#i am so unsure of that last tag jesus.

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

So...Now?

Alright Chapter 9 of Dating up is here. I split it in half, this is set directly after Chapter 8. I hope you guys like this and the next chapter is almost done and will be up soon.

Let me know if you guys want to be added to the tag list! Also if you have any ideas you want to see, like any episodes that you would like to see Chica in.

Warnings: Sexual contact, fingering, sucking dick, a hint at anal play, marking, dirty talk

Master List

Prompt List

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10

Tag List: @pear-1206

“Oh god,” you muttered shoving your head deeper under the pillow. “I hate life.”

Your mouth was dry and felt like cotton but also a little minty as you tried to work out what happened last night. It all got a little fuzzy around the time Rafael and his friends showed up. But you were sure there was something in there that was embarrassing, something…

“Oh jesus, please tell me that was just a weird ass dream?” you pleaded.

“If you’re talking about last night, then I’m afraid not Chica,” Rafael’s amused voice drifted over you. You groaned in response, burrowing further into the nest you had made in his bed. The events of last night became a little clearer the longer you were awake, you felt your body turn to ice, your stomach dropping as you remembered in detail what you did and said.

“I am so sorry,” you whispered sitting up, turning to look at Rafael, you felt so bad about last night. You couldn’t believe what you had done.

“Why?” Rafael asked moving forwards, sitting down and taking your hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Cause I was meeting your friends for the first time and I was so drunk that I talked about your dick and sex,” you whined eyes watering a little. “And everything else, I must have been so embarrassing.”

“Carino, they thought you were adorable,” he assured you cupping your cheek and stroking under your eye to catch the stray tears. “And believe me they were happy for the material for teasing me.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. Rafael tugged on your hands urging you to move so you were sitting in his lap, legs straddling him and arms fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. His hands ran up and down your sides soothingly.

“Sweetheart, I am so sure,” he nodded, kissing your nose. “You could never do anything that would embarrass me. You were showing affection and being yourself around my friends. That is all I could ask, plus you made such a good snarky remark against Carisi, so there’s that.”

“Rafi,” you smiled feeling a little better about last night. “Promise me you’ll tell me if I made them uncomfortable?”

“Of course,” he agreed. “Do you feel better?”

“About that yes, but I still feel like death warmed up,” you rubbed your head. “Thank you for drinking my margherita.”

“Ah, see I made a good choice,” he tweaked your nose just to hear you giggle. “Alright, do you want to have a shower or some food?”

“Hm, shower, definitely,” you were about to get up but suddenly sat back down your eyes staring at Rafael, studying him.

“Chica?” he asked, brow furrowed unsure what you were doing.

“You said no to sex last night,” you stated

“Of course, you were drunk,”

“Huh,”

“Why?”

“It’s like a low bar, don’t get me wrong but thank you,” you shrugged. “But just for future reference, I would be okay with us fooling around when I’m a little drunk.”

“Noted, let’s have this conversation when you are a little more awake and alive,” he grinned.

“Alright,” you agreed. “But…wanna join me in the shower? I’m not drunk anymore.”

“If I ever say no to that question, it isn’t me and you should call Liv,” Rafael’s grip tightened on your hips holding you to him to stop you from getting up. “First, though I want you to drink some more water.”

“Rafi,”

“No, water and I’ll join you in the shower but that is it,” he tapped you on the nose. “You are hungover and as much as I would like to fuck you in the shower, I don’t think you’re really up to that are you?”

“No,” you pouted. “Though speaking of, did you clean my teeth last night? Whilst my mouth is dry it is minty.”

“Ah, no, you woke up, threw up and then cleaned your teeth while complaining about the light,” Rafael answered. “And then you preceded to do your whole night skin care. Which was not something I thought I would ever see done after a night of drinking.”

“….yeah that sounds like me, sorry should have warned you I tend to do that,” you scratched the back of your neck. “Sorry about throwing up.”

“Chica, it’s fine, you made it to the bathroom,” Rafael kissed your neck nibbling on the skin there.

“Woah buddy, if you don’t want to fuck me you better stop,” you wiggled away from his mouth before groaning a little. “Yeah, I think I need water. My head is trying to kill me.”

Rafael laughed wrapping his arm firmly around your waist as he leaned to grab the water bottle from the side table. Opening it behind your back before bringing it up to your lips, raising an eyebrow when you pursed your lips, face confused.

“Oh, so I can help you drink water when you’re drunk and don’t want to let go of my friend’s hand but now that it is the two of us suddenly it’s weird?” he asked. “Nice Chica.”

“Oh my god, I did that?” you asked.

“You did, and you owe me for that,” he nodded. “It completely ruined my hard arse reputation.”

“I’m sure you can make that back the next time you make a witness cry, or refuse to get a warrant cause they don’t have enough evidence and their “maternal instincts” aren’t enough,”

“Okay I told you I did that in confidence for it to never be mentioned again,”

“You never said off the record,”

“You suck,”

“You like my sucking,”

Rafael rolled his eyes as he brought the water bottle back up to your lips. You eyed it for a second longer before opening your mouth and letting him pour some in before swallowing, repeating the action until you pushed the bottle away.

“Alright, let’s get you in the shower, so you can eat something and take some pain meds,” Rafael said, recapping the bottle and sitting it on the bed beside the two of you. His arm still holding you close on his lap. “Now hold on tight.”

“What?” you were confused until Rafael stood up holding you against him. “Aw, you’re spoiling me.”

“Don’t get use to it,” Rafael warned you walking towards the bathroom.  “How’s the light?”

“Hm, hurts a little,” you admitted, eyes squinting against the harshness of the light. Rafael hummed as he sat you on the counter before reaching for the light switch and dimming them.

“Now?”

You merely hummed in response, smiling a little dopily at him. Rafael chuckled in response, pressing a kiss to your temple as he walked past you to the shower, fiddling with taps until it was the temperature you preferred. He made quick work of removing his own clothes before helping you out of yours, pressing kisses to your cheeks, temple and forehead as he did so.

“Want to wash your hair?” he asked carefully running a brush through it to get rid of the knots that appeared overnight. He hummed when you didn’t answer right away, leaning to press a kiss to you should blade. “Carino?”

“Don’t know but that feels nice,” your voice was getting drowsy from the gentle way Rafael brushed your hair, you were always a sucker for anyone who played with your hair and this, surprisingly, was the first time Rafael had brushed your hair.

“It doesn’t feel like it needs a wash, so maybe that can wait for when you’re more human,” Rafael joked reaching for a hair-tie that seemed to live on the bathroom counter. His fingers were gentle as he carefully gathered your hair and tied it into the bun he had seen you wear when you didn’t want your hair to get wet when you showered. “Is that too tight?”

“Not at all, I may have to demand that you play with my hair more often now,” you told him turning around to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I think it may be my favourite thing for you to do.”

“We’ll see,” he said, but he knew that he would never be able to deny you that request. Turns out he rather liked being able to play with your hair and brush it for you.

“We both know that means ‘Yes of course, Chica, whenever you want,’” you attempted to mimic his voice, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you pressed your naked bodies together.

“Chica,” Rafael warned, as he grabbed your hands and pulled them away before leading you into the shower. “Behave.”

“Sir, yes sir,” you mocked, attempting to hold a serious look before you broke and giggled at him.

“When you’re feeling better you are going to get it,” Rafael stated, gently turning you around so your whole body was wet before he grabbed the soap and a wash cloth. He switched places with you as he started to lather you, being so gentle with his movements.

“That feels nice, Rafi,” you whispered leaning to kiss him as he turned you around to wash your front. His eyes were soft with an emotion in them that you had never seen before, it caused your stomach to flutter and not in the way it normally does after a night of drinking.

“Good, let’s get you rinsed off,” he smiled. “Do you want to spend the day in bed?”

“Only if you are with me,” you prompted, taking the wash cloth and soap from him. “Can I wash you?”

“Maybe next time,” Rafael promised you switching places with you again to rinse off the soap. “Let’s get you dried and in bed, which yes I will join you, after I have made you some food.”

“Ooh, some greasy?” you asked.

“Bacon and egg sandwich with hashbrowns?”

“Perfect, with a cup of tea?”

“Of course, Chica, this is technically your breakfast, I know you need tea with breakfast,”

“You know me so well,” you grinned following him out of the shower.

Later in the day

“So, how are you feeling now?” Rafael asked running his hand through your hair. You smiled happily up at him, relaxing more against his lap. The two of you stayed in bed all day after your shower together, Rafael cuddling you at first and then he switched to sitting up with you laying on his lap while he read over some case notes.

“Much, thank you for looking after me,” you nodded.

“Of course, my darling,” he bent down to press a kiss to your forehead, gently stroking your cheek, before tweaking your nose.

“Normally, on our girls nights out we don’t get quite as drunk as we did,” you moaned.

“Oh?” Rafael sat his case file on the bed side table. “You young girls don’t go wild every other night?”

“Rafi, you read my dating profile, I’m a nerdy little librarian, all four of us are nerdy,” you rolled your eyes. “I prefer a night in. Last night was special it had been over four months since we were all able to meet up.”

“I know but you are still young,” he shrugged. Your eyes narrowed as you studied the way his face was twitching a little. “If you need to spend more time with your friends so you can meet up more-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you interrupted him sitting up so you could look at him properly. “The only reason we weren’t able to meet up for nearly four months was because Shannon was out of the country visiting some of her family and Courtney had been out of state for work. And that is the second time you have said I’m young in a short time span. Rafi, does our difference in age bother you?”

“No,” Rafael denied, but he refused to look at you as he shifted sitting on the edge of the bed rubbing his face. He had hoped this might never come up between the two of you but he forgot that you were annoying observant, well, annoyingly only when you turned it on him. Adorable when it was any other time.

“Really, cause it seems a little like maybe it does,” you insisted. “Rafi, why haven’t you said anything before?”

“Because I guess I never realised until last night when I meet your friends,” he said. “And a part of me worried that I was keeping you from being with your friends and that maybe I was a little old for you.”

“Absolutely not,” you assured him, climbing onto his lap grabbing his face between your hands to ensure he couldn’t look away from you. “You listen to me right now Rafael Barba. You are not too old for me, me and my friends rarely get drunk like that, we all actually prefer hanging out at one of our places, checking out a museum or just getting a nice dinner. We occasionally get drunk like that but it is rare. You are not keeping me from my friends, now that Courtney and Shannon are back in town, we will be meeting up like we normally do. Understand?”

“Chica,” Rafael whispered his hands reaching up to cover yours, the light in his eyes coming back.

“Do you understand?” you repeated forcibly. “I need an answer bub, I need to be sure that you understand that the gap in our ages is not an issue, my friends adore you.”

“Yes, Carino I understand,” he nodded leaning forward to kiss you. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Anytime, babe,” you nuzzled your nose against his. “Please tell me if you start thinking like that again. Because I can tell you how you blow all other men out the water, my girls said their first times never ended with them having orgasms, well cept for Courtney but she had her first time with a woman so.”

“Really?” he asked, hands moving down to grab your hips.

“Yep,” you hummed popping the ‘p’. “So, I’m never letting you go, for the sex alone. God only knows if I could find another man who can make me orgasm from finger fucking me.”

“Good to know you aren’t superficial at all Chica,” Rafael squeezed your hips teasingly.

“I mean obviously I’m not letting you go because you’re-”

“Gorgeous, charming, sarcastic and incredibly intelligent?” he asked.

“Did…I say that last night?”

“Correct,” he nodded. “You also said I was really good in bed so.”

“God,” you groaned resting your head against his shoulder. “I’m never gonna be able to see your friends ever again.”

“Well, I mean at least you whispered your attempt at bribing me to give you your drink back,” Rafael pointed out dryly, causing you to lift your head to stare at him blankly.

“That’s something I suppose,” you agreed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, running your fingers through his hair.

He hummed contently at your actions, letting his head fall to rest on your chest. You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, settling more firmly in his lap. The memory of what you whispered to him coming back, you couldn’t believe you said that even if no-one else was able to hear it. Though, the thought of doing that did make you excited, it turns out not even being hungover was enough to keep your desire for him down. You wiggled a little on his lap, feeling his dick underneath you didn’t help. You whimpered as you grew a little wet. Rafael’s arms tightened around you as you continued to wiggle in his lap.

“Want another shower?” Rafael asked.

“A shower?” now you were just confused…well, confused and horny but mostly confused.

“You’re feeling better,” he started, his hands holding you firmly in his lap. “And if you still want to, I would like to join you in that shower.”

“Hmm, I suppose I could be persuaded to have another shower,” you sighed, moving to get up from his lap.

“Oh, no, stay right there,” Rafael clicked his tongue, his hands holding your hips tightly to keep you firmly in his lap. Smirking when you looked at him confused. In one smooth motion he stood up holding you to him.

“Rafi!” you squeaked grabbing hold of his shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist as one of his hands moved to hold your ass, squeezing it teasingly as he walked to the bathroom. “Thought you said not to get use to this.”

“Hm, I thought this was an excellent way to get you to the bathroom so I can have my way with you,” he shrugged. “Now, what was it you said to me last night? Come on bub, let’s go.”

“Rafi,” you giggled, before grinning at him, words bubbling up inside but you held them in. Instead, you nuzzled into his neck, kissing and nibbling at the skin.

“Shit, Chica stop it,” he groused. “I could drop you.”    

“Oh, now why would you ever do that?” you asked licking up along his neck.

“Oh, now you’re going to get it woman,” he growled, a dark promise in his voice that caused you to shiver in delight. Both of his hands grabbing your arse and squeezing.

 “Maybe after this shower, we could do what I suggested last night?” you proposed.

“I have a question about that, what was with the vest?” Rafael asked sitting you on the counter, hands trailing along your thighs.

“I saw how you got one time I tried it on,” you raised an eyebrow. “It’s the same look you get in your eyes when I wear lingerie.”

“Hm, wear my blue and silver one,”

“Yes sir,” you reached out to start undoing his shirt. “But…how about I suck you off in the shower first?”

“Twist my arm, Chica,” he grinned, hands tugging your panties down as you finished with his shirt, pushing it off his shoulder and dragging your fingers back up his torso scratching over his nipples to get that little noise out of him.

His fingers trailed back up your thighs and under the shirt you were wearing as he started sucking kisses along your neck, he thought it was a little bare and that just had to change. You gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer, you could feel the outline of his cock against you as he rolled his hips.

“Rafi,” you moaned. “I thought I was meant to-”

“We’re not in the shower yet, Chica,” he whispered into your ear before he bit your lope gently. “I think I want you to cum on my fingers first.” Leaning back, he smirked down at you, the fingers that were gripping your thighs squeezed once before one hand inched up closer to your pussy. “So, be good and spread those legs a little more for me.”

“Aw, don’t you have enough room?” you teased before gasping as Rafael’s thumb pressed down on your clit without warning. “Rafi!”

“I suppose I could make you cum just from this but I really want to fuck you with my fingers,” he growled lowly. “Don’t you want to feel my fingers inside you?” He moved his thumb in a circular motion alternating between pressing down and barely any pressure, his other hand slipped up under your shirt to tease along the underside of your breast. “Come one, Carino, don’t you want my fingers inside you?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” you nodded.

“Then spread your legs,” he ordered. You unwrapped your legs from around his waist, opening them wide biting your lip at the look in Rafael’s eyes. It didn’t matter how many times you saw it; it still took your breath away to see him look so hungrily at you. “Good. Girl.”

Rafael kissed you as he slowly teased you by pressing the tips of two of his fingers into you before taking them out and then inserting them again just a little further each time. Each time he pulled them out he stroked them upwards and rubbed at your clit with his thumb drawing out whines and gasps from you in between kisses. He knew exactly how to work you; he could bring you to the edge but never let you tip over.  He left his fingers inside, stroking them against your walls drawing out your pleasure as he removed his thumb from your clit.

“Rafi,” you moaned leaning back from him your hips rolling as much as they could.

“You know, I have heard that orgasms are great for hangovers,” Rafael grunted nibbling on your bottom lip.

“That is true,” you whimpered a little, one of your legs moving to curl around his waist as your hands scratched at his back when his thumb pressed down on your clit rubbing it in circular movements again. “Ah, fuck!” tears started to form in your eyes as the pleasure built.

“That’s it, Chica,” Rafael encouraged. “Cum for me baby. You can do it, be a good girl and cum on my fingers.” Your walls clenched as your orgasm hit you, clamping down on his fingers. Your hips twitched as you clutched at Rafael tightly as you let your high run through you.

“Rafi,” you whined as his fingers continued to stroke you. He pressed a kiss to your lips, his tongue swiping into your mouth.

“Hm, fuck I love feeling you cum on my fingers,” Rafael whispered against your lips, slowly pulling his fingers out. He made sure your eyes were focused and on him when he put them in his mouth and sucked the wetness that clung to them. “Fuck you taste so good.”

“Come here,” you dragged him back to your lips, tongue licking into his mouth tasting yourself on his tongue as they twined together. “Fuck Rafi. You’re a menace.”

“Pay back,” he murmured before tugging your bottom lip between his, letting it go so he could kiss along your jaw and down your neck to make another mark.  “And I’ve been holding back since last night.”

You tilted your neck to the side allowing him more access to your neck as your other leg wrapped around his waist joining the other squeezing him tight. Your hands lightly running over the marks you left on his back, grinning a little at the shiver that ran through him.

“Rafi, I need you,” you whispered, running one of your hands up into his hair and tugging humming at the groan it pulled from him.

“Hmm, but I’m not done yet,” he pulled back lips pouting a little.

“You keep going at my neck like that and it’ll look like I was mauled,” you laughed, tapping his lips. “Plus, I need to get your cock in my mouth like now so…”

“Only if afterwards, I can take my time eating you out,” Rafael countered.

“You drive a hard bargain Mr Lawyer,” you rolled your eyes. “But I guess I can live with that.”

Rafael helped you down off the counter, using that as an opportunity to squeeze your arse and thighs again, sighing a little happily. His hands moved upwards, pulling the shirt up as he went, making a slight detour to lightly squeeze your breasts before throwing the shirt into the laundry basket. His hands trailed down your body again before you stepped away from him, backing towards the shower, reaching out blindly to turn it on.

“Boxers off mister,” you pointed. “Then you can get back to copping a feel.”

“A little hard to cop a feel while you’re on your knees,” he complained. “Why don’t you help me take my boxers off and I can cop a feel.”

“Always a lawyer,” you chuckled stepping towards him, before grinning cheekily and backing towards the shower again and crooking a finger at him. “Come on bub, boxers off or you won’t get to take your time eating me out.”

“I should hire you as my second chair,” he muttered as he pushed down his boxers before joining you under you under the warm spray of the shower. “Let you turn those amazingly, annoying negotiation skills on the defence. I’ll never have to go to trial again.”

“I don’t think that’ll happen,” you warned him.

“Oh, I don’t know, you got Liv to drink a shot by looking at her,” he shrugged. “I think you could get Buchan to agree to a deal.”

“Buchan…oh that big fella who is an absolute piece of shit?” you asked turning Rafael around so he was under the spray.

“That’s the one,” he nodded, hands pushing your hair away from your face, before they started stroking down your back. “Chica!” he whined as you dropped to your knees taking away his ability to touch you anywhere other than your head.

“I’m about to suck your cock and you’re whining?” you raised an eyebrow at him. “Got to say, I don’t think there are many men out there that would complain about getting their dick sucked.”

“That’s because those men are idiots and don’t know how to appreciate a gorgeous woman in-front of them,” he defended himself. “And dios do I appreciate you, with your-.”

You ignored his statements as you leaned closer to press a kiss to the head of his dick, causing him to cut off his statement with a curse. You looked up at him, grinning as you pressed kisses along the length of his cock, before licking up along the vein before you took it into your mouth. Swallowing around it as you took it down all the way to the root. Rafael wasn’t the only one who learnt how to play your body. Your hands held onto his thighs for balance as you moved up and down, swirling your tongue around the head, dipping into the slit before you swallowed it back down. This time only taking a small part each time you went down.

“Fuck,” Rafael moaned. “You’re so good with your mouth Chica.” Tangling one of his hands into your hair he tugged on it as you moved, his hips lightly thrusting to match your movements. “That’s it, you’re taking me so well.” Pulling all the way off, you smirked up at him as you trailed kisses along his length again.

“Bet you’re glad I talked you into this, huh?” you asked him as you pressed a kiss to his balls, quickly licking them before moving suck on his tip again, tasting some of the precum that was dripping from it.

“Hm, I think I would prefer this if I could be eating you out at the same time,” he mused.

“You’re impossible,” you sighed, before going back to sucking his dick.

One of your hands reaching to gently squeeze his balls, before you gently reached behind to stroke at the skin there. Rafael slumped against the wall the water hitting his chest and falling down to you, his eyes watching you burned with a hunger that he knew would never been fully satisfied.  His hand continued to tug on your wet hair, encouraging you to take him all the way down again and hold him in your throat, swallowing around his thick length.

“Carino, look at you,” his whispered in awe, his other hand stroking along your cheek before rubbing along your bottom lip, his thumb pushing in a little beside his cock before retreating. “Fuck you look gorgeous with your mouth so full.”

Your body warmed at the words coming from his mouth. You hadn’t really heard him dirty talk before, it was doing things to you. Your pussy was throbbing in need, suddenly you wished this was happening in a bed so you could feel his tongue inside you. Although, if that was happening you wouldn’t be seeing this side of him. You swallowed once more around him before pulling off so just his tip was inside your mouth.

“Fuck, gorgeous I am close,” he told you, pulling your hair a little rougher. “You going to swallow for me?”

You whimpered in response, focusing on his slit as you moved your hand back more, lightly rubbing it over his hole. The first time you did it was a slight accident but when you noticed how Rafael reacted you made sure to do it more often. You even thought about brining up an idea you had been having for a while but you weren’t really sure how to go about it. But for now, it was a good way to get him even more turned on as he got closer to finishing.

“Ah shit, close,” he whimpered, hips thrusting a little more as he got close. You hummed around his cock before you felt his orgasm fill your mouth, you moaned at the taste as you swallowed it down. Licking at the head as you pulled off to catch any stray drops.

“Not to copy you, babe but, fuck you taste good,” you stated pressing one last kiss on the head of his cock before an idea hit you. You ignored the way he tugged on your hair to try and get you to stand up instead you started kissing along the top of his right thigh. Biting at the skin, sucking on it to leave a mark, as you moved along it to his hip bone.

“And you’re a menace,” he moaned. “Come on stand up, please.”

“Aw, you’re begging?” you asked teasingly as you marked up his hip bone and then left a path of kisses along his stomach to his other hip bone to leave more markings. “And at least these can be hidden.”

“You like my markings,” he pointed out finally managing to get you to stand up as he pressed lightly against one of the markings on your neck.

“Not as much as you do,” you said stroking your hands up his stomach to wrap around his shoulders. Rafael grumbled a little as his hands found their way to your arse again, the grumbles turning to happy little hums. “You’re an easy man to please, you know that?”

“Hm, maybe,” he shrugged. “But it’s not like it could be used against me.”

“Really?” you asked as you attempted to step out of the shower but his hands tightened their grip on you tugging you against him under the stream. “Well, that’s rude.”

“Aw, don’t you like that I can hold you against me?”

“You know I enjoy how strong you are,” you leaned up to kiss him. “Just like I know how much you enjoy my arse, my thighs and my pussy.”

[atotalpitch]

Bechloe week 2024 day 2: "you're up early"

read on ao3 here Fandom(s): Pitch Perfect (movies) Relationship(s): implied Beca/Chloe, can be seen as either pre- or during relationship! Word count: 666 Warning(s): none Other tag(s): mild hurt/comfort, fluff Summary: they have a conversation. literally that's it. i'm terrible at summaries. A/N: ooffff this is short, but i'm still happy with it!! my best friend, the only person i run these through, thought it's adorable and i trust her. any criticism or thoughts are always welcome!

--- Beca drops her headphones around her neck as she walks into the kitchen. It’s oddly quiet for the Bellas house, but it is five in the morning. She figures she’s the only one awake at the ass crack of dawn. That is until her heart jumps all the way up to her throat at the sight of a familiar redhead. “Jesus fucking Christ you scared me,” Beca mumbles under her breath, not knowing whether Chloe heard her or not. “Sorry,” Chloe half-whispers with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Opening the fridge and picking up a can of redbull, Beca does a mental double take on the time. “You’re up early,” she states matter-of-factly. “I’m always up early. You’re up early,” Chloe shoots back, raising an eyebrow challengingly. “Your first alarm is at 6.15, it’s 5.42,” Beca ignores the accusation and sits down on one of the kitchen aisle stools. She opens the cold can and takes a sip. “Spill. What’s keeping you up?” Chloe sighs. She knows there is no logical way out of this anymore. “I, uh… it’s dumb. My brother’s getting married. I mean, don’t get me wrong I’m happy for him! I love his fiancée too. It just made me think… I’m only a year younger than him and I’m still stuck in college, while he’s out there living his life and experiencing all these things I thought I would by this age,” Chloe looks out the kitchen window, twirling a spoon in her now cold mug of tea. Beca gathers she must’ve been there for quite a while now, because normally Chloe would never let her tea get cold. “Chlo, you are living your life. Just because you aren’t completing the guidebook of a stereotypical straight woman doesn’t mean your life isn’t good,” she manages to make Chloe at least smile with her insight. “I know I… I just thought my life would be different, I guess,” she shrugs, turning her gaze to meet Beca’s. There is an edge of something in her eyes that Beca hasn’t seen before. Sadness doesn’t suit Chloe, and neither does the tornado of emotions currently whirling in her stare, Beca is sure of it. “Are you happy now? With the Bellas, I mean;” what Beca wants to ask is if Chloe’s happy with her, but she decides against going too deep too early. “I am, yeah,” the answer comes out quickly and it seems to click something back to place inside Chloe’s mind. She still seems unsure, though. “Well there’s your answer. Look, dude, I know I’m not the best with all this emotional shit but what matters is that you’re happy and feel content with your own life. You still have life left to live and there’s no rush to get married or whatever it is that you want,” Beca shrugs, taking another long chug of her drink. “Who knew Beca Mitchell could give actually sensible life advice before six in the morning,” Chloe seems to get a part of herself back as she teases. Beca rolls her eyes, finishing the redbull in her hand with one last swig. (The normal cans are small, you can’t blame her.) She drops the can on the aisle and slides off the stool. “Remember to turn off your alarm so you don’t wake the others up,” she says in a form of goodbye. “Wait, can we go back to why you’re up at this time?” Chloe narrows her eyes and Beca can feel the intensity of the stare on her back. She turns her head and flashes a smile oddly similar to a toddler getting caught doing mischief. “Beca! What did I say about staying up the whole night?” the disappointed exclamation goes to deaf ears as Beca is already halfway up the stairs with her headphones firmly back in place. Chloe sighs and shakes her head, but a small smile forms on her lips. She really is in love with an idiot.

[whoslai]

Off The Menu - Lee Heeseung (Chapter 2)

genre: angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, eventual smut!! (you’re responsible for what you consume, read at your own risk)

warnings: lowkey suggestive texts, heeseung is sooooo into y/n (trust me), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), breast play??, oral ( fem receiving), sad goodbyes :(((

send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged! thank you to all my new followers, you guys are amazing for supporting me. please interact and give me as much feedback as you’d like (don’t be an ass tho, no need to spread negativity.

not proof read, sorry for any typos in advance.

word count: 5.4k

link to series masterlist or whatever

next chapter 

Chapter 2: “Oh my God.”

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As quickly as you had read his text, you placed your phone down; Oh my God, he was flirting with you. Maybe the attraction had been reciprocated. How could you be so oblivious to the multitude of hints he had been throwing at you all night? Calling you smart? Beautiful? Jesus. Ningning was right. 

However, you plugged your phone up and turned the screen face down. You didn’t want to continue the conversation until after you woke up as you were unsure of how to respond. Hmm, I’m intrigued. How shall I find out? You replayed his text over and over in your mind. Why’d you flirt with his ass? He was bold, you weren’t. Anywho, you spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, your mind racing with thoughts of Heeseung. You couldn't believe how much he had managed to charm you in such a short amount of time, but you were thrilled at the prospect of getting to know him better. 

But at the same time, you were also filled with self-doubt and insecurity. You couldn't help but wonder if the waiter was really interested in you, or if he was just looking for a quick fling. You'd been hurt in the past, and your worst fear was getting hurt again.

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The next morning, you woke up feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. You knew you wanted to talk to Heeseung, but you were still unsure of how to respond to his flirtatious text. Finally, you decided to take a deep breath and replied to him, informing him that you had fallen asleep.

His lack of immediate response was expected, however of course, you could only hope that he wouldn’t hold it against you that you needed time to sleep on the entire situation. You noticed how early it was, seeing that Ningning was still fast asleep. You got up and showered, throwing on a top and some pants as you checked your phone to see if he had replied. To your relief, he had merely replied, “Gotchu, don’t worry about it. Maybe we can meet up sometime soon before you go back to school.” 

You felt a sense of relief wash over you as you read Heeseung's message. You were glad that he wasn't upset with you for taking some time to respond, and you were excited at the prospect of seeing him again soon. You soon replied that you could meet for breakfast, to which he simply sent a location and “10 AM. Be there or be square.”

You checked the clock. You only had about an hour to get ready so you quickly stripped yourself of your casual clothing and put on a pair of jeans and a tee. Ningning poked her head up at you, staring through half lidded eyes, “What time is it?”

“Time for me…to go…meet Heeseung for breakfast.” You told her, awkwardly smiling.

“Who the fuck is Heeseung?” She laughed, rubbed her eyes. 

“The waiter from last night. He texted me really late…” You explained.

“Oh?” She questioned, “What’d he say?”

You took your phone out and showed her. As she read it, a smile slowly crept on her face, “Can I say something inappropriate?”

Your eyes widened at her comment, but you slowly nodded, “Sure…go ahead.”

“He wants you so bad.” She giggled, pushing you away.

You rolled your eyes at Ningning's comment, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. You knew that she meant well, but sometimes her sense of humor could be a little off-color.

"Stop it, Ningning," you said, trying to keep a straight face. "He's a stranger.”

Ningning nodded, still grinning. "Sure, just a stranger who texts you in the middle of the night and wants to take you out to breakfast."

You couldn't help but smile at her teasing, feeling grateful for her lightheartedness. Despite the challenges you were facing in your life, it was moments like these that reminded you of the importance of friendship and laughter.

As you got ready to leave, Ningning gave you a hug. "Have fun, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

“Pff, that’s not saying much…” You said.

She scoffed, hitting your shoulder as you left the hotel room with her keys. You chuckled at Ningning's response, feeling grateful for her ability to make light of any situation. As you left the hotel room with her keys, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness. Meeting up with a stranger for breakfast wasn't something you did every day, and you weren't sure what to expect. 

As you made your way to the breakfast spot where the stranger had suggested you meet, you couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive. But as you arrived and saw him sitting at a booth in the corner, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. He stood up as you approached and gave you a smile. 

“Well, well, well. We will meet again.” He joked,  greeting you with a warm hug. 

You smiled at his kind gesture, hugging him back. “Indeed we do.” You felt a sense of comfort in his embrace, grateful for his friendly gesture. As you pulled away from the hug, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards him for taking the time to meet with you.

As you sat down at the booth and ordered breakfast, you found yourself feeling more at ease in his presence; He was easy to talk to, kind, all of the above. He was an amazing listener and genuinely might have been  one of the funniest people you’d known. He effortlessly made you laugh. 

You found yourself enjoying the conversation with him more and more as you talked over breakfast. He had a way of putting you at ease, making you feel like you could be yourself without any judgment. He listened attentively to everything you had to say and offered thoughtful insights and advice.

But what really stood out to you was his sense of humor. He had a way of making even the most mundane things seem funny and interesting. You found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time, feeling grateful for the lightheartedness and joy he brought to the conversation.

“Heeseung, can I ask you a personal question?” You asked, sipping your orange juice.

His eyebrows raised, “Uh oh, how personal are we getting?”

“Very personal.” You emphasized, smiling.

Heeseung's eyebrows raised even higher at your response, but he couldn't help but smile back at you. "Alright, shoot. I'm an open book."

You took a deep breath, feeling a little nervous about asking such a personal question. “Promise you won’t get offended.”

Heeseung's smile softened as he sensed your nervousness. "I promise I won't get offended," he said reassuringly. "You can ask me anything."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you at his words, grateful for his understanding and empathy. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before asking your question. “Do you normally take customers out to breakfast the morning after you meet them?”

Heeseung's smile faded slightly as he considered your question. "No, I don't usually take customers out to breakfast," his voice softened, “Is it wrong for me to want to get to know such a pretty girl as yourself?”

You couldn't help but feel flattered by Heeseung's comment. Despite your initial hesitation, you found yourself warming up to him and his easy going personality. You had to admit that you were intrigued by the idea of getting to know him better as a person, not just as a waiter.

"I don't think it's wrong at all," you said, smiling back at Heeseung. "In fact, I'm flattered that you want to get to know me better."

Heeseung's smile returned, and he seemed to relax. "That's great to hear," he said.  You sighed, glancing down at your hands that rested in your lap. “Now, since you’ve asked me a question…can I ask you a question as well?” he asked.

"Of course," you said, returning his smile. "Ask me anything."

“Pinky promise you won’t run away once I ask.” he said, holding out his pinky.

You smiled at Heeseung's playful gesture and interlocked your pinky with his. "I pinky promise," you said, feeling a sense of lightheartedness.

Heeseung grinned at your response. "Alright, here's my question," he said, his voice teasing. “Are you single?”

You couldn't help but feel a little flustered at Heeseung's question, but at the same time, you found yourself drawn to him and his easygoing personality. You had to admit that you were interested in him, and you wondered if he felt the same way. "I am single, actually," you said, offering him a small smile. “Never had a boyfriend before, actually.”

“When you say never…do you mean that you’ve never dated seriously or have you really never dated…ever?” He asked, tilting his head to the side a bit.

You felt a little embarrassed by Heeseung's question, but you appreciated his curiosity and openness. "I've never really dated," you admitted, your voice soft. "I've always been focused on my work and my studies, so I haven't had a lot of time for relationships."

“Then that leads me to my next question.” He said.

“What would that be?” You asked.

Heeseung leaned forward slightly, his expression curious. You couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation as Heeseung leaned forward with a curious expression. You wondered what his next question would be.

“Are you considering this breakfast meetup a ‘date’?” He asked.

You felt a flutter in your stomach at Heeseung's question, and you couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way you did. "I hadn't really thought about it like that," you admitted, your voice soft. "But if you're asking if I'm interested in you...then yes, I am.”

He clicked his tongue, drinking the rest of his water, a mischievous glint in his eye as he said, “Do you know what I'm thinking?" he asked, his voice low and playful.

You shook your head, feeling a little shy and uncertain. "No, what are you thinking?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’m thinking…that we should get out of here…and go somewhere else. Somewhere more fun.”

You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation at Heeseung's suggestion. While you were a little shy and uncertain, you found yourself drawn to his playful and flirty personality.

"That sounds like a great idea," you said, feeling a smile spread across your face. "Where do you have in mind?"

He leaned back, a small smile on his face as he said, “Oh, you know…maybe my place…anywhere.”

You couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue and excitement at Heeseung's suggestion. While you were a little shy and uncertain, you found yourself drawn to his playful and flirty personality.

"Your place, huh?" you said, a hint of playfulness in your voice. "Are you trying to seduce me, Heeseung?"

Heeseung chuckled, seeming to enjoy your banter. "Maybe," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "But seriously, how about we go for a drive up the coast? We can stop at some scenic overlooks and take in the views."

You felt a sense of happiness and anticipation at the thought of a romantic drive with Heeseung. "That sounds amazing," you said, smiling at him.

He nodded, taking his wallet out as he threw money down on the table and held his hand out. You held onto his hand, following him out of the restaurant. 

As you walked out of the restaurant hand in hand with Heeseung, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for your upcoming drive. You felt a newfound connection with him, and the thought of spending more time together filled you with happiness. It was finally your turn to experience something with a boy after all these years. All this time of telling every man around you “no”, shying away from going on dates and so much more. 

As Heeseung led you towards his car, you took a moment to take in his features. He was tall with a lean build, and his dark hair was styled in a trendy yet effortless way. You found yourself drawn to his easy confidence and playful personality, and you couldn't wait to see where the day would take you.

As Heeseung opened the car door for you and helped you get in, you felt a sense of appreciation towards him. He seemed to value your comfort and well-being, and you found yourself feeling even more attracted to him.

As he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, you felt a sense of adventure and excitement. 

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As he drove, soft tunes emitted from his radio. He made small talk here and there about small things from places to visit in Malibu to asking you questions about your college life.

Once you two reached a nearby beach, he held the door open for you as you both got out. He offered to hold your shoes for you, to which you declined, preferring to keep your shoes on in the sand.

“You mustn't be from Cali if you’re genuinely going to wear your tennis shoes in the sand.” He said.

“You’re right, I’m not from Cali. I’m all the way from Virginia.” You said.

“West Virginia?” He asked. “Yes sir.” You told him, settling down beside him in the sand.

As you settled down beside Heeseung in the sand, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and ease around him. Despite your initial nervousness, he had a way of putting you at ease and making you feel at home.

"So you're from Virginia, huh?" he said, his voice curious. "What brought you all the way out to California? Just school?"

You smiled at Heeseung, appreciating his interest in your background. "School was definitely part of it," you said, nodding your head. "But I was also looking for a change of scenery and a chance to explore new opportunities."

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your perspective. "I get that," he said, his voice thoughtful. "California is definitely a place of opportunity and adventure, if you know where to look."

You laughed, feeling a sense of warmth towards Heeseung's positive outlook on life. "That's exactly what I was thinking," you said, smiling at him.

As you both sat in the sand, watching the waves crash against the shore, you felt a sense of connection and ease with Heeseung. Despite your different backgrounds and experiences, you shared a common sense of curiosity and adventure that drew you together.

“Thank you for buying me breakfast, by the way. It was really good, I had a lot of fun talking to you.” You told him.

Heeseung turned his head towards you, a soft smile on his face. "Of course," he said, his voice warm. "I had a great time too. It's not often I meet someone who's as adventurous and curious as you are."

You felt a sense of happiness and appreciation at Heeseung's compliment. "Thank you," you said, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "I guess I just like to explore and try new things."

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your perspective. "I can definitely relate to that," he said. "Did I ever tell you that I studied music in college? 

You felt a sense of surprise and curiosity at Heeseung's revelation. "No, you didn't," you said, your voice intrigued. "That's really interesting. What kind of music did you study?"

Heeseung smiled, seeming to enjoy your interest. "I studied contemporary guitar performance," he said. "It was a really intense program, but I learned a lot about discipline and hard work."

You felt a sense of admiration towards Heeseung's dedication and commitment to his craft. "That's really impressive," you said, smiling at him. "I can tell you're really passionate about music."

Heeseung nodded, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Definitely," he said. "Music is my life. It's a way to express myself and connect with others in a meaningful way."

You nodded, feeling a sense of appreciation towards Heeseung's outlook on life. "That's really beautiful," you said. "I think it's amazing when people can find something they're truly passionate about and pursue it with all their heart."

Heeseung grinned, seeming to share in your enthusiasm. "I agree," he said. "I think it's important to follow your dreams and passions, no matter what anyone else says. Life is too short to not do what makes you happy."

“You have an amazing outlook on life. I wish I were more like you…” You told him, turning your attention to the waves.

“More like me?” he asked.

“Yeah…I feel like I’m so…dull and pessimistic. I’m always a future person rather than a present person. You know what I mean?” You told him.

"I don't think you're dull or pessimistic at all," he said, his voice reassuring. "In fact, I think you're one of the most interesting and curious people I've met."

You felt a sense of warmth and comfort at Heeseung's words. "Really?" you said.

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your uncertainty. "Definitely," he said. "I think it's great that you're always thinking about the future and striving to improve yourself. But at the same time, it's important to enjoy the present moment and appreciate the little things in life." 

You nodded at his comment, “True…”

“Like now…I’m enjoying my time with you. I am taking in everything you say and relishing in the moment.” He told you.

“Oh…wow…um..” You trailed off, “That’s nice…”

He laughed at your words, “You’re so cute and awkward.”

You felt a sense of embarrassment and amusement at Heeseung's comment. "I'm not that awkward," you said, trying to sound indignant.

Heeseung chuckled, seeming to find your reaction amusing. "I think you're adorable," he said, his voice warm. "Your awkwardness is part of your charm."

“Shut up, Heeseung. Like actually, zip your mouth shut.” You sarcastically told him, pushing him away from you.

Heeseung laughed, seeming to enjoy your playful banter. "Hey, I'm just telling the truth," he said, his voice still warm. "You're cute when you're flustered."

 "Fine, fine," you said, trying to sound annoyed. "I guess I'll just have to accept that I'm adorable."

Heeseung grinned, seeming to appreciate your good humor. "That's the spirit," he said. "Embrace your inner adorableness."

As the sun continued to set over the beach, casting a warm glow over the sand, you felt a sense of happiness and contentment settle over you.  The warmth of Heeseung’s body bounced off of your skin, creating an energetic connection between the both of you. 

You could feel his kindness, his easy-goingness, him. And he felt good. You didn’t want this feeling to end. 

Watching the sunset and feeling the warmth of his presence, you felt a sense of peace and contentment settle over you. It was as if all the stresses and worries of everyday life had melted away, leaving you with nothing but the present moment and the person sitting beside you.

You turned to look at Heeseung, feeling a sense of appreciation and gratitude towards him. "Thank you for bringing me here," you said, your voice soft. "This is really beautiful."

Heeseung smiled, seeming to understand your sentiment. "I'm glad you like it," he said, his voice warm. "It's one of my favorite places to come and just relax."

You nodded, feeling a sense of connection and ease with Heeseung. There was something about him that made you feel more comfortable and at ease than you had with anyone else in a long time. It was a feeling you didn't want to let go of.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the beach into a soft orange glow, you felt a sense of both excitement and apprehension about what the future held.

You checked your phone, noticing that it was getting a bit late. You didn’t want to have to drive back to campus so late at night so you knew you’d have to leave soon.

Reluctantly, you said, “I’ve got to head back to the hotel. We only planned on staying for a night.”

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your situation. "I understand," he said, his voice warm. "I had a great time with you today. Thank you for spending time with me."

You smiled at him, feeling a sense of appreciation and warmth towards him. "Thank you for showing me this beautiful place," you said. "I had a great time too."

As you began to gather your things, you felt a sense of both excitement and sadness at the prospect of leaving. You had enjoyed your time with Heeseung so much that you didn't want it to end, but you knew that you had to return to your everyday life.

You two walked back to his car and began your journey back to the hotel.

“So you say you’ve neverrrrr had a boyfriend, yeah?” He asked, turning the music down.

“Never.” You told him. “Why are you so interested in my failed love life, Heeseung?” you teased, turning to look at him.

Heeseung chuckled, seeming to enjoy your playful banter. "I'm not interested in your failed love life," he said, his voice warm. "I'm interested in you.

"Well, I'm glad you're interested in me," you said, your voice laced with playfulness. "I think you're pretty interesting too."

Heeseung grinned, seeming to appreciate your flirtatious tone. "Oh really?" he said, his voice low and husky. "I have a feeling we could be pretty interesting together."

You felt a sense of electricity pass between the two of you, the chemistry palpable. "I think you might be right," you said, your voice soft and seductive.

As you drove back to the hotel, the tension between you and Heeseung continued to build, the air charged with anticipation and desire. Of course, you hadn’t had the intention of doing anything with him…not this soon. But, there was a lot of “want” behind your feelings for him. 

He pulled into the front of the hotel, putting his car into park, not saying anything. As the silence between you and Heeseung lingered, you couldn't help but feel the intensity of the attraction between the two of you. You had never felt this kind of desire before, and it both excited and scared you.

You turned to look at Heeseung, him doing the same. You noticed the way his eyes lingered on your lips; The desire was mutual, and it was clear that neither of you could ignore it any longer.

Without thinking, you leaned in towards him, feeling the warmth of his breath on your skin. Heeseung met you halfway, his lips meeting yours in a fiery kiss that left you breathless.

In that moment, everything else melted away, and all that mattered was the two of you and your desire for each other. As the kiss deepened, you felt a sense of electricity pass between the two of you, the passion building with every passing moment.

His hand slid up to rest against your cheek as he pulled your face closer to his own, lifting the arm rest  up that separated the two of you. His lips dominated your own, leading to him taking over and guiding you through the kiss. You’d never EVER gone this far with a man before…but it all felt so right. 

You felt a sense of surrender as Heeseung deepened the kiss, his touch igniting a fire within you that you had never felt before. As he pulled you even closer, you let yourself be consumed by the passion of the moment, giving yourself over to the desire that had been building between the two of you.

His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as he explored your mouth with his tongue, teasing and tasting you with a hunger that matched your own. You had never felt so alive, so consumed by the desire for another person.

“Shit…” He huffed out, pulling his lips away. The only thing left connecting you both was a small string of saliva coming from your mouth. “I forgot we were parked in the front.”

Feeling overwhelmingly confident, you replied, “So then let’s go somewhere else.”

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, clearly taken aback by your boldness. But as he looked at you, he saw the desire and passion in your eyes and he knew that he couldn't resist.

"Okay," he said, his voice husky with desire. "Somewhere else it is."

Just as quickly as he had said that, he drove off. As you drove through the dark streets, you could feel the excitement and anticipation building within you, the desire for Heeseung overwhelming.

Finally, Heeseung pulled into a secluded spot and turned off the car, turning to look at you with a hunger that matched your own. As he leaned in to kiss you, you felt a sense of electricity pass between the two of you, the passion growing more and more strong.

He unbuckled your seatbelt and pulled you closer to him as he settled you both in the back. You situated yourself on top of his lap as his hands gripped onto your waist. 

His fingers hovered over your top, stopping as he looked up at you, “When you say you’ve never had a boyfriend….does that mean you’re a virgin?”

You felt a rush of heat spread through your body at Heeseung's question, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. You had never been with a man before, and the thought of exploring your sexuality with Heeseung was both overwhelming and enticing.

"Y-yes," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I am a virgin."

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your hesitation. "It's okay," he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “Are you sure you want to do this? With me?”

You looked into Heeseung's eyes, seeing the genuine concern and care in them. You took a deep breath, feeling the nerves building within you, but also feeling a sense of trust in him.

"I'm sure," you said, your voice steady and firm. "I want to be with you.”

With that, Heeseung leaned in and kissed you again. The passion between you two was undeniable, and as you explored each other's bodies, you felt a sense of liberation and excitement wash over you.

He’d eventually stripped you of your clothing, laying you down on your back as he hovered over you. 

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yes,” You told him, “I’m okay.”

You were drunk off of his kisses, feeling nothing very pure ecstasy as his eyes sparkled underneath the moonlight.

He kissed down from your lips to your collarbone, soon attaching his lips around one of your nipples, threading the other between his index and thumb.

He sucked around the surrounding area, sending sparks throughout your body. You bit your lip, attempting to contain the explicit noises that so desperately wanted to escape.

He kept at this for a while before his free hand slid down your stomach atop your panties. Your breath hitched as you felt his body heat radiating down onto your pussy. 

“Oh shit, Heeseung…” You moaned as he removed his mouth from your breast and lifted your legs up and apart.

“Nervous?” He asked.

You nodded, “So nervous…”

“Don’t worry…I’ll take good care of you.” He whispered, slipping your panties to the side and pressing his thumb down against your clit.

“Oh!” You gasped, his thumb pressing down harder and harder to see how much you could take.

“Feels good?” He asked. You shyed away from answering him and looked down at your legs. “Y/N…”

You shook your head, covering your face as you noticed your confidence slowly diminishing.

His thumb withdrew from you and was replaced by his mouth. His tongue lapped up your sensitive flaps and you couldn’t help but let out a loud string of moans. His mouth felt so good against you, your fingers were nothing compared to how good he felt.

You took your arms down and ran your fingers through his hair, urging him to go faster as you could feel a knot growing in your lower belly.

He sucked on your clit, allowing spit to dribble out of his mouth onto you, adding more pleasure.

Before you knew it, you were coming undone on his tongue. He happily lapped your release up, licking his lips clean of your juices.

He looked up at you, and you looked down at him as you came down from your high.

“You look so pretty like this,” He said, slipping his shirt off, “All laid out. Just for me.”

Once his pants were off, you could see his print in his briefs. You should’ve known that he’d be big, how could a man like him be anything but big?

“I don’t have any condoms…” He said, caressing your thighs, “Sure you still wanna continue?”

“I’m sure.” You told him, allowing him to pull your panties completely off.

He did away with his briefs and you took him all in. He was big. He was perfect. He was everything and above.

He opened your legs some more to accommodate for himself and placed his hand on your pelvis, holding himself within his hand.

“If it hurts, tell me.” He said. 

He slowly lined himself up with your entrance and pushed in, looking up at your face as it contorted up from the stretch. You held onto his hand and he intertwined his fingers with your own.

“Fuck…” He groaned, tightly holding onto you. “You’re so tight, y/n…”

You looked down at where you both had connected, taking a few deep breaths before urging him to continue.

He slowly started to thirst inside of you, starting off gentle before you told him he could speed up. Soon he went from gentle and unsteady to hard and controlled. 

His stomach brushed against your clit with each thrust, adding on to the pure bliss you were feeling. You thought you’d last much longer than you did, but with the combination of you being stimulated in more ways than one, you came within minutes. Tears fell from your eyes as moans ripped through your throat and your hand tightened within him as your nails dug in.

His thirsts staggered and he quickly stopped, pulling out and finishing on your stomach. Your head fell back and you closed your legs, feeling your body sink into his seat from exhaustion.

For a while, he didn’t say anything. But eventually, he slipped his clothing back on and opened the glove compartment, wiping your stomach with some few napkins he had.

You were too tired to do anything, and being the sweetheart he appeared to be, he put your clothes back on for you and held you against him as you grounded yourself.

Eventually, you recovered from the intense first time you had with him and hugged him, “Thank you…”

He took a deep breath, “Are you going to call me when you make it back to campus?”

“Yes…” You smiled.

“And are you going to text me every single day until we see each other again?” He asked.

“I will.” You told him.

He kissed your cheek and helped you back into the front seat, driving you back to the hotel and walking you into the lobby.

As you stood in the lobby, you turned to face Heeseung, feeling a sense of sadness wash over you. You didn't want this night to end, didn't want to say goodbye to him just yet.

Heeseung seemed to sense your hesitation, and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close.

"It's not goodbye," he whispered. "It's just see you later."

You nodded, feeling a sense of comfort in his words. You hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go.

"Thank you for tonight," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Thank you for being here with me," he replied, his voice just as soft.

With one last kiss, he pulled away, and you watched as he walked out of the hotel, feeling a sense of sadness and longing in your heart.

But as you made your way back to your room, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special between you and Heeseung. And you couldn't wait to see where it would lead.

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taglist: @jungwo-nnie @voidbeomgyu

[gemstarstarlight]

Two IMPORTANT things I’ve decided in this conference I’ve been going to:

I love it and am going to be processing it for a lot of days. 2 most profound observations so far are submission and obedience are not the same thing and require different attitudes, and our culture is actually moving towards a more biblical understanding, even though we might not see it. Will expound on both of those at some point.

I’ve decided to start a series on this blog I’m vaguely calling Theology Thursdays. I doubt it will be every Thursday, but I want to post about religion, particularly Christianity and even more particularly evangelical Christianity, regularly. Part of it is the season I’m in (I’m training to be a campus missionary), but honestly I’ve been wanting to write about religion, theology, and Christ and the church for a while. I feel like it’s something people aren’t doing on Tumblr, and if they are it’s more in a “processing and venting” sort of way. I want to do research. I want to make essays. I want to make content you can cite and think about.

Now, I COMPLETELY understand if that’s not content you are up for. I will be tagging my content as #christianity and #theology thursdays so you don’t have to follow it. Will not be offended if you unfollow: it’s up to you. But I’ve been feeling a real call (pull from the Holy Spirit) to do it in the last few months. So I’ll be doing it. Partially because I think that’s what God wants me to do, but also because I think I’m going to need to write so I can process what I’m learning.

And again, I just don’t think there’s a voice for people like me. People who are queer but also are Christian, people who are both conservative and liberal, people who really want to see God’s will in the world but are unsure how to do it when our immediate heritage is not working. People who stick out and know they do. People who are anxious when they walk into a room of Christians or queer people because they don’t feel like they fit or agree with either group.

But if nobody speaks up, if nobody chooses to create space, who will?

I’m not claiming to be an expert. I’m not claiming to be perfect. But I love Jesus. I love the people who love him. I want to see reconciliation between queer people and the church. I want to see reconciliation between Gen-Z and the church. I want to create a space where people can learn, where people can grow and ask questions, and where people can feel safe being confused and hopefully find some clarity. And I want to actually do researched takes, rather than only talking based on experiences. I want to be creating a theology by going back to the Bible and what it truly says and means, rather than what culture (Christian and secular) says. Most importantly, I want you guys to know Jesus, my Jesus, not who you may have met through culture or your family or your experiences. You don’t have to love him or accept him, but I hate watching people reject a God that isn’t really him.

So I invite everyone who follows me to go on the journey with me! You’ll probably get something from me soon. I hope we can all grow and think together about such topics. And, most importantly, it can be a place that destigmatizes Christianity and provides information.

[sallysetoncore]

wip game challenge situation

tagged by my beloved @scarecrowmax and @deanology101 aka my fellow contentnatural admins <3 <3 kissing u on the foreheads

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs

okay so here's the thing b4 i do this. i just moved across the country to start a new job so unfortunately writing (fan fiction, plays, poetry, etc) has not been able to be prioritized as of late. but i will comply anyway and do my best. genuinely unsure if any of these will ever be revisited:

Untitled Document

Untitled Document

Untitled Document

iced panera coffee

wicked games (spnish)

Jesus Camp But a Play???

STEVIE'S ABANDONED MUSIC (spn)

give em hell attitude / defending my life (spn)

never wonder if the same pressure would’ve pulled you under (spn)

dear brother (spn)

kissing lessons (spn)

therapy? in this economy? (enjoltaire)

i genuinely cannot think of any urls to tag i am so braindead (from the moving across the country) which happened literally last weekend

[elvisabutler]

love is all that i can give to you

summary: vampires in theory should not be able to procreate. you learn through a bit of an accident that such a theory is wrong. vampires being protective though? that's a theory that's pretty damn true.

fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 )

rating: t-ish? there's a bit of cursing, mild implications of violence, i'd peg it as a t.

word count: 3566

tw: blood mention, vampires, implications of hurting other people, werewolves, twilight jokes because do you really enjoy twilight to some degree if you can't joke about it? pregnancy and babies. a very blink and you miss it mention of child loss and a small mention of austin's mom.

author's note: so. once upon a time i posted an austin as a vampire fic called heart's got teeth. had blood kink, we all loved it. or like some people loved it and then life moved on. however, @diva-1992 requested vampire baby fic in the simplest forms. i said hey i should get it done within a week. that was a month ago and i'd like to formally apologize, things went real weird in my life. however, i do honor my requests when i say i'm gonna do them so hope this did what you wanted, my dear and i'd- promise that if you request something from me again i won't take this long but honestly, much like my "how long will this series be?" estimates are, my "how long will this take to write?" estimates are not the most accurate ever. i've also rewritten this more times than i want to count. not beta read but gave it a quick once over. whatever i missed blame on my two hours of sleep.

"You smell weird." Darce says one day when you're out for coffee, an old habit that started while Austin was filming Elvis and you found yourself wanting to know more about his costars. It's comfortable and routine enough by now that despite the whirlwind that's become Austin's and your life since the release of Elvis, you purposefully make time for it in your schedule. Still, when Darce says things like that out of the blue you have to question why you still choose to hang out with the man.

"Is that your way of telling me I need to shower?" You ask slowly, taking a sip of your peppermint tea. "Because I literally showered like 10 minutes before I met you here. I know I didn't sweat that bad already."

He laughs, shaking his head. "No, it's- you normally smell like your perfume or shampoo but today you don't. You smell kind of like a bakery. Like the bread cooking, maybe a pastry? I don't know what exactly it is, it's just weird. Because I don’t know where I’m getting that smell from.”

You scrunch up your nose partially because you feel a roll of nausea overcome you at the idea of food, which- when did start to get hungry this quickly after eating- and partially because there’s zero reason you should smell like that. In the end you end up just shrugging. “Maybe you’re smelling the girls behind us. They definitely look like they’ve got some of that Bath and Body Works Vanilla stuff going on.”

Darce just laughs and his comment is quickly forgotten until later on that night when Austin says nearly the same thing.

"You taste off." Austin looks at you confused as he pulls away from your neck after taking a sip. “Are you-”

"What the hell? First Darce, now you?" You cut Austin off in a huff, attempting to pull yourself up the bed and out from under him. ‘If I call Kelvin or Alton or Olivia, are they going to tell me I sound weird? I’m pretty sure I’m not hearing weird unless I hallucinated you saying that and I can see you right in front of me looking like you didn’t just tell me I taste off.”

Austin can see that you’re working yourself up and while he has found you very attractive when you get angry, he’s not in the mood to deal with it right now and honestly he’s just as confused as you about Darce saying you smell weird combined with you tasting off somehow to him. 

“Baby- I’m not- you taste almost like you’re sick.” He pauses and very quickly follows that with more of an explanation. “I don’t think you are sick, before you start worrying. But you just taste different. Like my taste buds are telling me not to drink from you. I can't explain it. I've never really experienced this before."

Somehow that was the wrong thing to say because you very quickly follow it up with. “Oh, so now I taste like something you shouldn’t drink from. You’ve just developed an aversion to me, okay. That’s great. I get what, a few months of you drinking from me until your body decides nope, go find another-”

The growl that leaves Austin’s mouth when he kisses you trying to get you to hush up is a warning. He only ever really does it when he starts to get angry and right now hearing you go down the line of thinking he can tell you’re going down is making him see red. He wants to drink from you, he wants to turn you, he wants everything with you and he’s told you this a million times but somehow it always escapes you when your brain is making you doubt his undying- literally- love for you. 

He pulls away and his hand just grazes the side of your face. “Darling. I love you more than anything I’ve ever seen in this world. No amount of my body deciding that it’s not okay for me to drink your blood will change that. Calm down. I’ll ask one of my older vampire friends. Okay? They might have experience with this sort of thing.”

You nuzzle at his hand, your temper cooling just a bit because he’s right. He does love you so very much and he reminds you of that every day. “You promise?”

He smiles slightly and kisses your forehead. “Promise.”

He actually forgets to ask because despite not drinking from you- well you happen to enjoy the night anyway. But the whole thing is forgotten anyway until one night a few weeks later when you’ve fallen asleep as you’ve been doing so often lately and Austin comes home from a hunt to hear your heart beating far too fast for everything to be okay. He trips over a chair or two before he gets to your shared room only to find you fast asleep. Breathing just fine with your nightgown a little tight over your chest but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He looks at your sleeping form in confusion trying to focus on the heartbeat he hears only to realize it’s not yours.If he focuses enough he can hear yours sounding normal but the overwhelming one, the one that has him falling to his knees is still coming from you just not where your heart is. 

“You’re- Holy shit, you’re pregnant.” He whispers to himself knowing fully well you're still asleep and that you're not awake to hear him. You’re pregnant and he didn’t even realize that was possible but the proof is there, he can hear a heartbeat that beats faster than yours centered in your lower abdomen. You’re pregnant with his child that he figured he’d never have. He wants to wake you up and tell you, but he’s covered in blood right now and you need your sleep. God that was why you had been so tired, you were- He would tell you tomorrow morning but for now he was going to shower and curl up with his head next to your stomach just listening to your child’s heartbeat.

When you wake up it’s hard to do so, partially because waking up in general is hard right now- you’ve been so tired that you’re seriously considering going to the doctor to figure out what’s going wrong. But the other reason is that you have an Austin shaped lump kissing on your stomach. That’s weird but not entirely unheard of, especially if he’s in a mood.

“Austin?” You question, your hand moving to his head and just sort of gliding through his hair. ”Hi baby, what are you doing?”

He hums against your stomach and you can’t help but giggle at the sensation. “Kissing my baby.” His lips curl into a smirk at the joke he makes that he gets but you don’t. 

“Oh.” You respond before using you grip to pull him just slightly away from your stomach so he can look up at you. “Uh huh. Kissing your baby. I’m up here. You’re kissing my stomach.”

Austin bites his lip and just looks so happy that you are wondering what the hell is going on. Did he drink from a drunk person? Is he drunk? Is he high? What is happening right now? Your eyes narrow just a tad while Austin just grins at you, his lower lip still being slightly bitten by one of his canines. “No. I’m kissing my baby.”

You understand the words that just came out of his mouth but your brain fails to properly process them until you just stare at Austin’s grin for just a little bit longer and notice his hands are cupping your stomach. “You’re kissing your baby. I’m- Are you telling me I’m- you’re a vampire.”

“I know.” He whispers, moving from his position in your lap and up to your face where he just places a hand on either side of your face. “I can hear them, darling. That’s- You’re definitely pregnant. I don’t know how but-”

“I’m pregnant with your baby.” You manage to state, wide eyed and in such shock you feel a bit of nausea at the thought. “That you didn’t realize I could have. Oh my god.”

He nods and the grin just stays on his face as he gives you a kiss, it’s soft and gentle, almost as if he’s scared you’ll break before he pulls away. “You’re pregnant with my baby. That explains why I couldn’t drink from you. I’m not- it’s the one rule vampires have and I guess our bodies won’t even let us do it either. You taste off because you’re not just you. You’re you and our baby.”

“Our baby.” You let out a nervous laugh. You’re happy, but this is so sudden and so unexpected you don’t quite know how to react. “I- I need to go to the doctor, oh god what if it’s not human- I mean I’d still love it anyway but- Aus! I can’t drink blood what if it needs blood-” Austin shushes you with a finger to your lips.

“You would have already been craving it, baby. And all I think you’ve wanted is steak and spinach which have iron and that’s a normal pregnancy thing, I think. Ashley- no Ashley had to deal with that so that’s a normal pregnancy thing. We’ll go to the doctor, get you checked out. I’ll call up the older vampires I know. See what I can find out. We’ll- if anyone can do this, it’s you."

There's times when Austin annoys you and makes you want to drive a stake through his heart because he's being just that much of a pain in your ass. This isn't one of them, this is one of those times you find yourself so overcome with love that all you really want to do is kiss him over and over again. You sniffle a little, tears of what you think are joy threatening to spill out before you kiss Austin softly. "Austin Butler, you don't need to say something as charming as that, you've already got me pregnant."

"I'm only telling my goddess of a girlfriend the truth." He replies simply before pulling you out of bed. "Now, mama, I think you deserve a special breakfast made by your very appreciative baby daddy."

The thing is Austin before you were pregnant was protective which was fun. It was hot even, but since he found out you were pregnant it’s gotten so much worse.You swear you can’t even leave the house without him following behind you making sure you don’t fall down the two steps outside of his house and of course he needs to walk you to the car. Now that he’s at the car, oh well he might as well come with you and scare off anyone who comes anywhere within a 5 foot radius of you and your stomach.The amount of times you had to apologize for Austin’s behavior increased the further along you were. It all came to a head one day when you were going to go out for your lunch date with Darce. He had been filming a new movie and so you hadn’t seen him for months in person. He hadn’t seen you in person for months, sure you had told him you and Austin were expecting but- there was a difference between that and seeing you in person. 

“I’ll be back in a couple hours!” You shout heading to the door knowing fully well that Austin is practicing his lines for his upcoming shoot. “Love you, Aus!”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” He asks, popping his head out of the room he was in. “I can bring the script with me, it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s lunch with Darce, Austin. It’s harmless.” Your hand strays to your stomach and rubs it, more out of comfort than anything else. “I’ll be fine, I promise.” 

His eyebrow quirks up. “It’s with Darce? I thought-” You hold your hand up.

“Not another word, Mr. Butler. I will see you later, go read your lines.” You smile before making a quick getaway or what you thought was a quick getaway.

When you see Darce at the restaurant you can’t help the way you grin and end up just barreling into him with the biggest hug you could manage. Rather than just letting you hug him he picked you up, mindful of your bump. He puts you down and motions for you to twirl which you do without question. 

“You look phenomenal and I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, Austin is a lucky man.” Darce pulls out your chair and waits for you to sit down. “How did you get him to let you leave his sight? I’ve seen the stories.”

You groan. “I practically ran out of the house. He was mildly offended when i told him it was you I was going out with.” 

Darce opens his mouth before shutting it with what sounds like a mix of a groan and sigh. You can’t help but tilt your head and raise an eyebrow waiting for him to say whatever has him making that noise. “I’m not- Really not surprised.” 

Now it was your turn to be making the weird noise because you’re confused. Honestly, the way Austin had been protecting you was weird but you pegged it as him wanting to protect something he didn’t know you two could have. You could understand that, but separating you from a friend? Someone who he also defines as at least somewhat of a friend just didn’t make sense. There had to be another reason because you know that Darce would protect you just like he’d protect any of his friends. “Why? Because from where I’m standing it’s just my boyfriend being mildly controlling because I’m pregnant. But maybe that’s just me.”

There is a moment when Darce just looks into the distance behind you like he has seen a thousand lifetimes pass before his eyes. It occurs to you that maybe Austin is madman and is behind you, but when you don’t hear Darce say Austin’s name you realize it’s just that Darce doesn’t want to answer the question. You start to open your mouth to speak before- “Probably because I’m a werewolf and his brain is telling him I’m going to eat you and your kid.”

“You’re not a cannibal- Hold- What.” You brain had only really processed the words going to eat you and your kid, nothing else originally but once you started speaking your brain caught up fairly quickly and you find that your head is swimming a little before you speak again. “Did you just- You’re a werewolf? You- I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Please don’t.” Darce says very quickly as soon as you start breathing a little quicker. “I thought you knew.”

“You-” You force yourself to take a calming breath because stress wasn’t good for the baby but if looks could kill the one you give Darce would do it. “In what universe do you think I assume that everyone I meet is a supernatural entity. My boyfriend being one is an anomaly and for statistical purposes I don’t count it in my daily assumption/allotment of supernatural creatures. I didn’t think-” You pause. “No one assumes vampires and werewolves are real. I can be forgiven for not thinking you were a werewolf. Were you ever going to tell me this? Was he?”

And almost as if Austin had suddenly turned into Beetlejuice or just sensed something was wrong you feel the very familiar arms of your boyfriend wrapping around your shoulders. “No, because I assumed you knew. He’s not subtle about it. Look at him.”

Any other time Austin’s arms would be a comforting balm for you but all it inspires in you in that exact moment is bit of rage and overwhelming annoyance. Your voice drops to a very sharp whisper. “You remember how I reacted when you told me you were a vampire, right honey? How I was surprised? Hm. Now what makes you think I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Darce fucking Montgomery is a werewolf. Get your arms off me, darling. I’m mad and I don’t think you’re gonna like me mad right now.”

“Baby-” Austin starts before you cut him off.

“Y/N-” Darce also starts before you cut him off in the same breath.

“No. Both of you. I-” You shrug your shoulders to get Austin’s arms off your shoulders and move to get up out of your chair, a little slower than you’d like which gives austin enough time to try and stop you. “No, I’m going to go home- I’ll leave the two of you to have a little supernatural tete a tete.” 

“Darling-” He stops himself while trying to grab ahold of your shoulders. “You know- Look at me I didn’t mean anything by not telling you. I honestly thought you knew because you took me being a vampire so well- don’t- I just want to protect you and Kenna Rose.”

You look up at Austin focusing on his eyes and how he looks like he’s liable to cry in public, something he’s never been a fan of doing even before Elvis and his newfound larger fame. It’s a sign that he’s being genuine and it makes your shoulders loosen a little and the tension to leave your frame. Austin’s still looking at you and his hand moves to your stomach when your daughter chooses that moment to actually kick at where Austin’s palm is. Any tension and most of the anger that was still in your system just sort of floats away once you see Austin’s small smile at the gesture. You’re still annoyed and both him and Darce owe you a number of things to make up for this but maybe they weren’t completely silly for thinking you knew. 

“I know Aus.” You whisper, nuzzling at his neck and placing a soft kiss there. “You’re just being- really overbearing. I know you want to protect me. And I know that you want to protect Kenna Lori Rose.” His eyebrows go up at the use of his mother’s name breaking up the name he thought you two had decided on for your daughter. “I’m not complaining about that, but Austin, trust me to know when I’m doing too much and to protect myself. I don’t want to lose her any more than you do.”

Darce pipes up from his seat. “Austin, you know you’re part of the pack- my pack at least. All three of you, I couldn’t hurt them if I tried. My wolf would rather I jump in front of a bunch of silver bullets.”

You snicker and Austin looks at you with a bit of admonishment before exhaling and getting on his knees to press a soft kiss to your stomach. Your hand moves to touch his head, your fingers running through his long locks in a bit of comfort. “I know that, Y/N. She’s just special to- I never thought I’d have a kid since I was turned and you’re giving me one. I’m getting one from the most perfect human I’ve ever met.” He places another kiss, knowing fully well that someone is probably hiding a bush across the street with a camera taking a picture of this but he can’t bring himself to care. “And you’re- Kenna Lori Rose, you snuck that one on me, darling. Naming her partially after my mom.”

The smile that crosses your lips as you shrug is soft and barely there. “She’s a miracle and her due date is on the 27th. How could I not?”

His hand moves to his eyes to wipe at them as he stands up and pulls you close to his chest. “You really had no choice.” 

“I mean, I did, but I knew it would mean something to you.” You pause and look over at Darce before turning back to Austin. “So, can I enjoy my lunch date or does Mr. Overprotective Dad need to make sure I’m eating my veggies.” 

Austin has the decency to look chagrined before he holds up his hands. “Enjoy away, I’m pretty sure Jupiter and Ashley would welcome me with open arms today.” His lips sneak a quick kiss and his hand sneaks a quick brush of your bump before he lets you go back to sitting down. He looks at Darce. “Take care of her this lunch and we’ll talk about that whole godfather thing.”

Darce doesn’t say a word when you narrow your eyes at him. You wait until Austin’s out of earshot before you say the one joke that’s actually been in the back of your mind. “This isn’t some weird imprinting thing like Twilight, right?”

Darce’s laughter almost gets the pair of you kicked out of the restaurant. 

You get your answer when Kenna is born and the first person other than you and Austin to hold her is him. It’s not. It’s just a werewolf protecting his most fragile pack member just like Austin’s thing was him protecting his coven’s most fragile member. 

It doesn’t stop after she’s born and you’re okay with it.

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 8 of ?)

gif by @thesoldiersminute can i send you a cake or something cause fuCk!!!!!!!!!!! he's beautiful

a/n: to everyone still reading this fic, my sweet angels, ily!! this fic is so near and dear to my heart and @stxdyblr-2k has just done such an amazing job with it i can't even thank her enough. as per the last part, this one is also mostly her, just me editing but i hope you guys love it as much as i did!!! don't worry, there's gonna be a lot more :) and i apologize for being not as active, i'm gonna try to get a couple of requests up that i'm really excited about this week tysm for being patient with me <3

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five six seven | my masterlist

prompt: ada has some talking to do, and you're not about to deny her.

warnings: fluff, semi-angst, tommy being the cocky mf he is (let's be real, it's only acceptable cause he's so damn fine), john being cute and in love and jesus i am head over heels

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03, @operation-spot

You had planned to go to Ada's after work, but she obviously had other ideas. She didn't even bother walking in and asking to speak to you; instead, choosing to bang on the window closest to your desk and yelling at you to "fucking hurry up!" Your boss opened the door for you expectantly, not offering you any protection; he was firmly in the Shelby's ever growing pocket and as long as he could go home to his children, his sickly wife and their six bed in the country, with a full time nurse and nanny, he had no interest in crossing Thomas.

"Ada, I was coming to see you after work, I swear."

"I know. I was going to let you but..." She trailed off. "We need to talk. I don't know what the fuck is going on with you. John said he'd seen you last night and you asked after me."

John had indeed seen you last night. It was strange waking up with him, used to leaving almost immediately after he was finished with you. Your small bed could barely comfortably fit you both, having to intertwine your limbs with John's to not fall off the edge. You had awoken to John pressing a kiss to your forehead before lazily trailing his fingers between your legs, waiting for you to open your eyes before settling between your thighs, tongue swirling around your clit, making you cum before sunrise.

"Do we have to do this in the street?" You practically begged, the shouting having attracted onlookers.

"I wanted to talk to you before anyone else in the family gets to you because I need you to be honest."

"Ada-"

"No, I'm doing you a favour here, so you fucking listen. Right now, between you and I, no bullshit. No tactics. No white lies. You have to tell me exactly what we're dealing with." She looked frantic, scared for some reason.

You nodded, walking her down the side street, careful not to link arms with her. You knew she was doing you a favour; this wasn't about forgiveness or friendship, much more was at stake here.

"To what extent was Thomas involved?"

That took you off guard. Ada read the confusion on your face and sighed impatiently, her subtle plea for you to keep up.

Shit. You remembered your conversation with John, how she thought this was her brother's way of pushing her out of the company.

"Don't spare my feelings. What did my brother say to you?"

"He said it was in our mutual interest that you didn't find out. He didn't care who John slept with but cared who you trusted so I had to trust him. He said there was no point in upsetting you over one of John's conquests who he'd tire of in a month."

"That all?"

"Pretty much, I didn't know Arthur knew. He never talked to me about it, did laugh at Thomas' digs now that I think on it-"

"Did you know Isaiah and Michael knew?"

"I thought they were aware but no one ever talked to me about it."

"Of course they wouldn't." She hissed, frustration causing a nerve on her neck to jump.

Ada and you had spoken for years about the rampant misogyny of her brothers and any men you two came into contact with. Although you were both far more reserved than you used to be as rebellious and adventurous thirteen year olds, you'd both grew increasingly angry at how you were treated. She'd long written off her brothers as womanisers, who saw women as purely sexual and entertaining, objectifying them. You both long despised how they dehumanised women. She was amazed that Thomas had attempted to settle down and managed a somewhat loving marriage, but resented him for his carelessness and need for power which inevitably killed his wife.

"Ada, I just want to say..." You licked your lip nervously, unsure of how to continue.

"You need to talk, Y/N. No bollocks."

"Before last night, he'd never been to mine or called. I always went to him."

The muscle in her jaw tensed.

"You slept with him last night then?" You met her question with silence and she rolled her eyes. "The second he said he saw you I knew you had, he wanted to tell me that he was going to continue seeing you and that he hoped I'd be able to accept it one day."

"We never intended to hurt you. It was meant to be fun at first, but now..." You cut yourself off with a sigh, unable to admit you'd fallen for her brother.

"Isn't fun for me. It's fucking embarrassing." She paused, lighting a cigarette, nervous to offer you one, conflicted within herself. She raised her eyebrow, prompting you to continue, the mannerism so similar to her brother’s.

"It should never have happened. I am never going to be able to fix this, I'm so fucking ashamed for doing this to you, Ada."

She sulked, silently drinking in your words.

"Obviously it's not going to be the same, yeah? I'm really fucking upset. I'm so fucked off with you but Poll's really worried about a coup. She thinks you're being used as blackmail against John to keep him on side with Tommy while he expands."

"Makes sense."

"You're part of a much bigger game, you know?"

You nodded. "Yeah, and I knew I would lose from the start. Fucking tragic, Ada."

"My brothers keep pushing, keep growing the business. They keep chasing this prize but I don't think it even exists."

"If it does, it isn't worth it if this shit is the cost. I didn't mean to play into his hands."

"You couldn't have known." She said with a shrug, " 'Siah thinks John loves you."

"He told me last night." Several times, this morning also. You would never tire of hearing him moan those words into your neck or being yelled from your front door as he left for the office.

"You love him, don't you?" She said bluntly, a statement more than a question, your face suddenly hot with embarrassment.

Everything you'd suppressed for months, everything that you'd hidden, every time you lied smiling, every knowing glance from a stranger, every degrading comment from under Thomas' breath.

"I do, an awful lot."

She pauses, relighting her cigarette, "The worst thing about the entire situation is it could've been fine if someone told me. I wouldn't have loved it, obviously, but-" Ada sighed, rubbing her temple with her free fingers.

"I thought you'd hate me."

"How could I? I'd be more angry that you'd drop your standards for my brother. Seriously? Him? Mate…."

"Come off it, I've always thought he was charming. He's funny, smart-"

"Don't gush over my brother, it's grim. I'm just so fucked off you all lied to me." She peered at you through her cigarette smoke. "If you love him and he loves you..." she pressed her lips together as she tensed her jaw, "I could get over it. If it'd make you both happy. But that's going to take a long time. A long time."

"Ada-"

"Look I have meetings and shit to sort, I have to run." She interjected, checking her wristwatch, adjusting the cap which sat atop her trendy short haircut. You caught her arm before she could turn away.

"Thank you. For understanding."

She shrugged you off, "I don't get it, I'd never do that to you. But you also don't get to choose who you're attracted to. I'm really hurt, but I do love you and John a lot. He mentioned that after last night you helped him, got him cleaned up. I have to believe that you both do love each other. So I have to believe that this is a good idea for you both and not stand in your way."

"I love you, Ada. Can we hang out soon, just us two?"

She shook her head. "I need some time, I'll be in touch, yeah?"

You nod, stretching out your pinky finger. She sighed and linked it with hers, as you'd done since you were children, a silent signal to each other after a fight that you still had the other's back.

"Right, I've got to get back to this meeting, Tom is getting done by Polly for nearly getting John killed. I need to be there in case one of the lads needs patching up."

"Your aunt has a nasty left hook, I'll give her that."

"She'll be pleased you think so, she wanted Tommy to slice you to bits for crossing me."

"Fuck’s sake, thanks for the warning, I'll keep my head down. Good luck with the meeting."

Ada nodded and you watched her walk away, a Blinder suddenly appearing by her side seemingly from nowhere. This city was crawling with them. They clambered into Ada's car as you watched the car disappear into the distance before walking back to work. Thankfully, with your head still attached to your shoulders.

*******

Ada arrived at Thomas' estate, following the swell of shouting voices to his exquisite library. It was eye roll worthy and typical Tommy to choose the location of his post-fuckup debrief to be where he had the best view of the gardens, river and rolling hills. She could bet he'd sit in a corner and stare at the view, zoning out their aunt's lecture.

An armed blinder she vaguely recognised opened the door. Thomas was making a statement today with the armed guards, she noted. Her brothers really were fucked up. Arthur was an alcoholic killer who couldn't understand that Thomas would betray them all eventually, Finn was letting the tokyo and the razor chasers that circled him distract him from keeping the family together, John was apparently in love with her best friend, and finally, Thomas nearly got Arthur and John murdered last night with his foolishness. At this point only herself and Polly were holding everyone together, keeping everything silently moving along.

The door opened, and she was the last to arrive, Polly glaring as she murmured an apology, standing next to Finn. His eyes were bloodshot, grey-purple smudges under his eyes, he'd obviously had a heavy night. The last thing the poor lad needed was Polly's shrill yelling and the blinding sun streaming through the large immaculately crafted windows, which he'd tried to block with the brim of his cap. John caught her eye, acknowledging his sister with a nod, which she returned with a small tight smile.

Ada couldn't bear to think about the reasoning behind her brother's smug interjections in between Polly's rant to Thomas who was listening wordlessly, smoking.

Y/N and John? It didn't make sense. They had a similar sense of humour, sure, but she was far too intelligent for him. He also had a swarm of children, while Y/N preferred a wild night out only staggering home at daybreak.

It made far more sense for Y/N to end up with Michael, or if it had to be a brother, Finn. They were younger, so had less responsibilities and commitments so they could keep up with her. But John? Of course she knew he was believed to be the Casanova of her brothers, he was kind, he was an excellent father, yet he could never keep anyone around long, usually John was chasing someone new after a month or so. That's why the revelation that John had been involved with her best friend for almost half a year had taken her completely by surprise. Maybe that was why she was open to them being together. That had to be it. This relationship was completely out of character for John; she needed to believe that he was serious about his feelings towards Y/N and wasn't going to fuck her over. Because if he did, John would be a dead man.

"I don't know why you're all bleating at me. Yeah, I overlooked some details in the planning of last night's meeting-"

"Such as warning us that they were really fucked off because you'd helped bomb their warehouse." John pointed out.

"What do you want me to do? Apologise? Grow up, John." Tommy snapped back.

"They had loaded guns against their heads, they deserve an apology." Ada interjected, John giving her an appreciative flash of smile. She did love her big brother. Despite the fact that she'd pretty much only been yelling at him for the past month, John never dismissed her feelings and only apologised. It was confusing to admit to herself, but when Isaiah told her that he was confident John loved Y/N, she felt a wave of relief. At least he cared about her; it was the bare minimum but the Shelbys were notorious for not even meeting the bare minimum for acceptable social interactions.

"They didn't fuckin’ get shot." Thomas stated, his voice matter of fact and condescending.

"Do you ever hear yourself speak?" Polly spit back at him. "They didn't get shot this time. But it was too fucking close."

"It won't happen again, Polly." Tommy sighed. "What else can I say? Sorry lads, take the weekend off?"

"It's a good start." Arthur countered, "You're also paying for the extension on my house and my wedding."

"Fuck’s sake Arthur I was joking. But fine. Sure."

"You can't buy your family off." Polly scoffed at him.

"Think of it as compensation, a settlement." Thomas coolly corrected his aunt. "What do you want, John? A fucking farm?"

John hesitates while Finn whispered suggestions to him, Ada meeting his stare, John raising a brow to her in question. She sighed and nodded her approval.

"You can pay off my mortgage Tom, give me the kids' birthdays off-"

"So you'd never come into work then?" Finn cut in, Ada elbowing him in the ribs. She usually enjoyed Finn's remarks but she knew where John was heading; she could barely breathe.

"Tom, you're also to leave Y/N completely alone. If you have a problem with her, you come to me about it." He said firmly.

Arthur and Tommy traded knowing looks, obviously more aware of the ins and outs of his relationship than Ada was.

"Also if you're paying for Arthur's wedding I want the equivalent in cash." He adds.

Tommy shrugged. "Whatever. As long as we can move past last night and focus on today's order of business."

John nodded, satisfied. He knew Tom wouldn't care, but just saying out loud that he was involved with Y/N and having his family aware was a relief. He hadn't realised until he finally admitted how stressful keeping his relationship a secret was. Now, he could stop worrying about Tommy interfering.

Polly rolled her eyes, lecturing the brothers on their lack of moral backbone to allow themselves to be bought off, but dismissed them. She caught Ada's arm in hers on their way out, pulling her far from earshot.

"So Y/N and John are together now?" She asked, her face firm and scowling.

"Polls, I talked with her, she's aware of what she's done. She apologised and meant it. What more can I ask for?"

"Her not to have fucked him in the first place."

"She said that. Look, Polls, they're happy right? John seems happy-"

"He always is when he gets a leg over."

"You know she looked after him last night? Fixed him up after the meeting."

"Meeting? It was a fucking set up." Polly hissed but her face had softened. "She cleaned him up?"

"Antiseptic, bandages and all."

Polly looked subtly impressed, although she'd never admit it. "He went to hers? Not yours?"

"He wanted to talk to her." Ada shrugs, "I saw her this morning and-"

"What do you mean? You bumped into her?"

"I went to her work." Ada admitted, her aunt shooting her an exasperated glare.

"Why do I bother? Nobody listens to me."

"I had to talk to her, I'm glad I did. She reckons she loves him, he told her last night that he loves her, so..."

"We are talking about John? Our John?"

"I know Polls, I'm as amazed as you."

Her aunt huffed, unimpressed. "Are you okay with it though?"

"I guess, I just want them to be happy. I've told them to give me time with it."

"She was a good friend growing up, but people change, sometimes for the better, often for the worse."

"Poll, it's Y/N; she's my best friend. At the end of the day, we'd do anything for each other."

"Sweet Ada, you're going to be so miserable if you keep letting people walk all over you." Polly said wisely, kissing her goodbye affectionately. "I hope you're right. If she makes you cry again I'll kill her myself."

"Thanks, Polls."

She knew her aunt wasn't joking.

[alfredolover119]

I looooove your zukka rec lists! I recently became Avatar-obsessed, never got a chance to watch it as a kid and only just got through it all! I was wondering if you'd consider doing a specifically angst rec list? I love fluffy zukka everything, but sometimes you just gotta have your heart ripped out of your chest and put back in after being thoroughly blended.

thank you! i relate heavily to “recently became Avatar-obsessed” haha. as for the angst list, i sure can try! warning: all of these have happy endings because im a crybaby who can’t read unhappy endings. also, p much all of the fics in the completed section were featured on my other lists but this is specifically the ANGSTY ones >:^)

angsty zukka wips

first, most obviously, feels like we only go backwards by @oldpotatoe

-currently at 102k with 19/27 chapters posted; rated teen

-the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. you know. i haven’t actually read it yet because, as previously mentioned, i’m a crybaby and am waiting for it to finish up but, from my understanding, this fic will murder you in a dark alleyway with no remorse. if u like zukka angst, you’ve probably already read this, but just in case!

An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage. // But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends.

Yeah, nah.

and i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by @goldrushzukka

-currently 38k with 6/8 chapters posted; rated mature

-holy shit. holy SHIT. modern au based on the “my cat likes my fuckbuddy and i am falling in love” trope(?). maybe it’s just because of how the last chapter ended, but oh my god. this one made me cry. made me want to commit violence. when it’s not angsty as hell, it’s pretty funny, but holy shit. ao3 user nebulastucky please.

It’s supposed to be a one night stand. Pick up some guy at a bar, barely remember his name and never learn anything real about him, send him packing in the morning with a thanks for the ride and a cup of coffee to-go. That’s how it’s supposed to go. // But then it’s the best sex Sokka has ever had, and he thinks he’ll hate himself if he never gets to have it again.

Violet Blossoms and Celestial Objects by @hollypunkers

-currently 15k with 2/? posted. rated teen.

-this is the sequel to blue (an angsty, zukka rewrite of book 2-- go read it if u havent!)! !! this is a book 3 rewrite. only two chapters in and mrs hollypunkers is really abusing the miscommunication tag, as zukka writers seem to enjoy doing. im excited to see how the world and story develops with the changes to the story! you should be too!! its very good! obviously spoilers for blue lmao

Having sided with the Avatar in Ba Sing Se, Zuko not only must navigate his new relationship with Sokka but returning to the Fire Nation as a banished enemy. His own journey of self discovery and personal growth must now coexist alongside the personal struggles of every other member of the Gaang as together they blaze a treacherous path toward an unsure victory against Zuko's own father and nation.

breakable heaven by @fruitysokka

-currently 71k with 9/11 chapters posted. rated teen

-swt ambassador zuko! soon to be chief sokka! fake dating ur best friend to get out of an arranged marriage! what could go wrong!!! i also haven’t read this one ((see: i’m a crybaby who is being hurt by too many zukka wips already)), but it has been hanging out in my marked for later for months. from what i understand, this fic has: angst.

With his twenty-first birthday looming just around the corner, the Southern Water Tribe Elders have decided that Sokka, next in line to be Chief, needs to get married. Sokka does not want that, but he does need to get them off his back until he can figure his way out of it. What better way to do that than to pretend to date his best friend (and newly minted Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe) Zuko? // Seriously, this is a foolproof plan. Maybe one of Sokka's best. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

angsty zukka fics (completed!)

(i’ll put these in wc order)

lighthouse beam by @incorrectzukka

-7k, rated g

-a modern college au!! zuko’s inner-monologue is very angsty in this fic. typical zuko. also per usual, theyre both fucking dorks. they sort themselves out in the end, but not before The Angst. zuko is semi-deaf in this fic and also he has a bit of internalized homophobia.

Sokka’s breathtakingly beautiful and he’s smart and makes other people laugh. Zuko has a half-burnt face and a deaf ear. It’s not rocket science. // Or, Zuko falls in love with the boy in his Philosophy class.

This Isn’t My Idea of Fun by @khaleeseas

-9k, explicit

-moon spirit/nwt prince!sokka, no war to be found here! admittedly this isnt THAT angsty but like. the angst IS present. zuko is still the prince. a lovely childhood friends (though they hated each other for a minute haha) to lovers story. 

If you asked Zuko, he and Azula saw far too much of Chief Hakoda of the Northern Water Tribe’s children growing up. It wasn’t until they were older, and Azula pointed out that - duh - their families were trying to set them all up, that he realized why. // He was told by his mother to be polite. These people were their friends and allies, and though their nations were as different as they came, harmony between nations was the most important thing. // It wasn’t his fault the Chief’s children were so annoying.

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don’t touch) by @celestialceci

-9k, teen

-modern au! zuko and sokka are college roommates. zuko goes to spend the summer with sokka. again,, not really that angsty but-- its there!! the detail and feeling of Home in this story make me happy. zuko is insecure as hell here too. if ur into that. 

Zuko hates his home. He likes college alright, but he likes Sokka even better, his assigned roommate turned best friend. Spending the summer with Sokka will be fun, a welcome change of pace he desperately wants. It probably won't awaken anything in him... right?

the thing about dancing by anodymalion

-9k, teen

-yes. this one right here officer. it makes my heart ache. also trans sokka! which is cool. but the zuko angst in this one. hurts me. not so much relationship angst as it is zuko learning he deserves happiness angst. i’m sure u know The Type.

The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

i could (never) give you peace by @zukkababey

-10k, mature

-OUCH. OUCH OUCH OUCH. boys please learn to communicate im begging u. also zuko.. zuko, dude. as the tags of the fic say, hes “really going through it” in this one. YOUCH. post-canon.

Zuko almost said it. He almost said the words I think I’m in love with you, but he choked them back down at the last second. // Zuko would never be able to be what Sokka wanted. They might have needed each other during the summer, when two boys with too much weight on their shoulders found comfort in each other in the only way they knew how. // But now Zuko was Fire Lord, and Sokka was leaving.

this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in its time, exploding) by @meliebee 

-18k, teen, major character death 

-i lied. THIS is the one, officer. found family.. good mai and zuko and toph friendships.. . ozai escapes prison and tries to overthrow zuko. OBVIOUSLY angst ensues. poor boy. he Does heal in this but it gets worse before it gets better. angst angst angst angst.

Ten months after Zuko is crowned at seventeen, he faces his first coup.

Anything for You by beersforqueers

-23k, explicit

-istg. this is probably one of my favorite zukka fics. its PAINFUL. modern au where theyre broken up but sokka hasnt told his family yet so zuko goes home with him for kataang wedding. a bit smutty, but the plot oh my god ohgm y fuvk. made me cry the first time i read it. (see: crybaby!me) insert that one picture of the horse with the caption PAIN. 

In which Sokka and Zuko have broken up but Sokka hasn't told his family yet. So when Katara and Aang's wedding weekend rolls around and he doesn't want to break Gran-Gran's heart, he asks Zuko to pretend to be his boyfriend for one last weekend. // Things don't go as planned.

Moving Mountains by @thefangirlingdead

-64k, mature

-so. when i read this the first time it was in one sitting. soulmate au set within canon era / the comics, to an extent. soulmates can hear each others thoughts. i will happily say this is slowburn, jesus christ. champagne without the cham. 

Soulmates are chosen by the spirits and can hear each other’s thoughts. Sokka thinks it’s cheesy and dumb. Zuko thinks it’s poetic justice that he doesn’t have one because he doesn’t deserve it. Cruel irony is finding out that the prince of the Fire Nation (and the person currently hunting you) is your soulmate.

In the Soft Light by @voidcenturyscholar and @romancedawning

-83k, teen, graphic depictions of violence

-moon spirit!sokka living in the northern water tribe. zuko is sent to the northern water tribe as a cultural liaison. iroh is the fire lord but while he is away taking care of lu ten after his injury ozai steps up. i cannot express how many emotions this fic made me feel. background yuetara. i would almost say found family?? but. anyway. plenty of angst to spare here with a healthy dose of enemies to friends to lovers.

As the newly appointed cultural liaison to Northern Water Tribe, Zuko is the first Fire Nation Citizen to step foot inside the city's walls in nearly a century. He's determined to prove himself—to the Fire Lord and to his father—even if the Water Tribe's spirit-touched prince seems to want nothing to do with him.

That Midnight Sky by @zukkababey

-103k, teen

-now now now. tms... modern college au where sokka agrees to tutor zuko in physics because zuko has to maintain straight a’s and physics is just not doing it for him. so. thats cool but THEN azula moves in, randomly, with zuko. to hide the fact that sokka is tutoring zuko, they fake date! what could go wrong!! the mutual pining in here combined with the angst... wonderful, tasty. everyone read it rn. also SLOWBURN 

In Zuko’s strict family, needing a tutor is just about the worst thing you could do. Failing a class, however, is even worse. The only rational solution? Take up Aang on his offer to find him a physics tutor and have Sokka—beautiful, smart, handsome Sokka—tutor him in secret. // When Azula’s arrival threatens to reveal Zuko’s secret, it’s up to Sokka to convince her this definitely isn’t what it looks like. See, he’s actually… Zuko’s… boyfriend? // Hmm. There’s no way this could get complicated, right?

[queenshelby]

A New Life

Part Seven: The Morning After

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,735

Warning: Fluff, Smut

After having fallen asleep in Cillian’s arms and with your head rested against his chest, you woke up the following morning in a quite different position.

You were facing to the right and felt two arms wrapped around you. His warm breath fanned across the back of your neck while his warm body spooned you from behind.  

You could feel the radiant heat of Cillian’s skin pressed against you and before you opened your eyes, you reached your hand over under the covers, pulling him even closer.

With a deep breath, you stretched out your legs. They were sore, very sore. They felt like you ran a hundred miles last night and you realised that you should have taken up yoga again after arriving in Dublin.

But your legs weren’t the only part of your body that was sore. Your core was on fire, but in the best possible way. It was a mixture of pleasure and pain, burning and relief that you had so desperately sought for months. You haven’t had sex for a while and you were certainly more than just satisfied with your experience last night and, if you weren’t that sore already, you would have climbed on top of this beautiful man lying next to you right then and there.

You were still wet and your core was aching to be filled again and it was clear to you that Cillian was still aching for you as well.

As you pulled him closer, you could feel his member pressing against your lower back, so hard and warm despite the fact that he hadn’t even woken up yet.  

‘Hmm’ you eventually heard Cillian murmur from behind you as one of his hands sought out your breasts. With his eyes still closed, he ran his fingers over one of your nipples. He slowly caressed there, circling and pinching it lightly, then stroking up and down your chest and belly until, finally, his hand went down your thigh as far as he could reach, seeking out your core.

Your eyes shot open and you let out a low moan as he began to circle over your clit while he began kissing the back of your neck.

‘I am sore Cillian, there is no way…’ you huffed out and, before you could finish your sentence, he chuckled and kissed your neck again.

‘That’s fine’ Cillian whispered into your ear before telling you that he would just use his tongue instead and, just as he did, he wiggled away from you and then on top of you, planting several kisses across your breasts and stomach until he reached your core.

‘Oh god, fuck right there’ you moaned as his lips almost immediately closed around your clit. He didn’t tease you this time but, instead, went straight to work.

As he sucked on your clit, he used two of his fingers to tease your entrance, playing with it gently without penetrating it.

‘What have you been dreaming about? You are so fucking wet’ Cillian smirked, looking up at you briefly, grinning almost devilish, before continuing his assault on your clit.

‘You fucking me’ you barely managed to say, moaning loudly as you did before it hit you already, hard and fast.

With quivering legs, your orgasm ripped through you while Cillian sucked on your clit and teased your entrance.

There was no way you could have held it back and Cillian was quite satisfied with his achievement to make you cum again so quickly.

‘What a start to the morning’ you huffed out as you slowly came down from your high and Cillian simply smiled before pressing his lips onto yours.

‘You taste so fucking good, you know that?’ Cillian then said after your lips drifted apart.

‘Which reminds me Mr Murphy…I didn’t get to taste you last night?’ you said before rolling on top of Cillian.

‘I want you to come in my mouth’ you whispered as you began to plant kisses across Cillian’s chest and then down over his stomach until you reached your destination.

You could hear Cillian groan as you said this and when you took hold of his hard shaft with one of your hands, another groan escaped him.

‘So hard for me…I can’t actually believe that you woke up like this’ you said with great satisfaction as you began to stroke his cock up and down, lovingly and carefully.

‘Well, after last night, it’s hard not be aroused’ Cillian said as he watched you play with his cock and, for you, it was like being in a trance, touching him like this, so sensual.

Then, finally, you opened your mouth and leaned forward, licking over the top of his hard member and collecting the precum which had pooled there.

Your hands moved to his balls, feeling the roundness and the fullness under your touch, soft grooved skin whorled like a fingerprint. Finally, you rested your whole hand over them and left it there.

‘Fuck, that feels good’ Cillian groaned as you gently pressed your lips just over his cock before sinking down on his shaft.

Cillian’s hands knew what to do to help you and he gathered up your hair and held it out of the way as you lowered your head and take his cock into your mouth, moaning as your mouth was filled.

You drooled on him and sucked each time your head came up, slowly along every inch, then you stroked him with your mouth quickly several times on the head, and sucked just the head as your hands rolled his cock between them side to side and stroked it up and down.

You wanted to devour him since this was going to be the last time you would be intimate together. You took your time and pleasure was slowly building, pressure teased and growing. You never stopped. Kissing, licking, sucking, tonguing, stroking, nipping and licking Cillian’s inner thighs as well.

‘Fuck Y/N, this is so good’ Cillian groaned as he watched his cock disappear into your mouth.

You’ve brought him close and backed off a few times now. You could hear Cillian breathing over the sounds of your mouth sucking him, soft moans, a grunt, a whimper, soft muttered words as he breathed out the voice of his body.

‘I am close Y/N’ Cillian eventually groaned, unable to control his release any longer.

You slowly and deliberately wrapped your lips tightly on the head of his cock and took him deep into your throat, all the way to the base. Then you began to bob your head with more force and speed, determined to send him over the edge.

‘Jesus, that’s it…fuck’ you could hear Cillian swear under his breath as his face suddenly changed and his mouth contorts.

His hands tightened, no longer simply holding your long hair out of the way but gripping your head with handfuls of your hair in both hands right at the scalp.

Then you felt it, the unmistakable spurt of cum into your mouth as Cillian’s body was finally released. You tasted him and feeling the slick cream on your tongue, holding it in your mouth as you milked the last drops from his pulsing shaft. You wanted all of it.

Then, looking up, you saw Cillian’s beautiful sexy smile and flushed cheeks. You opened your mouth and showed him the cum pooled on your tongue.

‘Fuck’ he barely managed to groan as you tilted your head back to hold it, but still some dripped from your lips.

Then you smiled wickedly and very deliberately closed your lips and swallowed.

‘Now that was fucking hot’ Cillian observed, making you giggled before you wiped the corners of your mouth.

‘And tasty’ you winked before scooting up onto your knees playfully.

‘Coffee?’ you then asked and Cillian nodded.

‘How about I go and get the coffees and some croissants from the café across the road and you have a shower. You’ve got, uhm,… something… in your hair which you probably want to wash out’ he then said with some slight embarrassment before you both broke out in laughter.

‘Sounds good’ you said before quickly disappearing into the bathroom.

***

Just after you stepped out of the shower, you heard the doorbell ring and, whilst you reminded Cillian to take a key, you thought that he probably forgot.

Without listening through the intercom, you opened the door and, when you opened the door to your apartment, you were surprised to see Max and Cian.

‘Morning Sis’ Cian said just as Max ran in to give you a hug.

‘Uhm, thanks for dropping him back. I was going to pick him up in an hour’ you said surprised.

‘It’s alright. It’s raining so Evelyn suggested I drop him off before I am heading to the gym. Saves you getting public transport in this weather’ Cian said and, just as Cian sat down in the kitchen, asking you for a cup of coffee, your apartment door opened again and Cillian walked inside.

‘Hey man’ Cian said surprised as he saw Cillian walk through the door with coffee and croissants and your heart skipped a beat almost immediately.

‘Hey’ Cillian responded, unsure what else to say and you couldn’t help but look at Cillian and shrug your shoulders.

‘So, I’ve heard you bailed on theatre last night’ Cian said, grinning, before telling you that Laura had called Evelyn and told her about it.

‘Yes, we did. We watched a movie instead and, after a bit too much wine, I stayed here and slept on the lounge which, I must say, was not very comfortable’ Cillian said without blinking an eye. Luckily, he was an actor and the way he said it was very believable.

‘What did you watch?’ Cian asked, grabbing one of the coffees Cillian had bought and, after Cillian told him what movie you had seen, Cian began to ask about it.

The truth was, you saw no more than five minutes of this movie and it was difficult to give Cian a review.

‘Man, I don’t want to give anything away. You just have to watch it. You know I hate spoilers’ Cillian said quickly before Max came running into the kitchen to greet Cillian and steal one of the croissants.

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[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter One / Americano

Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Working a dull December morning shift, you meet a seemingly disgraced DEA agent by the name of Javier Peña.

Warnings: Language, talk of death and canon-typical Narcos violence

W/C: 2.3k

A/N: YOU GUYS i am so excited to share this story with you all!! i fuckin love Javi and coffee so this features my two favorite things! big thanks as always to my beta readers for helping me out- especially with chapter 2 (which i was stuck on for 3 weeks lol). I hope you guys enjoy! this story has some twists I don’t think y’all are gonna see coming ;) I’m planning to update this fic once a week! I just wanted to get chapter one out there :)

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Americano: espresso and hot water; has a similar taste to a brewed coffee, but still darker and more caffeinated thanks to the espresso. 

Work is blissfully slow on weekdays, allowing you to putz along at your own speed. Today, however, is boring as hell. You’d had approximately seven customers since the morning rush, meaning about seven drinks to make. There weren’t even tables to clean, no customers having sat in the cozy coffeeshop. You and your coworker had joked around, swept and mopped, and cleaned the espresso machines twice each. 

At this point, with nothing else to do, you sipped your third peppermint mocha while perched atop two stacked milk crates, leafing through your worn copy of The Great Gatsby. It was a common occurrence when evening rolled around, but rarely so early in the day. Since you were the one on barista duty, Mandy kept watch for customers and allowed you to relax with your book. It was routine for the two of you. She mindlessly fusses with the product wall and the coffee grinder, cleaning everything for the third time.

The door opens and you pop up from your makeshift chair excitedly. The weather is blustery and cold, with heavy snowflakes starting to fall outside the large windows, and the man who enters is pulling his jacket tight around himself. He looks up and you quickly dodge behind the espresso machines before you can make eye contact. It’s instinctual, and you’re unsure why until your brain reminds you of the man’s face. He’s handsome, even though you got maybe a second’s look at him. Dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed mustache, eyes an even darker shade to complement his tanned skin. 

You bite your lip and grab a large ceramic mug, bringing it to the espresso machine. No one would be crazy enough to order a cold drink in this weather. Mandy takes his order and a few seconds later, his receipt pops up through the printer at your end of the shop:

Ticket 114 - 12/3/93

Name: Javier

LG-Redeye

!memo: darkroast

Javier. The name suits the man, you think to yourself and smile as you begin prepping the espresso for his drink. As you walk to Mandy’s station to fill the mug with drip coffee, she smiles and nudges your side. “Isn’t he cute?” She murmurs. You look at the printed ticket then at the coffee warmers: there’s no dark roast. 

“Very,” you giggle a little and fill the mug with light instead. He’s seated in the corner. “I call dibs,” you tease, and Mandy shakes his head. She’s married, but she knows your type, and it’s exactly the man sitting there, staring at a newspaper.

“Yeah, okay,” she shakes her head but smiles at you. “No wedding ring either. I think you should bring his drink to him instead of calling out the order.”

Staring down at the filling mug, you shake your head. “We’ll see,” you chuckle softly and return down to your end of the bar, pouring the two shots of espresso. “Javier?” You call in your barista voice, and the man lifts his head and walks to the bar.

“That’s me,” he says, a small begrudging smile on his face.

“Hi,” you chuckle and hold up the mug. “We’re out of dark roast right now, so I had to use light. Could I put some flavoring or cream or sugar in there for you?” You offer. “Otherwise, I can most definitely make you something else. An americano maybe?”

He pauses for a second. “Yeah, an americano would be great,” he nods. “What kind of flavors… are there?” he asks. 

“Oh, we have a ton,” you say enthusiastically, grabbing the syrup rack and pulling it your way. “Any of these. Hazelnut, vanilla, raspberry,” you smile, rattling off the flavors, “otherwise we also have caramel and any flavor of chocolate.”

Javier raises an eyebrow as he looks at the small display. “Never been somewhere with so many options. Could I do dark chocolate and cream?” He asks, and you nod.

“Of course,” you tell him, dumping the previous mug and grabbing another. “I’ll have that right up for you. You can head back to where you were sitting,” you inform him.

He shakes his head. “I can wait here. Save us both a trip.”

You nod. “Sure,” you say with a smile, prepping more espresso. “The redeye and americano are pretty different in caffeine though, the americano is going to have more since there’s more espresso.”

“I just need as much caffeine as I can get. Tough day ahead,” he nods. 

“I’ve been told bartenders and baristas are wonderful ears to listen,” you offer, a sweet smile on your face.

His guard has fallen like a wrecking ball through a house of cards at the way you smile. “Well, I’m with the DEA.” It feels strange, openly admitting that around here. Colombians weren’t exactly welcoming to American agents, but it felt like citizens around here saw them as some kind of superhero. 

Your eyes light. “Shouldn’t it be a fantastic day for you then?” you ask. “I mean, it’s all over the news. Escobar. Do you know the guys in the photo?” You ask with excitement in your voice.

He nods. Escobar was killed yesterday, and it’s all over the news, including the paper back at his table. “Yeah. The blonde guy in the red shirt is actually my work partner. It’s a tough day because I didn’t get to be there when it happened. I’ve been down in Colombia for years now, and they catch Escobar two days after I leave.”

The smile on your face turns to a frown. “That’s… awful,” you nod, eyes full of sadness for him. “I’m so sorry. At least it must be nice to be home?” you ask, tilting your head slightly and pouring the espresso shots into the mug.

He shakes his head. “D.C. isn’t home. I’m from Texas,” he admits, and the way he speaks finally registers as a slightly slowed speech pattern from the area. “I’m happy for Steve though. The blonde one, my partner. He deserves it. We’ve been down there for… Jesus,” he sighs and looks at the ceiling as he counts the years, “well, a while now. Couple of years. I fucked up, bad. Honestly, I think I’m up here to get fired.” 

You frown slightly as you pump the chocolate into the hot espresso and water, swirling it around with a spoon. “You worked on Escobar for years?” you ask, and Javier nods. “Well, then I personally doubt you’d be getting fired. You guys just caught him, everyone must be in a good mood. I guess it depends on how bad you fucked up,” you shrug as you tap the spoon into the sink and bend down to grab the cream.

“I… do you know who Los Pepes are?” he asks. You shake your head as you stand, pouring some cream into the steaming drink. “Well, they’re a radical group who did some crazy shit to try to weaken Escobar, and I got involved with them. I have a meeting today with the review board.”

You finally make eye contact with him, wincing for him. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound great,” you admit with a chuckle, putting the cream back in the little refrigerator beneath you. 

“It’s not.”

“It’s not necessarily why you got called up here,” you shrug and grab a saucer, putting the mug on top of it and on the bar for him to take.

“Well, I don’t know, I suppose,” he agrees and takes the drink from you.

You shrug. “Best of luck, Javier,” you tell him with a genuine smile of encouragement.

He nods, looking at your name tag attached to your apron. He murmurs your name before looking back up at your face and into your eyes. “Thank you.” He takes his drink and returns to his table, and you sigh and return to your makeshift chair in the corner. 

Mandy pulls up two crates next to you, sitting down across from you with gleaming eyes. “Did it go well? You two talked for a while,” she asks, raising her eyebrows and encouraging you to tell her more.

“A little, but just… how I would with anyone, I guess,” you shrug as you sip your mocha for a moment, drinking the last of the warm coffee. “Not like I got his number or anything.”

“He’s sitting down to drink his coffee. Go offer him a refill when he’s done.”

“That would require me to stare at him, Mandy, and I think he’d notice that,” you shake your head as you stand to make yourself a new drink. 

She stands with you, pushing the crates out of the way. “I’ll keep an eye on him for you. I’ll signal to you when he’s done or getting low on coffee, and you can bring him a refill. How does that sound?” she asks you.

You nod with a sigh. “Since you’re apparently not going to let this go, fine. I will.” 

Mandy claps her hands together excitedly. “Yay!” She sings. “Oh, will you make me a drink while you’re at it? I’ll have a-”

“Skim hazelnut latte with no foam and light whip,” you recite before she can finish her order.

“You’re a babe,” she sings and heads over to clean the tables that haven’t even been touched since she wiped them an hour ago. 

You make her drink and set it aside, then work on your own, fourth coffee. The peppermint and the coffee swirl together deliciously in the air, fitting the weather and the time of year. It’s December, and the snow outside and the warm feeling from the man across the coffee shop contrast in your heart. You sneak glances at him a couple of times, biting your lip to hold back a smile as you admire the handsome face peeking above the newspaper he reads. 

About ten minutes later, you look up from cleaning the machines to see Mandy tucked behind a wall where he can’t see her. She’s frantically waving at you, pointing towards Javier once she catches your attention. Go, she mouths excitedly, beaming at you. 

You wipe your hands on your apron and walk to where she stands. “Fine, I will, but you’re making the drinks if anyone else comes in.”

“Oh no, how will I handle it?” She asks in a deadpan, eyeing the shop that’s empty except for the two of you and Javier. “Go,” she says, giving you a light shove and giggling.

You shake your head but walk over, placing a hand lightly on the table. “Coffee’s looking low. Could I get you a refill?” you offer.

Javier looks up at you, and you feel like turning to jelly as you look into his big brown eyes, filled with confusion but also admiration. He furrows his brow, creating small creases between his eyebrows. “Uh… sure. How much is it?” he asks, reaching for his wallet and setting down the newspaper.

You put a hand on his arm, giving a gentle smile. “You need it. It’s on the shop,” you tell him.

“No, seriously, what, like $5?” he asks, but you put a hand over his. 

“No, Javier,” you chuckle lightly. “Don’t worry about it. Another americano with chocolate and cream?” you ask.

“Uh… make me whatever you like best. And bring one for yourself too.” He says, well, really asks, nodding to the empty chair across from him. “It’s not too busy to talk, is it?”

You swallow hard before you break into a grin. “No, not at all. Uh… do you like peppermint?” you ask. 

“Peppermint is good,” he says, giving you a small smile.

“Perfect,” you smile softly at him, picking up his empty mug and saucer. “We have a peppermint mocha, it’s seasonal. It’s my favorite, I’ll be right back with them,” you say, giggling softly and biting your lip as you turn and walk back to the bar. 

You’re hidden behind the espresso machines as you finally grin and giggle, and Mandy rushes to your side. “Oh my God,” she laughs happily. “He’s so hot. What were you guys talking about?”

“He asked me to sit with him,” you giggle excitedly, preparing four espresso shots. 

She nearly squeals with excitement, grabbing your arm closest to her. You scoop some chocolate chips and pour milk into a pitcher, putting it under the steam wand. “Holy shit. What has he told you so far? What’s his story?”

“Well, he said he’s a DEA agent. He’s on leave from work right now, but the guy in the red shirt in that picture of Escobar after they killed him? That’s his partner,” you tell her, letting the excitement speed your words up. “He’s been in Colombia for a couple of years working on it. Isn’t that cool?” You laugh. 

“So cool,” she nods in agreement. “And he’s so fucking cute. Girl, you need to get your ass back there before I steal him myself.”

You laugh as you pour the shots and then the steamed milk into the mugs. “I’m trying, but you holding onto one of my arms is holding me back, love,” you tease her and she breaks away. You top both mugs with a perfectly peaked whipped cream layer, then sprinkle candy cane pieces and chocolate chips on top. “Wish me luck,” you practically sing as you walk back with a mug for each of you.

Javier’s holding back a grin himself as you make the drinks. He can see your head bobbing along behind the bar, the other woman chatting with you. He’s more transfixed than you than he should allow himself to be, but all fears fade as he sees you approaching with a grin and two large, whipped cream-topped drinks.

You set the drink down in front of him and he smiles at you. “Wow. This…” he looks down at it and smiles a little. “Well, it looks sweet.”

“I have a sweet tooth,” you admit with a soft laugh and sit down, taking a sip and sighing softly. “It tastes like winter. I love it.” He nods and takes a sip too. It’s sweet, but not as bad as he expected. “I added extra espresso to yours,” you tell him, a shy smile on your face. 

“A woman after my own heart,” he chuckles and sets it down, licking the foam off of his mustache. 

You smile a little wider at that and hold back a laugh. “Did you want to talk about the meeting?” you ask him, tilting your head, your expression softening.

Javier’s already falling, and he curses himself as he looks at you. Not a thought except him. He’s already thinking of a sly way to get your number. “No, not really. I just spilled basically my entire life story to you.”

“Then you’ve had a very short and boring life. That was hardly anything. I’ve had customers come in and cry over divorces or lost family members; the whole job situation was mild,” you chuckle and admit, tracing the rim of the mug with your fingertips and staring down at the steaming drink.

“Really? You seem like a therapist and a barista in one,” he teases lightly.

“Well, I did just graduate with a Masters in psychology,” you shrug. “I just graduated with it from Georgetown. That’s why I’m here,” you tell him and look up. “Working here part-time while I decide what I want to do.”

“No shit. I did my undergrad in psych and sociology,” Javier says with a small smile, making your smile grow too. “Texas A&M though. Nothing as prestigious as Georgetown.”

“A&M isn’t anything to sneeze at,” you chuckle as you look over at him. His eyes are deep-set, deeper than they probably normally are. They’re bloodshot and hold bags beneath them. After a breath, you bite your lip and look him in the eye. “You look tired. I don’t know you normally, I understand. Maybe you shouldn’t finish this,” you tell him with a concerned smile, scooting his mug towards you. “Too much caffeine.”

“No, I need it, please,” he says, tugging it back and sipping at it again. “Just… until after this meeting. Then I’ll know what my future holds, then I can rest.”

“What time is it at?”

“5:00.”

There’s a beat of silence. “I don’t have any plans tonight,” you say gently, looking at him with a question in your eyes. “Would you like to get dinner? Talk things out, once you know what your future holds?” You offer, a soft smile and hopeful eyes. “I already know enough about you. This could be practice therapy for me,” you tease softly.

Javier thinks for a second, though he knows what the answer will be. At least pretends to think, surprised that you could hear all he had said about Los Pepes and working in Colombia and that you still offered. “I’d like that,” he nods, his voice soft when he looks at you. “I don’t know the area well. You’ll have to tell me where.”

“Do you have a car up here?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. “I can pick you up,” you offer. “Where are you staying?”

He grabs a napkin and pats his pockets for a pen. You hand him the paint pen tucked on your apron and he quickly thanks you before writing down the address to the hotel. You take the napkin and the pen and grab another napkin. “And this…” you say and write down your phone number, sliding it to him, “is where you’ll call me when you’re ready for me to come get you. Okay?” You ask.

Your voice is so soothing, Javier thinks. More than sleep or reassurance or even a hit of Escobar’s private stash or really anything could be to him right now, it’s a comfort. You must be a miracle, he thinks, some kind of blessing for something he isn’t quite sure of, but he must have done something right in the eyes of the Almighty to be here, right now, talking with you. “You know, I was raised Catholic,” he tells you and leans in a little. “I don’t know that I am anymore. But still… I think you might be an angel in disguise.”

Biting your lip, you giggle and look down. “I don’t know about that,” you chuckle as you look up at him again. “Just… right place, right time, maybe. I’ll see you tonight, okay?” you ask him, placing your hand over his and standing.

Javier nods as he looks up at you. “How should I dress?” he asks and tilts his head. His eyes are so expressive, you notice and smile a bit. They betray exactly what he’s thinking.

“Um… what you’re wearing now would be fine. A button down and jeans would work,” you tell him with a nod, patting his hand and picking up your mug. “I’ll see you then. Good luck,” you tell him with a sweet smile and retreat to the back. Javier can’t say anything in return, just sips his peppermint mocha.

Three minutes later, you return with a muffin. “Eat this. You can’t have all that caffeine and no food.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles and looks down at it. You’re gone when he looks back up, and he breaks off a piece. What a weird day. It’s only about to get weirder.

-

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[anothers-trash-my-treasure]

Take It Out On Me

Happy Smutty Saturday! I seem to like writing things revolving around the pandemic lmaoo I'm sorry, I don't want to make that a habit. This is escapism, after all. Anyways, request from god knows how long ago about angry fucking with our fav gremlin boi

Pairing: Merriell Shelton / Reader (Female)

Warnings: 18+. There's some angst, some words exchanged in anger but nothing too crazy. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls don't be dumb) Rough sex, dirty talking, hints of BDSM if you squint, praise kink if you squint.

Word Count: 3K

Tag List: @edteche2 @xmxisxforxmaybe @diasimar @txmel @gloriousdarkangelsworld @paradoxicaltornado @404-not-found-xix

Enjoy!

When the pandemic started, things weren’t so bad. Your job allowed you to simply work from your laptop, you had turned the second bedroom/storage room into a makeshift office and it worked just fine. Merriell, on the other hand, was not so lucky. He had been laid off, and, at first, was incredibly stressed about it. Thankfully though, you made enough money to cover the rent and the government came through with some financial aid that helped Mer pay for the bills. You’d be okay.

In fact, once the financial stresses were taken care of, it was actually kind of nice. You two hadn’t lived together long, but long enough that you had noticed your schedule differences and long enough to know you had missed each other. Gone were the late nights at the shop that left you lonely and missing his touch. Quite the contrary, during the first few months, you had fucked like rabbits. He had taken you in every room of the house like you were christening the damn thing all over again. The kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, hell, he even had you in your ‘office’ at one point. It was fun, being together all the time.

Until it wasn’t.

Eventually, being cooped up in the same goddamn space all the damn time got to both of you. And you loved him dearly but god he was so fucking annoying sometimes. Usually, you could avoid creating tension either by slinking away to your office for a bit or politely asking him to take a walk. But the office door had been a lost cause ever since he fucked you up against it so hard it came right off its hinges and it was raining outside, so he couldn’t leave. You were stuck.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad, but the little things that usually didn’t matter had gone unchecked and undiscussed and were beginning to bite at your skin in a way you couldn’t ignore. For you, it had started when you went to the bathroom in the morning, only to discover he had left the toilet seat up and you fell right through. For him it had started when you unconsciously kicked him awake at 6 in the morning on a Saturday. And from there it spiraled. By the time you were ready for coffee, he had drunk the whole pot.

“Thanks for leaving me some.” you had grumbled, and maybe you meant it in good fun, but your sleepy attitude struck a chord, and you knew that because it was met with silence.

So maybe that’s why you didn’t ask him if he wanted some of the eggs you were making for breakfast. And maybe that’s why he decided the be extra loud when he finally made his own breakfast. Pots and pans clanging as he threw them in the sinks, cupboard doors slamming shut and using his fork just a little too violently in a way that set your whole being on edge.

By the end of the day, you had snapped at each other a few times and the tension was so thick that you could barely stand just being next to him. You hated that you were feeling this way, that these stupid lockdowns were driving you away from each other when all you wanted was the opposite. But you couldn’t let go of your anger and annoyance, and it bled through your veins, poisoning any conflict resolution that threatened to act as an antidote to your frustrations.

The last straw came at dinner. He had asked you what you wanted to eat and just the question had you gritting your teeth. So you had replied, telling him that he could make whatever he wanted. That, apparently, was the wrong answer.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he snarled, slamming his hand down onto the kitchen island, “Can you please jus' tell me what the fuck you want?!”

You had done nothing more than glance his way and roll your eyes, not getting a chance to respond before he was launching into a tangent.

“Seriously, what the fuck do ya think I am? Some kinda mind reader?” He asks, one hand gesturing wildly while the other keeps the counter in a white-knuckled grip, “Ya been in this fuckin’ mood all goddamn day and Darlin, I gotta say, ‘m fuckin’ sick of it.”

You bark out a sharp, bitter laugh, “Oh, you’re sick of it?” You stand up from the couch, walking behind it so you can get closer to him, “Like you haven’t been intentionally pissing me off all fucking day.”

His jaw pushes out in annoyance, both hands now gripping the countertop, “I promise you,” and you gotta give the guy credit for trying to regain some composure, “whateva’ I did to make you this goddamn bitchy was not intentional.”

“Oh, so I’m a bitch now?” You counter, folding your arms over your chest.

His eyes close and his chin tucks into his chest, recognizing his mistake but unwilling to apologize for it, “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Tell me.” you insist, stepping closer to him, “Tell me what a bitch I’ve been. Blame all your problems on me. Because that’s just easier, isn’t it?”

It’s not true. You know. He knows it. But right now, all you can focus on is the anger that’s been boiling in the pit of your stomach.

“Y’know what? Maybe this-” he cuts himself off, but his quick gesture between the two of you finishes the rest of his sentence for him. Silence fills the kitchen and now there’s salt added to the wound. Hurt swirls with your anger and you can’t stop yourself from talking even if you tried.

“No, say it.” you encourage bitterly, crossing the line into the kitchen, “Tell me how moving in together was a mistake. Tell me how you can’t fucking stand living with me. Tell me how I’m so bitchy and how sick you are of my shit. Tell me-”

Before you can finish antagonizing him, he’s got you pushed up against the wall, his hands braced on either side of your head. He’s so close to you, you can feel his breath, angry and panting on your skin. You look into his eyes, seeing them hard and cold with his anger but something else lying behind them.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, and before you can even begin to be angry about it his lips are on yours and you can’t breathe.

His anger is very apparent, even as he kisses you. It’s rough, bruising, but it’s an outlet for all the negative feelings you’ve been experiencing so you kiss him back just as hard. You reach for him, unsure if you’re working to pull him closer and push him away. It doesn’t really matter though because he doesn’t let you touch him for long. Within seconds both your wrists are taken in one hand and pinned above your head. You fight against his hold, despite knowing it’s futile. In retaliation you bite down hard on his lip, feeling only a little satisfied when he pulls away in shock, his free hand coming up to check for blood. There's not.

You meet his eyes with a defiant smirk. He wants to play dirty? Fine. You can play that way too.

He steps away and for a second you think he’s actually going to walk away. But then-

“Get your ass to the bedroom.”

You almost laugh. If he thinks you’re, in any way, going to be compliant tonight, he’s sadly mistaken. Instead, you cross your arms, falling back to lean against the wall, your eyes never leaving his. He chuckles, an angry smirk crossing his features. He looks away, shaking his head, tongue poking against the side of his cheek in complete disbelief. Before you can think of your next move he’s got you thrown over his shoulder, marching the both of you down the hallway to your shared bedroom. You squirm, trying to push yourself to an angle that would let you fight his grip but it’s no use. By the time you work his hold free, he’s already dropping you on the bed. Although dropping may not be the right word, he all but slams you down, leaving you momentarily breathless.

Even then, he moves quickly. His hands move to his belt, quickly working the clasp back and off so he can slide his jeans off. Despite your anger, you feel heat pool between your legs when the fabric drops to reveal bare skin. It’s nothing new for Merriell, but it never fails to do something to you. He knows it too, a cocky smile gracing his face as he sheds his shirt too. He only lets you look for a second before he’s quickly flipping you onto your stomach. He forces you up onto your knees, hand finding the back of your neck to keep you where he wants you as he climbs onto the mattress behind you.

You put up a bit of a fight, although you’re becoming less and less focused on your anger and frustration and more focused on the feeling on his cock pressing against the back of your jean-clad thigh.

“Always seem to forget how fucking stubborn you are.” He growls into your ear, pressing himself against the line of you body while his free hand starts to unbutton and work off your pants, “Hard headed and difficult.” he continues, biting roughly on your earlobe just to here your intake of breathe and to feel you struggle against his hold, “A fucking brat.” He punctuates the last words by tugging both your jeans and panties down around your thighs roughly. You hiss at the forcefulness of the action, feeling the burn of the fabric against your skin contrasting with cool air against your bare pussy.

You’re completely at his mercy.

His presence is dominating, even though you can’t see him, his hands, one pressing on your neck to keep you still and the other caressing the swell of your ass, let you know exactly who's in charge. You don’t struggle, both of you knowing how much you want him, but you still hold an air of defiance. Your face is turned so you can breathe, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him. He tries to draw you out, teasing you by dragging his cock against your wetness. He alternates between taking the tip and rubbing it between your folds and fucking the space between your thighs. He knows what it does to you, can see the way you fight the urge to beg by pressing your lips together.

But you don’t fold.

“C’mon baby,” he taunts, venom laced in his words, “I know you want it.” As he talks the hand on your neck slides up into your hair, “Know you want that attitude fucked outta ya,” He tugs your hair roughly, pulling a gasp from your lips and forcing you to look back at him, “All ya gotta do is ask.”

You breathe heavily for a second, eyes locked with his, “Go fuck yourself.”

He growls, shoving your head back down into the mattress and thrusting into you roughly. Your back arches, eyes rolling back in your head as he begins to fuck you, not allowing you even a second to catch your breath. The second he sees bliss cross your features, he’s insufferable.

He laughs against a moan, “Feisty,” he comments, “but the second my dick’s in ya, you’re putty in my hands.”

You’re desperate to prove him wrong. You force your eyes open, locking them with his and pushing back against his thrusts, the headboard already banging against the wall with the force of both your movements.

“Feel’s good doesn’t it?” He asks, free hand coming down on your ass with a sharp smack.

“I’ve had better.” Your voice bounces with each thrust, but you’re determined to keep your composure, despite the pleasure that makes your toes curl.

Another growl rumbles through his chest and he lays another harsh smack to your rear, just to see your body react, “Liar,” he hisses, fingers digging into your skin.

His angle changes ever so slightly so that his cock now drags against your sweet spot with every movement and you can’t force your moan back. His eyes light up, laughing delightedly at the sound, “Had betta’ my ass.” he comments, leaning down to bite roughly on your shoulder, effectively leaving marks all across them, “Ya jus’ can’t help ya’self. You love it. Love the feeling of my cock in you.”

“Who says I’m thinking of you?” You shoot back.

You know it’s not true. Merriell was unlike any lover you had before, you were hopelessly and utterly ruined for anyone else. But that didn’t matter. The comment, however untruthful, hits his possessive streak just like you knew it would. He pulls out of you, flipping you onto your back and nearly ripping the remaining fabric off your body before resuming his brutal pace, this time using your wrists on either side of your head to hold you down. In this position he can ensure that you’re looking at him, leaving no doubt in either of your minds that it’s him that makes you feel like this. Only him.

“Such a fucking brat,” he growls, leaving bite marks all along your skin. By the time you’re done, there won’t be a part of your body that’s not marked by him.

He stops talking for a second, focusing instead on giving you the fucking of your life. He’d never fucked you like this. He’d been possessive, sweet, caring, loving, jealous. But never angry. Not like this. Every ounce of frustration and anger he’d felt was redirected to his hips, the air tense with the hurtful words you’d both said earlier.

“C’mon,” you taunt when he slows for a second, lips turned up in a sneer even as you pant, breathless, “That all you got?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarls, hoisting your legs up onto his shoulders, releasing your hands so he can move one to your throat, pressing you into the bed that way instead. It’s hard for you to breathe that way, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. And if you thought he was fucking you hard before, it’s nothing compared to the way he’s fucking you now.

The new angle allows him to trust deeper into you and your stubborn resolve begins to fade a little. Your hands scramble to latch onto his forearm that holds you down, not trying to push him away but just searching for purchase, for support somewhere you’ve always found it. He’s not faring much better, head rolling back onto his shoulders with a groan as he fucks you. You’re both quickly abandoning your anger in favor of the pleasure that you provide each other.

“Merriell,” you mewl, a peace offering without even realizing it.

His head snaps back to look down at you, eyes sparkling at the sound of your name on his lips for the first time tonight, “There she is,” he pants, leaning down to kiss you, open-mouthed and filthy. It’s still harsh, but the anger behind his motions is nearly gone, “My good girl, huh?”

You don’t even need to nod, to voice your confirmation. It’s not even really a question. You both know you’d come to an unspoken agreement.

“Fuck, baby girl.” he moans against your mouth, slowing his trusts just enough so he can really make you feel the drag of his cock inside you, “Oh, you feel so good.”

You love it when he gets like this. When all he can do is fuck into you and voice his pleasure. It’s a sure sign of surrender.

“Yes,” you gasp, back arching up against his as you feel your pleasure begin to reach its peak, “Merriell, I’m close.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, nodding in agreement, “C’mon, baby I gotcha. Let go for me.”

Your eyes lock with his the second you feel yourself slip over the edge. You see the way his eyes watch you, full of love that he had hidden behind his anger earlier. Your nails dig into his arm and your eyes roll back, unable to help yourself as pleasure courses through your whole body. You think that maybe you're shaking, but you’re completely detached from your conscious, knowing only the bliss he’s brought you.

Your senses come back to you just in time to feel him finish inside of you. His head buries into your neck, muffling his moans against your skin. The hand that had previously held you down now cups the back of your neck, the other gripping the back of your thigh with a grip so tight, you’re sure you’ll wear his fingerprints for a week.

He collapses against you, staying buried in your heat but pulling back enough so he can kiss you passionately. You kiss him back, hands tangling in his hair as your emotions begin to rise. When he pulls back your eyes are wet with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, rubbing your noses together.

He nods, rubbing your noses together affectionately, “Me too,” he says, just as quiet, “Don’t leave.”

It’s a rare moment of sheer vulnerability, much needed after the heightened tensions throughout the past few days. You both knew, on some levels that the words shared earlier were spoken only out of frustration. But there was always that glimmer of doubt that you both felt. For him, it was always that you could find someone better. And for you, it was always the possibility of him growing sick of you.

You shake your head, kissing his softly, lovingly, “Never.”

After a few more moments of holding each other, he pulls out of you but doesn't move much further. He pulls you tight against his chest, kissing the top of your forehead. You bask in the silence for a handful of moments, just listening to each other breathe, finally feeling the tension between the two of you dissipate.

“Next time, can you just please put the seat down?” You murmur against his chest, a teasing tone to your voice.

He barks out a laugh and you grin against his skin at the sound.

Everything was going to be okay.

[supernaturalgirl20]

All’s Fair in Love and War!

Part two

Pairings: Mob!boss Din Djarin x reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, p in v smut, angst, small pieces of fluff, violence, cursing.

Summary: Din is the Mand’alor, head of the mandalorian mafia. He is a cruel man, shoots without hesitation, kills without remorse and fucks whoever he wants. Is he really as they say, or can you tame the beast?!

*comments and reblogs appreciated*

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Unsure of what was happening you quickly wrap a towel around yourself and move into the bedroom. You find him sitting on the bed, naked. Does this man have no shame! Even though he had just fucked you, you didn’t know where to look. He senses your nerves and beckons you towards him. He stands tall towering over you, his hand moves to where your hand is on the towel, loosening your grip. In one swift motion the towel falls to the floor. You don’t meet his eyes. He tilts your chin upwards, so your looking him in the eyes. The way he’s looking at you, it’s sending a warmth through you.

“Your beautiful.”

He moves your damp hair off your shoulders, slowly moving his fingers down and across your breasts. He pinches your nipple watching it harden under his touch. He moves his hand behind your head, gently pulling you to him until your lips meet in a searing kiss. The feel of his plump lips, the taste of him has you weak. He begins moving you backward towards the bed. When your knees hit the edge he gently lays you down and crawls up your body, kissing every inch as he goes. Pushing your head back into the mattress, you can’t help but wonder why he’s being like this. So slow, so gentle, not like the stories you’ve heard, certainly not like before in the shower. His body covers yours completely and staring into your eyes, he lines himself at your core. With one thrust, he fills you completely.

His movements are slower, and you can feel every ridge on his cock as it moves in and out of you. He sucks on your nipples and you let out a loud moan.

“That’s it baby, let it out, I got you.”

“Yes…..Jesus fuck…”

“So tight…..so….perfect…..you’re made for…me Mesh’la.”

He grabs your leg and wraps it around his hip, thrusting harder into you. You feel euphoric, skin tingling with pleasure.

“Look at me. I want you to look at me when you come.”

“Oh god…..yes…..mand’alor.”

“Call me Mando.”

With that you come hard. Your pussy clenches his cock, sending him over the edge. He quickly pulls out and paints your breasts in his seed. He climbs off of you and goes to get a washcloth. He gently cleans his mess off you. You find yourself unsure again of what to do, so you go to put back on some clothes.

“You can stay. Come lie down, get some rest.”

You nod and walk slowly back to the bed. He lifts the covers for you and once your under them he pulls you to him. Wrapping an arm around you he whispers “goodnight Mesh’la.”

“Goodnight Mando.”

****

When morning came you woke alone. You weren’t surprised, you expected it really. That’s what your father traded your for. Keep the mand’alor sexually satisfied in exchange for a higher cut from the drugs they sold. Why were you born into that family, you want more from your life than to be a sex toy. You want a job, a husband who loves you and a family. Things you’ll never have.

Getting up you notice a note on your beside table.

I had a business meeting first thing. I will be back soon. Make yourself at home.

Mando

Very to the point. I suppose that’s a good thing, you won’t have to second guess him. You dress in a black lace robe and fix your hair. Suddenly there’s a knock at the door.

“Yes?”

It slowly open to reveal a short old man, “Ms. Y/N, the mand’alor has had breakfast prepared for you, if you would like to follow me please.”

“Of course.”

The walk to breakfast is silent and you take in the house as you go. Wow!

“Indeed Ms. It is a fine house fit for a king.”

“Oh..I didn’t realise I said that out loud.”

“It’s no bother Ms.”

“You can just call me Y/N.”

“If you wish and my name is Quill.”

“Lovely to meet you. Have you work here long.”

“Oh yes, quite a few years now, the mand’alor is a very kind man. Treats everyone that works for him with respect.”

“Oh, that’s not what people say about him.”

“Ah yes well he has a reputation to keep. Can’t be the head of a Mafia family if your soft.”

“Of course.”

“Here we are, you will be left alone, but security will be outside the door.”

With that he was gone. Your eyes were wide like saucers as you took in the table covered in delicious food. Sitting down with some french toast and fruit you try to process the last day and a half.

There is a commotion outside the door and suddenly it’s flung open and a beautiful women storms in.

“So your the new plaything. Hmm, your not very pretty are you?”

“I….”

“That wasn’t a question. He’ll get bored of you soon enough, he always does. Once we’re married I’ll put a stop to all this.”

“Your getting married? To Mando?” Your teasing her now and it’s working, you can see the anger on her face.

“Of course to the Mand’alor. What you thought he’s marry someone like you, ha.”

“I have no intention of marry him. I am here because my father traded me. Nothing more.”

Towering over you pointing a finger directly in your face, “see that it stays that way.”

“Enough Omera!”

“Mando, baby I was just..”

“Get out! Now.”

She scurries out the door and he turns to look at you. You feel small under his gaze. He comes o stand beside you, he reaches for your face and tilts your chin upwards. He looks at you with those brown eyes like he’s seeing into your soul.

“Your very beautiful, don’t listen to her, she is just jealous.”

“Why do you need me if she is your fiancé?”

“She isn’t. I am being pressured into taking a wife, my family believes it will solidify my position.

“What do you believe?”

“I know I seem heartless, and I suppose I am most of the time, I have to be, but what I really want, is out of this life, to marry for love not necessity.”

“I suppose that’s fair. Why don’t you just leave so? You are the mand’alor, you have the power.”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you.”

He bends down and places a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Come, you need to be dressed properly, I do not my men distracted by your beauty.”

You take his hand and he guides out of the dining room, he places his hand on your lower back as you both walk through the halls. Suddenly a little boy comes running out of no where and jumps at Mando.

“Ad’ika I’ve missed you.” You look at them, shock written all over your face. Mando looks at you,

“Y/N, I’d like you to meet my son Grogu.”

Previous/Next

Tagging:

Everything: @lunaserenade @day-off-inkyoto @anaaaispunk @seasonschange-butpeopledont @librariantothejedi @elinedjarin @maievdenoir @kirsteng42 @loserrlauraa @javierpinme @pascal-rascal424 @ikinmahlen @thorins-queen-of-erebor @dihra-vesa @asta-lily

Din Djarin: @agingerindenial @covidihateu

(If you want to be added or taken off let me know or fill out my taglist form 😊)

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 11.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

Congratulations! You’ve been accepted as the Lady in the first season of The Gentlemen.

<- prev || masterlist || next ->

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, exhibitionism, filmed sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), big dick namjoon serving us tripod realness, dom!joon, and when i say dom i mean both dominant AND domestic : ), impregnation kink, daddy kink, praise, dom!jimin, sub!reader in both of these scenes, lingerie kink (m wearing), copious teasing, very light spanking, french kissing, lapdance, the jimin scene is filthier than the tags give it credit for ngl, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing/eating, aftercare (as always) 

banner designer @jamaisjoons​ | thank you everyone in the sfhs server, you bring me so much joy, motivation and good ideas | AND finally thank you to the anon that suggested [redacted] jimin i legit replanned everything just to make that his prompt

DAY TWELVE

The mattresses in the room of bunk beds are surprisingly comfortable. The metal springs squeak a little if you move too much, but you wake up feeling well-rested.

“Not too bad, right?” Hoseok chirps, swinging out on the ladder and jumping down onto the floor with a thud. Using his laundry from the day before, he unceremoniously swaps his sleep shirt and boxers for some deep green skinny jeans and an orange sweater. Namjoon, more modest and distinctly more sleepy, grabs his clothes and stumbles back to his own room.

“The beds? Better than I was expecting for sure.”

Hoseok smiles warmly as you hop down the ladder and arrive on steady ground again, toes curling into the carpet. He fiddles quickly with a chunky watch, doing up the links. “Breakfast is downstairs if you want it.”

You throw him a teasing grin. “Not if you’re making it, thanks.”

He has the good graces to pretend to be offended, before tugging you into a playful side-hug, ignoring your squeak of surprise. “No, you cheeky fucker, Jungkook bought pancake mix. He texted me saying there’s plenty for everyone.”

“Jungkook making breakfast?” you ask dubiously, but the warm image of pancakes for breakfast makes your stomach growl. “Let me get dressed real quick and I’ll come down.”

Jungkook, it seems, is starting out the day cheerful as ever. He gives you a big grin when you, Namjoon and Hoseok come down for breakfast, and he makes sure to dish up the biggest pancakes for you, before taking the second biggest for himself.

Jin raises a teasing brow when you come down accompanied by the two men, Namjoon still with his hair ruffled up awkwardly from his slumber. “Long night?” he questions with a cheesy wink.

Hoseok catches on to the teasing nature, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Sadly, Namjoon wanted a rest day, so we didn’t enjoy any funny business.”

Jungkook watches the three of you closely, lips tightening just a little bit before he breaks out into a cheeky smile. “I think Y/n would have been too tired out to do anything more anyway.”

You choke on air, a forkful of pancakes blessedly not in your mouth yet. Beside you, Hoseok chuckles awkwardly. “Goodness, JK, we heard enough yesterday. The gym walls are not as thick as they should be.”

Instead of blushing like you are, Jungkook puffs his chest up. “I’ve never heard Y/n scream like that with any of you guys. Then again; I bet you haven’t made her squirt like I did.”

This time you aren’t so fortunate, coughing on a mouthful that you’d anxiously stuffed in to keep yourself occupied. You send Yoongi a grateful look as he slides you a glass of water.

“Jesus, Jungkook,” Jin grimaces, “we’re trying to eat breakfast.”

You keep your eyes down, confused by Jungkook’s behaviour and more than a little embarrassed.

When you hear Namjoon speak up, his voice is strangely tensed. “That’s really not appropriate.”

A heated pause. “This is literally a porn show,” Jungkook states defensively, “sex is the whole reason we’re here. I think everyone’s forgetting this is a competition about being the best in bed, I’m just- You know what, never mind, pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“You just what?” Namjoon questions. It’s unlike him to be argumentative, and you shift in your seat, taking another sip of the ice-cold water. “Did you really make us all pancakes just so you could gloat? Y/n is a person, not a video game, Jungkook. Have a little respect.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but when you glance up, the frustrated rolling of his eyes and furious stabbing of his fork in a pancake speaks volumes.

Yoongi pinches his brow. “Jin-hyung, can you pass the syrup? Thanks.”

Namjoon stares expectantly at the youngest Gentleman for a few moments, before letting out a light huff and returning to his food.

Silence continues for a moment or two before Taehyung pipes up, voice tiny in the oppressive tension. “How many people still have to do their prompts this week? I haven’t done mine yet.”

Yoongi sends him a lightly exasperated look. “Really?”

Taehyung gives a small shrug, glancing to the camboy sitting beside him. “I mean… I don’t think we need to be explicit but this show is about sex. I feel like it’s equally bad if we don’t talk about it at all, you know?”

“The kid’s right,” Jin allows with a wry grin. “I’ve done mine. Tuesday; though I suppose some of you saw.”

Jimin cocks his head, lost. “Saw? Uh, yes, I haven’t done my prompt yet. Actually, uh, if you guys wanna take part, stay in the lounge tonight. I need an audience.”

You send him an inquiring look. “What about me?”

Jimin lets out a short laugh. “Your participation is kind of mandatory. Please stay in the lounge too.”

You appreciate the slow brushes of conversation that ease the tension away. “Am I an audience member or a volunteer?” You grimace suddenly. “Wait, fuck, it isn’t like a circus act or something, right? You aren’t a magician?”

“Don’t worry, the show won’t be that kind of magic,” he promises.

You go to reply, but your attention is caught by the way Jungkook is openly glaring at Namjoon like he’s waiting for something. “Kook?” you question.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. “Why aren’t you saying anything now, Namjoon? So they get to talk about sex but I can’t?”

Jin sucks in harshly through his teeth, sending a look of alarm to the youngest. “Okay, break it up, that’s enough. Jungkook, any more smart comments and you can leave. We’ll talk privately if you need it.”

Jungkook lets out a bitter scoff, but Namjoon is already rising hastily, banging the edge of the table in his haste to get up. “I’ll go,” he urges, “you all can enjoy your breakfast in peace.”

Nobody seems to even breathe as the sounds of Namjoon’s footsteps fade away, a door upstairs shutting harshly.

Yoongi has his face bent, thumb and forefinger pressing to his forehead, like a headache is coming on. “What the fuck was that?” he muses tiredly.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, staring at his pancakes like he’s trying to make them burst into flames.

You bite your tongue harshly, unsettled by how tempers flared so quickly. Unsure of what to do, you stare at Jungkook for a moment. You don’t want it to seem like you’re picking a side, but he has five others around him, and Namjoon is upstairs alone. You slide your chair out, quieter than last time. “I’m just going to check on him. Jungkook; you’re fine, I’m not angry.”

He breaks out of his death stare at his breakfast to send you a look of bewilderment, but Yoongi is already clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I am,” the second eldest declares, and you rush upstairs before the scolding begins.

Namjoon answers, albeit reluctantly, when you knock on the door and call out to him. He’s well and truly awake and alert now, hair combed down sullenly, the purple looking more faded than ever against the rich blue of his long-sleeved t-shirt. “Are you okay?” he asks with a tired frown.

Your brows lift automatically. “That is the exact question I came up here to ask. Can I come in?”

His bedroom is even more tidy than usual, now that he hasn’t been sleeping there. You sit down on the edge of his bed, feeling an unsettling swirl of dread.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook,” is the first thing out of his mouth as he sits down beside you, shoulders hunched like he’s making himself as small as possible.

You shake your head slowly. “You shouldn’t apologise on other people’s behalf. He’ll say sorry if he wants to.”

Namjoon pauses for a moment. “Then I’m sorry about contributing to the uncomfortable atmosphere.”

Despite the situation, your mouth quirks into a grin and your eyes soften. “Forgiven. I’m more worried than angry, you know? About the both of you.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh, eyes dancing aimlessly around the room, no doubt pondering complex concepts at the speed of light like he usually was. “This is probably to be expected, right? Tension. I didn’t think I’d be the one involved, though.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t be a reality show without some drama,” you allow, scooting back on the bed so you can tuck your feet up, crossing your legs. “We’ve just gotta move past it, I guess.”

“Didn’t it make you uncomfortable?” Namjoon blurts suddenly, cringing at the volume of his voice. “Him talking about you so publicly like that?”

You run your tongue along the inside of your cheek. “It took me off guard for sure. I don’t know; I guess sex is kind of our currency in here, you know? Him being so, uh, bold about it out of nowhere is pretty weird, though.” You shrug it off. “Maybe he slept bad last night.”

Namjoon searches your face. “I’m too much of a prude, aren’t I? Things like that bother me, so why did I sign up for a porn show?”

You turn to face him, brows knitted in sympathy. “Just because others are more open doesn’t mean being modest is a bad thing. Don’t let Jungkook’s bad mood make you believe that you don’t belong on the show or that you need to change. Okay?”

The two of you share a tender moment of eye contact, before Namjoon laughs shyly and turns his head away. You grin at him. “What?”

“It’s stupid,” Namjoon deflects, “it’s not the time.”

“Not the time for what?” you press. “Tell me; I’m curious now.”

Namjoon’s eyes dart up, pausing briefly at your lips. “I just… I really wanted to kiss you.”

Your heart swells, but you keep your face open, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “Then you should kiss me.”

All the breath leaves his lungs in a rush, but before he can inhale again, he’s propelling himself forward, wide hands cradling your jaw steady so your lips can join, a little uncoordinated but perfect nonetheless.

The small whimper of surprise is muffled by his lips, but you quickly melt into him, hands clutching at the front of his shirt for stability.

You can taste the remnants of breakfast, the sweet stickiness of maple syrup on his lips. You deepen the kiss to seek out more of the flavour, breaths escaping your nose as you don’t dare part for a second. Namjoon seems equally enraptured, shy flicks of his tongue making your head spin.

You lean in until your wrists are pinned between his chest and yours, and then lean in more, wanting to be close. Like oxygen to fire, the more contact you get the more desperate you become, and when his hands lower to lift you easily onto his lap, grinding you unconsciously against his erection, you feel ablaze.

“I need to-nm-do my prompt,” Namjoon murmurs out, teeth catching on your tongue with how deeply you kiss.

You swallow, leaning back slightly to take a breath in. “We don’t have to now,” you assure, moving your hands up to stabilise yourself on his shoulders so that he cranes his neck up to chase your lips. “Or have you graduated from Hoseok’s School of Sexual Prowess already.”

You smile down at the way his eyes flutter shut with a crooked grin, delicate crescent moon lash line a deep brown against his tanned skin. His lips are flushed and swollen, and he swallows like a man parched before he speaks, blinking blearily up at you. “I prefer to learn on the job,” he quips hoarsely.

You grin, leaning down to nudge him slightly to the side with your nose, giving you a better angle to leave a trail of light kisses from the corner of his mouth to the top of his jaw, tugging on his earlobe just enough that you feel his dick twitch against you. “What’s it gonna be, then? Am I a naughty student? Slacking receptionist? Do I need to sign for a package, delivery boy?”

The chuckle Namjoon lets out is pained and reluctant. “Was that what you were hoping for? It’s a bit more romantic than that.”

“Romantic is good,” you assure, letting his arms on your hips hold you steady as you lean back and search his face. “Do I get any more clues? Tell me something.”

When he blinks up at you, there’s something open and earnest in his gaze, like he’s left behind that shy boy that blushes at any mention of sex. “Let me show you, love.”

He cradles your back and lays you down on his bed so delicately it takes your breath away. Without speaking, he presses his lips to yours again, and once again you feel unanchored in an ocean, kept floating by the pressure of his proximity. Slower than usual, you move against each other; his hands bracing him up by the pillow, your leg hitched up over his waist to keep him close. Between the soft cushioning of his bed and the solid heat of his body, you feel secure and safe, eyes closed so that he fills your other senses entirely.

The sweetness of the maple syrup on his tongue and lips has long since melted away, but it leaves behind his natural flavour, one you think you prefer more. Aftershave still clings to his cheeks, tingling your nostrils, but past it is the bright candylike scent of his orange blossom shampoo, and they mix dizzily as the ends of his hair brush your skin.

Need begins to pool between your legs, but it doesn’t drive you, instead staying muted in the background like the pleasant heat of a bubbling jacuzzi, hips rocking lazily without any true purpose as you focus on the shocks of pleasure when your tongues connect.

It’s impossible to tell how long the two of you stay like that, no urgency or haste, just enjoying the intimacy and closeness of shared breaths and swollen lips. When he trails a hand down to slip under your shirt, even his slightly calloused fingertips running up your side is enough to make you whimper, sensitised to every touch.

Namjoon groans when his palm covers your breast, gripping it and swiping a thumb over your stiffened peak, arousing even through the fabric of your bra, his mouth only leaving yours for the second it takes to push your shirt over and off, connecting again with a small grunt of need.

Though Namjoon’s body is hot like a furnace against you, the open air still causes you to shiver, arching your back so Namjoon can blindly locate the hooks on your bra, able to slip it off you in no time at all.

This time, when his teeth tug at your lip and you feel the uninhibited contact of his fingertip tracing a circle around your nipple, it’s like a spike of electricity straight to your core, igniting that spark of full-blown arousal. Namjoon’s lips quirk against yours when you let a moan catch in your throat.

When he shifts down, you’re expecting his mouth on your breast, or perhaps him to sit up to take his own clothes off, but he doesn’t go nearly that far. Instead he presses your jaw up, exposing your neck but laying kisses on the underside of your chin first.

Perhaps it’s that you weren’t expecting that touch, or perhaps such a unique place isn’t used to that type of attention, but his swollen lips caressing just below your jaw feels magical, eyelids fluttering as he sucks so, so gently.

His hand never leaves your breast, massaging the flesh, tracing where your regular skin pebbles into the dusky areola, nail dragging teasingly over the bud, and your mind is working itself into knots trying to process all the sensations he’s stirring in you.

If his first time was thrilling, this was nothing short of electric, neon bursts of colour behind your eyelids the only thing you can see. As his kisses slowly venture lower, dipping to the base of your neck, pulse throbbing against him, you picture your nerve endings like purple strands of electricity in a plasma ball, lighting up with every touch of his fingers, lips and tongue to your skin.

“Na-Namjoon,” you gasp out, swallowing to ease the dryness in your throat, “don’t tease, I need you.”

Namjoon shifts lower, but not low enough, chin resting on your chest as he looks up at you with a pleased smile, clearly satisfied with his improvement from last time. “But love, there’s no rush. We have the rest of our lives, remember? To have and to hold,” he rumbles lowly, pressing  two light kisses to the top of your heaving breasts, “til death do us part.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

Namjoon’s lip twitches. “Oh,” he repeats playfully. Goosebumps break out on the tops of your arms at this sudden brazenness. He’d clearly been doing plenty of talking with Hoseok, and to see his hard work pay off in your pleasured reactions probably gave him a burst of confidence. “Are you going to be patient for me now, love? Let me savour you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, so you just nod shakily.

Satisfied with your response, Namjoon quirks a lip before using the very tip of his tongue to trail a circle around your nipple, just wide enough that the bud strains for his attention. Your fingers clutch his sides, annoyingly still clothed, as he moves to the other one, still giving your nipple a wide berth. “C-come on, Joonie,” you complain hoarsely, “I need more.”

When he looks up at you from below his lashes and sucks one nipple slowly into his mouth, tongue pressing it against his upper teeth, you hiss sharply, releasing the air in a breathy moan. Namjoon suckles at you gently, still languid but no longer avoiding your most sensitive areas, and the hand not propping him up begins rolling the other one between his fingers, making you shudder.

You’re so wet between your legs it’s growing uncomfortable, and so you cant your hips up towards him, hoping he gets the message. He tuts at you, but pulls off your nipple with a wet pop and sits up to undress further.

Namjoon shucks his own shirt without ceremony before his fingers find your waistband, and you let him slide off your pants and underwear as you lie back and enjoy the sight of his thick chest and smooth stomach, a trail of dark baby hairs disappearing past his jeans that you didn’t remember noticing the first time you slept with him.

He takes off those jeans, his boxers too, and joins you on the bed again, running a warm palm up your side. “I want to taste you,” he announces simply, carding a hand through his hair to keep it out of your face.

“Fuck, please.” You watch with wide eyes as he lies on his stomach, hands dipping under your thighs to lift and part them. The exposed air has you clenching instinctively, and you swear you can see his eyes dilate at the sight. “Namjoon,” you whine, back arching in impatience.

“Shh, love, I’ve got you,” he assures, peppering kisses from just below your knees, down your thighs until you can feel his breath on your core. “So beautiful.”

You can barely breathe, head propped up on the pillow to stare down the plains of your chest and stomach to the insanely attractive man between your legs. Though you’d grown fond of the kinkier, wild scenes - in fact, your dreams at night had taken a turn since joining the show - something about seeing Namjoon so at his element in this domestic atmosphere has you dripping.

Like he has all the time in the world, he locks eyes with you and blows a wave of slightly cool air over your folds. You breathe out a groan, sending him what you hope is a convincing-enough pleading gaze. He smiles placidly, licks his lips, ducks his head even further, and-

And blows another stream, this time narrowed and colder, directly over your clit. You shudder and buck instinctively in his grip, his hands on your thighs keeping you spread.

“Come on,” you gasp out, “Hoseok’s made you into a fucking demon!”

“Oh, trust me,” Namjoon murmurs, “Hoseok’s version was way kinkier than this. I’m trying to be romantic and sensual.”

You shift again, fruitlessly trying to wiggle your hips closer. “It would be really fucking romantic if you would actually put your mouth on my-ah!”

Just like you know Hoseok would (you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for this), Namjoon strikes when you least expect it, and when you most need it.

Though his mouth is small, his tongue is no less nimble, darting deeply through your folds to collect your juices and using them to slurp harshly at your clit. You jerk, hand shooting down to latch in his hair, but he continues that constant, unyielding vacuum until you’re squirming hopelessly beneath him, finally pulling off with the slightest graze of teeth.

“Happy now?” he retorts, swollen lips glossy with your slick. His hands tighten on your thighs. “Hold them.”

Invigorated by his command, you rush to grasp the backs of your knees, keeping your legs up and spread for him. “Fuck, so good, Joonie, w-want more.”

Now with two hands freed, it’s no surprise when two fingers find their way into your wet heat, twisting inside you with every smooth thrust. His chin is smeared with your wetness when he lowers it to continue laving his tongue over your sensitive clit, but he groans sinfully into you, like he’s getting just as much pleasure from it as you are.

Once he really gets going, he’s merciless, his fingers so thick that you don’t even need a third one to really feel him filling you, hooking up to rub at your g-spot every now and again to hear the involuntary whimpers you give out.

You hold onto your own knees for dear life, writhing under him as a hot coil tightens inside you. “Fu-fuck, Joonie, I’m getting close.”

His mouth detaches from your clit for a bare moment, enough for him to pant out a groan and stare lustily up at you. “Don’t cum yet,” he instructs lowly, “you’re going to cum on my cock this time, love.”

You whine, biting your lip harshly to try and distract from the building pleasure. “Then you have to- have to stop, Joonie,” you shudder out reluctantly.

To your surprise, Namjoon is even more begrudging than you are, tugging out his fingers to chase a last few indulgent licks up your seam before he finally sits up to kneel, panting. “Are you ready for me?”

You feel yourself grow impossibly wetter at the sight of him grasping his length, slipping it through your folds to slick it up. “Yes, god yes, I need it, need your cock,” you garble.

Namjoon’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, before he presses his head to your entrance, sinking in barely an inch to test your reaction. “Can’t wait to fill you up, love,” he admits, abs clenching with the effort it takes to sink in slowly. “Fuck a baby into you, my perfect girl.”

Your heart races at his words, clenching around. “God, yes, Joonie, please.” Though all the Gentlemen were well aware you were on birth control, there was something wildly erotic about the thought of it. “Fill me up, wanna be good for you.”

Finally he bottoms out, and your thighs shake at the stretch. With your hips tilted up, it almost feels like he’s fucking right into your stomach, so deep your mind struggles to process the sensations. He heaves a few breaths, giving you a chance to squeeze around him experimentally and grow accustomed to him filling you so completely.

You mumble out your permission for him to move breathily, the air punched out of your lungs when he pulls out only to drive deep inside of you in one slick thrust. Your mouth drops open once he begins to thrust, holding onto your knees for dear life as they tremble uncontrollably.

“God, look at you,” Namjoon pants out, chest heaving with excitement or exertion, perhaps a mix of both. One of his palms presses against the top of your stomach, increasing the pressure of his cock inside you. “‘Be so beautiful with my baby inside you, love, tummy swollen. I’ll take good care of you, would you like that?”

You have to squeeze your eyes shut to put all your focus into speaking. “Ye-yeah, I want that, Joonie,” you manage to articulate, his length keeping your mouth watering whenever he’s inside you. “Gonna be such a good daddy, Joon.”

Like a switch being flicked, Namjoon suddenly jerks, going rigid. Your eyes open blearily when he stills inside you, and you moan openly at the fucked-out look on his face, his eyes lidded and hair wild.

“S-say that again,” he commands, and your mouth drops open at the desperate grate to his voice.

So Namjoon liked to be called… “Daddy,” you whine experimentally, grinning when his cock twitches, hips juddering. “Want you to fuck me, Daddy, please move.”

“God, love, so fucking perfect for me,” he makes out before he starts off again with a renewed vigor, hands kneading at your breasts, at the flesh of your hips, at your ass as he lifts you up to meet his every thrust.

The feeling of him fucking into you so intensely has you feeling delirious, unsure if the ringing in your ears is actually the sounds of your own cries, torn from your throat with every slap of his balls against your ass, the weight of his hips jerking you into the pillow more and more every time.

You feel the pressure of his body hovering just above you, the angle of his thrusts changing, then suddenly his mouth is on your breast again, sucking harshly at the nipple. With the way your body moves beneath him, he can’t help but scrape his teeth against you a couple times, but it just makes the pleasure soar higher, neon starbusts of colour behind your eyelids when you squeeze them closed.

“Close again,” you warn desperately, losing the grip on one of your knees due to the sweat gathering there. With one up and one down, the angle changes again, and you reach out blindly to latch onto his upper arm, screaming at the heights of pleasure. “Can I cum this time, Daddy, please let me cum!”

“Fuck, give it to me, cum for me,” he growls out around your breast, and you see stars.

The orgasm that rips through you is powerful enough that all your senses fade suddenly away, unable to feel anything expect a rush of pleasure all the way down to your toes, boneless yet convulsing as he pistons his hips into you once, twice, three more times until he’s taken by the way you clench tightly around him.

He laps clumsily, wetly at your nipple as he spills inside you, before the two of you are completely drained of energy. Panting, heaving, you don’t even manage to catch your breath before you’re falling into slumber, Namjoon still inside you.

--

“He told us to wait here, right?” you ask anxiously.

There are six of you gathered on the couches in the lounge. Television off, the silence is weirdly uncomfortable. Perhaps that’s just because you know that everyone is waiting here not only to see Jimin, but to see what Jimin is going to do to you.

Hoseok, tucked into the smallest corner of the couch on the right, huffs lightly at your question. “He’s Jimin, Y/n. Either he’s up there primping or he’s just making you wait to be obnoxious.”

Perched beside him with a glass of whisky, two fingers full, Yoongi sends a droll glare to Hoseok. “Bold words for a man who’s choosing to watch the show.”

“I’m curious, sue me.”

“I think we all are,” Namjoon adds, curled up beside you in the central position of the three couches. “I think the only one that knows his prompt is Tae.”

Taehyung turns to answer, propped up against Jin’s side on the left, but the eldest interrupts, a crease of worry between his brows. “Not all of us, it seems,” he points out. “Don’t you find it strange that Jungkook isn’t here?”

“Does he know?” Taehyung wonders, fingers dipping into his pocket to reach for his phone.

Yoongi frowns. “He knows. He asked me not to make him anything for dinner tonight. Said he wasn’t feeling well. Didn’t seem like he was sick, just… distressed. I think you should talk with him, Jin.”

Jin sucks in a breath, pauses, and exhales again, jaw flexing. “Sure.”

The six of you lapse into a slightly strained silence again, before Namjoon gets restless, shifting beside you until he finally clears his throat and looks up at Yoongi. “What is for dinner, hyung?”

“We didn’t really have much for lunch, so I’m thinking steak and pasta,” the doctor offers up. “There’s some carbonara sauce in the pantry that looks good.”

Taehyung coughs nervously. “Do we have steak? I didn’t think there were-”

“We had plenty this morning when I checked,” Yoongi cuts in evenly. “Should I be aware of any recent developments?”

The masseuse pouts, leaning further into Jin’s side like he’ll protect him. “Well… It’s just that I feel so bad for Mango! The kennel I bought online isn’t as insulated as I hoped it would be and I know she gets lonely.”

Yoongi groans, going lax on the leather of the couch. “So you figured she’d what? Cuddle with the steaks?”

“I just figured maybe if I gave her nice food she’d cheer up,” Taehyung adds, “and it was just two! Are you mad at me?”

“No, I guess I’m not. Jungkook isn’t eating anyway, and…” Yoongi grins. “As penance, you can have plain pasta and watch the rest of us enjoy our perfectly cooked steaks.”

Taehyung throws himself against Jin dramatically, but even as he moans in misery, a relieved smile crooks at his lips. “I suppose,” he drawls begrudgingly, and once again a light atmosphere fills the room, like everyone’s just sighed out a breath of relief.

You lean onto the arm of the couch, facing Taehyung. “Tae, Jimin’s prompt isn’t too, like, intense, right?”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean? For him or for you?”

“Uh…” Your mind whirls blankly, cheeks heating up as you draw the attention of the other guys. “For- for me. So far some of the scenes have been pretty taxing, and I guess I just didn’t expect such a jump up from Week One.”

Instead of laughing or teasing, the others go a little solemn, perhaps even bashful. “Jimin’s isn’t super crazy, Y/n, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures quickly.

Yoongi bites down hard on his tongue, jaw popping. “We didn’t go too hard on you, did we?”

You suck in a breath. “I mean- No, not individually. It builds up though, you know?” Something niggles in the back of your mind, something you’ve wondered for a while. “Do you guys talk about it?”

Hoseok hesitates. “About fucking you?”

Your cheeks are on fire as you curl up small in the corner. “Not- Not that specifically, but just… Do you guys discuss who goes when and who has what? I kinda wondered why you spread yourselves out, if it’s just a coincidence or if you- Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“We kinda do,” Hoseok admits freely. “Like, obviously we don’t all sit down in a room brainstorming or something-” You don’t miss the way Taehyung and Namjoon instinctively lock gazes, though you can’t quite read their expressions. Hoseok continues, “but we do chat with each other and try and give each other space.”

Jin shrugs easily. “Yeah, like, I’ll just say in the groupchat, ‘I’m planning on doing my scene outside, look outside at your own risk’ or whatever.” The eldest stiffens as he’s fixed with several glares of alarm, including your own. “What? Were we not meant to tell her about the groupchat?”

Your mouth drops open. “You guys have a groupchat without me? I wanna see!”

“That defeats the purpose of you not being in the group chat,” Yoongi points out, though his grin is more sheepish than mischievous.

You make a noise of exasperation, ready to protest further, but before you can open your mouth the doorbell rings.

Everyone freezes.

After a moment, the doorbell rings again.

“You should go get it,” Taehyung supplies helpfully, eyes on you. “Might be interesting.”

Your heart picks up with the cool thread of adrenaline. It’s time. All eyes are on you as you sit up and make your way out to the foyer, the tile cool under your bare feet.

Though the door is a rich mahogany, clouded glass panels on either side betray a dark figure, perfectly still. Even though you can barely see the outline, there’s no deny the expectant tilt of their head belongs to none other than Jimin.

By the time you pad up to the door and turn the knob, his hand is outstretched to ring the bell a third time, and his mouth parts in surprise before giving you a pleasant beam.

You’d been wondering if he was meant to be a delivery guy, a mechanic, something along those lines, but your first glance over him proves you wrong.

His blue hair is glossy enough to reflect the light of the lamp above the doorway, curled in graceful swoops on his forehead and temples. Though he always wore makeup, it was clear he’s set to impress, with a bold russet red lip, powerful black eyeliner and a spot of gold under each eye.

He’s taller than usual, and you glance down automatically, to be greeted with the most gorgeous black heels, stiletto points giving him an extra few inches of height. The shoes make his legs look a mile long, and you suck in a breath as you follow them up, realising they’re completely bare, the only adornment a sinfully tight pair of black fishnets that dig in to his thighs and calves.

In fact, all he seems to be wearing otherwise is a black trenchcoat, falling to mid-thigh and with the sash tied so tightly it accentuates his narrow waist.

All put together, he looks like sin personified, the kind sailors drown for. You can’t help but want to dive in yourself. Trying to go along with the roleplay, you play dumb. “Do I, uh, do I know you?”

Jimin’s smile broadens as his arm falls, hand resting snugly on his hip. “You will soon, sweetness.” Usually one for pinks, nudes and clear glosses, seeing him suddenly in a deep red makes you realise just how full his lips are. You miss the feeling of them on you. “Did Taehyung not tell you I was coming?”

“Did Tae-?” You clear your throat, unsure how to proceed. This Jimin was Amazonian; bruisingly pretty and intimidating in his grace. “I guess not? Was he supposed to?”

His eyes crinkle empathetically, darting past you into the foyer. “Let’s talk inside, shall we? I’m not exactly dressed for the outdoors.”

“Oh, fuck!” you blurt instinctively, and you swear his lip twitches before you’re backing away hastily, ushering him inside. “I’m so sorry, please come in! Do you want me to take your coat? I don’t- I don’t know what you need.”

Jimin steps inside and closes the door behind him in one smooth motion, punctuated only by the click of his heels on the tile. He reaches out to pat your cheek, only somewhat condescendingly. “No wonder, sweetness, you didn’t even know I was coming.” That isn’t quite true, but in the scheme of things, you may as well not have known he was doing his scene tonight at all for all it’s helping you. “Why don’t you lead me to Taehyung? I assume he’s here.”

“Of course he’s- I mean, yes, he’s here. Right this way.”

The two of you only have a short trip to the lounge, where no doubt the other five have been straining their ears to eavesdrop, but every strike of his heels against the floor behind you has the hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end.

In the lounge, the guys are all turned around in their seats to shamelessly ogle Jimin, Taehyung the only one without the gobsmacked look on his face - though even he takes in an unsteady breath at how gorgeous the man looks.

You make your way to him, standing awkwardly in front of the couch that him and Jin share. Turning back to face Jimin, you can’t help but match Taehyung’s reaction. Jimin looks even more radiant in the decent lighting of the room. You can see now his trenchcoat is a lush fabric, slightly thicker than silk, and deeply matte. Around the inside of the collar is a faint embossed silver logo, promoting Chanel as the designer of that piece.

Ignoring the stunned silence of the room, Jimin slinks immediately to Taehyung, tipping his chin up with his knuckles. “Did you not tell Y/n about me, hm?” he questions with a faux pout. “Kept it a secret, our naughty Taehyungie.”

The masseuse wilts pleadingly under Jimin’s gaze, and the responding wicked grin makes you think that Jimin probably told him to keep quiet, only to tell him off for it now. “Sorry, Minnie,” Taehyung mutters nonetheless. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Did you now?” Jimin lets go of him, stepping back. “I suppose we should get down to business, then. Are you all leaving, or do I have an audience tonight?” Glancing around imperiously, you watch as his eyes dart back and forth, smile faltering. His breath catches, eyes dull with disappointment that he quickly masks under a broad smile. “It’s just the six of you, then?”

Your heart aches as you think of the missing person still upstairs in his room. “Yeah, it’s just us.”

Always the professional, Jimin moves on without comment. “Well, then, sweetness; take a seat and get comfortable. You’re a lucky girl tonight.”

Your mouth feels dry even as it waters. Taking your seat beside Namjoon again, you watch in rapt anticipation as Jimin slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, fiddling with something on it as he strolls slowly into the center of the room, just in front of the television.

“We have a few rules,” Jimin announces. “No heckling, no getting drunk while I’m here, and no touching unless I give you permission. They’re simple, so I expect you to follow them. Got it?”

With his back to the group as he sets up his phone, you’re unsure who exactly he’s addressing, but some of you make general hums of confirmation, all the attention on Jimin.

When the music starts - a deep, thrumming beat with a sensual pace - you can see the change in him immediately, even from the back. His shoulders adjust, head tips back slightly like he’s letting it run through him, and his fingers find the knot of his sash.

You can barely comprehend the fact that Jimin is about to dance for you, breath caught in your throat when his hips begin to sway and the fabric of his trenchcoat loosens, slipping down just enough to reveal the tops of his shoulders, bare except two skinny black straps.

Following the groove of the music, he rocks his head back, hips shifting side to side, and lets the coat fall an inch at a time. A tight black bodice is revealed, structured leather with a soft velvet trim that covers most of his back. Sleeves dangling right at the ends of his fingertips, the coat dips just below the swells of his ass, which are clad in a racy g-string, a thicker band of lace low across his hips and a narrow one running down the middle of his cheeks. Letting the coat go completely, the last of his back silhouette is exposed, the leather garter straps that hold those fishnet stockings up.

“Shit!” Yoongi hisses under his breath, hands glinting in the light and whiskey glass significantly emptier than before. A dark patch spreads across one leg of his pants, evidence of him spilling his drink.

Though he was quiet, Jimin picks up on it, and turns smoothly, lightly surprised and heavily amused, watching Yoongi squirm in embarrassment as he approaches.

If the view from the back is breathtaking, seeing Jimin full-frontal is another level. The bodice has clearly been tailored for someone with a flat chest, but the shape no less speaks to the feminine style of a bra, roughly triangular leather covering the upper half of his chest to meet the smooth velvet straps. The whole piece is just short enough that it leaves a stripe of skin between fabrics, his hipbones jutting out gracefully and guiding your gaze lower, where the front of his lace panties strain with the size of his length, the tip threatening to peek out the top.

He’s hard, you notice with a start, and from the hazy look on everyone’s faces, they’ve noticed it too. Jimin likes this.

When he’s standing in front of Yoongi, towering over the other in his heels, he reaches out a hand silently, eyes darting to the glass in Yoongi’s hand.

The elder gulps, holding it up, blushing as Jimin wraps one hand around Yoongi’s wrist, and takes the glass from him with the other. In a graceful swill, he downs the last of Yoongi’s whiskey, not even wincing. Teasingly, he bends down to place the empty glass directly over Yoongi’s crotch, making him hiss.

Like he has all the time in the world, Jimin straightens up again and tugs the wrist in his grasp higher. Locking eyes, Jimin parts his lips and wraps them around the base of Yoongi’s thumb, sucking off the spilt liquor.

Yoongi groans lowly, cheeks stained red as his eyes flutter shut in a mix of pleasure and humiliation. As Jimin makes his way through all of Yoongi’s fingers, bobbing his head obscenely and swirling his tongue, you think you see the empty glass wobble on Yoongi’s lap, like his cock is twitching in his pants. Fuck. It’s not even you getting the full weight of Jimin’s attention and you already feel dizzy with need.

Once he’s done, Jimin lets go and Yoongi’s hand falls limply to his side. Satisfied, he moves to the center of the room again, hips fluid with the flow of the music.

A cursory glance around the room shows that you’re not the only one heavily affected. Beside you Namjoon is restless, shifting back and forth from spreading his legs to ease the pressure, and clenching them together to try and hide the bulge in his pants. Hoseok looks pale, eyes wide and locked onto Jimin’s ass as he walks away from their couch.

On the other side, Taehyung and Jin are significantly more shameless; Jin rests a hand on the back of Tae’s neck and tugs at the curls of hair there as the younger boy ruts against his thigh, curled into his side even as the two of them focus on the attraction in the centre of the room.

You can only imagine how fucked out you must look too, wriggling against the couch cushion seeking friction with your heart thudding in your chest. The effect is only heightened when Jimin locks his eyes to you and begins to dance.

One day, a few of you were gathered in this very lounge, having enough drinks to get a bit silly and uncoordinated. Jimin had told you all a little bit about his dancing career. From what he’d said, you formed this mental image of him in soft makeup and satin shoes, dainty but powerful in front of an adoring crowd. The way he spoke about music - too much of a heavyweight to be as incoherent as the rest of you - made it seem like it was his greatest love, a match made in heaven.

Though now pirouettes and grand jetés had been replaced by spread legs and lidded eyes, you could still see that passion he spoke of. It enchanted you like a snake charmer or a siren, and arousal entwines endlessly with awe in your stomach.

After what feels like the shortest eternity, the music of the first song fades out, and Jimin straightens up, exhaling a breath like he’s releasing its hold from his body to make room for the next.

The tune that fills the room next has a decently higher tempo than the first one, each beat punctuated by a clap, and he grins when he hears it, stalking forwards.

Between Jimin and the rest of you is a coffee table, and he makes his way around to Taehyung and Jin, eyes sparkling at how Taehyung straddles Jin’s thigh, blinking up at the dancer owlishly.

“Oh, baby,” Jimin coos, “enjoying the show?”

Taehyung nods, not shy but too wound up to speak.

At the lack of verbal response, Jimin grins, perching himself on Jin’s other thigh, making the eldest hiss. “Taehyungie,” Jimin calls in a sing-song voice, fingers winding into his hair, just above Jin’s, “you still haven’t paid me for my services, you know?”

“H-huh?” Poor Taehyung looks barely coherent, interrupted from his grind and staring weakly at Jimin’s glossy lips. You can’t imagine you’d be faring any better in his situation. “What- How do I pay you?”

Jimin faux pouts. “Normally I’m very expensive,” he admits lowly, but the room is silent apart from the music, and since it’s just playing from his phone, it doesn’t impede the rest of you listening in. “But I like you. I’ll take my payment tomorrow. You know what I mean, right?”

Taehyung nods dumbly, obediently, making the dancer grin wickedly.

Fixing his attention on Jin, Jimin trails his fingertips up his thigh and traces the outline of Jin’s cock in his makes, making him groan. “Take good care of my baby tonight, won’t you?”

Jin sucks in a shaky breath, eyes darting to Taehyung, but the curly-haired boy just whines and buries his face in the crook of Jin’s neck, a wordless display. “You got it, Min.”

From the other side of the room, a click of the tongue catches your attention. Hoseok is straight-faced, extricating himself from the corner of the couch to stand up and make his way out.

Jimin swiftly stands in front of him to impede his way. “Where are you going?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes with a shrug. “I came, I saw, I sated my curiosity. I’m not interested in waiting in line to be fondled, thank you very much.”

Jimin seems to have forgotten the music, eyes gleaming as he faces off the dom. “Poor baby too impatient to wait, hm? I’ll let you jump the queue,” he finishes in a husky voice, grinning.

Hoseok eyes the doorway behind Jimin, huffing impatiently. “Nice try. I’m not interested.”

Tipping his head to the side, Jimin’s brows lift in a mix of surprise and bemusement. “I’m inclined to disagree,” he says, taking a step closer so that only a sliver of air parts them. Hoseok stiffens, stubbornly avoiding looking at the dancer. “I’d venture a guess that you’re leaving so suddenly because you’re a little too interested.” Slow enough that Hoseok has plenty of time to refuse, Jimin runs his knuckles all the way down Hoseok’s front, brushing over his crotch. His grin widens, flashing white teeth. “Hmm.”

Hoseok scoffs and pulls himself away, neck and forehead slightly red. “Don’t get too cocky. It was from Taehyung, not from you, peaches.”

Even from the other side of the room, Jimin’s instinctual reaction is clear as day. His shoulders drop and his lips part, lashes fluttering before he can control the response.

If you didn’t miss it, Hoseok certainly didn’t either. He barks out a laugh, back in power again, and steps to Jimin’s side to pass him. “Knew it. Don’t miss me too much, then, peaches.”

Even as Jimin is shuddering at the petname again, Hoseok rears his hand back to smack Jimin’s ass with a sharp noise of impact, Jimin jumping forward with a startled squeak. “No touching!” the dancer hisses, one ass cheek already flooding with a sweet candy pink.

“Apologies,” Hoseok says with a teasing grin, already at the doorway, “I’ll see myself out.”

Jimin makes an indignant cry, but the older man is already bouncing up the stairs cheerfully. Determined to get the sexy atmosphere back, Jimin takes a deep breath and turns back to you all with a rueful smile, but it falters when the music fades out, the second song ending. “Ah,” he murmurs, “show’s over, kids.”

Namjoon, the only guy that hadn’t received any personal attention, sits up with a frown. “Wait, already?”

Jimin shrugs, smiling at him sweetly. “Sorry, Joon. Last song’s a private dance. Maybe another time.”

A private dance. Your breath quickens as Jimin turns off the next song that randomly came up on shuffle, collects his phone, and hitches his coat off the floor with the point of a stiletto, gathering it under his arm.

The others quietly start to stretch, sit up, Yoongi going to fill up his glass again. By the time Jimin makes his way to you, Jin has already lifted Tae up with a single arm under him, carrying the younger upstairs as Taehyung sucks shamelessly at his neck. Namjoon is slower to move, probably still a little worked up and edged from the show, but he joins Yoongi in the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone.

Once Jimin is directly in front of you, your breath stops. He’s gathered the lightest sheen of sweat from dancing, or perhaps that’s just the highlighter on his cheeks, and his eyes are hazed from the excitement of performing. He silently reaches a hand out to you with an enticing smirk.

You furrow your brow in confusion. “Not here?”

“I did say private. Unless you want me to fuck you where everyone can see?”

You gulp at the thinly veiled threat. “We can go.” You take his hand and let him lift you up with effortless strength, pausing when he looks at you expectantly. “Did I do something…?”

Jimin beams like you’re a cute but stupid pet. “I haven’t been here before, remember? Show me to your room, sweetness.”

“Oh!” You rush past him, hands catching to guide him out and upstairs. The thrill of excitement speeds your steps, and in no time at all he’s placing his coat and phone on your desk, guiding you to sit on the end of the bed.

The third song starts with the familiar smoothness of Beyonce’s voice, an older pop song that holds up still, and Jimin slips off the black straps of the bodice, another set directly below them. Arms tucking behind him, he begins to undo the clasps one by one.

“You were being very well behaved, you know, sitting there and waiting for your turn,” he muses, fiddling with the fabric behind him. “Now you get a reward.”

You don’t know what to say in response, just nodding wordlessly, but it seems he is content with that. After a moment, you notice the top half of the bodice pull away from his chest lightly, revealing not plain skin but more lace, matching the panties that struggle to cover his cock. He approaches you as he undoes the last few at the base, and slips smoothly between your legs, letting it fall to the side.

In front of you in all his glory, Jimin looks gorgeous, the inky swoops of his tattoo peeking out from under a sweet black lace bralette, the skinniest straps holding up the delicate cups. In the center is a tiny black satin bow, and you think you feel your heart give out a little at the sight of it.

Even in his pretty lingerie, he’s no less intimidating, and you shudder at the feeling of his eyes locked onto you, feeding on your reactions and pinning you to the bed.

“You like it?” the dancer asks, voice rough with arousal. You nod quickly, still too stunned for words. Jimin hums, winding a hand around the back of your neck. “Show me how much you like it.”

Before you can suck in a breath, his mouth descends on yours, and a shot of electricity runs through you as he spares no time for pecks and caresses. This kiss is nothing short of filthy, his tongue runs over your teeth, he bites your lips, he sucks on your tongue. You do your best to reciprocate enthusiastically, but there’s no question who’s in charge.

With how deep and primal it is, there’s no surprise when you feel your shared spit begin to collect in the corners of your lips and run down your chin. Jimin doesn’t stop, but lowers his mouth to lap it up, pushing it back in and continuing to fuck his tongue into your mouth.

You moan hopelessly into the kiss, hips rocking on the edge of the mattress fruitlessly and fingers holding on to his neck and shoulder for dear life. His teeth are sharp, nipping mercilessly at your bottom lip until your eyes sting, but it only serves to drive more need.

The music in the background livens up as it reaches the chorus, and suddenly the thought of the song finishing and him leaving you high and dry comes to mind. You tug yourself away from him, sucking the spit off your swollen lip. “Jimin,” you gasp out, “I want you.”

Jimin grins. Though his gloss is all but gone, the colour on his lips remains intact. “You aren’t gonna let me finish my dance, sweetness?”

“Wi-Will you still fuck me after the song ends?” you ask, feeling stupid for needing confirmation.

Jimin lets out a soft but condescending coo, hands squeezing your cheeks together so that your lips pout. “Poor baby just wants to get fucked, does she? Baby just wants a cock in her.”

Even as he mocks you, you can’t even defend yourself. “Please, Jiminie.”

He places a single light peck over your protruding and obscenely swollen lips. “Let’s make a deal; I’ll dance for the rest of the song, and if you can keep your hands to yourself, I’ll let you cum when I fuck you. Sound fair?”

At this point, you’d agree to anything, and both of you know it. “I can do it,” you insist even as your voice wobbles.

Instead of answering, Jimin begins to move, following the momentum of the music. Your hands lie at their sides, the duvet cool against your heated flesh.

He starts out easy, stepping back to give himself more space and slowly lowering into a crouch, the heels making his calves pop. Running his hands down his chest, fingers slipping under the lace, he sighs out like his own touch gives him unspeakable pleasure.

You grit your teeth. Watching him touch himself just makes you want to touch him more. He widens his legs, showing the place where the lacy band narrows down below his balls into a thin string. Whether it’s the angle or just the amount of moving he’s done, the tip of his cock has nestled up higher, poking out just to the side of his hip. Shamelessly, he runs a single fingertip over it, tapping so you can see the clear strands of precum that cling.

You let out an unsteady breath, relaxing slightly as the song begins to build to the final chorus. Not long.

Unfortunately for you, Jimin recognises the changing keys as well as you do, and he stands up smoothly, slinking towards you.

Instead of settling between your knees this time, he turns his back to you and bends down, folding himself in half to fully bare his ass. Hoseok’s handprint still pinkens the skin of one, and the sudden desire to reach out and see if it’s as warm to the touch as it looks overcomes you. You hiss and fist your hands in the fabric of the duvet cover, making Jimin stretch up with a laugh.

Merciless, Jimin widens his stance, choosing to sit on top of your lap, ass grinding on you. You can imagine this movement would be much more unbearable for a guy, but you still feel your resolve unravelling, taken by the fluidity of his hips, the lace accuentuating his slender waist, the pressure of his head as he tips it back onto your shoulder.

“This is so unfair,” you complain shakily, and are rewarded with the musical giggle Jimin lets out, bubbling from his arched throat right into your ear.

Luckily, the chorus ends, and the final notes settle down. Jimin’s hips still and he turns his head, lips just about brushing your cheek. “Good job, sweetness,” he praises warmly, “can I have another kiss?”

Your jaw jerks automatically before you catch yourself. Though it’s fading out, the song technically hasn’t ended yet. “Not yet.”

Shameless even as his ruse is exposed, Jimin just beams and twist around so that he’s straddling you face-on. He lowers his mouth to your collarbone, nibbling at the skin there as the beat fades and the overlaying instruments peter out. Though it must only be ten or fifteen seconds, it feels like forever as he rocks himself against you just like Taehyung had done to Jin - albeit less desperate and more strategic - and licks at the bite marks on your neck.

Finally, it goes silent, and you exhale deeply, hands automatically coming up to rest on his hips as he laughs lightly at your successful efforts. “I’m impressed,” he admits, “guess you get your reward after all, sweetness.”

So relieved that the heat between your legs will get some attention, you barely take notice of him standing up off you, at least not until he slips his cock fully out of the panties.

His cock, straining with being left unattended so long, is a far deeper pink than the mark on his ass, particularly around the head. He sucks in a breath through his nose as he strokes himself, before blinking down at you.

“Clothes off if you want me, sweetness.”

You could guarantee you’ve never undressed so quickly before, frantically enough that your hips are hot from the friction of tugging down your pants. You take no note, however, just spreading your legs wantonly as you eye up his cock.

“Fuck, look at you,” Jimin curses, bracing a hand on your hip as he lines himself up. “Don’t even need stretching, do you? Looks like Joonie opened you up for me already.”

Your cheeks burn, but there’s not enough time to dwell on the embarrassment, as Jimin holds you down with his grasp on your hip and bottoms out in a single thrust.

Even though he’s right, the sudden fullness has you gasping a moan, almost falling onto your back. You prop yourself up and widen your legs further, eyes locked on the sight of his cock, nestled underneath by the lushest black lace, buried deep inside you. “Fuck, please move.”

“My pleasure,” he coos with a sweet smile, before the smile drops to a slack pout of lust, snapping his hips with a deftness that you now know is due to his background as a dancer.

You fight to keep yourself sitting up, one hand around the back of his neck as he fills you with every stroke, but the angle isn’t quite right, and you find your pelvis shifting to find it.

Jimin notices your frustration, and wordlessly pauses, grips your thighs and tugs you forward so that you’re flat on your back, ass over the edge and held up by his upper body strength. Without you even processing the change, he’s returning to his ruthless place, and you sob from relief at the way your insides come alive with pleasure, so much stronger than before.

“Fuck, right there! Right- ungh, yes, Ji-Jimin,” you pant out, feeling unbearably hot all at once with the intensity of it.

Though part of you is still sore from the scene you had with Namjoon earlier, your swollen walls only increase the drag of him against your sensitive tissue, and you quickly turn incoherent, tongue so thick in your mouth that you open it, panting as your fingers clutch the duvet to anchor you.

“That good, huh?” Jimin notes with a laugh stuttered by grunts of exertion. Normally, you’d protest or retort, but with your ankles wrapped around him and back arching off the bed, there’s nothing on your mind but the enveloping urge to cum.

Rather than reply, you just let yourself drown in the sensations, vision going black as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your orgasm comes so fast that you don’t even notice it approaching, can’t even warn him. It’s like a clap of thunder, making you go stiff with a scream before turning completely boneless, legs slipping down off him weakly.

Jimin curses as you squeeze around him, but fucks you through it thoroughly, only slowing down once you begin to fuss, shivering and wriggling away.

Dazed from the sudden onslaught of pleasure, it takes you a few moments for the fog in your brain to clear. Once you do, you glance down and realise Jimin is still achingly hard, dripping with your slick and the remnants of Namjoon’s cum, but none of his own. He strokes it lazily, gaze searching your face.

So exhausted from two intense scenes in one day, you don’t think you could manage to jerk him off or give him a decent blowjob, but to leave him hanging would be cruel. Instead, you fumble to slide yourself off the bed, landing a little too hard on your knees.

“What are you- oh, Y/n, fuck,” Jimin exclaims lowly as you blink up at him and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. He gets the message easily, speeding up his strokes as his tip bounces on your tongue, brief sparks of the salty tang of your shared arousal.

He must have been close before, because it doesn’t take him more than a minute to fall over the edge, cumming into your mouth with thick spurts. A shame it couldn’t have been inside you a different way, but you nonetheless chase his cock, blade of your tongue dipping into his slit to make sure you’d gotten every last drop.

Jimin swears lowly, stroking your hair back fondly as you swallow, and helps you stand up on wobbly legs.

Leading you to the bathroom, Jimin sits you on the closed toilet seat as he runs a bath. Having slipped off his heels somewhere back in the room, he unhooks his garters as he waits for the tub to fill. With one leg resting on the high edge of the tub, rolling down the fishnets one at a time, you once again are silenced in awe of his beauty.

It feels unspeakably intimate to watch him unclasp the bralette, slip off the panties, and slowly take his makeup off, easily locating the makeup remover he’d borrowed from you that very first night.

Your eyes sting a little as you’re reminded of that time. It feels like an eternity ago, even though it’s just under a fortnight. You’d thought he was so intimidating back then. Though he still had the power to command attention, you’d seen enough of the kindhearted, thoughtful and sensitive man beneath that the Jimin two weeks ago felt like a very different man.

“Water’s ready.”

You blink yourself out of that train of thought, letting Jimin help you carefully into the tub, joining you on the other side, legs tangled. “Thank you,” you manage to say, still feeling a little out of it after a tiring day and a good orgasm.

Jimin beams, glancing away to obscure some of his face. It’s clear to you that the lack of makeup has him feeling a bit vulnerable. His skin is flushed red - either naturally or from exertion you couldn’t tell - and his brows were softer, eyes looking smaller without the shadow that emphasised them. He wasn’t any less beautiful like this, just more human. Comforting, in a way, as he passes you a washcloth and begins to lather himself up in strawberry-scented bodywash.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jimin starts, but his voice sounds weirdly stilted and unlike him.

“Mm?”

“My, um, my…” He lets out a light cough, avoiding your gaze with an air of forced aloofness. “Granny keeps asking about you. She’s convinced we’re dating, but that’s, uh, I’ve assured her we aren’t. She really liked you, and whenever we chat she asks to speak to you, and, um…”

You feel more coherent than you have in a good couple hours, sitting upright. “She does?”

Jimin laughs ruefully. “I never really knew how to ask you if you wanted to speak to her, or if I should even ask you at all-”

“So you thought now, while we’re both naked in a tub after you fucking my brains out is the right time?”

Jimin’s cheeks colour more as he splutters. “You can say no, I just didn’t want you to… I don’t know. You can say no.”

You beam at him. “I have one rule.”

“What?”

“I’ll hang out with Mrs. Park on one condition.”

The blue-haired boy stares at you warily. “Which is?”

You lean forward with a deadpan expression on your face, making him grimace in worry. “You let me sleep in your bed tonight,” you explain gravely, “I’m running out of options for this Bangasm Bomb thingy, and it’s only fair after you just took me out of commission like that.”

Jimin laughs in relief, throwing his head back with a joyous grin. “Deal! Don’t scare me like that.”

You return his smile, heart swelling from the fondness you hold for him. “Of course I’ll chat with your grandma, Jimin. I love her. She reminds me of you a lot.”

You may have said too much, but Jimin goes lax against the opposite end of the tub, smile never leaving his lips, and you don’t regret it for a second.

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 14

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 14

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1976

Summary: Once more, a moment at the bar shifts the relationship between Sam and the reader irrevocably. 

Warnings: angst, FLUFF, swearing, s l o w  b u r n, this section has a little gentle smut 

           It was sweet, actually, taking things slowly enough that Sam didn’t feel an acute sense of betraying Dean. You started kissing in stolen moments like teenagers, accidentally honking the horn of the Impala before taking over from the day shift and walking in shyly with swollen lips and mussed hair, tasting the orange juice off of his lips after breakfast.

           Never more than that save a fumbled glancing grope here or there, Sam sometimes having to break away for a long walk in the brisk winter air before going to sleep with you at night, you taking extended showers to deal with the building tension. He simply wasn’t ready, and the additional closeness was already so much more than you’d had anyway, almost too much stimulation to handle. Not that it really made sense to you, that this was somehow different in his mind, but it didn’t matter.

           Dean came to you in your dreams with increasing regularity. He started teaching you how to go to places you hadn’t been, or hadn’t been with him, slowly reconstructing the bar and the cabin so you could show him around your new life. Sam had been right, of course, and Dean did love the bar as you showed it to him, scuffed floors and ever-present stickiness of the cash register included.

           It felt pretty real. And who’s to say it wasn’t, because it was really Dean and it was really you, the whiskey really poured and made his lips taste peaty like they always had. More than that, it was enough. You were able to relish your time together, drink Dean in while you slept feeling less desperate knowing that you’d see him again soon. The days got easier too, waking up warm inside from Dean and outside from the firm protection of Sam’s body. Neither Winchester ever told you what they did or talked about in their time together, but Sam got looser and looser. You had almost forgotten how goofy he could be, how enthusiastic and fun he was Before Everything, but the longer he spent dreaming with Dean the more he reminded you of that guy—the affectionate, quick-witted boy you’d split cans of Spaghetti-o’s with at Bobby’s a lifetime ago.  

           Going to work felt like a little game sometimes. Periodically one of the customers would comment on the way Sam always seemed to wait until you were right in front of the fruit before going to refill it so he had to press the length of his body against yours. Often you’d have to help him finish his side work before closing up together, having hung off him all night in a way that prevented him from getting everything done until it was just the two of you together in the darkened bar cutting up limes as your shoulders brushed against each other. The regulars thought you were finally comfortable enough to show them a little PDA, that you’d been secretly like this all along, and there was no other explanation you could give them. Like everything else, you rolled with their assumptions and got that same giddy-hot feeling in your chest and throat every time they said it—like you were being teased about some juvenile crush.

           The Wednesday it finally happened you were having a normal day at work, catching those little jabs after Sam snaked a bottle opener out of your back pocket while you rattled a shaker of martinis. He kissed your hair with a smirk when he passed by you, carefully not jostling your arms as you poured the drinks into chilled glassware. When you went to refill Joe’s pint of Spotted Cow, you noticed the tap start to stutter and foam the last dregs of an empty keg and raised your head to tell Sam it was out.

           He was leaning on his elbow, ankles crossed where the long stretch of his body met the floor and talking to Jake, clearly telling some joke from the way Jake cracked up and gave him that snapping handshake men often exchange instead of hugs. The smile on his face was just smug enough to show he knew whatever he’d said was funny, and more than anything he looked relaxed, looked comfortable. Looked like he belonged there, the reflection off green glassed whiskey bottles making his eyes seem lit from within. You decided to change the beer yourself and leave him in peace; the bar was slow enough that he could handle it alone for a few minutes, limited cocktail experience or not.

           Every time you went into the basement at work to change a keg you were amazed that Sam even fit in the room where they were stored; it was back at the end of the walk-in cooler with ceilings so low even you felt claustrophobic there. Aluminum kegs in varied states of fullness stacked by their respective lines, marked by stickers and tags of indeterminate ages, were in a sort of half-organization around the walls. Based on how fast Sam changed them when one went empty, you were pretty sure he would know instinctively which ones were which, but as it was you had to climb around the makeshift aluminum jungle gym to trace each looping hose back to its source. You finally found the empty Spotted Cow and the line that would tie it to its respective tap in the corner. To get there you’d had to hop on top of two others, one foot on a fresh Bud Light and the other on some Coors while your spine curved to avoid hitting your head on the ceiling. Unfastening the tap from the empty keg, you yanked back to tug it off and slipped on some extra moisture on top of the metal. It sent you off balance enough that you grabbed at the tubing at the end of the tap you were holding in an effort to stay on your feet.

           The hose pulled out of the line system and sprayed the rest of the beer within all over the room and you, brown ale getting in your mouth and eyes and sending you careening to the ground, tugging the empty keg on top of you with a huge clatter. You rolled it off of you, thanking God it was empty, and tried not to think too hard about the age of the beer remnant mixture leeching off the cement floor into your t shirt as you got up. By the time you got back to your feet, Sam was standing in the doorway, slightly out of breath with a look of concern on his face.

           “Are you okay? What happened?” he asked, surveying the scene.

           You still had the keg tap and hose in your hand, completely detached from the wall. “I was going to change the Spotted Cow but I couldn’t reach the back so I had to climb and then I…slipped.” Sam’s face smoothed in relief when he saw the smile spreading across your face. “And broke it.”

           “But you’re okay?”

           “Probably going to have a pretty kickass bruise tomorrow and I’m covered in beer but yeah, I’m okay. Sorry I pulled it out; do you know how to fix it?”

           Sam smiled, his dimples carving into his cheeks. “I’ll figure it out.”

           You pouted around your embarrassment and sheepishly handed him the tap. “I should probably get back upstairs,” you offered, shaking your wet shirt away from your body.

           “I’m, uh, I’m ready.” Sam murmured, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

           “Do you need me to go get tools or something?”

           “No—I mean, like, ready.” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully and the emphasis crashed into you hard enough that it almost sent you careening back into the kegs.

           “Ready ready?” you breathed, sounding stupid and not caring, wanting to bound over and leap into Sam’s arms.

           “Ready read—” and Sam was cut off by your lips on his, taking a sharp inhale against your cheek as he kissed you. After a beat of electric shock Sam twined into the hair at the nape of your neck, his fingers hot from washing dishes and soothing in the air of the cooler. You slid down the soft flannel of his shirt and wrapped up fistfuls of it, desperate to have him closer, closer, closer, feel the firm slopes of his body when you weren’t sleeping. He groaned into you and it sent a shudder down your spine as you slipped down the edge of his jaw to kiss along the broad expanse of his neck, tendons squirming under your lips and the thrum of his blood pumping fast and hard.

           Sam moved a hand to your lower back and bent down to scoop under a hamstring, gently but swiftly lifting and spinning so you were pressed up against the doorframe by his body, hitched up in the air to better reach his face. You gasped and felt Sam’s smile against your mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist and greedily roaming the muscles in his chest as they flexed to carry you. The way the wall pinned you to Sam made it so easy to rock into him, feel the metal of his belt buckle through the worn cotton of your jeans and the heat seep through his shirt into the sticky beer drying on yours. “I—oh fuck—” Sam stammered between kisses as you rolled your hips, trying to balance the need to catch his breath with the pent-up magnetism between you. “We have—Jesus Christ, ah—there are customers upstairs,” he finally spit out.

           That zapped you back to reality, finally breaking away to press your forehead against his. “Fuck,” you moaned. A long second passed, sharing air between you and Sam as he held you suspended. “Do we care?” you murmured hopefully against closed eyes, smiling.

           Sam chuckled, breathy and low as he lowered you to the ground softly. “Unless you have another way of paying rent.”

           You gently knocked your head into Sam’s chest. “Man, couldn’t sit on that for a few more hours? How am I supposed to work the rest of the night?”

           He ran his tongue over his molars as he grabbed the tap from where it had fallen to the ground, accepting the gentle teasing. “I just—I don’t know, you were just standing there and it all kind of—it just made sense all of a sudden.”

           “The stale beer did it for you? If I knew that I would’ve broken all of the lines ages ago.” You bit your lip against your smile, suddenly a little bashful and exposed and feeling every drying drop of beer across your chest.

           “I um, might have another t-shirt in the car if you want me to check.”

           “Thanks. I can get it though, can I have the keys?”

           Sam snaked a hand into his pocket and you could see the muscles in his forearm ripple as he grabbed them for you. He handed the keys over, his face open and vulnerable even with the hint of smirk. Tapping the keys against the doorframe you stalled for time, wanting more than anything to have even just an hour without responsibilities. You reached out and stroked his arm. “You’re sure about this? It’s okay if you’re—”

           Sam’s head bobbed quickly. “Yeah. Yes, I’m sure.” He looked solemn, resolute in a way that reassured you. “I’m sorry it took—”

           “Nothing to be sorry about. I just wanted to check.”

           He closed the step between you, tucking a chunk of hair behind your ear and gazing down into your eyes. “I know. And thank you for that.” He kissed you on the forehead, grinning into your hair. “Now go change, you smell like a frat party.”

           You pushed playfully against his chest and made your way upstairs, leaving him smiling at your back as you walked away.

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 15

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Eighteen: Faith 

A/N: This is the Eighteenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-18 can also be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below or send me a message if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 4199

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

The rapping of knuckles against the old oak door echoed throughout the potions master's office. Breaking through the thick silence that had engulfed the room, a wave of anxiety washed over Severus Snape.

"Can I not go one day without you bothering me, Miss Dumbledore." Snape complained, trying to hide slight crack of nervousness in his voice.

"Sadly, Severus, it is not your beloved Miss Dumbledore." A thick Bulgarian accent announced.

Admittedly disappointed by the unveiling of his visitor, Severus lowered himself back down into his chair, not willing to make an effort for anyone but his apprentice.

"Why are you here, Igor. You should have learned your lesson by now to leave me alone." He said, rubbing his eyes back into focus and running a hand through his hair lazily.

"I have something you'll want to hear." Karkaroff divulged mysteriously, plopping himself down on the chair across from the professor.

"I do not imagine anything you have to say is of any interest to me."

"Then lucky for you Snape, I won't be the one talking."

Unbothered by the man's deliberate awkwardness, Severus allowed him to ramble on, too exhausted to argue with him.

With a flick of his wand and a small puff off smoke, the space between the two men began to whirl and spin, slowly forming a picture-like image in the air, the scene beginning to unfold. Revealing a staff room full of unusually dressed professors, the focus turned to a small cluster of teachers gathered in the centre of the room. Recognising both Igor Karkaroff and Aria Dumbledore sitting side by side on the old couch, Snape grew suspicious of the man's intentions.

"Why are you showing me this?" Severus asked, unsure of whether he wanted to see what was about to happen.

"Just listen." The Durmstrang headmaster hissed.

~

"How do I feel about Snape?" Aria wondered, the scene enclosing in on her.

"He's... curious. He has the capacity for love and friendship just like the rest of us, yet he chooses to be mean-spirited."

~

"I don't want to hear this." Snape declared, turning his eyes away from the woman.

"You must." Igor demanded.

~

"...he can be mean and arrogant and cruel. And despite it all I try my best to show him kindness, but where does that get me? He calls me out in front of practically the whole school? That was so fucking humiliating, and I'm just supposed to forgive him? I think it's safe to say I'd live a happy life if I were to never see that man again."

~

Severus felt his heart drop in his chest, unable to process what he had just heard. Slowly a sharp ringing in his ears grew louder and louder, deafening him to the scene before him, as well as the reality in which he existed. He refused to believe the woman he cared so much about, the woman who had demanded to be his friend, had lied about everything. Did she truly hate him beneath her annoyingly cheerful demeanour, was it all a façade?

He wanted to insist Karkaroff had fabricated the whole thing, but he knew exactly what spell he had cast, there was no way he could have faked it.

A deep rage grew within the man, an anger he had not felt in a number of decades. Severus Snape prided himself on having a monotone disposition, void of all emotion. But that familiar feeling of being betrayed by someone he trusted brought forward a plethora of pent up emotions, namely anger and frustration.

A wide, devilish grin spread across Karkaroff's face, satisfied by his colleague's reaction.

"You see now what she is truly like, Severus. You see now that she was playing you all along. That girl pretends to be your friend to keep her job, not because she likes you." Igor laughed maliciously. "You and I both know what is coming, and when it does, Dumbledore is prepared to replace you. Even he knows where your true loyalties lie. Do not be fooled into thinking the Dumbledore's are your friends. They use you for their own advantage, but the second you are no longer useful, or you become a threat to them, you'll be taken down by any means necessary."

"You're lying." Snape tried to convince himself, refusing to meet the professors gaze. "You're scared of what he will do to you if he returns. You need an alliance with someone on the inside."

"He has returned, you must feel it just as I do." The ex-deatheater practically screamed.

"I will not be manipulated by you Igor. This changes nothing, the girl was nothing but a distraction."

"We both know that isn't true." He sniggered, attempting once last time to convince Snape. "Do you know what she said to me, the last time I was in this office? She told me she could never be with a man like you, she told me your actions were unforgivable. I can prove that as well if you don't believe me."

"Get out, Igor. Just leave." Severus exhaled, starting to pace slowly behind his desk. He knew Karkaroff was trying to manipulate him, he was not stupid enough to fall for that. But proof does not lie, and the facts remain. Everything he was saying true, there was no denying it.

With a short bow, Igor danced out of the room. Completely satisfied with the havoc he'd reeked. He'd successfully toyed with what little emotions the great dungeon bat had left. And who's to say what can happen when Severus Snape's feelings get hurt?

*

Hoot. Hoot.

The bird bleated as it swooped through the open window.

"Another letter for the pile?" Aria sighed to herself. "Will he ever stop?"

Whoo.

It purred in response.

The witch couldn't help but laugh at the coincidence.

"You know exactly who." She giggled, plucking the envelope from the creatures beak, and throwing it on the ever growing pile.

"I just wish he would give me some time to think, you know?" She asked turning back to the barn owl, only to witness it taking off, disappearing into the distance.

Look at me. I'm talking to a bird. She thought with a roll of her eyes. I need to get some sleep.

Catching a glimpse of herself reflection of the window, Aria decided she needed to freshen herself up with a little pamper time, finishing the day off with a very long and well deserved nap.

Dumping almost a whole bottle of bubble bath into the tub, topping with springs of lavender and dried chamomile, Aria plunged herself deep into the warm water.

Relaxing for approximately 2.5 seconds, the woman flew out of the bath, her naked body sopping with bubbles, dripping puddles of water as she explored her quarters impatiently.

"Why can I never find any of my books when I need them most!" She groaned, shivering from the sudden change in temperature as goose bumps formed all over her arms and legs.

Letting out a single yelp of excitement, Aria grabbed the first book she laid eyes on and dived back into her tub.

"Pride and Prejudice, of course." She mumbled, thinking back to that night Severus visited her quarters.

As she read and her mind wandered, Aria found herself making unconscious comparisons between the infamous, brooding Mr. Darcy, and her stern, yet lovable Potions mentor, Severus Snape. They were both mildly rude and arrogant, determined to never show their true emotions, but deep down it was quite possible that they loved more fiercely than anyone ever could.

Elizabeth Bennet enchanted Darcy mind, body and soul. If only there were someone brave enough to do the same to Professor Snape. Aria thought, as she allowed herself to drift off to sleep in the water.

Hours later a thunderously loud 'Bang' frightened Aria awake.

Although not positively sure of how much later it was, she could be certain a decent sleep was had given the icy temperature of the water.

Aria allowed herself a moment to come to, bracing herself against the cold, her was body aching from the ceramic constraints of the tub.

A series of bangs came this time, chapping very loudly on her chamber door. Who ever it was was clearly extremely impatient, forcing her to hurry herself up.

Wrapping herself in nothing but a white cotton towel, the witch slid her way through her rooms to the door. Clearly she wasn't even awake enough to remember where she was, and that answering her door half naked wasn't exactly professional.

Bang. Bang. BANG.

The knocks reverberated through her body, sending shivers down her spine.

Gingerly she opened the door, revealing a more than pissed off Severus Snape.

"Severus." She yawned. "What's wrong?"

"Don't act dumb with me, girl. I am not falling for this act any longer." He snapped.

"What act, Severus? Why are you here?"

"Just tell me why?" He seethed. "Why did go to so much trouble trying to convince me to be your friend, only to confess to Karkaroff, as well as the rest of the Hogwarts staff, your true feelings. Why couldn't you just leave me alone."

"Severus listen, I think we need to talk about this in private. Please come in."

"So you can try and seduce me again? I don't think so. Jesus, look at the state of you, are you really that desperate to entice me? What's next, showing up to dinner completely naked? You really are just as I thought." The potions master growled, his pitch back eyes looking her up and down.

"Severus stop" Aria begged. "I thought we had moved past all this."

"So did I. But considering you have deemed me as "unforgivable" then there doesn't appear to be much point in trying to redeem myself, does there?"

"But you're only going to make everything worse. Let me explain myself, please."

"There is nothing to explain, I shall be putting in a formal request for the headmaster to employ a separate tutor for your apprenticeship in the morning, so you never have to see me again."

The professor stormed off, just as quickly as he had arrived, achieving exactly what he had come to do; humiliate Aria Dumbledore.

Desperate to apologise for her cruel words, Aria made to follow Severus to his classroom.

Forgetting her attire, or rather lack of, she was soon reminded of it when a crowd of Slytherin students erupted in a fit laughter with its fair share of cat-calls and whistles. Clearly they had emerged from their common room to investigate the noise, but stayed for the show of the two arguing potions professors.

"Nice legs, Miss." One of the older boys called, sending a wink in her direction.

Shit. She mumbled under her breath, rushing back to her quarters to change.

Hair still dripping wet, Aria shoved it into a bun on top of her head and pulled on some shorts and an oversized t-shirt, before hunting down the potions master.

"Severus, open the door." She called, upon initially finding it to be locked.

He didn't even bother to reply.

Fine. She thought. I'll do it myself.

"Alohomora." The lock burst apart, allowing the door to slowly creep open, revealing a dishevelled and distressed professor sitting at his desk.

"Severus, please." She whispered softly, realising he had clearly come down from his short outburst of rage.

"Get out." He commanded, though he didn't make any effort to remove his head from his hands.

"Let's talk about this." The woman pleaded, pulling a chair up next to the man. "Let me explain everything."

Snape stirred from his position the closer she came, until finally he was able to look her in the eye.

"Go on." He droned. His eyes red and blood shot, whether it was from lack of sleep or tears was unclear.

"You know more than anyone that Karkaroff cannot be trusted-"

"Don't try and lie to me, Miss Dumbledore. I saw the whole thing with my own eyes." Snape snapped.

"Will you let me finish. I'm not lying to you, Severus." Aria promised. "I said what I said because I didn't want them to know the truth, Karkaroff especially. I don't know what his problem is but I know he's up to something and it involves you. You really think I'd answer any question he asked me truthfully. You're my friend, Severus, I care about you, and that man is a snake for trying to turn us against each other."

"Why should I believe you. I've barely known you a few months, I've known Igor decades."

"That is precisely why you should believe me. He's not your friend, Severus. If he was he'd be able to see the real you; the man behind the mask." She urged, begging for his trust.

Reaching out her hand to take his, Aria stroked a thumb over the cold and calloused hand of her friend.

"And who might that be?" Severus questioned in return, feeling slightly nervous under her touch, but not enough to want to pull away.

"A man." She stated simply. "Not a beast, as you and many others may presume. A good, and decent man. Perhaps he's a even a little bit scared, of what I'm not entirely sure yet. But I will find out one day, if you'll allow me, that is. Let me be your friend, Severus. Let me see what you hide from everyone else. And I promise, I'll be there for you when it matters most."

Her sweet soft tones encapsulated Severus. He had become so lost in her words and her touch that without realising he found himself falling for her speech wholeheartedly. He even risked settling his remaining hand upon hers, clasping her delicate fist between his palms.

"Well then I suppose an apology is in order. I believe I may have acted rather rash and unprofessional."

"There's really no need. You reacted just as you should have to the things you heard. I would have done the same thing in your circumstance." Aria admitted, removing her hand from his, as she made to stand up. "Though there is one thing you could do to make it up to me." She suggested.

"Dare I even ask?" Severus joked.

"I want to know what Karkaroff's after. Tell me how you know him. Why does he care so much about your life?"

Snape practically laughed in response.

"We may be friends now, Miss Dumbledore, but I'm afraid that information is rather personal. And I am not convinced we are quite at that stage in our friendship, just yet."

"I respect that." She shrugged, knowing he wasn't about to give in that easily. "I suppose that just means we'll have to get to know each other a bit more." She smiled almost ear to ear at the prospect.

*

"What do you have planned for your lesson today, Professor Dumbledore?" Severus queried, finally using the woman's rightful professional title.

"Ooooh 'Professor' now, am I?" She smirked, sashaying in front of her co-worker, balancing a handful of potion ingredients in her arms.

"I suppose that is your given title after all, I might as well start using it."

"Hmmm I'm not sure. I think it make's me sound too much like my grandfather. I'm not sure I could pull of the beard quite as well, what do you think?" She giggled, holding her long hair in front of her chin, imitating the old wizard playfully before clumsily dropping another dozen bottles on the table.

Severus tried his hardest to conceal his smile, busying himself with paper work, but however hard he tried he could not hide it from Aria. Every so often she managed to catch him off guard, with a silly joke, or a quick witted comment, in those rare times he allowed himself a glimmer of emotion she always managed to notice. Most of the time Severus found himself smiling at the woman for no reason other than she was simply smiling too.

Finally turning her attention away from the potions master, Aria finished setting up her table full of small bottles and vials.

"We're going to play a game." She announced cheerfully spinning on her heel.

"A game?" Severus asked, unable to stop himself turning his nose up at her idea.

"Yes. It's like a test, but more fun." She persuaded, sensing his judgement.

"And what, might I ask, is wrong with a traditional test."  He queried bitterly.

"The students need motivation, Severus. The word 'test' makes people nervous. With nervousness comes panic, and with panic comes mistakes. Fear is not an accurate motivator, however competition is. The students will be less inclined to make mistakes, if they are rewarded for their efforts." The apprentice hypothesised.

"And this reward is?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes, but allowed her to do her thing uninterrupted.

Since their little 'heart to heart' that night in Snape's office the two professors were finding working with each other a lot more amiable. Severus had given Aria a little more free reign with her portion of the lessons, which in turn, allowed her to respect Severus' strict theoretical practices without causing too many interruptions. The pair had almost started to enjoy working together.

Student by student the class trickled in, each of them intrigued by the new set up of the class room.

"Everyone please take your seats, do not touch the table at the front of the room, class will begin momentarily." Miss Dumbledore announced.

A moment of panic set in as Aria scrambled around Snape's desk, looking for her list of possible potions. This may not have been her first time teaching solo, but it was, however, her opportunity to prove her practices are successful in front of her mentor, Severus Snape. The man in question could see the fear in her eyes, and that she was desperate to impress.

"Here." He mouthed, handing her the piece of parchment. "Relax."

Brushing fingers, as she took the parchment from him, Aria grinned.

"Thank you." She whispered, once again turning to face the class, now with a little more confidence.

"Now today, as you may have guessed, we are going to do something a little different. Professor Snape and I have chosen to take this opportunity to allow you, our promising young N.E.W.Ts students, to show off your skill set to the best of your ability's. On this table in front of me you will find a select variety of potions ingredients that correspond to a number of potions all very much within your capability, your task is to complete one of these potions within the allotted time, at the end of which, a winner will be selected by us."

"What do we win then, professor?" One eager student asked.

"A potion of their choice." She declared, impulsively.

A murmer of chatter instantly broke out among the class, intrigued at the prospect of winning such a thing.

"That all sounds very exciting, Miss Dumbledore." Snape cut in, unwilling to take a backseat quite so easily. "However, sadly as an apprentice professor you are not permitted to take anything from my stores to use so frivolously. The prize will have to be decided at a later time."

Unsurprisingly the students weren't too pleased with Snape's intervention causing for a series of disappointed groans and heckles.

"Then I shall make it myself." Aria concluded.

Another bout of cheers erupted.

"Collect your ingredients, light up your cauldrons, your time starts now!"

Immediately the students jumped from their seats, swarming the table to get what they needed. The professors moved away from the crowd, giving the class a moment to get started.

"Miss Dumbledore, this is not a wise decision." Severus spoke in hushed tones. "I understand entirely the prize of a potion chosen by you, but to give them a choice could be extremely dangerous, think of the chaos that will ensue."

"How about you have a little faith in them for once. Trust that they will make the right decision."

Looking down on the woman, Severus couldn't help but trust she would be right.

"I have faith in you. Not in them." He made clear.

Severus made to walk away, leaving Aria to relish in her small victory, until he was suddenly pulled back by the young woman's hand in his. Not saying a word, Aria Dumbledore gave him an appreciative squeeze, before releasing him back to his desk.

The first hour of the classes passed by effortlessly, the students worked quietly and Severus found no reason to complain. All in all, Aria was quite pleased with how her lesson was going.

That was until...

"Oh shiiiiit."

"Language Mr. Lawrence." Severus warned, briefly looking up from his marking.

"Right, sorry sir. But what the fuck am I supposed to do when this thing starts bubbling like crazy." He freaked out, completely ignoring the potions master's warning.

"What?" Aria gasped, only just becoming aware of the situation.

"Yeah like this thing looks likes 'bout to blow, to be honest with you." The seventh year Hufflepuff boy informed nonchalantly.

"Step away from that cauldron students, quickly!" Aria ordered, ushering them to the sides of the classroom.  "You were attempting a wit-sharpening potion, is that correct?"

"Yup."

"I'm afraid there's no saving it now, Mr. Lawrence, the best we can hope for is that it does not turn to acid and burn through bench."

"Out of my way." Severus huffed impatiently, forcing his way through the crowd of students that had formed around the cauldron.

"Pass me that root of ginger" Snape demanded, positioning himself in front of the ever growing cauldron of bubbling green liquid. Aria obeyed hastily, as the professor performed what she could only describe as a miracle on this horrifying concoction. "Some more newt spleens." He requested, holding out a hand expectantly, while the other gripped onto his wand, casting an enchantment over the potion.

The potions master continued adding a bit of this and a dash of that to the potion, all ingredients Aria Dumbledore would never have considered to associate with this particular brew. Jars of herbs, spices and animal parts were passed through the classroom in order to reach Professor Snape who continuously stirred the potion, muttering all sorts of charms and spells.

However skilled Aria had assumed she was at the art of potion making, it was made clear to her that she was no match for Severus' skills, brewing potions was second nature to him now. Within minutes he had achieved what Aria Dumbledore had deemed impossible, and thus the potion was brought back to it's natural state.

"Severus..." The apprentice gawped. "That was amazing."

"That was nothing." He replied curtly, removing himself from the scene. "Everybody back to work, this is not an excuse to slack off."

Still in awe at the pure artistry she had witnessed, Aria trotted sheepishly back to the front of the class.

Blissfully unaware of the pure talent they had just seen, the students continued on with their work. The Hufflepuff boy did not even have the decency to thank his professor for salvaging the mess he called a potion, let alone be grateful he never received a detention, or deduction of house points.

"What are you staring at, Miss Dumbledore, is there no better way you can spend your time?"

"I'm sorry Severus, but that display was just... brilliant." She beamed.

"Like I said, it was nothing. It comes with the job, I refuse to have any of those delinquents burn through my entire store cupboard because they cannot brew a simple potion, a year below their level no less."

"Well, at least we know who definitely won't be winning anyway." Aria giggled.

"The most we can hope for from that boy is that he manages to finish his potion, god knows he'll need it."

Playfully slapping Snape on the arm for his cheek, the witch perched herself on the edge of the professor's desk, attempting a quick sketch on a scrap piece of parchment, while the students begun to finish off their potions.

"Professor Snape, the winner?" Aria asked, turning to her colleague for a verdict once all of the potions had been completed.

"You want me to choose?" Severus replied, skeptical of her offer.

"Of course. I don't think it would be fair of me to do it, considering I've been giving all of them tips this lesson."

"Very well." He droned, stepping forth to analyse the contents of the cauldrons.

"This one." He announced, pointing a single finger to the cauldron of a young Slytherin witch. "Given that it was the only potion brewed to complete perfection, there is no other possible candidate. I suggest the rest of you get studying before your N.E.W.T's exams, at the rate you lot are going, none of you besides Miss Johnstone here is likely to pass." Snape scolded.

"Well then, congratulations Miss Johnstone, you are the winner of a potion of your choice. See me after lessons tomorrow and let me know your decision."

The girl practically beamed with pride, expecting nothing less than first place.

"Class dismissed."

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel @lizlil

[mrsalwayswrite]

Murder Is Not On The Schedule (Ron Speirs x Reader)

So this is loosely based on a prompt I found on Pinterest about murder not being on today’s schedule and immediately thought SPEIRS! I also wasn’t feeling great this week so I wanted to write something lighthearted...ya know? So this is what my brain came up with. 

Warnings: some swearing, sexual tension (cuz i can’t seem to write Speirs without it...sorry?), my poor attempts at humor

Words:2500

Tag List: @happyveday​ @sydney-m​ @saritanotserena​

  The sound of mortars and 88s followed me as I walked into the room being used for Captain Speirs' office in Haguenau. Those same sounds should be terrifying but no one flinched anymore thanks to Bastogne. The office was in the back of Easy HQ, looking towards the river. All the walls and windows were still intact, even if the place was dreary and drafty, it fulfilled its purpose. 

 Speirs, who had been staring out the window in parade rest, turned around to lean back against the window and looked over at me. "Lip in bed?"

 "Yeah. Finally convinced him that I could handle it." I dropped down onto one of the two chairs. Both chairs were placed at the table which occupied the center of the room. 

 Lipton was an admirable man, second only to Winters himself. But Christ Almighty, he had to be the worst patient with his perpetual refusal to rest. I did not envy any of the medics who were diligently trying to take care of him. It pretty much took both myself and Luz to drag him to one of the cots in the back and me swearing in blood that if I needed help, I would find him. 

 And if I threatened him a little, no one needs to know, right?

 "Well, I appreciate you stepping up and taking over for Lipton while he is sick."

 I shrugged, already looking at all the paperwork spread out on the table. "He kept us together while in Bastogne. It's the least I can do. Besides, I used to be a secretary before joining up. It's not a problem."

 "Lucky us." He murmured, distractedly. One of his hands tapped a repetitive pattern on his thigh as he seemed to stare at nothing. 

 I knew there was to be a patrol tonight. A prisoner snatch. From what little I had overheard and observed, it weighed heavily on both Lipton and Speirs. My guess was all the names had not been chosen yet on who had to go. Glancing at Speirs, eyebrows furrowed just slightly, repetitive tapping, biting just the inside corner of his lip...he was working on the list in his head. 

 I could not help it as my eyes traced his jawline...his messy hair that looked so damn soft...those dark eyes that pierce your soul but also lit up like a beacon when amused. He looked like a rugged, dirty Greek god with an affinity for bloodlust. Even his hands looked perfect to hold my--

 You are here to help. NOT OGLE YOUR CO! 

 Even if he is pretty.

 Handsome?

 Gorgeous?

 Wet dream worthy?

 Whoa! Too much. Pull up, you buffoon! 

 With all my willpower, I turned back to focus on organizing the reports on the table and checking to make sure we had enough paper. Who knew the army used so much paperwork? Everything had to be documented. I could see why it seemed Winters never left his office...or Nixon. Without Lipton's help, I doubted Speirs would ever see his men. I absent-mindedly wondered if I should offer to help out more often. 

 Obviously out of the goodness of my heart and not to ogle the handsome devil currently before me. 

 Nope. 

 Several minutes later, there was a knock on the door. After Speirs bid them enter, two replacements stepped into the room. Their ODs were clean, helmets practically sparkled in the sunlight, eagerness written all over their faces. They did not carry the weariness from the Ardennes on their shoulders. They still looked like boys wanting to play soldier with the other neighborhood kids. All I could figure was they had gotten dropped off with the other soldiers returning from the hospital. 

 Both rapidly saluted Speirs, who only lazily saluted in response, still leaning against the window. 

 "Captain, sir." The shorter of the two spoke first, practically bouncing on his toes. "We were wondering if we'd see some action soon."

 The other one chimed in, a proud smile exaggerating his chubby cheeks. "Yeah, we heard a rumor there's a patrol. Sir, we're ready to get our rifles dirty by killing Krauts, sir."

 Christ. These two are greener than the Jolly Green Giant. 

 I quickly muffled a snort by turning it into a cough. It must have not been as subtle as I hoped with the side-eye Speirs gave me. 

 Speirs sighed, crossing his arms across his chest. "Your platoon leader will let you know. I suggest you head back to your OP… and try not to get hit by mortars or snipers on your way there."

 The two glanced at one another, seeming to remember that Nazis were just as likely to kill them. A necessary reminder. After another round of salutes, they hurried out and closed the door behind them.

 "Jesus Christ! If I hear those two asking about killing Krauts again, I'll shoot them both…. And murder wasn't on my agenda today."

 "Murder usually isn't on anyone's agenda." I murmured, making notes on a supply list. We definitely needed more ammo...and chocolate bars. There might be a mutiny if we did not receive more chocolate bars and cigarettes. 

 "No, it's on mine. Just not until Thursday."

 Wait….

 ...What?

 My head whipped up to stare at Speirs. I honestly was unsure if he was joking or serious. I mean, hell, we all knew the rumors about him. With his signature serious expression, he held my gaze, as if waiting for me to question him. I chose not to. Really, I believed him. He would be the one to throw a grenade near his men to get them to pay attention. Or get bored and sneak into the enemy's camp to steal their rifles or something just to mess with them.  

 Then I saw the twitch of his lips, forcing back a smile. 

 At that I laughed, shaking my head. "No offense, sir, but I think we need to find something better for you to do with your time."

 "Oh?" He tipped his head slightly, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Like what?" 

 Me.

 Shit. Don't say that aloud. 

 "Mmm…" I tapped my lip with my finger, pretending to think about it. "Preferably something other than terrorizing your men."

 "Ah, but it's fun. You should join me."

 I shook my head, not even trying to suppress the indulgent smile on my face. What had my life become? Here I was joking with CAPTAIN SPEIRS about committing murder…. for fun? Later I should question my sanity, but right now, I was more than amused to see him in this new lightheartedness. I had only ever seen him always stoic, poised, ready for anything in war. I found this new side of him only increased his attractiveness. 

 Damn it. 

 "What are you doing on Thursday?" He probed, still watching me with a hawk-like gaze. 

 I shrugged my shoulders, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. If he was going to joke around, I felt I could return the favor. "Maybe I'm going on a date."

 "With who?"

 "Whoever can afford me, I guess."

 He laughed, widening my own smile. I had never heard him laugh before, and if I could admit it to myself, the world was missing out without that sound. He shoved off the window, to come sit on the corner of the table, one leg dangling off the side, almost touching the chair I sat on. "And what would a date with you consist of?"

 I thought back to before the war. Back before I was weighed down by pain and death. What my life had once entailed. "An elegant dinner at the best restaurant around. Pictures or dancing afterwards. I'm not picky. Then after all that, if I had a very good time, I might be tempted to bring him back to my apartment for some late-night drinks and, well, we'd see where it went from there. But don't tell my mother that last part."

 "Sounds like you've got it all planned out."

 "I'm a lady who knows what she wants."

 "Mmm…" He ran a hand over the stubble growing on his jaw. "I need to change my schedule for Thursday now."

 This information you are trying to process does not compute. Please try again.

 "You taking me out on the date?" I teased back, leaning back slightly in my chair. Mentally, I prepared for him to make a joke about killing whomever was taking me out for the company's sake or something along those lines, since the idea of him having interest in me was preposterous. 

 In one swift move, he shifted over so his leg was between mine allowing him to lean forward and hover over me. The air between us suddenly felt hot compared to the rest of the room. Those dark eyes scanned me, as if slowly undressing me with both the utmost care but also unbridled passion. "Yes. Though we might have to skip with the elegant dinner. I'll share the better parts of the K rations. We also might need to skip the pictures or dancing. But I am positive I can steal some of Nixon's Vat 69 and we can go straight to the late-night drinks. Of course, I'll be a gentleman and let the lady decide what happens after." He finished with a cocky wink at me. 

 Holy mother of-

 I was not ready for that. 

 I could only stare at him for a long moment. My body practically throbbed for him with the image he painted in my mind. The way his voice became so smooth and sensual. The peak of his tongue as he quickly licked his lips before speaking. Now he sat there, his leg dangling between mine, keeping me glued to my seat. Subtly, I tried to press my thighs together to alleviate some of the pressure building. Not that it helped with his intense gaze making my heart beat faster and his lazy smile telling me he KNEW the effect he was having on me. 

 Act cool. 

 Act cool! 

 Play it off! 

 I leaned forward, smirking. "Do you always offer to take your executive officers out on a date? If so, I can see why Lipton likes you so much."

 He chuckled, eyes alluring and heated. "No, not all of them. Just the ones that I've been admiring for some time." 

 Well shit. 

 Abort. 

 Abort! 

 Don't you dare, you've dreamed about this man before. Ride it out, you coward! 

 I blinked in surprise but before I could respond, he had already made his move. He leaned forward and braced his hands on the arms of my chair, hovering over me. His face now was only inches from mine. I was positive he could hear how fast my heart was beating. My lips parted, trying to encourage breath into my lungs that were struggling to send oxygen to my brain. His eyes drifted down to my lips and lingered there. As if in compliance, my own eyes glanced at his lips, how soft they looked, even slightly chapped still from our time in Bastogne. His hands slid ever so slowly further up the arms of the chair, stopping just next to my elbows. Now I could see the faint lines around his eyes. His hair slipped forward, calling my eyes upward. I struggled to not reach forward and touch it. To see how it felt with my fingers running through it. A soft chuckle had my eyes snapped back to his, as he watched me with an intensity that border-lined frightening and lascivious. 

 I gulped. "Captain Speirs…"

 "No," he just barely ran the tip of his nose over the shell of my ear. His hot breath caressed my skin. My eyes fluttered closed on their own accord; my body unable to handle the pleasurable sensation. He whispered into my ear, voice fully commanding and salacious. "No, you call me Ron when we're alone."

 Mission control. We are going down. I repeat we are going down in flames! 

 My underwear was not prepared for this! 

 "Ron." I liked the way his name rolled off my lips. If the quiet, sharp inhale from him said anyway, he liked the way it sounded too. Tilting my head just the slightest, I could look up into those dark, smoldering eyes. Our lips though...I could taste his breath on my tongue. I could feel the warmth from his skin radiating onto mine, turning me into a puddle of desire.

 Oh God, he smelled like everything that is beautifully masculine. Not the nasty, sweaty teenage boy but the pheromones that make your ovaries take notice and your uterus demands for something to be done with it. How was that possible? 

 "I'll...um, I'll make sure to add this to your schedule on Thursday." I whispered, almost able to feel his lips ghost over mine as my lips formed each word. 

 "Excellent."

 His hand trailed up my arm, setting fire to my nerves. Gently, he wrapped it around the base of my throat, his thumb rubbing a pattern into my skin. The whole time our eyes remained locked. His pupils dilated, desire coloring them and I wondered if mine looked the same. The small amount of air between us was thick with tension and salacity. My body screamed for me to drag him down and crash our lips together. To see if he tasted as good as he looked. My hands were stuck in my lap though. It felt like we were in a stalemate, unable to move forward, to take that next step.

 If something does not happen, I swear I will spontaneously combust! 

 Then someone knocked on the closed door. 

 .

 .

 .

 Dear universe. That was NOT what I meant! 

 With a sigh, he slipped his hand up to rub his thumb along my bottom lip for the briefest of seconds. I swear the regret coursing through my veins, I could see mirrored in his eyes. Ever so slowly he retracted his hand and leaned back, but stayed on the edge of his desk, his leg still between mine. 

 "Enter." He called out, only turning his heavy gaze from mine when the person stepped through. 

 First Sergeant Talbert walked in, opening his mouth then hesitated for a second as his eyes seemed to take in but not fully comprehend the scene before him. "Um, sir, there's a couple of replacements asking about a patrol…"

 "Oh, for fuck's sake!"

 I laughed at Speirs' pained expression. Quickly, I jumped to my feet and brazenly patted his chest, my hand lingering on the feel under my palm. "I'll take care of it before murder happens."

 "That's not till Thursday." He looked at me with a wry grin. His hand subtly reached forward to skim my hip before grabbing the edge of the table. 

 "Remember, you're busy now. Murder has to wait."

 "Fine. Friday it is then."

 "If you have the energy after." I winked at him. I only caught a glimpse of the hunger that flooded his eyes before I turned on my heels and headed out the door. The whole way out I could feel his heated gaze on my back, like his fingers were trailing down my spine. I shivered in anticipation for what it would really feel like. 

 I'll make sure he doesn't have the energy to terrorize Easy… I'm definitely doing this for their sakes… completely self-sacrificing… yep, I won't enjoy this at all.