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dapandapod · 2 years

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Kelp Forests and trinkets

Hello lovelies!

My brain is very empty but it is Mermay and I had to! Because somfte! Please enjoy!

Oh, and Kuri I love you, thank you for Beta reading, you are a gem!

On Ao3 here For the @thepassifloradiscord Merweek

Normally, Geralt would roam in the Kelp Forests of old. He enjoyed the sunlight filtering down from the surface, the broken off rays of light shimmering between the kelp's thick leaves.

It is not without its dangers, but that is why he is there, to guard their little reef. His folk rely on him to keep the dangers at bay, and he does so to the best of his ability. His body wears the scars to prove it; bitemarks, and sometimes even claw marks from surface creatures.

Usually, it is not so bad. It heals up fast enough when he is allowed to rest back home. But one of his side-fins took a bad beating a few years back, and every now and then it pains him. It is healed, as well as it can be with being torn into pieces, but sometimes when he makes a sharp turn, or when he gives chase after some pest trying to eat his family, he feels it for a long time after.

The Kelp Forest is calm. Their stems sway in that soothing way of theirs. Dancing, Jaskier called it once, and Geralt thinks that, yes, maybe they are. At least when Jaskier sings to them, they do.

That is how they met actually.

Geralt was patrolling the outer edges of the Kelp Forest, when a voice reached his ears. Distance was tricky sometimes, but it sounded close. Geralt had followed it, only to find Jaskier singing to himself as he sat on the edge of a big rock formation, his scales glittering in the sunlight.

At the time, Geralt had been pissed about it because the singing had attracted a rather large shoal of Razers, a small but sharp toothed fish that were too nosy (and hungry) for their own good.

Jaskier, the idiot, apparently did not yet know what it meant to be out in the open like that. While singing in itself is an innocent activity, and usually a good strategy for placating whales or even sharks, it can be a bitch when his folk were unable to read their surroundings and attract attention such as that.

They were not in mortal danger, but would have been had Geralt not stepped in and not only shut Jaskier up, but pulled him into the relative safety of the kelp. After that near-death experience, he took to following Geralt, watching his every move, *singing* until Geralt finally relented and admitted they were friends.

It took even more time for Jaskier to nestle himself into the reef, but no time at all to make sure that there was a place for him in Geralt's home.

Living together came surprisingly easily; his family took to Jaskier like algae to a bone.

And since then, they have been living like that for years. The cave system Geralt had chosen was perfect for inhabitants more than himself. Maybe he had hoped one day to fill those rooms with life, despite the aching loneliness when he originally chose it. Maybe Jaskier had already known, and that is why it was so easy to slip into Geralt's life, once he found the door.

This time, he is making the rounds on his own. It is a longer route this time because his brother, who would usually meet up with him halfway, had to stay home.

Eskel mentioned something about a 'hatchling' that needed his help in the message sent earlier, but Geralt knows full well it's because said 'hatchling' is in fact a full grown mer who had been courting Eskel for a full year already.

If he had the guts to do it, Geralt would probably attempt courting too. Sometimes when he is on patrol, he would spot something Jaskier would like. A pretty shell, smooth sea glass, sometimes even a pearl.

He has a little pouch of things he has found. He has only once ever given Jaskier something from those treasures. The smile Jaskier gave him stayed with him for days.

A few days later, he would be the one who let someone else take patrol. Geralt had made up his mind just the night before. Yes, he and Jaskier live together, do pretty much everything together, but there is one thing he is missing.

The one thing yesterday had given him a taste of. Jasker had fallen asleep while clinging to his arm, his lips pressed against Geralt's shoulder. And Geralt would do anything to get that again.

So this morning he sent Roach with a message, the little sea horse speeding off to Eskel's home. Payback for flirting instead of working, he thought, as he collected another armful of seagrass.

Jaskier won't be back for a while yet, so he should at least have an hour or two to finish up the first step of his plan. When he decides he has enough seagrass, he settles into a nook in the cave wall, weaving the grass together so it becomes thick and soft. Perfect to nest on.

It takes some time, some swearing, and some more gathering of sea grass when he butchers a few too many to keep going, but when he is done, he has new, bigger bedding for his nest.

There is just about enough time to put it into place when Jaskier returns, calling down the halls to announce his arrival. It makes Geralt's blood pump with nervous energy, and before he can change his mind, he rummages through his hidden bag of courting gifts, and picks out a shark tooth.

As per usual, Jaskier bursts into the room, telling Geralt about his day, arms waving and fins swirling with expression. Sometimes, Geralt feels like he could watch him speak forever.

"What's that?" Jaskier interrupts himself, mid story, finally picking up on what Geralt is hiding in his hands.

Geralt feels his face heat up, and he offers up the little treasure to Jaskier with an open palm.

"Found this when patrolling," Geralt mumbles. "Thought you might like it."

Jaskier's smile is blinding. He picks it up, the very tips of his fingers brushing against Geralt's palm. There is no reason for that to send a shiver through him, down to his tail fin, but it does.

Jaskier studies the tooth this way and that, holding it up in the light as he asks what kind of animal it came from, if you can tell the creature's age from it, what this spot right here means, would this be better as a knife or as a necklace, and so on.

Geralt answers all of his questions, and when he quietly offers it to Jaskier as a keepsake, he is rewarded with a kiss on the cheek. As much as he had decided that today would be the day asked Jaskier to be his, he can't fight off the nervous grumble at that.

Jaskier just smiles and swims back to his own nest to place the gift somewhere safe until he has decided its fate.

As soon as the other mer is gone, Geralt finds his little bag of treasures again. This time, he chooses three very small pearls he found. Rolls them between his fingers, feeling their smooth surface, letting them ground him.

He wonders if he can give them to him just like that? Or maybe he should save them, give the pretty rock instead, the one that glitters when turned.

Before he can make up his mind, Jaskier returns, words exploding out of his mouth again with ideas for the tooth. It has Geralt smiling, glowing inside with how his gift was so well received and with so much enthusiasm.

He doesn't notice himself floating closer until Jaskier turns silent, looking up at him with quiet wonder.

"Geralt?" he asks, quietly for once, eyes big and questioning.

"If I told you I picked you dozens of courting gifts, but lacked the courage to give them to you..." Geralt starts, but trails off. The naked hope on Jaskier's face, it catches him off guard somehow.

"Yes?" Jaskier whispers, inching closer too.

He blushes, even his gills turning a pretty pink, and Geralt just wants to reach out and touch him.

"If I collected them to give them to you... would you accept them?" Geralt braves, and when Jaskier's smile wavers, when his chin wrinkles and his brow furrows, Geralt thinks for a moment he read it all wrong.

"Can I show you something?" Jaskier whispers, and when Geralt nods, Jaskier reaches for his hand.

He is guided out of his own room and down the hall, to where Jaskier has his nest. He should be used to Jaskier's tactile nature, but he still isn't. It always surprises him when Jaskier reaches out, when he offers reassurance or seeks comfort.

As soon as they are inside, Jaskier lets go and swims up to one of the upper shelves. His nest has always been a mess, full of things that Jaskier finds interesting and beautiful, his ornaments and instruments strewn about the room, mixed with the little corals growing here and there. Jaskier returns with a sheath, and inside it a whale bone, carved into a knife.

It is beautiful, if a little crooked, but wonderfully decorated with runes and carvings.

"Where did you find this?" Geralt asks with wonder.

"Lambert helped me make it. Or, well. He made it mostly, didn't let me near any of the sharp objects."

Geralt snorts and Jaskier smiles, coming closer and pointing out the finer details on the knife.

"Yennefer helped me with this bit. Said it would help keep you safe. And this one, Ciri put it there."

Geralt admires the handiwork, recognizing the runes and symbols. The one Ciri had put on it was a charm to lead him home.

"And this one?" Geralt asks, pointing to an inscription along the top blade.

"If I told you this is a courting gift, would you accept it?" Jaskier whispers, mirroring what Geralt had asked before.

Gently, Geralt sheathes the knife and puts it down. Then he reaches forward, cradling Jaskier's face in his hands, leaning forward.

"There would be no higher honor," Geralt whispers, and Jaskier's face crumbles again. He looks devastated, and Geralt doesn't understand it, but then the mer is throwing his arms around Geralt's shoulders, pressing close.

He tucks his head in under Geralt's chin, the hands that had been cradling him now holding him close instead, and Geralt finally, finally feels whole.

"Beloved," Geralt whispers, and Jaskier makes a pained sound and presses closer.

"I have had that knife for months," Jaskier admits into Geralt's collarbones, lips grazing the sensitive skin there.

"I have collected courting gifts for years."

They stand there for a long time, just holding each other. Then they hold each other while lying on Jaskier's nest, barely fitting together even with their tails curled around each other.

"I had another question for you," Geralt murmurs into Jaskier's hair eventually, and the mer looks up at him.

"I... uh....made my nest bigger...."

Maybe it is too soon to ask? It feels soon, but also oh so very late. But Jaskier is smiling at him, adjusting them so that he is looking down at Geralt, bracketing him in between his arms.

"Would you share it with me?"

Jaskier kisses him. Soft and lingering and warm and perfect, one of his fingers slowly dragging along Geralt's cheek bone. When they part, Jaskier is giving him another of those blinding smiles.

"There would be no higher honor," Jaskier replies, leaning in for another kiss. Geralt melts into it, losing himself in Jaskier, in the sensations of finally, finally being close the way he has always wanted but never dared.

Too scarred or too broken to think someone like Jaskier would ever want him, but here they are. It has barely reached midday, but it is hard to do anything other than hold each other close and trade kisses.

Eventually, Geralt's stomach growls, and they have to get up and get food. Now that it is allowed, Geralt can't stop touching him.

Brushing their fins together, resting a hand on Jaskier's lower back, thumbing away food from the corner of Jaskier's mouth... He can't stop.

They wrestle, which dissolves into cuddling, into kissing, and it is like all those years of waiting has led them up to this. The first touch is tentative, hands exploring and kisses deepening.

When Jaskier presses closer, presses them together, Geralt can't help the low moan slipping out.

"I thought the courting came first," Geralt teases, but Jaskier won't have it. Not entirely, at least.

"I have spent years courting you in my head. I want this. Please."

Despite those years of mental courting, it is too early for the final step. Maybe this will all fall apart in time, maybe it will turn out they won't be able to stand each other within a few months.

Jaskier just laughs when he says it, and Geralt doesn't believe it either. But for Jaskier, he wants this to be done right.

Day by day passes as he empties his courting bag. Trinkets and gifts and findings are given, and Jaskier accepts each and every one.

Until Jaskier is gone for two full days, returning with a golden ring for Geralt.

The inscription matches the one on the knife, and what Geralt had called him that first night.

Beloved.

Geralt still makes his rounds in the Kelp Forest. He doesn't hesitate to pick up the treasures he finds now. He brings them home to his husband, his mate, presenting each and every one as a gift.

Jaskier calls him a romantic. Geralt calls him home.

#geraskier #mermay #the passiflora merweek #mer!geralt #mer!jaskier #friends to lovers #getting together #fluff #first kisses #cuddling #dapanda writes #courting gifts #i am very tired send help

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practicecourts · 2 years

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11 days in may left,here’s a little snippet especially for my partner @wearingaberetinparis

Read on Ao3

(Thanks for beta-ing @ginemrys)

A throat clears behind her.

“You were checking me out.”

Lily turns around and looks up. One of the posh blokes that just came in is standing beside her. He steps closer and casually leans into the bar as he pushes his glasses back up his nose and flashes her a cocky grin.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I saw you looking at me, so I thought I’d just come over and hear the verdict.”

Lily narrows her eyes and looks behind her, there is nobody else. Is this guy being serious? Was that a line? As in he’s chatting me up? Talk about perfect timing… Just kill me now. Oh.

Looking at him she needs to crane her neck at a rather uncomfortable angle. Good god, he is very, very tall. And now that she really looks at him, she notices a bit unwillingly that he is also very nice to look at. Actually, strike that, this guy is really really fit. He is handsome in a way that feels completely out of place in this dump, even if he does look a little bit scruffy. No wonder the singer is sparing no effort to attract hims attention, she’s been flashing her lashes seductively, even from where Lily’s seated, it’s hard to miss.

And Lily can’t really blame the other woman. He’s wearing the hell out of the usual safari uniform: a blue linen button up and faded khaki shorts with pockets in all the right places.

“Verdict?” She repeats, nonplussed.

“You know, my score?” His accent is unmistakably posh, she tagged him correct, his voice sounds nice, a deep musical quality to it that makes something inside of her flutter. It must be the shock of all that’s happened today, I’m not usually this impressed, not by someone just trying a silly line on me anyway.

When she doesn't answer him he says: “How about I give you yours? A five, out of ten.” Surprisingly when he smiles as he tells her she’s not even a little above average, the nerve of this guy, it’s not at all condescending. On the contrary, his smile is dazzling and strangely infectious.

So much that Lily feels the corners of her mouth twitch up to meet and match his smile with one of her own. What am I doing, I have no time for this. I could have less than three days to live and I only have tonight to make a plan. A proper plan on how to get out of this or at least find a way to let my family know I loved them. I can’t be wasting my time with some pretty Oxbridge ooh-I-lost-my-way-looking-for-an-epiphany-on-my-travels-abroad guy, even if his laugh makes me feel as if everything will be alright. How does he do that?

#snippet #may jily is going to be at sea #may jily challenge

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keilemlucent · 4 years

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teacher’s pet

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~3.2k

Keigo is a remarkably good listener and fast learner, especially when you're involved.

warnings: virgin keigo, gooey ass, soft, sweet smut, not too mention the softest keigo i’ve ever written probably?? first time oral baby, also praise kink

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shoutout to @la-saffron for the lovely headcanons and feral shit that inspired this fic. and thank you to the wuv @keiqos for beta reading. enjoy some soft, gooey, smut. this fic is, at its root, keigo finding the clit. that’s the plot

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“J-just like this,” Your voice was soft and breaking, spit sticking in your throat. Touching yourself in front of Keigo like this should’ve been somewhat intimidating, especially with the rapt focus he had on every movement of your body and breaths. But, surprisingly, watching the way he nearly drooled at your form just made you hotter.

When Keigo asked to date you, you’d never expected he’d be a virgin. But, with his work and his mutations, he’d never had sex or the opportunity to do so properly. Truthfully, he never even learned much beyond his own base needs to blow his load with his fist.

But, you were more than a willing teacher.

Laying on your back atop his silken comforter was heaven, head propped up ever so nicely by a pillow that Keigo had placed under it. The night had started off with slow touches and soft kisses, all things the two of you had done before. But, it progressed to a little planned show-and-tell.

You were splayed before him, naked over his sheets with your legs spread as he kneeled in between them. For all of his gusto and readiness, his wings were folded against his back, timidly tucked away as he took you in, gently palming his cock.

Every motion of yours seemed almost lazy. Fingers slowly pinched your nipples while your other hand played with your sex at a tortuously relaxed pace. All the while, you kept your voice low and liquidy.

“Right here?” You circled your clit, back bending the slightest bit with the hums of heat it sent up your spine. “This is my clit. It feels really good if you touch it nice. It’s very sensitive though.”

Keigo nodded like the good boy he was, enraptured by you.

He had beads of sweat racing down his temples, hair mussed by his own touch. Other than gently pumping his own leaking cock, his only other moment was to occasionally fist his hair, a whine dribbling from his bitten lips.

This must’ve been scary for him, truthfully. All the vulnerability of not only being bare for someone else but them being bare for you.

You had seen a bit of fear when Keigo had first started to help you disrobe, how his touch got so gentle, feather-like against you to the point of raising gooseflesh. He’d stared so cautiously at you when you first slipped down onto the covers. Despite the tenseness in his shoulders, he traced up your bare body with shaking breaths and clammy hands.

When you had parted your legs around him, you watched how the gold of his eyes was eaten up by his widening pupils. His mouth had fallen open, cock twitching cutely in his boxers.

But now that you two were in the heat of the moment? He was a perfect student despite his usual sarcasm and crassness out of the bedroom.

“And here,” You slipped a finger into your sex, feeling a bit of slick puddle around the digit. Keigo’s nostrils flared, wings twitching. “This is my pussy, where your pretty cock goes when you fuck me, right, Kei’?”

He nodded, thumbing over the head of his cock, smearing preek. His voice shook with his own tension and deep-focus, “Y-yeah.”

You smiled at him, shifting one of your legs to give his thigh a soft bump, “You’re doing so well, baby. You wanna know more?”

“I mean, yeah, but... I haven’t really done anything,” Keigo spoke with some remorse, averting his gaze from your body to somewhere far off. The corners of his lips tugged down, his arm going to guard over his chest as though it could protect him from his own internal fear.

That insecurity, that look of near humiliation just wouldn’t do.

“Keigo.” You spoke to pull him from his thoughts. It roused him well with the way he turned back to you, eyes widening as you slowly pumped your finger in your cunt. “You’re gonna do so much. I can’t wait for you to make me feel good. Can you help me?”

Oh, the call to help others was intrinsic and embedded in Keigo’s psyche.

One of his half-taloned hands drifted to rest on your thigh. His expression went doughy, softening at your even softer words, “I can. I promise.”

You beamed at him with everything you had.

“Thank you. I know you can. God, Keigo,” You shook out a breath, withdrawing your finger from your sex. “Do you want to taste?”

Oh, the look he gave you. He may have been avian, but with the light in his eyes and the way his tongue dropped from his sweetly parted lips made him look far more like an obedient puppy than a bird.

You smiled at him, tilting your head as you slid your fingers into his mouth, pressing down to rub your digits on his tongue.

“See how nice I taste? Imagine how good that will be all around you when you eat my cunt.”

The thought had Keigo groaning around your fingers, squeezing his cock. His fist jerked from balls to tip as his eyes rolled back in his head.

Without even instructing him, he sucked at your fingers, lapping at them perfectly. You let him lave over them, his tongue dipping anywhere it could savor you.

You pulled the digits away, admiring the way they glistened with his spit. You brought them down to your cunt, rubbing over your labia.

“Before we fuck, you gotta make sure I’m ready,” You told him, slowly pressing two fingers to your entrance. You could certainly go faster, but this was ‘educational’. “Gotta stretch me out nice, make sure I’m all wet. Well, that isn’t too hard with you around, is it?”

You send him a quick wink and marvel as he turns cherry red.

“And this is important, sweetheart,” You called his attention fully, slowing your movements. “There’s a little spot inside me, that if you hit it just right, will make me feel so good.”

You were just about to crook your fingers when Keigo stopped you, stilling your hand with his own. He gently tugged your wrist, bottom lip pushed out in a pout.

“C-can... I try?” He was so tentative, looking shyly at you as you were so vulnerable beneath him. “I w-want to help you feel good.”

“Of course, ‘Kei. You’re going to do so well.”

He shuddered at the praise.

You took your fingers from your cunt to your lips, sucking off your own slick. Really, it was just to watch the way Keigo’s thighs clenched as you did.

You flickered your eyes lower as you took your fingers from your mouth, wiping them on your hip, “Go for it, I’ll tell you what feels good and what doesn’t. Make sure you use the hand we clipped your nails on, okay?”

Ever diligent, Keigo genuinely checked his hand to make sure it was the correct one, talons tamed for the specific instruction that was occurring.

With all the grace and tenderness he could muster, Keigo gripped your thigh, massaging the muscles on his way to your cunt. It was cute, the way he fell forward as he did, ending up propped up on his elbows between your legs. There was pure awe in his eyes as his finger reached the apex of your thighs.

He looked up at you, hesitantly.

You nodded, shooting him a smile before settling a hand on his shoulder to rub at the tension he was still carrying in his shoulder.

Gingerly, Keigo let his fingers drift from your hole to your clit, grinding the pad of his thumb down on the puffy nub. Keigo was a good student, truly, as his pressure and speed were enough to make you drop your head back on the pillow and let out a purely sinful moan.

He paused.

“Good?”

His voice was so sweet.

“So good, ‘Kei. Keep going.”

He obeyed dutifully.

His touch slipped downward, teasing the entrance before slipping one finger in. He moved slowly, but not in any way that was lazy. With the quivering of his feathers, you could tell Keigo was literally feeling the way you reacted to him. Every twitch and spasm of your cunt was his guide, as were your quickening breaths.

He pressed another in, shortly. Watching them coat with slick, slowly fucking into you again.

“Good boy, ‘Kei. You’re doing so well for me.”

The praise made his eyes roll back in his head.

You smirked.

“Now, baby,” You called his attention again. “To hit that special spot, all you need to do is curl your fingers.”

He frowned, flattening himself to the bed a bit more, “That seems... Very easy.”

You couldn’t help chuckle, carding a hand through his damp tresses, “It’s not hard, once you know what you’re doing. Why don’t you try for me?”

Oh, did Keigo obey so fucking sweetly for you.

You never thought that someone simply softly fingering you, so fucking kindly and gazing at you so reverently would turn you on as much as it did, but god, did it.

Keigo’s fingers curled in your cunt, every movement precise, but not quite enough.

“A little more, baby. It’s a bit harsher of an angle than you think.”

Keigo’s brow pulled down as he bit his lip. You could feel his hot breath over your cunt and inner thighs as he crooked his fingers just right.

The cry that rang from your throat surprised both of you. Being gently touched like this, on your insides, was making you turn to liquid before him. Your nails dug into his scalp as you lightly rolled your hips into his touch.

Your legs tensed around him as he massaged at the spongy spot. With your head thrown back on the pillow, you couldn’t see his face.

But holy fuck, could you feel it.

Keigo, apparently, decided to take some of your lessons for a spin. The searing breath you’d been feeling before was suddenly very close to your sex, just before you felt the light lap of his tongue against your clit.

“Oh fuck, Keigo!” You fisted the sheets, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t think him kitten-licking your cunt (just once) would get you this worked up, yet you were sweating and needy for him.

“Am I doing this right?” Keigo drew his mouth away, pressing a sugary kiss to your thigh instead.

You nodded, breathing a bit harsher. You needed more.

“Yes, Kei’. Fuck,” Your voice trembled. “Do you want to keep going?”

There was a deliberate pause.

Keigo rose up from his spot between your legs, his actions met with a little whimper that was caught in the back of your throat.

He slid over you, straddling your hips and placing his hands on either side of your head.

You stared up, now wide-eyed yourself.

Keigo had never looked this intense before. There was still something so fucking tender and raw about how he looked at you, a sweet smile on his face as he pressed a kiss to your nose, then your cheeks, and finally your lips. You cupped his jaw, tilting your head to get more of him.

He pulled away, his breath coming in little puffs as his wings slowly spread out behind him.

“Can I please make you cum? Please?” Keigo asked so sweetly, kissing down your neck. “Let me make you feel good.”

How quickly does the master become the student. Or, maybe receiver.

All the same, thoughts of training Keigo were gone. With the smoldering look he was beaming you from his amber eyes, all you could do was give him a breathless ‘yes, please.’

Keigo was smitten under your command.

He slid down your body, leaving kisses in his wake. Nothing harsh, nothing that could hurt or be painful. Each movement was matched with a flicker of a grin from him with the way your body jumped with every touch.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” You lavished him in praise as he drifted down your body, settling between your legs once more.

This time, he gently hiked your calves over his shoulder, nestling between your thighs and adjusting as he needed.

You swallowed, the feel of Keigo so close making your cunt ache. You needed him in a way you’d rarely let yourself indulge before. Most of the time, the feeling of needing release after a particularly steamy makeout session with Keigo was sated with a well-used vibrator and a glass of wine.

But, to have Keigo so close and so ready?

You could feel the slick dripping from your hole at the mere thought. The coil in your gut already seemed tight with the anticipation of it all.

“God, dove,” Keigo breathed. Without missing a beat, he dragged his tongue up your cunt, stopping at your clit to swirl his tongue around it once.

He pulled away, but not before dropping a kiss on the throbbing bud. All the while, you let out little keens and gasps, forcing your hips still so as to not overwhelm him.

You looked down at him, lips parted and wet with spittle. His eyes met yours, lips curled in a smug grin, “You’re so beautiful. Can I taste you more?”

You could tell by the tone, look in his eye, and your knowledge of Keigo’s general demeanor that the moment he got the hang of making you feel good, he was going to take advantage of his prowess and become the most obnoxious tease.

You savored the thought.

“Please, Keigo. Show me how good you are.” You breathed back, letting yourself relax into the sheets as Keigo went to town.

At first, he only used his tongue. He left languid licks as he pressed as close as he could to just ravish you with what he had learned.

Keigo was obviously a very talented, well-trained person. He showed you with the way he ate your cunt like it was ambrosia and nectar, tracing shapes and sigils on your flesh with the way his touch bewitched your body, wracked with tremors and needy cries.

Quickly, he was pressing a finger into you. This time, he wasn’t so slow, but still, the amount of care he put into the motion was almost startling. He gently pumped in and out of you, all the while still kissing at your clit. He lapped at it, nonsense words and sweet nothings being spelled out on the sensitive flesh, each movement causing hot pleasure to curl your toes and bend your spine.

You cried and moaned for him, giving him all the praise you could find your lust-fogged mind. With each utterance of how Keigo was a ‘good boy’, you felt his throaty groans vibrant against your sensitive bits.

You cherished the feeling.

Keigo withdrew his fingers, taking a breather from licking you as well. Glancing up at you to check-in, he beamed up at your already fucked out expression.

“Feeling good?” He asked, kissing your thigh with a quick nip.

He’s getting bolder.

“Very good,” you hummed, yipping at the sensation of two of his fingers playing with your entrance. You weren’t above begging, despite knowing that allowing him to figure out how into it he would be was a dangerous move. “Please, Keigo. M-make me cum for you.”

He hummed, musing over it, Pandora’s box opened.

Though, he seemed to decide to test out teasing on another day. Keigo was kind enough to fuck his two fingers into you, cunt nearly sucking them in with the way you were already so tense and ready.

You could feel his smile against your clit as he tried sucking it into his mouth, curling his fingers at the exact same moment.

The gentleness, the carefulness and the love in it all nearly made your vision white out. You clung to lucidity, babbling sweetness to Keigo as he massaged at your insides, fucking them earnestly with his perfectly toned muscles behind each movement.

As he tongued at your clit, he never took his eyes off you, watching each of your twitches and reactions and adjusting accordingly. He hardly had to, though. The slick drenching his fingers and the way your hands flew to his hair were more than enough of a sign that you were already getting close.

“Fuck, fuck, Kei’, don’t stop—” You nearly sobbed as boiling pressure was so close to bubbling over in your belly.

His fingers truly fucked into you as he grunted against your sex, moving with more vigor but not once losing rhythm or pace. You could vaguely tell that he was grinding against the bed, scarlet wings extended, and flapping every few moments.

With one final kiss to your clit, you crested over the edge and let yourself go.

You spasmed around his fingers as you wailed out his name, hands flying to his hair to hold him to your cunt, grinding against his face as he sputtered out his own moans. His hips stuttered against the bed, wings beating the air a few times as your back arched and you sang for him.

He kept moving through your orgasm, pressing and rubbing at your cunt with all the technique and knowledge he could, guiding you to the last moments of your peak.

You fell against the sheets, boneless. Sweat laid sticky in your hair as your chest heaved with breath.

Keigo, the surprisingly attentive lover, popped up from between your legs, “Was that okay, dove?”

“God, Keigo,” your vision still spun as you reached for him. “Fuck, it was so good. You’re such a good boy, such a good fucking boy, Keigo.”

“I am, now?” Keigo’s normal teasing mood coming alive once more. “Glad to hear that. Can I do that again sometime?”

“Anytime, fuck,” You propped yourself up on your elbows, dragging him closer. It was then noticed his softened cock, wet with cum. “Did... you come? From eating me out?”

“And, uh, humping the bed.” That shame presented itself once more in his voice. Even as you dragged him closer, cuddles necessary, he looked a little ashamed. “I got a little excited.”

“Keigo,” You put your palms to his cheeks, squishing them and frowning softly, but the expression quickly turned melancholy. “That’s good. It’s all about both of us feeling good. And, did it feel good for you?”

“Fuck yes,” Keigo breathed, tension rolling out of his shoulders with your reminder. He snatched you up by the waist, dragging you to his chest as he fell to his side on the mattress. “It felt so good. Thank you.”

He peppered a smattering of kisses across your face as you giggled, all for him.

“Thank you,” Quietly, you returned the sentiment, kissing the apple of his cheek. “For being so good, really. You really are a good listener when you want to be.”

“I guess I am, huh.” At that, Keigo chuckled, nuzzling his nose into our hair with a hum. He wrapped you up the best he could with his wings, allowing you to go gooey in his arms.

“I’m excited to see what else you can teach me.”

|||||||||||||

taglist: @sinclairsamess

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #hawks #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo x you #takami keigo x y/n #mha smut #mha x reader #hawks reader insert #takami keigo reader insert #hawks smut

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honey-boyyoongi · 3 years

Text

Pairing ➪ Y/n x Yoongi | Y/n x Jungkook

Word count ➪ 3.1k

Warning ➪ not beta read; angst; I am sorry in advance

Previous Fic Masterlist

Jungkook has been laying on your lap for what seems, hours. You haven’t spoken to him in a year, maybe a little more. A ‘hi’ here and there when Mrs. Jeon invites you, and Yoongi to events. You can never say no to her. Slowly, you start noticing Sooyoung showed up less, and less. Jungkook always gave the excuses, ‘She’s not feeling well’, ‘Sooyoung has a work project she has to get done’, ‘Her friend is having a baby, and she’s the birthing partner’, ‘She’s housesitting for her brother’. They never seemed to stop. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon were understanding, but visibly disappointed. As far as everyone knew, everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t. Your mother told you it was about children. Jungkook wanted children, but Sooyoung was not sure if she ever wanted to be a mother. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with not wanting children, and not wanting the commitment of it. But they wanted different things.

What Jungkook never told his parents was how messy it was. The harsh words, the long nights, large amounts of tears shed on both ends, and the feelings of failure. Jungkook wanted to make it work. He wants to believe Sooyoung wanted to make it work. Within the week Sooyoung had moved into her co-worker’s place, at the end of the month the papers were signed, by four months the divorce was final, and Sooyoung had accepted a transfer to a sister location across the country. It was fine for a while, at least Jungkook tried to convince himself it was fine. The days felt long, dreary.

He tried to get back into painting, boxing, and other hobbies he had pre-Sooyoung. He started hanging out with friends more, Namjoon was more than happy to catch up over some beers from his favorite brewery. He even started talking to Yoongi more. They were work partners, regardless of that, their chatter never went past the needed communication to complete the necessary work. Jungkook started slowly, asking Yoongi if he wanted a coffee while he got his own. Inviting him to lunch with Namjoon. Even making jokes here, and there. It’s not what it was before, but they’re getting there.

He moved out of the apartment that him, and Sooyoung shared. It was difficult, but he’ll make this new space home. It’s definitely smaller than his previous apartment. Cozier, he wants to say. Jungkook fills it up with art that had been put in storage, his salvaged knick knacks, pictures with his friends and family. His parents gift him new kitchenware. His older brother helps paint. Namjoon gives him some new plants to care for, and Yoongi comes over to assemble some furniture because ‘you need the help kid’. A few weeks post-divorce, he feels good, normal. He’s out with his mom at the mall when he finally sees her.

He wants to say she’s more beautiful than he remembers, but all he can focus on is the bump she has. His mom catches his line of sight, “Oh, look at my Yn-ie. She looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” He nods in response. “She’s eight months now, Mrs. Min says it’s a girl. They’re so excited, Hyeri says Yoonie has been talking non-stop about the baby,” his mother chatters. She talks his ear off about the Min baby. The name, the nursery, heck even the baby shower the moms threw as a surprise. He’s happy for her, for them. He ignores the ache in his chest the rest of the outing.

His mother, bless her heart, goes up to Y/n. Asks how she’s doing, how baby min is doing. “Surprisingly energetic,” she jokes, “Yoongi says she gets it from him, but this is the same man that knocks out if he gets comfortable enough on anything.”

While his mom is chatting Y/n up, he takes her in. She cut her hair to a lob, waves a little more defined. Her smile lines are a little more prevalent. Eyes sparkling, a bit tired looking, the baby must be giving her a hard time if it’s kicking up a storm in there. She rubs her belly in comforting motions, as she talks with his mom. He can’t help admiring her features.

“What do you think, kookie?”

Jungkook stared at his mother, and Y/n, “I’m sorry what?”

His mother sighed, “He’s been like this for a bit, sweetie. Nothing sweetheart.”

They keep chatting about the baby. He tells his mom he has to finish his errands. She waves him away with a ‘be careful’ and ‘love you’. Y/n waves goodbye with a shy look. They walk slowly to the nearest bench, his mother’s hands waving around as she speaks.

He doesn’t know how he gets to Y/n’s house. One drink turned into three then six and a half. All doubles, of course. The bartender could tell he was drowning his sorrows, and promptly cut him off as he was ordering his seventh drink, but instead of a double a triple. His angel of a bartender helped him order an Uber to the nearest place he could remember. Once he arrived at the apartment complex, he made the very unsteady way to Yoongi’s and Y/n’s apartment. He knocked on the door heavily. It felt like a long time until Y/n answered.

She looked so pretty. In her cute little pj’s, belly accentuated by the soft material. Her cheeks a little rosy from the effort of walking at this point in her pregnancy.

Surprise filled her face, “Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

He pouts, swaying a bit as he tries to find his footing, “I.. I miss you. It’s been hard these last few months without you.”

“Are you drunk,” Y/n asks worried.

Jungkook hiccups in response, “In my defense, the nice bartender lady cut me off.” Y/n sighs, she could call Mrs. Jeon to come get Jungkook. But she doesn’t want her to see him this inebriated. The feelings of the divorce probably caught up with him and were too overwhelming. Y/n doesn’t know what to do, but decides to take care of Jungkook like she used to.

Y/n takes his hand, and gently guides him to the large side of the L-shape couch. She avoids putting any of Jungkook’s weight on herself while gently, as gently as she can place a drunk man, sitting him. She coaxes Jungkook to slowly drink a full glass of water to sober up, with little difficulty thank goodness. After a moment or two of adjustment on the couch that wouldn’t make her uncomfortable, Y/n settles next to Jungkook. It would be better to be closer to him, as to avoid the unavoidable struggle that movement seems to have these days.

Jungkook must be finding it difficult to sit upright, as he ends up laying down. Feet dangling on the edge, head on the available part of your lap, his face looking away from your belly. He starts to hum quietly, nothing specific really, it’s calming.

“Can you pet my hair, please,” Jungkook mumbles. Y/n nods, “Sure. Your hair has gotten long, I like it. It suits you.”

Jungkook slurs, “Thanks, Sooyoung hated it long. Said it made me look messy.” She hummed in distaste, “She also hated anything that wasn’t to her liking. I’ve missed you too Kook. It’s been weird not having you around.”

He snuggles deeper into her lap finding comfort in her warmth, “I know. You don't know how much I’ve been wanting to call you, and just tell you all the things that happened.”

Y/n nudges Jungkook up, she settles more comfortably into her spot and nudges Jungkook back down. He decides he’s no longer satisfied with looking at the wall in front of him, and with the most grace he can muster he turns to face Y/n’s belly. If he was sober enough he could’ve seen the pink rising in her ears. He grabs her hand and places it back on his head to keep receiving his favorite head scratches. Maybe it’s the whiskey, but he feels like he’s having a staring contest with Y/n’s belly. He’s strangely okay with that, until he feels the (surprisingly) hard kick of baby min on his cheek.

Jungkook lets out a groan, and follows it up with an antagonistic soft poke at the spot the kick came from. “Your kid isn’t even here yet and it’s already bullying me,” he sighs. “You’re supposed to be nice to your elders,” he tells her. Y/n giggles, “She’s a kicker. Sometimes she’ll wake me up in the middle of the night. I don’t know where she got this energy from. My mother in law says her boys weren’t too rowdy, and mom says I wasn't a kicker, but more of a crier. So that’s something to look forward to.”

Jungkook laughs, he wants to say she still is. He looks up at her, “Is it okay if I touch your belly?” Y/n is a little shocked. The few times he’s seen her, he’s never mentioned anything about her pregnancy. She wants to question him, but decides against it. She gives him a soft nod, and guides his hand to her belly. “Be gentle,” Y/n tells him.

Jungkook moves his hand in small, soft circles. Making quiet noises of contentment. A few minutes of silence pass by with no words exchanged. It feels comfortable, even a little nostalgic to how things were pre-marriages. “Kids,” Jungkook says.

“What?” Y/n asks.

“We divorced over kids,” he says more firmly, “Sooyoung wasn’t sure if she wanted kids. You already know I wanted them. We couldn’t come to an agreement of when we would start trying. She wanted to wait because she was up for a promotion at work, and she didn’t want to pass it up by staying home with the kids. I told her I was okay being at home with them, the good thing about my job is that I can work from home, if needed. I could be the stay at home dad, be part time until we were comfortable enough to put them in daycare and go back to full time. She said she’d think about it.”

He sniffles, and buries his face into Y/n’s belly. She starts to caress his hair to comfort him, “It’s okay, take your time.”

Jungkook sniffled a bit more, rubbing little circles on her belly with his thumb, “She said we would talk more about it. A little before you got married we talked about it again, but she kept saying she can’t do her job and be pregnant. I told her she wouldn’t do it herself, I would help her. We were a unit. She refused to talk about it after that. Any time I wanted to have a talk about it, it turned into something bigger and ugly. A few months ago I mentioned that mom had told me you were pregnant.” He paused for a moment, wondering if it was appropriate to go on. Y/n kept playing with his hair, encouraging him to speak when he’s comfortable.

“I made a comment..,” Jungkook mumbles, “I made a comment about how I couldn’t wait for our kids to be running around together. Sooyoung got angry. She said that would never happen. I asked her why, you were still my friend, so is Yoongi. Why wouldn’t I want our kids to be friends too?”

Y/n hummed, not sure how to react to Sooyoung’s statement. “Is that what started the argument?”

He nodded, “Yeah. I got upset, I told her that she can’t keep avoiding my friends, I missed you guys and wanted to be how we were. I wanted you to, at least, be amicable. I didn’t expect her to be best friends with you guys.” Jungkook got quiet once again. He could feel baby Min moving. He wanted to feel what he’s missing these past several months.

“So, clearly she didn’t like us,” Y/n jokes.

Jungkook chuckled dryly, “Clearly. She said how do I expect her to be friends with the person she’ll always be second best to. As well as the people that blamed her for us not being together.”

“I told her Joon and Yoongi don’t blame her for anything,” he said, “She wasn’t second best to anyone, and you’ve been my friend for years. Sooyoung didn’t believe it. I asked her if we all somehow got along, why wouldn’t our kids be friends. She said there wasn’t going to be any kids for yours to be friends with. I asked her what she meant.” Jungkook choked up at the memory, “Sooyoung said after some thinking, she wasn’t sure if she ever wanted kids. She doesn’t know if she can commit herself to that role. She says she has her career ahead of her and I can’t make her be a mom.”

Jungkook started to tear up, “I told her I’m not expecting her to be a stay at home mom. I repeated that I would be a stay at home parent… She… She said she’s not sure if she wants to have kids at all. Sooyoung said it’s too much responsibility.”

He started to sob, his body shaking from the increased intensity. “I couldn’t believe it. When we were dating she said she wanted kids. I’m not upset that she doesn’t want any, it’s her choice. I’m upset that she lied to me about it.”

Y/n’s heart aches for her friend, she knows how much Jungkook wanted kids. Namjoon might be the one buying baby shoes because he finds them cute, but Jungkook has always talked about being a dad. Always talked about how he wanted to be the type of parent his were, that encouraged him to thrive in his likes and talents. He was passionate about it.

“We talked all night. We couldn’t come to any type of resolution. So we decided to separate. This was something that was non-negotiable.”

“Is that what led to the divorce,” Y/n asked.

Jungkook nodded, “She stayed at a coworker’s place that she’s friends with. We didn’t talk for a couple weeks. Sooyoung reached out first. She said this is something she won’t change her mind on. She’s sorry for not being truthful about her stance on kids. We decided to divorce. We settled pretty quickly. It’s signed and official as of last month.”

“I’m sorry kook,” Y/n whispered.

You were sorry, he knew you were. He keeps rubbing your belly, feeling baby Min follow around. Wanting to feel the comfort of having you around.

Jungkook ends up falling in and out of sleep. He doesn’t know how long he lays there for.

“No, I’m fine.”

“He’s asleep right now.”

Who were you talking to?

“No, Yoonie, it's fine. He’s sleeping and he didn’t do anything. I think the divorce finally got to him.”

He heard you pause, but didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment. You must be speaking with Yoongi on the phone.

“No, we just talked about it. He was pretty upset, obviously.”

You continued to play with his hair, brushing out the knots with your fingers. He hummed lowly, snuggling closer to your belly. Baby Min must’ve had the same idea because she was still squirming around. Yoongi assured you he would be home soon with Namjoon to get Jungkook home.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, Kook,” You answered.

He sits up, eyes puffy, and cheeks stained with tears. “Do you ever think about us?”

“Like? Our friendship? Of course, all the time,” you answer.

He scoots closer facing you, and reaches out to hold your hand. “No, I’m talking about us. What we could’ve been.”

“I did, but not anymore,” you answered honestly, “You chose Sooyoung, kook. I wasn’t going to wait forever. I deserved, and still deserve to be happy. And I am happy. You shouldn’t think about the what if’s.”

Jungkook sniffled. “I do,” he whispered, “All the time. I think about what if, I had worked up the courage to confess to you on one of our last movie nights? Things would’ve been different. We would’ve been happy. We would’ve gotten married, and had the wedding you always talked about.” He paused, he’s trying so hard not to cry about it. “We would’ve had those cats you wanted, and we would’ve finally adopted the dog that hangs around the convenience store. We would’ve had a baby. We would’ve been a family. I should’ve said something, shown you how much I loved you. How much I still love you.”

You pulled your hand away from him, “But you didn’t, you chose Sooyoung kook. I loved you, I still love you, but not how you want me to. Maybe things would’ve been different, but it’s too late.”

Jungkook starts to sob, he knows it’s too late. It felt bittersweet to hear that she still loves him.

Namjoon takes Jungkook home. He feels everything, yet nothing. Maybe he can start fresh with no what if’s to cling on to.

Joon helps him get cleaned up, and lays him down in his cold bed. He lets himself dream of what could’ve been.

“How are my girls doing?” Jungkook asked, while caressing your growing tummy. “SHE,” you pointed, “is giving mommy a hard time. S’been kicking all morning. She’s definitely YOUR daughter.” Jungkook lets out a sympathetic giggle. Your baby has been a pain in your butt, more like your bladder, since she could move. Mrs. Jeon says her youngest was the exact same, and to expect an energetic baby once she’s out. She’ll be all smiles, and sweet giggles, as well as a pain to put to sleep. Maybe she’ll take after her father and sleep like a log your mother in law jokes. The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of doctors appointments, birthing classes, nesting, nesting, and more nesting. The nursery has changed colors three times, Jungkook was insistent on doing art on the walls to give it a personal touch. Took a whole weekend, but now your baby girl will be slumbering under the stars.

Both of you have gone through the recommended parenting books, gotten advice from the grandmothers and aunties, Jungkook might’ve panicked a little at the repeated visual of you giving birth. But, it’s all part of the process. He’s been enjoying giving little facts he’s been learning from the shared pregnancy tracker.

“Babe, did you know our baby is the size of a cherry today?”

“Hey, by now they grew all their toes.”

“Did you know our baby can pee? In the womb?”

“Jungkook, what the fuck dude?”

Other than the obvious pregnancy issues, things have been smooth sailing. His favorite thing to do these days has been laying his head on your lap caressing your belly. If it was up to him he’d stay there for hours drawing patterns with his fingers, singing to his baby, feeling her movements.

A/N: Heyyyyyyyy~~~ originally I wasn’t gonna do an epilogue, but I got the idea after talking about a headcanon I had with my sister. Happy (super) late birthday to Jungkookie ❤️ hopefully in my next fic involving you, you get to be happy lol. Feedback is appreciated ❤️

Masterlist

#bts #bts angst #bts fics #bts imagines #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts non idol au #fic: all i want #yoongi #jungkook #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #reader x bts #bangtan fics #bangtan angst #bangtan #bangtan imagines #bangtan fanfic #bangtan non idol au

95 notes · View notes

flightlessangelwings · 3 years

Text

Distracted Dinner Date

Marcus Moreno x gn!reader (no y/n)

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: none really, fluff, romantic!Marcus, food/eating mentions, reader is afraid of heights, softness, kisses, feelings, does it count as pining if they’re already together?

Part of the Laundry Day series, but I wrote it so it can be read on its own. The series can be found on my masterlist. Thank you to @we-can-be-himbos for beta reading for me!

You couldn’t remember the last time you were this nervous for a date. Though technically this was not your first date with Marcus Moreno, this was much more of a proper date than when you met at the cafe a week ago. You picked out something nice to wear, but not too formal. You wanted to look good for Marcus, and also boost your confidence with your outfit. You felt like your choice was just perfect for that.

The plan was to meet at Marcus’ house and he would drive to the restaurant after dropping his daughter, Missy, off at his mother’s. He offered to pick you up from your place, but past bad dates told you not to give out your address just yet, even if this was the leader of the Heroics that you were with. The past was hard to let go, but you had high hopes for your future.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your bag and your shoes, flats for comfort, and headed out the door.

“Wow,” Marcus’ looked you up and down with wide eyes and an open mouth when you arrived at his door, “You look… Wow.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, “Wow yourself,” you quipped back as you shuffled your weight between your legs.

Marcus looked so effortlessly handsome in his button down shirt with the top button open, nice pants and dark glasses on his face. Without meaning to, the colors you both wore complimented each other and the thought made you grin.

“Missy! You ready?” he called out over his shoulder.

“Coming!” you heard a smaller voice in the distance followed by the sound of footsteps down the stairs. Missy stopped when she got closer to you and gawked almost in the same way her father did, “Hi,” she gave you a smile and a wave.

Suddenly, you felt a fresh wave of nerves wash over you. Not only did you want to impress your new boyfriend, but you wanted to make a good impression with his daughter as well. You knew how important that would be to him for the two of you to get along, “Hi,” you spoke in a cheery voice as you gave her your name.

“Ready kiddo?” Marcus chimed in and you all shuffled into his car.

Conversation with Missy came surprisingly natural for you, and you found that you had a lot in common with her. Of course you made the joke about how your style matched a child’s, but Marcus only found that more endearing about you.

“Dad!” Missy chimed in from the back seat, “Look, the fair is in town!”

You looked over into the distance where a jumble of lights lit up the darkening skyline, “I didn’t know the fair was this weekend,” you commented in a dreamy voice.

“Sorry kiddo,” Marcus said, “I must have lost track of the day. I’ll take you next time, I promise.”

That was when you got an idea, “What if we go now?”

You could practically feel Missy wriggle in her seat from excitement, “Can we?! Please!”

Marcus glanced over at you wide-eyed, “Are you sure?” This was supposed to be his chance to pull out all the romantic stops for you. He had the perfect table reserved that overlooked the city with an amazing view and the two of you would not be disturbed like last time. There were even flowers hidden away in the trunk for you too: your favorite after he noticed your reaction the last time he gave you a flower.

“I’m up for it if you are,” you replied back with a smile and a wink, “I can’t think of a more fun way to spend the evening.”

Missy squealed with excitement as he begged her dad to give in. You joined her with a teasing, “Please,” and a pout.

Marcus let out an exaggerated sigh, “I’m in trouble with you two aren’t I?”

You glanced behind you and gave Missy a wink and a grin. Truthfully, you were just happy the two of you hit things off so well right away and how natural you felt with her.

Marcus sighed as he put on his turn signal, “Alright.” He would just have to come up with another way to be romantic tonight. Not that he was annoyed at all, and he knew that there would be another chance in the future for a romantic dinner date with just the two of you.

Cheers from both you and Missy filled the car and you felt a little hand on your shoulder. Missy gave you a little squeeze which you took as a silent thanks before she reached for Marcus’ phone, “I’ll call grandma and tell her.”

“Thanks kiddo,” Marcus couldn’t help but grin. He felt the warmth in his chest as he thought about how perfect everything seemed.

Instead of a fancy candlelit dinner, you all ate various fried food from a basket and yet you couldn’t be happier. Something about being with Marcus and Missy just felt so right and it didn’t matter to you where you were. And soon after, the three of you walked off the fair food and played some arcade games along the way.

Marcus couldn’t help but feel like you belonged with him and his daughter. He watched you with fondness as you concentrated on the target game you and Missy played. The two of you laughed and he felt like the entire place lit up.

Just as you finished your game, someone called out Missy’s name and she turned to find a small group of her friends. Marcus knew by the look in her eyes that she wanted to join them, and he allowed it. The two of you waved her off with the promise to meet up in an hour.

You and Marcus were alone for the first time all evening and the nerves flared up within you again. You fidgeted with your fingers as you felt like a giddy high schooler with a crush again. He didn’t show it, but Marcus felt just as nervous. Also, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Before he knew it, he reached out and took your hand in his. You looked down at your connected hands for a moment before your eyes trailed back up to meet his.

The expression on Marcus’ face made your heart skip a beat. His eyes held such admiration for you, but you also saw hesitation in them. He swallowed hard as his eyes asked the silent question: is this ok? Once you calmed your racing thoughts, you nodded and squeezed his hand.

That must have calmed him a lot, because Marcus dropped his shoulders and let out a heavy breath. The two of you smiled at each other before you let him lead you through the crowd. Though there were so many people around you, it felt like it was just you and Marcus. And it was nice that everyone seemed to be so enthralled in their surroundings that no one noticed that Marcus Moreno was just feet away from them. For that, Marcus was grateful.

“How about some rides then?” he offered.

You leaned into him so he could hear you and savored the warmth from his body, “Sounds great.”

The two of you went on a few rides: the swings, the pirate ship and a mini roller coaster. You also dragged him through a mini haunted house, and he was quick to wrap his arms around you whenever you came across a jump scare. Sometimes it was hard for Marcus to turn off his hero mode, especially when it came to protecting you. But it made your heart skip a beat at how quick he was to protect you.

“How about that one?” Marcus gestured to the large ferris wheel in front of you.

You froze in your tracks and tightened your grip on his hand, “I’d… rather not.”

Marcus couldn’t help but laugh, “You willingly got on the pirate ship and you’re afraid of the Ferris wheel?”

“Shut up!” you playfully shoved his shoulder with yours, “I’m not a fan of heights,” you explained. When he opened his mouth to a playful retort of his own, you added, “I know what you’re going to say! You get that adrenaline rush on the fast rides. With the ferris wheel you’re just dangling there, you know?”

Your explanation made sense, and Marcus of course didn’t mean anything by his jab, “You know I won’t let anything happen to you, right?”

His words made your heart skip a beat as you looked at him wide-eyed. You almost forgot that he was an extraordinary man for a moment. To you, he was just Marcus, and he was perfect just like that. But then his words awakened something in you and you fought back a tear of happiness, “I know,” you whispered so softly that he almost couldn’t hear you.

“Forget it. We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Marcus replied in a light tone and took a step in the opposite direction. But you stayed planted in your spot and tugged him towards the ferris wheel.

“No,” you sounded determined, “Let’s do it.”

“You sure?” he never wanted to push you into anything, but the way you nodded in response told him that you were ok. Maybe you wanted to conquer your fear or maybe you wanted to do something for him since he did so much for you already.

If you were honest with yourself, you were still terrified. But there was something about Marcus that made you feel safe and protected. For him, you were willing to give it a try. You felt calm until you sat strapped into the basket next to Marcus and the wheel started hoisting you two up. He must have noticed your nerves because he put a hand over yours and held it gently. You met his gaze and couldn’t help but grin at the way he looked at you with such concern.

Suddenly, the wheel stopped with the two of you right up top. “Of course we get stuck at the very top right away,” you grumbled.

“You’re ok… We’re ok,” Marcus comforted you as best he could. He felt a tug at his heart at how nervous you were and yet you tried to put on a brave face for him.

You were quiet for several moments as you found comfort in his eyes. It was enough to calm your nerves and your eyes wandered around you. The view was nice from this high and you realized why people enjoyed the ferris wheel so much. “It is beautiful,” you spoke in awe.

“Very beautiful,” Marcus echoed your thoughts as he didn’t take his eyes off of you.

You didn’t see the fond expressions on his face, and before you turned back towards him the ferris wheel moved and jerked you both forward. You yelped in surprise and all the nerves rushed back as the basket you were plunged into the crowd below.

Marcus immediately wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in close against his chest, “I’ve got you,” his voice was soft against your ear and immediately you felt calm and safe again. You felt his heartbeat and paired with his arms securely around you, you had never felt more protected. And you never wanted to leave his embrace.

You peeled yourself away just enough to meet his gaze without leaving his embrace. The rest of the world faded away as you and Marcus stared into each other’s eyes for several moments before you both slowly inched closer to each other. Although you were right next to each other, it felt like forever until your lips connected. When they did, you swore your heart stopped for a second. Marcus’ lips were so warm and soft and his kiss felt like home.

With a soft sigh, you parted your lips in a silent invitation which he gladly took. Marcus’ kiss felt just like his embrace: warm and safe. You found that you never wanted to break away, although you eventually had to for air.

The rest of the world faded away while you kissed because when you finally broke away, you found yourself at the bottom of the Ferris wheel and the ride operator was about to interrupt you. A rush of heat ran through you from embarrassment, but Macrus just took your hand and helped you to stand. You did hear him stumble over his words though, which hinted at his own embarrassment.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he joked with a grin that took your breath away.

“Could have been worse,” you replied in a soft voice once you were able to form a coherent thought, “And you proved me wrong Marcus,” when he furrowed his brows you added, “That was an adrenaline rush.”

He burst into laughter and was about to say something when Missy’s voice called both your attention. She bounced up to the two of you and before long you all headed back to the car. Although this was not the date night that Marcus originally had in mind, it was still the perfect night. After all, he got to see you smile and be happy and your first kiss was better than he could have hoped for.

And Missy held on to the pictures she snuck of you and Marcus on the ferris wheel to tease her father with later.

Notes: So fun fact, out of all my reader characters, this one is the most like me lol. Partly because I saw myself so much in the scenario in the first part of Laundry Day and right now I’m just rolling with it lol. Also, can you tell that glasses!Marcus is my fav look? lol Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno imagine #we can be heroes fic

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

Halo - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where this time, he was the one to save you.

Warnings: smut, oral sex (f), very light reference to past sexual abuse, vague description of dissociating.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: so this is for a request I got for touchstarved!Reader. It ended up becoming much more sentimental than I imagined, so not a lot of my dirty talk or the praise the original request had suggested, but I’m really proud of this work. Hope you guys like it. Shoutout to my cousin @whisperlullaby for beta reading this for me! I love you very much!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

It’d been a week since the man with the blue eyes found me in the darkness. I’d been wary back then, too accustomed to the harsh reality that was all I seemed to remember when I thought about my life, so comfortable in the cold and in the pain that anything else seemed dangerous.

I feared growing used to this new life and having it taken away from me, and he seemed to understand that. Everyone else seemed to empathize with my situation to some extent, but no one looked at me the way that he did. Like my pain was his, too. As if he knew what it was like to have everything about you ripped away, only to be left with new parts that were only useful as a reminder of things you hated.

I didn’t know how to feel about that. Most days, I only felt numb, passively watching life play out from a different window than the cell I’d grown up in. Only the scenes here were lighter, the world certainly brighter than what I thought it was.

Then some days I felt vibrant, powerful emotions that I didn’t know how to interpret, but he was always there to help me. He seemed to know exactly what I needed, and he let me cry against his chest or hit him as much as I wanted before he scooped me up in his arms and rocked me to some sort of sleep.

I don’t think he knew just how much it meant to me, even if he seemed to understand me so perfectly. Hearing his heartbeat against his chest reminded me that mine was still working inside of me. I was still here. Still alive. Still human. Despite what they did to me.

Today was one of the harder days. The patient man - Bucky, he insisted on reminding me of his name, even if I never tried to address him in any way - must have been busy, because I didn’t see him all day. And so I watched the sky change colours, admiring the view I never got to experience before - at least, not that I could remember - but when he found me, I didn’t feel like I was there anymore.

I couldn’t explain it if he asked me to, but he didn’t. Once again, he seemed to know exactly what was going through my mind, as I hugged myself by the windowsill. “It gets better, you know?” He asked, kneeling before me as he waited until I managed to tear my eyes away from the landscape out there to see the color of the sky in his eyes.

It took me a while to be able to speak. His presence was overpowering to me in a way that didn’t make me feel defenseless or threatened. It was like he intoxicated me, pushed away the confusion and fear to make me believe in a future where I wouldn’t be like this anymore.

“How do you know?” I had to ask, and when he reached out for my hands, I positioned them inside his much larger palms. The way he rubbed his thumbs on my skin slowly radiated warmth up my body, making me relax against the white wall I was leaning on.

“Because I’ve been there before.” It wasn’t the first time he’d confessed that. Even if the details of his story still weren’t made clear to me, I implicitly knew what he meant, just like he knew I didn’t need to know more right now. It wouldn’t do me any good. I already had a lot of my own trauma to work through and taking his on wouldn't make the healing process any easier.

His words did comfort me, but there was only so much he could do. And so when midnight rolled around and I was still by that same windowsill, each hour having taken a part of me that made me feel like I was still here, in this bedroom, I decided it was time to accept his offer.

Every night, before he retreated to his own quarters, he made sure to remind me that his door was always open for him, just on the other side of the hallway. Four steps and I’d be there. If I ever needed anything. If I ever started to feel like I wasn’t there.

I didn’t need to say it when he heard the knock on his bedroom door. Just two beats and he was there, looking down at me. He stared at me for a moment, and then he was pulling me in, hands running up my arms in a way he hadn’t done before. No one had.

“Come.” I followed him without question, without hesitancy. I knew he had the answers to the questions I was bearing. He was the medicine that I needed, and it seemed like it was finally time to heal.

When we stopped by the foot of his bed, he turned to look me in the eye again, but still didn’t release my hand. There was a question in his gaze, but I couldn’t identify it without his help. So he knew he had to explain it to me.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” I automatically nodded, not understanding why he was asking. No one ever had before. But surprisingly enough, my instinctive reaction had him hesitating. He cradled my face in his hands and dipped my head back so I’d look him directly in the eye.

“I’ll need to touch you where they did.” My muscles tensed at the insinuation, and I knew he didn’t miss it. But it wasn't because of the memory of when I’d been touched before, by hands much less kinder and softer than his - it was by the question.

They never asked. They just took from me, parts of me I’m sure I’d never get to see again. And here was this man, standing before what I’d become, with all these scraps of metal and blood, and he wanted what was left. He didn’t just take it because it was there. He actually wanted it.

I just couldn’t understand why. And so I asked him. The look he gave me was so inexplicable I couldn’t even begin to describe it. He looked like he was physically pained to hear my question, and his thumb rubbed softly over my cheek, almost as if he was the one who needed it to calm himself down.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

I watched her carefully, trying to take in each and every part of her while also capturing the image of her entire person all at once. Was this what she had seen when she rescued me from Hydra’s claws?

I guess now I understood it. Why she stayed, why she cared when I was the broken one. Although we were in very different positions here - I’d fallen in love with her before she was taken, I knew who she really was. But looking at her like this, there was still so much to love. So much of the person I knew, but even the new parts were beautiful too.

“Because I know you need it.” It was the first reason I could think of, but nowhere near the only one. “Because you’re beautiful. Because… I’m the reason you’re this way. And I want to make you feel good again.”

When I leaned down to connect our lips, I didn’t expect it to feel this way. Sweet and innocent, like a true first kiss, regardless of the context, regardless of our entire history together. She didn’t remember it anyway. And so I was gentle, scared to scare her away, needing this almost as much as I knew she needed it.

I remembered what it was like to get out of that hole. I remembered how she pried me away from the fortress I’d built around myself, with soft hands and sweet smiles, until I was tender enough to accept her touch without panicking.

She whimpered when I pulled away from the kiss, and I couldn’t stop the smile that painted my lips at this clear sign that I was making the right choice. This was what she needed, and my touch would bring her comfort. I didn’t have to feel guilty about it.

But still, the feeling was there, bringing bile to my stomach as I kissed down her neck and slowly took her dress with me. Seeing her naked was enough to get me hard - being near her was enough to get me aroused - even if this wasn’t about me. I just couldn’t help it. To be near her again, have the scent of her skin, the taste of her so near me was enough to make my head swirl.

And when I looked up, there were conflicting emotions on her eyes too. Like being naked reminded her of those memories I wish I could erase, but my position elicited another feeling in her, one she couldn’t easily identify.

It was desire. I could never miss that glint in her eyes, because it provoked my body into an instinctive reaction, like it knew what was to come. It knew what I needed to do to satisfy both me and her.

And I wanted her. I wanted to bury myself in her and feel connected again, to finally acknowledge that she was really here, that I got her back. I wanted to occupy her thoughts with feelings provoked by me, just so all she felt was pleasure and nothing else, not the horrors of Hydra, just love and desire.

I needed to distract her, help her reacquaint herself with her own body. Even though I desperately wanted to fuck her pain away, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. I needed to give her cells the human warmth they so desperately needed.

I knew she needed this. I remembered what it was like to be in this exact position. And this was as impactful to her as it was to me, I realized as I watched her body twitch at the simple action of my hands spreading her legs further apart. It gave me an opportunity to reacquaint myself with her body, even if she wasn’t exactly mine again.

That day would come, I had to believe it. I thought I’d lost her forever, but I managed to find her. She was here now. I just needed to be patient. I needed to bide my time as she slowly readjusted to the real world, and hopefully then we’d get back to where we once were.

But I think no one could blame me for getting carried away. The second my tongue touched her, her knees faltered, and I had to lean her back on the bed just so I could properly lick her lower lips, collect some of her wetness so I could relish in the taste of her again.

She was too perfect, too beautiful for words, as were the little sounds she released, little gasps and half-moans that she didn’t feel comfortable letting free just yet, but I could work with that. They were enchanting all the same.

It was easy to lose myself to the habit of it all. Swirling her clit, dipping my tongue in her warm hole, slurping every single drop of her juices as they dripped out of her. I’d always loved pleasing her. Being able to do it again was nothing short of a blessing in itself. And although I was dying to feel her hands on me, I knew she needed my touch more than I needed hers.

So I let my hands travel upwards, squeezing her breasts when I managed to reach them. That earned me another gasp and a jut of her hips, making me hum against her pussy. Delicious. It was sweet seeing her like this, so innocent, so uncertain. I was used to her being the one with more initiative - at least at first. It felt like I was unveiling a new side of her I hadn’t had the luck to know before we met.

It only made me hungrier.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I’d never been worshipped before. Or at least, I couldn’t remember anything ever coming close to this. He seemed completely devoted to me and this sinful act we were partaking in, but it didn’t seem that sinful with him.

No, it was almost holy, the way he was breaking me apart by glueing me together. His tongue spread out the liquid that seemed to pour from me, and was now covering the lower part of his face and the insides of my thighs. I had no doubt it was slowly coating the sheets underneath us, but if he wasn’t worried, then neither was I.

Just like he seemed to know what I needed without me verbalizing it, it was clear that he knew what I liked without even trying. And something inside of me told me that I had missed this, this sweet act of passion I couldn’t remember ever receiving, this feeling I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt before.

But when he asked me to watch him, I understood it. I understood it because I saw it in his eyes. This was some ancient ritual and we both had shared it before, in this life or in another one, I didn’t know. I didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was giving this to me now, teaching me that this body was here and it was mine, and it was capable of so much more than pain and violence.

With each swipe of his tongue, he taught me lessons I’d never uncovered by myself. And even so, he had the nerve to ask, in that poisonously sweet voice of his, “Does it feel good, doll?”

He knew it did. He had to know, because I couldn’t say it. And I didn’t know what else to do, either. I knew he expected something from me - I expected something from me, every part of my body was tense and taut, waiting for a snap to undo me completely, but I didn’t know how to let go.

“Don’t worry, I can wait,” was his only response. “It’s alright,” he whispered, face still hidden by my own body. “You’re right where you belong. I’ll bring you here anytime.” And this was the promise that had my world crashing down, and as it crashed, it clenched, thrashed, and throbbed and I couldn’t breathe.

But I didn’t feel broken.

I was shaking when the waves let me resurface, and when he pulled away, panic threatened to make me scream or lose my voice altogether. Would he just leave me here?

The separation wasn’t long, despite my fear. He came back to bed completely naked and gently cradled me to his chest, and in the warmth of his skin against mine, I felt better than ever before.

“You’re staying with me from now on,” he reassured me in the hug. And entwined as we were, skin to skin, heart to heart, soul to soul, I knew I’d finally be able to sleep again.

#my fics #my requests #bucky barnes request #bucky barnes requests #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes reader inserts

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giowritess · 3 years

Text

minefields [tommy shelby]

MASTERLIST. | PEAKY BLINDERS.

❝ request: "Can you do fluff prompt 38. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen for Thomas Shelby at his wedding to the reader? Thank you!"

❝ pairing: Thomas Shelby x fem!reader

❝ plot: an aesthetical-y vision of how Tommy and reader got to where they are now.

❝ warnings: cursing, alcohol, age gap, mentions of war and Grace's death

❝ word-count: 837

❝ author’s note: hey guys! sorry to the anon who requested it that i took almost a year to write it lol. this is really short, i didn't put much thought into it since i wrote it while travelling. well, i reallyyyyy enjoyed this and, if you enjoy it too, i might expand it into a mini-series, following tommy and reader as they fall in love and eventually get married. so please share with me your thoughts!!! enjoy

this was beta'd by my darling ari — @amysteryspot. thank you and i love you so much! — if you're in search of a beta, you can make an order for free here at my blog: elysium editions, read the fixed post and learn how!

this was slighty inspired by the song "minefields" my faouzia and john legend.

i got inspired by @everyhowlmarksthedead's design of her posts, so credits to her <3

Happiness was thick in the air.

Everything was so perfect and in its righteous places. The blossoming flowers across the field, the soft spring breeze, the clear blue sky without a single cloud in sight. The sun was shining proudly, warming everyone up with its rays.

They couldn't have chosen a better day.

For once in Thomas's life, everything was working out.

Ever since France, he felt as if there was a dark cloud on his head and his alone. Making everything go wrong in the worst possible way. Murphy's law was always present in his life with the meaning that everything that could go wrong would go wrong.

It was no different with Grace. Tommy took so long to finally open up, to let her love seep in, so long to finally allow himself to open his heart and feel something. How good it felt to know there was someone out there who loved him despite everything.

But his small glimpse of happiness could only last for so long, and everything that could go wrong went wrong.

Tommy was trapped inside her memory. Trapped inside his anger and resentment for everything that happened that day, and the fact that he couldn't go back in time and save her. Offer his life instead of hers.

He took a vow then—Tommy wasn't risking his heart again, loving someone only to lose them all over again. It wasn't worth it because it would always end like this. He was way too old for this shit, anyway.

And then you came along, looking like nothing he'd ever seen before with your sweet floral dresses, your sharp sense of humor, and your soft giggle. You never looked at him as if he was someone bad, instead, you looked at him like the human being he was. You saw through every façade he put on, and that scared the hell out of him.

Tommy still remembered the day you met. You were lost in the betting shop, looking for Michael, standing out in your bright yellow dress. The two of you locked eyes but didn't speak. Surprisingly, you didn't look a slight bit intimidated by him—you simply didn't care. When Michael finally showed up, Tommy envied the way you hugged him.

Turned out you were an old childhood friend of his, from his life as Henry. Coincidentally or not, you were excellent with numbers as well. Better than anyone else at the betting shop, so you started sticking around more and more. Tommy always kept his distance, but also noticed the way you looked at him. Something he couldn't quite figure out glinting in your eyes:. Curiosity? Hate? Attraction?

Whenever you two had to talk, it was always as professional as ever. Thomas always had to remind himself you were sixteen years younger. You didn't deserve an old bastard like him, someone who was broken in so many ways. You deserved someone your age, someone who could give you a good, safe life he knew he couldn't. So he tried his best to look at you as just another secretary that would soon go away. But then your sweet smiles started to show up. The soft, unintentional touches that were actually full of intention from both sides. Then, he went from Mr. Shelby to Tommy in the blink of an eye, and from then on, he knew that he could try, but he would never get his heart back from you—it was entirely yours, already.

The first time you kissed was on a rainy night in his office. He couldn't sleep, so he decided to keep working with his whisky by his side and the warmth of the fireplace, hearing the lovely sounds of the raging storm outside. The sound of the lock startled him, making Tommy instantly reach for his gun.

Instead of meeting an enemy, he found you, drenched from the rain and freezing.

You were walking home from a drink with your friends when the rain surprised you. Since you were always more punctual than him, you had the key to his office, and there you found your refuge. You didn't expect to meet him, though.

Tommy made you sit by the fireplace and take off your drenched clothes, giving you his coat and handing you a glass of whisky. You caught him by surprise when you asked him to sit with you, but he surprised you more when he complied. And he surprised you, even more, when he finally kissed you.

That led to where you were now—about to get married, in front of your families in a simple ceremony on the field of flowers, your favorite place.

You caught his eye, admiring you, and smiled.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Tommy said before finally sliding the ring on your finger.

He knew this could go wrong at any moment, but you were worth the risk. He would fight for you, even if he had to cross minefields. You were his, and he was yours.

author’s note: remember to tell me what u think about turning it into a mini series!

#giowritess #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #fluff #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders fanfic

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jjuzoir · 3 years

Text

Homare Arisugawa General HCS

request: “Hi Sora! I never see any art/writing for my boy Homare from A3! (Maybe because his dialogue is so ridiculous.) Would you mind writing something for him?” from tlali

a/n: ahhh i don’t think i’ve ever taken so long in a request jdjdndnd but i just wanted to make it right because i love homare so much❕ he deserves everything and more i just HDHSJJA we need more homare love 🤬 his dialogue is hilarious and i feel like we need to appreciate his style more no more homare slander 🙅

word count: 1667

- He smells like earl gray tea. No one knows why since he uses unscented soaps, he says it’s probably because he spends most of his time drinking or around tea.

- He’s very particular about his hair, he uses very specific shampoos and conditioners that he will absolutely not share or change unless he notices his hair needs it. Talking about his hair, it’s naturally kind of dry so he uses a lot of hydrating products which leaves him with the softest, most fluffy hair ever. It’s like touching a cloud.

- One of his favorite gifts given to him is a tie given to him as a birthday gift by his members. Everyone pitched it, including Izumi, and Azuma picked it out. It’s black, much like his everyday tie, but it’s got a small embroidered snowflake.

- He’s got three main pairs of glasses; his everyday ones he keeps at hand when he goes out, his at home ones which are (according to him) less flattering, and his driving ones. Keep in mind he can’t drive, he doesn’t even own a car.

- He can speak french and latin, and he’s super loud about it too. He’ll sometimes slip in french phrases and no one will understand other than Chikage and it’s just a mess - Muku is always so amazed that he knows two other languages too and probably asks him to teach him sometime.

- Definitely has the prettiest handwriting when it comes to the roman alphabet, he writes in ink and with fancy pens that cost more than Banri’s tuition.

- Absolutely has a bunch of business cards printed out, each with its own quote made by him. Sakyo thought it was such a waste printing them until he realized that no matter how many Homare took when he went to run errands he always gave them all, to whom? No one knows.

- He’s very well respected in the literary community, which still shocks pretty much everyone. He gets stopped often by fans or people who’ve read his work, it happens at least once a day and Izumi really doesn’t… she doesn’t understand, poor girl.

- He’s not that good with phone calls, he’s not bad but he definitely prefers texting or just talking face to face. To him there’s just a certain level of discontent he doesn’t like that doesn’t exist in other mediums.

- His favorite shows are either comedies or heavy hitting detective shows, there is no inbetween. You’ll walk in on him watching a sitcom leave the room and walk in on a serial killer chase down.

- About his love for detective shows, his favorite pastime is trying to solve the mysteries with the main character. He’ll rewatch the episode so many times to try and pick up clues, he’ll take notes and come to a conclusion and he loves the feeling of getting it right.

- In the same spirit as the statement above, absolutely got Tsumugi and Sakyo hooked on some of his favorites and they hang out to talk about the latest episodes and the overarching mystery. The conversations can tend to get kind of heavy very quick, more than once Muku thought they were investigating a real crime and almost fainted.

- He looks like he’s probably allergic to wool sweaters, they make his skin itch and he always needs to use a shirt underneath them - so he tends to buy those expensive anti-allergic ones that need to be washed in a very specific way that could probably pay Tsuzuru’s whole college debt and it takes a lot of restraint from the playwright not to steal one and sell in the black market.

- Talking about Tsuzuru, he often gives him writing advice. Said advice tends to be very useful, like keeping a pen and notebook on him in case anything comes to mind during the day or writing daily to help ease him into a style, etc. Homare genuinely wants him to bloom into a writer and is willing to beta-read anything Minagi needs, be it a script or a sleep deprived rambling about the gay subtext in Nocturnity.

- Arisugawa sets himself reading goals each month, he likes to read at least one book. He prefers poetry books or classic english literature, but he also likes to read romance books or really bizarre dystopian novels.

- Has read more books than most people in the company and can give very detailed recommendations if you give him like a day.

- Sings operas in the shower, unless stopped he will keep going until the second act. Surprisingly good falsetto, but one time Tenma thought it was a Banshee for a second and almost cried into Juza’s chest.

- He’s not only an overly emotional drunk but also a loud drunk, he’s already quite loud but when he’s downed half a bottle of wine and a shot of vodka he’s louder than the Summer Troupe combined. Because of this, Izumi tends to restrict his alcohol intake when they’re at the dorm.

- I can see him being very big into musicals, not all musicals but a very specific niche; classic horror novels turned into musicals. He’s a very big fan of both the German and Korean versions of Dracula, his favorite song is probably “Zu Ende” or the Korean version of “It’s Over”. He also likes the Frankenstein musical too, but overall he finds Junsu’s Dracula more interesting thus his preference.

- He will talk your ear off if you mention any musical though, be it a classic like Phantom or something newer like Heathers.

- A very big fan of Ghibli movies, he told me so himself today. He really likes Spirited Away though, it’s a movie he’s watched so many times but he’s still completely enamoured by it; he probably has made the Winter Troupe watch it at least once and Hisoka definitely knows the beginning of the movie by heart now.

- Homare is also really good at drawing, not like Kazunari but he’s probably the second best. He learned by analyzing and looking at artists he admired and picking up on their techniques. A true Renaissance Man™️.

- I feel like he’d also have a bunch of skills that are kind of, useless? He can probably carve wood and make candles, he also took a course in glass blowing probably. Arisugawa just wants to try everything at least once, his motto is probably to explore and learn as much as possible, not just about art but the world (he can be surprisingly smart if you have a dictionary at hand).

- Very observant, just in general. Which can be both good and bad, it’s good because it helps him understand the situation in ways others might not but it leads to him to sometimes overthinking things and behaving in manners which may annoy or hurt others.

- He also has a hard time trying to react to social cues, as seen in game, with certain people. While he’s worked it out with the Winter troupe and the Mankai company he still struggles when it comes to new people.

- Will make little tunes he sings in the shower that kind of become a little daily song, each day there’s a new one he’ll hum.

- He also canonly makes music and he makes contemporary electro-pop, you cannot change my mind. He probably also mixes opera and classical music into his tunes, which can go from 1 minute to 10, so you end up with a very cool mix of orchestra and techno-pop - it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but he’s probably got his own niche group.

- Now, into more romantic HCs...

- He’s a good flirt, a very good flirt. They may sound weird looking back at it, but his pickup lines work and they work well.

- He knows when to stop pursuing someone too. He senses even a bit of discomfort and he’s backing away, won’t ask anything. Very big on consent and unless stated absolutely explicitly he’ll keep his distance.

- A true gentleman, please - he’ll never let his dates pay, always open the doors for them, will even do the “walk on the inside of the sidewalk” when he’s walking you home.

- His favorite dates tend to be ones where you get to know more about each other, not always necessarily by talking though. Being able to go into a bookstore and look at the books, seeing the ones you pick, what you pick at a cafe or restaurant, it all helps him draw a better picture of who you are and he likes to think it helps you get to know him better too.

- He’s very in tune with his S/O’s feelings but is afraid of overstepping any boundaries which may lead to some miscommunication at the beginning of the relationship. But it’s workable and it wouldn’t be that big an issue in the long run as long as his partner is willing to help him understand them.

- Not big on PDA, thinks certain things should remain inside - not to say he wouldn’t talk for hours about his partner to anyone who listens but things like kissing or hugs tend to be behind closed doors. He’s okay with hand holding and maybe a kiss on the cheek though!

- Likes wearing matching outfits with his S/O, thinks it shows how they’re “one in spirit, heart, and mind” and will not stop pointing it out to the point even married couples feel single as they hear him ramble on about the subtle coordination in your color schemes to create a perfect contrast.

- Notices the smallest things like how much sugar you like in your drinks, the telltale signs of when you’re lying or uncomfortable, how you act when you’re too cold or too hot, and learns it by heart.

- Homare is also the kind of boyfriend who’d confront the waiter if they get your order wrong, he’s not ashamed of it either.

- He kind of just wants to make sure you’re doing well and happy, he’s a gentleman.

- Damn… I love him so much

#—🎀 a3!#a3!#a3 #act! addict! actors!#act addict actors #homare arisugawa #homare arisugawa x reader #a3 homare #a3! homare #a3 homare x reader #a3! homare x reader #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #a3! fanfiction #arisugawa x reader #winter troupe #—✒️ sora’s scripts

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pars-ley · 4 years

Text

Our Little Secret

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Summary: A relaxing spa session ends up being much less therapeutic than you imagine but you get much more than you thought possible.

Genre: One shot / smut / masseuse au

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Warnings: Swearing / Slight dirty talk / Slight exhibitionism / Detailed finger foreplay / Slight female cumplay / Soft dom Tae / Twist ending

Word Count: 3.3k

Notes: This was written for the ‘A Long Hot Summer’ project by @thebtswritersclub. The member I picked was Taehyung and the sense I chose was touch, seeing as his hands are such a kink for many people, I thought I’d feed you all. This is my first collab and I’m both nervous and excited for it. Enjoy!

Thank you to @ditttiii for beta reading, you’re a queen. And thank you to @kooksies-stories-and-tales for the amazing banner, you worked really hard to make sure I was happy, you always have my appreciation boo. Thank you @aroseforyoongi for helping with where to take this story and letting me talk your ear off about it.

As you sit in the waiting room with your legs crossed, casually flicking through the pages of a women’s fashion magazine, you can almost feel the tension rolling off of you in waves.

Your shoulders feel tight enough to snap, desperate for some attention and aching to be kneaded. You slowly roll your head around, stretching the muscles in your neck to try and give yourself some relief.

“Miss L/N? Taehyung is ready for you.” The receptionist announces, smiling much more than you would think possible. Her mouth stretched wide, her teeth like piano keys, straight and ivory white.

You toss the magazine back onto the coffee table and stand, grabbing your bag and following, as you dubbed, ‘Miss Smiley’ along the corridor. She shows you to the room, giving you her fake saccharinely, sweet smile once again and heads back off to the front desk.

You knock lightly and wait.

“Come in.” A deep voice drawls out.

You push open the door and head over to your new masseuse, whose back is to you as he meticulously rolls up a grey towel.

He turns as you approach. “Hello, Miss L/N, very nice to meet you. My name is Taehyung, I'm new here and I’ll be taking over for Cho.” He offers his hand to you. You take it mechanically, his grip firm but not overly so. You open your mouth to respond but can’t find any words forming for you to speak them, they get suffocated in your throat and swallowed down.

No, no, no. This isn’t going to work. I need my sweet, lovely Cho back or any other female masseuse on the premises. I cannot work with someone this...stunning. It was as though the angels themselves had carved every perfect, symmetrical line of his face.

The boxy smile he gives you; enough to melt your insides and turn your legs to jelly. His eyes, so warm and inviting, chocolate pools you can’t help but be captivated by them. You find yourself smiling in return but also becoming acutely aware of how much time is passing without you saying a word..

Come on, get it together.

You swallow your panic and get a grip on yourself. “Please, call me y/n.” Your voice sounds surprisingly even, making you relax a little.

“Sure, if that's what you prefer.” He nods, smiling, his expression a little strained and a little awkward. It’s only then, as you glance down, that you realise you still have his hand gripped in yours like a vice and are shaking it a bit too vigorously. His perfect, large hands are strong, with long slender fingers clasped around yours, encasing them in a caressing cage. Flawless.

“Sorry,” You laugh nervously and release him from your grasp, as you feel a slight warmth creep into your cheeks, staining your skin like pink roses in spring.

He smiles reassuringly. “First time with a male masseuse?”

You exhale with relief and laugh, mainly at yourself. “Is it that obvious?”

“A little. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable and make your way to the table? I’ll be back in a few moments.” He exits the room swiftly, leaving you with your racing heart and manic thoughts.

How can I get naked in front of a man like him and be comfortable? With those perfect hands about to glide across my skin like a ship across water. How can I possibly be comfortable with that kind of masochistic torture?

You shake your head, hoping the movement will clear your mind and shake loose your impure thoughts. You hang your jacket on a hook and sit down to remove your shoes.

Stripping your garments off one by one and laying them in a pre-placed basket until you’re left bare as the day you were born, you then climb onto the massage table. You lay on your back, placing the thin sheet over you up to your armpits and try to control your breathing as you look up towards the ceiling.

You focus on the relaxing sounds you can hear playing out of the speakers, akin to wind chimes, a sound that you have always loved. Reminiscent of your childhood, of sweltering summer days sitting on the porch or playing out in the front yard. Your mother bringing out homemade lemonade, to cool you and your sister down, the sour, sweet taste setting flavour fireworks off on your tongue and making your cheeks pucker at the sharpness. The wind chimes a constant in the background.

A quiet knock on the door snaps you out of your calming thoughts and your whole body goes rigid as you call, “Come in.”

You hear him enter and listen as his quiet footsteps grow closer to you, your eyes still trained on the smooth, light ceiling, stretching out above you.

Feeling his warm hands on your shoulders and seeing his upside down face come into view, your body stiffens further under his touch. “Try to relax.” He smiles sweetly at you.

Your chest trembles from the thrum of your pounding heart.

I wonder if he can see it too?

“I’m going to start at your feet and work my way up. Just close your eyes and take slow, deep breaths for me.” He speaks slowly, something about his calm, rich voice and the soulful tone makes you feel like you’re melting from the inside out. This is going to be one interesting massage.

As you close your eyes and focus on your breathing, you hear him move down the other end of the table. You hear the sound of oil slick in his hands but still jolt slightly at his touch on your foot.

He starts off slow and gentle, the pressure perfect, just enough to soothe your aching muscles which today were extra tender. The feel of his soft hands gently caressing you sends shivers through you, a ripple of goose pimples cascades across your skin.

The feel of his long fingers, twining around your ankles has your core throbbing. Imagining...him holding me by them while he pushes himself deeper...No, I need to stop that.

You squeeze your thighs together slightly, just to provide you some relief to the pulsating that is increasing between your legs.

“Relax.” He whispers.

His strong grip, travelling further up your leg and gliding firmly along your thigh, your bare crotch feels exposed even with the cover, as your arousal blossoms with each punishing movement like the flowering buds at the start of springtime. When he almost reaches your centre, his fingers mere millimetres from grazing your folds, you have to bite your lip to hold in a whimper.

God, I can’t take much more of this.

The massage continues on, tortuously slow, and time seems to stand still.

The worst part is, when he moves onto your top half, feeling his soft fingertips graze along the swell of your breasts. Your heart seems to stop in your chest before it starts violently knocking against your ribs, the throbbing in your core vibrating to the same swift rhythm.

You meet his eyes at that point but wish you hadn’t, when he gives you an upside down smile that only pulls up one side of his mouth in the sexiest way, even from this angle.

You are relieved when you can finally turn onto your stomach, not being able to see his face definitely helped. The torture begins again as he starts at your feet and works his way up your body with his gruelling pace.

Your hands grip the towel by your head for so long your fingers ache, transforming into stiff claws, but the ache in your core is incomparable and desperate to be sated with his touch.

His fingers are like magic, his touch so soft and caring, that even through your anxiety you can feel your muscles are lighter and less painful than before.

When his fingers smooth along the skin on the back of your thighs and his fingertips skim your folds. You freeze.

That had to be an accident, surely he didn’t mean to go that close.

You wait with baited breath as his hands climb slowly back up your legs, but what you're expecting, doesn’t happen. You hate to admit the tinge of disappointment you feel as your body relaxes slightly and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

The frustration you feel is immense, you’ve never been this turned on by someone before, and you have to refrain from grinding your painful crotch against the massage table.

His thumb slides silkily up the inside of your leg and a shiver runs up your spine as his fingers lightly slither their way along your moist entrance. Your eyes trained at the tiles on the floor, as arousal makes you quiver under his touch.

He must be doing that on purpose!

You discreetly open your legs wider, giving him access, if that was what he was searching for.

His oiled hands find their way under the sheet and caress your buttocks, softly kneading your cheeks, before finding their way back down to your throbbing crotch.

He skates a finger over your entryway and you have to bite your lip to hold the moan you feel rising.

You want to angle your bottom up in the air so he can see and touch every part of you but you resist and stay flat and unmoving as a slab of concrete.

Your heart pounds violently in your chest, from fear and thrill both. This is so wrong, this shouldn’t be happening and you definitely shouldn’t be encouraging it but it feels so good, that you can’t stop yourself.

He slides a finger in between your swollen folds until he finds your clit, where he delicately traces circles with his oiled fingertips.

You let out a moan and his mouth is instantly by your ear, breath tickling your skin. “You’re going to need to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”

You bite your lip and nod.

“Good, now turn over.” He whispers.

You do as he says, feeling somewhat bashful that he can now see your face.

He flips the sheet off, exposing you completely, a fresh shudder flows through you, and as he does he pulls his full bottom lip in between his set of perfect teeth.

“You are beautiful.” He says, as his eyes roam over your body and most intimate areas. A harsh blush spreads from your chest to your cheeks and the urge to cover yourself is almost overwhelming but he doesn’t give you the chance. His hands are on you, spreading your legs open and pushing your knees down onto the bed. You are wide open, receiving him like he’s returning home from a long trip, welcome mat positioned and ready. So eager and trusting to this stranger you hardly know.

He slips a finger inside you making you gasp, and you clutch your hand over your mouth to stop any more noise from escaping.

“You’re so wet. I could see it pooling out of you. Such a dirty girl.” He leans down to whisper.

His thumb finds your swollen bud, while he slides a second finger in your heated core. Pleasure shoots through you like a bullet, making your body jolt in response. You throw your arm over your face and bite the skin to stop a sinful moan from echoing through the room.

“You were praying I'd touch you, weren’t you?”

You nod eagerly, unable to open your mouth for fear of screaming his name. You can feel the build up already there, your insides coiled and ready to spring. He hooks his fingers inside of you, and slowly beckons repeatedly over the sensitive spot that makes your toes curl.

You feel yourself clench around his enchanted digits as your core melts and grows even hotter at his skilful movements.

“That’s it, good girl, cum for me.” He whispers, deep and sinful into your ear, his breath caressing your neck, sending delicious shivers down your body. His command is all you need to heighten the intense, throbbing build up of your orgasm and is enough to cause your body to unravel wildly around him.

White light consumes your vision as your legs jolt and your back arches off the table, sucking his fingers into you even more as he pushes them inside to help ride out your spasming climax. Pleasure vibrates through you with each contraction, descending over you like waves, capturing you and pulling you under.

He clamps a hand over your mouth to stop the unholy sounds leaving your body but his action makes your eyes roll into your head from the sheer dominance of it.

As your core stills and your body relaxes, he gently withdraws his slick covered fingers. He admires them, glistening under the light.

“I wonder what you taste like,” He says, as he brings them up to his lips; licking and sucking your cum clean.

Heat returns to your stomach fast and hard. You were still heavily panting but your body is already eager for more.

His eyes roll and he lets out a satisfied moan as he tastes you and licks his lips, as if he just devoured a delectable three course meal. When he catches you clenching your thighs together, his mouth stretches into a devilish grin enticing you into the pits of hell through the gates of pleasure.

“Y/n wants more, already?” He raises a questioning eyebrow at you.

“Ummm.” Is all you can coherently reply with your dry throat and breathless lungs.

“You are a dirty girl.” He moves down to the end of the bed, stalking you like prey. He grabs your ankles and slides you down to him. He then pushes your legs apart, his face serious, and eyes hungry.

He dips his head lower, his mouth heading straight for your soaking folds. Your breathing spikes from the anticipation of how his full lips and boxy mouth will feel against your greedy cunt. He continues lower at a torturous pace, your eyes fixed on him, his beauty, his allure. Everything about him draws you in, entices you, overwhelms you with his charm and for a moment you wonder if this is how Eve felt before she took a bite of the forbidden apple.

Your core throbs violently with need, waiting to rejoice in his oral pleasure but suddenly his head withdraws and he straightens up at the end of the bench.

“Our time is up for today, y/n. But if you’d like we can continue this another day.” He says, back to his professional tone, as if he wasn’t just about to eat your needy slit like his last meal.

Your mouth pops open at him.

How can he do that to me? How can he be such a tease?

You sit up and close your legs. “Are you kidding?”

He smirks at you. “I’m afraid not.” He leans in closer. “If you’re a good girl and be nice, then I’ll book you in and I’ll take extra good care of you.” He winks. “It can be our little secret.”

You bite your lip and sigh. Fine, I’ll play along.

It’s only then you notice his erection creating a tent in his trousers and you moan, sliding forward on the bed so you’re almost crotch to crotch with him.

“Are you sure you can’t fit me in now? Or fit in me, should I say?” You flutter your lashes up at him as you smile coyly.

He bites his lip, clearly torn. “I would actually love nothing more than to fuck your tight, needy pussy here on this table but I do have another client.” He gives you an apologetic smile. “What about when I get off work?” He asks, hopeful, almost as desperate as you feel.

Your mind goes back to him torturing you with the promise for more and as hungry as you were for him, you didn’t want the fantasy of what happened here to be over, just yet.

“I can’t tonight I’m afraid. It’s ok, I can wait for our next appointment. Next week, good for you?”

His expression pained as he squeezes your thighs. “Ok, I deserve that. Next week it is.” He takes your hand and brings the back of your fingers up to his lips, where he places a warm, chaste kiss against them. When his lips part, the area feels cold.

He adjusts his trousers and tunic before nodding at you and leaving the room.

You jump down off of the table, your limbs wobbling underneath you, and your entire body feeling drained.

Slowly, you get dressed in a haze of satisfaction mixed with frustration, a unique combination to you, as you gather your bits and leave the room. On your way back to the reception desk, you feel lighter than air, a slight spring in your step as though you were bouncing along a fluffy cloud.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the scary, smiley receptionist.

How can one person smile this consistently, it’s the work of sociopaths?

Taehyung stands waiting at the desk, beaming his perfect set of teeth your way in the shape of his boxy grin.

“Thank you, for trusting me today.” He says, sweetly holding a hand out for you to shake again and giving you a knowing smile, a twinkle in his eyes keeping your secret safe.

You oblige and can’t help admire his flawless hands again.

God, there wasn’t a blemish in sight. “No, thank you. You definitely have magic hands.” You say without thinking. You are shocked to see his cheeks turn pink and you revel in the sudden change of power between the two of you.

“Thank you, well, I,” He coughs and glances around the waiting room. “I hope to see you again soon, y/n.” He says. You give a nod and another polite smile as he heads quickly off to his therapy room again.

You book your following appointment and tap your card on the payment machine, giving an awkward wave as you push through the heavy doors.

You’re surprised at yourself, the turn of today’s events hadn’t made you feel shameful or embarrassed like perhaps you should.

I just paid to cum, I paid for a sexual service, something I never thought I’d do. Ever.

You shrug it off, after what transpired in that room, there isn’t a doubt in your mind that it was one hundred percent worth it and the promise of more to come was even more thrilling.

After your journey home, a buzz you’ve not felt for a while, clouds your mind and pulls you into constant daydreams. You take a shower to wash the oil and arousal off you, hoping it will help clear the fog in your head.

As you walk into the living room, in nothing but your towel, and take a seat on the sofa preparing to veg out to some crappy T.V., the sound of the door clicking open interrupts your thoughts.

“Hey baby, how was your day?” You ask, rapidly flicking through the channels in search of something mindless.

Fast footsteps close the distance between you, as your husband's frustrated face rounds your view. He slams onto his knees and rips the towel off of your skin, the cooler air hits you making your nipples pucker instantly.

“Don’t ‘hey baby’ me.” He snaps. “I had to work the rest of my shift with an erection and thinking about the taste of your pussy juice.”

You smile seductively at him. “Tae, you have to admit, it was worth it though.” You stroke your fingers through his hair, fresh arousal blooming at the delectable sight of him between your legs for the second time today.

“Hey, that was your fantasy, not mine, you know I’ll fuck you anywhere I can, my new workplace clearly being one of them.” He pushes your legs apart and stares in wonder at your delicate center, as if it holds all life’s answers. “Now, shut up, so I can eat this pussy till you scream.”

A/n: Feedback would be appreciated!

567 notes · View notes

yeojaa · 4 years

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finders keep hers, iii.

read parts one and two! the long awaited conclusion! i’m sorry it turned into a friggin’ novel. i hope it does the first two parts justice, though. these kids are... idiots. i love them and you (and also the best beta reader @hobi-gif)! 💖

pairing. jjk x named f!reader. rating. explicit, ofc. tags. this is... really soft at certain parts. and then really raunchy at others. oops? but fr - mainly fluff with some smut at the end. you might need a filling. wc. 5.4k.

You’re buzzed into the building without a moment’s hesitation, the kind concierge with the gummy smile and greying temples beaming at you as you enter. “Nice to see you, Miss Lee.”

“You too, Mr. Choi.” A grin of your own is offered, gym bag hiked higher over your shoulder as you pause to chat. You’re in no rush. “Is he home?”

“I don’t believe so.” The sudden look of disapproval that colours the older gentleman’s features is almost comical, reminiscent of a disparaging parent. It’s the same expression you’re greeted with nearly every time you visit. “He left in a town car yesterday afternoon and I don’t think he’s been back since. That boy’s going to get himself in trouble one day.” As if Jungkook didn’t already - as if it didn’t follow him around, glued to the bottoms of his Italian leather shoes.

“Tell me about it.”

“You know…” There’s that twinkle in Mr. Choi’s eyes again - the one that tells you he’s about to repeat the same words he always does when he catches you alone. “A nice girl like you could get him to settle down.”

Your response is what it always is - a scoff and a laugh rolled into one. It careens off your tongue, ringing in the spacious lobby. “I don’t think anyone will ever get him to settle down.”

How true that is, you’re not sure. For your sake, you try not to think about it too much.

The old man is undeterred though, shrugging his narrow shoulders beneath the neat uniform he wears. It’s a little loose in the chest but immaculate otherwise, tie knotted in a classic Windsor and collar ironed perfectly. He levels you with that shrewd stare of his but says nothing further, simply engaging you in an unspoken staring contest.

Sometimes, you wonder how much he sees. How much he knows .

You break before he does, tearing your gaze away and blinking rapidly. He laughs, full bellied and deep from the chest. “Get on upstairs, Miss Lee.” You aren’t offended by the dismissal. “It’s always nice chatting with you.”

You remind yourself to bring him chocolates the next time you’re by. The ones with hazelnuts, because those are his favourite. A fact you only know because you’ve helped your best friend pick up a box for him every Christmas, writing the card and having him sign it right before it gets left behind the desk.

Actually, you helped Jungkook with a lot of things. Always had. It was simply the nature of your friendship - passed down by your parents and forged stronger by childhood playdates, your fair share of teenage squabbling, and college hangovers so bad they’d created an unbreakable bond.

Whenever he would need you, you’d be there - whether that meant picking him up at 4 AM from the airport because he wanted “some shitty fast food and to see you” or helping him pick gifts for Mother’s Day. There was no task too small, no moment too inconsequential.

Unconditional love, they called it.

It’s why you have no problem swanning into his apartment with the extra key you’ve had since he moved in, kicking off your trainers and tucking them neatly alongside the rows of black leather and expensive sneakers.

You do so much for him that you take where you can, indulging in all of the luxuries you’ve never been afforded. Unparalleled view, stupidly expensive toiletries, a damn jacuzzi tub .

You pull your sweater over your head - truthfully, one of Jungkook’s from college that you’d never felt inclined to give back - and toss it over the back of a barstool on your way into the guest suite. Your bag follows shortly after, deposited at the foot of the bed that exists as a rotating welcome mat to your and Jungkook’s circle of friends.

The rest of your clothes - sports bra, shorts, thong, socks - are stripped, folded, and tucked into the laundry bag you keep handy. You know you could leave them here and Jungkook’s housekeeper would take care of it, but you’ve never been too comfortable with that. Different upbringings.

The spray is like sweet relief the moment you step beneath the rainforest shower. It’s the perfect temperature and pressure, melting the sweat and tension from your bones.

But it isn't why you’re here, so you make quick work in the glass enclosure, scrubbing your body bare and lathering and conditioning your hair into a squeaky clean mess. Any other time, you’d just spend a good half hour standing beneath the head but you’re feeling particularly indulgent today.

Call it a spa day, courtesy of one Jeon Jungkook.

You don’t bother to dry off, water splashing across the floor as you step from the shower and sink into the spacious tub that overlooks the heart of Seoul. Diptyque bath oil encapsulates the room in a bubble of sweet almond, similarly branded candle burning on the ledge. The jets release a steady stream against your tired back and legs, massaging your limbs into jelly.

You can’t help the sigh of utter relaxation that rolls off your tongue, sinking into water in the same instance your shoulders do.

This is what dreams are made of. Anyone who says differently is an idiot and a liar.

“When are you going to tell her?”

You’re not expecting the voice and it breaks the silence like a thousand pound weight, shattering the calm and nearly startling you enough for you to knock your head on the edge of the tub.

There’s no reason for you to be surprised. Not really. This isn’t your home, after all. You aren’t entitled to any sort of privacy.

It doesn’t matter, though. The discomfort in your chest is unfolding regardless, lodging rocks in your throat.

Because it’s a female voice. Lilting, soft, draped in familiarity. Not someone brand new.

Your heart stutters at the realisation. The rush of blood against your eardrums is so loud you momentarily wonder whether they can hear it all the way in the living room. They must be able to - it’s practically deafening. You can’t even hear the rest of their conversation.

Their conversation .

Which seems to have ended, leaving only silence.

You suddenly remember your shoes, your sweater. Traces of you littered throughout the apartment that isn’t yours. God, you’re an idiot. He was going to kill you - or she was. You’re not sure which is worse.

You’re reaching for the fluffy white towel on the rack when you’re scared near half to death yet again. This time, by your best friend who cuts an imposing figure in the doorway, broad form resting casually against the frame. He looks surprisingly unbothered, curls pushed back from his forehead by a pair of sunglasses and arms folded over his chest.

“Jesus!” The shriek comes four octaves higher than it normally would, pitching into the open so loudly you wince. “You scared me!”

You can’t help the way you peek past his shoulder for a sign of the girl he’d brought home.

“Enjoying yourself?” There’s something amused dancing in the darks of his eyes, his mouth curving around the same emotion as he steps into the bathroom. You’d be bothered if he were anyone else, unnecessarily long legs carrying him to you in three strides.

“I didn’t know you were home.” You can’t quite meet his stare, still far too distracted by the mystery woman. Had he left her on the couch? Maybe his bedroom as he snuck you out? What excuse could he come up with?

“Didn’t know you were home either.”

He’s made himself comfortable right on the ledge of the tub, marked fingers dragging lazily through the still-scalding water. He doesn’t seem terribly in a rush. That puts you on edge.

Was he going to hide you in here?

“I wanted to relax after my run.” You don’t owe him an explanation - not really - but you offer it anyway. You figure you need to, when you might’ve ruined his Sunday morning romp session. You can’t bring yourself to address it, though. The words just won’t come, sitting on the tip of your tongue like thorns. It hurts to swallow.

Jungkook doesn’t further the conversation - a first for him. He’s normally a chatterbox.

The silence stretches on. Suffocating.

You force yourself to speak, staring down at your hands that are slowly pruning beneath the water. “Should I… go?” The way it comes is feeble, soft, uncertain. You hate it.

By the look of surprise on his face, he does, too. He cackles suddenly, like a goddamn witch. “Why?”

Heat floods across your cheeks. You wish you could blame it on the bath or the steam that still collects on the mirrors. It pulls high over your ears, colouring them tomato red and embarrassed. Surely, he knows why.

When he repeats himself, it’s harder, without any of the laughter from before.

Rather than answer, you wave a hand through the air, fingers wiggling. The universal sign for you know . It should be enough - you hope it’s enough. Your ego won’t let you verbalise it.

“Suddenly mute, baby?”

It isn’t quite mocking - teasing, maybe - but it stokes the fire that burns in the pit of your stomach and licks uncomfortably at the organ in your chest. You don’t even look at him as you nearly spit the words, petulant and far more bothered than you should be. “You’ve got a girl here.”

A laugh that isn’t quite a laugh comes, swathed in velvet and coloured blue. The effort you make to not shoot him a glare is herculean.

He’s still snickering when he speaks. “You mean my sister?”

“Your sister?” It’s more surprise at yourself that has you whipping to look at him, bewilderment tossing all other emotion out the window. Because his sister was practically your sister. How had you not recognised her voice? You feel silly all at once, the embarrassment from earlier fading into reticence.

“Yeah. I spent the night babysitting the twins.”

You sometimes forget how much Jungkook loves children - especially his sisters’. It’s hard to reconcile the family man he effortlessly transforms into when he spends most of his waking hours playing the perfect part of unaffected bachelor.

“How are they?” You ask because you care - you adore Minseo and Minhyuk - but also so you can move the conversation along. The last thing you want to do is dwell on your mistake.

“They’re good. Getting big.” He’s got that smile on his face - the one that’s softer than any other, with deep lines at the corners of his eyes. Reserved especially for the people he cares about most. Your favourite sight. “You can come with me next time. Minnie asked about you, anyway.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest.

Being liked by peers? Great. Being respected by your superiors? Rewarding. But being loved by children? It was in a league all its own - better than ice cream on a hot day.

“Sure.” You can’t keep the grin away.

That is, until he speaks again, circling the conversation back. “So, were you jealous?” His ability to piss you off is uncanny. It’s like it’s written into his genetic code, each molecule of his body tasked with ruining your day.

“No.” It’s meant to be a scoff. It’s not very believable.

“You sure, princess?” The fingers on your chin are wholly unnecessary - he’s got you caught in his stare, locked in place with nowhere to go.

“Yes, Bunny .” You know how much he hates the nickname, only tolerating it because it’s you. You can’t deny the pleasure that comes at the sight of his jaw tensing, muscle jumping in agitation. Just as he’s your weakness, you’re his, too. “Now let me finish—”

He cuts you off, sharp and unrelenting: “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Get out of the tub or I’m pulling you out myself.” Risen to his full height, he’s an imposing figure. Even worse, there’s something you can’t read in his expression - something that has your nerves firing wildly. Your heart rattles around in your chest, uncertain.

He leaves you without another word.

You scramble out of the bath as quickly as your confused limbs allow you, knotting the towel beneath your arms. You’re not quite sure what to do next, caught between pulling your clean clothes out of your workout bag and demanding an answer from your sphinx of a best friend.

What the hell was his problem?

Your impatience wins out as you’re tugging a brush through your hair, fumbling uncharacteristically through knots until you’re too frustrated to continue. You’re ready to tear into him when you storm out of the guestroom; you’ve got a barrage of insults on your tongue, proverbial gun cocked and ready to unload.

They melt away when you spy him on the couch, neatly wrapped bouquet laid across the coffee table.

“Come here.” It’s not a request so much as a demand - commanding and soft all at once. A small part of you wants to fire off a rebuttal; that part dies when he repeats himself, louder this time.

The seat you take beside him is begrudging, a good foot of space held between your bodies. You fiddle with the hem of your towel, turning a loose thread over and over your index finger.

“What?” It’s snippy, discontent - kerosene on the fire that burns beneath Jungkook’s skin.

“Watch it,” he retorts, though there’s no acid to his words. Frankly, he sounds more frustrated than angry, more exasperated than pissed off.

That makes one of you.

Only he can bring out this side of you - brusque and biting. “ You watch it, Bunny.”

Fingers find the bridge of his nose, a gesture you don’t see very often. Guilt blooms behind your ribcage as he rubs at the tension between his eyes. For someone who has it all, he looks like he’s a moment away from losing it.

“You’re a brat, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one,” you retort, not unkindly.

“You’re making this really hard,” he snaps in the same instant he all but throws the overwhelming bunch of flowers at you.

You nearly drop them you’re so surprised.

“What are these for?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Did I stutter?”

If you weren’t so busy studying the arrangement of florals, you’d have some witty comeback. As it stands, you’re preoccupied by the pretty bunch of peonies and tulips. You wonder what he’s done wrong - why he’s found it necessary to soften the blow with your favourite flowers.

Your thoughts drift back to his sister’s words: when are you going to tell her?

All at once, you want nothing more than to leave. You don’t want whatever heartbreak is about to come. You’re not ready for it.

“Listen—”

He cuts you off, again. “I love you.”

You’re not sure how your face looks. You imagine you could look up flabbergasted in the dictionary and you’d find a photo of your expression right now. “What?”

Jungkook won’t quite look at you, intently focused on an indiscernible point against the far wall. When he speaks the words again, they’re full of uncertainty - but not in the way you expect. The confession is as believable as any you’ve ever heard - he really does sound like he loves you - but somehow, it’s draped in dread and held aloft by hummingbird wings. “I love you.”

He’s nervous, you realise in amazement.

“Come again?”

He meets your stare then, brow knitting with unease. He doesn’t say it again, though.

“Are you messing around with me?” You don’t mean it how it comes - a little accusatory.

“I’m not an asshole.” Except both of you know he certainly can be. You don’t call him on it, though, opting instead to peer curiously at him, hands fisted around the bouquet in your lap. “I talked to my sister. She…” He shrugs once, an almost helpless roll of his shoulders. “She told me I was an idiot.”

You’re not surprised by that. Lina had always been the one to give it to him straight.

“She said I would lose you if I didn’t get my shit together.” There’s a bit of childish petulance that works its way into each syllable - he hates being told what to do. “Said I needed to tell you or I’d regret it. Which is stupid, because we’ve been best friends forever and she’s younger than me so what does she know—” He must realise he’s rambling, something he never does. “But—”

“But?” Quiet, hopeful, coaxing.

There’s a warmth in your chest - illuminating and golden and so bright it hurts to think about. It grows with each moment that passes, spurred on by the look in his eyes and how they find yours.

Hesitation pulls the silence a beat too long. The light wanes. You wonder if the moment has passed.

And then he continues, a little more earnestly. “Was she right? Am I going to lose you?”

You’re not entirely sure what he’s asking. You don’t think he even knows what he’s asking. You try to answer anyway, as honest as you can without pinning your heart directly on your sleeve. “You’ll never lose me.”

“You know what I mean.”

Did you? “You’ll never lose me.” You’re the one repeating yourself this time, just that bit harder.

“Then say it.” Again, not a request. A prayer, perhaps. Ardent and needy - a world away from the Jeon Jungkook you know.

You don’t hesitate. “I love you.”

He doesn’t either - upon you so quickly you don’t have time to blink or think.

How he kisses you now feels different. More . It’s like being consumed entirely - changed from the inside out in ways you never thought possible. Where he touches, sparks fly, filling you like stars in the night sky. Lava rolls over every inch, dragging heat and want and need from the soles of your feet to the tip of your nose. You’re gasping rather than breathing, clawing against the front of his shirt and twining your fingers into the strands that curl over his nape.

“You never told me you could kiss like that.” It’s lacking coherence, made by a partial inhale and wild, wondrous eyes.

His response is a laugh and another kiss, forceful and adoring and utterly devastating. “Shut up,” he mouths against your lips, tongue licking over your teeth and gums like he’s trying to memorise every inch of you. Hands follow in the same amorous motions, tugging and pulling and aching for you closer; the tips of his fingers sear white hot heat over your hips, the small of your waist, the delicate bones of your ribcage.

“I’m serious...” You really are - far more than you should be. You’d been missing out on this ? It’s incomprehensible.

The sound he makes is more of a growl, playful and resounding in the cavern of his chest. It rattles your own, sending your heart on a downward spiral into the pit of your stomach. His nose traces the column of your throat, soft lips guiding him further until he’s mouthing hotly over the bare skin of your shoulder. Tongue teases, delves ever so gently into the dip of your collarbone, and swipes back up, laving over the maroon that peeks around the edge of his teeth. You can’t help but keen, holding him so closely you wonder if you’re suffocating him.

“So am I.” Each syllable is punctuated by another nip, another nibble. It seems like his goal is to bloom roses across your skin - a wreath to welcome him home, made by his own touch.

You don’t mind.

“Say it again,” he demands, hopeful and unashamed from his place against your neck.

The admission comes easily, as if it’s always lived on the tip of your tongue. “I love you.”

“Again.” You’re not ready for the way he stares at you - like he’s never done before. Like he’s seeing you for the first time and he’s awestruck. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” Hands find the familiar contours of his face, thumbs brushing over the hollows of his eyes, over the beauty mark that sits front and centre beneath his lip. Each graze follows a repetition of the confession, as if you might burn the three simple words beneath his skin - write it into his DNA like he’s written into yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you, Bunny .”

He holds you close - so tightly it feels almost as if he’ll crush you - and captures your mouth again. It’s more gentle but just as lovesick. A thousand unspoken words spill from his tongue to yours, swallowed whole with greed you don’t bother to hide.

“I need you.” It’s whiny, framed by a pout that could end wars and paired with doe eyes so wide and innocent you almost want to roll your own.

“You have me.”

“Do I?” There’s a very deliberate roll of his hips, denim of his jeans rough against the exposed softness of your inner thighs, hands manoeuvring over the partially covered swell of your hips. The press of his fingers is purposeful, digging tension into every inch. As if he might transfer some of the unadulterated need that thrums through his veins, turning his heart to jelly and brain to mush.

“Since when do you ask?” You have a point.

“You’re right,” his grin is almost lazy, drawing over his mouth in a measured crawl. “Good girls just do what they’re told, right?” His grips tightens almost imperceptibly, holding you to him almost effortlessly. You’ve been in this position a hundred times before but it’s never been this easy - like breathing.

The gasp you offer is all mock affront, hand laid palm-down across your chest. You don’t miss the way his gaze follows it before ticking lower, unabashed in its admiration. “Are you saying I’m not?”

“Don’t know, baby.” The war on your neck has resumed, teeth traded seamlessly for the softer promise of his tongue, the dry brush of his lips. It’s almost sinful, garnering sighs of affection and need from somewhere low in your throat. “Want to be a good girl for me?”

You’re not quite used to this version of him - playful and needy and not nearly as demanding as usual. A part of you wants to draw out the side of him you know is there, hidden just beneath the surface; the other wants to bask in this, all feather soft and cotton candy sweet.

“Always,” you return, with a coquettish smile and fluttering lashes.

“Always,” he murmurs, tasting it for the first time. He sounds almost giddy when he repeats it once, then twice, then a third time for good measure. You think it’ll come again, laughter rolling off your tongue as you stare into the eyes of the boy you love. Instead, he speaks in a voice full of gravel and grit, all traces of your sunshine boy suddenly swallowed whole by the darks of his pupils. “Fuck - I can’t wait to have you.”

“Then what’re you waiting for?” You don’t need to push him. You like to do it anyway. It feels right .

“You’re the worst.” What Jungkook means is you’re the best and I love you and I’m going to fuck you six ways into next week . What he means is this is the scariest thing he’s ever done but it’s all right because he has you. What he means is thank you - and how he shows it is through worship.

On the way to the bedroom, he crowds every inch of you, holding you so closely you wonder if he’s trying to carve himself into your bones. He’s firm and unrelenting, balancing you against his chest as he smothers every available inch of your shoulders in sweet, sloppy kisses. He revels in the way you cling to him like you’ve never needed anything else.

In his bed, he lays you out and strips you bare. He offers devotion with every pass of his fingers, every trail of his tongue. He wants you so badly it’s hard to focus on giving you everything you deserve, but he tries anyway. He sucks love into your neck and over your breasts, pinching your nipples between his fingers until you’re panting and he’s aching for the same treatment.

On his knees, he prays at the altar of your body, taking his time to map the constellations on your skin, the memories written into each scar and dot. His tongue follows the raised flesh that sits across your hip - an unfortunate mishap from a schoolyard dare. You whine and he nearly cries, soothing over the sensitive spot with hands and lips and tenderness. He lays kisses on each freckle, each irregular mark. From your navel to your knee and everywhere in between, he caresses and comforts, turning those blemishes into stars.

He also teases - subtly, quietly, with wandering hands and focused breaths. You don’t realise it until it’s too late, your insides molten, your pulse a thunderclap in your ears.

“Jungkook.” It sounds more like begging than anything. Exactly what he wants.

“What’s up, princess?” Spoken so casually, as if he isn’t between your legs, long fingers tracing through the slick that coats your thighs. He gazes up from behind too long strands, all wide-eyed and terribly sweet - until he pops a digit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks around the taste of you. “Something wrong?”

“Stop teasing.” You hear yourself whine but it doesn’t quite sound like you, higher pitched and needier than you’ve ever been.

“I thought you were going to be good for me,” he returns with a tut and a push of that same finger deep into your cunt. He flexes it experimentally, beaming up at you when you clench around the intrusion that’s too much and not even close to being enough all at once. “You’re so wet, baby. I just slide right in.”

As if to drive his point home, he drives another finger in, scissoring them languidly to stretch you open. It’s such a pretty sight, messy and inviting. He can’t resist a taste, dragging the flat of his tongue over and around the fingers that continue to fuck into you at a faster pace.

“ Jungkook! ” You’re shrieking, bucking against the onslaught of sensations. A shapely arm immediately cages you against the bed, palm splayed across your hips.

“Stay still.” It’s a growl, teeth bared against the sensitive pearl between your legs. Words are punctuated with the softest pressure - a silent threat that goes no further. You wonder what he’ll do if he has to repeat himself. “Good girls listen, remember?”

You’re fumbling across his shoulders, nails digging crescents everywhere you can reach. You need him so badly it hurts . “Please.”

“Please what?” That patented, stupid smirk cradles his mouth, tongue peeking out as he stares at you expectantly. “If you’re going to be so demanding, at least use your words.” He watches the way your eyes roll back into your head when he slots another finger in with the others and curls them against that particular spot that has you seeing stars. The bastard has the audacity to coo at you. “What’s wrong, baby? Can’t speak?”

You’re near wailing, gasping and whining around words that sound like his name. Angry red lines sprout across his shoulders, his arms - demands carved into flesh.

He makes a sound, wistful and resigned. You think - try to think, beyond the pleasure that’s building steadily in the pit of your stomach - that he’s finally going to give you what you need. You’re almost crying for it, moisture crowding your lashes and threatening to spill over.

Then he withdraws, all at once.

You could scream. In fact, you do, red in the face and chest heaving. “I hate you!”

“No.” He’s upon you in an instant, insistent and terribly smug. There’s a playground in his smile, childish laughter spilling into the spaces between you. “You actually love me.” He noses at your neck, the heat of his palm searing against your side as he sighs almost dreamily. “Say it again.”

You answer him with something more than love - frustration and annoyance and so much devotion you can’t keep it out no matter how hard you try. “No.”

It’s a challenge more than anything. He knows it; you know it.

He accepts it readily, just as you expect him to.

“Say it.” Enamel presses steady, heavy, into the sensitive spot right beneath your ear. He mouths over the skin that blows out red and inviting beneath his ministrations, the firm press of his fingers gripping you without hesitation. You can feel the entire weight of him against you, length nestled comfortably against your core. He repeats himself as he rocks against you, dragging the swollen, leaking head of his cock through your folds with an agonising slowness that has you clenching around nothing. “Come on, baby.”

You’re keening, adjusting your hips and grinding against him. You still won’t say it, hoping to find a rhythm in the quiet that’s punctuated by your laboured breaths and his occasional laughter.

“Just say it and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give you everything. Promise, sweetheart.”

Framed against the late morning sun, hair spilling across his forehead in curls of india ink, he’s so handsome your heart leaps into your throat. “I love you.” It’s a wet confession, carried by a wave of emotion you don’t expect.

“I love you,” he echoes, sinking into you so gradually you feel like you’re caught in slow motion, all of your focus balanced on the tip of a needle.

It’s never been like this before. Each inch is a delicious stretch, filling you and claiming you. The drag is incredible, your walls fluttering around the intrusion and aching for more. You bite back a sob, digging into the wide expanse of his back with your nails as your mouth seeks purchase anywhere it can - over his jaw, up his neck, across his shoulders. He soothes you as he presses deeper, reassurances whispered against your temple.

“I’ve got you, baby. Let me make you feel good.” When he bottoms out, you demand more - somehow, somehow - locking your ankles against the small of his waist. He doesn’t miss the way you clench, so tight around him it almost hurts , when he says those three words once again. “I love you.”

His lips find yours and he brushes them over and over - a salve for the burn he ignites beneath your skin. It doesn’t matter that he’s both the calm and the chaos. Jungkook’s always been everything to you.

The rhythm he sets is unhurried and perfect. Each snap of his hips has his cock dragging against your walls, filling and stretching you so well; everywhere his skin brushes yours, you’re alive. There are a million nerve endings going haywire beneath your skin, flashing bright as holiday lights.

That’s what it’s like - Christmas morning . Picture perfect and filled with wonder.

He’s completely smitten when he draws back just enough to see the entirety of you - your fucked-out expression, the rose-wreath he’s wrought around your neck, the sweat that beads between your tits and tempts him to duck his head. “I love you.” It’s almost hypnotising - watching you take him, pussy dripping and needy around his cock.

“I love you,” you parrot back - or try to. It’s not very coherent, driven to a point of nonsense when his hips begin to stutter and he makes up for the loss of rhythm by slipping his fingers over your clit in circle eights.

You’re at your breaking point. He knows - can read you like the back of his hand - and holds you there, back bowing to kiss you breathless, pressure unrelenting against the bundle of nerves.

“That’s it, princess. Right there.”

The coil snaps at the third pass and there are hot tears streaming down your cheeks, his name spilling off your tongue in tandem with the erratic thudding of your heart. White spots your vision, entire body electrified as you crash headlong into an abyss of bliss. You hear him join you with a hoarse whine, a mix of your cum slipping out of you as he rides out his own high with shallow thrusts, mouth open and panting against your shoulder.

The comedown is hazy, dusted in exhaustion and a thin sheen of sweat. When he slips from you, he doesn’t go far, tugging you comfortably against his side like you’re not both a little gross. It’s not the first time you’ve fucked but it feels different.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you, Bunny.”

You realise - it feels exactly like that. Making love.

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aonogifreactions · 3 years

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Prompt 70: “You’re perfectly welcome to kiss whomever you wa–” and 28: “Where’s all of your holiday spirit, you Scrooge?”

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Requested: Yes, by anon. Prompts here -> click.

Pairing: Rin Okumura/Reader, Yukio Okumura/Reader; separately.

Word count: 1,1k+

SFW.

Warnings: none.

Beta-read by a special fren! Thank you! <3

a/n: i apologize for yukio’s part being so short! i told myself “ill write a drabble for both of them” so i set myself a specific word count but then i wrote rin after yukio and accidentally went overboard xD under “read more” due to length!

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Rin: [Prompt 70]

The loud noise of plates being moved left and right, then spatulas hitting the bowls was surely the indication that Rin was there, doing a lot of things at once.

Doing things last minute was not a good idea - even if Rin's cooking skills were excellent.

That's why you, being a good friend of his - decided to help him out a little. He appreciated it greatly, thanking you in a hurry.

"Rin," you called him quietly, "why are you making so much food?" you mixed something in the bowl, concluding in your mind that it was probably the base for another cake. "Well, today's the Christmas party, remember?" he reminded you, smiling at you quickly and opening the oven; he scrunched his face up as the heat hit his face. "Oh, right!" you said a little too loud, earning a chuckle from him. "Have you got a present for someone? I know it's supposed to be a secret, but I wanna know!" Rin asked excitedly, taking out a cake from the hot oven.

Oh god.

You gulped nervously, "Uhm, ye-yeah, I have!" you stuttered, "A-anyway, am I doing it well?" you scolded yourself internally afterwards, because how the heck could you mess up mixing? Nonetheless, Rin walked up behind you, peeked past your shoulder, and - unfortunately for you - decided to tease you a little. He pressed himself against you, placed his hands on top of yours, and started to guide your hands with his own. You could feel his smirk on your neck as he spoke, "I mean, there's no way to mess that up. So yeah, you're doing it correctly. I hope chief Rin helped you to understand the mixing theory!" he joked, retreating back to the already baked cake, grabbing a knife and cutting it horizontally.

You blushed wildly, feeling your cheeks starting to radiate warmth. As you put the bowl away, you placed your hands on your face, trying to calm yourself down and avoid embarrassing yourself further. You shook your head, but the rapid speed of your heart beating in your chest couldn't return to normal - that is, until Rin distracted you from your internal panic. "Hey, could you bring me a bigger knife? This one is tragic, I can't cut it evenly with this one…" he sighed in annoyance, putting his knife in the sink. "Okay, sure, hold on," you tried not to stutter again; coming up to the drawer, you opened it and got the longest knife you could find, then proceeded to head his way. "Actually," he started, "I'll get it myse—"

Due to an unfortunate turn of events, you slipped on the floor, thus Rin, who was trying to get the kitchen tool, caught you just in perfect time, preventing you from possibly impaling yourself on the sharp knife.

"Oh boy, that was close!" He laughed awkwardly, "are you okay? I have no idea what was there, I literally mopped the floor yesterday…" Rin started to ramble, and despite wanting to thank him, what caught your attention was a tiny, green plant hung above your head.

A mistletoe.

Half-demon noticed your silence, so he also looked up; his face became crimson, and on top of that, he was still holding you. "I swear, I didn't do that! I don't even know how it got here!" He started to mumble excuses, while you gathered all your courage to finally make a move.

"Do you want to—" you started, "to uh, you know—" you said awkwardly, watching him. His face became even redder, "YOU MEAN KISS? I— You don't have to kiss me, in fact, you’re perfectly welcome to kiss whomever you wa–"

Your lips collided together in a sweet, yet somewhat awkward kiss; Rin kissed back after a few seconds, realizing what just happened. His lips melted against yours, and just as he was beginning to enjoy it, you pulled away.

To say the least, Kuro was satisfied with the outcome of the situation. He didn't mean to accidentally pee on the floor, but the same can't be said about the mysterious mistletoe that appeared out of nowhere. Either way, he was glad that his owner confessed his feelings to the person he loved; what's more, he was even more proud of being the partial cause of that.

However, he was now preparing himself mentally to get scolded for his poor bladder malfunction.

Yukio: [Prompt 28]

Flashing lights, obnoxious songs, and even worse - people singing obnoxious songs and freaking out about buying presents.

Yukio is certainly not a fan of that.

This is why he was currently scrolling mindlessly through various social media sites.

You, on the other hand - were carrying boxes - although light - full of christmas decorations. Your christmas tree stood proudly on the floor, but quite naked - the christmas balls, tinsels, and other ornaments, such as tiny reindeers or angels were yet to be added. Placing the boxes on the table, you sighed in content, your hands finding themselves on your hips.

Yukio remained uninterested, eyeing the boxes, then moving his eyes on you, "You know, I could help you with it. I know those aren't heavy, but still." he declared, leaving his phone on the table and stood up; to his eyes appeared round, silver baubles, as well as those that were in the shape of wrapped gifts, golden bells, penguins with santa hats on and candy canes. He looked at them wearily, raising both of his brows. "I knew we needed more christmas decorations, but was THIS much needed?" he grumbled, going through the box and muttering silent complaints about having glitter on his hands.

You fake-huffed, crossing your arms and turning your back to him. "Where's all of your holiday spirit, you Scrooge?" you answered, "and yes, THIS much was needed." Much to his dismay, he wasn't sure if this was just as a joke or not - fearing he might've hurt you, he suggested his help in decorating the christmas tree, to which you agreed excitedly.

Despite his previous thoughts, he really enjoyed accompanying you; yet, no matter how many times he's tried to find the reason of his entertainment, he couldn't figure that out - was it your happiness? that sparkle in your eyes when you turned the lights on or put some of the ornaments on the tree? Or maybe the holiday spirit has, in fact, gotten to him? Yukio didn't know; though, he noticed that you remembered his favorite animals, which surprisingly, warmed his heart.

Bright colors twinkled on his face, as the christmas lights on the tree were the only light in the room. They blinded him a little, but he didn't care. In reality, he liked it - he liked how it all turned out; he liked the christmas tree, he liked the obnoxious songs that played quietly in the background, and most of all - he liked, no, loved the joyful expression on your face, that told more than a thousand words.

Maybe christmas wasn't that bad.

#Ao no Exorcist #ao no exorcist imagine #blue exorcist #blue exorcist imagines #blue exorcist imagine #rin okumura #Rin Okumura x reader #Yukio Okumura #yukio okumura x reader #christmas prompts #Pure

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

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WIP Challenge Snippets!

Big thank you to everyone who requested something. I love hearing what ideas you all are excited for! I'll put each of the snippets below in alphabetical order. All but one are just dialogue - I'm currently at a point where that's all I have done for most of my WIPs.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, only smut fics were requested, so minors please DNI!

Hope you enjoy!

Centerfold*

I'm still unsure if this will be a mini-series or a oneshot. I have no freaking clue. Here's a snippet of dialogue, though! Starts with Derek.

“Alright kid, spill the beans.” “Did you know that phrase could stem from numerous possible practices? It could just be a reference to vomiting, but there’s an alternate explanation involving an ancient voting practice of dropping colored beans into a jar and—“ “Not gonna work on me, Reid.” “Fine.” (whispers) “That girl in that magazine? The ‘Vegas Vixen?’ I lost my virginity to her.” “You’re messing with me.” “No! I’m not! I swear that I am not messing with you.” “There’s no way.” “Would I make that up?!” “To mess with me? Yeah, maybe.”

Coquette*

This is a long work that has been heavily inquired about and a very long time coming, so here is a long snippet of dialogue to continue the trend. Starts with Spencer.

“Don’t sound so scared. I’m not going to tell anyone.” “I-I know.” “Do you?” “No. I just hoped not…” “What were you planning if I said I was going to?” “Where are we going? I never told you my address.” “I need to drive around in case someone is following us.” “Oh. That makes sense.” “Answer my question.” “I… hadn’t considered it.” “That’s a lie.” “Fine. I would make a deal with you.” “Tell me the deal. Maybe I’ve changed my mind.” “I won’t tell everyone how hard you got for me when I danced on your lap if you don’t tell them I’m a stripper.” “A tempting offer, although I’m not very ashamed of being turned on by a woman who’s made a career out of being tantalizing, Coquette.” “What’s your idea of a good deal, then?” “Hmmm… My silence in exchange for whatever you were willing to offer me before you found out who I was.” “What are you implying?” “I know a lot about that club… And that it was your first night in the backroom. But your nerves tell me you knew what you were there for.” “Are you seriously propositioning me right now? Through blackmail?” “You asked me what a good deal was, not what I would ask for.” “So what would you ask for?” “Your address. So I can take you home.”

H2M Epilogue*

This whole part makes me want to melt, but here is a funny dialogue snippet.

Derek: “Alright, I know you love to break rules, but Penelope made me doorman for a reason.” Reader: “You really want to pick a fight with me? On my wedding day? I know you know me, Derek Morgan. I know you know better than to stand between me and my husband.” Derek: “He’s not your husband yet, Princess.” Spencer: “Actually, we had a courthouse ceremony a few weeks ago, just in case something happened and we had to miss this ceremony.” (Reader tackles him as he walks up to the door) Derek: “Hopeless. And selfish. Penelope is going to kill me, you know.”

Lane Courtesy* (Franklin)

This fic is purely for my beta @sunlight-moonrise, but y'all can read it if you want. Starts with Franklin.

“Maybe it’d be easier if you bought clothes that fit.” “I think I look pretty good in what I’m wearing. And I think you think so, too. Besides... it’s all in the wrist, anyway. You wanna see?” (She grabs his ball, he grabs her arm) “Don’t worry, babe. I’m good at handling men’s balls.” “Oh, I bet you are.” “Plus, I promise I’ll give them back to you after.”

Practice Makes Perfect* (backburner)

This is a very old original idea I had. I'm not sure if/when I'll ever get around to it - if anyone wants it, I'd love to hand over the dialogue I have so far. Here is a snippet regardless! Starts with Spencer.

“Hey (y/n), what—" “Spencer! Can I come in?” “C-come in? Into my room?” “Uh... yeah.” “But you... you’re... you’re dressed like a...” “A stripper, yeah. Are you going to make me stand out here like this longer?” (He lets her in) “Is there something I can do?” “Can I dance on you?” “What?” “I want to give you a lap dance. Please.” “A lap— why?" “Who else am I going to ask? Hotch? Please, Spencer. You’re the only person I trust.” “Trust?” “Please stop rephrasing everything I say as a question.”

Shortbread (Chip)

Love me some Sub!Chip. This is honestly probably on the backburner. I've been in a very Spencer mood lately. Starts with Chip.

“Can I ask you something?” “What’s up, sweetheart?” “Why are you so nice to me all the time?” “What do you mean?” “You don’t really know me. But ever since I met you, you’ve always just been nice to me. I mean, I know you’re nice to everyone, but it feels…” “Different? It should.”

Seatbelt Safety* (Chip)

Gosh, this fic is so short, I really need to just write it. Uber Driver Chip. Starts with Reader.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. I kind of needed to act a bit crazy.” “Why?” “I was trying to get out a super awkward date.” “By running into the street?” “Trust me. It was a bad date.” “Oh. Well, I’m sorry you had a bad date.” “It’s fine. You know how it goes.” “Not really. Haven’t had a date in a long time.” “Why is that?” “Idunno.” “Hm.” “What?” “You wanna go on a date with me?” “What?” “Let’s go on a date.” “... What?” “Most people say yes or no. ‘What’ isn’t very helpful. Is this why you can’t get a date?” “I can get a date! I just... haven’t been asked by anyone in awhile. And definitely not like that. That was weird.”

Study Session* (requested three times!):

I have a lot of this done already, so you get an actual sneak peek here!

“Listen closely, young lady,” he said like I had any other option. Like I wasn’t enraptured and enchanted by the feel of his warm breath once again hitting my ear. He could feel the way breath stuttered and my body stumbled straight into him with eager hands. I could almost feel his smirk against my ear when he concluded, “I would never... ever sleep with you.” And just like that, he was gone. He didn’t just drop me; he tossed me to his side like the very notion of being that close to me disgusted him. The desire that had been burning inside of my chest quickly shifted to rage. He could pretend like he didn’t want me, but there was no other justification for bringing me out to the back in the first place. There was no reason to allow me to confront him, nor for him to discuss my sex life in any manner at all. Seconds after we were both inside again, I grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him back to me. Surprisingly, there was very little resistance. It was almost like he was waiting for me to do it. I tugged him into the small, dimly lit bathroom without a care in the world for who might have seen us or what whispers might follow. Spencer was already laughing, apparently amused by anger rolling off of me. “Say it again,” I ordered through heavy breaths, “Say it to my face.” I’d prepared myself for a number of responses — most of which were varying levels of humiliating. What I hadn’t prepared for, however, were the words that actually came out of his mouth. Casually, and without question, Spencer ordered, “Get on your knees.” He was so calm that I felt like it must have been a trick. It took everything in me not to fall to my knees, and instead I managed to ask, “Why?” His answer was equally unhelpful and alluring. “Because I said so.”

The Agent Assigned to My Webcam*

This is a beast of a fic, so it'll also be a while. There were so many parts I could show you, but I thought this one was the most thought provoking.

Reader: “Wait! Sorry, I-I... uh... Can I see your ring?” Spencer: “... Sure.” Reader: “Thanks. What did you say your name was?” Spencer: “I didn’t.” (He leaves, she follows him into the empty hallway) Reader: “Do I know you, Doctor Reid?” Spencer: “No.” Reader: “Are you sure?” Spencer: “I could ask you the same thing.” Reader: “Drop your pants and I’ll tell you exactly how sure I am.” Luke: (walks in) “Sorry. Am I... interrupting something?”

That's all for now, folks!

Thanks for reading. If you feel so inclined, let me know what you thought about any of the above here!

#spencer reid smut #sneak peek #h2m

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moonbeambucky · 3 years

Text

A Wealth of Love

Pairing: Hal Carter x Reader Word Count: 5618 Warnings: fluff, light angst

Summary: The only thing Hal Carter is wealthy in is love but will his forbidden romance last when his past comes back to haunt him?

A/N: This is my submission for @baezen The other guys writing challenge. My prompt was “Those things you said yesterday…Did you mean them?” Thank you to my love @all1e23 for beta reading 🍕❤️ pic source (x)

Bright sunlight streams in through the windows made brighter by the all white finishings of the large kitchen. This particular afternoon is a hot one, more humid than the last few days and Y/N knows that not everyone can enjoy the comforts of her family’s perfectly air conditioned home.

A quick search through the cabinets and she finds two large mason jars. Pulling open the fridge she takes out the pitcher of lemonade and in the oversized pantry she pulls out the container of muffins she made earlier that morning. She hums a tune mindlessly as she fills one jar with lemonade, nearly startled by a voice behind her.

“Is this really necessary Y/N?” her stepmother asked, with frustration laced in her tone.

Y/N is quiet as she sets the pitcher down, screwing on the lid and making sure it was tight. With a quiet roll of her eyes she resumed what she was doing.

“At least you aren’t using the good glassware.” Y/N ignored her snippy comment, having learned not to engage her in conversations like this.

She sets her items in a basket, filling the other mason jar with ice as the final step before she leaves through the backdoor, finally letting out her own frustrated huff when she was no longer in earshot of her stepmother.

Y/N walked down the freshly manicured grass of the expansive acreage to get to the large white barn where Hal Carter was hard at work. He was the stable hand and has been working for Y/N’s family for almost two years.

Hal was six feet tall, with strong arms made stronger every day by the work he does. The outline of his muscles could be seen through the plaid button downs he would wear and sometimes take off on the days when he was already overheating in thick jeans and boots. A gentle smile accompanied beautiful blue eyes and soft brown hair that would start to curl when sweat soaked his strands.

Y/N liked seeing Hal, not just because of how incredible he looks as sweat shines over his body- the image of him lifting his shirt to wipe at his brow, exposing a perfectly carved stomach will forever be seared in her mind- but because he’s kind to her and he doesn’t expect anything from her unlike the rest of the world.

Her father doesn’t understand Y/N’s silly little dream of being a teacher. She had just completed her first year of having her own class and honestly he had hoped the whole ordeal had turned her off. He doesn’t see the point of working anywhere that pays so little and she’s tired of having arguments with him about forgetting his own roots, busting his ass with two jobs and still barely making ends meet until he found success with a patent which launched his business. He would scoff at his past, ashamed of the fact that he wasn’t born into wealth like his wife.

Unlike her father who felt she should be at a job earning a lot, Y/N’s stepmother didn’t understand why she wanted to work at all. If it were up to her she would have her married off to William Archer III. He was an investment banker who also came from money like Y/N, having attended the same private school but that’s where their similarities ended.

Y/N was disgusted by his attitude and how little William cared for anyone other than himself. He was a spoiled rich kid that hasn’t worked a real day in his life and never would. His company was his father’s as it was his father’s before him, and the only thing William was actually good at was profiting off the backs of those who work ten times as hard at a fraction of what he makes.

William constantly pursued Y/N because she turned him down. He liked the challenge, thinking of her as nothing more than game to be hunted, another one of his hobbies that Y/N despises, but instead of mounting her head on the wall he’ll mount her on display around his arm as a picture perfect trophy wife.

Hal was surprised by Y/N’s refreshing demeanor from the start. He knows his role as staff but unlike the rest of her family Y/N has never made him feel less than. She was a kindhearted soul and quite frankly sometimes he doesn't believe she’s actually related to them.

The first time Hal met Y/N he was cleaning out one of the stalls in the stables. He took a moment to pause and wipe the sweat from his brow, nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw her standing there. She was beautiful, there was no doubt in his mind about that, and even more beautiful as she stood there flashing a radiant smile as she apologized for scaring him. She was coming in to check on one the horses, Percy, to see firsthand if his stomach issues had gotten better.

The smell alone in the stables was enough to keep her family away but Y/N didn’t mind at all, grabbing a manure fork of her own before Hal had the chance to protest so she could inspect the droppings herself.

“He’s doing much better now Miss Y/L/N,” Hal said. She took note of the slightest hint of a Midwest accent in his voice though it was mostly undetectable.

“I’m so happy to hear that,” she beamed, setting the fork aside and stepping forward to see the horses enjoying their day on the open lawn. She spotted Percy grazing on the grass and her heart lifted, glad to see that he was doing better. “Oh, and it’s just Y/N,” she said, looking over her shoulder back at Hal.

The formality her parents required from those they employ is not for her. Y/N knew they were privileged to have a group of people working for them, in the house and on the grounds; but Y/N always felt her parents would forget that these people were actual humans with lives that didn’t and shouldn’t revolve around their family and not robotic slaves meant to carry out all their wishes without complaint.

Hal gave a respectable nod to her, curbing his smile to a professional one as he excused himself back to work.

Their interactions increased over time, especially with Y/N spending a lot of time with her favorite horse Penelope. She liked to brush her down and bring her apples she picked from the trees on property, and whenever they went riding Hal couldn’t take his eyes off her.

When Y/N was saddled up on Penelope’s back it seemed like it was the only time she truly felt in control of her life. It was true. Riding allowed her the time to clear her mind and with the wind in her hair she let go of everything outside of that moment.

But there was one thing that she couldn’t shake from her thoughts, Hal Carter.

It didn’t take long before for their friendship to develop and quite soon after a forbidden romance. It was something they worked hard at, deleting texts right after sending them, hiding their pictures together. Y/N’s stepmother had a tendency to snoop so she did everything she could to protect their relationship.

Hal tasted the lemonade from her lips, his calloused hands wrapped around Y/N’s waist, backing her up towards the wall to steal more of the sweetness he couldn’t get enough of and he didn’t mean the drink.

Her lips were soft against his, a heavenly touch that set every part of him aflame. The idea of sneaking around made both their hearts race, every noise keeping them on edge with “what ifs” racing through their minds. If they were caught Hal would surely be fired and though they wouldn’t have to hide their relationship any more that’s not something Y/N wanted.

Hal rarely spoke to her about money; she understood and didn’t push the issue. She knew his financial situation wasn’t the best and that despite her parent’s attitude towards the staff they actually paid them surprisingly well. It wasn’t something he ever flaunted but it wasn’t something neither of them could deny.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel like all of this could slip away from him, that one day Y/N will wake up and realize what a big mistake she made. She could date anybody, someone her parents’ won’t turn their nose up to, someone who could afford to take her out. Not even to a fancy place because Hal knows she doesn’t care about that but he’s ashamed he can’t even take her anywhere.

“Darlin’, you deserve everything.” The corner of his lips sunk into a frown as he sighed, “And I can’t give you that.”

“Hal, I have everything and I don’t want it, I only want you.”

He was shocked by her admission, still finding it hard to believe. “I’m nothing Y/N. I have nothing. I’m lucky I even have this job.”

She brushed the hair away from his eyes, letting her hand move down cup the soft skin of his cheek, warm against her palm. “What do you want Hal? You don’t have to work for my family forever. Whatever’s holding you back I’ll help.”

He smiled, taking her hand off his cheek to kiss the delicate knuckles of her skin. She knows what he’s doing, changing the subject when he doesn’t want to answer. Again, she doesn’t push him.

“Follow me,” he said, letting go of her hands.

They walk along the fence of the pasture, down the slope of a small hill before they stop at a bright red maple tree. Hal adjusts Y/N to stand in the right spot, his solid frame behind her, leaning in as he points his finger up between the branches.

“Can you see?” he asked, and she tried to follow the line of sight for his finger.

She isn’t sure what she’s looking for until she sees it, the slightest movement of a robin moving its head, spying on them from her nest.

“She’s been sittin’ on those eggs for a week now,” Hal said, smiling because he knows Y/N’s love of animals is not just for horses. They’ll be hatching soon and he can’t wait to bring her to see them.

If this is what their dates are for now then Hal doesn’t mind it at all. Any time spent with her he’s grateful for but Y/N knows she’s been gone for too long and knowing her stepmother she probably set a timer the moment Y/N walked out of the door.

Back in the stables she packs up the empty mason jars and reluctantly says goodbye. Hal holds her close as they kiss, the slip of his tongue in her mouth makes her yearn for more. A soft hum bubbles in her throat before she grabs the back of his head, deepening the kiss as their tongues dance together.

They get carried away and Hal falls back into a pile of hay, protecting Y/N in his arms as she falls on top of him. With a final press to his lips she gets up, extending her hands out to Hal to pull him up. He helps wipe off any hay that may have gotten attached to her, watching her figure get smaller the further she walks away from him as she makes her way back to the main house.

With a heavy sigh Hal gets back to work, knowing for now their secret is kept by the horses, the only ones who seemed to be rooting for them.

“What took you so long?” Her stepmother scowled, throwing her a sharp accusatory glare.

Y/N rolled her eyes, opening the basket to take out the mason jars. Over her shoulder she responded, “You know how I like to spend time with Penelope.”

As she washes the glasses Y/N can’t see the disapproving shake of her stepmother’s head, especially as she sees a strand of hay stuck on the fabric of Y/N’s leg. She doesn’t say anything. The clack of her heels echo through the large home as she stomps her way out of the kitchen, not liking this one bit.

Y/N comes down the grand stairway when dinner is ready, her hand languidly gliding down the banister. It’s not that she didn’t want to eat with her parents, she didn’t mind their company as long as they didn’t pester her about the things that parents do, but she was tired of seeing them.

Going away for college had been a wonderful escape, to be Y/N Y/L/N, regular college student and not the girl with a rich family. Her father was right, teaching does not pay well but she isn’t doing it for the money. However she did need to save a bit so she could move out and finally be on her own. She had assets in a trust fund but she refused to use them, wanting to prove to her family that she didn’t need their money.

“There she is,” the somewhat familiar voice of a man called out.

Y/N lifted her head, frozen in shock to find William Archer III sitting at her dining table.

A cheshire cat smile stretched across her stepmother’s face. “Look who came by!” she feigned surprise. Y/N knew her stepmother had called him the moment she left to see Hal.

There was plenty of space at the table but most of the chairs had been removed, leaving only one open and unsurprisingly it was next to William. Y/N plastered a smile to her face and held the back of the chair, moving it as far away from him as she could before she was scolded by her stepmother. It was embarrassing, especially when her father chimed in to remind her that they don’t treat guests this way. If only they knew what he was really like. Reluctantly, she returned the chair to its spot next to him though she kept a greater distance than where it was originally.

Y/N wondered if she was the only one who noticed the way William would speak wildly with his hands, these big gestures that involved movement of his whole body giving him an excuse to adjust his chair again and somehow he had ended up right beside her. She ignored him as best as she could, moving her leg away each time his hand “just happened” to brush against her thigh.

She tries her best to be pleasant despite the very unpleasant circumstances, making small talk when William didn’t talk over her.

“Hal says the robin chicks will be born soon. I can’t wait to see them,” Y/N beamed, her smile fading as she caught the tail end of her stepmother’s eye roll.

“Oh, I didn’t know Hal was an avian expert now. Honey perhaps we should give him a raise, a man with such an extensive animal background,” her stepmother said sarcastically.

“That’s because he is one!” William chimed in, bursting out with a round of belly aching laughter, a duet with her stepmother’s own cackling.

Y/N expected that from her but she was even more disappointed to see her father snickering.

“That’s enough!” She slammed her hand against the table, the flame of the candlesticks wobbling back to a steady flicker. “I’m sick and tired of all you thinking you’re better than Hal or anyone else just because you have money. It’s disgusting.”

Her father clenched his jaw, “I know you like to forget this Y/N but you have money too. Stop acting like it’s something you’re so ashamed of. I worked hard to give us what we have.”

“Did you?” she asked accusingly. “Because it’s been so long since you had to bust your ass like Hal I think you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a decent person!”

Her stepmother balked in disgust. “Young lady you do not speak to your father this way.”

Y/N ignored her as she got up from the table, stomping her way out of the house. The evening air was cool and she felt immediate relief on her skin that burned hot after her emotionally fueled eruption. Her stepmother has always been a snob but she hates the fact that her father has lost touch with reality.

“Hey.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose upon hearing William’s voice, the last person she wanted to ever see. Hal was in the distance, working late and she was hoping to say goodbye to him before he left. Now that William’s here she can’t.

Turning around she huffed, not hiding her contempt. William’s hands were up in a small attempt to convey that he wasn’t looking for trouble.

“Are you okay?” His tone seemed sincere but Y/N kept her guard up. “I know you don’t like me but I do care about you Y/N. I always have.”

She knows better than to trust him but something inside her breaks and she lets out a shuddering sob. Y/N didn’t want to feel the way she does about her parents but she can’t help it. She wished her parents were better people, she wished she could openly speak to them about how she feels, and not having to hide her relationship with Hal. She wishes things were different.

William hesitantly offers a hug and in desperation Y/N takes it, crying against him. “It’ll be okay,” he comforts, rubbing her back.

With her back turned she doesn’t see the smirk on William’s face as he spots Hal in the distance. He lets Y/N pull away, feeling comfortable enough to have gained his trust for a moment before he acts. Like a leech he grabs her face, forcing her lips to his, his tongue probing forcefully into her mouth.

Y/N is pushing him off with her hands as best as she could, scrunching her face and whipping her head around to get away from him. Her efforts don’t take her very far as his lips get closer again so instead she kicks him in between his legs.

William doubles over in pain. “You little bitch!” he sneered, grabbing her by the hair as she tried to run away.

His clenched hand raised to her but immediately felt his arm wrench back. He was turned around forcibly by Hal, whose own fist socked William right in the jaw. The hard punch took the coward down and while he was busy screaming expletives Hal went to Y/N.

“Darlin’, did he hurt you?” The softness of Hal’s voice brought tears to her eyes that fell down her cheeks as she shook her head. She found true comfort in Hal’s arms, apologizing for what had happened. “Shhh, you have nothin’ to apologize for,” he reassured her.

“You’ll pay for putting your hands on me y-you… dirty lowlife scum!” William threatened, walking away from them.

Hal’s jaw clenched with anger but Y/N’s gentle palm caressing his cheek made him release his tension.

“I’m sorry Hal,” she said, and once again he stopped her but this time with a soft kiss to her lips. Y/N had nothing to be sorry for but on nights like this Hal felt sorry for her, thinking she wouldn’t have to go through this if she gave her heart to a better man than him.

There’s a knocking at her door and before she can get up her stepmother has already let herself into Y/N’s room. “We need to talk about what happened...” she said, settling down on Y/N’s bed beside her. Y/N braced herself for a lecture before her stepmother finished. “...after you left.”

Relief washed over her believing the serious look on her stepmother’s face was not meant to scold her but about what happened with William.

“I hope you saw what I’ve been telling you, William is–”

“William? Y/N no, this is about Hal.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed with confusion. “Hal?”

“He assaulted William. Your father and I need to reconsider his employment.”

She stared at her stepmother in disbelief. Was she actually naive enough to believe what William told her? Y/N answered her own question as her stepmother continued to talk about “poor William” and how he had to drive home holding a bag of ice to his face.

“William is a liar. He forced himself on me! Hal was only trying to protect me. How do you not see this?”

Her stepmother took Y/N’s hand in her own, awkward and unsure if this felt right or not. She was unable to have children of her own and perhaps that’s why she treated Y/N so poorly from the start, resenting her and never truly accepting her as her daughter. Y/N was passed off to au pairs and maids to be cared for as her stepmother went shopping or to the spa. Y/N has always felt disconnected to her stepmother and even more so now.

“Sweetheart, I know men like Hal. They’re fine to look at but they can’t provide for you, not the way William can.”

“You don’t know the first thing abou–” Y/N’s cheek stung at the unexpected slap she received.

“Don’t tell me what I know because I know exactly what you’ve been up to with Hal. Stay away from him. Hal is not the one for you.”

Y/N rose from her bed, stomping as she paced in front of her stepmother, waving her finger in her face as she told her off.

“I’m leaving. I’m going to get Hal and we’re leaving and there’s nothing you can do about that!”

“He isn’t here.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed at her stepmother, her nostrils flaring, teeth clenching together as she hissed, “What did you do?”

“Nothing! He asked for the day off, though his days are numbered. As soon as we find someone to take his position…” her stepmother said without hiding the joy in her voice. She sauntered out of Y/N’s room feeling proud, not giving a single care she broke down crying.

Her vision was clouded by tears as she texted Hal, wondering why he didn’t tell her he wouldn’t be there today. It took a few hours for him to respond, every waiting minute adding to her anxiety but when he finally did she was able to take a deep breath. Hal reassured her that he was fine and wondered if she could meet him later.

Y/N told her family she was going shopping as she headed out, instead she drove to Hal’s. They were only twenty minutes apart and yet they lived in such different worlds. The homes in Hal’s area were older, small ranch style houses on lots smaller than her home’s driveway. She had so much more than this community and yet they had everything she wanted.

She sees a dog being walked by a couple, hand in hand as they stroll down the sidewalk not worried about hiding their love. Y/N comes to a stop in the street to let the children playing move to the side. She gives a friendly smile as she slowly rolls past them, seeing their happy faces in the rear view mirror. She wonders if anyone can see how she aches behind her smile, desperate to be as happy as them one day. She parks behind his truck on the street and texts that she’s there.

When Hal came to New York he was sleeping in his truck, desperate for a place to stay. His friend Peter offered him a room which Hal helped close off and renovate into an unofficial one bedroom apartment in the back of the house. Peter needed the cash to pay his mortgage so it worked out for both of them.

Y/N had been over a dozen times but Hal was embarrassed every time she did. His place was small but he kept it as nice as he could. He didn’t have much furniture, a bed, a pretty beat up looking couch, a small table that barely fit in his small kitchen. She told him over and over how she didn’t care about material things and deep down Hal knows that but he can’t help those feelings anyway.

She runs into his arms, enveloped by his warmth as he squeezes her tight. “I missed you darlin’,” he cooed as he tips her chin with his fingers, pressing his lips to hers.

“What happened today?” Y/N can’t help the worry woven through her words.

He takes her by the hand and they sit on his bed; he never liked Y/N sitting on that dirty couch of his.

“I had something to take care of today… for our future.” She looks at him with hopeful eyes. “I had some trouble in my past, surprised it didn’t catch up to me yet to be honest. Once this is over I can work anywhere, we can live that life we want darlin’.”

Tears roll down her cheek, their path altered by the curve of her smile. Hal’s thumb brushes them away gently, bringing his lips to her forehead and after the softness of her lips. Clothes are slowly discarded and Hal takes his time making love to her, joining her passionate cries with moans of his own as they peak together to the heights of bliss.

He cradles her in his arms, his fingertips grazing soft circles over her back as they lay together for as long as they could, knowing Y/N would have to leave soon. The time comes sooner than they wanted and with reluctance they get dressed.

A knock at the door startled them both, the sound of a voice even more shocking.

“Y/N! I know you’re in there!” her stepmother taunted, banging roughly against the glass pane of the screen door.

Her jaw dropped open in shock as she could only think about what a psycho her stepmother was. “Did she follow me?” Y/N whispered to Hal, panic washing over her.

There was no point in hiding anymore, not if her parents really were firing Hal, and if that was a bluff they most certainly would now.

Hand in hand they proudly step out from his door onto the small pathway on the side of the house. It’s there when Y/N’s jaw drops in shock to see William standing beside her stepmother, the two of them standing shoulder to shoulder with two police officers.

“That’s him,” William points at Hal, a smug look plastered on his face.

A man as tall as Hal took a step towards him, roughly separating his hand from Y/N’s as he began to cuff his hands behind his back, reading him his rights as he walked Hal towards the police car parked crookedly in the driveway.

“What are you doing?” Y/N pleaded for an answer.

William answered her question, informing Y/N that Hal had a warrant out for his arrest for auto theft in Kansas. She realized that’s what Hal must have been talking about.

“I have friends everywhere Y/N and I will make this harder for him unless…” William tried to lace his fingers with hers but Y/N quickly snapped her arm away.

She watched helplessly as Hal was stuffed into the back of the car, wiping away the tears that began to fall. Her stepmother sauntered up beside her, making some comment about how appalled she was that she had a fugitive working for her, that’s when Y/N snapped.

“Enough! I don’t give a shit what you say. Fugitive or not Hal’s a better person than you’ll ever be. I love him, I love him with every piece of my heart and I’m going to do everything in my power to stop this.”

The car drove away with Hal craning his neck around, not knowing if he would ever be able to see Y/N again.

“Hal! Are you okay?” Y/N said, hugging him with all her might.

The breeze on his skin felt nice but it was nothing compared to having her in his arms again. “Much better now darlin’,” he replied, squeezing his arms around her.

Hal spent the night in jail, calling Y/N to ask for her help. He explained everything, that back in Kansas he had borrowed his friend Alan’s car to take a girl named Madge out on a date. Alan’s jealousy got the best of him and he reported the car as stolen. They haven’t spoken since.

Once Y/N got Hal’s call she contacted her attorney, sought out every Alan Seymour she could find before she narrowed it down to the one he went to college with. She spent all morning working with the attorney to have him stop the extradition proceedings and arrange for bail instead. She couldn’t think of a better thing to use the money from her trust fund on.

“I’m so sorry about all of this darlin’, I never meant for it to come out like this. Alan coulda taken it back then but he was still mad ‘nd probably worried about lyin’ to the police.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for Hal,” she assured him, cupping his cheeks with her hand. He pressed against her palm, his lips pulling into a small smile as he looked at her. “I can’t believe my stepmother had you arrested. I hate her. I hate my father. I hate what they’ve become. Let’s go away together.”

As the words fell from her lips every part of Hal’s body stiffened with worry. He was about to ask a question before Y/N interrupted him.

“I’m done with them Hal. I don’t care how hard I have to work to put this behind us. We’ll get through this together because that’s how I want to spend the rest of our lives.”

It was hard to hide the way Hal’s lips were pressed into a thin smile. He didn’t tell Y/N the full story, that Madge came with him when he left Kansas, to get away from her family too. By the time they got into Missouri she turned around, realizing she couldn’t leave them.

This was different though. Hal didn’t care if Madge came or not, he didn’t feel the same way about her as he does with Y/N, which is why this is so hard for him.

“Those things you said yesterday…Did you mean them?” Hal asked, holding her hands in his. Y/N nodded and Hal let out a sigh. “I love you too Y/N but I can’t ask you to choose between me and your family.”

Her heart skipped a beat but not in the way Hal had made it done in the past. This pain was sharp in her chest and she would have fallen down if Hal hadn’t been holding her. Those were the last words she expected.

“But you’re not asking Hal, this is my choice.”

“I know darlin’ but trust me on this, if we ran away we’d be happy but in the back of your mind I know how you’d feel, wonderin’ if your parents were okay because I know deep down you love ‘em and it would break my heart to see you tryin’ to cover that up. I can’t put that on you.”

“Hal, please…” she cried. “Don’t say this.”

This is the last thing Hal wants, Y/N is everything he’s ever wanted in life but things were always too good to be true for him. He was doing this for her even though it hurts, because Y/N deserves the best.

“I love you Y/N, more than anything in this world. I know I can’t ever repay you for gettin’ me out, and I know your parents think I’ll never be good enough for ya but–”

“You’re wrong son.”

A familiar voice has their heads turning around to find Y/N’s father standing there.

“Dad? What are you doing here?” Y/N was confused, unaware of the way she took a protective step in front of Hal.

“I came to bail out Mr. Carter but it seems you’ve already done that. I wanted to tell him that Mr. Seymour has been contacted and he will be revoking his initial claim.”

“Sir, I appreciate that but I can’t ask anything of you,” Hal began.

“You didn’t have to. I owe you an apology for my wife’s behavior. She was wrong and after I heard the truth about what happened with William I owe you a thanks as well for protecting my daughter.”

The corner of Hal’s mouth turned upwards as he replied, “You don’t have to thank me for that sir, I would take a bullet for Y/N if it meant she’d be safe.”

“I can see that. You’re a good man Mr. Carter, a hard working man that reminds me of the person I was a long time ago.” Her father shares a look with Y/N, nodding his head ever so slightly. “And I see the way you love my daughter, that makes you good enough in my eyes.”

Her father extends his hand towards Hal who is hesitant at first to shake it, waiting for the other shoe to drop but the sincerity in the eyes of the man before him sets his mind at ease. The two men shake and soon enough Y/N is back in Hal’s arms.

The weight is lifted from their shoulders knowing they have her father’s support, not only in Hal’s defense but in their relationship. Hiding is in the past and Hal couldn’t be happier. The truth is no matter what he told Y/N before Hal knew he wouldn’t have been strong enough to let her go.

As Hal held Y/N in his arms he vowed to never again feel ashamed about material things he didn’t have because Hal was rich where it counted, in his heart.

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