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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 1 year

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jealousy, jealousy || Lee Know x Reader

Summary: "Sure, Minho missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes."

Or: You're working with a different partner for a group assignment, and Minho's totally chill about it.

Word count: 4.9k

Genres: college AU, coffee shop AU, strangers to lovers

Warnings & Tags: jealousy, kissing, minor language, tooth-rotting fluff, seriously this is so fluffy, reader is implied to have social anxiety, Thunderstorm

series masterlist

A/N: This is the second story I've written where Lee Know's a barista and cats are involved. It probably says something deep about me, but what? I hope you'll enjoy the fic, please consider letting me know your thoughts and reblogging the fic if you do~

Minho doesn't know exactly when he noticed you, or when you started appearing in his life. It’s kind of annoying actually, because he knows he noticed you because he kept seeing you around, but he has no way of pinpointing it. What he does know is that you started showing up at the coffee shop where he worked, twice every week. That wasn’t that big a deal, you were far from being the only one the only one, but it was a shop that was pretty out of the way, near an old building that was only used for a few classes, as far as he knew, so it wasn’t that frequented.

In fact, you could almost say that the people who bothered to come here were the weirdos who wanted to avoid the other permanently full coffee shops on campus. Which was fine by Minho, who wasn’t paid enough to deal with that sort of crowd.

Anyway, at some point, Minho’s brain had to have put together he was seeing you around quite a bit, and finally he managed to figure out that it was because you were in one of the classes he was rudely forced to take outside of his major. In his defense, it took him so long because he didn’t really like people, as a rule, and he paid as little attention to them as possible. His friends were enough of a hassle to deal with already.

It makes it all the more frustrating that he can’t tell what it was about you that caught his attention. It has to have been something. Once he starts trying to understand it, more things come to light. Like the fact that your lips move but your voice doesn’t come out when you thank him for giving you your order, or the sigh of relief you always seem to heave out when you let yourself fall at your favorite table, the one in the corner, where you sit with your back to the window.

Actually, from what he can see, you appear to do your best to stay out of people’s way. It’s a multitude of little things, from how you always sit in the middle of rows in the amphitheater and wait until everyone’s cleared out to leave, to how you keep close to the walls in the hallways, eyes usually on the floor, to how, on the couple of occasions when your voice can be heard in class, it’s only after the professor’s been waiting for an answer for an increasingly embarrassing amount of time.

The first time it happens — the first time Minho notices it happening, anyway — he has to make you repeat yourself louder, and it seems almost painful for you to raise your voice.

Then there’s that time when someone accidentally backs into you and the books and papers you’re carrying spill onto the floor.

“Shit, sorry,” they say, and you reply immediately, like it’s a reflex, “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it”, but afterwards, as you kneel next to the papers, you let out a defeated sigh, just staring at the mess for a few seconds. And that’s when Minho can’t stay in place anymore.

“Oh, thanks, you don’t have to do that,” you say, again, with that cadence that makes him feel like these are sentences that pour out of you without you getting much of say, so deeply ingrained in you that you can’t control them.

Then you glance up at him, and your eyes widen, little mouse caught in the cat’s gaze. He feels his lips curving into a grin. You recognize him, and you’re being very obvious about it too.

Cute.

“Thank you,” you repeat, taking your stuff from his hands and dipping your head to stop looking at him once you get control of yourself again.

“Vanilla latte, right?” he asks, and he probably shouldn’t be this amused by the way your head snaps back up and you freeze, but it’s— It’s kind of adorable. Though you’re obviously trying to reign yourself in, there is something so sincere about it that he can’t help but be enticed by it.

“Um,” you say. “Yes.” And then you visibly search for something to say next, rolling your lips together as if they’ll figure something out of a list of socially acceptable answers. As fun as this is, Minho decides to put you out of your misery.

For now anyway.

“I’ll give you a discount on the next one,” he says, and then he’s gone before you can start saying “You don’t have to do that”.

He actually slides the next one to you over the counter and tells you that it’s ‘on the house’. You hesitate for a few seconds, and he thinks you’re going to refuse, before you bow your head politely and thank him for it. You don’t quite look up at him after that, but a bright smile has spread on your lips.

Cute, he thinks, again, and then he doesn't think of it much at all. A part of his brain was intrigued by the novelty that you represented, and that part has been satiated now.

At least, that’s what he assumes.

You get his attention again a few weeks later. It’s fairly early in the morning and, as Minho does whenever he gets a chance, he’s behind the half abandoned building near the café, setting up some food for the cats that have taken residence here. It’s something he’s not really allowed to do, but also he’s never asked permission, so no one's told him that yet, which means that he’s not not allowed to do it either.

Still, when he hears footsteps approaching as he’s surrounded by a chorus of meows, there’s a part of him that considers making a run for it.

But then he’d have to run.

Which he doesn’t like doing.

You appear at the corner of the building before he’s made his decision. When your eyes meet, he half expects you to turn around and pretend you haven’t seen him. He’s pretty sure you’ve done that after a class, recently. You swallow, but you keep walking towards him, kneeling by his side and petting the cats as the braver ones rub themselves against your legs.

Whoever said that the surest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach clearly wasn’t obsessed with cats, because liking cats is maybe the most important requirement for Minho.

“Hi,” you say, at a surprisingly normal volume, and then, cadence a little too fast, “I have some cat food.”

Is it weird that he finds that attractive? It’s probably weird.

“Have you been stalking me?” he says more than he asks, vaguely aware of the fact that there’s something ironic about him saying those words.

Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head.

“No! I— have classes in there,” you point at the building, “and I’ve— seen you come around here. We’ve been told we couldn’t feed the cats,” you add with a slight pout. “We still do it when we can get away with it, but it's good that someone is also taking care of them.”

And you break the law for the sake of cats. Isn’t this amazing.

“I can help you buy food,” you say. “If you’d like.”

He doesn't reply right away, and when the silence stretches a second too long, you start speaking again, faster and your voice lower now.

“Or not, you know, I don’t want to impose anything, I mean, I didn’t want to intrude—”

On the one hand, that seems more like you, based on the glimpses of you he’s been getting, and on the other, he’s not sure how to shut that down. The truth is, he can barely fit the expenses in his budget. He literally can't afford to refuse your help — but he doesn't think he’d do it if he could.

“You can help,” he says, interrupting you in the middle of a sentence where you’re basically apologizing for existing, and that seems to knock the breath out of you.

“Oh,” you say, “that’s good.”

He wonders if you walk into interactions with a prepared set of sentences and panic when anyone goes off script. That sounds kind of exhausting.

“I’ll bill you,” he adds, and the feeling he gets when you let out a light laugh is one he can’t quite explain. There’s a sense of pride in it, but also some much deeper satisfaction at the feeling of having gotten you to let that guard slip, even for just a few seconds.

“I have to go to class,” you say, getting up while you rummage through your tote bag to hand him a package of dry food. “But I’ll, uh, see you around?”

There’s an expectancy to your tone, a hope even. He wonders if you’re aware of it. Either way, that sincerity, which he’d noticed before, remains pleasantly refreshing.

“Sure,” he says.

The next time you show up at the coffee shop, Friday a few minutes after six, like always, he has your vanilla latte ready.

After that, Minho finds it fascinating to see how differently you react to him, depending on the situation. Every now and then, you meet him behind the building, usually early in the morning, before there are too many people around. They would probably recognize you, and then you’d get in trouble, you explain. Your voice is lighter then, your body more relaxed. You manage to chat with him, to make small talk.

‘Manage’ really is the word for it, because your behavior is worlds apart when he sees you in class. It’s clear by now that this just isn’t your element, so you stick to your script, and Minho just isn’t a part of it. He doesn’t take it too personally, considering that no one else seems to be either.

It’s obvious to him that you get there with the objective of being in and out of the building as efficiently as possible, and with as little interaction with others as you can get away with. He does approach you still on a couple of occasions, one of them being when the classes before yours ran late and everyone was waiting in the hallway. You're focused on your phone then, and you jump when he says your name.

“How are you doing?” he asks, leaning against the wall next to you.

“Oh,” you say, which he thinks is just your filler word to give yourself time to figure out what to say next. “Um. Good. How are you?”

“Good.”

Someone else would bristle at the awkwardness of the exchange, but Minho is mostly amused by it. After a few seconds of very visibly searching for something to say, you come up with “…and how are the cats?”, though your tone is hesitant, unsure.

“They’re good too,” he grins. “Went to visit them this morning. Also, I might have found an association that could them spayed.” He certainly can’t afford to pay for it.

“That’s great,” you say.

This time, he’s the one who takes it upon himself to save the conversation, casually pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Wanna see my cats?”

You light up at the question, and Minho feels the same sort of pride he does when Dori jumps into his lap to ask for pets — instead of ungratefully evading him like the little shit he is.

It doesn’t last long, the class before yours ends soon, and after that you get back to your ‘just getting in and out’ state. It’s almost physical when it happens. The smile disappears from your lips as you press them together, you straighten your back, but the most impressive change is the way your eyebrows tighten, a small line forming between them. Minho almost wants to reach out to wipe it from your forehead, but he doesn’t. Baby steps, that’s what you need, not him invading your personal space by that much.

He doesn’t ask himself, even for a second, why he’s willing to go through that much trouble to get closer to you. He just goes with the flow, as he always has, and that works fine for him.

He doesn’t sit next to you in class, thinks it would only stress you out more, make you too aware of his presence and of how you react to it. Instead, he takes a spot right in front of you, where he can’t see you but can easily check on you if he wants to — which he does. He refrains from doing it too much though, because on more than one occasion, he caught you looking at him, and you averted your eyes quickly, acting a little too invested in your note taking.

He still thinks it’s cute, but he doesn’t want to make you go in hiding, so he holds himself back.

Which comes back to bite him in the ass, rudely, when the teacher announces that he wants people to work in pair for an assignment.

He turns around to ask you to work with him, and sees, right in front of his eyes, as the guy sitting next to you asks you the same thing in a casual manner. You reply too fast, one of your knee-jerk answers, he can tell, but it’s still done before he even got the time to open his mouth. He also knows, instinctively, that you’ll feel embarrassed if he asks you now, so he doesn’t, turning to his own neighbor while holding back the strange urge to hiss at the guy.

…maybe he spends too much time with cats, actually.

Minho’s fine with the situation. He is. He still gets to be around you some mornings, and you now look him in the eye when you place your order at the coffee shop. You also don’t recoil as much as you used to when he leans over the counter, ostensibly to flirt with you — though he’s like, 98% sure you haven’t realized that’s what he’s doing. He’s making progress in getting you to feel more comfortable around him.

Sure, he missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes.

He’s been moody about it for days, to the point that Jisung pouted at him, asking him “what was wrong with him these days”, and Changbin looked him dead in the eyes to ask him if he needed help to get a girl, because he clearly needed to get laid.

A conversation he got out of by replying “do you want to die”, which is a card he’s maybe been playing a little too much these days.

He’s been in a good mood today, though. He’d seen you in the morning, and you’d helped him try to make a small shelter for the cats, because it had been announced that there would be heavy rain over the whole week-end. It had been a fun time, and maybe he’d used the opportunity to get closer to you than usual, enjoying how flustered it made you. Just brushing against you as he grabbed some planks you’d sneaked out of the building, totally accidentally touching your hand when you handed him something, that kind of things.

He had somewhat ruined the effect by accidentally dropping a plank on his foot, but that had made you laugh, so, it was— No, it still wasn’t worth it, he didn’t enjoy pain, but it made him slightly less annoyed about it.

So, as he waited for you in the coffee shop, as the skies outside darkened and fewer people than usual showed up, he wasn’t in as bad a mood as he’d been lately.

It started to rain at around half past five. He would have loved to run to get you with an umbrella, but he, unfortunately, needed his job. He did get a towel ready to hand to you, in case you didn’t have anything to protect yourself from the rain.

And then you came in.

Under an umbrella.

Which was in the hands of the one guy that was your partner in that one class.

Violent thoughts of murder flash before Minho’s eyes.

“Hey,” you say as you walk to the counter, giving him a bright smile, “this is Jooyeon, he’s in—”

“Class with us,” Minho completes with a smile that’s very much fake, “yes, I recognize him.”

Actually, technically, Jooyeon hasn’t done anything wrong, but it doesn’t help that he’s been looking at you and following you around like a damn puppy. What annoys Minho the most is probably the fact that you seem a lot chiller around him, a lot more natural than you are whenever Minho’s around. That’s— upsetting. He wants to see these sides of you, too, and not just from afar.

One vanilla latte and an americano later, you and Jooyeon sit by the window, in your usual spot, and Minho can’t stop himself from glaring. Jisung, or anyone, really, would call him out on it in a matter of seconds, because he’s not being subtle about it, but there’s no one around right now. The room, which is rarely full, is emptier than usual because most people rushed to get home to try to avoid the downpour.

That means that there is nothing to distract him from the intrusive thoughts that are trying to convince him to just throw something at Jooyeon. Anything would do.

When it starts becoming a little too tempting, and considering that he doubts anyone would brave the rain that’s falling at the moment, as thick as a curtain separating the coffee shop from the outside world, he decides to grab his computer and try to get some work done.

Of course, because some divinity out there must have decided to target him today, he’s just getting started and finding his rhythm when the lights flicker above him. He glances up. In the distance, the thunder rumbles.

There’s a flash outside.

And everything goes dark.

Fuck. His. Life.

With a sigh, he pulls out his phone to turn on his flashlight. At least, in this day and age, most people in the shop have the same idea, and soon enough he can see what’s happening.

“It’s probably just a power cut because of the storm,” he announces loudly, because it’s his responsibility to reassure the clients — if that had been something they’d tested for when he was interviewed, he would never have gotten the job. “Lights might come back on soon.” Or not, how would he know. “No reason to panic.”

He scans the faces of students, though he’s not sure what he’s looking for. Some people look worried, others, no doubt those who know that this happens semi-regularly on campus when there’s a storm, because why would your tuition pay to ensure that you have reliable electricity in here, just seem prepared to wait it out. Someone’s already gone back to tapping on their keyboard, though the sound of it is swallowed by that of the rain.

But then, he does a double-take, just to check on an impression that he had, and that confirms what he thought.

You’re not in the room. Most likely explanation is that you’re in the bathroom, but he has to imagine that it’s a pretty freaky experience, when all the lights turn off without warning and you’re all alone.

So, without thinking much about it, he makes his way in that direction. He’s hesitating in front of the door when it pushes open, and he’s suddenly blinded by cellphone light.

“Sorry!” he hears you apologize before he can make out your face. “I, uh, is the power out?”

“It looks like it,” he answers, and then his tone softens. “Are you okay?”

There’s a few seconds of silence, and he can’t quite discern your expression, because you’ve both lowered your lights. He resists the urge to reach for you, to inspect you to see for himself that everything is fine.

“I’m fine,” you answer. “I just—”

Then there’s the crack of thunder, and you jump, gasping, before closing your eyes in obvious annoyance.

“Fuck,” you say, and he wonders if it’s the first time that he’s ever heard you swear. And if it’s weird that he’s kinda into it.

“You scared of storms?” he asks, trying his best to contain the amusement in his voice.

“No,” you protest, a little defensively. “I don’t like being surprised— Fuck!”

Minho knows he shouldn’t laugh, that making fun of you could ruin the trust he’s been trying to build this past month, but at your annoyance for letting yourself be taken by surprise, and considering your obvious lack of fear, he can’t help it. It comes out higher than his usual pitch, a little airy. You roll your eyes at it, but you don’t seem to miss the humor in the situation, because a smile forms on your lips as well.

At that point, because he isn’t one to let an opportunity slip, he reaches out to take your hand in his. Your palm is soft, if somewhat calloused on the spot under your fingers, and after the first moment of surprise, you squeeze his hand in response.

“It’s okay,” he says. “It should be over soon.” Then a pause. “Or maybe we’ll be stuck here until we have to decide who we’re going to eat.”

You laugh at that, brief and light, and as cliché as it is, Minho thinks that is quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds in the world. Especially when he’s the one making you laugh, and not that jackass Joo— Ah, the kid hasn’t technically done anything, and it feels silly to blame him when you’re here with your hand in his.

So he’ll let it go. For now.

As much as he would like to stay here with you, in the dark, away from everyone else, Minho unfortunately has stuff he needs to take care of right now.

“Wanna go back with the others? I think I have to keep an eye on them.”

“Sure,” you say. You don’t attempt to take your hand from his, and so he pulls you along with him. He’s not going to let go if you won’t.

Things in the café are still quiet, and people don’t pay a lot of attention when the two of you come back, except for Jooyeon, who gets up from his seat.

“That must have taken you by surprise,” he says with empathy. “Everything okay?”

“All good,” you reply warmly, and there’s a pinch in Minho’s chest again. “I think we’ll have to postpone the session though. I’ll let you know when I’m free, if that’s okay with you?”

Ugh. Minho tunes Jooyeon’s response out, only waiting for an opportunity to whisk you away. He probably shouldn’t feel this strongly about it, is aware that you’re entirely within your own rights if you want to pick Jooyeon over him, but from his perspective, that doesn’t mean he has to let it be an easy decision to make. He’s not the type to lie down and just watch as that happens.

So the second Jooyeon’s eyes flick back to his computer, Minho’s taking you towards the counter with him. He checks the register once he’s there — which he definitely shouldn’t have let unattended without verifying that it couldn’t be accessed without electricity, oops, his bad — and after having confirmed that everything’s fine, his eyes go back to you.

The spike in his heart rate when he finds you already staring at him surprises him a little. He supposes that he can’t be that jealous without also having that sort of reaction to you. It’s not… unpleasant, actually, though the strength of it surprises him. It’s not the kind of emotion he usually welcomes, he’s used to them feeling less sharp, duller. But he doesn’t reject that one.

Gently, he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, enjoying the feeling of your skin against his.

“Is there an issue between him and Jooyeon?” you ask, voice soft.

Ah. For someone who’s so completely oblivious about his interest in you, you were sure quick to notice that.

“You could say that,” he replies, and you frown.

“I didn’t know that,” you say, words coming out slow, like you’re figuring out what to say as you go, instead of defaulting to your usual pre-built answers. “Can I ask why?”

Minho raises an eyebrow. Then, wordlessly, he shifts himself so that you’re against the counter, with him standing in front of you. It’s interesting, because he’s almost exactly in the spot where he is every day, and every time he steals glances at you to make his day marginally better. He puts his hands on either side of you, hears you take a sharp breath.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

His voice comes out soft and muted, and as he asks, he feels something squeeze at his heart. Maybe because he’s not sure of what you'll answer. Maybe because he could have misread you, thought that you were oblivious when the truth was that you weren't interested. He could be keeping you away from your one true love, Jooyeon, who you’re going to go on to marry and have three k—

“Yes,” you squeak.

Ok, never mind.

Technically you’re in public, but it’s not like anyone’s looking your way, or like they'd see something other than silhouettes when he leans towards you.

It feels so natural when he kisses you. You lift your arms to wrap them around his neck, his hands find their place on your hips. Much to his surprise, you’re the one who presses yourself into him, lips moving softly against his, and it sends a jolt of electricity through his body. Suddenly there’s urgency running through his veins, desire, and his fingers dig harder into you. He kisses you with more intensity, like he’s trying to get rid of any space left between the two of you, and the soft sigh you let out only spurs him on further.

He’s seconds — fractions of seconds — away from doing something stupid when laughter and claps fill the room.

He parts from you, feeling his ears and cheeks turning red already, and discovers that the lights treacherously turned back on, and everyone is looking at the two of you. Protectiveness rushes through him, and he’s about to say something snappy, thinking that you’d be uncomfortable with it, when he realizes that you’re doubled over in laughter. Yes, you look a little embarrassed, but mostly, you seem fine with it.

Which is good, because otherwise he thinks he might have lost the shop a number of customers.

Everyone looks amused and happy for the two of you. Even Jooyeon’s grinning, though the look he gives Minho says, essentially, “Oh that was your problem”. It doesn’t capture people’s attention very long, but there’s something very sweet and human about the moment and how happy it seems to make everyone. Some regulars even exchange glances that seem to mean ‘I told you so’. Ha, he didn’t think he’d ever become campus gossip.

Once there are fewer eyes on the two of you, Minho leans towards you.

“I’ll take you on a date anywhere, as long as it’s not to get coffee.”

Your face lights up.

“I’d love that.”

Working at a coffee shop is not something that Minho finds very fun. Someone who enjoys human interactions more than him might, but it just feels very repetitive to him. Doing the same movements, asking the same questions, having to deal with the same issues from asshole customers who are different but also fundamentally the same person. The ding of cash register, the one of no contact credit cards, the buzzing of the coffee machine. It’s repetitive, but in a way that fills and numbs the mind.

There’s just one sound that he minds a little less now, and it’s the one the door makes when it opens.

Because, every now and again, it means that you’ve just come in.

“Hey,” you say as you reach the counter. You’re smiling so bright, and he loves it because he knows that it’s another one of those things that you can’t help. You’re smiling because he makes you happy, and isn’t that the best thing in the world?

“Dating the barista doesn’t entitle you to free coffee,” he says as he slides your vanilla latte over to you, though he has used his employee discount on everything you’ve ordered lately and he would very much give it to you for free if you didn’t insist on paying for your own stuff.

“We’re still on for tonight?” you ask, taking the coffee from the table.

“You think I’d let you get out of it?” he replies, and you laugh, before taking off to go to your usual table.

After that, he keeps going, keeps doing the same movements, asking the same questions, hearing the same noises. But sometimes, he glances in your direction and finds you focused on your computer, biting your lower lip as you’re deep in thought, or looking at him with a smile, and it makes it all more bearable.

Because you give him something to look forward to.

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

#stray kids #lee know #lee know x reader #minho x reader #stray kids imagine #skz #lee know imagine #skz imagine #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #lee know fanfic #lee minho x reader #lee know fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #candywrites

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avatar-saiki · 1 year

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Mammon's Morning Wood

Mammon/AFAB reader (you/your pronouns) 4.2k words

CW: NSFW, oral sex, vaginal fingering

Summary: Mammon wakes up with morning wood and you help him out (written as an established relationship and with a personal head canon that every demon has a small bathroom connected to their rooms because plot convenience).

Another notification rang through his D.D.D., its chirps cutting through the morning haze and rousing him from sleep. Blindly, he felt around until he found it buried in the covers and clicked a button to snooze the alarm.

“Mm…”

Warmth pressed closer to his chest, a soft floral fragrance tickling his nose. He smiled and nuzzled into your hair, wrapping his arm around your waist to enjoy this for a moment longer.

Until another flurry of dings and chirps began to play through the small speaker buried in the sheets.

“Mm… Mammon…” your sleepy voice croaked, “Turn it off…”

He felt around again and silenced it, but judging by those alerts it was probably some chat conversation he’d have to catch up on. Or Lucifer was trying to get ahold of him to harass him about last night’s party.

Which was totally unfair. Asmodeus was there too and the drinking didn’t get that carried away until he started with his games. Come to think of it, how much had he ended up drinking anyway? He rolled over onto his back and squinted at the screen, lowering the brightness down as far as it’d allow while scrolling through the messages just as a small headache was blossoming. Nothing a little extra sleep couldn’t fix, but turning off the screen and tossing it away worked so much better.

His human rolling over and snuggling up close to him helped plenty~

He looked up at their reflections in the mirror overhead, trying to remember just what had happened last night. You were wearing his shirt, that was a good sign, but you also still had one of your sandals on.

“Hey,” he whispered, watching himself reach around to shake you gently. “Hey, do you remember what happened after the party? Before we went to bed?”

Your face crinkled adorably and you nuzzled closer, tucking your face into his side.

“Oi, don’t do that,” he said in a surprised whisper. “I probably stink!”

You grumbled but wouldn’t budge. If anything, you burrowed closer as if seeking his warmth to hide from the waking world.

So cute. He smiled to himself and looked up at your reflections again, wishing he could enjoy this feeling a little longer but the damn pain in his head was starting to creep in. Washing his face might clear it. Maybe.

He sighed and gently disentangled himself from you, replacing himself with his pillow. Not the same, but should stay warm for a few minutes longer while he brushed his teeth. His heart leapt when you hugged it tight, nuzzling in with a deep breath as if to breathe in his very scent.

So precious. He sat at the edge of the bed and checked his D.D.D. for the time. Still early, plenty of time to let you sleep till breakfast. It was colder than usual though.

“Need pants,” he muttered under his breath, getting up and grabbing a pair of sweats off the floor.

“Mamm?”

He tugged them up over his waist, taking a moment to adjust himself with his back toward you before he looked over his shoulder to meet your questioning eyes.

“I’m just gonna go brush my teeth and wash my face,” he said softly, “I ain’t goin’ far, go back to sleep.”

Soothed, your eyes closed again and you nodded, holding his pillow close.

Ugh, sometimes it was so unfair how cute you could be or the thoughts that would stir in his mind if he lingered too long. Later. You were too tired and probably hungover too anyway. He turned and quietly walked over to the bathroom, leaving the door open just a crack so you could hear him and snapping his fingers to illuminate the glowing crystals overhead.

Instantly he regretted it, the brightness so piercing it took him a second to adjust, the headache coming on full force. He leaned over the counter and squinted at his reflection, his eyes puffy and hair an absolute mess. He watched his reflection and lifted his arm with a curious sniff. Not great, but not bad. He turned on the sink and splashed some water under his arms and across his neck, then leaned over to splash his face, its coolness adding some much needed clarity to the morning slog.

After toweling off and checking his brow line for any stray hairs, he picked up his toothbrush and squirted a nice dollop of minty freshness on the bristles. Then with one hand still on the counter, he leaned over the sink and started to brush his teeth.

“Mammon?” His name was said so gently, and the door creaked open with your face peering in, glaring up at the glowing crystals.

He leaned over to spit, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Mornin’, did you wanna come brush your teeth too?”

“It’s too early to be awake,” you complained, pushing the door open more and rubbing your eyes.

“It’s not,” he said, picking up his rinse cup and filling it with some water for you. “Here drink some water. You’ll feel better.”

You nodded and walked over to accept the cup, taking a few sips and looking over at your reflection. “Ugh…” you groaned, setting the cup down again. “What happened last night? Did we win?”

He laughed and turned to rinse off his toothbrush. “I… think so? I don’t remember, but if Asmo asks we definitely did.”

You nodded and picked up a brush, closing your eyes again while combing through your hair.

He picked up the cup and took a sip, swishing it around before spitting in the sink. You’d positioned yourself in such a way that he needed to squeeze passed you to get out the door, but he wanted to give you time to wake up and get ready too.

“‘Scuse,” he said with a hand on your shoulder, “I’m just gonna—”

“I can see your penis.”

He froze and looked down to see the head was peeking just out of the waistband. He chuckled and looked at you through the mirror’s reflection, smirking. “Well yeah,” he said, “you give me morning wood almost every day.”

Your lips pursed. “Did we have sex last night?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, “but I don’t think so? I don’t even remember getting into bed but I think we probably just fell asleep.” He placed his hands on your shoulders and nuzzled the top of your head. “You really did try an’ keep up with us~ I was impressed.”

But you didn’t seem to be. Instead, stubbornly, you said. “I wanted to.”

“I know,” he murmured, kissing your hair. “It’s okay. We both passed out after drinkin’ so much anyway. I do remember you were real flirty and it made Asmo real jealous~”

You pouted, but relented and tilted your head to the side as he kissed down along your temple. “Did you want help with it?”

“With what?” he asked, not sure he was following your meaning.

A subtle smile crossed your face and you turned into him, kissing his chest before looking up at him through your lashes. “Do you need me, love?”

“I always need ya,” he said, running his fingers through your hair. “You know I do.”

“Yes, but…” Your hands were so warm and soft on his chest, eyes alight with mischief as they traveled down to his waistband. “Do you need me?”

Heat rushed to his face and he swallowed, looking down at your fingers sneaking their way into his pants and slowly pulling them down. “I… I’m not gonna ask… it’s okay, I know you’re not feelin’ so g—” He shivered when you reached in and took hold of him, gently caressing his balls with your fingers while feeling his erection with your palm.

“You’re so hard…” you said, feeling over him with such loving care.

“Y-Yeah,” he mumbled. “It gets harder when you touch it, love.”

You grinned up at him and cupped his balls again, pressing your body closer. “You get hard for me?”

“You know I do…” he murmured, headache suddenly not so relevant anymore.

“Let me take care of you,” you said, kissing down his chest as you moved to kneel on the floor. Then you looked up at him and pulled his pants down to his knees, somehow giving him the most innocent expression while his cock extended just a breath from your cheek. “Can I?”

He felt warm, so warm with you smiling up at him. “You don’t hafta… or ask… I mean, shouldn’t I be the one that—”

You turned and held him close, pressing your lips to the base and nuzzling with an affectionate kiss. “You want me, don’t you?” you asked.

“That ain’t fair,” he murmured, heart picking up when you glanced up at him again, turning to rest your cheek against him, somehow still looking up at him as if you didn’t know exactly what you was doing. “You know I do.”

You smirked a little and closed your eyes, leaning in while lightly caressing your fingers along his length. “You’re so warm… I can feel you getting harder.”

That resonated with him more than he expected, and you giggled.

“You’re such a good boy,” you teased, gently taking hold of him. “Such…” you turned into him again and pressed the flat of you tongue against him and gliding up along the side, gently teasing the tip before licking all the way down again. When he groaned, he could feel your giggle against him and you suckled a loving kiss at mid-length before sitting back on your heels. “A very good boy~”

He leaned forward to rest his hands on the counter, trapping you beneath him and damn if he didn’t enjoy the view. You grinned up at him, giving him a single stroke.

“So can I?” You asked, reaching up to grab on his pants and tug him closer. “Please~?”

“If you want, but—”

Before he could even say he didn’t mind if you weren’t up for it or had a headache of your own, the warmth of pleasure engulfed him and instead it took everything in him to not immediately thrust into ecstasy.

Your eyes flashed wickedly as your soft little tongue circled slowly, teasing him before you suckled again.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed under his breath, holding the counter tight as a flurry of tingles stirred in his belly. “Babe… go easy on me.”

You giggled and popped off, pressing kisses down his length again. “I can’t help it~ the faces you make are so cute.”

He grunted under his breath. “Yeah, but if you make it feel good too fast it really makes me wanna fuck you.”

“I know,” you murmured, stroking him with a steady pace while looking up at him through your lashes. “I love that look in your eyes most.”

Now the heat rushed upward toward his face, and it must’ve been enough to show because you giggled again.

“Just be good for me and hold still,” you said, sitting up and tucking your hair behind your ear. “If you move too much on your own, I’ll gag.”

“I know,” he mumbled, watching with bated breath as you looked him over as if deciding how you wanted it. He bit his lip, then whined under his breath when you cupped his balls and looked up at him.

“You want me to make you cum?” you asked with a slight tilt of your head.

“Yes,” he whispered.

You grinned and began to stroke him. “I make you feel good, don’t I?”

“Y…Yes,” he whispered, gripping the counter’s edge.

A coy little hum was followed by faster strokes and possessive little kisses just below the head.

“I make you hard, don’t I?”

He blushed and bit his lip, distracted by the tension in his lower abdomen.

“Mammon~?”

“Y-yes,” he said quickly only to moan when you licked away the pre-cum beading at the tip.

“Good boy~” you praised one last time before taking him in, first to swallow him down as far as you could go, then returning to suckling on the tip while you stroked.

He moaned and leaned heavier on the counter, captivated with watching you worship his cock. At first you’d peek up at him now and then, but then you closed your eyes and really got into it. Wetness and slurps coupled with faster strokes were sending his mind reeling, and he looked up in an attempt to distract himself before cumming too fast, but when he saw you head bobbing just above the counter’s reflection…

“L… Little faster,” he whispered, perverse pleasure in watching you go down on him so eagerly, obeying so quickly and picking up the pace.

Worshipping the Great Mammon… and seeking his pleasure….

“That’s a good human,” he murmured, looking down at you again and holding the back of your head. “Here… let me…” he rocked his hips to rub himself against your tongue and bit his lip again when you relaxed for him so easily, letting him use you.

“Such a good human,” he praised, moaning under his breath when you answered with a sensual roll of your tongue.

“Fuck…” He let go of your and leaned on the counter again, shallowly rocking his hips while you started to bob again. “Go fast as ya can, love, and I’ll c—”

You really didn’t need any further prompting; eagerly taking hold of him with both hands and working him so expertly. If he didn’t know any better, he might’ve thought you’d sold yourself to Lust but no you were his and only his. He began to whisper meaningless nothings, begging for you to go faster the more the pressure began to build, his balls so heavy and tight—

“N-Nnghh~” he grunted through clenched teeth, rocking his hips forward as a wave of relief crested and warmth flowed.

You sputtered and sat back with a gasp while his thoughts were still lost amid the sea of ecstasy, his breathy pants filling the space between them for a breath.

Then you sighed and sat down on the floor, taking off his shirt to wipe your mouth. “You came so much,” you said.

“Did I?” he murmured, looking down at you with worry. “Was it too much?”

You looked up at him and grinned. “Nope~ that just means I made you feel real good, doesn’t it? Now move,” you reached up to touch his stomach. “I can’t stand up with you on top of me.”

He couldn’t help smirking at that and you rolled your eyes.

“Mammon, move.”

“Okay, okay,” he mused, reaching down to offer you a hand. “C’mon love, get off the floor.”

You took his hands and he pulled you up to your feet then let out a low whistle when he saw you fully. You always had such sexy lingerie to wear, but it looked like you’d bought another new set just for him. Soft, black lace hung around your hips with a delicate little thong and golden silk bow. The matching bra was equally soft and small, black lace cups supporting below your breasts with golden ribbon laced around your ribs. More black ribbons crisscrossed over your breasts to complete the cup, but…

He swallowed, eyes fixated on your exposed nipples peeking out, excited and perky.

“I wanted to have sex last night…” you whispered softly, bringing your shoulders back. “I’m sorry I wasn’t— h-hey!”

You squealed adorably when he picked you up and sat you down on the counter, still enraptured in admiring the latest wrapping of your choice.

“You bought this for me?” he asked coyly, leaning one hand on the counter and shifting most his weight to the side, really making an effort to play casual while he blatantly stared at your body. You always loved that.

“I did,” you murmured with a pleased hum while you rested against the mirror and spread your legs ever so subtly. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” he said, letting his voice drop low as his greed began to show. “You look pretty.”

“I do?”

He smirked for you, stealing himself an excited little intake of breath.

“Very pretty,” he murmured, lightly tracing his fingertips along your thigh, just enough to make the goosebumps start to appear. “It’s a shame I wasn’t able to enjoy it last night.”

Only…

Instead you pressed your thighs together and pouted up at him.

“I’m sorry,” you said, eyes so unbearably sincere. “I was just having so much fun with Asmo too and I didn’t know how much I had—”

He shushed you with a kiss, followed by a little nip on your lip.

“I’m teasing you, love,” he murmured, nuzzling your nose with his. “How bad’s your head hurtin’ that you can’t tell that?”

You made a noise of discontent, and he shushed it with another kiss.

“That’s not nice, Mammon…” you said with a soft whine.

“I know,” he murmured, tracing idle circles on your thigh again. “How can I make it up to ya?”

The subtlest of shivers ran down your leg, and you tilted your chin to ask for another kiss. “What do you have to offer?”

He chuckled and reached up to find the ribbon of your thong, following it along to caress across your belly. “Mm… if you’re still hungover… I could go steal some breakfast for ya for starters,” he said, turning to kiss down your neck. “Let you sleep a little longer~ maybe we could go out for lunch.”

“On a date?” you perked up, tilting your head to the side for him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, opening his mouth to touch his fangs to your skin, teasing you with the promise of a bite that wouldn’t come. “S’one idea…”

You sighed contentedly and your legs relaxed again, spreading ever-so-slightly. “Is that your only idea?”

He chuckled again and tickled your tummy, making you squirm. “I have a few others, mostly ‘cause you know how much I don’t like being in debt.”

“Debt? No,” you leaned away from him, even reached up to grab his chin and push him back to look at his face. “I wanted to make you f—”

He nipped your palm, amused.

Your cheeks turned pink and you pouted again. “You’re teasing too much.”

He reached up to hold your arm, turning to kiss your inner wrist. “Can’t you tell when I’m flirting with you yet?” he said, kissing further up your arm. “Does your head really hurt?”

“A little…”

“Do you wanna go lay down some more?”

“In… a minute…”

He chuckled and gazed at you, rubbing his cheek against the softness of your inner arm. “Do you need me to make you feel good too?”

Your blush deepened and you nodded.

“Alright,” he murmured, shifting his weight to both feet as he reached down to pinch the ribbons of your thong. “Lemme help you~”

You bit back a smile and wrapped your arms around his neck, lifting your hips so he could slide off your thong with ease. When you sat down on the counter again, he grabbed the backs of your knees and spread your legs further, leaning back to admire you.

“Wait…” he raised a brow, “Are you already wet, love?”

You blushed again and looked away, mumbling, “I like to make you feel good…”

“You’re so sexy,” he said under his breath, unable to resist grabbing your sides and kissing you again. You squeaked in surprise and he took it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, moaning when he tasted himself on your tongue. Your moans tasted even sweeter, and he joined you when you hugged tighter, threading your fingers through his hair.

Your body was so soft in his hands, and he could feel every breath expanding in your lungs. Would he ever get used to just how delicate you felt in his hold? Or perhaps…

“Lemme go, love,” he murmured, turning to kiss down your neck again. “I can’t do much if ya hold me too tight.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, your arms relaxing for him.

“It’s okay~” he mused, giving you a playful nibble while he reached up to rub the underside of your breasts with his thumbs. “Hold me tight later~”

Your breath hitched when he caressed again, this time sweeping his thumbs just below your nipples. “Mammon… I’m not sure if I…”

“I’ll be gentle,” he said, kissing down your chest. “If it bothers ya too much, I’ll stop, okay? But you did clear my headache~”

You laughed and then gasped softly when he latched, capturing your nipple in his mouth and surrounding it with wet heat. Your back arched and he closed his eyes, licking to coax it to harden.

“M-Mammon—” you keened softly, fingers finding his hair again.

He hummed in response, reaching up to cup your other breast, not wanting to leave it wanting while he suckled. Again you gasped, pressing your chest closer while holding him tight, making him chuckle again. Your tits were always so sensitive~

“That feels good,” you whispered, “Pinch me…”

He let out a playful growl and bit around you, drawing out an excited squeal.

“O-Oh!”

Ugh, why did you have to make such delicious sounds?

He let go only to move to the other and latch again, wanting to see both nice and perky.

“Mammon…” you breathed, his name so tender on your tongue while you pet his hair.

Good human.

He hummed again and felt up your thigh, turning his palm up to touch you with his middle finger. Your hips twitched in surprise, but your legs spread further and he took that as an invitation. Your slit was already starting to wet, but he could do better. First gentle strokes, nothing more than enjoying the soft velvet of your inner labia.

So… soft…

He moaned around you, lazily rolling his tongue around your nipple as blood started to rush south again.

“Mammon…” you whispered again, tugging at his hair. “Don’t… tease….”

“I won’t,” he murmured, pressing his finger in closer until he felt where your opening was. He couldn’t help smirking to himself as he rubbed around it, feeling you squirm and wet even further.

“Mammonnn,” you whined.

“Are you ready for more?”

“Yes,” you whined, tugging again. “Mammon, don’t tease.”

“Okay, love,” he cooed gently, kissing up your chest to your neck where he nipped your nape. Then he curved his finger and bit back a groan when he felt you clench already. “Whatever you want~” he said, pushing in slowly to his second knuckle.

Your body quivered, so hot and soft and wet. This time he couldn’t hold back the soft moan of appreciation as he started to pump in slowly, curving his finger up to focus on the spot that always seemed to make you writhe.

A pleased sigh tickled his bangs, your arms wrapped around his neck. You slouched back, angling your hips to make it easier for him while one of your legs hooked around his hip.

“More…” you said softly, sending even more blood rushing down.

He groaned under his breath, pumping faster. “How’s that?”

You mewled, hips squirming as you tried to fuck yourself. “More,” you whined.

He pulled out his finger and added a second, pushing them in together until you keened.

“How’s that?” he asked coyly, setting a steady rhythm again and stroking that spot, determined to make you cum.

Your leg pulled him closer and you held him so tight.

“More,” you panted, arousal lubricating his fingers as clenches began to squeeze even tighter, almost desperately. “M-More—”

He hummed and nipped just below the corner of your jaw, riding out your desperate ruts and using them to find the rhythm you needed. The wetter you got, the harder he felt and he moaned into your neck, losing himself to the sensations. Hot. Wet. Tight. Wet.

Hot.

Hotter.

Tight.

Tighter.

Your legs began to shake and your arms held him so tight.

“M-Mamm—”

Wet.

“M-Mamm-”

Wetter.

The sweetest keen greeted him, a rush of wet and tight surrounding his fingers. He moaned, easing his affections and keeping them in deep as your orgasm rippled around him, your embrace so tight like you needed him to anchor you while your mind slipped into euphoria.

Your breathing eventually settled into deep, greedy gasps, arms relaxing and leg slipping off his hip. He gently pulled out his fingers and stood up enough to see your face, pleased to see you so content.

“How was that?” he asked, nuzzling your nose again.

“Mm…” you hummed, closing your eyes and nuzzling back. “I feel better~”

“Yeah?” He chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”

“Mm…” you hummed again, petting him and playing with his hair, then lightly scratching his scalp with manicured nails. “Did you get hard again?”

He smirked. “‘Course I did, but only a little. It ain’t anything to worry about.”

Your hands moved to his shoulders, pushing him to stand back. Your eyes were languid, yet mischievous. “Will you carry me to bed?”

“Sure, lemme just—”

You wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled him in close, pressing your wet, hot cunt right up against him.

“And give me more?” You purred, rolling your hips in one, sensual, roll.

He groaned under his breath, making you smile.

“Yeah,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your lower back and lifting you off the counter, already turning toward the bedroom. “Yeah, I can do that.”

You giggled and crossed your ankles, clinging close and nuzzling into his chest as he carried you. “I love you,” you said.

He kissed your hair, heart full of a warmth he’d never known without you.

“I love you too.”

#obey me smut #obey me mammon #afab reader #gender neutral reader #obey me shall we date #fanfic #reader insert

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captainsophiestark · 1 year

Text

The Curse of the Sun and the Moon

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Day 7 Prompt: "Do you recognize this?"

Summary: Klaus' SO is writing their doctoral dissertation on cross-culture myths. Much to their irritation, Klaus knows a thing or two about those.

Word Count: 1,877

Category: Humor, Fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst?

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Love? Hello, can you hear me?"

Slowly, I turned my head away from the paper in front of me, still not taking my eyes off the drawings. A hand waved in front of my face too, but I ignored it.

"What do you want, Nik?" I muttered, only half paying attention to him.

"I want to know you haven't gone into a coma," he whined, flopping down into the chair next to me. I cracked the tiniest smile, but didn't let my train of thought wander from the work in front of me.

"I haven't gone into a coma," I repeated. I didn't say anything else after that and neither did Nik for a moment, until he sighed.

"You must understand why I'm concerned when you respond to my questions like you're in a trance."

I sighed, making a last note before finally looking up at Nik with a tired smile.

"I'm sorry, babe. I know I've been pretty wrapped up in all this lately, but I'm writing a doctoral dissertation in folklore and mythology. I've kinda got my hands full, and if I don't put in the hours to get this done right, it's all going to be for nothing."

Nik rolled his eyes dramatically before fixing me with a look.

"You know, if you just became a vampire with me, you wouldn't have to worry about things like school and work anymore."

I narrowed my eyes. "If I ever make the decision to become a vampire with you, all I'm going to do is go back to college for more degrees and studying. I love doing this, even if it makes me want to walk into the ocean sometimes. All eternity is going to do is enable me to throw any kind of practical job application for my studies out the window."

Nik sighed heavily, but he had a smile on his face all the same.

"I probably could've guessed that answer, couldn't I?"

"Probably."

We shared a smile, and then my attention drifted back to the paper in front of me. I stared at it for a few moments, still half-aware of Nik watching me fondly, when an idea struck like lightning.

"Wait, Nik... I just thought of something." I rushed to turn the paper around on my desk so it faced Nik instead of me. "Do you recognize this? I mean, you've been around for a thousand years. Chances are probably decent that you know something about this, right?"

Nik stared at the paper for a minute, then slowly looked up at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"What did you say you're doing your dissertation on again?"

"I'm focusing on myths that appear to transcend cultures throughout history. There's a couple examples of stories and legends that exist in basically the same form in cultures that had no contact. This one, usually referred to as something along the lines of 'the curse of and the sun and the moon', is the main one I've decided to focus on. So... any chance you can tell me anything about it?"

Nik's tiny smile turned into a full on grin, a twinkle in his eyes as he looked at me. My heart leapt.

"Oh my gosh, you totally know something! Tell me, I can't wait. I'm gonna have to find some sources other than you if I want to put it in my paper, but-"

"This is mine, love," he said. I stared at him, trying to process what his words meant, but I came up empty-handed.

"What do you mean? Is this copy of the myth yours?"

"In a way."

Nik looked back down at the illustration depicting the curse, this one of Aztec origin. It was my favorite of the versions I'd found, although the same curse had also appeared in Roman scrolls and a half-dozen other cultures from around the world. He ran his finger over the lines of the drawing fondly.

"I drew this."

My mouth dropped open, and I looked quickly between Nik, the drawing, and back again.

"What... what do you mean you drew this? This is an Aztec myth from the 13th century-" I stopped short as my mind finally caught up. "...which I guess you were alive for..."

Nik smiled and kicked back in his chair, ankles crossed and a proud expression on his face. I just stared at him in shock.

"There is no such thing as the Curse of the Sun and the Moon, love," he said. "The real thing is the Hybrid curse, placed on me. A long time ago, Elijah and I planted this myth in cultures all over the world to get every single werewolf and vampire in the world looking for the components I needed to break my own curse. And it worked."

Nik finished his explanation with a smirk, but I didn't react. I just kept staring at him, my brain going through the equivalent of a computer's blue screen of death. This could not be possible.

"Hold on a second," I said, holding up a hand to stop my own swirling thoughts before looking at Nik again. "Let me get this straight. You drew this ancient Aztec drawing I have on my desk right now?"

"Yes."

"And you created the Roman scrolls I found that kick-started this project?"

"I did."

"And you completely made up the myth of the Curse and the Sun of the Moon, then did the ancient equivalent of editing it into a bunch of wikipedia articles to make everyone believe it was real, all so other werewolves and vampires would do the work of finding things you needed for you?"

"That's right."

"So this curse, this myth that permeates a dozen different, separate cultures, the cornerstone of my dissertation... is just a lie you made up a long time ago, that nobody ever disproved because you're just so fucking old you could create mythology at the same time that these ancient cultures actually existed?"

"Exactly."

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. Then, my eyes snapped open, and I snatched up a scroll from the top of my desk and hucked it at my boyfriend.

"Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME NIK?" I cried, shooting out of my seat. Nik looked a little shocked, partly because the scroll had hit him smack in the face and then partly because I never got this kind of mad at him. "You can't just fake historical documents to serve your own purposes!"

"Technically, I didn't fake any historical documents. I made them at the same time in history that they're supposed to be from."

"DOESN'T COUNT! My whole dissertation is about examining the phenomena of cultures that had no interactions somehow telling the same stories. There's all kind of examples of it, but this was going to be my ace in the hole, and now I can't use it!"

"Sure you can," Nik said, at last standing from the chair. He was smart enough not to walk towards me, but I hurled a pillow from my chair at him anyway.

"No, I can't! What am I gonna say? Oh, well you see, all these different cultures had the same mythology without talking to each other because my boyfriend is a motherfucker who lied through his teeth to manipulate people, and he's old enough that he completely got away with it!"

Nik shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

"ARGH! I can't believe you- Oh my God."

"What?"

"The stupid fucking vampire myth was going to be another example supporting my dissertation. But that's gone now too. 'Oh, why do all these cultures have the same mythology about a curse and blood-drinking creatures who stalk the night?' Well that's simple, professors! It's because my boyfriend, one of those blood-drinkers, just kept showing up to plant a bullshit story and got other myths written about him in the process!"

"I'm still not seeing the problem, love, that sounds like an excellent presentation."

"NIKLAUS MIKAELSON! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

I rushed to close the distance between us, smacking him in the chest and then continuing to whack him in the shoulders, arms, and chest again.

"You. Can't. Just. Make. Up. Mythology. That. Influences. History. Forever. For KICKS!" I shouted, punctuating each word with a hit. Nik just watched me, not moving even half an inch from the force of my shoves, watching me rage with a small smile on his face.

"I've never seen you like this before, love," he said, his voice silky and low. It only made me want to hit him more. "I quite like it."

"UGH!" I shouted, turning away from Nik all the same. I stared at the desk, my mind finally getting into the later stages of processing. I'd have to completely ditch all this work. "Nik, this is the worst thing you've ever done. And I've dated you long enough to know about the bad things you've done. Holy shit, I'm going to have to ditch so much of this work. I'm going to have to completely change my topic, all because you're fucking ancient and a good artist and a better liar."

After a second, I felt Nik's arms slowly, gently wrap around me from behind. He rested his chin on my shoulder, nuzzling into my hair. Part of me still wanted to hit him, but not enough of me to actually do it.

"I'm sorry, love," he said, voice low and sweet. "Tell me what I can do to make it better."

I huffed a sigh through my nose. "You can tell me where Elijah is. He's a part of this too, I need to kill him next."

Nik chuckled, pulling me tighter to him. I relaxed a little bit into him.

"How about we start with a movie marathon of your choice, all of your favorite junk food, and I dagger any of my siblings who try to disturb you while you're working next week?"

I paused, thinking, dragging out the moment with a little hum. Nik kissed my cheek, slowly moving further along and down towards my neck, and after another minute I sighed.

"Fine. I guess we can start with relaxation and peace. But I am not getting over this any time soon. And I'm still going to attack Elijah the next time I see him."

"It's a deal."

"Of all the things I thought might be a challenge about dating a vampire, I never could've predicted 'destroys my doctoral dissertation by secretly being the subject of my dissertation'."

Nik snorted a little laugh in my ear. "And I never would've thought this would be the closest we came to a deal-braker for you, what with all the murdering I've done."

"I might not be able to claim the high ground on that front much longer."

I twisted around to look pointedly at Nik, but he just smiled right back at me. Wisely, he used his vampire speed to whisk me out of the room before I could look at my ruined dissertation again. This situation was absolutely, completely ridiculous, and I knew I'd probably still be processing for the next few decades. But I loved Nik and the rest of these stupid, lying, ridiculous, ancient vampires, and I'd keep loving them no matter what. Even if I wanted to kill them, sometimes, too.

****************

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

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rrrrinmaru · 18 days

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rin's side stories: 02 - where jenna forces xavier to do his paperwork

wc: 662 rating: G brief: it's always a struggle for jenna to get xavier to do his paperwork. notes: a little insight into the alpha team, gen fic, no romance, canon-compliant, can be read as pre-canon or during canon

“Xavier.”

No response. The body on the couch is so motionless that a civilian would have dialed the ambulance minutes ago.

“Xavier.”

It’s almost impressive. If she were feeling more charitable, she would call it some kind of art form. There are very few people who can simply lie down and look like all the life has been sucked out from them. There is something to be said about how committed to playing dead the figure across the room from her is.

“Xavier.”

Her tone doesn’t brook any disobedience. It forces the body on the sofa to finally shift, fingers clutching the pillow over his face to shift down slightly. Xavier peers at her from under the cushion, blinking blearily at her as if she forced him out a particularly sweet dream.

As if he’s not currently on the clock.

“When you requisitioned the sofa, I didn’t expect you to put it to such use,” Jenna comments, raising an eyebrow at him. “We should put a timer on it. A timer and a repelling collar on you that sends you flying from the sofa when you’ve spent over fifteen minutes on it.”

Xavier pulls the pillow further down, tucking it under his chin. “You would do that to the best Hunter on your team?”

“Who better to serve as a role model for the rest of the team than yourself?”

“Always so cruel,” Xavier sighs, sitting up properly. “The paperwork never ends.”

Jenna eyes the amount of paperwork piled up on his desk, the towering stacks of paper that bury the metal surface of his table. “It never ends because you never do them, Xavier. Get to it.”

“You’re the one in command. You do it.” Xavier gives her a look that is probably the closest thing to earnest, but Jenna’s fallen for it before and she’ll be damned if she falls for it again.

“They’re your missions. The longer you put it off, the more paperwork there will be. All it needs is a simple mission summary—Data Analytics will handle the majority of the information. Look at what Ning wrote: ‘Tuesday morning, Wanderers at Chica’s Pizza, one Wanderer. Pizzeria was full of civilians, maybe thirty in total, full evacuation before engaging. No Protocore. Mission success.’ A total of twenty-five words.”

Xavier sighs. He stands, reluctance written all over his face and weighing his muscles down as he walks over to his desk. “What about something like, ‘I came, I saw, I conquered’?”

Jenna feels a headache come on. Xavier isn’t usually the main cause for her headaches—no, that position is saved for select people, like Nero, the serial escapist, or Andrew, the pain in her ass—but when Xavier gives her a headache, he gives her one that’s sharp and lingers. For ages. Because that’s how long he takes to complete his paperwork.

“No. Captain’s orders. I know you have an excellent memory, Xavier. Once you put your mind to it, you’ll finish your work in no time.” She pauses, then, deciding to strike fear into his heart, adds, “be grateful I haven’t assigned you to liaise with Data Analytics on sifting through the data you bring back from your missions. I could make you list down all the Protocores you obtain from each mission, down to the specificity of each Protocurve. I could make you list the type of Wanderers you face, down to the category and details like how many limbs they had.”

The sound of pen on paper stops. When Jenna looks up, Xavier’s looking at her in shock.

“You wouldn’t,” he says. He sounds hesitant even to her.

Jenna shrugs. This appears to be a surprisingly effective threat against him. She mentally files it away for a rainy day. “Maybe I would. I have the paperwork done up. All I need to do is have my hand slip.”

Xavier shakes his head. “Incredible,” he mutters, pen scratching away on the smooth surface of his documents. “You’re terrifying, Captain.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #l&ds xavier #xavier #恋与深空 #러브앤딥스페이스 #恋と深空 #沈星回 #rin writes l&ds #love and deepspace jenna #lnds jenna #l&ds jenna

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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 1 year

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Where There's a Will, Right?: Dante x Male Reader

SUMMARY: After Dante’s successful defeat of Argosax, he’s been ever-so-slightly more talkative than before; at least, that’s what you think. Both Trish and Lady noticed that Dante’s mood hasn’t improved and, if anything, he has only become more distant. Upon telling them that they’re wrong, they both tell you something that sends your mind reeling.

MINORS DNI--Seriously, go away >:[

BEGINNING NOTES: ✨Dom/Top Dante* x Male Sub/Bottom Reader *Takes place between DMC 2 and 4 on the timeline; meaning Dante’s a bit angstier than normal--kinda Vergil-esc but he gets closer to normal at the end. ✨Unestablished relationship but everyone (including Dante) knows that you have a thing for him ✨The reader lives at the shop ✨Mentioned dark topics (nothing in depth but Dante having been suicidal is mentioned a few times) 🍊🍊🍊 ✨Fluff ✨Angst (? kinda) ✨Smut; Dante’s first time--the reader’s body count is not specified but it is implied you aren’t a virgin--meaning he is very sensitive to your touches. ✨Biting--draws blood and enjoys it. ✨Rougher--It’s not great but I wanted to try writing something a bit rougher, experimentation if you will.\ ✨Oral--Dante receiving ✨Reader gets emotional afterwards; like sad fluffy stuff. 🍊🍊🍊 ✨A little self-indulgent. I could’ve written this as G/N (and if anyone wants a re-write, I can totally do so) but I wanted something a bit gayer than normal smh ✨I know absolutely dick-diddly about motorcycles, so you best believe I just googled all of it lmao ✨Not used to writing Trish or Lady so they might be a bit OOC; if anyone has any better ideas for how they should sound (if they sound off) please let me know! I want to try and use them more often. ✨The reader uses Revenant (as per usual) and Ifrit. How can you use those wonderful gauntlets? You are just stubborn or strong enough to resist their demonic nature; idk just let me have this lmao. Demons are from DMC 1, 2, and/or 4 (Also I didn’t really feel like writing too much combat since “Bound by Blood” is so combat heavy, kinda got bored with it lmaoooo). ✨THIS IS NOT A PREQUEL TO “Deep Regret” THAT FIC. IS STILL IN THE WORKS (AND IS REALLY ANGSTY LMAO)

“Really?” Trish leaned against the wall of the garage, watching both Lady and you work, “You sure we’re talking about the same Dante?”

“What?” you set down the socket wrench and looked over at her, “Don’t believe me?”

“No, not in the slightest,” she mindlessly looked at her nails as she continued, “I don’t think I’ve heard Dante say more than five words at once in years and you’re telling me--”

“That he and I talk all the time?” You stood up, wiping your hands on your jeans, "I mean, we do live together-- what's so hard to believe?"

Lady laughed, catching your attention, “Well, Dante’s not exactly the talking type anymore,” the raven-haired woman turned from the workbench, “Can’t say I blame her, hun.”

“But that’s where you guys are wrong,” you sighed, “I mean, he’s not super talkative but we can hold a conversation for a good while,” you walked over to the stairs, grabbing your open beer on the way, and sat down with a huff, “You’re telling me that he doesn’t talk to you when you are on a job or anything?”

Lady shook her head, “Do you know how rare it is for him to even say “hello” anymore?”

“Bah,” you made a dismissive flick of your hand, “You two are full of shit, there is no way he’s that quiet.”

Trish said something under her breath as she crouched down to check the work you'd done.

“Huh?” You cupped your ear in a joking manner, “I’m getting deaf in my old age, Trish--you gotta speak up.”

“I said,” she stood up and turned to look at you, “Maybe it is because Dante loves you.”

Beer shot out your nose as you choked on it, going wide-eyed feeling flustered beyond belief.

“You can’t tell me you don’t have a thing for him,” the blonde walked over to Lady’s workbench, pushing up on the edge and sitting on the tabletop.

“I do not!”

Lady shook her head, “It is painfully obvious that you have a crush on him,” she leaned her side on the bench, facing you, “I’m sure he knows, too.”

“How is it obvious?! I mean--” You pursed your lips knowing you just dug your own grave.

The women shared a laugh before Trish answered, “The two of you are practically joined at the hip.”

Lady then jumped in, “He won't do anything without telling or asking you first.”

"You're the only one allowed in his room."

"And the only one that can use his weapons without him getting pissed, especially Rebellion."

“Dante stares at your ass a lot.”

Once again, you choked on your drink.

Lady laughed at Trish’s comment with a shrug, “Can't fault him for that, you do have a nice ass.”

The sound of the roller garage door being lifted caught everyone’s attention. In the doorway stood the very topic of the conversation with a few bags of groceries in his arms.

“Welcome home, Dante!" You shot him a warm smile, "How'd shopping go?"

Dante stared at you then at the women, “Why are they here?” His voice was cold and flat, his typical way of speaking nowadays.

“Oh!” Your voice was semi-cheery as you stood up, tossing the beer bottle in the nearby trash, “They stopped by right after you left. Asked to use the workshop for a bit.”

He stared at them for a few more seconds before walking through the garage, past you, and into the shop.

Lady grumbled to herself before sticking out a hand, gesturing at where he’d gone, “See! I told you!”

“You two are looking too deep into it. Dante doesn’t,” you shrugged, “you know…”

“Bullshit!” Lady pinched the bridge of her nose, “I swear-- if the two of you don’t hook up soon, I’m going to--”

A quiet sound of a door being cracked open cut her off. Dante looked at you and quietly mumbled, “You coming?"

“Huh? I-- Yeah,” you smiled at him, “I gotta finish the oil change and I’ll be in, okay?”

He said nothing and shut the door.

Trish slid off the bench with a sigh, “Come on, let’s give the lover boys their room.”

“Try not to break ol’ Dante," Lady jested as she picked up her tool bag, "He’s not as spry as he used to be."

You flipped her off and she stuck out her tongue in return. As they left you meandered back to Dante’s bike, you couldn’t help but mull over what the girls said.

“There’s no way that they are right,” your brow furrowed, “Dante is-- well, Dante. He’s a ladykiller, not into men… right? I mean, he has a mountain of bikini girl magazines-- ”

Lost in your thoughts, your hand slipped and you dropped the open bottle of oil, “Son of a fucking bitch!”

You snatched the bottle as quickly as possible but the damage was already done; over half of the contents were now in a black pool on the floor. A dejected grumble left your lips as you laid on your back, staring at the ceiling of the garage with a forearm resting across your forehead.

“Everything okay?”

“Hmm?” You tilted your head up slightly and saw that Dante was standing right at your feet, “Yeah… Just my good ol’ butterfingers…” Your head hit the concrete again as you sighed and looked at the mess, defeated.

His eyes trailed over to the oil on the floor before he wandered off. You propped yourself up on your elbows and saw Dante had grabbed the cat litter.

“You don’t have to--” He looked at you for a moment before dumping the litter on the spill, “Thanks, I-- Sorry, that was like a brand new bottle,” you leaned up in a sitting position, “I promise I’ll clean it up and replace the bottle.”

“It’s fine,” Dante stuck out a hand, helping you up.

As you got to your feet, you fell into him a bit and found yourself leaning on his chest. Your face instantly became hot as you froze. Strangely, Dante made no move to push you off of him or remove you, he just stood there and waited for you to do so yourself

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your space, hah…”

Dante didn’t say anything, but rather, he grabbed your hand and pulled you inside the shop. On his desk was a box of fresh hot pizza and a few cold unopened beers.

Which in hindsight, you aren’t sure how he got the pizza. He didn’t have it when he entered the garage. Unless he got it delivered at the exact moment he got back… Or he had already stopped back in the foyer of the shop only to come around back to “interrupt” your conversation--but there’s no way he would do that, right?

“So,” you grabbed a slice and sat on the edge of his desk, “What’s the special occasion?”

“ ‘was hungry,” he grabbed a slice for himself and sat in his desk chair, putting his boots up on the tabletop.

A look of shock spread across your face, “Really?"

“What?”

“It’s just,” you shook your head, “I’m just glad that you’re eating, is all," you smiled warmly, "It's nice."

The red devil stared at you for a moment before continuing to eat.

Ever since defeating Nelo Angelo, Dante’s “human” habits had gradually deteriorated. He wouldn’t sleep, bathe, or even eat; any and all self-care was put on the back burner. You had to force the poor man to take care of himself--which is much easier said than done.

At one point, things got so bad that Trish acted more human than Dante. There was a small ray of hope, however; since Argosax’s defeat, Dante had begun to regain some small bits of life. He’d been bathing more often, eating every once in a while, and even smiling again. Most importantly, however, Dante hadn’t tried to off himself in almost six months which was a victory in and of itself for the tormented man; this, by extension, made you feel a little more at ease that the chance of you coming home to Dante on the cusp of death had slimmed significantly.

“Hey,” you pursed your lips and waited for him to look at you in acknowledgment, “Do you care if I turn on some music?”

He shrugged, "Don’t care."

You hopped off the desk edge and waltzed over to the "well-loved" machine. Hitting a random track--and praying to god it worked--you went back to your resting spot against Dante's desk. The two of you sat and ate together, listening to the jukebox and enjoying the quiet company.

===

A loud knocking at the front door of the Devil May Cry woke you up. You must've fallen asleep downstairs. Across from you, in the middle of the room, was the coffee table with a TV that had been playing a DVD’s menu screen for only god knows how long. You were on your side and resting on the floor, in front of one of the couches… Even though there was an open couch adjacent to this one.

A large blanket was draped over you and onto the furniture behind you. That's when you heard a snore and realized why you weren't on the couch. Dante was fast asleep and face down against the coffee-colored pleather. Goosebumps ran up your spine as you realized that his arm was across your chest, his fingers loosely grabbing the fabric of your shirt. Carefully, you slipped away from the sleeping devil and let out a soft groaning yawn as you stretched.

Another set of knocks.

You sighed and stood up, walking over to the door, opening it.

“Ah, good morning Mr. Morrison,” you smiled tiredly at the man, welcoming him into the shop.

“You know, you make me feel old when you call me tha--” he stopped and stared at Dante, who was still asleep on the couch.

A small huff of a laugh came from your nose as you whispered to Morrison, “I know. Shocking right?”

His volume matched yours in return, “That would be an understatement," he turned to you, “Sorry to wake you but I have a job for the two of you that requires immediate attention,” he held out a manila folder.

“What is it?” A flat voice asked, making both Morrison and you jump.

After the two of you took a moment to calm down from the unexpected voice, the broker walked over to Dante and handed him the file, “Huge swarm invaded a nearby city--didn’t even have time to evacuate.”

You walked over to Dante, peering over the edge of the file. He noticed your interest and scooched over to one side, allowing you to sit beside him. As you attempted to read, you found yourself leaning towards your partner, squinting harshly at the small text. Dante moved closer to you causing your sides to touch; which, despite how many times he’s been this close (and closer) to you, never failed to make your heart race.

As the two of you looked at the file, you couldn’t help but remember what the ladies had said yesterday; how stony he is to them compared to how acted with you. Dante might be a bit cold but he has his sweet moments--even if it’s him sharing paperwork filled with pictures of hundreds of demons and a destroyed cityscape.

You whispered to Dante, “So, wanna do it?”

His eyes flicked to you before he looked over the file once more, “Fine.”

“Sweet!” With a jovial smile, you grabbed the paperwork. Your eyes flicked up at Morrison who moved to the edge of Dante’s desk, leaning on it with a lit cigar--as per usual, “We’ll take it!”

The broker shook his head with a small smile, “I’m beginning to think you enjoy these types of jobs.”

“Actually,” you stood up and walked over to him, “I do. Don’t have to worry about destroying things," you handed him the file which he grabbed.

He laughed softly and shook his head, taking a puff of his cigar, “You two are quite the pair.”

You tilted your head in confusion; that’s when you felt an exhale of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end.

“We takin' the bike?” Dante’s voice was low and his warm breath lightly tickled your ear.

“Y-yeah,” you turned your head to the side and were only inches away from the sultry devil.

His turquoise eyes locked onto your gaze for a few seconds before he gave a flat, “Ok,” and went upstairs to get changed.

Once the youngest son of Sparda was upstairs, Morrison laughed as he stood up from the desk, “I’ll let the city know you're on the way. You two be careful,” he nodded goodbye and headed for the door before stopping, turning his head over his shoulder to you, “Don’t forget that there is still a lot of people trapped and--”

“And we should try and help them, don’t worry,” you winked at him, “Dante and I got this.”

Morrison opened his mouth but said nothing; instead, he continued out the door whistling a tune to himself.

You raised a brow at the odd action but decided it was not worth dwelling on.

Humming to yourself, you made your way up to your room. One of the spare bedrooms of (The) Devil May Cry that you were “only staying in for a few months”... that was over a decade ago. A smile tugged at your lips as you reminisced about a time long since passed.

===

Rain quietly beat on the roof of (The) Devil May Cry as the well-loved jukebox played quietly in the background. It had been exactly a year since Dante had officially named the shop and begun to take jobs as a demon hunter. Sitting at the large wooden desk was said devil hunter without a shirt on, only opting to wear his pants and boots. His arms were placed neatly on the top of his desk with his head resting on them, facing down at the tabletop, snoring happily. A half-eaten pizza and several empty beers were scattered about, painting the same old scene that he partook in night after night.

That’s when you showed up in his life.

You burst into the shop, stumbling and out of breath; leaning against the door, holding it shut.

“We’re closed,” Dante didn’t even open his eyes.

Before you could reply, obnoxious loud banging and shouting could be heard from the other side of the door. Dante raised a brow and tiredly looked up at you, curious as to what was pursuing you so fervently. The shirtless young man’s ears twitched as he made out what was on the other side of the large wooden door; it wasn’t demons or devils, it was humans. A mob of what sounded like fifteen to twenty people that were spouting off insults that ranged from vaguely rude statements to flat-out death threats.

Dante sighed, standing up from his desk with a huff. Casually, he grabbed Force Edge from the wall it was resting against, walking over to you.

You, of course, were terrified, debating if it was better to take your chances outside. Bursting into some random dude’s shop was dumb but you didn’t expect a smoking hot white-haired man (who was possibly the owner) to approach you with a massive gothic sword.

He flicked his hand telling you to move off to the side, which you fearfully obliged. With a warm, soft, friendly feeling, he smiled at you revealing his oddly sharp teeth, “You’re gonna owe me for this,” your face instantly became flushed in embarrassment.

Dante opened the door wide open and stepped out of the shop, the large blade resting on his shoulder. As he slowly went down each stair, the mob backed up away from him, “I’m only gonna say this once,” his voice was cold, loud, and angry, the complete opposite of what you’d just heard, “Get lost.”

One of the group’s men decided to act tough and approached Dante, “And if we don’t? What are you gonna--!”

The red devil grabbed the man by the face and held him up, not phased by the man’s struggling, “You know, I hate people like you,” his fingers tightened, “People that just don’t know how to listen.”

Muffled complaints came from the man as Dante’s fingers tightened further before tossing him at the others, knocking several of them over. They helped each other stand back up but none of them moved to leave.

“Now scram,” Dante’s brow furrowed, “Last chance before you really start pissin’ me off.”

With that final warning, the group ran like the wind and disappeared. A small laugh came from the red devil as he re-entered the shop.

“So,” Dante set Force Edge back where it was, “What is a guy like you doin’ being chased by a mob at this hour, huh?” He leaned against the edge of his desk, folding his arms.

“I uh,” your face became hotter and hotter as you looked at the smiling man, calling him stunning was an understatement. It didn’t help that he was lightly soaked from the rain which was dripping down his body, emphasizing his physique, “I just pissed off the wrong folks, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Dante pushed off his desk and wandered over to you, “That why you smell like gunpowder, blood, and demons? Or’s that some sort of weird cologne?”

You froze.

“You know," he continued, "it’s not every day I get to meet someone in the same line of work as me,” he now stood in front of you, his hands stuck in his pockets and a casual tilt to his posture.

“I-- What?”

Dante’s smile widened, “You’re a demon hunter, right?”

Your expression said it all, making the young man laugh.

“Now,” he turned from you striding over to the corner of the room, “as payment for waking me up from my nap,” the white-haired man stood near one of the couches, grabbing his black long-sleeve shirt off the back, “You’re gonna take me with you to finish your hunt.”

As he slid the tight fabric over his body, all you could do was stare. Not only was watching him get dressed semi-erotic, but, the idea that you’d finally met someone else who enjoyed demon hunting like you do was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“That’s what you were doing right?” The red-clad man raised a brow as he slid on his vest, buckling the straps.

You blinked back into existence with a nod, “Yeah, you sure you want to come with? It isn’t exactly a small job, and,” you avoided his gaze, “it’s not only demons.”

“There are cultists, too--I know,” Dante slid on his gloves, “Figured that out the moment I saw ‘em outside,” he tossed his coat on, adjusting the lapels.

“O-oh…”

He meandered over to the same sword from earlier, placing it on his back, “So,” he raised a brow, “We doin’ this or what?”

You smiled sheepishly, “Sure.”

“Ah… Almost forgot,” Dante turned around and opened a desk drawer, grabbing his keys, “Here, catch,” he tossed you a box of shells, “Those work?”

“Really-- I- Yeah, why are you..?”

Dante began to walk out the door, you right behind him, “Can’t do all the work myself, babe,” he turned to you with a smile.

After he locked the door, you led him to a building that was right outside of Red Grave; it was an old abandoned apartment complex. The two of you made quick work of the job; given, it was half-finished from your earlier attack.

Despite not even knowing each other’s names, the two of you fought together quite well. Neither of you got in each other’s way. When you did interact, it was damn near perfectly choreographed; as if you’d known each other for a long time.

“You know,” Dante dodged a Death Scissors, “You’re pretty good at this.”

“Oh yeah?” A small amount of playful sarcasm loomed over your words, “I’m still not impressed with you,” you ducked underneath a Frost’s attack and shot it right in the small of its back, “mister white-haired stranger.”

“Eh,” he used Force Edge to slice three Abyss in half, “Had to leave you something to fight.”

Both of you shared a laugh and stood in the middle of the room, looking around at the carnage. Dante turned to see a cultist trying to escape. The red devil pointed Ebony up and shot the human, much to your dismay.

“Hey,” you shoved his shoulder, “You stole my final kill.”

“Oh,” he holstered Ebony and turned to you, “Didn’t see your name on ‘em, sorry.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and sighed, “Thanks for your help,” you avoided his eyes, which were trained on your face, “I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Dante smiled, “This was fun, been a long time since I’ve had a partner to work with,” he stretched his arms upwards, cracking his shoulders, “Lady’s been off doing her own thing lately.”

“Lady?” You raised a brow, suspicious of the red devil’s seemingly fake person.

“She’s an old friend,” Dante and you began to descend back down the building’s stairs. It wasn’t until the two of you got outside before he spoke again, “Hey, so,” his voice was quieter than before, “You work by yourself all the time or?”

“Yeah,” you sighed and placed a hand on the back of your neck, “Never been able to find someone who’d join me on a hunt.”

“Well,” Dante put his hands in his pockets, “If you want, I’ve got an open spot at my shop...”

“Really?”

“Mhm, haven’t had a partner in a while and could use the company.”

You laughed.

“What?”

“I don’t even know your name and you are offering me a job?”

The red devil stuck out his hand, “Name’s Dante.”

You smiled and shook his hand, “Well, Dante, I think I’ll take up that job offer,” you sheepishly turned your head away and mumbled, “I think I could use some company, too.”

===

“You coming?”

A sudden flat voice from your doorway made you jump with a loud startled shout. Quickly, you turned around to see Dante, fully geared up, and leaning against your doorframe with his arms neatly folded.

“I- Yeah, sorry,” you shook your head, “Just lost in thought.”

Dante stood up, saying nothing, and headed back downstairs into the garage.

With pursed lips, you continued to get ready; that’s when it hit you. Dante must've been standing there for quite some time, watching you; you who was standing in bagging half falling off underwear the entire time. Your face became hot, the idea of Dante seeing you this exposed was enough to make your mind reel. Shaking off the growing hot feeling, you shoved yourself into your hunting gear; which included Dante’s Ifrit and your shotgun, Revenant.

Upon reaching the garage, you saw that Dante had already started the bike and was waiting outside for you to join him. Although you weren’t sure, you swear it looked like he was smiling at you; only hinted at by small creases in his cheeks. You joined him in the alley with a stuck-out hand, waiting for Rebellion, which he gave you. As you slid the sword on your back, you flashed a wide smile and playful wink at Dante. Then you mounted the back of the bike and a heavy wave of embarrassment filled your face as you firmly placed your hands on Dante’s waist.

Without a word, Dante kicked up the stand and you were off. As you held onto him, you couldn’t help but lean further onto his body, your face against his back. His cologne was that of lemongrass, lavender, and a light dusting of patchouli. You took a deep inhale, sighing longingly at the comforting scent; which didn’t go unnoticed by the white-haired hunter.

The two of you arrived shortly at the nearby city. Once both of you dismounted the bike, Dante stuck his hand out--mimicking what you’d done earlier. With a smirk, you pulled Rebellion off your back and held it out in front of you, blade facing down and your fingers tightly wrapped around the grip. The red devil grabbed the sword, making sure to just barely ghost your hand with his in the process.

A bright blush adorned your face as you gave him a small content laugh and looked at the less-then-happy scene before you. To say that the place was crawling with demons would’ve been an understatement.

An irritated long groan came from you as you slumped forward, “Those pictures must’ve been old; this is so much worse,” you looked over at Dante who was staring at you, “Wanna call in the ladies?”

“No,” he turned from you and began to walk toward the city.

With a baffled sigh, you shook your head and jogged to catch up to him, walking right beside him.

When the two of you got to the edge of the zone, a large platoon of soldiers was along the city’s edge. As expected, the two of you were approached by the armed people and questioned as to why you were there.

You sighed softly, “We were hired by the city to come in and exterminate the infestation.”

A mixture of various “bullshit”s and “no way”s were heard throughout the platoon. A greatly unamused Dante slyly reached down and grabbed one of your fingers with one of his, a sign he used when he wanted to move forwards.

“Just stay out of our way,” you shoved past the soldiers, Dante right beside you. Before you got too far, you stopped and turned to the men, “Wait about thirty minutes and start sweeping this end of the city for survivors, continuing further inwards; we’ll have most of the demons cleared out for you.”

Once more there were various forms of ill-natured or overly skeptical comments from the crowd; but, after all these years of hunting, it was expected at this point. The two of you just continued onwards, Dante’s finger still wrapped around one of yours.

It didn’t take long for you to encounter a horde. At first, you were excited and readied Ifrit; however, Dante has taken up to not allowing you to fight anything more than Misras or Frosts. Today was no different.

You vocalized your irritation (as you had done many times before) but it always fell on deaf ears, Dante simply didn’t care. Things came to a head when you were nearly finished with the job and the red devil had been nearly gutted by a group of demons but he still wouldn’t let you fight.

“Dante,” you furrowed your brow as the two of you walked on, “Could you at least let me kill something? I’m getting bored with fighting small fries and playing cheerleader.”

The red devil stopped and looked over at you, but said nothing.

“Come on,” you made your best puppy dog eyes and stuck out your lip in a pouty manner, “Please?”

“I can handle it,” he turned to continue on the path, “You are a human; humans are fragile.”

“Excuse me?” You walked beside him, “You forget you’re human, too?”

“I can heal within seconds,” he glared at you from the corner of his eye, “You can’t.”

You moved your jaw in thought, mulling over things before speaking again, “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should push yourself like this,” the red devil’s head turned slightly, indicating he was listening, “Just ‘cause you can heal…” You reached out and lightly grabbed his bicep, “I’m your partner, remember? I’m here to help you.”

Dante stopped and pivoted to look at you. His brow was slightly upturned and his eyes held an odd unplaceable emotion, “I know.”

A small sad tilt decorated your brow as you lightly squeezed his arm before letting go. You had an inkling as to why he acted this way but had never been able to be sure; hell would have to freeze over before you’d get a clear answer from the red-clad half-breed.

The two of you entered the center of the city where the demons seemed to have come from. In the middle of the large leveled area was a large mass of sorts. Both of you knew exactly what it was, the start of a demon nest.

Almost as if on cue, an insurmountably large quantity of demons revealed themselves. The two of you split apart. Finally, you were able to fight something decent and were relishing in it. Your targets were, for the most part, Blades and Gladiuses; which wasn’t that big of a challenge but it is better than nothing. A smile shot across your face as you got to have some fun with Ifrit for the first time in years.

In the complete opposite of an over-strained Dante trying to deal with several Plasmas and Blitzes.

You had nearly finished up your half (well more like two-thirds) of the horde and destroyed the budding nest before you noticed Dante struggling. Quickly, you killed the last of your targets and rushed over to help the red devil, who had just been thrown through a building.

“Dante!” You kneeled down by him, “Hey, you alright?”

“I’m… fine,” his voice was strained as he tried to sit upright, only to bare his teeth with a grimace.

“Stay here, I’ll take care of this,” you stood up but found that your wrist was ensnared by Dante’s grasp.

“No,” he attempted to stand again.

“Dante, I can handle them,” you tugged your hand away, “Let go of me, please.”

His expression was blank as his fingers only tightened around you.

“Dante…” Now, you are starting to get irritated.

“I can handle them, just let me do it,” he stood up and you saw that his ribcage had concaved, clearly broken.

“No Dante-- You are in no condition to fight right now,” you pursed your lips, “I can finish this,” giving him one last chance to let go.

“No, I am fine.”

“Goddamnit Dante!” You snapped at him and yanked your hands out of Ifrit’s gauntlets, removing Dante’s grip on you, “You’re always protecting everyone else, so please, for once in your life,” you stalked over to Rebellion, which had been stuck in the ground nearby when Dante attempted to stop himself, grabbed it tightly and turned back to him, “Let me protect you.”

His eyes widened, showing a mixture of confusion and anger, but you didn’t give him a chance to refuse. You had already gone off and were slaying the rest of the demons using Rebellion. If Dante wanted you to stop, he could have recalled his sword; he should’ve recalled the blade but, for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to.

Although you were still concerned for Dante, you couldn’t deny that you were having the time of your life. You'd only been allowed to use Rebellion one other time on the field, which was shortly after being hired at the DMC. The feeling of wielding such a mighty blade was insurmountable; not only that, but the frictionless feeling of slicing through demons was damn near erotic. A wide smile spread across your face as you finished off the final few demons, pinning the final Plasma down into the ground using the blade.

“You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“You’re just jealous that I got more kills than you,” with a playful shake of your head and a small laugh, you pulled Rebellion back out of the ground and turned around. Dante had healed and was giving you quite the venomous glare, your expression dropped, “What?”

He aggressively grabbed the sword from your hand, placed it on his back, and turned to walk back the way you came, “We’re leaving.”

You bent down and picked up Ifrit, sliding the fiery devil’s gauntlets back on, “Huh? We haven’t done our sweep back--”

“Now!” His voice was much angrier than you’d heard in a long time, so you remained silent and followed behind him.

The walk and ride back to the shop were eerily quiet. Neither of you said a word, not even to the soldiers that you passed in the city. During the bike ride, you did your best not to latch onto the red devil and held onto the bike itself--which wasn't exactly comfortable or easy, but you were pissed off and didn't care.

As the two of you entered the shop, you had thought about saying something to the devil but weren’t going to give him that satisfaction; no, you just silently went up to your room and slammed the door behind you. Leaving him in the foyer, alone.

Doing your best to ignore the guilty feeling in your gut, you hopped in a quick shower and took a small unintentional cat nap on your bed right after. Around an hour later, you woke up and groggily wandered downstairs to get a glass of water--and to see where Dante had gone. As you looked around, you pursed your lips in confusion. Dante typically after a job would just get drunk at his desk or on the couch but he was nowhere to be found. It was rare for him to actually go to his room; but, then again, it is even rarer for the two of you to have a disagreement or fight like this. A sigh left your lips as you traversed back to your room. A small amount of regret lingered at the edges of your mind for using such harsh words at the poor devil.

Mindlessly, you had wandered to stand in front of his room and stood there with your hand up, ready to knock. After a minute you decided to put your hand back down, hoping that maybe he’d be the one to come to you and apologize for once. With a heavy sigh, you entered your room and turned the light on, then nearly had a heart attack.

There, sitting silently on the edge of your bed, was Dante in his boxers and a long-sleeve black baggy shirt. His forearms were resting on his legs--one of which was bouncing nervously, his hands intertwined as he mindlessly twisted and played with his fingers, and his gaze fixated on the floor.

“Uh… Dante? Everything okay?” You shut the door, set your glass of water down, and slowly walked over to the bed, sitting beside him.

“You remember why I hired you?” His voice was soft and sad, something was wrong.

You shook your head, confused at the seemingly out-of-nowhere question, “Huh?”

“Do you remember why I hired you?”

“Because you said you needed company..?”

His lips twitched at the answer; however, he said nothing and just stared at the floorboards in front of him.

“Dante?” You gently and cautiously grabbed his forearm, making his leg stop bouncing.

His voice became even softer, becoming barely audible, “Do you regret it?”

Your brow softened as your fingers gripped him tighter, “Dante…”

His brow furrowed as he moved his jaw for a second before giving you a sad huffed laugh, “I wouldn’t blame you if--”

“Stop,” you stood up and moved to stand in front of him, then knelt between his legs, “Look at me,” his eyes coyly met yours as you grabbed both his hands, “I have never regretted anything I’ve done with you, nor will I ever.”

A small quiver found its way to Dante’s lip, “Why?”

“What do you mean why?” You gave him a bittersweet smile, “I like being with you, Dante.”

He opened his mouth but no sound came out, only a crack and a small whimper as tears filled his eyes. Then you did what you should’ve done the moment he started talking, you stood up and enveloped him in a tight hug. Dante quickly wrapped himself around you. The red devil’s fingers dug into your back and grabbed generous handfuls of your shirt.

Half-formed sentences and choked-up versions of “I’m sorry” are all that he could manage through the unwavering barrage of tears. All you could do was hold him tight and tell him that everything’s okay--that he doesn’t have to apologize, not for breaking down like this. Gently, you kneaded against his shoulder blades and placed one hand in his hair, petting him. You noticed his hair was wet; which, not only meant that’s where he was when you were searching for him but, this was the first time he'd taken a real shower in nearly three weeks. It seemed like a lifetime had passed before his tears began to slow, eventually boiling down to just small hiccups.

However, his hold on you didn’t loosen, if anything, it got tighter. You had placed the side of your face against the top of his head and quietly hummed, hoping to comfort him.

“Hey…” Dante’s voice was thick and quiet, a hint of nervousness ghosted his words.

“Hm?”

“Would it be okay to stay like this? Just for a little longer…” He waited with bated breath for your response.

“Mnmm… How about this,” you pulled back from him, making him hesitantly release you. A small warm smile tugged at your lips as you straddled his lap and re-wrapped yourself around him with your legs around his middle, “This okay?”

Through your shirt, you could feel Dante hum with a small smile, “Mhm,” his arms regrafted themselves to your body as he pushed his head into your body.

The two of you sat together for nearly two hours, Dante softly purring against your skin as you lightly rubbed his back and played with his hair. If the front door hadn’t opened, the two of you would’ve stayed linked together for much longer.

“I’ll get it,” you slid off his lap but were stopped by Dante grabbing your wrist.

“Do you have to?” His expression was oddly shy, which sent a sharp pang of love through your heart.

“Join me?” You smiled as you pulled him up. A small surprised laugh left your mouth as you felt him lace your fingers together.

A bright smile adorned your face as the two of you made your way downstairs and found Morrison standing in the foyer.

“Afternoon, Mr. Morrison!” You waved with a small happy noise but realized that he was staring with wide eyes.

“I’m not… interrupting, am I..?”

You stared at him in confusion before you realized how the two of you looked; both of you were semi-disheveled, only in underwear and a shirt, and Dante’s hand was in yours, “No! No- not at all! We-- It’s not what it--”

“You are," Dante released your hand, moving further into the room, “but it is my fault for not locking the door. What’s up?”

A sputtered confused noise left your lips as your face became unbearably hot, mortified at what Dante was implying.

Morrison laughed, “Blunt as always, huh Dante?”

“Why bother lying about it,” Dante leaned against his desk, arms folded casually.

The broker shook his head with a smile, “I’m just here to drop off payment from the job earlier,” he handed Dante a thick envelope, “The client was impressed with how quickly the two of you worked--made sure to get it to you just as fast and added a little extra cash, too.”

“Oh? Really?” Dante opened the packet and counted the cash quickly, “Huh… Thanks, Morrison.”

Morrison did a double-take, taken aback at not only Dante’s words but, Dante’s willingness to talk, “No problem, Dante…” The broker looked over to you with a raised brow before turning to leave, “Sorry for interrupting, I’ll lock the door on the way out. Goodnight you two.”

“ ‘Night, Mr. Morrison!” Your voice was sweet but still had a lingering sense of embarrassment to it.

Dante opened the top desk drawer and tossed the money in it, smiling.

With a sudden nervousness, you approached the pants-less devil and joined him near the desk, “So… What was Morrison interrupting, Dante?”

His turquoise eyes slowly moved up to meet yours, a heavy odd feeling behind them.

Your face became even hotter as you swallowed hard, “Dante..?”

“We were sitting together,” small creases formed on his cheeks as he smiled wider, “Why? Did you have something else in mind?”

Another loud set of sputtered discombobulated noises came from you, unsure how to respond to such a loaded question.

A dark chuckle came from Dante as he meandered over to you, slowly inching you towards the wall behind his desk, then placing a hand beside your head, “Something wrong?”

“No, I--,” you closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to keep yourself from spontaneously combusting in embarrassment, “I’m f-fine.”

He lifted a brow and placed his free hand on your cheek, running his fingers gently across your skin, “I dunno, you seem rather feverish… You’re not sick, are you?”

“I’m just a little warm, that’s all,” you let out a half-hearted laugh, doing your best to ignore the pounding in your chest.

The red devil wasn’t satisfied with this answer and moved his face closer, putting his nose right beside yours, and made half-lidded eye contact, “I don’t believe you.”

Bit by bit, you leaned closer to him, placing your lips as close as you could without touching his. The two of you hovered for a moment before Dante pulled away and turned to look to his right, “Do you mind?”

You mimicked Dante's action in confusion and saw Trish standing in the shop.

“Lady forgot a few things in the garage,” Trish raised a brow and addressed you, “You believe us now?”

“Trish!” Dante’s face was bright red, “Seriously?”

“What?” She placed a hand on her hip, “You do love him, don’t you?”

Dante mumbled something you didn’t quite catch before his voice returned to the previous volume, “Can you leave? You’re kinda killing the moment.”

“Just make sure that you two can work in the morning, we have a contract to do.”

“Trish!”

She gave you a wide smirk and a wink, “Have fun.”

The two of you waited for the garage door to shut before Dante sighed, “Guess the moment’s kinda ruined, huh?”

He sheepishly turned to you, to which you grabbed his shirt and yanked his lips down to meet yours. A surprised muffled grunt came from the red devil as he placed his hand over yours, his thumb slowly running over your skin and removing you from his shirt. Gradually, he regained control over the situation and pushed you back against the wall. His lips were broiling and desperately pushing against yours, almost painfully so.

Dante grabbed the sides of your hips, picking you up slightly, so he could pin you against the wall using only his body and a knee that he had placed between your legs. Your hands frantically grabbed at his body, eventually settling for one hand in his hair and the other groping at his upper back. His hands wandered all over your body, sliding underneath your shirt and touching as much as you as he could.

Eventually, you managed to wrap your legs around his middle and his hands slipped down to support you from underneath your thighs. You cupped his face in both your hands to deepen the fervorous kissing. The red devil bit lightly at your lips, asking to enter your mouth. At first, you didn’t let him and playfully denied him entrance. Dante wanted to taste you and wasn’t taking no for an answer, forcing his tongue inside. His tongue was hot and he wanted nothing more than to explore every bit of your mouth, to devour as much as he could. The unexpectedly long appendage made you jolt and gag slightly in surprise, which made Dante smirk with a small amount of pride.

Only once you were both out of breath did the two of you separate, leaving you with labored breathing and hazy loving smiles.

Your thumbs gently rubbed the stubble that decorated his jawline, “Dante, do you really..?”

He meekly smiled and mumbled, avoiding your eyes in embarrassment, “You think I’d treat anyone else like you..?”

You placed a soft kiss on his forehead, “I love you… So much”

A soft huffed laugh came from his nose.

“What?”

He placed a small kiss on the side of the base of your neck, “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

You laughed softly, “Dante,” he looked up at you and you ran a hand through his hair, “You want to know something?”

“Hmm?” He began to purr and melt into your touch.

“Although, there’s obviously more a more emotional aspect now,” you broke eye contact and turned away to avoid his gaze, “When we first met if you had asked me to… ya know… I would’ve,” your face was completely on fire as you regretted opening your mouth.

“Oh?” Using one hand to support you, he used a hand to turn your face to his, “What was that now?”

Your voice was high-pitched and cracked from embarrassment, “N-nothing!”

He had a sultry smirk tugging at his lips as he ran his thumb over your trembling lips, “You know, I thought about asking for that--instead of joining your hunt.”

“You-- you did?” Your face only became hotter with each word.

“Mhm,” Dante put his lips above yours again, “Not every day a smoking hot, sopping wet, guy busts into my shop.”

The two of you connected lips again and Dante’s hands gripped the sides of your thighs harshly, his nails digging into you, and dipped your ass lower to meet his growing heat. A small growl came from the back of the red devil’s throat as he ground his hips against you. Your hands grabbed his shoulders as you let out a small moan from the friction of Dante’s grinding. In response, Dante began to roll his hips harshly against you, shoving you against the wall with each thrust. Your hips jolted from the sudden rough movements and you broke from the kiss, letting out a low hissing groan. Dante, however, wasn’t done tasting you and immediately placed his lips back over yours; making sure to devour each one of your sweet noises.

He turned around and began to support you using only one hand again. With his free hand, he moved his mother’s photo to the desk drawer, closing it softly, and then swept his arm across his desk, throwing everything else off the top--making an absolute mess of the already cluttered shop.

Dante dropped you onto the desk and broke the kiss. Quickly, he removed your shirt and began to bite at whatever he could, making you squirm from the sudden, almost animalistic, aggression. His teeth broke through your skin and Dante excitedly lapped up the crimson lines, letting out a continuous lowly growl. A sharp loud gasp left your mouth as you arched your back towards him in response to him biting your neck; still drawing blood as he did for the other marks. Your fingers dug into him only further encouraging him to do it again.

However, you weren’t about to let Dante have all the fun. You kneaded your way down his torso and to the edge of his boxers. Coyly, you palmed over his bulge with widening eyes. Of course, it was easy to tell that Dante had a nice dick from how visible it is through his pants but you didn’t expect it to get that much bigger.

The sultry devil caught onto your sudden surprise and let out a small breathy laugh against your neck, “What’s the matter, babe?” He ran his tongue along one of the bleeding marks, “Surely you knew..?”

“I,” your mind was blank, “I thought you were a shower, not a grower,” you let out a half-huff half-laugh noise through your nose.

“Oh, just you wait,” a small seductive laugh came from him as he leaned back up to look you in the eyes, “Still not quite there yet.”

You rolled your eyes and casually draped your arms over his shoulders, “You know, just cause it’s big doesn’t mean anything if you don’t know how to use it,” you let out a playful low laugh, staring at him with half-lidded eyes.

Dante leaned in, “Oh, don’t worry,” he kissed you again, “I know exactly what you like,” smiling happily.

The two of you exchanged loud pecking kisses, “Mhm, sure you do.”

He stopped and left his lips right above yours, his breath ghosting your kiss-swollen lips, “I can hear things, you know…”

Your eye went wide, “Wh-what are you--”

“Every night, in your room,” he moved to kiss right behind your jaw, whispering against your skin giving you goosebumps, “Begging for me, saying my name,” he ran his tongue along the shell of your ear, “You’re much louder than you think, babe,” Dante gently bit your ear before he leaned back up to meet your gaze.

All you could do was stare back. Admittedly, it had crossed your mind a few times over the years that Dante might be able to hear you but you figured that he would’ve said something by now; especially with how long it’s been since you moved in. The idea that Dante had been listening to you for so long made your entire body hot and threw you for a loop.

Through all your discombobulated noises, you finally managed to sputter out, “Why didn’t you tell..?”

“Because,” he leaned in, intensifying his eye contact, “I get off listening to you,” he kissed your jawline, “I love hearing you come undone.”

A shiver ran up your spine as you completely froze.

The red devil noticed your change in expression and began to panic, “I didn’t upset you--!”

You yanked him down to your mouth, kissing him harshly once more. As you did, your hands ran up his shirt and began to grope at his pecs, eliciting a moan from the white-haired devil. Your nails ran down his body leaving loving irritated red skin, making him groan much louder.

He broke off from the kiss and quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head, tossing it in a random direction in the shop. When he looked back at you, his heart skipped a beat at the face you were making. Although you were obviously already flustered, your face had turned darker by tenfold and your eyes were wide; staring directly at Dante’s bare body.

“What?” He smiled with a tilt of his head and hips, “Like what you see?”

You coyly reached out to touch his chest again, Dante watching you intently. Softly, you kneaded against him and whispered, “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

Now it was his turn to become red in the face, “H-huh?”

“I said,” your voice returned to normal volume, “You’re gorgeous, Dante…”

He stared at you. Although the red devil plays the confident type, his self-esteem was rather poor, and, to be quite frank, he hated how he looked most days; being reminded of his dead brother every time he looked in a mirror. However, hearing you say something so simple and, yet, so impactful made his head spin and his heart wrench.

You leaned in and placed a string of gentle kisses along his collarbones. As you did, you could hear him purring ever-so-slightly and were able to feel the vibrations through your lips. Eventually, Dante snapped out of his stupor, he slipped his hands into your underwear and found purchase on your ass, groping and kneading against you harshly. Next, you placed kisses up his neck and placed a long kiss against his Adam’s apple, pushing against it slightly; eliciting a groan from Dante.

Now back up at his lips, you connected with him once again. The red devil leaned you back onto the barren desk, without breaking the kiss, and pulled your hips tight to his. Once you were fully laid back, Dante moved down your jaw all the way down to your chest with soft kisses. A loud hiss left your mouth as you felt him bite down on one of your nipples, tugging on it slightly--doing his best to make sure he didn’t give you an accidental piercing.

“Fuck… Dante,” you ran your hands through his hair and looked down at him, he was already staring back at you; something was different, “Hey,” he released his bite, “You-- You alright?”

His brow twitched in confusion and he tilted his head, his gaze thinned.

“Your uh… eyes are--” You pursed your lips, his eyes had become a vibrant burning red-orange

“Oh- Oh!” Dante laughed softly, “Don’t worry about that,” his voice was quiet, seemingly shy, “I’m just excited, that’s all.”

You smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek, thumbing over his flushed skin. He moved back up to you and stared down at you. His eyes are the exact same as when he uses his Devil Trigger except for his pupils, which are heavily dilated. It was a chilling reminder of how dangerous Dante really is, how much stronger than you he is.

“Are you sure you are alright with me-- with us-- doing this?” His brow was upturned and his voice was filled with a unquenchable lust that made your entire body hot.

“Of course,” you gave him a long drawn-out kiss and bit his lower lip, slowly pulling on it, “I wouldn't have it any other way,” you felt him shift his hips slightly and whispered against his lips, “I want you, please, Dante.”

He nodded and took a deep breath, leaning back up.

Before he could do anything, you sat up and pushed him away lightly with your fingertips on his chest. A sultry smirk tugged at your lips as you slowly slid down to your knees, placing the occasional kiss along his abdomen.

Dante’s breath hitched upon realizing what you were doing, “You don’t have to- ah~” He let out a small groan at the feeling of your lips against his still-clothed cock.

You looked up at him and placed a few more kisses down his trapped shaft, feeling him twitch against you. With almost painfully slow movements you kissed back up his shaft then slid your fingers behind the band of his boxers, pulling them down. His cock sprung up proudly, already dribbling pre-cum.

With a small smirk, you looked up at him and ran your tongue up the underside of his dick, making sure to lap up the small bits of milky fluid. His eyes broke from yours and were staring upwards.

“Dante,” you stopped, making him look back down at you, “Look at me, please,” you leaned back in closer to his body, whispering against his sensitive flesh, “I want to see if you are enjoying what I am doing or not”

He swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath, “I don’t know how long I… If I watch you.”

You smiled and let out a sultry laugh, placing a kiss on the underside of his tip, “That’s fine, as long as I get to watch you cum.”

The red devil’s face was bright red, not only from your words but from, watching you give his slit small kitten licks. You made your way down his shaft with slow kisses again, reveling in how much he was squirming from your touch. Once down to his base, you moved to the side--between his cock and the meat of his thigh--and bit down on him, leaving a loving dark mark. All the while Dante was groaning quietly as he bit his lower lip, attempting to stifle his vulnerable noises. In fact, he was biting down so hard that blood had begun to trickle down his chin.

After you felt the mark was dark enough, you placed several kisses on his balls and curled your tongue around his shaft, moving from the very base all the way back up. Slowly, you placed your lips around his cockhead and made sure to watch as Dante released his lower lip, unable to contain himself any longer. Bit by bit you took his length into your mouth, to the best of your ability; it’s not every day you suck an eight-inch cock after all.

Unhurriedly you bobbed your head up and down, making sure to savor his taste and the lewd mewls that he was making. You used one hand to play with his balls, making him buck his hips at the unexpected touch. Cautiously, he placed a hand on the back of your head, his fingers just barely ghosting against you. Noticing his hesitation, you used your free hand to push his palm harder against you. As you worked yourself into a rhythm, you noticed that he was moving his hips gently into you, making you take him in ever-so-slightly deeper with each intake.

You placed your free hand on your own dick and began to stroke yourself at the sight of Dante towering above you. He was breathing heavily with half-lidded eyes and was moaning sweet praises; such as “Holy shit” or “Goddamnit”.

After a while, you moved back to kiss down his shaft and his balls. Carefully, you licked his sack and took one of his balls into your mouth very gently sucking on it.

Dante put his hands against the wall, pushing up, and arched his back as he let out a loud unfiltered moan, "Fuckin~~! God~" His fingers clawed through the wallpaper, all he wanted was to grab you and fuck into the back of your throat, but he needed to be careful and have patience; the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

As you released his ball, you lightly ran your teeth against the skin, making him let out another loud moan. You flattened your tongue and ran it up between his balls, making sure to go slowly between them, all the way back to his tip only to generously give his slit more kitten licks.

Once again, you returned to bobbing up and down on his cock, moving a bit faster this time. One of your hands began to fondle his balls again whilst the other wrapped around to hold the back side of his thighs; encouraging him to thrust harder into your face. The red devil caught on quickly to the idea and placed both his hands on the back of your head and began to thrust his hips into you.

Admittedly, it was perhaps a bad idea to encourage him to face-fuck you since he managed to make you deep-throat him; something you weren’t able to do. Tears sprung to the corners of your eyes at the feeling. All you could do was wrap both your arms around his thighs and hold on for dear life, hoping he didn’t get any rougher.

Thankfully, it didn’t take Dante long to reach his peak. Your eyes met with his and he let out a thunderous whining moan as his fingers dug into the back of your head, pushing his cock as far into your mouth as he could. As expected, his cum didn’t taste the greatest--caused by his diet or lack-there-of, it was very salty and rather bitter. On top of that, he was choking you and pushing rather hard into the back of your throat but that didn’t matter much; you got what you’ve been lusting after for so long.

The look on his face alone made it worth the probable sore throat in the morning. He was disheveled with his hair falling in front of his face, some of which was stuck to the thin layer of sweat on his brow. His eyes were heavy and even more dilated than before. A dark red stain adorned his lower lip from his own smeared blood. Heavy labored breaths left his ajar lips, giving you a good look at his sharp teeth. You could tell that he wanted you, that he wasn’t done with you yet; which is exactly what you’d hoped for.

You felt him pet the back of your head as you removed his cock from your mouth. With heavy eyes of your own, you looked up at him with your mouth hung open slightly and breathing heavily. He noticed the tears that had finally run down your face and thumbed them off your cheeks, cupping your face in his hands.

Without breaking eye contact, you leaned against one of his hands and took his thumb into your mouth, biting it softly.

Dante’s voice was soft, “Can we do more?”

With a smirk, you let go of his finger and stood up, placing a hand on his chest, “You sure you’re up for it?”

The red devil picked you up, placing his head between your neck and shoulder, whispering in a low dark tone, “My room or yours?”

A shiver ran up your spine, “E-either one’s fine-!”

Dante bit down softly over one of the marks he made earlier in an attempt to satiate some of his growing desires, internally he felt himself becoming increasingly impatient. After a minute of thought, he went upstairs with you still in his arms and kissing your marred skin. Dante decided to use his room; after all, he knows where his lube is--plus he doesn’t have to worry about ruining your bedding, bed, or room in the heat of the moment.

He supported you with one arm as he futzed with the doorknob. You grabbed his face and moved it to yours, kissing him once again. Dante’s kisses were much less innocent and sweet this time; this time, they were overtly lustful and sinful. He wanted to indulge both himself and you in these unholy urges, to make you feel as good as he does; which, come hell or high water, is exactly what he’s going to do.

Finally, he got the door open and pushed it open using your back. Your hands made their way up to his hair, grabbing handfuls of it as he placed both his hands on your ass, pulling you as tight to him as he could. The only light in the room was provided by the sunset that was peaking through the blinds on his window; which poured directly onto the bed. He brought you both to the foot of his bed and laid you down, moving his kisses down your neck and to your shoulder.

When Dante leaned up the sight before him is one that will be immortalized in his jumbled mind. You were a hazy mess and were sprawled out on the untidy sheets. The sunlight gave your body a golden glow and only emphasized how beautiful you are to him. You looked heavenly, angelic almost. A small amount of pity sat at the edge of Dante’s mind, pity at how he is going to stain your pure and holy nature; how this devil is going to destroy you.

He grabbed one of your hands and kissed the back of it, placing genteel warm kisses up your arm and stopping on your shoulder. His breath was hot and tickled your ear as he whispered to you, “I love you,” he placed a long kiss on the side of your neck, “So damned much…”

Before you could speak, he placed a soft peck on your lips and stood up, moving over to his bedside table. You scooched up further onto the bed and Dante climbed onto it, a bottle of lube now in hand, sitting on his knees. To say he looked stunning was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he looked heavenly or if he looked demonic; perhaps he is both a devil and an angel wrapped up in a half-human shell. The sunlight made him appear god-like; between the sheer definition of his frame and the orange eyes that were trained on you, he looked surreal. Said eyes were flicking all over your body, absorbing every bit of you that he could, but he was hesitant; what if he messes things up?

After a few minutes, you sat up and placed a hand on his bicep, “Hey, you okay? We can stop if you don’t want to do more, Dante.”

He shook his head, “No, I want this, I want you. I just--” his gaze broke from yours and mumbled, just barely audible, “I’m nervous.”

You gave him a gentle smile, thumbing over his arm, “You’re doing great, Dante,” you leaned the top of your head against his chest, closing your eyes, “Besides, that’s supposed to be my line.”

He let out a warm laugh and placed his hands on your back, kneading against you.

After a moment, Dante leaned you back down and slid his hands into your underwear. He pulled your last bit of clothing off and tossed it somewhere within the messy room, then he took his own off; leaving you both completely exposed. The red devil then paused in thought for a moment before carefully turning you over onto your stomach.

You peered over your shoulder at Dante. He was staring at your bare form, biting his lip. A small groan left your mouth as you felt him place his warm hands on your ass, kneading. After a moment, you heard him shuffle around and then he sat for a moment. A sharp gasp came from you as you felt him smack your ass then aggressively grabbed the slowly redding side. Dante’s lip twitched into a smirk as he did it again, hearing you let out another moan.

He put both hands back down and groped at your ass, listening to your whimpering beneath him. Admittedly, he wanted to continue teasing you but he was losing grip on his own emotions; fighting back an urge to Trigger. So, he let go of your tender flesh and grabbed the bottle of lube. Instinctively, you put your ass up a bit; laying in a downward dog position. Dante split apart your cheeks and applied a generous amount of lube before slowly running his finger around your hole.

A small buck of your hips back told Dante you wanted him to hurry up so he slid one finger inside you. You buried your face into the bedding in hopes to suppress your voice but were quickly pulled back up by Dante’s hand carefully around your throat.

Through a strained growl, Dante confidently huffed, “I want to hear everything, and,” he leaned down, slowly adding a second finger, and whispered in your ear, “I don’t want you to fake anything.” He kissed the back of your neck, “I want your real reactions, ‘kay?”

Quickly you nodded, laying your head to the side and letting out a quiet groan as you felt his fingers fuck into you faster. Dante curled his fingers towards himself and felt you jolt forwards as you let out a guttural groan. So, he repeated the action and, when you repeated the same response, he continued to do it faster and faster.

Dante added more lube and slid in a third digit and saw that your brow furrowed a bit, grimacing slightly; however, you didn’t tell him to stop so he pushed it in further. As he played with your hole, he noticed you had begun to practically ride his hand. Mindlessly he opened his mouth and began to play with his teeth using his tongue, he found himself distantly regretting waiting so long and wished he had been able to gratify these taboo feelings sooner.

“Dante,” you stared at him from the corner of your eyes, “I want you,” you felt his fingers quicken, making you moan, “Please, Dante.”

The red devil shifted his jaw in thought, still playing with your ass. He wanted to watch you squirm underneath him longer but he couldn’t deny that he was also growing increasingly desperate. With a small sigh, he removed his fingers and gently coaxed you to turn over; laying belly up.

Slowly, he ran a hand down your middle and gently thumbed over your aching cock, and the pre-cum that decorated the tip. You whimpered from the unexpected feeling of your long-neglected arousal. Dante leaned back to sit his butt on his heels and, using some lube, stroked himself to the sight before him.

Once fully slicked up, Dante aligned himself with your hole. A devilish smirk tugged at his lips as he teased you, running his tip along your hole; he wanted to hear you beg as he had heard in secret for so many years.

“Please Dante,” you pursed your lips and rolled your hips, “Please, I can’t-- Please~!”

With a low growl, he pushed his tip inside and you let out a sharp gasp at the feeling.

Bit by bit Dante entered your body. You were doing your best not to tighten your body around the unfamiliar feeling. Admittedly, it made your whole body tingle in delight; never had you had such a large partner--living or plastic--making this quite a new and thrilling experience. It took nearly a minute for Dante to finally be fully inside and both of you were already on edge. You reached up for Dante’s head, pulling him down for a kiss. Your legs rested on the outsides of his hips, allowing him to bend down fully to kiss you. The kisses were slow, loud, sloppy kisses; both of you were a mess.

Dante sat back up, holding you around your thighs, and ever-so-slightly pulled back then pushed back inside. He continued these small careful movements for some time.

“More, please, Dante,” you spoke between heavy breaths, “I don’t want you to hold back,” you flashed him a warm sultry smile, “Do whatever you want with me, Daddy~” You added a playful wink to the end and laughed as his eyes went wide with embarrassment.

Your laughter quickly died down when you felt him quickly pull out over half his length and jab it right back in eliciting you to let out a loud unfiltered moan, “Do whatever I want, huh?” He gave you a dark full-teeth smile, you felt your stomach drop in a fearful arousal type of way.

Dante pulled out almost the whole way and, once again, slammed right back inside. You let out another sharp moan and arched your back at the feeling. The red devil repeated this action until all you could hear in the shop was his balls hitting your ass and you spouting out random jibberish; singing the devil’s praises.

You went to jack yourself off but were stopped by Dante’s hand grabbing your wrist. Without slowing down, Dante leaned down and looked you dead in the eye, “You only get to cum when I say you can, babe.”

“What~Ah~!”

Dante yanked you up to sit on his lap, making hard deep hard jackrabbit thrusts right into your prostate. As he did that, he also had begun to bite over your skin again and his hands hand found their way to your ass; groping it hard. You wrapped your arms around him and held on to him, leaving deep scratches on his upper back. His lips met with yours again for more sloppy wet kisses, his hands slowly traveled to underneath your thighs.

In one swift motion, he had both of you up off the bed and you pushed against his wall. His thrusts had slowed to a moderate pace but were still short, only pulling out two or three inches. You decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and bit down on his shoulder. Dante let out a loud sharp unfiltered moan and his fingers dug into your skin, clawing into your thighs.

Once you felt the mark was deep enough, you placed a few more; making sure to mar up each side, and with each bite, you got another frantic moan. You leaned back to admire your work and felt him start making longer, more drawn-out movements, purposefully teasing.

Now resting his head against the side of your neck, he placed a few kisses, “I don’t remember saying you could bite me, babe.”

“Whatcha gonna do about it, hm?”

Dante pulled out of you and the next thing you knew you were being pushed face down into the floor, his hand grasping the back of your head tightly. He re-inserted himself inside you and began to fuck you even harder than before; pulling out to the very tip and slamming into you. Using his other hand, he took one of your arms and held it behind you, pinning it to your back. Your free hand was stretched in front of you and you were gripping the floor with your fingertips, desperately trying to ground yourself.

Admittedly, you were on cloud nine as you felt him continuously re-penetrate your hole. Your legs felt weak and you began to, unknowingly, drop your hips down; which caught Dante’s attention. The red devil pulled himself back out and took you to the bed, laying you face up. He remained on his feet and re-inserted himself, then yanked your legs up and over his shoulders. All you could do was grip the bedding tightly and continue to babble random moaning phrases to him, egging him on further.

This pose didn’t last long, Dante removed your legs and leaned down to you. He gave you a long impassioned kiss before resting his forehead against your chest. One of his hands grabbed yours, intertwining your fingers, and the other found purchase on your cock. With each jab inwards, he jerked your dick in rhythm with his hips. Your free hand gripped his hair, holding him into your chest.

Dante’s voice was ragged and low, almost desperate sounding, “I don’t know how much longer I…”

“Cum inside me, Dante,” you didn’t even need to hear the rest, you knew that he wanted to know what to do.

He moved his head to rest between your neck and shoulder then picked up his pace tenfold, in both his hips and his hand. Your body arched tightly against his and your fingers clasped even tighter around his hand and his hair. It only took a few more short sharp jabs for him to reach his climax, spilling himself deep inside you. Dante’s teeth sunk deep into your skin, breaking it once again, and creating a vice grip on you.

The hot feeling from his cum quickly spread throughout your body as his pace around your cock sped up, the combination of the two soon brought you to your own peak, “Fuck, Dante~!” Your voice was loud and semi-whiney and you pushed your head against his.

A gentle purr could be heard from him at the sound of your orgasm, despite him still having his teeth sunk into you. You gently ran your fingers through his hair and felt as if you were going to cry. The two of you laid connected for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being so close.

Dante carefully removed his bite, making you let out a hiss in pain, and released your hand from his. He leaned up and gently removed his cock from your body, making a shiver run up your spine. With a happy content huff, he relaxed back down on you and propped himself up by resting his forearms on your chest. A warm smile and half-lidded eyes adorned his face as he placed a soft innocent kiss on your cheek and then rested his chest on his arms, staring at you.

Your hands slowly ran up his biceps and rested on his shoulders, mimicking his smile with one of your own. As you thumbed over his skin, you couldn’t help but think about how much you truly cared about Dante. Wandering thoughts devolved to the memories of coming home to a near-dead Dante laying on the bathroom floor; which only further darkened to the idea that it could always happen and, someday, you might not make it home in time to--

“Hey,” Dante’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. His smile was gone and his brow was creased, “What’s wrong?”

A tremble found its way to your lips as you stared at him and you realized that you had several tears running down your face. Unable to spit out what you were thinking, you spoke with a small crack in your voice, “Can you come closer?”

He gave you a small sweet smile with a happy huff, “Here.”

Dante stood up, picked you up, and placed you on the bed--laying you the correct way. The red devil then slid onto the bed next to you, placing his head on your chest. He laid with his body half on top of you and wrapped his arms around your middle, allowing you to do the same. Although you typically would’ve immediately gone to wash up after such a strenuous event, you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of him. A loud robust purring filled the room as both of you relished in the feeling of holding one another.

You placed a soft long kiss against the top of his head, lingering against him for some time before whispering sweetly against his disheveled hair, “I love you, Dante; you know that, right?”

The red devil turned his head to look at you better and placed a soft kiss against your lips, “I love you too babe,” he placed his head back on your chest, nuzzling into your hard, his arms wrapping tighter around you, “So damned much.”

ENDING NOTES: ;skfajfjlkdsjafkldj this wasn’t supposed to be this long--it’s 22 pages in docs; how the fuck-- This was supposed to be a short Dante smut fic, what happened lmaooo 🍊🍊🍊 Quick thing: If you are curious as to why I think a younger Dante would have issues with how he looks; it is because it reminds him of Vergil (Vergil has the same issue when his hair is down, thinking he looks like his brother--I mean, they are twins after all). 🍊🍊🍊 You know, I have written quite a bit of smut, right? So you’d think that I would stop laughing and getting embarrassed over writing words like “nipple” or “balls” but no, I fucking still giggle to myself like a fucking idiot when I write those words like… wtf is wrong with me smh Like I sit here typing one letter at a time all flustered when writing those two words specifically even though I just wrote about Dante fingerings the reader or like the reader linking Dante’s pre-cum like wtf is wrong with me lmaooo

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

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use-your-telescope · 10 months

Text

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 9: Something So Brand New

Summary: Theo makes good on her promise to Loki, and shenanigans ensue.

Author's Notes: So this is a longer chapter than I usually post, but given it all takes place during the span of one evening it didn’t make sense to split into two chapters. If you love Loki/Theo interactions, you’re in for a treat here. There’s also Brodinsons and Wanda/Theo friendship building as well.

I’m *hoping* to post my next chapter on December 10, but I sense that we’re about to hit a rocky patch at my job as a series of stressors all collide (aka shit’s about to hit the fan), so I’m going to give myself a one week buffer and say that the chapter will be up by no later than December 17th. It’s written, but I’ve found that I like to go back and do an in-depth editing pass before posting that usually takes at least a few hours… Essentially, I would rather underpromise and overdeliver than say I’ll post something and then just… not.

Oh, and RE: shit hitting the fan at work - I’m not worried about myself amidst the work stuff (I’m not about to lose my job or anything). I'm worried about the students I work with and how they’ll handle everything… And since my job is supporting said students, I imagine I’ll probably have my hands full. I’m intentionally being vague for privacy reasons, and in hopes that it doesn’t blow up so my concern is pointless.

Completely unrelated, but I saw The Maine live last week and they opened with this song! They put on a great live show. 10/10 do recommend.

If you enjoy, please reblog!! I'm a lil' blog and reblogs really help me out <3

Content Warnings: Alcohol/Drinking (including getting a bit too drunk).

Word Count: 9,384

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Dose No. 2 - The Maine

First breath out of a coma Over and over Oh what a lovely view of you A two step into disorder I stumble forward Towards something so brand new

“Hey, uh - some of us are going to hang out up on the roof tonight. Want to join?”

Ever since Theo relented to Loki’s begging (and though he wouldn’t admit it, he totally begged her to join them), a foreboding sense of dread hung over Theo like a storm cloud, waiting for this very moment. A night of forced socializing and feigned pleasantries as the other Avengers tried not to make their suspicions about Theo painfully obvious - Theo would rather watch paint dry.

Across the threshold, hope radiated through the smile on Wanda’s face. She stood with hands in hoodie pockets, jeans and birkenstocks completing the Scarlet Witch’s look for that day. The outfit surprised Theo - from observation, Wanda only wore pants when working out, opting for skirts and dresses in daily life. Theo would have confidently bet real money that Wanda didn’t even own a pair of jeans.

Then again, it wasn’t the first time Theo was wrong, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Every possible excuse percolated in Theo’s mind for why she couldn’t join - lying about having plans, claiming she was tired or didn’t feel well, even outright admitting she didn’t want to go – but then Loki’s voice interrupted her thoughts, reminding her about the deal she struck.

And, well, after reading about the aftermath of Ultron and Sokovia, Theo realized they had more in common than she first thought.

“I— yeah, sure.” Theo swallowed thickly, steeling herself for a miserable evening. She forced a smile at Wanda, praying that the expression didn’t look as uncomfortable as it felt. “I’ll join - let me grab a couple things first.”

Wanda’s face lit up, eyes wide as planets as she processed Theo's answer. “Great! This is going to be awesome! Uh, you should probably grab shoes, and maybe a jacket - it’s still a bit cool out.” She babbled, still gaping at Theo.

Theo held up a finger, stepping away from the door before Wanda could continue. She grabbed a thick sweater to cut the breeze, toed on some sneakers, and plopped a beanie over her hair, pausing in front of a mirror to make sure she didn’t look like a total mess.

Wanda practically bounced down the hall, constantly glancing back to check and make sure Theo hadn’t abandoned her. Theo trailed behind, listening to Wanda recount the construction of the rooftop lounge and how this was the first year they actually could use the space, and how excited they were to finally have a nice, private outdoor space to gather. At best, Theo half-listened along, her pulse quickening with every step closer to their destination.

As they stepped out onto the rooftop, it actually seemed like the perfect night to enjoy a city skyline and a cold drink.

A fully stocked bar stood along the far end of the roof, while plenty of outdoor seating offered opportunities for everything from lounging around to enjoying a meal. The space even featured a fireplace table and heat lamps for cooler nights, which already had been turned on to cut the chill. True to the Stark aesthetic, all of the furniture came in muted tones and clean lines, sharing design language with the indoor common areas.

The other Avengers had settled in among a series of outdoor sectionals, some standing around the periphery while others gathered near the bar. As they drew closer, Theo realized that the company for the evening consisted of not only Avengers Tower residents, the Avengers who resided elsewhere…

Oh god, when Theo caved to Loki’s request, she had not expected it to play out like this; she thought it would be a movie night, or going out to dinner. Not everyone and their mother staring at her.

As if she sensed Theo’s nervousness, Wanda grabbed Theo’s hand and smiled at her, pulling her towards the larger group.

With every step, Theo braced herself for an icy reception, all the while building up the courage to put on a brave face. She met everyone once, that first day when she was announced as an Avenger - maybe twice, if she counted the briefing that she crashed - so at least there were no new faces.

Small blessings, she supposed.

Wanda didn’t go of Theo’s hand until they reached the edge of the group. It only took Wanda a moment to find Vision, standing behind one of the sectionals as he chatted with Shuri about something very science-y. Vision casually wrapped an arm around her, listening intently to Shuri, who gestured animatedly as she responded.

Nearby, King T’Challa sat tall, dressed in a hybrid of western and African clothing with shoulders squared back as he conversed with Natasha about the United Nations and Wakanda. He spoke with a measured cadence that indicated he put great thought and intent into his words. On the opposite side of Natasha, Yelena slouched back in her seat, scrolling through her phone while laughing at something on screen.

Not far from Yelena, Peter Parker told Tony about school and the latest device he was building. His enthusiasm struck Theo, and she caught herself smiling as she noticed the way Peter mirrored Shuri’s animated gestures, hands flailing wildly as he attempted to describe the contraption. Colonel Rhodes listened from the other side of Tony, with open posture and head tilted to the side, nodding along patiently… It was quite the contrast, especially next to the borderline manic tendencies of Tony and Peter’s unbridled enthusiasm.

Nearby, Bruce spoke with Dr. Stephen Strange - a tall, thin man whose expression was entirely too serious and his posture uncomfortably rigid, which, if Theo thought about it, made sense for a former neurosurgeon. Sharon Carter chatted with Steve, Sam, and Bucky, laughter regularly erupting from the quartet; apparently, they were familiar with each other and had a lot to catch up on.

Clint looked at home behind the bar with Scott Lang, snippets of conversation about their kids floating over the other conversations as they prepared drinks for everyone and brought them over to the group.

Loki and Thor sat in deep discussion with the Valkyrie (or, as Loki often called her, Val) about something related to New Asgard; seeing a Valkyrie in a chunky sweater and Timbalands still threw Theo for a loop, but she knew that different people would adapt different aspects of life on Earth.

Thor noticed Theo standing there, bewildered at the sight of everyone in one location.

“Lady Theo!” Thor exclaimed, standing to greet her. “Welcome to your first family night!”

Wait - did he just say family night?

Theo could practically hear the world screech to a halt as everyone fell silent, gaping at the new addition. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she froze in place, a veritable deer in the headlights.

“Brother—“ Loki hissed, rolling his eyes as he elbowed his brother. “Do not overwhelm her.”

“Uh… hi?” Theo cringed at how pathetic she sounded. “Sorry, didn’t mean to disrupt.”

“No apologies necessary - come, take a seat.“ Loki offered Theo a reassuring smile as he gestured for her to sit next to him.

“Watch out, the prince is rescuing Rapunzel.” Tony teased, a smirk on his face as he raised a glass to her.

“Watch out everyone, Stark is jealous that a woman is not racing to offer herself up to him,” Loki retorted, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Raucous laughter came from Loki’s response; even Theo giggled as she sank into the cushions beside him. Loki, in turn, flashed a smirk and winked at her, before effortlessly folding Theo into the Asgardians’ conversation. Without needing to ask, Scott brought Theo an old fashioned, which caused a rush of gratitude to flood Theo’s veins.

The alcohol wouldn’t have much of an effect on her, but having something to occupy her hands with was always appreciated.

Likewise, the others returned to their conversations. Over time, topics shifted and incorporated other people, slowly snowballing as everyone tuned into the larger discussions.

At one natural lull in conversation, Loki went to refill his drink, leaving a vacant spot beside Theo in the process. He barely made it behind the bar when, with a whoop, Shuri leapt over the sectional and claimed the seat as her own. “Ha ha!” Shuri’s face was smug as she shimmied into the cushion, crossing one leg over the other as she stretched her arms along the back of the seat. “This will make a lovely throne.”

Despite the stutter of her heart from Shuri startling her, Theo couldn’t help but laugh when she caught T’Challa rolling his eyes at his sister.

“Excuse me, that was my seat!” Loki scowled, gesturing wildly to where he previously sat.

“Not anymore.” Shuri stuck her tongue out at him. “Besides, you speak to Theo all the time. It’s my turn.”

The latter part of Shuri’s comment nearly made Theo choke on her drink - up until that point, hardly any attention was paid to Theo’s presence. Was that about to change?

“You are lucky I like you, princess,” Loki rolled his eyes, but let out a breathless laugh and shook his head. “Or else I might banish you to an alternate realm.” His threat lacked any teeth; if anything, it came off as a joke. He offered Theo a reassuring glance and the slightest nod, as if encouraging Theo to trust that Shuri wouldn’t make it weird.

Theo masked her nerves with a sip of her cocktail, allowing the notes of smoke and citrus to coat her tongue.

If Shuri noticed the interaction, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she struck up a conversation about a funny tiktok trend that made her think of Theo, eventually morphing into a conversation about medical technology.

Seat stealing, however, was only the prelude to a series of hijinks during the evening.

It started innocently enough. A few drinks into the evening, Tony entertained the team with one of his tales about inventions gone wrong - this time, DUM-E had sprayed a visiting SHIELD agent with a fire extinguisher instead of the computer that actually caught on fire.

While he rambled, Wanda glanced over and made eye contact with Theo. Wanda rolled her eyes before mouthing, “Want to see something fun?”

Theo nodded, curious to see what Wanda was going to do.

A moment later, Tony reached forward to grab his drink and take a sip of it, only to stick his hand through the glass…

Where a nearly empty cocktail previously sat was nothing more than an illusion.

Theo’s eyes darted to Wanda, who stood behind Tony sipping his drink. Theo had to bite back a laugh as Wanda grimaced and shook her head, not a fan of whatever Tony had in his lowball.

“What the hell happened to my drink?” Tony whipped around, looking to see if someone had hidden it. His eyes settled on Loki, who glanced around at the others as he held his own drink, casually taking a swig. Either Loki hadn’t noticed, or he was really good at keeping a straight face.

“Reindeer games, I swear to god-”

“I thought we’d moved past such childish accusations.” Loki cocked an eyebrow at him, unamused.

“He didn’t move, Stark. Chill.” Bucky defended the Asgardian prince.

“Well someone took it, and it wasn’t Captain Stick-in-the-Mud.” Tony retorted, looking around the group. The glass vanished from Wanda’s hand before Tony could see it, presumably returning to the table where it started.

“Okay guys, this isn’t funny,” Tony whined, completely oblivious to his beverage’s return to the table.

To her left, Theo caught Loki taking a large drink of whatever was in his cup to stifle a laugh – he knew exactly what Wanda was up to.

Just then, Tony turned back around to discover his drink in its original location. He groaned, slouching back in his seat. “Anyone who wants to turn in their cape for stand-up comedy, just let me know.”

As he returned to his story, Wanda winked at Theo before sending her a text message– “So we have a game during family time...”

Theo stared at the screen for a moment before typing out a reply. “Which is…?”

Wanda’s face lit up as she read the message; a playful smile pulled across her lips as she typed out a reply. “How many pranks can we pull off before one of us starts laughing.”

Suddenly, a message from Loki popped up as well. “The only rule is that no one should be harmed. Otherwise, it’s fair game.”

Oh. Apparently Loki was playing along too.

Another message from Wanda came in: “You want in?”

Tempting, but with her reputation…

“Sounds fun, but not sure…” Theo responded, “I don’t know that the others trust me. Pranking them might make it worse.”

“If anything, they’ll believe I am the perpetrator,” Loki assured her via text message. “My affiliation with mischief and trickery lends itself to suspicion.”

Not only did Loki speak like he just read a thesaurus, but he even texted like it.

Theo stared at the screen for a moment, weighing her options. On one hand, she could stand to loosen up a little and have some fun. On the other hand, pranking someone could go over like a lead balloon if the prank didn’t land well; she needed to be confident that whoever she pranked would not be upset if she partook.

By then, Sam launched into a story about his last trip to see his sister and nephews in Louisiana. Bucky had tagged along, in part because the point of the trip was to fix up the Wilsons’ boat, and Sam knew he’d need an extra set of hands. A pigeon waddled about on the roof, only a few feet from where Sam sat. Sam, however, was oblivious to the bird’s presence; he was too busy mimicking how Bucky stole Sam’s tools to fix a leaky valve instead of simply using his vibranium arm.

After over a month of listening to Julie pine endlessly over Sam and his down to earth personality, ass of a national treasure, and good-natured sense of humor, Theo swore she knew more about Sam than she knew about her own cousin…

An idea sprung to Theo’s mind. She set her glass on the table, casually lowered her hands out of sight, and whispered an incantation.

“How do you know vibranium would hold up to the steam?” The pigeon asked, cocking its head to the side as it waited for an answer.

Sam nearly leapt out of his seat as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“Wait a minute, wait just a minute – please tell me you all just heard that.” Sam stared at the others as they all gawked at the pigeon. Theo, however, snatched her glass and took a sip of her old fashioned so she didn’t give herself away. “Did that bird just talk?”

“Falcon, I did not realize that your skill set included speaking to birds.” Loki answered without missing a beat.

Theo nearly spit out her drink as she fought the urge to burst into laughter.

“Hey, just because I’m called Falcon doesn’t mean I like birds.” Sam argued, a twinkle in his eye as he settled back into his chair. He must have known there was some magic at play; if Theo was lucky, he would not know whose magic created the illusion.

“I want some of whatever he’s drinking,” Theo pointed at Sam, pretending to be oblivious about the use of magic so she did not draw suspicion. “Because that must be some good shit.”

“No,” Tony replied, “The good shit is the Asgardian stuff.”

“That stuff will knock you on your ass unless you’re a god,” Sam agreed with a toothy grin and a nod. “Even the super soldiers get drunk on it.”

“Tony, I’m assuming you tried it?” Sharon asked, narrowing her eyes at the billionaire.

“Of course I did,” he scoffed, putting a hand on his chest, “I am a connoisseur - had to see if the hype was true.”

“Until you had the hangover from hell the next day.” Natasha pointed out, a smirk dancing on her lips while she crossed her arms.

“Please,” Tony retorted, “It barely holds a candle to the frat party from hell-”

“-in your second year at MIT.” Rhodes, Sam, and Steve answered simultaneously, all rolling their eyes.

Tony must have told that particular story a time or twenty before.

“Lady Theo,” Thor called from behind the bar. “I’m about to refill my beverage. Would you like to try some Asgardian ale?”

Theo glanced over at Loki and raised her eyebrows at him, hoping he’d give her some sort of subtle cue about whether it was a good idea; he just smirked at her and winked.

Not helpful at all.

Then again, the night had gone well up to that point…

“Sure, why not?” Theo replied with a short shrug of her shoulders. She assumed that he’d take a shot glass from the bar and put a little ale in the glass - it may fuck up a normal person, but that was probably only when consumed in large quantities. A small amount of the ale wouldn’t hurt, right?

What she didn’t expect was Thor to bring over a massive mug of ale, filled to the brim.

“That’s alcohol poisoning about to happen,” Yelena cracked up as she saw the size of the mug.

Nearby, the Valkyrie cackled. “Thor, remember that Midgardians can’t handle booze like you can.”

“My liver hurts just looking at that.” Bruce commented, letting out a nervous chuckle but shaking his head.

Well, whether she wanted to share or not, the Avengers were going to learn something new about Theo.

“Oh, that’s what healing magic is for. Healing your liver after alcohol damage.” Theo quipped, earning a surprised snort out of Tony. A surge of confidence rushed through her as she winked, glanced at the deep red, clear liquid, then took a drink.

Given the ale’s reputation, Theo expected it to taste like everclear - practically straight ethanol that burned when consumed. However, a delightful, complex blend of flavors - citrus, juniper, and caramel - coated her mouth. Only a hint of hoppy bitterness accompanied, but each flavor in the unlikely combination balanced the others surprisingly well.

Theo smiled and gave Thor a nod of approval. “That’s better than I expected,” she admitted before she took another drink. “I was expecting something that burned my mouth from the alcohol content, but this is downright pleasant.”

“I bet you twenty bucks you can’t finish that.” Bucky challenged, a smirk spread across his features as he leaned back into his seat.

Bucky had no idea what he was getting himself into.

“The bet is just that I can’t finish it? That’s boring. Of course I’m going to finish it.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. Sitting up a bit taller, she puffed her chest out in defiance and drank a large swig of ale.

“The real bet would be if she doesn’t throw it up afterwards – just because it goes into her system doesn’t mean she won’t get sick from it.” Steve pointed out, “Not that I think this is a good idea, mind you.”

Remarks like that were probably how Steve earned the nickname of “Captain Stick-in-the-Mud.”

Theo whipped out her wallet, throwing a $20 bill down on the table. “Game on. $20 bet that I can drink this and keep it all down.”

Bucky reached across to shake Theo’s hand before putting in his own $20 bill.

Shuri and Yelena whooped in support, pumping their fists in the air. Bruce sighed as he shook his head and rubbed his temples. Steve rolled his eyes, while Clint smirked and shot Scott a look of well, this should get interesting. Peter’s eyes widened, despite furrowing his brow - he looked like he was worried.

What a sweet, sweet summer child.

Theo took another sip of the ale, then spoke up. “We need some tunes playing. It’s too quiet up here.”

“Oh! I have some new music we can listen to!” Wanda jumped at the opportunity to hook her phone up to the wireless speakers. “It’s a local band that Vision and I saw last week. Theo, I think you’d like them – they sounded kind of like the music your band played.”

It was hard to imagine Vision at a concert, standing there with relatively stiff posture as other people were grooving to the music… He must have really liked Wanda to let her bring him to concerts. Did he like the same music as her?

Did he even like music?

Did androids have likes and dislikes? Or feelings? How did that work?

That was a rabbit hole to go down another day.

What sounded like some generic indie-pop music started to float through the air, but it was pleasant enough to be good background music.

Loki sent another message – this time solely to Theo. “Are you truly planning to drink the entire mug?” Theo looked up at him, his eyebrow cocked up with skepticism and his chin dipped as he made eye contact.

“Maybe I am.” Theo replied, smiling at him and winking as his phone buzzed.

Asgard wasn’t the only realm with particularly strong alcohol, and despite Theo’s small size she was no lightweight.

The group resumed their casual chatter. Wanda, Theo, and Loki continued to cast illusions and mess with the team in subtle ways, oftentimes struggling to maintain a poker face as the rest of the team grew drunker and drunker, and as a result became much easier to mess with.

Eventually, Thor regaled the team with one of his latest adventures off-planet, voice booming as he gestured grandly about some battle he fought in. As the story started to near its climax, Theo caught the way Loki’s hand moved quietly to his side and twitched as he cast a spell.

Theo’s eyes darted around as she tried to figure out what changed – it wasn’t until she looked up at Thor that she found her answer:

Loki transformed Thor’s mug so it was shaped like a giant penis… while Thor drank out of it.

Wanda, who stood beyond Thor’s line of sight, lost it, face beet red and shoulders bouncing as she doubled over in silent laughter.

From what Loki previously shared, Thor reveled in sharing stories where he prevailed as the savior of the day. With that in mind, the choice to make Thor look absolutely ridiculous as he drunkenly extolled his heroism seemed like it was as much a jab at his self-importance as it was just plain old hilarious. Theo hadn’t taken Loki to be one for juvenile humor, but she had to hand it to him – it was well-played.

Even better, Thor didn’t even notice the change – he set the mug down on the table as he continued his story, and later on picked it up to take a swig to wet his throat.

It didn’t take long before the others started to notice the mug’s new shape. The Valkyrie looked like she about to keel over; her shoulders shook so hard from silent laughter that if Thor turned around he’d know something was off. Natasha had to bite her finger to stop herself from breaking into laughter. Steve and Peter shared wide-eye, startled expressions, leaning away from Thor… who still hadn’t noticed.

The more time that passed without Thor noticing, the funnier the spectacle became.

Finally, Sam finally couldn’t take it anymore.

“Wow Thor, you’re really swallowing that ale like a champ.”

Tony choked, then spat out his drink while the people around him recoiled from the spray. Steve turned downright crimson with secondhand embarrassment, hiding his face behind his hands.

“Yeah, you’re really gripping the shaft of the mug like it’s your job.” Bucky added, trying and failing to keep a straight face as Thor looked over at Tony and Steve, confused.

Theo’s eyes watered from trying not to laugh, and her jaw hurt from the muscle tension involved with maintaining her poker face.

“Dammit, I’m biting my tongue so hard to stop from laughing that it’s bleeding.” Wanda’s message popped up in the group chat, while Loki still effortlessly maintained a completely straight poker face and relaxed posture.

“I thought you were a bit too high-brow for a good dick joke…” Theo added, fingers tapping the screen furiously as she replied.

“I know not of what you speak,” Loki answered innocently; he glanced over at Theo and winked, then followed his message with an eggplant emoji.

Wanda nearly spit out her drink when she got that message.

Thor finally put two-and-two together as he looked down at his mug, then glared at his brother; however, he was laughing despite the glare, giant shoulders bouncing up and down. “Why must you taunt me so?”

“I hold no responsibility for this madness!” Loki protested, though the sparkle in his eyes told Theo that Loki knew he wasn’t going to convince them otherwise. “God of mischief I may be, but I’m hardly the only capable sorcerer on this team.”

“Well Theo’s been too busy downing some Asgardian ale,” Bucky commented, “And Wanda… Wait a minute. Wanda?”

They all turned to look at Wanda, who gave a deer-in-the-headlights expression as she pretended to be horrified. “The fact that you could imagine me doing this is mildly offensive,” she exclaimed, silently glaring at Loki. “Besides, Strange can cast spells too.”

Everyone looked over at Dr. Strange; one unamused eyebrow raise was enough to dispel any thoughts that he’d been the one behind it.

“Let’s be real – Reindeer games would be the one to make that joke.” Tony pointed out, “Which… well played, I’ve gotta say. Not much makes me spit out my drink like that.”

Loki smirked, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “You need to raise your standards, Stark.”

Steve, who was still mostly sober and desperate for a change of topic, looked back at Theo and noticed her nearly empty mug. “Wow, you weren’t kidding about finishing the ale.”

In turn, Theo downed the remaining ale and placed the mug on the table. “Yeah – It was good. But I’ve gotta say, for all the talk about how it will get me drunk, I still feel pretty sober. Are you sure you weren’t messing with me? This isn’t some fraternity-style hazing thing to bring a new team member on board?”

“No, my lady,” Thor confirmed, “That was genuine Asgardian ale. I must say, I’m impressed.”

Theo cast a glance over to Loki before sending a text. “You didn’t mess with this, did you?”

“I would never deny someone the opportunity to get drunk.” Loki looked dead serious as he sent the message, so she took his word for it.

“Well shit,” Bucky replied, his words slurring ever-so-slightly from his own alcohol consumption. “How about double or nothing – we each drink a mug of ale, and whoever is more sober at the end of the night gets $40.”

Steve tried to cut in. “Bucky, no –“

Bucky, yes.

“Deal.” Theo shook his hand again, confident that she was about to become $40 richer. Not only was Bucky already more drunk than her, but the Asgardian ale would only exacerbate the difference in their sobriety levels.

He probably wouldn’t end up with alcohol poisoning, so it’d be fine. Maybe a hangover, but not alcohol poisoning.

“Now here’s the thing -” Bucky began, “- Before your mug can be refilled, you have to do the Asgardian call for another drink.”

“Which is…?” Theo arched a wary eyebrow, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

With perfect timing, Thor finished his beverage and demonstrated by throwing his mug down on the ground, shouting “ANOTHER!” as the glass smashed against the concrete and shattered into a million pieces.

Theo gasped and nearly flew out of her seat from the noise, heart pounding in her chest. She looked at the glistening fragments of glass, then up at Thor, then back down at the glass.

Thor failed to stifle his laughter as Loki rolled his eyes in the background; with a flick of his wrist, the shards of glass vanished in a flash of emerald light.

“Yeah that’s going to be a hard pass from me, dude.” Theo shook her head, stood up and walked over to the bar to refill mug. While she was behind the bar, she also pulled out a fresh mug for Bucky.

“Oh no, you don’t get to pour – we need someone neutral to do it, so we know it hasn’t been messed with!” Bucky called out, shaking his head at her as he moved to join her at the bar.

“Well I can certainly be the judge of that.” Loki volunteered, his voice a cool contrast to the rambunctious shouting and cheering that echoed from the rooftop.

“You’re really letting loose tonight,” Loki’s message appeared on Theo’s phone. “It’s nice to see you relax a bit.” Theo blushed and cracked a sheepish smile.

Loki strolled behind the bar, took both mugs and filled them up. Once satisfied that each mug contained the same amount of ale, he handed one mug to Bucky and the other to Theo. He then filled a mug of his own before returning to the rest of the group.

“As the judge, I reserve all right to document any embarrassing moments for blackmail in the future.” Loki told everyone quite seriously. Shuri cracked up and added that if Loki didn’t capture the evidence, she certainly would, and with how the Princess of Wakanda held her phone at the ready, Theo fully believed her.. Theo returned to her seat, noticing Shuri had saved her place; Bucky trailed close behind.

“You say that like I’m going to do something embarrassing.” Theo teased, holding her mug up to Bucky and Loki as if to suggest a toast. “To Bucky making one of the dumbest bets he’ll ever make.”

“To the new girl finally gracing us with her presence,” Bucky replied with a wide grin, “and not realizing she’s about to lose the bet!”

The rest of the group held up their glasses and clinked them together, after which Bucky managed to drain about a quarter of his mug in one swift drink.

“I didn’t realize this was a chugging contest.” Bruce commented with a nervous laugh as Bucky set his mug down.

Theo, recognizing that rapid alcohol consumption would not help Bucky in the bet, snickered. “You can’t enjoy it if you chug it, you know that right?”

Bucky offered a coy grin in response, his cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol in his veins.

He really had no idea what he was in for.

And I feel alright (Feel alright) Yeah I feel alright, Alright… I let go This is something spiritual When I say so Give me life, give me love Leveled up on a higher dose No sorrow (baby this is chemical) Hit just like an antidote (can’t come down, down) Adios (give me, yeah give me) Give me life, give me love Leveled up on a higher dose

This was certainly a different side to Theo than Loki had ever seen.

Her guard wasn’t up in the same way it was at Stark’s party, nor was she silent and reserved, as if it were a mission briefing or meeting. The relaxed, easygoing demeanor that Loki eventually uncovered after multiple interactions made its debut amongst the others, and for the first time since the infamous briefing, it seemed like Theo wasn’t afraid to be the center of attention.

In truth, Theo’s decision to join in the evening’s activities surprised Loki. Though Theo agreed to stop declining the invitations from Maximoff, Loki had expected that this would not be the occasion which Theo relented, as the large group could be rather intimidating. Instead, he anticipated that Theo would wait until she could verify that it would be a small gathering with ample opportunities to depart, should she grow uncomfortable.

Instead, the sight of Theo trailing behind Maximoff as they crossed the rooftop brought the first of many pleasant surprises in the evening. If the expression Theo wore when Thor addressed her provided any indication, Theo had not anticipated such a robust gathering, and for a moment Loki feared she might teleport away from the immense attention suddenly focused on her.

Luckily, that had not been the case. From time to time, Loki caught Theo glancing towards him with a silent question in her eyes, usually as if trying to assess the situation, but as the evening wore on the questioning glances decreased, replaced by smirks and thinly veiled attempts to refrain from laughing at the others.

Perhaps the greatest surprise in the evening came when Theo agreed to not only try some Asgardian ale, but challenge Barnes to what one might consider a drinking contest with the aforementioned ale. Given Barnes held two significant advantages - his substantially larger size and the physiological changes from the super-soldier serum - the odds seemed stacked against the sorceress. If anything, Loki suspected that hubris fueled Theo’s decision.

However, he was far too curious about the outcome to consider intervening unless things turned sour, and up to that point he saw no cause for concern. Theo seemed fine, continuing to engage in conversation while working through her beverage. Occasionally, Loki caught himself staring at Theo’s petite hands, her dainty fingers wrapped around the massive mug of ale. If he could be honest with himself, The juxtaposition was rather adorable.

Barnes, unsurprisingly, was the first to finish his ale. Theo, however, was not far behind.

“I have a proposition.” Banner spoke up, looking between the empty mugs with a twinkle in his eye. “I think we should give these two a field sobriety test and see who is more sober… For science, of course.”

Loki, unfamiliar with the test Banner mentioned, hesitated. “And what exactly does a Midgardian sobriety test entail?”

“Oh, it’s easy.” Theo assured him, standing up and stretching both arms overhead. “You just answer some questions and do some basic tasks, like walking in a straight line and balancing on one foot for a while.”

Loki studied Theo with some doubt; when she didn’t notice, he messaged her. “Are you certain it will be so simple?”

Theo typed and sent her reply without even looking at her mobile’s screen. “Bucky’s about to get destroyed.”

Barnes swayed the moment he stood up, nearly tripping over his own feet as he made his way towards the area where they set up the test. He hadn’t even walked half of the line marked out before it became clear as crystal that Barnes was utterly toasted.

Theo, meanwhile, seemed only lightly buzzed. She easily completed the straight line test… while walking on her hands.

“A woman after my own heart,” Romanoff laughed, clapping as Theo finished the test. “It’s not often we have team members who are able to move like that.”

“Girl, you’ve gotta teach me how to do that,” Shuri exclaimed, “That’s dope as hell!”

Theo gracefully returned to her feet, pausing for just a moment to adjust her clothes before she feigned a curtsy and smirked at Barnes, who simply groaned from where he sat.

From what little Loki knew of Theo’s background, the ability to walk on her hands came as no surprise - she had formal training in acrobatic maneuvers, and her goaltending demonstration highlighted her agility. Yet, she did not seem like the sort who would walk on her hands for fun… Though from what he had seen, she certainly was the sort of person who would do so to prove a point. Quite frankly, It was the kind of thing that Loki might do if he were in her position.

All things considered, it seemed like Theo might share Loki’s penchant for mischief and trickery.

“Normally gods are the only ones who don't get knocked on their ass by Asgardian ale.” Stark commented, brow furrowed and eyes narrow as he studied Theo.

“Asgard isn’t the only place with abnormally strong liquor,” Theo casually explained, shaking out her shoulders and stretching her neck. “There really are some places with nothing better to do than drown your sorrows!”

Loki couldn’t help but laugh at her comment, though the choice of words piqued his curiosity. Of course there was the realm she refused to speak of, yet it sounded as if Theo referred to more than one location. Had she visited other realms as well?

Surely, she was exaggerating.

“You’re talking about Michigan, right?” Stark teased.

“No, I’m talking about spending time with you.” Theo deadpanned, winning a lively round of jeers and laughter of the group.

Not done showing off, Theo proceeded to balance on one foot for five minutes while casually discussing the merits of different types of alcohol that she’d encountered and how the Midgardian body metabolized alcohol, far longer than the 30 seconds that were required for a field sobriety test (at least, according to Doctor Banner). Gesturing vivaciously as she spoke, Theo’s eyes lit up with amusement as the others laughed along with her commentary.

As someone who was an expert at embellishing stories, Loki could tell when Theo added flourishes or exaggerated details. However, any talented storyteller understood that the best tales required a bit of panache, and Theo was no exception. While the others may not have noticed, to Loki, it was painfully obvious that Theo knew she was putting on a show.

“Okay, I think at this point there’s a pretty clear winner.” Rhodes snickered as Barnes laid down on a sofa, complaining about the way the world spun..

Theo happily took the $40 that Barnes previously threw down on the table, smirking as she dramatically tucked it into her wallet.

“Is anyone hungry? I could go for some pizza right about now.” Maximoff asked, looking around at the others.

“FRI, you heard the lady!” Stark lifted his head as he spoke up to no one in particular. “Well… I was actually thinking we could go out for pizza?” Maximoff suggested, shrugging her shoulders as she pointed behind herself towards the elevator.

Frankly, after such lively conversation and company, Loki was nowhere near ready to turn in for the night… Even if “going out” was not his preferred activity, perhaps it was worth accompanying the others on their venture.

“As much as I’d love to, I should probably make sure Bucky gets to bed in one piece.” Rogers replied, his point amplified by Barnes’ unintelligible grumbles.

“Yeah, it’s getting late –” Banner glanced at his watch before he stood up. “I’m ready to call it a night.”

“I’d join you.” Loki nodded at Maximoff, lightly shrugging his shoulders.

“Pizza sounds like fun.” Belova pushed herself up from her seat. “I’d go.”

“I’m down!” Shuri added, stretching as she rose to her feed.

Theo had yet to respond, eyes darting between the others as they responded. She didn’t seem tired, but experience indicated she would not opt-in unless clearly invited to attend

“The night is young – why not enjoy some excellent company for a little longer?” Turning to Theo, Loki offered a wry smile as he offered a hand to help her up. “Would you care to join? I suspect Maximoff would even let you select the pizza place…” He shot a knowing glance to Maximoff, who grinned and nodded.

“Sure, I suppose I can come along.” Theo perked up, mirroring Loki’s smile as she accepted the gesture, and allowed Loki to pull her to her feet. “I’m not sure what my options are for pizza around here, so I would defer to someone else to choose.”

Loki felt a bit of heat creep up on his cheeks - he ought to have remembered that Theo only recently became a resident of Midtown, so her knowledge of local eateries would be limited at best.

“Oh, there’s lots of great options nearby!” Parker exclaimed, bouncing up from his seat. “My favorite is–”

“She didn’t tell you to pick a place,” Shuri held a hand out to stop him as she smirked.

Parker replied with a pout, crossing his arms to make a point.

“If you tell me what place you want to go to, I’ll suggest it,” Theo winked at the spiderling.

“That’s not how this works!” Shuri protested, turning to Theo and covering her heart with mock offense.

“Okay, okay,” Theo held up her hands, laughing as she shook her head. “Wanda, pick a place since you wanted pizza and I have no idea what’s good around here.”

“I can do that - Vis, you coming?” Maximoff beamed at Vision, reaching for his hand.

“I shall accompany you.”

And off they went, in search of pizza.

Mic check - say hi to LoLo Goodbye to normal Welcome to your mad world Where you can forget About your boredom From this day forward Well I will give you love on every level

If anyone had asked Theo that morning how she expected her evening to go, drinking a supersoldier under the table and then going out for pizza at one in the morning with some of the Avengers would not have come to mind. Yet, in another edition of “my life is stranger than fiction,” that was exactly how Theo’s night played out.

The pizza place Wanda recommended was fairly close to Avengers tower - down an alleyway and through a side door, the restaurant sat tucked in the basement of a bar that Theo recognized because she played a couple shows there a while ago..

When they first walked in, the atmosphere practically screamed “hole in the wall.” The lights were kept low - low enough that it was easy to hide the dirt permanently coated on the floors. The smell of cheese and cheap beer lingered in the air. Even at the late hour, the place was packed. Perhaps the low light was to their advantage - no one seemed to notice the group of superheroes as they made their entrance, which was a relief. It took Theo back to the midnight hours in Durham. Her friends drunkenly crowded into booths for food after spending the night getting guys to buy out the bar for them. Theo had to play along in those days in order to hide her magic and its effects on her body - however, the lack of drunkenness meant she was still able to recall the exact way the place felt. And this… this felt all too familiar.

When they found an empty booth, they wasted no time claiming it as their own, even if it meant they had to squish together so everyone fit. With the way they packed themselves together, Theo couldn’t help but notice Loki’s body against hers, steady and firm without encroaching on her personal space. Loki may have been her first friend among the Avengers, but that didn’t mean they were ever quite so close. From Theo’s observations, Loki seemed like he avoided physical contact whenever possible, recoiling from Thor’s touch and carefully distancing himself when anyone else drew near. Really, Theo couldn’t remember ever having made any physical contact with him that wasn’t an accidental brush of the hands when they handed items to each other.

Despite feeling a bit thrown off by the touch, she wasn’t uncomfortable… If anything, it was actually kind of nice.

Not that she was going to say anything, because that would absolutely make it weird.

The effortless, lighthearted conversation that started on the rooftop continued the moment they sat down, even as everyone made quick work of the first round of drinks and the pizza, continuing to the extent that it wasn’t long before they ordered another round of drinks.

After the waitress delivered the second round of drinks, Wanda swallowed the bite of pizza she had been chewing, then spoke up.

“Thank you.” Wanda paused, considering her words. “For coming out tonight, that is. This has been fun.” She beamed at Theo. “I’m glad you have a sense of humor. The pigeon was well played.”

Theo blushed, biting back a smile. “Thanks for letting me in on the fun… though I have to say, I think Loki took the trophy home for best prank of the night.”

This time Loki didn’t try to deny it, grinning with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “It is important to remind my brother to stay humble… ‘Tis best to not allow his ego to overtake him. Do you agree?”

Theo let out a laugh, just barely tinged with melancholy as she thought about her sister. “That is part of a sibling’s job description, isn’t it?”

“Am I remembering correctly that you have a sister?” Vision asked Theo. “I recall mention of a sibling in your file, though you’ve not spoken much on the matter.”

Theo flinched, though the motion was barely perceptible. Loki’s eyes flickered over at her - he must have still noticed.

“I do… but she’s presumed dead, like my parents. We got separated when we ended up in the other realm” Theo shrugged as nonchalantly as she could manage, but the way the expressions in the group softened told her that they picked up on her discomfort around the topic. “My Mémère – err, my Grandma – raised me after that, and she raised my younger cousin, Max; he’s practically my younger brother.”

“There’s no reason to be nervous; family is a complicated subject for pretty much everyone on the team.” Wanda assured her.

Theo flashed a thin, yet grateful smile. “Yeah, I gathered that was practically a prerequisite for joining the Avengers.”

Loki snorted at her comment.

Wanda took the opportunity to change the topic, launching into the recap of the last band that she saw in this particular place. Apparently this was one of her favorite spots to go when she wanted to blend in and have some fun, especially since the poor lighting made it hard to be recognized.

As Wanda spoke, Theo noticed a young couple making out next to a jukebox and couldn’t help but smile at the sight – they may have assumed that the poor lighting obscured them from view, but their affection was sweet. Another wave of nostalgia from her days in Durham washed over Theo.

It occurred to her that everyone in the booth had lived vastly different lives from her own: a literal princess sat next to a kid who grew up in Queens; an orphan sat next to an android, who sat across from a frost giant/literal god, and on Theo’s opposite side was someone who trained to be a spy since before she could walk. However, Theo didn’t feel like a fish out of water. On the contrary, she actually felt like she belonged there, sitting in this cramped booth with six other people who knew what it was like to be different. And the best part was, she didn’t even have to hide what made her unique.

Her heart warmed at the thought.

By the time they finally left the pizza place, it was nearing three in the morning – the sun would rise in a few hours, however Theo was still wide awake. Wanda must have sensed that Theo was still ready for an adventure because she paused outside, looking in the direction opposite the tower.

“So where are we going now?” Theo inquired, looking between the others.

“Given you have a high alcohol tolerance, I think we should do some bar hopping,” Wanda offered, “This is New York, after all, the city that never sleeps. We might as well make it a proper night out!”

“The princess is out of her tower and there are some fine establishments nearby.” Loki added, a smug expression curling over his lips as he crossed his arms. Shuri cracked up, entirely aware that Loki was referring to Theo and not to her.

“I don’t know why you’re calling me a princess when we have a literal princess with us.” Theo offered a playful scoff in response to his joke, pointing at Shuri.

“The literal princess had a great time, but she’s gotta go back to Oakland tomorrow.” Shuri smirked and took a bow. “So I’ve gotta call it a night.”

“Yeah, I have a biology exam I need to study for tomorrow, so I should get some sleep.” Peter agreed.

“I head out for a mission bright and early,” Yelena sighed, “So I should probably go too.”

“They may be ditching us, but I’m down to go check out the bars,” Theo offered. “But I hope you don’t make the same mistake Bucky did - that might not go as well, since you aren’t a super soldier.”

Wanda laughed freely, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh no, I’m not about to try and match you drink for drink. Consider this our way of giving you a tour of the neighborhood!”

Vision, of course, was also fine with bar hopping; as long as Wanda was there it seemed like he would be happy.

After bidding goodnight to Shuri, Peter, and Yelena, the remaining four Avengers departed for the first bar. The cover of night provided protection from the stares that Theo expected to get walking down the street, though it was likely helped by the decrease in people out and about at the odd hour.

The quartet moved between local bars seamlessly. The sight of the Avengers didn’t draw the looks Theo would have expected most celebrities to draw - the other three, apparently, were regulars. They chatted with other customers and joked around with the bartenders, always making a point to casually slip an introduction to Theo in the mix without making it awkward. More often than not, the other customers would buy a round of drinks for the group as a way of welcoming Theo to the team, and before Theo could respond either Loki or Wanda would accept on her behalf.

If Theo didn’t know better, Loki and Wanda were on a mission to see just how much alcohol it took to get Theo drunk; frankly, as long as Theo wasn’t the one footing the bill, she didn’t mind the opportunity to loosen up a bit.

As the sun crept over the horizon, Theo felt the warm buzz that came with mild inebriation, having consumed enough alcohol to finally overcome her obnoxious tolerance.

Loki had a slight flush to his cheeks and a hint of glassiness in his eyes – there was no way that he could become intoxicated from what a human would drink alone, but between the Asgardian ale he consumed earlier and the other drinks, he seemed more relaxed than usual. Up until that point, Theo noticed that even when relaxed, Loki always had this air of being immensely composed, but that night it seemed like he let some of that properness fall away and let his guard drop ever-so-slightly.

In contrast, Wanda was comfortably drunk, allowing herself to hiccup and giggle freely while slurring some of her words. Not messy drunk by any means, thanks to Loki and Vision switching out some of her drinks for Shirley Temples when Wanda wasn’t looking (given how easily they managed the feat, Theo guessed it wasn’t the first time they had swapped her drinks so she didn’t get sick).

Vision was the only one who was sober, but that had to be a normal occurrence… Not shockingly, it was impossible for an artificial intelligence system to process alcohol. Theo found it odd to watch Vision eat and drink like a normal person, since he didn’t actually digest food and that he didn’t even need to eat to function. The sight was even more jarring when he camouflaged himself to appear like a person and not an android, which he did anytime he ventured into public.

Still, it wasn’t the weirdest thing Theo had ever seen…

With the sun peeking over the horizon, bringing with it the impending arrival of the morning, the group agreed it was time to return to the tower. While there was nothing on their agenda for the day that they had to prepare for, by that time everyone had been awake long enough that they were more than ready for bed. Vision and Wanda led the way, Vision wrapping his arm around Wanda to help her stay steady as she giggled and cooed endlessly at him, utterly lovestruck each time she looked at her partner.

Behind them, Loki and Theo strolled beside each other in comfortable silence. As they moved, Theo discreetly observed Loki. His normally upright, regal posture had softened. His eyes gazed out into the distance, though it didn’t seem like they had a fixed point of interest. He kept his hands in his pockets, and his expression reserved - just the slightest hint of knitted brows adorned his expression.

The man beside her was different from the Loki that Theo first met, or the Loki she saw earlier in the evening – the sharp, charismatic, and sarcastic prince was replaced by a much quieter, introspective man. Even with the faint warmth of the alcohol in Theo’s system, she could sense storms swirling in his mind that were locked away from public view. She couldn’t help but wonder how often he allowed that side of him to show.

When they arrived at the tower and made their way up to the residential floors, Theo couldn’t help but notice the way that Loki held the elevator door for her, and how he placed his hand on the small of her back as she passed by. It must have been the way that Loki was raised that made him do those things - as a prince, he must have been taught these types of gestures as a part of proper etiquette - but the feeling of his touch lingered long after his hand left her back.

No one else was around, which meant that it was either too early for the others to be up, or those who were already awake were off doing something else. Those moments of stillness were rare in the tower, and after a long but fun night out, Theo was grateful for the peace and quiet. Up ahead, Wanda giggled and squealed as Vision patiently coaxed her towards their suite. It didn’t take long for them to disappear behind the door, leaving Loki and Theo to themselves. The pair’s comfortable silence continued as they made their way down the hall, pausing outside the door to Theo’s suite.

“This was a lot of fun,” Theo commented to Loki, a shy smile on her lips as she took hold of the door handle, but refrained from opening the door.

“Indeed,” he nodded, sticking his hands back in his pockets and shifting his weight back onto his heels as he gave her a nervous smile. “I’m glad you’ve come out of your shell a bit more – it is nice to spend time with you.”

They both stood there, biting back smiles as they looked into each other’s eyes. In the peace of the tower and the sun rising, there was almost a special sort of peace that fell between them - a moment frozen in time.

Eventually though, that moment had to end.

Theo cleared her throat, a rising heat now present on her cheeks. “Well, I should probably…” Theo trailed off, gesturing that she was going to head inside. “Uh, good night Loki.”

“Right,” Loki blushed, looking away as he dipped his head. “Good night Theo.”

Theo found herself reflecting on the night as she got ready for bed. Yes, Loki, the little bastard was right - the Avengers, for all their initial assumptions and hesitations, genuinely did want to be her friend.

And despite every reason why Theo shouldn’t want to, at the end of the day… She wanted to be their friend too.

I let go (I let go) This is something spiritual (something spiritual) A vibrant soul (a vibrant soul) Give me life, give me love Got me hooked on a higher dose No sorrow (baby this is chemical) Hit just like an antidote (can’t come down, down) Adios (give me, yeah give me) Give me life, give me love Leveled up on a higher dose

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cosplayproblemsposts · 2 years

Text

Running and avoiding are much easier

Summary: It is hard to walk away from a certain set of beliefs and it's tough to be entitled to the game of immortality. The full moons of the werewolves and the infection of perversion, diseases of leaving are indeed hard but avoiding the entire thing is much easier.

Male character x male reader

Warning: Religious trauma and angst ending.

The concept of fear comes in many forms and the context of beliefs made it even more difficult and you hated it. The idea and the structure of solitude, it is nauseating to play along to the plague of being 'normal'.

"Oh don't be so dramatic Crowley, a date with a beautiful woman won't kill me" you exclaim to the displeased redhead. "Yes, it would this is the fourth brunette this week" you roll your eyes as Aziraphale finally sat down.

"Aziraphale back me up here, Crowley being his usual dramatic self" Aziraphale fiddles with his bowtie. You eye the blonde with disbelief "Oh you got to be joking, you can't be considering his little notion are you?". The blonde adverts his gaze to the demon "See angel here has a good head on his shoulders".

You weren't angry but disappointed in them, why believe in what your heart wants and not the logical and realistic alternative that stands as the right 'thing' and 'choice'. You huff and shimmy deeper into your leather chair "I-I'm deathly sorry Y/-" you cut him off with a loud scoff.

"Don't give me that!" Aziraphale looks at Y/N angry? frustrated? annoyed? expression. "Oh C'mon Y/N don't act like that, me and Aziraphale are just worried that's all" you wanted the easier way out of this conversation so you took it.

"We believe it would be better to find a healthier and easier way to cope with this internal fear," Aziraphale says after he collects himself. Crowley was about to add something else but you were up and making your way to the bookstore's entrance "I wish you two a lovely evening and cheers". "Oh do wait Y/N w-we just want t-" Aziraphales words were long forgotten and Crowley's chase came to an end.

2,100 BC the beginning of werewolves in ancient Greece and Rome is the year you met the two entities.

You were a wood carver and sculpturer who sold to the middle class and high class of Greece. Aziraphale eyes sparkle at the beauty of the smooth workings of art "tempt to purchase one or many".

A smooth greek accent of a middle age man steals the angel's attention "I admire your work, you are the one who molds this beautiful masterpiece?". You grin and nod with pride "yes I'm the one who brought my vision of love to life" Aziraphale lips part in a pure gold manner "L-love?". You hum "Yes the beauty of love" your eyes were intimidating but yet bold in color and illusion.

"How magical" Aziraphale swoons his gestures in an adorable fashion that made you chuckle. "I wish you could have seen the process, now that is the true work of love" Aziraphale could listen to you talk for an eternity if you allowed him to. "Ah yes the development and hard work you..." Aziraphale finally realized he hadn't even asked your name. "Y/N L/N" the angel smiles "Aziraphale" you whisper the blonde's name under your breath with no intention of forgetting.

"Aziraphale where are you?" the newfound voice made you meet this glasses-wearing male. "Oh there you are" this redhead approaches and just by looking at him, he is the total opposite. Aziraphale was white as snow and pure gold for him dark and rose gold "Oh I was observing this man's artwork".

"Oh yeah lovely now C'mon we are gonna be late" you frown all of a sudden "Late? late for what?". Crowley huffs as Aziraphale decided to answer your question "Poetry, a man named Andie reads his written work". You nod, you've heard of him and his crazy beliefs of wolf-like creatures "enjoy your poetry hour" Crowley nods "Yes we will, and good day to you". They were gone, you never felt so intrigued for quite some time.

A tall trench coat figure stalks down the busy streets "I'm not wrong to know what's right and what's wrong" you mutter out. "I know what I am and...their" slowing down in pace you realize where your steps have taken you.

A church is a building that is constructed out of break and wood. Installation to keep many warm and comfortable from the cold of the ungodly temptation "What have I become?" you wanted to throw your words away. You weren't yourself and you know that you'd be one of the happiest men alive if you weren't so afraid.

You made your way across the street to the standing church "light, white and firm" rambling in a whisper. Delicate and happy "Just set your mind and heart to the task before you and you would be free".

You took a seat in one of the many rows of pew chairs "open your heart and allow him in" with no warmth and no comfort. You felt absent from the two things instead you felt disappointment and doubt "why do I sit here in doubt".

Why is it hard to leave but easier to avoid the thought of leaving "are you okay?" a voice made you lightly jump. The priest's wife stares at him with curiosity "I'm fine just questioning a few things" she hums. "Why?" if you could you'd laugh for doesn't she see why "I believed I knew what it was to feel and understand love but it seems I don't".

She hums "Love can come in many shapes and sizes" Let's be honest you thought she'd just say something like the holy Christ. The sacrifice of the man himself and the power of gods love can save everyone and everything "I-I...thank you". This strange woman smiles and bids you farewell and leaves you there is a much lighter heart.

It had been months since you have spoken to the duo and the woman you decided to keep as a friend. The full moon couldn't be any rougher and dull "Y/N you need to see a doctor about your back" Anna recommends.

You shook your head "no, the transformations always leave me like this for a few days" Anna could only scowl. "You have a funny way of reassuring your friends" Anna watches your frown "I-I...oh be quiet". Anna laughs at your little embarrassed expression "I'm just teasing" Anna goes back to the menu. "What are you gonna order?" Anna asks which made you slouch "Steak".

"You ordered steak last time and time before that and the time previously" Anna points her index finger at you. "Okay!" you threw your hands up in defeat "the crab special looks promising" Anna wiggled her eyes brows at you.

"What?" Anna eyes the background scenery behind you "What are you looking at?". She quickly stubs your shoed foot under the table "Don't look silly" you groan "What is it then?". "You know I care about you right?" you nod as Anna sets one of her hands on top of your right one. "You can avoid a lot of things and" Anna has a problem with stretching out so much context, that's another way to put it I guess...She doesn't get to the point fast enough.

Annas' eyes advert upwards as if her eyes met another person's eyes "Gentlemen" she clears her throat and gives you an apologetic gaze before taking her to leave. You didn't look up or over your shoulder for the thought that she set you up made your stomach and heart twitch.

"Y/N, please hear us out" Arizaphale speaks first as Crowley goes off to fetch the angel a seat. "You have been quiet for seven months and you have been unreachable" Y/N wanted the angel to stop talking and leave him alone. "Seven months and five days" you mutter loud enough for the blonde to hear.

"Please, Crowley and I want the best for you, and if you deem it appropriate to end our friendship then... " Aziraphale smile falls for you wouldn't even spare him a glance. "Crowley, he hasn't budged" the demon makes a face "he can't be quiet forever Aziraphale". "Go away" the two stare at you "what?" Crowley says "I'm done, our friendship has grown cold and I'd like you two to acknowledge my choice".

"Of course, you two don't have to respect it but you can and you will accept it so... goodbye" with that your up and gone.

The two watch you leave the restaurant and no you weren't in a hurry and no you don't regret your decision for now. Yes, you'd regret it later on but you have so many years to get over it and they do too.

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storiesofsvu · 2 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/storiesofsvu/756561724151414784/ask-game-for-fanfic-writers

How about every integer of 10? 🙏🫡

10,20,30,40,50,60,70,80,90,100

(or less if that's too much)

ooo bless!

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles and how easy or hard is that for you?

fuck. i HATE titles. 99% of the time it's the very last thing I do and half the time i forget about it until i open tumblr to make the post. For one shots i generally read through it again and pick a phrase or repeating word and use that. For series: i'll usually pop onto discord with a brief summary and ask if ppl have ideas, otherwise i have a note in my phone of potential titles that are generally song titles or lyrics. i like my series titles to actually mean something and tie into the story whereas i dont give a fuck about the one shots LOL

20. what is your favourite trope to write?

forbidden love? we're gonna pretend that's a thing lol. like, stories have to have conflict and what's better than two people who wanna fuck/date/whatever and either can't or shouldn't, or like, their bosses would frown upon it, right? like, any and all degree of it, not particularly totally forbidden.

30. most inspirational quote you've ever read or heard that's still important to you.

christ. i cannot think of anything rn. My mind went straight to disney because there are so many things that light up my passion/motivation. the last time we were there we saw the "new" (lol) fireworks show and it had this little speech that was all "no go, let your dreams guide you, reach out and find your happily ever after" and it was kinda the resurge i needed at the time to be all "oh fuck, that's right, i just need to focus" as the old fireworks show had a bit that i like, wished on every fucking night and always made me cry about cause of how i related to it. wow i'm SO cool HA.

in high school (performing arts) certain people got to sign the theatre crossover wall at graduation and i got to and i singed it with a Fosse quote but i cannot remember it anymore for the life of me loll

40. best piece of feedback you've ever gotten?

bruh ive got no clue. i dont get/ask for feedback basically ever. esp recently people have been more just "omg so good" or "next part??" uhh... yeah, i dont think anyone ever has minus like a comment here and there with a friend when spitballing and i have a goldfish brain so i cannot remember.

50. do you plan or do you write whatever comes to your mind?

bit of both! for one shots it's usually just the prompt i was given/found and MAYBE a bit of a blurb scenario.

series: i will not start until i have a much more detailed outline and a rough idea of how it's going to end. nothing is specifically labelled and as i work on the story the outline gets longer, more fleshed out, sometimes there's full conversations or smut pieces in the outline and eventually ch's get labelled and sometimes it's like "ch 4, they go to this hotel and fuck" lol

60. where is the most dangerous place that you're written fic?

work. was stuck in the bar (that guests dont have access to) during service time with nothing else to do. my manager literally came in and teased me about not working and then later asked what i was working on and i said "fanfic, but that's all i'm telling you cause a lot o its real gay and real dirty" LOL

70. are you ever critical of your own writing? how much do you find yourself editing (either during or after the fact?)

i'm SO critical, but it's like, when i'm rereading it months down the road and it's been posted and too late to edit LOL. and it's mainly me just looking at old works that are SO trope filled and slightly cringe and include lot of the stuff that i no longer write.

I don't edit too much at all lol. I'll catch most typos or grammar while going/on a brief read through but it's VERY rare i'll actually go back to edit a full passage the next day or anything. Hence my very detailed outlines! i will edit from there to the fic cause i'll add to the outlines whenever something sparks in my brain and i know its good lol.

80. do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing?

uhh... no? LOL. sometimes i do, and sometimes they just end up there completely by accident.

90. do you notice your own voice in your writing style?

absolutely. why do you think there's so much profanity? LOL. but also as someone who writes mainly reader insert, there is a little bit of me in every yn i write

thanks for asking!! <3 (and that's never too much lol)

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jrob64 · 2 years

Text

One Thrill Ride Leads to Another - Epilogue (Home for Christmas) NOW a complete story!

This roller coaster of a story is coming to an end and I hope you enjoy one last exciting ride before it does. Massive thanks to @hookedmom and @kmomof4 for all their help, and once again, happy birthday to @snowbellewells, for whom this story was written. What I thought would be a one-shot ended up being 6 chapters, so now your birthday is covered for the next 6 years!

Story Summary: While working at Universal’s Islands of Adventure, Killian Jones meets Emma Swan, slips his name and number into her phone, and later sends her a text asking her out. His snap decision could lead to her blocking his number, or to an adventure much more thrilling than a ride on a roller coaster.

Rating: M (for smut in chapters 4 & 5)

Words (Epilogue): 2324

Total words: 42,150

Complete story on Tumblr: Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5

Also on ffn and Ao3

And now, please remain seated and wait until the coaster comes to a complete stop before unbuckling your safety belt! Enjoy the rest of the ride!

*********

“Maybe we should’ve gotten a smaller tree,” Emma puffed, pausing to catch her breath on the third landing of her apartment building.

“There’s no going back now,” Killian reminded her. “It’s the first live tree for both of us and we searched for it for hours. This one is perfect.”

“You’re right. Okay, one more flight of stairs. We can do this!” She hoisted her end of the tree off the floor and trudged up the steps.

After they made it to her apartment, she unlocked the door and the two of them wrestled the tree and themselves through. Killian kicked the door closed behind them, then they both collapsed onto the sofa.

“I love that you found a place for us to cut down our own tree,” Emma said, laying her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“And I love you,” he replied, turning his head to press a kiss to her forehead, while he took her hand and wove their fingers together.

“Mmm, I love you, too.”

Nearly five months after their chance meeting in Florida, the couple was getting ready to celebrate their first Christmas together, and Killian was determined to make it the best one of Emma’s life. After hearing her stories of past holidays in foster care which left lasting emotional scars, he wanted to fill this Christmas with so much love and joy, she could finally leave those sad memories behind.

They rested for a few more minutes before getting the tree set up, trimming some branches, and filling the tree stand with water. Emma brought out the shopping bags full of lights and garland they purchased the previous weekend. They unpacked them and proceeded to work together to string them on the tree, while listening to a Christmas playlist Killian had on his phone.

“Why don’t we make hot cocoa and eat some cookies before we start putting the ornaments on, Love?” They had baked gingerbread cookies earlier in the day and the sweet smell of them still permeated the apartment.

“Sure. Do you want me to text Ruby and ask her and Graham to come over?”

The two couples were very considerate of each other’s privacy and usually took turns staying at either one of the apartments, but they also liked to spend some evenings together. Sometimes Liam and Belle or David and Mary Margaret joined them, but with M’s being in her last trimester of pregnancy, the times with that couple were becoming more limited.

“Uh, would you mind if…if we didn’t invite them?” Killian asked.

Emma studied him and noticed he wasn’t quite meeting her eyes. “Is something wrong?” she asked, reaching over to take his hand.

“No,” he hurried to assure her. “I just…sort of wanted it…to be only the two of us tonight. Graham and Ruby already put the little artificial tree up at the other place and, well, I thought maybe…”

“This one can be ours to decorate,” she finished his thought. “I like that idea. Maybe after we’re finished, we can watch a Christmas movie.”

He smiled warmly. “Sounds wonderful. Let’s get the hot chocolate made, shall we? I’m eager to try those cookies, since you wouldn’t let me sample any while we were making them,” he affectionately groused.

“But that would have spoiled the effect of eating them while we decorate the tree,” she pouted.

He kissed her on the tip of the nose. “You’re too damn cute, Swan. You know I can never say no to you.”

“Yes, I do,” she said smugly.

Emma insisted they make the beverage the old-fashioned way. Killian heated milk in a pan on the stove, while she mixed cocoa, sugar and salt together in a bowl, then slowly added it to the milk while he whisked the mixture until it was smooth. When it was heated through, he poured it into matching Santa mugs, topped them with whipped cream and added a dash of cinnamon to each one. She placed several cookies on a snowflake-shaped plate and they carried everything into the living room.

“I know I’m probably going overboard with all the Christmas stuff, but…” Emma started, once they were settled.

“Nonsense, Sweetheart,” he shushed her. “Now is the perfect time to start our own traditions.”

As they sipped their hot cocoa and nibbled the gingerbread, Emma let her mind wander to the previous December. Mary Margaret was still living in the apartment and insisted they decorate, but memories of past Christmases kept Emma from truly enjoying the spirit of the season.

She couldn’t believe her life could be so different in a year’s time. One fateful day in July changed everything, and she couldn’t help but wonder what their lives would be like by this time next year.

“Penny for your thoughts, Love,” Killian said softly, noticing her faraway look.

She gave her head a little shake. “I was just thinking about how different this Christmas is going to be from every other one.”

“Different in a good way, I hope.”

Leaning in to kiss him, she whispered against his lips, “In the best way. I’ll be spending it with the love of my life.”

He set his mug on the end table and took hers to do the same, then pulled her into his lap. “How did I ever get so lucky?” he asked, nuzzling into her neck.

“It was because of your sunglasses,” she said, tilting her head to encourage his caresses.

Killian pulled back with a bewildered look on his face. “My sunglasses?”

She giggled. “Yeah. When you saw I still had my phone that day at the Velocicoaster, you looked at me over the top of your sunglasses and I was a goner. It was incredibly sexy.”

“You never told me that.”

Feathering her fingers through the hair above his temples, she said, “It’s quite possible I began to fall in love with you at that very moment.”

“And yet you thought I could be a serial killer?” he asked with a smirk.

“I was just being cautious. Do you blame me?”

He tugged her closer and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Not at all. Some idiot takes your phone and puts his number in, then sneaks a look at your information? I’m lucky you didn’t try to have me fired…or arrested.”

“Well, giving you a chance turned out pretty good for me.”

He brushed her hair away from her throat so he could trail kisses along it. “Even better for me.”

As he continued to leave a path of pleasurable heat with his lips, she murmured, “Don’t you want to decorate the tree?”

“Aye, Love. I guess I can wait until later to unwrap my gift,” he sighed theatrically.

She rolled her eyes. “You are so corny.”

“I’m sorry - did you say ‘corny’ or ‘horny’, because I’m definitely the latter.”

“Omigod,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because you love me and can’t live without me,” he grinned.

She dropped her hands and looked at him, her playful expression replaced by a serious one. “You know that’s true, don’t you? I can’t imagine my life without you.”

He framed her face with his hands. “Then don’t, because I’m not going anywhere, Emma. You’re it for me.”

Emma felt tears prick her eyes at his declaration. The months they had been together were by far the best of her entire life, and hearing that she could look forward to a lifetime more with him made her a bit emotional.

Killian saw the lights from the tree reflected in her glittering tears and smiled softly. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

“And you’re too good to be true,” she replied in a slightly choked voice.

Leaning in, he captured her lips for a sweet, lingering kiss. “You taste like chocolate and gingerbread,” he said, resting his forehead against hers and licking his lips.

“So do you,” she laughed. “Speaking of which, our hot chocolate is getting cold.”

He sat back, chuckling. “Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” He picked up both mugs and handed one to her. “I can’t remember whose is whose.”

“We just swapped spit, so I don’t think it really matters,” she smirked before taking a sip.

“Sometimes you sound a lot like Ruby, you know that?”

“God forbid,” she muttered.

While finishing their cookies and hot cocoa, they discussed movie choices, finally settling on The Muppet Christmas Carol. Emma took care of washing the mugs and cookie plate, while Killian carried the plastic tub of ornaments out of her bedroom.

She joined him in the living room and lifted a box of red satin Christmas balls out of the tub. “I know we bought some ornaments last weekend, but the tree is still gonna look pretty bare,”

“We’ll keep adding more each year,” he assured her, attaching a hook to one of the baubles and completely missing the fond look she sent his way because of the nonchalant way he spoke of their future.

She watched him place the ornament on the tree, humming “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” as he did. Home. That was the main reason this holiday season was going to be different this year. Her heart had found a home with him.

They hung all the satin ornaments on the tree and Killian placed the angel at the top, before unboxing the ones she bought in the Disney Christmas store. “I put these away as soon as I got home from vacation,” she said, smiling down at the Beauty and the Beast ornament in her hand. “Do you remember helping me pick them out?”

“Aye, it was a fun day. I recall wondering if I would be fortunate enough to be in contact with you by Christmas.”

She stepped into his arms and looped hers around his neck, stretching up on her toes to share a kiss with him. “And now look at us,” she said quietly, “not only in contact with each other, but in a committed relationship.” After briefly pressing her lips to his again, she turned to hang the ornament on a branch at the front of the tree,

Killian put a hook on the little figures of Mickey and Minnie Mouse and handed it to her. “It’s better than I even imagined. I had no idea you lived in Boston at that time. It all worked out perfectly.”

“Yeah, it did.” She stepped back and looked at the tree. “I’m gonna put the Rapunzel and Flynn Ryder one right here,” she said, pointing to an empty branch near the top.

He knelt in front of the plastic tub and found the one she wanted. “Do you have a spot picked out for the Walt Disney and Mickey Mouse statue, Love?”

“There’s a bare spot down there.” After hanging both of the ornaments he gave her, she appraised the tree with her hands on her hips. “I think it looks good, don’t you?”

He continued to kneel on the floor, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I think it needs something there,” he said, gesturing toward the center of the tree.

She threw up her hands. “Well, we’re all out of ornaments, so what do you suggest?”

“How about this one?” he asked, holding up a round ceramic box with a sun painted on top.

Emma turned to see what he meant and gasped. “The Tangled music box! You went back and bought it?”

“I saw how much you wanted it that day and I knew you had to have it.”

“But it was so expensive, Killian! You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to.” He pushed it toward her and she carefully took it, immediately winding the little key on the bottom. When she opened the lid to hear it play “I See the Light'', she nearly dropped it in shock. Nestled inside was a beautiful, sparkling ring. Her eyes shot up to see Killian on one knee, a nervous but hopeful look on his face.

“Emma, ever since I laid eyes on you, you’ve taken my breath away and made my heart beat faster than any roller coaster ever could. My life with you has been a wild and thrilling ride so far, and I never want it to end. Will you make sure it never does and marry me?”

With shaking fingers, she reached into the music box and removed the ring from inside. Her gaze shifted from the gorgeous pear-shaped diamond, atop a twisted gold and diamond encrusted band, to her boyfriend, who was anxiously awaiting her response. Words escaped her, as tears filled her eyes and she slowly nodded, still stunned by his proposal.

“Does that…are you saying…yes?” he managed to ask, his throat constricting with emotion.

“Y-yes!” she cried, dropping to her knees and flinging her arms around his neck.

He held her tightly as she sobbed into his shoulder, feeling his own happiness bubbling up inside his chest. When she finally took a deep, shuddering breath, he loosened his grip around her and pulled back, looking into her tear-stained face. “Are you alright, Love?” he asked, tenderly brushing aside strands of her hair.

“Yeah,” she hiccuped, “I just…I…I love you so much and I’m so happy!”

His dimple flashed as he beamed. “I love you, too, Sweetheart.”

She dropped her arms and opened her right hand, allowing Killian to take the ring she’d been clasping. He lifted her left hand, looked up at her from under his eyelashes and, at her encouraging smile, slid it onto her finger, kissing the knuckle above it once it was in place.

The kiss they shared afterwards conveyed all the hope they had for their future - an exciting ride that would most assuredly include highs, lows, curves, twists and loops, promising them the greatest adventure of their lives.

*********

Emma’s engagement ring - from the Enchanted Disney Fine Jewelry Collection inspired by Rapunzel. Thanks to @kmomof4 for finding it! This picture also includes the diamond wedding band.

Thank you so much for coming along for the ride!

Tagging: @xsajx @hookedmom @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @lyssapup27 @swanlovato @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @lkles08 @wyntereyez @bubblegum1425 @xhookswenchx @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @dreamingdreamsalways @oncechicagolove @andiirivera @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @vampcoffeegyrl23 @enchanted-swans @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @lavenderbudd @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @xouatxcs @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084 @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @winterbythesea @artistic-writer @cocohook38 @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @kingofmyheart14 @badwolfreturns @itsfridaysomewhere@fallingforthecaptain @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @omgmarvelousmorgan @justanother-unluckysoul @mrs-potato-but-likes-tomato @anothersworld @deckerstarblanche @purplehawkcaptain @superchocovian @k-leemac @citygirlscowboy @laughterandbooks @sotangledupinit @apiratewhopines @huntressandlioness1 @cosette141 @gingerpolyglot @motherkatereloyshipper @cs-rylie

#csff #one thrill ride leads to another #epilogue #complete story #jrob64 #cs fanfiction #CS modern AU #cs fluff and smut #captain swan fan fiction #ouat captain swan fanfic #ouat captain swan fic #emma and ruby on vacation #amusement park workers #a birthday story for Marta

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xknivesandpensx · 10 months

Text

Like Pieces of a Puzzle

Chapter 14

Summary: What if Harry wasn't the only extra student called upon to participate in the Triwizard Tournament? Far from the most popular candidate, Draco not only has to take on the trials but also deal with his unexpected feelings for Hermione. Will he be able to face the challenges as well as follow his heart? Chapter length will vary. I'll be referencing both the books and movie versions. Some things from what I've previously written will be mentioned, all of which you can find here. And for those who asked to be tagged: @dayane245love

Draco hardly heard a word Ludo Bagman said, not truly able to get himself to care. The classroom was filled with not only the champions but their respective headmasters and a woman he never met before, who for the moment hovered in the background. Unfortunately, his mind kept drifting back to Potions, to Hermione.

What if Pansy or another Slytherin caught him grab Hermione’s hand? Sure, he automatically reached out in regards to the venom she almost touched, but any guesses could turn into wild accusations. Which he really didn’t need. He supposed acting like nothing happened would be the best course of action to take. And he knew almost confessing his feelings held the potential to haunt him for days, if not longer.

When Draco started paying attention again, Bagman mentioned taking a few photos, an aspect he didn’t mind, (even if he was asked to remove his POTTER STINKS badge). Fleur sat on a chair in the middle, situating herself comfortably. Her golden blonde hair fell down the length of her back, tied into a neat ponytail. Both Cedric and Viktor were told to stand directly behind, their height aiding them, while both Harry and Draco took either end.

The camera went off a total of three times before Rita introduced herself. “Of course, I’m sure you all know I work for the Daily Prophet. But what the people are interested in is the five of you. What makes this group set apart from the rest, the reasons behind your bold choices to enter such a dangerous competition.”

Draco tried not to roll his eyes at her fairly intuitive speech. Her flashy appearance spoke volumes, hair set in elaborate curls, a pair of jeweled glasses studded in rhinestones, crimson painted nails, red lips, and a flashy shade of green making up her outfit.

She circled the group as she went on. “I say we get these interviews started. Who’s up for sharing?” No one made a sound in response, leading Rita to make the choice herself. “Of course, we should start with the youngest.”

Now Draco really did roll his eyes as she pulled Harry from the room. Rita made it very obvious who she wanted to talk to first.

He spent a good ten minutes aimlessly lost in thought, mostly thinking he had much better things to be doing, before he bothered to speak to anyone. “I bet she’s getting the full backstory of the famous Boy Who Lived.” Draco directed his nonchalant set of words at Viktor, for Fleur and Cedric started a conversation of their own.

“From what I can tell Harry is a decent person.” At least from what he gathered during their minor interactions. “I have to say, you said some unfavorable things the night we were chosen. Unlike many at Durmstrang, I disagree.”

Draco almost forgot he called Hermione a Mudblood in front of them and insulted Ron too. Then proceeded to get into a fight – not the greatest way to show the solidarity Dumbledore expected of them, though he hardly took his opinions into consideration.

“Given Karkaroff doesn’t allow Muggle-born students, I’m surprised you think otherwise.” It caught him off-guard. Maybe in a way, it confused him more than anything else.

“His beliefs don’t reflect my own,” Viktor simply answered, maintaining his usual stoic state. “I’ve heard one of Hogwarts best students is in your year and she is Muggle-born.”

Obviously, he meant Hermione. Just alluding to her name caused him to feel a slight tautness along his muscles. Suddenly, Draco wished he hadn’t said anything at all. It brought her back to the forefront of his mind. Her picture a clear image in his head.

Lucius announced very early on about what separated them from other wizards. Even when the Chamber of Secrets opened and students started getting petrified, he favored the results. Draco, now upon reflection, wondered how he wished the same fate upon Hermione.

“Ah yes, Granger. She’s hardly worth mentioning. More of a stuck-up, know-it-all than anything else really,” he replied, using his irritation in the form of a slight.

“I do not think it wise to insult one of Harry’s friends.” Viktor tried not to judge the younger competitors too harshly. Draco seemed very much like Igor, their similarities apparent. “It does nothing but makes you out to be the sort who cares little for the opinions of others. Especially when they don’t meet your own.”

“He pretty much hit the mark, hasn’t he?” Harry, thanks to Dumbledore’s interruption, managed to get away from Rita and the small broom cupboard she squeezed them into. “She asked for you next. I’m sure you’ll have loads to tell her.”

Draco sneered yet otherwise said nothing in reply. He had quite enough of him for one day and thought sharing the extra placement in the tournament was a bit unfair. Any attention he gained became shadowed by Harry.

He walked to the other side of the room and took the offered chair.

“Unfortunately, Dumbledore has restricted us to the classroom. A Quick-Quotes Quill is all right? Excellent.” Rita didn’t even pause for a response, ready to jump right in. “Now tell me, how does it feel to be competing against the famous Harry Potter? Nervous?

Draco bit back the urge to complain. He saw his chance to appear more put together, to make a good impression and maybe even get a few jabs at Harry. A smugness filled his expression. “Hardly. He can barely handle the most basic spells. He prefers to boast more than anything else.”

“Am I sensing a bit of a rivalry between you two?” Rita asked, taking the opportunity to gain more information. “What was he like when you met him? Still traumatized by the death of his parents?”

He paused for a moment, watching the quill scribble away. “Significantly rude, actually. Practically snubbed my offer of friendship. A missed opportunity on his part. But isn’t this interview supposed to be about me? Not that I couldn’t offer many details involving Potter’s true personality and how he isn’t as everyone perceives him.”

“Quite right. We’ll circle back.” She nodded to her quill, which flipped to a new page. “Now your family is rather tradition based, are they not? Very proud people. Is it possible their high expectations encouraged you to enter?”

“I didn’t put my name in,” Draco automatically replied. “Whoever did has yet to be found. I consider it about time someone recognized my abilities. I may fare better than those older than me considering my lineage.”

“Very sure of yourself, I see.” Rita took a second to look him over. “Speaking of, the Malfoy’s are closely linked to You-Know-Who, not only through your father, but through relatives as well. Just between us, and my many readers, do you support their cause?”

His brows furrowed at the question. It thew him off the same as when Moody brought Voldemort into their conversation. He cleared his throat, however, trying to hide his annoyance. If she aimed to make him look bad, he wouldn’t be surprised. Narcissa never said anything good in relation to her articles, though Lucius favored any snippets that turned a negative light on Dumbledore.

“He was acquitted of any crime.” Draco drew his gaze towards the group of professors, none were paying him any mind, too absorbed in rehashing the same complaints. “As a reporter, you should know all about it.”

He dodged answering the actual question she placed. Draco spent his whole childhood under a general feeling of regret that Voldemort never succeeded in his goals. He was prudently reminded not to express such sentiments outside of close friends and family. He almost pictured the Dark Lord as a story, despite his obvious realness. After all, he vanished soon after his first birthday. In a way, Draco sustained his ideals because he knew little else, but the support became expected and therefore not once did he consider believing differently.

“And how does it feel to be the son of a Death Eater? Or former Death Eater, as they say. Such an immense weight for someone so young to bear,” Rita added, putting on an air of curiosity.

“How does this hold any importance?” Draco asked. He knew there were wizards out their who’d love to shine a light on his families ties with Voldemort yet he didn’t expect her to go anywhere near the subject.

His cagey retort caused a hum of interest to follow, and Rita eagerly leaned a little closer so she could properly hear whatever else he may give away. “Has it caused a lot of friction between Harry and yourself given a relative of yours aided in the murder of his parents?”

Obviously, she meant Sirius Black. But to bring up Lily and James? Well, he supposed he hadn’t considered it. Her sheer lack of tact and intent to back him into a corner gave Draco the impression he better end things now before he said anything else Rita could use against the Malfoy reputation.

“I think I’m finished here. Wait until my father hears how you conduct interviews.” He rose from the seat, unable to move more than a step after her hand shot out and grabbed hold of his left arm. The chair skid on the wooden floor from his sudden halt.

Rita looked up at him, presenting a (fake) smile full of earnest concern. “So defensive. You wouldn’t happen to be hiding something?”

Draco yanked free, sending a glower in her direction. “You won’t find the Dark Mark if that’s what you’re hoping for.” Realizing he might’ve spoken too loudly, a silent, undetectable flare of panic stretched between his lungs. Only once he reassured himself no one’s attention veered his way did Draco notice the quill continuing to scribble away. He swiped the notepad from midair, a line of ink pulled down to the bottom of the sheet. “What’s this rubbish? I’m certainly not tormented by my family’s dark past, nor am I scared of it. I think you ought to try real journalism or at least know who you’re trying to make a mockery of.”

“Oh Draco, you are so similar to Harry.” She stood, plucking her notebook from his loose hold. “Both so determined. In fact, you share the same reckless attitude and desperate need for attention. It’s written all over that young, impressionable face of yours.”

“Forgive the interruption,” Dumbledore announced, having caught a few unfavorable words (as he tended to keep a preceptive ear). “If you could restrain from interrogating the students it’d be much appreciated. Unless, of course, you’d prefer to have me or another headmaster present for the duration of your discussions.”

Rita plastered another false grin. “Certainly, there’s no need. In fact, I think I’ve got everything I require. I’m ready for the next competitor. Cedric, if you may.”

Draco sauntered off as she ushered the last Hogwarts champion towards her.

“I see your interview went as spectacular as my own,” Harry offered, rather amused at the other’s sullen demeanor. If he really heard where the conversation drifted concerning his parents, his mood would’ve been far less pleased.

“Shove off, Scarhead.” Draco banged roughly into his shoulder as he passed, determined to take a note from Viktor and stay stashed away in the corner. If he mentioned the absurdity of Rita’s questions to his father then he’d remedy the problem for sure.

For the moment, however, he’d have to wait out the other’s conversations and probably take more pictures. All of which would probably drag into dinner.

Hermione assumed it to be the reason since neither competitor showed up. She sat at the end of the table, secluded enough to talk to Ginny, filling her in on all the details concerning what happened in class. Her last sentence ended in rather annoyed huff. “I just don’t know what to make of it. He's acting very strange lately.”

“Well, this is Malfoy we’re talking about.” Ginny paused, tilting her head, and reconsidered her statement. “I was skeptical at first, but what if he actually does like you? That would explain things, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t think it’s possible.” Hermione started pushing her food around the plate. She wanted to consider it an option more than anything. “My parents are Muggles. He’s never seen me as an equal before and I doubt he’ll change his opinion. I feel positively dimwitted considering the option to be true. Besides, I think I ought to spend my time focusing on helping Harry in the tournament and on S.P.E.W instead.”

She wondered who’d try to aid Draco in the challenges. Undoubtedly, even Cedric’s close friends were willing to spend their days by his side if needed. Crabbe and Goyle always remained near Malfoy, nonetheless neither happened to be very bright.

“How is Harry handling it?” Ginny hadn’t said much to him since the Goblet chose him. She hung back, not willing to get engulfed in the sea of people usually crowding him.

“If he and Ron made up, probably much better.” She sighed, sparing a moment to glance in his direction. Fred and George sat next to their younger brother, sharing a laugh.

“He can be very stubborn. I tried talking to him myself. He refused to listen to me. Kept going on regarding picking sides or whatever.” Ginny shrugged before she took a sip of her pumpkin juice. “So, you’re going to do what about Malfoy exactly?”

Hermione provided herself a moment to stall by shoving a forkful of food in her mouth. The answer should be nothing because in reality her options were extremely limited. Yet one particular sentenced kept popping in her head. One he didn’t finish. She conceded to the notion of him grabbing her hand as an unintentional reflex, nothing else made sense.

“Think on it some other day?” Her qualms surfaced, breaking across her face. “Oh, I don’t know. Why can’t I fancy a boy who isn’t as complicated as Draco Malfoy? I must be mental.” She dropped her head onto her arms.

“I feel that way about Harry too,” Ginny admitted, able to empathize. “He’ll never look at me the way he does Cho. I still have a bit of a hard time talking to him, which isn’t helpful.”

Hermione placed her chin on her arms, thinking on it. “Maybe you should take your own advice and go out with other people. Try relaxing around him. I think Harry might take a bit more notice to you if you’re a little more yourself.”

“I suppose you’re right. I’ll give it a go if I happen to catch anyone’s attention.” Soon afterwards they went back to eating and let their discussion drift to casual chatter, until dinner ended anyway. “Want to walk back to the common room together?”

“Tomorrow? I need to talk to Professor Moody.” Hermione noticed his seat at the head table remained vacant, so she assumed his classroom was the best place to check.

His absence presented an open opportunity to ask about the tournament. While Hermione didn’t relish the idea of doubting Moody’s innocence, the newest staff member became a good starting point on who placed Harry and Draco’s name in the cup.

The two girls went their separate ways as Hermione considered the most respectable way to start her line of questioning. And hopefully prevent him from forming any accusatory conclusions, not that she’d blame him. Dumbledore trusted him and that should chase away any reservations.

#dramione #hermione granger #draco x hermione #harry potter #the goblet of fire #i meant to get this out last week #but there was thanksgiving #and some other things that got in the way #but here we are #nice comments are always appreciated #sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes

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marshmallowsqoosh · 2 years

Text

[Ghost(Band) | Death Do Us Part]

Fandom: Ghost (Band) Title (also AO3 link): Death Do Us Part Rating: General-Teen CW: Canon Character Death, non-canon Character Death Lesser Warnings: Reference to viscera, headcanon galore, headcanon names for the Papas [*s h r u g s*], Omega3 ship if you squint??? I’ll write explicitly stated Omega3 one day.

Summary: Every Ghoul has some capacity to heal. Water Ghouls may be the most efficient, but all of them are capable in some capacity. Some are more destructive and some... simply give more. A/N: There was a totally logical reason for me to have written this but I don’t remember what it is anymore lmao. Alternate version of the brothers’ deaths, in which the Ghoulies didn’t die with the Papas.

... On a lesser(?) note, I choose to believe that Nihil didn’t actually hate his sons enough to call them one/two/three and use headcanon names for them that will be gone over in different pieces; for this one, Valentino is used for Terzo... and Special chooses to call him Vale (val-eh) for short. Think that was all, enjoy :3

As usual, I do not have a beta reader, so if you spot typos or weird spots please lemme know ♥

Extras: Status (And AO3 Link): Complete! Word Count: 1.783

[Death Do Us Part]

Copia comes to him for help.

Even in shock, himself, he manages to stop the remaining members of the upper clergy from banishing him. Omega presses his back further to the corner, growl still building in his throat and tail lashing, violently, from side to side.

"Please… help them—"

"Help them? Help them!? After everything they've done, why should I?" He felt every other death. Alpha. Water. Air. Earth. Drowned. Electrocuted. Suffocated. Burned alive. Special's still alive. He doesn't know where Cowbell is, but he hopes he got away. Special, though—

"Not for them—for Special, please, help him—"

Distract him, so he can be banished. So they both can be. … But if it gets him to where Terzo is…

The path down to the morgue is littered in bodies and viscera and splatter. Copia looks like he's going to be ill, despite doing his best to keep his attention forward. It doesn't help much with the scent or the carnage left in Special's wake. Omega feels the anger long before they reach the doors, torn clean off their hinges. He watches the Arch-Bishops, cautiously.

He doesn't speak up until Copia finally dismisses them, until he's certain they're gone. "I can't possibly imagine how any of you figured this would go differently."

"It wasn't… supposed to be like this. Not this. None of this—"

In a clearer mind, Omega might recognise that Copia wouldn't resort to this level of vengeance. But, Omega doesn't have it in him, neither to filter his response nor curb his own anger any further.

"You knew you were to ascend eventually… did you really think she would let anything stand in your way? I hope the price was worth it, Papa."

Copia isn't ready. He flinches away from the word and Omega knows… he isn't ready for what's coming. Not with this hanging over his head. He takes a deep breath and finally steps over the broken doors to the morgue, taking only a moment to marvel that Special tore straight through them.

He's sitting on the operating table, hunched over himself as he straddles Terzo's midsection. His claws dig, desperately, at his mask and head, like he's trying to pull his hair. Omega's never seen his wings—or… any Ghoul's, now that he considers it. He knew they had wings, but he's never seen them formed or even thought about how they emerged. Shreds and tattered rags of his uniform hang from the wings and he finally realises the other Ghoul is… grinding his teeth together to keep from sobbing or screaming.

His head snaps up, wings flaring out to their full span when noise draws his attention. The anger drains when he finds Omega and his eyes return to normal—true normal. Not the mask of a fire ghoul; the purple glows harshly against the void beneath the mask

"It isn't working… why isn't it working, nothing's working, I've tried everything, he won't wake up—" His mask makes a horrific noise as he drags his claws down it. Omega's surprised he hasn't torn through it yet. "Every element can heal… every element can heal and I am everything, why can't I do this!?" He snaps both horns on his mask, but it doesn't seem to bother him. His physical horns… are shorter than most Ghouls… Omega hopes he missed snapping his physical horns and carefully makes his way over, taking a gentle hold of both wrists.

"Special… you can't heal the dead. You know that."

He does his best not to look at the body. He doesn't want to acknowledge it more than he already has. Special curls further over himself, as best he can with Omega holding his wrists, wings pulled close to his body in security and in an attempt to cover Terzo more thoroughly.

"We are… everything. Why not?"

Everything… Special was everything. Fire was the beat of a heart. Water, the blood in the veins. Air, the breath of life. Earth, the fibers of bone and muscle and flesh that held everything together. … And soul. Terzo traded his soul for them.

He finally releases Special's wrists. "… Special? Try one more time. … I'll help you."

Special doesn't… appear to realise what Omega's trying to do; but, he doesn't argue the order, either. His hands and eyes glow in alternating colours as he cradles Terzo's face, mindful not to dig his claws in, even as he tenses and tries to blink through the tears. Omega doesn't hear what he says, words lost in the echo and growl of old enochian scriptures.

Omega places a hand over Terzo's chest, as gently and discreetly as possible, mindful not to interrupt or distract Special. He can feel the blood running again. He feels the sudden beating of the heart and sees that little bit of colour returning to Terzo's face. His chest barely raises with the tiniest breath… and then another. And another until he's finally breathing… labouriously, but in regular intervals at least.

He thinks Special tries to tell him they did it—but he's also realised what they did. Omega nearly collapses over the body. He thinks he hears Special talking to him—begging him not to go. He barely manages to stop Special trying to heal him… they can’t both leave Terzo alone with this. He can’t say as much; he can barely hold his form. Maybe he could have held back, returned less of the soul he was given… but he had to know it was enough.

He hopes, against all probability, Lucifer will see it… beneficial for Omga to return to Terzo. Whether by letting him out of Hell alone, again, or if Terzo manages to recover enough to perform another summoning…. something more intimate, this time, perhaps.

A personal ghoul, maybe.

Anything that lets him be Terzo's again.

♠

Special feels his wings retracting into his void form as the shock sets in. He gently picks up Omega's mask—the only thing left from his void dissipating, aside from a stain of void on the morgue operating table and Terzo's vestments. His ears perk when he hears a cough beneath him and hastily climbs down from the table, hugging the mask tightly. Hopefully.

For a few moments, Terzo struggles to breathe; but, he manages and even opens his eyes. He barely looks around the room for more than a moment—long enough to take the scene of carnage in and spot his brothers' bodies—before he finds Special. It takes him an effort to sit up; even with Special helping him, he's still clearly going through the shock of dying and coming back; of realising his brothers aren't coming back; of… probably realising that Omega's gone, too.

He opens his mouth, like he's going to ask. Special feels the smallest flicker of hope from his summoner—hope that he's wrong; but, his mouth closes, slowly, and Special feels the hope plummet into guilt and heartbreak as he cautiously holds the mask out for Terzo to take. He doesn't know how to make… this kind of pain go away, or even just hurt a little less.

"... Vale…? Vale, you have to give me an order, I can't just shadow walk you without an order—it isn't safe here—"

That much is obvious. Special's not even sure he's strong enough to shadow walk a human, even his summoner. He's barely holding together as is, even with Omega's help, but Terzo needs to be safe.

"No… it isn't, you're right, but… we will not run."

Special feels something cold trying to spread through his void. They can't give up, not after Omega died for this—

But it doesn't feel like giving up. Terzo is… furious. Heartbroken and angry and… vengeful. Special tilts his head, attention going to the door when he hears movement. Terzo raises his eyes, meeting Copia's evenly. There's a moment of silence between the two—Special might finally appreciate that Copia is more than a little distraught, though he can't determine if it's from the chaos or that Terzo's sitting up and clearly not dead. When Copia doesn't attempt to say anything, Terzo finally speaks back up, one hand settling gently on Special's head to keep him quiet and close.

"... We will cooperate. Provided there are no more attempts such as this. I will see to Special's punishment, that he’s upgraded to the era four masks and uniforms, and any further arrangements for my brothers. See to it that the dearest Sister knows that our Dark Father is most displeased right now… and that it isn't his wrath she needs worry."

Terzo has a plan. Or, at the very least, he has a direction he wants to go. Special falls into place, just behind his shoulder, opposite of where Omega would normally walk, and watches his back the entire time they move through the Ministry.

Hushed whispers follow them; the entire Ministry must already know the brothers "died, suddenly"… and yet, here's one walking about. No one stops them. Terzo doesn't stop until he's back in his room. He sets Omega's mask on his desk, gently. Special stays at the door, wringing his tail, worriedly, in a death grip.

"... Did any of the others…?"

"I… I sent Bell away, before they could banish him. He's safe." For now. Cirice will be the first place they look, if they’re still invested in this asinine slaughter, and he knows she can handle herself. Even if she were who Cowbell was sent to, he’s confident she’d never betray Terzo’s trust. … But, he also wouldn’t force her to protect any of them. They won’t find the Ghoul and they'll run out of leads long before they ever figure out where he’s been sent. "… I couldn't get to anyone else in time…"

"I see… The three of you will have survived and I am grateful…we will need to tread carefully." When Special finally raises his head, he feels a horrifying chill clawing its way up his back. Terzo doesn't meet his eye; he doesn't appear to be looking at anything in particular, but he is furious. His eyes burn, even as his voice freezes the room.

"I will not let them take another one of you from me… I just need time… I need to know this is real."

Special nods, slowly. He's finally starting to process, now that the adrenaline is leaving him. The three of you… Special frowns. He knows Omega's being counted, but Terzo isn't in any shape to perform a summoning, especially not that one.

"… And 'Mega?"

"... They will regret taking him from me. If it's the last damn thing I do, they will regret taking him—all of them from me."

#sqooshy writes #ghost band #rating: general #rating: teen #terzo #omega ghoul #special ghoul #papa emeritus iii #one shot #ao3 link #cw: canon character death

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raitonsfw · 8 months

Note

How do thirsts work? I’m kinda new to this kind of blogs and I don’t wanna mess up sending something that’s more a request than a thirst, if that makes sense

i totally get you as i just started posting last month and am still navigating my way through nsfw blogs and how they're portrayed/what they do!

so i interpret thirsts as like a mini request if that makes sense? like there's not a full length summary included persay, but there is like headcanons and kinks involved in the thirst and there's usually no straight up plot to them.

i've seen alot of thirsts go along with the formatting;

(thinking about... character xxx doing sexual action...)

(what about character xxx doing sexual action?)

(character would be such a xxx in bed)

or something simple like

(xxx!character thirst?)

(need character fucking reader in xxx position pls and ty)

i'll provide some thirsts examples too cuz im especially thirsting for choso from jjk rn.

thinking about... choso and how his hair hangs over his face with sweat dripping down while he's fucking the reader senseless into the crevices of the mattress.

what about choso begging on his knees for the reader's attention like the pretty boy he is, all hot and bothered because god forbid the reader put on a mini skirt?

choso would be such a slut in bed, he would probably pant like a bitch when the reader would so much as touch him.

sub!choso thirst?

need choso fucking reader in a mating press pls and ty.

bonus long thirst: need choso tied up to the bed, his arms spread apart where the reader can see every bulge of muscle, waiting impatiently for them to sit and grind against him. and as the reader hovers over him, he starts to beg for them to hurry up which makes them sit back and refuse to touch him until he quiets down.

they do not have to be this detailed, that's technically what i do for you!

i see them as a kickstarter to write a snippet of slutty wording without having to think of writing a detailed plot surrounding the post like i would for a request. it's just straight up sinful thirsting/simping/pining for a said character and i add more onto the thirst and make it sound absolutely erotic.

there's also alot of people thirsting in the smut tags of whatever character you prefer! that's kinda how i wrote this lol, i basically just went to #choso smut or #choso thirsts and went off of how some asks were written lol.

i hope this was helpful, to be honest i've never really thought of what a true thirst entailed until now so if i sound all over the place, i sincerely apologize!

#𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 ◈#𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚜 ☾#i am literally so sorry if i rambled #got carried away overexplaining haha #choso whores here you go #maybe ill write some of my own thirst asks lol #𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 ✰

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horizon-forbidden-sheesh · 9 months

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Writing Process: Drafting

Sooooo, I started drafting Part 2 almost immediately after Part 1 concluded—and by now I've abandoned my Scrivener file entirely and am doing everything in Google Docs. (I talk about my switch from Scrivener to Google, here. ⚙️)

This time, I didn't have all the journal entries to work from, either. I was starting entirely from a blank slate. So at first, I just let myself WRITE. All the scenes I was most excited about, in no particular order, just to squeeze all the juice out.

I did that for like a month. And then, when I had about 15-20k words of random bits and bobs, I started to put them in order, and develop a through-line. That's where the draft docs & trackers came in.

✏️ Away from Scrivener, I needed some extra organizational tools to house my more general notes, research, & scraps. So, I built this li'l cutie with easy links to all my Google draft files, and included a brief summary that helped me greatly when plotting out the next set 10 chapters for Part 2:

*The chapter titles were updated as my outline changed, but the summaries did not! The descriptor for Chapter 20 is now, like, Chapter 23.

Keeping the descriptors short really helps me stay on task. If I have so much I need to cover in a chapter that it drops my formatting to the next line, I know I probably won't be able to cover everything in ~3,000-5,000 words.

✏️ Now, that's just the first page of the "Table of Contents." As of today, it's 13 pages long, and it also houses a TON of notes and working drafts and snippets of dialogue that I am saving for future, as-yet-unspecified chapters.

It's really messy—and sometimes when I'm out & about and my service is shit, I whip open my old Notes app, just to get a thought down. Here, have a taste of what's been rattling around in my brain...

Dialogue often starts as just the dialogue. I layer in tags & descriptors later, during the editing process. Most of the conversations I've written started with me talking to myself alone in the car, in the shower, or while washing dishes. (This works for copywriting too. My best ideas almost NEVER come to me while I'm sitting-down-looking-at-a-screen. Of course.)

For instance, that same conversation made it from the Notes app into a Google Doc and has since evolved to:

A li'l somethin-somethin from the upcoming Scorcher Season's Chapter 24 🔥

✏️ Once I've got all the major plot points written, I'll go back and write the "boring" stuff in chronological order. Okay, it's not really boring. It's just the filler information that helps a reader get from point A to point B, and I edit as I go. This ends up being like half of the total word count for the full 10 Chapters.

I'm currently hitting this point in Part 3—and you can see below that just writing my favorite parts here and there gets me pretty far on its own. Over the last 3 weeks, I've nearly exhausted my imagination developing the general story arc. Next up, I'll go back and start fleshing out each chapters one by one.

Wanna know something CRAZY?? Over the last ~year, I've noticed that I tend to write nonstop during Mercury Retrogrades. Like, I don't want to do anything else. I'm learning not to schedule any major projects for these ~3 week periods, so I don't blow my deadlines on account of being too obsessed with my fanfic to bother. 😅

After my decision to expand to 4 Parts total, my original ToC Doc got a bit... top heavy. (Also, I got really tired of manually calculating all the word counts.) So, instead of continuing in Docs, I added a tab to my spreadsheet:

*Hiding my chapter summaries so as not to spoil!! 😈

As you can see, I fill in the links as I create the draft docs... and I've already had to split a chapter in half due to scale, so the untitled <Scorcher 7> dropped to Part 4. I'm hopeful I won't have to split any more, so I can end strong on 'Ten Days.'

I don't usually start the finale until the very end, because I've learned that the wonderful comments I receive will sometimes give me extra ideas that I want to ensure make it into the fic!

✏️ Around the time I've fully completed the first 5 chapters, I'll give myself the green light to start posting. That leaves me just enough runway to finish out the rest of the season, and posting on a timeline helps keeps me motivated & accountable!

This is getting kinda long, so I'll write about Trackers & Timelines I've developed along the way in another post.

Thanks for being here! 🖤

xo, Sheesh.

#hfw #horizon forbidden west #kotaloy #The Marshal #the making of #writing process #writing tools #writing advice

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gerec · 4 years

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Tagged by the wonderful @turtletotem :D :D :D

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

It's Been A Long Time - 7.6k, Cherik, Call Me By Your Name AU

It's been fifteen years since Erik last saw Charles Xavier, when they fell in love over the course of one unforgettable summer. Since then their lives have gone in very different directions, though their short love affair left an indelible mark that still ties them together.

This fic and the next on the list are my favourites from this year; they’re both about ends of relationships and the highs and lows therein, though this one at least has a happy ending. IBALT is inspired entirely by the last part of the book, which hit me the hardest and I loved the most, and I was happy to translate all those emotions into a story for my favorite pairing.

An End Comes to All Good Things - 5k, Cherik, Erik/Shaw, Charles/Logan

Sometimes love isn't enough, and good relationships still end. For Erik it happens sooner than expected, when he begins an affair with his boss and mentor, Sebastian Shaw. For Charles, it happens later than it should, after a proposal that never happens.

This...I have no idea what prompted this story, though I’m really glad I wrote it, and I think it’s one of my best. It feels honest and raw to me, and almost cathartic to get down, and mature and emotional in a way I’m really proud of. It’s also maybe the only Cherik fic I’ve written where they start in a relationship and break up and don’t get back together? Definitely a first.

The Master of Charlton Park - 45k, Cherik, Charles/Steve, a/o

On the brink of losing his ancestral home, omega Charles Xavier agreed to do the unthinkable; he would sacrifice his own happiness for the sake of his family, and bear a child for a married alpha and his mate.

But Charles never expected that alpha to be Erik Lehnsherr, with whom he shared an impossible love and undeniable passion.

I tell anyone who’ll listen that I’m not usually a huge fan of regency au, so of course I have to go and write 45k of it lol (not all this year - I just finished it in 2020). It was (I thought) a sufficiently trope-y bodice ripping romance, and I’m quite happy with how it went/ended, so much thanks to darling @ikeracity for giving me the plot bunny to begin with :D

AU-gust Challenge - 27k, Cherik, various pairings

This was surprisingly tough to do, to write an au a day for the entire month but I’m so glad I stuck it out! There are a least a few ficlets that deserve a follow-up/I have more ideas to explore, and I definitely hope to get around to addressing them in 2021! My favorites of the bunch:

Soulmate AU - An old painting leads to a chance meeting with destiny. (Cherik)

Royalty AU - Charles runs from Genosha, and the possibility of happiness with the Crown Prince. (Cherik)

Space AU (Part 1) - Charles and Raven get a lucrative job offer.

Space AU (Part 2) - Erik shows up to make Charles' bad day worse. (Cherik)

Private Detective AU - PD Charles is accused of Shaw's murder. (Erik/Shaw, Cherik)

Monster Hunters AU - Logan vows to save Charles from his vampire lover. (Cherik, Xavierine)

Magic AU - Dark Mage!Erik takes Paladin!Charles prisoner. (Cherik)

you can never tell (with eyes downcast remix) - 3.4k, Charles/Kurt

Kurt lets himself get caught. Charles loses, even when he wins.

@irelise wrote such a gorgeous fic for these two that I just had to remix it, and dig further into the twisted ‘relationship’ between them. I like that the fic ends with Charles being just as messed up as he’s always been, not really having learned any lessons or resolved any issues, and possibly taking those same hangups into future affairs...

#gerec writes #gerec rambles #2020 in fic #2020 #gerec's 2020 #fic summary #cherik #xavierine #starles #i usually do a full summary of total works and words written #but honestly this is the best of the bunch here #so i'll just leave it at that

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minisugakoobies · 3 years

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All Wound Up (Tighter) | KTH, JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader x Taehyung

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plots, strangers to lovers, Rock Star!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, kissing, dirty talk, fingering, masturbation (m), voyeurism, oral (m & f receiving), vaginal sex, threesome, orgasms

Word Count: 6K

Disclaimer: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Jungkook and Taehyung help you unwind.

A/N: Inspired by the body harnesses worn by the vocal line at Permission to Dance On Stage. Easily the dirtiest thing I've ever written. I'm sorry or you're welcome, take your pick. Unbeta'd as usual.

I have absolutely no idea what goes into making jewelry or harnesses, so if you’re hoping for authentic details or facts in this story *waves hand like a Jedi* this isn’t the story you’re looking for. Actually, that goes for anyone looking for anything remotely resembling reality. Reality didn’t leave the building - it never entered in the first place.

Dedicated to my Jimin support group @reliablemitten @hannahbee12719 @yeontan-my-love. I thought we needed a break from his diabolical ways, so I… wrote about a threesome with the other maknaes? Whoops. Special shoutout to Poppy and @smasmashin for the assist with the title (insert Jungkook wink with finger guns gif) 💕Let me know what you think - my inbox is open!

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

“What do you mean, they want a fitting?”

Hoseok just stared at you. “I mean, they want a fitting. How are you not getting this?”

You wrinkled your nose in irritation. “But… they sent in their measurements. They don’t need a fitting. I’ve done a thousand of these harnesses by now. Are you really doubting my skills after all this time?”

He shouldn’t be. Your body accessories shop, Dark & Wild, was incredibly popular and business was booming. It had been, ever since you’d expanded from typical jewelry like necklaces and arm bands into full-body harnesses and chains, opening up a new market and creating more demand for your painstakingly handcrafted jewelry.

You worked in gold and silver, leather and metal, twisting and shaping the harshest elements to create the most exquisite adornments. It didn’t matter how much they resisted; eventually, everything bent to your demands. Hoseok often joked that the toughest thing in your shop wasn’t your tools or the materials you worked with, but your will.

He wasn’t wrong.

Hoseok sighed, pinching his nose. “Of course not. I know you know what you’re doing! You’re the best there is. It’s why I made you my business partner all those years ago.”

“Excuse me, I believe I made you my partner when I opened this shop!”

“Right, when you realized you needed someone to run the books and talk to clients and generally do everything except craft the products.” He glanced at his watch. “Look, will you please just do this for me? These guys are friends of a dear friend of mine, and he promised they’d make it worthwhile.”

“You mean they’re willing to pay a lot.”

He grinned, lighting up the room like a tiny, annoying sun. “Yep!”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. “But where exactly am I supposed to do this fitting?” You gestured around your shop, which was a workspace, not a storefront. All of your jewelry was sold online only, every piece made to order according to your clients’ desires.

Hoseok waved a hand. “I’m sure this is fine. But if you want, I know they’re staying at the Black Swan downtown. I can text and get their room number if you’d rather meet them there.”

“The Black Swan?” You whistled. “Fancy. Who are these guys again?”

“My friend Yoongi’s clients. He’s their manager. They’re in some rock band - Autumn Trees? No. Autumn Leaves?” He snapped his fingers. “Dead Leaves!”

You snorted. “Sounds emo.” Setting down the piece you’d been working on, you sighed. “Fine. I’ll interrupt my busy day to go meet these two total strangers in a hotel room, and if they turn out to be bloodthirsty killers and murder me, I’ll just haunt your ass for the rest of your life. And if they don’t turn out to be bloodthirsty killers, I’ll still haunt your ass for making me do this. It’ll just be a while before I get there.”

Hoseok beamed, pulling you into a quick hug. “You’re the best, sugar.”

“I know.”

Hoseok texted you the details the next morning. You were to meet your clients - Taehyung and Jungkook, those were their names - at 2. You spent the morning in your shop, finishing up a few pieces before lunch. Around 1, you gently packed their orders into your rolling carrying case and headed out.

You fiddled with the straps on your Doc Martens on the train to downtown. A sleazy looking guy sitting across from you leered as your leather skirt rode up on your thighs, and you scowled and gave him the bird. You weren’t in the mood to pretend not to notice, annoyed that you were making this special trip to begin with.

Your mood didn’t improve any by the time the train finally arrived 15 minutes later than it was supposed to, due to some issue on the tracks. Hustling down the crowded sidewalk towards the hotel, you swore as one of the wheels on your case suddenly came loose and rolled directly into a sewer grate. Picking up the case, you tucked it under your arm as you finally strolled into the hotel and directly into an elevator, collapsing against a mirrored wall in relief.

Sweat was prickling your forehead as you knocked on the hotel room door. You hoped you didn’t look like a mess, frowning slightly as you realized how late you were running.

You raised your hand to knock again, just as the door opened. Your fist bounced off of a solid chest. “Fuck! Sorry!” you yelped, retracting your hand as if you’d been shocked.

The face that greeted you was impassive. Gorgeous, but impassive. A pair of dark eyes assessed you with a sweeping gaze.

A beat passed.

“Um, hi.” You introduced yourself. “I’m here for your fitting?”

The gorgeous man said nothing, but opened the door fully and nodded to indicate that you could enter.

“Thanks.” You inspected him as you passed. Shadowed, hypnotic eyes framed with long lashes and killer cheekbones. A dark mop of wild curls held back by a headband. Black jeans and a black and white printed shirt. He looked like a rock star, all right.

A rock star from a very successful band, if the size of the suite was anything to judge by. You walked down a small corridor into a large sitting room, with plush couches and giant artwork on the walls. Two of the walls, anyway, since the wall in front of you was floor to ceiling glass windows.

“Shit,” you breathed, looking out at the city skyline.

“Yeah, it’s a nice view, huh?” A voice piped up beside you. Draped across one of the couches was another gorgeous man. Only this one smiled at you innocently, nose crinkling as he did. “I’m Jungkook. You must be…”

You gave him your name. He repeated it softly, the pleasing timbre of his voice making you wonder if he was the lead singer. Then again, you didn’t know anything about the band - maybe they were all singers.

Jungkook stood, running his hand through mint-colored hair, revealing a dark undercut. Small silver hoops glittered in both of his ears, matching the hoop nestled in the corner of his plump bottom lip. He was dressed a little more relaxed than the other man (who you now assumed was Taehyung), wearing an oversized long-sleeved black shirt and black joggers. His round eyes seemed so open and pure. You could imagine falling helplessly into them.

Yeah, definitely seemed like lead singer material.

“Sorry I’m late,” you apologized. “There was a problem with the train tracks and then my case broke.”

“No worries. We just got in from our soundcheck anyway, so the timing worked out,” Jungkook replied.

Taehyung continued to say nothing, just observing you with those eyes. You weren’t sure if you liked that or not.

“So, where do you want us?”

You glanced around the room. “Is there a mirror somewhere that we can use?”

“Uh, yeah. Right this way.”

You followed the men down another hallway into a bedroom. A bedroom that was almost wastefully large for being so minimally decorated, consisting of a gigantic bed, one night stand, and one armchair and table tucked into the corner. The largest tv you’d ever seen was suspended on the wall across from the bed, artwork hung behind the bed on a second wall, the third wall was all window, and the entire fourth wall? One colossal mirror.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to make do,” you muttered, earning a snicker from Jungkook.

You laid your case on the bed. Jungkook flopped onto the pile of pillows at the head of the bed while Taehyung sat on the edge.

“Who wants to go first?”

“I can.” Taehyung’s voice was surprisingly deep as he finally spoke. You motioned for him to stand beside you.

He began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Um, you can leave that on. The harness will fit over any shirt, so even if this isn’t the one you’ll be wearing on stage, it’ll work fine for this.”

“I don’t wear shirts on stage.”

Oh. Well then. “Okay.”

You tugged on the zipper on your case. It wouldn’t budge. Frowning, you tugged harder, only for the pull to snap off in your hand. “Ah, shit.” “Everything okay?” Jungkook inquired.

“No. Stupid zipper broke.” And of course all your tools were inside, so you couldn’t use them to fix it. “Do you have a sewing kit around here?” As big as the hotel suite was, there was probably an entire sewing room down one of the corridors.

Taehyung stopped undressing long enough to find you a kit. Just as you got the zipper open, you managed to prick yourself with the pin. “Motherfucker!” You sucked on your finger as both men looked on in concern. “Sorry. Just… It's been a bad day.”

You missed the glance they exchanged as you finally opened your case and removed Taehyung’s piece. Holding his harness in your hands, you turned, and blinked.

If you didn’t know better, you’d swear you were back in your workspace, because the figure next to you was as cut as the realistic fiberglass mannequin you used to photograph your jewelry. Your eyes raked over Taehyung’s smooth chest and the grooves of his abs, settling briefly on the defined v line above the waist of his tight jeans before you caught yourself.

But the mannequin you owned did not have a sprawling tattoo running from its neck down its torso and around its back, an enormous mass of rambling branches and trailing flowers that almost seemed to flutter as he breathed.

“Wow. That’s some gorgeous artwork.”

He just nodded.

You carefully draped the harness over his waiting frame. He lowered his head as you clasped the neck piece, and you inhaled something sweet and floral. Surprising.

Stepping back, you marveled at your handiwork. Taehyung had ordered a black piece, with slender twists meant to mimic thorns. Set against his tattoo, you now understood the request. The metal wound around his neck twice, first as a choker, then a larger loop that connected to a chain running down the center of his chest. At his navel, the chain split to flare out over his hips.

Jungkook joined the two of you, hand reaching out to gently touch the harness that hung on his bandmate. “Wow. You made this?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“That’s so cool.” He twirled one of the thorns between his fingertips. “You have very talented hands.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

“I wish I could make stuff. But I’ve been told my skills lie elsewhere.” He winked, taking a seat on the bed, reclining on his elbows, watching Taehyung spin in the mirror as he examined the chain.

You rolled your eyes at his cheeky response, watching Taehyung spin in the mirror as he examined the chain. The harness draped beautifully down his torso, the black metal accenting the tattoo and giving him a mysterious, sexy air.

As if those dark eyes didn’t do that enough.

Silently patting yourself on the back, you continued to admire the way the chain skimmed over Taehyung’s striking figure, only to stop when he asked, “Can it be tighter?”

“Tighter?” you repeated incredulously. “Well, yeah, sure, I can make it tighter, but don’t you need to move around the stage?” You still didn’t know if he played an instrument or danced or what, so you weren’t sure how much freedom of movement he’d need. “And if I do, there’s a chance the thorns could dig into your skin. Might hurt a little.”

“I can take it.”

Ooookay.

“You’re the boss,” you commented, and took the chain in your hands. Twisting lightly, you looked at Taehyung. “Is this tight enough?”

He shook his head. Something dark flashed in his eyes. “Tighter.”

You bit your lip and twisted another link. “And now?”

“Is the chain going to break?”

“No,” you scoffed, slightly insulted that he was questioning your work.

“Neither am I. Tighter.”

Your hand brushed against his chest as you wound the chain around your fingers. He was hot to the touch, yet a wave of goosebumps rippled down your arm as you glanced into his eyes again.

“Perfect,” he drawled, smirking.

His gaze lingered on your lips a little too long.

Fuck. You reminded yourself that you were a professional, and focused on the alterations you would need to make. Taehyung held the chain for you as you typed a few notes into your phone, then you snapped a few photos for reference before unclasping the harness and putting it away.

One down.

“My turn!” Jungkook sprang to his feet like an eager puppy and bounded to your side as Taehyung put his shirt back on, taking a seat in the armchair. Before you could ask about his stagewear preference, Jungkook reached behind his head and yanked his shirt off one-handed.

Again, you were greeted by the sight of firm pecs and ridiculously defined abs. These men clearly believed in treating their bodies like temples. Ones that their fans would be all too happy to worship at, no doubt.

Like Taehyung, Jungkook was covered in ink. His right arm had a sleeve of tattoos, a series of markings in various sizes and shapes that coated his arm in a chaotic collection.

“You guys really like tattoos, huh?” You couldn’t help but smile. “Way to fight the rock star stereotype.”

Jungkook grinned a sweet bunny smile, all teeth and wrinkled nose. It was rather disarming, and actually did make him look like less of a rock star cliche, so you begrudgingly gave him credit.

Then you reminded yourself to concentrate on getting the job done. You had so much work waiting for you back at your shop.

Jungkook’s harness appeared more simple than Taehyung’s in front, a simple gunmetal grey chain, no choker or loops, no thorns, hanging in a straight line down his torso and splitting at his navel. However, the back was more complex, a pattern of woven strands strung like a spider web over his shoulder blades, tapering down to his waist.

Jungkook stood still as you adjusted the harness over his form. Taller than Taehyung, he had to stoop slightly while you played with the closure. Your fingertips scraped the nape of his neck and he shuddered.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “Ticklish?”

“A little,” he confessed, peering over his shoulder to watch as you straightened several kinked sections, fixing the way the web draped over his strong back. “Thanks for doing this, by the way. Yoongi-hyung said you don’t usually do fittings.”

“That’s right. And you’re welcome.” You frowned slightly, wondering why so many links were twisted where they shouldn’t be. “Why exactly did you guys want a fitting, anyway?”

He shrugged, the harness lifting slightly as his broad shoulders moved. “We take our stagewear seriously, down to the last detail. We didn’t get to where we are by doing things half-assed.”

“Hmm.” You took a step back, scouring the chain for any other imperfections and finding none. “I can understand that.”

“I’m sure you can.” Jungkook turned and grinned at you. “Yoongi-hyung said Hobi-hyung said that you were the best of the best. That’s why we chose you.”

“You chose me?” You tilted your head.

“Your shop. That’s why we chose to buy from your shop.” He bit his lip.

You couldn’t help but smile at his embarrassed expression. “I think you’re good now, if you want to take a look?”

Jungkook rotated slowly, inspecting the harness from all angles in the mirror. The delicate chain made an interesting contrast against his solid frame. You couldn’t help but admire the way the metal shone against his skin, highlighting the muscles that undulated as he moved. You also couldn’t help but admire the muscles themselves.

“Thoughts?” you inquired.

Another grin. “I love it.”

He twirled a few times, letting out a high-pitched giggle, making you laugh in surprise. His giggle was delightfully at odds with his physique. It was charming as hell.

“If you have no objections, then I’ll just take it back to my shop and polish it up without making any alterations.”

You tried to slide behind him to undo the clasp, but Jungkook jumped away. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing?” you repeated. “I’m taking the harness off you? So I can take it back to my shop, like I said?”

“Are you in that much of a hurry to leave?” His eyes glimmered.

Your eyes narrowed.

“The fitting is over, so I should be on my way. I’ve got a lot of work to finish up this afternoon.” You reached for the harness again, but he dodged you. “Hey! Stop that!”

He giggled, spinning around and grabbing your wrists - loosely, but with enough force that you were pulled against him. You inhaled sharply, eyes wide as you gazed up. The gleam in his eye seemed a lot less mischievous and a lot more… wicked.

“You seem stressed. A little… wound up. It must be difficult, running your own business, doing all that hard work yourself.” His thumbs stroked your wrists. “Don’t you think you deserve to have some fun?”

“Yeah,” a low voice rumbled from the corner, and you jumped. Taehyung had been sitting so quietly in the armchair for so long that you’d completely forgotten he was still in the room. “There’s no need to run off. Stay a while. Relax.”

You glanced between the two men. “Okay, I’m not really sure what you guys are suggesting, but I think I should go.” You were actually pretty sure that you knew exactly what they were suggesting. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t tempted to mess around with one of them, but both?

This kind of thing didn’t really happen, did it?

“We’re just suggesting that you indulge yourself a little,” Taehyung rose from his seat, crossing the room leisurely. With his intense gaze, the movement reminded you of nothing more than a tiger stalking its prey.

“Yeah. Come on. Play with us,” Jungkook crooned sweetly, watching you through lowered eyelashes. “We appreciate you coming here. Accommodating us.”

“Let us thank you,” Taehyung whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as you realized he was right behind you. His hands ghosted over your shoulders, sweeping your hair out of the way as a pair of lips suddenly danced along your neck.

Your head spun, fragments of thoughts flitting through your mind. All those unfinished pieces waiting for you back at your shop. Whether it was unprofessional to sleep with two (two!) clients. If you should follow the likely well-worn path of a typical groupie and hook up with these rock stars.

If you deserved to cut loose. Unwind.

These were all swept aside by one incredibly loud statement: Fuck it, let’s ride.

Twisting the chain around your fingers, you tugged Jungkook towards you. He reacted immediately, lips smashing into yours. Taehyung pressed himself into your back, his hands on your hips as Jungkook’s hands threaded through your hair.

Trapped between the two men, you moaned wantonly. Two pairs of hands roamed your body. Two pairs of lips covered your skin in kisses. Your pussy throbbed, begging for attention, and you crushed your pelvis into Jungkook’s, trying desperately to grind against the erection that was jutting into your thigh.

Jungkook broke the kiss, chuckling. “Need something, baby?” he purred, nipping at your lips. You nodded, gasping as one of Taehyung’s hands slid down your front, coming to rest between your thighs. He rubbed his fingers along your crotch, the sudden pressure making you keen, growling into your shoulder as he felt the dampness growing there.

“I think she needs you, Kook,” he murmured. Just as you were starting to buck against his hand, setting a rhythm, he suddenly released his grip on you and drew away.

“Wha…?” you panted, looking back in confusion. Jungkook’s hand grasped your chin and brought your focus back to him.

“Come on, baby. Let me help you out.” He guided you to the bed, gently pushing on your hips to get you to sit. “Lie back for me.”

You did as instructed, sliding up the bed until you hit the pile of soft pillows. Jungkook followed, crawling up the bed.

But Taehyung had taken his seat in the armchair again.

“I thought…?” you trailed off as you looked at him, puzzled.

Jungkook followed your gaze. “Taehyungie likes to watch,” he explained.

Oh.

Jungkook took a moment to undo the straps of your boots, sliding them off and dropping them to the floor. His hands slid up your bare legs, stopping at your thighs, gently nudging your legs apart. You could feel your panties sticking to you as his eyes swept over you, and he leaned forward to shove your skirt up to your waist.

“Hmmm, I think you were right, Tae. She’s soaking through her panties.” Jungkook clucked his tongue. “Poor thing. You want me to remove those for you?”

You were no shrinking violet. You never shied away from using your voice. But something about Jungkook’s tone had you holding your tongue. You wanted him to take care of you. So you just nodded.

Jungkook hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, swiftly tugging them down. Once they were freed from your legs, he turned and chucked them over his shoulder, directly into Taehyung’s waiting hand.

You watched, mouth agape, as Taehyung unzipped his pants, freeing the thickest cock you’d ever seen. As you continued to stare, Taehyung stroked himself a few times with his empty hand.

Then he switched hands, rubbing himself with the sodden, satiny material.

“Oh god,” you groaned, unable to stifle yourself.

Jungkook’s face popped into your field of vision. “Back to me, baby,” he commanded, and you turned your attention back to the minty-haired man kneeling between your legs. “I want you to watch me, okay?”

“Okay,” you echoed weakly. You propped yourself up on the pillows as best you could.

Jungkook smirked, lying on his stomach, the harness biting into his skin and leaving indentations as he slid his arms under your thighs, locking them in place with his forearms. Gentle kisses flitted against your folds, and you sighed happily. Then you gasped in surprise as his tongue slid inside you, lapping at your core.

Jungkook’s gifts did indeed lie elsewhere. Namely, his golden tongue. He had you moaning in no time. You dug your hands into the plush blankets, seeking to anchor yourself as he added one finger, then a second, then a third, working you open with his hand as his tongue suckled at your clit, his lip ring rubbing enticingly. His eyes twinkled devilishly as he watched you, drinking in the way you writhed above him just as he drank in your slickness.

“How does she taste, Kook?”

Jungkook just whined, the needy sound spurring you to buck against his face in reply.

You rolled your head to the side, looking into the mirror. Taehyung’s reflection fucked his hand feverishly, an intense expression of concentration on his face. Knowing that you were the focus of that fierce gaze pushed you over the edge, the tiny mewls falling from your lips becoming a steady wail as you came all over Jungkook’s face. He let out a hoarse “Ah!” at the sensation of you clamping down on his hand, and ground his hips into the bed as he licked you through your orgasm, until you finally pushed his head away.

A stuttered cry from the corner told you that Taehyung had cum as well.

Panting, you stared into the mirror, watching Taehyung as he came down. Jungkook sat back on his heels, licking his lips, looking satisfied. You observed him through half-lidded eyes, still blissed out from your release. His erection was mouthwateringly large.

You wanted to taste him.

“How do you feel now?” Jungkook asked, hands softly caressing your calves. “Still stressed?”

“Mmmm, no.” You sat up, and swung your legs underneath you so that you were kneeling. “Definitely not stressed.” Your fingers trailed up Jungkook’s thigh.

He tipped his head as he watched your hand move towards his bulge. “Did you want to play a little more?”

“Yes please,” you all but groaned as you palmed him through his jeans. He hissed, hips lifting at your machinations.

Taehyung stalked across the room, shedding his clothes. He was already half-hard again by the time he sat behind you, his hands tugging at your shirt. You raised your arms, helping him as Jungkook’s fingers reached behind you to unzip your skirt. Within seconds, you were completely naked, Taehyung’s hands caressing your breasts as his hot breath tickled your neck.

“You need a hand, Kook?” Taehyung asked, fingers rolling your nipples between them. You arched slightly into his touch, head dropping back against his shoulder as he fondled you. “I think you should show him how talented those hands are, baby. Maybe that lovely mouth, too. What do you think - should you take care of him now?”

“Mmm, yeah, I wanna suck him off,” you managed to reply, answering Taehyung while meeting Jungkook’s eyes. Jungkook wasted no time, standing to slide his jeans off.

For the second time that afternoon, you were stunned by the sight of a massive cock. Whereas Taehyung was thick, Jungkook was long, and deliciously curved. The bright red tip of his dick looked almost painful, and you held out your hands, beckoning to him to rejoin you on the bed.

He knelt in front of you, and you got on your hands and knees, crawling towards him until you held his cock in your hand. You stroked him lightly, taking the tip in your mouth, coating him with your tongue. Then you surged forward and took him in, not stopping until your nose brushed against his pelvis.

“Fuck,” he gasped. You hummed around him, pleased to take him by surprise.

Then you nearly choked, as a pair of lips kissed at your entrance from behind you.

Taehyung had dropped to the floor, burying his face in your folds as you sucked Jungkook off. He teased you with long, agonizingly slow licks, swirling his tongue around your clit, which was still sensitive from Jungkook’s petting. You bobbed on Jungkook’s dick, swallowing down the saliva that flooded your mouth, making him curse.

Jungkook’s hands were in your hair, unrestrained pleas escaping him as you worked him over, calling you baby again and again, begging you not to stop. Taehyung had one hand on your thigh, holding you in place while he continued to lave at you, the other gripping his cock.

The sounds in the room were a clash of whimpers and moans, wet sounds of mouths and hands. A filthy cacophony of delights.

Jungkook began to thrust into your mouth, and you gagged slightly, but didn’t stop him. He babbled as his hips moved. “Fuck, baby, take it all,” he wheedled, singing your name.

You moaned around him and he threw his head back. “If you keep that up, I’m gonna cum right in that sweet mouth.” You hummed again, giving your consent, but his hips stilled and he pulled out.

You remained on your knees, a protest forming on your lips, because you weren’t done with him, but before you could utter a word, you suddenly doubled over, hiding your face in the blankets instead as Taehyung sucked unrelentingly on your clit, driving you insane with pleasure.

You longed for more than just his mouth.

“Taehyung, please,” you practically sobbed. “I need more.” When did you become this needy creature, such a sniveling mess? What had these men done to you?

Jungkook climbed onto the bed, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you furiously. You lost yourself in his embrace, letting him plunge his tongue into your willing mouth as his hands roved downward, squeezing your ass.

Taehyung suddenly appeared by your side as Jungkook rolled you onto your back.

He gave you a dark look, eyes raking over your naked body. “Kook, I think she’s ready for more.” He dropped his head to your breasts, lightly teething at a nipple. “Are you ready, baby? You want Kook to fuck you now?” His tongue caressed what his teeth had just stung.

If someone didn’t put their dick in you soon, you were going to explode. “God, yes, please fuck me!”

Jungkook grinned lasciviously, leaning over to trail kisses along your stomach. “You’re the boss.”

Taehyung rifled through the night stand, tossing Jungkook a condom. Then he settled himself against the headboard, his hand lazily gliding over his cock as Jungkook sheathed himself and lined up against you.

The metal chain hanging from his chest brushed your skin as he hovered above you. He dropped his lips to yours, and with a kiss he pushed inside. He slid in slowly, making sure you were comfortable as you adjusted to his length. You’d never felt so full, your eyes falling shut as you focused on the incredible sensation.

Once the glorious stretch stopped aching, you urged him to move by lifting your hips.

Jungkook did not hesitate.

He snapped his hips, setting a brutal pace, and your eyes flew open as you began to pant. “Fuck! Jungkook!” was all you could spit out, your brain shutting down anything not related to the intense pleasure you were experiencing.

Your head lolled back, and you caught Taehyung’s eye. He was once again staring at you as you bounced underneath Jungkook, mouth open in rapture as he jerked off. The debauched sight was overwhelming.

You wanted to touch him so badly.

Time to make them bend.

“Jungkook,” you moaned, turning your attention back to the man fucking you relentlessly. Your hand wrapped around the chain dangling from his neck, and you yanked, pulling him down. He lost his rhythm, hands stretching out to stop himself from falling on top of you. “Jungkook, stop.”

He lifted his head, a concerned look on his face. “What’s wrong, baby,” he huffed, searching your face. “Am I hurting you? You wanna stop?”

Releasing your grip on the harness, you gently pushed him off of you, and he pulled out. Sitting up, you looked Jungkook in the eye. “I wanna ride you.”

“Oh hell yeah.” You didn’t have to ask twice. Jungkook threw himself on the bed and gazed up at you, quirking an eyebrow. “Hop on, baby.”

You shook your head. “Nuh-uh. Not there.” You pointed at the head of the bed, where Taehyung was watching you. “Up there.”

Jungkook looked at Taehyung, who nodded. He positioned himself next to the dark-haired man, leaning back against the headboard. “Like this?”

“Mmmhmm.”

Crawling up the bed, you straddled Jungkook. Slowly, you sank down on him, both of you sighing blissfully as you did.

Then you reached out, winding the chain around your hand, jerking him forward as you began to bounce on his dick. You crushed your mouth against his, swallowing the heavenly sounds he made as you rode him.

But you didn’t forget about Taehyung. The hand not wrapped around Jungkook’s harness crept towards his lap. Tearing yourself away from Jungkook’s lips for a moment, you tilted your head towards Taehyung.

“May I?” Your hand hovered above his cock, waiting.

He nodded.

Jungkook grunted in your ear, his teeth nibbling on your lobe, as you wrapped your hand around Taehyung and began to stroke. You gripped him as best you could, unable to close your hand around his thickness.

Taehyung’s head fell back against the headboard as he exhaled a guttural moan. The sound shot straight to your core and you clenched around Jungkook, who hissed.

You slowed your pace, rolling your hips to grind into Jungkook as you focused on pleasuring both men at once. From the wordless noises he made, you could tell that Taehyung was enjoying your hand, but it wasn’t enough for you.

“Taehyung,” you murmured. He glanced up. “I wanna taste you. Can I?”

He nodded.

You were flexible, but you couldn’t bend enough to take him from your current position. So you let go of Jungkook’s chain and pried his hands from your hips. “Be right back,” you winked, and before he could respond, you popped off of him, turning around.

“Fuck, you’ve got a great ass,” he muttered, hands reaching out to grope as you laughed and began to ride him, reverse cowgirl style.

“C’mere,” you purred to Taehyung. He towered over you on the bed, cock at the perfect level. You licked your lips and took him in.

You felt your jaw pop and knew that it would be sore tomorrow, but it was worth the pain. Quickly establishing a tempo, you alternated your mouth with your hands, stroking and sucking as he stared down at you, mouth falling open again in ecstasy. His fingers clutched at his sides, and you reached out, taking one of his large hands and placing it on your head, silently instructing him to take control.

As if that was the cue he’d been waiting for, Jungkook suddenly grabbed your hips, fingers curling into your skin, and began thrusting up into you, taking over the pace of your fucking. You moaned around Taehyung, saliva spilling over as you began to drool from the way Jungkook pounded into you.

But you were at the mercy of Taehyung’s hips now, too, as he began to fuck your mouth in earnest, mindlessly burying himself in the inviting warm wetness of your mouth. Breathy grunts and gasps accompanied every lunge of his hips.

A switch flipped in Jungkook as he fucked you vigorously, a surprisingly lewd stream of drivel pouring forth from his lips. “Fuck, you like that, baby? Like the way we fuck you? So fucking hot, taking us both like this. Wanna fuck this cunt all night, wanna make you cum on my cock ‘til you can’t see straight!”

You whined, frenzied, drowning in so many sensations. You were achingly close to climax, just needing a helping hand.

So you grasped Jungkook’s hand, guiding it from your hip down to your clit, and pressed his fingers against you.

He leaned forward, brushing his lips against the nape of your neck as he breathed, “You need me, baby?”

Unable to speak or nod, you squeezed his fingers, hoping he’d understand.

He did.

You came with a shuddering cry, Taehyung pulling out of your mouth to let the sound fill the room. You turned to liquid in Jungkook’s arms, euphoric, melting against him as pleasure rolled through you. As you spasmed around him, he came as well, chanting your name as he released inside you, filling the condom with his hot seed.

Taehyung pumped his cock, panting hard. “Baby,” he gasped out brokenly, “baby, I’m gonna… where can I…”

You opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue.

He groaned as he came down your throat, dark eyes widening as you licked him clean.

Jungkook sagged against the headboard, and you smiled as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest. You cocked your head up at Taehyung, and he read the question in your eyes, curling up beside you and resting his head on your thighs.

The three of you laid that way for several minutes, until Jungkook broke the silence.

“So… still in a hurry to leave?”

Hoseok called you the next morning, waking you from a dead sleep. You grumbled a hello.

“Morning, sugar! I don’t know what magic you worked with Taehyung and Jungkook, but now the other band members are asking for their own harnesses. They’re placing their orders as we speak.”

“Oh,” you grunted, your left eye falling shut as if you were trying to half-sleep while talking. “That’s nice.”

“Oh yeah!” He paused. “Hold on, text from Yoongi. Let me put you on speaker so I can read.”

You switched eyes.

“Huh, ok, looks like they also want a private fitting. Well, I don’t know how quickly you can make their pieces, but he says they’ll be back in town in a few weeks. Do you think you could arrange to meet Jin and Jimin then? They're the other guys in the band. Oh, they’re offering to host you again, said they’re happy to do it.”

You pondered for less than a millisecond. “Yeah, I can probably arrange something.”

“Great! Yoongi said they can’t wait to have you.”

A/N II: Part two coming at some point! (Update 5/24/22 - it's here!)

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