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the-last-cuddlebender · 4 years ago

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I wish you would write a fic where Aang is just flustered and is amassed at katara while she’s just doing nothing ❤️maybe after the balcony kiss (btw your my favorite fic writer 💕)

*smacks table* *kicks a chair over* *screams into the void*

(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) NO YOU’RE MY FAVORITE, ANON😤❤💕💖

Ngl tho, this prompt and one other have been haunting me for so long oml I just for the longest time drew complete blanks like...just nothing came to me. Nada. I even tried getting a legit 12 straight hours of sleep to turn my brain off and back on again but nOpE. I really wanted to keep it related to after the balcony kiss since I wanted the challenge, but gosh did it fight me. My brain go poof I hope you’re happy for making me question everything, Anon lol

Anywho, I love and cherish you, Anon, you bean, you godsend, you magnificent angel, you🥰~ I hope you enjoy the fic!!!

Words: 1,785

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Aang kneaded his right thumb into his left palm. The scars there were small and white and hardly noticeable unless he held his hand right to his face.

It was peculiar, to say the least. Only the hand that received Ozai’s lightning bore a shadow of his opponent’s cold fire. The belly of his palm was a memory of death barely avoided, but he tried (...tried…tried very, very hard...) to imagine the milky pattern on pale skin as looking like a leaf’s veins when held up to the sunlight.

Aang rolled his lip between his teeth. He was going to tear something if he crouched for much longer. The scars burned without burning, and he wasn’t sure which fate was worse. Was it even considered a scar if it was never open? It was just there after the battle like it was a maker’s mark on a finished piece.

Katara would know—there was little that she didn’t know—, but she had been far too exhausted for him to even consider asking—

Katara...

Aang’s face burned like the fire she lit in his cheeks was eternal.

If he was perfectly honest, he didn’t remember feeling the kiss.

He only remembered how the kiss felt.

Because remembering the moment when Katara redefined what happiness felt like was a moment Aang would never forget.

His shoulders rose to his ears; his face smoldered as giddy magma crawled up his neck. He teetered to one side when thoughts of her shifted gravity. Maybe it was a good thing that he was crouching, after all.

Katara…

...But then he looked at his estranged left palm and the new maker’s mark that it bore.

...And his heart crisped and flaked into ashes piling in the pit of his chest.

The scarring changed nothing but uprooted everything. It was a cancer, black and numb on his hand, like it was suffering from frostbite and needed to be removed.

The estranged left palm that saved his life was the same hand Katara held—all those months ago—when they kissed that day in the dark, trapped and alone, in an inky-black Earth Kingdom cave.

The kiss was a gentle waltz turning into a speedy tango, but her hand on his was the tug to lift him out of his chair. It was the strike of flint and steel that burned away the cobwebs in his heart and brushed aside all dust to welcome something new.

...Katara...

Sokka had interrupted before Aang could ask her to be his girlfriend. Time was an illusion, but time was precious. Memories framed in moments were the beginnings of beautiful new somethings.

What they were, though...

He really hoped Katara knew better than him. Of course, she would—there was little that she didn’t know.

Did the kiss make it—them—official? They said more in words unspoken than words said aloud ever could, but they hadn’t had a moment of peace since then. Surely, he had to ask her. He really, really wanted to, too. It didn’t feel right to celebrate an anniversary without a proper date—Spirits, he and Katara were gonna have an anniversary, oh Spirits—

Aang’s palm stared back at him. Embarrassment hit him like a skybison at full-speed.

Katara had nearly killed him during the meeting that morning.

Holding his hand—that hand—under the table was toying with whatever gave his heart reason to beat.

Aang had hugged her times a-plenty, but he had never held her hand in that way for that long. It eclipsed their kiss and left him powerless like a suddenly doused fire.

...It had felt like he was poisoning her—like he was touching her with an open wound.

Aang slumped a little more in the corner of the balcony and stared at his callouses like they could tell him what to do.

The sunset was a smirk mocking his plight, but the moonrise was a gentle grin trying (...trying…trying very, very hard...) to heal his hurts.

Katara hated holding his hand. He felt that she did. She muted the room for him when she touched him; it brought her every reaction into stark relief. He had briefly wondered if that was what Toph felt like when she sensed when someone was lying.

Katara had stiffened. She even shifted like she couldn’t get comfortable. The breath that left her was fast at first like she was just told bad news. Her exhales after that were deep and almost seething.

...The worst part was when she wouldn’t look at him. She only glared about and around them.

Aang slumped from his crouch until his rear hit the ground. His right thumb stayed married to his left palm, and the white lightning stung tender like something freshly burned. He only partially wished that he had the top of his robes on when the thought of her regretting him cut the strings that held him together; he was a puppet collapsing against the balcony wall and sliding down gritty concrete. His scar—another reminder of her—stung him like smacks to the face and melted him into something made of noodles.

The moon was a bit higher, now, but its grin wasn’t any more reassuring than before. The bugs and small critters must have become annoyed with his melting because there was silence like Hei Bai’s forest when Aang made himself smaller than his shadow and dragged his kneading hand even closer to his face.

Their kiss—she had kissed him—barbed him with a sting like thorns on a rose bush except laced with poison and fiberglass. It was decaying from the start of something new into the empty longing for a once in a lifetime occurrence.

Something shot him in the leg and crippled what made him Aang.

His right thumb kneading his left palm slipped and dug a fingernail into a callous.

He was goo freezing over—a body consumed by jennamite.

Aang breathed out, about to take the inhale to fuel the first hiccup dancing on his shaking lip—

—but then Katara stepped onto the balcony and leaned up against the bars.

Being an airbender had its perks, and his lungs not popping from the force and fullness of his panicked inhale was definitely one of them. He was a statue—a deformed gargoyle that looked more horrific to behold than to cross—, and the glimpse of Katara’s soft grin became a braided noose refusing to let him exhale.

None of the lights were lit.

Spirits, did he love his moonrise and the weakness that she gave him.

Katara was staring into something that didn’t exist on this plane and smiling at something he couldn’t see. She was a stilled lake normally raging and powerful and beautiful to behold. He wouldn’t dare disturb her. She was as calm as a reflection.

Sudden exposure reminded him of stepping into a forbidden part of the Southern Air Temple, and his presence became a violation of something precious. Katara was remembering moments of beautiful new somethings if the way she absentmindedly bent a stream of water about one wrist—her bending her joy unhindered—was anything to go by.

Aang blushed a shade of red that Aunt Wu could have mistaken as the intended location for eruption from the Symbol of Volcanic Doom. He closed his eyes, covered his ears, and dared to shimmy into the shadow of the corner. Katara was a warrior unmatched and without equal. That’s why she was Master Katara. He could no sooner escape her than escape the earthshaking hammer-blows that the hint of her smile drove into his chest.

He sat on a tightrope whose cables were snapping and unwinding.

It was only when he felt weaker in a way that made him stronger that he peaked an eye open.

Katara was crouched and more concerned than bemused. “Aang?” She touched the knee that had curled to his chest and was threatening to buckle into his sternum. “Are you okay?”

…’Okay’ was a subjective and circumstantial term.

His voice was the sound of rubber sliding water off of wet glass. “M-hm.”

“What are you doing out here alone and...in the corner?”

“Well, I was just...Well, y’know…” His right thumb stuck to his left palm like they were nailed together. He tried (...tried...tried very, very hard...) to hide his wound from her. “Moon ‘s nice ‘n…’n stuff.”

Katara mulled over his words, said and unsaid. Her stare was an examination checking his vitals—his heart, his soul, and his happiness. She hummed a thoughtful sound that bookmarked her place in the pages of him.

It all happened in under the time it took her to breathe. Aang nearly stopped breathing altogether when she tapped her finger on his knee.

“You’re hiding on the balcony because ‘Moon ‘n stuff’?”

“...Yes?”

She spared his ‘hidden’ fiddling hands a half-lidded glance. “Aang...”

“What?”

Katara flicked his arrow. Then, she waited.

Aang didn’t crack. He melted.

“I was just—I thought…” He deflated. “I needed somewhere to think.”

Something about his words or the way that he said them made every bit of her soft. Her concern riddled him with holes, and, when she settled on the ground before him and propped her head on her arms on his knees, there was barely any of him left to keep him together.

“You wanna talk about it? It’s okay if you don’t. I just haven’t seen that look on your face since...Well, I can’t remember since when.”

One part of Aang threatened to grab the other part of him and throw him into a volcano.

He was making her worry. He should never make her worry, especially over something so silly—

He opened his mouth but hesitated. He didn't want to say no.

“Not—Not now.”

His honesty tamed her like she could feel it as easily as a temperature change. “It’s not something hurting you, right?”

Yes.

“No.”

Katara frowned with her eyes.

Then, she stood.

(Spirits, Aang loved his moonrise.)

“Take my hand.”

Aang’s heart took a trip to the tiny star just to the right of the moon.

She looked at him, and he felt hot cinders flake from his face and into his twisting belly. It sparked a fire so hot that it turned his sea of chi into an ocean of molten ore.

He was suddenly empty of something and filled to the brim with something else.

Katara’s hand was an invitation without equal, and the instinct to grab hold and never let go was a god’s hand trying to push him forward.

He almost did.

But then his right thumb paused on his left palm, and white lightning struck him down.

Katara flinched like she felt it.

Aang curled into a knot like he could still hide it.

Kneeling, Katara unraveled him without touching him. Her eyes found his and held him in place not like in a trap but like in a hug. Too soon his right thumb was hushed away from his left palm and his estranged hand was held close to her face.

Aang couldn’t remember hearing her words, but he felt what she was saying.

Her sorrow nearly tore him apart.

Luckily, her smile kept his shredded heart together.

And the kiss to his white lightning and the three points of his hand’s arrow put air back into his lungs. He dove into the cool-blue look she gave him and drowned himself in all that she was.

He was filled with clouds so puffy that they threatened to let loose their rain, but his eyes became only wet and never misty. He smiled beyond the limits of what anatomy allowed when her face turn as red as his felt.

She said something that put his pieces back together, and she looked at him with something that gave him the strength. Cherry-red metal poured from a kiln and wept up her neck and into her cheeks.

Katara rolled her eyes to something that wasn’t there, disappeared inside, and returned with a mass of blankets.

“What are all the blankets for?”

“Moon ‘n stuff,” Katara said as she finished her nest of comforters and fortified quilt walls.

Then she offered her hand again—she slipped it loosely into his own and waited for him to hold her first.

“Sit with me.”

Aang shouldn’t have been as giddy as he was, and Katara pursed her smile like she was struggling not to enjoy his happiness too much when she tugged him up from the ground and laid with him against cushioned concrete.

Moon ‘n Stuff was laughing and pointing out funny bits in constellations of their own designs. It was gossiping all the good rumors and their hopes about which of them might be true.

Katara crowned him King of their Chateau of Comforters with the softest blanket she had. It was blue and smelled like mornings when he could sleep in and like the small joys of finding warm things in cold places.

Katara accepted his invitation into his Blanket Castle within their Comforter Chateau. The blanket was plenty big for both of them and tied them together in a fuzzy cocoon.

She relaxed against him like she was sinking into warm water. The air that left her was fast at first like she just saw something she dearly missed. Every exhale after that was slow and satisfied—drunk on the indescribable and bewitched by the unimaginable. Aang felt her every movement so clearly that he wasn’t sure whether to give thanks or repent for the precious moment she was creating with him.

But then she shifted like she couldn’t get comfortable enough.

And she dragged an eye open to glare at any critter’s sound breaking their peace.

That was when Aang understood.

That was also when Aang lost it.

The urge to laugh was so overwhelming that it didn’t process into the bodily function, instead filling him from toe to brim with small giggles and soft feelings.

Katara didn’t want to share.

Of course, she didn’t.

Their moments were their moments, and he was hers and hers alone.

Master Katara was a being without equal, but Aang knew that which even she didn’t know.

Don’t worry about them. It’s just you and me right now.

Aang’s confidence limped back to him and convinced his estranged left hand to sidle towards hers. He touched the back of it with two fingers—an almost mute invitation, an almost silent knock on the door.

Katara laced her fingers with his like it was the most natural thing in the world. She handled it not like it was something wounded but like it was something precious, and she kissed all of his knuckles before cooling his white lightning with the gentle touches of her snowy-soft palm.

The hands were the most sacred part of a bender. They were the outlets from which their soul leaked. They were the culmination of all of their senses to interact with the world.

Aang’s world shyly smiled and fiddled with her hair. She shifted like she couldn’t decide on which spot against him or which way to hold him would bring them as close as she wanted.

She wouldn’t even look at him for fear of changing color and state of matter from beautiful young woman to gorgeous little puddle.

She blushed like something beautiful coming into bloom.

Then, she said something.

Her words bypassed all feeling and branded themselves onto his heart

“...want to be my boyfriend? O-Only if you want to...because I want to, so...um...”

She inhaled on the word like she was telling good news and hoping for the universe to talk back to her.

Aang’s current incarnation threatened to be kicked out from under him and reborn into the Water Tribes.

His head nodded like it was trying to make a break for it.

Katara laughed like it was the only language she knew.

They shared each others’ smiles in a shy kiss that felt like a brushing of souls—like the gentle zap of lightning between earth and sky that brought beauty and shook all that they knew but brought with it no scars or destruction.

She squeezed his hand.

He kissed her again just because he could.

White lightning and snowy-soft touches connected what made them each other.

Aang wilted like soggy grass, full of that which gave him life and drunk on all that she gave him.

His hand didn’t hurt anymore. His heart was starting to ache, though. It was going to burst if he looked at her for much longer.

His night got darker when Katara closed her eyes, but he welcomed the weakness his rising full moon gave him.

She fell asleep against his side, and even when Aang no longer felt his arm, he didn’t dare move.

The balcony was empty except for them, and his heart was full of only her.

Katara mumbled once, shifted twice, and adjusted her grip to hug the whole of his arm.

She was hardly doing anything, but her doing nothing did everything to him.

Aang’s courage found him just as Katara found her new favorite spot.

He kissed her cheek, but, if he was being honest, he didn’t remember feeling the kiss.

“...I love you.”

He only remembered how her smile felt.

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I hope you enjoyed, Anon! I know this isn’t Katara doing “nothing”, per se, but this is what my mush-brain put down when I sat and wrote😅 (I did, however, tuck that little ”doing nothing” idea away for different ficlet👀)

#kataang #Aang #Katara #avatar the last airbender #atla #balcony kiss #lightning scars #insecure aang makes my heart bleed #hand holding is so incredibly underrated #blanket fort on a balcony is my ideal Friday idk about anyone else #kataang ask to be boyfriend and girlfriend #I think about ozai's lightning a LOT #cuddles and nonsense becomes sometimes the sweeties sweet just for sweetness’ sake #trying a different style? me? I figured why not😁#i rewrote this fic so many times and kindof ended up stitching together the two versions i liked most...hopefully you cant see the seams lol #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANON ILY BB🥰🥰😘😘❤️❤️#fic request #answered #myfanfictiontag #post #AND BTW #IF YOU THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO MISS THE OPPORTUNITY FOR CHRISTMAS/HOLIDAY THEMED ONESHOTS #THINK AGAIN #I might start taking prompts out of order if I get stumped on one bc not completing anything for like a week left me STARVED😭

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frenemies-to-lovers · 4 years ago

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I Can Wait | Cardan POV Missing QoN Scene

A short Cardan POV in which we find out where he slept while Jude was recovering during QoN. Also, a conversation between Cardan and the Bomb, who absolutely knows exactly what is going on.

---

Having delivered The Ghost into the Bomb’s custody, and having confirmed with my guard that the queen has retired to the royal rooms, I find myself settling at the head of the enormous strategy table with a pot of tea. . . and a goblet of wine. I had hoped to bring Jude to see the strategy room, along with the rest of the new Court of Shadows, but there hadn’t been time. Of course Jude would immediately redirect every half-formed plan of mine from the moment she had been up and walking again. It’s what she does best, taking the reins and steering my life in whichever direction she deems fit.

(Read on AO3)

I hadn’t thought I could have been more relieved to see her getting herself entangled in the middle of court politics than I had been when she snuck into my chambers and, without so much as a hello, launched into plans to thwart Balekin and Orlagh after having been returned from the Undersea. But seeing her up and in the middle of court business again today, after having seen her wounded and bleeding and so near to death, was its own kind of magic. I feel like I am able to let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding for quite so long.

I take a sip of wine and press my hand to my face where she slapped me. There’s no visible wound anymore, but it is still a little tender to the touch. A physical reminder that it had actually happened, that she is awake and alive and feeling enough like herself to be angry at me. I hadn’t expected to be so overwhelmed by seeing her storming around the gardens, full of fire. But after haunting the royal chambers for days and seeing nothing but her too-still unconscious body and her occasional restless dreams, being slapped felt like a relief.

I know she doesn’t trust me, and that she may not trust me for a very, very long time. But she hadn’t pulled away when I reached for her hand. I try not to think too hard about the way it felt to have her walk through the halls by my side, as my queen. And as I take another long sip of wine, I try very hard not to think too much about her sleeping in my bed.

After some time, The Bomb comes in and takes a seat, her chair pulled far enough back that she can prop her feet on the table. She gives me a knowing look from the corner of her eye.

“Are you sleeping in the spymaster’s quarters again tonight? There’s a whole palace that belongs to you, you know. And some royal rooms that, although they are very well guarded, I think you could manage to sneak into,” she suggests, not facing me but giving me a sly smile nonetheless.

“Just because she is my wife doesn’t mean she wants me sneaking into her room. . .”

“Your room,” she cuts me off with a wink. Did I really just refer to the royal chambers as Jude’s room?

“The room where she’s sleeping,” I amend. “And... bothering her. Especially while she’s still healing from a sword fight with her redcap father. And then a subsequent fall from the rafters during an ill-conceived plan that was meant to protect me.”

“You two need to talk,” she sighs, exasperated.

I like that she speaks to me this way. Having been first Dain’s spy, and then Jude’s, she does not speak to me as a courtier would. I usually like her lack of deference, but her current directness has reminded me of everything Jude and I did discuss today. And how suspicious Jude may always be of my intentions. Deservedly so.

“We did talk,” I say sullenly, and realize that my wine is gone. Reminding myself that no good has ever come of allowing myself to indulge too much, I start on the tea. I wish I enjoyed it as much as the wine. “She is angry with me. And I can’t say I blame her. And did I mention the part where she nearly died. . . very recently?”

The Bomb is still looking at me expectantly. She is a good spy. Observant. I assume she had noticed my worry and my pining during the time Jude was prisoner in the Undersea. Even if she hadn’t, she had been the first person to find me after Jude, pretending to be Taryn, had been taken by Madoc. She had seen all of my panic. My rage. My desperation. It would have been obvious to anyone at that point, but my feelings for Jude were especially obvious to The Bomb. Especially after I had consulted with her over and over about the kinds of things she thought Jude might want to include in the new Court of Shadows. Especially after I had sent her off to assist Jude rather than remain with me while I was actively dying from Balekin’s poisoning.

The silence stretches on. And on.

“You can stop looking at me like that. I am not sneaking off to press my luck with Jude while she is both injured and angry. Perhaps she will decide that ruling Elfhame alone is preferable to having to rule by my side. She is more than capable of killing me with her bare hands, and I have given her good reason to do so. I’m not certain I’m ready to provide her with the opportunity.” I might not mind her hands around my throat, but I’m trying to prioritize making her place as Queen feel secure over any of my ill-conceived desires. As potent as those desires may be.

The Bomb sighs as she drops her feet from the table. “Very well, Your Majesty. I have done all I can to speed Her Majesty’s healing. She did seem more recovered today than I expected -- especially for a mortal.”

I think I want everyone to refer to Jude as Her Majesty at all times in my presence. I like the way it sounds.

“I am certain we will all be relieved when our true spymaster is back in charge,” I manage to say in response.

She makes her way to leave, but pauses at the door. “I have heard that Grima Mog knows a bit about healing elixirs -- a handy thing to know when you spend much of your time in battle. Although no one can help with Jude being angry, perhaps she can be of assistance with her recovery.”

With that, she leaves me to my thoughts and my tea.

I stay for a long time, finishing the pot of tea and trying to unravel my thoughts, wondering how I can prove to Jude that I never wish for her to fear cruelty from me again. No answers come other than that she will need time to heal from the blows I have dealt as surely as she needs time to heal from her physical injuries. If I am lucky, she will recover swiftly from both. If not, I will wait. I can wait for her to be ready to forgive me.

I eventually leave the Court of Shadows and retire to the adjoining rooms, which the Bomb refers to as the spymaster’s chambers. I had them prepared for Jude, should she choose not to reside in the royal rooms. I had tried but could not find a way to connect her existing rooms to the new Court of Shadows.

I stretch out on one side of the bed, picturing Jude in the space next to me. I remember the way we had tangled together in our exhaustion after exchanging our vows, lying together in the bed where she now sleeps. I close my eyes and remember her head on my shoulder, her hand resting lightly on my chest. Did she trust me then, only for me to ruin it?

To be fair, she had just murdered my brother and conveniently not deigned to mention it.

I try to shove the uncomfortable thoughts away and get back to the memory of waking with her in my arms. But in my mind all I can see is the look in her eyes when she had slapped me, all fury and indignation. The look on her face when she told me she feared what I would do to her next. The way I could practically see her mind flitting through every unkind thing I had ever done to her. I find that, although they are not particularly comforting images, I am glad they have replaced the visions that have plagued me for days: her body plummeting from the rafters, her body in a pool of her own blood, her body lying motionless in my bed as I uselessly try to clean the blood from her hands.

I fall asleep still touching the sore spot on my cheek.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this little scene that I could not get out of my head. This is legit the first time I’ve written fanfiction in over a decade, and I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing. Which is why this was half-assedly posted from mobile last night for about an hour.

#tfota fanfic #tfota #qon spoilers #qon #qon missing scene #pov cardan #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #the queen of nothing

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lochrannn · 3 years ago

Link

Warnings: Sexual Content (M Rating)

Characters: Lila Pitts; Diego Hargreeves; Allison Hargreeves; Klaus Hargreeves; Hargreeves Siblings (background)

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Roommates AU; Fake Marriage; Slow Burn; Mutual Pining; Emotional H/C

Chapter 3/?

They end up avoiding each other for days. From what she can tell, Diego spends barely any time in the flat at all. She suspects he’s not even sleeping in his own bed most nights. And so she’s effectively all alone, except for the couple of days she goes to work in a small café, a job she basically does to keep busy, not because she actually needs the money.

On the first day she thinks she might find somewhere else to live, half out of wounded pride and half because she feels a bit guilty for apparently making Diego practically move out. But who is she kidding, money isn’t the obstacle in this city, the fucking housing market is. There’s no way she’d find a place like this, with a roommate who does his part to keep the place clean, has, so far, never brought people over, and in fact spends most of his time at work and out of the house, anyway.

And Lila liked– no, likes Diego.

In hindsight, the worst she can accuse him of is that he put his foot in it when he had ultimately been trying to do the right thing… if very badly. Apart from that he’s generally easy going, if a bit stressed out about work, from what she can tell, and… well… a lot of fun in some respects. He also really seems to care about people. He mentioned a brother one time, who he seems to look out for a lot, though he didn’t say it in so many words.

And the other night when she left her room after their argument, and the flat was completely empty, she found her abandoned sandwiches covered by an upturned bowl, and the considerate gesture made her feel even more foolish about how she’d blown up at him.

So yeah, she won’t be moving, but she does hope that things can just go back to normal between them, that she can at least feel relaxed at home, living with someone who she casually gets along with, who doesn’t hate her, and if that’s what it takes, she’ll even do her best to stop remembering what his lips feel like all over her body.

Lila’s a bit at sea in her life. She’s recently given up halfway through a post grad history programme and she doesn’t quite know what she wants to do now. And the long days doing very little, only broken up by the occasional hours working in the café and getting to deal with the full force of the public make for a very effective insomnia cocktail.

So Lila gets up in the middle of the night to make herself some chamomile tea.

The kettle has just boiled and she’s pouring the hot water over the tea bag in her mug when she hears Diego quietly come in through the front door and only making it to the couch before sitting down with a near silent sigh.

She really hopes, for all the trouble it ended up causing them last time that he’s not going to whip out his dick again.

She takes a cautious look out into the living room and spots Diego sat on the couch, leaning forward with his hands buried in his hair, shoulders hunched over and looking tense.

On a whim, Lila grabs another mug and tea bag, fills it with more of the hot water from the kettle and then picks up the two mugs and carries them out into the sitting room.

She’s not actually being particularly stealthy, but it seems Diego’s wrapped up in his own head, because he doesn’t notice her until she sits down on the edge of the sofa, leaving a respectful bit of distance between them, and he startles out of his hunched position and looks up at her warily.

Lila does him the favour of ignoring the brightness of his eyes and the way the corners of his mouth are drawn downwards, and instead holds out one of the mugs towards him and asks, with true sincerity, because this could be her chance at things going back to normal, “Tough day?”

Diego stares at her for a very long moment, not even studying her, just staring straight into her eyes, and in the end Lila sighs and is just about to put the mug on the coffee table in front of them, when Diego’s hand shoots out and he takes it off her.

“Yeah…” he says quietly while holding the steaming hot tea in both hands, elbows resting on his knees. He doesn’t take a sip though, he just stares into the gently swirling tendrils of steam.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lila asks carefully.

Diego gives her a sideways look, almost as if to gage her sincerity and then stares back at his mug.

“D’you think it would help?” he asks back. It seems like he’s both resigned to the idea that it wouldn’t, but almost hopeful she’ll say it will.

“Only one way to find out,” Lila offers with a shrug.

It’s ridiculous, really, how the tiny upwards quirk of the corner of his mouth affects her.

Diego pauses nevertheless and Lila waits him out. It’s not like she has anything better to do.

Then he sighs heavily and says in a low voice, “Had to tell a mom who hired me to find her runaway daughter that her kid got killed in a car crash six months ago…”

Lila watches Diego rub his thumb over the droplets of condensation on the outside rim of the mug and doesn’t really know what to say to that, so she goes with the first thing she can think of.

“That fucking sucks!”

Diego makes a noise that’s halfway between a harsh laugh and a sniff and just says, “yeah.”

They sit like this for a while, neither speaking, just sipping their slowly cooling drinks until Lila breaks the silence.

“What would you have done if you’d found the girl and she hadn’t been dead?” It’s an odd question, she knows, so she does understand why he turns to look at her quizzically, but it makes her almost squirm under his scrutiny nevertheless, so she starts explaining, “I ran away from home once…” but she doesn’t know how to finish the thought.

Lila ran away from home when she was sixteen and she hated everything about her life with her adoptive mother. Absolutely every single one of her material needs had been met and yet she had felt so lonely and so unloved that she had thought then, she’d rather live in squalor with just a scrap of affection from anybody than spend another day in that big empty house of her mother’s.

Diego stops staring at her and instead turns his attention back to his mug again, slowly moving it around in between his hands.

“I’d have asked the kid what she wanted to do next, that was the deal her mom and I had.” He turns to look back at Lila and holds her gaze. “She came to me, telling me her daughter ran away when they were living in a bad situation with the kid’s stepdad, but that she’d managed to get away from him now. I checked up on that info and it seemed legit, so if I’d found her daughter alive, I would have told her that her mom was looking for her and where she could find her… Shit didn’t work out that way though.”

He casts his eyes down to where Lila is fiddling with her own mug. She wonders for a moment how her life would have gone if someone like Diego had come looking for her instead of one of her mother’s semi-legal contacts.

Diego looks back up at her and something changes in his expression and Lila only notices that some of the tears that she could feel brimming in her eyes must have slipped out, because he lifts his hand up to her face and brushes over one cheek and then the other.

Lila makes a tiny noise that’s a bit of a gasp and a bit of a sob and she doesn’t know if it’s because of her own sadness or his gentle touch.

Diego’s hand lingers for a short moment on the side of her face and then he pulls it away abruptly, turns away from her, and facing forwards again he says tensely, “Uh, sorry for ruining your night with my sob-stories.”

The shift in the mood is too rapid for Lila to react and Diego must take her lack of a response as tacit agreement because he goes on, suddenly not able to look at her, “Yeah, uh, it’s pretty late anyway… are you done with that? I can take it to the kitchen with mine,” he asks carefully taking her empty mug out of her hands and then getting up off the couch at the carefully calculated speed that doesn’t quite look like he’s fleeing, but it’s also very clear that he’s trying to get away as quickly as possible, and heads back towards the kitchen.

Lila has no idea what just happened.

Diego’s lying awake in his bed.

The apartment is completely quiet, he’s had a whole mug of fucking herbal tea, and when he walked in through the door he felt like the only thing he could do at that point was sleep, but of course now he’s wide awake.

He doesn’t allow his thoughts to drift to Julie Brown and her mom because that’s just too devastating. He was only the messenger, he barely knows Ms. Brown, it’sjust one of those small tragedies that happen all the time all over world, and yet he feels like if he thinks about the lost opportunities and the terrible fucking timing of it all, he might just shatter.

But where his thoughts do drift isn’t actually that much better.

He did it again. Somehow he upset Lila again, even though all she’d tried to do was be a decent roommate, maybe even a friend to him. And if he could only keep his hands off her for five minutes, respect her fucking boundaries, maybe they still have a chance at some kind of cordial relationship.

Diego moves angrily about, trying to find a comfortable position. He punches his pillow to get it to co-operate but when he settles down he still doesn’t find sleep.

Consequently he is still as tired as last night when he drags himself out of his room and into the kitchen in the morning, and absolutely nothing could have prepared him for what he walks in on.

Lila is there.

As is Allison… as is Klaus.

His two siblings are currently arguing over something that Diego is too stunned to tune in to and he quickly glances at Lila to see that she’s watching their back and forth with amused bewilderment.

For a second he has to quell the urge to pinch himself to check he’s not wondering around a very strange dream, but then Klaus spots him in the door and claps his hands once and then says in that never quite sincere tone of his, “Oh Diego, wonderful to see you and how nice of you to join us! Want some coffee? I made some coffee!”

His brother swivels around in the small kitchen as if looking for something, and apparently Lila catches on because she turns to a cabinet above her head, pulls out a coffee mug, and as she moves back around to hand it to Klaus, their eyes meet. Traitor, Diego think and almost as if she can hear his thoughts, she gives him a half smile and a tiny shrug, and suddenly Diego’s stomach swoops and can feel heat creep up his neck. He hopes his siblings don’t embarrass him in front of Lila. Which is ironic, seeing as he’s been doing a damn good job of that himself.

Of course he has no such luck.

“Ok, I’m in a hurry,” Allison says tersely, looking at her wrist watch and then crossing her arms.

“Diego, we’re here because this is unbearable to watch. Clearly you are in debt, when you absolutely do not need to be. So once again, I’m asking you as nicely as possible: Would you please for the love of god, accept your fucking inheritence?” Her volume gets increasingly louder and by the end she’s thrown her hands up in exasperation. “I mean, you’re a thirty year old man with a failing business and you’ve had to resort to taking a roommate!” She adds a bit more calmly, “No offense, Lila!”

“None taken,” Lila says. But Diego notes that there’s a tiny edge to her voice that indicates she may have taken some offense. Diego can’t blame her.

“Jesus, Allison, it’s not the fucking nineties. Loads of people, in their thirties, live in shared accommodation, don’t be such a snob!” Diego is absolutely not in the mood for this ambush and he almost doesn’t care at this point if they end up having their weekly family argument in front of LIla. “Anyway, I renounced my inheritance!”

“Yes, and it was all very dramatic!” Allison adds, sarcasm in her voice. “But then your share reverted to us and we all agreed we’d hold onto it until you come to your senses, so just take the damn money, Diego!”

“I’ve told you before, but I’ll happily tell you again, if I have to, I do not want the old man’s money! Give it to Klaus, if it’s burning a hole in your pocket, I’m sure he can think of more fun ways to spend it than on loan interest payments!” Diego stares down his sister, but out of his entire family, she is probably the one who has never once been cowed by his quick anger.

“Oh I absolutely would,” Klaus says chirpily into the tense stand off.

“Urgh, whatever!” Allison says with an eyeroll and then pulls her arms apart and turns to Lila to say politely, if not particularly warmly, “Lila, it was nice meeting you,” but Allison doesn’t let her answer before she starts making her way out of the kitchen.

She stops right by Diego and the genuinely gentle hand she lays on his arm is quite the contrast to what she says next.

“Do feel free to come crawling to me when you can’t stand the taste of instant noodles anymore.”

She then leans up and kisses his cheek before disappearing around the corner and before he can decide to call a snide comment after her, Klaus is in front of him, handing him the forgotten cup of coffee and then also leans in to give him a delicate kiss on the cheek and he says, “Don’t be a stranger, Diego!”

“What are you talking about, Klaus, you basically never get in touch with me!�� Diego responds with some genuine indignance, and a slightly dumb and puzzled expression passes over Klaus’s face and he says contemplatively, “Oh is that the case? Well, I’ll try and do better.” He pats Diego’s cheek, but in true brotherly fashion, it’s just a tiny bit too close to a slap, before following Allison out of the apartment.

When he hears the door shut, Diego suddenly remembers Lila and he turns back into the kitchen and for a second the words die on his tongue just from the way she’s watching him intently and with bright eyes.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, “Sorry about that! Siblings,” he shrugs uncertainly, “you know how that can be.

“I really don’t!” says Lila, her tone remarkably even, and Diego only realizes belatedly that there’s a tiny twitch to the corners of her mouth and it strikes him then that she’s trying not to laugh, “but that sure was educational!”

#otp: just be gentle #lila pitts #diego hargreeves #dielila #diego x lila #diego/lila #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #tua #the umbrella academy #fanfic #ongoing fic

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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Baby Let's Keep It Secret (Jan x Jackie) - Ortega

a/n: i speed-wrote this after being struck with inspiration and a new-found obsession with jankie, so enjoy!! i legit hate it more with every re-read though so i’m submitting before i honestly del-yeet it off the face of the internet. it’s a little piece within the strictly au-verse from one of the background couples’ points of view, and i’m planning to do more of these so keep a lil eye out! i hope u all enjoy anyway, and that u for all the love on chapter 4! it makes me dead happy xxxxxxxx

plot summary: “But now she’s here, on a wet, cold Monday morning, with no texts and no sign of Jackie and a heartbeat that belongs to a hummingbird. Jackie probably regrets everything and Jan has to spend the rest of the competition with her and it’s going to be unbearably awkward.”

***

Jan is the first to arrive at the church hall on Monday morning. It’s freezing, and she pulls her off-shoulder gym sweater over her wrists and fidgets with the sleeves. She both feels the cold and doesn’t. The racing that her pulse is currently doing serves as a heater, and she can’t stop pacing either. She thanks God that the film crew aren’t there this morning, because she doesn’t have very many coherent thoughts, never mind words.

They had won the first episode. Well. “Won” isn’t the right word, but they came top of the leaderboard, and the praise from the judges still rings in Jan’s ears if she thinks about it hard enough:

“The technical elements were all there, and Jan, that choreography was to die for, well done.”

“This partnership is gonna be one to watch, for sure, the chemistry between you two is just incredible!”

“This was a strong first week, keep this up, I can’t wait to see what comes next from you.”

“It was so full of fun and joy, such a cheeky routine and you both created so much tension, good job!”

Although instead of the joy they’d all sparked on Saturday night, instead they now all serve as a reminder as to what happened after that, and Jan feels her face flush hot as the embarrassment hits her all over again, fuck. Why does she have to be such an eager lovesick puppy all the goddamn time? It never ends well. Jan knows that, but she keeps repeating the same behaviour every time she gets a new crush and expects different results.

But Jackie is different. She’s a woman, at least, and that’s new for Jan. Jan’s used to either men- rough, heavy hands, too fast and too slow all at once- or girls- all her high-school experiences that she’s repressed and shoved in the back of a filing cabinet in her mind for future Jan to deal with.

Except they’ve all come bursting out at once like that scene in Bruce Almighty that used to make her laugh so much as a teenager. It was induction day, really, that had caused it all. Jan remembers standing on the opposite side of the room to Jackie Cox and trying not to make it obvious that her gaze was getting drawn to her every five seconds like she was a magnet, the black running leggings and cutout strappy sports bra she had been wearing still sending shivers up Jan’s spine if she thinks about them again. The way her heart had risen to the sky with anticipation and excitement was almost cringeworthy; she had truly felt like a schoolgirl with a crush on a teacher. Okay, Jackie isn’t that much older than her, but Jan knew her, of course she knew her. She is Jackie Cox. You can’t switch on the news without seeing her face, you can’t go on Twitter without seeing people retweet her latest biting bit of government-critical commentary that’s likely going to get her fired one day. Watching her chat with the other girls on that induction day was mesmerising- she was fun and goofy and had a big smile on her face the whole time but she simultaneously exuded a calm and self-assured sense of power that Jan had felt inexplicably intoxicated by.

They’d been paired together and Jan had been so nervous and anxious to impress her and get on well with her but Jackie had just been so relaxed and easy-going and had taken to everything Jan had taught her like a duck to water. When they’d been officially paired on launch night Jan had been so overjoyed that she’d screamed the place down.

And now they’re partners. For the past fortnight they’ve spent every waking moment together, and it’s been both a blessing and a curse. In rehearsals, Jackie is no-nonsense- she wants to learn the dance, and she wants to be taught- but every time they stop for a break Jackie’s goofing around and winding Jan up and pestering her to post this, that and the next thing to Instagram. The woman is limpet-levels of touchy, not that Jan’s complaining. She’s always resting a hand on Jan’s knee when they stop for a break, grabbing her arm as she laughs at something Jan’s said, gently butting her head against Jan’s shoulder when it’s late and they’re both tired but they just have to finish up this last little bit of the routine.

Of course, if Jan notices it with every hour they spend together, then it’s not long until it gets picked up on by others. They’ve gone live on Instagram one day and Jackie’s got her arm around Jan’s shoulders and Jan’s leaning into her. Jan can feel Jackie’s heartbeat and it’s going like a bullet train and Jan wonders if it’s her that’s making Jackie’s heart race as much as it is before dismissing that thought as the delusional ramblings of someone with a too-big crush. They’re answering questions that their fans have sent in and Jan taps on one a little deliberately.

“Jackie, what’s your favourite thing about rehearsing with Jan?” Jan reads, smiling with her tongue trapped between her teeth. She doesn’t dare turn to face Jackie because she can see on screen how close her face is to hers and she doesn’t need that proximity adding to the list of reasons Jackie’s able to mess with her head. Jackie’s looking at her though, and her smirk is so cheeky that it turns Jan’s insides to jelly.

“Uh, nothing, she’s dreadful,” Jackie says, causing Jan to yelp an affronted cry and Jackie to stick her tongue out at her. It’s near the end of their first week of rehearsals and it’s nice that they’re already at the stage that they can joke about in the way that they’re doing.

(Some might call it flirting, but Jan’s loath to get her hopes up so high.)

“No, I think in all seriousness it’s…her smile,” Jackie concludes, and the answer feels like the best kind of gut punch. Jan has to actively control her facial expressions and mold them into something that isn’t just two ginormous heart eyes and a dopey lovesick smile. The smile that Jackie likes the best. Jackie continues, her eyes now cast into her lap as she picks at a bit of fluff on her leggings. “She’s always smiling, she’s always positive. Even if I mess up the routine, she’s still smiling at me and patient with me. And it’s just nice. So…yeah.”

Jan can’t help herself. She turns to face Jackie, deliberately shoots her a dazzling smile. “That’s sweet. Thank you.”

Jackie gives her a little wink that translates to you’re welcome. Jan wants to interpret it as something more, but she can’t hope that much.

That’s when it starts. The first comment scrolls across the screen, then another, then another.

janetmanitoneeeee: omg u guys are too much

strictlyjan2003: something’s going onnnnnnnnn

janstan04: WE ALL SHIP IT

janstan04: JANKIE

Jan tries to ignore them all but they’re relentless and swarming across her screen like locusts, and Jackie points them out before she can do a thing about them.

“What the hell is Jankie? What ship?” she laughs, confused. Jan waves her hand dismissively, gives a snort.

“Oh, God, it’s like…they think we would be good together. Like. As a couple.”

“Oh,” Jackie raises her eyebrows. Jan is blushing slightly as she keeps her eyes trained on the screen. Jackie’s face is surprised, but not unpleasantly so. “So they want to see us bon-”

“Family show, Jaqueline!” Jan laughs, cutting her off before she can reach the end of her sentence. Jackie snorts and the conversation is dropped as they move on to something else.

But Jan wonders how the sentence would’ve ended. Scratch that, she knows how the sentence would’ve ended, and from that day on there’s a change in the atmosphere. Jackie doesn’t look at her the same but that’s not necessarily for the worse. Their routine ramps up a gear- it’s somehow just better. Well, not somehow, there’s a reason. It’s the same reason Jan can feel Jackie’s eyes on her whenever she stretches in rehearsal, whenever she peels a layer of clothing off in a break. It’s the same reason they’ve started openly flirting with each other, and Jackie’s little suppressed smile and raised eyebrows is what Jan imagines cocaine might feel like- she’s not done it, she wouldn’t know. Making Jackie laugh becomes an addiction, spending time with Jackie is an addiction. When Jan gets the tube back from Hounslow and arrives back at her flat all shrouded in darkness she feels as if there’s part of her missing. Which is ridiculous. They’ve only been paired together for a week. Admittedly in that short time there’s been a few tabloid articles about them, the speculation already beginning. Jan would be lying if she said she didn’t like it.

Through it all, they rehearse. They practise and practise until Jan’s muscles ache, because more time rehearsing means more time with Jackie and the more they rehearse means the better they get. It’s a win-win situation. So when they smash their routine on Saturday, really knock it out the park, and get (“Eight!” “Eight!” “Eight!” “Eight!”) 32/40, Jan’s head is spinning. On the floor they were electric and sexy and the sparks were practically flying off them, Jan didn’t imagine it. Jackie doesn’t take her hands off her once it’s done- a protective arm around her waist as they receive their critiques, her hand in Jan’s as they tear up the stairs and give their post-routine interview, both arms around her in a crushing hug after their scores are revealed. An arm around Jan’s shoulders as they weave their way backstage to yet another interview, a hand lazily pressed against her hip. The constant close proximity is making Jan almost lightheaded, and so when they’re finally alone Jan isn’t really thinking straight. That’s why she takes Jackie’s hand and tugs her towards her dressing room, laughing gently at the confusion painting her face.

“Jan, we’ve got to go back to makeup!”

“Just…c’mere!” she giggles, tugging on Jackie’s hand again. Jackie gives her a roll of her eyes and a long-suffering smile, and takes two steps forward to follow Jan into her dressing room. As soon as the door swings shut, Jan can’t control herself any longer and she immediately pulls Jackie in, one hand still tangled in Jackie’s and the other curled around her waist, and Jan is so close she swears she can pinpoint the moment Jackie’s pupils dilate.

“Oh,” Jackie murmurs. It’s nothing, a literal letter of the alphabet, but Jan swears it’s the hottest thing she’s ever heard. Jackie wets her bottom lip with her tongue. “So this is why we’re in your dressing room.”

“Uh-huh,” Jan nods quickly. Her heart gives a concerningly heavy thud as Jackie brings her free hand up to ghost over her neck and tangle in her hair, tousled and wavy for the routine, and Jan thanks Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus that it’s not in some intricate bun. There’s a pause where nothing seems to be happening except the two of them smiling at each other and waiting to kiss. Jan loves it, though, this kind of purgatory they’ve created, so she presses her body against Jackie’s as she drops her voice lower. “You were so good out there, fuck, you were amazing.”

Jackie tries and fails to conceal a smile. She drops her hand out of Jan’s grip and brings it up to rest at her waist. “Did you just bring me in here to compliment me, or are we going to kiss?”

“Fuck, please,” Jan breathes. It only takes that much for Jackie to instantly lean down and close the gap between them. It’s not enough and too much all at once, the tension that’s been building between them finally coming to a head and Jan feels like she’s melting, ice to Jackie’s fire. Her lips are soft and slick with the gloss that makeup applied before they went on stage and Jan is gripped with a sense of longing and wanting that’s so visceral it almost scares her. She pulls her body flush against Jackie’s own and she feels Jackie gasp against her lips. The noise only adds to how embarrassingly needy Jan’s becoming- she’s way too turned on already, shockwaves pulsing through her whole body. It’s a kiss, it’s nothing more than that, and yet it’s better than any sex Jan’s had with a man in her life.

Jackie pulls away. Jan whines, and it elicits a smug smile from the other woman. Jan doesn’t want to know how much of a mess she looks. If it’s half as much as how she feels, it’s going to be too telling. She takes Jackie by the wrist again, pouts as she tries to pull her in. Jackie doesn’t budge.

“Makeup,” she teases. Jan lets out a groan. She cannot go back and interact with other people right now. Her whole world is Jackie.

“Please, just two more minutes,” she begs. For a moment Jan thinks she sees a flash of lust in Jackie’s eyes. She takes the sign of weakness and runs with it, pushing her bottom lip out. “Please?”

“Fuck, Jan,” Jackie laughs, rubs the back of her neck and rolls her head to the ceiling. “You’re so gorgeous and it physically pains me to have to say it but someone’s gonna come bang on this door if we don’t get back soon.”

Jan sighs, doesn’t wipe the pout off her face. Jackie quirks a warning eyebrow at her in return.

“Stop being a brat, c’mon,” she warns her, and Jan would be lying if she said Jackie didn’t just make the whole situation worse.

Or better. Probably better.

They go to makeup and they get their smudges cleaned up and the foundation they’ve sweated off re-applied, and they head back to the studio to watch the final dance of the night, Crystal and Gigi’s. Jan cheers for her friend despite the fact the pair of them are so good at their frighteningly fast Samba that they threaten to topple her and Jackie off the top of the leaderboard. They don’t, but they come close (thirty-one), and as Jan claps she makes a mental note to step up her and Jackie’s choreography tomorrow. The pair of them don’t get another moment alone until they’ve cleaned all their makeup off and got changed back into their comfies ready to head home. Jackie swings by Jan’s dressing room as she’s packing up and Jan involuntarily blushes, remembering the last time they’d both been in this room a mere thirty minutes ago.

“Hey. Crushed it tonight,” Jackie smiles proudly, the praise lighting up both Jan’s face and heart.

“Yeah, we really did that, huh?” she returns her grin, looks to the floor with slight embarrassment. Jackie pauses before she speaks next.

“Well, guess I’ll see you Monday?”

Jan tries not to look disappointed, but really, the single logical brain cell she possesses scolds her, what the hell did she think was going to happen? Her smile becomes fake despite it not physically changing. “Yeah, sure!”

Jackie gives a small laugh. “Sure, Jan!”

Jan has to let out a small snort at that, and she risks meeting her partner’s eyes again. Jackie is hovering at the door.

“I’ll text you,” she smiles decisively, Jan’s hopes instantly being raised as she nods enthusiastically and waves goodnight.

But now she’s here, on a wet, cold Monday morning, with no texts and no sign of Jackie and a heartbeat that belongs to a hummingbird. Jackie probably regrets everything and Jan has to spend the rest of the competition with her and it’s going to be unbearably awkward. All Jan did on Sunday was choreograph their dance, the sexiest tango she could possibly manage, while replaying their kiss in her head and checking her phone obsessively. She feels like an idiot, even more so when Jackie bounces through the door and waves at her with a big grin on her face as if nothing has happened.

“Morning!” she sing-songs as she shrugs her jacket off and chucks her bag down underneath a pile of stacked chairs. Jan blinks at her, taken-aback. “How are you? Good day off?”

“Well, I mean. I was doing choreo, wasn’t exactly a day off,” Jan shrugs. She can’t help but be cold- Jackie is acting as if she’s got short-term memory loss, and it’s killing Jan along with the sweatpants that are slung low on Jackie’s hips and the baggy sweater that’s hiding her thin frame. The shift in tone seems to work and Jackie is looking at her through narrowed eyes, then laughing slightly.

“Shit, yeah, sorry I didn’t text. I honestly was wiped out yesterday, I did a stint on News 24 and then I had like an eight-hour nap in the middle of the day.”

Jan can’t help but quirk a smile at her. “Eight hours? That’s not a nap, that’s a full sleep.”

Jackie shrugs, and her dark eyes soften. Jan is reminded of looking into them on Saturday, her pupils wide and blown, and the memory almost gives her whiplash. “I am sorry, Jan, I can tell you’re mad at me.”

Jan gives a scoff of a laugh, tries to pretend she’s offended. “Mad? I’m not mad at you, God, I’m not…no, I’m chill. It’s fine.”

Jackie raises her eyebrows at her disapprovingly and it makes Jan’s stomach flip over and heat pool low in her stomach. “Yeah, you sound it. Okay, what’re we doing this week?”

Jan swallows before she speaks. “Uh, tango! I thought, y’know, the judges loved our chemistry so much last week so if we play on that it might get us good scores again.”

Jackie’s smile grows on her face and it makes Jan’s heart flutter in anticipation as she takes two steps closer to her. “Mm, good plan. Definitely not seeing an ulterior motive behind that at all.”

Jan is warming up to her but she wants to make Jackie suffer just a little so she flips her golden ponytail over her shoulder and turns away from her, fiddling with her phone and scrolling to the song she’s chosen. To her satisfaction, Jackie follows her over to the speaker near the raised little stage at the other end of the hall, jumps up so that she’s sitting on it and swings her legs. “What’s it to?”

Jan bites back a smile. “React.”

“As in Pussycat Dolls, React?” Jackie grins at her. Jan is fighting to hold back her smirk as Jackie inspects her nails. “That’s kind of ironic.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jan shrugs lightly, making to walk into the centre of the room when Jackie shoots a hand out and takes her by the wrist.

“Hey,” Jackie murmurs, pulling her close. Jan is standing right in front of her and Jackie’s knees are digging into her stomach a little, but she doesn’t mind. “I was thinking about you yesterday. I promise I didn’t forget about Saturday night.”

Jan raises her eyebrows in slight disbelief. She’s about to make some comment about not missing her enough to text her, but Jackie spreads her legs and guides her in between them so that they’re close. The action makes Jan’s eyes flutter shut in a heavy blink as she attempts to gather her thoughts. Jackie squeezes the hand she’s taken.

“You’re really cute,” Jackie says bluntly, and Jan feels the blush hit her face like she’s been slapped.

“You’re really cute,” Jan parrots back at her, her knees almost turning to jelly when Jackie reaches out and tucks a small strand of loose hair behind her ear. There’s a moment where they’re both just gazing into each others’ eyes, and Jan feels as if it’s straight out of a movie scene. Her heart almost hurts with how much she likes Jackie.

Jackie drops her voice low to a whisper, pulls Jan closer. “Can we kiss in a church?”

Jan feels like she’s just been shocked by a defibrillator. “Well. Jesus might be watching.”

“I’m sure he’ll allow it,” Jackie shrugs before tilting her head, sliding her hands onto Jan’s waist, and meeting her lips with her own. Jan melts into her slowly, refrigerated chocolate on a hot day. This kiss is different to the one they shared on Saturday night- they know it’s just them, and they know they have all the time in the world so they kiss as if time doesn’t exist. It’s so early that Jan can taste Jackie’s mint toothpaste, and the realisation makes her heart give a twinge of affection. Jackie does like her, and Saturday wasn’t a mistake, and the blood in her veins races in anticipation because something is happening between them and it’s more exciting than any glitterball trophy.

Jan breaks the kiss this time, the petty side of her still wanting the upper hand, but she doesn’t move her arms from their position looped around Jackie’s neck and resting on her shoulders. She doesn’t even try to conceal the smile that appears on her face as she watches Jackie’s eyes flutter open lazily, the moment so unexpectedly tender that it knocks her for six.

“Is this a thing now?” she finds herself saying before she can stop the words rushing out of her mouth, and she instantly wants to cringe. Too keen, too eager, too enthusiastic. Although the panic rising in her throat dissipates when Jackie tries to stifle a grin and fails.

“Fuck, we’re the worst kind of cliché. Strictly curse got us by week three,” she groans, tilting her head to the cracks in the ceiling. She brings her gaze back to look Jan in the eye, suddenly turning serious. “We’re going to have to keep this quiet, though. Not that I’m ashamed or anything, sorry, that came out wrong. I just don’t want anyone thinking this is some cheap stunt we’re using to get votes because it’s…more than that. To me, anyway.”

The affirmation Jackie’s just given her sends Jan’s hopes rocketing skywards and this time she doesn’t even try to lower them. The smile on her face turns scheming. “I can sneak around if you want, although I don’t know how easy it’s going to be for you to keep your hands off me, Miss Cox…”

Jan laughs as Jackie groans and shoves her away playfully. As much as Jan wants to pin her to the stage and smother her with kisses and maybe a little more (the thought of fucking in a church is too much to entertain at this particular moment), she straightens her posture decisively and grabs her phone.

“Right, we need to rehearse. Because the better we do in this competition, the longer you get to spend every single day with your hands all over me. And that’s just during rehearsals.”

Jan shoots Jackie a wink and Jackie laughs as she saunters across to the middle of the room to warm up.

If Jan’s got anything to do with it, they’re not going to be leaving the competition any time soon.

#rpdr fanfiction #jankie #jan sport #jackie cox #strictly au #lesbian au #baby let's keep it secret #ortega #s12

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angelic-holland · 6 years ago

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Stay At My Place // th x fem!reader

Miss Yer Kiss Part Two

Feel free to read Miss Yer Kiss! Feel free to leave comments or asks with feedback!

Warnings: smut, feelings, actual plot this time, nsfw, 18+ please

Word Count: 12k

Tom checked Instagram the next day, including your page. He was laying in his bed when he clicked your story. He gasped when he saw what was a spitting image of himself in pencil. He took a screenshot of it and almost posted it to his story but decided not to.

He remembered what you told him.

“Let’s agree on one thing. This is a one night stand, that’s it.”

He didn’t want it to be a one night stand. He’s had his share of one night stands, sure. But there was something different about you. Maybe it was your confidence, maybe it was the way you didn’t even care enough to leave your phone number. Maybe it was your tattoos and how he wanted to hear the story behind each and every one of them.

He decided to wait, see if you would DM him since you set out the “only a one night stand” pact.

He heard his doorbell ring and he got out of bed, he checked his phone, who was at his place at 10:30 at night?

He jogged down the stairs, opening the door.

“Hey mate,” Harry says, pushing his way inside.

“What’s up? Were you planning on coming over?”

“Nah last minute decision,” Harry says, walking up the stairs, Tom following.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Is she still here?”

“Who?”

“The girl you left the club with last night.”

“No she’s gone,” Tom frowns.

Harry flops down on the sofa, “oh good.”

“Why?”

“You’ve never been caught mid hook up before, by the paps I mean, mom almost had a fucking heart attack when she saw the pictures of you leaving the restroom of the club.”

“Wait why?”

“Cause she doesn’t know about your other hookups, she also wasn’t expecting pictures of her son with lipstick marks and sex hair leaving a fucking club bathroom.”

“We didn’t fuck in there.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Not like, not full sex, fuck off it doesn’t matter.”

“Sure, like the stories of people hearing her scream your name aren’t important.”

“Harry! Can it, not like it matters now.”

“Yeah? Do you even remember her name?”

“Course I do, it’s Y/N.”

He smiles, remembering how you made him work for it.

“Stop thinking about it you perv,” Harry says, tossing a pillow at Tom as he sits down.

“Shut up, she only wanted a one night stand so I’m gonna respect that.”

“Sure.”

“What?”

“You always catch up with them after the ‘one night stand’ and see if they want to go on a date, hook up again. It’s your thing.”

“My thing?” Tom scoffs, crossing his arms.

“Yeah.”

“Well whatever if she wants to talk to me she can DM me on Instagram or something.”

“No she can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you get legit thousands of DMs a day, probably more, you wouldn’t be able to see it.”

“I could search for it? Would that work?”

“Maybe.”

***

You’re lying in bed, suitcase packed for the flight you’ve got early tomorrow. You sigh, pulling out your phone. You know what you said. You know you should just forget about the possibility of seeing Tom again. Of interacting with him again. But you couldn’t get that night out of your head.

“It’s beautiful out,” you say, exhaling the smoke from your lungs.

“Not as-,”

“I swear if you finish that sentence I’ll leave right now,” you groan.

“Okay! I won’t, just, you look so pretty, the moon really lights up your tattoos, they look good.”

Any of your hook ups, you weren’t used to them complimenting you if that compliment wasn’t about loving your tits or something stupid. They never called you beautiful, like Tom was about to. Or pretty. You opened your Instagram, you decided the other day to post the picture you drew of Tom, even going so far as to tag him. Your eyes almost fell out of your head when you saw he liked the post.

Maybe, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to send him a message, he’d have a hard time finding it anyways with the probably hundreds of thousands of messages he gets.

You quickly send him a DM.

yourinstagramhandle: thanks for the like, you like the drawing?

You roll your eyes and send a text to Bryce, asking if he wants to go to your graduation.

You go back to Instagram and see you’ve got a DM from none other than Tom.

What the fuck.

***

“wait! She DMed me, holy shit,” Tom says, opening it.

He smiles and responds.

tomholland2013: thought it was okay

tomholland2013: I’m kidding I thought it was great

Yourinstagramhandle: well thanks

Tomholland2013: didn’t think I’d hear from you again

Yourinstagramhandle: almost didn’t DM you but decided I need validation

Tomholland2013: the sex or the drawing?

Yourinstagramhandle: you caught me… both

tomholland2013: well the sex was so good I want to see you again so there’s that. And the portrait is so good I want you to tattoo it on me

Yourinstagramhandle: well damn I’ll take it. Not a tattoo artist yet though, and getting a portrait of yourself tattooed, little self centered don’t you think?

Tomholland2013: just a tad bit.

Tomholland2013: are you still in town?

Yourinstagramhandle: leaving bright and early tomorrow for NYC

Tomholland2013: come over

Yourinstagramhandle: I can’t, I’ll be too busy giving you the time of your life I’ll miss my flight

Tomholland2013: that’s not necessarily a bad thing

Yourinstagramhandle: it is when I’ve got school, finals in two weeks and then I need to beg for a tattoo apprenticeship

Tomholland2013: they’ll be begging you to be their apprentice

Yourinstagramhandle: totally not how it works

Tomholland2013: I fly by New York end of May, can I see you then?

Yourinstagramhandle: sure you won’t have forgotten about me by then?

Tomholland2013: no, already miss your sex, don’t know how I’m gonna go two months without it

Yourinstagramhandle: we could always be horny teenagers and sext. Wanna see my tits?

Tomholland2013: right now?

Yourinstagramhandle: no in two months, yes right now

Tomholland2013: fuck yeah

Tomholland2013: wait send me ur phone number I don’t wanna accidentally save them and have them end up on my Instagram story or something

Yourinstagramhandle: not very good with technology?

Tomholland2013: nope

***

You giggle, pulling off your shirt, you weren’t wearing a bra, so you just waited for him to text you.

Unknown number: Y/N?

You: the one and only

Tom: great now show me your tits

You: I better get a picture of your hard cock immediately following

Tom: my brothers here!

You: kick him out or go to your room, my tits look pretty great right now

Tom: please send them, told him to get lost

You: where are you right now?

Tom: couch

You: take your cock out, play with it a little bit

You position yourself in front of the mirror, pinching your nipples a little so they harden before taking a picture and sending it to him.

Tom: holy fuck, missed ur tits so much

You: I’m waiting

You quickly strip your sweatpants and now soaked panties, laying back on the bed.

You groan at the picture he sends, his hard cock in his hand, thighs spread on his couch.

Tom: can I call u

You: Patience baby, one step at a time. Let’s just sext for now

You can practically hear his whine but you wouldn’t answer his call even if he did. You loved teasing him.

Tom: fuck, send me a picture of your pussy

You: why should I?

Tom: please, know you’re probably dripping for me, come on, lemme see it

You smirk, your fingers moving to lazily move through your folds, gently slipping into your hole, you take a few pics, choosing the best one to send to Tom.

Tom: holy fuck, you sure I can’t come over? Wanna eat your pussy so good

Although you’d love that, you knew it wasn’t possible. You sighed, responding to him as your thumb gently rubbed your clit.

You: positive, now be a good boy and jerk your cock for me until you make a mess

You smile, putting your phone down and fucking yourself down on your fingers.

****

“Shit,” Tom groaned, reading your text before his hand sped up. He closed his eyes, pretending it was your hand, pretending you were there with him.

He came embarrassingly quickly with a whimper of your name.

You: and I expect a picture of the mess

He groans, sending a picture of his stomach painted with his come and his softening cock, sending it to you.

You: beautiful

You send him a video a few minutes later.

He cleans his stomach off with a T-shirt before clicking play, feeling his cock twitch as it starts with you whimpering his name.

“Tommy,” you say, the camera angle showing your fingers fucking in and out of your pussy, making the most delicious sound. Your fingers speed up, thumb rubbing your clit as the only noise he hears is his name and the sound of your fingers fucking in and out of you.

You come with a grunt of his name, and he thinks the video is going to cut off but you trail your fingers from your clit up your body, stopping to make gentle circles around your nipples before sucking them into your mouth. He groans as the video stops, right as you moan around your fingers.

Tom: you’ll send me that and not let me come over?

You: gotta keep ya on your toes

Tom: trust me I most certainly am

He sighs, grimacing as he picks up his sticky shirt, tucking his cock back into his shorts.

Tom: we need to do this again

You: I fully intend on it

***

You make it to your flight, Lily talking nonstop the entire trip back to New York about Tom, about if you’re going to meet up with him. How good he was in bed.

“Listen, Lily, I love you, but give it a rest. I’m sure the rest of the people on the plane don’t want to hear about it. I’ll tell you more when we get back to our place. Sound good? Also, you’re gay, you shouldn’t care about this.”

You roll your eyes as she grumbles, turning on a movie as you try to sleep.

When you arrive at your apartment, all you want to do is collapse on your bed and sleep for days. You only have one before you have to be back at work and school, however.

This next week was hectic, you had to finish your final for your portrait class, then you had to finish your oil painting final. The only final you would have to sit for was Art History IV.

You saw a text from Tom that you decided to open.

Tom: hope your flight was nice, good luck with finals

Jesus, you needed a smoke. You begrudgingly got up, grabbing your pack and lighter from your bedside table you pushed open the balcony door, taking your phone with you.

You: thanks, can’t believe I graduate so soon, been a whirlwind

Tom: what’s ur address

You: what

You light your cigarette, waiting for his reply.

Tom: wanna send you a graduation gift

You: like what

Tom: just something

Tom: on a completely different note what size bra and panties do you wear

You: I like the way you think.

You send him all the information he asked for, finishing your cigarette and lighting up another one. It was a bad habit of yours, you were well aware, but you started smoking with your ex when you first started college and you were, like most people who smoke, addicted. You planned to stop eventually, they drained money from your account and you’d need to start saving more for a chair at a tattoo shop anyways.

Tom: What are you up to now?

You: having a smoke then going to take a nap

Tom: oh

You: what?

Tom: just was gonna say we can call or video chat if you wanted to

You: although the idea of getting off together over the phone sounds amazing baby, I needa take a nap

Tom: after?

You: I’d want nothing more

You finish your other cigarette before going back inside, flopping down on your bed and closing your eyes.

You wake up to Lily shaking you awake, “Y/N, it’s been like so long you should get up.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s Sunday, like 2pm.”

“Oh shit,” you say, getting up.

You check your phone, a few missed calls from Tom, one text from Bryce asking if you wanted to work tonight around 6. The shop was closed but there was going to be a small cleaning day according to him.

You quickly text Bryce back, telling him you’ll be there. You send a message to Tom as well, unsure of what time it was over there.

You: sorry I totally suck but I’ll make it up to you. I’m going into work into work at 6pm my time, call me before then.

You lock your door, quickly shutting the door and curtains that lead to your balcony.

You jump back into bed and see your phone buzz, Tom. You quickly pick up.

“Thought you were gonna ghost me,” he laughs.

“Nah, like your dick too much.”

“Y/N, don’t say things like that.”

“Why?”

“Cause.”

“Oh, are you hard right now?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you free?”

“Course.”

“Good, are you naked?”

You hear him suck in a deep breath, “not yet.”

“Okay so get naked.”

“Are you?”

“I’m about to be baby, like I said, gotta work on your patience.”

It’s silent other than the sound of both of you taking your clothes off. You put the phone on speaker and lay it down next to you.

“You naked?” He asks, panting.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes?”

“Did I say you could?” You grin, hearing him swear.

“What’s this game we’re playing Y/N?”

“Just listen to my instructions baby, gonna make you feel so good.”

“Fine,” you hear him grumble.

“You don’t haveta, you can hang up and get yourself off if you wanna.”

“No, no, okay I’m not touching myself, what do you want?”

“Want you to tease yourself, lick your palm, rub it down your chest, don’t touch your cock yet.”

He swears but does what you say, waiting patiently for your next instruction.

“Good, go ahead, wrap your hand around your cock, but don’t move, just feel the weight of yourself in your palm, feel good? Wish it was me, my hand wrapped around you?” You ask, letting your fingers pinch your nipples.

“Fuck, wish it was something else.”

“Yeah? What do you wish it was?” You ask, biting your lip, knowing exactly what he’s going to say.

“You’re, fuck, can I move my hand? Please?” You hear him whine.

“What do you wish it was Tom?”

“Your lips, wish your lips were wrapped around me right now.”

“Wish I was there right now, wish I could suck you off, maybe if you were being good I’d let you fuck my mouth, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck, yes, wanna fuck your mouth so bad.”

You loved how worked up he got just from being told what to do. You hand slipped down to your pussy, slipping a finger into your wet heat as you gave him his next instruction.

“Go ahead baby, jerk your cock for me.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunts and you can hear him start to move, his bed moving beneath him.

“Feel good? Wish it was my pussy wrapped around your cock?” You ask, slipping another finger into yourself, moaning.

“Are you, you touching yourself too?”

“Course, not nearly as good as you touching me,” you groan, thumb rubbing your clit.

“Wish, fuck, wish I could see you right now.”

“Tom, feels so good, wish these were your fingers fucking into me, wish you were getting me off,” you whine, fingers speeding up.

“Yeah? Wish I could eat that pretty pussy of yours, make you come undone over and over again on my tongue,” he groans your name several times.

“Gonna come? You wanna come for me baby?”

“Yes, fuck, don’t stop please, wanna come, can I come?” he grunts and you grin. You were surprised he was asking permission and you let out a throaty groan as his moans get higher and higher pitched.

“Yes, come on baby, come all over yourself for me, take a picture when you’re done, wanna see how much of a mess you made for me.”

“Fuck, y/n, I’m coming, fuck,” he whimpers your name a few times and that’s all it takes for you to come undone.

“Shit,” you laugh, fingers slipping out from you.

“Yeah?”

“That was fun,” you giggle, before wiping your fingers off on your sheets.

“Agreed.”

You hear your phone buzz and you check it.

Another picture, this time Tom’s face was included. He was biting his lip, hand not holding the phone was in his hair, your eyes wandered down to his chest, red and sweaty, his stomach covered in his come, cock softening against his hip.

“Look so pretty baby,” you say, taking off your phone speaker.

“Thank you,” he laughs.

“Okay I gotta go get ready for work, talk to you later?”

“Great plan.”

“Bye.”

“You know your phone was on speaker right?” You hear Lily shout and you laugh so hard you’re almost in tears.

“Sorry!”

“Well at least I know what he’s like in bed now.”

***

You arrive at Tattoo Dice and the doors are locked, lights off. Maybe you were the first to get there, your apartment being so close, so you unlocked the door with your copy of the store key.

“SURPRISE!” A chorus of people shout and you’re bombarded by every tattooer, piercer, and front desk assistant holding balloons and streamers and those little things that pop, you couldn’t remember the name.

“Holy shit what’s this for?” You ask, confused.

“Your graduation,” Bryce says, stepping out from the crowd, “we couldn’t find a time when everyone was free after your graduation so now is close enough.”

“Yeah? Wow thank you,” you laugh as he guides you to the sofa in the waiting area, where a cake was waiting.

“What?” You ask, reading it.

“What’s it say?”

“Happy graduation and apprenticeship.”

You look between Bryce and the cake, “you fucking didn’t.”

“I did. I’ve never seen such talent and skill, you’ve been here for 4 years, you’re going to have to start looking for an apprenticeship when you graduate, I don’t want my competition swooping in and stealing you.”

You felt tears in your eyes, this never happened.

“Of course, you’ll have to put in the work and the effort, and pay for your chair but I have no doubt in my mind you can do that.”

“Thank you Bryce. Really,” you say, hugging him.

“Alright, no more crying, it’s cake time.”

***

You were anxiously awaiting the grade for your portrait. It took like every waking moment, the theme was “two sides of every story”. You knew exactly what to do.

You had called Tom after your party, shocked he was still awake.

“So, my portrait final, I was wondering if one of your buddies could take a photo of you sitting on a stool, like positioned in a corner, so your shadow is still in the shot.”

“Want me naked?”

You roll your eyes, “no, it’s, the theme is two sides of every story, so I want to draw you, maybe as Peter Parker, then your shadow will be Spiderman.”

“Holy fuck that’s awesome.”

“Yeah, do you think you could do it tomorrow morning? So the light hits you just right?”

“Course.”

“Thank you Tom,” you sigh, laying down.

“No problem. Keep your eye out for your mail.”

“Huh?”

“Your present.”

“Oh you know you don’t haveta get me anything. Don’t even know if anyone is going to my graduation,” you laugh.

“Wait what?”

“Nothing.”

“Nobody’s going to your graduation?”

“It’s, I mean, Bryce is going to try, not like I have anyone else.”

Shit fuck, fuck. You didn’t need to share personal shit with him.

“What about, you don’t haveta, I don’t know if this is a touchy subject for you, if you don’t wanna talk about it you don’t have to.”

“Why nobody’s going to my graduation?”

“Yeah.”

“See how easy it was? Anyways, don’t know who my dad is, mom left me on a police station’s doorstep when I was three like I was a newborn baby and it was the 1950s.”

“She did What now?”

“She had really bad postpartum depression, couldn’t handle having a kid I guess, left me on the police doorstep and I bounced around different foster homes. Never stayed in one place for more than a year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What’re you sorry for?”

“For all that, for how you hadta grow up.”

“It was fine really, Art was what kept me going, it was the only thing I really had from home to home, only school subject I was able to do well in since it didn’t require previous knowledge.”

“Well I’m glad you got something good out of everything that happened.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, closing your eyes.

“When is it again?”

“When’s what?”

“Your graduation.”

“Oh, April 15th.”

“Okay.”

“Anyways, guess what?”

“What?” You can hear he’s more distant now, probably wants to ask why you don’t have anyone going to your graduation, he doesn’t want to know the answer.

“Bryce offered me an apprenticeship.”

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, I’ve got just enough saved up to pay for my equipment and chair for the first few months, when I’m tattooing for free, then eventually I’ll get paid, might haveta take out a loan for my apartment or move somewhere cheaper but since I won’t be spending money for the subway to get to school it’ll cut my expenses. Jesus why am I rambling sorry you don’t wanna hear all this.”

“No I do, I do,” He says and you can hear some enthusiasm in his voice.

“It’s late you should go to bed.”

“Maybe we can talk in the morning?”

“I’d like that,” you smile, “goodnight Tom.”

“Night princess.”

You giggle as you hang up, running a hand over your face. You were fucking exhausted. The next morning you woke up to a picture message from Tom.

Holy shit, the picture was perfect, just what you needed.

You: this is legit amazing how’d you make it look so good?

Tom: brother is like an amateur photographer

You: nothing amateur about this. Thanks no I get to stare at your picture for the next 50 hours.

Tom: 50???

You: more or less, for the portrait, then the oil painting, now go away I’m meant to work

Your portrait professor said you could go into the studio to draw, since it was a full color design, but if you wanted to do it in the comfort of your own home you could. You opted to take your work to the tattoo studio, sprawling out in the back office.

“You’ve got it bad dontcha?” Bryce asks, seeing your initial outline of the sketch.

“What?”

“This kid in the drawing, it’s the same one you drew the other day. You sleep with him?”

“None of your business,” you say, “scram I gotta finish this outline.”

“It’s almost done, you’ve been working for 6 hours, you need a break.”

“Fine, wanna grab some coffee?”

“Let’s go kiddo,” Bryce says, helping you off the ground.

Bryce takes you to the coffee shop next door. You know you’re going to have to tell him about Tom.

Most of the time he acted like your fun uncle, wanted to know what you were up to but wouldn’t give you any advice or warnings. Recently he’d been more of a wise father, which you had no problem with, never having one of your own to rely on.

“So, he’s famous right? Does movies? How’d that happen?” He asks as you sit in a booth.

“Met him at a club in London.”

“And you…”

“Yes, we did, thought it was just gonna be, you know, that, but we’ve been talking.”

“Have you seen him since?”

“No, think he’s gonna visit on his way to a press thing.”

“So are you two dating? Messing around? What do kids these days call it?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your coffee, “I don’t know. Like, it would be cool to date him, but at the same time I like what we’ve got now. He’s all over the place all the time, lives in London, while I’m here, how’d that work?”

“Think you could find a way to make it work, if it’s worth it.”

“Well, dunno if it’s worth it.”

“You’re doing your final project on him, I think it’s worth it.”

You shrug, “Yeah.”

“So maybe you should see how he feels?”

“Too soon for that.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll be by your side whatever you chose. Alright let’s get back I’ve got a tattoo to do and you’ve got shading and colors to start.”

“Then I’m working at 6.”

“Yep, got 5 more hours of work to do, let’s get to it lady.”

***

By the time your shift started you had almost finished your outline in black and erased the pencil underneath it.

You were happy with how it looked, sending a photo to Tom. Tomorrow you had to go into school for your art history class, only two more lessons left.

Tom: holy shit looks amazing, and now you have to color it?

You: Yep, most of the time will be color, then my oil painting

Tom: What will be your oil painting?

You: was gonna make an oil painting of the Spiderman mask but I don’t want you to think I’m obsessed with you or something

Tom: I wouldn’t mind, your art blows my mind

Tom: also I’m kinda obsessed with you too

You: good

You smirk at his texts, locking up for the night at 11:30, saying goodnight to Bryce who made his way upstairs to his apartment.

“See you tomorrow,” you wave, sending him one more.

The next day is filled with rushing to class, your professor telling you that the final class period was optional, knowing you all had plenty of work to do for other classes. You almost cheered.

When class wrapped up you made your way to the studio, working a mid to close shift, you weren’t going to have much time to work on your portrait.

You were able to use your colored pencils to get the color of his shirt, a blue button up, and his khaki pants done. You wanted to save the details of the Spiderman suit and his face for when you had more time.

By the time 1pm rolled around you were satisfied with how much work you had left and the time you had to do it.

You spent the rest of the day greeting customers, helping them pick out jewelry, copying their consent forms. You had fun as the front desk assistant and would no doubt do it for as long as they wanted you, but you were dying to have a turn with the tattoo machine.

The phone rings, and you answer.

“Hello, Tattoo Dice by Bryce, this is Y/N, how can I help you today?” You ask, pen and paper in hand.

“Hello, is Bryce in?” A low voice asks.

“He is, doing some paperwork in his office. Can I help you?”

“Was hoping to talk to him.”

“Sure, I’ll check to see if he’s taking calls,” you frown, clearly they’ve never stepped foot in a tattoo shop before or understand any etiquette of tattoo shops.

You put the person on hold and ring the back office, “someone wants to speak to you? Do I tell them off or let them through?”

“Feel like being nice, put them through.”

You transfer the line to the back office and look back at your portrait, taking out your skin tone set of colored pencils. There was a lull in the shop around dinner time and you decided to color his body in while there was some silence.

****

“Hello, this is Bryce, how can I help you?”

“Hi, you’re, you’re Y/N’s boss right?”

“Yes, who’s this, Wait, are you that Tom fella? No distracting her at work.”

“Of course not sir, I wouldn’t. I was just wondering, she told me you might go to her graduation.”

“That’s right.”

“I was wondering if maybe, maybe you could get a second ticket? I wanted to surprise her, but I wouldn’t know how to get a ticket.”

“Do you think she would want you there?”

“I don’t, I would hope so, I mean, I don’t know how to ask her without giving away that I want to surprise her.”

“Well I’ll ask her, hold on.”

“Right now?!”

“Yes, just you wait a minute.”

****

Bryce strolls out of his office rolling his eyes, “some random asshole who doesn’t know what our cancellation policy is. Trying to cancel our appointment for tomorrow and get his money back at the same time.”

“Huh, weird that he asked for you.”

“Well I’m his artist, makes sense.”

“Yeah, totally,” you nod, eyeing Bryce as he sits on the stool next to you.

“Looks good so far,” he nods as you shade in his neck.

“Thanks,” you hum, changing the color for his face, slightly darker color to contrast the light from the window you would add later.

“So, your graduation.”

Your face drops and you stop coloring. He doesn’t want to go. Or he is too busy.

“You don’t haveta go, stupid for me to invite you, it’s whatever,” you sigh.

“No, no I was going to ask if I could get two tickets, for Adrien and I.”

“He’d wanna come?”

“What’s my husband gonna do? Sit and look pretty? We’re not open on Sundays he won’t have work.”

“I’d love to get you two tickets.”

****

“Do you like your presents?”

You giggled, looking through the box of lingerie.

“You didn’t need to get me all these.”

“But I want a photo shoot,” he whines.

You pick up a small handwritten card.

For you princess, I expect photos of you in all of them. Xx Tom

“You’ll get a photo shoot mister,” you laugh, putting your phone on speaker and taking off your clothes.

They were from an online store, all in the sizes you sent him. There were more elaborate pieces but you picked up a lacy red bralette with matching red lace panties. Most of the lingerie was red.

“Is red your favorite color?”

“How’d you know?”

“Just a guess.”

“You look so fucking good in red princess. Wait FaceTime me.”

“Okay okay,” you say, hanging up and moving to FaceTime.

“Fuck I didn’t know you’d be naked for me,” Tom groans, laying on his bed, you could see he was shirtless and were hoping there was nothing on underneath.

“Go ahead baby, put on those pretty little numbers on for me,” he says as you prop your phone up on your bedside table.

You put on the first red lacy set, posing for Tom. The camera slowly moves lower to his hand gripping his cock as he jerks off.

“Don’t come too soon, got lots more to show you.”

You show him the same set in black, causing him to bite his lip and thrust into his hand.

The next bit is a little more elaborate, lots of tiny hooks to clip in the back, and you struggle for a bit, laughing when you trip over your own two feet and Tom sits up, concerned you hurt yourself.

“I’m fine,” you laugh, getting the last hook done. You turn back to him, showing off the red lace corset that made your tits look so good, right down to where it trailed off into a lace trim hanging right above your bare pussy.

“Love this one, wanna leave marks all over your chest, tease those hard nipples of yours, shit, so pretty,” he says, hand moving faster.

“Have 911 on hold while I take this off,” you joke, fingers struggling again to unhook it. Once you do you put your hands on your knees and mock being out of breath.

“Are you okay? You don’t gotta try the others on, it’s fine,” Tom starts but you cut him off.

“Are these crotchless panties?” You gasp and look up at him. He’s blushing a little and nods.

“You don’t needa wear them, thought they’d be fun, I don’t know, don’t worry about it.”

“No Tom, I fucking love them, holy shit I could come just thinking about how useful these could be.”

You quickly slide them up your legs, fingers spreading your lips, loving how snug the fabric felt around your hips and ass but how bare and exposed your pussy was.

“Look so pretty, come on, go lie on the bed and play with your pussy,” he says, camera shaking a little as his hand speeds up.

“In these?” You ask, laying on the bed and tilting your phone so he could see your fingers move down your chest, pinching each of your nipples.

“Yes, fuck yourself with those panties, wanna see if they work,” he grunts and you follow through, fingers dipping lightly into yourself, the hole in the panties perfect for this.

“Go ahead princess stuff yourself full for me.

“Shit,” you whine, fucking yourself with your fingers.

You could hear his moans get throatier, you knew he was going to come.

“Fuck, touch your clit, come on baby,” he whines and you do just that, feeling yourself get closer and closer.

“Tom, fuck,” you groan.

“Come for me princess,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly.

Your fingers speed up and you come like a horny teenager with a cry of his name.

He comes right after, and you bring the phone up to your face, giggling a little as he licks his lips.

“Feel like a fucking teenager right now.”

“Yeah?”

“Hella horny all the time, sexting.”

“Wish you were here,” he sighs, hand running through his hair.

“Me too,” you yawn.

“How are you tired it’s like 6pm there.”

“Been working nonstop on your projects, finally finished them today after pulling an all-nighter. Gotta pass them in tomorrow.”

“Can I see them?”

“Course. But I’m gonna sleep now. And you should too! It’s late over there.”

“You’re right.”

“Goodnight Tom.”

“Night princess.”

***

“You should try juuling,” Tom says nonchalantly.

“What?” You almost choke, smoke exhaling out of your nostrils, you cough for the first time while smoking in three years.

“To help you stop smoking, you told me you wanted to stop, eventually, heard juuling helps.”

You roll your eyes at the boy on the other end of the FaceTime call.

“Sure,” you say, “just, I’m graduating today, got some nerves to shake out.”

“But you did it, and your portrait professor said yours was the best work she’s seen this year.”

“Yeah, thank you for your pretty face.”

“Of course,” he grins.

“Where are you right now?” You ask, the bed behind him not his own, he never said he had any filming or press. His next press thing was a week from now in Mexico according to him. Your heart nearly falls out of your chest, what if he’s at another girl’s place? You know you never said anything about seeing other people, you were just messing around, why did what he did in his free time matter to you?

Sure you texted every day, not just sexted. You learned about his friends, his likes, his dislikes, anything and everything, all the little fun facts about him. But that was just getting to know the person you’re sleeping with, right?

He must’ve seen the look of confusion mixed with hurt on your face because he sat up and his eyes widened.

“Nevermind, doesn’t matter, I haveta, I gotta go.”

You were going to wait for him to answer but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself even more so you hung up quickly.

“Fuck,” you say, tears stinging your eyes as you finish your cigarette and immediately start another one.

“Hey! Y/N, we gotta get going- fuck, what’s wrong?” Lily asks as she joins you on your balcony.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you say, sniffling as you take a long drag.

“Clearly you’re not fine you’re crying, what’s wrong?”

“I just, I’m an idiot.”

“What?”

You silently finish your cigarette, Lilly rubbing your back as you stub the end into your ashtray.

“I think Tom was at someone else’s place, like in someone else’s bed.”

“Oh.”

“It’s stupid, we never said we were a thing this was just, we’re just fooling around so it doesn’t matter what he does in his free time.”

“Did you hear what he had to say?”

“No, feel like a fucking idiot, didn’t wanna embarrass myself in front of him anymore.”

“You should ask him out.”

“Huh?”

“Tell him you wanna be official, wanna be boyfriend girlfriend or whatever. It’s obvious you’ve got feelings for him.”

“Nah, he’s, he's famous, he’d never be around,” you shrug.

“Okay, But doesn’t change how you feel. So put on your big girl panties, stop crying, we’ve got a graduation to get to.”

“Don’t gotta leave for a few hours.”

“Two.”

“Okay, so I’m going to smoke this entire pack of cigarettes then we can graduate.”

“You’re seriously going to stand here and chain smoke?”

“Yep,” you nod, grabbing another cigarette.

“Just call him back, call him once and see what’s up, okay? Don’t be stupid and sound like an old lady for graduation.”

“Fuck off,” you groan.

“Fine, but just, call him okay?”

“Whatever,” you grumble.

Lily sighs and leaves you on the balcony alone. You look back at your phone. Nothing. It didn’t matter anyways, maybe you scared him off enough that you wouldn’t have to deal with the messiness that came with feelings.

You shrugged, wiping the stupid fucking tears from your eyes, grabbing another cigarette. Maybe you would get a juul or whatever they were called, cigarettes were fucking expensive and as your apprenticeship got closer you realized how fucked you were. It only made her angrier.

You couldn’t think about that now. Instead, you focused on the ring of smoke you blew from your mouth, the burning sensation you felt in your lungs.

You don’t know how long you stood there, smoking as the sun got higher in the sky and the bustling life of Queens began to start. It was a Sunday so everyone was going to church or catching up on errands.

You heard a knock on the door to your tiny apartment and the door swing open. You ignore it, thinking it might be Lily’s girlfriend here so you all could travel to graduation together.

You finish your cigarette, the knocking on the door starting up again.

“Who the fuck, Lily, who is it?” You shout, making your way back inside, closing your balcony door. You toss your pack and lighter on your bedside table before walking the very few steps to your front door.

“Lily, where the fuck are you?” You groan before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

“Who the fuck-,”

“Surprise?”

Tom was standing in front of you, wearing a really nice suit, eyes red.

“Oh. Oh!” Him in a different bed, acting sort of weird over the past few days made sense.

“I’m sorry. I, I was going to surprise you at your graduation but when you asked where I was I didn’t want you to think that I was with someone else or something, and I’m sorry if you don’t want me to be here I just thought I didn’t wanna wait until May to-,”

You cut him off pressing your lips against his, taking him off guard he stumbles back, arms wrapping around your body to draw you tight against him.

“I want to see you too,” you mumble against his lips, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, glad you liked your surprise,” Lily says, breaking the two of you apart.

His hands were still tight on your waist, your hands cupping his face, you just nodded, looking at Tom who stared right back at you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you say, smiling.

“I think I’m even happier that I’m here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“Prove it,” his eyes dart between your lips and your own eyes.

“Okay, so I’m going to meet Lexie downstairs for coffee, if I don’t see the both of you down there in 30 minutes so we can get to graduation on time I swear to god I’ll kill you,” Lily interrupts and you sigh, forehead pressed against Tom’s.

“Bye Lily,” you shout as she slams the front door.

“Missed you,” you say as you lead him the short way past your kitchen into your bedroom.

“Missed you too princess,” he says, kissing down your neck.

“Now it’s your turn not to leave any marks,” you say, “don’t wanna look trashy when I walk the stage.”

“So I can leave marks here?” He asks, hands moving to grope your breasts.

“Fuck, please,” you whimper, tugging at his suit coat.

“Missed yer kiss,” Tom says, lips meeting yours again as you both struggle to undress each other.

“Don’t have lotsa time,” you say, pushing him back so you can quickly slip out of your sundress.

“Fuck, that’s one of the sets that I gotcha, you like it?”

You nod as he quickly gets out of his clothes, watching as you toss your bra and panties to the side.

“Fuck, Missed yer tits,” he groans, accent thicker, voice rougher.

“Touch me, come on, no time,” you say, moving to grab a condom from your bedside table.

“How are we gonna,” he says gesturing to your bed.

“I know it’s not as good as your king bed. Actually it’s garbage compared to your bed but it’s all that’ll fit in this fucking room,” you say, pushing him down on your twin bed.

You straddle his hips, grinding down on his hard cock as he plays with your tits, sucking and marking them as much as he can.

You hurriedly slip the condom onto his cock and sit on his cock, his teeth gliding against your nipple as you do.

“Fuck, Tom,” you whine as his hands grip your ass, encouraging you to move.

“Come on, not much time,” he says as you start to bounce on his lap.

“Fuck,” you groan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you move quicker.

“That’s what we’re doing.”

“Shhh,” you whimper, a finger moving to your clit, rubbing it eagerly. He kisses you hard, his lips telling you something without words.

You didn’t want to admit it but you were so excited he was here, if you had to sext one more time you would lose your mind. And whether you would say it out loud or not, you didn’t really want to sleep with someone else to relieve the tension you felt since that night. Your tongue met his in your mouth, his touches softer tonight than a little bit ago, tender. You both reached your highs pretty quickly and Tom would’ve been embarrassed save for the fact that he’s waited so long for this and the sight of you on top of him, the way your lips felt against his, he was a goner, in every sense of the word.

“Wow,” you say as Tom helps you off of him.

“Missed yer sex,” he laughs, taking the condom off as you start to get dressed.

“I’m very grateful you’re here.”

“I think that Manhattan could hear your box spring.”

“Well now they all know how good I’m getting it.”

“What’re your plans later tonight?”

“Well, was gonna go out to like an early dinner late lunch with Bryce and Adrien. Wait how did you even get a ticket to my graduation?”

“Asked Bryce actually.”

“Yeah? How is Adrien going?”

“That’s his husband right? Not sure,” he says, getting dressed as well.

“Hmm, well we’ll see him there. I’ll be right back gonna run to the bathroom make sure I look presentable.”

“I think you look beautiful.”

“Thanks buddy, but we just fucked so I’d like to make sure it doesn’t look like that at my graduation.”

“Good plan,” he laughs, buttoning his shirt.

You make your way to the bathroom, peeing before brushing through your hair. Your sundress showed off your sleeves and upper back tattoos so you grabbed the sunscreen.

“Lather me up,” you say, handing Tom the sunscreen.

“Aren’t you going to be wearing a gown?”

“Nah, it’s art school, we have the hat things, whatever they’re called, but we just wear those and call it a day.”

Tom shrugs, pulling you down onto his lap, he leaves gentle kisses along your tattoos before applying the sunscreen to it, rubbing it into your skin.

“Ready to go?” You ask, about to move from your position on his lap.

He shakes his head and you frown, tilting your head curiously, “wha-,”

He kisses you, hands cupping your face, thumb rubbing your cheek. You swipe your tongue across his lips but he pulls back, “nuh uh.”

“What?”

“Lily is going to kill us, let’s go, I’ve got a special lady to cheer on.”

“Oh? Special?”

He nods as you reluctantly get off his lap, “she’s pretty great, I’ll have to introduce her to ya eventually.”

“Eventually,” you nod, pulling him out of your room. You grab your purse and your grad cap from the kitchen counter.

***

“Y/N, Y/L/N,” the dean of the college says and you grin as you walk on stage, shaking his hand and taking your diploma. The crowd is cheering and you definitely couldn’t seen Bryce, Tom or Adrien in it but you knew they were there. Cheering you on, somewhere.

The ceremony ended a little while after all the names were called and you all threw up your grad caps in the air, you felt cheesy doing it but here you were, a wide smile on your face as you tossed it up in the air with the rest of your class.

***

“So Tom, you’ve been acting since you were little?” Bryce asks as you all sit at the booth of a small diner near Tattoo Dice, the same shop you and Bryce got coffee at a little bit ago.

“Yes,” he nods, hand resting on your thigh.

“What’s your favorite thing you’ve ever acted in?” Adrien asks.

“I know people probably expect me to say the MCU and Spiderman but I quite enjoyed doing Billy Elliot when I was younger.”

“Would you ever do musical theater again? Or theater? Or will you stick to the big screen?”

“You know, I really loved theater, so who knows maybe I’ll make a musical theater revival. I’d haveta work on my voice first but yeah, maybe.”

“And your new movie comes out soon right? The new Spiderman?” Bryce asks.

“Yep, I start the press tour in like a week? Just about.”

“So you travel a lot?”

“Okay, let’s cool it with the 20 questions,” you laugh, “let’s not scare him away.”

“Oh I don’t scare easily,” Tom smiles, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your thigh.

This was the first time any of your hooks up or, you didn’t want to say this and jinx it, any of your boyfriends met Bryce and Adrien, the closest you’d ever come to actual parents.

Maybe Tom knew you were nervous, hell everything about you gave it away. Your leg was bouncing up and down, his hand didn’t stop your leg from moving, just rested it there, which was comforting.

“So, you own the shop is that right?” Tom asks, “and Adrien, you’re the shop’s piercer?”

“Yep, opened Tattoo Dice 19 years ago.”

“And Y/N will be, what’s it called, she’ll learn how to tattoo from you?”

“Yeah, she’ll be my apprentice, she’s going to get started on synthetic skin first, so she gets the feel of the tattoo needle, then she’ll learn basic health and safety of tattooing, stuff she’s already learned since she’s gotten so many tattoos and is the front desk attendant but she’ll get certified officially while apprenticing.”

“So it’s a lot of work huh?”

“She’ll be working hard but that’s what she’s always done so I’m not worried.”

“You’re too kind Bryce,” you say, blushing a little.

“I’ve got no doubt you’ll be fantastic,” Tom says, kissing your cheek.

“So, we start my training tomorrow?” You ask as the four of you stand outside the coffee shop. Tom had got you both a taxi back to your place, Bryce and Adrien would head back to their apartment above the shop.

“Actually, why don’t we start next Monday?”

“Monday? What will I do until then?”

“Relax? Have a little break? You’ve trained the person taking your place, you can still work your evening shifts if you want, but you don’t have to.”

“Gotta pay rent so yeah I think I’ll work this week.”

“Don’t be afraid to take some time off, relax, you deserve it.”

“I will, promise.” “Alright, there’s your taxi, get lost, and congrats kid,” Bryce says, pulling you into a hug. You relax in his arms, and laugh as Adrien hugs the both of you.

“Okay, okay, relax, rest, get lost,” you say, pushing out of their hug.

“Congrats,” Adrien says as you slip into the taxi with Tom.

“Congrats grad,” Tom says, lips gently kissing right below your ear.

“Cheeseball,” you say, his fingers intertwining with your own.

“That does not sound tasty.”

“No it really doesn’t,” you laugh.

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, save for a few comments from Tom about the other driver’s here, how terrifying they all were, with little care for pedestrians or other cars.

“Guess that’s what it’s like in New York,” you shrug as Tom pays the taxi driver.

“So, nightcap?” He asks as you bring him up to your apartment.

“It’s like 6pm it’s way too early for a nightcap,” you laugh, “but I can, I can think of other things we can do to occupy our time.”

“Oh yeah? What did ya have in mind princess?” he asks, his mouth ghosting over your neck.

“Why don’t we go to my room and find out?”

“Your friend isn’t home?”

“Nah her and Lexi will be with their families and then at Lexi’s place, we’ve got a whole 500 square feet to ourselves.”

“You don’t even have a living room.”

“Hey, I’ve got a twin bed and a balcony that’s all I’ll ever need.”

“Whatever you say,” he sighs.

“Come here,” you say, pulling him close, lips meeting his.

You stumble back towards your room, fumbling with the door as Tom’s hands glide under your dress, gripping your ass.

“Missed your hands,” you say as he slaps your ass, your dress bunched at your waist as he pushes you down onto your bed.

You pull your dress over your head as you move up your bed, watching as Tom gets undressed.

You start to take off your bra but he stops you, hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Lemme undress you baby,” he says, straddling your hips and kissing up your stomach. He kisses the tops of your breasts before making his way back to your lips, leaving as many marks as he can on the way up.

“Tom, fuck,” you groan as his hands move to unclip your bra, tossing it to the side.

“Lemme make ya feel good princess,” he says before taking a nipple into his mouth, eyes watching your face contort in pleasure as his fingers play with the other one before switching sides. His hips grind down against yours and you so desperately wanted to get his underwear off, so you could feel him but you decided to be patient, decided it would be worth the wait.

He makes his way back down your body, fingers tugging down your panties, “practically dripping for me, you excited to see me or something?”

“As if you aren’t,” you huff, growing impatient as he breathes against you, so close to where you want him.

“Be patient for me, okay? Almost there,” he says, before kneeling on the floor in front of the bed, tugging you down so your legs are propped up on his shoulders.

You immediately moan at the sensation of his tongue against your clit, slowly lapping at it before moving to your entrance, licking through your folds.

“Fuck come on,” you groan, hands flying to his hair.

“Tug away baby, won’t give you what you want until you’re patient for me.”

You whine, hands tugging at him, frustrated, you lay your head against your bed and let him tease you.

He grins against you and you feel his finger push inside you, tongue making gentle strokes against your clit.

“Good girl,” he says, another finger pushing into you, he starts to pick up the pace, fucking you with his fingers in earnest.

“Fuck come on Tom, make me come,” you say, the knot in your stomach forming way too quickly.

His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while fucking into you harder.

His teeth graze your clit and you come with a cry of his name, pulsing against him. His fingers slip out of you as he kisses your thighs, dropping them to the side of his shoulders.

“Missed you,” he says, kissing his way back up your body.

You’re still horny as fuck, you wanted him to get a move on so you grabbed his shoulders tugging him on top of you, “fuck me, please.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Tom smiles, kissing you softly, too soft for what you’re about to do.

“Come on,” you say, reaching for your bedside table grabbing a condom from the drawer.

“Those been sitting there waiting for me?”

“I was getting ready for the end of May, gotta stock up.”

“So smart,” he says, pushing his underwear down his legs and tosses them to the side.

You rip open the condom and help him slide it down his cock, he groans as you jerk him off, kissing down your neck as he hikes your thigh up around his waist.

“Come on, fuck me,” you whimper as his cock rubs against your folds.

“This what you want princess?” He asks, bottoming out, smirking as you cry out his name.

“Let’s go,” you say, your hips moving up to grind against his.

“All yours tonight princess,” he says, one hand holding himself up while the other cups your face, kissing you as he begins to move.

Tonight wasn’t any less pleasurable than the night a few weeks ago, although the way he made you feel was very different.

He wasn’t any gentler with his thrusts, but his movement was more deliberate, more meaningful.

“Come on, make me come, baby,” you say, arms wrapped around his neck, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Gotcha princess,” he says, hand moving between the two of you to rub your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Yes, fuck, make me come around your cock, please,” you whine and his lips capture yours, swallowing your moans as you come.

His thrusts get faster and sloppier, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Feel so, feel so fucking good,” he says, voice deeper.

“Come for me, please, wanna feel you Tommy,” you whine and he groans, face tucked into your neck as he comes, hips slowing to a stop.

“Wow,” you laugh as he pulls out of you, sitting up and taking the condom off.

“Still good?”

“Don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

“Hmmm, three weeks? Give or take?” He asks, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Shut up,” you laugh, sitting up and kissing him. Something about the way he kissed you, it wasn’t needy like he would never see you again, but just his lips, soft and warm and against yours.

“Needa smoke, hop off me Holland,” you say against his lips and he nods, getting off the bed.

You open your closet grabbing two t-shirts and slipping one over your head, tossing the other one at Tom.

“The view from the balcony is really pretty, I’ll be right back,” you say, kissing his cheek before grabbing your panties.

You wink at him before going to the bathroom, peeing and splashing some water on your face. When you go back to your room you grab your smokes and lighter from your bedside table. You watch Tom lean against your small balcony railing, feet crossed and head tilted towards the sunset.

You grab sleep shorts and pull them up before stepping onto the balcony.

“Hey handsome,” you say, arms wrapping around his waist from behind, kissing his neck.

“Hey to you too,” he says, relaxing into your arms.

“Told ya the view is pretty,” you say, face tucked into his neck.

You feel Tom pause, unsure of his next words.

“My favorite is when it’s late out, not all the lights are off, obviously, it’s New York, but when most of them are off, past midnight usually, you can see all the stars in the sky.”

“We should do that,” he mumbles, hands resting over yours.

“Good idea,” you nod, unwrapping your arms and slipping next to him.

He watches as your black acrylics tap against the railing, one hand fiddling with your pack of cigarettes and lighter.

“What is it?”

“I should quit these things.”

“I mean, I’m not going to tell you no, but if that’s what you want, that’s what you should do.”

“Maybe I’ll get that juul or the gum or patch or whatever, cigarettes cost so fucking much anyways, gotta cut costs somewhere and I’d rather not live off of ramen and popcorn for the next few months.”

“Up to you,” he says, watching you get a cigarette and hold up your lighter.

“Tomorrow, tomorrow’s another day, I’ll finish off the rest of my cigarettes and then I’ll stop.”

Tom raises his eyebrows at you and you shake your head, “I’m not every other smoker who says they’ll quit tomorrow and then tomorrow becomes the next day and the next day and so on, never said I was gonna quit before. But I think, I don’t know, it’s stupid really.”

“No, go ahead, what is it?”

“I feel like I’m opening a new chapter, art school is done, I’m gonna be a tattoo artist soon, hopefully, and-,”

“And you’ve got me.”

“Hmmm?” you ask, turning towards him.

“I mean, if you want, I just, I figured, I’d like to be a part of this new chapter of your life.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, I- if you don’t wanna, I can do, it’s,”

“Tom?”

“Yes?”

“Will you, fuck, this is so dumb, do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“I uh, sort of already assumed we were, you know, an item. So yes. I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“Dork.”

Before you realize what you’re doing you’re hugging him, arms tight around his neck, body as close as you could be to him in this moment. His arms wrap around your back almost immediately after you hug him. You stay in each other’s arms, just breathing, for some amount of time, time with Tom felt all too quick but drawn out at the same time. But you also really needed to smoke. You pulled away from him and pull out a cigarette.

“Let me,” He says, nodding towards the lighter in your hand.

You quirk your eyebrow at him, handing it over. He attempts to flick the lighter on a few times, biting his lip in concentration.

You put your thumb over his, showing him how to pull the safety tab down to spark the lighter.

The two of you stare at the small flame of your lighter between you, illuminating each of his freckles and each of your tattoos as the sun sets over the balcony.

“Here,” he says as you slip the cigarette between your lips. He holds the lighter to it and you nod when it’s lit, taking a drag before turning away from Tom and blowing the smoke out of your lungs.

“I had to smoke cigars, for a movie once, but I wasn’t very good at it.”

“Not something you want to be good at,” you laugh.

His hands wrap around your waist from behind, chin resting on your shoulder as you finish your cigarette.

“What do ya wanna do tomorrow?”

“Hmm, you don’t have somewhere to run off to? Your press thingy, what’s it called? In Mexico?”

“That’s next week, I uhm I’ve got my hotel for the week. We can go there if you want. It’ll be like a staycation for you.”

“Stay here tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Stay at my place, tonight, there’s a little breakfast place I want to take you to, about a block from here. Only if you wanna.”

“Of course I wanna girlfriend.”

“Oh my god shut up,” you laugh, finishing your cigarette.

“Okay, can I call you princess?” He says, lips pressing against your neck.

“Of course,” you say, “call me something else too,” you grind back against him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Come inside,” you say, putting your cigarette out in the ashtray as Tom kisses down the back of your neck.

He pulls you back in, closing the balcony door. You drop your lighter and cigarettes on the bedside table.

His hands are quick to tug your shirt over your head, planting kisses down your chest, smirking at the marks he left earlier.

“Gonna be a good slut for me and suck my cock?” He asks, hand cupping your pussy.

“Please,” you groan as his palm gently rubs against your clothed clit.

He guides you to your knees, one hand firm on your shoulder while the other tugs off his shirt.

His hands pull your hair out of your face as you push down his underwear, hand wrapping around his cock.

“Go ahead, be a good slutty princess for me,” he says, not pushing your head down but just watching as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

You gently lick up and down his cock, before starting to bob your head, his hips start to move against you and you can’t tell if it’s deliberate or not but you moan when you choke around him, breathing deeply through your nose.

“Look so pretty down on your knees for me, gonna make me come like a good girl?”

You moan again, feeling him twitch in your mouth as you still, letting his hips do all the work.

“Such a good slut for me, fuck, gonna come in your mouth princess,” he groans, hips stilling with your lips wrapped around the head of his cock.

He comes with a groan of your name followed by princess, and you couldn’t help but smile as he helped you up. You fucking loved that nickname.

“Your turn,” he grins as you pull your panties down and off your legs, “do ya, do you still have mine from- from,” you try to finish your question but he’s pushing you down on the bed, one hand wrapping around your wrists and pinned them to the bed, the other running up and down your side.

“God princess I used those to jerk off so many times, had to wash them eventually, still kinda smell like you, I’ll need a new pair when I leave this week.”

“Don’t think that’ll be a problem,” you giggle as he leaves butterfly kisses against your cheek.

“What are you, what are you doing?” you laugh.

“Kissing you, duh,” he says, before his lips meet your hot skin.

“Go on, eat me out baby, please,” you whine, hips moving to meet his own.

“I’m going princess, relax for me okay?” he asks, hand leaving your wrists, which you keep above your head.

He makes his way down your body, kissing as his hands spread your legs wide, he situates himself between them, kissing along your thighs as his fingers slip into your pussy.

“Fuck Tom,” you groan. He quickly brings his lips to your entrance, licking and kissing and just making you feel everything. He brings you to orgasm with his lips wrapped around your clit and three fingers pressing against your sweet spot.

“Taste so good princess,” he says, fingers still moving slowly inside of you as he makes his way up to your face, kissing up. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, arms wrapping around his neck.

***

“I would love to shower with you but my shower is lucky to fit one person, the mere idea of two people in this shower will break it,” you laugh as Tom brushes his teeth.

“Fine, guess I’ll just haveta watch you shower.”

“Okay perv,” you joke as you wait for the water to warm up.

He’s wearing the t-shirt you gave him earlier, he’s small enough that it fits well, the only part that stretches is the sleeves, his biceps bigger than your own.

Once you showered you dried your hair, about to walk back to your room with the towel wrapped around you.

“You don’t wanna watch me shower?”

“No you weirdo,” you laugh and you hear him laugh in return, stepping into the shower.

You sit on your bed, drying your hair as best you can. You tried to think about how this all came to be. When all you wanted was to hook up with someone during your trip to London. You never, ever would have expected this, not in a million years.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asks from your door and you almost jump off your bed, heart racing.

“Shit, how long’ve you been standing there?” “Just got outta the shower, not as fun as if we were in there together, gonna haveta try that at my hotel.”

“I’d like that,” you say, “come here, help me put lotion on my tattoos.”

“What?”

“Lotion. Gotta moisturize them so they still look good in 50 years.”

“Didn’t know that.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t.”

“Actually,” he starts, pulling you up to stand with him.

“What?” you laugh as he sits down in your place, tugging your towel off and sitting you down between his legs, your back to his chest.

“I’ve got a tattoo.”

“What?! Where?” you ask, turning your head to look for a tattoo somewhere that for some reason you didn’t notice before.

“Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh? I wanna see it!”

“Here,” he says, his leg moving to rest on top of yours as he points to the bottom of his foot.

“You- you got a, what is that, is that a spider?! On the bottom of your foot?” You’re trying your best not to laugh.

“Told ya you’d laugh, yes, I’ve got a spider, had to get it done over twice, it hurt like a bitch.”

“Why would you, why,” you start before giggling.

“Hush and let me lotion you up,” he says, dropping his leg.

“Why the bottom of your foot? That’s like such a bad place for a tattoo, it’ll never last!”

“Well that’s kinda why, and because I’m an actor. Don’t want tattoos to get in the way of my work.”

“What- other actors have tattoos. But you’re very brave for getting the bottom of your foot tattooed, that must be painful.”

“You’d never get the bottom of your foot tattooed?”

“Fuck no, you kidding? No thank you, that’s a no zone for me.”

“Mhm,” he hums as his hands rub the lotion into the skin of your upper back and arms, taking his time to catch every part of each of your tattoos.

“Making me sleepy,” you say as his hands move to massage your shoulders. “Then let’s sleep,” he says, kissing your cheek.

“Gotta get dressed,” you mumble.

“Meh, it’s hot in here, we can sleep naked.”

“How’re we gonna fit here again?”

“Here,” Tom says, pushing your comforter and sheets down, moving the two of you so he’s laying on his back and you’re on your side, practically on top of him.

“This is comfortable for you?” you ask, hand resting on his chest.

“Mhm, you good?”

“Very comfy,” you say, yawning as his hand runs up and down your arm.

“Goodnight princess.”

“Night baby,” you say as sleep overtakes you.

***

“So, you do this a lot?” He asks as you curl up at his side on the bench in Central Park.

“Only when I’ve got free time and it’s nice out, it’s the perfect day for it,” you say, opening your sketchpad to a new page.

“And you just find someone to draw?”

“Normally I draw some of the people who live here, sometimes people sitting on benches around us, like to people watch, ever done it?”

“I’m sorry, people watch?”

“Yeah, sit somewhere and just observe people in their natural habitat, it’s fascinating.”

“Whatever you say,” he laughs, arm around your shoulder.

“It’ll be worth it, promise.” “I don’t doubt that,” he nods as you look around.

There’s a man who was sleeping peacefully on the bench across from you and you glance over his features, your pencil starting to sketch on the page.

“Him?”

“Yep, I think I’ve sketched him before, he’s normally running around everywhere, asking people for hugs, so I only got a quick sketch of his face, but this’ll be perfect,” you say, drawing out the bench.

You can feel Tom’s eyes on your sketchbook as you draw and if it were anyone else you’d be uncomfortable, not wanting them to see anything but a final product. But with him it was different. You were okay with showing him bits and pieces of your life you kept hidden.

“If you were to get tattooed by anyone, who would you want to tattoo you?”

“Probably Ryan Ashley.” “Who’s that?”

“Famous tattoo artist, she’s the first female winner of Ink Master, sorta paving the way for female artists in the mainstream. She does these amazing realistic jewelry pieces, always sort of wanted a chest piece, I’ve been saving it on the very rare chance that she’d ever tattoo me,” you ramble as you start to sketch the outline of the man’s body.

“You wouldn’t want to get tattooed by me?” “Are you telling me you’ve tattooed someone before?” You feel him nod against your head and you gasp, “Tom, you’re just full of surprises huh?”

“Yep, tattooed a little spiderman spider on someone’s leg, he let’s celebrities tattoo him all the time.”

“Fucking jealous you’ve gotten the chance to tattoo someone before I have.”

“I can guarantee you’d be a million times better than me.”

“Hope so, I’ve put all my time and effort into working at Tattoo Dice, I hope it pays off, hope that I put art on people’s skin that they appreciate.”

“I believe in you,” he says, eyes watching as people walk past, feeling comforted by the fact that nobody knows he’s here, none of his fans or paparazzi will be looking for him. He can spend time with you in public without worrying about being stopped every few feet for an autograph or a photo.

Someone looked at the both of you as they walked past, eyes pausing on Tom, who was just wearing sunglasses.

“to hide my unruly brow,” he explained when he put them on this morning.

“Is that like your disguise?” you asked him.

“Course, now nobody can tell it’s me.”

“Sure baby,” you shrugged, blushing a little when his hand slipped down to hold your own as you left your apartment.

You felt him tense and you looked up, “What’s wrong?”

The person kept walking. “Nothing, was scared they noticed who I was,” he whispers as you relax back against him, working more on the arms of the man on the bench.

“But you’ve got your sunglasses on, you’re Clark Kent,” you say.

“Wrong universe,” Tom smirks.

“You know what I mean,” you poke his side before concentrating back on the sketch.

It had to be at least an hour when you were satisfied with how it looked, sitting up to brush away some eraser shavings.

“How’s it look?” You ask, looking up at Tom.

“Pretty damn good,” he says, grinning back at you.

The man on the bench wakes up with a start, grumbling to himself. You quickly rip the page off your sketchbook and get up.

“Want me to-,”

“I’m fine,” you tell Tom before moving the few feet to the man’s bench.

“Whaddya want?” He asks, voice rough.

“I uh, I’m an artist. Draw people, and well, here,” you say, awkwardly holding out the sketch of the man to him.

“What the- is this me? This is me! Wow,” the man says and your brows furrow with worry when his eyes start to tear up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask permission before drawing you, just looked so peaceful sleeping there and- oh!” You smile as he pulls you into a tight hug.

“This is, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen, I’ll keep it forever, and I mean that,” he says as he let’s you go.

“Well, I’m glad you like it, have a good day,” you smile as he picks up his backpack and shopping cart full of belongings.

“You too dear,” he smiles, wiping a tear from his eyes before walking away, holding the sketch tight to his chest.

You turn back to Tom, sure your face is lit up with a smile.

“You’ve done it yet again princess.”

“Huh?” you ask, sitting down next to him.

“You’re gonna change lives with that art of yours.”

“Sucha dork,” you giggle.

“Cm’ere, miss yer kiss,” he says, kissing you gently as his fingers intertwined with your own.

***

“Gonna miss you,” you mumble, face tucked into his shoulder as he hugs you.

“Already miss you.”

“Dork,” you giggle.

You were standing outside your apartment waiting for Tom’s taxi to take him to the airport.

“I wanna see the first tattoo you do okay?”

“Obviously, I’ll see if Adrien can video it for me.”

The taxi pulls up and Tom pulls you tighter against him, like he didn’t want to let go. And to be fair, neither did you.

“Okay, go before they charge you extra for making them wait.”

“Alright,” He says, kissing you, it wasn’t a soft sweet kiss, or a desperate I want you kiss. But a this is the last time I’ll see you for a little bit and I’ll miss you kiss. And honestly? You think you loved those kisses the most. You pulled away first.

“Get outta here Holland,” you say and he laughs, tossing his suitcase into the backseat with him. As the taxi drives away his hand presses against the window and he mouths “I’ll miss you.”

____________________________________

Tag list (tagged people who asked for a part two/asked to be tagged): @hcllander @spideyyeet @particularspider @wooowsworld @ruefulposts @screeching-student-unknown @jennypizzaholland @april-14-blog @asphalt-cocktail @rageyoudamnednerd @superherosthings

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland reader insert #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader oneshot #tom holland x reader one shot

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 035 [Consequences]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,869

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“Will I catch my breath before I meet my end? Wish I could say I played a fair game, but I’ve been cheating death. Because the sun brings light to mistakes of yesterday.” Mosaic, “Hollow”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Honestly, what were you thinking, Winchester?” Midnight put her hand on her hip, looking at me expectantly. Principal Nezu was standing beside her, his paws behind his back and a cheerful look on his face.

I grunted, not even bothering to respond as I looked away, my arms crossed over my chest. I mean, I could tell them that I was legit contemplating shoving a chimichanga up his ass, but something tells that wouldn’t help my case here.

She sighed deeply at the lack of response, turning her gaze to the small rat beside her. “What should we do with her?”

“Well, she did attack another student outside of the event,” Nezu said cheerfully as he turned his beady eyes to me. “Do you deny this accusation?”

“No. Would it help if I said he deserved it?”

“It won’t help at all!” He smiled, before looking back up at Midnight. I bet he gets a lot of neckaches looking up at everyone. “Winchester should certainly be punished for her misconduct. However, I feel as though removing her entirely from the sports festival is a bit over the top. She worked quite hard to get as far as she did, after all. Do you agree, Midnight?”

She nodded. “In that case, you will forfeit your next match and accept fourth place. You should be thankful that you aren’t being removed from the sports festival entirely!”

I held back a groan. Man, Katsuki’s gonna be so~ fucking pissed.

“You’re also going to apologize to Monoma,” she continued. “Is that clear?”

“Yeah, whateva,” I muttered.

“You can be such a pain, Jen,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “We better get the next match started before they start to riot again. Go back to the seating area and stay out of trouble!”

“It’s not my fault trouble is attracted to me, Midnight. I mean, look at me, I’m sexy as fuck!”

She deadpanned.

“What, you don’t agree?”

“Go, Jen.”

“Che,” I did as she ordered, heading straight for 1-A’s seating area. From the direction I was walking, I would have to pass by class B before reaching my own. I hesitated for a moment, having an internal debate with myself before finally taking the steps down. Monoma was sitting in the first row. Half of class B glared at me, while the other half just gave me a confused look. I stopped in front of the blonde. Recovery Girl had clearly fixed his nose, but there was a white strip of bandage over the bridge.

I took a deep breath. This kinda hurts my fucking pride, but… fuck it. “I’m sorry for punching you. No matter what you said to me, I should’ve had more control over myself. Sorry, Monoma.”

His eyes widened, cheeks dusting with color as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Kendo, sitting behind him, smacked the back of his head and he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “Y-Yeah… me too.”

Ryuu smiled proudly at me, his fingers brushing mine as I passed. It was his way of saying that there were no hard feelings between us, and I really appreciated the sentiment.

I returned to my class, stifling a yawn. The class noticed me and their chatter died down. I tried to ignore all the eyes on me as I sat between Bakugo and Sparky.

“What happened?” Sparky asked, softly.

I shrugged, sharing a look with Bakugo. It was obvious that the two boys had told the others about what they saw. “I had to apologize to ’em.”

“That’s it?” He breathed out, giving me a grin. “We were worried!”

“You better not be lying,” Bakugo’s eyes narrowed at me and I chuckled, ruffling his ash blonde hair.

“No lie, bro.”

“It’s the second match of the third round! These two heroes in training have both been front runners in the sports festival! It’s Midoriya!! Versus! Todoroki!! But which of these rivals will advance to the next round?! BEGIN!”

Before Mic’s voice could even fade, both boys sprung into action. Todoroki launched an ice barrage at Zuku, who used a small smash with his finger to break it apart before it could reach him, sending a strong gust of wind across the stadium. The only thing that kept Todoroki in bounds was the chunk of ice he created behind him.

“Wo~w! Midoriya managed to break Todoroki’s insane opening move!”

They did this dance again. And again.

“He countered it again!”

My eyes narrowed as I watched them. The battle’s only just begun and he’s already broken three of his fingers on his right hand. For fuck’s sake, kid. Ain’t there another way to use that insane power of yours? Like I get it, it’s the superior quirk, but still…

“Oh crap!” Kirishima came running up. “I’m missing it!”

“Hey, nice job making it to the third round, Kirishima,” Sparky commented.

“Thanks, man! Looks like I take down Bakugo next!”

“I’ll kill you.”

“Heh, yeah, sure. In your dreams.” Kiri grinned brightly, hands on his hips. “No, but seriously. It’s crazy how both you and Todoroki have moves that blast the whole stadium. Must be pretty nice!”

My eyes narrowed at him. There’s that lack of self-confidence again…

“Plus, you don’t have to pause between attacks,” Sero added with a jealous look in his eyes.

“It’s not as easy as you think, ya morons,” Bakugo responded. “If you overuse your muscles, you risk tearing them apart. If you sprint too much, you run out of breath.” He paused, looking down at his hand. “Quirks are physical abilities, too. They can get worn out, you can’t just use them non-stop.”

“It makes sense when you put it that way,” Kiri admitted. “I wonder if that’s how Midoriya thinks he’s gonna beat Todoroki.”

“Todoroki withstood Midoriya’s power and is now rushing his classmate!”

Midoriya tried to avoid the ice, but it grabbed a hold of his foot and his fist clenched, power rising drastically. I shifted in my seat, a drop of sweat rolling down my cheek. Bakugo sent me a look but said nothing, his eyes snapping back to the match. Zuku broke his arm defending against the ice. Fuck, kid, do you even have a plan?

“Woah! Todoroki continues his overwhelming attacks! Could this be his finishing move?!”

Ice shot toward Zuku at an alarming speed and he released another smash to counter it. Todoroki was barely able to stop himself from being thrown out of bounds that time.

“You’re trembling… Todoroki,” Zuku’s voice reached out to us. “It’s easy to forget that quirks are physical abilities and that means… there’s a limit to the cold your body can take, right?! I get it. Usually, you’d make up for the drop in temperature by using the heat from your left side, but you refuse to do that now. Listen… we’re all giving it our all… to try and win… to make our dreams a reality… to become number one! You think you can win with half your strength?! Look at me, Todoroki! You haven’t managed to put a single scratch on me yet! So come at me with all you’ve got!!”

What the fuck is he thinking? While it’s true that Todoroki’s ice hasn’t hurt him, he’s already broken four fingers on his right hand and his left arm. He’s quickly running out of options. Is he trying to bluff? No, that’s not it. My brow furrowed. Wait a minute… I shot out of my seat, eyes widening. “Don’t fucking tell me…”

“What’s wrong, Winchester?” Kirishima leaned forward, his hand on my back and voice full of concern.

Izuku, you… you’re trying to save him, aren’t you? You’re risking the finals, your body, everything to pull him out from the darkness he’s lost within. I can’t believe this.

“Midoriya… what are you trying to do here?” Todoroki demanded, his voice growing angry. “You want my fire?! What, did my monster of a dad bribe you or something?!” He rushed at Zuku. “Now I’m mad!!”

Zuku’s slammed his fist into Todoroki’s stomach.

“A solid punch! That’s the kind of action that I like to see!”

You’re literally tearing your body apart, Izuku! Is it worth it? My hands clenched tightly, nails digging into my palms. There’s no way in hell Gran can heal all of those injuries at once, but you know that already don’t you? You don’t care…

Izuku used his cheek to pull back his thumb, releasing another smash.

“Why are you putting yourself through this?” Todoroki demanded.

“I wanna live up to people’s expectations! I wanna be able to smile… while doing something good for them! I wanna be a pro! Whatever it takes to be a hero!” Izuku cried, headbutting Todoroki in the chest. “That’s why I’ll give it my all… just like… you should be! There’s no way I can know what you’ve gone through, or why you’re even here. Your life has been so much different then mine, but right now… stop screwing around! If you want to reject your father, fine, but you don’t have the right to be number one if you’re not going to use your full power!”

I stepped forward, my hands clutching the railing. I can feel… so much raw emotion coming from those two boys. Sadness, pain, frustration. I swallowed hard, my heart clenching within my chest.

“Winchester, are you okay? You’re shaking…”

No… no, I’m not okay… because neither of them are.

“Shut. Up.” Ice was spreading rapidly across his right side.

“That’s why I’m going to win this!! I’ll surpass you!” Izuku punched him in the stomach again, sending him flying back into the air.

Todoroki was silent for a moment, clearly lost in thought before shaking his head. “I will reject you… I refuse to use my left side…”

“It’s yours!!” Izuku cried. “Your quirk, not his!!”

Todoroki’s power shot through the rood as flames erupted from his left side, blazing like an untamed wildfire, fueled by pure, raw emotion.

My hands clenched tighter around the metal. Those flames… they’re so goddamn beautiful, so powerful. I… I want to fight him. I want to feel those flames for myself, I want to see how my flames stack up against his. Can my body withstand them? Goddamn it!

Arms wrapped protectively around my waist, but their words were muffled, distant. My mind could only focus on the sheer amount of power and emotion that was crushing the air.

“Yes, Shoto!! Have you finally accepted your purpose?!” Endeavor stalked down the stairs, a smug look on his face as he approached the railing. “That’s it, very good! This the dawn of a new era for us! With my blood in your veins, you’ll surpass me! You will live up to the reason I created you!!”

My eyes snapped to him, glowing red as my blood boiled within my veins. I’m already in trouble with the staff, I should fucking punching that bastard in the balls so he can’t have any more fucking kids. I should punch him in his smug fucking face, too. Maybe it’ll make him attractive if I rearrange those ugly ass features of his!

“Endeavor suddenly shouts words of… en… couragement? What a doting father…”

My eyes snapped back to the arena as a wave of power shot through the air. Fucking hell, that power is… incredible. Todoroki covered the arena with ice, which Izuku dodged, flying toward him. In an instant, Todoroki switched to his flames, melting the ice he had created. Five thick cement slabs shot up from the ground between them, lessening the impact of each of their attacks, but the raw power from both sides shattered the cement easily, exploding them into bits. A fierce wind pushed against the stands. I braced myself, feeling the arms around me tighten and several voices crying out in surprise.

The intense pressure slowly started to fade and I felt like I could breathe again.

“What happened just now? What the heck is up with your students?” Mic cried.

“The air around the ring had been thoroughly cooled down and then rapidly expanded when heated up.”

“Wait, that’s what caused the explosion?! How hot did that fire get?! Jeez, I can’t see a thing! Is the match still going on or what, huh?”

The smoke finally started to clear. Zuku’s body was flush against the wall, smoking. His body shifted before falling to the ground, unconscious.

“There…” Midnight’s voice was shaking. “Midoriya is… out of bounds! Todoroki wins! He advances to the fourth round!”

I took a shaky breath. “Let go of me.” I shoved the person away, seeing a flash of red as I took off toward the nurse’s office, ignoring the calls of my name.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“The bones in your right arm were shattered. I’m afraid it’ll never be the same as it was before.” Gran explained sadly as she stood beside the best. Izuku was covered in bandages, his arms wrapped thicker than Aizawa’s. “I need to remove the bone fragment or they’ll get stuck in your joints. I’ll heal you afterward.” She sighed deeply before turning to Toshi, who was standing beside me. “You lit a fire under this child and pushed him too hard. Look at what he’s done to make you proud. I don’t like it one bit.”

I scratched my cheek. “Come on, Gran, that’s not fair… I mean, he did push him, that’s true, but… Toshi ain’t completely to blame. I know Zuku wanted to make him proud and help Todoroki, but he should have had the sense to stop before it got too far.”

Toshi rested his hand on my shoulder.

Gran shook her head in disappointment. “You’re going too far, you hear? You and the boy. Don’t praise him for what he’s done today.”

“Midoriya!” The door slammed open, nearly making Toshi jump out of his skin as Iida, Ochaco, Tsu, and Mineta appeared in the doorway, all looking worried.

“You scared the crap out of me,” Toshi muttered, holding his hand over his heart.

“Getting jumpy in your old age?” I snickered, raising a brow. He shot me a look, pinching my hand.

“Are you okay?” Ochaco asked before she noticed Toshi. “Oh, it’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

Real smooth, Tosh. Real smooth.

“He’s in no state for visitors,” Gran said firmly.

“Hey, guys…” Zuku said with a soft, low voice. “Shouldn’t you be watching the matches?”

“The stage was far too damaged,” Iida explained. “They’re taking a quick break to repair it now.”

“That match was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, Midoriya.” Mineta’s small body shook as he spoke. “What pro’s gonna want a sidekick that hurts himself?”

My eyes snapped to him and I was about to punch him in the head when Tsu slapped him with her tongue. “You’re just rubbing salt in his wounds. Probably not a good time.”

I sent her a smile, which she returned.

“Hey, I was just speaking the truth.”

“You’re much too noisy!” Gran scolded, ushering them toward the door. “I know you’re worried, but I’ve got to focus on surgery now.”

“Surgery?!” They chorused in shock.

“Go on, get out of here!” She kept pushing.

“But -”

“Surgery is a big deal, isn’t it?”

“Will his wounds be healed?”

“Don’t worry, just leave me to it.” She assured them.

“Ribbit…”

That… was the saddest fucking ribbit I’ve ever heard in my entire fucking life. I fought the urge to rush over and pull Tsu into a bone-crushing hug.

“With all due respect, ma’am, shouldn’t Winchester be forced to leave, as well?”

My eyes narrowed at Iida. Got his ass beat and he still doesn’t know when to fucking call it quits. Annoying fuck.

“I need to check on her injuries from earlier, now go on.” She finally got them out the door, closing it behind them.

“I’m sorry…” Zuku spoke up, his voice soft and defeated. I rested my hand on his uninjured leg, rubbing gentle circles on his outer thigh to help calm him. “I couldn’t do what you asked of me. If I had shut up… not said anything… I might’ve been able to beat him… but I…”

“You got Todoroki to realize something very important about himself,” Toshi responded.

“I guess so. In his first match, he looked so sad. I was trying to figure out why, when I should’ve been focused. I made a bigger mistake, though. Whenever we were fighting, I was just so… so frustrated. I couldn’t see the bigger picture or what it would take to win. I’m sorry…”

“It’s true that the match didn’t go how we wanted it to, and realizing where you went wrong won’t change that… but, listen. Meddling where you don’t technically have to is the essence of being a hero.”

I squeezed his thigh, giving him a smile when his eyes met mine. “Toshi’s right, you know. Helping Todoroki was more important to you than winning the match. If you ask me, you’re already a damn good hero.”

He made a strangled noise, trying to hold back tears as his hair fell over his eyes.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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jordanlahey · 6 years ago

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“Wake Up.” (1)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader x Steve Harrington (Platonic!The Party x Reader)

Summary: Y/n woke up in the middle of the road, having no idea where she is. Once she finds out where or more importantly when she is she just wants to go home or at least she did.

Warnings: language and alcohol

Word Count: 2009

A/n: (W/Y/A/F - Where you are from)

Series Masterlist

*Your POV*

‘Come on, 10 minutes left please get a move on.’ I think to myself as I look between my work and the clock. It’s nearly summer vacation and i just want to get this shithole of a year finally over with, then I'll have one more year left before I can start thinking about colleges. I look back at my best friend and she is also thinking the same thing I am, I start tapping my pen against my desk waiting impatiently as I glance up at the clock. ‘3...2...1’ the bell rang and everyone sprung from their seats and threw their papers in the air. Classic. My friend grabbed me by my arm and we ran outside and started cheering. We walked passed all the students, some are crying others are excited.

“You’re coming to the party tonight right?!” Chloe spoke as we left the school grounds, she loved a good party and its the first of summer vacation.

“Of course but please don’t let Ryan dj, his music is utter shite.” You groan just thinking about it and Chloe laughs.

“His music isn’t that bad, you just have different taste in music as him.” Chloe nudged you. “What are you going to wear?”

“I was thinking a black t-shirt my red and black tennis skirt you know the one that’s kinda tartan like? And my black denim jacket that is a few sizes bigger than me.” I say and Chloe nods. Chloe and I have similar taste in outfits but we plan in advance so we don’t end up wearing the same things.

I get home and greet my mother and father then head up to my room to get ready. I showered and got my clothes on and the next thing was my hair, I decided to have it down and straight and my makeup. I will never understand why putting on makeup feels more like a chore than fun activity so I only do the basics, eyebrows, eyeshadow, liner, lashes and i’m done pretty much. I have 2 hours to kill before I have to meet Chloe so I can binge watch my favourite series until then.

*Different POV*

You felt your eyes start to get heavy and you still had an hour and a half till you had to leave and you were struggling to stay awake and by the time the next episode started you were out like a light.

You awoke feeling the cold nipping at your exposed skin and you instantly sat up realising you were outside. You look around at your surroundings and as far as you know you are outside on what looks like a back road in the pitch black it was a long ass road and had a lot of trees at each side it was kinda spooky. You started asking yourself how you got here cause you swore you went to sleep on your bed...Wait! you have a party to get to but you can’t get there when you have no fucking clue where you are.

You stood up and flattened your skirt down and hugged your denim jacket to keep yourself warm then two bright lights were on you and a car was speeding towards you. You froze in fear then the car slammed on its breaks and honked at you then someone came out the car and stomped towards you. You stared at the car in front of you then someone had came out shouting.

“What the fuck are you doing!? I could have ran you over!” they shouted, from what you gathered it was a guy but he had long blonde hair and it was curly, he stomped towards you and his face came into focus. “Are you deaf or something!?” He yelled.

“Holy shit.” You breathe as you at him, he was fucking gorgeous! His blue eyes were pretty to stare at and he had an amazing face.

“Holy shit indeed. What the fuck were you doing on the fucking road!” Jesus does this guy ever stop shouting.

“I would like to know that too. I was in my bed and I woke up lying on the ground.” You say looking around once again. “Can you tell me where the fuck I am.”

“What are you? Stupid? Dunk? High?” He scoffed and he was starting to piss you off.

“I’m not drunk yet, in fact I was supposed to be going to a party but I can't now can I? Now tell me where the fuck I am!” You yelled back at him and he smirked at you. HE FUCKING SMIRKED! Not going to lie it was damn sexy.

“Hawkins, Indiana.”

“Excuse me!? Is that even a real place?” You cross your arms glaring at him.

“You tell me, cause that’s where we are.” He said in a calm tone now, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“That can’t be right ‘cause I wasn’t here when I went to sleep.” The guy is looked at you like you were out of your mind “What am I supposed to do now? I’m far away from home and I don’t know anyone here.”

“Weren’t you on your way to a party?” the guy asked And you nodded. “Then get in the car.” he threw his cigarette down and headed to his car.

“Why?”

“We’re going to a party.”

“I don’t go anywhere with strangers especially when they nearly run me over.” You spat and he sighed in annoyance.

“Billy, Billy Hargrove and you were standing in the middle of the road Sweet cheeks.” Billy opens his car door. “Now get your ass in the car or I’ll leave you here.” You weighed your options, get in the car with Billy and possibly get murdered or be left on your own and...get murdered. You choose to go with billy and he smiles to himself and speeds off down the street.

You didn’t speak to each other, the only thing that broke the silence was the music and You were surprised that it wasn’t fucking rap music cause it’s shit. You quietly sang along to ‘You shook me all night long.’ By AC/DC. You could see Billy occasionally looking over at you then you stopped singing along out of pure embarrassment.

“What party are you taking me to?” You ask finally, You guaranteed that you won’t know anyone there anyway.

“A douchebag called Steve’s party.” He huffs, you can already tell that he doesn’t like this Steve guy.

“Y/n.” You say, Billy looks at you puzzlingly. “My name is Y/n”

“Sweet cheeks suits you better.” He says with a smirk.

Billy pulled up at a house and got out the car and you followed suit and had a closer look at Billy he wore a red shirt that wasn’t buttoned up all the way, a black leather jacket and blue jeans.

“You better stick by me cause no doubt you’ll get lost in here.” Billy looked you up and down smiling to himself.

“What’s the ish?” You grumbled at him.

“What you’re wearing. You’re bound to get everyone’s attention.” He lit another cigarette. “I’ve never seen a girl wear what you are wearing.”

“Really? Everyone I know wears something similar.” And looked down at your clothes and followed Billy into the house and you looked at everyone. What the fuck are they wearing it was like you were in some 80’s movie.

You stayed behind Billy as he maneuvered through the crowd of people, you did get a few daggers from the girls and Wolf whistles from the guys and you were confused as hell even more now. Then you and Billy were stopped by a guy with a lot of freckles and a girl with red hair.

“Whatcha got here, Hargrove.” Freckles says looking you up and down and you look at him with a bored expression.

“Yeah Billy where’d you find her.” Red added.

“On the road.” Billy said and you rolled your eyes.

“Way to make me sound like a fucking prostitute, dick.” You glared at Billy.

“Is she good at giving head? Or a good lay in general.” Freckles laughs.

“You pervert and take that back or I’ll kick your ass.” You spat and you heard a bunch of ‘oohs’ fill the room.

“She’s got a foul mouth on her don’t she.” You scoffed and laughed to yourself. “What else does it do.” He looks down and you and you smirk.

“Talks shit about everyone and anyone.” You say in a bored manner.

“I like this one-” you walked away from Freckles and Red they were getting boring. “Hey I was talking to you!” Freckles shouted.

“Oh were you? Sorry you were boring me to death and my survival instincts kicked in.” You shrugged and went to find the kitchen. Billy looked at Tommy and Carol and laughed, he was starting to like you already.

You finally found the kitchen and there were a few people in here you tapped a guy on the shoulder and he also looked pretty handsome. ‘Damn if guys here look like this I don’t wanna leave.’

“Hey where can I get a drink around here?” You asked.

“Here you go.” He handed you a bottle of beer and he looked for a bottle opener.

“Don’t worry I got it.” You used the ring on your finger as a makeshift bottle opener and it popped off without any problems and he looked amazed at you.

“I haven’t seen you around, are you new?” He started to speak to you.

“Something like that. I’m Y/n.” You held out your hand and he shook it.

“Steve Harrington. How did you get here?”

“Oh this is your party, uh billy took me.” You answer and he didn’t look impressed.

“Your his latest fuck buddy aren’t you.” He wasn’t really asking a question.

“Nope I’m not anybody’s hoe in fact I just met him legit not that long ago.” You sipped your drink calmly. Then an arm draped over your shoulder.

“Fuck off Harrington, she’s mine.” Speak of the devil here he is, You shrugged him off.

“Oh am I? I didn’t realise excuse me while I got get your name tattooed on my forehead.” Looks like you were hiding behind sarcasm today.

“Y/n where are you from?” Steve narrowed his eyes at Billy then softened them as he looked at you.

“I’m from (w/y/a/f)” You sip your drink and he nods.

“What brings you to Hawkins?”

“This was an accident. I don’t have a clue as to how I got here I fell asleep in my bed and then I woke up on the road and nearly died by this lunatic.” You point to Billy behind you and he looked offended.

“Your fault for being on the road.”

“Well you shouldn’t be driving like a wanker then shouldn’t ya.” You raised your voice and soon the whole room was looking at you. “Sorry.” you went back to drinking your beer and everyone else went back to partying.

“Y/n, this is Nancy and Johnathan, guys this is Y/n.” Steve greeted you to two more people and you waved at them awkwardly.

“You really aren’t afraid to your mind are you, Y/n?” Nancy smiled at you, you kinda liked this girl she didn’t act like Red.

“You know how everyone’s got that voice that keeps them from saying things they shouldn’t? Well I don’t have one of those so whatever comes out of my mouth will surprise me as much as it’ll surprise you.” I shrug. “Was this an 80’s themed party or something ‘cause y’all dressed like it.” all four of them looked at each other then back at you.

“Cause it is? It’s 1984.” Nancy spoke, furrowing her brows. You laughed and shook your head.

“No, it’s 2019.” and they all shook their heads and pointed to the calendar on the kitchen wall and your jaw hit the floor. “How the fuck did I get here then.?”

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader x billy hargrove

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yodawgiherd · 5 years ago

Text

Gradual Development

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Rating: M

Ch.123 was legit fire, so good that it roused me from my slumber and made me write for once. A spicy chapter at that, you know how I like it. And if you do too, well then... Enjoy!

Assignments assignments assignments. Head full of them, Mikasa pushed the door to her dorm room open, planning out the order in which she had to tackle the projects the lecturers just kept showering her in, only to be greeted by a sight that definitely wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Uh.”

Turning from the drawer, where he was most likely searching for some of the clothes he left there, Eren did look a bit embarrassed, caused by the fact that he was, in fact, naked, the towel around his waist and wet hair indicating that he just left the shower.

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind that I used your bathroom. Sasha said that she didn’t mind before heading out and I really needed one after the workout.”, he grimaced, rolling his shoulders, “That shit is hard, yet it looks so easy when you do it.”

Mikasa should really be listening to what he was saying, pay attention and stuff, but instead of that her eyes just kept being drawn to that one droplet of water slowly making its way down Eren’s chest. All of a sudden, the assignments didn’t feel so important anymore.

“You’re… Uhm… free for the rest of the day, right?”, she asked, gaze following that rogue drop of water as it kept sliding lower and lower.

“…Yes?”

“Good.”

The sound of surprise he made when she pulled him towards the bed was adorable. Screw it, the schoolwork could wait.

Leg around his waist, and before he realized it, Eren was lying on his back, staring upwards into Mikasa’s pale face, flushed red at the moment.

“What’s this?”, he asked, hands coming up to rest at her thighs.

“I think it’s called cowgirl.”, Mikasa watched him from this new position with interest, liking the way he looked under her. “Woman on top, riding. Look it’s just something new to try, okay? Like when you push your fingers into my mouth, or when you put my legs on your shoulders the last time we…”

“Hey, you don’t have to explain yourself.”, Eren looked amused a bit, by how quickly she became flustered around things like this. “We can try whatever you like.”

Good then. To show him just how pleasant this can be, she started stirring her hips, rubbing herself on him. She was rather glad that they stripped earlier because the way his member felt prodding at her entrance was quite nice. The hiss that escaped him and the way his fingers dug into her flesh was all she needed as a confirmation that Eren was more than willing to go along with her idea.

“Want to give this a go?”, she cooed, giving her hips a little twist.

The speed with which she nodded only made her smirk. Wrapping her fingers around his length, she positioned herself over him while holding him upright, slowly sinking down after. Eren was mesmerized, staring at where they were joined, watching himself disappear into her, inch by inch, the wet tightness sucking him in.

“Holy fuck.”, he breathed out when their hips were flush against each other, while Mikasa struggled for breath on top of him. It was different this way, deeper, and she felt more stretched than normally. But in return, it gave her complete control over it, the whole thing, and she did love being in charge. Slowly, experimentally, Mikasa started circling her hips, gasping at the way his member kept pushing at her walls. Her eyes kept fluttering closed, but she forced them open because watching the way Eren groaned and moaned underneath was so worth it. When the stretching stopped being so irritating, she paused, and soon Eren looked back up at her, most likely wondering why the wonderful massage halted.

“You like that?”, she asked, although she knew the answer already.

“L-Love it.”

Dragging a single finger down his face, she made a quick stop at his chest to pinch his nipple, experimenting. Hers were sensitive, and Eren did love playing with them, so what about his? And from the way he shivered, her guess that his were too was rather accurate. Satisfied, she started rocking back and forth, finding a rhythm she liked.

“Then let me take care of you.”

The broken whine that he made, that was all the answer she needed.

“Wait, wait stop.“

Those words were everything that Eren needed to pull out immediately, sitting back on his knees and watching Mikasa calm her breathing. They were still new to this, this whole sex thing, so naturally he just thought that he did something that she didn’t like, but instead of explaining herself further, she flashed him a nervous smile.

“I want to try something.”

Again?

“Try what?”

Twisting beneath him, Mikasa managed to scramble on her hands and knees, looking over her shoulder.

“I want you to do me like this.”

“Like this?”, Eren crawled closer, slowly dragging his hand over her beautiful ass, “You want me to fuck you like this?”

“Obviously.”, she rolled her eyes at him, signifying just how stupid that question was.

If she wanted it, he certainly wouldn’t object. Carefully guiding himself back, Eren had to grab at Mikasa’s hips for support, the feeling of her just as overwhelming as the first time, maybe even more.

“Like this?”, he panted out, the question met with a feverish agreement.

“Y-Yea, just like that.”, the look she threw him was one of pure lust, “Eren, move.”

He would never say no to that.

“How did you like it?”, she asked after the deed was done, and they were just tangled together on the bed, breathing each other’s scent. “The position.”

“What, we are grading our sex now?”

She pinched him.

“Just answer the question.”

“Miki, anything with you is an A+, but if you are asking about the specific way then…”, Eren’s bran usually didn’t function right whenever she took her clothes off, so recalling details was hard, but he managed to get the overall picture into his mind, “I liked the depth, and the freedom of movement it gave me, but you were too far. And I didn’t get to see your face when you came.”

“Right, that’s a big minus.”

“You’re just saying that because you never saw yourself climaxing.”, fingers combing her hair, he grinned at her, “You have this special thing, this face when your mouth is open, tongue out, and your eyes roll back. It’s fucking adorable, I love it.”

Mikasa seemed a bit embarrassed, murmuring something he didn’t catch and averting her eyes, so he entertained himself by letting his eyes wander all over her naked body, taking in the perfection he would never grow tired of. During his inspection, he came across some marks that certainly weren’t there when she came from class, which meant that he made them, no one else. Love bites on her neck were normal, but the mark of his teeth on her shoulder was a new one, same as the red spots on her hips where he gripped her while thrusting in.

“Was I too rough?”, he asked, tracing the proof of their lovemaking with the tips of his finger, worried.

But as was usual with Mikasa, she surprised him once more.

“No, I don’t mind.”, shaking her head, she grabbed his hand, raising it to her mouth and pressing a kiss to it, “I actually like it when you are rough with me.”

“You do?”

Mikasa nodded, still slightly blushing.

“What about you? Do you like it when I get rough on you?”

“I… Uhm…”, Eren pondered the question, but there really was no point in denying when that really did enjoy when Mikasa let herself go, pressing him into the mattress and slamming her hips into his with a force that rocked the bed frame. Especially not after she herself admitted to liking it so freely. “I like it too.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Great.”

“Amazing.”

“Spectacular.”

“Astounding.”

“Miki, I’m too tired to think.”, to muffle her victorious cry, Eren pulled her close, pressing his mouth against hers. “Let’s just say that it’s cool that we both like getting a little rough and leave it at that.”

“Sure. But I still won.”

Eren rolled his eyes.

Mikasa hated officiality. Especially when she got summoned into her professor’s office and made to wait on his dumb couch while the man was doing god knows what. In accordance with her feelings about this, she dressed in the most punk way she could think of. Lace-up combat boots that went all the way up to her knees, fishnets and a short skirt, combined with a shirt adorned with the edgiest picture she could find in her wardrobe, leather jacket, and heavy eyeliner and black lipstick. There, no one could call this formal, even in their wildest dreams. Fuck the system.

But all her efforts would be fruitless if the man didn’t show, so here she was, tapping her foot against the floor, impatient to be finally done with this shit. The door finally creaking open, he entered, sparing her only a passing glance before he pulled in a chair and sat down next to her, clearing his throat.

“Miss Ackerman, thank you for coming.”

She just nodded, not feeling the need to make a vocal response.

“I’ve been going through your exam results,”, he continued, seeing that she was giving him the silent treatment, “and it’s bad, really bad. With scores like these, I don’t think that I can let you finish my class successfully.”

Mikasa’s eyes went wide. What was this asshole saying? She couldn’t fail this class, there was no way.

“Seriously?”, she asked, and the nod he gave her planted a stone inside her stomach.

She. Couldn’t. Fail. Whatever it took. Internally grimacing, she shuffled a bit closer, looking up at the professor’s bemused expression.

“Listen, I uh... I would do anything, and I mean anything, to pass this class.”, reaching out, she put her hand on his thigh, close to the crotch, “You get me?”

Oh, he seemed to understand, grinning.

“Anything?”

Mentally cursing him, she nodded.

“Anything.”

“Well, you could…”, his hand touched her face, caressing her cheek, “you know…. Study?”

Mikasa jumped to her feet, giving the lector a very irritated look.

“Screw you, Eren, do you really have to put your jokes into everything?”

He was laughing, the bastard, doing his best to try to hold it in, and failing miserably at it. But she was far from amused. They were still not very comfortable with things like roleplay, and it certainly didn’t help when Eren just had to ruin it all for a punchline. Frowning, she turned to leave, but he caught her hand, shaking his head.

“Miki please, I’m so sorry okay? The setup was just way too good.”, lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed the tips of his fingers, doing his best apologetic expression, “Can we go again? I promise I’ll do it right this time.”

Normally, she would tell him to fuck off, but after wasting all this time on picking her outfit and doing the makeup, it would be a shame to just let the evening crash on the fact that Eren couldn’t keep his mouth shut sometimes.

“All right, last chance.”, Mikasa conceded, sitting back down, “But if you do shit like this again, I’m leaving, and you can suck your own dick. Understand?”

“I’m not sure I’m physically capable of doing that, but I get you. Crystal clear.”

“Okay.”, she sighed, “Let’s go again, but you’re on thin ice.”

“Well, there’s something you could do for me then.”, Eren’s hand grabbed her own, moving it right above his growing excitement. “If you really do want to pass.”

Dropping to her knees, Mikasa freed him, working the length with her hand after, watching the way his breathing labored. For this, she’s going to make that joker beg for it, that was for sure. Smirking, she got to work.

In the end, it was a rather pleasant evening. Even with Levi looking at the brink of biting Eren’s head off, for no apparent reason, Mikasa was a delight, more than making up for it. That came partly from Eren being the designated driver for the evening, allowing her to get tipsy, which translated into a bit more giggling and flushed cheeks than usual. After saying their goodbyes to her brother, she didn’t say much, just nodding her head to the rhythm of the music on the way home, so Eren guessed that she was tired. But when they reached their parking spot, and he tried getting out of the car, an iron hold appeared on his arm, holding him in place.

“What’s up?”, he asked Mikasa, who’s been casting suspicious glances all around herself.

“You’ve been really nice tonight.”, she said, undoing her seat belt and shuffling closer, her greys meeting his green eyes without blinking. “I think you deserve a reward.”

Before he could say anything, she kissed him, hard, tangling her fingers into his hair to pull him closer. Now Eren was no stranger in making out in the car, but when he felt her hand push into his groin, it did give him a pause.

“Hey, what are you doing?”, he managed to whisper, breaking out of the kiss for a moment. But Mikasa didn’t let him go.

“Shhhh, just enjoy it.”, with that, her head dipped, going down the same path her hand went, making Eren’s eyes widen. Not that he was against the idea, but they were sitting in a public parking lot, and even though it was rather late, the possibility of a random pedestrian walking in on them was there.

“Wait… you want to… here?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pressed her mouth right against his newly freed member, licking all around his length before closing her mouth around the head, and Eren was done complaining. It had a unique kind of thrill, because even with his vision going white, and the spots dancing in his eyes, he still did his best to monitor the outside, trying to prevent the rather awkward situation that would follow, should they be found out. For her part, Mikasa seemed past caring, making no effort to be quiet or anything, easily making his composition crumble. Surrendering to the inevitable, because being alert was just not a possibility with her lips around his length, Eren gave up on his guard duty, fully giving himself to her.

They were lucky. No one has decided for an evening jog around the campus, no one walked past finding his way back from a party, and Eren was very thankful for it. He was also thankful for the fact that Mikasa had no problem with swallowing because Eren was rather sure that clearing your climax from the insides of your car might not be the most pleasing activity. When he did finish, and she straightened with a satisfied smirk, he just stared at her, not sure what to say or how to thank her, but all she did was a quick wink and she was out of the car, walking towards their room as if nothing had happened. Fixing his appearance, Eren, however, did promise himself that he would get back at her. One day.

The day happened much sooner than he expected because Levi was invited to a formal dinner, by some rich guy whose wife he apparently helped get back in shape, and because he had no significant other he asked Mikasa to accompany him. Which was followed by Eren tagging along, because why the hell not. With a lot of groaning and complaining, Mikasa put on an actual dress, to go along with his suit, and that alone made the evening worth it, whatever they would be doing. And it wasn’t half bad. The food was great, the decorations were tasteful, and Levi didn’t even look that hostile anymore, actually relaxing for once in his life. When Eren excused himself to the bathroom no one paid him much attention, although the buzz of Mikasa’s phone that followed did lift his eyes from the plate. She frowned, reading the message.

“It’s from school.”, she said, standing up, “I have to make a couple of calls. Be right back.”

Once she got free, however, she walked over to the bathroom instead, meeting Eren who did his best to blend in with the wall.

“What the hell?”, she held her phone up, “Why are you texting me to meet you here? What’s happening?”

Without a word, he took hold of her hand, pulling her along inside, quickly finding an empty stall and locking them in. The beginning of her next question got muffled, because Eren kissed her, pushing her down to sit at the closed toilet. Only when he parted from her lips and kneeled between her legs, she managed to squeeze out a few words.

“W-What? Eren?”

He grinned.

“Payback.”

“You want to have sex in the public bathroom?”, Mikasa could feel her cheeks coloring, “With Levi sitting at the table waiting for us?”

A shake of his head.

“Who said anything about having sex?”

With that, he bunched her dress up her thighs, bending his head to press a kiss to right on her core after. For all her initial hesitation, the heated grind of his mouth on her was more than a compelling argument to change her mind, so instead of talking, she helped him in shimmying her panties down her legs, with Eren holding up the piece after, casting an inspecting eye over it.

“Black lace huh?”, he grinned, seeing her color even further, “Nice underwear Miki.”

Done with his teasing, she pushed his head back down, muffling his laughter by putting her legs on his shoulders while he pocketed the stolen piece of her clothing. Normally, Eren would have no problem with going slow, licking her until she would squirm against him, begging for more friction. But Levi was sitting alone at the table, and there was the small possibility of him wondering where they went for this long and searching for them. Eren did value his life too much for that to happen. So after wetting her with his tongue, he slid in two fingers instead, curling them, searching for and finding the spot inside that made her melt. With her slit occupied, his mouth was free to focus on her clit, feeling the effect he had on her in the pull at his hair, the keening that she muffled by biting down on her forearm, the increasing pressure of her legs around his neck, and of course the way her hips ground into his face, chasing her finish. He gave it to her, making her eyes roll back, crying out, the sound audible even with her efforts to be silent, which were made even vainer by the way he stimulated her through her finish, leaving her body only when she was completely done.

“I’m going out first.”, Eren said, standing up and watching the mess he made of her. Mikasa’s pupils were blown, her breathing uneven, chest heaving. Her legs were still spread, obscenely, and he could see the red marks on her arm, where she bit herself to keep quiet. “Take a minute, fix your dress, and follow me after. If he would see us returning together, your brother might get some ideas.”

He stretched his neck, feeling faint phantom of an ache there. It was clear that he’s going to have some bruises, from the way her thighs pressed into the sides of his head, but those were completely worth it. Bending down, he kissed her hair, quickly exiting the stall and closing after himself, giving her a moment to recover. Only when Mikasa came back to her senses, she realized one thing. That bastard didn’t give her the panties back.

Something sharp dug into Eren’s foot, stopping his trip down the memory lane. It was Mikasa, of course, using the heel of her stiletto to get his attention, in the subtlest way she could think of. Looking up at her face, he got scared for a second, seeing the red spot on the scar, as if it somehow opened and started bleeding again, but his worries got put to rest when he realized that its only ketchup from the fries he was so unjustly robbed of.

“Babe,”, she began, watching him intently while he did his best to clean that jumpscare from her pretty face, “I want ice cream.”

It was late. Well, early, like one or two in the morning, the sky above their heads as dark as it could possibly get. The logical thing would be to just head home and call it a night, not giving in to the random taste craving Mikasa had. But why should Eren ever concern himself with what was logical, when just being with her made him feel so warm inside that the chilly night air didn’t affect him in the slightest. Jumping down from the hood of the car, Eren offered her a hand, although he doubted that she needed it, being as athletic and graceful as she was, but then again, the heels of her shoes were killer ones, and the last thing he wanted was for his angel to trip and fall.

“Then let’s go get some.”

#snk #fanfic #eremika #smut #aot #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman

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