#and movement so my point still stands. sorry for leaning so heavily on the music aspect my b

[anthonycrowley]

‘well punk is rooted in socialist beliefsssssss’ okay cool. call yourself a socialist and get out of my music subgenre

[sukirichi]

— hands to myself (nanami kento x reader)

pov: you miss nanami too much that you can’t keep your hands to yourself

content/warnings: nsfw, voyeurism, masturbation, spanking, multiple orgasms, daddy kink, sugar daddy nanami, unedited fic

inspo: hands to myself by selena gomez

note: i can’t get sugar daddy nanami out of my head my brain goes brr brr PLEASE SEND ME THIRSTY ASKS ABOUT NANAMI 

@unabashednightmarepizza​ and @noritoshiikamo​ asdgjkl here we goooo i guess 

masterlist !

the penthouse felt so lonely without nanami.

he’s been working so hard, staying overtime and coming home just as you’re already buried in the sheets. nanami would slither in as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb the peaceful slumber of his baby girl, but what he doesn’t know is that you don’t mind waking up, just to see and feel him before he leaves for work again the next morning.

right before the sun rises, nanami’s already left. in your dazed state, you’re sure you felt him kissing your forehead before the doors close with a soft click, leaving you alone all over again.

you know he doesn’t mean it, you know he doesn’t want to leave you – but nanami is a hero and he has a duty to the people of this world to exorcise curses to bring a safer environment for everyone. truly, you admire him for this, sometimes a little too much that you might even fall in love with the rigid and stoic man who doesn’t smile.

still, you can’t help but to miss him.

ever since you became his baby girl, life has been easy. even though nanami wasn’t around all the time, he made it up by leaving his credit card to you, assuring you that you were free to get what you wanted. out of boredom, you’d go to the upstate and use his car to drive around the hills, arms heavy with shopping bags.

you’re not selfish, of course, you always make sure to bring him a little gift too. whether it came in the form of buying a new necktie for him – which he always wore to work proudly – or donning your body in lacy, white lingerie that has nanami losing control and worshipping your body until you’re screaming his name with a dried throat, you never forget to leave a little something for him.

sometimes you wish you could tell him you don’t really want the money. you’re thankful he’s more than generous to help you pay for college fees in return of you being his sweet baby girl, but you don’t need the Gucci or prada if he’s not going to be around.

you wanted nanami more than anything else, missed him more than anyone else.

your room feels so empty without him. his scent still lingers in your sheets because he’d rather sleep with you than stay in his own room, only using said room for showering and getting ready for work.

a lightbulb shines above your head. throwing your iphone to the side, you run to his room and open the cabinets one by one. nanami was as organized with his surroundings as he was with himself. his closet is an impressive collection of dark blue button-ups, nude slacks, and his iconic nude suit jacket. they’re all of the same brand and size, and you laugh because only nanami would buy the same thing over and over again.

at the end though, your gaze lands on a rare collection of white button ups, neckties neatly rolled and tucked at the glossy marbled drawers in front of the closet. already, you feel your heartbeat picking up as your hands touched the soft cotton material, nose slowly rubbing and burying into his shirt.

it even smells like him.

your movements are swift. previous shirt discarded on the floor, your arms loop inside the sleeves, tying up just until the undersides of your breasts before you pick out your favourite tie for him, a satin black one that always made him look delectable for dinner parties.

nanami rarely wore those, but when he did, he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands to yourself. the last time he brought you with him for a birthday ball of his friend, nanami wore this exact black tie paired with the traditional fitted, three piece suit. you remember how needy you were for him that night, little fists clenched at his dress shirt and nanami lowly scolding you to behave.

but you were so desperate to touch him – how could you not when he was so damn irresistible – that he felt bad for his baby girl. long story short, you and nanami left early for the party, with your pussy bouncing up and down his thick pole while nanami glared at the limousine driver to keep his eyes on the road, large, calloused hands possessively gripping the flesh of your ass.

you missed him so much you might go crazy.

grabbing the nearest bottle of his perfume, you spritz it into the air, leaning forwards so that you’d get his scent all over you. it somehow felt as if you were coating yourself in his name, claiming and branding yourself as his even without him in the vicinity.

that’s how much you wanted him, and you don’t stop rubbing his perfume along the pads of your wrist until you can’t smell yourself anymore. your legs are accentuated by the black suede pumps you strutted around the penthouse with, lips tainted red from the wine he kept in his precious little cellar – which was also a spot in the house you both fucked at during that time nanami wanted to taste you on his lips.

he pushed you next to the glass borders then, spreading your legs open until you’re absolutely bare of him. the memory of nanami burying his warm tongue in you has you rubbing your thighs together, your black lace panties already damp with arousal.

you won’t touch yourself, though. that’s one of the rules nanami placed the moment he agreed to be your sugar daddy: you couldn’t, under any circumstance, touch yourself without his permission.

sighing, you trudged back to his bedroom again and sat your ass on his silver desk, legs swinging below you as you stared out into the night city.

nanami likes his room dark, that even though he’s got a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, he almost never opens it. only the bright light from the opened closet is what illuminates your silhouette as you watch the skyscrapers twinkle from afar, the people bustling on the streets looking like ants from this height. it was perfect – the night looked so beautiful and the ambience so romantic with soft, classical music playing from the AI speakers – but nanami isn’t here.

he wouldn’t come home early either. you could already tell how stressed he’d be because gojo satoru always makes him work overtime.

for now, you just had to enjoy your own presence, replacing nanami’s heat and love with his perfume and clothes. his shirt is absolutely baggy on you, the ends of it falling on top of your thighs. your breasts nearly swells out from the tight cups of your bra and the fat of your thighs clumped underneath the straps of your stockings.

you’ve sighed for what seems like the hundredth time that day. it sounds selfish, but you wished that nanami would come home early and pay attention to you. surely, gojo satoru would be more than fine handling the curses himself for just today.

unable to help it, your head fell back on the transparent glass windows of his room, fingers snaking under his shirt. instinctively, your legs opened, a breathy sigh falling from your glossy red lips as you slipped a finger in. it’s not as big or as thick as nanami’s, and your hands are way too soft compared to the scraping sensation his calloused fingers gave whenever he fingered your pretty little pussy.

it’s nothing compared to what nanami can make you feel, but it should be enough, for now.

your head falls back as your heel lands on his desk, nearly grazing the precious smooth top of his table. you have a feeling nanami is going to punish you once he sees the slight scrapes of your stiletto against it, but who cares? at this point, you’re willing to pull off the stupidest things just to get his attention, just to get him to fuck you.

“nanami,” you moan around the second finger, your other hand spreading your legs open. you’re so horny that you don’t bother taking your panties off anymore, the material flushed with the slick of your own arousal that it’s heavily damp. “daddy, i miss you,” eyes shut tight, you fondle with the sensitive nub of your clit, pumping yourself slowly as you imagine that it’s nanami making you feel good this time.

you know you’re being a bad girl, that you’re being an absolute brat. not only did you break the rule that you’re not allowed to touch yourself exactly after you convinced yourself you wouldn’t, but you’re leaking right at his desk, heels grazing into the smooth material.

if nanami were to see, he wouldn’t forgive you.

he would break you.

if it was a punishment, then why do you enjoy the idea of it? why are you so enticed, so excited, so eager to have your daddy use you like a fucktoy? your lashes flutter against your cheeks, hips bucking into your cupped palm as your belly begins to tighten. “b-break me, daddy, please, nanami-”

“what do you think you’re doing?”

you freeze.

tentatively, you crack an eye open, swallowing audibly when nanami stands at the edge of his door, his glasses already removed. now that his beautiful blue eyes aren’t obscured by anything, you’re met with the intense heat of his gaze, nearly burning like wild fire. you glance down at your fingers buried in your pussy and gulp, pulling them out with a loud shlick. you were so wet at just the thought of him, so stupid to even want to be punished, but now your spine freezes when nanami struts to your way.

his hand tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “i asked you a question,” his low, baritone voice has you clenching around nothing, throat tight out of nervousness. “i said, what do you think you’re doing?”

“i-i’m sorry, daddy,” you duck your head down, lips red and trembling. “i just missed you so much and i got so horny-”

“so you thought it was okay to touch yourself? even after i’ve made it clear i don’t want you doing that?”

“i’m so sorry-”

nanami doesn’t give you a chance to speak before his lips crash into yours, his tongue effortlessly slipping inside to swipe over your teeth. you gasp in his mouth when his large hands cup your ass and haul your weight off the desk, legs wrapped around his waist. nanami slaps it, making the flesh bounce and gripping it tightly with a firm squeeze. you’re pretty sure you’d turn completely red and marked by the end of this, but you don’t care, fuck, you don’t fucking care – nanami’s here and that’s all you care about.

you kiss him back just as eagerly, arms around his neck as he carries you like you weigh nothing. nanami groans when your teeth nibble on his lips, eager and needy hands unbuttoning his shirt. his hard pecs and abs greet you like a present you couldn’t wait to unwrap, and you’re both breathing hard by the time you pull away.

“are those my clothes?” he snaps the strap of your bra under his shirt, eyes narrowed over the way you look terrifyingly small in his shirt. you nod, breasts rising up and down, tempting him to reach over and squeeze it. your back arches at his touch, his ministrations missed and needed. no, you craved it. he’s been gone too long you’re not sure you could take it anymore, and you hiss when nanami buries his sharp nose in the juncture of your neck, the front of his pants damp and coated with your exposed wet cunt. “and you’re wearing my perfume too.”

“y-yes.”

“tell me, baby,” nanami sets you down on your feet. your legs are a little wobbly from the heels and with desire burning in your stomach. he steadies you by placing a hand under your armpit, and you lean forward to kiss him one more time. nanami tsks and shoves you backwards, cheek sliding across the glass. “why did you go to my room without my permission? why did you touch yourself when i told you not to? do you want to be punished?”

your cheek stings from the impact of your skin hitting the glass, but your mind is too clouded with lust you can’t really focus on his words. wiggling your ass to press against his erection, you beg for him, hands looking for the comfort of his skin.

nanami slaps your ass and hand away to shut you up, and you fall forwards with a muffled cry. “answer me when i ask you a question, baby girl. i’m not always going to be this nice.”

“daddy, i-i just missed you so much, i couldn’t help it.”

“you missed me?” you hear his belt unbuckling behind you, your ass perking up in excitement. fuck, you just wanted him to pound into you already. but nanami’s always too patient, always controlled in everything he does, that you’re laying there shaking with your pussy dripping for him. finally, fucking finally, you feel his cock enter you inch by delicious inch, and you moan at the same time nanami groans at burying himself deep within you. “my stupid silly baby can never keep her hands to herself, huh?”

“no, daddy, i want you too much, i just miss you so bad.”

“you do?” he teases, rolling his hips languidly. his pace is so slow and teasing that you’re whining for him to go faster, but nanami only shakes his head. before you could fathom the way nanami’s eyes darken, he leans forward, hitting deeper than he did before. your moans are so breathy that you start fogging up the glass, and nanami rubs your swollen clit before using his hands to squish your cheeks. he forces you to follow his gaze, voice low and almost growling. “if you miss daddy so much, then show it to them. show them how good i’m making you feel. come on, baby girl, i know you can do it. you’ll do it for me won’t you?”

realization dawns you the moment nanami pushes your body further in the glass, your breasts squished and flattened against the cool surface. “d-daddy,” you gasp, tightening around him once you see that the overtime workers from the office parallel to his penthouse are now witnessing the way nanami rams his cock into you like a wild animal. “they’re, ah, watching.”

“i know, baby, i know,” nanami loosens his necktie around your neck, snatching it and tying it around your wrists instead. “let these people know you’re mine – that you’re my baby girl and no one else’s okay?”

hands bound behind your back and nanami’s thick cock thrusting roughly into you, you’re unable to move or even think straight. you just nod mindlessly as nanami keeps fucking into you, hands gently pressing down your throat. his dick keeps rubbing against your most sensitive spots and you’re shaking underneath him, your arousal heightened when you saw several of the office workers have already pulled out their cocks and stroked it at the sight of you dripping onto nanami’s black marble floors.

nanami doesn’t stop praising on how much you’re a good girl for him. now that his cock is buried within you, he’s already forgotten that you’ve broken his precious rule.

you don’t complain, though. how could you when he has you screaming his name, your makeup and sweat leaving a figure the shape of body plastered on his glass walls? you’re sure his housekeeper is going to be so angry at the both of you for leaving cum stains everywhere, but you and nanami have forgotten all about it.

it seems he misses you just as much because nanami doesn’t stop fucking you until you’re full of his cum, breasts swollen and aching from being pressed into the wall for so long.

an hour passed – maybe two – you’ve lost count from the amount of times nanami has made you cum. your legs are giving out beneath you and your latest lingerie set is broken, comforted only by the promise that he’s going to get you good one. you’re absolutely lost in the pleasure of nanami driving his cock impossible deep into you all the way until morning, body spent and shaking from all the orgasms.

fucked out and whining, nanami litters kisses all over your body to soothe you a little bit, but he doesn’t stop. and the truth is, you don’t want him to, either. legs wrapped around his waist and heels digging into his ass, nanami finally tangles his hands into yours as he pistons his cock in and out of your squelching pussy.

he’s giving you his all, and you can’t keep your hands to yourself no matter how hard you’re trying to, not when nanami is prowling into you as you’re spread underneath him before he goes gentle, almost as if making love to you.

well, you could, but why would you want to?

[doctenwho]

Hangovers, Love and Space Vodka (PE Pt. 2)

Hello! Requests are definitely open, even if I’m awfully slow! I feel bad at how slow these are coming out especially since there’s so many in waiting, but writing just hasn’t been on the table recently. Apologies for that!

But I’ve found the time and the motivation, so I decided to get this done! Thank you for your patience! This is such a cute idea, and it always makes me happy that people like the first parts enough to request a continuation. I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you readers like it too! 

So, please enjoy the continuation of Purest Expression (also, you should probably read that one if you haven’t already, this fic heavily references it!) Also, I just thought the name was funny and I was in desperate need for one, so feel free to suggest others if you’ve got one!

Warnings: Talk of alcohol, but no drinking!

Word Count: 4,050

Summary: Check out the prompt above! :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to the talented creator!)

You didn’t really remember a lot when you woke up. All you really knew was you'd drank far too much of that delicious cocktail, and that your brain was pounding in your head. This was quite possibly one of the worst hangovers you’d had, but honestly, you’d do it all over again to have another one of those space cocktails.

You rolled onto your back, lifting your hands to cover your eyes in an attempt to block out what little light managed to stream into the room. Your stomach churned at the movement, but it settled out easily enough after you didn’t move a muscle for a few minutes following your roll.  

You relaxed back into the bed when your stomach settled down, and finally uncovered your eyes, staring up at the ceiling with a bleary gaze.  

As you laid there, you tried to piece together the evening. The bits and pieces between arriving and having enough to drink that you could no longer walk a straight line.  

You knew you’d gone out on the town with the Doctor—he'd been excited to show you things. He'd raved enthusiastically about the planet, and you’d listened along as your own excitement grew too. Then, you remember finally stepping out of the TARDIS and being completely astounded by this new planet, with all its colours, music and general liveliness.  

The cute little bar wedged between two buildings; you remember that too. And of course, you remember the cocktail—you'd had two, or three, or... had it been four? You couldn’t really pinpoint it. The Doctor had said it was weaker than earth vodka, and maybe it was, but the after effects were definitely more intense to a human that human vodka was. That said you’d still be down for another drink or two before you left.  

It was well worth the pain of a hangover to taste that drink again. Just the thought of it made your tastebuds tingle.  

You let out a light laugh before rolling back over onto you side, but this time following it up with pulling yourself to a sitting position. The nausea was still there, but hardly noticeable; just a subtle warning to keep your movements slow and steady lest you start gagging.  

Your head was still pounding, but you knew that wasn’t going to go away without pain killers, so you stumbled to your feet to go find the Doctor. He’d have something that could help, and at this point, you didn’t care what planet it came from, so long as it killed the raging headache and... well, didn’t kill you.  

You found the Doctor in the kitchen of all places.  

He was perched at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in front of him, as well as a book. He startled when you stepped into the room, breathing a light, “oh, (Y/N),” as a greeting.

You continued into the room, wobbling on your feet for just a second, “good morning,” you greeted in return, forcing a smile onto your lips despite the headache, “you don’t happen to have any pain killers do you?”

The Doctor frowned, “are you unwell?”

“Just a bit of a hangover,” you promised with a wave of your hand, “a little worse than an earth alcohol hangover, but it��s manageable. I’ll be fine, my head just really hurts.”

“Right, of course,” the Doctor nodded, pushing himself up and moving towards the cupboards. He rifled around the cabinets, reading labels of things and putting them back before he finally found what he was looking for, “these aren’t of your earth, but they are basically the same thing as your planet’s Advils. I’m sorry I don’t have anything that’ll help from your earth, I should really invest in some if I’m going to keep soliciting companions from earth.”

“Soliciting?” You snorted a laugh, which made you wince lightly, “really?”

“Well, I do tempt you humans away with the offer of the entirety of the universe, now, don’t I?” You smiled at the Doctor’s cheeky grin as he joined you at your side, setting the pill bottle in front of you to do with as you pleased, whether that was to ignore it, or take a couple, before he carried on to the counter. “No different really, I offer the universe in exchange for companionship, and I’m proud to say very few have ever declined. Now, would you like a tea, or coffee?”

“Jokes on the ones who declined, they’re really missing out,” you huffed out as you picked up the pill bottle, surveying over the list of ingredients. None looked too out of the world, but honestly, you’d do anything at this point to ease the thrum of your headache, so you uncapped the bottle, “surprise me.”

The Doctor turned back to flash you a grin from where he’d busied himself at the counter, “will do, my Dear.”

You shook a few pills into your hand from the bottle, eyeing them as if they were about to change colours or something similarly alien-like, but when none of that happened, you frowned, “how many do I take?”

“Well...” the Doctor turned thoughtfully to lean against the counter, “I’d say to start off with one and see if it does anything for you. There will be small differences from planet to planet, and we wouldn’t want you to overdose. After a half an hour you can try taking another pill if one doesn’t help.”

“Sounds good,” you popped a single pill into your mouth before you could hesitate. As if the Doctor was magic, he slid a mug of you go-to morning beverage towards you, and you washed the pill down with a sip of the perfectly prepared drink.  

You savored the taste of your drink, sighing into the warmth. When you’d had a couple sips, you put the cap back on the pill bottle and slid the bottle to the center of the table. You watched the Doctor move around the small kitchen as he made himself another coffee before joining you at the table.  

The two of you settled into a silence, thankfully. You hunched over the table, your elbows on the surface and your cheeks cupped in your palms, as the Doctor continued reading, but he looked like he was lost in his thoughts instead of actually reading.  

“How long have you been up?” you asked slowly, squeezing your eyes shut before blinking them open again to see the Doctor’s gaze on you. “You’re kinda spacing out.”

“I’ve just... some things on my mind,” the Doctor admits with a tiny curl upwards of his lips. It didn’t really answer the question, but at the same time it did. You didn’t think the Doctor had even gone to sleep. “Has the headache eased at all?”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape noticing suddenly that the headache was in fact almost gone. You hadn’t even realized, “yeah,” you informed with a laugh, “almost gone. I didn’t even notice—space things are so much better than earth things; the drugs and alcohol.”

“That would be a very worrying observation if I didn’t know exactly what you were talking about,” the Doctor snorted a laugh. You laughed along too, even if the statement was completely true—it had only been about ten minutes and the space Advil was already working wonders, where as the earth stuff could take anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes to actually kick in.  

“So,” you drawled after another string of comfortable silence between the two of you, “what’s been on you mind then?”

The Doctor eyed you up and down briefly before sighing, running his fingers through his hair and making his already untamed locks stand up at odder angles, “I was just thinking about yesterday.”

“Yesterday,” you parroted under your breath. You’d been thinking about yesterday too. How could you not be? There were still gaps in time where you don’t really remember what happened. “What happened yesterday?”

“You don’t remember?” The Doctor blinked.

“No, I do,” you leaned back in your chair with a sigh, “well, most of it, I think. But some of it... I don’t know? It’s kind of a blur. I guess the cocktails started hitting me towards the end of the evening, I barely remember coming back.”

“You were a bit out of it,” the Doctor admits sheepishly, “glad I cut you off at three drinks then.”

“I could’ve handled more,” you scoffed, smiling widely in a teasing way.  

The Doctor rolled his eyes, leaning forwards, closer to you as his voice dropped, “I do believe three is probably your limit, Love.”

You let out a bout of bright laughter and the Doctor smiled softly. You loved how easy it was to banter with the man—how the two of you were so comfortable with the other that you could tease back and forth like this.  

As if to prove his point, your head gave a warning thrum of pain that drew a shallow breath from you, “yeah,” you shook the pain off, “you’re probably right about three being my space-cocktail limit.”

The Doctor shook his head fondly at you as he settled back in his chair, “so, anything you’d like to know about yesterday? I did promise I’d tell you anything you’d like to know?”

You thought back to what you remembered about yesterday: the walk from the TARDIS to the bar, the ideal seating at the bar, those amazing rainbow cocktails that tasted like dreams. Drinking and chatting and laughing with the Doctor—splitting a plate of chips that were unbelievably delicious... and then... well, the space English the TARDIS didn’t bother translating for you.  

“What was the bartender saying to you?”

The Doctor drew in a breath as his cheeks dusted the faintest pink, “nothing important, I assure.”

“C’mon,” you pouted, cradling your half drank, significantly cooled drink between your hands as you leaned towards the Doctor this time, “you said you promised to tell me about yesterday, right?”

The man chewed at his lip, subdued, but clearly trying to figure out the best course of action, “alright, well, we... I suppose we were acting a tad bit... involved? And... some assumptions were made about us by the barkeep.”

“Involved how?” you raised a questioning eyebrow. “And... what kind of assumptions?”

“Involved involved,” the Doctor cleared his throat, eyeing your level of understanding before rubbing his forehead and adding, “uhm, romantically involved. Those were, well, the main assumptions made as well.”

You gaped for a second before a thought came back to you suddenly, “he kept calling us lovers.”

“Yes,” the Doctor managed a light, fond smile, “I did try to explain it to him: us, our companionship—but, well, he... he didn’t believe me.”

“He didn’t believe you?” You repeated back, surprised.  

“No,” the Doctor laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “he made some pretty solid points in favor of us being romantically involved too, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, “and what points might those be?”

“Well, we were sitting fairly close--”

“As friends do,” the excuse came easily. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but continued on like you hadn’t spoken.

“--I was hovering close to you, I suppose... A bit at least--”

“You were worried about me,” you interjected with a fond eyeroll at how wrong the bartender had been. Lovers? Come on, no way. You guys were... you were friends. Obviously. Though the thought of the Doctor hovering over you, making sure you were okay warmed your heart.  

“--we leaned into each other’s sides, uhm, multiple times throughout the evening--”

You struggled for an excuse for that one, you did tend to lean into his space, not that the Doctor ever seemed to mind. And he liked to press into your personal space as well—neither of you really cared about proximity, so you managed a one shouldered shrug, “it was just loud in the bar, hard to hear each other.”

“--and, well, he pointed out I was staring at you occasionally; odd for him to have noticed, when I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

You couldn’t come up with an excuse for that one, eyebrows furrowing in confusion that made your breath catch in the weirdest way. He’d been staring at you? Why did that make you feel so happy?

“And then the fact that you returned the stare when I wasn’t looking. Honestly, that barkeep spent more time watching us than he did working last night, I’m sure.” The Doctor let out a playful scoff, genuinely amused that the bartender had put more time into them than his job.  

You however, were suddenly caught up in the information.  

He’d been staring at you when you weren’t looking—fondly, you were sure, if it had caught the bartender’s attention and led him to believe the two of you were in a relationship. Then there was the fact that you were staring at him in return? You’d been caught by someone staring at the Doctor? You knew you did it sometimes, how could you not? He was a good-looking, kind, compassionate man who liked your company. Just being with him made your heart speed up.

“That doesn’t mean we’re a couple,” you forced yourself to say, even if... well, you were questioning it just slightly. You knew, of course, that the two of you weren’t a couple but... “That bartender was just bored and looking too far into us, I’m sure he was doing it to everyone...”

“Of course not, surely we’d know if we were, right?” the Doctor agreed with a light grin. The grin only lingered for a second before it faltered and he chewed at his bottom lip. You were about to question it, but he spoke again before you could, “but, well, I suppose there is the song he had to go off of as well.”

“The song?” You questioned before it all flooded back—well, most of it, at least, “we were on a stage. We... we sang together. Was that a karaoke bar or something?”

“We were,” the Doctor ducked his head in a nod, “we... did. And it, well, it was kind of like your earth karaoke bar. Do you remember anything about it?”

You tried to remember, you know the Doctor explained it last night after he’d gotten the information from the barkeeper, but you still don’t really know. And you’re sure there were bits and pieces that he didn’t tell you last night as well. So, you shook your head.

“Right,” the man nodded, settling his elbows on the tabletop as he held his chin up, “well, the concept of the song ritual we were roped into performing is that you sing whatever song best corresponds to what you think about your peer. I’m not exactly sure how it works to be honest, the expression through song is just strong.”

“So, whatever I felt about you would be... conveyed through a song?”

“Yes.” The Doctor gives a light nod.

“And whatever you felt about me would... would also be?”

“Indeed,” his head tilts as he surveys you, trying to piece together where you were going with this string of questions.  

“But... we sang a duet, didn’t we?” You furrowed your eyebrows, running a finger along the rim of your mug. You faintly remembered chiming in with the Doctor’s song, instantly knowing the new lines to his song despite not knowing his lines, or the actual song. “Does that happen? What... what does it mean?”

“Well,” the Doctor cleared his throat, looking nervous. “It does happen, it’s just, well, it’s rare? I suppose. The barkeeper, just before we left, told me that the last time he saw a duet happen during the expression through song ceremony was when he was a child.”

“Wow, okay,” you bit the inside of your cheek. You had a feeling you knew what it meant, and the thought made your cheeks heat up, but you asked anyways, “what does a duet mean?”

“Well, generally speaking...” the Doctor shot you a small, crooked smile, “it means that we feel exactly the same way about each other. Exactly the same to the point that our expression would be through the same song, at the same time.”

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but repeat, “that’s... wow. So it really is unusual then? Why did it happen to us? Was it a fluke?”

“No, don’t think so,” the Doctor shakes his head, a blush rising to his cheeks as his fingers tap against the table, “something like that would be hard to fake, so I doubt it was a fluke. We chose the song—deep in our subconscious when thinking of the other... I mean... I didn’t know the lyrics beforehand, did you?”

“No,” you breathed out, fingers fiddling with your empty mug, “I don’t even think I remember the lyrics now. They were just... in my head when they needed to be. I didn’t even know your lines of the song. It’s weird that we were the people that got the duet—random visitors.”

“It was the same for me,” the Doctor sends you a small smile, “I think few people view their... companion the same way their companion views them. It seems highly unlikely that any two people can feel the exact same way...”

You’re not sure why, but there’s something different about the way the Doctor says companion this time around. Maybe he holds a different fondness than you’re used to, or perhaps some other reason, but there’s an unfamiliar warmth in the word.  

“But we did,” you whisper, looking up momentarily and catching the Doctor’s eyes before dropping your gaze back to your cup.

“But we did,” the Doctor repeats, just slightly louder than you. Like he too can’t wrap his brain around it. There’s a pause before the Doctor’s clearing his throat, forcing a crooked smile onto his lips. “Well, I promised you we head to the shops for some alcohol and other treats, didn’t I?”

The Doctor stands, moving swiftly towards the door without looking back.

“I meant it, you know?” You speak before you even realize you’re speaking. You don’t see the Doctor stop, since you’re facing the other direction, but you hear his steps come to a halt, feet planting in spot.  

He doesn’t say anything for a second, which prompts you on, “I do need you.”

He still doesn’t say anything, or move, so you stand and gather both your mug and his own, walking in the opposite direction from him towards the sink. You set the mugs in but don’t touch the faucet, instead mumbling a soft, “I want you.”

You’re not even sure if he’d still there anymore, or if he’d taken you moving as his cue to escape. You don’t turn to look, afraid to not find him there, so instead you whisper what little of your lyrics from yesterday that you remember, “come on back to me.”

Another moment of silence drags in before you hear the Doctor moving. His steps are quick, and you think he’s leaving out the door when suddenly hands are on your waist and he’s swiftly turning you around and gently pushing you against the edge of the counter beside the sink.  

You manage to muffle your surprise as his lips press against yours, soft but urgently all the same.  

You melt into his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands leave your waist, one wrapping around your middle, as the other rises to cup at your jaw. It spurs you on too, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him just slightest bit close, to which he blindly follows your lead.  

You don’t pull away until the need to breath outweighs how good it feels to be kissing him.

You both gasp for breath, but neither of you pull away, lips still touching the faintest bit, “I didn’t think you even remembered the lyrics... how... intimate the duet was...” It’s the first thing the Doctor’s said since trying to flee the room.

You slowly open your eyes, catching his eyes waiting to make contact and a smile pulls at your lips. You pull away a bit, pushing your forehead against his, “I didn’t really remember the lyrics until just now, but I never forgot the feeling of singing them to you, and hearing you singing them back to me.”

The arm around your waist tightens around you, “I didn’t know you felt the same way,” the Doctor whispers. “I didn’t want to... make you uncomfortable, or chase you away. And then you woke up this morning, and didn’t remember anything with the hangover, so I... was going to let it go.”

You’re sure you make a noise of protest, maybe even disappointment, but you only assume because the Doctor lets out a chuckle before stealing another kiss that you’re more than happy to give.  

When he goes to pull back, you snake your hand up to hold him in place, mumbling softly against his lips the last of your lyrics, a message he’d sure to understand, “I love you sundown.”

The Doctor freezes against you pulling back just enough to look into your eyes before a smile creeps onto his face. You smile at his smile, watching him fondly as his head tilts in that adorable way, affection bright in his eyes, “and I, you, my Love.”

You melt at the words leaning into him and pressing your head against his chest, fitted perfectly under his chin like a puzzle piece. Your arms wrap around him, and his move to hold you against himself just as you had done to him seconds earlier.  

You stay like that for a while—you're not sure how long. You feel protected tucked against the Doctor, and it’s a feeling you’re never going to forget.  

“How’s your head?” he asks softly above you, the voice after so long of nothing by his steady heart beats startles you. The Doctor presses an apologetic kiss to the top of your head.

“Better,” you decide, nuzzling closer to him, “why?”

“Well, I did promise we’d check out the shops, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“I almost forgot about that,” you laugh, finally pulling away. The Doctor unwraps his hand begrudgingly, frowning as he does so. You let out a laugh, slipping your hand into his. “I wanna see the shops before we leave this evening. We’ve gotta get some of that vodka.”

“I see more hangovers in your near future,” the Doctor snorts as he leads you along by the hand.  

“Oh, and, we should definitely pick up a gift for the bartender from last night,” you add, ignoring the Doctor’s teasing jab at your weak human alcohol tolerance.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, without his instance that we sing, and his instance that we were a couple, none of this,” you gesture down to your interlocked hands as the two of you step out of the TARDIS and onto the busy, colourful streets, “would’ve happened.”

The Doctor’s quiet for a second as the two of you fall into step. “There’s nothing in the universe that can ever thank him enough for what he’s done,” the man softly admits, giving your hand an adoring squeeze that drives his words home.  

Your cheeks heat up as you tuck yourself in his side. He moves easily to accommodate you, releasing your hand to wrap his arm over your shoulders instead. You move your hand to squeeze around his waist, grinning as you respond cheekily, “I don’t know, Doctor, the space vodka is pretty good...”  

The man sputters at your response, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow, “I was being all cute and you’re comparing the gift of our newfound relationship to vodka?” the man questions, genuinely dumbfounded.  

You give a one shouldered shrug at his side, giggling at his reaction. It wasn’t long until the man was letting out a fond sigh, thumb stroking against your collarbone, “what am I going to do with you?”  

The tease in his words has you smiling. There really is nothing in the universe that seems equivalent to the gift the bartender bestowed to you, but... yeah, a bottle of space vodka was a nice start.  

<><><><>

Hello again! Hopefully you liked this continuation. Not sure if it kept to the prompt exactly, I got a bit carried away writing it, but nonetheless, I hope it was good! Feel free to prompt again if it wasn’t what you were looking for, as always!

I’ll try to keep up with the prompts but idk how well I’ll be able to manage between life and the other works in other fandoms. Anyways, hope you have a great morning/day/night!

[indiee19]

Of Those Wild Nights

Alex Turner x reader

Summary: You make Alex jealous and he proves that you're his.

warnings: smut, fingering

word count: 2.3k

-Requested from Wattpad

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You were looking over the menu, patiently waiting for Alex to arrive at the restaurant that he asked you to go to for a date. It had to have been at least an hour since you arrived, and there was still no Alex. The waiter came over to the table where you were sitting quite a few times, hoping to take your order, but you always insisted that you were waiting for someone and that you would order whenever they got there, but you gave up on that after you had been there past the hour mark. This wasn't the first time that he never showed up for a date; it most certainly wouldn't be the last time.

Though, as much as you hated eating alone, you didn't want to let the reservations that Alex had set to go to waste and you decided to go on and order. The waiter came and took your order, and you soon decided to also order some red wine, needing the alcohol to to wash all the thoughts of Alex standing you up away.

Soon after your wine arrived, someone tapped on your shoulder and said your name. You expected it to be Alex and hoped that he realized that you were probably waiting for him, but no, instead it was one of your old friends that you unfortunately couldn't see as much as you would like because of their job that asked them to travel quite a lot.

You stood up and hugged him, you remembered the last time you saw him: nearly a year ago. "Oh my god, how have you been?" he asked, pulling away from the hug

"I'm good. You?" you replied.

"Same as always, oh, and I just got promoted actually, which means that I don't have to travel as much," he answered. "May I?" he asked, motioning to the empty seat across from you.

You nodded and he sat down, the waiter coming over and handing him a menu, taking his drink order. You were glad that he showed up, even though it wasn't supposed to be him that you were going to eat with.

"If you don't mind me asking, but ... where the hell is Alex?" he asked, knowing you too well that you would never go to a restaurant as fancy as this one without Alex, and that you never liked going out to fancy places alone.

"Uh ... he's, uh ... he's, I have no clue where he is actually. I mean, I knew that he was going to the studio today, but he knew about  tonight, a-and ... I don't really know, to be honest," you explained, adding the extra bit of information about Alex knowing about the date.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry about that," he said, not understanding why Alex hadn't shown up to a date with you. You knew that you told him about Alex and he stayed silent, more than likely going over all of the things that you had told about Alex, saying that he was a romantic sweetheart, an amazingly goofy and funny person, that he could literally cure any sadness that you had with his smile, and that he never missed a date with you. But, you told him that three years ago, and since then he's still been all of those things, but never lived up to the 'never missing a date' part again.

You knew that Alex worked hard on his music and that's why he couldn't make it to all of the dates, but you wished that every once and a while he would just stop thinking about music and spend time with you. You knew that was selfish, but it was true.

"Uh, anyways, how has your work been?" your friend asked, changing the subject, seeing that you didn't want to talk about it.

"Its been good actually," you said, sitting up in your seat better. "I recently got promoted as well," you added.

"That's amazing," he said. The waiter soon came back to your table with your food and they took your friends' order, quickly running it to the kitchen. It didn't take as long for your friends' food to arrive and you both started eating your food, drinking the expensive wine that you ordered.

You had drank two glasses of wine, enjoying the conversations that you and your friend had, the thought of where the hell Alex was not even crossing your mind once after you started your first glass, and you certainly didn't mind that.

When you were all done with your food, you and your friend ordered dessert, a piece of cheesecake each, devouring it within a span of forty-five minutes. By the end of the night you were absolutely stuffed, not being able to eat anything else, so you and your friend decided to pay.

You called the waiter over for the check and he asked if you would be splitting the bill.

"No, we're paying together," your friend said. The waiter nodded and brought back the bill, your friend getting out his wallet and laying the amount due - and a tip - on the table, to your dismay of course. You tried to pay half of the bill, but he wasn't having it, always handing you back your money, but he did let you leave a tip. The waiter came back over and took the money; you and your friend got up and exited the restaurant.

On your way out, you accidently tripped over your own feet, your friend catching you before you fell and you both laughed. "Hey, isn't that Alex over there?" your friend asked, pointing out Alex watching you both, smoking a cigarette, leaned up against his car.

"Uh, yeah, it is," you answered. You both walked over to him and Alex took one last drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke away from you and flicked it on the ground. "Hey, Al," you said, going up to him for a kiss, him not returning it.

"Who's this you're with?" he asked, gesturing to your friend.

"Oh, I'm-" Alex cut him off.

"Look, I didn't like 'ow you were touching me girlfriend like that," he said, bringing up your accidental tripping. "Alex he was-"  Alex cut you off instantly.

"Get in the car," he drawled, opening the door for you. "But-" you were cut off again.

"It's fine, really," your friend said, walking to his car, waving to you. "Bye."

You sighed and got into the car, buckling your seatbelt, Alex walking around to the drivers side, getting in as well. He started the car and began to pull out of the parking lot, beginning to drive home.

"Alex, are you alright?" you asked, turning towards him in the seat.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be? Just saw me girlfriend being touched by another man, so yeah, why wouldn't I be?" he answered. You knew that he was jealous before you got in the car, but now it was the most obvious thing. You wanted to say something else but didn't, stopping yourself before the first word left your mouth, and you were thankful that he didn't say anything the entire way home.

The drive wasn't long and you were happy about that, the tension building between you and Alex more. As soon as you got home and got inside, Alex had already pushed you back against the door, his lips attaching to your neck, sucking on one spot, leaving a hickey. Marking you like a damn horny teenager.

You couldn't do much except for snaking your hands into his hair, pulling on it as he kept kissing your neck, biting down on a few places. He pulled away, starring you down. "You're mine," he drawled, tugging on your dress, pulling it over your head, it hitting the floor with a soft thud.

Alex looked you up and down, admiring your body that he knew so well by now, maybe even better than you did. When his eyes met yours all you saw was lust, the dull ache between your legs growing at a surprisingly fast rate.

Alex moved closer to you, nudging your legs apart, pushing the material of your underwear to the side, fingers teasing your folds, hissing at how wet you were, his fingers coming into contact with your clit. You grabbed onto his shoulder to brace yourself, closing your eyes.

"You're so wet, baby, all for me?" he asked, two of his fingers circling your entrance, spreading your arousal around.

"Y-yes, all ... fuck ... for you," you whimpered,  moaning when he pushed his two fingers inside of you. It hadn't even been five minutes and he'd already rid you of your dress and had you writhing for him.

He slowly started to move his fingers, going slow to tease you. Watching you throw your head back against the wall, he moved his fingers faster and you moaned, nails digging into his shoulders.

He was still fully clothed, not even his jacket was off, and that turned you on all the more, but you wanted to feel him and your hands began to push off his jacket, hitting the floor behind him, then you started on his shirt, managing to get a few buttons undone before his free hand grabbed your and pinned them against the wall above your head.

"Let me touch you, baby," you said, tugging on your hands.

"No, gonna show you that you're mine, gonna make you remember," he drawled, moving his fingers in and out of you faster, your orgasm building up faster and faster with each movement of his fingers.

Moans fell from your mouth, getting louder and louder, so much so that you thought your neighbors could hear you. Alex's thumb soon found your clit, rubbing on it harshly, driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. He curled his finger inside you, hitting the spot that made you see stars behind your eyelids.

"D-do that again, Alex," you said, voice trailing off into a moan as he repeated the motion, smirking when your hips bucked into his touch. You knew that you were close and so did Alex, his movements somehow speeding up, rubbing on your clit faster.

"God, Alex, I'm s-so close," you whimpered, the knot in the pit of your stomach growing more and more.

"I know, love," he said. "Let go for me."

He curled his fingers deep inside of your, pressing down on your clit, tipping you over the edge and you moaned loudly. He kept pumping his fingers in and out of you, helping you ride out your high.

You came down from your high and Alex removed his fingers from you, releasing your hands from his grasp. You were panting heavily, Alex always somehow managing to take it away.

He pulled you flat against his chest and placed his hands on the underside of your thighs, signaling for you to jump, and you did, arms wrapping around his neck as he carried you to the bedroom, practically throwing you down on the bed. You watched him closely as he started to remove his own clothes, shuffling out of his pants and boots, removing his socks. He crawled over you, kissing up your chest to your neck, biting down on a few spots, leaving a mark.

Your hands ghosted over his chest, going to his hair, bringing him in for a kiss. You felt him hard through his boxers on your thigh, starting to mindlessly grind on him. He pulled away, and helped you remove your underwear, removing his as well. He nudged your thighs apart, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing his hips forward, filling you up with in two pushes.

He started to move almost instantly, giving you very little amount of time to adjust to his size, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you. You wrapped your legs around him, moaning when he sank deeper inside of you, one of your hands gripped his bicep that was beside your head, the other one going to his hair while his other arm gripped your hip.

He started off slow, his pace gradually increasing. You knew that it wouldn't take much before you were sent spiraling again, and Alex knew that too. His eyes pierced into yours, never once breaking the eye contact.

His hand that was holding onto your hips came in between our bodies, starting to rub on your clit, eliciting a loud moan from you, tugging on his hair harder. You could tell that Alex was just as close as you, his thrusts becoming sloppier with each one.

"A-Alex, I'm close," you said, nails digging into his skin on his arm, so close to your orgasm that you desperately needed.

"Me too, love," he said, delivering a very hard thrust, flicking your clit at the same time, which was enough to tip you over the edge, your eyes rolling back into your head. The sensation of your walls contracting around Alex's cock was enough to trigger his own release, hips stilling, releasing inside of you, collapsing on top of you.

You both laid there until you came down from your highs, Alex pulling out of you so that all of his weight wouldn't all be on you, laying down beside you. "You better now?" you asked cuddling up to him.

"I, uh ... I..." he stuttered, holding you close.

"It's okay, Al, you can tell me," you coaxed, kissing his temple. "I just ... I just sometimes feel like you'll want to leave me for some other bloke and when I saw you with 'im, I guess I just got angry and sad and jealous. I mean, look at you, who wouldn't want you and then look at me, who would want me?" he explained. Your heart broke, couldn't stand to hear him talk bad about himself.

"Alex, you're absolutely perfect. You're smart, kind, funny, handsome, and so much more. And as much as I love my friend, I love you even more," you said, kissing his lips now.

"Really?" he asked. You nodded and he nuzzled into your neck, placing a few light kisses to it. "I love you too, baby," he said. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Al," you said, the both of you drifting off to sleep.

[dxrkluvie]

SHALL WE CHERRY?

JEAN K. x EREN x FEM READER

threesome 18+ smut

Full story available on my ao3. Click here.

Story name : " Shall we cherry? "

If you like my stories, please support me on insta --> @/llllenaj

You: I am bad at first impressions. 

Eren: Do you want me to drive you home?

 

You nodded and let him lead the way. When you reached his car, he held the door open for you. It made you blush lightly. 

When he sat down on the seat next to yours, his shirt lifted a little bit, revealing his well-toned abs. You looked away immediately. 

 

Eren: Are you okay?

You: Yes.

He started driving. The lights were reflecting on his face, you noticed how well sculpted it was. A few hairs were falling on his forehead. 

 

He was just so fine. 

 

You: How old are you? 

Eren: 19. And you?

You: Me too. Thank you for giving me a ride tonight. 

Eren: It's nothing. By the way, the offer still stands.

You: What offer?

Eren: Mushes and wee- WHO GAVE YOU YOUR FUCKING LICENCE FUCKING PIECE OF SCUM?- the boy yelled as the driver in front of you who took a right turn without flashing their indicators. 

You: If you don't cuss on the way, you're doing it wrong.

Eren: I would love to crucify those fuckers. 

You: I wonder if they paid their instructors. 

Eren: Perhaps.

You: I've never done shrooms. What is it like?

Eren: It depends on how much you take. Typically you see the colors a lot more vividly, they're A LOT brighter and sometimes they'd move. Also, you could get an intense body high. It enhances your feelings and messes with your head but in a very beautiful way. 

You: Oh, weird. Have your friends done it?

Eren: Yes. I am not into fake shit. Natural all the way, there's no such thing like dying from weed or mushes. UNLESS you've mistakenly picked the wrong shroom, but I'm not dumb. 

You: I don't know...

Eren: You don't have to be afraid, I will take care of you. 

You: Oh...- you looked down, blushing once more. Being all shy and mushy was so not you. But damn, this charming brat. 

The boy shook his head and looked for his parking spot.

You: Wait, we are here already?

Eren: I assume you were too busy daydreaming.

You: Oh, sorry. 

Eren's phone buzzed. It was a message from Armin saying: 

 

' Hello, Jean drove me home, I would appreciate it if you let me rest for a little while on my own and not come home yet as this whole gathering thing was too much for me. Thank you, Eren.' 

The boy texted back: 

 Okay, is Jean home though?

A: No, he went out.

E: Okay, rest well - he said and drifted away from the parking lot. - Change of plans. If you don't mind.

 

You: What happened? And I do not.

Eren: Something's up with Armin, he's just so sensitive like that. It will be fine. 

You: I don't feel like going home yet...

 

Eren: Where do you want to g- before he could finish, he received a call. It was Jean. 

 

J: Where the hell are you?

E: I should be asking the same. I am in the car with y/n. 

J: Armin kicked me out of the dorm. 

Eren rolled his eyes. 

E: I am not sure what we could do.

 

You, mouthing: Maybe we could try a motel?

 

E: Y/n is suggesting a motel, are you down?

J: Yeah, just give me the address whenever.

E: Okay, cool.

 

They hung up. The boy looked at you, his eyes were beyond stunning. - Why a motel? 

You: You know I am new here, I'd like to see what it is like outside of this city. Just curiosity. 

 

One of your fantasies was to have sex in a motel with a hot stranger. And today's events were working in your favor. You thought it was oddly romantic and you'd always make up fake scenarios in your head where this was happening.  You drove outside of the city for about half an hour. Eren was slowly losing patience. 

Maybe we could try this one? - he suggested, pointing out to a random building. 

You: Sure- you replied, googling the place- it has 4.7/5 stars and breakfast is included. $130 a night. 

Eren: Sure. - he said and got out of the car. Next, he opened the door for you and waited for you to get out, before locking it. 

You found those gestures cute.

When you entered the place, the receptionist gave you a weird look. It made you feel unwelcome. Eren did not bother reacting, he just took out his card out and tapped it on the pin pad.

Room #16 is for you - the old lady spoke - good night.

Eren: Night. 

You walked to the elevator.

It fascinated you how unbothered he was.

You: Did you see that?

Eren: She's probably sick of random teens renting a place to party/fuck, cause they don't have their own places yet. 

You laughed - I will give it to your cash. 

Jean called again. The phone call consisted of him asking for the location, and Eren simply giving it to him followed by the questions '' Should I bring cherries and alcohol? '' to which Eren answered ''yes'' and hung up. 

 

While you were walking past the other rooms, you could hear noises of all sorts. Sweet moaning, people fighting, loud music, and people yelling. 

Eren unlocked the door slowly. You stood behind him, carefully observing his hand movements. It was oddly arousing. His hands were big and had some veins slightly popping out. 

The smell of his expensive cologne was spreading into the air. He took his tie off and threw it across the room. The same happened to the hair tie that held his hair up. 

Neither of you was talking. 

You sat on the bed, and he did the same. Both of you had your backs turned on one another. 

15 minutes passed in silence when Jean suddenly opened the door with a bang. 

Jean: HELLOOOOOOOO!

Eren: Ew.

Jean: Get lost - the boy shook his head and placed the bag he carried with him on one of the nightstands- I brought what you wanted me to. 

Eren: So, shall we cherry? -  he asked, no one in particular. 

You: What is that? 

Jean: Kind of like a drinking game but not exactly. The rules are really simple. You dip a cherry in vodka and place it in-between your lips. The other person has to take the cherry without touching your lips OR they'll have to give you oral.

You looked away, squeezing your eyes and lips. 

Jean: All good?

Eren: It's fun. You don't have to, though.

Jean: Yeah if it's not something you think you could have fun with.

You: No I would actually try that.

Eren: Oh? - his tone changed. The boy took one of the already washed cherries. Jean handed him a plastic cup where he poured some vodka and dipped the fruit in it. He placed it on top of your lips and you aimed to eat it right away.

Jean: You broke the rule.

You: Fuck, I am sorry it wasn't intentional. 

Eren: It's okay. How did it taste?

You: Sweet and slightly bitter. 

His eyes narrowed at you. It almost looked like he was putting a lot of effort into getting the fruit in between his lips, that you've been dying to taste for a while.

You leaned closer to him and he purposefully pushed the cherry away with his tongue - Oh shit it fell. 

You: This was on purpose.

The boy placed his hand at the back of your head- I will give you a head if you want.

Jean: Can I join?

You nodded, embarrassed.

Another thing that has been a common fantasy of yours was to be fucked by two guys, but you never thought it would ever become reality.

Eren slid your right leg up. Jean did the same with your left one.

You laid on the bed, breathing heavily.

Jean lowered his voice, making it appear huskier - Relax, baby girl, you'll enjoy that tongue.

Eren lazily lifted your dress up, and Jean slid your pants down.

Both of them were taking turns to kiss on both of your thighs. You could feel your skin get more sensitive after every touch.

Blood rushed down and you felt warmth between your hips.

Jean spread your pussy open using his middle and index finger & Eren gave your throbbing clit a slow teasing lick.

Jean: She's getting wetter it's so hot.

Eren: I know.

This small dirty talk was causing your thirst for them to grow.

Eren: She is dying to get her hole licked, aren't you, y/n?

You let out a loud ' yes ' & shortly afterward you felt both of their tongues lick up and down on both of your pussy lips.

It made your toes curl.

Eren's finger started to slowly pump in and out of your hole as Jean's tongue was eagerly gliding up and down on your wet cunt.

The room got filled with your sweet " ah's " and "oh's".

At one point you felt both of their tongues battling one another across your clit and it was nearly leaving you breathless. 

The boys stopped and looked up at you.

Eren: Have you done this before?

You: As in a threesome?

He nodded. You replied with a '' no '. 

Eren: How is it going so far?

You: Amazing. I actually want to return the favor. 

Both of them stood up. 

Now you were off the bed, kneeling before them. You could see the lust in their eyes. Especially Jean's. 

Both of your hands took a place on both of their dicks. They were gently stroking them as your mouth was giving them licks and sucks on their tips, going from Jean's cock to Eren's back and forth, in a pattern. 

One thing you've noticed was that Eren was tenser, his body language was more indicative. He was rock hard, his pupils were dilated and he was thrusting in your mouth slightly when given the chance. 

As for Jean - he was more vocal. He'd let out some quiet groans here and there and you would occasionally hear some ' fuck yes '.

Eren: Go lay down. 

You did as ordered.

Jean: Hold on - the boy said and laid down first, leaning against the bed frame - you can lay on me.

You hesitated for a bit. Eren walked up to you, lifted your chin up, and kissed you. His hands slid down to your boobs and squeezed them gently. His thumbs massaged on your nipples. It made you wetter. 

" Okay... " you said and crawled on top of him, having him face your back. 

Jean placed his hand around your neck and kissed on it - Have you done anal? - he asked, whispering. 

You: No. 

Jean: Would you be interested? 

You: Yes. 

He placed his thumb on your lips, you licked it. 

Jean: Shitt...- he grunted and slid both of his hands down on your body, as yours were surrounded his, supporting your whole upper half. Your legs spread open and Eren made his way to you once again. 

His lips were on top of your clit, sucking and licking on it. 

His thumb moved down to your asshole and he carefully massaged on it in circles. He stopped for a second and looked at you - I am going to insert it in... - the boy spoke quietly while doing so.

Your body tensed up. You felt full but in a good way.

To your pleasant surprise, he was good at giving oral and a bit more gentle than his friend was.

Jean: Should I stick it in? I want to fuck you so hard, y/n.

You: Go for it.

Eren got on top of both of you. He leaned forward to give you a passionate kiss. He did the same to Jean. You noticed how attractive he looked up-close.

You: Fuck that's so hot...

Eren's cock slid inside your wet pussy as for Jean's, in your back entrance. Slowly.

You moaned as both of them started to push themselves inside you.

Eren was about an inch and a half bigger than Jean. It made you leak. He smirked - You're that wet for me?

You: Yes - you whispered against his lips and kissed him.

Both of them started thrusting inside your holes at a quicker pace.

You moaned loudly and leaked a bit more.

The pressure was building up rather quicker than you expected it to as your sweet spots were stimulated at the same time.

You: Fuck I'll squirt all over you.

Eren stopped moving and placed his lips on your neck, slowly kissing down on you.

His tongue teased your nipples. They hardened even more. Every touch of his, or Jean's was making your skin more sensitive.

The view of you and Eren indulging made Jean stop for a second as well and enjoy the show.

Your hips moved against Eren's.

He bit on your lower lip - That eager, huh?

You: Yes...

Jean's hands were firmly holding your butt, viciously slamming it down on his while Eren was filling you up from the front.

You were nearly reaching your climax and soon you squirted.

Both of them mentioned how hot this was.

You giggled a bit. - I am pretty sure we will ruin the mattress.

Eren: Who gives a shit...

Jean: Y/n...

You: Yes?

Jean: Can I cum in you?

You: Yeah...it should be okay.

Eren stopped and took a chair, sitting in front of both of you.

Jean used you for his own pleasure, as for Jaeger - for his entertainment.

He began to jerk off to the view of you being fucked.

Your hole was tight and it made Jean cum instantly.

Eren: Oh shit... -

You: Can I get off? - you asked Jean.

He said ' yes '. Before leaving though, you gave him a kiss, which he returned.

Next, your lips transferred to Eren's. He held the back of your head. Your fingers ran through his hair. Your eyes locked.

You: Do you need help?

Eren: Sure.

Once again, you kneeled down. Your tongue licked on his whole length. Your mouth was on his balls now, taking each one in as your hand was stroking him.

His breathing got heavier and his precum leaked.

You: Are you enjoying that?

Eren: Very much so fuck...

You: Cum for me, Eren.

The boy grunted and shot out a few loads - Enough! - he said and gently pushed you away.

You looked at him.

Eren: You should try sex on shrooms, it makes everything × 10 better.

You: I don't see why I wouldn't.

You blushed. Both of your wildest dreams have combined in one in just one night and you felt somewhat satisfied. Both- sexually and emotionally.

Eren: How are you accepting what just happened?- the boy asked as he stood up and handed everyone a tissue.

[bangtann-bangdamn]

Summary: All you wanted was a quiet place to study. Instead, you’re initiated into a host club after breaking a vase worth thirty-one million won

Pairing: OT7 x female reader

Genre: Slice of life, school AU, humour

Prompt: Ouran Highschool Host Club inspired

Word count: 1.4k

AN: I’ve wanted to write an Ouran inspired fic for a while but I didn’t know what to do with it. So this was the perfect excuse to dabble with the idea.

All you wanted was a quiet place to study. Which, considering the price people paid to attend this school, you would have thought that you would be swimming with choices. But apparently paying for an education eliminated any and all need for quiet study areas.

The library, the one place you thought you could count on, was currently home to the debate society who were not only loud but large enough that the three-story library no available tables. And even if you could find a spot, the space was open and all noise seemed to reverberate through the building with such efficiency that you could hear Lee Minho’s cackles from the ground floor.

So you made your way over to the abandoned music corridor. Or, at least, you thought it was abandoned. You had checked the after-school group list several times to make sure no one would be around and nowhere on the sheet did it say that Music room number three was occupied.

That was the only reason why you found yourself standing in front of the large ornate double doors that Tuesday afternoon. If you had known what was on the other side of the doors, you wouldn’t have entered the room with such confidence, letting the door bang against the wall as it swung open and revealed the seven most notorious faces around the school.

Seokjin was the only one with his back to you when you opened the door. He turned slowly and the sun seemed to follow his movements, casting a halo around his form. He smiled as his eyes met yours.

“Ah, I see we have a new visitor. Welcome to Bangtan Sonyeondan.” He stepped forward, his whole body oozing elegance as he stopped in front of you. He frowned as he brushed a strand of your short hair away from your face. “We don’t usually have a lot of guys pass through our doors, but we’re not one to turn away someone in need.”

You were often mistaken as a boy that you had somewhat grown used to it. You had cut your hair short before transferring schools. Not because you wanted short hair, exactly, but because you were tired of maintaining long hair. You had decided it would be much more practical to have short hair that only required a quick brush through in the morning so you could spend more time on your studies.

So hearing Seokjin refer to you as a male wasn’t what had you staring dumbly at them. It was the fact he was speaking directly to you in the first place.

In fact, as Seokjin took your hand and led you over to the rest of his group, your mind whirled to catch up with what was going on.

Seokjin placed his hand on your back and pushed you slightly towards the other guys, who eyed you with mild interest.

“Isn’t that YLN YN? The scholarship student?” Hoseok asked, turning to face Yoongi with a small pout on his face. Hoseok was a fourth-year student who was known for his love of all things cute. He was often found carrying a Kaws teddy with a giant smile on his face. The complete opposite to his best friend.

Yoongi nodded his head as he eyed you with the same lack of expression he was renowned for. The smaller man rarely spoke to anyone other than Hoseok, but half the female population were in love with him for his prowess on the piano.

“Isn’t he in our class?” Taehyung leaned towards Jimin, covering his mouth with his hand as if he were whispering but making no attempt to lower his voice. The pair kept to themselves, rarely engaging in any conversation with anyone except each other unless it was to make a joke. And even then, that had never happened in your time at the school.

Jimin stepped closer towards you, looking down at your clothing. As a scholarship student, you were awarded the benefit of not needing to wear a uniform. It had sounded wonderful when you started. You hated wearing skirts and you found the top button of your shirt always dug into your throat. So you opted to wear loose trousers and a nice baggy jumper to keep you warm. But then you had started and you realised what not wearing a uniform really meant. It was like a neon sign followed you everywhere, indicating that you weren’t even close to the wealth bracket these students came from. And thus, none had ever bothered to get to know you other than the courteous ‘hello’ when you were paired with them for assignments.

“I don’t recognise him…” Jimin trailed off as he got uncomfortably close to your face. You leant back in an attempt to keep some of your personal space.

Namjoon grabbed the back of Jimin’s uniform and pulled him back. “What have we said about invading people’s personal spaces.” Namjoon rolled his eyes as he let Jimin’s uniform go once he was a comfortable distance away from you.

Namjoon, you knew, was a third-year student along with Seokjin. Unlike Seokjin, he wasn’t known for his friendliness with the ladies. Sure, he was still well-loved by the female population of the school, but he was known as the calculating one. He made connections based on what his family needed.

“I’m sorry, I was just looking for a quiet place to study.” You took a step back, throwing your hands up to show that you meant no harm. All you wanted was to leave the room in one piece. Your back bumped into someone, making you jump. You whirled around only to come face to face with Jungkook

“I’m sorry about my hyungs, Yn.” Jungkook’s doe eyes looked at you sweetly, quietly begging you to stay. “They can be a little rude.”

He was the youngest of the group, only a first-year student. But just like the other students, he was well-loved. His family were known martial artists, most of whom belonged to the South Korean militia, but despite their fierce reputation he was known for being an absolute cutie-pie.

You could feel your resolve to high-tail it out of the room dissolve as you stared at him. It was the kind of face that was impossible to say no to.

“Oh, well I didn’t mean to intrude,” You stumbled out, blinking heavily in an attempt to clear your mind.

Seokjin slung his arm over your shoulder as he paid no mind to what you were saying. “Now we have to show our utmost respect, boys, to our lonely soul here. He needs guidance and has sought after our expertise.” You could almost see the stars in his eyes at the mere thought of being needed.

You jumped from his hold as you began to protest. “No, no! That’s not it at all. I’m good! Really!” you insisted no longer paying attention to your surroundings.

Which was probably why you backed straight into a display table hosting an expensive looking vase. One minute you were protesting help, the next you were scrambling after the falling vase in an attempt to catch it.

You never had a chance.

“Oh, Grandma donated that vase.” Taehyung pouted as he gazed forlornly down at the vase’s shattered remains.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll pay for it!” You insisted, reaching for the pocket in your bag with your purse.

“Wasnt that vase worth thirty-one million?” Jimin’s brow rose, barely containing his excitement at the destruction before him.

You blanched at the price. “Thirty-one million?” you repeated, hand freezing from where it held your purse in your bag.

“Oh, the poor dear will never be able to afford that!” Hoseok commented, looking over to Yoongi for confirmation. Yoongi swiftly nodded his head and Hoseok’s attention returned to you. “There must be some other way they can pay?” Hoseok turned towards Namjoon.

They all did. Which was when you knew you weren’t going to like what he said next.

“Hm, I suppose they could work as our lackey. If they worked the remainder of their time here, they should be able to clear their debt. So long as no other accidents occur, that is.” He sent you a pointed look before sighing as Jin waltzed straight back to you.

He spun you around as he sang, “So it’s official. YLN YN, welcome to our host club!”

BGW Drabble Master List

Master List

[davidpastrsnack]

on the way - pierre-luc dubois

a/n: this is just pure self-indulgent filth. i'm so sorry, i need jesus or something. anyways please let me know what you think! oh and go listen to on the way by jhené aiko. also there’s one little easter egg in here and i'm dying to see if any of my very specific fellow whores pick up on it.

word count: 2.7k

It sounded like an intriguing idea at first, but now nearly a week and a half later you were struggling.

No matter how hard you tried to distract yourself, it wasn’t happening. Your mind was stuck on him. His intoxicating scent, his large frame that made you feel so tiny, his soft beard that your thighs had suffered at the hands of more times than you could count.

Sex with Pierre had always been an adventure, one you had no complaints about, but this was your idea to keep things interesting. The season was long and exhausting, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have moments when you missed the excitement of those first touches early in your relationship. In hopes of getting that feeling back, you challenged him to go his entire road trip without getting off. It was a mutual deal, the same applying for you too, but on day nine you found yourself caving.

Pierre was scheduled to come back tomorrow, if you could last only twelve more hours you would make it, but you just couldn’t. You had been keyed up for days, and if his texts were any indication of how he was doing Pierre was feeling the same. You felt horrible, the guilt already washing over you, but it was too late. Your mind was made up as you laid yourself down on the bed, back resting heavy against the pillows.

What harm would it cause? Pierre would never know… right?

You were wearing one of his t-shirts, the hem resting on the middle of your thigh as you slipped your hand beneath it. You trailed it up to your torso before gently massaging your breast, your other hand outlining the lace of your panties.

You were already so worked up just from your wandering imagination so it didn’t take much to get a reaction out of you. Your fingertips ever so softly brushed against your covered clit, the moan you let out embarrassingly loud. Your shirt was now bunched up across your collarbone as you continued, your middle and pointer finger rubbing soft circles across your throbbing nub.

You could feel your wetness pooling through your panties, your breathing already hitching as you quickened your pace. You finally stopped teasing yourself, instead slipping your hand beneath the fabric, a loud sigh escaping your lips as you felt your bare wet pussy for the first time in what felt like months.

Your chest was heaving as you slid two fingers inside, curling perfectly against your g-spot with each motion. But before you could get any closer, you pulled them out and leaned onto your side, opening your nightstand drawer to grab the small bullet you used on nights like this alone.

With one simple click, you felt the steady hum of the vibrator against your palm, a soft fuck leaving your mouth as you pressed it against your clit. The sensation was overwhelming after getting yourself so close just seconds before.

So overwhelming that you didn’t hear the clicking of the front door opening.

Your back arched off the bed with a deafening moan, your toes curling as you felt your high approaching. You gently moved it back and forth against your swollen clit, the sounds in the room obscene as you got closer and closer. But just before you could let yourself fall off the edge, you were interrupted.

“Well, hello there.”

Your eyes flew open and legs clamped shut when you heard him. You scrambled to sit up, putting in your best effort to look like you hadn’t just been caught doing exactly what it looked like you were doing, even though you knew there was no point.

You pulled the shirt down over your body, backing yourself up to lean on the headboard, your head hanging down in shame. Pierre was standing in the doorway, still in his game-day suit, his tie undone and top buttons open.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he spoke, his voice stern.

“I- I’m sorry,” you stuttered, “I swear I didn’t before this, I just- I thought you were coming back tomorrow.”

Pierre stepped closer to you, throwing his suit jacket across the room, not even caring that it was now in a wrinkling pile on the floor. The room smelled like sex, the scent of your pussy filling the air as he stood over your body still struggling to catch its breath.

“We decided to leave right after the game instead. Thought I would surprise you but clearly you’re already busy.”

“Luc…” you whispered, “I didn’t- I couldn’t help it.”

“Oh babygirl, you’re going to have to do better than that and you know it,” he chuckled, his gaze turning towards the bullet resting against your thigh.

You swallowed heavily as he stared down at you, the lust behind his usually soft blue eyes making you timid.

“What’s this, hmm?” he questioned as he ran the smooth material between his rough fingers.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again.

Pierre didn’t respond to your desperate apology, rather he switched it on, smirking as he felt the vibrations run through his hand.

“Lay down,” he ordered.

You gulped again, hesitant to do what he said because you knew exactly what you were in for.

“I said lay down,” Pierre repeated, this time harshly pushing your knees open causing you to fall back.

You gasped at the sudden movement, the cool air hitting your hot core making your body shutter.

“Oh, babygirl,” he groaned as he took you in. Your pussy was glistening in the dim light, clearly swollen from what you had already done. Your nipples peaked beneath the soft material of his t-shirt, the Blue Jackets logo resting just above your left breast. Your cheeks were bright red and your hair was sticky with sweat against your forehead.

Without waiting another second, Pierre pressed the humming vibrator against your inner thigh, slowly dragging it closer to where you needed him.

“Luc,” you wined, desperately wishing he would give you something, anything.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he spoke, “I don’t think you're in the position to be making requests, do you?”

You resentfully shook your head, mumbling, “No.”

“Sorry what was that?” he continued, moving the vibrator to your other thigh making your legs tense up in shock.

“No… daddy.”

Pierre smiled above you, finally deciding you deserved some relief. He removed the vibrator from your leg, pressing it right against your throbbing clit. The cry you let out was music to his ears, his suit pants already growing tighter.

“Fuck, fuck,” you moaned, the sensation overwhelming your body as he increased the speed with a click.

“Feel good, princess?” He questioned.

You frantically nodded, your legs started to shake beneath his touch.

“You really want to cum don’t you?”

“Please, daddy-” you choked out, “Please.”

“Too bad,” he growled, pulling the bullet off you.

You whined immediately at the loss of contact, feeling your high slip away and out of your grasp. Pierre stood up and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders as he watched you writhe below him.

“All those nights I was alone and thinking about you I never did anything about it,” he mumbled, “You think that was easy?”

He paused waiting for your response, waiting for you to lift your head from where it was buried in the pillow. He emphasized his question with a hard squeeze on your hip earning a squeal from you.

“You think I enjoyed ignoring my cock, babygirl, hmm?

“No,” you whispered, your breath hitching as he kissed up your thighs.

“No, but we made a promise, remember?”

“Yes,” you moaned, squirming as his beard tickled your skin, “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah?” Pierre spoke into your skin, just inches away from your pulsing pussy.

You nodded, your head falling back as he placed a gentle kiss on your clit before you heard the strum of the vibrator again.

“Show me how sorry you are.”

After mere seconds he had you right on the edge again, his thick fingers guiding the bullet over your clit in soft circles. Your legs began to shake and your hands had a death grip on the sheets.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, “Fuck daddy, please, please.”

But you should have known better because as soon as Pierre recognized that you were right there, he pulled away once more.

“I don’t think you deserve it,” he deadpanned as you stirred in frustration, your hands tangling in your hair as the tingling between your legs burned.

You were so desperate you could feel tears pricking your eyes, your overwhelming need to release the only thought on your mind. Pierre rubbed gentle circles onto the crevice of your hips, his mouth laying wet, hot kisses across your chest and neck while he waited for your body to come down.

“Luc, please,” you whimpered, your voice rough with desperation, “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“You gonna be a good girl for daddy, hmm?” he asked, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear, your eyes fluttering shut at his suddenly soft touch.

“I promise,” you whispered, looking up at him with your most innocent eyes, “Please.”

Pierre slid down your body, this time running his rough pointer finger through your soaking folds before turning the vibrator on. You sighed loudly as he teased your entrance with it, your clit pulsating in anticipation before he finally connected them again.

“Fuck,” you cried out, your legs wrapping around his broad back while he lay face to face with your pussy watching it flutter in pleasure.

“Luc, I can’t…” you whined knowing you couldn’t last any longer as you shook beneath him.

“Go ahead, babygirl,” Pierre murmured, “Cum for me, be a good girl for me.”

The relief you felt was astronomical as one of the most intense orgasms you had ever had exploded within you. Your back arched off the mattress and one of your hands reached for his still-damp curls, the other digging into the sheets like your life depended on it. His name fell from your lips like a chant, his cocky smirk only growing as he pushed the vibrator into you even harder.

“Fuck, Luc, I-” you screamed, the realization that he had no intention of letting up anytime soon hitting you.

Your body continued to tremble as your second high ran through your body, the pleasure becoming too much to handle. You moved one hand down to try and push his away, but your strength didn’t even compare to his.

“No, no babygirl. Now that I let you cum I’m not gonna let you fucking stop,” he growled, not moving or lessening his pressure one bit.

Your body shook like it never had before, the buzz between your legs so strong it was numbing. You felt terrible for your poor neighbors, but there was no way you were able to control the obscene noises spewing from your lips.

“Hold it,” you heard, his words snapping you out of the trance you were stuck in.

“I can’t- daddy, please,” you begged.

“Hold it,” he repeated, this time grabbing your wrist and guiding it down to your pussy.

You gave into his order, taking the vibrator between your fingers as he pulled back.

“Don’t even think about it moving it.”

Your eyes rolled back as you felt another high overcoming your body, more tears burning from behind your irises. You heard Pierre’s belt clink, followed by him kicking his suit pants off.

Your pussy clenched around nothing in anticipation, waiting for him to come back as you laid spread out in front of him, quivering as your body wracked with pleasure.

“Fuck, so pretty, baby. Just for me,” Pierre groaned as he lined up with your entrance, running his cock through your folds.

You both audible sighed when he pushed into you, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he bottomed out. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust before he began snapping his hips against yours, quickly finding a relentless pace.

Pierre knew he wasn’t going to last long with the way you were fluttering around him already, the constant purr of the vibrator forcing you over the edge endlessly.

“Shit, babygirl,” he growled, his grip on your hips tightening, without a doubt leaving an impression you would feel and see for days to come.

One of your hands snaked around his back, your nails digging into his shoulder blade as he hit your g-spot perfectly. You wanted nothing more than to drop the bullet and tangle your other hand in his hair, but you didn’t dare risk upsetting him even more. You were already so spent, you didn’t know how much more of his wrath you could take.

You knew Pierre was close with the way his hips were stuttering and his cock was twitching inside you.

“Please,” you moaned, “Fill me up, daddy,” you encouraged, rubbing the vibrator harder side to side against your clit as you chased your… well you honestly couldn’t remember what number it would be.

That was all Pierre needed to hear before he was spilling into you, the sudden warmth pushing you into your last orgasm of the night. A string of swears fell from his mouth before he collapsed on top of you, his arms caging you in while his head was tucked beside yours.

You struggled to find the off button, moaning a sigh of relief as the buzzing finally started to subside.

Pierre didn't move, rather he stayed inside of you for several minutes as you both came down. You ran your hands through his waves, a soft smile gracing your face as you heard him hum in content, nuzzling his face even deeper into the crook of your neck.

Your body was so physically and mentally drained that you started to doze off just like that, only coming back to consciousness when Pierre spoke.

“Hi,” he whispered, smiling as he lifted his head to meet your gaze.

“Hi,” you laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his pink lips.

Pierre melted against your mouth, one of his large hands cupping your face as he showed you just how badly he missed you.

“You good?” He pulled back and asked, running his thumb across your flushed cheek.

Pierre knew how to be rough, but he also knew just how to take care of you after. No matter how filthy things got, he was your soft, cuddly boy the second it was over.

“I’m great,” you replied, smirking as he chuckled at your words.

Pierre pressed a kiss to your forehead before he pushed himself up on his forearms and finally pulled out, shushing you when you winced at the abrupt loss.

“Shhh, you’re okay, babygirl,” he cooed, stroking up and down your thigh.

Your body was so weak after everything, still shivering as he touched you, even in such an innocent manner.

Pierre laid on his side beside you, pulling you into his chest while resting one of his heavy arms against your torso.

“So when did you get this?” he asked, gesturing to the vibrator.

Your cheeks blushed in embarrassment and you turned your body to hide your face in his shoulder. You never had any intentions of showing it to Pierre, but of course, he found out anyways.

“Um, I- I don’t know, a little bit ago?”

“Don’t be shy, pretty girl,” he laughed, “I plan on making good use of it.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at his words, “As if you haven’t already.”

“As if you didn’t enjoy it,” he jested, throwing you a wink when you rolled your eyes at him, “Bath or shower?”

“Do you think I can stand in the shower right now?”

“Bath it is,” Pierre snickered, lifting you from your spot in the mattress, the imprint of your tired body leaving an impression. He carried you into the bathroom bridal style, peppering your face with kisses in between giggles before starting the water.

It was good to have your boy home.

[plainlo-inthemorning]

A little written-in-the-middle-of-the-night Loki fic snippet that just grew another leg. TVA Loki + Lokane. Rating T.

(First part is here)

Shine a Light, part II

The tempad feels hot and slippery in his palm as he stalks down the hallway, quickly putting distance between himself and the hunter he left unconscious amidst overturned chairs and tables in the canteen.

The mess had already been there, leftovers from workers rushing panicked to man their stations. He had simply added one more touch.

Tiny droplets of sweat bead his brow and blood has started seeping though the tear in his crumbled shirt.

The fabric is clinging wetly to his bicep, but in the mayhem unfolding around him, nobody gives him a second glance.

For the first time, he is thankful at least to be wearing the anonymous uniform dictated by the oppressors.

He reaches the kill me kind of room again and shuts the door behind him.

You were meant to cause suffering and death.

You’re a cosmic mistake.

You were meant to die at the hands of the mad titan.

Lies.

All lies.

Still projected on the wall is the paused image of a lost memory of his unfulfilled fate.

He sees himself, Thor and her on the barren planet with the black soil. The man he never became is lying on the ground, Thor cradling him.

She watches them both in shock.

It resonates in his bones. He has to go there.

He has to reach his brother at this precise, excruciatingly rare moment of heroism. His act of heroism.

Before the scheming and deceit poison their bond once more in an endless loop of disappointment.

In this moment, all is forgiven. Thor will listen and help. A different path will branch.

And he has to go to her.

It is ludicrous, this riddle, yet the truth of it presses hard on his chest.

On the grainy roll of film, he saved her life and her eyes bore into his with such intensity, his acute need still reverberates like an echo between the walls of the kill me kind of room.

The smell of lilacs lingers.

What will happen when he faces his own self on the timeline, he can’t imagine. Also, he gives it little thought at this late stage with universal logic already suspended as it is. Hopefully he can reason with the man he was meant to be.

He has had quite enough of being his own past, present and future selves’ worst enemy.

And so he pushes the buttons on the tempad.

//

Something is very wrong.

The sky is too blue, the distant sound of waves lapping calmly at a shore is misplaced.

He has emerged from the door onto a quiet gravel road lined with tall grass and low pines. A single, white wooden house stands to his left, surrounded by a lawn dotted with wildflowers. The sun is warm on his back.

This is Midgard, he is sure of it.

How could he shoot past his destination so spectacularly?

He is about to scroll down the list of numbers and names on the tiny screen of the tempad when he notices a man approaching. Old, walking leisurely with a round, short-legged dog much the same white color as the mortal’s own wispy hair.

The latter starts a little when he spots Loki.

And then he does the most unexpected thing and speaks his name.

Loki’s name.

He almost drops the tempad (no! Not again) and the old one grins good-naturedly. “Hold on to your fancy phone there. Far away, were we?”

Loki only just about stops himself from shaking the man by his shoulders. His fists clench uncontrollably.

“What year is this?! How do you know my name?”

His voice sounds shrill, feverish, and unsurprisingly the eyes in the lined face before him go wide with puzzlement and … something else.

“Loki, what on Earth? Are you quite alright?”

Shock washing over him, Loki staggers back. H-how?

But the man is closing the gap between them, oozing concern. “Have you - are you drunk?” he asks incredulously.

He reaches out.

What is happening?

Loki shies away from the touch, his mind spinning.

Forcibly gathering his composure, he straightens and wills his words to come out steady. “No, I’m okay. Apologies. A bad joke”.

He smiles reassuringly. It takes more effort than parting an ocean.

The dog is sniffing insistently at his ankles.

The man looks him over with suspicion but the worry is subsiding. “Okay, then… no harm, no foul. You know, sometimes these peculiar ‘jokes’ of yours can make a neighbor all kinds of slightly worried”.

Neighbor?

“Most understandably, won’t happen again. Sorry to have bothered you”. Loki cuts him off smoothly. “Have a nice day”. He nods and turns before hysteria can creep into his voice.

“In case you need it for your punchline, the year is 2016”, the man calls over his shoulder as he shuffles away, pulling the reluctant dog after him.

Loki’s blood runs cold. 2016. Oh, this is so wrong. Three years wrong.

Did he hit another button at the last minute? He had been clutching the tempad so hard the edges cut into his fingers.

He curses his own impatience. Tech savvy indeed.

Holding up the blasted piece of TVA wizardry, he tries to enter a new series of numbers when his name rings out again.

And again, he almost jumps. But this time, his heart stays in his throat.

//

“Loki? What are you doing out here? I’ve been looking all over for you”.

Her voice reaches him from the porch of the white house. She is skipping lightly down the steps, the screen doors left open behind her. Music drifts into the garden from somewhere inside.

She is crossing the lawn. He is no longer breathing.

Her long auburn hair is tied back in a ponytail, and she is wearing a light blue summer dress. Her feet are bare.

Absurdly, he notes that she looks more tanned than the last time he saw her through the visor of the destroyer in the desert. A year and a lifetime ago. To him.

His grip on whatever reality he’s been clinging to since New York is seriously faltering.

She is beaming. He cannot move a muscle.

She comes all the way up to him and without pause wraps her slender arms around his neck. He can feel the warmth of her body through his shirt, smell the perfume of her skin. She smells of … -

“Where did you go, handsome?” She smiles playfully.

“Pepper called earlier to say that she actually got Tony out of the door on time, if you can believe it, so they’ll be here any minute. And her and I agreed that you two hotheads are going to play nice tonight, okay?”

She is teasing him but he hardly understands the words she’s saying. It makes no sense.

And then, before he can begin to form a response, she stands on tiptoes and kisses him and the world falls away.

Reflexively, he puts his arms around her, drawing her close to him. She moans happily. He leans into the kiss, not knowing what he’s doing other than that he never wants to stop.

Her mouth is soft and warm and new and familiar all at the same time, and the way her fingers curl in his hair sends electricity shooting down his spine.

It should be all anguish and tragic confusion, like before in the castle beyond time, but it is not.

It feels more right that anything he can remember since before his fall from the Bifrost, more real and yet more magical than his recent journeys into mystery.

Then it’s over all too soon and she draws away.

His arms are suddenly much too empty and he almost reaches for her again, craving her touch.

For a fleeting heartbeat, his soul had no longer felt torn apart to the point of forgetting he’d ever been whole.

The chaos had crumbled in on itself like a bad dream.

He is surprised he still knows what peace of mind feels like after what has happened to him since arriving at the TVA.

But now she looks at him with alarm in those beautiful brown eyes and he is crudely reminded that he is an intruder in her reality.

What she thought she saw, she clearly no longer recognizes.

It takes him all of three stupidly long seconds to remember that she said his name. That he’s wearing his own face and not a disguise.

That she knew him immediately, just like the old man.

She kissed him.

Too many impossible possibilities and the thunderous sound of his own heartbeat (surely she can hear it too) blur his vision.

He’s only vaguely aware that he is stepping towards her, trying to say something without the faintest idea of what’s going to come out of his mouth.

If it’ll even be words.

Her eyes dart over his clothes, his face.

“Loki, what - Why are you dressed like that? Have you been gone? Is that … blood?”

She retreats further, fear building.

“Jane, I-“

Her name rolls of his tongue with a sweet-tasting intimacy like he has said it a thousand times before.

But he doesn’t get to dwell on this, nor gather his thoughts to say anything else before something abruptly lifts him off the ground and hurls his body across the road.

“How dare you touch her, beast?!”

Immediately as his back connects with the rough gravel, someone is there, a knee pushing him down, fingers closing around his throat. A sharp object presses against his chin.

There is a dangerous, unhinged growl as his attacker breathes hotly in his ear. “You will die for this!”

The man is strong and somehow blocking Loki’s own magic, but he still manages to twist his head -

And looks right up into his own eyes, nearly black with rage.

//

“Speak! What are you??”

The man with a face exactly like his presses the tip of his blade closer to Loki’s left eye. “You will show yourself right now or -“

Gathering his magic tightly around him (focus!), Loki pushes back, hard.

With a surge of energy, their bodies are separated, and the other version of him lands heavily in the middle of the road some meters away.

Both of them are on their feet with the fluid movements of two panthers ready to pounce, the other now in full armor.

He has to leave, right now, even if means leaving her which is a catastrophe that might either kill him or make him try to kill his other self if he stays here another minute.

This timeline is clearly not his own.

It cannot be.

Arm outstretched to ward off his furious twin with a shield of magic, he tries to work the tempad with one hand.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

A booming voice above their heads.

“You know, when Jane pressed the panic button just now, I thought we had an actual emergency. Not that you were preparing a little dinner show for us, Reindeer Games. Gotta be honest though, this doppelgänger stunt was never my favorite -“

“Stark!”

The variant - for he must be a variant - angrily interrupts the man in the metal suit hovering in the air.

Of course, Loki remembers him all too clearly.

What has it been, less than a week since he threw him, or a version of him, out the window of the glass tower?

“This is not my creation”, the variant hisses with venom dripping from every word. “I caught him assaulting Jane. Kissing her”.

“What?!”

Stark focuses all his attention (and one of his iron fists) on Loki. A metallic humming rises steadily from inside the suit.

“A man on a suicide mission then. Boy, did you smooch the wrong wizard’s baby-mama. He may look all domesticated and cute now, but I assure you he’s still all kinds of crazy. In fact-”.

“Hey!”

“What?”

“I know it’s asking a lot, of you in particular, Stark, but could we possibly save the personal insults till we have dealt with this right here?”

Wait, just wait.

Damn it, he can’t tap in the destination on the tempad without looking at it.

Green smoke is swirling around the hands of his other self. He knows what’s coming.

“This is your last warning, devil! I will not have you hiding behind my face as I -“

“This is my face! I’m you, you fool! Bigger things are at large here and-“ Loki falters, his silver tongue failing once more with rising predictability within what seems a disconcertingly short period of time.

Although he honestly can’t tell anymore.

“Please, take a minute -“

He can’t help but shout, sounding hopelessly desperate.

In another life, he might have felt humiliated, but letting pride dictate his emotions is no longer a luxury he can afford to indulge.

Still, the silence that follows his outburst is not nearly as long as he needs it to be.

The variant stares blankly at him, mouth slightly ajar, but Stark recovers easily, his voice now icy.

“Yeah, dude, that one might have worked better if you’d put on a clean shirt. Time to fess up real quick or we’ll have to-“

Drawing what might become his last breath, Loki looks away and down at the tempad. He presses the button. No more time to double check.

“What the?!”

Both Stark and the variant visibly flinch as the door appears.

He quickly makes for it. “I - I’m sorry. Truly, I am”. He looks to their stunned faces before turning to his exit.

Out of the corner of his eye, he registers the variant move (he has to be a variant). His mouth twists in an ugly snarl and two familiar daggers are appearing by his sides.

Before the door snaps completely shut, Loki sees Jane run up to the man and grab his arm.

“Love, no, don’t!”

He sees the slight bump under her dress that he didn’t notice before.

And then the scene disappears and he’s gone.

Part III

[everybodyscupoftea]

april fools

pike jj x reader ft. cody and tyler

the boys do their best to prank you

happy april fools folks. consider this my prank :)

warnings: cursing, not edited, video game violence (?)

You knew it was going to be a weird one when you woke up after JJ the morning of April 1. Admittedly you forgot, barely keeping up with the dates anymore with your senior year winding down, so when you checked your phone and saw a text from your sister about a pregnancy scare, you figured it out.

Before getting out of bed, you sent back, a pregnancy scare before 9 a.m.? amateur hour

JJ was moving around in the kitchen, so you sat up, shivering when the blanket was gone and the AC hit your bare arms. You walked to the closet for a sweatshirt and froze when the door opened, all your clothes gone.

Blinking a few times as if they’d appear, your jaw dropped. Obviously JJ had done it, but how long had he been awake to completely clear it out without you waking up? Where the hell had he put it all?

“JJ,” you called out.

All movement in the kitchen stopped as he yelled back, “What’s up?”

“Where are my clothes?”

It sounded like he was fighting a smile, “What?”

“My clothes, where did you put them?”

Your lips twitched, fighting a smile, when he appeared in the doorway, visibly pleased with himself. He played innocent, “Whatever do you mean?”

“All of my clothes are gone.”

JJ hummed, “You sure?”

Stepping aside, you dramatically waved your arm at the empty closet to get his attention, “I’m positive.”

“Emperor’s new clothes type beat,” he replied, ignoring the empty closet completely as he turned on his heel and went back to the kitchen. Before he was fully out of your vision, he called over his shoulder, “Hungry?”

You sighed, resigning yourself to your fate, “Yeah, I could go for food.”

To your surprise, he actually cooked for the two of you, sliding a steaming mug of coffee across the counter before he went back to whatever he’d been doing when you interrupted him. After a few seconds, you walked away and grabbed one of the blankets draped over the couch to wrap around yourself to block out the strong AC blowing through the living room.

“Cold?” JJ asked when he looked back at you.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, “I wanted a sweatshirt.”

“I’m sure there’s one in your closet.”

You snorted, “You are so lame. This prank is so dumb.”

“Not a prank. Why would I prank you?”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, “I’ll get you back, Maybank.”

“I just don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered, passing a plate of eggs and toast to you. 

The two of you ate mostly in silence, your head leaning on his shoulder, when he sat down on the stool next to yours. It was comfortable, and you felt your eyes shutting again, not originally planning to wake up as early as you did. 

“Tired?” he asked quietly.

You hummed, gripping onto his shirt after another lazy bite, “Little bit.”

“Why’d you get up?”

“Thought it was later than it was ‘cause you were gone.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“S’okay.”

“Wanna take a nap?” he asked, shifting slightly to make his shoulder more accessible to you.

You exhaled heavily, “Nah, I should wake up, I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

He reached across his body to tap your nose gently, “We could get dressed and go for a walk.”

Thinking for a few seconds, you nodded, “Yeah, let’s do that. I need clothes though.”

“I’ll grab you some,” he reassured.

You grinned victoriously as he walked over to your roommate’s closed door. She’d stayed the night at her boyfriend’s and had clearly given him a key to her room to store your clothes in for the day.

“You gave that up much quicker than I thought,” you gloated.

“Yeah, well, it was a pretty dumb prank.”

With a head shake, you rested your chin in your hand, “No, I liked it. It was very you.”

He smiled, “I knew you’d like it. Cody said you wouldn’t, but I knew.”

“I’d hope you know me better.”

“I’m going to text him and tell him you said that.”

You snorted and shook your head, amused at his antics. He was ridiculous, but you loved him.

-

Cody texted you at 1:30 exactly that he was there to pick you up, and you grabbed your booksack before heading down to his car. The two of you had made plans to work on homework at the library together.

He was parked next to your car, right outside the entrance to your building, and you smiled, tugging the passenger door open, only to pause when Tyler was sitting in the driver’s seat, not Cody.

“Um, hey,” you greeted, confused, and looked down at your phone to double check that it had, in fact, been Cody that texted you.

“What’s up,” Tyler returned, turning the music down slightly as you hesitantly got in the car, buckling up.

He drove toward the library without explanation, so you finally asked, “So, where’s Cody?”

“Who?”

“Okay,” you trailed off, more confused, “why aren’t you driving your car?”

Tyler shrugged, “Didn’t feel like it.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you spoke slowly, trying to work it out, “Did we have plans today?”

“Library to study,” Tyler answered as you thought he would, so you checked your phone again, scrolling through you and Cody’s texts.

“Yeah, I made those plans with Cody.”

“No you didn’t. I don’t even know who that is,” he rebutted, unconcerned.

“I have the text right here.”

Tyler snorted, “It’s easy to fake texts.”

You knew what was going on, especially after JJ’s “prank” so you shrugged, leaning back into the seat, trying your best to figure it out. After a few minutes of thinking, you sighed, “Okay, I don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“What’s the point of this one? You aren’t pretending to be Cody, so what’s the point?”

“The point of what? Aren’t we going to study? Plus, I don’t even know a Cody, and I certainly don’t want to pretend to be one.”

“I don’t,” you rubbed your forehead, “okay.”

He found a parking spot near the library entrance and got out, grabbing his booksack from the back seat, all while you sat still, mind still whirling. Tyler raised his eyebrows, “You coming? I wanna fit a bunch in before we leave for dinner.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re getting burritos,” Tyler answered, sounding excited. It confused you again, Cody being the bigger burrito fan out of the two of them.

You relented, “Okay, sounds great.”

The library was fairly empty, and he found an empty study room with a whiteboard for the two of you to sit. He took immediate control of the markers and started working through something in one of his programming classes.

He wrote silently, the only sounds in the room were your typing and his squeaking when he pressed a little too hard on the marker. It was comforting, and you fell into the reading you were doing for your sales class.

It wasn’t until your stomach started to growl that you stopped, slamming your laptop shut while your eyes swam a bit from all the reading you’d done. Tyler capped his marker and spun around to look at you.

“Hungry?”

“Very.”

He nodded, “Same, let’s go get food.”

You were packing up before he finished talking, and Tyler laughed. He took his time, messing with you, and you sighed, “Ty, can you please go faster?”

“Who?”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, “are you actually pretending to be Cody?”

“I’m not.”

“Okay, then who are you?”

“JJ’s my name,” he answered confidently.

“Right,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “now I’m really confused.”

“Confused about what?”

“I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“We’re getting burritos,” he answered, tone in his words that sounded very close to an unspoken ‘duh’ and you bristled at his defensiveness, far too tired to figure it out what the hell he was doing.

“The three of you are being weird.”

Tyler squinted at you, confused, and you rolled your eyes. If anything you could get a free burrito out of it which would absolutely make up for all the confusion they were putting you through that day.

-

Tyler brought you to the house instead of back to your apartment, and you shrugged, unbothered. JJ’s car was there, so you could just go chill in his room if nothing else. When you got inside, the smell of chocolate smacked you in the face, and you knew Cody had been baking.

You followed as Tyler beelined to the kitchen, an eager look on his face. Cody was standing there, apron wrapped around his waist with a closed container in front of him, likely containing the dessert you were smelling.

He waved, “Hey guys! Want a brownie?”

“God yes,” Tyler groaned.

Cody’s lips twitched and you steeled yourself for disappointment, already reading the look in his eyes. He waved you over and opened the container slightly for both of you to reach in and take one. 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, maybe for him to have altered the taste, but you weren’t expecting to feel nothing. Confused, you reached around until you hit the bottom of the container, feeling something sliding under your fingers.

“What the hell?” Tyler muttered, clearly feeling what you were.

Cody was shaking, trying to hold in his laughter as you took hold of whatever it was and pulled your hand out. You groaned when you looked at the paper. Tyler looked over and took in the cut out of the letter E, sloppily colored brown in colored pencil.

“I hate you so goddamn much,” Tyler pouted.

“Do you have some in the oven or something?” you asked, not giving up hope just yet.

He smirked, “You are smelling a candle my friends.”

“Fuck you,” Tyler muttered, stomping off to his room.

You laughed at his response and reached out to knock Cody’s shoulder, “That’s the best one today, bud.”

“Yes!” he cheered, “I knew I could do it!”

His words reminded you of JJ’s from earlier that day, and you rolled your eyes, realizing what they’d done.

“Did the three of you really have a competition to see who could prank me best?”

Cody nodded eagerly, “We absolutely did, and you just won me $100.” 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, “I hate you all. I’ve been so confused all day.”

“I told them, you just gotta keep it simple,” he informed you.

You bit your lip, “I won’t ask for a cut of your winnings if you actually make me brownies.”

“Oh, deal,” he responded, immediately jumping into action.

With a smile, you pinched his cheek, “Thanks, bestie. I’m going to find JJ, text me when they’re done.”

-

JJ was sitting at the foot of his bed, playing a video game, when you walked into his room. He smiled and tilted his head up, asking for a kiss, and you gave him one, dropping down next to him afterward.

“Hey,” he whispered, setting his controller down.

“Hey,” you answered, “I think you owe Cody $50.”

His face dropped, “God damnit.”

“Sorry, bud.”

“It’s alright,” he sighed, “his prank was pretty good. He got me too.”

“I’ll give you one of my consolation brownies.”

JJ perked up immediately as the round of his game finished, “Fuck yes.”

Before you could respond, he turned away, waiting for the next one to start, and you settled down next to him, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees to watch.

“What is this?”

“Valorant.”

“You don’t play this one very often.”

He bit his lip, concentrating, and answered distractedly, “Yeah, I just started like two months ago.”

When he died, he sighed, grip tightening around the controller in frustration, and you squeezed his shoulder, “Looks complicated.”

“It’s not so bad,” he admitted, “but I’m playing a different character than usual.”

“You playing with randoms?”

“Nah, some of the brothers,” JJ told you before perking up, “wait, do you wanna prank them?”

Leaning back, you weren’t sure what the fuck he was suggesting, “Um, maybe?”

“Play in my place for the rest of the game. I’m about to de-rank anyway because they suck.”

“Show me,” you answered, actually excited. He muted and explained the controls and the role to you while playing through a round to show you. As soon as it ended, another team loss, he passed over his headset and the controller.

“Should I unmute?” you asked him as the buy period ended.

“Up to you,” he answered, almost getting drowned out by one of the brothers barking orders. You bit your lip and decided to try a round on mute first before doing anything else. It went better than you thought, you even managed to get a kill, and JJ was impressed.

“Okay, definitely unmute and just pretend like nothing is different.”

You laughed and hit the button on his discord voice chat, unmuting yourself. One of the brothers asked JJ a question, and you answered, buying him the gun he asked for. The boys went silent, and you didn’t say anything else as the round started.

“Right,” one of them trailed off, “I’m going A. Maybank go B like last time, it worked.”

You played another round, winning again, and they started to get more excited. No one asked what was going on, and they kept calling you Maybank, screaming when they finally managed to tie it up at 10. 

JJ was cheering too, clutching onto your thigh tightly as you leaned forward, focused, tongue sticking out slightly. It started to feel more natural, you getting the hang of it, and you even managed to win a 1v1, putting your team up 11-10.

“Oh my fuck, I might not de-rank,” JJ hissed, voice cracking in his excitement.

“Shush,” you whispered back, “I’m focusing.”

“Right,” he backed away, hands up, “sorry, carry on.”

The next few rounds were intense, going back and forth until you finally clutched it out, killing the last two guys on the other team to finally win the game.

“YES!” one of the guys screamed into his headset, “Fucking awesome, Maybank...or whoever you are!”

“Holy shit!” JJ yelped next to you, yanking you into a tight hug. You laughed, tossing the remote to the side and left the Discord call so he could kiss you. When he pulled away, he beamed, “Wow, you’re so much cooler than me.”

“I know,” you teased, squeezing his shoulder.

“Now that was the best prank,” he said, “I’m giving you $50 for that.”

“No need, just let me know when you’re about to de-rank again and I’ll save your ass.”

JJ laughed, head tossed back, “Will do, sweetheart. Will do.”

[leejungchans]

— unexpected.

🆕 ask juliet anything!! | juliet’s masterlist

word count: 2.1k

warning(s): mentions of self-doubt, insecurities and intrusive thoughts; someone says some pretty harsh words to juliet here but nothing extreme

disclaimer: please keep in mind that the trainer mentioned in this is a completely fictional character hence why his name is never mentioned!!

set in june 2019; a few days after ateez’s first win for wave

summary: in which the boys help juliet when she gets a message from someone who she never expected, nor wants, to see again.

a/n: putting juliet in a bit of Pain™️ here 😔 as always, you are always welcome to leave feedback or chat with me!! 💕💕

As Seonghwa clears away the dishes after dinner, he notices Juliet curled up on the sofa with her phone in hand. Normally, he wouldn’t think much of it, given the other members are doing the same as they lounge around the living room. But one look at the maknae’s grave expression tells him that something is wrong.

Jongho, who’s been helping Seonghwa take the plates into the kitchen, catches him staring and follows his gaze. The two silently watch as Juliet types something on her phone before furiously tapping on the screen to delete whatever she wrote with a frustrated sigh, her long acrylic nails creating a crisp tapping noise. This draws the attention of the other six boys as they all turn to look at her with concern, though she doesn’t seem to notice from being so focused on her phone.

“Minyoungie, is everything okay?” Hongjoong finally asks, sitting up from his spot on the ground.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m fine, don’t worry,” she reassures with a stiff smile, but it’s evident that something is clearly bothering her.

The leader gets up to sit next to her on the couch. “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want some time to yourself first?”

Juliet contemplates his question for a few seconds before speaking again. “It’s nothing serious, I guess,” she admits, “but one of my former trainers at SM messaged me just before dinner asking me to meet up with him, and I don’t know how to respond.”

“Oh,” Hongjoong says. The mention of her former company causes the others to pay full attention to their conversation, knowing how unpleasant her experiences with a few of her former trainers were though she never talked about such incidents in detail. “Do you want to, though?”

“No,” Juliet responds immediately, expression turning cold. “Not now, probably not ever.”

“What happened with him?” Wooyoung asks before quickly adding, “you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”

Juliet sighs, stuffing her phone into the pocket of her hoodie before hugging her knees to her chest. “No, no. I think it’s about time I told you guys what happened exactly, I guess I never did because it felt like there was never a right time to bring him up, and also because it feels stupid to talk about it when I haven’t seen him in years, and have no intention of changing that.”

Wooyoung pats her knee comfortingly. “Tell us however much you’re okay with,” he says with a gentle smile, “you don’t have to go into full detail if you don’t want to.”

Juliet pants heavily when the music stops, crouching down to catch her breath desperately while cursing the horrible cold she’s been dealing with for the past few days.

She just knows everyone noticed how her movements have gotten more sluggish with every time they go over the dance, and the humiliation sears through her body like a raging fire.

Someone—she can’t see who and is too dizzy to even turn her head in that direction to check—comes up from behind to rub her back soothingly as her chest continues to heave from exhaustion.

“Five minutes,” the gruff voice of their dance trainer says, and the group of girls instantly scramble to where their water bottles are lined up neatly against the wall. “Baek Minyoung, not you.”

At the sound of her name, Juliet looks up to see the man crooking a finger, motioning for her to walk over to where he is in a secluded corner of the practice room. Shakily, she stands up as the other girls murmur quiet encouragements, though they quickly leave her side from the glare the man sends towards them.

Juliet knows that no amount of mental preparation is enough when it comes to this particular trainer, and it makes her heart sink deeper and deeper with every step she takes towards him.

Her head is bowed when he starts speaking, not daring to look into his flaring eyes. “What’s wrong with you?” the man wastes no time in asking accusingly. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice how terrible your dancing has gotten these few days? Do you think slackers have a place here? You looked like a dying slug out there.”

“No, Sir. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to slack off, I have a cold, which is why—”

“I’m not interested in hearing your excuses,” he cuts her off icily. “Do you know what idols do when they get sick? They keep pushing. And that’s the complete opposite of what you’re doing.”

“I understand. I’m really sorry. I will do better,” Juliet replies softly, voice barely above a whisper, hoping that he’ll let her off easy.

But today is not her lucky day. The sound of a dry chuckle sends chills down her spine.

“Do you want to know something?” She doesn’t. In fact, she dreads knowing. But something tells her she doesn’t have the luxury of choosing, so she continues to keep her head down and tries to zero in on her shoes to hold back her tears.

She can feel the weight of everyone’s stares on her back, and she wants nothing more than to disappear into thin air.

“There were discussions about adding you to Red Velvet along with Yeri. A few people thought you were too young, others saw potential in you,” the trainer sneers. “Personally, I don’t see any of that, and I’m glad that they ultimately did not debut you, because all I see is an ungrateful, lazy brat.”

Juliet bites down harder on the inside of her cheeks to keep the tears at bay, and it doesn’t take long for her to taste iron.

“You better go back there and get your crap sorted out. Because if I see you not being up to par with the others again, I will not hesitate to go to the higher-ups with this, then you can kiss your future in this industry goodbye. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Look at me when you answer.”

Juliet swears she’s never seen so much hatred and disdain in someone’s eyes until the moment their eyes meet. And it takes everything in her not to burst into tears as she repeats her response in a trembling voice.

The man scoffs, dismissing her with a wave of his hand as though batting away an insect before clapping his hands together to gain the others’ attention.

“Break’s over! Let’s hope some of you actually know what you’re doing this time,” he says scornfully, blissfully ignorant of the fact that every word he said feels like another stab to her heart.

When Juliet looks up at her reflection in the mirror, she barely recognised herself from how hollow and empty her gaze looks, a far cry from the girl who started her journey as a trainee with starry eyes and a fiery passion.

What had she become? is the last thought that comes to mind before the music starts again, and she can only hope that she can make it through the rest of the session without making a mistake or collapsing.

“So... that’s basically what happened,” Juliet chokes out, leaning her head back as she blinks back tears. To be honest, she had to give herself credit for getting through that story without crying, knowing that that incident in particular instilled a new, and much more profound, sense of fear and self-doubt within her. “You can now probably see why I don’t want to meet with him.”

San comes to sit on the armrest of the couch so he can wrap his arms around the girl. “I’m so sorry that happened, but I’m glad you’re not in that situation anymore.”

“Yeah, me too,” Juliet chuckles bitterly, still not meeting any of the boys’ eyes by looking down at her hands. “I don’t think I’ve been the same since then. I mean, not that it’s completely his fault because there were so many contributing factors, but... I’ve never looked at myself so negatively until that day... it suddenly felt like I was the only person who couldn’t see how utterly worthless I was... I don’t know.”

“But what did he text you?” Despite the anger he feels for this man for hurting her in such a way, Seonghwa still manages to stay levelheaded.

Juliet takes her phone out to reread the message. “He said he was watching M Countdown a few days ago and recognised me when we got our first win. He congratulated me and apologised for everything he said to me when I was at SM. Then he asked me if I wanted to meet with him for lunch.”

“But how did he get your number?” Yeosang wonders out loud, frowning deeply. “That’s kinda creepy.”

The girl shrugs. “Who knows? I don’t know what he’s up to now, but he likely still has contacts in the industry and asked around for my number.”

Wooyoung scoffs. “The fact that he only reached out now shows he’s probably not that apologetic, since he’s the one who implied he remembers everything he’s said to you. If he really felt guilty, he would’ve made use of those contacts of his to reach out to you to apologise a lot earlier.”

“That’s what I thought,” Juliet agrees. “The fact that he texted me right after our first win doesn’t seem like a coincidence.”

Mingi huffs. “Maybe just tell him to get lost or something. He’s not worth the time.”

“If she isn’t an idol, she can cuss him out all she wants. But if like you said,” Hongjoong muses thoughtfully, turning back to Juliet, “and he’s either still in the industry or has contacts, then you can’t be too rude to him in case he tries to use it against you to paint you as some villain. You know how some people are.”

The others nod defeatedly. He has a point.

“Then... what do we do? We can’t let her go meet with him,” San says, his arms subconsciously holding Juliet a little tighter protectively.

“Of course not,” the leader assures, “I think the best course of action is to thank him for congratulating you, accept his apology—even if you don’t really want to, it can just be for show—and politely decline his invitation because your schedule is full.”

Juliet hesitates. “But what if he says that I’m lying to get out of it?”

“I mean, it’s not really a lie,” Yunho points out. “Our tour is coming up soon and we’re gonna be busy practising for it, so it really is the truth that you don’t have the time to see him. Plus, you don’t owe him anything, who cares if he thinks you’re lying or not?”

Juliet nods slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard as she tries to think of a response, but her mind is so overwhelmed from the sudden message and the memories that nothing comes up.

“Do you want me to help you type it?” Seonghwa asks tenderly after a while of watching her struggle to formulate anything.

“Yes, please,” Juliet says immediately, visibly relieved as she pushes her phone into Seonghwa’s hand. The oldest member cocks his head to the side while he thinks before typing something down.

A few moments later, he hands her back her phone. “Here. If you’re okay with this, then you can send it to him.”

The other boys crowd around Juliet so they can all read the message Seonghwa typed out. When done, she looks up at Hongjoong for confirmation.

“It’s good, I think,” he says approvingly. “It’s short and concise, polite but not too friendly or curt so there’s no way it can be taken out of context in case it somehow gets leaked.”

Juliet nods, pressing on the “send” button with bated breath. The moment she sends the message, she feels as though a huge weight has been lifted off her, having spent the whole time during dinner silently stressing over how she should respond to the point where she could barely get down her food.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she says, leaping off the sofa to throw her arms around Seonghwa’s neck. “I wouldn’t know what to do if it wasn’t for you guys. I actually contemplated pretending he had the wrong number or even meeting with him once so he’d leave me alone after that,” she admits, “but I’m glad you stepped in before I did either of those things.”

“And I’m glad you told us about this so we could work through it together,” Seonghwa smiles, stroking the girl’s head. “You don’t have to struggle with these things alone.”

“Now that we took care of that jerk, I think we should order chicken to celebrate!”

Seonghwa looks at the younger boy in disbelief. “Yeosang, we literally just had dinner!”

Juliet laughs. “It’s okay, there’s always room for chicken! Besides, I’m paying this time as a thank you!”

“In that case, who am I to complain?”

a/n: that incident was a pretty huge turning point for juliet in terms of her mental health. she already doesn’t feel confident in herself as most trainees are, but to hear from someone directly that she didn’t get to debut because she was apparently all those horrible things made a lasting impact on her, and since then she’s felt even more horrible about herself :( but she’s gotten a lot better at managing those feelings now and of course she has the support of the boys!!

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 15: The Hunt

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, alcohol, mild domestic abuse, blood/gore, violence, body horror, death, weapons/guns

Summary: The Hunt is coming. Heisenberg turns to other vices to try to calm his nerves, causing more harm than good. While Juniper hears an ancient, primal song rise with the moon.

Feedback appreciated. 18+

This will be a heavy one folks

Two days till the hunt…

Heisenberg rose early, as he always did, pausing to look over Juniper’s form in the bed beside him. She was cuddled into the pillows on her belly, the blankets bungled up around the swell of her hip. Her pale skin almost glowing in the dewy morning light.

His pale eyes scanned over the dark blotches and bite marks that littered her skin: varying shades of purples painted across her in all the declarations of his claim. She never complained about the marks, or even the scar his teeth left in her collarbone.

But in comparison to the grizzly scar that decorated the upper half of her spine they probably paled in comparison. His focus fell on it. It was forever angry and hot, it seemed to shift a bit when her emotions got the better of her. He would sometimes catch her feeling it’s uppermost edge, green eyes downcast.

He gave a ragged sigh, all the worry and fear shifting around like bees in his belly. Miranda was planning something, and it involved Juniper. He couldn’t help the nagging thought that it was his fault, that his fondness of her made her into a target.

Frowning, he pulled the blankets up over her more completely. A shadow of a smile ghosted her lips as the warmth enveloped her.

~

Juniper woke, stretching out her sore muscles. She felt light, the day before seemingly going much better then she’d expected.

She went about the beginning of her day like normal, doing light cleaning and making the bed. It was when she reached the kitchen that things seemed off.

In the corner of the kitchen counter, where the bottles of liquor usually sat, was a glaringly empty space. Tapping her boot for a second Juniper looked around to truly find it missing. Worry worked its way into her now. She quickly finished up, dressing in workshop appropriate garb before heading for the elevator.

As soon as the elevator had descended one level the heavy throngs of the radio could be heard. It hissed and blared around the metal walls, almost drowning out the loud crashes father bellow. Juniper’s heart sank…these all the telltale signs of a more foul one of Heisenberg’s moods.

~

Heisenberg knocked back the bottle, the room humming and swirling with bits of metal.

Taking a ragged breath once the bottle left his lips he looked at the dented wall before him. Raising his free hand a metal pipe started it’s onslaught once more. The loud clatter of metal being thrown against metal entered the choir of chaos.

The radio and Sturm losing his goddamn mind below him adding to it. All the noise was almost enough to drown out his thoughts, the affront of his senses almost calming.

Suddenly the music stopped. Heisenberg spun around, finally hearing Strum in all his glory. The creature reved angrily beneath the floor.

Heisenberg stomped on the grate swearing, “Shut the fuck up!”

“He gets it from you,” came a cool voice.

Heisenberg straightened, seeing Juniper standing in the doorway. The swirling metal all fell, causing every piece to clatter loudly.

“What’s going on Karl?” Juniper asked, arms folded.

He looked a mess: face flushed, a slight sway in every movement, every muscle tight, and bleeding from several minor cuts.

Heisenberg gave her a feral smile, setting the bottle down. Juniper cocked her eyebrow at him.

“Liked all the fancy shit?” He pointed at her, “Had so much fun prancing around the castle, hm?”

“Does that matter?” She asked almost dumbfounded, “I thought dinner went pretty well.”

He frowned, looking down, his hat sent a dark shadow over most of his face. “Think it went pretty fucking well?” He turned away, leaning heavily back onto the table.

“What’s gotten you so worked up?” She asked, stepping closer.

“Think I can’t measure up to the supersized bitch!?” His muscles were tight, “I can’t give you all the nice shit she can! I can’t give you what you need!”

“Karl!” Juniper shouted.

“Shut up!” He rounded on her, eyes wild, “You would have been better staying there. You would have been safe!”

“Safe?!” Anger rose in her tone, “With her daughter’s drinking from me like a tap?!”

He took large steps toward her, the smell of alcohol hitting her like a wall. “You would have been safe. Safer then here with me.”

“Why are you saying this?” Juniper’s brows knotted together.

Heisenberg’s lips became a violent smile as he moved almost nervously, “Don’t you get it?”

When she didn’t respond he whipped around and threw a piece of scrap into the nearest wall.

“She’s going to use you!” His voice got quieter, “Maybe to punish me…I don’t fucking know.”

“Dimitrescu??” Juniper asked, deep confusion in her tone.

Giving a tight little chuckle he answered, “No.”

“Miranda?” She tried again.

As soon as the name left her lips Heisenberg rounded on her. His hand went to her throat, just tight enough to hold her and be a firm warning.

Her green eyes shifted from fear and shock as she tightened under his grasp.

His face came dangerously close to hers, “Don’t say her name. I don’t want to hear it.”

She tried to nod but he tightened his grip. She gasped, hands finding his wrists.

His pale eyes shifted over her face, emotions rippling through them.

“You’re fucked because of me.” His jaw went a bit slack. He saw confusion mix with the fear in her eyes, lips parting.

“I….I-I love..y-you.” She whimpered out in gasps. She saw his face shift before his hand tightened.

Black spots appeared in her vision as she clawed at his wrist.

“Why do you have to care so damn much?” He bared his teeth, “Why do you have to be so fucking important to me.” His voice almost sounded hurt.

His mind finally cleared of the red mist when he felt her grip on his wrist start to go slack. He quickly released her.

Juniper crumpled to the ground, grabbing her throat and sucking in needed air.

Heisenberg turned away, shame burning in him.

Juniper’s eyes pricked with tears as she looked up at him.

He put distance between them.

Heisenberg fell into a chair, rubbing his face into his hands.

“…I’m sorry.” He choked.

Silence stretched between them uncomfortably. Juniper rubbed her sore throat, shrinking a bit.

Looking up at the wall he started to speak again, “She wants you to join the hunt…wants to test you.”

Before she could asked he heavily sighed, “I don’t fucking know why…”

Juniper’s eyes narrowed, “So throwing a fit and choking me is going to help?!” She spat from the floor.

He didn’t answer. Huffing she stood, brushing grim from her skirt.

Walking towards the door, wanting distance she turned back to speak, “Karl…I’m not going to be completely safe as long as I’m in the village…no one is.” Her voice was tight, “And you need to stop blaming yourself for Miranda’s mistakes…your anger makes enough of your own.”

She left him alone with his thoughts once more.

~

It was late into the night before he entered the apartment. Darkness greeted him, he could just make out Juniper’s shape in the bed.

No food was left out for him and she hadn’t waited up at all. He didn’t blame her, their earlier interaction still leaving her understandingly raw.

She heard him enter, and the sound of his belts and charms being placed onto the table, his clothes to soon follow. The bed groaned as it accepted his weight. He moved softly and slowly in an attempt to not wake her. She felt him freeze when his eyes met with the reflective glow of her own.

“…Buttercup?”

“Don’t start.”

“I-I’m…sorry.”

She shifted, rolling onto her other side. He snaked under the blankets, moving up to press against her. She was rigid.

He nuzzled into her neck apologetically.

“I know you’re mad…but-“ he started, her voice cutting him off.

“Oh because you tried to choke me out for just trying to talk to you?” She hissed, “I’m so sorry my Lord.” She put emphasis on the word ‘Lord’.

He winced at her words.

“I didn’t mean it.” He tried to soothe. He softly wrapped a hand around her, finding her arms tightly crossed over her chest.

“I’ll just let you cut yourself up with scrap and wreak the whole factory next time.” She snorted, “Lesson learned.”

He wilted, burying his face into her. He knew he fucked up badly, but didn’t know how to fix it.

He pulled her closer, wrapping both arms around her. “I’m sorry.” He whispered again into her skin. She relaxed a bit, softening in his arms.

His cockiness got the better of him, a hand sliding down her stomach.

“Let me make it up to you?” He ventured, hand drifting lower.

“Not on your life.” Juniper hissed, grabbing his hand and pulling it back.

He smiled a bit, “That’s fair.”

“Mmm.” She hummed tightly.

~

One day till the hunt…

Heisenberg woke up early, as he always did. But the need to rise and get to work didn’t itch at him. The want to sooth the sting of the previous day at the forefront of his mind.

Juniper slept soundly, cuddling deeper into his side in her unconsciousness. Remorse clung deeply to his core. The shadow of bruising ghosted her neck. Grimacing, Heisenberg pulled her closer.

He stayed with her until she woke naturally, blinking up at him with sleep heavy eyes.

“Not in the shop today?” She yawned.

“Not today.” He murmured back.

 

She made a sound, falling back against him. They laid in silence for a long moment, Heisenberg thinking she’d fallen back asleep until she spoke again, “Want to talk about yesterday?”

He shifted.

Juniper looked up at him. She’d known he was dangerous from the beginning, probably the most dangerous thing in the whole area after Miranda. But their playfulness and affections dulled her apprehension of his volatile nature.

In truth he did very little in the way of hurting her. But the warning that he could, the power behind his hand, was enough to grant her pause.

He watched her eyes shifting over his face in thought. He brought a hand up to cup her face, heart sinking slightly as she flinched.

“I…I really am sorry about…about all that.” He admitted, “Though that probably means fuck all…”

Her lips were a thin line in thought. She couldn’t bring herself to hate him, even though his actions would cause her to be more wary when certain moods arose.

They were all monsters hidden in human flesh.

She closed her eyes, leaning into his hand. “Try to work on your anger…please?” Her voice came softly.

He gave a tight nod.

Taking a deep breath she changed the subject, “So the Hunt is tomorrow night?”

“Mhm”

“And Miranda wants me to go?”

“…yea.”

“So what do you do?”

He rubbed his face for a moment, “Gather the Lycans, get them all riled up and loud.” He swallowed, “It gives the villagers a bit of forewarning, less casualties.”

“They don’t know when the Hunt is coming?” Juniper asked worriedly.

“They know when it’s close.” He nodded, “Then when the moon is high I lead them to the edge and let em’ loose. Watch from a distance and call them back before sunrise.”

“So it’s mostly waiting?”

“Kind of.”

“Alright.”

He turned to look at her fully, “I want you to stay by my side, just wait it out ok?”

Juniper gave a nod, hearing the seriousness in his tone.

“Tomorrow I’ll have to leave to make some preparations, but I’ll come back for you by dusk. By no mean you leave this fucking factory.” His jaw was tight.

“I won’t.” She affirmed, “Should I do anything?”

“Get plenty of rest and food in you.” He shrugged, “But the cold will keep you awake.”

They spent the day together. Heisenberg made breakfast for them, Juniper insisting they eat on the couch.

They sat and ate, laughing about this and that. Juniper told Heisenberg about her most recent book she’s found around the factory and was now reading.

He listened intently, never telling her he’d read every book within the factory’s walls at least a dozen times himself. He was just content to see her happy, as he lazy ate his toast and sausage.

  His heart longed for more days like this, when they could just be two normal people.

The rest of the day went about the same. Heisenberg even set up the shoddy little television so they would watch some old films.

She knew that, in part, the day was his attempt to apologize; and even though she was very grateful for the time spent together without work, shadows of what happened could never be erased with any amount of apology.

She lay her head on his chest, the soft hum of an old black and white western played from the tv. Heisenberg’s fingers traced little circles over her arm and side, teetering between soothing and tickling.

She closed her eyes contently. She could hear him rustle around, pulling out a cigar and cutting the end. After a small click and the burning pops of it filled the air his hand returned to her, continuing its travels.

She began to drift, the sound of his heartbeat mixed the familiar scent of smoke enveloping her.

~

By the time Juniper awoke she was in the bed, covers tucked in around her. She heard the clinking of Heisenberg’s belts.

Blinking open her eyes she sat up groggily. Rubbing her eyes to clear her vision she saw Heisenberg dressing in all his usual attire.

“What are you doing?” She murmured, voice thick with sleep.

Heisenberg made a small sound of surprise, turning towards her, “Didn’t mean to wake you Doll.”

He took heavy steps towards her, closing the distance between them, “I have to go get some shit together for tonight.”

Before she could ask he shook his head, “You stay here and rest, it’ll be a long, fucking night.”

He bent over and kissed her forehead, beard scratchy against her skin.

“Stay safe.” She cooed, settling back into the warm blankets.

He made a rumble, happy to see her going back to sleep. As quietly as his stature could allow he picked up his hammer and was off.

~

Night of the Hunt…

He stood at the gates, the cold wind ripping his coat open. Lycans swarmed the forest and rocks, snapping and barking.

Heisenberg’s eyes scanned the countryside, the village was quiet, the smell of incense and goats blood rising in the wind. They knew a hunt was coming, trying to appease Miranda’s wrath.

The stupid bastards…

Juniper looked flushed and jumpy beside him. He touched her shoulder, “You alright?”

She looked up at him, green eyes dilated. She gave a tiny nod, shivering from more than the cold.

The moon covered the snowy land in an eerie silver light, the cold allowing sounds to slice through the night.

Heisenberg strode up to the gate, lifting his hammer.

“Time the rile them up, baby!” He shouted. Heisenberg began to bang the hammer off the fence, hard enough to cause a clattering sound but not enough to bend the metal of the bars.

The Lycans started to bark and howl, running up and down the fence line.

Heisenberg raised his head, bellowing out a howl into the night. The creatures joined in. Juniper felt the round rumble as Urias stomped into view.

“Roar for me!” Heisenberg hollered at the thirteen-foot Lycan. Urias looked at him almost curiously before raising his own hammer, mimicking Heisenberg. He bellowed out into the night, the sound deep and guttural.

Juniper stepped closer, her heart hammering in her chest. It wasn’t fear, some other primal emotion pumped through her veins.

“Howl for them Baby!” Heisenberg lifted his hammer over his head. Juniper breathed out heavily, eyes widening. She threw her head back, cupping her hands around her mouth, and howled up at the moon.

Heisenberg opened the gate, marching through. Juniper kept close to his heels, breaths coming out in hot huffs.

The Lycans bunched around them, howling and snapping at each other. Urias stomped up beside them, peering down at Heisenberg with cloudy eyes.

Man and creature raised their hammers towards the moon.

“Go!” Heisenberg bellowed.

Urius barked out deeply to the mass, before jumping off into the darkness, much too agile for something of his size.

The Lycans began to move, rushing forward. The moonlight seemed to sing, the air cracking with energy. Juniper felt it all. The song of the night pulsing through her. Her muscles itched and ached, thoughts warped for a single need. She pulled away from Heisenberg, feet seeming to move on their own.

Heisenberg took a heavy step after her, opening his mouth to bark a warning. The words died in his throat. He felt golden claws snake around his neck like icicles.

His stomach clenched, muscles going rigid.

“Let her go.” Mother Miranda whispered in his ear, “Let see how she fares on the Hunt, sweet boy.”

Her voice was colder than the night, steely and sharp. Worry clutched his heart but Heisenberg could only give the shallowest of nods.

Miranda withdrew her hands, stepping to the side to look over the scene.

Heisenberg stood uncomfortably still beside her, his eyes desperately scanning the forest for Juniper. She was lost to his sight…

~

Juniper ran between two varcolacs, she could feel the heat radiating off their sides. She was fast, faster then she’d ever remembered.

She was keeping pace with the creatures. A feeling rose in her chest, the desire to be even faster, to dig her toes into the frozen earth.

She halted enough to kick off her boots, feeling hot she threw her coat away with them.

She sped to catch up with them afterwards. Her legs elongated as she fell on all fours. In the new form she could easily match them, their milky eyes fixated on her as her body shifted to one that resembled theirs.

Her multiple green eyes glinted as she huffed out. She wanted to run and bite, to kill.

She snapped at one of the varcolacs, it jumped back a bit, shrinking from her jaws. She was slightly bigger than them, her teeth like daggers.

Reaching the hilltop over the village they paused. Her eyes caught many more shapes of Lycans in the dark trees.

She raised head, jaws cracking open to release an eerie howl. The others joined in, filling the night with a choir of terror.

They descended like a mass of rats into the village, dark shapes filtering between the buildings.

She could smell the fear, seeping through the cracks in the walls. Her wet nose twitched, drool forming at the corners of her mouth as she sensed the villages hiding in their homes. They were like mice hiding away within their holes.

Her teeth begged to sink into flesh, her mind a cloudy mess save for the most primal of desires.

The pungent stench of blood met her, with the death cry of a man far off. She surged forward, large claws digging into the frozen earth as she followed the trail of distress.

Her senses were bombarded with the melody of chaos. The sounds of terror and death rose up above the chilling winds, the scent of blood and fear almost suffocating.

She panted out heavily, every nerve screaming for more: to run, to bite, to eat, to kill.

Juniper found the source of her previous query. Lycans were shuffled over the form of a man, limp and bleeding in the snow.

She made a warbling cry of warning, the smaller predators moving away. She descended on the body, her teeth ripping flesh and breaking bones. She tasted blood, like iron on her tongue.

A sound, almost unnoticeable, sliced through the night: A small metallic click.

She looked up, pearlescent teeth shimmering in the low light.

She stared down the barrel of a gun. A villager held up a pistol with a shaking hand, reeking of terror.

She curled her lips, blood dripping heavily from her jaws, a monstrous growl escaping them.

Her muscles bunched, self preservation vacant from her in this current state.

The coil snapped, she leapt forward. The ear splitting bang of the gun sounded the second her feet left the snow.

[millie-ionaire05]

Soul Sucking

Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Incubus Jimin ☯ Fantasy AU ☯ Human Reader

Summary: A dull night at the club has Jimin frustrated and about to leave to find a more lively one. That is, until you walk in. Every part of him is quivering with excitement at the prospect of sucking you dry, but you’re going to be a tad bit harder than other girls he’s tried to consume. Harder, but so much more fulfilling.

Word Count: 5,806

Rating/Warning: M for Mature (+18), Explicit; pwp (honestly it’s less plot than I want to credit) female reader, exhibitionism? (he fingers you in the uber….I’m not sorry lol), fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral (reader receiving), big dick Jimin, unprotected sex (wrap the schlong before you sit on the dong), squirting, creampie, one night stand

Author’s Note: Well...this came out of nowhere. I...I am honestly frazzled after writing this. Do other writers get flustered by their own writing? Or is it just me? Also, thanks to the beautiful Viola (@ladyartemesia) for showing me the tools to make my own banner. It’s nowhere near as amazing as the ones she creates, but I’m still a little proud of it. After the emotional week I’ve had, finally posting this makes me super happy. I hope you guys like it. Stay safe, and healthy, and happy!

P.s. also a huge shoutout to my soul sister (@jin-the-middle) for letting me ugly cry to you about everything that went on. I don’t know where I’d be in life without you. I love you. 

   Jimin can’t help the scowl that claims his lips, his tongue pressing into the top of his mouth in an attempt to prevent the stench of the woman next to him from hitting his senses. Such easy targets they are, eager and willing to sleep with anything on two legs and a dick in between. He was getting tired of all the easy games, his body desperate for a challenge. He can’t even enjoy the thump of the music as the bass reverberates throughout the dance floor, which usually has his skin tingling and his legs twitching to join the throng of people grinding on each other. Not this time though. He has no interest in the people here tonight, and his feet begin to carry him back across the club towards the exit, at least until he feels the shift in the air. 

   Eyes rising, he senses the most intense energy walking through the entrance, body barely covered in a black two piece, and the most sinful high heels. His body is practically thrumming with excitement, that is, until he sees your face. You look pissed, your energy only increasing in levels that he could start physically seeing, the charged red tendrils appearing like flames as they surround you. His eyes widen as you stay close to another female, your eyes cutting sharp glares at the men who gawk at the both of you, a warning to keep distance. 

   Obviously from your hostility, you’d had no intention of coming to the club on a Friday night. Your energy was encapsulated with solidarity, and with a flick of his tongue against his lips, he can tell you rarely left the comforts of your home. He tries to inconspicuously make his way to a standing table that is behind yours, but he feels the shift in your energy at his presence, and he tactfully heads towards the bar instead.

   He waves his hand at the bartender, not missing the way her eyes widen and her body rushes to fulfill his wishes. He knows he shouldn’t, but he sends her a smirk, and he watches the way her cheeks brighten an embarrassing shade of pink. Internally chuckling to himself, he walks away to his intended spot behind your table, close enough to continue observing you without disturbing your heightened energy. 

   His body is quaking in anticipation as he observes you with who is clearly your friend, their body jumping up and down in place while yours remains still, your head resting on your hand on the table. You try to subtly tap your fingers against your cheek to the beat of the music, the only indication that you were enjoying the tunes as your friend yapped. Parting his lips, he allows your energy to drift towards him, your body tensing immediately. 

   Damn you’re perceptive. 

   He shuts his mouth, allowing what little energy he could get from you to roll against his tongue. You are fucking delectable. His mouth waters further as he tries to savor your taste, his cock twitching in his leather pants, begging for more. His mind runs with all possible scenarios that he could use to get closer to you, and he’s ready to make his move….until another man walks up to your table just as your friend walks away towards the dance floor. 

   Tsking at the filthy skeeze that attempts to talk to you, Jimin decides to wait, leaning forward against his table so he can catch what is being said.

   “So, do you come here often?” the man asks, leaning closer to you. 

   Jimin’s lips tighten to a thin line, at first to prevent his annoyance from coming forth, but then to stop the laugh that’s trying to bubble its way out.

   “No,” you answer flatly, not even glancing at the guy as you blatantly shift out of his presence. 

   The guy doesn’t take the hint and just tries to lean closer. “No wonder I don’t recognize you.” 

   Jimin’s eyes curl in amusement as you scoff at the guy, your gaze finally moving. 

   “You look sexy in that. Wanna dance?” the man enthusiastically proposes, his eyes clearly not on your face. 

   “Does that line work on other girls?” You retort back, snapping your fingers in his face. “My face is up here asshole. Go use that lame ass pickup on some other sap in this club, ‘cause I’m not interested.”

   The man’s face morphs into one of anger, and Jimin enjoys the way you tilt your head, as if to taunt the man by silently saying ‘what are you gonna do about it?’

   The guy doesn’t bother wasting more time making advances, just sulks away to a corner of the club, his eyes scoping out someone else to talk to. Jimin has the biggest urge to clap at your performance, but he has a feeling you won’t appreciate knowing he had been listening. Instead, he decides on a new plan, one that has a ninety-seven percent chance of working on you. It was still that three percent chance that has him worried. Well, only slightly.

   Walking around his table with his drink in hand, he casually walks towards you, eyeing the couple to his left. If he times it right, they will bump him in three…two...one. Sure enough the couple in mid-dance bump him, which forces him to collide with your body. He doesn’t miss the way your face curls in anger, and he schools his features to look shocked, his eyes wide. He turns to the couple that is looking at him, apologizing to him for bumping him, and he quickly turns to you and apologizes as well. 

   He watches the way your eyebrows come together in uncertainty, confused on whether you should stay angry, or acquiesce to the accident. He realizes you’ve decided on the latter when your lips set into a thin line. 

   “I truly am sorry,” he repeats, allowing his gaze to lower to the drink in his hands. 

   “It’s fine,” you sigh out, allowing your head to once again rest against your hand. Raising his gaze, he purposefully meets your eyes, and his stomach tingles at the way your lips part. He lets a friendly smile curl his lips, suppressing his deepest urges to throw you on the table and eat you out. 

   “You look like you’re having fun,” Jimin states in a teasing tone, smiling when your eyes go wide with mock surprise. 

   “Oh really?” you exaggerate your emphasis, lifting your head to free your hand and grab for your drink which is still full. “So much fun.”

   He giggles, allowing his eyes to squint at you. Your energy is all over the place, his tongue begging to come out to taste some more, but he forcefully keeps it pressed against the top of his mouth. He shifts his feet to simulate hesitation, his mouth curling down into a frown. 

   “Well...I guess I’ll leave you to it,” he says low enough for you to hear, his eyes picking up your surprise at his demeanor, which is clearly more considerate than any of the other patrons in the club. You just didn’t know it’s for a different reason.

   “It’s just…,” you start, stopping him in his movement of walking away, and he practically has to bite on his tongue to keep the smile from twisting up his lips. “My friend...she wanted to come.”

   Jimin turns to you again, his eyebrows coming together to show his confusion on how that was a logical explanation. His eyes narrow to the pink tinging your cheeks as you take another sip of your drink, your eyes more focused on your friend on the dance floor. He waits patiently for you to continue, not wanting to push too quickly, because he knew you would run. It was all in the way your energy twisted, warning him not to make any sudden movements. 

   “She wanted to make her ex jealous,” you continue, your finger pointing to a man on the edge of the dance floor eyeing your friend. Jimin’s gaze moves to the man before he nods his head slowly. “So, here I am. A good best friend, here to make sure everything goes to plan.”

   “But you don’t want to be here,” Jimin says, more a statement than a question, but you still shake your head. 

   “Nope,” you confirm, sighing heavily. 

   Jimin takes a moment to swipe his tongue against his lips, trying to get another taste of you before deciding how to proceed. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes watch him, and then he’s using his teeth to worry on his bottom lip, morphing his expression to one of care. 

   “So you have to watch her all night?” he asks, his eyebrows coming together in concern. “That doesn’t seem very fair.”

   You chuckle at his statement, a humorless chuckle and something flashes across your eyes that he doesn’t quite understand. “No, as soon as they disappear together I’ll be able to go home.”

   From the way your eyes shift nervously, he can tell you are worried if you’d shared too much information. Changing tactics, he schools his expression to one of innocence, briefly meeting your eyes before looking away.

   “If you want, I can keep you company?”

   Silence follows as your energy wavers, clearly trying to warn you of his actions, but you seem unsure. 

   “Ah, sorry,” he purposely begins to ramble, taking small steps away from you. “It was a dumb idea. I just figured it would help pass the time, and maybe stop anyone else from trying to come up to yo-”

   “Sure,” you say, giving him a small smile as his face morphs to one of shock. He almost shivers at the laugh that escapes your lips. “Don’t look so shocked.”

   He chuckles, watching as you scoot over to give him space to set his still untouched drink down onto the table. He had his ticket in. Now to keep you in his grasp. 

   “So, what brings you here?” you question, looking at him pointedly from above the rim of your glass as you drink.

   He laughs, giddy at the way you blanch before your cheeks are filling with color. He fiddles with his own drink on the table, turning the glass slowly and avoiding your gaze. 

   “I was actually about to leave before bumping into you,” he states, shrugging when you give him a confused look. “I wasn’t having much fun.”

   You nod your head slowly, clearly able to understand him. Your eyes move to your friend on the dance floor, your eyebrows rising at the sight. He turns to look, seeing that your friend had finally convinced her ex to join her, their bodies practically one as they grind against each other. 

   “Looks like your night may be over soon,” he states, giving you a smile as his mind races. Clearly he’d have to up his efforts if he hoped to get you in his grasp tonight. 

   “Thank god,” you laugh, your eyes twinkling at him. 

   He forces his eyes to widen, as if taken aback by your beauty, though he didn’t have to try very hard. Your energy just emphasizes your beauty, and his cock starts to stiffen. To simulate nerves, he accidentally spills his drink on the table, his hands fluttering in worry. 

   “Oh shit. I’m so sorry,” he starts, but is silenced when your hand rises. 

   “No harm, no foul,” you voice, grabbing some napkins from a nearby table. 

   He reaches for the napkins in your hands, mumbling that it was his fault and he would clean it, but he stops moving when your hands meet and he sees you shiver. He knows it's because of the effect he has on you, just like with any other girl, but you’re something different. You’re a harder feat. 

   “Are you okay?” he probes, grabbing hold of the napkins and slipping them from your fingers, giving your body a chance to relax at the loss of contact. 

   “Y-yeah,” you stutter, clearing your throat. 

   The shift in your bearings is discernible, letting him know he could move a bit faster in his advancements. His tongue tingles as he swipes it against his lips, his eyes moving to see your own tongue running along your lips, mimicking his actions. Your cheeks were pink once again, and your energy was swaying towards him, silently gesturing for him to make his move. 

   “I didn’t mean to spill the drink,” he starts, causing you to jump in your spot, but he pretends he didn’t see it. “I was just in awe at how beautiful you are.”

   You snort at his words, a giggle bubbling from your lips as you move the cups out of the way so he can wipe down the table. He smiles, finishing the task quickly before looking at you again. 

   “I’m serious,” he says, licking his lips again. 

   You copy him once again, your eyes trained on his lips before fluttering up to his eyes. You both remain there, staring at each other, gradually closing the space between your bodies. His fingers twitch, and he takes a gamble by brushing a loose strand of hair to behind your ear, his cock twitching at the hitch in your breath. He isn’t sure he can wait much longer. 

   “Hmmm,” you hum, obviously trying to find something to say to diffuse the growing atmosphere between you two. “What’s your name?”

   He’s surprised at the question, intending to give you one of the many false names he throws around, but for some reason that’s not what slips out. 

   “Jimin.” 

   “Jimin,” you repeat, and he almost groans. 

   It sounds so beautifully wicked on your lips, his cock immediately at half mast and begging to be touched. He shifts in his spot, hoping to relieve some of the pressure.

   “And what’s your name, beautiful?” he questions, leaning closer so that his parted lips allow your energy to flow towards him. 

   You murmur your name, your body naturally swaying towards him. Suddenly your lips are connecting to his, your energy quivering as he caresses up your arms, his hands stopping at the back of your neck. Your lips are so soft against him, his tongue coming out in silent query, and you comply willingly. A moan so sweet escapes you, your fingers gripping the lapels of his blue jacket, clearly desperate to bring him closer. 

   He would have had no issue taking you there in the club, amongst the crowd of people, but he has so much in mind to do to you. Reluctantly he pulls his lips away from yours, meeting your lust filled eyes. He smirks at your whine, your fingers tightening against his jacket. He moves to kiss along your cheek until he makes it to your ear, allowing his breath to make you shiver in his grasp. 

   “Shall I take you home?” he whispers, his teeth coming out to nibble at the edge of your ear. 

   “Please,” you beg.

   He leans away from you, moving his hands to cup your cheeks, his eyes piercing into yours. You still in his grasp, clearly under his influence and waiting for anything he might ask.

   “Did you drive here?” he asks, smiling when you shake your head. “Call an Uber.”

   You do as he says, reaching for your phone and pulling up the app, typing your address before paying. He keeps his hand on you, maintaining the physical contact to ensure you stay within his influence. When you’re done, you look up at him, eyes wide in search of being praised. He smiles, his hand moving to caress your cheek, and he watches you lean into it. Moving swiftly, he grabs your purse that rests on the table, his free hand grabbing your own and leading you towards the exit. 

   “How much longer beautiful?” 

   You look down at your phone, allowing him to guide you out of the club. “They’re here.”

   He smirks, pushing you both past the crowd of people outside waiting to come in. You point to the car that’s parked across the street, and your bodies hurriedly shuffle towards it. He opens the door, allowing you to get in first, and for a moment he loses contact with your body. When he finally sits inside the car, he notices your dazed look as you watch him, the fog in your mind trying to unravel. He swiftly places his hand on your exposed thigh, the hem of your two piece having risen up and exposing more skin. His eye twitches at the sight. 

   “Buckled up?” the driver questions, breaking him out of his yearning. 

   He turns towards the woman in the driver's seat, silently thanking anyone above that the driver is female. His tongue snakes out to lick his lips, and instantly senses the weak energy of the driver, clearly exhausted from a long day. Smirking at how easy it would be, he moves his free hand until it makes contact with the woman, the woman’s eyes meeting his in the rearview mirror. 

   “Don’t worry about our seatbelts, love. Just make sure you drive us safely, and be sure not to look back here.”

   He waits for her to nod her head, her fingers moving to the gear shift and putting it in drive. Content with the situation, he shifts his attention back to you, his fingers squeezing your thigh. He allows a bit of the haze to leave you, just so that he can get you to comprehend what will be happening. 

   “Alright, beautiful, come here,” he motions to his lap, adjusting himself so that he’s sitting in the middle seat. 

   You obey him, moving to sit in his lap and face him, but he quickly adjusts you so that you’re facing the windshield. His hands cup behind your knees, spreading you until your legs rest just outside of his. He purposefully leans further into the seat, spreading his legs which, inevitably, spreads yours. His fingers slide across your exposed thigh before coming to the edge of your hem, his hands gripping the fabric and shoving up. A gasp escapes your mouth, your eyes moving to the driver to see if they’re watching. 

   “Don’t worry about her, beautiful,” he soothes, his fingers moving to the apex between your legs. “She won’t be watching...unless you want her to?”

   As he finishes his question, his fingers skim against your panty covered clit, causing you to shiver. Your thighs tense and your hands turn to fists, clearly unsure of what to do with them. He moves to your hands, guiding them until each is resting against the headrest of the driver’s seat and passenger seat, and he watches as your knuckles turn white. Chuckling to himself, he continues on his journey to between your thighs, his nostrils flaring as your scent begins to overwhelm him. 

   “Do you like that idea?” he coos, playing with you from the outside of your panties, the tips of his fingers barely making contact. “Do you want her to watch as I make you come?”

   Your body trembles above him as he pulls your panties to the side, his fingers going straight to your soaked core. 

   “Answer me beautiful,” he commands, kissing on the exposed flesh of your arm as he shifts himself, allowing his face to peer from the side of your body. 

   “N-no.”

   “No?” he muses, the tips of his fingers swirling in your wetness. “Your body is telling me otherwise, baby. Are you sure you don’t want her to watch?”

   He hears your answer catch in the back of your throat, his middle finger having entered your tight hole and expertly curving to hit that spot. It’s moments like this that remind him how much he loves being an incubus, loves the feel of a woman under his touch, and the way your energy begs to be sucked out by him. You’ve clearly been abstinent for quite a while, because you are probably the tightest pussy he’s had in so long. The thought makes him pause. 

   “Baby, how long has it been since someone has pleased you like this?” 

   He pauses in his motions to allow your mind to focus. 

   “A-about 3 years,” you whimper out, trying your hardest to move so that his finger can continue its dance on your g-spot. 

   “Aw, you poor baby,” he purrs, giving you what you want by curling his finger, stroking you. 

   Your moans swiftly fill the car, the smell of you wafting in his nose as your energy slithers between his lips, his taste buds tingling as saliva fills his mouth. You’re beautiful. Every noise that leaves your lips, the way your wetness drips past his fingers and coats his hand, it’s perfection. You have so much sexual energy that for a moment he almost feels overwhelmed, wanting to do everything under the sun to you, but not wanting to rush in the chase. 

   Sticking in a second finger, his cock hardens further at the way your body goes taut, clearly at the edge of an orgasm. He adjusts you in his lap, purposely rubbing your ass against his hardened member, and giving himself better leverage to shove his fingers further inside of you. He feels the uncomfortable shift of his rings as he forces his fingers knuckle deep in you, but he ignores it as he speeds up in his efforts to bring you to a climax. 

   Your back arches away from him, your head thrown back as your muscles tighten, and his mouth instinctively drops open. His head is filled with the heady energy of your potent orgasm, and his patience begins its drop. You taste...heavenly. Your energy quivers in his mouth as he continues fingering you, his senses becoming overwhelmed when his palm rubs against your clit, your cry ringing in his ears. He can feel your walls pulsate on his fingers before remaining tightened as he pushes you towards overstimulation, your hands moving to his arm and squeezing. Even he couldn’t tell if you were silently begging him to stop or continue, and unfiltered curses spring from your mouth when he begins to vigorously roughen his strokes. 

   “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groans out, enjoying the squelch of your juices when he adds a third finger. 

   His name falls from your lips as your nails dig into his skin, causing him to groan again. His cock begs to be freed from the confines of his pants, begs to have your lips wrapped around it as he fucks your mouth before fucking your tight hole. At the rate this is going though, he isn’t sure he’ll last long if he lets his cock anywhere near your mouth.

   He relishes in the way your body shakes above his, your thighs trembling as you unsuccessfully try to bring them closer together. He purposely spreads his legs even further, your body trying to fight him, but ultimately you give up, your body curling forward as your forehead rests against the driver’s seat. Jimin shifts his eyes to look out the window, noticing the car is slowing as they approach an apartment complex. 

   “Just come for me one more time, baby,” he coaxes. “Just one more time on my fingers.”

   Adjusting his hand, he removes his palm from your clit and replaces the pressure with the fingers of his free hand, his fingers practically pinching you in a mix of pain and pleasure that he knows will bring you to another intense orgasm. Sure enough, your back bows away from him once again, your walls clenching tighter against his fingers as you orgasm. He ignores the way your walls attempt to still his fingers, helping you ride the second orgasm before he slowly removes his hand. Your body unsteadily heaves air into your lungs, and he brings his soaked hand to his mouth as his free hand strokes the inside of your thigh. 

   A moan rips from his throat the moment your juices touch his tongue, his body thrumming as he tastes you on his fingers and his cock jumps in his pants. 

   “Fuck,” he growls, his free hand stilling to squeeze your thigh as he sucks all of your juices off his fingers. “You taste so fucking good.”

   The car stops in front of your apartment complex, the woman in the driver’s seat remaining compliant in keeping her eyes forward, and Jimin helps you fix your clothes. He allows you to slip out of the car first, unworried about you losing the fogginess he’d instilled in your energy. His eyes fall to the pool of wetness on the floor of the backseat, and he can’t help but feel partial pride and guilt. Pulling a hundred dollar bill from the inside of his coat, he leans forward and strokes the arm of the driver. 

   “Thank you, love,” he murmurs, a smirk curling his lips when she jumps. “Here’s for the trouble.”

   Uninterested in waiting for the driver’s response, he slips out of the car and closes the door, eagerly grabbing your hand. 

   “Lead the way, beautiful.”

   Your feet earnestly speed walk to the elevator, your body practically thrumming with impatience as you guide him to your apartment, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you finally open your door. He can’t help but chuckle at your actions, your energy ablaze around you, begging him for more. Oh, but he is so ready to give you more. That’s all he wants to do for the rest of the night, and his lips tingle at the prospect of draining you dry. 

   You lead him through the small hallway that opens to the kitchen and living room, and he has to stop you there. He can’t wait anymore, not after getting that teasing taste of you in the uber. His body becomes flush against yours before his hands grab the back of your thighs, skin like velvet as he lifts you onto the kitchen counter, his eyes noticing the shiver that racks your body. 

   Unwilling to waste anymore time, he spreads your thighs, his mouth dropping straight to your panty covered core with a groan. Like fire against his lips, he feels the energy slide past his tongue and down his throat, his body becoming alight with your pleasure. Desperate for more, he immediately pushes your thong aside and connects with your clit.

   Such sweet ecstasy. Like a delicious four course meal, filling him in ways he hadn’t realized he was desperate for. His desperation grows as he feels your fingers slide between his blonde strands, grasping hold of his locks in an attempt to try and bring him closer. At this point, he’s willing to give you whatever you want. If you want the world, he’s willing to serve it to you in any way he can. But his cock weeps for sweet release, and he struggles to remain on track with pleasuring you all night before he gets his fill of you. The more he builds you up, the more he can take from you by the end of the night, but your energy seems almost too full already. It’s quite distracting for him. 

   Leaning away from your core, he alternates between nipping and kissing the soft flesh of your thighs as he pants, frantically trying to keep his thoughts together. His soul sucking instinct rears up in him, annoyed that he was even wanting to think instead of just taking what you are clearly so willing to give. Unable to stop, his hand moves to grip himself through his pants, squeezing in hopes of relieving some pressure. It doesn’t help. 

   “Mmm, baby,” he murmurs, nipping at your flesh a bit harshly as his hunger grows. “I need to feel you come on my tongue. Can you do that for me? Can you come in my mouth?”

   His eyes cast up to see your eager nod, and an aching groan rips from his throat. Practically delirious with the longing to build you up to a breaking point, his mouth connects with your clit once again. You keen above him, spurring him on as his tongue flicks unnaturally quick against your overly sensitive nub, your thighs quivering on each side of his face. He hastily shifts in his spot before shoving two fingers inside of you again, knowingly curling his fingers as if he’s known your body his whole life. 

   His name falls from your lips in rapid tandem with the strokes to your g-spot, and he reflexively thrusts into the air. He isn’t going to make it the whole night, and as soon as this orgasm hits you, he needs your tight hole on his cock. The mere thought has his lips latching onto your clit, suckling you as his strokes inside your wet heat turn harsh, your slick juices echoing in his ears. The thrum of his pulse adds to the perfect orchestra as you begin to fall apart on him. Your hands grip his hair as you greedily ride your high against his mouth, his tongue slurping as much as he can before you begin to whimper.

   Pulling away from you, he lifts your body off the counter and throws you over his shoulder, his hand connecting with the exposed flesh of your ass. He doesn’t even bother wiping his face as he makes his way to the only closed door connecting to the living room, his nostrils flaring when he walks into your room and immediately catches sight of the vibrator on your nightstand. No wonder your energy was so potent, you had been sexually frustrated for so long, clearly unable to feel properly satisfied with just the vibrator. 

   Throwing you onto your bed, the squeak that falls from your lips and the wide eyed look you give him does nothing to calm his futile attempts at remaining composed. He leans forward and removes your two-piece, a growl of an instruction leaving his mouth for you to continue getting naked as he peels off his own clothes. His fingers tremble when his cock springs from the confines of his pants, the weeping head tapping against his abdomen before standing straight at attention, greedy for pleasure. He doesn’t miss the way your mouth turns to an ‘o’ before you lick your lips, your eyes hypnotizingly ogling him, and his cock twitches in response. 

   Your hands unconsciously rise towards him, but he grasps them both in one of his own, climbing onto the bed to forcibly lay you on your back. Your legs instinctively comply in spreading for him to sit himself comfortably between them, your wetness dripping onto your sheets and he can’t look away. He allows his head to tap your clit, wondering if he can make you come from just the action. The idea turns even more appealing when your thighs squeeze his waist, clearly surprised at the sensation. 

   Gritting his teeth, Jimin uses his free hand to grab hold of his dick, swirling his head in your wetness before tapping it on your clit. 

   “Fuck!” you cry out, back bowing off the bed. “Oh god, please.”

   He forces himself to chuckle, but ignores your indirect request in favor of tapping the head of his cock against your puckered nub. The grip of your thighs tightens against him as he continues slapping himself on you, his eyes unwilling to stray from the sight as your juices begin to pour from your hole, your moans becoming more rowdy as tears begin to stream from your eyes. 

   Your energy is so high it practically wraps around his cock, making him wince, but he doesn’t stop. Unsurprised when you suddenly become quiet, he chokes out curses when you squirt, your juices soaking his bottom half as he persistently slaps himself against you. You try with all your might to remove your hands from his grip, but he keeps them locked in place as you cry out your release, chest heaving as you try and catch your breath. 

   “So fucking beautiful, baby,” he gruffly praises, moving so that his dick is in direct line with your pussy. “So fucking perfect. You come so well.”

   He’s sure your walls are clenched tighter than when he’d had his fingers inside of you, because it takes him a solid five minutes to fully sheath himself, your insides trying to push him out as you continue to squirt. He remains still as you continuously leak onto the sheets, unwilling to part from you until he’s sure he has all of you. He watches as your energies swirl, the red tendrils finally able to connect with his blue ones and a whirl of purple flashes behind his eyes. 

   All of your pleasure rushes through him, his cock swelling even further in you, and a whimpered gasp leaves your lips. Uncaring and far from his right mind, he begins a relentless pace inside of you, his eyes fluttering as he watches himself incessantly disappear into your tightness. His thighs tense and he releases your hands, his own moving to the back of your knees before he purposely brings your knees to your chest, the new angle allowing him to hit your spot. The moment he makes contact with it his head rolls back, the shared pleasure he’s experiencing as your energies connect just helps him expertly adjust himself, always knowing the best way to fill you. 

   “Jimin, Jimin, Jimin.”

   Somewhere in his mind he hears you chanting his name, like a prayer in a bible, and it stokes him further. The kindling fire deep within him is now raging, swallowing him whole as he meets your eyes, the galaxy somehow within them. Your pussy is devouring him and he feels it both on his cock and in your energy that you’re about to orgasm again, and he forcefully throws himself forward, connecting his open mouth with yours in an attempt to suck as much of you as he can. 

   The edge is right at the tip of his cock as he gives one last thrust, your energy expending from your body and into his as he spills into your walls. He remains hard within you as he continues sucking all of you into him, the purple galaxy now behind his eyes becoming almost painful as his empty soul fills. He unconsciously thrusts within you, realizing that he’s still painting your walls white. 

   “So perfect. Fucking perfect for me,” he growls out into your jaw, nipping occasionally. 

   He doesn’t know how much time passes before he finally has his fill, his cock softening as he pulls himself out of you, his eyes meeting yours. His eyes widen painfully when he sees your body still surrounded by red energy, albeit it wasn’t as much as before. 

   “Fuck,” he groans, his cock stiffening once again at the sight. 

   So. Fucking. Perfect.

[the-dragons-knight]

FFXIV Write 2021

Prompt #25 - Hide Not Your Happiness

<Post Stormblood Patch 4.0 MSQ>

Silver Lining - ‘a sign of hope in an unfortunate or gloomy situation; a bright prospect’

————————————————————

The ring on her finger felt so heavy suddenly, and she twisted it back and forth as she paced the small area in the gardens of House Fortemps. Her feline ears could still pick up the sounds of the music coming from the open windows of the ballroom and the voices of the guests happily chatting and laughing within. She made sure she could not be seen from those bright windows for her absence would surely raise suspicion. It was her celebration after all, a party celebrating the Warrior of Light’s return to Ishgard after the victory in Ala Mhigo, and yet here she was, fretting and worrying to herself in the garden. Of course she had ample reason to worry. Tonight was the night they would tell them all.

It was the night she and Aymeric decided it was time to tell the world of their relationship as well as their engagement to be married.

They had kept it secret all this time to not raise unnecessary suspicion from anyone that she had ‘swayed the lord commander’s decisions with her wiles’ or any such thing as they had come together in the midst of the Dragonsong War, and once it was over, Ishgard needed to focus on its own healing, not the gossip about the First Seat of the House of Lords’s love life. No, she already had to put those still holding on to the past in their places when they spoke ill of him. She would not be another reason for them to do so.

And so they hid their relationship, hiding dinners and late night dates behind the gauze of diplomatic discussions and waiting until the dead of night to meet one another. It had been hard to hide their feelings at times, and so they settled on others knowing about their deep feelings for one another, yet never the truth that they were together. Not until now.

It had been the first thing he had said when Aymeric had knelt down in front of her, the setting sunlight sparkling in his eyes and crowning his head as she had looked into the warmth of his loving smile and said as he’d held her hand, “I want the world to know of us. I want our love to be on full display for all to see. For too long I have hidden it, and I want to show everyone just how proud of our love I am. How proud I am that you call me yours, and I call you mine.”

She would never forget those words, how she prayed to the Savoir that she never ever would forget the beauty of his speech and the love in his eyes that day. Yet even while this happiness bubbled in her heart, her hands trembled as her nerves still ruled over her body. Her ears fell flat on her head as she stared down at the silver ring and how it glistened in the moonlight, spinning it slightly as the dark sapphire stone that was set in it sparkled with the gold filigree that accented it. She sighed deeply and turned on her heel to pace the other direction again, the fallen snow on the ground sweeping into the air with the movement of the long skirt of her Ishgardian gown. Aymeric was probably looking for her, worrying where she might have gone. Her absence was sure to be noticed too by others, and she knew she would need to return to the party soon.

“Katsum? Is that you?”

But not just yet.

The blonde knightess’s tail fluffed slightly in surprise as she looked up and stopped in her tracks, quickly hiding her ringed hand under the other as she did her best to smile at the aged Count of the house, “Lord Edmont.”

Edmont was standing on the last step of the small set of stairs that descended into the little garden they stood in, looking at her curiously as he held his cane close to him. His thick furred coat had a few of the fallen snowflakes on it, meaning he had been standing there for at least a few minutes, and Katsum’s heart trembled as she wondered how long he had been watching her pace. Yet he merely smiled at her, regarding her with a gentle nod of his head, “Needed a moment away from the noise, yes? It can be rather overwhelming at times.”

Katsum quickly nodded in response, happy for the excuse he provided her, “Yes. I have quite a lot on my mind so I…needed a moment away to think.”

Edmont nodded, “You are a busy woman, a very sought after one as well. Though Ser Aymeric spoke of having news to share tonight which has me rather curious.”

He didn’t…did he

“Oh?”

“Yes, he mentioned it was some wonderful news, though it leaves me to wonder what better news can we get over the liberation of Ala Mhigo.” He chuckled, stepping down off the last step and standing before her now.

She did her best to smile and laugh with him, “That is true yes. I suppose we can only wonder. He did not mention anything to me as of late.” She hated lying, but the painful throb of fear in her chest gave her few options.

He seemed to think about that for a moment before he spoke again, “Actually, I am glad that you are here. I had come to do some thinking myself, but I would like the company of another for a moment or two if you wouldn’t mind?”

The knightess blinked as her insides shiver in worry, but she controlled herself and gave him a warm smile and a nod, “I’d be glad to.”

He nodded and led her to the stone bench that was settled in the middle of the garden, facing a small statuette of Halone surrounded by a snow-covered bush of red flowers. Katsum settled herself beside him on the bench after sweeping off the fallen snow, glancing over at him out of the corner of her eye.

Edmont stood his cane in front of him and settled both hands upon it as he gazed up at the moon, “A beautiful and peaceful night, yes? It reminds me of the first night and yours came to Ishgard. An uncommonly calm night that was, but I'm sure you know that by now.”

Katsum nodded, “I remember that night well.”

“It was that same night that I chanced to hear someone singing in the silence, and when I had opened the window, I found it was coming from one of the rooms upstairs, and the window to your room was open too,” Katsum froze in shock, yet Edmont seemed not to notice and smiled as he continued, “And while I listened, I noticed another figure walking along the late night streets and he too heard the singing and stopped to listen, enamored by its loving tune as I was. I was not sure at first who the man was, but when the moonlight caught his scaled regalia and the royal blue of his coat, it was hard not to see Ser Aymeric.”

Katsum was horrified. She had thought no one had seen or heard her that night, and now she knew that not only had Count Edmont heard her, but Aymeric had as well?

She locked gazes with the smiling count, and he laughed at the shock he saw there, “It’s alright, dear. I’m sorry to have spied on you, yet I noticed something else that night that neither of you did for quite a while I think.”

She blushed lightly with embarrassment as she looked down at her clasped hands, still hiding her ring finger and the glittering ring that encircled it, “And what would that be?”

“That you both of you had fallen for one another before you even knew what love was.”

Her ears stood straight up as her jaw fell, “My lord, that’s—!”

“May I see it?”

“..See what?”

“The ring, dear girl, the one you are hiding from me.”

Katsum’s sapphire eyes flew back to him before she looked down at where he held out his hand to her, gesturing for her own. With shaking fingers, she let go of her own hand and placed it gently in his, watching his gloved fingers clasp hers gently as he turned her hand and watched the ring gleam and shimmer in the night air.

Edmont smiled warmly, and breathed a deep and happy sigh, “How beautiful. And how happy I am for you both.”

“But…how did you…?”

“I was a boy once myself, Katsum. A boy who walked a similar path to Lord Aymeric’s. I know those longing looks and stolen glances. They were my own many not so long ago when I was young,” He let her hand go as she returned it to her lap and he leaned back on the bench, “I cannot say that all noticed, but I did. I could not help but notice.”

“I see…” She mumbled softly.

“So then I ask as I am rather worried. Why does it weigh on you so now? Are you not happy about being engaged to him?”

“Of course I am!” Her voice was a bit louder than she expected and spooked her slightly as she softly apologized and lowered her words so only he might hear her, just in case, “I am so joyous it is hard to contain at times. I’m marrying the man I love more than anyone after all, but…I worry. I worry what Ishgard might have to say of such things.” Edmont did not answer right away, looking to be in thought of this as she continued, finally just letting go of it all and laying it all bare, “Aymeric has been the subject of gossip all his life…and I fear that some would question him more if the woman who helped save Ishgard were to become his wife. Would they think I swayed his decisions with my…body…or something, or would they say I was stringing him along for a high seat of power in the nation? Would they call him a heretic for marrying a woman not of the same faith, and a miqo’te as well? I just…”

“Katsum,” Her voice died as he laid a hand on hers, “Stop.” She quieted, her sadness and worry showing itself in her face and eyes as she looked up at him. He sighed heavily before responding, “My people are a stubborn sort. Or should I say ours, yes? Your mother is of Ishgardian descent, or at least from the colonies. Not that it truly matters. You are right, some will question things, yet the same people will question if the people of the Brume should be allowed to speak about the issues of their own nation. The answer is undeniable yes, yet they will still question it. The point I mean to make by that is why let the words of these people stop you from being happy, hmm?”

Her ears fell as the truth she had been trying to tell herself finally rang through to her heart, happy to hear him continue as his voice chase away the seeds of doubt and worry, “You have done so much for this nation, putting your own life in the line to fight when so many of the noble folk have never stepped foot on the battlefield. Who could, in their right mind, question your marriage as being anything other than love truly? The only proof they could ever find is the amount of caring love you both hold for one another, always running to the other’s aid whenever it is needed. Yes, people will gossip in their jealousy, but Katsum, I say let them. You deserve this,” He laughed with the next words he spoke, “And by the Fury, I will see to it that one of my sons is happily married before I leave this world, I swear it.”

Katsum couldn’t stop the giggle that left her and it warmed her heart to see him smile so brightly in response. She looked down at the ring again, smiling at the blue gem as she breathed out the last of her anxieties, “You are too kind, my lord, truly…but thank you. Your words have helped me see the happiness again.”

“Good. Then show it here,” He pointed to her face as he tapped his cane on the stone path beneath their feet, “Show the world happy you are that your finger is lined with silver and gold, and the promise of forever.”

The blonde warrior nodded, “I shall.”

“Katsum? Lord Edmont? Are you out here?” The familiar ring of Aymeric’s deep voice called out over the hedges to them and the count moved to stand, holding out a hand to her to help her stand as well.

“Ah yes, it is quite time to return to the festivities, and high time you returned to your husband-to-be’s side, yes daughter?”

Katsum shook her head slightly with a laugh as she took his hand and rose to her feet, “Yes, I do believe so. We have joyous news to share after all, yes?”

He nodded, walking beside her up the path to the manor, making their way to where the Lord Commander stood waiting for them, “I thank you for your time and for listening to an old count’s ramblings as well, my lady.”

“Lord Edmont?”

“Yes, Lady Katsum?”

“Thank you. Thank you for easing my worries.”

“It was my pleasure, child.”

((Thank you, Stephen Critchlow, for the life you breathed into this character. The count shall always hold a special place in my and Katum’s heart, so thank you for the character your words and voice gave him.))

[jiminsstarrynight]

Fireworks

Fireworks Genre: Smut/Fluff Pairing: Yoongi/Reader A/N: @rainbepourin was my first friend in this fandom and let’s be real, I’d die for her. Pretty sure she wouldn’t let me though, so I wrote her fic instead. Thank you for always putting up with me and my crap. I love you tons. <3

                                                          ************

You were placing the last few items into the basket when there was a knock at the door. Dropping the flap that would cover the contents, you hurried from the kitchen down the hall to the front door of your apartment. You pulled open the door and felt your stomach twitch in excitement when you found him standing before you. 

"Yoongi! You're early," you said, a slightly accusatory tone accompanying the observation. 

He smiled sheepishly and ran his fingers through his hair. "I know. I couldn't wait any longer." He held up a tall paper bag. "But I brought wine."

You laughed as you pretended to contemplate his offer. "Mmmm….forgiven," you said with a giggle before shaking your head. "Shit. I'm totally in the way. Come in." You stepped back out of the doorframe and waited for him to close the door behind him before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. He smiled and placed his free hand on your hip, sliding around your waist, leaning forward to kiss you softly on the lips, and you could feel the blush heating your cheeks. 

"Come on," you said. "I've got the snacks packed and just need to get the blankets together." You turned and headed back towards the kitchen, very aware of how slowly he drifted his hand from your waist. Stopping at the hall closet on the way past, you grabbed a stack of fluffy blankets before continuing to the kitchen. You put the blankets on the counter beside the basket and lifted the lid to make sure you had everything you needed. 

“Oh, wine glasses,” you mumbled and turned towards the cupboard. You crashed into Yoongi, standing directly behind you with a huge smile on his face. His arms wrapped around you in a crushing hug and he laughed. 

“Slow down,” he said, burying his face in your hair. “You’re the one who said I was early, right? We should take advantage,” he said before lowering his lips to yours. You responded instantly, raising your arms to rest them over his shoulders and stepping backwards as he guided you back towards the counter. You scraped your nails along the short hair at the nape of his neck and he hissed into your mouth, slotting his thigh in between your legs. 

“We don’t want to miss the show,” you said weakly, not sure you wanted to put up much of a fight. Your hips rolled against his thigh and he pulled back from your lips for a moment, a smirk on his face. 

“Is that a challenge?” His hands slid down from your waist to your ass and he lifted you effortlessly, sitting you on the counter. “Fortunately, you dressed for the occasion,” he said, nodding at your short black skirt. His hands slid along your thighs and you shivered as they passed under the hem. He pressed his lips to yours again as his hands slid further, sliding his tongue along the seam between your lips to encourage you to deepen the kiss. As your lips parted and his tongue slipped inside, his right hand dropped to cup your centre and you felt him draw in a breath sharply as the heat radiated against it. You would have been embarrassed about how ready you were already, but his finger was sliding along your slit and gathering the wetness already starting to collect there and suddenly your head was empty. His fingers teased your entrance slowly before sliding two fingers inside of you. You gripped his shoulders tightly as your head fell from his lips to his shoulder and he chuckled. 

“And to think you were trying to talk me out of this,” he murmured in your ear. “Seems to me like this is exactly what you want right now.” His fingers moved easily in and out of you and he pressed a third one inside on the next slide inwards. 

“Oh my god, just shut up and fuck me already,” you groaned against his shoulder. 

“As the lady wishes,” he said, and you could feel the chuckle deep in his chest as he slid his fingers out of you and lifted them to his mouth to suck them clean. 

“Delicious,” he said softly before undoing his belt and pants and allowing his erection to spring free. He reached behind him into his back pocket and pulled out a condom, tearing open the package expertly and rolling it onto himself smoothly. Grabbing your hips, he tugged you forward so you were sitting right at the edge and held you there firmly to give you reassurance that you wouldn’t fall before stepping between your legs and sliding into you in one smooth movement. 

“Yoongi,” you gasped as his hard length stretched you as it always did, a full but perfect feeling. He began to thrust into you after a short pause to ensure you were ready, his movements short and rapid. He moved one hand to hold the small of your back, holding you tightly in place and brought the other hand to your clit, circling the hard nub quickly. He knew your body so well, had from the first time you slept together, that you knew it wasn’t going to be long before he sent you over the edge. You tensed around him and the way he growled in response told you he wasn’t kidding about being done before the show that night. 

“God, you’re so perfect,” he said in your ear, his voice rough with arousal. “Just letting me fuck you on the kitchen counter...but just you wait. Once we get to bed tonight I’m going to take such good care of you.” He pressed his thumb hard into your clit and that combined with the words he whispered into your ear was enough to send you over the edge. Your legs locked around his waist as you let out a cry, walls pulsating around him as he thrust into you. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled. “You feel so good wrapped around me like that.” You clung to him tightly as he thrust into you hard a few more times and then he stilled, and even throught the condom you could feel him pulsing inside of you as he reached his high. You ran your hands up and down his back as he came back down, breathing heavily into your neck as he held you closely. He slid out of you carefully before getting rid of the condom and then crossed the few short steps back to you, smoothing your skirt back down over your thighs and smirking. He pointed at the clock. 

“11:20. Plenty of time,” he said, laughing. 

“You’re such a little shit,” you said, joining in his laughter. 

“But you love me. Besides,” he said, a sly smile crossing his face, “you were clearly prepared...miss no underwear.” 

Your cheeks grew hot again. “Well I mean, I planned on getting laid at some point tonight. I just assumed it’d be later,” you said, giggling. 

“Oh, it will be,” Yoongi said with a wink. He put his hands on your hips and helped you hop off the counter as you finally moved forward to retrieve the wine glasses you’d been seeking before. You placed them in the basket with the rest of the items and handed the basket to Yoongi. 

“You’re insatiable. Carry this,” you said with a smile. 

“You[‘re no better. Yes ma’am,” he said, his face straight as ever but laughter sparkling in his eyes. Grabbing the blankets, you led him out your front door and up a staircase at the end of the hall. Two flights of stairs later, you pushed through the heavy door and found yourselves on the roof, a large flat area without seating or anything fancy, but with lots of space and, thankfully, privacy. You moved close to the low wall at the front of the building and began spreading out blankets, making a plush area for you to sit. Yoongi set the basket down in front of you and sat down on the blanket, spreading his legs and encouraging you to make yourself comfortable against him. As you did so, he brought the edges of the blankets over your laps, wrapping you in the blanket and then wrapping his arms around your torso. You pulled out your phone and quickly went to the website of the local radio station, who’d been promoting their New Years’ countdown for weeks. You settled back into Yoongi’s embrace and closed your eyes, savouring the feel of his arms around you and the music floating around you both. 

You didn’t realise you’d drifted off until you felt Yoongi squeezing your arm lightly. “Hey, sleeping beauty,” he said softly in your ear. “You’re gonna miss the countdown if you keep that up,” he said, pointing at the clock on your phone that indicated it was 11:55. 

You shook your head lightly. “Sorry, sorry,” you said. “I was just so comfortable and you’re keeping me so warm.” You giggled. “Leave it to me to get so stoked about New Years’ and then totally miss it.” 

Yoongi leaned forward to kiss your cheek. “It’d be on brand for you, but I’d never let you miss your favourite celebration,” he said softly into your ear. You shivered at the sensation and leaned back into him again, both of you admiring the clear, starry night as you waited for the radio’s countdown to begin. 

10…

9…

8…

7…

6…

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

The world exploded around you as fireworks went off, and when you turned towards Yoongi his face was illuminated. His hand slipped out of the blankets to cup your cheek and he placed a gentle kiss on your lips. When you broke apart he had a smile on his face. 

“Happy new year, Yoongi,” you whispered. 

“Happy new year, Y/N,” he answered, lifting his face to watch the fireworks. When you turned to do the same, he tugged you tightly into his chest, his hands sliding up and down your arms slowly, and you knew that if it was true that how you rang in the new year indicated how your year would go, the best part of your life was yet to come.

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 25

cruel summer masterlist

AN: This is the final chapter. Just an epilogue after this. Our Cruel Summer has come to an end (90k words later). I just wanted to thank everyone so much again for spending time reading, commenting, and messaging about this story. When I first started writing it in April, I had no idea I would come to get to know so many of you, and it’s been the most rewarding thing to be part of a fandom again. Taylor Swift hearts to all of you. xo.

Aelin doesn’t think she’s ever been this hung over, or this confused. The ghost of Rowan’s lips caresses her forehead as she lies down on the couch, sprawled in front of the television to watch some obstacle course challenge show that Dorian enjoys heckling.

After Rowan fled her house – yes, fled – she immediately went in search of her parents to find out what they’d been meeting with him about, but she received absolutely nothing in return.

“If Rowan wants to discuss it with you, I’m sure he will,” Rhoe had said with a traitorous, all too-knowing smirk.

Aelin wants to throttle him. She loves her dad, but she’s far too twisted up in her own emotions to be sated by his logical non-answer. Meanwhile, her mother isn’t even on the premises to be questioned. Hiding away in meetings, like a coward. She wants to know so badly.

She contemplates texting Rowan to ask. After all, he clearly opened up their channel of communications again with that picture of the two of them… right? But she can’t help but think her dad is right. If Rowan wanted to tell her what they talked about he would. The question is, what the hell could her parents want to talk to Rowan alone about? What kind of topic required a one-on-one meeting with one of their employees?

Aelin tries to relax, even nap for a bit, but anxiety plagues her brain. The not knowing is keeping her stomach in knots. So, when Dorian departs for the afternoon with a reassuring arm squeeze, Aelin retreats to her safe spot – the music room.

The late afternoon sun splays its warm rays across the piano, tendrils of sunlight curling around her and slowly helping dissipate her hangover. With a deep breath, Aelin spreads her fingers and takes off. She warms up with scales, trailing up and down the keys with her expert touch. She segues into one of her favorite pieces – Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. The pulsing methodical rhythm of the left hand keeps her centered as the dark somber tones float through the room.

The piece is sad, and it pierces her to the core. She lets her emotions flood through her hands as she tries to play out her complicated feelings for Rowan.

As she reaches the third movement, she lets her anxiety out into the frantic, technical workout for her fingers. The frenetic pace matches her rapid heartbeat, the worry and stress and heartbreak of the last few days taking over. She wants to cry. She wants to scream. She wants to let everything out. She gives into the heartache she feels, the stress from hiding, the shame of letting him go, the loneliness of being without him. It all comes pouring out in droves. She’s overwhelmed with her feelings. She knew she was sad, and to let it all out like this makes her feel like she’s bleeding out. She lets the music speak for her. And it speaks loudly.

As the final notes ring out, applause comes from behind her, and she gasps, startled by the intrusion.

“Sorry,” Rhoe apologizes, squeezing Aelin’s shoulders gently. “You were in the zone, huh?” he asks, and Aelin shrugs, still breathing hard from the musical marathon she just ran.

“Yeah,” she breathes heavily. “That was intense.”

“Maybe something lighter next?” Rhoe suggests, and Aelin smiles as her fingers take off at lightning speed for her favorite Mozart concerto. The complex finger work distracts her from her feelings momentarily as she performs for her dad.

When she turns around again, she’s surprised to see her dad has been joined by the rest of her family – her mom, Aedion, Lysandra, Evie and Gavin clap thunderously, appreciating her performance. She starts to stand to see if she can finally question her mom, but she’s interrupted as Gavin sprints toward the music bench, climbing next to her in the clumsy way only a five-year-old can.

“I wanna learn!” he says, looking up at her with his widest blue green eyes.

“You do?” she says, chuckling softly. He nods excitedly, and she smiles at her nephew’s enthusiasm.

Aelin’s family quickly disperses, her mom shouting out that dinner will be ready in an hour, but Aelin is entranced by her nephew’s gleeful smile.

“Teach me!” he demands happily.

“I think that piece might be a little too hard,” she explains, while placing his little fingers on the proper keys. “But, I think I know the perfect one…”

She begins showing him the middle C note and moves his thumb in a rhythmic pattern from there. She shows him the notes an octave higher, slowly performing the easy back and forth of the base.

“Like this?” he asks, starting to move his hands in time with hers.

“Just like that,” she says. He fumbles the keys a few times, and Aelin places her fingers over his to help, but soon enough he manages the bass line easily. Aelin can’t help but smile, her heart swelling with pride at how pleased Gavin looks with himself.

“Auntie Ae, look, I’m doing it!” he squeals, and she nods animatedly.

“Are you ready to turn it into a duet?” she asks, and Gavin crinkles his brow, suddenly looking very serious and so much like Aedion it takes Aelin out for a second.

“What’s a duet?” he asks thoughtfully, and Aelin tries her hardest to explain it in terms a five-year-old will understand.

“Well, you’ll keep playing your part that I just taught you,” she says, “And I’ll add a new part up here,” she says, wiggling her fingers over the higher keys. “And when you put it together, it makes the whole song.”

Gavin’s eyes get impossibly wide as she explains, until he’s practically vibrating on the bench next to her.

“You want to try?” she asks, and he shouts his enthusiasm loudly.

She lets Gavin start his part and play it two times through before coming in herself. She can’t help but sing along as she plays the jovial melody.

Heart and soul, I fell in love with you

Heart and soul, the way a fool would do, madly

Because you held me tight

And stole a kiss in the night

“There are WORDS?!” Gavin asks, incredulous, pausing his baseline.

Aelin nods and laughs, her heart lightening immensely as they start the second verse. The dark cloud of heartbreak that hung over her previous songs is notably gone, replaced with a much lighter one as she launches into the second verse.

Heart and soul, I begged to be adored

Lost control, and tumbled overboard, gladly

That magic night we kissed

There in the moon mist

Aelin’s cheeks flush as she helps Gavin pick up the pace of his playing. She looks down at her nephew with adoration. She suddenly feels so happy, she feels like she might float away, filled with the intoxicating glee. Her heart soars as she launches into the final verse.

But now I see, what one embrace can do

Look at me, it’s got me loving you madly

That little kiss you stole

Held all my heart and soul

Aelin is so caught up in her playing that she doesn’t even notice Aedion sit down on her other side and play the melody with her one last time, an octave above her. Aelin laughs loudly as Gavin’s mouth drops again.

“Daddy, you know this song?”

Aedion chuckles softly as they wrap up the song with a flourish.

“I remember when Nana Ashryver taught us how to first play Heart and Soul,” Aedion says. His shoulder leans gently int his sister’s. “You were even younger than Gavin.”

Aelin remembers it well. It was when she decided the music room was her favorite room.

“Look at you now,” Aedion says.

“Again, again!” Gavin chants from his spot on the bench, and Aelin and Aedion appease him, playing the song over and over until they’re all hoarse from singing too loud. Aelin is so happy she feels like her face hurts from smiling so much.

As they replay the song, Aelin trips up on the lyrics. Her voice cracks slightly as it hits her in a sudden flash. This feeling of happiness, the ease she feels at the piano, singing her heart out – it’s exactly how she feels when she’s with Rowan.

She never felt this way with Chaol. Never felt her heart pound against her ribs until they threatened to puncture her chest. Never missed him as soon as he was out of her sight. Never thought she would fall apart if she never saw him again. Never felt like she belonged with someone so fully.

When she and Chaol broke up, Aelin had forced herself to wallow – to play the part of the sad girl, but she realizes now that she’d never really felt that way. Each break up had been a relief, a small reprieve to the uncomfortable life she’d tried to shove herself into. It was just another thing she had lied to herself about.

“Oh my god,” Aelin laughs to herself as they wrap up their final run through of the song. She can’t believe how stupid she’s been. Truly, she’s an idiot.

An idiot who’s in love.

She wants to run and tell Rowan right now.

She loves him.

“Wash up for dinner, please!” Evalin shouts from the kitchen, interrupting her thought process, and Gavin sprints away, not bothering to give Aelin or Aedion another look.

“I see how it is,” Aelin laughs as she puts the piano lid down, covering the keys. Aedion gives her a pointed look.  “What?” she asks, wiping at her face, in case she has a piece of long forgotten burrito attached to her cheek that no one told her about.

“We were summoned for cheer up Aelin duty, and we had to do practically nothing. Look at you,” he says. “You’re glowing. You’re not pregnant, are you?” he asks, suddenly concerned, and Aelin groans and shoves him away.

“You were summoned?” She can’t imagine her family knows why she’s been in a mood for the last two days. “By who?”

“Dad,” Aedion finally admits. “Want to tell me what’s going on?” He wraps his arm around her shoulders, and Aelin leans into her brother’s warm side.

“I broke up with Rowan.”

“Huh.”

Aelin extracts herself from under Aedion’s arm and pokes him. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” Aedion pauses. Aelin stares, but Aedion gives nothing up. “Nothing!” he insists. “I liked him.”

“You did?” Aelin asks, perplexed. That’s not how their last conversation about Rowan went. “What about that whole fucking the gardener bit?”

Aedion pinches his nose and looks regretful. “I slept alone for a whole week for that comment, and I knew as soon as it was out of my mouth that it was wrong,” Aedion confesses. “He makes you happy.”

“Yeah, he does,” Aelin laughs sadly.

“But, you’re…. okay?” Aedion asks, and Aelin nods.

“Better than okay.”

Aedion shrugs. “Well, okay, then.”

At dinner, Gavin spends the entire time telling the family about his new penchant for piano, and Aelin tells him she has a few more pieces he can learn if he wants.

“We’d pay you for lessons,” Lysandra adds, and Aelin pauses mid-bite.

“You would?”

Lysandra nods. “Of course. We tried to get a teacher for Evie, but she was ‘too mean,’” Lysandra says in air quotes.

Evie pouts. “She was! She stretched my hands too far and cut my nails down.”

“I would never,” Aelin says seriously, winking at her niece.

“Seriously,” Lysandra follows up. “Think about it. We paid the last girl $100 an hour.” She looks at Gavin. “Would you like that, Gav? To learn piano with Auntie Ae?”

Gavin’s whole face lights up, and he even stops shoving mozzarella into his mouth to cheer loudly. “Yeah!”

Aelin smiles again at her nephew. And then looks around the table. At her family. Filled with CEOs. A teacher is a far cry from that. Not exactly a high-powered job, but she can’t help but think how much she enjoyed playing with Gavin. She thinks she might really love it. Plus, she could do it anywhere. Like. In Terrasen. Where Rowan lives. She clears her throat and look at her mom.

“I think I might want to do that. To teach music.”

She pauses nervously as a small v forms between Evalin’s eyebrows. “Really?”

Aelin nods.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most glamorous job…” she trails off, watching her parents exchange silent glances. “But, I could start with private lessons while I work toward a teaching degree, and, I think I’d really love it.”

Evalin’s frown turns into a blinding smile as she nods at her daughter. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“You do?” Aelin asks, positively shocked at her mother’s warm reception. “Even though it’s not being on a charity board or working with you?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Evalin replies, slightly perturbed, but Aelin can’t help herself. Her mother has been trying to marry her off to the highest bidder since she was eighteen. “Do you think I’m that much of a snob?”

Aelin snorts, ignoring the way her mother angrily spears the tomato on her plate and continues.

“It might not be glamorous,” Evalin continues, “But teaching is one of the most noble professions. You know I’ve always supported funding arts education.”

Aelin pauses, wondering if her mom has more to add, but she doesn’t. The table switches topics to their schedule for the remaining three days before they leave. Aelin is blown away. She must be gaping, because Aedion squeezes her hand under the table comfortingly.

After dinner, Gavin immediately pulls Aelin back into the music room, wanting to start his lessons as soon as possible. Aelin is helpless against her nephew and plays with him until well after his bedtime. With every replay of Heart and Soul, Aelin feels her heart grow bigger, swelling with the feeling that went unidentified in her stomach for so many weeks.

By the time everyone leaves the house, Aelin feels like she’s going to explode, needing to talk to Rowan. To just blurt it out and tell him. But she knows that’s not exactly the right thing to put into a text. Instead, she gathers her strength and texts him a different question.

I know you asked for space, but can we talk tomorrow?

She types it quickly and then shuts her eyes quickly, as if she doesn’t look then it’ll prevent it from hurting when he doesn’t text back.

Her phone vibrates in her lap, and she garners the courage to crack an eye open and peek at his reply.

You really wanna know what your parents talked to me about, huh?

Aelin bites her lip, stopping the massive grin that threatens to take over her face. Her cheeks warm with a blush, realizing she’s texting with the man she loves.

I mean, yes, obviously. But this isn’t about that. I swear.

She holds her breath and waits again.

I’m busy during lunch, but I can stop by after work?

Aelin frowns. It’s not exactly the reply she wanted. And why would he be busy during lunch? Was he having lunch with someone else? Aelin’s heart pounds nervously. No, she needs to talk to him sooner than that. She thinks a full twenty-four hours of waiting might kill her.

But Aelin takes a deep breath, realizing that Rowan has put up with a lot more waiting for her than twenty-four hours. The least she can do is wait until he gets off work.

We’ll be at the park tomorrow. Find me when you finish your shift?

Rowan sends back two thumbs up emojis, and Aelin clutches the phone against her pounding chest.

Tomorrow she’s going to tell Rowan she loves him.

She falls asleep, comforted by that thought.

But when Aelin wakes up, she can’t help but groan. Rain splatters against her window, a soft grey overcast dampening her spirits as well as the ground outside.

The park still runs in the rain, but it’s absolutely no fun, since they close down any ride that could potentially be affected by the weather. Essentially, the only ride that’s open is the log flume, and Aelin knows her family won’t want to go to the park just for that.

She groans internally.

Of course this would happen.

Aelin paces around the kitchen with her coffee, hoping against all hopes that the rain will dissipate if she wills it to. But, instead of fading, the clouds darken even further, giving way to even heavier torrents.

She feels like a trapped animal.

Nothing distracts her – not playing the piano, not getting ready or putting on a full face of makeup. She’s so wound up, even a delicious lunch of her favorite potato salad and grilled chicken doesn’t help soothe her nerves.

By mid-afternoon, Aelin’s started counting down hours until Rowan’s work ends. Only four more hours. She grumbles, staring at the clock, hoping she can somehow speed up time.

“Aelin, sit down, you’re doing that anxious pacing again,” her dad chastises from behind his newspaper.

Aelin tries to pause, but she finds herself flicking her foot in tendus again, unable to still completely.

Her dad smiles softly. “Want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Evalin asks, emerging from her office to refill her mug of coffee.

“Why Aelin looks so nervous today,” Rhoe laughs, and Evalin’s eyes widen in excitement.

“Oh, did Rowan tell you?” she begins, but Rhoe’s pointed stare cuts her off.

“Tell me what?” Aelin explodes, and Rhoe shakes his head and laughs softly again, hiding his face behind the paper. Evalin frowns again.

“Well, if he hasn’t told you, what are you so keyed up about?” Evalin sighs, as if she’s exasperated with her daughter. Aelin scoffs. No one is more exasperated with anyone at this moment than she is with her mother. Her secret keeping mother!  

“I’m leaving!” Aelin growls, finally snapping. She doesn’t care that it’s raining out. She needs to see Rowan right now.

“Where are you going?” Evalin shouts out after her, but Aelin is already halfway out the door. “Aelin, take a jacket! You’re going to get soaked!”

She doesn’t pause to realize her mother’s parting comment was more than right as she stumbles along the wet sand. Rain soaks through her t-shirt and pelts down on her head, wetting her hair. By the time she makes it to Playland, she’s sure she looks like some kind of drowned animal. Her sneakers squeak loudly with each step, her toes filled with water, and she doesn’t even want to imagine what her face of makeup looks like.

But she doesn’t have time to think anything through. She’s a woman on a mission.

“Aelin!” a surprised voice says, definitely shocked by her rain-drenched appearance.

In a stroke of luck, Lorcan is seated at the admissions booth. “Rowan?” she pants, hoping the rest of her question is understood.

Lorcan frowns. “Not sure.”

“What do you mean not sure? Aren’t you in control of his schedule?” Aelin knows it would be wrong, but she feels like smacking Lorcan.

She sees him hide a tiny smile as he shrugs. “He’s pulling tarps off the rides,” Lorcan explains, pointing to the sun peeking through the clouds, the rain finally coming to a stop. “He could be anywhere.”

“Useless!” Aelin shouts, agitated, and Lorcan snorts loudly as he slaps a wristband onto her hand.

“Enjoy your search,” he snickers, and Aelin huffs as she stalks across the slick grass and puddles of mud to find Rowan.

Her shoes squelch with the newly acquired mud, and she struggles not to slip as she walks at a brisk pace through the park. For the first time in her life, Aelin regrets how large the park grounds are. She circles the entire place, with no Rowan in sight. On her second loop, she goes further into the park and walks by the bumper cars and the carousel, which have no tarps on them, and deduces that she must at least be in the right direction.

Through the light drizzle of rain, the sun finally starts to shine, and Aelin smiles as she watches a rainbow take shape over the park. Her eyes follow the colorful beams, watching as they curve down, all the way to the middle of the fair grounds. She holds her breath as she spots a bright silver blonde head of hair just beyond the rainbow. Her own personal pot of gold.

A similarly rain-soaked Rowan rolls up the sides of the eating tent and affixes them to the top methodically. Aelin barely has time to process his appearance before she picks up her pace and heads toward him, a smile stretched across her lips.  

“Rowan!” she shouts, breaking into a jog.

Confused, Rowan glances over his shoulder, his eyes widening at the approaching girl. She knows she must look ridiculous, water-logged, eyes wild and beaming, but she can’t stop.

As she tries to increase the speed of her jog, her foot catches on a slick patch of grass, and Aelin shrieks loudly as she attempts to stop her skidding, but it’s no use. Aelin’s feet slide out from beneath her, and she closes her eyes tightly as she falls to the muddy ground with an unceremonious thud.

She groans, feeling the wetness soak through her shorts and underwear. She opens her eyes and realizes she’s skidded directly into a watery pool of mud.

“Aelin!” Rowan shouts, concerned. She lifts her head, laughing, as he approaches her with worry. “Are you okay?” he asks. His hands stretch out, and she takes them in hers, helping hoist herself off the ground. She shakes her head, her wet hair still stringy around her shoulders. This was not exactly the reunion she’d anticipated for them.

“I’m fine,” she laughs, trying to brush the clumps of mud from her ass and thighs. She crosses her arms over her chest self-consciously. She can’t believe this is how this is happening. But she can’t turn back. She’s here. And she’s no longer being a liar or a coward.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, wiping droplets of rain from his own hair, and Aelin takes a deep breath and centers herself.

“I told you I’d be at the park,” she says, and she watches as Rowan’s eyes crinkle in confusion.

“In the rain?” He pauses, looking her over. She doesn’t even want to think about what she looks like. She knows it’s a mess. “I just assumed—”

“I love you,” she blurts out, cutting him off.

It feels so good to say it, she barely notices Rowan’s soft lips parting in surprise. She’s not ready for him to reply, so she just keeps talking.

“I’m an idiot. And a liar. Of course I love you, Rowan.”

She can feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She knew she’d be emotional, but – gods, this is something else. She feels like she’s been possessed by some vulnerable alien. But that doesn’t stop her. She will get this out, even if it kills her.

“I knew it as soon as you kissed me that this wasn’t just for the summer. This is forever,” she barrels on as she points between the two of them. “And I know we have a lot of stuff to figure out, because we never talked about any of the logistics of anything, and I know that’s completely my fault because I was just… really at good at pretending like I didn’t have to,” she rambles, getting faster and faster as she logics her way into convincing Rowan to accept the possibility of a real relationship. “But I don’t want to leave. I’m going to teach piano, and I can do that anywhere. And I want to stay in Terrasen. With you.”

Aelin pauses, breathing hard. Her arms cross over her chest tighter, squeezing herself and acting as a defense shield against the thick silence between her and Rowan.

She looks at Rowan’s face. His eyes are still crinkled in confusion, and his lashes flutter as he blinks rapidly. His pursed lips haven’t moved since they first parted, and she can see the tension in his neck as he strains to breathe.

She can feel her heartbeat angrily thumping against her crossed arms, and she takes another deep breath.

“I really wish you’d say something,” she says quietly. “Anything.”

Rowan rubs at his face, covering his mouth, and she notices how tired he looks. “Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to move to Terrasen,” he says finally, and Aelin feels like a dagger has pierced her straight through the chest.

Oh Gods, she’s too late.

So this is what genuine heartbreak feels like. Aelin is so busy feeling wounded, she almost doesn’t hear the rest of Rowan’s sentence.

“…because I’m going to be living in Adarlan.”

Aelin looks up and is shocked to see Rowan’s green eyes twinkling as he reveals his smile from behind his hand.

“Wait, what?”

Aelin is so confused. Her head is spinning with all kinds of thoughts.

“I didn’t want to say anything to you until it was official,” Rowan says. “But, I’m going to be working for the Ashryver Corporation as an app developer. I interviewed at lunch, and they called about an hour ago to give me my official offer.”

The pieces start to click into place. “That’s what my mom wanted to talk to you about?”

He nods, and she watches as his ears turn pink as he stares her down.

“So, I shouldn’t move to Terrasen,” Aelin says slowly, and Rowan’s smile widens as he shakes his head. “Because you’ll be in Adarlan.” She takes another long breath. “Where I live.” He takes a step forward, and her breath hitches.

“Yes.”

“Rowan, they’re making your app?” she asks, and he nods but doesn’t smile. “That’s so amazing, you should be so proud of—"

“Say it again,” he whispers, cutting her off, and she watches his eyes darken. She wonders what he wants to hear for a second, thoughts bouncing around her brain as she’s assaulted by his scent as he hovers over her.

“Hm?” She can’t think straight as she tilts her head up towards his, his lips dangerously close to hers now.

“Say it again,” he repeats and wraps his arms around her waist, sliding his hands into the mud-caked back pockets of her shorts.

Oh.

Aelin grins and whispers back.

“I love you.”

His lips are on hers before she can finish her sentence, parted lips sliding onto her damp face as he pulls her closer. She snakes her arms around his neck and smiles against his mouth. Their kiss deepens, unencumbered by stress or worry for the first time all summer, and Aelin can’t stop herself from lifting herself up. Her legs spring off the squishy ground, and she wraps her legs around his waist, tugging him closer and closer, until she can feel his heart pounding against hers.

His lips are soft but demanding against hers, and they feel like coming home. She kisses him harder, his mouth pliable under hers.

Aelin doesn’t think she’s ever felt this happy ever.

As Rowan’s tongue swipes against hers, she clutches at him tighter. He leans her back, and she’s so consumed in the feeling of him against her that she barely notices that he’s placed her down on the closest table inside the eating tent. His hands drag upward and knot themselves into her wet hair, and she parts her lips further, breathing him in. She wants to live in this moment forever.

All too soon, Rowan finally pulls back. He pulls his wet hands from her hair and slides them to her cheeks. They’re cold against her flushed cheeks, warmed from his thorough kisses, and she can’t help but smile widely at him. His face reflects the same expression back at her. Two grinning idiots.

As if he can’t bear to apart from her for too long, Rowan leans in again, pecking a flurry of kisses all over her face – her cheeks and forehead and eyes, and finally one last lingering kiss on her lips.

“I love you,” Aelin says again. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to stop saying it.

“I love you, too,” Rowan says, his voice hoarse and breathy.

Rowan ducks his head, as if to kiss her again, but they’re interrupted by a loud whistle. They look over their shoulders, and see a frowning Lorcan, but there’s no real ire in his expression.

“If you two are done making out on my table, Rowan, can you head to the ticket booth to do your job?” Lorcan rests his hands on his hips, trying his very hardest to look annoyed, but Aelin can see the barest of smiles threatening to break through.

“Yes sir,” Rowan answers with a nod. He looks at Aelin as she hops off the table and links her arm with his, leaning into his side. He immediately wraps his arm around her shoulders, neither of them anxious to let the other go. “What are you going to do with the rest of your afternoon?” he asks.

“Anxious to get rid of me that soon?” she snorts.

Rowan looks shocked. “No! Of course not, I just meant—”

Aelin laughs and kisses his hand, which is tangled with hers. “I know, I’m kidding.” She pauses. “I thought I could hang out with you until your shift is done?” she asks nervously. “And then, we can go back to my house and tell my parents about us.”

Rowan’s smile nearly blinds her. “Yeah?” He squeezes her hand.

“Yeah,” she smiles back.

“And then I should shower. Because I’m covered in mud,” Aelin snorts, and Rowan laughs loudly and tugs her closer.

“I love you, even covered in mud,” he says.

“Yeah?” she asks, looking up at him, eyes wide in wonder. How could she have kept herself from feeling this all summer?

“Oh yeah,” he laughs, brushing a clump of mud from her shorts.

Because it’s a slow park day, Rowan is blessed to be the only one taking tickets, which means that Aelin can sit next to him, as close as she wants. His thumb rubs up and down the back of her soft skin, and Aelin only holds his hand tighter as they make their way to the booth. She’s not letting go of him any time soon.

Rowan pauses a few feet away from admissions, and his hand becomes a vice grip around hers.

“What?” Aelin leans into his side further, her chin resting against his arm.

“Uh…” he starts, sounding nervous, his eyes flicking from Aelin out to the parking lot.

“Oh!” Aelin is shocked to see her entire family, walking toward them.

Rowan starts to remove his hand from hers, but Aelin shakes her head and holds it tighter.

“Are you sure?” Rowan asks, his eyes locked on Aedion for some reason. “I wasn’t anticipating telling your brother about us until we were married and I was a more permanent fixture.”

Aelin’s mouth drops. “Aedion likes you.”

Rowan shakes his head. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”

“What have you heard?” Aelin asks, curious.

Rowan groans. “I may have overheard a conversation where he… wasn’t so enthused about our relationship.”

Aelin freezes and stares at him. “You came that night. To pick me up from Aedion’s.”

Rowan nods, grimacing slightly as he tracks Aelin’s approaching family, nearly to the entrance now.

“And you left…”

Rowan laughs, but it sounds pained. “And I’m now remembering all the reasons we didn’t tell your parents in the first place.” He pauses. “Maybe we should keep this a secret for a little longer.”

Aelin stops them, pulling him so he’s facing her and looking away from her family. “Rowan,” she begins emphatically. “What Aedion said was horrible, and if I’d known that you heard it, I would have told you a lot sooner that he didn’t mean it. But even if he did, it doesn’t matter. Because I want to be with you. Because you’re so much better than all of them. You’ve worked so hard for everything you have, and you’re so incredibly talented and kind and real. And I love you.”

Rowan looks like he wants to protest, but he begrudgingly releases a small, “Fine.”

Aelin is so taken with his acceptance that she can’t resist wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him again. He melts into her, arms locked around each other in a tight embrace, until they hear a throat clearing beside them.

“Well, well, well… what do we have here?” Aedion’s low voice jokes, and despite Rowan stiffening beneath her, Aelin presses one more kiss to his lips as she flicks off her brother. Aedion cackles loudly.

“Aelin!” her mother cries out. She sounds so horrified and shocked, that Aelin can’t help but finally pull away to explain herself. “You’re covered in mud!” her mother chastises, and Aelin cannot believe that her mom just walked up to her kissing Rowan, and that is what she has to say.

“I fell?” Aelin says by way of explanation. Evalin shakes her head disapprovingly, and Aelin realizes that there are some things her mom will always care about – like her appearance, and being polite, and manners. But, apparently, Aelin is free to live her life the way she wants to, and somehow that realization is worth everything.

“Rowan,” Evalin says with a smile, ignoring the flaming blush crawling up his cheeks and ears. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

Rowan smiles bashfully and tucks his chin into his chest. “Yes, ma’am.”

Rhoe leans in conspiratorially. “Make sure you counter offer their salary. They’ll lowball you every time.”

Evalin looks positively offended at her husband’s comment. “We would never! We value all our employees and pay them very fairly,” she says, and Rhoe snickers again, wrapping his arms around his wife.

Aelin can’t believe that no one has commented on her tongue being shoved down Rowan’s throat mere minutes ago. And she’s even more surprised when Evalin tells Rowan he should come over for a celebratory dinner after work.

“I’d love to,” he accepts with a shy smile, and Aelin can’t resist kissing him again. This time on his shoulder.

Surprisingly, it’s Gavin who is the first to speak up.

“Auntie Ae, did you just kiss Rowan?” His little face crinkles in confusion. He has a moment of understanding, and his eyes widen with excitement. “Is Rowan going to be my Uncle?”

She’s not sure how to answer, and she can feel her cheeks warming under her family’s scrutiny, smiles hidden into each other’s shoulders as Aelin struggles with how to answer her nephew.

“Probably,” Rowan says with a shrug as Aelin answers, “Yes.”

“Probably?” Aelin gapes at him as Rowan gapes right back, repeating her words at her. “YES?!”

Aedion laughs loudly as he scoops Gavin into his arms. “Do you think they’ve always been this dysfunctional?” He looks at the couple stammering and blushing in front of him and then back to the small child in his arms. Gavin, of course, doesn’t know what his father means, but nods seriously regardless. “Let’s go get some cotton candy.”

Gavin shouts his affirmations, sprinting into the park, the rest of the family following close behind. No one comments when Aelin takes a seat next to Rowan in the ticket booth, but Rhoe winks at his daughter.

Aelin is grateful for the slow trickle of patrons, leaning over to kiss Rowan whenever she feels like it.

By the time Rowan’s shift ends, she can feel her lips starting to chap with how often they’ve been attached to his, but she can’t bring herself to care at all.

Aelin is reluctant to leave Rowan’s side when they get back to her house, but she knows she really does need to shower. She still has dried patches of mud on her legs, and her hair is a tangled stringy mess.

She showers as quickly as she can, and when she returns downstairs she’s shocked to see Rowan laughing with her entire family, as if he’s fit there the whole time. She doesn’t know what she was ever worried about. Everything seems so stupid now, looking back. How much pain she caused them both for absolutely nothing. Because of her own stupid insecurities. Because of her need for her parents’ approval. She’s so incredibly grateful Rowan is as forgiving as he is. She’s not sure she would have been as kind to herself.

Her mood lifts completely as Rowan smiles brightly when he spots her, freshly showered and in clean clothes.

“So, how long has this been going on?” Evalin finally asks, of course, just as Aelin takes a sip of her wine. Aelin splutters, coughing wildly as she chokes on the alcohol, and she glares at Rowan, who smirks beside her, completely unaffected as he rubs her back.

“When did I catch you climbing out of Aelin’s window again?” Lysandra asks Rowan nonchalantly, and then it’s Rowan’s turn to choke. “Must have been back in June…”

“Oh Gods,” Rowan begins to apologize to Aelin’s parents, who are resisting laughing themselves.

“I saw him only about two weeks of being here, I think,” Rhoe finally pipes up. “He didn’t even see me on the patio.”

Rowan’s face is beet red as he tries to hide it in Aelin’s shoulder, and she can feel herself reddening, too. This is a nightmare. But the best kind.

She leans into Rowan reassuringly and smiles when she feels his lips brush across the top of her head.

After dinner, Rowan politely thanks her parents, and asks Aelin if she wants to go out to the beach to stargaze. Aelin nods enthusiastically, taking his hand and letting him drag her out to the edge of the sand. She pulls the oversized pool chaise and leans it all the way back, motioning for Rowan to sit.

He does, and she climbs onto his lap, relishing the way his arms immediately circle her and pull her close. Because that’s something he can do now, even in sight of her parents. She leans her head against his chest and sighs happily.

“I’m sorry,” Aelin whispers.

“For what?” he asks, and Aelin tilts her head up, brushing her lips against his stubble as she continues.

“Everything.” She laughs. “If you’d told me I was too late, I would have accepted it, you know. I put you through hell this summer.”

Rowan laughs softly and pulls her closer. “If this is hell, I think I’m doing okay.” He pauses and looks at the sky. “I don’t’ know if you can understand this, but… I’ve never quite felt like I was good enough. The first time I stepped into this house, I’ve never been more terrified of anything before. The level of inadequacy…” He laughs at himself. “I was so afraid I was going to fuck this whole thing up. My job. My life, pretty much.” He pauses again, thinking hard. Aelin wants to interrupt, but she lets him finish. It’s so rare that Rowan opens up about anything. And she wants to hear every single word of his inner most thoughts. “But, you changed that. Tonight, I sat with your parents and I honestly thought we’d be talking about my job, but all we talked about was you. They wanted to know why we kept it a secret. Because they couldn’t fathom us thinking they wouldn’t approve of me. And I’ve never felt like I belonged more. I belong with you.” She relishes in his words and nods. She feels the exact same way. And she tells him as much.

They sit together, staring at the sky for a while, kissing occasionally, happy to just be, until Rowan’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket.

“Sorry,” he apologizes as he pulls it out. He snorts and shows Aelin the text from Manon.

U ALIVE?!

He leans in and kisses Aelin. She’s sure it’s supposed to be a quick kiss, but she can’t resist deepening it. She smiles against his lips as she sees the camera flash go off behind her closed lids.

He sends the picture of them smiling into each other’s mouths as a text reply to Manon, who immediately replies with a vomit emoji.

GROSS.

“You do belong,” Aelin says, and Rowan smiles softly again. She’ll tell him again and again if that’s what it takes.

“So, Uncle Rowan, huh?” he teases her, chuckling as he slides his phone back into his shorts, and Aelin shoots him an uncomfortable glance.

“Yes,” she replies, and she can’t help but smile as Rowan leans in and kisses her again.

If this is the beginning of forever, she’ll take it.

THE END

~*~*~*~

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[milazka]

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐁. 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟏.𝟕𝐤+

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐱.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : -

𝐚/𝐧 : 𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐢 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐢 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞. 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧, 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞...

——————————————————————

Your feet pressed against the dashboard, you breathe in the sea air rushing into the van. Sitting in the passenger seat, your head swings to the rhythm of the music chosen by your boyfriend.

John Booker Routledge.

Wavy brown hair, surfer style and a charming smile; he was literally the boy you imagined in your dreams since you were little. You met a few months ago, thanks to Pope. Your father and Heyward were having a business meeting together and he had brought you with him. You got to know Pope a little bit more, talking with him on the dock while your fathers were inside. Pope offered  you to spend the afternoon on the water with him and his friends and you accepted; you liked meeting new people. That’s when you met John B; you both fell in love at first sight. Since then, you went on a few dates and you had exchanged your first I love you. You wanted to take your time in this relationship, it was your first one.

 “Y/n? do you want to go back to my place, or do you need to go home?” He asks you, his hand resting on your bare thigh.

 “We can go to your place, my dad is having a meeting with Heyward at our house.” You respond, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

 “Perfect, I want to show you something.” He smiles.

 He parks the van in front of the Chateau and comes open your door, holding out his hand to you like a gentleman. John B puts the straps of his backpack on one of his shoulders and squeezes your hand in his, dragging you towards the back of the house. You walk on a small path in the forest, your eyes wandering everywhere to observe the beauty of the nature which surrounds you. After a few minutes of walking, you arrive in front of a wooden shed high in the trees.

 “Wow, it’s beautiful.” You compliment as he starts climbing in the ladder.

 “My dad built it for me and JJ when we were little. We have always maintained it well so it can remain habitable.” He explains to you, grabbing your hand once you arrive at the top of the ladder.

 The cabin consists of a single large room with two windows. A few empty beer cans are lying on the floor near a gray futon. Half-melted candles rest on a small wooden coffee table. You run your hand over the designs that decorate the table, recognizing JJ's style. John B sits on the futon as you continue to observe the objects in the cabin. You smile at a frame containing a photo of JJ and John B when they were young.

 “We were six years old on this one.” John B says, displaying a nostalgic face.

 “You were already cute.” You say, making him giggle.

 You seat on a cushion in front of him and he takes your hand in his, making small circles with his thumb on it. In peaceful silence, he watches you with his hazel eyes, making you blush and bow your head, a bit intimidated by his gaze.

“Did I ever tell you that you were beautiful?” He says to you with a smile.

“Many times.” You answer, smiling back.

He pulls you towards him, making you take place on his thighs. His hand brushes against your cheek before settling on the back of your neck, pulling your head close to his face. He gently presses his lips against yours and you slowly start to move in sync with him. Your hands slip into his hair as he ran his hand under your long sleeve sweater, rubbing your back up and down. While his hand rests on the tie of your bikini top, you move your head back, breaking the kiss.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” John B asks you with a soft voice.

You sigh; you knew that one day or another you would need to have this conversation with him.

“I’ve never done it.” You mutter, hiding your face in your hands.

He places his hands on yours, gently moving them away from your face to lock his gaze in yours.

 “It’s okay, Y/n/n. It doesn't change anything, sweetheart.” He whispers to you.

 “I’m just scared that I’ll lose control and I’ve never been comfortable enough with someone to do it.” You explain to him with a sad smile.

 “I find it beautiful that you respected yourself and that you didn't flinch under social pressure to do it even if you were not ready.” He reassures you.

You smile, appeased to see that it doesn't change anything between you two.

“How was yours?” You ask, having never question him about it before.

 “It was super special.” He giggles. “A tourist from Cincinnati. We met at a party and five minutes into it, she just… asked. So, we went back to her condo and it lasted a total of twenty-five seconds.” He pouts, making a small reverence with his hand.

 “Wow, a great first experience.” You sarcastically say, smiling at him

 “I guess you could say that.” He smiles back. “We’ll do it when you’re ready.” John B adds.

He is about to add something, but you cut him with a passionate kiss. John B opens his hide widely as you push him against the back of the futon. You start to roll your hips, grinding against his crotch. He grunts softly against your lips and grabs you by the waist, amplifying the movement against the bulge in his pants.

“Fuck babe, you’re sure that you want to do it now?” He whines, breathing a bit faster.

 “I want you to be my first, John B.” You clearly state.

He smiles to you and cup your face with his hands, deepening the kiss. You unbutton his eternal Hawaiian shirt while he removes your shirt. His eyes flicks, admiring the sight of your almost-bare chest. You lay your hands on his tan chest, feeling his muscular pecs under your hands. He makes you stand up and slip your shorts along your legs after unbuttoning them, leaving you in your simple black panties. John B's mouth attacks your thighs, leaving a few wet kisses on your skin. He sits you back on him, peppering soft kisses on your neck. You are surprised by the groan that escapes from your lips when you feel his hard crotch against your womanhood.

 “Unbuckle my belt.” He directs you, knowing that you're not used to it.

He removes his shorts, revealing the bulge stretching the fabric of his boxers. You gulp; you knew he was well equipped, but not that much. He takes you under your thighs and lay you down onto the mattress. A moan slips between your lips as he begins to rub his bulge against the fabric that is still covering your core.

 “Is it okay if I take it off?” John B asks you, pointing your panties with his finger.

 You nod, taking a deep breath when you feel his hands grab the edge of your panties. He slides them down your legs while leaving kisses down your neck and your stomach.

 “Already wet for me, sweetheart.” He winks at you, making you blush.

He spreads your legs and slowly introduce a finger in you, making you tense. He slowly starts moving in and out your entrance and start rubbing his thumb on your little nerves ball. You slowly relax, putting your hands on his shoulders as you moan against the crook of his neck. You feel some warmth in your stomach as he pumps you with two of his fingers. After a few seconds, he stops fingering you and grabs a glass jar under the table, taking one of the small packages.

 “It’s JJ’s, and don’t worry, I changed the sheet.” He clarifies by seeing the look on your face.

 He removes his boxers, revealing his erection on which he rolls the condom. John B position himself between your thighs, aligning himself in front of your entrance.

 “Try to relax, sweetheart, and tell me if it hurts. I’ll go slowly.” He warns you after kissing the tip of your nose.

 Leaning on his forearms on each side of your chest, he lies above you, rubbing his cock against your clit before placing it at the opening of your womanhood. You get tense when you feel him slowly slide inside you. You bite your bottom lips; the pain is worse than you thought. A few tears escape from the corner of your eyes.

 “I’m sorry baby.” He whispers to you, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

 “It-it’s not your fault.” You say to him. “I’m just not used to your… size.”

 “Do you want me to try to move a bit?” He asks you.

 You take a deep breath and nod. Your face clench when he slowly withdraws.

 “Keep going.” You encourage him, grabbing onto his shoulders.

 He kisses you tenderly, trying to make you forget the pain as he begins to move back and forth in you. The pain gradually decreases, your body adjusting to his size. You dig your nails into his biceps when pain turns into pleasure, making you moan harder.

 “You like it?” He smirks, his jaw clenched as he slams more vigorously into you.

 “Fuck yes.” You groan, holding on to his shoulders.

 “Do you wanna try another position?” He asks.

You nod and he slows down before pulling back. He turns you around suddenly, making you drop a little squeak. On your knees and leaning on your forearms, he thrusts in and out of you, hitting your g-spot. It hurts you a bit, you’re not totally used to the feeling of his cock inside you.

 “Fuck baby, you’re so tight.” He grunts, grabbing you by the waist.

  You moan his name, your hands clutching the sheets. John B thrusts deeper and you feel that you’re close to your first orgasm.

 “J-John, fuck!” You scream, feeling your pussy clench around him.

 “Oh fuck, baby!” He groans, a few seconds later.

 He pulls out of you and drops himself on the mattress, still breathing heavily. You lie down by his side and he pulls you closer to him with his arm around your shoulders.

 “Was it like you expected?” He asks you.

 “Better. I'm glad I waited and did it with you.” You respond, lifting your head to meet his hazel eyes.

 “I'm honored that I was your first, sweetheart.”

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