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regrettablewritings · 4 years ago

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Preferences: Guilty Pleasures

Characters: Okoye, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Peter B. Parker, Ahkmenrah

Okoye

Okoye is straightforward and stony upon first impressions. And, admittedly, even afterward. The only real difference is that, if one gets to know her better, they might find shock in the fact that in spite of her appearance, she Dora leader actually likes sweets. However, it’s not sweet things in general that Okoye feels guilty for enjoying: It’s Starbucks.

Starbucks is the antithesis of everything Okoye is associated with: Supremely un-Wakandan, a chain establishment, and overall just not worth the absurd cost. Not to mention superbly unhealthy when compared to the rest of a fighter’s typical diet. But yet you can bet that every time she needs to go out of the country or off-continent, there’s an invasive shout for joy at the possibility that she might be able to get her hands on a Frappucino (followed by an internal scolding).

She can’t even explain exactly why she likes it; there are plenty of good, even healthier sweet things back in Wakanda -- heck, back anywhere else!

But it’s a bit like when someone craves the cheap taste of school pizza over a legit pie cooked in a stone hearth: She just loves the sugary sweetness, the application of whipped cream to an already tooth-rottingly saccharine icy drink, the addition of chocolate. But Bast, she also hates it. But ever since T’Challa practically shoved a grande cup of caramel frappucino into her hands, she hasn’t felt entirely the same.

Against her better judgement, she’s more or less unintentionally tried 45% of the menu drink-wise. She doesn’t particularly care much for the food part of the establishment, though if she should ever find herself in one during the fall, she might indulge in a chunky slice of pumpkin bread under the conviction that it’s healthy enough for being gourd-related. Never mind that it’s just a cinnamon mixture with more sugar than actual pumpkin-derived anything.

Really, of all those mentioned on this list, Okoye is the one who probably feels the most disappointed in herself whenever she indulges in her guilty pleasure: It’s a betrayal to her patriotism, to her dignity, and to her attempts to eat healthy. But damn, if this type of betrayal doesn’t taste so addicting . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

The thing about Lucifer is that it’s actually a bit hard for him to feel any regrets over liking anything; he’s the Devil, after all, so his whole thing is about embracing the things that make you feel good. And even besides that, he’s mostly managed to skate by in his time on Earth by categorizing things as Stuff He Likes, Stuff He Tolerates, Stuff He Doesn’t Bother With, and Stuff Humans Seem to Enjoy But He Doesn’t Quite Get. It’s a tad restricted of a system but you can’t argue with results.

However, just because something is difficult doesn’t mean that it’s impossible. The Devil can, in fact, recognize absurdity in liking certain things. Hence why, to a point, he’s fallen prey to his own bizarre pleasures: The Devil has guilty pleasures, and it’s in stupid YouTube videos, Vine, and TikTok.

After he finally drank the Kool-Aid and got himself a smart phone, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer fell down the rabbit hole that is YouTube prank videos and strange uploads about nonsense and animal humor. It was also only a matter of time before he found himself stumbling into Vine compilations. The Celestial is terrifically mystified by the creative power of humans, managing to tell entire stories and peak comedy in only a span of seven seconds. But he’s also quite loathe to have realized it’s been long defunct by the time he’s discovered it.

He’s even more loathe to find himself making references in his daily life: He has actually quietly blurted out, “I sure hope it does” in response to seeing a Road Work Ahead sign, causing Chloe some confusion (and Lucifer lots of embarrassment). He has referred to a culprit as “Jared, Age 19″. Since discovering Vine, there has been at least one night wherein he and a bed mate were sitting there with barbecue sauce on his tiddies, but that was by sheer coincidence.

But eventually the Vine compilation well dried up, and the inevitable transfer over to TikTok happened. And Luci honestly doesn’t know what to make of TikTok. He would describe it as Vine’s Molly-addicted cousin based on its obsession with dancing, but the dances are so stationary that even that doesn’t seem quite right. The videos on the platform are also much more . . . bizarre. And some of them admittedly trigger a fight-or-flight response in him, to which he always chooses the third option of freezing if only so he can keep watching the train wreck unfold before his eyes.

The trouble with TikTok, he’ll admit to himself, is that it’s not as easy to find iconic content the same way he could with Vine. However, this isn’t to say that he hasn’t found anything worth watching over and over and over again . . .

(Let’s just say the “Wolf Pack Compilation” lives in his head rent-free, and he’s both too amused by it and too overwhelmed by its vibe to try and evict it.)

Dewey Finn

Dewey is . . . a special case. Given that he associates messy living and indulging in one’s pleasure a part of the rocker lifestyle, he’s generally quick to embrace whatever makes him happy. He’s very upfront about his interests and is arguably almost incapable of feeling shame. But it’s in there: Deep down. No, not in himself -- in his Spotify. Specifically, a Spotify account made on an email he never uses because it was made specifically to create this separate, uber secret playlist.

One marked “Actual Musical Bops.”

Dewey hates musicals: They’re cheesy, uninspired, gaudy, ridiculous, totally aimed at chicks with weird fantasies that he could never aspire to, and the music is just overall unimpressive. And yet, somehow, against his music elitist nature, a handful have managed to slip through the cracks. At the very least, a handful of numbers have clawed their way past his defenses and into his ear, where they now live rent-free.

In spite of his best efforts, the problems are that he’s a New Yorker, so it’s inevitable that he hears a song or two; and also that, as an instructor (to wealthy New York tweens whose families can afford frequent tripes to the Great White Way, no less), he’s definitely going to wind up hearing about some shows and their stand-out numbers: Against his will, he knows the lyrics to “My Shot”; he has cried in the secrecy of his apartment to “When I Grow Up”; in the never-necessary reason he needs to remember how many minutes there are in a year, he sings it inside his head; hell, he’s even found himself trying to figure out the electric guitar riff from “The Phantom of the Opera” during his down time.

What’s all the more embarrassing is that, given how he presents himself as a music elitist, there’s just no way he can come back from this if anyone were to know. He has to catch himself when he finds himself humming “Johanna” in the teacher’s lounge. He scowls at himself when he can’t sleep and gives in and starts playing “No One is Alone.” He wants to kick his thick ass every time he realizes he’s excited to have stumbled across a “slime tutorial” on YouTube, this one with better quality than the last. The reason he actually put a password on his phone wasn’t out of privacy like a sensible person would, but out of a need to make sure that no one ever found out that he had downloaded the entire Beetlejuice soundtrack, including jankily-recorded songs that never made it to the official cast recording for whatever reason!

And should anyone ever find out about any of this, Dewey has a plan: “Oh, I’m doing research. I’m studying these songs so I can give the kids a lesson on what not to do as actually competent musicians.”

But the lesson would never actually come. Mainly because he keeps prolonging his “research” . . .

He’s also developed a bit of a soft spot for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic due to some students gushing about it, but he would rather sooner die than ever be associated with the term “brony.”

Peter B. Parker

Peter is at a point where he’s too tired to really care about the idea of guilty pleasures. The way he sees it, there are bigger priorities at stake than worrying about someone finding out about your love of some hokey activity or food or form of entertainment.

Besides, he’s a New Yorker: There’s way weirder stuff for people to just not pay any real attention to. Hence why he thinks nothing of his bizarre eating habits. And no, this isn’t referring to his disastrous appetite: This is about his tendency to eat food with his hands. Foods that, well, he really should probably utilize eating utensils for.

To be fair, this habit has always existed in him in some form or another, especially since, as Spider-Man, he often needs to eat food on the go. But during the time he spent living the life of a depressed bachelor, it came out in full force. On the rare occasion he wasn’t eating a food that deserved to be eaten by hand, he often found himself loathing the idea of doing the dishes afterward. There would be days he’d feel only slightly less depressed; enough to make a box of Kraft Mac n Cheese in the pot, but not enough to avoid cutting out the middle man.

He’s thankful the craptastic apartment wasn’t also see-through because if it were, he’s positive his neighbors would’ve thought they were bearing witness to a man’s breakdown as he wept into a pot of macaroni and cheese, his hand full of the stuff, while wearing a Spider-Man costume. (And, to be fair, they actually would be.)

In addition to this, there were also those nights where he would be prepared to actually tuck in to a plate of spaghetti, only for some crime going on elsewhere in the city to drag him away. By the time he’d return, the plate would’ve been cold and his energy too depleted to want to even dream about cleaning more than he already had to.

The great news is that he’s thankfully done a 180, now able and willing (if begrudgingly) to clean up after himself. But bad news is that this feral man will still eat a fully-loaded baked potato like an apple. In a park. In front of women and children. He’s just too tired to care anymore. He’s aware of the guilt in this as a concept, but he’s also aware that he needs to take whatever happiness he can get out of whatever he does. And if that means eating everything by hand, then so be it!

Ahkmenrah

Funnily enough, Ahkmenrah doesn’t seem to experience much of any shame for enjoying the things most might feel the need to hide: He’s constantly curious and has missed out on a lot over the centuries, so why should he feel bad for wanting to indulge in them? Celebrity gossip is just a more fun version of the palace gossip he’d grown up hearing as a boy; reality TV is like watching a play, but with much more fights, less deaths, and more faulty romances; and sloppy meatball subs are like a feast for a man of his time!

Besides, he’s a king: Kings shouldn’t have to feel embarrassment over what the common folk might think.

And yet . . . It took some time, but eventually Ahkmenrah did experience it: Guilt in his pleasures.

He couldn’t even recall where it had all started. Maybe he was searching for more content to swallow after the most recent season of his new favorite show had ended? Whatever the case, he wound up biting off more than he could chew when he stumbled upon . . . fanfiction.

The adorable yet sad thing is that he didn’t even think anything of it at first. It wasn’t until he brought up a ship he’d invested his last few nights awake exploring on the computer: Nobody knew what the crap he was talking about, so of course he felt the need to explain it. But the more he talked, the more perplexed his friends looked. And the more he could feel his cheeks and ears burn.

Oh, he thought. Is this . . . embarrassment? Is that what this feels like? Oh, this is just foul.

Thankfully, nobody pressured him to keep talking about it, but the poor king sure as heck didn’t feel much of a desire to talk any further about it. But he needed to talk to somebody about his newly acquired “feels” as those online were calling them.

Joining fanfiction-oriented sites was the next obvious step, of course, but he’s experienced mixed feelings about it: On one hand, it’s nice to talk with people who share similar views and excitement about a fictional couple. But on the other, the digital wars that have broken out both disturb him and bring out the worst in him.

Like, of course there are bigger things to deal with than whether or not So-So is better off with Him-Ham, but if you truly think that Blah-Blah and Himhaw are a healthy relationship, then you can go do a service and bury yourself in the desert sands to provide substance to the hungry beetles with your flesh --

Suffice to say, a lot of the guilt in this pleasure seems to come from the fact that Ahk can get a little too emotionally invested if the work is really good. He tries to limit his interactions to commenting and praising certain works, and encouraging content creators. However, he’s also contemplated contributing his own pieces of fiction to the fandom . . .

#okoye #lucifer morningstar imagines #dewey finn #peter b parker imagines #ahkmenrah #okoye imagines #lucifer imagines #dewey finn imagines #ahkmenrah imagines #regrettablewritings #spiderman into the spiderverse imagines #spiderman itsv imagines #spiderman imagines #i tried posting this on my phone and it literally fucking deleted EVERYTHING #anyway @staff: the fuck is up? fix that shit because now i literally cannot post SHIT on my phone from my laptop #preference #preferences

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thethousandyearwitch · 4 years ago

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The Show Must Go On! Chap. 7

- A Youtuber AU you didn’t want and didn’t need -

Hisoka Morrow, italian Makeup Youtuber, enjoys his life in the comfort and occasional drama of his profession. But nothing brings more drama into his life than the eldest son of the Zoldyck fashion magazine empire.

Meanwhile, aspiring australian Twitch Streamer Gon Freecs forms a special bond to a Speedrunner commonly going by "Kil".

Chapter 7 “Montero” out now!

AO3 Link

What could be worse than taking care of a teenage boy who is developing a steady video game addiction?

There was a loud bang coming from the room above the kitchen, followed by laughter and cackling. The boys were in Gons room and tried their hardest to set up the sleeping cod. They refused help, naturally, convinced that they are just as capable, confidence heightened by being in each other’s presence, hyping each other up, and the consumption of their own body weight in burgers.

Another bang. A shriek. More laughter. Mito sighed so deeply that she feared a piece of her soul might have left her.

Taking care of TWO teenage boys who are developing a steady video game addiction.

Her phone vibrated with a new message. Gon had sent her a selfie of himself and Killua on the cot, which seemed to be standing securely. The boys were flexing their arm muscles (or lack thereof) with proud looks on their faces, and the only caption was “#success”. Well, at least they are having fun.

Bellissimo<3: Good morning. I am going to pick you up at 1pm, be dressed by then, and pack your bag for tonight’s show. We are going for a brief detour.

Hisoka stretched out on his bed and squinted at the too-bright phone screen. It was 10 in the morning, though the rooms curtains were drawn shut tightly as a defence against harsh sunlight. A lazy smile spread on his lips.

Hisoka: Are we finally running away together to get married in Las Vegas? I thought you’d never ask~~❤️

Bellisssimo<3: I am trying to reward you for not getting arrested last night.

Bellissimo<3: Do not make me regret this.

Hisoka: I should avoid getting arrested more often ❤️

Bellissimo<3: 1pm Hisoka. See you then.

Hisoka let his phone drop back into pillow-mountain. This was certainly an interesting surprise, and an opportunity that the make up artist wasn’t going to waste. Getting One-on-One time with the Zoldyck was something precious and rare to him. Because Illumi was a rarity himself. In a world of increasingly bland and repetitive personalities, especially in his field of work, Illumi presented a challenge of raw potential. Cold and calculated to the masses, an obedient dog to his family, a revolutionary in his work. Hisoka knew that he must be hiding so much more, and the more walls he encountered with the man, the more he wanted to tear them down with his bare hands. Hisoka hated calling whatever this was a ‘Crush’. Sure, he was affectionate towards the other man, and at this point he couldn’t deny the pleasant twist of his heart whenever they touched. But he didn’t yearn for lazy Sundays in bed together, didn’t want the peaceful domesticity that seemed to be inherited in being a ‘couple’.

What do I want?

Hisoka pulled himself out of bed, and made his way to the shower, determined to abandon this pesky train of thought. There was no point in pondering the unlikely. Though… Illumi had been indulging him. And he was going to indulge him again this day. Maybe he wasn’t the only one getting soft, even if neither would ever admit it. The thought brought another satisfied smirk to his lips as he massaged his favourite shampoo into his scalp.

He wondered how Illumis family would react, hypothetically, if they were to end up a couple. The eldest son of the Zoldycks, not just gay, but in a relationship with a makeup artist who is famous for starting drama whenever possible. They certainly would be a more feared and adored couple than if Illumi were to marry some busty heiress who hooks up with her tennis coach when he’s away.

Silva Zoldyck would drop dead right on the spot if Hisoka would ask him if he should call him dad, he was sure.

He stepped out of the steamy shower and mustered his refreshed face in the mirror. Maybe that’s all he wanted. To form something with Illumi that would be even more powerful than the Zoldyck empire, to make everyone else envy/fear/adore them. They had the capacity and the ability to do so, no doubt.

Or maybe he just wanted to have something he wasn’t supposed to have.

Hisoka shrugged to himself, before he went over his usual beauty routine. Today could prove very interesting.

12:45 pm, Hisoka leaned on his kitchen island, absentmindedly scrolled through social media to beat time. Illumi wasn’t going to be late, but he’s never been early either.

He decided to go with a casual look, fitted beige khakis, with an oxford blue button up, sleeves rolled up just above his elbows, debated with himself on how far unbuttoned would be appropriate-yet-slutty (Top 3 Buttons unbuttoned, was the conclusion). Under his eyes, rested on his cheekbones, he had painted his signature star and teardrop, eyebrows plucked to perfection, and after 10 tries he managed to get a satisfying cat eye done. It was perfectly normal to want to look like hell on wheels while meeting with your friend-partner-associate-crush-insertsatisfactoryterm.

The afternoons were always the worst time to check social media, the calm before the posting-storm that comes during the evening and night. Hisoka had already reached posts that were done last night, a few screenshots taken here and there for future reference and roasting purposes.

Almost fed up with endless scrolling, suddenly it appeared. Hisoka had followed a twitch streamer on twitter recently, some kid who was definitely going to screw up in some point of his career (they always do, when the fame gets to their heads), and didn’t want to miss that mess. “Foxbeargaming”, what the fuck is even a foxbear, he had thought.

He had seen the brat before, in his profile picture and clips of his streams. But that wasn’t the problem with the newly posted selfie.

The problem was that he also recognized the second brat in it. Remembered the way Illumi boasted about his talented little brother, the same wild hair and blue eyes as he showed him a picture of the kid. Killua Zoldyck is currently in the middle of nowhere Australia, and his family most likely doesn’t know about it.

Oh, this will be delicious.

Hisokas day had been upgraded from surprisingly interesting to extremely entertaining if everything were to go smoothly. Immediately revealing to Illumi before their date that his little brother is out in the desert trying to tame himself a boyfriend wouldn’t do either of them good. Let it simmer, let it fester, keep Illumi away from his phone the rest of the day.

Lost in his scheming, he just barely noticed that the clock hit 1pm. He grabbed his bag from the floor and stuffed his phone into his back pocket before he headed out the door.

Hisoka wasn’t sure what he expected, yet he was taken aback by the sight in front of him as he exited the apartment complex.

Illumi leaned leisurely against a black sports car, as if that were his only purpose in life. His sleek hair was tied into a neat ponytail, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Hisoka let his eyes take in every detail of him. Peridot green jeans, fashionably washed out, paired with a simple grey polo shirt, the collar popped open just enough to reveal more neck than usual.

“Are you waiting on an invitation?” Illumi didn’t sound as agitated as he probably intended, giving Hisoka only more reason to push his luck.

“I was thinking about whether I want to pounce on you now or later.” He approached the other man, who in turn straightened up his posture in defence. But instead of any hostile movements, Hisoka simply took Illumis hand, and bought it to his lips for a caste kiss. “But I’d rather not spoil our date this early.”

Illumi pulled his hand away, though maybe with a second’s hesitation. “Not happening, also not a date. Get in the car before I change my mind.”

The car was equipped with fabric seats, which Hisoka was grateful for in the Italian heat. “Maybe I should film one of those Vlogs today, what do you think of the title ‘Partner takes me away for secret date’?”

“What about ‘Multimillionaire kicked me out of a speeding car’?”

“Touché.” Now Hisoka was sure that his companion had to be in a good mood, despite what he’d claim, he’d never go along with his jokes if he were feeling neutral-to-pissed otherwise. He rolled his shoulders back into the seat comfortably, golden eyes fixated on the way that Illumis elegant pale hands wrapped around the steering wheel. “I didn’t know you can drive, considering you always have someone to do it for you.”

“I prefer it over flying, and I still consider myself a better driver than half of our staff.”

“I’m sure you’re great at handling stick shift as well.”

“Of co-“Illumi pressed his lips together in sudden annoyance, he most definitely had caught onto Hisokas smirk as he waited for an answer. “That is repulsive.” That prompted the makeup artist to break out into self-satisfied snickering.

“No clue what you’re talking about, Tesoro.” This earned him an eye roll, and silence as the car made its way through mostly empty streets. Hisokas eyes fell onto Illumis phone that rested on the console of the car. “Ah, I’m sure mister multimillionaire has Spotify Premium, right? Let me turn on some music.”

“Use your own phone.”

“I ran out of data volume. Are you that afraid I’ll discover your disastrous music taste?” His teasing smirk was met with another, more defeated eyeroll and a sigh.

“Don’t play anything trashy. The passcode is 0707.” After a questioning silence, he added “It’s Killuas birthday.”

Hisoka replied with an appreciative purr, before he started scrolling through the others music library. No personal playlists, not even a profile picture attached to his account. He was almost offended at the man’s lack of care for something as deeply personal as ones Spotify account, something that surely could tell a lot about a person. “Tchaikovsky? I’m not sure if I am impressed or utterly bored. Oh-“ His eyes stopped on a familiar album cover. “Maybe you’re not a lost cause after all, dear.”

A button press later, and the familiar opening sounds to Tame Impalas “Currents” played. The faintest trace of a smile curled on Illumis lips, barely noticeable, but Hisoka wanted to burn it into his mind anyway. Never mind that he took the brief distraction to turn the others phone onto silent mode. No unnecessary distractions.

It took the rest of the album until Illumi pulled the car into the exit towards the nature reserve near Lago di Bracciano, the last notes of “New Person, Same old Mistakes” dying together with the engine as they parked.

Hisoka stretched at the warm sunlight that caressed his skin when he exited the vehicle. Birds sang happily in the trees that lined the path around the large lake, and the only other person in sight was an elderly woman walking a small white dog. As the second car door shut close, he turned around with a pleased smile that showed off his shining teeth. “I never took you for the kind to take afternoon strolls.”

His friend-or-whatever set a relaxed pace onto the path and looked out onto the deep blue water. “I can’t sit around the hotel room the entire day, can I? And Rome is crawling with sweaty tourists and noisy journalists.”

“So you wanted to get some quality time outside?” Hisoka absentmindedly ran his tongue over his own sharp incisors.

“Correct.” Illumi didn’t seem to notice, or at least ignored, the predatory gesture.

“With me.”

He missed a beat before a simple, “It seemed appropriate.”.

This earned him an appreciative purr, before the men walked in silence along the large lake. Italy still wouldn’t reach its heights of temperatures this time of year, but any breeze was still a welcomed change from the rising humidity and sting of the sun. Hisoka wondered how much the others pale skin would change if he’d expose himself for a bit longer to the sun, if he’d immediately burn up in red, or if he’d start to tan, even just the faintest bit. He’d definitely look more alive, less like a puppet on invisible strings.

They continued to walk in a comfortable silence next to each other, took in the different sounds and sights of nature and the others presence, until eventually they reached the border of one of the shore towns. Beautiful stone buildings climbed the side of a smaller hill, only interrupted by greenery sprouting up between them. The main path was lined with flower shops, cafes, and Gelateria, whose smells mixed into a pleasant sweetness in the air. But one store in particular stood out. It wasn’t super flashy, it could have been found in any city and any street, but Hisoka knew this one from memory.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the others hand, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“Excuse me-“ Before he could free his hand, Hisoka intertwined their fingers and pulled him closer.

“Let me treat you to something as well, I promise you won’t regret it,amore.” As his flaming eyes were met with a wrinkled nose, the sunshades Illumi were as not-telling as his eyes, he added “If you do regret it, I’ll gladly let you drown me right here.”

There was hesitation as the other mans wrist twitched against his hold. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

The absence of a struggle was still taken as accepting whatever had gotten him so excited, and thus Illumi was quickly pulled and seated outside the small café. Hisokas attitude had changed from a lazy yet scheming happiness, to pure, unfiltered excitement. It became almost impossible for him to sit still, he rapidly tapped his fingernails against the small glass table, until a waitress (in her mid-40s, he assumed) stepped out. She handed the men a small, leather bound menu, though both were immediately snatched by Hisoka and held back towards her.

“Non sarà necessario. Ordineremo la Cheesecake alla fragola. Grazie.”

“Certamente.” The woman replied with a smile, before she retreated into the shop.

“Cheesecake?” Illumi asked with a raised eyebrow, he had taken off his sunglasses by now and placed them on the table.

Hisoka tutted, “Not any Cheesecake, dear, it is the best Cheesecake you will ever have. I will have it at my wedding, funeral, and every occasion in between that.”

“I take it you’ve been here before.”

“When I had just moved to Rieti, I’d come here almost every weekend, though I unfortunately stopped when weekends became workdays as well.” He considered carefully how much more he was willing to share about that time of his life with the other, though the decision was taken off him as the waitress approached with two plates, each adorned with a generous slice of cheesecake, topped with strawberry slices and strawberry jam dripping off it.

His jaw clenched in anticipation as he watched Illumi take the first bite of the cake, reminiscent of all the rituals he’d do for him whenever he visited. It felt degrading to admit that he wanted to impress and gain the approval of the Zoldyck, but not degrading enough to stop the attention seeking behaviour.

A bite. Some careful chewing. Averted eyes because Hisoka was staringbut he did not care. He swallowed.

Illumi didn’t look at him as he spoke, seemingly engrossed in studying the décor of the shop. But his eyes betrayed him, Hisoka swore he saw something within the dark orbs glisten and flash to life. He didn’t know people could smile only with their eyes, but Illumi continued to be different in the most intoxicating way. “It’s… really good.”

Hisoka tried hard not to pick up his train of thought from the morning, tried not to think about what he wanted from Illumi or a relationship, and he especially tried not to think about the growing urge to leap across the table at that very moment to kiss him until their lips were sore. Instead, he started to eat his own cake, and failed to supress his sharpened smile.

They ate mostly in silence, safe for Hisokas muffled crazed snickering, and ordered espresso to chase down the thick cake.

“Hey, let’s play a game. What is wrong with that woman over there?” Hisoka pointed at a blonde who rested against a railing near the lake.

Illumi seemed to consider for a second whether he even wanted to play a weird game like that, before he stopped mid espresso-sip. “Ah. Those red heels are obviously spray-painted on.”

“Bingo~! It’s super obvious, right? You can still see the black shine through.”

“I’m more concerned about the uneven stitching on her shirt. Either she did that herself, or she has gotten scammed.”

Somehow that conversation triggered them to analyse the fashion choices of every stranger they encountered on their way back to the car with increasingly devilish tones. Illumi Zoldyck was a surprisingly good gossiper, and Hisoka filed that fact into the growing corner of his brain that he reserved just for him.

In the car, Illumi informed him they would just head to his hotel room to get dressed for the show, and then head there together. Any attempt at a joke about spending hotel-room-time wisely was, expectedly, cut off.

Illumi had never focused on the road this much in his entire life. He tried to be grateful that they had managed to get ready for the show in his hotel room without any major incidents, but now Hisoka was seated next to him again, wearing the suit he made for him. He looked good, annoyingly so. Naturally, Illumi wouldn’t grant him the satisfaction of telling him that though. He had indulged the man plenty enough for that day already and was holding back from chastising himself for it.

Last night had made him soft, Illumi decided. A brief waver of confidence and self-preservation that made him want to spend one-on-one time with Hisoka, in what may have resembled friendship to an outsider.

But his head was clearer now, cleansed from whatever foolishness had overcome him – the image of his mother recovering from a coughing fit and regaining her composure crept itself into his mind. Unrelated, he thought, though cleared his throat regardless.

“Machi says the crowd tonight is dreadful. Do you think she is just saying that to keep me from going~?” Hisoka tapped his long nails against the screen of his phone. Machi was a model they both have worked with in the past, though she was no where close to a breakthrough. A pretty face, objectively spoken, though smaller than most models, and the personality of royalty about to be executed. Do they always text each other?

“She’s there as well today?” He tried not to sound bitter. He didn’t have a reason to be bitter.

“Mhm, she’s modelling for a friend of hers it seems, though all the examples she sent me looked like someone with a priest-kink designed them, so it doesn’t hurt as much that she didn’t hire me as her artist.”

A moment of silence. “I see.” Illumi was not going to indulge Hisoka even more by inquiring about the nature of his relationship to the woman. It did not concern him; it wasn’t relevant to him or his work.

“Illumi?” Hisoka leaned over in his seat, golden eyes piercing into the side of his face.

“Yes, Hisoka?” Just now he noticed that he had been clenching his jaw uncomfortably.

“Are you jealous of Machi?” He didn’t need to look to know that Hisoka was smiling from one ear to the other, voice dripping with joy. He wasn’t going to look at Hisoka.

“You are insane. Why would I be jealous of her? I pity the girl, still having to work as a favour for acquaintances.”

Predatory eyes continued to drill into him, and a dangerous purr escaped the man, “Is that so?”.

“Yes, don’t be ridiculous.” They pulled into the valet line.

“Then you surely won’t mind that she’ll meet us in the entrance hall, wonderful!”

Illumi shouldn’t mind. It should be perfectly fine that instead of spending the evening alone with Hisoka, a good-looking young woman with an unclear relationship to him would meet them. He definitely couldn’t be jealous; it would be irrational and yet-

He threw the keys to the car at the valet and grabbed the number-marker without a word. His face wouldn’t give it away to others, that he was practically fuming, but Hisoka seemed to take pleasure in the subtle way that Illumis facial features tightened. “I heard jealousy can give you wrinkles~” Hisoka whispered cheekily as they approached the venue entrance, rows of reporters and interviewers lined at the sides, even more so than at the opening day before.

“You must have a lot of experience with that.” He hissed in reply and straightened his posture as they passed the crowd, mostly reporters who desperately tried to take pictures of attendees. Pictures, Interviews, all loathsome cries for attention that Illumi has always tried to avoid as much as possible without damaging the families reputation. He looked down the carpeted entrance and spotted the young woman known as Machi Komacine, clothed in a painfully tight black dress adorned with rosaries draped around her waist like belts, her messy pink hair pulled into a high ponytail. Her posture signalled boredom, but her eyes screamed murder.

Illumi was not a man who easily feared anyone, especially not a woman who stands at 5’2 proud; But he also was not necessarily thrilled to approach her. As he tried to hiss something in Hisokas direction again, something about not having much time to chat with their acquaintance due to meeting a client, he noticed: The other man had stayed behind, and was now busy posing for numerous cameras. Their eyes met, and with a mischievous grin, Hisoka held his hand out to beckon Illumi closer. For Pictures. Together.

Take pictures with Hisoka together in a public appearance that will most definitely set the gears of the rumour mill in motion; Or approach Machi alone and run the risk of uncomfortable conversation about our respective relationships to Hisoka?

He looked back at Machi, whose eyes met his instantly with a raised eyebrow. Fucking Hell-

Illumi made his way back to Hisoka, casually disregarded the hand that was held out to him and positioned himself as practiced – left arm leisurely to the side, right arm three quarters across his front. Not too strict, but not too relaxed either. In contrast, Hisoka had his left hand in the pocket of his suit, his right hand rested on Illumis shoulder as if were the most natural thing in the world. Journalists started to yell even more for their attention now, asking pesky questions that he tried to ignore, telling them to stand closer to each other, the likes. He kept the façade of his neutral face through the blinding flashes intact, even as Hisoka snaked his arms from his shoulder around his waist. “Do you wish for a public execution?”

“It looks better for the pictures~”

Illumi brushed a few strands of hairs behind his shoulder and used the motion to glance back to where Machi was waiting, her steady gaze on the two of them. “It’s rude to let her wait.”

“How considerate you are!” Hisoka snickered. “I know you aren’t jealous, caro, but I’d still like to reassure you of something.”

“And what’s that?”

“Machi and I look for, how should I say, very different things in a partner.” He tugged at Illumi waist and pulled him closer. “She’s looking for women and I am not.”

“Oh.” Illumi continued to look at the reporters cooing for their attention, as he tried not to think of the warm hand on his waist that felt searing hot and- Wait.

“OH.” He turned in Hisokas hold to properly look at him, who in turned grinned like the cat that ate the canary, then he looked back to Machi, and suddenly he felt stupid, which he didn’t experience a lot.

“Feeling relieved, even though you definitely weren’t jealous?”

“I think they got enough pictures.”

Illumi heard Hisokas snickering trail behind him as he made his way down the entrance. Machis eyes met his again, hands steady on her hips. Up closer now, he could observe the details of her dress, white seams stitched into crucifixes that crept up the sides, and the number “3” painted on every bead of the rosaries. It was cleanly executed, but Illumi was confident in the superiority of his own work.

“Miss Komacine.” He extended his hand to her, which she shook half-heartedly.

“Illumi. I’d like to get to business talk right away, so I don’t have to look at this clown longer than necessary.”

“Business talk?”

The young woman lit a cigarette for herself and shot a glare to Hisoka. “I assume you didn’t tell him I wanted to speak with him?” This granted her only a shrug and a smile from the man. “Fine, whatever. Illumi, I want to model for your next line, it would proof beneficial for both of us.”

“I don’t deal in women’s fashion. Furthermore, I do not see how I’d gain benefits from having you work for me.” Finally, a topic he felt comfortable to speak about, even it was only to criticize the woman for her awful attempt at business.

“I don’t mind wearing a suit, you should be at least competent enough to make smaller sizes, right?” She stepped closer to push a sharp index finger against his chest. “And about those benefits; Having me model for you would give me more exposure from a mainstream crowd, and thus exposure for my group. You would gain exposure to a wider audience of underground fashion-following, that isn’t influenced by your family’s name, meaning you could manifest a name for yourself. Unless you prefer being ‘a Zoldyck’ forever.”

The nerve. The audacity. Illumi considered just calling her a presumptuous cunt and leaving with his pride intact, but Machi looked like the kind of woman who knew how to slice car tires and break-wires.

A manicured hand curled around his shoulder, and Hisoka pushed himself between Machi and him. “What could be better than this; My two favourite people in this world, getting along, talking friendly business. Unfortunately, dear Machi, there’s some people inside that are dying to meet us tonight, so we’ll catch you later~”

Before he could object, Illumi was pushed through the entrance of the venue. The large runway was occupied by a high-end brand that premiered their women’s gala collection, mood-lighting engulfed the rest of the room, rhythmic beats of low music drowned out most of the talking crowd.

“Be a darling and just let her offer simmer a little. Machi can be very scary when she’s mad, and not in the way I enjoy.” Hisoka purred closer to his ear.

“Did you know she was going to ask?”

“What if I did?”

A waiter offered them drinks on a tray, and Illumi leisurely grabbed a glass of champagne.

“What does that even mean, ‘a Zoldyck’, as if it is something bad.”

“Don’t wreck your pretty head over it, you know how women are.” Hisoka laughed, and Illumi wasn’t sure how serious he meant that, considering that personally he had no idea how women are, and after newest revelations, neither did Hisoka.

But through the course of the night, Illumi couldn’t get it out of his head. He pretended not to notice how people approached Hisoka, addressed him by his name, first or full name, and talked with him about the content he has created, complimented on his most recent videos and looks. And he pretended not to notice how people approached him, addressed him only by his last name, and asked about the family business. “Mr. Zoldyck, are you going to write an article about this line?” “Mr. Zoldyck, about the next issue-“ “Mr. Zoldyck, tell my greetings to your father.”

No word about his own collection he had premiered. No one even uttered his first name.

He was ‘a Zoldyck’. Nothing more, nothing less.

“If looks could kill, we’d be ankle deep in a blood bath by now.” Hisoka snaked an arm around Illumis waist again and rested his hand on the tip of his hip. The designer took a long sip of the bitter champagne, casually slapped away the offending hand, and kept his dark eyes fixed on the crowd. “Still pouting because Machi was being a bully?”

“I am not pouting.”

“And you weren’t jealous either, got it~”

An eye roll, followed by “I have a headache, what’s the time anyway?” Illumi tried to reach for his phone in his pocket, though before he could grab it, Hisoka took hold of his wrist. They locked eyes, and even in the dim lighting of the venue, Illumi saw something wild glisten in those amber eyes. “Let’s leave, together, to my place.”

“Very subtle, Hisoka. I am not going to-”

“Indulge me, Tesoro, I want to show you something.” Determined to blame it on the repulsive atmosphere that had build itself up at the fashion show, Illumi let himself be swept away by Hisoka for the second time that day. The thought of getting away from noisy reporters and cockroaches of the industry who only knew him as the eldest Zoldyck.- former Heir to the empire, was pleasant enough, yet he also didn’t have to be alone and actively think about his reputation, name, and being a ‘lapdog’, technically a win-win situation.

The drive back to the apartment was oddly quiet, despite Hisokas prior excitement. The car tore through the dark night primarily in silence, only accented by the ‘The Velvet Underground’ album they agreed on after scrolling through Hisokas bizarre Spotify library. It definitely wasn’t the kind of music he was used to from the home he was raised in, didn’t fit between the classical music his mother used to play before her headaches made it impossible and the obscene noise music that Killua would play to trigger the same headaches.

“Could you check my messages for me?”

Hisoka hummed in response and grabbed the phone, manicured nails tapping on the screen, before dropping it unceremoniously back into the cup-holders. “Batteries dead.”

“That can’t be, I charged it before I went out this morning, the battery is supposed to hold for a minimum of 72 hours when idle.”

“Your dainty British batteries sometimes give out under Italian heat, invest in better engineering, and charge it at my place for now.”

“…This will better be worth the trouble.”

The streets of Rieti were expectantly empty, and Illumi parked the car right in front of the apartment (Was it a legal parking spot? Unlikely. But parking fines barely matter when seemingly half the world knows your families name.)

The stairs, the door, the entrance, Illumi knew all of these things about Hisokas apartment. “What is there to show me?”

“Patience. Come here~” Hisoka opened the doors to the balcony, white drapes gently tossed in the fresh breeze. The Zoldyck followed- with sceptical hesitation, but followed nonetheless.

He rested his hands on the railing, eyes turned sky-wards, a few strands of hair upset by the wind.

“If you took me here to just look at the stars, I’m not sure which one of us is the bigger fool.”

“Right, if we wanted to look at soon-to-be dead stars, we could have stayed at the show. But we’re not here for them. They are insignificant, always there to look at until one day they vanish and are forgotten. The real star of the show is over there.” He pointed a long nail at the night sky, and Illumi tried to follow where it pointed.

“The moon? Really?”

“Close, but also mundane and boring. Here- “Before Illumi could react, the strange man had placed their heads next to each other and started to correct Illumis position with a pointed yet gentle grip on his chin. “Look straight ahead.”

Just a little bit off to the left of the moon shone a star brighter than anything else, for a moment Illumi felt ridiculous for missing it.

“It’s Venus. Among all these long dead stars, she’s ever present, stands out the most, and is a rare sight to behold.”

“You took me away from the show to gaze at other planets?” Illumi turned towards the other man, suddenly all too aware of how close they were standing once again.

“I took you away from the show because no one there is capable of understanding your true potential. The way everyone there only sees you as an extension of your family is so infuriating, that it makes me want to ruin all their hopeless little dreams right in front their pitiful faces.” With a swift movement Hisoka had pinned the designer against the railing of the balcony. “You could crush all these people under your heel and make them beg for forgiveness. And there’s nothing I’d rather see than that.”

“I don’t need to make anyone beg, if I want something, I get it. It’s always been like that.” A cold thumb traced the line of his sharp chin, followed by a dark chuckle, and all of a sudden Illumi felt fatigued, all air leaving his lungs. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembers his mother recalling symptoms like that. It’s a sickness, nothing more nothing less.

“You get it because you’re a pretty show dog held on a short leash by your family.”

Fucking lapdog. The weight on his chest feels like it could crush his organs any second.

“I’m not asking you to bite the hand that feeds you. But I’d give everything to see what you could do if you were free of restraints.”

Feeling like he needed to hold onto anything, Illumi grabbed onto the back of the other man’s head, fingers buried in wild hair. “And why would you care so much? If you’re just trying to rile me up, there’s ways that don’t make me want to throw you off the balcony and watch your mangled body struggle for life.”

“It’s because you fascinate me, Illumi. You’re my Venus in a sea of dying stars. I want to observe you in all your glory as you outshine everyone else, in your full potential.”

“Who says I won’t crush you as well?” His fingers grasped harder on a few strands of hair. Everything in his body felt wrong, the way his skin was freezing all over, but searing hot wherever he made contact with the other man, the suffocating weight on his chest increased by the second, and in the back of his mind something about sickness echoes again.

They locked eyes, and just then Illumi noticed how close they truly were, Hisokas hot breath falling onto his lips.

And he should have pushed him away.

Should have slapped him, insulted him like the sorry maggot he was.

But he felt weak and sick and so cold, and Hisoka radiated pure heat.

Their lips met, softer than expected of either of them, and Illumi wondered if this is what it feels like to be saved from drowning.

A pleasant warmth seeped into his body, and his lungs felt weightless, like he could breathe for the first time in his life.

Hisoka kissed like each touch might be the last, and Illumi let himself be guided as he wanted, eventually wrapping his arms around the others neck, eager to steal as much of this intoxicating heat as possible.

The man kissed along his jawline, stopping just barely below his ear. “Stay here tonight, cuore mio.”

And Illumi placed a kiss to his temple, as gentle as a man who was never been taught gentleness with people could manage. “Let’s go inside.”

#hxh fanfic #hisoillu #killugon #hxh #hisoka marrow #illumi zoldyck #killua zoldyck #gon freecss #mito freecss #machi komachine #fanfic #fanfiction #I continue to have the worst update schedule known to man <3

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theycallmegothboy · 4 years ago

Note

1-100 >:DDDD REVENGE!!!

FELIXXXXXXXXXXXX >:(( 1. Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? -spotify 2. is your room messy or clean? -it’s pretty messy i guess 3. what color are your eyes? -blue and grey

4. do you like your name? why? -yeah it’s fine 5. what is your relationship status? -single 6. describe your personality in 3 words or less -certified intrusive thot 7. what color hair do you have? -brown and rn it’s red 8. what kind of car do you drive? color? -i dont have a car 9. where do you shop? -hot topic, goodwill, target 10. how would you describe your style? -comfy emo 11. favorite social media account -of mine, probably discord or youtube 12. what size bed do you have? -twin >:(( 13. any siblings? -i have 1.5 brothers 14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? -probably vancouver, idk canada seems lit 15. favorite snapchat filter? -i like the one with devil horns and a tail but its cute 16. favorite makeup brand(s) -i dont wear makeup 17. how many times a week do you shower? -i used to shower every day, but i dont do anything that gets me dirty so like maybe 3 times but if i leave the house then i shower 18. favorite tv show? -stranger things 19. shoe size? -8 or 9 20. how tall are you? -5′6 with shoes >:(( 21. sandals or sneakers? -sneakers wtf 22. do you go to the gym? -lol no 23. describe your dream date -making some pie or something together and then eating the pie and then sitting on some rooftop looking at stars 24. how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? -quite a bit actually but i’m saving up for a phone lol so soon it will be like maybe 10 dollars lmao 25. what color socks are you wearing? -not wearing socks but the ones i had earlier were white (ankle length) 26. how many pillows do you sleep with? -just one but it sucks 27. do you have a job? what do you do? -NO BUT IM TRYING TO GET A JOB BUT THE FUCKIN PEOPLE THERE ARE GHOSTING ME AND WONT REPLY TO MY EMAILS SO LIKE SBJHBJS 28. how many friends do you have? -like 4 lmao 29. whats the worst thing you have ever done? -idk nothing super bad but i do a lot of small shit that makes me feel guilty when i realize what i did 30. whats your favorite candle scent? -juniper rosewood 31. 3 favorite boy names -leo, clay, charlie 32. 3 favorite girl names -ivy, uh... idk thats all ive got 33. favorite actor? -no clue 34. favorite actress? -no clue 35. who is your celebrity crush? -not a celeb but i’d smash danny phantom 36. favorite movie? -nightmare before christmas or edward scissorhands 37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? -no, but my fav book is probably the prince and the pauper? idk 38. money or brains? -CASH MONEYYYY jk probably brains but if your entire personality is being “smart” like fuck off lmao 39. do you have a nickname? what is it? - a bunch of people call me son (see #49, #100), some call me rat, dumdum, goth boy

40.how many times have you been to the hospital? -just once i think when i was birthed. i also went once with my brother cause he kicked some scissors i left out on the floor and it sliced his toe the fuck open and he needed stitches and i watched him get the stitches and almost passed out :/ 41. top 10 favorite songs -please dont make me do this i dont have it in me 42. do you take any medications daily? -yea i take 20mg of vyvanse but i need to get it raised to 30 cause 20 is Not Enough 43. what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) -i got some dry fuckin skin yall dont even know 44. what is your biggest fear? -it depends. the dark is a pretty constant one though 45. how many kids do you want? -like 2 or 3 eventually 46. whats your go to hair style? -in my face, looking stupid 47. what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) -it’s pretty small 48. who is your role model? -i dont fuckin know lmao 49. what was the last compliment you received? - “i belive in you, my son, you’re an amazing human being“ (same friend mentioned in #100, not actually a parent of mine) 50. what was the last text you sent? -”no it’s a raccoon“ YOU GET NO CONTEXT LMAO 51. how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? -i dont think i ever hardcore believed in him, maybe i did though i remember sleeping under the tree one christmas eve waiting for him but i was like “oh yeah that makes sense“ i guess 52. what is your dream car? -i honestly dont give a shit as long as it actually fucking works 53. opinion on smoking? -cigarettes? fuck no that’s nastyyy. weed? that’s fine i guess but wait till you’re like 18. 54. do you go to college? -no. am sophomore n highschool 55. what is your dream job? -musician/palentologist 56. would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? -fuck the suburbs lmao, but also im tired of rural, so like.. semi urban?? 57. do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? -no but i take the little soaps >:)) 58. do you have freckles? -yes 59. do you smile for pictures? -awkwardly, yes 60. how many pictures do you have on your phone? -dont have a phone but i have like 12 on my computer currently. 4 are of me, the rest are of my cat or random shit 61. have you ever peed in the woods? -yes 62. do you still watch cartoons? -cartoons these days kinda suck but like if they were good fuck yeah i would like gravity falls can come hang yknow? 63. do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? -i had nuggets from mcdonalds today so i guess them? i dont really care 64. Favorite dipping sauce? -i got sweet and sour but i dont like it that much. that schezuan sauce was great 65. what do you wear to bed? -wouldnt you like to know? ;)) 66. have you ever won a spelling bee? -NO ive only been in two. the first one i misspelled the word “turmoil“ cause i had never heard it before and the second one i spelled the word “owed“ as “ode“ cause i was thinking like ode to joy and then i felt like a big Fool afterwards :(( 67. what are your hobbies? -lol what hobbies 68. can you draw? -i am physically able to draw, but not well, no 69 (haha). do you play an instrument? -yeah i play a few 70. what was the last concert you saw? -i saw Chicago in either georgia or tennessee i cant remember in like 2016 71. tea or coffee? -hot coffee, iced tea. NOT the other way around. (i love both though) 72. Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? -starbucks 73. do you want to get married? -sure why not 74. what is your crush’s first and last initial? -dont have a crush 75. are you going to change your last name when you get married? -idk maybe 76. what color looks best on you? -i dont know but i wear black a lot and that’s pretty dope 77. do you miss anyone right now? -yeah 78. do you sleep with your door open or closed? -closed 79. do you believe in ghosts? -on the fence. not 100% “oh my god look at these gHoSt oRbS i need to sage my house!!!“ but i accept that there’s some things i wont understand about the world and that i have no answers to. i wouldnt be surprised if there are, and i wouldnt be surprised if there aren’t. 80. what is your biggest pet peeve? -whatever my adhd decides i viscerally hate with a firey passion right at that moment 81. last person you called -my brother (the 1 of the 1.5 from #13 and the one who sliced his toe in #40) 82. favorite ice cream flavor? -chocolate is dope 83. regular oreos or golden oreos? -regular double stuff. if you say golden, mint, peppermint, or thin oreos i’m gonna have to euthanize you, i dont make the rules. 84. chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? -rainbow cause it’s prettier 85. what shirt are you wearing? -queen shirt from hot topic 86. what is your phone background? -i didnt get a phone between question 60 and now but my computer one is some mountains with the moon in the background 87. are you outgoing or shy? -really depends on who i’m around 88. do you like it when people play with your hair? -YES FUCK AAAAAAA (this girl played with my hair literally once in middle school and i was like oh shit and i had a crush on her until the end of middle school true story,,, so ashley if you’re out there-) 89. do you like your neighbors? -to the left they’re fine and their dog is nice but idk what happened to the horses so that’s sus but that’s where our cat came from so they can hang guess, behind me they’re fine but their boys are loud, to the right they’re fine, and even further to the right are the dope neighbors and waaaaaaaaaay far to the right is a llama and he’s dope as hell 90. do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? -whenever the fuck i remember to/have the energy 91. have you ever been high? -i dont think so but i wouldnt put it past myself 92. have you ever been drunk? -not that i can remember, no 93. last thing you ate? -sloppy joe from a can 94. favorite lyrics right now -”not gonna waste my life, cause i’ve been fucked up“ 95. summer or winter? -fall. fuck you 96. day or night? -night but i like it when it’s actually night and it doesnt get dark at like 4 fucking pm cause that makes me depressed 97. dark, milk, or white chocolate? -dark is good, milk is fine, white is only suitable for fancy stripes on chocolate covered strawberries 98. favorite month? -i vibe with september 99. what is your zodiac sign -sagittarius (was almost a scorpio but i was holding out >:))) 100. who was the last person you cried in front of? -in person, my mom like 6 months ago, on a discord call, my friend (i love you by the way, you’re the best,,, i dont think he has tumblr but im just putting it out there) like a month or so ago. i hate crying in front of people, i turn into such a hyperventilating snot monster which is not suitable for human gaze and thats the real tea :/

felix this took like 2 hours of my life i will never get back i hate you and i hope you’re happy with what you’ve done <3 <3

also anyone who wants to stalk me, enjoy this information that im handing to you on a silver platter :)) <3

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rendreamafterdark · 6 years ago

Text

4:20pm (m)

— lee jeno

** mature content; piss kink, unprotected sex, shower sex, oral female receiving, oral male receiving, mention of drugs, swearing, crazy stuff. **

Word Count: 3k

- Genre: Smut, Humor, CRACK, Fluff, (if you squint) Stoner!jeno AU

- Teaser: You borrow weed from the hottest stoner at university, but you don’t have the proper funds to pay him back.

you gently tug at the roots of your hair as you stare at the notes in front of you. with it being december, finals week was just around the corner. you were stressed as fuck about it, to say the least. stress was consuming you whole and you needed some sort of reliever. you hadn’t smoked weed since high school, but boy did some of the devil’s lettuce sound good right now.

“dammit,” you muttered to yourself, “everyone keeps telling me not to talk to him. i might just have to now.”

the only problem with getting the weed was who you were getting it from.

lee jeno. the one everyone warns you about. apparently he started smoking weed since he was in the womb. he smokes so much, everyone’s surprised he made it this long.

“fuck it,” you muttered, grabbing your coat and heading out the door. despite all the bad rumours, he sold that gud shit; you needed to meet him.

you took a deep breath as you approached the skate park. you could see jeno fail at landing a simple ollie from a mile away, strangely, his friends cheering like he really did sumn.

“woah, that shit was dope, my guy,” na jaemin said, clapping jeno on the back. jeno smiled, lazily, bro hugging the shorter boy.

“aight kids. weed is on me tonight, since y’all liked it so much. gotta show my homies some love, no homo tho,” jeno said, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. jaemin smirked, looking back at donghyuck and renjun with knowing eyes. being ‘friends’ with the best drug dealer on campus had its rewards.

even though, jeno was said to be somewhat of a ‘college bad boy’, after observing a couple minutes of him with his ‘friends’, you could tell he was a fucking loser. maybe, getting weed wouldn’t be as terrifying as you had imagined.

“hey, jeno,” jaemin whispers, tapping jeno on the shoulder, “looks like we have some company.” jeno’s crescent like eyes turned cold as he surveyed the area before landing on you.

“the fuck do you want, bitch?” jeno’s eyes glared at you, intensely, making your knees tremble. he may have been a complete wet wipe, but man was he intimidating. you swallow your nerves and continue strutting towards the loser, feigning confidence.

“the name’s y/n, and a little birdie told me that you had the gud kush, brutha.” he narrowed his eyes at you.

“well they weren’t wrong, but what’s it to you?” jeno asks, his eyes scanning you from head to toe.

“well, i was wondering if you could spare some of dat nug…” jeno immediately turned his back to you, shaking his head in utter disbelief. you were trying to seem cool but he obviously wasn’t buying it.

“no, no fucking way. nuh uh,” you groaned with despair. you needed that shit more than anything right now.

“c’mon, jeno. why not?” you whined, grabbing onto his arm. “pretty, please! i’ll do anything.”

“you got any money? my shit premium. it ain’t cheap,” he responds, finally turning back to look at you.

“well not at the moment. we’re college students. i can barely afford to eat,” you grimaced, “i can pay you back soon though, i promise,” you plead, staring straight into his eyes with a convincing look.

“how do i know you can actually handle this kush? i can’t just give it out to anyone,” he whispers in your ear, almost sinister. you gulp, nerves taking over once again.

“i can prove it,” you whisper back, surprising not only yourself, but also jeno.

“aight, lemme light this sassafras up, shawty,” he spoke, grabbing a blunt and lighter out of his saggy ass obsidian cargo pants. you cup your hands over the flame as he lights the blunt, blocking it from the wind. you were expecting him to pass the blunt to you, but he surprised you by taking a drag from it for himself. he motioned you to come closer with his hand, and you strangely complied.

you leaned in towards his face and placed your lips on his, parting them to let the smoke enter your lungs. your cheeks heated slightly. you had never shotgunned with anyone else before.

if his breath didn’t taste like stale weed and slushie mix, you might’ve enjoyed it more.

your close proximity to him allowed you to analyse his face. his cheeks had been hollowed by the effects of college exams. he was good looking, if you were into boys that looked like they were on the cusp of death.

his ‘lips’ parted to say something as he deliberated what to do next. a voice in the back of his mind told him to lean forward and kiss you, but it was probably just the weed kicking in. he shook thought off and reached into one of his many pockets.

“pay me by the end of the week,” he shoved the bad into your hand, grabbed his skateboard and unstably skated off.

“ummm. what the fuck just happened?” you asked yourself, pressing your fingers to your lips that now tasted like marijuana and a 7-Eleven slurpie.

——————————————————————

you exhale and watch as the smoke travels throughout your dorm, your head heavy and your spirit light. it felt like nothing mattered. you didn’t even give a shit about the notes in front of you or the shitty hipster music coming from your radio. you quickly took another drag from your blunt, giggling at the smoke ring that comes from your parted lips.

the only thing that worried you these days was successfully avoiding jeno. you couldn’t afford to pay him back for this weed. the end of the week rolled by quickly, and you still hadn’t received your paycheck for the week. and to top it off, motherfucking spotify premium took money out of your account, causing you to overdraw. that shit is wild.

three harsh knocks on your door rudely interrupted your thought process.

“oh for fucks sake. what now?” you muttered, standing up from your bed. you peered into the peephole, seeing an angry looking jeno on the other side.

“how did this motherfucker figure out my dorm number?” you were a little scared. you thought you’d be able to successfully avoid him until you could get the money together. maybe you could just ignore hi-

“i know you’re fucking in there! where my money at, betch?” he barked dog emoji. you were gonna have to face him at some point. it might as well be when you’re faded as fuck. you sighed before unlocking the deadbolt. you didn’t even have time to twist the doorknob before jeno barged into your dorm.

“um, this is trespassing, broski. i ain’t even open the door yet. that’s my job,” you scoffed as he pushed passed your frame.

“i want my money now, y/n,” he states deadpanned with arms crossed. you wanted to comment on his lack of manners but there seemed to be a more pressing matter on your hands.

“y-you wanted that by the end of this week?” you laughed, trying to find a way out of a very dead end. jeno didn’t seem to find the whole situation amusing. he actually looked like he was about to swallow you whole chomp chomp yum.

“go get my fucking money,” he said, appearing stoic.

“the thing about that…” you looked around the dingy room in search for a way out but your gaze only came back to jeno’s angry eyes.

“you don’t have it?” he chuckled, his change in demeanour was somewhat unsettling, “ion play around so, you’re gonna need to pay up one way or another.” you gulped at his darkened tone.

“but, jeno. i don’t have any money. h-how could i possibly-“ you were cut off by his hand coming up to stroke your cheek.

“shhh, doll. you can repay me with something else…” you had never expected jeno to come out with something so slimy but for some reason you wanted to repay him. maybe it was the weed but his hushed tone was seducing you.

he trailed the hand on your cheek down to your waist and pulled you against his lean frame. biting his lower lip, he ever so slightly grinded up against you, testing the waters. when you didn’t push him away he leaned toward your ear.

“you’ve been such a bad girl, y/n.” he harshly nipped at your ear lobe, a mewl escaping your lips.

“and i’m going to punish you for that,” he let out a sinister chuckle, eyes darkening with lust.

he backed you up against a wall and coaxed you into a lip bruising kiss. you could barely breathe as he hungrily moved his lips against yours. his wet tongue found its way into your mouth, dancing against yours. it’s dominant movements forced you to relinquish all control. you didn’t particularly care at the moment, though.

his arms snaked around your waist, one slipping under the hem of your shirt. he began to palm one of your breasts, earning him a whimper. his actions became rougher as your reactions became more wanton.

he started to kiss down your neck, periodically nipping at the skin. you felt him smirk when you began to clutch at his shoulders, in need of more.

“you want more, baby?” he moved one of his legs between your thighs and began to grind you against it.

“yes, jeno.” you burst out in need of some sort of proper relief but to your surprise he began to tut.

“jeno? you don’t even deserve to say my name. if you wanna repay me properly, you have to call me daddy.” his request threw you off completely. daddy kinks were a thing you guess. jeno evidently was a freak and something about that made your core heat up.

“d-daddy?” your innocent tone and eyes caused jeno to chuckle.

“just like that,” he groaned, relishing in the control he had over you already, “you sound like such a good girl when you call me that, doll.”

he pulled off your shirt and made quick work of your bra. one of his thumbs slid over your hardening nipple.

“take daddy to your bedroom, baby girl.”

“yes, daddy,” continuing to kiss him, you lead him to your tiny bedroom, or so you thought. you stumbled through the door, only to be met with the sight of your bathroom. fuck. your cheeks heated up with embarrassment. sensing your discomfort, jeno chuckled in amusement, grabbing your chin.

“don’t worry, doll,” he mused, toying with the flesh of your bottom lip, “i kind of had to pee anyways.” before you could question him, he grabbed your waist, locking your lips with his. his hands slid down your waist, coming to a stop at the waistband of your shorts.

he thumbed at the silky material before gently tugging the fabric off of your body. you stepped out of the shorts pooling at your ankles as jeno slipped his shirt over his head. he eyed the wet spot on your pastel pink panties. you blushed with embarrassment, clenching your thighs together to hide yourself. jeno smirked, pulling your thighs back apart.

“don’t hide yourself from me, baby girl. i already saw how wet you were for me,” he chuckles, before kneeling down in front of your core. your eyes roll back as he starts sucking on the wet spot through your panties.

“feel good?” he asks, his voice slightly muffled by the fabric of your underwear. you whimper, running your fingers through the soft hair on jeno’s scalp. your knees wobble, and you grip the sink for support.

“that feels so good, daddy,” you answer, causing him to suck harder, “please take them off.”

“it’s funny how you think you get to tell me what to do. get on your knees,” he spoke, darkly. he stood up, you groaning in protest. he gripped your hair, roughly pulling you to the ground.

hastily, he removed his belt and pushed down his trousers. you could see the sizeable bulge his erection created more clearly now. unconsciously, your tongue came out to wet your lips in hunger.

“are you hungies for daddy’s cock?” he mocked, which you too fervently nodded in response to, “use your words, slut,” he barked, grabbing you by the neck.

“p-please, let me suck your dick, daddy!” you choked out, barely able to breathe.

as you caught your breath, he took his boxers off letting his cock spring free, it almost hit you in the fucking face. you gasped at the grand girth that stood proudly before you, twitching ever so often. a plethora of veins lead up from his base to his vermilion tip, which oozed out a sticky, crystalline fluid.

“if you want it that bad then suck, whore,” jeno grunted, slapping your flushed cheek with his magnum dong. he tapped your lips with the head of his dick, signaling you to part them for him. he slid his length into your warm mouth, groaning when it hit the back of your throat. your eyes watered as you gagged around his cock.

“i knew your pretty little mouth could take it, baby.” jeno threw his head back as you hollowed your cheeks around him. “what a good little cock slut.” jeno grabbed the back of your neck, holding your head still as he began to fuck your throat. a multitude of curses fell from his lips at the feeling of your tight throat as he thrust in and out.

jeno’s pace began to speed up as he got closer, deep grunts filled your dingy bathroom. when he looked down, he saw you were an absolute mess. tears streamed down your face as you tried to take his cock without choking. a smirk of accomplishment sat on his face.

“you know i still need to punish you, baby.” he growled out, thrusting into you more harshly. “since, you took me to the bathroom instead of your bedroom, i think i know what a filthy slut like you deserves.”

you didn’t quite catch his drift; all you could think about is the burning feeling in your throat and how sinful jeno looked from the angle you had of him.

“fuck, i’m gonna piss.” you choked causing you to swallow around his dick. the feeling made him hiss. you flung your head back in shock and all of the sudden you felt a warm liquid cascade down your face. an elongated pleasured groan erupted from him. shock inhibited you from moving.

“that’s it, take my piss you worthless whore,” the golden fluid started to drip into your mouth. you never thought you’d be into this type of thing, but it made you clench around nothing.

growing accustomed to the taste you opened your mouth for him. letting out a moan as his hot piss filled your mouth. the sight had him spewing a string of of profanities.

“shit, you’re such a dirty little bitch, aren’t you?” and he kept going. you wondered how long he’d been holding the need to pee because the flaxen shower seemed to go on for forever. he had a big dick so a big bladder made sense too, you thought.

after he was done you swallowed it all, opening your mouth to show him what you’d done. he pulled you up to taste himself.

“mmm, fuck, i taste so good,” he smiled, stroking the wet hair away from your face. for what seemed like an eternity you stood in a puddle of his piss looking into each other’s eyes. jeno all of a sudden felt a bit embarrassed, he had literally just peed all over you. he almost apologized to you, but quickly pushed the thought away. you deserved it.

“you know, we aren’t done yet, doll.” he dove forward, initiating another kiss, this one was more desperate. you felt his still erect cock brush up against you, pulsating in need. without breaking the kiss, he walked you into your shower, until your back hit the cold tiles. a hand made its way down your waist, grasping the elastic band of your panties. jeno slid them off with ease, watching as they pooled at your feet. he slipped one of his thick digits into your hole.

“shit, you're dripping.” he brought his hand up to marvel at the way your essence glistened on his fingers. he sucked them clean whilst gazing with hooded lids directly into your eyes. the sight made your knees go weak.

he trailed his wet finger down your abdomen and stopped when he reached your clit. this time he inserted two of his fingers and started to pump them in and out of you. your moans and mewls fuelled him. he began to curl his fingers, hitting you in a sensitive spot. your knees wobbled and you leaned against the shower wall for support.

“god, i’m gonna fuck the shit out of you,” he rasped before sucking a mark into your neck. He slipped his fingers out of you, before bending you over against the shower wall. You grasped onto the shower head as he shoved his cock into your tight hole. giving you no time to adjust, jeno began viciously pounding into you with no mercy, cries erupting from your throat.

“i love how you fuck me, daddy,” you screeched over the loud slaps of his hips meeting your ass.

“you fucking better, doll. you’re so god damn tight for me,” jeno nearly whimpered as you pulsed around his length. the burning in your pussy was strong, but you loved every bit of it. you couldn’t help but reach in front of you and start rubbing your clit.

“oh fuck, jeno. i’m not gonna last much longer,” you yelped as he hit a spot in you that’s never been reached before.

“me neither, baby. cum on my cock. i’ve got you, doll,” jeno grunted out, the sight of your wet pussy taking his cock making him dizzy. he sped up his thrusts, making you squeak with each one. his pace was almost animalistic as your orgasm washed over your body. you yelped, trembling as your legs gave out from under you. jeno held you up by the waist, his grip definitely tight enough to bruise you.

“can i cum in you baby? are you on the pill?” he asked, his voice the gentlest you’ve ever heard.

“yes, daddy. please cum in me. please fill me up,” you whimpered as he continued to pound your slick walls. you were hit by a feeling of overstimulation. it was so intense, you were seeing stars. suddenly, jeno let out a long deep moan. he sank his cock into you, balls deep, stilling as he painted your core with his seed. you cried out as the warmth of his cum coated your walls, deliciously.

jeno pulled his now soft member out of you, using his two thumbs to spread your lips open to watch his cum seep out. he groaned at the sight.

“ugh that almost makes me wanna fuck you over again. you’re lucky you look so spent, and i feel bad.” you were too tired to reply. jeno grabbed the shower head, rinsing you free of all of the sex grime with warm water. you hissed as his fingers brushed against your sensitive clit while he was cleaning you up. he grabbed two towels from the basket on the sink, wrapping his waist in one, and scooping you up into another. he picked you up with ease, walking in the direction of your bedroom.

“look at you,” he chuckles at your towel wrapped form, “you’re like a little soft burrito.” he laughed as he saw the way your cheeks tinged red. why was he being so nice now? as if he read your mind, he broke eye contact, and turned towards your dresser. he dug through your drawers, pulling out a pair of lilac panties and an old band t-shirt. you slipped the clothing on and he awkwardly patted your head, before walking back to the bathroom. you heard the sound of clothes rustling and water running for about five minutes.

jeno returned fully clothed, with his hands sheepishly folded behind his back.

“i um. i cleaned up the mess,” he said, his voice gentle and smooth.

“thanks, dude,” you whisper, your voice lacking the confidence you desired. he eyed the bruises on your knees and neck, grimacing at the pain he caused you.

“i-i’ll see you around i guess? i probably should get going. how about i buy you coffee next week to repay you for the bruises n’ stuff…” he trailed off awkwardly. he sighed in relief as a smile washed over your face.

“i’d like that,” you giggled before clearing your throat. “i mean um, yeah whatever, shawty. free coffee. amirite ladies?”

jeno bit back a smile, before nodding. you might just be one of his favorite clients.

#nct smut #lee jeno fluff #lee jeno smut #jeno smut #smut #nct dream smut #kpop smut #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream #renjun #jaemin #jeno #nct 127

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joanbeauforts · 6 years ago

Text

(and for a moment) you feel like you are made of gold stuff too

edoardo/eleonora Eleonora makes questionable decisions in the aftermath of her night at Edoardo's. ao3.

Ele wakes to an odd creaking sounds and the feel of something cool against her cheek. After a moment, she realises it is the sound of leather on leather. At some point in the night she had taken the leather jacket off and moved under the covers.

She was hugging the jacket now too. Its probably best for her own sanity if she doesn’t unpick that too much.

She is alone in the bed, she realises, as she pushes herself upright. From the light coming through the curtains, its not early. In fact, she has a sneaking suspicion that she has slept in embarrassingly late. As a rule, Ele does not sleep in. She is a morning person by nature and, however much Filo complains that no one should be awake willingly before midday, it’s the way she likes it.

She has broken a lot of her own rules lately.

She takes a moment before she goes downstairs to wash her face in the bathroom. She can hear him moving around down the stairs. Her hand shakes a little as she turns the tap off, and she curses herself for feeling nervous about seeing him.

She takes a moment to breathe. So, woke up in Edoardo Incanti’s bed—this doesn’t have to be a big deal. She can just bid him a quick, respectable goodbye and leave. It’s not a big deal.

Just like those niggling, fluttering feelings she had around him last night are also not a big deal.

She smells something baking as she pads down the stairs. He’s washing out glasses from the night before when she arrives in the kitchen. Most of the villa has been tidied; he must have been awake for a while.

He stops and smiles when he hears her enter. Her insides somersault. It’s probably hunger.

‘How did you sleep?’ he asks.

She takes a moment to answer. She can’t exactly admit that the answer is amazing—his bed is ridiculously comfortable. ‘Fine,’ she settles on.

He takes pastries from the oven, places one on a plate and hands it to her. ‘Coffee?’ he offers.

She nods, hopping up to sit on the counter like she had the night before. Her plan for a quick goodbye is already out of the window, apparently.

The pastry is buttery and delightful and melts in her mouth. She can’t help a tiny moan.

Edoardo’s eyebrows raise a little.

‘Did you make this?’ she asks before he can comment.

‘Yes,’ he says. ‘I had the dough prepared before.’

‘Is this part of the routine too?’ Ele asks, with a smile so he knows she’s joking. ‘You give girls a good breakfast, so they’ll forgive you when you never call?’

He laughs hard enough that he nearly spills the coffee he was pouring. It briefly crosses Ele’s mind that people don’t usually find her as amusing as he does.

‘So—you want me to call?’ he teases, and she realises she might have walked straight into that one.

‘Shut up,’ she mutters, taking the coffee and sipping to hide her blush. It’s not a no. The smile he flashes her says he knows it, too. ‘So, you bake, you sing, you play guitar. Is there anything the great Edoardo Incanti can’t do?’

He leans against the counter next to her, takes a drink from his own mug, and seems to consider this for a few moments. ‘No.’

‘You must have too much time on your hands.’ She points the remainder of her pastry at him accusingly. ‘You should study harder.’

‘I appreciate your concern for my studies.’

‘Anyway,’ she continues, ‘I only have my brother at home and I’m not—this.’ She gestures up and down him and then at their surroundings.

He looks at her curiously. She realises she has done it again—offered up personal details to him unprompted. ‘Your parents?’

‘My mother works at the university in Padua. She doesn’t come home much,’ Ele explains quickly. ‘Has Filo messaged at all this morning?’ she asks, before he can ask anything else.

‘No.’ He passes his phone across so she can see for herself. ‘You can let him know you survived the night, if you like.’

She rolls her eyes and then ruins the effect when she is unable to hold back a smile. ‘I don’t think he thought I was in mortal peril.’ She stares at the messages to Filo. It’s not like her brother will be awake anyway. ‘What should I tell him?’

‘Do you want me to drive you home?’ Edoardo asks.

The reminder that this comfortable thing she has had with him has to end stings. A thought enters her mind. The rational, sensible part of her brain that is supposed to catch it before she can say it out loud fails to kick in. ‘Take me back to Fiumicino,’ she says.

Edoardo pauses with his coffee halfway to his mouth. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Fiumicino,’ Ele repeats, before she loses her nerve. ‘I want you to take me there. Today.’

He blinks at her. There is something thrilling about being able to shock him. ‘But—why?’

‘We never really got to finish our date,’ she says, justifying it to herself as much as to him. ‘I thought it would be… nice.’

He breaks into one of those grins that could, completely objectively, power a city. ‘Okay.’

He offers up control of his Spotify account once they’re on their way. She settles on a playlist of innocuous pop songs. He taps his finger against the steering wheel in time to the beat.

She plays with the sleeve of the sweater she borrowed from him. She’s beginning to wonder if the discomfort of wearing her slept-in t-shirt and jumper from the night before would have been a better option that catching the soft look in his eyes when he saw her in his clothes.

Last time they made this journey she could bundle all of her nerves away under a feeling of righteous anger.

She no longer has that luxury.

This drive is not quiet like the last one, though. He comments on the traffic, the weather and anything else that takes his interest like this is a regular occurrence for them. She finds herself settling into it, and before she realises, they have arrived.

Last time, he had taken her to the marina. This time, after he has parked, he says, ‘I thought we could walk along the beachfront.’

It’s warm and sunny enough that she takes off the sweater as they walk. She forgets how tall he is sometimes, but she can tell he’s shortening his steps so she doesn’t have to jog to keep up with him.

‘You used to come here with your mother,’ she prompts. The words have so much more weight now that she knows that she’s gone.

He smiles. It’s soft and tender. She wishes she could see exactly what he is remembering right now. ‘She taught me to sail,’ he says.

‘Another skill that the great Edoardo Incanti possesses,’ Ele quips.

The corner of his mouth curves up in amusement as he continues. She’s glad. She wants this to be a happy moment. ‘It was usually just the two of us. My brother didn’t care, and my father was too busy.’

Ele makes a noise of understanding. Her mother hasn’t understood the concept of family time in years. ‘That’s a shame,’ she says.

‘I didn’t mind,’ he says. ‘It was good to spend time with her.’

‘Did you still come here after she…?’

‘After she got ill?’ he finishes, voicing what she couldn’t bring herself to stay. ‘Yes. We couldn’t sail, so we would sit on the beach instead. I think it was…’ he trails off. He has the same look as he did the night before, when he had thanked her for apologising for the things she’d said. ‘I think it was good for her,’ he finishes.

He stops suddenly in front of a gelateria. ‘What would you like?’ he asks.

The peach gelato she chose makes her hands sticky. She licks her fingers. Her stomach swoops when she notices him watching her. It occurs to her that she could stop and wipe her hands on her jeans instead.

She doesn’t.

They are stood in the sand. She’ll be pouring it out of her boots for weeks. The tide is out. She walks towards the sea. She doesn’t look back to see if he is following; she knows he will.

‘Do you think it’s cold?’ she asks over her shoulder.

‘Yes,’ she hears him say. He sounds amused. ‘Of course it is.’

She marches forwards regardless, stopping where the sea meets the sand. She bends and dips her hand in.

‘Shit!’ She jumps back as the water laps at her boots. It’s freezing.

‘I told you.’ He’s caught up with her.

‘I see now why you didn’t bring me down to the beach last time,’ she says. ‘I’d have caught hypothermia.’

His eyebrows raise. ‘Only if you had tried to swim.’

‘I’m sorry we never got to finish that date,’ she says.

‘I’m not,’ he says. ‘I’ve preferred today.’

She nods. ‘It’s been…’ she begins. A breeze whips a strand of her hair into her eyes. He reaches up to brush it away.

She’s not entirely sure when they got this close.

‘Eleonora,’ he says. His fingers are still there, hovering on her jaw now. He almost kissed her twice last night, and she almost let him twice. She’s not sure if her resolve can stand against a third time. ‘Why are we here?’

Because when he played that song to her last night, she feels like she fell out of the real world and into this one where she can talk and flirt and be comfortable with him like it is the most natural thing there is. Because she has found that somewhere, without her noticing, she has started to like having him around. Because she doesn’t want it to end.

She doesn’t know how to say any of that.

‘You asked me if I liked it here,’ she says instead, barely more than a breath. ‘I do.’

He is looking at her with such reverence, like she put the stars in the sky. The rush it gives her is incomparable.

‘Can I—?' he murmurs.

She takes a breath. Nods.

He kisses her.

Every thought leaves her head. All she can hear is the sea and all she can feel is him and the warmth of the sun, setting her alight. He is sweet like the gelato, and slow but not soft. One of his hands is in her hair and the other is sliding across her back, pulling her close.

She wonders distantly how anyone survives this. Surely, she will never breathe again.

He pulls back. His eyes move across her face, his thumb caresses a circle against her cheek. He is open and vulnerable, just like when he sang to her.

In an instant, she feels like she has been hit with a wave of the cold sea water. The moment she has been living in since last night, stretching to breaking point, suddenly shatters. What is she doing?

She takes a step back, her hand coming to her mouth. ‘What am I doing?’ she whispers.

‘Ele?’ He reaches out, concerned, and she takes another step away, shaking her head.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I shouldn’t have—’

‘What’s wrong?’ His hand catches her shoulder.

‘I can’t hurt Silvia like this.’ She is a terrible friend. Silvia has barely entered her mind in the last day.

He stares at her for a moment, and then looks somewhere into the distance above her head. She wonders briefly if he is going to get angry or frustrated. A little, treacherous part of her hopes that he will, because then she can get angry back at him, and they can go back to the way things were. She will have an excuse to hate him, and none of this will matter.

He only nods. ‘I understand.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes,’ he says. He looks back at her, finally. ‘I shouldn’t have messaged her again after a year. I didn’t realise it would make things more difficult for you. I’m sorry.’

She wants to take a moment to appreciate how much different his reaction might have been a year ago, but she can't think anything except what have I done?

‘Would you like me to take you home?’ he asks.

The drive back is quiet. She stares straight ahead out of the window, letting her thoughts spiral. Even a week ago, she would be setting out the lie they were going to tell about everything that has happened between them, but now she cannot find the energy for it.

She knows she can trust him, anyway.

He stops outside her house. She fumbles with the seatbelt as she tries to work out the proper way to say goodbye. She wants to just run out of the car and not look back.

‘Thank you for last night,’ she says. ‘And today, and for understanding… about Silvia.’

‘It’s nothing,’ he says, which is the stupidest thing she’s heard all day. She’s pretty sure she just broke his heart, and he’s just taking it like it’s no big deal.

‘Okay,’ she says. ‘I… goodbye.’

She doesn’t look back. She doesn’t stop until she has reached her bedroom.

She falls onto her bed and stares at the ceiling. She kissed Edoardo Incanti. She likes Edoardo Incanti. There is no denying any of it. Fuck, this is a mess.

#incantava #skam italia #edoardo incanti #eleonora sava #skam it #mine: all #mine: other: fanfic #f: skam it #otp: omnia vincit amor #alternate title for this fic is 'post sleepover au in which eleonora has like a third less self control'#anyway i dont know how to post on this hellsite any longer so if the formatting is Bad im sorry

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you-guys--are-losers · 6 years ago

Text

When Waffles Mean Trouble

//I have had “Replay” by Zendaya stuck in my head for literal days, so this happened.

The two nerds are still snoring, and MJ doesn’t feel like getting slapped in the face while waking up Leeds. The loser is notoriously dangerous to wake up; Parker swears he still can see a scar from the last time he tried to rouse Ned after a late night marathoning.

The night before, they managed to get through every single Harry Potter movie except for the last one. Several minutes passed in which MJ mocked them for being too tired to finish at 3:49 AM, and then Leeds and Parker had passed out immediately. As soon as they were asleep, MJ turned the volume down and finished the movie. She didn’t like leaving it unfinished before bed, and there was a large chance she would not be able to sleep anyway.

When MJ wakes that morning, the selection menu is playing over and over above her. She must have fallen asleep, she realizes as she rolls over to fumble for the remote to turn off the television. A quick glance at the old clock that hangs on the wall, plus the added five minutes to account for the time discrepancy, indicates that it is 7:44.

Funny, really, that she can fall asleep much more easily at the Parkers' than when she is actually home. MJ doesn't feel much like thinking about the irony this morning.

MJ flicks off the TV and glances over at the two sleeping teens, one of which is on the floor and the other dozing in an armchair. Michelle studies the boy on the floor, the one who had insisted she take the couch the night before. He has a thin blanket kicked off of his feet and his curly brown hair and his pillow are the only things between his face and the carpet.

MJ's eyes find his face, which has been much paler and more tired than it should be lately. It's not like she's worried about him, really. She may not see him eating enough, and she may have noticed that he is carrying too much on his shoulders without enough sleep, but that doesn't matter. It would be stupid of her to be this worried about the loser... But then, she can’t really help her tiny obsession.

She jumps as stomach growls so loudly that MJ is sure she will wake them both. Neither boy stirs, and she can't help rolling her eyes. They are both heavy sleepers whenever she stays over with them after marathoning. They are also terrible cooks, and she is starving.

MJ has been here often in these past few months, whether she is reading while they watch Lord of the Rings or fiddling around with the pieces while the nerds construct a Lego ship. She's good at observing, and she always has been. For instance, she has observed that May always buys flour and sugar under the pretense that she will be cooking. She also knows that they sit in the upper right-hand cabinet in the kitchen, where they never will see the light of day.

On her way to the kitchen, MJ steps over Parker and walks past Leeds’s chair. Her fingers absentmindedly tug his hat down slightly so that it will keep the sun out of his eyes as it comes in through the window. She steps into May Parker’s tiny, sunny kitchen and pauses as she glanced down at her phone.

May has an old speaker with tinny sound quality on the counter, and there is an aux cord connected to it. MJ knows the speaker doesn’t play too loudly, but it does play, so she moves to insert the cord into the headphone jack and presses shuffle on her Spotify playlist.

The song starts immediately, and MJ begins to move around the kitchen to the beat of the song. She grabs the sugar and the flour, as well as the baking soda and powder. She finds an old bag of chocolate chips in the cabinet as well, so she takes those and sets them on the countertop as she grabs the remaining ingredients.

MJ begins to stir the bowl vigorously, folding the chips into the batter. She starts humming with the song, but then the chorus comes, and MJ is tempted.

Does she hate the way the entertainment puts a price on talent? Yes. Does she think that celebrities are just a way for companies to suck the money out of people and make sure they enjoy it at the same time? Definitely.

Does she like this pop song? Of course.

“He-ey, wanna put this song on replay,” she sings to herself as she pours the wet ingredients together and sharply raps an egg on the counter. “I could listen to it all day, I could listen to you all day.”

Her voice grows louder as she becomes slightly more confident in the fact that they won’t wake. After all, Parker snored loudly enough that Leeds could probably sleep through Armageddon. MJ finishes mixing in the dry ingredients, and there is a smile on her face as she stirs the bowl until the batter is smooth.

“Don’t stop.”

Rippp. The bag of chocol dumps a liberal amount into the batter. Some people say that this is dangerous as compared to sprinkling them in the iron because the chips are prone to sinking, but MJ has discovered a solution to this. If there are a ton of chocolate chips in the batter, it is not hard to make sure that they are in every waffle since they can only sink so far. Also, she is just a little addicted to chocolate chips.

“Turn it on, turn it up, make it louder. I don’t wanna miss a single thing, wanna hear every melody...”

The waffle iron sizzles as MJ drops a chunk of butter onto it, and the sound only intensifies her hunger.

“Beating,” she continues, enjoying the feeling of the music leaving her lips. She has not sung just to sing for a very long time, and it feels amazing... Freeing, because she is the only one who can hear it. “Beating so loud you can feel it... Beating, beating for you-” MJ turns around, and the spatula clatters to the floor.

Not is only one who can hear it.

Leeds and Parker stare at her from the living room with eyes the size of the waffles currently steaming in the iron. Ned gapes at her, and Peter blinks several times, swallowing so his Adam’s apple bobs. The way they are looking at her, she might as well have just announced her sudden, passionate lust for Flash Thompson.

“U-um, we...” Peter stammers. “We didn’t, w-we didn’t wanna, like, freak you out or anything-”

“What were you doing?” Ned interrupts.

MJ blinks several times, and her mind is whirring as she struggles to speak. “Waffles,” she finally manages to force out. Her voice is tight and constricted, and she quickly turns and presses the button on the speaker to switch it off.

“Um... I meant the other thing- ow!” Ned mumbles, and there is the thud of an elbow meeting someone’s side.

MJ does not turn around. Instead, she grabs a fork and attempts to salvage the burnt waffles from the iron. They are so badly scorched that she practically has to scrape them from the heated metal. She stabs the burnt crisp far harder than necessary, with a violence that seems to put both of them on edge.

As MJ pries the burnt waffle into the trashcan, Ned’s phone begins to buzz. MJ can hear the sound of repeated notifications on his Stark Industries phone, and Peter appears terribly uncomfortable.

“Right,” Ned stammers. “I’ve got to, um... It’s my mom, she’s-”

“Out of town this weekend,” MJ says in a sharp voice. She is still smarting with embarrassment as she pours more batter into the iron, and it makes her slightly more caustic with Ned than she normally is.

“-Has... A... Sister,” Ned slowly forges ahead. “Um. Who’s texting me? About her baby. My mother has a sister who’s having a baby.”

“You’d better answer it, then,” Peter interjects. MJ cannot see with her back turned, but she thinks that he shoots Ned a look.

“Right,” Ned fumbles. He turns and quickly shuffles out of the room, and then MJ and Peter are alone.

MJ closes the iron and listens to the hissing sound filling the empty kitchen. She likes it, normally, but right now it is substantially less satisfying thanks to the smoke clouding the with the smell of burnt waffles. She moves to open the apartment’s tiny kitchen window.

“I didn’t know-” Peter begins from behind her.

MJ stiffens. She knows what he will say... Both Ned and Peter have heard her rants at the lunchroom table about the cancerous, parasitic nature of the entertainment industry and the way that people are willing to sell anything, even abstract concepts, to make a profit.

“I know, Parker, you don’t need to tell me about how much of a hypocrite I am,” she fires off, talking quickly. MJ whirls around, brandishing the spatula in the air like a baton as she rambles. “Just because I think that the entertainment industry is corrupted doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy the music, even pop, because if I like the song then I’ll be damned if I don’t listen to it, and-”

“-that you could sing,” Parker finishes quietly. “I didn’t know that you could sing.”

MJ blinks repeatedly in surprise, clearing her throat quickly. She is much closer than she expected now that she has stalked over to the couch, and a little bit of batter is on her cheek from her waving of the spatula.

“Really? You get stuck on that, Parker?” she mutters, turning to face the waffle iron. She doesn’t want to look into his earnest puppy-dog eyes, because she doesn’t want to feel the things that she feels every time she does. She doesn’t know what those things are, exactly, but she knows she hates them and she knows they’re his fault.

“Well, I mean, you don’t really seem like the type- not that you’re bad at it! You’re good, really, really good, but I... Um... I just never really thought you might sing.”

“I don’t,” she retorts, ignoring the way his flustered rambling sort of makes her want to push him against a wall, but not in an angry way. In the kind of way that she definitely, definitely will not be thinking about. “Not for people, or ever.”

“Then what about a minute ago?”

“You caught me in a moment of weakness. They’re rare, so treasure it, loser,” she mumbled, using the fork to move the waffles to a plate. MJ slathered enough syrup to drown them onto the plate, and then she shoved them in his direction over the counter. Parker nearly lets the plate fall to the floor, and he spends a minute fumbling with it that she uses to put more batter in.

“How did you know-”

“May doesn’t like syrup on her pancakes or waffles, but you always have a bottle and every time I come it’s almost gone,” she rattled off without looking back at him.

He sighs, and then his stupidly earnest voice says, “I will treasure it.” Her heart skips a beat, damn him. “Why don’t you?”

“I don’t like it. Coincidentally, I also don’t like idiots asking me impertinent questions.”

“That’s a lie, we saw you. You were smiling.” He is eating standing up the way every man in MJ’s life ever has, although there are a whopping two of them as of now. One is in Peter’s bedroom being a liar who lied to her, and the other eats his breakfast with so much syrup that she thinks he must be a diabetic.

She glares down at the waffles as she yanked them from the iron. MJ loves waffles, especially chocolate chip ones. But right now, they have caused her a lot of trouble no matter how fluffy they are.

“I used to take voice lessons,” she mutters, unplugging the iron and setting down her plate. In need of something to do, she covers the batter and slides it into the fridge so May can make more later. “They didn’t end well.”

“How do voice lessons end badly when you sing like that?” Peter asks incredulously. She shoots him a look only to find that his plate is already empty.

“How do you stay that skinny when you eat so much?” she asks, mimicking his tone. She moves to take his dish, but he swipes it from her grasp and walked to the sink with it. Leaving her waffles on the plate, MJ gathers all the dishes and begins to load them into the sink. It becomes an assembly line then, with Peter washing and MJ drying.

“I’ve got fast metabolism. Your turn.”

MJ sighs as she sets down the now clean glass mixing bowl. “I didn’t... It wasn’t my voice,” she mutters as she turns to wipe the spatula. “It was the recitals.”

“You... Have stage fright?” he asks, and his eyes are huge. He pauses in his rinsing of a teaspoon measure, quickly saying, “Not that that’s so crazy, I mean a lot of people do, I-I don’t like talking that much in front of people-”

“I would never have guessed.”

He passes her the teaspoon, and he is quiet for a moment, urging her to continue. Maybe it is foolish, but she does.

“My dad used to come to all of the recitals,” she sighs, taking much longer than necessary on the teaspoon. “He bought those daisies, the ones they color with cheap dye, and they were always purple because that was my favorite color. And then my parents...”

Peter winces, looking away. “MJ, you don’t-”

“They divorced, and then he stopped coming,” she finishes. “No more daisies and no more ice cream on the way home, and no more dad. And he went out and got a new family, and I stopped taking voice lessons.” MJ slams the teaspoon on the counter with the other dry dishes. “So no, I don’t sing, not anymore.”

MJ turns with open hands to grab the next dish, and she finds Parker staring at her instead. His stupid eyes look like they were transplanted out of a puppy, and they bring a lump to her throat that she shoves down.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and she looks at him with eyes as sharp as the kitchen knife that has clearly been sitting in the sink for days.

“Don’t be. It isn’t your fault, and I don’t want your pity.” MJ picks up the knife by its wooden handle and snatches the dishrag from him.

“But you can’t let him define it for you.”

Her eyes snap up to him, and she raises an eyebrow dangerously. “And who are you to tell me what I get to do?” she hums.

He returns her gaze. “I’m your friend, and don’t deny it, because I know that you have books to read and that you could be at any party you wanted if you felt like trying,” he insists.

Her face heats up, and she hopes it doesn’t show. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do.”

“But you’re good at it, MJ, and you love it. Why should he get to decide if you like it or not?” he insists. “Your dad let you down. Not everyone will, MJ. Not me, not Ned, and definitely not May. She loves you, and I know she would love your voice.”

“But-” She accidentally starts speaking, and now she knows she has to continue. “Whenever I do it, I think about him. And I don’t want to, Parker. It isn’t worth it, and I always end up hurt.” Her throat aches, but she ignores the feeling. She is not in pain, Michelle Jones does not feel pain.

Peter winces, and she knows that he realizes how serious she is. “I know. But just then, you weren’t singing for him. You were doing it for you.”

MJ blinks, and she opens her mouth to speak. However, he continues.

“If you do it for you, you get to rise above him. You get to put him behind you and choose people who won’t let you down,” he insists. His gaze doesn’t leave her face, and she slowly begins to wipe the knife blade. HIs eyes hold warmth as he looks at her, and a tentative hand moves to swipe the batter away from her cheek. “It’s not about him, it never was. It’s about you, and it’s beautiful.”

MJ’s grip tightens, and she nearly drops the knife, but it is at that moment that Ned comes stumbling into the room.

“Hey, Peter-”

Peter’s head snaps to Ned, and MJ has a chance to recover her fumbling fingers.

“Oh,” Ned says slowly. “Was I...”

“Um, no, no, of course not,” Peter stammers.

“Good, because... Because you have a thing,” Ned insists with wide eyes.

“Right,” Peter says quickly. “That thing. The one I forgot.”

“Yeah, that one.”

Peter’s eyes flicker to MJ. “Look, MJ, I-”

“Nah, it’s fine,” She hums as she sets down the knife. “I have to go anyway.” She glances at the lukewarm waffles on the counter and decides to leave them for May as she goes to fetch her bag. “You do your thing. Sounds important.”

Peter gapes at her, seeming shocked she isn’t questioning. “But-”

“Seriously,” she assures the pair. “I forgot, I’ve got to go and get my teeth cleaned at the dentist anyway.”

“Oh, cool,” Peter says slowly. He offers her a tentative smile, one that makes MJ’s hands shake the way they did when she almost sliced her middle finger off holding the knife. That would have been a disappointment the next time she saw Flash.

“See you guys later,” she hums as she swings her bag over her shoulder. “Tell May I say hi.”

Are they the worst liars in the world? Yes. But that doesn’t mean that she is going to confront them. She wants Peter and Ned to choose to tell her on their own, not to have a part of themselves forced out by a sleep-addled mind, waffles, and a tinny speaker. She wants to know... Wants in on that part of their friendship, to be that much closer to them in a way that she hasn’t with anyone else.

MJ leaves the two nerds sitting in the kitchen, appearing quite bemused. That’s her favorite way to leave people with a look like they’re wondering what just hit them.

The rest of the day goes normally, for the most part. It is only when her mother points out later that she has been humming while doing the dishes that MJ realizes something. She was singing... And it wasn’t for her father. It wasn’t for her mother, it wasn’t for Peter, and it wasn’t for anyone.

Her song had been for Michelle Jones, and no one else.

#michelle jones #michelle jones x peter parker #peter parker x michelle jones #spider-man: homecoming #spiderman:homecoming hc #spideychelle #spiderman #one-shot #spideychelle oneshot #oneshot #mj x peter #mj #peter x mj #peter parker #original work

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nyxwordsmith · 6 years ago

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Not Enough: Chapter 22: Midnight Dances

A/N: THIS IS ANOTHER FAVOURITE CHAPTER CAUSE THIS IS SOME SOFT ASS FLUFF!!! ENJOY!!!

Chapter 21 | Masterpost | Chapter 23

Also available on AO3 (Complete Work)

Virgil

As it did most nights, sleep kicked him out and consciousness yanked him back into reality, though this time Virgil wasn’t sure if it was because he’d had a nightmare or an unwelcome sense of dread.

He couldn’t recall having a nightmare. No disturbing imagery or voice remained to haunt him. And…well, actually he felt pretty calm.

So why was he awake?

Virgil carefully peeled his blankets from his legs, twisting to put his feet on the hardwood floor. He yawned, jaw cracking as he pushed himself to his feet and stretched. How many hours of sleep had he even managed to get? It didn’t feel like his usual three or four.

Well, he’d had a pretty brutal fight a few days ago, Virgil shouldn’t be entirely surprised.

Shuffling toward his bathroom and flicking the light on, he smirked at his own reflection. Doubt had retreated for the time being, but most of the mirrors in the mindscape were being covered. For Roman’s sake.

Virgil’s eyeshadow was smeared and pale under his eyes, and the anxious Side truly didn’t feel like fixing it. And even though he usually applied concealer and foundation out of habit, he didn’t really need it anymore. Did he look…healthier? How long had that been going on for?

His hair was a mess, and Virgil looked down at the hairbrush on the basin. He could brush his hair. Or he could not.

Not. Felt pretty good.

He carefully took a hold of the bottom of his shirt, steeling himself for what he was going to see when he pulled up the fabric. He expected ribs and hip bones sticking out like a skeleton’s. He didn’t expect to the see a fairly healthy amount of fat and muscle under his skin, since his bones weren’t nearly as visible.

The bruises he did expect.

He had fought a figment of Roman, and the guy could throw his weight around. Virgil swallowed painfully at the memory, grateful that he was designed to move faster than Roman was. And that Thomas had gotten Patton to calm down.

Virgil let his shirt fall, stepping back out of the bathroom and slid his hoodie over his shoulders. He wasn’t tired, which felt strange, but something was drawing him downstairs. And even though he didn’t mind going down looking like an utter disaster, there was one thing that would never change.

He never went to the commons without his hoodie.

From his bedroom door he could see the glow of the television, and Virgil frowned as he imagined exactly who would be down there this time of night. Roman seemed the most likely candidate, but there was the possibility that Patton was there too. Or instead.

Virgil tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, carefully shuffling down the dark hall and stairs, hearing a sharp inhale as he slowly descended. Roman was staring up at him, his face pale and eyes wide, fidgeting with a pillow in his lap, “Hey you.” Virgil murmured quietly, glancing at the television.

It was some movie that Roman wasn’t really paying attention to.

Virgil approached Roman slowly, “What are you doing up?”

Roman shrugged, “Couldn’t sleep.” He looked back at the television, eyes still too wide, not really focused on what was happening on the screen in front of him.

It felt strange to be the one approaching Roman in the commons in the middle of the night. But the prince needed him. His idiot needed him.

“Hey.” Virgil gently took Roman’s chin in his hand and turned him until he was looking up at Virgil, “Let’s talk about it, huh?” Roman blinked up at him, still fidgeting with the pillow, but he wasn’t focussed on Virgil in the slightest. The prince was stuck in his head again.

So, Virgil did the one thing he knew would work.

He leant down, hands spreading to cup Roman’s cheeks as he brushed Roman’s lips with his. The prince stiffened as Virgil brushed again, feeling the royal’s jaw relaxing under his fingers, and then Roman making a small sound of surprise.

After the third pass, he felt Roman smile fondly, “Are you just going to tease me, or kiss me properly?” his voice rumbled between them, and Virgil couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hmm…will you tell me why you’re still up?” Virgil asked, their lips almost touching, so close they could feel their breaths mingling.

“After?” Roman whispered.

Virgil didn’t bother answering him that time. Roman made a small noise as their lips met, soft and searching, gentle and reassuring, the prince’s hands moving to Virgil’s hips and pulling him closer.

The royal guided Virgil onto his lap, the anxious Side deepening the kiss as his hand travelled and stroked his face and neck, tangling in his hair. The reassuring kiss become hungry, almost desperate, both of them looking for something in the other. Roman’s hold was tight, Virgil nearly clinging to the royal.

Roman was the one to break the kiss, though he remained close enough to feel his breath on Virgil’s face, “You still want me to tell you?” he whispered, and Virgil heard the unspoken half of the sentence, ‘Because at this rate we’ll be going to bed anyway.’

“Um, yes?” Virgil whispered back, breathless as Roman’s hands spread and travelled over Virgil’s back over the hoodie, “We can’t simply fuck whenever you can’t sleep.”

Roman pouted, but thankfully didn’t say anything ludicrous. He sighed, “My bed is a traitor.” He whispered, “It gets…uncomfortable…to sleep on.”

“Hmm.” Virgil met Roman’s eyes, so close in the dim light that they sparkled and Roman’s breath was stolen, “Sounds like we’ll have to go to my room.”

“But…the influence…” Roman whispered, eyes searching as Virgil took a quick detour from Roman’s mouth to pepper kisses along the royal’s jaw.

“Excellent point.” Virgil felt Roman’s back arch slightly as he pressed a kiss to his pulse, “Why does your bed get uncomfortable?” he asked, leaning back to meet Roman’s eyes.

The royal was giving him a look that was half-pleading, half-nervous. He clearly didn’t want to answer that question. Virgil knew that he was wearing the same shirt he’d changed into days ago, and the only reason the wounds on his hand weren’t infected was because Logan was in charge of them.

The prince wasn’t looking after himself. At all.

Roman huffed finally, leaning back and taking Virgil with him, “I guess…it get’s more uncomfortable…the more insecure I feel?” Roman pouted, “I’m not sure exactly what it is. And I get nightmares.”

Virgil looked deeply into Roman’s eyes, feeling the royal’s face twist with discomfort. He’d never liked it when Virgil searched him, when he tried to pull him apart and figure him out.

“Virgil…” he whined, hands drifting down to rest on Virgil’s thighs, “Stop looking at me like that.”

He wasn’t going to find anything this way, “Sorry,” Virgil sighed, “What’s the most common thought you have when you go to bed?”

Roman sank into the couch cushions, “Hmm…depends on what set off the…dip…in the first place, I suppose.” He shrugged.

“Okay, what about this time?” Virgil moved his hands from Roman’s neck and started tracing idle patterns over Roman’s chest as he leant back a little.

Roman huffed, “That you didn’t care or…or I wouldn’t…be enough for any of you.”

“Be enough?” Virgil repeated, feeling the strange bumps and ridges through Roman’s long-sleeved shirt.

Roman closed his eyes, head tipping back, “That…ya know…I couldn’t love you the way you needed or wanted.” He pulled his head back up, meeting Virgil’s eyes again.

His vulnerable expression was so much worse under the soft glow of the television, his eyes wide and shining as he looked up at Virgil, “Roman, are you afraid of losing us?” he asked gently, “Or of us rejecting you?”

His cheek twitched at the first question, but the second one had the prince violently flinching, “Rejection.”

Virgil suddenly had an idea, “Hey, come with me.”

“Where…? We can’t go to either of our rooms.” Virgil was holding his hand and tugging, giving Roman no choice but to get to his feet.

“You remember the morning of Logan’s Big Fuck Up?” Roman’s eye twitched but he smirked with a nod, “Remember how I came down for breakfast?”

“Uh, yeah. Is this like…was that important?” Roman asked, confused, as Virgil flicked the television onto a Spotify account and searched a playlist.

Soft classical music began to play in the room and Virgil waved his hand to light some of the candles in the room. With the dim light returned, Roman frowned at Virgil, “I’ll be honest, I watched you dance that morning.” Roman stiffened, eyes widening, “You were…really good.”

Roman’s shoulders dropped, eyes still wide but his expression changed. The prince had clearly expected something a little mocking. “What?” he squeaked.

“You dance really well.” Virgil repeated, already putting Roman’s hands into position, “Well, you looked so happy doing it.”

“You want to dance with me?” Roman asked, completely incredulous.

“If you swear to me on your life, that you never tell the others.” Virgil answered, crushing Roman’s hand in warning.

“Ah! Okay!” he laughed as Virgil relaxed his grip, “Geez, Virge, I promise.”

Roman’s steps started slow and hesitant, stiff and awkward as he kept his eyes on his feet and practically crept around the room. But Virgil was too busy watching Roman.

Watching him stop second-guessing his steps, watching the light return to his eyes, watching the way his shoulders dropped and his neck lengthened.

Virgil was too busy watching Roman smile fondly down at him to worry about his own steps.

“Virgil.” The anxious Side blinked as he was snapped from his thoughts, “You…realise you aren’t wearing any make up and your hair is a mess.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Duh. Of course, I know.”

Roman stopped the dance, surprising Virgil by cupping his face in his hands. The sudden rush of warmth had Virgil blinking wordlessly up at Roman. Was this why Roman and Logan went still when he did this?

“Roman?” Virgil whispered, eye dancing over Roman’s face.

“Good. Because you still look beautiful.”

They both felt Virgil’s face start to burn, but before Virgil could say anything, Roman was crushing their lips together. There was no desperation or searching this time as Virgil slowly melted against him. There was gratitude and passion, and a love so deep Virgil was certain he would drown.

#Fanfic #Sanders Sides #Not Enough #Nyx Fic #Virgil #Roman #Prinxiety Focus #Canonverse

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rohobi · 7 years ago

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Serendipity 04 | (M)

pairing— jeon jungkook x reader, friendwithbenefitsAU genre/warnings— smut, fluff, slight angst, swearing NSFW AT ALL words—7, 012 ↳ CHAPTERS → CHAPTER 5

chapter 4 summary: ❝O is for Oral❞ A/N: I’m sorry. Also, this is the last part of Serendipity and the following chapters will be called Reciprocity with a more detailed background of both reader and Jungkook. I was originally going to split this into two but thought against it because all of you are hell-dwellers anyway. In any case, happy reading/nutting.

You haven’t seen Jungkook in two weeks. Which isn’t awfully different from your usual, being two working adults with parents who have exceptionally high expectations for your futures.

But this time, it was different.

You actually kind of miss him.

Jungkook, being the in demand academic, had been pulled into a rip tide of study, pulled under the murky waters of social isolation and into the perils of his education; a last minute assignment and a forgotten seminar on health and architecture that he had to attend.

And you were left astray, turning to more immaculate reads through pages composed by Malorie Blackman instead of some 34 year old divorced woman discussing a dick drought during golden showers.

Urban dictionary has this flip a coin feature of being on one side, completely comedic and on the other, bloody disturbing as it’s explanation of that saying has you immediately deleting your search history and leaving the fucking planet. Humans are disgusting yet, creative and outlandish creatures.

So in saying that, you hadn’t received any word from Jungkook until this very beautiful Friday evening, 6 hours post-hand in doomsday and 2 hours post-seminar where Jungkook had inhaled their hot horderves to the point of notice and had been kicked out in front of his superiors for excessive eating.

And who did he call? Ghostbust-

-you.

In pulling up to the side walk in your BMW, he hadn’t ushered another word about his shovelling adventures but you did ask him how many plates he had eaten when you arrived outside his apartment.

“How many plates?” He had turned to you, a smirk accentuated by the orange hues of the streetlight. “All of them.”

And you were pleasantly not surprised this time.

“You should’ve seen my professors face when I was dragged outside the seminar hall. He looked like he regretted ever forcing me to go,” Jungkook says, laying on his back, computer sitting hazardously on his stomach. “Seriously though. The system is fucking bullshit. Fuck them all. I just want to watch mindless movies and feel my brain leak out of my ears. If that’s okay with you.”

“People are dying around the world Jungkook, complain about things that matter,” You stammer. Laying next to Jungkook with a pillow under your knees, and his socks on your feet. You turn up your spotify playlist. “And, excuse you, what brain?”

“Ha ha, you’re so funny.”

“Just watch a korean drama. You’ll waste 2 days of your life binging it and you would’ve lost some brain cells in the process too. I recommend any drama Suzy is in.”

“What have you got against her? She’s so hot,” He snorts, scrolling through his netflix account. “And this is coming from your experience?”

You kick his leg. “She’s the same character in all of her dramas and it’s getting pretty boring. And, do you want to die?”

Grinning sheepishly at you in response, he continues searching through his recommended tv shows, cursor falling short of season 9 Rupaul’s Drag Race.

“Have you seen season 9 of Rupaul’s?” he asks, and you shake your head. “No, not yet.”

Scrolling past it, he says. “I’m not impartial to watching it if you want….”

“Nah not in the mood today.”

“That’s fine. If you don’t love yourself, hell the hell you gon love somebody else.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Um, hey Jungkook, can I ask you something?” you ask, scooting closer to his side. “Please?”

He nods without looking away from his computer screen. “You just did.”

“Beside that?”

“You just did again.”

You slap his chest. “Can I ask you lots of questions?”

He snickers. “Sure, shoot.”

“Don’t laugh at me but what is fellatio and why do guys beg for it? Is it good?” you ask him and you hate how serious you sound when the next thing that you hear is a condescending rupture of cackles.

“What?” You watch Jungkook choke on his spit before jerking up and coughing. “What did you just fucking ask me?”

Your cheeks heat up. “I was just reading and they were talking about their partners begging for fellatio …it’s gelato right? Unless of course it isn’t …then just ignore me and let’s pretend I never said anything.”

“What makes you think it’s gelato Y/N?”

“Remember when we went to that new gelato place in town and we got their new flavours, you got their staccio and I got their fellatio with crunchy nuts on top?”

Jungkook laughs so loudly, you aren’t sure how to react. “Omg, I can’t believe you,” Ripping off the covers, Jungkook falls onto the floor laughing. You watch him roll around with tears in his eyes. “Fucking fellatio, omg.”

“What?” you ask, “Did I say something dumb again?”

Wiping the tears from his cheeks, he looks up at you on the bed. “Did you mean fragola?”

You shake your head. “No, of course not. I’ve had fellatio before! It was the one with the nuts”

“Are you kidding?” He laughs again. “I mean, you’re right about the nuts part but are you sure you aren’t thinking of pistachio? I don’t know if you’re joking.”

The realisation feels like you’ve been doused in warm water. “…pistachio?”

Jungkook cackles so loudly, he starts coughing again. “I can’t believe you thought fellatio was a type of gelato, you moron! You’re supposed to be a law student???????? How are you this dumb?”

Sitting up in his bed, you lean against the headboard. “Well, are you going to tell me what it is or not you wanker?”

He wipes the tears away from his eyes. “Fellatio is oral sex Y/N, blow jobs you idiot.”

You make a silent ‘O’ shape with your mouth. “Oh, that makes so much sense. I was wondering why they were talking about techniques with your tongue. They even made a guideline. I didn’t even read it.”

“A guideline? I already sent you a load of information about oral sex?”

You nod. “Yes, but it all makes sense now.”

“For a smart person, you can be really dumb sometimes. And what were your other questions?” Jungkook asks, putting his phone on his side table to give you all of his attention.

“So if it’s not gelato and you haven’t found a movie and you probably won’t …can I do it on you?” You ask it so nonchalantly that Jungkook chokes on his saliva. Coughing into his pillows again, you pat his back. “Jungkook, you okay?”

He nods. “Yeaah, I am ffiinne,” he stutters, clearing his throat. “Just was not expecting that so soon. You want to give me a blow job?”

Hesitantly, you nod. “Right now?”

“Hell fucking yeah, are you agreeing to have sex with me?”

You hold your hands up in surrender. “I said I’d give you a blow job and you go ahead and speed down the highway of jumping ahead. No Jungkook, just a blow job.”

Jungkook sits up, turning to face you. Grabbing your hands, he looks you straight in the eyes. “Y/N, you realise that if we’re going to do this every now and then, we need to make some rules okay. I don’t want it to feel like I am taking advantage of you.”

“Oh so, you’re in control of this?” Smiling, you say. “I don’t think so. You want to make rules? New Rules? Like… one, don’t pick up the phone …you know he’s only calling because he’s drunk and alone….”

Sitting up, he frowns at you. “Don’t you dare sing that song. Can you please take this seriously for once in your life?”

Raising your fingers in a peace sign, you serenade him with the song of your people. “Two, don’t let him in you have to kick him out again.”

“Stop singing you butt.”

Pulling his arms with yours, you sing louder. “Three, don’t be his friend you know you’re gonna wake up in his bed in the morning and if you’re under him, you ain’t get-ting over him. I got new rule-

Slapping a hand over your mouth, Jungkook pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “You’re a fucking cliche Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Is it a cliche because it works or because you feel threatened by my amazing talent?”

“I would hardly call that amazing,” he objects. “By rules, I mean, to keep you safe and to keep me safe. If we were to do this, it could become unhealthy. Almost all friends with benefits relationships don’t end well.”

You slap his hands away from yours. “Someone gets attached and if you think that is going to be me, I’m sorry to tell you first that I have a deep and intricate relationship with your netflix account only, not you. I’ve seen all the movies Jungkook I know all the possible endings, like-

“You’re going on a tangent Y/N, just sto-

“-you could get me pregnant or I drown you in the bathtub.”

Staring at you in horror, he sighs. “Rightio …which part of your small brain did that come out of.”

You smirk. “The same part that remembers when you used to like wearing my makeup and being called princess.”

“Okay,” clearing his throat, he holds his chin in a vice grip. “Let’s make some rules. First rule: Good communication. We tell each other what we’re feeling even if we think it’s stupid. Sound good?”

You hold your hand up to high five him. “Yasss boi, communication is the key to all good and healthy relationships.” He high fives you back. “Rule 2: Purpose. Sex is only happening if it’s for an educational purpose, for example, you think fellatio is a type of gelato and I want to show you why it definitely is not.”

You pout. “Fuck you, it sounds like a type of gelato though.” “It does but only you would think it actually is. Rule 3: No sleepovers after sex. I love having you stay over but it would make me confused if I were to wake up and you had your arms and legs all over me indisposed. So only sleep over if we’re watching Stranger Things or something.

You blush at the thought. “Rule 4: Reciprocity. You do for me what I’ll do for you. If you want to stick a plug in my ass, I’m sticking one in yours. And, we only sleep with each other. We want to keep this both emotionally and physically safe, I don’t want to use condoms if I know you’re on the pill and that we’re both free from sexually transmitted infections. Again, this is a recipe for an emotional disaster.”

You hold your finger up in the air. “And we both know that you’re a horrible cook.”

Frowning he shakes your comment away. “Those rules sound good?”

“Aren’t you going to say, Rule 5: No one falls in love with each other or this thing is over?”

“I’m not going to police your emotions and I hope you don’t police mine either. We are two consenting adults and we communicate together, if that’s something that ends up happening, we’ll deal with it then. Sound good?”

Sitting in front of him with your legs crossed, you push out your hand to shake. “Sounds exceptionally mature of you Jeon Jungkook.”

He puts his hand into yours. “So, to summarise this relationship. You can do whatever you want with me so long as I can do it back to you. You’re uncomfortable with something? Me too. I am uncomfortable with something, so are you.”

Tightening your grip on his hand, you grin. “It’s a deal. Want to start tonight?”

The smile that crawls across his face, is a one you haven’t seen before. It’s a mix between being given an early christmas present and wanting to steal your neighbor’s gopro when they’re on vacation. “Sure,” says, laying back down. “Ladies first.”

“First to what?”

He laughs softly. “I’m going to eat you out first, ladies first.”

“Ew. Can you not say it like that you ugly mole rat?”

Jumping out of bed, he rips off his shirt before jumping on you. He falls on your knees, trying to wiggle himself between you legs.

“Um, Jungkook?”

“What?”

You push him away from you. “Ya girl is having a shower first. There’s things a lady needs to prepare okay?”

Jungkook groans before rolling back onto his side of the bed. “Well, will you hurry up then. It’s past midnight and I want to sneak an episode of something in.”

“Oh shut up, I need to prepare myself physically and mentally. I’ll be right back.” you snap. Jungkook doesn’t say anything as he watches you storm off towards the bathroom.

And he doesn’t say anything for the half an hour you take in the shower. He all but strips naked and starts watching the pilot episode of Dark while you do acrobats in the shower trying to get a perfect landing strip with his razor.

He doesn’t even notice you come back into the room until a slippers been thrown at his face when he feels the bed dip.

“Don’t fucking look! I’m moisturising my legs!” you shout, throwing your other slipper at his face. “Give me some privacy.”

“I wasn’t even looking at you and you’ve taken so long that I’m nearly finished this episode.” He grits his teeth, closing his computer and putting it on his bed side table.

“I won’t be long, I just want to make sure everything is right.” you whisper, moisturizing your neck.

Groaning behind you, he falls back into the bed sheets. “Stop being high maintenance, you always smell nice to me.”

“Who the hell said I was doing this for you?”

Turning to face you, he watches you dry the ends of your hair with the corners of his towel before letting the strands dangle down your back. You were wrapped in one of his old white towels sitting at the end of the bed.

“I’m just waiting for my legs to be dry now okay? I don’t understand why you’re in a hurry. Good things take time.” you mutter, feeling nervous. You had shaved your pubic area in the shower and had shaven a nice landing strip before your neck got cramped and then you sat on the shower box asking yourself why you even bothered with your pubes.

You’re a woman. Women have hair.

“Okay, I’m ready. How do you want me?” you say, turning to look at him over your shoulder.

“In the bed beside me please.”

“Your manners are sure nice, why can’t you be like this all the time?” Standing up, you slowly drop your towel down your body. You can tell Jungkook watched every inch of that towel disappear from your body, how could you not, you could feel his eyes scour down your body like two probes.

“Damn,” he whistles.

Ugh. You weren’t even trying to be sexy, just efficient.

Slowly turning around, Jungkook stares wide eyed at your body. You cover your breasts, insecure of what he might think of them. “Can I wear a shirt?”

Jungkook stutters. “N-no, ggeett in. It’ll be too hot for a shirt.” Jungkook doesn’t know where to look. He hadn’t expected your body to be so feminine.

Walking to your side of his bed, you slip under the sheets, one hand still covering your boobs. “Would you stop staring at me? You’re making me feel insecure.”

Laying on his side, he smiles softly. “You really shouldn’t be because damn girl, you have a nice ass.”

“And it’s off limits Jungkook. Thanks though.”

“For now,” he laughs. “And, you’re welcome.”

An awkward silence hangs between you before you lean over to the bedside table and press play on the playlist you had been listening to in the shower. It hums softly on Jungkook’s speaker, filling the silence between you. Jungkook leans onto his side to turn off the lamp and turn on the fairy lights wrapped around his curtains.

The silence hovers uncomfortably as you grip the sheets up to your chin. You hadn’t thought of this part. Who makes the first move here? Do I? Should I just lean over and tickle his chin or something.

“Y/N,” he whispers, leaning his head on his arm beside you, face hovering above your. “You okay?”

You nod. Please make the first move, I don’t know what I’m doing.

Jungkook closes his eyes, feeling suddenly intoxicated by the smell of your passion fruit shampoo. It was his favourite, something he wouldn’t tell you on a normal basis but one he remembered to buy every time he shopped just in case you stayed over. He had used it before but it had only ever smelt good when it was on you.

Collapsing on top of you, he digs his face into your neck. “God, you smell so good, what the hell.”

You laugh as your rub his bare back. “Didn’t know this was apart of our agreement.”

Pulling away from your neck, he stares down at you. There are no words for the feeling he suddenly has but other than the feeling of electricity tingling beneath his skin, he feels comfortable.

And all he knows is that he wants to kiss you.

“Didn’t know you being a smart ass was apart of the agreement either, but here we are?” he whispers, brushing his nose against yours. Filling the small space between you, he slides his soft lips over your warm ones without warning. You relax underneath him when he cups your cheek tenderly.

Separated by the thin layer of folded sheet, you can feel his cock begin to harden against your pubic bone.

Running your hands down his bare back, you imagine what Jungkook would look like with back tattoos. You didn’t want to tell him but ever since you saw him shirtless 4 months ago, you wanted to pin him down and tattoo a dragon on his back and across his shoulder blades. Nothing says sex appeal like muscles and tattoos. At the time, the morally good part of your brain shook that one right out of the nest and you decided that maybe just manipulating him at a later date would be more conventional. Jungkook remains on the fence with that idea.

Brushing his nose against yours, he tilts his head to deepen the kiss and if there is one thing you like about Jungkook, it’s the way his mouth is shaped and how you think his lips fit into yours like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together. It’s a lame piece of poetry but when something feels right, it might just be right.

Jungkook begins to kiss the hell out of you. You aren’t sure what he’s thinking about or what’s gotten into him but you refuse to french kiss him when you know he hasn’t brushed his teeth. You can already smell his morning breath and it’s enough to make you reconsider this whole thing.

So when Jungkook tries to stick his tongue into your mouth, the most you do is suck on his tongue and then push it back into his mouth while clamping your lips shut. Shops closed Jungkook, I’m not taking any customers at this present time. Please come again at a later date when you learn what a toothbrush is.

“Jeon,” Angling his face, he kisses across your cheek, latching his mouth onto the skin behind your ear. “Why do neck kisses feel so good? It makes my fanny feel like a fire hydrant.”

He laughs against your neck. “What? I’m serious, you just kiss my neck and pow, I’m ready to do the boom boom.”

“I’ve only kissed your neck like once, who else has kissed you here enough for you to think that?”

You shrug. “Irene Bae in 7 minutes of Heaven at Taehyung’s party last year.”

“Wait,” He hovers above your head for a second. “You and Irene? Did you guys do anything else…”

You look at him in thought. “We just kissed, she tried to do things but yeah …I’m not interested in women.”

Jungkook looks at you in new found interest. “Did you guys use tongue? Was it super hot?”

“Not really, I had too much too drink and vomited all over her.”

“Are you serious?”

You stare in disbelief at him. “Of course not. We made out like normal people, admittedly, there was a lot of tongue I think but yeah, you’re still the best kisser I’ve ever had, now keep kissing my neck.”

You turn your head away, allowing him to work his magic against your neck. You don’t give two shits if he gives you hickies, you wore turtlenecks on the regular anyway.

Jungkook returns his lips to your neck, slowly dragging them across your sensitive skin. “Hey,” you moan, feeling it ripple desperately from the bottom of your throat when he rolls his tongue over your pulse points. “That feels so good.”

You can feel his growing erection against you as he grinds softly into you. Rubbing your feet together at the feeling of electricity, you’re embarrassingly wet already and you hate it.

Jungkook presses kisses down your neck, to over your collarbone before grabbing one of your breasts and lightly squeezing. Kissing around your areolar, he flicks his tongue over your nipple.

You slap his hand away. “Hey, what are you doing with my boobs.”

He looks up at you, tongue still touching your nipple before he quips “Relax hagrid, it will feel good.”

Latching his mouth over your nipple, he rolls his tongue and boy be damned. It actually feels good. Weaving your fingers through his hair, you hold him close to your chest.

When you were 14 years old, you had watched this film called Angus Thongs and Perfect Snogging and you and your friends had sat on your hands for 10 minutes before fondling your own boobs. Jungkook had been on the end of the couch, completely confused as he tried to fondle the skin of his own chest. Sure, it felt like someone else but when someone else actually touched you, nothing else compared.

And the feeling flowed straight down to your groin.

Lowering himself, Jungkook grinds his cock through your folds and the feeling is like electricity striking you down and melting you against the bedsheets. That’s a pretty shitty metaphor but there’s no other way to describe it for you, it just feels so good.

Scratching down his back, you open your legs wider for him. “Jungkook, I’m so wet, I’m sorry.”

He ignores you, as he grinds into you harder.

You wrap your feet around his waist, moving your hips against his. “Oh shit, not this again,” He bites into your shoulder, sensually rolling his hips against yours. “Jungkook, we need to reconvene, I’m too hot and you’re not eating me out and at this rate, we’ll have sex because your dingaling feels so good rubbing against me like that, that I’m very close to saying fuck this all and sitting on it. I want you but not like this.”

Jungkook moans loudly at your words, gradually halting his hips. “You make me feel like a 16 year old boy, I’m so close to coming already.”

“God, ew.”

Pushing him off of you, he falls into the sheets beside you. Perspiration drips down his forehead as he pants. His erection stands at attention, pre-cum already leaking out of his slit. “You have a filthy mouth Y/N, a filthy goddamn mouth.”

Ignoring him, you gasp. “Christ, what is wrong with my vagina.” Looking under the sheet, you frown at just how wet you had become. “Hey, how about I get you off first?”

Putting his hands underneath his head, he whispers. “I’m not against that. Do as you please boss.”

Sitting up, you rustle beneath the sheets, sitting between Jungkook’s thighs. “You aren’t going to like that I’m going to take it slow so remember to take some deep breaths okay?”

With his eyes closed, he nods. “Did you want me to talk you through it?”

“Only if you think I’m doing a shit job.”

He whispers. “You won’t, but I can make you the queen of blow jobs if you want?”

“Fuck off Jungkook, i’m only doing this once.” Rolling your eyes, you lay down between his legs. You’ve always imagined being that person who takes it slow but considering how quickly you get turned on, you don’t think you’d ever have the patience.

Taking a deep breath, you start slow. “I’m just gonna get to know your body okay?”

He hums his response. “As you wish.”

Kissing the area above his knee, you press soft kisses up to his inner thigh. Jungkook hums with approval already feeling skittish when your hot breath hits his balls.

Caressing his thighs, you ask. “Can I suck on your balls? You can say no.”

“Fuck yeah, do whatever you want. Why would I say no to that.”

“I don’t fucking know. You were the one that emphasised asking because consent is important.” Kissing around his penis, you press open mouth kisses on his balls, taking each one into your mouth and sucking. You’re cringing as you do it because not only does he smell bad but because you’re so goddamn close to his butthole and you aren’t ready for that yet.

The reaction from Jungkook is explosive as he jerks against your face. “YoU’VE DONE THIS BEFORE WHAT THE FUCK.”

You cower at his expression. “Username Davidismydick94 told me to never neglect the huevos.”

Falling back onto his pillow, he says. “Well thank you Davidismydick94.”

“Can I continue…?”

“All night long.” he whispers and you lean back in. Pressing your fingertips on the underside of his cock, you lightly run your finger tips over the veins of his penis. It’s the first time you’ve been able to look at his penis in the eye but it’s enough to notice the slight curvature of it and the protruding ridges you think might feel good inside of you.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, leaning up on his elbows to watch you. “Are you teasing me?”

“Are veins good or bad on a penis?”

He looks at you with an alarmed expression. “Why? are they ugly?”

You look up at him before wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock and using the tip of your tongue to lick his up his veins. “Not at all. I like it, very sexy like your arms.”

Flattening your tongue, you don’t stray from his eye contact when you lick from the underside of his balls to the tip of his leaking head. His eyes are hazy from the feeling of your wet hot tongue and his heart is pounding at the innocent doe of your eyes.

“Jesus.” he moans.

“Why are you thinking of a man when I’m licking your balls?” you ask, blowing hot air on his balls. “Got something to tell me?”

“Says the one on her knees.”

“Touche and hell no am I trying to make you soft, getting you hard again would give me neck strain.” Swiping your tongue across the tip of his cock, Jungkook hisses at the feeling.

You focus your mouth on the tip as you hold the shaft with both hands. You’re confused but you don’t want to admit it. “How the fuck do I …do I just shove it in my mouth and suck on it?”

“Basically.” he replies.

“Well okay,” you reluctantly, open your mouth taking him in until your nose hits your fingers. Sucking, you hollow your cheeks before bravely moving your head down on him like how the movies do it. You massage his shaft with your tongue as you do it and Jungkook hums as you do it.

“Oh fuck.” he whimpers.

Taking your mouth off of him with a pop, you begin pumping his shaft as you lick down to his balls again, sucking on them gently. “Y/N, seriously fucking hell. You’re doing so well baby, so well.”

Licking back up to his head, you suck on him again, bobbing up and down to a nice rhythm. You’re thinking about what food to eat after this and why blow jobs are called blow jobs if you’re sucking on and it not blowing, when Jungkook moans your name loudly, pushing on your head to take more of him in. Sinking down to the base of his cock so your nose hits his pubic bone, his dick painfully hits the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck, your mouth feels so fucking insane, so good, so fucking good.” Tangling his fingers in your hair, he fucks into your mouth.

You continue to bob up and down his shaft and for a terrifying second, you think you might vomit on his dick.

Abort. Abort. Abort.

Quickly returning your hand to the base of his cock, you continue to safely massage your tongue around his head. Keeping a nice rhythm, you pump his shaft while sucking on the tip.

“Use your tongue. Like you’re sucking on your thumb, try that.” He suggests and you do exactly that.

He quivers against you, feeling a desperate need to fuck your mouth again. “I want to fuck your mouth so badly. Can I?”

Pumping him harder and faster, you stammer. “No way on this planet will you be fucking into my mouth again Jeon. I will vomit on your dick.”

“I don’t care what you do baby, you’re so damn beautiful when you do anything.”

You cringe at that. “So bloody entitled.”

Rolling your eyes, you lower your mouth to swallow him down to your fist. You feel comfortable with this as you let him thrust into your mouth. You never signed up for this amount of exercise and your body was beginning to ache at the effort but if you just lay like this and let him do all the work, it still counts right? Pulling a leg over Jungkook’s leg, you grind against his leg, desperate for some form of friction as you suck on his dick.

“Fuck, Y/N. I want to cum.” he chokes. He sounds like he’s tethering across a threshold and everything inside of you just wants to push him off already, no matter how insanely fucking sexy he sounds moaning your name.

Jungkook looks like a mess. You’ve never seen him so desperate to cum in his life. Then again, you haven’t seen him desperate to cum before.

He whines, stuttering his hips.

“I think I’m going to cum.” he says, wrapping your hair up into a ponytail and pulling tightly on it. You hum around his cock and Jungkook moans loudly, making you grind harder against him.

Removing your hand, you take him in as he thrusts down your throat. In a perfect world that wouldn’t be painful but as tears fall down your face, you can’t wait for this to be over.

“I’m going to cum. I’m coming.”

He tries to take his cock out of your mouth, but you slap him away, letting him finish in your mouth. He doesn’t deserve it but you know for a fact Jungkook would cum on your face if you didn’t.

He’s moaning recklessly before he cums down your throat and you’re goddamn thankful you didn’t eat before this because the taste of Jungkook’s abandoned children is not one compatible with the residual afternoon food in your stomach.

Falling into the sheets, he twitches in oversensitivity when you pull your mouth off with a pop. Patting his shaft goodbye, you roll over Jungkook’s leg to climb into the sheets beside him. Your heart’s pounding and you think you can hear Jungkook’s heart pounding too as he lifelessly lays beside you.

“You okay?” you ask.

Jungkook turns to you. “You’ve got cum on your face.” Wiping your face with the back of your thumb, you suck the residue off your finger. All Jungkook can do is stare at you as you do it.

“Why did you let me cum in your mouth? Not many girls like doing that?”

You roll your eyes, didn’t he want a compliment or something? “I can see why they wouldn’t. Did you know that you’re cum tastes fucking awful. I can already feel my blood pressure rising from how salty it was.”

“Really?”

You watch insecurity wash over his face. “Why are you looking at me like I kicked your dog?”

“Does it really taste bad…” “It just tastes …different from the inside of a kinder surprise is all,” you smile, trying to reassure him. “I swallowed because I read in this random academic text that semen was full of protein and I think I’m deficient because I keep saying really dumb things so I thought, why not two birds with one stone.”

He laughs before turning on his back. “Man, I’m pooped. I’m glad you got off too though, I nearly blew my load when I felt you grind your clit against my leg.”

“Who said I got off? You moved your leg when I was about to. Don’t judge me, I just like it when you moan and I needed some good o’l friction on me private parts, your leg was all I could reach. You sound so hot right before you cum by the way. I feel good about myself when you’re vocal when it feels good.” you admit, smiling at the ceiling.

“Speaking of,” Jungkook grins, before jumping between your legs. Grabbing his duvet, he pulls it over his back, before settling on his stomach between your thighs. “Rule 4: Reciprocacy. My turn.”

“You don’t have to Jungkook, seriously,” you push his sweaty head away from you. “It’s okay.”

He shakes his head. “No, I want to. I want you to feel just as good as you made me.”

“Fine,” you sigh, grabbing his pillow, you put it under your knees for him. There’s a moment of pure silence as Jungkook stares at your lady flower.

“What are you doing?” you ask, unable to decipher the look on his face. “Jungkook, why do I feel like I’m getting my pap smear?”

“Please don’t take offence to what I am about to say,” Jungkook looks up, staring at you. “But did you shave your vagina for me?”

Your cheeks glow red. “What? The vagina is the entrance, you know, the inside of the pink part.”

“You know what I mean,” he says, running a finger through your labia and over your clit. It makes you jolt. “But you did right?”

“I tried my best. I didn’t know if you liked pubes or not and frankly, I don’t give a fuck if you do or not. I wanted to be neat and fresh for myself and if you don’t want to eat me out because of my hair than you’re already missing out because she’s-”

“-shut up, will you. It’s your pussy, your rules. Just, be you and that is all I can ask for.” he smiles up at you and you cower away from his expression.

It was too intimate.

His hands were hot. Two furnaces as he pressed his palms on knees, slowly caressing up the soft skin of your thighs. Leaning his chin on the pillow half way under your ass, he presses soft kisses on your pubic area -much like how you did to him.

Pulling your legs wider, he plants your feet outside of his shoulders. Making himself more comfortable. “Yeah go on, make yourself at home down there.”

“I plan to,” he admits. “You smell good.”

“Those comments make me feel awkward.”

Shoving a fist in your mouth, you whimper against your knuckles as he tenderly kisses just above your slit. “Don’t be.”

Dipping his tongue between your folds, he cups his mouth around the top of your slit, pushing his tongue against the hood of your clit.

“Oh good lord,” you whisper. He repeats the movements of his tongue in figure 8s when your hands fly to his hair as you quiver beneath him. You like this image, his head between your thighs, his large hands around your thighs. “Right there, keeping doing that thing. Spell out Micky Mouse or something.”

Rolling his tongue up and down, you buck your hips against his mouth in a loud half whimper half meow. Obviously, you hadn’t expected to make such a noise and when Jungkook looks up at you with your juices glistening on his chin, you get embarrassed immediately at that stupid look on his face.

He grins. “What was that?”

“No idea,” Biting your lip, you shake your head as you look left and right. “Wasn’t me.”

Smiling in amusement, he adjusts your legs, so each one sits on his shoulders now. With both hands gripping your thighs, he dives back in. It’s more passionate now, he wants you to finish just as good as you did to him.

You stare at the ceiling, never wanting this feeling to stop. It feels like you’re breaking and you don’t ever want to get fixed if this is how good it feels being broken.

He licks every part of you in every pattern and motion your brain can be bothered to form in your mind. If you focus hard enough, you think he might be spelling out his name but who knows, who cares anyway.

“Jungkook.” you moan, closing your eyes. Sucking your labia into his mouth, he twirls his tongue all over it, trying to find the spots that make you moan the loudest.

He growls when you whimper his name again.

Arching your back off the bed at a particular spot, he tilts his head to the side, bringing your lips into his. Gently sliding his tongue all over it. He looks up at you, eyes clenched closed, hands grippin the sheets for dear life. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen and his heart fucking implodes at the sight.

Flattening his tongue again, he dips his tongue between your folds. Incoherent high pitched moans flutter aimlessly from your lips, slipping past the fist you shoved into you mouth trying to make yourself shut up.

“Does this feel good?” he asks, and you shove his head back as a response.

“Of course it does.” you whimper, biting down hard on your bottom lip. Using his other hand, he trails his finger down your clit. “Can I finger you?”

“Like, put your fingers in my vagina?”

“Yes.”

“Be my guest homeboy.”

Slowly pushing in his index finger into your entrance, you quiver at the weird feeling as he pumps into you. Keeping a rhythm with his tongue, he suddenly flattens it, you grind your hips against his wide flat tongue as he inserts another finger into you.

“Shit, that’s a weird feeling.”

“Is it bad?” he asks.

You shake your head. “Nope, it’s a good kind of weird.”

Hooking his fingers up inside you, he slowly pumps into you with a smile on his face. It’s messy and it’s loud and you’re thankful that you put on music because you’re so wet and the sound is gross and you don’t want to remember it when you wake up from this stupor. Leaning forward, he moans as he covers your clit with his mouth, sucking on it gently. Massaging your g spot, he pumps his fingers into you faster and harder as he licks, feeling your walls clamp down on his finger. God, you’re so tight. He can only imagine how you might feel when he pounds you into his sheets and even that thought is enough to make him hard again.

“I think I’m going to cum. I think.” you choke, becoming restless beneath him.

Jungkook groans against you as you whine, bucking your hips against his face. Using his thumb to massage your clit, he thanks the heavens for his gamer fingers as he pulls his fingers into a “come here” expression inside of you. He puts all of his energy into doing that quick and hard inside of you as he watches your hands grabs out to your breasts, squeezing them for dear life.

“You close? God, you look amazing.” he says, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your clit. You pant, feeling your orgasm sneak up behind you. You’re so close you can feel it breathe down your neck.

“If this is what you’re like with my fingers, oh man, I want to fuck you so hard, you’ll see stars.”

“Jungkook you fuck.” you scream, arching your back as high as you can, reaching a blinding white peak of your high. You quiver underneath him as he removes his fingers, gently suckling on your clit.

You whimper his name again, writhing beneath him as you cum on his face.

Falling back to the bed, your thighs shake as Jungkook laps at your juices. Feeling oversensitive and gross, you languidly push him away.

You’re still on that high when he pushes himself off the bed, standing up to grab one of his clean basketball shirts.

Wiping your thighs, he licks his lips as you watch him through tired eyes. You’re still panting. Your heart is still racing. And your groin is still recovering.

Falling onto his side of the bed, he says. “I’ll let you stay over just because I know how wrecked you are but if you fuck me up tomorrow morning, just know that it was because you stayed and broke the rule.”

Punching his arm, you frown heavily at the brown haired boy. “Shut the fuck up Jungkook, don’t ruin this for me.”

“Did it feel goood?”

You nod. “More than good. I think I just had my first orgasm. I mean, I don’t know if I did but yes, it felt really really good.”

“You had an orgasm?” Raising his eyebrows, he pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Well, I am that good.”

“Fuck, you can’t be humble for even a second of your life,” you twist yourself out of his bedsheets, sitting up on the side of the bed. “I’m getting an uber.”

“Hey,” he asks, sitting up behind you. Placing little kisses over your shoulder blade, he whispers into your skin. “It’s late, just stay here. We can have cold pizza in the morning and we can make out in the shower.”

“As much as I like the sound of that idea …I’m going to pass on that,” grabbing your phone, you open up the uber app. “I like kissing you and if you keep doing it, I’m going to want to do it all the time.”

“Really?” he asks, leaning his chin on the junction between your head and your neck.

You nod.

“I’m fine with that.” Jungkook slaps your phone out of your hand and you watch it fall to the floor before you could even confirm your pick up destination. Pulling you back to the mattress and against his chest, he quickly grabs the blanket and throws it over you both.

“You’re staying,” he whispers, rubbing his nose against your cheek. You turn to him, rubbing your nose against his. “Oh my god Jungkook, you were the one who made the rules. What are you doing?”

You can feel him smile before he closes the space to kiss you. “Rules were meant to be broken anyway.”

“Oh for fuck sake Jeon. Get your shit together.”

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bangtan imagines #bangtan smut #fuck #nsfw-bts

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educxtional · 7 years ago

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I was really struggling this week. Working way too hard, skipping breaks and meals, not staying hydrated, not showering, not taking my meds. it was bad. even at the busiest times, self-care is so so important. if I needed help, then I'm probably not the only one. all of these lil ideas are small and relatively easy and I highly doing something nice for yourself, even if it’s not on the list. hope you all have a wonderful day/week/year.

(my personal favourites in bold)

drink some cold water

wash your hands and face with cool water

make some tea

get a blanket and snuggle it around you

snuggle an animal/stuffed animal

buy your favorite candy from the gas station

close your eyes and listen to your fav song on repeat for 10 mins

put on some throwback jams (high school musical, mamma mia, 90s, u do u) and dance around ur room in ur undies

make a calming playlist

call a friend/relative just to say hi and hear someone else’s voice

rewatch cute/funny/happy clips from ur fav tv show/band/movie on youtube

put on a skirt and twirl (yes boys/agenders/trans u can do this too)

scribble really hard with black pen on a blank page and scream

look at the sky/moon/sunset/sunrise/stars

write

watch kitten/puppy/small animal live streams on youtube

go outside, even if its just by ur front door, and take some deep breaths

eat something - fruit, veggies are best

change ur contacts/clean ur glasses if you wear those

change your underwear

if u can't get urself to shower, wash off w a damp washcloth/baby wipe

put on a cute/comfy outfit that makes you feel good about urself

dont put eye makeup on so you can rub your eyes & they wont feel heavy

stretch, do some yoga or meditate

get a breathing/meditation app and use it (headspace is gr8)

take a nap

go to bed before 11 pm

brush your teeth

turn off bright harsh lights and use smaller, warmer lamps

unplug. give your eyes/brain a break from screens for a half hour

get one of those pet/family apps/games and care for someone else for a change

find cool people on tumblr and send them anonymous compliments (that you actually think are true - spread love)

find a quote, write it/print it nicely and stick it on ur wall

watch a new movie

boil some cinnamon sticks/vanilla bean for 5 mins so ur house smells pretty. if in ur room, use essential oil drops or candles

make your bed

vacuum

wipe down ur desk w some disinfectant

clean something - a backpack, small area, fluff ur pillow, put away one shirt

do your makeup all pretty and nice just because/dress up just because

research into your dream job/vacation/city/whatever

open up pages/canva/photshop/etc and make something just for fun

build a fort and crawl under it

find an easy diy and do it/ be proud of ur creative genius

make a list of things that make you happy. stick it somewhere you’ll see it all the time

print a picture of someone/thing that’s pissing u off and throw things at it (tape it to a dart board if u have one)

reread a book that makes you happy

clip your nails, clean the dirt from under them

send some good old fashioned snail mail to someone u like just for fun

take some selfies if you’re feelin it (see #40)

fuzzy socks. enough said.

make yourself a fancy meal/cocktail/coffee/tea latte/drink/whatevs

open ur window or put on a fan/air purifier. get some air circulating

draw, even if u think u suck.

reach out to kids help phone (canada) or a suicide hotline if you need to talk to someone about more serious matters. you deserve help and care and support. (message me if you need resources)

donate to a local animal shelter (if u have the means obviously)

go for a walk/run/bike ride

put on a face mask

take a bubble path

shave ur legs and moisturize

moisturize

bake some cookies

go on spotify/youtube and find some new music you love

make a really fun upbeat playlist for next time u get the aux cord

scroll through some wholesome or funny meme accounts. whatever you’re in the mood for.

take some cool pictures of whatever you want

change up your room in any small ( or big) way that you can

teach urself a new skill on youtube (simple like a hair style, or complicated like an instrument, whatever u want)

sign up to volunteer at a library/homeless shelter/soup kitchen/retirement home/daycare center/etc. help those who need it. be giving.

put on sad music and cry. let ur mascara run. be dramatic. let it out.

put rock music on and stomp and scream throw (soft) things. let it out.

teach urself the words to a fast rap song thats cool right now so you can impress ur friends/classmates/family

print off some kid colouring pages and dont stay inside the lines

brush your hair, take it out of a ponytail if its been like that for a while, or put it up if its down and in ur way

diy a hair mask (coconut oil) and do that

exfoliate ur whole body and feel like a whole new person

clear out ur phone/laptop. delete old messages, numbers of people u dont like/hang out with, get rid of photos of shitty friends, apps u dont use, etc

find cards against humanity online (or if u have it use the cards) and play with urself - make funny matches just because

empty a drawer (or multiple) and fold ur stuff neatly

do something that will make u sweat (gym, dance, clean) then take a nice shower

take a second to listen to ur body. unclench muscles that are clenched, fix ur poster, massage/stretch tight areas

move to a different area of the house for a little while. clear ur head.

go out, anywhere. window shop, go to a coffee shop/library and work. people watch if ur broke.

update your planner

make Pinterest board/real life vision of things that make you happy for when in this situation again

find a youtuber you like and watch their videos

lie on the floor, listen to music and do nothing for a while

give yourself a pep talk in the mirror and then stand like superman for a few mins. sounds silly but it works. its called powerposing. look it up.

repeating this bc important: hydrate!!!

start a new tv show

order something online so u have something to look forward to

go sit with a family member and keep them company. u dont have to talk to them.

the app ‘trump dump’ will make u feel better about the current us political situation

read happy news: find stories of students doing something cool, women kicking ass, men being amazing, whatever. bonus points if this inspires u

sort your garbage from recycling and help the environment

smile at people you see just because. smiling is good and nice.

look at old pictures of u and ur fav people

go through old yearbooks and take a second to appreciate how far you’ve come

go to a park and watch kids play. remember what it’s like to be young. realize you are still young. go on the swings and go as high as u can

play in a sandbox just because u still can

xo soph

#mine #my post #my posts #self care #self love #mental health #mentalhealth #selfcare #self-care #universi-tea #hey emma #heyabby #hey abby #emmastudies #heysareena #hufflepuffwannabe

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lookwhatilost · 6 years ago

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cool, i have an hour to kill so im jst going to answer this dumb ask meme that i saw on my dash under a cut, bc i definitely do not have enough followers to engage w stuff like this the normal way

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? spotify

is your room messy or clean? messy

what color are your eyes? brown

do you like your name? why? i’ve hated it for as long as i can remember. thinking it’s jst the combination of it being an unusual first name, being picked on for it a lot bc kids are mean, and having everyone around me insist that i’d love my name come adulthood bc it never ended up happening. i still want to change it legally but i have to figure out something i won’t tire of. “jackie” is working for now but idk abt committing to that one

what is your relationship status? disinterested

describe your personality in 3 words or less turbulent

what color hair do you have? dark brown

what kind of car do you drive? color? blue honda civic

where do you shop? forever 21, h&m, a few places online

how would you describe your style? trying too hard

favorite social media account i like kbnoswag on twitter lmao

what size bed do you have? queen

any siblings? jst col and my two step sisters

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? probably anchorage bc it’s scenic, the housing/rental market is abt the same as it is here, but the wages tend to be higher

favorite snapchat filter? when they make special versions of the dog filter for different holidays... i love those

favorite makeup brand(s) nyx mainly

how many times a week do you shower? i do it every day but if im in a shitty place mentally, i wont on my days off

favorite tv show? bojack horseman

shoe size? 9

how tall are you? 5′7″

sandals or sneakers? sneakers

do you go to the gym? i work out but i dnt go to a gym bc i’ve always had exercise equipment at home and my apartment has a fitness center, so i cant justify paying for a membership

describe your dream date i dream abt other things

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? $70

what color socks are you wearing? blue

how many pillows do you sleep with? 4 bc i love only using 2 and then kicking the other ones off my bed somehow when im asleep

do you have a job? what do you do? yeah, i’ve been doing hair for 4 odd years now

how many friends do you have? a decent handful but i only consider myself very close w two of them

whats the worst thing you have ever done? a lot probably but nothing rly sticks out to me as the objective “worst”

whats your favorite candle scent? yankee candle makes one called “golden sands” and i like that one a lot

3 favorite boy names/3 favorite girl names for various rzns i’d rather not answer the baby names question. pass

favorite actor? i can’t think of one off the top of my head, but i like jim carrey a lot

favorite actress? amy adams!

who is your celebrity crush? i’m not invested in famous ppl like that, but if you asked me this when i was 12, i’d have said pete wentz lmfao. probably my only one ever

favorite movie? this is hard lol. arrival, interstellar, and gone girl come to mind, though

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? i do. difficult to pick favorites bc i like more nonfiction stuff... i liked a brief history of time a lot

money or brains? brains. i have my own money

do you have a nickname? what is it? jackie is technically a nickname i guess. fati calls me “salvadore” and i hate it w a passion

how many times have you been to the hospital? a lot but i’ve only stayed there for an extended period 3 times

top 10 favorite songs stop they’re all special to me in different ways...

do you take any medications daily? i did for a while

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) oily

what is your biggest fear? nothing that hasn’t already happened lol

how many kids do you want? none

whats your go to hair style? i cut it into a bob periodically and let it grow out until it annoys me, rinse and repeat til i die

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) average?

who is your role model? no one. all people are jst people

what was the last compliment you received? probably someone calling me smart or something. i hear it a lot but i dnt rly believe it

what was the last text you sent? “yes binch”

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? probably pretty young if i was ever lead to believe it period. i dnt remember ever having any faith in that

what is your dream car? i had my dream car and it was more of a hassle than anything. a good metaphor for life, probably

opinion on smoking? cigarettes? do whatever you want. weed? do whatever you want, but stop saying it cures cancer. meth/crack? maybe you should chill

do you go to college? that didn’t work out

what is your dream job? being able to sustain myself without one

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? suburbs definitely. lived in rural areas before. driving 30 minutes one way to the grocery store is not something i ever feel inclined to experience again.

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? depends on what they are

do you have freckles? yes

do you smile for pictures? only when my mom makes me

how many pictures do you have on your phone? 2377

have you ever peed in the woods? no

do you still watch cartoons? i mean bojack is a cartoon. but ones for children, no

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? stan wendy

Favorite dipping sauce? chick fil a sauce

what do you wear to bed? long old tshirt and this jacket i have from middle school typically lol. i have 3 actual pairs of pajamas though

have you ever won a spelling bee? i’ve never had an opportunity to even enroll in one. my schools never ran them

what are your hobbies? i read and write a lot, still trying to kill the rolling stone 500 albums list, i paint sometimes, jst general Bitch Desperate For Escapism things

can you draw? i used to a lot more than i do now but i’m still halfway decent at it

do you play an instrument? guitar & bass. i’m better at bass. i’m better at guitar hero but that dznt count

what was the last concert you saw? fall out boy i think? i’m having trouble remembering if that was before or after roger waters

tea or coffee? both but tea is a little easier to make so i drink more of it

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? bux. jesus christ

do you want to get married? not planning on it

what is your crush’s first and last initial? i’m too disillusioned to feel that way abt ppl rn

are you going to change your last name when you get married? definitely not

what color looks best on you? pastels

do you miss anyone right now? yeah but it dznt matter

do you sleep with your door open or closed? closed

do you believe in ghosts? absolutely

what is your biggest pet peeve? when customers make a scissor cutting motion w their hands when they’re describing their haircut to me. it’s sooooo weird and stupid and idg why so many people do it

last person you called` ian

favorite ice cream flavor? mint chocolate chip

regular oreos or golden oreos? regular

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? i hate sprinkles bc they are pointless

what shirt are you wearing? a tank top

what is your phone background? my lock screen is a pic i took of the lacey street theater in fairbanks the first time i was there. my background is a pic i took in denali when i was there w ian

are you outgoing or shy? i want to socialize but i dnt know how. shy i guess?

do you like it when people play with your hair? no, honestly i find it rly unpleasant

do you like your neighbors? katie and alexis are the best drinking buddies anyone could ask for. isaac is great. everyone else i could take or leave

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? yes and both

have you ever been high? yeah

have you ever been drunk? constantly

last thing you ate? 1/2 of a jimmy johns veggie club

favorite lyrics right now uhhhh idk i dnt get stuck on music like that

summer or winter? winter

day or night? night

dark, milk, or white chocolate? i dnt rly like chocolate

favorite month? october

what is your zodiac sign gemini

who was the last person you cried in front of? ian

#Ask memes

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waywardnerd67 · 7 years ago

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The Best Part of Me - The Devil’s Den

Summary: The find the hunting ground is a local dance club. (Y/N) and Dean go undercover but their plan goes all wrong. Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Fluff/Angst Word Count: 3667 A/N: As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

Sam shook (Y/N) awake first. She looked up at Sam groggily and then felt Dean move under her. “Good morning you two.” He said as they both looked at one another. “Not that I’m not pleased to see you, but how did you end up on my lap?” Dean asked as she got off him. “I was trying to wake you up so you could sleep on the bed, but you pulled me on your lap asking for five more minutes. I must have fell asleep too.” Dean snickered as he scratched the back of his head. “Dean, we need to get going to talk to the head detective to see if we can link any of the victims together. (Y/N), can you do some research online about the women?” She nodded as Dean grabbed his Fed suit and went into the bathroom to get ready. She pulled out her laptop and began researching each of the girls’ names. Once Dean was ready to go, they left waving to her as she continued researching. She remembered the song Dean had been listening to and looked it up on her Spotify account. She began listening to the lyrics and tears came to her eyes thinking about her feelings for Dean. (Y/N) thought the song was a little sappy for Dean and wondering if the song had any special meaning to him. She put the song on repeat and went back to her research.

A few hours later, the brothers came walking back in. Dean loosen his tie and fell back onto his bed. “Rough time?” she asked as Dean gave her a thumbs up. Sam walked in kicking off his shoes and sitting next to her. “The cops think they just left town so they have nothing. What did you find out?” (Y/N) smiled and handed her notes to Sam. “Seriously, is there nothing you can’t find on the web?” Sam asked as he flipped through her notes. “Well, in this case, it was really easy. All three of them were at the same bar picking up guys hours before they went missing. I don’t know if this really matters or not, but they all went to the same high school as well. Funny enough it was the high school I went too.” Dean sat up and looked at Sam, “That is either a really big coincidence or…” Sam started as Dean finished his thought, “(Y/N) is being targeted.” She shook her head, “That’s impossible guys. How could I be targeted? I have basically been living in the bunker for the last year. I only go out when I have one of you with me. Who would want to target me?” Sam sighed running his hand through his long brown hair, “She has a point Dean. It may just be coincidence since this a small town.” She nodded agreeing, “Let’s just come up with a plan and go from there. We know I’m the dragon’s exact type and he is picking them up from the same bar.”

Dean was now pacing taking off his tie and jacket leaving him in dress pants and a white button-down shirt making it hard for her to concentrate. “I don’t like this. Something feels off. Let’s go over everything. Where is he taking them from?” Sam looked at (Y/N)’s notes, “A place called The Devil’s Den. What a great name for a bar.” (Y/N) laughed, “It’s not really a bar but more of a dance club.” She groaned, “I’m going to need to go buy an outfit that is going to completely embarrass me. Awesome.” Dean and Sam both started laughing. “I wouldn’t be laughing because you two are going to have to buy something to wear in this club as well and that means going to a mall. Jerks.” Now Sam and Dean looked horrified at one another. They then played rock, paper, scissor to see who was going in with her and Dean loss. October in Missouri was usually a hit or miss month with weather. Luckily, it seemed that the weather was going to be nice and warm. Dean and (Y/N) walked into the local mall where she watched all the women stare at Dean. He was in a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black undershirt and his normal jeans with boots. “Why is everyone staring at me?” He asked as (Y/N) giggled, “You look like a Greek god in flannel. Face it Winchester, you’re a pretty boy.” Dean smirked and then shrugged nonchalantly. “Well this is your territory so where do we go for clothes in here?” Dean asked as (Y/N) pulled him into a store called Express Men.

Dean immediately felt out of place and wanted to run. “You know what, I trust you to buy me whatever you think I need to wear. I will just wait for you outside with Sammy in the car.” Dean started to leave, but (Y/N) grabbed him. “Dean Winchester get your butt back here. I need you to stay so I can get the right fit and size. Look, here comes a gorgeous lady to help us. Just flirt with her and forget about the fact you are uncomfortable.” A young blonde came right up to him asking if she could help him with anything. Before (Y/N) could say anything, Dean dismissed her, “No, my girl here wants me to get all fancy so she is all the help I need. Thanks though.” The blonde turned looking at her then to Dean and then walked away without a word. She hit Dean’s shoulder hard causing him to flinch. “What the hell?” he asked rubbing his throbbing shoulder. “We might actually need her help, jerk. Come on big baby.” She dragged him further into the store. She asked him his size in shirt and pants which got him hit again when he made a joke about being big in important areas.

As (Y/N) pushed Dean into a dressing room he was actually impressed with her choices. She picked a solid dark red button-down shirt that fit like his Fed shirts. She picked out a pair of dark blue jeans and a simple black blazer. Everything fit perfectly and he had to laugh at himself looking like a complete douche. “Come on Dean, let me see so I can decide if we need to change anything.” He stepped out and saw a group of ladies who worked there stop immediately what they were gossiping about to look at him. (Y/N) had her back to the dressing room but knew exactly when he had stepped out. All the women in the store were staring past her to Dean. She turned and her jaw nearly dropped. He no longer looked like a hunter, but like a gorgeous model on the cover of GQ. “Wo-ow, Dean you clean up nice.” Her eyes traveled from his feet all the way up to the cocky smirk on his face. “Thanks, I am officially a douche now.” He smiled big and went back into the dressing room. She laughed, “That is what we were kind of going for.” (Y/N) took a deep breath and turned to look at a pair of nice looking boots to go with his outfit.

The blonde came up to her, “Sorry about earlier. He is the best-looking man I have seen in a while so whatever you have done to get him keep it up because wow is he a catch.” (Y/N) smiled, “He saved my life and the only thing I have done is be myself. Really, he is…” Dean cut her off by putting his arm around her waist saying, “Hey babe, are we getting those boots as well? I need a size twelve, do you have them in that size?” He asked as the blonde nodded going into the back room to get them. (Y/N) shook her head at Dean, “What? I would rather be yours than anyone else’s.” He said simply as he put the clothes on the counter. She felt her face heating up as Dean paid for all his clothes. “For Chuck’s sake, three-hundred dollars for one outfit!” She laughed as Dean had sticker shock as they walked out of the store. “Come on, now it is my turn to be embarrassed.” Dean clapped and rubbed his hands evilly. As they walked into Torrid, someone called out to (Y/N). “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)! (Y/N), hey wait up!” Dean felt her tense up as a woman with short brown hair came running up to her.

“Wow, Mandy really great to see you.” She tried to say with a smile on her face. The one person in this world she did not want to see was the woman standing in front of her now. As if things could not get worse, (Y/N)’s ex-boyfriend came up behind Mandy. “(Y/N)? Wow, it’s been a long time. How have you been?” Justin Wilhelm asked as he put an arm around Mandy. She gritted her teeth and then put on her best smile and most pleasant fake voice she could muster. “I have been alright Justin. Just in town for a few days for some business. How are you two?” She felt Dean’s arm come around her waist, “Hey, I’m Dean, by the way, the boyfriend.” (Y/N) looked up at him with a confused look and then nodded, “Yeah, sorry this is Mandy Shilder and Justin Wilhelm. We all went to school together.” Dean shook Justin’s hand and squeezed it a little tighter than he needed too. “Actually, it will be Mandy Wilhelm in a week. We are excited about the wedding and here to pick a few odd items up.” Mandy was beaming as Justin just stared at (Y/N) and Dean’s hand tightly on her hip. “Congratulations, I’m sure you both will have a happy marriage and life together. We shouldn’t keep you then. We’re just here to pick up something to wear this evening. Great seeing you both.” Dean nodded as they walked into the store. (Y/N) looked back to see Mandy giving Justin an ear full. She took a deep shaky breath to calm down as Dean stared at her.

“Who was the douche?” He asked. She looked up to see that Dean had a stern look on his face. “Justin and I dated on and off throughout college. I caught him cheating on me with Mandy. To say they are my least favorite people in the world is a great understatement. Now, can we please find me a godforsaken dress and get out of this hellhole.” Dean nodded as he mumbled, “Took the words right out of my mouth, sweetheart.” They were all back at the motel as Sam and Dean went over the game plan for the night. Dean was also complaining about not getting to see (Y/N) in her dress. “It is only fair I would get approval of your dress since you approved of my clothes.” She huffed in annoyance, “Dean, you will see it when we go into the club. We’re not going together but you will see me as I leave her all dolled up. You got to see my shoes.” Dean let out a groan that only Sam heard thinking about the black heels that she picked out. Sam chuckled as he shook his head.

(Y/N) was starting to get nervous and still had an hour before she needed to start getting ready. Sam was laying down listening to his podcast and Dean was showering since she was going to be needing to bathroom for a long time. She decided to go outside and clean Baby off. She opened the trunk to grab the extra cleaning supplies she kept in there. She had special cleaner and towels for quick cleanings whenever the guys were on the road. Baby really did not need cleaning but it would help relax her so she started at the trunk and had made it all the way around to the front hood when Dean spotted her. He watched from the doorway as (Y/N) skillfully cleaned his car. She had her earbuds in and was swaying her hips to whatever song she was listening too. Dean sighed happily watching her and feeling his heart swell. He remembered hearing her say he was making her fall in love with him and it wasn’t fair, but she was equally making him fall in love with her as well. Her song changed to something more upbeat as she started dancing a little more. Then she surprised him by singing part of the song out loud, “Get down, swaying to my own sound, flashes in my face now, all I know is everybody loves me, everybody loves me.”

Dean was amazed by her voice and how beautiful it was. “I didn’t know she could sing.” Sam said startling Dean. “Dude!” Sam laughed which got the attention of (Y/N). “Hi guys, what’s up?” Dean was clenching his chest as Sam laughed even harder. “Nothing, Sam just scaring the crap out of me. Hey, I didn’t know you sang?” She turned bright red, “Uh, yeah I was in choirs throughout high school and college. I’m not very good but I enjoy singing. Dean, are you done in the bathroom? I need to start getting ready.” Dean nodded as she put away her cleaning supplies in the trunk. After an hour of (Y/N) being in the bathroom, Dean was getting worried. He was dressed, ready to go and getting tired of Sam’s teasing. “(Y/N), are you almost ready? I’m going to kill Sam if you don’t get out here soon.” She sighed, “I will be out in a few minutes. Do not kill your brother.” She looked in the mirror one last time to make sure she make-up looked alright. It had been so long since she had done her make-up that it was like relearning how too. She was satisfied with her smoky eye look and red lip stick which was the same color and brand that the other woman had worn. She had bought a curling iron so she could curl her long hair which she had pinned to one side and cascading over her shoulder. She opened the door and stepped out as she was smoothing her short strapless emerald party dress.

She was putting on her shoes when she noticed Sam and Dean looking at her funny. “What? Do I look bad?” she asked as every insecurity she had flew through her mind. Sam spoke up first, “(Y/N), you look fantastic. Wow, we’re just used to seeing you dressed like us.” She smiled taking a deep breath and then turned her attention to Dean. He looked amazing in his new clothes and boots, but something was not quite right. “Dean, let me fix your hair.” She went back into the bathroom and came out with a bottle. “What’s wrong with my hair?” He asked before letting her touch it. She giggled, “It’s not douchey enough.” He chuckled as he sat down on his bed allowing (Y/N) to easily fix his hair. She stood in between his legs and was right at breast level with her. He closed his eyes and swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. He enjoyed feeling her hands work through his hair and then imagine how it would feel with her doing that as he did other things to her. “Okay, Dean you can open your eyes now.” She was looking at him funny and his jeans were a little tighter now in a certain area.

He got up and looked in the mirror seeing that now she was right and he was full on douchebag material. “Alright boys, let’s get this over with and gank a dragon. Words I never thought I would say.” They laughed as Sam opened the door for her. They drove the twenty minutes to the club. (Y/N) and Dean got out of the car as Sam was going to stay and watch the back door. “If I see anything I will call Dean’s cell.” Sam said as her and Dean gave him a thumbs up. “Alright, I will go in first then you come in a few minutes later.” she said as Dean nodded. As they rounded the corner out of sight of Sam and not quite to the club entrance Dean grabbed (Y/N)’s arm and spun her around. “Dean, what are you doing?” She asked right before feeling his soft lips on hers. She melted into his arms as she kissed him back. He pulled away first, “If anything happens tonight then I don’t want to regret never have kissed you.” She looked up at him through her lashes and softly wiped the red lipstick off his lips. “Nothing is going to happen, Dean. You have my back which means I will be the most protected lady in the place. I trust you fully.” She began to walk away and then turned back to him, “By the way, best kiss I have ever had Winchester. I’ll be thinking about that all night now.” She smiled as she left him with a dumbfounded look on his face. “I swear, I am going to marry that woman.” He mumbled to himself.

As Dean entered the club, the music was thumping loudly. He made his way to the bar and ordered a beer as he looked around for (Y/N). He found her sitting at a table talking with a couple of guys. Immediately Dean wanted to go over there but she made eye contact with him and slightly shook her head. She continued her over the top flirting with the two guys. Dean felt his phone vibrate as he took a long drink of his beer. “Heads up, a man in a black suit is walking in the back entrance. Keep your eyes on (Y/N) and I don’t mean undressing her either.” Sam said as Dean groaned. “Dude, this is my worst nightmare seeing all these guys hit on her.” He heard Sam sighing, “Alright, alright I will keep my eyes on her and a man in black suit.” Dean ended the call before Sam could start his lecturing. He glanced over towards her table and saw her heading out to the dance floor.

Dean finished his beer and order two shots of their strongest alcohol. The woman who he was falling in love with was dressed in a sexy lowcut short dress and was being grinded on by douchebags. Dean threw back the two shots quickly and decided he needed to pass along Sam’s message to her. He walked out to the dance floor and right behind (Y/N). He glared at the two guys who took the hint to leave. She turned around as the song changed to Nick Jonas “Jealous”. She started laughing, “This is literally your song right now.” Dean was not paying attention to the song at all. He grabbed (Y/N)’s hips pulling her closer to him and she put her arms around his neck. He leaned down and spoke next to her ear, “Sam says a guy in a black suit came in the back entrance. Keep your eyes out for him because he could be our guy.” She nodded as she turned in his arms pushing her butt right up against Dean’s crotch. His grip on her hips tighten and she could hear him groan. “How is it that you are a virgin but you know how to dance provocatively and driving me crazy?” he grunted as she began to swing her hips around in a small circle twirling slowly in front of him.

She put one arm around his neck and the other on his shoulder. Leaning up to his ear and saying, “I may be a virgin but it’s not my first time at a club. Plus, I have watched porn before just never had the right person to reenact it with.” She smiled wickedly as Dean let his head fall back with a moan. The song ended and he let her go but not before whispering, “After tonight your virginity will not be a problem for long, beautiful.” She smiled and put her hand on his cheek patting it. “Promises, promises. I’ll happily be waiting for you.” She turned and walked back to her table where a drink was waiting for her. Dean stalked back to his corner of the bar and ordered two more shots. It was going to be a long night for Dean watching (Y/N). After she drank what was waiting for her she felt kind of funny. That is when a tall, dark and handsome guy in a black suit came up to her. “Hello darling,” he said with a British accent. (Y/N) tried to say something but she felt sluggish. She looked for Dean but could not make out where he was. “Looks like you may need a ride home. Let me help you.” The gentleman said smoothly. She tried to get away or say something all she saw was black.

Dean looked up to see that (Y/N) was gone. He had only looked away for moment and now he was frantically looking for her everywhere. He even barged into the ladies’ restroom scaring a few of them but held up his FBI badge. When he went up to the bartender he showed a picture of (Y/N) he had on his phone. “Have you seen this girl? She was wearing a green dress and had guys all over tonight?” The bartender shook his head and Dean slammed his fist on the bar. “Look again, did you see her leave? This is important.” The bartender rolled his eyes, “I think she left with Mr. Barker. He is a regular who is known to leave with a different girl every time he comes in.” Dean cursed and ran outside to Sam who was getting out of the car when he saw a frantic Dean. “Sammy, she’s gone. She’s gone!”

My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @waywardrose13 @ladywinchester1967 @carryonmywaywardcaptain

#waywardnerd67 #the best part of me series #the devil's den #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #supernatural

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saracen-panic · 7 years ago

Text

Workout

Mark x Reader

Genre: Fluff / smut, idk it always starts with fluff and then smut knocks on your door and you just have to let it in idk idk idk

Word Count: 3k what the heck

Summary: Well, you have a hard time moving and Mark tries to be helpful?

Author’s Note: Damn Mark was my first bias when they debuted and they were like babies back then, and now he’s just being rude

Thank god it was Friday. You don’t think you’d be able to go to work tomorrow after what happened today.

The muscles in your arms were practically screaming for you to stop making so much movements. If your body had a mind of its own, it would have just dropped dead at your front door before you could even think about heading for your bed. It’s a good thing it doesn’t though because you’re not spending the Friday night on a cold floor.

You kicked your heels off and dumped your bag on the kitchen table along with your earphones, wristwatch, and glasses. Your put on your Spotify playlist on your phone’s loudspeaker, (shakily) tied up your hair in a messy bun and quickly stripped your clothes off before going in the toilet.

You planned on taking a hot bath instead, but with basically your entire body aching, you wouldn’t want to risk the chance of drowning in your own tub and make an embarrassment of yourself after you’ve died.

You took a quick hot shower and though the muscle above your chest made a real fuss when you tried to wrap your towel around yourself, you exited to your room and just lied down under the fan with your back on your bed, untying your hair which was a bit sweaty.

It was only a bit after 5PM and you just wanted to sleep off the pain. As you were about to doze off, your phone went off. You would’ve ignored it but there was only person you set that ringtone to and you weren’t going to miss it for the world.

You picked it up and put it on speaker. You groaned instead of saying ‘hello’.

“Babe? You there?”

“Yeah” you croaked.

“You okay, princess?” Mark asked softly. Not soft enough apparently because you hear Jackson, Bambam and Yugyeom going off on ‘princess’ at the background, teasing Mark to death. You also hear Jaebum telling them to shut it, but even that wasn’t enough.

You laughed in response. GOT7’s currently having their comeback so it’s that time again where you’d be spending less time with your boyfriend but it’s not something you’re not used to. You do miss the boys though.

“I’m okay, just tired. What’s up?” you asked.

“You sure? I mean I’m planning on coming over anyway so I’ll see how you’re doing” he went on.

“Wait what?” you mumbled.

“Ah yeah, Music Bank is cancelled and the manager-hyung gave us the day off until tomorrow morning before Music Core. We’re just about to leave the dressing room. I’m coming over okay. Need anything?”

“Just you” you groaned, because you moved, well, tried to move, your hand to reach for your phone.

As if the people in the background knew what you were talking about, you heard Jackson screaming at the top of his lungs and Bambam and Yugyeom going “why why why” and you just knew Jackson was eavesdropping on the conversation, placing his ear at the other side of Mark’s phone.

You could also just imagine the scene unfolding in front of Mark because of that misunderstanding: Jackson being the gossip king that he is and spilling everything he heard and the maknae line just going “woo ooo ohh” and “gET IT MARK” all over the room and completely reading the context wrong.

You heard Mark grumble at the other end of the line and you tried to hold your laughter because laughing actually hurts your abdomen so you just smiled really wide instead.

“I’ll tell you all about it when you come over, okay?” you assured him. “Is everyone else coming over too?”

“Oh hell no. I’m not bringing these guys,” he said out loud, just to sass the other boys in the room.

“WHAT WHYYY” you heard Bambam whining.

“We want to see the sister-in-law too,” Jackson said. “You alwAYS HOG HER TO YOURSEL-”

“She’s my girlfriend,” you heard Mark yelled back

“Mark-hyuuuuuung” Yugyeom continued.

“Y’all little shits keep going like this and I’ll block all of you on her phone.”

Jackson dramatically gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

Mark just stuck out his tongue.

You heard some shuffling from the other line and Jackson screaming “Don’t worry, sis! We’ll see you soon – Mark can’t keep you away from us long!!”

It got less noisy so you assumed Mark went out of the room to keep his sanity intact. He can only take the teasing (and Jackson) for so long. You heard him sigh.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

“It’s alright. Tell them I miss them, okay” you caved in, and laugh. “Ow,”

“Now I really want to know what happened. Not a casual day at work?” he mused.

“Ugh it was casual, alright. A little too casual. Get here quick,” you whined.

Mark just laughed. “Okay, okay, just give me 15 minutes or so. Are you sure you don’t need anything else besides me?” he teased.

Almost on cue, your stomach grumbled. You groaned, eating is the last thing you wanted to do. Imagining all the energy you need to use just to feed yourself. But you’re not going to starve yourself no matter how tired you are.

“Can you uh, bring food? But like nothing too heavy. Imagine feeding a sick person,” you replied.

“Are you sick?” he started to worry.

“Nooo, but just imagine. I want something light” you said.

“Okay…” he said sceptically. “See you later.”

“Don’t worry about it too much. See you.”

***

About 20 minutes later you heard your front door open and Mark calling your name. “Room,” you managed to shout back.

“Baby, what happened?” he quickly sat down next to you.

Before you could answer, he leaned in and kissed you. Mark’s kisses are always soft and you can always feel how needy it is when he misses you. And you haven’t seen him in weeks, which made the kiss feel even more breath-taking. One of his hands went up to hold your face and almost automatically, your hand raised to touch his hand… until your triceps ache because it was stretched and you squeaked in shock.

Mark opened his eyes and slowly pull back, looking at you squeezing your eyes shut.

You shook you head and just groaned in response and told him to get your underwear and his black hoodie from your closet.

“Oh... so this was where it went,” you heard him mutter, not sure if you were supposed to hear that.

You managed to smile cheekily when he turned to you. All girlfriends steal their boyfriends’ hoodies. It’s almost nature.

“Okay just sit down for a bit. I’m stiff,” you said. “But I need you to help put them on for me later.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Not off?” he pouted.

“If I wasn’t in this condition I wouldn’t have asked you to take clothes for me, babe”

He sat down next to you, chuckling. “Tell me,” he started.

“Okay, last week was hell since it was the end of the month and you know banks go crazy at the end of the month trying to close off and balance the accounts and checking everything.”

“So, this week a little bit more relaxed, not to mention that today was Friday and more than half of the office was already playing around after lunch. The boss said to take today easy and we weren’t about to make him change his mind. You remember Minho? The gym enthusiast? I had a project with him earlier this year. I think I told you about it,” you said and he nodded, concentrating on your story.

You continued. “He came over to my table and I was with my other colleagues and he was like “Hey, you guys want to try this 7-minute full body workout?” and since I had no better things to do, I just went on with it – everyone at the table too since Minho was basically coaxing everyone and saying it was ‘just 7 minutes’. And so there we were, doing jumping jacks and squats and planking! Can you believe planking?! Halfway I thought I was going to pass out but I wasn’t about to lose to not holding on for 7 minutes, you know?” he laughed, taking a hint at where this was going already.

“It was like 30 seconds for every exercise and a 10-second break but what the fuck, I was just about ready to throw up after 3 minutes. What really did it was the triceps dip, push-up, and lunges combo. Everyone was basically dry heaving at this point and cursing and Minho was just laughing his ass off. So here I am, regretting my life decisions sometimes.”

You closed your eyes, trying to forget the pain when it happened. Mark looked like he was holding his laugh big time. “It’s okay. You can laugh. My lazy ass deserves this,” you said, defeated. And he went off. This boy had a really contagious laugh too so you found yourself somewhat laughing along with him.

His hand went to hold yours after he was done, tears in his eyes from laughing too much. “I really thought you got sick or something, but I didn’t expect this. Where does it hurt?” he asked, lightly squeezing up your arms.

“Everywhere. It was a full body exercise, Mark. It’s basically as bad as the first time we had sex. I’m aching everywhere. Well, except down there but you get the idea.”

You thought you saw the look in his eyes slightly darkened but he laughed and gave you an empathetic smile. “That bad?”

You whimpered.

“There, there,” he said, patting your head. “Let’s put some clothes on you.”

You slowly sat up. Mark held out the hoodie over your head and helped pull your arms into the sleeves. You pulled the hoodie down to your thighs since it was oversize on you and fell back down on the bed.

Mark was nice enough to pull the towel off you and let it spread on the bed. He went back to putting on your underwear.

His hand touched your calf to lift it up and you moaned, not sure if it was reflex or because you felt a muscle pull at your thigh. Maybe both. Mark looked at you and you knew he was confused on how to react, but he went on to the other leg and did the same. It’s halfway up your legs now and you tried really hard not to make any weird sound.

Until his hand touched your inner thigh and even you were confused on how to react when you let out a breathy moan. It felt good but it also hurt.

“I didn’t know this was going to be hotter than taking them off, baby girl,” he said, voice sounding a bit strangled. He was kneeling in between your legs now. His brows strained and his eyes dark.

And then his hands were at your hips and he had no idea what he was doing anymore. He let out a breathy “Can I?” and you found yourself nodding.

His thumb was on your clit and you exhaled, as if you’ve been holding in your breath the entire time. He was slowly going in circular motions when you mewled. You could feel his finger was trembling, trying to hold back. He let himself palm you and you almost jerked.

“So wet for me, princess. Even when you’re in pain,” he smiled apologetically at you. “Sorry,” he whispered. You moaned his name, hoping he’d get that it’s okay.

You did miss him. What’s one more place to ache, anyway? You laughed at yourself. Sadist.

Mark slid one finger in to you, going at a slow pace. When he felt you loosening up, he inserted another finger and pumped in and out of you, going a bit faster.

You were a panting mess by then, cursing and moaning. You know he doesn’t want to hurt you, considering the condition you were in but going at this pace was torture so you bucked your hips, knowing your sorry ass is in pain.

“Even in this state, you have the energy to be needy,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, well, my energy’s running out and I’m spending it on this,” you growled, impatient.

He curled his fingers inside you and your breath hitched. He continued thrusting in and out of you, looking a bit of a mess too. He went faster and you felt his fingers hit that spot and your walls automatically clenched down on his fingers.

He groaned, knowing what that means. “Shit. Tell me, baby. How does it feel?” His hand went your stomach and slowly snaked it way up to your breast, kneading on your nipple.

“Good, s-so good” you whispered. Trying to hold it out a bit longer, you started breathing in and out, and focusing on something else, anything else. But with Mark slowly becoming undone right in front of you and the small wet patch on his sweatpants, it didn’t do much to help. Sweat was slowly appearing on his forehead, his hair was still styled nicely from the performance, and he’s biting his lower lip to get a grip of himself but it’s doing things to your imagination.

You tightened on his fingers again when he kept hitting that spot and a knot was forming in your stomach. “Close. Really close,” you managed to choke out along with some profanities and his name and you heard Mark mumbled “fuck” and sped his fingers.

When you can’t hold it in anymore and you’re talking but you don’t know what came out your mouth, you heard him say, “Be a good girl and cum for me. Show me how I made you feel.”

“A-h shit, shit… holy fuck” you screamed as you felt him thumb pressing on your clit again and felt the ache in your lower abdomen and thighs clenching and found yourself releasing on his fingers which were still pumping you. Your vision blurred and he kept going until you went down from your high, breathing returning to a normal pattern and you realised you’ve balled up your fist the entire time because it hurts to lift them but as you slowly loosen your grip, your hands were shaking.

Your eyes slowly coming to focus with what just happened. Mark licked his fingers and you whimpered, clearly seeing it.

He quickly pulled your underwear up your waist before he loses himself again. He slowly dragged away the towel beneath you and quickly ran off to put it in the laundry and also took the extra boxers he left to use whenever he’s sleeping over and pulled it over your underwear.

He came up to your face and kissed you, smiling.

“Okay, just to be clear, I didn’t come here planning to do that. I thought we were just going to cuddle and fall asleep a-and it’s just- you were just-“ he sputtered.

You laughed and pushed him up (wincing in the process) so you were both sitting. You leaned forward, lightly pecked his lips. “It’s okay, I got lost in it too. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, holding your hands in his and looking into your eyes.

“What are we going to do about you, though?” you chuckled, and pressed your palm on the persistent tent in his sweatpants.

“Huh? What –“ and his eyes widen when you did that and he struggled to breathe out. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll go away later –“

“But you didn’t –“

“It’s okay,” he pressed. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I’m going to take a shower now and then change before you make a fuss out of this. We’re going to eat and I’m going to cuddle you to sleep.”

It doesn’t make you feel any better but you stopped prodding him. He got up to the bathroom and cheekily winked at you before closing the door. You just shook your head and slowly got off your bed, trying to learn to walk again.

Again, you felt every part of you telling you to get back to bed but not moving would probably make it worse tomorrow morning. You tried stretching a bit and it’s already got you sweating again. You decided just to go see what Mark brought for dinner.

Bibimbap and black bean noodles in one plastic bag… hmm that’s probably his since you don’t eat that much and… fishball soup with noodles! Truly the way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach.

You didn’t realise you used this much muscle to pull a chair. When you sat down, you felt Mark kissed the top of your head and sat down next to you. “Is that enough?” he asked.

“Yeah I don’t plan on eating much. I was already so tired and then thanks to someone I’m even more tired. Now I can definitely say it hurts everywhere.” You pouted.

He happily kissed away your pout. Mmm… you took in his scent and sighed in content. Mark always smells comforting.

Later, both of you spent the night on the couch, huddled together with you leaning onto his body, fingers lazily playing together, and catching up.

As it reached midnight, you were definitely getting sleepy. You were already sleepy before but Mark was going on about the funny things that happened preparing for the comeback and you couldn’t just fall asleep on him. He doesn’t talk a lot so you’re not going to ruin it when he does.

When you noticed he yawned, you yawned too and hugged into him, closing your eyes. He lifted you and carried you to your room. He laid down next to you and you turned to hug him. He kissed your head again and draped his free hand over your shoulder, softly rubbing his thumb to get you to fall asleep.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#mark #mark tuan #got7 #got7 fanfic #mark fanfic

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