#Well word also counts if it’s just open in the background so maybe let’s clock it in at 2h

[arsonist-chicken]

Knock knock, don't mind me, just asking how the festival went! Did you have fun? Did you end up watching that scary band after all? Did you make it home safely? The audience (me) wants to know everything!

Definitely not asking this because I miss you, shush, what are you even talking about?

It took a few weeks, but here's the Nova Rock report for you! ✨🦝🌈 it's only 4400 words, have fun.

Huh, I didn’t go 🥺🥺😭💖💗 over "I missed you" and the withdrawal symptoms you mentioned on discord, haha no, what?

The most important things first: I did have so much fun; I did watch the not-actually-scary band, and we did make it home safely and even without any delays (well except the one who had to travel to NRW with the DB but well) with only a weird little sunburn on my back from my shirt with cut-outs at the back.

We took the night train, so I went to the train station, thought "why are there always such weird people here at midnight", then remembered I was sitting there in my pyjamas with my hair still smelling of the fresh hair dye. I read your new chapter, had to stop myself from screaming, asked my sister + friend (NOT the random lady there) what they thought about the blind cat, we found a little ladybug in our compartment who then continued being in our tent, at the camp side, on the train home, and in my room back at home again. He’s actually flying around my lamp right now (well he was when I started writing this, he’s since left for the outsides).

We went with a whole bunch of people (like.. 20? My friend’s brother and his friends and friends of friends, you know), met two VERY annoying drunk Bregenzerwälder with their Hölzler shoes (who the FUCK wears those shoes to a festival??) and luckily lost them again, but everyone who was with us was really cool and chill to hang out with.

They had to cancel the first few bands because of the deep mud the rain had turned the stage areas into, but nothing I wanted to see luckily (although, go listen to Gloryhammer’s “Fly Away”, very fun), so I just sat there at the camping ground with my phone trying to listen to my zoom class (because of course the one lesson the whole semester I really wanted to be at was that week, but well, at least online); and after we went to a band I didn’t know before but someone said they were good, and they were (Coffeshop Company)! Which is something I really like about festivals, you can just go hang out by the stages for a bit to listen to new bands and see them on stage and if you don’t like them, you can just move along to another stage or sit with others by your tents. AND AND AND!! Oh yeah, we saw Evanescence for a bit, they’re okay. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY. I had been trying to see Rise Against live since I was 14, so 10. Years. now, and now I finally did see them!! And they were everything I expected! They were so energetic and they joked around a bit and the singer pointed out a few signs, and their energy and everything was so good! And their songs are fucking amazing live, they’re SO GOOD. Everyone and their grandmother always insisted on telling me how bad their sound was live, and now I got to judge for myself finally, and they were so GOOD!

BRING ME THE HORIZON BRING ME THE HORIZON BRING ME THE HORIZON! Friday was BMTH day! It was still muddy as hell, like my sister went to the toilets and came back with her whole boots covered up above the ankle in mud, but the organisers really came through and covered the entire stage area with what I learned is called Holzschnitzel (wood chips), so no problems there anymore. We went to see Battle Beast, which – wow, the singer’s voice is unbelievable! She has such power in her voice! We also had some food, my sister dropped a perfectly fine mozzarella stick into the mud (highly relevant info), and my friend and me went to see Maneskin. I wasn’t that excited for them anymore because I don’t like their new music very much, but I thought I’d go see them for a bit, and well – they have amazing stage presence! They just come out and start off right off the bat with such power and energy, I can really see how they pull new audiences in at festivals! The ... guitarist? Bassist? I’m not sure which one the woman plays and I can’t tell the difference anyway, but she had some, uuuh, trouble with her outfit, in that she had a bit of tape on her chest and otherwise a net shirt that kept riding down to her stomach and some tech guy or the singer had to keep pulling back up for her. She also had HIGH heels which I don’t understand how she didn’t fall even once, running around in that, good for her. The singer once almost hit someone with a bottle or something and said, “Sorry if I hit you, my brother, my sister, whatever you are”, which 🌈🌈🌈 They’re, well... I could do with less sexual stuff but it’s their show. It was funny though how within 20 minutes, three of them were wearing almost nothing on top, except the guitarist (?) with his full long-sleeved cowboy outfit and cowboy hat.

We left a bit early and still watched the rest of Skillet 😊 had a snack on the floor while Korn was playing (they’re not bad actually), and then went into the first... like the areas in front of the stage are divided right? We went into the front section for Heilung. Because BMTH was playing right after them and we really wanted to be towards the front for them because well. Bring Me The Horizon 💖 which meant I had to stand there and suffer through 75 minutes of a god-awful boring weird band. They’re… you know, I already talked about them in the blind cat post, I’ll keep it short here: I thought they’d be creepy from seeing their music videos, especially with the red-blinking windmills in the background, but turns out, you can’t scare or creep me out if you just bore the hell out of me first. Their music is so slow it makes me want to scratch my skin off to feel something, they don’t interact with the audience at all, and you can’t understand their lyrics because they sing in I don’t know how many languages, half of them dead. On top of being boring as fuck, they’re also weird as hell, using instruments made of [redacted] and having very unpleasant to watch parts in their show that I don’t think they should be allowed to just act out like that at a festival that allows 8-year-olds in. Yes, the parents are responsible, but like I said – at a festival, you also just randomly walk around the stage area and see what happens even if you’re just passing by to a different area. Actually even forgetting about minors, I’m 24 and I didn’t like seeing that. Anyway, they’re boring, they’re weird and pretentious, don’t listen to them, @ Nova don’t book them again jesus christ.

ANYWAY. FRIDAY WAS BRING ME THE HORIZON DAY. Aka the absolute highlight. They came on stage, you could see how HAPPY they were to be there, they started out with “Can You Feel My Heart”, they’re happy, I’m happy, I feel nothing but joy FINALLY hearing them again after having been rescheduled three or so times. Remember how I said they’d cancelled bands because of the mud, and I said to a friend if I missed BMTH for any reason, I’d cry? Because I’d been waiting to see them since, well. Whenever in 2020 the concert would have been idk man. WELL. Turns out, the security at that festival is abysmal every year (we got checked twice in four days, but god forbid you take a plastic bottle or Tetrapak with you to the stages), and they didn’t close the front area when there were as many people there as allowed. I’m not gonna drag this out with details but long story short, it was okay during the first song but got too bad to stay when the second song + circle pits started (I have… opinions on them, should I elaborate?), we tried to leave but it was very cramped, we got separated, and next thing I know some guy (thank you <3) pulls me up from the floor and helps a security guy get me over the fence, who then drags me away to the paramedics, whom I tell I’m fine, just a bit dizzy, I just want to sit down on the side and watch from there, I can hear “Teardrops” fading into “Dear Diary” aka the song I’d been fucking annoying about being excited to hear, so naturally, they drag me away to the Red Cross tent. Where I just sit for a few minutes getting more and more upset over missing one of the few bands I really, really wanted to see. Anyway, we met two others from our group there too, a guy had twisted his ankle or something and his girlfriend, who – she is SO SWEET, she always asked how everyone was, she’s funny, she gave me Traubenzucker (seriously I still don’t know the English word) and hugged me and said we should just all go out and sit down on the side to watch the rest of BMTH, which we did, and actually suddenly a bunch of our group were there somehow? Anyway, I cried a little more watching them until I calmed down again, and the rest of the show was SO GOOD FUCK. They have such energyand excitement to be there and they go hard on stage, they really do, and the singer’s voice is so nice again now that he’s recovered, there is so much power behind and in his voice when he sings; anyone who says BMTH have become soft or worse or whatever since they have less screaming can fight me (the Florians?). I’m already looking forward to seeing them again in February (covid don’t even LOOK at February you fucking bitch) so much! They still played “Kingslayer” which is always great, “Drown” which is *chef’s kiss*, a few more songs (my concert memory is so bad, the most I can usually say is yeah it was great), and ended with “Throne”, which you know, *all the chef kisses in the world*. Seriously, if you like BMTH and ever get the chance to see them live – GO! They’re SO GOOD live, they’re so happy to be there, their energy takes over the audience immediately, you can scream along or just be there and vibe… They’re just such a great band, in general and to see live (ignoring my situation here, not the band’s fault but the security’s + drunk large guys who don’t look out for others), it’s so fun to be at their shows – oh, everyone who likes BMTH should get the chance to see them live! They’re so GOOD my god I’m excited for the new single tomorrow.

Have you listened to the 30 second thingy they put out already? I can’t get over the way he sings “forever”, someone who actually knows something about music explain to me what it is about that particular way he sings that makes it so 🥺✨💖🍀 Something about the way his voice… vibrates? So to say, and the slight rasp maybe? Not even mentioning the lyrics themselves! This week sure is a busy week for me with a new BMTH song tomorrow plus the BC album on Thursday and then everything else going on as well plus weaselling my way into the playlist with whatever BC song I’ll like the most by then at the drag party so I’ll see what you’ll come up with to bribe me.

Saturday was Electric Callboy day! It was finally warm and sunny and one guy convinced all of us to go to a band no one knew but said were fun to see live, and they were (Liedfett)! I wouldn’t listen to them otherwise but live there, they were fun, and somehow our group turned their band name into a Marco Polo thing. Also, since pretty much almost all of us were there, we asked a guy to take a picture of us and I’m 95% sure the guy was high of some sorts, but the photos turned out well. Also, another guy took a picture of all of us at the camping side once and I don’t know if he was a photographer or something, but he moved around, changed angles and took about 40 pictures, “so you’ll have a really good one!” My sister, friend, and me went to a Ferris wheel they had put up and from the top, you could see across the whole area, which was both huge but also looked smaller than I had expected. A few of us got some food and watched a bit of Jinjer, they’re okay but a bit boring maybe. But but but! After them, Electric Callboy played! Awww Ruby, I wish I had a picture of their faces pretty much anytime they showed them on the screens up-close, they looked so HAPPY, it was beautiful to see! They were so GOOD and so excited to be there and play their show and they always smiled and laughed so beautifully*, it was wonderful to see 🥺 And it was so fun too, they talked quite a bit, once before “Spaceman”, the smaller singer Nico, as Fine taught me, took Kevin to the front of the stage to teach the audience the lalala-ish sound, but the way he did that was to take Kevin by the hand and walk with him to the front of the stage hand in hand while saying something like “Komm mal mit mein Lieber, also der Typ, der kann Sachen machen mit seiner Zunge, ich schau ihm jeden Tag beim Üben zu, haltet eure Freundinnen und Freunde fest, da könnt ihr noch was lernen”.. oder so. Ngl for a second I was wondering if surely he wouldn’t just go ahead and kiss the guy, right? Oh, a few others of our group who didn’t or not really know them came too and they all loved them, some even said they were their highlight of the festival! Which is not at all surprising, I mean you’ve seen them too, right, you know how just… Their energy and fucking around and their easy-to-vibe-with music make it really easy I think for anyone to really, really enjoy their concerts, even if you don’t really know them. I know I already loved them in April when I forgot to listen to more of their songs than I knew at the time before their EC/BC Munich concert, and it was still so much fun. Their stage presence and happy-go-lucky attitude and how obviously happy they are to play their music just makes it really easy to have fun. *I asked Fine, Laura, and Lou if it would be very weird to send them a message or email or something telling them how nice it was to see how happy they were on stage and how beautiful their smiles and laughs were, and got an “you are so cute” in return, but I’m telling you – they were the cute ones with how utterly HAPPY they were 🥺 I feel like I haven’t said a lot besides “it was so nice to see how happy they were” in various shades and slightly to the left but it just cannot be said enough. It was beautiful to see. Maybe I’ll still write them a message or a letter or something. Oh I also saw parts of The Offspring, Bad Religion, Seiler und Speer, Dame, and Deichkind later that day but none really convinced me, so in the end I had an early night (like... midnight “early”).

Sunday was Billy Talent day! Also a few other bands before that, Kissin’ Dynamite are fun to watch and their singer seems like a little shit (I could see him and Joonas fucking around on stage together), a bit of Eluveitie (boring) and In Flames (better than I remembered). We went around a bit before Billy Talent for food and then one booth had just run out of all meats, mozzarella sticks, whatever else, idk they only had fries left so we went to get a pizza, had a discussion in line with some guys about what the pizza names mean, and found out some sinners put eggplant on pizza. My friend works at a zoo and told us they can only feed eggplants to one breed of their stags because not even the pigs eat those. Oooh, Billy Talent were also so fun to watch! I’m not sure why there were so many more people than the day before, maybe because they were the second-to-last band to play? Anyway, very fun! Almost all of our group were there again, I knew about half of the songs they played and it’s just so easy to sing along and see everyone else also sing and jump along and just enjoy being there! Except the couple right in front of us who just spent the whole show making out. Why. Move. The singer made fun of the shape of the stage, talked a bit about other stuff and joked around, they also just have a presence that makes you enjoy their concert regardless of how well you know them, they make it easy to have fun.

Ah, the last band was Five Finger Death Punch, which I didn’t really know before, maybe a song or two in passing, but they were really entertaining to watch. To me – apparently quite a few people thought the singer talked to much or sang weirdly or was drunk? I don’t know, I didn’t hear it, I just had fun with his jokes and I thought his voice was quite powerful too. I don’t really know them but I think they were a good final act to put on.

There’s not much to be said about the trip home, we got up at 5 or so to avoid the “everyone leaving” waves, had some more floor breakfast at the Vienna train station, chatted some more, and on the train everyone fell asleep one after the other, but not before witnessing me almost losing my jacket with no idea how it ended up there and despite looking at it several times before another traveller asked his friend whose jacket that was, and throwing my phone on the floor five seconds later. I had to get off earlier than the others at my uni town, which meant I got a hug goodbye from the only guy still motivated to stand up (feel you), almost forgot my chair, and then almost fell down the train stairs. I was tired okay. Also at like... 8pm or so, a few hours after I’d already showered and thrown everything into the dishwasher washing machine, we finally got the text from the one who had to take the DB to NRW that she’d arrived home, about two hours late, unsurprisingly. I know I complain about the ÖBB a lot and rightfully so I think, but how do you all just live like that regularly?

Remember how you said on discord you’d gotten withdrawal symptoms and I said it was five days and you said, "5 days in which anything could have happened you know"? Well. Nothing happened for me (where is my festival romance huh? BC concert first date idea? Huh, did someone say something?), however. I sit at the camping side with a bunch of others on Saturday noon, enjoying the sun finally being here, when I hear my sister + friend say my name, so I go over to see what they’re gossiping about me, only for my sister to tell me a guy from our group randomly (“randomly”, you should have been there, it was so fucking obvious there was something there, and that’s from me who never notices shit until it’s pointed out to me) asked her if she’s single the day before, she later asked him to do something after the festival and he said he would have asked her if she hadn’t asked first. They’ve had a few dates since then, I think it’s going well.

I haven’t talked about the sunsets yet! Oooh, so that festival is in the Pannonia fields, which basically means in the middle of nowhere on some farmers’ fields which are packed with windmills which at night blink red rhythmically and that looks so cool at night! Just a few dozen windmills in the background blinking red in sync. And the sunsets were beautiful! Just being by the stage, listening to or waiting for a great band to play, and left and right of the stage seeing the sunset over the fields 🥰 (don’t go there to see mountains, the area’s highest one is 302m)

Oooh!! Do you know how I hate phones at concerts a little? Like I get taking a few pictures or short videos, but I’m really annoyed by people recording whole songs or the whole concert wth is wrong with people because the people behind you can’t see goddamn it. I don’t want to be mean to or about teenage audiences, I don’t. It has to be said though, the difference in phone usage at concerts with a primarily teenage audience vs a primarily adult audience is staggering. This year, I’ve been to a Louis Tomlinson, 5SOS, and EC/BC concert and now the festival, and the difference in the audience is huge. At LT + 5SOS, there were so many people there who were constantly recording and watching so much of the concerts through their phones (you miss everything?!), whereas at EC/BC and the festival, people also took photos or recorded but like… very, very few people constantly did so, most took a picture or video of their favorite songs and then put their phones away again. And I have to say, the difference in the energy of the audience is very noticeable. People are just much more into it, just being there enjoying the show, singing and jumping along etc. etc., you know what I’m talking about. I once saw a video of a Halsey show where phones were banned, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that since then every time I see people constantly on their phones at concerts.

It was also so goddamn nice to be – well technically you’re reachable, most people have their phones with them, but in reality, I can just turn on flight mode and only take it off that when I need to find my friends (well and that one class) and ignore everything else for four days. Ideal existence tbh. No uni, no work, no being contacted if you don’t want to, no other adult responsibilities, just hanging out with fun people, sharing snacks, and enjoying good music together, half of the days even in the sunshine. Speaking of sun, why did no one tell me my hat looked stupid, I wore that for the whole weekend 😤 oh, also, I got a BMTH shirt! It’s so pretty and it’s white but somehow still too warm for a 30-degree day. Then again everything is, probably. But I had a clean shirt to wear for the journey home with my dust-covered skirt, that was nice.

I met a woman with really pretty multi-coloured hair at the showers. Once there was suddenly a bridal party at the camping spot asking for a beer for their flunky ball bridal party game and invited us to join and offered glitter tattoos. Oh, the guy who hurt his ankle, some of our group borrowed a… those small things you can put boxes or other stuff on you need to transport and wheel it around? One of those to have the guy stand on and wheel him back to our camping area. We found a really nice spot a bit farther away from one of the stages for when we wanted to see a band but just relax and vibe, maybe have some food there and sit down a bit, that was a good spot, I swear we weren’t just on our feet 12h every day in front of the stages. Just peppering in all the random things here that I’m remembering that didn’t fit elsewhere. We built the ladybug a little home in one of the glass holder nets in my camping chair. You said you missed me. Oh, we camped in the Green Area which is just like, less trash and noise, and by day two, there was a hole in the fence which was quite practical because it made the way to the stage area shorter. By day four, a whole fence thingy had been moved. Also, that area was supposed to be quieter but they had a party area or something that played music with heavy bass until 4am or so, which apparently bothered quite a few people about sleeping, but I found quite soothing actually. Oh, the fiancé/husband of the bride with her bridal party was also somewhere with his friends, I kept seeing them in their pink safety vests vs. the women in the orange ones.

So yeah, the security, paramedics, and non-alcoholic drink situation where not it (they had… Red Bull and water stations, but 95% of the drinks sold were alcoholic – please remember the minimum age is 8, also some people (hi) don’t like to drink, especially not at festivals), but the people I was there with, the bands, how obviously happy they all were to be there, the eating food on the floor with each other, the shared snacks at the camping area, the just hanging out and chatting at the camping area talking about the bands and whatever else really, the “guess what I just saw on my way to the toilets” stories shared, the random people around us, the “travelling together and having food and listening to music together” human experience – yeah, that was very much it 🥰🥰🥰💖✨🌈🦝🍀 Writing all that down took about 2 pages of my happy memories book, 100/10 would recommend grabbing your favorite snacks and a few friends, putting your phones into flight mode, and wandering off to a festival for a few days 🥰🥰🥰

[psychedelic-ink]

— wonderful tonight.

pairing: frankie morales x fem!reader x dave york

genre: romance, smut, fluff

word count: 2.4k

summary: It's your birthday and Dave's running late, Frankie tries his best to distract you.

warnings: established poly relationship, oral (receiving) , mostly soft, mild daddy kink, nipple play, chaotic cooking

a/n: this is an early birthday gift to one of my favorite people @foli-vora happy birthday love! <33 I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote for you and thank you for all the amazing stories you put out. Sending you all the love and hugs 💖💖

also this was inspired by your post that's right here ✨

Your gaze lifts to the clock on the wall. The ticking of it makes you grind your teeth and prick at your skin. You’d begged Frankie to throw it out the day he bought it but he was set on keeping a regular clock above the wall just in case technology just decided to fail one day. It was a silly thought, but sadly he insisted, saying that the ticking of it made him feel nostalgic for a simpler time. There was no arguing with that so you just let it be. 

But now, as Frankie sauteed the onion, garlic and oregano for your birthday dinner, you can’t help but feel a tad disappointed. Dave’s late. Again. Probably held up due to boring paperwork that they made him file. Supposedly, their gift to you was supposed to be a day spent together. And just like you couldn’t argue about the damn clock, there was no arguing with Dave, no matter how much you begged him to stay. 

Another sigh parts from your lips, Frankie’s shoulders rise at the sound, his shirt dipping between his shoulder blades. After stirring one last time, he adds the tomato paste, the sizzle of it filling the open kitchen. 

“He’ll be here,” he emphasizes. “And he did say he would be free tomorrow, so we’ll be spending the entire day together,” 

“I guess…” 

“Cariño,” he murmurs, a hint of mischief laced in his tone. “If you continue pouting like that I’m going to think you would rather have him then me,” 

“What–No!” panic fills your voice as you stand up to your feet. “That’s not what I meant, I just…we never get much of a chance to spend time with just the three of us. I would be acting just as much of a brat if he was here an you weren’t,” 

He hums, hand reaching out for the shrimp stock. Steam rises as soon as liquid hits the saucepan, the gentle smoke dancing up and dissipating right after. Your stomach growls at the scent, mouth watering, you absolutely love it when Frankie’s in front of the stove. He is the best cook out of all three of you. 

“That’s good to hear. You don’t need to worry about being a brat though, I kinda like it,” 

His back is turned, but you can swear you see him grinning like an idiot. Your heart flutters, not being able to control your wide smile, you snake your hands around his thick waist, hands settling above his soft stomach as you peer from his side to see the saucepan. He’s firm against you, the smell of the food inhabits your nostrils but despite it, his scent reaches you. Sandalwood, with a hint of mint. It’s in the background yet it feels like a hug, it feels like home. 

“What were you making again?” you murmur into his shoulder, sneakily inhaling more of him. 

“Shrimp chupe. I think you’re going to like it but it’s been a while since I last made it so I’m a bit rusty,” 

“Well, if it fails, you know how to make it up to me,” 

“Do I, now?” 

“Don’t you?” 

“I think I might have an idea,” 

Much to your surprise, Frankie turns the heat to medium low and pulls his phone out of his pocket. His thumb lazily slides down the phone with an equally lazy smirk. You smile despite your disappointment gnawing at your heart, maybe he really didn’t have an idea what you were hinting at. And here you thought you were being crystal clear about your intentions– 

Suddenly the kitchen fills with the soft tunes of an acoustic guitar, soon accompanied by the rich baritone of Eric Clampton’s voice. Frankie places the phone on the counter and turns to you, his one hand extending forward. Staring at him awkwardly, your gaze shifts between his hand and eyes, they glint with amusement. 

“Dance with me?” 

“H-Here?” 

Frankie chuckles, his eyebrows drawn together, he softly takes your hand and pulls you flush against his chest. Every nerve of your body is electrified at the warmth he provides, your eyes are glued to the exposed skin of his neck, a sudden feeling of embarrassment clinging to you like a bad rash. Despite nearly doing almost everything with these two men, soft gestures like this still make your knees quiver. The music envelopes the both of you, Frankie’s hands softly finding your waist as he starts to gently sway from side to side. You follow his movements carefully, albeit a bit clumsily. It’s been a while. 

With the song in the background, you press the side of your face into his chest. Frankie’s lips find the top of your head, molding soft kisses into your scalp. A beautiful orange hue fills the kitchen, alerting you both that the sun was setting, the day slowly coming to a close. But in that moment you feel frozen in time. The only thing moving forward being yours and Frankie’s hips. His strong hands slide down your waist and grab your ass, your chuckle breaks the silence. You tear your face away from him, your eyes meeting his in a heated gaze. 

“Frankie Morales,” you feign a tone of offense. “And here I thought we were having a moment of romance,” 

“We are, mi vida,” he mutters, pupils dilated. A gasp falls from your lips when he squeezes, heart dropping as arousal gathers between your legs. “See how gentle my fingers are, this is romance,” 

“Hmm, we might be watching different types of romantic movies,” 

“I should show you my collection sometime,” 

“You should,” 

Frankie closes the distance, while his lips melt into yours, he pulls your body even closer, if possible, fingers digging into your flesh. Just like your bodies, your tongues dance with each other, slowly tasting, exploring. Your pulse accelerates, ears ringing loudly with every fast beating of your heart. His mouth slides down to your neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses across your burning skin. 

“I want you to lay down,” he whispers into your flesh, tongue tasting the salt of your skin. “Will you do that for me?” 

Without a nod or a word of affirmation, you lay down on your back. The kitchen tiles cool against your sizzling body. Frankie quickly towers over you, his fingers dipping under the waistband of your pants and tugging them down. His hand reaches between your legs, fingers feeling the wetness that’s gathered across the fabric of your underwear. His lips twist into a sly smile, clearly pleased by himself. The cheeky bastard. 

“Been thinking about this?” 

“Maybe…” 

He hums, licking his lips, “I should reward you for your honesty, such a good girl for me,”

The drop of his voice makes you keen, his fingers presses further into you, the heel of his palm ghosting over your clit. Your legs spread without prompt, hips raising ever so slightly off of the marble. 

Goosebumps rouse across your skin when he finally removes the final barrier of cloth between the two of you, his lips immediately chasing the taste of your heat. Frankie’s mouth smoothes over your folds, tongue dipping playfully between them. Back arching, you reach out and tug him closer, his damp curls wetting between your fingers. Slick rushes between your legs, your mind in a daze, he flattens his tongue and laps at everything you have to offer. His mouth is moving along your cunt in the slowest way possible, coaxing a series of moans from you. Warmth blossoms across your skin and the song fades into the background. Frankie’s mouth always felt good, but now, it feels like it might just as well cause you a heart attack. He drags the tip of his tongue to your clit, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves and groaning at the way your hips roll into his mouth. 

Neither of you hear the silent footsteps of a tired, yet intrigued, man approaching, both of you lost in eachother’s bodies. 

“And here I thought you two would miss me,” 

You flinch at the voice of Dave, a hint of amusement weaved into his every word. Frankie draws a circle around your clit, you hope to be quiet but you can’t help the way your breath hitches, a combination of Frankie’s and Dave’s name parting from your lips. 

Frankie’s gaze flickers up to Dave, slightly annoyed. 

“Why do you think I have her laying on the floor like this?” he asks with no intention of receiving an answer. Then he adds, mouth filled with the essence of you. “You really need to get you schedule under control,” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. No need to remind me,” 

Dave quickly sits down near you and pulls your head on to his lap. A whine escapes you when his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip, pressing into it gently. Frankie steers his attention back to your heat, sucking and slurping with his own groan accompanying the sounds, two fingers circle around your entrance. 

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” Dave mutters, slowly pushing his thumb between your lips. Wide eyed, you tentatively lick the tip. “Has Frankie been taking good care of you?” 

Just as you nod, your body jolts with a heavy wave of pleasure washing over you. The back of your head digs into Dave’s lap, eyes shut tightly, you cry out. Frankie’s fingers spread you wide, knuckle deep, as his tongue continues to work your clit. Dave pulls back his thumb and smears the wetness of it across your lips, his chest trembles with a soft laughter. 

“I think that’s a yes,” 

Frankie groans, eyes flickering up to him once again. His lips curl with a smug smile. Dave hums, his gaze moving back to you with an apologetic, yet lustful, look. 

“Can I join the fun?” 

Unlike Frankie, Dave was usually eager with his touches, his neediness seeping into his every movement. But today, today he also moves slow. He apologizes with his hands, fingers, mouth. Your neck strained as he forces your face up, claiming your lips in an upside down kiss while his hands travel down your body and lifts your shirt up. A growl emits from his chest upon seeing that you weren’t wearing a bra. He cups both of them, fingers pinching hard enough to send a shrill sense of pleasure down your spine. Meanwhile Frankie’s tongue worked wonders, his fingers thrusting in and out of your sopping core. Eyes rolling back, you moan openly into Dave’s mouth, cunt clenching at the way he grins down at you. 

“Is daddy making you feel good, princess?” 

Between heavy lashes and a tearful gaze, you nod. You’re burning from the inside out, Dave’s hands are merciless, playing with you like an expert musician. He knows all the strings to pull to bring you dangerously close to the edge. Rolling your nips between his fingers, he groans in delight at the way you squirm, your hips raising to meet the thrust of Frankie’s fingers. You can feel the ghost of Dave’s cock pressing against your upper back, just the thought of it makes your thighs clench around Frankie’s head. 

“I-I wanna–” 

“You want what baby?” Dave purrs. “You gotta tell us, isn’t that right Frankie?” 

Frankie parts from you momentarily, enough to breathe out a sentence conveying nothing other than great annoyance. 

“Deja ser un idiota con ella,” 

Dave shoots a glare, “Seems like I’m going to need to patch things up with daddy number two later,” then he turns down to you, his glare shifting into a gaze full of adoration. “Do you want to cum darling? Is that what you want?” 

“P-Please,” you plead, eyes traveling down. Frankie is already looking up to you, his eyes soft like honey. Your breath hitches. “Frankie,” 

He winks at you and you can swear in that moment, your soul left your body. His mouth opens wider, tongue pressing against your clit enthusiastically as his fingers move with precision. Your stomach contorts with pleasure, breathing uneven and fast. Desperation rises inside of you and you reach out to Dave, pulling him down for a bruising kiss. It’s been a while since the song was over, only wet sounds fill the kitchen now, stirring you even further. 

Spikes of arousal tingle up your spine, it builds and builds, Dave licks the inside of your mouth, Frankie licks between your aching folds with his fingers buried inside of you. Your whole world is spinning, nothing but your desire to cum screaming at you– 

Then everything shatters. 

You pull away, gasping for air as your body jerks uncontrollably. The corners of your vision blur, tears filling them thanks to the sensory overload. Frankie digs his fingers deeper, tongue swirling around the throbbing bud of nerves. Dave’s lush lips find your temple, shushing into your sweat coated skin. Heaving, you claw at Dave’s back, hips desperately trying to pull away from Frankie’s devilish tongue. He allows you after giving your clit one last, parting suck. 

“Fuck, mi corazon, that was amazing,” he pants heavily and slides up your body, laying his head between your breasts. “How are you?” 

Dave’s fingers playfully start to tweak at Frankie’s damp curls, nails gently scratching his nape. He purrs at the other man’s touch, a tired smile spreading across his lips. The gesture’s contagious, the sight of them being so domestic with one another has you grinning like a fool, heart swelling twice as big. 

“That was amazing,” 

“So…no one’s mad at me then?” 

You laugh, the melody of your joy echoing between them. 

“I didn’t say that, you are awfully late,” 

“Sorry,” he mutters, pressing his lips into the back of your head. “I couldn’t get rid of it but I’m here now, so happy birthday,” 

“Happy birthday,” Frankie chimes in as well, nuzzling your breast. 

There's a moment of serenity between the three of you, you smile as the endorphins of pleasure swirl around your mind, a pleasurable tingle vibrating across your skin. However, this doesn’t last long when Frankie suddenly jumps up, running to the stove. 

“Shit– I forgot the chupe!” 

“The what?” Dave asks, quite alert after seeing Frankie bolt.  

You giggle, taking Dave’s arms, you wrap them around you like a blanket. He tears his gaze away from the chaos in the kitchen and hugs you tighter, you call out to Frankie.

“Well, at least you know how to make it up to me.” 

[the12thnightproject]

What Dreams May Come

Characters: Hideyoshi and Mitsunari (main); Nobunaga, Ieyasu, Masamune, Mai, Kitty (background)

Prompts: English Regency/Napoleonic Wars AU, Blindfold

Requested by: @cheese-ception

Warnings: battlefield (memories); PTSD; temporary blindness; angst; otherwise SFW; and also maybe read the previous explanatory post first...

But I promise a happy ending!

Word Count: 4200

In the haze of smoke, a tattered Union Jack flutters in his field of vision, moved by a breeze that does nothing to sweep away the battlefield stink of sulfur and sweat, of blood and rotting bodies. He hears only the shouting of his fellow soldiers, constant booms, whistling of bullets, ‘watch out, Major’; feels nothing except a yank on his arm, before a cannonball lands with a crashing bang, where he had been standing a moment earlier. The explosion sends everyone flying backwards, and he lands face first in the fetid mud. Under the hot sun, it all blurs together, except for the smell. That smell will follow him to his grave.

“Hideyoshi.” There was firm hand gently shaking his shoulder. The Duke’s voice. “Wake up.”

The battlefield retreated to the edge of his consciousness, to lurk in the past, replaced by the sensation of polished mahogany and a sharp letter opener under his cheek… and a cramp in his neck likely to linger for hours. He’d fallen asleep at his desk again. Hideyoshi sat up instantly, as realization beget embarrassment, but Nobunaga’s gaze revealed neither censure nor sympathy. He rubbed his cheek, feeling the indentation of the ornate silver handle of the letter opener. “My apologies, Your Grace.”

“I’m less concerned about your sleeping at your desk and more about-” Nobunaga slanted a glance at the mantle clock – it was long past midnight, “the fact that you didn’t take yourself off to bed hours ago. Since I know I am not overworking you, I’m left to wonder about your competence.” 

If he thought he was going to be able to escape with just this gentle chiding, Hideyoshi was soon proven wrong, for instead of saying his piece and leaving, Nobunaga poured himself a glass of brandy, settled himself into a wingback chair, and gave every indication that he intended to stay and chat. Still wearing his crisp tailcoat and cravat, he was the very picture of a gentleman in repose.

“I was putting the finishing touches on your speech for Parliament.” It was the truth, but not the reason. Unlike Hamlet, he had little to fear ‘what dreams may come’ of death’s nightmares. The ones that visited while he was living were bad enough.

“If you’re going to have nightmares, why not have them in the comfort of your own room?” Nobunaga swirled the brandy, while Hideyoshi wondered if he’d spoken his thoughts out loud. Or had Nobunaga picked up Mitsuhide’s irritating habit of reading faces? The third possibility - that Nobunaga also suffered from them was discounted entirely. Nobunaga was too strong for that.

When the silence stretched on too long, past awkward, into, simply silence, Nobunaga gestured to the pages strewn across the desk that had so recently been Hideyoshi’s pillow. “As it’s the cause of tonight’s late hours, might as well let me see it.”

Hideyoshi handed over the speech, and Nobunaga settled in to read it, with not even a hm or a mrrm to let reveal his thoughts on it. Instead, Hideyoshi was left in a near silence broken by a ticking clock, and the distraction of a worn spot in the Aubusson rug that would likely need to be sent out for repair. As Nobunaga was still reading over the speech, Hideyoshi made a note to alert the housekeeper.

“The conditions of the returning soldier? That’s what you believe I should be championing?” Nobunaga sharpened a pen and marked out a few lines. “I’m not such a firebrand – tame your, or rather, my metaphors, and it will do.” He tossed the papers back onto the desk. “You should run for parliament yourself.”

“The House of Commons? I couldn’t.” Even though even a couple years ago – before Napoleon had stomped his boots all over Europe, it had been his very wish. He’d had ideas… plans. Dreams. But now, Nobunaga was far better placed to see those plans through, while Hideyoshi even had trouble planning what to wear each day.

“You could – if you stopped feeling guilty for-”

SCREEEEE

Though it was rude, Hideyoshi pushed his chair back with such force that it probably scratched the floor (possibly that was how the rug had become worn to begin with) and jumped to his feet. “You’re correct. I should be in bed. I’ll likely be fresher in the morning.”

Nobunaga, having gotten his teeth into the topic, wasn’t going to let it go so easily. “Mitsunari made his own choices. I’m certain he doesn’t blame you for-”

Twice in the same conversation, twice more than he ever had in the past, Hideyoshi interrupted Nobunaga. “If I hadn’t paid for his colors, convinced him he was needed, he’d safely be in some quiet vicarage.”

Nobunaga held his glass up to the light as if looking into a crystal ball. “While the image of a string of apple cheeked country maids haunting the doors of a church to get a glimpse of their angelic curate is amusing, you know as well as I that he would have made a terrible preacher. He’d never remember which day was Sunday and then spend Tuesday mornings looking out at row upon row of empty pews and wondering if his whole congregation had fled town.”

Hideyoshi’s brain supplied the sarcastic response ‘at least he’d be able to see that’ though again he kept the words unspoken, and this time, if Nobunaga read the words on his face, he didn’t remark on it. “Good night, Your Grace.”

“Do try to sleep, monkey.” The words floated after his retreating back.

Though he ought to have heeded that advice, Hideyoshi bypassed his rooms and as had become habit, he continued to the end of the corridor. Only to ensure himself that at this hour, Mitsunari had everything he needed.

That first week after their return from the continent, Mitsunari had awakened every night. Confused in the darkness, he had nearly set the house on fire as he tried to light an already burning lamp. As time went on, Mitsunari had become accustomed to his new circumstances, and if he woke in the darkness, he’d never mentioned it.

Did Mitsunari ever dream now? Were the dreams bright and colorful? Was waking up the nightmare for him that sleeping was for Hideyoshi? Again, there hadn’t been a word of complaint or self-pity from the younger man. Then again, Mitsunari never had been the sort to complain.

Carefully, Hideyoshi eased open the door to Mitsunari’s room. A footman had left the candles in the wall sconce burning – perhaps out of laziness, perhaps out of misguided comfort – and the room was bathed in an amber glow. Mitsunari slept, apparently peacefully, a fresh bandage wrapped around his sightless eyes. The young man was on his side, and he clutched something in his arms… a pillow?

No.

It was a book.

Unable to watch any more, Hideyoshi retreated to his rooms. The nightmare, (watch out, Major!) was all but certain to make another visit.

The following morning, after an early cross-country ride that was not fast enough to erase the lingering miasma of the battlefield from his consciousness, Hideyoshi fed his panting horse an apple while one of the grooms removed its saddle. The man didn’t need any company, but Hideyoshi felt… reluctant to return to the house. Strange. He’d never in the past shirked his responsibilities but since their return … his days felt like they were spent underwater, and even taking more than a few steps sometimes felt like too much effort. He would push past that though. Always had, always would.

To wake himself up, he ran his fingers over his horse’s nose, and it whuffled in appreciation. The warmth of its body pulsed under his hand, almost as if the animal was trying to loan him some energy.

Then a piece of straw hit him in the face.

And another…

Something was scuffling above him.

He eyed the hayloft, already primed to give a lecture if he discovered one of the stableboys dallying with a dairy maid. The groom followed his gaze. “Kittens.” At Hideyoshi’s unspoken ‘go on,’ the groom continued. “Molly’s latest litter. Over the last week, they’ve been venturing all over the stables.” He nodded at the corner of an empty stall, where a grey and white tabby was snoozing, likely taking a well-earned break from her brood.

Kittens.

Without questioning the impulse, Hideyoshi climbed the ladder until he was halfway into the loft. Five kittens tumbled over each other, chasing dust motes and straw, and bouncing into and off of the wall. One tiny all-grey furball pranced over to him and batted his nose. “Are they weaned?” He extended his hand to the little creature and was rewarded when it began to gnaw on his fingers.

“Should be. Why? Do you want to keep one?” The groom glanced at the mama cat and shrugged. “I’m sure Molly’s ready to be rid of them.”

“Yes.” The words were out of his mouth before he even realized what he planned to do with the kitten.

Later that morning, with a freshly brushed (courtesy of a cooing in-between maid) kitten squirming in his arms, Hideyoshi found Mitsunari on his customary bench in the back garden. Prior to his injury, Mitsunari could – and often had – spend hours in his room or the library reading, but everyone had agreed (well Ieyasu had prescribed, and no one had dared argue with the prickly doctor) that fresh air and the sun’s warmth would be good for him, so now a footman would lead him outside every morning.

Mitsunari had his bandaged eyes tilted toward the sky as Hideyoshi approached. An artist would likely be thrilled to paint a picture of the young man, basking in the sun, surrounded by lavender and climbing hydrangea. He looked to be at peace, with a spring breeze ruffling his unruly hair. In his lap, the same book that he had slept with the night before. At the sound of Hideyoshi’s footsteps, Mitsunari turned toward him and smiled. “Good morning, Major.”

“I sold out weeks ago – you don’t have to use my rank any longer.” He’d never had to, not in private anyway, but Mitsunari had always said it was easier to use the title all the time, than to try to remember when he did and didn’t need to. “You can call me by my given name.”

“It feels… impolite. I will do my best though. Major. Sir.” Mitsunari’s fingers soothed the covers of the book, each brisk movement feeling like an accusation.

He wanted to ask Mitsunari why he’d brought it along when he couldn’t see it, but at the same time Hideyoshi didn’t want to bring up the topic. Not when they were all waiting, trapped between hope and resignation, to discover what the verdict would be when Ieyasu returned to remove the bandage.

Having decided she’d had enough of Hideyoshi, the kitten let out an annoyed squeak. Then… she bit him. Again.

“Was that a cat?” (Nothing wrong with his friend’s hearing).

“Yes. The stables were overrun with them, so I thought…” I thought you might like her. I thought a kitten might be an adequate replacement for your eyes, for the books you can no longer read.  It… was a ridiculous thought. As if one cat could compensate for the loss of vision. Too late to backtrack now.

Besides, Mitsunari had already opened his arms, so Hideyoshi carefully placed the fluffball in his lap. With gentle hands, Mitsunari stroked her soft fur and almost immediately, the kitten let out a rumbling purr, almost too loud for her tiny body. Well. Females. Mitsunari had always affected them like that. “Good morning, kitty… it seems friendly.”

Hideyoshi had a couple scratches to prove otherwise, but the kitten seemed content in Mitsunari’s company. “She. The tweeny checked.”

“She. Were you going to give her to Mai?” He felt around behind him and broke off a spring of lavender from the clump edging the path. He dangled the sprig over the kitten, who batted at it with her tiny paws.  

That would be the natural assumption, but Hideyoshi doubted Nobunaga’s ward would have time for the cat now that she was preparing for her debut season. Well, Hideyoshi was certain Mai would give it her best effort, but it wouldn’t be fair to the kitten to get it used to Azuchi Castle, then cart her all the way to the London residence for a few months. “No. Actually, I thought…” Again, the explanation stuck in his throat. “Do you want her?”

Mitsunari was quiet for a long time, appearing to think it over. But he smiled down at the kitten as she rubbed her face across his hands. Encouraged, Hideyoshi added, “She seems to like you. Definitely more than she likes me.”

“I like her too.” The words were almost too soft to be heard. His hands easily found the underside of the kitten’s chin, and he tickled her lightly.

“Good then. I’ll have the housekeeper set some things up in your room.” Along the far side of the wall, where Mitsunari would be least likely to trip over them. The little in-between maid would likely be happy to feed her. Thrilled even, at the opportunity to get away from chamber pots and to spend time with Mitsunari and the kitten.

With a wide yawn, the kitten stretched, knocking the book out of Mitsunari’s lap. Hideyoshi caught it automatically read the title out loud. “Art of War.”

Mitsunari nodded. “I’ve read it before, so I can see the pages and words in my head.” No stumbling over the word ‘see’ like any of the visitors to Azuchi had. “But I like to keep the rhythm of turning the pages when I reread it.”

Interesting. Hideyoshi had always known that Mitsunari had an excellent memory, but he hadn’t… “I didn’t know it worked that way.”

“I was eight when I discovered that nobody else stores vast libraries in their head.” Out of either politeness, or habit, Mitsunari turned his face toward Hideyoshi.

Now trapped in a conversation that could become awkward at any moment, Hideyoshi settled on the bench, placing the book down between himself and Mitsunari. “Is it the same when someone reads to you? Can you still re-read it later?”

“The words appear inside my head while I listen… when I want to go over them again, they… unspool. Like thread.” Mitsunari made a rolling gesture with his hand, presumably to demonstrate the unspooling. “I hear the reader’s voice too.”

“I’m certain that Nobunaga would approve finding a reader for you.” Or two. Three even. People with soothing, interesting voices. Hideyoshi vowed to listen to every single candidate, to find ones with melodious voices, readers who sounded pleasant, even if they’d been reading for hours. And of course, only ones who would be able to read the most advanced texts without stumbling over unfamiliar words or concepts.

“That’s kind of you… and his grace, of course. But it’s not necessary.” Mitsunari had found the spot on the kitten’s body that sent it instantly into kitty bliss. “Ieyasu seems certain this,” he touched the bandage that doubled as a blindfold, “is only temporary.”

What Ieyasu had said was that it could be temporary, which, if Mitsunari could see words in his head, he knew full well. But if he was choosing to keep hope until the final diagnosis… was that better? Was it better to have several weeks of hope before disappointment? Or better to be prepared for a final blow? If it had been himself, Hideyoshi would like to be prepared. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?” Mitsunari ruffled the kitten’s fur. “For sticking me with this cat? She’s a nice cat.”

“For… this wouldn’t have happened to you, if it were not for me.” The apology he ought to have given weeks ago came tumbling out. “I feel responsible.”

Now Mitsunari did frown. “I don’t understand how you can think that. You didn’t fire that cannon. The French did. And I don’t blame them either.” He fumbled around and found the book again… tapped lightly on the cover. “Art… of War”

Watch out, Major!

“You saved my life… and your reward was this injury.” Maybe Mitsunari saw words in his head. What  Hideyoshi saw, unspooling like a thread, was the moment Mitsunari pushed him aside as a cannon ball exploded in front of them… then among the smoke and the sulfur, the vision of his subaltern, his friend, lying on the ground, knocked flat by the resultant blast. It had taken nearly a day for Mitsunari to regain consciousness, to open his eyes… and ask why it was pitch black in the tent. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“I saved your life. My reward was your life.” Mitsunari’s frown was still evident. “This temporary loss of vision is a small price to pay. My duty as a soldier was to protect my commanding officer. You treat me as a younger brother… but please, give me the credit of making my own choices fully aware of the potential cost.”

Of course, Mitsunari would say that. He had always been a creature of logic. “You would not have been in Belgium, were it not for me.”

Mitsunari shook his head. “I would have found a way – taken the king’s shilling and joined the infantry. My father considered me bound for the church, but … the thought of giving a sermon? I would rather face a hundred French soldiers every day for the rest of my life.”

The duke had said something similar… that Mitsunari didn’t blame him, had never considered blaming him. To push the issue would be an insult. Still, Hideyoshi couldn’t look at Mitsunari without a rush of an emotion that he could only identify as guilt, and its weight grew heavier every day.

“In any case,” Mitsunari continued. “You would have done the same if it had been Nobunaga.”

Yes. But, that was different. Nobunaga had goals, plans… someday… possibly soon he could even become Prime Minister. Hideyoshi was simply his steward. He had no goals other than to ensure that Nobunaga achieved his.

Seeming to think he had closed the conversation, Mitsunari indicated the kitten. “Her name ought to be Kitty.” With his lips quirked into a half smile, the only indication of those rare times when he told a joke, Mitsunari asked, “Does she look like a kitty to you?”

“I suppose so.” There was probably a joke to be batted back to him, but Hideyoshi couldn’t think of one.

“Kitty.” Experimentally, Mitsunari addressed her, and she let out a little chirrup as if that settled the matter. “In any case, we can ask Ieyasu’s opinion – he’s good at naming things.”

Not that Hideyoshi had noticed. “By the time he gets here, Kitty will be too attached to her name to alter it.”

Mitsunari tilted his head in the direction of the house. “He’s here now. Masamune too.”

About to correct him – Ieyasu wasn’t due to arrive until next week, and Masamune was up at his estate in Scotland – but Mitsunari was right. Hideyoshi could now hear their voices, good naturedly arguing (well, good natured on Masamune’s part anyway) as a footman led them into the back garden. The footman noted that His Grace had been told of the visitors’ arrival and would join them momentarily.

“Well, Lad,” Masamune said, as he greeted Mitsunari with a friendly slap on his back. “Admit it. You were so jealous of the allure of the eye patch that you had to go and double it.”

Bristling, Hideyoshi prepared to defend Mitsunari, but the ‘lad’ laughed at Masamune’s joke. So, instead, he turned his attention Ieyasu. “You made good time. We weren’t expecting you for a few more days.”

“Date came down to consult with his man of business about something, and he offered me a place in his curricle.” He sent a glare at their Scottish friend. “Which, I will never take him up on again. He drives like a madman.”

Hm. Ieyasu’s hair was standing on end more than usual, and there was a greenish tinge to his complexion that matched his eyes. Hideyoshi could well believe that Masamune’s neck-or-nothing riding style would transfer to his driving.

Masamune made a dismissive sound. “What’s the use of having fast horses if you don’t let them have their heads on a decent highway?”

“Thank you, Ieyasu. I’m glad you wanted to see me sooner.” Though Ieyasu rolled his eyes at Mitsunari’s interpretation, he didn’t correct him, Hideyoshi noted.

By this time, Nobunaga had made his way out to the garden as well, and he was soon followed by Mai, who was greeted enthusiastically by Masamune and less so by Ieyasu. Predictably, she cooed over the kitten, then settled herself next to Mitsunari while the servants carted out some light refreshments.

It seemed like everyone wanted to be around when Ieyasu removed the bandages. Even the servants were lurking at the edges of the garden. Mitsunari was a favorite with all of them.

“We’re almost all together again,” Mai said, sounding satisfied at that prospect.

“I could ask Wellington to recall Mitsuhide and Keiji from whatever missions he’s got them carrying out on the continent.” Nobunaga said it so casually, as if it was as easy as snapping his fingers to ask the commander of the British army for a favor. For Nobunaga… it probably was.

“That’s … really not necessary,” Hideyoshi assured him. Masamune was more than enough to cause a disturbance in the household without adding Mitsuhide or Keiji to the mix.

Lightly touching the bandage, Mitsunari asked the question that no one else had the courage to. “It is time now? To remove this?”

“Inside.” Ieyasu waved his hand in the direction of the sun. “Too bright out here.”

There seemed to be a general inclination to move en mass into the house, but Hideyoshi shook himself out of his numbed state. “Mitsunari… do you want everyone around you?”

“Just you, Major.” He handed the cat off to Mai. “And Ieyasu, of course.”

Moment of truth then. Hideyoshi realized he felt more nervous than Mitsunari appeared to be. Then again, Mitsunari was confident that when the bandages were removed, he’d be able to see again.

Rather than use the footman, Hideyoshi took over the job of leading Mitsunari back into the house, conscious of everything on the path that might trip his friend up. Behind them, he could hear Masamune teasing Mai about something pertaining to her debut, likely just nonsense to distract them while they waited.

He considered taking Mitsunari into the library – it had been his favorite room. But if the blindness turned out to not be temporary, would the smell of books and paper be too much of a reminder of the loss? Upon reflection, the study appeared the better choice, as its position on the west side of the castle meant it was naturally darker in there anyway. He settled Mitsunari in the same wingback chair that Nobunaga had occupied the night before.

Ieyasu puttered around, snuffing half the candles and closing the drapery, before crouching in front of Mitsunari. Hideyoshi leaned against the doorway, half in and out of the room. He felt almost as if he were poised for flight – if the news were bad he knew there would be a part of him that would want to start running, and keep running… while another part would make it impossible to move at all. It was all a sum of that invisible wall of water surrounding him.

With a pair of scissors, Ieyasu neatly snipped through the bandage. The slight burns on Mitsunari’s face had long since healed, but Ieyasu had always said the burns weren’t the issue, it had been the concussion from the explosion that had caused his blindness. “Open your eyes slowly… if things are blurry, it’s to be expected.”

“Wait.” Mitsunari’s hand came up to keep the bandage in place. “Major… Sir… Hideyoshi. What you said to me before… I can’t forgive you because I have no right to that. There’s no reason to. But – please, forgive yourself.” He didn’t wait for Hideyoshi to respond – and perhaps there could be no response to that anyway. Mitsunari couldn’t force Hideyoshi to forgive himself any more than Hideyoshi could force Mitsunari to blame him.

Maybe that had been his point.

From where he was standing in the door, Hideyoshi couldn’t see the expression on either one of their faces when the bandage finally fell away, and the silence from Mitsunari wasn’t helping things either. That clock on the mantle kept ticking into the void, as Ieyasu slowly moved his finger back and forth in front of Mitsunari’s eyes, almost in cadence with the clock.

He wouldn’t be doing that he if thought Mitsunari hadn’t been healed, right? Finally, Ieyasu put his hand down and grunted in satisfaction. “You’ll need to wear the blindfold every other hour, and slowly retrain your eyes. Then go to an ocularist for a stronger pair of glasses…”

Whatever he said after that was lost in the rush of relief that Hideyoshi felt. Mitsunari turned his head looking for…

… Hideyoshi, apparently, as the young man paused, his brilliant amethyst eyes focused on him … then he smiled.

I saved your life, that smile seemed to say, now… make something of it.

…Hideyoshi supposed that he would.

[yves-and-scessernee]

So I didn’t want to pause and write up this compilation while I had the game open, but now that I’m back and have a moment, I was looking at some of the environmental design Jesse and I have come across so far. This one’s a bit longer than the others, so here’s a read more:

I had to kind of get my camera right behind Jesse and walk her forward at just the right angle, but I finally got a good look at one of the papers hung on the whiteboard in one of the shadowy offices. [...?] INCIDENT REPORT FORM, it appears to say, and below that: PLEASE PRINT CLEARLY.

This poster I came across in one of the hallways, and, though it’s comparatively simple, it immediately reminded me of the works of M.C. Escher, a graphic artist who created works that aimed for a disorienting optical effect. I spent a bit of time angling my camera to try and get a good view of the bottom text, which is, bizarrely, written in yellow on a white background.

“Can’t find your office? Watch your step”, the poster reads, but the last three words are arranged on the poster’s black-and-white illusory background, featuring blocks that appear to rise and fall despite being as 2D as they come. “Rangers from security department” is the yellow lettering at the bottom, next to the Bureau’s seal. I have absolutely no idea what that means.

This one I really couldn’t make out very well at all: it appears to be the silhouette of a person, and they look to be holding some sort of device, maybe a weapon, something long and thin. “Let’s work hard!” it says, adding: “His life is in your hands. Everyone’s safety depends on you!”

Quite a lot of responsibility for Jesse here, considering that she just came in out of the rain. It was this poster, more than the others, that gave me a feeling of true unease. So the safety of their employees can’t actually be guaranteed by the Bureau itself, huh? Something to keep in mind.

This, finally, is the notice board I came across earlier, before Jesse and I met Ahti. It’s a big, cork board with a variety of overlapping posters and papers, but I got Jesse up close to it to see how much I could make out. Makes me wish I had a pip-boy, but, well, you -- and Jesse -- can’t have everything.

OFFICE RULES OF CONDUCT reads the leftmost one, and this one’s mostly legible. Unfortunately I can’t quite make out the handwritten addition to item #4 (”or the 3d-printer”? “or the ... stationary”?), but the type is as follows:

Speak in moderate volume

No personal calls

No food or drink around Bureau documents or in the copy room

No using the photocopier for personal projects

Wear access badge at all times

No discussing confidential projects out loud

The one to finish the coffee pot makes a new one

The poster immediately to the right of this list is also fairly legible: it has a picture of two illustrated hands, some bubbles, and, in large, block letters, REMEMBER TO WASH YOUR HANDS: YOUR HANDS CAN SPREAD THE MOLD. The last part of it is underscored, and below it reads:

Be sure to:

Wash hands carefully with soap

Make sure to wash all fingers, nails, palms, backs, wrists

Rinse thoroughly and dry carefully

To the far right is an orange poster with an illustrated clock with four hands, smiling out at Jesse from its illustrated face. Above it reads, in bold type: DELAYS CAUSED BY HOUSE SHIFTS DO NOT COUNT TOWARDS OVERTIME. Two sticky notes have been stuck to the poster. The first appears to read “Spinning out of control??” with the last word underscored. The second just reads YES in large, capitalized letters.

The rest appear to be far more mundane. Two papers hung side-by-side both read: “Let’s say hi & welcome to some new people in the oldest house!” Nine people are pictured, though I can’t read their names.

A paper below that has a drawing of a dog with a great big red, crossed-out circle superimposed over it: PLEASE, it appears to read, below overlapping corners of other posters, “don’t bring dogs into the office. Some of us have allergies.” A PLEASE RECYCLE poster has been almost totally obscured by the rest.

BOOK CLUB is yet another poster, featuring a stack of illustrated books. SOCKS AND BALLERINAS: LIVE AT THE OLDEST HOUSE is one next to it. A third, hung at the corner of the second, is relatively plain: it simple reads “Reminder to all staff: Food left in the refrigerator in Containment break room 3-B has been known to vanish. Plan accordingly.” It sounds rather like a threat.

I am, however, immediately distracted by the final paper I can make out. ACOUSTIC GUITAR FOR SALE! it reads, in blocky, handwritten letters. “Turns out it’s pretty hard. If interested, see Greg in Maintenance.” It’s possible that the name is actually “Grey”, but Jesse and I don’t have time to ponder, because that guitar is $50.

$50! For a guitar!

Forget everything else, Jesse, we gotta book it to Maintenance to pick up that guitar.

[banananutsmuthie]

32 Flavors

Idol(s): Minju [IZ*ONE]

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

A/N: Just a little quickie for Minju's birthday. Just a bunch of ice cream euphemisms. A little background for those who don't have a Baskin-Robbins in their country: it's an ice cream chain known for its "31 flavors" slogan, with the idea that a customer could have a different flavor every day of the month.

*bing bong*

The sweet smell of 31 flavors packed an overwhelming punch even before opening the door. Mint chocolate chip, pink bubblegum, and cookies ‘n cream all permeated through the store in a combination of strong sugary goodness. Yet, it all paled in comparison to the sweetness of the girl behind the counter.

Her eyes looked up from her phone to greet you with a warm smile. She was as beautiful as the day you first met her.

“Welcome to Baskin-Rob—oh, hey babe! What are you doing here?”

“Well, I figured I’d pick up my little Minju angel after she finishes her shift. Plus, it’d give me a chance to see you at work.”

There wasn’t anyone else in the shop. Based on her bored-to-death slouch when you first walked in, it seemed like there may not have been anyone in here for a while. Understandable, especially in the middle of winter and so close to closing.

She reached over to give a kiss across the counter. Minju’s chilled lips left a subtle aftertaste of chocolate, no doubt a sign of Minju stealing free samples of her favorite ice cream flavor on the company’s dime.

“I’m still on the clock for the next 20 minutes. Do you want to sample some of our new flavors?”

“Sure, why not?”

Ever the professional, Minju returned to her salesperson voice, trying hard to sell you on the ice cream she was desperate to sell. She grabbed one of the tiny pink spoons from the container on top of the counter and slid the freezer door open, digging into a barrel filled with yellow ice cream sprinkled with walnuts.

“This one just came in yesterday, it’s banana nut bread. If you like it, we can also mix in some milk and blend it into a banana nut smoothie.”

The walnut crunched between your teeth, pulverizing into a fine dust that paired well with the explosion of banana in your mouth.

“Banana nut smoothie? Sounds interesting, maybe next time. What else do you have, Minmin?”

“Try this one. It’s my favorite. It’s like sex in my mouth. If it were a person, I’d let it do me,” she said, handing you another pink spoon overloaded with sugar.

Pieces of moist chocolate cake squished between whipped cream and subtly sour cherries. It wasn’t hard to see why Minju loved it.

“Why does the nameplate for this flavor just say, ‘Fill in for later’?” you asked.

“Because customers don’t know how to properly pronounce ‘Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte’, so we’re still waiting on Corporate to instruct us on a name. Do you like it?”

“I do, but what else do you have? Got anything that will take me out of this world?”

Her eyes darted past the glass door entrance. There was nothing but an empty parking lot smothered in snow. Minju’s gaze slowly found its way back to yours with devious eyebrows clearly filled with wild machinations.

“Well, I don’t think any of our current 31 flavors will satisfy you, but I do have a special flavor just for you. You’ll need to come behind the counter if you want a sample.”

With haste, you hopped over the counter with curiosity. What could be so special that Minju couldn’t hand over in another tiny pink spoon across the counter? Questions were answered when she turned around toward you, back facing the store entrance and butt leaning against the cold metal ledge of the freezer.

“We’re running a special, only valid today,” Minju said.

“Well, I’d love to hear the special.”

Minju pulled off her blue apron. Then her pink Baskin-Robbins polo. All that remained was her black lace bra, but even that fell to the ground.

“Well, the Flavor of the Day is called ‘Minju’,” she said as she lightly fondled her breasts. “It’s two scoops of vanilla topped with pink gumdrops.”

Minju grabbed at your hands, redirecting them onto her perfectly delectable mounds. It was just the right amount of firm. Fingers came together and pinched at her yummy pink gumdrops, standing tall atop each scoop. Minju cooed in delight.

“Go on, have a sample,” Minju suggested.

Minju’s samples up until now were just too small, not enough to fully appreciate the flavors blasting about in your mouth. But this—two gratuitous scoops of Minju’s supple breasts—was more to your liking. You dived in, lips slightly open and tongue grazing her chest.

There was only one correct way to eat ice cream. Too much at once and you’d get a brain freeze. Linger too long and it’d melt past the point of satisfaction. You started to lick at her pink gumdrop with just the right amount of pressure, taking her all in and eliciting a strong response from Minju. Her back straightened against the freezer’s glass door as she let out a drawn out moan.

“That’s it, take all of it. It’s all yours,” she said as you continued to lick at her perky nipples, massaging the velvety goodness with your tongue and slowly making your way outward. With still another scoop barely touched, you slid your tongue across the schism between her mounds, mirroring the same motions on the other side of the vanilla-flavored valley.

You could’ve spent all day melting into Minju’s chest like ice cream on a summer day. But even a sugar rush can be too much sometimes. She nudged you off her chest satisfied, both of you admiring her breasts that were now glistening in a light layer of saliva.

“In addition to the two scoops of ‘Minju’, you also get this,” she said.

Minju slowly unbuttoned the khaki shorts that hugged at her delicious thighs. It slid down with ease, revealing Minju’s inviting pussy that hadn’t been properly pleasured since she started her shift. Minju hopped onto the metal ledge of the freezer and split her long legs open, grasping onto the counter to keep her balance.

“It’s a banana split: I split my legs wide open and you put your banana in me. You can even sprinkle some nuts in me, too,” she said without an ounce of sarcasm in her tone. It was almost hard not to laugh at how serious she was with her puns.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Do I need to spell it out for you? Come over here and fuck me,” Minju demanded.

Your pants and shirt joined Minju’s shorts on the ground. You moved forward with your already-erect cock in hand, aligning your banana with her split. Minju was so tight when you pushed into her, and yet she was so easy to slide into, a product of Minju’s familiarity of being filled up by your cock on a nightly basis.

“Split me open, babe. Fuck me so hard that I can’t walk properly and I’ll have to call in sick for the rest of the week,” Minju begged. There wasn’t a need to start slow. Not when Minju wanted it rough. You grabbed onto her wide hips and began to fuck her like she asked.

Cherries Jubilee. Her pussy was Cherries Jubilee, or at least it used to be, anyway. You had taken Minju’s cherry a long time ago, but the jubilee of doing it over and over again like the first time still remained. She moved on to more complex, adventurous flavors the longer the relationship went on. With Minju buck naked in a Baskin-Robbins, it was clear she was more of a Rocky Road kind of girl now: she loved it rough and scratchy with a heaping helping of nuts and gooey white.

“God, you feel so good, babe.”

Minju’s bottom lip quivered from the combination of the rough sex and the cold freezer pressing against her back. With every thrust into Minju’s tight pussy, the heavy appliance she anchored herself to screeched against the tile underneath. The force of each shove slowly pushed her further into the dining area.

She managed to get out another word even through the rough, rhythmic ramming. “You know there’s ice cream in a banana split right?”

Right, the ice cream. It was a not-so-subtle hint that Minju still wanted to be pleasured on her chest. You reached out and grabbed onto them, pinching at her still-perfect gumdrops.

“Yes, take it. Everything, it’s all yours: ice cream, bana—fuck!”

Minju couldn’t even complete her sentence before cumming. Her pussy tightened around you even more, pulsating against your shaft as her warm juices gushed out. Minju spasmed uncontrollably, leaning against the glass display and letting her orgasm take her through shut eyelids. You continued fucking her through her orgasm, looking to sprinkle some of your own whipped cream on top of the Minju sundae. She finally opened her eyes when she came down from the cotton candy bliss.

“Are you close yet, babe? I have to close up shop soon,” she said.

If there was one thing aside from ice cream that Baskin-Robbins was known for, it was their ice cream cake. Minju must’ve been tired holding herself up against the freezer, and so when you saw Baskin-Robbins’ ice cream cakes displayed in the upright freezer across the store at that moment, an idea popped up into your head that would’ve solved both your needs.

“I want some Minju cake.”

“Whatever you want, babe. Fuck me however you want, and don’t even worry about the mess, I’ll clean it up.”

You helped her off the metal ledge and turned her around. Her tight ass cheeks beckoned. After enjoying her ice cream and banana split, ending the sugar high by glazing that cake with icing was icing on the cake, a poetic tautology.

You grabbed at her hips to pull her close then pushed on her lower back until the side of her face pressed against the glass freezer. Without giving her a warning to prepare, you slid all the way inside her. A surprised Minju winced at first but let out a moan louder than anything else that would’ve been heard inside the ice cream parlor; if there was a fire, Minju’s screams would’ve doused the sounds of the alarm.

“God, babe, just fuck me! Do it and fill me up!”

Your hips went into auto-pilot, thrusting back and forth against Minju’s ass while your hands slowly crept up onto her mounds of ice cream that were still slightly wet from earlier. Even her perfect pink gumdrop nipples were still erect and ready for the taking.

No man should have to choose between cake and ice cream, and so it was nice to be able to take in Minju’s tempting scoops and her delectable cake at the same time. Whoever said, “You can’t have your (ice cream) cake and eat it too” was definitely wrong.

“I bet you wanna just fill my cake with icing, don’t you babe? Come on, I know you’re close. Fill me up with that pralines ‘n cream.”

Minju swayed back and forth trying to coax you along, slamming into your cock with each thrusting motion. Her hands grabbed onto the top of the counter, readying herself for the inevitable icing. Her body radiated heat in the moment, fogging up the glass pinned below her. Even on a freezing winter day in an ice cream shop, Minju was a sweaty mess.

“God, Minmin, here it comes!”

“That’s it, babe, I want all of it in me!”

One final thrust and Minju’s dream of pralines ‘n cream started to come to fruition as you nutted in her, filling her with the warm, gooey icing that completed her cake. You pulled out slowly, watching as your cum oozed out of her. It dripped down her inner thigh, running parallel with the stream of her own fluids from the banana split earlier.

Minju hopped onto the metal ledge once more. Her fingers swirled around in the pool of icing that was starting to form underneath her. It dripped off past the ledge, dropping down to the floor in one long continuous string.

“So what did you think, babe? Did you like our Flavor of the Day? Did it take you out of this world?”

“I could have that every day of the month.”

“Well, I guess you should start picking me up more often, then we can—”

Ahem.

Both of you turned toward the dining area. In front of the counter, a man stood weary from the cold and ready to order. As he took off his puffer jacket, he revealed the black polo shirt underneath, embroidered with the words “Idol Club” on the left side. On the opposite side of his chest, his nametag read “Joon”, and in a smaller font underneath: “Professional Sanitation Engineer”. What a lousy way to make his job sound more dignified than it actually was. Imagine being the poor fool who had to clean up the rooms after rich clients had their way with their idol playthings. What a fucking loser.

Minju hopped off the freezer. She clutched onto her apron and hastily pressed it against her naked frame, just enough to cover her lapped-up breasts. Her warm juices soaked through the polyester and created a dark blue stain on her uniform.

“What do you want, fucker?” Minju asked. She was understandably in a terrible mood, what with a customer coming into the shop one minute before closing in the middle of winter. No one in their right mind would crave ice cream in this temperature. Except for this fuckface. It didn’t help that Minju broke enough health codes and sanitation regulations to shut the store down, either.

Joon was willing to look past all that. He looked over at you, still naked with the exception of a waffle bowl that was now covering your lewdness. It was the only thing you could think of grabbing in the sudden interruption. Then, he pointed at you with a smile.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” he said.

You tossed the waffle bowl that had been blessed with your cock at his smug face.

“Get lost, creep!”

A/N: Ending inspired by my answer to this ask

[peachycoreroo]

the forbidden fruit | zeke yeager

summary: zeke was like a second father to you and you were his favorite little girl. maybe, it wasn't normal to like your dad's best friend that much, but who cares if it's normal when it feels this good.

pairing: dad’s best friend!zeke x college fem!reader

genre: smut, pwp

word count: 5.4k

warnings: age gap, vaginal penetration, lowkey pseudo-cest bc you call zeke 'uncle', daddy kink, oral fem!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, mini degradation, praise kink, a few spanks, choking, zeke spits in your mouth, usage of ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘slutty’, bunny as a pet name, kinda exhibitionism?, manipulation, corruption kink, dub-con vibes but you actually want it, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, smoking, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up kids), creampie, size kink

authors note: this is for @weepinglevi​‘s adult movie tropes collab, thank you sm for letting me join!! def check out the other amazing fics in this collab<3 this is a lot darker than my other stuff so far, but i had so much fun writing it, so enjoy my first piece for aot!! here’s a link to my masterlist

uncle zeke, or uncle zuzu as you liked to call him when you were still a child, has always been your favorite person since you were little. technically, you weren’t blood-related, but you might as well have been with how integrated into your family he was.

him and your father were best friends since middle school and you did call him ‘daddy’ a lot back then as a three-year-old, when you couldn’t grasp the concept of him not also being your dad. he was there for your birth, your childhood, your embarrassing teens and now even for your 20th birthday.

you don’t exactly know when the thing happened though.

one day, you were all a big, happy family and the next you suddenly realized, how attractive zeke yeager really was. maybe, it was the way you noticed that he was so much more athletic and broader than your father as they walked around your pool in their swimming trunks on a hot summer day. maybe, it was the way you suddenly became aware of how tall he really was, when you tried to reach a cup on a shelf too high, only to feel his presence directly behind you with his chest against your back as he reached his arm above your head and grabbed the cup, only to hand it to you with a teasing ‘you should really try this thing called growing. i heard it does wonders against high shelfs.’ or maybe, it was the way you finally registered how his gray eyes shamelessly checked you out as you walked around in your flimsy crop tops and shorts, barely covering anything.

it was so wrong, but that didn’t mean you would stop your little teasing. your dresses got shorter and shorter, dropping your keys on purpose on the way out just to flash him your lacy panties. hugging him longer than usual as he was leaving, just to press your breasts up against his hard chest. you wanted him to know you weren’t a little girl anymore. you wanted his mind to be filled with lewd thoughts about you. only you.

even when you left for college, you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond man, especially when you were in your bed late at night, with your hand stuffed in your panties and your mouth whimpering his name into the pillow. images of him, with his hard cock in a large palm, pleasuring himself with you on his mind, groaning your name, always brought you to an orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. you knew the only way to quench your need for this man was by having him, no matter how rotten your desire was.

at last, it was finally your birthday, and you couldn’t wait to get home and act upon your ploy to seduce zeke yeager. it was a foolproof plan really. nobody would even suspect you were trying to rile your favorite uncle up, and he would only react, if he wanted you just as much. what better gift for your birthday, than ultimately having the forbidden fruit you’ve been trying to deny yourself of for so long.

“happy birthday, angel!”, your family exclaimed excitedly as you came downstairs. you quickly scanned the room to see uncle zeke already sitting in his usual spot on an armchair in the corner of the living room, getting up and joining your parents at the bottom of the stairs when he noticed your presence.

knowing that he was there, you finally smiled happily, thanking them softly before being pulled into a tight embrace by zeke. “yeah, happy birthday, angel”, he lowly murmured into your ear as he pressed you firmly against him, goosebumps erupting at his slightly suggestive tone.

“thank you, uncle zuzu”, you whispered back, squeezing him tight, hoping to get the message across that you were more than happy to be in his arms.

alas, you were forced to part as your mother shoved him to the side to embrace you, your dad jokingly complaining about you going for a hug with your favorite first instead of your parents, in the background.

“well, i can’t help that i’m so much cooler to her than you”, zeke retorted playfully, earning him a light-hearted punch to the arm from your father.

the rest of the day felt like an eternity. it’s not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your parents, especially if zeke was there, but the prospect of getting the blond male to act upon your, hopefully, mutual desires, had you looking at the clock more times than you would like to admit.

“are you waiting for something?”

you quickly snapped out of your daydreams of what could happen later, as the man with the main role in them sat down closely beside you, your thighs brushing against each other. you couldn’t help your gaze lingering where your skin touched before blinking up at him through your lashes, only to see him grinning down at you, clearly amused by your stare. time for the first part of the mission.

“oh yeah, i’ll be going clubbing with a few friends later.”

“clubbing?”, zeke pressed with a frown, “and your parents are letting you?”

zeke has always been very overprotective of you. your dad joked that it’s because you’re basically like his daughter, but you hoped it was more than that. that’s why you were counting on his overprotectiveness to eventually lead you to the desired outcome of the day aka you, stuffed full of his cum.

“mmm, yeah. it’s my 20th birthday uncle zeke, not my 10th, you know. i’m an adult”, you retorted provocatively before getting up. “’m gonna go get ready.”

you could swear you felt his irritated glare burn into your back as you made your way upstairs, grinning at the first bit of your plan succeeding.

the second step, was your appearance. just a week before that, you went shopping for the shortest dress you could find, ready to turn heads, or specifically, one head. shower, hair, makeup, baby pink lace underwear, see-through tights, black dress. you haven’t felt this hot and confident in a while with college forcing you to wear hoodies and sweatpants all day every day. no way in hell were you going to make yourself suffer through endless lectures in cute skirts and dresses.

five minutes before your friends came, one of your essential male friends included, you decided to head downstairs to make sure zeke had enough time to admire how hot you looked.

as you came downstairs, you could hear your dad exclaiming ‘look at my beautiful girl, all grown up’, making zeke turn around. goosebumps erupted as you felt his eyes slowly trail along your figure, your skin tingling where his gaze burned into your exposed skin.

you did a full spin, showing off your outfit to the three people in your living room, but only caring about the opinion of one. to your disappointment, you didn’t quite get the reaction you wanted, with zeke turning back around to your mother, continuing to talk about whatever.

no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up your tightening throat, making you sick with disgust. you knew your mother was just as much as a friend to the man of your desires as your father, but it didn’t stop you from feeling this way. you wanted his eyes on you and not some other woman, even if that woman was your own mother.

as if on cue, the doorbell rang out, your mood immediately lifting at the chance that the third step of your plan finally elicits a much-craved reaction from zeke.

you opened the door, your best friends immediately throwing themselves at you, screaming their congratulations and complimenting your attire. just like you hoped, the boy you’ve been friends with and flirted with since high school, jean kirstein, was the last one to congratulate you. he hugged you tight, leaning down, whispering a low ‘happy birthday, pretty girl. you look good enough to eat’, at the same time as your parents and zeke came into the foyer.

the hug you shared with jean lasted just a tad too long for it to count as appropriate, with you giggling excessively at his comment just to be sure that zeke heard it. and as you parted to say goodbye to your family, your flirty friend kept his strong arm around your waist, as though it belonged there.

you don’t miss the way zeke glared at jean’s arm around you or the way he had the slightest frown on his face as he told you to ‘have fun and be careful’, but when you turned around and left the house to get into jean’s car, disappointment filled you when you realized that the blond male didn’t do anything to keep you from going. all this planning and finger crossing for nothing. ‘happy fucking birthday to me’, you bitterly thought, as you drove off into the night, mood already completely ruined.

after hours of trying to enjoy the end of your birthday even for a bit, you finally had enough. jean took you home, trying to make out with you on the backseat of his car in the parking lot, but as tempting as the idea of letting him fuck zeke yeager out of your mind sounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to. the fact that today was supposed to be the day you got your dad’s best friend right where you wanted him, was enough to make you crave a nice shower and your warm bed. you couldn’t wait for this day to end.

when jean pulled up to your house, you parted ways with a quick kiss and a cheeky promise of tomorrow, before making your way into the house. it was already 3 a.m., so you were sure everybody was already asleep, as you quietly made your way inside.

“there you are. welcome back, pretty girl.”

at hearing zeke’s raspy voice out of nowhere, you flinched and let out an unvoluntary squeak. what was he doing here?

you brought your hand to your heart, feeling it hammer against your chest, your eyes snapping to the spot your dad’s best friend was sitting in, in the kitchen. “uncle zeke! you scared me, what are you still doing here?”

as you made your way into the kitchen, you finally noticed the empty tequila bottle on the table and your unconscious father, snoring on the coach in the living room, just a few feet away.

“mmm, wanted to make sure you come home safely after your dad passed out, so i waited for you”, he casually retorted while his grey eyes inspected you from head to toe. smeared lipstick, a light sheen of sweat on your skin and your dress hiked up dangerously high on your thighs.

feeling small under his calculating gaze, you once again looked at your sleeping dad and gestured towards the bottle. “guess you also had a wild party going on?”

“mh, your dad’s just a lightweight.”

the air inside the kitchen was heavy and suffocating. you knew something was wrong with the way zeke wouldn’t stop staring at you and only answered with short sentences, his usual playful chattiness nowhere to be seen.

trying to get rid of the awkwardness and your nervousness, you asked: “where- uh, where’s mom?”

“asleep”, was the short answer you got, making you even more uneasy than before. “oh, w-well. i’m gonna go and also hit the hay. thanks for staying up for me uncle zeke, good night.”

“stop.”

this one word made you halt in your tracks just as you were about to turn around, making you look questioningly back at him. what you didn’t expect however, was to see zeke yeager spread his thighs and pet one of them with a simple ‘sit down, angel.” somehow, the pet name sounded condescending as it left his lips, but that didn’t stop your pussy from clenching at the sight of him with his legs wide open, looking positively inviting like never before.

your gaze quickly flickered towards the unconscious figure in the armchair, but even that couldn’t stop you when uncle zeke was offering you to sit on his lap, like you dreamed of for so long.

your legs slowly took you towards the spot he was sitting in, only for him to pull you on one of his thighs as soon as you were in his reach. his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, while the other found its place on your thigh, your heartrate skyrocketing at the close proximity.

not really knowing what to do with your hands and where to look, you once again brought your gaze to your dad in the living room, having the perfect view of him from your position on zeke’s lap, your fingers interlocked in your own lap as to not touch him too much.

“how was the party?”, he questioned seemingly nonchalant, but his tone had a certain edge to it, that made you feel as if you were being scolded.

you chuckled nervously, keeping your eyes locked on your unconscious father, as you started uttering: “oh, uh… it was- “

only to have zeke’s palm grab your cheeks, squeezing them together in a pout, as he turned your head towards him, forcing you to focus your gaze on him.

“did you fuck him?”

zeke was watching your expression closely when he practically growled the question, taking note of how your eyes widened, your breath deepened, and your thighs automatically pressed together as the meaning of his imposing words settled in.

the jealousy could practically be grabbed as it rolled off the blond male in waves and you knew, that if you wanted your birthday wish to come true, you had to play the part of the innocent and unsuspecting little girl.

“wha-? no!”, you exclaimed supposedly offended and distraught that he would even ask such a thing, as best as you could with your lips pressed together in a pout by his large palm.

the man’s dark grey – were they always this dark? – eyes narrowed as you seamlessly pretended to not know what he was hinting at, but the way you immodestly battered your eyelashes at him, one hand finding it’s way onto the palm that was squeezing your plush thigh, showed him at you weren’t as oblivious as you feigned to be.

“no, huh?”, he chuckled darkly, his hand leaving your face to push you down onto your knees between his legs instead, “then you’re not against helping your dear uncle with a certain issue, or are you baby?”

stammering out a little confused ‘what?’, you quickly checked whether your dad was still asleep, only for yeager’s palm to return to its place on your cheeks, squeezing them once again as he yanked your head back towards him. “don’t act like a brainless, useless slut, angel. it really doesn’t suit you. you’re my smart little girl, aren’t you?”

the sickly-sweet tone he used worked like a charm on your praise-starved brain. you wanted to please him and be his good girl, no matter what it took.

looking up at him with big, wide eyes, a drop of drool fell from your pouty lips onto his jean-clad crotch when he tightened his hold on your cheeks as you nodded like an obedient little toy, making him smile proudly.

“that’s my girl. now,”, he declared, unbothered by the tiny wetness seeping into his pants, his veiny hands made quick work of his belt and zipper, “show me how much you want to help your uncle zeke.”

just the sight of him whipping out his hard cock out of the confinements of his jeans and boxers, was enough to make a small pool of wetness gush out of your cunt, not that it mattered anyway. your lacy panties were already long soaked just from sitting on his lap.

zeke’s cock was longer and definitely thicker than you could’ve ever imagined, bigger than any you’ve ever taken with a prominent vein running on the underside, the tip flushed in a pretty pink. the saliva collecting in your mouth at the prospect of having him down your throat soon made you swallow hard, while you waited for his next instructions, not wanting to disappoint him by acting impulsively.

seeing his best friends’ daughter so submissive and eager-to-please on her knees between his legs as said best friend laid, passed out, just a few feet away, made zeke’s cock twitch. he knew it was sick and wrong, but he has always been a weak man when it came to you.

“go ahead, sweetheart. make uncle zeke feel good.”

at his permission to go, you nearly lunched forward, your pretty lips coated in sticky lipgloss instantly wrapping around the sensitive tip of his dick, making him groan deeply somewhere in the back of his throat.

you alternated between swirling your tongue around his cockhead and slowly sucking, as zeke put a cigarette between his lips, lightning it. normally, you hated the foul smell of nicotine and complained numerous times about how much you hated smokers but… the sight of it dangling between his thick fingers, as his other hand lost itself inside your hair, guiding your head to bob up and down on his length, awakened something deep in you, that you didn’t even know existed.

it didn’t help that while every other person reeking of smoke repulsed you, the same scent clinging to zeke brought you a sense of comfort. the fact that he also looked hot as fuck doing it, certainly didn’t hurt.

above you, the tall man made sure to let his eyes wander to your father from time to time, mostly keeping them locked on your lewd expression and your full lips wrapped around his cock though. he knew that the man a few feet away was a heavy sleeper, especially when drunk, so he wasn’t afraid of letting you know just how pleased he was with you.

“that’s a good girl. doing so good for me, want me to cum down your throat, sweetheart?”  

you mumbled a small ‘please’ around his cock, causing him to groan huskily as your vocal cords vibrated against his sensitive tip. knowing he was almost there, you hallowed your cheeks and tightened your throat, wanting him to lose himself in the inviting warmth of your mouth.

as soon as zeke felt himself teetering at the edge, he couldn’t stop himself from quickly putting out the cig in his hand and holding your head still with his large palms as he started frantically thrusting up in your mouth. having zeke use you to chase his own high made you clench around nothing as you gagged around his length, doing your best to try and keep your jaw slack just so you could hear the man praising you again.

at the feeling of you choking on his cock, zeke’s head fell back as he moaned hoarsely, the sound going straight to the fire in the pit of your stomach already forming just from sucking him off and hearing his erotic grunts.

on the next thrust inside your warm, wet mouth, zeke emptied himself in the back of your throat with a low growl of ‘good fucking girl’, making you whine around his dick. the blond pulled you off as you started coughing, instructing you to ‘swallow, angel.’ being the whipped, little toy you did as you were told, looking up at him as you licked the remaining cum of your spit covered lips.

zeke smirked at your sensual display, whilst he stood up, pulling you up to your feet, only to push you against the dinner table and impatiently smash his lips against yours.

you had half the mind to think about how he didn’t even seem to care that his sticky cum still lingered in your mouth as he kissed you before your brain completely shut down because you were making out with zeke yeager.

strong palms wandered up your thighs under your short dress, cupping your ass while the flimsy fabric rode up as a consequence of his wandering hands. the display of strength as he easily lifted you up on the hard surface behind you, made your head spin. everything this man was doing had you weak in the knees and if you weren’t already seated, you were convinced your legs would’ve given out underneath you.

as yeager made room for himself between your thighs, spreading them in the process, your arms found their place around his broad shoulders, pulling him down even closer towards you as you tasted the whiskey and smoke on his slightly chapped lips. you could hear his soft chuckle at the displeased whimper you let out when he removed himself from you, before tracing his thumb faintly over your clothed clit. just that slightest contact with your puffy bundle of nerves had your hips twitching up, your face heating up at the obvious display of his effect on you.

“aww, is my slutty little baby desperate for her favorite uncle?”, he asked in mock empathy, ripping your tights like it was nothing, before his eyes soaked up the sight of your baby pink lace panties completely ruined by your slick.

“i see you were ready for something to happen today. were you hoping the little boy from earlier would fuck you?”, he almost snarled the question, before adding: “or were you hoping for me, bunny? are these pretty panties just for me?”

as your core gushed out more of your juices at the pet name, you obediently shook your head at his accusation of you dressing up for jean, mewling out: “y-you, daddy. only you.”

zeke closed his eyes to compose himself when his cock twitched alive once again at the sweet melody of you calling him daddy. he knew this was the point of no return. he could’ve stopped this before, he was sure of that, but not anymore. not when you oh so sweetly called out for your daddy to take care of you.

in one swift motion, your panties were gone and thrown into a dark corner of the kitchen, the only light illuminating the space coming from the turned-on lamp in the foyer from when you came home. forcing you to recline back as zeke lifted your legs up on his muscular shoulders, you shuddered as his hot breath hit your drenched pussy.

after just one kitten lick to your core, you heard zeke’s pleased hum, mumbling something along the lines of ‘just as sweet as you, bunny’, but you couldn’t tell for sure because the very next second he was diving tongue first into you, sucking, licking, and slurping like it’s his last meal. the moan that left you at his intense ministrations was downright pornographic and you could only clench around nothing as his large palm came up to silence you.

“as much as i’d love to listen to your cries, sweet thing, gonna wake your parents up if you keep at it”, he muttered against your sensitive clit, the vibrations only making you mewl against his hand.

your hands tried to find purchase somewhere, the hard surface of the table, your plush thighs, before your nails finally got a grasp of his blond locks, using the leverage as an advantage to push his face even further into your slick cunt.

the obscene, wet sounds that echoed in the room were making your face heat up, but the embarrassment didn’t stop you from grinding desperately against his tongue, his thick beard rubbing painfully but oh so deliciously against the delicate skin of your inner thighs.

when you felt two of his thick fingers probe at your entrance before pushing in, instantly hitting that one spot inside you, you threw your head back as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, thighs trembling against his head as you reached your peak around his digits. your back arched off the wooden table, thighs snugly pressing against the sides of his head, almost suffocating him in the process, while you moaned a long, high-pitched ‘daddy’ against his palm.

zeke yeager could proudly say that he’s had his fair share of women, but the sight of you, succumbing to the pleasure he was providing you with, was by far the most erotic he had the privilege of witnessing. the mix of your cross-eyed expression, your sloppy cunt clenching impossibly around his thick fingers and your body twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, only fueled his desire to see you go dumb on his fat cock.

a hard slap against the fat of your right thigh caused you to squeal, your legs sliding down from his shoulders, completely limp from all the spent energy. zeke leaned down, once again capturing your lips in a heated make out. his warm tongue still had the distinct taste of your release on it as it slipped between your lips, his full beard soaked in your juices scratching against your cheeks and chin, but you certainly didn’t mind as long as you could have him between your legs, mouths interlocked.

“wanna see your cute lil’ ass while i wreck you, bunny. can you turn around for daddy?”, he questioned, voice raspy, but he didn’t actually wait for an answer, grabbing your hips in a bruising grip and flipping you over on your stomach, ass pressed up against his crotch already. not being able to control yourself at another clear display that his muscles weren’t just for show, your hips automatically grinded back against his painfully hard cock.

another strong blow was delivered, this time to your bouncy behind, your small mewl echoing in the large space. “slutty, desperate whores aren’t appreciated here, bunny. thought you were daddy’s good, little girl? guess daddy was wrong about you”, zeke sighed in faux disappointment, knowing you would do anything for him to keep praising you.

“n-no! am your good, little girl! ‘m sorry, daddy, please don’t leave”, you practically sobbed out, to drunk on his touch to realize the manipulative undertone in his phrasing.

smirking victoriously, the blond tenderly smoothed his huge palm, with his fingers covered in your already dried up essences, over your ass check, his fat tip nudging against your soaked entrance, whilst he shh-ed you, promising that he’s ‘not gonna leave you bunny, ‘m all yours.’

at the promise of him belonging to you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, just as yeager decided to push his aching dick into your tight pussy. at the first bump against your gummy walls, you both knew no one would ever be able to compare. it was a tight fit as he continued to push past the resistance of your cunt, hissing at the continuous contractions around his sensitive cock. no way in hell, he thought to himself as he already had to hold himself back from cumming as if he were some virgin all over again.

when he finally bottomed out, his patience was close to non-existent, so without waiting for you to adjust, he started thrusting in you like a mad man. your hands flew out to grab the other edge of the wooden surface to have some kind of support, as his powerful thrusts made the whole table shake and drag across the tiled floor.

“’s too much, daddy! slow down!”, you wailed, knowing full well that this was exactly what you waited for all this time. the dark chuckle that left his panting and grunting mouth told you that he was also very aware of the fact that you didn’t actually want him to slow down, so the only reaction you got, besides his acknowledging chuckle, were his thrusts picking up in speed.

after another strong hit to your jiggling ass and a groan that sounded suspiciously like ‘such a perfect ass’, zeke leaned over you, completely covering you with his large frame. his hand found its way to your front, giving your tits a quick squeeze through your dress, before continuing its journey up, finally settling around your neck.

as it constricted around your neck, thick fingers expertly pressing against the pressure points, restricting the air flow oh so deliciously, your spit-covered lips fell open in a silent ‘o’, the act lurching you impossibly closer to your orgasm. at this point, the only coherent words you were able to formulate were ‘yes’, ‘daddy’ and ‘please’, causing the tall man’s chest to fill with pride at your dumbed out state.

“my cute, submissive, little bunny. have i fucked you stupid with my cock?”, he teased, only to get his confirmation by the lack of response on your side, too far gone to process that he asked a question.

the rhythmic clenching of your warm core reminded him that his dick was practically begging him to let it stuff you full of his sticky cum, so as his grip on your throat and hip tightened even more, he let his carnal desires take over as he rutted impossibly faster inside you.

every thrust caused his fat tip to poke harshly against your cervix, the feeling of pain only fueling your pleasure, as you silently took all your favorite uncle was giving you. somewhere in the back of your mind the thought of your father sleeping just in the next room flew around, but it quickly got fucked back out by zeke’s fat cock.

at the next rough plunge inside your warm walls and the low growl of ‘cum on daddy’s fucking cock, bunny’ directly beside your ear, you came undone with a loud moan of his name. you were pretty sure the force of your orgasm made you blackout for a second, because the next time you came to your senses, zeke was shooting his load inside your inviting cunt directly at your cervix, your name leaving his lips like a prayer.

you were exhausted. your whole body shook and twitched, your stomach hurt from being pressed against the edge of the dinner table for so long, sweat dripping down on the surface from your face and neck.

suddenly the room was way too quiet, safe for the heavy breathing and your occasional whimpers. slowly, zeke pulled out, only to spread your cheeks apart to take a good luck at your abused pussy pushing out his white cum. it slowly trickled down your legs, mixing with your leaked juices on the tiles beneath your feet.

not having the energy to move, you let the blond male pull down your dress back over your ass, listening to the rustle of fabric and belt clicking as he got dressed again. just as he gently helped you stand-up again, you could hear a yawn coming from the doorway that led to the living room.

“what’re you both doing?”, your half-awake father asked as he made his way through the kitchen past you to get to the foyer. your nails dug into zeke’s muscular forearms as the panic of getting caught formed in the pit of your stomach, only to hear the older man murmur a casual, seemingly sleepy ‘she just got home, gonna go sleep now’, as though he wasn’t blowing out your back just a few minutes prior.

with an unsuspecting ‘’aight, night you two’, your dad disappeared in the shared bedroom with your sleeping mother.

“fuck”, you breathed out, stressed at almost being caught and your legs buckling, only for zeke’s strong arms to hold you up right.

“hey, look at me, angel”, the male softly demanded, gaze tender as your eyes met his. “i’ll bring you to bed and clean up here, okay? don’t worry about a thing.”

a sleepy, but happy smile stretched itself across your lips at him caring for you so deeply.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

without second-guessing the request, you obediently opened your mouth, only to feel his saliva hit your outstretched tongue. the taste made you mewl needily as you realized what it all meant. you were his and he was yours.

zeke chuckled, amused by your blissed out expression, before pecking your lips, picking you up and caring you to your room with you mumbling a satisfied ‘best birthday ever’ against his neck.

[between-the-lines-fic]

Between the Lines - Bruno Madrigal (Modern AU) Chapter 2

Summary: Bruno Madrigal is a popular telenovela writer, though he keeps his identity secret under the pen name Pedro Oscar. You just happen to be a big fan of his who’s doing their laundry while a telenovela plays in the background.

Pairing: gn!Reader x Bruno Madrigal

Words: 1,742

Warnings: None!

Chapter count: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 (More to come!)

Available on: AO3

A week had never felt this long before. While work at Abuelo’s corner shop never felt particularly exciting, the eternal ticking of the old analog clock next to the cashier counter was going to drive you nuts. At least he had that old radio tv that you could watch the telenovela on.

“Por favor Jorge, tengo que saber lo que quiere tu corazón!” Gabriella cries, ever the distraught damsel. Seriously, was this lady able to do anything other than shriek? You huff, flipping through the inventory notebook as you watch the store.

At least Abuelo wasn’t here to see you mope since you had this shift to yourself. He’d been getting more and more tired lately, which, while worrying… was also relieving. At least he was finally taking some breaks. It had been hard enough to convince him to loosen the reins on his beloved shop in the beginning years, especially since you had just earned your Bachillerato Académico.

“You should work hard for your dreams, pequeño nenúfar, not mine,” he had protested, nudging your shoulder with that embarrassing nickname of his. But, it was his source of income and supplement to the family. You couldn’t just leave him to scour himself to the bone while you went off and pranced at some silly arts college. No, you’d stay with your feet planted firmly in the ground, supporting what you could so that he’d have an easier rest of his life. Twenty years later and twenty years wiser, you decided that you had made the right choice, even if it meant boring days like this.

Of course, you’d catch yourself glancing at the calendar every day or so, and with that came the flustered embarrassment and self-reprimanding. Either the odd stranger (Bruno, you silently remind yourself, holding onto the name like a precious stone held close to your chest) would be there, doing his laundry again, or he wouldn’t. And if he wasn’t… so be it.

Why were you stuck on him anyways? Sure, he had kind eyes and large hands, beautiful hair that you wanted to sink your fingers in, and-

“Podría ahogarme en tu mirada, Gabriella,” Jorge murmurs in echo of your thoughts.

Mierda. Maybe it’d be best to not try and reason through your hopes.

When the day rolled around, you could barely contain the nervous fluttering in your chest, and finally halting in front of the door to the laundromat. If he wasn’t there…

Well, then you had your novelas to keep you company, didn’t you? It’d be fine. Just a bit quieter.

Pushing the door open with your back, you cradle your basket to your chest and trudge over to a machine, eyes scanning the room with sudden eagerness.

Empty.

“Ah, it’s you,” he says behind you, and you suppress the urge to scream. That’s twice he’s snuck up on you, now.

You whirl around to face him with a brandished lint roller, expression screwed up with irritation, he should be more careful, you’d get a heart attack, but your words die on your lips.

His hair is tied up. It looks nice like that, doesn’t it? All fluffy and curled, as if it were a cloud. You could never quite get your curls to look as voluminous as the models on the conditioner bottles could. Perhaps if you just…

Suddenly remembering yourself, you clear your throat and lower the lint roller. Bruno seems reasonably wary, holding up his hands as he eyes both you and the possible weapon. “Good to… see you again. Bruno, right?” As if you’d forget.

“Mhm,” he grunts, palms lowering as he lets one rest on the nearby machine.

You fall into the pit of another silence, staring up at him before setting your basket on the machine. Why had you been looking forward to this again? It was so painfully awkward, with nothing but the passionate (and cheesy) theme song of another telenovela rumbling in the background.

Wordlessly, the both of you get to work, sorting your respective laundry by color into the proper piles. It stretches on and on, until.

“¿Qué quieres decir con que es tu hijo? ¡Es claramente rubio!” Bruno mutters under his breath with the imposing grandmother on screen, what was her name? Ana?

But it’s jarring enough to get a laugh out of you and you respond in kind, puffing your chest as you quote Jorge, “¡Es mi hijo, no importa el color de su cabello! Lo amo Mamá, él es mi orgullo y alegría.”

Bruno shoots you an appreciative grin, and you grin right back, shoulders lowering comfortably. Right. This is why.

It seems that Bruno must have a similar schedule to yours, considering you keep meeting each weekend, same time, in the same laundromat. The silences get smaller each time, the conversation becoming almost a game between you two. Whoever can quote something on the tv as it airs first ‘wins,’ though you never really remember setting a specific prize. You suppose that smile is enough.

It starts small, as most friendships do. But soon enough, for your every rambling explanation he has an amused retort, a probing question, or an approving hum. You talk the hour away as your respective laundry machines whirl and whirl, a comfortable cycle that you come to rely on to bring some brightness to your week.

“What do you mean Gabriella should choose Hernando? He’s the villain, isn’t he?” Bruno jabs, sorting his darks and lights before he tosses them in the washer.

“Well,” you begin, shoulders rising to their defensive tilt as they have countless times before on the subject, “villains should get their happy ending too! He’s been through a lot, you know?” He grins down at you, something like mischief dancing in his eyes.

“And that’s why he’d eat you up in a heartbeat. Hernando doesn’t care about anyone, that’s his whole thing!” Bruno replies, waggling his eyebrows.

“Yuh-huh. You just wait, I’ll bet Gabriella chooses him within the next aired episode. Jorge is sweet, but Hernando just has too much temptation going for him!” You huff, though there’s no real fire behind it.

He smirks, shrugging. “I can bet that you’ll find out something about Hernando that makes you change your mind on that. No man is that mysterious without some skeletons in his closet.”

“Dios, another one of your predictions,” you groan, bringing one hand dramatically to your forehead. He huffs sharply out of his nose, which at this point was like hearing a full-bellied laugh from him. “You,” you continue, pointing your trusty lint roller at him, “can see the future, my friend. I just wish the future wasn’t so cruel to Hernando!”

At first, you thought he was a man of few words, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Given an interesting enough topic, the man could spin a tale as long as that one thread you keep finding mysteriously reappearing at the end of one of your old sweaters.

He never really talks about his work or his own life, but he’s enamored with the fictional ones playing on the screen. While you’d been uncertain at first that he’d been as much of a geek about Pedro Oscar’s writing as you were, you were soon enough reassured that you’d met your match. Bruno was delighted to talk about the certain cinematic choices that Oscar had taken liberties with, barely praising and criticizing in further measure.

At times you found yourself defending the poor man for weeks, each one of your laundry companion’s concerns rebutted with what you considered flawless logic, though it didn’t mean that you won every argument. In the end, telenovela was telenovela, in all of its terribly flawed glory. Even you had to admit that the Abuela Ana coma story arc felt quite contrived.

“Say,” he says one weekend, not quite meeting your gaze. Strange, and yet strangely familiar. It reminds you of when he first appeared, unsure and unreadable as he wrings his hands with a hesitant smile. “Would you… want to go get some coffee? I think we could… er… do without the detergent smell, for once. Talk about the telenovelas somewhere else?”

Your heart leaps in your throat, but you manage to swallow it back down. “Oh. Sure. But… what about the laundry?” Finding your bearings, you crack a grin. “I’m not exactly looking to get my socks stolen.”

He clears his throat, and you find your eyes drawn to it. Focus, fool, focus. “Not now, of course. Maybe later this week?”

Oh. Oh, is this…?

“Sure. Let me give you my number?” He nods rapidly in response, and you have to restrain a laugh at that. “I, uh… don’t have any paper on me. Or… a pen. Do you?”

Bruno winces, and he pats his pockets. “Ah, I always keep a pen on me, but…” he pulls out a crumpled receipt, stained with something that looks like food grease. Staring blankly at it, he sighs and offers you a sheepish smile. Now, you can’t restrain the laugh. A bright flush comes to his cheeks, darkening as he splutters a wordless retort to your laughter, but you snatch both the pen and scrap of paper before he can form any real response. Scribbling the storefront’s telephone on the blank side, you hand it back with a smile.

“I’ll keep the pen,” you tease, tucking it behind your ear. “Just to make sure you don’t chicken out.” His eyes dart to your fingers, and then to the paper you’ve handed him, which he neatly folds and places back in his pocket.

“... Right. I’ll… call you soon, then?” He gathers up his basket, clothes already folded. Somehow, that fact had escaped you two for the past twenty or so minutes.

“Right.” You wave goodbye, a warm smile scrunching your eyes as he slips out the door with a bashful wave of his own.

As soon as he’s out of sight, you let out a delighted laugh, doing a little twirl. You, you of all people, have a coffee date. You pull the pen from your ear, twirling it in your fingers. It’s engraved, oddly enough, and the name seems a little familiar, though you can't quite place it. “Bruno Madrigal.” The fact that he just let you keep it… well, that’s something to address later. You can scold him on his doormat-iness when you see him. On a date. At the coffee shop.

With a bright grin, you gather your clothes and make a beeline for the door.

[v-hope]

One Way Ticket

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader (ft. Yeontan bc Family)

Genre: Flufffff, established relationship, long distance relationship (not for long), and like, slight angst at the beginning if you squint your eyes and do a backflip

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Long distance relationships are never an easy thing, and although you and Taehyung had managed to make it work for four years and were used to not seeing each other that much already, he couldn’t help but feel like his birthday was ruined at the news of you being stuck at the airport due to a bad weather flight delay. However, although things didn’t quite go to plan, it only took for you to arrive two hours before the day was over for it to be his happiest of birthdays so far.

A/N: Hellooo, well, obviously this is for my man’s birthday 🥳💝 This story takes place in my Red Flags series’ timeline since one of you requested it and I thought it would be really cute, but you don’t need to have read it to understand what’s going on here. I hope you guys enjoy! please let me know your thoughts~

“You were supposed to be here today” Taehyung reminded you, unconsciously tightening his hold on the phone as his low voice did a good job at letting you know just how upset he was.

You sighed, that alone letting him know you weren’t having a good time with said fact that was just not happening anymore either. “I can’t control the weather, love…”

Now, he knew that. Of course he knew that. But right then, he really fucking wished you did control the weather. That way you wouldn’t be stuck in another continent still due to a snowstorm that had delayed, if not cancelled, all flights that week — a stupid snowstorm that was keeping you away from him for longer than you should have.

It was a joke. It had got to be a joke.

That was what Taehyung kept telling himself throughout the whole phone call, and continuing to believe —to wanting to believe— so even after you hung up.

You were supposed to arrive that night. That had been the plan all along. All his schedule he had rearranged so he could make sure that particular night he would spend with you. Just you and him. Since the very next day, also known as his birthday, he would have to go to rehearsal for BTS’ presentation on the 31th like every other year, he was looking forward the most to this night. He had it all planned out. Your flight would arrive at 8pm, he would pick you up and then the two of you would have dinner together back at your —now— shared place. You would wait up until midnight, have some cake afterwards, and then stay up late so you could, well, catch up on a few coupley things you had been missing out on for a good while now. After all, you had not seen each other in nearly five months.

It was funny, how he used to always say he would never be able to do long distance relationships when he was younger, yet here he was now, four years —and going strong— into one. It was hard as hell, he could not deny it, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way, not as long as he got to be with you in the end. And at the end of the day it was all worth it, for you had finally graduated uni back home, managed to find a job in Seoul, and were now moving in with him like the two of you had agreed on a long time ago, once you realised you were most definitely sticking together for as long as your lives allowed you to. So, even if he had to wait a little longer to see you, this time it was different, for you had only gotten a one way ticket, and he would never again have to drop you off at the airport and cling on to you like his life depended on it, somehow being harder for him to let go of you as the years went by.

Nevertheless, it sucked. Right then, it really fucking sucked. Five months had gone by without seeing you already and turns out he would now have to wait one or even two more days than planned? Bullshit. And that if he was being optimistic, because he swore to God he would lose his shit if you had to spend New Years Eve on a plane, alone. Not like you were spending it together to begin with either, since he had that thing to attend to, but you would at least have a good time with some of the friends you had made during the time you had stayed in Seoul for your uni’s exchange program, and who had now invited you over to a party you had oh-so-excitedly told him about.

That night, Taehyung went to bed late. Still wanting to believe with everything in him you were just pulling a prank on him like you loved to do every now and then, and that you would walk through the front door anytime with that tired face of yours after the long ass flights to Korea he was so used to by then — the same exhausted face that would light up as a bright smile took over your factions instead at the sight of him.

However, that night, you did not make it home. What you did make it to instead, was to be the first one to congratulate him on his day. Over the phone, yes, with the airport’s background noise and not in person like he had wanted to, yet there you were being once again the first one to do so, at exactly 00:00. And somehow, that alone was enough to make him happy before going to sleep. Not as happy as he would’ve been with getting to sleep with you in his arms, of course, but happy nevertheless.

He did not lose faith, though. The next morning, as he got ready to head out to rehearsal, he kept glancing at his apartment’s door over and over, still waiting for it to burst open anytime and for you to walk inside right after.

When that didn’t happen, he looked forward to the moment his members brought him his birthday cake as they waited in the dressing rooms for their turn to rehearse. Now, the guys hadn’t told him they were bringing him cake, but after all these years it was pretty much a given. And it would only make sense that you were there, right? Whether it was bringing the cake to him as everyone in the room sang the traditional birthday song to him, or showing up as a surprise right after.

Once that didn’t happen either, he couldn’t hide his disappointment anymore — still being grateful to everyone else for trying to make his special day a memorable one, yet not being able to fully enjoy it without you there. Even falling in the cliché of wishing for you to be there as he blew out the candles. That was truly all he wanted, after all.

And once his schedule for the day was finally cleared up, his last hope was walking into the apartment that night and seeing you already there waiting for him.

Again, that didn’t happen.

Biting the inside of his cheek as he walked into an empty apartment, although Yeontan was there to excitedly welcome him back home and had managed to bring a weak smile to his face, he couldn’t help but feel his eyes well up with tears. Telling himself over and over how stupid it was to be upset over something neither of you could control, he contemplated calling you for a few seconds, shaking that thought off with a tilt of his head and deciding to go take a hot shower instead. No matter how bad he wanted to, if he did call you, he knew for sure he would end up being even more upset than he already was, and then you would end up being upset as well, and that he did not want.

Not even bothering on drying his hair later that night, he changed into his pyjamas and called Tan to go keep him some company like it was usual by then. Watching the fluffy dog make himself comfortable on the mattress, Taehyung turned the lights off so he could get into bed for once and for all — wanting nothing but to sleep that day off so you would hopefully be there by the morning. Although it would no longer be his birthday, he wished he could at least get to spend some time together before he had to head out once again.

Before he could completely doze off, however, he felt Yeontan snap up from his sleep and effusively wave his tail from side to side as he ran to the closed door of the bedroom. Letting out a tired groan, Taehyung glanced over at the clock on his nightstand, staring at the number ten on it for a second before he turned the lamp on and fixed his eyes on his excited pup.

“I already fed you,” his voice came out hoarse at the lack of speaking, catching Tan’s attention for a second there before he was back at barking at the door. “Don’t tell me you want to go to the b—”

That’s when the sound of a key making it inside the front door’s lock caught his attention. And, you see, only two people had a key to the apartment. One was his, of course, and the other one, much to his excitement right then, was yours.

Not even having time to catch his breath, he jumped off the bed and opened the bedroom’s door, watching Yeontan sprint down the already illuminated hallway as you had just turned its lights on — a huge smile parting his lips at the sight of you, not being able to hold back a giggle of his at the way you had panicked and closed the door harder than you had intended to, so Tan wouldn’t be able to run out of the apartment.

“Tan-ie bean!” you excitedly greeted the pup first thing as he reached your side.

Struggling to move past your suitcase, you managed to kneel down to pet the cute ball off fluff with one hand as you held the other one as far up as you could, holding a strawberry cupcake with a single candle on it that you had already lit up right before coming in — maybe not your brightest of ideas.

Staring up at your boyfriend, who was still on the other end of the hallway, you smiled brightly and stood up straight as he came closer. “Happ—”

Before you could even finish what you had initially planned to sing and had by then settled for cheerfully chanting instead, Taehyung had already pulled you into his arms — unintentionally blowing out the candle as he had rushed over to you way faster than he’d like to admit.

“I missed you” he mumbled, wrapping his arms tighter around your figure and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he felt his heart at ease.

You smiled sweetly, wrapping your arms around him as well —being careful enough not to stain his designer pyjamas with the cupcake’s icing— and pressing down a small kiss to his shoulder.

“I missed you, too” you cooed, hearing him giggle when you planted a kiss on his neck this time.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting on a plane already?”

“Because I thought I would get here before you came back from rehearsal and I’d surprise you. You know, wait for you with dinner and whatnot…” you pouted. “But then of course I had trouble with my luggage and got here way too late. So I got you a cupcake and a candle instead!”

Taehyung giggled at the way you had ever so cheerfully said that last part, pulling slightly away from your body so he could glance at the cupcake in your hand you had just raised up in a victorious way.

“You could’ve just showed up barehanded, said ‘happy birthday’, and I would’ve been the happiest”.

“You interrupted me when I was about to tell you ‘happy birthday’, though” you huffed over dramatically.

Letting out a light laugh, he securely cupped your face in his warm hands and rested his forehead on yours, smiling blissfully as ever at how close he was able to have you right then, at how he was able to feel your warmness in his hands after all those months. “You can say it again now”.

“But you already blew out the candle” you pouted, bringing the treat closer to him so he could see your point.

“I guess this is the moment my wish comes true then”.

“You didn’t even get to make a wish, you idiot” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, I did” he nodded his head determinedly. “Earlier today. And not to brag about it, but it already became true”.

“Was it perhaps for me to arrive today?” you coyly batted your eyelashes, earning a very visible roll of eyes from him.

“Cocky, aren’t we?”

“I mean,” you shrugged, taking a step back from him and his hold. “I can always go back home and send your actual wish ov—”

“Yah,” he stopped you as you dramatically turned around to pretend to leave and Yeontan followed right after, pulling you back to him by your wrist. “I didn’t spend pretty much my entire birthday wishing for you to get here so you can leave me just like that” his eyes turned softer, yet still held that playful vibe in them. “Besides,” he pulled you closer, this time by your waist. “Funny how you said ‘go back home’ when this is your home now, baby” your heart skipped a beat at his remark, appreciating the way he looked up and puckered his lips as he pretended to fall deep in thought. “Hm… Maybe I misheard”.

You giggled at the way he had copied your overdramatic ways, bringing your free hand up to sweetly caress his cheek. “My bad, love”.

Taehyung smiled, with that boxy smile you fell in love with years ago, and nodded softly to let you know it was alright. “Can I get my birthday kiss now?” he murmured, ever so faintly brushing his longing lips against yours. “I’m kinda dying over here”.

Shaking your head in amusement as you laughed, you bit your lower lip. “Just kiss me already, you dork”.

So he did, not even dreaming of wasting another second before his lips hungrily crashed against yours. He had missed you like crazy, he always did, but right then, as your soft lips were pressing on his and your hand made its way from his cheek to the back of his head, entangling your fingers in his still damp hair, he realised just how bad he had craved your touch, how bad he had craved you.

Having him deepen the kiss, you couldn’t help but take one step back as you had lost your balance — his hand being quick to bring your body right back to press against his, later resting on your lower back to keep you steady as his other hand firmly cupped your cheek.

“Happy birthday” you mumbled against his mouth when you had pulled away to catch your breath, feeling the corners of his lips curve up before he pressed them to yours once more.

“It is now” he hummed, drawing tender circles with his thumb on your chin and not being able to hold back a giggle when it was you the one to steal a kiss from his mouth right then.

Your breath hitched when you felt his hands made their way down your body, letting out a squeal when they grabbed your thighs and picked you up without a warning — your arms wrapping tightly around his neck and legs around his waist as his hands were firmly placed on your ass to keep you from slipping down while he walked the two of you out of the hallway and into the living room, having Yeontan run past you two and go lie on the couch.

“Yah, I just got here and you’re already going for second base?” you teased him with raised eyebrows.

Taehyung shook his head, cockily raising one of his own. “I’ve earned my right to all bases a long time ago, I don’t know what you’re talking about”.

“Don’t get too cocky, Kim Taehyung” you warned him as he sat you down on the edge of the counter, being careful enough not to knock down one of the pictures of the two of you that were neatly displaying on it. “I might revoke all your rights”.

“You wouldn’t” he daringly squinted his eyes. “Not on my birthday”.

You threw your head back, letting out a loud laugh and placing the cupcake down on the counter before you went back to his eye level. “Only under two hours until it’s over, so...”

“You wouldn’t” he repeated confidently.

“What makes you so sure, old man?”

Shaking his head in amusement and deciding not to comment on the taunting name you had just called him, he didn’t even try to hide the smirk that was curving up the corners of his lips as he leaned in. “I just know”.

Not even trying to play it hard anymore, you met his lips in the middle, humming contentedly when he placed his hand behind your neck so he could take control over the kiss he was not quite willing to let go of yet. And neither were you, which is why your eyes remained closed and your lips slightly puckered up —clearly wanting more— when he suddenly pulled away one minute later.

“Okay, now tell me my birthday present!” he demanded.

Still being too stunned by the intoxicating kiss he had just given you, it took you a second to open your eyes after hearing his muffled yet excited words against your lips — eyes locking with his excited ones as his hands unconsciously rested on your thighs.

“Oh, it’s in my bag!” you jumped up once you managed to understand what he had meant. “Let me go get it”.

Although your words were meant for him to move aside so you could get up on your feet and rush over to the forgotten suitcase on the hallway, Taehyung did not move an inch — if anything, tightening the hold of his hands on your thighs to keep you from going anywhere.

“Not that one”.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “The cupcake?” you offered, earning a light laugh from him, along with a small shake of his head. “Sex? Because I know I was just threatening with revoking that right, but since it’s still your birthday, I mean...”

Taehyung laughed wholeheartedly, once again shaking his head no as he brought his face closer to yours. “Although I would love that and will take you up on that offer later,” his bold words managed to bring some heat to your cheeks. “That is not what I meant”.

“What did you mean then?”

“Just want you to tell me something...” he hinted, gently caressing your sides. “How long will you be staying, baby?”

You rolled your eyes when it finally hit you what he had meant all along. And you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at how such simple things were the ones that made him the happiest. “Well, considering I only got a one way ticket over here this time,” your heart sped up at the way his smile grew wider at the sound of that. “And that the rest of my stuff will arrive here in a few days… I’d say I’m staying for quite a long, long time”.

“How about forever?” he smiled brightly.

You giggled, tilting your head up in anticipation as you felt him lean in to press his mouth on yours. “I like the sound of that”.

“I love the sound of that” he agreed, pressing another kiss to your smiling lips.

And you truly did, for although you were leaving everything behind, your family, your childhood friends, your culture... it was easy as long as you had him. And even though you knew there would be times homesickness would hit you like a truck, especially when the time came and Taehyung would have to go on tour with his group, you were ready to start your new life here with him. You had already lived here once for a year, after all, the only difference being you now got to live with your long term boyfriend, and, of course, that you wouldn’t have to count down the days until you had to go back home and away from him anymore.

“Everything alright?” he wondered, catching up on the way you had momentarily spaced out.

“Mhm…” you were quick to reassure him with an eager nod of your head. “Now eat your birthday treat before I do” you threatened, grabbing the cupcake that had been lying next to you all along and bringing it up to his face.

Taehyung chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck that was sweetly followed by another one. “But I have my birthday treat right here…”

Although flustered by both his words and the way his lips kept peppering soft kisses all over the sensitive skin of your neck, you stood your ground. “Pretty sure I’m your girlfriend, but oh well”.

He chuckled once more — before you could react, dipping one of his long fingers on the icing and spreading a good amount of it on your lips. “Now you’re both”.

You didn’t really get to fully laugh at his playful antics before the sound of it was muffled by his mouth sucking on your bottom lip, his fingers holding onto your chin to keep you from pulling away as he deepened the kiss — making sure to remove every last trace of icing on your mouth before he slid his tongue into it.

Breaking the kiss for a brief second for what he thought was to catch your breath before bringing your already swollen lips back to his awaiting ones, he found himself letting his jaw drop when you opened your mouth not to kiss him once more, but to bring the infamous cupcake up to it and loudly bite down on it.

“Yah, that is my strawberry cupcake!” he called you out — although trying to act mad, having a hard time hiding his smile at the way you had just covered your full mouth as you laughed whilst trying to chew right then.

“You weren’t eating it, so…” you shrugged.

Before you could take another bite, however, he grabbed your wrist, quickly moving it up to his mouth instead and shoving the entire baked good into it in just one go.

Petrified after what just happened, you stared at your now empty hand — amazed by the way he had managed not to bite into your fingers with how fast and forceful his mouth had been, before your eyes fixed on your full-mouthed boyfriend as he struggled to chew the whole thing down.

“Mine” he stated, not minding to cover his mouth as he was almost done with it already.

“I tend to forget how big your mouth actually is” you admitted, mindlessly sucking the remains of icing from off your fingers.

Taehyung scoffed, rushing to swallow down so he could properly speak. “You out of all people should know what my mouth can d—”

“You know,” you cut him off before he could pronounce that last letter and bring his cocky point across. “Booking a return plane ticket sounds really tempting right now”.

“Oh, yeah?” he tauntingly raised one of his eyebrows, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter and making you wrap your legs around his waist. “Good thing from now on those return tickets will bring you right back to Seoul”.

That was what made him the happiest. After all those years of buying ticket after ticket, all those years of having to drop you off at the airport so you could go back home, all those years of having to wait for endless months just so you could see each other for a few days, all of that, was over now.

From that night on, this was your home. You, him and Yeontan, and of course, the eventual additions that would be made in a couple of years.

And that was the best part. No matter where you travelled to from now on, you would always just go visit abroad and return right here, back to him — never again being almost about to miss his birthday, for you would both go to sleep and wake up right next to him during all the upcoming ones, just like he had ached you to do every single day ever since you got together four years ago.

[foli-vora]

more than words, pt.5

masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for your patience! Honestly I struggled so hard with this chapter and I don’t know why, I wrote and deleted things so many fucking times (overthinking, as usual), so I hope this lives up to your expectations! ☺️ and thank you for all of your love for this fic—you’ve all truly made my heart explode! 🥰 also, really sorry if I’ve missed any tags! Okay, here we go!

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catish’ Morales x f!reader

Word count: lmao... just under 5.6k I’m sorry

Warnings: okay, let’s see... swearing, ✨ smut—finally ✨ 18+, no minors! fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving) unprotected p in v sex (wrap before you tap people), masturbation (f), cum shot, cum eating, Frankie’s a messy pussy eater and no I will not be taking constructive criticism because he’s a thirsty man and you know I’m right. I think that’s it! (please let me know if there’s something I should add!)

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.6

+

Fuck. He was really here.

He was really here, in the dim lighting of your tiny apartment, hands buried in his pockets as he watches you shuffle on the spot.

Well shit. Now what?

“Um, so... this is my apartment.” Duh—you idiot.

You frown a little at yourself, palms clamming up with nerves. Your usual moves had all but vanished from your mind. You used to be good at this, so fucking good, but now, with Frankie standing right in front of you in all of his fucking glorious flannelette perfection, you felt a little out of your depth.

How did this shit usually go? You can’t remember. Fuck, you can’t remember. How did you get from point A to point B? Shit. You’re going to embarrass yourself. You can feel it. Oh my god, are you sweating?

Oblivious to your inner turmoil, his gaze flickers around at your words, taking in the many small personal details that make the space your own which he had missed earlier, before landing back on you, eyes darkening as your tongue slips out and runs along your bottom lip.

“It’s nice.” He comments, voice coming out a lot huskier than normal. You can’t help but clench in response, insides twisting pleasantly as his raspy tone settles in your ears.

“Can I—can I get you anything? Coffee?”

Stop. This is ridiculous. The both of you were damn near close to combusting in the truck and now you’re offering coffee? You might as well just show him his way out.

He senses your nerves then, relieved he wasn’t the only one seemingly unsure of how to move this along, but keeps his eyes on you, testing the waters as he speaks, “Maybe in the morning.”

Well, fuck. Okay then.

You swallow, chest heaving slightly as you inhale, heart fluttering away in your chest. God, just kiss him. You don’t need a build-up, just do it. You could feel the ghost of his previous kisses along your lips, could feel the heat of his hands run across your body from when he had pressed you up against the windmill. You needed it all again.

It’s quiet as you both study each other, lost in feeling of growing arousal as your clock ticks slowly somewhere in the background, and then something just snaps.

You both jump forward at the same time, Frankie’s arms immediately wrapping around your waist and bringing you flush against his body while your hands tangle in his hair, tugging sharply and pulling a low groan from him as his lips eagerly mash against yours.

The strength that you meet each other with throws you both off balance, and you stumble into your dining table, breathing a quiet chuckle at the apology he mutters against your lips. You shift to sit on the edge of it, widening your thighs to make room for him as he steps closer and presses his hips tightly against yours.

Your hands shake as you desperately attack the buttons of his flannelette shirt, all but ripping the damn thing down his arms when it eventually parts, and making a small noise of impatience when your hands slide along cotton instead of skin. He briefly pulls away from your mouth, hands quick to tug the plain t-shirt he had worn underneath his shirt up and off his torso, melting back into you the second he drops it to the floor.

Holy shit.

His skin is warm and smooth under your palms as they hungrily feel along his chest and dip along his stomach, grabbing desperately at his waist when his tongue slides into your mouth. He responds eagerly to your touch, pushing your dress up and out of the way to run his hands along on the bare skin of your legs. They stop just below the line of your panties, his thumbs tracing along the inside of your thighs and smoothing dangerously close to your covered pussy.

He feels your muscles move under his touch, feels the whimper fall from your mouth and into his when he squeezes your thighs. Your hips roll forward automatically, needing his touch to go just that little bit higher.

“Please touch me,” you plead quietly, lashes fluttering as you gaze up at him and his chest tightens.

His fingers are quick to move the lace aside and fuck—

He watches your face with open wonder; watches how your eyes close when his fingers lightly trace over you, watches how your breath catches when his thumb swipes through your arousal and spreads it over your swollen clit, rubbing soft insistent circles that have your toes curling in your shoes.

“Frankie—”

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against the skin of your throat, tongue circling over your pulse point before his nose trails up and along your jaw, pressing a kiss at the corner of your lips while your face pinches in pleasure, brows burrowing and grip tightening on his arms.

“More… please—”

He hums lowly, a finger soon swiping through your folds and prying at your entrance, sliding into the wet heat of your pussy with no resistance. You’d been ready for hours, practically dripping for him the second he first laid his hands on you. Your breath catches when he curls it, curious and searching, his lips twisting into a smug grin when your back suddenly arches, a startled cry falling from your lips.

“There we go.” And then he’s pressing soft kisses along your temple, adding a second finger into the mix and thrusting steadily, grinding his palm along your clit as he does so.

He drags it out and you hate that you fucking love it.

With the patience of a saint, he works you slowly, more than happy to drag out your pleasure as long as he likes. He holds you close with his spare hand supporting the back of your neck as you arch into him, lips never straying too far from yours as his fingers drive you closer and closer to the edge.

And then he changes something, moves his fingers just the right way, and it hits you out of nowhere.

Slamming into you like a freight train, the blissful torture hits its peak, and then you’re crashing down, nails digging into his arms as your pussy gushes around him and he’s quickly leaning in, swallowing the cry that flies from your lips.

His fingers slow before he gently pulls them out and then your hands are desperately reaching for his face, teeth clashing slightly as your mouths meet harshly.

“Bedroom?” He mutters hoarsely, throbbing in his jeans and aching to spread you out somewhere more comfortable, to see and feel more of you properly.

It takes a moment for your mind to catch up and register what he says, but when it does, you’re slipping off the table onto unsteady feet and grabbing his hand, stumbling in your haste to get to your room. He works the dress from your body on the way, hands eagerly spreading across the newly bared skin as you spin in his arms, meeting his lips as he backs you to the bed.

“My turn?” You question sweetly against his mouth, hands trailing lightly over the bulge digging into you before landing on his belt, fingers making quick work of the buckle.

He grins, stilling your hands. “Not even close—get on the bed.”

As soon as your ass meets the bedding, he’s on his knees in front of you, warm hands smoothing up along the soft skin of your legs and gently spreading your thighs. You brush a stray curl from his forehead softly as you recline onto your elbow, fingers gently trailing along the side of his face as he smiles at you, turning to kiss your palm softly before his hands are greedily grabbing at your panties and pulling them down your legs.

There’s no working up to it this time… no patience, no soft strokes.

Frankie dives in like a man starved, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he spreads your legs and licks a long, wide strip along your pussy. You feel him groan against you, your hips squirming on the bed as he tries to pull you closer against his mouth, tongue probing at your pussy and hungrily lapping up the mess he had made of you on the table.

Your hand moves to wind into his soft hair, whimpers falling from your mouth as his facial hair tickles at your thighs and tongue rubs relentless strokes over your clit.

Body still strung out and sensitive from the orgasm he had all but ripped from you before, it doesn’t take long for the gentle strokes of his tongue to build another, your stomach clenching as he tightens his hands, feeling the unsteady shake of your legs in his hold.

You dance precariously on the edge, stomach clenching in anticipation. “Frankie, I—fuck—I’m—”

His mouth works you faster, “Fuck, please—”

You shatter at his softly spoken plea, back arching and hand tightening into a fist as you tug harshly at his hair, crying out and drowning the sound of his own groan as you flood his mouth. He takes everything you give him, tongue diving to push into your pussy as you ride out and come down from your high. He pulls off of you with a small pant, licking his lips and brushing his chin with the back of his hand.

You make a small noise of contentment, “Thank you.”

He chuckles quietly, grinning at the look of blissed out mortification that washes your face following your words as he climbs over you. “You’re welcome.”

You grind your hips against his when he presses into you, hissing when your sensitive clit rubs against the rough denim, but your message gets across loud and clear, Frankie’s eyes darkening as he moves in to kiss you slowly. He breaks away for a brief moment to kick his jeans off, and then he’s covering you again, warm body pressing you into the mattress.

“I have a—”

You make a noise of refusal, hands reaching around to grab at his back to keep him on top of you. “Wanna feel you… ‘m safe—”

He can’t help the small groan that falls from his lips, nodding as he dives in for another kiss. “Me too—”

You whimper when he shifts his hips, slotting further between your thighs. He slides the head of his cock between your slick folds, slowly rocking back and forth across your clit and your chest heaves in anticipation, eyes falling shut when you feel him start to slowly slide into you. Fucking finally—

He fills you slowly, cock rubbing deliciously against your walls and you arch into him when he finally bottoms out, his face falling to rest in the curve of your shoulder. He shudders under your hands when he pulls out, thrusting softly into you and cursing quietly when your pussy flutters around him.

You whine, “Fuck. You feel so—”

He doesn’t give you a chance to finish. He starts moving, hips moving back before slamming forward again and again, the breath escaping your lungs as he moves to rest on his forearms, lips seeking yours for one more bruising taste of your mouth before he pulls completely away. A hand grabs your thigh, hitching it high around his waist and groaning quietly when he hits deeper on the next push.

You’re lost in a hazy sea of pleasure as he starts to move, frantic in his thrusts, the incoherent mumbling falling from your lips driving him to push harder. You have to smother your mouth with your hand to stifle your scream when he grabs your head board, using it as leverage as his hips start to ram harshly into yours.

He knocks the hand away from your mouth, eyes fierce, “I want to hear you.”

“Fuck—”

A thumb starts rubbing at your clit and you sob from the overstimulation, the burn of it sending shocks throughout your body as your body tenses beneath him, fighting the overwhelming sense of it being too fucking much while clinging to the heat of climax quickly building in your core.

“Come on—”

Your body responds to his words immediately. You’re not even sure what sounds comes out of your mouth when your body completely shatters from the inside out, stars blinding you as your pussy clamps down around him. His hips stutter and then he’s quickly pulling out and away from you, fisting his cock with a quiet groan until his cum is painting your pussy, covering your clit and sliding down your slick folds, mixing with your cum leaking from your entrance.

He all but collapses on top of you, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You’re too tired to open your eyes and watch him as he moves away, bed dipping as he stands and disappears.

A wet warmth covers your thoroughly wrecked pussy, and you blearily blink your eyes open to watch him softly clean you with a face cloth, smiling lazily at him when he glances up at you softly. He throws it into the laundry basket by the door and climbs up next to you, gently manoeuvring your tired body under the sheets before wrapping around you.

You blindly reach for his hand, interlocking your fingers as your body slowly calms and melts into the mattress and into the body radiating warmth behind you. The last thing you feel are soft lips pressing against your temple, a hushed goodnight ringing in your ears.

-

Soft fingers tracing down along your nose drags you gently from sleep the next morning. The smile that stretches your lips is automatic as your eyes focus on Frankie, dressed in his clothes from yesterday and perched on the bed next to you.

“I have to go.” He mutters, eyes soft and apologetic as the backs of his fingers brush lightly over your cheek.

“Oh,” you try not to let the disappointment flood your tone, but your face doesn’t get the message as it falls into a pout.

“I know—I’m sorry.” He smiles, fingers still caressing the skin across your face. Your chest tightens the longer he gazes softly at you, something shining deep in his eyes that makes your heart race. “Can I take you out for dinner sometime in the week?”

Delight radiates from your chest as you smile, nodding eagerly. “That would be nice.”

“Last night was…” he trails off, unable to find the words to describe what he felt about the evening before, and a flush of pink grows along his cheeks, his stomach flipping as your moans echo in his ears.

How the fuck is he meant to go about his day and run errands when the picture of you spread out beneath him and crying out his name as you cum keeps playing over and over in his mind like a fucking prime time movie?

“Incredible.” You provide softly, blinking shyly up at him as he grins.

“Incredible.” He agrees just as quietly, feeling like a complete idiot with how hard he was smiling. What was it Benny said the other day? Whipped.

You hold your breath when he leans down, nose scrunching slightly when his moustache tickles your upper lip, his mouth moving unhurriedly as his tongue slides against yours and quickly turning your brain to complete mush. You hum as he moves away, nose brushing softly against yours.

“Are you sure you have to go? You can’t stay for just a few more minutes?” You breathe against his lips, heat spreading across your skin as his eyes darken and slowly lower to where the sheets only just cover your breasts. He groans quietly, flicking a hand out to check his watch and brows pinching as he studies the face of it.

“A few minutes,” he finally decides, hand ripping the sheet away and lips curling up as you yelp in surprise.

He spreads your legs with firm hands, shuffling onto his stomach as he flings your thighs over his shoulders. You sit up onto your elbows, laughing quietly.

“This wasn’t what I had in—oh.”

Fuck—

His finger’s part you gently before his tongue is softly moving over your clit in wide, lazy strokes, and you fall back onto the bed with a whimper, unable to resist grinding against his mouth. Your hand blindly reaches down and soon warm fingers are interlacing with yours, his thumb rubbing across your skin as his lips wrap around your clit.

Fire erupts in your core, electric heat spreading throughout your body as he steadily works his mouth against you, nose brushing your clit as his tongue dives into your pussy, his groan muffled as your taste floods his mouth.

“Fuck Frankie, so good—”

His movements turn frenzied, face pressing up harder against you as his tongue swirls sloppily around your clit, the sounds filling the room obscene as he hungrily laps and sucks at your pussy. All you can do is hold on, the hand intertwined with his tightening as your other flies to his ruffled curls, tugging sharply.

Holy shit, just like that—

You struggle to fill your lungs, struggle to feel anything other than his mouth and how it works savagely against you, pushing you higher and higher until you’re right fucking there—

He feels your legs tense, and anchors himself to you with an arm across your hips, groaning when you cry out and gush around his mouth, coating his tongue and chin.

His mouth is still on you when the wave of bliss dissolves into a dull tingle, hurried movements now languid as his tongue smooths through your folds, his head resting against your inner thigh. You watch him through tired eyes, hand gently brushing his hair from his forehead as his eyes close at the soft caress, tongue curling one more lazy swirl over your pussy before he presses a light kiss to your clit and sits up.

“Now I really have to go.”

-

“Where the fuck have you been?!” Benny yells across the café, ignoring the heads that turn to frown at him. Frankie rolls his eyes, hand running through his hair as he quickly advances to the small group and slides into the booth.

“Sorry—truck wouldn’t start.”

“Mhm.” Santiago hums lowly, hiding a grin behind his cup as he sips his coffee, eyeing Frankie with a critical eye. “What was wrong with it?”

“What?”

Benny crosses his arms on the table and leans forward, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Your truck—what was wrong with it?”

Frankie shrugs, eyes falling to browse the menu in front of him. “Battery.”

Now fucking drop it.

Pope raises a brow, “Was it flat?”

Fucking Pope—

“Sure.”

Will snorts across the table, grinning wryly as Frankie glares at him. “’Sure’? It was either flat or it wasn’t.”

Fucking Miller—

“Look—I’m here now, let’s just eat so I can go and get Mena.”

The table goes quiet and Frankie sighs in relief, his eyes falling back to his menu. It stays quiet for so long that Frankie actually starts to think the subject has been dropped.

He should’ve known better.

“Fish got laid.” Benny coos softly, Pope and Will snickering behind their menus as Frankie sighs deeply, lips twitching as he fights the grin spreading from their teasing.

-

Rain softly pelts the roof of the truck as you giggle against Frankie’s lips, his dark gaze softening as you smile up at him. You brush a hand softly across his cheek, pressing another zealous kiss to his lips which he returns eagerly, hand smoothing along your thigh and pushing under your skirt to squeeze your thigh, grinning when you whimper into his mouth.

You had said goodbye a few times already, each time ending the same way—lips locked in a bruising, passionate frenzy, neither of you quite ready to let the night come to a close. You break away with a sigh, head tilting as his mouth trails greedily along your throat, tongue soothing the sudden sting away as he nips at your skin.

“I wish you could come up.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. He shouldn’t be—it’s not like he didn’t want to. He had a toddler to get home to. You understood, of course, but it didn’t make the goodbye any easier.

“It’s okay.” You smile at him, his chest tightening as you do.

“You could...” he trails off, chewing his cheek in thought as he looks out of the windshield before turning to you, eyes showing the nervous uncertainty that had flooded him. “You could come back to mine, if—if you want to.”

You blink, pulling away to look up at him searchingly. “What about Mena?”

Would he want you out before dawn or something? Sneak out of the house like you were teenagers or some sort of one night stand? You know he meant no harm by it, but the thought of having to grab your clothes and disappear in the middle of the night had you feeling a little insulted.

“I don’t mind you staying... if you want to meet her. You don’t have to, I was just... I don’t know. I’m just saying it’s—it’s on the table, if that’s something you’d be interested in.” His hands rub along his jeans, wiping the nervous sheen of sweat that had gathered on his palms.

You’re quiet, letting his words soak in and thinking over it seriously. You had no kids, obviously, and no friends that had kids, either, but... wasn’t it a little early for something like this? Although, she was still young—it’s not like she’d know any different.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said anything. I know it’s early—”

“Can you wait while I pack a bag?”

His heart speeds up as he nods. Shit—was he nodding too fast? He returns your grin as you quickly hop from the truck and rush through the light rain and into your building, disappearing from his view as the door slams behind you.

Did he do the dishes? Fuck—he left his folded laundry on his bed. Why didn’t he just put it away earlier?

It’s fine. It’s fine. Maybe he could fake going to the bathroom and just throw them into his cupboard before you saw anything. Yeah—that’ll work. It’s fine.

You reappear sooner than he expected, a small overnight bag slung over your shoulder and he can’t help the elation that floods his face, grin making his cheeks ache as he quickly leans over the seat and shoves the door open for you. His hand doesn’t leave your thigh the entire way to his place, your fingers drawing random patterns on the back of it as you listen to him sing softly to the music playing from the speaker.

The first thing you notice when he pulls into his driveway is how perfect his house seems to fit him, and he chuckles when you tell him as much. You stay wrapped into his side as he holds his jacket over your head to keep you from getting too wet, quickly ushering you up and onto his porch just in time as the rain comes down heavier.

He ushers you in when he finally gets the door open, and your giggling stops short at the amused gaze you get from the dark-haired man shrugging his jacket on in the entryway.

You wave politely, feeling like an idiot, standing close to the door as Frankie steps in behind you. “Hi,”

The man fixes his jacket on his shoulders, his dark knowing eyes sliding from you to Frankie as a sly grin starts to work its way onto his face.

“Hi. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He replies, grin widening as Frankie comes to stand next to you, nervously fiddling with his keys.

How the fuck did he completely forget about Pope? Jesus Christ—

Santiago reads the message rolling through his friend’s eyes—a big fat ‘get the fuck out now’, but instead of heeding the unspoken warning and disappearing, he leans his hip on the back of the couch, thoroughly enjoying the twist of Frankie’s features as he makes himself comfortable.

He holds a hand out, “I’m Santiago—the good looking one of the group.”

Frankie rolls his eyes as you give your name in return and shake the outstretched hand, turning to throw his keys in the bowl sitting on the table next to the door, and hissing a quiet insult under his breath.

“That’s debatable,” is your immediate reply, your eyes shooting to land appreciatively on Frankie with a smile, watching the angry flush of pink rise along the skin of his throat as he grins back at you.

Pope watches quietly, eyes flickering between the both of you before he chuckles. “You guys are cute. You need a rubber, Fish? Whoa—hey—okay, I’m going—”

You bite your lip to stifle the laugh bubbling in your chest, watching Frankie immediately wrangle Santiago under his arm and all but shove him out the door. Pope throws you a wave over his shoulder, grinning as he mutters something you didn’t catch in Spanish that had Frankie straightening up and growling a retort.

Your eyes roam around the room as the two men bicker behind you, taking in the comforting warmth that oozes from the space.

You step forward to wander the lounge quietly, smiling as you study the many pictures hung perfectly square on the walls. Your eyes find the familiar faces of Benny and Will in a few of them, along with Santiago and another taller man.

You pause on one, heart fluttering and chest tightening as you study Frankie, darks eyes locked on the blanketed bundle in his arms. The one next to it is newer, more recent—a bright eyed little toddler perched on his hip as they both grin at the camera, colourful streamers hanging above them and a giant ‘1’ balloon in the background.

Fatherhood suited him. He was glowing.

The sound of the door closing has your attention returning to him, eyes fond as you watch him start making his way to you.

“She’s a mini-you.”

He grins, looking at the photo of him and Mena, and nodding. “I know—poor thing.”

He laughs when you slap his chest lightly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before leading you further into his home. “Would you like anything?”

“I won’t say no to another kiss, and maybe something else.”

He turns on his heel instantly, brow rising as he winds an arm around your waist and dips you slightly back with a curious ‘oh?’. You grab at his arms, giggling as you clutch his sleeves, “Frankie!”

He chuckles deeply, lips pressing softly against yours. You sigh at the feel of them, your hand cupping his cheek as his tongue slides out to meet yours, his hand grabbing a greedy handful of your ass and bringing your hips flush against his. You’re both completely oblivious to the door reopening behind you.

“I forgot my phone—don’t mind me.”

“Pope—” Frankie barks, frowning over your head as Santiago jogs to the couch and holds his phone up, wiggling it in his hold.

“What? I’m not looking.”

Santiago disappears, the door clicking softly behind him and you grin, kissing the corner of Frankie’s lips as he eyes the door, half expecting Pope to come waltzing right back in with some other bullshit excuse.

“Frankie…”

His dark eyes meet yours instantly, his stomach flipping at the mischievous shine in your gaze.

“There is something I’d really like.” You continue quietly, straightening up and slowly pushing him back towards his couch.

He’s putty in your hands, wide eyes blinking at you in awe as you run your tongue along your lip. He drops onto the couch with a small exhale when you push him, heart thundering in his ears as you drop to your knees in front of him.

“Can I?” You reach for his belt, fingers running along the cool metal of the buckle.

Fuck. You’re so pretty.

He must’ve spoken aloud because a shy smile curls your lips, eyes briefly falling before flickering back up at him from beneath your lashes. Your fingers move when he gives a shaky nod of consent, quickly working the belt open and diving for the button of his jeans.

Wait—

“Hold on a second?” He stands, carefully stepping around you and walking to his door, locking every latch and bolting the deadlock securely before turning and making his way back to you. “I don’t need Pope interrupting this.” He mutters in quiet explanation, lips twitching at your chuckle.

He settles himself back in front of you, inhaling deeply when your fingers work his jeans open and pull them down his legs. He’s already half hard, the mere idea of your mouth going anywhere near his cock enough to stir a hunger deep in his belly.

“You didn’t let me have a turn when you stayed over.” You accuse quietly, hand wrapping around him and giving a slow tug, working him softly until he was fully hard and pulsing in your hand.

“’m sorry,” he mutters, tongue running his lower lip as you continue to work him gently, his hips squirming under your ministrations.

“I think about this all the time.” You admit, eyes watching his cock throb in your grasp. “How you’d feel, how you’d taste.”

Holy shit—you did?

He makes a quiet noise when your thumb brushes over the head of his cock, collecting the small drop of precum that beads there and smoothing it along his skin. You watch it glisten, pussy clenching as it smears silkily under your thumb.

“Can I taste you, Frankie?”

He’s nodding before you even finish.

The wet heat of your mouth envelopes his cock and he exhales sharply, hands flying to grab at the cushion beneath him. He can’t help but buck into your mouth when your tongue slides along his slit, collecting the precum you had spread there, before running it along the underside of his cock.

You moan at the salty taste of him on your tongue, hands finding purchase on his thighs as you push yourself to take him deeper, fighting the resistance at the back of your mouth and taking him down your throat, holding steady as he curses above you.

Pulling back, you inhale sharply before starting to bob your head, lips wrapping tightly around his cock and sucking lightly as your hand moves to pump what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, so perfect—”

Your panties feel slick as your thighs rub together, your arousal soaking the fabric as Frankie moans quietly, head dropping to fall back against the couch in bliss. You run your free hand under your skirt, whimpering when your fingers press against your clit through the lace and start to rub little circles in time with the movement of your head.

You take him deeper, saliva pooling and spilling from your mouth as you gag around him, your pussy aching with the need to have something, anything, filling it. You hear nothing but Frankie; nothing but the small whimpers and whines that fall from his lips, and your fingers slip into your panties, swiping along your slit before thrusting them into your pussy, your moan muffled as you take him down your throat again.

His eyes fall to the hand disappearing under your skirt, your hips moving in time to whatever the fuck your fingers are doing and his stomach tightens.

“Fuck. Are you—” his eyes flicker up from your hips to watch your brows pinch together in pleasure and then he’s fucking done for; the thought of you getting yourself off while sucking his cock completely tearing him to pieces.  He groans loudly, cock throbbing and twitching as cum spurts from his tip and floods your eager mouth.

His hot release hits your tongue and back of your throat, and paired with the incoherent praises spilling from his mouth, it triggers your own body shattering climax. You choke out a moan from around him as your walls tighten around your fingers, his cum overflowing and spilling from your lips as you struggle with the fullness of him down your throat.

You slip your fingers out from your fluttering pussy and sit back on your heels with a heaving gasp once his cock starts to soften in your mouth, tongue messily lapping at the cum that spilt over your skin.

He dives forward eagerly, lips wrapping around your fingers and groaning as your familiar taste floods his tongue. He soon moves to your mouth, tongue catching the drop of his cum from your chin before he’s pushing it into your mouth, groaning when your tongue eagerly swipes along his.

Your kisses soon turn tender, gazes gentle as you part from each other.

Something’s happening—you can feel it in your chest. A feeling tugs at your heart, soft and insistent. It grows when he smiles, radiates warmth when his hands take yours as he helps you from the floor. You briefly wonder what it could be before shaking the thought from your head, devoting your attention back to Frankie as he walks you through the house to his bedroom.

+

Tags: @anu-simps​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​ @withasideofmeg​ @you-got-me-starry-eyed​ @mouthymandalorianalso​ @frannyzooey​ @wyn-dixie​ @intu-witch-tion​ @amneris21​ @mad-girl-without-a-box​ @pinguinstudiert​ @sergeantbannerbarnes​ @betterthanbucky​ @emilykjh​ @peterhollandkait​ @sara-alonso​ @starlightsearches​ @bookishofalder​ @empress-palpat1ne​ @shadowolf993​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​ @canyonmirrors​ @eoz-stuff​ @blackonemasie​ @layniapetrovnaaa​ @alberta-sunrise​ @goldielocks2004​ @linkpk88​ @afootnoteinyourhappiness​ @livilottie​ @hailmaryyramliah​ @kesskirata​ @blueeyesatnight​ @a-perfct-stranger​ @melaniermblt​ @dragcn-queen​ @gracie7209​ @mrsparknuts​ @janebby​

[rumblelibrary]

Hello,

Can you do a zemo or Laszlo x reader where he is helping the reader get away from an abusive boyfriend?

Also happy (late) birthday!!! 🎁 🎉💐

Acceptance [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Reader]

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: mention of abuse

A/N: I had to do Laszlo, mostly because I feel like Zemo's way with you in an abusive relationship would be like: consoling you while accidentally getting your ex murdered.

Laszlo was quietly dictating to you while you typed quickly onto your typewriter. You were his private secretary and you helped him with correspondence and noting down ideas and reflections during his sessions or while he planned a new article or book.

You loved your job, you learned so much and your vision of the world broadened widely since you met with the alienist.

Somebody that wasn't happy with this arrangement was your fiancé. Your engagement was going on from few months but he courted you a lot before, your father adored him because of his military background and your mother would have prepared you to move into his house in a second just because of his last name.

You weren't deeply in love with him from the beginning but at least he gave you the feeling that you could earn some happiness, some kinship maybe with time.

But then the twist of fate, your friend Sara found you this job opportunity at the Institute and you begun enlarging your circle of friends and then Dr Kreizler taught you a lot about human mind, about what is instinct and what is feeling, about how some ideas that they put in your mind were just the easy way out to complex questions about women’s bodes or human mind.

He trusted you and you trusted him.

You fiancé seemed unsettled by the situation and often gave out remarks on how Kreizler kept you out at ungodly hours and it wasn’t respectable for your name and how you should be more careful. You found Dr Kreizler an handsome and interesting man from the moment you shared the first courtesies, so you didn't feel like getting mad at your boyfriend since you had a little pin of guilt in you, even if in reality nothing ever happened beside a very good friendship, but in such times even that could be seen as too much and you, being you, knew perfectly how your mind travelled discreetly toward the handsome doctor.

The situation with your partner started quickly deteriorating, your family admired him so much and saw him as the perfect candidate for you that they didn't even consider something could be going wrong. When you slowly begun to put together how he talked to you, the words he used to address you started striking in, from remarks to proper insults until they felt like a judgment given from above to you. You talked about it with your parents but they justified him. He probably meant it to 'wake you up'. You're too sensitive. He is a hard man, he probably means it in the best way and you're overreacting.

When words became actions, you didn't know who could you talk to so you kept quiet.

Under the heavy cloths of the victorian Era your shameful secret was guarded, the tickling clock toward your wedding day felt more and more like being condemned to life sentence in prison.

"Damn"

You hissed as you typed the last sentence wrong and you had to do it all over again.

"Y/N" Laszlo said as he leaned his head on side, cursing from you was rare if not completely unexpected.

"I apologise doctor, we can keep going and I will adjust it alone, I don't want to rob you of your time"

It was a tendency that you took up lately to be a bit too much apologetic. You apologised for everything, he almost expected you to be apologising for breathing. Which wasn't healthy but he promised himself not to be his usual alienist self with you and start analysing every change.

But he hated to see you like this, you were disappearing for some reason. You brought sunshine in the Institute and in his office, you decorated your desk with your favourite items and colours and he missed to see them, to see you express yourself, your smile, your questions always giving him the chance to rethink, to revise theories he gave as granted.

"Come, stand up" Laszlo said as you looked up at him surprised but he was already walking away so you had to follow up.

He guided you out of the office and up over the stairs, you climbed more and more behind him huffing because of the clothing giving you little space for movement until you arrived to an heavy door that Dr Kreizler opened with a key he kept in his pocket alongside with others.

Little it took you to understand you were on the roof of the Institute, the cold breeze hitting on you as he held the door open for you and you came out with him. It wasn't too cold, the sun was still up in the late afternoon.

"I hoped you'd like to talk to me here, I lock this place because kids would come here and it is not too safe, but i often come up here to reflect"

You nodded slowly as you stared at the buildings and then at him again.

"I am fine"

He stared at you as he leaned his head on side as he leaned over the edge of the roof in a relaxed sitting position, the wind blowing lightly his perfectly combed hair "Take your time"

"Dr Kreizler, I really don't"

"We agreed about you calling me Laszlo, did I do anything to have you taking this privilege away?"

You stared at him, breath clung into your chest.

"No, it is not that, it is, well, it is not easy with my fiancé, I mean to have me working for a man and call you by your first name is not, well, appropriate”

He stared at you as he could tell it was a truth, but it wasn't enough.

"Did he want to call off the engagement? I can talk to him, reassure him that nothing happened and of my integrity toward you and the absolute respect you ever had toward your profession"

He said as you bit the inside of your cheek, but you tried to hide it.

"I think it is not needed"

"So it wouldn't be enough for him, that's what you mean?"

You almost chocked on air because it was true, it was an hazard he did from that comment but the result made it worth it.

"Y/N" he said taking a deep breath in and moving closer to you “I am not here to tell you how to live your life, I am nobody’s counsellor about right choices”

You looked up as he was so close to you and he was staring directly to you.

“Don’t take this as me talking to you as an alienist or your chief, but as a friend who is deeply concerned about your current state”

He took a brief pause and the fact you were too afraid by that closeness to reply, it just showed how much there was underneath the surface.

“Nothing can’t be undone, not even an engagement” he finally said “It is some time that you’re not only distant and that’s since that ring appeared on your finger, but you’re also deeply sad and I am afraid to ask what is going on with your left shoulder to make you always wince when you lift even a pen”

You bit on your bottom lip as you trembled on the spot biting so hard, almost to the bleeding point until he pushed gently his hand to touch your jaw making you undo that silly torture onto yourself, the lump that you kept for month in your throat finally ready to be set free as you let to a sob of pure pain.

“I-I..”

He looked at you and smiled warmly, welcoming

“..I am so scared”

He leaned his hand on your back gently pulling you into a hug as you begun to cry like one of the kids in the Institute.

A cry made of heavy tears of fear, of loud uncontrollable sobs and your hands clasped over his jacket like for a dear of life.

“It is okay, I am here, you can stay here for the night and we will make everything alright”

His voice calm, warm like the home you daydreamed when imagined to have a family yourself.

“Doctor, I swear I am not lying”

“I know Y/N, I know, I believe you” he said as he gently held you resting his hand on your back, gently caressing you into warm circles “You are being so courageous to do this first step, no fear now, I won’t let you live another day like this”

“But”

“I told you” he murmured looking down at you “I believe you”

You nodded as you finally accepted it, he could really help you, even if you said barely anything he saw it, he saw your pain and your pain could have been caused by a needle, an angry cat or an abusive man.

It didn’t matter, your pain was now his, and he won’t let you live with it any time soon.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved@fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44@apparrio @hb8301@whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl@obsidianlaszlo@alindeluce@zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling

Let me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3

[godwrecks]

𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝗦𝘂𝗻𝗮

𝗣𝘁. 𝟮 - 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗪𝗮𝗻𝘁

word count: 4.1k

tags; college au. angst. confession. fwb. drugs. fluff if you squint.

The first thing you registered was the light buzzing - no, vibrating of Suna’s phone. Much too dazed by your sleep, you didn’t wonder who was blowing up his messages this late at night. Raising up the sheets to shield your naked body from the cold, you tried to get some sleep, but Suna’s incessant tossing kept you from doing so.

You finally turned to him, eyes squinting at his illuminated face. “Why the fuck is your screen so bright?” You groaned and nuzzled into his chest, wrapping an arm around his bare torso. He merely chuckled, quickly putting away the phone.

“Why so cranky, you just woke up,” despite speaking in hushed sentences, his voice still dripped with mocking. Suna placed his hand on your hip, and though it remained in its station for a few seconds, he soon started trailing his fingers along your waistline.

“Can you even call it waking up? I didn’t sleep at all,” he cocked his head at that, bringing you in closer to him. “I guess I’m at fault for that.”

You smiled quietly, clearing your head as much as possible to get a wink of sleep, though you knew he’d be up and going soon. It had been a few weeks since the...incident, if that’s what you could call it. Nothing changed, really, for better or for worse. Sometimes he was more careful around you, but your relationship was only good for sex. That’s what you had to remind yourself, right? But everything remaining the same was what bugged you. You knew better than to demand more because this was never meant to go past fuck buddies. And while he started coming to you slightly less high, sometimes even seemingly sober, you knew better than to get your hopes up.

With your head like this on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat. Steady. Steady, while yours seemed to always mess up and skip around him. And yet with the slow rhythm of his heart, of his breathing, you surrendered to sleep.

When you woke up again, the sunlight was already rudely peeping past your curtains, and the other side of the bed was empty. Still adjusting to the light, you looked around the room slowly, filled with a strange relief when you found Suna dressing up.

“Practice?” You rubbed your eyes carefully, putting on a hoodie and wobbling when you stood up to reach him. He smiled arrogantly as he ran a hand through his hair, proud of the mess he made of you.

“Yeah. I gotta stop to get something on the way, so I’m heading out now.” His voice was still raspy from sleeping, some of his locks awkwardly falling over his eyes.

Though you wanted to smile at the sight, you knew he was talking about his plug and picking up shit from him. It wasn’t that you judged him for smoking - if that had been your preference, you would’ve known better than to get involved. You and Suna started out as friends, and you had been good friends for a long time at that. Some of the boys on the team always smoked together, and you almost always happened to be there with a few other girls, sometimes even taking a hit you’d be offered. Some of those girls were flings you’d never see again, others were girlfriends. But you were just a friend at the time, not thinking much of the tall and laid-back middle blocker.

“Will you be there tonight? For the party, I mean,” he spoke casually, sitting down on sheets that now smelled like him. “I’m not too sure. I have an assignment due, and I have to be up early tomorrow,” he nodded from his place, tying his boots. You hadn’t been going to many parties lately. The semester nearly ending meant your workload was accumulating, which also meant seeing Suna less. It was at parties and gatherings that you really got to see him, anyway - he was always busy with volleyball and zooted out of his mind most nights he was free. Your thoughts were abruptly cut when you felt his lips press against your forehead, finding an apologetic smile when you looked up.

“You’re starting to bore me,” he joked, but it still made your smile falter. You wanted to give yourself a good slap; since when had you become such a crybaby?

“I’m gonna go now, don’t miss me too much,” Suna stood in the door, offering a charming wink.

“Bye, loser,” you smiled back before shutting the door right in his face.

You had tuned into your laptop to absorb every piece of information from the lecture, or at least try to, as you sat in the library. A quick glance at the clock told you it was nearly midnight. Surprisingly, the library was open all night for students to study - go figure, maybe they guessed most procrastinate until the night thereof. You were taking a few sips from your drink when your phone lit up for an incoming call.

“Rin?” You spoke quietly, not bothering to decipher what the background noise was on his end.

“Baby! You picked up,” his voice was lighter than usual, a mixture of sweetness and relaxation. Suna was the type to become touchy when he was intoxicated, whether by alcohol or drugs. His hands wandered everywhere and he became extremely affectionate, even cuddly, though it was mostly him grabbing your ass. You had only ever seen it for yourself; it was what he did when you were around, and you didn’t have the heart to ask what he did, or who he did it with, when you were absent.

“What’s up?” You let out a sigh as you leaned back in your chair, fingers toying with the straw of your cup.

“I wanna see you,” he spoke and you guessed he had walked out of whatever room he was in.

“I’m studying right now. I told you, remember?”

“Mm, yeah, yeah, you did,” Suna grumbled before a sharp noise echoed through the line, followed by a curse.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just knocked some shit over. Anyways, come on, just take a break.” You took in a sharp breath, wanting to knock your head against the wall. You knew when to say no, but when it came to him that never meant it was easy.

“I really can’t, Rin. If you just want a girl all over you, call someone else,” you flinched at your own tone, stupefied by the coldness of it.

Whilst you were pondering the source of your sudden anger, Suna was chuckling, probably shaking his head. “Hey, hey, where’s that coming from?”

“Well, I’m just giving you a disclaimer. I’d love to be there, but my grade for this class is desperately crying for help,” you laughed, hoping to cover up whatever that had been.

“So what? I just call someone else?”

“If that’s what you want right now,” you frowned, a detestable panic rushing through you. It was so stupid to even suggest so in the first place, what were you hoping to accomplish? Maybe you just wanted to check for yourself what happened when you weren’t there to satisfy him.

“Unfair, much?” He sighed, and you wished you were facing him right now, if only to catch a glimpse of what goes through his mind.

“How?” You ventured with a gulp, heart pounding against its cage.

“You’re the only girl who doesn’t sober me up,” your stomach twisted onto itself at the smirk on his voice. You felt sick yet couldn’t point down the reason why - there were several. You being foolish enough to even think of this fact as a confession, him only calling you because he just wanted his high to last. Was he using you? The thought raced through your mind, along with a few scenes of you laying next to him.

“Hey,” he blurted out seriously. Between you only remained the loudest silence you had heard.

“Hey,” you were utterly breathless, struggling for air as your lungs closed up and rebelled against your will. You wondered if this was truly so shocking. While you were in the back of his hair, this fear was always forced to the back of your mind. You had knowingly mistaken every moment for more than it was.

“Are you o-”

“I need to go, actually. I’m still at the library, so I should head home. Have fun, yeah?”

Before he could even reply, you ended the call, gripping your phone so tightly that your knuckles went white.

The ride to your apartment was loathsome, to say the least. Not even the loud music could keep you away from your thoughts long enough. You turned the engine off and made your way to the elevator. In the process of searching through your backpack, your phone almost slipped from your hands when you jumped in surprise, startled at the arm sticking through the closing doors.

Your heart dropped when they opened up to reveal a panting Suna staring right through you.

“Rin, what are you doing here?” You stammered when he pressed the button to your floor, nearing your figure.

“I came here to see you,” he was still slightly out of breath, eyes scanning you as if they were searching for something. Had he run for so long?

You took a look at your handwatch and cringed. It was late, but not late enough for him to come knock at your door.

“Thought you’d be busy until later,” you replied dryly, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Yeah, well, change of plans.” His sleazy eyes never left you, and you regretted not taking the stairs.

“I’m sorry I made you come all the way here, but you should go-” You stared at the hand wrapped around your wrist that pulled you closer until you stumbled forward.

“Don’t do that.”

You chuckled viciously, a sound that bruised him. “Sorry I’m not really in the mood to have sex right now.”

“You know that’s not what I’m here for.” Suna started to be visibly frustrated, or at least you thought so by the strength with which he was gripping the pole behind you.

“Then why are you here? That’s all we’ve ever done, Suna,” the name rolled off your tongue awkwardly, and as distasteful as it was for you, his flinch made it clear that he disliked it even more. The elevator doors opened and you walked out, straight to your apartment with the hopes that he’d stay behind.

“Oh, so now we’re back to the last-name basis?” You felt him right behind you, his heavy breathing audible.

“I’m sorry, okay?” You half-assed the apology as you struggled with your keys, the slight shake in your hands slowing you down.

After stepping inside, you turned just in time to see his shake head.

“Why are you being like this all of a sudden?”

Your eyes rolled back at his indifference. How could he be so dense? Was he feigning innocence like this was a game to the both of you? It may have been for him, but not for you.

“I don’t know!” A step towards him and you were already too close. You felt claustrophobic from the way he hovered above you. “Maybe because I feel fucking stupid? I know there’s nothing between us, I’m well aware,” the laugh that formed in your throat was bitter, yet it didn’t compare to the tightening of your chest. “But this just isn’t what I want anymore.”

Suna looked at you as if you had gone insane, unaware of the slight craze in his amber eyes. “What do you want?” He grabbed onto the door, stepping forward until he had cleared his way inside.

“Not this, not whatever you want out of me.”

The grin on his face, unlike his usual striking ones, branded an emotion he had never worn before. “Which is?”

“Making you cum while you’re high, apparently,” you sneered back, tearing his hand away from the door.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” Suna gritted through his teeth, slamming the door shut. You groaned, debating how hard you would have to smack his head with your backpack to give him a concussion.

“Oh, am I? You said so yourself.”

“You’re twisting my words,” he pointed his finger at you accusingly, fuming with every breath.

“How so?” This time you didn’t back off. Instead, you hit his chest, resisting the urge to claw at it so he’d at least keep a distance. “If you care to explain, go right ahead!”

“I never said that’s all I want,” his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to keep calm, which was turning out difficult for the both of you.

“Right, because only seeing you after you've smoked wasn’t enough of a message. I don’t even see you throughout the day!”

“How is that only my fault? You never told me you wanted something else, and you were as happy to fuck as I was whenever I knocked on your door.” You could only scoff at his words, amazed he could even dare to try and blame you.

“You know damn well this isn’t on me. I'm not the unavailable one, I'm not the one that's always gone until it's convenient. I'm not the one who barges in and acts like they own me, or did you forget about that already?” You had begun to scream out without realizing, but the rage you felt burning through the cracks of your heart was urging to be released.

Suna stood there quietly, staring at you with distant eyes, like he was too busy making sense of his own thoughts to even mind yours. When the clock ticked away and he had still not spoken a word, you inhaled, bracing yourself.

“Listen, this was nice. And I’d like to stay as a friend, so let’s just leave it at this. If you had plainly admitted that all you ever wanted was sex, I would’be been slightly better now.” The words were calculated and detached as you held onto the sleeves of your cardigan.

“You’re not fucking getting it, it’s not just the sex that I want,” Suna finally mumbled, but your hand was already placed on the knob.

“Well it's all you ever cared to ask for.” You opened the door and stepped away, unable to look anywhere but at the floor.

“When I said I didn't wanna leave you, I didn't mean- I meant…” each word was a separate struggle, and you lacked the strength to bear it any longer.

“What did you mean, Rintaro?” You only offered a tired smile as he stood there once again like a fish out of water. A silent challenge he never took on.

It only took you a few seconds to decide to push him from behind towards the door. You were angry, and heartbroken, and definitely not okay, but something like this was not worth losing him over. Despite everything, he had been a great friend before.

“Have a good night,” and with that, you spelled away the image of the tall brunette you came to adore.

You were still dripping from your long shower, the robe you wore doing little to collect the water before it hit the floor. It was early afternoon, not even 24 hours after the fight, yet it felt like an eternity had passed. You hadn’t heard from Suna at all, and a part of you wondered if you would soon or if he would disappear for a while. Shaking the thoughts away, you walked over to the kitchen to grab a drink when the doorbell rang. You frowned, scrambling your brain for anything your friends had said about coming over, but you were sure none had the plans to visit. The moment you opened the door, the scent of musk and ginger washed over you.

“Please don’t shut the door on me, you seem to have taken a liking to it,” he blabbered out as soon as your eyes met. You hesitated, shifting your weight on your feet.

“What are you doing here?”

“Give me a chance?” You frowned, scanning his face for ulterior motives but all you found was honesty. Despite it, your stomach sank at the sight. Though you didn’t know if you had wanted to see him or not, you wouldn’t have imagined it would be this hard.

“Rin, really, what are you-” You couldn’t finish your sentence, too bewildered to properly speak. Another glance at his face told you he was sober - he even looked more put together than he usually did, though it looked like his volleyball uniform was under his outerwear.

“For someone who was so upset, you should at least give me the opportunity,” he joked tediously, ignoring the dense air that had formed between you two.

His smile was rueful, and genuine from what you could see. “Just...let me do this properly. Dress up and let’s go to my game,” he announced, hints of timidity teetering his voice.

You simply gazed at him, lips forming a thin line. “What are you doing? Just- what are you planning?”

“Nothing!” He swallowed down, raising up the hand that was holding two bags. You raised an eyebrow at it, unamused. “Here, I got you something.”

Receiving it from his cold hands, you looked carefully into it before digging through it. “You’re joking,” you hissed, dangling the pink lingerie in front of his face.

He was smug, toying with you for his pleasure as always. You would have too if you had not been in this situation.

“It was a joke. That’s not...really what,” he quickly delved into the other bag, holding out a small, black box. You surveyed it before cocking your head, taking it from him and opening it. The necklace inside was pretty - beautiful, actually. But you didn’t want his money, you wanted him, which was likely a harder request. “It’s not gifts that I want, Rin,” you sighed, now painfully aware that he would never be something you could predict.

“I know that, angel. But I never treated you, or did something nice for you, and most guys do with, you know,” he trailed off, eyes darting away from your face.

“My problem is you only calling me when you’re high. That issue won’t be solved with gifts,” you massaged your temple, slowly becoming a mess as you tried to put the pieces together and figure out what he was doing.

“I’m not a damn addict, princess. It’s not all I fucking care about,” Suna swore as he leaned against the door frame.

“I know that! I never said you were, but you can’t just go from only giving me that to acting as if you actually want us to be something more. So tell me, how am I supposed to feel?” Though your voice nearly broke, you held onto the door - determined to at least stand your ground. You had been clear with him. You had specified you couldn’t do this anymore, so the least he could do is respect that.

His eyes narrowed for a moment, glimmering ever so briefly that you wondered if the change had been a figment of your imagination. “Listen— I've never,” his chest trembled with a breath before he continued. “I've never been in love with someone, alright? I don’t know how it fucking feels, and that was the last thing I planned on doing. And don’t get me wrong, I was hooked on you from the very beginning. But then suddenly you're the only person I’m attracted to,” Suna’s voice was uncharacteristically weak, threatening to crack at any moment. “And believe me it wasn’t for lack of trying, because while my dick was inside someone else, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to see you. And I didn’t- I don’t know how to process that, all that you fucking make me feel. I don’t even know if I want to process it at all, if I’m being sincere.” His lips lifted into a pained smile that didn’t reach his tormented eyes. “But when you ended that call, you sounded so hurt I panicked. And I don't have a plan, and I'm rambling, and this is probably the most I’ve ever said at once, but if I know something, it’s that I can't let it end here,” his throat bobbed but his steps to you were resolute. You almost turned away when his hands cupped your cheek, spanning the skin delicately.

You couldn’t find your voice for all it was worth. It was hard to tell whether your brain was working faster than your heart.

“You say that, but,” you jerked when you felt a tear trickling down your cheek. Suna’s fingers stuttered undecidedly, but his thumb wiped away the salty trail. “Assuming you truly felt that way, you never acted on it. Actually, you acted very differently,” you hiccuped, biting the inside of your cheek in shame.

“You want me to be honest with you? I feel like such a mess around you, like I might explode. It’s easier to deal with that in certain situations. Hence me restricting our time with each other to me being high,” Suna murmured, shrugging a shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was scared all the good I’d ever do for you is a nice fuck. What if that’s all I get until I mess up? You’ve got it so together and I’m here, not even able to talk about my stupid feelings.”

You gaped at his pale face: the beautiful carving of his features, the slight quavering of his bottom lip, the long eyelashes framing half-mast eyes.

“You mean that?”

He laughed at your simple question, likely expecting more after everything he had let out. You wanted to give him more, but you were unable to, still trapped in your fear that it would all be fake.

“I do. And I’m sure it can’t just be me who feels like this.” With a look at you, he pinched your cheek gently, looking for an answer.

“It’s not just you. Obviously,” you grumbled disapprovingly. It was pretty obvious to you, but he still smiled sweetly, the frenzy in his face slowly fading.

“I’ll probably miserably fail, but I at least wanna try. I wanna do this — with you. So please let me. And if it’s not enough for you even after that, then I won’t waste your time anymore. But give me the chance.” His hands lowered to your jaw and neck while he spoke the words, forcing you into a retreat.

“Rin, do you even know how relationships work?” You scoffed, quirking your eyebrows at the boy.

“Yes. No. In theory?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his response. He really was awfully cute sometimes.

You eyed his waist, reluctantly deciding to wrap your arms around it with a heavy sigh. “I’ll probably regret this and get my heart broken.”

“Hopefully it’s not your heart that gets broken,” Rin quickly added, looking down at your body with a sneaky grin. You glared at him, hiding away the smile on your lips.

“You know we have to like- go on dates. During the day and all?”

He nodded like this was a work interview and he was expecting the question.

“Okay, so get ready. Let’s go to my game,” he signaled over to your room given your bathrobe, but you could only stare at him cautiously.

“I mean it. Come cheer for me,” Rin leaned down to you with the whisper, reaching your eye level. You nodded, rushing to get dressed once he planted a kiss on your cheek.

“You know,” he started off casually, grabbing your hand. “I might’ve cried if you hadn’t come back with me.”

“Oh, really?” You smirked at him, curiosity filling you.

Swiftly noticing your mood shift, he explained. “Well I talked to some friends...for advice, or whatever. So if I had showed back alone, those two jerks would’ve never let me hear the end of it.”

He squeezed your hand as laughter soared through you, your free hand traveling to your abdomen when it began hurting. “Seriously?” You added when you managed to control the laughter, gaining a glare from Suna.

“Seriously.”

When your eyes had returned to the road ahead of you, he lifted your intertwined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of your palm.

“I’ll do this, so just don’t complain anymore okay?”

This was so long??? If you actually read all of it, THANK YOU LMAO. also sorry for the weird spaces sometimes, i like writing in docs so i don’t lose anything aha so it b weird sometimes idky. okay yeah thank you !!

art credit: damnzucoyy on tiktok

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

mr. worst cup

CollegeBarista!Jaemin x Reader

summary: Jaemin messes up your order and in turn messes up any chance at any sort of relationship with you (or so he thinks)

word count: 4.3k

A/N: I really hope you guys like it! 

Taglist! @eggbutnotyolk​

Mornings, Jaemin hated them. Yes, that was beyond cliche, but it was the truth. Especially right now. At approximately 7 am, Jaemin also hated being awake, Jeno, being cold, people, Jeno again, and work. 

Jaemin and Jeno both worked at a cafe near campus where Jeno worked the morning shift, had time for a quick workout, then went to school, all because he enjoyed mornings. On the other hand, Jaemin hated mornings, so he slept in, went to class in the afternoon for a few hours, and then came to work in the evenings. It was a schedule that just worked for the both of them, no downsides- usually.

But Jaemin was not in the comfort of his bed, dreaming, drooling, and snoozing away like he could have been this morning. No, he was working Jeno’s shift because Jaemin was the best friend on the planet and he would do anything for Jeno anytime Jeno wanted- no. Jeno had woken up with a high fever and a sore throat, and it was easier to wake Jaemin, his roommate, to ask for him to cover his shift than to text another coworker. Anything for the health of the general public, gag, Jaemin hated how nice Jeno was sometimes.

So after opening at a bright and early 6:45, helping only one customer in the 45 minutes that he had been open, Jaemin was starting to feel that anger from being up so early. He should have some coffee to give himself energy and help with the anger, but his brain just couldn’t seem to send the signals to his limbs to make him move. His eyes were locked on all the empty tables and chairs of the cafe, tables and chairs that were always filled during his normal evening shift. The emptiness paired with the godforsaken jazz song playing over and over and over again were driving him insane. After a five-minute war between his mind and body, he got to work making a drink for himself. His specialty iced americano with his precious eight shots of espresso. His priceless, liquid gold. He was so concentrated while making his drink that he didn’t even hear the door open to reveal his second customer of the day. 

“Oh my god, Jeno! Eight shots?” He heard a voice exclaim. “Oh, you’re not Jeno, I’m so sorry.”

“Just a minute please, I’ll be right with you,” Jaemin replied. 

He couldn’t keep you waiting forever, so he set his prepared drink aside and made his way to the customer at the counter. Oh, this cute customer. He quickly turned to the register, asking you for your order with a polite smile.

“Just a medium iced caramel latte with almond milk, double the caramel drizzle, and an extra shot please.” You recited your order.

He nodded, took the money, and began working on your order, but unfortunately, his mind was not on your order. He just wanted a sip of his coffee, for the energy to kick in. His body was craving it, the taste, the energy that would make him feel normal, like a human. He could have gotten a quick sip in if the bell over the door hadn’t distracted him. Another customer, same routine: smile, I’ll be right with you, finish one drink, new drink to make. He distractedly reached for the cup on the counter, calling out your name before turning to the new customer. 

You approached the counter hesitantly, this did not look like your drink. The bell over the door sounded again and again as you hesitantly reached for the drink that was supposedly yours. You could just ask him to remake your drink, but the line was getting longer with the morning rush beginning and you had to get to class soon. That and you would feel awful asking him to waste supplies to make a simple drink again. 

Okay, you reassured yourself, hopefully, this wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe this barista just makes it differently, much differently, than Jeno does. You grabbed the drink and a straw, calling out a “thank you” as you walked out of the cafe. Stopping beside a trash bin you unwrapped the straw and took a sip of the pitch-black drink. Your face scrunched up in disgust, you could barely fight back the urge to spit out the coffee, no matter how hard your body was screaming at you to get it out.. You could not bring yourself to even look at the poison in hand so you tossed it into the bin, what a sad waste of money and his work. 

The next morning you walked in a little later, as your first class of the day had gotten canceled. You joined the line, looking at the menu because you could not and would not order your usual today. Normally you wouldn’t have to look at the menu, Jeno knew how to make your drink perfectly, but Jeno was not there. The take on your drink yesterday had scarred you, perhaps a hot tea today. 

“Hello, the caramel latte again today?” The same barista from yesterday asked. Where the hell was this guy getting “again” from?

You smiled almost apologetically with a hint of apprehension, “No thank you, just a mint green tea with honey please.”

He nodded, tapping away on the tablet, taking your money, and getting straight to work. The bell over the door became the background noise as the rush of professionals and early risers came in for their morning caffeine fix. Jaemin looked at the clock quickly, just 10 minutes before another coworker would show up to help him, this rush was too crazy. He quickly stirred the honey into the cup, called your name, and got to the counter to continue taking orders. It was too bad he didn’t get to make more conversation or look at you longer. Not in a weird way, he felt like he had barely had a chance to even get a glance at you today.

You had barely made it on time to class, sliding into your seat just a minute before your professor walked in and began a quick review of your last class. You sat back with a sigh, taking a sip of your warm drink. 

Well, this was odd, your tea didn’t taste like tea at all. Maybe it was just the first sip? No, the next sip tasted like nothing but honey. Confused, you took the lid off the cup to take a look, only to be met with the sight of steaming water mixed with honey-no tea in sight. 

After class, you sent a quick text to your usual barista and friend, Jeno, to let him know that you had notes for him. Time to carry on with your day, sadly caffeine-free.

Jaemin had had no idea that he had messed your drinks up so badly. When he had given you his americano the rush had just come in so when he went to look for his drink later he had figured that his coworker had just accidentally tossed it. The second day, he could blame the rush again. He had haphazardly tossed a tea bag in the general vicinity of the cup before passing it in your direction. So it came as a surprise to him that for the rest of the week that he covered Jeno’s shift, the cute customer that came in right before the rush, that would be you, had stopped coming in. It was a shame, but he could continue on with his life with little to no regret. Maybe he would see you again or maybe another customer would catch his eye. There was no use in dwelling on something he had no control over or wasting time letting his mind run wild with anxious thoughts of why you hadn’t come back.

That was until he came home one day a week later to find Jeno on a loud call. Jeno smiled and quickly mouthed to Jaemin that he was on the phone with a friend. “Jeno, I’m telling you. That was the worst coffee I have ever tasted. Never in my life have I had a drink that could be used to run a car. I just don’t understand how you could mess up a caramel latte that bad.” He heard. 

Caramel latte? The voice sounded familiar but he was hopeful that maybe, just maybe it wasn’t you. 

“And the next day, god Jeno, I ordered a tea because I was so nervous to order a coffee and all I got was hot water, then I stopped going until you went back.” It was you, This was the worst-case scenario and it was you, the cute customer that he had developed a tiny, little crush on. He tried to remember how he had made your orders, and he swore he made them the way he asked. But how was he supposed to remember anything correctly when he was up before 10 every day and coming in contact with a hundred people?

“Yeah, I can do Friday morning, see you then.” Had Jaemin missed the rest of the conversation? It seemed so.

“So Mr. Makes the Worst Cup of Coffee, how was your day?” Jeno smirked.

Jaemin scoffed, “We don’t even know if it was me.”

Jeno burst out laughing immediately going to explain that those were the days that he was sick while Jaemin yelled over him stating that perhaps, perhaps, it was another barista you were talking about. But they both knew that no one else that worked in the cafe drank anything nearly as strong as Jaemin’s iced americano. Jaemin sighed having clearly lost the argument, “How do you know them anyway?”

“We’re the same major,” Jeno answered with a simple shrug. Maybe it wasn’t too late for a change in major.

This customer was so close to home and he had somehow ruined one of the things he prided himself on. He was so proud of his barista abilities, it was a passion of his. Customers constantly came back for his drinks specifically, left him tips (for his drinks or looks- he didn’t care), asked when Jaemin would be back on his days off, and he had gotten employee of the month a few times. 

After that night, you had not left Jaemin’s mind. It was like all he could think about was you. When he saw Jeno, every day, he wondered if Jeno had seen you. When he woke up every morning he remembered that you were up early, bright-eyed and ready to take on the day. At work, he constantly wondered if maybe you would come in and order something. Walking across campus he wondered if he maybe had a class in the same buildings as you. At this point, it was no longer a little crush on the cute customer that came in twice a couple weeks ago, it was a crush on a friend of a friend, someone that he could actually potentially meet one day. 

Maybe he could run into you on campus, leaving the library after studying so hard that he could offer to buy you a cup of coffee. There could be a party soon that the two of you would magically bump into each other at where he could blow you away with his bartending skills. It was such a weird thing for Jaemin to experience, imagining what might be with someone he didn’t know beyond being a customer. He had been in relationships before but never had there been a person that consumed his every thought. 

Granted the day after the call, Jaemin did feel a little- or really a lot of anger towards you saying he made the worst cup of coffee that he did actually let his anger fuel his day. He was flipping violently through textbooks, punching away at the keys on his computer, nearly ripping through sheets of paper with the pressure of his pencil. He didn’t like this feeling, he had to remind himself to calm down and take deep breaths. No one had ever made him feel this angry, if it was even anger that he was feeling or maybe just sadness poorly masked as anger. That made much more sense, it really did pay off to have taken that psychology class his first semester.

You had become so involved in every part of Jaemin’s day that he just wondered if in this very moment he was imagining you walking out of Starbucks while he sat at a red light on a sunny Friday morning. Had his mind become so powerful that he could now make things and people appear out of thin air? He hadn’t tried that since he was a kid, but maybe he had just become more powerful. It couldn’t be you though right? He knew there was no way he had super powers, but there was also no way it actually was you, it would be the biggest coincidence. He rolled down the passenger side window, leaning closer to the sidewalk where you were walking towards the parking lot and gasped when he realized that his imagination was in fact, not playing tricks on him, it really was you. 

“Are you cheating on us?!” He screeched. Uh oh, he wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. The stupid mermaid was just staring at him mockingly, he couldn’t stop himself from saying it. It was the worst word vomit he had ever experienced. 

You stopped and squinted trying to look at who had just yelled at you, lucky for you Jaemin was still in shock from actually yelling that he was frozen still with a hand clasped over his mouth. Yup, that would be the person that yelled. You looked him dead in the eye and took a long sip of the drink in hand. “Tastes better than yours.” You cheekily called back. 

Jaemin’s jaw dropped, he was so ready to defend his barista title, his locally-owned cafe, but the car behind him seemed to think the opposite thanks to its incessant honking because the light had been green for more than 10 seconds. Once again, you had plagued his thoughts, not necessarily in a good way though. You had betrayed him-no, you hadn’t but he was dramatic.

He could at least spend some time away from you, it’s not like he saw you out in public very often, ever saw you on campus, or came in during his shift. He was lost in his thoughts as he walked through the door to his apartment. He heard Jeno laugh, then a new voice. Very odd, but he put on a smile and reminded himself to be polite. 

“Hi- oh you,” Jaemin said. 

“Nice to finally meet you properly, please don’t yell at me again.” You smiled playfully. 

Jeno’s eyes widened comically in shock, immediately interrogating Jaemin. Why would Jaemin think it’s okay to yell at someone he doesn't know? Much less one of Jeno’s friends. Jaemin really did try to defend himself, but every time he tried to make a point it just didn’t make sense. He sounded so stupid. “I am so sorry about him.” Jeno apologized, elbowing Jaemin’s rib. 

“I’m sorry too, it was inappropriate and rude of me to yell at you.” Jaemin recited. This was not the first time he had had to apologize for yelling at someone in public. 

You waved the both of them off, “I was messing around, it’s nice to match a name to a face.”

Jaemin made his way to his room like a scolded child while you and Jeno returned to the screens in front of you, already typing away before the bedroom door even shut. Jaemin made a promise to himself that he would stay in his room until you left. There was no way that he would go out there and risk even more embarrassment in front of you, not just the customer he had a small crush on but the innocent pedestrian he yelled at that very morning. His mind was swirling with regret and thoughts of how badly he had messed up any chance he had with you. He could not go out there and ruin any remaining chance of friendship or even acquaintanceship, or even risk you going to Starbucks every day and never going back to the cafe. Half an hour later he pulled a pillow over his face to muffle his groans, these thoughts were making him crazy, one groan from his throat and a rumble from his stomach. There was no way he could wait until you left now, he had to get food. 

Jeno looked up as the door opened, “Right on time, does chicken sound good for dinner?” 

Jaemin nodded, ready to turn back and relax on his bed but instead he lingered in his doorway. He ignored the nerves in his stomach and decided that the best decision as a host in his home would be to not leave you alone while Jeno called in the order. Even if he did think you were a little bit of a treacherous snake- from a business standpoint of course.

He cleared his throat, effectively grabbing your attention, “So uh, what are you guys working on?”

“Jeno and I are partners for a project in a communications class so we have to analyze a bunch of sources and then explain why the audience could interpret each source in different ways.” You answered simply with a shrug, as if you had just told him how to make toast. 

“Well that’s cool…”

It was now or never. He could talk to you now and clear the air in hopes of perhaps forming a friendship or he could stay quiet and try his best to enjoy the awkward environment. He let out a breathy, nervous laugh, drawing your attention back, “So I think I heard you say I make the, what was it? Oh, the shittiest cup of coffee you’ve ever had.”

Your eyes widened, “No, no, no! I didn’t say that exactly, I did say though, it was the worst coffee I ever had.” 

“How badly could I have messed up your order? So badly that you had to go to Starbucks apparently.” 

“I had ordered an almond milk caramel latte and received a coffee with not only no milk at all, so it wasn’t even a latte, but also no form of sweetness. On top of that, I had one sip at the beginning of the day that kept me awake and energized until midnight. And! You gave me tea with no tea. Surprisingly though, you are not the worst barista in the cafe.” You responded with a playful roll of your eyes.

Jaemin choked on his spit, “What do you mean? I remember the first day you came in while I was making my coffee… you got my coffee.” He dropped to his knees, “Forgive me, please.”

You threw your head back with a laugh, “Get up, I’ve already forgiven you. Jeno talks about you a lot, so I was actually looking forward to meeting you anyway, even if we did start off on not so great terms.”

“They said about 20 or 30 minutes, you good?” Jeno asked as he reentered the room.

You smiled with a nod, “We’re becoming the best of friends.”

Jaemin blushed, ready to get your attention off of him, “So, you said I don’t carry the title for worst barista.”

“Wait really? Who is it then, best to worst go!” Jeno exclaimed. 

“First, is your owner, Johnny, right? Man, he makes a delicious caramel latte, the best I have ever had. Next, I guess would be Ren-”

“Renjun?!” Jeno and Jaemin interrupted. 

“Well yeah, he’s super nice and added caramel syrup to the milk I think? Not sure, it was really good, and he added the cutest little drawing on my cup. You guys aren’t last or anything though, Haechan is.” You told them with a shudder.

You all burst out laughing as you recounted the time that Haechan had yelled at you while taking a phone order and ended up sliding a half filled, kids size cup of water across the counter with your name. Another time he was so busy flirting with another customer throughout the whole process of taking and making your order that he had given them your drink too and just given you a pastry instead. Jeno told you guys about a time that Haechan had poured coffee beans on the floor, not once or even twice, but three times in one four hour shift. Jaemin added his own story where Haechan had convinced a handful of customers that they were out of coffee until Johnny came in from the back with a bag of coffee beans. 

You all wiped the tears from the corners of your eyes as you tried to catch your breaths from laughing so hard. Jeno sat up when he heard a knock on the door. It was probably the delivery man. 

Jaemin looked over at you, a happy smile still on his face. “You know, I would really like it if I could actually make it up to you.”

“Free coffee?” You asked excitedly. 

He laughed awkwardly, “Uh no, I uh, um- I think you’re really... cool?”

“This is fucking painful. Jaemin thinks you’re cute and this is his lame attempt at asking you out on a date.” Jeno jumped in, setting the bag of food on the dining table. 

You flushed, immediately feeling hot, “I would actually really like that.”

The dinner was clouded with awkwardness, little glances here and there paired with a little conversation. Now that you both knew you at least kind of liked each other, and were interested in one another there was no way he could ruin his chance by saying something embarrassing. All the conversations were basic, surface-level, first day of class icebreaker, boring. What’s your major? What do you want to do with your major? What year are you? How long have you and your best friend since birth lived together?

“Maybe it was better when you hated each other, I can practically feel the tension.” Jeno sighed, reaching his hands forward to “grab” the tension. Maybe Jeno would eat his words when the sparks began flying after the first date, maybe. Yeah, probably.

-

BONUS

“I’ve had a really good time with you.” Jaemin smiled down at the ground. The blush on his cheeks was hot while your hand in his was warm. 

“I’ve had a great time with you too, you really made up for all your little mishaps.” You replied.

Jaemin laughed, “Which reminds me, I have to finally show you that I am in fact the best barista, ever. Would you mind if we stopped by the cafe?”

You shook your head, holding his hand tighter on the walk to the cafe. He held the door open for you and guided you towards an empty seat close to the counter so you could both still talk to one another. 

“Welcome! Oh, Jaemin was this your date? I’ve seen you here before right? I’m Johnny, the owner.” Johnny greeted with a smile. 

“Nice to meet you too, I love your cafe. Jaemin is making me a replacement drink since he ruined the first couple of drinks. He doesn’t have to, but he practically insisted.”

“And you didn’t call and complain? You must have really liked him.” Johnny laughed.

You couldn’t fight the heat creeping up your neck, so you quickly looked away from the owner standing in front of you to avoid more embarrassment. 

“Ah, I’ve never made you this nervous! Here is your iced caramel latte with almond milk.” Jaemin teased as he set the drink in front of you. He looked at you expectantly, awaiting your verdict.

You took a sip, pleasantly surprised with the familiar taste of your favorite drink. “It’s so good! Thank you.”

“Better than Johnny and Renjun?” Jaemin asked.

“Maybe stop the questions while you’re ahead buddy, there’s no way it could be better than mine. Hope to see you soon.” Johnny smirked as you both left. 

Jaemin pouted the whole way back to your apartment, you had to reassure him that it was so good that soon he would get sick of seeing your face around the cafe.

He stopped in front of your door, “I don’t think I could ever get sick of your face, so I would really like to take you out again.”

“I would really love that, goodnight Jaemin.” You smiled, pulling him in for a hug before making your way inside.

Jaemin smiled, stepped back from your door and slowly began to make his way home. Walking slowly as his thoughts were filled with date ideas, your face, and just how amazing you truly were. He was so in his head that he didn’t even realize you had come back out to see him again until he felt you tug on his wrist so he could face you. 

“Can I kiss you?” You asked breathlessly.

He smiled widely, nodding energetically as he placed a hand on your waist to pull you closer, inviting you to do as you please. Your hands came up to the nape of his neck, nervously playing with his hair before you finally pressed your lips to his own. A short but passionate kiss, it was like your lips were made for one another.

“I’ll see you soon, text me when you get home.” You told him bashfully, holding onto his hand until it eventually fell from the distance between you two. He agreed, locking eyes with you until you were out of his sight and there was no possibility of you ever leaving his mind. Sparks indeed.

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Yandere Bully Jasper Hale X bullied Male Reader

Warning: little violence, bullying, and a little smut. 

Requested from Peramess. 

Background: In this world vampires and humans live together in peace but vampires still mistreat humans because they are weaklings. Then this brings us to Jasper Hale he is the king of H/S/N. He bullies those that weak he likes to pick on one kid specifically... M/n. this goes on for a while until a new boy arrives at school. Jasper doesn’t like how you and him are close. Jasper had to ‘deal’ with Elijah.

M/N: Male name

L/N: Last name

H/S/N: High School Name.

Disclaimer: I have never seen twilight so my knowledge of it low. All I know is its about werewolves and vampires and a girl named Bella.

sorry if this is bad!

Word count: 2026

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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES

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*beep, beep, beep*

You heard your annoying alarm clock going off. “Ugh!” you turned off your alarm clock and got up. You see hints of the sun’s rays penetrating through the closed curtains. ‘New day, and more torture.’ 

You were bullied by Jasper Hale, the “Vampire King” of H/S/N. You didn’t understand why he was doing it, you weren’t weak like others. You do go to the gym and workout, but you weren’t strong as Jasper. 

After just staring at the corner for 5 minutes, you finally got up and began your daily routine. You emptied your blabber, bushed your teeth until they were crystal white, and you put on your uniform. 

After a few minutes some finalizations, you made your way downstairs, where you see your mother cooking her famous pancakes. “Good morning sweetie!” Your mother acknowledges your presence entering the kitchen. 

‘Hey mom,” you said with a tired voice. “You okay sweetie? You don’t seem excited.” Your mother asked worriedly. “I’m just tired. I just wanna go back to sleep.” you said, ‘If only she knew.’ You thought to yourself. “Oh okay, anyways breakfast is ready! Dig in!” your mother placed down a plate full of pancakes, bacon, sausages, and eggs with toast and milk on the side. Your mouth was salivating. “Thanks, mom.” 

After a few minutes of eating, you said goodbye to your mother and began walking to school. As you were walking, you began to take in the sights before entering prison- school. 

You began to the building appear in the distance. When you entered, you were met with a kick to the leg. “Ahh.” you fell onto the concrete floor, you looked you see the same blond-haired guy that made your life a living hell, Jasper Hale. (is that blond hair?) 

“Well, well, well look at what we got here.” you heard him say clearly mocking you. “Well, you need to get your daily beating.” You were now scared, nobody was coming to aid you. Everyone was afraid of what might happen to them. You felt pain spread throughout your body as they kicked. 

The bell ring and the kicking stopped. “I’ll be back later to finish what we started.” Jasper whispered into your ear before leaving with his gang. You stayed there for minutes before attempting to get back up.

While you were getting up, you see a hand in front of you. You looked up and see an unfamiliar person. ‘Who is he?’ You questioned. You just stared at his hand before finally taking it. 

“You okay? You looked pretty beat up.” this stranger said. “Yeah, I’m okay this happens daily,” you replied not caring about how he would respond. “If you say so,” he responded. “So are you new here or something? Cause I have never seen you around,” You asked curiously. “Oh, yes. Yes, I am new. And I was wondering if you knew where this class is?” he asked handing you his schedule. You looked over and he had the same classes as you. “We both have the same classes. I can show around if you want,” you offered him. “Okay, let’s get going!”

“By the way, what’s your name?” You asked wanting to get to know him, ‘He could be my first friend!’ you thought excitedly. “Elijah. Elijah Wilson. Nice to meet you. what’s your name?” he now asked you the same question. “Oh, umm M/n. M/N L/N…” you replied nervously since this was your first time having a normal conversation. “Nice to meet you M/N! Now I feel like we should get going.” He replied in a friendly tone. ‘Maybe he isn’t that bad.’ “Yeah, let’s get going,” you replied with a smile on your face. 

“So you have trigonometry for the first period! Come on let me show you where it is.” You said walking in the direction of both you’re first-period class. “Ugh, trigonometry?! Why is math my first-period class!” Elijah said annoyed, while you laughed at him.  

Time skip (4 minutes)

After walking for 4 minutes you and Elijah both made it to class. Once you open the door everybody stared at you. “You’re late!” your teacher said aggravated that you interrupted her class. In the corner of your eye, you can Jasper be chuckling and smirking along with everybody else. That was when Elijah made himself noticed after walking in. Now everybody’s attention was on him. 

“Ahh, you must the new student right?” “Yes, I am. my name is Elijah Wilson,” Elijah replied timidly. “Alright, class Elijah will be joining our class and treat him with respect. Do you need someone to show you around?” Your teacher asked trying to get this over with. “No, M/N said he’ll show me around,” Elijah replied. “Okay, M/N you will show him around! Now… take your seats.” the teacher demanded. 

You went to your seat while Elijah followed you and took his seat next to you since no one wanted to. Everybody was looking at you both, some with a look of pity, and the others just a look of fear of what was going to happen. Jasper was fuming at this and everybody could feel his anger, he just glared at Elijah the whole time. 

Time skip (30 minutes later)

The bell rang signaling that class is over and its time to move to the next class. You packed your things and waited for Elijah at the door. While you were waiting you got for Elijah, you got punched in the back and kicked in the leg, then you felt someone pulling your hair. You looked and wouldn’t you know it, it was Jasper with a furious look on his face. He was about to continue until someone stepped in.

“Hey stop that!” Elijah yelled, gaining the attention of everyone in the hallway. “Or what? What are going to do, you weak human.” Jasper said with venom, he let go of your hair and began to walk towards Elijah. Elijah walked forward as well. Jasper was about to punch Elijah but he quickly dodges and landed a punch on Jasper. Then the fight happened, you were just standing there shocked. 

They were both beaten up but Jasper seems to be more injured. ‘How is he doing this?! Jasper is a vampire! He’s human?!’ You thought to yourself as you were confused. Jasper was the first to put out. “Gasp.” everybody gasped. ‘Jasper never backed down!’ you too were shocked. 

After it was over you got up and went to aid Elijah. “Come on we need to get to the nurse’s office.” You helped a very bruised Elijah up and made your way to the office. While you were walking, Jasper was just staring at your back. ‘You’ll be mine M/n…’ 

Time skip (5 minutes)

You knocked on the door. No one answered. You decided to just enter anyways. “Looks like the nurse isn’t here. Go get on the bed and I’ll get the bandages.” you got the bandages and the alcohol from one of the cabinets. You both sat there in silence until Elijah asked something personal… 

“Why don’t you have many friends?” you stopped what you were doing and just looked at him. “I’m sorry if I offended you,” Elijah apologize. “No don’t worry, you didn’t offend me.” it went back to being quiet until you man up and told him what happen. “If you’re wondering why I don’t have many friends… (you paused for a moment) My friends went missing. I don’t know what happened to them,” you said while tears began to pour out of your eyes. You felt Elijah hug you whispering, “It’s alright.”

Jasper was looking in through the window of the door. Jealousy and anger raged through his veins. 

Time skip (2 months later)

You and Elijah have grown close. Jasper for some reason stopped bullying you, now all he does is stare at you, but you paid no attention to it.

It was the end of the school day and you said your goodbyes to Elijah and began your walk home. While you were walking you felt like someone was watching you. 

You heard footsteps behind and you decided to walk faster the figure behind also began to walk faster. Before you know it, you ran trying to get away from this unknown person. But in the end, this unknown figure caught you and pulled you into an alleyway. 

This hooded figure pulled out a cloth with chloroform on it and put it onto your nose. You tried your best not to inhale it but failed. You passed out. 

You woke up and see that you’re chained to the wall. You began to panic, you looked around trying to see you’re surrounding. In the corner of the room you… Elijah chained up to the wall as well. “Elijah!” you called out to him but he didn’t respond. You heard footsteps coming down into the basement. You looked at the entrance and you see…… Jasper. 

“Jasper?! You did this!” You yelled with anger. “Watch that mouth of your sweetheart.” when he said you were flabbergasted. ‘Sweetheart?!?!’ “Sweetheart?! One, why are you calling me that, and two, what did you do to Elijah?!” when I said Elijah’s name, his face changed immediately. ‘Bipolar much.’ 

“Elijah, Elijah! It always about him! Why?!” He said with resentment. “Why?! Because you bullied me every day! Elijah was the only one who actually stood up for me and stood up to you!”  you yelled back at him. After you said that he just looked at you before making a move. “You wanna see what I did to Elijah?! Here have a look!” With that said Jasper throws the dead body of Elijah. You screamed at the sight, his eyes were ripped out and his fingers were ripped off as well. Also, his blood was drained. 

Jasper just laughs at your expression. “Wanna know why his eyes and fingers are ripped off? Because he looked at you. His fingers? He touched you.” you were screaming at how calm he was. While you’re crying out your tears, Jasper began to step closer. 

He grabbed the chains raising you up. He grabbed your wrist pulling you closer and tilt your head to the other side. Jasper began to lick your neck trying your sweet spot, he put his hand over your mouth so you wouldn’t make a sound. “Mmm.” you whimpering until…

“Ahhhh!” you felt fangs penetrating your skin. “Mmm.” Jasper was sucking your blood. He then stopped and began to whisper in your ear. “You taste delicious. Better than that scumbag’s blood. You taste so sweet,” Jasper whispered in your ear while also licking it and biting. 

He went back to sucking your blood in the same location. You passed out from blood loss but before you did, you heard him say something. “You’ll make the best bride.”

Time skip (5 months. 5 months since you went missing.)

“You may now kiss the bride.” Jasper immediately grabbed you and kissed you. “We are now married. Now you’ll be mine forever. Nobody will come to save you. Dead is the only thing that will divide us…”

How did this happen? It started off as Jasper bullying you, now it ends with your Bully marrying you. 

You’re his and he’ll never let you go. 

[euovennia]

Make Yourself Comfortable - C.C Imagine

summary: in which carlisle returns home after a long day of work

pairing: fem!reader x carlisle

word count: 1,396

a/n: this is based off the song 'make yourself comfortable' by sarah vaughn so feel free to give it a listen while you read. also, i've been a bit stumped on what i should write exactly so feel free to send in any requests you have! thanks for reading!

song link:

With a deep sigh escaping past his pale pink lips, Carlisle set down the pen in his hand on the desk as he leaned back in his office chair. If it weren't for him already being dead, Carlisle knew he'd have no problem betting that he'd soon meet an untimely demise solely based on the copious amount of paperwork that had carelessly built up over the course of the past week.

The man loved his job, it was the light in a life that seemed to offer nothing but an endless road of darkness. While he typically wasn't one to cultivate a pessimistic attitude, his vampirism still managed to hinder the confidence and level-headedness he so often prided himself on. He was still grateful of course. Being a vampire brought on many perks such as super-speed, impeccable strength, and strikingly good looks, but he couldn't help but still feel down about his kind. He was quite literally a killing machine and he was all too aware of it, often getting into his own head about it despite Edward badgering him about the fact he had no say in the matter. Still, he felt like a monster. A cold, heartless monster.

It was in those moments of self-doubt and hatred that he was especially grateful for his heightened sense of compassion and self-control. It allowed him to not only maintain a steady flow of employment but also allowed him to thrive in one of the most unlikely environments. He was bestowed with arguably one of the most valuable gifts and he couldn't help but thank his lucky stars every night that he was able to give back to the world, even in such a small way. It made him feel better about himself and that's all he ever wanted; to not be the monster he had so easily made himself out to be.

Snapping back to reality, he was suddenly all too aware of the darkness that was creeping outside of his office window. Brows furrowed, he looked to the clock on the wall.

1:53 AM

He pressed his lips into a thin line as he turned his attention down to the paperwork that sat on his desk staring back at him mockingly. He sat idle momentarily before shaking his head and standing up. He hastily packed his belongings into his bag, making sure to even slide a few patient files for further studying while off the clock before turning off the lights and heading out of his office ready to make the journey home.

___

Once pulled into the driveway, he gathered his belongings before exiting the car and shutting the door behind him. He took a quick glance around, his eyes quickly catching onto the absence of his children's vehicles. He raised a brow but opted to ignore the absence, regardless of how uncharacteristic it was.

Perhaps they went for an impromptu trip.

Locking the car door behind him, he began walking up to his front door before swinging the door open. Eyes widened, he looked around the dimly lit house as his ears immediately picked up on the sweet melody flowing through the air. Slowly, he stepped into the house as he dropped his belongings by the door entrance. He quietly shut the door behind him as he continued his walk toward the source of the music as it continued playing.

Mmm mmm make yourself comfortable

Mmm mmm make yourself comfortable

Mmm mmm make yourself comfortable, baby

___

Reaching the kitchen entrance, his gaze softened as it fell onto his gorgeous wife and mate who was swaying around in the kitchen to the beat of the song. He watched as her eyes snapped opened and she turned to look back at Carlisle. A smile came over her face as she spoke, "I was beginning to think you were going to pull an all-nighter. You're usually home much earlier."

"I just lost track of time. It's been stressful lately, a lot more new patients have been coming." A small frown decorated her face but was quickly wiped away as she began to walk toward him before stopping when she was directly in front of him.

"Well, I'm glad you made it home to me."

At her soft admission, his hands enveloped hers as he pulled her closer to him.

"I am too. I must ask though, what's with all the lighting and music?"

A sheepish smile overcame her face as she pulled away slightly.

I got some records here to put you in the mood

The phone is off the so no one can contrude

I feel romantic and the records change is all demanded, baby

Sweetheart we hurry through our dinner, hurry through the dance

Left before the picture show was through

"I was anticipating you being home much earlier so I kicked the kids out a while ago. I know you've been feeling a bit stressed lately so I wanted you to come home to something nice. Music, food, maybe even a dance. You seem tired though so I can leave it. Maybe another day."

Carlisle's gaze filled with love as he stared down at the woman before him. His eyes trailed over her features as his hands found themselves securely wrapped around her waist.

"So this is all for me?"

She nodded silently, "All for you."

He took in a breath of air, his nose immediately catching onto the delightful smell of cougar blood; their favorite.

He lovingly pressed a tender kiss to the temple of her head before he walked over to the counter where the blood sat in wine glasses, a running gag present in the family. He picked up both of the glasses and turned back to where she originally stood only to find her gone and now standing directly in front of him. She swiftly took one of the glasses from his hand with a small smile present on her face.

"I didn't think you'd still be willing to have any, especially so late. I was just getting ready to put it away."

He smiled down at her as he clinked his glass with hers, "It seems I got here just in time then."

She intertwined their free hands before drinking from her glass with Carlisle following suit. They stood there silently for a few moments, sipping from their wine glasses as they took their time embracing the company of each other, something that appeared to be a rare occurrence nowadays.

Why did we hurry through the dinner, hurry through the dance

To leave sometime for this. To hug, hug and kiss and kiss, now

Take off your shoes in here and loosen up your tie

I got some kisses here, lets try one on for size

I'll turn the lights low while you make yourself comfortable, baby

Finishing off her glass, she set it back down on the counter as she craned her neck back to look up at her mate as she observed him. With a gentle touch, she grabbed the nearly empty glass from him and set it down on the counter next to hers before her hands moved down to his tie. She loosened the seemingly flawless knot before managing to tug it off his neck. She then draped it around her own neck before looking down at his dress shoes. She shook her head as she spoke, "You should really take those off. I just cleaned today."

Letting out a small chuckle, he obliged as he slipped out of his shoes and kicked them over to the side without a care in the world.

Once abandoned, her hands grabbed his before setting them into her waist. She then snaked hers up to his neck as she pulled his body closer to hers. Together, they began to absentmindedly sway to the music that played in the background, a perfect tune of love and admiration that filled both the home atmosphere and the hearts of the two lovers.

Make yourself comfortable baby

[kaywinchester]

Last Resort

anon asked: Hey! I love your work! Do you think you could do a sister!reader fic where Dean, Sam and Cas are away on a long hunt, and the reader (younger, maybe between 11-14) has a panic attack? Since her brothers nor Cas can help, Crowley shows up... Thank you!

Word Count: 1,762

A/N: I know panic attacks can be different for a lot of people, so I kind of just made the panic attack in this story how mine usually are. I also set this before the boys found the bunker since Crowley is still around.  *Also not my gif*

“Hey, wake up.... Y/N c’mon wake up.” Sam said as he shook your sleeping form. 

You rolled over to your side and blinked your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the light shining in from the hallway.

“M’what?” You mumbled.

“Y/N, Cas called us. Dean and I have to leave to go help him, it’s important.”

“What’s going on?” You wondered, looking over at the clock on the nightstand to see that it was 2:30 in the morning. 

“We’ll call you and explain everything later, but we have to leave. We might be gone for a few days but I wanted to let you know.” Sam said frantically.

“Okay, call me in the morning.” You said, still half asleep and not really understanding what was going on. 

Sam nodded and shut the lights off as he and Dean gathered their things before leaving the motel room. You rolled to your other side and fell back asleep within minutes.

....................

You woke up the next morning and sat up in bed, looking around, you were confused as to why Sam and Dean weren't there. It took you a minute but you remembered Sam waking you up. Just as you were thinking about where the hell they went, your phone rang.

“Sam?”

“Hey, how’re you doing?”

“Uh, where are you guys and when are you coming back?” 

“Sorry for leaving in such a rush. Cas called us about some other angels that are going around taking people out. Normally he’d be able to handle this himself but they're moving pretty fast.” Sam explained.

“When will you be back?”

“Not sure, but this one might take a few days. Maybe a week at worst, but we’ll keep you updated.”

“What about food?” You asked, glancing at the small motel kitchen. 

“Dean went on a supply run after you fell asleep last night, the fridge should be stocked. We wouldn’t leave you alone if we thought you couldn't handle it.” Sam said.

“Okay, well, hurry back.” 

“We will. Gotta go, we’ll talk to you later.” “Stay safe, Y/N/N.” You heard Dean say in the background.

....................

It had been 4 days since the boys left and you were bored out of your mind. You had opened snack after snack, watched way too much tv, and even snuck two of Dean’s beers. You knew he would notice and be pissed off but you didn't even care at the time. 

Just when you thought you would be fine by yourself, you weren't. 

The paranoia started to set in, which happened often when the boys would leave on longer hunts and not take you with them. Sometimes, you were able to brush it off and be patient until they got back. Other times like this, it was like a nagging feeling of terrible thoughts that would set off a panic attack.

There was a string of bad thoughts that kept rushing through your head. Wondering if Sam and Dean would be okay, if they were going to make it back safely, or if they were already dead and you just didn’t know it yet. 

These thoughts sent you pacing back and forth around the motel room. You chewed your lip as you imagined Sam and Dean walking through the door with their bags, trying your best to calm yourself down. 

You sat down on the edge of the bed as you felt your breathing picking up, feeling so panicked and uncomfortable, being alone for longer than you were okay with. You wanted to call Sam and Dean to check in but you didn’t want to be a bother. Your brothers knew that you had occasional panic attacks, but they didn’t know the extent of them. It was also a little embarrassing, so you decided to keep it on the low. 

That’s when your phone rang, seeing it was Sam, you answered almost right away.

“Sammy?” You breathed out.

“Hey kiddo. What’s up?” Dean answered instead.

“Uh, hey.... nothing much.... Is Sam there?”

“Yeah, he just fell asleep in the passenger seat. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, just um.... when will you be back?”

“We just finished up actually. We were able to track down the last string of dickhead angels so were on our way back right now.”

“How long?” You asked a little too eagerly. 

“Should be there in about 4 hours, could be less.... You know how I drive.” Dean let out a chuckle. 

“Ok great, hurry back.” Was all you could think of saying before hanging up the phone. 

....................

Sam stirred in his seat, waking up and turning to Dean to see his phone in his hand. “What are you doing with my phone?”

“Y/N called, she was just asking where we were.”

“Oh. How is she?”

“Good... sounded a little weird though.”

“What do you mean weird?”

“I dunno. She’s probably just getting impatient.”

Sam took a moment to think about how Dean worded that, realizing you might've been having an episode.

“No more stops tonight, let’s get back as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

“She might be panicking a little bit, we’ve been gone for almost a week.”

“She’ll be fine, she just needs to get used to being on her own.” Dean started being insensitive. 

“Dean, I don’t think you know how panic attacks work.”

“She doesn't still have those, does she?”

“Yes, as far as I know she does, and depending on the person, they can get pretty bad.”

Dean didn't say anything after that and continued to drive faster. 

....................

You sat on the floor up against the motel bed and talked to yourself in your head, praying to Cas since your brothers were still a long ways away. You repeated the same message over and over, expecting to see Cas pop up in front of you, but it never happened.

You started to panic even more that you started to repeat your cry for help out loud, not to anyone directly, but in hopes of feeling like someone was listening. 

You weren’t expecting it but someone was listening. 

And that someone was Crowley.

Crowley appeared after minutes of you talking, it scared the shit out of you, making you spring up from where you were sitting. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You questioned.

“Well, someone is a little uneasy from what I heard.” He glanced back at you.

“Why are you even listening to me?”

“You clearly wanted someone to, and I was in the area.” Crowley said jokingly.

“Sam and Dean aren’t gonna like it when they see that you’re here.” You said as you backed up out of habit.

“Sam and Dean aren’t going to be here for a while now are they love? I might as well give you some sort of company.” He smirked, as he pulled out one of the kitchen chairs to sit down.

“Why are you acting nice?”

“Who said I was acting? The king of hell can’t do little Winchester a favor?”

“Why would you want to though, it’s pretty unlike you.”

“Let’s say I owe you and your brothers one, I can’t always be ruining things can I? That would just be bad for my reputation.” Crowley sassed.

You scoffed at his sarcastic remarks, then realizing that he did a good job of distracting you from how you were feeling.

“Thanks” you gave a small smile, accepting the nice gesture Crowley gave. 

“No need... Well, I guess my work here is done.” Crowley sighed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend.” Before you could turn around to hear what Crowley was talking about, he was gone. Moments later, you heard a familiar car engine pull up in front of the motel room. 

Perfect timing.

You drew the curtains to reveal your brothers emerging from the car, with Cas already walking up to the door.

You let out a sigh of relief as you welcomed all three of them inside.

“Hello Y/N.....” Cas paused and looked around with suspicion growing on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I had a sense that one from the opposite side was lingering in this vicinity.”

“Okay, I literally understood none of that.”

“There was a demon here at some point. I’m sure of it.”

“Y/N, what’s he rambling about?” Dean asked as he hauled in the last of the things from the impala.

“Uh, I don’t know.” You lied.

Sam could see right through you face and knew something had happened. You didn’t look okay.

“Y/N, was there someone here? Did something try to hurt you?” Sam asked, grabbing Dean’s attention, stopping him from what he was doing.

“Well, Crowley...”

“Crowley!? Was he here?” Dean’s voice boomed.

“Dean, can you please not make a big deal...”

“Big deal!!?”

“Dean, dude seriously chill out. Just tell us what happened, Y/N.” Sam interrupted.

You told the three boys everything that happened. Sam immediately felt bad that he wasn’t there. Dean was worried that his little sister dealt with panic attacks this bad, but he still wasn’t happy that the king of hell just decided to pop in without warning. 

“Y/N/N, why didn’t you tell me over the phone?” Sam asked.

“I didn’t want you to worry. Plus, you were too far anyways.”

“Well next time that happens, you call us, no matter where we are. I promise, you mean more to us than our work, we’d drop everything, even if we were miles away just to get to you.” Sam explained.

“Yeah, what he said.” Dean chimed in.

“Wow, I love how much you care.” You joked.

“You know I love you Y/N/N..... but I’m gonna have to lay down some rules with Crowley, and one of them is no dropping in when I’m not here. I don’t trust that shady punk.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shrugged his arms, motioning for a hug which you gladly accepted.

“Nothing but chick flick moments over here. Get a room.” Dean scoffed.

“Shut up!”

“So, where is Crowley now?” Cas asked innocently.

“Were you even listening the whole time?” Sam asked confused.

“No, there is many things being said over angel radio.” 

“God dammit, Cas.” Dean said as he got up to grab a beer out of the fridge. “Who drank my beers?”

“Wasn’t me...” Sam shrugged. 

You knew you were in big trouble, forgetting about the choices you made earlier. So you slipped out the front door to let Dean cool down, but he had other plans. Sam quietly ratted you out as he motioned to the door that had just shut.

“Y/N! Get back here!” 

Requests are open again!

Tags:

@jackjackljaqui ​@hunting-the-grievers @susan-is-in-the-house@flirtyonsie @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @justsomedreaming

[cafeacademia]

Love Between The Pages | Chapter 4 Finale

Blaise Zabini x Reader

Chapter Summary: You and Blaise slowly come to terms with the feelings that have been hanging in the air, along with the future of the book club.

Warnings: The tiniest dash of angst for about 0.1 seconds, boatloads of fluff.

Word count: Approx 2800

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A/N: Hi loves! Here is the final part of this series! Wow I was not ready for this to be over, I've found this series incredibly comforting to write. It took me a little while to write the last part purely because I just wasn't quite ready to end it yet, but I'm really really happy with how this chapter came out. Additionally, I'm really looking forward to writing more for sweet Blaise and I've been thinking about writing a few standalone pieces that might fit into this little universe. I'm not sure yet!! Let me know if you're interested. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this series, I am so SO proud of it, thank you so so SO much for reading it! 💕

It was a calm, quiet afternoon, the old loft windows in the library were pushed open and secured on their old latches, the smell of fresh air mixed with the ever cosy scent of wood polish and old books making it all the more delightful to spend time in the library. Sifting through your bag, you pulled out the books you needed to return to Madam Pince, wondering what you might pick up this week, deciding that it needed to be something special.

You clocked Theo walking in with Cho and Neville at either side of him, the three of them chatting quietly amongst themselves as they began to make their way across to the table you all usually sat at. Looking over towards them as you placed your books on the library check out desk, you realised that having him there had become normal. Having all three of the Slytherin boys in your group had become normal and you weren’t sure you really wanted it to end.

“All of you have been reading a lot of romance as of late.” Madam Pince observed as she slid the books across the desk so she could stamp the library slips inside of the covers. “It’s spring, it brings out the romance, doesn’t it?” You said, idly fiddling with the closure on your bag, missing the way Madam Pince gave you a knowing look. “I suppose it does.” She replied before stamping your library slip and handing it back to you.

Stepping across the library floor, you made your way through the rows of shelves, passing the tables of students chatting and studying quietly, some of them reading, others getting their homework done before the weekend. But as you continued towards the table near the back where the golden hour of sun glowed so beautifully across the deep chestnut hues of the furniture and the aged spines of books that were all positioned neatly on their shelves, you caught sight of him. Blaise.

You wondered if he hadn’t noticed you first, his eyes seemingly already on your approaching figure, his smile bright and lopsided, a sight you had gotten fast used to and yet did not want to lose so quickly in the matter of an hour. “There you are.” He said, stepping over towards you with a book in hand. “Here I am.” You smiled, looking up at him with a sweet smile on your lips, trying your best to conceal the way his smile and his voice made your heart leap.

You had not yet forgotten the way his hand had felt in yours just a week prior, the way he had brushed his fingers against yours and held you with such a gentle grip. Was it too much to ask for that again? To feel the fluttering of something akin to love in your chest or the light airy feeling of something new, something delightfully thrilling.

“What are you reading this week?” You asked quietly as he placed the book he had been looking at back on the shelf. “What would you have me read?” Blaise asked, watching as you pulled your bag off your shoulder and pulled out a chair to set it down on. “Me?” You almost gasped, sounding a little surprised by the question. “Well is there anyone else I’d ask for book recommendations?” Blaise teased, stepping a little closer to you and placing his hand on the back of the chair you had placed your bag on. Smiling shyly and struggling to meet his gaze, you giggled softly. “I suppose not.” You replied, shrugging off your robes to get more comfortable.

“Jane Eyre.” You suddenly said, looking up at him. “You should read Jane Eyre.” You added, awkwardly fiddling with your robes as you draped them over the back of your seat. “Is it romance?” He asked. You knew by now that he was very fond of romance, especially period romance and while it surprised you, it also warmed your heart to know he loved a genre you enjoyed too. “Yes, it’s a classic romance.” You replied. Blaise smiled. He always found himself gazing at you with an uncontrollable smile, it was impossible to keep his usually controlled demeanor in check around you. Perhaps it was your shyness that just seemed so sweet, or maybe it was your kind, gentle nature that made him inexplicably happy.

“Show me where to find it?” Blaise asked, holding out his hand for you. Glancing down at his hand, you felt your heart flutter. What if this wasn’t all a one off feeling between you, perhaps he too was immersed by lingering thoughts of love and attraction. “Of course.” You replied, gently placing your hand in his. Your touch was hesitant at first, his eyes capturing yours for a moment as he carefully grasped your hand in his. Blaise was gentle and soft, his touch just as exhilarating and sweet as the previous week and you felt your breath hitch in your throat before you met his eyes with an amative gaze.

Gently you closed your fingers around his hand and led him towards one of the many sections of muggle fiction within the library. As you both dipped between a couple of bookshelves, you watched as Hermione and Draco rushed in with Ginny in front of them, Hermione hissing at them both about how they were late and it was all Malfoy’s fault.

And while Blaise snorted at their antics, the two of you overhearing Hermione whisper yell as they all began to settle down at the nearby table, you trawled through the shelves in search of a copy of Jane Eyre, all while his hand held yours.

“Here it is.” You spoke softly, reaching up to grasp the copy, a soft dusty pink clothbound spine with a beautifully imprinted and silver embossed title. Blaise smiled at you as he gently took the book from you with his free hand, still holding onto you with the other. “Let me pick one out for you?” He asked, watching as you nodded, smiling rather uncontrollably. How was it that he knew just how to fluster you? All you needed was a sweet boy to hold your hand and talk to you about books and here Blaise Zabini was, doing those exact things and making it seem so romantic.

If only he knew how it made you feel. How he made you feel.

A soft, pale powder blue copy of Arabella was passed to you moments later. “Theo told me this was a good book.” Blaise said, watching as you smiled down at the book in your hands. “Did he now? I never thought Theo would be interested in Regency romance.” You mused, peering around the edge of the bookcase to catch a glimpse of the Slytherin sitting side by side with Neville, who now he seemed closer than ever with, along with Cho who seemed to have warmed up to him. You smiled, watching as Theo read a book over Neville’s shoulder. You managed to see which novel it was they were reading when Neville shuffled around a bit, revealing the lovely old illustrated cover of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

“Neither did I, but he seems to be full of surprises.” Blaise said softly as he leaned over you, his hand landing gently on your upper arm, the warmth of his presence behind you nearly melted you, nearly made you want to lean back into him. But you were not more than friends with the odd soft touch and longing gaze. In truth it felt as if it could be more, but knowing this was his last week that he would have to attend your book club, you were still unsure if this was something fleeting.

You found yourself perfectly comfortable beside Blaise as you read together in a comfortable chair, his arm resting over the back of the seat behind you while he held his book in the other hand. You tried hard not to lean into his side and you stayed comfortably close.

And while the bell tolled lowly in the background, signalling the turn of the hour, you still had hope that the boys might stay, because it truly would not be the same without them.

Getting up from your seat, you began to walk back towards the table, though you were stopped in your paces when you felt Blaise’s hand rest softly on your shoulder.

“Sweetheart.” Blaise’s low voice rolled through you, warm, sweet and yet there was an edge to it that scared you, that scared your heart. Turning in his grip, you faced him shyly, the sweet name he used for you making your chest warm and your thoughts hazy with adoration. Adoration that you quickly pushed aside. But it all seemed like a helpless attempt when Blaise reached up, gently brushing the backs of his fingers against your cheek. You leaned into him, into his warm touch, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment, breath hitching at the intimacy of the moment. And you looked up at him, eyes softening with something akin to fear and something deeper, something that looked as if it swam deep below the surface.

“What is it?” You asked, clutching the book tightly against your chest. “There’s something on your mind.” He prompted, watching as you looked shyly down at your feet. “This is all fleeting. You’ll leave and- this will have been no more than part of your detention.” You voiced your worry, somehow confident enough to let your feelings air, ones you had been hesitant to even acknowledge for several weeks now; though you still could not meet his eyes no matter how easy it had been to say the words.

There was a soft sigh, heavy swallow before his fingers gently lifted your chin. “You truly think I’d leave after all this club has brought me?” Blaise asked. “It’s much more than just books and an hour of reading in company each week.” He said. “It’s friendship,” Blaise tilted his head towards Neville, Theo and Cho. “And the way your club brought out the better in all of us.” He smiled softly, his eyes now on Draco as he read quietly with Hermione and Ginny, the three of them sharing the odd bit of chatter now and again. “And for me it’s something else. You make me feel,” He paused, the words resting on his tongue. Wonderful. Accepted. In love. “You make me feel like I’m meant to be here. You make me feel.” Blaise stopped. Because you did make him feel. You made him feel everything. Others might have stunted his feelings in the past, things slowly adding up to prompt him to build his mask of stoic temperament. But it was your passion and your love and kindness that brought out the things in Blaise that he long had forgotten. You made him feel energetic, as if there was nothing more amazing in the world than being in your presence and sharing a moment with you.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m not leaving after this week. I’m not leaving as long as you’ll allow me to stay. This club has become my escape just as books always have been and you have been my guide.” He explained. “You’ll stay?” You asked, barely above a whisper. “As long as you’ll have me.” Blaise spoke softly to you, your eyes meeting his, wide with the warmth of adoration and the softness of simple romance.

And where his words failed to express what he truly felt in his muddled moment, encased in worry and a desperate rush to get it all out, he made up for with gestures of his feelings instead. Leaning in, Blaise gently pressed you against the bookcase, carefully taking the book you held in your grasp and placing both of your books on the shelf beside you. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, words brushing softly against your lips, your heart fluttering and racing with the wild, unequivocal feelings of love. “Please.” It was a whisper, one that was not desperate nor rushed, but soft and sweet and accompanied by the way your lashes fluttered, eyes slowly sliding shut as Blaise closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours with a gentle touch.

His kiss was slow and sweet, his thumb coming up to rest against your cheek as he held you, one hand at the nape of your neck and the other resting at your waist. His lips captured yours in a moment of slow, amative bliss, kissing you tenderly until you found yourself breathless, your delicate fingers grasping at the edges of his Slytherin robes.

Slowly parting from you, just enough to catch your gaze, Blaise smiled softly. You felt stunned, but in the best of ways, mind reeling with thoughts and feelings of love. You supposed there had always been something so peaceful about sharing time together to read, but even more so now that you had allowed your feelings to feel.

“I got you something.” Neville said shyly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he held out a beautiful old copy of The Secret Garden for Theo to take, the brunette grinning at his friend before taking it from him. “You shouldn’t.” He shook his head, unable to stop himself from beaming at the kind gesture. “Thank you. I’ll read it with you next week.” Theo said, gently patting Neville’s shoulder. “You’re not leaving the club?” Neville asked, his voice full of hope. Theo glanced around the group, his eyes landing on Cho and Neville. “Nah, I have a feeling that even if I tried to leave I’d end up back here anyway.” He grinned, the three of them sharing great delight as Neville pulled Theo in for an unexpected, though appreciated hug.

“I suppose you’ll go back to bullying us again, will you?” Hermione asked Draco as she began to pack her bag. Draco eyed her, his glare softening. It was not love he felt, more something like the beginnings of a friendship. His eyes travelled around the room, falling onto you and Blaise for a moment and then over to Theo and his new found friendships. Attending the club had been a punishment and while Draco had acted as if he hated it, he knew that beyond his usually brooding and snarky behaviour, he had begun to hold the club in high regards. “No.” Draco said simply. “No?” Ginny asked, looking up at him with a challenging stare. “I can’t bully people I like, can I?” He sneered, and while it came out rather unfriendly, they all knew that he was being sincere. That Draco had actually grown fond of you all. “Will you come back next week?” Hermione asked. “We’ll see, Granger.” Were his last words to her before he pulled his bag onto his shoulder and took his leave.

“I’ll walk you back to your common room, sweetheart.” Blaise said, waiting until you had pulled your robes back on before he gently took your hand in his. “And perhaps we can plan a date?” He added, watching as your smile became uncontrollable and you giggled in your flustered, shy state, overwhelmed but in the best of ways. “I’d love that.”

And with that, Blaise pulled you close. He put his arm around your shoulders, his hand leaning down to hold your hand as you made your way out of the library as a pair, but not for the last time. There would be many more times, your hand in his each time. And you counted yourself lucky, because you had found love between the pages and it was undeniably real.

Blaise Zabini Taglist (OPEN):

@paintballkid711 @megantje123 @chaotic-fae-queen @slytherinwh0re @frecklesandfirecrackers @starofthedawn @mingyuahjumma @dracosaccount @90smalfoy @fuckingdraco @loving-life-my-way @cpetrova @miraclesoflove @struggling-bee @weasleywhore @little-me204 @dreaming-about-fanfictions @eli-malfoy-asf @ur-local-reality-shifter @voidmalfoy @wh0re4blaise @cherie-draco @lazypeachsoul @sistheselenophile @sw33tgirl