#I apparently love angst too much to not include it in at least 1 of my works | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kazumist · 5 months ago

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WHY DON'T WE FALL IN LOVE TONIGHT ?

✩ — in which you found yourself executing a ruse with the known duke of meropide, wriothesley. what could possibly go wrong? (many things, apparently.)

✩ — prompt: panache — you agree to a fake courtship with another. (for @xianyoon's "a night to remember" event (event two hehehe))

✩ — includes: wriothesley x f!reader. royalty!au. fluff, angst if you squint, hurt/comfort if you also squint, comedy squeezed in just a teensy bit. cw: alcohol consumption (reader ends up taking a shot or two) one crazy scene in the garden but it's nothing too explicit i swear they just get a little carried away OOPS. wc: 8001 yes you read that fucking right (i went insane). fake dating trope went a bit overboard my bad (heavily based by bridgerton season 1 minus the explicit scenes LMAO). one pride and prejudice and meme reference line sneaked in (if u get my reference then ilysm i need to kiss u). other fontaine characters make a cameo yipee!! full fic of this silly post i made back then but i changed things up. kinda

✩ — please reblog !! it wld help me tons :,)

love at first sight was a frivolous belief for a man like wriothesley.

romance, in general, was a frivolous belief for him in the first place. as much as his father pushes him into the marriage market for all of the women in the kingdom of fontaine, he would always find his way out of it. but he does admit—the nagging could get quite... overbearing sometimes. romance almost never crosses wriothesley’s mind. he shuns every vigorous mother that presents their daughter towards him in hopes that he’ll take an interest in them (which he never does; wriothesley believes that marriage is too big of a responsibility for him).

a ball is never uncommon in society at this age. and certainly it isn’t uncommon for his father to urge him to grace these balls with his presence on behalf of his former duke of a father. and tonight wasn’t so different from the other balls he previously attended. wriothesley holds back the urge to roll his eyes after he excuses himself (for the nth time, he thinks) from another mother who tried to offer her daughter up for his hand in marriage. it was exhausting, to say the least. wriothesley wants nothing more than to leave at the moment. however, to his dismay, the ball had just begun not too long ago.

it’s another long night for him.

sharing some conversations with queen furina’s royal advisor, neuvillette, wasn’t a bad way to pass the time. and it certainly was effective because people were far too nervous to approach him with the queen nearby. the friendship he shared with the royal advisor wasn’t new knowledge to society. almost everyone and their mothers had heard about the tale of the current duke meropide and the queen’s royal advisor being close friends during their early days of childhood and onwards. though wriothesley sometimes admits—he surely misses his youthful days.

it’s not like he's that old now. he’s currently thriving at the young age of twenty-five! not too young, not too old either. “and just how long are you going to stand by my side tonight, wriothesley?” neuvillette asks, his eyes focused on the crowd below him. there were pairs dancing gracefully in the middle of the venue as the quintet orchestra played by the side. wriothesley doesn’t glance at him as he answers. “just a bit longer, i suppose. i could still feel their eyes boring holes into me.” he mumbles the last part, leaning closer only for neuvillette to hear, as he refers to the mothers that attempted to make their advances on him earlier. neuvillette simply chuckles at his remark.

“still refusing marriage, i see?” he replies.

“i’m confident that you’re well aware of what my answer to that is going to be, neuvillette.”

wriothesley feels comfortable like this. but he’s aware that he couldn’t spend all of his time by his friend’s side. soon after, wriothesley decides to take his leave after making sure his coast is clear. he then exited nearby and found himself wandering into the garden. surely, the workers at the house of hearth had done a splendid job maintaining this garden. he reminds himself to commend duke arlecchino for this if he ever gets the chance.

the wind tonight was quite cold, yet it’s nothing wriothesley couldn’t handle. he stumbles upon what seemed to be the center of the garden, surprised to see a fountain there. the moonlight shines brightly in this area—but what actually made wriothesley curious was who was sitting by the fountain? he steadily approaches, careful not to make the wrong move and sits by the fountain as well. there was still some distance between the two of you—a lot of it. it would be indecent of him to burst into a woman’s personal space. his father did not raise him to be that sort of man.

“what brings you here tonight?” he suddenly finds himself asking. it was a poor attempt at small talk, he thinks (he could do much better than that, he swears). wriothesley doesn’t even dare steal a glance at you, as much as he wanted to. you hesitated before answering him, still sinking in the fact that you suddenly have company in this garden now. “avoiding society as usual, especially the members of society who cannot give up offering their hand of marriage towards me, i suppose,” he hears you sigh. huh, how ironic. did wriothesley just bump into someone who suffers from the same problem as him?

the answer was most definitely yes.

“oh, what a coincidence��i suffer from such a predicament as well.” he chuckles bitterly in reply—too bitter for his liking. he didn’t want to suddenly ruin the mood now; the conversation had barely even started. “is that so? i’m delighted to know that i’m not alone in this boat then.” the tone of your chuckle was different from the chuckle you got from wriothesley. a comfortable silence was then enveloped over the both of you, enjoying the scenery around. he takes this as his chance to steal a glance, and he quickly takes it back. yet he finds himself glancing again.

and again

and again.

he doesn’t quite understand it himself. however, there was something about you that had this alluring effect on him of some sort. he just couldn’t tear his eyes off of you for some reason. “enjoying the view much, duke?” you asked, meeting his gaze. wriothesley then turns away suddenly, embarrassed that he was caught red handed in the act of practically ogling at you. his father did not raise him to be like this at all. he did not spend his childhood and teenage years training how to be a proper gentleman for his debut in society just to be ogling at a lady he just met at a ball. he needs to snap out of it.

“my apologies, but how could i resist putting my attention on a stunning lady like you?” he tries to play it cool. (keyword: tries.) it was a strategy that he learned to adapt every since he made his debut into society. playing it cool always works for him—surely his old trick wouldn’t fail at him now of all times, right? but wriothesley soon snapped out of his thoughts, and he then asked another question. “wait, you know who i am?”

you were taken aback by his words. is he seriously asking you that? “who wouldn’t know you? you’re quite famous with the other ladies.” you asked him back. he simply replies with a short “fair point.” and silence takes over once again. but this time, it was a bit awkward. you decided to introduce yourself to him, stating your name and title. he nods in acknowledgement of your introduction. he has heard of you before, of course. your family has quite a reputation in society, making you get quite a bit of attention at formal parties as well.

wriothesley doesn’t dare steal a glance at you again, as he has seemed to learn his lesson from what happened earlier. you, on the other hand, took this as your chance to take your leave. “although your company has been quite interesting, duke meropide, i’m afraid that i must take my leave first. i seem to have forgotten that i excused myself from lord jackson earlier.” you got up from your seat, already walking away from the fountain—that is, until wriothesley speaks.

“lord jackson? you mean the lord jackson who’s known for his… awful history in relationships?”

“i don’t believe there’s any other lord jackson in this society, duke meropide.” you turn around to face him.

“what business do you have with him?” why am i even asking? he thinks.

“he’s simply another one of the men who my mother had decided to set me up with for marriage. i was told to accompany him for tonight but you see, his company isn’t really... the best.” you replied, choosing your word carefully. despite you not liking lord jackson at all, it would be informal for you to speak ill of him when he could be the man you’ll actually marry.

actually, scratch that. as if you’ll ever allow yourself to marry a man like him. lord jackson was a creep, to say the least. you were aware of the talk that goes around him. but your dear mother is still kept in the dark about these stories, and she decided to set you up with him without your prior knowledge. so by technicality, you really had no choice. “you can’t marry him.” the man in front of you suddenly says.

“i beg your pardon?” you asked, afraid that you misheard him the first time. “you... you can’t marry him.” he repeats and then he continues. “i mean, surely you have heard the news about him—his temper makes him vicious. your marriage with him wouldn’t prosper at all.” you held back the urge to scoff at him. “i appreciate your concern, my duke, but our society works in an unfair way at this age. i cannot just declare that i do not wish to marry, unlike you. that is a privilege that i cannot simply afford.” you shot back at him.

wriothesley suddenly feels like a light bulb in his head has switched on.

“we could pretend to form an attachment.” he then says. you were getting more baffled by the second this conversation held on longer. “whatever do you mean?” you weren’t stupid. but you refused to believe that what he’s hinting at is also the one you foolishly thought. “with you in my arm, people would think that i have finally found my duchess. as for you, your mother would raise her standards and find more suitable candidates for your hand in marriage. because although i could be wrong, but have you ever told your mother what traits you find in a man?” he replies, a small smile slowly tugging on his lips. he clearly enjoys this idea.

“i… i suppose not.” he got you there. “but this is an absurd idea.” you protested.

“i find it quite brilliant, if i do say so myself.”

“you do know the risks of what you’re proposing right now, am i correct?”

“i do. but you do not wish to marry me, and i do not wish to marry you, so whatever should you have to lose?” he’s insisting. he’s insisting like this plan would work perfectly fine for the both of your benefits (well, if you were to be completely honest, there is a chance for it to be successful. but you grew up to believe that you shouldn’t expect for things to go so smoothly in your life). “i…” a lost of words. that’s what you are. too many possibilities are running through your head at the moment.

however, the duke did have one hell of a good point.

“fine. you got yourself a deal.”

and that’s how you got roped into the situation you have now. with an arm interlocked with the duke meropide’s, all eyes were bound to set upon you both. wriothesley could see the amusement in neuvillette’s expression; the same goes for the hint of amusement in queen furina’s eyes as she spots them in the crowd. wriothesley slowly guides you towards the dance floor, just in time for another dance to begin. gracefully, you took his hand as you step onto the dance floor with him. a familiar song started to play, one that you remember memorizing as dance class was mandatory for being a debutante in society.

“are you bothered?” he then asks in a whisper as he twirls you around. “whatever for?” you ask him back. “the staring. i could feel all of them looking at us right now, honestly,” he chuckles lowly. “hm, i’m trying not to mind it that much. but i suppose you’re probably enjoying all of this attention now, aren’t you?” a simple tease on your part, and wriothesley smiled at that. “my, are we on casual terms now?”

“chemistry should be a major factor that we should have in this plan, yes? so we might as well start by being more casual with one another.”

“indeed. glad to know that you’re quick to pick up on things.” he says. “of course i am. what do you take me for, duke meropide?” you asked him, a slight pout forming on your lips. and wriothesley smiled at that again before replying. “nothing offensive, that i can assure you.”

“i’m delighted to know that the ever-so-famous duke of meropide doesn’t harbor any sour feelings towards me then.”

it was a bit suffocating, all of the staring. yet at the same time, you understood why they’re staring in the first place. wriothesley, the current duke of meropide, is suddenly on the dance floor with a young woman. and he seems to be quite interested in her as well. people would assume you’re the reason why the duke has rejected so many marriage offers up until now—because he already had you in the first place.

the other unwanted attention you’d get from that assumption alone was enough to make you distracted to the point where you almost stepped on wriothesley’s foot. “i—my apologies, duke.” you stammered. “it’s alright. just look at me,” he says. you scrunched your eyebrows at him in confusion. “pardon?”

“just look at me; don’t focus on anyone else. it will help ease your mind.”

with hesitance, you followed what he said and locked your eyes with his. the duke’s eyes were a fine shade of grey. a unique color, if you do say so yourself. and surely he was correct. shifting your focus and thoughts to him did ease you from all of the other eyes that are locked onto both of your figures that’s moving along with the music.

time felt like it had stopped, as it also felt like you were the only ones present in the room.

to wriothesley’s surprise, the night passed by faster when he was with you. because before he knew it, he was already accompanying you back to your carriage. a lot of things had happened in the span of just a few hours. but wriothesley does not regret a single second of it, now that he recalls everything again. he wonders why—was it because he encountered you in the garden tonight?

maybe. that’s where it all started anyway.

he quickly snapped out of his trail of thoughts as he heard you speak. “i suppose i’ll see you soon then?” you asked him. “mhm, i suppose so. safe travels, m’lady.” he bids you his farewell by gently grabbing ahold of your hand and pressing a soft kiss onto your knuckle, refusing to break his eye contact with you as the footman closed your carriage’s door.

“safe travels as well, my duke.”

— — — — — — — —

word spread fast about you and the duke of meropide. your mother was shocked at the news—yet happy that you finally became “independent on finding your match” as per her words. you had no specific agenda for the day, so, as you usually do whenever you are free, you decided to visit the modiste—where your good friend chiori resides.

the sound of the bell chiming as the door opened made chiori perk up to see who would possibly need help making a new dress. but when her eyes met yours, she just knew you weren’t here to ask for a new dress. “i heard about the commotion last night.” she says, setting down a cup of tea for you as she takes a sip from her own cup, waiting for your response. “commotion is a vulgar term for it, chiori. i prefer to call it a memorable event.”

“i suppose it’s memorable for you to enter with your arm wrapped around the duke meropide just like that. how did it even happen? i vividly recall you telling me that you had no intention of marriage.”

“it’s… a long story,” you sighed, taking a sip from your own cup of tea. “oh? are you implying that there’s more to this than meets the eye, then?”

“i guess you could say that.”

“well, then tell me all about it.”

“i… i can't. my apologies, chiori.” it's not like you didn't trust her. in fact, there are more secrets that are held within this fine modiste’s place than one could ever imagine. but it was a silent and automatic agreement between you and the duke that no one must know of your plan. (although you already hinted to chiori that there's more to it than meets the eye.) besides, chiori is a smart woman who has known you before she could even have her place built.

she doesn't need to be a genius to find out that there's something up. she'll pick up on it sooner or later.

“it's alright. there’s no need to feel pressure to tell me now, but do promise me one thing: you're not doing anything against the law, right?”

you couldn't help but burst out in laughter at her question. “chiori! do you take me as a criminal? of course, i’m not!” you replied, laughing in a fit of giggles in between your words. “thank goodness. well, how was i supposed to know? you almost never stop by so we rarely have the chance to catch up. every bit of news i hear from you is usually from the other ladies who sometimes talk about you.”

“don’t worry, my friend. i’ll stop by more often from now on, but seriously, are you still eavesdropping on your customers? i thought we were past that.”

“it isn't my fault some of them whisper way too loudly for my liking,” chiori scoffs.

as you two have a few more conversations, it is about time for you to take your leave, as the time has reached for the hour when chiori would usually have customers. “it was truly a pleasure to catch up with you, chiori.” you said as she escorted you to the door. “a pleasure indeed. do drop by more often, alright? it can get quite lonely here, you know.” a giggle leaves your lips at her response. “will do. i believe i might need a new dress soon for the upcoming firestone ball?” you say and you notice how chiori’s had some sort of sparkle at your mention of needing a new dress. she had always loved making dresses for you.

“is that so? i promise to suggest some designs that you might like once you return.”

— — — — — — — —

the fountain of lucine was a famous spot for a walk in the park type of day. every day, you’d see different individuals make their wish upon the fountain. whether that is a prosperous marriage, being blessed with a beloved child, or even gaining wealth, everyone wishes for all sorts of desires towards the fountain. but you never found yourself doing the same. it’s most probably because you've already been content with your life up until now. you never had any struggles when it came to growing up.

but again, that is up until now.

you took a step further towards the fountain, silently stating your wish and threw the coin into the fountain’s small pool of water. “penny for your wish?” you heard someone say beside you. quickly turning your head to the direction of the voice, you were surprised to see the duke there. “duke meropide! i—i didn’t expect that you were going to be here today.”

“i decided to go out for a stroll; the weather is quite nice today, is it not?”

“ah, yes, i suppose it is,” you replied, looking around. the weather was indeed nice today. perfect for a quick stroll around the area. “would you mind taking a stroll with me today? it would be a shame to waste this fine weather talking in the same spot.” he says, offering his arm for you to take. “i’d be delighted to.” your arm gets hooked on his.

“how are you faring lately? it has been quite a while since our last meeting,” wriothesley starts. he personally prefers his attempt at small talk today to his attempt at small talk the night he met you. it has been a few days since the ball held by the house of hearth. and within those few days, you haven’t spoken to the duke since. though, your house suddenly has suitors calling for you during your calling hour. all hopeful to gain your interest in them instead of the duke.

(however, you all shut them down politely. you found yourself repeating your apologies to the lords that have called upon you during those times.)

“i’ve been well. certainly, the stunt that we pulled during the ball held in the house of hearth did not go unnoticed. my social energy has been drained because of the suitors who called me.” a sigh leaves your lips. “oh? i apologize for that then. i hope that your social energy isn't at it’s lowest right now,” he chuckles. you gave him a playful glare at his remark. “are you making fun of my previous predicament, duke?”

“oh, heavens no. my apologies, did that offend you?” he says, holding back a smile at his words. he was definitely not apologetic. “you’re not that sorry for it, aren’t you?”

“perchance.”

“you cannot just say perchance!”

a laugh erupts from wriothesley at your response. it was the first time you heard him laugh like that. and in the public eye, you two would seem like a joyful couple spending some quality time walking around the fountain of lucine as a pastime. well, that was technically the goal. to show the public that you and the duke of meropide are madly in love with one another. what could possibly go wrong?

— — — — — — — —

by the time the firestone ball had taken place (which is nearly just a week after the ball from the house of hearth), you and the duke were on the dance floor once again.

“i believe we have yet to discuss our other terms and agreement for our plan, your grace.” you said, following his lead in the waltz. “ah, you’re right. well then, why don’t you start? ladies first.” he says. “i was hoping that you’d have some ideas on what terms we should have; after all, this was your idea, if i may remind you.”

you continue speaking as wriothesley continues to lead you through the dance. “i am starting to be convinced that this will be more than just a simple game of pretend just so we could fool the members of society, or my mother, or the women you have wanted to get away from every time you step foot in public. a life is at stake here, your grace, my life, and i just simply cannot have this go wrong. so if you are not in agreement with that, then you should tell me now.” the duke never broke his eye contact with you as you spoke.

“i shall agree… on one condition.”

“your grace, i believe that you do not understa—”

“you must call me wriothesley.”

there’s only one word to describe you at the moment: speechless. and wriothesley takes your silence as a chance to continue his words. “if we are truly to be courting, and if we are truly to prove that this is a match like no other, then you should call me by my name. after all, weren’t you the one who suggested that we should be more... casual with one another?”

he was right, and he had yet again another one hell of a good point. you mentally sighed, “very well then… wriothesley.” a laugh dares to escape your throat but this does not go unnoticed by the man who has his hand held in his at the moment. “is there something funny about my name?” he asks you, raising an eyebrow at your reaction. “no, no. it is a perfectly fine name. it is also quite unique, if i may add.” you replied, calming yourself down. laughing loudly while you’re in the middle of the dance floor would raise questions, after all.

“oh, perfectly fine? very well then… (name).” wriothesley’s voice seemed to have lowered itself an octave lower as he said your name with a slight rasp. your eyes looked away from his as you shifted your gaze to his collar instead. both of you went silent, yet you were still moving to the rhythm of the music.

wriothesley’s hand, that was supposedly at your waist, trailed upwards. just below the nape of your neck and also before your spine starts. your breath hitched at the contact of his cold finger tips there.

“i do hope that this plan will be successful.” you said, gaining your composure.

“have faith in us.”

— — — — — — — —

meetings with the duke of meropide became more frequent than you expected. whether that may be a coincidental meeting or a planned one—no one could really pinpoint it, much to their dismay.

it started off with a simple meal. then another walk. then an official invitation to accompany him to a ball or two. or three; in fact, he has invited you for a lot of them now. you haven’t thought much about the future as of late, always focusing on the present, where you’re definitely by wriothesley’s side. there was never a dull moment with the man. it was always entertaining to be with him. whenever another man (a man whose appeal is not to take interest in a sense) would approach you, wriothesley would pull some sort of stunt that’s connected to his “wild jealousy” of some sort. it’s a bit hard to hold back a laugh whenever this happens. there are times when he would talk to you about the other nobles present in the party and how he’s acquainted with them, and you’d admire the fact that he has many connections (something that a duke like him should have; he’s doing well in his duties, you’d note).

there are also times when you two will find yourselves alone, secluding yourselves from the crowd. these were, personally, your favorites. with the moonlight shining brightly upon you both once again, you’d always be reminded of the night you met. at these moments, this is when you and the duke would share… more personal things with one another. things that neither of you had expected to share with anyone else. like how he avoids marriage because of the huge responsibility that comes with it. or like how you doubt that others, especially men (minus the duke), would understand your struggles as a woman in this society.

wriothesley might have a lot of connections, but he was just the same as you. both of you kept your circle quite small (and by small, you both have only one person you truly trust to confide in). but even if you both wouldn’t admit it out loud, trust had also bloomed between the two of you.

(yet is trust the only thing that has actually bloomed?)

tonight, you found yourselves in yet another garden. “have you ever heard of why a flower wilts, wriothesley?” you decided to start this time. “hm? i suppose it’s because nothing good actually lasts long in life.”

“how… pessimistic of you to say.” you sweatdropped at his response. he chuckles yet again, you noticed that he always chuckles apologetically while looking away before he actually says his apologies. a habit of his, perhaps. “my apologies; i must repeat myself. the less a person sees of me, the happier their life is.”

“why so? i enjoy your company quite well.”

“oh? and are you sure those words aren’t forced because you’re stuck with me with this little ruse we have ongoing?” he asks back. these exchanges became frequent. one would ask a question, and the other would ask another in return. “i’m being quite honest, wriothesley. i really do enjoy your company quite well.”

“the feeling is likewise, (name).” there’s something satisfying about how your name rolls off of his tongue. he pronounces it the same as everyone else does yet how does it feel different when he says it? it’s baffling, that’s one thing for sure. “is it awful that i’m actually quite enjoying this?”

“you mean my wild jealousy?” he asks, playfully offended.

“fooling society.” you corrected. “there are some in the crowd who secretly know everything about everyone. yet we have them utterly convinced that we are mad for one another.”

“we are awfully clever then.” he says in amusement. “indeed we are.” you chuckled at his reply.

if there’s one thing you would always notice between the two of you, it would always be how you were glued to one another. like there’s some magnetic pull that automatically drags the other to their side.

this moment is no different because you could feel his knuckles grazing against yours ever so lightly. it starts with the hook of your pinkies, then slowly turns into you grabbing a hold of his other fingers. wriothesley could feel his heart beating fast at the contact. he glances at you, admiring your features underneath the moonlight once again. you glance at him as well. was he already this close to you when you started walking in this garden? because you swear your faces are inching even closer to each other. wriothesley’s other hand gently grabs your nape, guiding you as he gently pulls you in for a kiss.

his lips were soft against yours, something you didn’t expect from him. he kisses you like you were delicate (to which you were, delicate to him, at least), eyes closing themselves as he enjoys the sensation of your lips against his. you kiss him back in the same way, not really knowing what to do next—but you kiss him back. that’s all that matters. his lips leave yours as wriothesley latches his lips onto your neck, continuing the light kisses against it.

you let out a gasp at the contact as you lean your head back so you can give him more access. he intertwined his other hand with yours; it was quite scandalous. having a moment like this on someone else’s property. you extracted him from your neck, pulling him in for another kiss. this time it was a bit more rough—desperate, even.

well, that was until he pulled away from you abruptly. you looked at him in a daze yet you were confused. “we must return; we’ve been out long enough,” he says, letting go of your hand in the process as he fixes himself. he tries to catch his breath, processing what has just happened. did he really just kiss you? he supposes (or, in other terms, hopes) that it’s normal. ultimately, this should’ve been part of your agreement in the first place, right?

“i… you’re right. my mother could be looking for me any moment now.” what could possibly go wrong, you ask? well, apparently, many things could go wrong.

but if there’s one thing that got stitched into your mind tonight, it’s only one thing:

the duke of meropide is one good kisser.

however, what will become of your relationship now?

— — — — — — — —

you found yourself going to chiori again. the familiar sound of the bell chiming against the door notified chiori of someone entering her place. and once she saw you, she could just feel the distress radiating off of your body.

“what happened this time? i haven’t heard any good news about you two from last night’s party.” she says, pouring you a cup of tea. “good news? more like insane occurrences,” you sighed, watching the tea leave the teapot as it transfers onto your teacup. “ insane occurrences? what happened to ‘memorable event’?” she asked, confused with your choice of words.

you let out another sigh, finally revealing everything to chiori. luckily, today was her day off. with another ball just held last night, she would get at least a day or two of good rest before she opens up again. chiori takes in every detail of your story well, surprised that this is what you’ve been up to.

as soon as you were done talking, you decided to take a sip of your tea. “so you’re worried that you almost slept with the duke of meropide?” chiori states. and you choked on your drink once you heard her. “you didn’t have to word it like that! have some decency!” you exclaimed, embarrassment surging through you.

“i don’t get it, though. what are you so worried about? it’s almost as if… wait.” she pauses.

“it’s almost as if what, chiori?”

“do you love him?”

“huh? love who?”

“don’t play dumb with me, (name). do you or do you not love the duke of meropide?”

this time, it was your turn to pause. do you? well, certainly, he is nice company. and he treats you well despite neither of you having the wish to marry each other. he is also a good kisser (something that you don’t really feel like counting but it’s still a fact). recalling everything that has happened now, the only things that come into mind are the things you’ve noticed about wriothesley. how his eyes are the most remarkable shade of grey, his scar below his right eye. the feeling of the callouses on his hands as you held them on the dance floor.

it can’t be. there’s just no way. he’s a duke of all people—he’s out of your league in so many ways. he’s too far for you to reach. and besides, this is all just a game of pretend, is it not? surely that kiss would’ve meant nothing to him.

fuck.

“i do.” you replied to her in a whisper

“i’m glad that you’re not dense.” chiori says, flicking your forehead. you yelped in pain at the contact.

yes, you do love the duke of meropide.

and you stand by that.

meanwhile, on the other side of the coin, wriothesley had a crisis himself. “you’re quite lucky today, to ask for my presence while queen furina is occupied with duke arlecchino with her. so what assistance can i offer for you today, wriothesley?” neuvillette states, pulling his chair so he could take a seat before the man in front of him. wriothesley leans back on his seat, an elbow propped on top of the chair’s arm rest as his index finger is rested upon his lips.

wriothesley sighs. before spilling everything to neuvillette. his friend’s expression grew more amused as he continued on with the story, finding every detail unexpected for a man like his friend. “i see. so that’s how it is. well, let me ask you a simple question then, my friend.”

“shoot.”

“do you love her?”

wriothesley pauses. neuvillette’s questions echo repeatedly in his mind. do i love her? he then asks himself. he was not stupid. wriothesley did not need to become some sort of genius to find the answer to that question—because the answer is no. he doesn’t love you. yes, he has grown to trust you with things he would never even dare tell anyone else. but he’s scared. wriothesley is scared because he has never thought of commitment in this way before. romance was just a frivolous belief to him, after all. so surely, this would all just mean nothing.

he ponders about it for a few more moments. he’s too scarred—too damaged—to be loved by someone like you. he feels undeserving of it. he knows there’s another man out there who could be the man you want to be. someone who will make you happier than he does. someone who is willing to commit himself to you. someone who could love you with nothing holding him back.

“i don’t.” wriothesley firmly says.

no, wriothesley cannot be in love with you.

(neuvillette gives his friend a sigh as his friend takes his leave. he returns back to the room where queen furina is currently spending time with duke arlecchino. the duke had a habit of bringing the queen sweets from their travels abroad. the queen has excitement written all over her eyes as she makes eye contact with the pastries set in front of her.)

— — — — — — — —

it wasn’t hard to put two and two together to realize that wriothesley has been avoiding you.

it has been a few months since you decided to start your ruse. although he still accompanies you, once it’s quite crowded, he will deliberately avoid your presence like a plague, and you have no idea why. you first thought that may be he was just feeling unwell but it has occurred more frequent now and it just stings, really. it stings because you thought that you two had formed quite the bond over the past few months.

“wriothesley, is something wrong? you know you could always talk to me, right?” you asked him, finally cornering him as he had successfully avoided you for the past two hours ever since the party started. “it’s nothing of your concern,” was all he said before leaving you again. but that answer wasn’t enough—hell, it wasn’t even a proper answer for you. so you decided to follow him.

“where are you going?” you asked him. speeding your pace up to catch up to him. wriothesley doesn’t answer and just continues on walking. he ends up going into a secluded room, not even bothering to close the door. you followed him in and shut the door behind you as you faced him. he had his back facing you as you heard him take a deep breath. “wriothesley, what’s wrong? and don’t even dare say that it’s none of my concern because it is.”

wriothesley could feel himself going mad. he can’t do this tonight. what even caused him to behave this way?

ah, he remembers. it was that unbearable sight of you interacting with marquess lyney. he should’ve been happy that you finally seem interested in someone else because all you two have to do now is plan how you should end things. but that thought made wriothesley realize two things. one, he cannot bear the sight of you with another man (but why? it’s not like you’re actually his in the first place). and two, he doesn’t want things to end between the both of you. whether it's a ruse that feels too real for his own liking or whatnot, he doesn’t want to lose you in his life.

he loosens the buttons on his top so that he can breathe more properly. you got closer to him, but only if you knew that was a dangerous move on your part. you grabbed his arm in hopes of getting a view of wriothesley’s expression at the moment.

he then faces you, his eyes searching for something in yours but you just can’t find out what. it was silent; neither of you dared to speak a word. and wriothesley finds himself pulling you for a kiss. it was a bit rough how his lips crashed against yours. he then pulls away, his eyes widening at what he just did. “i… my most sincere apologies.”

and he leaves. just like that.

the familiar door to the modiste is presented at you as you knocked. it was late at night. the party you attended earlier with wriothesley was long over. but you knew your dear friend would still be up even at this late hour.

“(name)? what brings you here at this hour?” chiori asks, opening the door wider so you could enter.

“i need a goddamn drink.” you said.

— — — — — — — —

“so you’re telling me that he just… kissed you again, and then he left the party? just like that?” chiori repeats. you take another shot of the alcohol chiori provided for the both of you. “hey, calm down. this one is actually pretty strong, you idiot.” chiori warns you.

you lean back, slamming the shot glass against the table. “just like that, chiori. like what is wrong with him? is he perhaps sick in the head?”

“i honestly don’t know if i should be at least grateful that he apologized.” she says, taking a shot as well. you glare at her remark and she raises her hands in return. you sighed this time, “are men always this… complicated?”

“hm, i don’t think so. maybe it’s just the duke.”

“you’re not helping!”

“you never said you wanted help in the first place.”

— — — — — — — —

seven days.

seven days since you last spoke to wriothesley. seven days since you last heard of him. it has been seven days yet he hasn’t made any attempts to contact you since.

just what was up with him? he was fine before. did you do something wrong? did you accidentally say something that was offensive to him? everything has changed now. wriothesley is treating you like he treated you before he actually met you—cold.

your mother has decided to throw a ball this time—something about her not wanting to fall behind the other mothers. you complied, having to accept that society is nothing but competition against one another. and on the day of the ball, you found yourself lonely. if only chiori wasn’t busy with her other orders, then maybe this night would’ve been more entertaining.

wriothesley has yet to make his appearance (or perhaps he is already here yet he has decided to avoid you again). but you have decided on one thing tonight: you will talk things out with that stubborn man no matter what it takes. because you cannot just bear to stand idly by when wriothesley could be struggling alone. you once heard from your mother that love makes you do the craziest things and tonight was the night you realized that she was right. but isn’t it worth it if it’s all in the name of love?

the outdoor area of your home was also used for the ball, and decorations are displayed here and there to make the area look more eyecatching. to your family’s dismay, it has begun to rain. making all of the guests head inside to continue the festivities. but as you made your way to follow the crowd, you spotted someone too familiar—it was the man you’ve been looking for all evening, wriothesley.

looking around his surroundings, wriothesley spots you getting drenched in the rain. his eyes widen as he quickly makes his way towards you, removing his coat to drape it over you instead. “are you insane? you’re getting drenched!” he exclaims in worry. you scoff in return, pushing yourself away from his coat and allowing yourself to get wet by the rain.

“am i insane? i should be the one asking you that!” you said, glaring at him. “how… how could you? do you know how worried i have been because of you? you avoided me, then kissed me, then avoided me even more! i had no idea if you were okay because you didn’t even dare speak with me while i was here stuck waiting for you. why? because i didn’t want to pressure you into telling me what’s wrong!”

wriothesley is at a loss for words at your outburst. he just stares at you in return, guilt written all over him. he deserved your anger. but he didn’t mean for things to go this far, yet he also didn’t know how to handle things. you continued speaking, “wriothesley, i have no idea what’s clouding over your heart but i do know one thing: you musn’t keep it to yourself.”

“(name)...” he softly says—hesitantly, even. like he’s scared to even say your name in the first place. you take a step forward, both of your hands reaching out to hold his face. your touch was gentle on his skin, making sure you weren't making him uncomfortable. “tell me what’s wrong, wriothesley. i’ll listen.”

and tell you, he does. he voice shakes at first yet he begins to steady it as he unravels to you everything that has been bothering him up until now. his jealousy, his inner turmoil, and his insecurities. and you listen to him, understanding every word that escapes his lips as your hand never leaves his face, your fingers gently brushing over his scar below his right eye. and once he’s finished, you choose your next words carefully.

“there’s something that i realized in life that i believe you should know. just because something is not perfect does not make it any less worthy of love. you made yourself believe otherwise. you made yourself believe that you had to be without fault just so you could be loved but you’re wrong, wriothesley. should you need any proof of the matter, then look just here.” you weakly laugh at the last sentence, and wriothesley just stares at you. you couldn’t find out what’s going on in his head but you know that he’s listening.

your voice shakes as you continue. “i am tired of this sick game of pretending. i am tired of pretending—of acting as if i do not love you, because i do. i love you more than you could ever imagine. every scar, every flaw, every imperfection—i love all of you. you may think you’re too damaged or too scarred to allow yourself of happiness but you can choose differently, wriothesley. you can choose to love me as much as i love you. that should not be up to anyone else—that cannot be up to anyone else.”

“it can only be up to you.”

he was still silent as you slowly let go of his face but wriothesley was quick to catch them. he grabs ahold of your hands, and with his slight shaking, he takes a deep breath. he realizes something when you profess your love for him. he puts two things together: commitment and you. and the conclusion he draws from that is that he doesn’t mind commitment, as long as he’s committing himself to you. that’s how much of an impact you have on him. yes, he’s scared. and yes, this might not go like he hopes it will. but that doesn’t matter to him because he knows it will all be worth it for you. wriothesley is a coward when it comes to love and the like—that, he admits. but he isn’t allowing himself to be a coward for the rest of his life. why deprive himself of the serene type of happiness that he could only achieve when he has you by his side?

he kept his eyes on the hands he’s holding now as he began to speak. “i.. i do not wish to be alone. i know that now. but what i do not know is how to be the man you wish for me to be—the man you truly deserve. i do not know how to do any of this, but i do know another thing: i love you too. i love you. most ardently.” he then meets your eyes as he notices one thing in them. love.

“you stay. you stay and we’ll get through this. together. that’s where we’ll start. we have all the time in the world.”

“may i… kiss you?” he hesitates to ask. but you give him a nod of approval before you’re met with the familiar pleasure of his lips on yours. he relishes every second of the kiss, taking this as a chance to ground himself into reality—refusing to believe that this is some sick dream that his mind decided to play in his head. a hand slithers its way to the nape of his neck and wriothesley groans at the feeling as his hand grabs your waist tighter. wriothesley thanked his lucky stars for the night he met you because this wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for them.

love at first sight was a frivolous belief for a man like wriothesley.

but he knew otherwise the moment he laid his eyes upon you that night in the garden.

#( writings )#astronetwrk #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #x reader

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magics-neptunes-things · 10 months ago

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Hi guys ♥

We come to the end of this series that I really enjoyed writing. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did and I thank again all those who took the time to comment or like the different chapters.

It was a big work and I'm kind of sad that it ends to be honest, but I think it's better to finish it this way :)

Enjoy ♥

TW : Kidnapping, hurt, angst, fear.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6

______________________________________________________________

Your rehabilitation is going well, even if you find that the time is long to be completely honest. After four weeks you had the right to have your cast removed to make you put a splint, which has already helped you move a little better by yourself. After that you were able to start a rehabilitation, allowing you to quickly find the pitch. You miss playing football terribly and you don't know how you will do when you have to retire permanently. But you’d rather not think about it for now, focusing on the idea of playing again as soon as possible.

To pass the time during your rehabilitation, you started painting more than before. You are not tired enough to go to sleep after your workouts so you get tired using your concentration otherwise. You paint a bit of everything, without it being very precise. Landscapes, objects, memories of your childhood… You paint a bit of everything that goes through your head.

Leah likes to come and join you in your studio, apparently finding yourself with your long white shirt and painted hands particularly attractive. You’re not complaining, of course. You wouldn’t know why you feared Leah’s eyes on your painting until you really let her into your studio. Maybe because she knows a little about the subject and because what you paint is something you consider intimate. You never really let anyone see what you were painting. But again, Leah is different.

********

You come back from training, which you were able to participate in for the first time since your injury. Your leg is back as muscular as before and you managed to recover to play the last games of the season, including a very important England Cup final for the club.

You’re also at the same point with Chelsea to win the championship, which also means a lot to Arsenal. And for Leah, coming back on a double win would be something exceptional for her. And you hope that you and the team will be able to offer this to all of you. Your teammates are relieved to have you back and you are happy to be able to help them too. It's not yet a question of you going back to a game entirely from the beginning, but playing the joker of the second half suits you perfectly for the moment.

So you’re back from practice, lying on the couch in your living room watching Love Island. Alessia isn't with you tonight, stating that she intended to offer herself a good hot bath, certainly with a multitude of bath salt and candles.

You and Leah managed to sit on the couch, lying next to each other after dinner. Leah seems to be captivated by the screen but you are not really. Your gaze must weigh on her at least a minimum since she ends up turning her eyes on your face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" the blonde wonders.

"For nothing" you mumble by biting your lower lip.

Your fingers gently push back a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. This isn't really the truth, since you have an idea that has been in your head for some time and you don't know how to propose it to Leah. Your lie doesn’t work at all about Leah arching an eyebrow.

"Since when you try to lie to me?"

You laugh slowly, letting your fingers slide over her jaw. You may have seen her daily for months, but you doubt that you will ever tire of the perfection of her facial features. You hit her gently on the nose when she pretends to bite you though.

"If I offer you something and you find it too strange, you agree to act like you didn’t hear anything?"

Your question seems to surprise Leah, whose attention you now have. Her curious gaze scrutinizes you attentively.

"Is it something sexual?" she grins.

"No, you horny teenager boy" you laugh

"What is it then?"

You feel the curiosity in her voice too and you briefly wonder what she can think of before answering her. But when you open your mouth to offer her what you have in mind, you abruptly reverse.

"No nothing, forget it. It’s a bad idea"

You feel a little blushed and you hope that Leah will accept what you just said. But you also know perfectly well that it won’t.

"But tell me!" exclaims the blonde rising suddenly, almost throwing you on the ground.

"Leah!" you laugh-shout when you catch up to her size to stay on the couch.

"What is it? Tell me!"

To support her request, Leah sits on your stomach, thus preventing you from moving if ever the idea came to you to run away in the kitchen. And you have to admit that it came to mind for a few seconds.

"No" you answer smiling and shaking your head.

"You leave me no choice."

With an evil smile, Leah starts tickling your ribs, causing your uncontrollable laughter. You try to escape, but between her muscular strength and the loss of yours through laughter, you end up accepting the idea that you have no chance to escape.

"All right, all right! I’ll tell you."

Satisfied, Leah immediately stops her torture session and patiently waits for you to catch your breath to be able to answer her.

"I was wondering if you would accept that I make a portrait of you"

You see curiosity give way to surprise, then reflection on Leah’s face. You don’t do much portrait to be completely honest, you once made a replica of a wedding photo of your parents for their twentieth wedding anniversary and that’s it.

And a Raven portrait, but you’re not sure that matters.

"You want to paint me?" wonders Leah

"Only if you fully agree with that. You have the right to say it’s weird"

"I don’t think it’s weird"

Leah smiles at you and you immediately know that she means what she’s saying to you. She’s still sitting on your belly and you’re gently sliding your fingers down her legs, mechanically reshaping the scar from her surgery last year.

"Like a Titanic painting?"

"I imagined it with a little more clothes to be honest" you laugh softly. "But sincerely, how you feel most comfortable"

"That would be amazing" ended up answering Leah after a few seconds of reflection.

You smile at her and pull her against you, kissing her lips. When the pretty blonde lies on top of you and you turn your attention to the TV screen, you are in truth once again not focused at all on what is happening there. Your mind is already thinking about the canvas you are going to make and what you want to bring out on it.

********

When you can finally play an entire football game, Leah’s portrait is almost complete. What started out being a little intimidating quickly became a special moment between you. You feared at first that the way you represented her would not suit her. However, you have pushed this fear into a corner of your head since you will not allow Leah to see the canvas until it's finished. Despite her self-confidence, Leah seemed almost shy to you at first. It must be said that the look you put on her in those moments is different from the stolen looks you give her when you watch television, or when you admire her sleeping when you wake up before her.

But you have an excuse to admire her as much as you want now and you never get tired of it. The truth is, you’re almost disappointed that this is over. You loved spending hours looking for the perfect color mix for her eye or hair color. And having her with you in your painting studio also makes you happy.

Over time, Leah has become familiar with your lair and seems to enjoy spending time there too. When you tell her that you no longer need her and that she can go do something else, she often comes back to you with other things to do. To make her feel more comfortable than a simple chair, you bought an extra sofa despite Leah’s protests that it’s frankly not necessary.

The following Tuesday, after training, Leah goes to spend time with her family. Well, Amanda asked you to be here too, but you still want Leah to spend time alone with her family. So you go from time to time, but today Leah goes alone directly after training.

"I’m gonna miss you" says Leah, hugging you.

You may be exaggerating your goodbyes, but you don’t care. You enjoy your embrace, Leah’s arms around your waist while yours are around her neck. Just like you enjoy her kisses on your cheek, on your jaw and in your neck.

"I’m going to miss you too" you smile as you take her face in both hands to put a kiss on her lips.

"Oh God" whines Katie joining you at the exit "You will see you again in maximum four hours, don’t you think you’re a little too much?"

"Five if I beat them all" Leah smiled mischievously as she picked you up again, kissing you in the hollow of your neck.

You laugh when you hear Katie sigh desperately, then turn around when you hear the building door open again, probably in search of some moral support.

"Caitlin comes kiss your girlfriend to get her off my back, please" Leah says when she sees the Australian coming with Kyra and Steph.

"I’m not as needy as you are" Katie snorts

You see Caitlin rolling her eyes but approaching Katie who discreetly passes an arm around her waist to train her to her car. When you see Alessia finally arrive, you know that you will not be able to postpone your little separation very longer.

"Write to me when you arrive?" You ask Leah despite the fact that she does it every time.

"Sure" smiled Leah.

After a few kisses exchanged (Alessia must practically tear you from Leah’s arms), you find yourself in the Mercedes of the blonde in the direction of your building.

The ride is full of discussion, laughter and songs. With Less' promise of homemade pizzas, you know you’re going to have a great night. Lia is supposed to join you a little later to spend the evening with you, just like Manu.

"Shit, I left my phone in your car. Sorry, can I have your keys please?" you sigh when you come out of the garage.

If Leah had been with you you wouldn’t have cared, but this time it’s different. You take back the keys of Alessia’s car in the hands with an excuse smile and you go back quickly. After retrieving your phone, you return to the elevators and press the button on your floor by sending a message to Leah informing her that you have arrived home.

You take the time to put your bag in your apartment and grab a bottle of water in your fridge. You are filling the bowl with Raven’s croquettes when you hear the characteristic sound of something crashing into Alessia’s apartment, making you roll your eyes. This is clearly not the first time and probably the last.

"I don’t know if we’ll ever meet someone as clumsy as Auntie Less" you tell Raven.

The latter throws a reproach glance over her meal, without taking care to stop eating.

"I never said it took away her qualities" you answer by raising both hands in the air.

After two or three caresses, you get up to join Alessia in her apartment and probably help her to clean what has fallen. You just hope it’s not the jar of flour or tomato sauce she uses to make her pizzas.

"You alright Less?" you ask when entering your friend’s apartment.

But you freeze suddenly. It’s not Alessia who is in front of you, where she should be. It's not Alessia who is in the middle of the glass bricks of a mozzarella jar that

And it’s not Alessia looking at you with a dark smile, arms crossed over her chest.

It's Helena.

Your brain makes a short circuit for a few seconds, during which you watch her without moving. You don’t know what she’s doing here, how she found you and how she got into Alessia’s apartment. And what scares you even more is knowing exactly where Alessia is. That’s finally the first thing you can say. You know what she’s capable of, and that terrorizes you.

"Where’s Alessia?" you ask her, with your chaotic breathing

"After all these years without seeing me that’s all you have to say to me?" laughs coldly Helena.

You suppress a chill. Her bad and cold laugh reminds you of very bad memories, but you try not to let yourself be dragged there for the moment. You focus on the present and therefore on the health of one of the people who matters most to you right now.

"Where is Alessia?" you repeat, in a slightly louder voice.

"Don’t worry about her, she’s fine"

Her tone and voice are filled with disdain. When she starts to move, moving around the apartment looking around her, you feel like electric currents running through your body. Nothing to do with what Leah gives you, though.

Leah.

Finally, it’s a good thing the blonde is with her family right now. You don’t know what Helena wants from you, but it’s out of the question that your girlfriend crosses paths with your ex’s. The idea that Alessia had to do it makes you nauseous.

"So this is where you live now?"

You don’t answer anything, just watching her like milk on the fire. You know very well that when she seems calm, this is where she's the most dangerous. When she realizes that you will not answer her, Helena turns to you with an amused look.

"It’s true that you were much less talkative at the end of our relationship. I forgot"

"What do you want, Helena?" you ask coldly.

"Watch your tone, pretty girl" tsked Helena looking at you.

Unlike the last time you saw her, you supported her gaze when she stuck it in yours. It seemed to surprise her. But time passed and you grew and evolved. You changed, just like her. Her face is thinner and slender, purple circles give her two eyes steel color an impression of disturbing grandeur. She's still pretty tho, but has definitly nothing attractive to you.

"What do you want?" you say again.

Helena comes to position herself in front of you and even if your mind begs you to run away, you don't move. Not until I know what’s going on and especially what she did to Alessia.

"You? You didn’t come back to see if I lived in the same place for nothing, did you?"

You feel your stomach fall from several floors. You don't understand how she saw you, you were perfectly hidden that morning. She couldn’t see you from her house, let alone from the window where you saw her. Your face must be talking since Helena is laughing.

"Next time you come spying on me, do it wisely. The neighbor saw you hiding behind his car. He almost called the cops."

Helena laughs again and gets closer to you. You’re only a few inches apart now.

"Did you miss me?" she asks you with a mischievous smile.

"Not for a fucking second" you answer coldly.

Her smile fades as quickly as you slapped her and you see her look change. Seeing her so surprised is so surprising to you that you let your guard down. It doesn’t take more than that for Helena to jump at the chance, grabbing Alessia’s rolling pin to crush her with all her might on your skull, knocking you out instantly.

********

Your skull hurts when you try to open your eyes. You realize you’re lying on a cold floor and it’s dark. Your eyes need a few seconds to get used to the ambient darkness. Your hands are immobilized in your back, preventing you from helping you get up in the small room you are in. You quickly realize that it must be a small cellar somewhere. In front of you, Helena looks at you attentively, your phone in her hand.

"Drop it" you mumble as you roll on your back before sitting up.

"She’s pretty stubborn" Helena replies, ignoring you completely.

She turns your phone screen in your direction and you can see Leah’s ID. She’s trying to call you. If your gaze lingers for a few seconds on the photo you chose for her contact, you also manage to see the time it is. And it’s been at least five hours since you left her from the training ground. Lia and Manu are supposed to have arrived at your home as well and you sincerely hope that they were able to help Alessia.

When your screen turns black again, Helena gently rests it on the ground and puts her attention back on you.

"You continue to be a constant problem for me, it’s painful."

You don’t answer at that either. Not out of fear as was previously the case, but because you learned that ignorance is the best contempt. You don’t want to give Helena any more hold on you.

"Looks like you’ve made some friends. How all those people can be interested in someone like you?" laughs Helena, and this time you can’t support her gaze.

That’s kind of the question you constantly ask yourself in the background and probably where most of your insecurities come from. How can people care about you? Why did Ingrid choose to put herself in danger and get you out of that cursed house? Why did Laia and Leila automatically take you under their wing in Manchester? Why does Alessia also consider you a sister? Why do Manu, Lia, Katie, Kyra, Caitlin consider you a friend today?

By what miracle does Leah seem to be in love with you, too?

"You’re nothing and mean nothing. It was time I came to remind you, I think."

You answer nothing, your eyes stubbornly fixed on the ground at your feet, jay tightens. Your silence and lack of reaction seem to begin to annoy Helena.

"Look at me when I talk to you" spits Helena.

You hate to obey so quickly, but you automatically raise your gaze on her. But it allows you to realize that the mask of coldness that she used to keep is now cracked. She realizes that she no longer has the control as before and that gives you a little courage.

"You are mine. You belong to me."

The words she says are somewhat similar to those Leah can utter in your most intimate moments, but the intent behind it is completely different. Where there is only evil in Helena, behind those of Leah there is only love, devotion and admiration. Even if you don’t understand how and why you’re lucky enough to have a girl like Leah in your life, you realize right now that what Helena is telling you is wrong.

You have people who love and appreciate you. People who believe in you.

"And you know you won’t love anyone else as you love me"

Helena tries a poker game, but it only triggers a scornful laugh from you.

"I don’t even have enough interest in you to hate you anymore" you answer coldly.

The sound of the slap she gives you echoes in the little room. You should have expected it. The skin of your cheek burns after its blow and you know that she put all her strength into it.

"No one will be interested in you for ever as I will and you know it. Look! Even your precious girlfriend stopped trying to call you"

Helena grabs your phone and throws it in your direction. It comes straight to your head before it ricochets off your head and falls to the ground. You see the number of missed calls from Leah, but you find that it’s indeed been long minutes since she tried to contact you. You also received other calls from people you can’t see and the usual whatsapp notifications and different social networks you’re on. The only difference from usual is Lia’s missed calls.

"You didn’t listen to anything I told you. You keep strutting around on the football fields and chasing your stupid ball. You are ridiculous."

A new slap sounds in the room and you close your eyes under the impact. You pretty sure you will have bruises. You’re trying to get back on your feet, hoping that your muscles that are more developed than before will allow you to do better than all these years ago. Where you spent hours at the gym, Helena seems to have spent them lying on her bed using illegal substances.

But your attempt is quickly spotted by Helena, who doesn't hesitate to return you to the ground with a well placed kick. You crash violently against the ground, the pain leaving you groggy for a few seconds.

A loud sound makes you suddenly open your eyes and you fear for your life for a few seconds, but you finally understand that it's actually the door of the cellar that we tried to force. A split second later, it opens on the fly, letting in several armed people. Your first reaction, no doubt stupid, is to believe that they are Helena’s accomplices. But when they throw themselves at her, you realize that if they’re there, it’s to help you.

THey help you get up and free you from the bonds that held your hands before getting you out of the cellar. Honestly, you don’t understand what’s going on. When you get out of the building, you realize you’re not far from your building.

The night seems to have fallen for a long time and the headlights of the police cars illuminate the street at regular intervals. They take you to an ambulance and you let it happen, like a robot. However, you quickly come back to reality by hearing a voice you know well pronounce your name.

Leah.

You barely have time to turn around as you find yourself caught in her arms, her hair obstructing your field of vision and her perfume enveloping all your senses. When you close your eyes, you feel tears coming out of your eyes and soon your whole body is shaken with tears.

Whispering comforting words in your ear, Leah leads you to the ambulance without releasing you for a single second. And that’s exactly what you need, the way you hold onto her shirt could attest to that.

"Alessia" you manage to pronounce after a few minutes.

You’re sitting in the back of the ambulance, Leah at your side while the paramedics seem determined to examine you from head to toe despite your confirmation that you’re okay.

"She’s fine" Leah says "She’s shocked, but she’s fine. Lia and Manu finds her when they come to her apartment, she was in her bedroom. She's not hurt."

You nod, feeling your throat knotted again. Knowing what she went through this because of you gnaws at you from within.

"It’s my fault Lee. She came back because I was seen in her neighborhood in Oslo. You were right. I should never have gone."

"It’s not your fault" Leah replies, wiping one of your tears rolling down your cheeks

But you cannot tolerate that answer. You gently shake your head and shift a little to get away from her. You don’t deserve someone to comfort you after all the evil you brought tonight. Especially not someone like Leah. Someone who deserves better. It’s time you stopped being selfish.

"Y/N..."

Leah try to take you back against her, but you are interrupted by one of the nurses who comes back to you with different papers in his hands. Apparently you are fine, but they still want to keep you in the hospital under observation for the night. You will probably be visited by police officers to discuss what has just happened.

You nod, despite the fact that you are getting tired of hospitals.

"Are you coming with us?" the nurse asks Leah

"Yes" she answers automatically

"No" you answer at the same time

The look Leah gives you is so shocked that you can’t help but feel guilty. Like at the beginning of your relationship, you still have no desire to hurt or harm her.

"Alessia’s gonna need you" you’re vaguely mumbling as an explanation

"She has Lia and Manu with her and we called her parents"

Realizing the number of people involved in this story, you curl up and squeeze your palms against your eyes. When you feel Leah’s hand on your shoulder, you have once again the reflex to try to detach yourself from it. But Leah doesn't let you.

"Everybody’s gonna hate me" you mumble, before you start thinking out loud. "I’m gonna have to move from here, change places and stop football. The best thing is that I go back to Norway and I…"

"Y/N, shut up for mercy"

You oblige and freeze instantly when you hear Leah’s voice. With the help of her hands, she gently lifts you up and removes your hands in the same way from your eyes.

"I know what you’re doing. There’s no way you’re running away. Nobody’s going to hate you. You’re the victim in the story"

But you shake your head violently at this statement. You feel the ambulance start, the engine purring gently.

"Bullshit. If there’s a victim here, it’s Alessia. And you, because you should never have had to go through this. And Lia and Manu, who certainly freaked out too. And Alessia's family, god can you imagine their fear? It’s my fault that all this happened."

"No. It’s Helena’s fault."

You hate to hear Leah say that name and she knows it perfectly. If the nickname she had chosen was a little to dismiss the situation, he was nonetheless innocent. It was mostly to stop hearing that name that makes you nauseous.

"Everybody’s gonna know. Everybody’s gonna know and hate me" you say in a low voice.

"Nobody’s gonna hate you god Y/N" sighs Leah pushing you to sit next to you on the bed. "The only thing that’s gonna happen is that people who know about you will be worried about you because you’re important to their lives. Because they care about you. Because they love you."

You remain silent, carefully avoiding Leah’s gaze. You cannot imagine that she could be right to be completely honest, something terrible could have happened to Alessia for example. And if Leah had been with you, you wouldn’t even imagine what might have happened. The very idea terrifies you.

"I can’t let her get close to you" you end up answering.

"She can’t do it anymore. After what happened tonight, even if you decide for stupid reasons not to press charges, Alessia will."

Leah’s tone is a little abrupt and you can’t decently blame her for being a little bit angry. Alessia is one of your best friends, but you know that Leah and her are also very close. So you remain silent, letting yourself move as the road moves. You feel Leah’s gaze on you, but yours is stubbornly fixed on your hands.

"Hey"

Leah’s voice sounds again after a few minutes and surprises you in your thoughts. Forgetting your resolve until now, you mechanically turn your gaze on her.

"Believe it or not, you matter to a lot of people here"

You sigh softly and look away again, putting your eyes back on the landscape that passes by the small rear window of the ambulance.

"I don’t want to cause trouble for anyone. Especially not for people I love"

"There won’t be any more problems. She won’t make it this time."

Leah seems so confident and determined that you finally believe it a little. But Helena always seemed so untouchable that you still have a little trouble realizing that it’s possible. Except for Ingrid, no one ever suspected what she was doing to you. Leah knows now and you’ll probably have a lot of questions to ask her about how they found you.

"Hey" whispers Leah again.

You again silently raise your gaze on her and you note with surprise that it has softened a little since earlier.

"I do. I love you, I care for you and you mean the world to me"

You’re back in tears. Leah puts an arm around you and you let yourself go against her this time, unable to resist any longer the comfort that you know she is able to provide you.

"And I’ll tell you until you finally believe it, every day if you have to. Until you get sick of me."

"Never" you mumble, not really knowing if she heard you.

Plot twist: She heard you.

When you arrive at the hospital, you stubbornly refuse additional tests, repeating again and again that you are fine. You don’t even have a concussion as a result of the shock you received, which made you lose consciousness. You have a good bump, though, and some bruises. But you’re doing pretty well.

The most difficult moment is undoubtedly the interrogation of the police to whom you had to tell everything from A to Z. Despite your supplications, Leah was not allowed to stay with you and this obviously made things much more complicated to live or to relive.

The second moment was the call to your parents, informed by the justice of what had happened to you. To them too, you had to tell them some things but you silenced the worst things undoubtedly. They’ll probably resent you for a while for hiding such things from them, but not to the point of not wanting to talk to you. You had to stop your mother from jumping on the first plane to meet you.

Fortunately, the judicial inquiry and everything around it will be kept silent at your request and the general public will not learn what happened to you in the past and in recent days. The official story is that you and Alessia stumbled upon a group of particularly aggressive burglars. That’s quite plausible.

To get you home, Leah had to go home to pick up a car since she followed you here with the ambulance. After making sure you were okay, she finally left the hospital and you took the opportunity to call Ingrid, informed by your parents. You should also ask them not to say anything. For Ingrid, you know that you have no risk of this happening.

You just hung up with her when someone gently knocks on the door of your room and you look up at the door when you allow the person to enter. Your heart tightens a little when seeing that it's Alessia. She looks at you cautiously and on your side you don't dare to sketch the slightest movement, persuaded that she's terribly angry with you. And if it’s not her, it’ll probably be her family.

"Can I come in?" she asks you, almost timidly.

You silently nod for any answer. You watch her gently close the door behind her, looking in her behavior for the slightest sign of a potential dispute or reproach. Your eyes glide over herface, hands and body in search of wounds, but you find nothing.

If Leah saw you, she’d probably call you a fool.

"How are you feeling?"

Her question makes you blink and you feel a little stupid for not having asked it first. So you bite your lip briefly before returning it to her, without having replied.

"What about you?"

"I'm okay. I only have one bump."

You cross her eyes and you can easily detect the attention with which she looks at you.

"I'm -"

"Leah told me you expect me to yell at you or resent you. But it’s not what I think Y/N. It’s not your fault."

You sigh softly and shake your head negatively. You want people to stop telling you that, because you know that’s the case. You never should have gone back to her house that night, she never would have come back.

"Listen" continues Alessia as she sits on your bed "I know what you think but let me tell you what I think. It wasn’t very smart of you to go back to her house in Oslo, I agree with you, but at least now we know where she is and what she’s doing. She can’t hurt anyone anymore. She can never come back for you or seek to harm you in any way. You can feel safe now, because you are."

It’s hard to remain insensitive to such a speech, but you can’t find the words to answer Alessia. The blonde doesn't seem to hold it against you once again, since she addresses you a new smile.

"And for what it’s worth, you’re still my sis. And I love you."

Despite yourself, you can’t hold a little laugh and you reach out to her hoping to receive a hug. Alessia isn't begging to offer you one, almost crushing you in her arms.

"I’m so glad you’re okay" you whisper, briefly tightening your arms around her. "And thank you."

"What for?"

"Being you. To forgive me, to be there again and again."

"Again and again" she repeats before letting you go, smiling. "Now put on your shoes and jacket, Leah is waiting for us downstairs. Let's go to her before she accuse me to molesting you again."

********

There are finally only a few people at Arsenal who are aware of what really happened and it suits you very well. In addition to Leah, Alessia, Lia and Manu, you suffered the suspicious look of Katie who looked at you at length during your story. She didn’t ask any specific questions, but just told you that if you needed any help from the Irish mafia, she had contacts. You know that this is certainly not true (well, you hope) but you appreciate the message behind this statement.

You violently refused to rest for the next games, just like Alessia. You also asked Jonas to treat you as he would normally, according to your abilities of the moment and what you do during training. That puts you in the starting players for the final game for the England Cup, West Ham. And this time, you are both on the pitch against Alina and Jordan, who are also both lined up from the start of the game.

The players of the opposing team are not yet present in the corridor when you arrive and you imagine that it's for this reason that Leah lets herself grab your fingers with hers. This draws your questioning gaze to her and she simply smiles at you. You feel that she is trying not to choke you with her worry about what happened with Helena, but you appreciate her constant presence at your side. Since you are only between you and the others are discussing everything and nothing, you take the opportunity to let yourself go a little more against her.

"Stressed?" You ask Leah when she drops your fingers to put her arm around your waist.

"A little more than usual" confesses the blonde in a low voice.

"You will be exceptional, as always"

Leah pinches your ribs smiling maliciously, your little cry of surprise making turn almost all of your teammates. Some people laugh when they see you, and you chase Leah’s hand away by hitting her. Seeing that she is about to continue your hand game, Lia pretends to intervene between you smiling.

"That’s enough, behave yourself"

That’s when the West Ham players begin to arrive at your side and you let Leah spin you aroung by holding you by the shoulders to face the exit. That doesn’t stop you from taking one last amused look at her before focusing on the game. Well it was until Leah kiss your jaw.

Your face is impassive when you shake hands with Jordan and then with Alina. You feel a lot better in your shoes than the last time it happened and it really makes you happy.

You find yourself in front of the field, attacking, alongside Alessia. Leah is in the back with Katie and with Caitlin, Lia in midfield, Beth and Viv, it has become a bit of your basic structure. It works very well like that and Jonas probably didn't want to take risks and try last minute strategies. Maybe he keeps a card in his sleeve for the second half if something weird happens.

But it doesn’t happen. Alessia manages to score a goal in the twelfth minute and you put another one in the twenty-third. Katie scores the third on a free kick just before half-time and you have to hold back from jumping into the locker room. Jonas urges you to stay focused for the second half, reminding you that if you managed to score three in forty-five minutes, West Ham is quite capable of doing so as well. So it’s just as focused that you go back into the field, ready to fight.

You don’t know what instructions the coach gave to the West Ham players, but there is no doubt that he asked them to press you as high as possible on the court. During corners or free kicks it's suddenly Alina who is supposed to take you, which isn't necessarily to your liking. You suddenly push her hands back when she puts them on you several times, ending up attracting the attention of the referee who comes to ask you to calm down a little.

West Ham actually manages to score a goal soon after, but you score a second a few minutes later. And Kyra, back for Beth at halftime, seals your easy win just before the end of the game.

When you lift the cup, you can’t help but look at the joy on Leah’s face and then on your teammates. Your friends. No matter how much you think about it, you don’t remember being as happy in your life as you are at that moment.

You smile at Leah when she crosses your eyes, mimicking a silent "I love you" with your lips, to which she responds by sending you a kiss.

********

"Leah, where are we going?" you ask, laughing softly, the blonde making you walk with both hands on your eyes.

It almost makes you stumble several times, but Leah watches over you carefully and catches up with you every time.

"We’re almost there" the blonde promises.

And indeed, a few seconds later she releases your eyes, taking the time to put in front of you before resuming the speech.

"Don’t open your eyes yet" Leah said, taking your face in her hands "First of all, I want you to know that there is no obligation to anything. That it won’t change anything between us no matter what you say. And that I love you"

"You’re scaring me, Lee." You mumble, frown.

"You don’t need it" Leah smiles.

She puts a tender kiss on your lips before releasing you and stepping back a few steps.

"You can open your eyes now"

You comply and blink several times to recover to the ambient light. Leah dragged you here after training, you’re at St-Albans not far from the training center, but not far from where her parents live too. You know that Caitlin and Katie, Kyra and Lia lived not far from here too. The building in front of you is typically English. It's a semi-detached house whose building is protected by a barrier and various security. Some work has certainly been done recently because everything seems particularly clear.

"What are we doing here?" you ask while frowning.

Leah is scratching her throat, apparently a little stressed. The way she swings from her toes to her heels tells you how nervous she is.

"Move in with me. We practically live together already and I want to wake up with you every day. I want to fall asleep with you and be able to moan because Raven is clawing on my couch while that damn cat has a brand new cat tree. I want to be able to take care of you and protect you every day. I know it’s a big step, but I love you and I want to make my life with you. Say yes, please?"

"Of course, yes" you answer with a smile.

Truth is, she already had you in the first sentence, but hearing that pretty statement doesn’t hurt. A big smile appears on Leah’s face as she hurries to put her hands around your waist to lift you off the floor and offer you a hug. You can’t help but laugh and put your arms around her neck.

After a few kisses, Leah shows you around the house, pointing out that you have the right to refuse the place if it doesn't suit you. But it seems to be perfect. An underground garage, the ground floor is reserved for the kitchen, the open dining room and the living room which gives access to the large garden behind the house. There is also a bathroom. Upstairs, there is what Leah proposes to transform into your ensuite bedroom, a guest room, another bathroom and a room that she proposes to transform into your studio provided that you leave her a small corner to install her piano and desk.

"What do you think?" Leah anxiously asks as you walk down to the living room.

"I love it" you answer honestly with a big smile on your face.

Leah smiles and seems to relax when she hears your answer. She puts her hands on your hips when you snuggle up against her and put your lips on her cheek and neck.

"I’m surprised you chose a semi-detached house" you admit however between two kisses.

"Oh, the neighbor looks nice, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble getting along" smiled Leah, sliding her finger under your chin to put a kiss on your lips. "Come, I’ll introduce you"

She grabs your hand and brings you out of the house to go into the house attached to yours. Both have been redone recently and you appreciate the light color of the front and the orange cobblestones on the outside, giving a small impression of southern Europe despite being in St-Albans.

Leah knocks at the door and you stand slightly behind her, still clinging to her hand. But your curiosity gives way to surprise when the door opens to an Alessia Russo and her famous smile.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, confused. "Are you dating the neighbor?"

"No" laughs Alessia while Leah next to you laughs too. "I’m the neighbor"

It takes you a few seconds to figure out what that means. You look in turn at Leah, who has meanwhile entered the house to greet Alessia’s brother whom you had not yet noticed, and Alessia who continues to smile.

"Are you moving here?"

"I think. This house is buzzing and apparently the neighbors won’t be too annoying"

You just smile while Luca confirms by mentioning all the positive things he found in the house. You quickly understand that Alessia called on him to get a second look and make sure everything was in order, but you trust Leah completely in that regard. Instead of listening, you jump into Alessia’s arms and finally realize what it means. You would have been sad not to have her next to you to be completely honest, but this is even better than what you imagined.

"You didn’t expect to get rid of me like that?" whispers Alessia, smiling as you hugged.

You roll your eyes and just tighten her against you with your arms around her neck, before Leah joins your embrace, squeezing you both against her.

"You whisper sweet words to my girlfriend besides molesting her now, Russo?"

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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notgrungybitchin · 4 days ago

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Thank you @javelinbk for tagging me to answer fic writing questions! 💕

How many works do you have on ao3?

What’s your total word count?

34,634

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. I Don’t Care Too Much

2. I Need my Love to be Here

3. Was I So Unwise

4. The Great and Powerful

5. A Cup of Kindness

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

Yes I always try to! If I ever don’t it’s usually because they were made on an older fic and I didn’t see them. Comments are my favorite thing and it’s the least I can do!

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I’m No Good at Aiming. It was from my previous fandom. I used to be much more happy to write angst. But I don’t do angsty endings in Mclennon. They suffered enough irl.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Definitely I Need my Love to be Here since it’s a fix-it fic. None of my Bugs fics have sad endings, but that one is the most “happily ever after” of them all.

Do you write crossovers?

No and I haven’t really been inspired to. But I won’t rule it out.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No and I am somewhat upset about it! Apparently I need to write Paul as more of a cock slut…

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I didn’t until I got into Mclennon. Now I’m writing smut galore. All my fics have been fluff and smut or porn with feelings. But I have some pwp ideas too!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, thankfully.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. That would be cool though.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I would be open to it.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Luckily no. I only have three and I’m determined to finish them all!

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue flows really easily for me.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions and the interior thoughts of characters can feel like pulling teeth for me.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I wouldn’t do a whole conversation, but a few simple lines here and there is fine. I included some basic French in my Paris fic. But I wouldn’t try for much beyond a few phrases.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I wrote Holmes/Watson fic that I never published.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

All within Beatles, but I’m occasionally drawn to Jane/Cyn. John/Brian too.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

It changes day to day, but I’m quite fond of I Don’t Care Too Much.

I’m not sure who’s been tagged, but I’ll tag @fkajohnlennon @adriennefrombrooklyn @eveepe @crumblingcookies @goatsandgangsters and @meyerlansky

#tag game #writing

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prettyboykatsuki · 2 years ago

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notes from op ; not an exhaustive list but all major fics are included. if you want to see more thoughts and one-off shitposts about bakugou specifically, you can check my #katsuki <3 tag

all characters written aged over the 18, usually early twenties.

—✮ LONG FIC [4k+]

✮ [ FUCK YOUR INHIBITION ] | [NSFW, 18+ ] | WC ; 10.2k

SYNOPSIS ; Who knew that the boudoir pictures you’ve been getting off too your whole life would look so much better in person?

TAGS ; LARGE AGE-GAPS (19 yrs.), AFAB + Masc!Reader, Runaway / Delinquent!Reader, Fighting / Violence, Retired Pro-Hero Bakugou, Top!Reader, Bottom!Bakugou, Oral(Both!Recieving)

More specific tags on the fic.

—

✮ [ A GLIMPSE OF US ] | [NSFW, 18+ ] | WC ; 19.8k

SYNOPSIS ; You always felt like a stand-in in their relationship. Why wouldn’t you be? But you hoped that at least once, he saw you for what you were. That all those years together meant something more.

TAGS ; Bakudeku x Fem!Reader, Polyamory Negotations, Angst, Heavy Hurt/Comfort, Smoking / Nicotine Dependence, Miscommunication, Happy Ending / Getting Together, Threesomes, Oral (M+F!Recieving), Double Penetration, Anal, No

—

✮ [ I JUST WANNA BE YOURS ] | [NSFW, 18+] | WC ; 6.4k

SYNOPSIS ; Bakugou drops by your place and the two of you resolve some long standing tension in your kinda, sorta new relationship.

TAGS ; PWP, Fluff + Smut, AFAB + GN!Reader, Established Relationship, Oral (Reader!Recieving), Riding, Dirty Talk, Petnames, Overstimulation.

—

✮ [ THEY DON'T LOVE ME LIKE YOU DO ] | [NSFW, 18+] | WC ; 12.2k

SYNOPSIS ; You don't discuss your sex life with Bakugou. When he learns what you get up to, he can't help but be interested.

TAGS ; Pegging, Dom + AFAB+ GN!Reader, Sub!Bakugou Porn with Feelings, D/S Dynamics, Anal (M!Recieving), Oral (M+Reader!Recieving), Double Ended Harness, Aftercare

—

✮ [ BLOOM ] | [NSFW, 18+] | WC ; 6.2k

SYNOPSIS ; 5 times you get on Bakugou's nerves and 1 time you don't.

TAGS ; 5+1 Fic, Mutual Pining, Idiots to Lovers, Getting Together, Implicit Nsfw

—

✮ [ AM I WARM ENOUGH FOR YOU? ] | [SFW] | WC ; 5.6k

SYNOPSIS ; You speak to your soulmate in your dreams. He doesn't seem happy to see you. TAGS ; Soulmate AU, Fem!Reader, Mild Angst, Fluff, Alcohol

—✮ SHORT FIC [1k+]

✮ [ THE DEVIL WHO ADORES YOU ] | [SFW] | WC ; 1.1k

SYNOPSIS ; Katsuki wants to convince you to join him. he wants to love you in the light

TAGS ; GN!Reader (They have horns though), Forbidden Love, Angel!Bakugou, Devil!Reader, Religious Imagery, Age-Gap (Older!Reader)

✮ [ THROUGH THE CURRENT ] | [SFW] | WC ; 1k

SYNOPSIS ; You get into an accident trying to protect bakugou and he doesn’t take it well.

TAGS ; Angst, Pre-Relationship, GN!Reader, One-Sided Arguing

✮ [ PLEASE KISS ME WHEN YOU LEAVE ] | [SFW] | WC ; 2.7k

SYNOPSIS ; In the rare moments you and your boyfriend get in a spat, he thinks to himself how terrible it’d be to lose you.

TAGS ; GN!Reader, Programmer!Reader, Making-up, Mild Angst, Resolved Arguments, Established Relationships.

✮ [ CALLS HOME ] | [SFW] | WC ; 1.3k

SYNOPSIS ; Katsuki hates nosy interviews, but maybe coming clean about his love life will get these people off his back.

TAGS ; GN!Reader, Pure Fluff, Established Relationship, Reader is a Support Items Engineer

✮ [ LADY PRINCE ] | [SFW] | WC ; 1k

SYNOPSIS ; Bakugou thinks his patrol partner is the worst.

TAGS ; Fem!Reader, Fluff, Prince-Like!Reader, Tsundere!Bakugou

✮ [ ATTENTION SEEKING ] | [NSFW, 18+ ] | WC ; 1.3k

SYNOPSIS ; You punish the maid boy who keeps acting out in your presence

TRIGGER WARNING ; DUBCON, IMBALANCED POWER DYNAMIC.

TAGS ; GN!Reader, Referred to as 'Master of the House', Older!Reader, Caning / Corporal Punishment, Handjobs

✮ [ HALF-WAY THROUGH ] | [SFW] | WC ; 1.2k

SYNOPSIS ; Your boss is a stoic man, apparently full of surprises.

TAGS ; GN!Reader, Pre-Relationship, Boss!Bakugou x Secretary! Reader, Fluff

✮ [ EVERYWHERE WE'VE BEEN] | [SFW] | WC ; 1.2k

SYNOPSIS ; Bakugou hates most alphas. You are the third exception

TAGS ; Omegaverse, Alpha + GN!Reader, Omega!Bakugou, Scenting, Courting, Confession, Fluff.

✮ [ CUT TIES ] | [NSFW, 18+ ] | WC ; 2k

SYNOPSIS ; Bakugou lets you fuck his throat raw. you both like it a little more than you mean too.

TAGS ; Dom + AFAB + GN!Reader, Sub!Bakugou, Light Degradation, Face-fucking, Hair-Pulling, Praise, Oral (Reader!Recieving)

✮ [ ESCAPADES ] | [NSFW] | WC ; 1.6k

SYNOPSIS ; Bakugou always indulges your whims

TAGS ; AFAB!Reader (No gendered language but they are wearing a dress + heels), Established Relationship, Public Sex, Fingering, Riding, Fluff

✮ [ PRIMADONNA ] | [NSFW, 18+] | WC ; 1.2k

SYNOPSIS ; The pretty blonde who shows up to your job tells you to come find him.

TAGS ; Burlesque Dancer Bakugou, GN!Reader, Lapdances, No Explicit Porn but Mature Content

✮ [ TAKE IN STRIDE ] | [NSFW, 18+] | WC ; 1.4k

SYNOPSIS ; Bakugou has always been easy to tease. When he gets braces, you can’t help but wanna tease him a little more.

TAGS ; Dom + GN!Reader, Sub!Bakugo, Braces!Bakugou, Teasing, Mean!Reader

✮ [ ITS YOU, ALWAYS ] | [SFW] | WC ; 1k

SYNOPSIS ; You meet Bakugou's parents

TAGS ; GN!Reader, Fluff, Established Relationship

✮ [ ENEMIES TO LOVERS ] | [SFW] | WC ; 1.2k

SYNOPSIS ; It’s safe to say you don’t get along.

TAGS ; GN!Reader, Injury, Enemies to Lovers, Angst, Pre-Relationship, Kissing

✮ [ HOUSEHUSBAND BAKUGOU ] | [NSFW, 18+ ] | WC ; 1.3k (EXTRA)

SYNOPSIS ; Bakugou hates waiting for you but you always make it worth it.

TAGS ; Househusband!Bakugou, Dom + GN!Reader, Anal (M!Recieving), Praise

✮ [ BULLY!BAKUGOU ] | [NSFW] | (PART ONE) (PART TWO) (EXTRA)

SYNOPSIS ; Bakugou is campus hotshot and number one obstacle in your life.

TRIGGER WARNING ; DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, MANIPULATION, CRUELTY, BULLYING.

TAGS ; Fem + AFAB!Reader, Public Sex, Oral (F!Recieving)

✮ [ LOVE WILL FOLLOW, SOMEWHERE ] | [SFW] | WC ; 2.4k

SYNOPSIS ; The only difference between a confession and a eulogy is a beating heart.

TAGS ; GN!Reader, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Yearning, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Purpleish Prose

✮ [ WINNER TAKES ALL ] | [SFW] | WC ; 1k

SYNOPSIS ; You and Katsuki make a bet. It doesn’t go how you hope.

TAGS ; Fluff, Fem!Reader, Pre-Relationship.

✮ [ HEAD DOWN ] | [NSFW, 18+ ] | WC ; 1k

SYNOPSIS ; Bakugou gets mean with you.

TAGS ; Degradation, Fem!Reader, Face-fucking, Spit.

✮ [ HEADCANONS ] | [SFW] | WC ; 1.2K

SYNOPSIS ; Various headcanons with no particular theme.

TAGS ; GN!Reader, Established Relationship

✮ [ SHOJOU MANGA ] | [NSFW, 18+ ] | WC ; 1.5k

SYNOPSIS ; The different way Bakugou kisses you.

TAGS ; GN!Reader, Established Relationship, Brief NSFW.

✮ [ LOVERBOY] | [SFW] | WC ; 1.5k

SYNOPSIS ; Bakugou picks you up from a frustrating work dinner and makes you fall in love all over.

TAGS ; Fem!Reader, Established Relationship.

—✮DRABBLES [400-999]

└✮ Lifestyle Sub Bakugou + Dom!GN!Reader 18+

└✮ Drunk Dancing + GN!Reader

└✮ Metaphors about running + GN!Reader

└✮ Realizing he likes you + GN!Reader

└✮ "What does love feel like for you?" + GN!Reader

└✮ Sharing Fruit + GN!Reader

└✮ Pegging + AFAB + GN!Reader 18+

└✮ "Are you okay? You look mad." / "That's just my face." + GN!Reader

└✮ "I'm too sober for this." + GN!Reader

└✮ Pussydrunk Bakugou + AFAB +GN!Reader 18+

└✮ “There are no such thing as happy endings." + GN!Reader

└✮ Comforting You Through A Bad Day + GN!Reader

└✮ Biting Him Till He Bleeds + GN!Reader 18+

└✮Catboy!Bakugou + GN!Reader

└✮ Soft Dom!Bakugou + Fem + AFAB!Reader 18+

└✮ Coming Home After Work + GN!Reader

└✮ Tipsy Flirting + Fem!Reader

└✮ First Times + Fem + AFAB!Reader 18+

└✮ Choking + AFAB!Reader 18+

└✮ Good Girl Reader x Curious Bakugou 18+

└✮ "You don't have to do this alone."

└✮ Dad!Bkg + Fem!Reader

└✮ Inexperienced!Bakugou x AFAB + Fem!Reader 18+

└✮ Love As An Infinity

└✮ Singing To Him + GN!Reader

└✮ Borrowing Your Shirt As A Pillowcase + GN!Reader

└✮ Fucking You with His Chain Hanging + Fem +AFAB!Reader 18+

└✮ Solo Male Masturbation + AFAB!Reader 18+

—✮ BLURBS [-400]

#bakugou masterlist #management

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latenightsimping · 2 years ago

Text

THE EDGE

“...There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who’ve gone over.” - Hunter S. Thompson, Hell’s Angels

Summary: A part of the deal to freedom included a stay at Pennhurst. It’ll take everything to keep the hope that one day the locked doors will open, the windows will no longer have bars that block the view, and that one day, the name Eddie Munson will be synonymous with the word ‘innocent’. The hope, he never realised, would also come to be synonymous with your name.

Chapter: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: angst, heavy themes of inpatient treatment/hospitalisation, heavy themes of mental health, institutional deprivation of liberties, body injuries, mentions of suicidal ideation, themes of institutional abuse, can be a dark read (continue with that in mind, look after yourselves), canon divergence, Eddie survives the demobat attack, post-S4 timeline, slow burn romance, eventual smut, 18+, eventual fluff, there will be a happy ending

AN: Chapter three is finally here! Many thanks to my lovely boyfriend @mantorokk-writes for test reading and making the header, I'm forever in love with you <3 This series is gonna be a slow work in progress, but thank you for reading so far! Really excited to see where it's gonna go, and how we're gonna get these two out of this pickle. Enjoy!

Taglist: @edsforehead, @idkidknemore, @harrys-tittie, @gaysludge, @smileygoth

A congealed lump of what was apparently mac and cheese, boiled to death vegetables and bitter orange juice. Eddie had become used to shit food long ago, thanks to a lifetime of only buying the cheapest non-brand groceries to try and save costs. But this… This was something else. Fuck, he was surprised it even passed the mark for being fit for human consumption. It reminded him of the stories his old man used to tell about prison food, about how the trick was to eat it without thinking too much, barely savouring the taste before you swallowed. The similarity getting stuck in his throat.

But at least he wasn’t eating his meals in silence anymore. With you sitting opposite him, filling any dead air with talking about the hospital gossip, though he’d given up on trying to follow along after the first apparent affair taking place. But the content didn’t matter. For the first time in so long, maybe even longer than he realised, you had offered him a seat to get out of trouble with no motive behind the action. Had given him his own pack of cigarettes after swindling one from an orderly just before lunch started, the one that seemed to stare at your chest more than your eyes, putting yourself at risk for no gain of your own. It was exceedingly rare to find people that would do something out of the goodness of their hearts, and the question was rattling around his head with such a velocity that it tumbled from his lips before he even realised.

“Why are you doing this?”

Even he internally winced at the lack of warmth in his tone, making it sound more like an accusation than a question. But if it offended you, you didn’t act as if it bothered you. Instead, the corners of your lips twitched upwards, eyes drifting from your tray to his own as you tilted your head.

“What’dya mean?”

Giving himself a few needed seconds to reframe the words in his head with taking a sip of his drink, he swirled the contents of the paper cup, deciding to stare down into it rather than look up. “I mean, why are you helping me? You don’t know me.”

From the very quick glance upwards he chanced, there seemed to be something there that was bittersweet. Eyes slightly widened, mouth downturned, yet an ever so slight huff of a laugh as you balled up a serviette in your hands. “Trust me, I know how it feels to be the new guy on the wing. The way the others look at you like you’re a fuckin’ chew toy?”

He’d noticed the way the other patients stared, when the steel door behind him slammed shut. Some didn’t even look over, too caught up in their own internal world. But there’s a certain feeling that can overcome a person when they’re accustomed to having to be on high alert at all times. A certain flash of the eyes that makes your stomach churn, blood pooling to your feet and your mind telling you to run. You studied his face for a moment, a sympathetic smile briefly twitching at your lips.

“I had someone look out for me too, when I first got here,” you explained, the paper in your hand now being twisted and toyed with as you spoke. “She uh… Her name was Patty. She was this take no shit kinda woman. Taught me the best way to curb the hunger was smoking cigarettes, which orderlies would give pretty girls special treatment, which patients to never go near. That sorta useful shit.”

Though you smiled, it didn’t reach your downcast eyes. “She got sick last year. Didn’t say much about it, but it took a toll on her. It finally got her a couple of months back. And you know what the worst thing was about it?”

Plenty of what you were saying was ‘the worst thing’. Being caught on the wrong side of a power dynamic, having to go hungry because nobody cared, patients having to be caregivers because God forbid those that actually got paid to do it actually did their fucking jobs for once. All of those answers dying on his tongue, replaced with a slow shake of his head.

“Nobody came to see her in the end,” you muttered, brows furrowing as your voice cracked. “She told me she had a son, told me the doctors called him and told him, but he never came. I get it, I mean, not many of us have the luxury of seeing people from the outside… But she was on her fucking deathbed, y’know?”

When your eyes finally met his, glossy with unshed tears that you seemed so determined to never let overspill, there was a look to you that made all the pieces click together. Made the parts of him that he’d kept buried away for self preservation start to rise back to the surface. Taking a firm grasp of his heart and squeezing for good measure.

The look of pure fear.

The fear that one day, both of you would end up like Patty. Untethered to the world outside, cast adrift with the other lost souls. Taking the last few rattled breaths with nobody around to hear them, looking up to the sky and the view still blocked with bars. Nobody with spare change for the ferryman, forever stuck.

“I’m sorry.” It was all he could think to say, no other words seeming quite right. The tone as hollow as he felt, as shaky as the tremors in his hands that never quite seemed to go away. All he could think to say, but the truth. He was sorry you were here, if your proclaimed innocence was to be believed. He was sorry for himself too, deep down.

“It’s whatever,” you replied, clearing your throat as you tried and failed to staple the look of nonchalance back on your face with a half decent result. “Anyway, don’t worry about your first therapy session, alright? I got it covered.”

He shot you a small look of incredulity, head tilted to the side as he followed your lead in piling used napkins and cutlery onto his meal tray. “What’dya mean?”

The smile you gave him next was finally a genuine one, a glimmer in your eye that could only mean mischief.

“You’ll see.”

You could see the stress levels that you tried so desperately to lower over lunch to begin raising as you and Eddie filed into the day room for group therapy. How his jaw clenched so hard you were surprised he didn’t break enamel, a shortening fuse near a naked flame as he took his seat next to you. Leg bouncing with beats akin to a hummingbird’s heart, chewing at the skin around his ruined nails with eyesight dancing around the room to end up on the tile right in front of him. You couldn’t blame him; he was walking into the unknown, with no idea where the hell he would end up. You remembered the feeling well.

Others clad in the same off white uniform as you took their respective seats around you, the energy in the room a palpable, frantic buzz. Nerves, apathy, distaste and mocking. You could feel it all, see it in the faces around you that you’d come to know in the years that you’d been imprisoned. Small naked flames, that could be as harmless as a match or as intense as thermite. The day could go either way. And it would depend on the questions posed to them.

Dr. Madden made his way through the doors, adjusting the thick horned rimmed glasses that permanently perched on his beak-like nose as he took his seat. You’d never liked him; he was nosy, even for a psychiatrist, always putting two and two together to end up with an equation that made no fucking sense. Nothing could ever be simple, in his eyes. Someone’s violent outburst had some convoluted reasoning to do with Daddy issues and not being hugged enough as a child, rather than someone just needing a fucking cigarette and not being given one. It took everything within you not to roll your eyes into the back of your skull as he cleared his throat to begin.

“Good afternoon everyone,” he began, eyes settling over each patient for a brief second before focusing on Eddie. “We’re welcoming a new person into the wing today. Have you had any sort of therapy like this before, Mr. Munson?”

Eddie’s reply was a brief shake of his head, glance not leaving the cracks of the floor as he fiddled with the split ends of his hair. Madden’s bushy eyebrow raised a fraction as he sat himself slightly forward. “Well, we start with a brief check in. How we’re feeling, what we’d like to talk about in today’s session. Perhaps you could start us off? You seem nervous today.”

You couldn’t hold back a scoff, the psychiatrist’s beady eyes narrowing on you as you fished through your pockets for your pack of cigarettes. The look on his face evident that he wasn’t amused at your perceived insolence to his ‘therapeutic process’. He could shove that process where the sun didn’t shine, as far as you were concerned.

“He’s a newbie, of course he’s gonna be nervous,” you shrugged, waving over an orderly with a lighter, who seemed to be watching you with ever so slight trepidation as he ignited the flame that you used to puff life into your cigarette. Huffing out an exhale of smoke that was aimed in his direction. “Bit of a redundant question, isn’t it?”

Madden was a tough nut to crack, but you’d managed to get the veins in his neck bulging a couple of times. You just needed to know which buttons to press, and it seemed you hit one with a jab to his reasoning. “I don’t find it redundant at all,” he answered with a smile slightly too smug for your liking. “But if you think that an example of a check in could help, maybe you could go first instead?”

You took a sharp inhale as you gave a grimace of indifference, face scrunched up as you jerked your head towards an older lady that seemed on the edge of her seat to talk. “Why don’t you get Miriam to do it? From what I remember, she was just starting to open up about her fucker of an ex husband.”

Was using another patient’s anger, something you knew got them started into an hour long tangent until they were red in the face unethical? Maybe. But it was every man for himself out here, and you didn’t have anything akin to backup in the process. As expected, the woman launched into a tirade, screechings which contained the words “useless bastard” and “should have divorced him before he did it to me!” melding into the background as you shot a smug smirk in Madden’s direction. To his credit, he was hiding his distaste well, his only giveaway the slight flush creeping above his collar.

For most of the session, you managed to evade the heat from coming towards you and Eddie. A few more prods to Miriam, staying silent when the psychiatrist asked if anyone else had anything to add. A question to old man Hardy about the house he got kicked out from before being transferred, each person being used like a shield to hide from the questions you knew Madden had for you. You knew you were fucked from the moment he put his hand up to cut off Duane about his teenage trauma prematurely, eyes fixed on you as he sat back in his chair.

“Does Duane’s story resonate with you?” he asked with a heightened pitch of voice, head slightly tilted as his lips twitched upwards. It caused your back to straighten, knowing full well where he was going with this. Somewhere you swore never to go back to, ever since the nightmares ever so slightly decreased and the flashing images weren’t permanently burned into the back of your eyelids.

“No.”

The words reverberated around clenched teeth, knuckles turned white as you gripped the cracked pleather of the cushion you sat on. Out of your peripheral vision, you saw Eddie staring at you with a slight questioning to his glance, and it made your gut twist even more. You hated how suddenly the tentative power dynamic had switched. How your already lacking control was going to spiral even further, if Madden willed it.

“I think it might, though,” the good doctor continued, the slight smirk being poorly hidden as his head tilted to the side. “You had a lot happen when you were eighteen, didn’t you? When you made the choice to-”

“I’m not going to talk about it,” you snapped back, folding your arms as a poorly constructed buffer between you and the man opposite. Your eyes glanced at the clock on the wall, a slight ease of tension as you realised the time. “Not with only five minutes left of the session.”

“But you’re going to have to talk about it sooner or later,” he countered, daring to look slightly sympathetic as he regarded you. “You’ve been here two years, and you’ve never talked about that night. It doesn’t show much progress, now does it?”

You wanted to stand up, pick up your chair, and crash it over the top of his head. How the fuck would he know what ‘progress’ you’d been making? How much work you’d had to put into yourself, rationalising and justifying everything about the night that changed the path of your life, so much that you probably could never step foot on the original trail if you tried. How you still tortured yourself with what you could have done differently, the actions that you did take haunting you like spectres? Madden knew nothing of how often you’d dragged yourself off the precipice time and time again, nothing but bloody fingernails and a quickly ebbing will to live, as you weighed up the decisions of falling asleep to never wake up again against staying alive to do everything in your power to clear the stain on your name.

To Madden’s credit, he didn’t push further. Letting the silence hang in the air, perhaps a non-verbal push that might get you talking. It might have worked, once upon a time. When you had no secrets to hide, too worried about what others thought, wanting to please people so much that it deprived you of happiness. But that was before you were branded a psycho, tossed into this place with the key thrown away. Now, you couldn’t give a shit about what others thought.

Except, there was a way your stomach dropped when you looked over to see the way Eddie looked at you. Not with disgust or horror, which you were used to by now. There was slight concern in his eyes, mixed with empathy, the combination making you want to squirm in your seat. You didn’t even know each other, yet his humanity seemed to still be intact for now, seeing another person clearly struggling and not being able to do anything about it.

You decided to stare at the clock on the wall for the rest of the session, filtering out all other noises and focusing on watching the minute hand strike closer and closer until time was up.

As you put away chairs, you expected Eddie to ask you about it. Maybe try to pry, or get answers for questions that could be in his own mind. But he didn’t. He stayed silent as you both wandered back to the table you met at, sitting down with him wordlessly reaching for the deck of cards in the middle and starting to shuffle. And silent you stayed. Going through the motions of a routine you knew too well; free time, ‘music’ therapy - as if listening to the same vinyl of Bach twice a week for two years would do anything other than make you want to smash your head against the chipped white walls. Dinner consisting of a brick of so-called ‘meatloaf’ that you knew well enough to avoid even attempting to eat, settling for tasteless vegetables and vaguely lime flavoured Jell-o instead.

Even silent when the orderly Nguyen told you to haul ass to the laundry room for work placement, and to take your new ‘friend’ with you. You were brought out of the routine of folding sheets when you heard Eddie clear his throat, looking up to see him slightly rattled as he sorted various clothing into separate piles.

“Hey uh… You don’t have to say anything if you don’t wanna, but… Thanks. For today.” You saw the corners of his lips twitch upwards, a ghost of a smile as his eyeline landed on the messy stack of undershirts. “Didn’t have to stick your neck out of me, but you did. Appreciate it.”

You mustered the leftover social energy you had to lift your shoulders into a slight shrug, rubbing the back of your head whilst the other hand took your weight as you leaned slightly on the table. “It’s nothing. Sorry for not being so talkative I just… Still don’t wanna talk about why I’m here, y’know?”

A curt nod was his reply at first, lips a narrow line and eyes darting around as if he was thinking hard about something. Finally glancing towards the door, then around the room, as if to make double sure that what he was about to say wouldn’t be overheard. He looked panicked; either a deer in the headlights or a lion ready to defend itself, you weren’t sure.

“They said I killed people.”

It was so quiet you barely picked up on it, and you had to admit, it took you aback. There was an initial flight or flight reaction that doused your autonomic system, as if his words set off a red light in your head and you had to start looking for an improvised weapon. However, that was pure instinct, only for a second before logic took over. For someone who was apparently a killer, he certainly did look hollow about it all. Besides. Those in glass houses…

“Did you do it?” you mumbled back, eyes leaving his to take the pressure of both of you, hands busying themselves with folding the now grey sheet in front of you, toying with the frayed corner to try and conceal it in the fold somehow.

“No.”

You found yourself at a precipice. He had stuck his neck out to tell you his charge, not knowing if you’d stick around or bolt and leave him on his own again. It was a sign of trust; an olive branch, that you could either accept or leave hanging between you. You had only known Eddie a day. Less than that, maybe seven hours, tops. But so far, he seemed to have his wits about him. He didn’t strike you as the judgemental type. He didn’t pry, and he tried to distract you when you were at your lowest, instead of offering useless advice or forcing you to open up. When you looked up at him, there was no hint of deceit that you could tell. He was staring at you with those intense eyes of his, an expression reading both ‘I’m telling the truth’ and ‘dear God, I hope you fucking believe me’.

For so long, you had wanted reinforcements in this place so badly. To not fight alone, to have backup. In the outside world, no way would you trust someone this fast. But this was Pennhearst. A place with different rule sets. You needed to take the help wherever it came from, and hope it didn’t blow back in your face later.

You needed to give him something in return.

You didn’t falter with eye contact as you said the words you thought you’d never say. The words that made your stomach churn, made you want to flinch as you said them. “They said I killed people, too.”

You saw the look on his face to be one of bewilderment, eyes scanning you up and down as if he’d never seen you before. You wondered if that’s what you’d looked like not five seconds ago, mirroring each other as you confessed your sins. “Did you do it?”

“No.”

The crease between his eyebrows seemed to smooth, after what felt like hours of staring at each other, the only other sounds the rhythmic knocking of the decrepit industrial dryers. It was you who finally broke the silence, busying yourself again with grabbing the pile of undershirts near you by the bottom and pulling it towards you to begin folding. “I don’t expect you to believe me. And if you don’t want me to know about what happened, I’m not gonna push it.” You shook your head as you frowned at the fabric in your hands.

“Why do you believe me? When I say I didn’t do it?”

You glanced back up at him to find a worried expression on his face, staring at you like he couldn’t quite believe you. As if it was too good to be true, to finally be believed. You wracked your brain for an answer, only to shrug and say the first thing on your mind. “Because guilty people don’t look so frightened of their consequences. I suppose on a subconscious level, they know they deserve the hell they created for themselves.”

You heard a sound which you figured to be a sharp exhale of air through his nose, most likely an attempt at a wry laugh. “You don’t look frightened.”

Your lips turned downward as you frowned again. “You get good at hiding it after a while, I guess.”

You heard your name being called, so softly that your heart nearly shattered. Not your last name being barked out with disdain, or in a patronising tone like a shrink would. It was said like somebody actually gave a shit. You looked up to be met with a look that was one of genuine concern, his eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly parted as if he was wondering what to say.

It was getting too intense for your liking.

Shaking your head as you cleared your throat, you flashed a tight smile as your folding became hurried. “Finish that pile quick, yeah? Orderlies hit the roof when you don’t finish your chores on time.”

To his credit, Eddie didn’t push it. The rest of the time being filled with small talk and comfortable silences, until your names were called to be taken back to your room for the night. The motions of getting ready to bed had become mechanical a long time ago, on autopilot as you brushed your teeth and changed clothes. Hearing the call for lights out, and getting plunged into darkness against your will. You knew that first checks were in an hour.

You had sixty minutes to cry to yourself about finally being seen, about not being treated like a criminal that deserved the way you were being treated. Hugging the pillow to your face and willing yourself not to be making a sound, clutching the cheap cotton between your fingers as if your life depended on it. Sixty minutes until you needed to shove the emotions back down, and face tomorrow, same as you always did.

Same as you always did, but at least you had someone on your side.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you #eddie munson self insert #stranger things self insert

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hoperays-song · 1 year ago

Text

Sing 1 Commentary and Review Pt. 3

Welcome back to the madness loves!!! Also, I tried to tone down the commentary so I get further in the movie this time. Is this an elaborate plan to distract me from my fic being with my beta reader? Yes! Am I using it for content? Also yes! Enjoy!

Yes, I am trying to restrain myself more this time, it's hard.

------------------------------------

Guys, guys, guys, here me out here... I think Barry minds.

Also, headcanon I'm not sure I ever mentioned on here before but the reason Barry minds Johnny taking his spot isn't jealousy of being passed over but because he didn't want his honorary nephew to have a larger role in the gang than he already did. He was trying to protect him.

HERE. This is the moment where Marcus confirms they were going to stop stealing after this last heist. They were legit only doing it out of necessity because the needed money.

(aka my debt theory is going strong bwahahaha)

Ok but the way Marcus looks at Stan and Barry when Johnny storms off, just his face of "that's weird right? or is it normal teenage angst? what's going on?" is so funny. He's so lost.

Also, I genuinely believe that Johnny might have been planning on telling his family about the singing here (he comes back much later but seems still really hyped up like he was getting the confidence to do so) but didn't when he was given the role of getaway driver. Even if it was just for one job, it clearly made him feel way less seen as a person and like he was a disappointment for not fitting into the mold of who he thinks his father wants him to be (the queer metaphor is still going hard I see, lovely).

👏 Relationship👏 Counseling👏

Engineer Rosita My Beloved!!!! <3

This woman definitely has at least two masters degrees in mechanical engineering because the machine she made is something out of Willy Wonka.

So... there either were intake forms where they all listed their talents and Johnny put down a skill he hadn't done since he was little or... Buster legit just asked this teenager to learn an skill that takes years upon years of training in like a month. For some weird reason, i'm leaning towards the latter and Johnny having experience is a coincidence.

Horrified Punk Rocker™️

I completely forgot that Meena wrote out what she was gonna say to Buster on her hand. I love that and I will be including it everywhere.

Also, unrelated, but Buster is on his second felony of the movie right now and we barely are passed the 30 minutes mark. Not to mention the numerous misdemeanors.

And, the workshop where they build their props in apparently on the second floor according to Buster. That seems like you're making more work for yourself with all the moving up and down but, you know, you do you.

Mike puntable moments counter: 19

He really does not think things through does he?

Lance puntable moments counter: 17

Dude, she's your girlfriend, for fucks sake, be supportive!!!! It's not rocket science over here!!!

Johnny making fun of his dad and exaggerating his accent will never not be funny to me. He's acting like a regular teenager, not a gang member, and it's both adorable and hysterical.

Judith has arrived!!! We love characters who are actually just trying to do their jobs here. Like imagine being the bank representative assigned to Buster freaking Moon. You'd be pissed off too.

... Gay. That's the only commentary I can add here. That's very gay.

Gunter, the chaos enabler, Rosita, the chaos handler, and Caspar, the chaos.

You just know as soon as Caspar got home he was begging him mom to let him hang out with the fun dance guy again.

Johnny's over here going through the nine stages of grief about his singing career.

Also, do we know why Johnny was called away this time? Because they weren't planning any heists in between the one we have already seen and the failed one to our knowledge. So, was he actually called back because of something to do with the garage? It would technically be a family business thing then after all.

Ash, I am so sorry. About everything you go through in this movie. So sorry. You get adopted by a crazy guy and an old rockstar by the end of the next movie if it's any comfort (probably not but worth a shot).

Also, their apartment is huge!!! How are they affording that when struggling to find and keep gigs???

Lance puntable moments counter: 27

I am once again reminded that the mob canonically exists here and Mike thought cheating them was a good idea?!?

Mike puntable moments counter: 23

The last moments those poor flowers had. RIP.

The dramatic music that appears whenever she does is honestly amazing. And I love how she just seems to despise Buster on principal here.

But the fact that Eddie's grandmother knows Buster? And a fair bit about his life? Eddie has definitely mentioned him and also Buster went to Eddie's graduation!! That's so sweet, you know he was one of those people who make huge posters of their loved ones faces and their degree.

This, my lovely gentlefolk and assorted cryptids, is what a bad idea looks like!

Ok, we have arrived to the failed heist. Now personally, I would have just pretended to be sick so that Buster would have let me go without worrying about the show. That way my role in the show would be safe while I would also be out of debt, win-win. However, that's clearly not what happened here.

I stand with the fact that this could have been easily avoided but I do not solely blame Johnny here. He's a kid. Kids make mistakes all the time. He just made a mistake. Was it a bigger mistake than a lot of people's? Yes, but it was still a mistake. He is not at fault here.

As for the gang, smart move on their part to immediately surrender. That way they lessened their sentence by not resisting arrest. Also, Marcus looks genuinely worried when he realises Johnny is not there, and I completely understand that. He has no idea where his son is and there's police everywhere, he's bound to be panicked.

Rosita is amazing. I love her, she's so sweet.

Ok, genuinely forgot about Gunter and Rosita's fight at the dress rehearsals.

Also, Mike puntable moments counter: 25

Ok, I feel like we missed a part of this conversation. We jump right to Marcus asking where Johnny was and looking pissed. I can almost guarantee that that conversation did not start like that. Marcus and Johnny are shown to be close, despite their communication issues. He's going to be upset, yes, but he's still gonna be worried about his kid. Marcus definitely asked if Johnny was ok or arrested or sick first.

Also, ouch. This scene hurts. The overall message of familiar rejection for you just trying to be yourself, of who you actually are is not good enough? It makes me sob every single time. This is just insanely painful.

(Yes, this is a central part of Johnny's story being queer coded and as someone who had a similar situation happen when I came out, I'm just saying it's very realistic).

Then the stealing bit afterwards being reference for pushing yourself into who others want you to be to feel love? And Johnny choosing even then it's better if he is his actual true self? Amazing, perfection, true cinema.

This is the emptiest grocery store I've ever seen in my entire life. Seriously. Is anyone other than these two there? I'm guessing a cashier but I don't see one.

Also this security dude is an amazing hype man, just cheering and blasting music.

Buster, stop encouraging kids to commit felonies. I know you're on three now but seriously man???

WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND GAVE THIS GREMLIN A BLOWTORCH?!?!?!?! ARE YOU TRYING TO DESTROY SOCIETY???? Also, Meena and Buster were renovating the theatre at the same time as Johnny was practicing with Mrs. Crawly. I completely forgot they were there at the same time?

---------------------------------------

This is taking way longer than I thought but hey, it's time consuming!

Be back in a few (these take a bit to edit sorry)! - <3 Gooseless

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yoshyoshy · 1 year ago

Note

When the crowd cheered for Chainsaw Man, Yoshida saw and interested in Denji only. GOD this one gets me every time like this is literally how fujimoto sets up them coming across each other for the first time in this part??????? it's definitely saying something! i am going insane.

Lastly, the famous background scene full of paintings with each different objects and symbols. Which I might try to debunk later on, but it's for another post. you definitely need to make a post of this at some point. i don't have any smart points to make, but it'd make my day if towards the end of this part yoshida and denji have another scene that mirrors this and the cage between them is opened or something.

Yoshida's memory is hinted to be weirdly strong. He remembers so many details even from small talks months ago, talking about Denji and "10.000¥ is 10.000¥ oh my god i didn't even pick up the thing about the ten thousand yen!

If there's anything I can do, I want you to come to me" has the same energy with "It's save through cloth, right?". It's not just a random empty words. It must be relevance in the future, right? RIGHT??? lmaoooo it's safe through cloth. i love angst too much so i like to imagine this'll come back somehow when denji needs someone to have his back and yoshida will be there for him :)

I am VERY positive that their relationship would go deeper beyond what we have now. Honestly let's be real, it would be more interesting if their relationship develops romantically. Not only it would break shounen rules, but it also will be a major character development for both Yoshida and Denji ABSOLUTELY. i'd be shocked if yoshida just drops off the face of the planet and the relationship between him and denji is not further explored. also, csm as a series is already flipping a lot of shounen tropes on its head, so if fujimoto wanted to take it to the next level with making yoshiden the romantic pairing than that would be breaking so much ground - and fujimoto has already proven in the past that he's not like most shounen mangakas who don't ever include lgbt characters in their works (plus when fujimoto does it it's treating them like actual characters and not in a mocking way). apparently his editor was also liking yoshiden content on twitter so we at least know the guy who's helping fujimoto out with the series is definitely aware of this pairing lol i think as this part progresses it will shed more light on why yoshida has taken such a liking to denji (or would take a liking to him) because at this point there's not a substantial amount to go on, and if i look back at part 1 at most all i get is yoshida liking denji because he said he'll eat vomit if you paid him or maybe denji's persistent denji energy left an impression on him lol

hi, your yoshiden posts are making me go insane at midnight. thank you so much for the good food! i was wondering if you have any personal thoughts on the reason(s) why yoshida would be romantically interested in denji? (or have the potential to be?) and if you think there's anything in the manga so far that does/could point to that?

Thank you for your question, yoshyoshy! Sorry for my late responses.

About why Yoshida would be romantically interested in Denji... honestly I have no basis for that, it just from VIBES and my feelings alone like- In my eyes, they have this weird gay tension that's only shounen mc and his *completely opposite designed* "rival" could have.

HOWEVER when we talk about CSM style of foreshadowing, I think yes, their relationship progression is already hinted since chapter 103 and 104. We, as the readers, just don't know exactly how it will ends up to be. We have the puzzle pieces, but not knowing the bigger picture. It could be platonic, it could be romantic (either one sided or not).

CHAPTER 103 SYMBOLISM

In chapter 103, there's so many details set up for both of them that I will show one by one. May be a reach, but knowing Fujimoto, we can't really predict or ignore anything tbh.

When the crowd cheered for Chainsaw Man, Yoshida saw and interested in Denji only.

Yoshida seems to be more relaxed (leaning in) and comfortable sitting with Denji than Fami (in chapter 122).

There are metaphor using their drinks to showcase their personality. Yoshida is iced coffee: bitter, dark, tired, and more mature-like. Meanwhile Denji is orange juice: sweet, sour, and more childish-like. Both standing next to each other (with height differences too). Which is very cute in my opinion.

Lastly, the famous background scene full of paintings with each different objects and symbols. Which I might try to debunk later on, but it's for another post.

CHAPTER 104 REVISITED

Now we go to the next "foreshadow" chapter, which is my personal favourite because we get teased by the probability of new trio. But we will focus on yoshiden this time.

"I'll stop you by force if I have to." Yeah, he already did. But what interesting about that is, he never *actually* try to hurt Denji. He always try to minimize the impact of his force method and tries to make Denji understand (the problem is, Yoshida is really just that BAD at giving reasonings and excuses).

Yoshida's memory is hinted to be weirdly strong. He remembers so many details even from small talks months ago, talking about Denji and "10.000¥ is 10.000¥"

"If there's anything I can do, I want you to come to me" has the same energy with "It's save through cloth, right?". It's not just a random empty words. It must be relevance in the future, right? RIGHT???

IN MY CONCLUSION

I think that's it. If you think there's more evidence to foreshadow their relationship, feel free to discuss about it! For me personally, their dynamics is very interesting and it would take much more effort to develop them into nothing than something.

Also their dynamics goes from "haha funny comedic duo with gay jokes sprinkles" to "I could see you for who *you* are, but our traumas and our limited social abilities has shaped us to threaten each other, we understood everything yet we understand nothing (also let's blame the government)" in exactly 30 chapters after their first meeting in part 2, crazy.

#you have me eating out of the palm of your hands thank you so much this is delicious!

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foxymoxynoona · 2 years ago

Text

Lone Blue Egg (Pt. 6 - Final)

Header and lines by the talented @awrkives

Summary: Jungkook is a simple man. He goes to work, he hangs out with friends, he worries about finding a mate to take home for his hometown breeding season. Maybe he spends a little more money on cam girls than is fiscally responsible but he has niche tastes. Maybe he feels a bit adrift, but he’s a young penguin hybrid, supposedly in his prime, far from his crèche. At least he’s good at one thing: taking care of his precious egg. A comfort egg, not a real egg, he’s not a real penguin, just a man with penguin DNA and behavioral tendencies. Just like Yoongi isn’t actually an owl, even if he does stay up all night and sometimes hoot to fuck with their roommates. But this is a real love story, even if a slightly odd one.

Penguin Hybrid Jungkook x Bird Female OC Book 1 in the Birdtan Series

CW/TAGS: humor, drama, angst, cringe, explicit sex, toy play/toy uh obsession?, ice cubes, porn, cam girls and masturbation, oviposition, oral (both), edging, semi-public shenanigans, mammoth condoms, specism, language, theft

Read on AO3 or below

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST

The thing about Rana was she took everything if you let her. Your time, your shirts, your heart, your favorite mug, your blankets, the last bite of your burrito. And Jungkook let her, every time, and only whined about it afterwards until she’d give him the apology kiss. Sometimes after the apology kiss she squished his cheeks or slapped his ass, and he welcomed that too. He wanted her to take everything, him and everything in his life. He wanted to give her everything, because what she gave him in return was so much greater. He thought about that every day, about how lucky he was. How weird she was. How she was teaching him to love that word, and the weird things about himself too, because she did.

He thought about it every time she did something that made his eyebrows raise or his eyes narrow suspiciously. Honestly, Rana did a lot of things like that.

“Babe, where’s the hair dryer?” Rana shouted down the stairs. It echoed easily to the nearby open-concept kitchen and dining room, all gray stone and dark wood. The strings Rana had hung along the walls by the front door tinkled nicely against the stone when the door opened, and now Jungkook associated that pleasing sound with the comfort and relief of coming home at the end of the day. Home to Rana. Home to their beautiful new house. Home to the most impressive collection of boxes anyone had ever dreamed of.

“In a box!” he took great joy in shouting back.

“Which one?”

“I dunno! You packed ‘em!”

She had. Even most of his boxes because when she’d come over while he was packing, she’d deemed his packing methods “horrifying,” “barbaric,” and “an embarrassment to nesting animals everywhere.” Apparently she thought it was really important that things were wrapped and sealed. She had no trust for movers. It had always worked for Jungkook before, and he had not appreciated the way she cradled his face in her hands and informed him oh babe, that just means the movers repacked for you… That might explain why it had been so expensive… He hadn’t really paid attention last time…

He heard her annoyed growl and smiled to himself, enjoying the victory of Rana learning that boxes were not the best way to live. Not that it was a big deal yet. They’d only been in the house two weeks, and had done a fair amount of unpacking in that time. Art first, necessities second, Jungkook had noticed… but they’d gotten around to kitchen items and clothing and toiletries –not including said hair dryer.

To be fair, it was in a way his fault unpacking was going slowly. Rana had wanted to just start dumping boxes out in the middle of rooms and organize through the mess. Which he had told her was “horrifying,” “barbaric,” and “an embarrassment to nesting animals everywhere.” Wasn’t there supposed to be hard work and purpose and beauty to nesting? Which had set her off cackling, and he hadn’t been able to resist eating that laugh, and they’d wound up having sex in between several towers of boxes, right there on the floor. A tower fell over on them while they climaxed. Rana swore she would tease him until the day he died that the boxes falling on top of them was what had actually made him orgasm. It wasn’t! He hated how much she teased him.

Ok, he loved it… Even if she kept jumping onto his back when he lay down now and demanding, “Did you cum from that?!” Fuck, he loved her laughter.

But now he teased her, calling ahead as he jogged up the stairs, “Why do you need it?”

“Reasons!”

“Uh huh, like?”

“Koooo,” she whined. “Just help meeee.”

They had moved quickly in their relationship –not just quickly into the house together, because he couldn’t stand to have his girlfriend living in that basement apartment for more than a month, but emotionally too. They’d been together for three and a half months now, but it was plenty of time for Jungkook to know with absolute certainty that this was it. This was endgame. He fit with Rana and she fit with him. This was it.

Part of that was how quickly and easily they molded to each other’s habits; it was easy to flit in and out of each other’s routine. No bumps. Natural. Jungkook went to gather art materials with her but left her alone to work; she came over to cook dinners with (for) him and his roommates, then left him alone to go to the gym. Sometimes even after that, late at night, one would text the other hey if you’re still awake, it’s kinda cold without you… Had they ever failed to go? They were spending an obscene amount on cab fare. Buying a house together was fiscally responsible. And fast and easy, considering how much he had socked away. And now Rana was his girlfriend and they had a house together and they were learning how to fit their styles together –her nesting, his cleaning, her brightness, his calm, her direction, his trust. It was going well. Very well.

All this was to say, Jungkook knew by now that Rana’s hair required as much attention as his dyed hair –which he’d recently tinted from that old platinum blonde to a cool, silvery hue and chopped some of it off so it showed more of his face. He felt like he looked cooler now. Like a guy with a hot girlfriend. He was that now!

He knew Rana full washed her hair once a week, but sometimes just with conditioner in between, and he could always tell even if she washed it while he was gone because she smelled extra good. He also knew she never used a hairdryer and had acted like him using a hair dryer was a crime, even when he’d insisted he didn’t use it much, that he knew how to take care of his hair when it was blonde, but sometimes he had no choice and used it on low if he couldn’t wait for it to dry before he needed to leave the house.

Which begged the question, “I will but why do you need it? Something nefarious?”

“Found it!”

He passed the bathroom, but she wasn’t in it and was not about to shower. He knew because she liked to turn the water on insanely hot, let it steam up the bathroom, then open the window so cold air came in while she took her hot shower. He had begrudgingly admitted it was really nice, that sharp contrast of hot and cold, when she’d dragged him in there with her. To fuck, in case that wasn’t obvious. Now he kept popping boners while he showered thinking about it, the water nearly scalding his back, the cold air making her nipples pebble–

He passed the bedroom, which she also wasn’t in, and found her in the second room, a room they hadn’t decided what to do with yet. She’d suggested he take it and make it a gym room or a gaming room, whatever he wanted. She had her own space, after all. During the walkthrough, she’d instantly claimed the dining room as her art space, pointing out the windows would be good for light and ventilation. That was Rana; she didn’t see a dining room, she saw a room and you could do whatever you wanted with it. He’d balked at first, because it was a room for dining, and what about when she wanted to work on her art in quiet –or when he didn’t want to see the incredible mess she would make while he was just trying to cook or chill in the living room? So she’d hung curtains over the wide door frame and he’d decided, in the two weeks they’d been here so far, that actually he liked being able to hear her working back there while he sang to himself cooking dinner. Privacy together. It was perfect. He only had to call her name and she would just poke her head out of the curtain, or drag it all the way open and he could watch her work. Besides, the kitchen was big enough for a breakfast table and stools along the bar.

But what to do with the second room? He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed as she held the hairdryer up victoriously. He could turn it into a gaming room but he worried he’d keep her awake at night, and anyway she hadn’t minded at all when he set his big computer up in a nook off the living room a few days ago. She’d just opened the curtain to her art space and talked to him while he was waiting for things to install. He could make it a workout space but there was a gym just down the street and he’d rather spend that money on other stuff.

“I need it to melt plastic wrap,” she told him, as if this explained everything. She stopped as she passed him at the doorway though and hip checked him for no reason. Well, the reason was to be cute, judging by her playful smile.

“Do I want to know why?”

“Art, Jungkook.”

“Yeah, what art project?”

“Maybe you don’t want to know… I’m not sure it’s going to work…”

“What’s the risk you burn our new house down?”

“I would never– oh hey, I was thinking… maybe we should go on a romantic vacation soon,” she suggested, heading down the hall, down the stairs, trusting him to follow. He did. Complete subject change, no warning; only her mind knew what the connection was, but he’d follow her there anyway.

“To where?”

“Where can we see the ice shelves?” she asked. “Greenland? Patagonia?”

“Ice shelves?”

“Yeah, you know, big tall cold blue? Our bedroom looks like–”

“I know what an ice shelf is,” he rolled his eyes. They reached her art space curtain and she tossed the hairdryer in but didn’t pull the curtain back. Suspicious. “Why… Rana, what are you up to?”

“No, it would be research… business expense…”

“You don’t have a business,” he pointed out. “Wait, did you let Seokjin help you set up the LLC–”

She chewed her lip and admitted, “I’m thinking about it… I mean, when I get the public works contract, it’ll be better… and my shop things are really starting to bring in some money, so—”

“Yeah, so let him help you, I guess,” Jungkook shrugged.

Rana froze. She lowered her chin and looked up at him through her eyelashes. She took a step closer and then another.

“Stooop,” he whined, turning away, but she pounced and grabbed his face and squished his cheeks together.

“Nooooot,” she pouted at him, then puckered her lips and kissed his before he could complain about specism. He had not thought it was funny (ok a little) when the very first thing she’d ordered shipped to their new house was a vibrator that looked like a penguin. He had not thought it was funny (ok it was a little endearing) when he realized he was in her phone as Lover Noot. But he had fucking loved it when Steven had nooted at him, trying to be funny, and Rana had shouted him down until he cowered and apologized.

Steven and Chad loved her, by the way. He couldn’t believe they finally agreed on something.

“Don’t be jealous,” she continued, patting his cheeks. “You don’t know anything about LLCs. But you helped me with my website! He doesn’t know anything about that.”

Jungkook scowled, “You’re supposed to say but I’m your boyfriend and you love me more and I’m the number one priority in your life, not him.”

“Yeah, that! It’s just you and my art and then him.”

“Wait… I share top billing with your art? Now wait a second.”

“No, babe, wait, noooo,” she exaggerated. “It’s only you.” She blinked and whispered, “And my art.”

“You know I can hear when you whisper right?”

“No, it’s like fine print, no one reads that.”

“Rana–” She giggled at his scolding and as he caught her around the waist and pulled her close. It was fine for Seokjin to help her with the website. Whatever. Someday Jungkook wouldn’t be jealous. Not yet. Despite Rana’s assurance that Seokjin was just her childhood friend and there was none of “that kind of thing” going on, Jungkook thought the dude was a little too obviously hopelessly in love with her, now that they’d spent time together for him to see it. But it was one sided. Rana promised. Seokjin’s love was definitely hopeless because Rana was his. They lived together. They were going to be together forever. Sure, he was still just sporting the “boyfriend” label for now, but it had only been a few months. He’d move up through the hierarchy in due time. Top of the leaderboards.

“Let me see what you’re making,” he insisted, swaying her as if a current rocked them just because it felt good. There was no music playing, not even in his head, but he always felt a nice rhythm connecting them when they touched.

“No, you can’t.”

“Fine…” He let it drop.

“You never push to see my art,” she mused. “When I say no. How come?”

“Ah well… you’ll show me when you’re ready…”

She looked at him with that searching gaze again, the one that always read right through him. It always made him nervous but he stayed still for it, because so far Rana had not seen anything that made her run. And he felt like he’d done a pretty big number on her back at Christmas, and maybe he wasn’t the most graceful guy to ever adapt to being a boyfriend, but he was trying and she always understood that. Her searching gaze was like having your eyes or ears checked. A little uncomfortable but you had to just endure it.

“It’s part of the public works thing–”

“You heard back!?” he gasped, gripping her hips tighter.

Her bright smile gave him his answer before she said, “Nope, just being optimistic!” He knew her smiles now. Not all of them, that would probably take a lifetime to catalog. But he knew a lot of them now, including the one where she wanted you and herself to believe something until it was impossible to believe it anymore.

“But you haven’t heard no,” he pointed out, the best optimism he could offer. He wanted to blindly support her. He always was afraid of how crushed she might be if she didn’t get it. He might be good at lying to himself, but not to her. If he faked it, she’d see he was lying. It would poke at her confidence. He had to rely on logic and prove his belief in her. “If it was no, they would tell you fast.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“And even if they’re a no, your stuff is so awesome you can probably send it somewhere else instead, no problem.”

“It’s big.”

“You’re…. Building a big thing in there?”

“No no, just some little pieces of it…” She hesitated, looking at the curtain. She’d opened it before, so it must only now be her working on the more private things. “I can just show you–”

“Show me when you’re ready. Even if that’s not until the opening.”

Her crooked smile made clear he’d said the right thing as she agreed, “Yeah, at least by then. You might have to help me set up… but it might be nice if you don’t see it…”

“I can close my eyes while I help. I’ll take my contacts out.”

“That would be difficult. Maybe just offer to forget?”

“Yeah sure I can do that too.” He pushed her hair back so he could kiss her forehead and breathe in the scent of her. He slid his arms around her shoulders. It still was crazy to him he had her and could just hold her like that, that she wanted to be held like that, that he felt comfortable to do it. She didn’t feel separate to him. Holding her was just holding another part of himself. Despite longing for a mate his whole life, he’d failed to understand what it would actually be like. Sandals in front of the door, hairs in the shower drain, spices dumped into the wrong jar because she could identify them by sight but he had to smell them first, blankets ripped off and wrapped into a bundle on her side of the bed, bras dangling like mobiles around the laundry room. A soft warm body snuggled against his when they watched TV, adorable giggles when they shared deep thoughts in the moments before falling asleep at night, a chin on his shoulder to see what she could steal while he was cooking,

But she sighed, “You never forget anything.”

“I’ll try harder.”

“Thanks, babe.” She kissed his cheek and he warmed at the cool moist touch to his skin. He turned his head, nuzzling his nose against her cheek in turn, brushing it against her nose and forehead and then down to her mouth. The longer it took to actually get to the kiss, the happier Rana was. He’d felt silly at first, kissing her everywhere before her mouth, but Rana was never shy about her pleasure or joy, and it made it easy to do the things she liked. He was trying to be less shy about his own, but she still left him speechless when she kissed him first, when she slid her fingers through his hair, or when she slipped her hands into his back pockets and squeezed. She was obsessed with his ass. It was nice to have someone who finally noticed it.

She giggled into his mouth as she pulled her hand out, the gold bracelet looped over her fingers.

“What’s this?” she asked. Now he smiled too, nipping at her nose when she laughed harder.

“A present.”

“A reward for pick-pocketing.”

“We agreed you only pick my pockets now…”

“So you hide gifts there until I try it?”

“Well you never go very long without trying it,” he pointed out, and she looked at his crooked grin like he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. That’s how he made her feel. “I have to reward you for good behavior.”

She rested her head against his shoulder and brought her hand around. It was just a simple gold bracelet, one of a set of three he’d tuck away for her to find in the next few days. His hand brushed lazily along her hip as she admired it and then wiggled to slip it on before hugging him tightly again.

“What’s the occasion?”

“I need an occasion to buy my girl something special?”

“I knew you’d be insufferably romantic,” she snickered against his collarbone. It sent a dangerous thrill down his spine. “Thank you.” He almost said back thank YOU but didn’t because she’d laugh at him. He knew she appreciated the gifts and the house and his presence in her life. She made him feel confident about that. And he appreciated her and the fresh way she saw the world and the openness with which she shared her love and her passion, and how accepting she was with his own needs and limits. God, she was just perfect for him, this whole life was better than he’d been prepared for, and it had only been a few months. Could this really last forever?

“For you to wear at the opening,” he hastily added, realizing the opportunity. Her smile glowed, shiny teeth reflecting the fairy lights hung around the living room –because of course she’d demanded he do cool lighting around the house and he was trying some things out.

“I’m going to work on it now.”

“I’m going to unpack those boxes.”

“Which boxes?”

“Boxes,” he said vaguely, and watched her ass as she slid through her curtain, the bracelet sparkling on her wrist.

What if they just turned the second room into a giant gaming and sex room? They could get like a swing and a position pillow and –not like a dungeon, but just a… playground. Would she laugh if he suggested it? Yeah, that was kind of crazy, right? He just didn’t want her to get bored. He was a creature of habit and didn’t mind the same things over and over but she liked variety and he wanted to give her that…

Well, he’d bring it up later. They hadn’t really used props much yet. He hoped that didn’t mean she thought he wasn’t game for whatever she came up with. Ah, ok, next present would need to be something fun like that…

Jungkook startled at Rana’s scream from across the house. His heart leapt into his throat and without a thought he shoved the pan back on the stove, turned the burner off, and raced towards the stairs.

“Rana?!”

“Koo!” she screamed, fleeing down the stairs towards him, phone held out straight in front of her. “Koo, it’s them, it’s the judges–”

“Fuck I thought you stabbed yourself or something–”

The phone was ringing and Rana let out a whine and shook it, like that would make it stop.

“Answer it!” he cried. The phone slipped from her hands and they both grappled with it, managing to catch it wedged perilously between their hands.

“You answer it!” she cried and shoved it roughly against him.

“Yeah fine!” It wasn’t going to ring much longer. He was genuinely worried she’d panic and delete the voicemail and then they’d have to actually call back to find out the results.

He answered the call and pulled it to his ear, “Hello?” but she let out a shriek and wrenched it out of his hand and pressed it to her ear.

“This is Rana Benani, hello.”

She had a death grip on Jungkook’s wrist and he just held his arm out so she could stay anchored there. Her short nails dug into his skin but he stayed still, the stable stick she could perch on as she listened to whatever was being said on the other end of the call. Her volume wasn’t loud enough for him to hear, plus she kept humming a generic answer. “Mm-hm. Mm-hm. Mm-hm.” He stared at her face but couldn’t read a thing from it. Damn her! She was always so expressive, why so neutral now? That scared him. Maybe it was bad news and she was holding it together.

“Ok, thank you.” She ended the call and lowered the phone.

Jungkook pressed his other hand to her waist and just waited, eyes wide as saucers.

“I got it,” she said, more calmly than he had ever heard her about anything.

“You… got it?”

“I got the commission. It’s mine. I get to design the statue and murals for the new Willowbrook Public Library–”

“Why aren’t you yelling?!” he yelled.

“Because I can’t believe it… I got it…”

“Of course you got it!” he yelled for her, and scooped her into his arm and spun circles with her because that’s what she ought to be doing. “I knew it! I knew you’d get it!”

“I got it!”

“You got it, baby!”

“I got it!” she yelled, finally matching his volume, and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and kicking her legs in the air.

“You got it! We got it! You’re making a statue and murals!” he shouted over her scream, relieved to finally know that much. He actually didn’t know anything about what she’d submitted! She’d been so cagey about it!

“I’ve got to call people.”

“Yeah let’s call everyone!” he said. “Let’s have everyone over for dinner! We’ll have a party, ok? I can cook–

“Not tonight–”

“We can do it tomorrow,” he said. “Just our friends.”

“You said we haven’t finished unpacking–”

“Yeah who cares?” he laughed. “This is a big fucking deal!”

“I KNOW!” she squealed. “Ok baby, fuck me to celebrate first though!”

“Huh?” He abruptly stopped moving, craning his neck to see her face even though he was holding her suspended against his body. He thought for sure he’d misheard.

“I can’t believe this! I feel like I’m going to explode! I need to ride this wave out on your dick– I just need to move–”

“Ok, forget I even asked a question,” he said, turning and vaulting up the stairs with her. She laughed and held on tight until he set her down at the top of the stairs, at which point she threw her hands up and ran to the bedroom. He still expected her to throw herself down on the bed and decide she just wanted to talk more about it, because his head was still spinning with pride, he couldn’t imagine how exciting and validating this must be for her. Her biggest commission to date, a permanent exhibit, something people would see every time they went into the library.

When she flopped down on the bed, she did start talking, telling him, “I can go by this week and start speccing out the space for real. I’ll have to update the timeline and make sure my estimates are right on the materials budget. They want it installed by July but I told them I think I can be done by June.” As she said these things though, she shucked her shirt off and shimmied out of her pants, then grabbed him by his t shirt and pulled him down. “They had some feedback on the murals for other things they want me to incorporate if possible, which is cool, so I can do some reworking.”

“Can I see?”

“If I can see you,” she beamed at him, flapping his t shirt. While he pulled it over his head, stil la little stupefied that she’d wanted to go right to this, she hooked her fingers into his sweatpants and boxers and dragged them down. He hated not to already be hard in front of her, but as always, Rana just smiled and cupped his limp dick against her face.

“I love this dick,” she sighed. “I love this day. Isn’t everything just wonderful?”

“Yeah, it’s–” He broke off with a hiss as she molded her pretty lips around the head of his cock.

She popped off and continued, “I mean, I was kind of faking it that I thought I’d actually get it. I didn’t think I would but I thought if I believed I would, maybe it would happen… and I didn’t want you to worry…”

“Mm-hm,” he agreed dumbly as she sucked him back into her mouth and wrapped her hands around his shaft. His brain was conflicted, torn between supporting her in this moment and just letting her do literally whatever she wanted right now.

She popped off again, “But then you gave me that bracelet and it felt like a sign and then they called me… so I don’t have to give the bracelet back!”

“You weren’t going to have to give the bracelet back either way,” he frowned. Quickly he added, “But I knew it would happen. You work so hard and you’re so talented and–” He broke off again at the lewd noise of her slurp. It felt like she pulled his dick out of her mouth hard, like she blew it up like a long clown balloon. He hated that his brain thought of the comparison, but it was there, he couldn’t not think of it that way as it quickly swelled up and slapped against her cheekbone. Her hair stuck to the saliva coating it. “Goddamnit,” he huffed. “This is supposed to be about you right now…”

“Oh, right, did you want to eat me out to congratulate me?” She threw herself backwards and flopped arms and legs out like a starfish. He couldn’t help the laughter. She smiled, which then erupted into giggles and thrashing, kicking hands and feet. “AGH I can’t believe I got it! Now I’ll have this in my portfolio too which makes me more likely to get other jobs… I want to decorate the world with my art! I want to help people see the beauty in the things and people around them! I want to– oh fuck yeah, god,” she sighed as he accidentally interrupted her monlogue with his mouth against her panties. He hadn’t actually thought it would stop her; he looked forward to the challenge of interrupting her by devouring her. But she wasted no time combing her fingers through his hair and rocking her pussy against his face, distracted from what she’d been saying. The fabric was quickly ruined. He folded her legs to rip them off but only got a brief taste of her bare beneath his tongue before she kicked his shoulders back with her feet and ordered,

“All right, over.”

“You don’t want me to–”

“I can’t sit still!” she admitted, standing up, touching her hands to the ceiling for balance. “Come on, Koo, please move faster than this, I’m desperate. My brain feels like it’s going twenty directions at once.”

“Yeah, I’m hurrying!” he complained, stretching out on his back because that seemed to be what she wanted. It was one thing to follow her instructions, it was another for her to step over him, then lower herself right down until she could grab his dick to guide into her, giving him the most beautiful possible view of his cock disappearing right up into her, framed by the most beautiful (and only) ass he’d ever had the pleasure of spanking. She liked it. He liked it too. He did it now, earning a saucy smile over her shoulder as she groaned and wiggled, seating herself deeper and deeper on him until she was flush on his hips, her hands gripping his thighs. No lube, very little foreplay, and her pussy had just swallowed him like that.

“Fucking fuck, Ranaaa,” he whined, pushing and pulling her hips while also trying not to do that so she could adjust to his size. He was more comfortable fucking her than he’d ever been with anyone before, partly because she’d proven she could take it and because she was honest when she didn’t like something, but also because she had no problem taking over if he was going too fast or not nailing her just right. It was hard not to lose himself sometimes. That first tight grip of her warmth around him always left his brain frozen and only cumming could thaw it back to working order.

“I’ll have a budget, which I never do, but there’s still something so pure about sourcing materials without it… but it’s not like I can just keep the rest for us, there’s real strict rules about what goes to me, what goes to materials and all that,” she said, beginning to bounce. The globes of her ass slapping against his lap, rippling from the contact. He groaned and rolled beneath her and squeezed the flesh, but he was erratic and messing up her rhythm.

“Stay still, just let me fuck you this time,” she insisted, reaching behind to slap his chest. He pouted at her, but she was distracted by the twist and depth. “Fuck that’s good,” she sighed. Her outrageously wanton moan reassured him that her chatter about the art project was not from lack of pleasure. Rana could do two things at once like that, he’d learned. He, alas, could not.

Early in their relationship, Rana had asked him tons of questions, trying to understand what sex was like for him. How did it feel? What did he think of? Did it feel different based on what they were doing? He had hated to disappoint her but she’d seen right through his initial attempt to sound profound and adoring, and he’d had to admit his thoughts were simple and not coherent thoughts so much as just waves of pleasure. It was just visual images that got frozen in his mind, her lips around his cock, cheeks hollowed out; her curls stuck to her beautiful face, eyes sparkling; his white cum painted across her soft brown skin. He just had snapshots of sensations. Good. Or warm and snug. Or slippery, soft, warm, so wet, slide so good. Maybe that last one was a thought but not one he wanted to brag about. The relief was that he didn’t have to think with her, he could just enjoy, and never feel bad about that enjoyment.

He didn’t think before he sat up to grab her tits, or flipped her over so he could lick and suck at her nipples and kiss her neck until she squealed and twisted and lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. It wasn’t about thinking. It was about feeling, tasting, touching, savoring. There was so much of Rana to savor. There was so much still to explore. The egg thing and ice cubes were just the beginning and sometimes he got impatient to do everything with her –everything either of them could think of– and he’d have to remind them that they had all the time in the world.

“God, I just want to like…” she trailed off and he immediately pulled away and sat up, shocked out of his brainless enjoyment of her body. She had a request. She sounded frustrated.

“Do you uh… want to stop?” he asked nervously. “We can just talk about your art…”

“Oh fuck no,” she laughed, grabbing his face and kissing him hard enough to remove all doubt. “I just want more…. um…”

She couldn’t possibly mean more dick, and if not, Jungkook wasn’t sure what else, and he was afraid suddenly of disappointing her.

“I’m just having a hard time concentrating,” she admitted, squeezing her own shoulders. It pushed her tits out. Distracting. Jungkook gripped her hips, cock still buried in her but trying to decide whether it should soften. “Make me.”

“Make you… concentrate?”

“Yeah, shut me up about my art.”

“But we’re celebrating your art…”

“Yeah right now I want to celebrate the art that’s your cock so give it to me!” she ordered. Her energy had picked back up. It was the same energy as before but it had shifted, and now her art seemed secondary, and it was all aimed at Jungkook. Finally he topped the leaderboards.

He didn’t know what to do! Panic!

“I uh…”

“Oh my god, you look so scared,” she laughed, taking hold of his face again. “Babe, I just mean fuck me good. You don’t have to get fancy with it.”

“Oh. Ok. I just know you’re really creative and–”

“Just fuck me please. As my reward.”

But he was midstroke in her, his ability to be creative and think of something great was just lost. So he did a thing he had discovered they both liked a lot. He pressed her knees up to her chest so she was tucked into a little ball and rolled her on her side and stretched across her, cock reaching deep as his arms locked around her, keeping her balled up but lifted into his lap. He pressed his face into neck and kissed and nipped as he rocked them both, deep but quick thrusts.

“Fuuuuck,” she wailed into her own knees. “Fuck fuck fuck scramble my fucking eggs, Jungkook–”

“RANA!” His laughter made him stutter and lose the rhythm. It wasn’t fair for her to say something like that when her mewling whines had all but decimated him.

“Stop laughing! I’m serious! Flip me!”

He hated it, that she could make him laugh but also be so fucking sexy at the same time. He pulled out and lifted her up, flipping her onto her front and quickly wrapped around her as he pushed back in. She couldn’t move, could only lie there and take it as he snapped his hips sharply against her, girth warring with the tight grip of her pussy. Her guttural shout into the blanket sent goosebumps up his arms and legs.

He flipped her again, onto her back this time so that her legs were trapped between them, knees between their chests. She was so goddamn flexible, probably from the three to four mornings a week she did yoga at the crack of dawn, because apparently Rana was an earlier bird than he was. She was strong too but couldn’t show that off right now, only her flexibility as Jungkook trapped her tightly beneath him and gripped the back of her head. She could only look at him and stare him down, not the least embarrassed by the filthy words and rhythmic whines rolling from that wide open mouth, begging for his tongue.

“Nnnngg!” she moaned, followed by a high-pitched whimper that had once scared the shit out of him, that he might be actually hurting her. “Fucking fuck fuck don’t stop,” she rushed out in a breath. “Fuck my mouth with your tongue.”

When Rana gave a command, you did it, and Jungkook appreciated it because obviously that’s what he should do now but he was too hung up on her sweaty skin and flushed face and the velvet heat gripping tighter, putting up more resistance to each stroke to have actually done it. He dropped his mouth to hers, tongue sliding in to taste hers, muffling her cries, their bodies as physically joined as they could be. She held his head like she was trying to swallow his tongue.

There was a violence in how hard Jungkook erupted in her. He pushed hard, harder, as the tension in his belly and balls exploded outwards. He ground against her, even though it pressed her legs to the side, soft belly to abs; she bucked against him, whimpering, legs kicking. He gripped her shoulders, trying to pull and push himself deeper, always trying to get deeper, fill her more, feel her more.

The throaty shout from her chest sounded painful. Her hands slapped against his back, trying to find where to grab on his sweaty skin as she bucked and twisted and slid beneath his weight, her body taking orgasm hard.

“Ah, you like when I fill you up,” he murmured, kissing her neck through her hair, shoving it out of the way so he could latch onto that part that made her squeal. It worked; she twitched with her whole body and whined, no longer Rana in charge as her walls pulsed around him. “Hm? Is that what made you cum?” He licked the sweat eagerly from her neck. “You take a big dick and a big load from me so good…”

There, that was it. Right after orgasm was the only time he felt brave enough to say the filthy things he wanted to her, and the only time she was too silenced to respond. The breathiness and quietness of her voice made it impossible for him to understand what she said back. He was getting braver with her every week.

They collapsed next to each other, sweaty and satiated. Jungkook looked her over to make sure he’d done a good job, but Rana was all smiles and soft kisses across his face, even though they were supposed to be celebrating her. He could barely move, as drained of fluid as he was. And happy. Her happiness made him exuberant. He closed his eyes as she shuffled around; he assumed to go pee or get comfortably unstuck from him because they were very sweaty. But a moment later, he twitched as her hand brushed his dick.

“Eh?” he grunted, eyes opening quickly.

She froze, her hands lined up next to his dick which was still pretty hard and being slow to come down. She looked way too suspicious for him to ignore.

“What are you doing?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

“Just…”

“Rana…”

“Studying. For art inspirat–”

“Do not make art about my dick.”

“Ok I was just curious about the size, to be honest… really you should be proud of me I’ve waited this long! I didn’t want to make a big deal about it back when you were so shy about it. You seem to be over that now, but I didn’t want you to think your massive cock was the only reason I was into you.”

“Yeah, it’s my cooking.”

“Hm…”

“And because I keep the house clean.”

“I clean the house too!”

“You know penguins are stereotyped as having small dicks,” he said, knowing she knew that. “Penguin women prefer it. It’s a sign of virility or something. Allegedly.”

“Doesn’t matter to me, I don’t have an oven for all that batter anyway.”

“Wow. That’s… graphic.”

“No, your massive cock in sweatpants is graphic.”

“Every woman who’s seen me naked before you was uh… horrified.”

“How? I mean, not to brag, but this is an objectively beautiful dick.”

He pushed up onto his elbows and asked, “How is that a brag for you?”

“Um, because it’s mine now.”

“It’s literally attached to me.”

“Well sometimes it’s literally in me,” she quipped. “I take it, so it’s mine now.” He laughed at that. Her word acrobatics didn’t totally make sense, but it was funny and anyway, he was just glad she liked it all right. “So your big dick comes from being a song sparrow, huh?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. It could be, or the stereotype could just not be true. But could be the song sparrow thing…” He was pretending not to have obsessively looked it up when he was younger and kept growing and growing. Actual song sparrows were indeed known for being large.

“They’re a tiny bird.”

“Yeah but heat makes the males get bigger. Their balls, I think.”

“Oh.” She glanced down at him, softer but still stretched across this thigh. How many years had he spent hating that part of him? Desperately wishing he could make it smaller? How many dates had he gone on, terrified of the response when clothes came off? And now Rana claimed it was hers. Objectively beautiful, from his artist girlfriend. Who, granted, saw beauty in trash but… she didn’t look at him like he was trash, ever. She looked at his cock so fondly, even when he was hard. Sometimes when they watched TV, she just slid her hand into his pants and gripped it. She claimed it was comfort, not foreplay, though so far it had always resulted in sex.

“Well lots of things make you big,” she added with that toothy smile. “Should have known you were a songbird, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

“And you sing so pretty when we fuck.”

“I don’t sing,” he glared. “I mean, not when we–”

“All those little gasps and sighs and whines… best music I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey let’s talk about you. Your art exhibit–”

“Oh yeah!” she gasped, sitting up higher. “I need to call people!” Without missing a beat, she leaned off the bed to dig her phone out of her discarded pants. It was too good; Jungkook couldn’t resist quickly leaning forward and pressing his face in between those glorious ass cheeks that had bounced so prettily on his cock earlier. He avoided his own cum drying on her pussy; tasting himself, not really his thing. Yet. Maybe Rana would convince him that was hot someday too. She was the kind of woman who could convince you of just about anything.

“Hey, careful, I’m sensitive,” she whined but stayed put.

“Maybe we should fuck again before you call people,” he suggested. “You can’t call Seokjin naked anyway.”

“I wasn’t going to–”

“Hey, what do you think of anal beads?”

“For you or me?”

“Obviously you—”

“Hm, no wait, I think we’re onto something for you–”

“No no I just meant–”

She turned and rolled over him and Jungkook forgot all about it. Just like he’d forgotten all about dinner. Just like he’d forgotten all about anything else he was supposed to remember today. What did it matter? Rana got the exhibit and it was his job to reward her. As her boyfriend!

He squeezed her ass and rubber her across his lap and maybe he didn’t totally forget about the anal beads idea… for someday… for her!

“Are you proud of me?” she suddenly asked, hand wrapped around his dick. “For my art thing, I mean? It means I’m a real artist.”

He was warmed from the inside out by the knowledge she cared what he thought like that –he who didn’t know art from a cracked shell– but answered with all seriousness despite her grip on him, “You were always a real artist. Your strings were the first cool thing I knew about you. But yeah, I’m really fucking proud. Maybe I’ll put up a billboard once we know when the opening is–”

“No but… but the art is literally the display… like it’s already a thing to look at–”

“Yeah but it’s not in the lobby at work–”

“Don’t you dare–”

“I’m an artist too, you know!”

“No, you’re a work of art. Ugh I wish there was a way to see your ass when you fuck me.”

“Mirrors,” he quickly said, and pointed to the wall. She grinned bigger and pointed at the ceiling.

“Mirrors,” she agreed and giggled and spread her legs for him and tossed her phone away. It was a very good day for them both.

Jungkook’s hand slid slowly up Rana’s calves stretched across his lap on the sofa. Slowly at first, so he could feel every sharp prickle of hair, then faster because the sensation felt good on the flesh of his palm, then slower again.

“Stop playing with my leg hair!” Rana finally huffed, curling her legs away and shoving at his hands.

“No, I like it,” he whined and grabbed her ankles to drag them back. “It feels nice…”

“Why don’t you think my leg hair feels nice?” Naia asked Taehyung playfully.

“Because I don’t love you,” he returned with an equally cheeky grin. Naia laughed and backhanded him in the stomach. Jungkook did not understand how they could be so casual about just being fuck buddies. He’d be fucking crushed if Rana said something like that to him, even joking. But maybe that was because he did love her, and he spent his days splashing in the current of her love now. To be even playfully kicked from that… it made him shudder, skin prickling icy cold. He didn’t even want to think about it. Sinking slow, alone, down into the inky black depths–

He’d started stroking her legs again though, and she let out a strangled noise of complaint and pinched his cheek.

“Stooooop, Pingu. I can’t believe this…”

“Let him explore,” Taehyung insisted. “He’s never been around a woman long enough for her to stop shaving her legs.”

“Actually I wax. I like the pain,” Rana smiled at him. Nope, Jungkook didn’t like that. He didn’t even hide it; just pressed his whole hand over Rana’s face and pulled her back against his arm. Which they had clearly expected because all three of them laughed, and Namjoon laughed where he stood in the kitchen with Yoongi, trying to work a stubborn bottle of wine open between the two of them.

The flash of possessiveness was enough of a distraction from what Taehyung had correctly but unnecessarily stated: he hadn’t ever gotten to play with a woman’s stubbly legs before. He liked it. He liked it a lot. He liked this better than when they were smooth, and he wasn’t sure whether admitting that to Rana would encourage her to grow the hair out or if she’d just squirm and kick at him and make a point of not letting the hair get like this again.

Of course part of the circumstance leading to this was that the weather was warmer. Not quite warm, but warm enough to constantly dress wrong. Rana had worn a little romper thing that she had to take off or drag to the side to pee in, and risk pissing on her fingers; of course this had been the first question Jungkook asked when she’d come downstairs in it that morning. But it was chilly, so she’d pulled on one of his plaid shirts over it, even though the plaid clashed with the checkered pattern. And then they’d spontaneously invited friends over for dinner and now he was regretting that because the scratch of her leg hair against his wrist was making him hard. She’d recently waxed her pussy too; would that get prickly like this? He wanted to lick it…

Rana noticed. She quirked an eyebrow at him and kissed his neck, then turned on the couch, which yanked her legs away again. Regretfully leaving his lap exposed. He shifted and grabbed one of the twenty pillows thrown around the living room.

At least he could see her nice round ass now, as she turned to say towards the kitchen, “It’s a shame your girl couldn’t come, Yoongi.”

“Eh… yeah… she’s not quite comfortable yet…”

“I understand, but we’ll do anything to help, so let us know!”

“Yeah, we’re a welcoming group,” Taehyung agreed, both he and Jungkook turning as Seokjin came down the stairs. He’d needed to use the toilet and he didn’t like the downstairs one. Claimed it was too small. He was a weird particular guy and Jungkook wasn’t at all surprised Rana kept him after dropping pretty much everything from her old life, even if he wasn’t thrilled about it.

Of course it didn’t help that Jungkook had actually once interrupted them on a date. It was a date, Rana had confirmed. A favor date, because she’d lost a bet with Seokjin’s sister; apparently Seokjin’s whole family loved Rana and wished they would marry. GREAT. Just what Jungkook had wanted to hear. He’d sulked for days after learning this last week but Rana had kissed him into a puddle and the truth was, he believed her when she said it was unimportant to her, that she didn’t live to please anyone except herself and Jungkook, and that there was nothing romantic ever between her and Seokjin.

Jungkook believed that was true about her side at least. But he still watched Seokjin, whose gaze always seemed to find Rana first when he entered a room. Jungkook slid his hand across Rana’s ass, caressing, so he’d see that too.

Rana knew what he was doing and why. He could tell because suddenly a glass egg was slipped into his hand.

“Needing some comfort, babe?” she whispered, taunting.

“I don’t need that anymore. I’ve got a better comfort object now–”

Naia’s head tilted, obviously listening to all this, and she laughed, “Where did you even pull that from, Rana?”

“Don’t ask her that, Jungkook will attack,” Taehyung joked.

“I give up on this wine,” Namjoon announced, settling the bottle angrily on the counter. “We’re going to have to break the bottle.”

“No we aren’t,” Seokjin cried, diving forward. “I’ll do it. Let me do it.”

Yoongi at least confirmed, “It’s really stuck in there.”

“There’s an art to it…”

“There’s an art to fast hands too,” Rana told Naia. “But I only use my powers for good now. For my art and for picking Jungkook’s–”

“Gross,” Taehyung interrupted, face scrunched up.

A cheer from the kitchen made them all look as Seokjin successfully removed the cork. He smiled and bobbed his head but looked mortified when the applause started and quickly set the bottle down like it was going to explode on him. He bumped against the counter in his haste to back away, raising a hand, as if he could disappear from the spotlight.

“Shy pigeon!” Rana shouted at him. He flipped her the bird and she laughed. Jungkook shoved the egg down the front of Rana’s romper to remind her he was there, just in case she forgot.

She laughed and tweaked his nose, “Noot noot, you’re a hoot.”

With a success under their belt now, Yoongi made Seokjin open another while Namjoon poured the first –until Seokjin stopped him like it was a crisis and showed him how to do it properly. Within a few minutes they were all lounged comfortably on the mismatched collection of comfy chairs and the overstuffed velvet sofa Rana had collected for the living room. The room was warm and cozy and nothing at all like Jungkook’s usual style but it made him puff up with pride to see his friends and Seokjin lounging around so comfortably in his space. Anyway, the kitchen was sleek and organized and Rana was adhering (mostly) to his methods there, and she had even been happy about the organization containers he bought for the bathrooms so things had a home. The whole house was a fusion of them, a home, and he loved it and loved showing it off to his friends and Seokjin.

“We are some classy motherfuckers right now,” Namjoon announced, looking around the circle. It was exactly what classy motherfuckers would not say, but Jungkook decided not to point it out and shatter the illusion.

“You give him a wine glass and he thinks he’s old money,” Yoongi snickered.

“We need a private sommelier,” Seokjin argued.

Taehyung suggested, “The living room needs one of those globes that doubles as a liquor cabinet. You know? That’s classy.”

“Ooh, I know those! They’re expensive though,” Naia mused.

Jungkook just watched his friends, watched Rana, felt warmed by the comfortable presence of his friends and the mouth-watering scent of tagine slow-cooking in the kitchen. The whole house constantly smelled like Moroccan food –exactly what Rana’s former roommates complained about, but Jungkook loved it. Major bonus to living with a Moroccan woman. He could already see the association forming of cumin and cinnamon and turmeric with home. Hell, he was already there. Rana was home. His friends were here in his home, drinking and chatting over the whisper of music from the speakers he’d set up throughout the house.

“What are you humming?” Yoongi asked, the question cutting through whatever topic they’d moved onto.

Jungkook hadn’t even realized he was humming anything. It just happened all the time these days, the music in his head sneaking out of his chest because his bones couldn’t contain all the joy.

“Ah, nothing, just something… I don’t know.”

“Sing it for us,” Taehyung encouraged. He nudged Naia with his toe and Jungkook wondered if that meant something.

Jungkook blushed and waved his hand. With Rana’s support, Jungkook had finally come out to his friends as mixed, as partial song sparrow. Perhaps he should have expected that literally no one gave a flying fuck. Taehyung had just slapped his chest and laughed that that explained why he wasn’t penguin-shaped, and Yoongi had made him blush by wondering if that was why he had such an ear for music. Namjoon had looked up that song birds used their songs for aggression and convinced them all to go to karaoke and then laughed when all Jungkook would sing were ballads –while Rana watched him with the most obvious heart eyes he had ever seen, aimed at him.

Fuck he loved her so much. He brushed his hand against her arm, then pushed her hair up so he could rest it on the back of her neck. The body heat accumulated there and he wished he could kiss her there but was happy at least when she let her knees flop so that one stretched across his lap. He resisted the urge to play with her leg hair again. Fuck, he was just so comfortable and happy and nothing could ruin this right now.

His phone rang.

It was his mother.

Well that could definitely ruin his mood.

“It’s my mom,” he mumbled when Rana leaned closer to see. In answering, he realized more loudly, “Oh shit. It’s the Holiday.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You forgot?” Taehyung cried, then hit the arm of his chair laughing so hard. “You spent your whole fucking life focused on that and–”

“I bought tickets this year,” he laughed, shaking his head at the absurdity. He rejected the call. “I forgot all about it… a little preoccupied.”

“Wait, your town still does the holiday?” Naia asked. “My hometown stopped that a long time ago. It’s so… archaic.”

“Ooh, big word,” Taehyung whisper-teased her.

“I always thought it was weird too – there’s one in my hometown, but they try to pretend it’s just like a big Valentine’s Day,” Namjoon said.

Jungkook nodded, “That’s what it’s like for us but… ah, it’s there, you know? I used to get dragged around to all the baby showers nine months later. All the winter stuff, like billboards or whatever, is big pregnant women in puffy coats. Penguin dreams.”

“Look at this! So much growth, he even mocks it now,” Yoongi mused.

“Yeah it’s good to be free of that. I see how weird it is now… like everyone wants a baby at the same time just to succeed, not because they even really want the baby.” He turned to Rana to catch her laugh but trailed off because she wasn’t laughing.

“But you wanted to go this year?” she said with what was an unusually obvious attempt to be cool. Usually Rana was cool. But it was obvious she didn’t totally feel it right now. “You bought tickets? I didn’t know…”

“No no, not to take you,” he assured her.

Oops.

At the strangled noises from multiple friends, Jungkook sat up and hurried to explain, “It was– I was being optimistic back before Christmas. I didn’t have anyone to take–”

“Well, Marisol.”

“No,” he insisted. “I wasn’t going to take her. Just some… dream girl.”

“Ok.” Her lips went into a line. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to go…”

The silent tension in the room was deafening. Jungkook felt the thin ice creaking beneath his feet and everyone watching to see if he’d plunge into the inky frozen water.

Brightly he continued, “Yeah, it’s a relief! I got the dream girl and this dinner is way better. I would never subject you to the holiday because I don’t hate you.”

He saw the faintest smile as she asked, “Why, would they hate me?” It was a fake smile. Unreliable. Not weight-bearing.

“Well you aren’t a full penguin, so…” Naia grimaced. “Penguins are cliquey.”

“Yeah, thank fuck you saved Jungkook from the penguin cult,” Yoongi added.

Jungkook nodded eagerly, “Trust me. That was old dumb Jungkook. That was back when I was just confused about how I felt about you so I was… you know… clinging to old stupid ideas. Stuck in my shell, right?”

“You told me before your mom and stepdad are really active–”

“Yeah, it’s my mom at her absolute worst,” Jungkook said in all seriousness. “Maybe I’ll introduce you to her someday, if I trust she’s going to behave herself.” It was not the first time he’d thought about how his parents would react to Rana. He did not think it would go well. And if there was anything he’d learned about himself the last few months, it was that he wouldn’t tolerate anyone mistreating her. He’d snap. His parents would cry. Rana might feel like it was her fault, and he couldn’t risk that.

“Is she calling again?” Namjoon asked, gesturing to Jungkook’s phone buzzing again in his lap. He looked down at the phone he had now silenced twice. A third call.

“Probably wondering where the fuck I am,” he admitted. “I… may have fed her a big story about how I’d be there and all that…” He trailed off, not wanting to admit the details to his friends, and definitely not to Rana if this was hurting her feelings. He heaved a deep sigh, “I guess I should answer this…”

“Answer it here!”

Jungkook did, but had no plans of staying. He just wanted his mom to see that he wasn’t sitting home alone, and greeted her Facetime call (she was serious if she was Facetiming him), with, “Hey Mom.”

“Hi Mom!” Taehyung called in the background, waving. Several of his other friends waved too as Jungkook quickly stood.

“Oh! Taheyung! How are you–”

“Why are you calling, Mom?” Jungkook interrupted, waving Taehyung back and bounding up the stairs for privacy. His mom loved Taehyung (“for someone who isn’t a penguin…”) but he didn’t need to be quizzed on what everyone else was right in front of them. And a mixed-blood Gentoo penguin, the horror!

“Where are you? You’re supposed to be here but you never sent me your flight info. I’m confused, are you and Taehyung staying with a friend here?”

“Oh. No. I’m not there, Mom. I’m… here. I’m in my house.”

“Your house? You moved?”

“Yeah like a month ago.” He left it at that, didn’t even give her a pointed look about not knowing, because they hadn’t talked since before then. It was actually longer than a month. He hadn’t called or messaged her and she hadn’t called or messaged him. He hadn’t missed her yet. He hadn’t thought of her. He had actually truly forgotten about the holiday, something he wouldn’t have expected in a million years. He had literally deleted emails without even registering it was a thing he had signed up for and told his mom he’d be at.

“I don’t understand. This is just like you, but I don’t understand why you even bothered to tell me you were coming,” she started in. He sighed and sat heavily on the foot of the bed. “You paid the registration fee! I have you– I had plans to– you can’t be serious right now. You aren’t even coming?”

“I’m not coming, Mom.”

“I should have known. Why. Why did I believe you were going to be different this time? I made all these plans–”

“I told you not to–”

“I knew you were lying about having a girlfriend but I talked to your father–”

“Stepfather,” he mumbled.

“And he convinced me to believe you this time. ‘Give the boy a chance,’ he said! So I took you for your word and now you’re telling me you aren’t even coming! The opening festival is tomorrow and–”

“Well you didn’t confirm with me anyway! It’s not like I told you one thing on purpose and then did something else, I just forgot all about it.”

“Forgot! You forgot! How did you forget?! As the mayor, it’s incredibly important for me to –you know I’m going to run for governor. Do you know that? Do you even care? This would have been such a good moment for us to heal as a family and for me to meet this young woman who you– but there is no woman! My son is a liar!”

“Mom, I–”

“I can’t believe I trusted you–”

“Mom,” he said again, looking up as Rana leaned in the doorway. He flushed with embarrassment. She’d probably heard all of this. He’d told her enough about his mom for her to know this wasn’t going to be a good conversation. Maybe that was why he had followed him, to offer silent support. He appreciated so much seeing her there, a reminder of why he’d forgotten: because he was fucking happy. Because he didn’t care about whether his family approved of the choices he was making. Because he didn’t feel the need to perform for his mother’s campaign, or dive through hoops to impress people who would never be impressed, or, even worse, subject Rana to people who would dislike her just because she wasn’t a penguin.

“This is the last straw, Jungkook. I just don’t know what to do with you. I’ve tried to be so tolerant with you moving away and never coming to visit and doing who knows what, but to give me hope and then break my heart like this–”

“Hello,” Rana said, plopping down on the bed beside him. He’d watched her move and been frozen, incapable of stopping her. She took his arm and leaned her head against his. “I’m Rana, Jungkook’s mate.”

Heat shot across Jungkook’s chest and up his neck and through his cheeks. Jungkook’s mate. He immediately slid his arm around Rana’s waist, forgetting to even look at his mother’s initial reaction.

“I– you’re who? Rana?”

“She’s not a penguin,” he told his mom now, feeling bolstered. “Not even a little.”

“What are you–”

“My mate,” he repeated. “Nothing more than that matters. And I’m sorry I forgot to tell you I wasn’t coming to the holiday. I’m just so happy and busy these days, I forgot.” His mom looked flabbergasted. Baffled. Stunned, and he suspected it was because his mom hadn’t expected him to meet someone but especially not someone as beautiful as Rana.

“You’re happy! But wait, you– you’re really together–?”

“Of course we are, Mrs. Jeon. He’s an incredible man. The best one I’ve ever met,” Rana said.

“What did you say your last name is–”

“It doesn’t matter, Mom.” Would his mom die to know Rana actually came from a wealthy, prestigious family? Possibly. But she didn’t deserve to know that, and Rana didn’t want that connection, so it would just be a secret irony that only the two of them knew. Bennani was her maternal grandmother’s last name, still a prestigious family in Morocco but not the internationally established one. “I didn’t lie to you about having someone, but I’m not bringing her to a penguin mating festival. We don’t belong there.”

“Well, I– I’m just…” She couldn’t even figure out what to say! Jungkook felt a swell of excitement. No, he hadn’t gotten to march down to the center of ceremonies with his penguin bride. But he did get to be happy every single day with Rana and watch his mother now try to process the fact that her imperfect son had found someone who loved him anyway. A wonderful someone.

“We have friends over right now so I’m going to go,” Jungkook said as Rana’s hand squeezed his knee in comfort.

“Is it serious? Between you two? If it is, I just think you should come home so we can properly meet–”

“It is serious,” Jungkook said. “I don’t know if I’ll bring her home. We’ll see.”

“Yes, all right, but not for this holiday. All right, I understand. Rana, dear, what are your favorite kind of flowers? I’ll send flowers– I didn’t realize you had… you moved in together?”

“Yes, Mom, we bought a house together. I’m not moving back.”

Rana’s mouth twisted in thought as he spoke before answering, “Yellow.”

“Oh but what kind of yellow flowers?”

Rana shrugged, “I don’t really know the names, just pretty yellow ones.”

“Oh. Ok, uh–”

“We’ve got to go, Mom. Bye. Good luck with the holiday and all the festivities and stuff.”

“Yes… all right… call me when you have a moment–”

He ended the call accidentally while she was mid sentence. Oops. But he’d been in a hurry to put it down so he could twist and take hold of Rana’s face and kiss her soundly.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, was it ok?” she laughed nervously. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to stay hidden, I just got so mad…”

“Mad? Why?”

“Because I know she’s not nice to you. She’s made you feel not good enough and I could hear it in your voice– you don’t need a girlfriend to validate how amazing and worthy and wonderful you are but–”

“Rana,” he grinned, and pressed his forehead to hers. “I don’t feel bad like that anymore.”

“Anymore.”

“I just don’t want her to say anything bad about you or for you to have to deal with her… I don’t think I’ll take you home…” He thought about it now, torn. He did want to take her home and he didn’t. He wanted to show her off but he didn’t ever want to reach for his parents’ approval again in case it didn’t come.

She shrugged, “It’s up to you. If it’s important to you, I’ll go.”

“I don’t know… do you think I’m just weak for not cutting her off like you did?”

“I would never think that. Every situation is different and only you can decide what you want. I’ll support you either way, no matter what. But I might say something if it looks like you’re just letting her walk all over you and hurt you…”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her close as he conceded, “Yeah ok. That’s fair. You know, it’s kind of nice that we didn’t even miss it because something else came up. I just forgot. It wasn’t important to me. I can’t believe I forgot!”

“Do you regret not going?”

“Nope,” he smiled at her. “This is way more fun. And the food is going to be better too. Do you think it’ll be done soon?” He pushed up from the bed, unwilling to let his mom take up even one more minute of his time. She had done enough. He was done living to please her, and done hating himself because he couldn’t, and done worrying whether he could ever be enough for anyone. He was enough for Rana. He was enough for his friends. He was enough for himself now, this better version of himself on the road to being his best self of all.

Rana started to escape but he caught her around the waist to pull her in for one more kiss, before marching her down the stairs, admitting with a gleeful grin, “You’re way prettier than she thought I’d end up with.”

“That’s insane, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Not to a penguin–”

“Yeah because penguins have boring taste. I mean, even your own mom married someone who wasn’t a full penguin so…”

“I never thought about it like that!” he laughed.

“So what’s the verdict?” Taehyung called. “Are we all going to the holiday?”

“Yeah, let’s load up. We’re all going.”

Seokjin tapped his chin, “You know I’ve never been to that kind of holiday. I wonder if I’d meet someone–”

“The women would love you,” Jungkook insisted, only to ‘oomph’ as Rana back-handed him in the stomach and glared. Seokjin didn’t notice any of it, laughing instead with Namjoon who suddenly was taking to this idea that they could just waltz into his traditional penguin holiday and pick up chicks. Women. That word meant something very different if you were talking about a penguin town…

“Hey the food smells done to me,” Taehyung said as they sat.

Yoongi immediately laughed, “You don’t know anything about it.”

“I know that I’m hungry and it smells fucking good.”

“It’s really important to let it slow cook as long as it needs so the meats and vegetables have time to soak up all the juices,” Seokjin began and Jungkook swallowed the grumble in his chest. So what if Seokjin knew more about Moroccan food? He ate way more Moroccan pussy –well, specifically Rana pussy. He was an expert at soaking up Rana juices.

Rana’s eyes narrowed at him and she pinched the side of his neck, whispering, “I can tell when you’re thinking dirty things, you know.”

“No you can’t!”

“I’ll check the food. I think we need more wine.”

“I want to see,” Yoongi offered, standing too.

“Yeah, me too!”

“I just want to eat it?” Taehyung raised his hand.

“The food,” Jungkook clarified.

“What… else would I be talking about?” Taehyung asked, giving him a quizzical look.

“NO, right, yeah…”

Even if the laughter was at his expense, Jungkook was happy, so happy that even a call from his mom was barely a blip on his day. Anyway, he could still do the sex part of the holiday with Rana later, after everyone left. All the sex with his mate, none of the bad feelings… yeah. This was way better.

Mate. Mate. His girlfriend, his mate, the woman he lived with. Romantically.

Fucking cool.

Rana was so difficult to make angry that it always stunned Jungkook when she got there. Sure, there were some obvious quick triggers, like a man yelling at a woman (or her!), or someone picking on someone smaller (god help the boy who’d tossed his little brother’s doll into a fountain in front of Rana once), or when people left meat or dairy products on grocery store shelves instead of putting them back properly –those things made her yelly.

Or there was this scarier type of angry Rana where she in fact did not get yelly and you kind of wished she would, because that was less threatening than the way she’d repeatedly flex her fingers like she might be going to rip your esophagus out in one jab. Not Jungkook’s! No, she’d never been angry at him like that. But he saw it sometimes when he talked about things his mom had said that had hurt him, or if someone started talking about capitalism and wealth hoarding and unequal wealth distributions and– Things like that. It wasn’t like Jungkook didn’t get angry about those things, but he’d been raised to keep quiet about anything not politically correct, and with a very conservative definition of what politically correct meant. He’d been raised to swallow his anger and let it solidify into a lonely, heavy stone in his belly. He felt like he’d come so far in speaking out about things he felt strongly about since moving away from home, but being with Rana had helped him step fully from those eggshell remnants and embrace his anger at so much injustice. Like specism! Who fucking cared what species you were?!

The Rana he saw right now was somewhere in between. He watched her fly around the front atrium of the public library with a speed and sharpness that was all wrong if she’d been just excited or even nervous. Her dress was kind of tight around her legs, so it limited her gate, which was sort of funny. She had a bright patterned shawl around her arms and shoulders –very artiste, Jungkook thought, except that the speed it was whipping around might actually cause bodily harm to the families flocking through. Kids were little and defenseless! Rana was completely oblivious to them in her stalking.

“Ah… I’ll be right back,” he said to their assorted friends mingling –where else– by the snack table. There was a horde of children too but Namjoon had pointed out he could reach right over the kids to grab food. Taehyung had just walked right behind the table and pretended he worked there. Yoongi’s girlfriend watched them all with amusement, quietly eating whatever Yoongi handed her. They were cute. Jungkook loved getting to feel paternal about a friend’s relationship because he’d been in one slightly longer.

Jungkook placed himself in Rana’s flight path just as she stepped away from a hushed but unhappy conversation with one of the organizers. He knew better than to just grab her, but he stepped into her path and immediately she alighted, her hands on his arms, fingers clenching.

“What’s up?” he asked, trying to sound casual but available.

“They broke the light bulbs,” she hissed. “They didn’t tell me! So it’s putting the wrong light on the globe –just the two there, do you see?!” She gestured with one hand while her other hand dug tighter into his arm. Jungkook looked and did see, immediately. They’d used the wrong hue, so while most of the bulbs cast a bright neutral white color at the massive swirly glass globe in the center of the atrium, two were projecting a mushy, aged yellow. He couldn’t help it; he grimaced. He hadn’t seen it from the other side but from here, it was obvious.

“See?!” she yelled. “You see it!”

“Yeah but you know… I notice that kind of thing…”

“They don’t see the big deal! It’s the grand unveiling!” she hiss-whispered. Ooh, she was real mad. And he got it. She’d worked for months on this thing, first with the whole proposal and design in the winter, and then all spring and into the summer with multiple craftsmen needed to bring her vision to life. The colors needed to be right, especially for today.

“I can fix this,” he realized, heart leaping in his chest. He grabbed her arms and gave her a bright smile. “Just don’t let them arrest me for defacing the exhibit–”

“What?!”

He ran to the light switch in the corner he knew controlled the spotlights on the statue and flicked it off. There was an actual gasp at the statue suddenly going dark. Jungkook ignored it and ran forward to quickly unscrew the two offensive bulbs. They were hot and he tossed them into the front of his shirt, even though it meant tugging the short-sleeved button up out of his pants. Damn, the pads of his fingers were burnt.

“Hey! What are you–”

Jungkook ignored whoever called to him. Was this the high Rana used to feel when she lifted things too?! Ok, he kind of got it now…

He ran off, up the stairs where her murals lining the first floor continued around the second as well. At the far corner, he dropped to his knees and unscrewed two bulbs from a wall-mounted rig doing the important but not as important job of lighting a couple of plaques talking about how important the library was or whatever. Who cared. Not as important as Rana’s artwork.

Lightbulbs traded, he scurried back downstairs to see Rana waiting by the lightswitch. He worked as fast as he could to get the bulbs in, then stepped back and gave her a thumb’s up.

Lights went on, the perfect ring of white lights focused on her sculpture.

He let out a sigh of relief as she crashed onto him, arms locking around his body.

“Thank you. Thank you, I didn’t even think about that–”

“Yeah, that’s my job. I’m here to think for you.”

“I was just so mad they would do that and not mention it to me. I could have brought more bulbs!! Now I have to give them a whole stock of them so they don’t do anything so stupid ever–”

She was still worked up, and there were small children around, ears perked because a grown up said someone was stupid.

Jungkook took one of her hands in his, then slid her other hand into the pocket of his slacks. There was no egg there these days, but Rana could choose from a mesh pouch with a marble inside, a squishy star, a small porcupine ball, or–

“What is that?!” she gasped in horror, but did not pull her hand out.

“Sticky hand.”

“Oh my god, that’s in your pocket? It feels so gross!” she complained as her fingers clearly pinched and twisted it.

He leaned in close and whispered, “It’s probably all linty… but it glows in the dark… I’ve got more at home…”

“I have never loved you more,” she whispered back, and brushed her nose against his. Then turned as one of the organizers approached, sticky hand balled up in her clenched fist. She glanced over her shoulder at him again though, grinning, and he was glad he’d remembered to pack his pocket. The unveiling of her artwork had seemed like something that could make her restless, so he’d come prepared.

A hand clapped on his shoulder as Taehyung draped his arm across and asked, “So uh… whatcha got in your pocket?”

Jungkook leveled a cool, challenging grin to him.

“Wanna find out?”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. Stubbornly, he thrust his hand into the other pocket, only to cry out and yank his hand away.

“What is that?!”

“What are you guys doing?” Seokjin whispered. He adjusted his glasses and looked down at Jungkook and Taehyung. “Maybe hands should stay out of pockets… this is a nice time to celebrate Rana–”

“No, dude, there’s something weird in his pocket,” Taehyung laughed, motioning Namjoon over. Namjoon made a face and leaned away, but Chad dove around him.

“I’m not scared,” he scoffed, and shoved his hand in, only to make an actual retching noise and pull his hand out. “What the…. Is that a dead thing?!”

Steven recoiled behind Chad, but Jungkook felt laughter bubble up as for the first time all night, Yannick drew close to them.

“Of course I don’t have a dead thing in my pocket!” Jungkook snorted through his nose.

“In your pocket?” Yannick asked, slowly, curiously. “You have something of interest? Or it’s only an adolescent prank… Maybe pudding?”

Jungkook couldn’t help the laughter any more than the others, because Yannick was dead serious.

He assured him, “I don’t have a pocket full of pudding! Is that your idea of a prank?!” This guy. This guy was the weirdest fucker Jungkook had ever met and because of that, he could finally understand why Rana was so fond of him and invited him over to their place for breakfast sometimes. Jungkook never felt more normal than around Yannick.

“Guys, we’re at an art gala…” Yoongi mumbled.

“Where they serve Girl Scout cookies.”

“Rana insisted on that,” Jungkook quickly said. “It benefits a local troop in a uh… lower income neighborhood,” he whispered, not wanting any of the little girls to overhear and think that meant anything about them.

“Also Girl Scout cookies are wonderful,” Yoongi’s girlfriend said.

“Overrated,” Yoongi said to her, already smiling like he expected this would be an argument.

His girlfriend promptly shoved a cookie in his mouth, and he choked on it laughing.

“That’s one way to win an argument,” Namjoon snickered.

“It’s the only way to win an argument with him.”

“She’s wise,” Taehyung grinned. “Ok but seriously…”

Jungkook sighed at having to confess but pulled the sticky frogs out, though he had to untangle them before they looked like frogs. It’s not like he could predict which pocket Rana would reach into! Besides, it was kind of fun when he packed surprises in his pockets like this; carrying something around to comfort her was his new comfort. Although it sucked if he forgot; he’d sent a container of slime through the wash last week and ruined two shirts.

“Why are your pockets full of toys–”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to,” Seokjin suddenly suggested, waving his hand. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed. What did that mean? Why did Seokjin jump in so fast?!

“Do you want one?” Jungkook asked him, holding a frog out, not sure what else to say or do.

“Oh!” Seokjin looked down at his open hand, then suddenly smiled and took the red one. “Thank you! I love frogs–”

“OK, everything is ok now,” Rana announced, suddenly leaping into the circle. “Oh! Yannick, I didn’t realize you were here!”

“I was there,” he said, pointing to a corner beside a temporary display. Of Edgar Allen Poe. Again with the–

“He’s a treepie,” Jungkook quickly said as Steven opened his mouth. He just knew what that guy was about to say, he could read it on his face. “Not that it matters,” he quickly added.

Yannick nodded, “Yes, anyone may have a fond and scholarly respect for Poe’s work.”

“Yeah the library went all in on the corvid angle,” Rana nodded. Her curls bounced with the right kind of energy now. Her smile grew as she looked around and saw their collection of friends. No Naia, but both of Namjoon’s sisters were there, walking slowly up the stairs to study the murals. Steven and Chad had worn polos and khakis for the event, clearly flattered when Rana invited them –Jungkook would never not be stunned at how better behaved they were for Rana than they ever were, even for Yoongi. Yoongi had his hands on his girlfriend’s hips, reading over her shoulder at the tall poem Rana had painted by the front door.

“It looks cool,” Steven told her, a dumb but also a very accurate comment.

“It’s beautiful work,” Seokjin readily agreed.

“Can you tell us more about the meaning?” Namjoon asked, lips pursed in that way that meant he was curious and thoughtful and not wanting to speak out of turn.

“It reminds me of Jungkook’s egg,” Taehyung said as all eyes turned to the center statue and the art that wrapped on the walls of the atrium, surrounding them as if they stood now in the center of a great egg, the shell of which were Rana’s murals and then bricks and books. The globe then was the yolk. Jungkook felt it too.

Jungkook worried she’d find the observation offensive, but Rana actually looked thrilled as she agreed, “It was a little inspirational. Doesn’t it feel like we’re in the middle of a big egg right now? This is the yolk and we’re surrounded by a shell of my paintings and books and bricks. Inside this library we can be anywhere, learn anything, read anything we want before we have to face the world, but armed with new knowledge…

“So… it’s an egg!” Chad said brightly.

“Sort of metaphorically,” she smiled at him like a patient kindergarten teacher, then launched into the same description Jungkook had listened to her give the local news reporter earlier. “The globe in the center here is made of glass and resin set in a metal frame that creates the swirls, and there’s a blue tint to everything both because of water as the source of life and because blue is generally considered peaceful and tranquil. It was important to me that you can see through the globe though. We spend so much time learning geography and cultural differences and species differences, but I wanted to capture that we’re still people too. So you can see the country boundaries if you look for them, but you can also look through and see people just like you on the other side.”

“That explains the paintings too,” Yoongi said as they all turned a low circle, looking. The obvious thing would have been to paint pictures of people but that wasn’t what Rana had done. She had painted colors and shapes of culturally significant things that then faded into other things from other cultures –the saffron of Thai monk robes faded into stacks of spices from a Moroccan market faded into pyramids faded into brown mountains faded into tall green peaks with gray ruins faded into the statue of David faded into… and so on. Everything was connected, two floors of brick walls covered with this elaborate murals that showed a stream-of-conscious sampling of the world –but it was less literal than that too and Jungkook tried to understand how Rana managed to capture all of it so well because the shapes and items weren’t what felt important, it was the colors that felt important. It was beautiful to look at. It pointed out connections to you that maybe you’d never noticed before. It made the world feel both infinitely huge and also familiar, within reach, knowable.

It was the perfect art for a public library. Just literal enough, just evocative enough, just aspirational enough. Jungkook could completely understand why the library had chosen her work out of whatever else had been submitted. He knew she’d struggled too with the feedback to make it a little more familiar and literal than she normally did with her art. But the result was beautiful. Only a slight compromise.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured to her, wrapping his arm around her waist so people would know he was associated with her. Their other friends marveled too and asked questions and were appropriately impressed. He’d been dubious about Chad and Steven but they were whispering to each other. He suspected they did not understand the mural.

Rana had a sweet smile as she said to them, “Well, thank you… thanks for coming to it… I know it’s just a library thing but–”

“It’s a big deal,” Yoongi interrupted. “You should be proud.”

“I’m proud,” Jungkook quickly added.

“I’m proud,” Rana admitted, squeezing Jungkook’s hand. The squelch of the sticky thing startled him; he’d forgotten about it. “Libraries are important and amazing and I know most people will never think about who made this art but… I did it. That feels really good to me.

“Ms. Benani.”

Rana spun quickly at the address, as one of the organizers approached, “I’m sorry to interrupt… can you come speak with– can we get some photos of you with–”

“Go,” Jungkook grinned, thrusting her forward. For once she looked shy about the spotlight.

Jungkook wasn’t totally thrilled it left him prey to their combined social circles. Chad and Steven had swooped back to the snack table –which probably meant they hadn’t eaten before like Jungkook had told them to. Yannick and Seokjin were having a conversation about things on the walls that sounded like actual gibberish to Jungkook. Namjoon’s sisters were starting to pester him about drinks afterwards. Taehyung was talking to an attractive woman about the statue. Yoongi and his girlfriend looked quietly up at the globe.

He was so fucking proud of Rana. For her art. For her hard work. For the magnetic north she was for him and his friends, that’s how he felt.

She flew by, mumbling, “Sorry, I’m almost done and then we can head out–”

“Take your time,” Jungkook said, but Seokjin said it at the same time.

Ruffled, Jungkook glanced at Yannick’s retreating back and demanded, “What were you and Yannick talking about so intensely?”

“To be honest,” Seokjin said, leaning in, “I never fucking know.”

***

“Next round!” Namjoon called, his massive hands holding a dangerous number of shots. Namji and Namri followed close behind him, hands also full. Namri was rolling her eyes and Namji was blushing, the reason revealed as they sat and Namri complained,

“You always get immediate service and it’s annoying that you don’t even notice.”

“It’s just service, Ri. Not everything is some big conspiracy against you–”

“Yeah, spoken like the pretty sister–”

“Oh my god, I’m not,” Namji said but with a smile like she didn’t believe her own words. Jungkook craned his neck, ignoring them except to remember that when he’d once mentioned Namji was the pretty sister, Rana had laughed in his face and insisted they were both pretty but Namri had something special that Namji didn’t… leave it to Rana to both love pretty things for superficial reasons and yet not even comprehend that people applied those judgments to people too. She was adamant. She wouldn’t even consider that Namji was prettier and Jungkook hadn’t really cared to argue because why would he? Rana was prettier than both of them combined. Objectively.

He smiled at her as she made her way back from the restroom, sliding between people and chairs with the grace of a dancer. As soon as she reached the table, she returned his smile; he pressed a hand to her back to pull her into his side as he returned his attention to the shots set in front of everyone.

“We’re starting with shots?” Rana laughed. “It’s a Wednesday night!”

“Yeah, make sure your next opening is on a weekend,” Yoongi suggested, giving her a smug grin.

“Better yet, just have alcohol at the opening,” Steven suggested. They couldn’t all fit at one table and Jungkook had hoped to edge Chad and Steven out but Seokjin and Yoongi had just dragged the tables together.

“Uh huh, she’ll get right on that,” Chad snorted, then hit Steven’s head. “Idiot. You can’t openly serve alcohol in a public library!”

“Openly!” Namji repeated, shaking her head.

“Ok, have your opening somewhere else next time,” Steven corrected.

“You know she didn’t just like pick it, right?” Taehyung asked slowly just as Jungkook opened his mouth to say something much less patient. “She had to apply and get selected to do that out of like a million people.”

“It wasn’t a million–”

“It’s a huge honor,” Jungkook said, interrupting her as he reached into his pocket. He pulled his phone out casually as he continued, “You worked really hard for it. I won’t let anyone talk bad about it, even you,” he warned as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“It’s not talking bad to correct that it wasn’t like one million people applied for the– fine,” she huffed. “Whatever. I beat a million people. Go me.”

“It’s really cool,” Namri assured her. “I mean you see those big kinds of statues everywhere and you never think about who made them!”

“I think about it,” Namjoon argued.

“Yeah but you’re weird,” Namji teased, while Taehyung added, “Yeah but for other reasons. And I’ll always think about statues and who made them because now I know someone who does that kind of thing! Rana, I’ll go to all your openings.”

“To pick up girls…” Yoongi mumbled.

“I didn’t pick anyone up!”

“Because it was full of children.”

“Yeah, exactly. And now she’s got this in her portfolio, she can apply for the next thing that will have more uh… single birds, if you catch my drift…”

Rana’s foot knocked against Jungkook’s ankle as he slid his phone beneath the table.

“But it’s kind of wild they don’t have ropes, right?” Chad asked.

“What… ropes?” Seokjin asked, whereas anyone else would have just nodded and ignored him so as not to encourage him.

“That you have to stay behind. Like you can just walk right up to the globe and touch it.”

“He did touch it,” Steven tattled.

“It can be touched,” Rana said. “I mean it’ll get fingerprints but it’s sturdy. And it’s a library, I had to assume kids would be like kicking soccer balls at it and running into it and wiping their boogers on the wall and stuff.”

“Wow, you really love kids, huh?” Taehyung teased.

“They’re fine.”

“Oh. So you and Jungkook have any other news to share tonight–?”

Jungkook’s hand slipped and Rana stiffened on her stool. It was suspicious looking. Their friends laughed as Rana assured them,

“No no… well… we’re thinking about getting like a dog or a cat? But I thought one of those dragon lizards would be cooler.”

“What dragon lizard? That sounds awesome!”

“Oh, a bearded dragon?” Seokjin asked. “You’ve wanted one of those since you were a kid. And a tarantula.”

“Remember that one time you tried to get me a tarantula?”

“Yeah yeah yeah…” Seokjin sighed.

“And then you like nearly fainted just seeing it in the cage? You know, Yannick has a pet tarantula! I wish he could have come out, but it was so nice of him to come by before work…”

“He’s an interesting guy,” Namjoon mused. It gave Rana a break, a chance to lean in close to Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Easy, dude.”

“Is it working?” he asked, sliding his thumb up and then back down the touchscreen. She shifted on the chair and pressed her mouth to his shoulder, closing her eyes like she was giving him an affectionate kiss.

“Yeah.”

He opened his mouth but she covered it and shook her head, so he typed on his phone instead and turned it so she could see.

Think you can get off on it?

She thought about it then shook her head. He frowned. She took his phone and deleted his note and typed:

I’m not going to cum at the table, pingu. For your eyes only.

He gave her a grumpy frown but realized she was right. When she’d agreed to this idea of his, she’d agreed on two conditions: he didn’t make her cum until they got home, and he promised to fuck her as soon as they got home. Stipulations he could obviously agree to. Just keeping her buzzing and warm all night? He’d salivate if he actually thought about how wet she’d be for him by the time they got home. Right? He wanted to ask her how deep it was and how strong it felt and if it was uncomfortable. But when he pulled the egg toy control screen up again and ran his finger across the dial to make it hum low and deep in her pussy, he could tell by the way she shifted on her chair that she felt it. And from the way she pinched his thigh under the table that it felt good.

Granted it had not been his idea to use the toy tonight. He had bought it and tucked it away in the sex toy chest in the second room and thought nothing of it until she’d texted him a picture from the bathroom only a short while ago: panties pulled to the side to show the hot pink tail of the toy emerging from her pussy, wrapping down and around. The end of it must be nestled between her ass cheeks right now, maybe pressed right against her asshole. Would she feel the vibrations there too then?

Fuck, this was hot. And right after her opening… if this was how Rana liked to wind down and celebrate after an opening, Jungkook was happy to be her loving and supportive partner.

Besides, there was something just so good about doing nothing for a long time, leaving it silent within her as they all listened and laughed at Namjoon’s latest date debacle. He’d wait until he could tell she’d started to relax, then start the buzzing, gradually increasing it until he could see her fingers twitch on the table. Then he’d slowly decrease it while she tried not to look at him.

The thrill of control was something he’d had to let go of so much since dating Rana, and while it had made his life better in almost every way, this was fun. Really fun.

“Wait, so you have to go to school to be a conductor?” Namji asked Yoongi. “Like more than you already went to school?”

“You went to school?” Chad asked, equally as surprised.

Yoongi rubbed his earlobe, a sign he was drawing on deep patience, as he said, “There are lots of paths to becoming a conductor… but I’m only doing it for this summer camp program. I don’t want to be a professional conductor.”

“Wait, I don’t think I understood this,” Namjoon realized, holding his hand out as if someone was going to drag him away from the topic. “You’re going to be working with kids?”

“For a three week program in July, yeah…”

“Do we get to see the performance afterwards?” Rana asked, leaning forward on the table. Tits squeezed between her folded, crossed arms. Her dress wasn’t particularly low but Jungkook could still follow the curve of her breasts. He knew where her nipples were pushing against the fabric of her bra. They always perked up so quickly; maybe in better lighting he’d be able to see the shadow of them right now.

Fuck he was getting so hard doing this. He made the buzzing pulse several times and was rewarded by her uncrossing her legs on the stool. Staring at her chest, he could make out the way she held her breath for a moment. He ramped up the buzzing and left it there a little longer, imagining he could feel the vibrations himself, tingling in his dick and up the muscles of his abdomen. He wondered if he’d be able to feel the egg vibrating if he pressed his hand to her lower belly. How deep had she nestled it? If she got too wet, would it slide out on its own? Did she have to clench to hold it in?

You doing ok?

He showed her his phone screen, cocking his eyebrow, tonguing the inside of his cheek. He didn’t care if his friends saw him blatantly flirting with his girlfriend, as long as they didn’t know what else was going on. How wet he was making her right now without even touching her, just with a stroke of his thumb on his phone screen. So innocent!

She typed a simple message back.

Fuck?

“Not yet,” he smiled, and lifted his beer to his lips and turned his attention back to the story of the table, something about… about… fuck if he knew. Oh, Taehyung was telling the story of how his parents met, which was cute, but an odd story for this crowd. Namri and Namji were hanging onto his every word, but Namjoon would fuck him up if he made a move on either of his sisters.

“That’s so sweet,” Namri sighed. “No wonder you have such high standards.”

“Oh yeah, I definitely do–”

“Yeah, for marriage. Low standards for–”

“Hey! At least medium standards for that too!”

He was pulsing the egg again. Rana was being very quiet and no one but him seemed to notice. Maybe they thought she was tired. Definitely no one would guess that pretty pussy of hers was holding tightly to a pretty little pink egg right this very minute. He wondered how tight it fight and if it moved when her walls clenched and how close he’d gotten her to cumming yet. What if she came without telling him? No. He’d know. He was sure he’d know. Her skin got a darker, shinier look on her chest and cheeks when she came. She’d bite her lip or clench her hand. Maybe she’d moan without meaning too.

Fuck, he was throbbing.

Suddenly she shifted on her bar chair; only Jungkook could see that she reached sneakily between her legs. The fitted skirt was hiked up above her knees.

Quickly he typed the message on his phone:

No touching

It fell out she typed back. Too wet.

Jungkook swallowed. He smiled at something Seokjin said to him that he didn’t quite hear. By now his dick pulsed as hard as the egg, not totally hard but begging to be. He could feel the way his boxers clung to the precum oozing from his tip. If he spared it a single thought, he was going to get too hard to hide in these fitted pants. To check, he leaned back in his seat and glanced down– fuck. Yeah. Already too hard to hide.

He scooted his chair closer to the table, but a moment later her hand followed and brushed against him. She grabbed him. His shoulders jerked and he bumped into Seokjin.

“Sorry, too many beers,” Jungkook said sheepishly.

“That’s only your second one,” Taehyung pointed out, overhearing.

“Ah right well… I don’t drink much anymore so… low tolerance. It’s making me sleepy.”

“We just got here–”

“It’s already after eleven… I should get going,” Yoongi let out a big yawn and stretched his arms, letting one land around his girlfriend’s shoulder. She stared at his face like he was the moon on a pretty night.

“Yeah, same. I’ve got appointments starting at seven,” Namjoon agreed.

“That’s so gross.”

He nodded, “I know. I don’t set the clinic's hours. I got stuck with the morning shift this week though. Whatever, it’s fine. I don’t mind, it’s fine.” How Namjoon, to interrupt his valid complaint to insist it wasn’t that big of a deal after all.

But Jungkook didn’t care about Namjoon right now. He cared about how he was going to get out of here in his tight pants without anyone noticing. Rana had his jacket.

“Hey, I’ll carry that,” he said, trying to take it from her as she slid from her high-backed chair like everyone else was doing.

“I’ll hold onto it,” she said. “I’m cold.” She smiled. He glared. So she knew why he wanted his jacket.

“Rana.”

“Koo.”

“Ahhh this was fun, I should hang out with you all more often,” Namji sighed. Namri rolled her eyes and grabbed her shoulders and shoved her ahead while Namjoon followed behind them.

“Rana.”

“Everything ok?” Seokjin asked. Just being nice. He was always so nice, wasn’t he? Just the nicest guy! Ready to help anytime, with things that weren’t even his business…

Rana giggled and gave Jungkook his jacket, assuring Seokjin, “It’s fine. You have a ride home? We can give you a lift.”

Phone hidden under the jacket he draped in front of him, Jungkook pushed the egg up to maximum inside her, like he’d done all night any time he would normally have been digging a finger into her side.

“No no, I already ordered an Uber.”

“Are you sure? We don’t mind…”

“I’m sure. Have a good night. Everything was perfect.” He touched Rana’s shoulders and pressed his cheek to hers, but didn’t kiss like he normally did.

“Thanks for going, Fulton.”

Seokjin’s chuckle was annoying. Jungkook’s boner was definitely no longer a problem. He kept the egg quiet in Rana, not wanting her to have the least bit of positive reinforcement while hugging Seokjin, old friend or not.

“Hey, you got your egg?” Taehying asked, tapping Jungkook’s shoulder as the last one to leave the table.

For a moment Jungkook thought he meant the one stretching out Rana’s pussy. Then he found himself patting his pockets before remembering,

“Oh, I don’t carry it with me anymore. It’s at home.”

“Rana took your egg, huh?”

“Yeah, she took it,” Jungkook nodded, innocently repeating.

“Gross dude, I don’t want to know–”

“Taehyung!” Jungkook complained and shoved Taehyung. In doing so, he moved his jacket, which was fine at this point, but dropped his phone, which was less fine because the egg controller app was open. Jungkook thought it doubtful Taehyung didn’t know what the app was for as they both impulsively reached for it. Taehyung swooped in faster and clutched it up; Jungkook bounced right back up, grabbing for it.

“Have a good night, you two,” Taehyung said, handing it back as Chad and Steven yelled for him to hurry up already. He’d barely glanced at the screen. But he winked.

“He knows,” Jungkook whispered.

“Who cares?” Rana whispered back.

“I don’t want him thinking about my girlfriend creaming an egg in her pussy.”

“I don't think he is,” Rana snickered. “That’s more your thing, babe. That’s not universal.”

“How is that not universal? Creaming anything is objectively hot…”

They reached their car, a light yellow Volkswagen Beetle that Rana had begged him for and he’d pretended not to want it just as much. It made him think of sunflowers and Rana and the vintage cars his dad had dreamed of collecting and hippies and counterculture and freedom and defiance and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Can I drive?” she asked with a big grin.

“While I’m buzzing you? You’ll crash.”

“Ok it’s not that strong.”

“No?” He increased the buzz.

“I mean, it feels good but…” She broke off as he kissed her. “Mostly it feels good because you’re the one doing it.”

“Oh, you like me taking back a little control, huh?”

“I’d like you to take something a little more me-shaped… think you can drive home with that stick?”

“The car is automatic– oh.” He brushed his nose against hers as she openly groped him. He kissed her again, swallowing the gasp that snuck as he pulsed the control.

“What does it feel like?” he whispered.

“Like there’s a vibrating egg in my pussy– Koo, just get us home, yeah? It’s been a good but long day.”

The flurry of action getting into the car and buckled and pulling away took over at first. Jungkook focused on that, on her very fair request. It was late and she’d been up since before dawn, yoga-ing out her nerves.

“I’m really proud of you,” he told her, not wanting that to be forgotten in the middle of this sexy thing with the egg. She slid her shoes off, rubbing her feet, one knee angled.

“Thanks, baby.” She glanced at his phone and unlocked it with the passcode he’d never hidden from her. The remote app was up. She left it there and turned low music on and then turned her face out to look out the window. Knee still bent. Dress hiked up, showing off the warm brown skin of her thighs.

Jungkook reached forward and pushed the control. Up and then down. Up and then down. Slowly up and slowly down. Eyes staying on the road.

“Hm…” Rana hummed as if thinking deep thoughts but she didn’t share anything. She shifted in her seat, pulling her skirt higher.

“People can see into the car.”

“It’s dark, no one’s looking.”

Their voices sounded too loud over the music. She lifted an arm higher, curling it back around the headrest. She swiveled her hips in the seat, angled more in his direction. He kept his gaze strictly on traffic.

“Rana…”

“Yeah?”

“Baby, I’m driving.”

“You’re doing such a good job at it too. Paying such good attention to the red lights.”

He gritted his teeth. He refused to participate in reckless driving! He tried not to look or pay her any attention except to raise and lower the vibrations as she spread her legs, shimmying her skirt up over her hips, legs and panties just full out now. Streetlights flickered through the windows, making the soft expanse of her thighs glow, emphasizing the satiny blue thong barely containing her swollen lips. She’d pulled it to the side in the photo.

“Oh,” she moaned deep in her chest. ”I’m clenching so hard I pushed it out– fuuuuck.” He kept the same motion with the vibrations, except now he could hear the thing over the low music. Apparently it was a stronger feeling when trapped by her panties on the outside of her heat because her moans got louder too, riding the wave of vibration pattern he strummed on his phone.

He gritted his teeth and didn’t look. Didn’t look. Didn’t look at the egg-shaped bulge straining the stretch of her panties. He wondered if her juices were starting to run around it, dripping down her ass the way they did when marathon fucked her. Fuck. He was driving, for fuck’s sake, he didn’t want to cause a crash and total their car and have to explain to anyone that he lost control of the vehicle because his girlfriend had her legs spread and she was moaning like a song.

He slammed on the breaks the second the car was in the garage and turned to her.

“Are you close?” he asked. “I told you not to cum–”

“Until we’re home –fuck I’m so close,” she admitted. “It was so funny watching you try not to notice while your cock got tighter in those–” He leaned forward and kissed the inside of her thigh, opening his door so he could half dangle out of the car and crouch down, but not exiting the car just yet because her gasps and whines were getting louder and the bulge of the egg held against her pussy by that blue thing had him anchored in place.

He turned the strength down and her whine brought back that thrill of control.

“Not yet–” he started to say.

“You’ve been edging me for hours, if I don’t cum I’m just going to go numb and–”

“No hands,” he told her, pushing her hand away where she’d begun to stroke her clit. The fabric was darker, stained, straining to keep that egg nestled snug right in the caress of her pussy lips. He decided to be merciful and started to pulse the buzz again, and watched her squirm and sigh. The constraints of his pants hurt but he ignored it except to tug himself into a better position. He didn’t want to miss this. He’d been waiting for this all night.

He turned the music off and hummed a harmony with the buzz of the egg.

“Koo….” she whined.

“Oh right. You can cum now.”

She rocked her hips, chasing just the right spot without using her hands, currently pinned behind her by her own body. Jungkook, one arm wedged into his pants, squeezed the base of his cock tight to try to keep from exploding at how fucked out she looked without a hand laid on her, sprawled across the seat of the car, body rocking against a panty-trapped egg and–

“Koo. Koo,” she cried, mouth gasping, eyes closed, lips so fucking kissable Jungkook thought he’d die if he didn’t kiss her soon. Her arms and legs jerked a sharp way, bare feet scrabbling against the console and the dash as a wail poured from Rana’s tongue. He reached forward and cupped his hand over the egg, pressing it harder against her as she cried out louder, a string of curses that would have made the neighbors blush if it wasn’t the middle of the night.

“Good, baby, good, cream that egg you’ve been keeping warm all night–”

“Fuck, Koo, I–” Her strangled cry and sharp buck to get away almost made him merciful, but he knew she liked this part, the moment of too much, of him not quite letting her go yet. He could practically follow her eyes rolling back in her head. The deep, heaving gasp and forward arch of her shoulders let him know it was enough.

He didn’t bother to stop the buzzing, just hunched over and dragged her panties to the side and pulled the egg away, practically molten after such a long period of use. Tempting as it was to lick her juices off, her pussy drew him like a siren; he buried his mouth and nose, gentle and careful of her clit but hungry. He thrust the egg up towards her face, blindly searching for her mouth.

“Koo…” her sigh was a different kind of song as he lapped her clean, hands gripping her thighs to keep her spread. “Koo, baby, you must be so fucking hard right now…”

“Mm-hm.” He glanced up at her. She slid the egg into her mouth and slowly pulled it out.

“Leaking in your pants, baby?” she smiled.

“Mm-hm,” he admitted. It sounded more like a whimper.

“What a mess.” He could hear her grin without seeing. The way she stroked his hair made him feel like the best man in the world, tongue diving into her exhausted hole again and again. “Want to move inside and I’ll…”

“Can’t wait that long,” he admitted and pulled away from her. “These pants are practically chastity–”

“Oh is that something you want to try?” she winked at him.

“That was basically my whole life before I met you!”

His hands fumbled with the belt until she took over, ripping it out of the waistband and yanking down his fly.

“Lean your seat back.”

He overdid it; the backrest slammed back and he yelped in surprise at the sudden shift but she was undeterred. Rana’s fingers were fast in all things, and before he’d even acclimated to being on his back, Rana’s lips were painting saliva across the flushed skin of his cock. Now it was his turn to grip the headrest and slowly grind his hips against the bob of her throat. It was his turn to whine her name and beg for relief. The tickle of her curls dragging against the sensitive skin of his lower belly had him biting his lip not to cry.

Unlike her, he couldn’t endure two hours of this. In no time at all he lifted his hips and held them there, whole body taught and tight as he poured himself into her mouth. Two hours of being edged by her edging had his brain draining onto her tongue. He had never loved her more than when she ignored the embarrassing noises he made as she licked him clean.

“Lotta cum,” she teased, sliding up his body.

“Fuck, teasing you all night was…”

“I liked it too,” she smiled.

“Yeah?”

“Well… yes, but…”

His brow lowered, “But…” Before she could give him bad news, he admitted, “This is really uncomfortable and my dick is just hanging out and…” He closed his eyes for a moment, dizzy. She settled over his lap, warm cunting blanketing his exposed cock, soothing that feeling of vulnerability. She was warm, pubic soft and comforting over the sticky mess of their sex. He could have settled into sleep right there, hands gripping her ass like a pillow.

“No, don’t fall asleep here. Let’s go in to bed,” she giggled against his throat. “I was just going to say, It was just maybe a little long… I thought I might not even be able to cum, I was going numb. Like if you put your dick in me I probably would have cried.”

“In a bad way.”

“Not in the way I like your dick to make me cry, yeah.”

He hated to move, but when she pulled off it, it propelled him into motion. The seats were clean; he realized she’d been sitting on his jacket, and he loved her so much for thinking of that. But also it meant she had planned to let herself drip all over on the ride home… damn.

He lowered the garage door while she locked the car and grabbed her purse. He unlocked the door into the house and made sure it locked behind them. Returning home together from anything was delightfully domestic, and he loved this mundane routine as the follow up to that that had just happened in their bug. She was still a little wobbly as she walked and he still felt winded as he got them each a glass of water and then followed her upstairs. All of this was done in an unusual silence.

“I don’t want you to cry,” he finally said when they reached the bedroom, setting the waters on their matching nightstands. “But you did say I had to fuck you as part of the deal.”

“Eh, I came, close enough.”

“Well it’s not though. I’m a man of my word, Rana. We made a deal and–”

“Jungkook Jeon if you put that mammoth dick in me right now I will–”

He caught her around the waist and teased, “Yeah? You’ll what?”

“Honestly I might just fall asleep under you.”

“Shit,” he laughed. “That would shatter my ego.”

“Besides, there wasn’t a time limit. You could wake me up with your dick in the morning. I’ll allow it.”

“How generous of you.” He held her tight and fell sideways onto the bed with her, making her laugh, choking on her hair. He burrowed deeper until he could kiss her neck, and let out a deep sigh to be off his feet and with his pants at least unzipped. The relief of that orgasm was felt in multiple ways. His pants finally fit again.

“I’m very generous!”

“Even for a world famous artist.”

“Ok, I know it was a library–”

“First a library,” he agreed. “You’re my favorite artist, Banana. I can’t wait to see what you do next.”

“You’re so fucking sweet. I love you so much,” she sighed into his mouth on the wave of a lazy kiss. Time slowed to a glacial pace when she kissed him. He felt eternal, tangled up with her, hand running down the soft material of her dress draped over the soft form of the most wonderful person in the world.

“I love you too,” he whispered, pouring the words onto her breath like the most dangerous secret. “You’re my favorite person,” he said.

“You’re my favorite too.”

“Let’s just kiss for a while and see what happens, huh?”

What happened was that they fell asleep fully clothed, teeth unbrushed, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Jungkook was making eggs when Rana came down in the morning wearing one of his shirts and nothing else judging by the amount of thigh he could see. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder and hummed sleepily against him.

“Making some for you too. I heard you getting up.”

“I’m ravenous.”

“For sex?” he asked hopefully.

“For food,” she snorted.

“And then sex.”

“Maybe…” She cocked her eyebrow at him and stole a piece of dry toast from the plate. He’d been going to put the eggs and sriracha on it, a sort of open-faced sandwich, but Rana often ate her food in pieces. “Deconstructed,” she had once told him, and Taehyung had gone all heart eyes about it because suddenly he was all about art lately too. Apparently that was an art thing? Jungkook didn’t get it, he just liked the stuff Rana did.

She hopped up onto the kitchen counter to eat the toast, crumbs cascading down the shirt, plinking against the counter and onto the floor.

“Rana…”

“If we get a dog, we don’t have to worry about crumbs.”

“Ok let’s get a dog.”

“Will you be sad if we don’t have a baby?”

Jungkook froze with the spatula in the air. An egg slid off and back into the pan, breaking the yolk. That was disappointing. Shit. They both liked their yolks runny.

“Uh… why are you asking this? We talked about this kinda…didn’t we? I thought…”

“Yeah, I don’t have the oven, but we just kind of left it vague and… I don’t know. We got so serious so fast, but that feels like an important thing to agree on. Like what if you really want a baby and I don’t and then you just resent me forever–”

“Hey, where is this coming from? I’m not thinking about babies.”

“I don’t know, I was just thinking about all the kids running around at the library and…”

Jungkook waited. He scooped the overdone egg onto a piece of toast. Whatever, he’d eat it, it didn’t have to be perfect. He cracked two more to make perfect ones for her, and put another piece of bread in the toaster because even though she’d already eaten it, she would pout if she had runny yolks and no toast to mop them up with.

“Well, do you?” she finally asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I assumed it was probably not going to happen with you; you seemed to not want that kind of thing.”

“I don’t know,” she repeated. “I didn’t even know my eggs could still get harvested until you told me that at that really weird time–”

“Ok ok…”

“And there’s always adoption and… the truth is, I just don’t know. I never thought about it at all before you. But you like to plan for the future and I want all of your dreams to come true. What if that’s not my dream?”

He shrugged, “Then we don’t have kids.”

“That’s not disappointing to you?”

“Our life is awesome. I don’t know what our future looks like which is crazy for me,” he laughed. “But I’m ok figuring it out. What if our life is just this forever? That doesn’t seem so bad to me.”

“That’s what I mean, I’m just so happy with you right now and not overplanning but this is one of those things that seems like it’s important to be on the same page about–”

“Yeah, we’re on the same page,” he insisted. “If we want that someday, we’ll figure it out. If not, hey, no surprises, you know?” He paused, then admitted, “That’s pretty nice, never to have to worry. I never have to buy condoms again!”

“No periods,” Rana added.

“You still get a little touchy at that time of month–”

“I do not!” she gasped, and threw a piece of toast at him. It dropped to the ground where there was not yet a dog to clean it, so Jungkook had to.

“Just pick out a dog already,” he said, tossing the toast back at her. “Or a cat. Anything.”

“If you really want a baby someday, we could steal one. Isn’t that what penguins in the wild do?”

He wagged his finger at her, “That’s mean! Yeah if their baby dies! But that’s actual penguins, not humans. No stealing babies, Rana.”

“I’m just kidding,” she sighed. “I only steal from you. I’m clean. It’s boring.”

“I like it. I never know when your fingers are going to start poking around in my pockets.”

“That’s because you leave me treats.”

“Gotta make sure you know where your roost is.”

“Oh I’m well trained now,” she assured him, watching with big eyes as he transferred the perfect eggs to the plate for her. Only when he’d pushed it towards her and turned off the stove did he turn to eat his slightly cold. “Ok. So we agree then. We just play it by ear. Life. We play life by ear.”

“Hey, baby? You really need to learn to relax,” he suggested, resting his hand on her thigh. “Be like me. Go with the flow.”

“I’m going to choke you–”

“Kinky.”

“--with chopsticks.”

“You know I’ll try anything with you.” He grinned and she giggled, pulling her feet up onto the counter with her. Yeah, definitely no panties on. He tried not to see, at least long enough for them to finish breakfast.

“Hey,” he said after a moment, “You were kidding though, right? About it being boring with me?”

“Oh no no, being with you isn’t boring. I have never been so fucked out in my life!” That made him smile proudly. “I just meant about not stealing things anymore and getting into fights with shitty coffee vendors–”

“Ah, Rana, you worried me so much back then…”

“I never stole anything important!”

“It’s about… social contract. Justice. Fairness. You can’t just take anything you want–”

“You know what I think it was?” she mused, gaze distant at the ceiling. “Growing up I had anything I wanted. My parents would buy me anything. Or my nanny would. But I didn’t want things, I wanted… moments. Experiences. I wanted to touch the world in a way you can’t buy with money. I wanted sincere connections with people. I wanted to feel life –good, bad, hot, cold, wet, dry. I know I was too privileged to even know what that meant when I left my parents’ house and cut ties but… I know what it’s like now. I’ve made and lost friends, I’ve made and lost money, I’ve been homeless and hated and loved and afraid and even briefly heartbroken.” She meant him; he could tell by her face. The knowledge he could break her heart was so serious and scary to him. He’d done it once; he’d never do it again. He’d hold her heart safe against his, the most precious and beloved egg he could protect.

“You wound up somewhere pretty good though, right?” He wanted to hear her say it.

“I did. But for a long time I was just reaching and grabbing and trying to find what would make me feel full, you know?” She cupped her hands like an empty bowl. “Everything I did was trying to find something I could hold on to. I realized over time it doesn’t just happen, you have to reach for it. You have to search. So I grabbed the coffee or the office supplies or the bottle of wine or whatever… it was a high to hold onto when I felt so pointless.”

“And I fixed that?”

“You were part of it,” she nodded. “You and my art. I can’t separate you because you’re a work of art and you’re mine and you were my best theft of all.”

“Oh you stole me, huh?” he laughed. “From Marisol?” He slid his hands up her legs to rest on her hips under the shirt and he leaned in to brush his nose against hers.

“No, I mean when I stole your egg. That was a very good thing to do.” She kissed him, pad of her finger tracing down his throat and back up. The touch combined with the morning taste of her made him slower to catch on.

“Wait, what?” he asked, leaning away. “When did you steal my egg?”

“Uh oh.”

“Rana…”

“I thought you figured that out…”

“Ranaaaa. When did you steal my egg–”

“It was so obvious! When we first met! I… uh… you know what, why don’t I just– I think I hear my phone ringing…” She tried to hop off the counter, but he caught her around the waist and trapped her back against him.

“Confess! Now!”

“Fine! I saw you in the bar with your friends and I stole your egg so I’d have a reason to talk to you!” she admitted through giggles and shrieks.

“You stole my egg!!!! Thief!!”

“I didn’t know how important it was to you! So then I felt bad and told you I found it in th stairwell…”

“Thief! Liar!” He was laughing too, dragging her through to the living room. “What a bad girl!”

“No, don’t call me a bad girl! You’ll make me horny and I just had breakfast–”

Too bad. He tossed her down and twisted her into his lap on the couch and spanked her ass as she howled with laughter.

“You deserve it! You stole my egg!”

“I deserve it,” she admitted, all giggles. She managed to twist and grabbed his wrists and pinned them to his chest, because he let her. Breathless, hair falling in her face, wide smile on full display, Jungkook had never seen a more beautiful sight. Babies, dogs, lizards, whatever else happened in the future didn’t matter at all, because life would be whole and full enough with just her.

“But I have no regrets. Live your life with no regrets, Pingo.”

“Yeah, ok, I regret letting you off so easy, more spanking,” he said, twisting her again.

“Injustice!” she laughed as he tugged the shirt up and spanked her bare ass this time. “Martyrdom! Noot noooooot–”

“I’m spanking until you stop nooting at me.”

“Noot noot noot.”

“It’s pronounced noot noot.”

“I knew it!”

“Yeah well I didn’t know you stole my egg! There are other ways to meet people!”

“Oh yeah, like dating apps, huh?!”

Jungkook would accept the dating app teasing. He’d accept the noot teasing. He’d confess his love daily and he’d allow himself to chase the dreams he wanted, dreams that were his own, his and Rana’s, and he’d love himself for all the things he was. And his little blue egg could spend its days happily displayed on the mantel, where Rana would collect more glass things over time, so it would never be lone again, that little egg that had been his life raft for so many years and, it turned it out, helped him meet the love of his life.

Because she fucking stole it! Rana really was the sort of woman who took what she wanted and Jungkook was very, very glad that he was one of those things.

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Thank you so much for reading and for any likes and reblogs along the way!! I hope you've enjoyed this little story. Next in the series will focus on Barn Owl Yoongi, but I don't have an expected publication date yet while I'm still working on my current projects. You can always see what I'm up to on my public trello here

#hybrid jungkook #hybrid bts #penguin koo #jungkook #jungkook x oc #jk x oc #jeon jungkook x oc #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts smut #jeon jungkook ff #jungkooksmut #jeon jungkook x reader

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provincial-girl · 2 years ago

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Gretson Fic Recs

I’ve been reading boatloads of great A League of Their Own fic, specifically Greta/Carson, so I decided to try my hand at doing some Gretson fic recs. It’s something exactly no one asked for, but I used to love the whole fic recs thing, so I figured why not? This is just a smattering of the dozens and dozens of great stories I’ve read, which means it’s by no means an exhaustive list. I’ll split them up by whether they’re one shot or multi-chapter, with multi-chapter fics labeled complete or work in progress. Each description will have a link to the fic, a bit of spoiler-free info about it, the length, rating, and potential reasons for the rating. Please note, I’ve not included an exhaustive list of every potential trigger, so keep an eye on fic tags too. Also, most of these take place in the 1940’s, so assume there’s bound to be at least a bit period typical homophobia.

Multi-Chapter

Complete

Off-Season-A post season 1 Gretson reunion fic that’s well-written, very in-character, and clearly very well researched. The research makes this feel authentic, adds some depth to the fic in a way that keeps you engaged in the story. It’s complete, canon compliant, and gives all kinds of good Gretson feels. At just over 11,000 words, it’s a good fic if you want to spend some time with a story, but can’t make a huge time commitment. Rated M for sexual content.

Pizza with a Friend-I've really enjoyed everything I've read from Zulu, but this one here is a personal favorite. In one of the notes, the author describes the writing process as digging a comedy hole with an angst shovel, which is actually a pretty perfect way to describe it. There’s comedy and hijinks, often related to oblivious Baby Gay Carson, then there’s angst related to all of Greta’s Big Feelings, but it all manages to fit together really well, and the tone is somehow really consistent throughout. I’d say it’s canon divergent, but feels like it could fit within canon from a vibes perspective (don’t really know how else to explain it). It’s complete, and about 28,000 words, the kind of fic I might read over the course of 2 nights, though I’m sure it could easily be read in one evening. Rated E for sexual content sprinkled throughout, though the author carefully picks those moments.

‘Round and ‘Round We Go-Well written and cleverly plotted, this fic is kind of a time travel AU fic, but not in the way you’re used to. Carson lives in modern times, while Greta is from the 1940s. The fic is entirely Carson’s POV, and set in modern times, but I won’t say much more than that to avoid major spoilers. The inspiration for the fic’s version of time travel is apparently a novel called One Last Stop, though I haven’t read it, so I don’t know much beyond that. There’s some neat formatting at the start of each chapter that I really enjoyed. It’s complete at about 17,000 words, a great fic if you want something long, but not too long, the kind of thing I could read in an evening if I wanted to sit with a fic for a little while. Rated T, not too much beyond kissing as far as sexual content. Though it takes place in modern day, occasional references to 1940’s homophobia.

Works in Progress

Just Put Your Hands on Me-The hurt/comfort fic to end all hurt/comfort fics. It’s all achingly soft Gretson, all the time. There’s moments of the Peaches shipping it too, but it heavily features scenes with just Carson and Greta, so there’s a lot of introspection and exploration of their feelings for one another. The author does a great job of using both Greta and Carson’s POV, often writing from one POV before switching to the other to describe the same events, but it never feels boring or unnecessary, because it creates a more complete picture of what is happening. If I had to label it I’d say it maybe drifts in the direction of slightly canon divergent, but I wouldn’t argue with someone calling it canon compliant. The fic isn’t complete, but has 19 chapters for about 48,000 words, probably a little over half an average sized novel, so there’s enough to keep you busy for a while. Rated T at the moment for mild sexual content (kissing and vague references to other things), though the focus of the fic is more on emotional intimacy.

Tinsel-An exceptionally well-paced, beautifully written AU that I absolutely cannot stop thinking about. It's a story in which Greta is a 1940’s movie star, and Carson is a secretary at MGM looking for an adventure before she settles down and marries Charlie when he returns from war. It’s really well-researched, which creates this amazing atmosphere that captures the dark underbelly behind the glamor of Old Hollywood. It’s also very in-character for everyone, particularly Greta, who I’ve found can be hard to pin down. Not completed at the moment, but the first three of five chapters are up, and they average over 10,000 words each for a total of 37,000 words, which would be the length of a longish novella (short novel), so there’s plenty to read. Rated M, likely for scattered sexual content, pervasive period typical homophobia, general grossness of the studio system in Old Hollywood, and some heavy drug & alcohol use.

One Shots

Can this be a real thing? can it?-A gorgeously written one shot about times Greta and Carson dream about each other that perfectly captures the ethereal, otherworldly feeling of dreams. There’s some canon-typical angst, but it gets balanced out really nicely by some soft, happy moments. This is one of those 5 times +1 fics, and I’m weak for those, so this hit all my buttons. At 3,200 words, it’s the perfect length if you’re looking for a quick hit of some quality, canon-compliant Gretson content. Rated T, likely for kissing and references to the bar raid.

She’s Like Us-A short, missing moment fic about the time Jess finds Carson asleep in Greta’s bed. It has the whole tone and vibe of the show captured perfectly, and you can really hear the character voices coming through. It’s from Jess’ POV, and, though they talk about Greta/Carson, it’s really about the budding friendship between Greta and Jess. At just over 1,000 words it’s a perfect fic if you want to spend a few minutes with the good vibes, queer friendship content that ALOTO excels at. Rated T, perhaps for allusion to period typical homophobia and smoking.

She is made up of more-A long-ish one shot from Greta’s POV. It’s a canon-compliant fic about Greta getting into a personal and professional slump somewhere around mid-season, and how she works her way out of it. It’s quite introspective and Greta-centric, but there’s a good dose of the rest of the Peaches in there too. There are sexually explicit sections, though this is definitely not PWP, as those sections are a key part of moving the plot forward. At about 6,500 words, this fic is great if you want something a bit longer than your standard one shot, but don’t have the time or inclination to read a multi-chapter fic. Rated E for several instances of explicit sexual content.

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That’s all for now! There are some other fics I’m in the middle of reading that I was tempted to rec, but decided to hold off and only recommend stories I’m all caught up on. There's lots of other stuff I've read and loved, so I can definitely do some more of this sort of thing if folks are interested/looking for something specific in their stories. And if you read any of these recs (or any fic, really), don’t forget to leave some love for the story’s author in the fic’s comments!

#a league of their own #aloto #gretson #greta gill #carson shaw #femslash #I'd love to get some #fic recs #from folks #or just hear general thoughts and feelings on aloto #this show has me in an absolute chokehold in the best possible way #my stuff #meta

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zodiakuroo · 4 years ago

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Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences. That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would. Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours. Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.” He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine. You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C’mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That’s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn’t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle. Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea. He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it. He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”. All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt. You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. “Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

#dabi is just the worst huh #sorry about the angst i honestly don’t know how that happened #dark content #dark fic #mha smut #tw dubcon #bnha imagines #bnha smut #dabi imagine #dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha x reader #tw slapping #tw noncon #tw unhealthy relationship #tw gunplay #tw death mention

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afriendlyblackhottie · 3 years ago

Text

Dance, Dance

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: there’s been too much going on ever since you started messing around with your best friend.

Pairings: Colin Shea x Black!Best Friend!Reader

Warnings: minors dni, smut, angst, fluff

(A/N: yaaaay it’s done. This was a fun little series. I loved writing it. Titled after the song Dance, Dance by Fall Out Boy. Thanks everyone that enjoyed. Like, follow, reblog, and comment ☺️)

»»——————————-　♡　—————-————-««

You didn’t even know it was possible for you to fake smile for this long. As much as you enjoyed doing the whole music thing, industry shit was kind of the worse. You’d been overdue for at least a glass of champagne, but now you needed something stronger like whisky.

Things had been hectic lately. Just getting stuff ready and playing ball. The label that signed you was a smaller offshoot of a bigger one and so now you were here watching Colin take one for the team and schmooze it up since he knew the rest of you hated this part.

It wasn’t like you were bad at the whole thing. It’s just there was only so much you could deal with before finally reaching your limit. And all the old men ogling you was definitely something you could live without.

“Hey,” Ryan, your bass player, greeted as he sat beside you. It was kind of funny seeing the rest of them in suits and shit. You didn’t think they could wear anything but jeans and converse.

Hell for Colin clothing was already optional. Now he was there wearing a suit. Playing the part. And doing it well. You couldn’t lie, though. He looked good as hell. Obviously you weren’t the only one to notice. The woman whispering in his ear right no clearly saw it too.

“Hey,” you said with a sigh. This dress was scratchy as hell, but it was cute. It was probably worth more than your rent so you were really trying to not mess it up. Fuck you felt awkward.

So, yeah things had been a little weird since they’d walked in on you on Colin’s lap. Not that they could see that his pants had been undone from how you were but let’s just say the rest of the band had been doing this thing where they’d been trying to figure out your couple name ever since.

Still you didn’t know how to act around them. Especially since you’d left like your ass was on fire. Unlike with the whole girlfriend thing, the two of you didn’t get the chance to talk even a little after that. It felt like life was pulling the both of you in so many directions what were you even supposed to say. Sure the guys managed to squeeze their jokes in but other than that nothing.

You’d had photo shoots and meetings and just all kinds of shit. Sure this was definitely the life you wanted and you kind of appreciated the distraction. Didn’t mean you wanted to keep living in limbo with him. So it’s not like you’d been avoiding him so much as finding the time to have serious conversations was kind of not there.

At the same time it’s like were you even prepared for whatever he had to say. You don’t give a guy head and then make out with him for him to stop and start with ‘I just don’t think-‘ and expect him to say something not terrible. Especially not a guy like Colin. Even if you were holding out hope.

You knew his track record going into it. Which is why those rules had been in place. You’d been around a thousand Colin’s. You knew how it went. It was hit it and quit it every time. What made you different. If he really wanted to talk he would have. Nothing had ever kept him from telling you dumb shit all the time. Suddenly he couldn’t text?

Whatever. You didn’t even want to care. This was about the music. It was your fault anyway. You’d known better than to get tangled up in him but you’d done it anyway. You’d just have to live with that.

“So what are we doing tomorrow?” He asked.

You shrugged with a sigh. “I dunno. Was just thinking about keeping a low profile. I’m not really feeling it right now.”

Ryan frowned. “You know Colin doesn’t care,” he replied with a chuckle. “You know how he gets.”

“That’s fine,” you replied with a small smile with a shrug, bringing your glass of whiskey up to your lips. Thank goddess for an open bar, though, right. At least that would help you through the night.

“Okay so,” Colin said finally coming over to plop down beside you on a barstool,“how we feeling about an after party?”

You shrugged while him and Ryan started talking it over. If anything you’d probably go back to the hotel but whatever.

You rested your chin on your fists as the boys talked. It’s not that you wanted to be sad girl right now. You should be the happiest you’d ever been and you were but fuck this is gonna sound so lame but you missed your best friend. But no you forgot to wear underwear and now apparently neither of you knew how to act around each other.

“What about you?” He asked. “You know we’re no good without our fearless leader.”

“I thought this was a party,” you said setting your glass down. “I didn’t realize I was leading you into battle.”

Colin chuckled. “Oh it’s us against the world, Baby. There’s always a war.” He winked as he grabbed your glass. Not even phased when you protested and made grabby hands for it. “I’ll get you a new one if you say yes.”

“Eat a dick,” you grumbled then tried to get the bartender’s attention.

“Who pissed in your iced coffee?” He asked with a chuckle. “Come on. It’ll be fun. Better than whatever the fuck this is.” Can’t argue with that.

You shrugged. “I’ll see. I’m kinda tired.”

He pouted. “Don’t be a party pooper. Come on. Don’t you wanna hang with us. Keep us out of trouble.”

“Keep him out of trouble,” Ryan corrected making you laugh.

“Yes. Fine. Keep me out of trouble.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Come on. I’ll make it worth it.”

“How?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well,” he started as he thought, “I’m already taking you out for breakfast tomorrow so that’s out.”

“You are?” You asked with a chuckle. This was news to you.

“Um, duh,” he said before poking your side. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. It’s not that serious.”

Colin sighed, rolling his eyes. “Come on. I promise it’ll be fun.” He nudged you. Then his face softened. “Do you really not wanna go?”

No, but even though you were irritated with him you still felt like a lovesick puppy. And his eyes had gotten all romantic looking. It was so hard not giving in to him.

That’s how you found yourself out in the New York air. Crossing your arms in front of you. “What’s this?” You asked as you walked up to a limo.

“Our ride,” he said, into your ear.

“Hey, Colin,” the woman greeted him with a smile as she walked passed to get in. “You coming?”

He had the nerve to smile at you all brightly as he grabbed your arm. “Isn’t this cool,” he said as he sat beside her. You on the other side of him. Why didn’t you just go back to the fucking hotel when you had the chance.

The entire way to the party was filled with them laughing and talking. The entire time you were thinking say something, anything, but no you sat there awkward as hell. Ryan and your drummer James were sort of trying to include you while your rhythm guitarist Parker had decided to go to the hotel. You wish you’d just gone with him. You knew that’d be your first mistake.

You hated being in such a sour mood. Especially with so many people around. “You want a drink or something?” Colin asked into your ear, trying to talk over the loud music. You sighed, putting on another smile on as you nodded.

You tried to follow behind him, but this place was crowded. Looking back you saw that Ryan and James were no longer next to you either. Shit. Way to make this situation better, right.

Well Colin was right at least. This was better than that place crawling in suits. You walked along trying to find at least one of the men you came with and you were officially over it. Then you saw the balcony and decided to check out there next.

The fresh air was kind of nice. Maybe you just needed to clear your head for a minute. Hell you were ready to go to bed anyway.

Maybe tomorrow you’ll spend the day in the city. Doing whatever you wandered upon. No thinking about the next few months and how everything’s going to go from zero to one hundred. Not that you weren’t looking forward to it, but for now you wanted to welcome a little bit of peace.

Hopefully there’d be no thoughts about a certain guitar player either. That you doubt, but you could try. You yawned and groaned. Fuck it you’re leaving.

“Of all the people I thought I might see tonight,” a familiar voice said before you could get inside.

That voice made you stiffen. Then you started groaning as you turned to face him. “As if my night couldn’t get any worse. What are you even doing here?”

“What you think you’re the only one that gets invited to parties?” He asked.

When you’d parted from your last band, it wasn’t exactly the nicest situation. You always made your rule clear even if you’d broke it with Colin. Even with him it’s not like he did what Andrew did.

Things had been going okay with them, but it was nothing like now. This time around it felt so real. Like musically you were meant to be. Maybe that’s why you didn’t want to ruin things by blowing up even if Colin was sending you enough mixed signals to write an album about.

Back then though. It wasn’t like this. Yeah you liked your other bandmates back then, but with Colin, Ryan, and James it almost felt like a family. You all meshed. You all got along. Despite everything going on you loved them.

With Andrew’s band there was never a connection. You played. You went home. Over and done with. So the night he corned you, trying to kiss you it came out of nowhere. When you told the rest of them didn’t care. You were replaceable. Then you saw that flyer and decided to say fuck it and quit.

“What are you doing here?” He asked now, taking out a cigarette.

You shrugged. “That’s none of your business.”

He scoffed. “Heard you guys got signed. Who’d you sleep with to manage that?”

“Well, it wasn’t you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Who you here with? The new guys you’re blowing?”

You clenched your jaw before taking a deep breath. He didn’t know. Who the fuck cares. So you started walking away because you really did not give two shits.

“Yeah, my friend Dina was telling me you fucked her ex,” he said.

Your back stiffened as you stopped. Closing your eyes. God you wanted to scream at him, but he wasn’t worth the trouble. Wasn’t worth causing a scene. That’s what you told yourself last time and that’s what you were telling yourself now.

“Yeah said she walked in on you too,” he said coming up behind you.

“Dina doesn’t know what what she’s talking about.” You took a deep breath then bit your tongue, but still didn’t turn to face him.

“Well she sure had a lot to say. About how much of a whore you turned into after being a little tease.”

You closed your eyes suddenly feeling sick. You shouldn’t let it get to you. You knew it but fuck. This is why you didn’t do this. You didn’t need the drama.

“Dude, fuck off,” you finally said wrapping your arms around yourself as tried walking away again, trying to tune out whatever shit was spewing out of his mouth.

Promising yourself that you wouldn’t cry. Eyes finally catching Colin’s as he did a grin spread and then quickly fell from his face. Standing around the same girl from earlier. At least he managed to keep up with her.

He started walking towards you without a word and seeing his way was the only way towards the exit there was no avoiding him. That’s when you felt fingers grabbing at your wrist. Twisting your arm so you had no choice but to face him.

In between the, “you little sl-“ and Colin pushing him away from you, you’d ended knocking into someone. Beer spilling on the front of your dress. Way to make a shitty moment even worse guys. This was a fucking loan. Thanks for that. Fuck tonight just wasn’t your night huh.

“I’m so sorry,” a drunk girl slurred, putting her hands on your shoulders.

“No it’s okay,” you sighed feeling your eyes prickle with tears. Fuck you hated it. Your chest suddenly feeling tight. You had to get the fuck out of here.

As soon as you made it to the elevator you took a deep breath. Closing your eyes and leaning down the wall as the doors closed.

“What the hell was that?” Colin said. You squeezed your eyelids. The little bit of frustration that had left, coming back in an instant. “Did he hurt you?” He asked, grabbing your hand. “What the hell happened?”

“Stop,” you said, snatching it away. “Just… stop.” Your heart felt like it was sinking into your chest. You just wanted to eat and shower snd sleep. Fine fuck it. Shower and sleep. You’ll eat in the morning. You just wanted Colin to stop following you and for him to shut up.

“Hey!” He stopped you as soon as you got off. “What’s wrong? Just tell me what happened.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “You don’t have to pretend to care okay.” You shrugged. “You weren’t thinking about me ten minutes ago.”

“What do you mean I was looking all over for you,” he said furrowing his eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes again. Ugh it felt like you couldn’t stop. “Yeah, it sure looked like it.”

“I was. You can ask Ryan and James. Alyssa was helping me.”

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid, Colin?” You asked raising your eyebrow. “I get it. We messed around and you’re a fuckboy or whatever. It’s not like I was expecting to be different or something. You do this all the time. That’s fine but you don’t have to pretend like you give a shit. And I’m the fucking idiot for thinking you would because I thougt-” your voice broke as you just shook your head and walked away.

Colin stood there looking stunned. Feeling like he was one second away from puking. Finally taking a deep breath when he realized that if he didn’t catch up to you know you’d get into a taxi without him.

“Wait, Y/N,” he called out.

But you didn’t turn around. Heart thumping in your chest. You blew out your cheeks and rested your head against the window. Feeling there was a lump in your throat.

You felt like such a baby. All teary eyed in a cab. Red eyed as you made your way to your room. Crying in the shower. Then not stopping as you settled into bed. And for what. You fucking up the one thing you always told yourself. Listening to your stupid vagina. And your heart as much as you hated to admit it.

Not only was it stressful to think about what this would do for the band, but you and Colin had really built up the best connection. Now what happens. You’re not gonna get that with someone else. And that was the worst part.

Your eyes were so heavy, but you were suddenly so awake. All that complaining about being tired. Now look you can’t even sleep. Your head felt too heavy. Nose too stuffy, too.

You scrolled through your phone. And may or may not have done a small dive into who this Alyssa girl could be. Then message after message started rolling in now that it was a little passed midnight. You’d get to them in the morning. You’d also stole his weed pen so you could relax a little bit.

So. Sucks to be him.

That’s when you heard the door open. Stomach flipping and mouthing, ‘fuck.’ Dropping your phone because if you could pretend you were asleep maybe he’d leave you fuck alone. Ugh he probably got the key from the front desk.

The television was still on and it’s not like he’d never walked in on you sleep in front of the TV before so he’d think nothing of it. Your back was facing the door so it’s not like he could see you. You’ll take your chances.

You heard crinkling and him shuffling a little, but you were mostly trying to be quiet. A few moments later you heard him getting down on his knees beside you. “Hey,” he whispered into your ear before kissing your temple.

Nope. Go away.

“I know you’re awake you little thief.” He chuckled, but then stopped when he realized you clearly weren’t giving in. Turning over away from him. Colin took a deep breath. “Babe, I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrow raised. Okay so maybe you weren’t expecting that.

“I’m sorry I lost you tonight,” he sighed. “I’m sorry for not talking about things sooner. And if I made you think there was anything going on with me and Alyssa. Who does not like me by the way. She’s into Ryan,” he added, with a chuckle.

You snorted out a laugh. “Seriously?” Finally breaking your silence.

“Uh huh.” He laughed. “I know right. They kept dragging me between them once he found out. I felt like I was in fucking middle school.”

Then it got quiet.

“I’m sorry if I made you think you were just a booty call,” he finally said.

Your eyes opened, but you still didn’t turn to face him. You weren’t really sure what you were supposed to say or do if you did.

“You have always been more than a booty call. I get that I’ve done things before, but I’d never treat you like that. Why do you think we haven’t had sex. I couldn’t have our first time be on that gross fucking couch.”

… fair.

Ugh.

UGH.

You wanted to pull his hair. Not even in the sexy way. He was so annoying. Why couldn’t you just have been asleep so you could have been mad at him for a little longer.

Colin didn’t wait for you to respond as he got in behind you. Scooping you into his arms from behind. “You’re my best friend, Baby. I’d never fuck us up. I don’t wanna lose you.” Then he started kissing your cheek softly.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumbled, but still didn’t turn over.

“Maybe,” he said. “But it’s cuz I can’t stand when you’re mad at me.” He sighed wrapping you up in his arms. “Remember that one time? And it was just over lyrics.” He chuckle. Then when he realized you weren’t laughing he sighed again. “I promise I’ll make tomorrow better. Well today. Or whatever. You know what I mean.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t run in here on some I have to be the first shit.” You finally turned to look at him and he was quick to kiss your forehead. Eyes ask puffy. Nosy really stuffy. He didn’t care. Just wanted to have his lips on you.

“I am, but now I can’t stop apologizing.” He chuckled. “I really am sorry.”

“We can work on your road to forgiveness plan.”

“As long as you’re the one paving it I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so corny.”

“Maybe.” He chuckled. “I’m just trying to get you to smile.”

You sniffled. God he was so annoying. “I know.”

He looked at you softly before swiping his lips across yours. “Okay now I’m gonna be the first person. Happy birthday, Baby.”

Another sniffle as you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling softly. “Thank you. How do you know you’re the first?”

“Oh you’re cool because all our little fan girls are wishing you a happy birthday,” he said with a laugh.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Never. You deserve it.”

“Stop being such a fucking sap right now.” You whined pushing him away.

“Nope. I actually have a surprise for you,” he said, letting go so he could get out of bed. “No peeking!” Then he kissed your cheek again.

Of course you weren’t gonna listen, but since he wasn’t made of glass you couldn’t see. His body blocking whatever view you may have had. Just heard the flicker of a lighter.

“So, I was gonna go with the old fashioned flowers and chocolate for an apology,” he started. “But since it’s your birthday,” he said as he turned around with a little cake in his hands, freshly lit numeral candles on top.

As he softly started to sing happy birthday you felt yourself tearing up again. Of course he had to do something like this. Sappy asshole. Just had to make it impossible to stay mad at him.

Now you were sitting with your legs criss crossed applesauce across from him. Not being able to help the smile that spread across your face.

“Make a wish, Baby,” he said. As you blew out the flame he looked at you softly. That same stupid romantic look in his eyes. And it was like you couldn’t help yourself as you started to lean in. Lips connecting and it almost felt relieving.

Colin pulled away for a minute to set the cake on the night stand. Going back to you he pull you onto his lap. Lips moving against yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck then put your hands in his hair.

He laid you down. Thumb stroking your cheek. Tongues finally meeting. Kisses deep. Now sleep was the farthest thing from your mind. You just wanted to feel him.

All of the thoughts about how that was it had melted away. If he was going to be serious about this than you wanted it. Wanted him. “Colin,” you whimpered. His lips going against your throat.

“What do you want, Baby?” He asked in a whisper.

“You.”

Clothes started to be removed. Hands and lips going to intimate spots. Like between your legs as he made sure your pussy would be ready for him. His mouth touching you just how you needed. Moans and sighs spilling from your lips.

“Y/N, Baby,” he whispered as he wrapped his arm around your leg so he could spread you open for him. Getting snug between your thighs as he lined himself up. “You sure? We don’t have-“

You cut him off with a kiss. He obviously got the message as he started to push into you. The head of his cock already making your head spin.

“Colin,” you whimpered against his lips.

“That’s it,” he said. “It’s okay. I got you.”

You nodded and moaned, foreheads resting against each other. Looking into those soft blue eyes as he inched in. “Ah,” you squeaked.

“You’ve got this,” he whispered into your ear as he finally bottomed out. Staying still for a moment so you could could used to him. Fuck he was big. You don’t think you’d ever felt this full before.

Hips rocking slowly as his lips went back to yours again. “Colin,” you whimpered again.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered as he looked down at you.

“More?”

“Tell me what you do want, Baby. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Harder. Please.” Fuck you felt desperate. He was just filling you up so good. Just how you needed him.

He pressed his lips to yours as he started getting deeper. Rolling his hips into yours. Then pushing your arm above your head with his hands holding yours down.

“Right there!” You pulled away with a gasp.

“Where?” He asked into your ear not stopping what he was doing before pulling your earlobe between his teeth. Nibbling on it. Making your eyes go blurry.

“Oh,” you let out another little squeak. That wasn’t good enough for Colin, though. He wanted you to scream his name.

He raised up off of you. Getting on his knees and pushing your legs up by your ears. Hands on the back of your thighs.

Every time he went in, your body bounced from the force. Pussy squeezing him tight. He looked between you seeing the way your wetness covered him. “Fuck,” he groaned. “Pussy even prettier with my dick in it.”

Why was he doing this to you. Was it not enough that he was about to turn you inside out? He had to talk to you like that too. Why was he trying to ruin you like this. He was fucking you like he wanted to be the only man to fuck you. Maybe he did. Maybe you wanted him to be.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah!” You cried out

“That’s it. That’s what I like to fucking hear. Doing so good for me, Baby,” he groaned. “Gonna fuck you all night. Keep you full a me. Want that?”

“Uh huh,” was all you could say. Your orgasm was hitting you so hard. “Colin. I’m cumming.” It was like you were weeping. “Oh my god.”

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned as your pussy tightened around him. Orgasm gushing out of you. “That’s my girl,” he said as he put his hand on your clit. Coaxing it out even more. “Keep cumming for me, Baby. That’s it.”

It happened so quickly. One minute he was fucking into you and then the next his face was between your thighs. If he was trying to make you squirt he got his wish. Your legs shaking, body spasming as he forced you there.

You covered your eyes with your hand just as he pushed back into you. Where he grabbed your arm to push it up so you were no longer covered. “Don’t you ever cover yourself, you hear me,” he said as he started fucking into you again. “I want you to look at me when I make you cum.” He put his lips against your chin.

Fuck. This was gonna be a long night.

You don’t know how many times you’d orgasmed. Just that it felt like once they started they didn’t stop. Just the way he was getting you there and trying to keep you there was almost too much. As soon as he came in you, you were ready to pass out. Your body officially worn out. But forced yourself to use the bathroom before bed even though walking really didn’t seem like a great option at the moment.

Then you got back in his arms. Snuggling into him. Colin holding you tight. It felt like where you were supposed to be.

As the sunlight broke, you were so worn out that you stayed like that for a minute. Him waking up first with your head tucked under his chin. Yawning and checking the time. Not that he cared. He’d stay like this for as long as you wanted him to.

When you started to stir, he nuzzled you with his nose. Kissing your forehead gently. “Morning, Birthday Girl,” he whispered in a raspy voice.

You moaned and stretched. Putting your head in his neck again. “Not yet.”

He chuckled. “We have to get to brunch.”

“There’s always dinner. I’m tired.”

He smacked your butt. “No, no, no. I’m not letting you sleep the day away. I gotta make up for yesterday.”

“Make up for yesterday by being my pillow. And we can have sex in between.”

Colin laughed softly. “As tempting as that is, we gotta get up.”

You took a deep breath out your nose. “Fine, but I get to pick off your plate.”

“When do you not?” He rubbed your back. Colin reached over to grab his phone to check the time. “Wait, what the fuck,” he chuckled.

“What?” You asked, with a yawn.

“James said, ‘I’m happy for you guys really but we’re going to breakfast without you if you don’t hurry up. Happy birthday y/n.”

You laughed. “What?”

“The one before it was stop having sex we’re hungry. Ryan said, ‘Colin stop being the Yoko Ono of this ba-‘I’m the Yoko On- oh now they’re fighting about it.”

You snorted. “They’re gonna argue about this all day, aren’t they?”

“Yeah probably.” Colin laughed.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

#Colin Shea smut #chris evans smut #Colin Shea x black!reader #Colin Shea x reader #Colin Shea x female!reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black!reader

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