#sorry white i forgot your name for 2 seconds

[barbatoskisser]

Whoecer cooked this pizza tonight deserves millions of dollars

Real rn

I love whoever they are this is the best pizza ive had in years (i usually dont eat pizza nor like it)

[gutsby]

Cry, Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel fucks you to the point of tears. That’s all.

Warnings: 18+. Dacryphilia (kinda). Unprotected p-in-v. Girthy, unspecified age gap. Daddy kink. Jealous Joel.

Notes: Sorry for using pussy pronouns. It will happen again.

Joel Miller was a man of few words in most every place except the one where he found himself about to beat the brakes off your pussy. Then he never shut the fuck up.

“Uh-huh…just a little more…I know, sweet girl, I know.”

You had your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel of his ‘71 Ford F-100, but rather than driving anywhere, your ass was comfortably parked on the front of his jeans—straddling his lap backwards while you rubbed your half-clad cunt over stonewashed denim. It was hell.

You’d been grinding against the bulge beneath those jeans so hard, and for so long, your white cotton undies had parted to the side, and your pleasure was nearly stretched commensurate with just how pathetic you felt.

Your head dropped between your two hands on the black molded plastic of the wheel, and you let out a whine.

“Joel—”

“Keep goin’.”

“This ain’t fair!”

Without hesitation, the hands that were holding your hips tightened their grip, and now Joel was raking your lower half over his. Rutting your core back and forth.

“You wanna know what ain’t fair?” he seethed.

He didn’t wait for you to answer.

“How much she’s been droolin’ over me all night.”

‘She’ meaning your unfucked cunt, of course.

Joel then punctuated his sentence with a particularly hard press of his palm—forcing you to lay flat on the steering wheel, hips tilted back to him. With just one callused finger of his other hand, he found you soaked between your folds. He dragged it from your clit to your aching hole, and you heard him sigh, as though sad.

“It’s a cryin’ shame,” Joel said. Lamenting.

You were almost lost to the sensation of his finger rubbing you up and down, but somehow, you managed, ‘W-W-What is, Joel?’ in between soft, plaintive sounds.

Sometimes you forgot how much older he was than you. Sometimes you said he was just like the boys your age. Other times he had you pinned like this, breaths calm and cruelly measured while you damn near came apart beneath his hand, and then you remembered everything.

“You just couldn’t wait ‘til we got home,” he grumbled.

Using the same hand he’d been stroking you with, Joel laid a quick slap to your cunt, and you jumped. Your head narrowly missed the roof of his truck; still, you groaned.

“‘M’sorry, Joel,” you keened.

You weren’t. The old man knew you weren’t.

The hand that had been splayed over your back sank in. The force of that push pressed your belly to the chipped Ford logo at the center of the steering wheel, and with the added pressure went the blare of the car’s horn.

The sound might’ve lasted two seconds before you scrambled back, desperate, into Joel’s broad chest. A couple old-timers making their way from the bar to their cars in the parking lot cocked their heads curiously in your direction a couple yards away. Seeing nothing of note, they lost interest just as quick and kept walking.

“Sorry for what?” Joel said.

At the moment, he didn’t seem to notice, or care, that his truck was parked a mere stone’s throw away from the Tipsy Bison, and bar-goers were milling freely between the building and the cars all around you. His belt unbuckled all the same, zip came down in a blink, and his thick, veiny, throbbing, and angry cock came to rest between your cheeks. He started to push you forward.

“Sorry for— for flirtin’ with Tommy,” you stammered, sucking in a breath when you felt him run the head of his cock between your lips. You could hear a soft squelch.

“And Lucien?”

“And Lucien.”

“And—”

“And Dieter, and Frankie, and Javi, and Marcus.”

Rattling off the names of all the men you’d been flirting with at the bar to make Joel jealous and take you back home to fuck you became an embarrassing chant.

“And?”

“…and Mayor Garcia,” you completed, sheepishly.

Back in there, you hadn’t been too proud to stoop to a politician’s level, even. That was how needy you’d been to get attention, and now Joel was giving it to you.

As hard as he could—he didn’t wait for the ‘OK’ before seating you on his cock. You were simply pulled back from the wheel and into his lap, onto his stiff erection, and before you could steady yourself, he started drilling.

“Even through these panties—” Joel tugged at the cream-colored cotton he’d easily slipped past, “—even through that slutty little skirt, I could feel how wet she was.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, and your hands found purchase in the torn-up leather of the seat, fisting strings and patches of fabric in a helpless sort of plea as Joel took over. With the buttons of his dark green flannel searing a stripe down your spine and his grey-speckled chin coming to nudge between your neck and your shoulder as he fucked you, you felt content. Secure.

Spilling more for him, then. Seeping rivers down the length of his shaft as he breached your walls and made you his all over again. And again. Leaving trails of arousal with every thrust, and rolling your head, limply, into his.

“She cryin’ for me?” Joel breathed, “Or somebody else?”

As if on cue, his cock hit the most sensitive ridge inside you, and you felt yourself gush even more. Dripping now.

“You.” Your voice was raw.

“Me?” Joel’s degradingly sweet.

Before you could answer ‘you’ once more, the driver’s door cracked open beside you both. For one panicked, terrifying second, you thought someone from the bar might’ve caught you two—then you were stunned to look over and see it was Joel’s own tough, steel-toed boot that had propped the door open to the cool night air.

The truck was facing the bar’s front door, shielded only by some foliage and a hatchback car about half its size. Other than that, you were exposed to whoever happened to pass by the big, bay window and take a look inside.

Joel felt you tense, and he pressed a kiss to you neck. Then he slid you carefully, almost tenderly, to the left until you were perched over the side of the seat with your legs dangling out of the truck—still filled to the hilt with his cock and pressed tight to the front of his chest.

“Cry a little more,” he urged.

Then, when your pussy gave an involuntary clench and drenched him some more, he slipped a hand around your front and started toying with your clit. Your gaze was wide, almost frightened as you stared ahead at the bar and saw patrons making rounds about the tiny place, fearing one might see you and Joel, but it felt so good. And wrong. And reckless, having this man who was easily decades your senior bouncing you up and down on his cock and letting you soil the front of his Wranglers.

“Pussy’s fuckin’ soakin’ me, pretty girl,” Joel let out a chuckle and gave your shoulder a playful bite when you pulsed around him again, “Squeezin’ me real tight, too.”

It was like your body was beyond your own control. You scarcely even realized your cunt had him gripped with such force, much less made a mess of his old denim. He just held you to him and kept pressing rough, stubbled kisses to your shoulder, reminding you over and over how sweet you were, how well you were taking him, how nice and tight and goddamn pretty that pussy must’ve looked gushing around daddy’s cock—maybe we can fuck in front’a the mirror so we can see it later, huh, baby?

You would’ve said yes to anything he said, you reckoned.

Especially when his arms moved over your front and you felt him grin, and he hugged you while he fucked you—nobody made you feel quite as special while they were splitting you open. Nobody’s balls felt quite as heavy and firm and full while hitting your ass by turns, and certainly no one but Joel could make you cum just as quick when he leaned into your ear and said, ‘Let go for me, darlin’.’

You did, and you felt his warmth follow inside you with the friction of just two more thrusts. Your head fell back on his shoulder, a moan clawed out of your throat, and the warm, euphoric feeling of release washed over your senses in waves, one trembling sensation after the next. Joel’s groans were quick to spill into your own, and, likewise emptying himself, he held your hips to his and made sure every drop stayed right where he wanted it.

His spend was always heavy, but this load felt larger than usual—like he’d been aching to fuck you full of his cum. Just as you both were coming down from your highs, you couldn’t help but key in on that soft, sticky warmth, likely to come oozing as soon as Joel pulled out of you.

In fact, you got to be so focused that you jumped when you felt something press to your cheek a second later.

It took another moment to register it as a kiss from Joel.

Then his tongue, dragging softly up the side of your face.

You started to laugh, about to ask him what the hell he was doing, when you felt a tear slip out of your other eye. With the sudden, sharp influx of pleasure, the moisture had leaked out without you even feeling it. Joel grinned.

He gave your cheek a light squeeze, wiped the other tear with the pad of his thumb, and kissed you again before mumbling in your ear, almost teasing as he said it:

“Crybaby.”

[minarinnn]

girl dinner anon here please can I have more crumbs of Kunigami and Barou your writing for them was so good and I haven’t seen anything new for them in a while 😭🙏

I dunno if I want anything specific- maybe like breeding or something but you can do whatever your heart desires desires 🙏🙏🙏🙏

OMG I ENJOYED WRITING THAT SM NGL, this took longer than expected but honestly it’s bc i kinda forgot to post it so yh sorry for the delay lmao

content/trigger warnings: afab! reader, characters are aged up, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy kink, degrading, praising, groping, rough sex, implied size kink

BAROU

barou always pulled out. he didn’t mind it. there was never any real desire to get you pregnant. that was until he saw you with his baby nephew at a family event. the kid was around 2 years old and you spent almost the whole night fussing over him

you played, fed, and even cuddled with him. he saw his nephews sleeping figure in your arms as your soft hands caressed his back. he doesn’t know why but barou felt all tingly inside. he never had the urge to do it but the thought of you carrying a kid that looks exactly like him turned him on immensely

so when you get to your shared apartment and barou pounces on you, you think nothing of it. you’re like putty in his big, rough hands. you really couldn’t get enough of him

the way his dick stretched you out perfectly, bruising your cervix as you moaned out his name. your pretty nails scratching and leaving marks along his back while his heavy balls smacked against your ass

your eyes rolling back over his rough pacing that immediately makes you go dumb on his fat cock. his hands groping all over your body as he growls lewd things in your ears that make you clench impossibly harder on his dick

“it hasn’t even been ten minutes and you’re already dumb on my cock, huh? you pretty little slut” the words making you whine and your eyes water. “i’m gonna fuck my baby into you” he grunted, reaching deeper into your soaking cunt “you’d like that, wouldn’t you pretty?”

you nod, babbling incoherent words as your second orgasm washed over you, making you buck your hips towards him. “i’m’a make you a fuckin’ mommy” is the last thing he said before dumping his seed into your cunt, thrusting it deep into you, making you take every single drop

KUNIGAMI

kunigami has always been a big family guy so the though of having a family of his own always excited him. but when you said you didn’t wanna have kids yet, he respected it. though he did have the habit of asking questions like ‘when do you think you’ll be ‘ready?’ ‘how many do you wanna have?’ ‘do you want any at all?’

so when you told him you were getting off the pill, not because you wanted children, but because of the side effects that came with it, he was oddly weird about it. maybe it was because he enjoyed cumming inside of you and now he had to pull out

the next few times go by with him pulling out, he didn’t like doing it, but he respected you and your wishes. as much as he’d like to dump his cum into you like he used to, he knew he had to restrain himself

but when the words “im ready” and “please cum inside” slip out of your mouth while he’s pounding his dick into you, he goes feral. his pace immediately picks up, making you moan in pleasure as his thrust went from gentle and loving to rough and quick

kunigami’s mind was filled with images of your belly growing and your boobs heavy and sore. the thought of you carrying his baby just fueled him to the max

you could feel his dick twitching within your gummy walls as his lips feverishly kissed along your entire body, his thumb rubbing circles on your thigh. “you’re gonna be such a good mommy” his sweet words contrasted his rough pace. you could feel his big cock pushing past your cervix and his breeder balls smacking against your plush ass

with a few more thrust and a few whines, he painted your walls white. resting his sweaty body on top of yours while he kissed your shoulder. both your chest’s heaving up and down while your hand roamed his fluffy orange hair

“i hope we have twins”

© MINARINNN 2023 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.

[munsster]

Hi I just read fixer user and I loved it! I was wondering if you could do a part 2 💖💖

an act of true love

A/N: (your pfp made me scream and curl my toes) an unexpected amount of ppl rlly enjoyed this dynamic. i suppose i have found my people 🤭 (gif creds: @kingofscoops)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: In the dead of winter, there’s absolutely nothing that could keep you warm. After all, only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart. 1.5k words

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, pet names (sweetheart), mention of toxic ex boyfriend, cursing, gross flirting

Steve can hear you shivering through the receiver and your stuttered breaths crackling through the cord. You’re begging him to come over and fix your radiator in the middle of a snow storm. The roads aren’t closed yet, but a thin white powder blankets his front lawn and the top of his beemer and he can see the flakes whipping through the stream of light pouring from the streetlamp. So, he piles every blanket he has into his passenger seat and braves the drive to your house.

Does he know how to repair a busted radiator? No.

Is he determined to do anything you require of him? Every single day for the rest of his life.

He’s crouched by the window of your living room, looking for any telltale signs of wear or leaking. You’re standing just behind him, bundled in two blankets and holding a spare flashlight. He’s quiet as he tinkers, but your mind is racing watching his soft toned arms through his cream thermal and his back muscles working when he turns over his shoulder to glance at you with a dashing smile. You nod quickly when he says something, though you’re not exactly sure what.

“Sweetheart?” he coos, raising his brows when you recoil under his gaze.

“Sorry, I didn’t… I wasn’t listening,” you say with a chuckle. He grins, dropping his head in understanding.

“Sorry, I know it’s boring,” he says, “but has it been making noises or anything?”

“Oh, yeah! It kinda groans when I first turn it on and it sounds like it might explode for the first couple minutes. I guess I’ve tuned it out by now.”

“That’s probably not a good sound then,” he teases, turning back to the radiator with a puzzled look.

“No, probably not.” You shuffle off to the kitchen, setting a kettle on the stove and humming softly.

After half an hour of tinkering and a roll of tape, Steve stands and wipes his hands on his jeans.

“That should do it! It’ll probably take a sec to heat up again,” he sighs, and you emerge from the kitchen, balancing two hefty mugs brimming with whipped cream. “Ooh, what’s this?”

“Hot cocoa. Secret family recipe,” you tease. In actuality, it’s just the standard package of chocolate powder and sugar. The secret lies in the healthy dash of cinnamon you mix into it.

“Secret, eh? Guess that gives me a reason to come see you more often,” he hums, following you to the couch and taking one of the mugs from your hands. It warms him up nicely, and he knows you gave him the bigger mug on purpose when you smile triumphantly. He takes a sip, moaning at the sweetness. You giggle at the whipped cream kissing his top lip.

“I hope I’m reason enough,” you say with a faux pout. He sits close enough to share the pile of blankets with you, your thighs pressed against one another in the captured heat.

“Duh, you’re the main attraction,” he huffs, “Your hot chocolate is like the flashy side show. It’s pretty neat but not quite as cool as the reason you bought the ticket.”

You giggle into your mug, face hot in the bellowing steam. Or because of his dimpled cheeks. Or the way his eyes swoop over your face. Or maybe the way he came rushing to your rescue in a storm without a second thought.

“Any new Brad-related developments? Or is he still giving you shit?” he says, swallowing a warm gulp of liquid chocolate.

You groan, head lulling back against the couch. “He keeps calling to say I’m a cold hearted bitch and then immediately hang up. I think he forgot that he’s the one who broke up with me.”

“Right, right. Why’s that again?”

“Something about his family’s values. And how he hates my friends,” you say, “I just remember getting mad because he seemed so jealous and mistrusting. Honestly, in hindsight, he was really childish about the whole thing.”

You shrug it off, but it snaps his heart in two all over again. He doesn’t even want to know the gorey details because he knows it’ll boil his blood. Just knowing that asshole said something like that to you makes his fists ball up in frustration. But he thinks of what you said. What did Brad have to be jealous about; he had the entire world and Steve never bat an eye. Not to you, at least.

“Jealous?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, he’d give me all these ultimatums where I’d have to choose between you and him. So random,” you huff. Though, maybe he was justified in some way. You and Steve have been this close since the day you met. Any love interest would feel threatened by his charm and that smile.

“Oh… weird”—He watches you take a cautious sip from your mug like maybe you regret saying anything at all—“Yeah. That’s random. Had no idea I posed such a threat to that guy. He seemed so… self-assured.”

You stare blankly, shrugging when you mutter, “you can call him a narcissistic prick, i don't care. And yeah, I was kinda surprised the first time he brought it up, because a big part of why I was attracted to him was for his confidence” you chuckle, “No idea what went wrong!

Steve absentmindedly squares his shoulders, sitting up straught on the plush cushions trying to make himself look strong and reliable and confident. You sip your hot chocolate and look at him funny.

“Are you okay?” you say, holding in a laugh.

He nods. “Oh, yeah. I’m just super confident ‘s all.”

You snort, choking on the sip you’d sucked down, pinching your eyes closed when he lurches forward with a worried look slapped across his face.

“Shit, here, let me help,” he huffs, setting his mug aside and wiping the drips from your chin with his sleeve, “Oh, god, are you hurt???”

You cackle with tears pricking in your eyes when he carefully takes your mug and places it next to his. You pat dry your neck, and he watches you softly.

“Stevie, you’re so sweet.”

His heart flutters in his warm chest when you smile at him.

“Well, I dunno about that.”

“No, seriously. You’re so caring and thoughtful, I’ve never met anyone like you,” you whisper.

He takes a shaky breath in.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

You nod heartily and grin wide, and you notice he’s staring at you. So you kick his calf under the blanket.

“Hey, ouch!”

You giggle, but he’s quick to grab the crook of your knee and tug you close so you’re laying flat on the couch. Your hands cover your face when he tickles your sides and leans over you playfully. He’s almost glad you can’t see him blushing or feel his heart racing or hear his head booming with thoughts of you. He gasps when you plant your socked foot on his thigh, but he holds your elbow gently to keep you close to him while he leans over you.

You’re laughing, and he can confidently say it’s his favorite sound. You palm his chest, and he takes a deep breath in. Your eyes flick open because you’ve never felt someones heart beat so fast and so warm just beneath your fingertips. He’s flushed and pink but he looks like a prince in the orange lamplight. And he’s so close to you.

Your fingers curl into the collar of his shirt, barely grasping, and you crane your neck towards him. You watch his honey eyes draw over your lips just before he leans in and kisses you.

His hand molds into your side, melting over the exposed skin like hot syrup. You press into his hold and smile with your fingers drawing up and across the back of his neck.

But the kiss short lived when he pulls away, shoving a hand through his ruffled hair.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Steve huffs, standing and backing away, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I should go!”

He crosses the floor in a daze, forcing his feet back into his shoes before you even can sit up and call after him.

“Steve, wait!”

But he’s shaking his head and reaching for the ice cold door handle with his jacket barely slung over his shoulders. He whips the door open, and you can see the pure white snow floating down in sheets outside.

“Keep the blankets! Just call me if the radiator breaks again, and I’ll see you!”

The door slams shut.

You tut, hand coming to your lips as you look around at the scene before you. The abandoned mugs on the coffee table, his blankets folded over the back of the couch, your repaired radiator whirring softly in the corner. The absence of Steve. What would the kids say. You know they’d lose it, but would they be upset if you ended up together. Would they realize they changed their minds and you’d jeopardized not only your friendship with Steve but with the entire party.

What if everything changes?

Oh, but what if nothing changes: you and Steve tip toeing around each other, the kids scheming and giggling at your misfortune, but now changed by the fact that you’ve kissed Steve. And he kissed you back. And you like him so much.

"Oh, god.”

more like this

masterlist

[puckinghischier]

Bouy

nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

summary: reader gets dragged to the bar by jack to meet all of his teammates, but finds herself drawn to a certain swiss captain

notes: part 2 to locksmith!! probably some inaccuracies about various player’s personalities, but all in the name of entertainment, right? i didn’t proofread either, oops. don’t know if i’m happy with how this turned out but here it is nonetheless. hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼

part 1, part 3, part 4

[4.6k]

~

The bar that Jack picked is surprisingly busy for a week night. It’s not overcrowded, but it’s busy enough to where you’re having to hold on to the back of his shirt so you don’t lose him. He leads the two of you over to a set of tables tucked away at the back of the bar. Jack is greeted with shouts and hugs as you drop your grip on him and simply stand back, letting him have his moment. You recognize a few of the faces, no names coming to mind, but most of the faces you’ve never seen before. You should know the names and faces of who you’re assuming are Jack’s teammates, but the truth is, despite your relationship with the Hughes family, you’ve never been one to follow hockey very closely. You don’t come from an area where hockey is a big deal, and though you understand the logistics of the game and you’ve traveled to watch all three brothers in some of their biggest games pre-NHL, your knowledge of the league’s players pretty much begins and ends with Jack, Luke, and Quinn.

“Long time no see, hallway sleeper,” you’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice in your ear. You turn to see Nico, no hat this time, soft, brown hair on full display. He was still wearing a white t-shirt, only his sweats have been swapped for jeans this time.

“Long time no see, locksmith.”

Nico laughs, and for the second time today you allow yourself to think about how lovely the sound is. “You know, all in a day’s work.”

“Sounds like someone really should have a conversation with the big heads at the NHL. Their poor players work so hard, only to have to pick up second jobs on their off days in order to pay the bills. Shame on them,” you joke.

“I know! Maybe it’s time I go on strike, put my full attention to helping pretty girls break into their apartments full time,” he responds, a small blush forming on your cheeks.

“Well I don’t know about all that, I need my own personal locksmith on call at all times. You can’t abandon me in my time of need!”

“Wouldn’t ever dream of it,” Nico places his hand over his chest, feigning offense. You glance over his shoulder, eyeing the bar, thinking about the vodka cranberry that’s calling your name. He turns and follows your eyes. “Did you want to go get something to drink-“

“Neeks!! What’s up man! We missed you today!” Jack cuts Nico off as he turns around, sticking a hand out in-between himself and his captain. “The kids were asking where you were, you totally have to come with us next time!”

“Yeah, man. Next time, for sure. Just needed a rest day, y’know?” Nico responds, slapping Jack’s outstretched hand.

The two begin their own conversation about the charity skate while you stand in the background. You know Jack isn’t ignoring you on purpose, but you’re getting a little tired of just standing around, deciding that you need that drink sooner than later to loosen yourself up a bit and prepare yourself for the endless stream of socializing you know is about to come your way.

“Hey, J, I’m gonna get a drink, okay? I’ll be right back,” you interrupt the conversation, knowing Jack would be worried if he looked up and you were nowhere to be found.

“Oh shit, Y/N I’m so sorry, I totally forgot to introduce you to everyone. Neeks, this is Y/N, Y/N, Nico.”

“Yeah, we met earlier. When you decided to lock the door on your way out this morning and Nico seems to be the only person with a spare key to the place,” you deadpan, watching a confused look glaze over Jack’s features.

“I left the door unlocked, I swear! I even double checked as I was leaving, because Lu-“ Jack suddenly pauses. “Luke must have locked it when he went to grab his beanie he forgot. I’m so sorry, Bouy,” Jack apologizes, letting the nickname he gave you when you were kids slip out of his mouth.

“Bouy?” you hear Nico’s confusion, looking between the two of you, clearly confused.

“We’re not even going there right now, just a stupid nickname from one summer as a kid, not even important. What is important is that I get a drink, ASAP,” you say, once again trying to make your way to the bar.

You walk away from the two men, sights set on an empty spot near the end of the bar. Admittedly, getting a drink seemed way easier in theory than in execution, because no matter how hard you tried, you cannot get the attention of the bartender. You’ve tried waving, yelling, and following her as she makes her way down the line of patrons, but to no avail. You give up with a huff, turning around and leaning your back against the bar, trying to brainstorm how to get a drink in your hand sooner rather than later. “What if I just go take someone’s drink, what would they do then?” you speak aloud to no one other than yourself.

“I would advise against that. Who knows what concoctions some of these people are drinking.”

You whip your head around to find no other than Nico himself standing to your left. You begin to think him sneaking up on people is a habit of his, seeing as this is the second time he’s both surprised you and caught you talking to yourself today.

“You’ve got to stop sneaking up on me, Jesus.”

“Sorry. You just seemed so lost in that head of yours. I’d ask you what you’re thinking, but I’ve learned if I stand here long enough you’ll just say it out loud,” Nico jabs, amusement once again present in his brown eyes. It seems that’s a common occurrence whenever you’re in his presence.

“If you think I speak my mind now, just wait until I actually get a few drinks in me. You’ll be begging me to shut up,” you joke, turning slightly to see if the bartender is anywhere near your area.

“How about we test the theory. Need help?” he asks, challenging your words.

“I mean, be my guest, but I’ve been trying for what seems like forever,” you grumble, moving over slightly to make room for him at the bar.

You watch him stick his hand out, the bartender almost immediately looking over and nodding, signaling she’ll be right over. Your jaw drops. You were a little pissed, honestly. How in the hell did he just do that? You turn your head to look at him, eyes narrowed.

“How in the hell did you just do that?” your mouth mirrors your thoughts.

“Oh y’know, I have my ways,” he says, eyes twinkling, smirk on his lips.

“No, I demand to know. There’s no way I’ve been standing up here for the better part of fifteen minutes with not even a glance in my direction, yet all you have to do is stick your hand out two inches from your face and suddenly you’re next in line,” you spit out, your tone showing your frustration at the situation.

Nico opens his mouth to respond, but a voice from the other side of the bar sounds before he can get a word out.

“Hey, Neeks, what can I get for ya? Your usual?” the woman serving drinks asks, using the same nickname Jack calls Nico.

“Nah, just a Michelob for me tonight. Got morning skate tomorrow,” he tells her, seeming familiar with the woman. She turns to you, giving you the opportunity to really look at the girl. She was short, but not shorter than yourself. She had platinum blonde hair that was tied back into a high ponytail, a pen stuck right through the middle of it. She was wearing a bright green cropped tank top with black leggings. Her make-up was the perfect combination of natural, yet bold. She was….really fucking pretty. Like, intimidatingly pretty. The kind of girl that would make even the most confident of women feel slightly insecure, to no fault of her own.

“Is that all or…?” she trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

“Can I just get a vodka cranberry? Double?” you asked, suddenly regretting your decision to not even wear make-up tonight.

You hear her scoff through a “Of course, coming right up,” before looking at Nico once again, then hurrying off to grab Nico’s beer and your cocktail.

“Is there something wrong with a vodka cran up here? Why the attitude?” you spit out, annoyed that she clearly found an issue with your choice of drink.

“You just have to ignore Jess, she’s a bit of an alcohol snob. Thinks everyone should drink top shelf or not even bother drinking at all,” Nico gives you the girl’s name.

You were going to respond to the fact that the two are on a first name basis, but your drinks arrived before you had the chance. You looked up to thank the girl, Jess as you now know, but shut your mouth when you saw the exchange happening before you.

“Just add it to my tab, Jess. Both of them,” Nico tells her, grabbing the bottle of Michelob sitting in front of him.

“Sure thing, Neeks. If you need anything else just give me a shout. You know where to find me,” Jess lets her hand linger, briefly brushing against Nico’s. You look up to her face, seeing the sultry look in her eyes, her chin slightly dropped. She’s looking at Nico like he’s a meal and she hasn’t eaten in days. Glancing over at the man standing next to you, you notice his entire face is flushed red, up to the tips of his ears.

Your brows shoot up in both surprise and understanding. These two have slept together! Her actions a dead giveaway, albeit subtle. Girls recognize girls, you know? It surely explains why he was so quick to get her attention when you couldn’t even get so much as a glance. You’re fighting against every single muscle in your face to not break out into laughter, finding this amusing for some reason.

“Yeah, gotcha. Thanks, Jess,” Nico replies to the girl, stepping back a few inches from the bar.

You turn and follow him in the direction of the tables from earlier, trying your hardest to not get lost in the crowd of bodies you’re having to weave through.

“So, you didn’t tell me that all I had to do to get the bartender’s attention was sleep with her,” you said, stopping Nico in his tracks.

He turns to look at you, eyes wide and face red, seeming a little embarrassed. You worry you’ve already stuck your foot in your mouth much too early into the night.

“How did you- What makes you think-“ he fumbles over his words.

“I’m a girl, silly. I know when another girl is giving a man the ‘you gave me one of the best nights of my life and I want to do you again’ eyes. Nothing to be ashamed of, she’s gorgeous,” you interrupt, amused at his embarrassment.

You actually think its kind of sweet he seems embarrassed. You half expected him to meet your comments with a smirk and puff his chest out a bit, proud that he’d scored such a beautiful woman, but he’s not. You’ve met plenty of Jack’s previous teammates over the years, most of them cocky assholes that care about nothing more than who they can sleep with next. Never missing the chance to boast to all of his buddies about the blonde chick he managed to sneak into his room last night.

Nico’s response was the complete opposite of that. He almost recoiled at your words, looking like he wanted to crawl under the nearest table he could find and hide there until the end of the night. It’s a refreshing contrast to what you’re used to. You start to feel a little bad for even bringing it up.

Nico stands still, staring at you like he’d rather be anywhere else at the moment, beer forgotten in his hand. You can see the wheels turning in his head on how he’s going to get out of this situation. “Hey, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s none of my business. I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just used to Jack’s other friends that never shut up about who they sleep with. My filter has a few holes in it I need to patch up I guess. I haven’t even had a drink and I’m already sticking my foot in my mouth-“

“I haven’t slept with her.”

Your mouth snaps shut mid-sentence. You stare at the man in front of you, noticing how he keeps fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable. He keeps shifting his weight from foot to foot, switching his beer from left to right to run whichever hand is free through his hair. His eyes keep darting anywhere but your face, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

“Well if you haven’t then she sure wants to,” you try to backtrack a bit, hoping you can humor your way out of the mess you walked yourself into.

“Yeah, I’m sure she does. Just like she wants to sleep with the rest of the team,” he scoffs out. “Don’t get me wrong, Jess is nice and all, but she hits on all of us. It’s worked on a few of the guys. I’ve seen her drop a few of them off at practice in the mornings, but she never lets it go farther than that. Some of the guys prefer…arrangements like that, but it’s not really my style,” Nico replies, shocking you with his sudden honesty.

“I find it hard to believe that beautiful blondes aren’t your type, but I’ll let it slide for now,” you narrow your eyes, not sure how else to respond to his unexpected candor.

“It seems that my type is talkative strangers, but I’ll let you know if it changes,” Nico tells you with a smirk, his shift in personality giving you whiplash as he walks off without another word.

———————————————————————————

“So, where exactly are you from, Y/N?” you get asked for the fourth time in about 5 minutes from the man sitting to your right. You can’t exactly remember his name, only that he’s drank about 4 beers in the time you’ve been sitting here. Considering Jack went down the line and literally rapid fired names at you once you returned to the tables, you forgive yourself for not remembering.

“Dawson, she already told you three times, dude. She’s from Tennessee!” the man to your left shouts across you a little too loudly. You flinch a bit at just how loud these guys can be, having been shuffled around from conversation to conversation for the past hour, each man reaching a volume you didn’t know was humanly possible.

Jack will come by whatever table you’re currently at about every 30 minutes and tug you in whatever direction he sees fit, going on and on about how you just HAVE to meet so and so because they’ll love you. You love that he’s trying to include you and integrate you into the group dynamic the team has going on, but you really wish he would just let you mingle on your own.

His teammates have been nothing but welcoming and kind, but most of them are more than a few drinks deep and have been talking about whatever upcoming game they have and what strategies they need to improve on, leaving you left out and unable to add anything to the conversation.

“Virginia, actually. But close! I lived right on the border of Tennessee and Virginia, so it’s almost like I’m from both,” you shout back, explaining your origin…again.

“Wait, Virginia and Tennessee border each other?” Mr. four beers questions, Dawson you’ve just learned.

“Mercer you idiot, of course they border each other. Have you ever even looked at a fucking map?” the man to your left responds, reaching behind you and slapping Dawson on the back of the head.

“Ow! I’m from Canada, Johnny! How am I supposed to know? Do you know what Canadian states border one another?” Dawson fires back at the man to your left, Johnny.

“Provinces.”

“What?”

“Canada has provinces, not states, Dawson,” Johnny says, a blank look on his face as he stares at Dawson.

“Fuck you. And your Harvard degree,” Dawson crosses his arms and puffs up like a kid. It’s amusing really, watching the two bicker like siblings.

As the two continue to go back and forth, you can’t help but let your eyes wander around the bar, searching for a pair of brown ones. You haven’t spoken to Nico since he walked away from you earlier, after he all but told you that you were his type. His words took you by surprise, having only known the man for a few hours. You can’t lie and say you didn’t find him attractive from the moment you saw him standing in his doorway this morning, but you can’t let yourself go there, can you? You’ve been in the city less than twenty-four hours. You haven’t even fully unpacked all of your clothes yet, and here you are, unable to get your best friend’s captain off of your mind.

Just as you try to shake the thoughts running through your head, a pair of eyes find yours, causing you to sit up a little straighter. He’s standing at a table with Jack and a man that you remember to be named Timo. He’s Swiss, too, you learned when Jack introduced the two of you. He told you that he and Nico played together before they both found themselves with the Devils, the pair having hockey history.

Nico glances away, only briefly, before finding your eyes again, noticing the two men arguing on either side of you. He raises his eyebrow, as if asking you if you need help, but you just shrug and give a little half smile, rolling your eyes as if to say ‘boys, right?’. He lets out a chuckle, his shoulders shaking slightly. You see him exchange a few words with Jack and Timo before stepping away from the table, walking in the direction of the table you’re sitting at.

Just as Nico is only a few steps away, you feel your phone buzzing from where its laying on your thigh. You look at the screen, your mother’s name flashing across the screen. Realizing you hadn’t called her since your plane landed earlier in the day, you decide you should probably take the call.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta take this call,” you slide out from in-between the two hockey players, still arguing away. They don’t even notice your departure, too lost in discussing geography.

You look over to see Nico stop in his tracks, a confused look on his face. You hold up your phone and point to the screen, mouthing the word ‘mom’ before walking over to a secluded corner of the bar for some quiet.

“Hey, mom. Sorry I forgot to call earlier. It’s been a long day,” you sigh, leaning against the cool brick wall.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. I just wanted to see how you were settling in. See how the boys were,” she pauses. “Where are you? What’s all that noise in the background?” she questions, slight concern in her voice.

“You know Jack, he wanted to come out and ‘celebrate’ the fact that I live in Jersey now. Tried to get out of it, but Jack never misses a chance to go out. Still have a ton of unpacking to do. I hope to have it all done before too long, though.”

“I should’ve known Jack would be ready to party as soon as you got there. You were always his favorite tag along,” she chuckles, referencing all the time Jack would drag you to various outings and events during the summer.

“Yeah, well this tag along is ready to make her way to her bed for the night, but I have to drive Jack home, so I’ll probably still be here awhile.”

“Honey just tell him you’re ready to go home. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Nah, I can wait it out a little bit longer. He’s too busy introducing me to everyone. He was so excited for me to meet his teammates,” you quickly glance towards where Jack stands. “You’d think I was some local celebrity or something the way he’s been shuffling me from table to table for meet and greets,” you laugh into the phone.

“He’s just happy to have you around again, sweetheart. I know how much you missed him, I’m sure he missed you just as much. He’s just trying to make sure you’re included.”

“I know, I know. It’s sweet, really, I just wish he would’ve let me have a few days before throwing me into a group of drunk hockey players, as usual,” you tell your mom, trying not to sound ungrateful. You do appreciate how eager Jack is to have all his friends meet you, but you’re growing sleepier by the minute.

“Welcome to life with Rowdy…again,” your mom laughs, using Jack’s childhood nickname.

“At least it’s sure to be an interesting one,” you reply, causing her laugh to grow. “Alright, momma, I better go before Jack comes looking for me. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you,” you say, looking over towards Jack’s table, watching him look around, likely noticing your absence.

“Alright, honey. I love you!” she says, hanging up the phone.

You lean your head back against the wall, closing your eyes for a second and taking a deep breath before returning to the chaos of bodies across the room.

“Did Dawson and Johnny really make that bad of a first impression that you’re hiding in a dark corner?”

Yet again, you jump at the voice that seems to be following you around today. You raise your head up and open your eyes, Nico standing a few feet away from you. You simply close your eyes once again and lay your head back against the wall once more, needing another minute to collect yourself.

“You know, I think I’m going to buy you some of those shoes with squeakers in them, that way I can always know when you’re coming,” you tell him, enjoying the feeling of the cool concrete against your head.

All you hear in response is a laugh, which has you raising your head to look at Nico again. You admire the way he scrunches his nose when he laughs, already thinking about how you can coax the sound out of him again.

“Where’s the fun in that now…Bouy, was it?” he recalls your nickname from earlier, earning a glare from you.

“Don’t you even start,” you warn.

“You’re really not going to tell me why Jack called you that? I’ve been trying to get the story out of him for the past two hours. He won’t budge, saying only you can tell it.”

“Trust me, it’s not even worth your time. I don’t even understand why the nickname stuck. They’re all stupid, the lot of them,” you shut down the request.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pry it out of you one day. I’ll solve the Bouy mystery eventually,” Nico persists, not letting the subject drop that easily.

You remove yourself from the wall, sliding your phone into your back pocket. You run your hand through your hair with a huff, preparing yourself to join the others once again.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. My mom called, so I figured I’d better take it. A little tired, but I’m all good. Just hope Jack tires out sooner rather than later,” you shrug your shoulders.

“I can give him a ride home if you want to leave? I don’t mind, really. Not like it’s exactly out of the way,” Nico offers.

“No, I should stay. He was really excited for me to meet everyone tonight so I feel like I should at least stay a little bit longer. I don’t want to bail on him this soon.”

“Trust me, if it was up to Jack he wouldn’t leave until they kicked him out,” Nico states, nothing but seriousness in his tone.

“Well, we don’t call him Rowdy for nothing,” you joke. “Speaking of, we’ve been spotted,” you notice Jack making his way over to where the two of you stand.

“Hey, everything alright? I couldn’t find you and Timo said he saw you come over here awhile ago, then said he saw Nico come over here too. You okay?” Jack says as he approaches, glancing towards Nico before looking at you, concern in his tone and on his face.

“No, yeah, I’m fine. Mom called and I came over here so I could hear her better, then Nico came to check on me. We were about to come join everyone again, I was just enjoying the quiet for another minute,” you tell Jack, watching the worry fall from his face.

“Oh tell momma Y/L/N that her favorite surrogate son misses her,” Jack brightens at the mention of your mom, both of you viewing the other’s parents as a second set, just as close to them as you were your own.

“I will when she calls tomorrow,” you chuckle, knowing your mom will get a kick out of this conversation.

“I actually came over here to see if you were ready to go? We have morning skate tomorrow and Luke just texted me asking when we were coming home, which usually means he’s lonely and feeling left out, so we should probably get going,” Jack says, surprising you by granting your earlier wishes.

“Oh my god yes, please. I’m so tired,” you sigh, letting your shoulders slump, relieved that you’re only a few minutes away from climbing in your bed.

“I thought so, you looked like you were having a grand time with Dawson and Johnny,” Jack laughs, recalling your earlier position between the two geography enthusiasts.

“They were literally yelling at each other about the geography of the U.S. and Canada,” you told the two men standing with you, both of them breaking out into laughter.

“That’s nothing. Once they argued for a full two hours on if pterodactyl was spelled with a p or not,” Nico adds in, having been silent until now, causing you to be the one filled with laughter.

Jack looks over, seeming to just now remember Nico was also standing with the two of you.

“You need a ride home, cap?” Jack offers, looking over at you with suspicious eyes before looking back at Nico.

“Nah, I’ve only had two beers. I’m good to drive. Plus, I should probably make sure Dawson gets home and in bed. He’s going to regret all those tequila shots when we have to be on the ice at eight tomorrow morning.”

“Exactly why I’m tapping out now. Be careful, Neeks. See you at practice,” Jack tells his captain before turning to you. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

“Like it’s a hot summer day.”

Jack smiles, the phrase becoming a trademark of yours over the years. You don’t even remember what started it, just that it’s become the signature end to many nights of fun for the two of you. He turns to walk away and you go to follow him before you realized you didn’t say goodbye to Nico. Not wanting to feel rude, you turn around to say your goodbyes to the captain.

“Goodnight, Nico. Have a good practice tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Bouy,” he responds, a shit-eating grin breaking out on his face.

Fuck you, Jack Hughes.

[pholla-jm]

Tutor Me (2)

IMAGINE: TUTOR ME X READER PT. 2 FEAT: MEGUMI, YUJI, NOBARA GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. slight cussing- like once i think.

italics means they are speaking in English. a/n: i really tried to get this out on thursday, but work was completely wiping me out!

Here’s part 1 if you haven’t read it!

English Teacher ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Megumi, I need you to tutor me.” 

Megumi turns his head and gives his teacher, Gojo Satoru, a dirty look. I mean, why is a teacher asking their student to tutor them? 

“What do you want?” “I want to learn how to speak English.” Megumi scoffs, already knowing the reason why he wants to learn English. 

“It’s not the reason you think. You know, it’s important that we get along… as co-workers.” 

Megumi just stares at him. Knowing full well that he did not want to get along with the new teacher for the sake of a positive work environment. 

However, he knew that if he denied his wishes of learning English, then Gojo would bother him to no end.

“Fine.” He mutters and Gojo's grin almost splits his face in half. 

So, Megumi spent his whole evening teaching and practicing how to speak English. ******* 

The next morning, Gojo walks into the teacher lounge so confident with a little pack of flashcards in his hand. He was able to spot you easily as you were sitting at a desk, going over some papers then writing something on another sheet of paper. 

Gojo takes a deep breath, going over his flashcards one last time before heading to where you were sitting. 

“Hello.” 

You hear the heavy accent with his ‘hello’ causing you to smile a little. 

Megumi had told you what was going on earlier… and you couldn’t help but find it a bit endearing. And it doesn’t help that Gojo talks about you while you’re in the room. You decided to not tell Gojo that you can in fact speak Japanese. The students knew about this too to make sure they wouldn’t spoil your fun. 

You wanted to see how far Gojo was willing to go, just to talk to you. 

You place the pen down, turning your full attention to him. 

“Hello, you’re Gojo Satoru. Right?” 

Gojo’s eyes widen when he hears you speak his name. He loves how you say his name. “Uh… yes.” “Nice to finally meet you.” 

You stick your hand out for him to shake and he looks at it in confusion. You smile at him then put your hand down, “sorry. I forgot, it’s different here.” 

Gojo blinks at you, trying to process what you said. However, it wasn’t clicking in his head. So he just nods his head and looks down at one of his flashcards. You peer over, trying to see what he has written down. You smile a little seeing a different handwriting in Japanese, and you recognize Megumi’s handwriting in English. 

“What is… your name?” 

You find it funny how blunt he sounds. 

“(L/n) (Y/n). But you can call me (y/n).” You point to yourself while you said (y/n), hoping that he picks up the cue to call you by your first name. 

“(y/n),” he repeated and you nod your head, “what a pretty name.” You had to fight off the growing blush on your face. 

Gojo flips over to the next flashcard. “Eh… how… you do?”

“I’m good, thank you. How are you doing this morning?” 

Gojo hums a little bit while looking down at his flashcards. “What… like do?” 

You tilt your head to the side, wondering what he was asking. You also wondered if he just wrote questions to ask and not any to answer. 

“Can I see those?” You point to the flashcards and his eyes widen for a second. “This?” “Yes.” You hold out your hand, signaling for him to put the flashcards in your hands. 

You could see the hint of nervousness in his eyes, “it’s okay.” 

Gojo places the white flashcards in the palm of your hand, and your suspicions were proved correct. There were only questions on here. 

You peer up at him to see that he had a little pout on his face and he was looking away. You could see the slightest pink on the tips of his ears… and it was honestly cute. 

You look back down at the flashcards and see little notes on how to pronounce things. You could see that he was actually trying which flattered you a bit. This man, who could be quite childish in nature, was trying to learn your language just to talk to you. 

You smile up at him, “did Megumi help you?” Gojo looks at you a bit confused, “Megumi?” He asks. “Yeah,” you hold up the flashcards and he finally gets it. So, he nods his head. 

Suddenly a timer goes off on your phone, signaling that you should be heading over to the classroom. Gojo looks over at your phone, wondering why it was going off. 

You turn off the timer and grab your things, “Time to go to class.” 

You turn back to Gojo, the flashcards still in your hands, “here. Let’s go.” 

Gojo watches you in confusion. He was trying to process the fast words you were speaking and it was honestly giving him a headache. The best way he could describe it, is if he was listening to a SIM character speak really fast. Made no sense, but it meant something. 

You were at the door, and you turned back around to see that Gojo was still standing there.

You wave your hand to motion him to follow you.

That he understood.

Gojo was quick to follow your footsteps. He keeps glancing down at you, wondering what to say. But he didn’t know how to say it in English, and it was quite frustrating to him. 

“Teach me.” He suddenly says, causing you to stop in the hallway. You look up at him, and you can tell that he was being serious about this. 

Gojo Satoru, the all powerful, was putting all of his pride away to ask someone to teach him something. You felt a certain tug in your heart, but you didn’t know exactly what it meant. “Come with me.” 

You continue to head towards the classroom, where your three students were waiting for you. 

Yuji’s head pops up, upon seeing his two teachers. 

“Gojo-sensei what are you doing here?” “What, I can’t be in my own classroom?”

Megumi sighs, and rolls his eyes. 

“It’s English class.” Nobara says. 

You smile at your students, “Students.” You say and Gojo looks over at you in shock. “I want you to meet our new student.” You say and motion over to the desks. 

Yuji starts snickering, and Nobara bursts out laughing. Megumi’s eyes widened hearing this. He didn’t think this would happen. 

“Wait! You could speak Japanese this whole time?!” Gojo asks you and you just shrug. “A little. Now head over to your desk.” 

Gojo scoffs at himself, “a little my ass.” He mutters but you still hear him. “Hey, we won’t use that language in the classroom.” “But it’s my classroom.” “Not right now. It’s mine. And we’re learning English. You’re the one who said who wanted to learn English. Remember?” 

Gojo is stumped because less than two minutes ago, he was telling you to teach him English.

“That’s interesting…” Megumi says, “coming from someone who said that they didn't want to waste their time with English.” “When did I say that? I’m here, learning right now. Aren’t I?... also you're flashcards sucked.”  Megumi just frowns at Gojo, choosing not to engage with him anymore.

"I thought it was adorable."

Gojo walks over to the desk, sitting down next to Yuji with a small smirk on his face. “Plus, I wouldn’t mind someone like you as my teacher.” 

His little comment makes you a bit flustered, but you quickly recover.  “Alright, we’re going to pick up where we left off…” you then start your lesson, hoping that Gojo doesn’t just gaze at you and actually pay attention to your lesson. ~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list for people who wanted a part 2! @yumii-34 @jotarohat @kuroosluthoe @sakuichan @chilichopsticks @nijinohoshi @cloudjoyous @tobysmokes if you don't feel comfortable being tagged, just let me know and I'll happily remove it!

[motherrpearl]

the possibilities of a new beginning

pairing; five hagreeves x fem!reader (replacing dolores btw sorry)

summary; that was a shitshow of a final season. im going to fix that and you're coming with me! many references to earlier seasons!

the feeling of boiling skin overlapping his own was haunting, making his brain toss and turn like a sleepless man.

‘it's to save the world’ the thought kept repeating in his mind, ‘we must cease to exist’. closing his eyes, five was ready to embrace death, to fix the world that had been doomed to fail the moment the marigold entered their mother's wombs.

‘this isn't fair.’

beep beep beep beep. went the digital alarm clock, screaming at the sleeping man to arise for the morning. five jolted up. frantically looking around in hopes of finding his siblings.

instead, walls of creamy white, a brown dresser, comfy bed, carpeted floors — an average bedroom... where was he...?

he stared off into space for a moment, recollecting his thoughts, before he heard the whir of an electric toothbrush. “who's there?”

“ah! sleepin' beauty woke up!” a voice called back, like an echo. a familiar yet, also unfamiliar voice coming from the other room. “you've slept in, we're going to be late if you don't start moving.”

five furrowed his brows, before he looked down at his hands. they weren't scarred like they used to be, they were... oddly normal. and his umbrella tattoo — wait, what umbrella tattoo?

footsteps approached the bedroom, a woman with a white towel wrapped around her body, and another wrapping her hair up to dry. “you okay there, five?”

the electric toothbrush whirred, a bit of toothpaste stuck to the side of the lady's mouth, as she gripped the towel to keep it from falling.

five snapped out of it once the whir glitched for a second then continued. “what day is it?”

“8th of August, 2024.” she replied, knitting her brows together in concern. “did you have a bad dream?”

a dream? was it a dream? was it reality? did we fix it? is this heaven? a domestic life with the woman, who strangely looked like a mannequin he swore he saw in a shop once?

“five?” the lady snapped her finger's, attempting to get his attention. five whipped his head up to look at the woman.

“[___]?” he said, saying her name, but almost questioning. like he forgot who she was. she laughed.

“yes, [___] hargreeves, your lawfully wedded wife and love of your life.” she teased back, smiling at five when she moved over to the dresser, pulling out clothes.

their wedding... as if memories of a whole life were coming back to him, he remembers. their wedding day, how beautiful she looked in her dress.

he remembers luther and his wife, sloane, there as well.

raymond almost spilling his wine on allison's dress, which made her laugh.

klaus and his lover, dave, keeping claire and the other kids occupied while diego and lila mingled off somewhere else — just to get a breather away from the kids.

five also remembers ben, showing off his new partner, jennifer, at the wedding like she was the greatest thing in the world. while jennifer just laughed and smiled sweetly.

“how... long have we been married now?” he asks.

“2 years.” [___] says, humming herself a time as she picked out a shirt to go with her jeans. “which jeans, black or blue... oh! speakin' of jeans. the neighbours dropped off your mail this morning, mailman got mixed up.”

jeans? neighbours? — “who?”

“the neighbours? jeanette and gene? jean and gene?” [___] said back, trying to jog his memory. “your memory isn't the best today, love.”

ah! his neighbours, of course. “tell them i said thank you.” five replied, shifting hsi legs and attempting to get out of bed.

once his bare heels hit the carpet, memories came racing back to him.

raymond and allison's wedding, claire's first birthday, luther and sloane getting together, lila and diego announcing their pregnancy, opening up a diner, where ben met jennifer — meeting [___]... in the department store, setting up the mannequins in their dresses...

what was he thinking about earlier? umbrella? did he need a new one? huh? what was he thinking again?

it was like his mind was erased in just a millisecond. a lively spark in his eyes appeared. “what are we doing today?”

“grace's birthday. remember?”

grace, grace, grace. diego and lila's little girl. it was her birthday, yeah. five nodded, “yes, i do.”

“i got that coffee you like yesterday. it's on the counter, near the spice rack, also — can you make sure to grab gracie's present from the cupboard??” [___] asked before five could leave the room.

he looked over at his wife, realising this was his life. he had a good life. a life many versions of himself many people would kill to have. a domestic, and family oriented lifestyle.

the sides of five's mouth twitched up in a smile. ”of course.” he answered her, before he put on a pair of navy blue slippers and walked down the hall, checking out the decor.

cabinets and glass doors cupboards filled with souvenirs and memories. paintings and family pictures on the walls. a retro styled house phone painted in a sunset for the aesthetics.

something crunched under his feet as he walked along. looking down, he lifted up his foot. a domino mask. a fake one, it had the dc robin logo on the back, probably from on of his nieces or nephew's, they probably left it here by accident.

something about the mask made him pause. dragging his finger across the black edgings, and white eye covers. “hm...” he mused, before placing it on a shelf in hesitation and slight dazed confusion.

that mask reminded him of something he felt wasn't even real. but the thing is, he couldn't remember? maybe an alternate version of himself knew what this was about.

he smiled at the mask, and scoffed at the idea. multiple timelines? how silly.

On the twelfth hour of the eighth day of August 2024, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary occurred. You might say, it was just a normal day.

[ephemerensis]

Lavender // Tim Drake x GN! Reader

part 1. this is part 2. i just took the LSAT (law school test) feeling floored and dejected right now i cannot lie! rly just ran through writing this 😖 not proofread im sry

—

When you came to, it was Red Robin at your bedside. His hands neatly folded beneath his head as he rested it on the side of the mattress. The way his back rose and fell, and the way he was still as you shifted around indicated he was asleep. You knew little of him, but enough to know that this was a rarity, to see him in his slumber. And it softened something in you, awakening a yearning to protect this peace for him.

Memories of the previous night ran through your head again, and from what you could collect you remembered that bludgeoning feeling that accompanied his little outburst. To think you were the source of his stress, and his being here amplified that. Tense even in sleep like a guard dog at your beck and call.

But he’d forget you soon enough.

If you were honest with yourself, you held a selfish desire for this arrangement to last as long as possible for all the wrong reasons. He was kind and dependable and witty; talking was easy and secretly fawning over him was even easier. This, of course, you knew was unsustainable. You’re a job. He’s a hero in a mask.

When all is good and done and you go your separate ways, he’d find something else to stress over. Although, you hoped it wouldn’t be so taxing. You weren’t happy to be a burden, but if you were his worst then the rest would be easy to bury when you were gone. Wishful thinking, there’s always bigger fish to fry. But worse was the thought that something else could make him as upset as this.

He looked so peaceful, face resting in his palms, features angelically frozen in place. A couple of stray strands dangled between the whites of his mask, brushing against his nose as a breeze trailed in from the open bedside window. You reached forward to push them back, but as soon as your fingers brushed his locks he stirred. Your eyes widened; pulling your hand back, out of embarrassment or something other— you weren’t sure, you pretended to be interested in the birds flying by outside as he’d picked his head up off the sheets.

“Y/N?” It was a wonder you mistook him for Tim the night before, the fatigue was likely to blame. What a ridiculous mistake. Where Tim sounded gentle and fleeting, like waves lapping at the shore, Red Robin was more grounded in his speech. They were uncannily similar in their own respects, but the difference was undeniable. When Tim spoke, it was like he coaxed you into listening, when Red Robin calls your name it’s like he pulls you to him.

You turned from the window to look at him, feigning as composed of an expression as you could, as if your hand wasn’t inches from his face a couple seconds ago.

He stood, stoically brushing himself off and straightening himself, “are you feeling alright? How’s your arm?”

That’s right. You’d been shot at. You glanced at your bandaged arm, neatly wrapped and tightly bound. It honestly wasn’t so bad, it was the tranquilizers that really hit you, and the worst of that effect was long over if your sudden alertness had anything to mean by it, “fine, I almost forgot about it.”

He shook his head, arms crossed, “I don’t know, you seemed pretty shaken yesterday.”

“Was not.”

“Sorry, who was screaming crying?” The ghost of a smile danced on his lips.

Your face burned red remembering your sorry state, “you said you wouldn’t show! How was I supposed to know?”

His lips curled up into a real smile with the twinge of something like guilt hidden underneath it. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad, but the fact that he was smiling was enough to ease your heart. “Told you I could get in anywhere.”

The serene expression on his face reminded you of Tim. In almost every sense they were different, but something in their mannerisms aligned as if the very fabric of their nature were cut from the same cloth and tailored by someone else’s hand. And although you’d only met him once, Tim struck you as someone you really wanted to know. He was magnetizing and more importantly, things with him felt like they were easy.

“Do you know if Tim Drake got out safely?”

Red Robin nodded, “he’s fine.”

“He hid me in the first place, you know,” you smiled to yourself, “and then he went back out for his brother or something. He seems like a really good person.”

He snorted and you swore if you could see his eyes he’d be rolling them, “he should’ve taken you outside to the police or left you with a guard at least.”

You furrowed your brows, “don’t be mean.”

“Just saying,” he mumbled. “They did book tickets for you to return, the Waynes.”

“I’m not going back, I told you that.”

“At least think it over.”

“I slept on it, I’m staying.” You cut him off before he could protest, “at least until the launch. And I meant what I said, you don’t have to watch me anymore. It’s not like I remember all the files I’d read, Gotham is safe, and I have my own people. I’ll just have to keep a… lower profile.”

“You meant what you said?” You couldn’t read his expression, the mask got in the way.

“Every word.” But the way he asked the question made you want to throw in a ‘mostly’ for insurance.

“So you really like Tim Drake?”

Your face burned, immediately crossing your arms in defense. That part of the conversation conveniently slipped your mind.“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“So you don’t like Tim.” The nerve he had to smirk at you left your jaw on the floor as you stumbled for a response. As if you’d admit it twice, you didn’t even know him that well.

“Stop bullying me,” you grumbled.

He just snorted, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t need to keep a low profile. As long as you’re here I’ll take care of you.”

You whipped your head to look at him. The last thing you needed was to be a burden to the infinitely charming, slightly annoying, masked stranger sitting in front of you.

“No way, I can handle—“

“I’ll take care of you,” he reiterated, in that frustratingly soft tone that made you forget everything else. Your resolve was by no means something weak, but you already had an inclination towards him, you knew this. And he was too tantalizing to deny, he must know this. It wasn’t fair, you had to fold.

“Thank you.”

Despite it all, you still exercised your caution. Unlike before, you were careful about announcing your whereabouts or even spending excessive time in public. He would do his job, but you would do your best to make it easier. And things were quieter, nothing happened.

A week after the altercation your schedules cleared enough for you to meet Tim for coffee. He’d reached out first but you brought up meeting, for business purposes of course. You’d arrived early, out of something like excitement or anticipation. And he was late.

“Hey, sorry traffic held me up.” Your heart sped up when you saw him walking towards the table, and you weren’t sure if it was your brain tricking you into thinking you liked him that much or if you were really that pathetic. His hair was messy in the way hair gets tousled when you change shirts, but it suited him more so than the polished, perfect look he’d worn the day of the gala.

“That’s okay,” you shook your head with as calm a smile as you could muster, “my schedule is open today. I’m not in a rush.”

He beamed at you, taking the opposite seat. “Right! What’d you order?” Tim nodded towards the cup in front of you.

“Oh, it’s—“

“Wait no let me guess.” He squinted at the cup before locking eyes with you. The cup itself wasn’t clear, but maybe he could get a sense for what it was based on the residue on the straw or something ridiculous like that. After a moment, it seemed he’d decided. He spoke with confidence, complete and certain, “a chai… dirty. Like four shots of espresso dirty, light ice, sugar free sweetener.”

And he was wrong. You burst out laughing, “What? No.”

His eyes had a tendency to smile before his lips did, you noticed. He was shocked for two seconds before laughing with you. “Was I close?”

“Not even, you order espresso with chai? Are you okay?” You scrunched your nose and shook your head just thinking about it. Not just espresso but four shots of it, he was something else.

“No, see, I’m more of a straight black coffee kind of guy.”

You had to laugh, making him stare at you with an amused confusion. First his archaic responses to emails and now this. He just looked young, but he was 40 and balding deep down inside, you knew it. “And you like reading Kafka and playing chess too?”

He tilted his head to the side in catlike curiosity, and the sunlight caught in his eyes the way it glimmers on the surface of the ocean. It wasn’t fair to compare him to a cat though, you’d supposed, he was a dog. Through and through. “How’d you know?”

When he’d gotten his coffee order (pitch black; you shuddered just thinking about it) and you’d both settled into the late morning, he suggested a walk around the city.

You were supposed to be playing things safe, sticking to quiet locations that Red Robin could clearly monitor you from. But truthfully, you hadn’t had time to see the city, nor did you want to turn down the most charming guide the place had to offer. So of course, you agreed. Red Robin was good at his job, this much would be fine.

“You know, I’m not so bad a dancer. I just hadn’t waltzed in a long time.” He’d taken you to a park in the heart of it all. It was huge, sprawling walk ways amongst rolling hills dotted with trees. Somewhere in it was a lake, he promised, so that’s where you were headed arm in arm.

“Right,”he scoffed, “I believe you.” You could’ve drowned in the sarcasm that dripped from his voice. If he wasn’t so chipper about it, you might’ve even been offended.

“It’s true!” You smacked his arm with a half hearted huff he had nerve to laugh at. After a breath, you started again, “I’ve been meaning to ask, what cologne do you wear?”

An emotion flickered across his face, going as a quickly as it came. If you’d blinked you’d have missed it, the briefest twitch of his left brow and the way his lips parted for a millisecond. Not that it meant anything to you, you could’ve imagined it, because he was back and beaming before you could push on.

“Why? Do you want it?” From seemingly nowhere, he pulled out a pocket sized atomizer and spritzed the wrist of his sweater. Tim linked his arm with yours again, before taking the cologne covered sleeve your shoulder and arm with it. The scent of that lavender vanilla washed over you again. In your head you thought they were Pavlov-ing you in some tag teamed manner. At first it was whatever, but now those gentle notes meant safety and comfort. It made you mellow. “Just hang around me more often, it’ll stick.”

“Red Robin wears the same one,” and there it was again. Except this time his face didn’t change, but you could feel the muscles the arm linked to yours tense briefly and his pace slowed by a millisecond. “I just thought it was a funny coincidence. I’ve never met anyone else that’s worn it, and I know my perfumes. You’re a fan right?”

“Oh no, not at all.” He said it too quickly and he knew it. It looked like his featured had frosted over, like a deer in headlights. Tim cleared his throat, glancing away awkwardly. “I prefer Red Hood,” he tacked on.

“Oh,” you frowned, maybe he was shy about it or maybe Red Robin yelled at him. He was displeased enough the other day. “You’re awfully similar, I think you’d get along. He’s a little meaner though. Well, not mean but like… closed off.”

“Yeah that guy sounds like he sucks,” he mumbled.

“Don’t say that.” It came out sterner than you’d intended or anticipated. You don’t know why the urge to defend your masked stalker arose so strongly within you, but you didn’t feel justified in anyone thinking anything less of him than what he was. Softening your tone, you tried again. “He cares a lot, and he tries really hard, and he’s good at what he does, and it makes a difference.”

He just stared at you. But not in a way you could decipher. He wasn’t annoyed or spiteful or anything. He just stared; mouth slightly agape and face unshakingly still.

Tim’s silence spurred on your embarrassment, maybe you’d spoken out of turn. You were suddenly very interested in the foliage, “hey, look at that… tree.”

“You’re right.” Relief flooded your body as he broke the tension, and moreso because he agreed with you. “Do you wanna go out sometime? With me?”

You slowed your steps to a halt. It came out a little out of the blue, but more importantly, “this isn’t a date?”

“I can do better than this for a first date.” And with that oh so gentle smile on his face, you were doomed to believe him.

Tim delivered, of course. He took you to a pottery house to paint your own plates and spin your own mugs; none of which were shaped very nicely by either of you, but he insisted they were gorgeous and… avant garde.

After you’d both wasted enough clay and everything was ready to be fired, he took you to a private garden with the most scenic blooms in Gotham. For a workaholic shut in, he knew an impressive amount of plant facts— at least enough to give you a guided tour of the place and tell you what each flower in the bouquet he picked for you meant.

Subsequently he’d prepared a picnic dinner under starry skies and a full moon, that he insisted he’d cooked himself. He was lying, but you wouldn’t find out until years after.

So saying yes to a second date was an easy answer. And to a third. A fourth.

Before you knew it, you were going steady, and the day of the product launch was soon approaching. You didn’t know what you’d do after. It’s not like you had everything on the files memorized, so if anyone kidnapped you for information, Gotham would be safe. But likely they’d try anyways and you couldn’t keep dragging Red Robin along on a string.

You’d grown fond of his presence though, telling him secrets or asking for advice about Timberly, and you were disappointed when he rejected your employment offer. Not that it surprised you, he had his own agenda. You weren’t scared of going long distance with Tim, he’d reassured you that the two of you could FaceTime during your 30 minute lunches and that he liked you, like really liked you. And you could believe anything out of his mouth these days. Moreso you were sad you’d miss him, well, them. One was your confidant and the other your lover; leaving felt disheartening.

“Tell me why you like me again,” you asked. You and Tim were bird watching at a local wildlife sanctuary. Even though it was a Saturday, the reserve was big (and unpopular) enough to be sparse. And the stillness of it all gave you enough room to hear yourself think and bask in the ambiance of being around him.

The truth was you didn’t know much. It was impressive how, with the lengths the two of you would talk, you learned nothing about him. Everything centered around you or the city or something other, and you couldn’t control it at all. He was enchantingly skilled at directing conversation.

“Because your eyes sparkle when you talk and your hair is shiny,” he answered.

You nudged his shoulder, making him lower the binoculars he was looking through from his eyes. “That’s not what you said last time.”

“I find new reasons every time I see you!” Handing the binoculars to you, he pointed in the distance at some vague tree. “Look there, I think it’s a blackbird.”

You peered through the lens and after some squinting to try and deliberate branches from feathers, you could see what he was talking about. “Tim that’s a crow.”

“No way,” he took the binoculars back to take another look. After a few seconds he shook his head solemnly, “it’s too small to be a crow. I’m so sorry, but you’re wrong.”

You gasped at the accusation, as if you could ever be wrong, “it’s too big to be a blackbird!” Looking for the bird again to confirm what you saw, you huffed, “its beak isn’t even—“

When you’d whipped around to tell him to look again he caught you off guard, just looking at you with the most serene smile you’d ever seen.

“Yellow,” you finished. “It’d be yellow if it was a blackbird.”

It was one of those where you couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or being genuine, although neither was every far off from the other, overlapping often like the ripples fish make in a pond. In this regard, he was uncannily like Red Robin; you couldn’t tell a thing he was thinking.

A faint whistling sound pierced through the air for a moment, so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for bird song. That moment was all it took for Tim’s expression to change, barking a command for you to duck before pulling you down by your arm anyway. The dull thunk that hit the tree you were leaning on seconds later told you why.

The red tail of a dart was stuck in the trunk where your neck was seconds before. You really couldn’t catch a break. Your head snapped towards the sound of rustling leaves in the direction the dart was fired from.

“Did anything hit you?” he whispered and you shook your head. Before you could think anything else your feet were moving on their own, trying to keep up with him as he weaved through the trees, dragging you along. The grip he had on your wrist burned and under different circumstances you’d have been impressed with his agility through the rough terrain, like a third grader admiring the fastest kid in school.

Despite his talents, you weren’t so graceful and you found yourself tumbling along. In your own way you were gifted with tripping on every root, rock, and stone that littered the ground. If it weren’t for the grip on your wrist you would’ve fallen and given up at the first rock that crossed your path.

He ushered you into a small bird watching cabin before letting you go and closing the door behind him. You gripped your knees trying to catch your breath as he peeked out the windows.

“Stay low, they can shoot through the windows.” You nodded, sliding to the floor with your back to the wall. Instead of sitting beside you, Tim headed straight towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To get help. You’ll be safe here,” he flashed you a reassuring smile. But before he could leave you caught his arm, shaking your head.

“Red Robin’s here, we’ll be okay. Just stay.” This you knew was true because he said he would be, and you didn’t need much more confirmation beyond that. The only thing that irked you about the whole situation was why he was so late, he’d prevented almost everything so far, but you were certain he was rushing over or taking care of it as you spoke.

To your surprise, Tim didn’t budge, looking you dead in the eye with one of those unreadable expressions again. He didn’t tear away from you or do anything intimidating, but it was in the mystery of his expression that you found yourself nervous.

“They’re not far behind. Let me go.” He spoke gently but poignantly, like goading a child. And while it was compelling, as he so often was, it didn’t make sense.

“No he’s here, it’s not safe outside!” It felt like you were begging. In all the time you’d spent together, you knew one thing for certain. Tim wasn’t stupid, and he definitely wasn’t irrational. This was something else, and he wasn’t being himself.

“Y/N.” In your head you ran through a hundred scenarios. Maybe he got hit by a dart and it made him delusional, or maybe he was a robot clone short circuting. But the plea in his voice when he called your name struck you in the same way an apology from the other night did.

He was still as you let go, reaching instead to cover his eyes with your hand. With just half his face in view, you wondered why you’d never seen it before.

“You’re him.” It was almost a whisper, you didn’t even know if he could hear it or not. But it dawned on you as all the coincidences and reconciliations aligned. All down to the cologne he wore.

“No.”He was firm, but his voice wavered. Maybe you imagined it, but nothing he could say now would change your mind. “I just want to get help.”

Gingerly, Tim pushed your hand down and you took a step back, reeling in the thought.

“You’re Red Robin.” In your own head you tried to disprove it, but it made sense. And you almost felt bad for knowing it because you never wanted to know his identity, that was always supposed to be his to keep.

“I’m a blackbird.”

“You’re a robin.”

But time wasn’t on his side. No one else was coming and the perpetrators were advancing. So without a final refute, he took a breath and reached for the door.

“I’ll be back.”

—

tags! @jedidiah1201 @a-taken-url @lara20aral @moonccakes

[wannaeatramyeon]

Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse: Part 2

Part 1 here. G/N. You still work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. Some bizarre characters return. Part 3

Your first day on the job, your boss had told you to greet everyone that comes through the door in a cheery voice and with a customer service smile. All you could think was fuck that.

He told you it was so people could approach you for help, as if your uniform wasn't a huge flashing sign, and so potential shoplifters would be deterred. Again you think, fuck that, because at the first whiff of any danger you're going to go hide somewhere secure and out of sight. There ain't no way you're risking your life for a minimum wage part time job.

Except now you're on your own and sure it comes with a little bit of danger and wariness but you don't have to and don't plan on greeting any people again.

So you thought.

.

.

You spot him a fucking mile away. DG strides through the doors and you're not sure to ignore him completely or to say anything.

It's like he wants you to acknowledge him from the furtive glances he keeps giving you but something about his shifty behaviour makes you keep your mouth shut.

Heavens, hasn't this guy ever heard of subtle. He's in an all white get up once again, hat on, mask on and the most eye-catching blinging Chanel necklace known to man. You think you might go blind if you stare too much at it.

So does he want attention or not?

"Hi," he says, standing in front of the counter. He's empty handed.

You want to say 'Hi DG, going for discreet tonight huh?' or 'Sorry your last album sale sucked' or 'I heard they're cancelling you for bad mouthing BTS'. None of them feel right. You settle on "Welcome. How can I help?"

He asks if you recognise him this time and from the way your eyes bug out to say obviously, he then proceeds to ask how.

You pause because you don't know whether this guy is serious or whether there's a hidden camera somewhere.

After what feels like ten minutes, but in reality is probably ten seconds, you gesture at him. At everything. His hair, his white outfit, his necklace. It’s not exactly like he’s going to blend in with the crowd, is it?

He gives you a nod and leaves.

You watch him exit and proceed to climb into the flashiest car you have ever seen, parked right in front and across three (one, two, THREE!) handicap bays.

You think he's most definitely an attention seeking narcissist.

.

.

The guy that bleeds all over your floor comes in again.

You know it's him because he apologises for bleeding all over your floor and that he scared you so much you called the police. In all honesty, you completely forgot about it but even the mere mention of that pisses you off.

"It's fine," you tell him even though it's not, not really, but at least this time he's not bleeding and he has apologised twice already so as long as he's not gonna be weird, you'll accept his apology.

Except he does turn out to be a weirdo because he gives you a grin and you think he looks pretty cute even with his lip and nose scar, then he makes it weird with a wink and you think what even is this, who winks at people anymore.

He must have mistaken your cringe for encouragement though, as he continues to ask if you need any help with your shift and he can call the boys to help you out tonight as an apology for the other week.

You're not sure if this is a pick up line or if it's a threat. Either way, you decide it's the latter as you make up your mind that he must be a psychopath because only a psychopath would wink at strangers.

You tell him no. He doesn't seem deterred and tells you his name is Jake. Your first thought is to cover the name badge pinned to your chest but he's too quick. He says your name, and that he hopes to see you again.

You give him a nod and hope he leaves.

.

.

This oddball in sunglasses is unbearably smug as he slides his ID over to you.

You check out the date of birth and it's fine.

"It checks out," you give his ID back and ask him to pay for his cigarettes.

"Don't you have anything else to say?"

You frown at him because what does he want you to say? Like oh I knew you were a Capricorn (or is it Aries or Cancer. You don't know, you don't really know your signs). Or does he want you to comment that it's a flattering picture of him on the card because in all honesty, it's not. 

Still, he obviously expects something because he's standing there not doing anything.

"We take cash, card or you can pay through your phone."

That isn't what he's looking for. He tenses up, and you think he rolls his eyes at you but he's got sunglasses on-

Oh. This black eyed bastard. Does he expect an apology for the last time? Well you're not apologising for shit, you're just doing your job. It doesn't matter if he's of age. Rules are rules. No ID, no sale.

You stare at him instead with your polite customer service smile that actually means leave me alone. He stares back.

You stare. He stares back.

You stare - and you think that you must look like an idiot just standing there with a vacant smile but it's worth it in the end because the guy sighs, pays for his cigarettes and leaves.

Good. You hope he chokes on the smoke.

When your temper has cooled, you also feel a pang of sympathy as you wonder what sort of hard life he has had to look like that at 20. Poor guy, he really should quit smoking.

.

.

You're sitting outside on the curb on your break. It's technically loitering, your manager told you the first time he saw you and you consider hitting him because not only do you have to stand under terribly unflattering lights and deal with the goddamn general public for hours - now you can't even sit outside and breathe some fresh air?

Somehow you manage not to, which means you never got arrested for assault and that's pretty good, you suppose. It's nice to not be arrested.

Anyway, he's not here now, and he's not here most shifts so you loiter to your heart's content. You make sure to loiter extra hard tonight.

"What about this? So much better than fucking Duke Pyeon, right?" Someone comes up to you with music blaring out of tinny speakers. You consider sprinting back and locking yourself in the store. It's 4am and nothing good comes from speaking to strangers at 4am who like to blare shitty music.

Except he's not a stranger because you recognise the music style. It's so bad that you know that there is no way two different people on Earth would come up with the same sound. In fact, it actually gives you such a visceral reaction that you look for anything close by to jam in your ears.

There's nothing and you want to cry. For a brief moment you consider bashing your head into the ground.

You hold back, contemplate saying it's fine except you can't bring yourself to lie when it’s so clearly not. It’s not fine at all. You think it might be what the military or covert agencies play to torture people.

You don't look at him, keeping your eyes glued to anywhere but his face and mumble your break is over and rush back in.

He doesn't follow you and you give a brief thanks to whatever great overlord is looking over you and protecting your sense of hearing. 

You wonder if that guy is actually part of an elaborate plan from your boss as punishment for loitering, or if he somehow knew you took an extra seven minutes on your break yesterday and he’s now taking extra precautions so you’re not stealing any more company time.

.

.

The hair dye guy is back, this time buying another colour.

You recognise him from the H on his forehead and you know that he has unsuccessfully dyed his hair because if his hair looked like that last time then there's no way you would have even noticed the H.

It's awful. Blotchy and patchy and you're certain that you don't stock that colour. How on earth...

He tells you he's studying to be a hairdresser.

You never used to think hair could feel pain, but you distinctly hear millions of tiny screams from your own head when it realised this butcher might one day get his hands on innocent people's locks.

.

.

Just when you're on your way home, one foot out the door, you hear someone call you.

"It's me, Y/N!"

Maybe the voice should be familiar but you don't place it at all. You look at the guy towering in front of you with a blank face.

"Daniel." he says, as if that should jog your memory.

Who?? You say nothing.

"Daniel Park." You look him up and down and think what the fuck, this isn't right.

"Daniel. Park." he stresses as if you're the insane one and it's perfectly acceptable for apparently some guy you haven't seen for a year to say hi but look completely different and sound completely different.

You're not an idiot. You know puberty is a thing but jesus christ. It can't be him. Even the bone structure is completely different.

"Ok." you say because you're still not sure if this guy is Daniel or whether he's just crazy. You're 99% sure it's the latter and keep one hand in your pocket, ready to attack with pepper spray.

Although if this is Daniel Park, you wonder how good the plastic surgery technology is these days because you wouldn't mind adding an extra inch or two to your height.

"I'm just in the middle of working out," he says, "in a junkyard." he adds and you wonder what is happening in the world. This guy is definitely insane.

You're a second away from pulling out the spray but then he tells you he's gotta go or else he's going to get beat up (Again. What the fuck.). He says it's good to see you and you tell him likewise because that's the correct thing to say.

You hope you never see this crazy person again but most importantly you think about resigning because this store just seems like a magnet for freaks.

Maybe you can get a job at your boyfriend's Taekwondo studio. Surely the fact you know nothing about Taekwondo wouldn't be an issue.

[shougojo]

CAT ACTION

cw: established relationship, il dan heng x gn! reader, jealousy, fluff, not proofread.

a/n: i got rly bored so i decided to use my old ult acc ⊙﹏⊙ had this acc for like,, 1 yr or 2 - ill get back to action soon !

you had finally convinced dan heng to go take a night stroll around a nearby park. it was close to bed time, referring that it was 10:00pm, but the cool night air was so refreshing that it basically pulled you out.

now, it was just you and dan heng walking, intertwining hands, and grateful for the crickets chirping and fountain’s pouring, or it would be awkward, thus, you two were the only ones at the park.

“meow”

you both turned towards an empty trash can, startled, a cat leaped out before you.

“…”

dan heng froze. you both stared at the cat as both of your shoulders relaxed. after a few good seconds, you gained some confidence to slowly pet the cat. it purred profusely as you pat its head.

“can we keep it?” you gave him your best puppy eyes. the cat was purely white, well, it used to be; since it was covered in dirt and other gunk.

tension filled the air as dan heng made his decision. “fine. but as long as you don’t get too attached to it.” he narrowed his eyes between the cat and you. dan heng slowly wrapped his tail in a protective movement - knowing you might not keep your promise.

~

it’s been two weeks since you last adopted the stray cat. and it turns out… you didn’t keep your promise

ever since that day, you haven’t gone through one day without either patting or cuddling that cat. to make matters worse, the cat seems to be enjoying all the attention it gets. the only time dan heng gets your attention is… well not really ever since then.

“(Name).. my love?”

you’ve been busy scratching the cat you didn’t even notice dan heng. he sighed as he ‘ever so gently’ picked up the cat and placed on the other side of the bed.

“remember our promise?” he reminded.

“oh, i forgot. sorry.” dan heng knew you weren’t sorry. but he ignored it like he always does. he slowly lowered himself to wrap himself around you, then buried his head in the crook of your neck.

“i hate you.” he mumbled.

“i know.” you replied, smiling. and later on, unfortunately, the cat came back right after dan heng fell asleep. maybe another time.

[kate-inhaler-1975]

Apple Cider 🍎 🍂 // Matty Healy

A/N: A very VERY late Promptober No.2....I'm sorry 😭.

CW: Slight mature language and some hints of sexual activity, but you'd have to practically shut your eyes to see it xx

WC: 2,179 words

🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁

Amy would be lying if she said she enjoyed the concert. She truly didn't enjoy it as much as she would have if she had never met Matty, especially if he never gave her his phone number.

"AMS! COME ON, LIGHTEN UP! THIS IS YOUR FAVOURITE SONG!" Eve screamed as she grabbed Amy by the shoulders, shaking her vigorously to the beat of Amy's favourite song, Sex.

While Eve practically frolicked around the back of the pit, Amy stood still, bopping her head slightly while being completely transfixed by him.

His curls freely bounced as he shook his head back and forth, the plain white t-shirt hugging his small frame perfectly. He was hot, but also very pretty to her. Beautiful even.

She never heard back from him. She texted the number hours later. She even rang it in desperation to hear him call her love again.

But she got nothing in return. Not even an "Sorry, I'm busy, can't talk right now.". Nothing, she got nothing.

So, while Eve had the time of her life foaming at the mouth over Ross, Amy just felt deflated the entire night.

When the concert was over, and everyone left the Arena in massive groups, some people staying back because they didn't want to even begin comprehending that the night was over, Amy begged Eve if they could stay for just ten more minutes.

"Evie, please. I'm begging you. What if he gets someone to come get me, or he rings me back and then -"

"Ams, please. Let's just go. If he wants to text you back, he will, but let's not hang around here because we will get kicked out if we don't get a move on." Eve gripped onto Amy's right hand, sending her a sympathetic glance when she noticed how disappointed her best friend was.

Amy knew her best friend was right. If he wanted to, he would. He probably already forgot about her, and if that was the case, she doesn't really blame him.

Amy was just some baker with a large enough following in Ireland on social media and getting on with her normal day to day life. Where Matty is a rockstar having number one albums and touring the world, and probably needing or wanting a significant other that was on his level or close enough to it.

"Come on, let's go have a few drinks and get some food. I don't know about you, but I'm fucking hanging for a bag of chips with a shit load of salt and vinegar." Eve completely swerved from the subject of Matty as she pulled Amy by her elbow, linking arms with her as they walked back out into the cold and wet Dublin night.

"I just don't understand why he would even give me his number in the first place if he isn't going to bother dropping me even a short and simple text. What a dick!" Amy whined in dismay.

"Please, Amy Elizabeth Mitchell, I fucking beg of you. Stop talking about hi-."

"Wait! Shut the fuck up for a minute. I think someone's ringing me." Amy's eyes went wide as she searched for her phone that was buzzing in her small green handbag.

Her heart stopped beating for a split second when his name flashed up on the screen, her mind considering letting it ring out to return the favour of him, not answering her text or call.

"If you don't answer it, I will." Eve grabbed the phone out of Amy's hand. One slip of her thumb, and she would've answered the call.

"Hey! Stop! Give me that." With a forceful grab of the phone and accidentally jerking Eve forward with it, Amy retrieved her phone.

"Be normal!" Eve called out as Amy walked to a quieter area outside of the Arena.

"Hello?" She spoke in fake confusion. Pretending like she had no clue who was ringing her.

"Hiya, Amy. It's me, Matty. You doing alright, love?"

There it was. Love. Her new favourite word.

"Ahhh, hello! Me and Eve are just after walking out of the Arena. You guys were fucking amazing!" She looked down at her feet, trying to hide the giddy smile that was appearing across her face.

She felt like a teenager experiencing her first boyfriend.

"You didn't look like you had that much fun." He chuckled. He could see her from the stage because he was actively searching for her.

He looked as far into the seated part of the crowd as he could, but there was no sign of her. So then he turned to the standing area, quickly taking a good look at as many people as he could when the house lights came on at one point by his request.

And there she was, hair curled and perfectly framing her face with a black corset top and a large leather jacket, her tight black leather skirt with fishnets and heeled black leather boots.

She was a goddess.

She was mesmerising.

She was so mesmerising to him that he messed up the lyrics to It's Not Living (If It's Not With You).

"Wait, you could see me?" She gasped in embarrassment and shock, feeling so ashamed for standing there like a statue in a crowd full of feral fans (which she was once upon a time).

"As soon as I spotted you, I couldn't stop looking at you. That mate of yours seemed to have the time of her life, though."

"Don't tell her I said this, but I think she's slightly obsessed with that bassist of yours."

Oh, Eve would kill her if she found out she said such a thing to Matty.

"Well, listen, Ross is a man of his own. Everyone loves Ross."

"She definitely loves Ross. I can tell you that for love nor money."

The two of them giggled and chuckled like teens down the phone. Anyone who would listen to their conversation would think that they were totally in love and in the honeymoon stage.

"Amy, I hope it's not too late, but I'm staying in The Shelbourne Hotel on....is it Grafton Street?"

"No, St. Stephens Green. Close enough, though."

"Ah well. Anyways, would you like to have a drink with me at the hotel bar? If you want, you can bring Eve along with you, if that makes you feel more comfortable?"

For Amy, there was only one simple answer to that.

Yes.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Are you sure you'll be okay. You won't have a massive fangirl moment if he kisses you, and then you end up fainting or something like that?" Eve questioned one last time as she gave Amy a cuddle outside the beautiful 5-star hotel.

"I can promise you he won't kiss me. That'd be stupid of him."

"It would be stupid of him to NOT kiss you! Look at you! You are the sexiest and probably most fashionable woman to roam the streets of Dublin tonight! Now, go get your arse in their and make eighteen year old Amy proud."

Eve gave Amy a cheeky tap on her bum as she walked away from her. Leaving Amy nearly breaking out in a rash at the thought of anyone catching her best friend smacking her butt.

The doorman opened the left side of the door for her, giving her a polite smile and wishing her a goodnight.

Amy could only smile back at him and pray in her head that it would be a good night.

Amy had stayed in The Shelbourne Hotel before after getting asked to an event of some sort. She loved it, and it's interior, oh and of course it's history.

She adored history.

It was like something out of a romantic movie.

Meeting the handsome man in a fancy hotel bar, and if you add the rockstar part, it's even more unbelievable and movie like.

The bar, called No.27, was filled with casual elegance. The cocktails nearly sparkled in their glory while the neatly poured and precise pints seemed to be served with style.

Even though the pint of Guinness that the man sitting on one of the navy leather bar stools was drinking looked mouth wateringly appetising, the thing that shined and showed class the most was Matty.

He sat alone at the rectangular and heightened black marble table beside one of four large windows that faced the front of the hotel. His fingers messing with the condensation on the glass of his own pint of Guinness.

The kind woman at the front of house directed Amy to Matty when she pointed at him, the two of them walking towards him instantly catching his eye and snapping him out of his daydream that was about her.

"Hi." He smiled as he got off his chair, placing a hand on her shoulder as he leaned in to give her a kiss on both of her frost bitten cheeks.

"Hiya!" She spoke in a cheerful tone, returning the favour by giving him a gentle kiss on his left cheek.

"Here, let me get that for you." He quickly moved to pull the chair across from him out for Amy to sit on. His mind ran through all the steps he could possibly think of that made him seem like a true gentleman so he could impress her.

"Thank you very much. God, it's a cold one out there, isn't it?" Amy shivered as she took off her jacket. Rubbing her hands together aggressively, praying that the friction would bring heat back into them.

"It really is! Thankfully, it's nice and toasty in here. Oh, and I'm really sorry about earlier. I know it took me a while to reply, and I wasn't ignoring you or anything. I was just really busy getting ready for the show and-"

"Matty, please don't apologise. If anything, I should be apologising for coming off a bit needy. If, and only if you'd really like to make it up to me, you can buy me a pint of cider. Maybe even two." She hinted cheekily. Her eyes glistened with excitement and happiness.

"Cider? Why cider? I would take you more as a cosmopolitan kind of girl, but a cider drinker? No way." Matty teased, lightly kicking her foot under the table.

"Well, don't make assumptions about someone you know nothing about."

"Well, if I get to know you, then I won't have to make any assumptions. Will I, gorgeous?"

Matty lightly brushed her hand from across the table, sending her a quick teasing smile before heading up to the bar to order her a pint of her favourite cider.

The topics of conversation between the two of them were endless. Each of them learned about each others lives, their equal amount of love for music and literature, and Matty was fixated on her love for baking and how passionate she was about it.

He was completely drawn to the way she'd sit up straighter when she spoke about her job, or spoke about how her grandmother used to make apple tart every Sunday for dessert, or how it's basically therapy for her and she feels content and free of everyone and everything when she's in the kitchen.

"Actually, now that you've mentioned the whole baking on social media thing. I have a confession." Matty's cheeks ballooned slightly as he held in a laugh while thinking about George's excitement when the two of them finally found Amy's instagram and tiktok account.

"Oh god, go on. Spit it out." Amy cringed and tensed up in fear as to what he might say.

"George and Charli, his girlfriend, are fucking obsessed with your baking videos. He had a proper fangirl moment when he found out who you were."

"Wait! George Daniel and Charli XCX know who the fuck I am!?" Amy nearly spat out her cider all over Matty, her jaw dropping at what he'd just said.

"I'm being serious! The two of them were on the phone absolutely delighted with life. They're gonna love you when they meet you."

"When they meet me? Who said they'd ever meet me, Healy?" Amy held eye contact with him as she took another sip of her cider with a smirk on her face.

Her heart fluttering and an area further down south fluttering at his words.

"I guess I was just being a man and assuming that you'd like to keep in contact. Sorry about that." Matty stumbled on his words while trying to back track what he'd said. He was worried that maybe what he thought was a date wasn't anywhere near a date in her own head.

If only he could read her mind.

"You assumed correctly, Matty. I'd love to stay in contact with you more than anything. Might be a bit difficult, but I think that we should give it a go. See what happens, you know?" Her cheeks flushed as she felt a wave of confidence wash over her, leaning over the table to interlock their hands together.

Matty's calloused thumbs automatically tracing circles over her knuckles.

"How about I order us both another cider, and maybe we could take it up to my room. Just an idea, though." He spoke lowly as he himself leaned closer to her, their faces now only inches apart.

"You know what. I'll cheers to that idea, Healy."

[dinsverdika]

Hunter's well-earned TLC (one shot)

Pairing: Hunter/Reader

Tags (as posted on AO3): smut, established relationship, flirting, back massage, dry humping, oral (m receiving), teasing, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, vaginal sex (unprotected), fluff, cuddling, takes place in season 2 after episode 5, reader is AFAB (forgot to add this one, sorry)

Word count: 4,720

Notes:

Pet names used: good boy (for Hunter); good girl and pet (for reader.)

You were focused on your task as Hunter let out a sigh. It would’ve not worried you if it hadn't been the fifth time in the past two minutes. You looked up from the glass you were drying, greeted by the sight of Hunter scraping his hand over his face. You put the now dry glass under the counter Hunter was leaning on as your gaze scanned his face. His features were pulled, a deep frown above his eyes was making him look grumpier than usual. His knuckles had turned white as he gripped on his glass, bottoming it out. 

A loud clattering sound resonated in the almost empty bar as he slammed the glass down on the counter. Sympathy washed over you as he winced at the loud sound. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally looking at you. 

He sounded exhausted. You hadn’t exchanged a word since he had entered the bar. His slouched posture and the way he'd let himself drop onto one of the many stools in front of the counter told you everything you needed to know. You’d prepared his favourite drink that you knew by heart and let him sip in silence as you resumed working behind the bar. It was a quiet night, almost the end of your shift. 

“You seem tense,” you stated, putting your hand on the tiny space between his pauldron and neck which wasn't covered in armour.

The slight squeeze you gave him brought his attention to you. He sighed again, threaded your fingers together and brought your joined hands down on the counter.

“It’s been a rough couple of days,” he agreed. 

He dropped his gaze to your joined hands and watched your thumb caressing the back of his hand, the gesture appeased him a little.

“You need some rest and some pampering, too,” you said. 

He hummed in agreement. His features had softened a bit.

“I’ve been missing you, too,” he admitted almost in a whisper.

Warmth spread in your chest.

“So have I,” you replied. 

A few seconds of silence passed before you spoke again, “I’m free tonight.��� Your eyes darted to the chrono on the wall behind Hunter, “my shift is almost over.” 

Bashfulness took over you as the words escaped your lips.

This thing between you and Hunter was not exactly new. A game of cat and mouse had started not long after Hunter, his brothers and little Omega in tow, had entered Cid’s bar many months ago.

You’d learnt to know each other with flirtatious conversations, gentle touches here and there, knowing looks thrown at each other across the bar. The growing tension between you was oblivious to nobody but you two. There was an easy-going chemistry bonding you together, making you miss his presence when he was gone on missions. Hunter found himself growing fidgety the longer he went without seeing you, too.  

Hunter had given you his private comm channel when he came back, allowing you to keep in touch, putting both of your feelings at ease while you were separated.

Long months passed like this. Long months of mutual pining and self doubt.

It’d finally come to an end when, one night after Cid had shooed away the last customer and you were done gathering your belongings, you walked out of your workplace and were greeted by the sight of Hunter leaning on the wall adjacent to the bar entryway. Seeing him had been a pleasant surprise, you couldn’t help but notice how nervous he looked. He seemed out of his element which was unusual. 

“I- um,” he had started, threading his fingers in the back of his head, “I was wondering if you’d be interested in getting Mantell Mix with me.”

The eyebrow you had cocked at him did nothing to ease his nerves. 

“Mantell Mix?” you asked. “I thought you didn’t like it?” 

“Well,” he began, “I’ve never actually tried it but Omega and Wrecker seem obsessed with it.” He finished his sentence with a shrug that he wanted to be nonchalant, “I may as well try it.” 

His heart had skipped a beat as a bright smile appeared on your face. The skipped beat was quickly replaced as his heart began to pound in his chest as you’d accepted his offer.

You’d spent the evening sharing a box of Mantell Mix, walking around Ord Mantell as you flowed easily in and out conversations. The role of Hunter’s personal tour guide had been bestowed upon you as you found yourself pointing at diverse buildings and telling their histories. The clone’s attention was entirely on you as he listened to you talk, mesmerised with how beautiful and passionate you looked. Your face turned warm as you noticed how his eyes would linger on your lips before darting back up to your eyes. 

The sun had long set when your evening came to an end. Hunter had walked you back to your apartment. The atmosphere was tense and awkward as you gazed at each other, not ready to say goodbye just yet. Your unwillingness to let Hunter go pushed you to invite him inside your place. To your surprise, Hunted had accepted and followed you inside. The reminiscence of what had happened after the door had been locked shut fuzzed out as Hunter’s raspy voice pulled you away from your thoughts. 

“Is that an invitation?” he asked, a barely visible smirk pulling on the corners of his lips.

You matched his expression, the memories of your first night together had washed away the bashfulness you were feeling before. You leaned over the counter and whispered against his ear, “only if you want it to be.”

Your warm breath against the shell of his ear sent a shiver up his spine 

The sound of your front door clicking shut had barely the time to reach your ears that Hunter’s hands were already on your hips. He turned you around and smashed his lips against yours in an eager kiss. A surprised gasp escaped your lips as your back hit the door behind you. A shiver trembled through you as Hunter's hands felt you up, going up and down your sides; urging you to deepen the kiss. Hunter moaned into the kiss as you licked his bottom lip. Sighs of relief were heard as you tasted each other. 

His touch on you made you feel dizzy with want, lust fogging up your head. Yet, you were the one who broke the kiss first.

Your eyes lingered on Hunter’s lips, they were swollen and glossy. 

“Hunter,” you whispered as he draped his lips over yours once more.

You reciprocated the kiss before breaking it again. “Hunter,” you called out again.

Your pointing finger on his lips as he leaned down to kiss you again stopped him dead in his tracks and snapped him back into the moment. You watched as his eyes widened slightly, his pupils going back and forth between your eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort. Your other hand was laid flat on his chest plate, the armorplast it was made of felt cold beneath it. It was an unpleasant barrier between your hand and his chest.

“You’re supposed to rest,” you said. 

“This is my idea of resting,” he rasped out. 

His lips was on yours again and you indulged him, craving his kisses as much as he did yours. You eased into the kiss once more, threading your fingers into his hair. They reached the knot of his bandana and slightly pulled on it. Hunter smiled against your lips. 

“You’re always so eager to take it off,” he teased. 

“There’s many things I’m eager to take off,” you teased back. 

Hunter leaned his face down again, a smirk decorating his face but you pulled back before his lips could reach yours. 

“But first,” you began. “There’s something I wanna do for you. Something that will help you unwind.” 

He lifted an eyebrow at you, “what is it?” 

You removed yourself from his embrace and made your way to your bedroom. 

“Follow me and you’ll find out,” you instructed, throwing at him a knowing look over your shoulder. 

The pillow Hunter sank his face into felt soft on his skin, the scent of your conditioner filled his nose as he inhaled, the tension of the past couple of days already seeping out of his body. His bandana had been placed on your nightstand. You’d helped him take his armour off, distracting each other with kisses and teasing touches. The pieces of his armour were now laying neatly on one of the shelves in your wardrobe. His shelf, you’d cleared it for him months ago with the intention to make him feel at home.

You’d taken care of the clothes he wore underneath his armour by throwing them into your washing machine in your en-suite bathroom with the promise that they’ll be washed and dried by the time he’ll need to leave for yet another mission. The only piece of clothing that Hunter left on was his boxers. You were in the same state of undress as him, only your underwear had been left on.

Hunter felt your gaze on his back as you recentered yourself. A tickling sensation went up his spine as your eyes focused on the defined muscles of his back.

“Enjoying the view?” he teased, turning his face to look at you. The tattooed side of his face was comfortably lying on your pillow, almost hidden in its fluffy fabric as he threw a soft smile at you.

“I am not,” you scoffed. 

It was his turn to scoff. “Sure,” he replied. 

You chose not to answer, he’d caught you red-handed and there was no point in denying it further. You stepped towards your nightstand and pulled the drawer open. You fished around the drawer until your hand found the familiar shape of the massage oil. Hunter watched you retrieving the oil, his eyes lingering on your body as well.

“So…” began Hunter, “what is it that you wanna do to me?”

You straddled his waist and sat on his butt. 

“When was the last time you were granted a back massage,” you asked as you squirted some of the oil in the palm of your hand. 

You rubbed your hands together, warming the oil as Hunter hummed, searching for an answer to your question. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had one,” he finally said. 

“Well,” you replied, “there’s a first time for everything. Get comfortable and let me work through these knots.” 

Hunter let out a noise of agreement and wiggled underneath you until he was fully comfortable. Once he was settled, you began the massage by gliding your hands in long, even strokes up and down his back, spreading the oil evenly all across the area. The pressure you were applying on his back were to the minimum. Yet, a pleasant sighed breached Hunter’s lips.

When you were done spreading the oil, you began applying short, circular motions on each side of his lower back, working the tension out of his muscles. The pressure was now a little firmer, Hunter grew putty underneath your hands. A smile spread on your face, satisfied with how receptive he was to your touch. Your satisfaction grew tenfold when Hunter visibly shivered under you as you glided your hands over a sensitive spot. Hunter hummed in pleasure as you focused on the said sensitive spot. 

Once the knot had been worked with, you shifted motions and positioned your thumbs at the bottom of his spine; on each side of it. You slid your thumbs up his spine in quick fanning motions. A moan escaped Hunter’s lips, slightly muffled by the pillow as you reached the middle of his spine. 

“Here, just right here,” he pleaded. 

“Right here?” you asked, applying more pressure on the sensitive spot. 

Hunter nodded and grunted as you massaged the spot. You grew flustered as the massage went on, suggestive noises and sighs ripping through Hunter’s throat. A familiar warmth licked the insides of your belly as you worked the tension out of his sore back. 

Arousal had gathered between your legs as you reached the top of his back. You gently pushed his hair over his shoulders. You placed your hands on his shoulders and began drawing deep circles in the nape of his neck.

“Maker,” he rasped out. “That’s the spot.”

Hunter’s hardened cock was pressed against your mattress. He was instinctively rolling his hips into it, stimulating you in the process.

“You’re definitely carrying all of your tension there,” you hummed. 

A lustful haze had fogged up your head as you applied more pressure on the area. Muted waves of pleasure washed over you as you rubbed your clit on his butt. 

Your thumbs were quickly replaced by wet, open-mouthed kisses. The flames of arousal grew in intensity in your lower belly, Hunter let out a raspy moan. 

You peppered his broad shoulders with kisses, the taste of the oil and his taste mixing together on your tastebuds. The hair on his body stood on end as your warm breath hit his skin. 

"Is this still a back massage?" asked Hunter, lust evident in his tone. 

He was rutting onto the mattress, now. Arousal having fully consumed him. 

"No," you exhaled. 

You leaned back up and pushed yourself up on your knees. "Turn around," you demanded. 

Hunter quickly turned on his back, his hands swiftly grabbing your hips. His rough hands pushed them down, bringing your clothed centre on his straining cock. Two gasps resonated in the room, half-crest moons digging into your hips as Hunter's grip tightened. 

You reached back with your hands and undid your bra, hastily throwing it beside your bed. Hunter sat up and took one of your nipples in his mouth, gently sucking it. His hand snaked up your body and cupped your other breast before massaging it tenderly. You threw your head back with a deep sigh. 

Hunter whimpered against your skin as you threaded your fingers in his hair, scratching his scalp in the process. Hunter released your nipple, his lips swollen with desire, before covering your other nipple with his lips. 

Tingles spread across your skin as his hands slid around your body and reached your back. His roaming hands on your body electrified you, urging you to tug on his hair. With a gasp, Hunter let go of your nipple and looked up at you with half-lidded eyes. 

You leaned down and caught his lips in a slow, sensual kiss. The tip of your tongue slid over his bottom lip, Hunter slightly opened his mouth, his tongue playing with yours. 

Hunter nipped on your bottom lip, leaned back and released your lip, letting it snap back in place. His back hit your mattress as you pushed on his shoulders. 

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, the quick kisses you were leaving across his collarbone set his skin on fire. Arousal fully engulfed him as you felt him twitch under your clothed cunt. Your own arousal was seeping through your underwear onto his clothed cock. 

You kissed your way down his body, biting and licking spots you knew were sensitive, until your lips reached the waistband of his boxers. Your wetness had stained it, the fabric sticking to his hardened shaft, not leaving much to the imagination. 

"Shall we take these off?" you asked, a devilish smirk on your face.

Hunter's chest was heaving as he registered your question. You palmed him through his underwear, his hands fisted the sheets. 

"We haven't done anything yet and you're already gone," you teased. 

A strangled noise breached Hunter’s lips as the tip of your tongue slid over the base of his cock to the tip, tasting yourself on him fuel the flames of arousal present in-between your thighs. 

"Please," he rasped out. "I- I wanna," he struggled to say as you resumed peppering kisses on the skin above his waistband, the hair of his treasure trail tickling the tip of your nose. 

"What do you want, Hunter?" you asked. 

He let out a disappointed whine as you licked up to his belly button, furthering away from where he wanted you the most. 

"I can't help you if you don't tell me what you want," you said. "Come on, Hunter. Be a good boy and use your words." 

"Your mouth," let out Hunter. "I want your mouth, please." 

He felt you smirk against his abdomen. Relief coursed through him as his eyes fluttered open and saw you hooking your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. 

The piece of clothing quickly joined your bra on the floor as you focused your attention on Hunter's cock. It was straining against his stomach and glistening with your arousal, your mouth was watering to taste him. 

A shaky oh from Hunter reached your ears as you gave Hunter's tip a first tentative lick. You were almost shy with it, Hunter was looking down at you as you wrapped your lips around it. His head dropped back down on the pillow as you swirled your tongue around his tip. Your warm, wet mouth enveloping him almost pushed him over the edge of bliss.

You pulled another strangled noise out of him as you hummed around him, pleasure crashing over him in several, intense waves. Pearls of his precum spread on your tastebuds, his taste making you dizzy with lust. Hunter's mouth opened as you took him deeper, moans escaping his lips with no restrain. 

"This feels so good," he said. 

You released him with a muted pop, your hand circling around his shaft as your mouth trailed down to his balls. Pleasure submerged him as you sucked on them. Goosebumps spread on your skin as you felt Hunter's hand grabbing you by the nape of your neck. 

His cock was left untouched as you slipped a hand between your thighs. A gasp ripped through you, your fingertips were met with your wetness, soaking your underwear and inner-thighs. You ran your fingers through your folds, coating them with your arousal. 

Hunter's jaw clenched as you grabbed him once more. A guttural sound breached his gritted teeth, the hand going up and down his shaft threatening to send him over the edge. 

His back arched off the bed as you pushed him deeper in your mouth, your tongue dragging on the underside of his shaft; tasting your own arousal on him. 

Hunter's hand on your neck secured you in place as your nose reached his pubic hair. Hunter hummed as you stayed still, holding your breath and letting him twitch in your throat.

You gasped for air as you released him again, your laboured breath hitting Hunter's cockhead straight on.

A playful chuckle made its way up your throat as your eyes darted up to his face. His eyes were glossy with want, a thin layer of sweat was complimenting his skin. 

Hunter visibly swallowed as you grabbed his cock by the base. The sensitive, reddened skin of his tip was met with the silky feeling of your mouth again.

The waves of pleasure quickly turned into a storm, sweeping Hunter away, as you suckled on him. Your hand swiftly joined your mouth to bring him over the edge of bliss. Your other hand fondled his balls, his loud moans spurring you on.

Hunter's lower stomach trembled under your ministrations. He was close.

"I'm close," gasped Hunter, confirming your statement. 

Grunts of pleasure filled the room as his orgasm finally overtook him, his release painting your tongue and the back of your throat. 

Hunter's vision was still blurry as he blinked his eyes open, the mattress he was laying on felt like he was drifting away on a cloud. His muscles felt like cotton as he slowly lifted one arm up, wiping away the strays of hair stuck to his forehead. His gaze moved to you, you were sitting on your heels in-between his legs, a satisfied smile was decorating your face. 

"Welcome back to the world of the living," you said in a singsong. 

The smile on your face only spread even bigger as he called out your name in a deep exhale. 

"Are you feeling better?" you asked.

Hunter nodded. "Definitely," he replied. "This is what I needed, thank you." 

You laughed softly and straddled him again, leaned down on his chest and nuzzled the spot below his ear. "You're very welcome," you said, planting an open-mouthed kiss on his skin.

You laid on top of him until Hunter recovered from his orgasm. You relished in each other's skin-to-skin contact. Hunter was lazily drawing random shapes on your back as you played with his chest hair. 

A shiver made you tremble as Hunter's featherlight touches travelled down your back, tickling you. A smirk tugged on the corners of your mouth as his hand groped your asscheek.

"Already ready for more, Sergeant?" you asked, gazing up at him. 

Hunter traced your eyebrow, slid down your temple, over your cheek, slid across your bottom lip until his pointing finger reached the middle of it. He pulled on it, the bottom row of your teeth catching his attention before it disappeared once more behind your lip as it snapped back in place. 

Feverish want glossed over his eyes as they darted back to your eyes. You felt him growing hard under you. 

"I'm taking this for a yes, then," you said. 

Hunter flipped the two of you around before another teasing remark could leave your lips. He lodged his hips between your thighs, feeling his hardened shaft against your core reignited the flames of arousal in your lower tummy. 

Hunter planted a quick kiss on your lips and learned back on the balls of his feet, looking down at your glistening cunt. 

"You're soaked," he said lowly, almost sounding mesmerised. 

Air hitched in your throat as his thumb went through your slick folds. His other hand was laid flat on your inner thigh, keeping your legs spread open for him. A low rumble vibrated in his chest as his thumbpad caressed your clit, your hips tilting up at him at the contact. 

"How do you want me?" he asked in a whisper. The question went straight to your cunt, Hunter looked satisfied with how pliant you were under his touch. 

You gasped as his pointing finger penetrated you, meeting no resistance as it slid into you. 

"I've asked you a question," he reminded you. His finger thrusting in and out of you at a painfully slow pace. 

A crease appeared between your eyebrows as you tried to make sense of his words through the lustful haze clouding your head. You heard Hunter chuckling above you. He leaned down until his chest was pressed against yours, his mouth tickling the shell of your ear. 

"It's not so fun when the roles are reversed, is it?" 

The taunting tone he used made you whine in despair. You tried thrusting your hips onto his fingers, seeking that one spot that will-

"Oh," you moaned. Your back arching off the bed as Hunter tilted his hand, the new angle stimulating the spongy, sensitive spot within you. 

He chuckled against your ear. "You still haven't answered me, pet," he taunted you. 

"You," you whimpered. "I want you, Hunter." 

Your hips were rolling in sync with his hand, pleasure coursing through your veins.

Hunter kissed your ear. "Good girl," he added. He smirked as he felt you clenching around his finger. 

The warmth of his body was quickly replaced by the cool air of the room as he leaned back on his heels once more. 

He gently shushed you as you whined at the sudden loss, his thumb drawing soothing circles in your inner thigh. He took himself in his other hand, going up and down his length a couple of times before guiding the tip of his cock through your folds. 

A surprised hiccup ripped through you as his tip teased your entrance. 

"Ready?" he asked, sinking his gaze into yours. 

You nodded. "Yes." 

Your mouth dropped open on a silent moan while Hunter rolled his head back as your wet warmth welcomed him. Each of his thrusts were met with ease as he pushed deeper and deeper into you until your crotches were flushed together. 

Sighs of relief resonated in the room as Hunter stayed still, letting you accomodate to the sweet intrusion. His forearms were caging your head while your hands were going up and down his sides. Your mouths were so close to one another that you could breathe each other's air. The moment of sensual intimacy bonding you closer together. 

Hunter sealed your lips together in a tender kiss. He set a languorous pace, rolling his hips into you. Pleasure spread from where you were joined to the tips of your limbs, moaning into each other's mouths. 

You broke the kiss first as Hunter's cock dragged over your sensitive spot. You exhaled his name, Hunter's eyes gazed over your face contorted by pleasure. Warmth bloomed in his chest as you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer to you. 

Bliss engulfed you as Hunter picked up the pace, the sound of flesh clapping joined your moans and gasps. With your arms wrapped tight around his torso, your orgasm grew tighter in your belly with each thrust. Hunter switched angles, allowing his pubic bone to rub on your bundle of nerves. The added stimulation made your eyes roll as a raspy moan ripped through your throat. 

You gave as good as you got, meeting him half-way as you rolled your hips in sync with his. Hunter let out short exhales everytime your hips would meet, drawing you close to your release. Hunter, sensing your orgasm approaching, slid his arms under you, wrapping the both of you in a warm cocoon of pleasure. 

"Are you getting close?" he asked. 

"Yes," you exhaled. "I'm very close." 

Hunter peppered kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck. "I want you to cum on my cock," he added, deepening his thrusts into you. "Can you do that for me?" 

His sweet, dirty words had an immediate effect on you as he felt you clenching around him. "That's it, pet. Be good for me," he whispered in your ear. "Give it to me." 

He caught the skin below your ear between his lips and sucked on it until the skin had reddened. His own orgasm was creeping up on him, threatening him to spill his load into you. 

"Please," he begged. "Please, come for me." 

His pleading finally pushed you over the edge. Your nails sank into his back as your toes curled under the overwhelming pleasure. Cries of ecstasy left your mouth as Hunter's thrusts lost their rhythm, your walls clenching around his cock; pushing him over the edge of bliss as well. 

Ropes of his cums painted your inner walls as he grunted into your ear, his hips driving into you deeply a couple of times before coming to a halt. 

Hunter's weight was comforting on top of you, soft moans breached your lips as his cock twitched within you. You stayed in that position while recovering from your shared orgasm, heaving and pressed against one another. 

Hunter was the one to fully come back to his senses first, tearing his face away from your neck to gaze at your face. 

You met his eyes, you wondered if you looked as blissed out as he was. "This was amazing," you said, your voice slightly hoarse. 

"It was," replied Hunter. 

He planted a soft kiss on your mouth. "Thank you," he said.

You cupped his face. "Thank you." 

Another kiss was pressed on your lips before Hunter untangled himself from your embrace. You watched his back muscles moving as he made his way to your en-suite bathroom. 

He came back with a wet cloth and took the time to clean you off. It wasn't long before Hunter was back in your arms, under the blanket as you shared lazy kisses; your shared orgasm still having its effects on your bodies. 

You fell asleep together with barely any other words exchanged between the two of you, letting oxytocin drift your bodies and minds into a well-needed slumber.

[thequarterkid]

Teen!Michael Afton x fem!reader

Chapter 3

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(Main updates on Wattpad, same user)

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Y/N needed to pick up some groceries, their fridge and cabinets were running a little too low in her opinion. She went over to the closest corner store to get what she needed, although she had to walk because of her bike disappearing faster than a dad.

The walk wasn't too long but the heat of the sun did not help, but she was was relieved to feel the cool rush off air as soon as she went inside the store. It was like a very much welcomed hug, making her stand by the door a minute and take it in.

Y/N walked around the place, slowly scanning the selves for what she needed, the list in her head kept her focused. Eyes glued into the items, at few times she picked something and checked it off her mental list. She wanted to get a better look at the self so she backed up and bumped into the person behind her, she jumped when she did it and instantly whipped around to apologize.

The boy, Michael. He faced her wide eyed until he recognised her. "Bike girl!" He greeted her with a smile. "I didn't expect to see you so soon!" He held 3 packs of gum in his left hand and a soda in the other.

"Oh hey, uh, Michael!" She, forgot his name for a second which have her a mini heart attack. "Sorry for bumping into you." Y/N was really glad she didn't make Michael drop anything, it would have been so much worse. Also, 'bike girl'? What was with the nickname, did he forget her name as well?

"Nah, it's fine!" he waved his gum filled hand and dismissed it. "What are you buying? " Michael asked as the two started strolling down the small isles, Y/N 's gaze being on the shelves. Every step they took could be heard through the quietness of the corner store.

"I just need to pick up some groceries for dinner and what not, I'm hoping to cook up some soup- don't ask me what kind, I have no idea." She smiled as she talked and she was grateful that Michael was listening to her ramble. "I haven't made anything like that in a while so I hope it goes well." Y/N grabbed some cans off the shelf.

He had huffed out a laugh, "I'm sure it'll be fine, you're probably a great cook." His comment made Y/N shake her head, it was nice of Michael. He looked at her with a grin, showing off his rather white teeth. "I'm serious! You know, how about I come over for dinner, maybe help out a little, and taste test it for you! That way you'll know I'm right, like always."

She stopped walking and turned to look at him, although a smile was still plastered on her face. "Are you just trying to get free food out of me? Because if so.."

"What? No!" He laughed, "I'll carry your grocery bags all the way back to your house if you let me in for dinner, honest!" Michael had put the gum and drink he was buying onto the counter to be paid for. "Maybe just think of it as me saying sorry for almost smashing into your brother —because I am!" He felt the need to add on that last part.

Y/N signed sarcastically and rolled her eyes, she smirked as she dragged out the sentence, "I guess I'll have to let you." Y/N looked him directly in eyes, "I just couldn't let a poor soul like you starve!"

"Ha, ha." He responded to her sarcasm with a bit of his own, slamming the cash onto the counter. Never once did he stop looking at her, a single eyebrow raised.

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[heartbeatan]

The Art of Revenge (Chapter 3)

Return to Chapter 2.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Jungkook Fanfictions.

Return to One Nights Series.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 3

For the brief, quiet moments after you stepped into Jungkook’s foyer, your nerves slipped away as you forgot why you were in his home at all. As mentioned, you hadn’t gotten a good look at the inside of the house the one and only time you had been there. You had a tent, and only entered through the mudroom to use the toilet and - if you were lucky - the shower.

But now, walking through the front door, and stepping into the main space bathed in the bright, warming light of the sun, you were awe-struck. The entire interior was made of poplar wood - from the live-edge wall planks, the trunk beams, to the paneled ceiling. The natural orange shade of the wood wasn’t over-bearing or too rustic - perhaps because Jungkook’s furniture and decor was so airy and light. Most rooms opened to each other, yet were divided by a slight change in elevation, with the main hall acting essentially as a catwalk between them all. To the right was the living room, which was about three stair steps below where you stood. Its West-facing wall was nothing but tall glass windows. The North wall, of course, had a large, stone fireplace that looked as if it should have several antlers displayed above it. The back of the living room was lined with some more stairs - two-steps up to the kitchen area, and five-steps up to what you assumed was some sort of dining room nook. There were so many windows. So much natural light.

You peered ahead through the hall, and noticed a few more doors and openings - all also trimmed with stair cases that either took you up or down. Although you couldn’t see much of it, the space at the end of the hall was pure white, and de-elevated a bit deeper than the rest of the rooms. You assumed it was his studio - there was no other reason to cover up such beautiful architecture if it weren't for functionality. Your eyes followed another set of stairs upwards, and you noticed there was a partial second level. Just a straight hallway, leading to what you assumed were two bedrooms and maybe a bathroom. It was lined with wrought iron banisters, which overlooked the many rooms below.

“Victoria’s Secret?” You were suddenly jolted out of your trance, jumping slightly as you were reminded that Jungkook was standing just behind you.

“Sorry?” you twisted around, looking at him confused.

“Your bag,” he nodded to the wide, stiff paper shopping bag you had clutched in your hands. “You did a little shopping?”

“Oh!” you looked down to see the company’s name scrolled across the paper, which at one point only housed your wedding lingerie. “I, um, didn’t really go home after… everything. This is my suitcase for now, I guess,” you shrugged.

“Makes sense. There’s not a lot of those types of fancy stores on the way up here.”

“Yeah,” you smiled, thinking of how difficult it was to find even a discount store. “Sorry to disappoint. If things were different, I would have come... better prepared.”

Jungkook’s mouth curved, and you liked what it implied. He was thinking about you… and lingerie… and you liked how the image it painted reflected in his eyes. He stepped towards you, slowly and casually - not in any way aggressive or threatening. But - it felt threatening as he closed the space between you. Threatening in a thrilling way. You once again became hyper aware of his size, of his tall legs and broad shoulders, feeling like you were being dwarfed by his physicality as well his mere existence. His eyes were on yours, glinting with a touch of mischief as he stepped just too suggestively close to you. Then he bent slightly at the waist, and you felt his fingers brush over yours as he grabbed a hold of the string handles of your bag.

“Lemme help you with your suitcase, then” he said, a wry grin teasing his lips as he curved his tongue around the words, and slipped the bag out of your hands - respectfully leaving your purse with you. He had brains.

You exhaled a smile, realizing he was teasing you - and also realizing that somewhere within the past few seconds, you had been holding your breath. “I didn’t know you were such a gentleman.”

“Hm,” he chuckled, then winked, “not all the time."

You werent entirely sure he meant it as an innuendo, but regardless, his words sent a delicious shiver up your spine.

He then stepped across the hall to a set of french doors next to the foyer and across from the living room. The glass panes were protected from the inside with soft, white door curtains, so you didn’t know what was behind them, until Jungkook opened one, and you caught a glimpse inside.

A king-sized bed. A bedroom. His bedroom.

“This your room?” you pointed into the space beyond him. You were a bit surprised. You had figured his room was on the top level overlooking the sunrise, not right next to the common areas and overlooking the driveway.

“Yup,” he nodded proudly, once again holding the door for you to follow him in. The gesture was simple, but it felt far from simple. This was his room, in his home - and you hadn't realized what a symbol it was until you were invited into it. This was where you were going to let another man touch you; where you were going to put the nail into the coffins of Chris and Stephanie; and, where you were going to be starting anew. Being invited into his bedroom somehow made everything feel so… real. Yet, somehow, you felt… okay.

You followed Jungkook, your body buzzing as you brushed passed his hulking form, as you stepped into yet another impressive space in his house. Much like the living room, the windows were floor to ceiling, and the room was soft and romantic against the orange wood. You looked out over the yard, indeed noticing the driveway, the front lawn, and the party barn near the tree line. Back at home, a front facing bedroom with floor to ceiling windows would be a nightmare. Hell, a back facing bedroom was nightmare enough. If you forgot for even a second that you hadn’t closed your curtains, you were sure to put on a show for at least five households. But out here, in the quiet, with no passers by, you supposed the rules were different. You could easily make love under the silver shine of the moon and stars, without the risk of being seen by a neighbour walking their dog. What an intriguingly pleasant idea.

Looking further beyond the tree line, you understood why this room was built as such. The scenery was remarkable, and promised views of red sunsets and pink skies. In the distance, you could make out a valley following a curvy stream of water, which was lined with what appeared to be orchards and possibly vineyards.

You turned back to Jungkook. He had taken a seat on the corner of his bed, stretching his arms behind him as he leaned back to balance himself over his palms. His long, lean torso and welcoming lap were now on display - and with the twitch of your awakening pelvic muscles, you remembered again why you were here.

The room then became silent, as you stood there, holding your purse like a cross – you avoiding his gaze – and both of you wondering how to move forward. This was the awkwardness that you feared. What was the formality here? Should you talk some more first, or just bite the bullet and get down and dirty? You were the one who propositioned him, did that mean you should be the one to make the first move? Or was it better if the “favour-giver” was the one to first offer themselves? Why was Jungkook doing this for you at all?

You considered crossing the floor, and seductively crawling onto his lap to mount his hips, but the more you thought about it, the more you talked yourself out of it. Instead, you decided to fill the space between you with mindless banter.

“I can’t believe you own this place,” you admired, once again looking out the window. “It must’ve cost you a fortune.” You immediately regretted speaking. You barely knew Jungkook, and even though you were about to have sex with him, it still felt inappropriate to be commenting on his finances. You spun around quickly, looking as apologetic as you could. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume anything.”

“Nah,” Jungkook shrugged and smiled, like you were being ridiculous for apologizing. “I am lucky. This was my grandparent’s getaway cabin. I inherited it. I wouldn’t be able to afford it otherwise.”

“Nice,” you awed in some pathetic version of a 90s surf dudebro. Once again, you regretted it, and - once again - looked at him with wide, embarrassed eyes. “I mean… not nice that they died. I'm sorry for your loss."

Get it together, you idiot, you chastised yourself.

But Jungkook wasn’t in the least bit phased. He didn’t look offended, in fact, he even laughed through the bemused smile he had already been giving you.

“It is sweet… I don’t have a mortgage, and I’m completely off-grid." Now he was just boasting. “So… yeah… I don’t have any major bills to manage. That’s why I can get by making pennies and doing whatever the fuck I want for a career.”

"I thought your businesses were doing really well?” you furrowed your brows, as you leaned against a heavy wooden dresser. You didn’t know how much a painter and photographer made these days, but as far as you knew, he was in demand on the graphic design front. “Stephanie is always talking like you're some sorta secret billionaire," you laughed.

It was then that his face dropped, and you realized your grace period of stupid, none-of-your-business banter was over. You felt instantly guilty, and perhaps terrified that you had destroyed your refuge.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately sputtered out. “I didn’t mean to pry. I’m just nervous and trying to make stupid small talk… Just tell me to shut up when I’m being too much.”

“No, no, no” he shook his head regretfully, as he pushed himself to sit upright. “Don't apologize. It’s not you. It’s…” he paused as he thought about his answer, then grimaced just before he continued, "Stephanie says a lot of things. I just worry about you having the wrong impression of me because of her."

You felt relieved. He wasn’t upset at you - at least he said as much. He just didn’t like the mention of Stephanie.

It was strange. She had always venerated him, and talked about him and her as if they were thicker than thieves. And yet, in under a five minute phone conversation, he had agreed to break her heart. And now you were here, and it was clear he had a visceral reaction to just the mention of her name. You put a pin in that thought to be inquired about later.

“Still… feel free to tell me to shut up when I need to… Nicely, of course.”

He chuckled softly, “Yeah, okay."

Silence befell you both once more, only this time, you decided to avoid useless conversation and your potential fourth strike – and instead, cut right to the chase.

“I don’t know how to do this. I’m sorry, I’ve only been with Chris for the last... ever… I don’t… I don’t know what to do next.”

He looked at you thoughtfully for a moment, but didn’t answer. Your gaze followed his face as he stood up from the bed, and as he began to stroll across the floor towards you. Your skin instantly felt on alert, buzzing more fervently with each inch closed. You didn’t consciously decide too, but at some point you were off the dresser and standing to attention. When he reached you, he wrapped a large hand gently around your hip, pulling himself close enough to tease you with the faint brush of his hips against yours. He took your purse from your hands, setting it aside. Your palms reached up to rest over his chest, and his other hand smoothed itself along the length of your arm in a touch that felt too intimate to have been had with a near stranger. But it felt so good…

You looked up at him, not able to meet his eyes for long since they wanted to fixate on his beautiful mouth, and the freckle that adorned his lower lip.

When he spoke, his voice was calm, soothing, but also low, with a hint of a gravel, " I was thinking maybe you and I should just dive right in and break this ice first?” His hand caressing your arm now dropped and slid around your waist.”

Fuck, yes, your mind screamed, as your lips curled and eyes narrowed into a gracious and seductive display of agreement.

“I think you’re right,” you said, with all the uninhibited confidence you possessed - until it diminished. “I mean… if you really want to.”

“I do,” he nodded, his hand once more brushing up your arm and towards your neck, while his grip on your hip tightened.

“Seriously,” you continued, as your desire began to collide with your apprehension. “Because I know you said you would, but you’re allowed to change your mind.”

“I haven’t,” he assured you, pulling your bodies tighter together as his fingers snaked their way into your hairline and his thumb cradled your jaw. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No, not at all!” you nearly shrieked. You definitely hadn’t changed your mind - especially now that you could feel the stiffness behind his pants pressing into your belly. “I just, want you to know that you don’t–”

“Y/N,” Jungkook interrupted you with a stern, yet flirty whisper of your name. “I'm going to kiss you. So, unless you have some sort of objection, I’m telling you nicely to shut up.”

You accepted his light scolding with a sheepish smile and nod. “Okay. I’m mean, no, I have no objections.”

“Good,” he returned a faint smile of his own, his lips widening and curving gently - until he dipped his face forward, and tilted your head high so those lips of his could gently curve against yours.

The kiss was soft… not in the way that it was unsure and timid - it was tender in a way that was meant to be reassuring and soothing.

You liked it, but you weren't quite sure what to make of your liking it. You had made a promise to never kiss another man other than Chris, and now you were kissing Jungkook - and you felt nothing but good about it.

Jungkook broke the kiss, angled his head to the other side, then brought your mouths together once again. The kiss was still gentle, but firmer than before. You felt yourself melting into him. Knowing he had begun to caress your caution away, he dropped his hand at your face and brought it down to the small of your back. You slid your arms over his shoulders, then braided them behind his neck – you now the one encouraging further contact.

You felt your ass press against the dresser behind you, as Jungkook had managed to walk you against it, and wave his bulge tight against your groin. Your lips parted in a small, silent gasp – and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

The flavour of him was foreign – shocking at first, since you were so use to the taste of Chris – but it was also delicious, hot, and exciting. His tongue moved against yours with languid precision, and for some reason, it ignited something delicious, hot, and exciting deep in your gut.

Your kiss soon became more, then more. His hands began to roam the expanse of your body – his fingers leaving a wake of goosebumps over the skin just above your jeans and just barely under the hem of your shirt.

It was happening…

He was getting ready to fuck you, and damn, were you ever ready to be fucked by him. His hands crept higher under your shirt, smoothing around the curves of your waist to the hollows of your back as he pulled you in closer. You wanted more, and you wanted it faster. You wanted more of your skin exposed, more of your flesh kneaded in his hands, more of his body pressed against yours… more of his hot, wet mouth kissing you.

In a quick decisive moment, you chose to initiate the “more.” You had propositioned Jungkook, and he had made first contact – now it was back to you to take you both to the next level.

You untangled your arms from behind his shoulders, and dragged your palms firmly over his chest – now elated at the idea of seeing everything you felt beneath his t-shirt. You raked your nails over his abdomen, until they caught the hem. You then pulled the cotton gently north, and Jungkook got the memo. He released his hold on you, reached behind his head to grab his collar, helping you strip him of the garment in one, smooth motion. His hands were immediately back on your waist, and he pressed his forehead to yours as he moved to start kissing you again – but your gaze was trained elsewhere.

You splayed your palm across the solid planes of his chest, sweeping appreciatively over them as you admire just how fucking beautiful his body was. You should have known… rock climbing and hiking among other outdoor activities were hobbies he was known for.

“My God,” you whispered outloud, unaware you had said anything at all.

He chuckled a soft smile, “You see something you like?”

“Ha!” you grinned, completely not embarrassed by how you were so obviously drooling over him. He was gorgeous, and it was a crime to not let him know that. You looked up at him, showing him every ounce of desire you felt that your eyes could convey. “I always liked what I saw.”

“Yeah?” he tilted his head, his ego lacing with a touch of disbelief.

“Of course,” you said more seductively than you intended to – but it worked as you leaned forward, pressing your lips over a muscular plank, your tongue taking a few liberties with his dark, peaked nipple.

“Good to know,” he took the compliment, and you were delighted to hear a bit more arousal in his tone. His hands dropped to the hem of your tank top. You raised your arms above your head as he peeled your shirt off your body, and discarded it to some unknown corner on the floor. He wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you cautiously as if you might try to escape, while the index finger of his free hand began to trace a line over the hills and valleys of your now expose torso. There was so much praise and worship and need in the way his eyes drank you in. You hated that it made you think about Chris , but you couldn’t help but wonder when was the last time you felt so damn desired.

Jungkook hummed some throaty growl of appreciation, as his fingers began to dance with the lace lining your bra. Your nipples tingled and puckered at the prospect of being worshipped as well.

His three fingers then dropped into the front of your cup, and he pulled downward and released your breast from its confines. In a short instant, Jungkook dropped his head, and you stretched your neck as you felt the heat of his mouth engulf the sensitive bud. He hummed as he sucked you into his mouth, and the vibration rippled through you, making you hum along with it.

He moved to your other breast, only instead of springing your wanton nipple free, he teased over its lace covering. He laved at the fabric with a long, firm swipe of his tongue, leaving your bra hot and dampened, and then cool and tantalizing as the drafty house air swept over it. He licked at it again, sucking the lace and your nipple gently between his teeth, and releasing them to snap back into place. You yelped a little - like you had been shocked by static.

Jungkook grinned triumphantly against the mound of your breast, then caressed the flesh with a kiss that more resembled a bite. His lips made their way up your chest, your neck, your jaw – each inch breached mimicking an inch his body pressed tighter against yours. You graciously reveled in the contact, scooping your arms under his shoulders, and digging your fingers into the solid, muscular columns that lined his back. You wanted to wrap your legs around him, and feel every twitch and stretch of his movements against you. You wanted his pants gone - and yours - to feel more of his erection rubbed over your core. You wanted his skin and his weight to smother you, and to feel your breasts flattened against that sculpted chest of his.

As Jungkook’s hands found their way into the back of your pants, and as he began to knead at the generous flesh of your backside, you reached behind yourself and unclasped your bra, feeling stimulated by their liberation. But they weren’t free for long – not if Jungkook had anything to do with it. His face, which had been focused on nibbling at your ear, pulled from your neck so he could peer down at your chest, and he deftly helped you pull the straps off your shoulders.

You found yourself in a familiar position, his one arm holding you near him, your hips swaying in tandem against each other, while his other hand now squeezed its way over your now completely naked torso. With his lower lip tucked tightly between his teeth, his dark, hooded eyes raked gluttonously over your various silhouettes – admiring every shadow and freckle.

You felt a blush stirring behind your cheeks as you watched him inspect you with such raw appreciation. “See something you like?” you volleyed Jungkook’s question back at him.

“I’ve always liked what I saw,” he retorted with a roughly spoken volley of his own.

God… you thought. If this was only the foreplay to the foreplay, you were in for a very erotic ride. Speaking of foreplay…

He released the tension he had on your body, and his hands dropped to the button of your pants. He didn’t rush to undo it, nor did he take his sweet-ass time. You felt the rumble of your zipper as it passed over your mound, and he caught your lips again just as his palming of your denim-clad junction made you gasp.

You took the opportunity to press your breasts against him, moaning into his mouth as you took pleasure in what you had been wanting for these past few minutes. His skin was warm and smooth against yours; his body felt strong and solid, like you were pulling yourself against a brick wall and not a man. You could feel the faint beat of his heart thumping behind his ribs, and you could sense how each of his muscles tensed and relaxed as he found pleasure and intrigue in your kiss.

He dug his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, and began pulling them south off over your hips. In that moment, you wished you hadn’t worn such skin tight pants. You wished they would just puddle to the floor so you wouldn’t have to let him go. He reluctantly broke your kiss, but made up for it as he trailed a path of licks and nips down the length of your body, peeling your pants off your limbs. He helped you step out of the legs, and your jeans too became lost somewhere in his room.

Kneeling before you, face-to-face with your panties guarding your dampened pussy, he began to gingerly rub the length of your thighs. That was when you noticed, and he noticed, that you were trembling.

“Are you okay?” he looked up at you without judgment.

“Yeah,” you replied. You were okay – you didn’t know why your body was reacting this way when your soul felt completely on board. “I want to. I think I’m just… overwhelmed… I don’t know. I never thought I’d be with anyone else. Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” his palms ran soothing circles over your skin. “We’re here on your terms. Just tell me what you want.”

“I want you to keep going,” you said assuredly, punctuating with a rapid nod. “It feels good. I feel good. I’m having a good time.”

He smiled, “Me too.”

Then, something shifted behind his gaze. With a blink, it had gone from empathetic and concerned, to heated and filthy. He kept his eyes locked on yours, and you felt like they had a mystic power to prevent you from looking anywhere else but at him. You felt his fingers squeeze tighter into your flesh as he pulled his face toward your pussy. You held your breath, like you were watching the scene below you in slow-motion. You shifted your weight as you braced yourself for contact. His lips parted, and you saw his tongue relax and drop, just before he latched his mouth wide, and firm over the cotton guarding your clit.

“Oh!” a noise trembled off your tongue, as heat engulfed your centre, and as you felt his wet muscle wave strongly into the bud. He detached himself, tilted his head, and repeated the action, wetting your panties with his saliva to compliment the way his prior ministrations had already dampened them. He detached again, tilted again, and licked you again from a new angle – several times over. It was a stunning sensation of moving between the heat of his mouth when he covered you, to feeling the wet coolness when he exposed you. Perhaps Chris had once been like this – back in your early days together, but you couldn’t recall. With Chris, sex was a clinical and familiar race to climax. Not that it wasn't good sex – it was great to have a partner who knew how to get you off. But you couldn’t remember ever being teased by him, or making time to make sex an erotic adventure. But with Jungkook, and the way he handled you – not worried about needing to get to work in an hour, or back to the household chores, or whatever your busy, domestic lives demanded of you – with Jungkook, it felt like you had all the time in the world.

Moments ago, you felt a rush to have more of him – but now, you felt beyond contented to just let him devote whatever he wanted to you.

You watched adoringly, your lip twisted between your teeth as you absorb the tiny but mounting bouts of pleasure. You braced yourself with one hand over the edge of the dresser, but then let the other drop and smooth over his hand clutching around your thigh. He appreciated your gesture, twisting his wrist so he too could tug gently on your forearm.

He then pulled his face tight and firm into your panties, and your breath hitched as you felt his teeth and lips nibbling around your labia. He pulled back, the fabric of your panties stretching as he pulled them roughly with his teeth. He released them with a snap, and your hips jolted, and you yelped as you felt the cotton-poly-blend slap back against you.

He grinned impishly again – and you began to realise that teasing and shocking his partners was apart of his sex repertoire. The notion thrilled you.

You expected him to resume eating you out – albeit you were hoping that he would strip you of your soiled panties first. But he didn’t. Instead, he began to rise from the floor, until he was once again looming over you, and caging you between himself and the dresser.

“How you feeling?” he asked, and your eyes nearly bugged out of your head.

How were you feeling? The space between your legs was practically a splash pad. He could have easily sunk his bare cock into you minutes ago without any remorse. So, how were you feeling: You were feeling nothing but respect and appreciation for his commitment to detail.

“I, uh,” you nearly laughed as you tried to answer him. “Yeah, I think I’m feeling pretty damn good.”

He laughed as he caught your meaning. You scraped your hands down his torso, then let your fingertips dance around the waistband of his pants. “Can I help make you feel good?” you asked suggestively.

“Mm,” he craned his neck as he thought about it. He definitely wanted you to, but something was holding him back.

“Maybe later. I promised you a good time - I intend to make good on it.”

"Well,” you drawled as you grazed and teased the underside of his waistband, and felt his abs jolt in excitement. “You're off to a good start. But, I like to pull my weight." You then slipped your palm over his pants, and gave his bulge a light squeeze. He rewarded your action by choking slightly on the air. "Lemme suck your dick, Jungkook."

He definitely liked that idea. It was written all over his face, and taut all over his body. He was perhaps a bit taken aback by your forwardness. But he didn't budge on his resolve.

"Trust me, I'd love nothing more than to come down your throat."

A thrilling tingle sparked through your groin as he said it. You liked that idea, so much so that you could practically taste him already. You also liked how the temperature between you was heating up and dirtying down. Perhaps your face didn't show your excitement, however, because Jungkook tilted his head in a slight grimace.

"Too much dirty talk?" he questioned.

“No,” you chuckled, respectfully abandoning his protected hard-on, and opting to slip your hands down the back of his pants to explore his impressive glutes. "Not dirty enough."

"Yeah?" He liked the sound of that too. His fingers then began to trace down your belly, lower, and lower, and lower - and your breathing became shorter and shorter. "What kinda words you like?"

His palm then dipped beneath your panties, and you felt a long set of fingers slip their way through your folds, and the heel of his hand press firm over your clit. Your jaw slackened, and your back arched to buck your hips into his hand. He looked pleased at how you reacted to his touch.

He drew his fingers north, slithering them through your folds, brushing the length of your labia, until they flattened and tugged hard on your clit. Your fingers instead curved, shaping into talons seeking purchase over any bit of his flesh they could find.

"What can I say to turn you on, Y/N?" he prompted you again. You weren't sure you were expected to answer - it was clear on his wolfish grin that he enjoyed how wordless he was making you.

"Um… I don't know... everything?" you panted an answered, although you weren’t sure if it was the right answer… you weren’t really sure of anything right now.

"Mm," he hummed as he thought, dipping his fingers low and pulling them north again. "Cock?"

"Of course," you laughed. But you supposed it was possible some people didn't care for the term.

His index finger slid south again, and teased itself around your entrance. Your kegels clenched as they prepared for him to invade you - but he didn’t. Not yet. He languidly split his way through your slick slip, and parted your folds to expose your clit to the elements. "Pussy?"

"Yes," you swallowed.

"Cunt?" he said as you bucked against him again. He began to swirl a finger in delicate circles around your clit, and you began to burn from the inside out.

"Sparingly," you conceded. He increased his pressure and speed, now assaulting the nub of nerves with a clear intent. This was no longer teasing, this was no longer a quest to make you wet and ready for him… this was the first click of the route to a proper orgasm. “Oh, shit!” you keened, biting your lip as you bowed your head against his chest. You panted a few audible whines as you got used to his ministrations. When you found balance, you lifted your chin to look up at him, only to find yourself off-balanced again. God, the way he looked at you was intoxicating. He was so focused on his task, and so concentrated on reading your every micro-reaction to his touch. He enjoyed it all - he was getting off on how you looked, how you sounded, and he was high on the idea that he was the one making you feel this way.

He licked his lips, and you immediately wanted to kiss them again. But you couldn’t. A microgasm caught hold of your system, and all you could do was ride it out until it relinquished its control. But then another dirty word slipped from his kissable lips…

"Slut?" he asked somewhat cautiously. Truth was, you hadn't ever had that term brought into your sex life vocabulary - but the way it rolled off his fucking tongue, you knew you'd love to hear him say it again.

"Yes," you near whined, as the word and his fingers heightened your pleasure. You clamped your one hand firm around the back of his neck, while the other gripped tightly around his flexing bicep. "Oh... my God," you breathed, letting him know how good he was making you feel.

You were discovering just how much of an artist Jungkook was. Those long, slender fingers of his weren't only adept at painting beautiful pictures, or strumming an electric guitar. They knew exactly how to mold a woman's centre into a motherboard of primal, unrestricted pleasure. He played with your clit, finding just the right places to push, and just the right angles to rub. Then he'd zero in - raise the tempo, deepen the pressure, until your body began to convulse with the onset of an orgasm. Then he'd release you from it all, and palm your pussy with long, calming strokes to bring you back down - until he was ready to attack your senses again, bringing you just a bit higher than the last time.

"Fuck, Jungkook..." you sobbed after the umpteenth rise and fall. "Fuck... I want more.”

You weren’t sure what more it was you wanted - but you just needed more. More of his lips, more of his fingers… more of him… “I want you to fuck me.”

“I am fucking you, Y/N,” he said with a menacing tease. That wasn’t what you meant, and he damn well knew it. So… he was the kind who liked a girl to beg.

“I want you inside me."

Once again, the corner of his mouth pulled in a look of delicious and devious satisfaction - there was something about it that you didn’t trust.

He dipped his hand deep into your panties and in a quick move, he returned his fingers to your entrance; and, in an even quicker moment, he stuffed two of his digits deep inside you - nearly lifting you off his floor with their swiftness and strength.

“Ugh!” you mewled, as the action made you feel heady with vertigo. His fingers flapped rapidly inside you, and every ounce of air you had in your lungs became caught in your throat, as your body began to vibrate in time with his flicks.

"Like this?" he asked arrogantly. "You want me inside you like this?"

It also wasn't what you exactly had in mind, but you certainly weren't complaining.

"Jungg–" your vocal chords restricted and your body heaved against him. He squeezed you closer to him with his free arm around your waist, and brought your faces so close together, you could kiss him deep and fervent if you had the ability to do so. He slipped his fingers down your chamber, then shoved them hard and fast back into you - tapping madly against the now discovered pleasure points inside you.

He let the tip of his nose trace softly over your nose, and his lips brush lightly over your lips as he teased you with a kiss. But a tease was all it was - you didn’t have the power to take it further - not when your body was seizing and sputtering without any control.

"Or you, want something bigger?" he asked, tilting his chin as he peered down his nose at you. “You want my dick?”

"Yes," you managed to sputter out.

“Yeah? You wanna take this cock like a good little slut?”

Holy fuck. Your mind and body reacted immediately, and he knew it all too well. Your pussy muscles immediately constricted around his fingers - clamping down on them so hard that he struggled to jostle them through your chamber.

“Oh, fuck, you like that, eh?” he derided, and you never felt so… corrupt.

“Yes,” you cried out your command. “I want your cock inside me, baby.”

“Hm, baby,” he tested the word out. “I like the sound of that.”

“Fuck me and I’ll call you whatever you want,” you said, surprising both yourself and him with how controlled and demanding your tone was.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jungkook smiled as he withdrew his fingers from you. You immediately jumped into action, stripping yourself of your panties and kicking them aside while Jungkook worked away at his own pants. You were done before he had managed to even undo his belt buckle. You swatted his hands away from the metal, and deftly worked to unfasten it, his button, and his zipper in under four seconds.

You half expected him to laugh and tease you about your urgency, but instead he too was overcome with the need to take you right there. He crushed his lips to yours, roughly pulled your bodies together, and violently kicked his pants off his ankles. Within milliseconds, he had you hoisted onto the dresser, his body nestled between your thighs. At the same time, you both reached down between your bodies, to take a hold of his throbbing, dripping cock.

“Oh, shit,” Jungkook suddenly exclaimed - although not in the sexy way, but in the we-have-a-problem kind of way.

“What?” you looked at him, your voice sounding more annoyed than alarmed. What the fuck could possibly be the problem?

“We didn’t talk about protection and shit.”

“Oh,” you shook your head, now feeling silly and a touch irresponsible. “Yeah, um, okay. What are you comfortable with? I’m on birth control and I got a rapid STD test after I found out about… them.”

“So…” he looked at you cautiously. “You… wanna… bare back it?”

Yes, was your reckless reaction. Frankly, you had a deep and twisted desire to let Jungkook inside you without any barriers. You hadn’t allowed Chris that privilege until you were at least six months into your relationship. It was a sign of intimacy, of trust, and of devotion - things he threw away with no regard. So, the idea of letting Jungkook shift your kidneys with his raw, unguarded cock felt like a stab to Chris… even if you were the only one who knew about it. Regardless, you still had a sensible side, and your sensible side had one more question. “Are you clean?”

“Mm hm,” he nodded. “Saw the Doc last month. Clean bill of health. But I got condoms in my drawer,” he pointed his thumb over his shoulder, and you followed where it led, noticing the bedside table which was maybe five strides across the room.

“It’s too far,” you grinned.

“You’re right,” his nose scrunched as he grinned back.

Although the interruption was minor, it was still enough to slow what had become a chaotic rush to bring yourselves together. Slowed… but not cooled.

Your lips met again, your tongues began to tangle once more - but this time, you were sure to savour it. To savour him… his taste, his tact, the small sounds that rumbled in the back of his throat, and echoing noises of your moving lips and hands.

You broke the kiss when you felt the tip of his cock pushing against your folds. You looked down, wanting to see his dick hard and erect before it disappeared inside you. Jungkook looked down too, and together you admired the scene. He held his member stiff in his hands as he guided the shaft along the length of your pussy, soaking it in your juices. He brought his tip to your clit, circling the bud several times, then tapping it a few times more - making you squirm and jolt with need and longing.

Then finally - fucking finally - he dragged the thick, pulsing head downward, and pressed it over the folds guarding your entrance. You shuffled over the dresser, spreading your legs a bit wider to allow him complete, unrestricted access. You reached downward, covering his cock holding hand with yours, and together you positioned him right where he needed to be - then he began his ascent.

You felt his tip breach past your folds, and watched as the first inch disappeared inside you. Your mouth fell open, as did his - and together you exhaled as he conquered another inch, and then another. The eroticism of it all caused your walls to quiver around him; quivering around him made your pussy tingle with pleasure; and pleasure forced your chamber to clamp down around his cock, unsure if it wanted to suck him into you or push him back out.

“Fuuuuck, Y/N,” Jungkook exhaled a groan. “Fuck, you feel good.”

Your pussy fluttered again, and his cock slipped further into you, meeting resistance, but persevering as he slid his way through you, until finally he was balls deep and bottomed out.

He pressed his forehead against your temple, kissing that sweet spot below your ear. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips on your skin, and how it complimented the delicious burn of your insides adjusting to his size. He reveled in the feeling of your silky walls around him, and snaked his hands around your hips to shuffle you and him into perfect alignment.

You began to burn with the need for him to move. You slid your one hand up his neck, then into his hair, pulling his face to yours so you could kiss him once more. You tightened your limbs around his waist, encouraging him in that way as well - but it was your words that inspired him the most.

“Fuck me, Jungkook,” you said as you tugged his head backwards, ensuring he could see how serious you were. His eyes flared with salacious desire, both loving the control and demand you had over him, but also challenged by it.

He drew his hips backwards in one long, slick drag of his cock, then pressed them forward - again, long, slick and filling. He did it again, testing his angles and adjusting himself accordingly, then again, and again… until he found a steady rhythm.

He pumped himself into you, and - God damn - did he ever feel fantastic. The way he moved through you, making you moan as he stuffed you full, and whine as he left you feeling empty. He rocked his hips in smooth, consistent waves - and you keened each time his mound pressed against your sensitive clit.

You dropped both your hands behind you, pressing them into the surface of the dresser and leaning back to let him fuck you deeper and harder. He did, and soon enough the squelch of his cock slipping in and out of you, and the claps of your hips colliding could be heard throughout the house.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you threw your head back, as a microburst of pleasure pulled your limbs tight with electric shock. “Oh, fuck.”

When you were able to look at him again, your heart began to beat with dangerous aggression. You couldn’t get over the way this man saw you, admired you. He bit his lip as he studied your face, and as his eyes drank in and appreciated every about your pleasure flushed body. He thrusted in and out of you, fixated on how your tits bounced, how the flesh of your thighs rippled with each impact, and how your belly restricted and relaxed between pumps. He seemed so damn controlled, like he was hours away from coming, whereas you were mere moments. But then, a deep, long, guttural groan rumbled up from within him, and you keened a high pitched noise at the way it turned you on.

“Ugh,” he exhaled again. “Ugh… uh…” each sound a touch deeper, signaling his rising climax.

“I’m–” you tried to warn him of the orgasm barreling towards you, but the moment you spoke, he grabbed you roughly under your ass - and before you knew it, you found yourself facing the wall, palms pressed into wood, and body bent over the dresser.

“Baby,” you keened as Jungkook re-entered you from behind. He somehow felt thicker, hotter, and longer as his cock once more filled your channel. He fucked into you once in a hard and fast pulse of his hips, and your hands skidded down the surface of the dresser. You then felt his fingers card their way through the hair on the back of your head and, with a light pull, he bent you backwards - making you stare yourself and him down in the mirror before you.

You wanted to call out to fucking God. The image before you was so hot and nasty. You could see clearly his sweat-dampened skin and how it pulled tight over his muscles, which contracted and flexed with each and every buck of his hips.

He began to fuck you mercilessly, and your calls to the heavens became primal roars for release. He was so thick and hot inside you. So rough and ruthless. He was no longer breaking the ice – he was breaking you apart.

Your eyes threatened to roll back in your skull, but you wanted so badly to see the images presented before you. You wished Chris could see this image. You wished Stephanie could see it too.

You didn’t know why… but that thought made you hornier than hell. You felt a fresh wave of arousal drip between your thighs and soak Jungkook’s dick. The thought of them watching you get fucked by this man. The way their faces would twist in jealousy and regret. The way Jungkook would threaten Chris with a possessive stare, and taunt Stephanie with the knowledge that you possessed him.

You reached between your legs, and began circling your clit with your fingers - wanting to capitalize on the feeling of Jungkook’s cock and the mess of your debasing thoughts. But he was having none of it…

He scooped an arm around your waist, and in another quick moment, you were off the dresser and weighted against his hard body. He grabbed a hold of your one tit in his palm, kneading and twisting your nipple with his fingers, while his other hand dipped down to replace your fingers which were pleasuring yourself. He wanted to be the one to make you come, all on his own.

You bent your neck backwards and over his shoulder, reaching behind his neck to cling again to the hair at his nape - needing something to tether you to the earth. He nibbled on your ear, bit into your shoulder, pinched your nipple, rubbed your clit, all while continuing to fuck you into oblivion.

You didn’t have a chance to warn him you were about to come - then again, it seemed as if he didn’t have a warning of his own. The moment his deep voice shot high in his throat and started to come out in short, pitched moans, was the moment you began to tumble off the edge.

“Ohhh!,” your orgasm squealed into the room, and your muscles pulled tight, bending your spine and curving your body into his. Your vision went dark, then burst with millions of technicoloured stars. Your hearing muffled, and you lost the ability to breathe. A pure, radiant tingle sparkled through your every vein, like your blood had been replaced with warm, bubbling champagne.

You felt Jungkook’s body begin to convulse against you, as his hand motions and waving hips became sloppy and erratic. He was coming too, and his hot, whining breaths on your shoulder ended in a heavy roar as he crescendoed, and long spurts of cum were released inside you.

You both fell forward - your hands finding the wood surface of the dresser again, and Jungkook finding your shaking and fragile body a sufficient place to rest his head.

You panted yourself out of the stars and back into reality, and Jungkook did the same. His hands were around the hollows of your hips, like he was holding you there, unwilling to let you move. You felt his lips then press warm over your spine, as he took a few moments to appreciate the taste of your post-coital skin.

“What’s this,” you heard his disheveled voice behind you, then you felt a heavy finger trace the small of your back - and you realized what he was referring to.

“That’s my tramp stamp,” you announced, laughing at the 16 year old that shamed you with the decision. “I don’t really like it.”

It was a fucking dolphin. Not a dolphin fucking, just a stupid dolphin you had zero attachment to. There were other reasons you didn’t like it - Stephanie was with you when you got your tattoo. She got one herself. They weren’t friendship tattoos or anything, but the memory of getting them together made it feel like it tethered her to you. You had big fish to fry these past few days, but now that you thought about it, it might be a good time to have it removed.

“It’s sexy. I love a good tramp stamp.”

“Thanks,” you said, as you moved to press yourself off the dresser. Jungkook pulled himself out of you, then guided you to turn around so he could hold you sweetly in his arms. “She was with me when I got it,” you gave him a comical shrug.

“Ah,” he nodded, understanding now. “I can cover it for you.”

“Right,” you mused, remembering that “Tattooist” was one of his alleged work-for-pennies jobs.

“I mean… maybe not right now. It's not a lot of fun fucking right after a back tattoo. The rubbing and all,” he winked. You chuckled.

“Okay, well… thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Jungkook stretched his arms a little further around you, pulling you tight against him. You wrapped your arms around him as well, and you pulled yourselves together for a sweet, but simple post-sex ceremonial kiss. When the kiss broke, he still held you there, smoothing his palm softly over the length of your back.

“So, what do you wanna do now?” he asked. “You hungry?”

“Um,” you looked around the room as you thought for a moment, unsure what you were supposed to do. With Chris, you’d either cuddle up in bed, or you’d run off to do something written in your day planner. But being up here, in Jungkook’s house, it was like you were trapped in a vacation. You didn’t have any commitments or responsibilities or expectations. You could just… be…

You looked up at him when you had an answer. “Do you think I could take a shower? I was in the car all night and all.”

“Sure,” he nodded. “You want company?”

You bit your lip to suppress your grin. You might like company… just not right now. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind a few moments to myself… if that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay. I’ll get you a towel.”

With that, he took you by the hand, and he walked you across his bedroom and towards a partially opened door. You hadn’t really noticed it before, but it was fair to assume it led to an ensuite bathroom. A luxury cabin like this had to have an ensuite bathroom.

You were close… the door led to a bathroom, but it first took you through a stupidly large walk-in closet.

“Oh my God,” you shrieked like a fanboy seeing his celebrity crush for the first time, and Jungkook snorted at your reaction.

“I didn’t know you had such a hard on for closet space,” he teased. "I'll fuck you in here if you'd like."

“Shut up, you don’t understand,” you slapped him gently with the back of your hand. He really didn’t understand. The closet was basically barren. He only used one measly section, and it was essentially nothing but t-shirts, sweat-shirts and jeans. He also didn’t understand because your house back home didn’t actually have any closets at all. It was a stupid oversight from the 20th century designer who built it, and it’s subsequent owners who did bare minimum reparations to it.

Jungkook gave your hand a tug, and you let him guide your drooling self through the closet and into the ensuite, where once again you gasped.

A tub.

A bathtub.

A real bathtub.

It was everything you looked for in a tub. It was long, and wide, and deep (like a great dick,) had jets, and no shower head was above it. You could easily soak in it and submerge your tits and knees under the water at the same time… and wasn’t that the dream?

It was also just incredibly romantic: flanked by riverstone tile, and installed next to a breezy window with soft views of a garden outside. You could instantly imagine yourself in it, surrounded by candles and bubbles, sipping a glass of wine as you enjoyed the warm breeze wafting into the space with the sounds of the forest. You could imagine Jungkook in there too - sitting at the other end of the tub, or perhaps you would be resting against his chest.

You shook the thought away. It was a nice fantasy, and if you were lucky, one you could explore… later. For now, you two had only fucked once, and this was a fucking arrangement. You didn’t need to start adding intimacy to the mix.

“You can use it if you want,” Jungkook shook you from your imagination. “I never do.”

“You don’t deserve this house, Jungkook,” you ridiculed him. “Unused walk-in closet, unused bathtub. Tsk.”

“Well,” he scooped you against him again, and you wrapped your arms around him... again. This act was beginning to feel as natural as it did with Chris. “Maybe you can show me how to live in it right.”

“Maybe,” you winked.

“Go ahead. Take a bath. Enjoy it.”

“No,” you sighed. “I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep in there and drown. I think I’m starting to feel the effects of my all-nighter.”

It was true. After your climax, you thought your muscles were feeling tired and drained from sex. But as the minutes passed since, you recognized that you were indeed just tired.

“Well, why don’t after you shower you take a nap? I’ll go make myself busy.”

“No, I don’t want…” you trailed off. It felt strange to kick Jungkook out of his own room when you had asked so much of him. “I don’t wanna sleep all afternoon and then be up all night.”

Jungkook’s gaze darken into something sadistic, and you were sure you could hear his thoughts. “I thought the plan was to be up all night, Y/N,” he said. Your nether regions agreed with him. “Do it. You’ll feel better.”

“Okay,” you nodded reluctantly. “Don’t let me sleep too long.”

“I won’t,” he promised with a final kiss before he let you go, then rummaged the cupboard for a towel.

You weren’t sure how long you had showered, but the water had felt so good over your skin and muscles that you just couldn’t pull yourself out of there. You were afraid you had nearly drained his tank. When you returned to his room, you discovered Jungkook’s windows had electric blinds, and that Jungkook had darkened the room for you. You also found an oversized t-shirt sprawled across his bed. It was a shirt from his band’s tour three years ago, and it was obvious he had laid it out for you to wear as pajamas. You took it in your hands, and brought it to your face, taking in a deep sniff of its scent. It smelt like him, like the soap you had just used in his shower. You were a touched pleased it didn’t smell like some other girl - although you wouldn’t be surprised if this shirt hadn’t already been worn by a groupie or two.

You pulled it on, then crawled under the sheets, groaning and stretching as your body recognized it was time to power down. You curled your body around a pillow, and within moments, you were fast asleep.

Go to Chapter 4.

[ijustreallylikepirates]

alright y'all, you know what time it is... time for another Alenick fanfiction!!! This is the one where they go to Türkiye so yeah enjoy this one!!!

Disclaimer: swearing, mention of drugs

(1) means "my mom" in Turkish

(2) means "my dad" in Turkish

I wake up to the sound of my alarm clock beeping loudly. I groan and roll onto my back, then pull my pillow over my ears. I release one of my hands from the pillow and slap snooze on the clock before letting go of the pillow completely.

I let out a sigh of relief and close my eyes again.

If the alarm clock didn't wake me up, then Nick sure did. He kicks my bedroom door open, then flips on the light and screams, "It's turkey day!"

I scream "Fuck!" and slap my hands over my eyes.

He laughs. "Sorry." He flips the light back off, walks over to my bedside table, and clicks my lamp on.

I slowly remove my hands from my eyes and stare at him. He crouches down next to my face and says, "You really aren't a morning person, are you?"

I just shake my head. He smiles.

I wish I could see that fucking smile right now. He's just an attractive blur at the moment.

I reach over and grab my glasses off the nightstand and put them on.

I look over at him.

He smirks and says, "You should be excited to wake up though. You know why?" He waits a second, then says after I don't respond, "It's turkey day."

I squint my eyes at him. "But it's not even November?"

Nick raises an eyebrow at me. "What?"

I continue to stare at him. "Oh. You mean the country."

"No shit, Sherlock." He kisses me on the forehead. "Come on. Get up. We got to go to the airport."

He stands up and yanks my blanket off my legs. He crawls onto my chest and mutters into my white tank top, "Come on. Don't you want to go see your home country?"

I press my face against the top of his head and whisper into his rose-scented hair, "Of course I do." I slip my fingers under his bathrobe, then his white tank top, and rub his back gently. "But can we just lay here like this? Just for a little bit?"

He sighs and nuzzles his head into my chest. "Sure, sexyback. Whatever you want."

I roll my eyes. "You haven't called me that in a while. I kind of miss it."

"I just forgot I called you that at all." He kisses my chest. "I've been calling you other names like 'love' and 'baby.' They suit you much better to be honest."

I chuckle. "I do miss you calling me 'sexyback' though. It's like a souvenir from the start of our relationship."

"I can call you it more often if you want."

"Yes please."

"Alright then." He puts his hands against my chest and hoists himself up, pinning me against the bed. "And to think you hated that name."

I blush and smirk up at him. "Well..." I fumble for words. "You're just so charming. It's hard not to love your annoying pet names for me after a while of you calling me them."

He blushes. "You think I'm charming?"

I smile and place my hand on his hip. "You've always been. Since the first day I saw you at Camp Tipiskaw. I just never really admitted it."

He puts his hand on my face and says, "You're so gay for me."

"Bisexual actually."

"Does that matter? The side of you that loves men loves me so therefore, you are gay for me."

"Whatever. You're gay for me too."

He smirks and leans closer to my face. "Bisexual actually."

I roll my eyes and bring my other hand up to his neck, then pull him in and kiss him.

He quickly kisses me back and runs his fingers through my hair.

But this kiss is quickly over.

Nick pulls away and smiles down at me, blushing. "Come on. Get up and get dressed. We don't have time to make out right now."

He pushes himself off me and gets off the bed. He leaves the room, stretching his arms out and yawning, his slippers making a rhythmic thumping against the hardwood floor. I just laugh and sit up.

I push my glasses up on my nose, then pull my blankets off and get out of my bed. I walk over to my bureau and open the second drawer from the bottom.

I sift through my clothes and find a blue polo shirt and some white dress pants. I change into the clothes and find my sienna leather belt in the top drawer.

I pull the belt through the belt loops on my pants and buckle it. I slip my new watch around my wrist and take my hair out of the ponytail I had it in while sleeping. I gently brush my hair before tying it back up. I slip a pair of black dress shoes onto my feet.

I look at myself in my mirror before opening my bedroom door, slinging my carry-on onto my shoulder, and rolling my suitcase over to the front door. Nick’s was already by the door, and he was leaning against the door in a white polo shirt and a pair of jeans, his carry-on lying next to his suitcase.

“Ready to go?” he asks, smiling as he sees me.

I smile back and nod. “Yep.”

He pulls his keys out of his pocket and swings them around on his index finger. “Alright, let’s go.”

He slips his backpack around his shoulders, then opens the front door. “Come on.”

He rolls his suitcase out the door, then starts walking over to his blue car. I adjust my tote bag on my shoulder, then rolled my suitcase out the door after him and shut the door, locking it behind me.

Nick opens the trunk of his car and stuffs his suitcase inside, then grabs mine as I roll it over to him and stuffs it in next to his. Then he shuts the trunk and opens the back door, shoving his backpack onto the backseat.

He looks at me and gestures to my tote bag. "Do you want to put that in the backseat too?"

I just laugh sweetly and say, "No, I'll just hold it in my lap."

He smiles and says, "Alright. Get in the car, sexyback."

I roll my eyes but hop in the passenger seat anyway. Nick gets in the driver's seat and as soon as he starts the car and we're both buckled up, he starts driving to the airport.

~

As we're driving down the dark highway, I anxiously check my watch. 5:00 AM. My foot is bouncing up and down quickly, and I keep picking up my phone.

Nick's eyebrows furrow. "What's wrong, Alec?"

I sigh. "I'm just nervous."

"About the flight?"

"No."

A beat.

"Then what?"

"About... my family."

The day after my birthday, I had told Nick that my family lives in Istanbul. He suggested we go stay with them while we are there. I called my Annem (1) and asked if we could stay with them, which resulted in a very long phone conversation involving my Babam (2), and after it ended, I got phoned later by my older brother Ali, which was another long phone conversation. Word spreads fast in my family.

My Annem was very surprised that I would come to visit my "dear old family" on my own accord. For some reason, she still has a firm believe that I'm still that little rebel teenager I used to be. Can't believe I was ever like that.

Nick takes one hand off the wheel to steady my bouncing foot. "I'm sure they'll be fine."

"I'm just so worried." I sigh. "What if they don't end up liking you?"

"I'm sure they will." He rubbed my shoe and smiled. "If they don't end up liking me, we can find a hotel and continue our vacation alone. How does that sound?"

I exhale and smile. "Thank you. I just... really hope they do like you."

He laughs. "We'll just have to see when we get there."

I laugh and say, "Yeah."

~

Getting through the airport was no easy feat. Nick forgot to take his phone out of his pocket when we were going through security, so we got held back for that. My tote bag also had to get checked after going through the x-rays because I forgot to take my laptop charger out of the bag when they literally told me to keep it in there.

We also took us a bit to find our gate but once we boarded the plane, everything was easy.

~

I mostly read the whole flight but only stopped once Nick stationed his head on my shoulder and fell asleep. I just smiled and put my book away, then laid my head on his and fell asleep.

We both woke up quickly before we landed. I quickly checked my watch. It says 8:00, but I now need to remember that Istanbul time is 2 hours ahead of London time so it's actually 10:00.

Once we were off the flight, we picked up our bags at baggage claim and got a rental car. I give Nick my parent's address and we start driving to their house.

"So does your brother and his family live with your parents?" Nick asks.

"Well, no," I say. "Him, his wife, and his son are just staying with my parents while we're there. They have their own house; they just want to see us too."

"Oh." He stops at a red light. "What are they like?"

"My parents? Or my brother?"

"Everybody. Tell me about them."

I scratch my chin. "Well, my parents are very energetic and sometimes they say things that can come across as rude, but they usually mean well. My brother is probably going to be really skeptical of you at first, but he'll eventually warm up to you. He's nice once you get to know him. A big pain in my ass though. My sister-in-law is really sweet, it just feels like she really is my sister. And my nephew, Adlee. A little ball of happiness, he is. I've never seen that kid without a smile on his face." I laugh sweetly.

Nick smiles. "They all sound nice. I'm excited to meet them all."

I sigh and smile too. "I'll just be happy to see them all in person again."

Nick reaches over and pats my knee.

~

As Nick pulls into the driveway of my parents' house, I take a deep breath.

Nick stops the car and looks over at me. "You okay?"

I smile and look over at him. "Yeah. Let's go."

We hop out of the car, and I sling my tote bag around my shoulder. I open up the trunk and grab our suitcases as Nick grabs his backpack from the back seat. He shuts the door, I shut the trunk, and he locks the car. He comes around the back of the car and takes a hold of his suitcase.

He pats me on the shoulder and says, "You ready?"

I laugh. "Oh, I'm ready. The question is, are you?"

He scoffs. "Definitely not."

We laugh.

"Come on, let's go," I say, starting towards the front door. He follows closely behind.

I take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.

Almost immediately, the door swings open. Standing there, with a huge grin on his face, was my Babam. He springs forward and wraps me in a tight hug.

“Alec, my boy! I haven’t seen you in so long!”

I laugh awkwardly and pat his back. “Hi, Babam.”

He lets me go, then looks directly at Nick. “And you must be Nick! Nice to meet you!” He throws his hand out at Nick.

Nick smiles and shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you too, sir.”

My Babam pats Nick on the back, then says, “Come on inside! Make yourselves comfortable!” He walks into the house.

Me and Nick look at each other.

Nick widens his eyes and says, “You weren’t lying when you said energetic.”

I laugh. “I wasn’t lying about any of them. Come on.” I walk through the door, Nick following behind me.

Not even one second after Nick closes the door behind us, a little squeaky voice from down the hallway shouts, “Uncle Alec!”

I smile and crouch down as little Adlee comes running down the hallway towards me. I laugh as he runs into my arms and I scoop him up.

“Adlee, my boy! Oh, you’ve grown so big! Pretty soon, you’ll be as tall as your old uncle!”

Adlee laughs. “I’m only 5.”

I widen my eyes. "Oh wow! You're getting old." I smirk as my brother Ali walks down the hallway. I point at him. "Just like your dad."

Ali scoffs and walks up to me, taking Adlee into his arms. “Still the same pain in the butt as always. Figured you wouldn’t have changed much since you were a teenager.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, quit it, Ali. I have changed, you just fail to see it.”

He passes Adlee over to my sister-in-law, Halime, who waves to me before walking into another room. I wave back to her, smiling.

Ali takes a hair tie off his wrist and ties his long brown hair up into a bun. He pushes his glasses up on his nose and looks me up and down.

“Alec.”

I squint my eyes at him. “Ali.”

A long silence.

Then, Ali smiles and brings me in for a hug. “I missed you.”

I laugh, wrapping my arms around his back. “I missed you too, Ali.”

Ali unwraps himself from me and looks over at Nick. He holds his hand out and says, “You must be Nick. I’ve heard so much about you. It’s really nice to meet you.”

Nick takes Ali’s hand and shakes it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Ali pulls Nick closer to him by his hand and whispers something in his ear that I couldn’t quite make out. He lets go of Nick’s hand, then politely smiles and walks away.

Nick looks at me, his eyes wide.

I just smile. “I told you he’s a little intense.”

Nick just nods his head.

We take our suitcases and we roll them down the hallway and into the living room.

When we walk through the doorway, my parents’ fat old Dachshund lumbers towards us, his tongue sticking out of his mouth.

I crouch down and say, “Albert!”

Nick laughs. “Albert?”

I look over at him as I scratch the top of Albert’s head. “Isn’t it just the most perfect name?”

Nick crouches down next to me, then starts petting Albert’s back. “He’s so fat!”

I laugh. “Yeah, he’s a bit of a foodie.”

Albert rolls over onto his back very slowly, and me and Nick start scratching his tummy.

My Annem walks through the doorway that connects the living room and the kitchen, rubbing her hands with a towel. “I guess Albert likes you, Nick!”

I look up at my Annem and get up off the floor. I walk over to her and wrap her in a tight hug.

She laughs and hugs pats my back, then pushes my hair back and tenderly kisses my forehead.

“I’m making dinner right now. You boys can go make yourself comfortable in our other spare bedroom. We just opened up another room for you guys; we cleared out your Babam’s old office since he recently just got a new job and doesn’t work from home anymore.”

I smile and say, “He got a new job? Tell him I said congratulations!”

She gives me a smirk and says, “Why don’t you tell him yourself?”

“I would but I have no idea where he ran off to.”

She laughs. “Well, I’ll be sure to tell him.”

I laugh. “What are you making for dinner?”

He flings the kitchen towel over her shoulder and smiles. “I’m making spinach and chilli bean pide. Your favorite.”

I pump my fist, my eyes glittering. She shakes her head and kisses me on the cheek, then strides back into the kitchen.

When I look back at Nick, he is now currently lying on his back on the floor, Albert sitting next to his head and licking his face. Nick was giggling and petting Albert’s ears.

I just shake my head and get down on the floor next to Nick. Albert stops licking Nick and lumbers over to me. I pick him up and place him on my chest. I start scratching the top of his head.

“It seems like you have a new friend,” I say to Nick, as Albert takes his paw to hold down my hand so he could lick it.

Nick just laughs and rolls over on his side to face me. “What can I say? He likes me!” Nick scoots closer to me. “Let me contribute to the kissing booth over here.” He starts showering me with kisses all over my face.

I just laugh.

After a while, Albert stops licking my hand and tumbles off my chest, then lumbers away into the kitchen with my Annem. Nick stops kissing me, then takes my chin in his hand and turns my face towards him. He leans in and we share one long kiss.

He pulls back and smiles at me. I smile back, blushing, and push my glasses up on my nose.

Nick sits up and says, “We should probably go bring our stuff into that bedroom.”

I nod and sit up too. Nick gets to his feet, then holds his hand out. I grip his hand tightly and he hauls me up.

Together, we roll our suitcases down the hallway and into the spare bedroom. We set them down next to a wooden dresser. I slide my tote bag off my shoulder and place it on top of my suitcase. Nick places his backpack next to his suitcase.

Nick stretches his arms behind his head and sits down on the bed. “Whose side is whose?”

I pull my dress shoes off my feet and lay them next to my suitcase. I flop onto the bed and say, “I want the right side.”

He just laughs and takes his shoes off as well, laying them next to mine. He lays down on the bed next to me and looks at me.

We just laugh.

I sit up on the edge of the bed. Nick sits up and scoots across the bed to sit next to me, and lays his head on my shoulder.

“Are you happy?” he says.

I wrap my arm around his waist. “Hmm?”

“Are you happy?” he asks again.

I just smile and kiss the top of his head. “Of course I’m happy. Why do you ask?”

He smiles. “I just wanted to know.” He lets out a sigh. “Your family is so nice. I’m so glad they let us stay here. I was really excited to meet them.”

I laugh. “They were really excited to meet you too.” I smirk at him. “Next up, it’s time I meet your family.”

He just scoffs. “Good luck with that one. My parents are a little overprotective and they might not like you.”

“I said the same thing about Ali. He seems to be warming up to you already.”

“How do you know that?”

“Uh… because I’m his brother and I grew up with him?”

Nick laughs. “Just kidding around.”

Suddenly, the bedroom door swings open. Me and Nick swing our heads around to see my Babam standing in the doorway.

My Babam looks at us for a second, then smiles, pushes his glasses up on his nose, and says, “Alec, Nick, dinner’s ready. Come on!”

He practically ballet danced back down the hallway. Me and Nick stare at each other.

“Does that guy ever run out of energy?” Nick asks, standing up off the bed.

I laugh. “Nope. For someone who’s a grandfather, he seems to think he has great knees for the amount of energy he keeps stored in his body.”

Nick just laughs. “I’m going to tell your dad you said that.”

I get up off the bed. “Don’t you dare.”

Nick takes my hand in his. “Just kidding around again.” Together, hand in hand, we walk out to the kitchen.

Adlee was standing on one of the kitchen chairs, talking really quickly about his favorite kind of train to Ali, who was nodding along as he set plates on the table.

I sneakily walked up behind Adlee and wrapped my arms around him, scooping him up and roaring like a dinosaur.

Adlee screams, then giggles and kicks his feet around in the air.

I laugh and put him back on the chair. He sits down with a thud and looks up at me. “Uncle Alec, are you a ninja? Or are you a dinosaur.” He gasps, then smiles a toothy smile. “Are you a ninja-dinosaur?”

I smile and laugh. “Yep. A ninja-dinosaur in disguise!”

Adlee laughs and claps his hands together, his face lit up with excitement.

Ali shakes his head and says, “I didn’t know I had a ninja-dinosaur for a brother.”

I flip my hair at him, then say, “I do. And I’m going to eat you while you’re sleeping tonight.”

He rolls his eyes, then starts placing wine glasses for each of us on the table, then a regular glass for Adlee.

My Annem brings two plates of food over to the table, and I rush over and grab one from her. “Here, let me help you with those, Annem.”

She laughs and says, “We raised him right.”

Ali scoffs. “Just barely.”

I ignore him, and place the plate in the middle of the table. I go over to the kitchen counter and help haul more plates of food over to the table.

My Babam grabs a bottle of red wine from the fridge and says, “You drink wine, right, Nick?”

Nick smiles and says, “Of course I do! Thank you!”

My Babam smiles and pats my shoulder, then whispers to me, “He’s a keeper.”

I just blush and nod.

My Babam starts pouring wine into everyone's glasses, then pours some water from a pitcher into Adlee's glass.

My Annem places the last plate of food onto the table as Halime places silverware next to the plates and Nick helps put napkins at each plate.

My Annem smiles and looks around at the family. "Alright everyone! Wash your hands before you eat!"

My Babam pushes his glasses up on his nose, then leans in and whispers to me, "Your Annem thinks we're all children, not just Adlee."

I give him a small chuckle, then move over to the sink with Nick. We quickly wash our hands together by the sink. He sneakily bumps his hip against mine, and I bump him back. We smile stupidly at each other, then dry our hands.

Adlee jumped off his chair and runs over to the sink. He tugs on my pant leg, then says, "Uncle Alec, help me up!"

I laugh and bend down, then hoist him up into my arms and hold him over the sink. Nick turns the faucet on for him and he quickly washes his hands. Before I put him back down on the floor, I blow a raspberry on his cheek. He laughs and I set him down on the floor.

He runs over to Ali, and Ali scoops him up into his arms. Ali places Adlee back on his chair, then walks over to the sink next to me and Nick.

Ali starts washing his hands, then looks at me, raises an eyebrow and says, "You're really good with kids. Why couldn't you handle your own?"

I look down at my feet, and Nick grabs my hand. "Just because I'm good with kids doesn't mean I was ready for the responsibility of having my own."

Ali looks back at the sink, then dries his hands off and pats my shoulder. "Sorry."

Before I could ask why he's apologized, he walked off and placed a kiss on Halime's cheek. As Halime walked over to the sink, me and Nick went and took our seats at the table, our hands interlocked.

Nick takes my hand in both of his and caresses my palm with his thumbs. I never really noticed how big my hands are compared to his.

He places a gentle kiss against my palm, then whispers to me, "I want you to know that if we ever get to that point in our relationship where it's good to have kids and you're still not ready, I'm totally okay with that. We don't ever have to have kids if that's what you want."

I blush. Then a smile tugs at the corners of my lips. "Why are you thinking about having kids with me already?"

His face quickly turns red and he stutters a little. "I...I..." He sighs. "On a serious note though."

My smile immediately fades. I look down at my lap, then back up at him. "Maybe one day. When I'm ready." I smile sweetly.

He smiles back, then places another kiss on the back of my hand.

He let go of my hand as everyone started filing into their seats.

My Annem smiles and gestures her hands out to the food on the table. "Alright everyone! Dig in! There's plenty for everyone!"

Everyone started filling their plates with the Turkish wonders, Ali helping Adlee with his plate.

Nick takes some food onto his plate, then looks at it suspiciously.

I stare at him and raise my eyebrow, chewing my pide furiously. I stop munching and say, "You can eat, you know. My Annem isn't going to poison you."

Nick picks the food up off his plate and smiles at me. "I know, I know. I've just never had this before so I'm just wondering what it's going to taste like." He lowers to food up to his lips, then takes a big bite. He chews slowly, my whole family staring at him.

Then he freezes. A beat. Then his eyes close and he leans back in his chair. He looks straight at my Annem and says, "Mm, this is so good!" He takes another huge bite, and I elbow his arm before continuing to eat my food.

~

The rest of the dinner drags in a quiet conversation. Me and Nick just held hands under the table and listened intently as we ate.

Now, me and my family are sitting on the living room couch, watching the TV. Nobody is really paying attention to it though. The conversation is young in the room.

“So Nick,” my Babam said, holding his hand out to Nick. “How is our Alec? How are you liking him?”

I blush and Nick says, “Well, he’s actually wonderful. He’s fun to spend time with. He always knows how to cheer me up."

Ali elbows me in my arm. "Since when?"

I brush him away, then said, "We're not having this conversation again!"

Nick raises an eyebrow, then looks at Ali and said, "I know he was an absolute dick on Disventure Camp and was a really sucky father, but he has changed."

"Oh, I'm not referring to that," Ali said, smirking in my direction.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

Then it hit me.

Oh no. He's referring to when I was a teenager.

I shot Nick an anxious glance but he didn't notice. "What are you referring to then?"

I lean forward and put my head in my hands as Ali started talking. "Do you know that he's a really good singer?"

Nick nods. "Oh, yes. I've heard him sing; he's got great vocals."

I pick my head up and look at him. "Can't say the same for you though."

He rolls his eyes and Ali continues. "So, when Alec went into high school, he entered a talent show at the beginning of the year and he sang a song for the judges. Basically, these three guys in the audience were looking to form a band and only needed a lead singer to make it happen, so they recruited Alec after the show, and he accepted."

Nick's jaw drops and he looks at me. "Alec, you were in a band!?"

I just roll my eyes and rest my head on my hand. "Just let him finish please."

Ali smirks and continues. "So, Alec was in this band for all of high school. He was lead singer obviously, this Russian guy Rooney was the bassist, this Colombian guy named Juan was the guitarist, and this Italian guy named Luke was the drummer. They were called The Broken Records; they made two albums and an EP. They broke up after high school ended because they all went to different colleges and couldn't find a way to make music together long distance."

Nick looked at me with a glimmer in his eyes. "What was it like to be in a band?"

I fiddled with my fingers and said, "It was quite stressful, but it was fun too. I made so many great memories while I was in that band. I still talk to everybody and we're all still great friends like we were in high school."

"You got so stressed your started smoking weed!" Ali said, laughing.

I elbowed him. "Yeah, whatever. Thank God, you ratted me out to Annem and Babam before I could get addicted.

"We still sent you to rebab."

"Whatever, let's just stop talking about this."

"Where is everybody else now?" Nick asks, changing the subject.

I smile. "Rooney went to live in Russia because he 'didn't feel Russian enough' and wanted to reconnect with his culture. He's living with his boyfriend in Moscow, and he started his own solo music career and is touring all over Russia. Juan moved to the States for college and decided he wanted to stay there after meeting his boyfriend who sings really well. They make music together and tour the world together. Luke started his own solo career too, but he stopped doing concerts. He still makes music, but he wanted to be able to spend more time with his wife and two daughters."

"They all have way better lives than you," Ali said, smirking.

I roll my eyes at him. "Whatever. I don't need fame anymore. I have Nick, I'm good."

I could see Nick blush out of the corner of my eye.

Ali chuckles. "Why don't you tell Nick about you and Rooney, hm?"

I jump to my feet. "Don't you bring that up!"

Nick raises an eyebrow. "What?"

I shoot a piercing glance at Ali, then sit back down next to Nick. "Me and Rooney... well, we were in a relationship together while we were in the band. We were great together; we really could have lasted but once the band broke up, we broke up. We just couldn't do long distance."

Nick looks at his feet. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's fine," I say. I smile and grab his hand, then started tracing the lines on his palm. "Rooney is happy with his boyfriend in Russia and I have you. I don't need Rooney when I have a Nick for myself."

He smiles.

Suddenly, a pillow hits my side. I look to my left to see who threw it. Ali is looking at his feet and holding back a laugh, so I smirk, pick up the pillow and get to my feet.

I walk over to Ali, then swing the pillow in his direction. He quickly dodges it, then laughs and grabs a pillow from next to him and gets to his feet as well.

The two of us start whacking the pillows at each other, running around the living room and laughing like hyenas. My parents look at each other.

My Babam smiles. "They're getting along."

My Annem shakes her head. "They're like children!"

Ali knocks me to the floor and starts whacking his pillow at me. I hold my pillow up to him as a shield, laughing as I block his hits.

My hair comes loose, and I shout, "Okay, okay! I surrender! You win!"

He throws his pillow back onto the couch and goes to sit back down next to Halime, smoothing his shirt out. I sit up and grab my hair tie off the floor, then tie my hair back into its ponytail. I grab the pillow and get off the floor. I place the pillow back on the couch before sitting back down next to Nick.

Suddenly, Adlee comes bounding out of nowhere and jumps onto my lap. "Uncle Alec, I think you won that fight."

I laugh and say, "Yes, I did."

"Hey! You said I won!" Ali shouts at me.

I shrug. "Adlee gave his input. He says I win so therefore, I won."

Ali rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

~

Later on, when the sun had set and the stars came out, me and Nick were sitting on the edge of our bed talking.

"I'm not tired enough to go to sleep now," Nick says, slowly placing his hand over mine.

I twist my hand around and interlock my fingers with his. "Honestly, same. What should we do?"

Nick looks over at me and smirks.

I blush. "Nick! No! My family is in the house! There's a child here!"

Nick laughs. "Chill out, mate! I'm only joking."

I shake my head. "But on a serious note, what should we do?"

Nick squeezes my hand, then turns his head to look out the window. He looks back at me and says, "We could go on a walk."

I smile and say, "That's a great idea! We can get tulumba!"

"What's that?"

"They're like these donut bites. They're so good!"

"Alright. Let's go!"

We hop off the bed and walk out of the room, then walk out into the living room, down the hallway, and through the front door.

~

Me and Nick found a cafe selling tulumba and ordered some to share. He practically melted when he tried it. Hard to believe this man refused to try Turkish food but once he did, it was like the best thing he's ever eaten.

Once we finished and left the cafe, we started walking. We walked to a park and found a bench to sit on.

As we were talking, a brown street cat comes near us and rubs its head all over Nick's legs. Then it hops up into his lap and starts making biscuits on his thighs. It eventually curls up on Nick's lap, purring happily.

Nick scratches the cat's head.

I laugh and pat it's back. "All the animals love you today."

"I must be a Disney princess or something."

I laugh.

Nick sighs and rests his hand on top of mine. "I absolutely love animals. Your family is so nice too. I never thought I'd love it here so much."

I smile and lay my head on top of his. "See? I told you you'd love it here."

CAN THEY GET ANY GAYER??? I LOVE BISEXUAL BRITISH MEN!!!

Anyways, I really hope you enjoyed this one! I hope it wasn’t too long and I’d like some input on the little family I made for Alec and his teenage lore. I worked hard on those

Anyways I love yall take care bye!!! <3

[notthetraveler]

OMG. My 12 y/o brother wrote me a doctor who fanfiction for my birthday!!! With the doctor and the master and original companions!!!

Important context: he is French, and has watched maybe 7/8 episodes of DW (he is also obsessed with the master)

Enjoy!

Characters : Lori Namlyn ; Matt Andrew ; Aaron Koyler ; The Doctor ; The Master

Chapter 1

The Doctor's pov

I travelled time again...

I walk in the street, on my way to find that Aaron Koyle. He'll be easy to find, by the way. I can recognise him in a thousand.

Second house of Hook' street. I have to walk a lot then.

Doctor, you don't have time.

I walk, and walk, and walk again. I'm not even half way... but I have to go there so I just walk again and again. I saw a little kitten on the way but I didn't pay attention at first. But he screams...

Okay I go to see it.

I see a red mark on his paw. Probably blood. Did he fight another cat..? He's a kitten in a city..

Then I see a lady coming to me.

"Hey" she said

I repeat her word.

"What are you doing to this poor kitty ? Are all men really that cruel ? You disgust me." she screamed, pointing at my hand on the cat's paw.

I admit that we can think I made him bleeding, with the pose. The lady walks away but I say

"I didn't do it, I was looking if it was possible to heal quickly."

She turns around.

"I trust you. I was just here to see if you were going to say it or not. My name's Lori, nice to meet you. What's yours ?"

I smirk.

"I'm the Doctor" I say with an even bigger smile

Lori looks at me weirdly, but says nothing. I'm about to walk away. Then she gives me a paper who says "I'm never far away. Just trust me, I am on your side." I look down on the paper and I see a phone number. It's probably Lori's.

I FORGOT

I don't have time...

Chapter 1

Lori's pov

There's a handsome man right here... Maybe I should talk to him..? He takes care of a cat ? Is it his ? Honestly, I don't think so..

Oh, I have an idea.

I come to see him, we talk for a few minutes, and I give my phone number to him.

Chapter 2

The Doctor's pov

I'm in time. Now I have to find him.

He's not here.

I suddenly hear a voice behind me.

"Are you searching me ? I am Aaron Koyle."

"Yes." I say "I have to go somewhere with you."

He looks at me like he doesn't trust me.

"Where ?"

"You'll see. Now follow me."

He takes time to decide. He finally says "Okay."

"Why did you tell me to go there ? There's just a phone in it."

"Follow me inside." I say

"You're weird"

I smirk

"I know. It's weird for a human."

He looks at me again with fear in his eyes.

WAIT. He's about to run away !

"No please, follow me. I swear you're not in danger ! Look"

I open the Tardis' door. It's clear and all we can see except the white walls is a system board in the middle.

"Follow me."

He does what I want, with hesitation.

"Can you explain, now..?" He says

"Okay. I'm not human, I, The Doctor, came from another planet with my enemy, The Master, we're Time Lords, and he wants to kill me. But also you. Go inside my Tardis and just trust me please.

Chapter 2

Aaron's pov

Is someone here ?

I try to ask something like "Are you searching me ?"

I'm afraid... I don't want to die today !

HE RESPONDED

I have to... follow him..?

Can I even trust him ??

I don't think so..

He's guiding me somewhere, I don't even know that place.

We finally arrive

Why here ? Does he want to call someone ?

HE'S NOT HUMAN ?????

Please help me.

I'm about to run away

"Please trust me" I can't, sorry.

He opens a door and all I see is walls everywhere and a system board in the middle. There's no phone.

It's bigger inside than outside.

I want to know him. He explains.

Chapter 3

The Doctor's pov

I'm about to travel time again but I remember Lori. I ask Aaron to stay in the Tardis and just wait a few minutes. I return to him with a lady, Lori.

...

There's something wrong.

"Aaron, did you do anything ?"

"No, I did what you wanted me to do : stay here. I didn't touch anything or something like that"

I hear something behind me. The Master ! I close the Tardis and ask Lori and Aaron to keep the doors closed.

I go to the board and use the buttons to travel time again.

THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG

I search what is wrong

I see it

Someone cutted the time traveler wire !

I have to fight. I open the door and The Master looks at me. He smirks

"Finally, Doctor. I almost had to wait."

We fight a bit and he leaves me saying that he got what he wanted.

Chapter 3

The Master's pov

I know he's about to travel time. My target is in the Tardis. Aaron Koyle...

The Doctor leaves the Tardis.

It's my time. I'll manipulate Aaron to do what I want him to do.

He cutted the time traveler wire. I won today.

Matt will go to the Doctor in one hour. Let's just wait in a shadow.

Chapter 4

Matt's pov

Does The Master really think I'm dumb ? I'm not gonna listen to him anyways.

I see the Doctor's Tardis.

I see someone. Is he the Doctor ? Let's talk. I know the Master is watching.

"Hey, I'm Matt Andrew. Can we talk ?" I say

"Hum yes, I'm the Doctor. Nice to meet you. Where do you want to go ?"

Yes. He is the Doctor.

"Just at a place where nobody can listen."

I don't feel the Master here. So I tell the Doctor all I know and my intentions.

He wants me to go with him. I say yes and return to the Tardis to "remake" the broken wire and now we can travel time. The Master will be easy to fight in the past.

Chapter 5

The Doctor's pov

Matt helped me with the wire, I'm so thankful ! The Master is becoming too strong for me, I have to return in the past if I want to win.

October 19, 1955

Now I have to find the Master.

I hear something behing me. It's Aaron... with a weird face...

"Doctor. Thank you for helping me. Now I can tell you a secret." He smiles "I'm not on your side. The Master is my brother. You two are not the only ones who escaped our planet. I'm here to help my brother killing you."

I look at him.

"Where is the Master ?"

"Oh, just behind you."

"Hi, Doctor. I didn't think you were about to leave me alone. It's not you."

I can't do anything.

Then, someone saves me, fighting with The Master. It's Matt ! I see Lori too. She's with Aaron, also fighting.

I help Matt and the Master finally dies again. Aaron runs away.

Lori is bleeding a lot.

We return to the Tardis before the Matser lives again. Matt knows how to heal Lori.

Let's quit the past. Wait... Matt and Lori... they kissed ! It's more than a victory now.

*_The end~_*