#and of course for that delicious tension and giving the new characters their leg room so the cameo aspect didn't draw focus away | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

exoticarmyofcrowns · 5 years ago

Text

sing for me | kth

pairing: taehyung x fem!reader

summary: you have been living with your roommate for well over a year and the unresolved sexual tension between the two of you finally comes to a head

genre: romance, smut (VERY 18+ not for the littles), roommates au

warnings: masturbation, vouyerism??, fingering, thigh riding, attempted dirty talk, breath play, slight power play???, excessive use of the word “baby” and other pet names, kinda awkward discussion of feelings thrown in bc my characters never shut up when i want them to get it on sorry

word count: ~6.6k

a/n: hello~ um... i have no explanation for this. i am like half ashamed and half proud of this??? idek man. all i know is that i couldn’t have done it without @sugaerie so thank you so much my queen i love uuuu

You step through the door of your apartment, feet practically screaming with relief as you kick off your shoes.

Work was really kicking your ass lately. Add that together with the stress of grad school and you had a deadly concoction not even your favorite tea and copious amount of ibuprofen could protect you from. Your job as a cashier was pretty easy, you can’t lie, but constantly standing and running around the store did a number on your poor feet. Thank god you had weekends off—a perk of having worked there so long you practically had the manager wrapped around your pinky when it came time for scheduling—so you could sleep in for once.

Tossing your keys on the counter, you spare a glance at the clock above the stove as you walk into your small kitchen. It’s about a quarter to midnight. You figure Taehyung is still out with his friends, hitting up one of the bars downtown.

You sigh heavily at the thought of your roommate. Not because anything wrong with him. Taehyung is nothing short of incredible. He’s sweet and kind, always greeting you with the most adorable boxy smile that makes you feel like the only person in the universe. People gravitate toward him just as easily as he draws them in, a natural warmth that instantly puts others at ease in his presence. He’s generous and thoughtful, never missing an opportunity to surprise you at work with a coffee or just to see you. Those shifts are your favorites and maybe you’re a little spoiled because you often find yourself glancing at the entrance more often than not, trying to see if you can spot his dark, curly head from your register.

Not to mention Taehyung is incredibly stunning. Long dark curls frame his face in the most intimidatingly beautiful way it’s often hard to look away from him. He’s got piercing dark eyes that can stare right into your soul but that also crinkle beautifully at the corners when he smiles. His fashion sense is killer, obscure brands and fabrics lining his closet almost like a museum. You’re not sure how but he can wear just about anything and still manage to look like he just stepped off a runway.

He works as a freelance photographer and has quite the sizeable following on social media. He’s passionate about his work and it shows in the quality of his photos. You know next to nothing about photography but even you can see that the beauty and skill with which he wields his camera is nothing short of magical. Commissions are not hard to come by for him, though you’re more than positive it has just as much to do with Taehyung himself as it does his beautiful portfolio.

No, there is absolutely nothing wrong with Taehyung.

Only that he’s perfect and you have a massive crush on him.

Exhaling tiredly, you run a heavy hand down your face. Anyone else would be ecstatic about having such a wonderful, attractive roommate but you know things like this can only end in disaster. More than anything, Taehyung is your friend—your best friend, you would argue—and involving feelings into your relationship can only end poorly. The whole roommates thing just adds another layer of complication that is better left alone. You don’t shit where you eat, after all.

But it’s difficult. Taehyung is just so nice and likeable it’s unreal. You often find your thoughts wandering to dangerous places when you both are curled up on the couch together during movie nights, blankets and pillows and snacks scattered all over the living room, while he curls his body around you without a second thought. He’s naturally tactile, you try to remind yourself in an effort to calm your racing pulse but then he’ll laugh at something happening in the movie, his cheeks plumping up adorably, and you know you’re a lost cause as you feel your heart melt all over again.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to ignore your feelings for your roommate and you know something has to give eventually. In the last couple of weeks, there seemed to have been a shift in the air whenever you were around each other. Taehyung was still your adorable and playful friend but the hugs seemed longer, the touches more tender and lingering. You even think you’ve caught him staring at you a few times, a strange new darkness simmering beneath the chocolate irises.

Flushing with embarrassment and shame, you bury your face into your hands. Of course not. You’re just being ridiculously optimistic. You pull out a clean glass from the cupboard and fill it with water from the sink, hoping to dampen the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Cleaning up, you decide to pamper yourself with a long hot shower complete with a nice sugar scrub and an in-shower face mask. You even spring for a shave, already excited for the feel of your sheets against the smooth, moisturized expanse of your legs. It’s the little things.

You hum lightly under your breath, already feeling the residual tension from the week bleed out as you gently massage your favorite lotion into your skin. Finishing up, you feel much more relaxed and so wonderfully clean you can’t help the smile that graces your lips as you move to head back to your room.

“___.”

It’s faint, so faint you think you imagine it but it still makes you freeze as you step out of the bathroom. Glancing down the short hallway that leads to your room, you blink for several seconds and wait to see if you hear it again. When nothing happens, you feel your heart resume its normal pace before rolling your eyes at yourself and continuing on to your room.

“___.”

This time it’s unmistakable and you can’t help the way the sound of your name makes you jump in fear. Now you’re in full-on panic mode and you anxiously scan the apartment. Your eyes catch on the faint light emanating from Taehyung’s room and you relax slightly. How had you not realized he was home already?

Your relief quickly morphs into confusion. Why would Taehyung be calling for you? Did he need something? Was he hurt? Stifling your self-induced panic, you quietly make your way over to his door. Despite having been in his room multiple times before, something feels off now. Almost like you shouldn’t be there. You can’t quite put your finger on it but something about the whole situation has you on edge…

You shake it off. It’s fine. You’ll just casually peep through the slightly ajar door and make sure everything is okay before marching off to bed to enjoy your evening in. Simple as that, right?

Wrong.

Whatever you thought you were going to see past the small opening of his door doesn’t hold a candle to the image that will undoubtedly be burned into your memory forever.

There, laying casually on his bed, is Taehyung. That in and of itself is not out of the ordinary. Except for the fact that he is naked save for the boxers he normally wears to bed, with a hand pulling desperately at his painfully red length.

It’s suddenly hard to breathe, air catching so violently in your throat you nearly choke audibly. Slapping a hand over your mouth and nose, you will yourself to calm down enough to take in the scene before you. Taehyung’s long legs are splayed almost elegantly across his sheets, deliciously thick thigh muscles clenching and unclenching from his ministrations. His hand glides skillfully over his cock, alternating between slow, languid tugs and fast, unyielding strokes. He throws his head back before tucking his chin in briefly, tongue flicking out to wet his lips before he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. A hiss of pleasure melts into a throaty groan and heat pools rapidly in the pit of your stomach.

A voice in the back of your mind screams for you to get away while you can. You shouldn’t be here. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve lusted after your roommate, how long you’ve wanted to push him against any flat surface and have your way with him or let him have his way with you. It doesn’t matter that you want to do couple-y things with him too, like hold his hand and kiss those soft, pink lips because you are roommates—friends—and a fling like that could only end in disaster, especially when he doesn’t feel the same way. It doesn’t matter and you have to leave now before—

“___,” Taehyung groans once again, hands caressing up his lean stomach and you’re distracted by the way his muscles ripple with the attention. “Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna come help me?”

Something between a squeak and a cough leaves your throat in that instant and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. You can’t bring yourself to move for a good second but Taehyung lets out another low moan and your feet move of their own accord into the bedroom.

If you thought he was beautiful before, he is absolutely glowing in the soft light of his bedside lamp. A light sheen of sweat coats his skin and you are overwhelmed with the urge to lick a stray bead that travels down his neck. Your breath is coming out in short pants and you try to subtly squeeze your thighs together to ease the ache. This does not go unnoticed.

“Hello, darling.” The words leave his lips in a low purr and a shiver zips down your spine. He’s smirking at you, hands still gripping his length but his pace has slowed significantly as if giving you a show. He seems perfectly comfortable despite the lack clothing, completely unfazed by your blatant staring. Like he wants you to look at him and only him. The thought has your face burning.

“T-Tae, what are you doing?”

“Isn’t is obvious, sweetheart? Surely I don’t need to spell it out for you, hm?” A particularly wet pass over his dick has him sucking in a gasp and you find you can’t look away. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and Taehyung fixates on the motion, pupils blown wide and darkening further.

“Although you haven’t picked up on my blatant flirting so maybe I should.”

That snaps you out of your reverie. “Flirting?” You hate the way your voice sounds so weak and vulnerable but it can’t be helped.

“I haven’t exactly been subtle, ___. I’ve been—fuck—I’ve been trying to drop hints for the last few weeks now, hell, the last few months but you never n-notice.” He tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth again before releasing a heavy sigh.

Your head is spinning. This Taehyung is so different from the one you’re used to—yes, he’s still the same incorrigible flirt, but where he is usually giggly and playful he is now sensual and downright sinful. You think back over the past few weeks, the lingering touches, the casual hugs. Taehyung has always been touchy but they had felt charged with something else entirely. It’s good to know you hadn’t been making that up.

“I…” You truly don’t know what to say for yourself. “I didn’t know,” you murmur, feeling very very small all of a sudden.

Taehyung immediately stills at your tone and misinterprets it as discomfort. “Oh. Oh god, ___, I’m so sorry.” Wrenching his hand away from himself, he scrambles on the bed, looking up at you with earnest, remorseful eyes. The waistband of his boxers snap shut in his frenzy and you almost mourn the loss of the desire-tinted skin. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just thought that maybe you…maybe you felt the same?”

You’re so taken aback by the complete 180 he’s made that your response gets caught in the whirlwind of your thoughts, This is more like the Taehyung you know, kind and considerate, and you almost forget the situation you’re in. Almost.

“N-No!” you stammer, eager to assuage his uncertainty. “I mean, yes, I-I…” You close your eyes tightly. “I do…feel the same.”

The way Taehyung looks at you after your stunted confession has your heart auditioning for a marathon and goosebumps prickling across your skin. You may as well have just hung all the stars in the sky with the amount of adoration swimming in his warm irises.

“I’m glad,” he grins brightly at you and you can’t help but smile back. You bite your lip out of habit and the smile fades from his face as he watches you.

Swallowing thickly, he rasps, “___, c-can I kiss you? Please.”

The desperation in his voice is not something you expect and a jolt of electricity zings down your spine. Dazed, you nod. That’s all Taehyung needs before he practically launches himself to his feet to grab you by the waist and pull you to him. His hand—the other hand that was not touching himself—cradles your face as he bends down to brush your noses together. A moment passes, Taehyung staring into your eyes to give you room to pull away. When you don’t, he smiles briefly to himself before surging forward to connect your lips.

The kiss is soft and warm, exchanging only the slightest bit of pressure as if you both are worried that you’ll frighten the other. Which is ridiculous, you think, since you have yet to run away. You bounce up on your toes to alleviate the reach for Taehyung and kiss him harder. He hums appreciatively as he nips at you, the sound tingling from your lips and down the length of your body. You shiver in his hold and move to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. The distance disappears between you two and you feel his arousal poking at your stomach. You break the kiss to look down between you, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Glancing up at Taehyung from beneath your eyelashes, you marvel at how positively wrecked he looks. He’s still damp with sweat but his mouth is slightly swollen from your kisses and his eyes are so blown out they’re practically black with desire. You feel yourself clench hopelessly as the blood rushes loudly in your ears.

“Can I—Can I watch you?”

You’re just as surprised as Taehyung is to hear those words leave your mouth but you’re not quite thinking straight, not when he looks like that and you finally have him in a way you never thought you would. It’s overwhelming, to say the least, and you want to savor every moment together.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to be faring much better, the request making his breathing turn heavy as he leans down to rest his forehead against yours. “Are you sure, ___? Are you absolutely sure? Because once we start, I don’t think I can stop.”

Peeking up at him coyly, you respond, “Who says I’ll want you to?”

A beat. Then, Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut and practically growls at your words. His arm tightens around your waist and crushes your body to him as if trying to mold you together. You love it.

“Then sit back and enjoy the show.” His lips quirk into a lascivious smirk before crashing your mouths together once again. This kiss is different than the previous one, not one bit of hesitation lingering now. Taehyung’s tongue licks along the seam of your mouth insistently and your legs turn to jelly as you open up for him.

The kiss is over too soon but before you can mourn the loss of his lips, he pushes you down onto the bed and resumes his spot against the pillows. Tugging on his boxers, Taehyung pulls them down to discard them somewhere behind you. Heat pulses through you at the sight of his exposed flesh and your thighs rub together once again.

Taking himself in hand, Taehyung spreads his legs and begins a torturously slow pace. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of this.” All the air in your lungs leaves you at the confession. You can’t even think clearly, much less think up a semi-coherent response, but he doesn’t seem deterred by your silence.

“I’ve always—shit—I’ve always wanted t-to kiss that pretty little mouth of yours, ravage it until you can’t think. Your mouth, your neck, anything I could get my lips on.” Your eyes eagerly take in the sight of the milky substance beading at the tip of his cock and making his passes even messier.

“Ah, fuck, I-I wondered what kind of sounds you would make. If you would gasp and sigh or if I could make you scream.” He twists his wrist as he glides over the head of his length and he gasps out loud, his breathing rough and ragged and oh so lovely.

“I’ve thought about what it would take you to make you beg for it.”

A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it and heat blooms across your cheeks. Taehyung stills for a moment before resuming with a smirk.

“Oh? Does my baby like the sound of that? Of me making you beg for my cock?” You nod, stunned and aroused beyond belief. It’s as if your brain has short-circuited and all you can think about is the fantasy that Taehyung so beautifully illustrates for you.

“Dirty girl,” he chuckles, tonguing the corner of his lips. “I should have guessed at what a desperate little thing you’d be. Asking me to stroke my dick while you watch.” He tuts playfully, eyes never leaving yours.

Breathing has become steadily more difficult and you’re acutely aware of the dampness between your legs. You want nothing more than to relieve the ache but you’re so transfixed on the beautiful man laid out in front of you that you can do nothing more than squeeze your thighs together.

“Look at you,” Taehyung’s eyes rake down your form, taking in your lust-darkened gaze and heaving chest before lingering on the apex of your tensed thighs. “I bet you’re dripping, aren’t you? So eager to take my cock that I could just slip right in if I wanted to, hm?” Again you nod, fingers twitching as you grip the sheets beneath you. He laughs lowly and the sound washes over you and settles deep in your stomach.

“God, I bet you’d taste so sweet on my tongue. I would spend hours just buried between your legs if you’d let me. Every time you prance around the apartment in those scraps you call shorts, I just want to bend you over the couch and fuck you until you can’t walk. Would you like that, baby girl? Want me to sink my cock into that sweet cunt of yours? Make it mine, over and over again?”

You’re practically panting now, desperate sounds ripping themselves from your throat as Taehyung stares at you intensely, hand never faltering on his swollen erection. He seems to take pity on you because in the next moment, he murmurs a deep, “Come here, baby.”

Snapping into action, you nearly stumble over yourself in your haste to be close to him. He smiles, fondness flickering in his eyes beneath the lust at your eagerness. You crawl forward until you are settled on your knees between his legs. A feeling of shyness settles over you—absurd, given the circumstances—and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze. A hand winds around your waist and pulls you to him, forcing you to straddle one of his thighs. You feel a finger slip under your chin to coax you into looking at him. When you do, Taehyung offers a sweet smile.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” You go to nod but Taehyung clicks his tongue. “I need to hear you say it, ___.”

“Yes.” You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake. “I want you, Tae.”

The finger on your chin turns into a forceful grip as he crashes your mouths together once again. It’s messy and desperate and you can’t help the loud moan that Taehyung swallows gleefully. You welcome his tongue into your mouth and when you give it a pointed suck, he lets out an answering groan low in his throat.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he pants against your cheek, planting wet kisses down your jaw and to the length of your neck. His lips meet the collar of your shirt but before he can even ask, you’re wrenching it off your body and onto the ground.

Taehyung seems at a loss for the first time since you’d walked into his room and you revel in the swell of pride that overtakes you. He can’t help but ogle greedily at the newly-exposed skin and you feel powerful knowing that you have his undivided attention.

Shaking himself out of his daze, Taehyung places a gentle kiss right above your heart before slowly making his way lower. The gesture is not lost on you and you find yourself melting further into his touch as your hand wraps around to tangle in the hairs at the nape of his neck. You can feel two hands ghost up your sides to tease the undersides of your breasts and you inhale sharply, chest pushing up into his mouth. Taehyung breathes a laugh onto your skin before cupping the soft flesh and placing almost reverent kisses upon their stiff peaks.

“Tae, please,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut at the onslaught of sensations he is inflicting on you.

“Hmm, I like hearing you beg for me.” His tongue flicks against your pebbled nipple and you cry out, unable to hold back anymore. “My desperate baby girl.”

“T-Tae, ah, please don’t tease.”

“Don’t tease?” He punctuates the question with a sharp squeeze. “But you’ve been teasing me for well over a year, no? Walking around the apartment practically naked, with nothing but a t-shirt or these poor excuse for shorts.” Taehyung’s hands leave a lingering pinch before gliding down the length of your torso to the hem of your sleep shorts. Hooking a finger inside, he snaps the elastic back in place and you gasp. “No panties?” He asks in wonder, eyes fixed on your lower half.

Swallowing, you murmur, “I-I don’t usually wear them to bed.”

He lets out a throaty groan. “Fuck, you really—” He cuts himself off with another sharp exhale, head tipping backward as he squeezes his eyes shut as if in pain. Something nudges the side of your thigh and you look down at forgotten length between you, swollen and nearly purple. As if in a daze, you reach for the turgid flesh and let the tips of your fingers graze the head tentatively. Taehyung’s eyes snap open to look at you in shock and you freeze.

“Do that again. Please.”

You can hardly deny him when he looks so fucked out beneath you and your hand begins a tentative pace, stroking his dick like you had witnessed him do earlier.

“That’s it, atta girl,” he groans into your shoulder, kissing the skin almost absentmindedly. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your stomach plummets at his words, inner muscles clenching almost painfully. You’re so turned on your shorts are most likely unsalvageable but seeing Taehyung so wrecked and because of you makes it all worthwhile.

Keeping up the pace on his cock, you don’t even notice your hips begin to lower onto his thigh and rock down against him until he sits up from where he’d begun to slouch in pleasure, leg knocking up into your dripping heat.

“Fuck, baby. Look at you, grinding on my thigh like that.” His words send your heart stuttering in your chest. “Your poor little cunt has been neglected, hm? You’ve been such a good girl for me, stroking my cock and getting me ready. I think you deserve a reward.”

Taehyung grips your hips with bruising force and helps you grind harder onto his leg. The drag of your shorts against your swollen clit is a little too harsh but the sheer dampness of the fabric makes the glide much easier.

“I can feel you dripping onto my leg. You’re soaked, baby.” You’re delirious at this point, incoherent noises spilling from your lips as you work yourself over Taehyung’s thigh. It’s not long before you feel the pleasure mounting within you, hips pistoning back and forth even faster.

“That’s it, baby girl. Use me. Make yourself cum on my thigh. Get yourself nice and ready for my cock.” His hands run soothingly across your skin, sending your nerves on fire. You whine as you feel your orgasm approach with each pass of your hips.

“Come on, babe. Give it to me. Let me feel you cum all over me.”

With a strangled cry, you buck against Taehyung uncontrollably as you finally release all over his leg. You curl into him, hands tangling into his hair and tugging in order to keep yourself grounded. Your hips gradually slow as you ride out your high and you find it a struggle to catch your breath. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, letting the aftershocks wash over you.

“Oh, ___,” Taehyung murmurs in wonder. Almost sheepishly, you peek up at him from beneath your eyelashes to see him staring at you with such unadulterated reverence and want that your heart skips a beat. “You did so well, baby girl,” he rasps, lips ghosting over your face tenderly.

Face warm, you try to redirect the attention to him and begin placing gentle kisses along the length of his neck. Taehyung tilts his head back, eyelids fluttering prettily at your ministrations. Smirking to yourself, you trail your hand teasingly down the length of his chest to make your way down to his dick but he stops you with a firm hand around your wrist. Before you can even open your mouth to question him, he’s already flipped you over onto your back.

“Hmm, still so eager for my cock.” He nips playfully at your bottom lip, laughing when you move to chase him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’re getting there. I have to get you ready first.”

Two of his fingers brush the swell of your mouth and you open immediately to take them in. Taehyung inhales sharply as you give them a pointed suck, eyes narrowing slightly to let you know that you will certainly pay for that later. The thought sends a shot of arousal to your core.

Taehyung removes his fingers and wastes no time in bringing them to the apex of your thighs. He makes quick work of your soiled shorts and suddenly, he’s all you can feel. A single digit swipes the length of your slit to circle around your clit, eliciting a hiss from the both of you.

“Oh, baby, you’re so wet,” Tae groans, in a trance. “All for me.”

He wasn’t really speaking to you but you nod anyway. “Yes, Tae. All for you.”

Eyes snapping to yours, he sinks one finger into your weeping heat and watches your face for any signs of discomfort. You tense slightly before relaxing and sending him a reassuring smile as a signal that he can continue. He pumps his finger in and out, letting you get used to the sensation before gently slipping in another. Scissoring the digits, Taehyung furrows his brows and bites his lip as he forces himself to be patient.

You, on the other hand, are having a much harder time controlling yourself. Soft whimpers escape you with every pump of Taehyung’s fingers. One particularly potent curl has you gasping for air as an animalistic growl tears itself from your throat, hips bucking harshly upwards.

“Gah, Tae—please,” you pant, hands flailing wildly for something to hold onto before settling on his hair.

“Anything, darling.” Taehyung inserts yet another finger and you begin to really feel the stretch, so much that it nearly becomes uncomfortable. A small noise of discomfort makes the man above you pause but he mouths at your temple reassuringly. “I know, baby, I know. But I have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

Right then, he curls his fingers just as he did before and you’re seeing stars again. He places adoring kisses along your jaw before dipping for another taste of your mouth. You eagerly accept him, opening fully to him as your hips roll along with the rhythm of his fingers.

Breaking away, you pant, “I’m ready, Tae.”

“Are you sure?” Looking deeply into your eyes, he must find what he’s looking for because he nods lightly and kisses you breathless. He reaches over to his nightstand and rummages in his drawer. The crinkle of a wrapper hits your ears, making your face warm slightly as the reality of the situation hits you full force. You were really doing this. The fact that the man that you’ve pined after for so long is here with you—actually likes you—is so surreal you’re not quite sure how to process it but you’ll be damned if you didn’t enjoy every second of it.

Once he has rolled the condom on, Taehyung moves upward to cup your face between his hands. “Before we begin, are you absolutely s—”

“Tae, I swear to god if you do not get inside me in the next three seconds I will flip us over and do it myself.”

Taehyung blinks before chuckling. “There will be plenty of time for that, sweetheart. But for right now…” His smile turns sinister, prompting anticipation to swirl deliciously in your stomach. “I’m calling the shots.”

He takes himself in hand and rubs the tip up and down the length of your folds. Your eyes flutter when Taehyung collects your pooling arousal, making a complete mess of you.

When he pushes in, your mouth drops open in a silent gasp. He’s big—of course he is—bigger now that he’s entering you and you can’t deny that the stretch is more than welcome. You glance up at Taehyung’s face and are pleased to see that he looks just as wrecked as you feel. He locks eyes with you, dark irises burning with lust but also something deeper. Something…soft and warm. The thought sends your heart pounding in your chest.

As he bottoms out, Taehyung makes sure to probe your face for any signs of discomfort. He doesn’t find any and tentatively thrusts into you, eyes never leaving yours as he does. You gasp, nerves tingling as a whine tears itself from your throat, soft and breathy.

“That’s it, angel,” Taehyung pants in your ear. “Sing for me. Let me know just how good I make you feel.”

You clench helplessly, reveling in the low grunt it earns from the man above you. He begins to pick up the pace, hips snapping fiercely against yours so that the only sound is the harsh slap of skin against skin mingling with your eager breaths.

“Such a tight little cunt, even after you’ve already cum once.” His voice is even raspier with the force of his thrusts and you practically keen at the sound. “I wonder how many times I can make you lose it.”

You sob, hips rising desperately to meet his. “P-Please,” you cry, unsure what it is you’re asking for but it doesn’t matter because he props himself up to get a better angle, looking down at your writhing form.

“Such a desperate little baby.” He punctuates the pet name with a particularly harsh snap of his hips and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can already feel your second orgasm rising within you, all you need is a little push.

“You know,” Taehyung begins, concentrating his thrusts to a slow roll, “I’ve always been curious about one thing.”

Before you can ask what it is, you see his hand snake between you, gliding across your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, to settle at the base of your throat. Your eyes widen of their own accord, breath stuttering as you realize the intention. Taehyung’s eyes hold a silent question and you nod, albeit a bit desperately, prompting him to wrap his long fingers steadily around the lowest part of your neck.

“Fucking filthy,” he whispers in awe, gaze alternating between your face and the sight of his hand wrapped around your pretty neck. He thinks he could watch this forever. Squeezing experimentally, Taehyung watches with utter delight at how quickly you fall apart under his grip. Your hands scramble to claw at his arm, not to pull it away but to keep him locked in place.

“Poor baby just wants to be choked and fucked senseless, is that it?” You nod jerkily, pleasure fogging your mind and making you delirious. You couldn’t talk even if you tried but the way your hips buck up into his needily tell him all he needs to know.

“So honest,” he chuckles, increasing the pressure slightly. “Good girls get what they want.” Taehyung pulls his hips back, so far that only the tip remains inside you, before snapping back in full-force. The pace he sets is brutal and you can feel his hip brushing relentlessly against your clit.

“T-Tae,” you gasp, stomach tightening as a particularly well-timed thrust has you seeing stars. “C-Close.”

“Is baby girl gonna cum?” You nod frantically, eyes focusing and unfocusing on his face. “Come on, baby. Give me one more. I know you can do it. My desperate. Little. Slut.”

Taehyung tightens his grip even further and that’s the end for you. A scream lodges itself in your throat as the coil in your lower stomach snaps, sending you spiraling into the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in a while. Taehyung releases his hand from your neck abruptly, the rush of air prolonging your pleasure to the point you think you might pass out.

Above you, you hear Taehyung groan gutterly at the vice-like grip your walls have trapped him in. “Fuck, princess, I can feel you squeezing. You’re gonna make me cum.”

Still breathless, you fight against the fog clouding your brain. “Please, Tae. Cum inside me, please. I-I want it so bad.”

“Such a filthy little thing,” he stutters, breaths sounding labored in your ears as he gets closer to his own climax. “Gonna f-fill you up so good. Make this cunt mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp, tightening your muscles one last time around him. That seems to be the end for him because before you know it, Taehyung is moaning into your shoulder.

“All. Fucking. Mine,” he growls as he snaps his hips, once, twice, before stilling inside you.

It seems to last hours but Taehyung eventually collapses onto his forearms, careful not to crush you under his weight. You both take a minute to catch your breath, enjoying the feeling of closeness that follows. Eventually, he pulls back, carefully slipping out of you to tie off the condom and toss it in the wastebasket. You wince but relax immediately after, snuggling further into the soft down of his comforter.

Taehyung smiles adoringly as he makes his way back to the bed, heart flipping at how cute you look in his bed. Almost as if you belong there. He hesitates as he gets to the edge, fearing for a moment whether or not it was alright to join you. Those fears are put to rest as you blink sleepily up at him, arms tiredly reaching for him. Relieved, he snuggles in next to you and gathers you in his arms. It’s silent for a moment as you both enjoy being wrapped up in each other.

“Since when?” you finally break the silence, tracing mindless patterns across his chest.

Taehyung inhales sharply. He knows exactly what you mean. Still, he feigns ignorance. “What?”

You close your eyes for a moment, burying your face further into his chest. “Since when have you liked me?”

“Since when have you liked me?” he shoots back and you pinch the skin on his ribs. He yelps before you both dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“I asked you first,” you whine, risking a glance up at his face. Taehyung is already staring down at you fondly, warm gaze melting into your own.

“Since the very first moment,” he whispers softly. You almost laugh, except his face is deadly serious. It’s suddenly hard to swallow around the lump in your throat. You stare at him in wonder—the delicate brush of his eyelashes against his cheek, the soft sweep of his sweat-dampened hair over his forehead, the gentle curve of his lips as he smiles at you. You clear your throat, glancing away as a pleasant warmth settles over your cheeks.

“That’s not an answer.”

He laughs breathily in your ear and you fight a shiver. “Okay, okay. Well the first time I realized it was the day you had come back from your shift after you had switched managers.”

You balk. “Are you serious?” You remember that day. Management had decided to move your favorite supervisor over to the men’s department while you remained stuck in shoes. The new guy was awful—condescending, incompetent, and downright unpleasant. You had come home that day with three different bottles of wine and all the take out you could afford and practically forced Taehyung to drink with you and listen to your misery. The guy was eventually fired but the whole experience had left you with a bitter taste in your mouth.

Tae chuckles as he thinks back to that night. “Yes, I’m serious. You were about halfway through the second bottle and were practically screaming curses at the guy. It took you all of 30 minutes after dinner to fall asleep right there on the couch, somehow still complaining about that dickwad.” You snort, hand shooting up to cover your face in embarrassment. “As you talked, I realized…I could listen to you forever. And then you fell asleep, cuddling so cutely into my shoulder, and I knew I was a goner. Even though you snore.”

Your eyes, which had started watering at his heartfelt confession, widen before you regain your composure enough to hit his chest. “I do not snore.”

Taehyung winces playfully, knowing full-well that you don’t but enjoying teasing you all the same. “So, yeah. I’ve liked you for a while. And I had an inkling you felt the same.”

“Oh, yeah? What gave it away? The fact that I practically hopped on your dick?” you tease.

“Well it certainly didn’t hurt.” He winks at you and you have to stifle the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. “But it was little things. Like how you’d blush at a compliment or if I hugged you just a bit too long. I couldn’t be sure though. Not until tonight, I guess.”

“Well,” you shift upwards, his confession instilling a confidence in you that you hadn’t known you possessed, “in case I haven’t made it abundantly clear: I like you very, very much, Kim Taehyung.”

He’s silent for a single, nerve-wracking beat before the most brilliant smile lights up his face and for the second time that night, you find yourself breathless.

“And I like you very, very much, too, ___.”

Taehyung kisses you then, slow and sweet, and you’re left thinking that you never want to be anywhere else.

#bts #bts smut #bts taehyung #bts v #taehyung #taehyung smut #v #v smut #bts imagine #taehyung imagine #v imagine #bts v imagine #kth fic #bts fics #taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader fic #taehyung x reader imagine #my writing

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edie-k · 4 years ago

Text

Here‘s my drabble for the HPRomione Discord fanfic tag. Thanks to @zurisenchantedquill for tagging me. My prompt was fireworks - literal and figurative.

My head - let’s write spicy figurative fireworks! You’ve wanted to stretch those muscles!

My heart - uh…. we’re going to write a fight.

I am tagging @bluegreenandpurple next. Your prompt is revenge

Title: Tense

Rating: PG-13 (Ron and I can’t go too long without using the f word)

Pairing: Romione

Disclaimer: Not my characters

Quick head canon note: I believe that Ron isn’t completely aware of his actions when under veela influence.

Takes place the summer before HBP.

Ron stepped out of the house and rubbed his face wearily.

Everything was so fucking tense right now.

He had certainly gotten used to a high level of tension in the year since Voldemort had returned and it was obviously warranted. But today, there was a completely new kind of tension and it made no sense.

The week had started off well. Hermione had arrived four days ago. Ginny, of course, had to insert herself in their business constantly but the first night, Hermione had suggested the two of them take a walk around the edge of the property after dinner and they’d repeated it every night. With the shop opening, Fred and George had been scarcely around to subject him to their normal torment. And Bill had written to say that he’d be arriving today to stay for the summer and it was always great to have his older brother around.

But that was where the trouble started.

Bill hadn’t arrived alone. He hadn’t mentioned that his girlfriend, Fleur Delacour, would be in tow. Ron had no issue with Fleur except it was considered polite to give a fucking warning when you bring a veela around so a bloke can have a chance to try to not make a fool of himself.

And then, with Fleur standing next to him with a beatific smile on her face, Bill announced she wasn’t his girlfriend - she was his fiancée.

Ron had always assumed his mum would go mad with excitement at the first of her children to marry and the fact that it was her golden boy should have made it even more unbearable. Instead Bill’s announcement was met with confusion by he and the twins (while he caught all the grief from his sister, Fred and George certainly weren’t immune to veela charms), a nervous smile from his dad, and stony silence from his mum and Ginny.

Fleur’s smile dropped and Bill frowned.

“Well,” said Dad, standing up and breaking the silence. “Certainly something to celebrate!” He pulled his eldest son into a hug before repeating the action with Fleur.

Ron felt his mind clear a bit and shook his head. “Uh, yeah. Congratulations,” he said, stepping forward to pat his brother on the back and grin. The twins seemed to come back to themselves as well and enthusiastically shook Bill’s hand.

“And, uh,” Ron turned to Fleur. “Welcome to the family.” He tried to make his voice warm and mature but he was sure he sounded like a total git. To make matters worse, he awkwardly raised his arms but didn’t actually move to touch her. Ron was sure he looked like an idiot.

Fleur, however, seemed to appreciate his gesture. She gave him a small smile and quietly said “Thank you.” She then pushed herself up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

His brain was starting to feel a touch fuzzy until he suddenly heard a tongue cluck behind him. He whirled around - Mum and Ginny were now both glaring at Dad for some reason. Hermione however, was looking at Fleur with absolute disdain. He shot a quizzical look at her but she pointedly ignored him.

Dad was staring back at Mum and Ginny. “This is something to celebrate,” he repeated in an unusually stern tone.

“Of course,” replied Mum tersely. Ron watched his mum inhale sharply and force a smile onto her face. “Oh, my boy is getting married!” She pushed Fred aside to embrace Bill and her words almost sounded genuine.

At his father’s insistence, they had a full feast for dinner. Dad had even popped out and returned with three bottles of champagne. He had poured Ron, Hermione, and Ginny each a generous glass as Mum looked on disapprovingly. But despite Dad’s best efforts, the meal had been uncomfortable. Delicious but uncomfortable. And Hermione had skipped pudding and excused herself from the table, breaking what he already considered their after dinner tradition. Ron hadn’t seen her since. He’d gone to the sitting room to play a couple of games of chess with Bill but as darkness was setting, he felt the need to escape the uneasiness that existed in the room and a pull to see Hermione.

As he glanced around the garden, he spotted her on the far end, sitting on the bench with a book.

“Hey,” he greeted, approaching her slowly.

Hermione glanced up from the tome and grunted in acknowledgement. Ron bristled at her reaction.

“You stood me up,” he said, struggling to keep his tone light. He was still unsure as to what had brought on this mood.

“You seemed busy,” she responded curtly.

He shrugged. “I wanted cake. And Bill was asking about the Quidditch Cup match.”

Hermione snorted and closed her book before setting it next to her. “Oh, it was Bill you were sharing your heroics with.”

“Yes,” he said, confused. “They weren’t exactly heroics either.”

“Right. And Bill is the one you found so interesting. Not his fiancée, whose lap you practically crawled into.”

Ron ignored that comment. He thought he was doing quite an admirable job of treating Fleur normally. “Do you have a problem with Fleur?” he asked.

“Do I have a problem with Fleur,” she repeated, a bit shrilly.

“Er, yeah? It just seems like you do.”

“She’s being awful! Snide comments about absolutely everything.”

“She’s to be my sister in law! And Mum and Ginny are being awful to her! I just think we all should make an effort.”

“Yes, that’s you. The welcoming committee,” she rolled her eyes.

“Again, she’s going to be part of the family,” he insisted.

“It doesn’t bother you that it’s happening so quickly? You’re always so suspicious of new people. They just met.”

“It’s been a year. And I reckon I trust Bill,” he said, shrugging.

“I know he’s your brother and you think a lot of him but he’s just a person like the rest of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The whole lot of you. Falling all over yourselves because a beautiful woman enters the room or looks at you or kisses your cheek,” Hermione sneered.

“Hang on,” Ron stopped, his blood suddenly running cold. “Are you jealous of Fleur?”

“What?” Hermione squeaked, looking a bit panicked.

“Are you - do you have a thing for my brother?”

“What?!” Hermione shrieked.

“Well, you seem to have a thing for people that are way too old for you. Lockhart, Krum, and now…”

“Are you being serious?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. You must be jealous of Fleur over Bill.”

Hermione let out a humorless laugh. “I’m not jealous of Fleur because of Bill.”

Ron froze. He replayed her answer in his mind. He wasn’t at his sharpest due to the after effects of veela powers and champagne but he was sure that she hadn’t denied that she was jealous; it just didn’t have to do with Bill. Did that mean… what did that mean?

“What does that mean?” he asked her. Their eyes locked and Hermione bit her lip nervously.

Wheeeeee - BANG!

Ron turned sharply and looked up to the sky to see three pink rockets bursting overhead.

“There’s your proper celebration, Dad!” shouted Fred gleefully. George whooped and pumped a fist in the air.

While Ron and Hermione had argued, Fred and George apparently tapped into their firework stock, which was bringing the rest of the family outside.

“Boys! Be careful! Ginny!” Mum yelled, as his sister squeezed by and ran toward the twins. She tutted and followed Ginny, his dad close behind. An orange Catherine wheel appeared above their moving forms.

Bill and Fleur, holding hands paused at the door and looked up.

“They are lovely although the display in Marseille for Bastille Day simply cannot be outdone,” Fleur declared. “The city is not without its problems but -” Bill laughed and pulled her along, trailing after his parents.

Ron glanced back at Hermione, who was scowling. “Is that true?”

“Is what true?”

“You’ve been to Marseille with your parents, right? Cause your mum’s a fan of that one poet from there. Are the fireworks there better?”

She looked at him and for a moment, she seemed speechless, which made no sense. It wasn’t a particularly challenging question. “Uh, yes, I have been there but not for Bastille Day. I wouldn’t have seen any wizarding fireworks anyway of course but I have a hard time believing that anyone can outdo your brothers.”

BOOM! Sparks in the form of a large green fire breathing dragon lit up the sky.

“Fred and George are quite unbeatable when it comes to explosions,” Ron agreed.

Hermione smiled at him and moved her book back onto her lap, gesturing for him to sit. Ron didn’t quite understand what he did to change her attitude but he thought it best not to push. He plopped down next to her and his bare calf brushed up against hers, sending a shiver up his spine. She didn’t move her leg away.

They sat side by side, Hermione watching the fireworks, Ron watching Hermione.

#romione #ron x hermione #romione fanfic #ron weasley #ron and hermione #hermione granger #hp fanfic

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undercoverwizardfanfiction · 4 years ago

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Fantasy ROTTMNT Fanfiction:Do Not Go Gentle:Prolouge

Summary: We were beaten by Draxum, the Unbreakable Baron. He took our Donnie from us. Now there’s nothing in the Hidden Kingdom that will stop us from getting him back. Sequel to the Broken Butterfly

Characters: Leo, Donnie, Raph, Mikey

Rating: Currently E

Overall: T (for later chapters] (note I’ll be sure to rate each chapter individually and give each one trigger warnings pertaining to that chapter for people who want to read the story but want to avoid the angst and violence coming up )

Pairings: Oh? You want to read the story and ship everything including the trees? Go right ahead you just have to get past my ““ship guard” *points to dragon lying in front of entrance to story wearing a bib that says ““shippers only diet”

Take a step back, before Draxum stole Donnie from his brothers, before their adventure began. Before their adventure, after all everything has a beginning

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

Prince Leonardo Pumpington Cuddle Wuddle Baby the Twenty-Fifth awoke as he always does. With a minor headache and more tired than when he laid down twelve hours ago despite sleeping on a triple sized king bed under the fluffiest blankets made from only the finest endangered species. He pushes up his eye mask and waves off the Choir standing by his side that acted as his personal alarm before sinking once again into his soft warm bed. Staring at the ceiling and mural of himself winking. Leo made sure to wink back with finger guns, as was his usual morning ritual. He was content to lay in bed for the rest of the day (which wouldn’t be unusual) when the large ornate double doors swung open. A familiar octopus stepped in with a wide smile but eyes that were forever nervous ,”Go-good Morning my Prince! Are you ready to wake up? Where would you like your breakfast?”

The prince stretched his overly privileged arms. He could always have breakfast in bed again, that thought was always appealing, “I‘ll eat in Dining Hall Three today.” He claps his hands together loudly. Two of the more muscular choir members quickly moved lift him out of bed, holding him over their heads like a religious object and carry him out of the room. The hallways are covered in beautiful rare oil paintings, but none of them held his attention until they pass by a large mirror. “Holdup,” he says waving his hand, the two attendants back up to the mirror again. Leo made sure to give his reflected self the self-appointed wink before snapping his fingers at an attendant who had doted alongside, “You go get my make up team and my manicure team. I refuse to look anything less than spectacular.”

“Yes of course my prince.” She she curtseys before hurrying off. The attendants carrying him finally arrived in the large dining hall with a table longer than most roads. He was lowered onto a soft throne-like dining room chair before he clapped his hands together and another attendant, with a tray with an ornate tea pot came over with several ornate china teacups on the tray to see which one he’d want to go with his breakfast. He sipped one, “Too cold” he tosses the cup over his shoulder where it shatters on the ground. “Too hot” he tosses that one. “Too sour.” He tosses another, ”Too perfect...” he tosses again before letting out a large irritated sigh. “Go try again,” he snaps as that attendant runs off as well (trying their best not to step on broken pieces of fine china).

The prince leans back in his seat before a chef hustles out with a tray. “For you, your excellence!” he says lifting the lid off the tray and sets it in front of him, despite his already irritated attitude, he can’t help but smile at the delicious selection, the chef bows. ”Caviar Benedict, with a maple syrup glaze, a side of cinnamon churro asparagus and a glass of,” he sighs, “le Choccy Milk.”

“Aw perfect!” Leo waves off the tired chef. It’s not long after he’s finally given a good pot of tea and he’s leaning back in his seat. He has two attendants giving him a manicure, with a third applying his make-up and a fourth lifting his tea to his mouth while a fifth one is leaning precariously around everyone else to try cut his food for him. “Taki!” he snaps to the octopus servant, “I have a headache so clear my schedule.”

‘I-oh-uh.” Taki let out a tremble. “My Prince what about your Aetherwave show? You told your fans you would take a dive into a pool of diamonds today.”

Leo scoffed. “And I told you my diamonds are dirty, throw them out and buy me new ones,” he says, turning his head towards an attendant who snapped his fan open and began to fan him off, “Did you replace my ring yet?”

“You mean the one of a kind diamond sapphire ring made for you by the master craftsman Jair-Red? I-I was trying to tell you that he recently passed-“

The Prince snaps his head in Taki’s direction with such intensity the octopus squeaks out in fear “Then get the necromancer and tell her to make him make me a new one.” He thought for a moment to make sure he had said that right. “And make sure this one is clean. Unlike that last one,” he scoffs as he remembers how disgusted he was when he found that smudge on his seventy third favorite ring. So disgusted in fact he had wasted no time in yanking it off and throwing it out the nearest window.

“Um, yes my Prince, I’m sure NecroNancy won’t mind coming into work on her birthday.” Ending in a tone that implied NecroNancy would not only mind coming into work but would also be very cross about it.

Leo let out a loud scoff, his throat was actually starting to hurt from making that noise so much “That’s not my problem is it!?” he demands as though daring Taki to imply otherwise.

“Yes, right, sorry My Prince.” Taki moves down his list. “Um, that was all you really had. Other than your concert tonight-“

Leo levels the octopus with a angry look, waving off the attendant who had just finished his eyeliner. “ I just told you cancel everything.”

“No-now I would your majesty.” Taki avoids his burning yellow eyes by looking at his paper, “Your mother was the one who requested the concert. And-“ the octopus gulps,” I do not think you want to disappoint her, do you?”

Leo’s hand bumps lightly against his teacup. Though barely noticeable to anyone else, Leo was painfully aware of his mistake. He flexes his trembling hand before regaining his composure, “Well if Mummy wants it then who am I to say no. I don’t suppose she’ll be at this one either?” he asks.

“No, My Prince, I'm sorry.”

Leo hides his disappointment by inspecting his new manicure, looking for a flaw to point out. Unfortunately, they were done to perfection. With a surge of irritation, he claps his hands together. “Leave me be!” he commands, “Go get my preparations ready.”

The staff bowed as they left, bumping into each-other as they hurried away to do their assigned tasks. When they were gone from sight, Leo sighed and leaned back as much as he could in his high back seat with a cup of tea in his hand before drinking from it.

He had gone three years without seeing his mother

What was another three to her?

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

Leo spent the rest of the day in preparation for his concert relaxing in a gold water bath which took all the tension out of his body. Investing all that money to invent gold water was the best small fortune he had ever spent, (even if it was highly toxic to drink). A day of pampering and relaxation nearly killed off his sour mood. But before he knew it, while being fed diamond-grade gold grapes, Taki was reminding him of his recital.

He knew his mother had probably already picked out a recital outfit for him, but until then at least he had a choice in what he would wear to the event. And for him it was his favorite aqua formal coat over a his white button up shirt and two toned pants with spats. He needed help from Jabot to put on his ruffle tie and pendant but other then that he was fine. The attendants loaded up any excess jewelry he would need between the recital and the parties afterwards.

Unfortunately, the platinum diamond carriage was being re-diamonded so he was stuck with the gold diamond studded carriage. He tapped his foot boredly before flipping out his mystic mirror, twist a flash, he knew it was connected to the Aetherwave, which was at its strongest at the castles. “Hello my fibbly fabulous subjects, it’s your beloved and beautiful Prince, Leonardo Snuggly Wuggly the Twenty-Fifth, here to tell you of an upcoming recital featuring,” Leo made sure to tilt his head to catch the mystic sun on his cheek, “Yours truly, I hope you can all make it, though I doubt it. I’ll be sure to pay someone to describe it in full detail when I return.” Leo blew a kiss at the mirror before hanging up.

“Um,” Taki tapped his tentacles together. “My prince, please we talked about you broadcasting just before you leave. It's very dangerous you don’t want your enemies –“

Leo squeezes his eyes shut snapping his fan shut with such intensity that it interrupts Taki with a small squeak as though he understood how close he was to getting on the Princes last nerve. Leo turns to Taki with a large smile. “Taki, Taki, it’s Taki right? I’ve known you foorrrr…” Leo trails off in a way that leads to Taki to add, “E-ever since Big Mama brought you home.” His nervous face half hidden behind his clipboard as though it could somehow protect him.

“Right, right. A while, and maybe in this time I may have made you feel.” Leo danced his fan as though trying to conjure the word he was thinking of, “Comfortable? So as a Pirnce, it's my job to remind you.” He taps his fan on Taki’s forehead, “What does it mean to be a prince?”

“It-it means you’re one of a kind.” Taki stutters, “a a gift.” Leo gestures for him to continue, “a superbly burbly light from the stars.”

“That’s RIGHT Taki, very good.” Leo clapped his hands like one would clap at a dog on its hind legs, “I’m a a gift, you’re lucky enough to be able to be graced in my presence every day. And you.” Again, Leo’s fan taps him between the eyes, this time with enough force to make Taki step back with a tremble, “Well, there are millions like you. So, while I'm irreplaceable, that means there are millions of yokai who could do your job in your sleep, so you are….” Leo again trails off, gesturing for him to continue. Taki’s eyes filled with a sadness that Leo barely notices, as the octopus lowered his tear-filled eyes, “replaceable.”

“Very good Taki! Such a smart man!” with a final tap of his fan on Taki’s head, Leo climbed up into the carriage, a guard pulled the door open for him. He gave finger guns to the guards who sat in the drivers spot and on the back. Leo was about to swing in when he saw a massive brown dog sitting across from his would be spot. Ugh,” he groaned, “Gus what are you doing?”

“Heya Prince!” Gus said happily, either oblivious to Leo’s disgust or just not caring. “Big Queen sent me here as extra muscle but you’re cool with that, right bro? Course you are!” The dog tore open a tin of bone shaped cookies he had brought along and began to tear into them without any dignity or manners. Leo scrunched up his beak before pulling himself in. Snapping open his fan to try and get the smell of “peasant” off him.

It wasn’t his fault they were all poor.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

Thanks to the best magic available the inside of the carriage kept the interior at a perfect temperature, judging by the shivering peasants working out in the fields, but thankfully that’s what curtains were for. Leo spent most of the journey looking through the dance recital choreography his mother had picked out for him. Why she bothered to do that he didn’t know. Tapping his foot in rhythm and trying to visualize what illusion would go best with the moves. He’d have a little time to practice before the event but he often did his best work on the fly. So eventually he gave up. At that point there was a heavy shadow against the curtain telling him they were passing a forest now. Leo was half asleep when the smooth ride was interrupted by a jarring hit and they came to a stop. He grabs the door to keep from flying forward as his anger swells back. “What is the glimbering meaning of this?!” he demands scooting towards the window. ”I swear if you make me late I'm throwing you all into the Battle-“ he goes to throw the curtain open when suddenly something heavy slams against the door. Leo drew back in shock as the carriage rocks heavily. He grabs at the framework to keep from falling on the ground. Before he could say anything, Gus was scrambling for the door. ”Don’t worry, your highness! I’ll protect-“ But a moment later the door was thrown open and his bodyguard suddenly was yanked from view and thrown aside.

A cry of surprise escapes Leo, he scrambles for the door he was presses against and after a few frantic seconds manages to get the door open and fall out the other side just as he felt a hand grab at the back of his shirt. The prince rolls on the ground for a moment, surrounded by the sounds of combat and shouts. The neat clean purple guard of the Matriatch locked in a struggle against several larger dirty looking thugs that Leo could only assume were bandits when one of them turns and points at him, “There’s the Prince!”

No!

Kidnappers.

For a moment Leo hoped they were referring to another devilishly handsome prince when all eyes fell on him. Leo looks to his fallen guards in hopes that are just pretending to be horribly injured but judging by the pained groan of one of them lets out when one of the kidnappers steps over him he knows it’s a pipe dream. “Thanks for the Aetherwave video, kid,” one of the bandits with a crooked jaw says. “We had just about given up on getting you before you posted that. Now how about you be a good boy and don’t put up a fight.”

Leo would like to think he would have been brave if he had ever been in a life or death situation, but his trembling body betrays that dream as well. But if he knows how to do anything, its talk. He musters a chuckle that he hopes is more humor then fear. ”Really? You geniuses thought coming after me was a good idea?” He puts on a wide grin as easy as a mask, “I am Prince Leonardo Snuggly Wubbly Baby the Twenty-fifth and I –“

“Um.” One of the bands looks off to his friends in confusion. “Wait that’s your name? For real? That’s just tragic.”

Despite himself, when the bandits start off laughing (he’s even sure he can hear one of the guards chuckling weakly into the ground) he blushes angrily, “Excuse me, you are criminals! I don’t except any of you to crimdididly criminals to understand a name of high society. Or someone of my power.” He snaps his fan out hard which suddenly fills the air with bright sparks with such intensity one of the bandits stumbles back in shock. He couldn’t help but feel satisfied at their awe and fear. “I am a master Mystician. I have trained with warlocks and wizards whose very power could turn the world inside out. And you honestly think you have any chance of challenging me!?” He threw his free hand upward as a light explodes from his fingertips licking the air like a mighty firework that makes the bandits stumble back in shock in order not to be touched by the magic.

They are so enamored by the display, it takes them a moment to notice that Leo is, in fact, running away as fast as he can in a manner that not only raised the question if he had ever run a day in his life or even walked (like a deer that not only just realized they had legs but were on backwards).

Leo’s hands fumble for his panic broach at his throat while looking at the bandits who were just noticing his disappearance when his graceful toe caught on a large root and sent him hard onto the ground. The broach flying from his fingertips and sinking into a mud puddle. “Who put all this nature here?!” he shrieks in panic. He can already hear the bandits running after him, Leo hurries to his feet and turns towards where he had come from. Despite his panic he summons bright silver lights to his finger tips that he swipes through the air, creating a crystal web across the trees in the path. But not wanting to wait to see how long they would last Leo ran again, before he hears the crystal shatter behind him and sends. Before he can react a rock hits him hard in the shell, knocking him forward snd rolling across the hard ground, his only saving grace was the hard tree in front of him that stops him but sends pain shooting down his shoulder, causing him to cry out and hold the injured appendage. He turns to press his shell against the tree as the bandits are now far too close to his liking.

“You know what, your highness?” The square chinned bandit says. “That was a good try. Probably not the best escape attempt I’ve ever seen but definately the funniest.” The other bandits chuckle around him as he raises up the muddy remains of Leo’s Panic Pendant. “Maybe if you were actually as great as you think you are, then you might have stood a chance.” His rough hands crushes Leo’s only hope before dropping the pieces to the ground and stepping froward, reaching towards him with the same sinfully dirty hand.

Leo turns his head away, anything to spare him the sight of the hand coming closer to grabbing him-

Something whistles through the air followed by the sound of impact and something hitting the ground hard. Leo lowers his arm in time to see something jump over his head and land hard against the bandit in front of him with both feet, sending the Yokai flying. The interloper ducks underneath a bandit directly to his front that tries to punch him and plants his staff hard in the ground, vaulting over and sending a bandit flying back into a tree. The interloper swung his staff up into a defensive position. The impenetrable shadow of his raised dark plum hood stole his features from Leo sending a shiver down his shell , but he could assume that when he jabbed his staff at the bandits it was a warning to go on. One of the bandits go to grab the leader when the interloper aims his staff at the unconscious bandit leader. Before he uses his toe to kick his money pouch up into his hands, before nodding at him. The bandits grab their leader by the ankles and run off into the forest after his friends. After that, the interloper opened up the drawstring pouch and began to poke around inside.

It took Leo a moment to realize his life was no longer in danger, and that relief was swapped by a rage, “What took you so long?! I thought that Uncles Rangers were the best warriors in the kingdom,” he snaps. The interloper head tipped in his direction for a moment before going back to count the money in his bag. It takes Leo a moment to realize he’s being ignored and swells up his chest as he stomps in the interloper’s direction, “Don’t you ignore me! I thought I was dimbly done for!!! I am the Prince; my safety is your only priority.”

For the first time since he arrived, the interloper looked fully in his direction, his face cast in shadow by his hood as though finally acknowledging his presence. He almost seems frozen at the sight of him, a fact Leo took to mean he understood his failings. “Thats right, when we get back to the castle I'm going to make sure you are thrown in a dungeon-“ Leo didn’t have a chance to finish his threat before the hooked staff appeared again and caught him around the ankle.

The moment his head hit the ground his world went black.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

It feels like a life time before Leo opens his eyes again and when he does he’s welcomed by a splitting headache. He instinctually tries to rub his head only to find his arms have been bound with his wrists behind him. Not painfully but it is enough to make him glare at the figure sitting against a tree several feet in font of him. Now Leo can see this figure lacks the fine, if plain, tunic of a Ranger. He’s wearing poor peasant clothing that seems to hang off him, wrapped in a dark plum cloak, the only indication of his skin came from his bare two-toed green feet and fingerless gloves. He’s watching Leo from his spot with his arms over his chest. If Leo hadn’t known better, he would have thought that he had fallen asleep. Except, even though Leo can't see his face, he feel his eyes on him which only adds to his anger and irruption. He can’t actually tell how much time has passed only that they are not in the same clearing as they had been a moment ago but a more secluded spot, where the mushroom trees where much closer together. “Excuse me?!” he snaps. ”What is the meaning of this?!” he demands. “You're not a ranger, are you?! You’re just some- some, weirdo living in the woods huh?!? Huh!? Do you want a ransom too!!??” he demands. A part of him is almost desperate for a response at his point.

“I don’t like to waste my words.”

Leo blinks. He had thought the figure might have been close to his age, but to hear his actual voice still shocks him. The thief falls silent again, drinking from a tin cup that smells like cheap old coffee that Leo can smell from here. The thief stands up and-spins his staff around his hand again lazily. “The truth is, I haven’t decided what to do with you yet. Ransoming you out won't do me any good, I'd live the rest of my life with a target on my back. Which isn’t ideal. I could rob you I guess, but I'm not sure I want it brother myself with stuff that smells so flowery. But that’s if I wanted to be professional” The thief dumps his cup out by his side. “I could just take everything you have and dump you in the deepest darkest part to the woods.“

At first Leo wonders if it's possible to have a heart attack from fear alone. But at the moment his heart seems determined to try. Kidnappers were one thing; he had been warned about them his whole life. But this person didn’t sound like they were all too interested int that. This sounded more like—

Leo blinks, his eyes going to the hooked staff that hasn’t left the thief’s side. Though the twisting hooked wood is nothing special to him, other than a dark gray handle at the end that seemed to summon the weapon, he sees a dark crystal hovering inside the hooked circle at the tip. The purple with a hint of pink is achingly familiar and the moment he recognizes he had owned it he can't’ help but let out a full-on laugh. It brings him no small amount of satisfaction to see the Thief look in his direction again. “I get it, you’re one of the orphans Mummy threw out before me,” he sneers. “Awwww you poor thing. Jealous that Mummy saw you for the worthless unlovable, pieces of trash you are? Is that it, little boy-“

The figure is in front of him in half a blink, lifting him up by the front and slamming him hard into the tree behind with such speed that Leo cries out in panic as dark pink eyes burn into him with such intensity Leo could feel the red hot rage about to be unleashed on him, “You know, you’re right?” the Thief says in a way that almost makes Leo think he’s sneering, “Since i’m a no one.” He twists the shirt up tighter in his hands, “Then I got nothing to lose-“

Before Leo could see his life flash before his eyes, there's a flash of red energy and the Thief jumps away in in time to avoid a giant fist red of energy swiping at him. In the time it takes Leo to hit the ground, the Thief summersaults underneath another giant hand and snatches up his hooked staff and roll to his feet. A giant bulking figure jumps out from the tree line, sliding across the ground before coming to a stop.

“Comet Farts!” the Thief gasps.

Not that Leo could blame him, the figure now standing between him and the Thief was more muscular then any of his guards, a large snagle tooth hanging from he mouth and with a thick that would put a tree to shame, Leo had seen snapping turtles before but none that big. He was wrapped in a black cloak and grey traveling gear, his head is marked off by a red bandana that’s fixated on the Thief. “In the name of Captain Jupiter James Guild, you are under-arrest for kidnapping and grand larceny and-“ The giant snapping turtle looks to his hand, Leo could just see a list of crimes the bounty hunter hand written up his arm, “And-and just a lot of other things-“ but the bandit had already turned and fled into the forest, “HEY!” The turtle shouts, “No, you're under arrest! That means stop running!” the giant runs after him, before calling, ”Mikey make sure the Prince is ok.”

“Don’t just lea-“ There’s a rustling to Leo’s right that makes him shriek out in surprise before, what could only be described as, another turtle slightly younger than himself pokes his head out to the bushes, “Don’t worry your highness! I’m a fan! Me and Raph are here to rescue you!” before climbing out of the bushes, revealing his dirty mud-covered body and old patchwork orange clothes.

Leo shrieks again.

This time for different reasons.

“No don’t you dare touch me! You’re filthy and you smell like a bird-“ There's another crashing sound, the thief almost crashes into Leo (who gave out his, what felt like, hundredth shriek and leapt out of the way.) The Thief hits the mushroom tree before falling into a crouch position. When he drags his hand across his face, Leo could see blood stain his sleeve.

The one who had called himself Raph stepped out of the forest, cracking his neck from side to side. “I’m sorry I hit you. I don’t want to fight some kid,” he starts, “If you turn yourself in maybe they’ll go easy on you-“

The Thief visibly grips his staff tighter, he reaches into his pocket and tosses a small brown bundle in the air that he smacks with his staff in Raph’s face which explodes into red dust. The bounty hunter cries out as he stumbled back, scrubbing at his face with his forearm before the Thief was on him jumping up and planting his feet hard against him like he had before with the bandit. Raph, though blinded, twists away and brings his elbow up to knock the Thief hard in the head.

The impact makes the Thief hit the ground before Raph’s foot found its place on his arm that held the hooked staff. The Thief squirmed trying to free him arm, “I’m trying to help you here. I was trained by the greatest hero of the Hidden-“

The hooked staff in the Thief’s trapped hand suddenly flashes and shrinks into the handle, with a limited room the Thief manages to toss it his other hand where it reforms and he swings hard, knocking Raph in the face. The Thief rocks back to his feet. His closed stance shifting to a wide one as he swings his staff around, Raph’s arms came up and crossed over his face as red energy covers him again flaring under the hits as the Thief spins around and rains a few smacks on his sides before swinging his leg up with a side kick to the stomach. Blindly, Raph swings his arm around and knocks him hard in the head.

The Thief flew back hard against a mushroom tree, his hood fallen back to reveal a dark jade green complexion wrapped in a purple bandana, blood running from where his nose would be as he snarled angrily at the Bounty Hunter before jumping at him again.

The turtle that had been called Mikey let out a small whine, “Raph, the Prince won't let me untie him because he thinks I smell.”

Raph had somehow pinned the Thief around his chest, but judging by the strained look on his face he wasn’t going to keep it for long as the two struggle around. ”Don’t distract me, I'm working,” before pausing “And when was the last time you had a bath that wasn’t just you standing in the rain?”

Mikey opened his mouth to respond before lifting his arm and smelling his armpit, judging by the grimace on his face he had just answered his own question. Leo squirmed away from the filthy turtle, in fact he was so determined to get away from the filthy turtle that he didn’t see the Thief slam his head back against Raph’s face, forcing the bounty hunter to drop him and the two opposite turtles collapsing against the other.

Then.

A breath.

The one known as Raph ran forward with his hand held out probably to pull the Thief off him, but as he took a step closer a small wave pulsed from him. Like a gust of wind, ceasing the chaos and shouting and bringing silence. An invisible force catches him by the front of the chest and pulls him upward into the air, causing him to cry out in panic. He looks around and sees the same thing happening to those around them. Even the scattered leaves and stones are caught in the air as though reality in that moment had taken a break. Each of them caught in some sort of invisible suspension. A heat started at the back of Leo’s eyes and burned forward like an inferno. He squeezes his eyes shut in order to try and stop it but his eyelids are forced open, revealing golden eyes with white flecks radiating from his eyes as the world suddenly turned white. He lashes his arms and legs out around him stupidly to try and grab something when he notices a person standing in front of him, outlined in a green flame with yellow eyes staring right at him, though there aren’t any real characteristics, Leo can tell it’s a human of sorts with a large pompadour. It reaches up to touch him but he can't’ help but flinch away, whether out of fear the fire would burn him or the stranger itself he doesn’t know. But then the figure tilts his head to the side as though saying ‘I understand’.

Before Leo could say anything, he’s not even sure he could in this state, the figure suddenly twists into itself and takes the shape of a five-petal lotus flower before burning away. Then he hears a man's voice behind him, as though something is whispering to him

“Come find me.”

As quick as it all starts, it ends. Leo hits the ground hard and gasps loudly, rubbing at his tear-filled eyes as he looks around him. Too shocked to yell, but he can tell he’s not the only one confused. Raph had already pulled himself up next to Mikey to check on him, who’s now rubbing ineffectively at eyes streaming with tears. The Thief is several steps away, as though eh had thrown himself as far them as possible, and is checking his trembling hands as though making sure they weren’t about to explode on him. But after a few glances at each other, as though reassuring themselves they had all experienced the same thing. They had one question for each other:

“Who are you?”

Part 2=>>

#rottmnt #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanfiction #fantasy au #donnie #leo #raph #mikey #angst #hurt/comfort #do not go gentle #rottmnt fantasy au

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stutterfly · 5 years ago

Text

Swipe Right 01 | Context Switch | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst [later on], humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 12.8K

Fic Summary: Jungkook wasn’t always like this. Or maybe he was and you don’t want to admit that he had you fooled. You quickly discover he has a lot more to offer than exchanging pleasantries and awkward small talk. In fact, he never seems to shut up.

For the better part of a year, he’s held your irritation hostage, never passing up an opportunity to deliver savage one-liners at your expense. When he discovers you’re on Tinder, he turns up the brattiness factor and intentionally seeks you out. Who knows? Maybe if you gave him a chance he could charm the pants right off of you. Then again, maybe he’s just a fuckboy.

Tags: Fuckboy Jungkook, like cannot stress enough Fuckboy Jungkook but gets soft later, dirty jokes, talk nerdy to me, PUNS, friendship feels, sexual tension, Jin being bad at copying Mario’s accent, Namjoon being bad at accents

CW: panic attacks, filthy language, this whole chapter is setup so like nothing too bad i dont think???

Series: Activate your SIMCard Fic: Swipe Right (1/?- Ongoing) Do not repost. masterlist // next chapter

(A/N: This is part of my “Activate Your SIMcard” series. Each member of BTS has their own AU in which IT/TechSupport/NerdReader gets dating help/advice and ends up falling in love with them instead. As with a dating sim, the same characters are utilized--same professions, similar scenario placement-- but different interactions/pathways lead to different romances. ~Anyway here’s the Jungkook route.~ The Namjoon route, “Love Bytes” is currently in the works.)

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Nerves wrack your stomach as you make your way down the hall, clinging to the man beside you. His strides seem gigantic next to yours and you find yourself struggling to keep up with him. “Stop walking so fast, Namjoon.”

The man laughs, but slows his pace just enough to allow you to walk side-by-side. “Sorry. I’m just excited for you to meet them.”

Digging your fingernails into the flesh of his elbow, you swallow hard. It’s been a couple months since the young English professor stumbled into your life holding the pieces of some very expensive, very shattered college property. State of the art technology, brand new, busted in less than a week of his arrival. He’d get the biggest chew-out of his life if he presented it to your boss, and you were too sympathetic to let that happen.

While you’d willingly paid for the whole thing out of pocket to cover for the newbie, it had definitely put a strain on your finances and what little social life you had. Within a week he’d worked up a repayment plan than spanned the course of a year. He even started buying you a coffee every Friday as an apology for how long it was going to take.

After a few months of bonding over kung-fu movies, life before Namjoon’s friendship seemed like a distant past, a hazy dream. It was natural that your new bestie wanted to grow your pitiful social circle. But there was a reason you didn’t let people get close to you. The fact that Namjoon had slipped past your defenses so fast made him an anomaly worth dissecting for scientific discovery.

Just the thought of having to now socialize with people you don’t know has your temperature boiling and your head spinning.

He attempts to tug his elbow away from you, and you stumble forward, keeping your death grip on him. “I know, but talking to people isn’t exactly my strong suit. Are you sure it’s best I meet all six at once?”

“You’ve already met Jimin,” he begins, clawing at your hand with long, veiny fingers until you release your hold on him, “but he’s not coming tonight, so don’t worry... you can relax a little.”

Your face twists into a sour grimace as you try to sputter out a response. “I-Pfft. I mean. Jimin’s a model. His face is on billboards and shit. Like… how is that supposed to not be intimidating?”

“Jimin is the world’s biggest sweetheart,” he laughs, shoving his hands into his pockets as you continue down the hallway. “You don’t have anything to be afraid of. I have a feeling you two will get along fine once you stop being so shy.”

You huff and tick your jaw a few times before wringing your hands together. Maybe.

“Anyway. Taehyung is out of town on business, but you can meet him another time. He’s kind of quiet when meeting new people too. Hoseok and Yoongi texted they might be a little late. It’ll just be Jin and Jungkook you’re meeting now. And it’ll be just the four of us for a bit.”

A deep breath escapes you as you hook your elbow with his. “Okay. I just… I’m nervous.”

He stops at the door at the end of the hall and looks down at you. “Give them a chance. If you’re still feeling bad in an hour, then we’ll leave, and I’ll hang out with y’all separately from now on. Deal?”

You eye his extended palm peeking out from beneath the crook of your twined elbows before a smile creeps across your face. You shake his hand. He always knows what to say. “Deal.”

As Namjoon knocks, you leave the comfort of his side, realizing how your anxious clinging might be mistaken for a romantic gesture. You begin to shrink back, trying to hide in his shadow before the door opens. You’re about halfway there when a young, well-built man appears, prominent leg muscles bulging from beneath his basketball shorts as he props the door open with his foot. There’s a cup of instant noodles in his hands, and you’re pretty sure at least half of its contents are dangling from his mouth.

The scent of garlic and rosemary drifts into your nostrils, and you freeze as you cower behind Namjoon, realizing how long it’s been since you last had a decent home-cooked meal. You were promised free food so maybe it won't be so bad after all.

“Ah, Namjoon,” he greets and gestures with his head towards the domicile. “Come in--Oh!”

He chokes a chunk of noodles back into the paper cup as he notices your figure standing behind the tall man.

“Jungkook, this is Y/N,” Namjoon says, stepping to the side and pushing you out into the light of the apartment “I told you she was coming tonight, remember?”

Jungkook’s dark brown eyes widen and he pumps a fist into his chest a few times as he tries to get the remnants of spicy noodles dislodged from the back of his throat. Namjoon sent a bunch of texts this week making sure it was cool to bring someone to hangout night since he’d made a friend at work and wanted everyone to meet them. The way the texts were worded definitely didn’t give any indication that the friend he was bringing tonight was a woman. Maybe they did. Maybe he should have read more of them.

The muscular man before you holds the remaining food in his cheeks and waves bashfully with two fingers as he swallows. "Jungkook," he mumbles, as if the name itself is introduction enough and all but sprints from the room.

Seconds later, a new voice shrieks out from the other room. “What are you doing eating that?! Dinner will be ready soon! Jungkookie if you don’t put that down--!”

A dull smacking sound accompanies the clattering of silverware and plates. You swallow hard, trying to think about anything other than the way the young man had rushed out of the room at just the sight of you. Maybe you’re just that ugly.

“Hey! I’ll eat! I’ll eat! I promise!” Jungkook cries out. His voice drops an octave. “Namjoon is here.” Their conversation becomes indiscernible, but you can’t shake the feeling that you are definitely the subject of their quiet discussion.

You throw a worried glance in Namjoon's direction. "Did I do something wrong?" your voice is hushed as you work your sneakers off, trying to hold in the crazy amount of anxiety that threatens to unscrew the top of your head and send your brain exploding into the ceiling.

Namjoon shakes his head, unbothered by his friend’s odd behavior. "Honestly, I texted him a bunch this week to make sure it was cool and I got one-word replies so I'm wondering if he even read them." He bites his lip and spares a glance back at you, knowing he probably should have kept that to himself.

"Oh," your heart sinks into your stomach and threatens to fall out your butt as you straighten your spine. "If that's the case, should I... leave?"

"Leaf?!" A bright green piece of lettuce is thrust into your face. "How about a whole salad? You can't go before you try it! It's unbe-leaf-able."

You blink in rapid succession, trying to stifle a laugh at the cackle emanating from the man whose bony fingers are holding the lettuce. It sounds like a... windshield wiper? A giggle slips out, stronger than your will to keep it tucked behind your lips, and it only seems to make the grin on his face stretch impossibly wider. Heavy shoulders rise and fall with his laughter, causing the bright pink apron across his chest to wrinkle.

Namjoon groans. "This is--"

"Now do you smell that delicious flavor in the air? Because this just a taste of what you will find at my amazing restaurant 'Heart and Seoul'," he announces, cutting off the man beside you as he clutches the lettuce to his chest with eyes closed. "Where I give you a piece of my heart and soul... Some refer to me as Worldwide Handsome, others call me the God of Cookery. Some call me an angel and believe I fell from heaven." He bows with a flourish and takes your hand in his. "But you can call me..." He finally looks at you, a dark smoulder in his features that sets your cheeks on fire. "Later?"

He seals your fate with a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. Your jaw, which has been hanging open for some time, finally decides to snap itself shut.

"This is Seokjin, and he's going back into the kitchen to finish making dinner." Namjoon is already ushering his friend back towards the kitchen and chiding him as you purse your lips together to hide the smile spreading across your face. Did you just stumble into some alternate universe where all of the men you meet are ridiculously good-looking?

"It's nice to meet you, Seokjin," you call after them before letting your eyes wander around the room.

Paintings line the walls and photos sit on the bookshelf in the corner. As you approach the shelf to get a closer look, you realize those aren't books, but video games. There must be hundreds. Don't people use cloud storage for most of their games now? Your eyes curiously scan the photos on the top shelf. The man who had introduced himself as Jungkook is in all of them. There's another man in a couple that you don't recognize, but his gaze is piercing and cold when he's not smiling. You're able to pick Jimin and Namjoon out in a few, but it feels like looking at a family photo. Everyone seems so close; it makes you envious.

You lick your lips and can't help but admire the collection of video games underneath. You crouch to get a better look at the ones lining the bottom shelf. You're surprised to see there are games for all types of consoles: PS4, XboxOne, Switch, WiiU, Nintendo DS, SuperNintendo, PlaystationVita, PC... The list keeps going. Jealousy spikes your gut as you note a Mass Effect "SSV Normandy" ship figurine on the shelf above your head. You eye it with wonder and pride as your memories flood with the hours you spent playing the trilogy. Your fingers reach out to brush against the raised letters on the side of the ship.

"Have you played Mass Effect?" a quiet voice asks from behind you.

You jump in place and spin on the balls of your feet in a fluid motion that nearly sends you careening into the basketball shorts in front of you. Surprised by how close Jungkook is standing, you gasp and stumble back into the bookshelf, causing it to wobble and bring some of the frames filled with photos tumbling down onto your head. You wait for the impact but it never comes.

As you look up, Jungkook has several frames balanced on his arms and between his fingers, carefully maneuvering them away from you and back onto the shelf. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! Namjoon told me you liked video games too and I saw you looking at the Normandy and I thought maybe you've played it. Ah, I'm sorry."

It's hard to miss the crestfallen way he rubs the back of his neck and stares at the floor once he places all the photos back on the shelf. You're still in shock that he caught everything before it smacked you in the head, but you force yourself to respond anyway. "No, it's okay. I'm just a jumpy person. It's my fault. I'm just glad I didn't break anything. I'm... asari? Get it? 'Cause like, I'm sorry... but also hot blue alien chicks, am I right?"

He smiles wide and laughs softly as he offers to help you up. As you take hold of his hand, you're quickly thrust to your feet with an ease you weren’t quite expecting. You steady yourself by reaching out to grip his arm, a movement you reverse the moment you feel the firm muscles beneath his t-shirt.

"Thanks," you mumble. Feeling his hand tense around yours, you take it back and twiddle your fingers. "So what decisions did you make? Renegade or Paragon? Rachni Queen? Samara's mission? Quarian and Geth dispute? Genophage?" You pause only to take a breath. "If you let Wrex die, we can't be friends."

He blinks at you a few times before breaking into a relaxed smile. “Of course not. What kind of monster do you think I am?”

You allow a relieved sigh to pass your lips. Maybe this wouldn’t be so painful after all.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You must have made a good impression that night. It’s been nearly a month and Namjoon’s friends have started pulling you into their group texts and Saturday night plans. This had been fine by you since you rarely had anything going on. Honestly it was kind of nice to be included.

While you still don’t exactly know everyone, you feel fairly comfortable talking with your new friends. Seokjin is absolutely hilarious. He’s so full of himself that his cockiness rides the line between charming and annoying; it’s hard to decide which aspect overwhelms his personality more. But you know that you find him irrefutably, irritatingly attractive because of it.

Jungkook is still polite and rather gentlemanly towards you. Your conversation about Mass Effect was enough to tide over any residual awkwardness regarding your initial meeting. He’s just a muscular, nerdy introvert who seems genuinely nice. However, Namjoon insists that Jungkook is still hiding a louder, brattier side when you’re around. He’s got this theory that since you’re a friend of a friend, Jungkook is holding back his usual antics for some reason. The harmless little crush you’ve developed on him has you secretly holding out hope that it’s because he wants to ask you to be his girlfriend. You’ve considered asking Jin what he thinks, but that man has no tact and honestly you’re afraid he’d just ask Jungkook with you standing right there.

Hoseok is a ball of smiling energy, one who has been begging you to visit his dance studio. It’s hard to say no, but you’ve managed for this long because of the very real possibility that you won’t be able to do anything but stare at the dazzling way he moves. He seems to take pride in his ability to make others feel good and absolutely beams when he’s the cause of his friends’ happiness. You can easily see yourself talking to him without Namjoon around to act as a buffer, which is amazing for someone with your level of social anxiety.

Yoongi is quiet, but when he speaks his words are sharp with purpose. Some people might mistake that for coldness, but you can tell he has good intentions and a soft heart underneath. His pointed remarks in the group interrogations have poked fun at you, but never in a condescending or cruel manner. And it’s certainly not in the way you see him absolutely roast the others. Maybe he’s taking it easy on you.

Jimin is still so beautiful to look at it devastates you, leaving a flustered, stuttering mess behind every time he leaves. Now that he’s become aware of the effect he has on you, he’s been testing the waters of your friendship with some teasing that borderlines flirtation. But you have a feeling he’s just screwing with you because he finds it funny to see you squirm. You’re hoping to build the confidence to dish it back some day.

Taehyung has been a little standoff-ish, but Namjoon had already warned you about that. You wonder if it’s because he’s a hundred times richer than you’ll ever be. Despite seeming like he’s in a different social class, he still seems deeply fond of his friends, and relatively down-to-earth. He’s a bit quirky, but he’s an artist, so you expect that kind of thing.

Namjoon says that he’s known almost all of them since college, so he’s been able to absorb most of the discomfort associated with meeting new people. He’s sweet, and more relatable than you originally would have thought for an English professor. He’s kind of like a pillar that you never knew your life had been missing. And now that he’s got your back, you can’t go back.

The smell of coffee pervades the air as you skim an article on your phone regarding the latest Halloween skins for Overwatch. You’re supposed to be meeting Namjoon here but Seokjin, and Jimin showed up and have been chatting about their plans for the weekend. Apparently they throw a Halloween party every year and it’s Jimin’s turn to host. Seokjin is supposedly in charge of planning the decorations due to his love for theatrics and has been discussing the possibility of a haunted house walkthrough. You smile at the thought of Seokjin popping out of the shadows to drop fake spiderwebs on people. It sounds like the kind of thing he’d get off to.

Namjoon flops down on the couch next to you. “You’re coming, right?”

You’re broken from your thoughts as you scroll further down the page. “E-Excuse me?”

“The Halloween party. You coming?”

You look up from your phone, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. “I mean… I don’t want to intrude on your group thing.”

“You’re not intruding!” Jimin, Jin, and Namjoon’s voices all stack upon each other and you’re taken aback by the sound.

Jin frantically scrambles to make you feel included. “Y/N, we just assumed you were coming. Of course you’re invited! You can help me get everything set up for the scary walkthrough. Please come.”

“Don’t give her work to do that you should have already figured out,” Jimin hisses before sending a warm smile your way. “I’ll text you the address later. It’s a costume party so make sure to dress up!”

Your bottom lip unconsciously protrudes in a pout as you pass a discouraging look Namjoon’s way. “What are you going as?”

He gives you a heartfelt, dimpled smile. “Sherlock Holmes,” he says with the worst british accent you’ve ever heard in your life. “World’s greatest detective.” He drops his accent and starts gushing. “The tweed suit is fairly iconic and most people will recognize the costume so I think it’s a safe option. Originally, I was going to go as Judge Di but Jimin kept telling me no one would get it. It would take some research to really get a feel for how he’d dress, but I’d be willing to put in the work.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Judge Dee? Like…. Judge... Ju...dy?” you trail off in confusion, immediately regretting your decision to ask.

Jimin throws his hands up as if this is the proof he’s needed to convince his friend that he’s wrong. “You see? I told you no one knows who that is.”

“Judge---! Really?!” Namjoon looks like he’s about to go off, but he shakes his head and sighs. “You know what? It’s okay. I look really good in a tweed suit. That’s all that matters.” He finished his statement by gesturing towards his chest.

You can’t help but laugh. “You’re such a dork.” You turn your attention to the others and raise your eyebrows at them. “What about you two?”

Jimin drags his teeth over his lip and shyly smiles. “I’m going as Iron Man. Tae’s been helping me build my costume for a while now.”

“Jungkookie and I are going as Luigi and Mario,” Jin proudly states he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees while tenting his fingers. “I’m Mario, of course, since everyone knows he’s the best.”

You roll your eyes. “Sounds like you, Seokjin.”

“What will you come as?” he questions with a smirk, cocking a mischievous eyebrow at you.

“Well...” you hesitate, knowing that most costume shops will be sold out of anything interesting or slutty; at this point your options are limited unless you want to be a Crayola shit brown crayon. “I’m not sure yet,” you mumble, scratching your cheek sheepishly. “I only found out just now so I don’t have anything ready. I usually go over Jennie’s place, hand out candy in my pajamas and watch scary movies, so I don’t know if I should bail on her like that.”

Solid excuse. Great job, brain. Really. Can I sound like more of a loser?

“She can come too,” Jimin offers with a thoughtful tilt of his head and a warm smile. “It’s a very open party. Lots of people will be coming and going, so it’s no trouble if you want to invite more of your other friends, if that makes you comfortable.”

Other friends. Like you have more than this group and Jennie. You’re going to just pretend like you didn’t hear that part. You can already hear her shrieking at you to say you’ll be there. She loves dressing up and would be more than happy to exchange a night of handing out candy for a night of partying. You suppose you can always get some vampire teeth and dab some fake blood on your mouth, but it feels like a cop-out. It’s a solid back-up plan at the very least.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” you murmur with a fleeting look of panic directed at Namjoon.

He offers a sympathetic smile and pats your shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t come. I’m just saying there will be free food.”

Your spine straightens and you perk up.

“Free food?” The words on you’re about to utter spill from a different source. A chin drops into the space between Namjoon’s shoulder and yours. Jungkook’s hair is still wet, but thankfully it’s not long enough to brush against your skin. The soft, sweet, almost floral scent of his body wash wafts into your nose as you turn your head to look at him. You surmise he’s come directly from work if he’s showering in the late afternoon. You internally swat the butterflies playing with your ribcage, trying to remember how to act normal.

Jungkook smiles sweetly, his eyes nearly closing with how high his cheekbones have risen. “Where is this food?”

“At the Halloween party,” Namjoon comments with a dismissing wave of his hand. “I was just telling Y/N that she’ll miss out if she doesn’t come.”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows and drops his smile as his surprised stare pierces your periphery. “Oh, you’re not coming?”

“I was thinking about it.” You immediately feel the need to defend yourself. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

“So don’t wear--” Jungkook catches himself before the word anything comes out. “A costume,” he finishes simply, straightening his spine and clearing his throat. “I mean we can make an exception. No one’s gonna kick you out.”

A devilish grin spreads across Seokjin’s features. “I’m sure I can help you find a pink dress and crown if you’d like to be our lovely Princess Peach. We can give each other items.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at his friend and Jin stares back with anticipation, waiting for him to make the mushroom joke he clearly set him up for. Jungkook purses his lips and quietly regards you. As the moment passes, Jin’s brow furrows and he crosses his arms in a huff, wishing that he’d said it instead. It’s been too long since you’ve blushed for his liking.

“Maybe I’ll show up in a leotard, spiked collar, and fishnets as Bowsette instead.” You nearly snort at your own joke.

Jungkook and Jin spill their surprise over one another.

“Whaa? Really?” Jin’s mouth hangs open, the image already permanently searing its way into his brain.

“You what?” Jungkook clamps his hands over the edge of the couch, hulking figure looming over you.

While Jimin and Namjoon are both oblivious what a Bowsette is, the words “spiked collar and fishnets” have certainly grabbed their attention as well.

You blink a few times, realizing how serious everyone has become as you sputter out a nervous laugh. “Kidding, guys. Kidding.”

Jin tuts in disappointment, slinking back into his chair. Jimin simply smiles. Namjoon breathes a relieved sigh. Jungkook starts walking away, distracted by the signage on the counter promoting a cinnamon chocolate chip milkshake.

“Besides, I’m more of a…” A lightbulb flicks on in your head and the thought comes spilling out your mouth before you can process it. “Oh, I have a cosplay from the gaming convention I went to a year ago. Maybe I can wear that.”

All three men lean forward, suddenly very interested in the concept of you using a cosplay as a Halloween costume. Jungkook’s head snaps in your direction just as he extends his hand to give his money to the cashier, but he drops it prematurely, sending coins scattering across the counter.

The sound causes all of you to look over at him and he quickly turns back to the cashier. She raises her eyebrows at him as he scrambles to recover all of the money for her. His ears turn bright red from the attention and you can’t help but put yourself in his shoes, cringing at the embarrassment coursing through your veins at the thought of swapping places.

Spinning back to face the others, you find Jin and Jimin on the edge of their seats, staring at you. Namjoon blinks at you and tilts his head expectantly. “You were saying?” he prods. “Something about an anime costume?”

Suddenly you’re embarrassed for yourself rather than Jungkook. “Don’t be weird, Joonie. It’s just a Princess Zelda cosplay.” You scratch your cheek in contemplation, murmuring, “Actually, I don’t even know if it still fits since I’ve gained some weight since then.”

Namjoon pats your shoulder assuringly. “Ah you’re fine. Don’t worry too much about it, ok?”

“He’s right. Just bring your smile, cutie,” Jimin says encouragingly.

You blush at the nickname and grin in response. He said it innocently enough, but you get the feeling that you reacted exactly as he had hoped because he exchanges a smug smirk with Seokjin. “See? Bring that.”

“Ah, you guys are embarrassing me,” you mumble, diving back into the article on your phone. “I’ll talk to Jennie about it later.”

Jungkook listens carefully as he tongues his cheek and waits for his drink to arrive at the counter. Are you really going to show up in that? He pulls out his phone and starts skimming amazon. There’s no way he can pass up the opportunity, regardless of what’s at stake.

A familiar veiny hand sets the drink down on the counter, and he outstretches his palm. “Service was good, yeah?”

Jungkook looks up from the checkout page and locks eyes with Yoongi. He scoops a large portion of whipped cream from beneath the lid and pops it in his mouth thoughtfully, smacking his lips as he washes it down with a sip through his straw. Yoongi raises his eyebrows at him expectantly, but remains silent.

“Hmm, I’ve had better. Maybe if I had some more whipped cream?” Jungkook suggests as he tilts his cup forward and gives it the tiniest shake, shit-eating grin strewn across his features.

Unblinking, Yoongi squirts a puff of cream into the top of the container before loudly setting the can on the counter. Satisfied, Jungkook reaches into his pocket and fishes out some money for a generous tip. “See this is why you’re my favorite barista. You always make it just how I like it.”

Yoongi forces a smile as he stuffs the cash into the half-filled tip jar. “The Java Stop values your patronage, customer.”

He catches a glimpse of Jungkook’s phone screen before the younger man snatches it from the counter and walks away. What the hell is he up to?

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You curse your past self for choosing Zelda’s outfit from Twilight Princess rather than Breath of the Wild; style over comfort rarely is a good choice, but it’s a choice you often repeat without forethought. It’s tighter than you remember, and not just because there’s a corset sewn into the chestpiece. As you sit in the passenger’s seat of Jennie’s Civic, you fidget with the hem of your dress. Without taking her eyes off the road, she reaches over and slaps your hand.

“Stop it. You look great.”

You rub the back of your wrist and pout, knowing it does nothing to change her mind. You eye her tattered dress, wishing you could pull off something so slutty with the same confidence she does. White contacts make her look even more ethereal than she normally does. Natural waves and curls poke out from beneath the bent witch’s hat atop her head and you can’t help but admire her beauty.

“I look like a nerd,” you say, feeling shittier the longer you compare yourself to her. It’s not her fault. You’re just insecure and wish that you could be more like her rather than the you that you are.

“You are a nerd,” she laughs. “What’s wrong with that?”

You smile. “Nothing, I guess. I don’t know why I’m so worried about it. It’s not like I’m gonna be getting laid any time soon. This costume solidifies it.” Negativity is something you’re used to dosing yourself with, but you know it’s an action you need to work at correcting.

“Hey if no one wants to fuck you in a Zelda costume, do they even deserve to fuck you?” Jennie asks, wagging her pointer at the ceiling as if scolding some invisible source above. “I don’t fucking think so.” She tuts for a second. “So speaking of… Which ones are off limits?”

You scoff and stiffen in your seat, trying to play dumb. “What? What’s off limits?”

“Y/N,” she starts in an accusatory tone. “I’m sure there will be lots of hot people there, but I’m talking about seven hot people in particular. Now if they came up to me and said ‘hey Jennie you so fine you wanna suck all seven of our dicks?’ I’d be like hell yeah I’ma suck all seven dicks. Get in a circle and let me at ‘em.”

You smack your hand to your forehead, wishing you could purge that image from your brain.

“Now I’m just saying in this hypothetical situation that I would never turn down going down on any of them if they asked. Unless I remembered that one time you told me you were crushing, maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t suck that particular dick.”

“We’re about to go see these people. I don’t want to be thinking about this while sipping my drinks across from Seokjin. That man can smell fear, shame, and insecurity,” you mumble, looking out the window at the trees lining the side of the road.

“So that’s why we get it out now before we get there. Can’t possibly slip out if you’ve already got it out of your system,” she explains with a confident smirk.

You cross your arms and give yourself a moment to truly think about the seven men. You certainly find all of them attractive, but crossing that line might make things weird. But maybe, hypothetically… “I don’t know… They’re all pretty hot in their own way…”

“You’ve got to be attracted to one more than the others,” she prods. “Come on, Y/N. Which one does it for you?”

Your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth before you sigh. “I guess…” You subconsciously lick your lips and give it a few seconds before the memory of falling picture frames surfaces in your mind. An embarrassed smile flickers across your face as you give your quiet, honest answer. “J-Jeon… Jungkook.”

“The young one!” Her mouth falls open. She drums her fingers against the steering wheel excitedly and spares a delightful, yet surprised look at you for a fraction of a second before her eyes return to the road. “Really? I never would have guessed. But I haven’t talked to him much honestly. Doesn’t he work at that nerdy-looking gym you almost joined? What was it, Iron Kingdom? You could always sign up for personal training. Ya know, get some one-on-one time with those muscles...”

“He’ll think I’m dumb for not knowing how to do anything,” you mumble. “Besides that’s not why.”

You shake your head and pause to start counting the list on your fingers. “Okay so he’s got muscles, a cute laugh, he likes video games, he literally always smells so fucking good, he has a great smile, he’s nice, and like he’s so mature for his age. I’m so surprised.”

“I mean from the few times I’ve seen him, I thought for sure he’d be a tool and a major shithead,” she admits.

“I know, but seriously don’t judge a book by its cover. He’s been so chill and respectful and has made me feel so welcome over the last few weeks. None of that fuckboy shit you’d expect to get with younger guys like, he doesn’t talk over me, no mansplaining, he looks me in the eyes and not at my tits, and listens when I say something, even if it’s just me talking about my day.” You pause, registering the words you just said. “Wow, the bar is really low, isn’t it?”

“Sad, but true.” She nods, glancing at the GPS on the dashboard. It’s says you’re nearly there, but it’s kind of further out from the city than you’d both been expecting.

She laughs, mulling over everything you’ve said. “He seems kinda shy. You probably need to make the first move. Maybe you should tell him you have a big fat crush on him. Tell him you wanna hold his hand. Do you think he’d blush? I bet he would. I bet he has a cute flustered face. You should totally do it.”

Recalling the way his ears turned red at the cafe causes you to purse your lips, but the action can’t hide the smile curling at the corners of your mouth. So you have a little crush on Jungkook. Who wouldn’t? He’s practically flawless and totally swoon-worthy. Your heart races as you imagine his reaction to your outfit. Would he be taken aback by how good you look as one of the hottest, most iconic female characters in gaming history? He’s a huge geek so you know there’s a possibility that he could appreciate it. Sweaty fingers work their way down your wig, carefully smoothing out any loose strands. You hope he does.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Walking into Jimin’s place feels like entering a mansion. He told you that he lives with two other people from the same modeling agency, but you didn’t realize how big the place would be. Seokjin’s ability to gather this many decorations and display them with such attention to ambiance is certainly a feat worthy of praise. You find yourself lost in the orange and yellow lights that border each doorway and drape along the walls. Their soft glow is comforting as you walk down the dim hallway, exploring the house just enough to find the table filled with fruits and snacks.

Jungkook is nowhere to be seen and you find yourself breathing a sigh of relief as you sip punch out of a red plastic cup, filling a plate with an excessive amount of strawberries, peaches, and other sweet fruits. Contrary to your previous belief that admission would mean freedom from the thoughts swirling in your brain, uttering the words out loud has made you paranoid that everyone now knows about your secret crush. You’re hoping that drinking will remove the worry from your brain, so you do your best to down the liquid fast and refill your cup.

Jennie immediately hit it off with one of Jimin’s roommates moments after walking in. You’re envious because holy fuck that guy is tall and jacked, and he’s wearing a Captain America outfit. Jennie is about to make out with Captain America and you’re gulping down spiked punch from a little plastic cup. You appreciate being able to silently agree to split, but know that you have each other’s back if either of you were to suddenly express interest in leaving, even if Captain America is balls deep.

She’s an extrovert. She loves socializing. Tossing a strawberry into your mouth, you eye the table of snacks again. You don’t. You love food. Food or sex would be a tough toss-up for you depending on the menu, and in this situation food definitely wins. There’s a buffet table of appetizers looping around the room and into the kitchen. It doesn’t get much better than this, especially knowing it was catered by Seokjin’s restaurant.

You remove a glove and tuck it beneath your armpit as you stuff your face full of sweet treats and survey the amount of people on the dance-floor. There are a good amount of people here --some with ludicrous costumes-- and it makes you feel better about being able to blend in.

You had arrived fashionably late only because Jennie may have passed the house a few times, thinking this place couldn't possibly be it. A hand skates around the periphery of your vision and you frown as it attempts to surreptitiously claim a peach slice from your plate. Following the hand to its owner, you find a smile quickly claiming your mouth in place of the previous sour grimace.

"There's plenty of peaches left over there," you say, pointing to the table of snacks beside you.

"Mmm," Namjoon hums as he pockets the fruit in his cheek. "But this pile is better. I can deduce that you've already picked out the best pieces, Zelda."

You look him over from head to toe, examining the details of his tweed suit. You hate to admit he's looking dapper as fuck in this outfit. Despite often wearing three-piece suits to work, you rarely have time to stop and really appreciate just how flattering they are on his frame. Your eyes settle on the dark brown silk carefully knotted around his neck. "Don't you get sick of wearing ties?"

His eyes widen and he blinks at you as if you'd just told him that he sat in some gum. "Do you think I should have gone with the bow-tie? I spent hours weighing the pros and cons to both and which would be more quintessential to the whole ensemble. Did I make the wrong choice?"

You open your mouth to respond, meaning to allay his concerns and tell him that he looks fine, but he interrupts rather quickly. "You know what, don't say anything. I brought the bow-tie as a backup. It's upstairs in the guest bedroom. I'll go put it on."

You grab his arm just as he's about to leave, noting the plate full of chicken wings precariously balanced on one hand. "Namjoon. Chill. Your tie looks fine. I was only asking because I would strangle myself if I wore one all the time. Now gimme some of that chicken."

His eyes dart from you to the plate in his hand and his anxiety seems to visibly melt away, replaced with a soft smile. "I'm overthinking again, huh?"

The words have never come easier than they do now. "No shit, Sherlock."

At that he offers a laugh. "How about a trade? I share the wings for access to the princess's treasury of peaches."

"Deal," you agree with a smirk, wiggling your eyebrows up and down. "Wanna people-watch with me?"

He nods enthusiastically as he tosses a handful of fresh fruit directly from your plate into his mouth. "I was gonna wander aimlessly and socialize but this sounds way better."

"Glad we're on the same page," you murmur into the chicken wing at your lips, sucking the sauce off of it and scanning the room for any particular eye-catching costumes.

The flash of red, flowing satin catches your eye. Is someone wearing a bathrobe? Seriously? The taste of hot buffalo sauce causes your lips to tingle as you note the soft, fuzzy edges of the robe. It looks comfy, actually.

You elbow Namjoon in the ribs, directing his attention to the slender, black-haired figure gliding across the room. Namjoon opens his mouth as if to identify the stranger, but the flourish of the robe beats him to it. As the material spins, you catch a glimpse of tan skin peeking out from the chest, long legs exposed as he reaches for the sash at his waist.

The silk billows as it comes undone, cascading to the floor like a river of crimson. There's no mistaking it. You're now staring at the nearly nude, half-painted body of Kim Taehyung. You can't help the way you jaw drops open at the sight of so much skin being flaunted seemingly without a care in the world. Namjoon's hand flies up to cover your eyes, as if he's going to spare you the sight you've already taken in. Now that you've seen Taehyung in a thong, there's no going back.

Sauce-covered fingers pry his away from your eyes just in time to meet the piercing gaze of the man across the room. Is it mirth or anger that graces his features? It's hard to tell with a paintbrush trapped in the box his teeth make. He takes lazy strides across the room as you struggle to keep your eyes off the unforgiving fabric outlining every last curve of his dick. It's not until he's closer that you notice the thin belts crossing his hips, which appear to be holding six tubes of paint, three strapped to each side like gun-holsters. You have to admit they frame his crotch rather nicely.

It takes every ounce of willpower you possess to keep your eyes trained on his face. He carefully takes the paintbrush out from between his teeth and extends it to you. "Draw something pretty on me, Y/N. You too, Joon. Tonight I'm a human canvas on display for the universe."

Your eyebrow quirks as you exchange a look with Namjoon and set your plate down. "You know people are just going to draw a bunch of dicks on you, right?"

He scoffs, waving off your concerns. "Don't be so negative. I will have a beautiful mural by the end of the night. Mark my words."

"I think you're putting too much trust in the goodness of human nature," Namjoon comments, his lips pressing together in an attempt to hide the amused grin that is quickly spreading across his features.

Taehyung cocks his head to the side and leans forward with a lopsided grin. You're afraid he's about to get even closer and whisper some dirty secret into your ear. Instead he asks in a breathy, low tone, "Princess Zelda wouldn't draw such dirty things on me, would she?"

Twirling the thick handle of the paintbrush between your fingers, your eyes dip to the paints secured at his waist. His eyes chase the trail yours make down his side and his delight splits his mouth into a goofy grin. "Oh. Help yourself." He gestures to the colors available with a sweep of his hands just above his hips. "Feel free to use your fingers instead.” He pauses when your mouth falls open slightly. “You know, to paint... Just be careful what you grab, Princess," he jokes.

Removing your other glove with your teeth, you drape them over your shoulder and reach out for the tube of yellow paint, trying to hide the way your hand trembles. He looks down and smiles as the cold paint touches his skin. Before long you have the faint shape of 3 triangles at the center of his chest.

“How fitting,” he murmurs, offering an amused hum as you fill in the last triangle with a glob of yellow that threatens to run down his torso.

“Oops, sorry,” you apologize, moving to tap the brush against the excess, but he grabs your wrist before the bristles can make contact with his skin again.

“That’s alright. Let it do what it does. I like it like this,” he says, watching the clump of paint slowly slide down his midriff. “Besides I’m sure someone else can use it.”

“Like Sherlock!” you suggest, holding the paintbrush out for your companion.

Namjoon takes it begrudgingly and uses the excess yellow to draw a small smiley face beside the triforce symbol.

“Cute,” Taehyung laughs as he takes the paintbrush back from Namjoon. “I love it. Thanks guys.”

Just as he turns to find his next artist, a long object bars his path, pressing against his chest just above the collarbone. You follow the shape of the bar to its owner, revealing a grinning Hoseok clad in an officer’s uniform.

“That’s a bold choice Taehyungie,” he says, securing the faux nightstick into a loop at his waist. “Just make sure you keep that thing on…” He gestures to the small bit of material at Taehyung’s crotch and holds up a pair of handcuffs with his index finger before continuing, “or I’ll have to arrest you for indecent exposure.”

“Impersonating an officer is a crime, you know,” Namjoon says, even as he’s reaching out to touch the shiny metal. “Wait. Where did you get these? Are they real?”

You squint at the device in Namjoon’s hands, looking for the safety release latch like the cheap pair you bought to use with your ex. You don’t see it. That can only mean that these are the kind where losing the keys would have real consequences. But you’re not about to out yourself as the kinky freak you are, so you bring your nearly forgotten drink to your lips and guzzle what’s left in the cup.

As the empty plastic hits the table, your eyes happen to trail across the room and land on a crowd of people gathering around a very impressive, fully-lit Iron Man costume. Jimin seems to be soaking the attention up as the crowd grows ever larger. The massive room has begun to diminish in size, and it’s as though the once comforting lights are now wilting and closing in on you, threatening to strangle the air from your lungs. The adrenalin spiking your veins is telling you it’s time to seek the comfort of open space and solitude. Fast.

You duck beneath Namjoon and Hoseok’s arms, carefully sidestepping around Taehyung to avoid brushing against the wet paint on his skin. “I’m gonna get some air. Try not to get cuffed, Sherlock,” you manage to joke with a smile before turning on your heels and booking it from the room.

If anyone responds to your joke or even acknowledges your exit at all, it’s lost on your ears. Sweat beads on the back of your neck as you hastily attempt to make your way down the hall. If you can just get outside, you can breathe. You’ll be fine. You know it.

Warm bodies clutter the path to your freedom and you can’t help but feel more and more breathless by the never-ending apologies spewing from your mouth as you squeeze past each blockade. You don’t feel like yourself, even as you speak. Taking in sharp, greedy breaths like this isn’t helping. Why is this place so devoid of oxygen? Your body moves on autopilot, seeing the faces of the people you pass, but not feeling their eyes on you.

You float out of the front door, your head as light as a feather, but your eyelids feel like they’ve been anchored. You’re positive you’re about to gracefully glide down the front steps, legs becoming amorphous blobs beneath you that will surely allow you to fly. Just as you’re leaning into the momentum of gravity, two pairs of hands steady your shoulders and criss-cross around your midriff.

“Deep breaths,” Jennie’s voice briefly cuts through the ringing in your ears.

“Do you need to sit down?” The other voice spills into your eardrum as a rushed whisper, one that’s dripping with concern.

Huh? You work on steadying your breathing instead of trying to answer.

“What did she drink?” the familiar voice asks Jennie, the brief flicker of panic quashed by the evenness of his tone. “How much has she had?”

“Relax, Yoongi. Not even our lightweight champion gets drunk that fast,” Jennie reassures him as they help you seat yourself on the top step. “Are you familiar with panic attacks?”

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck and nods silently, backing up to give you some space.

“Jennie. I’m fine now. Thank you,” you mumble, shaking your head and regaining your sense of self. “I’m glad you have my back.”

“Of course. I saw you in the hall and I just knew.”

You jump when you meet the gaze of her white, eerie contacts, which causes both her and Yoongi to laugh. You look up at Yoongi. He shoves his hands into his pockets, long flowing shirt obscuring any flesh poking out from beneath it.

“Hey, you’re not dressed up,” you blurt, realizing he’s sporting a very goth, natural Yoongi look.

He scoffs before bending at the waist and baring his teeth. A single vampire fang is affixed to one of his canines.

You tilt your head like a dog hearing a strange noise. “What, only one fang?”

“Just as dangerous, princess,” he warns with a smirk, standing up straight.

You swear you see a wink, but then again maybe you’re imagining it. You have been known to exaggerate things in your head. Still your stomach somersaults and you focus your attention on Jennie. “I’m okay. I think I’m gonna chill out here for a bit. Get back in there and dance with… god what was his name? Jackson? Jae-beom?”

“Jin-young,” she corrects before biting her lip and glancing back towards the house.

“Go. Hottie McYoungie won’t wait forever,” you tease and point your thumb over at the man hovering above you. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine with toothless over here.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at the nickname but nods at Jennie. The answer seems to be satisfactory and she gifts you with a tight hug. “Text me if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay. Love you. Now go get laid.” You whisper to her before playfully pushing her back. Before you know it she’s scrambling up the steps and slips back inside, tattered dress swinging wildly with the sway of her hips, revealing just enough of her fishnet-clad thighs to draw Yoongi’s attention. There’s a fraction of a second where he wets his lips as he watches her go, but it’s gone in the blink of an eye. You don’t have time to tease because his dark eyes fall to you.

“Is there anything I can do?” His face is stoic but you can hear the sincerity in his tone.

“Wanna take a walk with me? I’d like to keep away from the big crowd.”

“I know the perfect place,” he says, hopping down from the steps and offering you his hand.

You take it with a smile and rise to your feet, carefully moving down the steps as you dust off your butt. The night air is a bit chilly and you start to work your gloves back up your arms to fight the goosebumps forming there.

That’s when you hear it. You want to misread the sound for a flute, recorder, oboe, or even someone’s radio, but you know those are all incorrect assumptions. It’s an ocarina: an ocarina playing a crude rendition of the opening to ‘Gas Pedal.’

Turning slowly, nothing can prepare you for the sight before you. Jungkook stands on the top step of the porch dressed in a green cap and tunic, tan leggings, and the ugliest dark brown boots you’ve ever seen in your life. He’s got the ocarina nestled between his lips, slowly descending each step with a roll of his hips that accentuates the definition of muscles behind the thin material hugging the shape of his legs.

Your eyes are wide, mouth falling open in surprise. “Jungkook?”

As he jumps down the last step he stops the tune and cups the ocarina in his hands, bowing slightly. “Princess.”

“What are you doing?” you ask, biting back the intimidated voice in your head that’s telling you you’re being picked on.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asks in a low tone, a crooked smile crossing his features as he takes a few tempered steps towards you.

You swallow. How are you supposed to answer that? You take a deep breath, trying to drive off the urge to run as he advances on you. Yoongi takes a few steps back and folds an arm over his torso, cupping his elbow as he brings a knuckle to rest against his mouth with intrigue. He couldn’t hold out for one more day? Should I step in? He brings his weight to the front of his foot, ready to diffuse the situation.

“It looks like you’re trying to fuck with me.” You stand your ground, clasping your gloved fingers and calmly resting them against your dress in true Zelda fashion.

Yoongi’s weight shifts back, retracting the step he had taken. A direct accusation isn’t exactly something he would have expected from you, but he finds himself pleased nonetheless. He certainly chose a difficult target this time.

Jungkook gets close enough that you can see the tick of his jaw and the part of his lips as he drags his eyes across your form, settling on the cleavage created by your corset. “Some of those words were right.” He pauses, leaning to whisper against the shell of your ear. “Can you guess which ones, Princess?”

Heat consumes your face as his posture straightens. He doesn’t budge past the space he’s already claimed as his, but he doesn’t move forward again to invade yours. He watches, basking in the full on show your face puts on for his own entertainment. First comes the confusion, next realization, and then shame.

It’s hard to tell if he’s coming onto you or picking on you. You swallow, throat growing drier by the second. “You knew I was coming as Zelda. Weren’t you coming as something else?”

He throws his head back enough to feign exasperation while keeping his eyes trained on you. “Come on. You don’t like my costume?”

Instead of giving you time to answer, he brings the ocarina back to his lips and blows an obnoxious amount of air through the hollow space inside, producing a piercing rendition of ‘Talk Dirty to Me.’

Your shoulders raise as you inhale, suppressing the irritation bubbling within your belly. You wince, turning your head as a particularly shrill note escapes the instrument. Yoongi’s expression sours as he plugs both ears with his fingers.

Jungkook immediately stops playing and offers a sheepish grin. “Oops. I learned that one for you. Maybe I need more practice. Do you want to help me?” He briefly pauses to wet his lips, presenting the ocarina to you. “I can show you how to blow.”

You grind your teeth as your jaw ticks back and forth a few times before answering, “No thanks.”

Yoongi silently tents his fingers over his forehead and tries to massage the secondhand embarrassment from his skull. This is a trainwreck waiting to explode and at this point there’s no looking away.

Jungkook raises his eyebrows at you as he stuffs the ocarina into a small brown pouch hanging from the flimsy belt at his waist. “Ah. Sorry, Princess. I don’t mean to insult you. You’ve probably already mastered the art. Hah. Maybe you could show me a thing or two?”

Unable to form a proper response, your lips purse as the wheels in your head spin. Say something clever. Think of a comeback. Something. Come on. But here you stand, mind blanking for even the simplest of clapbacks. You’re having trouble coming to terms with the fact that your innocent little crush on the once “sweet” Kookie has come crumbling down with his facade, leaving your chest aching with the humiliation of your naivety.

He looks you over, admiring the artistry in the gown you’ve lovingly crafted. For a moment he’s lost in the embroidery stitched into the sash swaying in the breeze of a chilly October night. “I love your…” he trails off, eyes darting across your shape to capture every last detail of your attire.

He pays special mind to the gems adorned at your hips, and the heavy-looking chain belt which links the sash to your dress. He marvels over the color and velvet texture chosen for the purple corset at your torso. The sheer attention to detail and craftsmanship in your costume stuns him into silence for half a second.

His eyes reach the perky mounds of flesh peeking over the top of the corset. Miraculously his voice resurfaces. “...costume.”

The way his dark eyes linger on your chest isn’t lost on you. Your cheeks burn in the cool air, despite the goosebumps littering your arms. You cross your arms over your chest, higher than you normally would to combat his lurid gaze. The green hat atop his head folds over itself as he cocks to one side. Dark, hungry eyes snap to yours, voicelessly pouting at your blockade. For a split second a guilty excitement pulses through you, but you’ll be damned if you’re the cause of an obviously already inflated ego.

“You never said what you think of mine,” he prods. His eyebrows wiggle up and down as he slowly runs his hands along his torso, as if feeling himself up is going to sway your opinion.

You tell yourself not to fall for it, that he’s playing you for a fool right now. Still, your jaw is tight as your eyes helplessly follow the flow of his fingers down his body. His pinky purposefully catches on the flimsy pleather strap acting as the belt at his waist. An impish grin spreads across his face as he notes the way your chest stutters out the breath you’d unknowingly held. Satisfied, his hands continue their languid journey down his body. Your eyes are glued to the way he traces the contours of his thighs.

Finally his fingers dig into the meat of his those muscles and you feel the need to look away before answering. “I hate it.”

He sighs. “Hate is a strong word. Are you sure that’s how you really feel? Why don’t you look at me when you say that?”

Strengthening your resolve, you force your eyes back to his smug face. Stupid doesn’t even begin to cover how you’re feeling at this point. Biting back tears, you swallow hard and do your best to remain composed. Here he stands, a crooked smile amplifying the air of arrogance surrounding him. He’s playing you. He’s been playing you this whole time hasn’t he?

“I don’t even know who you really are, do I?” your voice cracks, only adding to your humiliation.

“I’m the bad guy. Duh.” With that he cackles as he pulls the ocarina from his pouch, proceeding to play the melody from ‘Bad Guy.’

You spin on your heels and storm past Yoongi, the blood rushing through your ears in a distraught rage, drowning out the bitter sound of the notes. A pang of guilt strikes the half-assed vampire as he stares at his friend. “One more day. You couldn’t make one more day?”

Jungkook shrugs, making his way back up the stairs. “If you see Hobi, tell him I’ll have his money tomorrow.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Dragging your hands across your face, you keep your gaze cast towards the ground.

How fucking idiotic, how self-absorbed have you been to assume that he’s been nice because he likes you and not because he was playing some game with you? He's probably just been waiting for an opportunity like this and you fell right into his trap. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

A hand clamps down on your shoulder and you spin, ready to deck the person you assume to be Jungkook. Yoongi's eyebrows raise as you stand poised to punch. He ducks to the side just in time. As you realize your mistake, it's too late. The momentum brings you forward.

His arms come up around you in a soft embrace, one that you're quick to return. "It's just me," he mumbles, kneading his thumb against your back. "...Sorry."

You bury your face into his shoulder, allowing the tiara to slip from your head and hit the soft ground with a dull thud. Why is he apologizing? He didn't do anything wrong. You want to tell him that, but any sound you make might bring about a slew of tears you've been holding back. Instead you just squeeze your arms around him even tighter.

He awkwardly pats your back a few times, not quite knowing what to do with the hug that's lasting longer than anticipated. Sensing his discomfort, you pull away and adjust your wig as you offer an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry."

A figure approaches, bending down to pick up the forgotten adornment. Out of the corner of your eye you see him rub the dirt off the tiara. Jin carefully places it on your head. "A princess should have a crown."

You look him over, noting the giant overalls, red newsboy cap and hideous fake mustache. You can't help but laugh as he forces a hard blink and puckers his lips, alternating lifting sides of his mouth so the mustache comically tweaks itself in a seesaw motion. "I like your costume," you manage between giggles.

He grins back, donning an over-the-top Italian accent. "I a-like-a yours too! A beautiful costume for a beautiful a-woman."

"Please stop," Yoongi groans.

Jin ignores him, fiddling with the corner of his mustache. "I don't-a know where my brother went. I think he's a-scared of the haunted mansion."

You roll your eyes at the joke. That's right. Jungkook was supposed to be Luigi. "He's busy playing a dick for the night."

A look of realization washes over him and he nods, puffing out air through overly inflated cheeks. "Hmm. You know what might-a make you feel better? Helping me scare-a the pants off of people!"

He folds his elbow and holds it out for you, tempting you to lace yours around it. Channeling your bruised ego and hurt feelings into scaring people for fun? That might just work. You feed your elbow through the crook in his. "Zelda and Mario working together."

Jin laughs. "The dream-a team!" He makes a motion to skip towards the outer entrance to the basement that he's dressed up with spiderwebs and a large, hand-made sign that says "MARIO'S GHOST HOUSE." Beside the entrance is a giant blown-up decoration of King Boo, its pink tongue flapping in the breeze.

As you're tugged in the direction of his creation, he stops abruptly. "Oh, we haven't had that many people though. So we have to make the few that come through count!"

Yoongi's eyes light up. "Hey. I’ve got an idea. I’ll get you a the best customer. But you have to really scare him. I promise it will make your night."

Puzzled, you furrow your brows and tilt your head. “Okay…?”

Jin grins like a maniac as Yoongi makes his way towards the front of the house. “Come on. I’ll show you the best spots to hide.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

About twenty minutes have passed since Yoongi left in search of his promised customer. Only a few people have wandered in. You have to admit it’s therapeutic to watch people scream and jump when you bang on the false walls within the maze Jin has somehow constructed in this basement. Watching people run up the final stairs to safety leaves you with a feeling of satisfaction, always giving Jin a prideful high-five before returning to the beginning to await more guests.

“Ah! My-a new-a guests!” you hear Jin enthusiastically greet the latest people to stop at the entrance. “Are you a-ready to have fun?”

There’s some hushed whispering that you can’t quite make out from your hiding place within the set.

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Yoongi chides loudly. “Seokjin made this. Do you really think it’s that scary?”

“P-Pussy?” Hoseok stares wide-eyed at his friend and scoffs. “Don’t be rude. I just know Seokjin. It will be worse than whatever I think”

Is that Hobi? You were kind of hoping Yoongi would get Jungkook to walk through. Knowing what you do now though, you have no doubt that Jungkook would be unphased by something like this. All you can hear in your head is the echo of his obnoxious laughter and a pang of hurt slices through your heart. God, you’re so stupid.

Yoongi points to the Boo’s tongue flapping in the wind. “It will be like that, probably. It’s silly to be so afraid.”

Hoseok bounces from foot to foot in uncertainty. Even a police uniform can’t steel his spine or guarantee safety. “Why should I do this to myself?”

Yoongi sighs. “I’ll help you look at new places and… help you move. I’ll even be your roommate if the rent is too high.”

Hoseok is beaming. How long has he been asking for help searching? Jin looks from one man to the other, hiding the subtle smile beneath his mustache. He knew Hoseok wouldn’t go in so easily, that something had to be offered up, but he really didn’t expect Yoongi to go so far.

Hoseok points at Jin. “You’re my witness. I go through this and he’s my roommate.”

“If the rent is too high only,” Yoongi tries to reason, but it’s too late. Hoseok has heard what he wants to hear. He grabs his friend and marches into the depths of the basement.

Immediately you bang the walls on their journey down, feeling Jin rush past you to set up for the next scare. Hobi screams. “Never mind! Never mind!”

Yoongi scoffs, dragging his friend forward. “Come on, officer.”

You listen for their footsteps as you circle the walls behind the maze. Hobi’s frantic yelling breaks through the room, slipping into loud curses. You pull your glove up and wait, peeking through the hole you’re hoping he’ll get close enough to. Even shrouded in shadows, Yoongi’s form peeks out from around the corner.

“Don’t think about the dark,” Yoongi says, slowly shuffling towards the wall with Hoseok crouched behind him, using him as a shield from any more scares. “Think about how you bet Jungkook he couldn’t stop himself from trying to get in Y/N’s pants, not even for one month.”

You freeze. Yoongi knows you can hear him, right? He has to know.

“Think about how well he was doing. You would have been cleaning his house tomorrow. Maid Hobi, bound by servitude.”

“I know…” Hoseok groans. “It would have been awful. He’s so messy! I wouldn’t even be getting paid! What was I thinking?”

“But instead, he bet you a month’s rent that he could,” Yoongi continues loudly. “He blew it tonight for the chance to dress up as Link and tease Zelda. He only had one more day.”

“He’s a dumbass,” Hobi comments with a nod, turning to look at the ceiling and making sure nothing is going to drop down on him.

You swallow, taking in the revelation Yoongi has just bestowed upon you. All this time you had spent thinking Jungkook was a sweet gentleman was actually due to Hoseok making a bet with him? You would rather have known Jungkook was a dick straight up because now the innocent, harmless crush you have on him feels so dirty and foul that you wish you could swipe it from existence.

It’s Jungkook’s fault. He lied. He pretended. You know this. But still you can’t help but partially blame Hobi for the bitter taste in your mouth. As Yoongi passes, you reach out, letting your fingers swipe down Hobi’s forearm and retract through the hole in the wall as he lets out a high-pitched scream.

“Hoseok, get off.” Yoongi tries to push away the man climbing onto his back.

“Something grabbed me! Something grabbed me!” Hoseok wraps his legs around Yoongi’s waist and huddles close to his neck pointing. “Over there! It grabbed me from over there!”

“Let’s keep moving, then.”

“No! No more! I’m standing right here until the sun comes up.”

“How is it standing if your feet aren’t touching the ground? I won’t carry you all night,” Yoongi says, adjusting his stance to compensate for the weight on his back.

“You will, too,” he pouts.

Jin helps you position a furry spider decoration above them, slowly dangling it lower until it finally hits Hoseok’s shoulder. The wail that escapes this grown ass man almost makes you feel bad. Almost. He swats the creature into darkness as he spurs Yoongi on by digging his heels into his belly. “Get me out of here! Please!”

Jin’s shoulders move up and down with the sound of his laughter as he slaps your hand in victory. Scaring Hobi made you feel a little better at least.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The party has died down quite a bit and at this point Jimin has been passing you far too many drinks as he and Namjoon regale you with tales from college. Namjoon is clearly feeling toasty, laughing like a dork at every memory Jimin brings up. Apparently they were roommates and Jimin has a liberal arts degree from four years of being undecided.

Your head lolls around to rest on Namjoon’s shoulder, your backs pressed against the bottom of the couch as Jimin sits cross-legged in sweats and a t-shirt on the floor before you, his costume laying discarded beside him. He’s spinning his latest story of how Namjoon had accidentally thrown up on some girl he really liked. Yoongi silently lays on the couch behind you, smirking with his eyes closed. You can’t tell if he’s sleeping or just relaxing as you struggle to stand, using Namjoon’s shoulder as leverage to prop yourself up.

“Bathroom?” you ask distractedly, searching the room like a door will appear if you look hard enough.

Jimin smiles pointing at the doorway across the room. “Go out that door, take a left down the hall. It’ll be on your right.”

Your head dips a bit as you try to take in the directions. Namjoon looks up at you as you stumble forward, clearly off-balance. “Do you need some help, geeksquad?”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, hating the nickname he’s given you from work. “I’ll be right back. Don’t drink my drink.” You narrow your eyes at Jimin and he blinks at you in surprise, like you’ve accused him of such a heinous, unthinkable crime.

Rounding the corner, you pass a grinning Taehyung being led upstairs by a cute girl in a red beret, black and white striped shirt, and miniskirt with suspenders. Art hoe? Mime? It’s hard to tell what her costume might be. While his skin is covered in a beautiful mess of colors, your tri-force symbol still stands untouched at the center of his chest. You smile as you watch him climb the steps, clearly distracted. But as his back is revealed, your eyes widen at the sight of a mural of painted dicks. Well. At least he can’t see them.

You walk down the hall for what feels like an eternity, passing a few closed doors on either side. Maybe you should try one? Knocking on the one closest to you once, the door swings in and you lose your balance, not expecting it to open.

“What took you so long? I almost came without you.” The voice is pouty and low, somewhat familiar. He gasps when he realizes you’re not the person he’s been waiting for.

You stumble forward, falling to your knees and catching the bed frame before your face smacks into the wood. As graceful as you can manage, you pull yourself up. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to! I didn’t realize it was open and I was just looking for the---” The will to speak leaves you as soon as you see him.

A very sweaty, very naked Jungkook crosses his arms and he leans back expectantly, smushing the pillows behind him into the headboard. Your eyes take in the pleased expression on his face, quickly scanning the muscles of his folded arms, his chiseled abs, his bulging legs. The pointy green hat he had been wearing earlier tents across his sculpted hips and pelvis, thankfully obscuring any shape hidden beneath it.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again tonight,” he says, licking his lips as he watches your form tremble, practically falling apart in front of him before adding, “...Princess.”

A devilish grin overtakes him at the sight of you spinning around a little too fast, staggering towards the door and holding onto the frame for dear life. “I hoped I wouldn’t see you again tonight.”

“I can’t say it isn’t a nice surprise. You don’t have to leave,” he coaxes. “Do you wanna see my Master Sword?”

“Grow up!” You make sure to slam the door shut behind you. You hate him so fucking much it hurts.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“Jennie, how could I be so wrong about him?” you sigh, dropping your forehead against the kitchen table. It’s been three weeks since you’ve talked to him, but it’s still the only thing you can think about.

Jennie takes a sip from her beer. “Sweetie, you’re not good at reading liars. Maybe you should look at some dating apps. You could get good read quick.”

“But I don’t wanna,” you whine into the coated wood. “Why can’t people just be nice?”

“Because. People suck. Come on, Y/N. Jungkook ain’t worth the headache. Drink with me. I’ll show you how Tinder works. It’s not so bad.”

When you don’t say anything, she tugs your chair across the floor, dragging your form close to hers and setting her phone down on the table. You peek out at the screen as you raise your head and rest it on a lazy elbow.

“Swipe right on the hotties. Swipe left on the fuckboys and losers. Jungkook? He’s a swipe left. But look at all these good ones on here. These are all swipe righties.”

You nod as she goes through a few profiles and begin downloading the app on your phone. Maybe she’s onto something.

#jungkook smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you

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oppabimbab · 5 years ago

Text

your attention | im jaebum

genre : smut

starring : jaebum x reader

synopsis : jaebum has been ignoring you when he is playing with his video games; the thing is you’re horny for his touch; you find it’s unfair so you try to get his attention, in a sexy way

words count : 2544 words

side note : a quick and horny one.

✻ Fanfics Archive ✻

“Let’s fucking go!!! Goddamn it!!” Jaebeom’s high pitch voice fills the living room along with the sounds from television. He grunts in annoyance—running a hand through his hair, looking frustrated just like few moments ago.

You, who are leaning against the kitchen counter, heave a sigh while sipping a mineral water as you bring your gaze to look at your frustrated boyfriend. It’s been 3 hours since he came to your place where he didn’t go anywhere but playing with the video games he just bought few days ago. Well, it’s not a new thing. You know Jaebeom loves playing games—especially with his favourite PS4 but it’s weekend. He has been really busy with his schedule during weekdays and when it leaves you with only 2 days of weekend, just to see him yelling and cursing when his character died for the entire day.

How annoying. You scoff at the sight of him yelling and looking frustrated on the sofa, completely ignoring you at the side.

You don’t mind if you’re not this horny. The thing is he turns you on and this is where you find it’s a little bit annoying for not getting his attention. Putting the glass aside on the counter, slowly, you count the steps to come closer to him before you scoot closer to his side.

The Fifa game looks boring and irritating to you when you see his gaze didn’t move from the screen to even look at you. You pout at him. This is unfair.

“Shit man!! You had one job!! Come on!!,” he curses again, thumping his feet on the floor to ease the tension when the game becomes intense but you know nothing about what is going on. You don’t fucking care about the games. He is too immersed without looking at you beside him.

Staring at him from head to toe, you can feel something itchy in your core. Jaebeom has been always looking goddamn ethereal but today, why the fuck he looks delicious than ever.

Short sleeves black t-shirt—compliments his toned and muscular arms. Messy and fluffy hair—exposing such a boyish look that you always love. Skin tight jeans—that thick and toned thigh and calves, oh so fucking sexy. You check him out without noticing the familiar liquid is pooling in your panty. Every part of your skin wants him. Not later, but now.

As Jaebeom keeps hissing and grunting at his sucks online teammate, you comes closer to his side and bring your lips to trail a soft kisses on his sexy neck. Slow pace, you plant those kisses from under his earlobe to his shoulder—causing him to flinch. Just like that, Jaebeom pulls away from you a bit to look at your needy face.

“Baby? What are you doing?” he asks with furrowed eyebrow—there is a mixture of confused at your gesture and mad at his endless failing games. Both of you exchange eye contacts for a while before you open your mouth.

“I want you,” you squeak softly before trailing your fingers on his torso to his buffy chest. Fuck, your boyfriend looks extremely good when he is ignoring you. Jaebeom shakes his head and pull your hands away, slowly.

“Not today please? I need to finish this game first. This is important. Baby, later? Okay?” he cocks his eyebrow, trying to convince you not to be a needy fuck when he is clearly busy with his so-called important thing. You whine, of course you’re not going to give in, just like that? How the hell you’re going to hold this desire for another 3 hours?

“I’m horny,” not giving any fuck to what he said just now, you plant another wet kisses on his neck again while trailing your fingers on his chest—feeling his toned abs. Your favourite place.

For some reason, he chuckles at your words, making his whole body vibrates which is turning you on even more. He has such a genuine and boyish laughter and when he does that, you want nothing but to be fucked by him. It’s scary you want him this much.

“If you’re this horny, I can’t say no, can I?” he giggles as he pulls you away, again—making you whine in frustration at his gesture. The next second, you see his boyish smile, checking you up from head to toe. Only tank top and hot pants. He nods in amusement.

“Ride my thigh, baby,” he whispers. God knows how thrilling it sounds like in your ears.

“Do everything you want,” he adds and the next second, you stand up in front him—quickly taking off the tank top that has been wrapping your body before you unclasp the bra, making your boobs bouncing to his sight. He grins, biting his lower lips as he checks you up from head to toe. Not even once you break the eye contact from his eyes as he looks at you like you’re some kind of masterpiece.

Taking off your panty, leaving your bare body, you impatiently climb on him and sit on one of his thigh while he still has his jeans on. The thick fabric makes a soft moan leaves your mouth. Jaebeom bites his lower lip while looking up at you.

“Just how sensitive are you now?” he teases before he coils his arms around your waist and using the game console behind your back. You don’t respond to him as your pussy is becoming more sensitive.

“Move,” he commands with his eyes still on the screen and his hands keep using the game console—as if you’re not there, riding his motherfucking thick thigh.

Slowly, you move your hips back and forth, just to feel the rough fabric to be rubbing on your wet pussy—increasing the pleasure and desire. The friction feels heavenly good. A trail of moans leave your mouth as you keep grinding on his firm thigh with your hands holding on to both of his shoulders.

“Jaebeom....” you whine, rubbing the pussy on his jeans more aggresively.

“What is it baby?” he hums , still looking at the screen before he pulls your hips closer to him—making you yelp and moan like a erotic kitten.

“So good,” you moan—lifting your chin to the air as you quickened the pace. You don’t know his thigh would feel this good on your pussy but you’re sure you’re ruining his jeans with your wetness. It’s soaking.

He chuckles before looking back your flushed face—enjoying the view so much as he never takes his eyes off from your moaning face. Eye contact. It turns you on even more.

“Fuck, you’re soaking wet. How are you this wet,” he stares at his soaked jeans while your pussy still grinding on him—throbbing clit to his sight. Again, you don’t respond as you busy moaning his name to the air while gripping on his shoulders to get the support. Jaebeom grit his teeth, staring at how red and sensitive your pussy has become. He slaps your jiggly ass—you shudder.

“Jaebeom...!” the next second, he grabs your hips and forces you to keep grinding back and forth with 2 times speed—making your body bounce on his lap. He takes one of your nipples to his mouth before curling it with the tip of his tongue—making you scream even louder. The entire space is filled with moans and whimper from you along with the sound of friction between your swollen pussy and his tight jeans.

After few more moves, you cum on his jeans before you collapse on his shoulder while consuming air to fill your empty lungs. Jaebeom chuckles while rubbing your ass slowly.

“Was it good?” he whispers to your ears before he resume the game again—leaving you laying on his chest after such orgasm.

“I’ll make you feel good,” you pull away and kneeling beside him with your face only few inches away from his throbbing dick. Jaebeom looks at you, confused.

Without letting him to respond or think, you unbuckle the belt around his waist without much efforts , just to pull the jeans to his knees before you bring your fingers around the strap of his underwear and let his throbbing member comes to your sight.

Jaebeom squeak out of shock at your impatient and quick gesture.

“W-wait. We can-“

“Shut up, Jaebeom. You said I can do anything I want ,” you look up at him with a pout as you wrap your hand around his huge member. A soft whimper comes out from his mouth. You smile.

When he finally shut up, you stroke his length gently from the tip to his balls. A soft smile appears on your lips when you witness the white precum on the head of his dick before you lower your head to lick it. His body jerks at the touch but you push him back to the sofa.

Jaebeom has always been that huge and big, it almost making your petite hand disappear from wrapping his dick. It’s red and throbbing—like it wants to get the cum out. You chuckle before you quickened the pace—stroking every part of the dick. The slippery sounds start to take over the space along with his soft whimper. You know your boyfriend barely makes sound when you’re pleasing him but today, you can’t let that happen. He needs to scream and moan—just like he always did to you.

In a blink of eyes, you lower your head to take his length into your mouth—making it disappear from the sight. A trails of curse left his mouth when your hot mouth is wrapping that veiny dick. Just like how you grind on his thigh, you move your head up and down while rubbing his huge dick with your hand. Jaebeom curse while keeping his eyes on the screen.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. You chuckle. That’s not enough. With other hand, you spread thigh wider while rubbing it slowly. He moans.

As you bop your head on his dick, you hum to give vibration to his system and just like you imagined, he moans, loudly. Bopping your head, you lick the vein on his length from up to down, not leaving any part before you curl your tongue on the tip of his head, tasting the pre cum.

“Oh fuck. There, there,” Jaebeom moans as he brings his hand to your hair to make you go deeper but you immediately push his hand away.

“You do your work. I do my work,” you mumbles, taking his ball into your mouth—making the man goes crazy with every touch.

“Nasty,” he teases, spreading his legs wider to make you hover the dick even better. As you keep sucking the throbbing member, you can feel the juice from your core is starting to pool again as your skin starts to tingle for his touch. You arch your body, making your ass up to air while your head on his lap.

The next minute, you moan when the cold air touches your inner thigh—reminding you how empty your pussy is and he needs to fill you again. You crave his dick so much. While stroking and licking Jaebeom, you moan out loud—louder than the sound of chaotic games on the screen.

“Jaebeom....fuck me,” you beg, sucking the tip of head while stroking the balls, making him jerk even more. He grunts as you can feel his muscles starts to stiff and tense up. Before you can taste his cum in your mouth, he pulls you away from him as he stands up. Leaving you breathless.

“Bend down. Show me your pussy,” he commands through gritted teeth while striking his sexy beast eyes to you. The butterflies in your stomach start to build like crazy, making you turn your back at him before you bend down—to make him see the dripping liquid along your inner thigh. With shaky hands, you hold on the sofa.

He comes closer and brings his hands to palm your pussy. You scream out loud at the warm touch.

“So, you decide to make me this horny when I’m playing the games?” he grunts—rubbing his fingers back and forth. Your body arch. Fucking heavenly good.

“What did you say just now? Repeat it, I didn’t hear you well enough,”

“Fuck me,” you whine in the weakest voice. He hums, not satisfied.

“Louder,” he slaps your ass.

“Fuck me, I want you!” your voice reaches few octaves and thanks god, it makes him satisfied.

“As you wish, baby,”

Just right after he says the words, he slams his dick into your pussy—making your body to jerk forcefully. You shut your eyes while opening your mouth wide to moan his name over and over again. When you finally adjust to his size, he starts to move back and forth—filling his huge dick inside your tight pussy.

Fucking good.

“Why is my baby this horny? Do you want me this much?” he grunts in every thrust he pump into you and just like that, your body arch, your mouth let out the endless moans. Just for him. You immediately hold on to the sofa tightly as your legs becomes wobbly. He feels so fucking good inside you.

“Harder, Jaebeom,” you beg. Jaebeom chuckles before he grips on both of your hips and keeps thrusting and wrecking every part of you. The slapping sound starts to replace the entire space.

"Damn it, you feel so good around me," he gropes your ass.

Moans and moans. Thrust and thrust. Your boobs bounce along with the thrust. The next second, you peek over your shoulder and meet his eyes. His gaze is fucking sexy and looking at him while he is fucking you, is one of the beautiful thing that happen in your life. He stares at you while gritting his lower lip as he pumping your pussy to let his tip to touch your walls.

“Scream my name. Cum for me,” he groans.

“Ah! Jaebeom, Jaebeom!” you cry to the air, gropping your breast to increase the pleasure before the knot in your stomach starts to build.

He pumps harder to stimulate you and the next second, you cum around him, a few seconds earlier before he fills his cum inside your abused pussy. His body twitch as he pumps the cum inside you before it drips along your inner thigh.

“Ah! yes fuckkk,” he groans.

Jaebeom immediately pulls out from you and brings your body to his chest as he sits on the sofa—back to his earlier position. Both of you pant and breathing hard, to catch the missing air while you sit on his lap and lay your head on his chest.

You bring your gaze to the screen and he lost the game, again. You crack a soft smile at the sight. Your boyfriend must be mad at you for making him hard and horny—just like you are, which is the reason why he lost the game. You kiss his chest and look up at him. Jaebeom looks back at you—like a puppy while securing your hips inside his arms.

“Baby,” you call him and he cocks his eyebrows, pulling you closer to him.

“Do you want me to help you win?” you grin at him before taking the game console from his side.

#jaebum #jaebeom #jaebeom smut #jaebum smut #got7 smut #park jinyoung #jinyoung #jackson wang #mark tuan #yugyeom #youngjae #bambam #kpop smut #kpop imagines #got7 imagines #im jaebeom #smut #2020

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omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 6 years ago

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Idle Hands Are the Devil’s Tools

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar X Reader

Summary: You are a bartender at LUX, growing to be one of Lucifer’s closest friends in the human realm, attraction swelling in the both of you for the other. On one closing night at the club, Lucifer decides to bet a little wager with you when Detective Decker needs your help for a case and you want to decline. Exotic dancing, lingerie, seducing a crime lord, jealousy, lust, and chaos, the devil’s specialties, soon follow.

A/N: okay so full disclosure I have not seen much, only like eight episodes into the first season but already I’m in love with a general idea of the so far storyline and characters so I hope you guys enjoy this little story because a lot of you requested it and I’m excited *maniacal, evil laughter* feedback is loved and appreciated as always! i wrote this filth in like one night so have fun with this and if yall want a continued part of just smut then fluff lemme knowwww anyway PLEASE ENJOY

Warnings: sexiness, dirty talk, alcohol, infuriating sexual tension, stripper reader, FLUFF, language, near death experience, JEALOUSY hehe, dom! Lucifer, FILTH I SWEAR, implied smut

You clean up the bar counter, wet rag covered in cleaning spray, eyes lifting and making direct contact with your boss, Lucifer. His head tilts to the side, curiously and expectantly, like he wants you to say something, as if telepathic conversation between you two should be second nature, always knowing what he’s thinking.

“You’re really not going to do it?” he asks, alluringly soft voice with that British lilt in it that so many find attractive, maybe that’s why he chose it. Sex appeal.

“Do what?” you ask, evading his gaze the second it turns serious, turning around and wiping down random bottles, aligning them on the shelves.

“You know what, darling,” he sighs, a huff a laughter. “The case Detective wants your help on.”

You stiffen at the mention of Decker’s request, when she came just a few hours before, “She doesn’t need my help... anyone can do it.”

“Well, she chose you, no one else in a one hundred mile radius has an impressive skill set in both martial arts and stripping...” his lips curl when saying the last word, you scold him, narrowing your eyes. “I also wouldn’t mind seeing the latter. I’ve only ever seen you in your uniform,” he scrunches his nose, excitable.

You look down at the sensible attire, a black tank top and dark washed jeans with holes where the knees are. You look back up at him and chew on your bottom lip, pondering that forever reoccurring question of if he’s just being his normal flirty self or if he truly sees you in another light. You only ever come up with the former as the answer. He’s all dark, black suits, raven, slicked back hair, and stormy eyes, all cut from jagged stone, onyx and obsidian. He’s untouchable.

“Stripping put me through college when my parents refused to,” you explain, point blank and to the point. “I haven’t done it since, I quit when I made enough for tuition. It paid the bills and kept the lights on, but the men there... I won’t ever forget the way their eyes made me feel...” you gulp audibly when you remember those disgusting glances, how objectifying they were.

Of course it wasn’t every patron there, some were respectful. Some even got you a good lay, and others sometimes paid an entire month’s rent, but those late night visitors, they were the ones that led you to quit.

“I don’t want to ever feel like that again,” you look at Lucifer and he knows you’re telling the truth, your glassy eyes and wavering stance.

“Y/n...” he says sincerely, reaching across the bar to thread his fingers through yours. You freeze.

“I can assure you at my club, I only let in the best people, they’re hand selected. If anyone makes you uncomfortable, they will be punished and out of the club as soon as you say the word. I wouldn’t be pushing this so much, dear, if it wasn’t so vital to the investigation and to get this crime lord and stop him from killing anyone else, you have to distract him long enough for the cops to get inside. We need you.” He needs you.

“Luci...” you whine slightly, breathing deeply when you catch his stare. “I-”

“Can you do this?” he asks, tongue dragging across the pillow of his bottom lip, twitching in the corners. “For me, beautiful?”

This is one of those moments that has you pondering the stance of your relationship. Because you can’t say no to those eyes. And he knows it.

“You’re terrible,” you sigh, giving up, squeezing his hand before letting go, slipping from his grasp. “But yes, fine, I’ll do it. Because you basically guilt tripped me into doing so.”

“You are only human,” he teases, wearing a cheeky smile when he swipes the liquor from your fingers and pours two glasses. “Don’t worry, love, you’re going to have a devil of a time...”

You take a long sip of your drink, pointing at him accusingly, “Stop it with the puns or I’m out.”

“I’ll also put a little wager on the endeavor, pet, and make it interesting,” he sits up straighter, the nickname he uses for you sending an ice cold chill down your spine. “If you make at least a grand tomorrow night, I’ll tell you what I desire.”

“I have always wondered...” you take another sip of the smooth drink, the burnt amber taste gliding down your throat with ease. “Can you really pin it down to just one thing?”

“For you I will,” he looks at you, genuine. “And if you don’t make that much, I get to ask you. I never have gotten the chance.”

“What’s stopping you from doing it until then?”

He smirks, “Nothing, I suppose. This is much more fun, though, wouldn’t you say, kitten?”

“Okay, then. Deal,” you extend your hand to him and his eyes are alight, scarlet fervor.

He grins wickedly, shaking your hand, “This’ll be such fun.”

~~~~

Maze looks you over, feline eyes slit with her bottom lip caught between her teeth in deep concentration. You two are in the back of the club, music and bass pounding in the dance room while she studies your attire, your new work uniform while aiding in the case. You’re covered head to toe in a gaping fishnet body suit, a black strapless bra laying over atop your breasts and a pair of black lace panties to match with a pair of ebony, Louboutin stiletto heels, a weapon in themselves. She places a com in your ear so you can covertly communicate with Lucifer and Decker.

You feel out of your element, but also incredibly empowered, now that it goes by your rules, what you say goes. Maze put your hair in curls, minimal makeup with a dark lip, and she’s smiling, licking her lips deliciously.

“If Lucifer hadn’t already called dibs on you, mortal, I’d have you right here myself...” she traces a finger down your torso, stopping at your panty line, crimson lips cut from ruby.

“Dibs?” you ask, confused but also intrigued. “When did he do that?”

“If you really don’t know...” she looks at you. “Then you’re an idiot.”

“Bitch,” you scoff.

She smiles, leading you to where you’ll be dancing for the night, “Sure, but at least I’m not an idiot.” That’s clueless to my boss’s affections.

You huff in annoyance before stopping at the individual pole where you will be performing for the night, the club already packed with crowds of dancing, grinding bodies, sweat and musk. Lucifer catches your eyes from across the room, he’s stunned for a moment, like he’s stuck in a moment of shock and he can’t move. You’re breathtaking.

He smiles, lifting a single eyebrow in question, calculating your next move. The crime lord Decker described to you sits on the couch adjacent to the poles and designated dancing areas, his greedy eyes already laying over you and you know you have him hooked.

You look back at Lucifer and hook your leg on the steel pole, spinning around, positioned upside down when you flash the devil a wink.

He’s taken aback by the gesture, eyes wide as saucers, chest rising and falling at the unknown twist in his gut. You slide back up, walking around the wooden square allotted for your dancing, letting the music seep into your bones, move your hips and sway your curvy body to the beat of the song, one you requested. You turn away from Lucifer and lock eyes with the crime lord, you wiggle your fingers in the smallest of waves, flirtatious when your lips move upward, all planned and perfected. The man is caught under your spell and caught completely off guard, perfect for a distraction.

Your hand graces the pole once again when you twirl around, hand running through your hair when you dance to the rhythm of the playlist, eyes closed and letting your body do the talking that your lips can’t. Already both men and women have been throwing wads of dollar bills, in the hundreds now.

Lucifer’s eyes fall over you more than once, but unlike everyone else’s, they hold adoration, admiration, he can’t look away.

“You’re doing this on purpose...” he growls into his ear com, nursing a hard scotch on ice, eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Whatever do you mean, Luci...” you swing around once more, landing in the splits when you face him, laying down fully, face in your hands. His jaw drops.

He’s never wanted someone this badly. It’s like your touching him without actually doing so, your eyes doing all the work for you.

“You look ravishing.”

You belly laugh, throwing your head back when you look at him, smug, “In the way that I look intriguing or that you want to ravish me yourself?”

He sips his drink, fire licking his irises, flickering in flames, “Both.”

“Guys, focus,” Decker scolds in the mic, interrupting the staring contest, having you continue back to dancing, looking back at the crime lord.

He waves you over, a stack of cash beside him that he pats, wanting a personal lap dance. Your skin crawls at the way his eyes trail over you, lingering in places he shouldn’t, but you know it’s for the case, so you can save people. You smile at him, forced, walking down the platform and over to him.

“He want’s a lap dance, Decker,” you whisper, the loud music enough to mask your talking. “What do I do?”

“That’s not apart of the plan, Detective,” Lucifer bites, voice dripping with venom, eyes aflame.

Decker mulls it over, “It’s... actually perfect. Do it, y/n, you’re not in any danger and-”

“She could get hurt, we didn’t plan for this,” Lucifer says, another foreign feeling in his chest where his heart should be, clutching the absence and his jaw clenches. “W-what if she’s uncomfortable?”

“She can do it, because if she does, we have more than enough time for the cops to swarm in and take this guy down, ten minutes tops.”

“I can do it, Luci,” you promise. “He’s only human, right?” you say, voice unsteady when you see the gun in his pocket, burly bodyguards on either side of him.

Lucifer’s chest clenches and he’s forced to watch you straddle the man’s lap, smiling openly at the murderer, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. This hurts more than the injuries, when the Detective shot him, this doesn’t even compare. It resonates through his whole being, he’s rooted to the ground and the fear in your eyes when you throw a look at him kills him further.

“The cops are close,” Decker tells you. “Just a little bit longer and we’ve got him.”

The man beneath you suddenly frowns, “What’s that voice? Do you have a com in? Are you a cop?” He shoots up, pushing you off, you barely catch yourself when you stand.

“Shit!” Decker curses, footsteps immediately following when she runs down the main staircase, gun aimed at the criminal’s head, a sure shot from there. “Alright, LAPD, hands up, asshole!”

The club goes into a frenzy, crowds running out the doors when they hear her yell, giving the perpetrators an easy exit. And in the heat of the moment, the crime boss grabs you, arm around your neck and restricting your airway with a gun pressed against your temple, the cool steel on your skull. Your eyes sting with tears, a damned lump forming in your throat you can’t bear swallow, and Lucifer sees you across the club.

His eyes light up, and he realizes he was wrong earlier, this pain was worse, so much worse. It takes him over and makes him vulnerable beyond repair when he runs over to you but the criminal is two steps ahead, moving with you to the exit, pressing the gun into you further.

“One more step and I’ll shoot!” he tightens his grip around your neck and an empty tear slips past, but you dare not make a noise. “Don’t test me!” He clicks off the safety and you flinch.

You mouth a soft, It’s okay, to Lucifer, watching his face fall, true sorrow in his features.

“You picked the wrong woman to hold at gunpoint,” his chest heaves, but he’s calm and collected, eerie and still like a lake at midnight, the only reflection of light being the moon. “Let her go.”

“Step back or I’ll kill her-”

Lucifer flashes his real face, scarlet and devilish, monstrous and the man drops his gun in a fit of fear and confusion, eyes wide. You knock your head back and headbutt his nose, enough so to knock him out, dropping to the ground unconscious.

You breathe heavy and the tears finally fall. A single, broken sob escapes, you cross over to him and wrap your arms around his neck, crying into his chest, staining his signature purple button down shirt. His arms, once stiff at his sides, encircle around your waist and tug you to him, no space between you both except the fabric of his clothes and lace of your ensemble. And there’s no words needed. His hands rest on the small of your back, and for once they have no intention of ever wandering.

~~~~

You step into the shower, closing the blue tinted, glass door behind you. The hot water slides down your skin, close to scalding, cleaning off the day you’ve had, especially that man’s hands, gripping your waist. Hands on your hips. You close your eyes and tilt your head up, water rushing down your face, waves lapping at skin, kissing your cheeks with warmth.

You step out of the shower after washing your hair, wrapping a towel around yourself when you walk out of the bathroom, water droplets running down your hair and face, coating the tips of your lashes and your pink lips. Lucifer, leaning over the bar and nursing a drink, turns when he hears your wet footsteps advance into the main, sitting room, dark eyes trailing over your figure.

He’s been acting off ever since the incident at LUX, driving you over to his apartment, letting you use his shower, laying out a fresh outfit for you, and offering you a guest bed to sleep in for the night. He thinks it’s his fault, all this, being held at gunpoint and almost being shot, this entire mess in the first place. Guilt is aching in his chest and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

And he’s barely talking.

“Lucifer?” you ask, meek and quiet, afraid you’ve already overstepped too many boundaries just being here. You know it’s a bad idea.

“Yes, darling?” he answers just as softly, still not quite looking at you, just staring straight ahead at his cabinet of drinks, ice clinking in his crystal glass of scotch.

“I’m sorry.”

He turns his head in your direction, close to snapping, “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I got sloppy and it almost cost us the investigation... he overheard my com-”

“You’re apologizing... because Detective spoke too loudly and he heard? You’re apologizing for almost getting killed?” he turns fully to face you, setting his scotch calmly on the bar counter.

“Don’t blame her.”

“I don’t. I blame myself for roping you in and getting you involved...” he groans, frustrated, walking slowly towards you.

You frown deeply, confused at his sudden change of heart, regret in his features, the wrinkles in his brow when he furrows it, “Even so we still got him in custody, there’s no harm done, Luci-”

“There could have been!” he yells, eyes rimmed with scarlet. “You could have died, y/n! I could have lost you and it would have been my fault...” his voice wavers, and you gulp, realizing what’s going on.

He was scared.

“Lucifer...” you whispering, cooing softly, a melodic lullaby put into his name.

You step on the tips of your toes to cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb over the stubble on his cheek. He’s trapped.

He’s never experienced tenderness like this before, such love and care in one’s touch, all for him. He doesn’t deserve it, but he’s softening, melting into your palm and he’s a puddle at your feet, eyes locked with yours and he’s thrown away the key. He presses his lips to the inside of your palm, sending electricity through your veins, sparks on your fingertips that shock his skin.

“Stop.”

He pinches his brow, confused, “What?”

“Stop,” you tell him, lips kicking up in a small smile. “Stop blaming yourself, I was sloppy, I admit it, Decker was loud... but I agreed to it, that’s on me. I knew the consequences and I knew what would happen if things went sideways, but he’s behind bars, and I’m not dead. I’d call this a win.”

His jaw tightens, “He put his hands on you.”

“He did...” you agree. “But I’m a big girl,” you laugh, both hands on his face now and he lets you, leaning into your touch like a moth to a light, succumbing to its own undoing. “I handled it.” And something comes over him.

“I should handle him...” he pushes you against the wall, you inhale sharply when you hit the cool material, gripping the front of your towel.

His eyes fall over your face, “For touching what’s mine.”

You open your mouth to speak, say something, anything, but you don’t object, you can’t. It happens so fast, both your wrists in one of his hands pinned above your head, pressing you further into the wall.

And he kisses you.

Your eyes flutter close and he groans into your mouth, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, tongue soothing you when it licks your own. Like coal igniting fire, aiding its own demise. His other hand runs down your neck, ripping off the towel that covers you until you’re bare before him, dripping in more ways than one. He finally lets go of your wrists and you wrap your arms around his neck, his arms looping around your waist and it’s clashing teeth, tongue, and lips, a frenzy of hands and it’s not enough. Not enough. He drinks you in with a hunger that can never be sated, your fingers carding through his ebony hair and tugging, harsh and vindictive. He growls, the devil but still a man, and you make him painfully so.

He picks you up, hands under your thighs when your legs wrap around his torso, soaking his clothes but he doesn’t give a shit, never breaking your kiss when he carries you over to the bed, tossing you on the mattress. He looks you over, hungry and vicious, lips exploring the maps of skin before him, biting and licking all the curves, dips, and sweet spots, finding what makes you tick.

Kissing down your stomach, eyes still holding onto yours, “Tell me, my love... what do you desire?”

“Y-you,” you say, voice shaky and unsteady, gulping down the lump in your throat that makes it hard to breathe.

He smirks, malicious, crawling back up your body and he sucks on your neck, marking your skin with love bites, littered with remnants of him.

“You won the bet, didn’t you, darling?” he kisses the curve of your jaw, licking the lines of your throat, and all oxygen leaves you. “I suppose I have to tell you what I desire, then, don’t I?”

“A deal is a deal,” you smile, equally as excited as you are scared for the answer.

“You,” he scatters his lips across your chest, kissing your breasts. “To ravish you like the goddess you are... to love you wholeheartedly and truly.”

He wraps his lips around your right nipple, swirling his tongue expertly, biting and sucking. His fingers pinch the other, rolling it between his index and thumb, so damn good it’s scary.

You never thought you’d hear him say the L word, and to you, a mortal, no less. You never thought you’d love him too.

“Luci... you’re still wearing clothes,” your fingers fumble for his shirt, tugging it so hard that the buttons pop off, falling off of him. “That’s hardly fair.”

He grins wolfishly when he resurfaces, “Eager, aren’t we, kitten? If you wanted it rough, all you had to do was ask...”

#lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer fox #as requested #requested #fanfiction #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer x reader #smut #lucifer morningstar smut #reader #fic #reader fic

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m0etenchandon · 6 years ago

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First Time (reader x virgin!Joe smut)

Pairing: Female reader x Joe Mazzello Summary: You always sit together in class, but your friendship never extended past the four walls of the lecture hall. So, when Joe finally musters up the courage to ask you to hang out, you take your shot. You have pizza, try to watch a movie, and finally show him what he´s been missing out on Warnings: SMUT (18+ only), virgin!Joe, blowjob, premature ejaculation, fingering, pussy eating, unprotected sex, creampie A/N: This is my 2,000 followers celebration! Thank you guys so so much, I don´t know what I would do without you. I love you all! So to thank you, here is some soft virgin Joe smut Word count: 6K

Gif credit to @mazzelloplots

This is pure filth and you are not allowed to read it if you´re under 18. I will block you if I catch minors interacting with this story.

You met Joe the first proper day of Uni. He had stumbled through the door a few minutes late, spotted the first available seat and made a beeline. Fortunately for you, it was the one next to yours. At first you were annoyed. You had hoped you could get some space, especially since it was first thing in the morning, but when you met his gaze your heart made a little flip. It wasn’t necessarily love at first sight, but he was cute. Very cute. His auburn hair was all messy from him having probably just woken up and there was a hint of some light stubble covering his jaw.

Joe was his name. He didn´t introduce himself so you had to peak at his notepad to find it. Joseph Mazzello.

You didn´t talk the first day, but he gave you a soft smile at the end of the lecture. The next day he asked to borrow a pencil. And after that he asked you for the answer to one of the questions. And then a joke which was actually funny. You could never forget the proud smile on his face when you laughed at it. That and his New York accent.

You always sat together and quickly became good friends. But inside of the classroom only.

“Hey Y/N?”, Joe said when you started packing up your notebook and your laptop. It was a Friday and you were eager to get home. Netflix and the wine in your mini-fridge were calling your name.

“Yeah”, you said, shooting him a smile. A blush crept onto his cheeks. God he was too cute. You were absolutely smitten. It was unfair really.

“I-I wanted to ask you if you uhm- I want to- shit I´m sorry”, he mumbled, eyes panicked.

“Joe! Relax”, you giggled, reaching out to grab his arm. It felt firm under your grasp and you had to properly concentrate on not squeezing to feel his bicep.

“Right. Sorry. Uhm- I was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime?”, Joe asked. His eyes met yours momentarily before shying away and staring at his feet.

“I would love to, Joe”, you said, a stupid smile plastered on your face. You scribbled your dorm number down on a piece of paper and put it in his hand. “Come around mine tonight at 8”

You walked home with a spring in your step. It wasn´t a date, or maybe it was, but at least it was a start. You really liked him. Whether or not he liked you too was a mystery though. He might just be shy around everyone, right? You hadn´t really see him talk to anyone else, but he answered lots of questions in class and often made them funny. It was strange really how he could go from being the class clown to struggle to ask you one simple question.

You decided to not dwell on it further and unlocked the door to your dorm. There was a note on your side of the room from your roomie. She was going home for the weekend. Thank god. Not that you didn´t like her but it was so refreshing to have the room completely to yourself. Also, it meant that you and Joe wouldn’t get interrupted.

Deciding you were going to order pizza for when Joe came over, you just popped a few slices of bread in the toaster and decided that would have to do for now. You picked up your dirty clothes and made the room all pretty. You didn´t want him to see how messy you really were. At least not right away.

There was a knock at the door at exactly 8pm. Ok this was happening. You felt your pulse increase. You looked over your room one final time. The pillows and blankets on your bed looked very inviting next to your open laptop with Netflix on.

“Hi”, you said when you swung the door open. Joe had put on a sweater that made him look so soft. And cute.

“Hey, Y/N”, Joe answered. He gave you a lopsided smile and took a step into your room. You could see him taking it in, making you oddly nervous.

“So, do you want to watch a movie? I have ordered a pizza for us”, you said, plopping down onto the bed. It wasn´t the biggest bed, but it could fit two people if necessary. And it just meant that you had to sit closer which you definitely weren´t complaining about.

“Oh I thought we were going to study”, Joe said. A pink blush rushed up his cheeks as he gestured to his bookbag.

“It´s a Friday night, Joe”, you giggled, waving him over. “Come here you nerd”

Joe gave you a nervous smile and dropped his bag before heading over to you. It really was a bit of a squeeze to fit you both. You could feel warmth radiating from his thigh over to yours and the way his arm felt firm against yours.

“What do you want to watch then?”, he asked, desperately trying to ignore the tension in the air. You always sat together, just never this close.

“What about this one?”, you said, pointing to the thumbnail of a horror movie. You could feel Joe tense up next to you.

“Uhm what about a comedy instead?”

“Oh don´t tell me you´re scared, Joe”, you laughed. “I´ll protect you don´t worry”

Joe sighed and let you start it.

You regretted it after about 30 minutes because you were both scared shitless. Joe was biting down on his nails, trying to avoid looking at the screen but at the same time not wanting you to know how scared he actually was.

When the main character was chased down a hallway by a guy with a chainsaw, you closed the computer. Not exactly the type of mood you wanted to set.

“Let´s not watch that anymore”, you said, throwing it to the side. You turned to Joe just in time to watch him let out a sigh of relief. The look on his face almost making you melt.

“What should we do instead?”, he asked.

Your eyes fell on his lips as he spoke, and you could immediately feel the tension turn into lust. This was your chance. You could just ask him and get it over with. If he didn’t like you back then fuck it, you could probably get over him. But you needed to know.

“We could kiss”, you suggested, your voice barely above a whisper. But Joe caught it though. His eyes went wide as he stared at you, his mouth falling open slightly. Shit.

“I mean it´s just an option, we don´t have to if you don´t want to. I get it if you only see me as a friend”, you mumbled rapidly. Shit you had messed up.

“No no, I-I want to”, Joe said after a while, taking your hands in his. His long fingers wrapped around your palms, his thumb soothing the skin. It felt warm. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy.

You closed your eyes and leant in, drawing in a breath as you felt his warmth when you moved closer. You stopped just before your lips met his and stopped, wanting him to take the final step. He did. Joe closed the distance between you and pressed his lips to yours. They were soft. Slightly chapped. A wave of warmth spread across your entire body, making your heart flutter.

The kiss was interrupted by a knock on the door. Shit. The pizza.

Joe pouted when you pulled back, his lips pink and puffy. You couldn´t resist. You leant in and pressed another peck to his mouth before moving off the bed. He shifted in his seat and ran his fingers through his hair. Trying to take a deep breath to compose himself.

As soon as you opened the door you could smell the delicious pizza. You hadn´t realized just how hungry you were before now.

“Pizza for Y/N”, the delivery girl said, giving you a kind smile.

“Yes, thank you so much”

You fished out the money along with some tip and thanked her again as she handed you the pizza.

“Smells so good”, Joe said as you closed the door. You half- groaned in agreement and made your way over to him. You sat the pizza down between you and sat crossed legged in front of him.

“So you actually intended this to be a study-date?”, you asked, taking a slice into your mouth and moaning at the taste. It was delicious.

“To be completely honest, I just brought them because I didn´t want you to think that I thought it was a date-date”, he said, blushing.

“Aw you´re so cute, Joe”, you giggled, nudging his knee with your own. “I wanted it to be a date-date”

Joe nearly choked on his pizza. His eyes went wide.

“Really?”, he questioned.

“Of course! I like you, Joe. Why did you think I kissed you?”, you gushed. The deep-red blush that painted his cheeks were enough to have you swoon.

“I don´t know, I haven´t really uhm- I haven´t really kissed that many girls”, Joe admitted. He looked away as he spoke, picking up another slice of pizza and eating it in three large bites. Yep. He was definitely from New York.

“I don´t care, Joe”, you said, giving him a grin once he finally met your eyes again, “And for the record, I couldn´t tell”

“Oh. Well that´s good I guess. Thank you”, he said, wiping his hands on his thighs. Joe paused for a second to look up at you. He seemed nervous all of a sudden again. “Do-does that mean we can do it again?”

“Mhm”, you smiled, moving the half-empty pizza box out of the way. You perched yourself on your knees and leant in. Joe met you on the half-way, his lips melting against yours. You could feel your stomach churn with excitement, his slight stubble igniting the tingles in your panties.

Joe had apparently gotten a surge of confidence, because he pushed his tongue into your mouth, his hands grasping your sides and pulling you into his lap. A gasp left your mouth as you felt the bulge under your crotch. You placed your legs on either side of his body and deepened the kiss. Your hands slid around his head to pull at the hair in the nape his neck, causing Joe´s mouth to fall open against yours.

You took the opportunity to trail your lips across his jaw and down to nibble at his ear lobe. Joe´s grasp on your waist tightened.

“Do you like that, Joe?”, you cooed, pulling at it with your teeth. His breath stifled in his throat.

You smirked against his skin, moving your lips down to suck at his pulse-point. You took his fair skin into your mouth, marking him up. A strangled moan escaped his mouth.

You pulled back to eye your masterpiece, a smirk pulling at your lips at the light purple bruise.

Joe looked absolutely fucked out. His eyes were hooded in pleasure and his lips puffy from kissing. A thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. Huh. Already. That was quick. This was going to be fun.

You made a tentative thrust of your hips, dragging your clothed heat over his crotch. Joe´s eyes shot open in surprise, his fingers digging into your sides. He was already rock hard.

“You´re so hard already”, you said, cocking your head. You grinded down again, seeing his breath hitch in his throat. A vein popping out on his forehead.

“Shit I´m so sorry, Y/N”, Joe said. He tried half-heartedly to push you away. “I-I uhm, I can´t. Fuck I can´t control it”

You giggled at his innocence. God he was cute. So innocent.

“There´s nothing to be sorry about, Joe. I´m flattered”, you said, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips.

You slid your hands down his chest to pull at his sweater.

“I need you to stop me if you don´t want to do this. If you´re not comfortable then we won´t do anything”, you warned, tapping your fingers against his skin.

Joe´s eyes went even wider as he desperately shook his head. He grabbed your hands and pushed them further down towards his crotch. A yelp left his mouth as your fingers grazed over his erection when you were grabbing his shirt.

“Fucking hell”, Joe muttered under his breath, leaning forward to let you pull the sweater off his body. His chest was lightly littered with hair, his pecks and stomach soft.

“I love your body, Joe”, you cooed. You leant down to press your lips to his chest, your fingers sliding down his torso to rest against the waistline of his jeans. His cock was straining against the material, his pulse increasing as you were inches away from where he found himself so desperately wanting you.

“Please”, he whined, hips thrusting up to meet your touch.

You giggled and moved your body down his thighs. You reached out to play with the button of his jeans, letting your fingers graze lightly over his bulge.

“Please what, Joe?”, you teased, looking up to meet his desperate eyes.

“Can you please touch me, Y/N? I need it so bad”, he begged.

You hummed in amusement before leaning down. You pressed your lips against the soft curves of his stomach while your fingers popped the button of his jeans. Joe´s tummy was rising and falling rapidly under you, small whimpers leaving his mouth as your fingers grazed his cock while sliding the zipper down. You looked up at him to check if you could keep going before moving your lips down. Placing a kiss on the waist-band of his briefs, his cock twitched in anticipation just below where you were touching him.

There was a small dark stain on the material where the head of his cock laid. He was visibly throbbing, causing your mouth to water.

You hooked your fingers into the waist of his jeans and boxers and tugged at them. His cock was pressed down as you pulled the material down his thighs, before springing up and hitting his stomach with a loud thud. It was heavy and large, a prominent vein running up the underside. The head glistening with pre-cum.

Joe looked down at you with lust in his eyes, his hands gripping the sheets beside his body.

“Your cock is so pretty, Joe”, you cooed, reaching out to run a finger all the way down his shaft. You pressed against the vein, watching as it twitched underneath you. Joe cursed underneath his breath, biting down on his bottom lip.

“I uh- Shit I have to tell you something”, Joe said, grabbing your hand to stop you from touching him again. You cocked your head, giving him a sweet smile. You had a sneaking suspicion what he was going to tell you, but you needed to hear him say it.

“Go ahead”, you said, squeezing his hands.

“This is really embarrassing but I feel like you need to know, this is my first time. Ever. Like, doing anything”, he said, eyes fleeting away from yours. A deep red blush crept onto his cheeks and chest. Hmm. Yep. That´s what you thought.

“It doesn´t matter to me, Joe. As long as you want to keep going, I want to too”, you said. You tapped the back of his hands to force him to look at you.

“God I want to”, Joe moaned, letting go of your hands. He drew in a sharp breath when you placed them on his hips. Just beside his throbbing cock. “I just want you to know that I don´t really know what I´m doing. Everything I know is from porn”

You giggled and leant up to press a kiss to his lips. Mostly to stop his rambling but also because he was really cute and awkward right now. Joe moaned softly into your mouth, his lips following you as you pulled away. His eyes closed. Wanting more. And that was exactly what you were going to give him.

“I´m going to take such good care of you, Joe. Just sit back and relax”, you whispered, moving down his body again.

You caught his eyes as you leant down. You blew hot air onto the head of his cock, humming in amusement as it jumped. Joe´s knuckles were already going white from how hard he was fisting the sheets.

“Ready?”, you asked, ghosting your lips over his tip.

“Please”, Joe whimpered, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

You smirked before licking a bold stripe from the base of Joe´s cock all the way to the tip. It jumped up to meet your mouth as your tongue swirled the string under the head. A steady stream of salty pre-cum leaked from the slit, and Joe yelled out in pleasure when you licked it all up.

You wrapped your hand around the base before pursing your lips and slowly taking the head into your mouth. It felt warn and soft, the salty taste covering your lips.

“Fuck that feels- oh my god I can´t believe this is happening”, Joe rambled, thrusting his hips to meet your touch.

You squeezed his shaft harder and hummed around the tip, letting your tongue press against the underside of the head. Your eyes were locked on his as you took him further into your mouth, sucking just a little bit harder until- oh. A salty liquid shot out of the slit, coating your mouth and causing you to lift an eyebrow. Ok. That was fast.

“Shit I´m so sorry I couldn´t- oh my god ah it feels so good”, Joe moaned. His back arched off the wall, his hips moving up against his mouth as he emptied himself. His cock throbbed in your hand as you guided him through his high, milking out every last drop of cum.

You pulled off him and sat down on his thighs again, opening your mouth to show him his own load. Joe´s eyes were droopy as he watched you swallow, cursing under his breath when you opened it again. All gone. The salty liquid slid down your throat.

“Hmm, I´d appreciate it if you warned he next time”, you said, a playful smirk pulling at your lips. You reached up to wipe the sweat off his forehead before pressing your lips to it. You moved off his lap and sat down next to Joe, pulling out the pizza and reaching for a slice. Cum wasn´t something you wanted to taste for much longer.

“I´m really sorry, Y/N. I didn´t mean to do that it just felt too good and I tried to hold back but I couldn´t and fuck I´m sorry I didn´t want to ruin this”, Joe rambled, pulling a pillow into his lap to cover his softening cock.

You giggled and offered Joe the last slice, grinning when he looked up at you for a split second before grabbing it. He groaned slightly at the delicious taste. He needed the energy.

“It´s fine, Joe. It happens. I just need you to tell me when you´re close so I can stop or slow down”, you said.

“I´m sorry”, Joe repeated. He threw his head back against the wall in embarrassment. His Adam´s apple bobbed when he swallowed the pizza.

“We´ll work on it. There´s no need to apologize”, you smiled, nudging his knee with yours. “But first, I´m going to enjoy this pizza”

“So we can try that again?”, Joe asked. He bit off another piece of the pizza, his eyes trained on where you did the same. They darkened as you licked your lips.

“I was thinking we could try something else, but yeah. If you want to of course��

A grin spread over his face, his lips curling around the food inside his mouth.

“I want to. Very much so. I´m not sure I can go again right away though”, Joe said. He swallowed the last piece of his pizza.

“I know. That´s why we´re having a pizza break. And, I also need you to get me ready first. That cock of yours won´t fit inside if you don´t”, you said, smirking when you saw Joe´s eyes grow wide. His gaze fell on your boobs before trailing down to your covered heat.

“Uhm do you want me to? Can I touch you? There?”, he stuttered, eyes meeting yours again. You chuckled before wiping your mouth. Joe drew in a harsh breath when you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him towards you, removing his pillow in the process.

You laid down on the bed and pulled him with you, wrapping your legs around his naked waist. His teeth clenched against yours as he settled himself between your legs, both of you giggling into the others mouth. Joe tasted like pizza. Delicious.

“Ca-can I?”, Joe muttered against your lips, whining as his sensitive cock grazed against your inner thigh. He slid one of his hands down your side to your waist, squeezing slightly before moving down to the hem of your shirt. His fingers felt warm on your skin.

“Of course, you can”, you said. You lifted your back off the mattress to allow Joe to slide the material off your body. He drew in a harsh breath when he saw your boobs in that lacy bra you had put on – just in case.

“Do you like it, Joe?”, you teased, smirking at the way he couldn´t pry his eyes away from your chest. “Or-“, you trailed your hand down your own neck, over your boobs before sliding back to the clasp of your bra. “Would you rather me take it off?”

“Off, definitely off”, Joe rambled. His eyes met yours for a brief second before they fell on your boobs again as you unhooked it. You shuddered as air hit your stiff nipples.

You grabbed Joe´s hand and slid it up your body, your fingers urging him to squeeze. He did. Ever so slightly, as if he was afraid he would hurt you. You giggled and moved his hand, pinching his fingers over your nipple. You arched into his touch, a low moan falling from your lips. This gave Joe some confidence apparently, because he looked up to gauge your expression before pulling at the nub a little. Another moan.

“Your hands are so big Joe”, you whined, squirming under his touch, “Feels so good”

“Can I kiss them?”, Joe asked, subconsciously leaning down. As if there was a magnet between his face and your boobs.

You nodded, burying your fingers in his auburn hair, urging him closer. His lips met the soft curve of your breast, his breath hot on your sensitive skin. Joe looked up at you as he moved his lips, pressing a kiss to the area just beside your nipple. His hand cupping the other breast. You could feel his cock harden against your leg, his hips moving against yours on reflex.

Joe hesitated for a moment before wrapping his lips around your nipple. He flicked his warm tongue over the nub before sucking it into his mouth. You moaned and pulled at his hair, feeling tingles go straight to your heat. Absolutely drenching your panties.

“I-I´m going to need you to move on, Joe. Feels way too good”, you whined, pushing him away from your chest. You were throbbing with need.

“Really?”, he asked, a confident smirk playing on his lips. Well, at least until he looked down your torso to your still clothed bottom half. “You´re uhm- You´re going to have to tell me what to do”

“Don´t worry, I´ll guide you through it”, you said with a smile, pulling him up for a kiss before grabbing a pillow and propping it under your torso so you could see down on your lap. “Start by taking my jeans off”

Joe nodded, scooching down and reaching up to unbutton your jeans. He pulled the zipper down while holding his breath, eyes going wide as he saw the matching lace panties you had put on.

You lifted your hips to let him hook his fingers into the waistband. Joe´s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as you told him to take your panties off to, inch by inch of your bare pussy exposed to him as he pulled them down his legs.

“Fucking hell”, Joe whined, desperately trying not to palm his cock as you were naked in front of him. You spread your legs, watching him draw in a harsh breath.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”, you asked. Joe nodded frantically before plopping down on his stomach between your legs. Oh. His head was really close. You could feel his hot breath.

“Definitely”

“Ok, uhm do you want to use your mouth or just your fingers?”, you asked, not really knowing how much you were going to teach him the first time.

“Both”, Joe said. He was determined, you had to give him that. Ok then.

“Eager, are we?”, you giggled, reaching down to run your thumb over his lip. He pressed a kiss to it, shooting you a wink. “Push your middle finger into me, yeah, right there”

Joe´s finger felt amazing sliding against your walls, your breathing already increasing.

“Oh god”, you whined, throwing your head back. “Another one. Curl them upwards”

He nodded before sliding his ring finger in as well. His digits were thick, strong. God you swear you could have cum right then and there. A rush of pleasure shot up your body as he curled them, somehow hitting your g-spot at the first try. You drew in a sharp breath and reached down to stop his hand, keeping his hand in place until you had calmed down just a little bit. Your chest rising and falling.

“What´s wrong?”, Joe asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Nothing. I just need a moment”, you said, breathing heavily. God how was he this good without even having any experience?

Joe grinned, obviously proud of himself.

“Uhm, ok if you want to, you can start kissing the inside of my thighs. Just keep your fingers still for a little while”

“Ok. I can do that”, Joe said. He leant down to press his lips to the apex of your thighs. Oh. That was nice. A rush of electricity shot up your body. Goosebumps forming on your skin. Joe´s stubble rubbing in the most delicious way possible.

“Yeah that feels very good”, you moaned, trying not to move your hips too much “Just keep kissing. Do you know where the clit is?”

“Here?”, Joe asked, pressing a kiss to the hood of your clit. A gasp left your mouth. Yep. That was it. You nodded, earning a cocky grin from Joe. He pressed his lips against it, adding a little more pressure.

“Fucking hell. I uhm- just keep kissing my clit, take turns licking too. I don´t know, my brain doesn´t seem to be working right now. I´ll tell you if it feels weird”, you rambled on, feeling the vibrations from Joe´s chuckle through your body. Your neck almost cramping up with how hard you were straining to look.

“Oh ok. Like this?”, Joe asked, flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub. Your walls clamped down on his fingers, already feeling the knot in your stomach start to tighten.

Joe took your loud moan as a yes and kept going. He alternated between flicking his tongue over your clit in fast moves, pressing small kisses to it and the surrounding areas in between.

“You taste really good. I haven´t tasted anything like it”, Joe mumbled, his words almost muffled by your pussy. “And I can´t actually believe I´m doing-“

“Less talking more licking, Joe”, you said, growing inpatient. You were so close.

“Right. Sorry”, he giggled, leaning back down. “Do you want me to move my fingers again?”

“God yes. Just rub them against the front”, you instructed, gasping when Joe did just that. He watched in awe as you threw your head back in pleasure. Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, the tight knot almost becoming unbearable as Joe wrapped his lips around your clit again. He sucked it into his mouth while working your g-spot with his fingers.

Short puffs of air were leaving your lungs as you inched closer and closer to your high. Joe´s surprisingly skillful fingers urging you forward. His hips grinding into the mattress, the view of him all fucked out and with his lips wrapped around your clit almost too much to bear.

“I-I´m going to, holy fuck- I´m going to cum”, you whined, tugging at his hair even harder. Your fingernails digging into his scalp.

Joe nodded against your heat, sucking your clit harder, rubbing your g-spot faster. There was no way you were going to be able to hold back. Your orgasm washed over you like tidal wave, almost knocking all the air out of your lungs. It felt like a rubber band snapped in your pussy, your walls clenching around his digits, clit twitching in Joe´s mouth.

He watched intently as you came down, fingers guiding your through your high.

“Oh my god you- shit it´s too much”, you half yelled, pulling his face away from your heat. Joe apologized, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh before retracting his fingers. He brought them to his lips and licked them clean, earning a groan from the bottom of your throat.

“That was so hot, Y/N”, Joe mumbled, looking down at how wet you were. How your clit was still twitching with aftershocks. His cock begging for attention.

“You´re good at that, Joe. Are you sure you haven´t done it before?”, you giggled, pulling him up to your face. His lips tasted faintly of your juices, his hard cock digging into your thigh.

“Positive”

“Are you sure you want to do this? We can stop here if it´s getting too much”, you said, running your fingers along his jaw.

“I really want to, Y/N. I´m so fucking hard again”, he half-wined.

“Hmm, I can feel that. Do you have any condoms?”

“Yeah hold on”, Joe said, scrambling out of the bed. He walked over to where his jeans were discarded and reached for his wallet. There was a deep flush covering his chest and face, his cock standing at full attention. Red and dripping with pre-cum.

“Shit”, he mumbled, reading the label of the condom he fished out. “It´s out of date”

Joe went bright red, desperately wishing he had just said he had none.

“God you´re so cute, Joe”, you giggled, making grabby hands at him, “I already know you´re a virgin, I´m not going to judge you. Besides, I´m clean so we can go without if you want to? If not, you´re going to have to run to the store”

“Really? Holy shit I want that”, Joe groaned, his cock twitching in anticipation. He made his way over to you, positioning himself between your legs again.

“Just slide in whenever you´re ready, and then let me adjust for a few seconds, ok?”, you asked, running your fingers up and down his arms to try and calm his nerves. Joe nodded, grabbing his cock and running it through your folds. You shuddered at the sensation.

He looked down as he pushed in, watching your pussy swallow him inch by inch. Your juices slicking him up and allowing him to slide in easily. He let out a loud groan as he bottomed you out, his head falling into your neck.

You tried to remain composed, knowing that you were the one who was supposed to be experienced, but it just felt so good. He filled you up just right, your walls clenching around him as you adjusted. Stretching you in a way that sent goosebumps over your entire skin, tingling with pleasure. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails into his fair skin.

“C-Can I move? I don´t know how much longer I can hold it”, Joe moaned, his hip stuttering slightly. The mere feeling of your walls contracting around him enough to push him right up to the edge.

“Y-yes”, you said, feeling Joe pull back the second the words left your mouth. He moaned into your neck as he pushed back inn, feeling your warm pussy engulfing him. The wetness creating an obnoxious sound, filling the room.

Joe´s back was sweaty and hot under your fingertips. He sped up slightly, his breathing increasing.

“A-are you close?”, you asked, wrapping your legs around his waist. It allowed him to go even deeper, Joe´s hips stuttering.

He nodded into your neck, not trusting his words. He made the mistake of looking down to see your wet pussy wrapped around his cock, causing a desperate yelp to leave his mouth.

“Slow down, Joe”, you said, wanting this to last longer even though you knew it wouldn´t. You wish you could spend the entire evening like this. Joe´s cock buried deep inside, nudging you towards your high with every thrust. Pleasure filling your entire body.

“I-I”, he tried, whimpering, “I can´t hold it. I´m gonna cum”

You clenched around him, feeling his cock twitch inside.

“Holy shit that doesn´t help, Y/N”, Joe moaned, closing his eyes as he tried to hold back.

Joe was moaning into your neck, his hips moving against yours at a frantic pace. His balls felt heavy, your walls practically forcing his orgasm out of him.

“It´s ok, Joe. You can cum. Cum for me”, you urged, pushing him further inside with the heels of your feet.

Joe stilled as you pushed him over the edge, spurt after spurt of hot cum shooting out to coat your walls. He bit down on your shoulder, trying to conceal the high-pitched whine that wanted to leave his throat.

You stroked his back through his high, feeling his body go limp after he was done. He slumped down on your chest. His softening cock resting against your inner thigh, his cum sticky against your skin. Not to mention the puddle that was currently sliding out of your pussy.

“You´re not a virgin anymore”, you giggled, running your fingers through his hair. He giggled against his skin before pressing his lips to your neck.

“Thank you. Should I be thanking you? I feel like I´m high right now. That was so fucking good I can´t believe how amazing it was. You were so tight and so wet and so oh god I just loved it”, Joe mumbled. He pulled back and rested his chin on your chest, looking up at you. His hair matted to his forehead. His cheeks red.

“There´s no need to thank me. I wanted to Joe. Remember, I was the one who invited you over”

“Right.. did you cum too?”, he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

You smiled, reaching down to move his hair out of his face.

“No, but it doesn´t matter. I wasn´t expecting too”, you said, completely honest.

“Was it that bad?”, Joe questioned, but the tone in his voice gave away the fact that he didn´t really want to know the answer.

“No”, you giggled, “I don´t have to cum for it to feel good. You did good. I´m not complaining”

“Oh ok. I can eat you out again if you want to?”, he suggested.

“Relax, Joe. We have the entire weekend. We can go again later”, you giggled. You leant down to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Let´s get cleaned up and watch another movie and if we still feel like it, we can go again”, you said with a smile.

“I´d like that”

“Good. Maybe this time you will warn me before shooting your cum down my throat”, you teased, pushing him off you and heading for the bathroom to get cleaned up.

“Hey! You told me it was fine”, he protested. You turned around to give him a wink before turning the corner. Joe did the next time. And the time after that.

Masterlist

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metalchick19-blog · 6 years ago

Text

The Bowers Gang: How Patrick Would Feel About/Interact with an Extremely Shy Reader (Anonymous Request - Imagine)

* Request: The reader is super shy and only talks when talked to. She never says more than five words and hates being confronted and talking in public. I would love to see how Patrick would feel. Thank you so so much!! ♥️

* Any and all credit for this idea goes to the requestor.

For the past few weeks, you had been working on a school project with Patrick Hockstetter - you shared biology together, and, although you’d never spoken to him before, you’d always known him as the guy who was way too amped up on dissection days

In fact, you’d literally seen him stuff a fetal pig into his backpack once, but you hadn’t dared to say anything to your teacher about it

Because, really, who wants to mess with a guy who steals fetal pigs under any circumstance?

Regardless though (and regardless of the countless other things you’d heard about the guy), you two had been paired together to give a presentation on the plant of your choosing - what function it served in the ecosystem, and what internal mechanisms it used to stay alive

True to his normal character, Patrick had wanted to do your report on the venus fly trap since day one

And, even though you had wanted to do it on literally anything else, you went along with it, because you were never one to argue

… Which Patrick would come to notice over the course of your time together

From the moment he met you, Patrick knew you were shy (and loved it), but he didn’t realize just how shy until you officially started working together

Every time he would focus on the project long enough to suggest an idea (which wasn’t often, seeing as he usually seemed to be focused on invading your personal space and giving you nightmare fuel), you gave him nothing in the way of resistance - just a nod of your head

Every time he would ask you a question, you would simply answer yes or no - anything to avoid coming out with a full sentence

And, most noticeably, every time he’d meet your eyes and say something vulgar (“Cat got your tongue, princess? Maybe you could let me borrow it for a while once he’s done with it.” *Shudder-inducing Hockstetter smirk*), you’d do nothing but collapse into yourself, instantly a blushing mess

Essentially, Patrick came to realize that you were so shy, you’d let basically anything happen to you

You went along with everything he said, wouldn’t respond to sarcasm, insults, or come-ons (regardless of how strongly he came at you with them), and, in a lot of ways, seemed almost incapable of speaking

… Which drove him insane with lust from the second he registered it

Patrick had never met a girl so deeply ingrained in submission, and decided he wanted you from that point on

But, what he also realized…

… was that he wasn’t entirely sure what your voice sounded like

In all the time you two had been working together (which was approximately two weeks, at that point), you’d never said more than a few words to him at once - and Patrick decided that it was time to force you out of that comfort zone

Partly for the sake of hearing you speak, but mostly for the sake of watching you panic

… And he decided this the day before your presentation was due

You walked into biology the next day, note-cards in hand, ready to present your half of the presentation - you were nervous, as always, but felt a little better than usual because you knew you’d have a partner… even if it was Patrick friggin’ Hockstetter

You sat down at your desk, looked around the room, and noticed one thing right away - Patrick wasn’t there

Which was fine, because he usually snuck in just before the final bell, but you had been hoping to go over the presentation together before class started (which never would’ve happened anyway, but it was optimistic of you nonetheless)

You read over your note-cards, eyeing the clock as the minutes ticked down

Class would be starting in 4 minutes - totally fine. Patrick would come

Class would be starting in 3 minutes - cool, cool. Patrick would make it

Class would be starting in 2 minutes - It was seriously fine. It was literally great. Patrick was on his way

Class would be starting in 1 minute - OH MY GOD, NO. PLEASE NO. SERIOUSLY, OKAY, THIS CAN’T HAPPEN. DEATH IS IMMINENT, AND THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO TO STOP IT.

Finally (just as your freak-out was reaching its peak), Patrick ducked into the room, his arrival punctuated, as always, by the last bell

You’d truly never been so happy to see those piercing green eyes, and that long-legged stride coming towards you

… But, suddenly, the stride changed directions

Patrick’s eyes remained on yours, a spark of something like sick, amused intent flashing through them; the edges of his lips curled into a small smirk, and you finally registered that he was making his way over to your teacher

Standing in front of Mr. Anderson, Patrick did what he always did - reverted to his “normal boy” act. He smiled politely, if not a little bit tiredly, and placed a note on Mr. Anderson’s desk

… At which point a knot began to form in your stomach

Mr. Anderson read the note briefly, nodded in understanding, and called you over to the table - not at all noticing Patrick’s seriously un-subtle giddiness

Sighing, you walked over...

... and heard the worst news of your life:

“Hey, y/n. So, unfortunately Patrick here has step throat, so he won’t be able to help you present today - but he did bring his note-cards with him, so you can just read his half of the presentation from those. Okay?”

Right away, you could tell it was one of those questions that wasn’t a question; Mr. Anderson stared at you kindly, but expectantly.

… So, you mustered a smile from the deepest depths of your soul, nodded, and took Patrick’s note-cards.

Just as you turned to go back to your desk though, Patrick fixed you with one of the fakest (but, frighteningly enough, also one of the most believable) apologetic faces you’d ever seen - he knitted his eyebrows together in what, to you, was obviously feigned remorse, and looked down as if to say he was sorry for abandoning you

The look earned a “good boy” smile from Mr. Anderson, but you’d never wanted to choke someone so much in your life

You decided you’d hate that face forever - smirk, grin, or fake lip-pout. It was the terrible, awful face of a boy that was forcing you into public speaking. And that was fucking unforgivable

For the next few minutes, as other people presented, you died inside over and over again

All you could think about was having to present information you hadn’t prepared for, and your hands trembled even as you sat

Finally, it was time to be publicly executed - Mr. Anderson called “the venus fly trap group,” and you slid out of your seat, moving unsteadily to the front of the room

Venus fucking fly trap. You hadn’t even wanted to do the report on the damn thing, and that seemed all the more insulting now

You stood tall (or as tall as you could, given you were in a state of stage 3 panic), and faced the class, deciding to start out as strong as you could

… But one face made your voice catch in your throat

Seated at the very back of the class, right in the middle of the room, so he could stare at you dead-on, was Patrick - grinning like a maniac, and already on the verge of laughter

Though his face overall was a picture of joy, Patrick’s eyes were filled with nothing but cruelty; it reminded you of a butcher, smiling heinously (and meaning that smile with all his heart) just before chopping the head off a piece of meat

Needless to say, it threw you, and you started reading your note-cards already in the middle of a stutter

From there on, things went nowhere but downhill

So downhill that it felt like you were falling from Mt. Everest

After struggling to read through your own note-cards adequately (and failing miserably), you finally got to Patrick’s

… Which had nothing on them (except the top one, which had a picture of a badly drawn smiley face) and required you to improvise the rest

Which you did - visibly trembling, and with your voice shaking the entire time

By the end of the presentation, you were a sweaty mess

You hadn’t even looked up more than twice, because every time you did, you met Patrick’s shit-eating smirk

Despite everything though, you managed to get a good grade (though you suspected Mr. Anderson only gave it to you out of pity)

At the end of class, as everyone made their way out of the room, you felt a tap on your shoulder just as Mr. Anderson walked into the hallway

...You almost didn’t want to turn around.

But you did, and you saw just what you expected to see: Patrick - his lips so curled as to look “Grinchy,” with a look of bemused approval on his face

“I knew you had it in ya’, sweetheart.”

You knew it.

You fucking knew it.

Strep-throat?

Yeah.

Bullshit.

You opened your mouth to protest, but no sound came out

Grinning, his eyes fiery with excitement, Patrick leaned in close to you

His hand came up to move a strand of hair from your cheek, and he brought his leering face ever closer to yours. Your eyes shot down to the ground as he craned over you; his cold breath cascaded down your forehead and chin

“Don’t be mad, princess - I just had to know what that sweet little voice sounded like.”

There was no air between you. All there was, was Patrick’s voice - nasally, like a snarky teenager’s… but predatory, like an animal’s

“And, you gotta’ know… you look so fucking delicious when you shake.”

The both of you stood for a moment - you drowning in the silence that filled the room, and Patrick basking in it. His nearness alone unsettled you, he knew, and you could swear you felt him lick his stretched, leathery lips before tucking your hair behind your ear

With that, the tension was gone. Patrick was suddenly across the room from you, just about to make his way out the door. You stood frozen in place by your desk, stunned by the recent turn of events. Did Patrick Hockstetter… like you? Was that what all this had been about?

Patrick turned to you a final time, still backing towards the door. You could tell he was picturing you naked, his mouth open, but his lips still turned up in a smirk. His eyes traced down your body excitedly, seeming to search every nook and cranny before settling once more on your face.

He smiled a final smile; it was like he’d gathered all the mischief in the world into that one expression

“See you tomorrow, sweetie.” He winked. He licked his lips again

It was much more pronounced this time though, for your viewing pleasure

“Y’know, you can try to be quiet all you want - one day you’re gonna scream my name until your fuckin’ throat’s raw.”

Finally, Patrick disappeared into the throng of kids outside the classroom door

You stood alone, collecting your thoughts.

Patrick Hockstetter had embarrassed you.

Patrick Hockstetter had fucking scared you.

… But… Patrick Hockstetter... liked you.

And, for some reason, you weren’t so sure you hated that

#henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #belch huggins #victor criss #The Bowers Gang #the bowers gang headcanons #it

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readbeneaththelines · 5 years ago

Text

Giving Him Control Pt. 10

A/N: The contract between a Dom and a Sub can be vital to prevent any misunderstandings or complications in the relationship. It can be negotiable, and can include whatever is agreed upon between both parties.

Characters: Ravi x Reader

Warnings: maybe fluff?, angst

Word Count: 2486

Please remember, this is NSFW. There is the Dom/Sub aspect of the characters, so if that is a trigger, please proceed at your own discretion.

cr to gif owner

“Hello Miss Y/N, Welcome to Shangpree Spa. Please follow me.” a young woman greeted you with a bright smile.

You followed her to a private dressing room. She handed you an ornate silk robe. Telling you to get undressed and take a warm shower, she left with a deep bow. You undressed, placing your clothes on the provided hangers. The shower was wonderful. Multiple shower heads rotated and fanned up and down. You were immersed in a perfect aqua massage. There were sea salt scrubs and a new handled loofah with your name on it. Applying the salts to your skin, you scrubbed yourself til you were red, the hot water spraying you clean. After drying off and wrapping your hair in a provided towel, you slipped into the robe.

As soon as you tied the belt, another young lady came to retrieve you. You walked through a beautifully decorated hall, various artwork from throughout the centuries hanging on the walls. You were led into a dimly lit room, candles and flowers set among the small waterfall. The soothing sound of falling water mixed with the aroma of orchids, hibiscus, and cherry blossoms calmed you. The young woman guided you to lie down on a thickly padded table. It had been spritzed with lavender essential oils, relaxing you. As you laid on the table, the masseuse rubbed you down with oils, massaging every muscle. You fell asleep as each fiber of your being released their tension. You were awakened by a soft voice calling your name.

“Miss Y/N, your time is finished. We need to get you to the next session.”

You opened heavy lids, momentarily forgetting where you were. Sitting up, she placed the robe on you, even tying the belt. Helping you to your feet, she led you back down another hallway, to a seperate room. There was a large tub in the middle of the room, surrounded by stone towers. Removing your robe, she guided you into the steaming tub. Flower petals swirled around you, scenting the water lightly. After soaking for a while, another lady came it and greeted you. Setting herself on the edge of the tub, she took a scoop of sea salt scrub, and began exfoliating your skin. When she completed her treatment, you skin glowed brightly. Next was your waxing session. When he said well manicured, you didn’t think he meant everywhere. Sure you kept yourself groomed, but you had never had a Brazilian wax treatment. Everywhere, except your head it seemed, that had hair was waxed. Off to get your hair washed and styled. By the time you had done every session imaginable, your ride was there to pick you up. He held the door, assisting you in. The ride was silent, only music drifting in through the back speakers. You were relaxed and refreshed by the time you arrived at Ravi’s place. Looking at your watch, you figured you had been gone for over four hours. You still hadn’t heard from him, letting you know when he would be coming home. You busied yourself fixing a quick bite to eat, even though you had a feast at the spa. Just as you sat down to eat, your phone buzzed. Picking it up, you read the message from Ravi.

Ravi/Wonsik

Heading home. Be there in about 30 minutes.

Snifter of Yamazaki on ice, waiting by the bed.

Y/N

Where may I find the Yamazaki?

Oh, and the snifters?

Ravi/Wonsik

In my study

Behind the double doors

See you soon

Y/N

See you soon

Drive safe

You quickly ate your snack, then headed to get his drink ready. Just as you set it on the nightstand, you heard the front door open. Looking down at your clothes, you realized you were still in the outfit from earlier. Stripping down, you headed to the closet, searching for the attire he had chosen for tonight. Taking the silver dress from its hanger, you heard him enter the room. Quickly stepping into the dress, you stepped out from behind the door.

“Hello, how was your day?” you greeted him with a smile.

“It was good, and how-” his voice trailed off as you looked at you.

The dress was hanging loosely from your shoulders, unzipped in the back. Your skin was still aglow, your hair set in a high bun. Your marks had all been hidden from the makeup they applied. You were stunning in his eyes, a deliciously inviting temptation. He licked his lips, bringing the lower one between his teeth. You felt your chest flush as he kept staring at you.

“Do you mind, please?” you asked as you turned your back to him.

My day was wonderful by the way. Thank you for everything, I have never been treated to such wondrous treatments.”

He ran the zipper up your back, his fingers brushing lightly across your spine. Goosebumps rose on your arms, your body shivering. He ran his hands down your arms, lingering at your wrists.

“You look delectable, Y/N. Too bad we have a dinner to attend, or else I would just keep your holed up in here tonight”. he kissed your neck, taking care not to leave any marks.

“Yes, too bad indeed. Maybe if I am good for you at dinner, we could have dessert here?” you cooed in his ear.

He gave a quick squeeze to your ass, growling under his breath. He had not been teased in a long time, the lapse making him forget how much he like it. Resisting any temptations, he headed for the bathroom to freshen up. You stood in the doorway, watching him shave. He was a specimen to behold, the inked skin scattered across his upper body was a tantalizing contrast to his soft and smooth caramel colored skin. His silver-blonde hair a stark contrast to the dark flesh at the nape of his neck. Muscles that are stretched tight as he leans over the counter. His waist tapered seamlessly into his hips. Long lean legs seemed to stretch for miles up to those same strong hips.

Strong legs that supported your body, strong hips that thrust him deep inside of you, arms that could hold you up. You could hear him calling out your name, a triton’s song in your ears.

“Y/N? Have you heard a word I’ve said?” he snapped his fingers.

You blinked rapidly, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He tilted his head, looking at you with concern. You half smiled in response, your heartbeat trying to return to normal.

“What? Oh, s-sorry. I’m just so relaxed after today, I think I was drifting off. Don’t worry, I will be more alert at the dinner.”

Stepping out of the bathroom, Ravi stopped to kiss your head. You were beginning to think this was his way of showing affection. You were also beginning to think you liked it. Giving him a quick grin, you helped him get ready. His suit matched your evening dress, exactly, his tie matching your jewelry in color. Once you were both ready, he walked you down the stairs and out the front door, assisting you into the waiting limousine.

The dinner engagement was being hosted at the Lotte Hotel World Venue. The guest list consisted of multiple business owners, artists, and music companies from Seoul. Ravi introduced you to several of the guest, introducing you as his childhood friend that was in to visit. You tried your best to remember every name, every place of business, and whose-who of the elite in Seoul. Ravi stayed by your side, never leaving you alone for more than a minute. You were shy and quiet, something he noticed. When you were seated for the dinner, he sat next to you. Placing a hand on your thigh, he gave a firm squeeze. Not one of those comforting ‘I’m here for you’ squeezes, but a warning one.

“Wonsik, tell us how you and Y/N, met.” one of the couples at the table asked.

“Wonsik and I were in Primary class together, we grew up as neighbors until Uni. I try to come and visit both families twice a year.” you replied before he had a chance to speak.

“Well, you two must have been very close, you would have made a perfect couple.” a woman spoke up.

“We were, but as you, know life gets in the way, and paths wax and wane. Wonsik and I are just happy that we have been able to keep our friendship as strong as it is.” you were getting better at lying, you thought to yourself.

Before Ravi could add anything, food was served. You enjoyed small talk while you ate, Ravi carrying on his own private conversations with the men at the table. You were finishing up the main course when you sensed him tensing up beside you. A man was leaned over towards Ravi, whispering something in his ear and looking in your direction.

“Since she is available, how about you let me have a chance to hook up with her? She is too pretty to go to waste tonight.” the man said, smiling at you.

“Sorry, but she is with me, and besides she is already taken.” Ravi returned, his tone angry.

“Aww, come on Wonsik, what happens in Seoul stays in Seoul, right.” trying to convince Ravi.

“I said she isn’t available. If I catch you laying a single finger on her, you just might lose that finger.” a low growl rising from his chest.

You turned towards Ravi, placing your hand on his knee under the table.

“Wonsik, I need to be excused for a moment. Do you mind?” remembering to ask him before you did something.

“Yes, sure go ahead. Hurry back, you don’t want to miss dessert.” he nodded to you.

Leaving the table,you made your way to the back doors of the venue, stopping to eye Ravi. You attempted to get his attention, make a bit more noise than required to open the door. When he finally looked up, you motioned for him to join you.

“If you will all please excuse me, I shall be right back.”

He weaved his way through the maze of tables, greeting friends as he passed them by. He was in a hurry to get to you, not knowing why you beckoned him. Looking around the back hall, he found you, standing by the exit.

“What was that all about? I saw you getting upset. What did he say?”

“He asked if he could take you out tonight after dinner.” his face was turning red at the thought of it.

“And?”

“And what? You said no giving you to someone else, hard limit. Besides I don’t want to share you.” his hand grabbing your waist possessively.

You startled at the movement, eyes wide. You were afraid someone would see you and wonder, especially since you were introduced as a friend.

“I don’t feel comfortable around him knowing that.” you said, fear a little evident in your tone.

“Don’t worry, you came here with me and you’re leaving with me. But, if he tries to make a move on you, let me know. I’ll handle him.”

“There will be no violence tonight, okay? You are still having to deal with the bar incident.”

“I know. I know” he nodded in defeat.

Heading back to the table, you sat down to dessert. Creme Brulee with a glass of heated Amaretto. It tasted devine, melting in your mouth. The heated liquor warms you from the inside, making you feel a bit heady. You can feel yourself getting tipsy with each glass you drink. By the time dessert was done, you had downed four glasses. Looking in your direction, Ravi noticed your head slightly swaying.

“We had better mingle a bit more, thank you all for sharing dinner with us. Hopefully I will see you all again. Oh, and Mr. Choi, thank you for your interest in the restaurant I plan on opening. I will call to schedule a meeting with you to discuss investments.”

With that said, Ravi offered you his hand, helping you stand. Thankfully you were still steady on your feet, with his help. He placed your hand on his forearm, guiding you through the crowd to talk with other potential investors. After an hour more of standing in heels and drinking a few more glasses of wine, it was time to leave.

You were thankful, seeing as you had began to stumble a tad when you tried to keep up with his pace. He was walking quickly, and you got the message clearly. He was upset, at either you being a bit drunk or the man at the table. Probably both, you figured.

“Y/N, you are going to have to learn to either hold your alcohol, or not drink when we go out.” low rumbling voice emanating from his chest.

“Sorry Wonsik, I was nervous and I just got ahead of myself. It won’t happen again.” your own voice softer and trembling.

“It had better not, at least we left before you got too bad.” he eyed you with a glare.

His tone and his look made you swallow hard, a lump re-forming immediately. You had seen him angry before, and didn’t want to see it again.

“I’m sorry Wonsik, I promise it won’t happen again.”

“We’re gone, so call me Ravi.”

“Yes sir.”

Fuck! It slipped your tongue before you even knew what you were saying. He whipped his head around, stopping mid step to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

Your mouth went dry, your body swaying from the alcohol. You did it this time, you went a step too far.

“Sir” you whispered under your breath.

“Damn it Y/N, I am not your master! Now get in the fucking car.” he was near screaming.

You crawled into the back seat of the limousine, him coming to sit beside you. Due to fear, you huddled close to the window, not daring to look at him. He stayed silent the entire trip home, not even glancing your way once. When the driver pulled up to his front door, you were out before Ravi even had his hand on the release. You were already half-running, half-stumbling up the steps when he grabbed your arm, making you fall forward into the stairs. You went straight down, hitting your head on the top step. You felt something warm running down your forehead and him calling your name. That was the last thing you remembered.

He froze when he saw you going forward. Glued in his spot, he watched as your head hit the step, an audible thud heard. When you didn’t move, he was able to free himself from his trance and run to you.

“Y/N!” he screamed out.

@aspaceformyself @trapped-inside-my-head @beautifulseoulliar @maxinaptak @seoulsunshineandstories @xjamlessparkx @sugababemyg @kpop-addictedloser @min-shookga-yoongi @agustd-suga-yoongii @astronomyturtle @dreamyoongi @holy-yoongi@trashkazuya @micky1518 @rosiemilas @karri570 @kwonnansi @kpop-addictedloser

#vixx ravi #ravi x reader #ravi smut #ravi #dom ravi #ravi angst

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wickedsingularity · 6 years ago

Text

Mittens [Part 1]

wickedsingularity’s Christmas Stories 2018 Masterlist

Fandom: MCU Pairings/characters: Steve Rogers x reader (but not really), all Avengers pre AOU Words: 4297 Warnings: Fluff, bad flirting, too much knitting, kissing

Prompt/summary: Thor wants to try Secret Santa for Christmas. Someone has something special in mind for Steve, and makes damn sure she picks his name.

Mittens Part 2 >>

"I have an idea." Thor came trampling into the kitchen, slamming Mjølnir down on the counter. He shook snow out of his blond hair, the soppy flakes landing on the counter.

"Honestly, Thor," I chastised, sweeping my arm across the surface and wiping the snow away with my pyjama arm.

"My apologies. But I have an idea. Where are the others?"

"Exercising," Clint answered with a yawn. "Too awake in the morning for their own good."

Clint, Tony and I were always the ones having a late breakfast. Natasha, Bruce and Steve were always up way before the crack of dawn, putting the rest of us to shame.

"What's your idea, Point Break?" Tony asked, filling the coffee pot with freshly brewed coffee.

"Jane and I watched a movie last night, and there was this concept called Secret Santa." Thor almost bounced on his feet as he spoke, clearly very excited about his idea. "I would like to try it."

"I'm game." Tony refilled the coffee cup Clint had been holding out ever since Tony starting brewing a fresh batch.

"Me too," I said. I had never been part of Secret Santa before and thought it could be a fun thing to boost the Christmas spirit around the compound.

Thor looked around, grinning. "Barton?"

"Sure. Could be fun."

And so it was that the Avengers were going to do Secret Santa. Clint and Thor took it upon themselves to arrange it, and three weeks before Christmas all of us were gathering in the common area to pick names. I was sitting in my favourite seat, taking in the decorated room while waiting for the stragglers Steve and Bruce. I had just gotten home from a week-long mission and had only seen Pepper getting the boys to bring out all the boxes of decorations before I left.

It was beautiful, to say the least.

There was a giant tree in front of the floor to ceiling windows, packed with stylish and colourful ornaments and warm white lights. Poinsettias scattered around the room. Garlands across the edge of the bar and along the bannisters. Wreaths that matched the tree on every other window pane. The decorative cushions on the couch and chairs were exchanged with large plush snowmen or stylized Christmas trees. A few strategically placed mistletoe.

"Enjoying the view?" Someone suddenly stood in front of me and I looked up.

"Steve! Hi! Yeah, Pepper's done a great job."

"How was the mission?" He sat down next to me on the couch.

"It's all in the report."

"That bad?"

I just grunted and he chuckled.

"Okay, now that we're all here," Clint began, "it's time to get this started."

Thor stepped up with a small glass bowl filled with slips of paper. "Barton has relayed the rules for me and we have adapted them for us. You will each pull a name from this bowl –"

"No using powers or assassin abilities or other sneaky skills to pick an easy name!" Clint interrupted.

"Certainly not! And you will have to find a gift you think they will enjoy and mark it with their name only. We'll open them together on Christmas morning and guess who they're from. Don't tell anyone who you picked!"

"Everyone understands the rules?" Clint asked.

"It's not rocket science, Hawkeye. Yes, we understand," Natasha said impatiently, blowing him a raspberry. She was first in line and Thor approached her, holding out the bowl. She looked at Clint as she reached inside and started rummaging around.

"No assassin abilities!" Clint reminded her.

She didn't reply but kept staring at him as she grabbed a piece of paper, pulled it out. She read the name quickly before crumpling the paper in her hand.

Steve was up next. "If we pick our own name?"

"Put it back in and try again," Thor explained.

Steve nodded and reached inside and was quick to pull out. He held his hand close to his face and unfolded the paper. "We're good."

Then it was my turn. No powers they said. I could feel Clint's gaze burning into me as Thor held out the bowl. But I'd gotten an idea during my mission, and pulled on a thread of the energy running through my veins as I raised my hand towards the bowl. I trusted my instincts completely and let my fingers slip around a certain piece of paper, ignoring all the others. Withdrawing my hand, I felt the paper was comfortably warm in my hand, letting me know it was the right one. Feigning ignorance, I opened it just enough to see the name, shielding it in my hands.

Steve

"No powers?" Thor enquired.

I looked up, straight into his stormy blue eyes. "No powers." Good thing I was a good liar. He nodded and moved on to Tony and then Bruce and Clint, until he grabbed the remaining name for himself.

The entire room got very quiet. Only the faint car honk or siren outside was heard. Everyone kept a firm hold on the piece of paper in their hands, and the tension could be cut with a knife. Something that was supposed to be fun and exciting, suddenly felt like it became deadly serious.

"I'm going to go... get started on this," Natasha said, rising slowly from her seat and walking backwards towards the exit. The rest of us got up to go our separate ways too, and Natasha almost ran from the room.

"Did you get a good name?" Steve asked as we were walking out.

"Yeah, pretty happy with it. Already know what I'm getting them," I replied, giving him a wink before hurrying off, accompanied by Tony's laughter.

Safe and alone in my room, I immediately went to pull out a box full of yarn and knitting supplies from under the bed. I pulled out a half-finished pair of socks that was in there and laid them on the bed, along with a couple balls of yarn to finish them up. Then I sat down on the floor and looked through the heaps of unused skeins. Holding a few up and judging the colour combinations and the softness of the yarn. Finally settling on a few shades of blue, I tossed them onto the bed too and pushed the box under the bed again.

Yeah, I used my powers and cheated to pick Steve's name from the bowl. Ever since I met him, I noticed that he never wore mittens or gloves during winter. I knew his body temperature was a lot warmer because of his increased metabolism and he probably didn't need to cover his hands other than those sinfully delicious fingerless gloves he used for practicality during missions. But having been brought up by parents who wrapped me up in scarves and hats and mittens and thermal underwear and all kinds of warm clothes during harsh winters, I felt he needed at least one pair of good mittens for everyday use. I wanted him to be comfortable.

And of course, I had a huge crush on the man and hadn't yet figured out if or how I should act on it. I had a feeling he wasn't completely uninterested in me and thought this would be a good opportunity to test the waters.

The next couple of days I worked on finishing the pair of socks first. I spent so much time in the common areas and in meetings and briefings and they were all used to me bringing my knitting with me, even on missions. If I wanted to finish Steve's present before Christmas, I had to knit whenever I could, and I didn't want anyone to suspect that I was making presents. Once the big and fluffy socks were finished, I pulled them on and they were now my new favourite pair of snuggly socks to wear at home.

Steve's mittens were up next. I got some questions about who they were for when I first started them, and I just said I was knitting for charity. No one questioned that, as I often did knit for the local shelters and various organisations every winter.

One rare and quiet evening, I was sitting in my usual seat in the living room. Tony and Bruce were up in the lab, the faint sound of Christmassy rock coming from up there. Steve and Thor were pouring over papers and tablets, trying to find out where we might look for the sceptre next. Natasha was flipping through the channels, her legs in my lap and I rested my arms on them while I worked away at the first blue shaded mitten. Clint was sitting on the floor in front of Nat and me, grilling marshmallows on a log candle on the table.

"Hey, boys," I said, getting their attention. "Hold up a hand please!"

"What for?" Clint asked, but held up his hand anyway.

"Just want to make sure it's a decent manly sized mitten before I bind off." I held the knitting up against all three hands. It could fit them all, so I was good to go. "Thanks! Such big strong hands you all got." I winked at them, and Natasha snickered.

As I got back to the knitting and started binding off, Clint set down his stick with a half-eaten marshmallow on and grabbed the skein I was currently using. "It's so soft," he said, rubbing it against his cheek. "Can I convince you to give them to me, rather than charity?"

"This pair, not on your life. It goes where it's intended. But I'd be happy to knit a pair especially for you. Purple?"

"Yes, please! You're the best!" He leaned his head back and made a kissy face.

There was a small cough from Steve. I turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, but he just grabbed a tablet again and moved his finger in a hasty motion over the screen.

Having a finished mitten to use as a template, I quickly started on the second one during a meeting the next day, earning an amused shake of the head from Steve as he led the meeting. I finished it that same evening and hid the pair safely in my closet and in the morning, I headed out to find some purple yarn for Clint. His pair took a fair few days to finish, I had too many other things to do, and Steve sent me and Natasha on a recon mission, having possibly found the location of the sceptre.

It was just a couple of days left before Christmas when I decided to make Steve a second pair. I still witnessed him walking in and out of the tower in the chilly, biting winter wind, and it was just the incentive I needed to make a second pair that he could alternate with. I used red yarn this time.

I was sitting by the bar one evening knitting away and keeping Tony company as he stocked up on alcohol for the holidays. Steve wandered in with his hair all wet from clearly having just showered. He sat down next to me and glanced at the knitting several times as we talked. He'd seen me doing this many times before, and I'd even knitted a cover for his shield on a dare once, but he seemed very interested in it all of a sudden.

"How many pairs have you knitted for charity this month?" he asked suddenly.

"Just three," I replied. I had felt guilty for saying I was doing it for charity and not actually having anything to give away, I had squeezed in a few projects in between everything else I'd made. "And two hats and a scarf. Haven't had time for more than that. You've given me too much work, Captain." I winked and swear I saw him blush lightly.

"I've asked her to make me a pair of socks since I've worn out the pair she got me last year," Tony said. "But she just tells me she doesn't have time." He feigned deeply insulted.

"If you're nice, you'll get some for New Year's." I winked at him and he winked back.

That strange coughing sound came from Steve again, drawing my attention back to him. "It's nice that you're doing this for charity every year," he said, a small smile on his lips, the kind that made my heart skip a beat.

"Yes, well..." I shrugged, looking back down at my work. "I like knitting, it relaxes me. And there's only so much I can drown friends and family in, so why not do something useful with it."

"You should ask her to knit you something, Capsicle," Tony suggested before disappearing down behind the bar to tear open another box of some expensive wine. "Maybe a cock-warmer?" He stood up again, a bottle of wine in each hand. "That's a thing, right?"

I felt my face go hot for a moment and glanced at Steve, who was definitely blushing now. "That's a thing, yeah. I know how to make one. Don't ask me why, but I do."

"You can't say that and not expect me to ask!"

"I don't kiss and tell." Figuring that was my cue to leave before being interrogated, I winked at Steve, slid off the barstool and sauntered out, a red skein tucked safely under my arm.

Christmas morning finally arrived. It was all so perfectly fairy-tale like when I walked into the common area in my snowman pyjamas and those big fluffy socks I had made for myself. We'd gotten a light snowfall during the night, it was dark and the skies were clear for now, allowing us to see a small handful of stars through the light pollution from the city. Most of the Avengers were there already, but looking very tired after Pepper's gigantic Christmas dinner the night before.

I flopped down in my usual seat, pulling my feet up under me and greeting everyone with a "Merry Christmas". A few greeted tiredly in reply. It had really been a gigantic dinner, and it had gotten pretty late and there had been a tad too much alcohol for some.

The last stragglers finally came in, our honorary Avengers and guests for the holidays, Sam and Rhodey, followed by Steve. The latter sat down next to me and laid a hand on my knee briefly, wishing me Merry Christmas.

"Thank you for dinner last night, Pepper," Rhodey said, grabbing the last available seat on the couch.

"You're welcome, James," Pepper replied. She had just emerged from the bar with a pot of steaming hot chocolate and began pouring it into the mugs set out on the coffee table. "I'm glad everyone had a chance to attend this year."

"Shall we get started?" Thor asked, being almost the only one without a hangover and awake enough to feel eager. He had always been fascinated with Midgardian holiday traditions, so it was no surprise that he was already moving towards the Christmas tree to begin handing out presents.

We started with the Secret Santa presents first. We all went in turn, everyone curious about what everyone had gotten.

Bruce got a new lab coat with the muscles of the Hulk printed on them, he claimed to be insulted, but he did put it on and wore it the rest of the morning. He thought it might be from Tony, but turned out Clint had special ordered it for him. Natasha got two shiny, golden daggers with a very obvious Asgardian design, which she seemed to already cherish. Tony got a signed AC/DC box set that he handled as if it would break if anyone breathed on it. Bruce said he thought he'd never use his superhero status for "personal gain" but anyone could see that whatever bad karma Bruce thought he'd get, was cancelled out by how happy Tony was. Clint got a gift basket with a whole variety of coffee beans and chocolate bites to go with each type of bean, and after guessing correctly that Natasha had given it to him, she just said he hoped it meant he would be awake enough to be on time for training after this.

Then it was Steve's turn. He poked and prodded the badly wrapped gift for a bit, then unwrapped it so slowly and carefully I thought I would explode. When the two pairs of red and blue mittens were revealed, he just looked at them for what felt like an hour.

"Weren't the present supposed to be secret until unwrapped?" Bruce asked.

"It was," Thor said.

"No one knew who they were really for," I said, swallowing my nerves, afraid that Steve didn't like them.

But then his fingers moved over the top mitten as if caressing it, before looking up at me with slight confusion in his bright blue eyes.

I tried not to let him see how anxious I was. "I've noticed you never wear anything on your hands when you're out and about, and I know you probably don't need it. But... it's cold, and I just thought..." I shrugged.

"I love them," he said quietly. "Thank you."

I breathed out, stomach doing a somersault. "Oh good."

The room got very quiet and I was just staring at Steve's hand still testing the softness of the yarn.

"You turn," Thor said, nudging me from his seat on my other side.

"Right, right. Sorry." I felt a blush creep up my face, but I pretended like nothing and began untying the red ribbon on the really big black box decorated with silver snowflakes. There were now only two people left whose gifts hadn't been opened, Tony and Steve. My heart started hammering a violent tattoo in my chest as I came to the realisation that Steve might have picked me. I lifted the lid and found a huge cookie jar inside, filled to the brim with Rocky Road. "Oh my God, I love Rocky Road!" I exclaimed and looked first at Tony, whose face was blank, then Steve, who shrugged.

"They're homemade," Tony then said. "But I didn't make them, they're safe! Pepper knows a guy."

"How did you know these are my favourite at Christmas?"

Tony smirked as only he could. "I have my sources."

"Thanks, Tony." I opened the lid and grabbed a bite, it was delicious, and probably not good for me at all.

Thor was the last one, and Steve had gotten him a big heavy book about all kinds of Christmas traditions from all over the world, and Thor was over the moon.

"Now that your little game is over, can the rest of us open our presents?" Sam asked, fingers already digging into the wrapping paper on the soft looking present in his lap.

Chaos ensued and there were crumpled wrapping paper and curly ribbon and forgotten labels all over the place in a matter of minutes, all hangovers temporarily cured, everyone acting like children. I hadn't gotten a big haul, but I got a bunch more yarn, a new pair of combat gloves, a calendar book I had been drooling over, and a big snow globe with Santa and his sleigh inside.

Once things began calming down, I drank the rest of my hot chocolate, and then piled my presents in my arms and stood up. "I'm going to go put this away before breakfast," I said.

"Yeah, me too," Natasha said and quickly gathered her own pile and followed me out. Safely out of earshot, she caught up and nudged me with her shoulder. "Nicely done with Steve's present."

"What do you mean?" I asked quickly, not looking at her.

"Nothing. Just... Nicely done. Clever."

I didn't say anything until I reached my door. Then I turned to her and grinned. "Thanks."

I opened the door, carefully balancing the presents in my arms, Natasha was already down the hall. But then she called out. "You didn't use your powers, did you?"

"You're the spy, you tell me," I replied and slipped inside, closing the door quickly behind me. I wasn't sure, but she may have laughed.

Just a few minutes later, there was a knock on my door. I was on the floor in front of the bed, trying to make room in my box for all the new yarn, the jar of Rocky Road next to me. "Open the door for me, JARVIS?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The door swung open, but I didn't look up to see who it was.

"You're going to ruin your breakfast if you keep eating that." Steve was standing by the foot of the bed, arms crossed, but an amused look on his face. I had just stuffed my face with another bite of Rocky Road.

"Schteve!" I exclaimed, chewing quickly and swallowing.

He bent down and stole a piece from the jar, then sat down on the bed. "Mmm, they're delicious."

"Worth ruining breakfast for?"

"I don't know about that. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you want to do it right."

"Oh, what do you know, Rogers." I blew him a raspberry and went back to stuffing skeins into the box and there was a slightly awkward silence for a bit.

But then Steve spoke. "Uhm, the mittens," he began.

My head snapped up, a skein clutched in each hand. "You didn't like them?"

"I love them, I really do. They're so soft and so beautiful and... Well." He grinned a bit. "But... I just got to ask... Because..." I dropped the yarn into the box. A light red tinge crept up his face and he seemed very interested in my desk chair. "I thought one was supposed to keep it a secret. And I... I don't know. Never mind." He suddenly stood up and strode towards the door.

But, without allowing myself to think, I pulled on the energy inside me and was up and slipped between him and the door before he could reach the handle. "Stop," I said, laying a hand on his chest, but dropping it quickly. "I cheated," I admitted.

"Cheated?" Steve frowned down at me.

"I used my powers to choose your name for Secret Santa."

"Why?"

Now it was my turn to blush and stumble over my words. I looked down at his shoes. "I wanted to. I wanted to... I don't know... I thought it'd be a way to show you... To see if..." I sighed. I was a badass avenger, I had strong powers, I could face aliens and monsters and unbelievable evil, but this goddamn man was tongue-tying me just by being alive. Just because he had those beautiful blue eyes I could stare at forever, because he had that soft blond hair I wanted to bury my hands in. Because he was so warm and kind and had that huge golden heart that made his smile look like the sun. Because he was so tall and strong and I always felt safe in his presence, but still couldn't get my words out right. "I kinda have feelings for you," I said finally, still looking at his shoes.

"So you cheated and chose my name and knitted me mittens?"

I still didn't look at him, sure I would see rejection in his eyes. But then his fingers were on my chin and made me move my head up. I still couldn't see what his expression was because I kept my gaze downward, but it didn't matter, because his lips captured mine and I couldn't open my eyes if I wanted to.

His lips were even softer than I had imagined, somewhere in the back of my mind I recognized the lingering taste of hot chocolate on him, but my stomach was doing all kinds of flips and jumps and I couldn't focus on much of anything except how his lips felt.

All too soon though, he broke the kiss but leaned his forehead against mine, warm breath wafting over me, hand falling to my shoulder. "I wish I could knit," he whispered.

It was so far from anything I had expected, that I pulled back and frowned at him, but he just grinned, slowly opening his eyes. "Okay. I could... teach you?"

Steve slid one arm around my waist to pull me flush against him and moved his hand up to cradle my face. "If we're going to communicate with knitted clothes, I should make you two pairs of mittens too."

It took a few seconds for the meaning of his words to sink in. But then my stomach began doing even more acrobatics. "We can use words," I said breathlessly.

Steve closed the gap between us again. My eyes fluttered closed, but he didn't kiss me. Instead, his lips were close enough so I could sense them. "I kinda have feelings for you too," he said and I felt the words against my lips. "And I told Tony you love Rocky Road."

"Oh," was all I could get out before he was on me, warm and sweet. I stumbled back half a step and was then trapped between Steve and the door. This kiss was so much more, tongues wrestling with each other, lips melding together, and I could definitely taste the hot chocolate on him now, the Rocky Road too. My hands went up around his neck, tugging lightly on the short hairs there. Steve pressed me against the door and the room was suddenly too hot, was the sun inside?

Loud shouting, the sound of running and then squealing out in the hall broke our moment and we pulled apart breathlessly. I couldn't help the giggle that left me.

"Breakfast?" Steve asked.

"Yes, please."

Mittens Part 2 >>

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crystaljins · 6 years ago

Text

By its cover | 05

Characters: Hoseok x Reader

Word count: 4.7k

Synopsis: Your annoying little brother Jimin accepts a dare and summons a demon into your living room. There are multiple problems with this. 1) Demons are the most hated species on earth. 2) That demon happens to be Jung Hoseok, the most popular guy on campus 3) The fact that Jung Hoseok is a demon is his biggest secret and 4) Jung Hoseok hates your guts. You’re in for a wild ride. Demon!Hoseok, magic-university!au and enemies-to-lovers!au

Notes: This part was really difficult to write for some reason. I didn’t want the characters to come across as shallow or poorly thought out but at the same time I wanted drama to happen... I still enjoyed writing it though!!

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Part 5: Rumours

After that party, things are different between you and Hoseok after that. In a good way. While he hadn’t ever been overtly rude prior to that (or at least, no more than necessary since he hated you), he hadn’t exactly been friendly. For a guy whose nickname was ‘sunshine on legs’, he had been quite… not-sunshine-y. But suddenly, his whole demeanour changes and you come to understand how he earnt the nickname. As you begin to settle into a routine with him and adjust to having him stuck in close proximity with him, you start to remember all the reasons you had a crush on him in high school. He’s warm and he’s funny and he’s cheerful. He’s attentive and he’s kind. He spends time with you, making you laugh, he spends time with Jimin, helping him do his homework and playing video games (which is nice because for some reason you remain exhausted as of late and no amount of sleep seems to make it go away) He’s so sweet that it’s hard to believe he ever disliked you in the first place. And while you do acknowledge that part of that may be because he’s stuck within 20 metres of you, you can’t help but notice that he doesn’t have to spend the time with you that he does. He sleeps in your father’s room and 20 metres is more than enough room to find a space of his own and ignore you. But instead he watches movies with you and takes you out to places you wouldn’t normally go to when he feels you have been cooped up alone too long and he studies in your room rather than his own because he likes your company. He insists you sit in the building with him where he works rather than wait outside for him to finish because he rations that it’s boring. (He also develops this odd habit of just lightly resting his hand against yours during that one lecture you dread every week, like he wants to hold it but isn’t brave enough)

Unfortunately for you, in the weeks that come, you are not the only one to notice the shift in Hoseok’s attitude towards you. If you had any friends, you are sure that they might have commented on how strange it is to suddenly see Hoseok so attentive to you. And while you don’t have any friends, Hoseok sure does. And his friends notice. You can’t really blame them, because they have yet to see you guys more than 20 metres apart over the passed few weeks. And to someone who isn’t aware that the two of you are soul-bound, it looks suspicious. Particularly since news that Hoseok had broken up with his long-term girlfriend had only just started to spread recently.

So when the rumour starts to spread about how Hoseok and his girlfriend broke up, you aren’t surprised. To go from being desperately in love with her to spending every waking moment with you with no explanation is certainly strange. If you had observed such a thing without knowing all the events at play behind the scenes, you would have suspected that Hoseok had been cheating with you too. Of course, while you do understand why people make those assumptions, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt your feelings when you realise the murmurs that happen as you walk past with Hoseok in tow are about you. About how you’re a homewrecker. About how Hoseok’s poor, innocent girlfriend had her heartbroken. And of course, she has no interest in revealing the truth since she would apparently rather chop off her own arm than admit she had unknowingly dated a demon.

You do your best to ignore the rumours that whirl around you, but it is difficult, particularly when people begin to approach you. Two girls that you recognise often hung around Hoseok’s ex obviously could not keep their curiosity at bay and approach you as you and Hoseok are walking to your car after a day of his classes one afternoon.

You are no stranger to bullying at this stage and you can sense the malignant intentions of the girls who approach you pouring off them in waves. They are not here for friendly conversation or banter. They eye you like a delicious morsel and you would not be surprised if either of them had werewolf blood running through their veins.

Hoseok, having been friends with these girls prior to the breakup, is oblivious to the tension that thickens the air. He greets them cheerfully. They smile at him, probably not wanting to give the game away, and humour him with conversation. It reaches the point that perhaps you think you had misread the mood that they pounce.

“We just came over because we wanted to talk to (Y/N) here. In private.” The girl on the left says, and you wish Hoseok could detect the poisonous curve to her lips. Alas, he cannot, and with a tentative glance at you, he bids the three of you farewell. Of course, you know that he’s merely going to duck out of earshot and hide behind a wall until you finish whatever secret business you have with these girls.

You probably could stop him- he has somehow become quite adept at reading your expressions and a quick pleading glance in his direction will alert him that something was amiss. But for some inexplicable reason, you do not want him to get dragged down with you. You know an ugly confrontation is on the horizon for you and you want Hoseok safely out of reach before the storm hits. So you watch him go with only the slightest tremor in your fists.

You have your guard up at you turn to face them, like a terrified gazelle facing the lionesses that prepare to prey on her. They take a step closer and their smiles are deceptively warm but you know better. These girls are not your friends and have no interest in being your friends and you know their loyalty lies with Hoseok’s ex-girlfriend. You swallow the saliva that has pooled in your mouth from nerves and attempt a smile. It probably comes out as a disgusted grimace.

“How are you going?” The one on the right asks, and she seems like she may genuinely care. Her smile is sweet enough, and if you weren’t aware of the context of this particular conversation you might have fooled yourself into thinking she just wants to be your friend. You are not stupid though- no one has wanted to be your friend for years.

“Good.” You answer hesitantly. “And yourself?”

She shrugs.

“I’m going alright, I guess. Listen, I don’t know if you know us, but I’m Jihye and this is Bonghee. We’re friends of Yeri?” You recognise the name of Hoseok’s ex and your worst fears are confirmed- these girls are here to confront you about the rumours that are circulating about Hoseok.

“She’s Hoseok’s girlfriend.” The girl on the left, Bonghee asserts. “Or, well, ex-girlfriend I suppose.”

You eye your escape route longingly but you know fleeing will not save you. It is better to face these rumours head on, because if they grow then you will suffer but if they die away then you risk Hoseok’s secret being exposed. It is a delicate line that you toe right now and a lot rides on you answering diplomatically in that moment.

“I see.” You say, and your voice tremors just the slightest bit. You hope these girls are unfamiliar with you enough that they don’t detect it.

“It’s just that… she won’t tell us why they broke up.” Jihye explains, almost sadly. She eyes you with a menacing curiosity lighting her eyes. “And we can’t help but notice that you and Hoseok-“

“Cut to the chase.” Bonghee snaps, evidently the less patient of the two. “Look, I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours about the two of you by now. We just want to know the truth. Did Hoseok cheat? And did he cheat with you?”

“No!” You deny quickly. “Of course not.” They don’t look satisfied at your answer.

“So you just expect us to believe that you’re joined at the hip right after he supposedly broke up with his girlfriend because you’re just friends?” Bonghee suggests incredulously.

“Well… yes?” You respond. “We are just friends.”

Bonghee snorts, and Jihye leaps to formulate a more polite response.

“You have to admit it’s pretty suspicious.” Jihye tells you. “I heard you went to highschool together… why are you suddenly getting in touch as soon as Hoseok broke up with Yeri?”

You pause before answering. Because if you tell the truth right now, if you save yourself, you will essentially be throwing Hoseok to the wolves. If you continue to assert that no, Hoseok did not cheat, and the two of you are reluctant friends at best and former enemies at worst, then it begs the question that Jihye just posed: Why have the two of you been joined at the hip since his breakup? And that leads people down a path of questioning that will no doubt spell trouble for Hoseok. It draws attention to the fact that you guys haven’t been more than 20 metres apart for several weeks now. But if you lie, and pretend that Hoseok did cheat with you, you will almost definitely be forced to endure a repeat of your miserable highschool years. You want neither of those options.

“What’s it to you?” You ask, rather than answer Jihye’s question. She seems surprised at your sudden shift to defensiveness.

“What do you mean? As Yeri’s friend, I want to help her, and that involves knowing-“ She tries to explain, but you cut her off.

“No it doesn’t. If you really want to know, talk to Yeri. I’m sure she knows the whole story and would be happy to share every dirty detail. But you’re not hearing it from me. Mostly it’s because it’s none of your business.” You try to push passed them, but Bonghee reaches out and grabs you arm. You glare at her and snatch your arm free. “Don’t touch me!” You snap, once more going to leave, but both Jihye and Bonghee move to block your path.

“We’ve already told you,” Bonghee says menacingly. “She won’t tell us. That girl’s so proud she wouldn’t admit that something like that could happen to her. Which is why we came to you- we figured a mature, reasonable woman would clear up the misunderstanding and tell us the truth. Unless you really did cheat?”

“I already told you,” You answer back venomously. “We’re just friends.”

“You can’t honestly expect us to believe that. All eyes have been on you guys- you think no one’s noticed you haven’t been apart for weeks? And you sit outside his classes and you sit outside his. You honestly expect us to believe that you’re just friends?” Bonghee argues. You glance desperately around, hoping Hoseok will hear your raised voices and come to your rescue, but it seems he’s truly out of earshot. You want to cry. This is so unfair.

You have been in this situation before. It is so unfairly familiar to you. You know you hover on the edge of a precipice and the wrong choice means you will once more plummet into the valley of social isolation and bullying. And it always seems to come down to this, the choice that you make. Every single time you could have avoided the years of heartache and misery if you just made the right choice and yet again you must choose whether or not you will do the right thing or if you will save yourself and avoid the misery that awaits you. Why does it always come down to this?

But you know, with unfailing despair, that you will always choose to walk the thorny path. You are unsure what about it magnetises you, what entangles you in its depths. The gold at the end of the road must blind you to the jagged barbs that block your path. And for some reason, for some stupid reason that you cannot explain and do not want to explain, Hoseok’s happiness is the gold on the other side of the brambles that metaphorically cloud your vision this time. You can endure the misery, the bullying, the isolation, if it is for his sake.

“I…” You say, at a lost for words. What can you say? You can continue to assert that you’re just friends, that you coincidentally got close literally the day after he broke up with Yeri after years of no contact, but they won’t believe you. You can say you’re soul-binded and stuck together until you figure out how to break the spell but that involves revealing Hoseok’s secret. They don’t seem to want to let you walk away. You’re literally backed into a corner and there is only one way out and you know that things aren’t going to end well. “Yes. We cheated.” You lie, your voice almost a whisper. It trembles and shakes with the force of unshed tears and it almost physically hurts to choke out this lie. But you have no other choice.

Bonghee and Jihye both widen their eyes to comical degrees.

“You… you unbelievable whore!” Bonghee exclaims, going to step forward, her arm raised as if to strike you. Jihye grabs her arm.

“Don’t, Bonghee. You know things won’t look good if you hit a witch.” Jihye shoots you a disgusted look. “We’re going to leave now. I hope something horrible happens to you on the way home.”

And with that, they finally leave you in peace. But you know it is the calm before the storm- it won’t be long until they start blabbing, spreading the lie further. It will inflate and expand and worsen until people won’t be able to look at you without feeling sick.

“What’s taking so long?” Hoseok approaches at last. You wish he’d come earlier. He sees your pale face and immediately is concerned. “What’s wrong? What’d they say to you?” He demands. For a second, you stare stupidly at his concerned brown eyes and you consider lying. But you know people will retaliate against him as well and that he has a right to know.

“They wanted to know if you cheated on Yeri with me. Everyone’s noticed how much time we’ve been spending together, and they started to get suspicious.” You explain, your voice thick with misery. Hoseok looks shocked and runs a hand through his hair in distress.

“Oh man… what’d… what’d you say?” He asks, shooting a concerned look at you. You glance at the ground. You wonder now, if there had been any other option.

“That we cheated.” You admit bitterly. “They wouldn’t believe that we were just friends and I couldn’t tell them the truth… so I lied.”

To your surprise, Hoseok doesn’t get angry or upset. He doesn’t tell you off or scold you. Instead, his entire demeanour deflates, like he is a balloon you have just stabbed with a needle.

“So they think I cheated on her?” He asks despairingly. “That I was the one that ended it?”

You bite your lip at his response- you hadn’t considered how it would feel for Hoseok, to come out of a relationship where he had been wronged and hurt as the bad guy. You had been so focused on protecting his secret that you forgot that the lie would hurt him as much as the truth.

“I… yes. I’m so sorry, Hoseok.” You say. “I didn’t think about how it would hurt yo-“

He cuts you off.

“No, no, don’t be sorry.” He says quickly, though his voice resembles the soft whine of an injured puppy. It makes your heart ache. “You did the right thing. And thank you, for being willing to go down with me. I can’t begin to thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. I just… she just…”

His voice cracks and your heart breaks for him. It isn’t fair, half the stuff Hoseok has had to endure because of something he can’t control. You are angry on his behalf- why do all these things dictate his life? Why is someone as bright and warm and friendly as him forced to live life in the shadows?

“Don’t worry about it.” You say a little forcefully. “What your ex did was awful! You got the short end of the stick, for sure. But things will be bad for a little while and then they’ll get better, ok?” You insist. He looks surprised.

“What do you mean by that?” He asks, confused. You shrug.

“That’s how all these things go. People get mad and upset for a little while. They’ll maybe even seek you out for a time. And that’ll suck. But they’ll get bored and then you can move on with your life. So it’s gonna be hard, Hoseok, but it’ll get better.” You’re not sure what prompts you to do it but you reach forward and grab his hand. He flinches slightly but does not pull away. Instead he stares at you with wide eyes, like he cannot comprehend what is currently going on. “It’ll get better, I promise.”

His whole face softens and his eyes are warm like melting chocolate as he watches you. You suddenly become aware of your heartbeat, throbbing insistently beneath your ribs and when he smiles at you, an unrestrained beam, the traitorous organ skips a beat. His hand comes up, as if he is going to affectionately stroke your face, but he seems to think better. He settles for settling his free hand on your shoulder and twisting his other hand so that his fingers are laced carefully with yours.

“You’re really something, (Y/N).” He says warmly. “You’re right though. It’ll be hard but it’ll get better.”

For all your optimism that things will get better after a while, they still have to get worse first. And boy do they get worst.

At first, you think you are imagining it. The whispers that follow you and Hoseok as you walk around together. Hoseok doesn’t seem to notice them, but you, after so many years of putting up with the rumour mill, are hypersensitive to them. It starts little- side glares, lowered voices, conversations that end abruptly when you come into close proximity with people. But then it escalates. Things like little notes magicked into your bag that say mean things. Charms that alter the words of posters to say awful things about you when you walk past only to change quickly back to avoid detection. People being snappy with you during practical classes or deliberately sabotaging your efforts and then complaining.

You aren’t sure what drives you to hide it from Hoseok. He’s so oblivious and for some reason he isn’t targeted in the same way that you are. Being a popular male probably helps, but you have a feeling it’s also largely to do with the fact that you are not well-liked, particularly in your own faculty. But you do hide it from him- you scrunch up the notes before he can read them, you don’t acknowledge the changing posters since you’re the only one who can see the changes. When someone charms a water fountain to explode in your face you pretend that you accidentally cast a bad luck spell on yourself in a practical class earlier that day since he doesn’t attend them with you and instead waits outside the door for you to finish.

And Hoseok is a lot of things, but it turns out he’s not very observant, and so for the next week you are successful in concealing all the petty, childish ways people attempt to bully you. Even as exhausted as you constantly seem to be, for the most part you can handle it. You haven’t been popular for a long time and if you made it through highschool, where people were so much less subtle in their bullying and did things like hide rotting rat carcasses in your locker, then you can put up with the pettiness of the university students around you. Of course, you didn’t have to battle the constant tiredness that you are suddenly dealing with in highschool, but you write it off as stress. Putting up with bullying like you are is sure to exhaust someone. You aren’t even sure what drives them to bully you as they do- you thought people grew up and out of such underhanded tactics, but evidently that isn’t the case. You have a feeling that most of the pranks you endure are performed directly by Jihye and Bonghee and whatever other close friends Yeri has but you never have any proof and to look into it too much would bring it to Hoseok’s attention and frankly you are too tired too. And while you aren’t sure why you’re hiding it, you know that you are and you do so to the best of your ability. And so you endure. You endure and you are successful at enduring it until you can’t any longer.

The tipping point comes exactly a week after the initial confrontation with Jihye and Bonghee.

You pride yourself on being unaffected by mean and hurtful words. It was how you’d endured highschool and uni, how you’d struggled through years of bullying and isolation. By constantly repeating the mantra to yourself- you’re better than this. Than them. You refuse to be torn down and battered just because people are spouting mean words at you. But when you see the words ‘slut’ and ‘homewrecker’ splattered across the side of your car in magic paint, your eyes water like someone has just slapped you.

Oddly enough, Hoseok sees it too. Magic paint is designed for the endearing purpose of passing secret messages between friends and lovers- only the one who paints it and the one intended to receive it. It is ironic that something designed to be cutesy and sweet has been misused in such a way. Hoseok’s eyes go wide as he takes in the hateful letters marring the car door. You suspect that the sort of enchantments cast on magic paint like this were for people with significantly different magic signatures. His magic is too chaotic for a simple, weak spell such as this to latch onto and effect and that is probably why he sees it. He mouths the words with a disbelieving expression on his face before turning to you.

“Is that… is that for you?” He demands incredulously. For some reason, the anger and horror in his voice spurs the tears you had been holding back to begin to spill forth. You look away to conceal the way tears start to spill forth and you clench your fists in frustration.

“(Y/N),” He calls, and you turn away from him completely before you attempt your next words.

“Are they for you?” You ask. “Or Jimin?”

Hoseok is silent. Obviously the words aren’t directed at him or Jimin and that leaves you. It means someone has been malicious or petty enough to take the time to do this to you. To belittle you and humiliate you.

“This isn’t the only thing that’s happened, is it?” Hoseok asks, suddenly and the stiffening of your form is answer enough for him. “What else?” He asks urgently. You remain silent and so he steps forward and tugs your arm until you are forced to face him. He pales at the tears on your face but charges forward regardless. “What else?” He urges. He sounds angry, but you know the anger isn’t directed at you and perhaps that is what finally drives you to admit the truth to him.

“Notes, charmed to follow me.” You admit softly. “Posters have been changing their wording when I walk past. Someone charmed my shoelaces together and someone else cast magic so my bag weighed ten times more than it should.”

Hoseok begins to tremble with each new admission.

“Why… Why didn’t you say anything?” He asks in distress. “I’ve been right beside you for a week and you didn’t say anything!”

You pause and press your lips together. You don’t know why you didn’t say anything, why you held it in and sucked it up but you have an inkling. An inkling that scares you, for some reason.

“I knew you’d be upset.” You confess aloud. “I didn’t want you to think it was happening because of you.”

“It is happening because of me!” He explodes, whirling around to gesture wildly at the hateful words. They’re painted in bright red and look like blood splatters. “Those words are because they think you did something as awful and cruel as helping me cheat! This is entirely because you decided to keep my secret!”

You remain silent because you both know it’s the truth. You also know that this is the exact reaction you were expecting, the way he shakes in distress, the way he trembles with the knowledge of what had been happening to you. You don’t know why he keeps making your heart ache- you don’t know why nothing you do seems to help him. Why is it that he just keeps getting dragged farther and farther in the pit? Why can’t you seem to wrench yourself from this downward spiral of Hoseok-induced bullying?

All the anger drains from him suddenly and he just looks defeated. Like he is weighed down by the same pessimistic thoughts that suddenly grip your mind.

“You… you’re really not going to tell anyone?” He finally asks. You frown, confused at the sudden question, and a little offended that he still thinks you would betray him like that but then you register the expression on his face and you realise he’s not asking for his own sake. “You’re going to keep it secret, even if they keep doing this kind of thing?”

You bite your lip, and direct your gaze downward, before nodding. You inhale deeply and gather the strength and courage from deep within you that’s gotten you this far and meet Hoseok’s gaze head-on. You offer him a tentative smile.

“I am.” You finally say. “I… I haven’t had a friend in years, you know.” You confess to Hoseok. “No one in my course wants anything to do with me, and no one from high school contacts me because they all remember me as the crazy pasta-girl. Up until Jimin summoned you, all I had were my dad and my brother. They were the only people who cared about me and spent time with me.” You pause, and he’s watching you carefully like you are a puzzle he can’t quite crack. “And even though you weren’t nice at first… You’re my friend now. My first friend since I was a teenager. So yes, if you go down, I’m gonna go down with you, Hoseok. We’re in this together.”

Hoseok just stares at you like you’ve punched him. His jaw goes slack and his eyes water but you do not break eye contact. Because you hadn’t realised, until that moment, the truth of your words. At first, you’d just kept Hoseok’s secret because you thought it was the right thing to do. You couldn’t allow someone to endure the discrimination that Hoseok would face. Your kind-hearted father had raised you right, after all. And it hadn’t actually come at a personal cost to you until Jihye and Bongsoon confronted you the week before. It had been inconvenient and at times frustrating but it hadn’t required anything from you other than a slightly altered daily schedule. But now, now Hoseok is your friend. And you realise that’s why you have been willing to lie for him and have tried to spare his feelings by hiding the bullying. Because he’s your friend and you care about him and you haven’t had a friend in so long so you’re not about to let this one go.

“You… really don’t care that I’m a demon, do you?” Hoseok asks slowly, like he’s just had some great epiphany. “Not even a little bit?” You shrug, but your answer is cut off because suddenly Hoseok is embracing you like his life depends on it. He holds you tight and tucks his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder and you feel his whole body shake with whatever emotions he is holding back.

You feel the softest exhale against your neck and it makes you shiver because it tickles but you don’t miss the words disguised in the exhale.

“Thank you.” Is his soft whisper. “Thank you so much.”

#jhope fic #jhope fluff #hoseok fic #hoseok fluff #bts fluff #bts fic #jung hoseok #jhope #hobi #writing #demon au #enemies to lovers au

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weirdochick56 · 6 years ago

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The Seduction Game- Dean Winchester And Klaus Mikaelson Chapter One

Dean Winchester x Reader x Klaus Mikaelson

Warnings: Explicit language. Lots of it. (lol, what’s new) slightly Jealous!Dean

Disclaimers: I don’t own any SPN or TVD/TO characters/plots mentioned.

Word Count: 2,923 words

A/n: Hey guys....I’m back and well, I know in my “farewell” letter I said I was gonna update completely different stories, and I will, but I’ve decided to make a mini-series inspired by @sherlockedtash88‘s suggestion. Well, technically, I still need to do that one, but this rooted from the rough draft of that one so yeah... I’ve just been really inspired with new stories and if I’m being honest I’m sort of stuck on somee other ones, but I promise it’ll all eventually work out! Anywho... Here it is~ Tell me what you think about this lil’ crossover and if I should continue it please!

Read Summary Here!!

***

“I can’t fucking believe Sam actually convinced made me to go through with this shit,” you growl to yourself through the door, secretly hoping Dean would hear your low grumbles, hear how displeased having to do this made you. And to your twisted pleasure, it’s clear he did when you hear his harsh knocks on the door, startling you so much you stumble back on your excessively tall heels.

“Would you come out already? God fucking dammit Y/n, it ain’t that big of a deal. It’s just a fucking dress,” Dean snaps back, clearly exasperated beyond belief.

You growl, tugging at the long dress with a disgusted frown. “Oh bite me, Winchester. You try and wear this shit then, fucking asshole.”

Suffices to say: you weren’t a dress gal. Growing up a hunter really left no room for a woman to be anything but a bit of a tomboy. And you had to admit, the heels and dress weren’t that bad. Simply...not you.

You hastily throw the door open, revealing yourself to the older Winchester after nearly an hour of nonstop banter. Not that it was anything new either. Dean Winchester certainly had a way of getting under your skin like a microscopic parasite.

You continue to tug at the dress, looking down the barely-tall heels it was completely concealing with pure disdain.

“Do you realize how fucking hard it is to walk in the monstrosities? Oh! And to top it all off, Sam decided to ever so conveniently break his arm and now I have to go with-” just as you start a whole new rant, your eyes land on Dean dressed from head to toe in a tuxedo and the words completely die in your throat, your breath hitching. You’d be a lying bastard if you said you weren’t completely gobsmacked by his appearance.

I mean, you were well aware the eldest Winchester was attractive, but Goddamn, today he looked straight up delicious. From his broad shoulders to his slim waist, a tight-fitting dress shirt hugged him nicely underneath a black satin dinner jacket which gripped onto his prominent biceps charmingly. The dress pants clung to his bowed legs like they were made for them and you found it extremely hard not to let the shock you truly felt flash across your face. You refused to let him see the effect this outfit had on you.

Dean, returning the favor, of course, scoped you out subtly, attempting to remain indifferent, but you could see the shock in his infuriatingly bright green eyes. It made your heart flutter with wicked pleasantry and you suppress the roguish grin insistingly tugging at your lips with all your might. You wanted to think that was it, wanted to believe that a part of you, a part of your heart, wasn’t dancing in giddy delight as of now. But that would be a big lie.

His eyes trailed over your entire body, exposed back, plunging v-neck, perfectly-styled hair, glamorous makeup. His gaze was hungry, yes, but there was something else in there too...something soft... And even though you wished you’d missed the action, you watch, breath stolen, as he tugs his plump bottom lip in between his teeth when his eyes meet yours.

Your gaze flicker to his mouth and you’re sure he can see the sudden desire flooding through your body at the very instant. And anger. Because even though you wore high heels, he was still taller than you. Because even though you fought back and forth like a cat and dog, you couldn’t imagine a world without him in it. Because acting like you hated him back was better than letting the walls around your heart down just to be stomped on by him. Because he hated you and if he got the chance to hurt you over it, he probably would.

You break the electrifying silence with an embarrassingly raspy snap. “Are you going to stare at me all day or are we going to actually, ya’ know, go?” He seems to snap out of it and releases his lip, shaking his head lightly. The look of lust leaves him in a split second and he’s resorted to glaring holes into your head as you speedwalk away from him, trying really hard not to fall on your face as your legs wobble imperceptibly beneath you.

Dean snorts behind you. “I was just observing you for the safety hazards. You know, like wearing heels so ridiculously high you can’t even walk properly in them. God, Y/n, you look like a newborn fawn.”

You simply flip him off over your shoulder, attempting to push away the blush spreading rapidly on your face.

The car ride to Mystic Falls is filled with tension and you wonder if it’s because Sam isn’t here to lighten the mood or if it’s this way for some other reason.

“And you want me to bait a filthy rich vampire for what reason again?” You look over at Dean from the passenger seat, brows furrowed.

Dean sighs, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Because Y/n, Jake said he’s got a thing for pretty, young, tough girls.” He gestures loosely to you.

You smirk at his words and he glances at you every other second, taking his eyes off the road with a weird look. “What’re you doing, smiling at like that?”

You wiggle your brows at him. “You think I’m pretty and tough.”

He glares at you. “No, I don’t.” He sounds so indignant yet childish, it takes up all your strength not to burst out into hysterics.

You chuckle lightly, turning your gaze back to the window. “Oh, I think you really do.”

He growls beside you in frustration. “Will you just shut the hell up?”

You chuckle silently at his demeanor, finding it beyond amusing. “Now, what’d be the fun in that?”

The ball was in full swing when you guys arrived at the luxurious mansion, a classical music band playing loudly in the background of the elegant place and dozens of guests mingling, glasses of sparkling champagne held lightly in their soft, uncalloused hands.

You gawk at the mere beauty of the place, from its high ceilings to the huge spiraling staircases wrapping around the sides of the big room and connecting to another floor. Everything was made of marble and spotless, gold intricate designs lined every wall.

Dean goes to take care of your invitations which you had deprived some other guest the pleasure of, and you stand by the doorway, over your initial shock and in search of your target.

Your eyes trail over the entire space, desperately searching for the man Dean had shown you in a picture.

No not him. Not him. Definitely not him. And...holy shit.

Your shoulders immediately rise to straighten out your back and your lips part at the sight of the tall, lean man that stood a few feet away from you. It’s him. And he is...positively handsome, much more alluring than the picture had shown him to be. Messy light brown hair, strikingly mischevious blue eyes, and-

You quickly turn your head away when his gaze suddenly clashes with yours. And in that split second you can see his face contort into the same as yours when your eyes had landed on him and his eyes hold a light of a mix of shock and curiosity.

Your eyes are still on the ground when goosebumps begin rising on your skin and you feel a dark gaze burning into you. Warily, you raise your head to see where the eyes were coming from and just as you had suspected, he was looking at you, only this time, he was prepared to give you a full-blown smirk. And Goddamn was that smirk sexy as hell.

Your breath hitches with something you can’t really explain spreading on your chest like wildfire, but you refuse to look away, refuse to show him any weakness. So holding his intense gaze, you offer him a small, dry smile. Sarcastic to the extent that you were sure he could tell without that abrupt disconnecting of gazes you did afterward to clue him in.

You could see his startled expression out of the corner of your eye and a smirk began creeping up your lips. You didn’t allow it to settle there though, intent on keeping up the act: he couldn’t feel that you had any interest or he would see you as an easy win and would therefore not be attracted enough to lure him out and chop his head off.

He liked his women strong and playing hard to get always worked in your experience. Except with Dean, your mind annoyingly reminds.

You push the thought away, or well- more like, shove it away along with the light tingles on your skin due to Klaus’s hot gaze.

Suddenly, an arm loops through yours and you jump, startled and ready to take the fucker who’d just dared touch you without permission down. “It’s just me sweetheart, keep walking,” Dean whispers in your ear. You shiver in the tiniest at his warm breath fanning the shell of your ear, but kick him discreetly in the shin, ignore his yelp, and tug him with you down that steps near the entrance.

Dean grunts. “You’re fucking impossible Y/l/n.”

You grin up at him, chin held defiantly high in the air. “You just noticed that?”

Dean offers a -what you can only describe as sarcastic- smile and clicks his tongue. “No, actually. You’ve always been a pain in my ass, it just got bigger as time progressed.”

You scoff, settling for a dark corner in the far end of the room and taking two tall glasses of champagne off a tray from a nearby waiter. “Here,” you pass one to Dean, who takes it, brings it up to his nose and sniffs it. Then he shoves it away with a disgusted frown. “Hell no.”

You roll your eyes. “Dean, drink the fucking champagne and try not to look so...basic, we have a job to do and people to convince.” You wave a dismissive hand his way and sip your champagne lightly, loving the way the cold liquid slid down your throat effortlessly.

Dean smiles sardonically once more and puts his glass on a passing waiter’s tray. “I may be basic, sweetheart, but at least I don’t act like I have a fuckin’ log shoved up my ass.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You know what? Whatever. We have a case to work and you’re being an ass.” Your tone turns stern, strict and businesslike. “Now; what’s the target’s name again?”

Dean huffs at you, clearly holding back the urge to argue further with you. Smart man. “Klaus Mikaelson.”

You look over your shoulder casually and well aware of the vampire’s eyes still trained on you, you lean over and whisper in Dean’s ear smugly. “Well then, look’s like I caught our target’s eye. How convenient.”

Klaus raises his brows at Dean and you blush, looking away. Why were you blushing?

Dean leans away, frowning. He immediately looks around the room, big emerald eyes in search of the vampire. When they land on him, Klaus’s gaze still drinking you in, you can see Dean’s body immediately stiffen up, his jaw clench and his hold on your arm become more firm, tugging you closer to his strong side. You stumble a bit and hold onto his shoulder as he drags you a bit farther away from the attractive man, whose eyes never leave you, without a single word.

You look up at Dean, glaring holes into his head and tug yourself away from his touch in a grand manner. “Goddamn it Winchester, we need him to find me easy to hunt remember? You giving him those looks and tugging me along like I’m your fucking bitch isn’t helping our case, he might think we’re actually together or something. And then he won’t go for me.” You pretend to shudder, scrunching your nose up in mock disgust.

The truth was, the thought of you and Dean in a relationship -even if it didn’t involve the apple pie life for free- it made a certain type of warm wrap its arms around your heart.

Dean looks down at you, his green eyes cold as he releases a small snort. “Pfft.. yeah, as if that could ever happen.” His remark sends a pang of hurt directly into your chest and you pray that it didn’t show on your stoic face as he continues. “Anyways it doesn’t matter what Mr. Mikasson thinks about us.”

You frown. “And why the hell not?”

Dean sighs. “You’re not going to be bait anymore. I’ve decided we’ll go in an old-fashioned way and chop his head off when he heads off somewhere alone.”

You sigh tiredly, whispering back. “Mhmm, I suppose that’s a genius plan, Winchester. Except for one tiny problem. When exactly do you suspect he’ll be alone because I don’t see that ever happening?” you raise your brows challengingly, pointing towards Klaus being chatted up by, well, everyone.

Dean doesn’t respond, only shrugs, his gaze completely monotonous. “Dunno. What I do know, though, is that you, sweetheart, are not going to be bait for that blood-sucking leech,” he growls the insult under his breath.

You reel back, genuinely offended. “Excuse me? And since when do you decide what I can and can’t do?”

Dean clenches his jaw again, making the sharp edges sharper and tempting you to run your finger along it. You shiver in delight and watch as he gives you that infuriated look that makes you hot all over.

“I am not deciding for you, I’m informing you that you don’t have a choice to decide on.”

You can feel the match of anger slowly being lit in the pit of your stomach at his words and can’t really seem to find it in you to care for his reasoning behind them as your blind rage takes over.

“I don’t then, huh? Well, fuck, I guess I gotta listen to the almighty Dean Winchester and not do my job,” you throw your hands up, stepping away from him promptly. You point your index finger at him. “Dean, let me make something very clear for you, in case it wasn’t already; I’m not your bitch nor am I anyone else’s. I decide what happens to me, whether that’d be my body, my life, hell,” You laugh humorlessly, “I’ve probably lost my sanity already.” Your face turns grim and the dry smile melts off as you bite out the next words slowly. “But it’s all happened because I made the decision to put it all on the line. Me, not Sam or Cas and it sure as hell wasn’t you,” you smirk in the tiniest bit. “So let me inform you that I’ll be baited all I want, when and to whom I want to.” You realize that must’ve sounded kind of dumb to say, I mean who wants to be bait? But you really don’t care.

You suddenly relax your posture, pull on a sly smile at his temperamental face and smooth the non-existent wrinkles on your dress. “Now that that’s out of the way...are you going to help me or will I have to go through this alone? Because with or without you, I’m doing it, Dean.”

Dean eyes you for an entire minute, his expression switching from completely pissed off to blank to thoughtful to about-to-say-something-but-holding-back in the span of that one minute, cluing you into the internal battle he must’ve been having.

Finally, after the excruciating minute, his shoulders droop and he sighs defeatedly. “Fine,” he speaks in the same hushed tone as before, except this time he’s more pissed, and you grin in delight.

“Great! Now, we’ll go in as we planned before, except...” you tap your finger on your chin and glance over your shoulder at Klaus who, as you presumed, was no longer looking at you, but talking animatedly to a taller dark-haired man who looked remarkably like himself. Strange.

“I don’t think the info we’ve been given is accurate. There’s something...different about this vampire don’t you think? And in that case, I say we’d have to go about it in a completely new way.”

Dean frowns. “What do you mean different?”

“I mean, Klaus Mikaelson is an extremely wealthy, powerful, influential,” handsome “vampire and I think the way to get to him can’t just be done in one day. We might need to work this case longer than we thought. Gather more info.” You keep out the part where he had this strange enticing aura drawing you in even from across this humongous room and you simply couldn’t figure out why.

Dean groans. “Fucking shit. They’re all the goddamn same Y/n. They’re all evil motherfuckers that need their goddam heads chopped off. I really don’t get what you could possibly think is different about Mr. Fancy Pants Mikaelson over there.” He all but spits the name out like bile in his mouth.

You sigh and glance over at Klaus for what must’ve been the hundredth time that night. There was something about him, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but you felt incredibly attracted to it. Something about the cocky yet charming air he gave off reminded you somewhat of Dean, but in a completely different way. It was that sparkle in his eyes...

It was strange and sort of scary, to be honest.

“Dean, I think it’d be best if we took it easy and went with a new plan. Instead of simply dangling me in front of him like he’s a lion and I a piece of tender meat, let’s do it differently.” You never take your eyes off Klaus when you speak and almost as if he can feel you looking at him, he turns to you, baby blue eyes lighting up when they land on your own y/e/c eyes already boring into him.

“I’m going to seduce him.”

Read Chapter Two Here!!

***

I’m so happy to be back!

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO SENT ME MESSAGES AND REPLIES AND WORRIED FOR MY WELLBEING, I REALLY APPRECIATE IT ALL AND OF COURSE YOU GUYS FOR THE PATIENCE AND LOVE AND OH FUCK- IM GONNA CRYYYY 😭😭😭

Anywho, Y'all already know. Send me asks, messages, requests, REPLY, LEAVE FEEDBACK MY LOVESS PLEASEEE. Do whatever suits you the most lovelies! (I missed calling you guys that) Tags are all open so don’t hesitate to let me know if you wanna be tagged in any shape or form.

A special thanks to:

@multifandomdisappointment - currently my only “Dean Sweetheart”

@wildefire - currently my only “SPN perm”

And my fantastic forevers!

@jessikared97

@sherlockedtash88

@lilypalmer1987

#klaus mikaelson x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x klaus mikaelson x reader #love triangle #the originals #supernatural

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cordonianchoicesqueen · 6 years ago

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Rewritten: The Royal Romance: The Hedge Maze (Part Seven)

A/N: I did actually pay for this diamonds scene the first time I read it and it was what made me feel like Liam was the only person for Riley... for a little while.

Summary: Riley and Liam sneak out after the Masquerade to the Hedge Maze. Riley is introduced to Bertrand and finds out about the financial difficulties the Beaumonts are facing.

Choices Chapter: Book One, Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Characters and main storyline from Pixelberry’s Choices.

Word Count: 2600+

Warnings: tiny little bit of NSFW, but pretty PG-13

The Hedge Maze

The King gave a short thank you and farewell then the party dispersed either back to their rooms in the palace or to the cars out front. Within fifteen minutes I couldn’t hear a sound in the building. I paced my room, watching the clock. I thought about changing but something felt so exciting about running around a hedge maze in a ball gown I couldn’t afford with a Prince who wasn’t allowed to be alone with me, especially at this hour. The shoes and mask however were abandoned at the side of my bed. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I creaked open my door and tiptoed down the hall being careful to check for staff or security. I somehow found my way back downstairs and made a bee-line for the ballroom. The staff were clearing the room so I waited for an opportunity to sneak through and go out onto the veranda. As I made it out into the garden, I broke into a sprint heading for the hedge maze, feeling the dewy, well-trimmed grass beneath my toes. The maze was much larger then I thought as I got closer, the hedges towering above me. The tree at the centre with it’s elegant lights throughout the branches looked magical. Just as everything did in this fairy-tale world I’d found myself in. Out of nowhere, Liam materialised, looking even more dashing with the added touch that this wasn’t allowed.

“Cutting it a little close there,” I chided him, looking at my wrist as if I was wearing a watch. He sighed, “I was trapped in a conversation about table seating for tomorrow’s picnic but I managed to tear myself away from that truly awe inspiring discussion… for you. Shall we?” His eyes twinkled, a handsome quality, and he offered me his hand. I liked the way he did that. Always giving me the option to either walk alone or with him. It was my choice. It was an easy choice. I took his hand and we approached the maze, “it really is beautiful here at night.” I gestured over to a colossal fountain depicting dolphins jumping and lights cascading through the spitting fountains. “I wish I could take all the credit but the gardens out here were my mother’s vision,” he said with pride, “it was her last wish. Sometimes when I stroll this garden at night, I think of her.” I squeezed his hand as we paused. He looked up at the star-studded sky, more stars than I had ever seen. The city lights in New York drowned out the natural sky and seeing it now, I was filled with wonder and how I had survived without this spectacle for so long. “I’m sure she would have appreciated how much you care for her garden and her creativity,” I said softly. “Thanks. The garden holds a lot of good memories as well. You probably think my games with Drake are silly,” he blushed. “I don’t know,” I said, “it… sounds like a lot of fu- TAG, you’re it.” I let my hand slip out of his, tapping his shoulder and ran straight into the maze. I hitched my skirt with one hand and ran my other hand along the wall of the maze with the other, feeling the cut hedges graze my finger tips. I could hear his laughter and his feet pounding the ground chasing after me. I knew there was no way he could hear what direction I was going with my bare feet carrying me at what felt like the speed of light. I kept my eye on the tree at the centre, trying to find the right path. “Cheater!” I heard him yell a little way off. I couldn’t help but let out an excited giggle as childish excitement pulsed through me. Despite my head start, I knew he was gaining. I turned a sharp corner and was faced with a straight path to the centre of the maze! With new energy I sped ahead. The hedge here arched over me and beautiful flowers bloomed from the walls. Fairy lights were strewn across wooden beams and I was mesmerised. I could hear Liam approaching round a corner connecting to my path and instead of going straight ahead I dug my heels in and stopped. As he turned the corner I jumped out at him. He let out a small yell and barrelled straight into me. We both went tumbling to the ground, but Liam’s reflexes were fast and he held onto me tightly to take the brunt of the fall. I lay on top of him as we breathed heavily, laughing. All pretence of nobility and monarchy disappeared. “We made it, I can see the centre just up ahead,” he said, our faces only inches apart. “I do believe I win,” I said, picking a blade of grass off his shoulder. “How do you figure that?” he raised an eyebrow. “Easy, I am on top,” I giggled. We both suddenly became very aware of just how close our bodies were. We could feel each other’s hearts pounding in our chests from running. You could have cut the tension in the air with a knife as my body straddled his. We both wanted each other, deeply, intensely. “Hey! We don’t know who tagged who here. I want a second ruling,” he teased, placing his hands on my hips, pulling me down onto him. “Well we don’t always get what we want… even princes,” I teased, whispering in his ear. He laughed. His gaze resting on my red lips. I bit my bottom lip, trying to control my desperate need to kiss this man, to strip him naked and have him kiss every inch of my body. I could only imagine that he was thinking the same thing looking into his craving eyes. “There’s something about you…” he shook his head, “that is just so right.” He cupped my face in his hand, his fingers warm and soft linger on my cheek. “I can’t help myself,” he whispered, caught in the moment. He pulled my face towards his and my desperate need for his mouth was answered. I feasted on his lips, as our kiss quickly intensified. He tasted like champagne and strawberries. His hands moved across my back, gripping me as close to his body as he could. I bit his lip and kissed down his sharp jaw line, licking the bone, sending shivers down his spine. He let out a small groan and arched his body against mine as I kissed his neck, sucking lightly and playing with his skin with my teeth. With an animalistic growl from the back of his throat he flipped me onto my back so that he was on top of me. It was a delicious noise that made me want to scratch my nails down his back and take off all his clothes. I wrapped my legs around his back but he was careful to not put all of his weight on me as he expertly kissed my lips and wrapped his fingers in my hair. I didn’t want him to be careful with me though, I wanted to feel his full weight against me. He kissed down my neck, gently, his hands on my tits and squeezing them. He hit a sensitive spot on my neck and I let out a whispered moan of his name. “Liam,” I said in ecstasy, craving him more than I had craved anything in my life. However, my call of his name had the opposite of the desired effect I wanted it to have on him. He seemed to shake himself awake and pulled himself from the dream we were in. “Oh, I’m, eh,” he stumbled, blushing, “we shouldn’t. We don’t know what will happen… I can’t hurt you... What if…” And like that the moment was lost as he stood up and backed away from me. That was the question. What if I am about to watch him fall in love with someone else. What if I am about to watch him literary choose someone else over me. I had known this man a day yet I wanted to give him everything. I trusted him and felt like I knew him but two intense days together did not mean I was the definitive choice. Olivia had said herself that she had known him since they were children. I did not have a bond like that with him. It was far more likely I was going to end up heart broken in this situation. No matter how you looked at it. “I know,” I said standing up and trying to shake some of the dirt off my now off-white dress. I didn’t want to look at him. I felt embarrassed for beginning to assume that we were on the same page, in the same position. We may have a connection but I was nothing. I felt small. He came up behind me and surprised me by wrapping his arms around me and whispering in my ear, “what is it about being around you that makes me want to break all the rules I’ve ever learnt?” I let myself sink into him, already at the level of comfort you’d expect to have from someone you’ve known for years, “maybe, you need someone like that in your life.” “Maybe I do,” he kissed my cheek. “This was unexpected… but it was perfect.” I felt the embarrassment ease as I could tell he was being honest. I wasn’t reading the signs wrong, he wanted me as badly as I wanted him. I guess he just had better control. “You laughed more in this maze than you did all night at that ball,” I finally turned in his arms to face him, snuggling into his chest. “I guess, I really needed this,” he enveloped me close. “Thank you, Riley.” “Thank you, Liam,” I said. We held each other for a moment, as equals. As two people without responsibility or somewhere else to be. “Will I see you soon?” I asked, looking back at his chiselled jaw and glittering eyes. “Yes, tomorrow. It will be very busy… but I’m sure I can find some time… for you,” he kissed my forehead. “I look forward to it,” I smiled, warmly but with still a twinge in my heart.

When I snuck back into my room I rest my back against the door and let myself slide down it until I was sat on the floor cuddling my knees. I was so sleepy but awake because of the jet lag, so sad but happy, so confused but so sure. A million thoughts in my head. Suddenly, I heard a tap at the door. So late at night, I wondered who it could be. I wondered if Liam had managed to get away from his guard, not wanting to be away from me unless he had to be. I opened the door. “Maxwell, hey!” I said, hiding my body behind the door as I was still wearing my white dress, now covered in dirt. “Sorry. I know it’s late but there’s someone you should meet,” Maxwell replied, with excitement. “Bertrand, this is the one I was telling you about! This is Riley!” Maxwell stepped to the side to reveal an imposing man with a stern expression. He was nothing like Maxwell, I could already tell by his stand-offish stance and the way his eyes sat stone cold. “This,” he said slowly, “is the girl you’ve chosen to represent our house?” “Yes! Nailed it right?” Maxwell exclaimed. “Riley, this is my older brother, Bertrand.” I realised it was probably weird I was still hiding behind the door and stepped out to shake his hand, “It’s nice to meet you, Bertrand.” He looked down at my hand with a scowl and took in the dirty marks on my dress and my dishevelled hair, “the proper way to address a Duke is ‘Your Grace.’” “Oh! I’m so sorry, Your Grace,” I said, dropping into a neat curtsey. He rolled his eyes in a very Severus Snape-esque style, “at least it looks like you can be trained.” I was so fed up of these nobles looking down on me that I couldn’t control what I was saying when I angrily and wearily replied, “hey, I’m not your pet!” “He doesn’t mean it like that,” Maxwell looked at Bertrand with pleading eyes. “Maxwell… a word in private,” Bertrand responded. Without waiting for a response, Bertrand grabbed Maxwell’s arm and yanked him further back into the hall. I turned around to give them privacy. Although I could just about make out what they were saying in hushed, angry whispers. “That’s the girl you picked to represent our family?” Bertrand hissed. “Yeah. Liam really hit it off with her when they met at the restaurant for his bachelor party. She was our waitress,” Maxwell said, positively. “A waitress…” Bertrand said but then repeated in an explosive whisper, “You brought a WAITRESS? I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you! We could’ve had our pick of any unsponsored duchess or countess in half of Europe!” “Well sure, but like I said, she and Liam have a lot of chemistry. I think he really likes her,” Maxwell said, completely ignoring his brother’s outburst. “I know you probably don’t care but she could make him really happy. Like I have never seen him look so happy kind of happy. Shouldn’t Liam have a shot at that, even if he is the Prince?” I smiled to myself. No wonder Maxwell was being so kind to me, a stranger. He was really just being a great friend to Liam. He thought I would make Liam happy and was going out of his way to make sure we had the opportunity to explore that. He knew making me happy would make Liam happy. “Spare me your sentimentality,” Bertrand grumped. “You’d better hope that this waitress doesn’t ruin everything.” I heard his heavy footsteps making their way back to my door. I turned, knowing I was doing a bad job of covering up that I had heard their entire conversation. Bertrand squinted his eyes at me, “we have to trust one another to be successful.” “Right,” I said nodding. “Perhaps Maxwell didn’t full explain this, but if our house puts forth the Prince’s choice, we’ll win fame and recognition…” Bertrand said clearly. “Something we could really use right now, because we’re actually kind of broke,” Maxwell pulled a face. “Maxwell! You overstep!” Bertrand yelled. “Sorry,” Maxwell sighed. “You’re broke? Is that why I had to sort out my dress for tonight?” I looked down suddenly wishing I hadn’t just rolled around in the dirt in something that wasn’t easily replaced. “That’s precisely why,” Bertrand said. “Sorry about that. We can only afford to get you the bare minimum through this process. No one outside of our family really knows how bad things are,” Maxwell said playing with his hands. “Do you get money if I marry the Prince?” I questioned. “Not directly but we get leverage through prestige. It would be best to get that leverage before others find out about our… situation. In the circles we run, if word got out of our financial ruin, it would be a scandal,” Bertrand exclaimed dramatically. “But our name is worth something at least!” Maxwell interjected. “At the very least, we can introduce you to the right people, get you invitations to the right events, even a couple dresses to help you through. I only regret that we can’t offer you more.” “Speaking of which,” Bertrand said curtly, “we must prepare you for tomorrow’s event.” “The Derby!” Maxwell said. “You know what a Derby is?” Bertrand looked at me raising his eyebrows. Completely on the spot, I felt like I was on a quiz show, “isn’t it just fancy horse racing?” “Basically, yes. It will be your first opportunity to make an impression on the press as they will be covering the event,” Bertrand did not give me any points for my correct answer. “The press love events like this, especially with all the tabloids taking a huge interest in the search for the new queen,” Maxwell said. “Everyone in Cordonia will be influenced by what is written about you. The monarchy serve the people. You will need the approval of the press and, therefore, the people to win Liam’s hand,” Bertrand explained. “The Queen will, also, be present. You must earn her favour.” Looking at my tired and overwhelmed face, Maxwell said, “we’ll speak tomorrow more about it. Nothing to worry about. You’ve got this.” Maxwell gave me a quick hug. “Goodnight,” Bertrand said already half way down the hall.

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