#at least i have lemon bars to enjoy later <3< /div>
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bpd stop being evil evil evil evil evil send post
#and imposter syndrome both are highly evil#oughhhhh i feel like that sad ant.#can’t be productive bc of this evilness in my head#asked friend to hangout bc i can’t be productive but i think he’s busy#i probably should just try to rest anyways#at least i have lemon bars to enjoy later <3
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Chapter 3: Cheers another year
Mia inserted her room key in the door and the green light illuminated.
After she made herself comfortable she unpack her toiletries and put her Veuve Clicquot Rose in her rooms fridge to chill. She hopped in the shower and played afro beats.
20 minutes later wrapped in a towel Mia sat on the bed and began to decide where she wanted to eat dinner. She picked a high rated steak house and made reservations for one. After a day of travel Mia took a nap but made sure to set an alarm.
Mia never had to set alarms in her life but did so out of habit. However, it never failed that Mia would always wake up right before her alarm would be set to go off- it was like she had an internal alarm clock. Her body always knew just when to get up.
Mia got dressed in a casual but very cute white dress, her favorite chunky white sandals, and gold accessories. She called and Uber and headed for dinner.
Mia opted to sit at the bar when asked, that way she could people watch and it would push her to engage in conversation if someone were bold enough to talk to her.
After Mia ordered her drink and food, she absently checked her phone and halted when she saw a text from her ex.
Chance: Hey. I hope you have a good birthday.
What bothered Mia most about the text was that her birthday wasn't until tomorrow.
Her and Chance hadn't spoken for 2 months after Mia finally put her foot down and broke off the relationship for good. Chance had been dragging his feet in just about every aspect of their relationship and Mia was fed up.
So instead of sending a long text about how disappointed she was that their relationship failed-she put her phone down and decided to enjoy her Lemon Blueberry mojito.
Mia was enjoying her food and light conversation with her attentive bartender when a tall brown skin gentlemen asked her if the seat next to her was available.
Mia barely looked at him when she responded that it was. The handsome man moved the seat slightly away from Mia in an effort not to crowd her. As he sat down …he sized Mia up subtly to see if she was open to engage in conversation.
Handsome: Is the steak any good?
Mia was in the middle of a sip from her drink when she looked at the man seated next to her.
He was FINE. He had a close hair cut with slight waves, his beard was neatly trimmed and he had a few grays. His eyes were warm dark brown almost matching his chocolate complexion. When he talked he smiled halfway.
Mia: I think so. I would offer you some...but you know, germs.
Handsome: I would take the chance on those germs
Mia smiled.
The handsome man did not have an accent that she could place. He ordered some type of a bourbon. Neat. After taking a small sip he introduced himself.
Handsome: Im Andre
Mia: Mia
They both exchanged smiles. After their brief introduction Andre order steak frites.
Mia and Andre talked and laughed for what seemed like hours. Mia learned that Andre was in town for SXSW like Xavier and many others that weekend. He came to the steakhouse to get away from the busy trendy restaurants near all the SXSW activities.
Time got away from Mia and she finally looked at her phone to see two text messages. One from Xavier and one from Chance. She only opened the one from Xavier.
X: want to meet for a drink? We can just sit at the bar at your hotel, so you don't have to go far?
Mia: Sure. Im finishing up dinner:
X: cool, see you in 30?
Mia: sounds good
Mia asked for her check and then excused herself from Andre to use the restroom before closing her tab and heading out and meeting X for a drink.
Inside the bathroom she blotted her face and smiled at the ease of the conversation with Andre. She wondered if they would exchange numbers.
When Mia came back... the seat next to hers was empty. Mia was a little sad she didn’t at least get to say goodbye.
Mia picked up the black folder to take a look at her check only to find a blank slip of paper with small writing.
You are so beautiful and cool, sorry I had to run, but you shouldn't have to pay for your own dinner, especially not on your ‘almost’ birthday. -Reese
Maurice signed the note with his phone number. Mia smiled
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HI Sanne!! SO excited about your celebration! <3 Congratulations on 600, omg. Well deserved.
My prompt req is: Steve x fem!reader, maybe best friend or neighbor, or Bucky's sister perhaps? He came home from the Army v serious, v closed off to everyone, but he's compulsively showing his concern about her, ie. something like tugging her elbow so she doesn't trip, giving up his coffee cup for her use, putting himself between her and a creep at the bar, etc. Something pushes him over the edge and she calls him on it. (sumthin like that ;) <3)
𝟒𝟎𝐬!𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
lord i am sorry. i meant to answer this months ago and it is such a fabulous prompt, kate, but the writer's brain just didn't want to cooperate. ANYWAY, i finished it, two hundred followers later. hope i did it justice <3 please have an angsting stevie and a sweetheart reader:
****
"'Scuse me, sorry—" you squeezed past a couple of old ladies who side-eyed you, stepping away. The bulky food trays certainly weren't improving matters, and no one seemed too keen on helping.
That was alright. The neighborhood hadn't had a block party in years and now that the war was over, people were in high spirits. You didn't expect them to pay attention to the woman shuffling around potato salad and cottage pie.
"Y/N!"
Loretta bounced over, eagerly taking the foil off a tray and helping herself. You wobbled, just barely setting down said tray before she dug in.
"You bring the best potlucks,” she gushed around a mouthful.
"Thanks, Lor. Are you enjoying yourself?"
Loretta was your perky downstairs neighbor who liked to chat for far too long while getting her mail. But she was nice enough and you'd never wish her any ill will, especially since she helped set up tents for tonight.
"Oh, sure. You know who I saw?"
"Who?"
She grinned, expression turning dreamy.
"James Barnes. We're going dancing Friday."
You blinked, hands falling to your sides.
"Bucky’s back?"
"Mmhm! Is this chicken?"
"Beef. When did he return?"
You wracked your brain trying to think if you'd seen him. Bucky was back… did that mean Steve was too?
"Nearly a week ago," Loretta chirped. "He's so handsome in his uniform."
"I'm sure. What about Steve?"
Loretta clapped her hands together, forgetting the food for a moment.
"Oh, you mean Captain America? Of course he is. Haven't you seen him yet? Nearly everyone on the block wants to meet him. I've got a sister in Syracuse who's dog mad I get to see him everyday."
Loretta scooped herself a large helping of potato salad, then pointed with her fork.
"He's over by the fence, talking to Maria Donaldson. Her father's a senator, you know. Not too shabby, huh?"
"Oh," you replied quietly. "Right. Good for him. I'm, um, gonna go check on the desserts."
You hurried away, going straight for the rows of pies. You'd been one of the people to organize the party originally, mainly food. You busied yourself with cutting and serving slices, not daring to look the Donaldsons' way.
"Do you have blueberry?" asked a short, stout man with thinning hair. You shook your head.
"No, sorry. We have apple, chocolate, lemon, banana cream…"
"Why didn't you make blueberry?"
"No one brought it this year. At the next block party, I'll make a suggestion…"
"You broads have one job,” he sneered, crowding you and the table. “The least you could do—"
"Is there a problem?"
Steve was in a checkered button down, hair neatly combed back. He’d always been handsome, with his sweet blue eyes and pink cheeks. Perfect for a senator's daughter.
He stepped between you two, blocking you from view. You peeked around one giant shoulder as he stared down your heckler.
"This girl and her bridge club forgot the goddamn blueberry pie."
Steve straightened, gaining at least another inch in height.
"The lady worked very hard on this event and provided plenty of great food. You can find something else. If not, you'll leave."
“Who the hell do you think you are? I’m a part of this neighborhood and—”
“And this party is a privilege,” Steve cut in, stance wide. “Do we understand each other?”
How different this Steve was compared to the upstairs neighbor you remembered. He’d never backed down, ever, but now, people listened.
The man grumbled. Steve didn’t flinch, and after deciding he didn't feel like getting his ass handed to him by Captain America, the asshole snatched a piece of lemon pie.
"Thank her," said Steve, easy as anything. "She didn't have to give it to you."
The veins on the man's forehead bulged as Steve coolly stared him down.
"Thank you," the man said gruffly, then stalked off.
Steve turned as you walked around the table. You offered a tentative smile. He returned it, dimmer than you remembered.
"Hi, Steve."
"Hey. Are you alright?"
You nodded. "I'm fine. That was…"
"He won't bother you again."
You wrung your hands. Steve stood ramrod straight, arms behind his back. The smile was gone as quickly as it appeared.
"Welcome back," you offered.
"Thank you."
"I'm glad you're home. You and Bucky."
Steve nodded, gaze softening. He looked exhausted.
"It's good to see you, Y/N."
You gestured to the table.
"Pie? There's tons. Or um…"
You crouched to pull out the cinnamon cake you'd made specially for the end of the night.
"I'm technically saving this for after the fireworks," you confessed with a laugh, "but, do you want some? You like cinnamon cake, don’t you?"
You didn't need to reveal that you may or may not have made this for in case you saw Steve.
"Oh. No, I don't want to cut into it if it's for everyone."
You smiled, tilting your head.
"No one will know, Steve. I know it's your favorite."
"I'll wait. Thank you, though."
You chewed the inside of your cheek, nodding. The Steve from before would've happily accepted a slice.
"Have you eaten anything?"
"Yeah, I've been at the booths down the block. It's a great event you organized, Y/N, seriously."
"Oh, well, it wasn't just me," you shrugged. "Plenty of people helped."
"You put it together, though. Only you would keep everybody's spirits up like this."
"People deserve it." You deserve it.
"Y/N! Can you bring these over to the Brigleys' booth?"
Loretta suddenly heaved several trays into your arms. You staggered briefly, balancing the weight.
"Oh, Captain!" she squealed, pushing past. "So good to see you! Well, that serum really did a number, huh? Golly."
Steve's expression was tight. "Ma'am."
Loretta giggled. "Look at that. Ma'am. Army shaped you right up."
"Uh, Loretta," you began loudly, smile tight. "Isn't that your cousin talking to Bucky over there?"
Loretta whipped her head around, scowling.
"I'm never inviting her to something again, I swear!" she snapped, stomping away.
Steve bowed his head, biting back a smile. You giggled, adjusting your grip on the trays.
"Tell Bucky I'll give him an extra cinnamon cake as an apology."
Steve snorted. "He'll be just fine. Jumped right back into the swing of things."
"And you?"
His gaze flicked up to you.
"I don't know," he finally confessed.
"Y/N!" Mrs. Brigley waved from down the street, gesturing to the trays.
"Yes, Mrs. Brigley. Be right there!"
You took a step forward. Immediately, your knees buckled, shoes catching on uneven pavement, the weight too much. Steve surged forward, catching the pans with one arm and holding your waist with the other. You inhaled sharply at the feel of his warm hand plastered over your ribs. He set the pans down, searching your face as he goaded you to a chair.
"Steve—"
"I'll be right back,” he said firmly. “Stay there, rest. You've been on your feet too long."
Though the words were a Captain's order, his tone was tender. You nodded, watching as he went and scooped up the pans like they were nothing, jogging to Mrs. Brigley. She, of course, wanted to chat, because everyone wanted a piece of Steve now. And why wouldn't they? Steve was golden, always had been. It wasn't fair of you to want him to yourself. You had no claim on him; not before, and not now.
"Finally, you're here. The recycling by the stop sign needs to be taken out."
An older woman, holding an entire pie you were pretty sure she did not make, stood before you, waiting expectantly. You sighed, plastering on a smile.
"Sure. Thank you for informing me."
She hobbled away, probably to go steal more food, while you went to wrap up the bag, pulling it out of the bin. You dragged it out and down the sidewalk towards the small alley with the recycling bins. It wasn't as well lit and you tried to avoid stepping on the broken bottles and trash that littered the cement. As you lifted the lid and heaved the bag in, quick footsteps approached, crunching glass.
"Y/N? Jesus. Are you okay?"
"Steve?" You closed the lid, your face a question mark as he neared. "What's wrong? Did something happen to the booths?"
"You shouldn't be here by yourself. It's dark and you could cut yourself."
You blinked. "Steve, it's less than fifty feet away from the street. I think I'll be okay."
He closed his eyes briefly, swallowing, chest rising and falling too fast. For a moment, you feared an asthma attack, something you'd witnessed quite a few times.
"Hey, hey. What's going on?" you asked.
"N-nothing. C’mon, let's—"
"Steve." You rested both hands on his wrists. He stopped. "You've been acting off all night. It's clearly not nothing."
He bowed his head, shoulders hunching.
"I missed you," he confessed quietly.
"I missed you too," you smiled. "But you've got me, Steve. I'm not going anywhere."
"Stuff happened, when I was over there, and I saw—" Steve stopped, swallowing.
He wavered forward the tiniest bit, arms twitching. Then he froze, restraining himself. You took the hint, wrapping your arms around his neck and coaxing him into a hug. Immediately, Steve clung to you, hands on your back, melding you to his chest. You hummed, breathing him in.
"Yeah," you murmured, smoothing over the cowlick that just never seemed to settle no matter how much pomade Steve wrangled into it. "I think if anybody deserves to rest, it's you."
There was a heaviness, a weight that hadn't been there the last time you saw him, over a year ago. He pulled back slightly, nose nearly touching yours.
"Steve, I—" you fumbled, realizing how close Steve was, how you could count all the freckles on his cheeks if you wanted to.
“Yeah?” he breathed, warm air on your cheek.
Your arms were around his neck. His hands stayed dutifully on your waist. Steve’s eyes were like starlight, bright and earnest. Something delicate pulled in your chest, curling close to your heart. His eyes went to your lips.
“Kiss me,” you whispered.
Steve surged forward like he’d been waiting all night to do so. He melded you against him. Your lips slotted together. Kissing Steve was coming home. You knew he felt it too, with how he made a small noise into your mouth, unable to get enough of you. You felt his worry, his weariness forged through war and being stretched in a hundred different directions.
Land here. I’ve got you.
Eventually you had to come up for air. But Steve didn’t go far. He merely moved to your sternum, resting his forehead. You held him like that, playing with the short, soft hairs at the nape of his neck.
“I’m glad you’re home, Steve,” you repeated, and this time he didn’t tense.
“Yeah,” he said against your skin. “Me too.”
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x yn#steve rogers fanfiction#40s steve rogers x reader#i get a prompt with protective steve where the reader is basically his wife and i lose my mind. am i that predictable? (yes)#inbox#blurb#kate tag 🍭
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heart-on.
↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.
◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]
❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜
notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!
⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.
warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(
You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.
“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”
“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”
“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”
“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”
Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.
“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”
You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”
“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”
Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.
“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”
“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”
You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”
“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”
“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”
Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”
You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.
“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”
If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”
You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”
“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”
You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”
“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”
“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”
“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”
Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”
She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”
///
As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.
Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.
There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.
And then your mind goes to Jay.
You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.
A lot.
The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.
“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”
You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”
“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”
A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.
And arguably, a little too well.
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.
“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”
That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.
“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”
Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”
You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”
The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”
“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”
“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”
You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”
The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”
One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.
“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”
“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”
You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.
Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.
It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.
He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.
“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”
Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.
“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”
You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”
Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.
“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”
“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”
“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”
The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.
“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”
Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”
You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.
And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.
“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”
You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”
He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”
Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.
“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”
Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”
You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.
“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.
The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.
“I’m guessing this is yours?”
He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”
Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.
“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”
Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”
And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.
“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.
“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”
Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”
You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”
Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.
It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”
“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.
“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”
Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”
For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”
His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.
“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”
“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”
Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.
You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.
“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”
That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”
The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”
Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.
It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.
“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”
“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.
Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.
“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”
You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”
-
The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.
And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.
[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘
It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.
Fuck.
Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.
[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?
His response is instantaneous.
[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours
[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅
You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.
Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.
///
It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”
“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”
“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”
“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”
“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”
You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”
Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”
You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”
“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”
“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”
“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”
“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”
“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”
“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”
Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”
“Yeah.”
There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..
“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”
Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”
“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”
Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”
You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”
“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”
You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
///
The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.
You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.
Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.
At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.
Great.
Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.
“Need a hand?”
The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.
“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”
“Hey.”
Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.
“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”
The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.
“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.
“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”
“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”
Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”
You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”
“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.
The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.
There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.
[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight
Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.
[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.
You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?
[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged
[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!
///
Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.
“Is she alone?”
“Figures.”
The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.
“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”
“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”
Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.
“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”
You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”
Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”
“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.
“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”
“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”
She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.
“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”
The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.
“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.
Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.
“H-hi.”
Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”
Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”
Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”
“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”
Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.
“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”
“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”
“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”
“Definitely.”
A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.
From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.
“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”
“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”
“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”
Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.
“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”
“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”
Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”
His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”
You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.
“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”
“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.
“Yep.”
The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.
“Here’s to second meetings.”
“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.
You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.
Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.
“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”
You blink. “The verdict?”
Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”
“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”
Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”
“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”
“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”
“What if I am?” you challenge.
“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.
The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn��t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”
Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”
“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”
“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.
“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”
Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.
“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.
“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”
His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.
“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”
You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”
///
“Hey, you made it!”
You beam. “Hi.”
You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.
“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”
Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”
You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”
He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”
You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”
“Just promise me one thing?”
The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”
He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”
#hoseok#hoseok smut#hoseok x reader#bts smut#bts scenarios#hoseok scenarios#jhope#jung hoseok#bts#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts fic#kpop scenarios#hoseok x you#strangers to lovers!au#strangers to lovers#lia writes#gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL#my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening
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Advice
Pairing: Choi Jong Ho x Female Reader
Word Count: approximately 2.5k words
Warnings: 1920s Speakeasy! AU, Mentions of oral fixation, choking (borderline asphyxiation play), Reader is wearing a skirt, blowjob, Dom! Jongho, mentions of saliva, UNPROTECTED SEX (plastic wrap your peenie weenies), pet names, marking, spanking, Reader has a slight pain kink (partially implied), cursing/swearing, porn with a lil bit of plot... I think that's it.
Author's Note: This was interesting to write. I had this idea bouncing around in my head for a minute. Previously, I essentially put out a profile of how I wanted this AU, and it is hyperlinked for you below. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO READ IT BUT IT'S HIGHLY RECOMMENDED FOR THIS FIC! In conclusion, THIS FIC IS NSFW!!!! If you are uncomfy, please do not read! If I miss something, please tell me. Don't steal, all that ✨ jazz✨music. Drink your water and enjoy, you dirty lil harlots 😉
Intro and Masterlist ✨
Twilight Noir 🌃🌌🌆
Taglist: @shusan @yunhofingers @woowommy @joongsprincess @ceopjy
~~~~~~~~~
You are a new bartender at Twilight Noir; you just got the job a little over three days ago. You applied last week and got the call two days later.
You met one of your bosses, San, when you came for training as he was the trainer for the day. Overall did a pretty good job! He showed you how to make an Old Fashioned, Martini, and a Manhattan under a time limit.
You passed with flying colors, so San thought it was a great idea to start you off soon… Soon being tonight.
The night started off just fine, a couple Scotch on the Rocks along with some shots here and there. As the night got longer and it closed in on the cabaret performances, the drinks slowly became more complicated.
San was behind the bar with you as he handled most of the complex cocktails, which were mainly fruity along with harder drinks.
“Hey, I have to take care of something. I’ll be back in about 20 minutes. You shouldn’t have a hard time, but if you do, the recipe book is at the end of the bar.” San says as you wipe out a tumbler glass.
So here you are with a jigger in one hand, your finger following the instructional words of the recipe, and an annoyed group of clientele waiting on a liquid burning sensation to feel fuzzy tingles down their bodies.
The loud clamors of enraged customers managed to bring out the big bosses, well, at least one of them. Jongho walked around the mob, examining the spectacle that is you trying to complete some complex concoctions with three days of having a job and three hours of training. He got comfortable in one of the nearby booths, whipping out a flask of vodka.
After about 15 minutes of your hopeless floundering, Jongho huffs and removes his suit jacket, placing it on the chair with the flask under it. He walks with a strong sense of purpose and annoyance to the back of the bar to help.
“What are the orders?” He asked unamused, leaning to your ear so he could be audible over the people’s bellowing. He startled you with his warm breath on your neck and the overall presence. “What? Ummm… oh, 3 Margaritas, 4 Long Island Iced Teas, 2 Lemon Drops, and a Mai Tai,” you read aloud off the order pad as Jongho rolls up his sleeves and get to work.
You look in amazement as he mixes, shakes, and aerates the drinks and puts them in glasses with ease, slowly serving them one by one.
“Hey, grab that jigger and shaker behind the bottle. I’m only gonna say this once.” He proclaims with authority. He calls out the measurements along with each ingredient very swiftly and efficiently.
As he listed what was needed, you did it with speed and precision. It wasn’t really the easiest task. Maybe a little faster than San did, but doable, nonetheless.
------------
In less than seven minutes, everyone was satiated with their alcoholic beverages, and you were wiping the counter down and making the occasional order that you were trained in.
“What was that?” You hear the eerily calm voice of your boss, who helped you out of your pickle. “I’m sorry,” you ask in confusion. “You heard me,” he strolls slowly towards you as the late-night drinkers strolled out, meeting Hongjoong at the door to leave.
"Do you know how much money you almost cost me with that little stunt?” He questions, standing in front of you, crossing his arms – stretching the taut fabric across his upper arm.
The action made you pan down to the rest of his body. He is dressed in an all-black suit and tie with shiny Oxfords. You can tell the suit is tailored because of the way that the custom slacks cling to his muscular thighs, along with the prementioned shirt sleeves.
“Hey!” He snaps his fingers, bringing your attention back to his face. The position you two are in is pretty compromising. You are pinned against the bar edge by Jongho, pelvis to pelvis, and caged in by his muscular arms. His breath flutters across your face, starting a path of shudders down your body.
“You’re just not good at anything, are you? Taking orders, listening… How did San ever finish training you?” He says condescendingly while rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb. Your mouth reflexively opens to accept the appendage and graciously suck on it. You roll your tongue around his thumb, coating it with saliva.
His eyes darken at your reaction, and his hand clenches into a fist on the marble countertop. “So, my little cub like fingers in her mouth, huh?” Jongho says as he slowly removes his thumb, creating a spit string in its wake. You let out a soft whimper automatically. His hand does quick work to go to your neck and lightly grip it.
“I wonder what else you’d like in your mouth….” He whispered breathily to you but also to himself in curiosity. As he says that, the pressure on your neck got tighter; nothing to hurt you, but you could feel the effect.
You feel lightheaded and fluffy. Your hands are loosely draped on his arm. Your mouth is agape, eyes in the back of your head. Your thighs are firmly pressed together to give yourself some sort of friction. You feel him let go of your throat, allowing you to properly inhale and exhale. “Why don’t you show me what San actually taught you?” He said.
You should have been offended because all you did *pause* was make drinks, but there was something in his voice that said that you should listen to him.
He grabs your head by the chin and kisses you. It is slow but lustful and passionate, making your endorphins levels rise. His tongue rubs against yours, and he slightly pulls away from you to lick your bottom lip. When he lets you go completely, he slowly pushes you down onto your knees.
You continued to make eye contact as you sink to the floor. When you are stable on the ground, he kneels down, grabs your chin lightly, and moves your head to look dead in your eyes.
“Unbutton that shirt for me, cub. I want to see those titties bounce for me as you suck my cock.” He lets go of your chin aggressively and stands back up, unzipping his fly and lowering his boxer briefs to let his hard-on free. As you unbutton your blouse, you analyze what is about to go into your mouth.
Slightly longer than average, but his circumference is much thicker than anyone you have been with. You raise your hand to grip it, and your fingers do not even come around the entirety of his shaft. You give kitten licks to his tip, and he shivers.
“Don’t tease me, cub,” he says as he grips your hair in a fist to look at him, then bringing you face to face with his dick. You take little by little until you could not anymore, covering the rest with your hand. You bob your head while twisting your hand around like you had a purpose.
Jongho is now leaning over the counter, looking at those big doe eyes of yours. Thank goodness the club is closed; that would have been such a bitch to explain to a customer.
You come up to apply suction to his tip and move your hands to his balls, massaging them – causing Jongho to throw his head back and release a low guttural moan.
Jongho usually has more control than this, but the feeling he is experiencing now… he has never felt this before. He might just cum early at this rate, but he is determined to hold it more than the two minutes you have been downstairs.
All of those plans go to complete shit when you try to take him entirely and succeed. You can feel him in the back of your throat, and it takes almost all of your being to not gag around him.
Jongho is in a cloud of bliss from this, and as much as he wants to stay in this position, he grabs the sides of your head and yanks you off.
You are heaving, with your chin, exposed breasts, and black bra drenched in your saliva. Your skirt may have a couple wet spots as well, but who cares at this point? Your eyeliner or mascara (probably both) is running down your cheeks, and Jongho loves every aspect of it.
“Baby, as great as that felt, you could have done much better.” He says, grabbing your forearms and softly pulls you up to your feet – contradicting everything that went through his mind a few seconds ago.
“Damn, didn’t San teach ANYTHING?” He thinks aloud as he presses your front against the cool counter, which is now glazed with your spit.
“Why do I have to do everything myself when it involves San?” He asks as he pushes your panties to the side and sheathes himself inside of your dripping core. You drop your forehead and place your hands on the counter, bracing yourself, and he moves slowly in and out of you.
“My little cub was just waiting on me to fuck her, wasn’t she?” He punctuates that by meeting you hip to hip, all the way to the hilt, causing you to moan out from surprise. He strokes himself inside your walls with his hands on your waist, more than enough pressure to leave slight bruises on you in the morning, but it’s going to be completely worth it.
“Damn, she’s so tight.” Jongho thinks as he closes his eyes and breathes, trying not to buss so quickly. You whimpered at the irresistible stretch he’s giving you.
He leans down to your ear. “You like it when I drive myself into you like that? That tight little cunt of seems to, the way that she’s dripping all over your leg.” He questions as he gives you long, deep strokes – touching places you did not know you had. You mewl from the dangerous words being whispered in your ear.
I guess Jongho didn’t like your silence, so… “I asked you a question, cub.” He harshly grabs the front of your neck and squeezes, your mouth opening in a silent moan. “Yes, sir, I love it so much.” You airily respond.
“Tell me how much.” He demands as he kicks at your ankles to give himself more room and thrust into you deeper.
You vocalize how much you are enjoying the feeling of the pulsing veins down his length inside you, the deep strokes and his thickness stretching you out. You were rewarded with a faster pace, soft touches to your clit. You cried out due to the feather-light touch, and you feel your high coming fast, and apparently, Jongho feels the spasming of your pussy signaling that as well.
“Look at you, cub. Taking me so well,” He said as he goes to slap your ass. The sound resonates through the speakeasy. You feel tiny prickles from the impact, and it brings your climax exponentially closer. You gasp from him, spanking you again in the same spot; a definite handprint-shaped welt will develop in the morning. He begins to alternate between your left and right cheeks, and the hits do nothing but amplify your need to cum. You are shakily teetering the line of ecstasy and disappointment.
“Don’t cum yet, cub. Almost there.” He said as he massages your left side. You can feel the cool metal of the ring on his hand, soothing the now-red marks until it’s gone… until you feel a hard slap that knocks over the edge. You collapse against the counter, seeing a bright and blinding white light behind your eyes. You bite your lip to hold in the scream that ended up sounding like a loud grunt until your lip slip from your teeth, letting out an unadulterated moan. You feel shockwaves of fuzzy tingles go down your whole body. You feel like you’re floating, and you would sell yourself for one red skittle and a marble to feel like this again.
Jongho follows suit, and like yourself, it’s nothing he ever experienced before. He tightly closes his eyes and saw tiny little sparks swirling around him as he fills you up, painting your walls white.
He feels scorching fireworks of pleasure just exploding through his body. To prevent himself from collapsing on top of your drained body, he braces himself with his hand on the edge of the bar. You can feel his hot breath in pants on the back of your neck and your hair standing on end from it.
Jongho slowly pulls out of you, and you moan out from the empty feeling. Jongho puts his penis back in his slacks and returns to his office, leaving you a sticky wet mess of a cum dumpster on the counter.
~
A/N: See, I could stop here and let you knock your rocks to your own accord, but it wouldn’t be Jongho without a lil bit of aftercare. You are welcome.
~
You try to stand up on your own, but the entirety of your body feels like the equivalence of a wet soggy noodle, and your front collapses back on the marble top.
You hear a soft chuckle as Jongho returns back with a cold bottle of water, a damp washcloth, and some aloe vera. Since you are virtually immobile, Jongho flips your skirt and pulls your panties down. He wipes the mixture of your fling off your leg and any remnants from your apex. Placing the cloth on the counter, he pulls them back up and opens the aloe, swiping some in his hands. He carefully wipes it on your buttocks, and the cooling sensation along with the rings on his hand feels really nice on the marks he left. He flips your skirt back down.
Jongho lifts you up and turns you around, then proceeds to fold the washcloth in half for the clean side and pours some water on the cloth.
He begins to wipe the sticky layer of spit off of your chest and chin. You watch him with glazed-over eyes, your dopamine levels still high. He even takes the liberty of buttoning your shirt.
When he’s done, and leans down to your ear and says, “A bit of advice to know while working here: Don’t mess with my money. If you wanted dick that bad, all you had to do was ask, cub.” He leaves you there with that lasting quote. You try to figure out why he said that of all things. This event didn’t need a reminder; you’ll never forget it.
As you try to figure out why he said that, San walks around the counter and looks around his bar. “Why do you have a bottle of water when you could just get a glass, some ice, and water from the tap?”
Little did he know.
~~~~~~~~~
And that's the fic ✨ hope you enjoyed the read. Also, I had an alternate ending to this. Would you read if I wrote it? Okay bye 😁😁😁
#mingissoggywaffles#ateez#ateez smut#atz smut#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#jongho x reader#choi jongho smut#choi jongho x reader#jongho smut#dom! Jongho#jongho x y/n#chard 💕
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Christmas in July: Bonus Day 29
Another extra that goes along with Chapter 7. It’s more Christmas cookie recipes with a little drabble at the beginning. Hope you enjoy!
Alan arrives home from the mission sweaty but in high spirits. John’s stuck at Dad’s desk, finishing up formalities with the director. The smell of cooling cookies draws him back into the kitchen. He finds more than he remembers he and John making out on the counter. Odd. They look too nice to be Grandma’s or Scott’s handiwork which is promising.
He picks up one that looks to have chunks of some chocolate candy mixed in. One bite later and Alan’s spitting it out into the trash. Who thinks mint and chocolate are a good idea for a cookie?
“Alan Shepard!”
Kayo’s staring down at him from the balcony railings.
“I didn’t do it!”
“I literally watched you eat my cookies and spit it back out. It’s not that bad, yeah?”
“Maybe for a toothpaste cookie, it’s not.”
She hops down the stairs and joins her brother in the kitchen. Kayo makes a point to take a bite of one of the cookies and smile. “At least I don’t have to worry about you eating these then.”
“You want to make some more?” Alan asks. He taps the cover of Mom’s cookbook.
“Why not?”
Puppy Chow:
Ingredients:
9C Crispix or other rice square cereal
1/2C marshmallow creme or peanut butter
1/4C butter
1tsp vanilla
1C semi-sweet chocolate chips
2C powdered sugar
Instructions:
Melt chocolate chips, marshmallow creme (or peanut butter), and butter in microwave until melted and smooth. Pour over cereal in a large bowl and fold until evenly coated, being careful not to crush the chips. Put chocolate coated cereal in a paper bag while still warm and wet. Add in the powdered sugar and shake until cereal pieces are a bright wet and the chocolate coating cannot be seen. If necessary, add in more powdered sugar.
Icebox Oatmeal Cookies:
Ingredients:
1C brown sugar
1C white sugar
1C shortening
1tsp vanilla
1tsp baking soda
2 eggs
1 1/2C flour
3C oatmeal
Instructions:
Cream together sugars and shortening. Beat in eggs and vanilla. Add flour. Fold in oatmeal. Roll into log and wrap in saran wrap; chill overnight. Bake at 375F for 12-14 minutes or until golden brown.
Gingersnaps:
Ingredients:
3/4C shortening
1C sugar
1/4C molasses (light is preferred)
1 egg
2C flour
1/4tsp salt
2tsp baking soda
1tsp cinnamon
1tsp cloves
1tsp ginger
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 350F. Cream together shortening and sugar. Beat egg in a separate bowl before adding along with molasses. Beat well. Sift together dry ingredients and slowly add to mixture. Roll into small balls. Coat in plain white sugar before placing on baking sheet. Bake for 7 minutes.
Andes Mint Cookies:
Ingredients:
1/2C salter butter, softened
3/4C brown sugar
1/2C white sugar
1tsp baking soda
1tsp baking powder
2tsp vanilla
2 eggs
10 ounces Andes Crème de Menthe Baking Chips (there are prepackaged bags or can chop on your own)
2 2/3C sifted flour
Instructions:
Cream together butter, sugars, soda, baking powder, vanilla, and eggs. Stir in Andes chips. Mix in flour last. Chill for approximately 1 hour.
Preheat oven to 350F. Using a small cookie scoop (about 1 ounce), form dough ball and slightly flatten onto baking sheet. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes. Cool on pans for ~2 minutes before removing.
Lemon Cookies:
Ingredients:
1 box lemon cake mix (preferably with pudding in the powder mix)
1 container (8 ounces) Cool Whip, thawed
1 egg
1/2C powdered sugar
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 350F. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper. Combine cake mix and egg. Fold in thawed Cool Whip until combined. Dough is thick and extremely sticky. Dollup about 1 1/2T worth of dough into bowl with powdered sugar. Roll until completely coated. Place dough onto cookie sheet about 2” apart. Bake for 10-12 minutes.
New Twist Chocolate Chip Bars:
Ingredients:
Bar:
1C shortening
1/2C white sugar
1/2C brown sugar
1/4tsp baking soda
1T warm water
1tsp vanilla
2 egg yolks
2C flour
1C semi-sweet chocolate chips
Meringue:
2 egg whites
1C brown sugar
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 325F. Cream together sugars and shortening. Combine the soda and warm water. Once mixed, add to the sugar mixture. Beat in the eggs and vanilla. Once thoroughly combined, stir in the flour. Pat dough down into a 9x13” pan that has been greased and floured. Sprinkle chocolate chips on top and lightly press down into the dough.
For the meringue, beat two egg whites into stiff peaks. Gradually add in 1C brown sugar until fully incorporated. Cover the dough with the meringue and smooth out. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes.
Pineapple Pinwheels:
Ingredients:
Dough:
1C butter
1 package (8 ounces) cream cheese, softened
2C flour
Filling:
3/4C white sugar
4 1/2tsp flour
1 can (8 ounces) crushed pineapple, drained
Instructions:
Cream together cream cheese and butter. Add flour and mix well. Cover dough and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, but not overnight.
For the filling, combine sugar, flour, and pineapple in a saucepan. Cook over low heat with frequent stirring until thickened and hot. Cover filling and refrigerate until fully cooled.
Once ready to form pinwheels, remove dough from fridge and divide in half. On a lightly floured surface, roll out to a 1/8” thickness. Cut into 3x3” squares using either a knife or a pastry wheel. To form the star shape, cut into he center from the corner about 1 ¼”. Do NOT cut all the way to the center. Place 1/4tsp of the pineapple filling into the center of each cookie. Fold every other point towards the center until a pinwheel shape is achieved. Overlap the corners in the middle of the cookie, pressing lightly to seal. If dough is dry, a dab of water may be needed to seal the dough. I suggest looking up “Finnish Christmas star cookies” to get a reference for the cutting method and shape.
Bake at 375F for 8 to 10 minutes. Cool on wire racks.
M&M-chip Cookies:
Ingredients:
1C butter, softened
1/2C white sugar
1/2C brown sugar
1 egg
1tsp vanilla
2C flour
1/2tsp baking soda
1/8tsp salt
1 package (12 ounces) baking M&M’s
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 350F. Cream together butter and sugars until light and fluffy. Beat in egg and vanilla. In a separate bowl, combine flour, salt, and baking soda. Add dry ingredients to wet mixture. Add in M&M’s directly as the electric mixer is running so a few get crushed and spread evenly out. Add to cookie sheets and bake for 10 to 13 minutes. Cool on wire racks.
Top-of-the-Stove Cookies:
Ingredients:
2C sugar
1/2C milk
1/2C butter
1/4C cocoa powder
1tsp vanilla
3C quick oatmeal
1/2C coconut
Salt to taste
Instructions:
Cook sugar, milk, butter, salt, and cocoa for two minutes in a saucepan. Remove from heat. Add oatmeal, vanilla, and coconut. Drop a spoonful (around 1T) onto waxed paper to cool. Hardens quickly and is a chunky consistency, so do not fret about appearance.
#thunderbirds#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds 2015#thunderbirds fanfiction#alan tracy#kayo kyrano#christmas#christmas in july#christmas cookies#cookie recipe#recipes
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Young and Beautiful | Rudy Pankow - Part 3
Okay first of all I’m sorry it took me so long but here is part three finally. Honestly I don’t know how to feel about this because at first I wanted it to be a filler chapter and then I thought I couldn't let you hang like this so I just poured it all out. I still have some more ideas about where this might go but you guys tell me if this feels already finished to you. AND AS ALWAYS THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! for all the love and support you give, I see you all and couldn't be more thankful xxx
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Trigger warning: alcohol, swearing, nothing too smutty, a little angst and a lot of jealousy
Word count: 3,741 word (god this is so long I’m sorry)
Y/N just got the role of her lifetime, starring beside the cast of Outer Banks in the second season as JJ’s love interest. It’s a dream come true and gets even dreamier when she meets Rudy Pankow her alleged love interest. Lines start to blur between reality and film and Y/N is left wondering if taking a leap of faith is worth risking her career.
[GIF not mine credits to owner]
Days passed and filming never stopped, neither did the thought of Rudy in your mind. It was constant, the sun rose and so did your thoughts of him, the night came and so did he in your dreams. By now you were convinced that this feeling would not go away anytime soon.
Maybe some distraction would do you good.
“How about we go out tonight?” You proposed to the girls as you were lounging in your living room, painting toe-nails, scrolling through instagram and what-not.
“Like out out?” Madelyne’s face lit up as she looked up from her bright yellow nail polish and passed the same expression to Madison. You nodded with a smile.
“I’d be down,” Madison agreed and sprang up from the couch in a matter of seconds.
“Oh, this is exciting! Let me call the boys,” Madelyne exclaimed and got up, waddling weirdly with her still wet toe nails to her phone on the kitchen bar.
Your face fell for a second. That was not exactly what you had in mind. You wanted a distraction from Rudy and him dancing in a sweaty club with beautiful women wouldn’t really help your current state of emotions. But you couldn’t let the girls know that. After shooting the other day they wouldn’t shut up about how one could feel the sexual tension between the two of you and you were just happy they hadn’t seen the sex scene.
“You good?” Bailey inquired as she noticed your sour face. You were quick to plaster a fake smile on your lips.
“Yeah, I’m just tired of sitting around all the time. This will do us some good!” You headed towards the bathroom to get a shower before going out and also to have a moment to yourself to prepare for tonight.
“The boys are down as well!” You heard Maddie scream from the kitchen and then she passed by you as fast as she could to look through her wardrobe.
“Somebody is excited,” Bailey muttered beside you but joined her friend with a grin and helped her pick out something to wear.
A couple hours later you were dressed to kill and ready to go. Even though you loved the Outer Banks clothing style, it reminded you of your hometown, it was nice to doll-up every now and then. Madison was taking pictures of you three in the big mirror besides the entry when you heard a knock on the door.
Madelyn was quick to open it and you were met with five handsome men staring back at you.
Chase escaped a whistle when he took all three of you in but you noticed how his eyes stayed on Madelyn just a bit too long. You made sure to remember asking him about it later.
“Well, hot damn,” Rudy exclaimed as he entered the apartment and his eyes landed on the short dresses you were wearing.
“Eyes up here,” Madison warned him with a smile and pointed to her own brown ones.
“Not fair,” Austin gasped, clearly thinking you were playing with their feelings. Maybe you were. When Bailey had proposed to impress some folks tonight you at least had a special someone in mind. Who was to say the others didn’t have too?
Your eyes wandered over the boys outfits, all dressed up and looking incredibly handsome. Rudy sported a cream sweater and a cute little beige hat. You didn’t know why he would wear a hat to go clubbing but you knew he loved them.
“Are you ready to head out then?” Drew smiled at you in his bright yellow shirt and motioned towards the door.
You piled out the door and headed downstairs to get an uber to your favourite club.
“I’m not sure if I like you in heels, Y/N. You’re almost as tall as me,” Chase pointed out as he walked behind you and took in your much taller figure.
“You’ll just have to deal with it, I guess,” You laughed and did an immaculate pirouette on your heels, something you had practiced a thousand times in your room back home.
“Would you look at her,” Madison squealed with joy as she watched your boost of confidence and joined you by linking your hands together and strutting down the sidewalk like it was a runway.
It felt good to really feel yourself again after your uncertain emotions. Even though you noticed how a certain male’s eyes kept looking at your and your friend’s long legs, you didn’t care at the moment. You were having fun and you deserved it.
All of you split up into several cars and then you were on your way to La Push, a vibrating ambient establishment the cast had dug out last year while filming in Charleston. The girls swore that you would have the best night out ever at that particular club.
You were not disappointed as you took in the colourful lights shining on the rustic open brick walls and the retro bar in the corner. The ages of the people were mixed all through but you could clearly see that everybody was enjoying themselves.
“Drinks?” Deion asked and nodded towards an empty table next to the bar and you all headed in the direction through the crowded area of dancing bodies.
“Milady.” Rudy offered you his hand with a posh English accent as you were about to try mastering a step in your heels.
“Thank you, kind sir,” You smiled at him and put your hand in his and let him help you down. You couldn’t keep yourself from curtsying as he laughed at you playing along. His hand held yours tight in his as he led you to some barstools.
“Gin Tonic with a lemon slice for the lady?” He ordered with a questioning look in your direction once the bartender got your attention. You couldn’t believe he memorised your go-to drink, as you nodded thankfully. “And a Corona for me please,” He finished and watched the bartender tend to your order.
After he payed for both of your drinks you thanked him, almost having to scream as the music was too loud, and he grabbed your hand back in his to help you down from the stool.
“Sure thing, sugar.” He gave you that unmistakable Rudy smile and once again the butterflies in your stomach began soaring.
You had to pull yourself together. You were here to distract yourself from him not fall deeper for his charm. Although you had to admit he was not making it easy for you.
Your other friends had ordered at the table and were ready to clink glasses once you joined them.
“To a great night,” JD proposed and raised his glass.
“And to great friends,” You joined in and held up your own Gin Tonic.
“Hear, hear,” Austin agreed and the whole group cheered in joyous laughter as you brought your drinks to the middle. You greeted the familiar taste of the alcohol with open arms and enjoyed the light burning you were quite used to by now.
Once you set your glass back on the table, Bailey raised a brow at your already half empty glass and you simply shrugged your shoulders. You needed to let loose tonight.
“Dance with me,” You screamed over the music and grabbed her hand and your drink and made your way towards the dance floor.
Madison was the best dancer you knew and she proved it to you once again after some R&B music started playing. Your hips were shaking, your arms wildly flailing around and your feet shuffling over the floor as you downed your glass quickly. You already felt slightly buzzed, maybe you should have eaten more before going out.
Jonathan joined the two of you quickly, just as good a dancer as your dear curly friend, and together they stole the show. You watched in awe as they moved to the music so carelessly and were a bit jealous at their easy-going nature.
“C’mon Y/N, show me what you got!” Drew encouraged you suddenly from beside you with an outstretched hand. You slipped closer to him and swayed your hips as he twirled you around in his arms and laughed as he dipped you back. Maybe the distraction would work after all. You didn’t know for how long the both of you danced but you felt absolutely weightless.
“I’m impressed Starkey,” You admitted as he flew with you over the dance floor, not once missing the beat.
“Could say the same about you Y/L/N but I had a feeling you would be a good dancer,” He smirked and turned you around so your back was pressed against his chest and let his hands wander to your hips.
At this point you were on your third drink, a bit too intoxicated, and not quite sure if this scenario would play out well. Drew was the perfect gentleman and absolutely sweet and handsome. You liked him a lot but… But he wasn’t Rudy. His hands on your body didn’t feel like a wildfire and his scent didn’t drive you crazy and his smile did not make your head spin. You cursed yourself for these thoughts.
You looked up, your eyes roaming the club for a certain blond head of hair. You noticed Chase and Maddy dancing intimately with each other in one corner but chose to ignore it, you had a different mission.
“I’ll be right back,” You told Drew with an apologetic smile as you turned to look at him and he looked confused for a second. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”
“Be careful in here, it’s better if you don’t go by yourself,” He reminded you, always the protective type, and looked out over the club probably searching for Bailey.
“I’ll be fine,” You reassured him with a pad on the chest and slipped out of his embrace towards the restrooms.
On your way there you finally found your man of the hour. To your amusement Rudy was dancing with an elderly woman to some pop song and looked like he was having the time of his life. You felt the corners of your mouth lifting as you took in the scene.
You slipped into the restroom to freshen up as your eyes met the mirror. The carefully applied makeup from Madison was smeared under your eyes, your lipstick long gone and your hair was basically a mess. But despite all you looked happy, you looked alive. You quickly touched up your appearance and rejoined the others.
As soon as you stepped out however you were met with quite the unpleasant sight. There was a beautiful woman next to Rudy, one arm on his biceps as she leaned forwards to say something to him. It shouldn’t bother you, you knew that he was an attractive man with many qualities. But as his hand rested on her waist your throat tightened and you felt embarrassment deep in your bones. Of course he didn’t want you the same way you did. It was just acting and you were friends, it didn’t mean anything. But it had meant something, to you anyways. And that’s what you got for giving into your feelings. You watched them laughing together, inching closer to each other each second and your heart burned in pain.
You turned around stumbling to your table as you tried to suppress the tears welling in your eyes. How could you have been so stupid? It was a stupid crush nothing more.
Drew’s eyes lit up as you made your way towards his sitting figure at the table next to some of your friends. You had two choices here: Going home now and giving in to your stupid irrational feelings and ruining your night. Or doing what you were here for and distract yourself with a fucking good time. The answer came to you immediately.
“I don’t know about you guys but I was thinking about some tequila!” You proposed with a big fake smile as you looked at your friends and the others cheered in chorus.
“A round of tequila shots for the table please,” Chase told the waiter and soon enough salt, limes and shot glasses filled to the brim with the transparent liquid were brought to you.
“Cheers bitches!” You clinked glasses, licked up the salt on your hand, downed the shot of the devil’s brew and bit in the sour lime and laughed at the faces the others made after finishing their own shots.
You were having a good time tonight, even if it took killing your mind to do so. Which seemed to be the only option after another round of shots and some more Gin Tonics and you still felt like shit every time your eyes met Rudy’s figure. The girl from before was long gone but you couldn’t help but feel betrayed. How did he not see that you were obviously hooked on him?
He came back to your table were everybody was laughing and having a good time, everyone except you it seemed.
“Are you alright?” He asked and plopped down beside you, throwing his arm over the couch behind you.
“Just peachy,” You heard the slurring in your voice yourself not as clear as you wanted it to be and cringed a bit. But just because you were drunk that didn’t mean you had a problem. You were fine.
“How much did you have to drink?” He inquired concerned and you saw his forehead wrinkle. Your hand automatically reached out to brush his worry away.
“What’s it to you, sugar?” You deliberately used the nickname he had given you before and you actually saw a smirk on his face as you drew your hand away from his forehead, the sour expression gone.
“I think it’s better if I take you home,” He laughed when you fell back against the couch trying to look mad at him.
“I can take myself home, thank you very much,” You argued, your words still a bit slurred. He could take the fucking girl from before home for all you cared. He hadn’t spoken to you all night and suddenly he wanted to take care of you. That’s not how that shit worked.
“Besides,” You interrupted him as he was about to say something else, “You didn’t dance with me all night. I really wanted to dance with you,” You pouted and cursed yourself a second after you registered what slipped out your mouth. Your eyes widened and you sat back up. Maybe you had an alcohol problem after all.
“Then dance with me, sugar.” Your head whipped around as soon as you heard him. He leaned back against the couch, an easy smirk playing on his lips as he eyed your figure. He never looked sexier to you.
“Let’s go then!” You jumped from the table, a bit too fast and swaying a bit, but you had to prove something to yourself. You could easily be friends with Rudy without any sexual tension. You just had to separate him from your roles in your head.
His arm sneaked around your waist seconds after and he pulled you down towards the dance floor, making sure you didn’t miss any steps like before. The feeling of his hand around you drove you insane so you grabbed it and shove it away with a grin. You were perfectly capable of walking by yourself. He just laughed and shook his head at your swaying figure. You were not sure what exactly was so funny to him in this moment.
His hands however found yours again quickly as he held them and twirled you around carefully, pushing and pulling you every which way. You absolutely adored him but you needed distance. God, why had you willingly agreed to dance with him? Well, it had been your idea but anyways.
You were glad when a faster song by Lizzo started and you entangled yourself from him to sway your hips on your own. Not many knew it but you danced a lot better when you were drunk for some reason. You were a lot less uptight and celebrated every body part of yours with free flowing moves. Rudy obviously enjoyed your newfound confidence as he mirrored your carelessness to the beat and cheered for you. The both of you were singing along to the music, jumping up and down and shimmying back and forth, having the time of your life. At one point you stole his head and put it on yourself, convinced that you looked irresistible with it but Rudy just laughed and got it back before throwing to your table where Austin caught it with a grin.
“Have I told you how good you look tonight?” He screamed over the music as he pushed himself closer to your body. His scent invaded your space and you immediately forgot why you had wanted distance from him in the first place.
“Tell me again,” You giggled and got closer to him as well. The songs changed again, something more sultry and slower, maybe the Weeknd or Miguel you weren’t sure as your attention was directed at yet another man.
“You look absolutely radiant,” He breathed and his alcoholic breath mingled with yours that’s how close you were.
Rudy’s hands found your waist again and this time you didn’t push him away. The opposite, you rested your hands on his broad chest, feeling his fast beating heart under your right hand. He pulled you closer as you were obviously giving in to him and swayed his hips against yours, the movement making your head spin.
“Are you drunk?” You asked him. You needed him to be sober so at least one of you would remember this moment tomorrow after everything else faded away. You needed him to remember how your bodies felt pressed together in this moment. How your hearts were beating in synch to the bass rocking through you.
“Absolutely intoxicated,” He answered with a straight, sexy voice. He didn’t sound drunk to you but his words proved you different.
“Maybe we should-“ You stopped mid sentence as you pulled back and saw his hungry eyes directed at your lips. Whatever you wanted to say left your senses in that very second.
“…stop?” Rudy finished your sentence questioning but not making any moves to stop any of this, whatever this was. “I don’t ever want to stop. I just wanna spend forever getting high off what it feels like to be around you.”
Your breath caught at his words and your eyes slipped from his lips to his blue eyes, illuminated by the club lights occasionally. You saw the hunger in them, the unmistakable lust that was a hundred percent mirrored in your own y/e/c eyes.
He described perfectly what if felt like to be around him, like you were high, intoxicated by him. And that feeling, you never wanted it to end.
“I’m drunk…” You told him but let out the ‘on you’ part that definitely was a part of this sentence.
“I know, me too. And I know we shouldn’t do anything that we might regret tomorrow,” He took a deep breath and one of his hands cupped your face. “But I can’t stay away from you any longer.”
“I feel the same,” You admitted and bit your lip to keep a smile from showing on your face. But it didn’t matter as Rudy’s lips moved into a grin.
“If two people can’t stay away from each other, maybe they aren’t supposed to.” You nearly groaned at his annoying habit of always being able to say the perfect thing at the right time.
You moved closer to him, your arms slung around his neck and your hips still slowly moving to the music. Your eyelids dropped as your mouth longed for his, feeling his breath on your lips.
Unexpectedly soft his mouth landed on yours, so different from the kisses you shared on set. His lips slowly moved with yours, taking his time to get used to the feeling. And even though the heat from the other times lacked it was no less passionate. You poured every fibre of your being into kissing him and really feeling him. He tasted like tequila and forbidden dreams and if you weren’t drunk before, you definitely were now.
Rudy became more needy as the kiss went on, his lips moving faster and his hands pulling you closer against him. When his teeth caught your lower lip you were done for. Without any regard for reason you gave into him. His tongue slipped into your mouth battling with yours for dominance. Your mouths bumped clumsily against each other as you were smiling into the kiss, teeth biting here and there occasionally but you couldn’t care less. You had waited for this for too long to show any signs of hesitation. After what felt like an eternity you pulled apart, breathing heavily. Your eyes locked and it felt like ecstasy was coursing through your veins.
“There you are! We’ve been looking for you for at least an hour.” You were thrown into ice-cold water as JD’s voice pulled you back into reality. You looked at him, the rest of your friends heading towards the door. Rudy and you shuffled apart awkwardly and fixed yourself a little. Your short dress had ridden up and his hair was all over the place.
“C’mon guys, we’re leaving!” Chase shouted from afar.
Your eyes wandered to Rudy, a content smile lying on his swollen lips as he stared at the floor. His hand slipped around yours and he pulled you after him, walking backwards so he could look at you.
“Our little secret,” He said with a wink and cupped your cheek in his other hand, before pecking your lips once again secretly and then following the others outside and to the Ubers taking you back to your flats.
You were still not fully understanding what had just happened, if it was all a feverish dream caused by the alcohol. But every time you thought that this could only be in your imagination Rudy’s hand on your thigh or around your waist pulled you back into reality. This was no longer part of a role, this was real life. And you would enjoy every second of it.
Tags: @lovelymaybankk @sspidermanss @1d5sosddl @arthiriticcricket @teamnick @lieswithoutfairytales @styles-xoxo @normatural @k-k0129 @mileven-reddie @perfektionsmakel @1-800-imagines @http-cherries @golden-eroda @outofstyles13 @jj-maybank-stan @fandom-phaser @hopelesswritingxd @teenwaywardasgardian @poguecollins @jjswhore @xpastel-kawaiix @styles-edward-harry @rollinsstuff @obx-baby @masintahin @floretsoleil @ivebeenthinkingboutu @fandomxreaders @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @pookie-cleary @kiarascarreras @runway-to-my-aid @saturnspack @sunshinemadds @hucklebaefinn @baileythepenguin @spider6oy @whoreforouterbanks @diego-klaus-hargreeves
(I hope I didn’t miss anyone! If you’re not on here but would like to be send me a quick message xx)
#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks netflix#outer banks imagine#rudy pankow#rudy pankow fanfiction#rudy pankow imagine#rudy pankow x reader#rudy pankow smut#rudy pankow fic#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank fic#by poguesrforlife
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Population: Me + You
Summary: The last thing on Ryders mind was having kids. She didn’t even have a significant other, let alone a romantic interest. However when Tann proposes something to help the colonist with repopulation efforts, asking Ryder to be the forerunner of it, she wasn’t sure how to take it. But now she's got a missing Sage, a grumpy baby daddy, a convention that might change everything, oh and she has to figure out how to tell Evfra he's going to be a father!
Warning: NSFW SMUT
AO3 LINK
Chapter One
“I’m-I’m sorry can you repeat that?” Ryder sat there stunned, eyes unable to focus on the Asari doctor whose name she couldn’t remember.
Stepping closer, the doctor placed their hand on Ryder's shoulder. “You’re pregnant, congratulations.”
Ryder’s head tilted to the side, glazed eyes stared at the asari though she wasn’t exactly seeing her. “I’m...what?” She breathed, mind swirling in chaos not really able to grab on coherent thought. “Pregnant.” The asari spoke slower, softer, there was a frown marring her expression. She probably wondered why the human pathfinder wasn’t jumping for joy.
She’s gotten it wrong. Ryder clings to that thought. Because she couldn’t be pregnant. Not her. Because if she was-
Not possible.
“That's not possible.” Ryder sinks deeper into the bed, the white paper sheet crinkles under her. She takes note that the asari is young, not even having her matriarch marks yet.
“You would think,” The asari beamed. “Andromeda is full of surprises. We’re still looking into what exactly dissolved the blockers. Some think it's a bacteria, but I’ve been looking into those vaults. If they can make planets viable, just imagine what else they can make fertile!” Her excitement starts to dwindle as she studies Ryder’s pale face. “Erm, I’ll go get you a cup of water.”
“I can’t be pregnant.” Ryder slid off the table. Her feet feel light, and head lighter. Something turns in her stomach. “It’s not possible.” “Pathfinder,-” “Your tests are wrong.” She waved a hand. “I can’t be….” She shakes her head. The asari studies her. “If you need proof.” She opens the door to the hallway. “Follow me.”
Ryder stands in the mouth of the doorway, swaying. Her stomach twisted into knots. Lexi would probably say she’s in denial, some psychological trauma from her childhood. But then Lexi wouldn’t be lying to her.
“Come on.” The asari smiles, it seems false, twisted in Ryders opinion. Perhaps this was just another one of Tann’s tricks. He was the reason she was here to begin with.
He had contacted her, pestered and nagged her into this. Coming into the clinic to remove her blockers, to be a leading light for colonists to follow.
“They need comfort to know that it's safe.” Tann folded his spindly fingers, a smile stretched across his leathery skin. “It is your job to lead them down the path of the future.”
The future.
Her eyes dropped to the trashcan by the door, she just might vomit into the bag there.
“Pathfinder?” The asari dipped her head catching Ryders eye.
Lifting her chin she stepped forward into the dim hallways.
----3 weeks earlier-----
The humidity on Aya was a hell of a thing. Paradise that came with a price, already she could feel the droplets of water clinging to her skin. It wasn’t that it was hot, but rather misty. Sighing Ryder ran a hand over her deflated curls and eyed the surrounding Angara celebrating with pride. Their joy, while delightful to watch, gave her a splitting headache and rattled the teeth in her jaw from the burst of concentrated bioelectricity. This was the reason she chose to sit at the bar.
And because Evfra was currently nursing another cup of Taavum looking spiteful.
“Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating?” Ryder leans against the bar, her tall cup of Taavum, a lovely smelling angara beverage, cupped between her hands. She knows how potent this stuff can be and has no desire to get drunk tonight.
So she tilted her head down, letting the red curls cover her face as she studied the obviously displeased angara general who was hunched over his third glass of Taavum dissuading any of his soldiers from coming up and speaking with him.
“I am.” Short and concise, but his sour face made him look as if he’d been sucking on lemons and not being adored by his people over what they thought was the last Kett ground base on Voeld being defeated.
“Truly?” Ryder slides into the seat beside him, giving Roaan a small wave across the bar. “And is that true joy I hear ringing in your voice?” She puts her elbows on the counter, angling her body to look at him.
“It is...” He pauses looking at her, the dark blue of his iris look darker against the contrast of the white rofjinn wrapped and his broad shoulders. A gift from the initiative, one Evfra hadn’t enjoyed considering the small initiative logo stitched into the corner. He was likely to wear it tonight only for political gain, and destroy the offending material later.
A pity considering how handsome he looked in it.
“Hard.”
She blinks looking into his eyes and away from his physique. More than once Evfra had been a star player in some fantasies she had brewing in her subconscious. “What is hard?” Her voice is low and husky, she does not think he gets the innuendo.
“To believe this war is almost over.”
Almost
It’s been three years since she killed the Archon. In that time they’ve worked together to build alliance between their people, cultivate a culture of respect and peace, and fuck the kett up so hard they wouldn’t even think of coming back for fear of getting their asses kicked again.
“Hard to believe I slept over 600 years just to hear you bellyache about my cooking.” She tossed out, feeling a high as the slow releasing alcohol ran through her veins.
His face contorted in disgust. “Your food is bland, tasteless, and should have been used against the kett.”
“Hey now! I’ll have you know Prime Rib is a delicacy, you should be thanking me for sharing.” She huffed out a small laugh and nudged his foot beneath the counter. “Your people have a future Evfra, and it’s thanks to you.”
“Our people Ryder.” Evfra reaches over and touches her bare shoulder. She shivers at the power in the one hand that spans over half her back. “This is all possible because of you.”
She licks her lip, tapping the countertop. “And to think, in the beginning you stole all my credit-I’m kidding wipe that look off your face.” He’s not looking at her but rather something behind her.
Turning her head she surveyed the crowd of angara when her eyes landed on the odd couple drawing everyone attention.
Tilting her head to the side she watched Evfra observe the woman, who held the hand of a human male. It wouldn’t be such an odd sight except she was heavily pregnant. It seemed all the angara had taken notice. This was a rare sight considering there were delays on the repopulation efforts. Most to do with the fact that colonists wanted safety and security before starting a new family. Another part that so many families had been ripped apart by the war before.
The woman stopped and smiled at the man who touched his hand to her expansive stomach.
Ryder hummed softly and peered at Evfra’s face, noticing his eyes were slitted. He looked ready to shoot something. “Something wrong?” There was a noise of disgust that left his lips as he spoke. “Your people do not recluse during late stages of pregnancy?” He turned looking at Ryder, dragging his gaze down her face then form, settling on her stomach. Something fluttered inside her womb at the gaze.
Or it was the alcohol.
“Nah, we’re social butterflies.” She picked up her drink, sipping it, taking any excuse to not look at his face. “Not the same for your people, I’m guessing.” Now that she thinks about it she definitely never saw a pregnant angara.
At least she didn’t think so. She knew that the angara had pouches, and that pups were small.
“No.” He snarled, lips peeled back, his scar wrinkling under the expression. He turned back to the bar and downed the cup in front of him.
She waited to see if he said more he just stared at his hands. Silently brooding.
“I can’t imagine being cooped up.” Ryder swiveled in her chair grinning at the obviously happy pair making their way through the market. “I’d probably put a knife if anyone tried to cage me.”
Evfra snorted. “Like you did the Primus?” He offered.
She pursed her lips. “Wish I did more to her.” She muttered, taking a gulp of the drink. It had a heady salty taste that ended in a sweet tang.
Primus had been a Devil, far worse than the Archon since she had not desire to waste time gawking at the Remnant. She was pure evil, seeping a dark claws into Heleus seeking to erase everything but the Kett.
In the end it had been her pride that led to her demise. She had wanted to see Ryder die by her own hands, for the ‘glory of the Empire.’
But there had been no glory in her death as she choked on her own blood watching Ryder stand over her.
Taking another gulp of the drink, Abigail shook away the memory. Smacking her lips she looked at Evfra. “You ever just think about how you're getting older?” Eyes crinkle in the corner when his face delved into a sour expression.
“No.”
“L-I-A-R,” She sang angling her body towards him. “You think about it. I think about, we all think about it. Its like waking up one day going, huh my life's half over and what do I have to show for it? A whole lotta nuthin’” She slapped her palm on the table. “Sure I’m the savior of the galaxy but that jazz is worth what?” “Millions of lives.” Evfra offered, looking almost amused as she swayed in her chair.
“Exactly! And do you know how many of those lives I’ve had in my bed?” She threw her hands in the air, nearly knocking over her drink, if Evfra hadn’t grabbed it. “Not a one!” She sinks into the counter, both arms stretched out in front of her.
“Why would you want that many in your bed?” Evfra moves her cup to the other side of the bar.
“I don’t want a million dicks.” Ryder grumbled, lifting her head to glare at him. “I want one. One glorious dick to be my dick forever.”
“Perhaps you should speak with your doctor about this obsession-” He grunted and caught Ryders flailing hand as it smacked him in the chest.
She stares at her tiny hand in his massive one. Completely swallowed. She shivers at the heat radiating even through the glove.
“No one needs a Pathfinder anymore.” She murmurs looking up at him. “And what will I do then?”
They’re both silent for a moment before he sighs. “You find something else to occupy your time. Your nose is large enough to be in everyone's business.” He’d seen how she sought out even the little task to perform. Just the other day she stopped to show a recruit how to take apart a milky way gun.
“I have a beautiful nose.” She grunted looking at him, said nose wrinkled. Much to Evfra’s annoyance however her eyes began to mist over. “Why can’t anyone recognize that?” Her bottom lip jutted out starting to quiver.
Evfra cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with this situation. “Your nose is the right fit for your face.” He offered.
“Really?” Ryder squeaked looking up at him. “I thought it was too big.” She touched her face and sagged.
His hand touched her jaw, turning her to look at him. “You are perfect.”
Three words. Three simple words that came from the most unlikeliest of people.
Ryder stared at him even after he pulled his hand back and looked away. He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable from her silence or her staring.
“You're handsome.” She blurts as he starts to speak, her declaration silencing him. He turns to look at her, eyes roaming over her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “You are drunk.” He decides with a sigh. “I will call the tempest and have Jaal fetch you.”
“I’m not drunk.” Ryder pushed her thick hair back. “I’m high on liquid courage.” She smiles at him, though she is inclined to think she might be drunk when her mouth continues to spew thoughts from her brain. “I always thought you were handsome. Scar really adds to the good looks.” She nibbles her lips looking at him now, eyes tracing along the scar.
How many times had she fantasized kissing those twin lines that defined his features. Oh how she pictured nibbling them down to his lips that looked so plump that she knew they would cradle her own against them.
Ryder shuddered leaning forward. He’s studying her expression when she reaches over, laying a hand on his muscular thigh.
“If you weren’t so walled off, Evfra, I’d almost suggest we hook up.” Ryder wiggles her brows.
He lets out a soft snorting chuff, his hand grabs hers and pulls it away before it could wander up to the crux of his thighs. “I think you’ve had enough.” He rasps in a husky tone, one that makes her thighs clench together as heat floods her core. “I will walk you back to your ship.” He slides out of the seat in a smooth motion that makes her head a bit dizzy.
“No thanks,” She jerks her arm out of his grip. “I don’t….I don’t want to go back there.” She curled an arm around her waist. “It’s lonely.”
They had come to Aya for more than this celebration, she’d come to say goodbye to Jaal as he and Avale were uniting their families and starting a life together. Just a few months prior Drack had left as well to be with Kesh and her second clutch of baby Krogan. Peebee had one foot out the door, Ryder could feel everyday she was itching for more than what the Tempest was doing. She knew that their time together wasn’t forever, but watching her family drift apart little by little was harder than she expected.
Evfra was silent as she slumped down in her seat, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Let me crash at the resistance.” She grumbled.
“That isn’t something I can do.” He took hold of her arm again, and she allowed herself to be tugged out of the chair, though she misjudged the distance from her seat to the ground and landed directly into his chest with a soft ‘oomf.’
His hand settled on the back of her neck, the other holding her arm ran down to cup her hip. She looked up at him, breath caught in the back of her throat. She was pressed tightly to his chest, breast molding to the hard plains of his, nipples stiffening as she felt a knot of arousal bubbling in her stomach.
Gasping she watched his nose wiggle, eyes slitting as he bent his head. “You’re…”
She doesn’t think about it, in the future she’ll blame the alcohol running through her system, and the mix of Evfra’s heady scent, but she lunges, cutting off his words, smashing her mouth against his in a teeth clicking kiss that is more pain then pleasure.
Evfra hisses, hand on her neck tangles with her hair, pulling her head back. Her lip is busted and bleeding, eyes glazed. Ryder sucked in a breath, her last bit of dignity began to shrivel as her hazy mind grasped at the lingering sanity pointing out she just kissed Evfra De Tershaav and likely ruined any type of friendship they have built over the past 4 years.
“Evfra,” She twisted in his hold, hands pushing on his chest. “I’m-“
Her wobbly tone cut off as he bend his head, brushing his mouth against her nose, down her cheek, and ghosted over her lips. “You are too impatient, Ryder.” His husky tone sent a thrill down her spine that settled in her stomach.
She tilted her head back trying to catch his mouth. She mewled softly when he pulled away.
“Not here.” He tugged her into his side tucking her against him, chuffing softly.
He doesn’t seem to mind her wandering hands this time. In fact she can hear the faintest sound of a purr thrumming deep in his chest. She almost calls him a pussy she’s willing to stroke when he suddenly tugs her off the main road and presses her up against the wall.
Massive hands span over her hips as he dips his head towards hers. Letting out a sigh as their lips touch, he takes control keeping her head tilted with a fist in her fiery hair. He laps at the seam of her lips, but doesn’t go deeper despite her wiggling and whimpers of protest.
“I’m starting to think you enjoy torturing me.” She gasp fingers curling around the straps laying against his chest. Her body’s pressed against his, hips grinding into his front. She makes needy keens in the back of her throat.
“Are you always this impatient Ryder?” He chuckles against her skin, lips igniting a fire beneath them.
“Call me Abigail, Evfra.” She panted against his mouth. She hadn’t the will power to extract herself from those delectable lips. Oh how she pictured kissing him! The reality blew all those lusty fantasies away. She made a wanton noise in the back of her throat as he nibbled her bottom lip.
“Ahbee-gal” He purrs against her ear. The reverberating sound of his voice sends twings of pleasure down her spine, settling at her contracting core. He inhales deeply, chuckling at her reaction. “I’m going to ravish you.”
“Oh god yes!” She mewls digging her fingers into his rofjinn, tugging to bring him back to her.
He laughs, a deep throat thrum that she’s never heard before. If she had been more clear headed and less horny she would try desprately to remember the sound. Though that isn’t what is keeping her focus at the moment while ehr hands trail southward. Not that they get very far when the wall behind her suddenly disappears.
Letting out a small wail, she nearly tumbles down to her ass if Evfra hadn’t snatched her waist.
“Rude!” She huffed, craning her neck back to stare at the room behind her. Not that she can see much through the dim interior lighting. What she can see is a spare room filled with only the essentials.
Of course her mind isn’t on the surrounding area long when a hot mouth presses to her shoulder sucking the the flesh there.
“Clothing off.” She mewls hands tugging at his shirt trying to magic it off him with each tug. Why did angara clothing have so many buckles! Ryder begins to pout at the sight, muttering dark words about forbidden treasures being locked away.
Chuffing in amusement he gently extracts her hands. “Let me.” His fingers make dizzly fast work of all the buckles and clasps.
Hands free she starts work on her own clothing, while following Evfra as he tugs off his Rofjinn. Of course wanting to be naked soon as possible she attempts to take the shirt off without properly unbuttoning it first.
Ryder stumbled into the bedroom door, her arms caught up in the sleeves as she tried to rip off the blouse she wore. She could hear Evfra huffing at her. Grinning she shimmied out of her shirt and tossed it onto the floor and wiggled a brow at him.
“I would say your seduction talents needs some work.” He stated dryly folding the rofjinn and setting it aside.
Licking her bottom lip she greedily drank in the sight of him shirtless, taking in his broad chest to his tampered waist. She especially appreciated the hard muscles that moved beneath his deep blue skin. Letting out a groan she moved toward him, hands out stretched to touch his skin.
Catching her small hand by the wrist, Evfra let out a soft chuffing sound. “What happed to undressing?” He lifted her wrist and kissed the racing pulse beating beneath the skin.
“I got caught up wanting to touch this perfection.” She whispered, swallowing back the saliva that built in her mouth.
“Mmm.” He nips her skin before letting her go. “Are all humans so easily distracted or is it just you?”
She let out an indignant huff. “Oh no it’s just me when there’s a particularly inviting male….” She steps closer, hands on his stomach stroking up and down grinning as his muscles contracted at the touch. “Needing to be stroked.”
He had scars across his skin, faded blue colors, almost white. She couldn’t resist leaning in and licking the one across his ribs. He let out a shuddering purr and yanked her into his chest.
“Abigail.” Her name is a deep groan that leaves his mouth.
And then he was kissing her again. Tongue sliding against her own, tangling together as his palmed her heavy breast. The skin of his palm sends electrical current through her breast, making her nipples stiffen and pleasure rock down to the clenching of her core.
Abigail moans against his mouth, enjoying the feeling of his touch too much to even notice when it became skin to skin contact. Until he breaks their kiss to pull away the tattered remains of her bra off her body.
“Did you just he-man my bra off?” She spread her fingers against his chest, using his imposing unmoving form to steady herself. She thinks the alcohol has hit her system. She feels all warm and tingling. There’s a heat that starts in her stomach and pulses down.
“I am unsure of your word,” He presses his mouth to her throat sucking on the skin there. “But yes, I did just rip that flimsy fabric.” He licked at the hollow of her throat, paying special attention to her jumping pulse. “I will buy you another, better, one.”
“Mmm.” She tilted her head back, fuzzy brain can’t really focus on his words only on the sensation of his mouth making a path up her throat to her jaw, then his breath ghosted against her ear.
“Hold onto me.” He lifted her hands to his shoulders. And before her bogged mind could grasp his order he hefted her up, with one arm, wrapped around her ass.
Squealing she hooked her thighs around those slim hips, pressing her heated core against his side. Her eyes rolled back at the sensation of his hip brushing against the wet crux between her thighs.
Silencing her soft mewling noises he dropped her to the bed suddenly making a shriek leave her lips as she bounced against the mattress. Propping herself up on her elbows Abigail huffed at him, glaring up at his smirk. “Evf-”
Suddenly bending he grabbed the legs of her pants and yanked. Dragging them off her hips, along with her underwear. Which was left dangling of her ankle as he tossed her pants aside. They were less than flattering being the initiative issued clothing. A bland cotton cloth that as Liam described it, were ‘whitie tighties.’
If she had known the night would have gone differently she would have gotten her her red thong-
These thoughts abruptly disintegrated as Evfra lifts her ankle, looping a finger through one of the leg holes and holds the pair of plain undies up.
He drank in her scent with huffing breathes, large hands gripping the thin strip of clothing covering her soaked core. He growled as she let out a soft noise of disapproval.
With a fangy smirk he lifted the soaked cloth to his nose. “Sweeter than pairpo.” Evfra purred, licking the panties then dropping them to finish ridding himself of his own pants.
Abigail's eyes were glued to the movements, watching the fabric slide down his hips, lower and lower until Evfra was completely revealed to her.
Lips parted in surprise, she stared at his cock. It was a darker blue and violet color, speckled with white across the underside of the shaft. He was thick and similar to a human male: if you didn’t count the fluttering ridges, the tapered head and bulbous base. The thing that shocked her and had her inching up the bed was that is was writhing against his stomach as if it had a mind of its own.
Abigail didn't get to study him much before he grabbed her ankles and pulled her forward to the edge of the bed.
Kissing each ankle Evfra placed the on his elbow, spreading her wide open for him like a flower blooming in spring. His eyes glued to her flushed skin. Pupils dilated, lips curled upward, he made a low snarling sound.
Abigail flushed shifted against the bed feeling utterly vulnerable being spread before him like a feast. Which is how he was looking at her. She could even see him drag his tongue across his lower lip.
“I must look alien to you.” She whispered self-conscious of her nudity. She curled an arm over her breast and sucked on her bottom lip.
“You are….” He swallowed audibly, drawing his gaze from her pink cunt to her eyes. “Beautiful.” He purred, kneeling between her thighs. “I have never seen anything close to you.”
“I’ve been curious,” his tone has taken a raspier note. The ‘r’s of his words dragged out in a sound that makes her shiver. Warm hands drag along her thighs. Her muscles quiver in anticipation as he settled between her parted legs and inhales.
Mewling she arches into him, head tossing back and forth in frustration. She wants him to touch her-why wasn’t he touching her.
“Your kinds coupling is violent,” He strokes a hand down her skin. Petting her with the lightest touches on her stomach, hips, arms. But no where she WANTS him to touch.
There is a tiny thought that wonders at what he’s seen to make such a judgement but it’s swept away in the tidal wave of arousal beneath his gentle touches.
“Please!” Ryder keens softly her own hands trail up her body cupping the gentle slopes of her breast.
He watches her but does nothing to end her torment as he speaks with slow decisive touch’s over her skin. “Your softer than any Angara I’ve been with.” As if to emphasize this point he groped the fat of her hips. She sighs as the touch, undulating beneath him. “I will not take you as your people do.” He bends tongue drags across the divot of her hip bone up the planes of her stomach.
“Don’t care!” She cries out pinching her nipple watching him taste her skin with small licks traveling up her body. Everything throbs at the sight. She can feel herself spasm with need, a yearning to feel him slip between her thighs, to fill her to the edge of pain. To fuck her into this mattress till she can no longer move.
“Evfra!”
He smirks leaning over her. “Responsive.” He stops her hands gathering both wrist. “Much better then the vids.” He murmurs softly against the swell of her breast. She’s holding her breath, nearly vibrating with wanton need.
A small thought bubbles in the back of her mind, that she’s edging the point of no return. That this was going to be a bad idea that spirals into a pit of despair if she didn’t stop. But that little bubble popped the moment his tongue sweeps out against her pert nipple.
Crying out she arches into him, hands twist in the hold that has them. “Sensitive.” He growled lapping at the pink nub, circling it with the tip of his blunt tongue. Her toes curl at the feeling, his tongue had a texture to them and seemed to vibrate against the peak of her breast.
He nibbled down the slope of her puffy breast, switching to lavish the other with attention.
“I like how soft you are.” He growls squeezing and molding the breast to the palm of his hand. “How incredibly soft.” His mouth seals of the taunt peak, making her arch up into the sucking of his hot mouth.
He’s making a wet slurping sound while he suckles the peak of her nipple. His hand spanning her ribs moves down her side, cupping her rear that is pressed against his clavicle bone, which she’s been rutting unconsciously again.
She let out a moan as his finger slid along her cunt. He let out a rumble, seemingly surprised at how wet she was. Abandoning her breast with gentle kisses he travels down her stomach. Stopping to lavish attention to each of her small scars, freckles, and stretch marks. He grins at her as he nibbles her hip bone.
“Your scent is driving me wild.” He noses her red curls purring when she jerks against his hold. “It always drives me wild.” He lets out huffs parting her lips and stares at the pink clutch dripping with arousal. “I have longed to taste.”
“E-evfra.” Abigail wiggles in his hold, mind hazy with arousal. She mewls, trembling in anticipation. He seems to be taking his time savoring her scent that has her flushing with embarrassment. That doesn’t last long when he opens his mouth and licks along her slit with a decisive stroke.
She mewls softly, hips jerking against his mouth. His spans a hand against her stomach, keeping her in place while his tongue makes feather soft touches across her cunt. It was light and gentle touches that were driving her wildly mad.
Thighs kept spread with his shoulders, he had full control of her body. She let out a deep cry, body shuddering. “Evfra!” She grabs his sheets jerking up into his mouth, trying to grind into him.
He lets out a purr, vibrating that tongue against her clit that sends her spiralling down. Eyes rolling back as a slow building orgasm trickles into her system. Every muscle in her body quivers beneath the slow lazy licks of his tongue. Gasping, her knees fall open, hips ground up into his mouth. Rocking in time with his broad strokes.
“Evfra, Evfra evfra.” She chants feeling the burn of overstimulation but she can’t stop rocking into him, can’t stop the second orgasm building as he audibly gulps at her cream. She lets out a sharp yelp when he presses a thick, blunt, finger into her weeping entrance.
“Look at how you grasp me.” He purrs. “Greedy.” He sinks his finger deeper into her swollen, pink, clutch. Cooing at the way she grips his digit. Like a hungry mouth suckling him back in.
Moaning, her head tossed side to side as he filled her up, opening her wide with slick wet noises as he moved his finger inside of her. It had been a long dry season since she last been with a man. At the moment she couldn’t even remember it, only what Evfra was doing to her body as he shifted pulling her hips higher.
Nibbling her outer lip he thrust his finger deeper, both groaning as he did. “So soft.” He rasped. “How can any male leave this body.” His eyes met hers. “I’m going to make you sing for me.”
Singing wasn’t what she felt her throat was doing. Opera more like it as she shrieked at the powerful orgasm that made her body arch and clench. She practically bowed off the bed while her vision went dark. All the while she could feel him still working his finger deeper into her cunt while loudly licking up the cum dripping out of her.
“Stars.” He rasped looking at her flushed body and shaking limbs.
Abigail certainly felt like she saw stars as she went limp against the mattress. Her body jerked against him as he withdrew his finger. Drowsiness edged into her consciousness as she stretched languid.
Of course two orgasms later and Evfra was nowhere near done with her. He chuckled as he kissed up her body, saying hello to the girls before he was fully looming over Ryder.
“I hope you aren’t about to fall asleep.” He nudged his nose against her chin, urging her thighs to wrap around his waist.
“Mmm.” Ryder cracked an eye open suddenly far more awake as something rolled against her sensitive lips. Breath hitched when he nudged her entrance with the head of his cock.
“Oh!” SHe gasped as the odd sensation of being filled by something that wasn’t entirely human.
Thighs quivering against his hips, she attempted to roll away from the burrowing entity that was Evfra’s cock, only to feel the first set of ridges slip into her and go completely still. She was instantly melting into a puddle of pleasure as they rowed against the walls of her. Especially tickling her g-spot. Making her clench around him with a groan.
Scar wrinkled he closed his eyes holding her hips, soft a mewling noise left his throat. “Stars.” He looked down at her then, eyes slitted. “The way you grip me…” He rubbed the mark he left on her skin, breathing hard.
Drool was dribbling out of her mouth while she gazed up at Evfra, hips rolling against the thick cock. Toes curling, heels digging into his back to spur him on. But Evfra seemed determined to drive her mad. He moved in a slow pace, until he was completely sheathed within her warmth.
“Tight.” He growled against her skin, he was making many marks against her collarbone, sinking his fangs into the yielding skin. Ryders own nails were clawing at his back as she felt the bulbous base popping into her cunt.
“Evfra!” She cried so sweetly, tears leaking out of her eyes as he began to pull out of her at the same slow pace. He could feel her climax as he pushed in, feeling the way her walls clenched and pulsed, beckoning him to seed her.
How he thought of her swollen with his child, like the human he saw before. His lips peeled back in the though as he pulled her hips flush against his, sinking into her depths. A hand span up between the valley of her bouncing breast and lay over her vunerable throat.
She gasped, tilting her head back giving his hand more room as he cupped her throat, thumb stroking over her racing pulse. She murmured how she couldn’t give him another one. But she would-oh she would cum again on his cock, and he would fill her womb with his seed. And once she was limp beneath him he would slide down her body to taste their coupling, coax yet another orgasm from her.
Maybe then he would let her rest, but he would spend the night between her thighs.
“You’re a treasure.” He bent over her, hips gliding along her thighs, sticking to the steady pace. Those ridges rubbed against her walls. He can feel the tells of his own climax coming as the ridges began to row, seeking to interlock with a female angara’s grooves. They would become thicker as he climaxed, ensure that none of his seed escaped.
He watched as Abigail’s green eyes widen at the feeling, her wet lips parting with a soft ‘Oh!’ as a shudder rocks her body. She orgam’s against him, he can feel her soak him as a wordless cry escapes her. He growls bending down to capture her lips, sinking deep into her cunt as spurts of his seed coat her womb.
-----Present-----
She chewed on her nail, biting into the skin but not breaking it.
How did one tell the grumpy resistance leader that his one night stand led to a new life?
She hadn’t even seen Evfra since then. Much less spoke to him. Her hands threaded together behind her head as she let out a low sigh staring at the screen of the empty email. Twice she started typing, both started with an apology neither made past the second sentence. She wanted to be a coward, send him an email, throw the proverbial ball at him and wait.
Turning in her chair she pulled out the glossy black and white photo. Though it was hard to discern what exactly the picture was, she could make out the small pea like blobs in the photo as her children.
Multiple...
She shuddered, a sour taste filled her mouth, her stomach rolled. Taking gulping breathes she warded off the nausea. Apparently the Doctor, Y’lusia, Sara remembered her name after leaving, said she was in 10 weeks along. Funny considering she’d slept with Evfra 3 weeks ago. But Ryder hadn’t said a word, just numbly taken the photo.
Y’lusia informed her that she would be sending the file over to Lexi, who was her main doctor, but thought it best for her to set up another appointment at the clinic to see a specialist. She wouldn’t be returning to that clinic, Ryder thinks with a bitter expression.
It was a shame Lexi was attending the Nexus seminars at the moment, and Harry was acting at the Tempest replacement.
Gave her plenty of time to avoid, ignore, this predicament a little longer.
::Ryder, Director Tann wishes to speak with you.:: SAM popped up at his router, to the left of her elbow. She let out a low noise of discomfort thinking about talking to him.
“Any way I can put him off?” She leaned back into the chair, putting the ultrasound photo into a draw where it was to be forgotten for a time. ::I can tell him you are occupied with personal matters.:: SAM offered.
“Uuuugh no,” She stood and pulled her hair back into a bun. “It will only make matters worse.” She stood and looked at the Orb. “How do I look?” ::Like Abigail Ryder.::
She snorted softly. “Remind me to have Jaal teach you some sauve lessons SAM.’ She took a few breaths shaking her hands out. “Maybe I should change.” She glanced down at her sweat stained sleepshirt. She hadn’t bothered dressing, as there was no one needing her attention. They’d just gone to Eos, dropping Peebee off.
It had been a sad, and regretfully sober, party for Ryder. While Peebee bounced around the remaining tempest crew wishing them good tidings, Abigail had been preoccupied with thoughts of what her future was now going to look like.
Groaning she tugged her shirt off and ambled over to her messy wardrobe. She shifts and sniffs each article till she finds a decent one and tugs it on. It's here she glances at the mirror and frowns as the material stretches thin across her abdomen. A hand settles across the swelling between her hips.
Letting out a slow sigh she turns away from the mirror quickly and heads to the door.
She is lucky that she can play it all off on the removal of the blockers for the time being.
“Ryder,” Tann’s eyes blinked one just slower than the other. Abigail tilted her head to the side, was it old age? Perhaps he was having a silent seizure. She almost wanted to call a doctor just to end this meeting.
“Tann.” She says his name in a slow draw, blinking her eyes one just slower than the other.
“I see you have gone into the clinic, I will be setting up a meeting for you on Nexus, we’ll get this ball rolling. Addison will be in touch shortly, she’s eager to begin this campaign. The colonist need something to look towards.” His babbling seemed to cause the spiking ache behind her eyes. One that had her stomach turning. “Mmm.” Ryder replied, rubbing her temple. “I’ll be stopping at Aya first.” She had to speak with baby-babies-daddy about something.
Like the very impeding existence of being a baby daddy.
“That’s perfect! I’ll send the reporters there,” Her stomach drops as she tries to speak but Tann prattles on regardless of her protest. “Good scenery, the angara are good place to start. Being all about family as they are. It will be a good start, very good Ryder,” She wonders if good was the only vocabulary he knew when he waves his hand in a wide arch. “I will let Addison know. Tann out.”
Then he was gone, and she was left there, feeling bamboozled.
How did my life become this?
She sucked in a sharp breath a gurgle logged in the back of her throat and she stumbled away from the vid coms racing to the crosswalk where she jumped down and shoved Liam out of the way.
“Hey!” He hollered. “I have to piss.”
Ryder didn’t answer as she bent over the sink and vomited.
“Never mind.” He backed out of the bathroom and turned away.
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#Mass Effect#mass effect andromeda#mass effect evfra#evfra de tershaav#evfra x ryder#evfra#smut#unplanned pregnancy
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I do believe it would be for the best for you to have that nice day with Janus that you'd planned to have, Logan. Like you said, you shouldn't neglect your own wellbeing, and your emotional wellbeing looks like it could use the break.
(Words: 3431)
Logan let out a sigh "You're right. Worrying nonstop for Remy won't help them either way"
--
Two days later Janus had a devious smile on his lips as he sat in the passanger seat of Logan's car. His boyfriend had picked him up directly from his apartement. He hadn't said where they were going.
"Let me guess. You are taking me to the woods and surround me by your league of vampires so you can go through with your monthly blood sucking ritual” Janus guessed.
"Oh no dear. That I do with Patty the first thursday of every month" Logan replied druly.
His hands were shaking slightly as he held onto the steering wheel. Every time he looked over to his boyfriend all he could see was Remy passed out with the bruise all around their neck. He could hear every word they'd yelled. His throat tightened.
Logan hit the brake and the car slid to a stop. They were near a park. It was 9 pm and the sky had started to darken.
"We can- We can walk the rest of the way yes? Some fresh air has almost never hurt anyone and the cases where it has are very fascinating" He hoped it would distract him.
“Ah yes because I am so well known for enjoying long walks!” Jan replied sarcastically “Maybe I will if it’s with you”
Logan took out a bag from the backseat. Jan took his boyfriend's free hand and leaned his cheek against his shoulder as they went into the park.
"Is that the bag you're going to hide my body in?"
"I'm afraid the bag is too small for that"
Janus let out an incredibly dramatic gasp while gripping his chest "The rudeness!! Baffling rudeness!!!"
“Yes. I took you here to surprise you with my rudeness”
They went on a path lined with trees until they got to a hill. The trees all but surronded the hill. Aside from some teenagers playing music far away they seemed to be some of the only people in the park.
Once they got to the top Logan pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek “Close your eyes” He murmured into his ear.
His cheeks immediately turned bright red “Well darling since you will now most definitely murder me I am glad your face will be the last thing I see!”
He stood in blindness for at least 3 minutes. His chest was bubbling over with excitement. He didn’t even realize he was shimmying his shoulders to happy stim.
“Alright. My honeysnake you may open your eyes” Logan’s voice was also filled with excitement.
Janus let out a small gasp as he looked. Logan had laid out a star embroidered blanket and sat with his legs crossed on it. He held out a bottle of red wine, his boyfriend’s favorite kind of course. He’d brought several different pastries. Jam drops shaped like hearts, a lemon pie, strawberry bars, 2 cupcakes one with frosting made to look like a snake and one made to look like an owl.
“Oh....” Janus was speechless for a moment before getting a smug smirk on his lips “I see that you’re going in the route of poisoning me through romantic food”
“I am estimating that you will continue with that joke all night, yes?”
“Correct”
Janus cuddled up to his side. Logan took his hand and pressed a kiss to the top of it before handing him a glass of wine. They clinked their glasses together. The stars had started to come out.
He inspected each and every dessert in an incredibly dramatic fashion before taking a strawberry bar. As soon as he took a bite his eyes went wide.
"Darling which overworked soccer mom did you rob these from???"
Logan triumphantly pointed at himself "This overworked soccer mom. I bake even more than on a regular basis when I am stressed, and I have been experiencing a lot of stress lately"
He held onto his hand harder "My boyfriend senses did go off before. Do you want to talk about it? Or shall I simply push whoever is causing you the stress down a flight of stairs?"
"Oh I wish you would throw him down many stairs" Logan mumbled to himself. ".....It is....quite alright dear. I want this night to be a sort of distraction...for now please dont ask about it"
"My lips are sealed then...but not for the food!"
They cuddled together, ate and drank while looking at the stars. There were no clouds out. No wind. It was like the universe had wanted them to have a good night.
Janus pointed at each and every star constellation he could make out and made an intentionally horrible guess on what it was so Logan could infodump. His eyes were glimmering as he explained it. He looked so beautiful Jan wanted to kiss him endleesly.
“Okay...so..Andromeda was your favorite right?” Janus asked. He had jam on his lips from the sweets (crofters obviously) “Which one is it?”
Logan leaned close to his side and laid his hand on his boyfriend’s chin to move his head to see it “Right there. It’s brightest star is alpha andromedea”
Janus nodded along “Darling what constellation do you think suits me best?”
His expression turned incredibly serious. This was a life or death answer! “Well Patty’s favorite is ursa major aka big bear but you hmmmm Lacerta is a quite obvious once since it’s a lizard...but I think Horologium fits you better"
"Honey all I heard there was you saying ancient latin to summon a demon"
"It’s a pendulum clock! It fits you since they’re mysterious and" He gazed into his boyfriends eyes "They're also very pretty to look at"
Janus let out a pff while shoving his hand in Logan’s face to make him look away "Dork" He chuckled out as his cheeks heated up.
"Oh yes that reminds me"
He pressed a quick kiss to Jan's nose before scrambling around in his bag. He took out a long yellow plush snake. It had a black hat and a red tounge sticking out.
"This was for some reason on my doorstep a few nights ago. It reminded me of you so I thought you should have it"
Janus looked at it with wide eyes "Wait"
He took out a big blue owl plushie from his bag. It had a tiny bow and square glasses. It was incredibly fluffy for an owl.
“This was by my door as well!”
“I am sure there is a logical explanation for this! I am also sure you deserve a snake present”
They switched the plushies. Janus held the snake plushie in his hands and looked down at it’s big kind eyes. He grimaced.
“Darling...I uh already have a snake at home...and it’s totally not like that owl reminds me of you and I’ve already grown attached to having it in my bed and imagining it’s you or anything...totally not”
Logan let out a breathe of relief “Oh yes! Honey I have been hugging that snake as if it’s my second lung. So I technically don’t need it but it does help me live!”
Janus hugged the owl plushie close to his chest while Logan put the snake around his neck like a scarf. Lo looked over to his boyfriend and got a small smile on his face.
“But my sweet honeysnake you can....slither into my apartement and into my arms whenever the plushie isn’t enough” He moved his hand to his boyfriend’s chin and leaned in.
Janus flinched away, for a moment there was fear in his eyes.
“I am very sorry” Logan said “I was not intending to kiss you on your lips. I am aware of your boundaries and will not do it until you tell me you’re ready. I was going for your cheek”
“Sorry” He hid his face in the owl’s soft fur so his boyfriend wouldn’t see his embarrassment “I’m sorry”
“There is no reason to apologize here but I will accept your aplogy nonetheless”
Logan gave his boyfriend some time to gather himself, he knew how easily overwhelmed he got. He munched on some of the leftover pie. Janus sunk in on himself.
“Can I tell you something?” Janus quietly asked while fiddling with the owl’s wing to keep himself calm.
“Of course hun”
“...I contacted Picani..and I have been talking to him. It-it’s only been 3 or so sessions and they’re only like 15 or 30 minutes. It’s barely anything. But I’d thought I’d tell you”
He glanced back up to Logan and was taken aback by the big goofy grin on his lips. It was so unlike him.
“Janus that’s great!” He threw his arms around him and pulled him into a hug so sudden they both nearly tumbled over “I’m so proud of you!”
It took a moment before Janus took it in. He shone up into a smile and leaned into the hug. His nose pressed against the slope of his boyfriend’s neck and the plushies got crushed between them.
"You just sounded uncannily much like Patty" Jan chuckled out.
“I can accept that!” He took his boyfriend’s hand while stimming with the other “Is the therapy helping you progress emotionally? Of course it’s alright if you haven’t yet, asking for help is well enough”
Janus leaned away from him, just a bit so Logan’s arms were still around him but they weren’t pressed against each other. He looked away to the stars and bit the inside of his cheek.
“It’s doing wonders! I don’t have tentacles sprouting out of my back anymore” He tried to joke but it didn’t sound happy “..It is helping...genuinely..It’s just....I think my family might not have been the best. THey weren’t abusive! Not anywhere close! So I am unsure if they really were bad at all, even if Picani says so”
“Oh honey” Logan said it so very softly “They don’t have to have been abusive, or mean to treat you bad. If they hurt you they hurt you. That’s all that matters”
He nodded “Right....right. May I vent about it?”
“Of course”
He moved his hand through the owl’s fur to keep him calm “My mom would comment on what I ate constantly. Anything I ate was too much for her since I already looked disgusting-”
“You don’t. Objectivly so”
“I- I know. But I still think about it every time I eat. And I worry about eating around other people, what if they think I’m gross”
“Then they’re objectivly an asshole and I will kick my knee into their chin. Including your mother!”
“Logan no!”
“Logan yes!”
Lo knew he had succeeded when Janus let up into a laugh.
“Oh it was horrible” Janus continued through the last small chuckles “Every time she forced me to go buy clothes with her I would get panic attacks from what she said about my body and I always hid it because I was afraid of what she would say. And the one time she heard me literally sobbing in a dressing room all she said was that I was overreacting and to hurry up”
Logan was very quickly forgetting that the kicking in face thing was supposed to be a joke “Mhm yes that does indeed sound astronomically horrible yes”
Janus wiped his hand over his eye as if to rub memories away “It was....I thought so much of it was normal..I didn’t know-”
“You shouldn’t have had to think like that in the first place”
“I know....I know...They made me feel so much shame...Before I even knew...Just hearing my dad talk about...people like me on the tv made me feel shame before I even fathomed the idea that I could like men”
He let up into another laugh. The kind of laugh that came when he remembered something so bad the only thing he could do to not cry was to laugh.
“I- I’d never heard my mom say anything about it so I tried coming out to her” He chuckled “It didn’t go well! I used a youtube video because I couldn’t physically say the word gay. And then she outed me to my dad behind my back and never told me! I found out through my aunt!”
Logan was moving away from a knee kick and instead thinking of bringing a baseball bat.
“And- And I should have known because right after when- we were on vacation and my dad- I was 14 I think maybe it’s blurry- I-I saw two men hold hands in public and I’d never- I felt so happy- I wanted to run up to them- I couldn’t stop staring and then..and then my dad moved his arm around my shoulders and pointed at them and he looked into my eyes and his voice was so steady” Janus’ eyes had stopped moving, they were staring out into thin air as if he could see it happening again “He told me that what the men were doing was wrong. That We didn’t like that. That it was disgusting. And then he forced me to walk away”
Janus’ hand was shaking as he gripped onto the plushie to keep himself present. Logan gently took one of his hands and pressed a kiss to it.
“You shouldn’t have had to hear that, ever”
“It feels so good to finally tell someone” He sighed “Aside from Picani I’ve held that to myself for so so long....It’s...It’s been so many years. Shouldn’t I be over this. The shame has gotten a bit better...but it’s still there”
“Honey, For how long have you lived without being in contact with those...those wretched humans made out of boiled together pieces of maggot bones?” Logan asked in a straightforward tone.
“Around 14 months? I think? It’s all so blurry. Me before and after meeting you totally don’t feel like 2 different people or anything”
“Mhm. How many times have you gone to therapy?”
“3 times”
“No human being can be expected to recover from several years of trauma, because it is trauma, in such a short amount of time. Especially with such a small amount of professional help” Logan said in a very agressive but somehow also loving voice while smacking his hand to the top of his boyfriend’s head to pat him.
Janus looked at him. He looked at the way he was trying so hard to comfort him in his own lovely way. Looked around at the stars lighting up their date. Looked at the leftover food his boyfriend had spent time to make just to share between them, because he never saw him as disgusnting no matter what he ate.
He let up into a smile before leaning forward so his and Logan’s foreheads were pressing against each other. He intertwined their fingers. He felt his boyfriend’s breathe against his nose.
Oh he was so alive. He was holding hands with his boyfriend and he was so alive.
“I love you” Janus murmured out.
Logan shone up into a soft smile “I love you too”
He cupped Janus’ cheeks and leaned even closer. Their eyes met so perfectly. Logan could see the stars mirroring in his boyfriend’s eyes, like a small galaxy.
“And honey- Janus, you’re not perfect because none of us are and you shouldn’t feel the need to be perfect, but there is not a goddamn part of you you should ever feel ashamed of”
A warm feeling filled Janus’ chest. He leaned forward and kissed Logan.
His boyfriend’s lips were so soft against his, he closed his eyes and melted into the kiss. For a moment he didn’t even realize what he’d done, all he could think about was Logan’s warm hands against his cheeks and his lips that tasted like strawberries and coffee.
BUT OH BOY THEN JANUS REALIZED WHAT THE FUCK HE WAS DOING.
He practically flung away from Logan just as suddenly as he’d kissed him. His chest was rapidly heaving up and down as he gasped for breathe. He clasped his hand over his mouth.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t- I’m sorry- I should have asked you before- Sorry”
Logan was tracing his fingers over his lips, as if he could barely even believe what had just happened “Honey dear sweetheart beloved you” He let out a small happy sound “I think I’ve made it quite clear I was Very ready for you kissing me whenever you wanted to”
“Oh- Oh okay. Phew”
“Your lips taste like crofters! This is amazing! A scientific miracle! I have to study your lips! In multiple ways!!”
Janus let up into a light laugh “Darling there was crofters in the jam drops you made. Of course I taste like crofters”
“hmm. Seems logical. Your lips are still from here on out classified as a scientific miracle either way”
“Can we...” Janus was full on grinning as he nervously asked “Can we kiss again? Please?”
Logan didn’t answer. He simply squeezed his boyfriend’s cheeks and kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him.
He kissed so hard they both tumbled over. Janus fell down on his back and Logan used his arms to not fall down on top of him. They looked at each other for a moment, cheeks flushed, lips red, eyes wide, and smiled.
Janus tugged at his boyfriend’s tie to pull him into another kiss. His hand was in his hair, the other on his lower back. His thigh was somewhere pressed against Logan’s ribs. All he could focus on was the feeling of his lips. It felt like electricity was going up and down through his body at hyper speed.
This wasn’t exactly Logan’s first rodeo so he noticed very quickly when Janus opened his eyes and started looking unsure. He quickly moved away and laid himself down beside him. His arm was laid out across his boyfriend’s chest and their hands were still intertwined.
“Sorry. This is totally not at all a lot to take in” Janus panted out “I only need a second and a spa bath to process it”
“That is alright dear” Logan was still grinning. His cheeks started to hurt from it. He let up into happy flaps “I have been waiting for this for approximately 12 months and I will have you know it was very worth the wait. You are a natural my love. The first time I kissed Patty I fell off a swing and broke my glasses immediately afterwards”
Janus giggled at his story. He clasped his mouth shut. The giggles sounded so unlike him. They were so light and loud, but he couldn’t stop giggling. It was like millions of small butterflies were finally leaving his stomach and were transforming right into giggles.
They laughed together, their bodies pressed close together, as they looked up at the night sky. The tree tops outlined the galaxy above them.
“Darling it was a great night to take me star-gayzing” Janus chuckled out.
Logan stared at him as if he’d just thrown a watermelon into his eye “Was that a pun I heard?! I automatically despise you!”
“You love me! You said it!!” He giggled back.
“How do I keep ending up with pun makers. This is highly ridicolous!"
"Muhahaha. It is all in the plan deary!” Janus moved his arms around mysteriously “The great evil pun plan!"
“I’ll kiss you until you tell me all about it”
“Hard bargain, but I’ll surely manage”
Logan pouted while moving to press a kiss to his boyfriends collar bones. He kept littering kisses to his neck and cheek and nose until kissing him on the lips again.
He wished they weren’t in a public space so he could kiss his wonderful thighs, his stomach rolls, his shoulders, every stretch mark on his chest. So he could give him all the love he'd daydreamed about.
Janus looked at him with a sneaky grin and red cheeks "Would it be acceptable to try with tounge now?"
"Incredibly acceptabe"
He gently moved Janus so he sat on top of his hips. His hands were leaned on either side of Logan’s face.
"Are you sure I’m not too heavy?" Janus mumbled out.
"Honey Patty is about the same size as you. I am Very used to having my pelvic crushed. In multiple ways"
Janus nodded and let up into a nervous smile. Logan moved his boyfriend’s head close and parced his lips. His hand rested against his cheek.
"You're beautiful. You're so incredibly beautiful" Logan murmured before brining him in for another kiss.
#mini fic#for anyone finding this in the tags i promise after the read more its just pure romance#you dont need any context#loceit#janus sanders#logan sanders#sanders sides#its past 2 am and my eyes are blurry from tired so sorry for any grammar mistakes
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Chaser - Part Two
Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Reader, Gang Leader!Din Djarin x Bartender!Reader
Summary: No one knows his name, and no one knows his face, but the man who leads one of the most powerful gangs in New York from behind an infamous mask is still feared throughout the city. You, on the other hand, are just a waitress at the club he owns, someone who’s only just barely dipped her toe into the treacherous water of New York’s underworld. But that doesn’t stop your boss from taking a liking to you, and if you weren’t so terrified of all that his attentions could mean for you, maybe you would notice that fear isn’t the only emotion your employer stirs up within you.
Your first week as a bartender passed in a blur of shouted orders and masked faces, but by the end of it you’d comfortably settled into a rhythm. You would show up, take your forty-five minute break at 1 am, and then work until 3:30. The music and the smoke had become normal for you, and your feet had stopped aching after your fifth day on the job despite the ungodly heels you still had to wear. All in all, you were content in your new routine; no amount of spilled drinks or sticky countertops could get your spirits down, especially not with the generous tips you’d started racking up.
You were surprised, however, when that first week passed with no other sign of the Boss. His right-hand-woman, Cara, was there most nights, sitting in the circle booth with a near-constant smile on her face. Despite her good humor, though, there was no denying the bulge of her muscles beneath the suits she liked to wear, and her smirks held the promise of a dangerous edge that was far from skin-deep. You were careful around her, making sure to avoid any blunders that could get you on her bad side, but she seemed more than content with the quality of your drinks.
It was only after your two days off at the end of that first week in your new position that you saw the Boss sitting with her once more, and when the time came, you felt more than saw his presence. The people sitting in the scattered dining tables kept glancing over their shoulders towards his table, speaking in hushed whispers with heads bent low towards one another. Quill, too, seemed to act differently; there was a tense line to his shoulders that you hadn’t noticed there before, and you only made it twenty minutes into your shift before your curiosity got the best of you.
“What’s going on?” you finally asked him, setting aside the glass you’d been polishing. “What has everyone so on-edge?”
The older man didn’t so much as glance in your direction as he poured a glass of wine so dark that it resembled blood, but the way his lips pressed tighter together told you that he’d heard.
“…The Hutts are back on their bullshit,” he eventually groused. “The Boss just got back from teaching ‘em a lesson.”
An icy jolt worked its way down your spine; the Hutts were perhaps the only crime syndicate that could rival the Mandalorians, and the history between the two gangs was far from friendly. Even civilians had heard of the territory wars back in the 90’s, before the Boss had risen to his current status. Unlike the Mandalorians, though, the Hutts couldn’t go much longer than a few months before testing their boundaries, usually to their detriment.
“Was anybody hurt?” you asked in a small voice, eyes cutting towards the smoke separating your gaze from the Boss’s table.
“A few; more of them than us,” Quill muttered. “Do yourself a favor and don’t say anything about it; the Boss has everything under control.”
You nodded distractedly, almost missing it when a drunken patron leaned against the bar and demanded another bourbon neat. You couldn’t deny the pang of worry you’d felt for the man who’d taken such an interest in you, as illogical as you knew it to be. The memory of his kindness and of his true, unfiltered voice had stuck with you ever since your meeting with him, and where you had once only felt fear towards the mobster, there was now a dark curiosity that seemed to encase his presence in your mind.
And so, when a waitress leaned over the bar about an hour later to tell you that Cara had ordered one of your long islands, a traitorous sliver of excitement creeped up your spine as you nodded and started mixing her drink. She’d had at least one of the alcoholic concoctions for every shift you worked, always making it a point to praise you for your skills after you’d deliver it to her table.
“Still the best damn long island I’ve ever had,” she’d smirk. “And I’ve had a lot of ‘em in my time.”
Now, after carefully placing a sugared lemon wedge on the lip of the glass, you made your way to her booth, your heartrate picking up when you made out the first flash of shiny plastic through the haze in the air. You felt the Boss’s eyes on you as you stepped up to Cara, and your cheeks heated up as you smiled between them and the other man at their table.
“There she is,” Cara grinned, her canines flashing in the low light.
“Hello, Cara,” you greeted her, setting the drink down in front of her. “How are you all this evening?”
“Better now,” she chuckled.
Your eyes flickered to the Boss as he tilted his head towards you, his gloved hands resting on the table in front of him.
“How have you been enjoying the bar?” he asked, and your fingers twitched as you shifted on your feet.
“I like it a lot, sir,” was your immediate reply. “I can’t thank you enough for the promotion.”
“Cara’s already thanked me plenty,” he chuckled. You could hear his smile in every syllable, and it made your own lips twitch as you lowered your gaze to the ground in front of you.
“I’m glad to hear-“
You were cut off when something slammed into you from behind, and had you not been able to catch yourself on the edge of the table, you would have face-planted onto the raised platform it was situated on. As you stumbled forward, though, you felt your left ankle roll in its high heel, and a pained gasp escaped your lips as you felt something in it pop.
Turning your head, you saw the same drunk man who’d ordered a bourbon neat from you earlier on the ground, having evidently tripped into you as he’d been fumbling his way to his table. He was half-laying, half-sitting in a small puddle of that very same drink, now, and his eyes were fighting to stay open as he slurred mumbled apologies up at you.
“So s’rry, ma’am,” he groaned, trying and failing to stand up. “Wasn’t lookin’ where I w’s goin’…”
The man sitting with the Boss stood up, adjusting his cufflinks before promptly grabbing the man by the front of his shirt and hauling him to his feet.
“I think you’ve had a bit too much, don’t you?” he grunted, his lips curled downwards into a scowl. “Don’t you think it’d be wise to go home?”
The drunkard nodded, his eyes going glassy as the room span with the motion, and your head turned towards the Boss upon hearing him clear his throat.
“Gideon, make sure he finds his way out without assaulting any other members of my staff, please,” he ordered, and the drunkard visibly paled at the thin layer of ice in his tone.
“S-sir, I’m so sorry-“
“It’s…it’s ok,” you interrupted, not sure whether you were assuring the man who’d unwittingly pushed you or the Boss. “Honest mistake.”
Even still, Gideon kept one hand fisted the poor sap’s shirt as he all but dragged him towards the exit, and it was then that you noticed the swarm of eyes that had fallen upon you as the other patrons watched the scene unfold. Feeling distinctly like a bug under a microscope, you moved to straighten up, only to slump over and grip the table as you tried to put weight on your twisted ankle.
“Shit,“ you hissed from behind clenched teeth, glancing down to see that your foot was already starting to swell.
“Are you hurt?”
Upon hearing the worry in your employer’s tone, you glanced up to see him leaning towards you on his elbows.
“…I think I might have sprained my ankle,” you admitted sheepishly.
“You mean he sprained your ankle,” he corrected, starting to pull himself around to the edge of the booth. Your eyes widened as he approached you, and once again you tried to settle some of your weight onto your bad foot, though you gave up hope of walking away as searing pain shot through it once more.
“…C’mon,” he said after a beat, holding out his hand. “Let’s get you off your feet.”
You dazedly felt him maneuver your arm around his shoulders, the dark blue satin of his suit brushing against your entire left side as his woodsy cologne filled your senses. His voice was loud in your ear as he instructed you to lean against him, and you clumsily complied, hobbling on one foot as the two of you slowly began trudging towards a hallway designated for employees only.
“Quill,” he called out as you passed the bar. “Bring a bag of ice to my office.”
You turned just in time to catch the way Quill’s eyes skipped between you and the Boss; puzzlingly, there was a note of suspicion in his gaze, though you couldn’t tell which one of you it was directed towards. It was gone in a flash, though, as his tanned, weathered hands hurried to finish the drink he’d been working on before following his employer’s order.
Once you’d left behind the thumping music of the main dining room, you started recognizing the halls leading to the same office you’d stood in a week previous, and you tried your hardest to focus on anything except the man who was now deeply in your personal space.
“You don’t have to help me,” you muttered lamely, feeling a stab of sheepish guilt from pulling the Boss away from his table.
“Well, something tells me you wouldn’t be able to walk on your own right now,” he grunted. You took in the way he had to hunch his shoulders for you to be able to get your arm around him, and you felt another pang of remorse for the crick that was no doubt starting to form in his neck.
“…Thank you.”
He nodded, his mask brushing against your shoulder as he did, and you fell into another tense silence as you turned the corner to his office. After fishing a ring of keys out of his jacket pocket and unlocking the door, he once more let you use him as a crutch until you were able to sink down onto his sofa. The black leather upholstery was cool against your legs as you settled down into it, and the Boss wordlessly turned to start gathering the throw pillows resting on the armchairs across the room.
“Here,” he said, stacking them on top of one another before gesturing towards your foot. “Elevate that for a while; it’s already starting to swell.”
You did as he instructed, leaning over to unbuckle your shoe and slip it off before settling your foot onto the pillows. Your back was pressed against the armrest behind you, and you let out a quiet huff of relief as your ankle momentarily stopped throbbing.
“I’m guessing it hurts?”
He didn’t give you an opportunity to reply before turning and marching over to his desk, and you watched in the large mirror as he pulled open a drawer and produced a bottle of pills.
“Can you take acetaminophen? Or I have ibuprofen, if you’d prefer.”
“Um… I’ll take the acetaminophen,” you replied. “Thank you.”
He brought over the bottle to you, pouring two capsules into your outstretched palm.
“…I don’t have any water for you to take those with,” he commented, sounding almost apologetic. “Need me to get you some?”
“Oh, no,” you assured him, popping the pills into your mouth and swallowing to prove your point. “But thank you.”
A small laugh crackled through his modulator as he went to place the painkillers back into his desk.
“You don’t need to keep thanking me,” he remarked. “I’m supposed to take care of my employees.”
He began to say something else, but it was then that Quill opened the door of the office with a small bag of ice in one hand and a rolled up length of bandage in the other.
“So, I’m guessing the last bourbon was one too many for him, huh?” he asked you, kneeling down beside your foot and setting the ice down onto it.
You jolted at the sudden cold temperature, your teeth clenching at the spark of pain it sent radiating upwards from your swollen flesh.
“I-I guess so,” you stammered, watching as he started to unravel the bandage.
“Hm.”
Without warning, the older man started poking gently at your ankle, keeping the ice pressed to it as he instructed you to try wiggling your toes. You complied despite the discomfort the movement caused, but you audibly yelped when he tried to guide you to move your foot.
“…Looks like a sprain,” he finally declared, though you would have been able to tell him that several minutes ago. “I’m gonna wrap it for you; make sure you stay off of it for the next few days or so.”
“But I have to-“
Your words dissolved into a pained groan when he started to wrap it, and you saw the Boss’s shoulders flinch at the sound.
“Don’t manhandle her, Quill,” he sighed brusquely, but the bartender didn’t so much as glance in his direction.
“She’ll be alright,” he assured him, looking up at you from behind his bushy eyebrows. “You’re tougher than you look, right?”
Despite the discomfort (and, yes, frustration that he wasn’t being gentler with your wound), you gave him a small smile and nodded.
“’Tis but a flesh wound,” you mumbled under your breath.
A soft laugh sounded from behind you, and you turned to watch your boss in the mirror.
“Monty Python, huh?”
“The one and only,” you confirmed.
When the bandage was secured tightly, Quill once more set the ice over your ankle before hauling himself to his feet with a grunt.
“Take the next few days off, kid,” he commanded you, holding up a hand to stop you before you could protest. “I think there might be some crutches in a supply closet somewhere; wait here ‘til I get back.”
With that, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you alone with the Boss once more. The heels of his shiny black shoes clicked against the concrete as he stalked over to one of the armchairs, and he lowered himself down into it with a sigh.
“Quill is an acquired taste,” he stated, drumming his fingers across one of the armrests. “But he means well.”
“I know,” you assured him. “He’s been nothing but kind to me since I started.”
The masked man tiled his head to the side, and you could imagine him arching an eyebrow at you from behind the T-shaped plane of black plastic.
“…Well, maybe a little grumpy, but still kind.”
“Grumpy,” he nodded. “An apt description.”
Awkward silence threatened to fill the space between you, and your mind raced as it searched for something to say.
You finally settled on, “Do you like owning this club?”, and he took a second to consider his answer.
“…It’s among the more benign parts of my job, I guess,” he replied after a moment. “But I don’t have much to do with running it. Quill is more of the owner than I am, even if my name is on the deed. Do you like working here?”
It was a loaded question, but the answer to it came easily enough.
“I do,” you answered him. “It took some getting used to, but it’s far from being the worst job I’ve ever had.”
“Is it the first job of yours that involves the mafia?”
Your eyes widened at his blunt line of questioning, and you gulped.
“I don’t know if mixing drinks and waiting tables counts as involvement with the mob,” you said carefully.
“Sure it does,” he insisted. “I’m sure you see at least a dozen arrestable offenses every day you come in to work.”
Your mind flashed to the lines of white powder and bags of pot you’d seen openly sprawled out on the tables of the various booths during your time as a waitress, and most of the people in the building, staff or otherwise, had a gun or some other weapon not-so-hidden somewhere on their person.
“…It doesn’t bother me as much as it did at first,” you said eventually. “And even then, it didn’t ‘bother’ so much as ‘surprise’.”
“Hm. And did you know what you were getting into when you took the job?”
You took in a shaky breath.
“I did. Did you, when you first started?”
In his initial moment of silence, you feared that the question had been too personal, but his shoulders hadn’t tensed in anger, nor had his body language shifted from the relaxed state it was in.
“…I did,” he echoed after a moment. “I started when I was young.”
“…I’m sorry,” you breathed. “That was a…pretty personal thing to ask-“
“It’s fine,” he waved you off, crossing one of his ankles over his knee. “It’s not like I hadn’t asked you personal questions first.”
The door opened again just a few moments after that, and Quill came bustling in with a pair of metal crutches tucked under his arm.
“Finally found the damn things,” he grunted. “Had to clean some blood offa them, but they should work just fine.”
You blinked slowly, trying to search for a sign on his face that he was joking, but there was none to be seen as he leaned them against the couch.
“…Thanks.”
“’Welcome,” he nodded. “You need help gettin’ to your car?”
“I… I don’t have a car,” you said, feeling your heart start to sink in realization. “I always take the subway.”
“Aw, hell,” the old man sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Well, I guess I can-“
“Go back and tend to the bar,” the Boss suddenly interrupted. “I can drive her in mine.”
At that, Quill finally turned to level a look at the masked man that showed the same suspicion you’d seen in his eyes earlier, and for the next few seconds, the men stared each other down, communicating in a silent language only discernable to themselves.
“…It’s Saturday night, Quill,” your employer eventually reasoned. “They need your help, especially when we’re already down one bartender.” He gestured to your bad foot, and you felt a prick of guilt seep into you as you thought about how busy the staff would be without your help.
“…Fine,” the older man huffed before turning and stalking towards the door once again as he grumbled under his breath. “Nobody goddamn listens to me anymore…”
After the door was closed, the Boss’s shoulders slumped a bit from where they’d been tensed during the stand-off, and you didn’t get the chance to ask any questions before he pulled himself to his feet.
“Are you sure it won’t be a problem?” you asked him. “I know you’re probably busy-“
“Like I said, Quill runs this place more than I do. Hell, Cara probably does, too.”
He held out one of his hands, its black leather glove shining, and you hesitated before taking it, letting him help you up onto your good foot. It was a precarious balancing act on your thin heel, and the Boss rushed to hand you the crutches before you could teeter backwards onto the sofa. Bending down, he picked up your discarded heel and buckled its strap around one of your crutches, leaving it to hang there as you tentatively used them to swing yourself forward.
The plastic dug into your underarms with every step, but you started to get the hang of them as your boss slowly started guiding you through the building, down unfamiliar hallways until you found yourself standing in a cold, cavernous parking garage.
“I didn’t even know this was here,” you commented, hearing your voice bounce across the high ceilings of the space.
“Technically, it’s supposed to be for the warehouse next door,” he informed you, leading you towards a mammoth-like black Cadillac parked close by. “But for some reason, they’ve always been too intimidated to tell me not to park here.”
You snorted, following him around to the passenger side of the vehicle.
“You? Intimidating? I can’t imagine.”
His shoulders shook softly with his laughter, and you leaned against the car as he stowed your crutches in the backseat. After he opened the passenger door for you, you wondered for a moment how you were going to hoist yourself into the tall front seat, but your worries fizzled away when he gestured for you to come closer to him.
“I’m gonna help you up; is that ok?”
He waited until you nodded before setting his hands on your hips and quickly pulling you upwards, and before you knew it you were comfortably nestled against the soft leather interior. You bit your lip as your cheeks, once again, heated up from how close he’d been, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the effortless strength he’d shown as he picked you up without so much as a grunt from the effort.
The driver’s door opened, but the Boss paused before getting in.
“I forgot to ask if you needed to get anything from your locker,” he spoke, and your eyes widened as you realized that you hadn’t even thought about it, either.
“Shit, I forgot, too,” you groaned, dreading having to take another trip back inside to retrieve your purse.
“It’s ok,” he assured you. “Just, uh…give me your combination and I’ll go get whatever you need. If you’re ok with that.”
“Are you sure you don’t-“
“I don’t mind at all. Now, which locker should I be looking for?”
You described which one was yours, giving him your combination before he nodded and fished out the same key ring as before.
“I’ll be right back,” he informed you. “Go ahead and crank the car, if you want. It gets a little chilly in here at night.”
After handing you the keys, he closed the car door and headed back inside, leaving you to trail your eyes up and down the lean length of his body before he disappeared from sight. His broad shoulders tapered down into a trim waist, and there was no denying that he had exquisite taste in suits as the dark blue material of his outfit hugged his figure; not for the first time, you wondered if the face beneath his mask was just as attractive as the rest of him.
“Get ahold of yourself,” you muttered, shaking your head before jamming the key into the ignition. “None of those thoughts now, thank you very much.”
As soon as the engine turned over, you jolted as loud music suddenly started pouring through the speakers. Frantically turning down the volume, you let out a huff of laughter, shaking your head to dispel your startled shock. The familiar tune of Africa by Toto was playing from a CD he’d apparently been listening to the last time he was in the car, and you smiled, both at his choice in music and the fact that he still used CD’s.
The song was almost over by the time he rejoined you, your old, worn purse clutched in one hand as he climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Oh, I forgot I’d left the radio on; sorry about that,” he apologized, depositing your bag into your lap.
“No, it’s fine,” you assured him. “I happen to love this song.”
He hummed, throwing the car (though, really, it felt more like a tank) into reverse before accelerating out of the parking lot.
“Good taste,” he praised. “But feel free to play something else if you want.”
Letting your curiosity get the best of you, you flicked through the CD, watching as several classics from the 80’s showed up on the screen’s display.
“Never would’ve pegged you as an 80’s fan,” you chuckled.
“Why? Cuz of the music we play in the club?”
You nodded, eventually settling on Jump by Van Halen, making sure to turn the sound down so you could talk to one another without having to shout over it.
“That was Cara’s idea,” he continued. “She’s the one who made the playlist that we-“
He cut himself off, breaking at the first red light you came to before turning to you slowly.
“…I’ve just realized that I have no idea where you live,” he admitted sheepishly, and you laughed as you, too, recognized that he’d begun driving without first asking you for directions.
“It’s ok,” you assured him. “Luckily, you’re already heading in the right direction. I live in Mott Haven, off East 138th.”
A high-pitched sound came from behind his mask, and it took you a second to realize that he’d just whistled.
“That’s a bit of a ways from here,” he commented, but you couldn’t feel guilty in time before he added, “Not that I mind, just… It must be tough to commute on the subway every night from here to there.”
You shrugged, watching the lights of the city whiz by past you after the light turned green.
“You get used to it after a while,” you noted. “And I kind of like walking through the city at night. It’s peaceful, in its own way.”
“And dangerous in others.”
You smirked, fishing through your purse until your fingers closed around your taser, lifting it up so your boss could see.
“That’s why I keep this guy around,” you smiled, watching as he turned his head towards you so he could see what you were brandishing.
“Good idea,” he nodded, approval evident in his voice. An uncertainty seemed to come over him, though, as he turned back to the road, restlessly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.
“Is, uh…he the only guy you keep around?” he finally asked, and it took your brain a short second to load the meaning of his question. Your eyes widened, and you cleared your throat before answering.
“Not for lack of trying, but yeah,” you conceded. “Well, him and my cat.”
The Boss hummed, turning his blinker on with deft fingers as he navigated from one lane to the next.
“A cat, huh? What’s his name?”
You smiled, thinking about the little mongrel waiting for you at home.
“Gato,” you answered, hearing him laugh softly in response.
“Your cat’s name is Cat?”
“Well, ‘cat’ in Spanish,” you grinned. “He was already named that when I got him; the family who used to live down the hall from me had to get rid of him, and their daughter guilt-tripped me into taking him in. I hadn’t even wanted a cat in the first place, but…”
“Here you are.”
“Here I am,” you agreed. “Do you speak Spanish?”
There was wry humor in his voice when he replied.
“Enough to know what ‘gato’ means.”
From there, you navigated him to your neighborhood until, eventually, he pulled up to your large, rent-controlled apartment building.
“Well, this is me,” you sighed, opening your door before slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Thank you again for the ride; I’m sorry for any inconvenience I caused.”
“Stop apologizing,” he chided you gently. Hurriedly, he got out and walked over to your side of the car, pulling your crutches out of the backseat before helping you down onto the sidewalk, his hands once again finding your hips. “I volunteered, remember? Couldn’t just abandon Cara’s favorite bartender.”
You smiled, tilting your head up to look at where you approximated his eyes were behind the mask.
“Still. I really appreciate it, Boss,” you intoned. “Thank you.”
He nodded, turning to look between you and your building.
“You, uh…need any help getting to your apartment?”
You shook your head.
“Nah, that’s ok,” you promised. “I can just ride the elevator up.”
With one last smile, you turned and began hobbling into your building.
“Have a good night, Boss,” you called over your shoulder.
You heard a quiet, “you, too,” just before the front door closed behind you, leaving your employer standing outside, staring through the glass doors to the lobby even after you left his line of sight.
“…Remember what Quill said,” he eventually muttered to himself, turning back to climb into his car. “Remember what happened last time.”
Once he was in the driver’s seat, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that the leather squeaked against his gloves, he bowed his head, closing his eyes as images of them started floating through his mind.
“Remember what happened last time, Din.”
#star wars#din djarin x reader#din djarin imagine#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian imagine#star wars fanfiction#star wars imagine
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Fandom: Steven Universe
Rating: Teen Audiences (I have upped the rating in consideration of sensitive topics I aim to depict later on.)
Words: 6.4K~
Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.
Steven falls apart.
Chapter summary: In which history is written on the walls.
Some of my other fics have been showing up in the tags when I use the link post option, so I’m doing an experiment this time. Fingers crossed it shows! If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3
____
Chapter 12: Beta, Part 3
Having long since heeded Ruby’s advice to take a mental break, Steven sits criss-cross with his back pressed against the hodgepodge aquarium. If you ask him, this position is a two-in-one miracle, allowing him both an unobstructed view of the doorway, and sparing him from the deep rooted horror of the creepy dismantled plush still floating an aimless arc through the tank. He loves Peridot to death, but good golly, this latest meep morp is deeply unsettling. He shudders at the mere thought of its water-logged stuffing oozing out from the seams, and then— inhaling deep through his nose— steers his focus back to the phone clasped tightly between his fidgety fingers.
Back to the story, you doofus.
With nothing better to do for the moment and a hyperactive mind to satiate, he’s finally started to read the Unfamiliar Familiar fanfic that Connie sent him a link to a few days before. True to her words, it’s super, super good. Well written, great characterization, and best of all, the author keeps throwing in hints of future romance between Lisa and Archimicarus! Considering that, he’s almost surprised Connie likes this fic so much. She’s normally not much of a shipper. To be fair though, romance definitely isn’t the point of the story. Instead, it’s an AU focused on the mystery of the main character’s origins.
He can’t help but let out a sympathetic sigh as— in chapter 5– Lisa tries to calmly explain to her fellow Stonehearth Coven members that somehow her father, the revered founder of the coven, used to be a prince of the wicked Arcane Court. Most of her once-close friends don’t swallow the news well. As a result, Lisa is left alone to seek the truth of her father’s past, with no allies except her trusted familiar at her side. Lip quivering, he presses his thumb solid against his phone’s screen for a while, as if yearning to reach a healing hand beyond the barrier between fiction and reality and let the young witch know she’s not alone, that he sees and supports her. He makes a mental note to thank Connie profusely for sending along this really good fic, and presses on to the next chapter.
He’s halfway to the end of it when Peridot returns.
For someone who appeared super frazzled by Lapis’s terror-struck outbursts the last time she stood at his side, she sure seems fit as a fiddle now, walking with a slight bounce in her step as she crosses past the fence line and onto the property. At least, he assumes she is. He can’t help but immediately doubt this assessment when she spots him sitting against the inner wall of the barn with that piercing focus of hers and bounds through the doorway like a Gem fleeing the apocalypse.
“Steven, Steven, Steven, Steven!” she cries as she runs to his side, flapping her arms urgently.
Practically tossing his phone to the ground to free his hands for combat, he leaps to his feet so fast that his head grows woozy. His rose-thorned shield shimmers into tangible existence in front of his barred fist.
“What, what is it?” he exclaims, the pounding of his heart devolving into an untamable cacophony as all his darkest fears rear their ugly heads at once. “Is- is it Lapis? Did she leave anyways?”
“Uh, no…?”
“Or, or, or- are we under attack?!”
“Steven, I—“
“Who’s here for me this time?” he blurts, grabbing his friend’s shoulders. “Is it Homeworld? Jasper? The Diamonds? Tell meeee!” he whines, roughly shaking her.
“I- No one? It’s no one!” Peridot exclaims when her head finally stops jostling back and forth under his force, waves of confusion coloring her expression. “I’m… just happy to be back?”
His cheeks burn red as he drinks in her obvious statement and eventually catches his breath. He lets go of her. “O-oh,” he stammers, willing the shield floating before him to disappear into glimmers of light and desperately wishing he could do the same at this precise moment of existence. “Okay. Glad to see you back! Did, uh… did you find Lapis?”
She nods in confirmation, but visibly deflates a little at the reminder of her roommate. “Yeah, she’s perched in a tree in the woods. She said she wanted some ‘alone time,’” she emphasizes with air quotes.
Steven clasps his fingers together in front of him as he lets this news sink in, digits tussling without end for the most comfortable alignment. Bleeding heart that he is, he hates the idea of letting anyone be alone, especially after a revelation this jarring, but he must admit that he himself found some comfort in solitude the night his human half took for the beach, inert diamond in hand. If anything else, it was nice to retreat from all the noise, to allow himself the opportunity to form his own opinions about the situation. Perhaps it’ll be beneficial for her, too.
“That’s understandable,” he says, glancing out the barn door towards the forest his friend is taking refuge in. “She’s been through a lot.”
He squats to pick up his phone from the floorboards then, frowning as he notices a fresh crack on the glass at the corner of the screen. Knowing that— despite his desperate desires— there’s nothing he can do to fix this right now, he shoves it in his pocket and pushes against his knees to stand up. The bottom of his shirt catches on his arm as he does so, briefly exposing the unfamiliar facets of his rotated gem. Peridot’s brows nearly shoot above the upper rim of her visor.
“So,” she begins, nodding towards his stomach. “Your gem.”
With a tired sigh, he tugs his shirt back down. Boy, does he already know where this conversation is heading, and boy, is he sick of having to walk everyone through it. “Yup,” he replies, popping the ‘p’ and getting ready to deploy the exasperated eye roll.
“All this time everyone thought you were a hybrid quartz, but now you’re telling me…”
“...that I’m actually a dia—“
“...that I, Peridot, certified Kindergartener, a skilled specialist on every variety of Gem to ever exist, was wrong??”
“Hold on, what?”
She holds her hand over the diamond emblazoned on her chest as she passionately continues, wholly oblivious to Steven’s bemusement. “I was the brightest Gem of my cut back on Homeworld, and yet somehow I mistook a perfectly formed diamond for a quartz! Ah, hahahah!” Eyes glinting with what he can only describe as a borderline feral energy, she moves to clutch at the sides of her head, thick tufts of lemon yellow spilling out from between her fingers. “Oh, my stars. I’ve lost my touch!”
“Wait, who’s out of touch?” Ruby’s curious voice chimes from nearby. Overjoyed to see her again, Steven whirls to face her with a huge grin as she enters the barn and lounges against one of the support beams, propping a hand on her hip.
“I- it’s nothing important,” Peridot mutters, flushing as she smooths her hair back into place.
Immediately making note of the hint of shame dancing across her features, he nods. “Yeah, we were just chit-chatting! Hey, how’s Amethyst doing, though? You went to talk to her, right?”
Ruby huffs in frustration at the mention of the quartz Gem, grinding her boots against the floor so hard that for a second he’s genuinely concerned she might spark a fire under her very feet. “Tried to. But then she slashed her whip towards me and said I couldn’t help her, so ‘go away!’” she exclaims, throwing her arms in the air. “Can you believe it? I’m trying to provide some love and support, and she, she just- tells me to scram!”
“Aw, that’s not very nice,” he says with a frown, feeling his heart pulse in sympathy as she begins to pace back and forth across the wooden slats, grumbling under her breath.
“What’s her problem today, anyways?” Peridot asks, crossing her arms. “She’s usually much more amicable.”
Steven nibbles at the inside of his lip as he considers the concerning downward trajectory of Amethyst’s recent behavior. Sure, she can sometimes get snippy when she’s in a bad place, but this past week her outward attitude has built into a continuous problem. He himself has been on the receiving end of her acerbic words more than a few times, such as that afternoon they goaded each other into a duel at the Sky Arena, and that barbed retort she pierced him with at the fountain. Then there’s her fight with Pearl, her resulting emotional seclusion, today’s callous treatment of Peridot, Lapis, Ruby…
He desperately wishes he could pin all the blame for this on a single person, a single event, (because oh, wouldn’t that make his life so much easier), but when he tracks the evidence of her unrest it becomes blindingly clear that her problems began long before Rose’s betrayal was revealed.
“Well, beyond all the, uh… latest stuff, she’s been super insecure about Jasper,” he offers. Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet with his flip flops rhythmically clapping against his heels, he rummages his brain for the easiest way to explain the root of the situation. “Basically, Jasper took Amethyst out in a fight a week ago, and ever since that she’s been training super hard a whole lot. I think she’s desperate for a rematch, to prove she’s good enough.”
“Wait, wait, wait—“ The green Gem holds her hands out, palms open. “You’re telling me she’s got an inferiority complex about Jasper? With where she came from?” She lets out a raucous peel of laughter, holding her sides. “Oh Amethyst! That’s ridiculous! She was made way better than that clod.”
He squints at her inquisitively, crossing his arms as he tries to make sense of the interesting new conversation thread that just flowed out of her mouth. “But what do you mean, where she came from? Isn’t she from Homeworld, like you?”
Ruby freezes in place upon hearing this question, clear worry threaded through her creased browline. Her mouth bobs open as if she’s gearing up to answer his question, but amidst her hesitation— a timidness that, the more he thinks about it, is bizarrely out of place from the bold, confident Gem Steven’s gotten to know from all the other times Garnet’s unfused— Peridot beats her to the charge.
“Pfft, are you kidding? She emerged right here from Earth, and not even from its good kindergarten!”
He slams his hands against his cheeks, internally reeling from this revelation. “There’s other kindergartens?”
“Well, sure! There was supposed to be one in every facet. Until the rebellion put a swift end to the Diamonds’ colonization efforts, that is,” she adds quickly, adjusting her visor. “There’s Amethyst’s Prime Kindergarten in Facet Five, but there’s also the Beta Kindergarten in Facet Nine. And that piece of work is where Jasper was made… poorly!” Giggling in excitement, she rapidly shuffles her feet beneath her. The glimmer of light reflected in her eyes is bright enough to rival a distant star. “You guys have to see it!”
Steven balls up his hand at his chin, deliberating. He has to admit, after the recent emotional upheaval that he now can’t help but associate with this place, he really likes the idea of spending time somewhere other than the barn.
“Huh. Might be worth asking if she wants to check it out,” he says with a shrug. “Ruby, you in?”
The Gem in question nibbles at the corner of her lip, humming low under her breath as she considers his offer. A small bead of sweat hangs above her brow. Sporting a good natured grin, he nudges her in the side with his elbow, hoping he can cheer her up a bit.
“A little more time with your favorite Steven and Peri? Eh? Come on, you know you wanna!”
“Do it, do it!” Peridot chimes in, pumping her fists up and down.
He eagerly joins in with her rallying cry, and in no time at all they’re both circling around their friend chanting those very words. Ruby stands center with her arms crossed and her back erect, desperately trying not to break her stoic facade with a smile. It’s ultimately futile, of course. After all, no one can resist the good ol’ Universe charm forever!
“All right, fine, fine, I’ll come,” she finally acquiesces, and with a smirk, plants both her hands on her hips. “After all, someone’s gotta keep an eye on all you trouble makers!”
Now that Ruby’s officially on board, the trio ventures outside to find Amethyst, Steven and Peridot giggling as they begin to skip around the perimeter of the barn side by side, arms linked together. Brushing a few flyaway curls out of his face amidst the comforting breeze, he glances over his shoulder when they reach the first corner to make sure they’re not leaving their friend in the dust. And thankfully she’s right on their tail, but he can’t help but notice her enthusiasm seems muted. He presses his lips together in concern. Does she not want to go with them? Is he only forcing her into this? His stomach twists with guilt as he ponders this quandary further. It’s not his intention to be pushy, but maybe— between coercing Amethyst to take a break and accompany him to the barn, begging Lapis to stay, and now, nudging Ruby to come to the Kindergarten— he’s only being selfish and manipulative about all this. He thought he was bringing people together, but what if he’s wrong? What if he’s only straining relationships, tainting the already tense atmosphere, making everything worse?
(What if this is the same sort of excuse his mom Rose used to make?)
With Amethyst slashing her whip at a few old rusted cans in the clearing before them, however, there’s no time to waste drowning within what-ifs. It’s like that day he learned about Garnet’s future vision for the first time: if he lets himself get tangled up in the possibilities he’ll never truly live. He sighs under his breath, lips pursed. Of course. Garnet’s right even when she isn’t here. As much as he’d love to go crazy psychoanalyzing the impact of every solitary step he makes, at this point he’s made his choices and whatever happens, happens. It’s time to live now.
Initially, the purple Gem is rather indignant at the idea that the three of them were gossiping about her behind her back— eyes clouded with hurt— but once Peridot explains that the point of their proposed Kindergarten field trip is to check out Jasper’s no-doubt lame hole, she blinks away her bitterness and seems to eagerly climb aboard.
“Sure, why not? ‘S not like there’s anything more fun than roasting your enemies.”
“I strongly agree,” Peridot says, nodding with pride.
But before the newly expanded Shorty Squad can begin their journey, there’s something Steven really needs to address. Something that’s been troubling him all day. Nervous butterflies filling his stomach, he leans up close to his sibling-in-crime and whispers so the others don’t hear:
“Amethyst, can I talk to you for a bit before we leave?”
Her expression curdles, but thankfully, unlike in Ruby’s unfortunate account, she doesn’t make a move towards her whip to push him away. Instead, she meets him with a gaze so hardened and difficult to read that his eyes can’t help but drift away, perhaps a little intimidated by the intensity of this contact.
“Yeah, I guess,” she mutters eventually. She flicks her wrist up at the other two, gesturing for them to get a move on. “Go on ahead. We’ll catch up.”
Ruby and Peridot nod, the red Gem with a good deal more sympathy drawn on her face, (but for him or Amethyst?), and promptly set off towards the warp pad. He continues to watch until they disappear beyond the curve of the grassy hillside, both conversing comfortably. The last he hears before the warp shoots its cyan stream of light into the sky is a hooting laugh from Ruby. Despite how non-ideal this visit has been so far, he can’t help the smile stretching across his cheeks, or how his chest grows all warm and fuzzy. It’s really nice to see Peridot getting along so well with the others now. She’s made such huge strides in the past few months.
Something metallic clangs behind him. Flinching, Steven whirls around. A crumpled, abused soda can lays overturned by the side of the barn. Amethyst— arms crossed tight just under her gem and her hair more spiked and untamed than usual— glares at that poor hunk of tin as if it’s solely to blame for all of this galaxy’s problems. She moves to lean against the barn’s outer wall and peers at him expectantly, like a troubled child expecting judgement from a parental figure.
“So. You wanted to talk,” she says, tone clipped.
“I… wanted to be honest,” he mutters, threading his fingers together as he grasps for how best to word this. “Amethyst… I know you’ve been going through some hard stuff lately. I know everything that’s happened in the past few days doesn’t help. But you’ve been so inconsiderate of like, everyone here.” He swings his arm in a wide gesture towards the barn. “Peridot and Lapis didn’t deserve the way you treated them earlier.”
No response.
Steven frowns, and— a glimmer of quiet frustration bubbling deep within him, the sort he’d never admit to out loud but can’t help but harbor whenever he catches wind of small injustices that he can never seem to fix— scratches an burgeoning itch at the nape of his neck. He… oh stars, he’s going about this completely wrong, isn’t he? He’s being too confrontational. Hmm. Maybe he should try a new angle. Time for take two.
“I know you only acted that way because you’re hurting and don’t wanna think about it,” he continues, “but please, you don’t have to box your emotions away like that. I wanna help. I wanna listen.”
Slowly, gently, he moves to place a hand on her shoulder. It feels like a small victory when she doesn’t shift upon his touch.
“Believe me, you’re not alone in feeling this way.”
Again, nothing. She’s not even looking at him right now, and her jaw’s locked. Even her form feels tense under his fingers, with hard light pulsing back and forth under her illusory skin at an alarmingly unusual pace.
He sighs, gaze dropping towards the ground, towards the battered can she kicked aside earlier. “I’m worried, y’know? But... I understand if you’re not ready to talk… about Jasper, and—“
“Oh, hoh! That’s rich!” she explodes suddenly, jerking her arm away. “You seriously wanna bury your head in the sand and pretend this is just about Jasper?”
He tiptoes away from her rush of anger, eyes growing puffy. “I—“
“You wanna know how I feel, Steven? About your mom, and the whole awful mess she made? Do you really? ‘Cause I don’t have a single CLUE what I should feel anymore!”
Amethyst pauses for breath amidst her tirade, briefly locking sight with him with a glimmer of hurt reflected in her violet irises, showing that deep underneath all those twisted layers of anger and resentment she’s just another scared, abandoned Gem like him.
“Rose was everything to me, okay?” she says, throwing her palms wide for emphasis. “And all this time, I thought she was the one Crystal Gem who could be real with me. The only one who wouldn’t sugarcoat things or treat me like a baby. ‘Oh, you’re perfect the way you are, Amethyst!’” she coos in a fake, silky-sweet voice, cupping her cheeks as she openly mocks the very Gem who gave her life so he could exist. “You’re such a strong little quartz, you mean so much to me!’ Hah!”
She pauses to force a bitter laugh, clenching her hands into insufferably tight fists.
“And wasn’t that just a huge load of silt,” she spits, staring off into the rosy distance as if it were but a cruel mirage, the pain more than evident in the taut features of her face. “All along I thought she was this great, faultless person, just like you did. Except she wasn’t. She’s a liar, like everyone else. I’m worthless, just like Jasper said… and Rose knew it.”
Hesitantly, compassionately— heart breaking for the internal struggle she’s caught within, a struggle he intimately relates to— he tries once more to reach out in comfort.
“Amethyst…”
She sniffles, wiping away the leaking fluid pooling at the corners of her eyes.
(She does not, however, brush him away this time when he wraps his arms around her torso and nestles his head against her chest.)
“Just— forget it, okay?” she says after a quiet moment’s embrace, gently stepping back from his affection. “It’s whatever. Come on, Peridot and Ruby are waiting for us. Let’s dump this joint.”
__________
Ruby quietly shuffles across the loose soil, directing her eyes as low to the ground as possible to avoid having to stare at the Beta Kindergarten’s steep cliff walls. Red sandstone, Peridot proclaims a few feet away to their newly arrived sightseers, whirling in place with her arms extended wide. We’re lucky this place hasn’t blown away. Beta, am I right?
Steven manages a soft laugh at this. Amethyst continues onward with her arms crossed, unimpressed. But Ruby herself? Well, she’s the only Gem here who can say she crossed this infamous swath of sedimentary rock at its very beginning, on the day of emergence. The others may choose to laugh about how soft and unideal the soaring sandstone cliffs are, or about the uneven exit holes and curved walls, but in her opinion it’s no laughing matter. She’s seen firsthand how deadly even a so-called ‘imperfect’ Homeworld soldier can be. Even Garnet barely escaped with her gems intact.
Nervously flexing her fingers at her side as she tries not to dwell on that tragedy, she flashes her gaze upward, daring to catch even a passing glimpse of the top of the vast canyon. In an instant her vision swims with endless pillars of rusty oranges and reds.
Everything on this planet might as well tower over her without Sapphire. The once-welcoming arms of their temple? Monolithic. The vaulted ceilings of the beach house? Her eidetic memory can’t help but remind her of her early days spent marching through Homeworld’s diamond sized hallways with the rest of her squadron, patrolling the same route for well over five hundred cycles straight. The kicker? The Diamonds never had any reason to visit the shipment sector in person, anyways. The hallways were only constructed with such high ceilings to remind any Gem passing through of their rightful place under the Authority.
Over two hundred years, she adhered to their twisted rhetoric. Two hundred years of allowing everyone and everything around her to make her feel small, like she only existed for a singular purpose. Two hundred years of ignoring the tug of dissatisfaction at the core of her gem because of the misplaced belief that orderly subjugation under the Diamonds was simply the rightful pattern of existence. Then, in a beautiful bloom of light… she caught a glimpse of true freedom. And for the five thousand seven hundred years after that, Garnet didn’t feel quite so small anymore. She felt capable, confident, satisfied. Aided by Ruby’s physical strength and Sapphire’s future vision, she finally dared to challenge Homeworld’s rhetoric. She dared to live for herself.
Sighing under her breath, Ruby touches her fingers to the place in her right palm where her missing gem is, tracing the triangular shape of its illusory facets.
There’s no use arguing; Garnet was a better Crystal Gem than she can ever hope to be on her own. And now, because Rose just had to go and manipulate all of them, there’s a strong chance she’ll never get to be Garnet with her Sapphy ever again. Which means that until further notice, she’s stuck like this: short, stubby, and woefully insecure. Hah! Figures. All those years spent fighting against Homeworld’s warped notion that Gems had stagnant purposes and couldn’t grow beyond their stations, and now it’s as if she’s been dumped back at the beginning, like the past five millennia never happened.
It’s a cruel irony.
And yet it’s no crueler than this awful place: a cradle of birth manufactured as a tool of war, a Gem’s very existence leeching the life out of this once-fertile ground. The scars on the walls tell a mournful story, and as Ruby slowly trudges after her loved ones, fingers numb and fidgety in the wake of haunted disorientation, she can’t help but wish she wasn’t present for its prologue.
“Ruby…?”
Her sight trains on one of the tilted exit holes closest to ground level, on the messy silhouette it provides. She remembers this one, in fact, Garnet watched her emerge. She was a carnelian. By Homeworld’s standards, an imperfect one. That doesn’t matter, though. None of Homeworld’s lies matter. Running on nothing but the primary orders she was incubated with, (it wasn’t her fault, it was the Diamonds’, she reminds herself with a bitter growl), that Gem still emerged to poof three fellow rebels on sight. If Garnet hadn’t been so quick to retrieve their gemstones, they might have been shattered that day. Many of the others assigned to her squadron weren’t as lucky. Inhaling shakily, Ruby pauses to trace her fingers across a raised ridge in the rough, brittle sandstone.
“Hey, Ruby!” his energetic voice calls again, snapping her out of her intense focus like a fusion splitting in half.
“Aaaah!” she cries, swinging around and pulling both fists up in defense. Her hands uncoil rapidly once she catches a glimpse of that cheery yellow star.
Aw, scrap! she chides herself, repositioning her feet solid on the ground to regain some sense of internal balance. Damned startle reflex.
Unfazed, Steven grins boyishly, skipping a few steps away from the rest of the group to join her by the cliff wall. “Penny for your thoughts?”
Amethyst and Peridot are watching now too, she realizes, her brief but audible outburst thoroughly diverting their attention from their Beta Kindergarten roast session. Their quizzical glances pin her in place, her hard-light form heating in embarrassment as she struggles to organize the flow of her emotions in a way that might make sense to anyone beyond a fellow ruby. She scrunches up her nose and considers her next words carefully, attempting to strike the proper boundary between what is and isn’t appropriate to say in front of a half-human child. Stars knows Amethyst, Pearl, and herself haven’t had a great record with that over the past few days.
“Just thinkin’ about Sapphire, mostly,” she admits, offering him a saddened shrug. “Can’t seem to stop that, even half a world away.”
“Speaking of that... Why did you run after us?” Amethyst asks in a notably less cranky manner than earlier, lightly kicking at the dirt with the toes of her booties. “You never said.”
“Y’know, I…” She pauses, pressing her hand to her chin. “I’m not sure. I spent days waiting in front of the temple door. And eventually, I guess I figured that if she’s gonna make me wait no matter what, I might as well do something with myself until then. ‘Sides, I didn’t want to be lonely,” she adds, suddenly feeling just as small and vulnerable in front of all of them as her timid voice sounds.
She felt lonely enough when she ran away from home a few days ago, tears streaming in messy rivulets down her face, utterly spurning their attempts at comfort so she could pretend she was anything else than powerless amidst this nightmare. She never wanted to split, not at all. She begged Sapphire to give their relationship another chance, to believe in the strength of their love more than the fear of a diamond’s control, but tragically, her partner couldn’t hold up under the pressure. If one individual doesn’t wholeheartedly want to be Garnet, then Garnet cannot exist. They can’t synchronize. It’s simply the nature of fusion. And given her love’s avoidance, refusing to so much as leave her room to begin with, Ruby’s beginning to lose hope that their fusion will ever exist again. The crippling isolation that realization affords is the worst form of loneliness she can imagine.
Thus, the least she can do at the moment to mitigate these all-consuming feelings is to get off her butt, leave the temple, and ensure she’s surrounded by loved ones.
Peridot steeples her fingers together in front of her chest. “Well, what if you moved in with us?” she offers in a meek tone at first, her expression brightening as she continues to explain her idea. “The barn’s got plenty of room, and with two roommates you’d never have to feel lonely again!”
Steven’s dark irises practically sparkle. “Aww, Peridot, that’s super sweet of you to offer!”
“Wow, thanks,” she replies earnestly, puffing out her chest in a rush of personal pride. “I do try!”
“Yeah!” Ruby says with a hesitant laugh, scratching at the back of her neck. “That sounds amazing, but…”
“You should do it, Ruby!” he encourages, bouncing up and down on his sandaled feet amidst his excitement. “You should totally move in with them!”
“D’ya… d’ya really think so?”
“Yeah! It’d be like your very own vacation, but you’d only be a warp away!”
“And you’re sure you’d be fine with it? Y’know, with everything at home all…” She blows a juicy raspberry, jabbing her thumb down.
Amethyst serves her a big shrug. “I ain’t got a problem. Go crazy.”
“There’s no need to worry about me,” Steven says, smiling evenly. “I only want what’s best for you. And if you think not staying in the temple all the time would make you feel better, you should give it a try!”
Her concerned glance drops on the young half-Gem. Sure, it’s very compassionate of him, actively choosing to care so deeply for everyone’s emotional needs all the time, but home life for him hasn’t exactly been nurturing and hospitable lately. He already lost one of his pillars of stability when Garnet unfused. Pearl and Amethyst are at each other’s necks again. Sapphire hasn’t emerged from her room for days. Greg’s… doing whatever it is Greg does when he’s not hanging out with his son, probably keeping his distance from Gem business as usual. So with all that in mind, even if temporarily living apart from Sapphire is sure to be a beneficial move for her personal well-being and sanity, is now actually the proper time to consider a change in scenery? She purses her lips.
“I’ll think about it.”
Peridot lets out a sharp squeal of delight, apparently ecstatic about the prospect of possibly gaining a new roommate. Ruby can’t help but grin at this response. In truth, if she didn’t have to consider the well-being of Steven and the rest of the Crystal Gems, she’d say yes in a heartbeat. After all, she’s never gotten the opportunity to make many decisions on her own. Heck, she’s never gotten the opportunity to do much of anything on her own. Every time she’s unfused within the last five thousand years, her priorities have always been about what Sapphire would want, what Sapphire would do.
Well, what about Ruby, this time? Aren’t her desires important? What does she want?
Long term… she has no clue. But right now? She’d prefer to avoid dire reminders of old sorrows at all costs, thank you. So when Peridot declares that she’s 99.9% positive she’s found Jasper’s exit hole, Ruby declines to join them in their roast session. She never came here for sightseeing, anyways. She came here as their lookout. Just in case. She’s never trusted this awful tear in the ground one bit, and she’s not about to start now.
Running instinctively on old programming she was incubated with, she creeps deeper between the narrow mouth of the cliffs and summons her gauntlets at her side. Sure, so maybe they’re not as daunting in their size as Garnet’s, but they can still pack one heck of a punch. She’s still good at punching on her own, yeah? Hopefully? Stars, it’s been so long since she’s gone solo for more than a few measly hours.
And then, at the cliff base in front of her, she spots the most unusual exit hole she’s seen in this miserable canyon yet. For one, it’s low to the ground, like Amethyst’s. That fact alone is enough to set off alarm bells in her head. On top of that, its silhouette is almost comically wide and indistinct, not resembling any cut of Gem she’s aware of.
“Huh. That’s different,” she murmurs, pacing closer to investigate.
Maybe an off-color topaz could punch a hole as wide as this? But… no, no. That can’t be right. Hard light coursing wildly through her form, Ruby dissipates one of her gauntlets and runs the tips of her fingers across the crumbly inside surface of this hole. A few granules of sandstone break off upon her touch and clatter against the ground, and she jerks her hand away as if touching impossibly cold ice. Something about this feels... wrong. To be fair, she’s no expert kindergartener like Peridot, but she’s pretty confident the interior of exit holes should be smooth, with striated rock layers extending all the way back. Instead, this bizarre scar in the cliffs almost seems like—
“It’s dug out,” she says, eyes widening in dawning horror.
Which means they may not be alone in this rusted relic of a Kindergarten after all.
Her body suddenly feeling staticky and unbalanced amidst all this damning uncertainty, she tiptoes away from this mysterious feature, slowly at first, and then— as the fear begins to bubble up within her core like boiling water transformed under her power— transitioning into a sprint. We’re not alone, she repeats to herself in a harried mantra. Not alone. Not alone, we’re not alone, we’re—
Ruby’s foot catches on an uneven lip of stone jutting up from the ground, and she quickly plows headfirst into the coarse dirt, promptly ending her terror-stricken flight.
“Ow,” she whines as she recovers from this fall, rubbing at the side of her head. Not only is she a little dizzy, but her surroundings are made further hazy amidst the overbearing sunlight pounding indiscriminately upon the ground floor of this canyon. It’s enough disorientation to allow the jumbled code of her gem to begin to play tricks on her. For one, she swears she can hear this low, timid skittering, like thick claws rhythmically scraping against rock. Second, she’s half-convinced she can feel a surplus of physical vibrations radiating from the cliffs surrounding her. Squinting, she shields her eyes under a raised arm so she can begin to gain her bearings again. The blinding light recedes.
The red Gem gulps fearfully amidst the burning colors of the harsh sandstone landscape. “Wait, is that—“
She’s stumbled her way into a massive clearing, lined on all sides by stacked rows of holes physically dug into the sheer walls. Each opening is barred by a number of thick metal rods, stripped from the legs of the injectors that once incubated this hell in the first place. The thoughtful engineering imbued in this setup is impressive and terrifying all at once. Ignoring the tangible tug of hesitation at her core, she pushes herself back on her feet and creeps towards the closest cage to investigate further.
“Uh, you guys?” she calls loudly as she walks, the unusual curves of this canyon an undisputed blessing as they carry her message back to the others.
“Yeah?” Amethyst chimes back, her voice notably distant. Too distant.
“We’ve got, um—” her hand glides across one of the bent, rusty bars— “a bit of a problem here?”
“What?? Speak louder, we can’t hear you!”
Before she can even prepare to reply, a fur-covered monstrous creature leaps from the shadowy abyss of its prison and snaps its tusks at her. She yells, jerking her hand away from the cage and stumbling a few feet back. Her brow creases in abject confusion as she attempts to process what she’s seeing in front of her. It’s… it’s a corrupted Gem? This one’s most definitely a quartz; she recognizes the faceting, as well as the distinctive fur-covered quadrupedal shape of its corrupted form. But why on Earth is it being trapped within a cage in the middle of a defunct kindergarten instead of being placed in a bubble’s comforting stasis? The ground beneath her feet grows noticeably warmer as a rush of impassioned anger surges through her hard light form. She grinds her teeth together, flexing her fists at her side in the name of this cruel injustice. Caging isn’t part of Crystal Gem protocol for a reason!
Unfortunately, the horror show continues as her gaze passes over each and every cage in this clearing, finding scared, thrashing, corrupted Gems in almost all of them. Fluid builds up at the corner of her eyes as they scream and wail at her, riding a fresh wave of cacophony spurned by that Gem she spooked just a moment ago. How could anyone ever build such an awful place? And why?
Heavy, assured footfalls suddenly bounce across the acoustically encouraging slopes and surfaces of this ravine, magnified tenfold in their wake. Ruby gasps, wasting no time in ducking behind a tall rocky formation at the mouth of the clearing. That’s definitely not Amethyst or any of the others. It sounds too large, too bulky. She kneels low so she can still peek over the topmost layer of sandstone, a knot of dread coiling within as the footfalls continue to grow louder. Groaning, she clutches at her head. The unknown, the impenetrable shadow of the future… stars, it haunts her more than loneliness itself.
And then, the specter of her history reveals herself, making Ruby’s tangible form stutter in the sheer terror her appearance affords.
Jasper— her opponent, her nightmare, the Rebel Slayer herself— emerges from a plume of rising dust at the edge of this populous arena and enters the game.
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Professor Solas/Lavellan: First Impressions
Chap 1 of Inadvisable (professor Solas AU) is posted! In which Nare Lavellan has a chance run-in, literally.
Beautiful art by Nare’s creator, @elbenherzart!
~2400 words; read on AO3 instead.
- NARE -
Nare swept her hair into a tidy ponytail, then gave her face one last critical look before stepping out of her bedroom. She tapped lightly on the closed bedroom door across from her own. “Tamaris?” she called. “Are you–”
“I’m coming,” Tamaris grunted. “Give me two fucking minutes.”
Nare smirked at Tamaris’s customary early-morning surliness, then padded quietly down the hall to the living room. Athera was waiting pertly on the couch with a half-finished cup of tea in her hands, and she grinned at Nare as she approached.
“She’s awake, at least?” Athera asked.
“Awake enough,” Nare said drolly. She sat next to Athera and tucked her legs up on the couch. “Are you nervous about your first day?”
Athera laughed. “Me? Nervous? Of course not! Just a normal first day doing this job for the first time in the only Ancient Elvhen Studies program in the entire country. What’s to be nervous about?”
Nare sympathetically eyed her friend’s bright smile. She didn’t blame Athera for being nervous. Athera had been looking for a research coordinator position for years. Her new job at the University of Orlais was well-earned, in Nare’s opinion, and it was just a stroke of happy fortune that Athera was starting her job at the same time that Nare was starting her Master’s of fine arts with U of O’s prestigious — and infamous — Ancient Elvhen Studies program.
It was also serendipitous that Tamaris had decided she wanted a change of pace and place, resulting in the three girls splitting the rent on a cozy three-bedroom-plus-studio apartment close to the university.
“Don’t be nervous,” Nare said warmly. “It’s going to be great! By the end of the week, the director will be wondering how they lived without you making the whole lab twice as efficient.”
Athera grimaced and ran a hand through her hair long chestnut hair. “I don’t know. Professor Abelas did not sound that impressed with my lack of experience during the phone interview. I’m still surprised I got the job.”
“He probably thinks he can train you up fresh since you’re so-called ‘inexperienced’,” Nare said knowingly. “He’ll see how good you are in two seconds. I’m sure of it.”
Athera smiled at her. “Aw, you’re sweet. I bet you’re going to impress your new supervisor just as much when you meet with him tomorrow.”
“I hope so,” Nare said. But her belly jolted at the mention of Solas.
Professor Solas, she reminded herself. Just because she had a crush on her new supervisor’s voice didn’t mean she could start thinking of him in an informal way before they’d even met.
Oh, but he had such a gorgeous voice. The majority of her communication with Professor Solas had been via email, but the one time they’d spoken on the phone… Fenedhis, Nare couldn’t get it out of her mind. His voice was smooth and mild like a hot vanilla latte, with a curl of an Elvhen accent that made something shiver in her belly in a very visceral way. She was still surprised that she’d managed to keep her calm and sound like a reasonable and intelligent person after hearing Professor Solas’s first few words floating into her ear through the phone.
And that was just from hearing him talk about the Elvhen art stream of the program and the opportunities for exhibiting her work in the galleries in Val Royeaux. Imagine if he ever spoke to her in that beautiful smooth voice about other, less professional things…
Stop it, she scolded herself silently. She was being so stupid and horny, developing a crush on a man purely for his voice. Well, not just his voice: he was incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable, and strong-willed to the point of stubborn as well, if his academic position papers were anything to go by. But if Nare was being honest, his intelligence wasn’t the main thing that had been keeping her up at night for the past couple of months since she and Solas had last spoken on the phone.
It was stupid to be thinking such carnal things about his voice, though. She didn’t even know what he looked like — not for a lack of trying to find out, if she was perfectly honest. She’d searched online for a photo of her soon-to-be supervisor, but he didn’t have a faculty photo anywhere on the U of O website, and a Google search had been shockingly unhelpful, leaving Nare with only a blank slate to imagine along with that knicker-melting voice.
“Nare, you okay?” Athera said.
Nare jolted slightly, then smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Just thinking.”
Athera gave her a shrewd look. “Something tells me I’m not the only one who’s nervous.”
“I thought you weren’t nervous,” Nare teased.
Athera grinned, but Tamaris’s grumpy voice interrupted before Athera could reply. “You guys have nothing to be nervous about. You’re going to impress the shit out of everyone. Now let’s go get some coffee already.” She wandered over to the door and started jamming her feet into her scuffed black motorcycle boots.
Nare exchanged a smirk with Athera, then popped up from the couch. “Good morning, lethallan,” she crooned.
Athera giggled and hugged Tamaris’s arm. “Good morning,” she sing-songed.
Tamaris groaned. “Fuck off, both of you. I’m only awake this early because I have a client in an hour.”
“Wait, is it already nine?” Athera said in alarm. She checked her watch, then squeaked. “Oh shoot! Oh shoot, I’m supposed to meet Abelas at the office in fifteen minutes!” She shoved her feet onto a pair of flats and grabbed her bag, then flung open the door. “Bye! Have a good one!” she yelled, and she bolted down the stairs.
Nare smiled at Tamaris. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”
“Lucky you,” Tamaris drawled. “You get to suffer my morning-gremlin attitude all alone.”
Nare chuckled, and they made their way down the stairs at a more measured pace and wandered toward their favourite café at the end of the block.
It was a perfect crisp early-September day. The sun was a lovely warm wash of light, and the air was fresh and cool without being cold. The leaves hadn’t started changing colours yet, but the quality of their verdancy was starting to shift from the lush springlike undertones of blue to the more autumn-like undertones of yellow. When Nare pointed this out to Tamaris, Tamaris huffed in amusement.
“That’s such an artist-y thing to say,” she said.
Nare gave her a chiding look. “You say that like you aren’t an artist yourself.” She pointedly eyed the delicate vallaslin that curled around Tamaris’s left eye — vallaslin that Tamaris had carefully tapped into her own skin, and the same skills which had imbued Nare and Athera with their vallaslin as well.
“I don’t often work with colour, though,” Tamaris said.
“Isn’t your client this morning for a coloured tattoo?”
“Yeah, but that’s different than painting,” Tamaris pointed out.
“Your tattoo work is amazing, though,” Nare said.
Tamaris smirked. “Fine. We’re both amazing artists with mind-blowing skills. Are you going to buy my coffee for me because I’m so awesome?”
“I’m the student here,” Nare said with a grin. “You should be buying me coffee.”
Tamaris tsked. “Fine. Just this once though, you leech.” She pulled open the café door and gestured sarcastically for Nare to enter before her.
Nare chuckled and slid into the café. They placed their orders together, then sat at a sunny table to enjoy their coffee and fresh scones — vegan blueberry for Nare, and lemon-glazed for Tamaris.
Nare took the lid off of her cup and blew on her coffee. “So you’re coming to the start-of-year mixer tonight, right?”
Tamaris slumped in her seat and shoved a hand through her lush midnight curls. “Explain again why you want me to come to this mixer thing. I’m not a student.”
“It doesn’t matter that you’re not a student,” Nare said. In truth, she just wanted to get Tamaris out of the apartment before she started forming roots.
“It kind of does,” Tamaris said flatly. “It’s happening at the campus bar.”
“Lots of non-students go to the campus bar,” Nare pointed out. “It’s a nice bar.”
Tamaris grunted. Nare leaned toward her slightly. “Come on, Tam,” she wheedled. “Come to the mixer. Athera’s coming.”
“She works at the university now,” Tamaris pointed out. “It makes sense for her to go.”
Nare wilted. “What else are you going to do if you stay home?”
Tamaris’s reply was prompt. “I’ll rewatch The Archdemon Rises 3 for the fifth time and paint my nails.”
Nare declined to mention that Tamaris’s eggplant-purple manicure was still intact since she’d last done her nails two days ago. Instead, she widened her eyes pleadingly. “Please come? We’ll make a girls’ night of it. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
Tamaris eyed her stonily for a moment, then sighed. “Ugh, you and your baby blues. Fine, I’ll come.”
Nare beamed at her and took a bite of her scone. A leisurely half-hour later, they stepped out of the café.
Tamaris stretched her arms over her head. “All right, I’m headed home,” she said with a yawn. “You sure you don’t want to wait until tomorrow so we can go to that museum exhibit together?”
Nare shook her head. “I want to see it before my meeting with my supervisor tomorrow.”
Tamaris smirked. “Hoping to impress him with your up-to-date knowledge of the local art scene, huh?”
Nare poked her playfully. “Yes, okay? I want to make a good first impression.”
“You’ll be fine,” Tamaris said. “You always make a good first impression.”
Tamaris’s tone was dry, and Nare gazed fondly at her seemingly standoffish friend. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “I’ll see you later.”
Tamaris nodded and headed back to the apartment, and Nare turned in the opposite direction toward the modern art museum. She pulled her phone out of her purse and tapped open her browser to check the price of tickets for the special neo-Avvar exhibit; she was fairly sure she’d get a discounted admission with her student ID, but some of the museum’s special exhibits were even free for students, and Nare couldn’t remember if—
She suddenly slammed right into someone.
She stumbled back, then squeaked in alarm as she tripped over an uneven crack in the sidewalk. Her phone dropped from her fingers, and she grabbed for it even as she tried to find her footing, oh no oh shit she was going to fall down–
A strong pair of hands grabbed her arms, and Nare gasped as she regained her balance. “Shit,” she blurted. “I’m so sorry, I – my phone, I was distracted…”
“The fault is mine. I apologize.”
A heated ripple of recognition spilled down her spine. That voice. She knew that voice. She’d been replaying that voice in her head for months and wondering what the person who owned that voice looked like: how tall he was, how big his hands were, what his lips looked like shaped around the liquids vowels of that divine Arlathani accent…
Lightheaded with disbelief, her heart in her throat, Nare lifted her eyes to his face.
Her breath left her in a punch of shock. Gorgeous. He was gorgeous. An impeccably shaven head, a mere hint of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes which put him somewhere in his late 30s or early 40s, lush lips with a perfect cupid’s bow, a delicate divot in his chin and a jawline sharp enough to cut, and his eyes…
His eyes were perfectly lucid, a perfect quixotic blend of light grey and pale blue that Nare couldn’t quite name, and they were so warm. His eyebrows were creased with a hint of concern, and when the crease in his brow deepened, she realized that she was staring.
“Are you all right?” Professor Solas said.
She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Which was a good thing, because the only words Nare could think were you are fucking hot.
She nodded dumbly. A tiny hint of a smile curled the left corner of his lips, and he released her arms. “I apologize for the collision,” he said, and he crouched down to pick up his book and her phone. “I should know better than to read and walk at the same time.”
Nare watched stupidly as he rose to his full height. Fenedhis, he was tall.
He held out her phone, and Nare carefully studied his face. There was no recognition there. There was warmth in his handsome face, but no recognition. He didn’t know who she was.
Not that she would necessarily expect him to, since he was a professional and an intellectual, and professional intellectuals probably didn’t online-stalk their new grad students to find out what they looked like.
She took her phone with trembling fingers and swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “You are not hurt, I hope?”
Ugh, he was so good-looking. Why did her supervisor have to be her exact ideal physical type?
She dropped his gaze and tucked a stray strand of hair over her ear. “I — no. I’m fine,” she said in a tiny voice.
“Good,” he said. “And again, I apologize for the collision.”
She shrugged and tried to nod at the same time, then wanted to smack herself for being so fucking awkward.
“Take care,” he said. A moment later, he was walking away from her.
She finally dragged in a breath and watched greedily as Professor Solas walked away. For someone who had such a mild voice and such kind eyes, his gait was certainly confident.
Confident and sexy.
Nare blew out a breath and forced herself to turn away. She was shaking. Why was she shaking? Why was her heart beating so hard, not just in her chest but in her entire body?
Why was her mind completely taken over by the thought of Professor Solas stretching her naked body out on a desk, those warm grey-blue eyes scanning her from head to toe before he taught her all kinds of torrid lessons that she would never forget?
Fuck, she thought desperately. I am in so much trouble.
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Jealousy... Part 3
A/N: The long awaited part 3 my lovelies! Hope you all enjoy! My taglist is open as are my requests, but they are a bit slow as I have essays and exams to do! Drop me a message or ask if you have a request and I’ll get back to you. Triggers: Swearing, smoking, blood, graphic case details, hints of Jemily
“How the fuck does she…” Rossi began amazed you got there first. “She’s a walking, talking New York map.” Spencer said as he and Rossi followed the instructions you gave them, and as they got there, you’d already got Toby on the floor. “Where is Myers?” You ask Toby “I don’t know Y/N!” Toby called out as you pick him up with one hand as Spencer looks at you with wide eyes. “Then why did you run?” You ask, “And it’s Agent Y/N.” “I thought you found out about what the restaurant was doing.” Toby said, “I didn’t want anything to do with it.” “Fucking hell.” You sigh, “Have you heard from him at all in the last two weeks?” “Once. He said he needed my car for something but didn’t say what, he said I’d get it back tomorrow.” “I have an idea, but I need you to come back with us.” You say to Toby. Toby nodded, knowing he didn’t have much of a choice. He had a record and if he helped, you could talk to the D.A on his charges and potentially reduce them. Toby gets in the car. “What’s your idea kiddo?” Rossi asks “I’ll tell you all at the station.” You say as Spencer hands Rossi the keys “I’m not driving in New York traffic.” Rossi said looking at the time “Oh, you haven’t lived. I know all the side streets.” You smirk, “I can get us back at the station and pretty boy will still be telling Toby about the case.” “You want to bet?” Rossi asked handing you the keys “$20.” You smile, knowing you will win. “Deal.” Rossi said shaking your hand not knowing what he was letting himself in for. Sure enough, you won, and Rossi slipped $20 in your hand. “I should have gone higher.” You mumble to yourself “Y/N, who’s that?” Hotch asked, gesturing to Toby, who you put in a room. “Myers twin brother, Toby. He has a record longer than your legs, and I think I can get him talking. Myers asked to borrow his car two weeks ago, when the killings started, and is giving it back tomorrow, so I’m thinking if we can get Toby a wire, we can listen in during the exchange, and catch him in the act. In exchange, we can get some of Toby’s charges dropped.” You say “How do we know Toby isn’t involved?” J.J asked “If he is, the deal is off.” Rossi said “Let’s do it.” Hotch said You went through the plan with Toby, “If I find out you are somehow involved, the deal is off and you’re getting jail time too. Clear?” You ask him Toby nods. “Yes Agent.” He stuttered after you brought up all of his charges, even without looking at his record file. “He’s terrified of her. Damn.” Morgan said from behind the class. “What did she do?” “Took him down before we even caught up with her.” Spencer said smiling at his girlfriend through the glass “And she picked him up with one arm. He’s like 2 foot taller than her.” Rossi said “2 foot 3 and a half inches.” Spencer said.
“Right everyone, get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow.” Hotch said handing everyone their hotel room keys. “Anyone fancy a drink?” Rossi asked You nod quickly wanting one as soon as you found out about the case. “You can smoke in the hotel bar too, on the balcony.” Spencer said, “I noticed earlier.” “Anyone else joining us?” You ask as Spencer and Emily both nod. “See you all in the morning.” Hotch said. Everyone said their goodnights, and you, Spencer, Rossi and Emily went to the bar. “I think I’ll just have a whiskey, what do you kids want?” Rossi asked you all and you placed your orders and went outside with Emily. “How are you feeling?” Emily asked you “Nervous, what if this all goes tits up?” You ask her as you get a cigarette out of your pocket and light one up. “It won’t. Your plan is solid.” Emily reassured you as Rossi and Spencer came out “Anyone else want one?” You ask as Rossi and Spencer come back from the bar, with the drinks and Rossi takes one from you since you usually have smoke breaks together. “Yeah.” Spencer and Emily said taking one “Since when do you smoke Doctor?” Emily asked Spencer “When someone fucks with my girlfriend and I need to calm down before I take him down myself.” Spencer said handing you your drink. “I thought you had a load of statistics you told your Mum to stop her smoking.” Rossi said to Spencer “She still smokes, she doesn’t know I know, but I do.” Spencer said laughing as Rossi gave you his lighter then gave it to Spencer. “Since when do you smoke Prentiss?” He asked, returning the question. “When someone fucks with one of us.” Emily said You all sit there for a few hours, “You guys can go to bed if you want. I know I won’t get any sleep until we get back to Quantico.” You say “At least come back to the room Y/N.” Spencer said to you with sad eyes. “Genius is right. I’ll be next door and Emily & J.J are opposite.” Rossi said “Yeah so if you want girl talk…” Emily winked knowing you hated girl talk. You roll your eyes, “Fine. We have to be up soon anyways.” You all go to your rooms, and you take a shower once Spencer has finished and end up reading all of his books whilst he sleeps. “Morning darling.” You smile as Spencer slowly opens his eyes “Morning.” Spencer says rubbing his eyes. “Did you get any sleep?” You shake your head, “I did read all of your books and all of the books in the hotel lost and found though, so it wasn’t a wasted night.” You say gesturing to the box containing around 50 books. Spencer sighs, he wishes he could get you to sleep but he knows once the case is over you will rest. “Sorry Y/N. You don’t deserve this.” “It’s fine, now get ready, I ordered us pancakes to the room.” You say kissing his lips softly “You’re the best.” Spencer smiled and got ready. “Want to know a fact?” You ask Spencer “Of course.” Spencer smiled “Before you, I always wore matching socks… But now…” You say lifting your jeans up slightly to show your mismatched socks Spencer’s face lit up, “I love them.” He smiled “But I love you more.” He accidentally said out loud “You love me?” You ask, realising neither of you have said it yet. “I love you.” Spencer confirmed with a smile “I love you too.” You smile and kiss him as there is a knock at the door “Pancakes for Y/N.” The lady said from the other side of the door “Great – coming!” You say and pay the lady and close the door. Spencer smiles at you, “What did you get?” “I got lemon and sugar for me. Chocolate sauce and sprinkles for you.” You say handing him his plate as you both eat your pancakes, and cuddle until Hotch texts everyone asking to meet at the station as it’s only a short walk away. “Y/N…” Spencer says after checking his phone, noticing you’ve gone fallen sleep. He feels bad that he has to wake you, knowing this is the only sleep you have got in over 36 hours. “Bubba…” He says kissing your cheek. “Hotch needs us.” You groan as you slowly get up from Spencer’s warm embrace, “But I’m comfy.” “I’m sorry.” Spencer frowned, “I don’t think Hotch would appreciate you not showing up because you were cuddling your boyfriend.” “Not your fault Spence.” You say kissing his lips and you leave the hotel, having a cigarette as you walk with Spencer. “You did look really comfortable.” Spencer admitted as you put your cigarette out and opened the police station door for you “Thanks handsome.” You smile and arrive into the police station, “Morning everyone.” You yawn walking straight to the coffee machine. “Is there something on my face?” You ask as everyone looks at you. “There’s been another murder.” J.J said In anger, you smash the mug you were holding and even Morgan looks scared of you. “I’m so fed up of this.” You say picking up the fragments and putting them in the bin. “Well at least we know Toby isn’t involved.” Hotch said giving you a hand with picking up the shards. You nod, “Are we still going with the plan at 12?” “Yes, we are.” Morgan said giving you a coffee, “Maybe don’t smash this mug.” He winked You rolled your eyes, “Whatever.” “Easy Morgan. Y/N could kick you in the dick again.” J.J smiled which made you laugh “So the plan is Reid, Rossi and I will be in a van down the road. J.J will stay here with Penelope on the phone, and mind the tip line in case anything changes, Prentiss, Hotch and Morgan will be undercover, around the street. Toby will wait at the agreed spot waiting to meet Myers. Then, if we are lucky, Myers will talk about the murders, into Toby’s hidden microphone in his jacket button and we will go in and arrest him, and I will sleep. Happy fucking ever after.” You say “Er, agent Y/N?” Toby asks “Yes?” You ask “Which button has the microphone?” He asks “That’s the fun part, you will never know.” Penelope says down the line. “I knew my Scout girl sewing skills would pay off one day.” J.J said “You were a Scout girl?” Emily asked, “I want to see photos.” “Later.” J.J laughed You all got in position and waited. “30 minutes to go.” Rossi said “I could do with that whiskey now.” You sigh rubbing your temples “I have some, I’ll give it to you later.” Rossi said showing you his flask
“Agent Y/N?” Toby said through his microphone “Yes?” You sigh “He’s on his way.” Toby replied “Stand by.” Rossi said to everyone 25 minutes later “Ah there’s my little brother.” Myers smiles at Toby as he pulls up with Toby’s vehicle. “He’s here. The son of a bitch is here.” You say to everyone, feeling yourself tense up as Spencer puts his hand on yours and rubs it softly knowing it calms you down. ~To be continued~ Taglist: @pumpkin-goob , @jpegjade , @andiebeaword , @hopebaker , @hotchsbabygirl , @hercleverboy , @cupcake525 , @gubetube , @aperrywilliams , @cosmic-psychickitty , @marleyhotchner , @gubler-me-up , @goldentournesol , @jenna-jd , @reidgraygubler , @g0ldengubler , @gcblers , @peachpitfics
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Fun and Games (Valerius/Fem Apprentice)
Valerius has developed an interest in the local witch. Things come to a head during a game of chess and they decide to have some naughty fun. WARNINGS: LEMON, FEM DOM, S&M, D/S, SPANKING, SLAPPING, SCRATCHING, BONDAGE, HUMILIATION, HAIR PULLING, ... probably more.
Valerius spun his wine glass in his hand, holding it up to the light to admire the way the sun reflected through it. He had been waiting for the witch for some time. It wasn’t that she was late, but he found himself eager to see her and so had been sitting by the chess board for at least an hour, hoping she might arrive early.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching and pulled out a small mirror, taking a moment to make sure his hair and clothes were arranged properly before she entered the room.
“Ah!” Valerius exclaimed when she approached, removing her hat and cloak. “Good afternoon, Pearl. I’m glad to see you’re on time. You know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
“And I don’t like to keep others waiting, if I can help it,” Pearl replied with a smile as she accepted the glass of wine Valerius offered her.
“A most respectable attitude to take,” Valerius spoke as he gestured towards the seat across from him.
They played quietly for a while. They had added their own rules to their regular games: they took turns meeting at one another’s homes and whoever hosted also provided the wine. They also had a rule that whenever one player took another’s piece, the player who took the piece got to ask the other a question which the player losing the piece had to answer. It was through their games that Valerius had come to find the witch… interesting. Not only was she a clever conversation partner in her own right, but there was a level of trust that had been built up between them. Trust was something the Consul was not accustomed to, though he was beginning to find it far more pleasant that he would like to admit.
Pearl took the first piece and smiled up at Valerius.
“Valerius, when was the last time you took a lover?”
The consul nearly choked on his wine. The question had taken him by surprise and he had to stop and think.
“I suppose it has been over 3 years ago now,” he mused after attempting to do the math in his head.
“Why so long?” Pearl asked as they returned to their game. It was not unusual for the questions to lead to further conversation and while the rules did not require either player to answer more than one question, they would often offer more details, provided it was information they didn’t mind giving.
“I suppose I found most of my lovers rather disappointing,” Valerius continued. “And I’m not the sort of person who will bed just anyone.”
Valerius then took Pearl’s pawn and smiled at her, taking a sip of his wine.
“So, Witch, same question. When did you last take a lover?”
“Last night,” Pearl answered without batting an eye.
Valerius spit out his wine in a most inelegant spray. Whatever answer he was expecting, it was NOT that and a wave of emotions washed over him. Anger and jealousy soon rose to the top.
“Forgive me,” he spoke, pulling out a handkerchief in an effort to clean up the mess he’d made, relieved to see that Pearl seemed to have stayed out of the line of fire. “I was not aware that you had a partner.”
Sadness was taking over for the other emotions. Valerius’s heart sunk, though he silently berated himself for being foolish enough to have come to care for Pearl enough to be hurt by this news.
“I don’t,” she assured him. “He was simply a man I met at the tavern. I’m not even sure how to contact him again. It was purely physical. Nothing more.”
Valerius looked at her, trying very hard not to imagine the things she had done with a stranger less than 24 hours before. He didn’t realize he was staring as he weighed his options. He wanted to tell her that she could come to him, if ever she felt the need for THAT kind of companionship, but he was also unsure if he really felt safe enough to volunteer that information. What if she rejected him? What if she never came? It was bad enough knowing she had slept with a stranger when the consul had no reason to be jealous. Knowing she might still prefer a stranger when he had already volunteered his services would be positively unbearable.
Pearl fought the urge to laugh and barely hid her smile. She had not expected this kind of a reaction from Valerius at all. It was intriguing.
“I didn’t mean to shock you,” she added, taking a sip of wine to hide her grin. “I didn’t realize you were so… modest.” She hesitated, finally settling on “modest” after ruling out “prudish” and “old-fashioned.” Valerius was certainly entitled to his beliefs and preferences, even if Pearl didn’t share them.
“It’s not a question of modesty,” Valerius spoke as he turned his attention back to their game.“ As I said before, I too have taken lovers in the past. I merely abandoned such endeavors in recent years after a long series of disappointments. But what about you, Witch, was this man that you met in the bar worth the effort for you?”
As he spoke, Valerius held up one of Pearl’s pieces that he had just taken, indicating that this was the question she was now required to answer.
Pear shrugged, taking a sip of wine while she considered the question.
“Yes and no, I suppose,” she replied at last. “I did enjoy it; however, it was not particularly memorable…. The anticipation, and imagining how it might be was fun though the act itself was perhaps no better than what I could have achieved on my own. So, in that regard, I can see where you’re coming from.”
Valerius found he could not make eye contact now and he took a particularly long drink of wine and them buying himself more time as he refilled his glass. The consul was doing his best to hide the blush that now covered his face. He now had the image of Pearl pleasuring herself in his mind. He would DEFINITELY be returning to that image later. Still, right now with her sitting across from him, he found it incredibly inconvenient.
“I believe it is not only that,” Valerius spoke now, more to fill the silence than anything. “I have always been rather particular about my partners. I find that sex leaves me entirely too vulnerable to wish to engage in it with just anyone.”
“So, you like the intimacy then?”
“It’s not intimacy, per se. I’m hardly the romantic sort, when it comes to sex.”
“Then what sorts of sexual things do you like, Consul?” Pearl asked, as she tapped the chess piece she had just claimed against her cheek.
Valerius now found himself at a bit of a loss. He knew perfectly well what he enjoyed but, he was reluctant to tell Pearl. Really, he was far too interested in her. He didn’t wish to say anything that might put her off. He wished he’d thought to ask her first so that he could simply recite her own desires back to her. Despite refusing to take a lover for so long do to his repeated disappointments, if he had stopped to think about it, he would realize that he could not imagine any sexual scenario with Pearl that would leave him wanting.
“It depends somewhat on my partner,” he spoke at last. “With the right partner, I am will to try almost anything. Though I do like a bit of excitement… If I’m going to go to the trouble of fixing my hair, putting on my best boa and stockings, the very least I expect would be someone to ruin my hair and ensure those stockings will not survive to see another banquet. I guess you could say that I like it rough. I enjoy a lover who won��t treat me like I’m made of glass. I guess one could say that I’m the submissive sort. I enjoy being hurt and humiliated. I suppose that’s where trusting my partner comes into play. I have no desire to do those things with a partner I don’t trust.”
It was Pearl’s turn to stare at her gaming partner in disbelief. She always considered Valerius to be an attractive man but the image of the proud haughty consul begging to be completely disheveled and disgraced did things to her she had not realized she wanted. The witch bit her lip as she looked him over lustfully. Valerius saw the ways she was staring at him and decided to make his move. She was clearly interested and liked what she heard. Now it just remained to be seen if she was willing to go further.
The consul held up his wine glass, pouring the wine over the front of his clothing.
“Oh, how clumsy of me,” he spoke in a tone that showed no hint of remorse.
Valerius rose and began to remove his soiled wrap and overcoat.
“I seem to require some time to make myself presentable,“ he spoke as he undressed. “Please help yourself to more wine and if you happen to see anything else that you like, don’t hesitate to use it as you will.”
The invitation was not lost on Pearl who looked down at their game to confirm what she already knew.
“Checkmate,” she spoke moving her piece to take Valerius’s queen, leaving him with nowhere to move that would protect him from her further advances. She stood, taking the captured queen with her.
“Allow me,” she spoke, reaching to replace Valerius’s hands with her own as he skillfully untied the laces on his overcoat.
“If you have a safe word, you’d better tell me now,” she stated, keeping eye contact with the consul as she slowly began to remove his clothing.
“I have no need for such things,” Valerius sneered. “If you displease me, I will ask you to stop in plain English.”
“Indulge me,” Pearl cooed in a way that caused the consul to go weak in the knees. “Scratching, biting, hair pulling, name calling, slapping, hitting, spanking, bondage, butt play, oral sex. Do any of these appeal to you? And how fond are you of this chess set and that outfit?”
Valerius bit his lip now, convinced he would faint if they didn’t move things along more quickly.
“All of them appeal to me a great deal. Though I trust you’re not all talk and no action. I don’t mind replacing the set or my clothes, if you make it worth it to me to do so. I don’t mind a bit of blood and bruises but I don’t wish to be maimed. I also don’t desire to be put on display, though I do like a little embarrassment in front of the right person.”
He grinned as he spoke and Pearl grinned back. They were so busy looking at one another that Valerius didn’t notice how she had wrapped his braid around her hand. She gave a firm tug, surprising the consul and exposing a generous portion of his neck, which Pearl promptly bit down hard on.
Valerius gave a deep sensual moan. GODS YES! How long had he wanted this? His body came to life at once in response to her. Already, she was proving to be more than he’d hoped for and they’d barely even started yet. It was as though he’d been dying to drink for four years and she was finally quenching his thirst.
Reaching down, Pearl grabbed the front of his tunic with both hands and ripped, exposing a generous portion of her lover’s chest.
Valerius threw his head back with a loud moan. He loved this! His servants would have to bring him some new clothes and the thought only excited him further. He loved the feeling of being exposed and vulnerable by having his clothing torn off.
Pearl growled as she continued to tear at his clothing, leaving the consul in only his underwear.
Valerius’s body began to shiver and he threw himself down on the couch with his hands above his head. Loose strands of hair were falling out of his braid, his face was flushed, and he was starting to pant.
“Do your worst, witch!” He challenged her and Pearl looked him over with a smirk.
“You’re such a delicious slut, Consul. This look suits you. You try to act so respectable, but now your true colors are starting to show.”
“Don’t call me a slut until you’ve fucked me,” Valerius sneered, although he was deeply enjoying everything about this interaction.
“Oh?” Pearl smirked in a way Valerius would not have thought her capable of. She was generally so kind but, at that moment, she looked positively wicked. “Is that what you want, Consul? Would you like to be fucked?”
As she spoke, Pearl crawled on top of him, she avoided touching him but kept herself dangerously close. She moved her face to his, smelling the wine on his breath. The hopeless lost look on his face was mesmerizing and so at odds with his usual haughty persona.
“Yes,” he answered breathlessly, unable to act proud now that she was so close and offering him exactly what he wanted.
If it were possible, Pearl’s smile grew even crueler.
“Beg me,” she commanded, grabbing his wrists and holding them above his head.
Valerius’s expression changed after she spoke. He was annoyed by how confident she was. Although, he desperately wanted her, he was not so far gone that he could beg without feeling self-conscious about it.
“Make me,” he demanded, the challenge shining in his eyes.
Pearl’s eyes darkened and Valerius barely had time to register that she had released his wrists before he felt the slap across his face.
It was rough, hard enough it might leave a mark and sent a jolt of pleasure down to his groin.
Without missing a beat, Pearl reached down Valerius’s underwear and grabbed his cock, stroking him hard and fast.
Valerius cried out, and his body jolted forward. He was gasping for breath and getting close to completion when they had barely started. Not only had Valerius not taken a lover in many years, he had not been keeping up well enough with his own needs and it would not take very much to send him over the edge.
As quickly as it started, Pearl stopped, releasing him and causing Valerius to cry out again, only this time in frustration. His over-heated body begging for release and he bit his lip, barely able to resist the urge to grab his own length and finish himself off.
“BEG!” Pearl ordered once more and this time, Valerius didn’t hesitate.
“GODS PLEASE! DON’T STOP! PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU WISH!”
Valerius meant it too. It wasn’t just that he wanted to be finished, but he wanted to know what else she had in store for him. His body ached and he was ready for whatever she commanded him to do.
Pearl slapped him again and then reached up to grab his neck. Valerius moaned and bit his lip, the slap nearly as arousing as her touch had been.
“You dare ask for something after you refused me once?” She asked, cruelty dripping from every word, causing Valerius to tremble uncontrollably. “You should be begging for forgiveness.”
“I will beg your forgiveness,” Valerius promised breathlessly, meeting her gaze to show just how serious he was.
“Strip and get on your knees,” Pearl commanded, moving away so Valerius could oblige.
The consul quickly pulled away his underwear, casting them aside before he fell to his knees. Valerius put both hands down before him and lowered his head while facing her. He didn’t need to act, since now he was truly contrite and desperately wanted to apologize so that Pearl would finish what she had begun.
“I beg your forgiveness,” he spoke softly to the ground. “It was wrong and foolish of me. I will do whatever you ask, if I can be forgiven.”
Normally, Valerius would never dream of speaking like this. He would be mortified by the very thought of it, but the humiliation only made it all the more appealing to him now.
“Sit up,” Pearl spoke, giving no indication of whether or not his words had reached her.
Valerius did as he was told, still on his knees, Valerius sat up and faced her. Pearl was sitting on the sofa, so she was still slightly above him.
“Hands behind your back,” Pearl commanded, and Valerius quickly complied, giving Pearl a clear view of his nude body and fully erect cock.
“Aren’t you ashamed?” Pearl mocked. “Aren’t you embarrassed to be naked begging to be fucked by me?”
“I would endure any humiliation if it meant you would fuck me,” Valerius replied, looking into her eyes without blinking. At that moment, he meant it.
Pearl tried and failed to hide the smirk that tugged at her lips with how pleased these words made her.
“Lay yourself across my lap ass up,” she commanded. “If it’s humiliation you want, I will humiliate you further.”
Valerius nodded and did as he was told, draping himself across her lap. He wasn’t sure what Pearl had in mind, though he should not have been as surprised as he was when he felt her hand firmly slap against his ass.
Valerius gasped and barely had time to recover before another slap came. And another. And another. He bit his lip, doing his best not to cry out with each slap. His cock pressed against Pearl, and he knew that she could feel just how much he enjoyed this.
Once his ass was the perfect shade of red, Pearl reached down to grab a fistful of her lover’s hair, pulling his head firmly back and causing him to cry out.
“Such a perverted consul,” Pearl taunted. “You enjoy this, don’t you? It’s making your cock hard. Tell me what you want. Beg me for it!”
“Fuck me!” Valerius cried out, the desperation clear in his voice. “Please fuck me! Your abuse is making my perverted cock hard and I want to cum!”
Pearl smiled at him, although her lover couldn’t see it. This was convenient since she didn’t want to let him know just how pleased she was with his behavior.
“Spread your ass for me,” She ordered. “Spread your ass and then tell me what you want me to do to you.”
The consul reached back with both hands, spreading himself as she had requested.
“Please fuck me!” He begged once more. “Use me however you wish. My body is yours to play with. Please use me and fuck me as you like.”
Pearl smiled once more as she reached for the queen she had set aside earlier, the piece she had taken that won her their game.
“This look suits you very well,” she mused, moving the piece to Valerius’s lips. “SUCK!” She commanded, slipping the piece into his mouth.
Valerius obeyed at once, even moaning around it. He wanted so much more than this, but hoped, if he did well, he would be rewarded.
Without a word, Pearl moved the piece away and the consul gasped when he felt something hard press against the hole that he was still offering to her.
Pearl smirked wickedly as she shoved the piece in, leaving the base out to make it easy to remove when the time came.
Valerius moaned, body clenching around the new invasion. He wasn’t sure if it was the sensation of having something so hard shoved into his ass or the embarrassment of it that excited him so much, but he moved his hips without meaning to, moaning and savoring the feel of it.
Pearl laughed openly at him now.
“On your back,” she demanded with a final slap to his ass. “If you want to fuck me, you have to earn it.”
Valerius nodded, though the gesture was lost as he quickly got up and lay on the floor, offering himself to his lover.
Pearl made show of walking around him, surveying her lover from above. She then walked over to take a sip of her forgotten wine glass.
Valerius bit his lip, fighting the urge to beg for some attention, but he feared the punishment that would come if he upset her again.
Pearl then surveyed the consul’s damaged clothing. She lifted his torn tunic and began to tear it some more, tearing strips of cloth from it.
Valerius was so aroused that even the noise of fabric tearing turned him on.
Pearl then walked over to him. She tied one hand to the foot of the soft and the other to the leg of a nearby recliner.
Pearl looked down at him again, his eyes were wide and pleading. His face was flushed and his lips slightly parted as though he was fighting with himself not to beg her again. His hair had come loose from his braid and lay around him in messy waves.
“This look definitely suits you,” Pearl mused again as she began to unfasten the sash around her pants.
Valerius gasped and pulled slightly on his restraints without meaning to. He caught himself and quickly stopped, doing his best to lay still.
“So eager,” Pearl teased. “you don’t even know what I have planned for you.”
“I believe there is nothing you could do to me that I would not enjoy,” Valerius spoke, the truth of his words hanging heavy in the air.
Pearl smirked as she pulled away her pants and underwear, tossing them aside.
“If you want me,” she told him, straddling his body but bending down so that she could look into his eyes, “you have to earn it.” Saying this, she moved to straddle his head. “Pleasure me!”
“Yes…” her lover gasped reverently as she lowered her body over his head.
Consul Valerius was very good at this. Pearl had not expected this. He had not taken a lover in so long, she had anticipated that he would not be particularly skillful but she was terribly mistaken. It crossed her mind that the consul was right to hold his lovers to such high standards when he himself was this good.
“Oh yes!” She cried, unafraid of letting him know that he was doing well. She reached down and grabbed his hair, using her grip to guide his actions. “It seems you do have your uses, Consul,” she teased.
Just for fun, Pearl pulled away, watching as her lover’s head crane as he attempted to reach her. She slapped him as she had done before.
“BEG!” She commanded. “Beg me to let you pleasure me!”
“Fuck!” He cried in desperation. “Please let me lick you! Let me pleasure you. You’ve found a use for me, so use me… please.”
Pearl smiled as she positioned herself over him once more, guiding him by the hair as she fucked his face. She reached down, running her nails from his abdomen up to his chest, and making him moan. When she saw that he liked this, she did it again and again. Finally, when she came, she dug deep enough to leave red marks across his body.
Once she had ridden out her orgasm, Pearl moved away from him. She smiled down at him and reached down, gently running her fingertips up and down the length of his cock. It was enough to tease and caused her lover to tremble beneath her.
“Be proud of those marks, Valerius,” she teased.
Hearing his name on her lips made the man’s eyes flutter shut. “They mean you were able to make me cum.”
“Yes…” he sighed and began to gasp at the way she was teasing his cock. “Please…” he added softly. “Please… I want more…”
“Mmm…” the woman purred. “Naughty…”
Pearl moved down and rubbed against him replacing the hand on her lover’s cock with her body.
Valerius’s eyes rolled back and he cried out as Pearl reached up to pinch his nipples, twisting them roughly.
Valerius’s back arched and he cried out.
“Buck or try to enter me and I’ll stop,” Pearl threatened.
Valerius looked at her and his mouth opened. He was about to protest. This was too cruel. However, Pearl stopped her movements and gave him a threatening look. He knew with every fiber of his being that she meant it.
“I’ll be good,” he promised softly. “Please use me as you will... Please…”
“Good boy,” Pearl cooed as she started to move again.
“Tell me,” she spoke after Valerius’s eyes had closed again, forcing him to look at her. “What is your fantasy, Valerius? Tell me what you desire in your most private moments.”
Pearl was not prepared for his answer.
“You,” her lover replied, looking up at her with pure reverence in his face. “I have wanted you longer and more fondly than I care to admit. And not just today. I want you always.”
Valerius’s face had grown even more flushed and there were tears in his eyes now. He had not dared to admit this, even to himself. As Pearl looked at him, one of the tears that had threatened to spill from his eyes rolled down his cheek.
Despite herself, Pearl was lost. She leaned down, capturing her lover’s lips as she adjusted her position so that she could take him fully.
They both made loud noises of pleasure but did not break their kiss.
Finally, Pearl moved away, sitting up to ride him properly.
The image of her pleasuring herself on his body, face flushed, panting… it was too much and Valerius began to thrust despite himself.
Pearl slapped him across the face for breaking a rule but could not bring herself to stop riding him. She was far too close now.
Valerius cried out in pleasure at the slap and it sent him over the edge. Despite herself, Pearl followed him, loving the thrill of hitting her lover and how much he enjoyed the pain. She moved erratically as they both rode out their orgasms. Pearl took a few moments for them both to catch their breath before reaching to untie her lover.
Valerius’s mind had begun to clear from its lust-filled haze and he was feeling incredibly self-conscious.
“Thank you,” he mumbled once he was untied. He rubbed his wrists and looked away, unable to face Pearl after what they had done.
Pearl put a hand on his shoulder and then reached up to move some of his hair out of his face and behind his ear.
“Did I do anything that was too much or you didn’t like?” She asked. Her tone was soft and serious now, not at all like she had spoken to him earlier.
“I enjoyed it all very much,” Valerius replied, still looking away from her. “You did not do anything out of line.”
The consul ran his fingers through his hair, making an attempt to straighten it. He was suddenly very much aware of his own nakedness and feeling rather self-conscious. He shifted and felt the chess piece still wedged in his ass.
“May I remove this now?” he asked, unsure if it was necessary to ask permission at this point.
“Of course,” Pearl replied, looking around and finding her lover’s cloak, which she wrapped around him to give him some coverage until he could fetch him proper clothing.
“I’ll be right back,” she assured him as she quickly dressed and headed out the door.
Valerius was unsure of what to do once she was gone, not that he had had truly known how to act when she was there. He removed the chess piece from his ass and fiddled with the edge of the cloak. He was trying hard not to think of anything in particular, fearing that if he did so, he would crack. He felt vulnerable, exposed, and wanted comfort. However, he was too ashamed to ask for it. He wanted Pearl to stay with him, but feared her rejection too much to ask it of her. She had pulled the confession of his feelings from him but Pearl had no way of knowing if his feelings were genuine or if they were simply spoken in the heat of the moment. He had no reason to think that this meant anything to her. It was clear from her fling the night before that sex meant nothing to her and the thought was too painful for Valerius in his vulnerable state.
Pearl returned quickly with two towels, a robe, some water, and a brush.
“I told the servants that you spilled wine on clothing and asked them to draw you a bath,” she explained.
She lay the robe down near him and then took a towel, which Valerius realized was damp and warm, and began to gently rub his face with it.
It felt nice. Too nice and Valerius refused to let himself sink into the comfort of it. Doing so might break him.
“That’s not necessary,” he spoke, quickly pushing her and the towel away.
His face was still turned and Pearl was easily able to tell something was wrong.
“Valerius,” she spoke softly, putting fingers under his chin to force him to look at her. She searched his face for a moment, taking in his lost expression before silently pulling him into an embrace, resting his head against her chest.
“I don’t need this,” the consul spoke coldly, though he made no effort to pull away from her.
“I do,” she replied, gently running her fingers through his hair and resting a cheek on his head. “Humor me.”
“If you insist,” Valerius sighed though his body remained stiff against her.
After a few moments, Pearl realized he wasn’t going to relax and she sighed, pulling away from him.
Unsure of what else to do, she rose from their awkward embrace and finished her wine in a large gulp.
“You don’t have to act so cold all the time,” she said, the first signs of genuine frustration she’d expressed all day creeping into her voice. She straightened her clothes and reached for her hat and cloak. Valerius realized she was preparing to leave.
She walked over to him and caressed his cheek, the one that was not sore from her previous abuse.
“If you ever decide you want some warmth and tenderness… I’m good for that too.” She informed him and although her voice was cold, it cracked slightly at the end and Valerius caught a glimpse of the pain behind her words.
Pearl moved away from him and started to leave. It was her turn to attempt to hide her face from her lover but Valerius grabbed her waist, pulling her back towards him and holding her body against his.
“I want that…” his voice shook and his body trembled as he held her close. Although he still could not look at her, he allowed himself to surrender to the warmth of the embrace. Pearl relaxed too, settling against him once more. Perhaps she would not stay with him forever, but she was here now and for the moment, that was enough.
#the arcane game#the arcana#arcana#consul valerius#valerius the arcana#Arcana fanfic#arcana fan fiction#arcana lemon#Valerius#Myrtle's Writing
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Viranlly hosts Thanksgiving Dinner.
in partnership with Wines of British Columbia.
IT’S CRUNCH TIME Y’ALL!
I don’t even where time went but here we are now, just over a week before Thanksgiving. The aroma of PSL is in the crisp fall air, the days are getting shorter, and the meals we preppin’ are getting cozier each day. The holidays are upon us and so is the (grape) harvest month.
To celebrate both festivities, I’ve teamed up with the Wines of British Columbia to come up with some fun thanksgiving recipes and of course delicious BC wine pairings to go with them. I’m skipping the turkey, because let’s be honest, I don’t trust myself with a bird that size, nor that I have the space and capacity both physically and mentally to handle a turkey. I want to make sure that this holiday cooking will be as stress-free and as boozy as possible, because we all deserve that kind of holidays.
Please note that these recipes serve 4-6 people.
First thing first, it’s not a dinner party at Viranlly’s without a damn-well-put-together CHARCUTERIE AND CHEESE BOARD. Here’s the fun part about this board: there’s no recipe. The trick is you want to make sure you have a balance in flavours, textures and colours (because ya know.. aesthetic).
THE MEAT : variety of cured meats with different flavour profiles - hot genoa salami, prosciutto, iberico ham, chorizo, and capicollo are always a great start.
THE CHEESE : make sure you have at least hard and soft cheese, everything in between never hurts either - jammy brie or camembert is a crowd pleaser, manchego is delicious, especially when you can find the truffle-y ones. Can never go wrong with parmigianio-reggiano, or a nutty pecorino. Aged cheddar and smoked gouda if you want a little funk. The possibility is honestly, endless.
THE FRUITS AND VEGGIES : grapes and olives (olives are veggies, right? I prefer unpitted Castelvetrano) are staple on my board. Seasonal fruits and veggies always add amazing flavours to the board : pears and figs in the fall, peaches and berries in the summer.
THE EVERYTHING ELSE: honey, hummus, nuts, preserves, bread, crackers, pate, and everything your heart and stomach desire.
I always love to start the night off with a bottle or two of bubbly, something really crisp, citrusy and refreshing. The Howling Bluff Faux Paw has a ton of berry notes with a just a zest of spice, perfect to be enjoyed with everything on this board. Another great bubbly is the Haywire Pink Bub, which, we consumed throughout the summer.
The next two dishes are heavily inspired by my friends’ thanksgiving last year, with a view adjustments to meet what I have readily in my, and most kitchens.
This RADICCHIO AND SQUASH SALAD is my definition of the perfect autumn salad: rich and nutty, a hint of bitterness and lots of crunch.
THE VEGGIES:
1 medium-sized delicata squash, sliced up to half-an-inch-thick half moons (wow that’s wordy). Toss them in olive oil, salt and pepper before hitting the 450F preheated oven for 25-35 mins, or until fork tender. Occasionally turn your sheet tray to make sure they’re cooked evenly, and flip the squash over halfway.
Tear up and cut one head of radicchio into quarter, soak them in ice bath for a couple minutes before assembly.
Thinly slice one medium-sized asian pear, toss in the juice of half a lemon and season with salt and pepper.
THE DRESSING:
Toss half a cup (minus a handful for later) of pecan, or walnut, or hazelnuts (really, any nuts you have around -- 2 tablespoon peanut butter work too), 1 small shallot, juice of half an orange and one lemon, 1 tablespoon dijon mustard, a splash of red wine vinegar and 2 tablespoon maple syrup (or honey) into a blender. Blend together and gradually add in a 1/4 cup of olive oil until a silky consistency is achieved. Season with salt and pepper.
THE ASSEMBLY:
Spread leftover nuts in a small sheet tray, drizzle with olive oil, salt and one tbsp maple syrup.Put them in the still-hot oven just enough to get them slightly toasty. I tend to forget about them and burn the nuts to the ground, so leave this step until the last 5-10 mins before assembly.
Combine squash, radicchio in a big bowl, coat with dressing. Transfer to serving plate.
Sprinkle the toasted nuts, and the asian pear allover squash and radicchio.
Shave some parmesan or piave.
Drizzle with some more olive oil and lemon juice, and crack some more black pepper.
I thought this salad can use the brightness and the blossoming freshness of the Orofino orange wine: stunning colour, burst of tropical fruits and elegant floral notes. My mouth is watering as typed this.
This SAUSAGE AND CORNBREAD STUFFING changed the stuffing game forever. Honestly, you’d never want to eat another crusty, white bread stuffing for any holidays ever again. It’s so very indulgent, buttery, and loaded with aromatics. Crispy up top, soft and moist -- yes, moist inside.
THE CORNBREAD:
I am obsessed with the cornbread from Boulevard Kitchen and Oyster Bar. And since this recipe relies quite heavily on the cornbread, trust me, you’d want to use the best cornbread you can find. In this case, I’ve found the winner. Cut up 1 1/2 lb cornbread to 3/4″ pieces and leave them in a 350F oven for 40 mins or so until they’re dry. Don’t worry we’ll the moisture back later. Transfer cornbread to a big mixing bowl.
THE STUFFING:
Cook and a lb or so of breakfast sausage in a skillet. Break them apart with a wooden spoon and let brown about 8 minutes. Transfer sausages to a plate.
In the same skillet, leaving the sausage brown bits, add 1/4 cup of butter and cook one diced onion and two stalks of cubed up celery until softened. Add three cloves of chopped garlic and one sliced japaleno, cook for another minute or so. Add 1/2 cup of dry white wine and another 1/4 cup of butter and let the liquid evaporate. Add thyme and chopped sage.
THE ASSEMBLY:
Combine cornbread and stuffing in the mixing bowl, add 2 eggs and 1 1/2 cups of chicken stock. Stir them occasionally until cornbread absorbs most of the liquid.
Lightly butter a cast iron pan, or baking dish and transfer mixture in.
Put the pan in the 350F oven for 40-ish minutes then turn up the heat to 425F for 15-20 mins until the outside is crisp and golden brown.
The VinAmité Chanson d’Amour is quite a delightful pairing for this dish. The chardonnay in the blend gives that soft minerality while keeping the palate fresh and peachy. Another great option is the Unsworth Pinot Noir: plum-y, dark cherry, a swift hint of earthy herbs - brings out the thyme aroma in the dish.
The last recipe is a simple, choose-your-own-adventure kind of recipe to replace the boring old sweet potato casserole. It’s a BYOB: Build Your Own Baked sweet potato bar!
THE SWEET POTATO:
Cut 4 medium-sized sweet potatoes into half and coat them in olive oil, salt and pepper. Put them cut side down on a sheet tray and into a 425F oven for 30 minutes or until they’re fork tender.
THE TOPPINGS:
The toppings, again, can honestly be anything you’re in the mood for buuut these are my three favourites:
Spicy chorizo cooked in vermouth and butter. It’s as simple as it sounds. In a skillet, heat a tablespoon or so olive oil and bloom chili flakes in it. Slice two links of spanish chorizo and toss into the chili oil. Add vermouth and butter and cook until sauce thickens.
Spicy soy garlic tempeh. Dice one slab of tempeh (I used tempea) into 1/2 cm cubes and season with salt and pepper. In a skillet, add one table spoon of oil and add 2 cloves of chopped garlic. Toss the tempe in, and add 1 tablespoon of soy sauce, and 1 tablespoon of kecap manis. If you like the heat, add 1-2 sliced up birdseye chili. Serve with cilantro and green onion.
Lobster salad. Cut 2 lobster claws into chunks, add the juice of half a lemon and season with salt and pepper. Add 2 tablespoon of kewpie mayo, one teaspoon of honey, and mix together. Add 2 stalks of thinly sliced celery and top it off with dill. Season with salt and pepper as needed.
THE SAUCE:
As simple as sour cream (or plain greek yoghurt), lemon juice, olive oil, grated garlic cloves, seasoned with salt and pepper.
The salad dressing leftover works well too!
THE ASSEMBLY:
Go wild ;)
The wines for this particular dish can be as playful as you want them to be buuuut I decided to go with something a bit more crisp, fruity and floral like the Tantalus Vineyard Riesling especially if you go on the lobster route. Another great option is the Bartier Bros Merlot, which, is a slightly nutty, savoury with a touch more of cherry and dark fruits.
Hosting a holiday dinner is a pretty big job and I admit, it can get really stressful but I hope these easy-ish recipes and the wine (I know the wines work) will help you guys through. A MASSIVE thank you to the team at Legends Haul for making my grocery shopping for this dinner SO. MUCH. EASIER.
And just another PSA that the holiday is the PERFECT time to support you local wineries and enjoy the delicious wines BC has to offer. And BC has A LOT to offer. So, explore, sip and savour your way throughout this Harvest month. Find more information about BC Harvest Month here.
#thanksgiving#cooking#homecooking#BCWine#Local wine#wineries#wine#British Columbia#BC#foodie#foodblog#bonappetitmag#radar#popular
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ABCs of your OCs
A list of oc questions in alphabetical categories - i made each category based on the first word I could think of in alphabetical order, so enjoy!
A: Aptitude 1. What are your oc’s natural abilities, things they’ve been doing since young? Well as far as natural goes, she’s always been good at digging up details and exploring things. She’s always had the ability to read people as well and has always been able to manipulate her way through situations. 2. What activities have they participated in? Does being a Science Experiment count as an activity? She’s certainly not had the chance to join clubs or extracurricular but she’s managed to find people who have taught her how to Hack and code on the side. Aside from that she’s assisted with other experiments. 3. What abilities do they have that they’ve worked for? By work she’s had to gain control over them but that would be her Telekinesis mostly. She’s also worked to learn how to fight with her fan-blades, combat is a skill no?
4. What things are they bad at? Showing emotions. She’s been taught that they make you weak or get in the way so for the most part she tends to really hide them, even from herself. I guess she’s bad at dealing with them too because of that. She usually just overrides the bad ones with distractions or sedatives. 5. What is their most impressive talent? Hmm...probably Telekinesis? Though arguably her skill with computers can be quite impressive, she does help discover how to upload consciousness after all.
B: Basics 1. what is their hair color? Platinum or I like to say Moonwhite 2. what is their eye color? Electric blue, they have that glow behind them. 3. how tall are they? 5′4 4. how old are they? If she no longer ages, does it matter? 5. how much do they weigh? 125lbs
C: Comfort 1. how do they sit in a chair? With legs curled up into it 2. in what position do they sleep? Curled on her stomach 3. what is their ideal comfort day? Remind me what a comfort day is? I don’t think she knows. 4. what is their major comfort food? why? Cupcakes - They’re pretty and taste amazing 5. who is the best at comforting them when down? Reeve Tuesti animus-inspire
D: Decoration 1. how would they decorate a house if they had one under their name? Her color scheme would be black and royal blue and it would probably have a victorian-esque style to the furniture. 2. how would they decorate their child’s room? What child? x) 3. how do they decorate their own room? Much like above, black bed, blue carpet, vanity, antique looking mirrors, books strewn about etc..and then probably some high tech laptop xD 4. what type of clothes and accessories do they wear? She usually wears some type of dress or long sweater dress w/ leggings type of outfits. But she does get into her crazy sci-fi armor mode at times with metallic bands and alien-esque designs. Example HERE Also, syringe belts, corset tops, vinyl...whatever she feels like but nothing ever baggy or denim. 5. do they like makeup/nail/beauty trends? I’m not sure that she’s into trends but if she’s browsing and finds a look that she likes she bound to try it out with her own twist to it.
E: External Personality 1. does the way they do things portray their internal personality? Not exactly, she tends to a hide a lot by using the outside as a mask. Usually a cold exterior and the colder she is about something? Chances are the more that it actually bothers her inside. 2. do they do things that conform to the norm? I’m not sure she knows what normal is #lablife 3. do they follow trends or do their own thing? She tends to do her own thing 4. are they up-to-date on the internet fads? She doesn’t care 5. do they portray their personality intentionally or let people figure it out on their own? People are going to have to figure it out on their own, whatever she portrays is what she wants certain people to see. It’s all a controlled act unless you do break through to her.
F: Fun 1. what do they do for fun? Tease people!, Works on her own projects, Talks to pet lab mice >> 2. what is their ideal party? A fancy club/bar with drinks and the atmosphere to not give a fuck about anything 3. who would they have the most fun with? Reeve Tuesti 4. can they have fun while conforming to rules? No, rules usually get broken whether intentional or not. 5. do they go out a lot? Not in her earlier years, and I wouldn’t say a lot but she does jump at any chance to get out when she can in later years or certain verses.
G: Gorgeous 1. what is their most attractive external feature? Oof, I’d rather someone else answer but I would say her eyes? They’re very prominent . 2. what is the most attractive part of their personality? Sly, cunning, seductive. I know people like the tease and the mystery. 3. what benefits come with being their friend? Extreme favors and definitely protection. Need anything that science can create? She’s got your back. 4. what parts of them do they like and dislike? She likes her loyalty and strength but she dislikes her alien side and does what she can to hide it from others. 5. what parts of others do they envy? She doesn’t. In her mind she’s Perfect and has been conditioned that way.
H: Heat 1. do they rather a hot or cold room? Cold so she can snuggle. 2. do they prefer summer or winter? Summer! 3. do they like the snow? It’s pretty...but it’s very cold so not really. 4. do they have a favorite summer activity? She loves the ocean and to hang at Costa del Sol. 5. do they have a favorite winter activity? She doesn’t experience much Winter in Midgar.
I: In-the-closet 1. what is their sexuality? Most likely Bi. 2. have they ever questioned their sexuality? No. She likes what she likes. 3. have they ever questioned their gender? No....aside from the fact she’s part alien??? 4. would/was their family be okay with them being LGBT? What family? 5. how long would/did it take for them to come out? She’s pretty much a take me how I am or leave it type.
J: Joy 1. what makes them happy? Kisses, attention, affection 2. who makes them happy? Reeve! 3. are there any songs that bring them joy? Hip-hop de Chocobo :| 4. are they happy often? No - certain verses though....when Reeve’s around >> 5. what brings them the most joy in the world? Once again, Reeve x) and being called perfect by certain someones
K: Kill 1. have they ever thought about suicide? Self harm, yes. But never suicide. That would mean losing. 2. have they ever thought about homicide? Yeah most likely :| 3. if they could kill anyone without punishment, would they? who? Anyone who hurts whoever she protects or loves. Then again...she believes that’s the easy way out and she’d rather break them mentally or make them suffer over death. 4. who would miss them if they died? Her sissy Ari, Reeve, and I’d like to think Hojo. 5. who would be happy they died, anyone? I’M SURE! But I don’t know who. DO tell me if it’s you xD Certain sects of Avalanche perhaps?
L: Lemons 1. what is their favorite fruit? Pineapple, Kiwi, Raspberries, Loganberries 2. what is their least favorite fruit? Blueberries maybe? 3. are there any foods they hate? Pork products 4. do they have any food intolerance? Intolerant of shitty options 5. what is their favorite food? Sushi!
M: Maternal 1. would they want a daughter or a son? If with the right person, sure? She’d more lean towards a Son. 2. how many children do they want? It would all depend. 3. would they be a good parent? Probably 4. what would they name a son? what would they name a daughter? I don’t want to sit here forever just to figure this out xD It’ll come to her when the time comes. 5. would they adopt? If there was reason, sure.
N: Never Have I Ever 1. what would they never do? Betray someone she loves. 2. what have they never done that they want to do? Gold Saucer please :V 3. is there anything they absolutely can’t believe people do? She certainly doesn’t understand camping. 4. what is the most embarrassing thing they’ve done? Oh um....thrown a cookie at the President? I’m sure she’s had lots of embarrassing moments. 5. have they done anything they thought they’d never do? Left the fucking labs! With Reeve of all people...never thought she’d see THAT coming.
O: Optimism 1. are they optimistic or pessimistic? This tends to fluctuate 2. are they openly optimistic, throwing it on others? If she needs to cheer someone up. 3. are they good at giving advice? Yes! She’s very crafty and know’s how to work situations. 4. is there anyone in their life that throws optimism on them? Hmmm...Arialla! 5. were they always optimistic? Not really
P: Personality 1. what is their best personality trait? Strength and Loyalty 2. what is their worst personality trait? Vindictive, Stubborn, Volatile 3. what of their personality do others love? Bold, Persistent 4. what of their personality do others envy? Fearless or crazy 5. do they hate anything about their personality/about other’s personalities? She hate weakness in others like...extreme William type weakness :| She tends to hate her own emotions quite a lot.
Q: Questions 1. do they ask for help? Yes if she needs it! She’s always willing to trade a favor. 2. do they ask questions in class? She’s not in school but she asks questions. It’s part of the scientific method. 3. do they answer questions that make them a little uncomfortable? Yes...unless its something she wants to keep hidden. 4. do they ask weird questions? All the damn time 5. are they curious? VERY!
R: Rules 1. do they follow rules? What are those again? 2. would they be a strict or laid-back parent? Both? 3. have they ever been consequences for breaking a rule? Yes, but she thinks its amusing/funny. 4. have they broken any rules they now regret breaking? Nope! No regrets! 5. do they find any rules they/others follow absolutely ridiculous? Most of them to be honest. Why limit yourself with the limitations of others?
S: Streets 1. are they street-smart? No, she tries :| 2. would they give money to someone on the streets? Yeah 3. have they ever gotten in a fight on the streets? If she hasn’t it’ll happen at some point. 4. has anything happened to them on the streets? Um... well, she may have slept with someone on a street but we’re not talking about that >> 5. are they cautious when out? Yes, she’s always cautious.
T: Truth 1. are they honest? No, depends who she’s talking too though. 2. can they tell if someone is lying? Yeah, she’s good at reading others. 3. is it obvious when they’re lying? It’s not obvious but she does have her tells which mostly involve diversions. 4. have they lied about anything they regret lying about? If anything, it’s the lies that she tells herself that she regrets. 5. have they told truths that have been spread against their will? Yes
U: Underdog 1. have they been bullied? That would be a stupid thing to do. 2. have they bullied anyone? Aside from teasing or being manipulative for a reason? I don’t think so. 3. have they been physically attacked by a bully? Nope - again that would be stupid 4. have they ever been doubted? Probably - Definitely 5. have they surprised people with being good at something? Yes
V: Vomit 1. do they vomit often? Not too often but when those emotions slip out in extremes she tends to throw up, what she shoves down must come up eventually. When she can’t take something this usually happens. Or if something impacts her hard. 2. do they get lots of stomach aches? Occasionally, she gets more headaches than anything. 3. are they good at comforting someone ill? Yes 4. what do they like as far as comfort goes? Someone to cuddle with 5. do they burp, cough, or hiccup most when nauseous? when vomiting? Coughs
W: Water 1. do they drink enough water? Probably not, if she even remembers to drink at all 2. have they learned to swim? Yes 3. do they like to swim? Yes 4. can they dive? Never tried 5. can they swim without holding their nose? Yes
X: Xylophone 1. what is their favorite genre of music? Electronic 2. do they have a favorite song? Too many to list x.x 3. do they have a favorite band/artist/singer? Still, too many to list 4. can they sing well? Yes 5. can they rap? Never tried to.
Y: You 1. how old were you when you created them? 11 or 12 *cries* 2. what inspired you to create them? Final Fantasy 7 3. were they different when they were first created? Oh heck yes - she wasn’t even an experiment at first xD 4. do you enjoy writing them more than other characters? YES YES, she’s like all I can write really 5. what’s your favorite thing about them? How dynamic she is
Z: Zebra 1. what’s their favorite animal? Black Lions 2. do they like animals? Yes 3. cats or dogs? Cats 4. what’s their dream pet? I’m sure if she wanted it she’d have it
5. do they have any pets at the moment? oooh, just a certain puppy Tagged by: @animus-inspire (for messaging me this mess) Tagging: ALL OC’S PLEASE
#Muse#animus-inspire#Quiz#Finally!#*pant pant pant*#TW: Vomit#(why the heck is this question even in here? xD)#26 letters never felt so long
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