#they are literally cut from the same cloth pls make it make sense! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bonny-kookoo · 4 years

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Hold it (JJK x Reader) 👽💜☁️🔞

💚 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

💚 Genre: Alien AU!, friends to lovers, fluff, angst (!), smut

💚 Warnings: (oh boy) soft boi kook, sex talk, angst, miscommunication, small argument, mentions of an animal attack, mentions of blood and a bite wound, aggressive Kookie, you all finally get your nasty time, soft sex, soft!dom Kookster, size kink, strength kink, marking, biting, bruising, manhandling, mentions of attempted masturbation, big dick kook, kook basically has an alien dick what y’all want from me, you wanted this don’t ever forget that, knotting(in a sense, like his dick inflates when he cums lol), lots of cum, transluscent tentacle action, squirting, soft confession, unprotected sex because they can’t reproduce, this is an alien Au pls use condoms in real life thank you, mildly possessive kook, aftercare, messy sex

💚 Summary: The world is literally ending. In a last effort to save earth, the race of Alcor demands humanities planet to be given into their care, as humans have been slowly killing the planet for way too long. But it’s humanity we’re talking about; they never give up without a fight. Even if they should.

Part of the Alien!JK series!

Catch it | Hold it | Keep it | Save it | ???

Jungkook's and your relationship slowly became.. more and more intimate you could say.

He'd openly talked about his romantic interest in you several times before, and you've grown quite fond of him as well over the course of time. You've learned that Alcorians had no understanding of sarcasm whatsoever, and typically spoke quite bluntly and openly about what they thought. It was seen as charming if you were able to speak without holding back anything, and it was something your shy self had to get used to first. Jungkook however had studied quite a lot about humans however, so by now, he was a self-proclaimed expert in human behavior. You had to admit though, he did do his homework.

Whenever Namjoon was over to check up on you, (something he had to, since it was a rule made by the alcorian government to check up on humans every month to make sure they're treated well) Jungkook proudly explained to him what he'd learned about your kind, almost like a kid showing a new drawing. He even went out to find cookbooks that described human desserts and treats just to learn how to make some of your favorite thing. It was endearing, really.

You also found out more layers of his personality.

He was incredibly sensitive to smells and fabrics, all of his blankets having a specific soft but not too soft feeling to them. He liked sweet and gentle smells, and always told you that your 'main smell' as he called it, was absolutely his favorite. Alcorians had heightened senses Namjoon had explained to you, which was why Jungkook easily picked up on things that you stayed oblivious to.

He loved if you wore his jackets or sweaters, and he most recently bought you a delicate locket bracelet with his information on it. It was beautifully made and looked great- but you still wore the collar he'd give you most of the time. When he'd asked you once you had explained to him that it was a comfort thing for you- other alcorians could easily spot that you were claimed, and wouldn't look at you funny. He'd smiled at that, and had also made sure to hug you a lot that night.

It took him a while to grow confident enough in his own ability to restrain himself during the night to let you sleep in the same bed as him. He'd been absolutely scared shitless that he'd roll you over in his sleep, but you'd assured him that he didn't move that much, so it would be fine. What he was still completely terrified of, it seemed like, was intimacy.

Now, you both had been getting as far as kissing. He loved the gesture, and loved to kiss you randomly during the day- that wasn't the issue. But whenever you tried to get him to do something more- he found some reason to simply book it before he could let himself be swept away.

And you were growing frustrated.

It wasn't that you couldn't wait for it, or that you were desperate- you could definitely give him time, if he'd finally tell you clearly if he even wanted that with you. If you thought about it, you didn't even know if Alcorians had sex like humans. Maybe they didn't do it like that, maybe they had some odd form of ritual or whatever- you had no idea, and you refused to talk to namjoon about it of all people. You knew that he would probably explain it to you, in quite detail since alcorians were like that, but you somehow wanted Jungkook to explain it to you instead. Yeah, maybe you should ask him about it- or maybe you could be difficult.

So as you laid on the bed that was way too big for you, you simply let your mind wander, having a bit of time for yourself. And as any sex-deprived human being, you decided to let your fantasies take over your mind, uncaring about Jungkook- since he'd been out for a bit, meeting up with a friend he'd said.

You wondered what he'd look like. In a lot of ways, alcorians were very similar to humans- but you somehow had a feeling that there had to be something different about their anatomy if you couldn't reproduce like Namjoon had once mentioned. Judging from his accidental boner a few days ago, you had quite the suspicion that he was.. well packaged, to say the least. He'd been a bit embarrassed about it when you'd shyly pointed it out, and ever since then, he'd made sure to get up earlier than you to avoid you seeing his morning wood, something that you'd told him was completely normal, and not at all something to be ashamed of. He seemed a bit nervous every time you brought that topic up, however, which did make you wonder.

Maybe he just wasn't into you like that? Or maybe he was a rough person in bed. The thought of that made your spine shudder, a spark igniting inside you as your mind came up with images of his hands holding your wrists above your head, those sweet lips of his tracing your skin and leaving prints of invisible fire behind. Your hand slowly wandered lower, fingers pushing against your clothed core as you practically heard him purr into your ear how good you were being for him. Was he possessive? Was he dominant? Or was he gentle and sweet? You couldn't know.

"Y/N I-" He suddenly stood in the door, making you yelp as you quickly pulled the covers over you. A useless action really, since you didn't even get to undress yourself- thankfully. If he would've arrived any later, it would've been so much more awkward. "Are you okay?" He asked, genuine and almost innocent concern in his voice as he looked at you.

This was so fucking awkward.

You could practically feel your cheeks heat up as the embarrassment hit you, realization that you almost masturbated in his bed of all places taking over your mind as you tried to come up with something to talk yourself out of it. "Yeah, yeah! Nothing wrong just eh.. tired." You said, not meeting his gaze as his brows furrowed, now fully taking you in.

You were shy about something, that much he knew. He'd studied your body language by now to a point were he knew that you were okay, but uncomfortable. Your cheeks were tinted a flushed pink, eyes not meeting his as you squeezed the sheets in your hands, legs underneath the covers moving restlessly. His eyes widened as he finally took in every aspect of the situation. Your breath was still a bit quicker than usual, the shyness, and the smell that hung in the air.

"Were you.. pleasuring yourself?" He asked, pupils dilated now that he had connected the dots. You'd been touching yourself in his bedroom, on his bed, while he hadn't been there. Why would you do that? Did you not want him like that? Did he make you uncomfortable?

"I uh.. Oh god this is so awkward." You said, dropping your face into your hands as Jungkook stepped closer, before sitting on the bed, across from you.

"Namjoon had explained to me that humans do that to feel good." He said, gaze never wavering from you as he continued. "But he also said that you only do that when you don't have a partner." He continued, now leaning forwards a bit, voice a bit whiny as he seemed confused. "You have me though? Why would you do that alone if you have me?" He asked, and you just wanted to disappear as you bit your lip, trying to explain it to him without making it sound awkward.

"Jungkook we.. we do that to mainly feel close to, you know, romantic partners." You explained, making his brows furrow even further. "Humans don't, you know, always need to go the full way." You said, as he intently listened. "Touching each other is also a way to feel close." You said, and he suddenly seemed hurt.

"So you don't see me as a romantic partner, is that it?" He said, and you could've sworn, if he had dog ears they would hang low right now with the look he has on his face. "You don't like me enough." He finalized, as you shook your head frantically.

"No Jungkook, I do like you, more than anybody just-" You tried, as his eyes got a bit more hopeful. "Its just hard to explain-" You started, as he cut you off.

"Teach me then. Show me." He said. "I want to know the human way." He almost pleaded, as you sighed.

"Jungkook, its not like I don't want to teach you.." You started, as you looked down. "We humans get uhm.. attached really quickly if we do that with a person. It's like giving away a part of yourself, you know?" You said, and he suddenly grew gentle, now fully realizing what you were on about.

"I-" He began, as he suddenly almost looked shy. "We couldn't do that anyways." He confessed, as you looked at him in question. "I'd hurt you. Thats why I want to, you know, touch you." He explained to you, a finger hesitantly running over the skin on the back of your hand. "I want to be as close to you as I can without having to worry about hurting you.." He murmured, as you took his hand in yours.

"You'd never hurt me Jungkook. I trust you-" You began, but he suddenly shook his head, serious expression on his face as he avoided your gaze.

"No." He said, slowly getting up. "Let's forget this conversation happened, okay?" He said, and you watched helplessly as he left the room. "I'll uhm.. go start dinner." He threw your way before leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Things were tense between you and jungkook these days.

So tense in fact, that Namjoon noticed it.

"So, I'd say you're quite healthy. Jungkook takes really good care of you I see." He said with a gentle smile, making you reciprocate it in good manner. "However, I kind of have to address the elephant in the room here, as humans would say." He said, and Jungkook furrowed his brows.

"Who or what is an elephant?" He asked, and you giggled at that.

"Doesn't matter. What does however is, that I sense something wrong between you two." Namjoon said, as Jungkook suddenly got very defensive. In all honesty, it shocked you a bit, since you've never seen him like that before.

"That doesn't concern you at all Namjoon." He said, as the elder one suddenly shook his head.

"It does if it affects Y/N's mental health, which it could, in the long run." He stated, making Jungkooks eyes widen.

"Namjoon- I'm fine-" You tried, a hand reaching out for his shoulder as Jungkook dashed forwards, prohibiting you from touching him as he held your hand, a bit too tightly as you whinced, making him snap out of whatever daze he seemed to be in. He however, seemed surprised as well at his outburst.

"That's what I mean." Namjoon said, putting his equipment away. "Have you two had intercourse yet?" He bluntly asked, and you looked at him scandalized, as if he'd just told you your mom was fat. Jungkooks pupils contracted again at that, ready to bark back an angry comment, as Namjoon pushed against the youngers chest. "I assume you didn't, judging by that reaction." He commented, making you want to hide. Why were alcorians so.. blunt. "Jungkook, you either have to find yourself a partner, or I'll have to take her out of your care soon." He stated, and you almost gasped as Jungkook suddenly grew tense as well.

"W-why, you just said I take good care of her-!" He argued, making Namjoon nod.

"You do, but at the same time-" He said, gaze pointing at your now red wrist hidden with your other hand. "-but you're also a danger to her as long as you are as frustrated as you are now." He explained, making jungkook grow serious. "I can't help you with that decision. However, please keep in mind that you're not the only ones that have this form of romantic involvement. What keeps you from involving yourself Jungkook?" He asked the younger, who didn't dare look at you in that moment.

"I'll hurt her Namjoon-" He said, frustrated. "And I honestly really don't want to talk about my sexual involvement with her, thank you very much." He grumbled out between gritted teeth, eyes holding an almost aggressive stare as he looked at the elder one.

"You mean your lack thereof." Namjoon dared to say with a raised eyebrow, as Jungkook suddenly jumped up, grabbing the older one's bag and walking towards the door as he opened it with force, face clearly showing that he'd just crossed a line for him.

"I mean that it's time for you to go, Namjoon." He pressed out, as Namjoon sighed, getting up to walk out, getting no time to say goodbye.

It was probably better that way anyways.

Things did not get better after this.

Just like Namjoon had worried about, Jungkook slowly became more and more jumpy around you, leaving you alone more and more, as if he needed to distance himself from you. Did he finally grow tired of you? Did he really suffer? Maybe you should just leave him alone for a bit you decided, walking out of the apartment and down the busy streets of the town, aimlessly walking around as you watched other alcorians go after their day. You saw couples, alcorian and mixed, walking hand in hand or simply side by side, an elderly pair watching some young kids running around with a balloon like toy, and a group of friends it seemed, happily chatting away. You spotted some streetfood, sighing internally at forgetting your tiny wallet Jungkook had given you, always containing a bit of money so you could buy yourself a snack whenever you went out. You watched as some uniformed teenagers ran towards the train station- or something that looked quite similar. It worked a bit differently, but Jungkook had once explained that alcorians had been monitoring human inventions for centuries now, taking a lot of inspiration from them.

It all felt a bit sad to you now.

Maybe you were finally growing homesick after your months of living here, or maybe it was the added fuel of Jungkooks slow but steady detachment from you that simply hurt you. But it made you feel almost hollow, and you decided you hated that feeling.

All of this felt so surreal to you.

First you loose your home, then your entire planet, and now you were close to being alone again. Why did that make you so upset though? You'd been living on your own for years now, only having fleeting friendships and a single puppy love back in school. You had no intentions of growing attached to someone, you'd sworn yourself to be independent when your mom had thrown you out years ago- but here you were, almost crying over an alien boy who'd took you in simply because he'd taken pity on you. It all felt like a sick joke.

Something in your pocked buzzed, making you snap out of your thoughts as you fished for the device, Jungkooks face smiling at you as it showed him calling. You wanted to accept the call as if out of habit, but you resisted. Maybe it was better not to.

You put it away again, getting up from the bench you'd been sitting on as you continued walking towards nowhere, suns slowly dipping low as the skies became purple and fiery red, signaling the return of night. You should turn around by now, you knew this. Alcorian nights were not only chilly but downright icy- way too cold for your fragile body, as Jungkook always said before wrapping one of his scarfs around you.

The steady buzz in your pocket was getting annoying, as you took it out, only to see that he didn't call. In fact, he'd been writing messages? Jungkook never texted.

'Where are you little one?'

'Are you mad at me?'

'Did I do something wrong? I swear I didn't mean to!'

'Please, its getting dark, where are you? Are you wearing your coat at least?'

'I'm sorry, whatever I did, please. I'm worried little one!'

You looked at the messaged with increasing guilt as another one rolled in.

'Please come home.'

You sighed, dialing his number as you wrapped your unoccupied arm around yourself, the chill now seeping into your bones slowly. Jungkook almost immediately picked up, voice breathless as if he'd run a marathon. You could faintly hear people talking in the background, and his boots on the ground as he.. ran?

"Finally! Please, where are you, I'm so worried-" He said, and you slowly felt your teeth clatter against each other as you shivered.

"I uh.. I don't know, honestly." You admitted, and Jungkook seemed to stop in his tracks.

"What do you see around you?" He asked, voice serious as you looked around.

"I- a small store, but it seems closed. There's like, a road and uhm.. a lot of plants. Looks like a forest?" You said, before something caught your eye. "There's uhm.. Something looking at me?" You said, and Jungkooks inner alarm bells were immediately ringing.

"Is there a sign that says 'Malvor' on it?" He asked, and you confirmed with a worried voice.

"Yeah uhm and- there's a dog-like thing now walking towards me?" You said, and Jungkook answered instantly.

"Dog..? Dog-! Y/N, get away from it, but dont run." He said seriously, making you swallow as you watched the creature with huge ears stalk towards you, visibly interested. It didn't seem all that harmful. "Little one, answer me. Did you get what I said?" He asked, and you answered.

"Yeah yeah I got it eh.. I'm.." You started, as suddenly, the.. dog? Whatever it was, jumped forwards, making you drop your phone as its teeth latched onto your shirt, quickly loosing interest in the fabric as it decided to take your arm instead- spiky teeth immediately breaking skin as you yelped out, trying to open its mouth with your unoccupied hand. The commotion was loud enough to lure out an alcorian man nearby, who gruffly threw stray pebbles at the animal, scaring it off after a moment.

"Fuck- are you okay?" The stranger asked, bright cateyes looking down at you as he turned around. "Joon! Come down!" He yelled, as you looked into the direction with teary eyes, spotting- Namjoon?

"Oh Y/N- what happened?" He asked, suddenly visibly worried as he looked at you, immediately helping you up and leading you inside the house nearby that seemed to be his apartment. He looked different, now that he didn't wear his work attire. He almost looked domestic. "Set her down there, I'll go get a first aid kit." He said, before you were led to sit on a couch, the person that threw pebbles before sitting down next to you.

"I'm Jin. We'll fix you right up, okay?" He softly said, voice gentle and reminding you of the store owner down on earth who always let you roam around inside the store during winter. "Don't cry, it's gonna be okay. Encounters with Velvens can be scary yeah?" He consoled you, hands holding your arm gently as he waited for Namjoon to get everything he needed. You sniffled, trying not to cry, but it got harder the more you tried not to look down. As soon as you did, you began to feel nauseous as Jin pulled at your chin. "No no no don't look sweetheart." He said, before Namjoon came downstairs.

"These things are getting progressively more daring these days." He mumbled as he took out scissors to cut the sleeve of your shirt. "I tell you, it's because that damn lady feeding those goddamn things!" He complained, as Jin sighed. You looked at him for a second, taking in his appearance. He had broad shoulders, and an absolutely charming face- his bright eyes contrasting his dark hair as he held a gentle smile on his plush lips, trying to calm you down it seemed. "I'll give you a tiny injection okay? Its to numb your arm, or otherwise it'll hurt too bad." Namjoon explained, and you nodded, even though you were internally terrified. "one two- there we go!" He hummed out, Jin steadily running his hand over your back as he watched you.

"You're so brave young lady." He complimented, velvet voice helping a bit to ease your worry. It wasn't just your encounter with whatever that thing was, but also the fact that for the first time, you were somewhere without Jungkook- and it made you extremely anxious to say the least. Thats when you remembered your phone.

"My phone-" You began, before someone knocked at the door- or more like, tried to kick it in, it seemed. The voice that rang through the room through the door however, was familiar to your ears.

"Y/N! Namjoon, Jin, have you seen her?! There's- oh god there's blood out here-" He said worried, as Jin slowly stood up, opening the door as he simply pointed towards your form, sitting on the couch as Namjoon cleaned the bite wound. At the sight of him, all worried and out of breath, the guilt suddenly flooded your mind as you teared up, finally cracking up as the tears ran down your cheek, a sob escaping you as you began to cry. "Oh little one-" He immediately said, running towards you.

Jin looked from you to Jungkook worried. "Why is she crying now? Is she scared?" He asked confused, as the second oldest in the room shook his head.

"Probably the shock. It's normal for humans, they're a bit more sensitive to these things, remember?" He said softly, as Jin nodded.

Jungkook didn't seem to care about what was said as he squatted down next to Namjoon, hand running over your head before it cupped your cheek, his eyes blown wide open as he looked at you, then at the wound. "She's gonna be okay right?" He asked, and Namjoon nodded.

"It pulled a bit on her arm, which did a good amount of damage, but its only a surface wound, surprisingly." He explained. "I'll stitch the biggest spots, and bandage it." He said, and Jungkook nodded. "You'll be able to do it afterwards if you watch me do it, right?" He asked, and Jungkook nodded, serious, as he held your other hand. He sat down, close to you, as he now took over Jins earlier part of rubbing your back. "And there we go." Namjoon said, as he finished it. "I'd give you pain medicine but I don't have anything for humans. I'll give you some kids medication instead. That should be fine." He explained, as he gave Jungkook a small package. "Please keep an eye on her from now on. She's gotten away this time, and I wont ask why she was so far away from you in the first place. But the next time this happens, I will have to report it Jungkook." He said, making Jungkook lower his head as he nodded.

He took off his jacket as he threw it over your shoulders, picking you up as he said his goodbyes to Jin and Namjoon, walking out with you in his arms.

"Jungkook?" You carefully asked one night, making him humm as he confirmed that he was listening. "I.. want to know." You said, and it took him a moment until he turned on the light beside the bed, leaning on his arm as he looked at you questioningly. "You said, you're sure you'd hurt me. I wanna know why." You said, and he sighed, before he sat up.

"I uhm.." He started, as he scratched the back of his neck. "I'ts just, not gonna fit." He explained, as you tried to push your shyness to the side.

"But you know.. we haven't tried yet-" You began, as he shook his head.

"I said no." He sternly said, making you visibly deflate as he sighed again.

"I.. we could still, you know.." He began, and you looked at him, as he seemed to struggle a bit with his words. "I know you want to be close to me, and I want that too." He said, and you sat up now as well, looking at him.

"It's okay if you want to be with someone else-" You began, but he groaned, as if he was frustrated.

"No! Now I get why you left that day.." He held your head in his hands as he looked at you with gentle eyes. "I don't want anyone else that's not you little one." He confessed, and you just stared, as he leaned in, connecting his lips with yours.

Usually, his kisses were more like little pecks, small gestures of affection, never to lead to anything else. But this time, he asked for it. It was as if he'd let himself loose, kissing you fully for the first time, not backing away like typically when you leaned in with need. He parted your lips with his tongue, hands lowering themselves as they moved over your arms, resting on your thighs as he closed his eyes, loosing himself in the feeling of you. He finally moved around a bit, laying you down on your back as he towered over you, body shielding you away from the world as his hands finally explored your bare skin underneath the small layer of clothing you wore, chuckling as you whined when his hand softly squeezed one of your breasts, loving the soft feeling of it. "You're so cute." He whispered, making you squirm underneath him as his breathing quickened, holding himself back from absolutely ruining you.

He suddenly took off his shirt, helping you out of yours as he growled at the fact that you didn't wear a bra at all to sleep. It didn't really bug him usually, but now, he wondered how he managed to contain himself next to you for all these nights next to you, the only thing between his and your skin a mere piece of fabric. Your skin was pure sin underneath his fingertips as he felt himself twitch inside his sweats. He needed to get out of them.

He helped you out of your shorts, taking your underwear with them as his gaze got stuck on the small strand of glistening wetness clinging to the fabric of your panties. It was a clear sign how aroused you were, and it was an absolute compliment towards him in his own eyes- the fact that he could rile you up like this so quickly made him feel proud in a way. He growled almost at the sight, hand immediately finding its way downwards as his fingers teasingly running over your folds, his face showing how mesmerized he was by your body's reaction to him.

There was a reason alcorian woman were envious of human ones- and Jungkook finally found some reasoning behind the 'human-kink' going on with the arrival of your race on his homeplanet. Your body just screamed fertility at him, and it made him desperate as he finally got rid of the last pieces of clothing.

You didn't quite know what you were expecting, but your mind was empty as you made eye contact with his painfully erect length.

He was practically oozing precum at this stage, standing proudly as you somehow understood now where his worries came from. To be quite blunt about it, he looked quite normal, a little bigger even for his own body height, apart from the soft looking growth on the base of himself. "It looks odd to you, doesn't it?" He saig as he chuckled a bit hesitantly, having watched your reaction to him. You shook your head however, smiling as you reached for his shoulders, pulling him down again as you kissed his lips. He smiled into it, hands never leaving your skin as you felt him against your inner thigh, growing uneasy that he was so close- but still too far away.

"Hm I told you no little one.." He hummed against your neck as he left open mouthed kisses there, teasingly biting the skin there from time to time as you whined. "But there's other things we can do, don't worry.." He whispered, as he suddenly moved you a bit, careful not to be too rough as he lined your wet center up, the back of your thighs leaning on top of his as he sat on his knees, his cock resting between your lower lips. He almost let out a whine at the feeling of your warmth just underneath him as he simply let his length move over your core as you mewled at the feeling of him rubbing over your clit. He squeezed his eyes shut, summoning all his self control as he dropped down, hands gripping your thighs, yet gentle enough not to seriously hurt you.

He suddenly shifted again, leaning down with his chest first onto the mattress first as he threw your legs over his shoulders, leaking core exposed to him as he licked a stripe up your folds, teasing you as you tried to keep your legs apart. He hummed against you, making you whine out pleadingly as he entered a finger of his, groaning at the feeling of you already clenching around him. "You're so soft little one.." He praised, adding another finger as he began to stretch you out, making you grasp the sheets below you in desperate fists. Digit after digit he tested the waters, stretching you out more and more as you became restless, suddenly tensing up as you felt yourself close. "My little human gonna cum?" He questioned, leaning his head on the inside of your upper thigh as he began to stimulate your most sensitive bundle of nerves, watching in absolute adoration as you suddenly mewled out, core clenching around nothing as he slowed down his movements, letting you ride it out. He smiled down at you as he gently placed your legs back down, giving you a moment to breathe as you looked at him, or his still very uncomfortable looking errection between his legs.

"Please koo.. lets just try-" You began, as he furrowed his brows, gasping as your fingers reached down, barely reaching the sensitive head of his member as he tried to deny your request.

He couldn't.

"I'll.. You have to tell me when its too much, please-" He pleaded, and you nodded frantically, happy to finally have him give you everything you wanted. "Okay, okay.." He chanted, as if to calm himself down, his tensed up thighs a clear sign of his own frustration. He slowly aligned himself with your core, gently pressing his head into your patiently waiting hole, as you closed your eyes, trying to not concentrate on the sting. "Shh.. please relax little one-" He chanted as he took it as slow as possible. "Please relax, I won't get it in if you're too tense baby.." He said, the petname making you melt under his gaze as you took a deep breath, slowly loosening up for him as he was slowly able to push himself inside more and more, watching as he could see himself slightly move inside you just underneath your lower belly.

He didn't know why exactly, but he loved the sight of it.

You looked to absolutely adorable in a way, speared on his length as he rubbed his thumbs over your hipbones, careful as ever not to make it too painful for you. "You're taking me so well, you're so perfect for me.." He hummed out, as you suddenly twitched underneath him when his weird small growth touched your sensitive clit, making him chuckle. "You know.." He suddenly said, voice deep and dark as you felt yourself shiver. "They say human females can cum multiple times.." He explained, making you open your eyes a bit in question. "I wonder if that's just a rumor?" He mused, watching you as you looked a bit confused. "Alcorian girls rarely ever cum.." He explained, as you slowly connected the pieces, somehow understanding what he was saying. You'd heard that before as well, that Alcorians had a hard time really getting pregnant and since woman rarely ever orgasmed, men had to step up their game evolution wise Namjoon had said, but you hadn't really asked what he meant by that. But now that you've noticed it, it did make sense; the weird stimulating.. whatever that was, the amount of precum that seemed almost ridiculous for human standards- it made you wonder what else he was hiding.

"There we go.." He finally said, not fully inside, but knowing that this was as far as he could go with you. There was no way he could fit himself inside you fully, and he knew that. He simply let yourself adjust for a moment, before he moves, a moan leaving him as he bit his lip, trying to keep his pace slow and steady for you as you arched your back enticingly, making him grab at your chest. "You're so- enchanting-" He gasped out between breaths, an almost sobbing sound escaping him without tears as he finally realized how close he was with you. He was connected in the most intimate of ways, and he could finally see why humans found pleasure in an act as basic as this.

You felt like home, warm and comforting.

You became a bit jumpy as something foreign seemed to touch you- warm and gentle, but you couldn't quite make out it's shape or form. It was blurred, as if summer heat was distorting the scene for you, and you wondered immediately if this was just your imagination. But Jungkook noticed your confusion immediately it seemed, smiling a bit shyly at you. "They're uhm.." He tried to think of a good way to explain it while having foggy thoughts, still buried so deep inside you. "we call them ferons.." He hummed, and you reached out, fingers immediately retracting at the weird feeling of them. "They're usually.. not visible-" He gasped out, chuckling at the way you seemed so interested in them. "They're ah-.. they're a remnant of when we uh.. had to survive on our own." He explained, as one of them gently moved over your ribs, a touch similar to warm water- just without the wet feeling. It was more like a red warming lamp shining on your skin. "They must be weird to you, hm?" He asked, head dipping down as you smiled, hand finding its way into his hair as you closed your eyes again, letting yourself go into his care without worry.

"Nothing about you is weird to me, Jungkook." You hummed out, and he kissed your skin in exchange.

As if to thank you silently for accepting him.

His lips parted, face dipped down to mouth at your neck, as he breathlessly pleaded. "Can I mark you?" He chanted, as if he was in a trance. "Please let me mark you.. please little one, let me make you mine.." He said, and you nodded, unknowing to what exactly you'd just agreed to.

You found out quite quickly, as he suddenly took a small bit of skin between his teeth, now biting with much more force until he tasted a slight taste of iron on his tongue, leaving marks all along your neck and collarbone, bruises already blooming to blossom into beautiful shades of purples and greens, his mark staying behind for a long time. He smiled as if he was high, loosing himself in the feeling of your body underneath him as you suddenly quivered, whining out as you pushed your head into the mattress below you, making your back arch as he continued at his pace, going a bit faster as something moved over your clit, something holding your hips in place as you suddenly snapped, orgasm rushing through you as you finally flew over the edge, your thighs trembling as you felt wetness escape you, making him release a sound that sounded awfully like a growl.

Suddenly he came- and you felt like you were splitting into two.

Something was happening inside you, growing in size, as he was suddenly locked in place it seemed, hands carefully running over your head as he started to frantically console you. "It's okay, its okay.." He repeated in a soothing way as you felt him spill inside you to no end it seemed, feeling how he stretched you even more inside. You felt like you'd burst any second. "Ngh.. you're taking it so well, so good, so perfect.." He exhaled, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder as he breathed heavily. "You're okay, you're fine.." He hummed as he slowly felt you calm down as he stayed still, waiting for his cock to soften up again and deflate, as he kissed your cheeks, your nose, your lips in absolute adoration, warm ferons warming up your still shivering legs. "My god you're so sweet-" He murmured. "So absolutely perfect-" He continued. "And mine.. only mine.. my little human.." He sang almost as he kissed the marks he'd left behind.

It felt odd as he finally softened up, cum instantly seeping out of you as he was able to comfortably slip out of you. You whined at the empty feeling and he cooed at you. "I'm so sorry- I originally was planning on pulling out before that happened, but then you... did that and-" He chuckled, as he kissed your nose again, making you giggle. "I love you." He confessed, and you opened your eyes, gaze locking with his.

"I love you too."

"You could've warned me of your.. weird invisible tentacles and all that-" You started randomly as he threw his head back, cheeks dursted pink as he held his hands over his face in embarrassment.

"Stop-!" He whined, as you laughed your heart out.

"I thought you alcorians didn't feel shame all that much about this stuff?" You teased, as he looked at you, playfully angry stare sent your way, before he got up from his spot, throwing you over his shoulder.

"Oh I'm gonna show you how unashamed we are."

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Alcoria AU

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bopbopstyles · 4 years

Photo

ELEVATED SURFACES

RATING: R/smut (sex, heavy alcohol use, smoking, lots of cursing)

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry

MASTERLIST (check it out for extras) | INSPO TAG | PLAYLIST

a/n: as a recently graduated srat girl and lover of a good frat party, this one shot was intended to fill the whole in my heart which is LEGIT frat Harry. he is fratty and hot and long haired and a mess. if u like this try out TEMPTATION which is my other frat!h series and the first thing i ever wrote on this gd website (he’s not as fratty but we love him a LOT)

a/n pt.2: as a note, i want to make very clear that frats and greek organizations frequently harbor predators and abusers. i do not in any way condone that behavior or that reality, and i would like to bring attention to a petition to remove a fraterity that had done truly many horrible things--your signature would be a huge help. for survivors of assault, you are not alone, and it is not your fault.

As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.

Harry is a very fratty frat boy and Y/N is a really good dancer

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

“We really should not be still going to our own mixers,” Emily said to you, fluffing her hair and rotating to check her ass in her jeans. You looked up from where you were sitting on your bed, a gin and tonic in one hand to get your blood flowing before the party started. Emily sighed, and then turned from the mirror to you, grabbing the coffee cup that had never seen coffee, just alcohol. “Are people even going?”

You nodded, tossing your phone next to you and leaning against the bed frame. “Alexis is on her way over—she got held up finishing an essay. Maya said she might come, I tried to convince her by promising I’d bring my flask and you’d have your Juul.”

“I swear, she has to just give in and get one of her own.” Emily took a long sip and crossed her arms.

“She claims that will make her addicted.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “She’s already addicted—she uses half my pods and ends up hanging out with whatever guy will let her take a hit. Is it just going to be us and all the new members?”

“No, I think some juniors are going. And definitely the sophomores—they’re all on the little hunt.” You got up, going to your computer to change the song, scrolling through your comprehensive and well-curated pregame playlist. “Plus, who gives a fuck, we’ll only be there for an hour or two for the free alcohol and then we’re hitting the bars.”

“True.” A knock came from the door, and Emily hollered to come in, and Alexis appeared in the doorway, her makeup looking utterly flawless as always. You had always wanted Alexis’s wardrobe and told her constantly, to which Alexis always replied that she wished you were the same size. Unfortunately, Alexis was a solid five inches shorter than you and had a completely different bra size, making sharing quite difficult.

“Bitches, I brought tequila!” Alexis swung into the room in a cloud of perfume, and threw her arms around you and Emily’s shoulders. “Come on, we need to get tipsy before we get to this mixer. Nick already texted me making sure I was coming.”

“Grab the shot glasses,” You replied, nodding to the makeshift bar cart in the corner, which as laden with glasses of all kinds and all your alcohol. “Are you hooking up with him tonight?”

Alexis shrugged, pulling her tequila from her bag and setting it on your desk before turning and going for the shot glasses. “Probably. I don’t know, he’s been weird lately—we hooked up on Monday night, but then he got all weird and left like immediately after and hasn’t texted me since. Barely acknowledged me when we saw each other in the library.”

“Was the sex weird?” Emily asked, unscrewing the top on the tequila so she could pour.

“Yeah,” Alexis replied, holding the glasses steady while Emily poured. “Like weirdly…intense? I let him come inside me which was probably a stupid idea, but I’m on the IUD so we should be all good. And then I offered to let him stay and he just got all flustered and said he had to go.”

You took your full shot glass, and you all clinked before tossing them back, the alcohol burning on your throat. You hated tequila shots but Alexis loved them, and you did admit they did their job. “Do you think he’s caught feelings?”

Alexis’s eyes widened. She had been pining after Nick for ages, his tall basketball stature and surprisingly good fashion sense a dime a dozen. Much less, apparently the sex was insane, so what wasn’t to like? “You think? I thought it might’ve not been his vibe.”

Emily grabbed the bottle. “Another?” You all nodded, and she poured again, The Weeknd crooning in the background. “Just see what happens tonight, feel out what his vibe his.”

“Good idea.” You slammed back another shot, hissing before setting down the glass. “Okay, that’s enough tequila or you two are going to be carrying me home tonight.”

Emily and Alexis laughed, before taking seats on your bed, continuing to chatter about the night ahead. It was a Friday, your favorite night because it was usually just mixers, no general parties, which as a senior you had grown to despise. The fighting for watered down alcohol, packed bodies and horrific gender ratio was simply no longer something you had the energy to deal with. Mixers were your preferred zone, filled with your sorority sisters who you adored, the opportunity to actually hang out with the frat brothers whose presence you enjoyed, and usually pong. Sometimes they even let you DJ because you had the best party playlists. The president of Sig Ep had actually asked for the link one time and you’d heard they used it sometimes when the brothers didn’t want to man the computer anymore.

You surveyed your outfit in your narrow mirror, the black denim jeans and simple white tank that showed a bit of stomach and your tan you’d worked hard on during your winter escape to the Caribbean with your lineage. It was simple, yet it suited your needs—after three and a half years of college parties, you had discovered getting dressed up for frat parties was a useless activity, since your clothes would get drenched in jungle juice and sweat anyways. You left your best outfits for Saturday nights spent clubbing downtown.

If you were being honest, the whole reason you were going tonight was because at the last mixer you’d had with Beta, you’d turned around on the dance floor to find Harry’s eyes on you. You were already dancing with another one of the brothers and ended up making out with him in a corner until you got bored, but you hadn’t been able to get the sight of his eyes on you out of your head.

You’d known Harry since freshman year, your interactions limited mostly to mixers and the occasional run-in in the dining halls when you exchanged pleasantries, or the one time he’d volunteered for a karaoke team for your sorority philanthropy event and you’d been in charge of his team. But the two of you had rarely ever spent time together. That didn’t mean you hadn’t had a lingering crush on him since you’d first laid eyes on him, though, and over the years he’d only gotten more attracted. A body that filled out his white t-shirts and black jeans, hair long and sweeping his shoulders to where he wore it in a bun most times, a jaw that could cut glass. He was hot and he knew it, as did everyone else on campus.

As juniors you had both been on the executive boards of your respective Greek organizations and had ended up in meetings together about housing violations and social calendars, but it hadn’t ever led to much more than you both complaining about how fucking annoying FIJI and their insistent requests for a house was, considering they’d trashed their last one. But this year, you’d found his eyes on you multiple times, and you wondered if perhaps your time had arrived. You’d both always danced around each other and you were curious after all these years if he was finally interested in hooking up. Not that you really expected much more, or were looking for much else—you were a senior, after all, and you were enjoying it.

“Y/N.” Alexis’s voice ripped you from your musings over Harry, her fingers snapping from her spot on your bed. “What’s got you thinking hard over there?”

“Harry?” Emily guessed, one eyebrow raising. “Emmett said he’ll be there tonight.”

“He’s always there,” you replied, because he was. Like you, he seemed to enjoy the mixers, but usually avoided the open parties unless he was on door duty.

“You’d hook up with him, right?”

You looked at Alexis. “Obviously. He’s so fucking hot.”

She laughed, as did Emily. “Then go for it, girl. It’s not like he’ll say no.”

You shrugged. “He might. Never know.”

“I seriously doubt that. You look hot as fuck, as usual, and are the life of the party. Beta adores you. They literally asked you to move in this year when they had an open spot.”

“It was a joke,” you reminded them, because it was—you wouldn’t ever be allowed to live in the house and they knew that. It was true though, you had become a bit of a groupie over the past few years, preferring the more laid back vibe in their house. You’d become friends with all the senior guys, except the weird or obnoxious ones, and had become a regular invite to Bachelor Monday watch parties in their second floor living room. You brought snacks and your friends, they provided the booze and the cable.

“Still,” Emily said, nudging you the toe of her black booties. “Don’t sell yourself short, babes. He is missing a brain if he’s not interested in you.”

“And seriously missing out,” Alexis added. You shot her a look, but she just chuckled. “Bitch, I lived next door to you last year. You are loud.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, laughing, but she was right. You were. Guys had told you on countless occasions, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care all that much. “Come on, we should go. Maya is texting me asking when we’re leaving.”

“Do you have your cigs?” Alexis asks you, downing the rest of the drink she’d made while you had been staring into space.

It was your vice, one you had picked up during a semester abroad and only did when you were drunk. You knew you should stop, but something about it made you feel powerful, a bit badass, so you kept doing it. “Obviously. Emmett will have a fit if I don’t.” You swiped your pack from your desk drawer and your trusty pale blue lighter, and shoved them into the pocket of your jacket. With one last swig of your drink, your veins buzzing with alcohol just the right amount, the three of you were off, singing an old Hannah Montana song in the elevator down to the lobby of your dorm.

One of the pledges was working the door, but happily let you three into the frat house. The lights on the main floor were off, except for the ones in the front study that doubled as a coat room, where you tied the arms of your jackets together and set them in the corner so you didn’t lose them. Your cigs were transferred to your back pocket, and you just prayed you didn’t forget they were there and crush them again.

Josephine and another junior were the sober sisters, and offered you three hugs before checking your names off the list. You got positive points for being there, as if that was the main reason you had shown up.

“Emmett!” Emily called, and the blond-headed boy’s head flipped up from where he was standing behind the bar. A Gatorade water cooler was sitting on the high bar, stacks of red solo cups and boxes of white claws and beers sitting on top of one another.

Aka, your happy place. “He’s bartending, thank god,” you said, and grabbed Emily and Alexis, weaving through the crowd. Girls stopped you all as you moved, hugs and squeals at your appearance. You had to admit, you were popular in your sorority, but mainly because you had made it your mission to get your money worth. As a result of your exec position, you’d gotten to know the sophomore member class and you adored them all, chaotic messes who always turned up with you and made you laugh hysterically. Honestly, you were sad to graduate because it meant leaving behind so many fun friends and memories.

“We’ve been waiting for you three,” Emmett said when you arrived in front of him. He was wearing the frat’s homecoming shirt from the previous year and his eyes were dilated, obvious that he had smoked before. “What are we drinking?”

“What’s the mix?” You asked, pointing to the cooler.

He grabbed three cups, knowing you would be taking it. “Shit ton of vodka, Kool Aid, water, the usual.”

“My favorite,” you replied, blowing him a kiss. “How is it downstairs?”

He filled the cups and handed them to you all. “They just wrapped up pong so it’s still getting moving.”

Alexis took a long sip before grabbing your hand. “Sounds like we need to get people dancing.” With that she turned around, her long slick black hair moving in a circle. “Let’s dance!” She called, and the girls around you cheered, following the three of you down the slippery steps to the basement.

Downstairs, The Motto was playing and you bobbed your head along with the beat, moving your hips as you entered the large basement space. It was dark except for a glowing sign with the Beta letters in narrow neon lights, casting the room with a tint of green. Your battered frat shoes, an old pair of white Vans, stuck against the beer and jungle juice-covered floor as you made your way to the middle. A couple of other girls and brothers were scattered around the floor, and you broke from Emily and Alexis’s hands as you twirled on the floor.

You raised your cup above your head and started dancing, rapping the lyrics by heart, moving your hands and hips along with the song. Emily and Alexis sang along with you and some of the younger girls showed up, then some other seniors who shared your love for frat parties. All of a sudden your little was screaming and running towards you, Mallory’s arms wrapping around your waist.

“Oh my fuck god, MOM,” she screamed, using the nickname she’d had for you since you’d taken her as your little two years ago. You laughed and threw your arm around her shoulders, screaming the lyrics. There was a specific reason you had taken Mallory as your little, and it was because she lost her shit at parties just as much as you did. You two were a dynamic duo like no other, and if your grand little didn’t have a huge exam on Monday, she’d be here too and you would all be dancing together as usual.

You downed your jungle juice, the sugary drink combined with the loud music blasting and your friends making your adrenaline kick into high gear. And then Maya appeared, arms waving like crazy, and then she dropped it low and you remembered why you adored her, even if she always stole Emily’s Juul. She had a beer in one hand and a white claw in the other, ready for the night ahead.

Then Emmett appeared, trailed by some of the other brothers in tank tops and t-shirts, one carrying a six pack on his shoulder and handing out warm beers to the brothers he passed. Emmett beelined for Emily, his arm thrown around her shoulder, their completely platonic friendship on show for everyone. The song ended and you took a breath, crushing your cup and tossing it into the corner so you could have your hands free. Emily pulled her Juul free and took a hit, passing it to Maya next without a question between them.

The opening notes of Come Get Her started and you immediately grabbed Alexis and Emily, beelining for the bar that the speakers rested on, something you weren’t even sure how it got there, but it was your favorite elevated surface of all time. Wide enough to dance, tall enough to be high but not too high where you couldn’t mostly stand. You clamored up, coming to nearly full height and turning to your friends.

“Somebody come get her, she’s dancing like a stripper!” You screamed, your friends coming in a circle in front of the three of you, some other girls getting up on the bar. When the line came through again, you decided fuck it, and you dropped your ass low, bending your knees and tipping your head back.

When you danced, you didn’t give a single fuck about impressing guys or any of that. You just simply loved to dance with your friends, move your hips, and didn’t care what you looked like. Mallory screamed when you got low, your name falling from her lips in a squeal of joy.

That had him moving. He joined a circle where Emmett and some other senior guys were dancing with some other girls, beers in hand as they shifted back and forth. But you knew what would have them all actually dancing and screaming and jumping along with you. You needed to see Harry like that—loose and free. So you turned around and grabbed the attention of the sophomore on aux, his name something along the lines of Justin, and screamed your song choice to him. He gave you a thumbs up, and then you turned back around. Your hair was sticking to the back of your neck, and you rolled it into a loose, high bun, pulling the elastic on your wrist around it as you swayed to the song.

You could hear the song ending, and with your eyes on Harry, you decided you would get down. He was next to a pledge with a six pack, and you wanted a beer. You were mixing alcohols like nobody’s business tonight, but you’d done worse. You squatted down and kicked your feet out, Mallory’s hand coming out to help you down. “You good?” She asked, leaning in to you.

“Yeah, just hot,” you replied. “Going to get a beer.” She nodded and let you go. There wasn’t a need to watch your friends as much in a normal party, since you knew all the girls here. Maya pulled you in for a hug as you moved, and then the current president called out your name from where she stood with her boyfriend, a white claw in her hand.

Squeezing next to Emmett, you nudged the waist of the pledge next to you. “Can I get one?” You asked, pointing to the beers.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling one from the case and handing it to you. It was a Natty Light, but you really could’ve given fewer fucks—they were a frat after all, they didn’t buy the good stuff.

You popped the tab and took a long swig, the liquid quelling your rough throat from singing. And then, the song changed, and you smiled, eyes meeting Harry’s. You decided you were going to draw him out. “I got hoes, callin’!” You screamed, the song starting the speakers, and the boys all joined in. Fuck it, you thought, and chugged the rest of your beer so that you could jump, your arms outstretched and pumping up and down. Your bun was bouncing on your head and you were grinning, the music flowing through you.

Harry was watching you, his head tapping, hair swishing back and forth. You needed more. So you moved into the center of the circle, knowing the guys would hype you up, and reached for him. “Why aren’t you dancing?” You asked him playfully, and his eyebrow shot up.

“Fuck! Shit! Bitch!” The best lines of the song ran through the speaker and you just grabbed his hand, which was warm, and pulled on him. Suddenly his body was in front of you, close, and you tried to process what your original plan was. But then, Harry started moving, back and forth, head bopping, rapping the lyrics in time, and you knew you had gotten him. “I be ballin’, like a motherfuckin’ pro,” you sang, starting up to jump, and to your surprise, Harry joined you, a carefree expression finally crossing his face. He was screaming the lyrics then, hair bouncing as he moved. He rotated, grabbing the shoulders of another one of the boys, who joined in with him, them screaming the lyrics at each other.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the change in his demeanor so sudden. When the song changed, T-Shirt by Migos coming on, he turned back to you. All of a sudden, his lips were next to your ear and you choked on air. “Fuckin’ love that song,” he said, accent smooth in your ear.

“You and every other frat boy,” you replied, stepping backwards. You had ended up at the side of the circle closer to the wall, and so you moved towards it, freeing yourself from the heavy circle of boys.

The song was slower, not a jumping and dancing song, but one that suggested the slow grinding of hips and closeness of bodies. Which fuck it, you wanted. Desperately. He was looking at you with an intense stare, smile sloppy from alcohol, Harry sweaty on his forehead, arms straining under the fabric of his shirt. He was following you, taking a step away from his friends and following your body as if magnetic. So you just went for it, putting your weight lower, and rolled your hips back and forth to the music.

Mama told me/not to sell work/Seventeen five/same color T-shirt

Your eyes met his, and the shared intensity of his gaze stirred something inside of you. Desire. A need to know what his skin felt like, a desire that had been lingering since you first saw him. Your hands moved on their own, draping over his shoulders, and his hands found the curve of your waist, and suddenly you knew what his skin felt like on yours. They found the bare skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans, burning your already warm skin.

Justin-something on aux changed the song, deciding that was enough, and then No Role Modelz was on, and you moved, swaying back and forth, your chests coming closer and closer. His face was inches from yours and you wondered what his lips would taste like. The slow rap and smooth feel of the beat had your eyes fluttering shut, mind twirling from the alcohol and the lowlights, the heat of the packed basement. If you didn’t have Harry under your hands, you might have left for a smoke break, an excuse for air. But you weren’t letting go of him anytime soon. So you turned around and when your ass touched his dick you couldn’t help but smile—he was already hard. You felt his arm move and watched him sip his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. You rolled your hips against him and then reached up, grabbing the can and bringing it to your own lips, taking a sip and watching him watch you. The two of you were taunting each other, acting on a feeling that had always been an undercurrent in every one of your interactions, a slight sexual tension that if you pulled on would become taught.

Which as you pressed against him, you fucking yanked on. His free hand clasped around your hip, holding you close and swaying in time with you. You could feel the sweat that had soaked through his t-shirt a bit, but you didn’t care—you were sweaty yourself, so was everyone in the room. It was part of the appeal, the fact that everyone was a mess and no one cared. He was rock hard between the denim of both of your jeans, and you could feel the power racing through you, the fact that you had him like this going straight to your head.

When Mr. Brightside came on, you decided that was your smoke break time. You couldn’t stand the song after so many years, and the feeling of bodies pressing together as they jumped was too much for you. “I’m going to get some air,” you said, turning around so you could face Harry.

He was so close to you, just inches away, when his tongue licked over his lip. “Can I come with?”

“Sure.” You grabbed his hand as you moved through the crowd, pushing between frat brothers and your sorority sisters who were all dancing together to the song. When you made it through the exit you sighed, the stale air of the stairwell even feeling better than that room.

“Fuck it was hot in there,” Harry said, your hand dropping from his. He followed you up the stairs and you nodded. You pushed open the door and a Doja Cat song was playing, some people upstairs scattered around, drinking and talking, some sitting on couches together. You waved to Maya, who seemed to have also needed a break, and nodded to the door as if to tell her you were getting some air.

“I’m going to smoke if that’s okay,” you told him as you made your way to the door, pulling your cigs and lighter from your back pocket.

He nodded. “Can I bum one?”

You opened the heavy oak door and said hello to the handful of guys sitting on the steps, who were manning the door and making sure no one random got in. “Sure,” you responded to Harry finally, sitting down on the concrete half wall that lined the landing. You could hear the slight thump of the music, but for the most part it was quiet, the the frat house a couple yards away not throwing anything tonight.

Harry leaned against the wall close to you, taking your offered cigarette. You flicked the lighter and raised it to your cigarette, taking a drag when it lit. Then you handed it to Harry, who accepted it gladly, doing the same. The smoke filled your lungs and your drunken mind considered that you should quit, but at the same time, you liked having something to do when you got air, an excuse to be on the steps. One of the other guys asked for one, and you handed one over, making a new friend.

And then you looked back to Harry. “So,” you said, tapping the ash on your cig. “How have you been?”

You hadn’t seen him since your last mixer with Beta, but you two hadn’t talked in ages. “Good,” he replied. “Busy with classes and stuff.”

“What are you studying again?”

“Political science,” he answered, and your eyebrows shot up. You had expected business or economics, like most of the Beta brothers.

“Why poli sci?”

He shrugged, tapping the ash before taking another drag. “Dunno, really. Took a class freshman year and liked it enough.”

“You don’t want to work in politics or something?”

“I don’t really know what I want to do, honestly.”

“You make it sound like that’s unusual,” you tell him. “Most people don’t.”

He chuckles, a low sound from the back of his throat, and you like the sound of it. “I’ll tell my dad that next time we talk.” You could tell there was a story there, but didn’t push. It wasn’t that kind of moment. “What about you?”

“Psych and pre-law,” you reply, the answer rolling off your tongue with ease.

“Oh? What kind of law?”

You took another drag before answering. “Criminal defense, but I want to work with people on death row.”

His eyes widen, just as you expected. It’s the usual response from people. “Fuck, that’s awesome. What made you interested in it?”

“I just got really into true crime when I was in middle school and ended up doing research on the criminal justice system and what a fucking disaster it is. Death sentences and death row especially. So I want to overturn false convictions.”

He puffed a cloud of smoke, and you watched his lips form a circle, a dark pink color that drew you in. “And you said most people don’t know what they want to do.”

A breeze made the hair on your arm hair stand up, and you rubbed the skin to warm up. It was cold tonight. “I’m unusual,” you told him. “Most of my friends have no idea what they’re doing after graduation.”

You had reached the end of your cigarette, so you dropped it to the ground and stamped it out, the combination of the nicotine and alcohol making your head deliciously hazy. “I’m going back in.”

Harry dropped his cigarette too, putting out the bud. “Lead the way.” He swiped his ID card on the door to let you both in, and you held the door for him, the sound of Post Malone sweeping through the house. “Want another drink?”

You mentally considered how drunk you were, came to the conclusion that you could take some more, and nodded. “White claw, please.” If you laid off the jungle juice you would last a bit longer, and you weren’t particularly wanting to get wasted tonight—you wanted to see where this went.

Harry nodded and walked towards the bar, while you turned to the group of girls closest to you, who were drinking juice and chattering amongst themselves. They immediately started asking you about Harry, about what was happening, and you shrugged because you truly didn’t know. “He’s hot,” one of them, a sophomore named Cat said. “You going to go for it?”

“If the opportunity presents itself,” you replied. You weren’t going to push with Harry, the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of him. You’d follow his lead, see what he was interested in, matching his flirting and see where it went. Not to say you weren’t forward, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. “What about you guys?”

Cat launched into an in-depth analysis of the weird flirtation she’d been having with a junior guy in Beta, how they’d hooked up once but not again, but he kept looking at her. You encouraged her to go for it if she wanted, and she grinned, perhaps just needing an extra push. All of a sudden, you felt a hand on your back, and Harry was next to you, a Black Cherry white claw in one hand, a Heineken in the other.

“If I’d know there were Heinekens I would’ve had that,” you told him, accepting your white claw.

His hair fell behind his shoulders when he tipped the beer back. “Most girls don’t like beer.”

“Well you’ve met one now.” You liked messing with him, dropping flirtations into the conversation and pushing buttons. It made him smirk at you and you loved it, the twinkle in his eyes and the pinkness of his lips.

“H.” A guy appeared behind Harry. “We’re out of vodka.”

“How are we out?” He asked, taking another sip of his beer.

The guy, a pledge from the looks of him, grimaced. “Someone took one of the bottles.”

“Fuck,” Harry said with a sigh. “Have one of the other pledges go get more and keep the receipt. Get more claws while you’re out, we’re running low.” With that, he turned back to you, exhaling sharply. The boy disappeared, sensing that was his cue.

Right as you were about to speak, you heard the opening notes of I Love It from downstairs, and you turned to the girls around you. “Downstairs,” you told them, and they all tossed back the rest of their drinks before tossing them into the trash can a few paces away. You opened the door to the basement and then looked back to Harry. “Coming?”

That made him move, following you down into the dark stairwell that smelled of stale beer and sweat. He stayed close to you, and when your foot slipped on a stair he reached out to steady you, a hand to your side that made your body warm with more than just the temperature of the room. The girls in front of you streamed into the room, screaming the lyrics to the song.

“You’re such a fucking hoe/I love it!” You joined in, laughing at the lyrics in spite of yourself, but the truth is you fucking loved the song. It was absurd and was filthy, but you liked screaming the lyrics in a room with a bunch of your friends.

You twirled around and walked into the room backward, moving your body with the beat, taunting Harry to follow you. Which he did, as if connected to you by a magnet. You could see his lips moving, the lyrics falling from his lips to match you. You stopped moving in the middle of the room and Harry’s hands found your hips. Turning in his hands, a coy smile on your face, you knew what this song was going to involve. Hips moved on their own accord, grinding hard against him. You could feel his breath on your neck, the lyrics I’m a sick fuck/I like a quick fuck/I like my dick sucked/I’ll buy you a sick truck in your ear. Hearing the words on his lips for some reason had your blood pumping, and you wanted to hear them again on a loop.

His dick was hard against your ass and your hands stretched behind you, finding his hips to hold him close. His head fell to your neck, nosing at your skin, his fingers on the bare skin at your waist clenching. Your hips moved in time with each other, his body dropping to be at the height as yours, chasing the desire that was running between you. Your head tipped back against his chest and eyes fluttered shut, letting the alcohol in your veins and the music pounding in your ears take over. All you could feel was him, the cut of his body and the strength of his arms next to you, his hips insistently rubbing against yours and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually grind on him.

The song changed, Work Out by J. Cole sounding through the speakers and you pulled away from him and turned to face him. You were going to put on a bit of a show, you decided, because why the fuck not. It was clear at this point that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, so why pretend like anything else was happening?

So when the lyrics Let me see you get/High then go low/Now, girl won't you drop that thing down to the floor? fell through the speakers you dropped to the ground, Harry’s eyes following you came back up slowly, your body just inches from his. His hands fell on your body, grabbing at your waist to keep you close, pressing his hips forward to grind right over the front of your jeans and you panted from both the heat in the room and the pleasure ripping through your body. When the chorus came again, you dropped down, and this time you ran your hands down his legs lightly as you moved, fingers dancing down and then back up the seams of his jeans.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said and you could barely hear him over the music.

His eyes met yours, searing into yours, a question passing between you. And then you were moving towards each other, an answer to the question in the way your lips met, slotted together and pulled at one another. Your hands were pulling at his shirt, grabbing at the material and the skin underneath, one of his hand holding your head close to his, the other at your waist. It was fast and messy, your lip pulling on his bottom one, before chasing him, his tongue brushing at the seam of your lips before dipping inside.

Kissing Harry was hot. It was like setting your whole body on fire with desire and you just wanted to know what the rest of him felt like because his lips were sending you to another planet. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth and a moan escaped you, desperation clear in your throat. You could feel bodies press around you, the notes of Fire by Louis the Child ringing through the room. When the beat dropped, you knew people were jumping, the guys doing that thing where they slammed into each other like some kind of mosh. But Harry just stayed there, pulling his lips into yours, drawing wet pants from your body. He was holding tight to you as if you were going to slip away, even though that was the last place you wanted to go.

But you decided you wanted to tease him a bit more. Not let him get away, but just…push him a bit. So you drew away, enough to where you could dance, your sorority sisters at your back—you had seen Alexis move behind you. You grinding on her, your asses touching, and you could hear her laughter, before moving against you. It was something you two always did, dancing partners since the moment you met.

“If I go down in flames/The smoke going to spell my name,” you sang.

Harry watched you, his eyes burning a line down your body, the ministrations of your hips against Alexis’s. And then he was moving towards you, his front pressed yours and his lips were at your ear. “Drink?”

You nodded, and let him pull you through the crowd and towards the stairs. People were moving down them and you pressed yourself to the wall to let them pass, before following Harry up the stairs to the main floor. “Is there anything better than that shit?” You asked him when you stood next to him, his arm loosely around your waist, holding you to him.

His gaze drifted to the bar and then back to you. “I’ve got some stuff in my room.”

You knew he lived in the house, the result of being on exec last year and having first dibs after the current exec board was placed, the hierarchy the same as in your own sorority house. “Do you have mixers?” As much as you drank, you still hated drinking most straight alcohol, especially if you were going to be sipping on it. When he nodded, you replied, “Let’s go.”

You caught the eye of Emily who was standing on the other side of the room, watching you, and you pointed upstairs to tell her where you were going. After she gave you a thumbs up, letting you know she’d check in before leaving, a silent conversation well rehearsed over the years, you followed Harry up the stairs. Other guys and girls streamed down them, coming from rooms where they were smoking or using the bathroom or drinking just like you.

“What floor are you on?” You asked when you passed the first floor, twisting to go up the second flight.

“Third,” he replied, not pausing no the stairs. “It’s quieter.”

That made sense, as you could imagine if he didn’t feel like partying one night it would be kind of hard to avoid. You followed him up, the sound of the music fading as you made your way higher into the frat house. You passed other girls on the way you exchanged hugs and promises to catch up after chapter on Monday night. Finally, you made it to the third floor, and Harry pushed open the door to a room with his name on it.

You followed him in and the first thing you noticed was how much of a boy’s room it was. Messy comforter, clothes on the floor, alcohol bottles lining the window sill, the frat’s flag above his bed. Some posters and photos littered the opposite wall, a single framed photo of what looked like his family on his dresser, along with some random items like cologne and a brush and hair ties. A pair of athletic shoes and boots were shoved into one corner, and a tub of protein powder sat on top of his mini-fridge, along with a stack of solo cups. On his desk was a bong and a couple of lighters, his computer sitting next to it on a charger. The dorm room was narrow, most of it taken up with a double bed that you were a bit confused by, since most rooms just had a single.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” he said, shutting the door behind you. If you focused on it, you could hear nerves in his voice, a low laugh in the back of his throat as he surveyed his room. “Didn’t expect to have people up here.”

“It’s fine,” you told him, moving into the middle of the room to get out of the doorway, taking in the space.

“Uh, I’ve got Tito’s, Jack, some gin one of the guys got me.”

It drew you back to the whole reason you were in his room. He was standing next to his mini-fridge, a solo cup in his hand as he looked at you. “What mixers do you have?”

“Coke, juice, and tonic,” he replied. “Sorry, it’s not much.”

You shook your head. “Tito’s and tonic,” you told him. Usually you would’ve been all over the Jack and coke option, but considering how much you’d already drank the last thing you needed was to mix clear and dark liquors.

You watched him pour, leaning against his desk as you waited. He handed you the cup, asking you to try it and tell him if it was too strong. You took a sip and it was strong, but not too much. Then, he made a whiskey and coke you were jealous of, and the two of you stood in his room, not quite sure what to do. You didn’t want to go back down the party, the feeling of fresh air—even though it smelled vaguely like college boy, a mixture of sweat and cologne that you keenly recognized—feeling good on your skin.

“Want to listen to some music?” He asked, moving towards you. There was a bluetooth speaker on his desk, you realized, and shifted away so he could get at his computer.

You decided to sit on the bed, thighs resting on the soft comforter. “Sure.” You pulled your cigarettes and lighter from your back pocket, before looking back at him.

He fiddled with the speaker, the sound of it connecting ricocheting in the small room, before clicking keys to wake up his computer. “Any preferences?”

“I’m good with whatever,” you replied. “I like pretty much everything.” It was true, you had everything from country to Top 40s and rap on your Spotify, a variety of playlists to fit the mood.

He pulled on his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as he perused his Spotify and you tried not to focus on the sight. Low music began to sound in the room and you immediately recognized the beginning notes of Let Her Go by 6LACK, a smile drifting onto your face. He must have noticed, because he turned around, his cup in his hand. “You like 6LACK?”

“More like obsessed,” you replied and he chuckled.

He sat on the edge of the desk, his knees falling open, his back slumped a bit. “I don’t know a single girl who even knows who he is.”

You took a sip of your drink before replying, resting your body back on one hand. “They must not have good music taste, then.”

Harry gave you a small smile, an edge of playfulness to it. “Where’s home for you?”

“Denver,” you responded. “You?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

“Where’s that?”

He brushed a hand through his hair, the long locks slipping between his fingers and you couldn’t help but wish you were the one doing it. “South of Manchester. It’s a small town, lots of fields and shit like that.”

You’d never been to England so you had no idea of where Manchester was, but you didn’t ask. “Do you like it?”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t want to like, move back or anything. But it’s a good place to go home to.”

Denver felt the same way to you—it was home, but it wasn’t a place you saw a future in. You’d go where law school took you, and then the work, wherever you could make the biggest impact. “Where do you want to go?”

The solo cup hung in his hands, and he twirled it a bit, the rim of the cup pressed between his fingers. “LA, maybe. New York. Not sure, really. London, most likely, unless I can get a job and someone to sponsor my Visa so I can stay.”

“Do you like the states?” You knew you were asking a lot of questions, but you’d never had a conversation like this with him and you were curious. Curious about him, about who he was, underneath all the frat shit that he loved so much.

“It’s different than home,” he replied, and you understood what he meant. “I don’t think I’ll want to be here forever, but it’s good for right now. Got friends here now.”

You took another sip of your drink, and then pushed yourself up, the need to pee suddenly overtaking your body. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall. Make sure you slam on the door before locking it—it got fucked up during homecoming and hasn’t been the same ever since.”

You nodded and took your cup with you, four years of college ingraining some lessons into your bones. Down the hall, you found a blond wood door and a doorknob that was barely attached to the door. You pushed it open and shut it quickly, shoving against it with your shoulder so that you could flip the lock. Inside, you wondered for the millionth time why boys were in capable from having a properly stocked bathroom. Head & Shoulders shampoo littered the floor of the shower, a flimsy shower curtain that had come free from a couple of the rings. You squatted to pee, grabbing the toilet paper roll that sat on top of the toilet, no one even bothering to properly put it away.

As you peed, you scrolled through your phone. Mallory had texted saying she was going bar hopping with some of her friends and you told her to text you if she needed anything and a heart, before checking her on Find My Friends to see she was, in fact at a bar. Then you texted your group chat with Emily and Alexis and Maya, who had asked how you were doing. You told them you were with Harry and most likely going to be here for a while, which got excited responses and Alexis sent the eggplant emoji, which made you snort. They told you to text you if you ended up staying the night so they could keep track of where you were, which you agree to do.

When you went to wash your hands, you rolled your eyes because of course they couldn’t even buy hand soap. You went to the shower and found a bottle of body wash, and squirted some into your hands before going back to the sink, rinsing them off. Then you looked at your face in the mirror, eyeliner and mascara still in tact, but your hair was a disaster. You pulled the bun free and let your hair tumble down your back, running through it with your fingers to calm the strands that were askew.

Standing the mirror, you had the opportunity to consider your choices. Did you want to hook up with Harry? Yes. That was a clear answer, despite your alcohol-hazed mind. Did he want to? Most likely—every indication had pointed towards yes. So your mind was made up as you pulled the door open and made your way back to his room, your phone tucked into your jeans and solo cup in your hand.

“You guys really need soap.”

He was still sitting on the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone and sipping on his drink when you came into the room. At the sight of you, he put his phone down. “I know—it’s fucking disgusting. I have my own, though. Sorry for not sharing.”

You set your cup on his dresser, deciding you were done, and moved towards him. “It’s fine. I made do.” His eyes trailed down your front, the sexual tension thick in the room. When he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it, you decided fuck it you were done waiting.

You crossed the space between the two of you in second, slotting yourself between his knees. His hands found your waist immediately, his solo cup moving to rest on the table once your body was pressed to his. Without pausing, you pressed your lips to his, reconnecting them in a fire—you needed him, you wanted him, you craved his hands on your skin. Now that you were alone, it was like you couldn’t hold yourself together and neither could he. His hands moved up and down your back, tugging you into his chest as your hands curled in his long hair. Lips fought for dominance, teeth tugging and tongues pressing for more. When he licked into your mouth a wet moan left your lips and you pressed into the crotch of his pants without even meaning to.

6LACK was still flowing through the speaker, and the smooth RnB just adding to the desire rolling through your body. When his lips dropped to your neck, sucking and biting on your skin, a desperate, filthy noise fell from your mouth and you couldn’t help but smile when Harry grunted into you. “I—fuck,” he mumbled, squeezing at your hips.

Suddenly your clothes were too warm, burning against your skin. You leaned back and pulled at the hem of your tank top, pulling it up over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Harry’s eyes went wide, blown out irises from alcohol and desire criss-crossing over your body. “You can touch me,” you said, confidence coursing through your veins and just desperate for him to do something.

He didn’t hesitate, pulling you back into him and attaching his mouth to the swell of your breast, right above the lace of your bra. Hot breath on your skin had you keening into him, back arching up into his mouth, your fingers tugging into his hair. You loved his hair, having something to hold onto and anchor yourself, and from the pleased hums he liked it too. His hands fumbled with your bra clasp, and when he got it free and pulled the material away, he pulled your nipple into his mouth and you audibly sighed. When he sucked on it, then laved over it with his tongue you couldn’t help but buck into him. You were putty in his arms and he had barely done anything.

Your hands pulled at his shirt, the desire to see his skin overwhelming you. He didn’t make you wait, helping you tug it over his head, and let it drop to the floor. Black ink scattered across his skin, words and images that made a million questions swirl in your mind. The G on his shoulder, the ship on his bicep, the name Jackson scrawled above a rose, the swallows across his collarbones and a butterfly on his stomach. He sat there, chest heaving as he caught his breath and your fingers brushed his skin, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Y/N,” he rasped, “bed?”

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with ease, and he was backing you into it immediately, hands in your hair and lips on yours. Your bare chests touching sent you into overdrive, the brush of your nipples on his warm skin, a sheen of sweat covering both of you from dancing all night.

The comforter was plush underneath your back as you scrambled up the length of his bed, his body following yours immediately. Your legs fell apart so he could fit between you, and when he did, his dick rested right against your clothed clit and it made you gasp. “Feel good?” He mumbled, the words a haze in your ears as he plucked your lips between his.

All you could do was buck up, your knees finding either side of him. You wanted to be on top, to be in control. You wanted to grind on him properly, after waiting for so long. With a hand at his chest, you pushed slightly, enough for him to move back. He must have understood what you wanted because he flopped onto the bed next to you, one hand on either of your thighs and you mounted him, your ass sitting on the top of his thighs.

When you moved your center over his dick, both of you groaned, deep and drawn out, your head thrown back in pleasure. It was bliss, after so much waiting, to finally be able to do this, his hands crawling from your thighs to your hips to hold you in place, exactly where he wanted you. You put your hands on his chest to hold yourself up, and let your hips find a sinful rhythm, one that was making pleasure curl in your stomach. Pants left your mouth, matched by Harry, who was watching you as if you were a fucking art exhibit, eyes trying to take in every inch of you. Fingernails curled into his skin, red marks that you expected to be there tomorrow, when he nudged at your clit, and you rubbed that spot a few more times, his name falling from your lips in a beg. “Harry.”

That had him moving, pulling your lips down to his so he could kiss you again, his fingers cradling the back of your head. It was just rough enough where you were scrambling to catch up and it felt good, that this was consuming every part of your brain. You rolled your hips again, your hands pressing into the pillow under his head. Then, you felt his thighs agains your ass, and he was pushing up into you, making him snugly flush against you, the only thing between you two being your clothes.

Which you wanted off, and wanted off now. You moved back, crawling between his legs, and his eyes followed you, panting as he watched you pop the button on his pants. He lifted his hips to help you and you tugged the tight skinny jeans that showed every inch of his thickness underneath them down his legs. Then, you pulled on his briefs, and he was bare in front of you, exactly as you wanted him. Your jeans were constricting your movement so you turned tot he side, pulling the denim off of your body so you were left in your underwear.

Then you were on him again, but this time, it was your hand on his dick, fingers running up the length of him.

“Fuck,” he said, voice husky in your ears. He was gorgeous underneath you, desperation making his eyebrows crease, his long hair a mess on the pillow. Why had you waited so long to act on this desire? You suddenly couldn’t remember.

He watched you spit onto his most sensitive part, and then slide your hand over him, spreading the moisture. He hissed at the feeling and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long here—he was already hard, his tip red and throbbing. The fact that you had him this turned on and you’d barely done anything made your ego soar, to be honest. You pumped him three times before licking up the underside of him, his hands curling in the comforter, a stream of curses falling from his lips.

When you took him into your mouth, a low, rough grunt filled the room and you smiled. You hollowed your cheeks and immediately took him all the way into your mouth, resisting the urge to gag when he hit the back of your throat. “Shit,” he rasped. “You—shit.”

You’d done what you were about to give him just a handful of times before, only with people who you knew you would feel pleasure from too when they did it, and trusted. And Harry fit both of those categories, because he could fucking smile and you’d want to fuck him. So you grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of your head, before taking him all the way to the back of your throat. Your mouth was full of him and it felt so good.

“Want me to fuck your mouth?” His eyes were glimmering in the light, completely focused on you. You were happy you had left the lights on, because it meant you could every inch of him, every reaction you drew from him.

In response, you licked at his tip, hoping he knew that meant yes.

He seemed to, because he curled his fingers into your hair and pushed his hips up, his tip hitting your throat immediately. You groaned around his dick and he cursed at the vibrations. Then, he kept his hips on the bed and instead pulled you up and down him, fucking your mouth just as you had wanted. You couldn’t do much from this position, so you focused on inhaling through your nose and running your hands over his skin, scratching at the butterfly on his torso. Leaving reminders of this night, of you, on his body.

“Shit,” he mumbled, pulling you off. “I—I have to stop. But, shit, you feel so good, babe.”

The pet name made you smile, sitting back on your heels to wipe at your mouth, the taste of his salty precum still on your tongue. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, because all that you had done had left you more than ready—you needed him inside of you.

Harry’s eyes went wide and he scrambled up. “Fuck,” he exhaled, grabbing at his desk drawer and pulling it open. Watching him look through his drawers completely naked was, you had to admit, a bit amusing, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. He wrenched another drawer open, tossing the contents about as he looked. Then he sighed, and looked back at you. “I’m out.”

“Go find one,” you told him, leaning back against the wall, letting your knees drop open to show your underwear. You could feel the wet spot on them and you knew he saw it too. “I’ll wait here.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll—yeah I’ll find one.” He pulled on his jeans, not even bothering with his briefs, eyes flickering to you every once and a while. “Shit, I’ll—I’ll be back.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, pushing open his door and letting it slam shut behind him. Through the door you could hear him knocking on the door next to his, some muffled words, and then him knocking again. He was going fucking door to door looking for a condom, you realized with amusement. Then, the patter of feet on the stairs, and you knew he was going downstairs, that no one else was in their rooms.

While you waited, you grabbed your phone and scrolled through it. Caught up on texts, liked shit on Instagram, checked Snapchat even though you barely used the app. Most people were at bars, as far as you could tell, but it looked like they’d set back up pong downstairs according to Emily’s story.

All of a sudden, feet pounded on the stairs and you knew it was Harry. You pushed your phone back onto the desk, and when the door opened, he was standing there holding probably ten condoms. “How many did you get?”

He looked down at the wad in his hand and visibly blushed. “I—I thought I’d re-stock.”

You let it slide, even though you knew exactly why he got so many. He was hoping you’d have a couple rounds, and you were not opposed to the idea. “Come here,” you said, and let your legs fall back open.

He was on you in second, his pants kicked down his legs as he moved and you were surprised he didn’t trip. Hands found your skin and he pushed you up the bed, this time he was the one hovering over you, lips drawing eager mewls from you. You pressed your hips into his unclothed erection and he cursed, a grimace crossing his face that you knew was from him restraining himself. “Can I take these off?” He asked, fingers pulling at your underwear.

“Please,” you replied and that made him smile at you. He peeled them down your legs, tossing them to the ground, a forgotten memory. Then he brushed a finger over your slit and you gasped, cool touch sending waves of pleasure through you. “Need you.” The two words made his head snap up from where he was looking at your pussy, eyes connecting with yours.

“I was going to go down on you,” he said, and although the thought was tantalizing, you needed him inside of you.

You shook your head. “Later.”

Harry wasn’t complaining. He grabbed one of the condoms from his desk and ripped it open, rolling it down his dick with a concentrated gaze. Then, he crawled up your body, reconnecting your lips, and you both sighed at the feeling of his dick rolling against your center. “Okay?” He asked, pulling away just a hair to check in.

“Please,” you begged, and that had him moving immediately.

He tugged one of your legs around his waist, and then he gripped his dick, brushing his tip to your slit once, twice, three times. On the third time, though, he pressed in, and your wetness accepted him immediately, allowing him to push in about halfway before he stopped.

It burned a bit—mainly just from his size, which was bigger than most other guys you’d been with. You hands scrambled across his chest, grabbing at his skin, struggling to get your breathing under control. “You’re big,” you said, unable to stop the words that fell from your lips.

A cocky smile drifted over his face and you mentally kicked yourself for adding to his ego. “Can I move?” He asked though and you nodded. His head bobbed down, and you realized he was watching where you two were connected as he pulled back and then pushed in all the way. A choked moan left your mouth and a similar one sounded from Harry’s, although his had a string of curses attached. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he rasped, hands adjusting so they were next to your head, his face above yours. “Fuck.”

You were about to tell him to move when he did it on his own accord, pulling out and back into you, the impact making your body shift on the comforter. There was a very real possibility of you having sore legs tomorrow, but you really didn’t give a fuck because he felt so good. “Holy shit,” you babbled, those words the only ones you could find as he thrusted in and out of you, finding a rhythm that made you both pant with pleasure.

Sounds drifted out of you without you even realizing, something that always happened when you had drunk sex. You couldn’t control yourself as much, unable to process how loud you were being, what you were saying. Looking back you couldn’t even remember exactly what you had said, but you knew it was a mess of curses and his name and God and just pants and mewls that were feeding Harry like a fucking three course meal.

He loved your sounds, used them to figure out what you liked, where to move and shift. You could tell because when you’d let out a sharp gasp he’d say, “Yeah, there? That’s the spot?” and drive in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly with every move of his hips. Your hands were clutching at his hair as he thrusted into you, your ankles hooked around his lower back, and your body was desperate for release.

But you could also tell he was not going to last. His eyes were heavy, eyelids drawing shut with pleasure, fingers curling in the pillow next to you. Shoulders tensing and abdomen tight as he swiveled his hips, a broken moan falling between you. “Close,” he finally said, and dropped down to his elbows, so his face hovered above yours, only a hair away. “You feel so good, shit, oh my god—how do you feel so good?” His words were broken and that made them even better, that he had no control over what he was saying.

“Want you to come,” you babbled, “want to feel it, come on Harry, come for me, please, I need it.”

“Holy fuck—“ that had him snapping into you, hips slapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin overpowering the music that still played in the background. You gripped his shoulders when his head hung in the crook of your shoulder, and you knew he was about to come.

So you said one more thing. “I need you to come, Harry, please.” The words came out as a beg, exactly as you intended. His hips were stuttering immediately, curses falling between you like a broken record, repeating over and over again as he shot into the condom. He smattered kisses on your shoulder as he collapsed into you, sweat sticking to your skin.

He laid there for a second, panting, and you didn’t mind, even though you desperately needed to come. Perhaps it was how you clamped down on him, or you shifted your hips to feel slightly more of him, but Harry seemed to figure out what you needed. He lifted his head, took one look at you, and then pulled out, ripping off the condom and tossing it into his trash before crawling down your legs.

When his tongue licked your slit, you mewled his name, your hands moving into his hair immediately. You tugged and pulled on it as he licked over you, drawing circles that pulled desire from your flesh. And then he went inside, darting his deftly skilled tongue into you and practically thrusting it into you. His thumb brushed across your nub and you let our a shuddering moan, bucking up into his face. You were close—insanely close—the combination of his tongue inside of you and the thumb on your nub drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Harry,” you rasped, voice broken from panting. “I’m close.”

He seemed double his effort, tongue moving in and out of you at double time, his thumb brushing a brutal pace over you. You were twisting in his arms, hips bucking, curses leaving your lips. And when he pulled his thumb away and sucked on your clit, that’s when you came, in a mess of his name and broken gasps, choking on air. Your fingers curled tightly in his hair, anchoring his face to your center as you came, bucking up into him. He didn’t mind though, he just held your hips and took it, licking at you to draw out all of your aftershocks. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mind was a mess, swirling without the ability to grasp onto a single thread of thought, just a mess under his lips.

When you finally regained the ability to breathe, you pulled your hands from his hair and he sat up. You watched in awe as he licked his lips, gathering your juice, and swallowed them, a smile on his face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really good at that?”

He gave you a cocky expression and then flopped down next to you. “They have, in fact.”

“Good. I’d be concerned about the other girls if they hadn’t.”

He laughed, and then pulled you into his body. You were surprised at his desire to cuddle, but you weren’t mad. “You can stay if you want. There’s people downstairs still and it’s cold out.”

You propped your head up on his shoulder. “There’s also all those condoms.”

“That’s true. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”

You trailed your fingers up his torso. “Might have to just stay the whole weekend if we’re trying to use them all.”

His eyebrows quirked, but he wasn’t mad at the prospect. “Wanna be my study break for the weekend?”

You smirked, leaning up to quickly peck his lips. “As long as you’re mine.”

He hauled your body on top of his and curled his fingers into your hair. “We’ll get your shit in the morning, then.”

“It’s a deal.” You kissed him, lips slotting against one another, slower and less hurried than before, but that same undercurrent of desire stringing between you two. You were already grinding into him, hips brushing over his as you moved.

Suddenly, a pounding sound came from the door, and you froze. “Fuck off!” Harry called, pulling the comforter that had ended up at the bottom of the bed over the two of you.

“Fuck—sorry—I need a condom, man.” The words were muffled, but you heard them all the same.

Harry snorted, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go ask Nick,” he replied, “and leave me the fuck alone.” His hands grabbed at you, kneading into your ass, and you licked at his nipple.

It was going to be a long weekend.

SEND ME CONCEPTS ABOUT Y/N AND HARRY!

#frat boy harry #frat boy au #frat boy fan fiction #Harry Styles #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing

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i-am-infinite · 3 years

Text

Guilt (Part 1): The Rescue

(Din Djarin x ForceSensitive!Fem!Reader)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Slight Chpt 12 and 13 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

Description: Moff Gideon has found someone else to run his experiments on and word gets back to Din. Will he take his son far away and try and find somewhere safe? Or will the guilt of an innocent being put in his son’s place eat away at him? (No Y/N or ___ used)

Word Count: Slightly over 4K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and needles. Broken glass. Fainting. Blood loss. Canon type violence. Possible bad writing (first fic pls go easy on me). If I’m missing anything please let me know, I’ve never done one of these before.

A/N: This is my first fanfic I’ve written so it might be really bad but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head so here it is. I also made up a planet/system and don’t know if star wars has alarm clocks but i wrote it in anyway. I also wrote this in Word first and then realized I couldn’t copy it over so I tried my best to type it over in here.

Normal. That is what was used to describe your life. Nothing out of the ordinary. Life wasn’t boring per se, but it definitely wasn’t compelling enough for your tastes. Studying to be a healer help keep it somewhat interesting but not enough.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Crust littered eyes creak open as your face unsticks from the textbook scattered across the desk. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Your stiff neck cracks as you finally sit up. Fell asleep studying again. You loved learning about healing, you really did. But the long nights and barely sleeping was enough to make your head explode. Looking over at the clock with bright red numbers blinking at you. 8:15.

8:15! I’m late! You think as you force yourself awake. No not again! Being a student means you need to do hands on hours down at the nearest medcenter. All the late night studying also means that you oversleep most days. Grabbing your work bag filled with a change of clothes, in preparation of these events, you run out the door.

Your feet hit the wet cobble stones as it echos through your little part of the city. Vendors lining up the street ready to start their days. Passing the shop you went to yesterday, your mind too preoccupied to notice that it’s empty today. You know that theres is a faster route to the medcenter, but is it a path you really want to take today? Dark and windy path that you can barely see five feet in front of you on mornings like this. Too foggy and muggy for your liking. You’d rather stick to the main road where there’s people, where if anything were to happen, people would see, they would know. Regardless, it shaves fifteen minutes off your commute. You loathe having to be late for another shift. Making the sharp turn in between tow booths, you pace quickens to get through as quickly as you can. While not having much visibility, you swear you can see a pair of eyes in the dark. Has to just be my imagination, you convince yourself, I just need to keep going. It’ll be fine.

Footsteps echo behind you. Hands grab your shoulders. A scream rises in your throat, but no sound comes out. Everything goes dark when you feel something hit the side of your head.

Sigh. “Grogu get back in your seat.” The little baby waddles down off the controls and into his father’s lap. “Not what I meant,” Din grumbles with a smile hidden under his helmet. He grabs Grogu by his little robe and places him in the seat to his right and tells him to buckle up as a holo comes through from Greef Karga.

“Mando, we’ve just got word that Moff Gideon might have been seen in the Braic system. It looks like they found a substitute for the baby for the time being. I would use this time to go find a hide-out and lay low. He could still come back for the little one. Be well,”

Din goes to start the ship and find coordinates to stay out of trouble for a while when he hears the baby whine. Looking back at his adoptive child, all Din can see is Grogu, then a nameless kid, lying unconscious on a metal table, trapped underneath a contraption. Din starts breathing heavy and feeling sick that he ever gave his son up to those Imps. All he can hear is the beeping of the machine he’s hooked up to. Anger boiling back to the surface as he hears himself yell at the doctor all over again in his memories. No, he tells himself, He’s here with me. He’s fine. He’s safe. He shakes himself out of it and goes to fly the Razor Crest off planet.

Before he even gets off the planet, all Din can think about is that innocent person in his son’s place. They were going to kill Grogu, just for his blood for their experiments. Din can’t bring the kid anywhere near those people, he can’t risk losing his family, not when both of them have formed such attachments to each other. But he can’t stop thinking of this person who is in the that position now. He should’ve made sure Gideon was dead. Because of that now more people are going to get hurt.

Without thinking he turns on his holo already asking, “Where is he taking them?”

Feeling groggy with heavy eyes, you are able to open them just a bit to a blinding light. Reluctantly closing them again, you lift your arm to rub your eyes, but only they don’t move. What? The rest of your senses start coming back and you can feel the cool metal against your back, the same metal wrapped around your wrists and your ankles attached to the table. Finally bracing the light and opening your eyes, lifting your head slightly off the table and oh no the room is spinning now. There is an IV in your arm drawing your blood out into some odd machine, explaining the dizziness. Second time in two days you’ve had to deal with your own blood.

Walking through the shops on your one day off, you pick up a flower hair pin. The glasswork is so intricate and entrancing, you can’t help but turn it over and over in your hands. A pearl bead sitting in the center of iridescent gray and white petals. Placing it back in its place, your had scrapes against another glass design that is not yet finished, slashing open your palm. “Oh, dear let me help you with that,” the lady running the stand says. She looks you with her white hair barely covering her forehead. Tattoos liter her arms. A design peaks your interest as you swear you know but can’t quite place.

“It’s fine, I can take care of it myself,” you state already inspecting your hand. No shards in it so thats good.

“Oh no I insist. It happened at my booth, let me help clean it,” she declares taking your hand in her own. It feels like she squeezes the wound causing you to wince in pain slightly. Knowing she should just be cleaning it and wrapping it, you’re a little confused. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to tend to these sort of things, not wanted to embarrass her at her stand, you keep quiet. She finally gets a clean rag to help blot away at the blood on your hand. You didn’t think anything of it at the time, but it appears she has put it in a bag to the side.

“I don’t have any gauze to help wrap it up,” the stand lady says.

“Oh, don’t worry, I have plenty of my own,” you mention, “It will be fine until I make it back to my place.” Smiling you walk away. Without looking, you can feel her move the piece you cut your hand on into the bag. Must just be because it’s a dangerous piece, you think, not knowing there’s still some of your blood on it too.

Closing your eyes again, you try to wonder why that is so significant to you right now. It was a harmless thing in passing, so why is it at the forefront of your mind? You are strapped to a table and all you can think about is that little cut you got the day prior. If your head didn’t feel like it was a spinner top right now, you would have laughed. Opening your eyes again you see men all in white armor and helmets guarding the door to your room, while a man in a white coat is working on the machine where your IV is attached. I thought the empire was dead. The same symbol that keeps going through your mind is the same one sewn into the man’s white coat. Your breathing gets shallower as you feel the panic rise in your chest. I’m never getting out of here, you realize as your vision becomes black once again.

You’re losing a lot of blood. You know that. You can feel it when noise wakes you up and your eyelids feel like lead. All the noise is muffled, as if you’re underwater. Frankly it feels like you are. It would be so easy to let the waves of darkness just wash over you right now, to let the water take you under. No, you can’t give up the fight and drown into unconsciousness just yet. You force yourself to stay awake.

Barely getting your eyes open, bright red lights flood your vision. You imagine you’re still in bed, or at least asleep at your desk, with the alarm clock blaring, not here with blaster fire. Wait, blaster fire? You attempt to turn your head to the side to look, or to dodge, you aren’t to sure in your current state. The fast action causes you to feel like you’re spinning, or it might be the room, either way your eyes can’t focus on what is going on. Closing your eyes again to make it stop, you hear voices surrounding you. They sound so far away at the moment but finally, after what feels like ages, one voice sounds clearer.

“Please help us. Help us get out of here. Her m-counts aren’t nearly as high as the child’s. They’re demanding more blood. She’s already lost 2 liters, I don’t know how much longer she can last.”

Child? They wanted to do this to a child? You’d choke down a sob if you could just thinking of that poor baby. What did he even say about what-counts? What the hell are those? All these questions are making your head spin more and more. Taking most of your energy to open your eyes, you’re met with a chrome stormtrooper trying to unbind you. Wait no, not a stormtrooper. You’ve heard stories about him and his people. What were they called? For the life of you, you can’t remember right now.

“You’re going to need help getting her out of here,” you realize that the man in the whit coat was the one who spoke before and is now pleading with the metal man, “Please Mandalorian take me with you and I’ll help you get her out of here.”

That’s it. He’s a Mandalorian. He gets your wrists free as the doctor takes the IV out. Pushing off the table to sit up, the world starts spinning again. You don’t even realize you’re about to hit the table again until the Mandalorian grabs your shoulders to keep you semi-upright. You hear some sort of static come from his helmet. “Fine.” he grumbles, “help me get her out of this thing.”

With a flip of a switch, the rest of your body is free from restraints. Eager to get out of there, you swing your legs over the edge of the table, hands finding the arms of the Mandalorian with his hands still on your shoulders. Nauseous and woozy, you try to use the cold metal of his pauldron to ground yourself, to get the room to stop spinning. He can see you start to sway and wraps his arms around your waist as he lowers you from the table. Your feet hit the floor and black dots start to cloud your vision. Blood pounding in your ears trying to tell you to stop and lie back down. Muffled voices come from beside you again as you feel another arm wrap around you from the other side. Your feet dragging against the floor as both men on either side of you go towards the door.

You feel the heavily armored man to your left let go. Eyes that are still fuzzy and unfocused sort of see him peak out the door with his blaster drawn. He leaves the room and all that can be heard is the pew pew pew of blaster fire. Vision start to come back the tiniest bit, you can see him standing in the door way waving his hand as to say Come on.

The three of you hurry as fast as you can down the corridor to get to an exit. Lots of twists and turns, just for you all to come up at a dead end. So much for rescuing, you think to yourself as the doctor still holding you up, leans you up against a pillar as the two of them survey the situation. More of the Mandalorian assessing the situation and the doctor just frantically pacing back and forth.

Sitting down now that the adrenaline of being kidnapped and “rescued” die down, you feel your breathing getting shallower and harder to breath. Eyelids getting heavy again. You just want to lay down and go to sleep, hoping that will fix things. Starting your descent from your upright position to close your eyes, two hands grab your shoulders and jerk you up. It takes a second to realize this modulated voice was talking you you. “Hey, you got to stay with me now,” he pleads, one hand going to the side of your face. Pain spreads across your features due to being struck there earlier, a bruise starting to form in its place. Pulling his hand away like seeing the your face contorted burned him, he continues, “I’m going to get you out of here, you just have to stay awake.” You open your mouth to speak, but your throat feels like it’s filled with sand from Tattooine, so you just weakly nod your head yes. “Okay good,” the shiny man says after letting out a deep breath.

Still holding your shoulders, he helps you stand up and tells the doctor to take you and go further down the hall. Taking something small and circular out of his belt and placing it on the far wall, he speed walks back toward you two. It starts blinking red as his arms come and cage both of you in. Peeking over his shoulder, you see the wall disappear. Well explode, but one second ago it was there and now it’s not. When the explosion first rings in your ears, you reflexively reach out for the Mandalorian’s arm and feel him tense under your touch.

When he deems it safe to move again, letting go of his arm, he hops over the rubble to the outside world, blaster drawn. Looking out you think it looks like a desert, but one you’ve never seen before. You have no idea where you are, even what planet you are on. You eyes go to where the chrome man is stalking towards. It seems he found two speeder bikes that the troopers use, sans the troopers. Your feet hit the gravel and you realize you aren’t wearing shoes anymore. How long was I out? You begin to question when you see a stormtrooper take aim at your rescuer. Right when he pulls the trigger, you reach your hand out and scream, “NO!”

You could’ve sworn it was going to hit him. It should’ve hit him. But at the last second it bent and went in another direction. You knew stormtroopers were bad shots, but nothing like that has ever happened. The Mandalorian whips around at your scream and shoots the trooper down. He goes back to what he originally planned to do, but not without turning to you. You see his chest plate heave up and down a few times before turning back around. After a beat, the only sound you can hear is the Mandalorian starting up the speeders and your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The doctor helps guide you to the bikes and as you’re about to get on behind him, the Mandalorian picks you up bridal style and sits on his own respective bike. You make a noise of discontent at the sudden action and are then seated in front of him, yet again caged in by his arms with your legs draped over one of his. You can hear him breathing through the modulator as he states, “Just in case you pass out again. Can’t have you falling off the back of the bike.” You go to adjust how you are sitting when he takes off.

Gasping in shock, you hug your arms around his neck with you head in his cowl as you take panicked breaths. His hand touches your back as you hear him shout over the noise of the engines, “Put your legs around me, you’re slipping off.” He holds your waist as you sling your right leg around and hook it with your left one behind his back. Not the position you thought you’d end up in as a blush creeps up on your face, but neither the less here you are. His hand lets go of your waist and back to the handlebars as he steers.

Suddenly getting the feeling like you’re being followed, you say into his neck cowl, “Go left!” You don’t know why, but you just get a gut feeling to go that way. He follows your lead, not without a brief hesitation. The doctor follows on his speeder in the same direction. Finally looking up you see two stormtroopers in the distance. I wish their speeders would just stop or something, you plead with yourself and you think back to what happened with the blaster. Testing the waters, you unhook one of your hands from Mando’s neck and hold it out and... nothing. Okay focus, you close your eyes and picture their speeders stopping, or malfunctioning, or anything at this point.

The sound of a crash comes ringing into your ears. Opening your eyes, you can see the troopers flip over their handlebars as if their engines just died. You slightly chuckle to yourself as your eyelids feel heavy again. You try to get them to stay open, but sleep just feels so much better at the moment. And with that, you’re out like a light.

Din feels you go limp against him. His arm once again going to grab you by your waist to keep you in place. He wills his speeder to go faster, to get back to the Razor Crest sooner as he’s panicking thinking he somehow made the situation worse. He exposed you on the bike by having you sit like this. Your arms, legs, and head were all exposed to possible blaster fire. Have you been hit? He heard a crash but couldn’t look back without moving you more, risking leaving you more unprotected. His blame for himself spirals as his grip on you grows tighter. He can’t explain why he’s so distraught over a stranger, but still every time he blinks, he swears he sees back on that table. The next time he swears he sees his son on that very table again. First he gave the kid up to those people, now he didn’t finish Gideon off and let you, an innocent stranger who he is now clutching onto for dear life, get in the crossfire. Too many people have gotten hurt because of this. Because of him. He needs to make it right.

Finally Din and Dr. Pershing arrive at the Razor Crest where Din is already lowering the hatch and carrying you in. Kicking some crates together, he gently lowers you down onto this makeshift bed. He uses his thermal setting to see your body temperature, to see how you are recovering from the blood loss. He isn’t thrilled to see it still low, you were getting your energy back slowly before, along with more body heat, bit not enough to Din’s liking. Turning his helmet to Pershing, the doctor says, “She’s going to need more blood.” Din, already standing ready to run out and get some, not even knowing where or how to do that, is stopped by Pershing telling him that he’ll go get it, that it would look less suspicious. Agreeing, Din sits by your side while using his comm-link to tell Greef that he could bring Grogu back to the ship. How Din always finds someone to babysit still surprises him.

You wake up with a start. Eyes not yet adjusted to the lights overhead. Looking down you can see an IV in your arm again. Now towards the side, you can see the same doctor from before asleep up against a wall. Please tell me it wasn’t a dream, tears well up in your eyes as you think you’ve made the whole thing up to cope. It wasn’t until you felt your hand come to wipe away your watery eyes that you realized it just might not be a dream. The IV isn’t taking blood this time, it’s giving it.

Finally looking around, you realize you’re on a ship that feels like it’s moving. Confused by this, you try and sit up. Not nearly as dizzy as before, you slowly swing your legs off the wooden crates you’re lying on. Noticing your still barefoot as a chill gets sent up to your spine by the cold metal floor, you grab your IV bag off what appears to be just a hook poorly attached to the ceiling. You venture around the small area of the ship, noticing there isn’t a lot besides these boxes and what appears to be two storage type of units. You don’t even tempt to look in, too intrusive. You do however see a ladder going higher up on the ship. Taking the IV out and ripping a piece of your shirt off to wrap around your arm for pressure, so you can use both hands to climb, you start your ascent up.

Once you finally reach the top, you hear cooing? Didn’t that doctor say something about a child earlier? Looking forward into the cockpit, you see your savior flying while looking to his right at one of the co-pilot chairs. Clearing your throat to get his attention, two little eyes peer at you from the seat. A bright smile appears on this little green things face and you can’t help but stifle a laugh because its ears are the size of his body.

Distracted by this cute baby, you don’t notice the way the Mandalorian swivels his chair to face you. Finally looking at the man who saved you today, your breath hitches. You don’t know how to thank him for what he did, so you sort of just stand and stare for a second. He stands up and lightly grabs your arm with your homemade bandage on it. Tilting his helmet to the side you hear static coming from it. Did he just sigh at you? “You were supposed to keep it in your arm,” he finally states, with a tinge of annoyance.

Eyes not wanting to meet the T of his visor, you direct your gaze to the ground. “ I jus- I-,” you stammer, not able to find the right words. “Thank you.” It comes out more hushed than you’d like, but he still hears you. He just gives you a slight nod before releasing his arm and heading back to his seat. All your muscles turn to stone as you stand there not knowing if you should leave or not, until he cocks his head towards the seat to his left. On shaky legs you find your way to the seat. Before even sitting down fully, the little green child is already trying to get into your lap. Giggling to yourself you let him up onto your lap.

Once you do the strangest thing happens. You can feel what he’s thinking, his emotions, his past. How he was trained with the special abilities, much like the ones you just displayed before. How he was scared and in hiding until the man sitting in front of you found him. How he thinks of him as a father, his dad. Your chest tightens at that one. Still confused as to why the same people who wanted this child, Grogu, for his powers, also wanted you, you pull him to your chest to comfort you both. You finally speak up again and ask, “Did they want me because I might have the same abilities as this one?” You meant it to sound strong, but it just came out sounding weak.

Without looking at you, the Mandalorian replies shortly after a pause, “Yes.” You swore you can see his grip tighten on the ships steering as he says that. Turning to the two of you finally, he says in the sincerest voice you’ve heard out of him, “They wont get to either of you again. I can promise you that.” Your chest swells at this statement and Grogu looks up at you with a smile as if he felt the way your heart fluttered. You wish you were the one wearing the helmet right now because you can feel your cheeks heat up. To ease the situation in the best way you can, awkwardly, you clear your throat before asking, “So where are we headed now?”

Swiveling back in his chair to hit a few buttons, you’re confused not knowing what they are supposed to do until he pulls up a map and points a place out. He tells you that he’s going to drop off Dr. Pershing at one of the squiggles you see and then try and figure it out from there. “So, I guess thats where I get off too?” You meant it to come out more as a statement than a question, but after what you just went through, you’d rather not be left to fend for youself.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally utters after a while. “ But they’re not going to stop coming after you. Either of you. It might be safer for you to stay here with me, us.” The last part comes out so quiet, it’s almost as if he didn’t want you to hear, out of fear of your response.

Trying to not answer too quickly, you take a deep breath and finally say, “Yes. I’d like that a lot.” With a curt nod, he turns back around. Warmth fills your chest yet again at this stranger’s kindness. It’s just because I have the same abilities as his child, you try to convince yourself. But deep down you’re hoping it’s more than that. The child in your lap grips your fingers tightly and coos, as if he’s trying to tell you your hopes might not be too far off.

Oh, it’s going to be an interesting adventure with these two, you smile to yourself.

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jalebi-weds-bluetooth · 2 years

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Hellooooo, Namste. How r my dear behen. If u dont mind I have a question for u. Don't u think Khushi has more control on Arnav like not speaking in juru ka gulam thing. We always see that Arnav is more dominating which he is, but in in relationship khushi lets him be in charge but also takes it away when she wants eg participation in Mrs india, making him agree to her demands(married game, movie) she is aware and unaware at the same time what do u think. Whats your pov, Pls Ans if interesting.

I think you will be interested in this ask.

Before I answer this question I will share my thoughts on relationships in general because that will reflect heavily on my answer.

I believe healthy relationships include the partners having independence and control of their own individual rights. One can take decisions for the other when one asks for help regarding their lives. But otherwise, there is no reason why one should assert dominance on another person's life, i.e., control their life decisions.

Going to competition, thinking about her career, etc - these are all decisions in Khushi's own life. Let's change the context - would Khushi be undermined if Arnav choose to buy out another company? Or walk at the New York Fashion week? No.

But should he talk to her if he opens a chain of sweet shops? Yes. Because Khushi and her family has expertise in managing sweet shops for generations. Similarly, Khushi should've spoken to Arnav about the Mrs. India campaign because he is an expert in this field.

Likewise, I think the issue with Mrs. India track is that it seems like Arnav is offended because he feels undermined as a husband.

That's not the thing. Given his years of expertise in the field of fashion and business - he knows his wife's naivety will cost her and wants to warn her against the issues she will face.

When you love someone and they're doing something in the field you're an expert in - obviously you want to interfere and give them your hard earned knowledge so they can do the best in their field.

Also, Arnav knows Khushi's passion is in food. Not in modeling. He knows she's taking a brash decision to spite him.

It's my main issue with the Mrs. India track. They make her naive and stupid.

Khushi not listening to him is stupidity because he's speaking from experience, not ego.

But Arnav also doesn't realize that he literally insulted her and that's costing them their communication.

If Khushi went ahead with her catering to prove a point that she can earn by herself as she has - it would've made a whole world more sense.

Arnav seems smart in those episodes because it's literally his industry. He would've looked like an idiot if he tried opening a sweet shop and didn't take any of the advices Khushi would've given to him.

Imagine him opening a sweet shop in a middle class market by putting the prices rocket high even though the quality of the sweets are mediocre at best. And to top that, he refuses to negotiate with the food producers and does not offer any special for wedding and festival season.

Doesn't he sound like a complete idiot now?

That's exactly what Khushi is doing in Mrs. India. She enters a pageant without having a portfolio of photographs (those flip phone photos aren't taking her anywhere, you need a professional photographer taking headshots), she does not adhere to the clothing standards, she does not adhere to the physical regime, she does not experiment with styling nor makeup, she isn't aware of the internal politics and literally has no clue that this is a cut-throat industry where being 'nice' doesn't help.

(I died at how the production really tried to dumb her down and make her makeup and hair terrible when this woman has been looking freaking hot for about two years now. Lol)

Being middle classed and unaware is the last of problems here. It's Khushi's refusal to learn and adapt to an environment and her inability to stand up for herself in an industry that values people with backbones is what makes this whole track irritable and Khushi and idiot. And what's terrible is that Arnav is coming to her rescue every single time. So there's no actual independence nor proving a point.

I don't know what married game you're referring to.

Also Khushi wishing for Arnav to take her to a movie is because she doesn't enjoy horse-racing at all. I think this is common between them, they don't know how to share an activity they both enjoy - rather they push one person on their favorite actions. Either he takes her to derby, not thinking whether or not she'll enjoy it. Likewise she wishes to go for a movie with him because it's something she enjoys and she wants to do it with him. Also, that whole movie scene was crap and it was bad writing. According to Star Plus, married women don't feel sexual desire for their husbands post wedding and are only dedicated to being cute, funny and always in a state of service for their in-laws. I can't believe she couldn't understand that he wanted to spend time with her. Chaahat gayi tel lene.

I think they learn with her taking him out for an English/American film.

I don't think anyone lets anyone take charge in this Arnav-Khushi relationship. Pre their remarriage it appears Arnav is taking a lot of charge because he literally is. Khushi is at a disadvantage because he has her sister's happiness at his fingertips. It's unequal footing.

Arnav and Khushi clash post marriage because they've actually never lived in a healthy relationship together, therefore they don't know how it is to adjust to another person's different opinion. Previously Arnav would impose his wishes on her or she would cut off communication and do her own thing. But now they're happily married and slowly realizing that their usual way of imposing wills or acting on their own whims is more harmful to their relationship.

The important thing is that they learn. Arnav learns to give her space and respect her opinions and she learns to appreciate the thing she's getting without feeling slighted.

Lastly, there was a lot of bad writing, directing and producing going on by the end of the show!

Thanks for asking!

Best,

- JWB

#ask #ipkknd #anon #ipkknd analysis #mrs india track #movie track #I have so many thoughts #like literally

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faorism · 3 years

Text

needing the au to drop wherein i can commit to writing a historical au,, because since i first watched the db cooper job my mind went straight to OT3! OT3! OT3! (unlike with the van gogh job, since i aint playing with that fucking lieutenant)

one day maybe one dayyyyy i will sit down and i will write the ot3 into that episode's story. so, it'll be the backgrounds for the characters in the flashback (so, stephanie ritter, steve reynolds, and reggie wilkins), but with the necessary personality adjustments (parker, eliot, and hardison respectively). basically, vintage ot3 with some hot as hell aesthetics and secrets and avoiding as much as possible producing copraganda.

so. my thoughts. what i see happening. and this got super long so im throwing this under a cut. and for ease i will call them by their modern day canon names except when making a point.

first, general thoughts about the characters.

and so: steve to eliot. nothing much here on the surface. eliot still volunteers, too much an indoctrinated white man to have been forcibly drafted. so its still one man gone to war. one man come back. eliot would had been noticed early in training for his ability to pick shit up, and they teased at maybe sending him to a special unit. maybe they do, or maybe they don't because they just need to funnel fuckers to the jungle. the vietnam invasion was a terrorist imperialist venture and there's no romanticizing from me about anything done being at all valorous or special or brother-in-arms'y. and eliot commits war crimes under the american stars and stripes instead of just to keep moreau's champaign running. but also maybe moreau is eliot's superior. he certainly would have been rewarded for this ruthlessness. (eliot of course strove to impress moreau because there aint an eliot spencer who wasn't that man's dog at some point, i!!!! dont make the rules). eliot's friend died and eliot's gone off to carry out his wishes and moreau lets him because he Knows eliot is gonna come back. whether its to come back to the same squad, or follow him into deeper spy shit for the military, or to fuck off and go private. then eliot meets parker.

now. stephanie to parker. beth plays normal so well im mad at her, but there's something edgy and strategic about stephanie that i think parker can grab onto. i feel that maybe she was kind of a thief still, but there's more realism to this world so archie wasnt a super secret spy with lasers to practice with, but just a guy with sticky fingers whos a little bored and wants a protege. parker is good really good at what she does, and not having to deal with lasers makes me easy. but she's into scams that are less grifts and more Catch Me If You Can slight of hands. she's always looking for easy money (she was into lifting cars at one point! literally she follows where the crime is). she's doing something in an airport and someone tries to recruit her as a flight attendant because she's got the Look. and yall, flight attendants? that shit was like being a model and an astronaut and a time traveler back then. and according to a teacher i had, who once worked as in the f.a. union, those ladies back in the day were rad and queer and free spirited and runnnnning shit. i think, yes, it's a Job which i think we might resist placing parker into. but! of the jobs, at the time, i really see her rocking it during the time period. (also come on, the opportunities to swindle distracted people of their shit would be endless. they would just think they dropped their stuff in the airport! not that it was stolen.)

finally, reggie to alec. i think hardison will be the hardest to translate. even tho i admittedly listen to a lot of true crime podcasts, i dont know much about fbi life and also definitely don't know about it historically. part of me desperately wants to put him somewhere else even if it does have to stay within the fbi. i might cheat and make him like a Q(uartermaster) to 007/00s like in james bond, and he's like UGH this is horrible god i hate working for the fbi but they will give me funding so...... anyway, here's this totally cool [radio term]. that said, if hardison is stuck in the fbi, why he ends up there is that he is a fucking savant when it comes to research and the man can put together a presentation like no one else. that white man gets all the credit for profiling but it was hardison who goddamn was the google of the microfilm days. reggie felt super square but that might be because he had to deal with mcsweeties db cooper shit day in and day out for years. hardison is more himself. and definitely still a nerd. alec would be into dime fantasy novels and comics and ham radios and oh god he also would be into star trek like the original star trek as it came out and he would be into the zines yes! yessss. omg. also he plays a mean arcade cabinet. but he's mostly well adjusted but lonely. his colleagues dont appreciate him because fbi esp during that time were fucking wilding out and racist as hell aaaaaand im sorry im srry im trying so hard to have fbi hardison make sense but also! acab. ANYWAY.

second, the relationship

i think it would be fun to play with what it means to have parker/eliot start off first and bring in hardison afterwards. (if white collar is your thing, it would be like this canon divergent ot3 fic wherein peter burke is the last to join in.) i feel they would be Super Intense esp since they are carrying this big ass secret. kind of broken and dysfunctional and there's the passion and the commitment, but i think there's also a tenderness that's super hard for them to achieve? and i think there's a way that hardison plays such an important part in who they are and how they are. like, sure i think parker/eliot would have joy but they won't have levity. they would have compassion but they won't have gentleness.

eliot meets hardison after being recruited by nate. i think they get close because while nate and eliot have an interesting and compelling mentorship/friendship, nate is still eliots superior; sometimes its nice to complain about your boss, as hardison will say to eliot to try to make friends. i think hardison and eliot would become legit friends and not just work buddies because they are just not cut out of the same cloth as the rest of their colleagues. they grab beers after work. after hard days, hardison cajoles eliot into going to the arcade. they are friends. real real truly deep best friends, in a way hardison didn't think he could have with a fed and eliot didnt think he would have after his friend died. but also? they are like "buds" who are buds who are desperately tryna to cross any lines because there's a.... tension? an UST between them they dont know what to do with.

parker meets eliot by way of a "lets have my friend for dinner, he's a blast." and immediately immediately hardison is like... wow this woman is beautiful but like, really attracted to her personality. and parker things hardison is kinda dorky but cute dorkie? anyway, they have a puppy love situation growing. and it keeps growing until bam. eliot and parker are like. are we into alec???? fuck we are aren't we.

i think stephanie and steve would never tell reggie (even if somehow they were to be a thing). but parker and eliot? hell yeah they tell hardison. eventually. after a while. sooner than maybe they should. the tension if they should say something is one of the things that build up as UST between them for so long; parker and eliot know they are carrying this huge thing. two huge things. eliot being db cooper and also their massive crush on him.

if i could control myself to stick to a pwp, it would be another christmas. maybe the christmas nine (more?) years down the road. the damn snow grounded hardison's flight back to his nana's, and parker and eliot hear this and invite him over. the egg nog gets flowing and parker eventually is like,, fuck this. and comes onto hardison. and hardison would be like wow wow what but... idk, free love and swinging were In The Thoughts And Minds Of The People. he still checks in with eliot who is like. her body, man; i aint gonna tell her what to do. and for a sec hardison is like, man is this a cuck situation? i guess i can be for it but also...... aint mad if i aint alone. and eliot is so grateful and idk. i just want them all to be happy and having fun and no one to be left out. and yeah i am kinda brushing over a lot of the racial politics which, in a more developed fic rather than a pwp, would definitely need to be brought in; but idk that needs to just be in the bedrock of whatever plot is going into this.

it takes a lot of maneuvering of their lives but they make it work and eventually hardison is a keeper of eliot's secret too.

(apart from the historical aspect, another reason i probably won't actually write this is because i know myself. i would want to do worldbuilding. i would follow eliot and alec to their jobs, but i wouldnt want to write outright copaganda. the grit/realism i would be comfortable with would take a level of research i dont think i can commit to. but if someone wants to take this up or if you figure out a way around this issue, pls do i wont be mad)

#eliot spencer #parker leverage #alec hardison #leverage #thiefsome #okay i srsly am not this active but this week got me wanting to talk and talk about these three beauties #the db cooper job

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halcyon-writings · 3 years

Text

family

requested?: yes (anonymous) //tldr, if alucard had a sibling (the reader, of course) dealing with the loss of family, both living and not

note(s)/warning(s): canonical character death, spoilers babyyyyy, violence and injury, angst it’s rare for anyone in this series to have a good time huh?, also for this being that the reader can literally look however you want, imma say Lisa isn’t white bc I do what I want and it’s my fic :) this is also the most i’ve written in a good while omg, im highkey proud so pls don’t let this flop

Lisa Tepes is dead.

Your mother, is dead.

Killed, burned alive. Gone to ashes.

All because the church had believed she was a witch of sorts. Several thoughts dance in the back of your mind as you gaze upon the pyre. Smoldering from the heat, the flames gone. Your father leaving his message, no, his warning, that he would act in one year.

“A farce that was!” You hear a shout, and you force down the bitter laugh, throat tight and eyes burning. Especially so when you slowly begin to hear continued shouts of agreement, from voices previously silent.

Here your mother was, her final resting place. Burned to ashes for some sick show of power.

And you could do nothing as she was mocked for it.

Your fist clenched at your side, you feel your nails cutting into your skin, but you walk away to return home.

And to say that the castle was no less better was an understatement. Your father was most likely in his quarters.

And when you finally sit down, the weight of your weary finally settling against your soul, do you allow yourself cry. Quiet tears turning to sobs as you muffle your voice with a pillow.

You had failed her. Missing the chance to save your mother, too late to have done anything.

But you pause, noticing the presence at your door, your brothers familiar knocking pattern resounding suddenly through the empty hall.

“Come in,” Your voice is embarrassingly raspy. As you clear your throat, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. But it wouldn’t hide the redness of your eyes.

Adrian says nothing, and a part of you wishes he did. His larger hand takes yours. A comforting squeeze.

You blink again feeling your eyes burn, and you squeeze his hand back.

“Father is...” He trails off, no doubt thinking of what he could say next.

“What he plans on doing, it’s not justice.”

You stare up at him, But it would be deserving. A bitter corner of your mind supplies.

While Adrian had taken after Mother in his demeanor, much more kinder, more welcoming. You were no doubt like Father. Reserved, distrusting, easily prone to grudges if you were wronged in some way.

But you bite your tongue.

“He gave them a year,” You murmur after some time, “But no doubt he’s ready to calling his armies.”

At this Adrian turns alarmed. the warmth from his hand slips away.

“We must stop him!”

You’re still reeling from the events from earlier today, and a part of you wishes to have no part in his attempt to try and stop your father. But then you remember your mother.

Her kindness, regardless of how she was viewed for being different.

And your warily stand anyway.

If only you had more sense. Your father remains eerily silent as he embraces you both. His hold tighter, and while Adrian seemed convinced, you saw the dark look in his eyes.

The year had passed. You weren’t surprised to hear of the bloodshed.

It was naive to expect otherwise. While reluctantly following your brother, you can only stand, frozen as your blood feels like ice in your veins as your remaining family clashes.

“No.” Your voice is barely a whisper.

They don’t hear you.

Glass shatters.

And foolishly enough, you rush forward.

With your brother injured and fleeing, and you yourself were not free from any sort of pain.

Stepping in between the two as they fought ended with a gnarly gash on your shoulder, as you fell to your knees and blood slipping past your fingers. Your father stands in front of you, like a protective pillar as your brother stares in shock, quickly wanting to help you in some way.

And then the fight is over. Your brother is gone too.

The castle is much larger and colder now.

As you’re confined to your room, the wound healing into an angry red, then to a muted and dull scar. For a moment you wished it took longer, your father guilty and you were reminded of times you had been sick when you were younger. While you had not been too keen on the typical children’s books, reading theory on physics and other sciences only seemed fun when he would read to you and you’d ask questions in between passages. (Your voice funny from a stuffy nose led to laughter and a small coughing fit but otherwise it was nice).

But now was not the time to reminisce on the happy childhood.

You know you cannot stay. Ultimately, Adrian had been right. Once you feel as though you can move your arm once again, slowly, you begin pack a small bag. You didn’t want to build up any suspicions, finding some money in your room and whenever you could take a few coins or so from your father that he would not miss.

Extra clothes were folded and put away separately.

And you make your escape on a rainy evening, the uneven droplets helping hide your tracks. But you knew now that your father had brought back Hector and Isaac, new generals to help fight in his war, you had to be weary of the night creatures that would no doubt be sent after you.

Well, you were creative. At times flying in a transformed look, no one would suspect a bat in the dark of night afterall. And it was easier to. find good vantage points that way. But to also avoid any people, you didn’t quite trust yourself to not get into an altercation with a bigot.

You rarely slept longer than necessary, especially not when those dreams were memories or nightmares.

Now that you had learned how to walk, you were a right menace. It was an uphill battle in itself to keep you in one place. You were curious and the world you knew (being your father’s vast castle) was huge. Your childlike curiosity was never let down by your adventures.

You laugh quietly, which sounds like small squeaks as you fly up and hide above the gaudy chandeliers. Your father, giant coat gone, hair tied back and in a plain dress shirt and slacks as he searched for a curious toddler.

Snickers continuing as he paces down the hall. You hop down, landing slowly and feet planting into the ground, knees bent. Before you had down the opposite direction.

The lab usually wasn’t a place you could be allowed in on your own. But having heard that your mother was there, you knew it wouldn’t be a problem! So your little legs carried you along. Until you found the familiar doorway.

Dozens of tubes and mechanisms had you turning your head as you wandered in, your shoes tapping against the marble floor.

“Now what brings you here, sweetling?” The warmth of your mother’s voice has you smiling before you see her. As you run forward and hug her side, clutching her dress in your small fists. “Not causing trouble for your father are you?”

You shake your head grin betraying your word, “Nope! I’m not doing any trouble!”

“And how since when did that happen?” She laughs gently.

“Now.”

Your brother looks up from his own books, waving before returning to work. Your nose crinkles, so much for playing experimenting. But before you can say much, your nearly yelp as you’re brought up into the air by a pair of strong arms.

“I’ve found you, little wanderer.” Your father’s voice carries no heat behind it. Then again, he was always soft hearted for you and your brother. But most of all, your mother.

“I’m not little!” You pout, “I’m big now!”

You’re taken away from your reverie at the snap of a twig.

With your lack of sleep, as you had insisted on traveling more, you were less than surprised to have been snuck up on.

“Peace, my friend,” The old man murmurs. You keep your knife in an iron grip in front of you. Who you’re guessing is his son or grandson, has his hands raised the same way, but no weapon to be seen, magic, oh good. Then again, not like you needed a knife when you could make your nails go into claws and the fangs. Don’t forget the fangs.

“I can’t exactly be peaceful when it’s the middle of the night and suddenly figures in blue robes appear out of now where,” You answer dryly. But seeing as how the others behind the main two have not done or said anything noteworthy, nor were their stances make them look like they could really fight, you lower your weapon slightly.

Clearing your throat, “Although, I shouldn’t be swinging my own weapon around either.”

The old man just smiles gently. And you can’t help but be just slightly comforted.

In the end, the speakers stop for the evening. And the Elder, despite looking like a frail old man, is firm in his decision that you stay and “eat properly.” And like a scolded child, you listen. Food and drink all but pushed into your hands as you’re quickly brought into conversation, the previous confrontation all but forgotten.

And then you perk up when he mentions Gresit.

“So... the sleeping soldier,” You begin, slowly chewing on the sweet bread you had been given. “It was true?”

The Elder nods, “My grandchild and a traveller, they had gone to explore it. Well, the traveller had gone to save my grandchild. I will not hide the fact that I was a bit doubtful. But Belmont had proved himself a man of his word. Although, he does need to drink more water.”

You blink, a look of a surprise clear on your face. Belmont...

Fuck.

“Although I hadn’t expected the legend of the sleeping soldier to be realized so quickly.”

At your inquisitive look, the Elder begins to explain. Of a holy warrior beneath Gresit, who would come to save it’s people in their most dire of hours.

“The pair had come up with a man with long hair, like gold.” You couldn’t help but let out the breath you had been holding. So the Belmont didn’t try to kill him. you could breathe a little easier at that fact.

“Where are they now?” You ask, holding the empty cup in your hands, as you stare down as though waiting for something.

Getting your answer, you stand, adjusting your bag over your shoulders. You wave off the concern in staying, if it had already been several days since the Speakers had left Gresit, then you needed to cover a lot of land to get to your brother.

That is, until you saw the expression on the Elder’s face grow stern, as though he was scolding a child. With a heavier bag, one that the Elder insisted that you take some more things you could eat along the way, in exchange you give the Elder a small trinket you had been using to hide from the monsters of your father’s army, you finally set off. While your worries were not completely settled, your shoulders felt lighter. Metaphorically of course.

Of course, giving away the object that kept you hidden made it a bit more, difficult, when it came to trying to hide and travel at night. Much less even try to stop and rest.

It had barely been two days since you had left the speakers, and already, you had run into some trouble, a beastly creature’s claws barely caught on your sleeve, leaving your arm bare as you shuddered from the chill in the air. You can only sigh mournfully, you really liked that coat. But, better your sleeve than say, you actually getting wounded.

Your nails resemble claws, while your free hand holds the dagger in a steady grip. But being surrounded on all sides, it did not look promising.

Well, you thought mournfully, if you died you could at least see your mother again.

Until you hear the sound of what reminds you of a whistle? And then a sword flying through the air, slicing through the night creatures, giving you a chance to get some distance.

You hear the surprised shout of your name, and look up, to see your brother wide eyed, sword now returned to him, and a man and woman standing at his side.

“Um... hi.”

Much to your relief, the night creatures are easily taken care of.

And as you’re finally able to explain your story, you find yourself relaxing into the extra cloak given to you by the Elder.

“You mean you met the Speakers on your journey?!” A woman, petite with short blonde locks, who you learn is named Sypha, asks, and you notice the way her shoulders sag in relief.

You nod, “Yes. They all were safe.” If her shoulders sagged anymore she’d full on be slouching. You leave out the part of leaving a possibly precious trinket with them, not wanting her to think you cursed them or something.

“So you mean to tell me, Dracula, fucking Dracula, had more than one kid? That he actually had a woman not only give him not just one, but two children?” Is incredulously asked next by the scruffy looking man. Trevor, as your brother says.

You only stare in annoyance, sure your father was about to raise an army to annihilate the human populace but he didn’t used to be that way.

Before you can retort with a scathing remark of your own, Sypha elbows him harshly in the side. And you know it hurts from the way he immediately puts a hand where she hit him, eyes widening slightly. Serves him right.

“And what of...” Adrian- no Alucard as he wishes to be called, asks, near hesitant.

“Father?” You ask, arms crossed, “Same old same old. Planning the same amount of destruction here or there.”

As he looks to the snow covered earth, you roll your eyes, “Did you expect anything different?”

It’s quiet, and neither Sypha nor Trevor speak.

“No.”

You all sat around camp quietly for a while after that.

Your lungs feel like they’re being constricted. Your throat burns as you struggle to breathe, claws digging into your skin like knives. Before you’re thrown backwards, landing harshly against the wall. Books fall from the book case and your weapon clatters noisily from the ground.

You take shallow breaths, barely standing before you’re thrown once more. Curse your father’s stature and supernatural strength. You close your eyes, waiting for another attack and at least hoping to brace yourself for it, but it never came.

Instead, your brother stands in front of you, as he and your father remain in a standstill. Sypha and Trevor’s footsteps are rushing towards you three.

It all continues to move so fast, until he stops noticing the painting of your mother, as she had been holding your brother and then you as a baby, and the next thing you know, your father is staked through the heart. And with wobbly legs, you take your sword, and swing. So falls Dracula. But it felt like no victory.

You sit up with an alarmed look, stopping yourself from shouting.

That was... a dream? You rub your eyes, feeling that your cheeks are wet and you sigh.

When you see a shadow looming over you, the light of the fire giving slight visibility, you freeze. Before noticing it’s your brother and not his companions.

“Sorry,” You say, making sure to not look at him, so that he didn’t see your tears.

Quietly, he places his coat over your shoulders, sitting beside you, wrapping his own blanket loosely around his own shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

You only grip the jacket lapels tighter, shaking slightly as you hiccup, unable to stop yourself from crying again.

He must think it’s because you miss your mother, and you do. But this dream was far different. And you say nothing as he brings you into his arms. Your tears having long since dried when the sun rises moments later. But you find yourself falling asleep as your brother rubs soothing circles on your back, feeling the build up exhaustion finally leaving you.

When you’re awake much later in the day you can’t help but laugh a little when Sypha scolds your brother for being mean enough to make you cry, he didn’t you assure her quick enough, although you’re back to laughing when she then turns around to scold Belmont when he makes another slight comment.

#castlevania netflix x reader #castlevania imagines #castlevania imagine #castlevania netflix imagines #mine

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sunxeii · 3 years

Note

I love reading your tags and was wonder what your interpretation on the Lip x Lip pocky edition is? Also, more similarities between Ken and Aizou's types because I want them to have some common ground they have so they can try to talk to each other and reconnect again.

Aww, I’m glad you love reading my tags~ Thank you sm!! <33 it makes me happy knowing people like my rambles and opinion on things,,

Are you talking about that pocky scene in the new MV where Yuujirou and Aizou are at the store together and had their own pockys in their hands? Or are you referring to their pocky flavors? :O pls let me know~

As for the analysis between Ken and Aizou’s types…

(I ended up talking A LOT so you can read more under the cut ahsjs)

I know you probably meant their physical similarities (like hairstyle, etc) but I kinda delved more into their characters??

Compared to the Shibasaki brothers who, in a sense, are more modern… Yuujirou and Arisa have different family backgrounds than most people. Arisa’s family owns a shrine, meanwhile, the Someya family has a kabuki legacy and many of them (especially his stepdad and brother) are very strict about beauty + a good performance. Arisa is sometimes seen in shrine maiden clothing while Yuujirou is sometimes seen in traditional clothing. Arisa’s grandfather is a Shinto shrine priest and Yuujirou’s stepdad/brother and other people in his personal life are kabuki actors.

Both of them know how to dance like some of their family members and they definitely practice.

Here, Ken is watching her perform and blushing. Aizou has also canonically seen Yuujirou perform kabuki. LOOK HOW GOOD THEY LOOK and their eyes omg (granted, arisa obviously looks happier but yeah) BUT YEAH,, look at these two images and tell me you don’t find the similarities.

Also, both Yuujirou and Arisa sometimes do the :3 face

Arisa had put her hair up in high twintails after being inspired by Sena, and she even moved forward in life as she tried to be more outgoing and friendly. Since Yuujirou’s application has him with long bangs and he came to the audition with short bangs, I’m assuming he may have cut them himself. He has also tried being more kind and cool to the public eye (fans, classmates, etc.)

So they both directly changed their hairstyles and acted friendlier. They’re moving forward aww

Arisa and Yuujirou don’t consider Ken and Aizou as perfect, even from the start. Arisa found Ken’s way of living too “my-pace” and even boring. Meanwhile, Yuujiou bickered with Aizou on their first meeting.

Both Arisa and Yuujirou had problems making friends when they were younger. Yuujirou kept himself busy with Kabuki practice whenever he was invited to hang out so he never rlly formed any actual friendships, and Arisa tended to “poke her nose into other people’s affairs and had unintentionally spoken harshly during elementary school, which ended up with her often being left out by her peers,” according to her novel.

Aizou is technically Yuujirou’s first friend, since it was revealed that Yuujirou’s childhood lacked any friendships and he pushed everyone away because he felt like there wasn’t a point in making friends. However, Aizou kept talking to him and involving him in things despite their arguments. In Arisa’s case, Ken noticed her from afar and told his friend to keep an eye on her ( for him to act like her friend or smth.) This helped her get situated and it made her feel happy.

We know that the Shibasaki brothers have a certain way they portray themselves on the outside. They are seen as sociable, friendly, and outgoing by the public eye (aizou with his fans and classmates.) But on the inside, despite their popularity and interactions, they’re lonely people. Other people like them but they can’t see who they truly are, at least 100%. Both Yuujirou and Arisa can. The brothers talk to their partners and involve them in stuff, even when the other doesn’t seem to want to comply or ignore them. Arisa defends/defended people and Yuujirou has actually defended Aizou and even made him cheer up and laugh by doing a particular face when his idol partner was visibly upset about something. So, the both of them help the boys better themselves and the Shibasaki brothers know they can rely on their partners. Lonely Persons imply that Yuujirou and Arisa are the only people that can understand Aizou and Ken, even when the other doesn’t properly say it in words or tell anyone else. It’s like words aren’t even needed and their bonds are deeper than that.

Both the cat versions of their types look at the brothers and arisa is within arms reach, fairly close to ken because she’s there for him and they’re dating. Aizou feels like Yuujirou is there for him but he’s also afraid of losing him and that they aren’t as close as he may think— obviously that’s not true because yuujirou appears with a smile and looks at him softly. // psttt just shoot ur shoot aizou// Both Arisa and Yuujirou are holding their cat versions (kuro and the random cat lmao) close to their chests too, with one hand over the cats’ backs.

Between Aiyuu and Shibarisa, arisa and yuujirou are seen as the more “chill” or “quiet” ones (even though, of course, yuujirou is quite sneaky and arisa is outgoing in a way)

Arisa seems to like the crepes on their date and Yuujirou, with his sweet tooth, would DEFINITELY love crepes. i demand a crepe date for aiyuu,, i demand us seeing aiyuu eating cake on xmas.

By the way, this is just a fun observation but both Ken and Aizou definitely think about texting Arisa and Yuujirou the most during literally anything. In “Naimaki Honey”, Ken looks happy while he stares at his phone and he’s def on LINE a lot for arisa— i bet he texts her goodmorning and goodnight + little things. Aizou literally texted Yuujirou at 2 am over some BEEF ROAST he made. like it was his first thought after he finished and yuujirou read it immediately (but didn’t reply lmao) I’m assuming arisa and yuujirou don’t text with the same energy as their partner most times.

Also, we already know how they’ve been compared to or represented by cats. And the Shibasaki brothers own a cat, plus aizou likes cats more.

OK WOO— i’m done HSJS. So sorry that it was a long read !!! I tried to compile some stuff and then I accidentally exited out and lost everything SHDJS

#dark hair with short sharp bangs #didn’t rlly have friends when they were younger #got compared to cats #like sweets #didn’t like their partner at first #come from a line of families that aren’t modern or common #they’re outgoing but not as bubbly or loud as their partners #lipxlip #honeyworks #aiyuu #shibasaki aizou #someya yuujirou #aiyuu canon #haniwa #shibarisa #shibasaki ken #takamizawa arisa #anon asks #asks

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ghostburs-blue · 4 years

Note

hello! if you can, could you do prompt 46 and 57 with spencer pls?

I’m soso sorry it took so long for me to answer this! I’ve been struggling with a major case of writing block but I hope you like it <33 I wanted to give you quality work instead of trying to rush on it and get this out as soon as possible! Enjoy anon and thank you for supporting me!

You’re Perfect

Request: “ hello! if you can, could you do prompt 46 and 57 with spencer pls?” > #46: “Please don’t say that about yourself. Please don’t believe that. You’re so much more than that. You’re so…” / #57: Heart eyes when the other talks, sings, dances, argues, does literally anything especially things which others make fun of them for or find annoying

Summary: People are mean and y/n doesn’t love herself

Warnings: talks about not eating, not drinking, low self-confidence, mentions of depression, in general lots of angst, fluff ending *please don’t read if any of these are sensitive or triggering topics for you!!!!*

Word count: 3k

A/n: this was actually a really good way to relieve my own feelings <3 it was almost a vent write? please DO NOT read if these are triggering subjects to you. i want you all to know that you’re beautiful and spectacular and you all mean so much to me. please take care of yourselves! my dm’s and inbox is ALWAYS open for you to come and talk to me if you feel as though you need to or want to. love you all dearly!

~story below the cut~

You gave a small laugh as you grabbed another piece of bruschetta from the plate in front of you.

“Are you sure you want to eat that y/n?” One of your friends, Sadie, casually commented.

Your hand faltered as you brought the piece of bread to your mouth.

“I- what do you mean?” You asked, slightly confused.

“I just mean,” Sadie paused and looked around the room at the group of girls clustered on the sofas together. “You’re getting a little plump, you know?” She laughed. “Especially around the… stomach,” she waved her hand around your tummy area.

Some of the other girls nod. “Yeah, watch out. Especially if you want to look good in that bikini you bought for our beach trip,” another girl, Maddy, smirked.

You carefully placed the bruschetta back on the plate, trying to give a small smile. “I, I wasn’t hungry anyway,” you attempted to give a small smile that you hoped hid your tears. “Thanks for the warning guys,” you offered.

The group smiled. “Of course, we’re just here to tell you the truth,” Sadie chirped. You gave a curt nod.

You ended up leaving the hangout early, you had lost your mood to have fun after the… interesting comments made.

Heading back to your apartment, you shut your phone off and took a hot shower.

It was only 10:30 when you decided to call it a night, not bothering to check your phone for any messages or notifications.

You woke up early the next morning, slowly climbing out of bed.

Making your way to the bathroom, you stood in front of your mirror. You stared at your reflection, taking in your appearance. Almost numbly, your hands rose, pulling and pushing at the skin on your face.

They made their way to your lips, dragging the flesh down with it. They froze as they reached your mouth, a single finger tracing the outline of it.

“I love your lips,” Spencer’s voice echoed throughout your head. “They’re beautiful and feel so good under mine,” he assured you. You had just told him about your insecurities about them; growing up, many had told you that they were too large, didn’t fit well with your face. Spencer kissed all the confidence back into them, making you feel good about them again. The memory slowly vanished from your mind.

No, you fought back. No, he’s a liar. No part of me was beautiful then, no part of me is beautiful now, you thought angrily, hands gripping the countertop so hard your knuckles turned white.

You brushed your hair and teeth, throwing on only enough makeup to hide your dark circles and sunken cheeks, much less than normal. Trudging to your room, it was the same story with your outfit. Normally you liked to make your outfit cute and coordinated; today you had no drive to do anything of the sort.

Throwing on a plain white blouse and some mom jeans, you grabbed your phone, keys, and a bottle of water before leaving for work.

Pulling into the parking lot, you stepped out of your car and immediately kept your head down as you walked in. It was still early, early enough that probably only Hotch would be here.

You sat down at your desk in the bullpen as you grabbed pulled a stack of manila folders. Today was supposed to be a paperwork day, meaning there would be no stress or hassle of cases or investigations. Nonetheless, the rest of the team and you always had a go-bag underneath your seat for any emergencies. You prayed there wouldn’t be one today.

As 8:30 rolled closer and closer, more of your teammates started showing up. Morgan was first, exclaiming a loud, “Hey babygirl!” when he first saw you. You offered a small smile and stood up to hug him like you always did when you saw each other in the morning. You watched as he briefly skimmed your outfit, taking in the look. You noticed as his lips pursed, then stretched into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he headed to his desk.

Next came JJ, then Garcia, following the same pattern as Morgan. The same tight-lipped, overdramatic smiles. Then, Reid. The one you were dreading the most.

He practically ran in, slightly out of breath and winded as his eyes frantically searched the room. They softened and his body relaxed as they landed on you.

Walking over, he spun your chair to face him, tilting your head up to meet his gaze when you hesitated to make eye contact with him. He kissed your forehead as he spoke to you gently.

“Hey babe, I was worried when you didn’t reply to my messages last night or this morning,” he murmured. You looked up and tried to hide the look of despair in your eyes.

“Yeah, I decided to sleep a little earlier than normal,” you lied easily, attempting to relax your rigid body posture.

Spencer clearly didn’t buy it, but didn’t try and push you further on the topic. He nodded, kissing you once more before heading to his own desk.

Turning back to the mountain of paperwork in front of you, you didn’t need eyes on the back of your head to know that the rest of the team was talking behind your back.

You stood up suddenly, heading to the kitchen to grab some coffee. You brewed yourself a fresh pot, back pressed against the counter as you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone while waiting.

As soon as it was done, you poured yourself a cup of the dark liquid, not caring about how hot it was. Walking out the room, you turned the corner, promptly running into Garcia. The coffee splashed out of the cup and onto your white shirt, effectively staining it and turning it seethrough. You hissed from the pain.

“Oh, hon I’m so sorry!” Garcia exclaimed, frozen in shock. Coming to her senses, she quickly ran into the kitchen and came out with a few paper towels.

She tried to dab your shirt and soak up the liquid, but it wasn’t doing much. The wet fabric clung to your body, and you felt extremely exposed standing in the hallway, where anyone could see you.

“Do you have any extra shirts?” Garcia fretted, trying to stay calm. You gave a small nod and grabbed her arm, smiling.

“Love, it’s okay. It’s just a shirt,” you murmured, though it seemed like you were trying to reassure yourself more than her. “I’m going to grab one from my go-bag, okay?” You comfortingly squeezed her hand, then turned to head into the bullpen.

You took a deep breath before stepping out into the brightly lit area. Uncomfortably, you crossed your arms over your midsection, quickly making your way over to your desk. As you bent down to grab your go-bag, you felt everybody’s eyes burning into you. A touch on your shoulder caused you to jump and replace your arms.

It was just Spencer.

“Y/n, is everything okay? What happened?” He gestured towards the coffee stain peeking out from the top of your crossed arms, attempting to pull them down to see more. You stepped back and only tightened your hold on your body, shaking your head.

“It’s only a little spill,” you reassured him. “I just need to grab a change of clothes,” you smiled at him.

Unzipping the duffel bag, you swallowed as you looked inside. All the shirts were tight-fitting, accentuating your body. You closed it suddenly.

“On second thought,” you winced and looked up at Spencer. “Do you still have my hoodie in your car?” You asked him. He nodded, confused.

“Yeah, I do. Why? Don’t you have clothes in here?” Reid asked, gesturing towards the bag.

“Uh, yeah, but… I’m feeling cold?” You replied, voice turning up at the end. He frowned.

“I’ll go get it. Just, stay here?” He offered, heading to his car to get the jacket.

Sitting down in your chair, you attempted to make yourself as small as possible and hide from the confused stares of the others. Just as you were sure someone was going to break the deafening silence, Spencer reappeared with the light grey hoodie in his hands.

You breathed a small sigh of relief, almost feeling like you could cry as he handed it to you. Thanking him, you went to the bathroom to change.

Stepping out of the restroom, you caught sight of JJ ahead of you, walking in your direction. She stopped, greeting you with a smile.

“I was just about to tell the team,” she started. You groaned, already knowing what she was going to say. JJ nodded, agreeing with you. “We have a case. Head to the briefing room as soon as possible,” she said with a grim look. You nodded, heading straight there and nabbing a seat.

The rest of the group filed in, and you saw Hotch and Rossi for the first time that day. Hotch gave you a once over, taking in your grey baggy hoodie and loose jeans. Some emotion filled his tired eyes, something you were too exhausted to decipher. You didn’t even bother to look at Rossi.

JJ started the briefing, the team adding comments and guesses throughout. It was a sad case, surrounding women being abducted from college campuses in California.

Hotch stood, surveying everyone before he announced, “Wheels up in an hour.” The group disassembled, everyone flocking to their desks to grab what was needed. You remained seated, taking a deep breath before slowly standing up and following the others.

If anyone noticed your mood, they didn’t say anything. You all had an hour before takeoff, so the group collectively decided to head for a quick lunch.

You didn’t order anything, claiming you felt a little under the weather when Spencer nudged you and asked about it. You nursed a glass of water and stayed out of the conversation, only giving your two cents when someone prompted you to.

Eventually, you all boarded the plane. You still didn’t eat, looking in disgust at your go-bag filled with clothes pushed below your seat.

The moment the aircraft landed, you pushed yourself into work. You didn’t give yourself much time to eat or drink, taking on job after job to solve the case. It was tiring, but it kept you hidden from the problems you desperately needed to face. So, you did it without complaining.

The clothes were a big part of the problem. Pulling a black pencil skirt out from the duffel bag after you had settled in the hotel room, you were met with a memory.

Spencer’s arms wrapped around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You both stood in front of a floor-length mirror, gazing at your reflection in the clear glass. He pulled back just enough to twist your head towards him, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

He grinned at the sight of the two of you in the mirror, drinking in how the skirt looked on you.

He groaned. “You look so good,” he whispered, causing you to smile and laugh a little.

“Thank you babe,” you replied, a grin gracing your features. “I needed new clothes for work, figured that this would be okay to wear,” you giggled. Reid nodded violently.

“Wear this and I won’t be able to concentrate on anything for the rest of the day,” he murmured in your ear, causing you to give him a playful shove.

Looking at the skirt now, you wanted to vomit. It was tight in all the wrong places, making your body look bigger than it already was in your eyes. With a sigh, you stuffed it back in your bag and sat on the ground, back against the bed.

You pushed the heels of your palms against your eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears threatening to be released.

You jumped up as a knock sounded at the door. It just turned out to be JJ; she was letting everybody know about the plans for the next day.

Though you could see a small frown grow on her lips, she didn’t say anything about your disheveled appearance.

Most everyone gave up on trying to get you to sleep or take time off once the case had begun. They had tried to force you to take a break, but the team knew that you rarely stopped working until you solved the murder(s) you were assigned to.

However, only Reid seemed to notice the extent of your overworking; this was too much, even for you. But every time he made an attempt to talk to you about something other than work, you would cut him off or divert him back to the task on hand.

You felt as though you were sinking. You had all the lifelines you needed surrounding you, all you had to do was reach out and grab one. Every time you tried, your limbs went heavy and your arms refused to move. You were sinking, and didn’t know how to swim.

After what seemed like far too long, you had narrowed down a suspect for the abductions of the poor women.

It was Hotch’s idea to send you and Morgan in first. According to the profile, he would listen to strong female authority, while Morgan would back you up and make sure you were safe.

The plan worked great, fortunately, and the team was able to save the kidnapper’s most recent victim from a horrible death.

As forensics teams swarmed the scene after handcuffing the predator, the rest of the group and you surveyed the house. The majority of the predictions made were accurate; mind the minor few details scattered here and there.

As you, Reid, and Emily walked through the main bedroom, you felt a sudden bout of weariness come on. You leaned against the wall, trying to control your breathing.

You faintly heard Emily talking about something in the background, but you couldn’t fully make it out. Your eyes closed, and you felt yourself slowly sink to the floor as you lost the little amount of strength you had left in your body.

You became aware of footsteps rushing over to you, the sound of Spencer’s voice growing louder and more frantic.

“Y/n? Y/n can you hear me?” He exclaimed, looking around for help. Eyes focusing on Emily, the last thing you heard was someone screaming, “MEDIC!”.

Your eyes blinked open, slowly adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. You had been in and out of consciousness since the crime scene, remembering vague snippets of strangers’ voices calling out or Spencer’s worried face looming over you.

Looking down at your body, you had been dressed in a white hospital gown, though majority of you was covered in a blanket. Turning your head to the side, you caught sight of Reid dozed off in a chair next to your bed.

“Babe,” you called out, but your throat was dry and hoarse. Clearing your throat, you tried again. “Reid!” You said. He woke with a start, eyes panicked. They softened as they landed on your small smile.

“I- what happened?” You asked him, coughing slightly. A small frown settled on his lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispered, looking hurt.

You gave him a confused look. “Tell you what?” You replied.

He shook his head. “That you haven’t been eating or drinking enough,” his voice cracked slightly, causing your heart to break a little. You gazed into his deep brown eyes, melting as you noticed the pools of tears forming in them.

“I can explain,” you started, but he shook his head.

“The doctors said you had orthostatic hypotension, or a fainting spell caused by starvation, dehydration, and stress,” he murmured. You felt a sigh escape as you looked away from your boyfriend sitting next to you. You couldn’t bear to see the disappointment etched on his face.

“I’m not good enough for you,” you muttered under your breath, not expecting him to hear it.

“What?” He asked, caught off guard.

You turned to face him again. “I’m not good enough for you!” You exclaimed loudly, throwing your hands in the air. “In fact, I’m not good enough for anything. I’m not smart enough to be on the team, I’m not pretty enough to be your girlfriend, and I sure as hell am not good enough to mean anything to anyone.” It was your turn to start crying.

Spencer quickly rose, grasping your hand tightly in his. He looked at you, and you could see the love and pain swirling in his eyes. “Please don’t say that about yourself. Please don’t believe that. You’re so much more than that. You’re the light of my life, the highlight of my day every time I see you. You’re the perfect ray of sunshine our office needs, hell, what the team needs to get through cases. You are perfect, y/n. I love you so much. Please, never believe those things about yourself. You’re perfect just the way you are,” he finished, tears streaming down his face.

Without a second thought, you looped your arm behind his neck and pulled Spencer in for a kiss. His lips were salty, the taste of his tongue mixing with the salty wetness from his tears. You two pulled apart, breathing heavily.

“I love you too,” you whispered, pressing your foreheads together before hugging him tightly.

Slight coughing by the door caused you two to look up. You grinned as you noticed the rest of the team standing by the doorway, bittersweet smiles on their faces. They entered the room, each giving you a hug and scolding you about your current situation. You forgot how much you missed them.

From that day onwards, you worked towards loving yourself. It took a long time, months blending into years before you felt comfortable in the body you had been given. But no matter what, you had your rock. You had Spencer, and you were better because of it.

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