#im hesitant to even share his name but this is just so satisfying i can’t help it

[sapphic-luthor]

we love to see it

[paterson-blue]

Honey, You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago); Part 3

Part 3: The Date

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5

Summary: Things don't go exactly to plan. Clyde stresses.

Word Count: 4,010

Warnings: fluff, spice, grumpy Clyde Logan, pouty boy (but he's still in love), sentimentalism, sickly sweet pet names, smoochin', grindin', oral sex (male receiving), cum on body (not in!), original female character–let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Thanks again to @paper-n-ashes for being my beta reader & quelling all my writing jitters. You're the absolute best!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

It’s a fuckin’ disaster.

Starts out nice. Juniper shows up on his doorstep wearin’ a slinky little black dress, one that shows off her curves and makes Clyde’s mouth go dry. She tells him he looks handsome and he feels giddy. He sweeps his newly styled hair out of his face, sayin’ she looks absolutely stunnin’. Juniper beams, grabs his hand, tells him they better get a move on ‘fore they’re late.

They’re late. They’re later than late.

They aren’ five minutes outta town when lightenin’ starts to streak across the sky. Clyde shifts uneasily, eyes cast upward towards the swirling heavens. It’s rainin’ cats and dogs in no time and Juniper has to slow to half the speed limit to drive safely. Clyde’s thoughts go to the river up ahead, the one the road crew was still tryna’ re-stabilize since the last storm flooded it.

Fifteen minutes from their destination and they have t’pull to a stop on the highway, suddenly blocked in a jam. Flashin’ red and blue lights indicate an accident up front, and while Clyde spares a thought to whoever was involved, he can’t help but check the time. They aren’ gonna make their reservation, he just knows it.

The car behind ‘em lays on its horn, the sound makin’ both Clyde & Juniper jump. The driver either doesn’ seem to understand the concept of bein’ stuck or plain just don’ care. Clyde clenches his jaw, glowerin’ into the rear view mirror—he can only see the driver’s silhouette behind the bright glow of the headlights. He’s keepin’ his cool until the driver reaches his arm out, in the pourin’ rain an’ all, just t’give Juniper the finger.

Clyde’s unbucklin’ his belt quick as can be, chest heavin’ as he reaches for the door handle. He’s ‘bout ready to stomp to the car and yank the man out.Teach ‘im a lesson on manners, teach ‘im t’treat a lady like—

“Clyde.” Juniper stops him in his tracks with just his name on her lips. He looks over at her from under his hair, expression tense. She reaches up to caress his cheek, holdin’ his face in her little palm so sweetly, thumb brushin’ over the sharp line of his jaw. “Leave him be. It’s not worth gettin’ into trouble.”

Clyde deflates, honey brown eyes downcast. He sounds miserable when he speaks. “… We’re gonna miss dinner.”

“I know, sugar. It’s okay.”

His heart flutters in his broad chest despite his distress. She’d called him ‘sugar.’ He likes that; wants to hear it again real soon.

By the time they get through all the traffic and make it to the restaurant, their reservation is indeed gone, table havin’ been given away. They stand together just outside the building, under the little awning in an attempt to stay out of the rain.

Clyde huffs, so morose that he’s unable to enjoy the way she was pressed up against his side. “M’sorry.”

Juniper frowns, reachin’ up to pat his stomach gently. “You stop that. You haven’t done anything to be sorry for.”

Clyde shakes his head sadly, heavin’ out a sigh. “It’s the Logan Family Curse.”

She looks up at him, brows arched, her hand still settled on his belly. “Oh is it now?”

He nods, brows pinched together. Juniper reaches for his hand, pulling it to her lips and pressin’ a kiss to his knuckles. “You aren’t cursed, Clyde Logan. And if you are, I’m perfectly happy to be cursed right along with you.”

Clyde doesn’ quite know how to respond to that, but luckily, he doesn’t have to right away. Juniper moves her lips to the pads of his large fingers, kissin’ ‘em gently before lettin’ him pull his hand away. Clyde cradles her pretty face in his palm, takin’ the time to admire her. Finally, he speaks. “Thank you, darlin’. That’s mighty nice of you t’say.”

Juniper nuzzles into his touch, sighin’ happily; it makes Clyde feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“I’m only saying what’s true. Now c’mon. I know it’s a Friday night but there’s bound to be somewhere we can eat.”

They end up findin’ an old fashioned drive-in burger place, somewhere they can park and eat in the car out of the rain. It’s not where Clyde wants to take her; she deserves to be wined and dined all proper, not greasy burgers and milkshakes. But Juniper doesn’ seem to mind; as soon as they’re parked she’s squintin’ up at the menu, a big smile on her face.

“This all sounds so fucking good.” She giggles, lookin’ over at him. It makes the disappointment in Clyde’s chest fade away, and he leans over the center console to peer out the window to see what choices they were offered. It puts him in her space, and Juniper leans in to press a gentle kiss to his temple. He blushes, his cheeks only getttin’ hotter when she brushes some of his hair out of his face. He desperately wants to kiss her but he doesn’ know if it’s the right time.

He’s finally acceptin’ the night’s change of plans—finally acceptin’ that this might be good, burgers and fries while dressed up nice, watchin’ the rain pour from the safety of Juniper’s little Corolla—when the carhop comes out to tend to them. Clyde’s already diggin’ into his wallet as Juniper rattles off their order; he holds his debit card out, arm reachin’ over Juniper’s lap.

The carhop doesn’ move for the card. Instead, they say “Card machine’s down. Cash only.” in what Clyde thinks is possibly the most bored tone they could muster. He tries not to bristle as he fumbles with his wallet for a second time, patience already worn thin from the night’s events. He’s only got a fifty in his billfold. The fifty.

Their fifty.

He hesitates, even though he knows it’s irrational; Jimmy always did tell him he was too damn sentimental for his own good. Juniper must realize—she always does, Clyde never seems to have to explain himself to her—because she grabs her purse from the floorboard. Clyde stops her, shakin’ his head as he tugs the fifty dollar bill out. “S’alright, darlin’. Y’told me t’save it for a rainy day.”

Juniper’s face softens at his words, and Clyde hands the money over to the carhop, who looks like they want to be literally anywhere else. Soon Clyde’s been given his change, and he quickly puts it back up. As soon as he’s done Juniper’s reachin’ for him, pullin’ him in by his collar. Clyde goes willingly, twistin’ in his seat to move his prosthetic to the middle of her back, arm wrapped around her.

“I’ll give you another one.” She tells him firmly, and Clyde huffs out a laugh.

“Well that’d be awful silly of ya, Junebug. You’ll run outta money real quick if y’keep givin’ it all t’me.” He tries to soothe her with a joke, wantin’ to let her know that it was alright. Sure, it had been special to him—reminded him of their meetin’—but it was just a piece a’ paper. What was a piece a’ paper when he had the most important thing right here in front a’ him?

He wants to curl up further into her, but their positions don’t allow for it—the vehicle doesn’ exactly allow for him to move his long limbs much a’ anywhere. If this was as close as he could get, he was satisfied. Juniper shifts suddenly, eyes trained on him as she leans closer. They share a breath, then two, and then she’s pressin’ her mouth against his.

It’s nothin’ if not chaste. Clyde gets the feelin’ she doesn’ exactly want to neck in the front seat of her car like teenagers—at least not in plain view of the drive-in’s staff and other patrons. Just a gentle kiss, a little more than a peck; firm and lingerin’ just enough that he knows it happened. Juniper follows it up with another one at the corner of mouth, their noses pressin’ against one another’s cheeks.

It’s more than enough for Clyde; more than enough to get his pulse to sky rocket. He can’t remember the last time he’s been treated so gently, so much love in such a small movement. She gives him a smile when she pulls away, and they both sit back in their seats, starin’ all heart-eyed at one another. She takes the metal of his hand in hers, holdin’ it, and Clyde thinks maybe he should reconsider the whole curse thing.

They head back home after finishin’ their meal, the storm slowly peterin’ off as they get closer to Clyde’s trailer. Juniper walks him to his door, gigglin’ when she offers him her arm to escort him. He takes it, grinnin’ like a fool as they stomp up the front steps. They stand there under the yellow porch light, humid heat surroundin’ ‘em. Clyde usually hated the humidity, but not when it was like this, creatin’ such a hazy, intimate bubble around ‘em. Juniper drops her arm, but only to reach for Clyde’s flesh hand, holdin’ it in both of hers.

“I had a really nice time tonight, Clyde. Best date I’ve ever been on—and I mean that.”

Clyde can feel himself blushin’, a pleased smile turnin’ his lips up. “I had a good time, too. Wouldja—wouldja wanna do it again? Sometime soon?”

“Yes.” She answers almost before he can finish askin’, and they both laugh. There’s a beat, a pause, a breath, and then Juniper is leanin’ up the same moment Clyde’s leanin’ down. It’s a relief when their lips touch, like the first drink a’ water in the mornin’. Clyde thinks he’s been parched his whole life and never even knew it.

Juniper’s the one who deepens it, the one who drops his hand to lean into him, to thread her fingers through his thick hair, holdin’ him close. And fuck, Clyde isn’ gonna fight it. He wraps his arm around her, prosthetic against her back as his hand moves to hold her face. His palm envelops her cheek, thumb under her chin to keep her head lifted. They kiss and kiss, and when she makes a little whine in the back of her throat Clyde swears he’s floatin’.

When she pulls away to breathe he makes a sound of his own, a disappointed little groan that she huffs out a laugh at. He’d be embarrassed if she wasn’ nuzzlin’ her nose against his cheek like she can’t get enough.

“Those lips a’ yours aren’t fair.” She murmurs, and Clyde hums, strokin’ his thumb along her jawline. He doesn’ want this to end, he thinks for possibly the thousandth time that night. He doesn’ wanna let her get back in her car an’ drive across town, over the train tracks, past the antique shop, until she gets to the bed & breakfast.

He wants her right here, and he’s never been the one in this position, but he doesn’ hesitate when he asks her, “D’y’wanna come in?”

She nods, and it sets his chest aflame. They straighten up, untanglin’ themselves from one another even as she leans into his side, not wantin’ t’be too far. Clyde’s hands shake as he unlocks the front door but he doesn’ care if she sees. He wants her to see, wants her to know what she’s doin’ t’him. Maybe then...maybe she won’t leave.

Clyde flicks on the lights, closin’ the door behind both of ‘em. He watches as Juniper assesses his things: his clumsily cleaned living area, the small kitchenette that was (thankfully) decluttered. The hallway leads back to the bathroom, and then his bedroom, but Clyde doesn’ dare look towards it, much less lead her that way. Instead, he steps towards the fridge, hand reachin’ out to brush against the door.

“Want anythin’ t’drink?” He asks, voice quiet, as if nervous to disturb the silence. Juniper shoots him a smile, shakin’ her head as she perches on the couch.

“No, I’m okay, thank you.”

Clyde nods, lingerin’ there even though he doesn’ want a drink neither. Her eyes look him over, amusement showin’ in them.

“Why don’t you c’mere? If you want, of course.”

He wants. Oh, how he wants. So he goes, movin’ across the distance between them in three long strides until he can sit himself next to her. He’s stock straight, heart thrummin’ in his chest; his nice button-down feels all tight against his skin, too itchy. He thinks only her touch’ll soothe it, but doesn’ wanna ask her. Juniper, however, reads his mind; she always can. She smoothes a hand over his jean-clad thigh, leanin’ in ever so slowly, like she’s gonna startle him if she moves too fast. Clyde’s breath catches in his throat as she kisses him again, and it's heaven, it's heaven.

It’s different from in the car, from on the porch. This time there’s more purpose to it. Juniper’s kissin’ him—tastin’ him— like he belongs to her, and Clyde thinks maybe it's because she knows he does. He’s tryna’ angle his body just right, tryin’ t’lean down without puttin’ a crick in his neck. Not that he’d care much, if he did--a crick was worth this, worth the feelin’ of her tongue brushin’ against his bottom lip, against his teeth.

Juniper makes a frustrated little noise, pullin’ back, and Clyde’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Wha--Wha’s--?” He stammers out, flesh hand flexin’ on her waist, the silky fabric of her dress feelin’ so soft and cool against his skin. Juniper’s lips are plush and kiss bitten; Clyde tries to take a picture of ‘em in his memory, eyes trained on their pretty color. He almost misses her question. Scratch that, he does miss her question; has to very ineloquently say “huh?” to get her to repeat it. She ducks her head, voice shy.

“Can I, uh--get in your lap?”

Shit. Shit. Clyde nearly feels dizzy for all the blood rushin’ down south. It makes him a little self-conscious; she’s not gonna want t’sit on his lap and have his cock pressin’ into her all demandin’ like. But damn, his little Junebug looks so eager, her eyes darker than he’s ever seen ‘em, and like he’d said: he wants. So he just nods, barely breathin’.

Juniper shifts, pushin’ him into the back of the couch and he goes easily, willingly. She hikes her dress up her legs and Clyde gets a barely there peek of dark green lace before she’s straddlin’ his lap. He moans, can’t fuckin’ help it, and Juniper dives in to capture the sound with her mouth. Her hands are on his face, in his hair, fingers rubbin’ the shells of his ears—he’s surrounded, he’s drownin’, suffocatin’. He’s never felt so alive.

His own hands are placed chastely on either one of her hips, though he knows his flesh hand must be grippin’ her somethin’ fierce. The thought flashes in his mind, of him leavin’ little fingerprint shaped bruises on her skin for her to feel the next day. It makes him shiver underneath her.

Juniper takes and takes, and Clyde lets her. Clyde wants to be taken, in whatever way she’ll have him. Suddenly she’s pullin’ away just enough to suck in a little air, lips still brushin’ against his. He presses his long nose into the soft skin of her cheek, breath hot between them. When Juniper speaks, her voice is strained.

“Touch me, Clyde. Please.”

He doesn’ hesitate. His good hand moves from her hip to her ass, grabbin’, kneadin’ as he pulls her tighter against him. She lets out the prettiest noise Clyde thinks he’s ever heard, and his lips find her neck as his other arm comes around to hold her close. God, she tastes so good; her perfume fills his head until he feels dizzy with it.

She's pressed flush to him like this, grindin’ her hips against his. Clyde’s hard and leakin’ in his brand new jeans and the only thing he can think of is hearin’ her little noises again. Her hands are back in his hair, pullin’ at it, sweepin’ it away from his face so he doesn’ get tangled in it as his mouth makes a hot path down the neckline of her dress.

It feels so damn good that Clyde doesn’ realize she’s tryin’ to get his attention until she yanks on his tresses, his scalp burnin’ from it. Honestly he thinks he groans, rough and wild in his throat, the pain shootin’ straight to his cock. But it makes him look at her, and she holds him from divin’ back into her skin.

“Clyde I wanna—I wanna taste you. Is that okay? Can I?”

Lord Almighty above. That should be his line, it really should. But how can he argue with her? He’d give her anythin’ she wanted, anythin’. And she wanted—wanted to put her mouth on him. Clyde spares a thought for all the trimmed and proper men he’s seen in porn, how much nicer they looked, how Juniper deserved the best. West coast mean surely didn’ look the way he did. But then,“Yes,” he’s sayin’, voice ragged, “yes.”

And she’s slippin’ out of his lap onto the floor between his legs. Clyde’s heart pinches, and he leans forward to pick her right back up. To say “oh, darlin’, y’don’ need to be on the hard floor like that. Lemme stand an’ you c’n sit right back on these here pillows.” But before he can get his legs under him she's pressin’ her face between ‘em, nuzzlin’ into the scratchy fabric of his jeans, right up against his cock. Clyde’s brain short circuits.

“Been wantin’ this.” Juniper murmurs, small hands workin’ at his belt, and Clyde arches his hips up, tryin’ t’help her get his jeans off. He can’t believe this—can’t believe this is happenin’. She tugs his jeans and pants down his legs, just enough that his cock is revealed. Clyde clumsily unbuttons the first couple buttons at the bottom of his shirt, not wantin’ to get the new fabric messy. Juniper seems to like his idea; she sighs and leans forward to press her lips to the bare skin of his stomach.

“Sweetheart.” Clyde whispers, voice all trembly. He stretches out a little, givin’ her more access to his pale abdomen. Her lips are so soft against his skin, against the dark trail of hair leadin’ down, down, down. She follows it, nosin’ to the crook of his thigh, teeth scrapin’ deliciously ‘fore she turns her attention to his cock—already plump and stiff, and very interested in her ministrations. She wraps a hand around it and Clyde’s breath catches in his throat. She studies his cock, gives it a gentle stroke, thumb rubbin’ at the velvety head.

“You’re so big.” Her voice is quiet, but it startles Clyde all the same—he’s been transfixed by the vision in front of him.

“O-Oh, I-m, uh—“

He’s attemptin’ to apologize—his first instinct, really. But his brain isn’t really functionin’ all that well, and then she’s leanin’ in to lave her tongue over his slit. Clyde groans, a sound comin’ deep from his chest as he zeros in on the pretty pink of her soft, wet tongue. Juniper hums as if she’s pleased, a little smile on her face, and then she’s slippin’ her mouth over his cock in earnest.

Clyde’s head drops back against the couch pillow, lungs strugglin’ to suck in air. Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck—it felt so good. She was gorgeous, she was perfect, she was a fucking angel doin’ this for him. She couldn’ take all of him into her mouth but goddamn she was tryin’. It didn’ matter—even if she wasn’ usin’ her hand to make up the difference, Clyde thinks he could cum just from seein’ her there between his legs, her silky soft lips on his skin.

He moves with her—not in a way where he’s pushin’ her or askin’ for more, but in a way where she’s pullin’ him; she’s the ebb and flow of the tide and he follows her willingly. His back arches, toes curlin’ up in his boots; his prosthetic settles on top of her free hand where it was grippin’ one of his large thighs. His other hand is too busy grippin’ the couch cushions to do much else. He’s lost to it—to her—an’ he doesn’ wanna be found.

It’s over far too quickly, embarrassingly so—it even surprises him. He’s ridin’ the high of his pleasure and his orgasm hits him so hard and fast that Clyde barely has any time t’warn her. All he can do is make a frantic noise, her name garbled in his throat as he quickly tries to push her off a’ him. But it’s too late—he’s cummin’ the same time that she’s pullin’ away, and Clyde can only watch in an odd mix of both arousal and horror as his cum paints her chin, neck, and cleavage.

Juniper’s mouth is held open in a surprised little ‘o’ shape, brows arched, and Clyde feels fuckin’ humiliated.

“J-Juniper, darlin’, m’so sorry, I—“ He scrabbles behind him for the throw blanket layin’ across the back of the couch, tuggin’ it into his lap so he can clean his mess off a’ her skin. He’s quick to tend to the spend on her cleavage first, hyperaware of how close it was to the fabric of her pretty black dress. “I’m sorry, I tried t’warn ya but it was too—“

“Clyde, it’s okay.” Her voice is all raspy and Clyde bites back a moan at the sound of it. She was so fuckin’ sexy, fuckin’ flawless. He’d cum all over her, messy and wild, and she was still lookin’ at him like he’d hung the damn moon. She pulls herself to standin’, and Clyde’s gaze dips down to where her knees were all red from kneelin’. Just another thing he didn’ know he found hot until now.

“But I guess it’s a little dangerous to keep this on, huh?”

His gaze snaps up to her face when she speaks, and she’s wearin’ a grin, eyes alight. Then she’s twistin’ her arms around, wrigglin’ out of that cute little dress until it graces the linoleum floor. She bends down to pick it up, drapin’ it carefully over one of the kitchen chairs. She moves like it’s nothin; like the sight of her in her heels and underwear ain’ makin’ his cock try to thicken up again.

“Yer so beautiful.” He tells her, gaze trained on her as she walks back over to him. Clyde feels so small with her standin’ in front of him; feels vulnerable even if he was still mostly dressed. Juniper steps out of her heels slowly, placin’ them to the side before leanin’ in, restin’ her hands on the back of the couch on either side of his head so she can kiss him.

Clyde runs his flesh hand over her bare waist, down the swell of her hip, toyin’ with the band of her underwear. He doesn’t push it down; he won’t without her permission. It’s enough to kiss her like this, soft and lazy, feelin’ her skin underneath his. He feels all gooey and happy from his orgasm, even if it had come sooner than he’d have liked.

He sighs into her mouth, content; chases her lips when she pulls away. Juniper starts to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he sits up to help her ease it off a’ his shoulders. She folds it neatly, settin’ it to the side; Clyde forces himself to speak, tryin’ to get his brain back in workin’ order. “D’y’wanna—wanna go back to the bedroom? You c’n lay down and I’ll—I’ll take care a’ ya.”

He thinks he sounds all awkward and silly, but Juniper gives him a warm smile, and his insecurities fade. She was always comfortin’ him, whether she knew it or not. She places one last lingerin’ kiss to his lips before noddin’ at him. “I’d like that.”

______________________________________________________________

taglist friends!

@paper-n-ashes @glassbxttless @mariesackler @leatherboundbirate @millenialcatlady @jynzandtonic @peachyproserpina

[ningningsdream]

keep it low | mk.l

pairing: music student!mark x music student!fem reader

genre: fluff, angst, roommates-to-lovers

word count: 6.5k

warning(s): swearing, maybe a little suggestive (mention of making out and implicit allusion to sex but no smut)

description: in which you didn’t expect to also be a love counselor when you moved in with your new roommate.

a/n: this is apart of my new series of roommates-to-lovers with the dreamies, sweet life

main masterlist

when you were younger, you’ve always expected to stick with your best friends after highschool, having the best uni experience together, being roommates and all but you never expected almost all of them to either go study abroad or in a university far away from yours. you went to Seoul Music University, a prestigious school you had the chance to attend thanks to your good grades and the entrance interview you nailed a few months before receiving your acceptance letter. the only ‘bad thing’ about being accepted at SMU was that you lived really far away from Seoul but one of your friends who knew people at SMU told you that there was this building known to house a lot of students from the university. even though the building wasn’t linked to the school, it was treated as if it was part of it since most of the person living in that building went to SMU because it was literally five minutes away from the university.

you asked your friend to ask her friends at SMU if they knew anyone who needed a roommate and that was how you ended up with mark lee’s number.

you: hey, is this mark?

possible future roommate: uhm yes? who is this?

you: im y/n, my friend gave me your number because your friends said you were looking for a roommate? and im actually looking for a place to live

possible future roommate: oh right!

possible future roommate: do you want to come see the place tomorrow?

you: mmh yeah that would be great

possible future roommate: great, just text me when you’re downstairs, i’ll come and get you

you: you’re not a creepy dude that’s going to kill me right?

possible future roommate: no

possible future roommate: even if i was, i wouldn’t admit it

you: really reassuring 😭

the first time you met mark, let’s just say that you didn’t expect him to look like that. you didn’t know what you were expecting but surely not a cute guy with glasses and a dorky smile. as for mark, he almost fell on the floor when he first saw you -literally, his feet somehow got tangled-, he was nervous about the possible idea of having a girl as a roommate. to end the awkward silence he asked you questions about yourself which you returned.

mark learned that you were starting your first year at SMU, that you were going to study musical analysis and songwriting and that you needed a place to stay because your hometown was far away whereas you learned that mark was already in his second year at SMU making him one year older than you, that he was studying musical composition and sounds aesthetics and that his ex-roommate moved out to move in with his girlfriend.

mark gave you a little apartment tour which was surprisingly pretty neat. it was a lot bigger and more luminous than you expected. the room that was supposed to be yours was simple yet cozy. mark told you everything you needed to know about the rent, the neighbors, etc. and you agreed to be his roommate.

living with mark was pretty simple at first. you two didn’t really get out of your rooms so you wouldn’t interact often, just short greetings when you bumped into each other in the hallway or the kitchen. but the peaceful atmosphere changed when uni started. you two saw each other even less than before, having different majors and different schedules but you sure were hearing him more.

well not him, his music.

it was pretty soft at first, you could barely hear it but as weeks passed by, the volume became louder and louder. you would sometimes go to his door, knocking on it with an annoyed expression on your face but every time he would open the door with this apologetic face, looking at you like a stray puppy with his doe eyes while apologizing for the noise, promising to turn it down, you couldn’t be mad at him, not with that face.

every morning for the past month, you needed a cup of coffee - even though you hated coffee - to stay awake all day long.

“why are you so sleepy again?”, lia, the only friend that followed you throughout your entire life, asked you as she saw your half-open eyelids.

“my roommate stayed up so late, blasting his music through the speakers in his room. i’m still surprised we didn’t have any complaints yet.”, you said, before putting a hand on your mouth to yawn.

“tell him to turn it down.”

“already tried but it seems like he instinctively turns it back up gradually.”

“then tell him to shut his freaking music off so you could get some beauty sleep.”

“can’t.”

“why?”

“because he always looks at me so apologetically that i can’t get angry.”

“girl, you have a crush on him or something?”

“nah, he just has that kind of face, you know?”

one night, apart from the beats and music coming from mark’s room, you also heard his voice, stopping mid-sentence every time to see if the lyrics were good. this time the song was a lot slower and softer than the usual stuff he would do so instead of keeping you awake, it kind of lull you to sleep. the next morning, you felt refreshed and more energetic as you had your eight hours of sleep.

“you looked better today girl! what happened?”, lia asked enthusiastically as you sat down next to her.

“finally got a good night of sleep.”

during your classes, from time to time, your brain would hum what you identified as mark’s song from last night, lyrics popping here and there in your brain, a mix of the one you heard from him and new ones you just made up. you wrote them down on a random piece of paper as they seemed to be stuck in your brain.

later that day, you were sitting on your bed while going through the list of first years in the composition class to find a partner for this project you have to do for your writing class. every year, students from these two classes would collaborate to create a song and it was supposed to represent 35% of your semester’s grade so it was pretty important. to choose a partner, your professors had made this list thing where they put the students’ music profiles next to their name so that everyone can collaborate with someone that had the same interests musically. the few students you managed to pick already had a partner and the process of selecting other students was already tiring you.

as you were about to dive in the list again you heard mark’s voice starting to sing the same song that lulled you to sleep. you could clearly hear the hesitation in his voice as the lyrics came out. your eyes wandered to the stacks on notebooks on your desk in which was the piece of paper you wrote lyrics to his song on and you thought about it for a moment. should you give him the lyrics you wrote or should you just let him do his thing? after all, he never meant to share the song with you.

after a hot minute of thinking, you stood up and went to your desk, taking the piece of paper out of one of your notebooks and headed to mark’s room.

when he heard the knock on his door, mark thought he knew what you wanted to tell him. he thought it was the usual 'can you turn it down?’ question so he opened the door and went, “i’m sorr-”, but you interrupted him by giving him the paper with the lyrics on it before going back to your room without saying anything. mark stood there with a frown on his face, trying to understand what just happened. he looked at the piece of paper you just gave him and recognized some of his lyrics along with unknown ones. he started to sing it in his head as he closed the door walking to his desk and decided to give it a try with the music.

you sat on your bed, waiting impatiently for his next move. a few seconds later, you heard mark singing the lyrics you gave him to his instrumental and found yourself smiling at how good it was. satisfied with how smooth the song sounded now without mark interrupting himself every second, trying to find better words, you were about to dive right back in that list of students, determined to find a partner when your roommate barged into your room.

“sure mark, come in.”, you said, sarcastically rolling your eyes.

“sorry…”, he quickly apologized, rubbing the back of his neck, “the lyrics you gave me, how-”

“i can hear everything coming from your room mark, the lyrics just popped in my head this morning as your song was stuck in my brain.”

“it’s- it’s really good. the lyrics.”

“well thanks. i am studying that after all.”

“i- uhm…are you busy right now?”, he asked, his shyness taking over his body.

“oh uhm i have to find a partner for that composition-songwriting project.”, you sighed before turning your attention back to the list.

mark nodded a little bit disappointed. he wanted to ask you if you wanted to maybe, possibly help him with his song but since you were busy with that project- wait, he too had the same project to do.

“do you want to do it with me?”, mark’s voice suddenly surprised you as you thought he already left.

“what?”, you asked because you didn’t really hear his question as your focus was on your laptop.

“the project. want to do it together?”, he asked, full of hope.

“aren’t we supposed to do it with someone from our year?”

“i’ll ask mr.kim if i can do it with you, only if you want to though.”, he said, rubbing the back of his neck. you nodded with a smile. now, you could stop going through that hell of a list. after receiving a positive answer from your professors, you and mark started to work on your song.

at first, you thought that the two of you would just work on the project, you didn’t expect to actually get to know your roommate more. you spent the last few nights in mark’s bedroom, working on your song while having some extra fun because your roommate was unexpectedly a bigger dork than you thought.

“how about we change these lyrics to those?”, you suggested, showing mark the two sentences.

the song you were making was supposed to be a sad and heartbreaking one and you wanted the lyrics to hit deep in people’s soul.

“damn girl, who hurt you?”, mark’s question made you smile, satisfied with his reaction.

you yawned a few minutes later, falling onto mark’s bed while stretching, “i’m just going to rest my eyes for five minutes. if i fall asleep, wake me up.”

you opened your eyes and it was the next morning, you panicked for a moment before remembering that it was sunday and that you didn’t have any classes to attend. you rubbed your eyes and looked around the room but saw no trace of mark. you heard some rustling in the kitchen so you walked out of mark’s room, stopping by the bathroom before joining your roommate in the kitchen.

“why didn’t you wake me up?”

“you were so cute, i didn’t want to wake you up.”, your ears perked up at the compliment while mark was trying to correct himself out of embarrassment, “i-i-i mean peaceful, yeah peaceful, you looked peaceful. anyway, breakfast?”

you smiled at how dorky he was, realizing what you’ve been missing out on during the first part of your semester.

“what’s for breakfast?”

“i tried to make eggs but they didn’t turn out great…gordon ramsay would be ashamed.”, mark said, rubbing the back of his neck with a little embarrassed smile.

“it can’t be worse than your curry that smelled like burned chicken.”, you commented, thinking about the time your roommate said he would try and cook something new but it turned out real bad and you just ended up ordering jajangmyeon.

“it wasn’t that bad.”, he corrected softly, earning a look from you which made him admit the disaster that was his attempt at cooking.

“oh by the way, where did you sleep?”

“on the couch.”

“that must have been so uncomfortable, you don’t even fit on the couch! you could’ve just lied beside me, it’s no big deal.”

“i’m a sleep cuddler, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“i wouldn’t have minded the cuddling.”, you jokingly shrugged as mark felt his ears becoming redder and redder. you took a bite of his eggs and frowned a bit, “they are surprisingly okay.”

the more time you spent with mark, the more you learned to love these little things about him, like how he would get excited and laugh his heart out while clapping hard or kicking his legs or how he played his music a little too loud at night because 1. you were now in the room with him and not trying to sleep and 2. you admired how dedicated he was to his music. even if you still asked him to keep it low when you went back to your room, you would always smile when you heard his music increasing slowly.

mark would also slowly get more comfortable around you, letting his weird but cute little quirks come out more often like now when you two go grocery shopping together he didn’t have to hide his excitement every time he saw watermelons.

“you wanna grab dinner tonight?”, lia aked you as you sat next to her in class.

“sorry, i can’t tonight. mark and i are staying late to record our song for the project.”, you said with a little pout.

“oh so you and mark huh? you’ve become quite close.”, lia wiggled her eyebrows at you, subtly hinting at something.

“well yeah, he’s my roommate after all.”, you simply reply, ignoring her teasing.

“you were still calling him 'your roommate’ a few months ago, i didn’t even know his name was mark.”, lia deadpanned.

“i just need time to get to know people.”

“i’m sure you two will really get to know each other in that dark studio all alone.”

“one, nothing is going to happen and two, we’re not going to be alone, mark asked his friend to sing the demo so we’re not going to be alone.”

“mmmh i still ship it though.”, your friend smirked before turning back to writing her notes.

after your last class of the day, you went back to your apartment to take a shower and chill a little, waiting for mark’s 6pm class to end.

sucky cook 🍳: my class ends in 15 minutes, meet me in front of the room?

you grabbed your bag, put your shoes on, and made your way to mark’s classroom on the composition side of the campus. you took a peek into each classroom to see if mark was in there -thanks to the little window on the door. when you finally spotted him, you waited patiently for five minutes before the door opened, startling you.

“it’s me.”, the familiar laugh made you frown and hit the arm of the person it belonged to.

“marrrk, you scared me! you could’ve opened the door softer goddamnit!”, you complained as you two walked to the studios’ area.

“oh come on, you scaredy-cat.”, he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and messing your freshly dried hair up.

after you two stopped by the studio reservation office to grabbed the key card of the studio you two reserved for that day, you entered the little dark studio and started to prepare the tracks and everything.

mark’s friend, donghyuck, arrived a few minutes later and introduced himself to you. you discovered that donghyuck was your age and that he wasn’t really a singer or anything, mark just liked the tone of his voice which you agree with. you three were so concentrated on the recording that you didn’t even notice how many hours had passed by until your stomach growled.

“oh wow it’s 8pm already. we should take a break and get something to eat.”, you said after looking at the time on your phone.

“don’t worry, i already took care of that. i texted my roommate to bring us some food.”, donghyuck said.

“oh by the way, your voice is really nice. have you considered being a singer professionally?”, you asked him while you three waited for donghyuck’s roommate.

“no, not really. i didn’t really know that i knew how to sing until mark made a comment about it.”

“you should really consider the option though. i’ve never heard a voice like yours, it’s really unique and recognizable. honestly, you could make it as a singer.”

“it’s not that special…”, mark quietly said, hiding the sulkiness in his voice.

donghyuck eyed mark as the two of you started to argue -not really- on donghyuck’s voice with you being almost more offended at mark’s comment than the one it was about. the younger boy’s eyes went back and forth between the two of you as he would slowly start to realize something.

mark was the first one to tell him that his voice was great and was always the one who praised the uniqueness of his tone so why the sudden change?

was mark lee…jealous?

donghyuck was trying to hide his smile at the thought of a jealous mark lee when you all heard a knock on the door. donghyuck opened it, being the closest one to the door and revealing a short girl behind it, holding bags of food.

“you’re lucky i owe you big time.”, his roommate said, handing him two bags that donghyuck hurriedly took.

“you kids enjoy this.”, he said, putting one of them on the mini table, and then he turned back to his roommate, pushing her outside the studio, “we have to be somewhere.”

before his roommate could even protest, donghyuck had already closed the door, leaving mark and you alone with a lot of questions going through your head.

you two started to eat while talking about your lives, “so how did you meet donghyuck?”

“oh he knew one of my friends, johnny, and we met at a party of his. i thought he was a brat at first.”, mark replied, earning a laugh from you.

“what about now?”

“he’s still a brat…but he’s also one of my closest friends. i-”, mark was interrupted by his phone ringing but when he checked who was calling him, you could see the hesitation in his eyes before he declined it, “sorry, i’m going to put it on mute.”

after mark’s little story about donghyuck puking on his shoes once when he was drunk, not because on the alcohol but just because he wanted to, you two went back to your songs.

“maybe right there we can enhance the-”, mark stopped again in the middle of his sentence to look at the caller id on his phone for what seemed like the hundredth time to you.

along with the calls he has also received some messages which you didn’t read because you respected his private life and at that moment, it was maybe because of your tiredness or just the annoyance of that caller that didn’t seem to understand that mark was busy but you said, “you can answer it if you want.”

“nah, it’s okay. i don’t want to talk to that person.”, mark replied, giving you a sad little smile which you wondered the meaning behind it.

mark continued his explanation and you started exchanging ideas when the caller id appeared, again.

enough was enough for you.

you took mark’s phone and answered the call, “hello, can you stop calling please? we’ll really appreciate it, thank you.”, you didn’t even wait for the caller’s response and immediately hung up.

a sudden feeling of guilt took over you as you realized you’ve just invaded his private life. you shouldn’t have answered that call for him.

without even noticing it you started to ramble, “i-i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that. i overstepped-”

“it’s alright, it’s alright. if anything i have to thank you.”, mark reassured you even though you still felt a little bad about the situation.

after you answered that call, the person stopped bothering mark and you managed to finish your song that night. you felt so relieved after that, you had more time to rest and more time to hang out with lia, it felt like forever since the two of you hung out.

“so tell me everything about you and mark? how is it going?”, lia asked, dropping the delivery food you two ordered on her coffee table.

you and lia decided to have a movie night but it was more of a 'catch-me-up-on-everything-happening-in-your-life’ night while you were both eating fried chicken.

“i already told you! there’s nothing between mark and me.”

“you sure of that? nothing happened? at all? not even a tiny teeny thing?”

“well…”

“i knew it! tell me everything!”

“it’s nothing, really, nothing at all. there was just that one time, we were taking a break from the song for our project and i spotted the guitar in the corner of his room so i asked him if he knew how to play. he said yes and you know me i always talk about my life so i told him that i’ve always wanted to learn how to play the guitar. then he handed it to me and told me it was easy, he started to teach me the basic notes and everything, it even came to a point where his arms were around me because he was putting my fingers in the right places and when i turned to look at him, our faces were so close.”, lia let out a little squeal at your story, “but nothing happened!”, you clarified as your friend’s expression changed from excited to disappointed.

“why not?!”

“because- because we’re roommates!”

“so what?”

“it will be awkward if we broke up. i’m really not ready to find another roommate.”, you explained.

“but what if you’re missing on something?”, your friend argued, not wanting you to regret anything.

“i’ve never been really lucky in that area of my life…”, you stated, reminiscing your past relationship.

“you know it’s been a long time right? you have the right to try with someone new.”, lia reassured you, knowing exactly where your mind was going.

“i know but we were so good together, i don’t know if i can ever find someone like him.”

“y/n, sweetie, you’re not supposed to find someone like him. just find someone who can make you as happy as he did if not even happier.”

“i have you, that’s enough.”, you said, wrapping your arms around lia.

“my girlfriend would not agree with that.”, lia replied with a chuckle.

“why not? we could be the hottest throuple.”, you retorted jokingly.

“never suggest that to my girlfriend, she might accept.”, lia said, making the both of you laugh.

before it got too late, you left lia’s apartment to go back to yours. luckily, her building was just a couple of minutes away from yours, so it didn’t take you long to come back to your dorm. when the elevator’s doors opened, you got out and walked to your door while texting lia that you got home safely but when you looked up, you saw mark and another girl kissing in front of your shared apartment’s door. you froze for a moment as your eyes widened, your phone slipped out of your hands and fell to the ground, causing a big and loud noise to erupt, making the couple stop in their heated action.

“i-i-”, you stuttered, picking your phone up from the ground, “i am so sorry. i-i’m going to go…uhm…you guys…continue what you were doing-”

“no, please stay. she was going to leave.”, mark said, without an ounce of emotion in his voice but his eyes were begging you.

the girl eyed you then mark and left without saying a word. mark walked back into your apartment, letting the door open for you to enter. you closed the door and removed your shoes before turning around ready to apologize again but when you did so, mark had already disappeared into his room. you sighed and made your way to your own room. you changed into your pajamas and lied in your bed. you tossed and turned for what seemed like an hour, failing to fall asleep. the previous scene seemed to be stuck in your head, you felt incredibly embarrassed, not only because you interrupted mark and that girl you’ve never seen before but also by the fact that maybe you were starting to develop a tiny crush on your roommate.

after some more tossing and turning, you decided to get up and made your way to mark’s room.

maybe apologizing to him will make you feel more at ease about the whole situation.

you knocked on the door, fiddling with your fingers while waiting for mark to open it.

as you heard the door open, the words immediately came out of you, “i am honestly so sorry about what happened earlier, i know i already apologized but i feel like-”, you looked up to see mark’s bloodshot eyes, sadly staring at you, “are you okay?”, your roommate just sniffed in response which you took as a no. your expression softened at how he looked…lost and conflicted.

“do you think i should get back with my ex?”, mark opened his mouth to ask and his voice sounded so fragile.

“okay…we definitely need to have a conversation.”, you said, putting your hands on his shoulders and turned him around, pushing him into his room. you closed the door behind the two of you and sat down on his bed. you grabbed one of his pillows and hugged it while making yourself comfortable, “now tell me what’s up.”

mark sighed and sat next to you, “the girl you saw earlier is my ex-girlfriend.”

“well if you’ve been smooching her like that then yeah you should get back together. seems like you still have feelings.”, you said, even though you may had a crush on him, you were mature enough to put your feelings aside and answer honestly.

“she cheated on me.”

your eyes widened and you quickly corrected yourself, “then don’t get back with her. never. EVER.”

“but-”

“no but! she cheated on you once, if you forgive her now, she’ll think she can get away with it again because you forgave her the first time.”

mark sighed and looked down, his phone vibrated next to him on his bed, “it’s her.”

“don’t answer! give me your phone!”

“no!”

“mark!”, you almost jumped to reach for his phone and your body was literally crushing his. you grabbed his phone and turned towards him saying, “if she didn’t appreciate you enough the first time, she doesn’t get to have a second chance. please don’t let people you love treat you like shit.”

mark suddenly wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly against his own body. you let out a small surprised noise at the unexpected hug but let yourself melt into it anyway, “can we stay like that for a moment?”

“of course.”, you whispered, wrapping your arms around him, rubbing his back.

after that night, you made a mission to help mark get over his ex.

first step was to make mark block his ex’s number. it was tough but after some convincing talk, you managed to persuade him.

second step was to let mark express what he felt about his ex and the whole situation.

“so you want me to write down…my feelings? how am i suppose to do that?”

“just- just write down what you’re feeling. sad, happy, disappointed?”

“are you sure this is going to work?”

“well, you won’t be a 100% okay but you’ll feel better.”

mark sighed and complied. he looked down at the blank piece of paper and scribbled some words. few minutes had passed as mark tried to word his feelings while you were trying to play the guitar - keyword 'trying’.

“i can’t do this!”, you heard mark complain and put his guitar aside to get up and see how he was doing.

“three words? really?”, you asked, looking at the three scribbled words on the piece of paper.

mark stood up and walked to his bed, “i’m not good at expressing myself with words. you’re the songwriting student here!”, the little pout and frown on his face made your heart do that weird little thing.

“okay, fine. let’s do this differently. tell me how you feel in your own way. let’s start with how you felt when you found out about the whole cheating thing.”, you said while looking at the boy falling down on his bed.

“i-i was…angry? sad?”

“angry at her?”

“at myself.”

“why?”

“i-i don’t know- i- feel like it was my fault. maybe if i was like i don’t know, a better boyfriend? i should’ve...saw it coming? change things? like say ‘i love you’ more often?”

“so what you’re saying is that you’re angry at yourself because you think it’s your fault? you think that you could’ve done something to prevent it like being a better boyfriend or telling her you love her more frequently so she wouldn’t have gone to someone else for it?”, you tried to rephrase his messy thoughts into something less messy and more structured.

“wow, you’re good.”, mark said, pretty impressed by how quick your brain worked.

“mark…”, you sat next to him, “you really should stop blaming yourself.”, you put your hand over his, tapping it in comfort, “what stopped you from getting back with her?

"i…don’t…really know? i guess a part of me had doubts because i felt betrayed. you know, it was my friend renjun who told me about it, she didn’t even have the guts to do it.”

“see, this part of you knows that you’re worth more than that. listen to it more often.”, you commented, flicking his forehead, earning a complaint from him, “feel better?”

“better.”, he let out a sigh as his body relaxed after letting out all those feelings he tried to suppress.

third step was to distract mark from thinking about his ex.

you barged into mark’s room screaming, “get your ass prepped because we’re going out tonight!!”

“what are you talking about?”, mark asked, removing his earphones.

“seoul’s music festival!!”, you screamed, holding two tickets up, “lia’s girlfriend knows someone that got us free tickets!!”

“well, enjoy.”, mark replied, putting his earphones back on.

you frowned and walked to him to remove his earphones, “what do you mean? you’re coming with me!”

“nah i’m good.”

“i wasn’t asking. this is step three of the 'getting-over-my-ex’ plan. you need to get out and have fun. i’ve never seen you go out to have fun even once.”

“that’s an exaggeration. i do have fun…sometimes.”

“when was the last time you had 'fun’?”

“i-”, he stopped to think about it for a moment and realized that he didn’t even remember the last time he actually had fun outside with his friends, “fine, i’ll come.”

you two arrived at the festival and you already felt the vibe of the outdoor event. it had a really strong korean coachella feel to it. there was a big stage in the middle of the grass, multiple food trucks selling delicious foods, and lots of people dancing. you grabbed mark’s hand and dragged him to the middle of the crowd of people jamming to the group on stage. you joined in and started to jump up and down while screaming the lyrics to the familiar song. mark smiled while following your actions, enjoying his time with you. you two engaged into a little dancing relay as each of you did a funny weird dance that made the other laugh.

when the two of you got tired, you got away from the stage and the people to buy some delicious food before sitting down on the grass a little away from the festival where you could hear each other talk.

“i’m curious about something.”, mark said, taking a bite of his food.

“hit me.”

“how do you know all these things about getting over someone?”

“well first, the internet exists and second, that’s what lia used on me to make me get over my ex.”

“what happened?”, mark asked curiously, realizing that he didn’t know a thing about your dating life when you know so much about his already.

“well, nothing bad BAD happened, we broke up because he was going to study abroad and i stayed here. i was expecting it so it could’ve affected me worse than it did i guess.”

“do you miss him?”

“sometimes, but then i don’t know if i miss him or what we had and that’s a whole other question.”, you sighed before checking the time, “oh, already?! let’s go check the temporary tattoo area!”

you got up discarding your empty plates in the nearest trashcan and grabbed mark’s hand for you didn’t even how many times tonight. mark didn’t seem to hate it, on the contrary, he quite like the feeling of your small hand in his and he wondered how his fingers would feel intertwined with yours. the answer is perfectly. as he slipped his fingers between yours, you turned to look at him with a confused look on your face that turned into a genuine smile which your roommate returned.

you got a temporary tattoo of a poppy flower in color on the inner side of your forearm and mark got one of a lion on his ankle (something like this but like a lion).

“i can’t believe i got a tattoo. what’s my mom going to think?”, mark said in disbelief as you two walked back to your dorm hand in hand.

“it’s a temporary one, you silly. stop being dramatic.”, you rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“thank you for tonight by the way. it was really fun.”, mark let you entered the apartment first still holding onto your hand as you replied.

“see, you should go out more often. get laid from time to time, one night stands are not that bad. i’m going to change out of this now, goodn-”, as soon as you let go of mark’s hand, your roommate grabbed it again.

“wait!”, mark pulled you back, his other hand instinctively and gently placed itself on your cheek and his lips softly landed on yours.

you were surprised but kissed him back nonetheless. your eyes closed as your whole body enjoyed how mark was making you feel right now. you both pulled away for air and you heard mark ask, “wanna be my one night stand?”

you searched his face for any sign of him kidding but he seemed pretty serious about it, “this is completely physical, right?”

“completely.”, both of you knew that it wasn’t only physical but it’ll suffice for now.

your arms automatically sneaked around his neck and his hands grasped on your hips, bringing your body closer to his as you two engaged into a heated make-out session that turned into more for the rest of the night.

the next morning, the light of the sun coming through the window annoyingly stirring you out of your deep sleep.

can’t a girl just enjoy her morning free of any classes?

wait. this blanket didn’t smell like yours.

your eyes widened as you looked at your surroundings, blushing at the memories of last night. you lied back in mark’s bed wondering where your roommate was. you grabbed your phone on the bedside table and noticed that mark sent you a text.

sucky cook 🍳: hey, sorry i had to leave, didn’t want to be late for my morning class. wanna grab lunch together?

the text unknowingly made you smile as you got out of bed to get ready. when you stepped out of your building, the sun was high in the sky, the wind was softly brushing against your skin and you felt amazing. making your way to mark’s class, you politely greeted the people you knew in the hallways.

mark was impatiently waiting for his morning class to finish, wanting to finally be able to ask you out on a real date. he would’ve loved to ask you before what happened the night before but he sure was not complaining. you made his heart do all sorts of flips and just the thought of you made him all giggly.

“what’s up with you today? you look extra happy.”, his friend, lucas, asked him, after noticing a change in his 'aura’.

“really?”, lucas nodded as an answer and mark just giggled while scratching the back of his neck, “it’s nothing- i mean- no, no, it’s not nothing- i mean- i-”

“ooooh you got laid.”, lucas chuckled as mark tried to shush him, “i didn’t take you for a one night stand kind of guy.”

“i’m not- i mean, it was but- what if i don’t want her to be just a one night stand?”

“oooh hooo mark lee, yes man. get your girl.”

you waited outside of his classroom like last time while scrolling through your phone when a girl stopped in front of the class and checked inside before leaning against the wall next to the door. you looked at her for a second before focusing back on your phone. she looked quite familiar but you didn’t know where you’ve seen her.

“excuse me, are you mark’s roommate?”, the girl hesitantly asked you, snapping you out of your thought.

oh right, mark’s ex.

“uhm…yes.”, you gave her a short answer, not wanting to continue this conversation but she didn’t seem to get it as she walked closer to you.

“what are you doing here?”

“i’m waiting for-”

“y/n!”, both of you turned to the direction the voice came from and you smiled at the boy walking towards you, “kyunhee? what are you doing here?”

“i- i was wondering if you wanted to, i don’t know, grab something to eat?”, she asked, bouncing back and forth on her heels while holding tightly onto her books.

“oh, sorry. i already planned something with y/n.”, mark said, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers together, “see you around, kyunhee.”

you still looked at mark with wide eyes as the two of you walked away, “what?”, he asked, noticing your expression.

“you just completed the fourth step without me telling you what it was.”

“what’s the fourth step?”

“rejecting your ex if they come back.”, you proudly said then added, “even though you didn’t have to hold onto my hand to do that.”

“well, i like holding your hand.”

“i thought it was just supposed to be a one night stand.”, you said, hinting at your previous night together.

“what if i want it to be more than a one night stand?”, mark asked, sending a hopeful smile your way.

“i’d like that very much.”, you smiled back at him, giving his hand a light squeeze.

a/n: alright, i finally posted this!!!!! i hope you like it!! i posted this to celebrate nct 2020 and the two new members hnquhncfjkdfhsyufh i can’t wait aaaah and btw i love jisung’s hair so much rn

taglist: @planetjisungie​ @thatanonymousgirl-as14​ @xiao-zi​

[league-of-thots]

The Summoning

Pairing: dabi x reader x hawks

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: NONCON/DUBCON, blood play, dp, sacrificial summoning, mind manipulation, angels/demons/magic, gore, branding

A/N: So this was supposed to be a short little fic.... but thats not how it turned out, but im happy that it came out this way. I think its much better than what I originally had. Uh, please read the warnings because this has some things which could definitely be triggering.

thanks to @lady-bakuhoe, @ikinabi, and @marilla-eldriana for listening to me talk my ass off about it LMAO

other tags: @yaoyorozuwrites, @dee-madwriter

               You were beyond upset, tonight wasn’t supposed to be a night where you were heading into a bar on your own, dressed up for a date cut early, and freshly out of a relationship. As you sat down at the end of a rowdy bar, you can’t help the tears flowing out of your eyes. You’ve been holding them in for a while, trying not to break down in public, but sitting here with nothing else to do, you can’t stop the small sobs that break out.

               The bartender makes her way towards you, her lips turned down sadly as she starts cleaning up some glasses at the sink near you methodically. Your sobs die down as she starts speaking to you.

               “Rough night, sis?”

               “Yeah, you could say that again.”

               “Need something to drown it out?” you nod as she goes to grab some heavy liquid you can’t recognize. Whatever it is, it smells rank, you think as you lift the shot glass up towards your nose to sniff it.  You shoot it back, and shudder at the brief taste you get before you swallow it down, throat burning a bit as you let out a slight cough. She offers another with a gesture and you nod in response, quickly downing the second, and you nurse the third.

               Suddenly, a man in a raggedy black overcoat sits down beside you, raising a finger as he asks for some type of sake, and says “One for the crying mess, too.” In a raspy voice. You don’t even feel offended, it’s true, but he didn’t need to say it so harshly right in front of you. Although you wouldn’t say no to the free drink, as you quickly drained the one that you’d bought.

               “Thanks,” you mumble to him, the alcohol not really hitting you yet. You wipe the tears from your face. “What’s your name?”

               “Dabi.” He answers shortly, grabbing the sake and tipping it back, watching as you do the same. “You’re new here, but drinking like you’re about to be enlisted. What’s up?”

               Now normally, you wouldn’t be giving your life story to a random stranger who- quite frankly- looked like he belonged in a prison cell. However, normally you didn’t have four generous shots of heavy liquor coursing through your veins after having just broken up with your last boyfriend of just over a year.

               “Stupid asshat of a guy dumps me after over a year of being together for some stupid reason.” You sigh, head in your hands. “I don’t even get why? Like I was so blindsided and I feel like such a fucking idiot.”

               “Sounds like a real idiot,” Dabi replies, sliding you another drink which you eagerly accept, drinking it in a rage.

               “Like, fuck, I’m just not ready yet! Like, yeah if he was hard, I’d help him deal with it. But I just didn’t feel ready for sex, and he kept trying to force me, and when I get mad at that I’m the bad guy.” You’re starting to get a little dizzy, but at the moment, you’re so upset that you can’t really be bothered by it. You just want to be angry and heartbroken and drunk for a little while. So you don’t really have to face moving out of your shared apartment until later, tomorrow at the earliest.

                 “Was it a one-off thing? ‘Cause that’s a bit of an overreaction if that’s the case.” You’re so happy to have someone to vent too that you don’t notice the intent expression Dabi has on his face, you miss the way his body leans towards you eagerly waiting for an answer.

               “Well, no.” you shift a bit uncomfortable in your seat. “But he said he was fine with it! That he was alright with waiting.”

               “Well obviously he was lying. You must’ve been really stingy with sex.” You shouldn’t feel that hurt by a stranger’s words, especially when he has no idea about who you are and what your story was.

               “I just didn’t want my first time to be forced onto me.” You mumble, looking into your glass. You were starting to feel the dizziness from the rapidly consumed drinks. “I wasn’t ready for it.” You could feel the tears welling up again, not even bothering to try and stop them.

               “Makes sense. So, you’re a virgin then? And your boyfriend wanted to have sex and you didn’t so he broke up with you?” The odd phrasing of the questions didn’t even stand out to you.

               “Yes! Except he said it was fine and I believed him!” you wail out, you’re crying hard now into your arms that are lain on the bar top. You feel a hesitant hand patting your shoulder rather awkwardly, but his hand is really warm and you feel a bit better at the soft contact.

               “Sounds like a real idiot to me. You want another drink, doll?” he says softly into your ear. His breath tickles your neck a bit and you giggle a bit as you sway on your stool.

               “I don’t have the money! Ahaha… I’ve gotta save it now because I have to move out of the stupid apartment.”

               “Don’t worry, I have some money to spend. What better way to spend it than on a pretty girl, hmm?” You blush a little at the attention. His blue eyes are intense and you can’t keep eye contact for long with him.

               “I mean, if you’d like too, I won’t stop you.” You hum.

               “Alright then.” He gestures to the bartender, a dangerous grin on his face. You thought that you’d be spending the night alone, but you’re glad to have been proven wrong.

               The two of you nurse some drinks as you talk a bit, most of the talking done by you, the alcohol loosening your mouth as you tell him a lot of your time with your ex, and whatever random thought pops into your head. He doesn’t talk much, but it’s not really off-putting as he usually interjects with sarcastic one liners and small questions, nodding as you continue your stories.

               It’s getting later in the night and you’re blissfully drunk, unable to process the shitty feelings and how terrible you feel. Dabi seems to notice this and gets one of those grins he gets when you say how bad you want to fucking deck your ex in the face. It makes your heart beat in excitement.

               “You’ll do shots with me, right?” You nod, excited. Dabi orders six drinks, and you feel yourself tense in sudden apprehension. That’s a lot considering that you’d already drank a few… how many was it now? It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. He seems to notice your hesitance though.

               “What? Can’t handle a few shots?” his smile is teasing, but his words are daring you to agree with him, and you bristle in response.

               “Of course I can!” part of you is screaming at you, telling you how bad of an idea this is, but its easy to drown out in the haze of your mind.

               “Good, you can try to keep up with me then.” He shoots down the first without even warning and you scramble to catch up with him, grabbing the glass sitting in front of you, and tossing the drink back. You’re coughing a bit, the harshness of the shot winning against your already weakened and sensitive throat. Boldly you grab the next and shoot it down as well.

               That might’ve been a mistake, because you splutter more, you can barely think, and you feel like you’re choking on the air you’re breathing in. Dabi’s face looks concerned as he asks you if you’re alright. You can only shake your head in response, knowing that you can’t possibly try to talk like this. He sees you swaying and clutching your now stomach as it rolls nauseatingly.

               “Don’t worry, this is on me, I thought she was alright with them.” He’s speaking to the bartender, who looks worried and a little suspicious given his appearance, but his voice sounds like its in the end of a long tunnel to you. You accept being pulled into his arms as he leads you outside for some fresh air, he’s produced a bottle of water, and opens it one handed before handing it to you.

               You try to thank him but that goes terribly, as you start dry heaving when you open your mouth. He has a sad, but un-surprised look on his face as he takes in your motions. If you were focused enough you probably would’ve said he looked satisfied, but that doesn’t make sense because he has no idea who you are.

               Suddenly, everything starts spinning and you vaguely feel Dabi place your arm over his shoulder. You close your eyes, desperate to try and stop yourself from vomiting all over the man who was trying to help you. It’s your main focus as you lean almost all of your weight onto him and drag your feet across the pavement. You don’t know where he’s taking you but you can barely think much less stop him and you continue to keep your eyes closed, not worried at all.

                  Dabi couldn’t believe his luck meeting you. He’d just finished the final touches on the circle, he was practically all set up except for the link, the sacrifice. Of course, he’d been planning to go into bars to find the perfect person for his ritual, but he didn’t think it would’ve happened so quickly! He’d expected it to take months, and what a relief it was that it hadn’t! He can barely contain his excitement as he keeps your form tight to his body.

               You were so naïve, so trusting, latching onto the first person that offered you kindness. Getting drunk on your own in a rather sketchy bar on a Saturday night, what had you been thinking? He knew you’d had a shitty day, but getting drunk at home surely would’ve been the superior option, anyone could see that.

               It’s a decent walk to his place unfortunately, he knows that the usual 20-minute walk will likely double with you barely able to stand, much less walk quickly. So, he sighs and reminds himself exactly why this is so important. Why he’s even bothering to ‘save’ your pathetic form.

               The runs and sigils are going to look fucking gorgeous carved into your body, he thinks, still dragging you along. You’re almost to the point of unconsciousness, he notices, and it might be easier for him if you were unconscious. At least then he wouldn’t have to be concerned for how he drags you. The pitiful whimpering noises are so annoying to listen to, so he moved slow enough that you could sort of drag yourself and not make those noises.

               Dabi keeps running through the steps in his head, the rituals, the incantations, and the carvings…. He knew he was a powerful castor. He could only hope that the practice he’d put in, the training he’d put in and the beautiful and pure sacrifice he’d found would be enough to actually summon Satan.

               He knows with the power boost he could finally rid the world of his wretched father. Could finally get rid of him and his stupid fucking followers and coven.

               He’d take them all. And he’d win, he knew it.

               He’s finally dragged you to his apartment, and at this point you’re barely conscious in his arms. Good, it would make the carvings so much easier with you unable to struggle. Plus, with the fact that the alcohol would cloud your senses so you’d feel less pain and make less noise. He wonders if you’re even going to understand what’s happening to you, if you’re going to cry out in fear and confusion. He can’t even lie, the idea of that makes him feel a warmth down in his core, makes him start to feel hard, god, he bets your screams will sound as pretty as you are.

    ��          He has one of the only basement rooms in the apartment, the other two abandoned because of how cold and dirty it is down there, plus there was only cold water that ran down in the basement. However, it was secluded and quiet there, and that’s exactly what Dabi needed in a place. Somewhere where he could lay low while he bides his time, planning and training and waiting. He wasn’t originally a patient person, but he’d learned to be, and it was something that he was proud of.

               Luckily, he doesn’t have to explain to any of his upstairs neighbours why he’s dragging you across the lobby to the back set of stairs that only lead down to the concrete hall downstairs. He’s gotten a pretty large space in his basement room, especially with the way he’s completely emptied his living room. The couch is pushed against the wall, table and tv also against the wall leaving a large rug on the floor. The lucky part was that he didn’t ever have a ton of possessions, so it was rather easy for him to make the circle on the floor and cover it with a large goat-skin rug.

               He doesn’t have many chairs, only the ones at the small bar behind which his kitchen is located, so he tosses you onto the leather couch on your side in case you were to vomit. He can’t have you dying before he sacrifices you after all. He checks to make sure that you’re really out of it before he goes into his washroom to start cleaning himself and preparing his mind for the layers of spell he’s about to cast.

               He’s started clearing his mind as he walks into his room, crystals glistening even in the non-natural light, as he starts to slow his breathing in a rather deep and slow pattern. He feels himself start to go into a state he can only get into when he’s concentrating on magic. All his troubles seem to slip away as he steps into the warm running water. He keeps the sigils he’s going to be needing soon in mind as he washes away all the dirt and grime from the bar, washing away all the petty crime to get prepared for something far, far worse.

               When he’s towelled off, he puts on some cotton boxers, and soft grey pants, leaving himself shirtless in the chilling air. He feels the goosebumps start to creep up his arms as he grabs the old iron lighter, the only gift from his mother that he’d manage to take with him when he had to get out with his life after his father had found out what he’d done.

               You’re pretty much asleep on the couch when he comes out, and he looks over you, your innocent form, so fucking pleased at the sacrifice he’d managed to snatch. Turning away, he starts to take out some candles that he has stashed in the wooden chest beside his couch, the colours he uses going to be black, purple and red.

               After moving the carpet off, he places the candles in groups of three at the points and nodes of the circled star. Afterwards, he grabs the red chalk he has and starts to write the various Latin incantations around the circle. He ignores your soft snores, you seem to be mumbling something in your sleep, as he continues his work. It’s taking a lot more time than he’d like it to.

               But soon enough, he thinks, it’ll all be worth it.

                 You feel yourself lifted into the air, your head spinning even before you even open your eyes. Where are you? What’s happening? You try to open your eyes, but it’s so nauseating and disorienting seeing the dark room spinning around, you’re sure you’ve never been in before. You feel yourself lowered onto the ground, rather roughly. You keep your eyes closed trying to wait out the dizzy spell as you hear the click of a lighter, and you shudder, expecting to feel a sting of burning flames.

               But you don’t, and you hear the clicking a few more times. You start to feel a little more stable and you squint, trying to see what’s happening. You try and sit up, but you can’t with your dexterity hindered by the alcohol, and your wrists and ankles bound in ropes. You start to panic slightly, the last thing you can remember is accepting a few drinks from a man, Dabi wasn’t it?

               “Oh, you’re up. That’s good, you need to be conscious for this part.” Speak of the devil and there he shall appear. You feel a surge of fear as you turn your head towards the man.

               “What did you do? Why am I here?” you stumble, trying to cut through the fog in your head.

               “More like what did you do? Who goes out on their own in a sketchy part of town late at night? You were practically begging for something bad to happen to you.” You notice that he’s half naked and you shudder, remembering what you’d told him before and you get a terrible feeling in your gut.

               “No I wasn’t! I just wanted the night to not be complete shit!” You desperately search for anything in your reach that you could use to get yourself out of this situation. You can’t even roll away, you notice that there are iron pegs nailed into the ground and you are tied to those. You want to cry, you don’t know what you did to deserve this.

               “Well, you should’ve just stayed at home,” you hear a knife being pulled out of a holder, and in the corner of your eye you can see Dabi heating the blade against a large gas flame. It’s a twisted knife, the three sides a blue and black metal with a small skull on the end of the hilt. The metal is glowing red hot at the parts where it had been heated though.

               You squirm away from him as much as you can in your restraints when he kneels in front of you with the knife in his hand. “Stop fucking wiggling, It’ll hurt you more because I will nail you to the fucking floor if there’s a chance of me messing these up because of you.” You stop your motions, not wanting whatever’s coming to be made worse. So instead, you start screaming as loud as you can for help, the desperation in your tone evident.

               He just throws his head back in mad laughter at that. “Keep on screaming! I haven’t even started the fun bit yet baby! Nobody can hear you down here you know? It’s utterly fucking pointless for you to cry for help. But please go on, it makes me feel soooo good.”

               You feel your eyes widen in horror looking at the man’s face. He’s still oddly attractive, the flames giving his face sharper shadows, making him look almost inhuman. You’ve never wanted to disappear from someone’s gaze so badly before.

               You shudder as you feel his cold hand push you over and down on your stomach. How are you supposed to get out of there when you’re lying on your stomach with him pressing his weight into you.

               You are mid thought when the first lick of iron hot metal is brought onto your back. You cry out in surprise and pain, the knife tugging at your muscles and you can feel the ridges it has. Tears spring to your eyes, but it doesn’t seem to hurt as much as you would’ve thought, it must be all the alcohol still coursing its way through your system.

               You can’t focus on the words he’s murmuring as he continues to slice designs with purpose into your back. He laughs whenever you let out a vicious scream and you can’t see his face but you can tell he’s enjoying the process immensely.

               “Shirt’s getting in the way of the rest of it sweetheart, guess it’s time to take it off now.” He’s so smug which makes you feel humiliated as you press your head into the ground trying to put yourself together. You whimper as you feel your shirt lifted and hear the fabric tearing.

               You’re now shivering half naked on the cold concrete floor and starting to lose your grip on reality as the pain sends you drifting in and out of consciousness. You feel sharp pain as he starts designing up your spine, humming a bit as he goes. Why’d you have to meet a psychopath tonight? Wasn’t your luck just so shitty lately.

               You lose track of time as he works, you’re pretty sure that you lose consciousness for most of it, but luckily Dabi doesn’t wake you up for it. However, when you do come to, you notice how badly your throat hurts, you must’ve been screaming a lot for that to happen.

               “You ready for the front now? Then we can finally get the real thing started.”

               “Please, isn’t there enough? I don’t want anymore stop please! Just let me go.” You try pleading with him, knowing it’s probably not going to work. He doesn’t even deign you with response to your pathetic attempt. Instead he flips you over, your hands now positioned up above your head.

               Your limbs feel like lead, and you feel as if all your energy has been draining out of you along with the blood that’s come oozing out of your wounds. You can’t move, you’re stuck and all you can do is look at the man doing this to you and seethe in anger and hatred. His eyes seem to be burning with bright blue flames, but surely that must be you hallucinating? People’s eyes don’t glow.

               “Finally,” he breathes out as he leans back and admires his handiwork. He’s looking at you with blown open eyes, erection prominent and you can see the outline through his sweatpants. “Now it’s just to call him while I carve my name into your chest. You’re gonna spell it out for me, got that doll? Or else I can start working on the other bits of skin.”

               You just want it over with at this point, you’ll go along with his idea just so you can finally get out. “Fine.” You whisper, resigned to it at this point.

               “D.” He must’ve heated up the knife again, because it burns more than it did before and you scream your throat raw as he carves this much deeper that the other markings.

               “A!” you screech, hoping it ends soon, at least he has a short name.

               “B!” your voice cracks in your agony and your chest is aching.

               “I!” you sob, tears streaming down your face again as feel your body go completely limp as you succumb to darkness once again.

                 Dabi tries to get his breathing in control, looking at your broken and bleeding form. He’s never felt this aroused by someone, and he was right, your screams were like an orchestra playing the most beautiful music he’s ever heard.

               But that was a bonus. It was time for the summoning, and so it was time to focus and go through it. He slices his left palm, your blood mixing with his before he lets it spill over, mesmerized by how it drip, drip, drips onto the stained concrete. One last incantation that he has to say, and he hasn’t been this excited since he’d first found out he was a castor, and that he was a pretty powerful one at that.

               He waits anxiously in silence, eyes on you as more blood oozes from all the markings, there’s thin linking of red all around the cuts. He wishes that the sacrifice didn’t require a virgin because he desperately wanted to take it from you himself.

               Lost in his thoughts, the sudden burst of wind that erupts from the centre of the circle, from under your form blows out all the candles.

               “Well, aren’t you an ambitious one. Trying to summon Satan all on your own.” Dabi jerks around at the lilting voice from behind him, somehow, it’s both amused and condescending at the same time, and Dabi bristles at it.

               “You aren’t powerful enough to be him, I didn’t summon you.” His teeth are grinding in frustration.

               “So rude, and we’ve only just met! Look kid, you don’t have the power or the numbers to summon Satan right now, but I’m the highest-level under-creature you could get.” His eyes seem to glow gold in the darkness, they light up his sharp features.

               Dabi lets out a growl with a few curses. “Whatever, that doesn’t matter, I knew it was a long shot. You said you were the highest I could get. How high is that?” His grin is devious as he hears the question.

               “I’m Hawks, fallen angel at your service. As for how high I am? I’m in the 5th level range.” Dabi whistles at that. “So, does that mean you’re going to strike a deal with me? I haven’t gotten a serious one in a while. It’s getting seriously boring down there.”

               “You should be able to lend me the amount of firepower I’d need for it. What are your terms, and how does the transfer work in your deals?” he grins showing off his fangs a bit as he cages Dabi in a bit despite being shorter, wings making him seem much larger though.

               “Here’s the fun part, because I’m a fallen angel, it works a little differently! My powers got corrupted so that sacrifice you have there – oh she’s an actual virgin! – is going to be your ticket to my powers.”

               “So, I have to keep her safe?”

               He shrugs, “You asked, I’m just telling you friend. Obviously, the price is the same as any other deal.”

               “Obviously.”

               “So, you’re prepared for that? Hell isn’t as nice as you’d think.”

               “No shit Sherlock, but don’t worry, I’ve thought it through a fair bit.” Hawks laughs at that.

               “Alright! Since my fall was lust based, the power transfer is too, if you catch my drift.” Hawks says with a raised eyebrow.

               “….sort of?”

               “Oh my god, are you an idiot?”

               “I don’t want to hear that from you, chicken man.” Dabi just wants this over with, he’s getting a little antsy. “Can we get started already?”

               “Alright then, time to wake up sleeping beauty over there.”

                 You feel yourself being blearily shaken awake, and you’re shocked to see a different face than Dabi’s in front of you. He’s gorgeous, and his wings, despite being an eerie dark red, are full and look so soft. Blearily, you try to reach up to try and feel them, forgetting that your hands are tied to the peg on the floor. The man looks at you with pity and amusement.

               “Hey there, I’m Hawks, are you ready to become a human magic battery?” he says cheerily, words much at odds with his words and expression.

               “What, no, what’s going on? Please there’s a man here – Dabi – and he’s kidnapped me! You have to help me out, call the police, why are you smiling?” You feel the tiny bit of hope that had grown up come crashing down as you observed the – man? Angel? – who called himself Hawks.

               “Yeah, my friend Dabi and I have a little arrangement here. You know what I am right? You should know that struggling is useless. Just lay back and enjoy the ride, baby.” His eyes pierce your soul and you find yourself unable to even think of a response to that.

               You don’t even completely realize what that means until he starts nuzzling your neck as his hands go towards your tits, starting to play with your pebbled nipples, his hands surprisingly warm.

               “No please, I don’t want that…” you say weakly, completely spent already from the ordeal that Dabi had put you through. “I just want to go home!” you’re so delirious from pain and the small bits of pleasure you’re trying to pretend aren’t happening at Hawks’ toying with you.

               “Too bad little bird, you don’t really have a say in the matter at the moment.” He bites down on your neck hard, drawing blood which he then licks up. “So, fucking good! Haven’t been able to do this in so long.” He’s grinding into you, the layers of fabric bringing you stimulation and pleasure as you moan, immediately tensing up in embarrassment and shame.

               “Don’t be like that, I always make people feel good like this, so just relax.” His eyes are glowing and as you look into them, you feel yourself relaxing a bit. Maybe you should relax, he definitely knows what he’s doing, you can feel the heat building in your core and your hazy mind start to lose focus. His eyes, are just so fucking beautiful, and the way his fingers are moving feel amazing.

               He turns his head down, lapping lightly at your breast. His tongue is warm, but the metal stud on his tongue makes you moan out in delight.

               “Oh so you do like it!” he exclaims brightly. “Let’s get this started now baby.” Your mind is still screaming at you that this is wrong, that you don’t want this, that you need to struggle and get free. With all the distractions in your mind, its so deliciously easy to fall into a hazy daydream like trance as he licks up the blood from your wounds. His tongue makes it feel so, so good. He switches breasts, tugging on your nipples as you mewl in delight. Once you let go, everything was so much better!

               He sucks bruises onto your hips, nipping at them with his sharpened fangs. “Oi, don’t enjoy yourself too much there Dabi, you gotta go a round too after.” You turn to see Dabi stretched out like a cat on his couch, his cock out of his pants as he languidly strokes it. It’s pierced and you find yourself imagining how it would feel scraping your walls.

               There was only one thing bothering you, and it was that everywhere Hawks touched grew hotter and hotter, not in an unpleasant way, more in an antsy, wanting to move and run mood. You felt like you were vibrating and you didn’t understand it. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care as your jaw dropped when the angel ripped off your bottoms harshly.

               “Let’s see if you taste as good as the other humans I’ve devoured.” He rips the ankle restraints as he tosses your knees over his shoulders and licks a stripe up your pussy. You shudder at the new sensation, biting on your lip to stifle your moan.

               He sees that as a challenge and spends his time tasting your juices along his tongue, his eyes seemingly brighter as he works at your pussy, teasing your clit with his tongue stud. He keeps working at you with single minded determination, teasing your hole with his sharp nail and you let out a squeak, which quickly turns into a groan as he slides his finger in. He adds a second as soon as he can, loving hearing the sounds your pussy makes as he scissors you open.

               You’ve never felt this good in your life, you can barely tell what’s happening, but you feel waves of pleasure as you feel his tightening in your lower belly.

               “You’re getting close, huh?” Hawks brings his face up, eyes lidded as he licks the juices around his mouth. “Do you want to cum?”

               “Yes!”

               “Well, I don’t know, you were pretty awful to my business partner over there… maybe I shouldn’t let you cum.” He brings his second hand up to his face, lightly scratching at his scruff, and you begin to panic. You have this insatiable need, you don’t know where it came from, but it’s not letting you think at all. There’s this voice yelling at you that it’s Hawks’ fault, but he’s literally an angel. How could he be doing something so disgusting to you?

               So you open your mouth, “Please let me cum, I’ll be so good for you sir! I didn’t mean to be awful to him, I just didn’t understand what he was trying to do!”

               “That’s fucking right.” There’s a sudden intensity in his eyes that makes you feel like your heart’s stopped. “You didn’t know what you were doing. I’m your guardian angel after all, and I came here because you were going to make a mistake that would put you in danger.”

               “Oh my god…” the horror you feel chokes your throat, yet it doesn’t rid you of the incessant need that’s been plaguing you.

               “Would your guardian angel ever steer you wrong, Y/N?” he grabs your chin, nails cutting shallowly when he presses.

               “No, you wouldn’t!” you shake your head, trying to convey exactly how much you were repenting.

               “So, listen carefully little lady. This is important.” He waits for your assent before he continues. “You’re in a very dangerous spot, so I needed a friend here to help you out, he’s going to keep you nice and safe. All you have to do in return is let yourself have some fun, some pleasure in your life. I mean, you’re begging for that exact pleasure right now.”

               There’s a little niggling at the back of your head, it’s telling you how good you’ll be treated, you’ll be loved and accepted. You start to shake it off, but you can’t when it tells you that nobody will ever make you feel good like this, who would want too? Here you have two beings ready to make you feel good like you’ve never felt before and you’re denying them?

               “Of course, that sounds like a great idea Mr. Hawks.”

               “Alright, what a good girl, see Dabi? Isn’t she great?”

               “I knew I’d gotten lucky, but I didn’t realize how lucky until now.” The grin on his face is satisfied, but as you look longer, the more you see the pleasure and happiness he feels too.

               “Do I get to cum now? You keep saying how good I am…” you don’t remember thinking about saying that, but the words seem to come out on their own accord.

               In response Hawks goes back to your neglected pussy and starts thrusting his fingers into a spot inside you that makes you gasp in surprise. With all the swirling emotions and pain and alcohol you feel yourself tighten and let loose quickly, hitting your high in ecstasy. Your back arches, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you notice that your shoulders have definitely been scratched up badly.

               But why care when you feel so good now?

               Your eyes are closed as you lie there, battered and cut and so blissed out as Hawks removes his pants and looks around.

               “You didn’t bring lube?” he directs the question to Dabi.

               “You need that? I thought you had like, magic and shit.”

               Hawks swallows his annoyance, “I’m in a mortal form dipshit. Channeling divine or corrupt energy is hard to do without fucking blowing myself up.”

               Dabi just shrugs. “I mean to be fair; I didn’t know I was getting some angel that got kicked out of heaven for being horny. Or else I definitely would’ve bought some.”

               “Whatever,” he mutters. “I like this way better.” You hear the conversation, but can’t be bothered to really understand what they’re saying. All you know is that you feel someone leaning above you.

               Hawks takes a feather from his wings, carefully turning it in his hands. “Now, I’m not going to lie, this is going to hurt a bit. But I’ll make you feel so good you won’t even remember it, alright?” You nod along blearily, barely hearing him.

               He grins and slices a long line right above your hip, and you barely feel it being so numb. You do feel his fingers pressing into the cut though, and you try to squirm away, but that just makes him slam you down with his other hand in a surprising show of force for his physique. It feels so wrong when you feel him wiggle his fingers a bit inside your skin, and you shut your eyes so you don’t have to see it. Apparently, that amuses Dabi, who starts guffawing off to the side somewhere. The pain brings up all off the fear you’ve been feeling the whole night, and it shocks you. You start screaming, begging to be let go hysterically while you see Hawks, his hand covered in your blood, fisting his length, mixing some of the precum with it.

               “I thought you said you were going to behave.” He growls and you feel an intense pressure on your mind for a second before your fear starts to fade away easily. “Much better.” He says to your relaxing form.

               “You gotta teach me how to do that,” Dabi comments, which just has Hawks rolling his eyes.

               “Shut up and let me enjoy this, I haven’t had sex in so long, warlock.” That elicits a snort from Dabi as he settles back down.

               He lines up his cock with your slick entrance, teasing a bit as the blood and your juices mix together and it lets him start to work his way inside of you. You’re panting, fingers scrabbling at everything they can reach as he pushes through. You feel a mix of pain and pleasure as he pushes all the way into you. He surprisingly lets you adjust, breathing heavily as your walls squeeze intensely around the intrusion.

               It feels so, so good though and Hawks can tell that’s how you feel as he grins and moves your legs up and around his hips. You whine as he stretches you out more with the new position, and he grunts a bit as he starts thrusting his hips, dragging his sharpened nails down your side without breaking the skin. He puts his head to your neck, pressing open mouth kisses there that make you relax around him, and as soon as he feels that change, he starts pounding into you harder. You hear lewd noises and realize that most of them, are in fact, coming from you. Which is a little jarring of a realization but in your state, you can’t really say it surprised you. It was more of a ‘huh, that’s me then’ moment.

               The sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room along with grunts of exertion and moans of pleasure from the pair of you. You can feel yourself building up to that point once again, and you don’t realize it until you’re clamping down on his cock with a shout of pleasure. Hawks groans at the sound, and feels your tight walls somehow clamp down on him harder and starts bucking into you, nails digging into your hips as he chases his own release.

               Had you been in any normal state of mind, you might’ve found it disturbing that Hawks seemed to be murmuring a bunch of Latin as he pounded into you. You might’ve noticed the hand he placed on your heart left a searing imprint that turned dark red. You might’ve noticed his pupils contract into slits and his eyes turn a deep red for a few seconds.

               But you didn’t.

               You felt like you were floating, and figured if this could be compared to anything, it would be a more painful version of a wet, fever dream.

               Suddenly, Hawks comes inside you and you feel the warm liquid fill you up as he thrusts a couple more times, working himself through it. He stays inside, but that’s not what takes your focus. The feeling that you were vibrating without moving was back with a vengeance, but you also felt this numbness that started from your core that moved outwards until your entire body was feeling that way. As Hawks pulled out, you felt so empty, you felt like you didn’t know what to do. So, you let your eyes drift shut while you heard some talk about ‘a transfer’ and ‘both it her.’

               Suddenly, your wrist bindings were also stripped off and you look up in surprise to see Hawks with that same feather setting you free, while Dabi moved to the bedroom.

               “You still going to be good for us, little lady? We’re almost done for tonight.” He coos at you, lightly stroking your chin with his finger.  You give him a small nod, and with that, he picks you up as if you were a stuffed toy and you lean into his shoulder as he brings you to the bedroom.

               “Right, at least you’re prepared already so we can get into this quickly.” Hawks says brusquely, bringing himself to the bed and setting you down before he sits as well.

               “You were enjoying yourself a minute ago, what’s with the sudden rush?” Dabi’s eyebrow is quirked as he puts his hand in your hair and starts scratching your head. You shamelessly sigh in appreciation.

               “My times running out, gotta get this transfer done soon or else we’re going to have to start over another day.” Hawks grouches. “Damn I don’t miss all the rules, but having unlimited mortal form time? That’s something I miss about upstairs.”

               Turning his attention to you Dabi says, “Here, you enjoyed that guy, so you’ll love sitting on my cock.”

               Right now, nothing sounded better, so using the last of your strength, you crawled up to his lap and he guided you right above his dick. He brought you down slowly, ever so slowly, and you felt every inch of his dick inside you, especially those piercings that gave you an amazing sensation.

               “There’s a good girl, much better than before,” he gets out.

               “Now you’re going to need to relax, alright Y/N? It’s going to feel really tight at first but you’ll feel great afterwards.” Hawks is mumbling this into your neck, playing with your hair a little bit while he does.

               “I can do that,” you say, unaware of what he was going to do, but ready to please him.

               “Good, Dabi you might have to distract her a little bit, she’s pretty tight for one person, let alone two.” Dabi smirks but leans back, starting to play with your nipples a bit. You never thought you’d like the sensation of someone swirling around them, tugging them at some points, but here you were, enjoying every second of it.

               You get so into it, that at first you don’t notice Hawks lining up with your entrance and starting to work his way back into you. Dabi actually does first, shuddering at the contact of Hawks’ dick against his own and gasping a bit.

               “Oh Dabi, you were so cocky a minute ago, what’s wrong now?” You hear the teasing from behind as you desperately grip onto Dabi’s shoulders, trying to stay relaxed so it doesn’t hurt as much.

               “Fuck off, chicken.” Is his only response which Hawks cackles at as he starts to push further in. You gasp at the painful stretch, tears welling out of your eyes, as Hawks reaches around you to play with your clit to distract you.

               “Doing so good, sweetheart, just a little bit more, can you do that for me?” he nips at your ear.

               “Yes,” you gasp, the pleasure from his rough finger movements distracting you a bit from all the pain as your breathing gets shallow. “Slow down, please?”

               “That’ll just make it worse,” he says. “I’m just going to get it over quickly, alright?” you don’t even have time to agree before he shoves the rest of his way in, screaming out as it happens. You feel so fucking stuffed, and they haven’t even started moving or anything.

               Dabi’s losing some of that composure he’d had before, cussing as he tries to steady his breathing, but you feel his cock twitching inside you. You’re losing the strength you have in your arms as you lean forwards onto Dabi’s chest, and you moan as the shift in movement gives you friction on your clit and in your pussy.

               Without really knowing what you’re doing, you press kisses onto the side of his neck as you lie there, trying to get used to being this stretched out. It wasn’t going to happen tonight that’s for sure, because you’d barely had anything up there until today.

               You feel a grip tighten on your hips as one of them, at this point you have no idea who, starts moving in and out. The other goes the opposite rhythm so that you always feel so completely full you feel like you’re going to burst. The thought comes unbidden into your mind that these two sadists might actually enjoy that. It makes you shiver in fear.

               You can’t really remember what happened, but you have specific feelings and recollections of the two fucking into you,

               …Dabi hitting your G-Spot over and over again as you see white and cum hard on his cock…

               …Hawks leaning over you to grab Dabi into a rather passionate kiss as he got you to play with the raven-haired man’s pierced nipples…

               …Your ass getting spanked so you clench down on them and Dabi comes, but stays inside until he gets hard again…

               …getting toyed with in every possible way, bites and bruises marking your skin so much that you feel light headed from blood-loss…

               …you remember clawing at Dabi’s back which has him screaming in pleasure…

               …Dabi’s eyes glowing blue, as if he’d had flames trapped inside them and they were ready to come out…

               …pleased laughter and an uptick in pace…

               …then nothing…

                 Dabi lays back, breathing heavily as your form is slumped on his chest. He wasn’t surprised you’d completely passed out a little way into your second round. If anything, he was surprised you’d managed to last that long. He was wiped after one, but that was mainly because he was trying to keep up with Hawks, who had the fucking endurance of something otherworldly.

               Which made sense given he was a magical being.

               Still it peeved Dabi to no end as Hawks slid out of you looking completely untouched as he did so. The only thing that was out of place was his hair, messed from Dabi grabbing it, which he hadn’t remembered starting but it was sometime when he was making out with Hawks… which he hadn’t expected… but he wasn’t complaining.

               Although no matter how drained Dabi felt physically, magically? He felt so fucking ready to take on anything that could happen in the future. He could feel it pulsing around his body, in his fingertips and temples, and it felt amazing. He understood why so many people went with summoning darker entities for power transfers now, much easier and much more potent.

               “So, I have to be here in person to do my whole mind-manipulation thing, so you should think about how to keep her safe for now. She’s tied to you because of the transfer so like, if she were to die for example…. You’d definitely die too.” Hawks says with a cheery smile.

               “You didn’t think to mention that before?” he gets a shrug in response.

               “You didn’t ask. Oh and, for every time you need a power boost, just take care of her and let her enjoy the sex, it’ll ah – flow easier if you catch my drift.”

               “Thanks oh angel of a good dickening… what would I ever do without you?”

               “No seriously, the more your conduit enjoys the sex, the more you get out of it.” he looks unamused.

               “Oh. Ah, well that’s good to know.” Dabi has to start planning out his next moves then, keeping you healthy and happy was going to be a tough job.

               “I did make the suggestion to her that I was her guardian angel and you were helping her out, try to play up that angle, it’ll call up some of the residual magic in her mind and make her… more pliant.” Hawks starts putting on his clothes once again.

               “Uh, thanks. Is she just a constant source of your power then?” That’s the only part Dabi was still confused about.

               “No, I’ll be back when I feel the energy start to dwindle. I need you to do all the terrible things I know you have planned. Your soul will be fucking delicious then. Any who, see you later Dabi! It was an absolute pleasure doing business with you.”

               He vanishes like he came, suddenly disappearing with a gust of air hitting Dabi in the face. Dabi looks down on you, still on his cock as he desperately tries to think about what he was going to do to keep you in here and how he’d keep you safe trying to hunt down another coven.

[highonchocolate]

Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 16

First   Previous   Next   Ao3

It was nearly an hour later that his phone rang, his ringtone loudly cutting though the peaceful quiet that had descended upon the room. Swearing, he jumped up to turn it off before anyone heard, wincing at the screen’s brightness. Marinette’s name flashed across the screen, and he fumbled to accept the call, pressing the button and holding the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?” He asked, trying to slow his pounding heart. 

“...Adrien?” Marinette’s voice asked hesitantly in his ear.

“Hi ‘Nette一”

“I'm so sorry!” She blurted out, unintentionally interrupting him. The words seemed to spill from her mouth, a torrent of apologies she couldn't have stopped if she tried.

“I should have realized how you felt, I should have known how much you were hurting. I'm so, so, incredibly sorry that I didn't treat you properly. I saw you as a useless sidekick, and I forgot that we’re partners. You're not less than me. You are my equal, and my best friend. It was so wrong of me to treat you that way, and I know my actions are inexcusable.” She paused, recollecting her thoughts. Adrien waited patiently on the other end, not interrupting her apology. 

“I knew, god, I know how much of an asshole your dad is, Adrien, and I一 I used that to hurt you, because I knew it would hurt you and I一” She took a shaky breath, the sound crackling over the speakers.

“I wanted to hurt you.” Is the quiet admission, shameful and horrified. He nearly dropped his phone in surprise at the confession, eyes wide in shock. As much as he had known it, it still hurt to hear it out loud. One of his best friends had used one of his weaknesses against him, knowing exactly how much it would hurt him. 

She took his silence as an invitation to continue, voice clogging with tears. “I don’t know why I was so mean, I mean I did, but like, I just...I don’t know why I said any of that. I wish...I wish I had seen how much you were hurting.” She repeated, guilty and sad. “And I’m so so sorry Adrien. I’m so incredibly一”

“Marinette!” He interrupted, cutting off her slew of apologies. “It's okay. I forgive you.” He hesitated, “but I can’t forget.” He told her unapologetically, hoping she would understand.

“I...I get that.” She said, “And I’m going to do my best to make it up to you.”

“If you want to make it up to me just...try not to say stuff like that, to anyone. And you know..” He trailed off, waiting for her to fill in the blanks

“Yeah, treat you the way you should have been treated all along?” She asked. “I'll do that. And if I can’t do it right, I’ll learn.” She added determinedly.

“Thank you.” Adrien told her, sincerity filling his tone. “For trying”

She felt the tears that had been welling spill over, cascading down her cheeks in a waterfall of silver. “Thank you for giving me the chance to try.”

He smiled, a small, sad thing. “Yeah.”

They sait in silence for a moment, just listening to the other’s breathing over the phone, before Adrien suddenly spoke up.

“Actually, I wanted to give you an apology of my own. I shouldn't have said it was your fault that Lila was harassing me. It isn't. If it's anyone's fault it's hers. It was wrong of me to blame you for that, and I'm sorry.” 

“I'm sorry if I made you feel like your problems weren't as valid, or if I made you think you had to keep it all inside.” She told him, wishing she was there to give him a hug. 

“I think we're all entitled to expressing our emotions.” Adrien remarked quietly, staring out through his windows at the Parisian skyline. “Me, you, our team...all of us.”

“Yeah,” she discreetly wiped away the few tears that had escaped during their conversation, sitting cross legged on her bed as they talked. 

“Too bad that’s been taken from us.”

Adrien was quiet for a while, his breathing the only sound from his end. 

“Once we defeat Hawkmoth, what do we do from there? Bunnix said there was a future Hawkmoth, and I don’t want to keep doing this forever. I want to do...so much more than this.” He finally said, voice hushed as though sharing a terrible secret.

“I know. I don’t think...I don’t think I could go through all of this again.” She confessed. “I’m so scared.”

“Well, I guess we’ll be scared together.” He offered, by her side even an ocean away.

She huffed out a laugh. She was lucky to have him. Even if she didn’t deserve his friendship. 

“I swear once this is done I’m going to take these jewels and stick them exactly back where they came from.” From where she had been hovering above her head, Tikki giggled and reached down to hit her forehead with their paws. 

“Hey!” She smiled as they scowled playfully at her, turning her attention back to her phone as Adrien spoke.

“Oh yeah definitely. I love Plagg, and I’m sure you love Tikki, but I can’t wait for the day we don’t have to save Paris from complete and utter destruction every other day.”

“Oh same.” 

They sat in silence again, but this time it was less awkward, more comfortable. They each understood what the other was trying to say.

“Sorry Mari but I have to go.” Adrien said eventually, turning over to check the time. “It’s already one am over here.”

“Gotta get that beauty sleep,” She teased. “Bye Adrien.”

“Bye Mari.”

There was a click as the line disconnected. With a sigh, Marinette tossed her phone onto her bed, reaching over to her abandoned sketchbooks and pens. Flipping through the last few pages, she stared at the half-finished scrawls of outfits for the five of them. She remembered tossing them to the side as her inspiration came and went, uncaring if they wrinkled or tore as she angrily shoved them away. 

As she continued to look at them, she felt her creativity begin to rise. If I added a few ruffles here, and shortened the skirt...maybe purple? Ew, definitely no plaid. Oh and this one could have a hat! But like...a beret, not a bowler hat. Maybe made with netting instead of solid cloth? Navy stones!

Determined, she sharpened her pencils and began to sketch, barely erasing as the lines flowed from her hand, forming shapes and designs.

Four hours later, she came out of her haze, blinking confusedly as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room around her. She squinted at the clock and stifled a yelp at the time blinking cheerily at her in red LEDs. Was it eleven pm already?! Ignoring it for the moment, she turned back to the designs spread across her desk, and allowed her lips to curve into a satisfied smile as she took in the lines and colors spread across the pages. 

She grabbed her phone, turning on the desk light and adjusting her papers as she snapped pictures of her sketches. Fidgeting with excitement, she sent them to the group chat. 

You

Designs for us! [Sent 11:22 PM]

(AdrienSketch.IMG) [Sent 11:22 PM]

(LukaSketch.IMG) [Sent 11:23 PM]

(ChloeSketch.IMG) [Sent 11:23 PM]

(KagamiSketch.IMG) [Sent 11:23 PM]

(MariSketch.IMG) [Sent 11:23 PM]

Their responses would come sporadically as they each woke up and checked their messages. Remembering that, she turned off the lights and climbed into bed, falling asleep almost instantly. 

--

Her dreams were blessedly nightmare-free, and she woke up thankful for the uninterrupted night. Unlocking her phone, she saw several message notifications from their chat, opening and reading through them as she walked into the bathroom.

Kagami

Beautiful! [Sent 12:15 AM]

These look so cute, Mari!!! [Sent 12:15 AM]

Adrien

Kagami’s right Mari, these are amazing! [Sent 1:02 AM]

Luka

^^Yeah, what they both said. [Sent 1:02 AM]

Adrien

Also, I see you [Sent 1:03 AM]

Luka

These are awesomeee! [Sent 1:03 AM]

Adrien

That was not subtle at all [Sent 1:03 AM]

Luka

What? [Sent 1:04 AM]

Ohh I see it now [Sent 1:05 AM]

Very funny Mari [Sent 1:05 AM]

Chloe

Oooh Nettie so cuteee!!! [Sent 2:36 AM]

I like the removable cat ears on the hoodie lmao [Sent 2:36 AM]

Kagami

Right?  [Sent 2:53 AM]

Favorite part of Adrien’s design. [Sent 2:53 AM]

Adrien

^^ [Sent 3:04 AM]

Luka

^^ [Sent 3:16 AM]

You

Lol I was wondering if youd spot that [Sent 8:22 AM]

Im trying to see if i can add anything similar to all of yours [Sent 8:22 AM]

Im definitely open to suggestions :D [Sent 8:23 AM]

With that, she turned off her phone and headed downstairs, ready to relax and enjoy her weekend.

---

@laurcad123, @liquid-luck-00, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @stainedglassm

[callingitaday]

Sweetness

Pairing : Fred Weasley x reader (fem)

wc: 2K+ Warnings : none.. I think

Gif owner: fgweasley

6 months. 6 months since the battle. 6 months since Lord Voldemort killed your family. 6 months of nightmares and sleepless nights. 6 months of wanting it all to end. 

*flashback *

“No! No! What  are you doing here? I told you to stay away” you yelled as your parents stepped onto the battlefield. 

“ We’re here to help honey” your mom spoke

“We need everyone to fight. He can’t win. Everything will be alright, we love you” your dad finished.

“Y/N help!” Neville yelled. Running over to help fight off a death eater when you hear your mom's screams echoing through the chaos causing you to turn around and let out a blood curdling scream. You see Voldemort killing your parents, making you drop to your knees.

“MOM” you cried out

Voldemort turns his attention to you. Immediately you stand to fight, tears clouding your sight before arms are wrapped around your waist lifting you off the ground. 

“We need to go”   Fred yelled as you fought against him.

*end of flash back*

Since your family was now gone, the Weasley's have taken you in as their own. Miss Weasley or Molly as she keeps reminding you ensures that everything will be okay and you always have and forever will be a part of this family. You appreciate hearing this as it helps you while transitioning into this new beginning. 

Fred checks on you multiple times throughout the day, which gets annoying sometimes but you love him so it’s okay. You know he knows something is wrong but didn’t know what or why I wouldn’t tell him why. Fred was your best friend, he was a year older but I didn’t really seem to matter. You told each other everything but you couldn’t seem to tell him about the nightmares or the fact that you were completely and utterly in love with him. Which is the way you’d like to keep it.

As another nightmare penetrated your mind, you were awoken in a cold sweat and tears daring to fall. 3 AM you sigh, quietly making your way downstairs to make some tea. Leaving a smell light on as you made your way to the front porch the cool air felt very welcoming against your burning skin. As you said that you let your mind wander free. Thinking about simple things like how summer days were hot and the evenings were cool, how lively the house always was, how the house always smells like a bakery because Mrs. Weasley makes something new to try every day. But also thinking about the battle of Hogwarts. To your parents, to everyone and everything you lost.

Due to being zoned out you weren’t exactly aware of the things around you. The stairs begin to squeak under the weight of someone making their way down.

“Y/N? What are you doing? It's almost 4 in the morning” Fred's sleepy voice came from behind you. 

“Couldn’t sleep” Fred came up next to you before sitting down. 

“ is everything okay?” 

You sat there in silence as you thought how to answer, you didn’t really know and didn’t really wanna cry anymore. 

“Y/N?” Fred spoke quietly

“sorry,  I’m fine”  now resting your head on his shoulder

“ you’re lying come on tell me what’s going on”

“Fred…’ A silent tear falling ‘I’m sorry I can’t do that right now. Just sit with me” 

“Okay but when you’re ready I’m ready” Fred pulls you into a hug kissing your forehead. He held you for a while and once he was satisfied that you would be heading back to bed too he himself headed upstairs. Soon enough you too made your way up to bed. Letting your head hit the pillow, your eyes close. As you let the tiredness take over, hoping tomorrow will be better.

It was still early when you woke back up. The girls were still sleeping and you could hear the quick chirping of the birds outside. Quietly changing into some shorts and a t-shirt before making your way downstairs. Peeking into Ron's room as you passed, both Ron and Harry were still dead asleep and Ron was snoring quite loudly causing you to giggle a bit.

Molly was starting to make breakfast “Oh! Good morning dear” 

“Good morning” you spoke gently as you entered the kitchen. “Fresh tea is on the table” Molly added, you responded with a smile before taking a seat at the table. 

“Morning boys”

“Morning” they said in unison. George never took his eyes off the paper they were working on but Fred looked up. He tilted his head a little, giving you a smile. You look down at your cup, taking in a deep unsteady breath before looking back up at him. Forcing a small smile while taking a sip of your tea. Molly slowly started putting breakfast on the table and yelled up the stairs that breakfast was ready. You weren't that hungry but still grabbed a biscuit.

Fred kept looking at you, a sweet but concerned look covered his features as he observed you picking at your food and tinkering with the cup of tea. Wanting to be out from under Fred's gaze you got up and dumped out the old tea to make a new cup. “Not hungry dear? Is everything okay?” Molly asked. “ eh, not really but I'm okay. Just a bit tired” you gave a reassuring smile.

“Alright, im here is you need anything” 

Heading out to the front porch for some fresh air, taking a seat in one of the old rocking chairs. Not long after the screen door snapped shut and the porch squeaked just a little under the wait of  the person approaching. You stayed in your own little world, never looking up from your cup. In all honestly you didn't have too, you knew who it was the second he walked through the doorway. You could smell him, he always smelt like fire embers and sweets, and to be frank it was a bit intoxicating for you. He didn’t say anything as he sat next to you. You knew what he wanted, what he was thinking. You knew he wanted to know about the nightmares but at the same time he didn't want to pry.

“ i’m sorry. I know that if I asked you, you would have listened and tried to help. I didn't want to bother anyone with my problems. Everyone that day lost someone they cared about, I'm not special because I lost my parents. This is my burden and my burden alone. But these nightmares that invade my head are slowly killing me” you paused, finally looking over at Fred. He sat with tears in his eyes, a few of your own fell down your cheek at the sight. 

“Every night I watch him kill them. I watch as the light dies in their eyes. Every night I'm back at the battle. Every Night i hear the deafening screams of everyone there”  shaking your head as you quickly wiped your face, taking a deep breath.

Fred grabbed your hands in his own “I’m sorry you felt like you had to go through this alone but you're being too hard on yourself. It is okay to grieve your parents and our friends. It's okay to be sad. It's all okay but what's not okay is letting these feelings destroy you. I'm here for you, everyone in this house is here for you, but I'm here whether it be at 2 in the afternoon or 2 in the morning.” 

You pulled Fred into a hug and whispered a thank you as he gripped you tighter. 

The summer day continued as normal. The boys decided to play little mini quidditch games while you, Ginny, Hermione and George’s (she is not my girlfriend!) girlfriend Angelina sat out sunbathing watching them play. A letter from Charlie had arrived in the afternoon insisting that he needed Molly and Aurther to come out for something very important though he didn't say what it was. This led to Molly giving us all a very stern talking about how we needed to be on our best behavior, absolutely no funny business, to not burn down the house and they would be back in a day or two. 

As the evening approached Ron helped Harry set up something called a projector so that we could watch some movies outside around a fire. George had brought out some whiskey to sip on and this is where things started to get a little awkward for you. Only 4 blankets were set up. One for each couple and apparently one for you and Fred to share. 

After this morning, Fred was keeping an even closer eye on you than before. Being around him on a day to day basis was hard enough but now you're just in a constant state of butterflies and embarrassment. He's caught you staring like a dozen times today and now you had to sit next to him and act like everything was fine while the couples paid more attention to each other than the movie. 

You tried to make yourself comfortable but nothing was working. Even tried to lay down but your arm kept falling asleep. Eventually you gave up and just pulled your knees up to wrap your arms around them and lay your head on your knees.

“You can lay your head on me….. If- if you want too” Fred whispered, close enough that you could smell the whiskey on his breath. Hesitant at first but giving in and not moments after you laid your head in his lap that you fell asleep. 

“y/n… y/n'' you jolted awake as Fred said your name. “ Hey you're okay, yeah” He talked low and slow as he tucked some hair behind your ear. Finally sitting up and looking around, the movie was still playing and only George and Angelina were gone. 

“What happened?” 

“You were starting to whimper and saying no over and over again and you had a pretty good grip on my - umm- my thigh” 

“Oh.. Im sorry” that was all you could say, you knew it was because of the nightmare. “Its okay”

“I think I should go to bed” you blurted out

“Yeah, yeah sure I'll walk you up” Fred said as he stood and reached his hands out to help you up.

You just stood there for a moment while you stared down at your now intertwined hand before looking up at him. His lips were already formed in an admiring smile which you copied before setting your other hand just above his wrist and setting your head on his upper arm. Fred leaned down and kissed the top of your head “come on”

Fred only let go of your hand when you got to the stairs to allow you to go up first. Your courage began to build with each step up you took, finally at the top you stopped and turned on your heel to face Fred. Almost face to face with him but even with you on higher ground he was still taller. Your eyes flickering between his and his lips. Steadily bringing your hands up to his face before planting your lips on his. He was definitely taking back but quickly recovered and his hands gripped your hips and pulled you closer to him.

Both only stopping because oxygen was much needed. Slowly you open your eyes only to see Fred's got this shit eating grin plastered across his face. You laughed “what?”

“Oh nothing, you know you should just feel so lucky to have been able to kiss me”

“FRED!” you smacked his chest as he erupted in laughter before putting his hands in the arm in defense  “Im kidding! Only kidding”

“Can I stay with you tonight?” you say in a hushed tone

“Of course you can sweets”

“Mhm sweets? I kinda like it” 

“ oh yeah? Well I would call you that all the time if you were mine” Fred stated matter-of-factly. You set your hands on each side of his neck “Promise?” 

“Promise” he repeated back to you as he lifted you up causing you to let out a yelp and wrap your legs around him. He slowly made his way to his door before opening it and stepping inside. Shutting and locking it before leaning over the bed, laying you on your back. 

He gave you a few more small kisses before taking off his shirt and laying next to you and pulling you close to him. 

 You couldn’t believe this was happening but you were more than ecstatic. Maybe now those nightmares would stop, maybe now you wouldn't dread going to bed. Maybe now everything would be okay. Still with your head on his exposed chest you thanked him for everything and that if this was actually happening that he would always be enough for you just the way he was because he was now your sweet boy. 

“Always my sweets” was the last thing spoken before sleep took both of you.

[starlight-starwrites]

That was suppose to be on anon so ignore that last one Marcus growing up and I'm high school going to art museums with a shy girl who doesn't talk much and he developed a crush on her

i saw this and said ‘perfect. lets get some soft pining marcus pike up in this bitch’ and then i did. i think. (and trust me im def ignoring you. idk who you are). ((and im not saying that the reason marcus works in the ART department is bec of his first love, but...that’s exactly what i’m saying)).

-marcus still remembers you from time to time, even though its been, what? 25 years since he last saw you? he’s been through one divorce, one rushed and broken engagement. he doesn’t even want to think about the failed girlfriends. yet he still thinks about you.

-he’s always been a romantic, a sensitive kid. he gave the bullies in school as good as he got, but he had a kind soul.

-he blames that very soul for the reason he can’t seem to stop thinking about you.

-you had gone to elementary school together. then middle school. he wasn’t even sure at first, but then, yes, he saw you in high school too.

-the two of you knew each other and were friendly, always saying a passing hello when you saw each other, not afraid to goof around together after school with a few friends. but he never really knew you.

-he guessed your favorite color from your backpack and the shoes you wore almost every day. you knew your favorite band in middle school when it seemed like all your friends could talk about. he knew the park that you would hang out at with your friends because he hung out there too. on the other side. with his friends.

-he always wanted to know more. wished that you wanted to know him too. but he didn’t know how to talk to you.

-you were quiet, though not nearly as sensitive as some people made you out to be. when you were younger, bullies had often gotten bored of you, and instead of being a target, you were usually left behind. you didn’t let it bother you, content with your books and your art and the few friends you actually liked.

-you remember marcus, the brave boy who couldn’t bear to see others being put down. you decided you liked him. he was nice to you, smiled in the hallways. sometimes you liked to think he liked you, but you chalked it off as wishful thinking.

-marcus really wished he could have told you he liked you. but he was awkward, and gangly teenager, and surely someone as pretty and smart like you wouldn’t be impressed. but when you were both in high school, and he...accidentally asked you out, he could have punched himself when he saw how easily you agreed to it.

-you had been in english class, were supposed to be working on a group project when somehow the subject of art had come up. he noticed the way your eyes flashed and a smile tugged at your lips, and next thing he knew he was nudging you into talking about what you thought, and you mentioned one of your favorite artists, and that jogged his memory.

-his mom had gotten some flier in the mail, some discount on museum admission. he remembered because she stuck it to the fridge saying the family should go and he rolled his eyes at the thought of being dragged around an art museum with his sisters and his parents over the weekend.

-but suddenly the thought of walking around a museum didn’t sound so unappealing. before he knew it he was telling you about it, saying maybe ‘we could check it out sometime. it sounds cool.’

-he wanted to hit himself. sounds cool. how dumb was he?

-but then you were smiling, tucking your hair behind your ear and agreeing. he couldn’t believe it. by the end of the day, the two of you already agreed on a day and time to meet. he didn’t want to have to ask his parents for a ride (he didn’t have his license yet but he sure as hell wasn’t driving you and his dad) but then he said ‘bike’ and you had just gotten a new one and it seemed like fate.

-you had thought about hesitating when marcus mentioned going to the museum together but...it was marcus. you’ve technically known each other since you were five. and maybe you really wanted to do something cool like this. was it a date? were you just friends? you didn’t even care at this point, it was progress.

-when marcus makes it home after school, he runs straight to his room, busy with ‘homework.’ he looks up the museum immediately, writes down the names of the displayed artists and looks them up too. he knows you take this stuff seriously, and if he finally has this chance to impress you, he’s not going to waste it.

-late that night when he satisfied he’s got a good background on anything that could come up, he remembers its only wednesday.

-next day in class he makes sure to sit directly next to you, unofficially assigned seats be damned. it’s a little gesture, but it speaks volumes. and when he walks out with you to your next class you think about it for the rest of the day.

-the two of you see each other in class, between classes as the next two days pass. neither of you are counting down the time til saturday afternoon. definitely not.

-when the time arrives, and marcus pulls up on your driveway, he finally feels the nerves. sure, he was nervous before, but it was excitement too. now the settling panic of going up to your house and talking to you was too much. but then he sees you coming from the garage, walking your bike next you and wearing the cutest smile he’s ever seen.

-and a dress. a really nice dress. well, casual enough, but you look nice and he thinks he tries to tell you that but it doesn’t come out right because you’re laughing at him, but then you say he looks nice too, and he feels underdressed now, but you’re already getting on your bike and adjusting your skirt and looking at him with a smile before asking “ready?”

-he has to put a lot of effort into not sounding like a loon. he settles for a smile and a “sure.”

-in retrospect, he should have considered that the place would be packed today. there was a flier that went out to the whole town for goodness sake. and its a saturday. in fairness, the line to enter didn’t take too long, but there certainly were a lot of awkward pauses in conversation that made it feel longer. you had your hands clasped in front of you. he kept his in his pockets.

-the exhibits were fine. he could tell you appreciated them, went up to inspect every single one. sometimes he joined you. sometimes he stepped back and appreciated you.

-he jumped in too, tried to bring up something he had studied. you smiled at him every time, even when he got it wrong. and it didn’t matter, because then you came right back and told him everything, explained it better than he had ever heard it.

-you talked to him and he would never forget it. with each piece, each fact you shared he felt like he knew you better. there was never an awkward silence after that.

-when you finally reached the new exhibit, it was packed. the two of you stood at the entryway for a few minutes, hoping that the crowd would thin. when only more people shoved their way in, you looked ready to give up.

-you offered to move on, take one last loop around before leaving. marcus wouldn’t have any of it. you wanted to see the display, it was a collection of female painters from europe, and he was going to make sure you did. besides, he couldn’t deny he had an ulterior motive.

-he reached over to grab your hand, clasping it tightly in his, before he gave you a boyish grin and dragged you in. he pulled you through the throng of people, making sure you were with him the whole time, getting you up close.

-he stood at your back as you looked, keeping you close and protected. you stood there, a hand still in his, and you didn’t even see the painting. all you could do was think about him. surely this was a date?

-he asks you about the paintings. you tell him the bare minimum and hope it’s okay. he’s been so great the whole day, you never even realized he liked the same things you did.

-you spend another half hour in just the one room, looking over each piece. he tries to share something again, but he got the name of the painter wrong. you correct him, but he doesn’t even care because you’re still holding his hand.

-you keep talking after that day. he comes after school to the art club sometimes, you take a history class together. trips to museums become a more regular thing, and so does going to dinner. he kisses you at your back door, runs away as soon as he knows you’re in safe. he remembers things were good.

-he had decided in middle school he loved you, but he swore he fell even harder that day.

-but he also remembers it doesn’t last. first you move, then he does too. there had been a couple of phone calls, but it just wasn’t the same. he actually considers art school for a time, but between knowing his parents disapproval and his skills as an artist, he takes a different path, and art classes are just his elective. still he wonders if you went.

-even now he remembers you fondly. your ‘no care’ attitude on the outside, yet how deeply you cared on the inside. maybe it’s the idea of a first love that he keeps coming back to, even though he knows he doesn’t know you now. you come up in his mind, unbidden yet still welcome.

-he’s working when he sees you again. he’s been called to the national gallery of art--there’s been suspicions surrounding the transfer of an incoming painting from the louvre--and you’re there. you’re standing there, working, and he doesn’t even know what to think.

-you look as though you’ve barely changed. older sure, and your hair is different, you dress differently too. but he knows the shape of your face, the quirk of your lips. you even stand the same way, that little lean and jut of your hip.

-he doesn’t even realize he’s just standing there smiling at your profile until he hears someone call his name. and that’s when you notice him. you have only known one ‘marcus pike’ in your life, but you are surprised to hear it prefixed by ‘agent’.

-you see his back--broad shoulders in a trim suit, brown hair that is kept neat, but longer than the marcus you knew. he turns finally, and you see the beard. you can’t even be sure. there are some similarities to the boy you knew but...you meet his eyes.

-it’s him. it’s definitely him. you see the museum director still talking to him, but he’s smiling at you. you can’t help but smile back. you really hope he’s listening, because your employer is not very forgiving.

-your attention is taken away soon enough, but as soon as you both have a moment, he striding to you and you turn to him. he says your name like a question, as though he can’t believe its you. you respond with an amused “marcus” and it’s enough for him.

-he goes for a hug, and you happily meet him. then you’re both asking each other so many questions at once, neither of you can get a word in. its all laughs and smiles, and you learn that not is he just an agent, but an fbi agent in the art department. it might be the sexiest job you’ve heard of, right behind archeology.

-you tell him about yourself, how you’ve been in dc for the last 10 years, how you got this dream job restoring the famous works you had so admired. he’s proud of you, he says so. you don’t know how to ask if he has a family. surely he does.

-marcus finds himself looking at your hands all too often, but they’re blocked by the clipboard you hold. it feels so easy to talk to you again, even after all these years. as though you were the sort of friends that couldn’t be separated by time. when he finally catches a glance at your left hand, he feels relief when he doesn’t see a ring. it may not mean too much, but its something.

-he suggests lunch and you agree. you talk about work, the city, your pasts. it feels like putting on an old jacket that still fits. broken in and familiar. for the first time since his move to dc, marcus feels hope. if all the heartbreak he’d endured, all the blood and sweat he put into his job had gotten him nothing but a new, empty apartment maybe he’d still feel like he did. but now he knows you’re in dc, and he can’t help but think it’s fate.

[dessarious]

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt79

So again sorry for the plot bunny, I have absolutely no idea where I’m going with it either.

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

Marinette felt the transformation drop and her mind went completely blank for a moment. She felt Discorde and Viperion hold on to her and ended up with an arm around each while they used their arms like a chair for her. . None of the other heroes noticed since they were still shouting at one another. It took her a moment to notice the new person in front of her.

The woman looked to be in her late twenties and about Chloe’s height. Her hair was black with red highlights. The outfit she wore seemed extremely familiar. The dress was a sort of tiger stripe pattern only with red instead of orange and jagged edges. Her thigh high boots were red until the knees and gray after that. It wasn’t until she saw the pink tulle under the skirt that she realized it was an outfit she’d designed but never made. When the woman stopped glaring at Superman to lock eyes with Marinette she felt her breath catch as she looked into clear blue eyes.

“Tikki?” She felt Discorde and Viperion start in surprise but couldn’t take her eyes off the woman giving her a gentle smile.

“Plagg had his fun, now it’s my turn.”

“I shouldn’t have put the Miracle Box in my Yoyo.” Tikki just grinned at her and Marinette groaned internally. By forcing her to detransform with the box still inside, Tikki was able to tap into the energy from that realm making them much more powerful. Tikki just grinned at her before turning to face the Justice League.

“I think we should have popcorn for this.” Robin’s voice only got an eye roll as she focused on her Kwami. She had no idea what Tikki was up to but the fact that they took human form said it was big.

“That’s enough!” Tikki’s voice was lower than normal and echoed around the room becoming louder until everyone shut up. Then it just stopped. “I find it rather amusing that you’re so hung up on my Chosen’s age when you all insist on acting like children.”

“How dare you--” Tikki snapped their fingers and Superman was cut off by what looked like a metal plate sealing his mouth shut.

“You really need to learn some manners. Now it’s time for you all to listen.” No one spoke and Tikki gave a satisfied smile. “Better. First things first. I want you all to take a good long look at my Chosen and Guardian of the Miraculous.” Marinette felt everyone’s eyes on her and had to fight the urge to make herself smaller. Instead she held her head high while they studied her.

“I still see nothing but an incompetent child.” Tikki snapped her fingers again and Green Lantern met the same fate as Superman.

“If I want your input, I’ll ask for it.” Tikki gave them a bright smile that was honestly a bit creepy. “That child has been protecting Paris almost on her own for two years. During the final confrontation with Hawkmoth that child gave up the ability to walk in order to end his reign of terror. While you’ve all done nothing but make her job more complicated, she’s been working tirelessly to bring down a lunatic. The next one of you that demeans her will feel the full force of Discorde’s wrath and I won’t reverse the damage.”

Quite a few members paled at that threat and Marinette glanced over to see a rather manic smile on her girlfriend’s face. She shuddered at the thought of what she might do. Everyone was completely silent as Tikki let that thought settle.

“Still, you can’t expect us to leave such powerful artifacts in the hands of children.” Tikki narrowed her eyes at Martian Manhunter before offering another fake smile.

“I am a god older than the universe itself. They may be young but we are not.” Marinette could see the hero hesitate and winced when he finally decided to speak.

“Your will is bound to the Miraculous. The children are the ones in charge and should the Miraculous fall into the wrong hands your power becomes a liability.” Tikki studied him for a moment before letting out a sigh.

“You’re all far too concerned with age but I suppose we could fix that if it will make you feel better.” Marinette shared confused looks with her team. How was Tikki planning on fixing them being kids? Most of the League members looked just as confused but Wonder Woman was frowning in thought.

“What exactly do you plan to fix?” The words sounded like they were being dragged out of the hero that seemed to have become their spokesman. Tikki’s smile turned condescending.

“Your problem is with my Chosen’s age, not experience or intelligence as would be at least more appropriate. As such,” they snapped their fingers again and suddenly four more twenty something’s appeared behind her. “I present you with guardians for the Guardian.”

-------------------------------------

Discorde studied the four new people with annoyance. It was her job to protect Mari and these interlopers weren’t wanted. She was a bit confused when she felt Plagg trying to soothe her.

The four of them were all completely different. On either side of Tikki were a man and woman. One man was wearing an all black designer suit. His shirt, tie, and all other accessories were the same shade as well. His hair was even darker somehow. Next to him was a woman in a white sundress and sandals. Her hair was blonde but gave the impression of sunlight. They were both the same height as Tikki. Both also had one green eye and one brown, but on opposite sides.

On Tikki’s other side was a man at least seven foot tall. He was wearing brown khakis and a blue, short sleeve button up. Both looked starched and pressed to perfection. His brown hair was buzzed on the sides and he gave off a decidedly special forces vibe. His arm rested on the head of the woman next to him who couldn’t be more than five foot tall. She was in full steampunk gear. For their eyes each had one vibrant blue and one gray that reminded Discorde of storm clouds. Again on opposite sides. The longer her gaze rested on the short woman the louder Plagg’s giggling got in her head.

“And who are they exactly? The last thing we need is more amateurs in the field.” Tikki’s grin turned feral. She gestured the pair with green and brown eyes forward.

“Allow me to introduce you. This is Jett, Kwami of Darkness and Primm, Kwami of Light.” He bowed and she curtsied before Tikki waved the other two forward.  “And this is Digg, Kwami of Order and Lyccen, Kwami of Anarchy. They are not bound to Miraculous and as such aren’t liabilities like the rest of us.” Having his words thrown back at him seemed to shut him up for the moment but Superman started making exaggerated gestures. Tikki let out an annoyed sigh before snapping again and removing the gags from him and Green Lantern.

“You can’t just release entities like that on this plane with no way to control them!” All five of the Kwami rolled their eyes.

“First, giving them human forms limits their powers, much like the Miraculous do. Second, control was your major objection to the rest of us. Third, if they become a problem it’s a simple fix. I created their bodies so Plagg can destroy them.” Everyone in the room flinched except the Kwami themselves.

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[ayanna-wild]

A Place To Call Home

Word Count: 1557

Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Warnings: angst, possible trigger, fluff

A/N: Request from anonymous, And thank you all so much for being so supportive, screw the haters, you guys are amazing and I truly couldn't ask for better readers!

Tag list and Request are open!

Summary: He seldom came to this part of the city, where the people who resided would sooner rob him then help him. But he had a favor to collect on. While he waited to cross the street, he notices a small crowd of people and there you are at the center, torn clothes, dirty, and giving away all the money you had just collected from the crowd who had bought your art. He can't help but be curious and you soon find a persistent devil tailing after you. Wondering why you gave everything when it was clear you had nothing. 

..................................................................................

Lucifer sighed as he stood impatiently on the sidewalk. This light always seemed to take so long to change, with how old it looked he was surprised it even functioned at all anymore. He'd have crossed the street already, light be damned, if he didn't think someone might run him over. He wouldn't put it past anyone in this part of the city. Most watched him like greedy vultures, waiting for his demise, so they could swoop in and collect from his misery.

A small crowd of people gathered around someone who was sitting on a blanket. He didn't think much of it, they'd been there a while. He turned his attention back to the light, just in time to see it flicker before fizzing out all together. 

"Oh bloody hell." 

Lucifer glared at the wretched thing, looking both ways to see if he could safely cross. He wouldn't even be here if the Detective hadn't asked him to use one of his favors. He was beginning to regret agreeing. He'd been seconds from stepping off the broken concrete, and onto the street when he threw one last glance over his shoulder. The crowd had dispersed, and he saw the person at the center was now gathering their blanket. He watched you closely as you walked a few feet down, handing the cup of money in your hand to an elderly woman.

The two of you seemed to argue for a moment, but ultimately it seemed you won and you draped the worn blanket you carried over her shoulders. Lucifer watched you walk away curiously before changing his direction. He approached the older woman with a kind smile.

"Excuse me, do you know who that was?" He asked politely.

She regarded him closely for a moment, almost suspiciously.

"I do. What's it to you?" 

Lucifer smiled at the woman's attempt to be intimidating.

"I simply wish to ask her a few things is all."

He held his hands up, trying to show her he meant no harm to her or you.

"Her name is Y/N, she lives not far from here." 

"And does she do that often? Give her money away like that?" 

The woman shrugged, peering into the cup you'd given her.

"Yes, sometimes to me, sometimes to other people, I always tell that girl not to worry about me. She's worse off than I am. I've got my coat for the winter, but she insists on giving away her stuff. Her hard-earned money, she's talented, if her situation was different she'd have made a name for herself by now."

Lucifer was even more intrigued now, and he glanced down the street.

"There's a soup kitchen close by, poor funding but it provides at least three meals a week. Hardly anything, but it's enough to keep some skin on her bones."

Lucifer frowned a little at that, and the elderly lady began to gather her stuff.

"It's the alley by the old deli, you can't miss it, she's draped this old blue tarp over a few crates. Bit rough, but it gets the job done." 

Lucifer thanked the woman before going on his way. He looked around the area, searching for the place she had described. He found you, placing an unused trashed bag over a hole in your tarp. You didn't notice him lingering as you taped the bag down.

"Not exactly a five-star hotel is it?"

You jumped at the sound of his voice, turning to face him with unease. Lucifer took a step into the alley, making you take one back.

"Maybe not, but it does the trick."

He watched you shiver, saw the goosebumps on your skin as you stood there.

"I don't have any drawings left to sell if that's why you're here."

Lucifer looked around the place you called home.

"You don't have much of anything by the looks of it." He hummed.

Your unease was gone, replaced instead by annoyance and you crossed your arms. 

"It's better than what I had before... where I was before." 

Lucifer frowned, tilting his head.

"Anyway, if you're just here to comment on my living situation than kindly fuck off." 

Your words were bitter, a stark contrast to the actions you had displayed earlier. Lucifer walked closer to you, but you didn't seem as hesitant this time.

"I apologize that was rather rude of me, I assure you that isn't why I'm here."

"Then why are you?" You looked at him skeptically, like you didn't trust his words.

"I suppose your act of selflessness quipped my curiosity so, I've come to ask you why." 

You looked at him confused and a little lost, and he continued, further explaining himself.

"You gave that woman all the money you made, from those drawings I'm assuming you spent hours making. Then you gave her your blanket, which by the looks of things was your only source of warmth for the winter, despite how tattered the thin fabric was. I simply wish to know why that is. Why share everything when you have nothing to give?" 

You stared at him a moment, studying him as you tried to gauge if maybe he had ulterior motive beyond his question. However, it seemed he really was just curious.

"Her name is Edrsia, she's almost seventy-years-old. She's not on the streets by choice, her son took everything she had and pawned it off. Her husband passed years before, and she couldn't afford even a shoe box size apartment. She helped me, when I first started living on the streets. So, I give her what I can, whether I can spare it or not."

You expected him to be satisfied with your answer, maybe even leave you alone, but your response seemed to have the opposite effect.

"Yes but why? From what I can tell you're barely making it yourself. I simply cannot fathom why you'd give up what little you do have. Just because she helped you once, that hardly means you should risk your own well-being to return such a small act."

You smiled a little, offering a small shrug.

"I guess because it's just the human thing to do. I don't need a good reason to help someone, just a reason."

Lucifer pondered over your answer silently and you glanced back towards your makeshift tent.

"It's supposed to rain tonight, I really should-"

"Would you like a place to stay for a while?"

You almost tripped over yourself when you heard that.

"What?"

"Not for free of course, you see I rather like your art, and my bar could use a bit of...artistic flare."

You suspicion didn't go unnoticed by the handsome man, and he gave you a charming smile.

"The choice is yours, I'm merely offering you a warm place and a small job."

You mulled it over, he didn't come off as the type of person to play a joke this cruel. Yet, you suspected he had some underlining goal to this.

"What do you get out of this?"

Lucifer grinned, your question making him like you all the more.

"It's been my experience that humans can be rather selfish creatures, very few offer any real selflessness. If nothing else you can at least teach me a bit more about this side of humanity."

The deal seemed almost too good to be true, and a part of you wanted to refuse. But your shaking hands and the numbness in your limbs told you that you couldn't afford to be stubborn, not unless you wanted to freeze to death.

"Okay."

"Marvelous! Then if we have a deal-"

You shook your head, not moving to shake his outstretched hand.

"Not yet. I'm only agreeing if you help Edrsia, she doesn't have good health, she can't survive another year out here." 

Lucifer once again seemed surprised, but he nodded regardless.

"Consider it done, now do we have a deal?"

This time you did shake his hand, and let out a yelp when he tugged on your arm pulling you to his side. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, leading you down the street.

"Goodness you're chilled to the bone darling, here take this."

Lucifer released you to remove his jacket, but you shook your head looking almost ashamed.

"I live on the streets, showers aren't a luxury I can afford."

He ignored your protest draping the material over your shoulders, despite your words you quickly pulled it tighter around you.

"I don't mind my dear, it's not your fault."

You looked up at him smiling a bit.

"Thank you... I never got your name."

"Oh dear how rude of me to skip introductions, my name is Lucifer Morningstar."

"It's nice to meet you Lucifer, I'm Y/N."

He raised an eyebrow, but the smile never left his lips.

"No last name?" He inquired.

"Does it matter?" 

He hummed a little at your answer but didn't pry.

"I suppose not, well come on love, let's get you out of the cold."

You didn't argue when he placed a hand on your back, and you fought back grateful tears. Lucifer watched you from the corner of his eye, a soft smile on his lips, his heart swelling at the hope in your eyes.

Maybe you could teach the devil a thing or two about the better side of humanity.

..................................................................................

Tag List: @sallyp-53 @mizzezm @adira-secrets @we-are-all-alittle-strange-here @gingernarwal @im-just-along-for-the-ride @lifeshortbro @star-trek-is-my-lifesource @measure-in-pain @emiwrites3reads

[medicifm]

*  not  me  actually  writing  an  intro  the  night  before  like  i  always  mean  to  😳  hennyway  hey  biddies  ,  i'm  chloe  ,  im  in  the  snowy  part  of  pst  ,  &  i  use  she / her  pns  .  i’ve  been  . . . . . . .  scouring  the  tags  for  an  rp  like  this  so  im  so  excited  to  bring  this  newish  muse  of  mine  here  !   im  here to  do  the  honours  of  introducing  my  himbo - on - the outside , manipulative - shit - on - the - inside  . . .  oscar  🤡

(  twenty  three , cis  man , he / him  ) ✉ ― hey  babes , have  you  met  OSCAR  MEDICI ?  they’re  working  here  as  THE  HEAD  CHEF  AT  LORENZO’S ,  a  few  villas  down  from  where  you’re  staying  .  you  might  hear  them  singing  ALRIGHTY  APHRODITE  BY  PEACH  PIT  playing  from  their  villa  ,  it’s  their  favourite  song  .  yes  ,  they  hear  that  they  look  like  JACK  GILINSKY  a  lot  ,  actually  -  it’s  really  uncanny  .  their  friends  back  home  in  SYDNEY , AUSTRALIA  say  that  if  they  were  on  a  tv  show  ,  their  trope  would  be  THE  WOLF  IN  SHEEP’S  CLOTHING  ,  how  funny  is  that  ? ✎ chloe , 22 , she/her , pst

𝐢  .

pinterest  |  wanted  plots  |  

𝐢𝐢  .

name  :  oscar  gabriel  medici

age  :  twenty  three

dob  /  sign  :  december  4th  ,  1997  /  sagittarius  sun  ,  leo  moon  ,  libra  rising 

pob  :  sydney , australia

gender / pronouns  :  cis  man  &  he / him / his

career :  head  chef  at  lorenzo’s  ,  full - time  heathen  ,  professional  disappointment  for  mothers  everywhere  .

drinking / drugs / smoking :  yes / more  often  than  he’d  admit / never .  

religion  :  jewish  background  ,  currently  non - practicing .

physical  :  jack  gilinsky  fc ,  dark  brown / black  longish  curls  (  reference  )  ,  dark  brown  eyes  ,  canon  jack  g’s  tattoos  ,  no  piercings  ,  6′2″  ,  175  lbs  ,  lean  but  strong  .  tattoos  a  la  canon!jack  ,  pearly  white  smile  that  he  may  . . .  or  may  not  . . .   use  crest  3D  white  strips  weekly  to  maintain  .  lots  of  burns  &  scars  from  kitchen  mishaps  on  his  hands  &  arms  .

traits  :  hard - working  ,  flighty  ,  intelligent  ,  hedonistic  ,  charismatic  ,  intense  ,  volatile  ,  

other  :  speaks  weird  french  (  aussie  accent  tings  )  ,  tans  easily  but  wears  sunscreen  nonetheless  ,  works  hard  parties  harder  ,  can’t  read  a  lick  of  french  but  spends  a  lot  of  his  free  time  with  a  coffee  &  a  new  paperback  ,  has  a  bit  of  an  internal  vendetta  against  rich  people  (  for  no  real  reason  ,  he  just  doesn’t  like  most  of  them  )  ,  has  ins  with  a  bunch  the  local  farmers  &  visits  them  weekly  ,  pretends  he  isn’t  lowkey  addicted  to  nicotine  administered  via  a  puff  bar  ,  liquor  of  preference  is  tequila  or  red  wine  ,  drives  a  lil  vespa  around  town  for  the  gag  of  it  (  loves  seeing  it  haphazardly  parked  amongst  a  bunch  of  luxury  cars  )  ,  

character  inspo  :  jess  mariano  (  gilmore  girls  )  , gordon  ramsey  🤡 ,  patrick verona ( 10 things i hate about you ) , ferris bueller ( ferris bueller’s day off ) , han solo ( star wars ) .

𝐢𝐢𝐢  .

oscar’s  arrival  was  as  unwanted  to  his  parents  as  could  be  :  a  father  whose  tendencies  leaned  towards  alcoholism  &  abusing  whoever  was  in  arms  reach  ,  a  mother  whose  life  was  more  or  less  spent  at  the  nursing  home  she  worked  as  a  nurse  at  ,  evading  home  .  he  became  a  self - inflicted  loner  ,  preferring  to  do  literally  the  exact  opposite  of  what  was  expected  or  wanted  from  him  .  he  had  a  few  friends  he  ran  with  ,  but  watching  them  all  go  off  &  study  or  prepare  for  university  solidified  in  oscar’s  mind  that  the  non - traditional  route  was  for  him  .  growing  up  by  the  water  ,  oscar  always  felt  more  drawn  to  skip  school  &  head  to  the  beach  than  he  did  obeying  his  parents  wishes  .   

one  of  his  solaces  was  his  grandfather  ,  gabriel  ,  who  owned  an  italian  restaurant  in  a  beach  town  north  of  sydney  .  whenever  the  weather  was bad  &  oscar  felt  like  ditching  class  ,  he’d  head  over  to  his  nono’s  restaurant  where  his  ass  would  be  put  to  work  as  soon  as  he  set  eyes  on  the  restaurant  .  it  was  tough  work  ,  but  challenging  in  a  way  that  fanned  the  flames  in  oscar’s  heart  ,  rather  than  dimming  them  .  by  the  time  he was  a  teenager  he  was  working  in  the  restaurant  everyday  after  school  , an  agreement  between  him  &  his  grandfather  framed  on  the  back  wall  that  stated  that  as  long  as  oscar  kept  from  flunking  out  ,  he  was  allowed  to  spend  as  little  or  as  much  time  in  the  kitchen  as  he  pleased .  

his  absolute  defiance  of  anything  traditional  &  following  the  rules  made  him  unpopular  with  adults  ,  but  lowkey  cool  with  the  girls  .  by  the  time  he  was  sixteen  ,  he  was  losing  his  focus  on  the  restaurant  &  his  grades  &  spending  more  &  more  time  chasing  after  girls  .  his  nono  tried  to  get oscar  to  come  back  &  focus  ,  but  as  always  ,  anything  he’s  asked  to  do  quickly  becomes  the  thing  he’s  running  from  the  most  .

tw  :  death  ,  cancer  .  around  his  eighteenth  birthday  ,  his  grandfather  suddenly  fell  ill  with  a  rare  form  of  cancer  that  took  his  life  six  weeks  after  diagnosis  ,  which  rocked  oscar’s  world  .  he  felt  overwhelming  guilt  that  he  hadn’t  spent  more  time  with  his  grandfather  ,  which  manifested  itself  as  oscar  dropping  out  of  school  a  year  shy  of  graduation  to  commit  himself  fully  to  perfecting  his  grandfather’s  techniques  ,  learning  all  of  his  recipes  (  read  :  pouring  over  dozens  of  handwritten  cookbooks )  in  some  failed  attempt  to  get  back  some  time  with  him  .  oscar  hadn’t  been  close  with  his  parents  in  years  ,  more  or  less  seeing  them  as  wardens  of  a  prison  he  wanted  nothing  to  do  with  .  his  grandfather’s  will  left  him  the  deed  to  the  restaurant  ,  with  an  ask  that  oscar  would  promise  to  act  on  whatever  he  felt  called  towards  ,  rather  than  doing  what  others  expected  of  him  .  to  be  candid  ,  this  whole  situation  crushed  him  .

eventually  ,  he  decided  he’d  had  enough  of  the  stifling  community  he’d  grown  up  in  .  he  sold  the  restaurant  to  one  of  the  regulars  ,  a  wealthy  man  who  he’d  come  to  acknowledge  as  somewhat  of  an  uncle  ;  a  safe  pair  of  hands  who  would  treat  his grandfather’s  legacy  with  as  much  passion  &  respect  as  oscar  himself  would  .  so  he  packed  a  bag  ,  texted  his  mom  that  he  was  going  traveling  ,  &  got  on  a  flight  that  evening  .  he  traveled  all  around  -  first  through  central  america  ,  then  through  europe  ,  throughout  asia  &  africa  ,  &  spent  a  few  months  driving  a  van  across  the  continental  united  states  &  canada  for  fun  . 

eventually  ,  he  started  getting  low - ish  on  money  ,  &  decided  to  settle  in  one  of  his  favourite  places  he’d  visited  :  southern  france  .  he  arrived  in  early  2018  ,  taking  on  whatever  menial  tasks  he  could  while  learning  french  until  he  got  a  position  as  a  line  cook  in  an  italian  restaurant  .  a  few  years  later  ,  he’s  made  his  way  up  to  filling  the  head  chef  position  ,  an  honour  he  takes  with  pride  .  he’s  implemented  many  of  his  own  recipes  while  using  flavours  he’s  learned  from  his  travels  ,  with  ingredients  straight  from  local  farmers  .  he’s  earned  the  restaurant  a  two michelin  star  rating  ,  &  is  constantly  striving  for  more  to  get  that  last  star  (  both  for  his  own  ego  as  well  as  a  secret  debt  to  his  grandfather  )  .

𝐢𝐯  .

ok  but  that  vid  where  gordon  puts  two  pieces  of  bread  on  someone’s  head  &  calls  them  an  idiot  sandwich  ?  that’s  oscar  .  intense  as  fuck  in  the  kitchen  ,  &  best  nobody  catch  an  attitude  about  it  bc  he  will  not  hesitate  to  hand  them  their  ass  on  a  silver  platter  .

another  gordon  reference  :  you  know  how  he’s  the  spawn  of  satan with  adults  ,  but  the  sweetest  ,  most  helpul  guy  with  children  ?  that’s  oscar  with  his  staff  vs  people  he  wants  something  from  .  whether  its  to  sleep  with  them  (  usually  his  first  instinct  to  be  fair  )  ,  their  money  or  clout  ,  or  to  get  into  some  wild  adventure  some  random  resort  staff  wouldn’t  dream  of  getting  into  ,  he  can  turn  on  the  charm  whenever  needed  .

can  go  from  absolutely  demoralizing  someone  in  the  kitchen  to  stepping  out  into  the  lounge  to  schmooze  with  his  friends  or  cougars  who  leave  phat  tips  in  0.2  seconds  .  the  speed  at  which  his  mood  can  completely  180  is  one  of  the  seven  world  wonders  (  last  i  checked  )  .

his  love  language  is  absolutely  acts  of  service  .  catch  him  actually  falling  in  love  once  in  a  blue  moon  &  making  it  his  mission  to  cook  her  extravagant  meals  everyday  .  

the  wolf  in  sheep’s  clothing  label  epitomizes  his  nice  ,  helpful  ,  charismatic  exterior  ,  while  ulterior  motives  &  disdain  for  those  who  grew  up  with  more  money  than  he  did  lurk  beneath  the  surface  . 

he  can  be  MEAN  when  someone  fucks  him  over  or  pushes  him  farther  than  he  wants  -  isn’t  afraid  to  go  for  the  low  blows  or  send  someone  home  with  an  identity  crisis  if  it  protects  himself  .

lowkey  alcoholic  but  he’s  not  ready  for  that  conversation  yet  .  he  sees  it  more  as  perks  of  the  location  &  atmosphere  he’s  found  himself  in  .

also  lowkey  falls  in  love  HARD  ,  like  this  man  is  a  closeted  romantic  but  self - sabotages  all  potential  relationships  before  they  can  get  to  that  point  out  of  fear  he’ll  be  unable  to  live  life  of  his  own  volition  (  takes  a  flaky  philophobic  sagittarius  to  know  a  flaky  philophobic  sagittarius  🤡  )  .  has  probably  only  had  a  few  real  relationships  besides  flings  bc  he’s  afraid  .

𝐯  .

check  out  my  wanted  plots  tag  listed  here  ,  as  well  as  my  pinterest  wanted  plots  board  here  .  here   are  some  other  suggestions  hehe  :

best  friend  /  ride  or  die  :  someone  who  knows  about  his  past  ,  keeps  him  grounded  when  he’s  lk  spiraling  &  wants  to  drop  everything  &  flee  to  some  far  flung  corner  of  the  earth  .

actual  relationship  :  it  was  fast - burn  with  deep  feelings  (  not  them  thinking  they’re  soulmates  after  dating  for  a  month  . . .  pete  &  ariana  type  beat  )  but  completely  unrealistic  .  they  have  their  own  life  ,  he’s  pretty  much  tied  to  the  restaurant  ,  not  to  mention  his  lack  of  sharing  anything  about  his  childhood / life  back  home  .  they  loved  &  cared  for  each  other  ,  but  crashed  &  burned  fairly  quickly  because  of  how  idealistic  it  was  .  they  can  either  be  on  bad  or  good  terms  now  .

hateship  with  sexual  tension  😈

summer  flings  !!

fake  boyfriend  :  he  shows  up  on  her  arm  to  her  family’s  events  where  she’s  expected  to  have  a  partner  .  it’s  not  a  real  relationship  ,  but  her  parents  don’t  need  to  know  that  .  he  plays  the  part  &  satisfies  her  parents  beyond  the  bare  minimum  ,  &  in  return  she  invites  him  to  parties  ,  takes  him  out  on  her  family’s  yacht  ,  etc  etc  .  we  luv  some  symbiosis  

i  can  always  use  more  fwbs  hehehe

squad  :  a  group  of  people  who  do  everything  together  ,  have  a  chaotic  group  chat  ,  have  nicknames  for  one  another  ,  are  utd  on  each  other’s  sex  lives  ,  party  all  night  then  show  up  to  brunch  hungover  together  .  

cat  &  mouse  :  someone  he’s  pursuing  who  isn’t  quite  giving  in  ,  &  vice  versa  .  maybe  it’s  been  going  on  a  few  years  ,  everytime  they’re  in  st  tropez  they  have  this  weird  lil  flirtationship  thing  goin  on  until  she  leaves  ,  they  forget  about  one  another  ,  then  pick  it  right  back  up  when  she  returns  .

confidant  :  preferably  someone  from  a  working  class  background  who  understands  his  plight  of  being  a  worker  amongst  people  who  expect  to  be  waited  on  .

enemies  :  they  don’t  like  his  attitude  ,  &  he  doesn’t  like  them  in  return  .  lots  of  eye  rolls  ,  shit  talking  ,  &  tension  between  their  mutual  friends  .

we’re  sleeping  together  but  we  shouldn’t  be  but  that’s  half  the  fun :  for  whatever  reason  they  became  friends  ,  starting  hooking  up  despite  it  not  being  a  good  idea  (  read  :  he’s  exes  with  one  of  her  friends  ,  her  parents  want  her  focused  on  career  ,  they’re  part  of  the  same  friend  group  ,  etc )  . . . but  now  they  can’t  stop  .  lots  of  stolen  glances  across  rooms  ,  squeezing  past  one  another  in  a  crowded  club  just  close  enough  for  a  quick  touch  to  the  back  ,  quietly  leaving  one  another’s  places  the  morning  after  &  playing  dumb  to  anyone  who  asks  . 

[long-bodyswap]

Yotta Life

(Im sorry I don’t have the credits, but if you know the author you can @)

It’s been an adjustment lately getting used to all this fame and attention since Adele’s new album came out.  The whole world knew it would be huge, but even the most optimistic among us couldn’t have imagined that it would have the best selling first week sales of any album in history!  With massive, iconic numbers like that, it was only natural that she would need more security while she goes on her whirlwind press promo, and I’m the best in the business- ermmm- I mean technically my host, Peter Van der Veen is the best in the business, but it’s not like anyone could tell the difference since the spell I used gave me access to all of his memories, training, and personality traits.  No one has suspected a thing, and I’ve been inside Peter since he was Lady Gaga’s bodyguard!Possessing the top bodyguard for the stars has been a dream come true because I’ve met and spent time with almost all of my idols.  Gaga is much more normal in private than people give her credit for, but my favorite client so far has been Adele, BY FAR.  Never have I ever met such a witty, sweet, funny as shit, monumentally talented, and down to earth person.  Rumor has it she used to be quite the drinker before she had her baby, but every now and then she’s whipped out a little reward for the road with her team, meaning I was naturally drawn into the fun.  IIt’s been simply remarkable getting to know Adele and honestly consider her a friend.  She’s so honest and personable that I catch myself shifting out of Peter’s stern persona, dropping sass and giggling to her jokes.  I remind myself often that it’s only acceptable around Adele, but anyone who had previously known Peter would be immensely suspicious.  Still, it’s been the single most meaningful (and lucrative) gig I’ve ever done. You can see that I try my hardest to remain stern and serious.  It’s so hard because even her commentary during casual conversation is adorable and hilarious enough to make a stone gargoyle let out a good chuckle.  Sometimes it honestly is too much and I can’t help but smile and join in the silliness.  It’s comforting at least to know that Peter’s smile looks so fucking sexy- almost as sexy as his stern smolder.  

The bulk of the promo circuit ended in December so now that it’s January 2016, I finally have some time to myself.  Adele thanked me profusely for my service and friendship and begged me to free up my schedule so I could join her when her tour starts in April.  I promised her I’d lock in the dates, but it’s going to be nice to have some time to have fun behind closed doors…At the very least it’ll be nice to show off this body.Fuck, what a great day.  I’m rocking this perfect bronze and I can finally show off this sculpted body.  I work ridiculously hard to keep it up to Peter’s standards, but it’s so worth it.  Peter’s body looks sexy as hell in a suit, but it was meant to be seen and envied by others.  And the Adele gig was so lucrative that I’m set to be enjoying the next four months shirtless and glistening at this Mexican resort.  I used this morning to do a power workout of sprints and chest interval training in a nearby canyon, and then I rewarded myself with a nice afternoon spent relaxing at the beach.Peter’s sore muscles always made me horny for some reason, which meant that I was on edge almost all day every day…I didn’t mind though.  It reminded me of how powerful and full of my vitality my host was.  What I did mind though was burning in this hot sun.   Noticing a cute boy eyeing me, I saw an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.  The adorable fucker looked about my real age, but way better looking, not that that mattered since I was inhabiting Mr. Europe 2005.  Being bisexual, I’ve been able to use Peter’s body to anonymously fuck around with hotties from all over the world, but I’ve gotta say I’ve developed a strong preference for boys, so let’s test the waters and see if this kid wants a taste of the premier bodyguard to the stars.“Hey, kid.” I said in a deep, yet friendly tone.  “You got a sec to help me out with something?”  I made sure to flash him a subtle smile, also pulling my shades down so he could see the twinkle in my beautiful eyes.   It only took me a second to realize I had him hook, line, and sinker.That big smile was one thing, but I had also completely stopped him in his tracks.  He was walking back over to me without a single hesitation. “What can I do for you?” The chap asked with a friendly tone that was masking what I, after maaaanyy similar encounters, knew was lust.“You see, I’m going to start burning soon, so could you help me with a fresh layer of sunblock?”He kept his jaw from dropping, but I knew he was shocked and ecstatic.   “You mean, on your back?” He asked, treading cautiously.“Actually, I was hoping you could help me with the whole thing,” I said, pointing out my sculpted chest and abs before biting my lip in a fake show of nervous anticipation.  

The boy paused to think for a second before smiling again and walking over.  “Sure, I’d love to help out,” he said in a  way that tried to make it sound like he was just doing a normal favor for a stranger.  

I grinned in relief before putting my shades back on and getting out my tube of sunblock.  I laid down, making sure to get comfortable before I took a second to adjust my junk since I was about a quarter hard from the sheer testosterone pumping through my veins.  

“Sorry about that,” I said before getting relaxed again.  “Had a brutal workout this morning.  Always gets the testosterone flowing, if you know what I mean.”“I could tell you had a good workout this morning.  You’ve got the pumped look.  Maybe you can share some workout tips- I’m trying to bulk up, but it’s been kinda hard.”“Son, you don’t need to add a single pound of mass.  The lean look is really sexy on you.”  I said that right as he popped the cap open, making him blush before he squeezed a healthy helping of that cream into his hands.  

“That’s easy for you to say,” he said before slathering that cream on my abs.  I shivered and gasped from the cold, tightening my core from the surprise, but he kept talking.  “Especially when you have a body like this.”As far as I could tell, he had no idea who I was, so it was safe to see if I could push his buttons a little.As he spread the cream over Peter’s ripped abs, I quietly moaned from the feeling of those smooth fingers rubbing that coconut scented goodness into my stolen skin.  The look on this boy’s face was one of inner conflict.  He didn’t know if he should go a little further, but he finally got my subtle hint and began rubbing me more purposefully until he was giving my abs a slow and deep massage.  

“You have…so much definition,” he marveled as he worked his strong fingers more and more expertly.   “mmmmmmm that feels so good, kid.  Guess you could tell that yesterday was ab day,”  By this point his constant touch had me more than half hard.  He definitely noticed my long and thick cock growing in my shorts, but he didn’t back away.  He started massaging me even more purposefully, sensually even.  Damn, this kid had some kink in him.  

“And I’d bet money you did a chest day today,” he said slowly and smoothly as he began working his magical hands up to my muscular slabs of pec perfection.  I moaned louder this time as he worked his hands up to my chest so he was grabbing a pec with each hand, squeezing firmly enough to loosen up those stiff muscles.  He squeezed harder, massaging my sore chest and making me groan in a mix of ecstasy and agony.  I was shocked though as he, without stopping his deep tissue chest massage, began to gently flick and rub my nipples with his thumbs.  I inhaled deeply, feeling my cock twitch and continue to engorge as this boy worked Peter’s incredibly sensitive nipples.  My breathing picked up, getting slightly faster before this kid made his big move.  I gasped loudly as he leaned down and began sucking on one of my nipples before reaching the other hand down to rub my cock through my shorts, making it pulsate and swell to full hardness.  

“Unnnngggg,” I groaned as I looked down at this cutie with thick, bushy eyebrows give in to his hunger for cock, specifically my cock.  I gasped again as he gripped my cock through the shorts, feeling the thickness of my girth and the obvious length before smiling, apparently satisfied with Peter’s thick 8.5 inches.   “If you wanted me, you should have just said so,” he whispered seductively into my ear.  

I knocked the big tube of sunscreen onto the sand before grabbing him and pulling him on top of my powerful chest, enjoying the weight of his body against my greased up chest.  I brought my mouth to his and he eagerly opened as I locked our lips and brought our tongues into a dance of lust.  Fuck, he tasted so minty.  My rock hard cock pulsated as I humped my crotch up against his, feeling his hard dick rub back against mine as I let us get lost in the lust.   FInally breaking the kiss, I told him, “I have a room,” barely having the breath to make the sentence.  He just smiled before we made a mad dash to pick up our shit and cover our raging hard ons as we ran back to the hotel.   I woke up the next morning alone int he bed except for a little note that had a phone number and the name Zac.  Man, last night was crazy.  I mean, I’ve done some kinky shit with Peter’s body, but I think I blew four of Peter’s loads into that boy last night.  Yeah, there was the load when I was fucking him doggy style.  Then another when I was fucking him missionary.  The third one was when he was riding me.  mmmmm, the last one was my favorite.  I pinned that kid against the wall with my strong arms and bounced him up and down off my powerful thrusts until I finally blew that last load so deep inside him.  On that one things got so intense.  Zac was hollering and almost hyperventilating my cock made him feel so good.  He didn’t even touch his dick that time since he was scratching at the wall the whole time, but his cock still blew a load all over the two of us.  That was about when I hit my limit.  I remember roaring so loud I thought the walls were vibrating before finally, dripping in sweat and muscles and veins bulging all over my body, I blew all of the remaining cum in Peter’s balls so deep into that boy.  When I calmed down, I carried the boy back to the bed and we both laid there making out and squirming from the afterglow of our orgasms before passing out from our multi-hour fuckfest.  

I smirked as I thought to myself how this would be my life for the next four months.  I got up and walked over to mirror, admiring my boxer-clad vessel, still just as high off of the beauty of this stolen body as I was two years ago when I first took Peter over.  

“You’re one sexy man,” I said to the reflection before winking.  God damn, seeing Peter’s body respond to my actions was still so satisfying.  I felt a fluttery sensation deep in my gut before blushing from the sight of the sexy body in front of me.  Mmmmmm yeah, Peter might be a strong and tough man, but I can always make him do whatever I want because he’s powerless with me inside.  

“Don’t ever forget that you’re too weak to resist me.  You couldn’t do a thing to stop my soul from slipping inside you and stealing you,” I taunted his reflection as I leaned his head down to his pit and huffed in his manly sweat and stench from yesterday’s workout and fuckfest.  

“You smell like a real man,” I said with appreciation before I stripped off the boxers and brought them up to my face which instantly scrunched up into one of ecstasy, huffing in the crotch area, almost coughing from the power of the manly muskiness.  It was so fucking masculine and sexy, and it always got me hard.“That turns you on doesn’t it, you kinky queer?” I asked his reflection before I brought my lips to the mirror and pretended to make out with Peter.  My heart sank though as the cold glass reminded me that I was on the other side.  Sure, I could take over some other stud for a night and use my powers to mind control Peter into having a wild night of passion, but it takes me a lot of time to build up the energy to switch, so I only like to switch sparingly.  I need at least three months to build up the necessary energy, so I don’t use the gift for casual flings.  No.  It’s a commitment, so the stolen life has to be perfect.  I stayed in Peter for the last two years because life has been so perfect, but it would be nice to finally feel and taste his body from the other side…Still, I’d need to find the perfect body and life in the next week or two in order to have enough time to get back inside Peter in time for Adele’s tour.  I guess I’ll just have to wait until after the tour…My frustration built, and I decided to take it out on Peter.  Even though I knew he was blacked out, I liked to pretend he was aware of everything when I got mad.  Grabbing his semi-hard cock, I pumped it until I got it back up to full hardness, watching myself make angry, yet sexy and turned on faces in the mirror as I pumped myself mercilessly.  

“Yeah!  You like that you queer slut?!  I’m gonna make you eat every drop of this cum!  unnnnngggggggg it’s gonna taste so fucking good, you fag!  Who’s the tough guy now, you freaky fag?  Can’t believe a tough guy like you is gonna eat your own load like some queer cum whore!”  God, this always made me feel so turned on and so much better.  I was getting close to orgasm when the phone rang.  I instantly clicked ignore, but it started ringing again.  I growled as I clicked ignore a second time, but the damn phone rang a third time.  Cursing, I let go of Peter’s cock and switched to his professional voice as I answered the phone.  

Even though I was initially annoyed, I was so glad I picked up the phone.  Smiling from ear to ear, I listened to a very special new client ask for my services over the next three and a half months.  Apparently he needed extra security for his wife, so tomorrow I would be on an early morning flight to Beverly Hills.  My vacation wasn’t over, it was just moving to another locale…and I’d finally have the chance to taste Peter’s lips and mouth from another perspective.Fuck, I was so excited I went back to pumping Peter’s cock.  I ate his load, this time to celebrate!  Now it’s time for me to get cleaned up, buy tickets, and pack!It was so lucky to get that call from Bastian Gillmeier, or Bastian Yotta as the media and instagram know him.   couldn’t help but enjoy one more early morning walk in Peter’s body, happily flaunting his muscles as I left shirtless and enjoyed the feeling of the breeze on his skin.  But then I checked his watched and realized how late I was.  

“Shit!  Better get back and shower.  Gotta get to the airport.  Damn, I won’t even have time to yank out one last load!”   I quickly cleaned up and called for a cab, and before I knew it I had checked in and boarded my plane en route to Beverly Hills.  Still, I was frustrated by this libido and the desire, no, the NEED to feel Peter’s cock be relieved one last time.  It was one of those rare flights where it was barely at half capacity, and somehow I was the only one in the first class section.  This airline was my favorite too because instead of thin curtains separating first class from economy, there were actual doors, affording me a much greater sense of privacy.  Still, I didn’t feel comfortable pumping a load out with that cute flight attendant around.  With me being the only client, he was checking on me practically every ten minutes, and I wanted to make this last.  I thought about going in the lavatory, but there was something so nasty and classless about that.  No.  I guess I’d need to test the sensibilities of this handsome flight attendant. Maybe he could even help me out.  

I looked behind me and predictably saw him waiting there with a puppy like grin, waiting to please me.   “Would you like another drink, sir?”I flashed him an enticing grin as I thought pensively.   “That does sound refreshing,” I remark as I subtly relax in my seat, getting more comfortable and spreading my legs just a little.   “Another barcardi and coke?”“I don’t know.  I’m craving something a little different.  I’m just so on edge.  I could really use something to help me unwind,” I say breathy as I rub my hands in between my thighs and groan lightly.   This boy gulps loudly, nervously adjusting his tie.  “W-w-well…We have mojitos.”“No…that’s not what I want…” I say with a husky tone as I look him directly in his eyes, licking my lips while I rub my host’s crotch, groaning slightly more loudly as I feel this meat starting to get hard and strain within the confines of its denim prison.  

“Sir!  This is inappropriate!  I’m going to need to ask you to-”“Shut up and touch it.  I know you want to.  Your cock can’t lie to me.   “SIR.  If you don’t stop I’m going to have to-HUH?!” he gasped as I grabbed a hold of his arm and yanked him close to me.He was speechless from the shock as I pulled him onto my lap, keeping him firmly locked in my grip thanks to Peter’s strong muscles as I went to work grinding my tented crotch against his backside and reaching my hand around to begin rubbing his engorging cock.   “MMMMmmmmmmpppphhhhhhhhhhmmmmmnnngggggggg” he groaned through Peter’s big hand that was muffling his shouts.  

He squealed as I grabbed a firm hold around his rod, stroking and pumping him through his soft uniform pants, breathing hot on his neck as I whispered into his ear.   “You’re getting so horny, boy.  I can feel you getting hard in my hand.  mmmmmm a tasty boy like you is just the refreshment I needed.”  I followed by licking up and down his neck, making him gasp as shivers coursed their way up and down his spine.   “You liked that didn’t you?” I asked with a chuckle before experimenting and easing up my grip on his mouth.  

He took several deep breaths before slowly turning his head to face me.  It could have gone either way at this point as I saw the panic and indecision in his eyes.  But then the look in his eyes focused in and I knew he has made his decision.  

He lunged as he joined his mouth with mine, moaning loudly into my mouth as he wrestled his tongue past my lips and hungrily tasted me.  I needed to remind him who the big man was in this steamy moment, so I forced Peter’s tongue into this boy’s mouth, reveling in the pleasurable moans echoing into my mouth as I ferociously tasted my mile high slut.   Pulling back, he now had a look of hunger in his eyes.  “I-I’ve never done this before at work…”“It’s just the two of us in here.  No need to worry about anything.”He looked into my eyes briefly before biting his lip nervously.“Can I…taste it?” He asked with such anticipation in his eyes.   I just smirked at him.  “You think I’d say no to a hot mouth like yours?  Get to work, boy.”I closed my eyes, smiling with satisfaction as this boy crawled down onto his knees, no longer able to suppress his desire as he unbuttoned my jeans and pulled down the zipper.  I lifted my butt up to help him as he pulled down my pants and drawers, letting this big fat cock spring out, slapping him lightly in the face as he gawked at my host’s unveiled meat.  

I shivered as he immediately went to work, grabbing me with one of his hands, pumping me softly as he wrapped his lips around the head, getting it nice and moist as he swirled his tongue around.  My fingers were trembling, and the sensation crashing through my cockhead, down to my groin and down my thighs was so powerful that I had to bite my lip and focus on gripping the armrests just to keep from shouting out.  This boy knew what he was doing, and he had just barely gotten started.  

I felt the veins on Peter’s muscles expand, letting an intense surge of blood-flow crash through every part of his body.  It was a euphoria like no other, and it only intensified as this mile high slut began bobbing his slick mouth up and down, up and down, picking up speed as he kept sucking that meat and swirling his tongue over all of Peter’s most sensitive spots.  I cringed and scrunched my face it felt so fucking good, but I didn’t want to make too much noise.  At this point though I think he was almost challenging me to give in and admit how good it felt.  He finally had his wish as he all of a sudden jolted his head down, swallowing every inch of my meat as he scooped both hands up my shirt and found my sensitive nipples.  

My eyes shot wide open as he began deepthroating me with ferocious speed, all while squeezing, twisting, and rubbing all over my massive pecs, and particularly, my tight and hard nipples.  My back arched violently as a loud groan finally escaped my lips.  I bit my lip though to shut myself up, scrunching my face up again and hyperventilating as this boy kept swallowing my entire length.  

I couldn’t have hoped for a better last orgasm in Peter’s body, but I still wanted it to be at least partially on my own terms.  Growling as I felt the testosterone levels in Peter’s body rising, I grabbed the boy’s head with both of my hand’s, getting no resistance from him as I began to pull him down onto my cock, harder and even faster than he was already going.  Mmmmmmm it felt so satisfying as I used Peter’s strong arms to pull that mouth and tight throat down onto his juicy meat.  Such a good throat fuck, but I couldn’t hold my hips back anymore, so it got even more intense.  I know I might have been going rough on the boy, but he wasn’t complaining as I started bucking my hips up, thrusting into his mouth and thrusting powerfully down his throat.  The boy kept squeezing my pecs and nipples, getting more intense as I added more and more power to my throat fuck.  My toes were curling in my shoes as I looked down at this hungry mile high slut, and seeing the desperation in his eyes finally sent me over the edge.  Groaning loudly, I slammed his mouth down onto one last powerful cock thrust after what had seemed like an eternity of building pressure in Peter’s massive balls.  With that thrust, my pent up load was finally free, releasing stream after stream directly down the hungry throat that was so expertly milking my cock.  I shivered as kept yanking his throat down onto each new ribbon of cum, milking out over a dozen shots before the stream finally slowed to mere droplets which we sucked straight out of me with that skilled mouth.  

Attention Passengers,  Please prepare for landing.  We will be arriving in approximately five minutes.  

“Damn, sorry boy.  I guess I don’t have time to return the favor.”He just smiled adoringly at me though.  “No, don’t be sorry.  That was-That was amazing!  I’ll be thinking about you and this later tonight.  This will be on my mind for the next month at the very least!”He gave me one more passionate kiss before he straightened his tie and uniform, giving me a sexy wink as he made the landing preparations, leaving me in my golden orgasmic bliss.  He was kind enough to point to my ankles though, reminding me my pants and boxers were still down, leaving my softening meat out for the world to see.  I quickly pulled my pants back up as we began the descent.  

I hopped in the cab at the airport, unable to contain my grin as I gave the driver the address of Bastian’s Beverly Hills mansion.  The cab driver wasn’t particularly talkative, so I sat in eager silence as I mentally prepared for my transfer and mini vacation from Peter’s body.  

The passing vistas and palm trees zoom by as I absentmindedly reach my hands underneath my shirt and begin rubbing and feeling Peter’s body.  I know I’ll be feeling this body from the other side, but I’ll miss the feeling of ownership and possession.  Something about feeling Peter Van der Veen’s abs and squeezing those massive pecs with his own strong hands was immensely satisfying.  Taking over strong men and making them my hosts…my vessels…will always be my drug of choice.  

“We’re here, Mister,” the taxi driver says, looking at me with an odd expression as I realize I’m still circling Peter’s hard nipples.  I swoop my hands out from under Peter’s shirt, unable to help but go a little red in the face as I awkwardly thank and pay the guy.  I pull out Peter’s wallet, so comfortable now seeing his ID and associating that image and identity as my own.  That’s when you know you’ve found a keeper, when you look at your host’s ID and instinctively think, “Damn, I look hella fine.” 

I tipped the guy well to mask the awkwardness and walked over to the front door, suitcases in tow.  There was a note on the front door telling me to come on in and meet my new employers in the back.  The note said to just keep on following the central corridor until I reached them.   Opening the door, I was blown away by the extravagance of this massive and modern mansion.  

“What a great place to vacation,” I said aloud to myself in shock as I plopped my bags on the marble floor, closed the door, and began the long walk down the central hallway.  I passed by massive living and entertaining rooms, all decked out with expensive art, impeccable decoration, and state of the art technology.  The kitchen and dining room was as large as most people’s whole apartments, and I think I walked passed a whole new set of entertainment and party/recreational rooms.  It was simply unbelievable, but I got pulled back to reality as I heard light moaning emanating from the last room at the end of the hall.  

The moaning was definitely deep, low, and masculine.  Judging by the videos I had watched during my research, I knew it was Bastian who was cooing and making those sweet sounds of pleasure.  I could hear him faintly egging on what I can only assume was his wife, Maria.  That accent was still distinctly German, and thought some people thought it was a little harsh, I shivered from its foreign and exotic appeal.  I had never taken over a foreigner before, so I wondered if I would have the joy of speaking with such a German flare.   I kept walking cautiously towards the moans, concerned that I was going to interrupt a particularly private and intimate moment.  Still, I advanced.  That’s one of the great things about Peter’s body.  I’m this massive tank of toned muscle, but he is so light on his feet.  I barely make a sound as I walk right up to the cracked door and slowly push it open as I walk inside.  

“Huh?” I asked aloud as I creaked the door open and saw Bastian, shirtless and laying down on a medical table as his wife performed a spa facial.  She was dressed and made up to the nth degree with her pink mini dress, pumps, and full make up while she massaged her husband’s face, working the active ingredients deep into his skin that would help maintain his youth.  He clearly found the experience very pleasurable as the sounds coming out of his mouth were almost orgasmic.  

“That must be you, Peter,” he said in his sweet German accent and without even opening his eyes.  

“We’re just finishing the last step,” Maria said with a smile as she spread the remaining moisture serum down his neck before clicking a button that brought the reclined medical table back up to a chair-like angle.  

Bastian finally opened his eyes as he smiled at me, happy to see that he had been able to afford my services.  My host was, after all, the most sought out bodyguard in Hollywood.  

“Maria, can you give us some time?  I need to show him the house and talk about the next three months.  Here’s some cash–go buy something pretty,” he said as he casually handed her a thick strap of hundred dollar bills.  She was almost giddy with joy as she collected the multi-thousand dollar wad of cash and left to go shop to her heart’s content at her favorite designer stores.   “Now, that frees up some time for just us guys,” he said with a cheeky grin as he got up off the table and put his shirt back on.  

This was going too perfectly.  I tried to suppress my own giddy grin as he began to show me around the house, when like he said, it was just us guys.

[illfoandillfie]

Curtains - Part 5

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Roger x F!Reader

Summery: First two dates, you and Roger move on

Warnings: Smut (18+), dealing with Emotions, smoking, car sex, public sex, oral sex (m receiving), (slightly hesitant) dom!Rog

Words: 6872 

A/N: Originally I planned chapter 5 to be the last one but some stuff changed from my original plan and it ended up getting waaaaaaayyyy too long so there’ll be a chapter 6 lmao. The Morris Mini Roger drives in this was a car he actually owned (it’s in the photo and everything)

Taglist:  @laedymoon  @dtfrogertaylor   @ezmina98  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor  @hannafuckingsucks  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely​

@bohemiansweede​​​ @rogershoe​​​  @lnnuend0​​​  @funitrog​

You changed your outfit about sixteen times before you settled on the right one. It had actually been the first one you chose – a dress you were sure Roger had never seen you in before – but you’d had to rule out everything else you owned before you could be sure, or rather, before you could feel less anxious about the decision. You were determined to look your best and to make sure he evening was fun, even though the nerves twisting in your stomach made you want to pick up the phone and cancel again. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, it was just the pressure of it all. Everything that had happened between you and Roger felt like a lead up to this date. Like a great big drumroll building and building until he knocked on your door. And you couldn’t help feeling like there was a big chance you were going to fuck it up, probably for good. So, one by one you held your clothes up in front of the mirror and one by one you added them to the absolutely not pile, discarding them for reasons big and small – too uncomfortable, too hard to get in to, too much a colour Roger didn’t like. The pile of clothes deemed not good enough had steadily grown larger as you added outfit after outfit – this one was too slutty, this one not slutty enough, and this one was something your mother would have suggested and therefore a definite no. Until eventually you’d been left with the dress you originally pulled out and a sense of satisfaction with your choice. Despite the urge to throw up you felt at the knock on the door, the decision was made even more satisfying when Roger took one look at you and whistled.  “You ready to go?”  “Yeah just let me grab my bag,”  “Not tempted to cancel again?” he winked as he asked so you knew he was joking but it still made you cringe.  “Do you start all your first dates trying to make the girl feel as guilty as possible?”  “Only the good ones. C’mon,”  He took your hand and led you out towards a 60s Morris Mini that was parked on the street between your units.   “No van tonight?”  “Of course not,” he said as he opened the door for you, “you didn’t think that was my main ride, right?” he closed the door behind you, shooting you a disbelieving look through the windshield as he ran round to his door.  “Well it’s the only one I’ve ever seen you in,”  “No, this is my baby,” he lovingly tapped the dashboard as he started the engine, “The van I just got to lug around stage equipment. Couldn’t fit a drumkit in here.”  “No you could not,” you laughed, taking in the small interior of the car.  “Hey, don’t laugh at her. She was a gift from my mum when I moved up here.”  “Sorry, just not the car I pictured you in. It’s cute though.”  “She is a bit small actually. Very hard to get a girl into the back.”  “Might have to ask for proof later,”  Roger looked over at you briefly before looking back at the road, “I’m just gonna say this now and get it out of the way so I don’t make this date too awkward later on, but,” he paused and took a deep breath that only made the nerves twist your stomach into knots, “we don’t have to have sex tonight. If you want to take this slow or you want to set some boundaries to start it’s okay, I’d understand.”  You smiled at him as he glanced back over again. His thoughtfulness as least helped ease your lingering worries about his sincerity about dating you, “Thank you. But you don’t have to like take a vow of chastity to prove you’re for real or anything.”  “Because if you did want to wait, I’d get it,”  “Rog, relax. Let’s just see how tonight goes okay? Besides,” you laughed, “sex might make things feel more normal.”  “I’m happy to do anything to help make it more normal. If that means sneaking into the restaurant bathroom with you then so be it.”  After that you fell into an easy conversation, your nerves almost reduced to those you’d feel on any other first date. 

“Have I mentioned how gorgeous you look tonight?” Roger said softly as he pulled your chair out for you. The restaurant was small though by no means empty, other tables holding other dates as well as a family or two. A few of the other people looked familiar, other students you’d seen around campus or the pub, and you quickly realised this was the go-to spot for a fairly cheap date. Nice enough to impress but not enough to break the bank.  “I was going to pay you the same complement. I think this might be the first time I’ve seen you in something other than those ratty jeans.”  “Oi, don’t hear me insulting your wardrobe. And I wear plenty of other stuff.”  “Mmm you do, I must admit I’m a little jealous of your collection. I just have one question, and stop me if this is rude, but how the fuck can you afford so much?”  Roger chuckled and, looking around for eavesdroppers, crooked his finger so you’d lean it, “That’s my secret though, love, I can’t,” he sat back in his chair, comfortably relaxed, “They’re all nicked from the stall.”  You did your best to ignore the flip your stomach did at the sound of the pet name, “The one you and Freddie run? Kensington, right?”  “Did Fred mention it?”  “Yeah, th- the night we all hung out in the van he told me about it,” you hoped Roger would ignore your slight stutter at the memory of what had happened after that night, “Said I should drop by if I got the chance.”  “You should!”  Your conversation was briefly interrupted by the waiter, another familiar face you were sure you’d seen around campus, coming to take your order.  “What was I saying?” Roger asked once you’d ordered, “Oh wait I remember! The markets are great fun even if you’re working there. Plus, I’m sure I could find you something to buy off us.”  “That desperate for sales you’ll shill to your friends?”  “Of course. Easier marks since they care whether we can afford food.” he laughed, “no but you should come. I could take you if you want? As long as you don’t mind being called on to help sell a thing or two.”  “Sounds like fun.”  “That's settled then, you can come watch me work.”  “Second date sorted then?”  “Believe me, as fun as the markets are, I would not be taking you there as a second date. For one thing Fred’d be there the whole time and I’m not so keen on a third wheel so early on.” 

Your waiter returned with the bottle of wine Roger had ordered and a promise the food would be out shortly.  “So, Rog,” you said as he poured you a glass, “Tell me about yourself. Y’know, considering how much time we’ve been together, I don’t really know much more about you than your name.”  “What do you want to know?”  You paused, unconsciously sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you pondered the question, “I don’t know. Everything,”  “Is that one of your first date moves? The slight lean forward so he can see down your top, the lip bite, the everything?” Roger’s imitation of you fell into laughter.  "Do people actually have moves? I’m just curious,”  “I’ll take that as a complement then. Where to start though...”  There was barely a pause to your conversation. The only disruptions came in the form of your meals arriving, and moments when you both pulled yourself away from talking long enough to remember to take a bite. Otherwise one of you was always in the middle of a thought. He took your words to heart, telling you about his family and his friends and his studies and his band and anything you hadn’t covered in the time you’d already known each other, which was admittedly quite a lot. And it seemed that for every anecdote Roger shared you were called upon to share one of your own, his interest in you equal to yours in his. It was an easier first date than you could have possibly imagined, awkward silences replaced by curious questions, discomfort replaced by familiarity, leaving you both trying to time sips of your drinks for moments when you weren’t likely to spit it out as you fell into another round of laughter. 

“So,” Roger said as he led you back out of the restaurant, leaving the waiter to clear away the empty plate from your shared dessert, “be honest, was it as terrible as you thought it would be?”  “No,” you said with a huff of sheepish laughter, “I’m happy to say I had a really lovely night. Feel like even more of a knob for the whole cancelling thing but I’m glad I eventually got my shit together.”  “Me too. Smoke?” he offered you the pack he’d dug out of his pocket but you waved him off, pushing yourself to sit on the hood of his car as he dug in his pocket for his lighter. He held it long enough to take two drags before you were taking it from his fingers and pulling on it yourself.  “Hey, I offered you one,”  “I didn’t want a whole one, just a puff or two, here look you can have it back,” he took it off you, stepping between your legs, eyes locked on yours as he put it between his lips again. To your surprise he stubbed it out under his foot as he breathed out the smoke.  “What a waste! If you didn’t want it I could’ve taken it,”  Roger smiled at you as he leaned in close. You could taste the smoke on his breath as he kissed you, softly, his hands resting on your thighs.  “Was that okay?” he was still leaning in close.  “Rog,” you said sternly, “stop asking if I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere,” to prove it you placed your arms over his shoulders, pulling him into another kiss, deeper and longer. It seemed to be convincing enough, his hands slipping up until they were on your waist pulling you against him. The skirt of your dress was askew, pushed out of place as his hands rose further up your body, exposing the top of your thigh. Neither of you could bring yourselves to stop for longer than it took to take another breath, hungry for more. Heedless of passersby, on their way to the restaurant or heading back to their cars. Your hands began to wander, sliding back over Roger’s shoulders, deceptively muscular from years of drumming, and down onto his chest. The buttons of his shirt pressed into your palm, daring you to undo them.  “Think I’d like to see that backseat now,” you panted against his lips, toying with his top button, able to feel his breath as he sighed.  “Told you, backseat’s too small,”  “Well you could always come back to mine,” 

He drove you home, moving his hand from the gear stick to your thigh whenever he could, and pulled back up in the same spot you’d found the car when you left, opening your door for you once again. There was something oddly domestic about the way Roger took your bag as you fumbled getting the key into the lock, following you inside. It made your chest feel tight, the slightly sick nervous feeling rearing its head again.   “Do you want a drink?” you asked, already reaching for your wine glasses.  Roger’s seemed distracted as he turned to face you, his gaze pulled away from the doorway to your room, “Uh, think I’ll pass,”  “Alright,” you shrugged, putting one glass back “hope you don't mind if I have one anyway,”  “Actually, I think I’m going to get going,”  The slightly sick feeling only got stronger, “Oh. Okay then,” had you misread the situation?  “I had a really great time tonight,” he said as he took your hand, “Just...don’t want to rush anything, y’know?”  “Okay. Do you, um, do you wanna go out again?"  “How about Thursday night? I’d say earlier but I’ve got a couple late classes and then some sessions with the band.”  “Thursday sounds good.”  “Cool, I’ll see you then.”  He kissed you once more before he left. You could hear his footsteps as he walked the short distance to his front door, while you sat in your quiet kitchen trying to work out what Roger had meant by not rushing anything. Your whole relationship was essentially built on rushing things. The first time you’d spoken he’d had his hand under your skirt and within minutes he’d been in your bed. Now he was worried about it? And talk about mixed signals. Between his comments about the backseat that was practically an invitation to climb on back there and his assurance that you didn’t have to have sex which almost sounded like he was trying to convince you not to, and the way he’d kissed you and kept touching your thigh and then decided to leave, you felt like you had whiplash. It made you feel anxious, going over every moment to try and figure him out as you lay in bed and worried that things would never quite be okay between you.  

Luckily you didn’t have much time to dwell on it during the week. Your classes were starting to ramp up towards exams and you found yourself being bombarded with topics to revise in preparation. A few times you saw Roger around and each time brought a twinge of uncertainty that kind of made you want to throw up, but it was always pushed from your mind fairy quickly, replaced by only marginally less puke-inducing thoughts about studying. In fact, you barely had a moment to think about your second date before Thursday evening arrived and Roger was once again knocking on your door. During a very brief conversation you’d had upon bumping into each other between classes, he’d advised you to dress casually, so he found you in jeans and t-shirt. You’d contemplated wearing a skirt, learning from previous mistakes, but you couldn’t be certain how he’d react to it. Would he teasingly scald you for not dressing casually enough or would he pull you into a public bathroom again? Jeans were the far easier option. Plus it made it that little bit harder for him to get into your pants if that was what he wanted, and you kind of liked the idea of making him work for it.  

When Roger pulled into the carpark behind the pub you looked at him with raised eyebrows, the now familiar sick feeling only getting stronger, “Really? Here?”  “C’mon it’ll be fun. We had fun last time,”  Last time when everyone at the bar had heard you moaning for him. Last time when you’d hung out in his van. Last time right before you’d made an arse of yourself and almost ruined everything.   Roger must have sensed your hesitation because he put a reassuring hand on your knee, “Y/N?”  “It’s fine, I’m being stupid,” you shook your head and pulled a smile onto your face.  “Are you sure? We can go somewhere else if you want,”  “I’m sure. Last time was very fun,”  Roger looked at you for a moment longer but you were already opening the door and climbing out of the car. He hurried to follow, lacing his fingers through yours and giving your hand an encouraging squeeze. It felt easier once you were sat together at a small table off to the side of the room, a drink in front of each of you. You let yourself relax into your conversation, laughing at Roger’s jokes and becoming enraptured with the way he spoke. By the time the band came on stage you’d almost forgotten your earlier discomfort, happy to just sit with Roger and watch them play. Especially when he beckoned you to pull your chair closer to his, allegedly so you could see the stage better, though it also gave him the opportunity to wrap and arm around your waist.  “What d’you think of them?” he asked suddenly, leaning towards your ear so you could hear better.  “The band? They’re okay I guess,”  “Would you say Queen is better?”  “These guys don’t even come close,”  “Correct answer,” he winked at you and placed a finger under your chin, tilting your face towards him. You sighed against his lips as he kissed you softly.  “This drummer is especially unimpressive. Nowhere near as talented as Queen’s. Or as cute,”  “Someone’s playing for the top prize,”  “Mmhmm, did I win?”  He leaned in to kiss you again, his hand resting on your knee, which you took as a yes. Slowly he began sliding his hand up your thigh. You shifted in your seat, turning your body to face him more, though he kept you from crossing your legs, pawing at your over your jeans. A small, quiet moan escaped you as he pressed the seam of your jeans against your clit and you felt Roger smile. He grew tired of not touching you properly though, deftly undoing your fly and wriggling his fingers under the waistband of your underpants.  “Funny how often we end up here,” his voice was quiet enough that only you could hear him, yet practically demanding your full attention, “what’s the rule?”  “I don’t know,” you half whined as Roger toyed with your clit.  “Eyes on me, yes?”  “Yes,” it took some effort but you managed to force your eyes open and bring them to rest on his face.  “Good girl. You know why I want you looking at me?”  You shook your head, biting your lower lip to keep from moaning too loudly.  “There are two reasons. Number one, I don’t want you getting distracted worrying about who can see you. And two, I like watching your face. The way you get that pleading look in your eyes, almost begging me not to stop.” he paused, “Y’know this’d be easier if you’d worn a skirt. Which I’m fairy sure I’ve said to you before,”  “D’you wanna find somewhere a little more private and help me out of these jeans then?”  Roger’s finger stopped their motion and he tugged his hand free, “As tempting as that is, might be better if we head off.”  “Head off like, go back to mine and spend the rest of the night together?”  “I more meant... head off and go home to our own separate beds.”  “Oh-kay,” you said slowly, trying to work out what you’d done wrong as he took your hand and led you back out into the warm night air. You were halfway across the carpark when you spoke up, “Why?”  “Why what?”  “Why do you want to go home already?”  “I’ve got an early class tomorrow.”  “Do you?” you dropped his hand, crossing your arms over your chest.  “Yes. Why would I lie about class?”  “I don’t know Roger. But you’ve been so fucking hot and cold with me I don’t really know what to think. Seriously though, what the fuck is your problem? Like one minute you’re inviting me into the backseat of your car and then next you’re saying you don’t want to rush things. You’ll touch my thigh, you’ll finger me under the fucking table but the minute I suggest we actually have sex you back off again!”  “I know. I’m just...” he shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a loose stone across the carpark. “Nervous. After what happened last time. The screaming match and the -” he broke off, biting his lip but you knew what he meant.  You softened at his worried expression, “Rog, I’ve told you already that wasn’t your fault. I’m the one that started it.”  “Yeah but I was way too rough with you that night. I could have hurt you, I did hurt you.”  “I think your forgetting the scratches I left you with,”  “That’s different. The way I choked you I could have done actual damage. And then there was the – the other part,”  “Is this what things are going to be like from now on?”  “What?”  “Is that whole fight going to infect every interaction we have? Every time I’m reminded of it I feel awful and embarrassed and guilty, and I can’t help but panic. You keep pulling away because of a bad angry fuck. What if we never get past it properly? What if we can’t?”  He kicked at the gravel again, not making eye contact, “No, I think we can. The moments when we’re talking and I forget about everything else that happened are really good. I just think it’ll take a bit of time to completely move on.”  “What happened to putting it behind us?”  “Easier said than done,” he shrugged, “Come on, we can talk about it more in the car.”  You nodded and followed though you weren’t really paying attention. Instead you were going over everything in your head, trying to find a solution. Just waiting it out wasn’t good enough. There was too much uncertainty and doubt. You needed to do something. Something that would put Roger’s mind at ease about potentially hurting you and fix the discomfort you felt. Roger opened the door for you but you didn’t get in.  “Y/N?”  “We need to have sex.”  “We literally just went over this,”  “No, I know, but we need to. I said it on our first date and played it off as a joke but the more I think about it the more sense it makes. Sex would make things feel more normal.”  Roger just looked at you.  “Think about it Rog. Our whole relationship was built on it. Our very first interaction was you seeing me masturbate and then finding me here,” you pointed at the building behind you, “and fingering me in a room full of strangers. It wasn’t until after we’d slept together a few times that we actually like, talked properly.”  “I don’t know. It’s not that I don’t want to, Y/N, I do. Fuck I want to, but...”  “I get it,” you said softly, taking his hand in yours and gently rubbing your thumb over his skin, “But it won’t be like last time.”  There was silence for a few moments as Roger considered but then he nodded, “Okay, yeah. Um... hop in and we’ll go back to yours.”  “There’s a perfectly fine car here, why drive all that way?”  "Privacy maybe?”  “Rog, since when have we cared about being in public?  “Touché. But I meant what I said before about the lack of space. Might wanna take your pants off before you get inside.”  “You first,”  “No need to be so suspicious, was your idea remember,” but he kicked his pants off all the same, throwing them into the drivers seat followed by his underwear, “I can’t believe you’ve convinced me to go balls out behind the pub,” Roger said as he folded the front seat forward.  “Didn’t really take much,” you looked around to double check for any peeping toms before quickly pulling off your own jeans. They joined Roger’s, though unlike him, you kept your underpants on, “besides, I heard about you losing that bet and running starkers around the block, I know you’re not shy about this sort of thing.”  “Losing a bet is losing a bet. I knew the cost and I paid it,”   “Yes well, apparently that bet and sorting this,” you waved your hands between you, “this mess out, have the same cost,”  “A cost you’ve noticeably not payed,”  “Don’t worry, I’ll get there. But there’s something I want to do first.”  Roger looked confused until you kneeled at his feet, “Woah, love,”  “I’m pretty sure I owe you a blowjob, remember?”   “I remember, but here? That gravel can’t be comfortable.”  “It’s fine, it won’t last long.”  “Excuse you but I think we both know I can last.” The end of his argument was lost in a gasp as you wrapped your hand around his length and squeezed just a little, smiling at his instant reaction. Without another word you looked up at him and took him in your mouth, sucking until he groaned, his hand flying out to brace himself against the roof of the car. You bobbed up and down, gradually taking him deeper, until he hit the back of your throat and you gagged. You pulled back off him, sliding your hand over his length, spreading your saliva out. And then you were back on him, though not taking him quite so deep, pumping your hand over what you couldn’t reach, hollowing your cheeks as you tried to draw more pretty noises from him.   “Y/N, love,”  You hummed in response, earning another groan and his fist banging on the roof of the car twice.  “Jesus, I know I said I could last longer, but I swear to god if you keep this up, I won't,”  You pulled back and smiled at him, “Isn’t that kind of the point?”  “‘Spose so,”  “Besides, we’re in the middle of a carpark and I’m kneeling on gravel. Think I’d prefer this to be over a little bit quicker,”  That made him laugh, covering his mouth so as not to attract any attention from a gaggle of people exiting the bar and jumping into a car, “I told you it’d be uncomfortable,”  You hadn’t explicitly said it and you had no idea if Roger realised, but there was a sense of apology in your actions. Modern day self-flagellation, though perhaps that wasn’t a good metaphor since you were quite enjoying yourself despite the stones pressing into your knees. But in your mind, this made things more even, went some way to erasing the awkwardness and discomfort you’d created. And that spurred you on, made you want to give him a good performance.   “Quiet, smarty pants and let me get back to it,”  He gave you a go on then wave with one hand, “was only warning you in-n case you – fuck,” Roger’s head fell forward as he moaned and you picked up the pace, mouth and hand moving in tandem to push him over the edge. Thankfully no one was around to hear him as he moaned, knuckles white where he held onto the car, hips jerking as you milked his cock.  “In case I what?” you asked swiping at the corner of your mouth with your thumb, as a precaution.  “I was going to say, in case you were planning on riding me before I came, but it’s a bit late for that now,”  “Little bit,” you held out your hand so he could help pull you to your feet, dusting off the gravel still stuck to your knees as soon as you were up, “you still want to do this?”  “More than ever, just give me like a minute,”  “Sure, you know how much I love standing around in public half naked,”  “Take your knickers off and we can talk about half naked. How are your knees?”  “They’re fine,”   “Good,” he stepped in close, trapping you between himself and the open car door.  Your breath hitched as he kissed you, his fingers sliding into your underwear again. To any observers crossing the carpark on the way to or from the bar you would have appeared a regular loved up couple, stealing a kiss before you got in the car and drove away. At least, until they walked behind you and saw Roger’s bare arse and your spread legs. Not that you would have noticed if someone had walked by, much too caught up in how Roger’s fingers felt working their way into you, stretching you out.   “Aren’t you just a filthy little slut,”  “Only when you’re around.” 

Roger wrenched his fingers free of your pussy, and stepped back half a step, holding his arm out towards the interior of the car, “Ladies first,”  You’re just saying that to get a look at my bum,” you laughed, but you climbed inside all the same, pulling your shirt off as Roger followed and slammed the door behind him. In seconds he was reaching for you again, finding your lips again. It felt nice to be wrapped up in him once more, his touch lighter than it had been in the past, remnant concern manifesting physically. You placed your hands over his, giving him permission to be that little bit firmer as he lay you back, your head propped up against the wall behind you, taking a few seconds to look you over before he began rolling your underwear down your legs.   “Wait, um, if you bend your knees for me,” he said, awkwardly trying to reposition himself to get them off your ankles. When he finally had them in his hand he slingshot them into the front seat, drawing a laugh from you. You let one leg fall to the floor as Roger pulled his shirt off, leaning forward so as not to punch the roof of the car. Once his shirt had been tossed aside he brought his hand back to your wet folds, running his fingers along you teasingly slowly.   “Rog please,”  “Love hearing you beg,”  With a whine you readjusted yourself, scooting a little further back so more of your head rested against the wall, getting your neck into a slightly more comfortable position. He leaned over you in search of another hungry kiss but broke it off when you whimpered into his mouth.  “Did I hurt you?”  You shook your head, “just want you to fuck me already,”  “Just, hang on love, give me a second,” he said as he tried to find a comfortable position.  “Maybe if you move back a bit?”  “My arse is already so close to the window I’m mooning anyone who looks this way,”  You let out another laugh, “Can’t you just kneel on the seat?”  “Not unless I want to bump my head. Can you move?”  “Rog If I try to move back any further I may as well sit up,”  “That could work,” he grabbed your arm and pulled you up so you could move across to straddle his lap.    “Alright, just give me, shit-” your forehead whacked into Roger’s both of you swearing. You fell into another laughing fit as you landed on his lap, arms around his neck, though Roger wasn’t quite as amused.  “God, are you okay?” he asked, pushing your hair back to examine the site of impact, “I told you it was small,”  “Might not wanna say that while your dicks hanging out,”  His eyes narrowed at you, “Yeah, you’re fine.”  “Mmhmm, think this can work,” you wrapped your hand around Roger’s cock, making him hiss as you stroked him. You raised yourself onto your knees too fast and felt the top of your head collide with the roof of the car.  “Oh Jesus bloody fuck,” you almost yelled, dropping back down straight away and rubbing the top of your head.  “Christ Y/N,” Roger said getting you to look down so he could see the top of your head, “that sounded bad.”  You rubbed the spot you'd hit, “It’s nothing,”  “That’s it, I’m taking you home. We gotta get some ice on it.”  “I’m fine,”  “Y/N, it’s a head injury,”  “It’s a bump Rog, nothing serious,”   “It could be serious. I study biology, I know how fucking fragile the skull can be.”  You sighed and lay a hand on his cheek, “Roger, I’m okay. This is not a sign from the universe or anything like that. It’s a small bump because I want you so bad.”  “You sure you don’t want me to get some ice?”  “Oh I am much too horny for that,”  Roger still looked a little concerned but he chuckled along with you and dropped his hands to your waist, “you’ll let me know if you want to stop?”  “You know I will.” 

Going slower, taking a little more care, you tried to mount him again, managing it without injury. Roger still seemed wary, his hold on you lighter than you wanted but once again you placed your hands over his, pressing on his fingers until he tightened his grip. Gradually you began rolling your hips against his, letting out small hums and tempting moans against his neck as you leaned in to leave a trail of kisses and grazed teeth. Roger was biting the inside of his cheek as if he were trying to keep himself under control, lest he go too far. He hadn’t been afraid to let his domineering side show while he was just using his fingers, but now that things had progressed, and in the wake of your self-inflicted head knock, he seemed to be holding back again. It wasn’t what you needed.  “C’mon Rog,” you whined between sucking at his neck, “grab me properly. Slap me, pinch me, use me. Want you to show me what needy whores like me are good for.”  He swallowed audibly, fingers twitching against you as you clenched down on his cock.  “Got so turned on inside, hearing you call me a good girl. And I was so close to cumming just from your fingers,” you changed the motion of your hips, drawing a gasp from Roger.  “That’s because you’re a slut who likes getting off in front of an audience,” his grasp still wasn’t hard enough, though he was clearly getting more comfortable and more eager to take charge the longer you talked, your steadily swiveling hips riling him up.   “Your slut.”  Roger growled. One of his hands left your hip to swat at your arse, and then it was back, his grasp firm enough to hold you still, “Enough. I know you’re desperate for me to use you again but we’ve got a problem,” he laced his fingers in your hair and tugged your head back, “Because you’re so fucking needy and couldn’t wait the ten minutes it would have taken to get home we’re here, where there isn’t enough space to do everything I want to do to you. Now, if you really want me to use you, I could always push you to the floor and fuck your mouth. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you stopped when I hit the back of your throat. Maybe it’s time I taught you how to suck dick like a proper whore.”  You whined and tried to rock your hips but he pulled on your hair again.  “Keep still.”  “Sorry,”  He raised his eyebrow and waited another moment before he continued, “I could do that. But I like being in your cunt too much. So instead, you’re going to ride me properly. No more of these teasing little rocking movements. You’re going to put those knees of yours to work and ride me, show me you can be obedient even when you’re on top. If you do well enough, I might let you cum.” He bucked his hips, a signal for you to get to it.  Bracing your hands on his chest you raised yourself up and dropped down onto his cock, careful not to hit your head again, steadily building your rhythm.   “Good girl,” he said softly, sliding his hands up your sides and around to your breasts.  You gasped when he pinched your nipples, disrupting the rhythm you’d found which earned you a sharp spank and a warning to keep going. It didn’t help when Roger began talking again, whispering a filthy stream of consciousness monologue to you that covered every possible topic from the way your tits felt in his hands to why your neck looked better covered in his teeth marks to how much he loved being buried so fucking deep in your cunt, and everything in between. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, burning as he laid claim to every inch of you with his words and his hands and his lips. The feeling only grew when you heard a wolf whistle from the other side of the window followed by Roger’s hitched laugh.  “Jesus, the way you just clenched on me. You really do like an audience, don’t you?”  All you could do was whine, the need to cum only getting stronger as you repeatedly impaled yourself on him.  “Go on, love, give them a show,” he spanked you again, pushing a moan from your throat and you wondered if the person who’d whistled was hanging around to listen in.   You held onto Roger tighter as he raised his hips to meet yours, both of you chasing release. You were done for when he dropped his fingers to your clit, holding out long enough to hear him breathlessly order you to cum. He followed quickly, squeezing your hips again, as you collapsed against his chest.  

When you found the energy, you climbed off his lap and fell into the seat beside him, stretching your legs as much as you could in the limited space. Roger leaned towards the door, winding the fogged-up window down an inch to let some fresh air into the car, before he sat back and threw an arm around you, pulling you against his side.  “Was that good?” he mumbled into your hair.  “Brilliant. Told you there was nothing to worry about. Quite like it when you get all rough, really.”  “I know. Couldn’t help worrying though, could I? I really like you, didn’t want to scare you off,” he said it casually but from how you were leaning against him you could feel his heart racing, your own speeding up too.   You pulled away from him, just far enough that you could properly see his face, “I like you too Rog.” The shy smile you’d offered turned into a fully-fledged grin, the expression mirrored on his face, as he kissed you again.  “Does this mean we’re all good?” you asked when he finally let you go, “no more weirdness?”  “I can’t promise no more weirdness but definitely less. And I’m more than happy to keep sleeping with you until it's gone,”  You giggled, head falling into the crook of his neck, “maybe not in the car again though.”  “I’ll bring the van next time, give us a bit more room,” he bumped your shoulder playfully with his, “don’t want you hitting your head every time you get too impatient to wait,”  “Ooh next time? You got any ideas?” you asked, reaching to grab your shirt and throw Roger his.  “Like what we’re gonna do?” he paused as he pulled his shirt on, “Not really. Exam preps kinda taken over my brain. Only came up with coming here last minute,”  You laughed as he scrunched his nose up and leaned forward to retrieve the rest of your clothes, “let me guess...close and cheap?”  “Pretty much. Hey!”   “Sorry, couldn’t resist. You’ve got a cute bum,”  “No need to pinch it!” he laughed, throwing your jeans at you, "Think I better take you home before you get any more ideas,”  “Yeah alright, can’t sit here half-dressed forever. Chuck us my knickers would you?”  Roger threw the underpants at you, laughing as he watched you wriggle back into them. Carefully he opened the door, sticking his head out to check the coast was clear before he climbed out and hurriedly pulled his jeans on. You did the same, trying to be as quick as possible, while Roger put the front seat back into position and went round to the driver's side.  

The drive back to your street was comfortable, his hand again falling to your knee whenever it wasn’t on the gear stick, but this time there was no question of what it meant. You were still laughing at a joke he’d made when he walked you to your front door.   “You wanna come in? I could make you a coffee if you want?”  “I would but, early class.”  “Oh yeah, forgot about that. You know, you live right next door though, could stay for a couple of hours at least. Or just stay the night and then jump the fence in the morning.”  “I can’t believe I’m about to turn you down but I really can’t. I swear most days I’d say fuck the class but with the exams so close I can’t afford to miss it. And I know if I did stay, I wouldn’t want to leave.”  “I get it. I should probably crack open a book before I turn in anyway,”  “I’ll talk to you soon though, okay?”  “Yeah, okay,”  Roger wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug before laying a soft goodnight kiss against your lips.  “You better go or else I’m going to ask you to stay again.”  “G’night. And put some ice on that bump before you go to bed, okay?”  “Goodnight Roger.”

[nctrenjunie]

Morning dream~ Mark (M)

Author: Sera

Pairing: Reader x Mark

Genre: Smut

Comment: Hi, I´m dying from lack of sleep again but it´s ok. It´s a sub Mark smut and I thought about putting a ommy kink in it but I have never written something like that so I was unsure. Maybe I will implicate it in the Renjun!sub smut. Well I´m going to sleep now

Request:...could you please when you get a chance do another renjun sub, or a mark sub im really such a sucker for dream subs aa! thank youuu <3 Hope you like it & thx for your support

You wake up, feeling the warm spring breeze against your skin that entered through the opened windows. The weight of Marks arm on your waist still there. You nuzzle yourself more into his embrace, not wanting to wake up yet. Mark tightens his grip around your body, bringing you closer to his own body. Suddenly you hear him leave out a loud breath against your ear. Now you notice the presence of his boner against your ass. Amused by the situation, you rub your ass against his obvious boner, making him let out a loud whimper. You stop your actions, thinking about what to do next.

“Y/N…”

Marks silent moans don't stop hitting against your neck. Is he dreaming? You turn around. The morning sun shines through the paper thin curtain right on his face. Your hand moves through his hair, down to his cheek, Marks parted lips making you want to kiss them. You decide to let him keep on dreaming while having your own fun with him. You try to move silently under the shared blanket. You nudged him a little bit.  Mark starts to shift around, bringing you the place you needed between his legs. You move up, trying to make no sounds. A smirk creeps on your face as you rub over your boyfriends boner, getting your name whimpered as a response. You shuffle yourself a little more up, your face now in front of his crotch. Satisfied with Marks moans, you put your hand in his boxers. Sliding them down a little bit, you take out his already erected boner. Mark lets out a loud whine, hissing after it. You smear his already leaking precum over the tip of his cock before slowly starting to rub down his shaft. You keep a slow tempo, listening to Marks pleading moans. You start to move your hand fast around his cock, adding your mouth on his tip, licking it. He starts to shift around the bed, finally opening his eyes. Sweat runs down his temple, hot breathes leaving his moans while he closes his eyes again from the light sun rays that shine onto him. You stop your movements, leaving him whimpering again.

“Good morning honey, mind to share your dream with me?”

You start to move your hand again, slowly to tease him. You lick off some precum with your tongue, going up to his lips. Kissing him softly, you stuck your tongue into his mouth, intertwining it with his. His beautiful eyes look right into yours before you suddenly speed up the movements of your hand on his cock. Mark interrupts the kiss making his head fall back on the pillow. His eyes close from the feeling, a string of saliva still connecting both of your lips.

“ Y/N, baby could you please… let me cum.”

“I'm so sorry but I can't do that, you didn't even answer my question baby boy.”

You move up, hovering over him, your hand still on his cock. Your right hand goes up, cupping his cheek in it. The rose pink blush on his cheeks doesn't go unnoticed by your eyes. Smiling at his appearance you peck his lips again, bringing him to let out an exhausted sigh. You take your hand away from his cock, sitting down on his crotch. A groan leaves Marks mouth accompanied by his closing eyes. You lift your hand up, licking every finger before laying it down onto your boyfriends chest.

“ You had a naugthy dream right baby?”

Mark starts to laugh silently, embarrassed and unsure how to answer. You put your other hand on his other cheek. Both of your hands go down, to his neck and then to his shoulders. You pull him up, Mark shifting beneath of you. The friction against your underwear making you wetter than you already were. Putting your forehead on his, you close your eyes. Soft and desperate breathes hitting against each others lips, waiting for each other to say something.

“You made me so wet baby, the least you can do is lick me clean.”

Your words seem to be the only source of real sound before you lay down on the bed. You take your pajama shirt off while Mark obeys and positions himself between your legs. You see him hesitate. You let out a small laugh, noticing how he waits for your words.

“Take them off you idiot.”

Marks hands drift fast over your legs, up to your thigh and between them. Touching over your hips, he slowly takes off your underwear. You start to hiss as his index finger starts to move over your slit, landing on your clit. Pressing down on it you let out a small moan. Mark start to slide two fingers up and down your clit, pressing now and then on your clit, letting you want more. Noticing the smug smile on Marks face you let one of your hands slide down into his hair. Pulling him up closer to your heat, Mark positions his palms on your thighs.

“ Stop teasing baby if you want to cum today.”

His fingers get replaced by his tongue, making you to moan his name out by the sudden feeling. Pressing his tongue on his clit, his two fingers get back to your core. You scream out for a short moment as you feel one finger entering your hole. Your breathes start to get unsteady, your eyes closing, head thrown back. Suddenly you feel the second finger entering your hole and Marks tongue circling around your clit. Screaming out his name, Mark starts to pound his fingers fast into your pussy making you want to finally release on them. The grip on his hair starts to get stronger as you can't take it anymore.

“Fuck Mark… stop.”

Pulling his head away from your pussy, he looks at you perplexed. Without hesitation you pull him up to you, helping him getting rid of his underwear. You pull him between your legs, already feeling his cock rubbing against your heat making you whimper to Marks hisses. You pull him closer, positioning his tip right in front of your hole.

“ Now fuck me, baby.”

Mark starts to ram into you, just as you liked it. The feeling of him buried deep inside of you made you scream out his name matching to his cries of yours. You feel your high sadly already approaching because of the stimulation from before. Pulling him closer to your body, you feel Marks lips on your right breast. Your back arches back, whines leaving your mouth.

“ You are doing so good honey, cum with me yes.”

You take all off your last strength, pulling yourself up and hovering over you. You needed your release. You put your hands on Marks torso to support yourself as you started to ram yourself back onto his shaft. Your screams started to become louder and louder as you felt yourself approaching to your high as same as Mark. Bobbing yourself up and down like crazy on his dick you finally felt your orgasm near. Marks moans were like music in your ears, his hands touching up your hips to support your movements like water droplets falling down on a fire flame.

“Y/N, Im cumming..cumm..”

You felt Marks hot cum filling you up, still trying to catch your own. Your hand went down to your clit, making circling motions on it. Finally the wave hit over you, eyes rolling back, moans getting even louder and your body feeling a big satisfaction of lust running through your veins. You stay like this before moving down, falling next to Mark into his embrace. You smile, remembering the source of the morning sex.

“What about you tell me in the shower about the dream you this night.”

[sunyoonandstars]

In Between (BTS series) || Chapter 1

This one is based on a request made by the lovely @im-cxnfused. I hope it manages to meet your expectations! 💜

I got very inspired by this request, so it actually turned into a series which I’ll try to update as frequently as possible. 

This is Chapter 1 of the (currently) ongoing series formerly known as “BTS Imagine 5: Namjoon cheating on you & you getting revenge”

I hope you all manage to find the series and its remaining chapters despite the change of name!🙏🏻

Thank you for reading 💜 and sticking to this series! It’s much appreciated! Also, feedback is always welcome, in case you didn’t know. 

Enjoy!

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Chapter Index - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.1, 9.2

Synopsis

You and Namjoon are in a committed relationship. Or so you had thought. When you catch him cheating, however, you decide to take revenge in a way equally brutal. But soon the events take an unforeseen turn, leaving you torn …

Pairing: You x Namjoon, You x Jimin 

angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, occasional hints of smut

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Chapter 1 || Red Converses

You had tried calling Namjoon several times today already, your calls always going straight to voicemail, and your numerous texts, too, had remained unread, not even being delivered. He must’ve turned his phone off, probably to focus on his work, you figured, knowing that he’d been planning on locking himself up in his studio today to finally get some songwriting done after having been stricken with creative block for weeks in a row now. However, you spontaneously decided to leave town for a couple of days, to spend some quality time by the sea with an old friend of yours who is visiting from China, so you wanted to at least let Namjoon know and say your goodbyes before taking off. What you hadn't expected, however, when you had made up your mind to drop by his studio and surprise him, is that you would find the door to it unlocked. And to be faced with the scene right in front of you now. A smile still frozen on your lips, eyes burning, unable to breathe, merely a soundless gasp escaping your lips, you remain standing in the doorway to Namjoon’s studio, paralyzed by shock, feeling your heart being crushed by your chest caving in on itself under the weight of what you see. In disbelief, refusing to trust your own eyes, you blink them. Once. Twice. A dozen times. However, finally, you can’t help but accept that the image painfully etching itself into your memory this instant is indeed real. There is another woman with him. With Namjoon. Your Namjoon. She’s sitting on his lap, facing him, her legs twined around his waist, her slender arms wrapped around his neck, while Namjoon’s big, strong hands - the hands that used to touch only you in such a way - are buried in her long, dark hair. You can hear both of them breathing heavily even from where you stand. And your ears ache with the sound of their lips passionately interlocking. No. No way. This can’t be real. It can't be. Slowly, silently, your knees weak, you take an uncertain step backward, then another, into the empty hallway, closing the door behind you without making a sound, your eyes still wide with horror. There you stay, standing in the middle of the dark corridor, your whole body trembling, hands shaking uncontrollably. Breathe. You have to breathe, Y/N, you remind yourself. But your entire world has just been ripped apart in a matter of seconds, so your body obviously sees no sense in maintaining its basic functions. You can’t even feel its need for oxygen anymore, the expectable burning of your lungs simply missing, not to be sensed. You don’t feel anything right now, not even real anymore. All you can feel is the ground falling away beneath your feet, a dizzy spell threatening to overtake you, your head pounding while your brain desperately tries to process the meaning of what you just witnessed. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. Namjoon would never — But he did. You feel nausea building up in your cramping stomach. You have to get out of here. As far away from him, from them, as you can get. Right now. Cruelly slowly making your way to the exit, breathing heavily, your limbs numb, supporting yourself against the wall, you call your best friend without even giving it a second thought, your fingers operating your phone almost automatically. He picks up immediately. „Jimin-ah, I’m feeling sick“, you barely manage to get out the words, doing your best to hold back a sob. „Can you please come an pick me up?“

„Of course, Y/N!“ You can clearly hear the genuine worry resonating in his soft, familiar voice, the mere sound of it already being of comfort to you. „What happened? Where are you?“ „I’m in front of the studio.“ „But … isn't Namjoon there?“ „He’s busy.“ „Okay …“ Jimin unmistakably hesitates, however, you’re infinitely grateful he seems to have decided not dig any deeper for the moment. „I’m already on my way, Y/N. Hold on! I’ll be right there!“ „Thank you, Jimin-ah.“ You hang up and force yourself to keep going, finally making it outside, shakily inhaling the fresh air, taking one hand to your face in order to shield it against the bright daylight hurting your teary eyes. s. The fucking red Converse’s you were only wearing for him. Because you know Namjoon liked them on you the day you first met. Because he wouldn't stop telling you how he couldn't get enough of you in them.As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, your trembling legs ultimately give out, leading you to stumble and almost fall down the few stairs and to the ground. You barely manage to steady yourself, your free hand firmly gripping the banister next to you, your gaze, directed downwards, involuntarily settling on your shoes. Red Converses. The fucking red Converses you were only wearing for him. Because you know Namjoon liked them on you the day you first met. Because he wouldn't stop telling you how he couldn't get enough of you in them. Suddenly you realize: These aren’t even your shoes your looking down on right now. They are his, just like you believed you were. But they are a lie now. Everything was a lie. Every last one of the sweet nothings he used to whisper to you. Everything. Was. A lie. The abrupt awareness of this harsh truth lets the nausea boil up in you once again, more forcefully this time. Panting, you stagger into a narrow alley, tears streaming down your face while you empty your convulsing stomach onto the sidewalk. You can’t stop vomiting, not even to catch your breath. It’s almost like your body wants to get them all out. All those feelings left for Namjoon. For the man who promised to always protect and never hurt you, to stay true to you and by your side for better or for worse. Who knew how you’d been hurt before and swore you could trust him, to always love you. Always. How ridiculous. The word itself. Preposterous. Nobody can love anyone always or forever. There is no always, no forever. Our time on this planet is limited. And so is our capacity to love another person, it seems. Never had you imagined, though, that Namjoon of all people would betray you like this, that he was even capable of cheating. You’d always believed him to be a mature, honest man. However, people can change, you remind yourself, and obviously never seize to surprise. You just can’t help but wonder what it was that pushed Namjoon over the edge. Was it you? Did you lack something? Did you do something wrong? Didn’t you do your best as the woman by his side? Didn’t you satisfy his needs? Didn't you wait for him patiently, whenever he couldn't make time for you? Didn't you go along with his busy schedule as an idol without ever complaining? Didn't you?

When Jimin arrives, he finds you pacing up and down the pavement in front of the Big Hit building, nervously running your hands through your hair, a frighteningly restless, frantic expression in your eyes, your face white as a sheet, your breathing flat and its rhythm far too rapid. Immediately, he hurries to your side, taking you by the shoulders to stop you in your step. „Hey, Y/N! Calm down! It’s alright. I’m here now. I’m here.“ Torn from your desperately spinning thoughts by the welcome sound of his well-known voice you look up at Jimin, only now made aware of his presence. You don’t even try to resist when he pulls you in for a tight, comforting hug. „You came“, you whisper into his shirt, a single tear of relief making its way down your cheek and seeping into the soft fabric of his sweater. „Of course, I came, Y/N. Now, let’s go. Let’s go home.“ „Not to the dorm!“, you call out, unintentionally raising your voice, pulling away from his embrace. Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise at your unexpectedly strong reaction, he merely nods, reassuring you with a sweet smile. „Alright, Y/N. I’ll drop you off at your apartment then, or wherever you want. I don’t mind where we go. All that matters is that you’re comfortable. Okay?“ „Thank you. But my apartment is perfectly fine.“ „Good“, he smiles at you, his smooth, soothing voice already having a noticeable calming effect on you. „Let’s go then. The cab is waiting just around the corner.“ Gently, he takes you by the elbow and leads you towards the vehicle, proceeding to place you in the backseat and to sit down right next to you, never once letting go of your arm. „Sit back and relax, Y/N“, he tells you, and you gladly comply, closing your eyes while listening to Jimin giving directions to the driver in a low voice and politely asking him to turn down the music, probably afraid your rest would be disturbed otherwise. How can he still be so sweet and caring towards me?, you can’t help but wonder. After what you’d put him through all those years ago. His kindness and forgiveness will most likely forever remain an enigma to you. For now, however, you push aside all thoughts of your shared past and decide to enjoy Jimin’s comfort, settling into the hug he offers once again, leaning your head on his shoulder. „Y/N?“, he cautiously speaks up after few minutes of welcome silence. „Hmm-hmm“, you simply hum in response, unable to muster the strength necessary to open your eyes and look up at him. „I was just wondering … Are you ‚sick‘ sick, or was this another one of your panic attacks?“ You can feel your heart twist in your chest. It’s not ready yet for this kind of talk. „Don’t know“, you reply, keeping it short to hide the shaking of your voice. „You wanna talk about it?“ „No.“ Jimin just nods silently, gently pulling your head closer to his chest, apparently having noticed your muscles tensing up in reaction to his questions. In a slow, tranquilizing rhythm he starts caressing your hair, one arm around your shoulder until he suddenly stops. You can feel his head shoot up. „Yah, Y/N, why aren’t you wearing any shoes!?“ „I puked on them“, you truthfully reply, leaving out unnecessarily painful details. „Should I go back and get them? I could go back after I drop you off and leave them with our dry cleaners. They'll look as good as new once they’re done with them.“ „Don’t bother.“ „But … weren’t they your favorites? Your red Converse Highs? You wear them all the time. They’re basically the only flats you own.“ „Yeah“, you sigh. „But … don’t you love those worn out things? Aren’t they like special to you and Namjoon?“, Jimin keeps asking, sounding increasingly confused, astonished by your indifference. „Forget about it. They’re ruined.“ Your cold, resolute tone keeps him from making any further inquiries. He knows you. He has known you for years, probably better than you know yourself, maybe even better than Namjoon does. He knows your boundaries, and he knows very well not to push them. So Jimin simply decides to offer you his wordless consolation, for now, even unaware of what troubles your heart, stroking your back, his fingers circling across the thin fabric of your shirt, tracing calming shapes and lines on your covered skin. When you finally arrive at your destination he helps you out of the car, your knees still weak, and slowly, with you leaning onto his shoulder, leads you upstairs and inside your small, humble flat. You don’t even need to give him the access code to the front door. Jimin’s fingers still remember the sequence of numbers you’d written down for him over three years ago. „I can take it from here“, you say without looking him in the eye, the two of you still standing in the doorway. „No way, Y/N. I’m not leaving you in this state. I haven’t seen you this shaken up since —“, he pauses, his voice cracking, the silence building up, filling the room in between the two of you, quickly becoming unbearable, smothering. He shoots you a quick inquiring glance, but you try hard not to show any reaction. „Well —“ Jimin clears his throat. You can see his cheeks blushing from the corner of your eye. „I haven't seen you this shaken up in years. I have no idea what happened to get you into this state, and I won’t pry. If you’re ready to tell me, feel free to. You know I’m always there for you, willing to listen. Until then I won’t bother you with any further awkward questions. I just want you to rest and get better, to take care of you as a friend, that’s all. Will you let me?“ Weakly, you nod, signaling him with a gesture of your hand to follow you inside. Jimin gives you a faint smile, his eyes still searching yours for any kind of clue as to what might have stirred you up like this. You simply avert your gaze, however, don’t resist when he takes you by both your shoulders, gently pushing you towards your bedroom. „Now change into something comfortable and lie down. I’ll make you your favorite tea. It’s still that weird blend, cocoa bean, and licorice, right?“ You can’t help but grin. „Yeah, that’s the one.“ His face lights up at your response. „Good. I’ll be right back, Y/N. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime.“ You nod, still grinning to yourself, even after Jimin has left and closed the door behind him. He’s too good to you. A fact you are painfully made aware of once again as your eyes casually sweep over a framed photograph while you get undressed. The picture, placed on your bookshelf, hidden behind a vase, shows Jimin and you, your arm thrown around his neck and his around your waist while you give him a peck on the cheek, your faces beaming in naive happiness. That was another me and another him. Ages ago. Those two people don’t exist anymore, you quickly remind yourself, detaching your gaze from the photograph. As you nestle to your comfortable pillow, however, you are faced with another picture, another memory, sending a sudden, piercing pain through your entire body, originating from your chest, your aching heart. It’s a Polaroid, of you and Namjoon, taken on your birthday in the first year you spent together as an official couple. It was taken by Taehyung, if you remember correctly. He was a little embarrassed by the scene in front of him, taunting you, taking the photo only to show the two of you how disgustingly rampant you were even in public. However, the both of you ended up loving it, the polaroid showing you entangled in each other, you sitting on Namjoons hips, one of his hands placed on your bottom, the other one buried in your hair, your lips locked in a deep, passionate kiss. He’d never been afraid of public display of affection once the two of you had made it official, meaning not only making officially known that you were dating, but that you were deeply, madly in love with each other. Were. Were. What a hurtful little word. You close your eyes and bury your head in your pillows, unable to stand to look at the image for even one more second. However, it keeps haunting you, showing up in your feverish dreams as you sink into a shallow, restless sleep...

To be continued ...

                                                                                             NEXT CHAPTER  ⏭

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[marvelmando]

let there be light - pt. 2

summary: y/n has been living with tony stark since she was three, after a lab accident killed her parents, and left her with the ability to create and manipulate light. since then, she battles as an avenger, and eventually, as a babysitter for a certain new hero. she doesn’t mind it though, because she’s always wanted to live a normal teenage life… and possibly also because peter’s cute.

contains: swearing, angst, fluff

notes: what the actual fuck the last chapter literally blew up i don’t think i can say thank you enough????? i appreciate every single message, reply, note, and reblog, and im sorry if i don’t respond, or upload frequently. i just had major back surgery and im now back at school so im literally drowning in make-up work. but ill try my very very best!!! also: please send me an ask if you’d like to be in my taglist! if you only reply i can’t promise i will see it :) but thank you all sososososo much!!

part 1

For the following two months, Tony you prepare to go undercover at Midtown School of Science and Technology as yourself, Y/N Stark.

Now, you weren’t really the biological child of Tony’s, but his adoptive daughter. For reasons you didn’t know, you’d been sent to live with Tony when you were three, after an accident had killed your parents. Or, at least, you pretended not to know. The real reasons were strictly confidential, and only a handful of people knew besides Tony, Nick Fury, Phil Coulson, and the highest ranks in government.

Keeping secrets was second nature to you by now, which made you ideal for an undercover mission. Also, Natasha had taught you a few things after your heroic debut in the Battle of New York, wherein after you became a full-fledged Avenger despite only being 11 years old.

The world had not yet known that Tony Stark had a daughter, whether biological or not, which made you unsure. However, Tony made the point that you were going to grow up into an adult one day, and he hoped that you would keep his surname. Of course, as a slightly anxiety-ridden girl, you worried that would cause a lot of unwanted attention towards you. But Tony was right. Besides, what other surname could you use?

Now, you weren’t really going undercover at Midtown. You didn’t have a fake name or a fake backstory, like you usually would. You were just... you. But you were going undercover to Peter, as Artemis. You would watch over him, guide him as a fellow superhero by night, and a friendly girl by day.

Luckily, and not surprisingly, Tony had already thought ahead.

Now that he didn’t have much to worry about Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, he put most of his effort into this spider kid. Sometimes you wouldn’t see Tony for days, as he holed himself away in his workshop, only briefly scampering to the kitchen for water and food.

You were concerned about Tony. You knew about his nightmares, and vaguely about something called Thanos, but every time you tried to confront him, Tony would shut you down.

“Hey, Kiddo, ready for your first day of school?” A brown paper bag plopped on the counter in front of you.

Looking up, you saw Tony across from you, sporting a tight smile. The corner of your lips twitched as you snatched the bag. “Ready as ever.”

Tony drove you to school in his Audi R8, obviously the most conservative car he owned. The drive was long and silent, as you mulled over everything that could possibly go wrong.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Tony awkwardly reached over the console and patted your hand, which was rested on your knee. “You’re gonna do fine, Light-bulb. After all, you are a Stark.”

This made you smile genuinely, as you thanked him with your eyes. For the past twelve years you’ve lived with Tony, as much as he was caring, you never felt like you belonged there. As much as you had the last name, you weren’t sure that you could be a Stark.

Pulling into the school, you could see heads turning as you passed, through the tinted windows. You instinctively shrunk in your seat, feeling as if bugs were crawling over your skin.

The car in front of you, a silver convertible, honked its horn twice, as a lanky figure dodged it as he crossed the street. Almost immediately, you recognized the boy as Peter. He hurried up the stairs of the school, and you had Tony stop the car.

You stumbled out of the car, giving Tony a quick goodbye. You barely noticed the whispers and the glances as you hurried your pace to catch up with the boy.

“Peter!” You whisper-yelled, although you weren’t sure why. It’s not like you were trying to keep your interactions a secret.

After months of doing research on his powers, you knew he had heightened senses. However, if he heard you, he didn’t act like it. You figured he hadn’t, due to the earbuds in his ears, and the loud chattering of the students.

You pushed your way through the crowd, watching as Peter slipped in the front doors. You kept him in your sight, weaving through the conglomerates of social groups clogging up the hallways.

At one point, something had tugged on your hair, hard. Apparently, one of the students had a drone of some sort, and was struggling to control the thing. It got caught in your hair as you passed, and the boy holding the control squeaked as the drone continued to malfunction. Trying not to break the device, you took hold of it.

You untangled your strands from the metal, and handed it back to the kid. He was younger than you, skinny, with dark skin and glasses too large for his face. He took his drone with shaky hands, and pushed his glasses back up his nose. He stuttered out an apology, and you gave him a warm smile.

“Try fixing the circuit board, one of the motor hinges is loose.” You said as you walked away from him. The kid’s jaw dropped. You laughed to yourself.

Once again looking for a sign of the curly-haired boy, you made your way down the hall. You noticed a group of cheerleaders, who had suddenly taken an interest in you. They whispered among themselves, looking you up and down as you passed. You gripped the strap of your backpack tighter.

You almost hadn’t seen it, but there Peter was, at a locker behind the cheerleaders.

“Peter!” You sighed in relief, and hurried towards him. “Thank god I found you, I almost—” 

You stopped shortly when you noticed the larger boy across from Peter, mouth open mid-sentence, and holding a small Lego figure. “Is that Emperor Palpatine?”

Both boys’ eyes widened.

“Um, hey, Y/N, ri—right? What—uh, what are you doing here?” Peter laughed awkwardly, folding his arms. “And—you know who Emperor Palpatine is?”

You shrugged, clutching your backpack. “I’ve got a lot of time on my hands. But um, yeah, I kind of go here now?”

The chubby boy looked back and forth between you and Peter, obviously confused.

“Oh! Um, Y/N this is Ned, my best friend. Ned, this is Y/N—”

“Hi,” You held your hand out so he could shake it. He seemed hesitant, still perplexed at how you and Peter knew each other. “I, um, work for Tony Stark. That’s how we know each other.”

“Right!” Peter cried, realizing now what your angle was. “The internship.”

Ned seemed satisfied at this answer, the shy expression from earlier gone and replaced with a bright grin. “Well, you like Star Wars! Right? Because I got this sick Death Star Lego set, and it has 3,803 pieces!”

“That’s insane!”

“Wow, that sounds rad.” You chuckled, and you heard the group of cheerleaders snicker, as one of them didn’t even attempt to hide their distaste as the said, “so lame”. You looked down at your feet, hiding your face as you tried to contain your embarrassment.

“I know right! So I was wondering if you wanted to build it tonight?” The three of you began to walk down the halls, and you walked beside Peter, Ned on his other side. “You can come too, Y/N!”

Before you could respond, Peter stepped in. “No, I can’t tonight, I’ve got the Stark—”

“Stark internship. Always about that internship.” Peter scratched his neck. “What about you, then, Y/N, or do you have the internship too?”

“No, um, I’m free tonight.” You smiled across at Ned. You were looking forward to go home so you could read or work of Spider-Man’s AI system, but you reminded yourself that this was good—normal. Hanging out with other teens after school. Right?

Peter shot you a look but you avoided his gaze.

The two friends began to discuss jobs, but you watched your feet, clutching your class schedule from your pocket.

While Ned talked on about the Death Star, Peter’s focus drifted. His footsteps faltered, and his eyes pinched in the corners so it looked like they were smiling. Curious as to what caught Peter’s attention, you followed his gaze.

Whoever this girl was, she was beautiful. Her skin was tan and smooth, and even though she was only in a sweater and a skirt, she still managed to look like a model. Her lips were full and her eyes were warm, and you couldn't help but shiver. You looked down at yourself, noting the dull skin color and frizzy hair, paired with jeans and your old band t-shirt, and wondered if anyone would ever look at you like that.

Glancing at your schedule with a heavy heart and an aching feeling behind your nose, you realized that class started in just five minutes and you still had no idea where you were going.

“Hey, um, do either of you have AP Physics with Mrs. Warren?” You asked.

Ned nodded. “Yeah, Peter does. He could take you there.”

Peter smiled to himself, although it appeared as though he wasn’t even listening to you. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

At that moment, a sharp ringing noise sounded. You cringed at the horrible sound. “That’s the warning bell.” Ned told you.

“I’m gonna be late, shit.” You glanced up at Peter. You grabbed his clothed arm gently, drawing him out of his trance. Looking down at you, you took in the warmth of his dark eyes. “You ready?”

He nodded, head turning to catch the pretty, dark-skinned girl disappear behind a wall of lockers.

As it turned out, you shared all of your classes with Peter Parker. You were grateful to have someone you knew in all of your classes, but you were annoyed at the great probability that Tony had meddled in your scheduling. You had to remind yourself, however, that you were not just here for the hell of it, but you were actually supposed to be “babysitting” the new hero.

But as much as you tried to tell yourself that this was only a mission, you couldn’t help but feel like this was going to turn into something much more.

At the moment, Peter sat next to you with his head buried in the screen of his laptop, as he diligently watched a video of Spider-Man stopping a car from smashing into the side of a bus. You rolled your eyes at his lack of subtly. How did everyone not know his secret by now?

“Okay, so how do we calculate linear acceleration between points A and B?” The teacher pointed to the board, and then to a kid that sat in the row in front of you. “Flash.”

“It’s the product of sine of the angle and gravity divided by mass.” He answered confidently. You snickered, knowing he got it wrong.

“Nope.” Mrs. Warren said. “Peter. You still with us?”

Peter’s head snapped up, only taking a second to look at the board before answering. “Uh, yeah, yeah.” He shut his laptop carefully. “Uh... Mass cancels out, so it’s just gravity times sine.”

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you were impressed at how easily Peter managed to get everything correct, despite the distractions.

The teacher also seemed impressed, but not surprised. “Right. See, Flash, being the fastest isn’t always the best if you are wrong.”

As the class snickered, Flash turned in his seat to Peter and whispered, “You’re dead.”

You narrowed your eyes at the boy. You wanted to reach over and smack him upside the head, but you promised to behave. For some reason, Peter had been glancing back at the clock hanging up on the wall every couple of minutes.

The next period, Peter had used the opportunity to mix some of his web fluid right in the middle of class. You were close to screaming at that point. This kid was definitely going to get caught. You made sure to warn him with a harsh whisper whenever the chemistry teacher neared.

After that was lunch. You sat across Ned and Peter, and glanced down the nearly empty table, save for the girl immersed in a book a couple of seats down. Digging into your school-bought lunch, you noticed Peter’s glazed over eyes as his head rested on his propped up arm.

You turned, realizing he was staring at the same pretty girl from earlier, who stood on a ladder, hanging up a paper sign that had “Homecoming Is Almost Here! Are You Ready” in painted cursive. You turned back around, stabbing your steamed broccoli angrily with your fork. 

You weren’t sure why exactly you were mad, you barely knew Peter. Perhaps it was the adoring and endearing look in Peter’s expression that made your stomach twist itself into knots.

“Did Liz get a new top?” Peter said absentmindedly. You glanced up, but he was still transfixed on the girl, Liz. Even her name was beautiful.

No. We’ve seen that before, but never with that skirt.” Ned answered.

“We should probably stop staring before it gets creepy.” Peter mentioned, but it seemed like he wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon.

“Too late.” The girl a couple of seats piped up, startling you. You faintly noticed a purple section in her ponytail. “You guys are losers.” She turned back to her novel.

“And absolutely ludicrous.” You quipped, and met eyes with the girl, who gave you a small, amused smirk in return.

“Well, then why do you sit with us?” Ned pointed out.

“Because I don’t have any friends.” The girl responded, effectively ending the conversation.

Somehow, Tony managed to get you into the Academic Decathlon team with little dispute, which is where you went next.

You sat on the sidelines, observing the team, as Liz quizzed them. The members were funny and eccentric, and you liked most of them, except for Flash, who was on the team somehow.

You watched Peter as he talked to the team’s sponsor, Mr. Harrington. “Peter, it’s Nationals. Is there no way you can take one weekend off?”

“I can’t go to Washington because if Mr. Stark needs me, I have to make sure I’m here.” Peter said, clearly exasperated. You watched him intently, wanting to say something about how Tony would most likely not call on him for another mission again anytime soon, but feared his response in case he grew suspicious.

“You’ve never even been in the same room as Tony Stark.” Flash shouted.

“Wait, what’s happening?” One girl asked.

“Peter’s not going to Washington.” Said another girl, lying on the floor on her stomach next to them.

Cries of protest came from Peter’s teammates, as one kid, who you knew was Abraham, dinged the bell to ask, “Why not?”

“Really?” Liz asked, genuinely concerned but too sweetly for your liking. “Right before Nationals?”

“He already quit marching band and robotics club.” The girl from lunch, Michelle, Peter told you, mentioned. As heads turned to look curiously at her, she simply shrugged. “I’m not obsessed with him; I’m just very observant.”

“Flash, you’re in for Peter.” Liz announced.

“Oof, I don’t know.” Flash said. “I gotta check my calendar first. I got a hot date with Artemis coming up.”

Before you could stop yourself, you snorted loudly. “As if.” You scoffed, before realizing what you had said. Everyone looked at you, and you hid your face behind your hair again.

The rest of the school day, Peter grew increasingly restless. By the time the final bell rung, Peter shot out of his seat and bolted for the door.

You could have easily caught up to him if you were allowed to use your powers, and you were practically itching to release the contained energy. But you couldn’t, so you didn’t.

“Peter!” You called out to him, crashing through the doors after him. You saw him jump the extremely tall fence, and cursed at him silently.

Knowing already what you needed to do, you met Happy in the car waiting for you the next street down.

“Happy, take me home, and make it quick. I gotta change.”

TAGLIST:

@phoenix-fire-fangirl @twenty-two-airplanes @i-love-superhero @andyl394 @milllionthingsihaventdone @eliza-hamilton-helpless @pugsandkisses14 @oxodianaoxo @arctxcv @vanam0 @scorpiostunner1027 @prancingdestiel @tmrhollandkay @miathefangirlwriter

[kokkoro]

Violet Blue (3/?)

more of this cause im a sap and it’s the holidays

summary: General wolf rules for life: Eat. Rest. Rove in between. Render loyalty. Love the children. Cavil in moonlight. Tune your ears. Attend to the bones.  Make love. Howl often.     Clarissa Pinkola Estes

or

being moms is hard, being werewolf moms in the suburbs is even harder. aka christmas in the woods household (on ao3)

You hear the first soft patter of feet around three when the night is still heavy and dark beyond your window, the wind shaking the pane as the snow beats against it outside. It’s little hushed whispers, Jack and Danny’s voices unmistakable even now, and you lift your head from the pillow, blinking away the sleep to watch the shadows pass by under your door.

Beside you there is an pronounced noise of displeasure as Clarke presses further into your side, grumbling as she attempts to find another comfortable spot after the sudden and unwelcome movement in the bed. And she doesn’t stop squirming until you’ve wrapped your arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

“Your kids are awake,” you whisper, settling back in, voice rough, and at Clarke’s exasperated sigh you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips.

“So am I,” Clarke mutters back, a bit listless. Her breath fans across you neck, long and warm, and there’s a boneless quality to her that you can practically feel. She sinks into the mattress beneath the covers like dead weight and you know nothing short of a miracle is going to get her to move.

“Unfortunate.”

“Very,” she mumbles.

“You don’t think they’ll open the presents, do you?”

Clarke sighs, rubbing her forehead against your collar. “If they do we’ll know. The odds of them being able to copy your wrapping job is slim.”

“What does that mean?”

She shrugs, and you think she uses the motion to try and scoot herself closer. “You’re impeccable with tape.”

“Thank you.”

“Not a compliment.”

You chuckle, kissing her forehead, her cheek. She grins a little despite herself and like she says, you don’t hear anything besides the wind and the snow and the creak of the furnace as it works. There’s something else too, quiet giggles and the shuffling of presents.

“I think they know better,” Clarke says after a moment. Her fingers find your skin, tracing her nails above the waistband of your sweats. “They just want to see if they can guess.”

“Too excited to sleep?”

Clarke snorts. “Like somebody else I know.”

“I’m a light sleeper, Clarke.”

“You’re telling me like I haven’t dealt with that fact for the past seven years.”

“So are you.”

“It’s a curse,” she says, and you can tell she’s smiling as she presses her lips softly to the hollow of your throat. “If you’re awake, I’m awake.”

You pick yourself up a little bit to kiss her fully, resting your weight on your forearm and dipping down. She hums and you can taste the remnants of the toothpaste on her tongue.

“Go back to sleep, lexa,” she manages when you pull away, breath soft over your mouth. You lean in and steal another instead. “We have four hours, maybe,” another kiss, “before we’re bombarded.” and another. “I kinda want to make the most of them if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead.”

“Don’t play coy with me,” she says and you laugh. It’s a moment, her eyes searching in the darkness, but she leans forward to kiss you and you smile through it. You sink beside her with your face tucked in the crook of her neck, her pulse a slow beat just below her skin.

You get three. At 6:30 when the sun is just barely visible through your bedroom window, the door opens and the sound of tiny feet carry across your room, piling onto the bed and jostling you awake. You peek from the covers and see Lily’s face and her baby toothed grin, Jack, Danny, and Aden giggling as the drape themselves across Clarke who hides beneath the comforter.

“It’s christmas!” Jack says to the lump, plump little cheeks dimpled into a grin, Aden nodding next to him in agreement.

“Ten more minutes,” the lump answers back, but that is far from a deterrent.

“But it’s christmas!” Danny repeats, and you turn to look, Lily snuggled against you, lips quirked at the expression you find. If there was a picture next to disappointment in the dictionary it would be Danny’s face.

It’s a second before Clarke throws off the covers, hair a wild mess, and the kids squeal, a mix of laughter and screams as they scatter from the bed, Clarke hot on their heels, chasing them from the room.

You and Lily share a look and it makes you smile as you push aside the sheets. “Let’s go get your sister.”

She wraps her little arms around your neck as you sit up. You adjust her on your hip once you’re standing. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah,” she says, grinning when you lean in to kiss her cheek, her little hands curled into your t-shirt.

Lily shares a room with Madi, and you find her with her arms over the top of the (teeth-marked) railing of her crib, attempting a prison break. Sooner rather than later she’s going to do it and you’re not going to be ready for it, scrambling over so she can wrap her arms around your neck and you can use your free arm to pull her up.

“Careful.”

Madi mumbles incoherently into your neck, shaking her head and you barely make it downstairs before she starts wiggling, noticing Clarke and then the others by the tree in the living room, scouring the presents for their names. She runs that little hobbling run, throwing herself across Clarke who’s reclined on the couch and Clarke draws her up, pecking her nose with a small kiss.

You place Lily down gently and she’s quick to join the others, finding a place by the tree while you survey the chaos from the side. Madi moves away once she’s satisfied with the attention given, assessing the jump from the couch to the floor with a tongue peeking between her teeth. You can see the decision she makes and apparently so does clarke, who bolts upright at the first sign of movement. She reaches for Madi’s arm right as she’s about to leap.

“Jesus,” clarke breathes, hesitant to let go even after madi’s little feet are firmly planted on the ground. “What did we say about jumping from the couch?”

Madi shakes her head, eyes downcast. “No.”

“That’s right.” Clarke pinches her cheek. “No jumping.”

Clarke waits until Madi nods her understanding to finally loosen her grip and she’s off towards the others within seconds.

You smile when Clarke sighs, moving from your observation point to crouch near the tree with the kids, sorting through the presents and helping them with names. Aden finds his easily, prideful in the way he puffs his chest as he shows you a present from santa with his name scrawled on it. The other’s require a bit of help, and you sort through the gifts under the tree until each kid has something to open.

It’s a mess of paper once you give the okay nod and they waste no time. Jack is grinning long before he’s even managed to rip open the paper, but Danny tears through the wrapping within seconds and you watch as her face lights up the second she sees the small baseball glove, completely foregoing the other tie-in presents (a tee and a small bat and a couple of baseballs) to try it on.

She squeals when it fits, turning to beam up at you. “Look!” she says, holding up her hand. “Look, momma, Santa. Santa knew!”

“I told you he would.”

She goes back to her presents with this wide eyed wonder, pawing at the others in an attempt to open them without taking the glove off. And it works, it merely takes her a little bit.

Aden is showing Clarke the books he got, and you can tell she knows you’re staring by the way her lips curl in an almost smile. She glances your way in a moment of lull as Aden searches for something else to show off and you mouth ‘coffee?’ to which she nods gratefully.

You listen to the muffled noises and gleeful squeals and Clarke’s soft interest as you go about putting the coffee together. Setting the filter and adding the grinds. Pouring the water. The machine grumbles and you watch over your shoulder as Madi opens up a box that houses a pair of colorful light up sneakers that are actually more for you because you thought they were cute and Clarke had been too endeared with you to tell you no. She has them on her hands, stomping them against the floor to see the lights go off.

When you return, lily’s already made herself at home in her very own purple bean-bag chair, clutching her new, and rather large, stuffed animal tightly to her chest (a wolf because ironically or not they’re her favorite). You tread carefully over toys and wrapping paper, tucking yourself close to Clarke. You hand off her mug and kiss her cheek.

“A success?”

Clarke’s lips curl, and she turns from watching the kids to tilt her head and kiss you back. First softly along your jaw and then carefully on your lips.

“Sure, I’d say so,” she says, not quite pulling away, forehead touching against yours. She stays as close as she can until the kids pull her attention away, Jack face-planting into his barely unwrapped blue bean-bag, giggling insistently at the crinkling sounds it causes. “They’re not going to want to sleep in their beds.”

“Probably not one of our better ideas,” you mutter back, dipping for another kiss.

“Momma!”

You pull away to look down at Danny clutching your leg and Clarke rests her head on your shoulder.

“We need to go outside,” she states, a determined sparkle to her eye. “Right now.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

Your mouth quirks into a grin and you lean forward. “Why?”

“‘Cuz,” she says, tongue stumbling, “‘cuz you said we can’t play ball in the house.”

That does sound like something you would say. You glance at Clarke and she rolls her eyes fondly, picking up her weight from against you and then hauling herself from the couch with her cup of coffee. You heave a tiny sigh.

At least she listened to you.

“Okay--” and you know the moment that word is out of your mouth she stopped listening, bouncing on her feet. “Only a for a few minutes, there’s breakfast to eat and--”

Danny’s already gone. You see her sprint for the back door without shoes and a coat and you know that won’t stop her. If you were back home in the woods you might let her, but that’s neither here nor there. You put aside your barely touched mug of coffee and follow her. Luckily for you she still has trouble with the door.

You fish out a coat and her little boots from the closet in the hall and crouch beside her. “Your jacket, missy.”

She has to take off the glove so you can guide her arms through the sleeves and she’s a little sad but it doesn’t last long. You sit on the floor to help her with the boots and she plops down between your legs so you can wiggle them on, fastening the velcro and then giving a tug to make sure their snug. She clambers to her feet with the glove and a baseball and waits impatiently by the door for you to put on shoes and a coat. When you’re finally dressed, you undo the lock for the door and she’s off.

Danny makes it halfway into the backyard, stumbling through the nearly five inches of snow that fell last night, before checking to make sure you followed. “Momma!”

You smile at her, shutting the screen door behind you. The snow crunches under your boots, Danny’s footsteps tiny beside yours in the snow.

For a four year old Danny does exceptionally well. She can’t throw very far or very accurately for that matter, but (and it’s probably the wolf in her) the glove is put to good use. You start off close and make your way up to long stretches, spread out over the backyard and she catches it nine times out of ten, sprinting there and back, eyes wide and mouth in a permanent smile, breath expelling in a fog.

If she wants to, she could be great.

“Lexa.”

You turn at the sound of Clarke’s voice and the squeak of the door swinging open--the crunch of the snow under a multitude of tiny feet. Out of the corner of your eye you catch the smirk on Clarke's lips as she stands in the doorway, but you only make it three feet before you’re overrun.

You tumble into the snow, bits of it sneaking its way under your shirt and down the back of your coat. Danny must feel left out because she’s quick to make her way over to you and her siblings, adding her weight to the pile with barely contained laughter.

The cold sinks in quickly, but you don’t mind.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Mm...” you hum in lieu of a response, not bothering to pick your head up from the couch or even open your eyes. You can’t move, at least not without disturbing the five kids nestled around you, and apart from the elbow digging into your ribs you don’t want to. They’re warm, and having them all around you is a surefire way to put you to sleep. You open your eyes anyway though, peeking at Clarke’s soft smile.

You clear your throat. “Just you.”

A blush colors Clarke’s cheeks and she leans in to kiss you tenderly. “I think the capacity of this couch has been filled,” she says, shaking her head in amusement when you pucker your bottom lip into a pout. It makes her kiss you again and it’s an acceptable alternative.

“Do you need help with anything?”

Clarke stands, pushing off from her knees, and you follow her movements with tired eyes.

She brushes the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “No,” she says. “Thank you, though.”

You wake up an hour or two later, the living room gone dark besides the light flickering from the fireplace. But you see the blonde of Clarke’s hair, her cheek squished against cushion from where she’s found a spot on the floor propped up against the couch. Her face is inches from yours and you can feel her breath ghost over your nose and cheeks.

You wiggle your right hand out from under stomach, reaching for her hand. Her fingers are cold against your own, but hopefully with a little help they’ll be warm in no time.