#but some days it is nOT a box some days it is a swirling black void where a person should be and you might like

[simmonsized]

I've fallen down the rabbit hole of watching raising dion and tbh so far I'm really enjoying it like. There's this kind of perception around the ways to be a perfect parent and this takes that and hits it with a broom because there is no such thing as perfect because parenthood is so messy and on top of that they deal so well with grief and the messy complicated completely nonlinear experience of grief and balancing that while raising a child as a single parent even with a support system and not even mentioning the super powers thing it's just

Really interesting idk

If it's been cancelled please nobody tell me I'm living my best life and I don't want my parade rained on just yet

[buryustogether]

lilac - chapter 5

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: finally, you’re completely, and utterly, alone. but not for long.

wc: 5.2k

tags/warnings: domestic dispute, throwing objects, swearing, breakup, displacement, tooth-rotting fluff

author’s note: seatbelts on please

What woke you the next morning was not heavy, thick arms leaden with muscles, or kisses pressed to your temple with full lips that were curved up into a gentle, tired smile, but rather the alarming buzz of your phone right beside your head. Your eyes opened to stare at the little black box sitting on your pillow inches from your face, the screen bright with an alert that commanded your attention. Grumbling into the pillow and throwing your leg over the empty space beside you, not giving much attention to the fact that your boyfriend should have been there, you grabbed blindly at the phone and brought it to your face.

What you saw pulled you straight from whatever bleariness held you captive.

News stations, shaky cell phone footage, helicopter captures - they all showed the same thing all across every social platform available. An apartment building in Brooklyn had been… well. You didn’t quite know what to call it. Neither did anyone else. The structure of the building had been changed entirely, the very foundation rocked to its core. Floors had been tilted sideways in gravity-defying angles, graffiti no one could decipher had been sprayed and inked along its uneven walls. And to everyone’s horror, the walls and windows and roof seemed to all be glitching, like a television caught between channels. It shook and jumped when officials came too close, threatening to move by itself again and swallow them whole.

No one knew quite what to do. They were calling it a feat of a new villain, the work of a molecular mastermind.

You tapped a news coverage of the strange building, now wide awake and all the sleep cleared from your eyes. The video began to load, that gray little circle swirling around and around… before your phone died and the screen went black.

Releasing a long, growl-like groan of exasperation, you angrily clawed at your charger and plugged your phone in. You tossed off your covers and rubbed at your eye with the palm of your hand, attempting to run through your day. It was some minor holiday - you couldn’t remember which - so school was out, and you had today off from the club, so you were free to do as you wished.

Well, as you sort of wished. Grocery shopping, cleaning the apartment, doing laundry… since god knew Ferris didn’t do any of it.

Your attention was drawn to the front room of the apartment when you heard the door open and closed, followed by a pair of voices. One, you recognized. The other, you did not. Following the soft murmurs and laughter into the main room, you found Ferris and his new keyboard player leaning against the kitchen counter, passing your jug of milk back and forth between them. The girl spotted you standing in the doorway first, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you watching them like a predator who had cornered two rabbits who were too stupid to be paying attention. She set the jug down on the counter and plastered on a small smile.

“Hi,” she said and waved a hand in your direction.

Ferris glanced up, following her gaze, and almost seemed to stop himself from jumping when he caught your slitted eyes watching him. He reached up to wipe at his lip with his sleeve, clearing his throat. “Hey, babe,” he said, but there was no kind of affection in his tone. It was all guilt and regret for being caught in what he seemed to think was a furtive meet up with his new fucking keyboard player.

As you stared at the two, as you stared at your half-emptied jug of milk sitting on the counter, you felt your chest tightening more and more until there was hardly any room left for you to breathe. Your blood was frozen in your veins, flooding your body with a chilly kind of fire. Every single fiber of your being was alight, fueling the fire that had sparked to life in your chest.

A part of you wanted to play dumb. A part of you wanted to pretend you had no idea what this was, go along with whatever kind of game he was playing because, if you didn’t, you’d be alone.

But that other part of you, that bigger, hulking, furious part of you knew you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t play this part any longer, couldn’t memorize this script while you were also the one writing it and directing the whole show. This stupid fucking costume didn’t fit anymore. The stage wasn’t set any longer.

The show was fucking over.

Like she was sensing the oncoming storm brewing in your home, the girl shuffled on her feet toward the door. “I think I’ll just show myself out,” she said. She started to say goodbye to your boyfriend, beginning to raise a hand, before she caught the dangerous gleam in your eye and slipped out without another word.

As soon as she left, you crossed the room into the kitchen. Ferris regarded you with an unreadable expression. You thought that, maybe, a bit of that furrowed brow was guilt. Fear. You liked the idea of him being afraid of you. But you didn’t allow yourself to indulge in such a thought. For now, all that you could think of was this rage building and building in your throat. That - and the fucking dishes in the sink.

A couple of plates, a few spoons, and a fork. Stuck for days in this porcelain bowl while the dishes in the washer got themselves dirty again.

All this time. All this… effort. And for what? Nothing but a couple dishes left in the sink and this fire growing in your belly.

From behind you, Ferris shuffled himself awkwardly and swallowed thick. “I, uh… I thought you’d already left for work.”

You pursed your lips, feeling tears prod at the corners of your eyes as you stared at the faucet. Silently, you took the deepest breath you could, brought up every ounce of courage that you found within yourself.

You didn’t care if you were going to be alone anymore. You just wanted this to be over.

“I am so fucking done with you.”

For a long, long while, there was only the sound of silence in your apartment. Downstairs a few flights, a dog barked madly. Outside, car horns blared. Thunder rolled in the distance, bringing with it the promise of pouring rain and lightning that would light the sky alight with a fire unmatched.

Ferris said, “What?”

“I said - “ You reached into the skin and grabbed one of the plates, your fingers dipping into the water gathered at the bottom, then spun around on your heel and launched it directly at his head. “I’M DONE WITH YOU!”

He just barely dodged the projectile, his gaze swinging around with it as it sailed through the air and shattered into thousands of pieces against the wall. They scattered like bullet casings, twisting about your bare feet.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he shouted, lifting a foot to stare at the pieces. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

You picked your way across the tile floor, tiptoeing around the glinting shards, then jumped into the hallway and stormed back toward the bedroom. As you threw the door open all the way, surely leaving a dent in your wall, you heard him following you.

You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t give a fuck.

As rain droplets began to tick against your windows, you heaved the closet door open, grabbed a pile of his clothes from his side, and tossed them out onto the floor. A number of his shoes followed, dropping limply to the hardwood as you continued to scrounge for more of his belongings.

Ferris grabbed onto the door frame as he came to a stop before you, watching with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as you emptied your closet of his things. “Hey, hey, hey! What the fuck are you doing?!”

Once you were satisfied you’d gotten everything from the closest, you stalked over to his side of the bed and began to rip everything out of its place. His phone charger, his nightstand trinkets, everything that looked and smelled and seemed like him.

His hand came from behind to grab your shoulder, and before you could stop yourself, you flung yourself around and smacked him hard across the face. Before he had a chance to react, to even raise a hand to his cheek, you felt tears spill down your cheeks as you yelled, “Get out! I want you out!”

“Oh, come on, nothing was going to happen -”

“Oh!” you shouted, then stormed past him, out from the bedroom, and into the hallway. He followed close behind, watching as you grabbed his hoodie from where it was slung over the back of the couch and tossed it to the floor. “You’re so fucking stupid, Ferris, you don’t - You don’t get it!”

He stopped you as you made to head for the bathroom next, holding you by your shoulders so tight your skin ached and his knuckles paled. “What?” he demanded, sporting a fleshy red mark on his face where you’d struck him. “Don’t fucking get what?”

“Everything!” you howled, feeling as tears cascaded down your cheeks to your chin. From there, they traveled down your neck and to your collar. “Fucking everything, Ferris! The way you bring people into our home, the way you never help with the bills, the - Jesus, the FUCKING DISHES IN THE SINK! Would it kill you to put away the fucking dishes?!” Ripping yourself from his hold, you reached up to weakly wipe at your tears. “I gave you so many chances, so many. So many signs…! And you never saw them. You never fucking saw them. So I’m giving you one now that you won’t be able to miss. Get. Out.”

For a long moment, Ferris only stared at you. You weren’t able to identify the expression playing his features, but it certainly was not the one that always stared you down on the regular. And you basked in it. Then suddenly he was moving, grasping your shoulders, coming close enough to show that his bottom lip was quivering. Normally you would have wrapped him up in a hug, held him close.

But now you wanted him as far away from you as possible.

“Hey, hey,” he said lowly, sounding strangely sweet. “Just take a breath, alright? Deep breath. We don’t have to do this right now. We’ll get this all cleaned up, sit down, take a break. And we’ll talk it out just like we always do, right?”

“There’s no talking about this, Ferris,” you sniffled, trying to push him away. “There were so many times to sit down and have a goddamn conversation, and you never wanted to. So what makes you think I would sit down and talk this out with you?”

Ferris held on tight despite you trying to get away from him, holding you so that your chests were pressed together. A chill crawled up your spine as you remembered last night; the neon glow of the lights, the feeling of Spiderman’s muscles beneath his shirt, the sensations that crawled across your body when he sighed and held you close.

How fucking pathetic was it that you felt safer in a stranger’s arms than in your own boyfriend’s?

“Because we always work things out, baby,” he said, pulling your attention back to his face. His eyes had faded pink like he was the one that was about to cry - like he was the one who was allowed to cry - and he rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Right? We always come around. We - we can start over, okay? Forget about the band, and - and that Miguel guy always texting you, and our jobs, and everything. We’ll move, okay? Fresh starts.”

You regarded him with wide eyes, your lips parted and curled upwards in a sneer that you didn’t think you were capable of. A new, fresh kind of feeling entered your veins, one like ice water had replaced your blood. You released a low, disgusted sound from the back of your throat and clasped a hand over your throat. “You - have you been going through my phone?”

Ferris pursed his lips - a tell he had that his anger was starting to flare up. “Only to keep you safe,” he urged. When you finally shoved him away and turned, he burst. “And good thing I have been, too, huh?! That creep is practically stalking you! Texting every other night, asking you to meet up -”

“Because of his fucking kid!” you howled, then grabbed the television remote and threw it at his head. He must have seen your windup, because he ducked, letting the projectile sail over his head and smack against the couch behind him. “He’s a father, you fucking dickhead - his kid is my goddamn student! I’ve been tutoring her! Not going out on dates with the guy! How selfish can you be?!”

“You and I both know those aren’t texts of some shitty-ass ‘well to do’ pops,” he threw back when he’d returned to his full height. “Asking how you’re doing in the middle of the night? While you’re at work? Real classy, that guy is. Trying to fuck his kid’s teacher.”

“Will you get out already!” Tears rivered down your cheeks as you hugged yourself, bare feet freezing against the hardwood floor and heart thundering in your ears loud enough to triumph the rain that had begun its pounding on the windows. “Get the fuck out of my apartment!”

Ferris stared at you for a long, long while, his chest heaving and his eyes ablaze with some kind of emotion you could not place. For a moment or two, you thought briefly that he was going to strike you. But then he stooped to grab his hoodie and stormed past you. Broken pieces of plate crunched under his shoes as he threw open the front door. “Call me when you’re ready to talk like an adult,” he said over his shoulder, then left you alone.

So incredibly, utterly, terrifyingly alone.

Slowly, as the blood rushing in your ears faded away, the noises of the outside world returned. The dog downstairs was still barking. The cars were still honking. The rain was pounding, and the thunder was rolling, and you were sobbing.

Contorting your mouth into a cry as a broken wail escaped your lips, you let yourself sink down to the cold floor and hung your head in your lap. Your systems were all fried, your brain on break. The only thing you could do was sit there in a heap and cry, shaking amidst the absolute mess you’d made of your home.

What seemed like hours later, and when you found yourself all out of tears, you sat up and stared at an empty place across the room. You’d finally, actually, truly done it. You’d kicked him out, opened your chest and shown him just how many bullet wounds you’d been carrying from every time he pulled that trigger of a tongue. He was gone. And you intended to keep it that way.

White noise invaded your ears as you set to work, allowing the rest of the world to fade away. You swept up the shattered pieces of porcelain on the kitchen floor; when you picked up a larger piece that had tried to get away from you, you realized it reminded you of your monarch mask from the club. You let it drop to the ground, and then you cleaned up those pieces, as well.

Next you emptied your box of trash bags and dragged them behind you as you traveled your apartment room to room, corner to corner, clearing out everything that belonged to Ferris. His clothes, his utilities and trinkets and prized possessions - they all went into the bags. And those bags were hauled downstairs and placed in the corner beside the trash. The guitar was leaned up against them. When you went back down half an hour later to throw out his food you hated the leftovers he’d been letting rot, it was gone.

Maybe those strings could make someone better than him happier than he was.

When the entire place was cleared of him, you dug through your wallet and the secret stash you kept in the sole of one of your ratty shoes and went to knock on your landlord’s door. The locks on yours were changed in less than an hour.

And when you finally felt safe enough to breathe in your own air again, you cleaned your entire home. Floor to ceiling, you mopped and wiped down and sprayed until every single trace of him was gone. The sheets were changed. The couch cushions washed. Every single piece of grime and dirt he’d brought into your life was gone.

And you couldn’t have been more glad.

Ferris had been a stain on your life, one you hadn’t necessarily wanted to clean and get rid of. If you did, it meant that you’d be left with a blank slate, with the echo of what you used to have. But echoes were meant to fade away. And blank slates were meant to be filled with new things. Bigger, better, brighter things.

It must have been late evening, after the rain had finally calmed and the thunder moved south, when you were pulled from the little dinner you were making yourself by a knock on the door. Your head whipped around, systems on high alert, thinking it was Ferris. You stayed perfectly still and silent.

There came another, slightly more frantic knock, followed by a call of your name. But it wasn’t Ferris on the other side. “Hello?” said Miguel O’Hara. “Are you home?”

For the first time today, since the moment you’d opened your eyes this morning, a certain kind of warmth blossomed throughout your chest. Setting the stove to low, you crossed the little kitchen, unchained your new locks, and swung the door open. The sight that greeted you was not the one you realized you were expecting.

Both Miguel and Gabriella were soaked to the bone, creating a puddle at your doorstep, and each hauling a small load of baggage over their shoulders. Their matching eyes were tired, exhausted. The little girl was shivering through her wet clothes, and her father tugged her closer to his side in an attempt to keep her warm.

“Hey,” murmured Miguel when your alarmed gaze flickered to meet his.

“Oh, my god,” you said, then stepped aside so that they could enter. “Get inside, please. Come on.” You watched as they trudged into your kitchen, lugging their things with them. “What the hell happened?” you asked, forgetting your mouth in front of your third grader.

Miguel dropped his bag down beside the door as you shut and locked it, releasing a long, weighted sigh from the back of his throat. He dipped his head down and palmed at the back of his neck as he turned to face you. “The apartment,” he said shortly, and suddenly you understood. The apartment building this morning in Brooklyn that had been disfigured by… whatever. It had been theirs.

How long had they been out in this?

“Jesus,” you said, kneeling down to grab a clean dish rag and towel Gabriella’s soaking hair. She sniffed tightly as you did so, her large, brown eyes shut to the sensation of your hands moving across her head. Poor fucking kid - displaced by whatever new freak incident New York had to offer this week.

“I tried to call you,” said Miguel from where he stood over you.

Your heart sunk slightly in your chest. “I’m so sorry,” you said as you stood, clutching the towel to your chest. God, even with all that excess water weighing him down, he still towered over you like a mountain. You were able to see his midsection through his wet shirt; but you didn’t let yourself go there. Not now. “I’ve been busy all day. Something - something happened, and…”

He met your eyes, limp hair hanging in his face to frame his temples, his cheekbones, his finely-cut jaw. A drop of water fell from the squared point of his chin, landing on the top of your bare foot. It sent a shiver racing in a mad dash up your spine. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to you, and you were able to feel his warm breath fan across your face. Christ, when had you gotten this close? “We didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Don’t do that.” Against your better judgment, because today had been a day of going against every wall and boundary you knew, you reached up to ghost your fingers along his jaw. You swore you heard his breath hitch in his throat as he blinked down at you. “You can stay as long as you need to. Both of you.” You swallowed, clenching your jaw against the screaming, searing sensation that wanted you to lean forward and connect your lips to his. “I don’t care if it’s days or weeks or months. You and she will always have a home here.”

This was insane. You could get fired from your job if the board found out you were doing this. But you didn’t care. As of now, your mind had long since run away, and you weren’t in much of a rush to catch it. Because if it felt this good to be out of your head, then by god, did you want to stay like this forever.

Miguel’s head tipped down ever so slightly and his throat moved as he swallowed thick. He had just opened his lips to whisper something in reply when your attention was pulled to the side, reminding you that you were not the only ones here.

“Daddy,” said Gabriella, looking just miserable standing there in a puddle of the water dripping off of her. “I’m really cold.”

Pulling away with a quick glance, Miguel stooped to pull his daughter into his arms. “I know, princesa,” he murmured as he held her, smoothing back hair that had stuck to her face. “We’ll get you warmed up.”

“The bathroom’s just down there,” you said, pointing down the hall. “You can run her a bath, if she wants. I’ll grab her something to wear.”

Nodding his thanks, he carried her and one of her bags down the hall and into the bathroom. A few minutes after the door softly clicked shut, you heard the water begin to run. You leaned against the countertop, staring at the bags gathering water by your front door.

This was happening. This was happening. Miguel O’Hara was going to be staying in your home. After dreaming and fantasizing all this time, he was finally within arm’s reach.

But your quiet comprehension was muted by the cold slap of reality. He wasn’t here for pleasure; he was here out of necessity. Out of survival. He and his daughter wouldn’t have a home for god knew how long; this wasn’t some dream come true. It was a tragedy.

On quiet feet, because you thought you heard Gabriella sniffling from the bathroom as she and her father talked in hushed tones, you crept into your room and retrieved an oversized sweatshirt and some shorts that she would be able to drawstring tight. After leaving them by the restroom door, you took her and Miguel’s things into the bedroom and laid out what little lay inside to dry; some of his spare clothes, a laptop, legal documents… anything and everything they could have been able to grab before they were evacuated. Staring at a framed picture of Gabriella when she couldn’t have been older than three or four, you wondered just what had caused the strange phenomenon that destroyed their home. Had it been an accident? Or had something targeted taken place?

You wondered if Spiderman was trying to take care of it.

After laying out their belongings to dry on your bed, you hurried back to the kitchen and scrambled to make your dinner enough for three people to share. You hoped they liked store-brand mac and cheese.

Some time later, after you’d heard your hair dryer running for a while, Miguel and Gabriella emerged from your restroom. She looked tiny in your old pajamas, but she seemed content with the way the long sleeves flopped about her arms and the hoodie framed her face like a curtain. He’d also changed into a spare set of clothes he must have had in the bag - a loose pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that stretched in the most perfect way across his well-defined pecs. You couldn’t help but stare for a moment longer than necessary when they wandered back into the kitchen, following their noses to the plates waiting for them.

“Hope you two are hungry,” you said as you gave them each their dinner. “Gabriella, honey, the remote is on the arm of the couch, if you want to watch TV while you eat.”

After waiting for a nod from her father, she took her plate and scurried over to your couch. A moment later, your apartment was filled with the quiet sounds of cartoons.

Miguel released a long, deep sigh from the pit of his stomach as he leaned back against the kitchen counter with you, crossing his bare feet at the ankles. How funny it was, how beautifully ironic, how quickly this had become an idyllic scene of domestication. “I really can’t tell you how much this helps us,” he said, pushing mac and cheese around with his fork. His thick, full brows pinched together as he lost himself in thought. You noticed that when he did, a little line appeared at the corner of his mouth. “It all happened so quickly. Just…”

“Hey.” Again going against what your brain tried to pull you away from, you placed the hand that wasn’t holding your bowl over his wrist. Despite having been soaked just a short time ago, his tan skin was warm beneath your own. When your fingers slid down, you felt the soft twitch of his pulse. “It’s alright, Miguel. You’re here now. She’s safe.” You gave him a small, crooked smile. “It’ll be okay.”

He held your gaze for a long while, so long that you felt your heart skip a beat, and when it did, he released a small chuckle - like he could hear it. Finally, you both looked down to push around at your dinners. He did not ask you about the absence of your boyfriend that you had told him pushed you out of your own home that day at the library. You were sure a keen man like him could pick up on a few things; how there were no belongings of another man here, how there were dents in the walls where you’d thrown items and slammed doors.

He didn’t ask, and you were glad. It seemed, in a way, he knew.

You loved that he did.

Behind you, the sound of a speaker being fiddled with pulled your heads around. Gabriella had discovered the little record player on your shelf - a gift to yourself a year or two ago. You hadn’t played it much, what with Ferris’ constant complaining about it. But as you watched the little girl gingerly place a vinyl down on the player, you realized you’d been missing out.

“Ay,” scolded Miguel and set down his bowl. “Manos a ti mismo.”

“It’s okay,” you said, then moved into the living room to help her with the settings. “I haven’t used this thing in forever.”

Seemingly still a little shell shocked from the events of the day, Gabriella watched you shyly as you dropped the needle and suddenly, music was spilling from the speakers. It wasn’t the kind of music your old boyfriend played on that guitar of his; this was real, with heart and feeling and a kind of rhythm that pulled your heart slightly from the abyss it was stuck in.

‘Hey, what’s the matter with your head, yeah?’

And then, because fuck, you couldn’t think of anything else to do, and because your feet were suddenly moving on their own, you started dancing. You swayed back and forth to the beat of the song, to the bass and the melody, wiggling your head a bit.

“Come on, pretty girl,” you said, taking Gabriella’s small hands in yours. “Will you show me that beautiful smile and dance with me?”

Slowly, gingerly, like a bit of her fiery, lively soul was returning to her, Gabriella’s lips thinned into a smile. She let you pull her around the living room, beginning to copy your movements as she grinned and giggled. Her limbs were sluggish and awkward, a wonderful testament to the mere nine years she’d been on the earth, but her laughter and her tongue poking through the place where she’d recently lost a tooth made up for it. Lyrics like directions to your awful little dance spewed from the shelf where the record player sat, witness to the show in your home.

‘Baby, find it, come on and find it.’

You spun on your heel to face Miguel, who was standing at the entrance of your kitchen, watching the scene before him with parted lips and hooded eyes that made your stomach turn violently and passionately. Shuffling closer to him and bringing forth every ounce and inch of courage you hand, you took your hands and wiggled up close. You breathed out the next lyrics in a sing-songy whisper only he could hear.

“Bear with it, baby, ‘cause you’re fine, and you’re mine, and you look so divine.”

Miguel’s head tilted to the side in that way he did, gaze wider now and the beginnings of a low, enthralled smile twisting his lips. Then his feet were moving, allowing you to pull him into the living room with Gabriella to join your little dance.

While she twisted and spun and pretended to know the words, you felt his fingers interlace with yours. You grinned, because holy fuck - what else in the world was there to do? - and let him sway you back and forth with the thrum of the song, fronts just inches apart and legs already tangled together. He began to hum the song from the back of his throat, from the bottom of his belly, and you swore you’d never heard a better sound in your life.

When Gabriella had turned away, too caught up in her own world of the song, Miguel leaned in close so that his cheek brushed yours, so that your chests were pressed together, so that his full lips grazed the shell of your ear. He murmured so softly you strained to hear him over the swell of the music, but you did.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered.

Then he pulled back away to bore his gaze down into your own, his forehead just barely grazing yours.

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t trust yourself to say nothing, because you might have just shrunk into yourself and disappeared into the very tingling, overwhelming ache and pang of want and need and everything else in your heart. Didn’t trust yourself to open your mouth, because you might have just leaned up and kissed him.

So you just pressed your forehead up into his, smiled so bright and so wide your cheeks hurt, and danced.

tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick @natthernandez @bakgoktski @soupsexsunsalutationsss @roxannarichie @lovagirlxxx @soggyeyeballsss @yoyoyoyoyo55555 @sophipet @quaintii @lavnderluv @cookiezxx @euphorica @its-a-polyglot @nicalysm @maxi-ride @exzidss @crappwr0m @femme-is-dead @bitch-onthemoon @hier—soir @takayomi @kirke-is-my-name @d1lf-loverrr @might-be-a-rat @brooks-lin @maki-z @bookfreakk @act1839 @dollscircus @sleepingaway @anxietybutterfly @bioticboot @mxkn @freeingrebels @digitalcreature404 @aimee777 @hunnaye @blahbahed @cyanide-mustard @impettywhenyouare @mental-illness-is-my-friend @bobfood @jenniferdixon05207 @moonchild-cupcake @venomous-ko @marvelouslovely-barnes @syarblu @fruitcupsworld @soooooyesbutactually-no @hopefulcandywitch @elwyn7 @oh-theseus @thepanwiccan @takayomi @dreamingofbucky @yuuuumii @p1nkliquor @scammer-get-scammed @mlishe

[bucketsofmonsters]

Deep Water - Part 1

cw: the ocean, talk of being drowned, water inhalation, more tags to be added as the story continues

merman x fem reader

Word count: 3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You peeked out a small porthole, a rarity on this kind of ship. You couldn’t decide if you were grateful for it or not as your stomach churned looking out at choppy waters. 

You’d never been particularly comfortable with the ocean. It wasn’t that you disliked it, far from it. You just had a healthy fear of it. 

Right now, it felt like anyone who didn’t was a fool. 

As you looked down at swirling black water, swearing you saw something snake around just far enough under the surface that you couldn’t make it out, that fear felt very reasonable. 

It wasn’t only fear that consumed you when you looked out at that churning water. There was awe in there too, as you looked at the seemingly infinite abyss below you. 

But not enough awe that you wouldn’t keep yourself as far away from it as you could. 

But that was the problem. Fate had thrusted you right into deep waters and you’d had no choice in the matter. 

So there you were, stowed away on a transport ship, tucked amongst boxes of spices and herbs and expensive teas that you’d never get to try. 

At least your hidden little corner smelled good, some of the herbal scents escaping their carefully packed boxes. 

You sat back down behind them, trying to put the thought of the turbulent waters under a few thin layers of wood out of your mind as the waves rocked you back and forth at a sickening pace, never quite stabilizing enough to be able to fall into a rhythm, refusing to be tuned out or ignored. 

You pulled your shawl tighter around you, though it was no use. The chill of the ship had long since set itself into your bones. 

You closed your eyes and tried to tell if it was raining or if it was just the darkness of the night blanketing the ocean. The sounds of the waves roared above anything else. You decided it wasn’t, more for your own peace of mind than anything. You didn’t need water coming at you from any more directions.

As you sat, curled up on the floor trying to focus on anything other than the deafening crashing of the waves, a new sound caught your attention. The door creaked open and as footsteps approached you, you held your breath. 

They’d caught you on an exhale and sooner than you would’ve liked, you had to sneak a tiny breath of air. Nothing noticeable, surely. Not through the sounds of crashing water. 

And then the ship slammed to the side, a massive wave sending the ground tilting under your feet.

The boxes slid as the ship wretched and you went with them, slamming into the opposite wall of the ship.  

The sailor cursed as he pushed his way out from behind the boxes that had slid right into him. You scrambled to push yourself away, to obscure yourself in any way possible. You didn’t have time to stand but maybe you could hide yourself just far enough away in the dark that he wouldn’t see you. 

You weren’t fast enough. 

His hand snaked out to grab your leg, ending your desperate scramble to get away before it had even really begun. 

“No wonder we got stuck in this god-awful storm, found our bad luck charm right here.”

You kicked at him, trying to struggle, to get away, to run. But where was there to go? They knew you were here now, it was over. You were at their mercy. 

The pleading started as soon as it sunk in, desperate promises that you wouldn’t cause any trouble, that it was only a day until they docked, you could stay out of their way, they wouldn’t even notice you. 

Rain poured down on your face as you were dragged above deck. 

Part of you was aware of the talk that began to arise as the others caught sight of you. You couldn’t focus on anything other than getting away, trying with everything you had to run. 

Despite that, you were pulled closer and closer to the edge of the ship. The rain got saltier and through the dark and endless storm, you realized you were at the edge of the ship, briny water splashing over the sides and hitting you in the face. 

You doubled your attempts of escape as you looked down on the dark waters, not sure where you would go if you escaped but certain that anything was better than being pulled closer and closer to the inky waters. 

“This is your own fault,” one of them yelled over the storm, directed at you this time.

“Please,” you called out, “Please let me stay. I’ll do anything.”

It was an ill-advised promise, especially to make to a ship full of sailors, but you could not be thrown overboard. You’d even prefer one of them ending you here and now, with your feet still standing on the wood of the deck.

Anything but being thrown off, your lungs filling with the churning, black water below you. 

“You should have thought of that before you stowed away,” the man to your left said, with what sounded almost like a chuckle. You hoped you’d imagined it amongst the rest of the endless noise. 

It was hard to know exactly what was happening. The waves were roaring and you could hardly see or hear anything. 

One second your feet were thrashing, fighting to land a blow on any of the men near you, and the next you were underwater. If you thought gathering your bearings was hard on the ship, it was impossible down here. It must be nearby but you had no idea where the ship could be. You fought to stay afloat despite knowing exactly how this would end. There was nothing else to it now. You’d landed in your cold, wet grave. The waves forced you under again and again and no matter how you tried to time your breaths, you couldn’t escape the burn of the saltwater sneaking into your lungs. 

Just as you’d breached the surface again, attempting to cough up some water before heaving in another deadly breath, something yanked at your foot and you were pulled under the waves once more. Your scream was drowned out by the ocean, eyes fighting to open despite the sting of the seawater. 

As you opened your eyes, you realized it was calmer under the water. You were no longer trying to fight the wishes of the waves to pull you down and the ocean rewarded you with a moment of clarity. 

The rockiest part was near the surface, where the rain still beat down on the water. You were being pulled further and further away, so far down that the last rays of sun from behind the clouds could barely reach. 

You’d expected to see a shark or some other ocean creature as you’d felt that tug on your leg. Instead, you found a face staring back at yours. He looked curious, taking you in as you stared dumbfounded back at him. 

Before you had a chance to process what you were seeing, the man who’d just pulled you under the waves leaned forward and kissed you. It wasn’t a long kiss, ending before you even fully realized it began. 

He pulled away and your lungs began to burn, pleading for oxygen. You tried to swim up for air but he grabbed your arm and yanked you down again. Then you caught a glimpse of something below him, the limited light reflecting off of a shimmering tail.

You gasped in water, your lungs unable to hold out any longer. Instead of choking on the ocean water filling your chest, you felt like you were gasping in air. You knew it was water, the texture was different than the air was, but as you heaved in water, you discovered you could breathe. 

He was smirking at you, the smugness evident in his face. 

He let go of your arm, having proved his point and you stayed under, filling your lungs while glancing up at the rocky surface. 

Suddenly, you were being pulled along again, under the stormy water. You didn’t have the strength to fight him, letting him take you wherever he wanted. 

It wasn’t long before you were being pushed into shallow water. You could feel the sand barely a few feet under the water and eagerly moved towards dry land. 

You pulled yourself up onto the warm sand. The rain had disappeared entirely, the sun shining above you once more. You sucked in air, falling to your back as you basked in the warmth. Off in the distance, you could see the storm still swirling. You’d traveled much further than you’d thought. The feeling of the sun shining down on you was more than welcome and some wretched part of you hoped those sailors were still in that accursed storm. 

As soon as you got your first breath of oxygen, it was like your lungs remembered that water wasn't supposed to be inside of them. You started coughing up the salty water onto the shore, gasping like you’d been drowning the whole time and just hadn’t realized it yet. 

You saw your savior wince as you hacked up the seawater. “Sorry, didn’t know that would happen.”

You stared up at him incredulously as your breathing finally slowed. “Aren't sirens supposed to drown humans?”

His eyes narrowed at you above the water. “Aren’t humans supposed to be grateful when you save them?”

Fair enough. “Thank you. I don’t really understand why you saved me but thank you.”

You laid back on the sand, inevitably getting it in your hair but too exhausted to mind. The warmth was welcome after the freezing cold water. 

You took him in from your new vantage point, eyes darting instinctively to his tail. It was a pearlescent thing, the complex shimmering shifting above his white scales. Just above it was a set of gills that he kept below the water as he lay there, staring up at you on the shore. His face wasn’t unpleasant, something almost impish about it. A smattering of scales sat on his cheekbones right under eyes that were tinted orange. His hair was shaggy and pale, dragged down to his shoulders by the water that saturated it. 

“We do drown people sometimes,” he said quietly, like he was working it out for himself and you just happened to be overhearing it. “I was planning on going after your ship but it didn’t feel like a fair fight after they threw you off like that.” 

“Humans didn’t want me, sirens didn’t even want to drown me.” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I can… I can drown you if you want?” he said, mouth barely above the water as he spoke. 

“Maybe some other time. Where even are we?” you asked, looking around at the small patch of sand. It was a relatively barren little island, a few rocky tidepools on the other side of it the most exciting thing present on the small stretch of land.

“Just a little island nearby. I figured you’d want to get some rest before I took you anywhere. Why’d they throw you overboard anyway?”

“I was a stowaway,” you explained. “I needed to get somewhere and didn’t have any other way to travel. They found me mid storm and women are bad luck so off I went.”

“I can take you there if you want. Where the ship was going, I mean. I know all their routes. I won’t even drown you.”

Who would have guessed that the sailors would try to drown you and then you’d have a siren promising to bring you ashore? It was like the world had turned upside down. 

“Thank you so much,” you said, hoping it could both convey your gratitude and keep him on your good side long enough to successfully get you to your destination.

“Also, we should wait until night, I’ll take you back then okay?” He sounded very insistent, despite you having no idea why. 

You were honestly worried you might freeze to death if you left at night. “How about in the morning?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He waited eagerly, watching the sun set. It was refreshing, being able to see it clearly after locking yourself below deck for so long. When it finally dipped below the horizon, he turned to you. “Watch this.” 

His tail flicked excitedly behind him, a light glow starting to reflect off of the scales on his bottom half. 

As he ran his hands quickly through the water, you were able to make it out better. The water lit up a light blue as he moved. 

You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face, your eyes going wide with wonder. “Oh my god, that’s incredible.”

“Isn’t it? It’s why I like this island so much, it’s so strong here. It’s a bunch of tiny plants in the water that are glowing, I thought you’d like it.”

How could you not? You’d never seen anything like it in your life, it almost looked like the water was alight with a blue flame. 

You could feel your siren’s eyes on you as you moved your hand back and forth in the water. 

“Are you less sad now?” he asked and your movement slowed at his question. 

“What?”

“You were upset, did I fix it?”

Was that what he was trying to do? “Why do you care?”

He shrugged. “Not often I get to talk to you guys, our encounters are usually less pleasant than this. We’re kind of similar, you know. Sailors don’t like me either.”

“Small world.”

Eventually, you abandoned the glowing water, as amazing as it was, in an attempt to rest. You knew you needed to get some sleep. You were exhausted but it was cold and you never fully dried off and you were absolutely miserable. You heard a shuffling in the sand and then a warm hand touched your side. You didn’t know how his body regulated his temperature so well in the cold water. His arms were open, a clear invitation to nestle into him

You hesitated and he spoke. “You seem like you could use the warmth.”

You moved towards him, head settling on his chest as his arms wrapped around you.

“I thought fish were cold-blooded,” you said as his arms rubbed up and down yours, immediately sending a wave of heat through you.

“I’m only half fish.”

“Is that how you can breathe out here?” you asked, looking at the trail he left in the sand as he dragged himself ashore.

He murmured in the affirmative, leaning back to make sure you could comfortably lie down against him. He was right, his body heat did help. There was also something comforting about leaning against him, his arms wrapped around you protectively. 

You drifted off faster than you would have thought possible while soaking wet and cuddled up with a fish man. 

When you woke up, you glanced at the boy next to you. He really did look silly on the land like this, flopped over on his side. As you took him in, you stared at his gills right over where you assumed his ribs would be. You knew what he had told you last night but he looked too peaceful and still. You quickly nudged him awake, wanting to make sure he was alright out of the water like this.

He rubbed his eyes, moving slightly in the sand in an attempt to get a good look at you. “What do you want?”

“Just wanted to make sure you were still breathing.”

“Mmhmm, still breathing, can I go back to sleep now?”

He tried to roll over, tail flopping helplessly behind him, and you nudged him again. “Don’t we need to leave?”

He squinted up at your face, which you knew was creased with worry, and his demeanor softened. “Yeah, let’s get you home.”

You didn’t bother to correct him about where you were going, instead helping him back into the water. He pulled you in after him, looking back at you as he did, clearly deep in thought.

“You know how I kissed you yesterday?” he finally asked. 

“To make me breathe underwater? Yeah, I do.”

“It would be much easier to transport you if you could breathe underwater again.”

It was the most roundabout way anyone had ever asked to kiss you before, that was for sure. 

He seemed nervous about it so instead of letting him dwell on it, you just kissed him. You hoped there were no other rules to the kiss you needed to follow but your siren didn’t seem to mind, instead leaning into it. It was kind of nice, being the one to surprise him this time. 

You knew the kiss didn’t have to be long, the one from the day before had barely lasted a moment, and yet you lingered. His hand hesitantly rose to cup your cheek, his touch featherlight. He wasn’t holding you there but his touch begged you to stay just a second longer. 

He looked almost frightened when you pulled away, eyes wide and hand still outstretched. 

“Will that work?” you asked.

He cleared his throat, still looking dazed. “Yeah, that should be fine. Come on.”

Even knowing that you’d be fine and you’d be able to breathe, it took forever to will yourself to inhale after he pulled you into the water, waiting until the last second before you passed out, when your body forced breathing on you. 

The journey felt much faster than it should have been. You couldn’t have been zooming through the water for more than an hour when you were being pulled to the surface once more, your feet extending to find rocks beneath you. 

You turned and your eyes met the shore, the dock looming above you. You guessed you’d probably beat the ship here. Who knows if they’d made it at all, maybe the storm had taken them out. Part of you hoped it had. 

He grinned up at you as you stood, still lying below you in the water. “This is your stop.”

You had no idea how to thank him. What did one even say to someone who had just saved your life? 

“Thank you,” you managed. “If you ever need anything…”

If he ever needed anything what? You couldn’t imagine he’d have a particularly easy time finding you. 

He seemed to understand your meaning anyway. “I’ll be sure to ask. And if you ever change your mind on the drowning thing, let me know.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Will do.”

You settled on the shore, the rocks shifting beneath you as you sat, and you watched your siren swim off, one last shimmer of pale scales flashing before he disappeared into the waves.

[bunnybubae]

(M)🚦Red Light: The Allure | Ch3 [JJK]

👉🏻[Series Masterpost]

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (GymOwner!JK/MotoRacer!JK/Biker!JK-TattoArtist!OC)

Genre: S2L - Smut - Fluff - Angst

Summary: Jeon Jungkook never lets any distraction take him away from his motorcycle or his gym for more than one night. He just wants to speed around the track and feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins, the sex he gets thanks to his charm, is just a side dish to his life. A tough past brought him on that Ducati that he learned to love, a past  you’ll uncover, as you slowly seep in under his skin. It’s a hell of a ride, in all senses, as you try to escape your own hell in the meanwhile.  Where will this ride bring you? Will it be worth it in the end?

Chapter Warnings: mention of the toxic ex (again, unfortunately), still a lot of teasing and heavy flirting, JK in black CK undies yes, it is a warning, brief mention of weed,  alcohol consumption, brief thigh riding, rubbing in public environment, dry humping, oral sex (M/F receiving), praise kink, protected sex, one (1) slap on the ass, rough sex.

Wc: 11.7k

A/N: Hello there! I hope you guys still want to read this story, cause CH3 is finally out! As always, I'm sorry if there are some grammatical mistakes, english isn't my first language and I don't have a beta, so pls bear with me! 🫶🏻 Let me know what are your thoughts about the story, my box is always open! - Joy 🐰

December 8th, Friday

You're glad it didn't pour down all day.

The night sky is clear and the smell of rain permeates in the air. You look through the car window covered in droplets as Hani chats with the driver.

You're too busy looking at scattered puddles on the asphalt reflecting the surrounding lights to pay attention to whatever the uber driver is saying.

The only thing troubling your mind right now is the last message you received. You had already blocked Ray's number a long time ago, but no one else would ever dream of sending you a similar message. The scumbag must have changed it.

You check your phone screen once again, almost hopeful that the content of the message is now different or even better, gone.

Unknown Number:- Have fun tn.

You tighten the coat you're wearing around your figure, as if that would be enough to make you feel safe.

Three words were enough to disgust you to the core. Well done Ray.

His intent is clear: he hopes to ruin your evening with this message, he wants you to feel out of place and you know pretty well that behind those seemingly innocent words there is much more hidden. His passive aggressive stalking exudes from every pixel of the screen. 

You wonder how he knows your plans for the evening, you hoped he had finally stopped spying on you, but clearly, this dude is unweary.

A hand suddenly rests on your shoulder, drawing your attention and making you flinch at the unexpected contact. Your thoughts must have poisoned your features judging by Hani's tone of voice, gentle and concerned.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You mechanically put your phone back in your pocket and look at her with a hint of a smile, hoping that she doesn't notice the tornado of thoughts that swirl behind your eyes.

You don't want your worries to ruin your evening, that's exactly what that asshole would want.

Much less, you want Hani to decide it's best to take you home. It would be a defeat on all fronts.

You're going to go to this damn party and have fun. Ray has no power over you, not anymore. To let this message get under your skin would mean allowing him to manipulate you once again. You have to use it instead to do the exact opposite, to free yourself tonight and allow your wounded soul to dance.

Your face softens a little more as you manage to regain control of your thoughts.

"Yeah, it's all good. How long will it take to get there?"

Hani tells you that you'll arrive in a few minutes. She doesn't seem entirely convinced by your attempt to reassure her but you're glad she doesn't ask anything more when you start a barrage of questions about this kind of parties and the moto races.

Tae and Jungkook are waiting for you inside, she says, apparently they had to deal with some organizational issues related to tomorrow's qualifications, that's why they went earlier.

Hani is particularly thrilled, you can tell by the way she describes in as much detail as possible all the competitions and parties she's already attended. A little of her enthusiasm makes its way through you and you find yourself smiling genuinely as you listen to her.

A few minutes later, your driver parks next to the curb and once you get out of the car, you are amazed to notice the huge group of motorbikes parked in the lot next to the venue.

They're all well parked, resting under the light of the street lamps which highlights all their beautiful colors and shapes.

You reach the entrance guarded by a guy who looks like he could fold a motorbike in two. His menacing presence actually calms you further. You sigh without realizing it as your chest feels a little lighter.

Hani greets the big boy, who reciprocates, while maintaining a serious demeanor. He lets you in without even asking for documents or such, Hani is really well known by now.

The interior of the place has been well decorated for the occasion and the music is not excessively loud, the atmosphere is pleasant. You were expecting something more frenetic considering the adrenaline that motorcyclists are used to, everyone seems to be having fun but with ease instead. Which doesn't bother you at all.

Hani leads you to a small room filled with some sort of lockers to take off your coat before you could finally start your night.

It doesn't take long to find Tae, sitting at the bar, right next to the dance floor.

As you get closer, you notice that he's with a dark-haired guy and that they both seem deep in conversation.

"Here you are finally! Hoseok, Y/N, Y/N, Hoseok"

Tae gestures with his hands between you and the guy next to him. 

"You can call me Hobi!"

He says with a beautiful smile and holding out his hand.

The handshake was a bit embarrassing for you, you're no longer used to this type of introduction. Usually, the customers who come to the shop know you through Instagram or through friends, and it is easier to establish relationships which, in that circumstance, are limited to work.

"Nice to meet you, Hobi."

Tae offers everyone a round and the alcohol seems to loosen your nerves a little more.

Despite the initial awkwardness, the conversation between the four of you continues smoothly. You laugh out loud when Hobi tells an anecdote about Tae and Jungkook, you find him funny, both his way of storytelling and the emphasis he puts on details. He is definitely a sunny and extroverted guy who is able to drag anyone into conversation and put a smile on their face with his energetic ways.

Speaking of Jungkook,  you wonder where he could be, considering he was not here with them when you arrived.

Hobi continues his tell tales while Hani chuckles and Tae intervenes every now and then

"That guy over there," Hobi points behind you, "That one over there has been the champion for two years in a row!"

You turn to see where his finger is pointing only to realize that the champion he's talking about is Jungkook himself.

Tae laughs mockingly, determined to annoy you today as well, clearly. "Oh, they know each other very well!" and he exaggerates a wink.

Luckily enough, Hani seems to be on your side tonight. She elbows him on the side to shut him up but that only elicits a half-laugh from Tae.

"Yes, because I joined his gym." You respond casually, purposely ignoring Tae's innuendos.

Hobi starts waving his arm in the air trying to get Jungkook's attention from across the room.

Jungkook is talking to a couple of people, you look at him as he smiles and nods at something his interlocutors said, then he notices Hobi's attempts to call him.

He waves back and seems to want to return to the conversation with whoever is in front of him, when he notices you next to his friends.

A small smile forms on his face and his gaze remains fixed on you, almost as if he were challenging you to a staring contest. 

You decide to playfully stick your tongue out at him to which he, in response, reacts with a damn wink.

You turn around and try to douse the heat you feel by taking a large sip of your drink. The alcohol helps, but the warmth in your cheeks becomes noticeable.

Your friends continue to chat peacefully, you're relieved to see that no one has noticed this little exchange with Jungkook, with the exception of Hani of course, her smile speaks clearly.

You try to focus on Tae and Hobi's talk, but they're talking about some modifications their mechanics made to their bikes for the race, details too mechanical for your alcohol-clouded mind.

Hani's smile is different now when you look at her, and the tilt of her head confuses you further.

"Here he is, the champion graces us with his presence!"

Hobi says all of a sudden.

You realize that Hani was trying to let you know that Jungkook was on his way.

He stops next to you and it's strange to meet him in a context other than the gym. You felt more or less the same feeling when he gave you that lift that evening, but now you have the opportunity to see another aspect of his person and the way he is dressed is proof of that.

Jungkook seems like an outgoing and sociable guy when it comes to training his members at the gym. As you watch him now though, he seems slightly embarrassed, keeping his hands inside the pockets of his baggy jeans.

Tae takes Jungkook's arm as he responds to Hobi's statement "Technically, I'm not the champion yet."

“Will you let us win any races this year?” Tae asks in a teasing tone.

Jungkook tries to free himself from Tae's grip by pinching his side. "Ouch." Tae chuckles, placing a hand on the pinched spot, while Jungkook rearranges his hair, moving it away from his face.

"It's not my fault that Ducky is the fastest bike on the track."

"Ducky?"

You ask out of curiosity, before you even realize.

Tae and Hobi start giggling in the background as Jungkook's gaze falls on you. He appears surprised by the question, as if he thought you knew. Then, he seems to remember that he never spoke about his bike nor his races with you and his expression changes.

"My Ducati." he replies, playing with his piercing, a habit you think comes when he's pondering or embarrassed.

"Did you give your bike a name?"

Jungkook tells you that many people give their bikes a nickname, explaining that the reason he chose Ducky it's due to the similar sound with Ducati.

You smile in recognition that Jungkook definitely looks like an intimidating and strong guy, but that you became aware of a more thoughtful and playful part of him starting from the night he brought you home on his motorbike. Even this small detail about the moto's name fits perfectly with the Jungkook that you got to know till now.

An interesting mix that is also reflected in the ducati he rides.

“It's cute, I think it suits her!” You chuckle softly.

You notice something in Jungkook's eyes, but it doesn't last long due to Tae's comment.

"No please, don't tell me that you also think it's a suitable name for a motorbike!"

Tae babbles distraught, while Hobi laughs loudly, shaking his head.

"Look who's talkin, the one who called his bike Sonic!"

Jungkook huffs mockingly, rolling his eyes. 

The bickering that takes place in front of you makes you laugh lightly, Hani and Hobi join you as Tae fiercely retorts.

"At least it's related! And it's blue like Sonic! Your bike is not even yellow!"

“Wow bro, so original!”

Jungkook pretends to be overly impressed by his friend's explanation. Tae gulps down the last sip of beer while he wraps his arm around Hani.

"And by the way, have you ever seen a duck run? Those tiny little things are pretty fast!" Jungkook concludes.

At this, even Tae bursts out laughing, almost spitting out the beer from his nose. Everyone has seen at least once in their lifetime a video about little ducks chasing their mother or caregiver. Jungkook evidently emerges victorious from the argument, he chuckles along with all of you and the moment couldn't be more wholesome than this, you think.

The evening unfolds like this, next to the bar, with laughter and some small bickering between the three guys. You notice from time to time that Jungkook's eyes wander towards you while he speaks and he catches you looking at him sometimes as well.

The alcohol in your system definitely doesn't help make it any less evident.

"Another round? It's on me this time." Hobi shakes his empty beer, starting to move towards the bar when Jungkook stops him by placing a hand on his shoulder

"Just a coke for me, please."

Hobi nods as he appears to reply something like, "I know" before smiling tight-lipped at him.

You watch Jungkook's profile the entire time as he smiles back at Hobi before letting him walk towards the bar.

He looks like one of those smiles that takes over his lips when you catch his mind wandering, back at the gym.

A light smile that seems to hide something more.

When Jungkook turns back to bring his attention back to the conversation in progress, your eyes meet for the umpteenth time and his weak smile widens into a smirk.

He leans towards you slightly, while Tae and Hani continue to discuss something you don't quite listen to and his face gets dangerously close to yours.

“Are you going to keep looking at me all night?”

Jungkook speaks close to your ear, he doesn't whisper but he still makes sure you're the only one to hear him.

The sudden closeness of his body allows your nostrils to immediately capture his scent, the one you've had on you thanks to his motorcycle jacket and as the memory of that evening returns to your slightly alcohol-influenced mind, you smile mischievously.

“How can you say I'm looking at you all the time?”

Jungkook shifts his head slightly so he can look at you better as he says

"Because every time I look at you your eyes are already looking at me,"

You sigh, his voice far too calm to cause such turmoil within you. You try to ignore his usual attempt to make you blush, failing miserably when he continues, “You look like you want something.”

This man right here, damn. He knows, you know he knows the effect he has on you. It's clear.

You feel hotter but you manage to retort.

"And what about you? Why are you looking at me so often?"

The liquid courage you have in your body is enough to make you ask straight away, basking in the feeling of his body so close to yours.

Jungkook's eyes watch you intently and a gleam of amusement adorns his deep irises.

He moistens his lips and the movement of his tongue doesn't escape your gaze, but right as he is about to answer your question, Hobi returns, but empty-handed.

“Sorry guys,” Hobi interjects, his face darkened with worry compared to earlier. "Some problem came up with the registration documents and they asked me to help check." He says hastily as he apologizes once again.

Tae offers to go with him and solve the problem at hand but Hobi shakes his head,

"There is no need, I don't want you to ruin your night with bureaucratic bullshit. See you on the track tomorrow! It was nice meeting you Y/N!

"Pleasure is mine Hobi!"

You reply, giving him a smile.

As you watch him go, you realize that you have just met this boy, and yet you feel that you have made the acquaintance of a genuinely beautiful person.

It's so rare nowadays.

“So guys,” Hani exclaims loudly, catching everyone's attention.

"Tae and I are planning a relaxing ride next Sunday."

Jungkook nods.

"Where were you guys thinking of going?"

You watch your friends discuss the details of the itinerary and realize that you're actually considered part of the trip only when you notice that at the idea of the four of you going on a ride together, Jungkook seems relaxed, almost as if it were obvious to take you around on his beloved Ducky. Maybe your mind is wandering a little too much, but it makes you blush a little.

“It can be done, as long as Y/N agrees.”

The pronunciation of your name draws your attention, refocusing you on the group.

"Mh?

"I said if you feel like getting the necessary moto gear, we can go."

Jungkook repeats, Hani and Tae are looking at you as you try to seriously focus on organizing the aforementioned ride.

"Yes, no problem, but I don't know where to buy what I need."

"I'll take you to the store where I bought mine!"

Hani exclaims with a smile.

“I can get you some gloves but as far as helmet and jacket, make sure you get stuff that's the right size for you.”

You shake your head, saying that you will take care of getting everything you need with Hani.

"Oh, yeah I forgot how small your hands are, it's definitely better if you try them on at the store."

Jungkook evidently can never stop himself from teasing you.

His comment causes a mischievous smile on Tae's face and a very satisfied one on Jungkook's.

Hani purses her lips, trying to hold back a laugh, or whatever she was about to say.

Your eyes roll in mock annoyance as you playfully push Jungkook.

"Okay, it's decided then!"

States Hani, who sports a satisfied smile as she continues, “Oh, I forgot something in the car! Come on Tae.”

She grabs Tae's hand and before you can even point it out, he anticipates you by saying, "But you came in an Uber!"

Hani glares at him, "Just come."

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head at the obvious attempt to leave you two alone, while you watch them go in disbelief and slight embarrassment. You want to curse her, but you know it's what you really want too. You want time alone with him, you want to take advantage of the courage you feel inside this evening to understand a little more this tattooed and lip-pierced mystery.

The dance floor is full and you can no longer see the bartender behind the bar due to how many people are waiting to receive their drinks.

You don't even remember the last time you attended a party like this, the only thing that comes to mind when you think about it is Ray almost causing a fight with a guy who mistook you for his friend, the fight that came of it once you left the party and the tears you shed because of his sharp words, is the only memory of that last party you attended.

You return your gaze to Jungkook as anger and sadness from past events threaten to make their way onto your face.

There is no need to dwell on the past, past parties are in the past, Ray is not here and nothing stops you from enjoying the evening and putting off your worries about your ex and his passive aggressive messages until tomorrow.

Jungkook watches the dancing crowd, moving his head to the beat of the music as he's leaning against the wall.

You admire him so much, he always seems to have everything under control, no matter the shadow that darkens his face every now and then, he seems to always manage to return to reality and enjoy the little things.

"Want to dance?" You don't give your shyness time to reconsider the invitation that the words have already left your mouth. You hold out your hand as you invite him to join you. 

He looks at your hand briefly before replying with a soft smile, “Why not.” and join his hand to yours.

You clasp your hand around his and lead him through the crowd.

You feel boldness fill you, you hadn't even considered the possibility that he might refuse and happy that he didn't, you reach a spot that isn't too crowded, the volume of the music is louder here and you feel the effect on your skin as your heart follows its own rhythm.

Thanks to what you drank and the need to let yourself go at least for tonight, you let your body feel the music.

His movements are loose and yours adapt to his almost immediately. Jungkook watches you the entire time, paying attention to every movement of your body, as if he wants to imprint them in his mind for later.

When you look up and meet his gaze, this time you hold it, smiling mischievously before turning your back on him.

You continue to dance filled with a wave of audacity, your every movement is seductive for him, who can't take his eyes off of you.

The line of your back is far too attractive to keep at a distance so, all of a sudden, you feel Jungkook's body move closer to yours.

The closeness causes a leap in your chest, but what he says is the cause of the heightened blush on your face.

You feel like your cheeks are perpetually burning because of him.

"What happened to the super shy girl who showed up at the gym a while ago?"

His voice is almost a whisper as you feel his face close to your ear.

You tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder before answering confidently.

"She has learned to dare more." and with that, you decide to lean against his body completely.

Fuck shyness, fuck fears and comfort zones. If tomorrow you have to deal with the consequences of Ray's reappearance, you want to enjoy this one night to the fullest.

You hear Jungkook chuckle softly as a tentative hand finds its place on your hip.

He caresses you flat and softly from your hip up, his palm just grazing the edge of your bra as you wonder what it might be like without your clothes in between.

"It's clear that you're not that shy tonight, either."

You retort as you roll your hips against his. You feel his hand get slightly heavier on your hip as he presses you gently until your body is completely attached to his.

His other hand reaches for your shoulder and brushes your hair away to reveal your neck.

The gesture causes heat in your lower abdomen, you swallow unconsciously at the unexpected reaction of your body. Maybe it's been too long since someone touched you like this or maybe it's the power that Jeon Jungkook has over your body now, but you feel that at this rate you run the risk of melting in his arms.

“What makes you say that, princess?”

His breath tickles you as he whispers the words directly into your skin. His lips don't even touch you once and you wish they would.

You push your hips against his a little more as you continue to move languidly. His fingers mindlessly caress the curve of your neck and you close your eyes as you enjoy the feeling.

“The way you're touching me now.”

You reply in a small voice as your hand reaches for the one resting on your hip,

you hold it as if it might disappear if you don't.

You shiver slightly when his hot breath teases the thin skin of your exposed neck again and the grip of his hand under yours grows more and more.

“I can do more and better, wouldn't you like that?”

You feel the effect of your movements directly against your butt and it gives you even more confidence.

You feel completely intoxicated by his touch, nothing to do with the alcohol that undoubtedly contributed to you finding yourself in this situation, everything you are feeling now is the work of his touch, of his body against yours and of his words.

You're dying to fuck him, to feel his hands all over your naked body as he whispers dirty things in your ear. But at the same time you don't want this to ruin your friendship, you don't want there to be misunderstandings between you. You can always enjoy the pleasures of sex without unnecessary feelings being involved, right?

You don't feel ready yet and you hope Jungkook is of the same opinion as you, that he also wants to have sex with you without strings attached.

You spin around and your hands rest on his broad shoulders. You look at him for a moment, his eyes dark and full of longing as you whisper in his ear, "As long as it's the only thing you want too."

When you look back at him to decipher his reaction, you notice that Jungkook initially seems surprised by your statement, then a pleased smile forms on his plump lips and his hands suddenly become bolder, moving down from your hips to the small of your back. You barely hold back a moan when you feel the hardness of his member and the firmness of his hands on you.

Jungkook holds you close and you don't know when exactly your bodies stopped following the rhythm of the music. He firmly squeezes one of your buttock while you caress the locks of his nape.

You watch him move closer to your neck once again and this time, you feel his wet lips brush against you just below your ear.

"Are you really the first girl I don't have to give the usual speech to? Am I dreaming?"

His deep voice reaches the parts of your body that you never thought would be affected by a simple voice.

"What speech?" You sigh when you feel his hands move up your back.

"The one that makes my intentions clear."

Jungkook looks back at you, as if wanting to make sure he hasn't misunderstood anything.

"It seems we want the same thing, then."

You state in a rush, feeling the places he touches completely on fire.

"Do we?"

Jungkook tilts his head slightly as he holds you impossibly tighter. You feel completely enveloped by the warmth of his body when his thigh slides and finds its place between your legs.

A soft moan escapes your lips and it seems to trigger something in him, you hear him breathe deeply before asking in a low voice.

“What do you want, Y/N?”

From the tone of his voice it is clear that he knows what you want, he simply wants you to confess it freely.

His thigh twitches between your legs, rubbing just right against the place you want it the most.

You follow its movements, completely enraptured by the sensations you are experiencing.

There is no room for shame right now in your mind clouded by the burning desire for him.

The only thing you can think about is his leg repeatedly teasing your clit and the caresses of his hands along your back.

Your hands tremble slightly with pleasure as they involuntarily grasp the strands falling at the nape of his neck.

Jungkook hisses through his teeth but doesn't resist, in fact he seems to like this little gesture from you.

You look at him for a moment and his adam's apple is so inviting that you can't resist the temptation.

You move his head to the side to get more access and lick the surface up to his jaw.

You would continue to enjoy this lewd moment as long as it lasted.

You thought you would tease each other for a while and then go back to your friends, but no.

Jungkook is just as involved as you are.

The groan that vibrates in his throat reached a part of your brain that is now completely short-circuited.

"I want to fuck you."

The words come out with frightening ease and are enough to make Jungkook look back at you through lidded eyes.

“And I don't want anything more than that.”

You know you're not ready to take that leap, but the uncertainty hidden in your voice reaches somewhere in your chest.

It hurts something when you watch him smile widely at your latest statement.

A fleeting pain, overtaken by the strong desire caused by the hardness of his member, throbbing against your thigh.

“Yeah, we definitely want the exact same thing.”

It was already quite clear, but hearing you say it is something else.

Jungkook moves away from you, leaving your body to the cold void his hands left. 

Then, he grabs your hand, leading you past the crowd and towards the other side of the place.

You look around, convinced he wants to take you to the bathrooms, but you realize that with every step you take, you are getting closer to the locker's room.

"Where are we going?"

You ask loudly, as Jungkook continues his zig zag through the people holding your hand.

"At my place." he answers.

“I thought you wanted to do it in the bathroom, haven't you been drinking?”

You know that driving under the influence of alcohol is a terrible idea.

Jungkook stops in his tracks for a moment noticing your hesitation in continuing and you hear him chuckle before answering.

"I shared a joint before," he looks into your eyes, as you inspect them, "And then, you saw me drinking a cola, I don't drink alcohol."

Jungkook continues to look at you, though his eyes avoid yours now, lingering on your lips.

You want to ask him more but before you can, he leans in close to you to whisper, making your legs tremble in anticipation.

“Besides, why would I take you to a public bathroom when I can make you scream in the comfort of my own bed?”

He knows all too well that he has the upper hand and is taking advantage of it.

Damn Jeon Jungkook and the effect he has on you.

The heat spreads again in your belly and when you look at him you just want to bite that plump lip, tease his piercing and let that mocking smile get lost in moans of pleasure.

“Or maybe you feel more comfortable doing it at yours?”

His tone of voice lacks malice this time, after all, you have now understood that Jungkook is a caring person and therefore he wants to avoid making you feel uncomfortable.

You nod and smile at his consideration.

"At mine."

Jungkook tightens his hand around yours again, smirking.

You quickly reach the exit after collecting your things from the lockers.

And there she is, Ducky.

You will climb on her for the second time, soon there will even be a third, you can't help but smile at the thought.

Strange how different reasons are leading you to get on a motorbike so often, not that this is a complaint, far from it.

You tremble at the thought of experiencing certain sensations once again, this time even, with the prospect of sleeping with Jungkook.

He invites you to wear his gear once again, but you strenuously refuse to deprive him of his jacket this time. Even though he was annoyed at first, Jungkook had to give in to your determination.

December cold is unforgiving.

In order to compromise, you wear his helmet, unable to argue with its importance.

You reach your apartment complex after a while, Jungkook was driving the entire time at a speed well under the legal limit, allowing you to hug his body to shield yourself from the cold as much as possible.

Once you reach the building's underground parking lot, you get off Ducky and take off the helmet to hand it to him. You smile brightly and hear Jungkook chuckle to himself as he shakes his head.

"You really like to ride, huh?"

You look at him while he's fixing his disheveled hair and it's a vision that you didn't think could affect you so much.

You think Jungkook would look sexy even wearing a battered potato sack, but seeing him in these clothes, you think, will always turn you on.

“Oh trust me, I love riding Ducky, but I can't wait to ride you.”

You haven't felt this lustful for someone in a while.

Surely the drinks you had before are not supporting you to keep certain thoughts to yourself.

Jungkook sighs visibly impressed by your bluntness and you could swear you heard him curse.

"Can't wait for you to show me."

Seeing Jungkook now, in the flesh, inside your apartment is something.

You watch as he places his helmet near the entrance door and places his jacket on top of it before taking off his shoes.

As you do the same, taking off your coat and shoes to put them away, he looks around, taking in the appearance of your apartment. 

The foyer is small but well arranged, with a large mirror and a shoe rack right beside it.

You lead the way to reach your couch in the living room and as you walk, his eyes land on some of your latest sketches scattered around on a counter, one of it appears to be a pair of boxing gloves and he finds himself chuckling like an idiot.

As you do the same, taking off your coat and shoes to put them away, he looks around, taking in the appearance of your apartment. 

The foyer is small but well arranged, with a large mirror and a shoe rack right beside it and the little hallway that connects your entrance to your living area is decorated with pictures, plants and some of your favorite sketches.

You lead the way to reach your couch in the living room and as he walks behind you, his eyes land on some of your latest sketches scattered around on the counter of your kitchen, one of it appears to be a pair of boxing gloves and he finds himself chuckling like an idiot.

"Why are you laughing?"

You're puzzled by his sudden reaction. 

"I like your apartment, it fits your vibe."

He answers quietly and you smile shyly in appreciation, suggesting him to make himself comfortable on the couch.

"Want something to drink?

 You ask him, walking behind the counter to reach your fridge.

"Just water, thanks." 

He replies as he sits comfortably. You get some fresh water and when you get back you offer him the glass.

Jungkook sips from it and you join him on the couch.

Your heart always beats so fast in his presence that by now you're almost getting used to the constant hustle and bustle in your chest.

"You really don't like alcohol."

You say lightheartedly as you gather your legs up on the couch and turn to face him.

You curse your damn mouth when you realize that your comment made Jungkook tense up.

You just wanted to make him feel comfortable but before you can think of something to recover, Jungkook takes another sip of water before replying in a low voice.

"Yeah. I prefer weed, even though I rarely smoke anymore."

His eyes look at you for a brief moment, dark as pitch or a moonless sky.

They then move to the coffee table in front of you to put the glass down.

"I'd say you don't need it anyway. You don't need it to boost your confidence, like me."

Something moves in his eyes when you say this. His hand on your thigh pulls your attention away.

You watch it as it lays on your thigh softly. 

The tone of his voice, his firm aversion to alcohol and his troubled eyes makes you ponder, but you can't formulate any sentence that doesn't risk making him even more gloomy.

Jungkook taught you many things in the gym, undoubtedly to throw good punches, but also to have courage in general, to dare and not to let fears stop you.

He was able to free that part of you that you have always adored, the one that made you achieve your most ambitious goals, despite having to sacrifice a healthy relationship with your family.

And he was able to get you there, easily, without even having to tell you openly what to do.

Despite his tacit support helped you regain a little confidence, you feel like he doesn't need the same. Like he needs you to voice your thoughts with him, even if it's not always as easy as after a few drinks on your system. 

You've always sensed that something keeps him anchored to a remote island in the back of his mind and you don't want him to take refuge there right now.

"You are right,"

Your voice is sweet, it matches his from earlier and with one movement you lift yourself, moving one leg to take it beyond his.

You sit on his thighs and place your hands gently on his shoulders.

Jungkook looks at you smugly and pleasantly surprised and you're happy to notice that island receding in the mirror of his eyes.

They slowly fill with lust for you, as they observe your body so close to his.

“Even though I drank a little, I'm sober enough to say that everything I did tonight, I've always wanted to do.”

Jungkook feels the weight of your body and the weight of your words right on his.

You're sitting directly on his growing member and his hands find their place on your hips as he pulls you closer.

“Wait until you see what I've always wanted to do to you.”

With that, his mouth takes over your neck.

He tastes your skin like he's finally testing a drop of water after a walk in the desert and you're the only source he wants to put his mouth on.

You moan as you tilt your head to let him taste you as he pleases.

Jungkook takes the opportunity to bite you a little, leaving a small blush on your skin and licking it to soothe the stinging spot.

You try to control yourself as his hands venture up your back.

“You have a condom on you?” You whisper all of a sudden.

Jungkook keeps kissing your neck, hesitantly moving one hand from your body only to pull a condom out of his back pocket.

He hands it to you and then grabs the hem of your sweater, stopping his assault to help you take it off. A shiver runs up your spine, realizing you're now in your bra in front of him, the cool air of the room brushes against your hot skin and his hands promptly return to your hips and back.

You squeeze the little silver package between your fingers as he pulls your body against him, your hips move almost automatically as you feel his member getting harder and harder. And in return you get wetter and wetter.

You're a complete mess in his arms as you buck your hips, panting slightly at every movement.

When his hands press you more against him, a loud moan leaves your lips and with it, the last bit of restraint you had.

You grab the hem of his sweatshirt, urgently undressing him.

"Someone is impatient." He chuckles breathlessly as he lets you undress him.

"Your fault." You reply as you move to undo his jeans.

"Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?"

The aroused expression on your face is something he hopes to keep in mind for as long as possible.

You drop down to help him take off his jeans completely and Jungkook remains in his black Calvin Klein briefs. The outline of his hard member held with difficulty in the confines of the fabric, making you salivate at its sight.

You stand up and take the opportunity to remove your pants in front of him, while his gaze is glued to you.

If his eyes could touch, you would feel their stroke everywhere right now, like a dry brush on a virgin canvas.

They eagerly study every single curve, every movement you do is carefully followed as you reveal your panties and legs to him.

“You're so hot Y/N…”

You hear him breathing heavily and only after adding your pants to the pile of clothes do you turn back to look him in the eyes.

He's touching himself through his underwear at the sight of your body and despite everything that already happened, you're still blushing.

You are engulfed in the flames of pleasure, yet the blush on your cheeks is caused by something deeper.

You ignore this thought immediately, setting aside that thing that tries to push to make itself some space and focus on the need that screams between your legs instead.

You climb on top of him again, leaning on his shoulders.

"Jungkook,"

You whisper in his ear, looking him in the eyes right now would mean exposing yourself too much, paradoxically.

What a strange contradiction though.

You're already almost completely naked in front of him, but the idea of letting him look you in the eyes while you say the next words makes you feel too vulnerable.

"If we do this, I want us to agree on a few things."

As you try to regain your courage, you lick his neck, moving down towards his collarbone to reach his pectorals.

"I'm listening."

He sighs as he lets his head go back, as if wanting to give you total access to him, basking in the feelings your tongue is giving.

Jungkook is completely engrossed, he seems to enjoy every little thing without thinking too much while you're struggling to let yourself go completely.

The friendship that has developed between you over these months is something you care about and you wouldn't want to ruin it for simple sex.

Even if you're dying to enjoy these moments you've been craving, you're afraid of ruining everything.

"We're just friends who are going to fuck, right?"

You ask tentatively as you continue to leave a trail of saliva with your tongue and lips across his toned chest.

"No awkwardness after."

You're not sure why you're saying this when you can't even look him in the eyes right now, but at the same time you're saying it precisely to not let your fear stop you.

Maybe you're just trying to convince yourself that nothing will change and that you can let yourself go, or just to make sure you both are still on the same page, but Jungkook doesn't seem to notice your inner conflict right now, too distracted by your ministrations probably.

"This is not going to ruin our friendship if that's what you're worried about."

He states between breaths as he wraps a hand in the middle of your hair.

“The fact that we both know what we want from each other and what we don't, won't cause any problems, don't you think?”

He pulls your hair slightly to expose your neck, and you close your eyes unconsciously when you feel his lips on your skin once again.

"No awkwardness after."

His whisper makes you shiver with pleasure and almost as if you needed to have this confirmation from him, you open your eyes and move to finally be able to lower his underwear.

His penis rises free from the confines and you are a little surprised at the size. He throbs in front of you with the tip red and moist as you observe the succulent veins adorning its surface.

"So we're gonna be ride buddies and friends who fucked once."

Jungkook holds his legs open as you get on your knees in front of him to pull his briefs completely off.

"Let's see if you still want it to be once after I fuck you just right."

You smile sensing Jungkook's usual way of doing things, his classic way of provoking you while he smiles with confidence.

"Bold are we?"

You snicker as you pump your little fist around his shaft a couple of times.

He hisses.

"You've got the lead for now, wait and see when it's my turn."

He says through gritted teeth as he clearly tries not to give in to your touch too shamefully.

"We'll see."

You move closer, gently placing your lips on the side of his cock as you continue to move your hand slowly.

The intense teasing served to make him super responsive.

Jungkook squirms a little when you carefully spread his precum on the sensitive tip.

You hear as he tries to limit his sounds.

You look up momentarily when your mouth finally settles around his moistened tip, only to see his reaction.

Jungkook instinctively brings his head back and his mouth opens in a silent moan of pleasure.

He sighs heavily as his hands grip the fabric of the couch he's sitting on.

The vision of his naked body exposed to your will causes a shiver down your spine and with your free hand you move down until you reach the most sensitive part of your body.

You give yourself pleasure as you move your mouth and hand finding a rhythm that could be pleasant for him.

You listen carefully for any reaction that might let you know that you are doing the right thing as you keep your eyes closed, completely letting yourself go to the small sounds he makes.

When you twist your wrist slightly and let go of his cock with a pop to catch your breath, Jungkook lets out a throaty moan and he is breathing noticeably faster now.

You're so wet now that you think he could fit inside you without too much effort, you continue to tease your clit while jerking him off at the same speed.

You leave a trail of little kisses along his member, from the tip to the balls.

You look at him again and unexpectedly meet his gaze.

You feel your confidence waver for the briefest of moments when you notice his eyes looking at you intently.

His pierced lip is caught between his teeth as he breathes deeply through his nose.

He's trying in every way possible to block any sound that might come from his mouth and it's almost annoying to notice the effort he puts into it.

"Let me hear."

You say softly between small kisses.

“I want to know if I'm doing well or not.”

You tickle with your wet tongue from bottom to top, once again reaching the sensitive tip.

His cock throbs in your hand and you smirk satisfied.

You don't need to hear his moans to know that he's completely into it, but you still want to hear them because of you, it's almost a visceral need at this point.

"You're doing great,"

He responds in a deep voice.

He moves the hair that has fallen in front of your eyes with a finger as he tries to steady his breathing.

A soft gesture that makes your heart skip a beat, but you keep your focus on your movements.

Your hands continue to move in unison as you moan, kissing and licking his cock. You purposely avoid taking him fully into your mouth, teasing him every now and then when you feel the sounds getting stuck in his throat.

You feel pervaded by the power that these circumstances can give.

Jungkook watches you the whole time as you work on him and yourself.

He evidently noticed the effect his words had on you, his little praise gave you more confidence, allowing you to let go a little more.

Jungkook suddenly stops you by placing a hand on your shoulder just when you thought he was enjoying it a lot, or at least it seemed like that from his persistent and muffled groaning.

“Y/N, let me taste you please..”

You hear the desperation in his voice and you can see it in his face when you lean up to look at him, a little bit of saliva wetting your chin.

His eyes are completely dark, full of the longing that you know he can see in your eyes too.

He moves to stand up, forcing you back onto your feet before picking you up.

You yelp at the sudden motion, holding onto his neck for support as he helps you wrap your legs around his hips.

“Where is your bedroom?”

Jungkook asks as he latches onto your already battered neck.

"Down the hallway, second door on the right."

In no time, Jungkook transports you following your directions. He pushes the door open with his foot before entering and letting you lie on your soft bed.

He watches you bounce once on it, then looks you up and down with an unreadable look.

Being in your apartment, on your bed, almost completely naked in front of him, definitely makes you bolder, feeling more comfortable.

You just realized how far you've gone with him, that you can't go back now.

Not that you want to, honestly.

You observe him, majestic in front of you, the faint glow of the moon that leaks into the room illuminates his skin deliciously, accentuating every muscle of his toned body.

Your eyes do their best to capture every detail and imprint it in your memory.

Jungkook bends over you, caging your legs with his powerful arms.

You remain propped up on your forearms as your breathing becomes increasingly labored.

His hands rest at your sides and with a firm but delicate movement, he pulls you towards him.

He bends down to let his tongue leave a wet trail across your belly, to the edge of your panties.

The passage of his mouth so close to your core, feeds the fire in your belly.

"Can I?"

He asks softly as his thumbs hook your panties on both sides.

He looks at you, patiently waiting for your permission.

Or your refusal.

You see a hint of hesitation in his gaze, as if he doesn't want to go any further against your will.

You can feel this small detail slowly infiltrating under your skin. You feel it brings to the light something that you would have preferred to remain in the dark, especially in this moment.

Ray.

Why did he always assumed he could take everything without ever asking?

Why doesn't Jungkook take without asking?

These are questions you can't answer. Deep down you know you don't want them, that answers would only cause you more pain.

You swallow, trying to shut off the bitter taste of the past.

"Please…"

You can't say anything else, you whisper this simple word that encompasses everything you're feeling right now.

Please do it.

Please make me forget all the bad things for tonight.

Please take me.

His eyes light up and his skilled hands easily remove the fabric that covered your most intimate part.

Only now you do realize how uncomfortable and annoying the wet fabric you were wearing was.

You feel the cool air hit the moist and hot skin of your pussy and you sigh when his hands return to you after leaving the newly removed garment somewhere on the floor.

He gently places his hands on your thighs, spreading them just enough so he can observe your dripping wet pussy.

Seeing the glisten of your juices makes his blood burn in his veins.

You gasp when his soft lips lay on your clit.

Jungkook is humming delightedly, then he starts to kiss it with delicacy, allowing you to adapt to the stimulus while he lets his tongue tease you slowly.

You close your eyes and try to relax your legs.

His lips are more insistent, until he ends up making out with your soft wet pussy.

You can't hold back your moans and you lie down completely on the bed as you let him eat you out.

Just as you had done earlier, he maintains a slow but precise pace, as if he wants to take revenge for all the teasing and savor your flavor at the same time.

Unlike his, your moans follow one another and you can't stop yourself.

They gradually become stronger and more intense as Jungkook continues to make out with your pussy.

He holds your hips, soothing the skin right beneath his thumbs with circular motions.

It's a sensation you've never felt before, you feel your orgasm building slowly, so slowly that you almost think you'll lose it at any moment, only to change your mind when with precise movements you feel the pleasure accumulating, like waves that add to each other. One after another, before reaching the coast in one large, powerful wave.

He moves his tongue with a constant rhythm and when with a faint voice you warn him that you are about to come, surprisingly enough, Jungkook maintains the same rhythm, he doesn't speed up, he doesn't press his tongue more forcefully against your already very sensitive clit.

With pleasant surprise, you notice that he keeps this pace and it is clear that he knows what he is doing.

He doesn't go crazy trying to catch it, when he already knows where and how to find it.

The only difference is the intensity with which he makes out with your pussy, kissing and licking it passionately, drunk on your juices.

You moan louder as your body tenses more and more like a violin string, until with a delicate but firm movement of his tongue, your orgasm hits you violently.

With his gentle and precise gestures, you didn't expect such an intense and violent orgasm, your body writhes in ecstasy while a string of profanities and panting breaths leave your lips.

Your legs try to close as they tremble from the stimulation, but Jungkook firmly separates them again, enjoying the taste of you for a little longer. You hear him groan and at a quick glance you notice his frowning expression.

You whine from the overstimulation and it's the only signal that seems to stop him.

He pulls off while still remaining in front of your throbbing and swollen pussy and his labored breathing tickles you gently.

“Sorry,” he states, licking his shiny lips for a moment. “You taste so sweet I couldn't stop.”

You look at him while you feel a constant pounding in your chest and your breathing doesn't want to calm down.

His hair is disheveled, his cheeks are flushed and his eyebrows are still a little furrowed.

You prop yourself up on your elbows again, one hand reaching for his hair, letting it sink into its messy locks, as if wanting to tidy them up a bit.

"I wanna ride you now."

You state decisively and perhaps a little too pretentious, you add,

"Can I?"

Jungkook looks at you as he stands up, offers you a hand while you observe him in all his beauty, naked and with his erect member that you can't wait to welcome inside you.

Tonight you got to immortalize every detail of his body in your memory.

His totally tattooed arm, his sculpted body and his face, at times so sweet that you couldn't believe it is capable of contorting into those expressions of pleasure that you saw earlier.

You accept his hand and let him pull you onto him while he says "How can I say no when you ask it so nicely."

You smile mischievously and take the opportunity to accompany him, pushing him by the shoulders onto your bed.

Jungkook takes place where you were laying, he sinks into your sheets as he settles in.

You reach him with your legs still shaking and climb up until you're almost sitting on his thighs.

You pick up the condom that you had previously abandoned on the bed next to you, but before you can open it to let him put it on, you can't resist the temptation to put your mouth back on his inviting cock.

You give a provocative lick, spreading your saliva all over the surface you trace and you understand how much he too wants to finally be able to feel you when his hips suddenly move upwards.

"Fuck-"

You continue to lick slowly for a few moments while you stimulate him a little with your hand.

When you look at him, he's already looking at you and it doesn't surprise you, his mouth is slightly open as he tries to regulate his breathing.

He looks so sexy right now, you can see in his expression the immense heat burning in his irises. The need he feels to possess you.

"Stop teasing me."

His voice is strained and his face speaks clearly: if you continue like this he won't resist much longer, he can't wait to see you jump on his cock.

The mere look in his eyes makes you clench your walls in anticipation and with a little effort you finally get him to wear the condom.

You move to finally be able to position yourself on his erect member and begin to lower yourself. A shiver runs through your limbs, the small tingling you feel as he penetrates you is almost immediately replaced by pleasure.

Jungkook is big, but you're so wet that he can slide inside you with ease.

You support yourself with your hands on his chest as you close your eyes to fully enjoy the sensations you're feeling. You continue to move down until you are completely seated on him. You feel full, his hands resting on your hips and squeezing you lightly.

When you reopen your eyes, you look at him and get lost for an infinite moment in front of what you see.

Jungkook looks at you through eyes half closed in pleasure, he's been looking at you the entire time, as if the scene in front of him is the key to understanding the entire movie.

If memory had any capacity, this moment would take up most of the space in Jungkook's mind for a long time to come.

After a few moments, you feel like you've gotten used to his girth and can finally move up and down.

Despite your legs still shaking from your previous orgasm, you manage to move at an increasing pace.

You moan without caring about the sounds you make, music to Jungkook's ears as he lets you do what you want with him, accompanying your movements with his hands.

You move messily as your legs start losing strength. You alternate your motions by rubbing your clit on him, moaning loudly when you feel your little sensitive nub stimulated like this and the squelching sound of your pussy fills the room. 

Jungkook hastily moves his hands behind your back, pulling at your bra to unclasp it. He doesn't take it off of you completely though, finding it more sexy the way he jumps up and down following your movements. 

"Fuck yes.."

He groans as he watches hypnotized your breasts bouncing out of your bra.

Then he tilts his head back onto your pillow as his arms flex with the motions of your body.

You bounce on his cock the best you can, tracing the side of his throat with your thumb, right above a little red spot you sucked on his skin.

The vision is enchanting.

The sounds he makes, addicting.

You're breathless, the muscles of your legs are burning from the effort but you keep bouncing and humping as you feel you're close to the second orgasm of the night.

"I-I'm clo-"

You're so close to the point of no return but suddenly, your legs are failing you and just like that, you tiredly collapse on his body.

Jungkook is quick to react, grabbing your hips tight enough to support you and adjust his position under you as he starts to thrust up.

Your moans are broken by every thrust as he diligently hammers your pussy up just right.

"You're so hot Y/N. So fucking hot."

He groans softly, pulling you impossibly closer.

You feel strange, like you're burning alive and flying at the same time.

You comfortably lay on his body as you let him lead you to the peak of your pleasure, licking and kissing his neck and ear lobe in the meantime.

"Fuck yes- yes!"

You moan his name as the fire explodes all of a sudden and the extreme pleasure you've built till now, crushes hard on you. And just like that, you feel your legs shake and your head light like a leaf blown by a gentle breeze.

Jungkook's thrusts slow down a little, milking your orgasm slowly till the very end. He only stops when you start whimpering, knowing you're probably super sensitive right now.

He pulls out and you whine to the feeling of emptiness, your walls slightly pulsing as you already miss the sensation of his cock deep inside of you.

"Are you ok?"

He asks you as he tries to stabilize his breathing.

Your body is still glued to his, your breathing is as ragged as his and you let the beating sound of his heart soothe you for a moment longer before you nod.

You slowly get up hissing a little and you look at him.

"Cum on me."

There's no longer space for filters and your brain is so fucked out that it doesn't even care how needy you sound right now. Even after your two orgasms. 

You're craving his touch, his sinful sounds, and you wanna know what it feels like to have his cum on your skin.

He smiles amused, chuckling a little.

"Yeah? And where do you want me to cum?"

His voice is husky and you feel your body reacting to that.

You buck your hips on his cock, blocking it between you and his stomach. 

Are you even sane right now? Did he fuck you out of your own brain?

"On my ass."

Yes, you're totally gone.

You're totally gone for this man.

You watch him as you keep moving on him, you see he swallows a moan as your wet pussy keeps rubbing on his member.

"Aren't you sensitive right now?"

He asks lowly.

"I can handle it."

You sit up, your battered pussy is still recovering from two orgasms but you know you can take it and you just want to show him how badly you still want him inside of you.

He laughs mischievously, looking at your fucked out beautiful face with pride.

"Lie on your belly for me, then."

You willingly obey, throwing your bra out of the way completely and resting your figure on your belly, just as he asked.

You can't see him from this position, you only feel his hand reach for your leg, bending it so that you're able to turn a little to the side.

He now has the possibility to keep looking at your body from this perspective. He has your ass, the side of your breast and your face at his mercy and he can't wait to enjoy your every expression from here.

"Stop me if it's too much."

You feel the weight of his firm body lay on you as he whispers, and when you turn your head to nod you meet his face, dangerously close to yours that you can feel his hot breath caressing you.

You're spread under him, fresh out from the two orgasms he just gave you and totally naked, yet there it is, the look you wanted to avoid earlier, the one you knew would make you feel really, really vulnerable. 

The mixture of his cares, his soft voice and his piercing dark eyes are sending danger signals to your brain as it feeds something deep in your chest.

You try to escape, diverting your eyes from the magnetism of his by nodding.

Jungkook pulls a little away, positioning himself right at your entrance.

You can hear him spit and the next thing you feel is his lubricated cock slowly pushing in.

You never felt like this, never had multiple orgasms and still wanted to fuck. The sensitivity is still there, you feel the heat spreading to your nerves as he slowly but surely bottoms up.

It's only when he starts moving that you feel a peak in your pleasure, like he is able to touch all the right spots at once.

He finds a rhythm, grabbing the flesh of your ass and pulling you to meet his hips.

Your breath is irregular, just like his, and you start pushing your palm on the sheets as every thrust is pushing you up the bed.

Jungkook has a better idea though.

He lets go of your ass completely as he swiftly grabs your arm and blocks it behind your back.

Feeling restrained like this by him causes a moan to escape your throat, followed by another one when he uses your arm as a grip instead of your ass to keep you in place.

"You like that huh"

He says through gritted teeth, the angle allows him to see the profile of your face as he fucks you hard and steady. 

Your sweet innocent face, contorted in pleasure is an ethereal vision to his eyes.

And the fact that it's him causing you to feel this good, makes him feral.

You say yes a couple of times between your moans and heavy breaths.

He speeds up his pace a little more, always cautious of your reactions, not wanting you to feel any discomfort.

But what he hears from you next is what makes his balls tighten dangerously.

"Slap my ass, please-"

Your voice is broken but firm as you say it and something about it makes him go completely insane.

Perhaps the "please" part, or the way in which you're voicing your desire right now, mixed with your sweet moans and submissiveness.

He slaps his free hand onto your buttock hard enough to sting, and listens to the smacking sound and the throaty moan you let out resonate in his ears.

"Oh fuck-"

He lets out, pure ecstasy laced in his raspy voice as he soothes your skin.

His thrusts are becoming sloppier, more erratic, and he's louder than before as he's chasing his own orgasm now.

You're addicted to the sounds he makes during sex, that's clear by now. Every time a throaty moan escapes his lips, you wish you could record it and use it when you'll be alone.

Suddenly, he frees your arm and pulls out. You assume he's taking off the condom as you try to regain some strength to push your hair away and look at him over your shoulder. 

You watch him pumping fast his cock as his free hand strokes the reddened skin of your ass.

His eyes are shut tightly and you keep watching him moan loudly as spurs of his hot cum land on your ass.

He keeps pumping till the last drop then he slaps his cock on your cum covered skin and you've never seen something hotter than what just happened.

When he comes down from his orgasm, he smirks at you, tired and satisfied.

You chuckle softly, covering your face with your arm without even noticing.

“Fuck, that was-”

"Amazing. Yes"

It was, it was indeed amazing.

He finishes your sentence in a small voice as he tries to steady his ragged breathing, still remaining where he is.

You feel his hot seed slowly dripping down your skin and when your breath is stable enough you move to the side of the bed to get up.

“I'm gonna take a quick shower, if you don't mind.”

you say, moving to get to your bathroom.

“Not at all, go ahead.”

When your shower is over and you feel refreshed and relaxed, you return to your room with only a robe covering you, your skin still a little damp under the fabric of the robe.

Surprisingly you find him fully dressed, you sure didn't expect him to stay longer but you at least wanted him to take a shower before leaving.

"Are you sure you don't wanna take a shower too?"

You ask him as you approach.

"Yeah don't worry." you watch him as he brushes his hair out of his face and fixes his clothes.

You remain silent after that, it feels strange and a little heavy.

Should you ask him to stay? 

Will it be awkward from now on? 

Was it a mistake from the beginning?

You don't want him to think you're kind of kicking him out. The unhealthy overthinking starts pestering you and you don't even notice you've walked with him to the door of your apartment.

He gathers his helmet and jacket from the floor and turns to you with a little smile.

"I better go. Don't want Ducky to get jealous."

It makes you laugh lightly and you can't keep yourself from playfully rolling your eyes at him.

It's still him, the Jungkook that loves to tease you and makes silly jokes.

You probably needed this to get back on earth and realize that you should stop overthinking.

"Oh! Of course we don't want that!"

You emphasize and your fake concern makes him chuckle. 

It won't be awkward from now on after all.

You open the door for him and when he comes out he zips up his jacket, ready to leave.

"Let me know when you're going to the shop to get your gear."

He smiles, one of those smiles that make the drums go crazy in your chest.

"I will. Drive safe."

And for a moment you smile at each other, probably knowing that from this exact moment, it won't be easy to keep your hands away from each other.

Tonight marked an important step for you, not only the boost of confidence that you sported, but you can tell with certainty that your past is still bothering you, from time to time, but it doesn't have your present in its claws.

The decisions you made tonight could bring you to another disappointment, to another loss. Especially when this sensation on your chest keeps going off almost as a reminder, telling you 'Hey, in case you didn't notice, I'm right here!'

It will probably pass if you just ignore it…

It will go away as fast as it came… Right?

◀ [Prev. Chapter] | [Next Chapter] ▶

[goldustwomun]

will we talk? (j.p.)

pairing: bodyguard! james potter x baker! reader

summary: it was only meant to be a one night stand-- a pretty fucking amazing one night stand, but one night nevertheless. so when your dad informs you of a bounty on your head and beloved bakery, you expect just about anyone in the world but james to show up as your newly appointed bodyguard. he doesn’t even fit in with the decor!

warnings: allusions to sex (minors dni!!!), swearing, mentions of a sketchy job (drugs, arms, trafficking etc. u kno the drill w/ obscure mafia stuff), very very hot james xoxo

wc: 2.9k+

note: guess who’s back! (back back) back again! (again, again). anyway, hey :) i had random lines written for this for over a year & tbfh first yr of uni was great and then shit and then really shit so i had no desire to write, but i want to try!!! i really do!!! please, <3 comment & reblog <3 it means the world to me & literally every writer out there! excited for u all to read this :)

Some might say it’s obscene to be sat at a bar, three vodka cokes down, when it was only just past 7 o’clock. The sun still stared pointedly down outside the window, streets bustling with people only just starting their commute home. And sure, any other young adult might have used this opportunity to meet some friends, have a quiet night in, maybe text that one guy on Tinder they’d been putting off meeting– something, anything to fill the awkward lull in time that wouldn’t be too much of a regret the next day.

Some might say it’s obscene, but you like to think it’s just another Tuesday.

The problem with Tuesdays is that more often than not, Wednesdays tend to follow. And it was at noon on the dot that you’d have to make your forty-minute bus ride downtown (a mistake in itself when all anyone could smell was weed, piss and something else indistinguishably rancid), into the one office building that seemed to substantially out-tower the others like some sort of architectural pissing contest, only to sit in front of your Dad and his ever-overpowering bluntness.

And it’s not like you despised him with every molecule in your body– rather, a few molecules here and there. He loved you, that you were certain of, but owing anyone money, your own father especially, made relationships uncomfortable in a sticky, sweaty, clammy-hands kind-of-way. He had always been an immovable figure, suspiciously mafia-esque, even, but of course, you’d never dare broach the subject.

So, Dad, Pa, Father dearest– are the rumours true? Do you really run an underground boxing ring? Or is it arms? Drugs, maybe? As long as it’s not human trafficking, I’ll still love you!

Some things are better left untouched. If ignorance was bliss, you were determined to remain in whatever liminal state of unknowing you’d been in your entire life.

And while he kept to himself and you did to, the last Wednesday of every month, noon on the dot, was not to be messed with. You’d learned that the hard way when you’d missed one during a particularly harrowing cold. It’d been like a SWAT team smashing through your apartment windows when you’d forced her eyes open.

So instead, you gulped down another glass of scathing liquid, all but gagging near the end at the acidic taste of un-mixed liquor swirling around the bottom of your glass.

It was Tuesday, after all, and you hoped if you drank enough, there would be a chance you’d be able to zone out tomorrow– a sweet spot you’d yet to master (somewhere between mildly hungover but still coherent enough to please him).

“What is that– your fourth? Fifth?” A voice questioned alongside a scratch of the bar stool to your left. It was deep, curious, deliciously rough– enough so that your mouth quirked behind your glass, bracing yourself for the face attached to such an addictive timbre.

“Third, actually–” you turned, finally taking in the tousled, black hair, crooked nose with rounded glasses perched on top of them, “--have you been counting?”

He had a kind of all-consuming appearance. Dark yet boyish when you noticed how his smile leaned one way, and a slight chip in his front tooth. An athlete, maybe? You were going to thank whatever misguided angel, deity or God herself had brought him to you.

You didn’t make a habit out of chatting up posh-looking lads with egos that rivalled even that of Icarus and his melting wings, but maybe just this once you’d give in– actually take what’s being offered.

“Huh– dunno why you’re sounding so smug, love. Three drinks and it’s not even dinner time. Some might call that a problem.” Almost immediately that smile of his morphed into an all-knowing smirk, a teasing gleam swimming about in those swampy hazel eyes of his.

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Who? Eighteen year olds having a taste of their first legal drink? Not sure three drinks add up to literal alcoholism, love,” you threw back, defensive, accompanied by that kind of uppity tone in your voice you despised hearing in others’.

His irrefutable bemusement only sharpened the knife poking away between your ribs. Your frown deepened, and so did his grin, but still, his hands flew up in mock-defence as if your words could bite back (and boy, did you wish they could).

“My bad, sweetheart, only teasing,” he assured, nodding at the bartender and then your now-empty drink. Another one, his practised movements seemed to say,

“Do you make a habit out of calling girls alcoholics and then buying them a drink?” you asked, curiosity taking over your irritation.

He shrugged and you couldn’t help but follow the movement, watching as his broad shoulders seemed to invade your space with such careless effort. “So far, just you. It’s something new I’m trying out. What do ya’ think, is it working?” Again with that boyish charm– some sort of arrogance and humility all at once.

Your head shook in an immediate no, but more so to hide the smile that had unwillingly crept onto your face. You knew, with the way things were going, that you’d give into just about anything the man offered (of which he’d not even hinted at yet, but you were just so mesmerised and maybe a little tipsy so you didn’t quite care enough to think of how desperate you may be coming off).

“‘M James, by the way,” he offered as a white flag, a surrender, if you will. You accepted by returning the formality and raising your new drink to his own– a half-empty glass of clear liquid and ice.

“What is that?” you motioned to the beverage in question, “like– 10 shots of straight vodka at once?”

He snorted, a little ugly yet somehow endearingly attractive. Fuck. “Even better, actually– water.”

“And is that new as well, to go with the accusations and drinks?”

“Oh, yeah– I’m really trying to commit to this new year, new me thing,” he bounced back effortlessly.

“It’s November,” you deadpanned, brow arched.

“So I’m either a month and a bit early, or eleven late,” he quipped. You were stunned by the easy rhythm of your back and forth, wondering in what world someone like him could exist– a paragon of a man or whatever the scholars called it. “And while that’d be a fun little story if it were the truth, ‘m actually starting a job tomorrow. Big one, as well. Figured some self-restraint was in order.”

And it was only then that you’d noticed just how little space there was between the both of you, having somehow drifted closer, closer, closer like galaxies hurtling towards each other.

You all but swallowed, staring at his drink held between you, a last barrier that seemed both momentous and insignificant. He’d got you caged in as well, an arm lazing on your backrest, near enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin, blood, maybe even his desire. And his legs, in a somewhat similar position, only a whisper away from knocking into your own.

You considered giving in right then and there, urging his mouth to yours, maybe leading him to the restroom in a grungy stall you wouldn’t otherwise go near on even your worst, most wasted nights.

“Self-restraint with the drinks only, right?” you questioned, tearing your gaze from his glass to his eyes, only to find them already fixated to you. His mouth was perched open, a glide of his tongue against his bottom lip, and the action draws you closer to that chip in his tooth you’d noticed earlier– the one that begged you closer. For inspection, a taste– whatever.

“Oh, but of course. It’s my undoing really, my Achilles Heel, my Hubris,” he seemed to murmur, his words a secret between the two of you. You felt bold then, a rush of heat pouring through your veins as your palm came to rest on the thigh closest to you.

His eyes flickered down for a moment, as if making sure it was real — that touch — before they returned to you. Waiting, watching, with bated breath.

“What is?” you asked, questioning if you’d missed a part of his sentence or if he really was striking you speechless and a little stupid with his words.

“Pretty girls with drinking problems,” and you couldn’t help the surprised laugh that burst from you. He grinned and it was pure majesty.

“Yeah?” you mumbled, inching forward.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, sealing his mouth to yours.

It was bright, too bright in his office– like the ceiling lamps worked part-time in interrogation rooms on the weekends. As much as you needed to be alert, comprehensive, at least mildly sober– it just wasn’t going to happen.

Last night had been something else entirely– the kind of mind-blowing fuck you could only ever dream about, when nights were lonely and the left side of the bed cold for too long. Your memory was somewhat hazy, tinged red with lipstick and lovebites and kicking the duvet out of the way to reach more skin. It was scathing yet sweet and a kind of ruination you welcomed with open arms.

But it also ended abruptly when your eyes flickered open the next morning (a few hours later, more like) and he was already gone. You knew it was for the best– you barely had time for yourself, your family and friends, let alone a stranger with a quick (and skilled, in many ways) tongue and wit.

So there you were, jarred by the empty feeling seeping into your bones. And the lights (had you mentioned the lights?).

“Now, how have things been going this past month?” your Father asked in that all-business, no-nonsense way of his. You think he knows you’re hungover but like all things in your relationship, the two of you choose to ignore it.

“There haven’t been as many customers as I would have liked. The school down the road has been half empty since most of everyone is on study leave, but I–”

“I didn’t ask for excuses, only how it’s going,” he interrupted swiftly. A stabbing pain seemed to appear at the base of your skull as you conjured the remaining energy inside of you to not roll your eyes at your own Father, as well as the man you quite literally owed thousands of pounds to.

“Of course, my bad,” you bit out, taking a deep breath before continuing. “The shop wasn’t as successful as previous months but I’ve got the money here anyway so I’ll still be on track.”

He nodded, accepting your answer and the envelope you placed on his otherwise scarce desk in front of him, before he slid the money, unchecked, into his top drawer.

You sighed, hurrying your words and rushing to gather your things and be out of that dreary office, “Well, if that’s all, I’ve got some errands to run and–”

“--Actually, there’s more I need to discuss with you.” For the second time that day, he cut you off and you fell, defeated, back into the cold leather of the chair. You tilted your head in some sort of half-nod that said, go on.

With his hands clasped in front of him, a stern front if there ever was one, he continued. “As you know, my work is complicated–” (you frowned) “--complicated and expensive. And when one is dealing with the amount of money this company makes, things can get… messy.”

To say you were confused would be an understatement. An actual conversation, albeit clouded with obscurity, about his job? “And when things are messy, one tends to make enemies.”

You couldn’t help how your frown deepened, but you held back any concerns before they could make their way past the tip of your tongue. Your Dad wasn’t one to be interrupted, even if he was particularly talented at doing it to others.

“Essentially, there’s someone who’s not very happy with me–” your mouth opens finally to prod at his statement but he continues anyway, “--and despite every precaution I have taken in order to keep you safe and separate from my work, it’s unfortunately backfired this time around. And so, for your safety, I’ve hired a bodyguard to watch over you for at least the next few months.”

He finished and then there was a resolute silence hanging over you as you took in his words.

You couldn’t help it– you burst out laughing.

“Dad, you’re not– I mean–” the sentence barely made its way out of your mouth before you were overcome with a fit of nervous giggles once more. This is absurd. “You’re not being serious, you can’t be. Right?”

Silence.

Oh.

So that’s when the panic set in, your fingers clutching the armrest on either side of you until your knuckles were white. “Holy fucking–”

“Language,” he scolded with no particular bite and you couldn’t help but scoff,

“Language? Seriously, language. That’s all you have to say. You’ve just told me there’s some kind of bounty on my head and that I need a bodyguard– like, a person to follow me around, twenty four-seven, and carrying a gun or some shit– but all you can think to say to me is fucking language?!” Your breath came out in quick pants, jumping to your feet as you paced the office.

This must be a joke, you thought incredulously. You can’t have some stranger following you around. You had a business to run, croissants to sell, debt to pay off! Who could possibly–

And somehow it got worse.

He walked in and the two of your gazes connecting immediately, like magnets (though this time in a completely different context with your own Father as a member of the audience). You could see, from your place by the window, how his irises grew imperceptibly wider for barely a second as the recognition set in.

“No. No, no, no,” you blurted out immediately, mouth still wide from shock and suddenly you questioned whether your rapid heartbeat was a surprise or something close to a heart attack. Oddly, you’d have preferred the latter.

“Sweetheart,” he had pulled out the big guns now, “this is James Potter.”

“Dad—” you tried and failed to interrupt.

“Don’t worry about the logistics, I’ve sorted it all out. I’ve already rented the apartment next to yours so that he’s nearby at all times. He’ll need to be hired as an employee at your bakery– you know, for appearances sake— but don’t worry about the cost, i’ve got it covered.” Your mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish out of water.

“And most importantly, he is not to leave your side. Ever.” He said it with ease like he hadn’t just informed you that your one night stand had turned into your shadow for the foreseeable future.

James had yet to say anything, his face a facade you wished you could slap off in that moment. Instead, he stood stalk still, arms poised behind him like some sycophantic robot ready to do whatever your Father pleased.

“He can’t be my bodyguard, Dad,” you urged, rushing to his desk, palms slamming down in front of him.

His response was a raised brow (you shared that in common). “And why’s that?”

It’s like you could hear James’ heart skip a beat, probably because yours had as well. You couldn’t tell him the real reason– that’d be a death wish, for the pair of you, if there ever was one.

“It’s just– he’s too big!” James didn’t smile, not outwardly, but you could see it in his eyes when you glanced his way. “I mean, he’s scary or whatever. He won’t fit in with the decor and it’ll scare away the customers,” you reasoned.

He finally spoke and it was then that you truly did consider walking over and slapping him across his stupid, gorgeous face. “What customers?”

You scoffed, whipping your head towards him. “Oh, screw you!”

James looked as if he were going to bite back, mouth poised for a reaponse, but your Dad cut in to save the two of you from outting yourselves.

“That’s enough. This isn’t up for discussion. James is your bodyguard and you’ll have no say in the matter.”

You deflated immediately, collapsing into the same chair you’d sat in, clueless, earlier.

So much for one night.

comment & reblog :)) if u have any ideas for the next chapters do lmk!!! woo!!

[mediumgayitalian]

“Will. Hey.” He reaches out when the medic doesn’t react, forcibly stilling his hands. Even then, he can feel the minute twitches, the fighting he’s doing with himself to keep still. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“They leave tomorrow,” Will stresses, finally pulling his hands free. “The Romans are early risers, Nico, you know better than anyone, I need this done before they —”

He cuts himself off, too invested in the sprawl of paperwork completely covering the nurse’s station. Under his eyes is almost completely bruised black, not unlike the war paint he wore so long ago, and there’s a grey dullness to him. If he stays in one place too long, he sways on his feet.

“I’m fine,” he says, suddenly, as if remembering Nico is there. He pauses briefly to shoot him a small, strained smile, then returns to his frantic sorting. A red thumbprint bleeds onto the corner of the page of one of the files. He doesn’t seem to notice.

Without straying too far, Nico gathers the supplies he needs. He pulls out a tray to grab some antiseptic, swipes a Pac-Man bandaid off a box on the counter. Arms laden with his spoils, he nudges the half-door open with his hip, setting the supplies down when he’s inside the round desk-station.

“Will,” he says quietly, wrapping his hand around his elbow. He jumps.

“I’m — fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

He blinks, staring down at his hands; brows furrowing as he notices the several scattered paper cuts crossing almost every finger. Many of them are clotted, scabbed over; dried blood streaking between his freckles and swirling around stark white scars.

“Come here.”

Without protest, for once, he does. He sets down the pen clenched in his left thumb and turns to face Nico fully. In the minimal space between them, his hands shake.

“I didn’t notice,” he murmurs, flinching as Nico soaks a cotton pad and presses it to a cut on the inside of his thumb. Nico can’t quite read the expression on his face, although there’s a choked quality to his voice. “I need to — before they —”

“Not everything is your responsibility,” Nico interrupts. He meets Will’s gaze head on, his own gaze steady, heart breaking at the fragility in his ice blue eyes. “Not everything is your responsibility, Will,” he repeats, firmer this time.

Will’s face crumples. “I haven’t slept in five days.”

Nico closes his eyes. “Gods, Will.”

“I’m sorry.”

In moments like these, Nico hates working for his father.

He had left to relative chaos. Relative, meaning in comparison to what the rest of the eight billion people on the planet would consider calm, camp wasn’t it, but by demigod standards it wasn’t too bad. Several Romans, including Reyna and Hazel, were due to arrive the day after he was summoned by his father, which was a bummer, but he had assurance from both of them that they’d stay long enough to see him. And reassurance from his father that the errand wouldn’t be too perilous. And, lastly, a threat (warning out of love, he would say, but Nico knows a threat when he sees one) from Will to take it easy.

He got back to debris and blood and a flurry of stress — a weapons development disaster, he’d been quickly informed. No deaths, at least not yet, but several in critical condition that were quickly approaching it.

And Kayla and Austin, back at school, and Will in the infirmary by himself.

“Will,” he repeats for the third time, a little more urgently this time. He places a gently finger under his chin. “Look at me a second.”

He regrets asking, almost, when Will meets his eyes, although he immediately feels guilty for the thought. The son of Apollo is so rarely vulnerable, stubbornly intent on carrying the burdens he’s stuck with without half a hand of help. It wears on him, and the proof of the weariness hurts Nico somewhere, deep in his soul; he hates bearing witness to it.

Worse, though, is the knowledge that Will is struggling with it himself.

“Everybody critical has been stabilized,” he says firmly. When Will opens his mouth in protest, he adds, “I can feel it, Sunshine, do you trust me?”

“Yes,” he says, immediately. He snaps his jaw shut. “Yes.”

Nico’s own shoulders slump when Will exhales, long and exhausted. “Good. This —” he gestures to the paperwork — “this is secondary, Solace. I don’t care if they want to leave tomorrow. You need rest, and, hell, if they’re that pressed about it, I’ll make them do the fucking paperwork.”

“Please, don’t,” Will says, laughing feebly. He swiped quickly under his eyes, pulling away, and Nico lets him, if only because his small smile seems genuine, if not exhausted. “The idea of that actually makes me want to puke. I hate paperwork, but I hate anyone else doing it more.”

“Right, right.” Nico nudges his shoulder, something like teasing showing in his eyes. “Heaven forbid someone dot their i’s incorrectly.”

“Exactly.” Will looks so serious that Nico stills, trying to figure out just how anal, exactly, his friend is, before his face breaks out into a wide, genuine grin. Nico’s stomach flips. “I’m only teasing, Death Breath. I don’t actually care if people dot their i’s incorrectly. And I would appreciate the help.”

“I feel like it hurt you to say that,” Nico says, once he recovers from the staggering force of one million megawatts of smile power.

“It did.”

“Also, you implied that there genuinely is a wrong way to dot your i’s.”

“…Of course there is.” Will looks at him strangely. “Maybe I’m not the one who’s sleep deprived,” he muses, reminding Nico that oh yeah, dumbass, Will is actually genuinely sick with how little sleep he’s gotten, maybe fix that.

“Will you sleep, now?”

Will hesitates. “There was a girl with a — skull injury.”

Nico understands immediately. (He saw the mangled mess of Lee’s shroud.)

“Come sleep in my cabin,” he suggests, squeezing his wrist. “I’ll keep watch, and you’ll have some privacy.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. He allows himself to be tugged out of the infirmary, only looking back a couple times. “Thank you, Nico.”

“Anything for you,” Nico responds, just as quiet, and his heart races when Will beams.

[cookie-crumblr]

Chubby F! Housewife Reader X M!Yandere Streamer OC Jasper

Part 1?

(idk i might continue it?? should i? i know it’s more niche)

MINORS DNI

CW: Chubby F!reader, reader has a vagina, reader referred to as she/her, cheating themes, reader in a dress, pet names for reader(darling, ) not smutty yet! slow burn possibly

keep thinking about a chubby housewife reader to like a really shitty but rich man, and they move next door to Jasper………………. MMMMM

Anything in Red reader isn’t aware of

Your husband moved you both into a beautiful mansion in a gated community. It’s amazing, and everything you could ever need, he’s providing.

You fell in love with him a year and a half ago.

It’s not like he lied, but you wouldn’t have married him had you known what he was really like.

He drinks all day and complains all night, and when he fucks you, he finishes in a few seconds. And that’s when he does fuck you! He’s hardly ever even touching you let alone getting it in.

You are standing outside overseeing the movers as they take boxes and furniture into your brand new house. your skirt dances against your legs in the warm, gentle breeze.

Your husband swirls an amber liquid in a short crystal glass, watching you from the doorway. When you wave excitedly, he skulks back into the mansion.

Your heartstrings tug painfully.

He’s taken you far away from all of your loved ones, somewhere where you’re all alone and afraid… And he can’t even be there for you at least little bit? Before a stinging tear fully can form-

“Evenin’” You hear a lazy male voice from nearby, and spin toward your hedges. There’s a wrought gate between yours, and your neighbors’ yard directly… The old neighbors must’ve been their friend. A young looking guy stands on the other side of it, waving kindly to you. His posture is easy, one hand in his jean pocket, the other up in the air, his head tipped back exposing his pale neck. Long black hair frames his face, loaded with piercings. He looks out of place, but perfectly at home standing out.

You approach, figuring that your husband can lead the movers just fine on his own. You don’t notice your slight pout, but Jasper finds it adorable, he bites his lip, eyeing you up.

“Sorry I didn’t bake ya a pie, didn’t know the place would be sold so soon.” He laughs and lazily scratches the back of his head, his shirt pulls up revealing his hip bone.

“Why? ‘s it haunted? OooOo” You wave your fingers to mock something spooky.

He laughs at your cute demeanor, “Eh maybe, last owner did die,” he shrugs.

“Oh my, I’m sorry, I didn’t know….” You idly run your fingers over the cold, slightly bumpy textured gate.

“Nothing to be sorry for, didn’t know them” He shrugs.

“Oh phew! I thought— Anyway!” You shake your hands and head to reset the convo, “What’s up? why’d you call me over here?” You tilt your head and fold your hands in front of you.

“I was just greeting my pretty new neighbor, that’s all,” He grins.

“Oh stop! I’m married!” You shyly laugh and turn your head so that he can’t see you’re flustered.

“happily?” His grin grows as does his suspicion.

“Oh!” You think of an excuse to quickly leave, “I think the movers are calling me!” You rush off back to at least pretend to delegate again.

His brow raises curiously as he smiles after you, watching your curves sway as you walk away.

The stranger watches you for a few minutes longer, and you feel his eyes on you, but you don’t dare turn around and encourage him.

You are a good wife. Regardless of who you ended up marrying. You stomp, steadfast in your decision.

He chuckles before walking back to his home.

~

Inside you finish setting the table with the house workers, and arranging the flowers on all the marble pedestals around the dining room. Your husband is having some business partners over for dinner.

As the door rings you rush to answer the door, and an employee beats you to it, taking their coat and everything.

You aren’t really sure what you should be doing… And your chest tightens with nerves.

“What are you doing out here? You should be with me.” Edward grabs your elbow and drags you along. He’s being rather rough but you can’t help feel a little grateful to be lead. It doesn’t stop your eyes burning in embarrassment.

He sets you down in the seat next to his at the head, and your heart flutters with pride, emotional whiplash aside.

A few men enter the dining room one after the other, and then dinner is served. you’re dissociating for most of it, just nodding along to their dull conversation, until your husband’s hand clasps around your thigh. “Huh?”

“You’re excused now, darling,” he has a cold look in his eye that startles you.

“What?” What he said hurt your feelings, he doesn’t want you around now? did you do something wrong?

“Leave, let us grown ups talk now” He laughs with his business friends joining in.

You feel that far too familiar sting in your eyes, how could he!? that’s so embarrassing! You’re his wife.

Doing your best, you stand without making a scene and give them all your most polite and proper departing smile.

~

It’s cold on the patio. Your evening dress doesn’t cover very much and where it does, the fabric is cool. You’re quick to shiver, but you remain.

There’s a security camera above you and you feel watched, so you decide to go for a walk around the block instead of staying stationary. Maybe that will warm you up a little too.

You creep out the front gate, feeling like you’re a teen again, sneaking out when you aren’t supposed to… But this is your home! you aren’t disallowed from taking a walk!

“Hah!” You laugh to yourself, how silly of a feeling you just had.

As you round a corner adorned by an iron lamp post with glowing twin lanterns, you start dwelling more and more on your predicament. You already felt lonesome before, where Edward had made you feel special, and told you you’d never be alone again. Yet here you are, walking down the dim street, alone.

An engine coming towards you snaps you out of your thoughts, you turn to see a large van slowing down as it approaches you. Your heart thumps and your mind races before the driver side window rolls down revealing your neighbor’s laid back, and smirking face.

You let out a shaky sigh, “oh goodness you scared me for a second!” followed by a nervous laugh.

“You alright? Want a ride?” He asks.

“Oh no, don’t worry about me! I was just taking a stroll,” You let your words hang, wanting to accept but being a little too frightened or nervous to outright accept.

“C’mon, we can have some coffee or tea at my place, ‘sides, i’d feel terrible if i just left ya out here at this time, sure it’s gated but a tasty lookin’ treat like you’d get snatched up in a heartbeat.”

Your face feels hot but you nod and mangange to get out an “mhm!”

He watches you round the front of his van, and reaches his body over the center console to open the passenger door for you.

He offers his hand to help you up, when you take it, it’s cold! “What have you been up to? You feel like death! here!” You bring his hand up to your face and blow warm air over his knuckles.

Crimson fills his cheeks for the moment and is swift to clear back out before you can really admire it.

You pull back away a little embarrassed yourself, you aren’t sure why you did that to a stranger! “Oh! I don’t even know your name! I’m Y/N!” You stick your hand back out in offer to shake his.

He takes it, “Jasper,” a small smile tugs at his lips.

~

The drive isn’t long, but you realize how far from home you actually were, and wonder what he had been doing to find you.

You step out onto his driveway and anxiously look through the gate connecting your yards. It feels as though this is something you really shouldn’t be doing… But this Jasper guy could be a friend, and then you won’t be so lonely anymore!

Your home is still lit up inside, so you’re assuming they’re still talking in there.

Jasper’s space on the inside is dimly lit, but brightly coloured retro fantasy, all soft shapes with rounded sides. Mostly pinks and purples. Very vaporwave. The kitchen tiles, though the typical black and white checker board, warp and look like waves on the floor. Plants cover most all the surfaces.

He makes you your preferred tea, or coffee, he doesn’t make himself a cup of either. Instead he grabs a pale blue, and silver can from the fridge.

“Oh i see how it is,” You say with sarcasm.

“I figured you’d need to warm up,” A smile crosses his lips that has your body feeling hot.

You sip your drink nonchalantly.

“So what were you doing out there by yourself?”

“My husband— Nevermind, sorry. I shouldn’t talk bad about my husband behind his back…”

“Well I know something we could do if you don’t wanna go back yet…” his brow raises in a challenge.

[pnsteblnme]

tattoos together ✿ g.s.

pairing: georgia stanway x reader

summary: georgia gets her first tattoo, even if it doesn't go according to her plan.

warning: none i think? just my writing :o

word count: 2.7k

a/n: i got this request a couple days ago, i hope you enjoy it!

you can find part two here :)

“Welcome in, how can I…,” removing your gaze from the sketch you were about to put away, your eyes connected with pools of glistening honey, irises swirling like sweet nectar. Feeling yourself drowning in the warm haze of brown, your breath getting caught in your throat and your mouth opening, you shook yourself out of your daze, “…help you.”

Flinching after your last words came out embarrassingly breathless, you sent an awkward smile that turned into a real one when the blonde girl looked at you with nothing but kindness, “Hey, I had an appointment for today.”

You scanned the calendar on the desk in front of you, “Georgia, right?”

Nodding her head, said girl let her eyes travel over your form as you stood up. She couldn’t help but study the intricate tattoos that adorned your arms, wanting to trace them and longing to discover their meanings. The initial apprehension about getting her first tattoo diminished as she admired yours, thinking that if yours looked this immaculate, she wouldn’t have to worry.

Another thing that calmed her uneasiness was not only the very attractive welcoming artist but also the atmosphere of the room.

Unlike many other tattoo shops with a rather gloomy and dark-esque appearance, this one felt like reconnecting with an old friend.

The soft scratching of Cindy Lauper’s ‘Time After Time’ coming from the boxes next to a vinyl collection in the left corner filled her ears. Sunbeams bestowed the room with a glow as orange as marigolds blooming in the late spring and the candles lit on the windowsill filled the air with a vanilla scent.

White walls were decked with hundreds of sketches varying in size and drawing style, most in black and white with a few colourful specks in between.

The wooden front desk harmonised perfectly with the brown leather seat to the left of the room, as well as the stems of the numerous plants that were scattered all around.

Comfort.

That was the only word that came to Georgia’s mind when she finished looking around, feeling the knot in her gut loosen and her stiff shoulders relax.

“What can I do for you?”

Pools of honey meeting the ocean, the blonde girl smiled, “I want to get a tattoo!”

“Well, then you’re at the right place,” you chuckled teasingly, the corners of your mouth turning up.

Seeing Georgia rolling her eyes, you continued, “Do you have an idea of what you want, or would you like some inspiration?”

“I think I know what I want,” thoughts running through her mind at a hundred miles per hour making her unsure once more.

Watching the woman twiddle the rings on her fingers, you send her an encouraging smile, “Okey dokey, if you’d take a seat in that chair over there, I’ll get my stuff and we can get started.”

Georgia shuffled to the left with her hands slightly shaking, not knowing if the cause of that were the gleaming smiles sent her way or rather the fact that she was about to permanently mark her skin.

“So, what would you like me to do?” you questioned as you rolled towards her with your chair, putting on your gloves and setting up everything you needed on the tray next to the woman.

Taking out her phone, tapping a few times and turning the screen in your direction, she replied, “Could you do this one?”

On her phone screen, you could see a small, delicate ghost, your mind instantly jumping to all the customers that had gotten two of them tattooed as a tribute to their favourite song.

“Of course, where do you want it?”

“Here,” she pointed to a spot on her left forearm.

Nodding your head, you quickly but neatly drew the ghost onto a white paper, before asking her if the drawing was according to her idea. When you got a positive response, you put the carbon paper under your sketch and went over the lines again, the ink sticking to the back of your drawing.

You swiftly put antiseptic on her arm and hovered the paper over her skin, “Right here?” She wordlessly moved her head up and down once more and you gently pressed it down before removing it after a few seconds, leaving behind the temporary ink in the form of a ghost.

“Okay, are you ready?”

Georgia could hear her heartbeat in her ears, a lump forming in her throat, that she almost audibly gulped down, a breathless exhale escaped her mouth, “I think so, yeah.”

After turning on the needle and noticing her jump a little at the buzzing that sizzled through the air, you tried to comfort her the best you could, with the most reassuring look you could muster.

When you neared her arm though and she started squirming in her seat, you pulled back and reached for her hand resting on the chair, which was holding the brown leather in a tight grip, her knuckles turning white, “Is everything all right?”

Both of you ignoring the tingles that shot through your bodies when your hands touched, a shaky sigh left Georgia’s lips, “I’m just nervous, this is my first time getting a tattoo and I just don’t know how any of this works or if this hurts and I don’t want to do something I’ll regret,” she let out in one big breath.

“There’s no need to worry, you can go home and see what it’s like with the tattoo and when it comes off and you decide that you don’t want it, that’s totally fine,” you told her with warm eyes, “and if you do like it, that’s fine too, you can come back and we can do it whenever you want, whenever you’re ready.”

Feeling like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders after your words, Georgia’s mind slowed down a bit, allowing her to gather her thoughts, “But I don’t want to be a wuss now and regret it as soon as I get home.”

Not being able to stop the words tumbling out of her mouth, the blonde shared her inner conflict, “Like on the one side I really want this but on the other, I’m afraid it’s not the right thing, you know?”

Letting the statement run through the air for a moment, your eyes ran over her face, “Can I say something?”

“Sure, go on,” Georgia confirmed, her hands starting to twist her rings again.

“I think that it’s better to look back on your life and say ‘I can’t believe I did that’ than to look back and say ‘I wish I did that,” you explained before taking a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express your thoughts, “Life shouldn’t be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely, but one that should be lived to the fullest, even if it means being worn out in the end. One where you embrace every moment, take risks, I don’t know, dance in the rain with your favourite people, even if you get weird looks from everyone else.”

After not getting a response from the blonde after a few beats, you realised that maybe your words didn’t make as much sense as they did in your head and continued, “What I’m trying to say is that twenty years from now, you’ll be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the things you did do. I can’t tell you what you should or shouldn’t do, but I know that life isn’t meant to be lived perfectly, it’s merely meant to be lived. Boldly, uncertainly, imperfectly, kindly, however you want to, just don’t let fear take that choice away from you.”

Somehow, the words that had left your lips with the sunlight sparkling in your eyes and a passion coating your voice drew the blonde further into the spell you had mysteriously put on her, leaving her speechless, until you let out an awkward chuckle, hand scratching the back of your neck, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to give this big ass monologue.”

Feeling a laugh bubbling up inside of her and forgetting her rapid heartbeat for a moment, she shook her head, “No, no, don’t apologise, I mean, you did kind of sound like my Nan, but it was still great.”

When she heard the melodious sound of your laughter, she knew she was a goner, butterflies dancing around her stomach and warmth crawling its way through her whole body.

You took the missing statement about her tattoo as her still being uncertain, “We can start with something smaller if you’re not sure about the ghost.”

Still being faced with an apprehensive look, you took off your left glove, quickly spraying a bit of antiseptic onto the inside of your wrist, before turning the needle on and guiding it over your skin, “Look, it doesn’t even hurt.”

Brown eyes widened, rosy lips parted, a flabbergasted look crossed her face, “Jesus Christ, what did you do?!”

Wiping over the ink once more, you turned your wrist towards her, a cheeky smile resting on your lips that resembled the one of the smiley face you now had resting on your left arm, “Tada!”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you just did that,” the shock was still palpable in her voice, “Won’t you regret that though?”

You put away the needle and turned to face the girl on the brown chair, shaking your head, “I almost never regret anything, because I believe that every little detail of your life is what made you into who you are.”

“Deep down you’re actually a wise old man, aren’t you?” questioned Georgia with a raised eyebrow, your laughter filling the room once more.

“Maybe so,“ you shrugged your shoulders, “but back to you and don’t try to change the subject!”

“I can give you one of these little dudes if you want?” pointing to the ink that you’d just put on your arm.

“It’s not very big, so you can see what it feels like and we’d be matching, so you’ll always remember the wise old man that gave you your first tattoo.”

This time, the chuckles that rang through the room came from the blonde, “Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do, like I said, you can always go home.”

With affirmation in her voice, Georgia declared, “I’m sure!”

“Great, let’s do this,” you put your glove back on, disinfected her left wrist and grabbed the needle from the tray, before turning it on.

When you felt her right hand gripping your left one with a tight grip, you squeezed it, hoping to at least bring her some comfort as you began the procedure.

After tracing the last line, you wiped away the residue and turned everything off before raising your head to meet the pools of honey watching your every move, “See, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

If the way the corners of Georgia’s lips turned upwards was anything to go by, you had your answer, feeling elated about her reaction, even without getting an answer from the girl.

Not noticing that you were waiting for a response, she gazed at the tiny smiley face resting on the inside of her left wrist, that would forever remind her of this day. Suddenly, she felt at ease, something that hadn’t even crossed her mind when she initially thought about getting her first tattoo. She couldn’t explain it, but something about the way you listened to her and tried to support her through this process, overall your gentle nature, made her feel like she was walking on fluffy pink clouds.

“Thank you so much,” Georgia breathed out with a heavy voice.

“No problem! If I ever see you again, I hope it's with more of those, I think it’d suit you very well.”

Lowering her head, praying to god that you couldn’t see the heat that rushed to her cheeks, she mumbled a shy ‘thanks’ before asking you how much she had to pay.

Your answer only intensified the red hue of her face, “Don’t worry about it, I like contributing to the gay panic everyone will have when they see you with tattoos.”

Stammering a final ‘thank you’ and sending you what should’ve been a thankful look but turned out to be more of a blushing grimace, she made her way to the door.

When she tried to push the door though, the flustered mess that was Georgia realised too late that she should’ve pulled on it instead, her head connecting with the glass with a dull thud.

The sound of stifled giggles filled her ears as you held your hand in front of your mouth, trying to stop them from escaping. You couldn’t help but think that this was one of the most adorable things you’ve ever witnessed. The blonde turned to you, face beet red, slender fingers raising in an awkward wave as she hastily opened the door, almost tripping on her way out before half sprinting out of your eyesight.

Two days later, your mood instantly brightened when you saw who had stepped into your store.

“Back for some more wisdom from the old man?” you jested, a playful smirk resting on your face.

Georgia playfully put a hand on her chest and let out a big sigh, “I just don’t know what to do with my life without your wise words.”

Dropping her faux sad demeanour, she walked towards the front desk, where you were drawing something she couldn’t make out, “Well lucky for you, I just discovered my new favourite quote!”

You cleared your throat as if preparing for a big speech and started as serious as you could, “‘They whispered to her ’you can’t withstand the storm’,” pausing dramatically for a few seconds, “‘She whispered back ’I am the storm’.”

“Wow, I don’t… I don’t know what to say, I’m just- I mean that’s so inspiring,” stuttered Georgia, wiping away a fake tear with her hand.

Dropping her sad demeanour, she sent you a grin, “I’m ready for the ghost now!”

“Seriously? That’s amazing!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands together and rocking on the balls of your feet.

Walking her over to the leather chair, the conversation between you flowed easily, like a message in a bottle slowly but surely reaching its designated shore, making it feel like no time had passed when you finished the tattoo.

This time, Georgia left the store with a ghost adorning her left arm and an even wider smile on her face, as she was able to avoid embarrassment during her departure.

“I mean, not that I’m complaining, but you know that you can get multiple tattoos done in one day, right?” you questioned her, raising your eyebrow teasingly.

Seeing her head dropping and the way she started rocking on her feet while twiddling the rings on her fingers, you felt your stomach drop, thinking that you had said something wrong.

Before you could open your mouth to apologise, you were interrupted by Georgia muttering something under her breath. You strained your ears to make out the words but failed miserably.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?”

The girl let out a nervous sigh and muttered again, “I know, but I still need to figure out how to get a grip and ask you out.”

Butterflies danced around in your stomach, making you grin like a fool, “Well then make as many appointments as you need,” you sent a wink her way.

That day she left with a game of noughts and crosses on her shoulder and a newfound determination to ask you out. Her walk home was filled with a million thoughts running through her head, asking the street lights if it would work out in the end.

The next day she showed up at your store with a bouquet of beautifully blooming flowers in her hand, sweating buckets, hoping you couldn’t tell just how nervous she was.

Your cheeks hurt from not being able to stop grinning like a cheshire cat, as you excitedly accepted her offer.

If anyone were to walk through the door, they would be met with two hearts rapidly beating and two smiles lighting up the entire room.

[kryptonian-bat-thing]

Superman shows up at the Hall of Justice as everyone is minding their own business. Flash, Cyborg and Green Lantern are chatting by the cafeteria while Martian Manhunter and Aquaman are watching Hawkgirl spar with Wonder Woman.

The Man of Steel stops by each member and hands them a card and a box, each one decorated accordingly to their themes and likings.

"Happy Valentine's!" his smile flashes as he speaks. Tilting his head and turning to the sides, he then lifts an eyebrow. "Where's B?"

"Didn't show up today," Flash replies, unraveling the pretty lightning themed bow that held his gifted box shut. "Try checking the monitor room."

"He is not here. Perhaps he is patrolling Gotham at this hour." J'onn adds after a quick psychic scan, smiling to see the Oreo dessert that Superman got for him in his gift box.

Kal wishes them all a happy Valentine's day once again, before exiting and soaring to the sky in Gotham's direction. The early night settled in with the melting snow as he held close the last boxes on his strong hands.

"Superman!" a familiar voice reaches him, from the top of a sky scraper. He lowers himself to float near a small figure on top of a gargoyle.

"Hello, Robin! Have you seen Batman around?"

The small boy ties his thick eyebrows in a scowl. They are so much like his father's, Superman chuckles internally at the resemblance.

"Don't worry," he opens a friendly grin to the boy "I brought something for you as well. Jon sends his regards." Handing the smaller box to the boy, a flashy card with an attempted portrait drawn attached to it. Although he pretends he can't, Kal notices the hitch on the kid's heartbeat when he grabs and takes a look at the gift.

A nod as thanking, the boy wonder jumps off and grapples, disappearing into the Gotham night. Kal follows him with his head.

As he faces the dark, a known heartbeat comes behind him, in the shadows. He plays as though he can't hear it, waiting for the sign to acknowledge the Dark Knight's presence.

"Superman." it's broody as always, but not as cold as when they first met. A subtle fondness hides under the growling bat, as the hero swirls around to face it.

"Hey, B." he steps on the gargoyle as the other comes close to it as well. "Happy Valentine's."

"I told you not to wander into my city like that." lifting an eyebrow, the bat claims with his arms crossed over his chest. His gauntlets are dirty, as if he's just out of some punching and kicking criminals. Superman's sapphire eyes meet the cowl lenses with awkwardness as he fidgets with the last box.

It is black and wrapped with a bow with yellow hearts. It's no bigger than his two hands, but it feels like holding his own heart as he sticks it out for his best friend to grasp.

As Batman does so, his face twitches almost unnoticeably for anyone who isn't as close to the man as Superman is. He opens it slowly and gives into the urge to smile, a light smirk pulled on the edge of his lips.

"You shouldn't have." the Knight jokes, lifting up the silly plushies gifted by his friend. It's a Batman and a Superman plushie, but the man soon notices that they are united by some sewn strings on their stubby hands. Something is embroidered on them: Super Friends. The Bat can't help but chuckle.

"I know it's corny, but I thought it was fitting." the kryptonian approaches even more, his grin brighter than the sun itself. Batman traces over the message with his dark gloves, feeling how fresh and homemade these are compared to the rest of the plushies' sews.

He closes the gap between their faces, two figures on the inky skyline professing their closeness to each other. He hadn't even glanced at the clearly bought cards that said "you are my hero" and "be my Valentine".

[s-sugustar]

𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏 𝐎𝐅𝐅 — 𝖪．𝖭𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂

🎧﹒𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬﹒✢﹐— in a rush to get to work on time, Nanami forgets his lunch. You decide to show up and give it to him with a little surprise.

🎧﹒𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠﹒✢﹐— Sheriff!Kento Nanami x chubby!reader

🎧﹒𝐜𝐰﹒✢﹐— flirting, fluff, suggestive but no smut

🎧﹒𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞﹒✢﹐— drabble

🎧﹒𝐰𝐜﹒✢﹐— 646 words

"Mhm sugar, come onn." Kento groaned, his lips mushed against yours as his hands squeezed your hips. You giggled against his lips as your hands wrapped around his neck, pushing further into your husband. "Alright, alright woman, I got to go." Nanami said as he lifted you off of him. Sitting up in the bed, Nanami grabbed his phone, his other hand still wrapped around your waist as he scrolled through his phone. His eyes widen in shock as he checked the time, almost immediately unlatching from you before rushing to get up.

"B-baby, I love you too but I got- mph- I gotta go. I'm late." Kento tried reasoning with you but you weren't letting up on giving your husband kisses before he left. You were in the kitchen when you heard the front door closed, you turned to put away the dishes when you saw Nanami's black lunch bag sitting pretty on the counter. Chuckling at your husband's forgetfulness, you headed back over to the dishes before continuing on with your day.

Around 12 noon, you headed over to the station with the black lunch box in hand. With a pep in your step, you bounced lightly on your feet into the Sheriff headquarters; eyes bouncing back and forth until you found blond hair peaking from under a Sheriff hat with the silver and black watch that you had bought for him on his birthday. You stayed back until you saw him entering his office with the door closing behind him. With a smile towards all the other people within the prescient, you headed over to his office.

Kento heard a knock on his door before the door opened, immediately thinking that it was one of his subordinates. "Not the time Stilinski, I told you I'll check it out later." he answered, not looking up from the papers that were scattered on his desk. With a raised eyebrow and a sly smile adorning your lips, you replied, "Last time I checked, I wasn't a Stilinski but rather Mrs. Nanami." He looked up in surprise when he heard your voice echo through his voice.

"Baby, what are you doing here?" He asked, immediately throwing the remaining papers onto the desk before rushing up from his seat to come over to you. His hand splayed over your back as he ushered you to his chair. You waited for Kento to take a seat before you pulled your legs over his lap, making sure that you secured him within his seat. "Y/n." Kento warned, his eyes squinted. A wide grin spread on your face as you rolled your hips against his.

"What? I came to bring you lunch and have some time with my husband." You answered innocently. He smiled at your response, rolling his eyes at your antics he was oh so familiar with. "Every day I find another reason to love you even more." He replied, his eyes swirling with love and adoration as he stared at you. With every second passing, Kento poured out his love on to you with no words said.

He was glad that he had found someone like you, someone to ease his mind from the mountains of work that sat on his desk or the bunch of hooligans who decide to go wild for a day; he was glad that you were there for all of it. The only thing that stopped him from continuing his internal rant about how much he loves you was your voice, calling out to him like a siren luring a man in with her song. "Kenny, how about we find another reason for you to love me even more." you whined, already unbuttoning his blouse with your lips finding his neck.

Groaning in pleasure, Kento found his hands squeezing the plush of your thighs. "You really know how to get me going."

[phoxey]

„Who knew you could be so cheesy…“

Chocol x fem!reader

CW: none :) this is purest pure little fluff

AN: at the end cuz i don’t wanna spoil the oneshot

It was a cloudy November day. The Moon was barely to be seen and it was cold in the streets of Seoul.

Yet you were sweating. You stood in a small underground club, panting but grinning as heavy hiphop music blasted out the speakers. It was a smaller dance battle event but the place was crowded. In front of you the orange haired beast that was your girlfriend. But in this dancebattle she was your opponent and you weren’t going to go easy on her.

In her turn she threw every possible impressive move at you. It seemed like she really wanted to win over you. You knew that this battle wouldn’t be finished on this stage, but rather continued later in your bed in the apartment of you two. You had the deal, that whenever you two battled, the winner could control the sexy time in the evening.

Smirking you bit your lip, when she did that ground move of hers. It always made you go crazy over her and she knew it. Your girlfriend was so impressive and with every passing moment you fell in love more and more.

How can a person be so talented? So beautiful? So handsome? So gentle? So rough? So perfectly imperfect? So smart? So foolish?

She was everything at once. The whole package. And the Bonus? She was yours. Yours alone.

At the end of her turn she came to a halt before you and winked at you teasingly. Chuckling you pushed her back, by her waist. To be honest, you just wanted to feel her body in your hands for a moment. The entire day had been so hectic, so this was the first time of the day that you touched her. You felt how deprived you were. Chocol had been out with Haechi and Mini the entire day, doing god knows what.

You had a different style than Chocol, less wavy motions, less floor work. It was a hard hiphop style with krump elements sprinkled into it. And the music was yours, so that would be an easy win, you thought. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the judges nodding approvingly, but your eyes were fixed on your girlfriend. You copied her ending move and finished, standing in front if her and winking cheekily.

Chocols second turn started slowly and she had that smug grin plastered onto her face, she was planning something. You wondered what, because she had already used up all her killer moves.

A record scratch ripped you out if your thought process. Suddenly „Marry you“ by Bruno Mars was playing. Confused you looked over to the DJ, who was just grinning at you. You looked back to your girlfriend, to see if she knew what was going on. What Chocol was dancing, wasn’t a battle dance anymore. It was a Choreography.

She mixed some b-boying into her dance it seemed, as she swirled around on her knees and before you knew it, she was kneeling in front of you and was holding a black box in her hand. The music faded out. Even the crowds chatter died down. Everyone, including you, was holding their breath.

„We have been through endless battles together, on and off stage. For the past ten years you supported me through every storm and every war that i fought, especially the ones against myself. When in doubt you were always there. When we are apart i can think about nothing but the moment i will have you in my arms again. And when we fight, i am not afraid, because i know in the end it is you and me against the problem. You read me like an open book. You always know what to say and do to cheer me up. Though, if i am being honest, your mere existence makes me happy. Seeing you makes me happy. Hearing your sweet voice and laugh makes me happy. Holding and kissing you makes me happy. I want to make you happy as well… for the rest of my life i want to be the reason you smile and feel good. Please let me take care of you for the rest of my life and become my wife?“, she asked and opened the box. A simple but beautiful ring shimmered there.

The hand that had covered your mouth in shock, slowly reached for Chocol as you slowly nodded, as though you were in trance.

„Yes, oh god… yes, please.“, you whispered and the crowd erupted in cheers.

Chocol beamed happily and stood up. You jumped into her arms and quietly sobbed happy tears into her neck. Then she pulled away to slide the ring onto your finger. Gently she peppered your face in kisses.

„I love you.“, you whispered.

„I love you more.“, she whispered back.

Grinning you shook your head and pushed her playfully.

„Who knew you could be so cheesy…“

********

AN: This is how i want someone to propose to me... doesn't have to be Chocol. Doesn't have to be one of the SWF girlies... i just need a dancer gf, i suppose, so i can battle against her and have her propose to me.

[allophonicmess]

Sweetest Taste

Masterlist

15th Doctor x Reader (One Shot)

Part of the Doctor and Sun universe but can be read as a stand-alone

SMUT ( fem oral reciving & P in V)

4.3K

Tags: Fluff, Smut, body worship, consent, unprotected sex, established relationship

June offered the perfect time to visit London's Kensington Park for a stroll. Living in the bustling, vibrant city, you came to love it over the years. The park gates acted like a separator between the cold, busy and unpersonal streets and the lush green gardens that offered a sense of connectedness for the visitors, allowing them to escape from the pressure of the city and simply decompress and be.

You pulled at your clothes, making sure that you looked your best. It wasn't your first meeting; it was far from it. Yet, this day marked your first proper meeting with him in this new body, and it made you both excited and nervous, just like the previous times you two saw each other again with new eyes. Literally.

You felt a grin spread over your lips as you passed the black gates that separated the greenery from the greyish street. Passing the café, you stood momentarily, eyes wandering over the small, chapel-like building, the calm scene, and artistically set up plans in the middle of the grass. To your left, the view opened into the display of dark-orange cranesbills, lavender and other flowers. The ensemble reminded you of the sunset, rich in colour and contrast. Behind it, a line of angular ponds, lined with waterplants and accompanied by beautifully crafted benches, created the scene of the Italian Gardens.

This was the place you had decided to meet. You stayed on the reddish pavement, following one of the main routes through the park. The white oldtimer turned ice cream vendor stood in its usual place, attracting a small crowd of eager customers. They had formed a line, waiting patiently for their turn to receive their sweet treat.

"Should have clarified the time we meet", you mainly mumbled to yourself. You had told him when and where to meet you but in a more broad sense. Yet daytime also played a key role. You looked around for a moment. Perhaps a walk would be good to pass the time. You could follow the Long Water, take a look at one of the many statues and then come back a little later to see if he arrived at your set location. Or you could start searching for the big, blue police telephone box. It shouldn't be hard to find unless he fixed the chameleon circuit. Perhaps this new Doctor got tired of the Tardis' look, but you doubt it.

"Figured you'd be here around noon. Love to spend your-"He continued, but you interrupted him, finishing the sentence alongside him.

"Well, good on me to have thought of that" he spoke, the playful tone of his new voice made your grin before you consciously processed it. It was as if your body was drawn to him, able to recognise it anywhere, regardless of sound, tone or pitch. Always recognising, always drawn to it.

You turned around with a soft gasp, and there he stood. A big, inviting smile stretched over his face, adorned by a thin, trimmed moustache. His eyes held a twinkle that you couldn't quite explain. Youthful joy and pure ecstasy were the best words you could find. There were two ice cones, one in each hand. 99 Flake, you noticed. Vanilla soft ice with a chocolate flake, Simple yet classy.

"-lunch break in the park." You chuckled, approaching him and taking the cool dessert with a soft "Thank you".

"Bring some ice cream, you said. And here we are!" he cheered with a joyous laugh. You nodded, letting your eyes wander over his new look. He had changed; he put on some actual clothes. You didn't mind his 50/50 Bi-generation look, but it was… impractical for travelling.

He noticed your wandering eyes and decided to play into it. The Doctor stepped back, giving you a little swirl that made his orange leather coat swish. He had dressed up nicely. The outfit was new, certainly different from what he used to wear, yet it suited him so very well.

It reflected him, the healed and refreshed mindset expressed in daybreak's bright and daring colours. He wore light, striped sneakers, contrasting with the dark blue trousers. 'He really put some thought into this,' you thought, noticing the repetition of colours on his top. The zipper of his striped jumper was opened halfway, revealing the view of the necklace set he wore. An orange gem on one chain and an odd-looking golden shape on the other. They rested over a soft patch of dark chest hair that you took immediate interest in.

"You like it?" He asked with a flirty wink, stepping closer again and taking your free hand.

"Yeah, very stylish. It's new. Different, but I think it looks great. Especially the jewellery." You admired, feeling the cool metal of his ringers against your hand as you squeezed it to emphasise your comment.

"Thanks, darling." He chuckled softly, eyes moving from your face to the hand which held your now semi-melted ice cream that threatened to spill over your fingers.

"You want to lick that away before you get your hands dirty." He nodded towards it.

You quickly breathe a soft 'oh', turning the cone in your hand to clean it up. The sweet and creamy liquid made you hum in delight. You noticed that the Doctor was about to be in the same predicament as you. The molten cream snailing over the wafer.

"Same with yours. Don't want to make a mess." You joked, looking him in the eye. But he stayed serious, keeping eye contact for longer than you would find appropriate for the situation.

Then, there was a shift in the air around you. The soft reunion of lovers turning into something else…

His eyes focused on you as he licked away a streak of melted ice cream that dared to run down the cone. Those dark eyes watching you intently, clearly aware of the sexual allusion the action carried.

He grinned cheekily at your loss of words, clearly aware of what he was doing to you. But he wanted to take his sweet time with you. He enjoyed teasing you before, always did, but now it had a different tone to it. He felt a rush, watching you struggle; your attraction to him was undeniable.

Oh goodness, that stare was stirring something in you.

You released a breath, eyes following his pink tongue slide along the brown wafer with perfect pressure. He took his sweet time, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

"Uh…" You started, gasped really, at a loss of words. Regeneration was a gamble, and you won.

"My plan?" You asked, shifting in your seat to get a better look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Do you want to sit down?" He asked softly, sweetly, with an innocent look. He waited for your approving nod, then placed his arm around your waist to lead you to one of the benches that lined the fountains.

You tried to calm down and get your pulse back to normal. You had seen him just yesterday. The other version of him, still him though. But this new factette of him thrilled you, willing to play along in his little game. It only would make winning the price sweeter and much more satisfying.

The two of you sat down on a bench. The wood under you had been warmed in the sun, making for a cosy spot. The Doctor moved in closely, placing one arm over the backrest. His hand rested on your shoulder and arm, stroking over it in a slow, calming motion.

"You chose a lovely spot", He commented, watching the place and people around him. He slid a little closer, making your thighs touch. He looked into the distance, where the Long Water widened into a river.

"So what's your plan?" He turned back to you, taking a lazy lick of his treat. He was almost finished.

"I was wondering how you want to proceed now. Do you want to keep your routine? Work, here on Earth? Travel?" He squeezed your shoulder, waiting patiently for your response. His head was turned back, the light shifting in his short, dark hair. The colour bordering between black and a lush midnight blue.

"I liked the routine. Me staying here, taking care of Earth while you are off. You taking me on dates when you find the time." You shrugged.

"Oh yeah? I'm glad to hear it." He pulled you in for another kiss. It was less passionate but undoubtedly made you feel his love. The Doctor petted your face quietly, watching you with warm admiration.

He sighed, something shifting behind his eyes. "I should have made more time for you." He whispered with some sense of grief behind it. "You deserve so much more than what I offered you." He moved even closer, and the arm around you pulled you into him. His hand moved towards your face.

He held your face gently, fingers curled and ringed knuckles resisting against your pulse as his thumb glided over your cheek.

"That will change now. You will be my priority." His eyes moved between your eyes and your lips, silently asking for permission to kiss you. You granted it, leaning forward to meet him in a soft, shy kiss. It was new, different to the feeling and rhythm you were used to. But you adapted, just like so many times prior. You found a new rhythm with him, lips moving in a sweet dance.

The two of you only let go to catch a breath of air, grinning shyly at each other like smitten teenagers. "You liked that?" He whispered with a breathy chuckle. Your actions, visible acceptance of this new version of him, took away the feeling of nervousness.

"Yeah, very much." You replied with a smile, just as relieved as him. Change was a constant in your lives. Things and people; everything was constantly changing. Yet you remained.

"I'll admit: I'm a fan of this." You vaguely motioned towards him, his face and body. "It suits you." Your own smile widened as he seemed to light up. The complement boosted his already strong confidence and charm. He radiated a warmth that you just wanted to bask in.

You didn't mind the silence. It felt easy and natural. But you were giddy, high on his smile and the joy you felt. So your brain went into overdrive, leading to making a silly confession.

"You know what I couldn't stop thinking about?" You asked, unable to hold back a childish giggle, already overly excited to reveal it.

"What?" He asked, watching you intently.

"Those thighs." You giggled, placing a hand on his left leg for emphasis. The woolly material of his trousers was rather rough against your fingers. But you felt his warmth seeping through the pant leg.

"Is that so?" He grinned. First, it was innocent, playing to your joke. But then it turned hungry before shifting into a stern expression.

And there it was again, that tension around you.

"You know what I kept thinking about?" He asked, his thumb tracing your lip.

You only managed to let out a breath of air. Yet he took it as a response to reveal it to you.

"I kept thinking about how sweet you will taste on this new tongue."

Oh, you were done for.

Your eyes met his. A spark was ignited the moment you saw the lust and longing reflected in his intense stare.

"Take me. Now."

What ensued was a mad rush for the Tardis. He grabbed your hand and practically dragged you off to the location of the well-known police call box. He had parked it just outside the other park gates. There, resting in the shade of tall plane trees, right next to old and out-of-use red telephone boxes. You would have laughed at it and appreciated the joke if it hadn't been for the delicious ache between your legs and the heat that flushed your body.

The Doctor practically ripped open the Tardis door, letting you in before him. He stepped in quickly and slammed the door shut the moment you were both inside. And not even a second later, you found yourself pressed against said door. Pillowy lips caressed yours as soft hums escaped between them, and strong hands grasped at your sides. All you could see and feel was him.

You threw your arms around his neck, gently scratching his neck and toying with the collar of his leather coat. That evoked a hiss from him; his tone made pain and pleasure mix.

"Need more of you." He hissed, placing his hands under your ass and pulling you up. You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles behind him to create stability. Thank the universe for Timelords' strength. He didn't carry you very far, though, slowly setting you down on the edge of the Tardis console. The surface was slightly sloped, but the new design allowed for free space between the control elements. You believe it might even have been made like this on purpose. Naughty machine.

This new position allowed you to be on eye level with the Doctor, if not, being a little taller than him. He noticed it, too, breaking away from you and grinning at you with marvel. You placed your hands on his jaw, feeling the skin there, the shaved hair over his sharp cheekbones. You pulled him in for another kiss, this time leading him in it. You held him there momentarily before your hands smoothed over his neck, along his ears and back down to the coat collar. A tuck signified him to shrug it off, and he obliged. The garment fell to the floor with a soft swoosh, leaving him in his jumper and pants.

You broke the kiss slowly, pressing your forehead to his as your hands wandered over his shoulders and back, feeling the strong yet lean muscle underneath the woolly material. He did the same, tugging at your jacket and shirt in the hope of finally being able to touch your skin. You let the coat slip from your arms, lifting them immediately to let him pull off your shirt. It left you in only your bra, sitting on the white metal console.

"You look like a goddess", He sighed, going for your neck and the soft spot behind your ear. The kisses there turned into playful nibbles as he carefully held the skin between his teeth to suck at it. It made you gasp, a shower running down your spine. You pulled the Doctor into an even closer embrace, hands holding him firmly.

He hummed against your skin, hands massaging the skin of your waste. His lips moved lower, over your clevis, down to the spot on your breast bone just above where your breasts connected to the skin. He licked down a stripe, only halting when he was stopped by your bra. It made him look up.

"Will you allow me to find out?" He looked you deep in the eye, waiting for your consent. His fingers were tracing along the hem of your jeans, eager to have you be rid of them. You nodded, holding onto his shoulders.

"I need you to use your words, darling." He kissed your jaw for emphasis; his right hand had moved up to the small of your back, tracing the spot where your spine connected.

"Yes, please." You managed to answer, already pushing yourself up on his shoulders to make it easier to free yourself of your pants. He grinned, making quick work of the zipper and button. He freed the jeans and underwear from under you with a swift pull. His hands explored the now-exposed skin of your thighs before pulling off your shoes to take off your pants for good.

He sighed at the view in front of him. Lips skimming over your thighs as he slowly and gracefully got to his knees. His hands traced over your back and down to your hips, squeezing them. The Doctor looked like he was about to pray, eyes focused up at you in admiration, soft breaths excepting through his slightly opened lips. He pulled you forward by your hips, making you lean forward and stabilise yourself with one hand on his shoulder and one on the console.

"My good girl." He whispered into the soft skin of your thigh, the moustache deliciously ticking you. His hands were on your knees, keeping your legs spread for him.

"Let me have some of that sweet taste." He mumbled before he oh so slowly licked over your core. You gasped, feeling his hot breath on you and heavenly pleasure against your clit. He kept his eyes focused on you, licking in slow motions before taking your pleasure bud in his mouth and gently sucking on it. The sensation was otherworldly, making you throw your head back. Years of experience had made him so good at making you gasp and scream, and the regeneration into a woman had evidently benefited his understanding of female pleasure.

He kept at it, lapping at you like his life depended on it. At some point, one of his hands had moved from your knees to your thigh, massaging it gently in the rhythm of his licks. You weren't going to last long if he kept going like this.

You moaned softly, trying to gather the energy and will to make him move. While this was great, you needed to feel him inside you.

A hand was placed on his head, making him stop to look at you.

"Too much?" He asked; the wet shine of your juices on his moustache made you even hotter.

"No, it's great, but I need you to feel you." You explained weakly, "I need to feel you inside me." You slid slightly lower on the console to get down on shaky legs, hoping they could hold you up.

But he was faster, swiftly getting back on his feet to carry you like he did before. The dark wool was rubbing against your core deliciously with each step as he carried you over the ramp towards the bedroom.

The Doctor placed you on the edge of the bed with just as much care and admiration as he had picked you up with. He was crouched before you, smiling softly in anticipation. You grinned, smoothing your hands over his neck and over the cool metal of his jewellery. The zipper of his jumper was only halfway open, so you took the little metal handle to open it fully, allowing you access to the gentle splatter of chest hair. Your hands moved over his torso, but you had to stop as the material offered no more room before the seams would give away.

"You are overdressed", You stated, making him chuckle. He readily lifted your arms to help get rid of his clothes. Fingers snuck under the waistband of his pants, grabbing onto not only the jumper and the light undershirt as well.

"Much better", you mumbled, placing your hands on his chest to explore it. He was fitter than you expected. Muscles stretched and flexed under your hands, and he brought his arms back down to hold your shoulders, pushing the straps of your bra down. He moved awkwardly from one foot to the other to shrug off his trainers.

That left him in his socks and pants. Still, too much, you decided and started fumbling with the button of his trousers.

"You got what you wanted. Let me see those legs again." You joked, making him laugh as he freed himself of the last of his clothing. He leaned over you, kissing you softly as he worked on the hooks of your bra. It hadn't been long since the two of you had had sex. But not with this body; it excited you to feel him again.

You slid back on the bed, allowing him to kneel and hover over you. The bra had been taken care of and thrown on the pile of clothing on the floor at the foot of the bed. You were getting ready to lay on the bed, having moved the duvet and additional pillows aside, but the Doctor stopped you.

"Can we try something?" He asked, still leaning over you, hands caressing your neck and the back of your shoulders as you turned towards him.

"Yeah, sure." You answered, interested in what he had in mind.

He kissed you again, gently holding your lower lip between his teeth before letting it go to focus on you.

"I want you on top." He stated simply. Kissing along your neck, fingers tracing your sides. "I want to watch you take what you need." He spoke against your chest in between soft kisses. "Is that alright?"

He asked, and you never knew that asking you for your consent to try something new would be so hot.

"Yes," You hissed. He had taken one of your nipples in his mouth, gently sucking on it and holding the other breast in his hand. His thumb was moving over the other in soft circles.

"Lovely." He commented, giving your chest one last kiss before leaning away from you to arrange the pillows to make himself comfortable. A few were placed against the headboard, allowing him to lie in a half-sitting position. The Doctor nodded to you, signalling that he was ready.

"C'mon then. Let me feel you." He beckoned you, hissing in pleasure when you moved over to him, lowering yourself over his lap. His cock was half erect, so you pumped it a few times, letting the tip grace over your folds.

"You are so good", He whispered, eyes closed in pleasure. He reached for your body, hands exploring your back. "So good to me." He mumbled, already drunk on you.

You positioned him, slowly lowering yourself into his lap and moaning in pleasure just as he did. You took a few breaths, stabilising yourself on his shoulders. He felt different but filled you oh so deliciously.

"I'm gonna move now." You announced, making him nod. His hands had found their place on your hips, pulling your torso a little forward. He looked up as you filled his vision. You looked ethereal; the dimmed light of the Tardis was behind you, creating a halo around you.

"My goddess, my sweet sweet girl." He groaned, pushing his hips into yours to reach deeper.

He held you, slowly pulling your chest into him. You were both catching your breaths, lying in a loving embrace.

You were both getting close.

He held you as you rode him, feeling blissful to see the expression of pleasure on your face. You felt your core tighten. His gentle fingers and thrusts move you closer to the edge.

"Go on," He said, moving onto his elbows to kiss along your neck. "Take what you need. I want to see you come."

His encouragement drove you closer; you fasten your paste while he uses his hands on your hips to push himself more deeply with each thrust. You were becoming hazy, so close to that sweet release. He noticed it, too, finding the soft spot behind your ear and sucking on it gently.

That threw you over the edge, coming with a gasp. You could feel your cervix pulsating, squeezing him inside you.

"That's it." He chuckled softly, but it quickly turned into a moan as he, too, came. The sight of your orgasm, the fact that his words and actions had helped you reach that sweet spot. It gave him the last push to tip over the edge and cum.

"I love you so much", He mumbled against your ear, fingers skimming over your back and holding you close.

You hummed, "I Love you, too. Till the end of time," You turned your head away from its position against his neck to kiss him softly.

You stayed that way for a moment longer, petting each other gently and sharing kisses. With a soft groan, you let his cook slip out. You managed to shift onto the side, leaning next to him. You were spent, happy to feel the soft comfort of the bed underneath you.

The Doctor sat up to reach for the duvet at the foot of the bed, placing it over the two of you. He had lifted his arm to let you move on his chest, just like you always did.

No words were spoken as you moved to place your head on his chest, your free hand gently laying next to it. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, arm wrapped around you and fingers smoothing over your arm in a slow back and forth.

He sighed, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of you next to him. He wouldn't mind staying like this for the rest of his life and the ones following it.

You shifted a little to look at him, your eyes meeting, smiling softly at each other.

"What do you want to do now?" You asked softly, drawing patterns into his skin.

He hummed, thinking for a moment.

"The club? You go partying?" You asked, chucking at the absurd idea. He had never been to a club, not that you knew about. But with each regeneration came new quirks.

"I wouldn't mind a nap." He joked, smile widening as he saw you laugh. He squeezed your shoulder softly before leaning back.

"How about a nap. And then we go to the club?" He offered.

"Yeah, I feel like we should go to a club. Maybe something exciting will happen." He winked, leaning forward to kiss you again before settling into the pillows and closing his eyes.

[604to647]

Birthday Present

1.3K / Javier Pena x fem!reader

Summary: Someone leaves you a birthday present on your desk.

Warnings: Angst, pining and yearning, but also some hurt, allusion to past relationship, allusions to smut, allusions to infidelity (possible/perceived? left ambiguous on purpose), reader is described as having hair that can be adorned with accessories, set in the Escobar seasons of Narcos (but which one/when is up to you), reader works at the embassy (my h/c is in Treasury because I only know how to write Finance girlies, but it's not important)

A/N: I've had a Javi P story swirling in my head for a long time, long before I even conceptualized Safest with You; but I'm fully committed to SwY right now, and don't think I have it in me to write another multi-chapter fic at the same time. So here is just a little angsty one shot of these two dummies; maybe one day I'll revisit and write the longer story for them that they deserve.

Multiple hands usher you to the office breakroom, where everyone from Treasury and several people from other embassy departments are waiting with a cake adorned with lit candles.  Someone dims the lights and the crowd starts singing “Happy Birthday” to you as you smile and welcome their kind attention.  After the candles are blown out and cake slices dispensed, you give your thanks after some small talk and leave most of the crowd to enjoy their midafternoon break.  Making your way back to your desk carrying the paper plate with your generous slice of cake, you’re surprised to see a small black velvet box with a red bow sitting on top of your files. Momentarily confused, you have to think back to remember that it certainly hadn’t been there when you left for the break room earlier.  You pick up the box and find it to be quite light; as you turn it over in your hands, you look around to see who it might be from.  Unfortunately, most people are either still having cake or just returning to their desks as you have, so there's no one who would have been around to see who left it.

You sit down and open the box; inside, resting on the soft black fabric, are two matching metal hair clips, each with a small, delicate looking silver bird adorning its end.  They’re beautiful and subtle, definitely something that would have caught your eye at an antique store – these were not purchased at any of the local souvenir stores near the embassy, that was for sure.  Your knee jerk reaction is to think they’re from Javier.  Among his many names of endearment for you, his favourite had been to call you his pretty bird. 

But you weren’t his pretty bird anymore.  No, you hold up one of the hand-crafted clips in your hand to admire it, these weren’t from Javi.  He had no reason to give you a gift with such sentiment.

Not when he hadn’t spoken a word to you in the two months since he had broken your heart; not even a word that night you had silently pieced together the scene in his apartment with the beautiful half naked woman on his couch and him standing in the living room shirtless, his pants unbuttoned.  You had apologized for interrupting before leaving your key to his apartment on the kitchen counter, then crying, made your way upstairs to ask the Murphys if you could use their phone to call a car.

You had felt so stupid.  It was entirely your fault for letting Javi break your heart.  You had heard all the whispered warnings around the office of Agent Javier Pena’s philandering ways; some shared as jovial gossip, but also some more bitter testimonials.  But that hadn’t been the man who had helped translate your clumsy Spanish with the Columbian embassy staff.  Or the one who had gently threaded his fingers through yours when unwinding from stressful days over long, lazy dinners. And it hadn’t been the man who had been too shy to cross the threshold of your apartment until you practically yanked him in and let him pull orgasm after orgasm from you until you nearly forgot your own name.  So you had ignored the murmurs about his reputation, allowing what had to be hubris to think it wouldn’t apply to you.  And you had fallen in love with Javier Pena.  You fell head over heels for the puppy eyed, baritone voiced gruff who cared more deeply about his work and the innocent people of Columbia than anyone knew; who had a tender heart that hurt every time Escobar’s violence touched lives that he, Javi, could not save.  With his words and his gentle and not so gentle touches, Javier had made you believe he had fallen in love with you too.  In the end, it must have simply been another weapon in his arsenal of charm to keep his bed occupied and his roster of rotating paramours never ending.  You had fallen for it, thinking you had somehow been special, when of course, you weren’t. Stupid.

No, Javi had no reason to think of you on your birthday.  The gift wasn’t from him.  But this certainty comes with another realization close on its heels: that despite everything, a small part of you wished it was.

---

Javi had waited patiently the entire day, peeking out the door of the DEA office he shared with Steve, down the hall to the big windows of the Treasury department to watch for when you would leave your desk.  All day long, people came by to wish you happy birthday, and you had smiled sweetly at everyone and thanked them for their felicitations. 

Never once did you look down the hall in his direction, but it had been months since you had done so.  It used to be a secret ritual between the two of you; when the DEA would rush down this same hallway for a raid or mission, you would lock eyes with him and mouth words of encouragement, a simple “Be careful” or “Come back”, and him countering “Always” with a cocky smirk, but eyes filled with adoration.  And he had kept that promise every time, always returning to you and proving his devotion over and over with his words, his hands, his mouth, his cock.  Worshipping you, really.  His pretty bird.  The most perfect creature to have ever stepped foot in the US Embassy; sweet, smart, a force to be reckoned with, but most of all, kind, and by some miracle, you saw those same qualities in him.  You made him feel like a better man that he was, and loved him for all that he strived to be.  He had never wanted to be separated from you.

Now he could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times you had addressed him directly in the last two months: once in a meeting and once while crossing paths in the Ambassador’s office - a polite nod followed by, “Agent.”

Agent.

As if you didn’t know his name.

As if you hadn’t cried it out over and over while writhing in pleasure beneath him.

As if you hadn’t whispered it following the three sweetest words he ever heard from you.

I love you, Javier.

I love you more, pretty bird.

And now it was “Agent”.  Now you hated him. But he still loved you so, so much.

So he had waited until your entire department had left for birthday cake before slipping into the vacated room and leaving your present on your desk.  He had seen the hair clips in the window of a little Columbian antique store while on a recon mission in a village outside of Bogota; thinking of you immediately when he saw them and how perfect they would look in your soft hair.  He had bought them that day, but the box had been sitting in his desk ever since, waiting for a way to make it into your hands where it belonged.

He knew he couldn’t give them to you directly, he was still unable to face you; he had already seen devastation and hurt replace what used to be love and admiration in your eyes the night he didn't stop you from leaving his apartment, allowing you to think he had cheated on you. He was too much of a coward to face those same eyes now and what he might see: disappointment, hate.  Impatiently, he hovers in the safety of his office doorway, waiting for you to discover your gift.  When you do, he watches your face go from surprise, to thoughtful confusion, to delight as you admire the hair clips.  Your eyes seem bright and a little bit sad as you examine the little bird decorating the barrette in the light.  He breathes a little sigh of relief when you ultimately smile and put the dainty accessory away, slipping the gift box into your purse.

Javier hopes you love your present.  He wishes he could help you attach the hair clips to your hair, but contents himself with knowing that when you wear them, you will be carrying his love with you, even if you don’t know it.

[lov3m3darling]

Apple of my Eye (Obsessed!Wally Darling x Short!Reader) Pt. 1

Some lovesick Wally for ya! Nothing too extreme, he just thinks you're marvelous :3

!!!(TW: obsessive behaviors, eye imagery)!!!

Reader is gn of course! Enjoy!

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Before you moved in, Wally felt his life was mundane. Sure, he had fun and he loved his friends, but it always felt like something was missing.

But when he came outside one day and noticed a new house had popped up, something about it drew him in. Maybe it was the (favorite color) exterior, or the freshly planted flowers in the boxes under your windows...or maybe it was the sweet smell coming from an open window. He recognized it instantly...apples!

Curiously, he approached the window and peeked inside.

And there you were...

Humming a pretty song in your apron as you busied yourself at the stove. And for the very first time, Wally felt somehow warm.

"Um, hello neighbor!" he finally managed to say after watching for a little while.

You jumped a little and turned around to see a pair of black eyes and a blue swirl of hair over the edge of the windowsill. You laughed.

"Oh gosh, you startled me!"

"I-I'm awful sorry..." Wally replied, suddenly a little nervous around you.

"No, that's alright. I just wasn't expecting company. You can come in, if you want"

Excited, he ran around to the front of the house and came inside. Only then did he realize you had been standing on a stool to cook...you were just about the same height as him!

You smiled at him.

"There, now we can meet properly! I'm (y/n)"

(Y/n)...he was positive your name was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He repeated it over and over in his mind, until it dawned on him that you must be waiting to hear his name too.

"I like that name. I am Wally...Wally Darling"

He pointed to the window.

"I live in that red house with the eyes! Their name is Home"

You looked puzzled.

"Your house is alive?"

You looked up to see the pupils in the windows looking right at you.

"Oh! Hello, Home.." you called, waving. One of the window shutters opened and closed a few times, almost like they were waving back. You weren't sure what, but something about Home's eyes made you shiver.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you Wally"

Oh...another gorgeous sound. His name on your lips made him absolutely giddy, and he wasn't sure why. He sighed happily, hearts in his eyes, as you turned back to the skillet on the stove.

"Oh, they're done! Say, Wally...do you like apples?"

He could marry you right now.

"They're my favorite thing!"

"Well, I've just made a little treat from back home you might like then! Ever had them cooked up with cinnamon and sugar?"

You hopped off the stool and showed him. He seemed very curious.

"No, I don't think so. I had a candy apple one time for Halloween and it was very nice...but that doesn't look like apples"

You laughed.

"Well, they're cut into slices. Want some?"

"Yes, I'd like that"

Wally was unsure about trying it, but truthfully, he just wanted more time with you. Something about you was comforting and warm, and you were certainly nice to look at.

You grabbed a blue plate and a (fav color) plate for the two of you and dished it up before sitting down at the kitchen table with him.

Strangely, he seemed to only take a bite when you weren't looking. But you didn't want to be rude by asking about it...maybe he didn't like eating when people were watching.

Meanwhile, Wally was in awe. He never knew apples could be even better than they already were. Where had you been all his life??

The hearts were back in his eyes as he watched you finish your last few bites. You wiped your mouth and smiled at him.

"So, what'd you think Wally?"

There it was again...that warmth.

"Oh, I liked it very much! Um, maybe you could make it again...and...we could have a picnic. After I show you around town, that is..."

Oh golly, where had this confidence come from?! He didn't even mean to ask you out when you asked him that question! The words just tumbled out!

You blinked a few times, blushing slightly, before a smile spread across your face yet again.

"Are...are you asking me on a...date?"

"M-Maybe...would you like that?"

"Maybe I would. Maybe I think you're a cutie"

Aaand he's melted. Absolutely butter. Putty in your hands.

"So...?"

"Yes, Wally, I'd love to. Come by tomorrow and I'll pack us up a picnic basket"

You said your bashful goodbyes and Wally practically floated out the door. He was halfway Home when he realized he had no idea what to do on a date, and his "heart" dropped. Uh oh, he better go see Barnaby.

Meanwhile, you were clearing the plates and noticed the strangest thing...

Wally's fork was still totally clean and unused.

💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙

That's right, MULTIPLE PARTSSS!

I'm doing the best I can with my writing, but things haven't been great for my mental health lately. I thought I had found a place to move but it didn't end up working out and I've been kind of depressed the past few days. But I am starting to feel better! Pulled myself out of it and managed to clean my room and get a shower yesterday so I'd say I'm doing alright. Anyone who struggles with depression knows how hard those little things can be, and if you did a thing today, I'm proud of you! 💙

Anyways, sorry for rambling! More of this story to come! (It IS gonna get obsessive soon, promise)

[undiscovered-horizon]

O Rubor Sanguinis - Kaz Brekker x Grisha!Reader

[vulgar language]

[Part 1 - Agnus Dei]

SUMMARY: The Black General docks in Ketterdam and the lives of all four of you depend on booby traps set around the city and whether you really are as powerful as you're led to believe. Standing face to face with the man who's been haunting your family for years, can you stop yourself from becoming a monster?

Kaz may not be the bear he likes to appear as.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.7k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

Inej is finally back. Her return has a strange property - it resolves one tension just to build another. But no one is expecting this day to go any differently. You don’t look for sunlight under grim, dark clouds.

“The ship docked,” she informs. 

Three pairs of eyes turn to look at you, watching in anticipation. Guilt and shame swirl inside your chest once again. From this moment on, they are your responsibility. Each bruise, cut and wound they will suffer is as if done by your hand.

You clench your fist to stop the hand from shaking and take in a ragged breath. “Let’s go over this one last time. The main goal is to separate Kirigan from the Second Army soldiers. Our advantage is that we know Ketterdam a lot better.”

“And we set traps,” Jesper adds with visible thrill.

“Exactly,” you point at him with a snap of your fingers. It’s the second best thing to saying ‘a point for you’. “You can’t take on Kirigan’s Grisha all at once, so send them on a wild goose chase through the city. They don’t know much about tactics, they’ll just throw whatever they have at you, for better or worse. While you’re boxing in the Second Army, I’m fighting the Black General.”

A moment of reflective silence falls among the four of you. Jesper, Kaz and Inej exchange glances, then their eyes return to scrutinizing your face. Something’s the matter.

“You’re actually going to kill him?” Inej asks with a hint of disbelief. It’s hard to say whether she’s sceptical you can do it or in awe that it might work, after all. Although the words came from her, you’re well aware that she’s voicing everyone’s thoughts - even your own.

A sigh escapes your lips as you look away from them for a moment. The anticipating stares feel like red hot cauteries; vultures waiting for any sign of their prey passing on. “Only if I have to. Kaz is right, taking down someone of his calibre may be brave but it is impossibly stupid.”

Brekker takes this as a cue to put in his own two cents. “They won’t make it easy,” his tone is harsh. “The Black General expects resistance. He’s not taking prisoners.” Kaz pauses for a moment, probably to accentuate the seriousness of the ridiculous plan they’re about to carry out. “No mourners.”

“No funerals,” the rest of you answer him in unison. It’s more a habit, a reflex, rather than a conscious effort. 

A sting appears in your chest - with a hand on your heart, can you honestly promise this to Kaz? That by nightfall you will not be the one buried underneath streets of Ketterdam?

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Kaz looking at the side of your face. Something’s on his mind, some thought that begs to be set free but he manages to keep it hidden. You don’t acknowledge this observation and leave the club, taking up one of the most reckless thing you could probably come up with.

The widespread panic started somewhere after the first detonation - when one of the Squallers got their face burnt off with phosphorus, causing all of the Ketterdam citizens in the vicinity to run around with a scream on their lips. Overlooking the ramming herd, the explosive did its job and Kirigan’s Grisha soon dispersed through the better portion of the city. Now they are a responsibility to be handled by Kaz, Jesper and Inej. The only thing you can do for them is trust that Veles is looking away from Ketterdam.

You weave the alleyways and streets of the grim city in search of Him. The sounds of fighting are once close by and other times distant. Each whine of agony, a moan of pain, makes your heart stop beating until you’re sure that the miserable shout does not belong to any of your friends. But you can’t know whether the next scream will not come from their lungs. That realization makes you clench your fist a little too tight, nails digging into your skin - the three of them are risking their lives, so you have a chance. It’s only fair that you put your fear on the farthest shelf.

With a newfound determination, you storm through the streets of Ketterdam, never paying attention to anything that doesn’t even remotely resemble the black robe of the General. People run past you but you shove them away. A flame flies towards the sky in a column of frenzy a few streets ahead of you. Not your circus, not your monkeys.

Then, the rim of heavy, black material flashes before your eyes right when it disappears around the corner. Anxiety once again blossoms in your chest but you stifle it, ripping it away from your soul and discarding it with a chunk of sensibility and compassion.

The alley is deserted. A narrow, uneven cobblestone road goes up and down, a true nightmare for a cart. A man dressed in all black is strolling through the street, unbothered by the widespread panic and fights across Ketterdam. Truthfully, you’ve never seen the Black General, only heard about him but at that moment, seeing the proud posture and elegant robes, you know it’s him.

“Черный батюшка!” you call out to the stranger.

He immediately stops walking. First looking over his shoulder, then turning around, Kirigan is facing you for the very first time in his life. Despite that, he knows you’re the rabbit he’s been chasing. The deserted street where no civilian will suffer, opponents that recognize each other at first glance - all of this seems almost fated.

“You,” he says thoughtfully, pondering the relatively unimposing sight in front of him. Then, a condescending smile creeps onto his face. “Finally.”

“Me,” you try to sound more unbothered than you truly are. It’s hard to say whether he’s buying your act. “Always and invariably, me.”

There’s no word of warning, not even a dishonest attempt at negotiations born out of courtesy rather than diplomacy - Kirigan does some complicated motion with his hands and suddenly there’s a blade made out of solid darkness charging at you.

But since it’s material, it must obey the laws of physics.

With barely a flick of your wrist, wispy flame, lilac in colour, wraps itself around the shadow, forcing it to change the trajectory of its flight. A thundering sound, a cloud of dust - the blade flies through the brick wall of a nearby house.

Something changes about Kirigan’s face. The condescending, cocky mannerism falters when he’s not consciously keeping it up. An expression of surprise, if not disbelief, dances across his features before he’s pulled back into the moment. No matter how stern and unbothered he may appear, you’ve already seen the General’s doubt in his own superiority. Playing into his broken confidence might just be the solution.

You shake your head in disappointment. “Why are you doing this to yourself, Alexandr? You know you can’t kill me with your power.”

Kirigan falls to his knees when you clench your fist, the same lilac smoke hovering around his body. He can’t move his hands and any attempt at conjuring darkness end with the shadows falling on the cobblestone in coal-like ash. In no rush, you stroll closer to him.

Standing maybe a metre or two away from him, you can see into his dark eyes - nervousness and contempt swirl together as though his human form is just a disguise, hiding a rabid animal underneath.

“I am both the rock and the tree roots that crumble it,” you begin in a condescending tone, “the mountains and the turbulent waters eroding them.” Slowly leaning down, you face him with merely a palm’s length between you. “I could be your god. I can make you beg,” you grit through your teeth.

Kirigan bursts into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. “Do you really believe this nonsense? That you’re anything beyond a barking, toothless mutt?” Suddenly, his amusement disappears as swiftly as it came to be just a second ago. “You’re just like him,” he spits ouit. “Too weak to make a change, to be someone. I can help you, make you into something that matters.”

You take a step back. It’s both pathetic and impressive that a man rendered powerless claims to be the key to some inexplicable strength. The longer you look at Kirigan, to more you’re certain that he genuinely believes his own words; having gone through spirals of madness, he circled back to some twisted normality.

Kneeling before you, unable to defend himself in any way that matters, he's something of a prisoner - a man held hostage by mercy and vengeance battling inside your head. You could just... kill him. The curse that had haunted you and your family for centuries, it can end just like that - snap your fingers, flick your wrist, it doesn't take much.

You swallow thickly; a deep, ragged breath inhaled through your mouth. This must end, his reign of paranoia and delusion, but you know the day is yet to come - not here, not right now.

In a spiteful manner, you cross your arms on your chest. A cocky smile crooks your lips. Even if you don’t kill him, this is going to be equally satisfying. “See, батюшка, that’s the difference between you and me: you must be someone, while I can be anyone.” You shrug. Then you nod your head, silently agreeing with his words, although only a percentage of them. “You know, there’s a thousand ways I imagined killing you. Maybe I’ll increase your blood pressure, giving you a heart attack after a heart attack until the muscle finally gives out or slowly put more pressure on your skull until it pops like an overripe watermelon. I could also change the density of the air, making you suffocate for hours on end.” You sigh in defeat, throwing your hands up. “But you’re right, I am just like Mikhail. That’s the only reason why you’ll get to see another day.”

Before Kirigan has a chance to continue this pointless dispute, you kick the side of his head with all of the strength you can gather. With a loud thud, he hits the cobblestone road, knocked-out cold. Incapacitated for a moment but nowhere near dead. Although you have no way to be sure about that, something tells you that you got your message across and Kirigan is going to direct his delusion of grandeur elsewhere - at least for now.

“You know what’s the problem with chasing rabbits?” you say to the unconscious General. “There are bears in the woods.”

Some of your drink spills as you hit your glass with Jesper’s, raising a toast for all the tears you will not cry over your friends. You whine and laugh, feeling brandy running down your fingers. For tonight, it’s the only sorrow you’re going to suffer.

You’re drinking the alcohol while listening to Jesper’s tall story of how he brought down one of the Infernis earlier. He’s absolutely amazing at the craft, gesturing and adding noises to paint the picture. The tale is so engaging, you don’t notice Brekker’s eyes burning into you. Maybe part of your dismissal of his behaviour is because you’ve grown to know him a little too well - always pessimistic until his own skills are being evaluated. He will probably tell you words of impeding doom, revenge of the General, and although he will be right, you don’t quite want to think about the inescapable future just yet.

To your misfortune, as you think at the moment, Kaz gives Inej a meaningful look and she picks up on the silent message immediately.

“Let’s get another round,” she says as she pulls Jesper up by his arm. He doesn’t seem to mind, following her through the crowd to the bar.

Kaz leans forward, resting his forearm on the table. “You did the smart thing, letting the Black General live,” he begins.

The mention of the man in black robes makes you sober up immediately, his condescending smile flashing before your eyes. You finish the rest of your drink in one go, the glass clicks loudly against the wooden table as you set it down.

“Save that for the day he comes back all fucked off.”

He only scoffs, amused at your sudden lack of humor. You’re watching Kaz as he fishes something out of his pocket and places it in front of you on the table. A glint of polished golden surface - the watch.

Strange. It looks a lot better, newer, than you remember. With furrowed eyebrows, you look at Kaz but his expression remains unreadable. Cautiously, as if the pocket watch is about to bite your hand off, you pick up the keepsake. Pressing down the button on the top, the lid pops open. Your eyes widen in surprise - the hands are steadily moving around the face of the clock.

Your eyes snap back to look at Kaz. Something equally warm as it is flustering sprouts inside your chest. “You had it fixed.”

“It’s a nice watch,” he answers with a certain tone of indifference. But if he was willing to go this far about something he was supposed to just keep in his pocket, there had to be at least a speck of care behind his cold exterior. “There’s something else that might spark your interest. Come with me.”

The garden square is nearly deserted. Those who do walk through it, use it as a shortcut rather than a green area meant for leisure. Plantanetrees tower over you, their widespread crowns rustle as cold wind brushes against them. A leaf or two falls with a stronger gust, covering the neatly-kept lawn in reds and oranges.

In front of you is a bench - a park bench like there are thousands throughout Ketterdam. And yet, this one is unlike any other. It’s so uncommon, in fact, that you can hardly believe you’re standing in front of it. Your teary eyes read the plaque on the planks once more:

In loving memory of Kosomova Anastasia Fyodorovna. One mother’s sacrifice is worth that of a thousand martyrs. 

“Thank you,” you whisper to Kaz, your voice wavering with unconsolable emotions. His face is still stern, impenetrable, but he appears calm rather than somber. “She would have loved it.”

“Do you?” he asks immediately after.

A dry chuckle flies past your lips. Despite the tears running down you face, you smile - genuinely. “This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me.”

Kaz doesn’t say anything in response but neither does he leave. The two of you are standing there motionless, taking after the impressive plantanetrees rustling over your heads. Autumn wind brings stray raindrops with each gust, the oncoming rainstorm mixing with your tears on your cheeks as though they are one and the same. Gas lamps shine with dim, yellow light - not enough to brighten up the forgotten garden square. Despite the surrounding darkness, the plaque is still fairly legible as the lamplight cascades off the polished metal.

When the emotions finally settle down, you find yourself wondering about the imminent future you had been chasing away earlier this evening. Perhaps Kirigan has withdrawn but it is more than foolish to assume he has abandoned his mission like a wolf that disappears into the thick forest only to come back with the rest of its pack; the howling of tomorrow resonates in your ears.

“What happens now, Kaz?” you ask quietly.

He spares you a questioning look. “What do you mean?”

With a sigh, you look to the side to meet his gaze. “We’re in open conflict with the Black General. He might keep away for now but one day he’ll come back.”

Kaz slightly turns to face you with the rest of his body. The strange softness in his gaze disappears in favour of something cold and determined but never calloused; the same water that cleanses, drowns. “Then we’ll fight him again.”

The word ‘we’ brings you a sense of comfort. It’s a lovely sentiment - to not have to stare down into the abyss alone.

“You have incapacitated a handful of Kirigan’s personal guard and you’re harbouring a fugitive.” You pout your lips thoughtfully and nod your head. “I guess now it really is your fight.”

“You’re always my fight,” he states firmly, almost as if he is arguing with you. “Whether you like it or not.”

___

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @coldheartedmar @thecraziestcrayon

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

To fall, to burn

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, October warm-up round.

Prompt: Halloween

Rated: T

CW: alcohol abuse, mind control

Tags: Vampire!Eddie; Steve and Nancy are unhappily married; sexual tension

Notes: This started out as an attempt at the @steddiemicrofic for October, but it sort of spiralled, so here we are. 🙃

His name is Eddie and he's always dressed as a vampire. 

He shows up on their first Halloween at the new house, looking elegant and suave in his waistcoat, dark hair in an old-fashioned braid down his back. Steve, immediately drawn in by his wit and easy charm, asks if he lives nearby, and Eddie chuckles. 

"Used to," he says. "Now I just visit occasionally."

They spend the better part of the night out on the porch, chatting away while the trick-and-treaters trickle by. 

"Newly married?" Eddie asks at some point, red eyes trained on his ring finger. They look so real. Steve wonders what contacts he uses. 

"Yeah," he nods. "Nancy isn't here, though. She's away for business a lot, just got promoted." 

"What?" Eddie smiles, bright and dimpled and with a hint of fangs. "Leaving a pretty thing like you all alone? Shame." 

Steve laughs, and if he notices how those eyes linger on the blush that creeps up his neck, that's nobody's business, right?

*

"What's got that lovely face all sad on this beautiful night?"

"Oh, hey!" Steve tears his eyes off the costumed children passing by as Eddie joins him on the porch steps. "Didn't see you all year."

"Of course not," Eddie winks. "I'm a creature of darkness." 

His costume is more modern today, all black leather and chains, hair spilling over his shoulders in messy curls. 

Steve chuckles, twists his wedding band. Frowns. 

"Trouble in paradise?" 

Steve huffs. "No. Yeah. I dunno, maybe." 

And then - and he has no idea why - he spills his heart to this complete stranger. How maybe they both rushed into this marriage. How they seem to be wanting different things from life. How he always thought they'd have kids, lots of them, while Nancy is so focused on her career. Maybe it's the way those ruby eyes never leave him as he speaks. They draw him in, drag all the things he keeps buried deep inside to the surface, until he feels raw and vulnerable and wide open. Seen. 

"She's a fool," Eddie hums. And Steve never noticed, but he has shifted closer. So close their shoulders are brushing. So close that Steve feels his breath on his skin, so close Eddie’s scent tickles his nostrils. Leather and musk and something earthy and wild. "You should have anything you desire." 

Steve laughs it off, but it feels wrong in his throat.

*

Steve's bottle of whisky is almost empty and the trick-and-treaters long gone when he looks up to see Eddie standing before him, jewelry glinting in the dying light of the Jack O'Lanterns. Those red eyes flick over the last of the cardboard boxes still stacked on the porch and Eddie’s face twitches. 

"She gone then?" 

Steve blinks sluggishly. Nods, sways, topples. Eddie is crouched in front of him in an instant, catches him before he can fall and cradles him to his chest. 

"It's okay, sweet thing, let it out." 

Steve is about to ask what he means, but then the sticky wetness on his face registers, and he flushes with humiliation. 

"Shit," he slurs, tries to stand. "Sorry." 

Eddie brings one strong hand to the back of his head and pulls him back in. His fingers card through Steve’s hair, a solid, firm weight.

"No need to apologize for a broken heart. I'm just sorry it had to come this far." 

He smiles, fangs gleaming in the low light, and something inside Steve's chest flutters. His head is dizzy, and Eddie’s eyes are so pretty, a swirling vortex of red that's sucking him in. He wants nothing more than to fall into them and burn. 

"Steve .. " Eddie is saying, and Steve must be so, so drunk, because he could swear his lips aren’t moving, and still that voice is clear as day in his head, in his bones. In his blood. "If you were mine … I'd never let anything hurt you." 

"Would …" Steve gulps. Eddie’s eyes watch the movement of his throat, pupils blown wide, watch his tongue as it darts out to wet too-dry lips. "Would you maybe … like to go inside?" 

"Aw, honey, finally!" Eddie’s eyes crinkle around the corners, and then he hoists Steve to his feet like a ragdoll, steers them both towards the door with one firm arm around his waist. His breath tickles the hollow of Steve's neck, and his fangs scrape his rabbiting pulse. "Thought you'd never ask." 

Part 2