#and 'make beautiful music together' is an innuendo for sex as well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

its-me-im-coraline · 3 years

Text

Little Puppet // Ethan Torchio, Damiano David

words // 4261, i have never written this much in one go my whole life, holy shit

warnings // smut, degradation, sub!reader, name calling (ya know, slut and stuff like that), threesome, oral, no explicit mention of protection, but obvi that's not how it should go in real life, anyways.... thats all i can think right now. has not been proofread

pairing // Ethan Torchio x F!Reader x Damiano David (leaning more to Ethan)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. im going with female reader cause that's how it was requested. here's the smut playlist, def listen to it when you get to the smut part, or the whole time, whatever you want. thanks to anyone who adds songs to the playlist 💘

i feel like i cpupve made it kinkier but at 1 am and with over 4000 words i was a little tired to do that.

request // yes, here

summary // Ethan can not stop thinking of sharing his fwb with his bandmate, Damiano. A thought sparked from a random drunk conversation he had with his best friend will end up with them both pleasing Reader to tears

Experimenting in the bedroom was nothing unusual for Ethan and Y/N. The two had known each other for quite a while, overtaken by attraction but neither was ready for a relationship. Instead the pair opted for a slightly different compromise, one that had no name, no label, for now. While neither had the intention of an actual romantic partnership, it never stopped them from being loving and affectionate towards each other. Neither would ever have to leave before the morning comes.

Thus, as the light shone through his bedroom window, Ethan opened up his eyes, looking at the person laying by his side. Such a beauty, the shy rays of sun laying over the features Ethan so many times observed. It was common to do this in the morning, it would calm him down, especially on the very busy days.

“Anything particular you are thinking of while staring at me, Ethan?” There was no hesitation, no grogginess coming from Y/N’s voice, Ethan realised how he was not the only one awake previously.

“Well, I am, but I am not sure you could handle it,” he responded, smirking down at the laying figure, leaving a few kisses before finishing his reply, “plus, it is too early in the morning for such sinful thoughts.”

“Mhm, as if our endeavours last night were holy,” Y/N laughed, kissing Ethan back, as his lips crushed into hers.

“Well, you were certainly calling god if I recall correctly, cucciola, no?”

Maybe what made this situation not be awkward was exactly the fact that the two were friends. They thrived from the friendly banter, never missed an opportunity to mess with each other. It was just how they were and it worked perfectly to their benefit.

“I can tell it is troubling you, Edgar. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

"It's nothing amore let's just get ready. I'm quite hungry if you must know," he mumbled on her neck, trailing kisses all the way to her lips before abandoning the bed.

“Come on,” he called, ushering the girl to follow him.

Their feet were bare, no clothing no nothing -at least until Y/N pulled a few pieces of clothing for them both to wear- as they walked into the bathroom to start their day. They stood right next to each other as they washed their teeth, washed their faces, fixed their hair and so on and so forth.

“Isn’t that shirt too small for you, dolcezza,” commented Ethan, laughing at his own joke and poking Y/N’s side.

“Eh, well, I can take it off,” she suggested, pulling at the hem of his shirt that she was wearing. That only resulted in a laugh from the tall man, him shuffling her hair and walking out of the bathroom, putting distance between him and Y/N’s complaining about messing up her hair.

After that everything moved quite quickly. Y/N left the cosy home and went to her own house, leaving Ethan with his bandmates to work on their upcoming stuff. She knew how much it meant to him, but she also knew how stressful this career was to him. She always had something small to do to make his days even a little bit more relaxing, of course one of them being their nocturnal activities.

By the time night got around the drummer was sitting at the side of the pool, next to a small table, a beer in his hand as music played in the background. Everyone was doing their own thing: Victoria was swimming, Thomas was preoccupied with a cigarette and his phone and Damiano was sitting on the other side of the previously mentioned table having a conversation with Ethan. It started with speaking about small things before the subject turned more serious.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Damiano had, very early on, caught on his friend’s emotion, he was not very sure that Ethan was aware of his own feelings. It had become a little stupid in the frontman’s mind.

“I am not sure, Dami. She’s great, she is, and we are really close friends but… I don’t know…” Clueless as ever, thought the older man.

“Well, if anything at least you guys have a fucking amazing sex life, everyone can hear,” he laughed out, semi teasing his friend but kind of revaling a piece of information no one had had the heart to tell the tall man.

It caught him by surprise. He was never shy about his sex life, and truth be told he and Y/N never hid their predicament… He simply never thought they were being that loud; maybe that’s exactly the reason he had not understood the others could hear, the reason as to why they were so loud. “Mhm, didn't think you could,” he responded and took a drag of his cigarette.

Damiano copied his action, inhaling his own smoke and releasing it before he decided to say exactly what he was thinking. “Don’t worry about it. I personally don’t mind it, it’s kind of… entertaining.”

If Ethan was surprised before then now he was shocked and blushing. Of course, it was not in his nature to show it, and make this feeling obvious, but he surely had thoughts running through his head now. “So, what? You jack off to us having sex, though about a threesome? What is it?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” said Damiano, looking down at his beer. He was a bit ashamed but at the same time he could not keep his mouth shut, the alcohol overtaking his proper ability to keep some thoughts to himself. “I have to be honest, the noises she makes, they kill me, man.”

Everyone could see the gears in Ethan’s mind turn. On the one hand contemplating his friend’s confession and on the other thinking of all the ways he could punish Y/N for being as loud as she was.“So, if I asked you to join, you’d be in?”

Now it was the frontman’s turn to get shocked and blush, but he certainly could not lie. He would be more than into it, considering the many times he has thought of that, each and every one of them leading to him either taking a cold shower or taking care of himself hoping that it’d be Y/N instead. “Yes, I suppose I would…”

The conversation stayed at that, neither of the two men knowing exactly what to say or do at the time being. Instead they opted to wait it out, see when the proper time comes to bring it up again before deciding on what to do. And that day came soon, sooner than either anticipated.

Y/N had been especially bratty -just maybe two days after the conversation occurred- pushing Ethan to his limit with the teasing, the innuendos and the clothes she was wearing. It was the perfect occasion. A little punishment was in store and the tall man knew exactly how to execute it.

“What the fuck was that?” Ethan’s voice was stern, not nearly close to a yell but authoritative nonetheless, the stoic expression on his face never failing to let Y/N know exactly what he was thinking of: she was going to be fucked, both literally and figuratively, but she was surely into that.

“Such a little slut,” he voiced, pulling the girl to his body, their faces almost touching and their breaths mixing together. A whine left her lips but Ethan was quick to shut it with his words, “you were not complaining when you acted like one, cucciola. In front of everybody as well. Did you see how Dami was looking at you? I’m sure you flashed him at least once all night.”

The girl shivered at what her friend was suggesting, a tingling feeling was taking over her pussy, legs already ready to fail her.

“Maybe he could help me punish you.” These words almost send Y/N in a frenzy. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, an obvious gasp escaping her lips, causing a deep laugh from Ethan.

“You like that idea, don’t you?” She simply nodded her head, mind racing to all the possible outcomes of tonight.

“I need your words, dolcezza. I need your explicit consent to this,” he whispered, holding Y/N’s face in his hands, leaving a kiss just next to her lips.

She softly responded with a yes, voice trembling and low, unable to come out properly. She had gotten probably a little too excited.

“Be a doll and just sit there, yeah. I’m going to go call Damiano. I’m sure he is dying to see how desperate you are to have both of us.” With that the man left the room, presumably going to call his friend over.

When Damiano walked into the room Y/N was violently taken out of her thoughts, the man’s energy overtaking the whole room, his temperament easing any possible worry the girl could have for this situation.

“I’m here dolcezza,” called Damiano, sitting next to her on the bed with the biggest shit eating grin he could possibly have.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami. She’ll be cocky within minutes, we don’t want that.” Always the stern dom he is, Ethan asserted himself over both people in the people. He did not need many words or strong actions to show them who is in charge, a look and his tone were enough to let that be known.

Damiano looked down, in a similar fashion from a few days prior, only this time he was not really shy, more like a puppy that just got yelled at.

“Why don’t you get undressed Damiano, our little puppet over here can not wait to see what you have to offer.” The man mentioned smirked, his confidence reappearing in a second before obliging to his friend’s request.

He decided to play it dirty, going slow, surely attempting to give the little puppet a show. His hands moved slowly, pulling his shirt up and over his head before traveling from his chest to his waist in a seductive way, stopping for just a moment, making sure Y/N’s eyes were right on his own before removing his belt and opening up his pants. In the meanwhile, Ethan had moved Y/N to be sitting on her knees on the floor, in front of the undressing man, eye level with his pants’ zipper.

“Help Damiano, amore. It seems he’s struggling with his pants and you are right where you need to.” She shivered at his words but followed the orders, slowly unbuttoning his pants, her face having moved a little too close -not that it was not welcome- pulling them down and simply gawking at the view in front of her.

She went to move, to please, but her dominating best friend seemed to have other plans.”Not yet, puppet. Come on. This is supposed to be a punishment for you, but we all know how much a cock shucking slut you are. You’ll get his dick but you have more work to do.”

Damiano opposed his friend, already feeling desperate to get whatever he could from the girl below him, dying to feel her lips around his cock, oh and her tongue, oh that tongue he had seen plenty of times devouring ice cream cones in the most pornographic way possible. Sometimes he wished she was in one.

“I think it’s a good start to a punishment, Ethan. She can suck my cocka and then just simply not get it fucking her, yet.” His plan had some practicality to it, knowing very well how much she’d be dying to have a dick buried deep inside her after getting a feel in her mouth.

“I’ll allow it,” said Ethan, starting the process of undressing himself, and looking around the room for anything that could bring more pleasure to everyone involved.

“Well, what are you waiting for, cucciola. Go on, show him how well you blow whistles.” With that the girl wasted no time, pulling Damiano’s boxers down, taking them off him with his help and getting to work. It started off simple, a few pumps at first to get him even harder than he already was (he’d really bet that any man could get hard in seconds seeing her on her knees in front of him, it was a divine view). Her hand was going slowly, her focus on the man’s face, looking up at him all innocently, making sure that his own eyes were on her.

“I am looking at you, dolcezza, don’t worry,” confirmed the man, as if reading her mind.

So, she continued, entirely encouraged to show her best self, to be a good girl for the two men in front of her. Moving on, her hand stayed pumping the man’s cock for a second before her tongue came onto the mix, licking all the way up the curve, a very thick vein getting special attention and then the head. It was already leaking pre-cum, the girl’s antiques driving Damiano insane by the second -and she had not even started blowing him yet. With a push to her head by the singer Y/N really took his cock into her mouth, starting with the head, sucking and bobbing her head a bit, still moving her skilled fingers up and down, with every bob taking more and more of the length reaching a point where she had taken it all. She paused in that place for a second, relaxing her throat, Damiano’s cock resting deep inside her mouth, before she moved in need of breath. The same pattern repeated itself a few more times before the pace got quicker, following the music that was now playing from Ethan’s speaker.

It did not take long for the older man to cum, unexpectedly, in Y/N’s mouth, some delicious sounds leaving her lips and sending vibrations all through his cock, intensifying his orgasm.

“I could have never thought she’s that good, Ethan. Why have you been hoarding her this whole time?” He laughed, all in one breath and blown completely out of his mind.

“Exactly because I know how good she is. But tonight she has been plenty bad, although she’s trying to act all innocent now.”

“I’m a good girl daddy, see?” She questioned, tongue out, showing evidence of her swallowing predicaments, “I took all of it.”

Ethan smiled, looking down to his friend, his big hand holding her jaw and spitting in her mouth as it stayed open. Swallowing that down as well Y/N showed it to the two men, waiting impatiently for the next orders.

No orders came for the time being, Ethan sitting himself on the bed, back resting on the bed frame, opening his legs and motioning for her to sit between them. She clearly obliged, knowing very well that her punishment was already going to be overwhelming but oh so pleasurable and she wanted nothing more.

In all honesty the drummer was played to her needs every time, the punishments being always the outcome she hoped for (except few occasions when she had gotten Ethan so much she ended up edged on for over a week as a punishment, and although the orgasm was spectacular, the wait was torture). Ethan knew it and he was not opposed to it, instead working with the girl’s deviousness.

As she sat between his thighs, back on his chest and palms resting right on his thighs, Ethan used his calves and feet to keep Y/N’s legs spread open, thankful she was wearing a dress and panties that he could easily replace any time he wanted. He prompted Damiano to move between both their legs, face aligned with her pussy, the frontman practically salivating at the sight in front of him.

She had anticipated this night, having bought a cheap but utterly sexy lingerie set online, wearing said lingerie in an attempt to drive Ethan crazy. It was black, with little orange flowers here and there, some lace with mesh material surrounding her pussy, back piece doing little to cover her ass cheeks. Damiano was currently dying at the, almost, disappearance of the fabric due to the wetness leaving absolutely nothing hidden -not that the material could hide much anyway. He moved up, face just a hair’s distance from the wetness, just about to leave a kiss but the other man had different plans.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami, you’ll get what you want in a bit,” he said, palms massaging the girl’s boobs, kisses being left on her neck. “I think she’s overdressed.”

Damiano agreed to the statement, sharing just one simple look with Ethan, reaping the panties apart, her pussy now fully exposed. The singer looked up to his friend once again, a nod of approval being more than enough to shoot the man into action.

His lips swiftly found her clit, not much effort for the skilled man, sucking and kissing the sensitive bud, tongue lapping the juices of her pussy taking advantage of the wetness to stimulate her clit. Y/N’s head fell back, on the drummer’s shoulder, the man taking advantage of the angle and leaving kisses and marks on her neck, one hand always on her chest, the other currently choking her. She moaned so beautifully in his ear, making him harder than he thought he could get, surprised at how well he held himself together.

Damiano kept eating the girl out, fingers starting to dive into her pussy one at a time. He got up to four, said pussy taking them in wonderfully, practically swallowing them within the velvety confines. “I’ve experienced nothing hotter in my life, dolcezza. This pussy is scrumptious, could eat it for days,” he, himself thrusting on the bed, already having gotten hard again, craving some friction. His mouth was leaving wet kisses to her thigh and his fingers were deep inside her, going in and out, Ethan adding his own fingers, playing with her clit edging her closer and closer to the edge.

All the telltales were there: the shaking, the loudness, the closed eyes… She was ready to cum, but it was not something Ethan could allow yet. He stopped his actions, placing a hand on his band mate’s head, said man getting the memo and pausing as well. “You really thought you’d come this easy, amore? Oh no! You have been acting like a desperate slut all day, flashing Damiano and now letting him taste you, knowing it drives me crazy. You have been very naughty,” he explained before shuffling her off his body, moving to stand up.

Y/N could not help but whine, the sound only enabling the two men. “I think she’s been naughty again. Didn’t you say you’d be a good girl, puppet?” She simply nodded head looking down, but not before seeing the look on Damiano’s face. “I think some spanking would put our puppet in place.”

Ethan nodded in agreement, already moving Y/N to bend over the bed, her legs wobbly from her previously denied orgasm. “Count for Damiano, dolcezza,” said the man, leaving a kiss on her back and then starting his actions.

“One.”

Although her words were what was asked of her Damiano was not satisfied, giving her one of his own and speaking up. “Say thank you, puppy, don’t be rude.”

Another spank, “three, thank you,” she followed the orders, jumping forward with every slap on her skin.

As she reached ten it got harder to count. Damiano had started fingering her again, opting to pause his actions after every few thrusts, slamming his palms on her ass cheeks or pussy. It’d be a lie if Y/N said this wasn’t enjoyable-after all she could not stop moaning loudly, but the redness of her ass would disagree.

“Why don’t you keep quiet, puppy? These noises of yours are what got you here. You can’t hide how much you like this, can you, slut?”

For the second time that night, Y/N was on the verge of cumming all over Damiano’s fingers, unable to speak yet again.

“Use,” spank, “your,” spank, “words,” spank.

“I can’t hide, daddy,” she responded, this time leaving an almost screaming moan, eyes rolling all the way to the back of her head, once again almost falling apart.

Before she had the chance Damiano stopped, hands retracting from the girl and into his mouth, tasting her on his lips.

“I think you can take at least one more, puppet. Can you?” Ethan, had been quite distanced this whole time, deciding to let his friend get a taste of his sex partner, but deciding this was the best moment to do his thing.

Y/N nodded in confirmation, letting out a simple “green,” to let Ethan know she was not stopping just yet.

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

“You are doing so well, dolcezza,” praised Damiano, thinking of what to do next.

“Why don’t you get up, puppet. I think it’s time you get what you want.”

At that, her head perked up, already jumping from Ethan’s lap (almost falling while doing so) eager to be fucked and to finally orgasm. “I want you on all fours. You suck me off, Dami can fuck your pussy. I’m sure you’d love that.” She nodded, moving to be in all fours as Ethan stood on his knees on top of the bed, Damiano following suit and placing himself behind Y/N.

“Agh,” he groaned, “sei così bagnata, bambina,” he commented, collecting all the wetness on his cock before pushing inside her.

The action and the moans it emitted caused vibrations to Ethan, making him groan in pleasure, Y/N’s talent to shuck not wavering now. “You like this a lot, puppet, don’t you? Being fucked by my best friend while sucking my cock, huh? You like that?”

She could only hum in response, holes being filled to the brim so pleasurably. It was all better than she expected, more overwhelming, so she could not keep it anymore. She released Ethan’s cock, screaming loudly as her release finally overtook her, Damiano groaning in contentment. He pulled out of her afterwards, jacking himself off a bit before coating her back in his own cum.

Now the only one left unsatisfied was Ethan. His pleasure was cut short for the girl’s release, and although he was not mad, he certainly wanted to feel her.

“Can you handle one more for me, cucciola? You did such a good job so far but I need to feel you.” Y/N nodded and changed her position, this time her legs were in the air, soon to be wrapped around the drummer, eyes half closed in bliss.

“Such a good girl for me,” Ethan praised one more time before he started his rhythm slamming into her. This time it did not take long for both of them to reach their highs, the man riding out both of them and after taking a second to breathe he pulled out, falling right next to her.

“Are you ok?” This time the concerned man was Damiano, a bottle of water already in his hands and ready to give it to the girl.

“Mhm… Thank you,” she mumbled, voice almost a whisper but the smile was hard to miss.

“I think I should leave,” said the front man and he went to get dressed, abandoning the room, leaving only Ethan and Y/N in it.

Ethan got up quickly, looking around for a cloth as he got to the bathroom and wet it with some warm water. Coming back, he used it to clean Y/N up; her back from Damiano’s cum, her face from the cum and her dried up juices and her pussy from the left over wetness, a pair of underwear and a t-shirt in his other hand.

“Come one, dolcezza, you did so good. You’ll go to sleep in just a second. Come one, help me get you dressed,” he voiced and started leaving kisses on her face.

“You took both of us wonderfully, thank you.” Another hum as a response.

Ethan realized how at this point she had fallen asleep, fucked out and exhausted, he did not expect her to stay awake.

“I only wish I could tell you this when you’re awake… I think I’m in love with you."

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

#måneskin x reader #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic #måneskin #damiano david imagine #damiano david #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio

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professorjaskier · 3 years

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Just the Way You Are (A Geraskier Fic)

Hi y'all! This is my second submission for @thewitcherbog's bingo event! The prompt was getting caught in the rain. Thanks to @sulkyshengshou for beta reading. Hope you enjoy!

CW: Sexual innuendos and musical numbers

A03 link here

Geralt grumbled under his breath as yet another taxi passed him by, sending a wave of water splashing onto his previously dry body. He sighed and folded up his umbrella that had proven helpless against the onslaught.

“Fuck.”

“Oh, come on Geralt, let’s just start walking. We’ll make it home faster walking than waiting for a cab at this rate.”

Geralt whipped around, the wet tendrils of his hair slapping against his face. He glared at his husband who stood underneath the theater’s overhang, perfectly dry and put together.

“But your clothes—” Geralt protested, knowing that Jaskier was wearing one of his favorite silk shirts.

“Darling,” Jaskier interrupted, running out from under the roof, frantically gesturing to the umbrella Geralt held in his hand. Geralt frantically fumbled with it, trying to put it up before Jaskier plastered himself to his side. If his clothes got soaked, his husband would be a nightmare. “That’s what umbrellas are for.”

At that moment, a gale of wind swept through the street, turning their umbrella inside out and leaving them to the mercy of the elements.

They were silent for a moment, blinking slowly as the rain soaked through both of their clothes. The silence was broken by peals of laughter. Geralt turned to find his husband bent over, hands on his knees as he laughed hysterically. Something had to be wrong. His husband would never laugh about the destruction of his clothes.

Jaskier stood up, took in Geralt’s wide eyes, and shrugged with a playful smirk on his face. “Well, I guess we’re already wet. Might as well walk.”

Geralt blinked, placing a hand on Jaskier’s forehead. He wasn’t feverish. Something else must be wrong. “But your clothes. They’ll get ruined.”

Jaskier snorted and brushed his wet hair out of his eyes. “Geralt, this shirt is a bit tight anyways. I got it back in college.”

Geralt grumbled, gathering Jaskier into his arms, frowning when he felt Jaskier shivering against him. “I think you look beautiful.”

Geralt felt Jaskier smile against the crook of his neck. “I know you do. Doesn’t make it less true that the shirt is tight.”

He couldn’t argue with that logic. Giving Jaskier one last squeeze, he left one hand on Jaskier’s hip and started leading them in the direction of their apartment. It was too cold for them to stay outside for long. Jaskier was still shivering against him, burrowing closer to Geralt to leech what warmth he could provide.

“That was a nice show,” Geralt said, trying to take his husband’s mind off of the cold surrounding them.

“Y-Yes it was, wasn’t it? I’ve always loved musicals,” Jaskier stuttered, the shivers wracking through his body interrupting the rhythm of his words.

“No. Really?” Geralt glanced over, using all of his strength to keep a straight face. He was rewarded with a light swat on the shoulder for his efforts.

“Yes, really. Honestly, Geralt, you’re so mean to your cold, tired husband. Here I am, shivering, and you mock me!”

Geralt knew his husband was joking about mocking him, the smirk on his handsome face making it even more apparent, but he was being truthful about the cold. Something would have to be done about that. An idea in place, Geralt guided Jaskier under the awning in front of a florist shop, wrapping his arms around his husband’s waist.

“I know a way we can keep warm,” Geralt murmured into Jaskier’s ear, pleased to find a flush working its way onto the brunette’s cheeks.

“Hmmm, so do I.”

Geralt grinned, dipping down to capture Jaskier’s lips with his own. There was nothing he loved more than kissing his husband. Of course the sex was great too, but the simplicity of feeling Jaskier’s mouth move against his own made him feel safe. It felt like home.

Jaskier grinned into the kiss and lightly pushed him away. “I had another idea.”

Geralt blanched. “Jaskier, we are in public—”

Jaskier laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight. “No! We aren’t in college anymore, darling. I was thinking something more like this.”

Suddenly, Jaskier sprinted out into the rain and launched himself onto the nearest lamppost. As he leaned out from the post, one hand keeping him aloft, he began to sing.

I’m singing in the rain

Just singing in the rain

What a glorious feeling

I’m happy again.

“Jaskier, it’s still pouring, you’re just going to get even wetter.”

Geralt watched in fond amusement as his husband ignored him and continued to sing and dance to the classic song, moving down the street towards their apartment with a smile on his face. With a sigh, Geralt moved out from underneath the sanctuary he’d found and followed Jaskier down the street. When he finally caught up with Jaskier, the brunette turned around and smiled.

“Dance with me.”

It was such a simple request, one that Geralt knew he would bend to eventually, but not immediately.

“Come on, Geralt! A review, three words or less.”

Geralt smiled at those familiar words, the one’s Jaskier had spoken to him the night they’d met. Although his love for the younger man had grown since then, he knew Jaskier would understand his grumpiness. He always had.

“Not that song.”

Geralt watched as Jaskier spluttered at the response, offended at the slight against the classic musical. Before Jaskier could go on a rant, Geralt pulled Jaskier flush against him and started to hum their wedding song as they swayed in the empty street.

Geralt felt Jaskier pull himself closer and start to sing the chorus.

I don’t want clever conversation

I never want to work that hard

I just want someone that I can talk to

I want you just the way you are

As the song came to a close, they stayed there swaying together to the beat of the rain hitting the pavement. It might have been cold, but Geralt felt a tiny warmth in the pit of his stomach.

God, he loved this man.

Finally, Jaskier pulled away, still staying in the circle of Geralt’s arms, and quirked his head to the side. “Well, I certainly feel warmer now.”

Geralt hummed in agreement, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s soaked hair. “Maybe we can head home and try out my idea of keeping warm.”

Jaskier chuckled, grabbing his hand and dragging them towards their apartment, with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

“Darling, I thought you’d never ask.”

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list!

@comfyswitcherblanketfort @kuripon @dapandapod@officerjennie@jaskierswolf @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @bi-aragorn @fontegagrilledcheese @alllthequeenshorses @stonedstargazer666 @artrealla

#the witcher fandom #jaskier #the witcher #witcher fanfiction #geralt x jaskier #geralt #geraskier #soft geraskier #geraskier fanfic #singing in the rain #fluff #fluff bingo #LindaWrites

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

Blind mistake

Rowaelin month - day 8

So, this fic was fighting me at the beginning. as I started, deleted and restarted a million times.

Then slowly the idea came and here it is. What I was not expecting was to write a A Little Braver AU.

Aelin and Rowan meet under different circumstances and are two different people from thee actual story. Aelin is still the captain at east station and Rowan still the airforce captain.

Yes, this is a happier fic but as Aelin said in KoA... she loved Rowan because it was him, the man who had known pain as deep as hers.

IN order to enjoy this fic you do not need to have read ALB. A part from Pete popping up for a brief second at the end, this is a complete stand alone story and no knowledge of ALB is needed.

Rowan sighed. His love life sucked so much that he ended up using a dating app. Since Lyria dumped him a year before he had been struggling to go back in the game. He had been on a few dates but so far none of the women he met had sparked his curiosity. Far too bland and with almost no personality or far too bothered by looks. Some of them had been downright stupid and he had been a gentleman and played along when all he wanted to do was run away screaming. The last nightmare had been a woman called Remelle who Lorcan had recommended to him. He had to feign food poisoning and pay the chef to let him escape from the back of the restaurant to flee the monster. He had paid the bill sneakily, and once home he had insulted Lorcan and his poor taste in women.

Now he was again in a restaurant, ready for probably another fiasco. He and the woman had chatted a bit and she had seemed interesting so he had dared to ask her out and she had accepted. On the paper it was all good. In reality he was getting ready for another crazy escape. Maybe he should just give up and live alone and become a grumpy old man.

He had a kingsflame on the table near him, their code to recognise each other at the restaurant. The fact that they knew very little about each other made him nervous. It was a recipe for disaster. He knew she was a personal shopper and that she liked movies and music. He was really dreading the encounter now, and started to realise that perhaps it had been a mistake. She could have lied.

Until he raised his head and he noticed the woman who had just entered the restaurant. He then spotted the flower pinned on her green dress as they had agreed. Gods, the woman was way too hot for him. There was a catch somewhere. His heart raced when realisation dawned on her face and she waved and started to walk to him. The smile. Damn, the smile could stop a man’s heart. The woman walking toward him was a goddess. He was expecting her to turn away for another table until she sat down in front of him at his table. Rowan was speechless.

“Sorry, I am late. Accident on the ring road. I stopped to give a hand to west station.” She used her hand to brush off the smudge of grease he had only just noticed she had.

“You stopped?”

“Yes,” she looked at him with a strange light in her eyes “I am a firefighter. I am the captain at east station.”

Rowan blinked twice. Shit. She was the wrong woman. She was not here for him. Of course. It was too good to be true. She had sat at the wrong table and a part of him was sad.

“I am Aelin.” she said and he knew that it had dawned on her as well that he was not her date “You are not Chaol.”

Rowan shook his head “I am Rowan.”

“Holy shit. I saw the kingsflame. The restaurant. And you smiled at me when I came in. I just assumed...” He did not want her to go.

“Ach, I was having second thoughts anyway.” He shrugged.

In that moment the waiter came and they were hesitant for a moment then Aelin grabbed the menu and started ordering, surprising him. Rowan got some wine for both and they placed as well their order.

“Our dates are late anyway. Maybe stuck in the horrendous traffic out there.”

“You will not hear me complain.” Said Rowan with a smile “so, you stopped and helped?”

Aelin nodded, sipping a bit of her wine “I couldn’t resist it. West station was there but there were so many cars involved that I had to something. The traffic wasn’t moving anyway.”

Rowan could not believe the woman in front of him. Not only she was a goddess. She had even stopped to help her colleagues save people from a car crash on her way to a date. Where had she been all his life?

The waiter came with their order and smiled at the expression of joy when Aelin looked at the amount of food in front of her. Another point for her. She had an appetite. He had no need of another date ordering a boring salad. He was a healthy eater but loved a woman with an appetite, especially because he loved cooking.

“So Rowan, what do you do?” She asked him while tackling the gigantic prawn on her seafood tagliatelle.

“I am an airforce pilot. I am a captain.”

Her face lit up “as in the uniform and all? And the awesome planes?”

Rowan nodded.

Aelin was about to take another sip of her wine when two figures stopped at their table. A brown-haired man and a blonde woman. Both had a kingsflames pinned on their dresses.

“Excuse me but you are with my date.” Said the stranger.

Rowan looked up from his risotto “finders keepers.”

“And he is my date.” Said the woman in a shrill voice.

“What he said.” Added Aelin while eating another prawn.

“We got stuck in traffic. There is a massive road accident on the ring road.” Chaol complained, not letting it go.

“Yeah I know. I stopped to help and I still made it here before you.”

“So what does this mean?” Asked Chaol.

Aelin stared at Rowan. It was a no brainer. Chaol was cute but Rowan was sex on two legs. Between the silver hair and the green eyes he ticked all of the boxes. And he was a pilot. Chaol was an accountant.

“You two can go on a date together.” She suggested and hoped they took the hint.

“That is rude.”

“Oh shoot,” said Aelin covering her mouth in fake surprise “I must have left the fucks I have to give in my bunker gear.”

Chaol looked at her aghast. The blonde woman turned on her heels and left.

“You missed an opportunity.” He added before he left as well.

As soon as he left Rowan burst into laughter and she joined him “no fucks to give…” he said trying to catch his breath “I have to steal this when my CO drives me nuts.”

“Ansel, one of my firefighters, she taught me that.”

“It’s fucking perfect.”

And both resumed their dinner without the awkwardness of a blind date. No stupid questions like how many siblings do you have or what is your favourite colour. No, with Rowan there had been a connection from the start and the joke had been the final proof.

“Most guys would have left running at my joke. I have a big and foul mouth. Not very lady-like.” She apologised. “I work in a male dominated place. Apart from Ansel and my two paramedics, I am surrounded by guys and well, they are not easily scared.”

Rowan chuckled “I am in the military. My CO uses fuck you as a term of endearment and one of my lieutenants has the record for the most innuendos in a sentence.”

“How many?” Asked Aelin curios.

“Ten.”

“No friggin’ way.”

Rowan nodded solemnly. Then looked at her and he was glad she sat at his table mistaking him for another man. They had known each other only for twenty minutes but he was dumbstruck by the woman.

She was fierce, intelligent and with a wicked sense of humour.

The meal had been perfect. Aelin had polished every single plate in front of her and also ordered dessert. And when she offered to pay for half the bill he had smiled. He had plenty of dates where the woman didn’t even offer. She took it for granted that he, being the man, was the one paying. He had no issues with that, he was happy to pay, but the fact that Aelin offered made him realise that she was different.

They left the restaurant and he gasped when he saw a red pickup reading Terrasen fire department on its livery, parked just outside the restaurant.

“Way to scare the patrons away.” He joked.

“Sorry. Yesterday I took a lift to work from a colleague and I forgot for a moment that I had a set the date for tonight after my shift. So I grabbed my work pickup to get here. I need to go back to the firehouse and return it.”

“I’ll follow, you drop off the pickup and then I drive you home.”

“I can take a cab, you don’t have to come all the way to the station and back.”

“Humour me,” he said giving her a beautiful smile and she accepted.

Ten minutes later they were at east station and she parked the pickup in its corner at the side and out of the way.

She saw Rowan getting off the car.

“Welcome to east station.” She said extending her arms. She pushed a button and the rolling doors slid up and two big trucks appeared in front of him. He had always wanted to see one up close.

“Cap,” said a man at her back “what are you doing here? I thought you were on a date?” He smiled “that bad? I told you accountants were a bad idea.”

Aelin laughed “looks like I got myself an airforce pilot instead.” She winked at him and Rowan’s heart skipped a beat.

“I’ll tell you next shift, Pete. I just brought back the pickup before Dorian kills me.”

She waved at her relief captain and followed Rowan in his car and told him her address.

While he drove she studied him. He was wearing a nice pair of jeans, a shirt and a black leather jacket. She should have guessed he was military. Aedion had the same posture and he was ex-army.

“Which house?” Asked Rowan, waking her up from her thoughts.

“The one with the blue door.”

He parked and walked with her up to the door “I had so much fun tonight,” she said to him, not wanting him to leave her.

“I am so glad that you sat at the wrong table. This was the best blind date ever.” He looked at her and wanted to kiss her so badly but they had just met and he did not want to pass a a pig.

She moved a step toward him “I am glad too.” And her lips brushed his cheek in a kiss “perhaps we could go on a proper date. One where we are actually meant to meet each other.”

Rowan sighed relieved “It would make me very happy.”

Aelin rummaged in her bag until she found a pen then grabbed his wrist and pulled up his cuff a bit and wrote down two numbers.

“The first one is my personal mobile number. The second one is the direct number to my office. I am known to leave my mobile in my bunker gear.”

“Thank you.”

“Let me know a date and if I am not free we can find a better one. Us firefighters have crazy long shifts so I need to be off.”

He took her pen and her wrist and wrote his number “then you text me. A day that you are off shift. I work regular hours. This makes more sense.”

He took a step down from the few step and she hated the idea of him leaving.

“Goodnight, Rowan.” She opened the door and looked at him one last time.

Rowan waited for her to disappear behind the door and then went back to his car and was grateful for the best blind mistake of his life.

#rowaelinmonth #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowan x aelin #fluff

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sibsteria · 4 years

Text

valentines [spn cast and characters]

summary: how much do they care for it? what do they do?

warning: fluff, smut-ish, my frazzled single brain

Cast:

Misha Collins:

• he won't admit that he kinda loves it

• he'd definitely cooks

• but always gets distracted

• by you

• if you have kids, they are away that night

• the traditional dinner doesn't last long before you're both attached by the lips

• whatever alcohol is being consumed has a cute romantic twist

• you're up all night

• so many hugs

---

Richard Speight Jr:

• he kind of cares for it

• like, a sweet gesture is as far as it goes

• a gift and a movie

• but also

• he so buys heart printed boxers to make you laugh

• and you do, you laugh so hard

• like, everything is so serious and going smoothly

• and his pants are off and just-

• absolute hilarity

---

Sebastian Roche:

• it's more of a 'if you do, he does' situation

• you'd bake together

• even though he's awful at it

• everything comes out half decent and edible

• he just wants a chill day

• hardly any movement and you don't leave the house

• I repeat

• don't

---

Rob Benedict:

• fucking cringy bitch, he likes it enough to make you blush all day

• writes a small song about you both

• obviously on an acoustic

• he recreates your first date because he's that guy

• meaningful gifts rather than expensive ones

• the affection king

---

Mark Pellegrino:

• he doesn't care for it but will do anything to make you smile

• rolls his eyes at the cringy sexual jokes you aim at him

• but then he makes up for it by bringing them to life at the end of the evening

• y'all just kind of act like it's a normal day

• with more affection

• mostly from Frankie

---

Alexander Calvert:

• thinks he has to impress you, so he tries

• definitely a flowers guy

• the kind to steal kisses at any given moment

• a romantic at heart, but he hides it well

• that evening though-

• the hottest sex you've had in your life

• he wears the necklace

• it's a cold opposite to the heat of the moment

---

Felicia Day:

• when I say valentines, you say romance

• she's the queen of making you feel loved

• she can't pull herself off away from you

• wine and her romantic spotify playlist

• you wear her t-shirt and nothing else, all day

• the sex? absolutely spectacular

---

Mark Sheppard:

• he cares for it more than he'd like to

• but not enough to give you the satisfaction of a romantic dinner

• did someone say takeout? mark sheppard did

• you don't even care, just not being alone on valentine's is enough (yes I'm looking at you)

• bed ridden and pyjamas

• sweet hugs that last forever

---

Ruth Connell:

• you try your hardest to refuse all the romance

• in no way is she going to let that happen

• chocolates, flowers, candles, dinner, music

• she doesn't waste time

• big softy

---

Characters:

Castiel:

• has no clue why there's heart shaped confections and objects everywhere

• asks Sam and Dean what's going on

• if you two aren't dating he will absolutely ask you to be his Valentine in a traditional way

• valentine's alcohol bottle? check

• sweet card? check

• innuendoes that make you choke on your spit? bingo

• if you are dating already he'll give you a bouquet of chocolate roses

• you'll get him a custom tie with everything he loves on

• pb&j, bees, dean

• he has no idea what is going on, but wants in

---

Gabriel:

• to be frank, he doesn't give a shit, but loves you so-

• he will wear the moustache with or without your protests

• try every line in the book to bed you

• chocolate ! covered ! everything !

• -and that's just for him

• turns your room into a valentine's dungeon, hearts, banners, flowers (so many), everything is pink and red and- ugh

• you hate it but kind of love it

• and you love him for doing this without asking

• he will talk you into some food play with like, chocolate and whipped cream and shit

• you get it in your bellybutton and slap his head away before he can get it, wiping it off yourself

---

Chuck:

• wants nothing to do with the 'holiday'

• you reassure him it's fine and that you don't care

• but your thoughts say different

• so he caves and writes you a poem

• it's the most beautiful thing you have ever heard

• man has a way with words

• and you have your way with him

• the one ability he can't give himself is the love he feels for you

• he hardly says it, but he doesn't have to

• because you know

• from the way he looks at you, treats you, talks to you

• it's so obvious

---

Jack Kline:

• much like Cas, a discussion between him and the Winchester's gives him the knowledge he needs

• omg sweet baby is obsessed with Valentine's day

• he keeps handing you things, one after another throughout the day

• not everything is store bought

• 'I made this for you!' you fucking melt 'I saw it online and- I thought of you, I wanted to make it so I could make you happy'

• but you don't need things to make you happy

• he makes you happy

• and when he hears your thoughts say that he just-

• he almost cries, he hugs you tighter than anyone ever could

• 'you make me the happiest'

• he's just a big bundle of cuteness

---

Lucifer:

• just, no

• neither of you care

• you torment all the couples on dates, making things go wrong

• making them spill things on themselves

• the waiters 'slip' with their food

• a little more sinister ones like- making it look like their s/o is cheating

• and if you don't like that, he will stop

• deep down, it kind of is a date

• two people who love each other to the ends of earth, doing something that makes them happy

• he takes a break from rough fucking to make you feel adored

• even though you always feel adored

• because Lucifer himself, is taking up his time with you

---

Balthazar:

• he asks you if you want to do anything and you say no

• he's so confused and sceptical

• he's lowkey kind of hurt that you don't want to spend romantic time with him, lowkey

• oh, if only he knew your plan

• you ask him if he wants to watch a movie

• he hops at the opportunity to do something with you and goes all out

• expensive wine, snacks, flowers, so many snacks

• he lets you pick

• he looks at you like your his world

• and then Titanic starts

• his soft grin drops and he rolls his eyes

• 'really?' 'really.'

• he doesn't really care though, he has you

---

Crowley:

• tells everyone to fuck off so he can have time with you, completely alone

• he just wants to be loved, and so you do that exactly

• you muster up all your romantic stops, and bam-

• you pester your angel friend to help set up décor and snap up some things

• he has no idea until he actually sees it for himself

• he wants to cry, but uses everything in himself not to

• no one has ever done anything like this for him

• he know your special, and he knows he can't let you go

• that night, if you don't already have it, he offers you immortality

• to be with him forever

• you'd be the queen of hell for eternity

• you instantly say yes with no hesitation

• he is taken back by your acceptance

• but in a heart melting way

---

Charlie Bradbury:

• she loves it when she has you to spend it with

• you send each other valentines card memes throughout the day

• fancy takeout with candles and music

• bathing together because intimacy

• you but new lingerie

• so does she

• 'love that colour on you' you make her blush so much

• she likes to think she hold the reigns in the relationship

• she is so wrong

---

Rowena MacLeod:

• like, no

• she'll kiss you like her life depends on it but

• not much goes on

• you might treat each other to a stamina spell so you can really stay up all night

189 notes · View notes

seancekitsch · 4 years

Text

Out of the Rain: a Marko x Reader fic

Warnings: bloodplay goes without saying bc vamp, rough sex, dirty talk, semi public sex, telepathy?? me projecting my music taste on this fic again. drug use, fast and loose use of vampire lore bc when i write i am god and u cannot stop me. also can u tell i have like…. v clear descriptions of the setting like i used to work at the place im describing but its not in california

No one had come in for hours. What's the point of staying open? You dim some of the lights in the store, which is one of three head shops in Santa Carla, but the only one open late. You're not really sure why this is the only store that stays open, why everyone else if worried about the three am walk back to their car on a weekend night. You've never seen anything of suspicion, just sometimes that biker gang watches people shuffle out. That was almost comforting, though. People didn't like those guys, so no one would make you use your switchblade if they were around.

The bright while fluorescent lights of your typical daytime ambiance faded away, and now green light bathes you in the “mood” lighting your boss thought was a good idea. The green lighting reflects off of the glass counters, shining it back at the ceiling and making everything that much more green. It fits, you think with the overall vibe of the store. The stale scent of weed, gently and miserably covered up by some nag champa incense, always burning in at least four different spots within the store. You'd long since gotten used to the smoke in your eyes. The music does everything to add to the ambiance. You always have full control of the music in the shop, usually because no one else is willing to take the night shift in Santa Carla. In fact, most of the boardwalk shops had a revolving door of night shift workers. You never got why, something clearly spooks them that does not spook you. Whether that makes you brave or stupid, you dont know. Jefferson Airplane’s Surrealistic Pillow pumps through the speakers in the store. But I suppose no one knows, you're my plastic fantastic lover.

The rain batters the boardwalk outside, a roar much different than the typical hustle and bustle of drunk teens, of the cliques and crews that come in and out; the few that sit and snicker in the doorway, never entering. Some too afraid to be associated with the implication of being spotted in the shop. We sell jewelry and vinyl too, you always say, when they balk at the idea of being in the same room as a bong or incense.

But then there's the other group that stands and idles in the threshold, also not entering. It's that biker gang. Four guys, a girl, a kid. Maybe he’s the brat of the girl and the one who takes himself too seriously, but maybe not. She looks too young for that. They'd been hovering around quite a bit lately, always after dark. You’d spoken to them, at least the ones that are talkative. The hair metal wannabe and the cute short one. Paul and Marko. You knew the dark haired one was Dwayne, but all he ever offered you was a curt nod and a tight lipped smile, respectful but indifferent. They're nice, not worth the spooky reputation they have. Any time it's not just you at the shop, your boss tries to spook them away. Good thing your boss isn't here tonight, because one of them is prowling around the storefront in the rain. That is, if it's not your spliff induced haze playing tricks on you.

No, one of them is out there. Without his little pack. The cute one. Marko.

You walk over to the door, which you haven't had propped open since the rain trickled in as a drizzle at the beginning of your shift. At least he had enough sense to be huddling under the awning. Fuck, he’s handsome even when he looks like a drowned rat.

“What are you doing out here?” You scrunch up your nose as you ask.

“Y’know, waiting for you to show up.” Wanted a look at that cute ass.

You blink at him. Did he really just say that?

“Okay… well, you know it's raining out there, right?”

“I might,” he offers noncommittally, eyeing the spliff still in the hand that's not holding the door. If it were anyone but him, you'd probably get fired for it.

Why is he just hanging around out here? That's hella weird. His curls are getting matted to his forehead, slick with rain, his jacket starting to look a little sad.

“C’mon in, Marko. It’s too wet out here. You’ll fuck up your jacket.” You nod towards the interior of the shop holding the door open as he passes you.

Wrong move, sweet cheeks.

“What did you say?” What did he mean, wrong move?

“I didn't say anything,” he offers nonchalantly as he thumbs at one of the tapestries on the wall. A garish mess that’s supposed to be the worm from Alice in Wonderland, but it’s distorted by a botched tie dye job of dark muddy colors. Every time you look at it, you assume one of the day workers did it.

“No, you said something.”

“Do you want me to say something?” there's both a threat and an innuendo in his tone. Maybe you do, but you just laugh, a sharp exhale through your nose, and bring the spliff to your lips again as he follows you deeper into the store.

You jump up onto the counter next to the ash tray, easy reach for each time you need to ash.

“So why are you really here?” your eyes narrow at him, kicking your sandal off on the floor where it lands a few inches from his boots. He looks uneasy in the space, like for all the wild shit you assume he’s into, he might not actually belong in it. He sways a little to the music, perfectly in tune with the rhythm. You sway along too, and suddenly he fills the space like he belongs. He just needed someone along for the ride with him.

“Do you ever come around during the day, or just at night because I’m so fun?” You’re teasing him, but it’s a nice easy feeling between you.

“Not really a sun guy,” bullshit, he would look beautiful with a tan, “but I do drag everyone here just to see you.”

“Awww, all for me? Do you have a crush, Marko?”

It’s more than that. You hear the words clearly, but his smile doesn’t move. You kick the other sandal off.

“I can hear you, I don’t know how, but I can. I bet you can hear me too.”

I can. You’re wrong about the tan thing.

You straighten up, mind clearing as you blurt out your next question. Something absolutely stupid.

“So what are you, a vampire or something?” he laughs at you, but his big toothy smile doesn't reach his eyes. No, there's something predatory, extremely dark in his eyes. Otherworldly.

How could you guess?

“Well, that for one big fucking clue.” You ash the spliff for the final time, leaving the roach in the tray. You would think you’d be more surprised, more upset that you just found out vampires were real, and that you were in the same room as one. You have to say, weirder things are probably afoot in Santa Carla. Murder capital of the world can’t all be from some rowdy teens and a ten year old.

“You do those surf nazis?” is all that leaves your mouth. You kind of hope it was. They were the fucking worst. Racist, misogynistic, destructive. You’d had to threaten them a few times to leave your store on your shift.

“The—? Oh! Surf nazis. Yeah that was us. Ate a few of them.”

“Good for you. I mean— murder. bad. But they were nazis, and now they’re dead. so…” you trail off. Not really sure what to say next, but then you keep going. Remember everything you know about Marko.

“No, no I mean, it makes sense. Right? You and the guys only hang around at night. Aren’t vampires solitary hunters though? I don’t remember Dracula being in a frat.”

“They’re my pack. We take care of each other.” He says it with such fondness and devotion.

You feel a pang of jealousy run through you. You work alone for the most part, live alone, you’ve got friends but they’re all over the place. He belongs to something.

“And you're down with this?” he’s legitimately asking. You nod. You don't really have a choice, you're down or you get eaten, but like genuinely you are down with it. If he was going to eat you, he probably would have by now. There's probably a reason they've been hanging around the store, and in your sightline while you close up. You're putting things together.

“Like really?”

“Well, you haven't made me a kebab yet.”

He shrugs, frowns.

“Could still skewer you on something.”

Laughter erupts from your lips while you roll your eyes, music to Marko’s ears. This is why he took a shine to you, it's easy to get along with you, and you're not one of his brothers.

Something heavy falls in the room, and it's not the haze of the incense. He steps towards you, big blue eyes raking over your body, but always coming back to meet your gaze. He closes the space between you, easily fitting between your thighs; the rough patches of his jacket brushing against your bare skin where your shorts ride up. He leans in, like he's about to kiss you, and against all better judgement, you're going to let him.

You're going to let him.

The record skips. He holds out his hand, more like a gentleman than a biker gang killer, and helps you off the counter.

“Hold on, let me pick out a new record,” you turn without waiting for his confirmation, not at all surprised when Marko follows hot on your heels to the back room. Your boss’ office, the record room. Whatever you wanted to call it. His hands ghost over your arms as you push past the wooden bead curtain to enter the room. You can feel his presence close enough to touch. That's it, right where I want you. There’s his voice again.

He lets you actually pick out a new record. You slide it out of the sleeve and walk it over to the player. The static buzzes and pops as the needle finds the groove.

“Ocean Rain, you heard it?” No. He shakes his head, and you can feel it as he leans into your back.

“Echo and the Bunnymen. They've got a new album coming out this year.”

You turn to face him and his fingerless leather glove clad hands cover your cheeks.

He kisses you gently, tenderly. Not at all the way you’d expect. He’s eager, kissing like there’s something to prove. He licks his way into your mouth, tongue pushing your lips apart and you let him. His arms tighten around you as you kiss, tongues now greeting each other playfully. Your tongue explores his mouth, running along each and every tooth in his mouth. Huh, no fangs, you realize, and maybe he isn't actually a vampire. As if he reads your mind (maybe he does), he pulls away.

“They're, uh, hiding,’ he nods, almost to himself more than you. You nod as well, slow and uneasy, not quite believing him, but he pulls you back into a harsh kiss, more of what you expected. His hands roam your body as yours bury themselves in his curls. Still damp, but long and beautiful just as well. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders, and his hands only briefly leave you to throw it and his gloves somewhere else, leaving him just in a thin white tank top. His mouth leaves yours to trail lower, kissing your neck. Your pulse point. Fucking irresistable. No, that's definitely his voice. Is this the end? Could be.

“I can smell you, hot stuff,” he moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You find yourself gripping onto his shoulders a little tighter, but he lets you sink. He guides you, again more gently than you thought he would; bare knees brushing the threadbare carpet floor before you plant yourself. You look up at him through your lashes and he all but bites back a groan.

“You gonna join me down here?” You lick your lips, waiting for something.

“Nah, I’m gonna let you have a head start,” there's a joke in his tone. You're learning that’s normal for him. He’s silent, or playing jester. It’ll be interesting when you let him fuck you. Shit, did he hear that?

“Quit thinkin’ so loud!” he runs an affectionate hand through your hair. “But yes, I heard you. Glad you're as eager as I am.”

That's encouraging. You take your time undoing his belt, connected to faded and soft leather chaps, not bothering to push them down his thighs before you move to the top of his jeans, teasing your fingers at the skin just above the waistline. He shudders under your touch, extremely reactive. Does he get touched like this often? Or is it just quick fucks? You don't want to think about who else he might be doing this with, focusing again on his body, and all of the offending clothing covering it. You unbutton them slowly, teasing. For a member of the undead, he seems to be out of breath under your movements. The zipper is pulled down just as slowly. You run your palms flat along the bottom of his stomach, to his hips before pushing his jeans down to around his ankles, hooking his boxers on your finger along with them. He’s beautiful, and you can help but stare. Hard, eager, and thick, greeting you with a small trimmed patch of golden blonde curls. You wrap your hand around the base.

You never expected a vampire to whimper, but that's exactly what happens when your tongue darts out of your mouth to lick the head of his cock. Quick, tentative little lick, testing the waters. Your tongue swipes across the slit at the tip of his thick member and his hands animate like you flipped a switch, rising up, going to your hair, rising up again, slamming down against the desk. Your boss’ desk. You lick a long stripe to the underside of his cock, paying close attention to the prominent vein there.

“So good, so good, oh you feel so-” he pants out, hands white knuckling the edge of the desk. Heat pools in your core, loving that he’s so vocal. Fuck, if he could just keep speaking. Your other hand moves to your shorts, sloppily and hastily undoing them and wiggling them down to your knees. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and sink down on it, taking him as far as you can, until you couch when he hits the back of your throat.

“You look fucking beautiful like that. Please move, Please move, you’re so fucking good at this.”

You do, starting to bob your head up and down on the length of him, hollowing out your cheeks and flattening your tongue against him, cupping and massaging his balls in your hand. Your free finds itself between your legs, rubbing gently at your clit, stirred and encouraged by his praise.

“Does sucking me off get you hot and bothered?” Yesitdoes.

You keep bobbing your head, rubbing your clit, eyes trained on his until his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches in your mouth.

“Don't wanna- don't wanna finish in your mouth,” he’s urgent, grabbing you by the chin and pulling your mouth off of his cock. He pushes you back by your shoulders, letting you guide yourself back to lay on the rug. He pulls your loose shorts easily off your legs and settles himself between your legs, too eager to bother with removing his boots and everything.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Do you know how bad I wanted this?”

“Fuck me, Marko, dont say it. Just do it,” youre breathless under him, wanting nothing more than for him to be fucking you. He pauses.

“I dunno…” his thumb swipes up along your clit, drawing a whine from your throat, “For some reason I think you like it when I say things.”

You nod, knowing words will fail you. And he gives you what you want, lining himself up and sinking into you, groaning as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

“Oh I knew your pussy would feel like fucking heaven,” he pants against your neck, pressing a harsh kiss to the underside of your jaw. He sets the pace quickly, unmerciful and fast, fucking hard and deep into you. His hands push up your thin tee shirt, and you can feel his sigh of relief when he gets a handful of bare breast. He doesn't have to deal with a bra tonight. You hike your knees up, opening yourself as much as you can to him, wanting him to fill you to the brim. He looks into your eyes while he fucks you, which comes as a surprise to you. Maybe it shouldn't. You wonder what it would be like to be a victim of his. Does he treat them well? Have fun with them like this? Or is he vicious? You don't know if you could picture him like that… vamped out.

“What does it feel like?”

“What?” he thrusts sharply, snapping his hips into you, making you yelp.

“To be fed on, but not to die.”

Are you serious? You hear him in your head.

YesIam. He thrusts like that again, earning an identical yelp, now coupled with your thighs squeezing him around the middle. You're close already, and he can tell.

He nods, a question; You nod, confirmation.

He pulls at the neckline of your shirt, already scooping so it doesn’t ruin, and exposes your shoulder. Somewhere non lethal. His other hand comes up to grip your jaw, covering your neck but being careful not to squeeze it. You hope he bruises your jaw, you realize. A physical way to feel him when dawn comes. He slows his pace to a rocking, grinding into you, staying deep.

Then he bites. Stars erupt behind your eyes, and it feels like your blood has turned to seltzer. Every nerve in your body is in overdrive as you moan and shake and come undone around his cock. You're the kind of girl that comes from the bite of a vampire, apparently. He doesn’t let up. You can faintly hear him moaning against the open wound in your shoulder, and you hope you taste good to him. He licks the wound a few times more, softly, carefully, like he’s trying to soothe you when he finally lets you come down from your high.

When he pulls back to let you see him, his features are gruesome, full vampire with sharp brows and cheekbones, pointed nose even that much more so almost birdlike. Fangs and bottom half of his face covered in blood.Your blood. He’s panting like an animal after the kill. But he doesn't scare you. Maybe he should, but he doesn't. It's just Marko, no matter what, and if he wanted to eat you he would have. Several times now. His hand finally releases your jaw, to wipe the blood from his face. He wipes his hand then on your face, covering you in your own blood, hot on his fingers and palm.

“Fuckin sexy,” he pants, voice deeper and distorted. His thrusts speed up, trying to find his own release as your nails dig into his back, maybe making him bleed as well. You feel the rug burn forming on your back, you feel tears in your eyes. It's never felt this good with other guys.

When he comes, he comes with a howl, buried deep inside you as he shouts and shivers then stills above you. Your chest is heaving, trying to regain yourself as his face slowly fades to normal, and he slumps down on top of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, near the wound he tore open, now no longer bleeding. He mouths at any bare skin he can find, lazy half kisses as he spreads more mess and blood on you. Your fingers find his curls again, winding them around your digits as you stare up at the sickly green mood lighting bathing the walls of the room.

An hour later, Marko is helping you lock up early.

He makes sure to dump out all of the ashes from spliffs and incense, makes sure the vinyl is all in its right place while you make sure the register and inventory is all in its rightful place and order.

“You’re dangerous, you know.”

“Me?” you scoff, “That rich, coming from you.”

I’d do a lot of things I’m not supposed to for you. You kinda don't want to ask him what he means by that. For some reason that feels like a conversation you shouldn't have tonight.

He leaves the store before you, holding the door open for you and letting you lock the doors. He slings an easy arm over your shoulder, not bothering to shield either of you from the rain as he steers you towards your car. You can feel the rain cleaning your face, the blood flowing away and saving you the shower you were going to take before collapsing into bed tonight.

“Where’s your bike?”

“I flew here,” he says with that devilish smile, and you're really not sure if he's joking or not. Your arm sneaks its way into his jacket and wraps around his waist, holding him close as he makes sure you get home same. Marko makes you feel calm, in a way you didn't feel before you moved to Santa Carla. How long had he been waiting to make his move? And does this mean he and his brothers would be coming around more often? Maybe being more friendly towards you. Each step towards your car feels heavy; You don't want to go home alone without him, but somehow you know he won't come with you.

“Will I see you again?”

He grabs your car keys from your hand, and sticks them in the door handle. Of course you will.

Right. You just have to be near the beach at night. You know, where you work.

He kisses you full on the mouth, holding you close and tight, like you could slip away at any second. When he finally lets you go you pull away to be met with his face, full on grinning, his eyes still closed from the kiss. He doesn't look like a killer.

Marko watches you as you pull open the door to your car and more or less throw your ass into the seat. He holds the door as he gives you one last smile, and says:

“You know, you should never invite a vampire into your life. Renders you powerless.”

And he winks.

#marko lost boys x reader #lost boys x reader #marko lost boys #my work

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rawiswhore · 3 years

Text

Various WWF Wrestlers x Fem Reader- "Back That Ass Up"

The 1990's...a time when most rock bands and singers didn't sexually objectify women in their songs and music videos.

A time when popular female singers, from female singer-songwriters to lead singers of bands to R&B singers, barely ever showed their bodies off and used sex to sell themselves.

A time when it seemed like women who defined the decade were sarcastic, deadpan, nonsexualized alt girls like Janeane Garofalo, Juliana Hatfield and Daria from the titular MTV cartoon.

A time where you had riot grrrl bands like Bikini Kill angrily protesting rape and sexual assault.

A time when Gwen Stefani, who was then known for being the lead singer of a band, stating how she's "had it up to here" with sexism while she points to her forehead.

A time when Sonic Youth's Kim Gordon asked "Are you gonna liberate us girls with your male white corporate oppression?" and Queen Latifah making diss tracks towards misogynistic men.

But then...as the 1990's come to a close, just when you thought professional wrestling had dwindled in popularity when so many of their top stars during the 1980's left the World Wrestling Federation, pro wrestling made a comeback in 1996 and 1997 due to Hulk Hogan turning heel and a wrestling company known as WCW was beating the WWF (World Wrestling Federation, not World Wildlife Fund) in the ratings.

What was the WWF to do?

Instead of having a kid friendly product that seemed like a live action Saturday morning cartoon and had their faces of the company not using profanity or adult-like things despite having lots of charisma and being fan favorites with the audience, the WWF by the end of the 1990's became edgier, more violent, sexualized, shocking, trashier, vulgar and "adult like" than ever before.

You could say that the WWF was growing up with their audience who were kids watching the WWF when Hulk Hogan, Macho Man and even Bret Hart and Razor Ramon were the faces of the company that were now transitioning into teenagers who love sexualized women, middle fingers, sexual innuendo, violence and profanity.

Speaking of sexualized women, during the 1990's, when you had hardly any sexualized female recording artists save for a few and rock bands who barely sexually objectified women, by the end of the decade, the World Wrestling Federation would have their women's roster, be it from valets like Debra and Terri Runnels to legitimate wrestlers like Ivory and Jacqueline, participate in bikini contests where they'd be judged for their beauty and dressed in bikinis that left nothing to the imagination, and worse, the women's roster would participate in the infamous "bra & panties" and evening gown matches where women would tear each others clothes and dresses off in the ring until they were down to a bra and thong, or they'd wrestle in bikinis in pools of mud or pudding.

To add insult to injury, this was considered "women's wrestling" by the late 90's and some women would end up winning the World Championship belt for participating in matches involving them tearing their clothes off or "wrestling" in bikinis in pools of pudding or mud.

Plus, the World Wrestling Federation during the late 90's was also a time when you had wrestlers playing pimps that would have groups of prostitutes following them and men who would have half naked women cuddled with them.

And worse of all...some wrestlers played characters that would degrade women, from the Rock telling Chyna she "belongs on her knees", Jeff Jarrett being a misogynistic asshole who thinks men are better than women, some racially insensitive Asian men degrading his wife and someone drugging a woman and marrying her through a drive through wedding whilst unconscious.

After a time where you had feminist-esque female recording artists that almost never used sex to sell themselves, wrote their own music and played their own instruments who performed at those Lilith Fair concert tours (tours that featured all female recording artists), male rock bands and singers who didn't sexually objectify women, the NBA launching the Women's NBA playing legit basketball like men and not dressed in skimpy outfits, and the list goes on for days, the World Wrestling Federation now had most of their female roster participate in bikini contests where they were judged for their beauty and women were mostly there to be portrayed as sex objects and nothing else.

It was like this was a backlash towards Lilith Fair and nonsexualized, feminist female singer-songwriters, rock bands that didn't objectify women, and nonsexualized women in the 1990's in general.

Then again, the WWF's Attitude era as it was known as was a product of its time, popular around the same time other trashy pop culture like the Jerry Springer show, Jenny Jones and Ricki Lake's talk shows, Howard Stern, "South Park", Tom Green, Eminem at his most shocking and Marilyn Manson was at the height of his popularity.

Granted, the 1990's weren't completely wholesome, considering this was also the era of gangsta rap that sexually objectified and sometimes even degraded women, "Baywatch" was a popular show that was just an excuse to see beautiful women with silicone breast implants running on the beach in slow motion in tight red swimsuits, Playboy playmates like Pamela Anderson, Jenny McCarthy, and Anna Nicole Smith were popular sex symbols, Howard Stern was a pop culture icon infamous for sexually objectifying women, and there were even some female singers who used sex to sell themselves during the 90's like Madonna, Janet Jackson, Salt N Pepa, TLC, Adina Howard and more, and by the end of the decade we had the Spice Girls, Lil' Kim, Foxy Brown, Mariah Carey becoming more sexualized, Britney Spears, and Jennifer Lopez getting a record deal.

However, for every oversexualized Adina Howard, there was a Mariah Carey or Whitney Houston. For every oversexed Madonna, there was a Tori Amos. For every band that objectified women, there was a band that didn't objectify women.

Speaking of sexualization, you were one of the many bricks in the wall of the oversexualized women's roster during the WWF's Attitude era.

Not only did you participate in a few of those bikini contests, bra & panties and evening gown matches as well as those mud/pudding/gravy matches where you and another woman wrestled in a bikini, but your character you will always be remembered for playing was a scantily clad, nymphomaniac-like slut who was basically the wrestling equivalent to Madonna during her early 90's sex era and a female Val Venis.

From seducing wrestlers while you wore outfits that left little to the imagination, entering the ring wearing nothing but wrestling belts covering your bathing suit areas, cutting wrestling promos while being gangbanged (though your private parts weren't shown on television), rubbing cum on your body like it's lotion (though it wasn't really cum), wearing outfits that exposed your uncovered breasts not even being covered by pasties, wearing shirts that read "Pervert 69" on the back (parodying Janet Jackson's "Pervert" shirt she wore at the 1995 MTV VMA's), and Ministry Undertaker sacrificing you for being a whore, to roleplaying as a urinal while wrestlers jerk off in your mouth or on your face, becoming one of the Godfather's hoes (and you don't mean "The Godfather" as in the Francis Ford Coppola masterpiece), Triple H and Shawn Michaels undressing you until you lay in the ring wearing nothing but a thong and they pulled a bottle of lotion out and squeezed it to simulate ejaculation, and to top it all off, having actual sex in the ring with Val Venis while over 1000 people watched this in the audience and it was broadcast on television.

The WWF was nearly rated TV-MA almost because of you, and was getting boycotts and protests partially because of you.

However, despite many shocking moments that made headline news and caused controversy and nearly got you arrested for obscenity charges, this particular moment was slightly tame in comparison.

Almost near the end of 1998, during one of those "up next" vignettes that had the guitar riff to Slam Jam's "We're All Together Now" playing, you were on all fours on your knees on top of a bench in the locker room.

While you were on all fours on top of this bench, Triple H, Shawn Michaels, Billy Gunn, Val Venis, Christian, Test, Jeff Hardy, Steven Regal and Kane were circled around you, standing on your sides.

Triple H had his long blond hair hanging down, not with a ponytail in the back, Shawn Michaels didn't have his hair tied back in a ponytail, and Billy had his hair hanging down, not tied back in a ponytail or in little braids.

You were wearing nothing but a bra and thong and being filmed from behind, and as you were being filmed, you rolled your ass backward and arched it up a few times.

Your thong was buried and snug in between your ass cheeks, your pantyline covering your vulva.

Thankfully, you were shaved down there, not a single bit of pubic hair peeking out from your panty line or your panties, and you didn't have any bumps on your bikini line and thighs.

These aforementioned wrestlers around you were just staring at your ass rolling back, they all smiled from ear to ear, nearly salivating at your mouths.

These wrestlers surrounding you were cheering for you, Shawn even put his fingers into his mouth and wolf whistled at you.

Jerry Lawler sitting at the commentary table was going nuts, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.

Grown men and underage boys in the audience are getting a massive kick over seeing you roll your ass to the camera, cheering for you and a few of them wolf whistling at you.

Triple H put his hand in one of his jean pockets and pulled out a dollar, where he slipped that dollar in between one of your thong straps.

Shawn, too, put his hand down the pocket of his slacks, where he pulled out a few dollar bills and his other hand stretched out one of your thong straps, putting that money at your hip, only to let go of your thong strap afterward, letting your thong hold that money.

Val and Billy really wish they could have some money to pull out and make it rain on you, though Billy wears those Mr. Ass shorts and Val is known for wearing a Speedo and a towel over it, neither of their outfits have pockets.

"Is that money!?" Jim Ross asked at the commentary table.

"Somebody better get her a pole!" Jerry Lawler exclaimed, his voice shrill as usual.

Indeed, you could use a stripper pole for this moment, but there sadly aren't any poles in the locker room.

You pulled yourself up from the bench, placing your feet on the bench and standing up on top of the bench, but after you got yourself up, you still continued dancing and shaking your ass.

Somebody come get her, she's dancin' like a stripper...

Some of these wrestlers surrounding you pretended to be shocked by when you assembled yourself up from the bench, their eyes bugging out and their mouths dropping open as well as walking a few steps back as if to act like they're shocked, only for them to smile after their mouths were agape.

Once you stood on top of the bench, you placed your hands on your knees and stuck your ass out, rolling your ass backwards and sometimes even shaking and bouncing your ass, basically twerking.

You smiled and your head was slightly turned looking at your rear whilst you rolled your ass backwards, hands on your knees, shakin' ass on your thot shit.

Triple H, Billy, Shawn, and Val were looking at you, smiling from ear to ear, especially Billy Gunn who placed one of his hands on your ass cheeks and squeezed it.

Hey, his nickname is Mr. Ass, that's why he did that.

You turned your body around and gyrated your ass and hips around in a circle, rolling your hips to the beat of the guitar riff of that Slam Jam song, and as you did that, you lifted your hands off of your knees and grabbed one of your bra straps, where you slid that bra strap down on of your arms, teasing the audience.

You looked at the camera filming in front of you with this "come hither" expression on your face.

Just as it looked like you were gonna take your bra off, the camera then cut to commercial.

Bah.

You wanted to do so much during this moment; besides spin around a stripper pole, you also wanted lie on your back on the bench with your legs spread up and shaking your ass, squat down on the bench and spread your legs out with your hands on your knees, but this moment was short.

Y'know, since you were roleplaying as a stripper and some wrestlers were pulling money out and sticking it in your G-string, you're surprised Vince McMahon, the CEO and boss of the WWF and pretty much the Ted Debiase Sr. of the Attitude era (and Ted DeBiase Sr. was known for playing a millionaire in the 80's and early 90's) wasn't in this segment pulling dollar bills out on you.

Though, Vince McMahon is a snake, even when the cameras aren't rolling.

#triple h #shawn michaels #billy gunn #val venis #test #wwf #attitude era #wwf attitude #1998 #90s #fanfiction #jeff hardy #steven regal #christian

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whatanoof · 4 years

Text

Cold Hands and Warm Bodies

Merry Christmas! This is a Secret Santa gift for @autumnleaves1991-blog!

There’s a sequel now!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Whiskey x Reader

Word Count: ~4.7k

Content: fluff, dancing, swearing, oral sex(female receiving), rougher sex, fluffy, smut, there’s a part at the beginning where Reader rejects a man’s advances but it doesn’t get past name-calling

A/N: I liked the idea of a lonely Christmas in a new city turning into something much better through unexpected events, especially since so many are going to be celebrating with less people than normal due to the pandemic. The music referenced is Gasoline by Halsey from her Badlands album.

Your parents had begged you to not complete the move over the holidays, surely it could have waited a couple of weeks so that you could celebrate with your family. But you were decided, and the timeline of your new employment was not up to you. Staying in LA for Christmas wouldn’t have benefited anyone. The confidential nature of your job meant you couldn’t talk about your job with your family, and that’s all that families really want to know besides if you have a boyfriend yet. This left more rumors flying between the aunts than bullets around a battlefield. At this point, you’re pretty sure that your own mother thinks that you’re a prostitute.

Alcohol is an easy option to curb loneliness. The drink burns on the way down, but you savor it. It’s been cold in the new city, and you haven’t been able to shake the chill since moving. Your current choice of atmosphere is the bar closest to your house, leaving you with the freedom to slam as many drinks as would let you forget how alone you are at the time of year when no one should be alone. You don’t have to drive home this way. But now, inside and looking around at the excessive Christmas decorations, you begin to wonder if this was the best way to avoid the holidays.

There are Christmas wreaths all around, draped over as many surfaces as possible. Mistletoe hangs near the corners of the cleared section of floor, and you wouldn’t be surprised if some of those corners were soon occupied by drunk dancers. Lights dangle over the bottles behind the bar, and the bartender is wearing a Christmas elf headband. And to top it all off, most everyone inside has a partner, making you stick out like a sore thumb. Your sole point of luck is that the bar isn’t Western based.

“Well, hello good-looking.”

The moment is shattered by the stranger’s arm around your shoulders, pulling you too close for the small amount of liquor in your body. The brunette man smells like spearmint, but his breath clearly reveals his state of mind.

“The name’s Grey. Now, I heard a little birdie that told me that you’d be coming home with me tonight.” His grin appears genuine, but something glitters in his eyes that sends an icy distrust through your gut.

You turn away. “No thank you.” Better not to give him any attention, drunks are never reasonable if you let them believe for even a second that they have a chance.

“Now that’s not very kind. I was being civil, and you rebuff a poor man who just wants a warm bed tonight. May I at least get the lady’s name so that I can address her properly? Where’s the Southern hospitality? ” You catch a concerned look from the bartender, though there’s no need to worry. This isn’t your first rodeo.

“Nonexistent, Grey.” You grab his wrist, yanking it off of your shoulder.

For a blissful second, the contact is gone, then it returns, and now his fingers are digging into your bare skin. His hands are cold. The handheld taser in your pocket is burning, and you reach for it as he snaps, “Now, there’s no need to be a bi--”

“Hey now,” The new voice is sudden, but there’s a distinctive Southern drawl to the baritone voice that sends pleasant tingles down your spine. Now that is a voice that you could listen to the rest of the night. “The lady said no. And last I checked, Southern hospitality doesn’t apply when said person isn’t Southern.”

The arm around your shoulders vanishes and you slowly reach for your bag. Angry voices echo behind you, but you’re too preoccupied with leaving to worry yourself with the brewing argument. Goddammit you had only come for drinks, and now you might have to duck out before a fight starts.

But the angry voices lower and the normal barroom din returns. You slowly release your bag to rest once again at your feet, and a new man appears on the stool at your elbow.

“Good evening.” It’s the rumbling voice of your faceless Southern gentleman.

He saved you, but that doesn’t mean you can trust him. Feigning disinterest is more difficult now, but you take a sip of your drink and focus hard on how the light from the glass catches the amber liquid. “Thank you for stepping up. Doesn’t happen often.”

“Unfortunately. Mostly for the men if you end up pulling that taser.” The casual observation catches your attention.

You turn and finally look your gentleman in the eye. Oh. You weren’t prepared for him to be so-- gorgeous. That’s really the only word you can summon to your scattered brain at the moment because, damn. Dark hair brings out darker eyes that glimmer warmly in the lowlights of the bar despite the cowboy hat. A mustache accents plush lips. Tan skin and bold features draw you in, and you don’t want to stop looking except he clears his throat and you realize that you’ve been staring for much longer than the appropriate time.

“Is there something on my face?” Your eyes dart back up to his face and you’re struck by how unfair it is that someone can be so effortlessly attractive.

“N-- no!” Stammering, really? Dammit you’re a full grown woman, pull yourself together. “How-- how could you tell I’m not from around here?”

He beckons a finger to you, and you lean in. “I am an undercover operative working with an American based agency that deploys me worldwide to handle top-secret missions.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back to take him in again. The jacket over the tight shirt shows his athletic build rather well, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it were true, “Really?”

“No. It’s the accent.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. The pleased smile spreading over his face matches the one sneaking over your own. “You’re right, I just moved here.” A thought strikes you, “What are you doing alone in a bar during the holidays? No family or friends to visit?”

“None left that mean enough.” The statement is casual enough, except there’s a tension in his voice that makes you hesitate. “And I could ask you the same thing. What motivates a lady to move to a new city, all alone at Christmas?” The tension passes and he waves at the bartender, who immediately turns and starts making a drink. He’s a regular here, apparently.

“A job,” You swirl the remnants of your drink lazily before finishing it, “I’m starting tomorrow.” The last dregs slip down your throat, and the burning buzz will last for now.

“Ah, a beautiful woman and a hard worker. It’s too much for my heart.”

“If that alone is too much, then this is going to be a short evening indeed.” The subtle innuendo doesn’t fly over either of your heads, and you don’t miss the smile spreading across his face when you flirt back.

“I think I may surprise you, darling. We’re both willing to work for what we want.” His drink arrives, and he takes a sip. Heat pools in your core at the implications. “If this evening is going to continue, may I have the lady’s name so that I can address her properly?”

You hum low in your throat in response. You’ve never brought a man home at the first meeting, never allowed flirting to be anything more than that on the first night. But something’s different about this one. In a split second decision, you give it to him.

He repeats the syllables after you, rolling them around his tongue in a way that sends a thrill through you as you wonder what else he can do with it, “Gorgeous. George, another drink for the lady, on my tab.”

You tilt your head back, catching his eyes, “And may I then have the gentleman’s, so that I may know the name of my fearless knight in… shining leather and spurs?”

He laughs, “Jack Daniels.”

“Jack Daniels, like the whiskey brand?”

“Something like that.” His grin is mysterious and seems a little too practiced, but that’s fine with you. You smile back anyway. Your drink arrives, and you raise the glass to Jack as you take a sip, though you find that the burn of the whiskey doesn’t leave you with the same satisfaction.

A song starts playing in the background, and you straighten up and glance over your shoulder at the dance floor. “Wait, I--”

“--love this song.” You both finish the sentence together. You look back at him hopefully, and he looks at you with a bit of a challenge in his eyes.

The stool scrapes across the floor and he rises, extending a hand to you, “Would you care to dance, sweetheart?”

“Depends. Are we going to square dance?”

“Only if you want to, darling.”

“Yes to the dancing, no to the square dancing then.” You accept his hand and walk with him to the center of the dance floor. Your drinks remain abandoned at the bar.

The bassy thrum of the music and crooning vocals keep your hips undulating against his, but Jack has other ideas. He hasn’t let go of your hands, and your arms are crossed over your chest when he draws them up and over your head. Your arms extend and you spin, meeting his eyes as you grasp his hands.

The alternative pop song doesn’t translate perfectly to the style that he brings, but you can hardly complain. Around you, people are grinding against each other, but a small space clears for him to sway and turn with you. It’s surprisingly fun compared to what you knew of night dancing in a bar.

The tempo slows and you step inside his reach so that your back is against his chest.

‘Are you strange like me?

Lightin’ matches just to swallow up the flame like me?’

His breath catches hot and heavy in your ear as you press back into him, savoring every breath and drop of sweat that is your effect on him. The verse fades, and you allow him to lead once again. The melody swells in your head, drowning out everything around you until it’s only him and you. But this time the lyrics make you wonder about the man holding your hands.

‘Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold.’

The music ends with a crescendo and a final spin, and you’re left panting as your gaze locks with Jack’s. He’s holding you firmly, one hand on your waist, and your bodies feeling like they’re steaming in the chilly air. The spell breaks with a single glance upwards from him.

“Well that’s a fine addition to an already wonderful night.” There’s a tinge of amusement in his voice, and you follow his gaze.

The mistletoe hangs directly overhead. You glance down, a thrill of nerves running through your body at the intensity in Jack’s stare. Something must have shown in your eyes or body language, because he relaxes and loosen his grip on your waist.

“Only with your permission of course, darling.” He’s fighting it, but disappointment clouds his tone, and he withdraws. “I understand if it’s not something you wan--”

You cut him off by snagging his collar and pulling him close. The surprise on his face gives way to a smirk as you quip, “Don’t mind if I do, cowboy.”

Then his lips are on yours and you’re melting into him. The bar fades into the background and you lose yourself in a man that you had met three hours ago. He tastes like your drink. Tingles spread through your body as he deepens the kiss, warming you to the tips of your fingers.

Then you’re being pressed backwards until you hit the wall, hands instinctively flying up to tangle in his already messy hair. Something soft and firm brushes your fingertips, and you snag it on instinct, lifting Jack’s hat to plop it on top of your own head. He breaks the kiss, a soft smile spreading over his face when he pulls back to look at you.

“Do I make a good cowgirl?”

“Looks better on you than me, darling.” He kisses you again, hands sliding over your waist down to your ass, and you don’t think that’s a lasso pressing up against you. A low moan rumbles out of his throat, and you stifle a whimper at the sound. He chuckles, “Want to get out of here, cowgirl?”

“Yeah.” Lust boils in your stomach. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from his kiss-swollen lips that part ever so slightly so you can see his tongue flick over them.

“Got any friends to notify of your immediate departure?” His breath ghosts over your skin and his dark eyes flick up from your lips to meet yours, warming your body as you lose yourself in the deep brown.

“No, too new to the city.” You whisper back, the noise of the club fading into the background while a wave of heat crashes over your body, swelling between your legs.

“Your place or mine?”

---

Funny enough, Jack didn’t bring a car either, but he doesn’t explain and you don’t question it. You don’t regret walking the short five minutes to and from the bar, especially when Jack pulls you close to his side as you walk. You’re just passing under the bridge on your street when he stops walking.

“Stop, do you hear that?” You instantly freeze, eyes darting around for any perceivable threat. There’s too many potential hiding places, the shadows of the bridge supports could hide a man of any size and--

“Listen closely…” He hums the tune from the bar and steps away, tugging you forward a couple of steps. He pulls you back into him, and you’re able to hear the melody through the vibrations in his chest.

‘You can’t wake up, this is not a dream.’

You find your rhythm. The tempo picks up, only a shadow in your mind as you sway to the invisible beat. He matches you easily, and the two of you move with an unpracticed ease out from beneath the shadow of the bridge into the streetlight glow. The melody swells, and you laugh when a breeze ruffles your hair. You sing the last line to him.

‘Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold.’

You end up back in his arms, breathing hard and smiling up at Jack. His fingers slip down to interlock with yours, “I can help with that.” You should be freezing, but heat throbs under your skin in time with your racing heart.

He leans in, but just before his lips touch yours, you whisper, “Jack? We’re here.”

His eyes shift over to your front door briefly, then back to you. He grins. “Nice place.”

---

You laugh as you stumble through your front door, your back hitting yet another wall when Jack pins you to the side of the living room. Heated kisses trail down your neck and a muscled thigh slides between yours. You shudder at the contact against your clothed pussy, your heartbeat throbbing between your legs fiercely.

“Jack, bed’s that way.”

“Oh sweetheart, that would be the end goal for sure.” Hands support your rear, and you fold your legs around him. You’re vaguely aware of him walking you towards the door that you indicated, but you can’t bring yourself to pay attention when he’s licking into your mouth and he’s so close and so warm and right there for you to enjoy. He lays you gently on the bed, legs dangling off the edge.

“You want this?” The question is so starkly unexpected that you blink and sit up for a moment. He’s standing there between your legs, hair disheveled and shirt half unbuttoned. His pupils are completely lust-blown and his shoulders are heaving with the heavy breaths he’s taking, and you’re struck with the thought that this is the first time someone has thought to ask. But you’d have to be half-dead to say no now.

“Yes.”

And then he’s undoing your pants and dropping to his knees in front of you. Warm breath ghosts over your exposed skin after he gently peels your pants off. You squirm as large, warm hands rub over your inner thighs. “Beautiful.” But he is too, with the way he glances up at you from between your legs. He’s absolutely beautiful, as he carefully pulls your panties to the side and drags his tongue through your folds.

“You taste better down here, sweetheart.” He immediately concentrates around your clit, tracing lazy circles around the sensitive nub and you forget how to breathe.

Your hips roll against his face, trying to gain more friction than what he’s giving, and you whimper as his mustache leaves a tingling trail on your skin. The heat pooling within your core is begging for more, and you’re close to doing the same as he continues to patiently taste you.

“Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. I’m going to make you feel so good, darling, you’re going to be screaming my name.” A thick finger rests against you, gathering your wetness and continuing to massage against your clit while his tongue finally dips to press against your entrance. You flutter in response, a whine scraping against the back of your throat. His tongue presses deep into your core, and you clench around the insistent pressure.

“Ja-Jack I’m go-gonna--” The words refuse to come smoothly, but he seems to sense your urgency. His tongue returns to your clit, sucking and kissing the flesh while his finger slips into your pussy.

“Come, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” Every flick of his tongue against your clit pulls another whine from you. Fuck, something inside you snaps and then heat is burning through your body. The wave crests, and you dimly hear a choked moan when your floor muscles convulse and heat drips from you.

He continues to taste you long after you’ve stopped convulsing, while the light fades from you vision and you regain feeling in your limbs. And you understand something. He’s tasting you simply to taste you, giving for the sake of giving. You know why you allowed it to get past the flirting stage.

“You doing good, darling?” He climbs up over you and kisses you, lips molding to yours like they were made to. He tastes like you.

You can’t respond, don’t want to when it means pulling away from this moment right now. The only thing you want right now is to stay like this, to stay in this perfect warmth, where the only thing you know is that he’s kissing you and you’re floating on the sheer feeling of being able to give because you feel like it.

Then he shifts, and you feel his erection brush against your thigh. And your gut tells you it’s his turn now. You move your leg, bringing it up between his thighs. It bumps against his length, and he tenses, pulling away and dropping his head to the crook of your neck. And you take the moment to flip the two of you, straddling his hips.

“Give me a second, darling, have to find a condom.” His arm reappears from the edge of the bed with his wallet, but you stop him.

“I have an implant. Are you clean?”

“Last checkup, yes. And I haven’t been with anyone since.”

You smirk, “Well then I see no need.”

He exhales, arms going behind his head as he grins up at you, “I’d have to say, as enjoyable as that just was, seeing you like this?” He shakes his head, “Best part of the night.”

“It’s about to get better.” His dick is velvety hard between your thighs, and you can’t help grinding down on it just a little.

“I’ll believe it when I feel it.” He groans, head falling back against the pillow.

The challenge floats in the air, and you grab both it and his length in a single moment. He’s going to be saying your name soon. Notching it at your entrance, you sink down in a single motion. He drags against your insides so perfectly, fitting to you and filling you so completely. Your back arches at the burning stretch, but all you can focus on is Jack’s groan when your butt meets his hips, how his body seizes under you, and how his hands fly to clutch at you.

But his cock inside you isn't enough, you need more contact, need to know that he’s right there with you. You grab his wrists and drag his hands up to your breasts, relishing the moan that escapes him as he squeezes them.

Your name echoes through the air, followed by his gasping breaths as you raise yourself off of him and sink back down. The heat starts building inside you again. His hips jerk up into you, seemingly unintentionally. “God, fucking perfect. Feel so good around me. Not gonna last, not after earlier, please sweetheart.”

You grind down onto him, finding your rhythm again. The fire inside of you is constant and overtaking you. It swells on its own without needing anything else besides Jack, who’s looking up at you like you’re the only star in the sky.

“You look so good bouncing on my dick, cowgirl, but I’m going to have you under me, squirming for me while I get you to keep making all of those cute noises. I’ll be-- fuck!” His breath catches and his hands dig into the flesh of your hips, and a voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re going to have bruises tomorrow. You can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

You fight to retain your own rhythm, but it’s unsustainable, and your screaming muscles wear down in the face of Jack’s strength. They give out, and you’re caught in the rhythmic slapping of skin as Jack takes over.

“Ja- Jack! Fuck!” You can’t organize yourself enough to think, let alone acknowledge him while he continues to drive up into you. The ragged cries ripped from your throat lose all coherency. It’s too much, and the orgasm rising through your body is taking your mind with it. A hand detaches from your waist and presses directly against your clit, rocketing you further towards your climax. “Jack!”

“Come on sweetheart, I know you’ve got another in you. Let go. Let me take care of you.”

Your own orgasm hovers at the edge of your mind, but you shove it away in favor of tripping his. His breaths are coming heavier now, and his hips continue to slam upwards into yours. He’s going to outlast you at this rate, unless--

A hand grips your neck just enough that you register the pressure, and he drags you down against his body. The world flips around once more, and then you’re underneath him instead and his arms are planted on either side of your head as he-- fuck. The pace increases, no it must multiply by some large number because your body is shaking with every thrust, and the headboard is slamming against the wall and you’re glad that you don’t share these walls with anyone else. Your cry is muffled by his mouth, but the new angle causes him to drive up against something inside you that you swear makes you see a corner of heaven.

It spikes with a fury, driving you over the edge as you clamp down around him. Your body seizes, arching against Jack as the shockwaves claim your body. You’re rocketed somewhere high above the clouds for the second time tonight, and all you can really comprehend is how happy you are that you brought him home. And through the haze, you faintly hear him purring in your ear, “Good girl, pretty girl, gorgeous. Gorgeous.”

He keeps fucking you through your high, and you need him to cum. You need him to feel the same bliss that you do, and you know how to do it. The idea barely crosses your mind before your body accepts it, and your floor muscles clamp down almost of their own volition. He falters, and a gasp is the only sound you hear before he’s coming. His hips piston out and in one last time, and then he’s spilling deep inside you.

When the light fades from behind your eyes, you feel yourself being shifted. Your combined juices trickle down your leg as he pulls out, and your back is pressed against his chest. You drift, blinking in and out of consciousness. You feel him rise from behind you and then hear the sound of running water. He returns moments later, and there’s a damp cloth cleaning between your legs before he’s back in bed behind you, arms locked around your waist and pulling you close. His fingers intertwine with yours over your belly, and as they brush against the skin of your stomach, you realize that they aren’t cold anymore. He drags the comforter over your bodies.

The world around you is dissolving in a haze of exhaustion, but his voice rumbles through the fog. You’re so comfortable and warm, and by all rights you should be asleep. But you force yourself back to the world of waking, enough to hear him thanking you as he plants slow kisses along the back of your neck. The delicious warmth of his skin against yours draws you farther under and stifles the confusion at the statement, and you finally surrender to the exhaustion pulling at your body.

---

Your phone alarm wakes you the next morning to an empty bed.

Realistically, you shouldn’t have expected him to be there, shouldn’t have hoped that it could have been more than a one time thing. Right? You’re a certified badass, a top-rated handler at Statesman Distillery who has guided multiple agents and friends through life and death scenarios. You deal in realism and pessimism. You have had one night stands before, none of which led to any kind of connection. You don’t need emotional connection to function. This shouldn’t be any different. Right?

Except you know how you normally feel after one night stands, and this isn’t it.

You’re on autopilot as you shower and dress for your first day. All you can think about is the warmth of his hands as they ran over your skin, his smirk as he caught your eye, mouth glistening with your release. His quiet ‘thank you’ last night as he curled his body around yours before falling asleep. If you could have had a say, you would have wanted more than one night. A second chance, maybe, but it’s not like you get many of those these days.

Statesman Distillery is across the street from last night’s bar, and the brisk air helps to clear your head and prepare you mentally. As soon as you walk through those doors, you’re Agent Seltzer, not a girl pining for a man whom you barely know beyond his name. You hesitate under the bridge on your way to work. The music echoes in your ears and chest. You keep walking.

The receptionist directs you to your new office. Top floor, third door on the left. It’s roomier than your last one, though now you’re at HQ, not the LA branch office. A woman meets you at the elevator. She is slight, but her steely composure and short cut hair give her an air of maturity and ability.

“Good morning and Merry Christmas, Seltzer.” She’s holding a basket with a label that reads ‘Happy First Day!’ “I’m Ginger Ale, the head overseer of the base-side handlers, and I’ll be giving you the basic acclimation on your first day. Sorry that it had to be a holiday, but an impending crisis in Chicago has just taken a turn for the worse. The mission briefing has been sent to your tablet.”

Your brow furrows slightly, and she continues as if she could read your internal question. “This isn’t usually my job, but it’s the holidays and most of the other agents trained in onboarding are on leave. We’re throwing you into the deep end on your first day, unfortunately, but your superiors at the LA branch assured us that you would take to it naturally.”

She sets the gift basket on your desk, and you notice the largest item in the basket is a bottle of the famed Statesman whiskey. You idly take it out and study the label. “Interesting first day gift.”

Ginger shrugs with a faint smile, “That’s directly from your assigned field agent, Agent Whiskey. He gifts those to his new handlers.”

“Any reason why?”

“He--” She seems to start to say something, then stops herself, “It’s an early apology. He’s experienced, and he operates as he sees fit. He burns through handlers faster than a hot knife through butter.”

The challenge floats above your head at the explanation, and you take it. “I’m assuming that I will get to meet Agent Whiskey before our official briefing?”

“Yes,” Ginger checks her watch, “In about… two seconds.”

“Sweetheart.” The voice is achingly familiar, and memories of last night crash over you like a heatwave. Second chances, hm?

Part Two if anyone cares for it

#pedros12daysofchristmas #smut #fluff #agent whiskey #kingsman #statesman #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #ginger ale makes a cameo and is a tired badass

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jaehyunfirstlove · 4 years

Text

Highway to Heaven - Ch. 6

Your best friend Johnny wants to go on a road trip. The only catch? He wants to bring his roommate, Jeong Jaehyun, someone you just couldn’t stand.

Genre: e2l, fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

Warnings: Just some swearing

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @sehunniepot @jaejoongiewifey-blog @glxwingstar @sleep-is-all-i-seek (send me a message if you want to be tagged)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

A/N: No smut in this chapter, sorry :)

You woke to someone whistling, and looking over you saw Johnny packing his suitcase. When he saw movement from you he sighed dramatically.

“Well look who’s finally awake!” he said sarcastically, “come on and pack up, Y/N, time to head home.”

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, feeling amazingly well-rested. You were in the middle of piecing together what happened the night before when Jaehyun emerged from the bathroom. He saw that you were awake, but then averted his eyes.

“I’ll go pack up the car,” he said quickly, grabbing Johnny’s suitcase right out of his hands, picking up his own on the way by, and sprinting out the door. Johnny looked at his retreating figure quizzically.

“What’s up with him?” he wondered, and then it hit you. The hazy events of the night before started to come back to you, but in flashes, like an erotic movie on fast forward. You felt the blush creep up your neck and onto your face, mortification the weakest description for what you were feeling at that moment.

“Oh my god,” you whispered under your breath. What the fuck is wrong with you, you reprimanded yourself. You covered your face with both your hands, wondering if you could spend the rest of the trip like that and not have anyone question it.

“Let’s go, Y/N,” Johnny called, walking out the door. You got out of bed and quickly packed up, taking a deep breath before you opened the door to face your fate. Your heart was pounding when you got to the car, and it absolutely sank when Johnny called out to you. “Hey if you don’t mind I’m taking the backseat, I didn’t sleep well in that bed last night so I wanna take a nap.”

You looked at Jaehyun, who was sitting in the driver’s seat staring straight ahead. He didn’t turn to you when you got into the car, just put it in drive and maneuvered out of the parking lot.

---

There was a heavy silence for the first part of the drive, just the sound of Johnny softly snoring in the backseat. You couldn’t stand it anymore so you finally spoke up.

“Is it okay if I play some music?” you asked. Jaehyun nodded, his eyes never leaving the road in front of him. He also kept a death grip on the steering wheel, not his usual one hand on the wheel, one hand on the console between you. You could see his knuckles turning white. You had to address this before he combusted.

“Listen Jaehyun, about last night…” you couldn’t look at him as you spoke, but he didn’t respond, so you looked up at him cautiously. He looked like he was in pain. “I’m really, really sorry for making you do… that.”

“You didn’t make me,” he responded quietly, “I agreed to it.”

“Yeah, well, it was wrong of me to put you in that position. I’m sorry.”

He visibly relaxed, his shoulders finally slumping and his hands slackening a little on the steering wheel. “It’s okay, I didn’t mind. It felt nice to make you feel good like that.” He hazarded a careful smile as he finally looked over at you.

Again you didn’t know how to feel, should you be insulted that he enjoyed it, or should you be flattered that he wanted to make you feel good? It was all so maddening to you. His entire existence affected you in a way you’d never been affected by anyone or anything before in your life. Just his presence mere inches from you had an exhilarating effect that you couldn’t escape, no matter how hard you tried.

“Yeah, well, thanks then, I guess.” You really didn’t know what to say at that point.

“You’re welcome,” he said sincerely.

“Let’s forget about it then, okay? We can pretend it never happened, and I promise I won’t ask you to do anything like that ever again.” You looked at him expectantly.

His face fell slightly, his smile faltering, but he quickly regained his composure and nodded. “For sure, not a problem.”

Wanting to change the subject and also to fill the silence you picked up your phone. “Hey, what’s your instagram?”

He looked over at you in surprise, before he turned back to the road and smiled. “It’s just my name, I’m boring like that.”

You opened instagram on your phone and quickly found him, pressing the follow button. You scrolled through his page, filled with pictures of the night sky, and not much else.

“Wow, you really are boring,” you teased, but as you scrolled you came across a picture of him. He was sitting at a table, probably in a restaurant, the person taking the picture sitting directly across from him. He had his hands clasped in front of him, staring at the picture taker with a soft expression. “Hm, this is a nice picture of you.”

He looked over to see which one you meant, and just nodded. “My ex took that picture.”

“Which one?” you scoffed, and you instantly regretted your words when you saw how his face fell.

“Sorry,” you said in a meek voice.

“No, it’s okay, I deserved that.” He sighed. You should have left it, it really wasn’t your business, but you were dying to know.

“What’s the story anyway? With all those girls that you date. Are you really a ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ type of guy?” You tried to keep your tone light, knowing the subject itself was anything but light. He was quiet for a long time and you thought he might be mad at you for asking. “Forget it, sorry I asked.”

He blew out a breath, and you really thought he was going to lay into you, but instead he poured out his heart.

“It’s, um, it’s a problem, for sure,” he began, and you involuntarily leaned closer as if he was going to tell you the secrets of the universe, “I thought I could find, you know, ‘the one’ as they call it, but it turned out to be harder than I thought. Not that I thought it would be easy, but I figured she was out there, you know? But with each person I dated, I just wasn’t feeling it.”

“Were you being too picky maybe?” you offered.

He nodded thoughtfully, “I mean, yeah? I thought maybe I should give it a chance sometimes, but why prolong something that you know isn’t going anywhere? I usually knew by the end of the first date.”

“So wait, all of these women were just first dates?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“So…. you weren’t, you know,” at this point you made a hole with one hand and the motion of your finger going through it with the other. If Johnny were awake he would have smacked you upside the head for being so juvenile.

Jaehyun just shook his head. “No, I didn’t have sex with them.”

You were floored. All this time you thought he was a sex machine, thinking he was bringing these women home to bed them and that’s why you and Johnny couldn’t hang out at their place.

“So when you were bringing them back to your apartment and Johnny and I were banned from hanging around, you weren’t banging them?” you had to ask.

He laughed. “No, I was cooking for them. It’s my thing.” He shrugged.

You didn’t know what to say. You’d had the wrong idea about him all this time, just like Johnny had said. You could hear Johnny’s voice in your head: you have the wrong idea about him, Y/N. Your mouth dropped open in shock. You could already hear Johnny gloating: told you so, told you so!

“It’s so lame, I know,” he chuckled humorlessly, “the last one really threw me though.”

“Why?” you asked, sincerely curious, “Did you have feelings for her?”

“No, it was the same story, but this time I decided to give it a chance. It got to the point where she really fell for me, but I couldn’t reciprocate her feelings and I felt terrible. I had to break it off, and she was furious. She blamed me for leading her on, told me I was a ‘lost boy who would never find love’ and threw me out of her house. I was at my lowest point and Johnny felt bad for me, so he suggested I go on this trip with you guys. So that’s why I’m here.”

You instantly felt like a sack of shit. Not only did you misjudge him so badly, you treated him like crap when all he needed was a fun time with friends.

“Oh fuck, I’m so lame,” you cursed yourself, “I’m so sorry.”

He smiled weakly. “Johnny told me what you thought of me, he said I should explain myself to you but I figured people believe actions over words, right? So I thought I could charm you but that backfired magnificently.”

You could only laugh. The two of you were like two dumb peas in a pod. “We’re both lame,” you lamented dramatically, at which point he threw his head back and laughed, a sound so beautiful to your ears you wanted to bottle it and keep it forever. Not to mention that when he laughed like that, the dimples in his cheeks got impossibly deep and his nose scrunched ever so cutely. You knew you were in deep trouble now.

“What’s so damn funny?” Johnny had woken up and clearly was not happy about it.

“Sorry,” Jaehyun looked in the rearview mirror to address Johnny, “Y/N was being funny.” He looked over at you and winked, you stuck your tongue out at him playfully. Johnny watched the two of you, the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement.

“Wait, does that mean the two of you are-” here he slapped his hand over his mouth in shock, “friends now?”

“Shut up,” you shot back, “I know this was all part of your plan. Go ahead and gloat, I’ll just ignore you.” You put in your airpods and pretended that you were listening to music.

“Finally!” Johnny yelled, clapping Jaehyun on the shoulders, “Told you she wasn’t a stuck-up, judgmental, annoying little brat!”

“Hey!” you turned around and punched him hard in the shoulder, “I heard that!”

---

For the rest of the drive Johnny alternated between expressing his relief at the two of you finally getting along, and teasing you about Jaehyun’s charms.

“You know that Jaehyun can cook, right? That means he’s good with his hands.” Johnny stated, smirking at the innuendo. If he only knew, you thought. You looked over at Jaehyun and his ears had turned red.

“I’m sure he is.” You couldn’t help yourself. Jaehyun shot you a panicked look, before he laughed nervously. “Maybe I can come over one day and you can cook for all of us.” You looked over to see his reaction.

He smiled widely and nodded. “I’d love that.”

“Look at this! We’re all one big, happy family!” Johnny put his arms around both you and Jaehyun’s shoulders. You looked at your best friend and smiled. He was genuinely happy. You could only imagine how upsetting it was for him to have two people in his life who were very important to him, not be able to get along. You felt bad for putting him through that just because you were stubborn, and just as you were about to open your mouth to apologize he dropped a bomb.

“And since we’re all so close now, we can all share the one king size bed in the motel tonight since it was the last room I was able to get.” He winked and shot finger hearts at you, and you wondered if there were any good places nearby to dispose of a body.

---

He was true to his word that night, climbing into the bed on one side and motioning for you and Jaehyun to get in with him.

“Come on in, I don’t bite. But I can if you want me to.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Jaehyun played along, giggling and covering his mouth demurely with his hand. You rolled your eyes. They really did belong together.

“You get in the middle then,” you addressed Jaehyun, “so you two lovebirds can be together.” Jaehyun laughed and got into the bed, and you followed, turning off the lights. With the lights on the mood could be playful and fun, but as soon as it was dark the seriousness of the situation hit you. You were so keenly aware of Jaehyun’s body beside you. You could hear him breathing, could see his chest rise and fall in the dim light. You could smell the faint musky scent of his cologne. There was no way you could fall asleep.

Jaehyun seemed to be having the same problem. Because of the lack of space, he wasn’t able to bring in an extra pillow to hug to help him fall asleep. He tossed and turned, sometimes kneeing or elbowing Johnny in the process, but Johnny slept like the dead and would only grunt and then turn over. This wouldn’t do.

“Do you need to hug something?” you whispered.

“It’s okay, there’s no space. I’ll manage.” He reassured you. But he sighed, and so you mustered up your courage.

“You can hug me, if you want,” you offered, “Just hug.” You felt like you should specify. He was quiet for a while so you thought he’d fallen asleep, but then you felt him turn towards you, his arm snaking around your waist.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he whispered in your ear, and you involuntarily shuddered at his proximity. He felt good. His arm around you felt good. His body firm against your back felt good.

“Yeah,” you answered him, closing your eyes and finally giving in to the feelings you had been trying to hold back. “I’m really sure.”

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #nct imagines

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fairiesdowntheroad · 3 years

Text

la la lost u | h.js

summary: joshua left you behind for new york,to chase his dreams as a performer.he promised you that long distance would work,but both of you gradually lost yourselves in two different places.

genre: heart-wrenching angst,shua being an fboi,yn being kinda stupid

warnings:swearing,mentions of sexual innuendos,a lot of tears shed

A/N : I strongly suggest you listen to la la lost you by NIKI while reading this.It’s one of my favourite songs at the moment,and the song reminded me of cheol at first,but i decided that writing this about shua would make more sense

While I'm on Sunset, are you on the subway?

While I drive, are you gettin' on the L-train?

You’d always be wondering what would he be doing now.You stayed in Los Angeles,where you both grew up in.You’d experience beautiful sunsets while driving through the city,which you used to do with him.He on the other hand,moved to New York,to chase his dreams.

You were devastated at first,but you couldn’t stop him from leaving,you didn’t want to cut his wings,so you let him go.He dreamt of being a performer,making it big in the entertainment industry,but at what cost?

He’d lose a lot of things,the beautiful sunsets he watched with you,the lively atmosphere which would feel nostalgic to him,and now he’d be taking the L-Train in a busy,gloomy city.You hope he hates it there.

And fuckin' on Brooklyns in Brooklyn

Your Chelseas in Chelsea

Hope that eases the pain, so you remember to miss me

Joshua promised that everything would be fine,he promised that you’d both still be in the loving relationship you both were in.He made so much promises,yet he couldn’t even keep his word to one.

When he first left,everything went fine.There were messages every hour from the both of you,video calls every night filled with giggles and ‘i love yous’.You really thought it would be alright for him to be far away.

He managed to join a company and started to record songs.He’d tell you the progress of everything,when he would start to record the music video,the songs he wrote,and so much more.You enjoyed listening to him,knowing he was happy.

The hole in your heart that he mad when he left was starting to heal,until he tore it all down again.As months went on,the messages started to come mostly from you,and all you got were short replies.

You didn’t make anything of it at first,he was probably busy anwyays you thought.Video calls were only on weekends now,with his excuse that ‘he was getting busier recording songs’,what a liar.

If only you hd put the pieces together quicker,maybe you would have saved yourself from getting hurt.He’d been cheating on you for two months.

He cheated on you with this girl called Vanessa,who the hell even gets his pants tangled with a girl called Vanessa? She was pretty,you’ll admit,but she was such a bitch.Of course she was,she had sex with him!

You found out about them when you were calling with him,he had picked up.You were at home,lying on your bed after a day of attending exhausting classes in university.”Hey Vanessa sweetie” he cassually said.You were not surprised at first,Joshua had always called you sweetie throughout your relationship,but when you replayed what he said in your head again,you started getting suspicious.

“Who is Vanessa and why are you calling her sweetie?” you questioned.He didn’t say anything for a few seconds,he strangely just stayed silent.You were freaking out and thoughts began to race in your head.

Joshua cleared his throught before replying “Oh I just got her name mixed up with yours”.Feeling unsatisfied from his answer and starting to feel angry,you decided to speak again

“You didn’t answer my question,Shua.Who is she?” You pursed your lips and clenched your fists into tight balls.An ache started to form in your stomach as tears welled up in your eyes.

“She’s...she’s no one okay? Don’t worry about it.” Joshua said.He felt nervous,his palms were sweating and heart started racing.He didn’t mean to call you Vanessa,it just...slipped from his mouth.He had contemplated on telling you the truth,but he knew you would erupt if you found out.

“If she was no one,why would you call her sweetie?”

Shit,you put him in a tight spot now.He opened his mouth to say something in return but,his words had failed him.He knew he should have never slept with Vanessa from the start,his moral compass wouldn’t allow that.Joshua sighed,not knowing what to say. He’d just have to come clean.

“I’m sorry.I’m so sorry” he squeaked out.The atmosphere was hushed.He was petrified to know what your reply was.

Everything started to click.The reason he couldn’t text that much,the reason calls were only for weekend,and those short short replies.

He had been cheating on you,and you couldn’t put all the pieces together.Your jaw dropped and your eyebrows raised.The tears that were welled up started to fall freely now,you were crestfallen to see how unloyal he was.

“Sorry doesn’t fix everything you idiot.” you said before hanging up.You curled up into a ball and bawled your eyes out for..god who knows how long? The person you devoted your heart to,your other half, he was just another cassanova.

The worst part was that,he didn’t even try to call you back.

All my demons run wild

All my demons have your smile

In the city of angels, in the city of angels

It had been a month after you ended things with him. It was tough at first,you frequently saw him posting on his social media about how he was still living his normal life even after he tore your heart out.There were photos of Vanessa,which made you even more pissed.

You decided to delete everything that contained him in your phone,you blocked his number,even if your heart felt like it was so wrong to do so,but you couldn’t stay hung up over him forever.

You told your friends what happened between you and Joshua,all of them were super supportive on your side and said that he was stupid for playing with your feelings,but you still felt numb.

Deciding to move on and try to date other people even became a problem because of him.They all reminded you of him.Sometimes it was his hair,his eyes,his laughter,and his smile.

God,whenever you noticed that somebody had the same smile as him,your heart sank.He was so stupid to throw you away just like that,yet he’d still stay in your mind.

Hope New York holds you

Hope it holds you like I do

While my demons stay faithful

In the city of angels

As time passed on,you learned to let go.You started to be a normal person again,the person you were meant to be.You started talking to your friends more,going out more,you were getting back on track again.

While recovering,you managed to bring yourself closer to Wonwoo.He was one of your chilldhood friends who you grew up with,and had always stayed.

Wonwoo is one of the kindest people you know.He was the type of person you could tell anything to,and he would listen.In fact,he was one of the few people who you told first about the breakup.

He had just listened and comforted you with kind words when you broke down telling him what happened.He assured you that you were not the one at fault,and from then on you were always by his side.

You started getting closer to Wonwoo from that day,offering to go out to cafes and have lunch or dinner together whenever there was a little window of time in your schedule.Most of your time was gradually starting to go to Wonwoo..and then you started catching feelings.

Wonwoo had also confessed to you first,it was when you were having lunch together at a small cafe where you lived nearby.You were chewing your food when he suddenly blurted out “I’m in love with you.We should date”

You were surprised at first,but you accepted his offer and from then on,were one strong hell of a couple.

You didn’t expect to get into another relationship affter Joshua,but Wonwoo proved that it was okay to love again.He had got you to heal.Soon after,you fell head over heels for him,and Joshua slipped from your mind.

You unblocked Joshua after some time,you had made peace with what happened.He did follow you on social media again,he even saw your posts with Wonwoo,but he didn’t say anything though.It wasn’t like you were expecting him to.

You learned to close the chapter of Joshua in your life.The chapter had ended,and now there was a new one that began with Wonwoo.

Joshua would just stay as a memory,and you were gonna be fine with it.

#svt fluff #svt angst #svt fics #svt imagines #svt x reader #joshua hong #joshua x reader #joshua fluff #joshua imagines

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jalapeno-princess · 4 years

Text

Bad For You Chapter 2

Fuckboy Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst (tiny bits of fluff if you look hard enough) and a lot of swearing

Word Count: 8.8K

“Will you stop that?”

The loud clicking of Mark’s pen was getting on your nerves. You’ve been tutoring him for over a week now and you’d be lying if you said your study sessions were a breath of fresh air.

He followed your instructions from the day you agreed to tutoring him and surprisingly showed up to the library before you did. In the first two days of helping him complete assignments, he gave you such a hard time.

It first started off with snarky remarks about how you weren’t “living your best life” and that one day, you would look back on your college years; regretting spending most of your time with your face buried in books and wishing you got more involved in exciting events like the ones he normally would attend.

You learned how to develop a large amount of patience when working alongside the older boy; all his sarcastic comments and failed attempts to flirt with you—which you assumed was his way to get under your skin—seemingly constantly got on your nerves.

However, on the third day, his whole demeanor and the way he was treating you; as if you weren’t doing him the biggest favor in making sure that he passed all of his classes with flying colors, took a 360 degree turn. It’s as if his cockiness and narcissism disappeared in the snap of a finger; like he had an on and off switch because he knew that you would drop him as soon as you felt like he wasn’t taking your assistance seriously. You found it extremely shocking just how much of a fast learner he was.

Matter of a fact, it was as if he already knew most of the material—so you just assumed he lacked motivation. Mark was extremely intelligent and you had a hard time understanding why his grades lacked to show just how smart he really was. He claimed that he was afraid of failing, yet that decision was all up to him.

If only he put in as much effort in to his education as he did with his friends and the many parties they would throw, then maybe he wouldn’t be moments away from flunking his junior year of college. You tried your best to stay away from him; you made it very clear to Mark on the first day that you were only there to help him with his homework.

Before your first session started, you made sure to inform him that you had a list of rules that he needed to follow if he wanted to continue receiving your support with his studies. Nobody was to know about your meetups; the last thing you wanted was to be the talk of your university.

Being seen with Mark—whether or not people knew the reason why the two of you were spending time together—would definitely get you in to some kind of trouble and unlike most of your female classmates who would throw themselves at the big headed boy, you wanted no part in anything that included him.

He was also to focus solely on school. You didn’t want him talking about his personal life—nor did you want him bringing up his friends, his extracurricular activities or his past conquests in to any conversation. You were his tutor and you made it a fact to make sure he understood that’s all you were ever going to be to him.

The two of you could never be friends, nor did you see him wanting to be involved with you in any way—therefore, it worked out perfectly. So far, he did as you instructed him and thankfully, he wasn’t as much of a pain in the ass as you were expecting him to be. Maybe he was absolutely positive that if you didn’t agree to tutoring him, he stood no chance in graduating.

There were days where your mind was boggled; he showed tremendous growth in the way that he completed his assignments. Sure, the answers he would write down weren’t always correct, but at least he was trying.

You told yourself that you’d give him a week to decide whether or not he was actually serious about his education in order to continue with supporting him and surprisingly only one week in and he was working on each and every single paper or homework assigned to him. He even went back and completed missing assignments which caused you to sit back in disbelief. Who was this newly motivated person and what did he do with the snarky asshole Mark Tuan you’ve grown to loathe for quite some time now?

“Stop what?”

“Clicking your pen. You always do that. You’re distracting me. I’m trying to do my own work here.”

You didn’t have to look at him to know that he was now wearing a smirk on his stupidly handsome face. It was in the tone of his voice; cheeky and coy—there were only a few occasions where he would try and flirt with you or what you assumed was flirting, you didn’t think Mark would consider you to be someone he’d find all that attractive.

Although you barely knew anything about him, everyone and their mothers were aware that Mark Tuan had a specific type. Or well, at least all the girls he fooled around with looked similar in some way. He preferred girls on the shorter side with long, silky locks, a tiny waist and petite figure.

They were also extremely beautiful; you believed you were the complete opposite of what he considered desirable. Yet, he would throw in sexual innuendos like how he’d much rather do you than his homework. Then again, it was probably his way of trying to get a rise out of you and you were very vocal about how he was walking on thin ice the longer he continued to joke around with you.

None of that mattered though; you’ve made yourself immune to his many antics and if ever his words did have an effect on you, you’d remind yourself that it was only the cause of any kind of male attention since you weren’t used to talking to guys for longer than needed to.

“Oh, so you pay attention to my mannerisms? That’s sexy—“

You scoffed at his assumption. This was definitely going to be a long day. It’s only been fifteen minutes and you were so close to slamming your head against your textbook in aggravation.

“Shut up Tuan. It’s a pet peeve of mine and highly annoying, of course I caught on to it. How far are you in to your abstract?”

He sent you a smirk and you were quick to avoid his gaze; taking his computer as he handed it over to you. You began to skim through the paragraphs—after observing him in the last week, you weren’t all that shocked with the fact that he actually did a good job. This abstract was for his biology class; he had to come up with a project that had to do with saving the earth and Mark decided to do his on biodegradable plastic.

“I’m not going to lie, you did a pretty good job. But this is just the abstract, I expect a lot more effort when you start working on your actual research.”

He hummed in agreement before taking back his laptop and typed away at the keys. The two of you sat in silence, but for the first time it was peaceful. It wasn’t awkward at all and you were grateful for the lack of animosity and tension in the atmosphere. Not that there ever really was though; Mark was a great conversationalist—but you never wanted to listen to what he had to say.

“Hey y/n, I um—I’m throwing a party on Friday night and I was—I was wondering—um—well—would you maybe want to—you should come. It’ll be fun.”

This question stopped you in your tracks; not only was it out of the blue and completely unlike Mark to ask you something he already knew the answer to, but he sounded very nervous? Or was it hesitance? His now shy demeanor wasn’t something you were used to seeing.

In all your years of knowing him, you could honestly admit that this was the first time you’ve ever heard Mark stutter while inviting you to a party he was throwing. Although the two of you already discussed the fact that partying wasn’t your thing and that you would never even come within a few miles of whatever location it was that the celebration would be held at, you weren’t all too surprised at his sudden invitation.

Mark portrayed himself to be the kind of person who didn’t take no for an answer. Even if you said no to the college night life, it was evident that he was going to try and get you to change your mind for whatever reason; probably to say that he was the first person who actually succeeded in getting you to attend a college party. Anyone and everyone who knew of you personally understood that the type of people Mark involved himself with were not your crowd at all.

“That’s a joke right? You can’t be serious. I know you’re well aware that I don’t go to shit like that—“

“Why not y/n? I’m telling you, it’s going to be one hell of a time. You said so yourself, you’ve never attended any party nor have you ever gone out to a bar or a club, so you’d have no idea what it’s like. Friday is Jackson’s 23rd birthday and birthday celebrations are much more exciting than our normal events. There will be great music, good food, plenty of people—“

“Sex, weed, drugs, shitty alcohol, assholes who don’t know their limits and just assume a woman wants to sleep with them just because they’re wearing something revealing? Yeah, no thank you. Life isn’t just about fucking and getting high off of illegal substances, you know that right?”

The scowl on his face—the way his brows were furrowing as he bit the inside of his cheek made it evident that he did not like one word coming out from your mouth. Honestly, neither did you. You weren’t like this at all. Even if you didn’t like someone or didn’t agree with the way they went about with their life, you never gave your opinion because who were you to tell them what to do?

Who were you to judge their decisions and the choices they made? However, you wanted a way to get Mark in to opening his eyes to the toxic life he was currently living. You wanted him to know why he wasn’t doing too well in school; that his habits were destructive and that he needed to make decisions that would benefit his future—not his college self who only cared about temporary happiness and the high that came with being so high up on the social ladder.

“God y/n, who fucking hurt you? Why are you so harsh? Is that all you believe I care about? Sex? Money? Partying? It’s none of your business, but I care about so much more than what you assume I do. Not that it concerns you, but so what if I like to drink? So what if I like to smoke pot and have fun with my friends? I’m young, I have every right to have fun—“

“I didn’t say you couldn’t—“

“But you’re trying to make me feel bad for doing so. You think you’re such a great person just because you’re smart and you do well in school. News flash y/n, nobody likes a teacher’s pet. You guys think you’re better than everyone else just because you don’t get involved in the things that people like me do, but it doesn’t make you all the more greater than me. Maybe you’re not getting fucked, that’s why you have such a stick in your ass—“

Was this really happening right now? Sure, you were wrong for trying to paint him out to be the bad guy; especially because you had no idea what really went on in his life. Everything you were confronting him about was solely based on hearsay.

Why did it bother you so much? The decisions he made for himself—living the kind of life he was currently living, why was it any of your business? He’s right—how he went about his day didn’t concern you. What he did in his free time wasn’t had nothing to do with you. Was it because of what your professor said the other day about how he was capable of greatness, but he was choosing to go down a path of destruction?

Did you see something in him? Did you also believe that he could be more successful in his education if only he were to make it his number one priority? Of course you did? He proved to you multiple times this week that he wanted to do so much better and that he wasn’t incompetent or ignorant.

He was trying—that’s all that mattered. What was so hard with acknowledging his efforts? If he was willing to take the time out of his schedule—even if you were well aware that studying and working on assignments were more important that whatever he normally did—than shouldn’t you be a little more amiable? You said so yourself, you didn’t hate him.

So why were you treating him so harshly? It wasn’t fair to him—but you didn’t have a plausible answer and the last thing you’d ever do was show any ounce of concern for the older boy.

“That’s not true. You know nothing about me Mark—“

“You don’t know jack shit about me either y/n yet here you are—claiming I’m some fucking nymphomaniac who needs to constantly shoot up drugs to be happy. Fuck, my effort—my constant need of approval from you—staying up till three in the morning working on those stupid fucking essays—they mean nothing to you huh? I’m always going to be a loser in your eyes—“

You don’t know what it was, but now you really felt bad for the way you attacked him out of nowhere. All he did was ask you to go to his party; you could have just said no. But now the truth was coming out and you felt like such a terrible person.

“That’s not true Mark—“

“Bullshit y/n. I could become valedictorian and I’d still be a delinquent—a no good prick in your eyes.”

Something in your body wanted to reach out to him, for reasons you didn’t think you’d ever be able to understand. Maybe it’s because you wrongfully accused him of being the person you assumed he was—only to find out he was far from what people painted him out to be. But you silenced the voice as soon as it appeared; if he were to find out that you were now filled with remorse, he would hold it against you. You’ve never seen Mark so upset before and you were so irritated with yourself for being the reason behind his anger. He was as much human as he was the cocky fuckboy he had a reputation of being.

“Mark I—“

“You know what? I think it would be best for us to end it here today. I just remembered I have somewhere to be and no—before you assume, I’m not going to go get high and fuck the first person I lay my eyes on.”

He didn’t even give you a second to respond to his spiteful words; he yanked at his backpack and threw it over his shoulder before storming away from the table. God, what was wrong with you? What did you just do? Not once in your life would you ever have thought that you’d be put in a situation where you’d feel apologetic for something you caused.

This was all your fault. You couldn’t blame Mark for this one—as much as you wanted to say he instigated this entire argument by asking you a question he should have already known the answer to, maybe he felt like the two of you were civil enough where he could ask you something like that. You couldn’t blame him if he no longer wanted to continue your tutoring sessions.

Hell, if you were in his shoes and he were to lash out on you and say all these degrading things about you, you probably would have slapped him in the face. Why didn’t you wait a few seconds to actually think before you said all of those negative things to him? He may have acted as though nothing bothered him; you were sure he’s heard the crude names some people would call him and he had to hear at least one rumor that was spreading around your campus.

You couldn’t even count how many rumors you’ve heard about Mark on both of your hands. If only you were able to turn back time, you wouldn’t have confessed all that you did—even if you meant it in the moment. The look of fury on his face; yet the sorrow in his eyes made you feel like a monster. You ended up leaving the library not too long after he did, you couldn’t handle staying there knowing that you probably ruined the rest of his entire week.

Right as you made it to your apartment, Mark stayed on your mind for the rest of the night. The thought of him haunted you as if your conscience wanted you to be reminded of your chastising. You couldn’t find it in yourself to fall asleep; you began to toss and turn trying your best to do whatever it was to grow tired—but nothing.

All you could think about were ways to apologize. What could you say or do that would show him just how regretful you were and how you wished you could take back everything you said? You tried to tell yourself to get over it. For all you knew, he probably did.

Your opinion shouldn’t have mattered to him; he had to be over it or at least you were hoping he moved passed the entire situation. You weren’t surprised when he didn’t show up in the library at your normal meeting time the next day. He didn’t end up coming on Thursday either.

A huge part of you wanted to reach out to him; to text him or even call him, asking him if he wanted to end your sessions completely but you were too much of a coward. You also wanted to give him his space. It was still too early for you to try and apologize to him. He’d probably laugh in your face or worse, make a fool out of you in front of his friends. When Friday came around, you came to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to meet up with you for the rest of this week.

The fight was such a distraction; you couldn’t concentrate at all in any of your classes or at work. One of these days, you just had to suck it up and find him—confess your mistake even if he refused to listen. He needed to know that you were wholeheartedly rueful.

“Hey Mark, we ran out of vodka dude! Yugyeom said he’ll drive if you go in to the store.”

An exasperated sigh fell from his lips. In the beginning of the week and even when Mark was first planning this party a couple of weeks ago, he was extremely excited.

Jackson was his best friend; sure, he was close with every single member of their friend group, but he’s known Jackson the longest and they just had a closer bond than the others did. However, he wanted nothing more than to pass on the party planning and all the responsibilities that came with it to somebody else.

Your words—he didn’t understand why he was letting it bother him so much. If it were anyone else, he would have brushed their words off like nothing. He didn’t care what anyone had to think about him. Mark wasn’t stupid; he saw the way people would look at him in the hall. Girls would either gawk at him or glare at him.

Guys would either roll their eyes at him or want to talk with him. But for some reason, he found himself wanting to impress you. Little did you know, Mark has noticed you from the time you guys were in middle school. He thought you were cute and he inspired to be even half of the amazing student you were. Seeing as though he never cared too much about education the way he did with sports, he believed that you wouldn’t find him all that interesting nor was there anything the two of you had in common.

Since you both came from two different worlds—you never really interacted with each other in high school and when you moved on to college, your university was huge; there was no way the two of you would bump in to each other. However, when he saw you on the first day of class, Mark knew this was his chance to simply talk with you.

He had been well aware that you must have known all about him and he could only hope that you didn’t see him in a negative light. He didn’t know how to approach you and he’s energetic talked to a girl in any other way that flirtatiously. That’s why he pestered you so much; it was the only way he thought he could get your attention.

Hearing how you truly felt about him though really made his head spin. The way you treated him in class whenever he’d ask for a pencil or some paper—those encounters alone made it evident that you had ill feelings for him, but he didn’t think they were all that bad. After you practically sprinted away from the lecture hall after your professor, Mark felt as though he already knew your answer. You hated him; you had to.

There was no other explanation to the way you would look at him like he was the scum under your feet and between your toes. He wanted to prove you wrong; he wanted to change the way you saw him, what you thought about him. The older boy had a hard time processing the idea of worrying about how you saw him. He couldn’t give less of a shit if people didn’t like him or assumed that he was a womanizer who spent most of his college career drinking beers and smoking blunts.

However, hearing your venom filled words really stuck a nerve with him and for some reason, he wanted to do whatever he could in his power to change your outlook on him. Mark knew exactly why he was so bothered with the fact that you thought so negatively of him. He’s always believed that you were one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever laid his eyes on.

From the sixth grade all the way to junior year in high school; Mark admired you from afar. Sometimes, he’d debate on joining one of the clubs you were in just to be near you in the hopes of developing a friendship with you, but his friends would’ve had a field day.

If anyone were to see him in the library with a bunch of nerds for book club just to get your attention, he would never hear the end of it. He might have known that you didn’t necessarily care for him, but you did tell him you didn’t hate him.

Your confession the other day said otherwise; each and every single word that fell from your mouth was like a punch in the gut. In fact; Mark’s been in enough altercations to know that he was more hurt mentally by what you had to say than he ever was while having fists thrown at him. He wanted to be mad at you, but he just couldn’t.

Sure, the way you went about confessing what you thought about him was extremely rude, but most of what you said was true. He couldn’t blame you for thinking so brashly towards him, but he thought with the amount of effort he was putting in not only in to his studies, but in to your meet ups that you would see him as more than just a fuckboy.

You obviously had better things to do, but he was still so grateful that you agreed to tutoring him. With the way you would barely speak a word while you were together, Mark could tell that you weren’t all that fond of his presence, but he didn’t want to give up in trying to at least be someone you’d want to be friends with.

Anger couldn’t even describe half of what Mark was thinking once he left you there in the library. He was more disappointed in himself than he was in you, particularly because he made that reputation for himself. There were so many instances where he could have changed his playboy ways, but he never did and now he was paying for it.

This had to be his karma for all the times he broke the hearts of poor, innocent girls who developed feelings for him. The only girl he ever cared about and wanted to become closer with on a more personal level was the same girl who hated his entire existence.

“Hey man, is everything okay? You’ve been out of it the last two days. Did something happen?”

Mark shrugged indifferently; he trusted his younger friend with his entire life. Yugyeom was like a younger brother to him. Mark and his younger brother Joey never really got along. Hell, they hardly ever talked to each other unless their parents forced them to and it was because Mark was adamantly jealous of Joey’s drive and workmanship while Joey considered Mark to be a bum; he had no future at the rate he was going.

Since he was the oldest out of the seven of them, they were all like younger brothers to him but since Yugyeom was the youngest, Mark was the most protective over him. Yugyeom had to be the least air-headed and narcissistic. Although, he did enjoy the fact that girls would grovel at his feet and literally throw themselves at him, he didn’t lead any of them on the way his older friends did. He was also very polite to everyone he did encounter and he could never show any ounce of malice.

“It’s nothing—don’t worry about me, let’s just get this over with.”

It wasn’t unusual for their car rides to be filled with silence. Sometimes it was just nice to listen to the radio and not have to be bothered by unnecessary conversation. Talking wasn’t something Mark was a fan of and neither was Yugyeom; in fact, that was one of the reasons why he enjoyed driving around with the younger boy so much.

Nothing was expected out of Mark like it was if he were to go out with Jinyoung orBamBam. Thankfully, the grocery store was less than five minutes away from Jackson’s house and before he knew it, they were pulling up right in front of it.

“Hey Mark, do you think you could get me some condoms while you’re in there? I ran out yesterday.”

If it were anyone else, he would have told them to fuck off and to go in and get them themselves. But since it was Yugyeom and he could never say no to him, he just took his money without hesitation. He didn’t have a problem with having to buy condoms. It was better to be safe than to be sorry. Mark didn’t think it was wrong to want to be protected during sex.

Everyone had sex these days, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for a man his age to purchase condoms. He didn’t want to seem self indulged, but one look at Mark and you knew he got his dick sucked on a weekly basis. Since he was only buying a couple of things, mainly from the alcohol aisle, he didn’t waste time looking around for things he wouldn’t need.

The alcohol aisle was in the front of the store; he didn’t frequent this supermarket all that often but he’s been here enough times to know where most of his necessities were located. Right after picking up three different bottles of vodka, he briskly made his way over to the condoms; picking up the Trojan ecstasy that Yugyeom repeatedly told him to purchase and then he went on the search for a bottle opener.

He assumed it was somewhere near the alcohol, so he began to make his way back to the aisle—until he got a text from Yugyeom saying Jinyoung asked for some candles and a lighter. Those two items he had no idea where to find them, so he made his way over to an associate. If he wasn’t in a rush, he would’ve looked for the items himself—he hated having to talk to people if he didn’t have to. Mark was very good at finding whatever it was that he needed without assistance, but he didn’t want to waste any time.

The sooner they returned back to the party, the faster he could go back to his place. Once he saw someone stocking up canned foods in one of the aisles near the freezer, he approached her impatiently; not wanting to get a text from Yugyeom telling him to hurry up.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find candles—y/n?”

Mark didn’t think his mood could get any worse; he had every intention on getting drunk off his ass tonight but it wasn’t going to be until he returned back to his loft. If he were to drink at the party, he was 100% sure from past experiences that he would either end up having to help Jackson with the cleaning or he would be in bed with someone by the end of the night and he had no intentions on doing anything but going straight to sleep once it was all over—or until Jackson was drunk enough not to notice his disappearance.

Seeing you for the first time that night—and in a grocery store of all places brought him through so many different emotions. He didn’t think he was ready to face you just yet, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss you. Wait—what? There was no way he missed you—no. He couldn’t have.

You made him feel so pathetic—so miserable—so small and the two of you weren’t even friends. He knew deep in his gut that you despised him; you showed no interest in any attempt of his trying to get to know you. For the first time in his entire life, you made him feel insecure. Like—he wasn’t worthy of having you as a friend or even just as a tutor.

But you never left his mind once since that God awful day. At first, he believed it was because your words had such a huge effect on him. He believed every single thing you had to say. Most of it was true, sure—but the way you indirectly hinted towards him being a nobody if he kept his act up—that wrecked him.

Mark meant what he said when he admitted to working harder in school in order to impress you. He didn’t want you to think you were wasting your time tutoring him only for him to learn nothing and not get around to completing assignments. He wanted you to know that your sacrifice meant a lot to him and that he was planning on cleaning his act up so you wouldn’t regret your decision; even if you did get something out of it.

His chest soon grew heavy and he felt like his throat was swollen; as if no words would come out if he actually tried to speak. The night he went home, he contemplated ending the entire thing only because he assumed you no longer wanted anything to do with him and because he didn’t think he could face you. Not after everything that escalated. However, he knew that nobody would be able to help him with his work the way that you did. He wouldn’t be able to learn from anyone else anyway—but he stayed away for the last two days because he wanted to calm down.

There was no way in hell he could pretend nothing happened and he was afraid of saying something that he didn’t mean just to spite you. Mark wasn’t sure just how long he was going to go without meeting with you, but he wasn’t going to take too long or he was sure you would think he no longer needed the tutoring which was far from the truth.

Something about seeing you—not only for the first time after going two days without meeting up with you but at your workplace made his stomach sore. He didn’t know why it bothered him seeing you in your uniform; watching you stack cans up on the shelves. Something about it made him feel somewhat—sad.

Maybe it’s because he knows just how much of a hardworking student you were and an even more successful person in general and he would never had expected you to work somewhere so—well—lackluster and dull. People like you—headstrong and determined should be working as supervisors in prestigious companies or at least a receptionist at a hospital or something. Anything better than an old supermarket.

“Hi.”

“You—you work here?”

He scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment; not knowing how to act in front of you and he was fearful of saying something stupid.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He mentally slapped himself—what did it matter where you worked? It wasn’t any of his business. Your business was none of his to worry about just as much as his was none of your concern. But you deserved so much better—in more ways than one.

“What do you mean why? It’s a job? I need money?”

“Well I mean yeah—but you could do so much better than this shit show.”

You had to stifle back a laugh and seeing your eyes crinkle at his comment did wonders to his heart. This was the first time he’s ever seen your emotions; other than having a constant glare or frown on your face and he really enjoyed it. Happiness suited you. He liked seeing you smile and now, he grew to desire being the reason behind it.

“The pay is pretty good, and it’s only five minutes away from where I live so it’s convenient.”

“Oh—well, I mean when you put it that way—I just—I—never mind.”

The two of you averted your gazes to the ground; he couldn’t look at you because he was now worried that you caught on to the fact that he cared about you. At this point, Mark wasn’t concerned whether or not you knew that he wanted to protect you or that he was afraid for your safety. He’d just make up a lie about not having someone to tutor him if something bad were to happen to you if you happened to ask him why your job bothered him.

“What was it that you were looking for?”

“Ah—um, candles and a lighter. We got Jackson this big cake and he just let Jinyoung know that his parents don’t have any candles at their house—sorry—too much information.”

You shook your head in disagreement before leading him to the aisle in which he assumed he could find things for parties. He knew in that moment that you no longer were irritated with him; you could have just told him where the items were located but you actually brought him there. That had to be a good thing right?

“Here we go. There’s pocket ones and the longer one. We have matches if you don’t want to worry about it dying out. And the candles are right next to the paper plates.” He thanked you politely and began to make his way toward the candles. However, your soft voice calling out to him stopped Mark in his tracks.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I shouldn’t have said anything that I did. It’s not my place to make such stupid assumptions about you and I should’ve told you this sooner—“

“Hey, don’t worry about it okay? You weren’t wrong. Well, for the most part everything you mentioned was true. Sure, I could’ve gone without hearing all of that but it’s done. I’m over it. And if you’re okay with it, I’d still like to receive tutoring from you.” The look of surprise on your face tugged on his heartstrings; how could someone be so cute yet make him so hard? You were otherworldly.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I’m the one that fucked everything up. I should be on my knees, begging you for forgiveness—“

“If you want to make it up to me, you’ll be on your knees begging for something else—ow! Who knew you had such an arm on you y/n.” He playfully rubbed the part of his shoulder that you punched him at but it didn’t stop him from picking up on your now quiet demeanor.

“It seems as though you already have someone else who will do that for you, so—“

He looked down at the box of condoms and internally screamed. Fucking Kim Yugyeom—always asking for the wrong things at the wrong time. Although Mark knew exactly why he was frustrated being caught by you holding a box of condoms, you already presumed that he lived a very sexually active lifestyle. It was one thing to think that he was hooking up with more than half of the student body, but it was a completely other thing seeing proof for yourself.

“These? Oh, um. These actually aren’t for me. Yugyeom is waiting for me in the car and he asked me to buy him some—“

You gave him a small smile, one he wouldn’t even have noticed if he wasn’t heavily observing your facial reactions. He wanted nothing more than to know what you were thinking. If he was being honest with himself, you probably couldn’t give less of a shit if he was in fact buying them for his use.

What did it matter to you? The longer the two of you stood there in the awkward, the more he began to come up with excuses as to why he didn’t want you thinking he was going to hook up with someone tonight. Nobody knew this and if any of his friends were to find out—he was screwed.

Mark hasn’t slept with anyone since the two of you began your study sessions for reasons still unbeknownst to him but only then; looking at you and your big—doe like eyes, wanting to take you away from that wretched place you called your working environment, trying his best to hide the smile that was peering up at him just standing there in your presence, wanting to ditch the party in order to listen to you talk about the civil war and the different types of matter there was—it was in that moment that he finally accept his feelings for what they were.

He was falling in love with you.

Love.

The older boy has never experienced that emotion before. Ever. He’s never met anyone who made him crave attention, comfort, infatuation, friendship—love. Nobody made him feel the way you currently were. Nobody had ever taken up so much space in his mind and consumed his thoughts entirely the way you had in less than the four months he’s gotten to interact with you for.

You made him mad—furious even with the idea that you judged him without even getting to know him, the real him. Yet you also made him smile like an idiot at how much effort you’d put in to your lesson plans and how you would nonchalantly ask him if he ate or how school went.

No one, not even his friends would check up on how he was doing and for some reason, no matter how much you’d try to come off as though you thought nothing of him, Mark was sure there was some part of you that cared about him and that was enough to solidify what he harbored for you.

The feelings he developed for you back in middle and high school; they came back full force in less than a month and splashed on him like freezing cold water—searing through his skin and sending electricity through his bones. Obviously, it wasn’t something he was used to. Hell, it scared him; knowing he was falling for someone he didn’t know would reciprocate his same feelings—he’s never had to deal with that kind of uncertainty before.

“You don’t have to explain it to me Mark, we’re not friends. It’s none of my concern, remember?”

“No, but I want it to be. I want to be friends with you y/n. You know, you’re really smart, but you’re not that bright—“

“Do you want me to hit you again?”

Mark couldn’t help but let out another giggle. God, what were you doing to him? He’s never let anyone have so much control and power over him before and he was starting to really enjoy the effect you were having on him. He could only hope that one day, you would change your outlook on him completely. He was well aware that the possibility of you ever liking him back was slim, but it wasn’t impossible. “No, but like I said, I’d be honored if you allowed me to be

your friend.” You scrunched your face as though you were disgusted by his choice of words, but he knew you were just messing around with him.

“You sound so proper putting it like that. But sure, that sounds like a good idea. We have three more months to work together, so I guess it would be best for us not to desire ripping the other’s head off.”

“I never wanted to rip your head off. I actually think your head is pretty great—oh, um, hold on for just a second.”

The vibrating in his pocket brought him straight back to reality. He would continue talking to you for hours if he had the choice, but Yugyeom was probably wondering what could be taking Mark so long.

“I couldn’t find the candles and the lighter—the party isn’t going to end this early dumb ass would you wait—what? Fine, I’ll be right out.” He released a frustrated sigh before giving you a grim look.

“I better get going. What um—what time are you done? I don’t want you to go home too late, it’s dangerous out there. I could come back and pick you up—“

“It’s fine Mark. I’m done in half an hour and I drove here, but thank you for the offer. Yeah, me too. I’m sure my manager is wondering why I have yet to go to the stockroom. We still have a lot of shipment from earlier. Enjoy the party—oh, and by the way, I need you to know that you’re a remarkable person Mark. I know you’re trying your best and I’m sorry I didn’t praise you earlier on your growth, but I’m really proud of you. Have a nice evening.”

Mark was sure that if he were to look in a mirror, his cheeks would be red—they sure felt like it. You made him feel like a school boy, blushing from being around his crush. He was now happier than he’s ever been in a really long time and it was just by your compliment alone. He couldn’t wait to see how your friendship was going to develop; he couldn’t wait to be able to be more free around you and not have to worry about you getting mad at his flirty little remarks. Once he finished paying and returned back to the car, he wasted no time punching Yugyeom in the shoulder.

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?”

“Next time, buy your own shit. People gave me weird looks for buying your fucking rubbers for you.” The younger boy rolled his eyes as he began to drive away.

“Who gives a shit what people think? I’m a twenty-two year old man in college, it’s only natural for me to have sex right now. And hey, at least I’m being safe right?”

Mark scoffed. Out of their entire group of friends, Mark and Yugyeom were the ones who had the most action; or at least that’s what he thought from what they would always tell each other. Youngjae and BamBam weren’t as needy for intercourse and Jinyoung had been booking up with the same girl for the last two months—but Mark was the only one who knew that. Safe was the last thing Yugyeom could ever be; honestly, Mark wouldn’t have been surprised if he were to find out that Yugyeom had a baby somewhere out there but it wasn’t his place to say anything.

“There’s more behind your anger than what you’re putting out there—so spill.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You buy condoms once a week, don’t give me that shit. You saw someone there that you knew didn’t you?”

Mark didn’t know what to say. Sure, he trusted that Yugyeom wouldn’t judge him if he were to find out that he had a crush on you—well, more than just a little crush but no one needed to know exactly how he felt about you. But Yugyeom was as much a guy as he was Mark’s friend. He would mess around with him and probably wouldn’t understand the older boy’s feelings.

“Just somebody from my English class. She works there and I had to ask her for assistance with the candles—“

“Wait, are you talking about y/n?” The older boy looked at him in disbelief? How did he know who Mark was talking about without even having him say your name? How did he know who you were?

“You know y/n?”

“Yeah, she’s in my religion class. She’s the only person I know who works at that dump. She’s also the only hot one there too. I’ve been trying to indirectly ask her out for weeks but she doesn’t get the hint—“

“Or she doesn’t like you like that.”

Yugyeom let out a snicker and turned to Mark as he pulled up to a red light. “We all know any girl would get weak at the knees just being able to talk to me. She’s just playing hard to get, that’s all. But since you said that, I can’t help but wonder—you like her don’t you? Wait, is y/n the reason why you’ve been such a grumpy old man lately?”

Normally Yugyeom wasn’t one to get involved in Mark’s private life; none of them would stick their noses in places where they shouldn’t be. But then again, Yugyeom was always kind of nosy and he had a tendency to constantly pry at his older friends if there was information that he wanted to know. It only took them five minutes to get to the store, why did it seem like it was taking them forever to get back to Jackson’s place?

“No. I barely know her—“

“Eyyyyy, Mark, I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid. If you didn’t like her, you wouldn’t care that she saw you getting these. You don’t have to lie to me. I don’t blame you, she’s pretty much a complete package. Beauty, body, brains—I bet she’s great at giving head as she is using it. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything—but what about we make this interesting.”

Mark could feel his blood boil hearing Yugyeom say those things about you. It wasn’t as if he didn’t describe other girls the way Yugyeom was with you, but he hated hearing anyone talk dirty about you or degrade you like the way Yugyeom just did. He knew the younger boy was just messing around with him, but he was afraid that things were going to take a turn for the worst if Yugyeom were to continue.

“What are you referring to Yugyeom?” The younger boy raised his brow before biting the inside of his cheek.

“I bet you—“

“Fuck that, no bets. I’m not doing that shit, especially not one involving y/n—“

“Come on man, don’t be such a pussy. It’ll be fun. What? Scared you won’t be able to do it?”

No. I’m scared it’s going to ruin everything between y/n and I if things go to shit in the end.

“No. Of course not you dick. I’m the king of bets. You know that. Fine, whatever. Lay it on me asshole.”

Yugyeom found his previous parking spot and waited until he turned the car off before he faced Mark and began to think about his next move. Damnit, why did he agree so easily? He should have tried harder in rejecting his friend’s suggestion. Bets were never good. Especially involving girls.

They had these stupid bets all the time and from experience, Mark had a feeling what Yugyeom was going to have him do had to deal with sex. Mark didn’t even think about you and him in that way—well, of course he did. There were few occasions where you’d talk back to him and he wanted to see what else your mouth could do—but sex was the last thing he wanted to do with you.

As of right now, he wanted to be close to you. He wanted to learn each and every little thing about you. He wanted to make you laugh, he wanted to hold you, to kiss you and to be the reason why you woke up happy every single morning. He wanted to flaunt you off to the entire school and to take you home to meet his family. He wanted to be yours. But people like Mark and people like you would never work together—even if that’s all he really wanted, life was never that easy and by the sly look on Yugyeom’s face, he had a feeling that the bet was going to be difficult.

“You have one month to bring y/n to one of these parties and she has to kiss you in front of all of us. You can’t kiss her and you can’t ask her to kiss you—she has to do it on her own.”

Mark scoffed, that was going to be a piece of cake—but wait, this was you he was talking about. It took him three months to even get you to talk to him, there was no way you were going to kiss him willingly and at a party of theirs. Yugyeom probably knew it wasn’t going to work and that’s why he proposed that idea.

“What if I win?”

“You get a hot chick wrapped around your finger. What more could you want?”

“Dude I’m going to call this bet off before it even starts—“

“Fine, I’ll give you $100.”

“Okay, and if I lose?”

“Then I’ll fuck her myself and send you the video.” His jaw clenched and he could feel himself ready to leap over the console in order to slap Yugyeom’s cocky smile off his face. The thought of anyone, let alone one of his closest friends fooling around with you sent a bad feeling to his chest and he was going to do whatever he could to make sure that never happened.

“Dude, she’s not going to sleep with you, find something else.”

“Woah, someone’s confident that he knows all about our pretty little grocery clerk—fine. If I win, I get to borrow your motorcycle for a week.”

There were so many red flags going off in his head—this wasn’t going to turn out very well. But it wasn’t all that bad of a bet and unfortunately, Mark’s ego was the size of California. If he were to say no, he’d look like such a punk and he knew Yugyeom would tell their friends—so it didn’t come as a shock when he found himself shaking Yugyeom’s hand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #got7 #mark tuan imagines #got7 mark

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mlqcanonymous · 4 years

Text

MLQC Almost Domestic Bliss — Lucien Edition

Ah, finally. The long awaited finale. Well, not really. Anyway, enjoy and have fun!

Lucien

Wakes you up with the smell of coffee/tea/hot chocolate and a sweet kiss to your lips

If you don’t wake up, he’d definitely tease you with featherlight touches of his lips on your naked back while trailing a long forefinger down your arm

That’s why you pretend to sleep often and he lets you pretend :>

Never fails to deliver flowers to your office with cute little notes reminding you to take care of yourself

You telling off girls who flirt with your husband because he’s too damn oblivious by their flirtation and advances (not really. He just enjoys making you feel jealous lol)

Frequent visits to the orphanage to play with the kids every weekend

Expect to wake up in the middle of the night to find him still working three different projects at the same time

Reading you poetry with a low, hushed voice to make you fall asleep

This man has a motherfreaking dirty mouth (don’t fight me on this one) and he loves dirty talking and teasing you during sex

Anything and everything can be turned into a sexual innuendo.

He likes watching you strut around your home in nothing but his white laboratory coat

Offers to wash your back when you’re taking a bath with an innocent smile on his face — and then things turn not-so innocent after

Tending the flower garden — mostly gardenias — every Saturday afternoon

Conversations about literature, poetry, and philosophical shits in any order

Lucien will definitely probably be the one who acts the ‘wife’ between the two of you. He’s the one who does the laundry, washes the dishes, cooks breakfast and dinner, sweeps the floors, and does every household chores imaginable with an apron tied around his waist (so freakin’ adorable)

But you’re the one who prepares his lunch for him.

He‘s the one preparing a bath for you whenever you come home stressed from work complete with scented candles, soft piano music in the background and petals of roses.

Going to undisclosed and very beautiful places throughout the city, sometimes late at night and then you have sex in those places just because

Goes to different kinds of amusement parks, then to an aquarium and planetarium in Saturday dates

Foot massages from Lucien at least once a week. Enjoy.

Will call you endearingly and sickeningly cute nicknames in public, no matter how humiliating it is

Laboratory sex. Even if it’s a hazard, you two can’t help yourselves.

Not a dog or a cat, but you’ll definitely be adopting a parrot or some other bird.

Sundays are spent watching movies from 6 PM-5 AM with you falling asleep halfway through in the couch while Lucien just sits there with a bowl of popcorn in his lap

Lucien doesn’t care for your physical space but not overly PDA either. But it’s all in the little things like hands brushing against each other while walking, or pushing your hair back behind your ear, or caressing your nape, or just staring at you when he thinks no one’s watching but knowing you’re aware of him

Lucien can withstand separation in a public crowd BUT can’t withstand someone flirting or making a move on you. He’ll go apeshit— with a smile on his face.

Either you’re adopting a kid after three years or so or get pregnant in a year or two. Whichever comes first.

Lucien recording your moments together with a video camera. Most videos are of you though and he claims that they’re “scientific purposes” when you ask about them.

When he’s working overtime, he plays those videos as background noise just because he misses you :’>

And he might or might not have a compilation of your laugh, snorts, and voicemails in his phone. Just sayin’.

There, I’ve done it! I apologize it’s so short compared to the others but thank you for reading it!

#love and producer #mlqc #mr love: dream date #mr love: queen’s choice #mlqc lucien #mlqc headcanon #mlqc xu mo #mlqc imagines #mlqc imagines and headcanon #mlqc lucien x mc #mlqc lucien/mc #mlqc lucienmc #mlqc xu mo x mc

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firstofficerwiggles · 4 years

Text

Dress Code, Part 3

Link to Part 1 and Part 2

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Rating: T (M rated here if you want the smutty version)

Warnings: kissing, touching, mentions of sexual arousal, innuendo, no actual sex

Summary: You and Din are back on the Razor Crest after the party and things get romantic. Confessions of feelings and lots of fluff.

Word Count: ~2800

Author’s Note: This was heavily inspired by Perfect by Ed Sheeran and that’s the song they are dancing to. If you’re familiar with the lyrics, you’ll note that Din uses one of the lines from the song. Also, I don’t really know how the holopads are supposed to work, so I’m treating it like a space iPad that can play music. Again, shamelessly stolen planet names from Star Trek. Also here’s the necklace from the story, in case you were wondering what it looked like.

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You whisk your cloak off of you again, headless of the cold, wanting Din to see you in the dress again.

“I’ll make you a new deal,” he says, his helmet moving up and down as if he is looking you over. “I’ll take you to some warmer planets and I won’t complain about your clothing, but only if you promise to never wear that dress in public again.”

The dress has served its purpose, better than you could have anticipated. “Alright, it’s a deal,” you tell him with a smile.

“Although,” Din drawls out, “if you want to wear it again when we’re alone together, I’d like that.”

“Wait, so you do like this dress?” You ask the Mandalorian surprise coloring your voice. “It’s just earlier, you seemed so angry about it,” you figured it was too much for him, too risqué for him to really like it.

“Sweetheart, when I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful,” Din sighs, “all I could think was that I didn’t deserve to see you looking so perfect.”

“Oh Mando, that’s… thank you… that’s the most romantic thing any man has ever said to me.” You feel stunned by his words. You’ve been dreaming of hearing him say something like this to you, but the reality is so much better than anything you could imagine.

His voice gets a little sterner when he says, “But I wasn’t crazy about all those other men seeing you like that too.” Then, more gruffly, he tells you “I am sorry though if I acted like a jealous idiot,” he tips his helmet down a bit, slightly ashamed at his rudeness this evening.

“Mando, you don’t have to be jealous,” you tell him, “I’m not interested in other men. I was thinking about you when I chose this dress.”

“Is that true?” he asks. Din really wants to believe you, but he’s still not sure how a woman like you could ever be with him.

“Yes, it is. I only cared about you seeing me in it.”

“What about Guy?” Din says his name like it’s a curse, “You seemed to like his attention too.” His voice has a teasing tone to it, but you can hear the undercurrent of a need for reassurance in his statement too.

“Who?” you say innocently, “You’re the only man I remember from tonight, Mando.” And you give him the most flirtatious look you have trying to show him that he’s the only one for you.

“Well, good.” His visor seems to stare at you for a beat before he looks you over again and notes the small goosebumps that have arisen on your arms, “Let’s go up to the cockpit, it’s warmer up there.”

You follow him up the ladder to the cockpit, where it is noticeably warmer, but honestly, you’re so overwhelmed with everything, with him, you had forgotten about the cold. In fact when you look over to your armor-clad bounty hunter and remember how you danced together, you feel heat spreading through your whole body.

Din doesn’t notice the cold either, how could he with the way you are looking at him, eyes full of desire? He had to bring you up here just to stop from dragging you straight to his bunk. When you said you only thought of him when you bought the dress, he felt a primal urge to claim you right then, but he wants to show you how much you mean to him first. He needs you to understand how deeply he cares for you.

You watch as Din goes over to the console where he has a holopad and he switches on some music. Different from the fast-paced dance music of the party, this music is soft and slow. Before he turns back to you, you watch with wide eyes as he takes off his pauldrons, followed by his chest plate, and so on until his helmet is the only beskar remaining. He looks more relaxed now in just his shirt and pants and you feel like you are getting a glimpse of the man underneath the warrior’s armor.

“Will you dance with me again?” Din asks, holding out his now gloveless hand to you. You feel a jolt of energy when your fingers touch his warm skin for the first time as you take his hand. He pulls you in to him holding your right hand up to his chest and then placing his other hand in the small of your back in a more old-fashioned dancing style. You let your left arm wrap up around his shoulder, amazed at being able to feel more of his body without the hard metal in the way. Your body sways with his to the music, dancing under the light of thousands of stars in the sky, and it’s perfect. You listen to the lyrics of the song as the singer croons,

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favourite song When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

“Mando, I love this song, but I thought you hated it?” you ask astonished, “You always huff when I put it on.”

“I don’t hate it,” he says, “but it makes me frustrated, or it did, because,” he swallows, “well, because it’s- it’s everything I want to say to you, but I don’t know how. And I don’t know how I could ever deserve to be with someone like you.”

“You’re doing a pretty great job of showing me how you feel now,” you reply your eyes shining at him. Yet one thing bothers you about what he said, “But why don’t you think you deserve it?”

“I uh,” he seems a bit awkward and he turns his visor away from your gaze for a moment, “I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve done in the past. I know I’ve made bad decisions; there are choices that I regret.” He turns back to you, giving your hand a squeeze “And you are such a good person, the way you care for the child, and for me, it’s so kind and sweet, I don’t know if I’m worthy of it.”

His words are breaking your heart, how can he not see what a wonderful man he is? “You are perfect to me,” you tell him honestly. “I’ve never known a better man. You show me every day how important the child and I are to you. I don’t know any other man who could protect us so fiercely but then also take the time for stories and blanket forts. Even when you’re annoying me by arguing about my clothes, I know you’re only doing it out of a desire to keep me safe. We’ve all made mistakes in our past, but I see who you are now, who you want to be, and I like that man, I like him very much.”

Din lets out a contented sigh and brings his helmet down to touch your forehead. He hugs you tight against him as he whispers, “Do you really, sweetheart?”

“Yes, I do,” you reassure him softly as you tip your head up and place a kiss on his helmet right where you think his mouth would be.

“I would like to really kiss you,” Din tells you, “but I don’t know how,” he admits shyly.

“It’s alright,” you say, “I understand you can’t remove your helmet.”

“No, I mean, I- I’ve never, um, never kissed anyone… before.” He stammers out. “If you can’t see me, if you kept your eyes closed, I could take off my helmet.” You smile at the hopefulness in his voice.

“You would trust me to do that? Not to peek?” A wave of affection sweeps over you at his willingness to remove his helmet so that you can be his first kiss.

“Yes,” Din replies, “you’re the only one I trust to do this.”

“I promise I won’t open my eyes until you tell me that I can.” You squeeze your eyes shut and wait with anticipation, your heart beating so loudly you are sure he can hear it. He steps away from you for a moment and you hear a soft shuffle followed by a dull thunk. Then you feel him come back towards you as he grasps your hand and brings it up to touch his cheek for the first time. You let your palm graze over the stubble there, marveling at the feeling of finally touching him like this. You gently run your hand across his jaw and into the hair at the nape of his neck, bringing his face closer to your own until you can feel his breath across your lips. Even though you can’t see him, you can feel his nervousness, and so you whisper, “It’s ok, you can kiss me.”

The feeling of your hand on his neck and the sweet pressure of your body against his is almost overwhelming for Din. He looks at your lips, so tantalizing and so exactly what he has been dreaming about for months now, yet he hesitates unsure of himself. But when you whisper those words of encouragement to him, it’s all he needs. He softly touches his lips to yours, trying to move them the way he’s seen in the romantic holoprograms he watched in an attempt to learn how to kiss. It’s a little bit clumsy at first, but you don’t care at all. You tip your head to the side and slowly guide him with your own lips, showing him what you like and parting your lips a little as you do. He follows your movements and when he parts his lips too, you gently slide your tongue inside his mouth and deepen the kiss. He makes the most adorable sound of surprise as your tongue touches his and then he kisses you back enthusiastically. When you finally break apart, you are both breathless.

“I had no idea kissing you would be this wonderful,” Din tells you between breaths, “If I did, I would have taken the helmet off months ago.” You smile, but before you can reply he pulls you back into another passionate kiss. He is a fast learner and his kisses are making you weak in the knees. As Din starts to feel more certain of himself, he lets his hands explore your body. His fingertips graze over your nearly naked back causing a delightful shiver to run down your spine. When his large hands reach your waist, he grips you tighter and brings your hips to grind into his, the sensation making you moan with pleasure. Your own hands entwine into his soft hair, letting his curls swirl around your fingers, and as he kisses you more intensely, you tug lightly on his hair eliciting a groan from him. His lips leave yours but only so he can place hot kisses along your jaw and then down your neck. He reaches a particularly sensitive spot causing you to whimper and he gets bolder still, nipping you and then sucking there to create his first love bite.

“Mando!” you cry out surprised, although secretly you have to admit that you love the idea of him marking you as his.

“Din” he tells you before soothing the bite with a soft kiss.

“What?” you ask confused, it’s hard to think when he’s touching and kissing you like this.

“My name is Din,” he clarifies, “I’d like you to call me by my real name.”

“Din” you repeat almost reverently, honored that he trusts you enough to share his name with you. “I like it, it suits you, Din.”

“I like the way you say it,” he replies warmly and then returns to your lips with another searing kiss. He feels like he could kiss you forever if you would let him. Although you are the first woman he’s ever kissed, he’s had plenty of other sexual encounters in the past, but nothing has ever felt as intimate as this and he’s never felt so connected to another person before.

You feel wonderful in his arms, kissing him just like in your many daydreams. Yet, the reality of keeping your eyes closed this whole time is starting to get harder and it makes you nervous that you might slip up. You pull back from him so that you can ask, “Is there anything I can use to cover my eyes? It’s getting harder to keep them closed and I don’t want to ruin this.”

“You want a blindfold?” Din asks both touched and aroused at the idea. “You trust me enough to do that?”

“Din, you’ve trusted me to keep my eyes shut this whole time,” you point out, “I think the blindfold would just make it easier for me. But, yes, I trust you.”

“Give me a moment,” Din steps away from you and you hear fabric ripping as he tears part of his cape to make the covering. He returns to you and places the fabric around your eyes and head, quickly securing it at the back. Although you keep your eyelids closed beneath the blindfold, you feel a sense of relief with the extra layer protecting his creed. Din hears you let out a small sigh and relax a bit and it makes him smile at the level of confidence you have in him. He takes your hand and begins leading you over towards his pilot’s chair, “let’s get a little more comfortable.”

You hear a slight shuffling and then feel Din pull you into his lap. As you settle against him, your arm brushes his warm chest and you gasp as you realize he has removed his shirt. You turn in his lap so you can face him and bring your hands up to caress and explore his body. As your fingers discover every dip and curve of his muscular frame, your lips follow with soft kisses that make Din shiver and groan. You work your way back up to his neck and then decide that turnabout is fair play giving him your own love mark and causing him to moan out your name.

You pull back slightly, letting both of you catch your breath for a moment. Din’s hand comes up to play with your necklace, tracing the shape of it on your chest. “I love seeing this on you,” he says, “like you are wearing a little piece of me all the time.”

“That’s how I feel too,” you tell him, bringing your hand up to his “I can feel you with me wherever I go.”

Din kisses you again, softly this time, before telling you, “Wherever you go, I will be with you, if you want me to be.”

“I’ll always want that, Din.”

He brings his arms around you and you cuddle into his chest, feeling more happy and content than you ever have before. You feel him place a kiss at the top of your head and then he asks, “Where do you want me to take you next?”

“How about a planet with a warm sunny beach for once?” you grin up at him with a sassy smile.

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The rest of your visit on Alastria passes pleasantly with the child, Davi, and Isa. You introduce the child to sledding and you all have an epic snowball fight for the ages. Isa and you also manage to have a second shopping trip, where you are sure to pick up something special. Although you are sad to leave your new friends, the promise of a warmer climate has you eager for your next adventure.

About a week later, you are landing on the planet Velara near a beautiful coastline with a wide sandy beach. Fortunately it’s very secluded and private with no other people in sight, so it will be perfect for your plans. You ready yourself and the child for your day in the sun, both dressed in new swimsuits all ready for the sand and surf. As Din comes down the ladder from the cockpit, he gets an eyeful of your very sexy beach look for the first time, and although you know he likes it, he lets out a groan and says, “You’re determined to drive me crazy, woman.”

“Yes, but you love it,” you tell him saucily. “Oh, and by the way, I bought you a swimsuit too.” You toss him his own pair of sexy trunks like you’ve thrown down a gauntlet, “You do want to make sure you’re properly dressed, that is, if you’re up for it.”

Din tilts his helmet at you and could swear he’s smirking as he says, “Oh, I’m definitely up for it.”

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The End! Thank you for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it.

@sleepwithacommunist @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @rueblogsthings @mackycat11 @tv-zepeda @remmyswritings @dee-rosemary @boomtownboy @mandosboobiez @hoodjarin @haley7242 @mudhornchronicles

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