Tumgik
#look i had a thought in the shower and slammed my forehead against my keyboard dont think too hard abt this
kotaka-kun · 5 months
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am i crazy or. would erik absolutely love twilight. unironically. calls it a romance for the ages. owns maybe an unhealthy amount of merch at some point.
because like 1.) erik is a dracula fanboy, it wouldnt be a stretch to say that it could extend to all vampires, and thats how it gets on his radar to begin with 2.) he would absolutely identify with edwards whole "im a monster" vibe (not to mention the killer part) 3.) there is no universe in which he doesnt yearn to be wanted as much as bella wants edward. to be pursued, wanted, loved, despite what he is... what could he wish for more than that?
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gustavsbrainneuron · 2 months
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤInterrupted dream.
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ㅤㅤㅤ2011 Tom Kaulitz × female reader.
Warnings: fluff & smut, unprotected sex, p in v (riding Tom yumyumyum), Tom eating out reader while she is sleepy, all CONSENSUAL.
Author's note: OK IM FUCKING SORRY IF THE SMUT PART LOOKS LIKE SHIT, I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED HALF OF IT AND HAD TO WRITW ALL AGAIN BECAUSE I WNATED TO POST THAT SHIT TODAY, IM GOING CQRAZYYYYY. Also sorry if there are any mistakes, english isn't my first language. 🙂‍↕️
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"If you don't finish these slides for your presentation by the day after tomorrow, I'll fire you!" The boss said in a stern voice; that echoed in my head and the only thing I was thinking about was how I wanted to punch this mustachioed old man in the face and get out of there. My thoughts were interrupted when he left my office slamming the door, the sound of wood hitting the frame making the table in front of me shake slightly. I just sighed, my hands working on the keyboard of the computer that looked like the oldest in the world - it was slow as fuck, one click and it took fucking 6 minutes to react.
Without thinking, I continued working as I only thought about how much I wanted to go away and see my boyfriend, Tom. He should probably be rehearsing with his band right now, creating riffs, making melodies..I wanted to be there with him right now, just watching him play his guitar and the band creating new music; however, I had to stay in that office for at least the next 3 hours, working on a boring presentation that I will have to present in 2 days. Bummer. Three o'clock passed slowly, as if the clock was 40 minutes behind every time an hour passed, probably because of boredom and stress. I couldn't stand another day in this place, I felt on the verge of throwing all that paperwork up and throwing that monitor that looked more like a gigantic engine making helicopter noises - out the window.
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When I finally got home, I just took off my shoes and put on my slippers, Tom heard me coming so quickly he left the room and I heard his hurried footsteps, he came to me; welcoming me with an contagious smile, which made me smile back at him and come closer, hugging him.
"I missed you." Tom said, I could hear his smile in the way his voice came out. He was always so excited to see me, it's cheesy - but I felt myself falling more and more in love with him.
"I missed you too, babe." I replied back, my voice showing slight exhaustion, but I tried to hide it, my body relaxing against the larger figure that hugged me.
"How was today? Are you okay?" He questioned with concern, his hands coming to rest on my waist; pressing the skin lightly with his long, large fingers.
"It was very tiring but I'm fine. Did everything go well in the studio?" My voice indicated concern at the same level as him, taking my hands to the back of his neck, stroking some of the black braids that were there while I buried my face in his chest, closing my eyes.
Tom chuckled, looking down when he felt my face against his pecs. "Of course, everything worked out and we are planning a new album." He replied, his knees bending slightly so he could place a kiss on the top of my head, almost on my forehead. "You seem a lot more tired than usual, how about a shower? We can even watch a movie later, if you want." he suggested as I moved my face away from his chest, putting distance between our bodies; but as Tom didn't like to be without physical contact, he removed his hands from my waist but brought one of his hands to mine, holding our hands together.
"That sounds like a perfect idea, are you a mind reader?" I asked playfully, laughing softly and hearing Tom's laugh mix with mine, leaving me feeling better than ever after such an unbearable day.
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Tom guided me to the bathroom, gently pulling me by the hand, he did all the work, helping me remove my clothes first and then his. While he took off his clothes, I went to the shower and turned on warm water; putting my hand under the water, checking if it was too hot or too cold. When the water was at a pleasant temperature, I went under the water, wetting my hair and giving Tom space to enter as well.
"Can I wash your hair?" He said almost with a pleading tone on his voice as he looked down at me. I hesitated to answer him, after all, I didn't want to give him so much work, we were both tired.
"You don't need to wash it if you-" I tried to respond before he interrupted me. "I want to wash it, honey." he said, as if he already knew my answer - was I really that predictable? He stretched his muscular body to grab the shampoo, placing a small portion on one of his large hands before running it through my hair, rubbing my scalp gently as he waited for the foam to appear. I looked at his face, our naked bodies facing each other made me think about how intimate we were and how attentive he was to me, I loved him so much.
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After the shower he even offered to dry my hair, he didn't exactly offer...he stated that he would dry my hair, no matter if I said "no, I don't want to give you too much work" and who was I to disagree with that statement? I let him dry my hair, the air from the dryer not being too hot so as not to damage my hair.
"Hmmm. Your hair smells so good, I would stay all day with my face in your hair if I could." He commented, his voice loud enough for me to be able to understand him over the sound of the hairdryer. His body was bent slightly, his handsome face approaching the back of my head which was covered by some of my hair; just to smell it more closely, so that he could still dry the rest of my hair and see me in the mirror.
"Stop being silly! let's finish soon so we can go see a movie. I still have to finish some work things." I smiled gently as I looked at him in the mirror, his face lifting from the back of my head, our eyes meeting momentarily. He saw my smile and just smiled back, still drying my hair; his right hand holding the hairdryer handle, slowly moving the electronic device left and right, making the hot air reach almost all of my hair, drying my strands quickly.
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Finally wearing pajamas, lying together on the couch, a bucket of popcorn on my hands, we started watching a movie that I chose because it was about an hour and a half long. The movie was playing on our television, while we were eating popcorn, we were spooning, with me being the smaller spoon and Tom being the bigger spoon. I gave him some popcorn because I needed to reward him after he washed my hair and dried it too - he was definitely the best boyfriend any girl could have, I was so lucky. His left hand was on my waist while we watched the movie, he squeezed the skin in that area from time to time, in a gesture of affection and protection and he never failed to make me feel loved and protected, without a shadow of a doubt.
During the movie, we laughed, talked and stuffed ourselves with popcorn - maybe we talked more and paid less attention to the film but that's ok, it wasn't like there was going to be a test about the movie after we finished watching it.
"If you were a super duper professional movie reviewer, what grade would you give the movie?" I questioned curiously, my body now facing his; instead of spooning. My eyes kept looking up, watching his dark brown eyes, waiting for an answer while he let out a long "hmm" thinking about an answer, looking into my eyes with a thoughtful and relaxed expression at the same time.
"First of all, what makes you think I'm not a super duper movie reviewer?" He questioned back, his tone dripping with sassiness, his gaze showing teasing. I rolled my eyes and slapped him lightly on the chest, eliciting a hearty laugh from his lips, which made me give a silly smile in response. "Okay...I'd give it...a pretty solid 7.6, considering several funny scenes. Especially the one with the man tripping that we laughed a lot at. The scenery isn't bad either, but I've seen better." His voice was forced; actually trying to imitate a fancy critic who knew what he was talking about, which made me start laughing and caused his character to break - as he started laughing too, bringing his face closer to shower my face with little kisses as we laughed.
But as all good things eventually come to an end, we had to get up and leave our "cocoon". I went to clean the popcorn bucket, while Tom tidied up the living room, especially the couch; folding the blankets, arranging the cushions and cleaning up some crumbs that accidentally fell during the movie. While I was cleaning the popcorn bucket in the kitchen, I got distracted by my thoughts, now I was going to have to go finish that damn presentation to send to my boss. My thoughts were interrupted, this time it wasn't by my boss closing the door but by Tom coming to hug me from behind, his hands finding themselves in front of my abdomen and putting light pressure there, while his face lowered to rest on my shoulder. His body was pressed against my back - and that's not a complaint, I loved being like that with him, even in silence. Today he was much more needy than normal, normally he can stay longer without physical contact with me but today he seemed to want me close to him all the time.
"Did you manage to finish cleaning the couch?" My voice was very low and gentle, waiting for a response but I just felt his head on my shoulder moving up and down; indicating that yes, he was done, he just wanted to stand there and hug me. I smiled broadly, finishing cleaning the popcorn bucket and removing the excess water, placing the bucket to dry on the dish rack. As soon as I finished, I gently separated my body from Tom's, turning so we were facing each other, looking up at him.
"Are you okay?" I watched him with slight concern, his needy hands already making their way to my slim waist, pulling me closer to him as he kept his gaze on mine.
"I've been thinking about you all day, you know?" Tom said rhetorically, squeezing my waist lightly as he lowered his face towards my face; getting close enough to make me close my eyes, thinking he was going to kiss me, but he moved past my face and placed his chin on my collarbone, placing kisses there on my neck. My skin crawled as I felt his short beard brushing lightly against the warm skin of my neck and also felt his lip piercing, cold against my warm skin. I could understand his intentions, even a blind person could understand what he wanted. As much as I wanted, I had to finish the presentation as soon as possible, so I gasped softly and opened my eyes, placing my hands on his broad shoulders and moving him gently away from my neck.
"Sorry honey, I need to finish my a presentation by the day after tomorrow." I said almost like an apology, seeing the tall boy lift his head and watch me, squeezing my waist again; he needed a place to take out his desire, huh?
"It'll be quick, I promise. Please?" He begged with the most insistent puppy eyes in the world, caressing my waist in search of a "yes".
"How about tomorrow?" I suggested as I took my right hand to caress his cheek gently, looking into his eyes and reflecting the same desire he had, but knowing that I have responsibilities. Tom just nodded and sighed at the idea of having to wait until tomorrow, getting closer - if that was even possible. "Can I at least get a kiss?" As soon as he finished speaking, I brought our faces closer and began a calm kiss, the cold sensation of his piercing taking over my lips while I kept my hand on his cheek, my thumb caressing his face and feeling the short beard there. Our tongues danced together, almost as if they had a life of their own. Tom's hands went under my loose pajama top, caressing the skin on my back, making my breathing become shaky. He did this on purpose, just wanting to see me getting goosebumps, what a son of a bitch.
The kiss stopped due to lack of oxygen - which sucked, since I could keep kissing his lips until I died and I would still die happy. Opening my eyes, I breathe again, breathing deeply, but not exaggeratedly. I watched him; and he had a silly smile on his lips, which made my cheeks light up with a light red tone, smiling back.
"Don't just stand there and stare at me like a zombie, let's go to the bedroom. I have to finish the presentation while...well, you can try to sleep if you want." I said, pulling away from him, joining our hands and pulling him carefully towards our bedroom.
"A zombie? Is that what I looked like? I was admiring you, asshole." He replied, pretending to be offended while maintaining that same stupid smile, making his eyes almost become a straight line because of the smile that took up space on his face. In response I just shook my head negatively, giggling.
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As soon as we got to our room, I let go of his hand and let him go to bed - if he already wanted to go to sleep. I walked in big steps, reaching a desk in the corner of our room and turning on my computer; which, by the way, was much more up to date than the one I had in the office. I dragged the chair with wheels back and sat there, forcing my body forward until I fit my body on the table so I could see the computer screen better and finally; finish this presentation that is bothering me and not allowing me to spend more time with Tom. As I typed and typed, time passed slowly, which was good and bad at the same time. It was good because it meant I had more time to finish and spend more time with Tom and it was bad because I felt like I was doing the presentation very slowly.
I finally managed to finish it after a few hours there, my eyes were almost closed and my posture was completely forward; so that my head was lying on the cold wood of the table while all I had to do was send this to my boss. I looked at the small time indicator in the corner of my computer screen, showing that it was 1:56 AM. Before I could send the presentation to my boss, Tom approached with slower steps since he was probably sleepy too and without saying anything, he just closed my computer and picked me up bridal style - taking me away from the desk and the computer. I let out a sigh, worrying about the presentation for a few seconds, but remembered that it would be saved and I could send it to my boss when I woke up tomorrow morning. So I just accepted Tom's embrace, placing my face against his shoulder, even though his steps were slow, they managed to reach the bed very easily, so he placed me on the bed and joined me straight after placing me there. When he did that, I covered our bodies, turning sideways to face him.
"You shouldn't have to stay working late, honey." He said first in a strained, low voice, gently scolding me for working late.
"I know, I'm sorry. I just need to deliver this presentation soon." I responded to him, feeling one of his hands come to my face, cupping and caressing my cheek affectionately; his thumb almost taking over my face because his hands are big and my face is small.
"No need to apologize. You know I have enough money to support both of us, right?" I waited for him to finish speaking before answering with "I don't want to feel like I'm a leech on your money, Tom." In response he snorted slightly at what I said, as if I had just said the stupidest thing he had ever heard, moving his hand away from my face. "That's the last thing I would think of you, Y/n. If I can help and save you from having to work and deal with an annoying boss, then I want to help. Please?" He insisted as he brought his face close to mine. Even in the dark, I could still see the silhouette of his face there, approaching my face. I remained silent, thoughtful about what he had said, hesitant to answer a yes or no. "We'll be able to spend more time together without you having to work. You'll even be able to see me rehearse with the band. I'm already a super happy man by your side, but I'd be a super duper happy man if you didn't work and we could spend more time together." He insisted a little more while his voice dropped to almost a whisper, wanting to get that "ok, I'm not going to work anymore" from my lips, getting closer until his forehead was touching mine. "Money is not a problem for me, you know that." He completed, waiting for some response from me. My mind was racing, I would love to spend more time with him...but I didn't want to feel like I was gold-digging, even though I really wasn't and I just loved Tom so fucking much.
"I will think about it." I finally gave an answer, but not choosing between yes or no, as I needed to think more about what Tom suggested. Tom didn't question or show disappointment or displeasure, he just brought our lips together in a quick peck since we were both tired. "Think fondly, okay? I love you." He replied, moving our faces apart just to place his face between my breasts, using that area as a pillow. "I love you too." My small hands came up to stroke his long black braids, tracing a pattern through his braids until we both slept.
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In the morning, I woke up to the sounds of birds chirping, the light from the window hitting the curtain and making it slightly transparent; so that the light entered our room. But that wasn't the only thing that woke me up. Little by little I started to let out soft and low cries, feeling hands holding my thighs. I woke up, still sleepy, already feeling a knot in my stomach, which made me look down and see no one but Tom there, practically drowning in my pussy. His tongue moved up to my clit and down, flicking quickly on my pussy while holding my thighs as if I could disappear at any moment. I felt his short beard rubbing against my pussy, making me let out louder cries, specially now that I started to be more aware of what he was doing. My pajama pants were lying on the corner of the bed, along with my panties - how had he taken them off without me even waking up? I must be pretty tired, I guess.
"You said I could have you today. But you didn't specify the time." His husky voice vibrated against my pussy as he noticed that I had woke up and was being responsive to his stimulations. Tom looked up, wanting to see my eyes, which at the moment were closed in pleasure, due to waking up to this surprise of his; which wasn't the first time, of course.
"Good morning, to you too, Y/n." He said teasingly, not expecting a response from me as he pressed my small thighs against his muscular arms, wanting to taste me in the purest form possible - straight from the source.
My legs were shaking because of the constant stimulation of his tongue, my hands went to his head, pulling at his black braids, gently trying to get him out of there, even though I knew I had no chance against Tom. He purposely tightened his arms around my thighs, moving his tongue up to my clit, flicking his tongue there in a skillful way, wanting to make me as overwhelmed with pleasure as possible. And he was so fucking good at it. My back arched as moans interrupted by other moans of mine - echoed through our room. He grunted against my clit in response to seeing me like this – desperate and seeking release. "Tom! My god, fuckfuckfuck!" And with one last slightly stronger pull on his black braids, my body lost control and the knot that was forming in my stomach came undone, my legs lightly kicking the air as waves of pleasure passed through my body and Tom felt the taste of all of the release, not letting a drop go unharmed, stimulating me until he felt the last drop on his tongue.
When Tom felt my body relax, he gave one last loving lick to my overstimulated sex and removed his face from between my legs, finishing tasting the pleasure that he gave me, lifting his body and approaching me; who was lying on the bed, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I processed the orgasmic effects coursing through me.
Suddenly I felt his hand under my thigh, pulling me closer to him quickly and easily, since he had a lot of strength. "Open your eyes, Y/n. Look at me." He said gently but with a tone of voice that made it seem like he was demanding and expected me to open my eyes as he asked. Without hesitation, I opened my eyes that were filled with post-orgasmic bliss and looked in his direction, our gazes meeting as a proud smile formed on his lips.
"I love watching you fall apart like that. It never gets old." Then, with a most mischievous smile, Tom; still with his hand under my thigh, added his other hand under my other thigh and pulled me close to him, my body dragging across the sheets. He moved his hands from under my thighs to my waist, lifting me up and finally placing me on top of him so that my body was facing him.
"Now that you're awake, how about we get on with my dick, hmm?" He suggested as he brought a hand to my face, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, adjusting my messy appearance.
"But I'm tired. I just woke up." I answered calmly, my body relaxing in his lap, which made him place both of his large hands on my waist, just to keep me balanced and not fall back. I looked at him, my hands going to his shoulders; standing still on top of the pajama fabric that separated my hand from touching his body.
"Aww, poor thing." He muttered soothingly, mocking me. I felt his face get closer to mine, only for him to pepper kisses on my jaw that went down the side of my neck, making me respond to this action almost instantly, as I shivered and closed my eyes. "It'll be really quick, I promise. Then you can go back to sleep." Looking for some way to say "yes" without having to say anything, my hands on his shoulders gently pulled the fabric, wanting to take that shirt off; Tom understood what I meant and helped me take off his shirt, throwing it anywhere, as much as he could have me here, now. My eyes roamed his body before he suddenly captured my lips in a vaguely aggressive kiss, the taste of my own release making me cringe against his mouth before I deepened the kiss.
Tom's hands squeezed my waist one last time before starting a path upward towards the last piece of clothing on my body. His fingers slowly ran up my torso, until they reached the middle of my chest where Tom began to unbutton the buttons of my pajamas in a hurry. Our kiss seemed to get more heated as he removed my pajama shirt, my waist moving back and forth in his lap; looking for more contact with him, since I felt he was hard through his sweatpants. In response to my movements against his lap, Tom made low grunts against my lips, our tongues "fighting" together, our desires being discounted against each other.
My waist stopped and my hands dropped from his shoulder, going to his sweatpants, pulling down his pants along with his underwear; his cock freeing itself from the fabrics that were squeezing him. I couldn't take his pants and underwear off completely, so they hung loosely over Tom's thighs.
I broke the kiss after his dick was already exposed, breathing quickly due to the anticipation of wanting to feel him. It was funny how minutes ago I was sleepy and now I just wanted Tom inside me. Tom looked down into my eyes, one of his hands that were on my waist, moving up my cheek and caressing the skin there, admiring my tired but glazed with desire face. My small hands went to his shaft, our eyes meeting as I lightl the area, making slow up and down movements.
"Mmm...just ride me, Y/n. I need you now." He said with a hoarse voice due to my teasing, his hand leaving my cheek and going to my waist; getting up and positioning his length at my entrance, pushing my waist completely down, filling me with just one thrust; eliciting a whimper from my lips. My hands quickly went to his shoulders, squeezing that area in an attempt to ease the pain I felt from being filled suddenly. "A-ah...Tom!" I silently screamed, my eyes closing as I concentrated on getting used to him, he used one hand to stroke my back in circles wanting me to get used to it before he could continue. "Shh..I know, babe." He softly whispered, wanting to soothe the pain away.
When I finally got used to it, I slowly lifted my waist and Tom; with his hands around my waist, pulled me down without slowness, filling me again, eliciting yet another whimper from my lips, a whimper that he liked to hear, as he took control of my movements and his hands tightened around my waist, guiding my movements up and down. I helped him with difficulty, with each thrust of his, one moan came louder than the other. "You sound so fucking pretty." He said between low gasps, his face approaching my neck, nibbling and sucking the warm skin in that area, marking me with hickeys. My head fell back, letting him have easy access to my neck and mark wherever he wanted; being at his mercy.
"Ouch!..I can't!" I cried, my legs failing to help him move inside of me, causing him to stay still inside me; his dick shuddering against my tight, hot walls. He was very big and even though we had a relatively active sexual relationship, I had difficulty getting used to him.
"Yes, you can." He answered sternly, hugging my waist, both of his arms keeping our bodies pressing against each other. "And you will." He stated, thrusting upwards, his cock filling me more intensely in that position, making my hands desperately go to his biceps and squeeze the muscular area; who was tense against my touch as he was keeping me trapped between his body and his arms. I laid my head against his chest, words coming out of my mouth but they were all incoherent and accompanied by messy whimpers. My body shook with each thrust, the bed beneath our bodies creaking with each thrust coming from Tom, as my walls clenched around him, milking him for everything he was worth.
"You feel..so fucking good." With Tom's hands around me, he used this to his advantage and lifted me up slightly, thrusting in and out of me at a faster pace, angling himself to hit a sensitive spot between my hot walls, my moans echoing through our room - complaints would come from the neighbors, I thought before my mind became numb so that all I could think about was that moment and how it was good. However, due to the intensity, I tried to escape weakly and make Tom stop focusing on that point of mine. Tom smiled at my attempts but didn't let me escape, pressing myself tighter against his body, wanting me to reach the peak as quickly as possible. "Oh no, you're not getting away now, Y/n." With Tom's skillful movements against my sensitive spot, my legs began to tremble and my head lifted from his chest, looking up towards him, admiring his expression; Eyebrows furrowed, those black braids all messy, his forehead sweaty, eyes slightly closed, looking back at me and groans leaving his lips. He was just so pretty.
Tom lowered his head to search for my lips and begin a slower, more desire-filled kiss; our voices mixing between the kiss, making my whimpers sound more erotic. His movements quickened more as I clenched tighter and tighter around him, and then, our bodies shook together and both of us climaxed, our voices joining in a long satisfied "Mmm" that echoed through the room as we slowly rode our highs, the waves of pleasure passing through both of us and making our bodies go into light spasms. The grip of Tom's arms around my waist became lighter little by little, with his hands off my waist, he reached down and gave my ass a light squeeze, making me sigh against his lips before parting our lips; that they were still "together" even though we were moving our faces apart, as a long thread of saliva formed between us but briefly fell apart.
I gave him a satisfied smile and made him smile back at me, I could still feel him buried inside of me, his cock twitching. "I think that was one of the best 'good morning' you've given me so far." I declared with a tired voice, still processing my recent climax, my hand going up to his face, gently running my hand through the sweat on his forehead and removing at least some of the sweat from that area. "But what about all the others 'good mornings' I gave you? Weren't those enough?" Tom replied, a sad pout forming on his lips; teasingly, his eyes shining with happiness. "Of course they were."
"You're not lying, right? :("
"Tom."
":("
"Don't be silly, I love all the 'good mornings' you give me."
":D"
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"Sooooo..." Tom started talking while we were both taking a shower, I had the soap in my hands, soaping my body while I waited for him to finish talking. "What about your job? Have you thought about what I said yesterday?" He finished speaking, approaching me and observing me, searching my eyes and wanting a concrete answer on this subject. "Can I answer after the shower?" I asked calmly as I looked up at him, the answer was already on the tip of my tongue, but I wanted to wait to say it. "Sure. Whatever you want." He responded back without any hesitation, starting to clean his braids, just wanting to get out of there quickly so he could get the answer soon.
As soon as we got out of the shower, changed into more casual clothes, I sat on the edge of the bed and sighed; I didn't even think about what Tom said to me yesterday, since I didn't even have time to think. I soon felt Tom sit down next to me, the mattress dipping slightly against his weight; It was clear that Tom was wanting an answer, so I got up from the end of the bed and went towards the computer, turning it on and going to the file where my presentation was located - it was what I was going to present tomorrow. Tom followed me, curious as he watched what I was doing. "What are you doing? Don't tell me you're gonna send this to your boss." He replied, his tone showing obvious frustration. "You'll only know if you see it, silly. I haven't even answered anything yet." I answered, giving him hope. My fingers moved over the keyboard just to delete my entire presentation; even though I spent several nights making them to send to my boss.
"Is that a 'I'm gonna spend more time with my boyfriend and not deal with my annoying boss anymore'?"
"Almost. What should I send my boss?"
"Tell him to fuck o-"
"Tom!"
"I'm sorry but he practically steals you from me for like 10 hours every day!"
"He used to steal me from you for 10 hours." I corrected, rolling my eyes, typing on the slides where my presentation should be, "I quit."
"Aren't you even going to put a smiley emoji in the message?"
"Why's that?"
Tom just looked up and down at me and gently removed my hands from the keyboard, making sure to put a ":D" at the end. "Aren't you happy now that you're not going to work and are going to spend more time with me?"
"I am."
"That's what the smiley emoji is for. To show that you're leaving that boring place and you're going to be happy with your boyfriend."
"I should never have taught you to use those emojis. Ugh."
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@httpkaulitz jwss eu te amo eu to com Tanto sono sao tres da manha.isso ficou mais longo do que eu esperava mEudeus
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rynnicol · 3 months
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I went to college with one of the men in this picture. We were friends. We would go to dinner at 3:00 am. I helped with his school projects. He’d tease me about watching sci-fi shows like Babylon 5 and Star Trek. I set him up with my roommate. He had a crush on her, so I helped my friend. They ended up dating for years.
One night he and I were at school in the edit bays. I had been calling him for hours trying to tell him his computer had crashed and wasn’t rendering. He was stressed about completing his thesis and decided the computer crash was somehow my fault when he finally showed up. While I was preparing a machine to help him, he came up behind me and slammed my head into the desk and keyboard repeatedly. I collapsed on the floor, and he started kicking me. At one point he grabbed my hair to slam my head against the wall then bent down to yell in my face. I have a vague memory of staring up at the window of the door in the tiny room as a silhouette watched. A freshman finally opened the door distracting my attacker long enough for me to crawl away.
I crawled to the room where my best friend was editing a film at the other end of the hall. I told him what had happened and to this day I’ll never forget his response, “He’s stressed. You must have misunderstood.” I wiped away what I thought was sweat from my brow and told him, I don’t think I did. Not one time did my friend look away from the computer. He kept explaining how I had to consider the pressure this man was under. I sat there on the floor crying until I looked at my hands and saw that I’d been wiping away blood. I looked out the window for the edit bay door and saw the freshman who had saved me. He indicated it was safe to come out.
I dashed down the hall to the bathroom terrified I would be attacked again. I didn’t think I could take my head being smashed into a sink. I cleaned up the blood and held a stack of paper towels to my head. I didn’t feel safe, so I took the side entrance outside and walked home. I locked myself in my apartment bathroom and sat in the shower for I don’t know how long.
The next day, I told my roommate I didn’t want her boyfriend around. I didn’t want to be alone with him, and I didn’t want him in the apartment even when I wasn’t there. I told her this while I was sitting on a chair in our living room while holding a bag of frozen peas to my head, wondering when we had bought peas and why. She informed me she had already spoken to her boyfriend and knew we’d had a fight. She “didn’t care what had happened” but needed us to get along for her. I wanted to tell her. I felt guilty. I had set them up. Had I put her in danger? I told her I didn’t feel safe, but before I could explain she threw up her hands and repeated that she didn’t need details about the “fight.” We just needed to work it out. I was having trouble breathing so I told her she should care then threw the peas back in the freezer and took off for the campus clinic. I felt guilty for years for not telling her.
The campus clinic looked at the bruises on my chest and back and told me I should get x-rays at the hospital for any fractures. No one asked how I got the bruises. They put a band aid on my head and told me to keep ice on the lump that had formed on the back of my head. Then made an appointment for me at the hospital which I had to walk to days later. I had hairline fractures on three ribs.
As I stood outside the campus clinic, I remembered there were cameras in the school’s hallways that would have recorded me crawling away from the attack and walking to the bathroom with blood dripping down my forehead. I could show my roommate what had happened. Then she might care. I headed to the campus safety office to ask about the tapes. The officer I had known for two years. He liked to attend parties with the graduate students, he smiled at me while informing me that he was on duty the night before, but the tapes were gone now. I didn’t understand then what he was saying. I didn’t know at the time he had stolen the tapes to protect my attacker.
I walked to the school and visited the vice dean, to report the attack. He informed me that he felt supporting my attacker and burying this incident was a better financial investment for the school. My attacker was going to elevate their name. The vice dean asked if my scholarships went away then would I still be able to attend school? He then began a months long effort lasting well into the summer to have my scholarships rescinded. When other faculty asked why he was after me his excuse was that I brought a Dr. Pepper into a classroom where drinks were not allowed. Not even a joke. The cost of the broken keyboard was taken out of my paycheck from my work-study job. The message was clear. My attacker was of more value than I.
Last night my attacker got to take part in attending the Peabody awards for the Star Trek franchise. A franchise he first watched in my living room after mocking me for watching the show, but he tells everyone that he watched it as a child. He repeats a story I told him about my mother seeing Nichelle Nichols for the first time. My first memory in life is of my parents racing to watch a rerun of the original series. So not only did this man break my ribs, he’s taken a dump on my childhood. I’ve been quiet for nearly 25 years, actively disappearing, changing my name, and moving away, while this man has had opportunity after opportunity handed to him. I know he thinks he put in more effort than others not seeing how many people put him where he is today. Karma might keep receipts, but she certainly doesn’t perform audits.
0 notes
solarwonux · 4 years
Text
Sugar || Wonwoo
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gamer!wonwoo x f!reader
w.c: 2.2k
warnings: smut, unprotected sex, fluff
note: this is one of my fav one shots I have written lol, its so cute and fluffy and honestly who does not love gamer!wonwoo!!!! Anyway, I hope you like this one it is one of my older ones but a good one (i think), let me know your thoughts <3
drabble game || masterlist 
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You could hear Wonwoo cursing in his office at his computer screen for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, driving you insane. Normally, you wouldn’t have minded, watching him react to the game he was playing was one of your favorite sources of entertainment. And It was no wonder people tuned in twice a week to watch him play while he streamed.
But tonight, you were due to finish your senior thesis and the words weren’t coming in. You had spent all day working around your apartment, turning over sentences in your head as you thought of ways to finish off your thesis. But when you had sat down in front of your coffee table to finally begin writing after finishing all the chores you had tasked yourself in doing. Your mind went blank. You had spent the following hours writing and rewriting growing even more frustrated when you realized that you had hit a wall.
Slamming your laptop shut, you rested your head on top of your coffee table, tracing over the lines in the wood with your index finger. Listening to Wonwoo’s laughter as he continued talking to his webcam, cursing whenever something didn’t go his way. You sighed wishing you weren’t contemplating barging into the office and pulling out the power chord to his gaming set up, as a means to silence him. Though you knew it would just lead to a fight and as annoyed as you were, that was the last thing you wanted.
Sighing, you got up from your spot on the floor and walked slowly to the office and gently knocked on the door. You wrapped your cardigan around your torso tightly while you waited for him to open it. You knew asking him to keep it down was useless, considering that it hadn't worked before, but you were out of options.
“Yes, baby.” Wonwoo smiled at you widely once he had finished opening the door. His headset around his neck, his round glasses slowly sliding off the bridge of his nose and his hair sticking up in places he had tugged on out of frustration.
“How long are you gonna stay on tonight?” You leaned up running a delicate hand through his hair attempting to fix it.
“Not sure…Seungcheol on too and we just started playing this new game that came out.” He finished pushing his glasses up his nose. “Why, what’s wrong?” He reached over smoothing over the creases that had formed between your brows.
“Umm…it’s nothing.” You shook your head. “But could you at least try to keep it down a little.” You pouted forming prayer hands in front of you. Wonwoo chuckled and pecked your lips softly. “I’ll try, have you finished your thesis yet?”
“Almost.” You smiled widely, hating yourself for lying to him, knowing that if you had told him the truth, he would’ve shut down the game and sat with you until you finished. And you couldn’t do that to him knowing how excited he got for his streams. Remembering how he kept tabs on comments that he’d find funny just so he’d be able to tell you about them later.
“Does that mean you’ll come sit with me when you finish.” He rubbed soothing circles on your chin as he looked down at you with that certain look you could never say no too. “Mhm.” You nodded and pecked his nose making him scrunch it up. “Now go before someone thinks you’ve gone missing.” You shoved him into the room lightly making him laugh.
“Impossible, they know I’m with my crazy, beautiful, sexy, cool girlfriend.” He winked at you as he sat down in his gaming chair, throwing you a kiss as he put on his headset again. You closed the door shaking your head, sighing in frustration as you leaned your forehead against it. Wishing you didn’t care and support Wonwoo’s hobby that had quickly turned into his second job as much as you did.
Knowing you weren’t going to get anywhere with your thesis, you decided to go take a shower. Hoping the hot water hitting your tense muscles will help clear the whirlwind going on in your head.
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Feeling a lot lighter after your shower you wrapped a towel around your body. You walked out of your fogged-up bathroom and went to your dresser sitting down. Grabbing your body butter and lathering it around on your legs slowly kneading out the tension, then doing the same to the rest of your body. Once you finished you picked up your towel that had fallen onto the floor and before you could wrap it around yourself again, Wonwoo cursed loudly causing you to jump. You sighed and stormed out of your bedroom, opening up the door to the office and throwing your towel angrily at him.
“What the hell baby?” He exclaimed, jumping slightly from his chair angrily clicking on his computer mouse. “I’m in the middle of a game.” He groaned doing a double-take the second he realized you were standing naked with your hands on your waist in the doorway. You watched as he nervously scrambled taking off his headset and covering his webcam with his hands as quickly as possible, his going wide. “What are you doing, go put on some clothes.” He yelled, whispering.
“I asked you to keep it down…why are you being so loud today?” You said moving your arms around before bringing them to settle on to your hips again.
Wonwoo swallowed and looked down at his computer monitor, you could hear the gunshots from the game and Seungcheol calling out for Wonwoo telling him he needed back up. “Sorry, sorry, sorry…but you can’t just barge in here lookin’ like that.” He stared at you, his bottom lip slowly making its way in between his teeth as he looked over you slowly.
“Why not, they can’t see me.” You challenged stepping into the room. Wonwoo walked back tripping over his gaming chair as he tried to keep his hands on the webcam. “Well now they can’t, I’m covering it.” He retorted, his body at an awkward angle as you stood right in front of the monitor. “Maybe it’s a good thing they see, it’ll teach you to listen to me when I tell you things.” You said putting your hand over his hand feeling his hold on the webcam tighten. “Bet Seungcheol will listen to me if I was standing in front of him like this.” You whispered giving him a sultry look before running out of the room giggling.
You stood outside the hallway with your back against the wall as you listened to Wonwoo frantically try to cut his stream short. “Umm…s-sorry guys something came up, I’ll be back next week.”
“Wonwoo you pussy don’t leave me al—” You heard Seungcheol yell through the mic, getting cut off when Wonwoo shut everything down. You heard the sound of his headset gently hit his keyboard. You leaned over peaking your head in as you watched Wonwoo angrily run his fingers through his hair before looking over at you. “You little minx…get in here.” He demanded as he started walking towards you. You giggled and started running away into your bedroom, while he followed.
You threw yourself on your bed and waited for Wonwoo. “Hi Woo, what’s wrong?” You asked laying down the minute he walked into the room.
“Don’t you have a thesis to finish…what are you getting me so worked up for?” He said bringing his t-shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere in the room.
“I don’t think that was me, baby, that was your stupid games’ doing.” You sat up \on your elbows watching as he continued to undress.
“Do you know how dangerous that was…I could’ve been reported for nudity if you were caught.” He said as he finished taking off his boxers and climbed onto the bed.
“It’s a good thing you weren’t.” You giggled, Wonwoo rolled his eyes and turned you over so you were now laying on your stomach. You felt his palm come down onto your ass causing you to moan out. He leaned down and bit one of your cheeks, a small inaudible gasp leaving your mouth making him smirk against your skin. “If you wanted to play all you had to do was ask love.” He spoke against your skin and slowly kissed his way up your body, reaching over to move your drying hair away from your neck.
“You only ever want to play your games.” You moaned out as you felt him suck onto your neck harshly, feeling another slap land on your ass. “That’s not true…this will always be my favorite game.” He bit your earlobe sneaking a hand around your front resting his hand over your neck. “What do you say baby…want to play?” He tightened his hold around your neck making you gasp.
“mhm, yes please.” You moaned feeling his free hand teasingly run down his back, his knees parting your legs. “Always so respectful for me aren’t you.” He said sneaking his hand in between your legs. “And wet.” He moaned, coating his fingers with your arousal, teasing you slowly.
“Now tell me, love, was this what you wanted when you rudely interrupted me?” Wonwoo removed his hand from around your neck and tugged at your hips bringing you up to your knees.
“N-No.” You whimpered, feeling the head of his cock run through your folds. “I find that hard to believe. You’re all clean and moisturized and wet for me, baby.” He groaned and pressed his head onto your clit. “Just look at how hard you have me.” He finished pushing himself in slowly. You arched your back moaning, feeling yourself stretch around him.
For months your busy schedules had been getting in the way. He has his job at Woozi’s record company and his twitch streams two times a week. And you with your part-time job at the publishing company and going to night classes to finish up your masters, that by the time any of you would get home all you wanted to do was sleep.
“Woo, it’s been too long please move.” You choked out feeling his veins throbbing against your silky walls. “Anything for you my angel.” He grunted snapping his hips into you hard making you scream out his name. Feeling your arms start to give out as the pleasure continued to course through your body, you leaned down on your forearms.
His hips hitting your backside hard yet slowly as he sensually rode out the pleasure the two of you were currently feeling. His cock throbbing the more the two of you started reaching for your high. “I-I’ve missed you.” He moaned breathlessly leaning his body over yours digging his fingers into your hips roughly. He buried his head into the crook of your neck as he continued to ram himself into you. You turned your head to the side and kissed him messily biting his lower lip roughly. “I missed you too.” You gasped feeling him hit the sweet spot you knew he loved to play with.
Both of your moans mix with the sound of your skin against his, bounced of your bedroom walls. The headboard of the bed slamming into the wall creating small dents that you were sure you would worry about in the morning. Along with the noise complaint letters you would get during the week from all the angry tenants living in your apartment building. But you could care less, the only thing that mattered was the delicious spread going on in between your legs.
“Touch yourself b-baby,” Wonwoo demanded, feeling the loss of his skin against your back as he lifted up his body. You snaked your hand between your legs and rubbed your clit roughly, as Wonwoo sped up his movements. He set a foot on your bed reaching a new angle in you making you arch your back in pleasure as he helped you chase your high. The coil of pleasure spirals until you burst around him screaming out his name in pleasure. You panted bottoming out looking up over your shoulder whimpering as Wonwoo pulled out of you, releasing his load onto your back milking himself out.
He gave your ass a little tap signaling for you to lay down on your stomach again. He panted laying down next to you putting an arm underneath his head and the other on your upper back. “So much for finishing my thesis tonight.” You said trying to catch your breath.
Wonwoo laughed, shaking his head, drawing small patterns on your shoulders with his thumb. “That’s on you baby.” He leaned over kissing your nose. “Are you feeling better?”
You looked up at him raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean Woo, I’m not sick.”
He sighed, turning his body to face you. “No, but you were stressed out, I could tell the second I came home and when you told me to keep it down the first time.” He brought his hand up over and rubbed soothing circles around your flushed-out cheek. You nodded burying your face into his chest. “I’m feeling a lot better…thank you.”
“Good, now let me run you a bath and then we can sit down together and finish your thesis…does that sound okay?” He scrunched up his nose at a poor attempt to push his glasses up. You smiled helping him and kissed his lips softly.
“Sounds amazing love.”
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cinebration · 3 years
Text
Written in DNA (Booker x Reader) [Epilogue]
You tie up loose ends.
Ahhhh! This epilogue is, like, twice the size of other chapters. I should’ve broken it into two, but I figured you all wanted to get to the end!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Epilogue
Tagged: @lucy-sky​, @city-of-weird​, @all-the-right-regrets, @alannister-always-pays-her-debts​, @fleetwoodsmacabitch​
Warnings: violence
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Gif Source: captaindelafere
General Howzer looked too thin to be a military man at his age, but what people mistook for smallness was all lean muscle, as tough as a coffin nail. His hair had gone gray despite his age, but it gave him a steeled look that he didn’t mind. It added to the ferocity of his blue eyes.
With Specimen 049 back in the compound, he let himself breathe easy for a moment. Her absence had been a source of great distress for him—a fact his jaw still attested to, aching from all the grinding he had inflicted on it.
But there was still the trouble of how Specimen 049 had escaped.
It kept him up at night. How had she contacted the outside? How had she arranged the help? They had scoured her quarters after the breakout, searching for anything that indicated how she had reached beyond her concrete room. Having found nothing, Howzer had to admit it hadn’t had anything to do with Specimen 049. Someone else had come for her on their own initiative.
Howzer considered shutting down the program. Specimen 049 had been one of a few successful experiments—perhaps the best, because she had never resisted, had never fled.
Until that one day.
She may not have orchestrated the escape, but she had flown the coop all the same when the opportunity arrived. She had obliterated his best team when he sent them after her.
Perhaps the experiments were ultimately a failure. Everything had worked but for the ability to suppress or remove the flight instinct, the need to escape prison. If even Specimen 049, his model subject, had shucked her chains, then there was no hope.
Chaos erupted outside the compound, alarms blaring, but Howzer didn’t question it, too consumed by his problem. Whoever was assaulting the base had no hope of success, besides.
The doorknob of his office turned. He glanced at it in irritation. “Private, I ordered you—”
He froze as you stepped into the room, followed by the man he recognized as your liberator from the week before.
“Specimen oh-four-nine.”
“General Howzer,” you said, your voice crisp, without inflection. “I’m glad you decided to work late tonight.”
You moved forward, crossing the room in three quick strides. Howzer reached for the gun in his desk drawer. Your hand clamped down on his wrist, snapped it. Pain exploded up his arm. The gun clattered to the floor as he hissed, cradling his wrist.
You gestured to the other man. Nodding, he handed you his pistol and circled around the desk, pulling the keyboard of Howzer’s computer toward him.
“What are you doing?” Howzer growled.
He watched in mounting horror as the man located the program files. He went into Specimen 049’s folder, deleted it, and then backed out. He hesitated, then deleted everything related to the program before purging them from the hard drive.
“You can’t just erase everything,” Howzer sneered. “We’ll just recreate it all.”
You shook your head, yanked him to his feet. “We’ll see.” Turning to the other man, you ordered, “Finish here.”
You paused, pulled open another drawer of Howzer’s desk. A bottle of scotch lay at the bottom, a quarter of it gone. Taking it, you pushed Howzer toward the door.
“What happened? You were my best results.”
You remained quiet, shoving him through the door and down the hallway. The chaos of the explosion had drawn everyone to the front of the compound. You led Howzer away to the back, then through a steel door.
The cold night air hit Howzer like knives. He shivered despite himself, the pain in his wrist flaring. Fear pushed at him, but he shoved it down. He was General Benjamin Howzer, and damned would he be if he let some young upstart intimidate him.
“Your car,” you demanded.
He pointed to a brown sedan nestled beside an SUV. Fishing in his pocket for keys, you clicked the button. The car’s lights flashed.
“I expected you to lie.”
“Good. That’s what we trained you to do.”
Howzer was already planning his escape. The car was home turf for him. He knew the way the wheel jerked to the right when he hit pot holes and how quick it would take to slam the seat back against you. He knew the passenger seatbelt was loose and fraying, unreliable.
He would walk away.
You shoved him into the driver’s seat, got into the passenger seat. Howzer settled in behind the wheel, trying to anticipate your moves.
You handed him the liquor bottle. “Drink.”
“No.”
“Don’t make me make you.”
He stared you down. “Make me.”
Starbursts exploded in his vision as you seized his face, jamming the bottle against his lips. He felt a tooth crack, blood mingling with the burning scotch. He choked, unable to swallow so much so fast, but you were forcing the bottle further past his lips, down into the back of his throat.
Then it was gone. He gasped, lungs and throat burning, lips pouring blood. “You fucking bitch!”
“I am what you made me. Now drive.”
Fear tried again, more successful this time in making him afraid. “Where?”
You gestured to the street leading to the highway.
There was still an opportunity to escape. Howzer tried to formulate it in his mind as he started the sedan and worked his way to the freeway. He slowly put on his seatbelt.
You didn’t do the same.
Even better, he thought.
Howzer’s foot pressed down on the gas, pushing the speedometer past eighty, then ninety. You watched dispassionately.
Fear wrapped around his guts.
“When this is over, I’m going to get your boyfriend, too,” he snarled. “You’ve damned him in all of this.”
He eyed the crop of woods looming up ahead alongside the highway.
“You won’t get the chance.”
Howzer’s seatbelt suddenly went slack. He glanced down, saw your hand retreat from the release button.
He had planned to swerve into a tree, but seeing the seatbelt made him hesitate. He shot a glance at you.
“Nice try,” you whispered, and yanked the steering wheel beneath his hands.
~~
Booker drove the car down the long stretch of road, searching for you. He found the wreckage of Howzer’s sedan, the crumpled body of Howzer himself wrapped around the tree.
No sign of you.
Trying not to worry—had someone else grabbed you first?—Booker drove further down, searching the woods.
At last, he glimpsed something gray in the distance. As he drew near, it resolved into you, wandering slowly down the asphalt. He pulled to a stop beside you.
You slipped into the passenger seat. A dark bruise was forming on your arms and forehead. Booker gestured to them. You frowned in confusion. He reached over and gently brushed the back of a finger across your arm. It sent a prickle up his hand.
“Dashboard,” you murmured, watching his finger.
Pulling away slowly, Booker refocused on the road. An SUV was approaching from the opposite direction. The headlights flashed.
“They came to help?”
The surprise in your voice matched Booker’s own. “Yes.”
“See? Family comes through.”
Chest constricting, Booker rolled to a stop beside the SUV. Andy stuck her head out of the driver’s window. “Everything good?”
Booker gave her a thumbs up. He could see the others crowding at the windows, peering at him and at you through the windshield.
“There’s a place not far from here,” Andy continued. “To crash for the night.”
Booker shifted uncomfortably and glanced at you. “Whatever you want,” you told him.
“Okay,” he answered Andy.
He followed the immortals to the safe house. The car ride passed in silence, you staring out the window. He wanted to say something but couldn’t think of anything. He felt uncomfortable, hyperaware of your presence—the way you were breathing, your reflection in the window.
At last, he asked, “Why did Howzer call you Specimen oh-four-nine?”
“That was my number.”
He recalled you telling him to call you “Spec” if he wanted a name back when he first met. Clearing his throat, he said, “My real name is Sebastien.”
He felt your eyes on him before you quietly gave him yours. He repeated it over and over in his mind, guarding it like some precious piece of you.
Pulling up to the safe house, Booker was surprised to discover it was actually a two-storey house. There were enough rooms for everyone to sleep on their own.
You trudged up the stairs and into the bathroom, the shower turning on moments later. Booker and the others stayed downstairs, infected by your silence.
Andy offered Booker a bottle. He reached for it, hesitated, shook his head. Arching an eyebrow, she pulled from it herself.
Booker kept an ear toward the shower, listening to the shower splash differently as you moved. The others watched him, exchanging glances with each other.
Nile broke the silence. “Will she be okay?”
Booker frowned. “What do you mean?”
“She doesn’t have a mission. Isn’t that what she was trained to do? Always follow a mission? I mean, she was doing that when she brought you to Quynh, wasn’t she?”
The shower turned off. Booker heard you cross softly across the floor.
“She’s free,” he murmured, “and she’s strong.”
“What about you?”
The question shook him. What about him? He hadn’t thought about it since he returned to the States to break you out.
Overhead, he heard a door shut quietly, a mattress squeak.
“I’m going to help her, if she’ll have me,” he answered.
~~
Despite his exhaustion, Booker didn’t sleep that night. He rose early and made breakfast for everyone, including himself, after venturing into town to buy groceries.
You were the first to descend the stairs. Sunlight had yet to dispel the early morning darkness. Booker snapped to attention as you approached him. You looked rested, perhaps more so than he had ever seen you. Something about the softness of lingering sleep on your face made Booker’s heart trip.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” you answered. Sitting at the table, you dug gratefully into the plate of food: eggs, oatmeal, bacon, toast. Booker had given you a triple portion, remembering the last time you had scarfed food down.
“I was thinking,” you began, then hesitated. Jabbing at the bacon with your fork, you asked, “Did you do the other thing I asked you to?”
Booker nodded and fished the flash drive out of his pocket. He had palmed it into a USB port on Howzer’s computer, pretending to delete the files when instead he had transferred them over. You took it from him with a delicate touch, as though afraid to break it.
“Do you think there are any left?”
Booker’s chest ached at the sound of your voice cracking. “I saw a lot of names.”
“But are they alive? No, don’t tell me. I’ll find out.” You pocketed the flash drive and resumed eating. “So, what’s the deal with you and the others?”
“I still have ninety-nine years.”
You frowned. “I’m sorry. What will you do?”
He sat down across from you, not quite meeting your gaze. “I was hoping…you wouldn’t mind having me around.”
The fork paused halfway to your mouth. You gaped at him, jaw slack. He would have laughed if not for his anxiety over your answer.
Lowering the fork, you cleared your throat. “No…”
Booker felt like bricks had hit him over the head. He glanced away, stared down at his hands. What had he expected? That you might think of him as more than anything than the guy who had been part of a mission?
“I wouldn’t mind.”
He jerked his head back up. You met his gaze levelly, a tentative smile on your lips. Relief coursed through him, better than anything he could think of. Raking a hand over the back of his neck, he struggled to fight the grin pulling at his mouth.
“If I catch you drinking, I will shank you with the bottle,” you told him.
“I believe you.”
“Good. Now, where do you think we should start?”
“Here,” he answered, and he leaned forward to kiss you.
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angstyaches · 3 years
Text
The Strong One
I accidentally posted a reply to this ask too soon (instead of saving it as a draft as I’d planned) but here is what Mushroom Anon said:
ngl your self indulgent fics are some of your best ones. okay so my request was : a generally stoic and strong character getting sick from emotions? like from a panic attack or anxiety? their s/o is worried because ???? what happened?? turns out they’ve been having a Really Stressful Week TM and proceed to get pampered and loved. For felix and elliot. omg also how about : a little outsider shot of the two of them here pov ryan and nancy. thanks! 🍄
Post Thicker Than Blood Arc (i.e. after Felix comes back from visiting his mother’s nursing home etc.) And dude, I LOVED the Ryan/Nancy POV idea, holy shit. Thank you so much for that addition!!
CW: secrecy, bickering, panic attack, emeto, mention of (past) deaths.
___
“Good morning, darling,” Felix chirped as he entered the kitchen. Elliott was sitting at the marble countertop, one hand propping up his chin while the other tapped away at his laptop keyboard. Felix wasn’t sure what Elliott was working on these days – and he tended to get huffy and defensive when asked – so Felix made a grand gesture of cupping a hand around his eye while walking past. Look, darling, I’m not looking!
“Morning?” Elliott glanced down at his watch, tilting the laptop screen so that it was almost halfway shut, despite Felix making it obvious that he wasn’t looking. “It’s basically the afternoon.”
“Hmm?” Felix took hold of Elliott’s wrist, tilting his head to read the time. “No, it’s still the morning for seven more minutes and twelve more seconds.”
Elliott grunted. “Oh. Well. You got me.”
Felix chewed his lip, his feathers a bit ruffled by Elliott’s tone. He glanced through the kitchen towards the sitting room. “Where is everyone?”
“I think Nan dragged Ryan to the farmer’s market.”
“No!” Felix gasped. “I wanted to go, too.”
“Should’ve woken up earlier then, huh? Maybe joined me on a morning run?”
A grin spread across Felix’s face, his natural response to Elliott’s attempts to mould him into a morning person. It hadn’t happened in the last seven years, so it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
He leaned his head against Elliott’s shoulder, even though his hair was still dripping wet from his shower. “I love it when you nag me. You in the mood for a drop of coffee?”
“No, Fee, I’m fine.” Elliott tugged the laptop screen even lower, as though he thought Felix was trying to peek.
Felix looked up, a bit startled by the solemn tone of Elliott’s voice, and confused by just how protective he was being on his screen. His partner looked down at him, still the taller of the two while sitting on the island stools. His eyes portrayed an uneasy darkness that made Felix frown.
“Is…” Felix’s heart skipped a beat. “Is everything alright, darling?”
Elliott blinked. “Yes. Why?”
“I – you just seem…”
One of Elliott’s eyebrows arched.
“… Tense,” Felix grimaced.
“Tense?” Elliott repeated dully. “Well, excuse me. Not all of us had fifteen hours of sleep.”
“Huh. Okay.” Felix pursed his lips and padded unhappily across the white tiles, towards the coffee maker. He felt silly. He could usually handle Elliott’s teasing and such, but something about the way he was acting felt strange. It was like something had shifted between them.
Felix felt his heart sink as he scooped coffee grounds into the machine, his motions slowing.
It had been three weeks since Felix had returned to the Aldridge’s townhouse, after spending a few weeks up north and visiting his mother in her nursing home. Beyond his first few days back, Elliott hadn’t questioned him too much about what had happened up there, so Felix had assumed – hoped – that he’d decided to put it all behind them. But there was a chance he had changed his mind since then, right?  
Felix blinked, realising he’d spilled grounds on the glistening white countertop. He barely cared. He turned around. “Elli?”
“What?” Elliott had lifted the laptop screen again, still sitting stiffly as he navigated some screen that Felix wasn’t allowed to see.
“Are – are you still angry with me?” There was a tiny hitch in Felix’s voice, which he couldn’t help. He didn’t want to take Elliott’s mood and make it all about himself, but the thought of Elliott quietly holding onto resentment made Felix’s stomach hurt.
Elliott let out a rasping sigh and slapped the lid of his computer shut. Felix jumped on the spot, watching with wide eyes as Elliott dropped his head into his hands where he sat. Felix was overcome with worry, sure, but for a tenth of a second, all he wanted to do was check that Elliott hadn’t broken his laptop and lost whatever secret project he was working on.
“Darling?” Felix laid down the coffee scoop and wrung his hands. “If – if this is about anything that we talked about, I would want you to tell me.”
“No.” The word was murmured so softly that Felix barely heard it. Elliott let out a shaky, audible breath, his face still hidden in his hands. “No, boo, you – you and I are fine.”
“You – I’m sorry, you keep using that word. Fine…”
“You and I,” Elliott huffed, “are perfect, Fee.”
That should have been reassuring, but Felix still had that sinking sensation in his chest. Elliott’s shoulders rocked forward slightly, like he was trying to curl into a ball where he was seated.
At least this time, Felix didn’t have to hesitate in coming to Elliott’s side. “Elli,” he sighed, sliding his arms around Elliott’s waist, resting his forehead on his back. “Talk to me.”
“I…” Elliott started off shakily, gulping so hard that Felix heard it from where he was positioned behind him. “I-I don’t…”
As he waited for Elliott to find the words, Felix gently moved a hand up and down over his ribs, hoping the contact was soothing and not stifling. Elliott’s chest was rising and falling way too quickly for Felix’s liking. He decided he should probably back off and give his partner space to breathe, but as soon as he started to move, Elliott grabbed one of his hands and tugged it towards his chest again.
“You have something, now, or someone who… who can tie you to your old life.” The words vibrated within his chest and his back as he choked them out.
Felix frowned and lifted his head, looking up at the back of Elliott’s. The taller boy’s dark hair was scooped into a messy bun. The ends were knotted and ratty. It hadn’t been cut in so long. “Darling, I don’t want to be tied to that life. I want to be tied to this life, with you.”
“I know, I know, but it got me thinking about the people I used to know, and how…” Elliott shuddered in Felix’s grip. “How they would all... I knew it was a long shot, but I tried finding some names online, but we – Jesus, most of us didn’t even have full names, we were just trying to survive –”
“Darling,” Felix whispered, at a complete loss for anything more substantial to say.
“I mean –” A dark tremble of laughter broke through Elliott’s voice. He swivelled the stool, stepping down and taking a few steps across the tiles. “It’s pointless to even look for them, right? What are the odds any of my old friends also happened to end up becoming immortal vampires, huh?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Rhetorical question, boo.”
“Sorry.” Felix followed a few steps behind Elliott as he went to the kitchen window. It didn’t even seem like he was looking at anything in particular, but simply exposing his retinas to the light from outside.
“Elli?” Felix said quietly.
Elliott glanced at him, just for a moment. His eyes were dark and wet, his lips trembling as he gradually lost the battle against full-on hyperventilation. He shook his head violently, gaze wandering aimlessly again. “I don’t – I don’t feel right. What’s wr… What’s wrong with me, Fee?”
“Darling, try to slow your breathing.”
Elliott slammed his palms down either side of the kitchen sink, his shoulders buckling forward under the pressure of the gasps and heaves racking his body. “Felix, what’s wrong with me?”
“You’re panicking,” Felix said, shocking himself with how calm he sounded. He closed the last few paces between them, unable to resist being next to Elliott while he was in this state. “I’m right here, alright? I’m going to touch your back, Elli, but – but please, tell me if it’s not okay…”
“Don’t,” Elliott gasped, shaking his head violently. His mouth bobbed open as he lowered his shoulders even further, eyes widening. “G-going to –”
A moment before Elliott started dry heaving, Felix realised what was happening, and obediently took his hand back. As a rule, Elliott detested being touched when he was sick, and Felix had learned to stop fighting that a long, long time ago.
Felix flinched at how violently sick Elliott suddenly was. His head was practically in the sink at one point, his body buckling under the intense convulsions. It was impossible to distinguish between the laboured breathing and the dry heaving, but every sound and every lurch made Felix’s heart twist a little tighter in his chest.
“Darling, I’m sorry,” Felix choked out. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise you had all of this going on inside you.”
Elliott whimpered at that, attempting to lift his head a little higher. “Fee, I just –” He was immediately interrupted by a wet belch, and a clear stream of saliva that he needed to spit away from his lips into the sink. “You just got back, I w-want – wanted things to be normal… for you.”
“Elli,” Felix whined. He couldn’t believe what was happening here. Elliott was trying not to cry as he spoke, and Felix almost lost it too, though he did his best to keep a hold of things. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but he had a feeling he knew exactly what Elliott meant by ‘normal’. He meant the normalcy where Felix could be a mess and Elliott was forced to be the strong one.
He watched as Elliott brought his elbows down gently in front of the sink, letting his head drop against them as the nausea finally seemed to past. He trembled and sighed deeply, seemingly in resignation.
Felix cleared his throat softly. “May I touch you?”
A very quiet chuckle emerged from Elliott’s buried face. “You may.”
Felix rested a hand gently on Elliott’s back, introducing the slightest amount of motion so that his fingertips grazed over a small portion of his spine. He lowered his forehead to Elliott’s shoulder again, this time with very little weight behind it. He needed Elliott to know he wasn’t leaning on him, but that he was there for him.
And he was capable of being the strong one sometimes.
___
“You know, there was a time where you would have helped me bring the bags in from the car,” Nancy sulked. Her arms were outstretched and wrapped around half a dozen bags from different vendors which were pressed against her chest.
“It is not my fault that you insist on buying so much,” Ryan said calmly, following her wife to the doorstep with her hands in her pockets. “For example, you did not need to purchase onions from three different stalls.”
“I told you; they’re different varieties!”
Ryan sighed as she opened the front door and stood back to let her wife into the front hallway of the townhouse. “An onion is an onion, love.”
“Felix,” Nancy grumbled, turning as she walked and narrowing her eyes at Ryan. “Felix will back me up. Felix! Felix, sweetheart!” she called towards the stairs.
The response from within the house was a muted sshhh, which sounded much closer than the upstairs bedrooms. Nancy frowned, meeting Ryan’s gaze for a moment as she closed the front door. Ryan made a beeline towards the kitchen and Nancy followed, dragging her feet slightly on the tiles as she struggled with her bags. She paused by the kitchen island to deposit all of them, watching as Ryan rounded the far corner and stared at what was happening on the sofa.
“Oh, sweethearts, what’s happened?” Nancy gasped, rushing over to stand next to Ryan.
Felix was sitting – almost upright – at one end of the sofa, white Elliott curled up next to him, his head resting in the smaller boy’s lap.
“Is… Is he asleep?” Nancy whispered.
Felix nodded silently. His poor eyes were red and a little puffy as he glanced back and forth between his two foster mothers.
“Anything we can do?” Ryan asked in a low voice, slipping her hands into the pockets of her slacks again. Nancy couldn’t help but pout; oh, sure, you’ll ask them if there’s anything they need you to do, but you won’t help me carry a couple of bags into the house.
A weak smile tugged at Felix’s exhausted expression, and he shook his head. His fingers drifted over Elliott’s head, brushing back a thin strand of his dark hair. Nancy once again couldn’t help herself, this time pursing her lips and wondering how long it had been since Elliott had cut his hair.
“Everything’s okay,” Felix murmured softly. “I’ve got him.”
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berrynarrybanana · 4 years
Text
happy with you | H.S
A/N: For my darling wife @bfharry . I sincerely apologize for being late and I’m sorry this is so shit but I am stuck in a cabin in the mountains with terrible service and a horrible WiFi connection. I cranked this piece out earlier this morning for the #boyfriendathon fic challenge and I hope that everyone enjoys. Thank you to Olivia for putting this lovely challenge together. You’re aces babe and I love you!!!😘
P.S I did not edit but I probably will later!
It was juvenile really. 
After six months of dating and two months of living together through a pandemic, it was bound to happen at some point. Living together was a lot of fun at first. It almost felt like playing house at first, every day filled with fun activities and countless kisses stolen from each other. Every morning you would wake up together before spending a little too much time kissing on each other in bed. Occasionally, the odd blowjob or facesitting excursion would get in the way of starting your work day, but you really didn’t mind. From there, you would both wander into the kitchen for tea(him) and coffee (you) before starting breakfast together. 
Harry was a master chef, taking care of each and every minuscule detail as if it were surgery and someone’s life depended on it. You always sat back, clicking away at your keyboard until all of your work emails were sorted and answered. When breakfast was fixed, the two of you snuggled up in his breakfast nook while eating and talking softly. From there, your day consisted of buzzing around each other while you both tried to work without getting in each other’s way. 
But it was bound to happen. 
“You deleted my entire proposal, Harry!” The tone of your voice was harsh, a sarcastic laugh following your words. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now? It’s going to take me hours to retype that whole thing and it’s due in twenty minutes.” 
“It’s not like I meant to do it!” He tossed his hands up, exasperated and frustrated by your snippy tone. He had already apologized for it a million times. “Bloody christ, you’ve got such a temper! I can’t undo it, so why are ya still yellin’ at me!” 
“Because I’m so frustrated and at this point, I’m tired of seeing your fucking face!” It was out of your mouth before you could take it back. Your feet stomped along the tiles of the kitchen floor for a brief second before you were being pulled back into Harry’s chest. “Let me go!” 
“You’re tired of seeing my face?” Harry sneered, his eyes growing dark as his face turned the perfect shade of red. “Then maybe you should go home.” 
He released you then, stalking off somewhere until you heard a slamming door echo throughout the house. The sound flipped a switch inside of your brain, tears welling up in your eyes as you realized you overreacted just a little. You stood in his kitchen, sobbing as you tried to calm yourself down. You didn’t mean it and neither did he, but you were devastated that you upset him so much that he wanted you to go home. When you were done wiping at the tears on your cheeks, you sat down on the barstool at his kitchen island.
After a quick email to your boss, explaining why your proposal wasn’t sent and that you needed the rest of the day, you set off for Harry’s bedroom. The door slamming definitely came from downstairs and you assumed that meant he was either in his studio or he went for the pool house. You decided to give him his space as you crawled into his massive bed, resting your head on his pillow with a heavy heart and tired eyes. Maybe it was too soon for you to be living together like this? You loved Harry and you wanted your relationship to go the distance. But maybe things were moving too fast for you to handle. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to fight off another wave of tears that were building up behind your waterline. 
“Darling?” Harry’s voice startled you, his presence a lot closer than you expected when you opened your eyes. “You alright?” 
“No.” You whimpered, your lower lip shaking a little as you shook your head. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch.” 
“Hey now,” He tutted, climbing under the covers before he wrapped his arms around your body. “I don’t want to hear you say that again. You weren’t being a bitch, you were just upset. S’perfectly normal and I’m not upset with you.” 
“I didn’t mean what I said.” You cried into his shoulder, tucking your arms around his body as he cooed softly. “I love your face and I want to see it all the time.” 
“I know, darling.” He let out a soft chuckle, brushing a hand over the back of your head as his lips pressed over your forehead. “I know you didn’t mean it.” 
“I love being here with you and I really don’t want to go anywhere….but I’m scared.” You confessed, tilting your head back as you sniffled. Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you. He lifted his hand, pulling the sleeve of his hoodie over his finger before he wiped under your nose. “Gross.” 
“You were dripping.” He chuckled. “Why are you scared, love?” 
“Because this is all so soon.” You cleared your throat. “I don’t want us to fall apart before we even have the chance to start and I’m afraid living together is putting a strain on us.” 
“All because of one fight?” He said. “We’re going to fight, darling. It would happen even if we were living separately, I know it would. It’s only natural to disagree with each other or to be upset when something happens. We’re only human.” 
“So you don’t want me to go?” You asked. 
“No, I really don’t.” He confessed. “And I’m honestly surprised we’ve made it this far without going for each other’s throats. Think we beat Mitch and Sarah out on that one.” 
“Those two are so zen.” Your eyes widened. “They’ve been fighting.” 
“Sarah’s drumming is very disturbing to Mitch’s writing process and she doesn’t like the way he eats pasta.” Harry rolled his eyes. “We’re going to be fine, love. But if you really want some time alone or you’re thinking about going back-” 
“I don’t want to go anywhere.” You whispered. “I want to stay right here with you.” 
“I wouldn’t be upset if you wanted to go home.” He said softly, pressing his forehead against yours. “I want you to be happy.” 
“I’m happy with you.” With a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, you knew that everything would be okay. “But I really do have to say, Sarah has a point with that pasta thing. You know you slurp when you eat spaghetti-” 
“Oi! I do not slurp!” He cried out, pulling back to look down at you. “You cheat at Scrabble!” 
“I do not!” You laughed, shocked by his accusation. 
“Why are you always on your phone then!” A smug smirk settled over his lips as your cheeks grew warm. “I knew it!” 
“I don’t always know how to spell the words I’m thinking of!” You groaned, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. 
“Well, if we’re going on about things we dislike,” He started. “Let me say a few things about you that I love.” 
“Do tell.” You grumbled. 
“I love when you’re sleepy because it’s almost like seeing you drunk. You stumble around and you forget what you’re saying in the middle of a sentence. I love when you’re snuggling up to my side even though we haven’t left each other alone for the entire day. It’s like you’re still happy to see me...to be with me even though we’ve been together for months now.” 
“I am.” You whispered. “I love how thoughtful you are. Like, when you get out of the shower you leave the water running because you know I want to hop in before I get too cold. And I love the way you sing under your breath all the time, even when you don’t notice you’re doing it!” 
“I do that a lot?” He asked, a soft chuckle escaping him as you nodded. “You know what else I love?” 
“What?” You tilted your head back, looking into his eyes as he smiled. 
“You.” 
It felt as though the world stopped spinning. 
It felt as though you were the only two left in the world and that nothing else mattered because Harry loved you. Like earlier, your eyes began to water with emotion and your heart was pounding hard against your ribcage. You felt so full and warm and happy and loved. Surging forward, you pressed your lips to his with a wet giggle. He was quick to accept your sappy and tearful kiss, molding his lips with yours in a perfect rhythm. When you realized you hadn’t said it back to him, you pulled away with a quick gasp. Harry's lips trailed over your cheek as you spoke. 
“I love you, too.” 
And despite the annoying things about your boyfriend that got on your nerves, you really did love him with your whole heart. 
That alone was enough to ensure you that everything would be okay. 
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balladeer-angelo · 4 years
Note
Pretty pretty please☆ 39, with carlos x reader cuz i have an extreme thirst♡♡♡
this turned out so long and I’m so sorry but I just had too much fun with it lol enjoy!
Carlos x Reader
39: “Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”
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He wasn't sure what was going on this week, but he swore you were up to something.
It all started Monday morning, the beginning of a busy work week for both you and Carlos. You were in the kitchen cooking breakfast, pancakes with a warm cream cheese frosting, humming and swaying in your pajama shorts and a tank top while you whisked the batter. He shuffled into the kitchen with a 'good morning' yawn, immediately going for the fresh pot of coffee. You greeted him, pouring some batter into the sizzling pan. He was leaning against the counter, sipping his hot cup of Joe when you turned to ask him if he slept well as he'd been having trouble just keeping his eyes closed most nights. Those tired eyes of his zeroed in on your chest, something white and translucent drizzled across your cleavage. He almost choked.
"You've got- um..." His voice rumbles out from behind the ceramic mug, teetering off as he continued to stare like he had fallen into a trance. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "Your chest. There's... stuff on your-." He points at you and draws in the air with his finger.
You look down and click your tongue. "Ugh, damn it." You whined. "Guess I wasn't paying much attention while I was making the frosting."
You tug down the front of your top just enough to reveal the rest of the sticky mess and, inadvertently, the valley between your breasts. Carlos watches you drag two fingers through one of the many tiny ropes of frosting and place them in your mouth. His cock stirs at the sight and he finds himself completely mesmerized. You pick up as much as you can, casually cleaning off your digits with your tongue like he's not in your company, mumbling to yourself that at least you didn't do a bad job. Carlos wonders if you'd let him rut his cock between your breasts so he could paint your chest and watch you lap all that up as well. Then the two of you would eat the pancakes you'd made right after and he'd give you a lingering kiss and be on his way.
His eyes dart to the tiny clock on Mr. Coffee. He doesn't have time. With a sigh he sets down his cup and lumbers over to you to plant a kiss to your forehead, doing all he can to avoid looking at your chest any longer lest he ends up being late.
"You're not gonna eat?" You pout up at him and he gives an apologetic smile.
"I gotta go in early today. New recruits. 'Lot of ropes to show."
"Fiiine." You groan dramatically, though he knows you're not actually upset. "Don't go too easy on 'em."
He chuckles and gives you one last kiss to the crown of your head. "You got it, boss."
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The next day, he had found a pair of your panties, the thin kind with a lot of lace embroidered on it, in the back pocket of his pants. He wasn't even the one to notice them first. One of the new recruits had openly pointed at something pink poking out of his pocket, nosy as to what it was. He tugged it out and immediately crushed it in his hand before shoving it back into his pants upon realizing that it wasn’t a handkerchief. The other men snickered amongst themselves and Carlos roughly cleared his throat. "Alright, alright. Settle down."
He called you as soon as he was on his lunch break.
"Any idea how your panties ended up in my back pocket, babe?"
"Hm? My panties?" You sounded genuinely confused over the soft tapping of your fingers on a keyboard.
"Well, they're not mine. Pink and lace aren't exactly my style."
"Ohh!
I was wondering where those went! Must've gotten mixed together during laundry day. I usually wash the intimates separately."
He pulls your underwear back out to look at them. The silky fabric felt soothing against the new callouses sprouting on his palm. He's curious how they might feel wrapped around his rousing cock.
"Guess so..." He mutters to himself.
Your voice cuts through the polluted thoughts filling his mind and he's reminded then by the silent ticking coming from the wall that, once again, he doesn't have the time to find out.
"Is there any chance you could swing by the grocery store after work? We're running low on eggs."
"Sure thing."
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By Wednesday, his suspicions were steadily mounting to almost headache-inducing levels. You had stopped by his workplace to go over paperwork with one of the higher-ups, something boring. Carlos was tasked with helping you pull down some files in one of the archive rooms. He watched you squat down in front of one of the shelves to pull out one of the many brown boxes on the bottom, sifting through its contents. Carlos finds that he really likes you in formal wear. A blazer, dress pants, and heels were a good look on you.
"Carlos, can you reach up there and start pulling down the boxes at the top for me?" You pull him out of his thoughts yet again and he carefully walks over to you, shins gently nudging against your back as he reaches up and grabs a box with both hands.
He keeps up this uniform pace; taking boxes from the top shelf and placing them in a pile to your right while you search the pile you've made beside your left. He's not even entirely sure what you're looking for and he figures he should probably ask. But your exclamation catches him by surprise, as does the way that your body is slotted up against him when you suddenly rise to your feet.
"Oh! I think that's the one!" You take his arms and lower them so they're caging either side of your waist, removing the flimsy top to the box he's still holding. Carlos swallows hard, staring at your hands from over your shoulder as you rummage through the files. Your ass is perfectly pressed right into his crotch, warm and soft. It rubs against him in such an unassuming manner as you shift your hip to one side. You're not even leaning any of your weight into him but he can feel every inch of you through his clothes, licking at the sweat on his skin like fire on gasoline.
There's no way you can't feel how hard he's getting. Just as he starts imagining just how fucking hot it would be if you let him fuck you right up against these shelves in this cramped dingy space, if you let him stuff his now aching cock into you from behind while he uses his fingers to keep you quiet, you're tilting your head up to peck his chin and slipping out of his arms before he can even muster up a single word.
"Found it! Thanks a bunch, babe. I'll be back to help you clean up in a sec!"
You trot out of the room with the files you were looking for, leaving him with a box that was slowly beginning to slip out of his clammy palms and a throbbing hard-on. His groans fill the stuffy room, frustrated and grumpy. When you had returned to help him like you said, the boxes that had been disturbed were put back in their place, though precariously and not alphabetically, and Carlos was nowhere to be found.
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Thursday was the day he was sure he would combust on the spot. You had the day off while he was scrambling to get out of the door on time, somehow managing to snooze through his alarm once sleep had finally found him. While he was in the bathroom briskly scrubbing his teeth, he catches something out of his peripheral vision in the shower, something pale pink and... thick.
He slides the glass door open and nearly spits up all the foaming toothpaste in his mouth. It's one of your toys, a dildo, your favorite one, suctioned to one of the tiles on the shower wall at a particular height. Upon closer inspection, he notices that it's got a glossy wet look to it that he knows isn't water. It looked as if it had just been used.
He could feel his heartbeat in his groin again as he stared at it with his toothbrush dangling between his lips. When did you use it? This morning? You did wake up before he did, and it's not like he could go and ask you about it since you were already gone to take care of errands. He could text or call you, but... He starts to imagine how you must've looked when you decided to play. Hands pressed against the glass, fogged-up with steam, wriggling your pussy back onto the heavy hanging toy while your moans get drowned out by the rushing water crashing down on your dipping back.
Did you think of him while you were fucking yourself? Did you imagine it was his cock instead? Were you breathing his name into the glass so he wouldn't hear you? If you needed to get off so bad, you should've just asked him to take care of you! He would even lay there and let you use him, use his body, his hot cock to chase your pleasure. Ride him all throughout the early morning haze, coming over and over again around him and letting him fill you up with copious amounts of his cum.
He finished brushing his teeth with yet another painful erection that he couldn't take care of because time just wouldn’t allow it. Thoughts of you naked and writhing beneath him, fervently sucking him off, peering over your shoulder at him with that knowing smirk as his hips slam into the plump flesh of your ass are all that flood his head for the rest of what felt like the longest day of the week for Carlos.
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After another tedious and grueling day of work, he was ready to go home and enjoy a nice relaxing weekend with you. Friday could've come sooner but he was too exhausted to complain, too eager to get inside and wash off the sweat and grime of the day. He stumbles through the door and his eyes are scanning the apartment for you almost instantly.
"Babe? You home?" He calls out, toeing off his boots by the door.
"In the bedroom!" Your voice echoes from down the hall, a sound he's quick to follow despite the fatigue setting in his body. When he finds you, the sight is enough to have him quietly groaning to himself, something familiar churning in his lower belly.
"Hey! How was work?" You ask cheerfully, naturally, as if you weren't just laying in bed on your belly reading a magazine, wearing one of his shirts with the sleeves rolled up to your shoulders, and some panties. The very same ones that had found their way into his pocket on Tuesday.
"Fine." He mutters though he isn't sure if you even heard him.
You toss the magazine onto the end table next to the bed and hop up onto your knees to stretch your arms above your head with a soft sound of exertion. His eyes never leave the sight of the sheer rosy fabric framing your ass.
"I just got off a few hours ago. It was such a slow day. But, T.G.I.F., right?"
You slide off the mattress and saunter towards the door, your arm brushing across his and you swear you feel him tense up at such a passing touch. A quiet current flowing through a tightly wound wick that was ready to ignite at the smallest spark.
“I’m gonna take a shower.”
His hand grabs your wrist and holds you in place for the merest of seconds before he whips you around to face him. “Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”
The look of surprise you give is authentic enough to have him second-guessing himself. Your blinking eyes, tilting head, and questioning hum almost dry up all the grounds for such a snap interrogation.
“I thought that maybe you really weren’t paying attention that morning when you got frosting all over your chest. And maybe you really did get our laundry mixed up cause there’s no way you could’ve slipped your panties into my pants without me knowing. But your little stunt at the office? And leaving your toy out in the bathroom where you knew I would see it? And now this?”
He gestures at his shirt hanging off your body, barely covering the lace culprit he had mentioned. “I’m startin’ to think that these little coincidences aren’t actually so coincidental.”
The look you give him could best be described as cat-like. A cat who rolled her red ball of yarn wherever she went with her tail held high cause she knew a certain someone would inevitably get snagged in her threads. And he was the big cute puppy she had banked on who got all tangled up.
“It took you this long to come to that conclusion, huh?”
The look on his face you would describe as utterly dumbfounded. Whether it was because of your overtly bold confession to his allegations or the fact that you weren’t coyly trying to deny it like he must’ve thought you would, you weren’t really sure.
“It started out as a coincidence that Monday morning, I’ll give you that much. But after I saw how riled up you got because of it -and don’t try to act like you hid it well- I just wanted to see how far I could take this little experiment before you caught on.”
You easily slipped your wrist from his hand, slowly slinking back inch by inch toward the door. “And especially since we were both gonna be too busy and tired through the week to even do anything, I thought it would be fun to keep you all hot and bothered for me until the weekend when we could let loose.”
You pause in the doorway, watching his expression. Heat had flooded his face, all the way to the tips of his ears though his hair did a good job hiding that. He looked like he was still processing all the details, seemingly at a loss for words at the moment. You took the opportunity to pull off his shirt, leaving you completely bare to him sans those damnable panties.
“I really am surprised it took until the end of the week for you to figure me out. And you’re accusing me of being the oblivious one?”
Whatever words he did manage to find come out in a splutter, the flush on his cheeks clouding over. His eyes follow the curve of your spine when you turn your back to him and playfully wiggle your hips.
“C’mon, puppy. You scrub my back and I’ll scrub yours. And maybe I’ll even show you how I used that toy of mine yesterday.”
The look you give him and those tacked on odds is ultimately what propels him forward, scooping you up into his arms and giving your shoulder an impish bite, relishing the taste of your skin and the sounds of your squeals and giggles as he carries you toward the bathroom.
He snarls into your ear, "You’re in for one hell of a weekend, fox."
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canumoveurseatup-no · 5 years
Text
Call of the Void
Summary: you’re the rock star heartbreaker but Clint wants to change that and it took him a long time to do so, he finally introduces you to the team and come to find a certain speedster can’t help but be head over heels for you.
WC: 10.7k (this was 30 pages omg)
Pairing: Husband!Clint x Black!HexGirl!Reader x Sub!Boyfriend!Pietro
Warnings: This is based off EG Clint but everyone is alive. There’s smut so this is of course 18+, spirituality, finger in the bum, squirting, listening to people have sex, like one mention of suicide
A/N: i dunno if the hex girl au has been done and if it has i doubt there’s a black version so i’m glad i came up with this idea and ran with it. please comment and reblog!! SHOUT OUT TO @noire-griot FOR MAKING MY LOVELY MOOD BOARD!!
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————
“Who’s the babe over there with all the tats?,” Clint looked over to one of his buds as he drank a beer and scanned the room, eyes stopping on you.
“Oh that’s Y/N... they call her Thorn. She’s the lead singer and bad ass guitarist of that new band, used to be called Hex Girls but changed it to ‘Call of the Void’” his friend took a swig if his beer and shrugged his shoulders, “I’d stay away from her though, she’s trouble, man. Absolute heartbreaker,”
Clint watched the chains on our pants swing back and forth as you danced with your band mates. He watched the way your faux locs swished like an ocean as you threw your head back in laughter. You were right up his alley, music artist with wonderful taste, bad ass tattoos and killer style. He wanted you.
“Mm,” Clint shrugged as well, “I can change that,”
“Clint, they don’t call her Thorn for nothing. She’ll stick her thorns on ya and leave ya bleeding out while she watches in enjoyment,”
“Maybe you should have been a fuckin’ poet rather than a drummer,”
“Eh, I do slam poetry on Wednesday’s,”
“Whatever, man. I’m gonna go talk to her,”
Clint’s friend said something that he couldn’t quite catch because he was already more than ten feet away in no time, the music was screaming through the dark room and you were screaming right along with your bandmates in each other’s faces.
“‘Scuse me,” Clint said into your ear. Usually you ignore guys who come up to you but someone about his voice intrigued you. You turned your head and your brows raise in interest as your eyes scan him up and down.
“Excuse you is right considering you were interrupting some fun,” Your voice was like velvet and it wrapped him in a tight embrace, “But I’ll allow it this once for a fan,”
He didn’t want to correct you, he’d actually never heard a single song, but he’d make sure to after tonight.
“Just wanted to let a little lady like you know you look good,”
You kinda just chuckled at him, “Not that little. Don’t get too much dip on ya chip, might break,” you tum back to your friends to continue your night of fun
“Guess I’ll just have to get another chip then,”
His voice made you freeze and slowly turn back to him, arms crossed and tattoos bold against your skin, “Persistent fella,”
“A woman like you only shows up once in every blue moon, gotta cease my chance,”
Your Tripp pants fell on your hips nicely and just under your cropped band tee, he could see the outline of a snake come up the side of your ribcage to under your boob.
“And men like you come and go just as the tide does, what makes you think I’m not gonna ride this wave out and throw you out like an old surfboard when I’m done like the rest?,”
Clint loves your attitude. He could tell you didn’t take any shit and that only made him want you more, “Not a regular ‘ole ripple like you’re used to, Thorn,”
You could smell his cologne as he stepped closer, it took everything you had in you to not close your eyes and bask in his scent. You watched him lick his lips and raise a brow at you. You liked this one, you could keep him around for a bit.
“Then what are ya?,”
“More like record breaking tsunami. Lasting effects, hard to forget something like me,”
With your Demonia Trinity’s, you stood at perfect eye level with him, he wasn’t giving up and while most of them usually don’t, this one was different. He had spunk to him.
“Hey, Tove,” you call over your shoulder to your bandmate. Sweet girl with fast fingers when it came to the keyboard and synth.
“Yeah?,”
“Lock up when you guys get home, don’t think I’ll be back tonight,”
———
A few foiled packets hit Clint in the chest and he looked down at them, shrugged before tearing one open and rolling it down on himself. He’s probably the first to not complain about having to wrap it up before he tapped it up.
You heard him let out a slow deep breath as he pushed into you slowly. He was boning a rockstar, someone of his caliber, he definitely made sure to show out so you’d be the one coming back for more.
You ran your hand up his tattooed sleeve until he pinned your hands above your head with one of his, “Can I choke you? Wanna feel your pulse pounding against my fingertips,”
“Holy shit, please,”
Usually it was you who did the turning out but now you were the one being turned out, you hated being out of control but here you were, legs busted wide open with a hand right around your throat. This man was something else.
Hard staccatoed thrusts are fucked into you and your body can’t help but fall subject to him. Seeing you now, under him, you were a completely different person. Out in the open you’re a badass sadist but here you are a submissive good girl.
“Not so tough are you now, huh?,” Clint was practically hate fucking you and that’s all you needed. You didn’t know you needed it until it was happening, “Wanted to be a bitch at the party but look at you now. You’re my bitch,”
“Oh fuck, yes,” normally you did the bitch calling, but dammit was Clint putting it down. You couldn’t help but be putty in his hands, “Harder. Need it harder,”
He fucked you until you broke free of his thigh grip and tapped out. He pulled out of your throbbing pussy as you wiped your tears trying to catch your breath.
“What are you doing to me?,” you cover your face and laugh.
“I told you I’m not those little ripples you fucked with before and I meant that. You wanted to ride the tsunami so now you get to drown,”
His finger pushed into your soaking pussy and your wetness was absolutely obscene. Your eyes rolled into your head and he hadn’t even started moving yet. He might as well had been drowning you, it was getting hard to breathe as another wave crashed down you, bringing you to yet another orgasm.
“I need you. I need you so fucking bad,”
His hands gripped your hips fighting before he sunk back deep into you, your back arching off the bed and toes curling into the covers. His lips never left your body. Lips wrapped around your brown nipples and sucked until he decided to move to your neck, biting and making sure you would feel him for a few days after.
“You know what I’m gonna do?,” he whispered in your ear
“Cum for me?,”
“Gonna cum hard for you and leave you to stew with your thoughts for days to come. Leave you wanting more,” he moved his hips harder, knocking the air out of you in moans and whimpers, “Gonna have you thinking about how I felt inside you like this. Not even your own hand can make you feel good like I can, you’re gonna have no choice but to come back for more,”
You knew he was right. He already exceeded your expectations at the underground party. Now he was really showing out.
“So you’re gonna cum for me like I want you to and not say a damn thing,” he lifted your legs on his shoulders and went harder, grunting loudly to chase his own orgasm.
“F-fuck fuck fuck!,” your nails dig into his forearms as you came another time, your body entirely spent.
His hips stilled as he came into the condom, panting with a slack jaw, hair sticking to his forehead, tattoos glistening in the glowing red room.
“I’ll call you a cab in the morning,” he simply pulled out of you and went in the bathroom to take a shower. You laid there shocked, usually you’d be the one calling the cab and leaving them to lie there in filth.
He was really something else
———
“Get your head in the game, Thorn!” Amity scolded. You kept forgetting the lyrics with Clint running through your mind, “We have a big show this weekend and there’s a huge prize at stake here,”
“Alright alright, Dusk. Just.. just shut it for a minute!,” sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose before taking a sip of your water.
“Blood, blood, blood
Pour more through my veins
I'm a dirty, dirty girl
I want it filthy”
Muttering the lyrics to yourself you took a deep breath and stood back at the mic. It was a new song and granted, you wrote it, but something else was flooding your mind.
“She’s dickmatized,” Tove snickers and you throw your guitar pick at her
“At least I get some, Luna”
“We all can’t have ethereal pussy like you, Thorn,”
You three barely called each other by your real names now. The stage names stuck and worked as nicknames.
She handed you your guitar pick back and started on the synth again, ready for you to come in.
“I hate you for the sacrifices you made for me
I hate you for every time you ever bled for me
I hate you for the way you smile when you look at me
I hate you for never taking control of me
I hate you for always saving me from myself
I hate you for always choosing me and not someone else
I hate you for always pulling me back from the edge
I hate you for every kind word you ever said
I'll bleed you dry now,”
Your body swayed to the verse before you put your all into the chorus, screaming the lyrics and moving around like you had an audience. You imagined Clint there and that’s when you really started to feel the song. You imagine him in the front row, sweating and smiling at you, jumping up and down, headbanging. God, that would be a sight to see.
The intensity of the song had you thinking about that night and how he ruined you for any other man
“I love you for everything you ever took from me
I love the way you dominate and you violate me
I love you for every time you gave up on me
I love you for the way you look when you lie to me
I love you for never believing in what I say
I love you for never once giving me my way
I love you for never delivering me from pain
I love you for always driving me insane
I'll bleed you dry now”
You felt chills run down your body as you strummed the strings faster and faster, feeling your face heat up. You couldn’t wait to get there out front of a crowd where you’d have a whole crowd screaming out and moshing, fists pumping and eyes glazed over from the drunkenness and inebriation from all the pot.
You end the song with huff and a big smile
“See, all you had to was get your mind in the right place. We’re gonna kill it!,”
“So- was the dick that good? or should I say cock?,” Luna smiled mischievously and made sure to put extra and weird emphasis on the word.
“Coming out of your mouth? Hell no,”
You all sit on the couch and take a break. Creating music was not easy, creating good music wasn’t easy! So giving yourselves breaks was needed, especially with recording and working with modulations and screaming and the instruments, it was all a clusterfuck until it all came together.
“Come oooon, Thorn. Tell uuus, spill the potion,” She pleaded. She always liked to live vicariously through your stories lately, something about a sex fast to keep her energies in check.
“It was different. You know how I am. I barely let anyone touch me but goodness, girls. His hands were just- unreal. They were so rough and experienced. You know I like to be the dominant one but him? He took the wheel. He choked the hell outta me. Dirty talk is A1.. stroke game- it’s like a game of archery and he hits the bullseye every tiiiiime,” you clenched your legs together just thinking about it. You wondered when you’d get to see him again.
“He got a brother? Cousin? Best friend?,” Dusk looks over her glasses at you and sets her cup down.
“I don’t know all of that!,”
“Fuck me sidewaaaays I need some,” Luna screams out into the studio room.
“How far are you in your 100 day sex fast?,” you nudge her.
“Bitch, only day 30,” she sighs, “but it’s for a good cause. My body rejects dick that’s not for me, so I’m protecting her for the time being,”
It made sense- you never really had to worry about that- condoms were always a must- and you never really had a person come into your life that made you not want to use them.
“Your vagina is gonna become depressed,” Dusk adds nonchalantly.
“That’s not possible!”
“Oh but it is,”
They always went back and forth like that. Dusk was like the instigative sibling that was monotone about everything to sound more serious and Luna was like the younger sibling that believed everything and whined while you were like that single parent that had to break them apart.
“Thooooorn, tell her that’s not truuue,” she flung herself back in the chair.
“Sorry, buttercup, read up on it. The vagina can become depressed from lack of sex”
“Listen, I already gotta deal with regular depression now my vagina gotta go through it?!,”
“Just masturbate,”
“Okay okay- enough,” you stand up and laugh at the two, “Let’s get back to work. We still have three other songs to work on for the set list this weekend,”
—————
The crowd was rowdy. You were peeking from behind the curtain and saw the other bands getting them excited for you. Being an all black girl alternative band was already intimidating but headlining a music festival? Yeah that was different.
You stood on side and held your crystal, giving it purpose before you went out on stage and gave it your all.
“Now for the act you’ve all been waiting for” the announcer gets the crowd going and their screams put a smile on your face. You’ve still got a long way to go but you’re proud of how far you’ve come with your band and music. Starting out as a little garageband known as the Hex Girls now you’re here, performing at music festivals.
“Oh no-,” Luna turns to you, “I got the nervous poops again,”
“Well I hope you wore ya diaper because we don’t have time for a potty break,” Dusk tightens her guitar strap and gets ready to walk on stages
“I don’t need a diaper! It’ll pass once we get on stage!,”
“Call of the Vooiiidd!!,”
You adjust your ear piece and pat Luna on her butt, “It’s shooow tiiiime”
The lights were hot as hell, but it helped distract you from the large crowd. They were so excited to see you guys perform though. You used the adrenaline of you being nervous as a charge to get you going. You’ve all put in long hours of hard work and lyrical artistry to be here. The breakdowns, the arguments, broken instruments and wanting to give up on multiple occasions is what got you here. 
You got this.
“We’re Call of the Void,” the screams were like a welcoming hug, comforting in a way and took any fear you had away, “And we’re here to fuck shit up,” 
Dusk came in with the drums and there was no turning back now.
What you didn’t know was that Clint was there. At the first mention of your band being there he had to come and support, he spent days listening to your songs and learning the lyrics just so he could be here today and support you. He spent nights pleasing himself to the sound of your voice growling invigorating lyrics through his headphones. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t run laps in his mind, just like he did in yours. 
He watched you run all around and jump around the stage, getting the crowd going. A mosh pit opened up right behind him and while any other time he’d join in the exhilarating moments of fighting strangers to music, he stayed right where he was to watch you. The way you moved your body was so languid and fluid, the way your lips moved to sing, scream, growl every lyric and modulation had chills running down his body. 
Sure your music was great through headphones, but live was such a better experience, this made him realize why you all got big so fast.
He watched Dusk get wild in the drums, his eyes glistened at the way Luna’s fingers moved on the keyboard and synth. He admired you all, this was a band, he thought. 
You on the other hand, you are having the time of your life and you know this is just the beginning. You stepped to the front of the stage and got low, that’s when you saw him... mouthing your lyrics and smirking at you. 
You got on your hands and knees and crawl to the edge, getting as close to him as possible as he was a couple rows away.
“I know you want me I know you need me But I just wanna fuck”
You wink at him and the crowd only screams louder and Clint can feel himself getting hotter. Not because of the propinquity of the pit, but because you just did that to him. It was like  you could set him on fire but extinguish it at the same time. 
You could give him life yet take it away. 
That was the kind of power you had. 
You ran an entire set, 45 minutes worth of pure adrenaline and sweat. Some people in the crowd suffering from nosebleeds and busted lips and bruising just because your music made everyone that wild. They loved it though because at the end, everyone was left grinning and screaming for an encore. Everyone knew they’d be getting a good sleep tonight.
“Thank you all for the ride,” you were catching your breath as you paced the stage, “You definitely will be seeing and hearing more from us. This is just the beginning,”
You were thankful to have such a diverse fan base, even more blessed to see more alternative people of color like yourself. This is what you wanted. This was a dream come true and it only came true because you had people who believed in you and people who never told you to give up.
“Be safe getting home,” You, Luna and Dusk run off the stage and hug each other, still full of energy.
“That was the beesst show we have ever had!,” Dusk was wiping her forehead and smiling back at you both as if what just happened wasn’t real. But it was real alright. 
“The energy tonight was amaziiiing!,” Luna squealed as she skipped to the trailer, the crystals around her neck creating a small clinking sound every time she landed on the balls of her feet. 
The breeze felt good against your skin as your body finally started to cool down. 
“Thorn,”
You stop in your tracks and the girls turn around at the voice as well. They were almost in the trailer when they saw him walking behind you. 
“Ouuu he’s baaaack,” Luna teases.
“Get ya dumbass inside!,” 
“But I wanna seeee,” 
Dusk pushes her inside the trailer and shuts the door behind the two of them, leaving you and Clint at the steps.
“You killed it out there,” 
“Of course I did,” you sat on the steps and glared up at him. You couldn’t let him onto you, couldn’t let him know that you’d been thinking about him ruining you all over again just like he did only a week ago.
“Let’s not play games or beat around the bush and drop hints hoping the other will catch on,” He stands tall, crossing his arms and looking smug. Damn him, all the other men were just play toys but him? He wasn’t with the shits. He wanted to lay down the law which was completely opposite of what you were used to.
“Not sure what you mean,” you were sure he could read you like a book. You enjoyed remaining an indecipherable code to everyone else but Clint just had this ability to crack the code and everything he found inside was for the taking.
“I’m think you do,” He leaned down and got in your face, noses touching and his eyes boring into yours, “So let’s just be adults and admit we can’t get each other off the other’s mind, yeah?,”:
You really did a number on yourself with this one.
----------
“Try not to need me,” Clint sat down with the team at dinner and explained that he’d be going away for a bit. For what exactly, they didn’t need to know all of that, they just needed to know that they’d have to make due with the resources they have now.
You two had been together for two years and married for about six months now and your band had made it big. He was going on tour with you, after you had done enough begging. In and out the bedroom.
“Why do you always disappear like this?,” Steve couldn’t help but ask. They always ask, it was a game of cat and mouse and he always got away.
“I have other obligations,” Clint always kept his answers short and vague.
“Like?,”
“Like minding my business, Tony,” 
This was the norm. They had no idea what Clint was up to and he made sure Fury kept it that way. Sure you were already big, but the world didn’t need to know you were his wife. You knew about what he did, the avenging by day, rock star husband by day and night. 
“I can’t see anything, guys,” Wanda’s voice gave off a defeated tone, as if she was supposed to succeed in some top secret mission and failed. 
“Really guys? Trying to take a look into my head?,” he eats a piece of pepperoni that fell on his short and shook his head, “That’s a new low,” 
“We just wanna know what you’re hiding from us,” Nat nudges him with her foot.
“Clearly if I’m hiding anything it’s for good reason,” Clint snatches the remote from Sam to turn up the TV to avoid any more conversation, “Now shut up, this episode is great,” 
-
You were at home packing everything into the tour bus. This would be your home again for the next few months. This was your first tor since you’ve all made it big and while it was nerve racking, you wouldn’t give it up and the fact you have a husband now? and he gets to experience this with you? yeah you definitely wouldn’t trade this. 
You have two days left at home before you all hit the road cross country. You told Clint to spend time with his avenging friends. You made a list of everything that you needed and made sure to check it like ten times before setting it to the side. 
You knew Dusk and Luna would wait till the last minute to pack just to whine that they forgot something and have to make a pit stop at the nearest store to get what they need. It was classic them to do so, it’s happened on past trips.
You hear the jingle of Clint’s keys and the heavy patter of his boots coming down the hall just as you set his duffel bag and suitcase by the closet door.
“I love it when you wear my shirts, love the side boob,” 
He always adored you in all your glory, even when your hair was all over the place because you were in between styles. Even when your nail polish was chipped, even when you didn’t feel like shaving any body hair and it was grown out. 
“I thought I told you to spend time with your hero friends,” You stand on his boots to lean up and get a kiss. He tasted like his favorite beer, “You taste like beer, what did I tell you about driving home after drinking?,”
“It was a couple sips before I threw it out and came home because they started badgering me again. So I came home to my wife,” He throws himself back on the bed and kicks off his boots before pulling you into his lap to straddle him.
You love the feeling of his hands on your thighs, just rubbing them so his hands didn’t remain idle. You couldn’t help but kiss him, you’ve missed him lately. All the board meetings and planning and extra time in the studio had separated you two more than you’d like to admit. While you did tell him to spend time with his friends, you were glad he returned home early. 
“Ou, this is new, which one is this?,” his hand reached for your necklace but he drew it back when you slapped it away.
“Hey! Didn’t anyone ever tell you to not touch another person’s crystals?” You smooth your hands along his chest and give him a look that lacked amusement.
“Well excuuuse me,” his arms wrapped around your thighs so that he could flip you over, “I wanna have coitus with my wife now though and I’d like to choke you out so I’d recommend removing it,”
“Oh.. oh okay,” you raised yourself off the black sheets for a second to remove you necklace and set it on the bedside table, “I’m all yours,”
“Glad we had that talk,” 
You loved to see him smile, especially when his eyes became tiny slits because that indicated how genuine his smile was and hey, it’s you he’s smiling at, of course it’d be genuine.
His hands slipped into the sides of his homemade muscle shirt that you were wearing and his cool rings clashed with the warmth of your pierced nipples as he groped them and rolled them in his hands. You opened your legs wider for him to get closer while his mouth was working on your neck and lips.
Tonight was about to be full of rounds as this was the last time you both would be able to have all types of sex in the comfort and privacy of your own home. You could be as loud as you want. He would be as rough as he wanted without people thinking you were being hurt.
“Take the shirt off, Y/N,” the way his voice rasped always got you going, always ready to let him have his way with you, you loved feeling vulnerable under him because outside of this you were that independent woman who didn’t need a man despite her having a husband and Clint was there to support you independence, but you still appreciated his support and efforts no matter what because sometimes you did need to be brought back down to Earth and he was there.
“Fuck I missed you,” you gasp as his teeth tug on your hardened nipples, barely giving you time to throw the shirt to the side. 
He showed you how much he missed you by burying his face in between your thighs. Feasting on everything you had to offer. You’ve thanked the cosmos over and over for giving you a man who treated you right, stayed in his lane yet supported you and put his foot down when needed aaand delivered a good sex game. He was the perfect package, including all the bits and pieces that made up his own personality. 
“Yes, baby” you spread your legs wider and hold the back of your thighs to watch his tongue move fast against your swollen clit. 
“I will never get sick of the way you taste,” he groaned, staring at your pussy like it was the best meal he’d ever have in his life. He got into it every time, closing his eyes and shaking his head, moaning against you at the juices that flowed for him. 
Those fingers, absolute gifts. Something about getting fingered always had you ready to explode. He moved them fast, made sure to stimulate all parts of you. He never failed to make you whine and your toes curl in the air.
“I want you to cum for me,” 
And what he wants, he gets. You’re moving your hips up against his fingers in a needy little motion with wanton cries and chills running down your body. 
“That’s it,” 
He was so encouraging and it never failed to make your face heat up. You damned him for it from the moment you met him. Clint knew what he was doing, pushing every button, threading the eye of every needle, hitting every target dead set in the center. He just knew.
“C’mon, no more games. I need you,” you pulled on his hair to get him back up to you, “I want it, all night,”
------
Today would be the last day everyone got to see Clint before he went on another hiatus without a word of what he would be doing or so much as a hint to where. For months, again, the team wouldn’t know if he was dead or alive until he popped back up.
Pietro was alone in his room, spending his free time watching your music and behind the scenes videos. 
He was obsessed with your band, but for the most part, just you. The way you’d look into the camera made him feel like you were looking at him. Your hair always sat atop your head like a crown no matter the style. Whether it was your natural big puffs, your individual braids, wigs, locs, anything, he was mesmerized. He was a hardcore fanboy and was not afraid to admit it. 
“I think... I think being spiritual is much more than just trying to stay positive all the time,” 
God, he loved your voice. He loved how low in register it was to others. You sounded so dignified and established, just by talking.
“Honestly, fuck the whole notion that you have to be nice to be seen as spiritual. Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is put a bitch in her place, I’m not saying be an unwarranted asshole but don’t let people walk over you just because they think you can’t help but be nice” He laughed at the genuine answer, he didn’t know you personal but he felt so close to you, granted you are human, but you just didn’t let the fame get to your head and sometimes he had to remember you were a real life human, 
“Respecting your boundaries is spiritual, not being taken advantage of is spiritual, allowing yourself to feel anger is spiritual. It’s so much more than crystal wearing and sage burning and trying to be happy go lucky. No one can be like that all the time... no matter how hard you want to be, because there’s always that someone that wants to get you out of character,” 
Pietro felt connected to you, he’s never felt like this before. He was never the type to rush to a computer to buy the early bird tickets or the latest merch but here he was, being that person and he didn’t give a damn.
“Piet, time for dinner. Clint’s here and he brought a guest, so clean yourself up,” Wanda threw something at him to get his attention away from the phone but he just grunted while getting out of bed.
“I’ll be out in a biiit,” He shooed her away and fixed his hair and hung up his room shorts for a nice pair of dark jeans. He decided to keep your band’s tee crew neck on, that should be good enough for Clint’s guest. How ‘cleaned up’ did Wanda want him to get? 
Pietro slipped on some shoes and trudged his way into the dining room. He still had his phone in hand watching your videos when he heard the melodic, sultry vibrations of your voice, and not just from his phone, no. You were actually here, sitting down, eating dinner in his home.
He dropped his phone and stood there with his mouth hung open. He was in such a shock he was surprised he didn’t piss his pants in excitement.
“Is he okay?,” you noticed him staring at you and found it weird until you noticed your band name on his crew neck. A fan, interesting. 
“Yeah he’s just obsessed over you,” His sister shrugs and places mash potatoes on her plate, “Piet, sit down and close your mouth. You look silly,” 
“How cute,” 
He turned red at the sound of you calling him cute. You found him cute... you’re seated right in front of him and you called him cute!
Pietro slowly slid into his chair and tried not to stare but he couldn’t help it. You’re real.
“Anyway,” Clint cleared his throat and looked around the table to make sure he had everyone’s attention, “Now that everyone is here. This is my wife, Y/N and she’s an artist,”
“You owe me 50 bucks,” Sam points to Natasha and Bucky.
The two groan in in defeat and slap the money in his hands. You found it amusing, they all had a cute little team going here. 
“Babe, this is everyone,” 
Your eyes pan around the room to get a good look everyone, putting a face to a name, you knew who was who just by his vague descriptions from before.
Your eyes stop on Pietro and he’s still looking at you as if he’s seen a ghost. He was honestly adorable and he reminded you of your early days when you’d make men like him your toys. You send him a wink and his yes only get wider.
“Piet stop ogling her!,” Wanda slapped him upside his head and he hissed, sending a glare her way for embarrassing him.
“It’s quite alright,” you smile at the twins and turn to look at Clint who had a brow raised at you. He knew exactly what you were thinking. Before you two even got married, you explained to him that you were in polygamy and he was fine with that. He never really had eyes for another woman and he knew how other times you liked to feel dominant and while that wasn’t his thing, he was willing to let you have that with someone else, but the moment never presented itself, until  maybe... now?
“What?,” you knew he was onto you but you loved playing bashful with him. 
“We’ll talk when we get home,” he tried to hide his smile but it was you he was talking to, hiding his smile was useless. 
“So, Y/N,” Tony cuts in, “What kind of art is it exactly that you do?,” 
You notice the way he’s eyeing you and Tony himself wasn’t sure if he found you odd or if he was fucking with it, either way, he liked it. 
“I make music,” plain and simple, “My childhood best friends and I made a band when we graduated high school, at first we didn’t think we’d honestly get anywhere but we’re about to go on our first tour,” 
Taking a sip of your wine you await a response
“Is that why Clint always disappears? You know to be with your band when you do stuff?,” the one that you believed to be Natasha asked before forking a piece of chicken in her mouth.
“Well I sure hope so or else we have something to talk about,” you nudge Clint and he nudges right back. On the outside, it seemed like you two were that evil, vampire couple that lived in an all black, old fashioned, tall, Victorian style home with a sphynx cat. While the house and cat part was accurate, you were just a normal married couple that lived life with a little stardom.
Pietro would never get tired of your voice, he always repeated that to himself but hearing your voice in person, he never thought it would be possible. You were radiant, aura calming and bright. The tattoos that decorated your skin looked even cooler in person, eyes twinkling even brighter, you were so tall and he loved it. 
You could stomp him out and he’d still say thank you-
“Pietro!,” Wanda slapped him upside his head harder this time, “Stop being weird,”
He cursed himself for saying that out loud. Your presence was just so intoxicating and hypnotizing in the best way possible. He always got nervous around attractive women. 
“You’re just so cute,” you lean forward on the table and just shake your head at him and point to your band’s crew neck that he was wearing, “What’s your favorite song?,”
Pietro felt his mouth go dry. You were talking to him, he had to play it cool, he couldn’t embarrass himself in front of you anymore. He felt his hands get clammy and he felt his eyes burning, he was really about to cry happy tears because you were talking to him.
“All of them,” he croaks
You give a gentle giggle and nod, “If you had to choose one.. what would it be?,”
You found it adorable how still he sat with his eyes wide like a deer in headlights. He licked his lips and moved his jaw up and down as his words got lost.
“I uh... uhm.. i..,”
“It’s okay, take your time,” you encouraged.
Pietro took a deep breath and calmed himself down, “I’d probably choose.. Natural Born Sinner... c-ca- because it’s raw and I like the statement. It’s always the first on my playlist. I just love your voice,” 
You grinned at how he talked as if you were a dream come true. You’ve met plenty of fans over the years but he was the cutest. So pure, so... ruinable. 
“Good choice,” 
Clint chuckled and shook his head at you, you were really something else. You couldn’t be tamed so like the lioness you were, he let you roam and trample what your willing prey.
Dinner went on and much of the conversation consisted of where you’d be performing, who your bandmates were, what your favorite clothing brand was because you definitely inspired Wanda to change her wardrobe. Tony made a mental note to listen to your band. Peter and Bucky wanted to meet your other mate, Sam and Natasha made sure they’d have to look up the price of your tickets because you just seemed so cool and genuine they had to support you. 
All while Pietro had an erection and was thinking of many things to make it go away.
Those sad puppy commercials, washing dishes with wet food, stubbing your pinky toe, ripping a hangnail, a cat hacking up a furball... Y/N has a cat... her name is Obsidian.. Y/N’s eyes are like black obsidian, Y/N is here right now.. .I bet she’d look so good above me... Just look at the way she’s looking at me now.. oh shit she’s looking at me!!
Pietro snapped back into reality and realized his erection had gone away just to come back when you winked at him. He shouldn’t like that- your husband is sitting right there...
“If you guys would like to come see us live one day, I can definitely make that happen,” you lean into Clint and he rubs your arm while everyone looks at you as if you were Oprah saying  “You get a ticket! you get a ticket! everyone gets a ticket!!,”
“Please?!,”
---------
“You made him so nervous,” Clint leaned back in his seat while driving.
“That wasn’t a look of nervousness, babe. I definitely made him horny. I know that look,” 
You’ve seen many give you that look in your life. You made them so nervous they couldn’t help but be turned on and they always begged for you to give it to them.
You heard Pietro’s pleas for sure. 
“I want that one... for sure,” 
The drive back to your house consisted of talks about how you both would work around this arrangement. Clint was totally fine with it, he wasn’t the jealous type plus he knew at the end of the day you were his wife. He knew you loved it when he took control and while he changed your life, your dominant side itched to come out and now it finally does, as long as Pietro is 1000% sure. You were presented with the best of both worlds as a switch and now you were so close to holding the two in your grasp.
“You’re acting like he’s a puppy or a new toy,”
He might as well be... please daddy I promise I’ll be nice,” you tease and beg like a child.
“I’ll see what I can do, sweet pea,”
---------
Today was the day, you were all packed and ready to go, but you and Clint had to make one pit stop before heading to Dusk and Luna’s house where the tour bus would meet you.
You had your braid up in a knot and sunglasses on, leather jacket spiked, skirt short and boots tall. You looked irresistible.
“Clint.. Y/N- waddaya doing here?,” Steve asked when he sees you two get off the elevator. 
“Where’s the nervous one?,” you question, wanting to get straight to the point. 
“Pietrooo!,” Clint called out and Pietro zoomed into the foyer and almost ripped when he saw you looking down at him.
“Y-you’re back,” already a stuttering mess he was.
“Yeah, got any plans over the next few months besides fanboying over me?,” you pop your gum and Piet could have busted a nut right then and there with the way your eyebrow coked up over the rim of your glasses. 
“J-just missions,”
“Great. I pardon you. So waddaya say you come with tour with me?,”
Pietro’s ears began ringing. There’s no way he just heard you correctly, right? Oh but he did hear you right. 
“You’re joking?,” 
“Do I look like I’m joking?,”
No, not you do not look like you’re joking and he doesn’t know how to handle it. Clint is just standing there, smug as ever.
“I’d... hell yeah I’d love to,”
You smile how how much thicker his accent had gotten from the excitement but you just nod and turn on your heels, 
“You have fifteen minutes to be in the lobby before we head out,”
God you looked so good walking away. Clint pushed him in the direction of his room, “Get a move on. We’re on a time schedule,”
--------
Even two months into traveling with you and Clint it still doesn’t seen real that he’s here. Experiencing you perform live was so surreal he couldn’t help but go into his hotel room or bunk and blow one after every show you all had. 
Luna knew he had a crush on you and she always teased him for it
“You better hold Clint doesn’t find out. He’s gonna kill you,” 
She didn’t mean it seriously. She just liked to see him flustered. It was adorable to hear him stutter and try to lie saying he doesn’t see you that way, he’s just a friend of Clint’s who admires the band. 
“Luna leave him alone. If Clint definitely knows... that’s why he’s here,” Dusk adjusts her ear piece backstage before it’s show time. The team would be here to see this one so he’d have to go out soon to meet them and take them to the front to the VIP rows.
“What’s that supposed to mean?,” He was always confused and could never read between the lines. You have given subliminal hints the entire starting from the night you met him but he still hasn’t gotten it. 
Tonight would change that.
“Piet, they’re here. Head out front now,” Clint peeked his head out from your dressing room and noticed the way his pants were unbutton and his hair was a mess. God, he wishes that was him. 
It was no secret that before performance sex was a common ritual with you two, one time he heard it and had to go to the bathroom to situate himself.
“Pietro! you hear me?,”
“Uh,” he snaps back to the present and nods his head feverishly, “Yeah, yeah,”
He rushed to meet everyone. Wanda clearly took a page from your book and used you as inspiration for her outfit. Everyone else looked kind of normal, save for Bucky who hard dark liner around his eyes and was wearing one of your band tees with the sleeves cut off, black pants and boots. He fit in with the crowd perfectly and didn’t give a damn if Sam made fun of him for it, he knew he looked good and Pietro had to admit such a truth.
“I’m so excited!,” Wanda spray dyed her hair black and had it in cute pigtails so as she jumped up and down the pigtails moved back and forth. She wore a cropped band tee with a skirt that was decorated with chains and a pair of ripped tights and a pair of tall platform boots, much like yours.
“You think if I crowd surf people are gonna keep me afloat?,”
“Tony, I think it’d be in everyone’s best interest if you don’t crowd surf,” Natasha shook her head and laughed as they followed Pietro into the arena.
“Well why not?,”
“Because I want to crowd surf. This crowd isn’t big enough for the both of us,”
“Oh but it is,” 
They went back and forth about who should be the one to get to crowd surf as if the arena wasn’t big enough for the both of them.
“I’m gonna head back, I’ll be back before the show starts,” 
Pietro books it backstage and sits in Luna’s dressing room knowing he would hear you and Clint perfectly. 
He could hear the slapping of your skin and the little whimpers you tried to hold back. God you sounded delicious. If only that were him making you feel good, or at least if only he got to sit in there and watch you get fucked before you went out on stage ans used all that good energy and put your all into your show like you always do.
“Right there, right there,”
He loved to hear you beg but he really just want you to make him beg. He wants to be the one making you feel good. He wants you to use him for your own pleasure. His wants were insatiable when it came to you. He you to want him, wanted you to make him your little play toy. But he was too nervous to do admit that.
He had confidence with the girls his age, but those girls are not you. You’re a woman, a goddess, so it made sense that you made him feel so small and he loved it.
“That’s my girl, cum for me,”
If only Pietro could jerk off right now, so he sufficed with palming himself through his jeans. He couldn’t make noise or else the jig would be up. 
“Yes, yes, yes!,”
You sounded so breathless. He imagined how good you looked with your legs spread open on the table, breasts bouncing, mouth hung open because every sensitive spot his being hit. 
On the other side of the wall, Clint’s mouth was suckling on your nipples hungrily, growling every time you clenched around him. Your hands ran through his hair and you felt yourself about to cum all over again. 
“You feel so good, baby,” you kissed his cheek as you cum around him. He fills you to the hilt before cumming deep inside of you. 
While the act of fucking before a show would tire anyone else out, it always gave you more energy and made you feel like you could run a marathon.
Pietro on the other hand was pleading to himself for you guys to not be done already. He needed to hear more, he needed more. 
“No, no. nooo,” he whispered to himself.
“10 minutes til show time!,”
Pietro heard your manager yell down the hall. 
“Fuck” he sighed. He was so defeated and knew he wouldn’t be able to get there right now. So he thought horrible things to make his dick go down before heading out to the team to wait for you guys to come out on the stage and get everyone riled up.
“You look flushed,” Sam points at his face, “You okay,”
“Dandy,”
They all talked and waited around while time dwindled down before the show began. His nerves were getting the best of him and he wasn’t sure why. All he had to do was stand here and enjoy your music. Which he always did but tonight just felt different.
*Listen to Sexual Hallucination by In this Moment*
The smoke started to fill the stage and the Luna began playing on the keyboard and synth. Everyone immediately got quiet and payed attention,”
“Red lips, a sinister toongue,” 
The way you breathe, the way you whispered into the mic had Pietro whining. He just wanted one taste of you, just one taste and he would be fine. 
“(I'll taste you until I can't),”
No one expected Clint to come out on stage, so just imagined how their jaws dropped when his voice flooded through the speakers and and he slowly walked onto the stage.
“Our trip has just begun (I'll fly with you til the end) Psychotic voice (You are in my veins now) And there's no denying (There's no denying) As we both burst into flames”
It didn’t take long for everyone to begin singing along.
The way you had your back up against Clint’s chest and moved your hips to the flow of the song had Pietro’s mouth watering and this was only the first song of the damn set. How was he gonna make it through the set? How was he gonna make it through another four months?
“You watch me come undone (It makes me want you more) I'm crawling into the unknown (I'll follow you to the core) I feel like I'm dying (I'm right beside you) You whisper, "we're flying" (There's no denying) We both converge as one”
Pietro couldn’t even sing along, he could only stand there and enjoy the sight of you. You noticed him though. Often times throughout the song you’d make eye contact with him and you could see his eyes flutter. 
Tonight he made the decision that he couldn’t keep these yearnings to himself anymore, he had to say something. 
Tonight you made the decision to turn him out. You couldn’t take him being oblivious anymore.
You wanted him and he needed you.
--------
Bucky found himself in a mosh pit and got a bloody nose, Steve and Bruce took their shirts off and threw it on stage, Natasha and Tony both got their turns to crowd surf. Sam met a pretty little lady and went somewhere with her, Wanda lost her voice from screaming along with you and her eyeliner smudged. But Pietro was just standing there thinking about how he could tell you he wants to sleep with you without Clint beating his ass.
“We can’t thank you all enough for coming out tonight and supporting us and having fun,”
It was the end and you were sweating bullets, pacing the stage and talking to the crowd before it was time to leave.
“We can’t thank you all enough for making the dreams of three black women come true. Especially in a white male dominated genre. Had you told us when we were four. five years old that we’d be famous, we probably wouldn’t believe you because it seemed so impossible but here we are.. and it seems so surreal,”
You smiled at the screams from the crowd while Dusk and Luna said their piece and you all waved to the crowd before heading backstage where your crew and manager all congratulated you on another smooth show.
“Babe, that was amaziing!!,” Clint lifted you into the air and twirled you around before you wrapped your legs around his waist and kisses him. He hugged you tight despite you being sweaty and gross.
“Thank you! You did great out there. I bet they’re gonna ask for more collaborations with us,”
“And that’s something I’d be willing to do,” 
Striking the stage took forever and packing up took even longer. The ride back to the hotel wasn’t that bad though and his team members met you all there where you all cleaned up and relaxed.
“They didn’t have music like that when I was growing up. It was so invigorating!,” Steve talked like a kid who just met their favorite superhero. 
“I gotta ask-,’ Tony pipes up
“Uh oh”, “Oh no”, “Maybe you shouldn’t” was heard all around the room and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Shoot,”
“It’s not that bad,” He rolled his eyes, “What’s the significance behind your band name? and why the change?,”
The question was valid, you’re surprised no one asked you the question sooner. 
“Hex Girls was like the baby and babies grow,” Luna smiled as she scooted closer to Bucky. She’d had her eyes on him for a while now and he seemed to be feeding into it, “It’s like Pokemon evolution. You start off small and cute until you evolve into something bigger and more badass with a larger impact,”
Tony nods in understand but looks as if he has more to ask, “What does Call of the Void mean though?
You take a sip of your wine and think of a way to explain it to him. 
“You know how when you’re on top of a building and just feel like jumping but without any protective gear? You know how sometimes you’re driving and just feeling swerving into the other lane? or when you’re blending something and feel like putting your hand in the blender to see what would happen even though you already know how it would end?,”
“Yeah.. but I don’t do that,” 
“Exactly,” you nod, “It comes from the french phrase ‘l’appel du vide’ which translates to call of the void,” 
Everyone else is still looking as if they don’t understand so Dusk takes it upon herself to explain further.
“Call of the Void is where you have self-destructive thoughts even though you’d never actually do them. It’s a sort of miscommunication in the brain. It’s really your brain kind of sending a warning signal like ‘be careful’ and it makes you take a step back or snap back into reality so you take notice of your surroundings,”
You point at her as a way to confirm her statement, “Now call of the void can be classified as suicidal thoughts but it’s honestly a phenomenon. People who experience this phenomenon aren’t necessarily suicidal rather, the experience of high place phenomenon may reflect their sensitivity to internal cues and actually affirm their will to live,”
You hear ouuu’s and aaahhh’s around the room before a clap of hands. 
“Okay well we got an early flight to catch so I say it’s about time we turn in for the night,” Steve says to everyone.
They all agree and say goodnight while leaving and you notice Luna and Bucky leaving together and going to her room. You shake your head at the two until you see Pietro get up
“Where do you think you’re going?,” you ask.
He turned around and noticed how beautiful you look with a bare face and your hair tied up in a wild bundle of colorful braids.
“I- I was..”
“Sit down and stay a while. We have a lot to talk about,” you pat the spot beside you and laugh at the way he takes slow steps towards you and sits down.
“Is everything okay?,” 
“You seemed really tense tonight,” 
Clint sat back and rubbed your legs that stretched across his lap.
“Did you not enjoy the show?,”
“N-no I did-,”
“I mean the other show, Piet,”
His breath hitches and his eyes get buggy. He knew exactly what you were talking about and he wondered how the hell you knew!
“I didn’t mean to-,”
You skin felt so good on his when your fingers ran down his cheek while shushing him.
“We wanted you to hear. Don’t be shy. I know you’ve been getting frustrated,” You sat up straight and scooted closer, “You had to have known why I invited you on tour with us... or are you just that oblivious?,”
“I’m just that oblivious,” he whispered.
Your hands ran through his hair and and tugged at the roots causing him to let out a breathy moan. He sounded beautiful.
“Clint, baby. Give us some space, will ya?,”
He grunted as a yes and kissed you before leaving for the bedroom, “Don’t worry, man. You have my blessing,”
That made Pietro calm down instantly. Once you heard the bedroom door shut, you straddled Pietro’s lap and ran your hands all over his body. 
“I like it when you look at me like you need me,” you nip on his earlobe and he lets out an unintentional whine which went straight to your core. You loved it when they sounded helpless.
“Because I do?,”
You pouted a small smile and gripped his cheeks in your hand, “You think you can take it?,” 
His breath shuttered and he blinked really fast, trying to comprehend that you were really sitting in his lap
“No but... I need you. I’ve been wanting you for so long I just-,”
He was taken aback when you kissed him with such force it knocked the wind out of him. Your tongue pushed its way into his mouth and he was kissing you as if it was his last and only chance to do so. His hands landed on your thick thighs and he rutted up into you.
“I want you to lie back on this couch and eat my pussy while I sit on the pretty face. You hear me?,”
“Yes ma’am,” 
You stood up and pushed him down on the couch. You undressed yourself in a rush and climbed over top of his face. He was ready, mouth already open, tongue resting on his lip.
“Be a good toy and eat it,” You pulled him by his hair and he buried his tongue deep inside you, working you, handing kneading your ass while he made sure not to disappoint you.
“Fuck, that’s good. Yeah, give me more,”
Damn you tasted so good. He basked in your flavor. This is what he wanted, you smothering him in your pussy, chasing your high.
His slurping could be heard through the living room but he didn’t care. The sight of you above him, tugging at the metal bars that pierced your pretty brown nipples had his dick leaking precum. 
“That’s iiit. Make me cum,” you directed.
You thrust yourself into his mouth and hold his head there as you finally cum, “Take my sum like a good boy,” 
He happily slurped up every drop, he’d never been with anyone who got this wet. Strings of your cum on your pussy connected to his lips and he greedily licked them up.
“Take your dick out,” 
You stood up and got on your knees in front of the couch and made him sit up. Your mouth felt perfect on his mouth. You were like a sex goddess and he was having a hard time containing himself. You got so sloppy your spit was dripping down his balls. You gagged unapologetically and rolled his sac in your hand. 
“Fuck, fuck, you’re so good. That feels so good!,”
He braced himself against the couch and tried not to buck his hips up but his legs were shaking like crazy. 
You used your dripping spit as lubrication and swirled it around his pink puckered hole. This had him shook, but he didn’t know shook until  you pushed your finger in and his a spot in him that he didn’t even know he had.
“Oh.. God!,”
Your mouth didn’t let up and your finger was thrusting in him at a pace he couldn’t comprehend. His legs were hiked up he felt like a little bitch but that was fine because it was you making him the little bitch, this is what he wanted.
“I’m gonna cum,” His eyes were in the back of his head and his body trembled when you pulled away from him. You pulled your finger out of him and removed your mouth.
“You’re gonna fuck me until you can’t think straight, now. You hear me?,”
“Please. That’s all I want,”
He was so needy and responsive, you made a good choice picking this one.
You lied back on the couch with your legs wide open,rubbing your clit. He admired your pussy. You weren’t completely shaven but it wasn’t wild either, your pink clit stuck out from under it’s good, and your brown lips called out for him. 
“Get moving, Piet,”
“Yes, Ma’am,”
He aligned himself at your entrance and prayed he would prematurely bust. When he pushed in he whimpered to the point tears came to his eyes. 
You felt so good it was unreal. You loved with way his slim cock felt inside of you, was a different sensation from Clint’s thick uncut cock. 
“Make me cum then you can get yours, baby,”
He braced himself on the arm of the couch and went wild. Your legs up on his shoulders and encouraging and praising him. He felt invincible. He was fucking a rock star, better yet, the rock star he’d been fanboying over for so long. 
He made sure to hit deep, knowing that’s how you like it from hearing you with Clint.
You pulled him down for a kiss and bit his bottom lip, making him groan in your mouth, “You’re doing so good fucking me like this, I’m so close,” 
He loved being at your disposal. He lost it when you started fucking him back and clawing at his shoulders. His momentum picked up because he was so close. His hips became a blur as the skin slapping filled the room.
“Yes, yes, yeeess! Make me cum,” you pushed him back and rode him into the sunset. He could barely catch his breath as he felt your pussy hug him in tighter while you began cumming. He’d never been with a women who could squirt, so you could imagine the hungry look on his face when it started happening, all because of him. He bucked his hips up harder to make you squirt harder and he felt his balls twitch with an impending orgasm.
“I’m gonna cum, can I cum? Please let me cum,”
You sat up off of him and used your hand to get him there. He was a squirming, mewling mess, and turned red when white ropes of cum shot up into the air and landed on his stomach. He covered his face and you giggled, knowing he just blew the biggest load he’s ever blown.
“Good boy,” You trail kisses on his chest and lick up the mess he made of himself. You shush him and massage his body until he’s calm and breathing evenly. He kept thanking you over and over.
“I reckon it went well?,”
Clint comes back with snacks and smiles a the post sex mess you two are. 
“Yeah... I definitely plan on keeping him,”
~~~~~~~~~
THIS. IS. MY. LONGEST. FIC. YET?! HOLY COW!!
It feels nice to finally get a fic out after not being able to for the past month. So here’s my treat to y’all. Thank you for being so understanding, lovely and patient. I love you all so much!
PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG!
Tags- @blackreaders-assemble @vozit @yournonlocalpoc @babybubastis @mbaku-babygirl @dumbchick @marvclheaux @noire-griot @warmchick @m00nlightdelights @retroxvailles @spideys-wife @xye-weirdo @micki-smiles @veryhellshdia @never-enough-time-for-sleep @here-for-your-bullshit @valynsia @valkyriesnymph @honeynmlk @chonisberonica @valentinevirgo @mokacoconut @crawlingnightmares
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neonlights92 · 5 years
Text
Oh My!
Welcome to Bangtan University.  They say your twenties is when you really find yourself.  And these kids are only just getting started….
Yoongi has spent a long time perfecting his music. He’s determined to be the best, no matter what it takes. Serious and brooding, most people at Bangtan University are kind of intimidated by him. But not you. You aren’t afraid of his sharp tongue or his narrow gaze. And you’ve made it your own personal mission to crack the impenetrable ice around his heart, no matter the cost.
A/N: Hey guys I’m back from a ridiculously long hiatus... Lots of stuff has happened.  But I’m hoping you guys enjoy the first installment in my Bangtan University universe.  Yoongi’s story! Jin will be next :) Please let me know what you think!
Warnings : Language and light smut
Genre: College Au.. roommates/friends to lovers au.  Fluffy and some angst... be prepared!
SEPTEMBER 
You meet Min Yoongi, your brand new roommate, on the very first day of your sophomore year at Bangtan University. 
He’s stunningly gorgeous (of course) and you’ve heard the rumours about him and his friends (they are, as your best friend Jisoo insists, seven of the most attractive men on campus) but you’ve never had the pleasure of a conversation with him.
He studies music tech (a quick browse of his instagram had confirmed that) and he’s incredibly good-looking.
That’s about all you know about him at this point.
“I’m Yoongi.” He tells you as he sweeps through the front door of your shitty two bedroom apartment, “You’re Y/N, right?” You have to admit, you’ve never been very good with words.  Or with boys.
So you clear your throat decidedly unattractively and nod quickly, “Yeah that’s me.  Yep.  Y/N.” “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” 
You’ve heard stories of his coldness.  Of the impenetrable ice that surrounds Min Yoongi.
And yet standing here, in the middle of your shared living room, with a box of things that has the words Yoongi’s Stuff scribbled crudely across the front, you have to say he’s not all that scary.
“Nice to meet you too.”
He sends you a quick smile and then disappears into his bedroom after that, and you find your heart still beating a mile a minute when you settle in for bed that evening.
Jesus. 
One smile from an attractive boy and you’re reduced to this? Pathetic.
But the worst is still yet to come.
//
OCTOBER
“Min Yoongi!” The handsome boy with the impenetrable gaze groans when he hears you calling his name.
“Fuck.  What is it now, Y/N?”
It has been just over a  month of sharing the same apartment.  A month of bathroom schedules, and slamming the seat down passive aggressively whenever he forgets to put it back.
A whole month of finding yourself more and more attracted to the most intimidating man you’ve ever met.
And yet…
“How many times have I told you,” You hold up the pair of boxer briefs he has so kindly forgotten to place in the laundry basket, “Not to leave your dirty clothes lying around.  Especially not your underwear.” You’d blushed when you first spotted the pair of briefs after the shortest shower known to mankind.  That underwear had been wrapped snugly around his toned waist.  Oh how you wished you could catch more than just a glimpse of the milky white skin that hid just under his black t-shirts.
“Not to mention, I didn’t have time to wash the conditioner out of my hair because the water ran cold halfway through my shower!” You shake your head angrily, “I thought we agreed no longer than five minutes in there.” Yoongi quirks a dark brow at you.  As usual, he seems unperturbed by your reaction to his behaviour, and leans back in his desk chair.  His headphones, so chunky and a little awkward looking, are wrapped around his neck.
“Y/N.  I’m working on my final project.  I’m a senior, in case you forgot.  This is kind of important.”  As if to emphasize his point, he gestures towards the midi-keyboard and laptop he was working on just before you stormed in on him.
“I don’t care.” Suddenly you are painfully aware of the fact that you are in a fucking towel.  You’re dripping wet, and you’re stood in the middle of Min Yoongi’s room, with nothing but a raggedy towel to stop him from seeing you naked.
“Maybe we should have this conversation when you’ve got some clothes on.” The coolness in his tone bothers you.
Yoongi never seems bothered by anything you do, and all this does is fluster you further.  You scoff.
“I will put clothes on whenever I damn well please.” You have to physically stop yourself from cringing at your words.  Why would you say something so fucking stupid?
“As you wish.”
He slips his headphones back on, and turns back to his computer, without so much as an apology.  You groan.
You’re angry at him, of course, for his blaise behaviour.
But you’re angry at yourself, too, for the way you feel about him.
Min Yoongi is the most complicated man you’ve ever met.  He’s so handsome, and you’ve heard multiple girls on campus talk about all the naughty things they’d want him to do to them.
But Yoongi is basically unattainable.
He’s been at this university for more than two years now, and hasn’t dated a single girl since then (according to the information Jisoo had gathered) and that wasn’t going to change just because you walked into his life.
You are aware of this.  Have been aware of this since you met him a month ago.
Yoongi is impenetrable.  He has walls protecting his walls.
You’ve seen moments of tenderness from him.  Specifically when it comes to his mother, who he calls every night before bed.
And you know he cares, in his own special way.  But he’s cold.  And he’s standoffish.
Yet you’re determined.
“Fuck you Yoongi,” You reply, with not much anger in your voice.  You whip away from him and move into your bedroom, slamming the door shut, and leaning against its surface.
As always, he leaves you with a fluttering pulse, and a need to kiss him.
You bite back this urge, and take a deep breath, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat. 
You almost hate the power he has over you. 
Almost.  But not quite.
//
NOVEMBER
The first time you witness true vulnerability from Min Yoongi, it absolutely takes your breath away.
It’s been a few weeks since the shower incident, and like with most disagreements between the two of you, it has been long forgotten.  
After a particularly long afternoon in the library studying for an exam at the end of the week you’re almost certain you’re going to fail, you roll into your living room to find Yoongi, sat on the sofa, with a tiny little ball of fur clasped between his hands.
He looks up at you as the door clicks closed, and his mouth quirks up slightly on one side.
“Don’t get mad.” Your eyes zero in on the little kitten dozing on his knees.
“Is that a cat?” You ask the question, even though you already know the answer.
Yoongi winces, as though he knows you’re going to get mad at him, and nods, “Yeah.  I uh I found her in the gutters outside university.  I think her mum abandoned her.  She’s look like the runt of the litter.”
You stare at him, sat in the soft glow of the television, his hair pushed back and his legs folded beneath him, his long fingers sifting through the white fur of the little kitten sat so carefully between his legs. 
You wait a long moment, soaking everything in.
“What her name?”
He seems to release a breath of tension he wasn’t even aware he’d been holding.
“Peaches.”
You come to sit beside him, your heart filling with affection for the boy sat beside you, and the kitten in his arms.
“Peaches,” You laugh slightly, “That’s a sweet name.  We’re going to have to keep her a secret from the landlord.  You know we’re not allowed pets.”
The sides of Yoongi’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, “I can keep her?” “Sure.  She’s adorable.  I could never kick something so sweet out onto the street to fend for herself.” 
You can’t help the way your heart swells at the earnest look in his eyes, “We should get her a litter box and a bed to sleep in.  And maybe some food and water bowls?”
Yoongi smiles at you carefully, “Yeah.  Thanks Y/N.” “You’ve got nothing to thank me for.”  You tell him, moving your eyes away from him, scared he’ll be able to easily read the desperation you have for him.
That evening you make him some pasta, and the two of you bond over your love of animals.  Yoongi tells you about his first pet; a rabbit called Spike, and you listen intently as the boy with all his walls up lets you in just that tiny bit more.
Maybe all hope is not lost.
//
DECEMBER
It’s two weeks before Christmas break when you spot the little winter market a few streets down from your apartment.  When you arrive home from university later on that day and shrug off your jacket, Yoongi is sat in the kitchen, baking the double chocolate fudge brownies you made him for his birthday last month.
“There’s a market in town.  Just on Borough street.”
Yoongi looks up at you and you have to giggle at the fact he has chocolate smudged across his forehead. 
He rolls his eyes, “I’ve got food on my face, right?” You nod and come towards him, using the back of your finger to swipe away the remnants.  Your heart speeds up at the warmth of his skin, and you have to remind yourself that this domesticity is strictly platonic.
“Did you want to uh - go.  To the market, I mean.”
Yoongi is still staring at you, and you feel your cheeks flush, “We don’t have to I just thought it might be something fun to do.  You could invite your friends too.” “No that sounds great.”  He nods and turns back to the task at hand, “They’ve got a ferris wheel, right?” “Of course they do.  Haven’t you seen it?  Jeez, you never leave the apartment.”
“Don’t judge me,” He throws over his shoulder, just as Peaches climbs up onto the counter and moves towards him.
“She’s spoilt you know,” You gesture at the kitten, “You let her get away with murder.” He turns his head and smiles warmly, “Could you say no to this face?” You laugh at the way she leans into his hand, and he lets her lick some of the dark chocolate off the spoon he’s using to mix the ingredients.
The sight is enough to melt your heart into a puddle of stupidity.
You hate yourself for it, but you care about him so much, and you can’t help it.
“So seeing as you’re sorting out the dessert, shall I order some take out?” You say it as quickly as you can to try and distract yourself from the way Yoongi is cuddling with Peaches.
He smiles, “That sounds great  Golden Dragon?” “Golden dragon.”
God. 
You really like this stupid man. 
--
“That ferris wheel is huge.” 
You laugh as Jisoo stares at the lights, eyes widened in awe. 
The Christmas market is just as pretty as you expected, and Jisoo seems to be enjoying herself as well.
Yoongi passes you a cup of hot apple cider, and you smile, “Thanks.” 
The snow from yesterday morning is only just starting to melt so the hot drink warms your belly and cheeks in a way that makes you sigh contentedly.
“Do you want to ride it?” Jungkook - the youngest of Yoongi’s friends - cocks his head towards the ferris wheel, and Jisoo smiles widely.
“Oh my god yes.  Let’s do it.” 
“Awesome.  C’mon!” 
The two of them scurry off, and you feel something warm prickle in the pit of your stomach.  When you’d mentioned this outing to Jisoo, she’d jumped at the opportunity, excited at the prospect of hanging out with other people.
You know that she probably secretly wishes the two of you had other friends, but the truth is you never really needed anyone but her.  Jisoo has been your best friend since childhood, and when you both decided to go to the same university, you felt like it had been fate. 
“This was a great idea, Y/N,” Namjoon pipes up, stuffing his gloved hands in the pockets of his jeans, “Even if it is sub zero temperature.” 
You like Namjoon.  He’s smart and funny, and his eyes are the colour of warm chocolate brown.  He’s a gifted songwriter and producer too, as Yoongi has told you on many an occasion.  “Oh stop complaining,” Jimin elbows his friend good-naturedly.  The first time you met Jimin you remember thinking how absolutely stunning he was.  His smile is brighter than the sun, and you are pretty certain he’d broken more than a few hearts in his time. 
But Yoongi told you that Jimin didn’t date.  It is a cardinal rule for him; unbreakable.  You assume there’s more to the story than you’re being told, but don’t want to pry. 
“I’ve told you guys a million times, we should just spend winter break in my parents' beach house in Australia,” Jin rolls his eyes at Namjoon’s complaining, “It’s summer over there at the moment.” 
“When I win the lottery, then we’ll go.  Until then, I’m afraid we’ve got to suffer through the cold,” Taehyung pulls a face at Jin’s suggestion before snapping a candid photograph of his friends. 
Jin - ever over dramatic - immediately starts complaining about needing a little more warning than the flash of Taehyung’s camera, as Jimin grabs Namjoon and wanders off to try and find some cotton candy.
Hoseok - the brightest of Yoongi’s friends - rolls his eyes at you, and shoves Jin on the shoulder playfully, “C’mon, I want to go try out the shooting games.”
“Alright but tell Jin to stop being a baby every time I take his picture,” Taehyung teases, and you stifle a laugh at the almost macabre way in which Jin gasps at his friend’s comment.
“Are you insinuating that I am immature?” He clicks his tongue, “Yah! That’s rich coming from you Taehyung, you don’t even know how to iron your own clothes!”
Hoseok pushes his friends further down the street, towards the games and vendors, as Taehyung snaps yet another photo of Jin complaining.
This time you laugh out loud and Yoongi joins you.
The truth is, you like Yoongi’s friends.  You feel at home when you’re with them, and it’s just another example of how you fit perfectly in Yoongi’s life. 
“God Jin is actually the most annoying creature on the planet,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice to it, “And Taehyung knows how to push every one of his buttons.” You giggle, “They’re funny together.  I really do like your friends.”
“Yeah.  Me too.”
You realise the two of you are alone, and something in your gut tells you they did this on purpose.
“Do you want to ride anything?” 
Your mouth goes dry at the suggestion.  
“Uh… Sure.  You said you like ferris wheels, right?” You turn towards the huge moving wheel, “Besides, you can see the whole city from the top.  I reckon that would be pretty.” 
“Sure.  Let’s go.”  
You follow him towards the ride, and feel your heart thumping distractedly in your chest.  There really is something about this boy that makes you feel almost juvenile.  Every single thing he does seems to affect you in ways that you would normally be embarrassed of, and yet you can’t bring yourself to care. 
“When I was a kid, there used to be this carnival that would come to our city for a couple of weeks at the end of every summer,” He tells you, as the two of you join the back of the line of people waiting for their turn, “And my mom used to take me whenever it came to town.  She hated all the bigger rides, but she loved the ferris wheel.”
You smile at the memory, feeling special that Yoongi would choose to share something so personal with you.
“You love her a lot, right?  Your mom, I mean?”
He nods, pulling on the beanie covering his hair, “She’s my best friend.  I’ve always been quiet and reserved - never with her though.  I don’t know what I would do without her.”
“It’s adorable,” You bite your bottom lip and laugh a little when he gives you a look, “I mean it.  Not a lot of guys your age would admit to being a mama’s boy.  I like that you do.” 
“I mean it’s not exactly information I go spreading around,” You reach the front of the queue, and buy your tickets, “So keep it to yourself, alright?  I need to keep up appearances.” 
You smile at the teasing lilt to his voice and clear your throat.
“Oh I don’t know… I reckon your many admirers would love to know about your big, soft heart.”  
You slide into one of the cars, and feel your fingertips tingle and Yoongi takes a seat beside you, the attendant locking the door and instructing you not to open it under any circumstances. 
“My admirers?” He scoffs as the attendant moves to the next car, “Don’t be stupid.”
Your eyes widen, “I’m not.  You’ve got to be kidding me, Yoongi.  Surely you are aware that girls follow you around like lost puppies?”
He shakes his head and licks his bottom lip, “Yeah because they think I’m some mysterious bad boy.  They don’t know me.  It’s bullshit.”
“Aha but you do admit you have admirers!” You insist, nudging him in the shoulder playfully, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  All of you guys are popular.” 
“I’m not ashamed,” He grumbles, as the ferris wheel starts to move towards the darkening sky, “It’s just boring.  I don’t really care for it.”
There is a long beat of silence as the ferris wheels moves to it’s highest point, and you gasp slightly when your eyes scan the horizon in front of you.  It’s beautiful.  Lights twinkling, and trees reaching up into the sky.  You can see the humans moving around like little ants - all involved in their own little stories.  
“The view is beautiful,” You whisper, pressing your face against the cage of the window to try and breathe in the crisp air, “I knew it would be worth it.” When you turn to Yoongi to assess his reaction, your surprised to see he’s not looking at the view, but at you. 
His eyes are dark and intense, and for a moment you wonder if he might kiss you.  It’s a stupid thought, of course, but his gaze flickers to your lips and in a moment of weakness you hope for something you know you can never have. 
“Yeah.  Beautiful.” 
The words are quiet and you feel his warm breath on your cheeks. 
It feels like this moment is suspended between the two of you.  Like any sudden movement might crack this spell you’re under.  Your heart is thundering in your chest, and you feel like you might pass out. 
After what feels like an eternity, the ferris wheel starts to move again, and Yoongi’s eyes whip away from your own.  You feel like you can breath again as you turn your face towards the window, wondering what in the hell just happened. 
The rest of the evening is spent laughing and eating, but you never quite calm down the frantic movement of your heart.  Because somewhere, in the pit of your stomach, a seed of hope has started to grow.
And perhaps that’s the moment everything becomes dangerous.
//
JANUARY
The weeks of Christmas break are spent missing Yoongi.
He texts you on Christmas morning to wish you happy holidays, and you spend the whole day warm from his greetings.
You wonder if something’s shifted in him - if maybe he’s starting to see you the way you so desperately want him to see you - so when you get back from the holidays and he introduces you to his new girlfriend, it stings like a bitch.
Her name is Yeri, and she’s absolutely stunning (though a little dense, if he asks you.  Which he doesn’t) but she’s nice and you have to force yourself to be polite to her despite the fact your heart feels like it’s cracked right down the middle.
It’s on a Saturday night when the two of you have consumed an entire Golden Dragon takeout and two bottles of wine, that the question slips out of you without your consent.
“You don’t actually like Yeri, do you?” Yoongi cocks an eyebrow at your question, “Excuse me?” “Well.”  You can feel the comforting buzz of alcohol blanketing your decision making, “She’s not exactly your type.” “And what is my type, pray tell?” “Someone with an IQ above that of a peanut.” The comment is harsh and you feel guilty (it isn’t Yeri’s fault that you like a man who will never like you back) but Yoongi scoffs a laugh regardless.
“She’s a bit of fun I suppose.” “I mean isn’t that kind of shitty?  What if she really likes you?  She’s your girlfriend.” He shrugs, “She’s not really my girlfriend.” “That’s what you introduced her as.” “Because it’s easier than introducing her as the girl I occasionally sleep with,” He shakes his head, “Why do you care, anyway?” “I don’t.”  You feel the ugly crawl of defense up the length of your spine, “I’m just curious.  We’ve been living together for a while now and you don’t date.  And then you come back from Christmas break, and you have a girlfriend.  I was interested, forgive me.”
Yoongi’s dark eyes glitter with something you can’t quite place, “I told you.  I’m too busy to date.” You feel like there might be a double edged sword to his words.  Like he’s trying to tell you something about the way you might wish things were between you.
“Yeah.  I know.” “Do you know what they call me at uni?” Peaches has jumped onto his lap and he plays with the fur on her head, “The Vortex.” You pretend not to have heard of the nickname.  But of course, you have.
Try as he might to fade into the background, Yoongi and his friends are well known around Bangtan.  And Yoongi is known for his apparently cold demeanor.
“Who cares?  Half the people at this college are fucking stupid.  You’re just complicated.  I like that about you,” You grab a prawn cracker and at the sound of the crunch, Peaches’s right ear sticks up.
“Traitor.”  Yoongi mutters as the kitten makes her way towards you. Then he looks up and smiles, “Thanks for that Y/N.” The comment takes you by surprise.  You feel like your heart might burst.
“It’s alright,” You try to shrug casually, “I’m only telling the truth.” As Peaches crawls onto your outstretched legs, Yoongi clicks his tongue.
“Anyway.  I ended things with Yeri.  Or well, I guess she ended things with me.  Things between her and that Baekhyun guy from her chem class were getting serious, it seems.  So I’m a free agent again.” He lets that whole thing out in one single breath, as if he’s been waiting for the right moment to say it.  You try not to let what he’s just said affect your current facial position.
“Probably for the best.” He smiles again, and you can’t help but think that you want to marry that smile.
“Yeah.  Definitely for the best.”
It is in that moment that you realise, with startling clarity, that you may very well be in love with this boy.
SHIT.
FEBRUARY
Valentine’s day has always been painful for you.
Growing up shy and relatively plain-looking, you were never really celebrated by members of the opposite sex.  And instead, were forced by Jisoo to attend parties, despite the fact you’d never received even a single Valentine’s card in your entire life.
You decide to spend the day curled up in bed (thank God it’s a Saturday) eating away at a stupidly expensive box of truffles you’d bought yourself on a (self-piteous) whim.
Peaches has decided to set up camp on the fluffy white pillow next to your head, and you’re not sure where her body ends and the material of the pillow begins.
You’re halfway through Pretty Woman when there’s a knock at your bedroom door.
“Come in,” You croak, expecting Jisoo (who’d promised that morning to come and visit you on your least favourite day of the year) and instead watching as the door opens to reveal a disheveled Yoongi.
He stands before you, warm and smiling, and you feel your heart throb uncomfortable in your chest.
“What are you doing, Y/N?” There’s a laugh in his voice, and you’d hate him for it if he didn’t look so good smiling.
 “I hate Valentine’s day,” You deadpan, not even caring that you probably look a mess, “As you can tell.  I guess I’m feeling sorry for myself.”
“This is pathetic.” He tells you and you huff angrily.
“I know.” He moves towards you and sits on the edge of your bed.  Peaches lifts her head and perks up at the sight of Yoongi.  
“She prefers you to me.” You grumble, “Even animals don’t like me.”
Yoongi chuckles, “Stop it.  What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m feeling self-deprecating.  Get out whilst you can Yoongi, you won’t enjoy my company today.”
He cocks his head to the side, “Why do you hate Valentine’s day so much?  It’s not that bad.” You’re surprised.  
Considering the apathy Yoongi seems to constantly cloak himself in when it comes to romance, you would assume he hates Valentine’s day almost as much as you do.
“Are you serious?” He raises a brow, “What?” “It’s not that bad?” You groan loudly, “It’s disgusting.  Happy couples parading their love around for all of us single people to feel terrible about ourselves?  And don’t forget the bigger the bouquet the more your boyfriend loves you, apparently.  Bleh.  Consumerism at its finest.”
“So you’re telling me you’ve never celebrated the holiday?” He’s got you there.  Yoongi smiles, seemingly pleased with your reaction.
“You only hate it because you’re single then,” He laughs, “Doesn’t count.”
You want to be angry at him, but the truth is he’s probably right.  You don’t think on his words too long.
“Leave me alone,” You grumble, pulling your duvet cover over your head.
“Hey c’mon.” You can still hear the laugh in his voice, “Would it help if I showed you one of my songs?”
A beat of silence.  You shoot up from underneath the covers, watching Yoongi carefully.
The two of you have lived together for nearly six months now, and though he’s always working on something new, he’s never actually offered to show you anything before.  Despite yourself (and the fact that you’re very aware that this is in no way a gesture of romance, no matter how badly you wish it was) you nod vigorously.
“Yes!  I would love to hear one of your songs.” Yoongi’s eyes move into crescent moons as he smiles wider, and you wonder how your heart can take all of this abuse. 
“Come on then,” He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you out of bed, “This way.”
You follow Yoongi into his bedroom, heart thudding in your ears as he sits you down at his desk. 
“Here,” He grabs the huge, bulky headphones that you always make fun of him for wearing, and places them on your head, “Listen to this.” 
In a moment, your transported to a beach somewhere in the south of Spain, as Yoongi’s music feels your ears and warms your heart.  There is something almost magical to the way the beats develop into a melody that seems to niggle all the way down to the pit of your stomach.
You’re aware you’re probably over-reacting, but you don’t care. 
Min Yoongi is letting you listen to something he’s created, and that warms your heart beyond compare.  When the song is over, and you take the headphones off, you turn to face him and Yoongi is smiling softly at you.
“So,” He says after a moment, “What did you think?” “That was amazing.  Truly.  Shit, Yoongi, no wonder you spend all your time working on music.  You’re fucking talented.” You’ve never seen him blush before, so when the crimson red appears on his cheeks, your blindsided.  It’s moments like these that cause you to fall even harder for the boy in front of you; the boy you’re so very aware you can probably never have. 
“Does that mean you’re not as grumpy, anymore?” His voice has a teasing edge to it, and despite yourself, you laugh. 
“I mean, what kind of psychopath enjoys being single on Valentine’s day?  Can you blame me?” 
Yoongi’s eyes are warm as he shakes his head, “It’s a stupid holiday.  People who celebrate it are dumb, sure.  But I guess…” 
You quirk your head to the side, “What?”
He bites his lip and tugs a hand through his freshly dyed hair.  It’s jet black, your favourite colour on him. 
“I guess it’s kind of nice that there’s a day where we celebrate love,” He shrugs, “I don’t know.”
Something in your chest tightens.  
“Yeah.” You nod after a beat, “I guess you’re right.” 
There is something deep and intense in Yoongi’s eyes, and you wish with all your might that you could just reach inside and pull all of his feelings out.  That he wouldn’t hold his cards so close to his chest, all the freaking time. 
“Besides,” He adds after a moment, “It’s my mom’s favourite holiday.  So I’ve got a soft spot for it.”  
Your heart trips over at the sincerity in his voice.  Yoongi rarely ever talks about his mother, but you know how much he loves her.  You smile.
“That’s sweet.” 
Once again, the breath is knocked out of your chest, as you realise the gravity of your feelings for this man. 
And things are only about to get a lot more complicated.
//
MARCH
The week before your birthday, Jisoo announces that the two of you are going clubbing.
You tell her you don’t want to go, of course, but she doesn’t take no for an answer.  Instead, she forces you to agree, and asks for Yoongi and all of his friend's numbers, so she can organise a VIP table. 
“It’s your twenty-first,” She tells you solemnly, “We’re going clubbing.”
You can’t really tell her no, and despite the knowledge that you don’t enjoy drinking or clubbing, she insists, and there’s not much you can do to stop it.  Yoongi and all of his friends have agreed on coming, and on the evening of the ‘special night’ you find yourself letting Jisoo squeeze you into one of her ridiculously short dresses. 
“You look hot.  Maybe you’ll get some action tonight,” She tells you when the two of you slide into the back of the cab. 
You don’t reply, rolling your eyes. 
The truth is, despite how uncomfortable you may feel, you want Yoongi to find you attractive in this dress.  Perhaps that’s the whole reason you agreed to wear it in the first place, and maybe you should be embarrassed of that.
You try not to think about it too much, as you arrive at the club, fully expecting to be the first ones there, and instead being greeted by seven men in chinos and loafers.  
“Y/N!” Taehyung already seems to be drunk as he pulls you towards you VIP table and offers you a beer, “Happy birthday!” 
“Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday to you…” Hoseok hiccups his way through the first verse of the birthday song, and then waves his hand as if to push it away, “Forget it.  Happy fucking birthday Y/N!!” 
Jimin smirks, as he passes you a shot of soju and you wordlessly knock it back, “Impressive.”  
As always, your heart flutters when you make eye contact with Yoongi.  His face is an impassive mask, and you wish for once, he would just tell you what he thought.
You bite your bottom lip, “Hi.” “Hey,” He smiles gently, “Happy birthday.”  After a moment he nods, “Nice dress.” “Oh,” You flush despite yourself, “Uh… Thanks.  It’s Jisoo’s actually.  She made me wear it.” 
I wore it for you, you add silently, though you don’t have the courage to say it out loud. 
Yoongi chuckles, “It’s nice.”
“Nice is not the word I would use to describe that dress,” Taehyung slings an arm around Yoongi’s shoulder and winks at you, “Y/N looks hot and spicey.”
Your cheeks are flaming by now, and you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.  
“Shut up, Taehyung,” Yoongi groans, and you giggle at the exasperated look he gives his friend. 
Taehyung grumbles something about Yoongi needing to lighten up, and skids off to find another drink. 
“Sorry about him,” Yoongi says, shaking his head, “He’s drunk.”
“It’s alright.  He was trying to be nice.”  You pull on the hem of your dress and pat your over-styled hair down carefully, “I took it as a compliment.”
“I mean he’s right, I guess.  There’s just a way to say things.”
You feel something fizzle in your blood. 
Did Yoongi…. Just call you hot?  (By association, sure, but you don’t care.)
“I have something for you.  A birthday gift.”  He passes you a small box, “It’s not a big deal but uh… I saw it and thought of you.”
You stare at the wrapped present in your hands, incredibly touched by the gesture. 
“Can I open it now?” He nods, and you remove the wrapping carefully, revealing a small cardboard box.  When you open the box, your heart tightens in your chest, at the small locket placed right in the centre.  
“It’s got a picture of Peaches in it.”  You look up at Yoongi’s words and he shrugs, “If you don’t like it-” You feel like you might start crying, but you shake your head and swallow back the tears, “Don’t be stupid.  I love it.”  
He helps you put it on, and when your fingers touch, you feel something magnetic spark through you.  You try to ignore it. 
“Thank you Yoongi.”  You tell him smiling sincerely, “It’s perfect.” 
He reaches out and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, and for a moment, you feel like you might faint.  Smiling gently, he runs a hand across your jawline faintly as his hand moves away from your hair.
“Anything for you.”
And it’s really that moment, that you have to admit to yourself the truth:
Min Yoongi has become a part of your life that you’re not willing to let go. 
And you hope to God that things will work out.
//
APRIL
“You want me to do what?” You stare at him, uncomprehending.
“Just come with me to this stupid frat party, so all my friends will leave me alone.”  He frowns heavily at you when you seem confused by his sudden request.
Min Yoongi has just asked you to attend a party with him.
A party.
“Yoongi this is stupid.  Why don’t you ask one of the girls at university-”
“Because they’re annoying.” When you quirk a dubious brow he groans, “Please Y/N.  Seriously.”
Peaches is perched very delicately on the edge of the couch, and as you shift slightly she raises her head, ears twitching.
“And what?  You want me to pretend to be your… you girlfriend?” You sputter, completely shell-shocked.  Min fucking Yoongi is asking you to be his date.  Granted, you are aware it isn’t an actual date.  Still.
“No.  I mean… I guess?  I don’t know.  We can just say we’re having fun.” “Your friends know me, Yoongi.  They’ve met me like multiple times before…”
“So what?  They like you,” He shrugs and sits next to you on the couch, “Besides doesn’t that make this whole thing easier?  C’mon.  I’m so fucking tired of Namjoon trying to set me up with his fucking cousin from Busan-”
“Alright, fine.”  The thought of Yoongi going on a date with someone who isn’t you, sends a sharp tug across your chest.
Yoongi looks at you, surprised that you’d agreed so quickly.  But he recovers after a moment and smiles widely.
“You’re a fucking angel,” He answers, and you feel your heart burst to the brim with affection for the man sat beside you, “Thanks Y/N.”
“Just make sure I don’t regret this.”
But the threat holds no conviction. 
And you know nothing in the world could make you regret a date with Min Yoongi; fake or not.
--
The party is filled to the brim with drunk college kids. 
You aren’t sure what else you’d been expecting, really.  Yoongi slips his hand in yours as you pass the front hallway of the fraternity house you’re navigating.
When you throw him a questioning look he tells you it’s,  “all a part of the illusion.”
You try to remember that Yoongi isn’t holding your hand because he wants to - not really anyway - but that does nothing to calm your stuttering heart.  You hope against all hope that he won’t notice the ugly red blush staining your cheeks.
If he does, he is decent enough not to say anything about it.
When you reach the front room, Yoongi spots his friends huddled on a couch at the back of the room. 
“Here  goes nothing,” He tosses you a gentle smile and you smile back, feeling your heart squeeze unceremoniously in your chest.
Jesus.  You have it bad.
Yoongi leads you to the small group of attractive boys.
“Yoongi, Y/N!” Namjoon greets you as you reach them, and his eyes dip down to your interlocked fingers, “Oh my God.”  You notice the way his eyes are slightly hazy, and wonder how much alcohol he’s had to drink, “You guys finally did it huh?  Thank fuck.  Jin you owe me twenty bucks!” Yoongi raises a dark brow at his friends comment and Namjoon gestures between the two of you.
“We were betting on how long it would take Yoongi to get his head out of his fucking ass and finally ask you out.”  Namjoon smirks, “The boy’s been crazy about you since you guys moved in together.”
You feel your pulse race.
You know this is all an act - Yoongi just wants to get his friends off his back - but is Namjoon telling the truth? He can’t be, right?  
“Joon.  Shut the fuck up.” You turn quickly to look at Yoongi, but where you’ve been expecting him to be angry at his friend’s teasing, he just seems amused. 
Jin cuts his way towards you and gasps loudly.  
“Yes!  Oh God I’m so happy for the two of you.”
“Calm down Jin, Jesus,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, “We’re just having fun at the moment.  Stop scandalising everything.” “I can’t help it.  We’ve been waiting with baited breath for this moment.” Jungkook, interrupts Jin, “You’re going to freak Y/N out, dude.” “Don’t be absurd.  She’s fine,” He turns to you and quirks a brow, “You’re fine, right?” You clear your throat and swallow thickly, “Just peachy.” 
Jungkook throws you a sympathetic smile, before Taehyung steps through.  He’s holding a pack of cards and he smiles deviously.
“Who’s up for a little game of ring of fire?”
Everybody whistles their agreement, and you turn to Yoongi.
This is a bad idea, of course.  You hardly drink, and when you do it’s only ever beer or alcopops.  Ring of fire is infamous for its ability to absolutely wreck even the heaviest of drinkers. 
And yet….
You want to spend time with Yoongi.  
“The guys are tough with this game,” He tells you seriously, dark eyes questioning but not unkind, “Are you sure you want to do this?” You nod decisively.
“I’ll be fine.”
The last words of a fool.
You were certainly not fine.
An hour and a half later, and Hoseok and Jimin - the heaviest drinkers amongst Yoongi’s friends - have somehow convinced you that mixing vodka, rum and whiskey into the same drink, and then downing that drink will be absolutely fine because of course you picked the final King; which means you have to drink what’s in the King’s glass.
“C’mon you can do it,” Jimin has drunk maybe three times what you have, but he barely slurs as he passes you the plastic cup.
You smell the contents and feel your stomach curl.  This is a bad fucking idea and you know it.
“You don’t have to drink-”
Hoseok interrupts Yoongi, his dark eyes far too serious for a drinking game.
“Yes she does.  It’s the rules.”
Taehyung giggles, “I love it when Hobi gets bossy.”
You glare at Yoongi’s friends - your friends too, you suppose - and with a final, desperate look at Yoongi, bring the drink to your lips and as quickly as you can chug down the entire thing.
It tastes disgusting, and for a moment you’re worried you might vomit. 
“Shit.  She looks green,” That’s Namjoon, “Yoongi take her outside.” Your eyes are squeezed shut, but you feel a familiar warm hand resting on your shoulder and suddenly you’re being hoisted up.
“C’mere,” You feel Yoongi’s breath on your neck, and he pulls you towards him, “Lean on me Y/N.”
“You smell good,” You tell him after a moment, eyes blinking open sluggishly. 
He looks down at you and even though there’s three of him, you’re still taken aback by how positively beautiful he is.
“I’d love to say the same about you, but you did just chug the King’s glass.”
And that’s what really does it.  You’re lucky you’re outside, but just one mention of the concoction you’d been forced to drink, and suddenly everything that was once inside your stomach decides it’s time to vacate the premises immediately.
And that’s how you find yourself vomiting on the sidewalk, with a very concerned Yoongi pulling back your hair, and rubbing your back.
“Hey,” He soothes gently, “You’re okay.  Seriously.” Your body is racking unattractively, and just when you think things can’t get any worse, you start crying.
“I’ve ruined it,” You sob, legs wobbling from the force of the alcohol.
Yoongi clears his throat and helps you stand up straight, concerned eyes searching your face. 
“What?  Y/N it’s fine, you puked on the sidewalk.  Nobody cares.” You stare at him, and wipe at your mouth, completely disgusted with yourself.
“Not that.  This.”  You gesture between the two of you, your hand shaking from everything that’s just transpired, “Me and you.  Fuck, Yoongi I like you so much and I just puked everywhere.”
You’re drunk.  You’re so, so drunk.  And you’re slurring, and you feel like you might pass out at any second, but you can’t help yourself.
It all comes tumbling out.
His face is serious as he tucks his arm around your waist and pulls you towards him, “Let’s talk about this in the morning when you’re not puking the contents of your stomach out.  C’mon.  Let me take you home.”
And he does. 
He takes you home, and he feeds you water and he tucks you into bed and waits with you until you fall asleep.
God you love this man.
//
MAY
You and Yoongi never speak about that night again.  Things don’t change; in fact, they stay exactly the same. 
You worry of course, constantly, about what he really thinks. 
But you’d been expecting this, and in all honesty, things could have gotten a lot worse.  Yoongi never brings up what you said that night, and the morning after he told you there was nothing to worry about.
You know you told him about your feelings for him.  You remember, through the drunken haze, admitting that you liked him.  
So why had he avoided speaking about it? The only logical conclusion you could come up with, was that he didn’t feel the same way, and he didn’t want to embarrass you.
And so, you played along.  You pretended not to hear your heart cracking that morning when he brushed everything over with a wave of his hand, and everything had gone back to relative normativity. 
Except it hadn’t.
Not really, anyway.  
You are still pining after your roommate, except now it isn’t a secret. 
You try not to think about it too often; not to let it get in the way of your friendship with Yoongi, but there are times you can barely look him in the eye.  You convince yourself things will get better.
But today something changes.
Because when you get home after class that evening, there is a girl sat in your living room.
She is absolutely beautiful.
“Hi,” You’re stunned, to say the least, “What are you doing here?” 
The words escape your mouth before you really have the chance to process them.  You know the answer before you even ask the question, of course. 
“I’m Yoongi’s friend.” She smiles widely, “My names Jennie.” 
You recognise her.  Jennie Kim, from your economics class. 
She’s smart too, as far as you can remember, and for some reason that makes this whole thing worse.  You take a deep breath and bite back the tears building at the back of your throat. 
You thought after Yeri, you’d be able to deal with things like this. 
But not now.  Not after you’ve told Yoongi how you feel.
The cold sting of his rejection feels fresh once more, and you have to turn away from Jennie quickly, before you start crying. 
“I’m uh - I’m Y/N, Yoongi’s roommate.” You tell her quietly, willing the tears back down your throat.  You look up after a moment, “Nice to meet you Jennie.” “I know who you are,” She smiles, and for a moment you’re dazzled.  She really is beautiful, “We’re in the same economics class, with Patterson.” 
You nod, but can’t find it in you to reply with words.  You press your backpack tighter against you, trying to hold onto something, and make a beeline for your bedroom.
“Well Jennie, it was nice meeting you.”
You step into your bedroom and she nods.
“Nice to meet you too, Y/N.” You slam the door shut and muffle a cry.  Your heart feels like it’s been ripped out of your chest, and stomped on. 
Pressing your back against the door, you try to suppress the need to sob.  But nothing works.  There is an ache in your chest, and when you hear Yoongi’s voice, the pain intensifies. 
You know he doesn’t owe you anything.
He doesn’t owe you feelings, or a relationship.  He doesn’t even owe you an explanation.
But shit does it hurt to see him with someone else. 
You grab your phone after a moment, and pull up Jisoo’s number.
To Jisoo: he’s got a new gf...i need to get out of here 
It’s only a few moments before your receive a reply.
From Jisoo: i’ll be there in 10 
--
“So spill.”
You’re sitting opposite Jisoo, at a late night diner, sharing a stack of slightly burnt pancakes.  Her eyes narrow at the way tears have marked your skin. 
“What do you mean?” 
It isn’t fair of course.  Though you love Jisoo, and you trust her with your life, you’ve never really told anyone about your feelings for Yoongi.  You suppose saying them out loud might have made things harder to deal with.
She tuts. 
“You like him then?” 
You nod, “Yeah.” She shakes her head, and tugs a hand through her hair.  Jisoo is nothing, if not blunt.
You prepare yourself for her worst. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” 
The comment takes you by surprise  You were expecting her to tell you how stupid you were.  How Min Yoongi was totally off limits to everyone at your university.  He was the Vortex, for christs’s sake!  Instead she sighed sympathetically. 
“What?” 
She shrugs, “That sucks.  You know, after your birthday party, I was sure he liked you too.” 
You cock your head to the side, confused.
“What do you mean?” “Don’t tell me you didn’t see the way he was looking at you all night,” She takes a bite of the stack of pancakes, “I mean… to me it kind of seemed obvious that he was into you.” “I told him how I felt.” “You did?” 
“Yeah.” You nod carefully, slowly, wincing as you remember the heartbreak from last month, “I got super drunk at a party and just… I don’t know.  I guess I couldn’t really keep it a secret from him anymore.  I told him and he never brought it up.  And now,” You clear your throat, “Now he’s got a new girlfriend.”
Jisoo’s eyes widen, “Who?” 
“Jennie Kim.  You know that really pretty girl from my economics class.”
“Jennie Kim…” Jisoo’s eyebrows furrow for a moment, “Are you sure she said she was dating him?”
“She said she was Yoongi’s friend…”
Jisoo laughs, “Oh my god Y/N.  You’re an idiot.”
“Excuse me?” “Last I heard Jennie Kim was not into boys.” 
You feel your eyes bug out of your face and for a moment you’re stunned into silence, “What?  Are you kidding me?” “She introduced herself as Yoongi’s friend and you just assumed they were dating?” “She’s beautiful… I don’t know,” You buried your face in your hands, “I’m the dumbest girl alive, aren’t I?” After a moment, Jisoo moves your fingers away from your face, eyes sympathetic and kind.  She smiles you, and despite yourself you smile back.
“You need to talk to him.”
“Just because Jennie isn’t his girlfriend doesn’t mean he likes me,” You tell her sadly, feeling your stomach drop at your own words, “It still doesn’t change the fact that I told him I liked him and we never spoke about it.”
“You confessed when you were drunk… Maybe he was waiting for you to bring it up.”  Jisoo raises a brow, “You need to speak to him Y/N.  About everything.  Sober.”
In your heart of hearts you know she’s right.  
And that’s the scariest part.
JUNE
You take a long time to process everything Jisoo told you that evening/
It takes almost a month for you to build up the courage to tell Yoongi how you feel.  But you know she’s right.  As scary and overwhelming as everything seems right now, this is the last straw.  You need to tell him.  You need to get it all off your chest, and whatever the consequences may be, you will work through them.
“We need to talk.” 
Yoongi is sat in the living room, flicking through the TV channels boredly, when you make an entrance, swallowing back the nerves that threaten to overwhelm you.  He sits up quickly, switching off the TV and turning to look at you.
“We do?” “Yeah.”  
Peaches is curled up on his lap, and you sit down on the sofa, a safe distance away from him.  His eyes roam your face quickly, trying to figure out what’s happening, but you try to remain impassive for the time being. 
“Alright then,” He cocks his head to the side, “Go on.”
You take a deep breath.  Maybe the deepest breath you’ve ever taken in your whole Goddamn life, and click your tongue.  
“I meant what I said that night.” 
Yoongi quirks a brow, confused, “What night?”
“The night I got really drunk at that frat party.  When I told you I liked you… I meant it.  Every word.”  You’re not looking at him, too afraid to see his reaction.  Instead your gaze stays locked onto Peaches ears, eyes grazing her soft fur carefully, “I like you so much Yoongi.  And I know it’s probably stupid, because you’ve made it abundantly clear to me, on more than one occasion that music is the most important thing to you, and that you don’t care about dating.  But I had to tell you.  You don’t have to say anything back to me.  I don’t expect anything… How could I?  But I just - I wanted to tell you.  The truth.  Sober.  I like you.” 
There is a long pause.  Nobody says anything, and you’re scared to even breathe. 
“You like me?” 
Finally your eyes move towards him, and you find yourself lost in the chocolate brown of his warmth, feeling yourself melt into everything that represents Yoongi.  You nod resolutely, trying to read his expression, but all you can see is surprise.
“I’m sorry if that makes things awkward,” You tell him sincerely, meaning every word from the bottom of your heart, “I just… I wanted everything to be out there in the open.  Full transparency.”
“It doesn’t make things awkward,” He answers after a moment, and you notice his eyes have softened to the warmest shade of brown, “Not at all, actually.” You bite your bottom lip, “It doesn’t?”
“Shit…” He shakes his head and laughs a little, “I feel like such an idiot now.”
“What… Why?” 
“Because I like you too.”  One side of his mouth quirks up and he clicks his tongue, “So much.” Your brain feels like it just shortwired.  You stare at him, uncomprehending.
“Wait… What?  You like me?”
“Of course I like you, you idiot.  I’ve liked you for months now.  Couldn’t you tell?” You laugh, feeling like you’ve been struck by lightning, “Are you kidding me?  Yoongi you’re like a freaking rubix cube! I thought I didn’t have a chance.”   He shakes his head, and moves Peaches off his lap, scooting towards you, “Well you were dumb then.  And so was I.  I like you a lot.  A lot.”
You frown, “So why didn’t you ever bring that night up?  I thought you were sparing me the embarrassment of telling me you didn’t feel the same way...” He scoffs and shakes his head, “I didn’t bring that night up because I’m an idiot.  I thought you’d said it in the heat of the moment, that you didn’t mean it because you were drunk... And I was too scared to bring it up in case you took it back.  I’m sorry. Y/N.  Can you forgive me?”
You feel like everything is brighter all of a sudden, all of the colours make sense to you, and Yoongi is the only face you need to see for the rest of your life.
“Of course I forgive you Yoongi.  Can you forgive me-”
 “There’s nothing to forgive.  You’re perfect, Y/N.” He interrupts, shifting towards you and pressing a hand against your cheek, “Now...can I kiss you, because fuck I’ve been dying to do it for months.” You feel like the air has just been sucked out of the room and both your lungs, but you nod anyway, and let him move towards you, pressing a hot kiss against your lips.
Everything melts away, as Yoongi threads his hands through your hair, pulling you closer, until your toppling over into his lap.  He doesn’t seem to care, as he moves his mouth towards you clavicle, pressing open-mouthed kisses on the skin there.
Suddenly everything is hot, too hot, and you hear yourself moan embarrassingly loudly.  Yoongi smirks against your throat, and then sucks on the dip of skin just because your collarbone.
“Yoongi,” You pant and he pulls away for a moment, eyes dark and swirling, “Shit.  I’m going to lose my mind.” “C’mere.” 
He presses his mouth to yours again, and nothing else matters but him for the time being.  Yoongi - your Yoongi - finally. 
The world makes sense. 
 Soon he’s taking off his shirt, and you do the same, trying not to blush when his hungry eyes rake your figure.  He licks his lips and murmurs to you how beautiful you look, how long he’s wanted to do this… How hard you make him.
That last one sense a warm fizz through your veins. 
When he wraps his mouth around one of your nipples, and uses his free hand to push past the barrier of your panties, you feel like you’ve been transported to another world, and suddenly all you can breath… all you can feel is him. 
“Yoongi,” You mewl, as he coaxes you towards ecstasy. 
He smirks, “Yes baby?” The endearment sends an almost painful ache through your heart.  Through your lust, you’re able to roll your eyes at his arrogance.  But secretly (or not so secretly) you love it.
“C’mon sweetheart, let me hear you.”
You moan as your high approaches you, and when you tip over that edge, Yoongi is there with you, holding onto you tightly and telling you how absolutely perfect you look when you cum.  You feel your body flush, but when you open your eyes he’s smiling down at you, and you trace your fingers across the crinkles by the side of his eyes.
“I love you,” You whisper, even if it’s too early… Even if it might scare him away.
Because in your post-orgasm haze, it’s the only thing that makes sense to say.
His smile freezes, and for a moment you worry you’ve scared him off, but he lowers his head and presses a gentle kiss to your clavicle. 
Nobody has ever revered you like this before, and it sends a rush of affection through you.
“I love you too.” 
The words are whispered into your skin, and you hope they’ll seep into every pore of your being. 
Later on that evening you make love on the living room floor, and Yoongi makes you feel loved, loved, loved like nobody has ever done to you before. 
You tell him how much he means to you, and every single kiss he places on your naked body is a vow; a promise of things to come. 
And on that very first night, as you finally retreat to the sanctity of Yoongi’s bedroom for some much needed rest, he tucks your hair behind your ears, and with sincerity in his eyes tells you something that warms your heart to the very tips of your toes.
“Every single song I’ve written since I met you…” He smiles gently and presses a kiss to your nose, “They’re all about you.”
And everything slots into place. 
Yoongi’s music is his, but now it is yours too.  Because he is yours. 
Life is good.
//
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vannahfanfics · 5 years
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Rain, Rain, Go Away
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Category: Romantic Fluff
Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Characters: Tamaki Suoh, Haruhi Fujioka
As Haruhi stepped out of the threshold to the school building and the skies immediately split open to shower her with cold, pounding rain, it was pretty much the cherry on top of an already monumentally dismal day. As her brunette hair became instantaneously plastered across her forehead, she only sighed heavily and swiped a finger across her skin to push the wet strands out of her eyes. Of course, she had not brought an umbrella since she had declined to check the weather forecast because she woke up thirty minutes late this morning and barely had time to get herself together before scrambling out of the apartment she shared with her boyfriend, Tamaki. He had an earlier class and had woken up earlier and left long before she had, so she had no one to ensure she had woken up on time. She hadn’t, but instead slept right through her alarm. That was only the beginning of an all-around miserable day.
She had missed the city bus and had to run to school. She had only barely made it, blasting into her classroom in a sweaty, wheezing mess, only to sink into her desk and discover she had left her laptop at home. She had barely been able to keep up hand-writing notes and it left her hand terribly cramping. She had tripped in the lunchroom and made an even more fool of herself and hadn’t been able to get the grease stain out of the pretty new skirt Tamaki had bought her as a present. Her beleaguered demeanor and shabby clothes had of course attracted stares the rest of the day. In her last class, she had discovered that she had done the wrong section of homework due to a miscommunication, and had been forced to take a lesser grade by turning it in late the following day. Just as school had ended and she thought that perhaps her streak of bad luck would lift, the day had literally decided to rain on her parade.
“I just have to get home, and nothing bad can happen there…” she mumbled while pulling her bag closer to herself in a pitiful effort to keep it from getting entirely drenched. The other students walked around her, holding their umbrellas aloft as they chatted amiably, and no one offered Haruhi a spot underneath their shield from the rain. Haruhi sniffed against the cold settling into her body as she tromped down the school steps and turned onto the sidewalk that would lead her home. Her hand continuously swiped her bangs out of her eyes, which she had scrunched up against the rivulets of water streaming down her skin. As if her day hadn’t been comically miserable enough, of course, a driver carelessly drove through a widening puddle against the curb and sent a wave of water falling over her. “You have got to be kidding me!” she screeched angrily as she held up her arms, which were now laden with slimy street water. She wrung the ends of her long sleeves while gritting her teeth, watching as the stream of water that poured forth dove into the layer of it flowing across the sidewalk and soaking into her shoes. Every inch of her clothing clung uncomfortably to her. Her notes were undoubtedly soaked, as her bag had not escaped the wall of water flung at her. “Just get home,” she mumbled again before continuing her trudge down the street.
By the time Haruhi made it home, she was already sneezing. Water puddled onto the linoleum floor as she tromped into the flat with a series of gross-sounding squelches. She pulled her schoolbag off her person and gingerly retrieved her binder, then grimaced; the pages within were clumped together in one sodden mass. Rather than changing into warm clothes because she absolutely had to salvage her notes, she flung the drenched bag aside to let it pool across the apartment floor and headed to the bathroom to retrieve her blow-dryer. After blasting the pages with enough heat to make them manageable, she strung several lines of twine across the largest space, the living room, and meticulously strung each page up with clothespins to let them air-dry. By this time, Haruhi’s clothes were only slightly damp. As she walked to the entryway to retrieve her still-dripping schoolbag, she neglected the puddle of water that had formed there and promptly slipped. She screamed as she landed harshly on her side, and burning pain traveled up her arm and across her shoulder from striking that sweet spot of her elbow. She lay there curled up on the ground for a moment, whining in pain while her clothes eagerly soaked up the water there like sponges. She laid her head against the floor and contemplated dying, and the door burst open.
“Haruhi?! Are you okay?” Of course, it was Tamaki, freaking out. As much as she loved him, she could not deal with his overwhelming protectiveness right now.
“I’m fine,” she muttered as she pushed herself onto her hands and knees, then reached out to slide her schoolbag over the floor. It left a smear of water in its wake, like the slime trail of a slug.
“Let me help you up!” he twittered, and Haruhi, in her ire at her miserable day misplaced, harshly smacked his hand away and glared at him.
“I said I’m fine! Now leave me alone, Tamaki!” He recoiled at her harsh tone and simply allowed her to rise unsteadily to her feet. She cursed as she sneezed loudly a few times in a row and felt the shivers coming on. Ugh, now is not the time for me to have a fever! I have too much to do! She thought through gritted teeth. She ignored her perplexed boyfriend and the rest of their friends who had been attracted from the neighboring apartment peering into the doorway. She batted the drying pieces of paper away as she unsteadily wobbled into her bedroom, and threw the door shut behind her. The bag slipped from her hand as she fell face-first into her bed, just wanting a moment of something soft and warm, but then realized that in the process she had drenched her comforter and screamed in exasperation. The thick, plush fabric absorbed her ire as it did the water.  
A warm shiver did not relieve the chill she had contracted. A pile of discarded tissues was already forming as she sat curled up in her office chair, wrapped in two thick blankets with snot running from her nose, and barely able to type at her computer for the intensity of her shivering. This made Haruhi’s annoyance persist, and her sour mood did not help her concentrate in the slightest. In a fit of rage, she flung her computer aside and slammed her forehead against the desk, then repeatedly continued banging it in some attempt to vent all her nervous, angry energy. I just want this day to be over. It wasn’t that simple, though. She had to finish her work. Without lifting her head, she groped for her laptop and dejectedly pulled it to her. That’s when the knock at the door came, soft and hesitant.
“Haruhi?” Tamaki’s voice floated through the wood like the tune of a song Haruhi didn’t realize she had missed. Rather than being irritated by his appearance like earlier that day, she was relieved, and then immediately guilty. Ugh, I was such a jerk… she thought with a groan. Too embarrassed now to open the door, she just continued to sulk against the desk with her hand still resting on the keyboard of her laptop that she now had no intention to use; Tamaki took her lack of yelling to be permission, and she heard the doorknob twist and the soft creak of the door as it slowly opened. There was a silence as he drank in her sorry state and the collection of tissues on the floor. “… I take it you had a bad day.”
“Uh-huh.” His footsteps were soft as he strode across the carpet. There was a soft thunk against Haruhi’s desk and a warmness that bloomed across her cheek, and she looked up to see a steaming bowl of soup resting just at the edge of the desk, and Tamaki’s softly smiling face hovering above it. At the kind gesture, especially after her rude treatment of him, Haruhi’s bottom lip wobbled and she pulled the blanket over her face. “You shouldn’t have…” She did not resist as Tamaki spun the chair around and crouched in front of her, pulling the blanket off her head to reveal the pouty expression she was wearing.
“Of course I should have. When someone has a bad day, it is only common practice to make them feel better, no?” His serene smile and kind face warmed Haruhi more than the soup ever could have. With a sigh, she fell forward to loosely wrap her loving boyfriend in a hug. “Eh?” he blinked, mildly confused at the response.
“I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you. I’m sorry I snapped earlier, Tamaki.” The sigh slipped past her lips as she buried her face into his neck, his luscious blonde hair falling over her face. She felt eased as she breathed in the familiar scent of him.
“Oh,” he chuckled softly. Haruhi smiled as he turned his head to press a kiss into her comparably tousled and messy locks. “That’s okay. I only cried about it for about ten minutes.” Haruhi snorted with laughter because she didn’t doubt the dramatic fool did. The blanket slipped off her shoulders as she sat up, and Tamaki fixed it with a bright smile. “Do you feel better?”
“Much,” she affirmed happily. Her eyes drifted over his face for a moment, and then she leaned forward once more to gently press their lips together. She felt the heat blaze across Tamaki’s face at the sudden action, but he relaxed after a moment and reached up to gently caress her cheek though it was clammy and hot with fever. He would probably catch her cold, but Haruhi didn’t think either of them cared in that moment, since they were too absorbed in each other. Haruhi was reminded, as she always was, how grateful she was that she ended up in that music room as the rain clouds cleared and the sun shone down on a brilliant new day…
Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!
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Falcon of Detroit (DBH Connor Fanfiction) Chapter Three
~Phoebe's POV~
"It's past one in the morning. Go home, Phee," Hank sighed, urging me to rest from the case and wait until I'm refueled.
"I can't! There's too much goin' on in my brain right now that it'll be difficult to sleep! I must find out why this 'Amadeus' is after me and where that rogue who was targeting Harvey went." I tapped viciously on my keyboard, looking up anything that would provide a single clue to either the case or Amadeus.
"Phoebe, I must side with the Lieutenant. You're suffering from high levels of anxiety and exhaustion," Connor stated.
"I'll go get a cup of coffee. That'll help me," I said, getting up and heading to the break room. I nearly spilt my coffee as I turned and saw Connor had followed me in complete silence. "Stop doing that!"
"Phoebe, you must rest."
"No. Since when do androids care so much about humans?" I ask, taking a sip of coffee.
"You are my partner. It is natural for one, whether human or android, to worry about someone's well-being."
I heave a deep sigh and grip the cup gently between both hands. "If I go home and rest, will you stop worrying?"
Connor nods. "Also, the Lieutenant would benefit from your rest, as well."
"Maybe he should go home, too. He's been here since eleven this morning."
"He just left."
"Wait, really?" I peer past the android to see Hank was, indeed, gone. "Well, then..." Coffee in-hand, I head back to my desk and gather my things. Before I was able to grab my keys, Connor snatched them off my desk. "Connor, what're you doing?"
"I will drive you home," he simply replies.
"I'll be fine. My place isn't that far."
"It takes less than five seconds for someone to get into an accident, Phoebe."
"It's one in the morning. There'll hardly be anyone on the road."
"You can still get into an accident with your surroundings."
I sigh, giving in to his persistency. "Fine. You can drive me home." The two of us left the station and I gave Connor my address. He drove me safely to my house and I thanked the android as he helped me carry my things inside.
Connor sat my stuff down on the sofa while I headed into the kitchen and tossed a handful of files on the counter.
"Thanks for the help, Connor. Guess I'll see you in about..." I glance down at the clock on my phone. "Six hours."
"Get some rest, Phoebe," Connor said before he left. I locked the door, dragged myself to the bedroom, and flopped down on the soft sheets with a huff.
When my head hit the soft pillows, all the exhaustion hit me at once. I fell asleep without any trouble.
-Seven A.M.-
When I woke up, I immediately took a shower and ate breakfast. I checked my phone to see I had a missed call from Hank. Luckily, the older man had left a message. I listened to the short message and learned Connor was able to get a confession out of the deviant we caught the previous night. As I had guessed, the android was triggered by his owner's abuse, resulting in an overwhelming wave of emotions. Not knowing how to deal with the new sensation, the deviant killed his abusive owner.
"Too bad we're not keeping score at who guesses everything right. I'd be kicking everyone's asses," I laugh. After eating breakfast, I changed and saw it was fifteen minutes 'til eight. Grabbing my bag, car keys, and files, I leave and head to the station.
-Detroit Police Department-
I dropped everything on my desk and used the ponytail holder on my wrist to tie my long, crimson locks into a ponytail. I saw Hank wasn't at his desk and there were no signs of him being here. I remember the message he left on my phone and connected the puzzle pieces. "Connor must've called him and then Hank contacted me. Drunkard must still be at home."
I sat down and read through the files while sipping at a cup of coffee. My thoughts were interrupted when Harvey came over and slammed a dog collar on my desk. "That damn rogue killed my dog last night!"
"I understand you're angry, but—"
"I'm furious! Get off your ass and find that fucking android! If there wasn't a police officer with me, I would've been killed!"
"First of all, we don't have a lead to where this rogue currently is hiding. We can't go knocking on doors asking for a rogue android."
"Yes, you can! You have solid evidence!"
"Ten dead bodies and one connection isn't solid evidence! We don't even know what model this rogue is! We can't just go knocking on people's doors and telling them there's a rogue who's murdered ten men! The entire city would be chaotic at the news! Why the hell do you think we haven't informed the media of this case?!"
Harvey slammed his fist on my desk. "If you won't, I will!"
"And if you do, I will have you arrested for leaking private information. Now, it's up to you whether you spend your time in jail or at home. Your choice, Mr. Benjamin." The man clicked his tongue in annoyance and left the station. I sigh, pressing my hands to the sides of my head. "This is gonna be another long day..."
As I wanted to scream out for all to hear, I saw Connor walking over and sealed my lips. "Good morning, Phoebe," the android greets.
"Good morning, Connor. What brings you to my desk this early?"
"Another homicide was reported ten minutes ago. I believe it requires your expertise."
"You mean 'our' expertise." I grab my keys and cup of coffee. "Where to, mon ami?"
Connor flashed a small smile when he was able to understand my minor French. "One-zero-three Hazel Grove Boulevard."
"I know where that it. To the batmobile!" I pointed towards the entrance. Seeing as Connor didn't know Batman, either, I couldn't believe it. "Man, CyberLife definitely sucks at their job! Can't even bless their creations with the almighty Bruce Wayne. Such a shame!"
"You will have to introduce me to these 'references' you mention."
"Oh, sweetheart, don't say that or you'll be stuck at my house watching superhero movies for days on-end whether you're there willingly or tied to my sofa. Now, let's go check this homicide out. Maybe it'll have a link to this 'Amadeus' or even the ten murdered men."
-103 Hazel Grove Boulevard-
A plethora of cops were already on the scene when Connor and I arrived. A familiar face greeted us as we entered the beautiful house. "Glad to see you again so soon, Detective Falcon," Officer Shultz greets.
"Officer Shultz, I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon, either. If you're here, that must mean..."
"Yeah. The victim's face was burned off along with his fingerprints. Unlike the previous bodies, Lenny Hopkins didn't get a mouthful of hydrochloric acid."
"It would be futile to erase his identity when the rogue killed him in his own house. We type the address in our database and we'll see who owns the house. Where's the body?"
"Face-down in the pool. Follow me."
Connor walked beside me as we headed to the pool. The cool breeze greeted us when we stepped out the sliding glass door and onto the pool deck. "Oh, geez..." I mumble, watching coroners pull the body from the water. When I saw his tattered clothes, I raised a brow. "Connor, could you scan the body?”
"Right away, Phoebe." The android did as I asked.
I glanced at Connor, his chocolate gaze meeting my sapphire one. "It's not Mr. Hopkins, is it?"
"Correct. This man is Jamie Starling. He lost his job a year ago and has no spending records since June."
"That was five months ago. He must've lost his home and filed for bankruptcy after he could no longer pay for his house," I sighed.
Officer Shultz clutched his tablet tightly. "Then, where is Mr. Hopkins?"
"May I borrow your tablet, Officer Shultz?" I question.
He hands the device over. "Go right ahead, Detective."
Typing in Lenny's name and address, I pulled up a few pages of information. I crossed his history with Harvey's and saw the two were close friends. "Well, shit..."
"What did you find, Phoebe?" Connor asked.
"Our missing owner is a close friend of Mr. Benjamin," I reply with a huff. "And I think I know why the rogue took him."
"To lure out Mr. Benjamin," Connor said.
"Exactly. Now, if I were a rogue android, where would I hide a hostage and how would I contact Mr. Benjamin?" I pace back and forth, a finger resting on my chin as my brain kicked into overdrive. A random thought popped into my head, but it seemed quite outlandish. I decide to share the theory with Connor anyways. "What if the rogue is hiding in one of victims' houses?"
"It's quite a theory, one that would be viable enough to search each house of the rogue's victims," Connor replies.
"Officer Shultz, can you gather small groups of officers and send them to each of the houses? I know there's ten of them, but it's easier than checking each one individually," I glance towards the man.
"Right away, Detective Falcon." He ran off and gathered his team.
I placed a shaky hand against my forehead. Connor saw the jittery limb and spoke up. "Are you alright, Phoebe?"
"Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine. I just hope we'll be able to save Mr. Hopkins and Mr. Benjamin before this rogue pulls the trigger on both of them."
Then, my phone rang out of the blue and saw it was Hank. "Hey, Hank. Whatcha need?"
"Why the fuck didn't you take the day off?"
"Was going to, but I decided against it. We need to find this rogue."
"'We'? You're with that damn tin can, aren't you?"
I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Don't call him a 'tin can', Hank. Drop the hate and let us do our job. I'll talk to you later."
"Phee, hold—!"
I hung up and slid my phone back in my pocket. Connor peered at my face, knowing exactly who had called since I knew Hank was yelling on the other end. I patted him on the arm with a smile. "Don't worry. Just a small argument that'll clear up with a few glasses of tequila."
"It seems Lieutenant Anderson is a heavier drinker than I had thought," the android commented.
"I'll but him a single shot of tequila, but the rest will be shots of water. That old geezer needs to stop drinking so much. A couple glasses of scotch are alright here and there, but not every damn night. Man's murdering his liver. He also... never mind."
"Phoebe?"
"Forget that last part. That's a personal story only he can tell you. Anyways, let's go find this rogue! I'll feel much better once this case is closed."
Officer Shultz divided his team and sent them to nine out of the ten addresses. He assigned me and Connor to the final address. As we got into my car, I smiled at Connor. "Y'know, I never thought I would've ever said this in my entire life, but you don't know how happy I am to have a partner who can identify anybody by licking blood off his fingers. That... sounds even stranger when I say it out loud."
Connor smiled at my words. "I'm unfamiliar with human emotions, but I am glad to be of help, Phoebe."
“Well, I'll say this now since Hank refuses to see past your appearance: I don't care that you're an android. All I see is someone who's helped me tremendously in the short amount of time I've known him." Connor seemed to be at a lost for words, so I continued. "I'm glad to have you as my partner, Connor."
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letaliabane · 7 years
Text
Give Me A Chance
Bruce Wayne x Reader
Prompts (CLICK HERE FOR LIST)
1: “ Give me a chance. ”
30: “ So that’s it? It’s over? ”
A/N: HELLOO! Oh its so good to be writing again! Year 12 is a fucking pain in the backside. I needed a break and thought you all deserved this and though t that there wasn’t enough Bruce Wayne out there so here you little munchkins go. Know that the ask box is open and you may choose a prompt and send it in (REQUESTS OPEN ONLY FOR THE BATFAM, SORRY! + NO NSWF), but I may be a bit slow so be kind to your writer pleaseee.
I sat at my desk, the sounds of the tapping of keyboards and high shrill screams of phone making me sit a little straighter every so often. I had been a cooperate assistant at WAYNE Industries for a couple of years, having started off as an apprentice before working my way up through the jobs.
Suddenly the doors to the elevator of our level opened with a loud ding, making me look up to see who it was before looking back down with a small gasp, praying   under my breath that he hadn’t noticed me. I heard the footsteps creak over the voices and activity in the office, and cursed under my breath. My prayer had gone unanswered, gulping before looking up into the eyes of Bruce fucking Wayne. The White Knight of Gotham, its Prince, its Salvation.
I didn’t think of him as a bad person, oh no. Bruce and I had been going out on a few dates in the past few weeks. And they had been absolutely perfect. I loved them. And, I loved him. But i knew that I couldn’t just dive deep into the relationship, I didn’t want to get hurt … Not again, especially by billionaire playboy, and become the face of embarrassment in the company.
‘Good morning Sir,’ I said courtly before looking back down over the stack of papers in front of me. Bruce couldn’t help but sigh heavily, ‘Morning Y/N.’
‘Is there something I could do for you?’ Once again he sighed. ‘Could I have the itinerary for today as well as the files for this morning’s conference.’ I searched through the piles of paper, taking the manila folder and handing it to him quickly before looking once more for the itinerary. God damn it, of course I had to lose it. ‘I seemed to have misplaced it, just give me a minute.’
‘Seems we work you way too hard, Y/N.’ I couldn’t help but smile a little, but it was gone just as fast as it had came. After pulling a stack of files out of the way, I sighted the itinerary with a sigh of relief. I reached over to grab it before I felt Bruce’s hand brushing against my own, a shiver running down my spine instantly as he hooked his fingers through my own. I looked up into his eyes, the first eye contact we had made that entire day. His eyes were filled with pain as I flinched away from his touch, ‘Here you go Mr Wayne.’
And without another word, I fixed up my desk, and the tapping of my keyboard continued. I only looked up at the sound of Bruce’s office door slamming. With a sigh I slouched in my chair, pushing my hair out of my face. I my line of vision, I caught sight of a bunch of women huddled in one of the cubicles, sniggering and scoffing at the sight of me.
‘What does he even see in her? I mean she probably doesn’t even get a quarter of what he makes a year!’
‘She doesn’t even have a figure like the women he hangs out with, I mean why would he even associate himself with her!’
‘And can you believe the nerve of that girl?! Dismissing Bruce as if he were beneath her!’
‘Perhaps she likes all her men to be submissive like the whore she is—’
That was the last straw. I slammed the lid of my laptop down, making them shriek and many heads turn towards me. I threw the important files into my bag, as well as my laptop before rounding my desk, glaring at the women who had insulted me before entering the elevator. I looked up in time to see Bruce, a deer caught in headlights at the  glimpse of my tears falling as the doors shut.
-
I rush into my apartment, throwing my bag onto the floor hurriedly before racing to the bathroom. I let the cold water run, throwing the substance up on my flustered skin. I gasped for air as I looked up into the mirror, the women’s voices echoed in my head before whispering to myself, ‘Oh Y/N, what have you gotten yourself into?’
I groaned loudly, rubbing the heel of my hands against my eyes gently before deciding on taking a hot shower. I groaned as my muscles relaxed beneath the heated water, wiping my face slowly. After I changed into some sweat pants, a t-shirt and hoodie, all in grey. Wonderful.
Since I was at home I might as well do some work. So I sat down, opening my laptop, and just as my fingers began to tap once more against the laptop when suddenly there was a loud banging upon the front door, echoing lavishly throughout the almost empty apartment.
I rolled my eyes, making my way down the hallway, “Who on earth is it?” I didn’t even bother to look in the peephole, opening the door and ready to curse at who had interrupted my peace. But without another second I slammed the door shut, only for Bruce to shove it back open, walking in without a care in world. ‘Bruce what the hell-’
‘Why have you been ignoring me?’ ‘What?—‘ ‘Don’t fuck with me Y/N, why have you been avoiding me AND ignoring me!’ I flinched lightly at his tone, taking in the anger in his eyes. ‘So that’s it? It’s over? I mean we had a great time at dinner last week and suddenly this happens? Is it something I did? Something I said? I mean I don’t understand—’
‘No … Bruce-It’s not you!’ I said as I felt the tears already coming up, sniffling slightly. My breathing was uneven as I got nervous, my hands sweaty and wringing each other to distract myself from the current situation. Bruce instantly picked this up, tone of voice becoming much softer. 'Then … what is it?’
I shook my head. 'Its-Its complicated you see, its too hard to explain …’ ‘Just take your time, take all the time you need. I’ll be patient …’ There was silence between us, the only sound resonating was my sniffling. Finally, I spoke, 'I-I’m sorry.’
'What for?’ ’For ignoring you. I shouldn’t lead you on like this, I shouldn’t have.’
'What do you mean? What are you talking about?’ He says, coming closer to me, my whole body shaking now as he stood only a short distance away, our feet nearly touching.
'I-I was scared … I’m scared …’ I whispered softly, but I knew he heard me as he took my face into his hands, pulling it up so I would look up at him only to show the tears that fell fast down my cheeks.
'I-I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified Bruce …’ I said softly as he wiped my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, ‘In all the relationships I’ve been in, yeah there’s been something. However with you … I’ve never felt like this with anybody! But I just-I’m scared that I’m not good enough to be standing beside you, Gotham’s prince, their glory!’
Bruce couldn’t help but chuckle at this, gripping my face just a little tighter in his palms. How could, he thought to himself, this little piece of light not be worthy, it was he who was not worthy. He himself wanted this to be more than a mere fling, saw that the innocence in his hands was something he wanted to uncover and understand like nothing he had ever encountered before. 
'I understand, but just know Y/N. That, whatever you’ve been through before me, know that I will NEVER mistreat you. I know that you’ve heard about me being this billionaire playboy who cares about nothing but his money and title … but I’m different, I WILL be different! We’ll have our bad days of course, but all couples can’t be perfect can they? But most importantly I don’t care about your money, or your title or anything! I just want you, and only you. Just give me a chance, please.’
I nodded slowly, unable to look away as he gave me a small smile, one that I had come to love and appreciate over time. The way his lip curled and his dimples tinted just a little. Slowly, he began to grow closer, his heated breath batting against my lips, his forehead pressed against my own. A gasp left my lips at this, his nose nudging mine delicately. His eyes searched my own, those ocean blue eyes that made my head spin whenever I stared just a little too long.  And in that moment, I just couldn’t help but let myself go.
He pressed his lips against mine softly, almost like a feathers touch against glass. I couldn’t return it, not just yet as I trembled under his touch, gasping softly before letting my hand creep to one of his own that held my face. Bruce pulled away with a grateful smile, kissing my forehead gently before he embraced me into his chest, holding me tightly. 
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