#REALLY makes the closer one look even worse ( more expensive for ONE SONG ONLY) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nyantry · 16 days ago

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"If I say something, do I get to see something?" He joked, but nodded. "I'll let you know if anything."

Dmitry took the coins, stacking and unstacking them, rearranging them just to keep his hands busy while Nico asked his questions. He noticed how Nico kept touching him in some way or another and scooted closer so there was less space between the two of them. His own energy compounded with Nico's anxious worrying, and Dmitry found himself flagging Jeff down for refills and to order that cocktail he'd wanted earlier. Jeff did his job and promptly left the two alone again, not forgetting that they had asked for privacy.

"I know you can shoot without killing," he whispered, queuing Bad Medicine by Bon Jovi, followed by a few other songs from his usual 80s rotation. "You should teach me, or Nova can teach me, whatever," he ate another mozzarella stick, "but that's not the point. I know you can do that, it just wouldn't have been—" Satisfying. It wouldn't have been satisfying. It really was the heart of what Nico was asking, wasn't it? What were you after? What satisfies you? What went wrong? These were not easy questions to answer, though the answers themselves were simple. He looked at Nico's chilly-blue eyes, remembering that one poem:

I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice.

If there was one thing Dmitry knew how to do, other than love, it was to hate — despite his reluctance to admit it. Both emotions came from the same intense passion with which he viewed the world. They were simply flipsides. It wasn't that love and hate were opposites; he did not believe that. But love and hate were the same thing, approached differently. Dmitry knew, as quiet as he held onto it, how to hate. He knew how to deal in ice.

Still in a whisper, only for Nico to hear, and for Nico to hear it better, he continued. "Anyway, it depends." He kissed Nico with a giggle, emotions all over the place, erratic. "I didn't really think shit through, I think, I didn't, like, not like I shoulda done anyway, that's why— I'm really not sure what I thought I was gonna do but normally I'm a lot less like that about it, I mean the only reason you know is cause I told you and no one's caught me, I'm careful. Sometimes I talk to them, sometimes I don't bother, but if they realize they're in trouble, they always start saying shit. Why do you ask?"

Still, he didn't wait for an answer to that. "None of them ever answer why, like... The one question, and yeah I can think of any number of reasons, starting with they obviously like the fact that someone's suffering at their expense, but still, I don't... I don't get it. I guess I just wanna understand why. Some of them, I ask. Others, I don't even bother, not everyone's got useful answers and I don't always feel like talking to them anyway. I either get rid of them, or sometimes I just want— They deserve to suffer, they deserve every second of it. They deserve more than I'm willing to do, even I have lines I won't cross, even I have things I won't do, but they deserve what they get, and worse. Sometimes, I just. Shoot." He held a finger gun to Nico's temple, looking at him intensely and with his lips pulling into a grin. "That's how I killed my father."

He dropped the finger gun and looked around at the other tables, assessing how many people had come and gone since they'd arrived at Jeff's bar. Then he kept talking.

"Other times I make them beg. Take them away somewhere they can scream without being heard, somewhere they won't be found in this century, and take my sweet time. I like knives, but... I've tried different things. It's strange how much you can get away with before it's actually deadly. This one deserved something more like that, long and slow, and painful. I can't do it like this, though, it's gonna have to wait, and that's worse. I might have to just shoot him, after all."

He was angry. Nico's unspoken guess was right, too. Dmitry was avoiding retelling the words because the words had triggered the PTSD and that had been what caught him off-guard. It made his blood boil that something so simple could fuck shit up that bad. That's what he had been stewing about before calling Nico.

It was personal, too. The general idea he'd been conveying without saying it in such exact words was that it was personal, and it was revenge. He could give any number of excuses, and it could fulfill any number of purposes —even God-give ones, as Sammy had suggested previously— but ultimately, it was very personal. This was his way of getting the upper hand and trying to reclaim something he couldn't quite put a word to, something he'd felt had been forcefully ripped away from him and never returned. In speaking, he had said a lot of nothing, sparing details because he felt so intensely the actual emotions behind what he was trying to describe he'd do. Nico was right, Dmitry still had fight mode in his veins, and he wasn't able to filter much through that. He was also bitten by the intensity. Half of him wanted nothing more than to ditch the conversation and tend to the seemingly more urgent need for fucking Nico and expending all that energy that was keeping him uncomfortable with sitting still for so long. The other half wanted to screw it all, find the asshole that had gotten away, and make him pay. He was willing to die for it.

"So it depends. You could help me," he offered. "Or you could distract me. You're good at that too," he pointed out.

"I will take that raincheck."

As for his ribs and him saying it hurt to breathe Nico hemhawed his head back and forth. "We'll just keep an eye on it. If it starts to get worse just say something." They were more die and start over people than treat and save this body people, so Nico more just wanted to be on alert.

"I would. I'd wear the Croc Martins for you."

Nico swiped one cheese stick from the plate when it arrived munched while he settled in. "Oh, Ripley. Good one." He was impressed with that idea on the spot. Then he fished around in his pocket for more juke box money while Dmitry told his tale.

Nico listened. Basically he was getting the stake out wasn't too planned. He approached at random and winged it. Nico was a little disappointed Dmitry left out the dialogue. Just because asshole talk was bullshit didn't mean Nico wasn't curious how the negotiations for the actual altercations went down. Suffering as far as he was concerned usually wasn't in the physical. Dmitry even explained a gunshot would be too nice. Nico was more of mind game person but he also knew Dmitry's end goal. So, he was trying to understand what Dmitry's goals were since he never got to witness this stuff. Was it going to be slow and intense physical torture or what?

He liked the moment the guy realized Dmitry knew what he'd done. He liked the idea of picturing the guy's shocked face. Nico wished he knew details of the conversation. All the vagueness was diluting the story just a bit but he understood his partner's mind was still fired and fresh on fight. Dmitry was in fight mode. He was tuning everything else out.

"So hivebrain got the drop on you with a pair of kicks and ran." He shrugged. It sounded about right to him. That's what a good heel on a boot was for.

He did want Dmitry to understand. "Damn babe. There's more than one way to use a weapon though." He shook his head at the whole concept of a bullet being too merciful. He was sure that point of view was missing the point of having the weapon. "You don't have to use it for the killshot. That's what Mom used to train us to do. Our drills were to learn to gain control of a situation or incapacitate. You put someone in a check. Then you can play with your food all you want. Not saying you have to, just saying if you want to learn the Nova method, I got you covered."

He still believed a weapon would have done him some good. However, he wasn't the sort to linger on the shoulda, woulda, couldas. He was more about what Dmitry needed now.

"So, okay explain to me something just so I understand the goal. Do you talk to them at all? What kind of shit does hivebrain say? Or do you just try to get them alone to kill them slowly? How much torture are we talking? Because this seemed like you just pinned him against the wall with no weapons, so when you say a gunshot would be to nice for him, what kind of ends are usual punishment for this assholery of a crime? How drawn out are these deaths? Do you drag them to a designated location? Or what?" He kept lowering his voice not that anyone was listening. "But it sounds like you're insinuating you're doing more than just eliminating them from repeat offending."

He wondered if questions like this is why Dmitry never talked about it. Maybe hivebrain triggered his ptsd? But, Nico was just trying to a full grasp on what was actually happening on usual hits, versus this hit gone wrong, versus an ideal hit.

"Sorry, not trying to make you relive too much. Just trying to grasp here."

He kept swinging his feet under the table and rubbing his ankle against Dmitry's and leaning his calf against him. Throughout the talk Nico would do that, keep finding ways to stay connected. If his leg moved off a hand might move across and touch a wrist to make up for it, or a palm on the back of his shoulder blade. He was always doing things like wiping the water ring if Dmitry moved the glass on the table to make sure his space was clear and tidy.

#iconoclast infidels

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erodasfishtacos · 4 years ago

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The Brits Dilemma

” Prompt: Harry & Y/N go to the Brits. It’s the first time they’ve been away from their baby. Y/N is struggling but doesn’t want to ruin the night for her husband.

Word Count: 1.8 k +

Warnings: Depictions of breastfeeding

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The award show was going well. It was the first time Y/N had been out in nearly three months besides a few brunch dates and grocery shopping.

Usually, she was pretty confident in what she wore to accompany her husband to all of these flashy events - but not tonight.

Her bump had deflated but she was still attempting to get rid of the stubborn pouch that stayed after the baby had been born. It wasn’t anything out of the norm - just still trying to lose it.

She was breastfeeding and her breasts were much larger than before. They felt heavy and too big for her body. Not to mention, they were constantly swollen and achey. Pads were a must so she doesn’t leak through the tight satin black dress.

The dress was a beautiful custom design by Gucci that complimented Harry’s sharp suit but nothing felt right. It was digging into her sides and made it hard for her to sit on her chair.

The Brits were held in the O2 Arena which wasn’t very far from their London home but she felt like she was lightyears away from her baby. Even though she knew Sasha was in good hands with Anne.

Y/N was so proud of Harry for being up for five - yes, five different awards. It was a record for him and she didn’t want to let him down by complaining. It was his night. He’s been such a devote father - he deserved a break too.

So she swallowed down the anxiety she was feeling about being away from their little newborn for the night along with her worries about her changing body.

There was milling about between the tables before the show got started. Harry had people coming up him constantly - congratulating him on the album, the nominations, the baby.

Married life and fatherhood suited him well. A dazzling wedding band on his left ring finger, a necklace with an S for his daughter, along with her name freshly inked on right above his butterfly tattoo.

The open jacket he wore with is his barely buttoned dress shirt displayed it proudly. It was beautiful, done delicately in a timeless cursive. The font match his wife name that was tattooed on his hand.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t excited to have a night out with his wife. He had Jeff booked a hotel for the night to have some alone time with you while his mum got to enjoy a night with her only grandchild.

Y/N was counting down the hours up until tomorrow when she could go home to see her baby. She should really tell Harry that she wants to go home and not out to a club and the hotel.

But the it just slowly starts to deteriorate further when a bald, plump business exec comes to greet the two of you. He gives his warm wishes about the birth of your child before smiling at Y/N and stating, “The baby weight will come off soon enough.”

Her throat closes up a bit and she self-consciously tries to push her chair closer to the table. It was the last thing that she needed to hear. Confirming all of her worst insecurities.

Harry glares at the man before turning to his wife, “Hey, you look s’perfect, my love. I’m so bloody lucky you’re mine.”

He’s truly trying his hardest to bring a smile to her face but he notices it’s never quite meeting her eyes.

It get even worse when Harry gets his first award, male solo artist of the year.

As she’s standing and clapping for him - she realizes she’s beginning to leak through her nipple inserts.

Y/N excuses herself in the middle of his acceptance speech to rush through the string of tables - out into the corridor. The last thing she wanted to do was for it to show up on a very expensive dress.

The echo of his voice can still be heard, “Love to thank my beautiful wife who makes writing sappy love songs easy and was the main inspiration for my recent album. She also just gave birth to our beautiful baby.....”

She feels awful when she tunes him out, finding the bathroom and hurriedly rushing in. There’s a gorgeous woman standing at the sink, washing their hands.

Fucking Taylor Swift.

Any other time it’d be awkward and uncomfortable - running into an ex who wrote multiple songs about her husband.

But she couldn’t careless right now, “Hi, erm, this is really weird but could you unzip my dress? I’m leaking and - shit that was way too much information.”

But Taylor smiles kindly, “No! It’s okay, totally. No worries. Congratulations on your baby - you look so hot tonight.”

Y/N laughs and thanks her for unzipping the dress before going into a stall and locking the door. She slides her bra straps off her shoulders and disposes of the soaked pad in the sanitary bin.

Luckily, she has a clean burp rag that she gently swipes at her breast - wincing as it brushes against her swollen nipples. Even the soft fabric felt too rough on them.

It’s a minute or two before the bathroom door swings open, “Y/N? Lovie? Are you in ‘ere?”

She feels guilt at the panic in his voice. Managing to croak out, “I’m in here,” before leaning forward to unlock the door.

Harry waste no time in sliding into the stall before latching the lock again. Taking in the sight of his wife in front of him.

“I-I started leaking, M’sorry,” Y/N whispers, she has no reason to feel embarrassed but she is. “I missed your speech.”

“None of that, baby. I’ll give more speeches for you to hear - I only care that you’re okay. I’m sorry y’leakin, lemme help you, pet.”

In true Harry fashion, he takes the rag and turns on the sink - running it under warm water before carefully cleaning his wife up.

“Are they botherin’ you? They look irritated and super swollen, darling,” Harry frowns, a very gentle thumb coming to brush against her nipple. Then cupping her swollen breast in his hand, thumb rubbing at the pink skin.

“Just a little bit,” She lies, they’re absolutely on fire with chafing and skin irritation from the bra she’s wearing. She never thought she’d miss her nursing bras and sports bras this much.

He nods and helps place new inserts in her bra. Who’d think this is what Harry would be doing between accepting awards. Everyone unassuming in the arena.

Harry has been four for four thus far into the ceremony. They’d only had him go up and give two acceptance speeches. His hand firmly planted on his wife’s thigh throughout.

When he went up for his second award, the camera zooms in and the crowd coos are he plants a kiss on his wife’s lips before pulling her into a hug - whispering something into her ear the audience can’t hear.

He was much more focused on his wife. He could read her fairly well - he’d like to think. Enough to know she’s having much fun. But he didn’t want to bring it up and make her feel bad.

Harry sees the way she keeps adjusting her bra, fidgets with his rings when his hands in his lap, and not even really looking up while one of her favorite artist - Dua Lipa -performs.

Y/N loved a good party before the baby. So Harry was hoping going to the Brits afterparty would make her feel better and then going back to their hotel room for a some alone time.

Y/N has been increasingly quiet when they’re exiting the arena after the final award artist of the year - which Harry had also won.

He was on cloud nine and admittedly a little distracted as he joked and laughed with a small group of friends on the way out.

“Alright, should we all just pile into a cab for the ride to the party?” Nick Grimshaw asks everyone.

Everyone is in agreement - including Harry -as he calls to order one - standing in the blocked off area away from fans and paparazzi.

Y/N wants to tell him she wants to go home to Sasha but when she hears him say, “Can’t wait to get to Exhibit - haven’t been there in forever. One of my favorite clubs.”

She bites her tongue. Harry is enjoying his night out - why can’t she?

In the taxi, she’s sat on Harry’s lap as they make their way to the club. His one hand is on her inner thigh and the other is on her waist holding her steady.

In the morning, she’ll blame her post-partum hormones and anxiety. But she doesn’t even realizing her eyes are filling with tears and when she blinks they spill down her face.

She wouldn’t feel as embarrassed if she wasn’t in the car full of literal celebrities who are filled with adrenaline and excitement. Chattering and drinking from little liquor bottles they’d snuck in their jackets and clutches.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Rita Ora asks from her seat - noticing the streaks ruining your makeup.

She nods pathetically, wiping at her eyes but Harry is turning her to face him. His bright green eyes filled with concern as he studies her face.

The previously very obnoxiously loud cab becomes silent as they try to give the couple a semblance of non-existent privacy.

“What’s happening, dove? Are you hurting?” Harry panics, coming to wipe the smeared makeup away.

“I don’t want to go to the club,” Y/N sniffles, squeezing her eyes shut at how embarrassed she is of her behavior. She would usually never act this way - especially in public. And Harry knows that so it makes him even more concerned.

“That’s okay, pet. We can go have a night in, when the cab stops - we can uber back to the hotel,” Harry soothes, surprised when that brings on fresh tears.

“N-no, I want to go home. I miss the baby, I want to- need to see our baby. I-I can’t do this. My anxiety is through the roof, Harry. What if she can’t sleep? Or isn’t taking the bottle?”

“Baby, breathe, breathe. We can go home. I miss the bub terribly too. Have been worried about her all night.”

Harry tugs his wife into his chest further - tucking her head into his neck as he shoots his friends grateful looks. They all nod, sympathetic and understanding - despite them not having kids of their own.

“I ruined your night,” Y/N says softly in the back of the uber home. “I leaked during the show; cried in front of all your friends.”

Harry takes her chin gentle but firm until she meets his gaze, “You didn’t ruin anything f’me. All I care about is you and the baby - not some stupid award ceremony or party.”

He continues on, “You just gave us Sasha three months ago - y’bloody amazing. Best mum, best wife. Sexiest too - know you don’t think that right now but your body literally grew my baby. I get a hard-on everytime I see you.”

They both laugh, Y/N leaning forward to capture her husbands lips in a meaningful kiss of gratitude and thanks.

Anne smiles kindly when the two of them arrive home. A very fussy, red-faced swaddled baby coddled in her arms.

“She hasn’t settled for quite a while now - she missed her parents very much,” Harry’s mum tells them, transferring her into her father’s arms. He’s automatically rocking and running his thumb over her cheek.

“Ooh, we missed you. Was Nana nice to you?” Harry coos. Sasha has already quieted and is blinking tearfully up at her smiling father.

“Such a good girl, best girl,” Y/N sighs, leaning in to kiss her downy hair. Harry’s hand coming to wrap around his wife’s waist as they peer down at their perfect little daughter.

Anne smiles at his son and daughter-in-law fawning over their little creation with so much love and adoration.

After a minute of chatting -Harry’s mum makes her way up to the guest room after a long night with a miserable baby. They make their way to their room where Y/N strips out of her tight dress and awful bra.

She sits against the headboard in just a pair of soft cotton panties. Harry is gently shushing her and humming a melody as his wife gets situated. He knew she was anxious to feed the baby.

“That’s it my sweet thing. Y’missed us, hm? We missed you too, bub. Nana said y’wouldn’t take the bottle. Only want your mumma, hmm?” Harry coos, kissing her chubby cheeks.

He’s then giving Y/N the baby, who ferociously latching within seconds and begins eating like she’d been starved for the last week. Making weak little rumbles as she does so.

They both giggle fondly, Y/Ns fingers come to touch her fluttering cheek - memorizing her over and over again.

Harry gets onto the bed and settles next to the both of them. Watching his baby feed in amazement at what his wife was capable of. He smears a few kisses against her bare shoulder - hand on his baby’s back.

How strong she was - as he knew it had to be at least a little bit painful with how irritated her nipples had been. He can tell when she winces every once in a while.

He plants a few more kisses to her warm skin - noticing her eyes getting a bit droopy as Sasha feeds at a slow, suckling pace.

“If I’m being honest, being with you - watching you feed our baby...I’d rather be here than at any club.”

Y/N snorts, rolling her eyes, “Sure.”

Her husband frowns, “M’serious, this is all I need, baby.”

“I love you, congratulation on all your Brits,” Y/N murmurs, pecking at his lips.

“I love you too. I meant it, during my speeches. I wouldn’t have been able to write those songs if you hadn’t inspired me. You’ll and the bab will always be the best muse.”

#Harry Styles #harrystylesfanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles drabble #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #dad!harry #dad harry styles #husband!harry #husband harry styles #fic recommendation #harry styles fic rec #harry styles masterlist #harry styles writing request #harry styles request #harry styles reader #requests open!

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harryspet · 4 years ago

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off to the races | s.rogers

[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, stripper!reader, ddlg, daddy!steve, abduction/kidnapping, mafia boss steve, murder/violence, a hint of peter x reader, hint of forced regression, sexy stuff, unprotected sex (wear condoms kiddos), hella angst

A/N: I do not stan lana del rey but I do stan off to the races :)

In which you call the kingpin your Daddy.

word count: 4.9k

main masterlist

taglist: @cherienymphe @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes

God, do they have to play this song every night?

You tried to tune out the annoying pop song, continuing to grind your hips against the man you were giving a small lap dance. You wondered how long you could grind against his beer belly before he finally requested a private dance. Lucky for you, you felt some cash being slipped between the lace of your turquoise, panty set. You turned around, a mischievous smile on your face, as you reached out to grab his tie.

He was mesmerized by you as you expected, and you imagined that he was dying to see more of your scantily clothed body. A hundred dollars for fifteen minutes in a private room. If you could manage to get a few more private dances tonight, you’d consider yourself successful.

You brought him to one of the back rooms and got to work. You let him run his hands over your bottom but once they started to reach between your legs, you knew what to do, “Ah, ah, ah, you know the rules,” You hid your frustration behind your sultry voice. You climbed on his lap, straddling him, as you reached around to undo your top. Beneath the lacy top were your breast but decorated in shiny gemstones.

A lot of the other girls hated glitter and spending time doing stuff like applying tiny gems but you knew that it was another shiny thing for men to look at. You needed their attention. Besides, you didn’t mind the way it looked either. His eyes were wide and he gripped your bottom as you moved your breast, an inch away from his face.

When the fifteen minutes were over, you quickly collected your top and fastened it back on, “Come and see me soon, baby,” You said something of that nature, all your words blurred together by the end of the night.

You managed to get about four more private dances and as one a.m. approached, you were ready to be anywhere else but here. You headed underneath the neon exit sign, heading for the locker rooms, where it seemed a lot of girls were on their way out. You passed naked, sweaty bodies, and clouds of spray deodorant as you made your way to your locker, already slipping out of your tall heels.

The first thing you pulled out was your money bag and you were careful when you were counting each dollar bill, tucking it away nicely. You felt a tap on your shoulder, turning around to see Wanda, red lollipop in one hand, and a white check in the other. Your eyes widened as soon as you read the number, “I’m missing fifty bucks,” You told her.

She gave you a knowing look, “Late fee, Y/N.”

“I was a minute late! I even called and told him my train was late,” Angrily, you stuffed your money bag into your duffle bag.

“He’s not in a good mood, some suit was talking with him earlier,” Wanda shrugged, sensing she had bigger things to worry about. Like you, she made her money dancing and was trying to get by supporting herself, “I wouldn’t argue with him today.”

“Screw that, fifty dollars is the difference between me making rent. He can’t do this,” You slammed your locker closed and you were about to storm off when Wanda grabbed your arm.

“C’mon, we should go. Clint is gonna walk us to the station and he won’t wait for you.”

“I won’t be long,” You shrugged her off, making your way out of the dressing room, and toward Loki’s office. He controlled every part of the Mischief club, set the prices, chose the dancers, and even had a strict list of clientele. It wasn’t the nicest club you’d worked at but it was the closest thing to a consistent paycheck.

You didn’t bother knocking, knowing that you had a point to make and only a certain amount of time to say it, “Fifty dollars! Are you serious-” You stopped in your tracks, realizing that your boss was not alone. Not only was he not alone, but you were also in deep shit. Steve Rogers sat across from the playboy club owner and, looking at the handsome silver-fox, you thought your heart might explode out of your chest.

He’d found you.

He smiled as soon as he saw you, “Babydoll,” A name you’d usually swoon at, made you cringe inside. There he was, clad in an expensive suit and dark overcoat.

Your eyes met with those of Sam and Bucky who had made themselves comfortable by one of the tall bookcases, waiting for their boss to command them to do something. As Steve’s eyes raked over your body, you realized they’d never seen you like this.

“You know her?” Loki leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, an eyebrow raised, “... sir.” He added quickly. You don’t know why you were so surprised by this, knowing that Steve was feared everywhere, and Loki, no matter how evil, wouldn’t be the one to challenge him.

“I saw you perform tonight,” Steve spoke to you and, in his mind, you imagined that you were the only one he was seeing right now, “You looked beautiful.”

You hadn’t realized that you probably looked like you’d just seen a ghost. You tried to let go of some of the tension in your body, “What are you doing here?” You tried to keep your voice from faltering and, considering that you were half-dressed, you tried not to let your insecurities overwhelm you.

“As of a few minutes ago, I am the sole owner of the Mischief Club,” Your heart had stopped its pounding and now it was sinking into your stomach, “If you have any grievances with your employer, you can speak to me-”

“This isn’t your side of the city,” Your lip trembled, anger bubbling within you, “Why … y-you . . . Steve, you can’t do this.”

“Every part of this city is mine, Babydoll,” He sighed, standing up from his chair, reminding you of his large, intimidating frame. Reminding you that you were nothing compared to him. You didn’t move as he crossed the room, moving until he was only standing an inch from you, slowly reaching out his hand until he was touching your cheek, “Chasing you made me realize that I should expand my influence. A club like this is a shit hole now but, in a few months, I’d make it a cash cow.”

“Once you run drugs through the place, you mean,” He tensed up for a moment and you realized you’d struck a chord. His hand was on your throat, his thumb brushing over your cheek, and a piercing gaze burning holes into your skin.

“I wouldn’t worry your pretty little head over it,” For a moment, you closed your eyes, and imagined wrapping your arms around him. He’d become your haven so quickly and you’d almost forgotten how it felt for someone to care so much for you. Love you even when you didn’t want to love yourself. When you opened them again, you realized what he meant by his words.

He wasn’t giving you a choice.

You stepped back, letting his hand fall back to his side, before you crossed your arms, “Things aren’t going back to the way they were.”

Much to your surprise, Steve nodded, “No, I made some mistakes. Letting you go being the biggest one.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re dangerous, Steve, and I want nothing to do with it.”

“And this is safer, Y/N?” He raised his voice, “Men having their grimy hands all over you . . . I’m taking you home.”

“I can take care of myself!”

“Really?” He smirked condescendingly, and you imagined he was seeing you as a bratty child throwing a tantrum, “He-” He stepped to the side, and pointed a finger at Loki, “-was going to lay you off a week from now. The club went under a long time ago and he was going to take your hard-earned money and run, leaving you with nothing. What would you do then?”

Loki stood up, interrupting, a nervous smile on his face, “Not with nothing. I-I pay all the ladies very well and I would like to continue to do that . . . that’s why I’m so grateful for your generosity, Mr. Rogers-” He cleared his throat awkwardly. He was lying through his teeth.

“You won’t be paying them anymore, Mr. Laufeyson,” Steve spoke calmly, too calmly, and as his hands reached up to his waist belt, you suspected the worse.

“Steve-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Loki rushed out his words as Steve pointed his favorite silver handgun in his direction, “We had a deal!”

“Steve, don’t!” Panicked, you grabbed a hold of his strong arm. As soon as you saw him, you knew the night wouldn’t end good but death was not something you predicted. Before, he’d never show you the violent side of his world. Now, something had changed, “Steve, please don’t!”

“Come with me,” He spoke sternly, “Come home and I won’t.”

“Okay,” You said immediately, looking up at his unchanging expression. He didn’t move which only panicked you further, “I will! Steve, please don’t.”

“He’s not a good man. He’s been using you this whole time,” Steve said, finally turning to look at you. Your body was shaking, the idea of being so close to the gun was frightening you further, “You’d give yourself up for this scumbag?”

Though it made you more anxious, you moved closer to him, grabbing a hold of his free hand. With your other arm, you hugged his torso, and as he stared down at him, “I-I don’t want you to hurt anyone, Daddy,” You spoke softly, “ . . . please, Daddy?” Something softened in his features as you called him by his favorite nickname. He squeezed your smaller hand and, for a moment, you thought things might be okay.

The sound was deafening when Steve pulled the trigger. Although you couldn’t hear anything, you knew you were screaming, and that you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to open your eyes ever again. He tried to wrap his arms around you and you remembered fighting it, hitting his chest, and screaming even louder. Somewhere along the line, you gave in, he was too strong, letting him wrap his long coat over your scantily clothed figure.

You were breathing heavily and when you decided to open your eyes again, everything was blurry, “Daddy had to . . . I’m sorry . . . Babydoll,” You heard in your ear. You were moving, he was holding you . . . when had he picked you up? When did the car start driving? You wished badly that you’d listened to Wanda.

You remembered holding onto him tighter, crying into his shoulder, “Why?” He heard the pain in your voice, felt the realization that your life would never be the same.

“Because you’re mine,” He rubbed circled into your back, leaving soft kisses on your cheek, “And I needed to remind you of what your Daddy is capable of. Anyone who hurts you, anyone who even lays a hand on you, is going to meet the same fate.”

“I don’t want this,” You hiccuped. Steve didn’t believe you, not with the way you were holding him. “This . . . it’s so scary, S-Steve.”

“I’m sorry I had to scare you, baby,” It reminded him of last year when things were good between you two, and you comfortably moved in and out of little space. He could sense you were dying to go to that safe space and, selfishly, he was hoping the trauma of tonight would push you into that mindset, “Daddy’s going to take better care of you. You’ll live with me now, where you’ll be safe.”

You only closed your eyes, no fight left in you. In the world of Steve Rogers, you didn’t think safety existed.

You awoke in a pink cloud. The sheets were so soft, heavenly even, and it almost made you forget your situation. You felt something crawling on top of the sheets and you sat up quickly, almost giving yourself whiplash. Realizing it was a furry, white creature, you relaxed, “Alpine, you scared me,” The cat crawled into your embrace and you pet it gently, wondering where exactly it’s owner was.

As you looked around what you assumed was your new room, you couldn’t help but be a bit impressed. You almost forgot how well Steve knew you. Elegant white furniture, a canopy bed with white fabric falling from the sides, a huge wardrobe, a bookcase, a mountain of stuffed animals - frogs, elephants, dolphins, practically the entire animal kingdom - and the fairy lights were a nice touch.

Maybe you were more than impressed. Astounded, actually.

“Oh my . . . stars,” You climbed out of the queen-sized bed, cat in your arms, and quickly realized that your lingerie was gone and your glitter had been washed away. Did he give you a bath? While you were sleeping? You dressed in a large t-shirt and as you brought the fabric up to your nose, you realized it was his, “Why didn’t you warn me that he was this off his rocker, Alpine?”

The cat only responded with a quiet meow.

You moved over to the window and, expectedly, it didn’t budge when you tried to push it open. You looked out onto the vast landscape, perfectly manicured rolling hills of green, a garden, Olympic sized pool, beautiful white statues, and armed guards to match.

It was like you remembered though Steve didn’t bring you to his “private home” often. The two of you always met in the city and, what started as an interesting sugar arrangement, quickly blossomed into a new dynamic.

You wandered around the room, examining every detail that he had put into it. You imagined the military man had placed a lot of the objects himself, making sure everything was perfect when you saw it.

The room is also gigantic, you could do at least ten cartwheels from one wall to the other. You’d never imagined living somewhere like this, the room itself was bigger than any place you’d ever lived.

As the door creaked open, Alpine leaped from your arms, taking the opportunity to escape. You watched the creature crawl between Steve’s legs before slipping out, probably going to look for Bucky. As your eyes traveled up his figure, you assumed he’d be dressed down in his home but the businessman was clad in another suit.

You were glad not to be crying anymore but seeing him now was reminding you of the horror show that was last night, “My things, I had money in my bag,” Was the first thing you thought to say, “I want it.”

“You don’t need it,” He said what you assumed he would.

“But-” You stopped yourself, “Can you give it to Wanda, please?”

“Please and thank you?” Steve cocked his eyebrow, smirking, “I wasn’t expecting that from you today.”

You didn’t respond, only crossed your arms defiantly, “I want Wanda to have it.”

“Done,” Steve raised his hands in surrender, “Is that all you want? Can I interest you in breakfast, little one?”

He didn’t know how deeply his words cut into you. How you wanted nothing more than to forget your worries and be his little girl. How you’d probably get on your knees and kindly do anything he asked . . . if this was a perfect world. You tried to shake that feeling because this world was anything but perfect.

“I guess,” Your hunger suddenly crossing your mind.

He nodded, a smile threatening to form on his lips, “Do you want help getting ready?” You quickly shook your head and you assumed he knew that it would be your response, “Well, I picked something out for you. I left it in the bathroom.”

“So what, I’m supposed to . . . wear whatever you want and be your little trophy?”

“And if you sit still and look pretty, Daddy will buy you anything you want,” Your eyes narrowed at him and you looked away, knowing you’d probably burst into flames if you looked at the annoying smirk any longer, “I’ll come to get you in ten minutes.”

You were already walking towards the bathroom, feeling his eyes on you the entire way. The bathroom was even more immaculate than the bedroom, a big chandelier hanging from the tall ceiling, with sleek marble fixtures. You avoided the mirror when the thick makeup came off at the end of the day, so you were shocked seeing your bare face. It made you look . . . innocent. It was the opposite image the club wanted to present.

You found a new toothbrush in one of the drawers and proceeded to brush your teeth, before washing your face.

The dress he’d picked out was frilly and white, a stark but beautiful contrast to your skin. It puffed at the sleeves but grabbed your waist and then flounced out when reaching down to your knees. You did a small twirl, letting the ends of the dress softly caress the tips of your fingers. Realizing you liked it quite a lot made you frown in the mirror.

Most likely, there was no racy lingerie and tassels in that wardrobe. He said you looked beautiful last night but there was no chance he’d let you ever look like that again, especially in front of his men.

When you left the bathroom and realized Steve had not returned, you decided to slip out of the room. You wandered down the big hallway, your bare feet padding against the carpet, as you examined each piece of artwork and decoration. Steve’s taste was expensive but his style was old-fashioned, choosing elegance over flashy things.

You admired it for a second and then remembered the blood spilled, the money stolen, and the dirty things that funded it.

“I thought I said I’d come and get you.”

You turned around, noticing how his breath caught in his throat as he took you in. He was deadly, he killed a man right in front of you, yet he was like a teenager in love when he saw you.

You mentally cursed.

“Are you full?” He asked, looking at your plate of a half-eaten pancake. There was still a feast laid out in front of you which was tempting but you couldn’t help but see it as consuming more of his forbidden fruit.

You only nodded and his lips pressed into a thin line.

He was holding back, you could tell. He wanted to make sure you were fully nourished and he’d probably prefer to feed you himself.

“Eat more,” He added, “Please-”

You stood up abruptly, “I want to look for Alpine,” You made a move to leave the dining room but, as you passed his chair, he grabbed a hold of your wrist. He gripped you stronger as you tried to pull away.

“After you eat more,” He commanded.

“I’m not hungry,” Your eyes didn’t meet his eyes.

“Babydoll, can’t you see I’m trying to play nice?” He tried to hide the venom in his tone, “I could’ve bent you over my knee already for not addressing me properly. Do you want that?”

You shook your head.

“Use your words, please.”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, I don’t want that . . . Daddy.��

When you made a move to go back to your seat, he grabbed your arm tighter, “Sit with me,” He said but his tone was softer than before. You sat down on his knee and, instinctively, his arm wrapped around your torso, holding you in place, “Relax.”

You turned your head closer to him, the familiar feeling of being in his arms led your muscles to relax. He brought pieces of fruit to your mouth and, as you opened your mouth for him, you heard, “Good girl.”

When he first wanted to do things like this with you, he told you to imagine the things you liked when you were younger. You told him that you never had a lot of toys, never got a lot of praise, and that you were always the one taking care of others, not the other way around. What he made you feel was foreign but it satisfied a need you never knew you had.

“You haven’t been eating enough,” He commented. You shrugged and he frowned a bit, “Three meals a day from now on. And snacks. And lots of water.”

“And what if I don’t, Daddy?” You challenged, more playful than you intended.

Steve gave you a look that was much too loving for you to hold his gaze, “How about, if you do, then I’ll give you a reward . . .” His voice trailed off as he thought for a moment, “What would you like?”

“I wanna go back to the city-”

Steve smirked, “Something realistic, preferably,” It took everything in you not to roll your eyes, “A new outfit? . . . A new toy? . . . I know what you want.”

“No, you don’t,” You pouted.

“Stickers,” He answered, proud when he saw you perk up, “Sparkly, butterfly ones probably.”

“I don’t-”

He interrupted your lie, tickling your side, and you tried not to smile, “You love those little things! You’d probably prefer it over a designer bag or a trip to europe.”

“They’re not expensive and I like collecting them,” You tried to explain, your voice low.

“Then that’ll be it. A week of not skipping meals will get you a special sticker for your chart, we’ll even hang it on the fridge.”

You didn’t mind the idea . . . you could have so many stickers after a long while.

“A week,” You repeated, “How long do you expect for me to stay here?”

“There’s lots to do, you won’t get bored,” He spoke dismissively, probably frustrated by your question. You opened your mouth to respond but was interrupted when the table started shaking, Steve’s phone vibrating on top of it.

“Rogers,” Steve answered, pressing the phone to his ear, “Yes, I’m aware . . you told me that you took care of him . . . I don’t need to tell you how to do your job, you’re just supposed to do it . . . he’ll listen if it comes from me . . . i’ll handle it, okay? . . . Babydoll,” He softly patted your knee, “Why don’t you go look for Alpine?”

You took that as your cue that he was about to start cursing and didn’t want you around to hear it.

An hour later, you were wandering around the garden and Steve still hadn’t tried to find you. You guessed that he was busy with his work now but you were more focused on finding Alpine. You’d search every inch of the inside of the house and now there was only one place left. You realized that you could also start thinking about a way out of this place.

“Here kitty, kitty,” Your eyebrows raised as you heard an unfamiliar voice. You wandered further along the path, trying to look through the greenery, before stumbling upon an opening with a large fountain in the middle. Alpine was walking around the top of it, frustrating the man trying to get him down from such a tall height.

He was one of Steve’s men, you could tell by the dark clothing, though you didn’t recognize him. He was much younger, and honestly, more attractive than a lot of them. You could tell the light had gone out in a lot of the people that Steve kept around. You could already tell he wasn’t like that, “Come on, dude, now you’re just messing with me!”

The cat seemed to brush him off, continuing to walk along the edge.

“You have to be more gentle than that,” You said, knowing you would startle him. It amused you a little how he seemed to jump out of his skin. His hand held over his heart, you could tell he was a bit taken aback by your appearance. You moved toward the fountain, holding your arms out for it, “C’mere, Alpine, the scary man won’t hurt you.”

His eyes were wide as the cat easily jumped into your arms, “He obviously doesn’t like me,” He said, watching as you brushed Alpine’s ears with your fingers, “And yet Bucky always puts me on cat duty.”

“Maybe Bucky is the one that doesn’t like you,” You responded.

He frowned, “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” You walked towards you, encouraging Alpine to climb into his arms. Alpine seemed to listen, welcoming his touch, “He’s never been this nice to me. Are you some kind of animal whisperer?”

You giggled a bit, “I’m Y/N.”

Peter’s mouth formed an “o” shape like he was connecting the dots in his mind, “I-I’m Peter . . . aren’t you like . . . not supposed to be out here?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Am I?” He seemed to panic for a moment, “I mean, I didn’t get the brief that Steve probably gave you all.”

“Right,” He nodded nervously, “Do you . . . should I walk you back to the house?”

“Actually, can you walk me to my room? I don’t think I remember where it was,” You played dumb.

“Yeah, sure,” He agreed.

Perfect. He was perfect. If there was a way out of here, he was it.

You didn’t see Steve until later that night. He was right in the fact that you didn’t get bored, there were a million things to do even in your own room. You’d floated away, your mind now completely occupied by the coloring page you were scribbling on.

As Steve sat on the side of your bed, you felt the weight of his day come down with him. Another reason he kept your arrangement before was because you provided stress relief after a long day. He touched your hair, patting your head, and you turned your head to look at him.

“Did you have lunch?” He asked and you nodded sheepishly, “Dinner?” You nodded again.

“Maria made sure I ate.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to the side of your head, “Good girl. Wanna show me what you’re working on?”

You sat up from your position, moving the picture book into his lap, “It’s me and you,” Steve couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked down at the picture of Belle and the Beast.

“You’re funny,” Steve smiled, his eyes getting those little crinkles at the side.

“Did you end up handling your business?” You asked curiously.

“I did, actually,” He responded, failing to elaborate, “And that’s all you need to know.”

You closed your book, tossing it to the side, and standing up on the bed. You walked over to the pillows and plopped down, “Don’t you think it's a little unfair to hide things? I want to hear a story before bed. Or are your stories too scary?”

You were only teasing him but as he turned over, crawling towards you, your heart began to race, “Did I ever tell you the story about the little girl who always ran her mouth?”

You shook your head, and Steve let you stew a moment longer before he pounced. He grabbed your ankle, pulling you down onto you back, as he climbed on top of you, “Well, she was always mad at her Daddy because he was . . . very protective. Her Daddy had to fix this, of course, he couldn’t have such a naughty little girl trying to boss him around. He didn’t punish her though, he just fucked her until she couldn’t speak.”

“I don’t like this one-” You were interrupted when his lips crashed down on yours.

You felt suffocated by him, trapped beneath his love, until you started to move your lips against his. You must’ve been just as crazy as he was for wanting this.

You gasped for air when he finally pulled away. You watched him hurriedly take off his already unbuttoned, button down, and undo his belt. You were sliding your dress sleeves off, trying to get your panties down your leg. When they were around your ankles, he tore them away, throwing them to the side.

Your lips were on his again, “Steve-” He grabbed your wrist roughly, pinning them above your head with one hand, and he grabbed your face with the other.

“Call me Daddy,” He demanded, sinking between your hips.

“Steve-” You felt a quick sting across your cheek and Steve watched a fire build in your eyes.

“Bad girl,” He sunk his hard member into you, causing your head to tilt back. He was anything but gentle, moving in and out of you with long and hard strokes, “You’re such a bad girl.”

“Tell me you want my cum,” He grunted, breathing hard against your skin, “Tell me.”

“I want your cum,” You rushed out, an orgasm already building as he maintained his pace. You missed this so much. If there was one thing, you missed. He was the first person to ever make you cum without oral sex. Before him, you didn’t even know your body could do this.

“Say it,” He continued, “Say it, little girl.”

He was going to slow down if you didn’t and that was the last thing you wanted, “I want your cum, Daddy,” You gasped out, your body convulsing beneath him, “I want it so bad, Daddy.”

He finished deep inside you, your body tightly wrapping around him, and sweat covering your bodies. You were coming down from the high when the panic set in. Why did you let him do that? And why did you want it?

He was holding you and, as your tears began to fall, he pulled you into him, “It’s okay,” He cooed, “I’ve got ya’. You’re going to be just fine, Babydoll.”

part two

#dark fic #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #steve rogers smut #peter parker x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #mafia!steve rogers #mafia!bucky #captain america x reader #mafia au #bucky barnes #sam wilson #steve rogers #peter parker #wanda maximoff #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #dark marvel #black!reader

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taetaesbaebaepsae · 4 years ago

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Lunar Violence (jjk)

Summary: You’re not a big fan of your best friend’s favorite band, Lunar Violence. Their werewolf gimmick makes you roll your eyes, even if the music isn’t too bad. When she drags you to a concert just as the blood moon rises, though, everything changes.

Warnings: werewolf sex, possessive behavior, choking, knotting, marking, heats and ruts so whatever consent issues you feel are within that realm, unrpotected sex, werewolf dick, abo dynamics

Word Count:7445

Rating: Explicit

You're not normally a fan of gimmicks, particularly with your music. So when your best friend begs you for a solid week to go with her to this concert, you're wary when you do a simple Google search.

Lunar Violence might be the dumbest fucking name for a band you've ever heard, but they certainly seem like they're going for a certain vibe. You'd definitely have been into it when you were a teen, the fake fangs, the facial piercings and torn leather pants, the howling they do at the ends of some of their songs.

The music itself isn't bad, the lead singer is stupid hot and has a smooth low tenor and bedroom eyes.

You flip through only a few of the member pictures before making a decision based on the fact that they're good eye candy, at least.

Your friend Jia jumps up and down excitedly when you tell her and shows you the signs she's made. She's got a thing for the one they call Happy, a lean bassist who has a bright smile and a sexy glare.

"What are with these names? The seven dwarfs? I think they're mixing metaphors."

Jia snorts. "They call the drummer Baby because he's the youngest. It’s not that dumb and the music is really good, you’ll love it, I promise!"

"This is so dumb. You owe me."

"If I get close enough to Happy to make eye contact I'm gonna make him mine and then I'll give you anything you want." Jia says determinedly.

It’s a few weeks before the concert, so you find yourself listening to a few albums and actually getting pretty excited about it. It should be a fun time, get you away from the stress of your every day life, at the least.

You had no way of knowing that the night of the concert would complicate your life tenfold.

“Do we always have to schedule concerts around rutting season?” Namjoon whines after hitting yet another wrong chord on his guitar.

“It’s the best part about this job!” Hoseok grins.

“I can’t fucking concentrate being horny all the time, I agree with Joon,” Yoongi agrees, banging his forehead down on the keyboard.

“Should have called you Horny rather than Lucky,” Seokjin snorts, and Hoseok laughs so hard he nearly knocks over his bass guitar.

Jungkook watches them with a fond smile on his face, his brothers. Not by blood, of course but being the only werewolves in the city made them have an instant connection and camaraderie, and they’d created a pack pretty quickly. The music had come later, they’d all been interested in it, all had some talent and all been blessed with good looks, and after that it was only a matter of who did what and stage names.

Kim Seokjin, with his regal looks and sharp jaw: Prince.

Min Yoongi, with the scar over his left eye he’d gotten scrapping with a grey wolf in the woods behind his house in Daegu as a pup: Lucky.

Jung Hoseok with his easy smile and eager nature: Happy.

Kim Namjoon, always so serious and intelligent: Beethoven.

Park Jimin, with his pretty face and sneaky smirk: Sly.

Kim Taehyung with his sweet nature and affectionate personality: Honey.

Finally, Jeon Jungkook, because he'd been barely old enough to breed when they'd met: Baby.

"Baby hasn't had his first rut yet, yeah?" It's Jimin, smirking, always giving Jungkook grief about something.

Jungkook narrows his eyes and chucks a drumstick at him but it's no use, Jimin catching it in one band and twirling it like a goddamn baton. Jungkook would say Jimin was graceful if he hadn't seen him fall off about a dozen barstools and half a dozen stages, sober even for the latter.

“Kinda late, isn’t it?” Seokjin speaks up, and Jungkook knows he’s teasing but it stings a little, nonetheless.

“He’s only just turned 23. You were two weeks from your 23rd before you ever popped a knot, hyung, or have you forgotten?” Namjoon snarks, and Jungkook snickers as Seokjin makes a face, that vein on his neck pulsing just a bit.

He shouldn’t laugh, they’re just as likely to come to blows during the beginning of a rut and in a full moon cycle, but he can’t help himself

Yoongi, as usual, manages to keep the peace by offering to order pizza and foot the bill, a truly saintlike act since they could go through a pizza each, as hot as their temperature would be running by now.

Jungkook doesn’t say that he’s had a knot for two years now, the very thought of his hyungs knowing that makes him blush so much he hides it by wiping his face with a towel, pretending to have been sweating.

Truly, he should have had a rut by now, triggered by all the pheromones' from the shows they’d been doing, this tour had been particularly rough due to the upcoming blood moon, at least for all the other boys, and it isn’t as if Jungkook hasn’t mated, of course, but a full rut? Not even the hint of it. It worries him, but Namjoon keeps assuring him that everyone gets there in time, people are just different.

Taehyung had been a late bloomer himself, not starting his first rut until he met and fell in love with his girlfriend, a short feisty redhead he’d met after a hand injury from stringing his bass guitar and slicing his palm open. She’d been a nurse who scolded him for not coming in sooner and it’d been almost instant, her green eyes triggering every wolf thing about him, or at least that’s how he tells it, all wide eyed and dreamy.

She’s a near constant in Taehyung’s hotel rooms now, sometimes riding along on the tour bus, but he doesn’t let her into anymore of the concerts even when she pouts, because human mates around a group of wolves around rutting season can be a dangerous time.

Taehyung is one of the gentlest wolves Jungkook knows, but he’d seen him snarl when Yoongi so much as winked at the redhead near a rut, so it’s probably for the best.

Anyway, Jungkook wasn’t worried (much). He’d find his true mate eventually, but probably not at a concert. Maybe he’d start his rut there, at least, around the full moon. He’d never have imagined that he’d find both.

The crowd is nice enough, although they seem a little feral. Some of these girls have signs that should be x rated, but you're not one to judge, especially since you've never actually….done anything too x-rated.

You feel a little strange when you enter the concert venue and you can’t quite put your finger on it. You shrug and blame it on the strong drink your friend had made you chug before you entered since she couldn’t finish it all herself.

It’s like there’s something living under your skin, some rush like heat, and it makes you feel antsy, ready to dance along to the music or at least laugh at your friend losing her mind next to you.

There’s a lot of gimmick to the concert and it’s bright and dark at the same time near the stage. You’d swear you’d seen the guitarist strum with no pick, with a sharp claw instead, but you’re sure it’s makeup, part of the show. They’re wearing contacts, too, you’re pretty sure, and the music is good, your friend isn’t wrong.

The song you’d heard that you’d like is actually their encore song, heavy on the bass and drums, and the lead singer even makes your skin feel hot a little when he makes eye contact and winks at you. The last solo the lights come down on the drummer, he’s on the back stage so all you can see is his long hair bouncing, the flex of his admittedly impressive biceps as he finishes the song.

You’ve been jumping up and down and singing along so much that you’re sweating and feeling a bit dizzy, so you drag your friend out the back alley while she’s still swooning, having gotten a direct smile from her favorite bassist.

“Did you see him? He looked right at me! We’re in love, Y/n. Do you want to be my maid of honor?” She’s babbling when you hear the click of a lighter next to you.

There’s people milling about, it wasn’t exactly a sold out show but there was a decent crowd, and people are now piling into the bar next door.

“Did you like the show?”

When you turn your head you’re shocked to see that it’s the lead singer, a couple strands of his silver hair falling over his eye as he smiles at you.

“Oh. Oh, yes, I liked it very...very much,” you stammer. He’s even more handsome up close. Those are some really good contacts, you can’t tell they aren’t real at all, even though surely no one’s eyes are a violet color like that.

“Sly!” Your friend screams, and you jolt forward, surprised.

The singer’s hand lights on your shoulder and you look down. You have time to think that they must make great money for these expensive special effects because they sure do look like claws before your friend rushes past you, yelling because Happy had come out the back with the rest of the band.

There’s no mob or anything, maybe a dozen people other than you and Jia, but it makes you a bit anxious nonetheless, especially since you’re still feeling just as antsy, hot and dizzy as you were before.

It might be worse, actually, as you stand outside in the moonlight.

“Sly’s just my stage name.” His voice sounds softer, closer to your ear as he leans in. “You can call me Jimin.”

“O-okay,” you stutter, unused to feeling this way. You’re usually more outgoing, talkative, but it feels so strange. You find yourself looking up at the sky as if looking for the moon.

It’s better, once you’re inside the bar, there’s not as much of a crowd and you’re sitting at a big table with Sly...Jimin, you remind yourself, and Jia and Happy, who seems to fit his name well, laughing open and loud with your best friend as if they’ve known each other forever.

After a few hours and a couple of drinks you’ve lost most of that antsy feeling since being indoors, and you and Jimin vibe well, becoming fast friends. You’re both flirty and talkative after getting to know each other, and your mood is lifted from the concert, the alcohol, and the socialization.

You even laugh about calling their gimmick dumb as they dodge questions about where they get their makeup and accessories. You assume it’s some kind of sponsorship situation or contract, not thinking much of it.

You manage to excuse yourself long enough to look for the bathroom, although Jia abandons you since she’s made her way into Happy’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and with a blissful smile you’re not sure you’ve ever seen on her.

There’s someone standing in the hall and it’s a narrow hallway and he’s pretty wide from the back so you stumble a little when you turn, placing a hand on the wall.

“Oh, excuse me!” You say, brightly, but when he turns you gasp, a little surprised by the bright red of his eyes before you realize it’s another member of Lunar Violence.

“Hello,” he says, quietly with a little smile and he has these prominent front teeth that are pretty cute, make him look a lot less intimidating, despite those contacts and an eyebrow piercing and his size.

“Oh, hello! You’re…”

“Baby,” he blurts, and it makes you giggle.

You feel a little tipsier than you’d realized, and you guess it must be since you’ve been sitting down for an hour or so and just gotten up.

He puts a hand over his face, embarrassed. “My name is Jungkook,” he explains. “I’m the drummer?”

It’s cute how his voice pitches up into a question, as if you wouldn’t recognize him. He’s definitely a bit more modest than the other two members you’d met, with Jimin and Happy (who you’d just learned also goes by Hoseoki), bragging about tours and performances.

“Pretty big for a baby,” you tease, and he makes an embarrassed sound in the back of his throat.

“I keep trying to get them to let me change it,” he mutters.

You introduce yourself and he smiles again, and his eyes aren’t as red as you’d thought at first, anyway, maybe it’s just the light. You brush past him as you continue to the bathroom after excusing yourself, and it’s a little zing through you, like static electricity.

It takes you longer in the bathroom than it usually would, that last drink really must have packed a punch, and when you return to the table Jungkook is sitting there, too, next to your empty chair. Jimin looks a little sullen and pouty, but he smiles at you, those violet eyes crinkling up at the corners, and you give him a bright smile back.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is all energy, jiggling his leg and tapping his fingers on the table and Hoseok seems to be watching him intently.

The atmosphere in general seems to have changed, and after exchanging numbers with everyone with the urging of Jia, you two excuse yourself.

The three men walk you outside and Jimin is close while Jungkook hangs back. You imagine Jimin is so close since you mentioned feeling a bit dizzy and he asks you twice if he can call you a car but you tell him that the fresh air will do you good.

It’s funny, the moonlight seems to energize you a bit. When Jimin leans in to kiss you on the cheek, you jump a little at a sound behind you, something like a bark.

Jimin jolts back a little, eyes widening, and you both laugh at your nerves.

“Stray dog,” you remark, and Jimin snorts.

“Something like that.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “So what exactly the fuck happened after I left?”

Jimin is sullen on the couch, arms crossed over his chest with a busted lip and Jungkook is sitting next to Hoseok on the floor on the other side of the hotel room with tissue up his nose, Hoseok tilting his head back.

“Baby is about to go into rut,” Taehyung sings, laughing, his girlfriend draped over him on the bed drowsily, his teeth marks littering her neck and throat.

“Don’t,” Yoongi warns. “Everyone’s just wound up. Full moon is in two days, after all, cut him some slack.”

“Sees one girl he likes and suddenly no one else can talk to her,” Jimin complains, gingerly working his tongue across his lip ring to see if it’s torn.

“You tried to kiss her,” Jungkook growls, and Hoseok pushes on his chest to keep him from getting up.

Jungkook can’t explain why his wolf wanted to rip Jimin’s throat out when he leaned in to kiss you, he’d just met you, didn’t even know your last name, but it was visceral, sudden, something crawling up his throat. He’d almost moved forward to do it before Hoseok said his name, sharply.

“We all get a little possessive about potential mates around the full moon,” Namjoon reasons. “But that’s not the way to handle it, Jungkook.”

Jungkook hangs his head and removes the tissue from his nose with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry, hyung.” He looks over at Jimin but he means it for Namjoon. He’s still bitter, somehow, about Jimin’s hand on your lower back, his lips brushing your cheek. It makes his head feel fuzzy, his guts roll.

Namjoon, on the other hand, had been the one to “discover” Jungkook, back when he had no idea why his eyes were starting to change color with the moon cycles or why his nails grew out like claws. He’d started learning percussion just to get rid of some of the energy he had around those times, and he’d been 17 when Namjoon approached him in a music store when Jungkook was looking into buying cymbals.

Jungkook had been abandoned when he was a baby, adopted at four years old and he had no idea about his wolf lineage, or even that they existed, until Namjoon explained it to him.

“Jungkook doesn’t know his lineage,” Namjoon reminds them all. “He might just be presenting as an alpha, that’s a lot around the full moon, Jimin, you remember.”

Jimin grumbles something under his breath and Jungkook has to take a deep breath through his nostrils, smelling iron from their scuffle earlier, in order not to lunge across the room and hit him again.

Eventually, Jungkook has to move to his own room despite usually bunking with Jimin, and he finds himself unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling. He keeps seeing your bright smile, your curls bouncing around as you talked and laughed, mostly at Jimin, and it makes him stiffen to think of how Jimin had met you first.

Why did it matter, anyway? You’re just a person, just like he is, just a girl, and he doesn’t have the best track record with talking to girls, anyway. You’d been in the front row, with your friend who Hoseok had gotten so smiley about, he’d seen you just before he started his set, his vision clearer around the full moon.

The others laughed at him for how he talked about “the wolf,” as if it wasn’t a part of him, as if it wasn’t who he was, but that’s how it had always felt. He just hadn’t had a name for it until he’d met Namjoon. It was like this thing, inside him, this beast, something that clawed and scratched to get out.

Seokjin keeps telling him that he’s fighting the wolf, that’s why he hasn’t gone into rut or popped his knot, that’s why he feels so achy and fidgety around the moon cycles, that’s why he hasn’t shifted. Namjoon would always respond there was no way to know that but Seokjin just rolled his eyes.

“Aish, I’m your hyung, listen to me. I fought mine, too, when I was young, and when I shifted I broke a few bones. You should give in, let it ride in the front seat once in a while.”

Jungkook had nodded at the time but now, he doesn’t know how to do that. Drumming helped, it was a lot of work and energy expelled and it felt like he could let him out, the wolf, just a little. It’s why he’d gotten so big, staying active and lifting weights was something the wolf liked.

The wolf came sometimes when he masturbated, too, when he’d feel particularly worked up around the full moon, after a concert, sweaty and rolling his hips into his hand.

When he tries it after meeting you, he can’t even finish, ending up panting and sore, the wolf still snarling over the memory of Jimin’s lips barely brushing across your cheek.

Surprisingly enough, it’s Jungkook who texts you first. Wanna go for a drink?

You’re not sure whether to say yes at first, you’ve been feeling so strange. You can barely sleep, your skin feeling hot, as if you’d burned yourself with a too hot shower. You think about that night at the concert a lot, Jimin’s violet eyes, Jungkook’s almost red ones, how odd you’d felt.

You would have talked to Jia about it but she’s been abducted by the werewolf band, apparently, you’ve barely seen her in a week and when you had she’d been littered with hickeys and with a big goofy smile.

Part of you wonders if this is all some sex ring cult but she seems happy, jubilant even, so you agree, meeting Jungkook at a downtown bar.

He’s there before you arrive, you can see him through the window sitting at a table, looking wide and a bit intimidating until he lifts his head and smiles at you with a little wave.

His eyes are a warm brown now, pretty and wide, you’re able to notice the shape more without the contacts.

Jungkook is still all energy, maybe that’s just how he is, talking to you more and more as the nights go on and you two share a pitcher of beer, scooting his chair closer. You find he flushes a pretty rose when you flirt with him and can’t stop laughing when he nearly falls out of his chair when you prop your legs up in his lap.

By the end of the night he can’t stop smiling at you and you’re intrigued, moreso than you’d imagined you would be when you’d first met him, smiling shyly at you at the bar near the concert. You start to feel funny again, your head fuzzy, probably from the alcohol.

When you tell him, he’s all wide eyed concern.

You giggle. “Now I know why they call you Baby.”

He huffs a little.

He walks you outside just as he did before but this time he doesn’t hang back, and when you reach the alleyway, he places a hand on the swell of your hip as you take a few deep breaths of the night air.

You’re surprised, laugh a little until you look up into his eyes. You’d swear they looked red tinged again, but surely it’s just the beer.

“Not a baby,” he murmurs, moving closer, pressing you up against the brick with his body, and you hitch in a breath.

“No?” You ask, boldly trailing your finger along his collarbone through the black tshirt he’s wearing.

He shakes his head, leaned down close enough to your face that his nose brushes yours.

“Prove it,” you tease, and he makes this rumbling sound in the back of his throat that makes goosebumps break out across your flesh.

He leans down further, nips at your lower lip, and you moan, body surging forward toward his as if it was made to fit it. You’re not sure if you kiss him or he kisses you, but his tongue is in your mouth, his hands on either side of your head, caging you in.

You feel hot all over, dizzy in the most pleasant way, at least until he pulls away, gasping.

You whine, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever made before, when he’s not touching you anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

He’s gone before you can even gasp out another whine of his name, and the moonlight on your skin burns instead of cools.

Jungkook tells this story in a burst to his bandmates the next day, hungover with his head pounding.

“You just left her there?” Jimin says, his face shocked, and Jungkook feels the wolf make a growl start at the back of his throat.

Namjoon puts a hand on his shoulder and it turns into a whine instead.

“I’ve never felt him that close, hyung. Right at the surface. I wanted to…”

Namjoon and Seokjin meet eyes above Jungkook’s lowered head.

Jimin catches it. Jimin catches everything, it’s one of the best and worst things about him.

“What? You think…” Jimin laughs. “No. She can’t be his.... She’s not a wolf, I would’ve smelled it when-”

Jungkook surges out of his seat, a deep growl rumbling from his chest. “When what, Jimin?”

Jimin’s eyes glow a pale violet as he snarls back, uncaring that Jungkook towers over him.

In the end, Namjoon and Seokjin have to separate them physically as they bark and snarl at each other.

Hoseok and Taehyung are missing, having holed up to ride out their ruts with their human mates instead of the house the seven share.

Yoongi huffs out a breath. “He’s definitely presenting as an alpha.”

“No shit,” Namjoon barks, unusually on edge.

Yoongi, Seokjin, and Taehyung are the betas of the group, and until now there had only been a slight difference among the bandmates despite their different rankings.

Alpha pheromones were stronger and their senses were more heightened around rutting season, particularly for other mates.

In the end, they have to completely change how they house themselves, with Jimin sharing a room with Yoongi, and Jungkook sharing with Seokjin.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jungkook says miserably, his wolf finally calmed as he sits down on the bed.

“It’s not your fault,” Seokjin says, voice much less harsh than Namjoon’s had been earlier when he’d scolded him. “I saw Namjoon during this time, and it wasn’t easy.”

Jungkook looks up at the elder with wide eyes. “Really?”

Seokjin snorts and nods. “Yeah, around the full moon he was unbearable, snarling at everything.”

“I just didn’t want to scare her or...or hurt her...I wanted to put her against the wall and…” Jungkook trails off, embarrassed.

Seokjin only smiles and ruffles Jungkook’s hair. “That’s normal too, Baby. You wouldn’t have hurt her, especially if it’s what we think it is.”

“What...what does that mean?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Something you gotta work out on your own.”

Jungkook groans and flops down on the bed as Seokjin laughs, heading downstairs to make dinner while things are calm.

He has trouble sleeping again, but this time instead of wondering why, he knew, could almost feel the soft skin of your hip on his palm like it was still there, how you’d moaned into his mouth, whined for him.

Jungkook isn’t sure there’s a cold enough shower to help.

You can’t seem to sit still as the full moon nears, feeling like you might jump out of your skin. You can’t count the number of friends you’d called but no one seems up to going out. You bite your lip while looking at Jungkook’s contact on your phone screen.

If you think about it long enough, you can still feel the way he pressed against you, how the hair on the nape of your neck stood up when he nipped at your lip, how hot you’d felt, how wet…

You sigh and scroll up, seeing Jimin’s name instead. Jimin had been fun to be with the night you’d met, easy to talk to, less….intense. And he didn’t make you feel like you were about to crawl out of your skin, so you ask if he wants to meet up for a drink.

It’s late, by the time you decide, and the moon is out, waxing toward fullness. There’s only a tiny sliver remaining, big in the sky, and you can’t stop looking up at it as you walk to the bar near your house.

You’d chosen it because it’s close and not because it’s where hot drummer Jeon Jungkook, also known as Baby, had pressed you against an alley wall and made you almost…

Jimin jolts you out of your thoughts, calling your name and waving as you approach the door. He’s leaned against the doorjamb, giving you a smirk and you think now you understand why they call him Sly.

It makes you smile and again, you vibe well with him, you get along in the best way, conversation is easy and you don’t feel gooseflesh or your hair stand up when he brushes his fingers against yours.

Jimin knows he’s playing with fire when he replies to your text, but they don’t call him Sly for nothing, and you’re interesting, for a human. He’s only met one other female wolf, a tall and feisty woman with a sharp tongue and the most beautiful brown eyes, but she’d had a mate and well...things hadn’t ended well.

Jungkook thinks of his wolf as this separate entity but Jimin disagrees, let’s his wolf do what it wants, so that all the bad things he feels have some kind of outlet. This was especially so after he’d lost his brown eyed wolf girl, so he invites you back to the house, knowing that Jungkook will be at the gym all night before the full moon tomorrow.

In fact, all of the others will be out, finding fun of their own, and why shouldn’t Jimin do the same? It isn’t as if Jungkook has marked you, or even can, since you’re human.

Your eyes aren’t quite the same shade of hers, but he can pretend.

Jungkook works out until his muscles ache but nothing can shake this feeling he has, like something’s wrong. When he leaves the gym even the moon looks off, as if it’s dimmer than it should be, and something’s pulling him home, like this tug in his gut. It feels like it used to as a kid in his first foster home, when he’d get so anxious he’d climb onto the roof and stare up at it.

He’s almost running as he gets closer, feeling his skin prickle as he gets to the house, his wolf so close to the surface he can feel the fur that isn’t there yet standing up on the back of his neck.

He smells Jimin first, wrinkling his nose at the alpha pheromones, and when he walks upstairs it isn’t as if he decides to let the wolf take over, or struggles with it - it’s instant.

You’re standing in the hall, head tilted up, and Jimin is leaning against the wall, smiling down at you, and when you lean up to just softly brush your lips against Jimin’s, Jungkook’s heart nearly leaps out of his chest, and the wolf barks, loud and warning.

You turn, surprised, and Jungkook doesn’t think, doesn’t act, it’s all wolf. He grabs you by your waist, hefts you up over your shoulder, and begins to walk you to his room.

Jimin protests and Jungkook growls over his shoulder, daring him to try something. Later, Jungkook is glad his friend didn’t follow, because he isn’t sure that he could have held the wolf back.

You kick and yell and beat on his back and Jungkook doesn’t realize what he’s done until he’s plopped you down on his bed, crawling toward you.

You kick him in the chest and it barely registers. You stand up and that’s when he snaps back to himself, at least to a degree.

"Don't leave. You can't leave." It's panicked, his voice, higher pitched almost like a whine.

"I can do whatever I want," you snap.

He makes this sound between a whine and a snarl and it's startling, strange, and you stop at the door.

"I know that! I know, but he doesn't!"

"He..." you turn to look at him and he's trembling, head down, and you step closer, worried. "Baby, what do you mean?"

Jungkook just stands there, still trembling, until you reach out to touch his hair, gently. "He thinks he owns you, that you're his, that no one else can touch you." He explains, almost in a whisper.

"Who is he?" You ask slowly.

He raises his head slow and you gasp when you look into his eyes, instead of a warm brown this burnt amber, red hued.

"The wolf."

You stand there, blinking in surprise, for a long moment before actively telling your feet to move to the door. Unfortunately, your brain seems to have some kind of disconnect to your limbs, because you just step even closer, lean in and inhale along his neck, this scent of sweat and the iron of the weights he’d been lifting washing over you.

Rationally, you know that you should be shocked, horrified, even, that werewolves are real and you’re apparently standing in a house full of them but all you can do is run your tongue along the vein in his throat and Jungkook is trembling all over, whimpering like a puppy.

“Y/n, please, don’t-” he chokes out.

“Why not?” You murmur against his skin, the scent of him making your body react like you’ve never felt before. There’s this ache between your thighs that you’ve only felt a hint of before and you want more, nipping at his skin, unable to think clearly.

“He wants to...wants you,” Jungkook stutters, balling his hands into fists to keep from touching you.

“He does? Or you do?” You ask, lifting your head to pout at him, and Jungkook groans.

“Both,” he whispers hoarsely.

“Then take me,” you say, and you don’t even know where the words came from. Your head feels light on your shoulders, dizzy with the scent of him, how his skin tastes under your tongue, and you do what he did to you the last night you’d seen him, nipping at his lower lip. Your canine pierces the skin and you taste iron on your tongue

Jungkook growls and lifts you again, this time with his hands under your ass and thighs and your legs wrap around him instantly. He all but throws you down on the bed, this time, and you whimper when he grips one of your thighs with his big hand, squeezing the flesh there.

“Mine,” he snarls, that high pitched whine at the end, and it makes you arch your back, claw your nails across his shoulders.

Jungkook leans down to sniff at your neck and growls again, wrinkling his nose and when you open your eyes he’s staring down at you with those red/amber eyes.

You look back defiantly but you’re rolling your hips against his, you can feel him hard against your core and even though you’d never gone all the way with anyone before you want him inside you, can’t think of anything else.

“You smell like him,” he accuses, voice hoarse, and his wide eyes fade back to brown, just slightly, the color dilating around his pupils.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, feeling something like guilt, even though nothing had happened, really, and even it if it had…

He rubs his nose against your throat, covers you with his body like he’s replacing any of Jimin’s scent with his own. He licks against your neck, bites down on your skin, making you yelp.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whines. “I’m sorry, I have to. You’re mine, I have to mark you, have to scent you anywhere he touched you,” he tries to explain, his hands skating down your ample curves.

“It’s okay,” you say, and somehow you mean it, you understand, the very thought of Jungkook smelling like anyone else makes your heart jump into your throat, something primal rise in your gut. “I know, baby.”

“You’re mine?” He says again, voice pitching up into a question just like when he’d introduced himself and it scares you, the way it makes your heart ache.

Instead of speaking you kiss him again, hard, moving your hands to his hair to get him closer. You had worn a skirt and halter out, it’s so warm even though it’s close to winter, your skin feeling so hot under the moonlight that you couldn’t wear much else.

Even as you kiss him he’s tearing at your clothes and you lean up to help him until you’re bare beneath him and panting, this whining noise coming from your throat that you can’t explain.

“God,” Jungkook groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I-”

“You haven’t...haven’t done this before?” Your eyes widen.

Jungkook realizes what you mean and he blushes a bit. “I’ve...yeah, I’ve done this before but not...not like this. I feel like...the wolf feels like...he’s been crazy. Since the first moment I saw you.”

“Like you’re gonna jump out of your skin? Always feeling...hot?” You ask.

Jungkook nods slowly, eyes widening.

“Me too,” you admit. “I don’t...I don’t know what it means. That’s why I came out with Jimin, I-”

Jungkook cuts you off with a choked whine. “It means you’re supposed to be mine.”

He snuffles against your neck again, hands at your hips, still holding back, trembling. “It means he never should have touched you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, even though you know you have nothing to apologize for. “I want you. I’ve never...I’ve never done this before but I want you so bad,” you admit, clutching at his tshirt, pulling it up until he gets on his knees and pulls it off, tossing it to the side. You spread your hands across his chest and he lets out a wrecked moan.

“You’re holding back,” you accuse.

He nods. “The wolf, he doesn’t….I don’t want to hurt you. Especially...fuck, no one’s touched you like this before?” His hands slide up and down your thighs as he stares down at your body, your breasts, the cleft of your cunt.

Jungkook knows that shouldn’t make him so hard, shouldn’t make his dick pulse in his sweats, shouldn’t make the wolf keen with pride. Mine mine mine, the first, the only is all his brain is chanting, he feels dizzy like he’s drank too much even though he hasn’t had a drop.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, but he can’t, can’t let the wolf out, he’s afraid he’ll rip you apart. You’re human and a virgin and he can’t risk hurting you.

The wolf won’t even let him say it, so he just shakes his head.

You huff out a breath, your body aching all over, need making your arousal coat your thighs. You don’t know what you’re going to say until you say it.

“Should I ask Jimin to do it? I bet he can smell me,” you taunt, shocking yourself.

Jungkook freezes, his eyes bleeding to red again and one hand jolting out to wrap around your throat.

“Don’t,” he warns.

You know you should be cautious since you’re about to fuck an actual werewolf, but fuck, you’re so hot, you can’t think, you need something inside you and you drop your feet to the bed, spreading your legs wide.

“Jimin would mark me. He’d fuck me, fill me full like I want.”

Jungkook feels something in him snap, and his heart hurts and his cock aches and the wolf is keening, clawing inside him and he can’t control it anymore, just like before.

“Never,” he growls, squeezes his fingers around your throat and you gasp, your stomach aching with need.

Finally, finally he slides his fingers along your pussy and you choke out a sob as his thumb slips across your clit but it’s not enough.

“Jungkook,” you whimper. “Make me yours.”

“Already mine,” he murmurs, and finally slides two fingers inside you, making you cry out. “You’re already mine but I’m gonna give you what you want, mark you, fuck you, make sure Park fucking Jimin never so much as sniffs at you again.”

“Yes,” you sigh. “Yes, please, please.”

Jungkook still worries somewhere in the back of his mind that he’ll hurt you, that the wolf will, and by now he understands they’re one and the same but you’re rolling your hips up and his cock feels heavy and full like he’s about to burst, somehow wider at the base and he rips down his sweats, fucking you with three fingers now.

When his cock bounces against his stomach you gasp, and if you’d been in your right mind you might worry he’s too big but something inside you is crying out in pleasure just at the sight of it. You spread your legs wider and he releases your throat, leaning over to kiss you instead, biting your lip as he slowly works himself inside you.

It’s a tight fit even after three fingers and you’re whining into his mouth, wanting more.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, far from it although a little less experienced than some of his band members (Hoseok had once bragged about fucking a house of sorority sisters during a rut), but the way you clench around him has his hips twitching, wanting to buck into you even if it would split you open.

Despite his worry, neither he or the wolf wants to hurt you, though, so he waits for you to adjust even as you beg, waits until you can take all of him.

He’s barely realized that he’s popped his knot until he looks down to see where you’ve joined and he groans. He knows how to do this, has been talked to (endlessly, by Taehyung, about his human girlfriend and how she desperately wants to take his knot and they’re working on it but it will take time and training), knows that you can’t take his knot but the wolf is howling for it, wants to fuck you hard and then pop it inside you, spill a littler into your womb.

You whine and pulse around him, reaching up to tug at his hair. “Kookie,” you pout. “Baby. Want you inside me, fuck me harder, please-”

“I can’t-” he chokes out, but then you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him deeper and the wolf growls, leans down, mine mine mine chanting in his head. My mate.

You felt a tiny pop when Jungkook first entered you, nothing painful and then just need, you want more and more and you don’t even know how to say it. You look up at him, near tears, needing something that you feel he won’t give you.

“I’m not yours yet,” you slur, and he looks pained, his eyes dilating from warm brown to amber red again and again.

He rocks his hips against you slow, and you’ve orgasmed twice already, once from his fingers and one from his cock but it’s not enough and you whine, it comes out almost inhuman, like his.

“Fill me up,” you urge, and Jungkook tries to hold the wolf back, he really does, but he’s too far gone, this close to the full moon and in the start of his first rut.

Jungkook groans, fucks you harder and faster and when you cry out his name his balls draw up and he thrusts forward harder than he’d meant to, popping his knot inside you.

You make a surprised sound and his eyes pop open, his hands cupping your face even as his hips twitch as he cums, spills inside you.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry,” he mourns. “I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry,” he babbles, kissing along your neck and throat, seeing that he’d already marked you twice, once on each side of your throat, and he barely remembers it.

You let out a happy sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, feeling finally sated, at least for the moment. “What are you sorry for, silly baby?”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” He asks, and you look up into his eyes and they’re heterochromatic, now, red hued amber and brown both.

“You’d never hurt me,” you mumble against his throat.

“Never,” he promises. “Never, I love you so much.”

You’re half asleep, sated with him still inside you, planting soft kisses on your lips and face. You don’t know where you’d learned the word, but it feels right when you say it, right before you drift to sleep.

“I love you too, Alpha.”

It takes a while to understand, especially between Jungkook being barely able to leave his room since he’s in rut and you’re in heat, but eventually, you figure it out.

Your great grandmother had been an omega werewolf, and it’s a recessive gene so you’d been the lucky one to receive it. Since you had never shifted because your gene wasn’t activated by male wolves, you had no smell.

At least, not until the full moon, when you shifted into what Jungkook says is the prettiest wolf he’d ever seen.

After, when you’d near your heat, Jungkook would snap and snarl at the boys so much just for talking to you that it made you roll your eyes, but eventually you got the dates right (for the most part, there’d been one instance in which Jimin had made a snarky comment and Jungkook had lunged at him and they’d gone rolling down the stairs), and you holed up in your apartment, instead.

Jungkook was working with Seokjin to understand that the wolf is him instead of some seperate entity. You tell him you’ve always known that. From what you know now, if the wolf wasn’t, he would have taken you the very first night. True mates are rare, and you’d both known it the whole time, even when you hadn’t.

You and Jia went to every concert, her always telling you her neverending sexcapades with Hoseok to be able to take his knot, front row, waiting for your Alpha’s set. It’s cute, you think, that they call him Baby on stage but he’s your Alpha, especially since he’s both, always, to you.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #werewolf!jungkook #bts werewolf au #jungkook imagine #bangtanshadowfamily #bangtanheadquarters #btscreatorscorner #btswritersclub

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ariadne-does-her-best · 3 years ago

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Love in G Major

Dick Grayson x Reader One-Shot; Soulmate!Au

Word Count: 2,500+

Warnings: Kidnapping but nothing graphic happens

Author’s Note: Hey guys! This is my first time posting a fic so characters may be a little OOC. Please let me know if you guys liked this and if you want to, feel free to send a request! Also, I might make a series of Soulmate! Aus since I have a good idea for Jasons thought out. xo, Ariadne

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate, you’re one of the lucky ones to receive a physical sign of your soulmate in the form of a timer counting down to when you’ll meet. But after being kidnapped by the Riddler, hours before you’re supposed to meet them, you can only pray that the Riddler of all people isn’t your soulmate.

Five hours.

You swayed to the rich sound of your cello, eyes closed, as you shifted your hand down into fourth position. You rested for a beat before going down bow, still doing vibrato even after the piece was done. The audience waited for a sign that you were done with the piece, be it that your hand stopped moving or you physically stood up and told them to clap. Instead, you opened your eyes and smiled as the diners took their cue to start clapping before inclining your head in thanks as you waited for the applause to die down.

It was a normal Saturday at the small but expensive Italian restaurant you performed at. You weren’t supposed to be there since you had requested to take today off but the owner had still put you down to play during half of the two-hour live performance time slot. At the end of the day, money was money and who were you to ever say no to the thousands you always received in tips. After all, you could only think about the new bow you could buy with the money. Which would lead to you sounding better, getting more gigs, and making more money. The process was like a cycle, really.

After the applause stopped and those who were up putting money in your jar had sat down in their seats, you sat back down and started playing Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1, Prelude. You could hear the pianist who was supposed to take over for the rest of the night setting up, his hands flipping through his many copies of sheet music.

Aside from the sounds of cutlery and the wisps of conversation, there was not much noise other than the smooth sound of your cello. But even if there were no noises, something still bothered you.

At first, it wasn’t that bad. You could feel someone staring at you, which was normal since you were performing on a stage with your whole being on display, but it was longer and more intense than normal. Letting your eyes wander around the crowded restaurant, your eyes locked onto a pair of green eyes. You smiled slightly at the young girl before wincing as the slight burning of your wrist got worse. You continued playing, closing your eyes as you tried to ignore the burning of your timer. Your soulmate timer.

You were one of the lucky individuals who had a visible connection to their soulmate. Instead of feeling a spark whenever you touch your soulmate, like your neighbors do, or being able to finally see color when you touch your soulmate, like your parents, you were one of the few lucky ones who could count down to the precise moment when you would meet your soulmate. And that was exactly what you did. When you were thirteen and your parents had explained your soulmate mark to you, the first thing you did was calculate when you would meet your soulmate according to your timer and write it down in your diary.

It was impossible for you to ignore the burning on your wrist, impossible for you to not grin as you played. But your grin was wiped off when you heard glass shatter and a scream.

Four hours.

You had no idea where you were but judging by the smell of the place and the fact that two men wearing green suits with question marks were staring at you, you were not at the restaurant.

‘At least I still have my cello,’ you thought as you pulled against the ropes that tied you against a pillar. The henchmen were talking between themselves as they approached the pillar where you were tied. They started untying you from the pillar and you took this opportunity to suddenly stand up and run.

You heard one of the henchmen curse but you ran in random zigzag lines towards where the door was. It was weird that the henchmen didn’t shoot at you or even attempt to stop you. But you ignored the niggling in the back of your mind. Wrenching the door open, you looked back at where your cello lay and turned back around to walk towards your freedom.

Except it wasn’t your freedom, it was the Riddler in his forest green suit and bowler combo. A rather tacky-looking combo in your opinion but hey, you weren’t going to be the one to break the news to a murderous criminal. He looked up at your sudden entrance and smiled.

“Here she is,” he said, yanking you into the room where the guests of the restaurant were tied onto the seats of an auditorium. You shivered as the cold air hit you and you looked around the room, taking in the TV production set up and the large stage that covered up more than half of the room there.

The Riddler dragged you up onto the stage, and you couldn’t help but wince as the harsh lights burned your eyes.

“What am I doing on stage,” you asked the Riddler as you covered your eyes with your hands. The Riddler’s smile became somehow larger, looking rather comical for a second before becoming more uncomfortable to look at. “Riddle me this,” the Riddler started as he pushed you down onto a chair, “what is it that cannot open any locks and yet has 24 keys?”

Your eyes furrowed in confusion as you rubbed at your wrist, the burning sensation somehow getting worse.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled as a minute passed.

“Well, if you don’t know, why don’t we give you a little motivation to figure out the right answer?”

And with that, the Riddler drew out a gun and pointed it at the closest person seated at the stage, the pianist. At this point, you could hear the sobs wracking through his body and you thought about his elderly parents who depended on him to pay for their surgeries. You don’t know how you could live with his blood on your hands.

“Wait, I have the answer,” you cried out, reaching out to grab the Riddler’s elbow but stopping. Something told you that that wouldn’t be a good idea and he might take that opportunity to shoot you.

“Well, do go on.”

“It’s music,” you said, staring at the deranged man’s face. He broke into peals of laughter, clapping his hands, as he tried to settle himself. It was unnerving how he could flip the switch easily from being a man ready to kill another to laughing as if you were the funniest person on Earth.

“That’s correct. And with that, let us start the games.”

Three hours.

After asking you his initial riddle, the Riddler had quickly set up a broadcast to be shown to all of Gotham, using the footage that one of his henchmen had taken of him questioning you as the intro.

“Batman, I have two riddles for you,” he said, addressing the camera. If you weren’t stuck on stage with two guns pointed at you as you tuned a somewhat cheap cello, you would have sighed. Why couldn’t he also include picture puzzles or something else for once? But you were stuck on stage so you just carefully tuned the instrument, hoping that none of the guards took your movement as you tuned as a sign of your sad attempt at running away.

“There are as many constellations in the sky as there are keys in a piano. What number am I? There you will find the answer to, ‘What is it that makes songs but you will never hear it sing?’ You have an hour to find them before I start playing my little game.”

As if that's your cue, one of the gunmen poked your back and you tensed, surprised by how cold the metal was through your sweater. You quickly quit your tuning and started playing the op. 88, hoping that maybe Batman or Robin would recognize it. It would probably be difficult for them to recognize since they probably weren’t as necessarily as interested in music as you were. And if they were, it’d probably be a little difficult to hear and piece together the piece since you were playing more stiffly than your usual languid movements.

You just hoped that they could understand the Riddler’s riddle and show up to save the night.

Two hours.

An hour has passed of you sitting in your seat playing your cello. Your butt was stiff from the hard chair, your back hurt from your stiff posture, and your wrist was burning pretty badly. At the thought of your wrist, your mind recoiled slightly. What if your soulmate was one of the Riddler’s henchmen? Or the Riddler himself? The thought of it made you want to puke.

“Well Gotham,” the Riddler said, standing in front of the mic as he paused to look dramatically at the camera. “Batman still hasn’t arrived yet so I will be starting my game. And today we have a very special guest that will be playing with me.”

At this, the goons started applauding and you heard a child in the audience cry even louder.

“Our special guest is the one and only (Y/N) (L/N) who has been playing such lovely music for us during our broadcast.”

You sat in your chair, music forgotten as another stage light shone on you.

“Now come on (Y/N), don’t be shy. I know that I’m somewhat of a local celebrity but I don’t bite.”

You shivered under the Riddler’s gaze and got up, trying your best not to stumble as you walked towards him. Your breathing was labored now and the closer you got to the Riddler, the more you felt like you were going to faint.

“(Y/N) here is going to play a simple game. She’s going to play a song that shows up in the cards,” he held up a large stack of index cards and fanned them out on the podium. The crying from the audience became even louder, with ‘Please, no’s mixed in. You turned to watch the small girl from the restaurant being dragged onto the stage, the bright lights highlighting the tears running down her face.

“And if (Y/N) here cannot play the song or if she plays even a single note or rhythm incorrectly, little Bella here will be dunked into this vat of water. For each mistake, she will be kept there for thirty seconds longer.”

You watched in horror as the girl was dragged towards what looked like a giant hole in the ground filled with water. She struggled against her restraints as she cried, her bleary eyes focused on something over your shoulder. You looked over in the corner of your eye and saw the familiar red and yellow of Robin.

As you turned around to shake the Riddler’s hand in acceptance of the rules, you curled your hand in a fist.

“Let the game begin,” he shouted, smiling at the camera before he went to choose a card.

“I’m sorry but we’re going to have to change the rules,” you said before pulling back your fist and punching him in the jaw.

One hour.

You were hiding in the corner of the stage, hidden by the curtains as you tried to untie Bella. The poor girl was trying to hold her sobs in but some still escaped, sounding misplaced in the sounds of Batman and Robin beating the Riddler & co. into oblivion.

You shushed her and tried to twist the rope and push it through the knot when a birdarang flew through the gap of the curtains and sliced your cheek along with the stray strands of hair nearby before hitting the wood paneling behind you. You ignored the blood that was slowly dripping down your face before grabbing the birdarang. You probably grabbed it wrong since it cut the palm of your hand, making you curse under your breath as you started sawing through the multiple knots in the ropes around Bella’s hands and feet.

Once she was free, the little girl tried to get up and run but you grabbed her, putting a finger up to your mouth and cupping a hand behind your ear, whispering “listen.”

You both sat there, listening to the sounds of Robin giggling as he punched someone. You furrowed your brow at that, wondering who exactly was the boy crazy enough to dress up as a traffic signal and fight crime with an equally weird man dressed as a bat.

You slowly started standing up once the sounds of Robin’s laughter had receded before holding a hand out to Bella. The young girl grabbed your hand and you both started edging your way off of the stage area where the fighting was taking place and towards her parents. Batman and Robin were tying people up when you finally found Bella’s father, the sound of the GCPD’s sirens in the background becoming louder and louder as they came closer.

As you and the other hostages made your way out, making sure to jump across the dock to the other side so you don’t fall into the disgusting water down below, you felt someone grab your wrist. You turned and smiled at Bella’s father.

“Why don’t you go and seek some medical assistance?”

“I will sir,” you replied before making your way to the paramedics, letting them fuss over your cuts. You could see Batman speaking to Commissioner Gordon but you couldn’t see Robin near them.

“I think you have something of mine,” Robin said with a grin as he held his hand towards you. You were surprised to see him in front of you but you smiled at him confused.

“I don’t know what you’re��,” you trailed off when you looked down to where he was pointing to see that you were still holding his birdarang.

“Oh. Well, I don’t know… maybe I should keep it. Something to remind me of this day,” you teased as you held up the birdarang so it was eye-level.

“Alright, you can keep it. Just don’t tell Batsie,” he said with a wink, causing you to giggle. “I’m sorry for cutting you.”

“It’s fine,” you said, wincing as the burning on your wrist became worse. Robin also gave out a hiss of pain at the same time as you, causing you to both stare at each other. You reached your hand out towards him slowly, letting your hands ghost over his cheekbones slightly when you felt the telltale cooling sensation of your wrist.

“Let’s go talk somewhere else,” he said, and you nodded, following behind him to an empty alleyway.

“Let me introduce myself again,” he started taking off his mask, “I’m Dick Grayson.”

You were met with the most beautiful pair of lilac-blue eyes, causing you to catch your breath in the back of your throat.

“And I’m (Y/N).”

“Why don’t we get out of here and get to know each other better, princess?”

“I would like that, love bird.”

#robin #nightwing #robin dick #robin dick grayson #dick grayson #dick grayson oneshot #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader imagines #dick grayson x reader imagine #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson imagine #dc imagine #dc imagines #ariadne writes #ariadne does her best to write

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stray-kids-react · 3 years ago

Text

Spring Showers & Autumn Breezes

Pairing - Felix x Noona Reader (By a year)

Genre - Fluff, Smut, Friends to lovers.

Warnings - Suggestive Dialogue, Virgin reader, Slight spit kink, Mostly vanilla, Female receiving oral, Soft Dom Lix, I got hella carried away.

Masterlist

6 months ago

You were always a perfect student who never had time to focus on making friends or hanging out with people after school. You always had your nose in a book thanks to the constant orders to only focus on studying by your parents.

You graduated early and inherited your father's business, becoming one of the youngest business owners in Korea. This intimidated many people, some of your customers and employers not even being able to look you in the eyes.

But one day when you took over as cash due to an emergency a pregnant employee had. The song God's menu played across the speakers in your store, you enjoyed Stray Kids' music it made you feel free and not have to build up any walls.

You were bouncing along to the Chorus in your 6 inch heels, restocking the bottles of perfume behind the counter.

"Excuse me?" A familiar deep voice called, the freckled idol smiled at you once you turned around.

It was Lee Felix from Stray Kids, holding two of your personal favorite colognes in his hands. They were your favorite ever since your father first let you sample them when you were thirteen. They weren't strong and one smelled like a cool autumn breeze while the other smelled like spring showers.

"Just the two?" You asked, bagging them gently in a paper bag.

You hoped that the idol didn't notice your awkward and stiff dancing as you stocked the shelf behind you. But the soft smile that stayed on his lips said otherwise.

"Aren't you the owner of this business?" He asked, looking at your name tag which was the only one with a last name...the same last name that matched the businesses.

"Yeah, I inherited it from my father. I'm covering for a cashier at the moment. But I don't mind, it's rarely ever busy in here." You answered, adjusting the already tight ponytail you've kept up for the whole day.

"This store is actually one of my favorites. I love the plushie selection here, they are all relatively cheap." Felix

You softly chuckled at his love for the child like items, secretly knowing that he had a love for plushies. Felix was your bias, his sunshine like and free spirit personality always caught your attention. You knew it was due to the fact that you were the complete opposite of him.

"My personal favorite is the No Face plush we have on the top shelf." You reveal, catching his bright gaze.

He shyly grinned at your gaze, almost as if he was waiting for you to finally open up a bit and relax. Felix has visited the store many times, only seeing you come out of your office once or twice... And each time you had a cold expression and had this unapproachable wall built around you.

"Would you like your receipt with it?" You asked, slowly beginning to crawl back into your shell.

"No, but I would like to see you more often." Felix murmured, sliding you a piece of paper with his number scribbled on with a pink pen.

Before you could even reply, the bright younger idol already had a foot out of the door. You had just gotten your biases number... What the hell were you going to do or say if you even called or texted him.

Two months ago

"Lee Felix, is that my coat?" You question, a serious gaze in your eyes as you crossed your arms.

"I'm sorry Noona... It's just so comfy." He whines, tucking his cold hands into the pockets of your VERY expensive coat.

Ever since Felix has been beginning to visit you, he always seems to either steal your clothes or your snacks. You weren't too fond of his new habits and wanted your clothes returned since you barely had any left in your closet.

"Okay okay okay... You can have the coat but you must return my Hello Kitty hoodie tomorrow." You demanded, ruffling his chocolate brown locks.

He rested his head on your lap as you sat down next to him, his arms latched around your waist as he snuggled in closer. You weren't used to affection at all, the closest thing you got to it throughout your life was a pat on the back and a high five.

"You're such a pain sometimes." You sigh, cautiously raking through his hair which caused him to smile.

"Two things, you wouldn't invite me over if I was such a pain. And how am I a pain if I just cuddle you the whole time and chat." He countered, a sly glimmer brushing over his tapioca pearl eyes.

"You steal my stuff all the time." You explain, pointing at your coat which he was currently wrapped in.

"I don't steal everything."

"Name five things."

"Fine, your cat."

"You have joked about stealing him."

"Your food."

"You do all the time Lix."

"....... Oh! I've got one! Ha!"

"Fine, tell me then... I'm sure you're wrong."

"Your sex toys."

You gasped out loud, slapping his arms countless times as he laughed by how red your face turned. He never told you knowing you'd get embarrassed, but he found your bucket of toys last time he visited when he was searching for your extra fluffy blanket to take a cat nap in.

"How many did you see?" You asked, your tone much softer and bordering on shy sounding.

"Enough to know that you're a sub who has a lot of kinks." He teased, winking playfully as he was adoring you bashful state.

Felix found himself admiring your bashful state a bit too much, almost finding it cute by how blushy you were from the topic. He felt an urge to kiss your flaming cheeks, but held back not knowing if you'd take his feelings too well.

"I'll let you keep the Hello Kitty sweater if you never mention my sex toys again." You reason, slightly taken aback when you realize how long he's been staring at you.

Felix nodded, feeling slightly bad for making you so shy. But he made up for his teasing with a soft yet tight hug, still smelling of the cologne he bought when you first met. This time it was just the autumn breeze, which brought you a wave of comfort you weren't used to and never felt before.

1 week ago

You've found yourself admiring everything Felix did, to the way he pouted playfully when you rejected a hug or to the way his tone changed when you were feeling down. Everything about this man made your heart go into a frenzy, and you had no idea anyone was capable of doing this.

You've grown attached to Felix and feel lonely when he isn't with you, you've even considered asking him to move in with you.

"Hello? Earth to y/n." Felix commented, breaking you out of your lovesick gaze.

"Sorry, I'm just really tired from work." You half ways lied, truthfully tired but secretly just admiring the natural beauty of your close friend.

He smiled softly, brushing away some of the loose strands of hair that covered your face. His hands were always so warm and gentle, acting as if your were made of glass that could shatter at any moment. Any time he touched you it either warmed your heart or created a small pool in your panties.

"Why don't I tuck you into bed, and we can watch something till you fall asleep." Felix reassured, a hushed voice but the deepness still present during certain words.

You were in an oversized shirt with small lacy panties, Felix admired your beauty but didn't see it as sexual tension or sexual period. He just found you gorgeous no matter what you did or what you wore. And has even felt sexual tension with you more than once, but that was a different time and place than it was at the moment.

You didn't need to watch anything to fall asleep with Felix wrapped behind you. His voice alone was enough for you to completely destress and feel the hard work you've been doing finally catch up to you.

You were passed out asleep so you didn't notice Felix placing fluttering kisses all over your cheeks before he fell asleep wrapped around you. His head completely nuzzle into the crook of your neck, every hot breath he let out fanned onto your skin.

You woke up the next morning cold, not realizing you were missing a warm presence you never knew was even there. The moment you opened your eyes you were met with a warm dish of pancakes and a small note

'I had to leave for work but I didn't have the heart to wake you up. Enjoy the food - Felix.'

You giggled into the pillow next to you, fully aware that you were head over heels for the younger Aussie. You never thought you'd be attracted to someone younger until you met him, but you didn't mind since it was only by a year. You smushed your blushing face into his pillow, taking in the scent of the spring breeze cologne.

Now

It was hot outside, so much so that you thought you were going to melt into the couch. You didn't think Felix would be home until tomorrow when it was supposed to be cooler outside, so you stayed in your underwear and bra while sitting in front of the fan. Your hair and body were soaked from the cold shower you just took, and you knew if he walked in it would look rather... Sensual.

"Y/n, I know I'm home early but I brought cak-" Felix exclaimed, stopping mid sentence once he saw you and nearly dropped the cake.

You would've covered yourself with a blanket if it weren't for the fact that all of them were in a basket in your room since it was so warm out. You weren't in any lingerie or anything fancy, just a pink bra and cute heart panties. Which somehow made it worse for Felix.

"Why do you always do this?" Felix sighed rushing to the kitchen to place the cake in the fridge.

You were confused as to what you did, knowing you rarely ever show skin on purpose unless it comes to a situation like this where you would pass out from the heat if you wore something too thick. So you followed Felix to the kitchen, not really caring that you still had bare minimum on.

"What do I do?" You ask, your tone was serious but on the inside you were worried you annoyed the man you secretly adored.

"You tease me." He retorted, still confusing you since you again... Never purposely do.

"What do yo-"

"Y/n, you're in your underwear with wet hair and still slightly wet skin while sitting on the couch squirming in front of the fan. And yesterday you bent over me so your chest was literally in my face when you were reaching for a book you wanted to read. I like you a lot... And it takes every ounce of sanity in me to not take you right then and there. And when you cuddle into me during movie nights, or call me Lixie, or laugh at the lamest joke that no else is laughing at, or the way you scrunch your nose when you are annoyed... It makes me want to call you mine and I just want to kiss every inch of you and dose you in love. And it's hard when I truly don't know if you feel the same. "

"Lix I-"

"And you are so damn hard to read, one day you're all over me and the next you barely even give me a glance. And plus you probably don't want to date someone who's younger than you, your friends have even told me that and listed the men you have been with... Which have all been older than you. "

"Felix-"

"But it's hard to stay silent and act like I don't see you as a goddess who I want to be with and be called her boyfriend. Especially when you always wear strawberry chapstick and apply it to your already soft lips. And when you let out a sigh and completely let go whenever I hug you. Or how you can never sleep without holding onto something so you've gotten used to holding me, Instead of your stuffed No Face plushie that I bought you the day after I first met you.

"Yongbok-"

"Goddammit I love you, I love you so much and if I'm being honest I don't know if I can keep pretending like I'm alright just being you're friend or-"

Before he passes out from ranting so much you shut him up in a very satisfying way. You kissed the lips you've been craving for the past six months, and they felt better meshing with yours than you ever imagined. His hands were shaking for all of the built up emotions he just let out seconds ago, but you didn't stop kissing him until he got to calm down and realize you loved him too.

"Lixie, I love you too. And I would love to be your girlfriend." You murmured in a hushed tone, only inches away from his face as you both were still holding onto each other.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, a small playful glint sparkling in them when they reconnected once more. But a new wave a confidence was in this kiss, he cornered you against the counter as he began to nibble on your lip.

You've been with many guys before, but none of them have ever seen you naked or had sex with you. The farthest you have gone with someone was with your ex boyfriend Jaebum, who was your first makeout session and taught you how to use your tongue like a professional porn star.

Felix began leaving open mouthed kisses along your jaw line and neck, only stopping to suck and bite on sensitive spots of your flesh. Painting purple and red marks along your neck and collarbone. Just as his lips were diving into the valley of your breasts, he stopped himself and looked up at you.

"Are you okay with this. Because we can stop at anytime." He reassured, brushing away the wet pieces of hair that stuck to your face.

Everything felt fast and many people would think it was too soon, but you felt so comfortable with Felix and have had feelings for him since you first met. So it felt right, and your heart didn't feel any bit of anxiety when it came to letting Felix take you.

"I'm alright with it, but can we go to the bedroom?" You teased, not wanting your first time to be a serious fifty shades esc time.

He beamed you a kind smiles, lacing his hands with yours as he guided you to your bedroom. Which was lightly messy but still comfortable and tidy enough to not be considered gross. Felix detached from your grip to shut the dark curtains and close the door behind you.

"B-before we continue... Can I tell you something if you promise not to tease me?" You ask, a bit ashamed that your a virgin even though it wasn't uncommon for someone your age who is still considered quite young.

Felix nodded gently, his hands stroking up and down your arms as he waited for you to confess what you were hesitant on telling him.

"I'm a virgin... I haven't even been eaten out before." You sigh, not looking up at his eyes even though he didn't find it lame in the slightest.

"Don't be ashamed of it y/n, it just means I'll have to make it more special." He whispered, his lips pressing soft fluttering kisses to your cheeks as his hands roamed your back.

With that knowledge in mind, Felix rushed to the bathroom to steal the candles and rose petals you always store for your saturday bubble bath routine. He lit two on each bedside table and sprinkled a few rose petals across the bed and pillows.

Felix took your hand as he sat on the edge of the bed, guiding you onto his lap as he grinned at your softly. His tongue peeked out of his lips to wet them, before he pressed them against your once more. This time it still had the same confidence but it was much softer and slower. As if he wanted to take his time with you and make it memorable.

You bit his bottom lips lightly testing the waters to see if you were allowed permission, he groaned as your hips grinded against his growing erection. You didn't even realize what you were doing to him until he pushed your core closer to his clothed cock. The bulge in his jeans grinding against your clothed clit deliciously.

Your tongues were clashing in each other's mouth messily, you would suck on his tongue briefly as his licked striped on the roof of your mouth. You were whispering in the kiss, beginning to rut against him to enhance the euphoric feeling that made your clit begin to throb.

"Do want to feel something even better sweetheart?" He teased, bucking his hips into yours making you fall into him.

Felix flipped you over, stripping away his shirt and jeans. You've never seen him shirtless before, and truly was a heavenly sight with his gorgeous slim yet very toned body and matched with strong dancer thighs. Before he could ask for permission, you sat up slightly, unbuckling your bra and throwing it onto the floor. You both went in for a feverish kiss, both of you groaning and whimpering as you rutted against each other like bitches in heat.

He began to kiss down your neck, reaching the valley of your breasts until his lips hovered over your right nipple. He spit a small drop of saliva onto the erupt bud, before he engulfed it with his lips. Swirling it in circles it his tongue before letting go of it completely with a small pop.

You could feel the wetness in your core begin stain your panties. You moaned airily, running your fingers through his hair as he payed the same attention to your left nipple. He softly grazed his teeth across the very tip of the erect bud only to chuckle softly as let out a desperate moan that went straight to his throbbing bulge.

Felix began kissing his way down your tummy, sometimes switching between giving small kitty licks as he reached closer to where you needed him most. His fingers hooked under the fabric of your panties, pulling them down your legs until you were completely nude in front of him.

Your heart pounded in your chest as the realization that you were about to be eaten out hammered itself in your brain. So many worries slipped into your brain, did you shave enough? What if you smelled? What if you tasted bad? But all of it left when hit tongue first flicked against your clit. All you could see was stars as he sent you into euphoria.

You've never felt such pleasure before, it was almost intimidating by how good it felt. You were on the brink of screaming when he began to sickle on your clit and dark his tongue harsher into it. Small shrieks left your mouth as he lapped your pussy, switching his attention between your leaking hole and throbbing clit. When you were beginning to murmur how close you were, he decided to take the next step and stiff your hole with his fingers. He let them scissor you so that you would eventually get used to the stretch, he sucked on your clit harsher to try and distract you from the stretch of his two fingers.

You got use to his fingers and your loud shrieks of pleasure returned as they began to slowly dark in and out of your leaking hole. The sinful noises of slurping and squelching only making you come closer and closer to your orgasm.

"I-I'm cumm-" You couldn't even finish your seltence before he drove his fingers in and out of you sending you into an intense haze of pure pleasure.

Your legs shook as you came down from your high, Felix pulling you closer to his body as he calmed you down from your first actual orgasm.

"Do you want to stop here?" Felix whispered, stroking his fingers through your hair completely ready to ignore his needs and take care of you.

You shook your head softly, knowing you could take at least one more orgasm before calling the quits. Plus you truly wanted to see the man you've fallen in love with naked, but you would be very bashful if you admitted to it.

"I want to go the full way." You whispered, playing with his boxers causing him to moan rather loudly. Surprising both of you when it it happened.

This just proved how hard he truly was and how thoughtful and gentle he was with you, completely subsiding his own aching needs just to make sure you were okay and got what you wanted.

You pushed him to the bed, smirking confidently as you shimmed his boxers out from under him and threw them to god knows where in the room. Felix was about to protest on you riding him, wanting to take control and make sure your needs are met. But it was too late, since you were already sinking onto him.

The stretch was bearable, it was definitely a feeling that took time to get used to. So you sat there on his lap completely filled to the brim with his dick, Felix sat up wrapping his arms around you and letting you you slump into his body. After a couple of minutes he began to guide you up and down his length slowly.

The pain was beginning to mix with pleasure, before the pleasure completely took over. You began bouncing up and down his shaft with a faster pace, Felix now beginning to fall into your body as the pleasure was catching up to him.

You were so tight and so warm, it was nearly impossible to keep his composure when you felt so good. You were both holding onto each other as you both chased your highs, your hips experimenting by grinding down fully till you were full and swirling them around softly.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he mumbled absolute nonsense. His hand went back to your overstimulated clit, drawing rough circles, making you scream in pleasure as tears brimmed your eyes. Your clenching became tighter and more frequent, you increased the pace until you had to stop from the intense pleasure you were feeling. The the tight clench around him made his chase his high only seconds after.

Felix pulled out before spaying white ribbons onto your thighs. Both of you shaking and sticking together from the sweat you have both created due to the body heat.

Felix laid you back down onto the bed, grabbing a tissue from your nightstand as he ruffled rose petals out of his hair and swiping some off of his shoulder. He softly wiped his mess off of your thighs, and took a different tissue to wipe the rest of the remaining cum that was pooled in your core. He rubbed your legs reassuringly when you twitched at the sudden constant, too stimulated and finding it a bit much.

"Are you tired?" Felix asked, noticing the way you cuddled into your pillow.

You nodded without saying a word, but yet still smiling like an idiot. The thoughts of finally losing your virginity, and losing it to a complete angel of a man who you've been doting on for months. It was all so exciting and you couldn't stop the smile on your face even if it began to hurt your cheeks a tiny bit.

He pulled on a fresh pair of boxers before pulling you up to lift his shirt onto you, his lips leaving a small kiss to the tip of your nose by how cute you looked in his clothes. He cuddled behind you, rubbing shaped onto your tummy as he pressed kisses to your neck, jaw, and cheeks. All of the energy that was drained from you along with the calming presence of your new boyfriend made you fall asleep in an instant.

Felix looked at you one last time before he fell asleep, smiling to himself knowing that you were so special and were going to be the one for him.

380 notes · View notes

glossvante · 4 years ago

Text

Behind Closed Doors 01

Rated: M | 18+

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre: High school/Step-Siblings, Explicit smut.

Word Count: 5.1k

Part: One | Two |

Warning: Step-siblings, Explicit & graphic sexual content, Alcohol consumption, Language

Summary: After moving to a new city, a rager of a party and an intense, all consuming, mindless fuck with a tall dark stranger seemed to be exactly what you were craving. A one night stand never hurt anyone, right? Until of course, that stranger turned out to be your new step brother.

Note: I’ve been looking for a new step-sibling Jungkook fic for a while and couldn’t find one so I decided to write it myself sdjkdjfjk. This chapter is more setting up the rest of the story but I hope you guys like it! Also, the other bts members make brief appearances as the story progresses, as well as a few blackpink girls. I’m newer to tumblr so if you like the fic please show some love & some feedback and I’ll upload part two soon. Love you guys and hope you enjoy ;).

Part One

You realized your room had turned into somewhat of a shit show while getting ready, as per usual. Nothing you couldn’t fix later though, you had enough on your mind right now. You were mildly panicked while getting dressed because you had to look at least somewhat attractive tonight. It was the first party you’d been invited since you moved here 3 weeks ago and you wanted to make a good impression. Moving away, changing high schools and leaving behind all your friends in the middle of the year wasn’t the most ideal situation for you, to say the least. You tried as long as you could to avoid accepting the reality of everything but the first day of school is when it really hit. Considering the fact that your last school wasn’t even half as big or well-funded as your new one, it was an adjustment figuring everything out. You were anxious about not knowing a single person the entire day until you met Lisa and Jennie in physics. The three of you guys sorta just clicked and became friends with ease. They showed you around and it relieved some of your social anxiety to know that there were at least a few cool people here.

Earlier in the day, Jennie texted you, inviting you to a party at her ex-boyfriends place. You hadn’t met him yet and were slightly confused as to why Jennie parties with her ex but she explained that her and Taehyung were cool with each other now. She also mentioned that pretty much everyone else in your senior class was going to be there too. Hence why you needed to look hot as fuck.

You studied your reflection in the mirror, deciding wether or not to change your outfit for the third time in the past 10 minutes. Yup, you needed to. You lifted the dress off of your body with a sigh and returned to your closet, hoping to find anything remotely cute at this point. Shortly after making another mess, you came across an old satin black dress. You picked it up and held it to your body, wondering if it would still fit, it had been a while since the last time you wore it. It couldn’t hurt to just try it on, you thought. You slipped the dress on over your head and adjusted it to your body before reaching towards the small of your back, praying to God it would zip up.

Finally, you were able to get it closed. You turned your body at all angles in the mirror to get an extensive view of your look. The dress had become a bit too form-fitting and an maybe an inch too short on you over time but you looked...good. Finally, you thought, you could work with this. You knew your mom would never let you get away with it though. To compromise, you decided to throw a sweatshirt on over the dress to cover up, at least until you left the house. You threw your lipgloss, phone, and all the necessities into your handbag and rushed downstairs to say goodbye to your mom.

You opened her rooms door and stuck your head in, shocked to see her getting ready to go out as well. “Where are you going?” You asked, confused. She didn’t mention she had any plans. “John invited me out. He said it’s a surprise.” She said excitedly, with half of her attention focused on styling her hair. “Again? The same guy?” You asked. After your parents divorced when you were young, your mom became somewhat of a serial dater. No one guy was ever right for her or stuck around long enough. If you were being honest, you stopped keeping track of your moms love life a while ago. “Yes the same guy.” She replied with a slight attitude. You were taken aback by that, this had to be the longest she’s been consistently seeing one guy. You knew she was glad you guys were able to find a house in the area, so she could see him more often but you didn’t think much of it at the time. Maybe she was finally starting to get serious with someone. You hadn’t met him yet but now, you were starting to get curious. “Alright, I’m gonna go but have fun on your date.” You replied getting ready to turn and leave. “Wait, you’re hanging out with Jennie tonight right? Tell her I say Hi.” She said. You almost forgot for a moment that you lied to her about the party. So what if she thinks you’re going to a girls night out with Jennie? You figured the less she knows, the less she’ll worry. And technically speaking, you weren’t really lying to your mom, you actually were going to hang out with her tonight. Or at least that’s what you told yourself. “Yeah, uh I will. See you later! Love you!” You said. “Okay bye, love you!” She replied as you left, shutting the door behind you.

You almost thought you had the wrong address when your gps began taking you up into the hills. Even though you were new to the area, you knew only rich people lived up here. Your jaw dropped when you finally pulled up to your destination, going back to your texts to make sure you put the right one in. It was a massive house, like some shit you’d see in a magazine or on TV. Jennie’s ex must be rich rich you thought to yourself. There were a bunch of cars parallel parked on the side of the street, so you pulled in and did the same. It really did seem like everyone was here. You quickly checked yourself in the car mirror, reapplying your lip and fixing your hair before heading inside. You could hear loud music pour out of the function as soon as you stepped out of your car, thankfully there weren’t many other houses nearby to complain about the noise. One of the many perks of living in luxury you supposed.

Your anxiety started to kick in as you headed in through the front door with a few strangers, losing them in the crowd as you entered. Woah. You definitely didn’t go to parties like this at your old school. Red neon lights saturated the air in every room, a dense cloud of smoke lingered above the crowd and the music followed you wherever you went. You tried to take it all in as made your way through the crowd hoping to find a single recognizable face. You walked through the living room and entered the kitchen, shocked by how many bottles of alcohol were just laying around, expensive ones too. You poured yourself a diluted mixed drink in attempt to calm your nerves.

“Y/N!!!!!” You heard you’re name in a high pitched scream from behind you. It was Jennie, she jumped up and gave you a hug from behind. “I was looking for you! God you scared me.” You admitted with a laugh. “Oops sorryyy.” She apologized, she was entirely too giggly and spoke with a slur. You could tell she was a few drinks ahead of you. “You look so hot tonight what the fuck?” She exclaimed, a too little loud. “Thanks.” You said with a smile, flattered by the compliment. “What are you doing?” She asked looking down at your cup. “You need a shot! Not whatever this is. Do one with me!” She pleaded, you considered it for a moment. “I don’t know, I don’t wanna get too drunk.” You explained. She rolled her eyes at that. “Okay bitch, first of all why not, and second of all come on! A couple shots never hurt anyone.” You saw the look on her face, Jennie could be pretty convincing when she wanted to be. Fuck it right? After all, you were at a party. “Okay fineee.” You agreed reluctantly. She was ecstatic at your response, immediately reaching for a dark liquor and pouring both of you a shot. You clinked glasses before taking them down, feeling an immediate bitterness in your mouth and a warmth in your chest. “That tastes like shit.” You told her, wiping a drop from your lips. She laughed at that. “Trust me you can’t even feel it after a few.” She poured another shot for you and herself. You both braced yourselves and took it back. She lied, the second one definitely tasted worse. You cringed from the taste. “The faces you make are too funny.” Jennie teased while laughing. She reached for the bottle one more time and started to pour another round. “Are you trying to get me drunk? Cus if you want me or something just say that.” You said, trying to holding back your laughter. She shoved you in response, only mildly amused by your words. “I hate you.” She handed you the last shot and you both took it down.

No Idea by Don Toliver began playing loudly from the speakers and Jennie screamed in response. “Ah! I love this song! Dance with me?”Jennie asked, extending her hand to you. You rolled your eyes before taking it, allowing her to drag you to the living room. You weren’t exactly a talented dancer, like Jennie, so usually you’d feel a bit awkward while dancing but that wasn’t the case tonight. Maybe it was just because the crowd was so live or the music was thumping or those shots you just took, but you were feeling right. Jennie put her hands on your waist and pulled you closer to her, guiding you into the rythym. You both moved as if your bodies had synced with the music, dancing all over each other. For a moment it felt like you and everyone else in the room were on the same wavelength. While dancing, you locked eyes with a guy leaning against a the wall, a distance away from you. His eyes were dark and peircing, shaded by long locks of his jet black hair. He took a sip of his drink and a slight smirk crept onto his face as he realized he’d caught your attention, as if he’d had his eyes on you for a while. You kept your focus him on while you were dancing, observing him as he gave you a long look from your head to your toes.

In the midst of the moment, the two of you were interrupted by Jennie. “There’s no fucking way.” She said, shocked. You quickly turned your attention to her, wondering what she was talking about. Her smiled had faded and her body stilled as she looked at something in the crowd. As if she had seen something she wished she didn’t. “Jennie.” You said concerned. You tried to follow her line of sight to see what was going on, scanning the room. “What’s wrong?” You asked loudly, leaning into her. “Fucking Taehyung.” She gestured towards a far corner. You turned to look, only to see a guy you assumed to be Taehyung with his tongue halfway down some girls throat and his eyes on Jennie. He winked at her, like he was glad that she had seen. Gross. You couldn’t help but feel shitty for her. Guess everything with them wasn’t cool after all.

“I’m sorry. Fuck him.” You said loudly, trying to console her over the sound of the music. You could see she was hurt but she hid it behind a wall of anger. “Two can play at that game you know.” She replied calmly. “I invented that game.” You hadn’t really seen her like this before, she was lethal and you could feel it. She pulled away from you. “I’ll be back.” She shouted. “Wait what? where are you going?” You asked, worried about her. “I’m fine I just have to do something. I’ll find you later okay? Sorry!” She said, before walking away, leaving you in the middle of the crowd. You didn’t fully believe her when she said she was fine but if she wanted some time alone, you were gonna let her have it. It didn’t stop you from worrying though.

You sighed before shuffling your way out of the living room and to a quieter spot against the wall. You pulled out your phone to check it. You sent a few snaps to some old friends and a text to update your mom so she wouldn’t worry. After that, you headed back into the kitchen in search of something to drink that wasn’t hard liquor. All that dancing made you thirsty. You opened the fridge, allowing the light from inside to pour out, mixing with the neon red tint already in the air. You bent over to look inside for a water bottle, juice, or even a godamn soda. After shuffling some things around, you came up dry. All you could find was extra beer. Did these people only drink alcohol? You shut the door of the fridge in disappointment and turned to walk away, only to be stopped by the view in front of you. The same eyes you spotted from a distance earlier were now right in front of you. You studied all of him for a moment, just now being able to get real look at him. He was leaned against the kitchen island coolly, looking right at you. It wasn’t hard to figure out that he was attractive, in pretty much every single physical way there was. You found yourself admiring his style and shiny silver rings over his black ink tattoos. You nearly let yourself get lost in his picture before the thought occurred to you. How long had he been standing there? You immediately felt timid, realizing that if he was there for long enough, he for sure had a perfect view of your ass while you were bending over in the fridge. Now was probably a good time for you to stop starting at him say something, like anything.

“Hi.” You said, regretting it immediately. Hi? Really? In your defense, it was all you could get out in front of his naturally intimidating presence. At least you broke the silence, you thought. “Hi.” He responded with a soft smile on his face. “How come I haven’t seen you around here before?” He inquired, taking a sip from his red solo cup. “I uh.. I just moved here a couple weeks ago.” You explained, wondering why he had taken a sudden interest in specifically you. “Ah that explains it.” He said nonchalantly. “Explains what?” You raised an eyebrow. “Why we haven’t hung out before.” He finished. It was obvious to you he meant more with his words by the look on his face. “So is that why you were watching me earlier? You wanna ‘hang out’ with me?” You teased, being thankful that alcohol gave you more courage than you ever would have sober. He chuckled at that before taking a step toward you. You notably felt your heart rate increase. There was a part of you that wanted to take a step back, increasing the space between you two but you ultimately ignored it. He leaned into you to speak in your ear, just loud and close enough so you could hear his words and feel the warmth on his breath on your neck. “You know why I was watching you dance, just like I know why you’re still standing here, talking to me.” He withdrew slightly, now facing you. His focus shifted from your eyes down to your lips for just a moment before returning. Fuck. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t melt a little right there. He was confident if anything, and nothing turned you on more. You could smell the alcohol on him, his lips still wet from his most recent sip. Lust and drinks were dangerous combination and he seemed determined to get his fix.

”So what are you going to about it?” You asked calmly, faking just enough confidence to pretend like he didn’t have you dying inside. A devilish smirk appeared on his face as if he were playing out the answer in his head. You could feel yourself get warmer, your cheeks had to have been noticeably red by now. You had an overwhelming feeling he could see right through you. He didn’t give you an answer and instead, pulled away returning to his drink, seeming all too satisfied with himself and his effect on you. “Hey!” You heard a voice call out to you from a distance, both of you turned to look at the source. It was Jennie, finally returning. Worse timing just didn’t exist, you thought. She gestured at you to come near her and you nodded in agreement. Hesitantly, you pulled away from the kitchen but not before sharing one last loaded look with those dark eyes, as if there was more to be said, more to be done, and not nearly enough hours in the night for any of it. He let you leave without a word, and the interaction lingered fresh in your mind.

You walked up to Jennie. “Hey! Where’d you go?” You asked. “I kinda did something bad.” She admitted. You were instantly curious and slightly worried at the same time. “Don’t scare me, what happened?” You asked. She hesitated a moment before answering. “I kinda... blew Tae’s best friend. In his bed.” She laughed, covering her smile with her hand. What? You were wondering if you heard that right. “No you fucking didn’t. Who?!” You inquired in awe, shocked but impressed at the lengths this girl would go to for revenge. You made a mental note to not get on her bad side. “Jimin.” She pointed him out in the crowd so you could put a face to the name. “He’s always had a thing for me so it was easy.... and quick.” She joked, now making you laugh, you shook your head, still in a state of disbelief. Okay so obviously, Jennie wasn’t the best at dealing with her hurt and her & Taehyung definitely didn’t have the most healthy relationship but they’ve been on and off for like two years now, you figured they’re probably used to shit like this. And even if you didn’t completely agree with her method of revenge, Taehyung had it coming. You knew she was on one tonight, already hurting, and you figured it’d be easier just to be supportive. “Honestly, he kind of asked for it when he made out with that bitch in front of you.” You pointed out, she laughed at that. Your smile faded as you looked to your left to see a more-than-pissed-off Taehyung walking towards you two. Looks like news traveled here, fast. “Jennie.” You gestured towards him to let her know he was coming, by the look on his face it was obvious he knew. “Here come the fireworks.” Jennie announced under her breath. He walked up to you both, sparing you a moments glance before grabbing Jennie by her arm. “What’s up babe?” She asked casually. He wasn’t having it. “We need to talk.” His voice was so low it was kind of scary, he pulled her to the side and she went along, only with some resistance.

Once again, you were on your own. You decided to find a bathroom to freshen yourself up a bit in the mean time. Unfortunately, all the ones downstairs were occupied or had muffled moans from behind the door. You decided to head upstairs, hoping to find an unoccupied one there. Most of the doors were locked, storage, or closets. You were close to giving up before you found a room at the end of the hall was empty and unlocked. A bedroom. You didn’t think anyone would mind if you used the mirror, so you walked in real quick and did. You rearranged your hair and reapplied your lip gloss.

As you were finishing up your last coat of gloss, you heard the door creak open behind you and shut. You immediately turned to look, surprised to see the same guy from earlier. “Hi.” He said with a smile, leaning against the door. “You stalking me now?” You teased, putting the gloss back into your handbag and setting it on the side table near you. “Can you blame me? We didn’t get to finish our... talk.” He said, locking the door behind him. With the sound of that click, it became clear your meeting had a different context. You could feel the atmosphere in the room change to become... heavier almost. He approached you, deleting the space between you with each movement. It also didn’t help that you already had your back against a wall, there really was nowhere to go this time. You swallowed a lump in your throat you didn’t realize was there to begin with. “You know...” He began, getting closer to you now than before, “I can’t stop thinking about you in this fucking dress.” He spoke lowly. You saw his lust-filled eyes staring back at you as his hands reached down to your waistline, tracing the edges of your body. You felt chills follow as his hand found its way from your hips down to your outer thighs, lightly grazing your ass. “Yeah?” You asked, at a loss of words due to your proximity to him. You were rendered practically helpless to his touch, there wasn’t much your body allowed you to do in his presence except submit to his will. “Yeah.” He replied. Once he reached the lower hem of your dress he let himself teeter at the edge. You bit your lip, maintaining eye contact, knowing what you craved at your core, praying he knew too.

He let hands linger on you a moment before he slipped two fingers under the lower band of your dress, you immediately felt the coldness of his hands against the soft skin of your outer thighs as he lifted the fabric slowly, just high up enough to have access to you. And all you did, was let him. He placed a hand at your center, feeling the wetness that had soaked through your panties. You blushed, embarrassed at the wet mess you’d become throughout the night. “Fuck, you’re so wet...” He said, speaking in a tone much lower than before. “...all for me?” He asked. It definitely was. The built up tension mixed between you two was enough to get you there. You were flustered by his practically immediate hold on you, all you wanted to do was anything he wanted you to. All you wanted to say was everything and anything he wanted to hear. “Mmhm.” You nodded, your faces closer than ever. He seemed satisfied with your response because in turn, he gave you the friction you were craving. Your breathing became unsteady as he let his hand grind against you outside the fabric of your panties, pressing his middle finger into your slit with the perfect amount of pressure. He created just enough need burning inside of you for you to know it wasn’t nearly enough. He enjoyed teasing you, it was all over his face. You needed more. You craved more.

And as if he could read your mind, he finally slipped his hand underneath the waistband of your panties and stimulated your clit with his bare hand. You let out a a whine as he felt all of you, high off the sensation of skin to skin contact. Every warm and wet bit of you was in his hands. “Fuck.” You said breathily. He moved softly, in small circles at first, setting every single one of your nerve endings on fire. He could see the satisfaction in your face, you couldn’t hide it even if you tried at this point. He increased his pace, hearing the sounds of your scattered whines and whimpers gradually increase in volume. He was relentless, reaching the most sensitive parts of you and exacting completely and utter pleasure. His forehead rested against yours as your eyes shut in pleasure. It felt as if there was some overwhelming magnetic pull drawing you into each other, you couldn’t really tell who leaned in first as your soft pink lips collided desperately with his. You moaned into his mouth. He slipped his tongue inside your mouth, gliding perfectly against yours in a heavenly rhythm. You felt a kind of intimacy within the kiss that was rare to you. Of course he was a good kisser, like really good.

You lightly bit his lip as he slipped a finger inside of you. It was as if kissing you only set him off more. You adjusted to him with ease considering how wet he had you before even touching you. He began pumping in and out of you, creating a new sensation only adding to the hopeless mess you’d become due to him. He moved inside you at the perfect angle. You reluctantly pulled your lips away from his for a moment so you could catch your breath. “Please.” You moaned softly, stunned with pleasure. “Please what?” He asked sternly, as if he wanted you to use your words, describing the sensations you were feeling, how he made you feel. “Please d- don’t stop.... please? It feels so fucking amazing.” You pleaded, feeling your impending climax within reach. He inserted another finger in you, curling them both inside you to hit your sweet spot with every pump. Fuck. That was it. How did he seem to have every inch of your body figured out already? In response, you, without consciously realizing it, began grinding your hips into him hopelessly. Your mouth opened in pleasure.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He asked lowly, studying every part of you, he was so enamored with the moment, there was nothing in this world that could pull either of you away from this. You were almost too high off him to respond, but you nodded frantically as another moan escaped your lips. “Yes.” You admitted. You could feel your orgasm nearing as you slowly lost your others senses. “You’re gonna cum all over my hand?” He asked, moving himself faster somehow, you didn’t think it was possible. “Fuck, yes.” All you could feel now was him, pushing you to the edge, moving his fingers to penetrate inside of you at a pace you’d never felt before. “Cum for me.” He ordered, ready to witness you fall apart in front of him, all because of him. You obeyed, feeling a wave of euphoria crash into you and travel to the depths your body, cumming hard. Your cunt pulsated around his fingers as your body trembled in complete physical pleasure. This had to be heaven. The only thought in your head while you were in the clouds? You wanted more. How could you still crave more?

When you opened your eyes, returning back to planet earth, your breathing returned to normal again. All you could see was him in front of you. Those dark eyes were filled with want. You let your eyes trail down to the bulge between his legs. His cock was begging to be released from the restraining fabric of his clothes. Poor guy, he was so focused on you the whole time, he needed immediate relief. You slowly reached your hand down to the waist band of his pants. He didn’t make a single movement, as if he didn’t want to miss a moment of you. You slipped your hands underneath his pants, tracing the length of him from outside his briefs. He was so fucking hard. You wondered how he managed to fight the urge to turn you over and fuck you right there against the wall.

You dropped down to your knees and lowered his clothing, allowing him to reveal all of himself to you. You looked him in the eyes as you let your tongue wet the underside of his cock until it reached the head. He watched intently as you let your tongue slide across his slit before taking the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his hypersensitive head. Teasing him, just like he did you. You heard a suppressed moan from deep inside him. That was enough to motivation for you take all of him into your into your mouth. The warm wet softness surrounded him as your mouth fit tight around his cock. You heard his breath hitch. The sight of your face on him mixed with the sensation, it was just enough to drive him crazy. He was leaking with so much precum, you could taste it. He slowly began rocking his hips into your throat. You felt him sink into further and further into pleasure with each thrust. He threw his head back as you finally took him deep into your throat. Holding your breath, you rocked yourself back and forth on his cock. The soft tightness of your throat bobbing up and down on the head of his cock was overwhelming enough for his eyes to roll back into his head. “Fuckkk.” He moaned breathily, it was obvious he was already close to his limit.

“S-stop.” He said hesitantly. You ignored it and continued, determined to make him cum as hard as you just did. “Don’t make me cum. I-...” He paused what he was saying, distracted by the wave of pleasure he felt as you took him deep into your warm throat again, disregarding his words. “I’ve been dying to get inside you all night.” He admitted breathily, in attempt to get you to stop sucking his cock so he could stuff it inside you instead. Your insides throbbed at the thought of it. Although you wouldn’t mind having him inside you, like at all, you knew he was close to riding out his orgasm and you wanted to see the look his face when he came, from this angle. You looked up at him innocently and kept going. He tried to back up slightly, but you didn’t let him. “Fuck.” He said under his breath, tired of trying so hard hold back his release. Everything he was saying went out the window as he gave into his most primal desires, rocking his hips into you, chasing his orgasm, and contradicting himself once more. “God you feel so fucking good.” He mumbled as his thrusts gradually became sloppier and more desperate. He reached a hand down to entangle in your hair, pushing himself deeper into you as his body tensed up and stilled. He let out a moan as he came down your throat. You could feel the warmth of the large pool of cum in you, you swallowed it all cleanly.

He pulled out of you once his orsgasm faded. Seeming satisfied that you swallowed. You stood up and cleaned off your mouth, and readjusted your dress. Assessing how bad the damage was to your appearance from what you two had just done. He put himself back in his pants and did the same in the mirror. There was an kind of afterglow that surrounded the both of you. You looked at him through the reflection in the mirror. “Sorry I didn’t stop.” You said with a smile, realizing afterward that you probably should have. He returned a smile and shrugged. “It’s fine. You can make it up to me next time.”

He left you with those words and exited the room. You found yourself wondering what he meant by “next time” and if there would be one. How could there be? You didn’t even know the guys name, or number, or anything substantial about him really. You shrugged it off, deciding not to think too much into it, sometimes a one night stand was just that. A one night stand.

End of Part One

880 notes · View notes

xoluvx · 3 years ago

Text

mirrorball; t.holland

» pairing: tom holland x reader » song: mirrorball » word count: 1.1K

If you asked Tom what it was about this stranger that was making him laugh harder than he'd ever laughed in the past few months, he wouldn't know what to tell you.

Maybe it was the comforting feeling that radiated from you every time you smiled. Or the way you tossed your head back laughing like he'd just told the funniest joke you'd ever heard.

The two of you sat near the back of the crowded bar. He was leaning his elbow on the small table as you leaned your arm on the same table only a few inches away from his.

It'd been fate. Him bumping into you.

Yeah, he'd pretty much ruined your favorite shirt. Stained by the sticky glass of beer he'd been carrying and your own drink half poured on yourself. Instead of freaking out, you'd just stood there in shock. More overwhelmed by the cold liquid seeping through your shirt.

Now that you sat in front of him, the stain was like a perfectly created work of art marking your acquaintance, which quickly turned in the two of you laughing and acting like you were long time friends.

"I don't usually do this," he admitted leaning closer. Close enough for you to hear him clearly over the roaring music. The comment caught you off guard like what the two of you were doing was something out of the ordinary.

But, for him, it was out of the ordinary.

It wasn't every day that Tom Holland went to a bar and met a girl he instantly connected with. It was totally of him to spill his drink on said girl, but apart from being embarrassed, he wouldn't have taken the time to really get to know you. Because in many cases, he probably wouldn't ever see you again.

"I almost forgot you were the Tom Holland," you emphasized the last words as a small smile plastered across your face. You heard him half chuckle, half scoff. He didn't feel like the Tom Holland.

"Do you want to get out of here?" you said, the smile on your face spreading wider. Tom's eyes shone as a small set of wrinkles formed around the corners of his eyes.

"Okay," he breathed pulling out his phone quickly. He was texting someone. "Just have to let my mates know I'm leaving," he slid the phone back into the pocket of his jeans. You hopped off the stool leaving your empty glass on the table.

You led the way out, Tom close behind. You could feel him tracing your tracks. The bodies on the dance floor knocked into you and Tom quickly held your arm preventing them from knocking you all the way down. The gesture was instinctive. Natural.

When you finally felt the cold air hit your face, you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Where do you want to go?" you almost whispered looking at the fairly empty streets.

"Where can we go this late?" he asked chuckling while placing his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

You had to remind yourself you were two strangers, one who could be recognized anywhere he went. You started walking backwards waving at him to follow you.

"What is this?" he asked as you came to a stop.

"I know you're famous, but you've never seen a gas station store?" you asked furrowing your brows. You giggled shaking your head, hoping he'd understand you were joking.

"I meant what are we doing here?" he followed as you opened the door walking into the empty store bright with fluorescent lighting. Walking to the fridge with the ice-cream, you pulled out two ice-cream bars.

Tom followed you like a lost puppy until you were outside unwrapping the ice-cream handing one to him. He stared at it like he'd never seen an ice-cream bar before. "You can eat it," you said taking a bit out of yours.

"That's probably not good for your teeth," he said licking his.

Shrugging, you smiled cheekily before leading him down the street. "Where to now?" he asked. You watched him struggle as he licked the ice-cream bar which was quickly melting in his hand.

"I just like to walk," you said slowing your pace so you were walking side to side. His shoulder brushed against yours as you bit into your ice-cream bar. You eyes were set on watching the group of people walking a few feet in front of you, you didn't notice Tom was looking at you.

He watched the way you savored your ice-cream. He wondered what was going on in your head. Wondering how you could walk with certainty and with no plan. Something he always had figured out for him. Plans.

Then he stopped abruptly, cursing under his breath. Turning to him you saw some of his ice-cream decorating his own shirt.

"If you bit into it, you wouldn't have that problem." A soft laugh escaped your body as you watched him wipe the shirt with his fingers.

The two of you stood with your stained shirts and the traces of a spontaneous night. A night that neither of you wanted to be over.

"Thank you," Tom's voice was soft as he looked up from his shirt. The ice-cream had melted quickly and his fingers were a sticky mess. Furrowing your brows with a sheepish smile, you shrugged. Was he being sarcastic? You couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry," you almost whispered feeling like you'd somehow gotten in trouble.

"No, I mean thank you for this. This is the most fun I've had in a long time," he exclaimed as the two of you walked to a trash can nearby. to discard the popsicle sticks.

"Despite ruining your shirt? Which might be most expensive than anything I own," you joked watching the stain that'd only gotten worse after he tried to clean it off with his fingers. Tom chuckled and that sound made your heart warm. It was genuine.

"I ruined yours first," he shrugged as you smiled looking down at the stain on your own shirt.

When you looked up his eyes were fixed on yours. Even in the dim light of the night, you could see his eyes shinning as a small smile spread across his lips. The warm feeling in your heart spreading up to your cheeks.

"Where to now?" he asked as he stretched out his arm. His fingers were spread inviting yours to lock in the crevices. Confidently, you intertwined your fingers with his, strutting into the night not really knowing where the night was taking you, but not really caring.

folklore masterlist

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland flu #folklore #folklore fics #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #mirrorball fic

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bluearson · 4 years ago

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Beautiful Girl

Request: Dabi’s sweetheart is insecure and thinks she’s not good enough for him. Warning: This one gets a little bit spicy at the end so look out You met each other in the winter, on your way to work at a quaint little café. He caught your eye and over your shoulder you swear you caught him checking you out as you walked away. It had been weeks since you saw the stranger and you almost forgot all about the brief encounter you shared. You tried your best to forget about him, you almost even succeeded but there the mysterious stranger stood. You could barely make eye contact when he stood at your register. You exchanged pleasantries and he was gone just as quickly as he came.

He kept coming back though, and eventually you began holding small conversations with him. Your coworkers even commented on how the last time he came in, he asked if you were working. When they told you weren’t in he thanked them and just left. The news flustered you quite a bit, it was something that stayed on your mind a lot longer than it probably should have. A few days had passed since then, and it still was fresh as ever in your mind. Geez.. how embarrassing it was to admit you had developed a crush on someone you met through work. “Hey Y/N.” The voice cut through your cloud of thoughts like a butter knife. You looked around and there you saw him, that same stranger who you saw often. You opened your mouth about to ask him how did you know my name? When you remembered that you wore a nametag at work, of course he knew your name. “H-Hi” You stuttered out, your cheeks redding as your eyes locked. “Can I help you with something..?” “I believe you can. It’s quite a difficult task you see.. I seem to have a dinner reservation for two. But unfortunately it’s rather expensive to cancel so quickly and I don’t think I could bear to go to dinner all by my lonesome. So, I was hoping that I could take you out to dinner, my treat.” HUH?! You were dumbfounded and took a step back from him, nearly stumbling over the uneven pavement. He was swift on his feet. His left hand encircled your wrist gently as though you were a fragile thing and he steadied you back onto your feet. “Careful now,” He cooed into your ear “Wouldn’t want you to get a concussion.” His right hand felt warm on the small of your back, the sudden touch nearly made you jump. He was flustering you, and he was enjoying every second of it. Your checks felt so hot you swear you thought he’d call you a tomato. The sound of your heart- could he hear it? It was beating so loud in your ears. This was so embarrassing! You covered your face with your hands and knelt down to the ground. Hopefully if you just made yourself small enough maybe he’d stop teasing you and just go away already. Time had passed, it felt like eons. You peeked through your to see if he was gone but alas, he was right there, squatting before you. You squeaked in surprise. “Sorry to say little mouse, I’m not going anywhere until you give me an answer. Will you be my date Friday evening?” “Sure.” You offered weakly, you lowered your hands from your face and rose back up. The stranger held out a hand towards you and made a grabbing motion. “Uhm..?” “Phone.” He bluntly replied. You tentatively held out your phone and watched as he entered in his contact information. You looked at the contact name and then back at him. “Your name is D?” “Sorry, first letter only until we know each other better sweetheart. Nothing personal. I’ll be around.. who knows.. maybe I’ll even swing by your little cafe again for some pastries.” He winked at her, “I like to think you made them yourself.” The smug look on his face as he walked away was burned into your memory. Friday evening. Why did part of you feel like you weren’t going to survive an evening alone with him? You arrived at the restaurant a few minutes before the time that you were texted. You felt nervous but also excited. It wasn’t often that you got the chance to dress up and wear something nice. Your mind began to wonder as you thought about your date. “Hey” A familiar voice, hot breathe against your ear and an arm suddenly wrapped around your shoulder holding you close. You tensed up initially but relaxed as you glanced over to greet your date with a smile. “You clean up nice.” You noted that he even tried styling his hair for the evening. “Uhm, sorry if I’ve kept you waiting long.” “Hush little mouse, you didn’t keep me waiting.” He escorted you over to the host and whispered something to them. They nodded and gathered two menus and showed you to your table. The evening was pleasant, although you spent the majority of your time talking. You weren’t sure if he was listening to everything you said and kept worrying if you were doing something wrong. “Sorry.. if I’m blabbering on and on, you can always tell me to stop talking if you don’t care.” “I like listening to you talk, I like your voice.. and I like the things you have to say. I’m sorry I’m not really much of a talker. I don’t really like to talk about myself and well.. I’m just enjoying the view.” You smiled at him but on the inside you were absolutely freaking out. You weren’t sure you heard him correctly but asking him if he said what you thought he said was a million times worse. Winter had come and gone and Spring was in full swing. You still couldn’t believe that the same man who used to torment you with his flirting was your boyfriend. You’ve been together for a while now. You were certain that you liked him, maybe you were even ready to say I love you for the first time. You muttered it to him, whispered into his chest when you’d cuddle together after a long day at work. But you’ve never clearly told him, “I love you” yet. It was a mix of reasons why, you didn’t know how to anticipate his reaction and that scared you but also deep down you wondered, why he kept wanting to be around you. What made you stand out against the sea of other girls in the world? Why out of all the people he could date, he chose you? You kept this all to yourself of course. He’d send you nice little songs when he was missing you. He’d leave behind his hoodies when he had to go on trips for work. He no longer was the stoic man who’d unrelentingly tease you and try to push your buttons to fluster you. Behind closed doors he was the softest man you’ve ever known. You kept a scrapbook he helped put together with you, it made missing him a little less hard when he’d be gone for long periods of time. When he’d come home, you’d practically jump into his arms as you threw yourself at him. He always managed to catch you, giving your face a full assault of kisses as if to make up for lost time. “I’ve missed you little mouse.” “I’ve missed you too Dabi” You cupped his face as you stared into his eyes and pressed your foreheads together. You weren’t your usual chipper self but you tried to mask it. There was a lot weighing on your mind, namely the whole fact that this man- was your boyfriend. You still couldn’t believe it. Even after your nights of passion, you’d still half-expect that he slipped away during the middle of the night. That or you just had a vivid dream, but the soreness that you felt was far too real to possibly be fake. “Hey Dabi...” You whispered quietly. He hummed in response as he opened an eye. “Is this a dream?” You asked tentatively. “I.. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way or anything but, I’m a little worried about our future together.” “I don’t know if we’re really there to talk about marriage quiet yet...” He shifted closer, pulling you into a hug. “Unless there’s something else going on that I’m not aware of?” “I just.. I’m a little scared one day you’ll get up and walk out of my life and disappear on me.” You burried your face into his chest as you sniffled, trying your best to not let him see you cry. “I’m not.. there are other people who are better than me. You.. You deserve better than me.” You trembled in his arms. He stared down at you he rubbed your back. “I’m sorry.. that you’ve had people before in your life that have hurt you like that. People who’ve abandoned you.. but I’m not like that little mouse. I love you. Is there something else that you need? Some way that I can prove to you how much I love you?” “No.. the world is full of attractive, beautiful girls. You don’t love me. You’re just making fun of me.. and when it stops being fun to fluster me.. you’ll leave.” You broke down into sobs, you didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want those words at all to come out of your mouth. But still, he held you tight as if it was the only thing that was keeping you from crumbling in his arms. “You’ll get bored of me one day..” “Is that what you’re afraid of? Not being interesting enough for me? Not attractive enough?” He cupped your chin once you calmed down enough and wiped away your tears. “You’re more than just an attractive, beautiful girl to me though. I think you’re a gorgeous angel. I could never get bored of you.” He planted a kiss on your forehead as he rubbed your back some more. “I’m surprised we’ve made it this far. I’m always so scared that one day I’ll say something too snarky for you. That I’ll tease you so much you end up hating me for it. I never meant for you to feel like I’m just teasing you to make fun of you. I like to tease you because its cute when you blush. I like seeing you get so bashful you try to hide from me.” He grasburped your hand and kissed your inner wrist. “I love everything about you.. I love that you miss me as much as I miss you.” You sniffled as you listened to him. His words soothed you a little. “I spent so long hating my body.. the way I looked and you.. there you are, a pretty thing, a gorgeous absolute fucking goddess.. sweeter than honey. You don’t care about my scars.. you’ve never asked about them.” “Goddess...?” You asked quietly. “Fuck yeah you’re a fucking Goddess.” He grinned at you, “With your permission of course, I’d like to pay worship.” He began planting soft kisses along your collarbone and down your breasts. “So please, as the man who worships you, may I have the privilege of worshipping my goddess?” “Y-Yes.” You nodded as your cheeks grew hot from embarrassment. Dabi peppered your skin with kisses, taking his sweet time especially around your sweet spots. “D-Dabi..” “Yes, my goddess?” He kissed a trail down your stomach. “I love you..” You smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I know,” He leaned up to capture your lips, “I’m going to make sure you never doubt my committment to you ever again, my dear.. goddess.” Taglist: @some-kindofgnome @humanitiesstrongestchicken @hecatve @axerrri

#Lighting the Bonfire #Dabi #Dabi bnha #Dabi x Y/N #Dabi x Reader #Dabi fanfic #soft Dabi

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unsaidholland · 4 years ago

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roll with the feeling | h. holland

hey besties! this blurb was lowkey inspired by iii. telegraph ave. by childish gambino :) this has been in the works for a few months now but i hope you like it!

warnings: none? reader is a bit of a bitch but it’s fine ig, rich kid!harry x reader au lolsies

“come over,” you said on the phone, and harry was instantly in the car and on his way. he was making dinner, but spending time with you was better than any dinner he could’ve made for himself, mainly because he was a shit cook.

harry found himself speeding and almost running red lights just trying to get to you, but he still didn’t understand the hold you had on him. it was clear that there were feelings involved, but he wasn’t ready to settle down. that being said, he would do anything for you. whenever he’s at his house and he’s feeling lonely, he thinks about you. you were all that he wanted, but why wasn’t he ready to slow down?

with his hands at two and ten and his foot on the gas, harry found himself wishing away everything that was slowing his drive down. he never really minded the drive, but the more he thought about you, he wondered how bad settling down would be. maybe he wanted to die there with you - didn’t matter if it was of old age or being murdered in cold blood - but he realized if you were beside him everything would be okay.

it was an odd type of love that he felt. harry couldn’t really describe it, but on the drive over to your place, he thought of things he never thought of before. harry never imagined growing old with you where you lived. you were only a town over, only thirty minutes away, but it never felt right. he was nervous knowing that if you asked him to stay with you forever in that tiny godforsaken town, harry would stay, because he’d do anything for you if you asked.

the sound of the bell ringing at the train crossing suddenly made the ginger think about if the two of you got married. you both were still so young, he was sure it would’ve started something. he just couldn’t help but picture you in the white wedding dress, looking more like an angel than ever. he could see it all. the reception, the outfits, the first dance, everything. harry could picture you walking down the aisle, the biggest smile on both of your faces. maybe one day he would ask you to marry him, but he was sure that it wouldn’t be any time soon. he pushed the thought away as the rail lifted and he was able to drive through.

headlights from the other cars passing shone in his eyes as they passed harry on the roads. though it was late on a weekday, the town was alive and bustling with people going into restaurants or coming out of shops. maybe the town wasn’t that bad, but it wasn’t where harry wanted to die.

you were ready to settle down. you and harry had completely different visions for the next five or so years of your life, and he knew that, but that still wasn’t enough to stop him from coming over. you had completely different lifestyles, and he knew that too. he grew up with an absurd amount of money, he was lucky in that sense, but what really was luck? was harry actually lucky for being rich and having a vacation house somewhere on a beach? or was he lucky that his parents were always going on business trips, leaving him with his brothers and their nanny?

you were well off, sure, but nowhere near how well off harry was. your parents weren’t struggling to make ends meet, but as you went into uni there was a little bit of fear surrounding that, your parents just never showed it.

the radio was playing some old bruno mars song that worked to fill the silence of the car. his phone went off, and as he glanced at it he saw that you had tweeted.

10 likes and i’ll drop everything and move away

you always did this, tweeted your feelings. why couldn’t you just say what you felt? why did harry have to always find out on social media? he thought that he felt the l-word towards you, but this always made him second guess if he wanted to stay involved with you.

the phone went off again.

imagine always coming over but not moving in w your gf despite all her hints, could not be me

you always did this. you always tweeted everything you for whatever reason couldn’t say to him, and he hated it. but he loved you.

he shook his head at the tweets before turning down another street. for whatever reason, he hated your stupid town. he hated the stupid people in your stupid town, and he hated how far you were from him, but he wouldn’t change anything. the drive wasn’t bad, but he loved you and that seemed to make up for everything.

harry loved you and you loved him, but somehow that wasn’t enough. one day it would be, and harry was determined to show you that.

•••

the two of you laid in bed. you were wearing his shirt, and he was shirtless. sporting nothing but his grey sweatpants, you laid on harry’s bare chest just listening to his heartbeat.

thump thump, thump thump, thump thump

your mind drifted off to the relationship. you always did this. for one reason or another, you seemed to always analyze every little piece of it. out of habit, you looked at everything on the internet - what they were saying about you, about harry - which made your analyzing worse. you couldn’t bear to just believe that he was putting this much effort, but maybe the internet skewed you vision of a relationship. maybe the internet skewed your vision of harry.

he was rich, you knew that. he still had a regular nine-to-five job, you knew that. but he had a huge house all to himself and a trust fund. he had an expensive audi that he drove around, and he had staff to take care of the house. how could you ever compete with anyone who ever had him? maybe you closed yourself off from him emotionally because of that. maybe all your insecurities - which caused all the fights and arguments - were because you were so sure that he deserved better. at the same time though, all you wanted was him and you knew that all he wanted was you.

your mind drifted off from analyzing and onto planning. the future seemed so uncertain, but you wanted harry there. you wanted harry with you when you bought a house together. you wanted to have kids with him, you wanted everything. you needed everything.

“do you think we’ll ever have kids together?” you blurted out. you wanted him to say yes so badly. you wanted him to tell you that he’s thought about the future with you, but a part of you wanted him to say no and you weren’t sure why.

“darling, i’ll marry you if that’s what you want. i’d do anything for you and with you.”

you looked up at him and he showed no signs of telling a fib. you knew he wasn’t ready to settle down, and you knew that he hated your town, but it was clear he loved you more than that.

“really?”

“yeah, of course.”

the moonlight shone in through the windows, barely lighting up the room. his arm around you pulled you in closer as his thumb began to rub circles into your hips. you shifted so you could leave a kiss on his cheek, the small intimate act showing more of your emotions than your words ever could. you felt safe with him, you felt at home.

“we’re turning thirty soon,” harry pointed out.

“hmm?”

he shifted so he was on his side and facing you. as he was figuring out what to say, you studied his face. you looked at the faint freckles on his cheeks, the birthmark by his mouth, the fluttering of his eyelashes as he blinked. without even realizing it, your hand moved to cup his face as if it wanted to make sure he was real and that he was there.

“don’t you think we should settle down? get a house together? maybe you could move in or something, but i think it’s time baby, i really do.”

a sharp inhale. a deep exhale. repeat.

were you ready for that? were you ready to start the rest of your life with him?

“you don’t even have to move in with me, we can find a place here or something,” harry nervously rambled. your eyebrows furrowed as you thought about it more. were you ready?

you could feel harry studying your expression. you could feel his eyes trace every line in your face, the way your eyes couldn’t meet his and stayed on his shoulder. he studied the way you started biting the inside of your cheek, and quickly cupped your face in his hand.

“i love you, and whatever you decide i’ll be there.” his thumb caressed your cheek and you immediately melted under his touch.

you weren’t ready, but you would roll with it anyways.

“let’s be roomies holland.”

harry holland taglist: @euphorichxlland

anything and everything taglist: @hollanderfangirl @hxrryhxlland @ohmy-moonlightx @hollandscherie @notsosmexy @writertoo18 @icyhollands @petersasteria @lehmehgeh @call-me-baby-gir1 @cosmiccaptian

#harry holland #harry holland blurb #harry holland imagine #harry holland fluff #harry holland x reader #harry holland x you #harry holland x y/n #harry holland imagines

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salcreus · 3 years ago

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So I'm no writer. I don't mean this in a bad way, I just can't write long texts or keep my attention on the plot that I'm writing.

Having said that, however, I've been thinking a lot about an AU where Impulse and Etho end up teaming up, and things don't seem to work as they should on the 3rd life server.... [AO3 LINK]

Pop. Crack. The taste of muddy, bitter water in your tongue. You’d figure that if you tried hard enough, you could even notice the hints of salt scattered throughout. But focusing on the little details in life are for people that have the time to do so- And you, Impulse, are

“-an absolute idiot.” “Whoah there buddy, all I did was help some people out on their business. Don’tcha think that having more cards at play is gonna help us out in the end?” The redstoner says in such a tone that almost feels acrid in the way that fruits rot, if left forgotten, yet poor phrasings and curses aside, they truly were words of a man that means no malice- a curse of playing so many sides, he’d assume, if he were in another time. What he gets in response is but a boneless sigh, one that is tired of the shapes and turns of life and death, the game that they always play but never win. - “Impulse, you know that I love having you around- I’ll go so far as to say that you are the only one I can truly trust around here. But you are making me have some second thoughts about that.” “About my loyalty? Oh come on, you know that you are my pal til the end of times!” “Do I?” Etho has a way with words, it seems. He doesn’t use expensive expressions, the ones that are far too costly for your own soul or mind- Nor does he try to seem something that he isn’t, that’d be too unnatural, even for someone of his stature. But something in his tone moves rocks and mountains if the man so desires, and oh boy does he desire that a lot. You could say that It’s the type of tone that tugs you relentlessly, even if your conscience is clear- it’s never enough to hurt, of course, Canadian costumes or something of sorts, but it’s enough to make you doubt your own self down to the last cell in your body. And that; is far worse than any heartbreak or ill mouthing. Impulse staggers a bit away from his machinery- a simple system that would cast a rain of arrows down to any intruders from the sidelines - and contemplates the question that had been dropped in the air. Does he? Etho wouldn’t doubt him so much if he did, that’s the logical conclusion to that pinpoint. Now onto figuring out why the sudden suspicion. “You do know that I’ve sworn allegiance to you, right? I’m not saying this to be nice, or to play the part, this is not a master plan to trick you and stab you from the back- Heck, I wouldn’t be fortifying your fancy castle if that were the case! Though I doubt that you’d need my help with the redstone side of things-” A slight frown waves upon the man’s face for a split second, and Etho would have probably told you he hadn’t seen a thing if someone were to ask, for sight can be deceiving, and so can the light, and the mind, and your thoughts. “Agh, just please know that I’m doing my darn best to make sure that we can be the winners! That’s the whole goal of me being buddy-buddy with the other teams, right? So that we can gather intel and be 5 steps ahead of them.” And he meant that so truthfully, so genuine and pure, for someone that was doing so much wrong. There was a moment of silence. Well, not true silence- The sloshing of water against hard wool, the wind kissing the crops good morning, the distant chattering of the sheep, it all played a song to fill the current void in this conversation, which was not halted by the need to come up with something more to speak, or the lack of subject, but yes by the need to figure out if both of them believed in this story. “Why are we doing this?” Impulse is taken aback by the shift in conversation- Etho is no person to bring doubt into the table like that, after all. To question others? That’s a fair game, albeit a bit torturous at worst- But to question his own purpose, just like that, out of the blue? Now that was a heavy rock thrown to the face. Thankfully not in a literal sense, though. “...What do you mean by that?” Is what he managed to blurt out in response. “The betraying, the killing, the alliances- all of that. I mean, fundamentally, we do know that we are doing this for ‘fun’ and to ‘wind-out’ ” - The white-haired figure makes sure to over exaggerate the quotation marks of his sentence, giving it such a grand gesture that it almost breaks the somewhat tense presence filling the air. It was nice to take a step back and to remember that, at the end of the day, Etho is

still just Etho, silly and well-meaning. - “We know it because it’s what Grian told us it is.” “So you’re implying that there’s something more to it..?” “I’m not sure yet. You can just call it a hunch, really. But maybe Hermitcraft just... Wasn’t enough for him.”

Silence lingers for a few moments longer, a bit too thick to be swallowed easily, but accusations like these just weren’t possible to digest with a light heart. Impulse, almost inspired by a feeling very fitting to his name, took a few steps forwards, taking in the comforting feeling that the floor of their castle provided, soon sparing a glance at the lava fortifications surrounding them. If he really tried, he could spot Tango’s killing game by one of the exposed gaps, which earned a small chuckle in response. If it was loving, or nervous, he would decide later. “So” - The (yellow themed) redstoner finally spat out - “Going off your logic there… We’re friends with a guy that runs off bloodshed and sadistic tendencies, a guy who has created, even fought, so many battles on the other server, yet felt the need to kick the violence up a notch- For… entertainment?”

In response, the other (more so blue themed, but does Etho really have a colour of his own?) redstoner walked closer towards the other man, each step carrying a moment of reflection. “Ehm- Maybe? I mean we always knew that’s the main point of what we are doing, I’m more so implying-” “Implying that his goals are beyond a couple of laughs and water guns between friends.” “Mhm.” “We don’t usually take such a long break from Hermitcraft, which might have been why he felt the need to create this game.” “Or maybe he was just tired of the pawns, so he traded them for new pieces…” Impulse coughs out another chuckle, but this time anyone that paid some mind to the man could tell the pain that it was carrying- It was almost a brand image at this point, a coping mechanism he had earned over the years. He would go as far as feeling a certain shame about it, at least in his darker hours- it’s hard to play the part if your true colours can pop out at any moment, after all. At that moment, he had come to the realization that he would be awful at poker. “...Either way, I do think that Grian is taking this too far. I don’t know about you, but I would rather not have to betray and kill my friends like this. In a lighthearted competition? Sure. But this is turning people into monsters, Impulse. It’s turning us into monsters, in fact.” He spares another sigh, his face twisting into a more pained expression - contrasting the usual cool facade that he kept around the server - , taking the chance to keep his words down to a mere whisper, almost as if to share the secrets of the world with Impulse, spells and curses for his ears only. It almost felt a bit special, in a way. “It’s not like I enjoy the idea of our friend being some sort of sadistic megalomaniac- And I promise you that I’ll eat my own words one by one if I’m wrong, cross my heart, hope to die-” - Worth to note that both of them shared their just as secret reactions to the phrasing used by Etho- The man of the minute with a scrunch of his nose, and the person looking at him with an accidental eyebrow twitch. - “...But I really need you to trust me on this one, Impulse. You know that I wouldn’t bring such accusations without a reason.” Pop. Crack. The taste of muddy, bitter water in your tongue. You wished that if you tried hard enough, you could preoccupate yourself with the bits of salt scattered throughout. Moments of self reflection and torturous analysis, little glances, short breaths, holding your head, holding your mind, holding your heart- Correction, your hearts. Holding simultaneously nothing and the idea of Nothing at the exact same time. You stare at Etho. He stares at you back. But, in the end, focusing on the little details in life are for people that can afford to do so. And you, Impulse, are- “-running out of time! So I guess we are going to call it a day here, folks! Please log out of the world as soon as possible.” The communicators scream, rudely buzzing out to all of the members present in the server.

#woop #impulsesv #ethoslab #impulse #3lsmp #3rd life smp #third life #third life smp #i have no idea what im doing :) <3 #i just #t #i jus dont write like this idk img jfdnfdggjfng pee pee poo #mcyt #oh yeah ah is this salty art #sure we can gonwith that #salty art #edit: added tags #salty writing

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arvandus · 4 years ago

Text

New Beginnings - Toshinori x GN!Reader

So, this is my contribution to the BNHA Harem server collab for New Year’s Eve. It was supposed to be a drabble. It is not. It has turned into a short oneshot. I regret nothing.

Warnings: Angst, fluff... my usual MO. That’s about it.

Word Count: 2655

Recommended Song: Can’t Help Falling In Love - LIGHT by Tommee Proffitt, ft. Brooke

Art done by me

The ballroom was loud. Too loud, filled with the raucous laughter and chattering of drunken adults finally letting loose after a particularly difficult year. Between the multiple villain attacks, kidnapping, All Might losing his powers… A night filled with celebration was desperately needed to say farewell to the painful past and look optimistically toward the future. Glittery decorations adorned the tables, the walls, the banisters. Nearly every staff member was present, no one willing to miss out on a chance to unwind with friends at the employer’s expense. It was a formal affair, with teachers hanging up their hero uniforms in favor of suits and ties, dresses and heels.

And of course, among the throngs of people, Toshinori was there, his blonde, wild hair sticking out like a sore thumb. He was handsome tonight, donning a navy blue suit that was specially tailored for him, accentuating his leanness from the shape of his shoulders to the small of his waist. A white dress shirt with a black tie was paired with it, finished with shining black leather shoes. You were grateful he opted for a sleeker look instead of his yellow pinstripe suit; no doubt Midnight might have had a say in his wardrobe choices for this evening. Overall, he cleaned up impressively well compared to his usual baggy attire, despite the ever-present slouch in his posture. You tried not to stare at him, but it was impossible.

He had caught you staring, of course, hesitating for a moment before flashing you a smile and a wave. You offered an awkward wave of your own, your smile barely reaching your eyes before you turned away from him, your heart pounding painfully. The smile he’d given you was friendly, genuine… but it cloaked more complex feelings beneath it, feelings you didn’t want to decipher after your last conversation with him. A part of you didn’t want his kindness, not after his rejection. If anything, you wished he’d ignore you, pretend you didn’t exist. It would make the letting go easier, give the pain some place to go so you didn’t feel like you were drowning. After all, it was his kindness and his smiles, the private conversations, the lunch dates… all those little things that had you thinking that there was something there, a foundation to build upon.

How wrong you were.

Now, all of his smiles and kind words only made the ache worse, filling your heart up with confusion and making it heavy in a way that weighed on your spirit. You were tired. Tired of carrying that weight around. Tired of replaying the conversation over and over in your head, in a vain attempt at figuring out how you could have been so incredibly mistaken.

As the night wore on, you tried to ignore him, to enjoy the evening and not let your heartache get the better of you. You had told yourself that you would come, that you would set aside your feelings and celebrate with those who felt like family, instead of wallowing alone at home by yourself.

It was impossible. No matter how hard you tried, your eyes kept searching for him, kept finding his messy mop of blonde hair poking out in the crowd, kept hearing his deep voice resonating throughout the room as he laughed. You could feel your emotions roiling like a geyser behind your lips, and you were afraid that it’d explode, words falling out of your mouth to land at his feet where everyone could see. Even worse, it was New Year’s Eve. You knew that once the countdown hit zero, kisses would be shared and none of them would be for you. And if for some reason Toshinori had affections for a different teacher, you certainly didn’t want to be there to see it.

It wasn’t long before you were sneaking up the stairs, following the stairwell up to the rooftop in an attempt to escape the sight of him, hoping the distance would quell your fractured heart. What were you thinking? Why did you even bother to come?

Cold winter air met you as you opened the door to the roof. Stars twinkled through the light pollution in the absence of winter clouds as the crosshatched glimmer of the city could be seen below. Thankfully, the roof wasn’t covered in snow, the weather unusually forgiving this year. You sat down on the rooftop with your knees drawn up to you as an icy breeze washed over you. It stung your eyes, tickled your nose, wicking the moisture from your lips. But it was nice. You inhaled the cold air deep into your lungs, letting it numb you. You needed this, to feel the outside world around you and let the cold snap you out of your mind a little bit.

You weren’t sure how long you sat out there… perhaps minutes, or maybe an hour. Time seemed to lose its meaning while the sound of merriment could be heard from below, drifting up from the windows. You knew you should head back down at some point… you had friends that would be looking for you the closer it got to midnight. But each time you began to will yourself to stand up, your body refused, stubbornly rooting you to your spot. Your fingers, nose, and ears began to feel numb, your body beginning to shiver… but still you sat, staring out at the city lights.

You really didn’t want to face him again. God, you were such a coward. You frowned as you wrapped your arms around yourself, the action just as much for comfort as it was for warmth.

“So, this is where you’re hiding…”

You jumped at the intrusion, your heart pounding in your chest as you twisted around to see Toshinori approaching you, his hands in the pockets of his slacks. A gust of wind whirled the jacket of his suit around, making the fabric pull against him as if it were trying to make its escape. It only accentuated his leanness, and you felt your heart constrict painfully. You looked away, your eyes once again staring out at the city lights below. A second gust whipped through and you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself as goosebumps covered your skin. You clenched your jaw to try to keep your teeth from chattering.

“I’m not hiding.” You replied. “I just needed a break, that’s all.”

You could hear his footsteps approach you, and your mind screamed no even as your heart pounded in excitement. A moment later, the soft, silky interior of a blazer fell over your shoulders. The warmth of it soaked into you instantly, and the clean smell of Toshinori’s cologne kissed your nose.

“You didn’t have to do that…” you said quietly, even as your hands clasped at it, pulling it against you.

“I wanted to.” He replied.

You could see him sit down next to you out of the corner of your eye. His proximity was close enough to make your heart race, but far away enough to feel the emptiness between you two. Another winter gust pushed his hair back and whirled his black tie around him.

“What about you? Won’t you be cold?” you asked.

He gave a soft smile as he stared out at the city. “I’ll be fine. I’m not as fragile as I look, you know…”

Your eyes took in his profile. The sunken cheeks, the hollowed eyes framed in dark circles… he looked perpetually exhausted. And yet, everything about his was so familiar, so… comfortable. The shape of his mouth and the way it curved when he smiled, the cut of his sharp jaw, the blue of his eyes, still young in spirit yet framed in years of experience. You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, to put your head on his shoulder and interlock your fingers with his.

Instead, you pulled his coat tighter around yourself, wishing it were his arms instead. This was torture. It was everything you wanted to avoid and then some. The geyser you’d managed to quell earlier bubbled again, angry and hot. You stared back out at the city in an attempt to cool it.

“Why are you here?” you asked.

“I… feel like we should talk.” He replied, his arms propped up on his knees.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I told you how I felt and you turned me down. Seems pretty cut and dry to me.” You commented.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

His words stung you, driving the nail deeper into the coffin. You could feel the lump forming in your throat and you swallowed against it. You didn’t want to be here, to hear his apologies, to see the guilt in his eyes as he tried to explain why. You didn’t want to know why. What mattered was that he didn’t want you. You stood up and began removing his jacket from your shoulders.

“It’s fine.” You replied, as you dropped the fabric into his lap. He stared up at you bewildered, but you refused to look at him. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to feel guilty. I just need some time is all.” You began to walk away from him.

The sound of a chorus of voices from below could be heard faintly, carried by the wind.

‘Ten! Nine! Eight!’

Did the time really pass that quickly? What a way to start the new year, you thought bitterly.

Toshinori was up in an instant, his coat falling to the ground. Long fingers wrapped around your wrist halting your escape, his grip surprisingly strong. “That’s not what I meant.” Toshinori countered.

‘Seven! Six! Five!’

“Then what do you mean?” you snapped finally, as you spun to face him. The hurt was written across your face now, the emotions no longer kept under lock and key as your eyes brimmed with tears.

His eyes stared back at you, pleading, begging you to stay, to listen. “I didn’t turn you down because I didn’t want you.”

‘Four! Three! Two!’

“W-what?”

‘One!’

A rumbling cheer erupted from down below as fireworks began to light up the night sky all across Musutafu. The flash of colors painted Toshinori’s lean face in blues and greens and reds. The occasional bright flash of white lit up his sunken eyes, and in those moments, you could see the emotions in them more clearly. Regret, longing… You stared at him, dumbfounded.

“What does that mean?” you asked.

He took a step toward you, the gap between you closing as your heart pounded in your chest. He still had your wrist in his hand, and the warmth of his touch sent electric shocks to your heart.

His eyes were downcast as his low voice washed over you. “When you told me how you felt about me, I didn’t know how to respond. I’d never expected…” he cleared his throat. “It took me by surprise.”

Your body felt hot with embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry…” you apologized.

“No! That’s not….” He sighed. “I’m terrible at this.”

You stared at him like a deer in headlights, waiting. He adjusted his hold on you until your hand was in his palm, and his thumb rubbed small circles over the back of your hand. You watched the action intently as fireworks continued to light up around you, your breath stuck in your throat.

This wasn’t happening…

He tried again. “I don’t want you to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He paused for a moment, taking a breath, then continued. “I… I’m not the man I used to be.”

You furrowed your brow at him. “Are you talking about your All Might form? Because I don’t care about that.”

Toshinori released your hand and shoved his own hands deep into his pockets. “Yes… and no. It’s more than that.” He paused again as he struggled to put his thoughts into words.

“I’m… weak now…” he explained. “My quirk is gone, my career is over. And to be honest, I don’t know how much time I have left. There’s nothing I can offer you.”

Your heart broke at his confession. “That’s not true.” You replied. “Just being around you makes me happy.”

“You don’t understand.” He frowned. You could tell by the tension in his arms that his fists were clenched in his pockets. “Just because I’m retired doesn’t mean I don’t still have enemies. Anyone who’s close to me will always be a target. I can’t even protect myself anymore, let alone those I care about… so how could I protect you? Why would I let you put yourself in danger for me? For someone who might not even be able to grow old with you? You deserve better than that.”

You stared wide-eyed and open mouthed as his words washed over you. Everything fell into place then. No wonder he had pushed you away. And all the kindness he had shown you before… all the closeness you had thought were signs of something more… they were real. The hurt was washed away with understanding, only to be replaced by a warmth that made you feel invincible to the cold night air.

He cared. Deeply.

Your free hand went up to cup his cheek, and his eyes finally looked up from the floor to stare at you. You smiled softly at him. “I don’t need protecting, Toshi. What I need is my friend. You think I don’t know that there’s risk? You think I don’t know that your days on this earth are numbered? All the more reason to take advantage of the time we’ve got.”

A moment of silence cloaked both of you as he stared at you. His cheeks flushed in the light of another white firework and he looked away, ashamed, as your hand fell from his face. He walked to the edge of the rooftop and sat down on it, his legs dangling over the side.

You sat next to him, your arms touching. “There’s more, isn’t there?” you asked. You placed a hand on his forearm. “Tell me.”

“You make it sound so easy...” He said, as he stared at his hands. “But I don’t know how.”

“You don’t know how to what?” You asked, confused.

Toshinori stared out across the city, a frown on his face. “I don’t know how to let it go. I was the Symbol of Peace for so long. It was where I got all of my strength, all of my confidence. Now I’m just… quirkless Toshinori Yagi. I feel like I don’t even know who I am.”

“You miss it, don’t you?” you asked.

The question was rhetorical of course, but Toshinori answered it anyway. “Every day.”

“You’ll always be All Might. That will always be a part of you.” You replied. “But maybe… maybe All Might had to ‘die’ so Toshinori could live. Think of it as a second chance at life. You get to figure out all over again what makes you happy.”

Toshinori’s arm went around your shoulder and you leaned into his warmth. “You make me happy.” He said.

You looked at him, your words escaping you as your heart flew away with your words, but it didn’t matter. Toshinori brushed his lips against yours in a soft kiss, and you leaned into it instinctually, drinking it in until it filled your belly with heat and your chest felt like it would burst.

It was over too soon; Toshi pulled away and smiled. “We should probably go back down there.”

Your hand went to cup his jaw before he could stand up. “Wait,” you said with a small grin. “One more. To new beginnings. It’s New Year’s, after all…”

He gave a laugh and kissed you again, this time his own hand caressing your jaw. “To new beginnings.”

…….

“I still have to train that kid, though…”

“Yeah, good luck with that…”

#toshinori #toshinori yagi #toshinori x reader #all might #skinny might #bnha #mha #bnha harem collab

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

Text

The Bones (Reid Series) Part 2

Summary: After doing an even deeper dive on Valerie’s past, Spencer finally meets her, but his invasiveness isn’t the worst part ... the worst part is he might actually like her.

Playlist: “The Bones” by Maren Morris & Hozier (BONUS: song includes major foreshadowing) Category: Series, Fluff, Soft Angst, Eventual smut and *NSFW content Pairing: Spencer Reid POV x Fem!OC - Valerie Content Warning: invasion of privacy, allusions to Maeve’s death, arrhythmia Word Count: 3.4k

Part 1 |

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

After firmly deciding not to weave Penelope into my tangled web, I was met with the arduous burden of conducting my own research.

Firstly, I would need a computer - yeah ... a computer. That’s how far I was willing to go for this pursuit. I once vowed never to fall victim to modern technology’s clutches, and yet here I was, doing my research on a public library’s computer. To my credit, I hadn’t gone out and bought one, I was merely using my resources.

With the need for a device out of the way, all that was left was the knowledge of what to look for. But that didn’t pose a problem either.

Funny enough, with as many rules and restrictions as there are regarding patient privacy and confidentiality, all it took was matching dates of news stories with hospital records to complete my research. I was fairly certain I was only scratching the surface of information about Valerie as opposed to the sea of things I could’ve uncovered if I asked for Garcia’s help, but there are only so many lines a person can cross in one week.

This was my limit.

Call me naive, but I was actually quite surprised with just how expansive the internet is. To an almost relentless degree, I would open an article and it would lead me to ten more about the same topic. It was this never ending rabbit hole that seemed to spiral on forever. I kept digging deeper and deeper until I could no longer dig.

I’d officially hit rock bottom.

It took me a grand total of just two hours to unearth all the ‘dirt’ I could on a young Valerie Bishop.

Local 16-year-old Wins Nevada’s Statewide Art Contest! Published by Henderson Press.

Valerie, just a sophomore in high school at the time, was donning what any experimental teen girl would’ve worn in the early 2000s - bootcut jeans and a sequin blouse over top of a plain camisole. And if I zoomed in close enough, I could spot the evidence of a sparkly blue shadow coating her eyelids. Surprisingly, though, that wasn’t the first thing I noticed.

It was that smile. That tooth-achingly sweet smile.

Though I never got the chance to see Maeve truly smile, that’s what I imagined it would look like.

The photographer must’ve caught her midway through a laugh, at least that’s what the image of her slightly open-mouthed grin told me. Meanwhile, her two tiny hands were clenching her overbearingly large trophy while her artwork stood behind her as the background.

It didn’t take me long to figure out why her painting won. Simply put, there was no need to see anyone else’s art to know that they couldn’t possibly compete with hers.

Hers was an abstract rendition of what I believe to be a forest of some sort. The detail is what I was most drawn to. It would’ve been unbelievable on its own but the fact that she was 16 when she painted it? That’s what was unbelievable to me.

If that’s how talented she was at that age, I could only imagine how much more talented she became with time. However, I lost the chance to investigate the current state of her skill before a related article from The Cleveland Gazette about Valerie succeeded this one.

From Award-Winning Artist to Henderson’s Hero

Read my interview with 17-year-old Valerie Bishop to find out more about her struggle with arrhythmia and how she turned her pain into a project!

By Kelli Gallagher from the Cleveland Gazette.

Gallagher: Thank you so much for letting me interview you, Valerie.

Bishop: Of course! I’m happy to.

Gallagher: You’ve become somewhat of a hero in Henderson, Nevada, haven’t you?

Bishop: I wouldn’t call myself a hero ... but if everyone else wants to - I’m fine with that. (laughs)

Gallagher: Don’t be so modest! I mean, what you’ve done is so incredible, and you’re only what? Seventeen?

Bishop: Yes, ma’am. I just turned seventeen this past August.

Gallagher: Wow, I can’t believe how young you are and yet you’ve already accomplished so much. I saw that you won a statewide art contest last year. Tell me more about that.

Bishop: That’s a funny story actually. My Grandma Sheila was the one who entered me in that contest. I didn’t even know about it until I won it. She’s always surprising me, though. In fact, she’s the one that surprised me with my first ever art supplies, when I was about eight or so. They were these super expensive oil paints, and I knew she couldn’t afford them, so I told her we should return them and get something cheaper, but she said, “Nonsense. When the bones are good the rest don’t matter. A house don’t fall when the bones are good.” That was kind of her saying.

A house don’t fall when the bones are good.

The bones.

Gallagher: I’m interested to know more about your relationship with your grandma. If I’m remembering correctly, she was also diagnosed with arrhythmia a while back too, right?

Bishop: Yes, she was, but that’s never slowed her down. And as for our relationship, my grandma and I have always been close, but arrhythmia, in a weird way, has brought us even closer. She has always been my biggest supporter and the fact that we’re both on this journey together makes her my biggest supporter even more so.

Gallagher: Absolutely. Now, I also heard that you’ve started a fundraising program to possibly start a gallery and studio in Virginia Beach. If you don’t mind me asking, why Virginia Beach? Is there any special significance?

Bishop: Actually, that’s where my grandma met my grandpa, and they got married and started a family there, too. So if Grandma Sheila hadn’t been there to meet him, she wouldn’t have had my mom, and that would mean I wouldn’t have been here either. I like to think Virginia Beach is where it all started. In a way, it’s where my bones are. That solid foundation in Virginia gave me everything I have today.

Gallagher: That is just incredible. I’m so glad to see your fundraising project is thriving, but I can’t imagine any of this has been particularly easy for you. You were diagnosed right around the time your senior year was starting right?

Bishop: Yes ma’am.

Gallagher: So what brought you from Henderson to Cleveland?

Bishop: Well, actually, I didn’t want to move, especially not before I graduated, but Cleveland has the best cardiovascular hospital in the country and my health is far more important than graduating in the same state I grew up in. So when my parents were willing to move me and my sister out here, I saw it as a privilege rather than something to be sad about.

Gallagher: I am so inspired by you, Valerie.

Bishop: (laughs) Really, why?

Gallagher: Despite everything that’d been thrown at you, you are still so grateful. I hope you never lose that.

Bishop: I promise you I won’t.

Gallagher: So one last thing before I go, what is one hope you have for your future self?

Bishop: I hope, future self, that your ‘bones’ are still strong.

Gallagher: Beautiful. Thank you so much again for doing this, Valerie. I sincerely hope you reach your goal and you get to open up that gallery and studio in Virginia Beach.

At the bottom of the article, there was a footnote from Kelli Gallagher.

Exactly 10 years later, Bishop was able to move to Virginia Beach and open up her gallery and studio.

By the end of the article, I felt a genuine sense of pride for Valerie, and I know I had virtually no right to know these things about her, but I could still be proud of her for them right?

I would never fully get my answer to this question before I crossed the final boundary.

After exhausting all that I could gather from the internet without Penelope’s assistance, the only thing left for me to do was actually meet her in person. However, this would prove to be a bigger obstacle that it seemed. I decided to delay the daunting task until the next day. A decision partially influenced by the phrase, ‘sleep on it.’ I prayed I’d gain clarity on what to do when I woke up the next morning, but even with a night’s rest, I was still undecided as I drove to Virginia Beach once more.

To sit in my car that was conveniently parked right in front of the gallery was a poor choice. Because with every passing second, the temptation to walk in grew, but the fear of regret dampened those impulses. The more I thought about it, the more I psyched myself out. Between my two choices, to freeze or to fight, I should’ve taken the third - to flee. But I was here now and I couldn’t leave empty-handed for a second time.

After a moment’s indecision, adrenaline coursed through my veins to give me the courage to get out of my car. When I felt an outdoor breeze blow over me, I knew there was no going back now. Right when I walked in, the little bell above the door rang, solidifying that I was officially crossing the threshold, and whether I liked it or not, she was going to see me after hearing me walk in.

“I’ll be right with you!” A small voice called out from somewhere in the back. She was hidden from my immediate sight, and somehow that made it so much worse. It was now I that was waiting for her, instead of her unknowingly waiting for me.

As though I were prey getting ready to escape a predator, I stayed put by the door. It gave me a full view of the entire place anyway.

Scoping out my surroundings, I spotted the paintings that were carefully measured and placed on the walls, almost to perfection. I had no time to notice anything more before the person in the back walked out.

Immediately when I saw her, I knew.

“You’re … not Valerie.” I couldn’t help sounding so disappointed but luckily, the woman that came out took no offense to my observation.

“No, I’m not,” She laughed. “But I can get her for you-”

“No wait!” I uselessly leapt forward to stop her from saying, “Vee! There’s someone out here to see you!” But that’s precisely what she did anyway. Evidently oblivious of my previous protests, she politely smiled back at me. “She’ll be right out.”

For the second time that day, I waited with bated breath, anxiously anticipating the arrival of Valerie. And I was almost too focused on subduing the pounding of my heart to realize that she was actually walking out of the back right now.

“Hi, sorry about that!” A new voice chirped.

Valerie.

The moment I laid eyes on her, it became clear to me that the pictures in her files hardly did her justice. Nothing could compare to the real sight of her. I was only able to catch the profile of her face when I saw her in the cafe, but in her entirety, I began to wax nostalgic. Though her face and hair and body had transformed into that of a grown woman’s features, I could still identify the same tooth-achingly sweet smile that a younger Valerie once wore on the front page of the Henderson Press. She was no beast to conquer, she was just a girl, smiling at me in that same gentle way.

Her expression just as well showed no indication of recognition, not that she would recognize me, considering my letter was anonymous and unless she pulled the same stunt I did, she wouldn’t ever recognize who I was.

“I’m Val,” She made her greeting to me while untying her dirtied waist apron, and it was merely the action that caused my gaze to fall to her hips, but when she shed the apron, I was still staring. There was something sort of mesmerizing about the way they swayed as she approached. It wasn’t until they stopped swaying completely that I realized they did so because there was no more distance to advance - she was already right there in front of me, patiently watching me stare.

“Val?” I blinked hard to revert my gaze while also playing into the part that I had no idea who she was.

“Mhm. Short for Valerie,” She confirmed happily. “Like the Amy Winehouse song.”

This time, I genuinely didn’t know what she was referring to, and my confused countenance prompted her to clarify, “You don’t know that song?”

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she began to playfully sing, “Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water ...”

While she watched my face and waited for the recitation of the song to jog my memory, I was just as much studying her face. I could tell she was only kidding when she sang, evidenced by the laugh that followed her rendition, but it sounded so unironically good that I had to question what other talents she possessed.

“Um, I was actually thinking more like Valerie, the martyred medieval saint, whose name stood for strength and health.” No sooner than the words spilled from my mouth did I recognize the freudian slip - the simultaneous coincidence and confession. The coincidence was that, now, with Maeve’s heart beating in her chest, she lived up to her name - she was newly strong and healthy. But I worried, she would see the correlation I drew between her name and her successful transplant and would realize that I knew more about her than I let on. Did I just give away too much?

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier. What was it?” Her casual dismissiveness of my previous statement did nothing to ease my worries. Was she beginning to piece everything together?

“Oh, right!” I said dumbly. “S-Spencer. I’m Spencer.” I was such a blubbering bundle of nerves that I actually reached out to shake her hand - a stranger’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Spencer,” She softly laughed, which was hopefully not out of the enjoyment of seeing me squirm. “What can I do for you?”

A loaded question, don’t you think? What can you do for me, Valerie? Well, for one thing, you could’ve answered my letter, but to say something as bold as that would require me to admit the real reason I was here, and how could I do that without mentioning how I found you in the first place?

“Um ...” Whose birthday is the soonest? “My friend Emily’s birthday is coming up and I was wondering if I could possibly buy a painting from you as a birthday present.”

There was the faintest perceptible skepticism in her expression, but that could’ve just been my paranoia talking because in the next breath, she didn’t suggest a proclivity to my deceit. “Yeah, of course! Do you know what her favorite medium is? Or her favorite artist? Or her favorite style of art?”

For every addition to the question, I wordlessly shook my head no. Was my lie already unraveling? Could she see right through me?

“No worries. If you want, you can walk around the gallery and tell me if you see anything you think she’d like.” She made her offer to me sweetly, then disappeared into the back room again. I tried to follow her with my eyes for as long as I could, but from where I was standing, I couldn’t see very far into it. I wandered a little further into the center of the gallery to possibly catch a glimpse of what was occupying her time back there, but when I heard the chattering of two voices, Valerie and the other woman, coming from the same general direction, I realized I was completely alone in this part of the studio.

With no one around to bear witness but these portraits, I could’ve easily slipped out and made my escape, and I might’ve even done it had it not been for the unmistakable gravitational pull forcing me to stay here and walk about the room.

Making my way throughout the gallery, I would pause every now and then when a painting would stand out to me, which was often, considering each picture was impressive.

But there was one painting in particular that piqued my interest. It made me feel something I’d never felt before.

It wasn’t special by any means. By rights, I shouldn’t have even noticed it, for it wasn’t the largest painting, nor the smallest one - it wasn’t even the most average painting. But it felt exceptionally ... Valerie. I had no doubt in my mind that she painted this one - in fact, I had a good bet that she painted most of these portraits, if not all of them - but this one. There was just something about it that I couldn’t put my finger on.

“So,” A draft was created from where Valerie swiftly and unexpectedly joined me at my side. “What do you think?”

“Um, there’s definitely something,” I struggled to find the word. “appealing about this one.” Almost as soon as the word came out of my mouth, I knew it was only a matter of time before she called out the inadequacy of my answer.

“Appealing?” She repeated in mockery. “That’s the best you got? Come on, you’ve been standing here for like ten minutes. There must be something about it you like.”

“I’m not sure.” I honestly admitted with a shrug.

“There’s no wrong answer.” She assured me, but I found that hard to believe.

“So if I said I see a grizzly bear attacking a UFO, that wouldn’t be wrong?”

“Nope,” She popped the p. “If that’s how you interpret it then that’s how you interpret it. Just because someone else sees it differently, doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” It would’ve sounded like complete bullshit or nauseatingly cheesy coming out of someone else’s mouth, but her delivery felt so genuine. It actually moved me.

As she said this, she turned her head in my direction to look up at me, causing her shoulder to brush my upper arm, sending a wave of goosebumps all over my body.

She was so close.

But I was so unbothered by her proximity that I didn’t even notice exactly how close she really was. If someone else had invaded my personal space like that, I would’ve moved in the opposite direction just on instinct, but I didn’t even think to do that with Valerie. I was so comfortable with her being there.

But was that just because a part of her was once Maeve’s? Was the entire foundation of my likening to Valerie built upon that single attribute?

Was that my bones?

“Um,” I began fidgeting with my hands to self-soothe. “I like it. I don’t know why. But I like it. How’s that for an answer?”

There was a pause before her response that compelled me to look at her, but when I did so, she was already looking at me. “I’ll take it,” She nodded. “It’s the biggest compliment to me if my art can make you feel something.”

Was it the art that made me feel something ... or you?

“I’ll tell you what,” She walked over to grab something from the front desk. She came back with a small piece of cardstock. “I’m going to an art exhibition next weekend. Why don’t you come with me and see if you can’t find something for Emily there?”

She handed me the paper, which was actually her business card. “You don’t have to have an answer for me today, but call me when you do.” She seemed to think that was the end of the conversation, but I still had more questions.

“You’re inviting me?” was the first question that came to mind, albeit the dumbest one.

“Yeah, you can be my plus one.”

I gulped to dislodge the lump in my throat. “Like-like your date?”

She furrowed her brows with mild confusion. “Um ... sure, if that’s what you wanna call it,” which was the last thing she said to me before vanishing within the back room again.

I peered back down at the card and tapped it gently on the palm on my hand as though to register its presence really being there.

For all intents and purposes, this card was meaningless. But to me, it was the formal consenting - nay, invitation - to reach out to her again. She was willingly extending this line of contact to me.

No more public library computers. No more files. No more ‘research.’ Just her number - a way to reach her without veering off my moral compass.

Despite this, I still had no clue whether or not I was going to accept her offer.

All that I did know was that I wanted to see her again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

PART 3 COMING SOON!

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