#Though I’m sad the name dip doesn’t roll off the tongue as well now it’s for the sake of easier recognizability anyway soooo

[gracebethartacc]

MLP RW GOD REFS YAYYYYYYYYYYYY plus some extra doodles i did in between

Teehees

[oops-aquarius]

tainted kisses

summary: steve needs some relaxation, which you provide to him

warnings: smut (!!!!), praise kink, slight degradation kink, a little bit of angst cuz a hoe is sad, oral fixation (duh), slight dom/sub dynamics (?), mentions of sadness/depression, tiny mommy kink (like barely there)

pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2.2k

note(s): not edited well at all, also i used a prompt generator to get the promt i used (which is below !!)

prompt: “baths or water (tubs or jacuzzis; hot springs; water houses or steam rooms; the ocean; swimming pools.”

kink: “Oral fixation or fetishization (lips, tongue, or whole mouth; french-kissing; licking; oral displays using food or beer bottles; smoking cigarettes, cigars, or pipes; biting or chewing one's lip(s))”

--

***this is post-endgame except nobody died, cause im a hoe for all of the avengers***

Steve never realized how much he liked things in his mouth. Not always in a sexual way, at least not until after fighting Thanos.

After fighting for so long, bottling up his emotions was not at all how Steve needed to cope. He tried the yoga and meditation route Wanda had so kindly suggested. Yeah, after one session of hot yoga, Steve decided that it wasn't going to happen. Tony, obviously, suggested sex. Said something about it being a “healing experience for the soul”. That’s bullshit were Steve’s first thoughts when that came out of his mouth. Bucky told him to get some goats and raved about how therapeutic it was to raise them. But Steve could barely take care of himself, how would he even take care of a goat? Steve felt a hot sense of hopelessness burn against the back of his eyes as he sat on the floor of his bedroom, back pressed against the adjoined bathroom door.

“Steve?” A soft knock came from the front door. He took his thumb away from his mouth, he had resorted to subconsciously nibbling on the tip of it. Pulling himself off the door and towards the voice, he rubbed his tear-stricken cheeks in attempts to clean himself up a bit before seeing you.

“One sec, Y/N/N.”

When he opened the door, your face softened a bit before the smile that Steve, secretly, loved so much dropped off your face completely. “Stevie, what happened?”

Stevie, a nickname he hated for his entire life. A name that reminded him of the days before the super solider serum where he was a little guy getting beaten up on the streets of Brooklyn. Stevie, a nickname he loved hearing from your caring voice. Nobody else’s. 

“Just tired, Y/N” he sighed, “so,so tired.”

“Stevie,” your voice caught at the back of your throat. Seeing him in so much pain made your life turn upside down. He doesn't deserve to be in pain. “ S’there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Just stay with me? Please?”

You took him back into his bed and sat with him, just talking about life until his breathing turned back to normal and he seemed partially-okay. 

“Do you want to take a bath?” you asked, still stroking the blonde strands of his hair.

“Are you saying I smell?” He took his face out of the crook of your shoulder, feigning a look of hurt.

“No, punk, I meant to relax. You seemed pretty shaken up and I just wanted to help. I mean, that’s what I do when I feel down, relax in a bat-”

He cuts you off, “I appreciate it. Really, Y/N, I don’t know many people that are as loving and caring as you, sweetheart.” The nickname made a pang in your heart. You had like the super solider since you had met him, but never felt like he reciprocated the feelings. Even though you both cuddled often, and had movie nights, and he always let you beat him while sparring, and that one time you came down with a stomach bug and he fed you soup and-holy shit. Did Steve like you? “Sweetheart?”

“Huh?”

“I said, ‘A bath does sound nice’. What’s got you so suddenly zoned out?” He says, donning a smirk.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get you into that bath, mister,” you had a faux grumpy look on your face as you got up and walked to the bathroom, starting to fill the white, ceramic bathtub with warm water. “Okay, big boy. You need help getting up or are you okay?”

Rolling his eyes at your inauthentic tone, Steve pushes his tensed frame off the body and managed to stumble into the bathroom, while you following him closely to make sure he doesn't fall over from exhaustion.

“I get it, I’m old, but damn Y/N. I can walk perfectly fine,” He chuckles as he pushes himself up to sit on the counter top.

You start to fill up the bathtub with warm water, adding bubbles and lighting a few scented candles. He looked so pretty, hair sticking out in every direction, lips pink and puffy from biting them, his ocean blue eyes still misty as he looks down at his cuticles, picking them slightly. 

“Okay, I’m gonna leave so you can take this bath,” you say, shutting off the faucet, “Got it?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Stevie.”

“Stay, please.” His eyes were watering more than earlier. He had those puppy dog eyes, lip quivering as his voice cracked and wavered even with just a few words. He looked so vulnerable, how could you say no to him?

“Of course, Steve. I mean, the bubbles with kind of cover everything. I’ll just sit next to the tub with you, alright?” You awkwardly giggled and scratched the back of your neck. He nodded, hopping off of the counter and starting to undress himself with a wobble. “Stevie, you’re shaking like a leaf, let me help you.”

His eyes never met yours as you helped him pull his t-shirt over his head and looped your delicate fingers through the waistband of his sweatpants, dragging them down his muscular thighs. “You’re not gonna finish your job, doll?”

His boxers. The only clothes he had left on were his grey boxers. You wanted to give him privacy and not look, especially in such a broken and vulnerable state. But god, you could see the outline of his partially-hard cock through the soft cotton. You thought about what it would be like to have your mouth around his hard length, chocking on it as he rammed himself into the back of your throat.

“Ummm, I just--I thought--I mean I can---Only if you want--” The dirty thoughts clouded your brain. It made speaking a speaking a sentence almost impossible as your mouth watered just thinking about his cock.

“It was a joke, sweetheart,” he laughed heartily, “You’re too adorable.”

Pulling his boxers down his legs, he waddled tiredly over to the tub before stepping in. He groaned in pleasure at the feeling of the warm water encapsulating his exhausted body. You imagined that’s how he’d groan if you sucked his cock so hard he was seeing stars.

You were still facing the door, like you were as Steve got completely undressed. You knew if you turned around and look at him, naked and at ease, you’d jump his bones in a heartbeat. “Come sit with me, Y/N”

And you did. You turned around cautiously, like you expected, the bubbles covered his body enough for you to be able to handle yourself as you sat down next to the tub. You grabbed his hand away from his lips, running your soft fingers over his rough calloused ones. “I always see you biting your nails or cuticle or lips or your pens. Why?”

He sighed, “I’m not sure, I guess it just distracts me?” He said it more like it was a question rather than a statement. “I guess I don’t truly know why I do it, I guess I just enjoy having things in my mouth.��

You could read Steve like a book, his pupils blown with lust, his lip stuck between his teeth, a blush heating up his cheeks. You took a leap of faith.

“Yeah, like what?”

“You.”

His lips were on yours in a flurry, it took a second for you to react, but as soon as you did it felt amazing. Neither of you seemed to care about the water splashing over you as his hands trailed up your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

He pulls away panting, “F-Fuck, Y/N, I need you. Please. Oh my god I need you so bad,” His eyes looked as if they were welling up with tears and he looked so pretty still in the relaxing bubble bath, whimpering and whining for you. 

“God, I need you too, baby,” you stop to look in his eyes sincerely, “Are you sure you want this? I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want to do or that you will regret.” Your hand caresses his cheek.

“Just get in here with me and I’ll show you how much I want you,” he whispered, “Need you, really.”

You sighed before your hands moved shakily to take off your t shirt. As much as you wanted this, you were still scared of how the ripped super solider would feel about you and your body, As soon as your shirt was off, Steve was whimpering, dipping his hand into the soapy water to massage his aching cock. This only spurred you to take off your clothes and join him faster. 

“Did I say you could touch yourself, puppy?” Your stern voice caught him off-guard, making him pause his actions with a look of fear on his face. You step into the bathtub, straddling him. Your nails raked up his milky white thighs, trailing up his body admiring the beauty of it. “Y’Know I was planning on being nice to you because you’ve been so good to me, but you might need to be punished, baby? Do you need to punshied like a brat?”

He mewled, bowing his head in shame. You could feel him growing harder and harder by the second and you were starting to go crazy with the empty feeling inside of you that on he could fill. “No, ma’am. I’ll be good, I swear!”

“Mmmm, that’s my good boy.” Your hands slid up his chest and rested on his cheeks, hearing him preen at your praise, as you repositioned yourself over his cock. “Are you sure you want this?”

“If you dont ride me into next week right fucking now I’m going to scream, Y/N,” He breathed out with a chuckle, Grabbing your thighs, he helps you sink down on his cock. Both of you were moaning and whimpering messes by the time you were sitting at this base of him, trying to get adjusted to his large size. 

Hot tears burned at the back of his eyes as soon as you lifted yourself up off of him, only leaving the tip of him inside of you, and slamming back down on his dick. 

“Baby-please,” he whimpered, “n-need, shit, need your fingers, bad.” 

You were confused, slowing down a bit to make sure he was okay. But his puppy dog eyes showed that he was okay. Slowly taking your wrist from his cheek, he puts your fingers in his warm mouth. Moaning around them and swirling his tongue around them. He did it the same way you always dreamed about sucking his dick, chocking and gagging on his length.

“Yeah, you’re such a needy little slut for me, for this pussy. Look at you, so ruined and fucked out just because I’m fucking you.” He moaned sensually at your words making your core tighten impossibly. 

You had gotten a good idea as you were riding him. Slowly, you start to thrust your hand in and out of his mouth, watching the saliva dribble out of the corners of his mouth as he choked on you. The band in your tummy starts tightening as you feel yourself getting close. 

“Shit, fuck, baby, I’m gonna come. Oh my god, you’re make me come with your beautiful cock, puppy. So good for me, aren’t you?” Your free hand dips into the water, cupping his balls and rolling them around your soft palm.

He nods, choking on your nimble finger yet again his you massage his sensitive balls. “Gonna come,” he slurred and spit around you.\, “almost there.”

“I didn’t” you moaned as you feel his balls tighten, fall back down on his cock at a faster pace, “give you permission to do that. I thought you were going to be good for me?”

“I am” he spluttered loudly, “i am good, I swear. Just please let me come. I need it, oh shit, mommy.”

The name went straight to your core, making you grow weak as you feebly give him permission to come as you come undone with one more bounce on his large member. His hands come up to grope your breasts as he come with hot spurts inside of your tight cunt. 

“Oh my god,” you stifle a giggle as you stand up on shaky legs. You wordlessly helped him out of the tub and wrapped him in a white towel, walking him to bed while you dried yourself off. Collapsing on the bed with a grunt, the solider hollds out his hand to you, signalling you to lay down with him. You could easily tell he was still coming down from his sex high, starting to regain his self back.

“I dont know what possessed me to,” he pauses, trying to figure out a way to word the rest of his sentence, “to suck, I guess, on your hand. I’m sorry, Y/N, that was really weird of me.”

“What do’ya mean, baby? Having an oral fixation isn’t something to be ashamed of.” The words make him smile with droopy eyes, tucking his head into your neck and starting to fall asleep, happy and comfortable, cuddling you.

“And to be honest, puppy. I think it’s really hot.”

[softmothprince]

dragon’s claim

Zhongli's sweet darling needs a... gentle, reminder of what exactly they are to each other

this is a collab piece with one of my friends~ they are much better at writing fluff than i am and it hits me in the feels

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

She’s not pouting. Absolutely not. She’s also not glaring at the woman currently leaning on Zhongli’s arm, staring up at him with heart eyes as he rambles happily about the tea he was buying. Her arms are crossed and she leans heavily into the railing of the bridge, jaw clenched and teeth grinding.

No. She is not jealous of some… some… harlot! With a loud huff, she pushes off the railing and walks off the bridge, hearing her sandals click against the wood and then stone. Once she’s close enough, the tall geo archon looks up and gives that stupidly cute smile, cheerfully calling her name.

She refuses to acknowledge him and waits for him to finish his conversation. “Ready to go home dear?” he said with a sweet smile. She doesn’t respond and starts walking away back through the market as gently pulls her close to him. He sighs and leads her to a side alley, where she leans against a wall still not looking at him. He leans in close.

“Is my darling jealous?” He whispers, tucking her hair back behind her ear. His fingertips trace around her temple, then under her eye, before cupping her face. “You know I only hold affection for you, little one.”

He tenderly presses kisses over her cheeks and nose, placing a firm one on her lips. He pulls back enough to stare into her eyes, seeing the internal fight she is having. To submit to him or continue to pout and sulk. It makes him sigh and shut his eyes- as though a headache was creeping up on him.

“It seems I am going to have to… remind you, of that fact.” He decides, sliding his hands down to her wrists and brings her hands up to kiss them. His eyes peek open, glowing a warm amber in the dying light as he gives her a heated look. “I’m going to make love to you until your heart understands how much I love you.”

She pulls her face away and with a sad pout says, "Remind me of what Rex Lapis?"

He frowns, "That's not-"

"Remind me that only I get jealous and that the great Rex Lapis doesn't?!" she said with tears starting to fall down her face. "I'm the only one who gets possessive over you and you don't! It's like it doesn't bother you if someone else looks at me like that! Maybe next time Kaeya tries to-"

He slammed his hands into the wall, pinning her to it, "Kaeya did what?" he said with a low growl, his pupils having shifted into slits.

She shuddered for a moment. Seeing the amount of territorial possessive in his eyes made her heart stop and she struggled to find the words.

“Little one,” he said sternly, “I’m going to ask you again. What did Kaeya do?”

She took a deep breath. “The other day Kaeya came by the office and was trying to flirt as usual and he asked me if I wanted to go with him and have a real man for a master,” she answered nervously.

A fierce growl ripped from Zhongli’s throat, almost like a suppressed roar. She could see his struggle to stay composed as his fangs grew and scales started to appear on his neck.

“That damn bastard,” he said with another growl, “He has the audacity to try and take my precious mate from me?” She let out a small gasp. His horns were starting to poke through. “How dare he. If I see him again I’ll-”

He was cut off when he felt her hug him tightly. “I don't want anyone else!” she said before looking up at him. “The only master I want is you. My dragon, my Zhongli. So please don’t let anyone else try and take you from me either.” Her eyes on the verge of tears.

He sighed and kissed her forehead. “We’re going home. Now. I still have to teach you a lesson.” She nodded, “Yes Master.”

~*~

Her heart pounds in her chest, loud enough she wouldn’t be surprised if he heard it. Though, he’d had to be listening to that instead of the sounds coming from his hand playing with her cunt. After what had happened earlier, he had taken her home and immediately stripped them both of their clothes, pinning her down onto their bed.

It took him only a few seconds to pounce on her, his hand delving between her thighs to her pussy. It was wet and sticky, slick coating her thighs and his fingers. His narrowed gaze shifts from her pussy as he leans forward, latching onto her throat. His teeth scrape over her pulse, then travel down to the crook of her neck.

A deep scar laid on the soft flesh, marking her as his. His heart, his love, his mate. He eagerly kisses and nibbles around it, the scarred flesh much more sensitive and giving him the reactions he wanted. Her breath tickled his ear, every moan, sigh, and whisper of his name making him shiver.

He runs his other hand up her torso, cupping her breast and flicking his thumb gently over her nipple. She trembled more, waiting for him to snap and take her. She saw how fired up he had been earlier when just mentioning another man, she knows that flame is still burning fiercely in him.

And when he pulls away from her neck to look into her eyes, she can see it flickering in those piercing gems. A small bead of sweat drips down her neck and between her breasts, catching his attention. He doesn’t hesitate to follow it, kissing along the soft curve of her breasts, his tongue curling around her nipples when his mouth latches onto them.

Zhongli hums and pulls his hand away from between her legs, glancing at the mess he caused. She was far from cumming, but he had all night to… remind and teach her exactly what it meant to be his mate. Strong hands suddenly pull her across the bed until her legs dangle off the end, feeling a small burning from where the sheets rubbed.

He kneels between her thighs, nuzzling his cheek along the soft flesh and kissing the inside of her knee as he looks at her soaked pussy, a deep croon building in his chest. She shifts her still trembling legs, only to find them suddenly being grabbed and pinned to strong shoulders as a head of dark hair disappears between them.

She can hear him hum and whisper something, then say much louder in a teasing tone: “Itadakimasu~”

Something firm and hot swipes over her swollen clit, making her jolt with a loud yelp. Another swipe and she lets her head fall back onto the pillows, hands balling up into the sheets. Zhongli peers up at her through his lashes, taking in her reactions and growls when her thighs try to shut. He pushes them apart again, huffing against her cunt.

“Do not. Do that.” He scolds, then dives back in before she could speak, keeping his eyes on her face.

Loud slurps and wet smacks fill the room, blending in with his deep moans of pleasure. Her own suddenly reaches a higher pitch, her hips jumping when she feels his fingers slowly push inside and stroke the inside walls of her pussy. Her hand snaps down to tangle into his hair, tugging and causing more growls and moans to pour from his chest.

“I will never tire of this,” He purrs, pulling back slightly to look at how easily his fingers are sucked into her. “I will never tire of how beautiful you are when I pluck you like a lyre. The sounds you make are as sweet as birds' songs.” He dips down to suck on her clit, feeling her nails dig into his scalp.

“Your scent and taste are far better than the finest wines I’ve ever had. I will never tire of this.” He repeats, making sure that when he slowly stands up he catches her flustered gaze. “I will never tire of you.” He whispers, leaning over her body.

“Master-” She gasps and is cut off by him grabbing her knees, pushing them back against her chest.

She watches with wide eyes as his appearance smoothly changes, dark scales bleeding from his skin, fangs growing over his lips and horns poking through his hair. Zhongli rubs his fingers- no, they feel more like claws now -down her thigh and grabs his cock, lining up with her entrance.

His cock slides in easily, the walls of her cunt squeezing and sucking him in deeper. He bows his head, watching his dick thrust in and out, his breath picking up and sounds similar to growling building more and more. He returns his grip to her knees, leaning on them as his hips slap loudly against hers.

Sweat drips down his brow, his slitted pupil fluctuating as he looks at her face. Her cheeks are blushed a deep red, eyes rolling into the back of her head and mouth parted to let out moans and incoherent babbles.

“Master- Master ple-please, mo-more~” She sobs, nails scraping and digging into the skin of his arms and shoulders.

The small pinpricks of pain are lost in the throes of pleasure, his nerves burning with every thrust. He dips down to her ear, moaning and purring for a moment before managing to speak.

“Mate… you… breed… gonna fill you… so full… mine!…” He shudders, the familiar feeling of swelling at the lower part of his cock growing more and more. The knot kisses the outside of her cunt, dipping in ever so slightly before disappearing.

He grunts, one hand dropping her leg and going to grab her throat. He doesn’t squeeze to choke her, just presses enough to get her attention, growling her name when she only whimpers. Once those pretty eyes are on him, he lets his growing knot finally push in completely, feeling her entire body freeze as it registers the sudden sensation.

“Breathe, little one.” His voice is deeper. More rough than the usual smooth silk.

She finally lets out a sob, his knot pushing and rubbing her sweet spots deliciously. He manages a few more thrusts, until the knot is too swollen to pull out again. Does that stop him? Absolutely not. He humps and grinds like a man gone wild, slamming his mouth to hers to hide the animalistic sounds pouring out of him.

Her tongue flicks over his fangs, making him shudder and grip her tighter. He removes the hand from her throat and delves it between their bodies, finding her clit and- taking care of his claws -rubs it swiftly. A few more well placed thrusts, his teeth nipping her bottom lip, and she convulses around his cock while crying out his name.

The ravenette drops onto his arms over her, continuing to move as he himself cums thick and hot inside her. He presses his forehead against hers, sharing their breaths and staring into each other's eyes as they slowly come down from their high. Both of them are shaking, his darling more so.

Ever so slowly, he lets her leg go and brings his hand up to cup her face, stroking his thumb over her cheek and wiping away the tears of pleasure she let out. His other hand goes to hers, bringing it from his shoulder and to press against his chest- right above his racing heart. He can feel hers through their fingers.

He kisses her hand and then dips his forehead to meet hers while their breath slowly steadies and his knot recedes. Once he can move again he carefully begins to clean her up and wrapping her in one of the blankets before sitting next to her on the bed. His dragon features slowly fading.

He pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her and planting soft kisses on her temple as she nuzzled into his neck. He smiled at his darling as she relaxed in his arms, letting out a small laugh remembering her pouty face from earlier which caused her to look up at him. He kissed her forehead. She was so unbelievably cute when she got jealous or pouted. Something about her moments of attitude made him love her so much more.

He then looked into her eyes with a warm smile. "My precious darling, don't you know that I will spoil you with whatever your heart desires? Whether it be riches and gifts or," he kisses her hand softly, "my time and affection. Whatever you ask of me is yours."

She blushes and tries to hide her face in his neck but he holds her by the chin,

"Don't forget. Dragons mate for life and you darling are my mate. Understand?"

She nods her head, while gazing into his eyes.

"With words my dear," he says leaning in to graze his fangs on her neck as a small reminder of what they had just done.

"Y-yes sir," she says blushing.

He smiles and pulls her in closer while caressing her cheek. "Good girl. Now let's rest shall we? Rest and get all the cuddles you want from your Dragon."

[mrs-gucci]

Casting Couch {Charlie Barber x Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! I was driving home from work the other day and this idea just suddenly took over my entire thought process. so, naturally, I went ahead and wrote it up :)

warnings (what you see here is what you’ll get!): smut. the enemy of my enemy is my ally (with benefits). p in v sex. protected sex. rough oral sex. cum- swallowing.

(possible) tw’s: semi-public sex.

word count: 3.2k

charlie’s taglist peeps! {charlie currently doesn’t have any taglist peeps} my general taglist peeps! @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​  @gildedstarlight​ @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy​ @I-can’t-draw-faces @ahsoka1​ @babbushka​ @safarigirlsp​ (if you’d like to be added to or removed from any of my taglists, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist)

Two Years Ago.

“Y/N...she fucking did it again.” Nicole says as she barges through the door of hers and Charlie’s shared brownstone. “She got the fucking TV gig.”

Charlie’s eyebrows furrow a bit before looking up at his wife with an empathetic expression, setting the notebook and pen he’d been using down on the coffee table.

“Bummer. I really thought you had it in the bag.” He says, elbows on his thighs as he leans forward a bit, folding his hands. “There will be other roles; I wouldn’t worry too much. You win some, you lose some; that’s how it goes in this industry. You’ve taken plenty of roles from her.”

She sighs, nodding. “Yeah, I know, but this one I was excited about. And I really thought I had it, too. It just stung a little extra, you know?”

Her husband nods, patting the seat next to him on the couch. “C’mere, sit with me. We’ll have a glass of wine.”

Nicole gives somewhat of a dreadful grimace, a clear sign she really wasn’t interested. Charlie’s been noticing this for the past few months, her disinterest in being with him as much as she usually was, but he figured it was just her being tired. She’s been doing a lot of odd jobs to make some ends meet lately, so it’s probably a result of that.

“Are you sure?” He asks, a twang of longing sadness in his voice.

She nods. “Yeah, I’m just gonna go lay down for a bit.”

Charlie just nods, picking back up his notebook and pen, continuing to review and add to his notes from the day. 

“Let me know if you need anything.” He calls after her. “I love you.”

She only offers him a small smile over her shoulder in return before emerging into their bedroom, closing the door immediately behind her. 

Present Day.

It feels strange, holding auditions for a female lead. He hasn’t had to do so in almost a decade;  just yet another reminder of how much of his life has changed just in the past year.

The divorce had been painful, stressful, and he was honestly more relieved than anything when it finally came to a close, despite it not really turning out the way he’d hoped for in terms of custody over Henry. 

Luckily, he’s dove deeper into his one true love, directing, as a way to cope with the loss of everything he’d worked so hard to build for himself; the marriage, the 'American dream’ family and home he wished he’d had growing up.

Now, after six months of weekly therapy appointments and keeping himself busy with work, he’s feeling more like the old Charlie he was back before everything went to shit. Actually, he’s feeling like an even better version of that Charlie, the best version of himself there’s been in a while, perhaps even before he met and married Nicole.

The first audition comes onstage and Charlie can’t decide what’s worse, her off-pitch singing or her monotonous speaking voice. 

God, this was going to be a long fucking day.

-

You’d heard through the grapevine that the famed Broadway director had moved here to LA, and that he’d divorced his witch of a wife, Nicole. 

Nicole Barber had been your biggest rival ever since you swiped that first movie role away from her. She hates you, and you don’t particularly like her, either, thus your rivalry began. And it was pretty heated, too; the two of you were always trying to one-up each other.

It really was a back-and-forth battle, her swiping roles from you, you returning the favor; it was a game, to put it simply. Although lately, you’ve been getting more roles than she has, not that you’re complaining, and there’s a part of you that hopes she quits the business for good.

Word got around that Charlie is heading his first LA Broadway production and what better way to hit Nicole close to home than to show up at her ex-husband’s auditions? Even better, what if you got the female lead in her ex-husband’s production? Oh god, that would be fantastic, not only for the rivalry but also for your career.

You’ve been looking to branch out into more theater roles, and this is as good an opportunity as to dip your toe in the theater world water. Plus, you’re not necessarily complaining about having the chance to look at and work with Charlie Barber every day...

So you prepared your piece of dialogue and a section of one of the choice songs, heading over to the theater fifteen minutes before your set audition time. Your knee bounces as you sit in the waiting area, eyes running over your script and lyrics sheet one final time, solidifying it all in your memory.

Your name is called a few minutes later and you head out onto the stage, handing over your headshot and qualifications resume. The agent hands over your profile to the handsome director, but he doesn’t even really look at it, already knowing exactly who you are. A small smirk grazes his lips as he flips to a new page of his notebook, clicking the top of his pen.

“Whenever you’re ready, Miss Y/N.”

After you’re finished, Charlie scribbles one final thing in his notebook before looking up at you. His eyes trail over your figure for a moment, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Would you be comfortable coming back for a more intimate audition later this week? Maybe, Friday at four? I would like to get to know you better, see if you meet all of my... qualifications.”

The look in his eye tells you all you need to know about the true motivations behind his question. You nod, biting your lip.

“It’d be my absolute pleasure, Mr. Barber.” You purr.

He shifts in his seat suddenly and quickly crosses one leg over the other before opening up your folder, handing the top sheet to his assistant.

“Diane, go ahead and have Miss Y/N put down all of her contact information.” His gaze never leave you as he speaks to the timid-seeming young woman. “Make sure she gives her personal cell number.”

You pull a pen from your bag on the stage, clicking it open before Diane hands you the paper. As you write every means of contact you can think of, starting with your cell number, you playfully bite the end of the pen and tap it against your bottom lip, something that certainly keeps the already attentive director’s full attention.

“Thank you so much for this opportunity, Mr. Barber.” Your tone is innocent-sounding, but your gaze is anything but. It sends a chill down Charlie’s spine. “I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t.” A small tug at one corner of his lip accompanies his response. “See you soon, Miss Y/N.”

You offer him a nod.

“Looking forward to it.”

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

In preparation for your upcoming...meeting with Charlie, you take a quick trip to the nearest intimates store, picking up a pretty little lace bra and panty set. Your lingerie wardrobe is long overdue for a bit of sprucing up, anyway.

When the time comes, you slip the fresh lace garments on before putting on your planned outfit, a cute-but-subtly-sexy low cut romper. You put on a light face of makeup, purely for professionalism’s sake, then head out with a small bag which contains various personal items as well as your script and composition page.

He’s not in his backstage office when you arrive, but he comes in a couple minutes later, a strong stench of cigarette smoke trailing behind him as he walks by your chair.

“I apologize for the delay. You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

You shake your head as he takes a seat behind the ratty oak desk, shifting a few small stacks of papers around on the heavily scratched surface.

“No, no I wasn’t waiting long.”

He nods, then folds his hands atop the desk, eyes flickering up to meet yours. For a moment, his eyes dart down to where your cleavage creeps out of your low-cut top.

“You’ve got the part.” Charlie says with a small smile. “You’re by far the best and most qualified audition we had yesterday, and I like the way you carry yourself. You’re exactly the type of person I like working with. Part’s yours if you want it.”

You’re overcome with joy, a wide smile spreading itself across your lips. “I’d love to be a part of this production, Mr. Barber. I’m really excited to get to work with you and the rest of the crew.”

“That’s great, I’m glad to hear it.” He nods, smile widening when as he processes your acceptance. His delighted expression falls after a few moments, replaced by one much more salacious.

“Now that we’ve gotten that part out of the way...I think you know why I called a meeting of such, uh, privacy.”

You smirk softly, shifting around in your seat slightly. “I believe I do.”

His feet plant on the ground as he pushes the rolling office chair out from under the desk, standing up and walking around the desk to tower over you. 

“Before anything happens, though, I want you to know that whether or not you do this with me will not affect my casting decision. Even if you decline, you still have the part.”

You nod before standing, quickly and swiftly, stepping forward to press yourself flush against him.

“Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

Your hands rest on his chest, neck craning slightly to look up at him. “Just kiss me, will you?”

He laughs, massive hand moving to cradle the back of your head before he bends down and connects your lips in a passionate kiss. There’s nothing tender or gentle about this embrace, it’s all tongue and teeth, raw lust coursing between your two bodies.

“Couch.” His voice is soft but husky.

“Unzip me first?” You ask, turning around so he can unzip you. He does, then his hands slide down to your hips and pushes you towards the leather couch tucked in the corner of his office.

The material squeaks when you’re laid down on top of it, head resting comfortably on the cushy fabric accent pillow as he climbs on top of you. He presses his hips forward while he tucks his face into the crook of your neck and plants kisses on the skin there.

Your eyes widen as his impressive bulge rubs up against your inner thigh and you quickly wonder how in the world you’ll be able to take him. His crooked teeth scrape over the taut muscles in your neck while his hands pull the backs of your romper down over your shoulders.

His hands grab and grope your breasts beneath where they rest in your nice bra, one you wore just for him, and your back arches slightly up off the cushions with a soft sigh. 

A small smile crosses his expression, teeth sinking gently into your neck. “I like the little noises you make for me, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You smirk, running your hands through his hair. “Then I bet you’ll like my moans, too. If you think you can draw them out of me, that is.”

He laughs softly, sucking and licking at at the place his teeth have just abused. “Is that a challenge?”

“Well, it’s more like an invitation to prove yourself, but ‘challenge’ is also a good word for it.”

Charlie pulls away with a smirk, shaking his head as he sits back on his haunches and begins to unbuckle his belt.

“Brat.”

Once he’s undone his pants and pulled them down enough to expose himself to you, he leans down once more and pulls your romper the rest of the way off, leaving you completely bare, minus your undergarments. His eyes roam your figure for a moment before he dips a hand beneath the patch of black fabric nestled between your thighs.

Your breath hitches as his fingertips swipe over your erect clit, giving it a few little circles before yanking the panties off your hips and down your ankles, tossing them down alongside your previously-discarded romper.

His eyes widen in realization, cheeks flushing pink.

“Do you have any, um, protection?”

You smirk, nodding as you sit up and pat his chest. “Indeed, I do.”

He crawls off of you and you walk over to your purse, grabbing a condom from the mini-stash you keep in your wallet, the one you replenished just minutes before you left the house this afternoon. He takes it from you and pinches the tip, rolling it down his shaft. For a moment, you’re worried that it isn’t going to fit, but he rolls it on with little issue.

His hips press forward, then, entering you slowly but steadily with a soft grunt. You whine as your insides stretch out around him, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair.  “S-Shit.”

“You’re really fucking tight, jesus.” He growls between gritted teeth, jaw screwed shut as his hips begin to move. “I haven’t fffucked anyone in a while, Y/N, so I can’t guarantee that I’ll last very long.”

You nod, softly. “It’s alright, Charlie; it’s been a little while for muh--me, too.”

Your eyes flutter shut and your face begins to scrunch up with each time his fat cockhead brushes up against your cervix. His pace increases after a minute or so, a consistent slap-slap-slap noise now echoing off the drywall with each snap of his hips. 

“You’ve got a nice little pussy, you know that? Always knew you would be, too, knew you’d be a good little cccocksleeve.”

You moan shakily as he adjusts his position, towering over you and pinning your wrists above your head with one of his large hands. Your body begins to bounce, tits, thighs and tummy jiggling each time he thrusts in. 

He’s starting to sweat, a few dark hairs sticking to his dimly-glowing forehead, more and more accumulating there as his hair rocks back and forth in time with the rhythm of his hips.

“Touch yourself, now, rrrub your little clit.” His voice is getting shaky as he draws nearer to climax.

Nodding, your hand slides down between your joined bodies until your fingertips settle onto the small bundle of nerves. The hand that’s still weaved in Charlie’s locks clenches and he lets out a sudden deep growl, hips stuttering for a moment.

“Ooooh, Charlie.” You moan, hips lifting and gyrating against both his cock and your fingers.

“God, fffuck I love this cunt.” A vulgar squelching sound knits itself within the quilt of your salacious symphony. “Wrapped around my cock like a vice, gonna pull the fucking cum right out of it. Swear you get tighter each time I push back in...christ, I’m not gonna last.”

Your fingers circle your clit faster, setting a desperate pace, one that almost matches his quick and sloppy thrusts. You’re close now, too, and it doesn’t take much longer for your orgasm to hit.

You cream around him with a long moan and a string of various other noises, with a few profanities thrown in as well. The product of your release coats his shaft in a pearlescent sheen, dripping down his ball-sack soon enough. 

The sensations your climax creates around Charlie forces him to pull away almost immediately after, quickly yanking the condom off and onto his office floor, squeezing the base of his flaming red length. 

His hand seizes your jaw tightly, thumb pressing down on your tongue, prying your mouth open. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth and shove my cum down your throat, and you’re gonna take it all, isn’t that right?”

You’re nodding instantly, slacking your jaw to open even further in preparation for his upcoming intrusion. He smirks.

“Good. Now, on your knees.”

He sits down where you once laid, lazily pumping his throbbing length as you get into position between his spread legs. He pulls your hair up into a makeshift ponytail with his hand, then lines you up with his cock and eases your mouth down onto him.

“Thaaaaaat’s it, oh, gooooood girl.”

You start gagging about three quarters of the way down his shaft, but he still keeps pushing until you’ve got the whole thing in your mouth. Your jaw’s already getting sore as he begins thrusting upwards, fucking your mouth. 

Tears swell in your eyes and begin to spill down your cheeks the more he goes, mascara surely ruined and running down your face. The sight only arouses him further, a low groan rumbling through his puffed chest.

He’s trying so hard to keep himself together, to stave off his orgasm for as long as he can manage, but soon he finds it next to impossible to hold back. His bottom lip quivers ever so slightly as his length begins to twitch, balls drawing up.

“Fuck, I’m gonna--”

You taste and feel the salty ropes shooting down your throat before he can even finish his warning.

“Ah, fffuuuuck.” His head falls back against the couch cushions, hips bucking gently as each bit of release is spilled into your mouth. His grip on your head relaxes after he’s finished, cock softening while he catches his breath and re-grounds himself in reality.

Your chest heaves as full airflow returns to your lungs, knees and jaw aching a bit sore from their exertion. You grab your underwear from where they lay discarded on top of your romper, putting them back on before standing up on somewhat shaky legs. 

Charlie also redresses, standing and straightening himself out as you do the same. 

“Mind zipping me back up?” You ask, turning around again. 

He pulls the zipper up your back until it’s at the end of its tracks, then steps up behind you, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

“Thank you.”

A soft smile grazes your lips. “No ‘thanks’ needed; the sweet taste of revenge and spite is payment enough.”

He laughs quietly.

“Well, I’ll certainly be available, should you ever need a little replenishing of those feelings.”

“Mr. Barber, you wouldn’t be saying that because you’d like to see me naked again, now would you?” Your eyebrows raise and you look over your shoulder, a playful smile on your face.

He laughs again, blushing a bit. “Uh, yeah, sure, I'd like that a lot. But I’d also like to see you, um...not naked, fully clothed, maybe at a restaurant in the city for dinner sometime? I totally get it if you’re not interested, it’s not a big deal if you don’t want to...”

Holy shit, he’s asking you out on a date. Well, he’s trying to, at least.

You laugh, cheeks warming at his proposition.

“Sure thing. I just accepted this new job, though, so I’ll have to get back to you about my availability...”

Charlie smiles, shoving his hands down in his khaki pockets. “I’m sure your new boss would be more than willing to accommodate. He’s a pretty cool guy, or so I’ve heard. Handsome, too.”

“Oh yeah? Sounds like you have a reliable informant.” You turn around as you laugh softly, grabbing your bag off the chair before stepping up in front of him. Your lips plant a quick peck on his, hands resting on his broad chest. “See you soon.”

He nods, biting his lip to hold back his big, goofy smile.

“Can’t wait.”

[inkykeiji]

i’ll keep you in mind, from time to time

cactus anon said: had a little dream about daddy tomura, but it's when his princess gets sick... like very sick. seemingly out of nowhere. we know he's always cautious about your health and well being, so this is odd to say the least. you could have got it simply from getting the mail or sitting out on the balcony. well you see, daddy has a very strict rule when he's working - you mustn't disturb him when he's in a vital meeting. and you feel so ill that you know you can't just wait until he's done (whenever that will be - it's hard to tell sometimes). you feel like you have no choice but to ask for help 🥺 and there's not many people daddy would allow in his home to come see you when he's not present. except for... dabi...

genre: angst

notes: is this set in the bmb universe????? tbh, yeah, probably. i wrote this with bmb tomura and bmb dabi in mind (my mind just goes straight to bmb tomura the moment i see daddy tomura ehehe). do you need to read the monster that is bmb before reading this? absolutely not, since it’s technically a prequel of sorts! | title credit: moose blood’s first album ehehehe

warnings: sad boi dabi, very sick reader, it’s implied that tomura has cut her off from everyone she knows, pining, daddy kink, mention of drugs

words: 2.9k

Nestled under Tomura’s fluffy comforter and curled in on yourself in his mammoth bed, your silk babydoll sticks to your damp, sweaty skin, teeth clattering together so violently it’s almost painful, even though your flesh is scalding to the touch. It’s a surprise that Daddy can’t hear it, that incessant clackclackclack echoing down the vacant halls, a surprise he didn’t come running immediately—like he always does—at the sound of your pitiful little whimpers as you burrowed deeper into his mattress.

He must be really, really busy today.

And you know better than to interrupt him when he’s really, really busy.

But—But it all hurts so much, head pounding with such vigour you can barely see straight, muscles aching and weak, a loud whine escaping your lips as you roll over, groping around in the blankets for your phone. It’s too bright when you finally locate it, eyes squinting and a hiss catching in your throat as you bring the screen too close to your face, quickly scrolling through your contacts in a desperate attempt to find someone—anyone—to come to your rescue.

You know you should wait. Really, you should. Your Daddy is jealous, and protective, and possessive, and there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he’s going to be upset when he finds out that you called someone else to take care of you.

But—But it could be hours until Daddy’s done with his work—sometimes he spends the entire night in that stupid wood-paneled office, and you can’t risk it. It’s terrifying, this nightmarish illness that seemingly appeared out of nowhere, with its sudden onslaught of concerning symptoms worsening by the second, and you’re beginning to wonder if something is seriously wrong, the thought sending icy spikes of anxiety shooting through your veins.

No, you can’t risk it—you can’t wait.

A thumb hovers over your mother’s name in hesitance, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you consider. Her place isn’t necessarily close, but she’s the relative that’d be able to reach you the fastest—even so, it’d take her at least two hours to get here, and that’s assuming there’s no traffic on the roads. But she isn’t exactly fond of your boyfriend, and the last thing you want to deal with while feeling like you’re dying is a fight between the two of them. You know how nasty they can get.

So you keep scrolling, fingers halting for a second time as your best friend’s name flies past your eyes.

It’s been months since you last spoke—Tomura being the topic of your last conversation, of your last fight. You’re spending too much time with him, they had claimed, eyes cloaked in a glossy sheen of tears as they frenetically searched your face, almost begging you to understand. It’s unhealthy! It’s unnatural! They had said with a vicious shake of their head. He has you in a fucking chokehold, can’t you see that?

Eyelids squeeze shut tightly against the familiar burn of tears, their last few words echoing through your mind, bouncing off the walls of your skull and reverberating, louder and louder and louder—

No. You can’t do this right now, your head throbbing in retaliation, a painful lump nestling into the column of your throat. It’s too much, too much, and you don’t want to think anymore, can feel that neediness rooting deep at the core of your body, a longing to just be taken care of and nurtured, frantically scrolling back up as urgent eyes search the names blurring by on the screen. A gasp falls from your lips as his name whirs by, fingers scrambling to scroll back down and find it again.

Dabi.

Daddy trusts Dabi, doesn’t he? Daddy likes Dabi, right? They’re friends, aren’t they? Out of all of the people you just scrolled through, Dabi is evidently the best choice, the most correct choice, is he not?

Your thumb trembles a little as it levitates over his name—you don’t know him well, have only spoken a mere handful of words to him in the six months you’ve been dating Tomura, but...but he appears to be your only hope.

His voice is rough when he answers, abruptly cutting through the dull second ring, evident surprise bleeding into it when you whimper out your name, mumbled against the receiver. He regains his composure a moment later, tone hardening as he asks you why the fuck you thought it’d be a good idea to call him, of all people.

Tears blur your vision, sniffling a little as you explain the situation, frail voice breaking as you tell him about how you’re terrified you’re dying, and Daddy’s too busy, and last time—last time you interrupted him you got in real big trouble, and he’s your only hope, you need him, and please, Dabi?

And God, he’s chuckling into your ear, low and hoarse and inspiring a flock of butterflies to soar through your stomach, a sensation you swear is from whatever sickness has infected your body. You’re so lucky you’re fucking cute.

He hangs up directly after that, doesn’t spare you a second to respond, arriving at in penthouse in ten minutes flat, and you’re not sure you’ve ever been happier to see his tattooed face.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes when he sees you, curled up beneath the fluffy comforter, strands of hair shining with sweat and sticking to your skin. Pace quickening, he places his knuckles against your forehead, your sore eyes slipping shut at the cool relief his skin provides. A sharp hiss slips through his clenched teeth and he yanks his hand back, a soft whimper getting caught in your throat as you try to follow his touch.

A head of inky tousled hair shakes back and forth as he hastily leaves Tomura’s bedroom. Glass and ceramic clink together, the sound echoing down the hall, as Dabi roots around in the kitchen, swearing softly to himself when he can’t find what he’s looking for.

A cup of water is in his hands when he returns a few moments later, aspirin clutched in his other fist, still muttering under his breath about the thermometer not being where it’s supposed to be, and why the hell doesn’t Shigaraki have any cold and flu meds like, at all?

Perching on the edge of Tomura’s bed, he acts as if it’s such an inconvenience to him, as if he’s so annoyed that you’re sick and needy, but he really doesn’t hide it well enough. Because you see through his thinly veiled act even in your inebriated state—see the concern in his sapphire eyes as his eyebrows push together just a little, a tiny crease forming between them, see the way the corners of his lips keep pulling downwards with every single one of your pathetic little noises. A heavy sigh leaves his chest a moment later, body shuffling towards you, cobalt eyes still saturated with worry.

A large hand pets your sweaty hair, soft and gentle as the other tilts a glass of full water towards your lips, Dabi’s deep voice startlingly soft as he orders you to drink, princess.

And he doesn’t mean for the nickname to slip out, tells himself he only used it because he’s so accustomed to hearing Tomura use it—accustomed to hearing Tomura overuse it—panic’s sharp claws gripping his heart the moment it leaves his lips. But you seem too sick, too delirious, to notice or care, obediently swallowing the pills just like he told you to.

Good girl.

The praise just slips out too, those two simple words falling from his lips unconsciously, involuntarily, uncontrollably, and he chooses to focus on the fact that you drank the entire glass instead of the cute noise you make in response to his commendation, a trembling hand placing the empty cup on the oak bedside table.

The mattress dips as he prepares to get up, to move away, to put some much needed, necessary distance between the two of you, but a small, clammy hand catches his forearm, his entire body freezing in shock, stiff and still like a marble statue.

Sapphire eyes snap to the tiny hand gripping his arm, hyper-aware of the heat radiating off the sticky palm and seeping into his skin, and then dart to your face, wide and frenetic. What the fuck do you think you’re doing? he wants to snap, words turning to ash on his tongue. Because, Christ, you look like you’re about to fucking cry, staring at him through your lashes with those terrified eyes, begging him softly, shyly, not to leave.

“I’m not leaving,” he says with a roll of his eyes, yanking his arm free from your weak grasp, a soft whine escaping your lips as you grope the air for him again. “I’m 90 percent sure you have a dangerously high fever—there’s no way I’m going to leave you on your own until your asshole of a boyfriend is done doing whatever the fuck he’s doing. I’m just gonna move to that chair over there—”

“No!” you gasp, coughing on the word in your haste to reach for him again. “Please, stay, here,” you look down at the bed pointedly, gazing drifting back to his a moment later. “H-Here, with me,”

Dabi isn’t stupid. He knows Tomura will be seeing red the moment those scarlet eyes meet ice blue when he re-enters his bedroom from a day full of sifting through documents and yelling on conference calls. But when your boss’s plaything, his most prized possession, calls you in tears blubbering about how she’s sure she’s about to fucking die, well—coming by to take care of her is the lesser of two evils, don’t you think? Really, Tomura should be thanking him.

But Tomura returning from a day full of sifting through documents and yelling on conference calls to meet ice blue in his bed, next to said prized possession? Well, that’s a different story entirely.

He’s frozen as he mulls over it, your blunt nails digging soft, tiny crescents into his flesh, little marks that will fade only a few moments after you let go.

“I can’t do that,” he says softly, almost regretfully, and his tone of voice surprises him, startles him, scares him. Clearing his throat, he steels himself, pulling free from you again. “It isn’t right,”

“Please, Dabi,”

He’s sure you don’t miss the sharp, sudden intake of air sucked through his mouth when those two words leave your lips. He’s positive of it, because then you do it again.

“Please, Dabi,”

Your voice is softer this time, and the look he gives you is nearly heartbreaking, the perfect picture of a man being torn apart from the inside out, tortured and beautiful all at once.

“I—”

“Just until I fall asleep?” You try to bargain, bottom lip pushing out into an involuntary pout. Crystal eyes hold yours for a second longer before he sighs, chest heaving with the force of it.

He isn’t happy about it, about his apparent inability to say no to you, grumbling about it the entire time—you’re such a little fucking brat, y’know that? and only until you fall asleep, understand?—as he settles back against Tomura’s stupidly massive headboard, body going rigid and words hitching in his throat the moment you latch onto one of his thighs, nuzzling your face into his hip.

And really, he should tell you to get the fuck off of him. He should push you away, scold you for such behaviour, remind you that it’s wrong. He should. He wants to.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.

The realization has his heart pounding against his rib cage, breath stilling in his lungs and then accelerating, escaping his nostrils in short, quick huffs, lithe fingers curling in the cotton sheets underneath him. Don’t be a fucking coward, his inner voice growls at him, berating himself for such disgusting weakness. It doesn’t matter if she’s fucking sick, that isn’t an excuse!

Because that’s why he can’t find his voice, right? That’s why his fingers are twitching with the need to comb through your hair and caress you jaw, right? That’s why your cheek, burning hot through his black jeans as it snuggles into his upper thigh, sends a whole slew of unfamiliarity—excitement and terror and all sorts of things he doesn’t know how to explain, can’t begin to explain—rushing through his body, right?

Yes, that’s why. Of course that’s fucking why.

The thoughts cycle through his mind like a mantra, as if repeating them enough times, branding them into the tissues of his very brain itself, will make them true.

That’s why he allows you to sleep on him. That’s why his stomach flutters at the way your tiny fingers curl in the denim of his jeans as they readjust, pulling him closer. That’s why it feels like a zap of electricity buzzes through his veins as you murmur his name in your sleep, whimpering a little as your leg hitches over his calf.

That’s why. He’s sure of it.

His head snaps up the moment the double doors fly open, and he’s never been more relieved to see his boss’s face in his life.

Those crimson eyes scan the room twice—the first time quick, frantic and furious, the second slow, cold and calculating—before they finally connect with cobalt, gaze blazing.

“Care to explain to me what the fuck is going on here?”

“Oh thank God,” Dabi breathes, words slipping from his lips subconsciously, body shooting off of the bed as if the mattress had pierced him, his movements jolting you awake. “She called me,” he snaps before Tomura can speak again, bewildered ruby eyes darting between the two of you. “She’s sick as a fucking dog, boss,” the words are spit between clenched teeth, all those nasty feelings, the feelings delayed by you, no doubt—anger, hate, jealousy, melancholy—finally surfacing, bubbling and boiling in the center of his chest. “She was too scared to interrupt your work, so she called me,”

And Dabi can see it, the vicious jealousy that flashes in Tomura’s eyes, can see the way it makes his jaw clench, makes his molars grind together, makes his breath slice through the air with each sharp exhale through flared nostrils.

“Daddy,” you whine, tears collecting in your eyes, glimmering in the golden sunlight as it sinks beneath the horizon. “D-Daddy, it hurts, it hurts so much,”

All of the derision etched so deeply, so firmly into Tomura’s face melts away in an instant as you make grabby hands for him, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and leaving gleaming trails of salt water in their wake, little half-sobs of that stupid pet name hitching in your throat.

“Now that you are no longer preoccupied,” Dabi draws Tomura’s attention back towards himself, raising an eyebrow in challenge, daring his boss to retaliate. “I’ll be leaving. I trust that you can take care of her now, yeah?”

The words are practically snarled out, almost patronizing in tone, but he doesn’t wait for a response, tucking his head down as a shoulder knocks against his boss while stomping out of the room, heavy boots echoing throughout the quiet penthouse. Eyes squeeze shut tightly as he tries to ignore Tomura’s gentle coos, tries to ignore your cute, pathetic little wails and whimpers of Daddy, Daddy!, tries to ignore the sudden inexplicable ache that sears through his chest, settling deep at the core of his body and throbbing.

He can still smell you on his fucking skin, dainty notes of tiger orchid and toffee clinging to him. He promises himself he’ll hop in the shower and scrub any remnants of you off his flesh the moment he steps foot in his own apartment. He vows to himself that he’ll will this stupid, irksome feeling away—that he’ll rid himself of this irritating worry and unfamiliar concern the moment he gets home.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.

Because no matter how hard he tries, he’s unable to get you out of his head, soft needy whines of his name and perfect pouty lips invading his mind like a virus, infecting all of his thoughts, worming their way through his brain like some sort of invasive parasite.

The whole excursion lasted a mere two hours, even though Dabi was sure he spent the entire day with you in that bed, leaving nearly his entire evening free, just like he wanted.

That is what he wanted, isn’t it?

Of course it is. Of course.

So why does he spend the entire night wondering if you’re okay, if Tomura is taking good care of you, if he called his personal doctor to come check and diagnose you? Why does he waste hours typing out a short text message to send to you, only to erase it and type it out again, over and over and over, chewing his bottom lip raw in the process? Why does he dream of you that night, of soft smiles and glittering eyes, cute giggles and tiny palms burning his skin, gentle whispers and Please, Dabi?

Why?

And he should be shoving these feelings away, should be burying them deep within himself, should be numbing them with soft white powder and pretty white pills, should be forgetting them.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.

[bunni-bino]

Maybe how mihawk and ace and zorro would handle a fem! s/o's crazy and mean ex. Like I am feeling down about mine. Anytime hes sees with someone new, instant asshole, screaming at me in of the person I'm with. I feel with him around no will want to stick around. I just need heavy fluff

Mihawk, Ace + Zoro And A Fem! S/O With A Mean Ex

A/N : absolutely hope that this makes you feel better. I’ve never dated but I can’t imagine what that feels like ;-; I hope everything gets better and I’m so sorry this took so long to get out for you :(

Summary : these three boys and their reactions to your mean and crazy ex bothering you.

note : this seems like one of those emergency requests I’ve seen, so I wanted this out quickly but never got around to it :(

Warning : triggering scenes, harmful / harsh wording, etc.

Law, Shanks + Crocodile » Here!

-

Ace

Raging flames.

That is all that can be seen when a bystander passes the three of you in the streets on an island.

Ace is standing in front of you, keeping you behind him in a protective stance as his jaw and fists are clenched tightly, flames erupting from his body.

And the unconscious body of your ex lying down on the floor.

-

You and Ace were just exploring a new island the Whitebeard Pirates docked at, Marco picking up some medical supplies and a few others just seeing what they could find.

The two of you strayed off and stuck with each other to go sight-seeing, and unfortunately..

This happened to be the same island your ex lives.

And so when you two are walking and you hear an all too familiar voice, your blood runs cold.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little [Name]. Come back for more?”

Ace would be so confused and just glances back at the male who walks up behind you. “Do you know this guy, [Name]?”

“Who’s this? Your new boyfriend? Doesn’t look all that great to me.”

You bite down on your tongue to prevent yourself from saying anything but Ace can immediately sense something is wrong when he feels your grip on his hand tightening.

“Cat got your tongue? I bet you are speechless. You must be thinking to yourself, how you could go after some worthless guy like him and perhaps come back to me, begging me to take you back.” The condescending laugh is heard as he smirks at you.

Ace’s sharp glare is immediately sent to your ex and flames are slowly building with each passing second.

“If you do beg me, I may or may not consider it. It depends on how low you go down on your knees for me. But then again, I might have to reject you just so I can admire your horrendous face full of fear and sadness as you wallow in regret for—“

You were too busy looking down and feeling yourself shrink at his words to even notice Ace had pulled away from you.

And at a distance he stood, towering over your ex with pure hatred and anger burning in his eyes, with his fist in flames.

“Shut up. If you ever even look in [Name]’s direction again, I won’t hesitate to burn you to hell.”

Anger quickly subsided as Ace turns from the unconscious male and faces you with pure worry and concern.

“Hey, are you okay?”

All you could do was stare in shock, unable to process anything that happened as Ace takes your hands in his and brings it to his face.

“Don’t listen to a word he said, okay? Come on. Let’s go get some ice cream before heading back to the ship.”

-

Mihawk

“[Name]? What the hell are you doing here?”

The all too familiar voice makes your eyes widen out of its sockets, stopping you in your tracks from wandering the halls of Mariejois.

Turning back to face the one you least expected and absolutely dreaded most, color drained from your face when you finally came face to face to your ex.

“[Ex Name].. I didn’t realize you’re stationed here.. how are the other marines?” You try to make some light conversation but just wanted to eagerly run away.

The male only scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Better now that you’re gone, I’ll admit. Now why the hell are you here?”

“Actually..-“

“And why is that any of your business?”

Hearing the new voice cut in, your ex scoffs and turns to face the owner before his eyes widens.

“A warlord?! What are you doing out here? Whatever! Just get out of here, you pirate! This doesn’t concern you!”

Mihawk exhales quietly in disappointment, clearly becoming annoyed at the male’s loud and head-aching yells.

Making his way over to you, Mihawk gently grabs your hands in his. “Is this man bothering you, mi amor?”

Glancing to the shocked expression of your ex, you have a shy nod. “H-He’s my ex..” you mumble out, rubbing the back of your head as you grasp his hand tightly.

“I see.” Mihawk nods in understanding before closing his eyes and turned to face the marine, who was recovering from shock.

“Y-You?! Dating her?” He let out a dramatic scoff. “Of course you’d go after a pirate. It’s such a disappointment to see you stray from the Navy, [Name]. But whatever, you’re just— AGH!”

“That’s enough out of you now.”

Wielding his smallest sword, the mini cross that hung around his neck in a necklace, Mihawk gave one slice into the air before the loud cry of pain was heard.

Staring down at the fallen marine, he looks unimpressed at the lack of strength shown and how easily the marine fell from just a measly swing of his arm.

“Don’t you ever dare to utter a word or mind a thought about my [Name]. Otherwise I’ll have you buried six feet underground. Is that understood?”

Slipping his cross back together into his necklace, he turns over to your with his lips in a firm line but his expression softened in the slightest.

“Let’s go, my dear. We’re done here.”

Bringing his hand to the dip of your back, he began to guide you out of the large palace to head back to his castle and perhaps enjoy a nice evening together with some wine.

-

Zoro

Zoro may not be the smartest, but he certainly picks up on certain behavioral cues, especially yours after having been together for so long.

So when the Sunny is sailing the seas and come across another pirate ship, which causes Luffy to seek after them to converse and greet them.

At first, everything’s alright, the Pirates were somewhat friendly like the Straw Hats, until the Captain goes to board the Straw Hat ship, to personally greet each member.

But when the captain goes by you, his kind smile is immediately dropped to one of a frown of distaste. “[Name].”

You couldn’t even express how you felt. Shock? Misery? Pain? Disbelief? Were you usually this unlucky to have to come across your ex like this? How could you not recognize the Jolly Roger of the ship?

His next words seem to snap you back from your thoughts. “Blanking and zoning out once again. I see you haven’t changed much, [Name].” He tuts, shaking his head and turns away dramatically.

“It’s a shame you can never grow. Still the same old, same old. It’s truly a shame.”

Biting your lip, you look away and took a step back, ignoring him as the others watch with confusion.

“Eh? How do you know this guy, [Name]?” Nami asks, tilting her head.

Zoro, who was resting against the mast and listening to everything, opens his eye to glance at you. He clearly noticed your discomfort and pained expression, but withheld from doing anything.

His eyes only drifted to the cause of your discomfort.

The others weren’t too sure how to react, only sensing that something happened between the two of you. With the tension in the air, even Luffy could tell.

It wasn’t until his next words that something in them all snapped.

“Honestly, you’re better off having just stayed in your pathetic lonely life at your small island. This pirate life is not meant for you. After all,”

Eyes boring right into your soul, his stare pierced your body and his words pierced your heart.

“No one wants a pathetic and useless weakling around, right?”

Mere seconds later, the Captain, your ex, was knocked right into the railing of the ship, successfully denting the wood and breaking the pieces off with the amount of force brought into the impact.

Your ex was laying there, shifting in and out of consciousness and blood dripped from cuts over his body.

Zoro, with a hand gripping Shusui, was standing in front of the crew, no one even flinched at the movement but you. Your eyes were widened in shock, unable to say a word.

“I’ll have you know, [Name] is nothing like that. She’s grown, a hundred times stronger than you and I will make sure to kick your ass if I ever hear her name come out of your lips again.”

The other straw hats were all watching with heavy glares piercing the opposing pirate ship and specifically the Captain, each member getting ready to attack as needed.

“Get the hell off my ship, now.” Luffy demands, his voice cold, quiet and the most intimidating stare that would even make an Emperor tremble.

It didn’t take long for the opposing crew to pick up their captain and flee in a panic, especially when Luffy cracked his knuckles.

Releasing a small breath of relief you didn’t even know you were holding, you felt someone dragging you away from the deck and the crew, and you look up to find Zoro.

Finding that he was pulling you to the bedroom, he forces you over to the bed and then pulls you on top of him when he laid down.

“Just sleep with me. Forget everything he said and everything that happened.”

-

A/N : I hope you liked this, and I apologize you have to deal with that. So sorry this took so long.

I might allow emergency requests, it depends, I’ve never seen too much of it. I hope everything’s okay though.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.13

12/12/2020

The Honeymoon’s Not Over

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,309

Warnings: jealousy, slight angst, light smut, language, talks of pregnancy

A/N: I’m sorry these are taking longer. My grandparents are living with me for a few months and these are going to get a little slower now that they’re here. I hope you enjoy it! If you have a favorite part, let me know what it is! I’d love to hear. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other blogs or sites.

REBLOGS are always welcome!

Not knowing what to expect from a marriage to a veritable stranger is predictable. Of course, you’re not going to know what’s to come when you don’t know the man you’ve agreed to marry.

Apart from the responsibilities of the throne you’ve chosen to sit upon, and the obligations you have to provide the kingdom with an heir, the marriage you have chosen for yourself was entered into blindly.

You knew absolutely nothing about Thor when you agreed to marry him. You knew a little bit more by the time you stood directly opposite him and said your vows.

Now, after spending time with him in the company of his comrades, his friends, you know what Thor sounds like when he busts a gut. You see the twinkle in his one eye when they all sit around the living room reminiscing about battles won.

You see sadness over their losses, and the loyalty of his friendship. You see the weight they all carry on their shoulders to give this world its best chance against all forms of threat.

Most of all, you know how proud Thor is to have you by his side. At every moment possible, he’s pulled you into their games and conversations. He’s invited Tony to give you a tour of the compound and Bruce had tagged along and whispered to you smaller things that Tony conveniently left out because they weren’t things for him to boast about.

As the night went on, the Avengers told you their farewells and those that lived outside of the compound took their leave. They told you it was so nice to meet you, shook your hand—or hugged you as was the case with Wanda, Nat, and Steve—and then made you promise to stop by again and stay for longer than a day.

“We’ll make a real vacation of it, I assure you,” Thor promises Bucky who has taken a shine to you more enthusiastically than you thought he would.

Since you made your opinions on Loki clear, he’s been much more eager to speak with you and exchange ideas on more than just overlooking the troubled pasts of people desperate to make a change.

By one o’clock in the morning, Tony and Bruce are the only two left in the living room.

Bruce sits at the edge of the sofa, his glasses balanced at the end of his nose as he scrolls through large amounts of text and numbers on a sleek black tablet.

Tony has taken over the corner of the sectional, his phone pressed to his ear again as he yawns but resists sleep.

You hear him say Pepper’s name and a quick acknowledgement that he misses her when you decide that maybe it’s time to give them their privacy.

You rise slowly, Thor back in the main common room where you’d all eaten dinner, talking to Loki or Hilde on his own phone to keep up with what’s happening back home.

Bruce notices, not as invested in his reading as you’d thought.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed.” You admit, gesturing over your shoulder towards the other room.

“Oh, okay. Have a good night. I think Tony has breakfast set up for eight o’clock tomorrow morning so, the others will be back by then. I think?”

Bruce turns towards Tony who has his legs folded up on the seat, his hand combing through the back of his head as a sappy grin overtakes his face.

“Hey, breakfast at eight, right? Tomorrow morning?” Bruce asks, reaching over to place his hand on the seat of the sofa to attempt and get his attention.

“Hold on, Pep, there’s some weird old man trying to ask me something. I think if I ignore him long enough, he’ll leave me alone.” Tony mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear but muffled enough to make it clear that you’re not supposed to.

From the other end of the phone, you hear a clearly amused female voice speak back, “Be nice. He’s trying to be accommodating for Thor’s wife.”

He throws his hand back towards Bruce and waves his hand at him in clear dismissal.

Bruce sighs and gives you an apologetic smile, but you’re smiling from ear to ear.

“Sorry. Just to be safe, we’ll say eight o’clock.”

“Thanks, Bruce. For the tour and everything.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Bruce nods.

“Good night. Good night, Tony.” You call at him pointedly.

Tony makes a point to look back at you, fixing you with a buttery smile, “Goodnight, Cherub.”

You scoff, laughing a little, but give them a wave and move into the common room.

Thor’s back is tense, and it makes you worry.

Despite the conversation you’d overheard in the kitchen, you’re more confident now than before that Thor is devoted to you.

Because it’s in his touch. It’s in his gaze. It’s in the way he pulls you into his side when the others teased you about now being obligated to be an Avenger and the consequent terror that filled your eyes.

“A jest, my sweet.” Thor had whispered, then chuckled with the others.

He’d promised to tell you about this threat when the two of you were alone, but you’re so exhausted and as much as you want to go over and demand he fill you in now, you turn down the long hallway and pass two or three doorways before you reach the bedrooms.

The first door on the left is Thor’s and you slip in quietly, hoping not to interrupt Thor’s phone call.

It’s toasty warm inside. You peel off your clothes and despite wanting to just snuggle into bed, you make your way into the bathroom and the deep tub is long and wide enough for two people.

You flip on the shower instead, the water burning hot and as it glides down along your skin it summons goosebumps as the cold is chased away.

You hadn’t realized how chilly the compound is until now, and wonder if the Avengers are just hot natured. It would be weird for all of them to be like that, but if the ones with powers are like Thor, then maybe they all run a little hotter?

A tickle around your arms, just above your elbows, coaxes your eyes back open.

You hadn’t even realized you were falling asleep. Looking down you see two sets of large familiar fingers.

The hands they’re attached to turn you around and pull you close until Thor’s lips press down against yours, pushing you even further into peaceful bliss.

He opens his mouth wide, coaxing your own to respond as his tongue delves hungrily into your mouth.

You’re slow to respond, so tired but eager and pleased with the affection.

Thor’s knee nudges against the inner part of your thigh and you take a step, but he catches it as you do, and he lifts it up against his hip.

Water rains down along your naked bodies and Thor slides into you slowly.

You moan, low and sweet. Quiet and pleased but lazy.

“Thor…” You whimper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he dips down to nibble at your throat.

He pumps in and out so deliciously slow that the stretch of him pulls an orgasm from you quickly.

You’re so sensitive at the moment. You go limp in his arms, and he adjusts to support your body as you relax while he continues to push into you.

He rests your back against the shower wall, hips pulled against his as he fucks you slow. Watching him thrust into you, hips rolling slow, is perfection.

You caress the side of his face and he pulls back to look at you before he kisses you sweetly.

It all feels like a dream, and as he speeds up, you shut your eyes and you’re sent off with another wave of pleasure.

~~~~~~~~~~

The morning is toasty. Large warmth wrapped around you.

You twist where he holds you, straining to look at his face which you know like the back of your hand by now. No eyepatch, you reach up to trace the edges of his missing eye.

He croons and curls into your touch, the space gets red and itchy sometimes from wearing the patch all day.

This feeling, this soft glow in your chest, the way it aches and makes you feel like you could fly is something you didn’t know to expect from your marriage.

This iridescence, this shine that grows from your very center to entangle itself around you and Thor.

“Sleep longer,” Thor whispers, his voice deep and gravelly with sleep.

He pulls you closer, large hands splayed against your back as he rubs it several times up and down.

It almost does lure you back to sleep but you force your eyes open.

“We have to go down for breakfast. Everyone will be waiting.”

“Mmmmmm,” Thor protests.

No, he’s straight up whining. Tightening his hold, you groan as he squeezes. Any harder and he’ll crack your back.

“Thor,” You insist, and after a bit he opens his eye and peeks at your face before shutting it again.

“I do not appreciate early mornings when I am supposed to be enjoying uninterrupted time with my new wife.”

“You’re the one that brought us here!” The chuckle that slips through your lips is unintentional, but he’s so cute all pouty.

“It doesn’t matter,” He frowns, “I am King. Things should go my way.”

“Well, excuse me Your Majesty. Should I go tell the Avengers that they need to reschedule breakfast until you’re ready to wake up?”

“Yes,” When you start to move, he shoots up, tackling you to the bed and pinning your arms over your head as you laugh. “Wait, I don’t want you to leave the bed.”

“How the hell else am I supposed to go tell them then?”

“I suppose we can’t make them wait. I am so glad that we’ve still got a few days left to spend at your home. I want to make sure we go back to the palace with my child firmly planted in your womb.” He gushes and even though the words aren’t exactly dirty, it’s got your core throbbing and aching for more of what you think happened last night.

“Did we make love last night?” You really don’t know if it was just a dream or not.

It was all so sleepy, the memory like smoke. It could very well have been a wet dream.

“Don’t you remember?”

“Kinda. I was so tired.”

The amused curve of Thor’s lips give you the confirmation you need, “Yes, you were very tired. I had to catch you after your second climax. You fell asleep just as I also reached mine.”

“I don’t remember,” You confess, trying hard to remember what happened after your eyes shut.

You vaguely remember feeling supportive hands on the back of your head and back.

The soft mattress of his bed supporting you as he placed you on it?

“I’m not allowed to get drunk or to get really tired around you anymore. I hate not remembering my nights with you.”

He settles down on top of you, keeping his weight light and balanced on his side. His hands he brings down along your arms until he has his right cupping the left side of your head while his left hand finds its usual spot on your hip.

“I quite enjoy it when you can’t keep your eyes open. You sang for me on our wedding night.”

His reminder makes you groan and you turn away from him but he catches your lips in a kiss before you can turn away fully.

Thor gives you a good morning. A very good morning.

You both shuffle out into the common room where you’d had dinner last night with wide smiles, playful chuckling, and completely satisfied.

Both of you are so into what the other is saying or doing with their hands that you don’t really hear the murmur of conversation by the long table.

“When we get back, we should break in that bench in your backyard.” Thor whispers.

“Are you joking? That thing is gonna leave so many marks on my body. No way.”

“Come on, I’ll put a blanket, and you can be on top.” He presses his lips right up against your ear as he seduces you, but you’re stronger than that...maybe.

“Mmm, that’s really tempting there, Your Majesty,” you tease, reaching up to tug on his ear until he meets your lips in a quick peck.

It’s noisy and it smacks. So loud in fact, that you two finally notice the way the murmur of voices has disappeared and turned into silence.

Both of you stop, searching ahead for what might have caused the sudden death of conversation and at first don’t see anything.

Well, you don’t see anything.

“Good morning, everyone. What’s-is everything okay?” You ask, finding Steve’s face as he stands with his arms crossed across his chest, looking at you and Thor with his chin tucked in a bit.

He looks pensive and worried.

A quick look at Natasha and Wanda tells you that they’re worried for you for some reason. Both of them sitting at the edge of their seats.

Beside you, Thor has gone stiff.

“Thor?” You look at him, not sure why and search his face to see if there might be a clue but his eye is lasered in across the room and you follow his gaze.

You’re still not quite certain what he sees until movement on the furthest seat of the table draws your attention to a small brunette, with peachy skin, rosy cheeks, and bright brown eyes.

She’s so nervous that she’s almost clumsy, pushing her long hair over her shoulder, her lips quivering into a smile and then back into a straight line several times before they settle into a teeny uncertain curve of her lips.

Pink lips. Not chapped. Perfectly proportioned so that both lips are the exact same thickness.

“Jane…” Thor says, almost like it’s a realization.

“Oh,” Your voice is more timid than you expected it to come out if you ever came face to face with this woman. “That’s Jane.”

You’re suddenly really sad you never Googled her so that you’d at least have been prepared for the absolute petite beauty that she is.

Thor’s head whips towards you and he blinks, mouth opening as he searches for the words.

“I-we-er-I mean...This-this is my wife,” He introduces you breathlessly.

Clearly seeing her has caught him by as much surprise as you. Maybe more.

“Queen of Asgard,” he gives her your full name.

In Asgardian tradition, since Thor doesn’t technically have a last name in the traditional sense like humans do, you’ve kept your own.

“Right,” Jane shuts her eyes, claps her hands gently then nods slowly. “Right, of course. You’re King now! RIght. Your Majesties.”

Her greeting is simple and she even gives a quick somewhat off balance curtsy, probably from her nerves.

“Oh, that’s-”

Thor takes your hand, pulling you just a smidge more into his side, cutting off your protest to her curtsy.

“Thank you for that,” Thor tells her, nodding once. “None of these rascals bothered to bow to my new Queen.”

There’s something odd about Thor’s voice that you’ve never heard before. An anger. Subdued rage. Surprise too. His own sprinkle of nerves thrown in there as well.

You steal a glance up at his face and find a tightness around his eyes as he then drops your hand to slip it around your shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” He asks her, and the Avengers take this as their cue to rise from their spots and move into the living room or the kitchen.

Jane comes around the table, stopping a few feet away from the two of you.

Their eyes are locked on each other, her pretty browns and Thor’s one electric blue.

The silence, though it lasts only a quick three seconds, is endless. Instantly you’re an intruder and you spot Bruce peeking from the kitchen. He makes eye contact with you and there’s a beckoning from him, a promise of safety and sanctuary in this super fucked situation you find yourself in and you pull out from Thor’s arm and nearly scamper into the kitchen but a large hand wraps around your wrist gently, pulling to stop you from moving.

“Where are you going?” Thor’s face has softened, all tension leaving his beautiful face as he steps towards you to close the distance between your bodies.

It’s still respectful, a good two feet between you as opposed to the narrow six inches he’s kept you in all week.

Something tells you that he’s also keeping you at arms’ length because Jane is right there and it’s only been at most, two weeks since he ended things with her.

“I was going to give you two some space.” You whisper, though Jane is literally right there, so she can hear you.

“Oh, you don’t have to-” She starts, but Thor cuts her off, almost as if he can’t hear her.

“You do not have to give us space, cherub. You are right where you should be, at my side.” Thor doesn’t bother to whisper, but it’s clear in the volume of his voice that his words are meant only for you.

“It feels weird…” You whisper more quietly that it makes Thor move closer and lean his head down.

“It shouldn’t,” He reaches up to stroke your cheek, and you can’t help but peek at Jane.

She’s watching the two of you, her eyes darting away and back and away again, a fleeting look of confusion on her pretty face.

You reach around Thor’s side and give his side a little pinch to bring his attention back to Jane.

“She’s waiting,” you inform him, and flick your head in her direction before turning to face her again, planting yourself beside Thor just as he wants.

“Right,” Thor agrees, then wraps his arm right back around your shoulders. “What brings you to the compound, Jane? I can’t imagine anything would get you out of the desert with what you showed me last time I was there.”

Your heart gives an upsetting lurch at the reminder to Thor’s and Tony’s conversation last night, but you simply lean into Thor’s side some more, pushing down your insecurities for now.

“Yeah, um...I was in the lab when a weird energy spike completely threw off my sensors. It fried my stabilizer. So, I checked with NASA and UNOOSA, CNSA, SUPARCO, and a whole bunch of other contacts at various space agencies around the world and all of them also had similar readings. Not as strong, but they all swear that they don’t have anything in orbit or out in that quadrant. Given the strength of the surge, I contacted Tony to let him know so that he could get word to you but then he told me that you’d be here this week for a day, so I...I decided to stop by and tell you myself.”

She smiles, just a quick awkward little thing, at you and then at Thor.

Thor’s mind processes what she just told him as quickly as it can while you steal a glance at the kitchen again where Tony is peeking out this time.

“To be fair, I didn’t know you were going to be so nice.” He tells you, unapologetic that his words will reach all ears in all three rooms.

He quickly ducks out when you frown at him, leaving Bruce peeking out behind him who then panics and also pulls himself back out of sight.

What you can infer from his words is that he’d invited her to come when he’d known that you and Thor would be on your honeymoon in an attempt to get them back together?

As you look back to Jane who stands there staring at Thor with those stupid big brown eyes, you wonder if she knew Tony’s plans and that’s why she’s here.

“What’s the trajectory of the energy you found? What’s it heading towards?” Thor wonders, taking a half step forward, dropping his arm from your shoulders.

Your mind goes into a sudden frenzy as you, like him, put two and two together quickly.

“The threat?” You guess, stepping away from him but also moving around so that you can look at him and speak a little more face-to-face with him and Jane too.

You’d completely forgotten about the damn threat! You’d been so seduced and tired last night that you passed out. Then Thor woke you up so sweetly with more seduction that you’ve put the secret threat Thor has been trying to hide from you out of your mind.

His furrowed brow, large biceps bulging as he crosses his arms across his chest, betray his guilt at having kept it from you. But the two of you know that you have no time to dwell on petty arguments, so you table the argument you’d planned on having last night for another time.

“Could that be it?” You push, looking to Jane who looks a little confused by the tension in both your and Thor’s bodies.

“It might be.”

“What threat?” Jane wonders.

“What’s the matter, Cherub? What’s got you all worried?” Tony shuffles over, probably having heard the bit about the threat.

You give him a quick glance before you look at Jane, “What kind of energy reading was it? Cosmic? Solar? Celestial?”

All of the Avengers who had begun to make their way back into the common room for breakfast along with Thor, Tony, and Jane stop to look at you, several of them with mouths open and in complete surprise.

The silence is deafening, pressing in on you from every direction. Thor takes a step towards you and seems to be the only one unphased by your question.

“I don’t know that Jane would be able to determine the type of energy at this distance.” And yet, he turns to look at her once he’s spoken. “Jane?”

She blinks, still completely in shock by your knowledge, “Uh, I might be able to find a way to determine...how do you know about-?”

“As soon as Thor formally asked me to marry him I started to make a list of things that would probably be good to know in my position. Loki helped me um…” Wait, shoot...maybe you shouldn’t be so open with them?

“The weird sister helped you what?” Tony asks, casual disdain in his voice for the younger Asgardian prince.

You frown at him.

“Nevermind.” You cross your arms across your chest and sit down on the seat right behind you.

“He didn’t mean that, cherub.” Thor cuts in, moving towards you he pulls the seat beside you out to sit down, facing you. “Isn’t that right, Stark?”

“No.” You frown, really not liking the way some of them seem to really hate Loki.

Part of you knows that you can’t blame them. Loki did a lot of bad the last time he was here for an extended period of time.

He killed a lot of people and wreaked havoc on New York. They have every right to be angry at him. Even though you know this, you can’t find yourself letting them get away with their open hatred for him in front of you.

Thor looks at Tony with a pleading, his large hands on your knees as he strokes your legs softly to try and soothe you.

You see Tony roll his eyes from the corner of your own and with a silent exasperated sigh, he throws his hands out in front of him to physically push away his words.

“Alright, you’re right. I’m sorry. He’s made amends, right? He’s spent the time since he came back doing right by those people that he hurt. You’re right.” The longer Tony speaks, the more it looks like it physically hurts him to say sorry.

“Wait, you actually like Loki?” Jane asks, her smile in slight disbelief.

“Didn’t he save your life before?” You throw at her, having heard all about her infection by the Aether and how she’d helped Thor save many worlds.

It’s intimidating and not a story you’d easily forget.

At the time, you’d wondered how you’re ever going to compare to that. She’s helped Thor save Earth twice. What can you do?

Your words have the desired effect, and she quickly deflates as you meet Thor’s eye and sigh slowly.

“They don’t mean anything by it, cherub,” Thor promises, his voice soft and gentle and soothing.

You see the way Jane’s head twists in your direction at his pet name for you but he reaches up to take hold of your chin and turn your face towards his.

“Loki is lucky to have your loyalty.” He praises, looking genuinely happy about it too, but the smile leaves quickly in favor of his curiosity. “But how did you learn about different types of energy?”

“Loki hacked into the S.H.I.E.L.D. mainframe when I told him that I wasn’t sure that I was up for the task of being Queen and wife of an Avenger since I knew almost nothing about anything. I-I did a lot of reading.” You admit, heart in arrest as you gauge everyone’s reaction to Loki’s deceit. “But he only did it because I was crying and really worried and I was almost having a straight up panic attack, and he wanted to help so he offered me a place to learn and I couldn’t-I didn’t have it in me to say no even when he told me how he was going to get me the info so if you’re going to blame anyone, blame me because I was feeling so inadequate and he was just trying to make me feel better.”

Once again, the room is left in silence, save for Thor who smiles at you and reaches around to grab the back of your neck and give it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s alright. We’re not angry. Any of us, right?” As he looks around at everyone, they all nod quickly, giving you reassuring smiles save for Tony who has his arms crossed over his chest now, hand covering his mouth as he shakes with silent laughter.

“You’re angry?” You ask him, and he startles slightly when he realizes you’re talking to him.

“Me? Oh, no. No, I’m not. I just can’t wait to tell Fury that Loki hacked into his servers.” Tony bursts into laughter and has to turn away from all of you and move back into the kitchen to get a hold of himself.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat, reaching down to take hold of Thor’s hand, “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me, love. Never.” He smiles at you, then pulls you down to kiss your forehead before rising and moving to stand behind you. “Can you get to work on detecting the type of energy it was that destroyed your instruments?”

Jane straightens up out of her slouched pouting as she realizes that he’s talking to her, “Yes. I can. That’s kind of why I came here, to get some help from Bruce. It could also be gamma, so I wanted to consult with him before I made any decisions.”

Bruce lumbers forward between Nat and Bucky, waving Jane over, “We can go now? I don’t exactly have an appetite at the moment. If you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Jane shakes her head and moves for him as he turns to lead the way.

Before she can get too far, she stops and turns to look at you and Thor as he moves back to take his seat next to you, your hands pulled up to his lips.

“Uh, congrats again, both of you,” With a firm nod, she turns and leaves you all to your breakfast.

~~~~~~~~~~

“We don’t have to cut our honeymoon short?”

“Definitely not.” Thor frowns, “I would quit my job as King of Asgard if we had to end our private time.”

You smile, despite the pit in your stomach, “You can’t quit, silly.”

“I can. Loki would be more than happy to take over.”

“Well, I won’t let you quit. You’re an amazing King.”

“You’re my wife. You are clearly biased in my favor. I can’t believe a word you say.”

You chuckle at his playful banter, but after a few seconds, your worry for the people of your kingdom takes over.

“But really, Thor. If the threat coming is the same thing that destroyed Jane’s equipment, shouldn’t we go home and, I don’t know, deal with it?”

Thor breathes in deep, considering your words as he finishes pulling off his armor, tossing the last piece onto his red cape leaving him in a plain dark shirt and pants.

In a clear attempt to distract you, he rolls up the sleeves to his elbows, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a distraction.

Mmmph!

“I already have Sif and Hilde working on it. Loki is managing things with the palace, beefing up security for when we get there and until Tony and Bruce can come and make their own modifications.”

“Then we can enjoy our last four days?”

“Enjoy them?!” Thor moves to you, slipping his hand down around the waist of your skirt where it intertwines with the lower piece and with a firm tug, he rips through the fabric leaving only the bodice.

You gasp, hand pressed to your chest as you laugh in surprise.

“I’m going to impregnate you in the next four days if it’s the last thing I do.”

Oh my.

“No, turn around for me cherub, so I can finish ripping this dress off of you.” He coaxes you around and leans down to press a kiss to your back, then rips down the back of your bodice with more firm tugs that shake your body.

His lips trail open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, hands gripping the flesh of your thighs with a possessive squeeze.

Despite your worries, it doesn’t seem like seeing Jane has affected his desire for you in any way. Somehow you’d never believed his devotion to you, until now.

With meeting Jane now that you’re married out of the way, and Thor’s cock still solid as he rutts into you from behind as he strips you, you feel a lot more secure in the emotions and passion you’re able to summon from him.

Almost like he knows you need it, “Tell me you love me, cherub.”

How can he doubt it?

“I love you, puppy.” It just slips out and Thor freezes.

You panic, turning to look at him because you hadn’t meant to say it, and it was something you’d just been calling him in your head in secret because of that look he gives you when he’s begging you to give in for whatever he wants in the moment.

“I’m-” He cuts you off, smashing his mouth down onto you, open wide as he delves into you, tasting you, tongue searching and coaxing.

“Mmmph,” You whimper, wrapping your arms around him to grip the back of his shirt tight.

He suddenly tosses you back onto your bed, pulling his shirt over his head and then shoving his pants down before he grabs your ankles and pulls you towards the edge. With wide splayed out hands he pushes your thighs open and settles between them, two fingers run up along your slick slit making you quiver.

“Tell me again,” he orders, voice so deep you feel it in your toes.

“I love you, pu-AH!”

[angelthebedsheet]

Can you do a zuko x male reader or gender neutral. It could be about the reader witnessing the agni Kai and watching zuko get banished. The reader tries to go with zuko but zuko doesn’t want the reader to get hurt. Years later they meet at the boiling rock. You can take it from there. I love your writings and I’ll keep supporting you 💕

a/n: oooooh! thank you anonnie!! i appreciate your requests!!!

lets get it!

okay so you and zuko were TURTLEDUCK BUDDIES

attached to the hip basically

azula HATED how close you two were bc hello she’s right here???

i mean you and zuko trained together

fed ducks together

best buds

you knew you liked zuko alot but you didn’t understand?

like you started to get flustered around him

same with zuko

and azula was PLOTTING NOW

she doing a think rn with one of her BRILLIANT ideas 😐

“oh n/n! zuzu! come play a game with us!”

zuko’s flight or fight reflexes are triggered and he’s ready to DIP

but you r unfortunately intrigued

“oh okay ‘zula! cmon zu!”

cue azula’s smug lil grin

she puts an apple on your head and makes you stand in front of the fountain

you’re like ???? is this the game?

azula’s like it is n/n it’ll be fine

it was NOT fine

she damn near burnt you to a crisp if it wasnt for zuko tackling you into the fountain

now azula, ty lee and mai are LAUGHIN

but we all know mai lwk a lil jelly

you and zuko are embarrassed as fuck

you both are soaked and he’s hovering over you

mr zuzu looking real pretty

he just turns red and pulls you up before running away

zuko is like ???? boys are cute especially this one???

you two still remained close after this incident

two lil gays boys who are trying to not crush on e/o

(im sorry the only thing i can think about when i think of zuko is his gay ass lil scream in the prototype pilot episode)

(nigga said wwAHHH)

anyways

azula teased you about zuko speaking out against a general and their dad is angry and you’re like oh shit

suddenly you arent allowed to visit zuko anymore

and you’re like wtf no no let me in

the guards said no

you’re so paranoid too

is he okay?

what fully happened?

soon the agni kai is announced to happen

and you are seated next to iroh and azula

you’re clutching onto your pants as you watch zuko walk into the arena

you really dont want him to get hurt

your eyes widened as you watched zuko’s father walk into the arena and your heart drops

zuko is clearly surprised and frightened

tears are rolling down your cheeks bc you are so so so scared for him

iroh covers your eyes as he looks away when zuko got burned and you could feel your heart break as you listened to his cries of pain

you cried out as iroh pulled you into a hug

you and iroh immediately rushed to the infirmary to get to zuko

you push past those guards and nurses bc you are on a MISSION

aint nobody getting in your way like this bc you will STOMP they asses out

you are not leaving his side

“z-zu are you okay? can you hear me?”

“m-m/n? where are you? i cant see”

zuko is starting to panic due to the fact his left eye is patched close

you hold his hand “i’m right here zu. shh im here”

he’s so overwhelmed too poor baby

“u-uncle? w-where is he?”

“right here zuko.”

you help him sit up and he grabs a mirror immediately

he frowns at his reflection

“you’re still handsome zuko.” you said

iroh pretended to not see that blush that sat on zuko’s cheeks

“i-i’ve been banished, m/n.”

“what?”

“i’m banished from here. the only way i can come back is if i capture the avatar.”

“but he’s been gone for years zuko! let me come with you”

“no! it’ll be too dangerous”

“how? we trained together! grew up together? how is it too dangerous?”

“no m/n! i dont want to lose you!”

“you wont lose me zuko.”

“you dont know that. you arent coming with me.”

you and him went back and forth

after he shaved his hair and was about to board his boat you pulled him away

then you confessed right then and there

i mean you didnt know when you’ll see him again

“i like you zuko. more than a friend”

“what?”

“i like you.”

“are you for real? this isnt a joke right? like azula didn’t put you up to this?”

“no she didnt.”

“oh thank the spirits. i like you too.”

and yall have this lil awkward ass kiss

just a short lil peck?

i mean yall are 12/13 and two boys you think they gonna go all out tonguing niggas? lmao

you two hug before iroh calls him over

“i’ll wait for you zuko”

“i’ll try my best.”

and he’s gone

over the years zuko was gone he was so sad

“if i capture the avatar i can come back to the fire nation and m/n”

but clearly the whole LeMmE cAtCh tHe AvAtAr thing was dropped when he got that glow up

(neya said 🦋🦋🦋🦋 whenever they look at zuko cmon NOW.)

now they’re otw to boiling rock

“my first girlfriend turned into the moon.”

“that’s rough buddy.”

and sokka’s like you ever dated someone before?

zuko’s like..... two people?

“that knife throwing girl?”

“her and m/n. though we never got to date bc at the time i was literally banished. i miss him alot though.”

bi king ✨

“what if he’s at the boiling rock?”

“then i’ll find him.”

sokka’s like yes my man get your MANS

“okay so we look for my dad, suki and your husband”

“he’s not my husband sokka.”

“..... my dad, suki and your husband”

“omfg shut your trap.”

these pair of himbos finally get inside and are on a MISSION

sokka’s like heheheeh suki time

KAJDJAJDJJSKDJF

zuko’s hopeful that you’re here or at least alive

after sokka and suki have their lil reunion zuko wanders off and asks around

“do you have a prisoner by the name of m/n?”

“why do you ask, newbie?”

“uhhh the warden sent me to him.”

“oh. there.” pointing to a door

zuko has to CONTAIN the excitement and nods before speed walking off

he throws open that door so quickly

you on the other hand is ready to rumble “i TOLD YOU I DONT FUCKING HAVE IT”

zuko just closes the door behind him and takes off his helmet

you’re like hol up wait wait zuko????

and he nods with a big ol grin on his face

you just hug him so fucking tight

maybe there were some tears shed

you pick him up and twirl him around

zuko’s like holy SHIT

and you pull back to just look at him

“you’re still as handsome as i remember you, zu.”

“so are you, n/n...”

he’s just so awestruck

the person he has been looking forward to seeing for 3/4 years is right infront of him

yall just kiss

sokka now gotta pull a zuko and bang on that door

“yALL DOING THINGS IN THERE??? HURRY UP”

“shut UP sokka”

zuko puts his helmet back on and grabs your hand

yall finally dip and are otw tf outta there

“oh shit zuko he’s cute”

“back off”

“im happy with suki relax sir”

zuko is clingy and was hugging you the whole time

not that you minded bc you missed him dearly

when yall got back and he introduces you

the group minus toph is like “ZUKO’S GAY????”

toph is like “I FUCKING CALLED IT”

alls well

except for the fact zuko wouldnt let you go anywhere by yourself

[tonystarktogo]

Last part of the time travel crack ‘verse for now (and sorry for making you all worry about the scepter, I didn’t mean it that way, it just seemed like a good cut-off point tbh):

"The scepter! Did anyone keep an eye on the scepter?"

"I assure you," Agent Agent, who looks a little singed and has a bandage wrapped around one ear, yet continues to rock the personality-free drawl that tricks people into thinking he’s not worth paying attention to, speaks up, "that the scepter is still safely in SHIELD custody, Dr. Banner."

Banner scoffs.

Rogers grimaces.

Barton winces.

And oh, all other issues aside, the vindication of this moment is glorious. Tony feels fully justified in the doubtful look he aims at the screen. You know your show sucks balls when even your own operative doesn’t buy what you’re selling.

"That’s great," Banner says in a painfully droll voice. "But I’ll feel a lot better when we hand it over to our resident Asgardian prince for safekeeping rather than put it into a secret high-security facility and hope for the best. Like the one you stored the Tesseract in took Loki what, five minutes to take over?"

Woah, talk about burn. Tony doesn’t bother muffling his snicker. Who’d have thought Banner has it in him?

[continues under the cut]

"Hang on, wouldn’t it be better—" Rogers interrupts before Fury or Coulson can come up with an excuse, which judging by their sour-slash-carefully-blank expressions isn’t as easy as they’d like it to be.

Banner raises one hand. It shouldn’t be a power move on part with his green counterpart squashing a car in his fist, isn’t even particularly aggressive but for some reason Rogers shuts up. Immediately. The bright, eerily green eyes might have something to do with it. 

"If you’re going where I think you’re going, I advise you to reconsider," Banner growls, the vocals deep enough that Romanoff reaches for the nearest weapon. "Even setting my personal issues aside, it’s not worth the risk."

Barton sighs with what sounds less like exhaustion and more like sad resignation. "Hate to say it, Cap, but he’s right. Sending the scepter off-Earth with the Tesseract is probably the safest course of action we can take right now. We can’t count on being that lucky again."

"Agent Barton," Agent Agent’s words drip with such a pointedly polite friendliness, it’s a wonder he doesn’t spear his own tongue on it. "Please desist in trying to hand off objects that pose an immediate threat to global security to an unvetted alien who, while a valued ally, is in line for the throne of a foreign world."

And wow. Tony’s not gonna win a prize for his sensitivity any time soon, but there’s some things you just don’t say to a guy who got brainwashed into doing an alien’s bidding less than forty-eight hours ago. Going by the way Romanoff has gone rigid, she agrees.

Luckily for everyone present, Barton doesn’t bat an eye at the dig. He leans forward instead, elbows placed on his tights, the picture of relaxation. As long as you ignore the expression on his face that could possibly pass for a smile. If you catch sight of it out of the corner of your eye. Through a dirty mirror. 

"Not that I’m not glad to see you alive and well, Phil, because I am. But getting my head rolled once was already one time too many and if the Tesseract is powerful enough to draw fucking aliens to it then it’s too fucking powerful for us to protect." Barton’s voice becomes progressively lower as he continues his little not-having-any-of-your-shit rant. "More people are gonna get killed over that thing. Good people. Because we don’t have the damn resources to keep it safe. So if we gotta bet on Asgard for this, then that’s what we’re gonna fucking do because to be frank with you sir I’d rather lead the hostile aliens to a world ready for interstellar warfare than my own."

Thor straightens from where he’s been fixated on Loki for the past hour or so, trying to crawl into his brother’s skull through willpower alone by the looks of it, and dips his head in Barton’s direction. "Thank you for your faith," he says gravely, as though Barton hasn’t straight up told everyone in this room he wants to use Asgard as a shield-slash-sacrificial-offering. "I hope my people will prove worthy of it."

"Should be fine." Banner shrugs with a nonchalance Tony envies. "’s long as we take care of your murderous sibling first."

Thor winces. Loki’s face loses whatever expressiveness it had left and it already was at state zero: emotions not welcome here to begin with. 

But. Tony tilts his head. Why not just call Loki by his name? Unless, of course, Banner isn’t referring to him. But how would the infamous Hulk-slash-brilliant-scientist have gotten himself wrapped up in alien family drama? And is there a form Tony can sign? Because he hates being kept out of the loop.

"Avengers!" Fury snaps before things can get any more awkward. Which, good for him, but in Tony’s fine opinion he should have taken the win and be done with it. There’s just no winning against whatever type of madness — not to mention feelings — these people are so inconsiderately spreading inside his walls. "You’re not bartering off our best chance to defend ourselves against alien invaders, have I made myself clear? That’s an order."

Rogers scoffs at the screen and damn it, Tony’s determined not to like the guy but the way he just smirks humorlessly as he stares Fury down, all aww shucks did you want the pretty, glowy thing too and well too damn bad for you makes it hard. Especially when Rogers goes that little extra mile and asks with a plain as day air of who fucking cares: "Whatever gave you the impression that this is a negotiation, Director Fury?"

It’s just too great a line to resist and Tony is only human. He makes a sharp gesture with his hand and JARVIS disconnects the call before they witness Fury pop a blood vessel. Let that be Agent’s problem for the time being.

"So," Tony states after a moment. "Besides all but declaring war on SHIELD, the organization two people in this room are officially employed by, for the record, and dealing with Reindeer Games over there, what’s the plan?"

Nervous shuffling. Awkward grins. Badly-hidden glances going back and forth. 

Perhaps most notably, nobody protests the declaring-war-on-SHIELD part. Tony would ask but frankly he’s still on his first glass of scotch — meaning way too fucking sober for whatever madness the answer to that question will undoubtedly raise. It’s a sad, sad day in the history of mankind when Tony is the voice of reason in a room filled with one-person-armies.

"What about Shawarma?" Rogers, apparently the most uncomfortable with the pressing silence, blurts out.

Tony gives that pitiful attempt to change the subject the nice try, have to admit I didn’t see that coming but you’re gonna have to give me more than that look it deserves. As it turns out though, he may have been overestimating his present company’s average ability to read a room.

"I could go for a bite," Barton pipes up, earning himself a soul-shriveling, dead-eyed, where the fuck did I go wrong with you and how have I not killed you yet stare, courtesy of Romanoff that he brushes off with admirable ease. Still not moving an inch away from her either and if Tony’s noticed the way her hand’s been edging ever closer to the knife strapped to her calf, there’s no way Barton hasn’t.

"Sounds good," Banner chimes in with a twisted amusement that makes Tony want to scratch his eyes out. "I know just to the place."

*

They do eat Shawarma together. [All of them, even Loki, because Thor insists his brother is far too thin. Considering Barton doesn’t protest and the only person Loki tries to stab with his salad fork is Thor himself, nobody comments on it.]

As if to add insult to a very long list of injuries that Tony is dying to poke and prod at, the food tastes delicious.

*

Okay so the whole antagonizing SHIELD thing wasn’t planned, but I figured in this AU there was no drawn out battle and no bomb and so there was no ‘thank fuck we’re even alive right now’ relief to take the edge of. Instead everyone is pissed off and frustrated (if for very different reasons) and not outright attacking the helicarrier right now is about all the diplomacy Steve has the patience for at this point.

[pinkliquorstyles]

drunk voicemails and confessions.

Warnings: Smut and a whole lotta angst.

A/n: Buckle up, it’s a big one. 

---------

You have one new voice message at: 3:37am. From: Unknown caller.

Harry’s cheerful yet slurred voice rang through the phone, “Y/n! It’s me! Harry. I just called to tell you I missed you at the listening party today.” He hiccuped lightly before continuing, “I think you were with that guy...” his voice faltered for a moment “What was his name? John? Don? Oh, no, it’s Dom, isn’t it? Mitch s’telling me, it’s Dominic.”

“I hope you had a fun night, although I wish we could’ve talked... ‘miss hearing your voice.” He paused, seeming to ponder over his thoughts.

Harry quickly pepped up. “Oh well, s’ok maybe next time then. I should probably go, m’not sure how much time I got left on this thing. Anyways, I love you princess-“ The message abruptly cut itself off.

“To delete; press 3. To save the message-“

“Message deleted.”

Eight months.

That’s how long it had been since Y/n last heard from Harry. But tonight that record was broken with something as small as just a drunk voicemail.

Harry couldn’t help himself, as soon as he saw Y/n’s familiar figure at his own listening party, he fell back into the infatuation that he spent months attempting to escape from.

He may have had his heart broken, but everyone deserves a second chance... right?

-------

It had been a few days since the voicemail.

Y/n attempted to avoid it. Erase it from her phone. Read his apology text over and over until it got through her head that he didn’t actually mean it.

Whatever she could do to forget, she tried it.

Yet it still was in the back of her mind, it was like an annoying itch that she couldn’t scratch.

His voice reverberated in her head, especially those three little words. The three little words she never thought she’d hear, “I love you.” Even now, as she stared at the apartment ceiling with her boyfriend that lay quietly next to her. 

Despite the sound of the small breaths that escaped Dominic’s lips as he remained in a deep sleep, Y/n could only hear Harry’s slurred voice replaying over and over.

She felt restless, tossing and turning most of the night. With an annoyed sigh sat up slightly, her back pressed to the headboard as her head lazily rolled against it. She rubbed the back of her neck before allowing her fingers to slowly graze her skin. She didn’t intend for it to be sensual at first, but she couldn’t deny how pleasurable her soft touch felt against her chest.

And besides, perhaps it could help her fall asleep.

Y/n slowly moved down towards the band of her panties, torturously teasing herself before finally letting her fingers dip under the lace material. But she couldn’t help notice her mind float somewhere else, or perhaps, with somebody else as she tauntingly grazed her heat. 

It was him, of course it was him. It was his hands taunting her body. It was his lips roughly tugging at her own and it was his name that teased the tip of her tongue, threatening to escape.

She felt her pulse quicken, dirty fantasies filling her mind as her fingers sped up, dancing in circles around her sweet spot. She covered her mouth with her other hand as she dared not to make a sound and risk waking Dominic up. It didn’t take long before her back began to arch and her head pressed back against the pillow, pleasure quickly sweeping over her body. 

“Y/n?” The small murmur was enough to break her from her trance-like state, almost as if a piece of glass shattered right in front of her. With a shallow breath, she sunk down into the sheets, facing the man that slept next to her. “I’m right here baby.” She assured.

The word hesitantly rolled off her tongue. It seemed like everything she said reminded her of Harry. It was overwhelming. She thought Harry was gone for good, that she was finally over him and that he would merely be a distant memory.

And if it wasn’t for that voicemail, maybe he would’ve been just that. A distant memory.

Y/n observed Dominic as he slept. Their relationship; if you can even call it that, was nothing like her last. Although Harry preferred to keep his vulnerability locked away, Y/n always knew he was a romantic at heart. It was one reason she felt so smitten around him, Harry would always make her feel special, like she was the only girl in the world.

Once Y/n could tell Dominic finally fell back into a deep sleep. She softly climbed out of the bed, careful to not rustle the blankets too much to avoid waking him up again.

Although she had her own apartment, she preferred to stay with Dominic. Well, he preferred for her to stay with him. She didn’t understand why, but he seemed to be attached to Y/n’s hip, never wanting to leave her side.

Not that she minded, she enjoyed the company... enjoyed the distraction.

They both decided that Y/n would be better off just moving her belongings to his apartment, saving her the trip of constantly bringing a bag of her stuff every time she stayed the night.

She tiptoed over to the stack of drawers in the corner of the room, quietly rummaging through them to hopefully stumble upon some lavender scent that she used to help her sleep. But instead, she found something else, something a little more meaningful.

At first, she scoffed at the sight of it, thinking the universe was playing one big joke on her. But her gaze soon changed to one of admiration towards the object.

--------

“Definitely not a happily ever after in that one but still, a beautiful piece of writing.” The unfamiliar figure spoke, his tone playful as he made himself at home by taking the free seat across from Y/n.

Y/n’s expression ignited with curiosity as she looked up. The golden glow from the yellow-tinted lights hanging from the ceiling provided a dim cast on the man in front of her, highlighting his features and the low shine of the messy brown curls falling onto his face.

A small smile teased at Y/n’s lips. “Maybe so, but then again I haven’t quite finished it so I can’t really comment on the ending just yet.” She said, folding the edge of the page before closing the book, placing it onto the rustic bar’s table.

“Seen the movie?” He asked with a surprised expression.

She mouthed a small no, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips at the mysterious man’s reaction “But seeing as you seem to believe it doesn’t have a good ending, I may have to keep it aside for a later date.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “What? You can’t read sad books?”

Y/n pondered his words for a small moment. “Well, I just prefer novels or films with a more... happier ending to them.”

He lightly shook his head with an amused smile as he took a small swig of the drink in front of him, the rings wrapped around his fingers shining brighter than before as they reflected under the lighting, before placing the glass down with a small thud.

“Don’t you think that’s unrealistic though? Isn’t life meant to have its trials and tribulations.”

Y/n shrugged lightly, “Yes, life is supposed to have its difficulties but this-“ Picking up the book, She lightly waved it around in her hands before passing it to the still no-named figure.

“This is a story, a simple means to escape those supposed ‘trials and tribulations’ as you so call them.” She mocked in a failed attempt to match his accent.

“Don’t you find that boring though, the same story over and over again, no surprises, no suspense?”

She sighed, “In a perfect world there would be no suspense, not a single problem or worried thought.”

“In a perfect world yes, but that, we aren’t love.” He states with conviction.

Y/n scoffed, shaking her head playfully. “You sure are the life of the party aren’t you.” She admired quietly and watched as he flipped mindlessly through the pages of her book, her gaze falling on the loose curl that fell from his disheveled hair as she fought the feeling to push it back into place.

He quickly closed the book, causing Y/n to break from her sudden daze “I’m just realistic. And these little happily ever afters you desire are far from it.”

She coughed lightly, regaining her composure. “Well, I definitely wouldn’t want to be with someone like you.” Y/n’s quick response caused his eyebrows to raise in surprise, almost as if he was hurt by the passing comment.

“You know, glass half empty and all.” She added just as fast, attempting to recover from her less than favorable quip.

Luckily for Y/n, he took it as a challenge.

“Well personally, I like to think I’m quite the romantic myself. In fact, I’m probably far better than the saps you read about.” He remarked.

“I’m sure you are.” A small chuckle escaped her lips at the sound of his frivolous tone.

“I am so, and I’ll even prove it to you.” He grinned, already confident.

Her eyes glimmered with excitement as she took ahold of her own drink that had been sitting at the edge of the booth “As intriguing as that is, I don’t even know your name.”

His lip quirked up into a small smirk, his gaze falling onto the plastic rose placed in the middle of their table, it was practically falling out of the tiny box it reside in, and whilst it was used for the decor of the bar, he decided to use it to his advantage.

“Harry.” He said simply, before offering the flimsy flower to Y/n.

“Y/n.” She responded with a laugh, accepting the rose. “Well go on then, give it your best shot.”

--------

A ghost of a smile teased her lips as her fingers traced the detailing of the hard-covered book. She told herself she would throw this away ages ago, along with other small objects that reminded her of Harry, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It meant too much to her.

She took the book in her hands, flipping through the slightly damaged pages as she reminisced.

But her reminiscing was soon cut short as she felt a pair of heavy hands grip her waist from behind, her body erupting in goosebumps while a low voice spoke close to her ear. “What are you doing up this late?”

Her body quickly froze at the sudden weight pressed up against her. As realization struck, the quick rush of shock left her system. She placed on top of the set of drawers “I couldn’t sleep, sorry if I woke you.” She spoke, her voice was seemingly fragile.

“Late night reading hm? What is it this time, those little romance books you love to read?” He hummed teasingly. “Or maybe it’s a little dirtier than the average love story, I always knew you were a little minx.”

“You caught me.” She said breathlessly. Her eyes fluttered closed as he peppered wet kisses across her exposed shoulder, all the way up to her neck while softly tugging at the tortured skin as soft little moans escaped her.

He let out a taunting chuckle. “You should’ve told me how badly you needed to get off, you know I’m always happy to help.” He turned her around, gently pinning her against the wall whilst allowing his other hand to teasingly graze against her body.

She didn’t notice it at first; she was doing it again. Thinking of him, thinking of Harry when she should be fantasizing about the man right in front of her.

And with each demanding kiss that reached her lips, a wave of pleasure coursed through her. But with that, another wave of guilt, as if they both came hand in hand with one another.

It was a whirlwind of lust and shame. How could she let Harry get to her head like this? And more importantly why is she feeling this way in the first place? Y/n was confident that she was over him, especially after she found Dominic, he was the reason she was able to move on.

He made her realize Harry’s true intentions; she was only a doll to Harry. Someone to use for their own needs only to throw them away when they’re done.

So then why is she so unsure about it all now?

“St-stop.” She mumbled against his lips. Her hands gently pressed against his chest, a light push disconnecting the two.

“Please.” Y/n’s voice faltered as she silently wept. She attempted to keep her emotions at bay the past few days, but it appeared it all finally caught up with her. Even Dominic could sense it. After receiving Harry’s voicemail she seemed exhausted, not physically of course, but mentally. 

His eyes scanned her features with confusion. “Y/n what’s wrong?” He asked with shallow breaths. She didn’t have to tell him, he already knew. The minute he saw the two of them reunited, Y/n hadn’t been the same.

He sighed disappointingly “This is about him...Isn’t it?” He accused as he began to feel his frustration build, and the deafening silence from Y/n only confirmed his suspicions.

His hands tightened around her waist. “Y/n do you not remember what he did to you?” He scoffed, his voice laced with pure amazement at her foolishness. “I mean- didn’t I already tell you how bad of a person he is?” His harsh words were like a slap across the face to Y/n, not understanding how far he was willing to go to keep her as his own little toy.

He took a deep breath, attempting to compose himself. “He only wanted you for sex Y/n. He doesn’t love you, he never will and I can bet money that he did the same thing to a hundred other girls.” He said calmly, almost as if he thought his words were comforting.

Y/n shook her head gently, her eyes welling up as she tried to not let him get to her head. Harry was a good man, and she knew that. He just made one bad choice, one that almost shattered her heart.

But everyone deserves a second chance... right?

“And what exactly do you want from me, Dominic?” Y/n uttered pathetically as she attempted to muster any confidence she had left in her. She scoffed with spite that covered her sad features. “I mean let’s be real here, I don’t even think we’ve actually been on a real date.”

It was true; they hadn’t. He would always say it was because he was unconventional when it came to dating and love. But even Y/n knew it was just a cover, Dominic never wanted anything serious with Y/n... Or any girl, for that matter.

His frustration evidently returned to his features “What? Do you want us to have candlelit dinners and have me shower you with flowers every night?” He argued.

“Well it’s certainly better than whatever this-” She gestures between the both of them “Is.”

That was the last straw for him, he knew he was losing her and yet instead of attempting to calm her down and get her on his side once again; he preferred to attack her where it hurt most.

“Look. I don’t know what sort of fairytale you were living in when you were with Harry, but you’re in the real world now, I’m doing the best I can.”

“And you’re not exactly making it easy for me.”

“Well, if that’s how you feel, allow me to make it easy for you.” It was only then when the tears that remained still in her glassy eyes escaped, falling down onto her cheek as she gently pushed him out of the hold he had on her, remembering to take the book she had left on the shelf behind her.

He watched her curiously as she began packing her belongings that were scattered around his apartment bedroom.

This wasn’t what Dominic wanted, he just needed her to realize that he was better than Harry. But it wasn’t because he loved her, no it was far from that. It was simply because Y/n was a possession; she was his and only his.

Y/n packed the last of her clothing in a duffle bag before moving towards the kitchen. “Wait- Y/n.” He hastily trailed behind her. “Please, don’t go, I’m sorry.”

His voice seemed faint to Y/n’s ears, almost as if her whole body was working to shut him out. “Look didn’t mean it, I just- I’m so frustrated.” He remarked, seemingly with remorse laced in his tone.

“Ignore him. Ignore him. Ignore him.” She chanted to herself in her head.

He eventually caught up to her. His hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back from the door. “Just please... don’t leave me alone.”

Her gaze found his, and although it sounded like he felt guilty, his eyes told a different story. There wasn’t an ounce of love or the least bit of regret that she could find.

It was just desperation.

She wriggled her arm out of his tight hold. “I’m sorry, I just... I need some air. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She quickly averted his gaze before making her way out the door, shutting it behind her with an exhausted huff.

--------

Soft water droplets hit against the car window as Y/n drove away from Dominic’s apartment. Her clouded gaze focused on the road in front of her as her hands tightly gripped the steering wheel.

She wasn’t sure where she was going. A part of her itched to leave, leave this town behind and start somewhere new.

Y/n couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that played at her lips. She knew it was unrealistic... and mostly dramatic, but it wasn’t exactly impossible. What was there to stop her?

As she reached a red light, the flimsy ring that wrapped around her finger caught her eye as it glowed underneath the reflection of the bright lights that cast through her car. She sighed, deciding to turn on the radio to comfort her rather than basking in the deafening silence.

Her ears quickly pricked up at the familiar voice that played through the radio as a wave of goosebumps filtered across her skin.

She read the small display on her radio, Now playing: Cherry by Harry Styles.

Y/n stared at her car radio for a few moments, purely dumbfounded as she let the song resound through her car. “Hilarious.” She remarked at the universe with spite.

She didn’t attempt to turn it off. It was as if something was keeping her from doing so. Maybe it was her own mind, hoping that the song would confirm how destructive of a person Harry truly was, and in doing so removing any remnant feelings that remained in her heart for him.

Or perhaps it was the opposite.

Perhaps she secretly wished for Harry to give her a glimmer of hope, a hidden message that he still yearned for her as she does for him.

And with that, she let the song ring out into the car, letting the harmonious sounds envelop her all the way until the very end.

It was only then, when she found exactly what she was looking for.

Hope.

--------

This was a bad idea.

An incredibly bad idea.

Y/n knew that.

She still had the chance to turn around, so why didn’t she?

Here Y/n was pacing up and down the front of Harry’s apartment contemplating what seemed to be the unthinkable in her eyes.

“He could be out of town, oh god please be out of town and save me the embarrassment.” She muttered to herself, her frustration and levels of doubt only building with every second that passed.

She stopped in her tracks, her hand landing on the cold door handle. “I can do this.” She chanted, taking a deep breath before feeling her fingers fall from the object. “I can’t do this.” She groaned.

She wanted so much to turn around and never look back, maybe even forget that she ever even attempted to do this in the first place. But she couldn’t ignore how she felt, how her body was reacting at the possibility that she could see Harry again.

Her fingertips itched for her to knock on the door. Her eyes squeezed shut as she fought the tears that threatened to cloud her vision. With that, she gave in to the overwhelming feeling. She reached up, knocking on the door with a soft thump as her heart wildly drummed against her chest. “it’s now or never Harry.”

A few moments passed, her mind already raced with worried thoughts and regret. “Turn around Y/n. Go home, this was a bad idea.” Just as she was about to turn back around, she heard it. The faintest click. Her heart dropped.

The door had been unlocked.

It was as if time stopped. The rest of the world quickly fading around her as she caught a glimpse of him.

She admired his disheveled state, no matter how much she still resented him, she couldn’t deny the attraction she had towards him. His soft features making her believe that he is still the same man he was when they were ‘together’. But it’s those features that allowed him to get whatever he wanted in life, Y/n figured that out the hard way.

Harry’s confused gaze fell on Y/n’s familiar figure. His eyes transfixed on hers, unable to speak as an overwhelming wave of memories flood his mind.

“Y/n?” Harry was speechless at the sight of her. He couldn’t believe that she was standing right in front of her. So much so, a part of him believed he might be hallucinating. “What-“

Y/n quickly cut him off, urgency clear in her voice “Did you mean it?” She questioned anxiously.

Harry scanned her features with disbelief. “What are you talking about?” He asked uncertainly, almost hurt by her accusing tone.

“The voicemail Harry.”

He groaned, hiding his embarrassment by averting his eyes. “You know how sorry I am for that, I was drunk if it wasn’t obvious already.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “So you didn’t mean any of it? At all?”

“I don’t understand-“

Y/n felt like she was hitting her head against a brick wall, not only was she stumbling over her words, unable to convey what she wanted Harry to tell her, but she knew he wasn't someone who showed their true feelings when asked, it had to come naturally. “Just tell me the truth, please, I need to hear it.”

“What do you want me to say Y/n.” His voice was low but remained soft. Although he still wasn’t sure of her intentions, he found himself more curious than anything.

No matter how much Harry denied it, a part of him knew that there were and still are feelings that are locked away for her. He just never dared to face it.

It was a constant conflict in his life. When he loved, he loved deeply. He was a romantic and Y/n knew that very well. But there was always constant doubt in his mind that Y/n didn’t understand. He feared losing the thing that he would spend so long trying to fall in love with and adore.

So instead, he tried to avoid it completely

But Y/n was the opposite, a hopeless romantic they call it, she was never afraid to share her feelings. But the trait was destructive, she wore her heart on her sleeve which caused her to be impulsive, and this was definitely one of those times.

“...Please Harry.”

He shook his head in an attempt to gather and process his erratic thoughts. “I just don’t get it love, I thought you moved on already.”

“This isn’t about him okay just please, tell me I’m not crazy, tell me you still care.” She pleaded with desperation that gleamed in her eyes.

He refused to let his guard down, refused to allow himself to fall back into another trap that ended in him with a broken heart... again. “And then what? M’not trying to be a prick, but you have a partner already.”

She pitifully rolled her eyes. “Oh please Harry, you and I both know he isn’t the type to settle, he was eyeing off at least three other girls at that listening party of yours.”

Harry felt his jaw clench at her words. His first instinct was to scold Y/n at her choice of partner. But he couldn’t. Both of them weren’t anything more than acquaintances at this point. “So then why bother if you already knew it was a waste of time.”

He knew that he couldn’t stop Y/n from getting with other people, but he also couldn’t resist the touch jealousy that ran through his body at the thought of Y/n being with another man, especially one that seemingly doesn’t even cherish her the way he had.

Y/n’s gaze averted Harry’s as she pondered his question for a small moment “I guess... I needed a distraction.” Her hurt eyes met with his, “From you.”

She let out a small scoff. It was as if she was opening Pandora’s box. All these unsaid thoughts and ignored feelings were hitting both of them all at once. “I mean for god sakes Harry, can you blame me? You hurt me.”

“But you were the one that left me Y/n.” He snapped, his voice raised slightly but he wasn’t angry. Harry had the ability to keep his composure no matter how stressful situations managed to become.

Her eyes instantly perked up at the accusation. “What?” After a small moment, she realized what Harry was talking about.

The night where everything ended.

Her expression quickly changed into one of resentment “I only left because you were an asshole, I mean I actually told you that I-” She caught herself mid-sentence, not allowing the rest of her words to fall from her lips. 

But although the words weren’t said, Harry still managed to connect the dots.

“And then all of a sudden, you’re able to say it back. Through a drunk voicemail of all things.” She shook her head, her eyes averting from his, unable to meet his gaze anymore.

Her heart beat ten times faster than before as she thought about how crazy she must be to even begin to think what she was doing was even remotely a good idea. She should’ve just left it alone and not involved herself with the trouble that came with Harry, but she couldn’t help it, it was like a magnetic pull that kept bringing her back to him. 

She inhaled a nervous breath. “I don’t know what it is about you Harry, no amount of distractions have been able to keep my mind from thinking about you. It’s like you still have this hold on me that I can’t explain.”

“Tell me what you want from me Y/n.” Harry didn’t want to fight with her, neither did he want to see her upset.

He was trying. Trying to reach out to Y/n in a way that felt safe enough for him. He knew what she wanted, he secretly wanted it to, he always has. He just didn’t exactly know how to express it.

“I already did.” She murmured quietly.

“No, you told me how you felt. Now tell me what you want.” He coaxed calmly.

Y/n took a small and hesitant breath to control her racing heart. “I just want you, Harry, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

She hated feeling as pathetic as she did. She felt like she was begging for his affection. Whilst Harry was in his own head, worrying if he even deserved Y/n’s affection in the first place or whether she deserved someone better. Someone that could shower her with the same amount of love Y/n would for him.

He sighed thoughtfully, admiring the pitiful girl in front of her for a few moments before moving over to the side of the doorway. “You should probably get inside y’know, wouldn’t want you to get a cold or something.”

He held the door open for her before nodding his head, gesturing for her to move into the apartment. A sad smile played at her lips as she heard the familiar and comforting sound of Harry’s usual amused tone. “Silly girl.” He mumbled quietly as she walked through the door, but just loud enough for Y/n to hear it.

Although tonight hadn’t been exactly the way that Y/n had pictured it, it was something. It was a small step in the right direction and she was grateful for it.

They spent the rest of the night just talking, catching up on everything they’ve missed for the last eight months without each other. Harry went on an endless rant about his many adventures in Japan whilst Y/n skimmed on the finer details of her ‘relationship’ with Dominic and chose to dive into the topic of her career instead.

“Enough about all that boring stuff though, can we talk about Fine Line please?” She teased.

Harry groaned, throwing his head back with embarrassment, as he pushed himself further into the couch in an attempt to hide from Y/n’s taunts. “I’d rather we didn’t.”

She chuckled with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Fine, fine, another day then. But I am going to need an explanation for Cherry.”

“Of course you do.” Harry mused, lightly shaking his head with a boyish smile. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, purely dumbfounded by the events that unfolded tonight. He turned his head, looking back at her. “Hey Y/n?” He questioned.

She simply hummed, waiting for him to continue.

“I don’t suppose you want to stay the night? I mean S’pretty late, wouldn’t feel good about you driving at this time anyways.”

Y/n gasped sarcastically. “Are you implying that I’m a bad driver?”

“Course not, just want you to be safe s’all.” He murmured.

Y/n smiled softly at his concern. “Only if I’m not intruding.” She answered, her fingers twirling a loose curl that had fallen in front of Harry’s tired face.

It felt peaceful, comforting, as the both of them sat there silently simply just appreciating each other’s company for a few, small moments. They needed those moments; it was a way for both of them to let their guard down and allow themselves to trust one another again.

Harry was the first to break the pleasant silence. “I assume you brought a bag with you? Not that it matters, if you need, you can dig through my clothes m’sure you’ll find something you could use.”

Y/n nodded. “Yeah, it’s just in the car I can go grab it.”

Harry quickly piped up before Y/n was able to move even an inch from her seat. “Not to worry princess, you get comfortable I’ll go instead.” He lightly tapped her thigh before pushing himself off the couch.

“Harry wait-“ She called out. Her hand managed to interlock with his fast enough before he could walk away. He looked back, watching curiously as Y/n also stood up from the couch.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, his features instantly filled with concern. His hand fell from hers but instead, was protectively wrapped around her waist. The rings around his fingers slightly dug into her skin, the cold metal seeped through the thin material of her shirt causing a wave of goosebumps to wash over her. He gently used his other hand to grasp her chin between his fingers, lifting her head just enough for her gaze to meet his. “Y/n?” He began to worry at the sight of her glassy eyes. 

“Don’t go just yet.” Y/n pleaded quietly. Her hands nervously toying with the hem of his shirt. “Please.” Her arms gently wrapped around the back of his neck as she pulled him closer towards her. Her lips brushed against his, “Can I... can I kiss you?”

No matter how much she wanted to give into the urge to kiss him right then and there, Y/n held consent at such a high regard, as did Harry. He always wanted Y/n to feel comfortable and most importantly, safe. He playfully tilted his head with a teasing grin “Of course y’can princess.” 

The feeling of hesitation no longer reside in either of them and with one swift movement, Harry’s lips firmly pressed against hers. It only took a small moment before the both of them began to move in perfect sync. Although It was only a kiss, it seemed to make every thought that worried Y/n’s head dissipate as Harry reassuringly ran his fingers up and down her back. The kiss itself was slow, soft but comforting in ways that words would never be.  

Y/n noticed a new sense of lust overpower her senses. She continued, kissing him more hungrily as time passed, and even Harry noticed her newfound pushiness as she roughly deepened the kiss which caused a gruff and low groan to escape from the back of his throat.

She breathlessly pulled away from him, bringing him back towards the couch and disconnecting the kiss as she gently pushed him down on the seat. She couldn’t help herself as she flung her leg over his lap to straddle him. He raised a taunting brow “Quite a needy little thing aren’t you?” He quipped, watching as her arms wrapped around his shoulder, resting on the back of his neck.

Her fingers interlaced with a short strand of his hair, twirling it around as she attempted to taunt him. Her innocent eyes failed to leave his as his concentration remained fixated on her plump lips. “Only for you, baby.” She leaned in, reconnecting their kiss. It was filled with more urgency than the last. The familiar taste of peppermint lingering as he moved his lips roughly against hers. 

The rough feeling of denim grazed her legs as she grinded her hips into his. Her hands remained entangled in his hair while she tugged on the loose strands, earning a low yet encouraging groan to escape from Harry.

She felt his hands travel across her collarbone, tracing the material of her blouse before toying with the buttons that kept her precious body hidden away from him. Y/n felt the material fall from her shoulders, leaving her exposed and vulnerable to Harry. She pulled away from him as the cold air hit her chest. “We can’t do this here.” She murmured almost breathlessly, biting her lip to suppress the moan that threatened to fall as he planted gentle kisses along her neck, softly nipping at the delicate skin.

“As you wish princess.” He said tauntingly. Y/n could practically feel his smile against her body as his arms roughly gripped her lower back, pulling her up from the seat whilst her legs remained wrapped around his waist.

Y/n was in a fit of giggles as he carried her to his bedroom, mainly because he still managed to pepper kisses across her chest. “I swear to god Styles, if you drop me-“ He shushed her, continuing his torturous yet pleasurable assault on her body before gently placing her down on the bed. “That wasn’t so bad now was it?” He tutted playfully as he made his way to the other side of the bed, his body pressing against hers. “And all that complaining for nothing.” 

Y/n hummed thoughtfully. “Are you going to punish me now, baby?” She asked with a sweet smile, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck as she pulled him closer towards her, their faces only inches apart from each other.

“Are y’sure you want to do this? He murmured lowly which earned an excited nod from Y/n. 

“Gonna have t’use your words princess. Wanna hear you say it.” He hovered over her body, pressing featherlight kisses down her chest, all the way to her stomach while he teased traced the band of her jeans.

His dominating tone definitely had its way with Y/n. It was difficult not to resist him as the words sat on the tip of her tongue, waiting to escape. “...Please Harry, I want you.”

Harry let out a low chuckle at her pleading. “If I’d have known you were this desperate for me, I would’ve drunk called you a long time ago.”

--------

They both were messily wrapped up in a mountain of clean sheets. Harry leaned against the cotton headboard whilst Y/n remained on his lap. His hands delicately toyed with hers, his gaze thoughtfully looked over the ring that reside on her index finger. “You kept this?” He gestured towards the small object.

But it wasn’t just any old ring, it had the detailing of a rose whilst the rest of the band was covered in small diamonds. The small and dainty rose happened to be the same shade of red as the one Harry had offered Y/n on the day they met.

She hummed approvingly before her eyes lit up in excitement. A teasing smile played at her lips, “I also kept...” She gleefully jumped off the bed, grabbing something from her bag.

“This.” Harry curiously eyed the possession in her hands as she jumped back onto the bed, flinging her legs over Harry’s body, straddling him before she revealed the object. Harry’s features instantly ignited at the realization of what it was.

It was their book.

Harry immediately flicked through the fragile pages, skimming over the words with reminiscence evident in his eyes. But there was something different he noticed about it. Tiny little annotations were done with red ink across certain sentences and significant quotes were highlighted in different colours.

“I was going to give it to you before we...” Her voice trailed off, causing Harry’s chest to ache with guilt. “It was supposed to be as if you were reading it along with me, see?” She explained sheepishly.

Her heart rate quickened as doubts floated through her mind. “I know it’s silly.”

He flicked through all the way to the end of the book, noticing the red ink fly through each of the pages. “You wrote all this for me?” He asked with complete amazement in his tone.

“Maybe... but I understand if it’s too much you don’t have to read it-“ Y/n’s words were interrupted by a small and chaste kiss. “I love it, thank you princess.” He murmured softly. A faint blush ran across Y/n’s face. She could practically feel the low vibration of his voice as his lips hovered below hers.

Harry playfully shook his head, pulling away from her and instead returned to the book with a teasing smile. “Do you mind if I keep it for a bit?” He asked, noticing the nerves that fluttered through Y/n. She mumbled a small ‘I don’t mind’ before Harry closed the book and placed it on the bedside table.

“So, that means you did end up reading the whole story.” He quipped. She laughed lightly, falling back onto her side of the bed. The sound of her laughs were music to Harry’s ears, almost as if it were angelic. It was something he missed most about her.

“Every last page.” Y/n said approvingly. She reached towards the switch, turning off the lights as they sorted themselves for bed.

Y/n was the small spoon, of course.

The deafening silence filled the room. You could almost hear their racing heartbeats as they comfortingly lay in each other’s arms. “Hey Y/n.” He murmured, his voice evidently laced with exhaustion.

She didn’t bother opening her eyes, “Yes baby?” She asked curiously. A boyish smile teased his lips. Another thing he missed whilst Y/n wasn’t around. The pet names.

He couldn’t describe the emotions he was feeling. It was as if he never felt this way before about anyone or anything and frankly; it scared him. It was the same way he felt before Y/n had left him those many months ago.

But this time he swore he would not let his fears get to him. He knew this was right where he needed to be.

People always talk as of waiting until the right or perfect moment to express their affection, but Harry came to realize that the right moment doesn’t exist. 

It was now or never.

He planted a small kiss on the back of her head. A hesitant sigh escaped from him as he attempted to push away his unease, giving into his vulnerability.

“...I love you.”

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Drunk Calling

Pairing = Santiago x reader

Words = 1.7k

Summary = A drunk call to Santi ends the night less than ideal

Warnings = drinking, angsty ending? quite open

A/N =  Prompt no.37 requested by @writefightandflightclub​ as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “You are too drunk to be speaking right now” w/santi and bolded in text. Also this is not that great, but writers block sucks and I hope you like it Luna! 

Masterlist 

***

“Santiiiagoooo.” You stretch out his name as you hold onto the bar with one hand, speaking into your phone.

You can’t hear his voice so you pull the phone down, frowning in concentration as the black screen swims in front of you. You definitely called him, that’s his name on your phone.

You put the phone back to your ear, listening carefully, trying to block out the music playing in one corner. It’s still ringing, that’s good.

You can see your friends, a couple of them still dancing, the others smoking, visible through the window as they pretend that they’re not cold in the dark air.

And then you hear him. “Sweetheart?” His voice sounds slow, and muffled, like he’s underwater. “Are you alright?”

You grin. “Santi!” You wish he was here with you. “I wish you were here.”

There’s a mirror behind the bar, and you catch sight of your reflection, hair looser than when you left your house, a slight sheen of sweat on your skin from dancing.

You can’t hear him for a second, and you panic. “Santi?”

There’s a small grunt, and you can hear him moving. You sigh in response, waiting, and propping yourself up on the bar a little better. “Where are you?”

“I-,” you start, making a face at yourself in the mirror, “- am having fun. Where are you?”

You can hear him laugh, and you adjust the phone. “I’m in bed.”

“In bed?” You frown. “In boring land more like.”

“It’s 2am,” He reminds you, laughing. It’s scratchier than his normal laugh, deeper.

“Why do you sound different?”

There’s another pause, and it suddenly occurs to you that maybe 2am is a bad time to call, except you wish Santi were here and this is the next best thing, because really all you want is to give him a hug.

“This is what I sound like when I wake up sweetheart.” He clears his throat, and then his voice comes through, louder and clearer. “I’m in bed, remember?”

“I wish I was with you.”

You can practically hear his raised eyebrow. “Yeah? I thought I was in boring land?”

“Ahh, but it wouldn’t be boring if I was there.”

You register that the top of the bar is sticky so you try and stand a bit more independently.

“Careful, you’re starting to sound a bit like the fun police.” Santi’s voice is dry, and you suddenly can’t tell if he’s joking.

“I’m not the fun police,” you pout at your reflection. “I just… I bring the fun.”

Santi chuckles again, and your heart jumps. “I know-” the rest of his sentence is cut off when two of your friends suddenly appear at your side, whooping and laughing.

“Who are you on the phone too?” Silvia shouts as they wait for the bartender. She’s pulled her hair away from her face, curls now struggling to pull free from a ponytail, as she pulls the skirt of her dress further down her legs.

You twist the phone away so she can’t see, pushing into her side slightly. “Two, no sorry! Three jagerbombs please?” She hands her card over, even as you shake your head.

“I’m not drinking anymore.”

“No!” Silvia whines your name. Pulling on Mikki’s arm, she brings her into the debate. “Tell her she has to drink the jagerbomb, and then tell us who she’s on the phone too!”

Mikki nods, solemn. “You gotta do it.”

You sigh, even as the bartender returns with the three drinks, Silvia’s card, and a receipt.

“Come on, come on, come on.” Silvia’s handing you the shot, and you're holding the drink in your free hand, as the two of them start chanting. “Drink.”

“Drink.”

“Drink.”

You roll your eyes, already knowing you’re going to do it. And then, with a fluid movement and a couple of swallows, the three of you are holding empty glasses.

You turn back to your phone, assuming they’re going to dance. “Santi?”

Unfortunately, that means you miss the knowing look they share between them.

“Silvia?” That’s Mikki’s voice.

“Yes Mikki?”

You turn back in mild horror, the phone now halfway to your face.

“How do you call your loverboy?”

“Come ‘ere, lover...boy!” The effect is ruined somewhat by Silvia’s attempt to control her laughter, hand covering her mouth.

“And if he doesn’t answer?” Mikki leans over as she talks, grasping the phone from you and pointing at the screen as she mouths the Santiago? eyes wide in excitement. You suddenly regret telling them about him.

Santi hasn’t hung up, the number under his name increasing steadily.

“Ohh loverboy!” Silvia’s talking dangerously close to your phone now, even as you try and take your phone back.

“And if he still doesn’t answer?”

There’s a glint in Mikki’s eye that you recognise and usually love, although you’re not normally on the receiving end.

“Santiago?” Mikki’s lifted the phone to her ear, and then she’s nodding. “Uh huh.” She looks at you. “Yeah she is.”

Oh no.

You grab Mikki’s wrist, trying to pull the phone away. “Yeah she is, what?” You hiss. “Mikki, yeah she is, what?”

Mikki ignores you, pushing your grabbing hands away. “You’re too drunk to be speaking right now.” She tells you happily, phone still to her ear and you groan, stomping your foot a little in frustration.

“She’s having fun, yeah.”

“Mikki!” You hiss again, unaware that Silvia’s phone is out and she’s recording the two of you.

“Kuckoo, do you know it?”

“Mikki!” You wail, collapsing dramatically onto the bar, grimacing when a coaster sticks to your cheek.

Mikki is still talking to him. “- and then you turn left, and it’s the one with the red light. You should come one day, they’ve got good music.”

You can only watch on in horror as she wraps up the call. “Bye Santiago!”

That’s her flirty voice, why is she using her flirty voice when she knows you li-

No.

She thinks you like him.

“Or should I say, bye Pope?” She asks, twirling a curl around her finger as though she’s stood in front of him.

She hangs up before you have a chance to tell her that he doesn’t like that nickname as a civi, that it’s only for the army, that he prefers Santi, he told you he likes Santi. Instead, you can only take your phone back with a huff.

“Ok, what?” Mikki’s arms are crossed now.

“Don't flirt with him,” you snap, irrationally annoyed. “He’s my friend and I don’t need you two…” you don’t find the words so you make a crude gesture.

“Jealous, much?” Mikki bites back. “If you fancy him, you just let me know, and I’ll step back. If you don’t, then as far as I’m concerned, I can flirt with him.”

You suddenly don’t know what’s happening to your stomach, something ugly roiling inside you. “But I wasn’t flirting,” Mikki continues, annoyed. “Look all he wanted to talk about was you and he’ll be here in a bit to take you home, ok?”

You don’t say anything, stunned. “Call me tomorrow when you’re sober, let’s have brunch or something?”

You nod, confused, but glad Mikki doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge, as she and Silvia make their way back to the dance floor.

10 minutes later, you’re waiting outside, shivering in the cold, admiring the stars, when Santi pulls up in his truck, window down, hat on.

When you climb in, he rolls the window up. The heater is on and you give another shiver, this time in delight.

And then, before you can stop yourself, you’re taking his hat, jamming it onto your head and admiring yourself in the mirror. Santi’s smiling, but he’s not looking at you. Good. You don’t think you could handle it if he smiled at you right now.

Neither of you talk, not even when you start fiddling with the radio, clumsy fingers pressing buttons until you find a song you like, humming under your breath as you twist the hat in your hands, suddenly nervous.

You don’t like Santi.

Do you?

No. You’re drunk, and gullible, and Mikki’s in your head.

Except he smells so good.

All the time. And he gives such good hugs. And he’s your best friend, your go to for… nearly everything.

You know you love him. That doesn’t mean you’re in love with him.

Does it?

You don’t realise at first when he’s parked outside your building, your swirling thoughts taking up your concentration until Santi turns the engine off. The sudden silence makes you stop, when Santi touches your leg.

“We’re here.”

It’s the first words he’s spoken to you in person, and suddenly, you’re tongue tied.

But he helps you in, pouring you a glass of water while you change, placing some paracetamol on your bedside table as you wipe your makeup off.

All in all, you manage, uttering small sentences as Santi tucks you into bed. And then he’s about to go when-

“I’m sorry for when my friends were on the phone.”

Santi turns to you, his figure shrouded in darkness, hat back on his head. He doesn’t say anything, and so you continue. “They, just… they think you’re good-looking or, I dunno, that I have a crush on you, and I just, I’m sorry, if that made you uncomfortable, or-“

Tears are beginning to pool in your eyes and you can’t be bothered to stop them, a deep sadness welling up in you, except you don’t know why. “-you’re just a really good friend to me Santi, and they know that and I do like you, but how can I tell you that-“

You sniff, and Santi moves towards you as your words slur together slightly. “-it’s not something you can tell your friend is it, I like what we have, I do, and I don’t want to ruin it.”

The bed dips and Santi’s there, pulling you into a hug as you sob into his shoulder. “You’re so nice Santiago.”

His arms are around your back. “You’ve always got me, and you make me laugh.” He just squeezes you tighter and you feel safe.

“Santi I think I-“

“You’re drunk.” He’s pulled back, and he’s not looking at you anymore. “You need to go to sleep.”

Weren’t you just crying into his shoulder? That man’s suddenly gone, and instead Santi’s twisting his hat in one hand, reaching up the other to mess with his curls as he stands.

“I don’t want you to say something you’re gonna regret.” You only dimly register the words, lying back onto your pillow, turning away from him.

Your sleep is fractured and teary, and when you wake, you can’t remember your dreams.

***

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[hisunshiine]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭

♡ 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬

♡ 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴

♡ 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

♡ 𝘸𝘤: 3343

an: commissioned story

Walking up the stairs to your best friends’ apartment, you hang your cape over your shoulder, defeated. Waiting patiently as Namjoon unlocked the front door, Jungkook shuffled side to side, just as upset as you, the evidence written across his face. His signature bunny smile, nowhere to be found, was replaced with a pout fixed on his face as he followed you into the apartment while Namjoon struggled to get the key back out of the golden deadbolt lock.

The sound of shoes being slipped off filled the silence along with jangling keys and the low murmur of curses followed by a soft exclamation of joy as Namjoon shut the door.

“I’m sorry babe. I didn’t know  it was cancelled. I didn’t check my email before we left...”

You tossed your purple cape over the couch and got comfy in your favorite spot.  Tucked into the left corner of the couch, your sheer pantyhose legs crossed, you dropped your head onto the back rest of the couch and attempted to look at Namjoon still in the entryway. Dressed up as Thor, his arms flexed nicely as you watched him put his shoes on the rack by the door, grown out blond hair falling in his face.

“Joonie, it’s fine. I don’t blame you. I’m just sad we didn’t get to show off our hard work.” You gesture at your outfit, Raven from Teen Titans, and shrugged. Left in just the black long sleeved leotard and hosiery, you sigh. 

“Poor Kookie here has been doing pushups and crunches for the past two weeks so that he could pull off a gladiator from 300.”  You turned your gaze to Jungkook, perched on the barstool next to the kitchen counter, elbow braced on the table to hold his head up as he sulked. “Nice job by the way, you got a lot of looks when we were walking up to the convention center.”

He laughed, shameless as always when showing off his beautifully built frame.

“Hey, I think the woman with the baby stroller really enjoyed the view.”

“I would hope so, she damn near tripped over her own child breaking her neck to stare.”

You lean up as Namjoon makes his way over to the couch, your eyes following the way his well-built body moves in the ludicrously tight Thor outfit. 

“What can we do to make it up to you? We rarely get a day off like this, all together.”

He was right. Adulting had made the time spent with your best friends almost nonexistent. Attempts to hang out, all three of you, rarely went off without a hitch; with Namjoon receiving calls from the office about accounts in progress, or Jungkook having to go in to work with the local sports team as their trainer during both on and off seasons, and you working your 9 to 5. It was stressful.

“Honestly, just spending time with you guys is all I need.” 

Namjoon lifted your legs to sit next to you, placing them in his lap as Jungkook jumped up and grabbed a dusty, small box off the living room bookshelf. An old deck of Uno cards that you all used to stay up late and play in college is tossed onto the coffee table while Jungkook’s feet carried him to the kitchen, where he grabbed a few beers.

“For old time’s sake?”

——————

Uno had turned into Strip Uno quickly, once you all were a few beers deep. The opaque green glass bottles were set off to the side of the coffee table as the three of you sat around, tipsy and half naked, laughing at each other. 

Jungkook had been the first one to lose an article of clothing, his Leonidas style crown tossed on the other side of the couch with Namjoon’s discarded cape. Namjoon followed suit with his costume shirt being next to disappear from his body. The males’ losing streak ended when you were the unlucky one to lose a large item, your black leotard. It wasn’t long before Jungkook, who had already been shirtless, had lost his roman gladiator skort, and Namjoon’s pants made it onto the clothing pile, leaving the three of you sitting comfortably in half-nakedness.

“God, I can’t believe we used to really trade girls back and forth, hyung.” Jungkook was laughing as he remembered some of their crazier antics, which you knew all about as their best friend. You’d even walked into some compromising situations once or twice, and saw exactly what each of them was working with below the belt.

“I can, man, we were insatiable. Fuck, we still are Kook, don’t act like just because we’re working now crazy shit still doesn’t happen.”

Namjoon’s eyes were low, the alcohol in his system making him feel nice.

“You’re right,” Jungkook giggled, face red from intoxication, “just way less often. It’s been what? 4 months or so? We need to throw a party or something.”

“You guys are just as bad as you were in college.” You say, leaning back into the couch behind you. None of you had moved from the floor where you had sat around the table to play Uno.

“Oh, right. I forgot that you were our ‘goody two shoes’ girl. Never did anything wrong...” Namjoon tried to roll his eyes, but the half-moon shape barely showed the whites of his eyes.

“That’s not true… I was just way better at being discreet. It wasn’t the campus’ business who I let between my legs.” 

“We played ‘never have I ever’ so many times, though… You never did anything bad.” Jungkook pouted at you, thinking you were lying to him. In reality, you lied back then. It wasn’t anyone’s business and you weren’t going to expose others’ sex lives just for some drinking game.

“I did, I just didn’t put a finger down,” you laughed. “I still drank what I was supposed to, I just didn’t want to be questioned about my threesomes and shit.”

Namjoon couldn’t believe what he heard. You, his precious best female friend, had a threesome before. The air in the room shifts, the tension palpable in the room.

“No, not my YN. You’re the good one.” Namjoon stated jokingly, though you could sense he was still serious.

“I need the details, YN.” Jungkook stared at you, eyes steady as he pinned you with his gaze.

His look is full of desire, and you can see him move ever so slightly as if he was uncomfortable. Jungkook’s hand moves to cover his hardening cock, but not before you can see that it was exactly what was making him so uncomfortable in his boxer briefs. 

“It was nothing wild, Koo. We were drunk, it was college, one of them, the girl, said that getting eaten out feels better by a woman, the other said no way and said he was the best ever to do it, so I volunteered to test out their theory and draw an end to the pissing contest.” 

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered how much fun it was. The memory turned you on slightly; you can feel your arousal drip onto your thong.

“So who was better?”

“She was, definitely.”

Namjoon shakes his head and Jungkook leans back, incredulous. Both had leaned in towards you as you told the short story, falling on every word that you said.

“Pfft! No way, I could totally out-do the chick.”

“Same. He didn’t know what he was doing, clearly.”

You shifted your body to get more comfortable, sitting with your knees bent and spread open in an L shape as you leaned back against the seat of the couch. You may have been curvy, but you were comfortable around Jungkook and Namjoon as they had known you for so long and seen you in various stages of undress, sobriety, and moods.

“I mean, we can always test it out.” You gesture your arm out at the 2 of them, resting your forearm on the knee that is bent up to the sky.

It’s silent, deadly, as they stare at you. Jungkook’s eyes roam your body that is on display for him, instinctively licking his lips. Namjoon, who was still leaned towards you, gives a smirk that has you… excited.

“Baby, you couldn’t handle me.”

“Awe, Joonie, it’s cute that you think so.”

“I’d be better at it anyways.” Jungkook chimed in. That cocky confidence oozing over him as he mimics your pose, though leaning back on his palm, arm extended to share part of his weight.

“Mmm.. I don’t know Kookie, I think Namjoon has been at it a little longer than you, plus, no offense, but he has fuller lips...” You turn away from Jungkook’s pout toward Namjoon, who’s still got that damn smirk on his face.

He moved forward, practically stalking on his hands and knees as he brings himself into your personal space. You watch the way his chest and arms flex, mouth practically drooling at the sight.

“You've been sizing me up, baby?” His voice is low, deeper as he let his hunger for you show. His hand slides along your hip, fingers curling gently around you. “You think about how good it would feel, my tongue between your legs?”

He’s surprised that you didn’t pull away. When you reached up and grabbed a handful of his blond locks and tugged, you reveled in the low groan he let out, eyes fixated on his quivering Adam’s apple as the sinful sound reverberated throughout the apartment.

“Damn—” your eyes snapped to Jungkook, whose pupils had dilated as he watched the interaction between you and his hyung. His mouth hung open; he hadn’t realized he had verbalized his thoughts.

“Everything okay, bun?” you asked, using Jungkook’s pet name that you loved to use when teasing him.

He cleared his throat, his hand stroking gently at his clothed cock, trying to ease the ache.

“Yeah—please, continue.”

You realized he was addressing Namjoon when you felt his parted lips skim across your neck, soft and wet as his tongue joined. Latching on gently, you rolled your head back allowing him more access as you yourself were now the one affected, moaning breathily as his solid frame hovered over you, pressing you back into the couch. You tightened your grip on his hair, and he bit your neck a little harder in response. 

Eyes fluttered closed, you felt a second set of hands on you, palms sliding along the pantyhose that still covered your legs. 

“I know you’ve thought about this...” Jungkook’s lips moved along your tummy as he talked, small kisses along the waistband of your hosiery. “Can practically feel how badly you want this.” 

His fingers dipped into your band and began to tug them down, freeing your thighs from their confines. You arched your back, unable to not react as he mouthed loudly at your clothed core, his tongue flicking against the cotton to trace the outline of your needy clit as he groaned with the inhale of your arousal.

Namjoon on the other hand was quieter, mouth busy sucking light bruises to your skin as his large hands palmed your ample breasts. As he kissed down your neck and collar bone, he pulled one mound from your bra, laving his tongue around your aroused nipple to pull sounds out of you. 

So enthralled in the feel of Namjoon, you don’t notice that Jungkook has you stripped bare, not until he’s nudged your thighs apart and settled himself between, a trail of wet kisses along your inner thigh almost unnoticed due to the amount of pleasure you’re feeling—that is until his lips latched onto your clit, a combined sucking motion with a flicking tongue, made your free hand dive into his mess of dark strands, directing his ministrations.

“Fuck, Jungkook, d-don’t stop.”

Namjoon moved to be behind you, replacing the couch as your backing as Jungkook circled his arms around your thighs and pulled you down closer to his feasting mouth. Namjoon began to kiss at your neck, hands resumed their massaging of your chest, nipples rolling between his fingers as you held Jungkook’s head so you could roll your hips, fucking yourself on his tongue. 

Feeling it build, the delightful coiling in your abdomen snaps when Jungkook enters you with a thrust of his two fingers and strokes roughly along your walls, brushing the rough patch of bundled nerves. You cry out, head thrown back onto Namjoon’s shoulder as you buck, hips rolling as you ride out your high on Jungkook’s face.

“Definitely think that I was better than that girl, huh, angel?”

You nod, never one to lie about how good or bad someone is sexually. 

“You let me have the control to fuck your face, it was amazing.” You tell him, your chest rapidly moving as you attempted to regulate your breathing.

“My turn.”

You feel more than see Namjoon switch places with Jungkook, maneuvering your body to a more comfortable position. Jungkook’s cock, hard and erect, is now pressed between your back and his abs when you leaned back onto him.

“Oh, he left you such a mess, baby.” Namjoon licks a stripe along your swollen clit, lapping at the juices. You’re still sensitive, but he pushed your thighs apart so his large hands could hold you in place as he slowly teased at your folds until you felt yourself leaning into it, wanting more instead of squirming away. 

“Right there Joonie—shit, that feels—oh!” 

Namjoon’s thumb rubbed wet circles on your swollen nub as his tongue explored every inch of you, teasing and tasting. Jungkook held you tight in his embrace, preventing you from running now that you could feel your second orgasm building. 

To make your judgement fair, Jungkook’s lips and hands touched your body where he could reach, knowing that Namjoon’s ministrations had added to your heightened senses when it had been him gracing the spot between your thighs. 

Namjoon’s nose pressed against your clit as he open-mouth kissed your heat, devouring as much as he could of your release before you replaced what he had cleaned up. You could feel the growing orgasm spreading through your veins, the thrum of your beating heart loud in your ears until Namjoon inserted his fingers. The squelching sound as your walls sucked his first two fingers into you caused both men to groan, the vibrations of the one feasting leading you to arch your back into Jungkook’s chest. Toes curling, your mouth is open as you try and catch your breath, but Namjoon did the same move as Jungkook and you squirmed as it consumed you, a crackling of electricity taking over your senses.

Sitting up, Namjoon grinned over your shoulder, knowing that the move his younger roommate taught him all those years ago never fails.

“I would say that makes it 1 for Jungkook, 1 for Namjoon, as we now hold the title ‘better than the girl who rocked your world’, right JK? Our good girl is finally enjoying being bad.”

Namjoon’s chin and lips were slicked with your cum, and you nodded, still a little fucked out as you came down.

“Damn, I wonder what prize we should get?”

Lifting an eyebrow, you sat up off Jungkook's chest, propelling yourself forward until you were on your hands and knees, eye level with Namjoon’s obvious hard-on. Licking your lips, his eyes followed the movement. He watched your every move as you leaned down, opened your mouth slowly, and lowered your tongue to the fabric covering his erection. You hear Jungkook inhale at the view you provide, sopping cunt on display.

“Mmph.. shit, baby.” Namjoon’s cock twitches as your mouth, hot and wet, teases his most sensitive area, and when he lifts his hips slightly, chasing as you pull away, you decide to show him exactly how much you enjoy being bad.

Your hands have pulled his boxer briefs down and the bulbous tip has entered your mouth before he was able to see the glint in your eye. Taking him into your mouth fully, he let out a sound you never thought you’d hear from him, a loud moan higher than his usual tone and accompanied with movement from his hips as he thrust up. Spit from your mouth dripped down his shaft as you pulled back. 

You heard Jungkook mutter a curse as your hips swayed seductively in his face, and you removed your lips off of Namjoon with a wet pop sound, replacing your mouth with your hand as you stroked his length. Turning your head to peek over your shoulder, you follow Jungkook’s gaze, smirking.

“Hey Bun, you gonna stare at it all night, or are you going to fill me up?”

You giggled as he scrambled up onto his knees, his hands tugging at his underwear to free himself from the restraining fabric. You grasp Namjoon’s thighs before you lower yourself again, the thrust of Jungkook entering you from behind pushing you farther onto Namjoon’s cock. The moan vibrates along his shaft, and Namjoon’s toes curl as you swallow around him, tongue tracing the thick vein.

“Fuck, you’re so wet...” Jungkook’s voice, melodious as he vocalizes with each thrust, causes you to clench involuntarily as he splits you. The burn from the stretch feels good, so good, and you push back onto him, fucking yourself as his hands hold onto your curves. 

“Her mouth… Jungkook, her mouth is—” you hollow your cheeks as you vacillate up and down, and Namjoon can no longer form words. His hands cup your face as he watches you worship him, oblivious to the words of praise Jungkook is saying.

“YN, fuck baby, your pussy is squeezing me so tight… You take my cock so well, better than I dreamed of.”

The spit that had gathered in your mouth dripped down and as you massaged Namjoon’s balls, the spit added to his pleasure. You felt them constrict in your hands, his cock twitching as your first warning.

“Baby, I—” you nod, knowing what he wants to say, and the action made him squeeze his whiskey colored eyes shut before he came, ropes of hot cum filling your mouth. Once he opened his eyes again, you made eye contact, pulling off of him and opening your mouth so Namjoon could see the translucent coating on your tongue before you swallowed it. 

“Shit.” 

His dilated pupils watched as you continued to use Jungkook to massage your g-spot, impaling yourself on him while you used a free hand to massage at your clit. Your third orgasm was a little harder to come by, not without a little help, so you told Jungkook what you needed.

“Choke me.”

You couldn’t see the way his doe eyes grew unimaginably wider as he maneuvered his right hand to grip your throat and apply just the right amount of pressure, allowing you to ascend towards climax. You fucked him harder, ass slapping against his thighs harshly.  He released your throat, both hands firmly grasping your hips. A slap to your ass from Jungkook’s hand spurred your words.

“Cum in me Kookie, fill me like Joon did—”

“Ah, fuck, I’m cumm—”

When your walls fluttered, Jungkook groaned and immersed himself as deep into your dripping core as he could so he could fill you as you gushed your arousal around him, juices mingling as you collapsed onto the carpet, Jungkook’s softening dick slipping from inside you as he moved to lay next to you.

Panting, you rolled onto your back, head on Namjoon’s thigh as you waited for your breathing to settle. Jungkook was already smiling and looking none the worse for wear, physically. He moved to lay his head on your tummy, an arm thrown over your body while Namjoon’s hand smoothed the hair away from your face.

“I think that’s… 2 for me,” you say, “and 1 for each of you.” 

Both men look at you in awe as you finish speaking, “...so what were you saying earlier about me being your ‘good girl’?”

♡ 

[jinkicake]

Can You Hold Them?

A continuation of Pillow Princess. Ushijima helps you relieve the tension in your back. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

For you anon~ I hope you like it. (ʃƪ¬‿¬) My friends complain all the time about how much their boobs can hurt and it blows my mind how badly they say their backs will hurt :-( . I’m always listening, with my flat ass chest, like ‘word’? I got nothing but mad respect for my big titty bitches, love you beautiful mfs.

SMUT LITERALLY NO PLOT JUST SMUT :-)

WC- 1,180

~~~

You whine uncomfortably and try to stretch your back, rolling your shoulders and hitting the sore area with your fist. Ushijima looks up from his magazine to watch you, at first it was because you were squirming on his lap so much but then he noticed how hard you were punching yourself. He takes your hands in his and forces you to relax against his chest, though it causes your breasts to ache uncomfortably.

“What’s wrong?” Ushijima watches you with concern, his olive eyes widen slightly when you lift your hands and cup your breasts.

“My back hurts because of my boobs.” You frown and sit up straight before arching your back, moving your shoulders until you hear the familiar ‘pops’ of your bones cracking. “Here, can you hold?” Ushijima looks like he stopped breathing, there is a passive look of surprise on his face before he nods in agreement. He isn’t going to deny you, he wants to be helpful. You sigh in content when his large hands hold your breasts, almost immediately it feels like a weight was lifted off your shoulders and upper back.

“Is that good?” Ushijima asks wearily and your eyes flutter shut as you lift your arms above your head to stretch a little more.

“It feels great Wakatoshi, thank you.” You open your eyes and smile at him, thanking him before placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “You don’t understand how difficult they can be.”

Ushijima goes quiet for a minute, his eyes fall down to your chest. Difficult?

“They?”

“Yeah,” You arch into his hands to motion to your chest.

“I see, they are beautiful though.” He compliments and you bite the inside of your cheek to try to hide the blood rushing to your face.

“You only like me for my chest Wakatoshi?” You tease and Ushijima frowns a bit.

“Every part of you is beautiful.” His words make your heart swell and you feel the praise swirl around in your mind.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” You whine and Ushijima gently squeezes his hands.

“Why not, it’s true-“

You’re quick to cut him off because you know he will tell you how much he worships the ground you walk on for hours straight. You meant something completely different.

“When you say stuff like that it makes me want to suck your dick and have you cum so deep in my throat that I’ll choke.” You confess, staring at him the entire time, your tone sounds innocent but your words are anything but that. Ushijima swallows hard and you feel him shuffle underneath you.

“I see,” He says again and you hum in thought. “sit on my thigh please.”

His thigh? But you’re sitting right on his dick. You frown as you shuffle off his lap and move onto one of his strong thighs. Ushijima doesn’t let go of your breasts, he simply continues to hold them.

“Now?” You ask eagerly, your patience wearing thin.

“Ride me.” Ushijima relaxes back against the couch and if that simple motion wasn’t one of the hottest things you had ever seen. Your mind goes blank for a second and you blink before looking down at his clothed thigh. Experimentally you move your hips forward and gasp when you feel the soft material of his sweatpants press against your clothed clit. The harsh material of your own panties adds to the sensation and you look back up at Ushijima with your mouth slightly agape. This is what he wants? “I want to make you feel good.”

He trails one of his hands under your shirt and before you know it, his large t-shirt that was covering your shoulders is now strung somewhere on the floor. The feeling of his warm palms directly touching your breast and his thumbs flicking over your nipples gives you a new initiative to begin rocking your hips. You drag your clothed clit up and down his thigh, moaning Ushijima’s name loudly whenever he flexes his muscle.

“Wow, Wakatoshi. Ah, I-“ Your words string together when Ushijima dips his head to kiss your chest. He laps at one of your nipples while still holding your boobs, his tongue licks broad strips on the nub and each flick makes you feel even hotter. Ushijima traces circles around your nipple with the tip of his tongue until it reaches a stiff peak and his hands begin to gently fondle your breasts. Your head snaps back and you arch your chest into his mouth when he finally takes your nipple between his teeth. He gently tugs the nub into his mouth and begins to suck on it, you pant loudly when you see his eyes fluttering shut. It’s like he’s fucking nursing on you.

“T-Toshi,” You whine and Ushijima moans against your flesh before using his tongue once more. Ushijima is smirking, you know that much, you don’t even have to look at him. You continue to work yourself on his thigh, grinding against the flexing muscle as the pleasure builds up in your stomach.

Ushijima pays an equal amount of attention to both breasts, whatever he does to one he does to the other. The noises slipping past his lips cause you to teeter on the edge and you just need a little more to let it all go.

“Cum for me, cum all over my thigh like the dirty little petal you are.” Ushijima sits up so he can tower over you and stare down into your eyes, his fingers pinch your nipples harshly and the action pairs well with his words.

“Wakatoshi, I need you.” You beg and Ushijima simply clicks his tongue.

“What do you mean? You already have me.” His whisper against your ear makes you cry out, your hips dig downwards against his thigh as you jolt at the electric sensation blooming inside of you. His voice alone makes you cum, makes you be reduced to a weak mess, and you absolutely love it.

Ushijima stops playing with your chest and simply goes back to holding it.

You may have created a monster, you’re anticipating to see what will happen when you try to move away. His possessive nature is very much apparent with the way he is still holding on to you like a child with their favorite toy.

“Can I suck you off now?” You breathe against his neck and Ushijima simply shakes his head.

“No, I just want to hold you.” His words nearly cause you to roll your eyes, of course, he does.

“Wakatoshi please, please~” You claw at his chest and Ushijima looks like he is internally fighting with himself.

“What about your back? I don’t want you to get hurt again.” He voices his concerns and you finally realize what it is all about, he really is such a softie.

“Whenever it hurts again, I will come right to you. You did a good job of making me feel better.” You flirt unabashedly and Ushijima smiles gently at the praise. “Let me pay you back for your helpfulness.”

~

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy

[lovehugsandcandy]

(when you never) see the light (n*fw, Colt x MC, RoD)

A/N: So @shondideaira-blog comes up with AMAZING ideas and requested a rewrite of RoD Chapter 16 but with MC getting shot (apologies for the delay and if this isn’t what you were looking for). Title from Rihanna’s ‘Stay’

Length: ~5,900 words

Rating/Warnings: N*FW (warnings out the wazoo- cops, gun shots, injury, blood, hospital, swearing, sex)

Summary:  “... she thinks of nightmares that slide into daylight and then almost the opposite, times like now when the morning sunlight is gauzy and warm and the fears from the dark of night (gunfire and explosions and a scream caught in a throat that won’t open and being left behind by those you love) seem so distant that she knows she can’t return. ‘Colt, come with me.’ He still doesn’t answer, and it’s embarrassing how her voice cracks. ‘Please.’”

.

Her heart beats 63 times per minute.

It’s an average, of course; she’s studied the display, the colored lights flashing each number, vital signs and jagged lines dipping and rising with her movement, her stress level, the all-encompassing terror snaking cold through her bloodstream. By now, she can predict the digits shown stark on the machinery: rolling to her side increases it by a single beat, focusing on every breath decreases it by three, and thinking about that night and the fear in his eyes and the warmth pooling from between her fingers, well, that sends the numbers skyrocketing and the nurses running.

The shrill tone emitting from the machine echoes the hammering in her chest, a constant noise even in the awkward silence stretching into the corners of the hospital room.

“Are you sure you’ll be ok if I…” Her dad pauses and his eyes bore into the side of her head. It’s a conscious effort not to turn her leaden gaze from the tv. “... If I go to work for a bit?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, that’s fine.” 

Her heart rate holds steady, steel will and mental effort holding her annoyance at bay.

Of course he can leave.

He had been there constantly, was at her side when she awoke from surgery, when her vision warped so blurry she had almost mistaken him for another, dark hair floating in and out of her field of vision, a mirage of her deepest desires fading to bitter reality when she realized who was by her side. And then her father had refused to leave her side, sitting in for every visit from the doctor, scrutinizing every movement as they tended wounds and replaced IVs, taking calls stationed outside the door to her room as she watched his shadow pace through the frosted glass. He vacillated between anger expanding coldly through the sterile walls of the hospital room and relief that she was alive seeping into his smile.

“I just want… I want you to be ok.” He pauses and this time, she turns her head, taking in his knuckles paling against the door frame, the lines of his face wrinkled and sallow in the blazing hallway lights. It’s unsaid: he wants things to go back to the way they were.

But they can’t. They never will. There’s no looking back, ever; the world has changed too much for that, and the only path is forward.

Her side still hurts, tiny white pills not enough to knock her out but enough to turn the stabbing pain in her abdomen into a dull ache, and she is tired, eyelids heavy from three nights in an unfamiliar bed; the physical pain pales compared to her sadness, bone-deep and weary. He wasn’t asking about that hurt. “I’ll be fine, dad.”

She almost wasn’t fine.

.

The barrel of the gun was dark, looming large before her, a sinister circle ready to engulf everything in its path the longer she stared. It was mere seconds, but it felt like hours as she stood, frozen. She couldn’t pull her eyes from the metal; she knew Jason was holding the gun, her high school looming somewhere behind him, her car in shatters behind her, and her friends in the periphery in various states of horror, but the gun consumed her entire field of view.

Would she ever step foot inside this very school again?

There was movement, somewhere behind Jason, Mona, god, Mona was trying to interrupt.

Would she even graduate?

And Colt’s voice echoing to her right, a yell, too far away to help, but close enough to hurt.

God, would she ever see Colt again?

The light was first, a flash, a bright flicker in the inky black night, dancing hauntingly by Jason’s thumb.

Then sound, the crack echoing in the parking lot, bouncing about until she was disoriented, not knowing where one rapport ended and the next began.

And then the pain.

“Ellie!” 

More noise. A scream. Was it her? 

A fight. 

It couldn’t be her; she was looking at the sky, the endless night above, even the streetlights growing darker with every blink of her eyes.

“Ellie!”

The parking lot was cold beneath her. She couldn’t feel it through her leather jacket (red, red, everything was red) but her bare hands traced the pebbles below, uneven and jagged.

Everything hurt.

“Ellie!”

Another scream, the squeal of tires. Someone was pulling out (was she at the sideshow?), rubber burning, caustic and sour as it reached her nose. The engine roar faded, softer in the distance (was she racing?), replaced by movement around her (if she was racing, she was losing-the world was spinning, but she was immobile).

No. Her side… something burned, flaming hot, pain radiating up her side with every choking inhale.

She grimaced and lifted her hand, pressing it to her side, wince deepening. Her side hurt, sharply, as her fingers prodded a gash. It was hot, whatever it was (not skin, not anymore), and there was something liquid on her fingers, tacky, warm.

A cold sweat covered her body; she could feel its path tracing her hairline where the salt burned glass-torn wounds. She wanted to wipe it off, dig out some shards digging into her skin, but every move was draining, labored.

She bit her lip. 

“Fuck, Ellie!’

Iron flooded onto her tongue, metallic, sharp. A few stars fought their way through the smog and the thin cloud layer overhead; streetlights shone in the parking lot. 

Everything else was darkness.

Except for the red smears on her fingertips.

“Ellie!” Colt entered her field of view, suddenly, eyes wide and panicked. “Are you--- fuck?”

“I…” Everything hurt, God, her stomach felt like… like she had been shot. “Colt? What- what happened?”

“You…” His fingers trembled as they trace her face. “Ellie, you’re gonna be ok. We just gotta…” He looked down at her stomach and his hands pressed into her side, warm and far more comforting than the tears welling in his eyes. “We just gotta…”

Logan dropped to his knees at her other side. “Troublemaker… God…” Mona appeared behind him and even her eyes were wide, face pale.

A siren pierced the night.

She reached up; her fingers shook, and she was tired, oh so tired, but she forced her hand to rise until she cupped Colt’s cheek, thumbing at the moisture trickling over his skin.

He choked out her name, and she dropped her hand. A path of blood, a dark and foul smear over sharpened cheekbone, remained. 

“We need… we need to get you out of here.” His voice shook.

She nodded, pushing herself up to her elbows, wincing when even the simple motion hurt.

“C’mon, Troublemaker.” Logan slid an arm around her waist, nudging his shoulder under her arm. “Can you get up?”

She nodded, wrapping her other arm around Colt’s shoulders. He was trembling slightly, lips in a tight white line, but he folded in next to her, taking her weight as her feet found the pavement. Her knees buckled, but the boys held firm and, though she swayed, she stood, hunched and weak. “I’m ok.” In the distance, the siren screamed louder, closer.

“You’re not,” Mona said, eyes assessing her wound. “You need to go to the hospital.” 

She nodded; she obviously did. The pavement was tilting under her feet, and she had to focus to take in the parking lot. “Where’s Shaw?”

“Took off like a pussy.” Mona crossed her arms over her chest. Ellie let out a smile; at least the plan was working.

Colt curled his fingers over her hipbone. “Come on.”

“No.” Ellie shook her head, and the pavement swam in time with her movements. “The cars.”

“What? Ellie… we gotta… who cares? You…” She could sense it, the moment he looked down to see the blood spreading over her shirt. “Ellie…” Colt reached out, fingers visibly shaking now, to gently touch her side. Even through the fabric, they came away wet and glossy red. “Ellie, we gotta…” He stared at his hand, at the fingertips damp with her blood. “We gotta…” The siren was speeding on the highway now; they were running out of time.

“Colt.” She touched his cheek, smearing the blood even more. “We need a plan. We gotta get the cars out of here, your bike. We need to move.” He blinked at her and she tipped forward, to where he opened his arms at the last possible second, landing against his chest. They were both covered in blood now but it didn’t even matter, nothing mattered but finishing this last ride. His arms wrapped around her waist and she couldn’t even pretend anymore, just let him hold her up, fully, legs weak and unresponsive. His arms still shook. She tilted her head up, right against his ear, and whispered, “Colt, we need a plan. And I can’t… we need a plan.”

Because that was the meaning of partnership, of trust and support and love. When one person fell, the other was there to catch them. And while it was Colt physically holding her up, she was there to make sure he didn’t collapse either.

When he blinked again, his eyes opened clear. “Logan, get in your car and get out of here.” He balanced her against his own body to fish keys from his pocket, tossing them over to her without pulling his eyes from Ellie’s. “Mona. Take my bike. I’ll contact you later with where to stash it.”

Ellie smiled, head lolling against his chest. She could rest now that someone else was in charge.

“Open your eyes.” His voice was harsh but, when she opened them, she could only read concern in his wide gaze. “Stay awake. We gotta go. Walk.” 

And, one foot in front of the other, she did.

~~~~~

Despite her dad’s concern, she’s fine. 

After the surgery and the stitches and the unrealized fear that she might lose part of her liver, she had been fine. She had watched tv, avoided conversation with her dad, and reached for the comforting bottle whenever her side ached.

The meds, chatter of the pills ricocheting in her palm, helped ease her physical pain.

If only all pains were as easy to soothe.

She has just reached for the cannister when the door creaks open; she rolls her eyes, again. It had barely been 10 minutes. “Dad, I’m-” The word dies in her mouth as she turns to the door “-fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cuz I’m offended. I think you definitely need your vision checked.”

“Colt…” It’s not even speech; she breathes the word out in an exhale that makes her ribs twinge. “How did you get in?” The sheets shift underneath her as she struggles to sit, letting out a small groan as her side throbs before she’s finally up, watching him edge closer, hands in his pockets and dark circles haunting his eyes.

“What do you mean?” he scoffs. “You think I can’t get access to a fucking hospital room?”

“My dad- he’s been here the whole time, he just left.”

“I know.”

She shakes her head. “What happened? I don’t really…”

“You got shot. Remember that?”

“Oh my God, yes, I remember that.” He’s close enough to touch now, out of place next to the IV machines and constant beeping, leather and smirk tangible and real amidst the white-walled sterility; she pulls him closer, finger tucked into the cuff of his jacket. “What about everyone else? Logan? Mona? X and Toby? Is everyone ok?”

Colt shrugs, easing down next to her to perch on the hospital bed. “They’re fine. Logan’s on his way to Detroit. Mona’s halfway across the country. And X and Toby both went to Oakland.”

“My dad told me Jason got arrested.”

“He did. Your plan worked.” The smile stays small, but Ellie can see the pride and relief shine through. “Not an eye for an eye, but…”

She threads her fingers through his, her thumb tracing calming circles even though he also carries pain impossible to soothe. “It’s good enough. You need to live, Colt. Not be haunted by what’s behind you.”

“I can’t dream, El?”

“You have better dreams than vengeance.” In the hospital room lighting, his every feature is stark, cheekbones sharp over the hollow sloping to his jaw. He looks proud and pensive and defeated, all at once; though her side twinges when she leans over, it’s secondary to the ache in her heart. “Colt?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to go home.”

He surveys the tube still running into her arm, the pills at her bedside. “You sure that’s such a good idea?”

“Yeah. I can’t stay here anymore.”

“I don’t think they are ready to discharge you. You kinda look like you got shot recently.”

“I’ll go AMA, I don’t care?” She pressed the call button.

“You’ll go what?”

“Against Medical Advice. They can’t trap me here.” She jabs it again, frantically; a plan is forming. Finally, the fear and boredom and monotony of the hospital are being replaced, and she’s floating on something that feels implausibly like hope. “Meet me out front.”

He studies her, for so long she wonders if her demand is too presumptuous, and then he breaks out into a grin. “You’re sexy when you’re bossy.”

“Even in a hospital gown?”

His fingers trace the tie at her neck. “Especially then.”

“Really.”

“Easy access.” His eyes gleam, fluorescent shine of the hospital room reflected in beautiful black, and she’s sure his excitement is mirrored on her own face.

“Oh, my God. Just meet me downstairs, you’re my getaway driver.”

He stands, mattress creaking underneath her, and rocks back on his heels. “You sure about this?”

“I have never been more sure about anything.”

When she emerges into the brilliant LA sunshine, he’s leaning against a dark sedan, sunglasses on and every inch the cocky mastermind she remembers. She falls into his arms, replacing antiseptic and sterility with every inhale of motor oil and aftershave.

“No motorcycle?”

“Are you already forgetting you were shot?”

As if she could ever. “I want to go home,” she murmurs into his tee.

“Whatever you want.” He opens the door, eyes hidden by shades, but his shoulders tense. “We can drop you there.”

“No.” Her hand on his forearm stops him and he turns, eyebrow raised. “I want to go home with you.”

His lips against hers are hard, demanding, hand twitching toward her hip but then settling against her jaw, cupping her close as she nestles closer, relieved sigh as she feels her muscles relax for the first time in days.

As they accelerate away, she’s glued to his side, nestled in leather, and the sunlight blinding outside the windshield adds to the warming calm in the backseat.

~~~~~

She couldn’t tell if it’s pitch black outside… or if it’s the back of her eyelids.

“Ellie, eyes open. Now.” Oh. She opened her eyes, dome light illuminating the car interior where Colt was reaching over to buckle her seat belt, nudging the strap away from her side. “You gotta stay awake.”

“Yeah.” She nodded but her eyelids were so heavy, falling closed even when she struggled them awake, and he kissed her, hard, desperate. She kissed back, lips weak but sure, revived in the dead of night.

He slammed the door, sprinting around the car to leap into the driver’s seat, throwing the car in drive and shutting his own door simultaneously. The sirens were blaring now, she could see the blue and red flashing through the night, reflecting off the sterile concrete of the school, and Colt gunned it through the parking lot, the world flying by as he maneuvered onto the street and into the night.

“You’re gonna be ok, you hear me?”

She hummed, watching him change gears. When he drove to her driver’s test, she remembered how confidently he drove, experienced hands easy around the wheel, but now those same hands were moving fast, almost frantic as the speedometer flew higher.

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?” Her eyelids were so heavy.

“Tell me about Langston.”

“What?” Her head rested against the leather as she squinted at him. “Why do you… What?”

“I want to keep you awake and it’s all I got right now,” he responded, chuckling darkly.

“I… Langston.” In truth, she had barely thought about Langston in weeks. “It’s the best college out east. And I was lucky to get in. I always wanted to go there and now…”

“Now what?”

“Am I even gonna go?”

“You’re gonna go.” His hand gripped her knee. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna go...“ He moved his hand to downshift as they maneuvered through traffic, but it landed on her leg immediately after, strong and sure. “You’re gonna do great.”

“No. No, you don’t understand.” She sighed. “I don’t know if I… I’m not ready for this to end.”

“For what to end?”

She felt the moisture spilling from her eyes, streaking down her cheeks. Of course she was going to Langston, it was all she wanted, and yet. “I don’t want to leave you.”

He had nothing to say to that, no smart reply; he only squeezed her knee and headlights flashed by, interrupting the night sky that encroached into her darkening vision.

“I just… I don’t want to go back to how I was before.”

“You won’t.”

“Are you just saying that because I now have a hole in my stomach?”

“Christ, El… Gonna be a hell of a scar.” 

The tires squealed as he pulled a left, sign declaring the Emergency Department brilliantly red above them. “Gonna be a hell of a story.” She shifted uncomfortably as they pulled to a stop; she could see a smattering of doctors and police officers inside the glass doors when she peeked over.

“Our story’s not over yet, El.” Her tears are pouring out now, stream turned to a river, and they slipped through his fingers as he cupped her face in his hands. “It’s not.” His voice was harsh, sure, and it made the tears even worse.

“I have to go.”

He unbuckled his seat belt. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“No.”

“What do you-”

“See those cops?” He glanced behind her, still cradling her cheeks, and his gaze darkened. “This is something I need to do on my own, Colt.”

“Ellie.”

“I can’t have you get arrested, I-I can’t.”

His lips turn down, his own eyes welling, glistening in the red glow. She pushed forward, as much as she could through the pain, because she might die from her wound but she couldn’t live without threading her fingers through his hair, kissing him with every ounce of trust and surety and love she had been gifted in return.

And then she steps out of the car alone.

She doesn’t look back. She can’t. Even the tiniest glance behind her would make her disappear, Euridyce vanishing in the dawn; a mere turn of her head would force her to stay, compel her to fall into his arms and flee into the night, and her blood would spill rivers onto Mona’s leather interior.

By the time a nurse rushed over, she was bawling, sobs pouring from her mouth, blood ground into the lines of her palms and the tears painting watery pink paths down her forearms.

She shook her head when they asked how badly it hurt.

She couldn’t feel a thing.

~~~~~

The nightmare shocks her awake.

It’s her first night of freedom and it’s quiet, still, the light of the moon replacing the flash of gunfire behind her eyelids, soft exhales beside her replacing the exhaust of a Santagata speeding away.

She can still see her father’s face, stern and disappointed and angry, so angry, when she struggles to sit up, wincing at the flash of pain radiating up her side.

“Mh? Wass… El?” Colt turns under the sheet, hand grasping at nothing until his fingers find her arm, wrapping around her fragile wrist.

“I’m ok…” His skin is warm where hers is corpse-cold, and she’s obviously not convincing enough because he sits up, the line of heat at her spine not enough to quell her shaking muscles. “Really, I’m ok.”

“You need more of those meds?” he slurs, still half-asleep, and she grins despite herself. He’s been surprisingly great, having her holed up in his temporary apartment, dispensing her painkillers upon request, grabbing the ice cream she wants from the 24-hour store down the block.

Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised.

For all the gruff exterior and snarky bite, he had seen her potential, respected her abilities, challenged her and fought for her and, now, speaks low into her shoulder blade in the pitch-black room, LA haze blocking out the glow of the moon. She can’t see inches in front of her face, can only sense where he is by the crinkle of sheets, the warmth of his skin at her back.

“I’m fine. I… it’s fine.”

He shifts, arm threading around to trace under her shirt, between her breasts, so he can cup her shoulder. “What happened?” She can feel the warmth seeping through her chest; it makes it easier for her to inhale through the terror caught in her throat.

“I…” He waits, shifting so his nose nudges into the curve of her shoulder. “I just saw… I just saw the gun. The flash, when pulled the trigger and I… all I could hear is the crack of the gunshot and I-”

He maneuvers her so she can see his face, barely, white of his eyes framing the darkest of eyes, a flash of white teeth when he mutters her name. “Ellie…”

“And the surgery and days in the hospital room and I didn’t know if I was going to see you again and I…”

His thumb is gentle on her cheekbone, wiping away tears she didn’t even realize were coming. He’s still warm, hand on her face and other palm solid on her back, and she breathes out slowly, heart rate returning to her typical range. “I still dream about my old man.”

“Oh, Colt.”

“I still dream about the bridge, the explosion, and then...” The whites of his eyes flash as he turns his head, sharply. “You. You bleeding out in the parking lot, bleeding through my fingers, and I couldn’t...”

Her fingers find his and squeeze. “What helps?”

“...don’t know yet.”

Her hand on his cheek turns his face back to hers and she has no words, no magic solution, no idea how to overcome the trauma and pain of their shared past. All she can do is bring her lips to his.

Maybe the memories will always be with them, written in scars like the puckering skin on her abdomen, but maybe they can forget, together, to make it through the night.

He responds eagerly, hands cupping her face, trailing down her neck. His thumb traces down her spine and it’s singularly all she can focus on; every nerve ending in her body is so sharply attuned to the callus at the joint sliding inch by inch down her skin that she can feel nothing else, not the sheet pooling around her waist or the contact of her legs against the mattress or the itch and tug of the scab pulling at her skin. It’s so soft, so gentle, and his name falls from her lips, all needy whine and desperate plea, and the flush that covers her skin is sudden, fire hot, spreading down to her toes in a blaze of combustion and if he doesn’t touch her, more, somewhere else, anywhere else, God please, she’s going to explode as a quivering mess in this bed.

He’s gentle, easing her closer to kiss a scorching line down her spine, following the path of his fingers with the fire of his lips. They drag achingly down the sensitive skin of her thinner forearm, up her inner thigh, and it’s somehow more intimate than anything they’ve ever done. She’s already tense, toes curling as his hands make their way under her underwear, and her fingers anchor into his hair as his teeth trace up her thigh.

He avoids her side, where the stitches curl dark into her skin, instead teasing his tongue through her folds, his fingers over her clit; when her vision turns white (not the cold light of gunfire but the warm glow of pleasure and connection and love and lust and freedom), she forgets about her injury, forgets about the hospital, forgets about everything except the strands of hair sliding through her hands and the boy taking care of her in every way that matters.

Sated, she reaches for him as he collapses beside her, straightening her pajamas and tucking a wisp of hair from her face. She’s suddenly exhausted, muscles weak and shaky, but she curves her hand into his t-shirt. The sheets muffle her voice; she wouldn’t be surprised if drool pools underneath her chin, but she’s too tired to care. “Don’t look back.”

“What.”

“Don’t look back.”

“What are you talking-”

“There’s nothing behind us.” If she was going to leave that life behind, she was going to take part of it with her. “Come with me.”

“What? Ellie?”

“Please.”

She doesn’t hear his response; behind her eyes, there’s only darkness (no gunfire flash, no rhythmic beeps). It’s quiet and still and warm, and she sleeps without dreaming.

~~~~~

She could get used to this.

While Colt had taken a few hushed phone calls in the hallway, he was a constant every other second, just in reach, as if his mere presence were enough to protect her from murderous cops and an untimely demise.

A few days into her convalescence, she awakens from a nap, degree by warming degree, curled into his side. Her sleeping schedule has been erratic ever since her frantic discharge escape, and it’s now twilight, golden sunbeams sinking into the horizon behind the highway. Colt is sprawled next to her, playing a game on his phone; she’s curled into his side, eyes blinking open against soft cotton grey, and he drops a kiss on her forehead when she stirs.

“How are you going to sleep tonight?” he asks, smirking through every word and dropping his cell onto the bed. “It’s almost 8. You’ve slept all day.”

“Dunno. Count sheep?” she murmurs against his chest. “Count stars?”

“No stars in LA.”

She mumbles some reply, unintelligible and low. While she was regaining some of her strength, it was a slow improvement; she still generally felt weak and worn. She would have no trouble sleeping. 

“Count headlights,” he continues and she tilts her head to watch the white lights fly over the road, glittering diamonds slicing through the horizon. 

“Is that what you do?”

He shrugs. “It’s all there is to see.” His fingers thread through her hair, avoiding her forehead where cuts from barreling over the overpass still sit open and obvious along her hairline, but gently tracing down to her back, hands gentler than they have any right to be, belonging to a wanted criminal on the lam from the LAPD. It’s rhythmic and calming, and she wants nothing more than to stay in this bed forever.

“There’s headlights in New York.” She holds her breath. She hadn’t asked again since the nightmare, too terrified of the reply to broach the topic.

“Lots of them.”

She hazards a glance up; to her surprise, he is staring right at her, eyes soft, cautious. He swallows, Adam’s apple tightly bobbing, and nibbles his bottom lip. “Colt, please.”

He glances away, out the window; he doesn’t answer, doesn’t promise anything, and she tightens the arm draped over his chest. The headlights still glow, bright white cutting through the city landscape, and she watches them as the twilight slides into darkness.

~~~~~

Even though she gets stronger, she still makes him help her, pouting through simple challenges like carrying grocery bags or reaching high shelves. He grumbles through it, but she can’t hide her smirk when he obliges regardless.

(Tougher challenges, like holding her after nightmares that leave her quaking, those are done without complaint and the gratitude gets stuck in her throat, lodged against where her heart races at triple the normal tempo.)

When she feels up to it, he needs no persuading to help her shower. He’s surprisingly gentle with her hair, fingers massaging shampoo against her scalp as she mewls piteously, and lathers her body in careful strokes that build heat in her core. His fingers slow as he nears her side, bypassing the bruise beginning to green and the scab that’s beginning to crust about the stitches. His hands avoid the wound noticeably.

“Do you not like blood or something?”

He quirks an eyebrow, droplets raining from his hair. “I’m fine with it. I got shot too, remember?” Her eyes drop to his shoulder. Yes, she remembers and, even if she managed to forget that horrific night, his own scar would remind her, dark mark noticeable against the curve of muscle. “Not as bad as you.”

“Yeah… it’s just… you just seem wigged out at the sight of blood…”

He looks behind her, straight at the shower wall, but she has the sense that he doesn’t see a single white tile square. She sees images in her own mind, flashes of her blood on his fingertips in a shadowy parking lot, his father’s blood a morbid trail across the garage. “I don’t like seeing the blood of people I care about.”

Well, she doesn’t have an answer to that. She can only reach up, wet hair sliding through her fingers, to pull him down, closer, until they’re sharing the same breath and his lips consume hers with practiced ease. He backs her against the wall, so gentle, as if she were spun glass, fingers tender about her waist even though his lips capture hers insistently.

They kiss with abandon, making out until the steady stream of water cools, turning tepid, and then cold, and then he interlaces their fingers together to pull her out of the shower. By the time they get out of the bathroom, they made a weak attempt at towel drying, but her back is still wet as he lays her down against the sheets.

But the sensation of water cooling is quickly replaced by others.

And the only flashes of light are stars behind her eyes.

And the only sound is his muttered curse, harsh fingertips digging deep into the muscles of her ass.

And when she trails fingertips over his cheekbone, only sweat remains.

~~~~~

He makes her breakfast, too.

It’s only a few days before she’s scheduled to head east, and it looms large on her mind. She requests pomegranate seeds and yogurt, granola and a drizzle of honey, something fancy and annoying just to see him fluster.

“Seriously?”

“Please, Colt?” She bats her eyelashes, burrowed under blankets, and he huffs, throwing on a shirt before trudging to the store. 

She giggles when he cuts into the fruit; it’s going to stain the cheap formica counter, but he apparently doesn’t care, hacking into the pomegranate skin with a paring knife and cursing under his breath.

“This is such a pain in the ass.”

“Remember when you said I could have anything I wanted.”

He raises an eyebrow. “We were in bed, sweetheart. I wasn’t asking for a meal plan.”

“Well…” She gingerly steps against the counter and stands on her tiptoes, testing her side. When there’s no pain, she hops up to sit next to the bowl with only a slight grimace. “This is what I wanted. I wanted you to make me breakfast.” Triumphant, she pops a seed into her mouth.

His gaze drops to the fruit in front of him as he shakes his head ruefully. She watches the sculpted biceps move as he separates the seeds from the pale flesh, dropping them into her yogurt. There are easier ways to cut the fruit, taught by her mother over quiet breakfasts even more precious in retrospect, but watching him bite his lip in concentration, she keeps the information to herself.

She’s so focused on the tip of his tongue between his lips and the bicep shifting under his tee that it takes a moment to realize that he stands frozen beside her. “Colt?” His gaze is fixed on his hand, and she leans close to look over. Eyes haunted, he’s staring at a pomegranate seed, smashed against his finger; it takes her a moment but, at this angle, it looks like blood, a red smear staining his thumb, an eerie jarring flashback to blood on his hands. 

She doesn’t even think, only reaches over to drag her teeth across the fleshy pad of finger, sucking the sweet juice onto her tongue. When his gaze flits to hers, heat rises in her cheeks.

“What?” He doesn’t respond, and she thinks of nightmares that slide into daylight and then almost the opposite, times like now when the morning sunlight is gauzy and warm and the fears from the dark of night (gunfire and explosions and a scream caught in a throat that won’t open and being left behind by those you love) seem so distant that she knows she can’t return. “Colt, come with me.” He still doesn’t answer, and it’s embarrassing how her voice cracks. “Please.”

“Ellie…”

“You don’t need to stay here. There’s nothing good here for us.”

“I’m not running. I’m not gonna run from anything.”

“What if you ran towards something instead?”

“Like what?” There’s a pomegranate juice smear bright against his cheekbone, a reminder of her hands on him, a mark that won’t scar but is permanent, regardless.

“...A new future.”

~~~~~

Breakfast with her dad is as awkward and stilted as she feared.

He makes the Ellie Special, and she crams forkfuls of waffles in her mouth as they try and fail to find any safe topic of conversation, past bond cleaved, strained silence left behind.

Even though his fear for her life had tempered his fury, he still saw her as a songbird, resigned to a gilded cage to sing on command and lead a life of clipped wings.

But she learned what she could do - chase dreams and fly high and soar into a new life with its own scars and tears and triumphs.

She walks out the door with a plate of food and a promise to call. When he shuts the front door, it sounds like the closing of a book, her childhood written and read, its last few months unsatisfactory in her father’s review.

When she thinks about it, she wouldn’t have changed a thing.

She plops into the driver’s seat and takes a deep breath, hands tight around the steering wheel, watching as the curtains drift shut. Away from her father’s prying eyes, head in her hands, she lets it out, tears pouring through her fingers, tears of joy, of heartache, of hope, of wonder... and of love.

Then, she reverses out of her driveway, smoothly popping the clutch into first as she heads to retrieve the motorcycle jockey whose calloused hands hold her heart.

It will take days to make it out east.

They had better get started.

There’s nothing but the open road ahead and they get to speed along, together.

And, at dawn, the sun peeking over the interstate is wholly brilliant, warm and peaceful, every single day.

.

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Colt

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[hooniee]

 — ꒰‧⁺paris run away  *ೃ༄

↷ heeseung x reader ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷genre: fluff | comdey ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ warnings: not proofread | none! ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ synopsis: (y/n) just graduates from high school and feel incomplete but doesn’t know what’s missing. a trip to paris might be able to fix that ⋯ ♡ᵎ 

↷ author note: this is @enhypenwriters​ event of the month! strangers to lovers <3 i think this was my favorite to write out of the three pieces but i feel like it’s lacking some flare :( i think it still turned out okay though. i hope you enjoy <3 ⋯ ♡ᵎ

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*

you should have listened to sunoo when he said that it wasn't a good plan to travel to a foreign country on impulse.

you wouldn’t say you’ve ever been the most courageous person in your life. determined to break that trend, you planned this super out of the blue trip without much thought.

yeah. maybe this was a bit TOO courageous.

you didn't comprehend what compelled you yet here you were, arriving at paris charles de gaulle airport.

you stared at the large windows of the airport, viewing the plane that you had just left.

the gate for the concluding passengers had been locked by the flight stewardesses.

one of the stewardesses obtained eye contact with you, before shooting a smile and lightly bowing her head.

you absentmindedly returned the gesture, mind elsewhere.

bustling throughout the airport were people hurrying to their connecting flight or slumping into their lover's arms

people carried two or more suitcases with various bags strapped on their bodies, nothing on you besides a petite sling purse and one small carry on suitcase.

as weaved your way through the mass of stressed travelers, you briefly thought to yourself

how the hell did you get here?

2 days earlier

clusters of kids outfitted in blue gowns and caps could be recognized a mile away.

the graduation from high school to university.

your friend minji encloses her arm around your shoulder, your arm resting on her waist.

minji’s mom was stood in front of the both of you, gesturing wildly as she tried to take the ‘perfect graduation photo’ as she had put it

"okay pose! get a little closer, perfect. 1, 2, 3"  your friend's mom counts.

the camera shudders which creates a beaming light to flash, eyes faintly twitching.

shrieks could be heard throughout the campus as girls queued up to take their final photographs with the popular guys.

minji's mom draws back the camera and we check the picture.

"it's cute," minji exclaims, peering at it a bit more closer. you nod your head in approval.

you would miss minji, one of the friends you could constantly count on in math class when you neglected to do your homework from binging korean dramas.

"i'll send you the picture later (y/n)! don't forget about me alright? you have my socials and you can always talk to me," minji grasps your hands

you smile, feeling sad at the departure of your best friend, "of course minji, don't forget me either"

"i could never," she brings you into a secure hug.

"sweet pea perfume," you say and she chuckles. sweat pea was minji's preferred perfume and you would miss that aroma.

"i have to go now, but i'll see you around okay?" minji says.

you could notice tears well up in her eyes and she fans her eyes to prevent the tears.

"don't cry ji, i'll start crying," you joked. "i live near here and you can always visit me! my door will always be open."

she smiled, "the same goes for you." her mother shouts her name before she has to go.

"alright, see you around," you wave to her as she leaves.

on the opposite side of the garden, your mom signals to you with your bouquet of red roses in hand.

"are you ready honey?" she asks you and you smile, nodding your head.

the car ride was in pleasant quietness, light radio music fluttering in. you had taken off your cap and laid it in the car seat next to you accompanying with your bouquet. 

you had glimpsed outside to see your campus still arranged with your classmates, beaming and posing for additional pictures.

you bitterly smiled. 

for the first time, graduation didn't appear like one of those liberating scenes of a movie,

1 day ago

you sprawled on his bed, staring straight up. a fan in your hand, fanning the perspiration that threatened to come.

your eyes match the fan's speed directly above your neighbor and best friend, sunoo's, bed.

his air conditioner was broken. with the avail of those elementary paper fans and the only fan stationed in the house, you were able to find comfort

you questioned if he ever got frightened of it dropping on him when he slept.

sunoo occupies the bathroom that's joined to his room, applying some light powder.

your mind strays, more thoughts simmering in the back of your brain. you sigh for the 10th time and sunoo being exasperated, allows out a loud groan. 

it draws you out of your daze and you snap your head towards him."

"what is with you? what is on your mind sunshine?" he shuts his cushion, flinging himself on the bed.

"are you ever scared of the fan falling on you?" you felt the bed dip

"no, it's been like that for years, and don't change the subject. what's wrong?" sunoo retorted 

"what makes you say that? i'm fine, " you answer

"uh-huh," sunoo rolls his eyes

it's the blatant eye-roll rather than the hushed one, he implied business

"you've been sighing for the past ten minutes, spill," sunoo says

of course, sunoo could recognize your distress. what sort of best friend would he be if he couldn't distinguish your emotions?

you huff, " okay then"

"i don't know why but i just feel stuck? i just graduated high school and nothing feels different, i mean it doesn't have to, but what do i do now? maybe i just watched too many movies"

sunoo tsked, " (y/n). sweetie, i graduated last year and i'm still stuck here. i do nothing besides go out or stay in my room. no in-between."

"but you have something sunoo. you have a bunch of your friends, you're an instagram star and i don't know, it's just different, "

it was accurate, sunoo was extremely popular. he had a bunch of friends and acquaintances from being the vice president. 

sunoo inflated up on social media for his content from makeup to dance practices, a versatile instagram star.

you conceal your face with your hands before emitting a loud groan.

sunoo remarks, "i don't know how i can help you (y/n)? maybe you should try to rest a bit"

"easy for you to say, you, who isn’t dealing with a mid-life crisis, " you whine.

"this isn't a mid-life crisis, this is a post-graduation crisis which is totally normal. how about going out of town? obviously not to paris or whatever but maybe, what was her name again? minjoo's town!" sunoo suggested.

"obviously not to paris"

"not to paris"

"to paris"

"paris"

what about paris? paris was considerably away from your town and had a ring on the tip of your tongue. 

you had sprung up, grasping sunoo by the shoulder and shaking him, "you're a genius sunoo! paris is a genius idea."

sunoo's eyes widen and he shakes his head while attempting to pry your hands off of him.

"no, you have to think rationally-"

you released sunoo from your hold which let him stabilize his spinning head.

"and i am! i need something new. being in this town for my whole life makes me realize, maybe i just need a spontaneous trip. "

your words scarcely blur together, adrenaline rushing through your blood as you understood this could jolt you out of your post-graduation slump.

"but-"

"no buts! pass me my laptop,"

present-day

you are currently disliking your choice, anxiety rushing through your veins, but it's too overdue to have other opinions.

you had landed in france and this was a life-altering moment; a chance of a lifetime.

peering nearby, you squint at the tiny english translations of the signs. you pull out your phone.

you open up the camera to see if zooming in would improve it for your eyes. as if on cue, your stomach rumbles vaguely making you startled.

you panicked as the pocket that was previously supplied with snacks became loaded with empty wrappers.

maybe if you would be lost in this wonderful city, you might as well try some of their famous pastries.

your muscles had retracted, the result of finally getting some movement after being restrained in a metal machine that was adjacent to the fiery sun.

you stumbled across this petite bakery and enter, sparingly bowing your head. 

the owner was an older lady with her greying hair that designed it to resemble ashy highlights, pulled into a loose bun.

"que puis-je vous offrir?" she smiles.

"i'm sorry, i don't speak french?" you admit, embarrassed

as much as you assumed duolingo and rosetta stone could benefit you on a flight to paris, the only thing you could accomplish to say without messing up is "bonjour"

"that's fine mademoiselle! what can i offer you?" the lady shifts to englsih

you let out a sigh of relief, appreciative for blundering into this bakery.

"may i have your most popular pastry to go and a water bottle?" you smile, fishing out some euros.

you had looked down to the currency that you had exchanged before embarking on the plane.

"of course mademoiselle!" she says, reaching behind the counter and with her gloved hand, seizing a chocolate croissant.

"that will be 4.12 euros!" she rings you up in the cashier.

"is this the right amount? i'm not very good at counting euros," you revealed your hand where the money was.

she nodded her head and took the money, printing your receipt out. before giving you your receipt, she interviews you with a question that you weren't confident in answering"

"if you don't mind me asking, why are you here in france? not to sound rude! but i'm just curious"

you softly smile, sensing the kindness illuminating from her tone of voice. she wasn't rude at all and she was asking a simple question, but your brain struggled to obtain an answer.

"well, i would say i'm here to explore?  i just finished high school and life felt incomplete. my best friend jokingly said "go to paris" and so I booked a ticket."

you look back up at her to see her delicate gaze. the rustling of the paper bag stopped the moment of silence

"that's amazing mademoiselle! france is the city for that. you must visit the notre-dam cathedral while you're here, it's beautiful. and maybe even find some love?"

she winks at you and you engage with a small giggle.

just like the show "emily in paris," you could merely fantasize about living a life like hers but it was an altered universe. she was an employed woman and you; a fresh graduate from high school.

"maybe! but i'm not looking forward to dating right now"

it wasn't a lie nor the truth. you would love to date someone right now but dating someone from a foreign country with a language barrier? not the most desirable idea. the owner laughs, handing you your pastry and water bottle.

"thank you for dropping by here mademoiselle! please enjoy your time in france,"

"merci beaucoup" you stumbled out, providing a small wave out.

the airport seemed to be more crowded than before. slowly opening the wrapping, you take a bite of the chocolate croissant and let out an audible gasp.

unquestionably, one of the greatest pastries you have tried in your life.

you promptly pull out your phone, snapping a picture for your instagram story. it was an adorable picture with the bakery in the background with the chocolate croissant in hand.

with "just landed" as your caption, you posted it to your close friends story. almost a second later, sunoo request to video call you.

you were welcomed by a piercing shriek into the phone.

"YAH I WAS JUST GREETED BY YOUR PARENTS WHO SAID YOU WERE AT A SLEEPOVER FOR A COUPLE DAYS? SLEEPOVER MY FOOT? YOU'RE IN PARIS-" 

sunoo screeches over the phone and you timidly grimace, turning down the volume as people begin to stare.

"sunoo, i'm currently in a public airport with no earbuds plugged in, can you please STOP screaming?" you whispered audibly to him.

"OH, I FORG- sorry," sunoo sheepishly responds.

"my parents would never let me go this far so i just had to lie that i was going to a sleepover at minji's house which is out of town. plus i'm only going to be here for two days," you consult him.

"you saw me buy the tickets sunoo. why are you scolding me now? shouldn't you have tried to stop me while i was in the middle of buying the tickets?" you added.

"well now i want you to come back, who am i supposed to hang out with for the next 2 days?" 

though it was dark in the setting sunoo was in, you could practically see his pouting face.

"you could hang out with jake? or sunghoon? aren't they both your friends?"

jake and sunghoon went to the same school as sunoo and you're buddies with them. you've known each other since middle school but jake and sunghoon were always closer to each other just like you and sunoo.

"jake and sunghoon hyung are busy on a vacation together in the bahamas"

you stifled a laugh in, "good luck being alone for the next two days."

"not funny (y/n)! besides that point, what if you get caught?"

"don't worry, i won't get caught because you're the only one who knows about this .as long as you don't rat me out sunoo," you scowl at him.

"i won't, i won't, i promise but you have to buy me something? deal?”

you roll your eyes, "deal mr. sunoo-shi, i have to go now. i need to try to find my hotel"

"be safe, love you!"

"i will! love you too"

you sulk after the call ends. without your best friend on your side, you felt a little feeble and lost but it's not time to be pondering like that. 

paris awaits and you couldn't linger at the airport the whole day.

first challenge 

getting to your hotel was a struggling. wandering around a city with no basis of the language besides "hello" and "thank you so much", didn't do enough for you.

first, you had to find a taxi that could converse in english. most people had turned you down as you couldn't speak french.

thankfully, it was a fortunate day and you met this kind lady who had coffee-colored curly locks, gentle chocolate eyes, and light freckles scattered around her face.

"do you speak english?" you crisscrossed your fingers, your legs close to giving out after scrambling for taxi drivers

"yeah, i do mademoiselle! would you like to hop in?" she extended a friendly smile and you had never felt bricks lift off your chest faster.

she opened the back of the taxi and you scouted in, permitting your purse to lay on your lap.

the women examined both directions of the road, looking out for passing cars and entered the driver's seat.

"where are you heading mademoiselle?"

you swiftly pull out your phone to your notes, "hotel le walt paris?"

you corked your eyebrow, making sure it was the right name before she nodded her head. 

"a very famous hotel huh? right near the eiffel tower. i recommend that you wait till it gets dark and sit on the balcony to see the eiffel tower with lights. it's beautiful"

you smiled at the kind words of the lady, "i will surely try that! thank you miss..?"

"elena! elena is fine and you mademoiselle?"

"i'm (y/n)"

"it's nice to meet you"

"likewise"

the entire ride, you felt at some peace finally conversing with someone who understood english,

 after a 30 minute drive, you had arrived at your destination.

feeling a sad departure from this mellow woman, who turned out to be 19 seeking to make some pocket money in the summer, she was one of the first people that you had grown connected with throughout this ride.

"elena, though it was a short time, thank you for keeping company"

you present her with a warm smile as she unlocks the door for you. you exit the taxi, clasping at your phone.

"here, give me your phone."

you softly planted it in elena's hand. you were perplexed about why she showed you your home screen until you realized you had a password.

you enter your password, giving it back to her. she did a bit of clicking and you could see her hands typing something in before returning the phone back to you.

"that's my instagram, stay in contact with me alright?"

you felt the sides of your lips curve into a slight smile. you dragged her into a soft hug.

"thank you elena"

she visibly hesitant before easing into the hug. she softly rubbed your back.

"i have to go, i might get fired if i stay here too long"

you bided her a fare-well. thirty minutes was an extended time to get a know a person.

and that was the first friend you met in france.

second challenge

checking into your hotel wasn't as difficult. most people could speak english and besides the uncanny looks that you received from the clerk, check-in was pretty smooth.

"here you are mademoiselle" the bellman lowers your suitcase in front of your hotel door.

"merci beaucoup,"  you smile and he returns the gesture before leaving you.

you look down in your hand where you are grasping the card tightly. you scan the card against the door meter and it flickers twice. 

red, green

the door clicks before you push on it and reveal your hotel room.

at first glance, your mouth dropped.

the hotel room seemed better than it did on the online photographs which was a rare possibility.

though it was a small room, it was renovated beautifully.

overhead the king-sized bed, there was an extensive painting of the eiffel tower. a blue chair that held a place directly by the bed along with a little wooden table.

the hotel was fine but you definitely weren't

"(y/n) shut down in,"

"3"

"2"

"1"

before thinking, you throw yourself on the bed having the jet-lag kicking in. the bag offers a 'thump' sound as it connects with the ground.

'ouch that hurt'

you fish through your pocket, pulling out your phone. it was hardly twelve pm and you were already fatigued.

what was your strategy? you were in france for two days and you don't have a plan to do anything.

first things first, you needed to sort out this jet-lag.

 1) taking a shower

showers are always a great way to awaken and could shake you from this daze. you endured a scream as your water turned to be ice cold. someone must be utilizing the hot water. that shower unmistakably woke you up

2) skincare

after getting out of the shower, skincare was the secondary way to wake up. cleansing with toner, dropping essence into the skin, and implementing a nice coat of moisturizer to lock-in.

3) fueling with food

food can beat anybody out of slumber if they're fueled with enthusiasm but you didn't have any food on you? that indicates it's time to go out and explore france.

unfastening up your suitcase, you drabble on what you can wear.

reconciling with a simple pair of denim shorts and a light pink tank top, you catch a fast mirror selfie.

being content with the ultimate product, you smile to yourself.

"phone, key, wallet," you whispered, securing the thoughts of having everything. 

everything was arranged to go and it was time to tour paris.

third challenge 

cruising through paris would be by notably the toughest challenge while you were here.

you had your phone to navigate solely with wifi and you couldn't be that favorable to be able to meet people who could speak english all the time. 

you had entered a small restaurant, where you worked to communicate with people in defective french but they moderately understood what you wanted.

after that fiasco trying to order a chicken frricassee, you were able to appreciate your time there along with sending a picture to sunoo who reacted with,

"can that be the souvenir you bring back to me TT?"

you chuckled at the message, knowing typical sunoo, and finished up eating.

eating wasn't the one exclusive thing available in france. there were various activities but you were too afraid to venture any future for the hotel. getting lost too was easy.

that being said, eating after eating all you could do was roam around the city. it was around 2pm and you could spot a diverse crowd of people.

you could see kids. in uniforms that just got out of school or a cute couple that was experiencing their date.

you slightly squint and cover your eyes as the sun is at its highest point.

yes, paris was lovely and you would prefer to travel more but but you didn’ toriginally have a plan

for a couple of hours, you completed wandering around the area where your hotel is. you wished at moments like this that you would have jungwon, sunoo's friend, with you to help navigate you.

 jungwon was also a friend you guys met in middle school but he went to your school. very mature for his age and great at preparation.

before you knew it, the sun had died down and it was time to retreat to the hotel.

'ah right! elena told me to look out at the eiffel tower as it gets darker'

you softly tread back to your hotel, observing the blisters at the back of your foot.

you could clearly sense the entire day of walking take a toll on your body.

you scan your key card and fling your bag to the floor as soon as you get inside. you open up your suitcase to change into suitable sleeping clothes.

you briskly cleansed your face and tied your hair back.

you had approached the balcony, guessing how to cautiously open the glass door.

you gradually shift the handle to the right and the door made a scanty creek. you gingerly put more stress on it, opening the balcony wide.

a distinct gasp could be heard from you.

subsequently taking a step onto your balcony, the frail breeze made you quiver in the long black tee that adorned your top half and the sweatpants that settled on your waist.

the balcony was small, barely able to move besides staying still.

you had peered to your right, glancing at the eiffel tower.

elena was correct. the eiffel tower was breath-taking at night. for the first time when landing in france, you could feel in harmony. below you was a crowded street.

it was only 8 pm yet you could feel your eyes droop as opposed to the bouncy pair of kids that ran through the moobs of people.

the radiant yellowish glow of the eiffel tower was able to save you from dozing off. you softly hum 'fly me to the moon,'

'fly me to the moon,' didn't have significance, it felt appropriate in the second.

you hadn't regarded it but a figure had gently peeked out of the other balcony, attentively listening to the silky melody that you were humming.

"nice song"

a voice interrupts and your humming had come to a halt, eyes widened.

you had turned to the origin of the voice and discovered the culprit

the balcony alongside you.

"thank you"

you glanced over, granting him a slight smile before he returns it.

"new to paris?"

he questioned, now you guys facing each other.

"yeah, just arrived this morning, and you?"

you asked before he softly smiles.

"not really, i've been here multiple times but the feeling is something i'll get used too."

you hum as a response

"how did you know to speak english to me? do i really act like a foriegner?"

you were growing more drowsy but this stranger was fascinating. who else could say they met someone and talked to them from a balcony romance?

"english song, random guess"

you nodded your head, not certain if he could see you but that was all you could muster up.

there grows stillness beside the bustling street below until the stranger breaks it.

"i know this sounds weird but since you're new here, would you like to go out with me tomorrow to travel the city?"

that question felt like ice water was just splashed onto your face. the proposal startled you. 

the stranger didn't appear like a bad person. been to paris varied times, can acknowledge good music and good at conversation.

as much as this stranger flatter you, how could you trust him?

"as much as i would love to, how do i know that you're not trying to kidnap me, even worse, kill me?"

he stifles a laugh.

"hey knock it off, this is a very serious question, balcony boy"

you snicker, desiring to know the answer than anticipated.

"i promise you that i won't try to kidnap OR kill you. i'm just offering and you can even pat me down before we go out together."

this was by far one of the most peculiar offers you had received but this was THE stranger offer you came to france seeking.

you know sunoo would not advocate for numerous reasons and you can hear his voice already 

"number one, dangerous"

"number two, dangerous!"

"number three, DANGEROUS!"

but sunoo isn't here right now. you chose to grab the opportunity. france had provided you luck today.

"alright then"

a moment of silence goes by before you hear him clearing his throat.

"you're serious right?"

he glances at you and your eyes lock. though you can't see that well due to the absence of light, you nod.

the eiffel tower gave you enough light that you could make our curious eyes, tall nose, fair skin that radiated in the soft lighting, and full lips that were curved into a smile

"i'll see you at the lobby at eight,"

next morning

to say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. you agreed to a stranger who claimed to know paris like the back of his palm. you met him off your balcony and now you were agreeing to go a date with him? 

"you must be out of your mind!" sunoo exclaimed through the phone.

"well yes i must have been at 8 pm last night when fatigue was hitting the hardest but how can i say no now?"

"i don't know maybe, I DON'T KNOW YOU STRANGER DANGER?" sunoo shouts

and like you foretold last night, sunoo was not a big supporter of this idea. over the course of fifteen minutes, you had been continuously scolded by him.

you cringe, " sunoo, i promise that i'll be fine. i just need you to help me pick out an outfit"

sunoo rolls his eyes, "what are your options?"

though sunoo wasn't supportive of this, he couldn't let you go on a date without style.

you held up two choices; a blue floral dress that settled to your mid-thigh and a pink tennis skirt with a white cami shirt.

"well do we like this guy or do we like LIKE this guy?" sunoo questioned.

"what- well i literally met him last night? so i don't even like him, we're just going out for this one day since he offered"

"uh-huh, then the blue floral dress, it's hot there right?" sunoo says

"super hot," you groan.

you glance at the time, 7:00 am.

"i have to start getting ready sunoo, i'll update you later alright?" you smile

"alright, try not to get killed but have fun too! love you"

"love you too," you say back before hanging up.

you quickly hop in the shower and make sure to not take too long.

doing skincare, putting on the outfit, and spraying a little bit of perfume, you are ready to head out the door.

one last check to make sure you have all the things.

7:58 am

you quickly head down to see several people in the lobby.

a bellman, a pair of teenage girls who seemed like they were dragged here, a couple around the mid-40s trying to check-in, and a teenage boy that rested on one of the lobby seats.

it was evident who the balcony boy was but you just called out to be safe.

"balcony boy," you say.

the teenage boy that was seated turns around before flashing you a smile. 

"miss singer,"

you airly chuckle at the nickname.

observing him in person was a lot different. you could see his long body proportion, bright eyes, sharp jawline, with fair skin that complimented his rich brown hair.

a distinct experience from seeing him on the balcony.

"i'm (y/n)! and you?" you ask

"i'm lee heeseung"

[annabethy]

“don’t lie to me” + percabeth if u are up to!!!

“Don’t lie to me.” Percabeth teacher au!! <3

Annabeth couldn’t think of a better way to spend her mornings than with Percy. He was always so sweet and warm when he first woke up, making him the perfect person to snuggle up to in the middle of a New York winter.

The ride to work was no less lovely with her sitting in the passenger seat, a steaming cup of coffee that Percy had made “with love” in her right hand, and her left hand intertwined with his. Watching the snow fall in a comfortable silence was so delicate and magical, and it’s truly the best way to start her day.

As she’s walking into the school with him, hand in hand, she leans closer to him, using his arm as a buffer from the biting wind. Percy just gives her a lopsided smile, something akin to adoration in his eyes, and pulled her into his side. There weren’t many students around this early in the morning, so she doesn’t bother trying to separate herself from him. She doesn’t even know if she could because he’s acting as her personal heater, and that may be too good to give up.

“You look adorable,” Percy comments as he holds open the door to the school. “The red nose really tops off your whole look.”

Annabeth sniffles, trying to subtly wipe her nose with the hand that’s still holding a travel cup of coffee. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m being serious,” he whispers playfully, bumping her arm with his elbow and prompting her to roll her eyes fondly. He guides her through the halls of the front office, reaching for her hand and lacing them back together. “You always look pretty, but right now you look so huggable.”

She can feel the flush still on her cheeks, but she doesn’t know if it was from the cold or his kind words. Almost a year of dating and he still made her feel just as giddy as she did on day one. “I love you.”

“Couldn’t possibly love me as much as I love you,” he quips, but he presses a kiss to her temple before changing the subject. “So, I was thinking. After work, cuddles and a movie?”

“Only if we can get snacks first,” she says, biting her lip in a smile. If there’s anything she loves more than waking up next to the love of her life, it’s getting to spend Friday night with just the two of them. There were no kids to bother them or tests to grade. It was a time for the two of them to just exist with one another, and she cherished every week when she got to go home with him.

“We can stop for snacks, but then we’re watching Finding Nemo.”

“What’s with your obsession with the ocean?”

“I think clownfish are cute,” he answers, because of course he thinks clownfish are cute. “All fish are cute. That’s why I teach marine.”

Annabeth expected nothing less of him, and she decides to humor him. “Did you know I once had two goldfish and I named them Ren and Nephr?”

“Unique names,” Percy says, sidestepping a kid frantically making their way down the hall.

“They both mean kidney.”

“You would, Chase.”

“I also had a fish named Ornith.”

“That means bird,” Percy states.

“I liked the irony,” she tells him, taking a sip of her coffee. It’s still steaming in the cup, and it burns her tongue slightly. “Regardless, I think your obsession with the ocean is alarming.”

“At least I don’t go around screaming law of cosines,” Percy says, pointedly looking at her. “I didn’t even know what that was until you started crying about how stupid they were last week when you were grading papers.”

“That’s because they are stupid, I swear to god. They were all I-don’t-know-when-to-use-law-of-sines-versus-law-of-cosines like it’s hard!”

“I’m sure it’s so easy,” he says, but his laugh gives his sarcasm away. “You just have to accept that you were a fluke in the system, and no one will ever be a smart as you.”

Annabeth smacks him upside the head with her cup of coffee lightly but she’s still smiling. It’s moments like this that really get to her. She could just be herself around him, and they could tease each other but know that they love those things about each other at the same time.

She loved him.

Annabeth bites at the inside of her cheek, loving the way he looks at her out of the corner of his eyes, before she slowly pops the lid of the coffee off to try and get it to cool down faster.

Percy’s arm is snug around her waist, so she doesn’t look up as she continues walking. She blows around the rim of the cup, the steam swirling up in the air. It smells mouthwateringly delicious and it’s starting to cool off, so she brings it to her lips just as they round a corner, and—

Someone slams into them, and suddenly the only thing Annabeth can register is pain.

“Shit.” The scalding coffee seeps through her shirt almost immediately, and her skin feels like it’s on fire. The cup falls from her hand, the rest of the contents splattering on the floor, but she can’t be bothered to care as she tries to break the shirt’s contact with her blistering torso.

“—you okay?”

Annabeth’s mind comes reeling back as Percy’s voice reach her ears, and she can pick up the frantic edge to it.

“Annabeth,” he prompts again, his hand sliding down her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Instead of answering him, she glances to the person cowering in front of her, and her skin is on fire for a completely different reason.

Octavian stares back at her, terror clear as day on his face, and she is about to explode. This kid was always the center of something, causing problems with every single breath he takes. He had no shame, and he always had the audacity to do whatever it is he wants to do, and now he’s ruined her favorite part of the day, and she can’t breathe.

“Octavian,” she says tightly, scrunching her nose in mock politeness. “Did you maybe think it would be a good idea to check where you’re going?”

The kid stammers.

“It would be smart not to go running around the halls and bumping into people carrying hot drinks,” she says, her voice dangerously steady. “God, you’re so—” There’s so much she wants to say, to scream, at him, but even in her heightened sense of rage, she knows she can’t, so she clenches her fist hard enough for her nails to indent her skin and she pauses for a second before she storms off in the direction of her room.

She doesn’t look to make sure Percy is behind her, too busy trying to hold back rising tears, and she really doesn’t know why she feels this way. All she knows is everything was perfect, and now it’s not.

As she unlocks her classroom door, Percy’s hand is settling over the dip in her waist. She steps inside the room, and she doesn’t know what exactly she was going to do except perhaps have a meltdown, but she never got the chance because Percy wastes no time before pulling his sweater over his head and holding it out towards her.

“What are you doing?” she asks miserably, still forcing back her frustrated tears.

“Take it,” he says, gazing at her earnestly.

Annabeth bites her lip, her eyes glossing over. He was too good for her. “I’m sorry,” she chokes out. She doesn’t know how to express what she was sorry for, but she has a feeling he knows.

“Don’t be sorry.” Percy’s arms seek out the bottom of the sweater so he can help her into it. He slides it over her and once it’s on, he reaches forward to tilt her head towards him so he can give her a forehead kiss. “It was an accident.”

“Octavian was an accident,” she whimpers, dropping her head against his chest.

She doesn’t understand why she feels so upset. She just knows that she doesn’t like the hole in the pit of her stomach or the tightness of her throat.

“Why are you so sad?” Percy asks, cupping her cheeks and pouting.

“Today was going so well,” she complains, wincing away from his fingers that go to wipe her tears.

And maybe she does know why she’s so upset. Mornings were her favorite time of day because she got to be with Percy. She got to see him in ways that no one else did and listen to his words that he doesn’t say when anyone else is around. When they’re at work five days a week surrounded by children, he didn’t get to show her affection in the ways he does outside of school. Morning was her chance to see that.

Never had something interrupted those perfect moments before. Not until now.

The moment had been so perfect, so private and loving, and it was destroyed.

“You told me I looked adorable,” she says, sniffling. It was the only way she knew how to explain the torrent of emotions she was feeling. “Now I have a big coffee stain on my shirt, and I look disgusting.”

“You still look adorable.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she chides.

“I’m not lying,” he says softly. “You always look adorable.”

She just drops her forehead back against him pitifully.

“You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” Percy says. “I tell you that all the time.”

“You’re a big fat liar.”

Percy’s lips tilt up in a smile. “I’m not. In fact, you actually look even better right now, all cute and warm in my hoodie.”

Annabeth looks down as though for the first time realizing she was wearing it. It was too big on her, but it smelled like him, the picture of a sunny day at the beach, warm on the sand.

“You’re so so so pretty, especially when you’re wearing my clothes.” Percy’s arms wrap around her squeezing tightly, and she feels secure in his embrace. “Don’t let this ruin your day. Octavian’s stupid. This isn’t new information.”

“But our morning is ruined.”

Percy squeezes her tighter, slightly swaying back and forth. “Lucky for you, it’s Friday. We can go home and pretend it’s morning again and take lots of naps.”

“And watch Finding Nemo?”

“Oh, yes. That part’s nonnegotiable.”

Annabeth’s lips pull up at that as she nestles deeper against him. “I love you.”

Percy’s response is an affirmative hum and a kiss on the top of her head.

So maybe her morning hadn’t gone quite as planned, and maybe she was overreacting just a bit, but there’s always tomorrow, and there’s always their Friday night snuggles.

As long as she has Percy, she figures everything would be alright.