#but what i really wanna get is the fuckin. double oc

[sinecosinewheel]

urgh. im gonna vent about smth stupid to avoid my actual problems

[toxicanonymity]

twin peaks.

4k, Joel x afab!reader x Tommy, ONE SHOT A/N: This is my @pedrostories secret santa gift. @endlessthxxghts, you're on my nice list. Happy holidays! ♥️ Ty for the flexibility and for engaging with fics you like, which gave more ideas 🖤. Please excuse the extra men, don't need to remember names. Ty @jksprincess10 for your afab insights! WARNINGS: I8+, Motorcycle Club AU, but Joel is no longer riding. You're a chef. Language. Bar fight. Blood. Gunfire. My first attempt at mild grumpy/sunshine. Passing reference to a bar server's prior SA incident. An OC gets in your personal space and touches your side. Hurt/Comfort. Minor love triangle, I guess, but everyone’s cool. Unsafe P in V, creampies. MFM but only joel inside. The men can lift you. You’re shorter than them. Competency kink, mild size kink, sharing. Starts in Joel POV. There are a few characters from The Bikeriders. BIKER JOEL RECS: both sides of the moon by @lunitawrites and (and ty for this list luna lol)  a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore., the road to love by @jobean12-blog

dividers from @cafekitsune for POV change and time jump

“Changed the recipe,” Joel grumbles. 

Tommy shakes his head with a smile. “Ya know, brother. . . you might be the only one who comes here for the wings.” 

“Cause they’re the best. Or they *were*. Taste this.” Joel pushes the basket over to Tommy and takes a swig of beer, then adds, “If I wanna see some skin, I’ll go to a proper titty bar.”

The uniforms are cute at Twin Peaks, but Joel is there for two reasons: the wings and the company. He sold his Harley and quit the club after a minor accident. It left him only a little scraped up but scared his daughters to death. Now these biker bars are the only place he sees his old crew.

“Shit, they did change it,” Tommy concedes. “Maybe ya should send’em back,” he teases.

“Not a bad idea,” Joel mutters. 

“Really?” Tommy asks. 

“‘S’cuse me. Miss?” The scantily clad server turns around. “They musta changed the recipe, I can’t eat these.” 

“Oh no,” the server frowns. “Sorry ‘bout that, lemme see what I can do.” The server takes the wings back to the kitchen. 

-

A minute later, you emerge from the kitchen in your chef’s whites and Joel does a double take. You smile at him as you approach. 

“Oh, shit,” Tommy elbows him, but Joel hardly notices. He’s captivated by you, but he keeps a straight face. 

“Heard the wings weren’t to your liking,” you cringe empathetically. 

“Why’d ya go and change the Hot Honey recipe.”

“I’m sorry, hun. Hot Honey’s off the menu, that’s the closest we’ve got.”

“It’s *what* now? Why’d ya take it off?”

You sigh with an apologetic smile. “Wasn’t my call.” Then you perk up. “But I think you might really like the new Thai Spice recipe,” you smile.

“Don’t think so,” Joel grumbles. 

“He don’t like change,” Tommy explains. 

“How ‘bout a basket on the house?” You offer with a tilt of your head and raise of your eyebrows. 

Joel is flustered by your charm. “Uh, sure,” he mutters, trying not to check you out. Not much to see anyway with that chef’s apron.

“If ya like’em, buy me a drink sometime,” you add with a wink that makes Joel lose all his thoughts for a moment. 

“Yes, chef,” Joel nods, which makes both you and Tommy giggle. Then you turn and head back to the kitchen. 

“I dunno what they see in ya, man,” Tommy teases Joel and watches as you walk away. “Mm. Hottest thing here and dressed like a paper towel roll.” Joel fails to suppress a chuckle. “You gonna share?”

“We’ll see.”

-

The front door to the restaurant opens, and a hush falls over the dining room. 

Joel looks over his shoulder for only a second, then turns back toward the bar and mutters, “Fuckin’ Benny.”

“And the Jets,” Tommy adds as Johnny and at least half the rival crew follow Benny into the restaurant. Great, there’s Cal, Carter’s rotten brother. Real bad guy. Their motorcycle club is dangerous.

Joel gets his wallet out of his pocket and pulls out a few twenties, then downs the rest of his beer. “Didn’t come to babysit.”

“Think it’ll get ugly?” Tommy asks. “What about your new friend?”

“My new friend?” 

“‘member what happened with Carter’s girl?” Of course Joel remembers. Cal got handsy with her, Carter put him in a chokehold, and a nasty fight broke out. Carter got stabbed.

“Well, I ain’t in charge and don’t got a sweetheart, so I reckon chef hottie’s okay. Where’s Carter?” 

“Home. Can’t ride, already busted his stitches open once.” 

“Good. His girl ain’t workin’ either.” Joel’s face tenses and his nostrils flare as his gaze falls on Cal. “Cal shouldn’t be here.” Joel has to look away before his rage gets the best of him. Joel glances at a table of his own guys (now Carter's), and he isn’t surprised to see one of his buddies putting on brass knuckles. Ya don’t stab the leader and get away with it, but Joel sure wishes this would go down somewhere else. Joel does a double take when he sees another man at the same table reach for his hip. “Damnit, Harold,” Joel whispers to himself. 

“Better hit the boys room ‘fore all hell breaks loose,” Tommy mutters and gets up from his chair. 

—---you—--

Tonight’s the first time you’ve spoken with Joel, but you’ve noticed him before. His quiet, dark gaze is hypnotizing. The girls are all over him, and he doesn’t show any interest. He sits there scowling with his drink. 

When the chatter of the restaurant abruptly dies down, a pit forms in your stomach. Heavy boots click on the floor, and it sounds like they’re slowly circling the room like sharks.  “Hey sweetheart,” Benny croons out of view in that deep, smooth voice. He looks like a young, brunette Elvis. “You new?”

“Started this week,” the new bartender answers bashfully. 

“Bet they didn’t teach ya the whole job. Benny'll show ya the ropes,” says a deep voice that makes you bristle. It’s smooth. Southern. Sinister. It's Cal. You can visualize his infectious wink. 

One of your cooks puts Joel’s new wing basket on expo.  You compose yourself and grab it with a smile. “I’ll take this one.” You put on your blinders and don’t make eye contact with any of the men, but you notice Tommy walk by, headed toward the back. 

Before you make it behind the bar, Cal intercepts you. “Whoa, what’s cookin’, baby? You believe this, Benny? Keepin’ top talent locked up in the back.” 

Benny’s too wrapped up with the server to respond. 

“Thanks for the snack,” Cal tells you with his eyes roving your apron as he reaches for the basket. You pull it back. “Hey, what’s under this, anyway?” He skims your apron from the side and crowds you against the wall. He braces his arm against the wall, over you. “Got one of them sexy uniforms under this?”

“Excuse me,” you say and try to duck under and around him. 

“I wouldn’t move, darlin’,” Cal taunts.

“What the hell are you doin’ back here,” a man asks behind Cal. 

Cal laughs and looks over his shoulder, and you manage to free yourself. 

“Ain’t worth it, Harold,” Joel warns as he approaches, then Joel turns his attention to you. “You okay?”

-. . .-

Joel gets between you and the brawling men. You hear a blow land on someone, and they spit. Then there’s a click, and before you know it, you’re on the floor, tackled by Joel as a gunshot makes your ears ring. The wind is knocked out of you. 

Joel is on top of you, and time seems to slow down. Cal is slumped against the wall behind Joel, bleeding from the mouth and chest with a menacing smile. 

“Look at me,” Joel says and his massive hand turns your head to face him, bracing his other arm near your head on the tiled floor. “Look at me and only me.” His body is heavy on top of yours. 

You nod as chaos unfolds in the dining room. 

“You okay?” Joel searches your face. 

You nod again, and try to ground yourself with everything you’re physically feeling. The coldness of the tile under your hand. The weight of his body on top of you. The warmth of. . .the massive bulge pressing into your thigh. Joel doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but you sure are now. A wave of desire overwhelms you. Your thigh lifts against his hardening package and it twitches but he still doesn’t seem to notice with everything else going on. He glances behind himself.  

“Gonna get ya outta here,” he promises. “Ready?”

Behind you, someone opens the door to the men’s room, belt jingling. “Shit.” You recognize Tommy’s voice. 

“Bathroom,” Joel commands as he helps you up, then gently pushes you into Tommy’s arms. He nods toward the family restroom, which has a lock. “Gonna take this outside,” Joel pants as he heads into the fray.

“Joel, don’t–you’re outnumbered, don’t get yourself killed,” Tommy pleads.  There’s another gunshot. “Shit, I’ll be right there!” he shouts at Joel

“NO,” Joel barks. 

-

Tommy forces you into the family restroom and locks the door behind the two of you. “You okay?” he asks. You don’t answer.  You wouldn’t be able to without crying. He rubs your back, then searches your face. “Breathe for me, darlin’.”

You tug at the high collar of your chef’s apron, trying to unbutton it for relief.  Tommy quickly rips it open, exposing your tank top. His eyes linger for a moment, then he cradles your head and takes a deep breath, guiding you in your own breathing. He exhales, then murmurs, “You’re okay, honey.” 

You nod and take the apron off entirely, with him supporting you. “Yeah,” you laugh not to cry, but with tears in your eyes. “I’m good.” 

“Good, good. C’mere, darlin’.” His strong arms wrap you in a gentle, protective hug, cradling your head into his barrel chest. You take a deep breath, and the scent of his shampoo intoxicates you. “You’re okay,” he repeats. 

You pull your head back to look up at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches. Then something else twitches, against your middle.  That’s when you feel the denim slide under your hand and realize you’ve grabbed Tommy’s ass. What the fuck. You yank your hand out of his back pocket and stammer “Sorry–” feeling like your face is on fire. Why did you do that? You try to pull away but he gently holds you close. 

“‘S’okay,” he chuckles. “Adrenaline. It’s normal.” He dips his head and it’s close to yours. It gets a little closer, then there’s more gunfire and he releases his gentle hold on you. He bolts toward the door. “Lock it behind me” is the only thing he says as he leaves. 

You lock the door, then slump down against the wall. Is this real life? What’s gotten into you? Feeling up Tommy Miller in the bathroom less than an hour after you asked his brother out. Yeah, it must be adrenaline. The noise of the fight fades into the background while your thoughts drift back to Joel saving you. He’s so big and strong. So protective. You’ve heard how dangerous he is, but to see him in action? While he’s saving you, no less? 

-

Finally the noises have died down. You wonder if it’s safe to leave. You worry about whether Joel and Tommy and your line cooks are okay. You wait a little longer, then unlock the door and peek your head out. Cal staggers toward you, dripping blood. “It’s okay, I’m alright,” he drawls. Then you swiftly close and lock the door, heart pounding. A few seconds later, boots thud across the dining room and a punch is thrown. You hear Cal groan. “C’mon, man.” Another blow lands and Cal goes silent. There’s a knock at the bathroom door. 

“It’s me.” Joel’s voice. You’re still near the door. You unlock it for him. He comes inside and you must look terrified. He holds your cheeks, and his face and shirt are splattered with blood - surely not his own. He hugs you into him. “It’s me, baby. You’re okay.” His voice is deep and soft. He holds you for a minute. When he pulls back again to look at you, his eyes fall to your tank top and he wets his lips. He looks in your eyes again, then at your mouth. 

You close the distance with a soft kiss. Joel’s mouth spreads your lips open, and his tongue finds yours. As the kiss heats up, he pulls you tighter, moaning “Mm,” and you feel it again, you feel him. His hands slide down to grab your ass, pulling your hips into his, and he’s firmer. Lord, is he hung. He lets out a low growl from his chest, and he walks forward against you until the backs of his hands nudge the sink counter – thankfully clean. 

He bends down and his mouth latches onto your neck. He slips his fingertips into the front waistband of your pants, grabbing the button, then pulls away from your neck to pleadingly meet your eyes, and you nod urgently. He takes your pants and underwear down in a flash, then his hand engulfs your bare pussy and he groans at how wet you are. He kisses your neck again for a moment before hooking his massive hands, one of them wet, around the backs of your thighs. He lifts you onto the sink with a grunt as your legs wrap around him and you feel a rush of desire.

Joel sloppily kisses around your mouth with one hand between your legs and the other cradling your head. His scruff scratches you pleasantly. You grope him through his jeans, which are slick with your arousal, as you unbutton and unzip him. Then his own hand dives into his boxers and frees his thick cock, holding it at the right angle to slide right into you, pants and boxers resting below his balls.

“C’mere, baby.” He runs his stiff cock through your folds and you slowly grind against it with a moan. He spits on his shaft and his swollen, leaking tip prods at your entrance for only a moment before plunging into your wet hole and spreading your insides with his girth. There’s a brief burn, then your body catches up. On his second go, he bottoms out with a groan, and you gasp.

 “Yeah,” he sighs and begins to fuck you, slowly at first. “How’s that?” 

You can only nod, feeling so full of him you can hardly listen or form thoughts.  “Ohh,” you whimper as he stuffs you with his massive cock. Your skin feels hot. He speeds up to a moderate pace and you both moan and grunt as you fuck. He kisses and sucks your neck, moaning into your skin, then he breathes against it. He fucks you harder, deeper

“How’s it feel, baby–ohhh” He slams his pelvis into yours each time. 

“Ohhh, God, it’s, yeah, nngh–ohh”

Footsteps come down the hall, and stop outside the door. 

“Wait,” you whisper.”

“Want me to wait?” he whispers teasingly, slowing down to an excruciating pace, dragging slow and heavy inside you. 

You shake your head no. 

“Good,” he whispers. 

Tommy’s knowing voice outside the door: “Catch y’all later.” Then the footsteps recede. 

“Now please, please” you beg, wanting it harder again. You pull him close and grind your pelvis into his in just the right spot. “Ohh, Joel.” The pleasure overwhelms you and you whimper as you begin to clench and pulse. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, “Where do you want it?” 

“Right here,” you nod, pulling him closer, keeping him inside with your legs around him. 

Joel erupts with a groan, filling your hot, wet cunt with warm bursts, slowly thrusting into you as he empties his balls. 

“God damn, you’re somethin’ else.” 

---a few weeks later—

"Ain't wearin' a stupid holiday sweater," Joel grumbles. You and Joel have been seeing each other, and now you're going to Tommy’s holiday party with him.

"C'mon, just for the party. It'll be fun," you smile hopefully.

"Gimme a break, baby. Nothin' fun about sweaters."

"Don't be a Grinch," you pout.

"Thought I was a Scrooge," he retorts. 

"What if I let you fuck me in Tommy's bed?"

He squints at you. "God damnit, my heart just grew three sizes."

You look down at his jeans and smile saucily. You don't have to make the joke out loud. "Can't wait," you purr and hand him the sweater.  

"Tommy'd lose his mind," Joel shakes his head, then raises his eyebrows. "And not in the bad way." 

"Oh yeah?"

Joel gives a low whistle. "You should see him droolin' when ya walk away." Joel chuckles, and your face heats up. 

"Well. Maybe we shouldn't, then. . ."

"Don't see why not," Joel shrugs. 

You look away shyly.

"What's got you all flustered?" 

"Nothing," you shake your head, but you can't push away the thought of Tommy walking in and losing his 'mind.' 

Joel smirks. "Don't look like nothin'."

"Just excited to see you in a sweater," you run your hand through his curls. 

"I ain't the jealous type if ya wanna give Tommy some sugar, too."

You gasp and can't hide your embarrassed smile. Your face is burning. "He told you.” 

Joel plays stupid. “Told me what?” 

Your hand drifts up to cover your mouth. 

“Just sayin’, if ya wanna grab him in a nicer setting. . .”

“Joel!" You gently smack his chest. 

“Musta been the highlight of his life,” Joel laughs. “Post-divorce, at least.” 

"Naughty list for you." You press his sweater into his chest and go to the closet to change into your own. 

----

When you’re standing at the door of Tommy’s ranch, your heart is racing. 

“Relax, baby.” He rubs your back. 

“You were serious?” you ask. 

“Yeah, but ya don’t gotta. Just sayin’ it’s fair game.” 

Your eyes meet and he cups your cheek. You whisper, “thanks for wearing the sweater.” 

Joel gives you a kiss right as the door opens, and Tommy teases, “You two need a room already?” Tommy’s wearing a festive cardigan open over a wifebeater and his huge belt buckle. He stands aside to let you in, and you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your mouth. 

Sarah brings her husband, and you spend much of the night talking to them, hearing old stories about Joel. It’s a small party, adults only, and most of the parents have to get home to their babysitters, but Ellie is staying at Bill and Frank’s for the week to help with their Christmas tree farm. It’s a real treat for her and also her first “job.” 

—

You don’t steal Joel away during the party, and he doesn’t try either. But when everyone else is gone, you and Joel stay for a drink with Tommy. He offers that you’re welcome to stay over since the kids are with Maria. 

“Where ya want us?” Joel asks. 

“Well, my bed’s the most comfy,” Tommy looks at you and adds a wink that gives you butterflies. 

Joel nods with an intrigued frown. “Whatcha think, honey?”

“Okay,” you nod. You’re afraid to act too eager, but can hardly believe your luck. 

-

In Tommy’s room, Tommy reclines on the bed, while Joel holds you in a hug. Joel turns your chin to meet his eyes and asks “Comfortable?”

You nod and smile. 

“Ready to be even more comfortable?” 

Joel kisses you gently, sensually. Then his lips become hungrier, and you lose yourself in his rising desperation. He moans into your mouth and pulls you closer against him. He walks against you until you’re at the bed, and when you glance back to make sure you don’t fall, you see Tommy reclining with his ankles crossed, palming himself over his jeans. He holds your gaze and begins to undo that big belt buckle, and you get a rush of arousal. 

With you seated on the bed and Joel looms over you. The curves of his hulking muscles stretch his sweater. Your eyes fall to his jeans, and you can see the outline of his massive erection. You reach for the button and he murmurs, “yeah, there ya go,” and affectionately cradles your head while you unbutton and unzip him. Then he takes his sweater off over his head and his under-tee rides up exposing his happy trail. “Let’s get that sweater off, Tommy.” 

You turn around and see Tommy is on all fours with his cardigan already off. He’s prowling across the bed, to the foot of it where you sit. Tommy sits up on his knees behind you, and wraps his arms around. He lifts at the bottom hem of your sweater and brings his mouth to your ear to murmur, “Yeah, let’s get comfortable.” You raise your arms and he takes off the sweater for you then cups your breasts. You pull off your bra from under your tank top while Joel takes off his jeans. 

“Shit, let’s take it all off,” Tommys says with his voice briefly muffled by his wifebeater as he pulls it over his head. “Nothin’ like three bare bodies all twisted up.” His giant belt clinks as he unbuckles it behind you. Joel steps out of his jeans, leaving the tent in his boxers on full display, making you gush. He bends down to help take your tank top off, then he kisses you as he unfastens your pants. Joel kisses down your body as he removes your pants and underwear. 

“Come on up here,” Tommy mutters and wraps an arm around you. He pulls you up toward the pillows, then stacks them behind himself and pulls you between his legs where you can feel he is fully nude and hard. His skin is hot and smooth. You're both facing Joel. 

You sit between Tommy’s moderately hairy legs, and his broad palms cup your naked breasts. “How ya doin’, darlin’?” he whispers into your ear. His cock twitches against your lower back. “Ready for my brother?”

You nod, “Yeah.” 

“He’s ready too.”

Joel is kneeling onto the bed with his commanding cock in hand. He pauses to squeeze himself, eyes roving over you like you’ve never looked hotter. “Look like an angel, baby. Can’t wait to be in ya.” Tommy lightly grinds himself against your lower back, then his hands come to your thighs, and you spread them open for Joel. 

“Always so good,” Joel mumbles, then kisses you deeply and you feel his cock run through your dripping seam.  You’re wet, so wet for him. He’s still kissing you, letting your lips separate every second or so.  His face pulls back and Tommy slightly adjusts you between his legs. Tommy’s cock is stiff against your back. Joel’s tip nudges your entrance, then he pushes himself into you. Tommy’s hands are still on your breasts. Joel leans over you, bracing his hands on the bed to either side of Tommy’s thighs. It still makes you swoon how his big cock stuffs you full. As Joel thrusts into you, Tommy ruts against you, moaning softly. The force of Joel’s thrusts makes you rub against Tommy’s stiff manhood and he groans.

“Feel so good, baby,” Joel breathes. 

“Take’ him so well,” Tommy  whispers. 

Your breath hitches and you moan into Joel’s mouth with his cock dragging thickly deep inside you. Tommy massages your breasts and grinds into you while Joel kisses you and fucks you good. It feels better and better every minute. Joel dips his hips and grinds against your front as he stuffs  you with his cock. You feel the tension building in your belly, and your clit twitches. 

You tear your mouth away from Joel’s and whine, “Joel.”

“Oh, baby, gonna cum already?”

You whimper and nod. 

“It’s okay, baby. Go ‘head,” Tommy whispers. 

“Yeah, let it happen, baby,” Joel agrees. 

Then Joel, with his cock still seated inside you, rolls his hips to put more pressure on your front, and  Tommy grinds against your lower back, and you clench down on Joel’s cock with a moan. 

“Oh, Fuck,” Joel whispers and he begins to pulse at the exact same time you feel Tommy erupt against you. The three of you come in a cacophony of grunts and moans and Tommy’s sliding wetly against your crack as his cum trickles down. 

Joel stays inside as he catches his breath, then slides out of you, and some of his cum drips down between Tommy’s legs. 

“Think ya might be the one I been lookin' for,” Joel mumbles. He gives you a slow kiss.

You get cleaned up, then you sleep like three spoons stacked together with Joel in front. 

===

Thank you for reading!

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

[drabbles-mc]

Flying In (1)

Mayans MC & Narcos Crossover

For @narcosfandomdiscord's Day of Cross-Fandom Pollination: create a fanwork that includes at least one Narcos character and at least one character from another fandom

Warnings: 18+, language, canon-typical shenanigans of both shows

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: The way that this started out as just a silly little idea that me and Anj had. And now I wanna write a whole novel about them all sksksk. I already plan to write another installment of this universe for another day in the challenge, because @garbinge was kind enough to loan me her OC Lara Losa, but here is the first little look behind the curtain! I can't wait to write more with all of them.

Chapter Index

Flying In Taglist: @ashlingnarcos @hausofmamadas @narcolini @cositapreciosa @justreblogginfics @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

When Lara walked into the clubhouse, she found Bishop sitting at one of the tables, phone pressed to his ear. The heel of his other hand was pressed into the space between his eyebrows, and even though most of his face was blocked, Lara could still see the annoyed frown on his face. Even if she hadn’t been looking at him, she could’ve guessed that that was the expression on his face, and nine times out of ten she would’ve been right.

“Yeah,” he said into the phone, “sounds good. See you then.” He ended the call and immediately tossed his phone onto the table with a groan. “Fuck me.”

She would’ve felt bad for laughing at his response if he wasn’t like that so often. “Sounded like a fun call,” she said as she pulled out the chair across from him and plopped down.

He tried to give her an annoyed look but it only lasted for a couple seconds before he caved and chuckled. “Not fun for me. Might end up being fun for you, though.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, really?” She drummed her fingertips against the tabletop. “Color me curious.”

Bishop sighed. “That was your Tío Gilberto. Updating me on his fuckin’ travel plans.”

“No shit?”

“Yeah.”

Lara laughed. “Thought you’d be a little more excited to see your brother.”

He shot her a look. “It’s not like he’s here for a fuckin’ vacation, Lalo.”

She rolled her eyes at him with a smile as she leaned back in her chair. “What, you don’t think that he’s coming to nice, scenic Santo Padre just to unwind?”

“No,” he said flatly, not feeding into the game she was trying to play, “I don’t.”

“Why are you acting like this is the first time he’s come here for business? Just upset that he’s not flying all the way up here just to see you?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“So?” Lara pressed. “What’s the problem this time? Old shit or new shit?”

Bishop gave a reply that fell outside both the choices she’d given him. “He’s not traveling alone.”

“Nicolás?”

He huffed. “No.”

Another second of looking at the expression on his face caused all of the pieces to come together for Lara. His annoyance, his hesitation, his assumption that she was going to be excited about the news. It’d been a handful of years since the last time she’d seen him, but she had a good feeling that it was the right guess. “Chepe?” she asked, far more excited and hopeful than she knew she should’ve been given her father’s prevalent annoyance.

“The one and fuckin’ only,” he grumbled.

Lara burst out laughing, excitedly treating the table they were sitting at like a drum as she rapped against it. “Let’s go!”

Bishop shook his head at her. “You’re ridiculous. Two peas in a fuckin’ pod, both of you.”

“That why you only let him visit once every five years?” she asked through her laughter. When Bishop didn’t come back with an answer, she moved onto her next question. “When do they get here?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

If she had been standing, she would’ve been nearly doubled over with laughter. “Finally learned not to give you too much of a heads-up. No excuses this way.” Taking a deep breath to get herself calm again, she said, “I can pick them up from the airport if you—”

“Absolutely not.”

“You think they’re gonna get in the van with the fucking prospect?” she asked with a scoff as she gestured over to the bar where EZ stood. She continued before Bishop could argue. “And I know you don’t wanna make that drive.”

He knew that she was right on both counts. There was no way that either of those men were going to get into a vehicle with some guy they’ve never met before, even if he was wearing the same kutte as Bishop’s. They knew Taza and Hank, but Bishop also didn’t really want to send them on the errand either.

“Fine,” he finally gave in with a grumble. Before Lara could get too excited, he pointed his finger at her accusingly. “But you’re not fuckin’ going alone.”

That was a compromise that Lara could live with. She was going through the roster in her head, people that Bishop would feel somewhat comfortable sending with her versus people she wanted to be trapped in a car with for the drive. There was also the extra layer of who she thought would be able to survive being trapped in the van with her two uncles.

Before she could even ask the question, the answer came striding through the door. A satisfied smile crossed her face as she pointed to who had just walked through the door. “Fine. I’ll take Angel.”

At the sound of his name, his head whipped to look at the table. “Take Angel where?”

“Airport,” she replied. “Finally getting rid of you for good. One way ticket to—”

“You’re helping her with a pick-up,” Bishop cut his daughter’s comedic routine short.

Angel strolled over to the table and rested his hand on the back of Lara’s chair. He looked back and forth between the two of them and tried to figure out what was going on without having to ask. “Pick-up?”

“My brother’s flying in,” Bishop answered.

Angel nodded in understanding, although he couldn’t hide the look of mild surprise on his face. “Shit. Alright.”

“Day after tomorrow you’re going with Lara to pick them up.”

“Them?” Angel asked.

Lara was practically giddy. “Tío Chepe is coming too.”

Angel’s brows knit in confusion. “Do I know him?”

Bishop shook his head. “You’d know if you knew him.” He paused to sigh before looking back at Angel again. “Keep both of them out of trouble.”

“Your brothers?”

Bishop gestured to Lara. “Her and Chepe. And he’s not my fuckin’ brother.”

The comment got a laugh out of both Lara and Angel, who held his hands up in surrender. “Only one brother. Got it.”

The day of their arrival came far too soon for Bishop’s liking. Before he knew it, he was meeting up with Lara and Angel at the clubhouse early in the morning to give her the van and send them on their way. It was the only time Bishop could remember Angel being early for anything.

“Keep me updated,” Bishop said as Lara swiped the keys away from him.

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied flippantly as she unlocked the doors.

“Wasn’t talking to you,” Bishop said as he turned and looked at Angel. It was a sad state of affairs when he had to trust Angel to be one of the most responsible ones in a group of people, but that’s where they were at. “Got it?”

Angel nodded, knowing that there was only one right answer. “Got it.”

The two of them were a few minutes into their trek when Angel finally ventured to ask, “So what’s the deal with your uncles, then? Them and Bish, I mean.”

Lara glanced over at him for a moment before putting her eyes back on the road. “You’ve met Gilberto before, haven’t you?”

“Not really. Seen him, but Bish usually handles whatever they’ve got going on with him and Galindo. I don’t ask.”

She chuckled. “Smart.”

“What’s Bish’s deal with this Chepe dude?”

Lara laughed. “My dad hates anyone who finds a way to have a good time at all costs.” She paused. “I can’t believe you’ve never met him. Can’t believe it’s been that long.”

“What’s he like?” Angel’s curiosity had been piqued since they previously brought him up, but he didn’t want to ask about him in front of Bishop.

She spared him another brief glance, a mischievous look on her face. “You just have to meet him.”

The response didn’t bring Angel any comfort in the slightest, but he knew better than to try and press her for answers that she had no intention of giving. That was one thing that she and her father had in common. Instead he just settled back into his seat and watched the road, doing his best to not be a backseat driver.

If Chepe and Gilberto hadn’t walked out the door right beside each other and holding a conversation, no one would’ve known that they were traveling together. Gilberto had stepped off the plane in a suit—Lara was fairly certain that the closest she’d ever seen her uncle get to lounge wear was business causal. And even then, that was a rare sight. Chepe on the other hand showed up looking like he was actually on vacation. He had his aviators on as they strolled down the walkway, suitcases in tow, with a casual striped button-down on with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. The gold necklace he was wearing standing out against the white t-shirt he had on underneath—he’d even traded in his khakis for jeans.

Both of them broke out into grins when they saw Lara waiting beside the van in the pick-up area. She held her arms out for a hug as she approached them both. She stepped in to give Gilberto a hug first, kissing him on the cheek as she did so.

“Mija,” he said with a laugh. “More grown up every time I see you.”

She stepped back, smiling and shaking her head as his hands remained on the outsides of her arms for a moment longer, like he was updating the image of her that was in his head. “Gotta visit more than once or twice a year, Tío.”

Chepe chimed in before Gilberto even got the chance to. “Take that up with your father,” his tone was serious when he said the statement, but it was immediately followed by a wide grin and a laugh.

Lara immediately beamed and stepped over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Chepe!” She laughed as he swept her up off her feet in a hug.

“Lalita,” he set her down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “mi muñeca. It’s been too long.”

She let out a dramatic sigh as she fixed her hair. “I know—I’ll work on getting my dad to lift the embargo.”

Angel stood back, watching the two of them as they laughed together. It was a lot to take in, seeing her like that. It wasn’t as though she turned into a completely different person around her uncles, but he certainly felt like a different side to her—a side that he had never had the opportunity to see before. This certainly wasn’t how she acted with the only other family he knew of hers, Bishop.

Chepe playfully nudged Lara’s shoulder as he looked Angel up and down. “Quién es este mari—”

Lara elbowed him with a chuckle and a shake of her head. Some things weren’t ever going to change. “This is Angel—he’s in the club with my dad.” Turning, she looked at Angel. “Angel, this is my Tío Gilberto,” she nodded towards the man in question before resting her hand on Chepe’s shoulder, “and my Tío Chepe.”

Lara couldn’t have been more casual about the introduction if she had tried, and yet Angel still found himself standing there feeling like sweat was about to start pooling in his palms. Clearing his throat, he quickly and discreetly wiped his hand against his jeans before holding it out for Giberto to shake. “Nice to meet you.” He repeated the process with Chepe, neither man emoting one way or the other how they felt about him. Angel, based off years of experience, took it to be a bad sign even though he had no real evidence of that.

There wasn’t much more to be said as they started putting Chepe and Gilberto’s luggage into the back of the van. None of them started an actual discussion about who was going to be sitting where, but when Chepe went to reach for the front passenger-side door, Angel didn’t speak up to try and stop him. If he was going to be sitting next to someone besides Lara for the whole drive back, he supposed he was fine with it being Gilberto. Angel felt like sitting next to Gilberto meant there was less likelihood of him being pushed out of the van while it was still moving.

The ride back was uneventful despite Angel’s spiraling internal monologue. He listened to Lara chat with both her uncles. Some of it he could only catch bits and pieces of when they were speaking primarily in Spanish. It was evident that she didn’t speak it as much as her uncles, because why would she have to? But she spoke a lot more than Angel probably ever would. It was enough for him to try to have to use context clues for some of the things that were brought up. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem like they were discussing anything too serious.

When they pulled into the lot at the clubhouse, it felt like everything else came to a bit of a standstill. While Gilberto had made a habit over the years of visiting far more frequently than Chepe, it wasn’t as though he spent an awful lot of time at the clubhouse when he did. Most of the members who’d been around for more than a couple years had seen him and knew who he was, but most hadn’t ever really gotten a formal introduction. As far as Bishop was concerned, they didn’t need one. Since Chepe tagged along for the first time in a long time, however, Bishop had the feeling that this stint in the states was going to be just as much social as it was business.

Chepe and Lara were chatting as they got out of the van, not in any great rush to get into the throes of things. Unsure of what else to do, Angel tagged along a couple steps behind Gilberto as he went to greet his brother. Chepe lingered by the back of the van with Lara while she discouraged him from taking their luggage out of the van because she was going to drop them off at whatever hotel they were staying at once they checked in with Bishop.

“I’m sure Tío Gilberto already has the Benz he rented parked in the valet lot there anyway.” She glanced over at him. “Looks like if you wanna go out and have fun you’ll have to either call me or an Uber.”

Chepe laughed and shook his head but didn’t speak up to disagree with her. Regaining his composure just slightly, he gave a small nod in Angel’s direction as he said, “You should be making him drive you around.”

Lara scoffed even though her face warmed at the comment. “Angel? Please. There’s a reason I was behind the wheel going to pick you guys up today.”

“Lalo,” he chided with a shake of his head. “Don’t start treating me like I’m old and senile. Save that for Gilberto.”

She laughed as she tried to divert the conversation for her own sake. “I don’t know—it has been a while since I’ve seen you.”

He was still smiling as he pulled her in, pretending to go for a headlock. “Not that long.” He paused, and when Lara didn’t say anything, he asked, “So he doesn’t know, then?”

Lara followed Chepe’s eyeline and saw that he was looking at her father now. Picking a story and sticking to it, she did her best to sound confident as she said, “There’s nothing for him to know, Tío.”

Chepe hummed, clearly not convinced but deciding that he’d bring it up again at a later date. Maybe he’d bring it up to Angel and see if they both had the same story. He kissed Lara on the side of the head to conclude their conversation before moving on to finally greeting Bishop. He smiled wide, holding his arms out for a hug as he approached him. He called out, “Obispo!” in such a friendly tone that anyone who didn’t know better would’ve thought that they were old friends.

The less than amused look on Bishop’s face was the only thing that gave away the reality of the situation. He didn’t deny Chepe the hug, but he certainly wasn’t as enthusiastic about it. “Chepe,” he said with not nearly as much cheer. “Was starting to think you were gone for good.”

Chepe clapped him on the back once more with another laugh before pulling away. “Life isn’t that easy for you, Obispo. Besides,” he gestured towards Lara, “I know you miss me just as much as my niece does.”

Bishop scoffed. “Just about.”

“Good thing Gilberto and I haven’t bought our return tickets then, hm?” He beamed. “Make up for some lost time.”

Bishop sucked in a deep breath, one that gave a noticeable rise to his chest and shoulders. He managed to fight every impulsive comment that crossed his mind, finally watering them down and settling on, “Can’t fuckin’ wait.”

[lonepower]

oh I completely forgot to actually post my one single liveblog post i just saved it as a draft lmao. anyway if anyone wants my realtime Romulus Thoughts (tl;dr it's good) here ya go~

oh hey it starts on my birthday!! already a good sign <3

the audio quality on this cam is only a little bad but i cannot understand anyone for Shit. the 2 identical british dudes especially are basically speaking Peanuts Parentsese. i've been spoiled rotten by the shift to streaming and need my subtitles ))):

i really like this actress, she reminds me of someone - daisy ridley or summer glau maybe? she's so cute uvu

oh i want her and Pretty Hair to kiss so bad. she looks like she's shaping up to be the final girl though so i should probably not get too attached to anyone else, rip

ohhhhhhhhhh here we go

man I REALLY wanna know what their homeworld is like. I mean like the actual original world they came from instead of whatever time travel shit or w/e that prometheus was on, idk i blocked it from my memory. anyway there's so much about their design & behavior that seems like they're meant to be amphibious/semiaquatic to me? they're about the right size to fill the same niche as sharks or crocodiles, too...... did hr giger actually think about this stuff or was he just like "hey you know what would be fucked up"

rip bald girl we hardly knew ye. you were facehugged on all those posters anyway so i'm glad you weren't interesting

awwwww, no, man, don't, don't do that, that's not cool. why do we gotta do this. cmon. fuckin nightmarish

 

I'M A SHAM. A FRAUD. I HAD TO DOUBLE CHECK THE ROOT ON WIKTIONARY AND THE PLAGIARISM MACHINE WAS RIGHT. MY CREDIBILITY IS RUINED

girl go see a gynecologist or something i don't think that's a normal pussy pH

hnnNNnggH i'm ngl though that was. hot. also a very satisfying death for my least favorite character. i hope it hurt as much as it looked like it did 🤭

LAUREL IS CANON????? man she was a fun oc i should play around w her some more. love me some xeno gene therapy gone wrong. better hope the canon version doesn't fuck you up the same way<3

LMAOOOO NOT 2 MINUTES LATER!!!! EXACTLY THE SAME WAY! i'm so delighted my cringe nae nae river-tam-expy science-experiment mary sue is explicitly canon compliant now. this is great. oh my god.

Oh This Will Go Well

•HAROLD.............................

oh this is a Cool setpiece that seems very ill-advised

...yep. nicely foreshadowed, too

• HEL FUCKING LO??????? 👁️👄👁️

XENOMORPH YURI REAL. GOD I WISH THAT WERE ME

okay wait on slowmo rewind #4 that's actually the one from before? i'm no less jealous but slightly more confused. xenomorph yuri is still real thank you god 🙏🙌

ohhhhhhh that's why. yeah that makes more sense lol.

oh to be tenderly rescued by a terrifying alien who's only saving my life so they can use my body for their own nefarious ends. who said that

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THEY WERE IN LOVE YOU DICK!!!!!!

also the bishop echo at the beginning was cute but this one didn't land. you can do better. :\

while we're still on the subject tho: i think we do need an Enemy Mine scenario with a xeno now. the yautja got one with scarlex. it's time. i deserve it

Oh here we go. xenomorph yuri real round 2(????)

HEY WAIT NO WHAT THE F U C K

honestly this is just an accurate representation of what normal human pregnancy sounds like to me. having a little creature burst out of your ribcage killing you instantly is Vastly preferable tbh

i think this thing is less unsettling than the newborn but only barely. like 0.4% less unsettling. what the fuck

average white man behavior

i like my idea better tbh. Pretty Hair deserves to be monsterified and Final Girl deserves a terrifying mutated alien gf. we could have had it aaaaaaaaalllllll

I DO appreciate the obvious resurrection parallel though. my black sheep most beloved getting the legitimacy & recognition it deserves 😔✊

in conclusion WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK. resurrection and avp will probably always be tied for my favorites and tbh I would rank 2 a little higher as well, but this was solidly middle of the pack which is a gargantuan fucking improvement. the main thing is that it was Actually Recognizably An Aliens Movie which, after the prometheus/covenant nightmare, is honestly the highest praise i can give. thank GOD

[1kook]

A COLLECTION  [ updated: 8 . 23 . 21 ]

— STATUS ONGOING — NO REPOSTS — ASKS under #ncouple ! — Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr

—NETFLIX & CHILL.

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.  warnings smut in the forms of grinding, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla unprotected sex, dirty talk misc use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc  word count 10.2k  posted june 12, 2020

—HULU & WOOHOO.

summary But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. warnings slight feelings of insecurity, smut in the forms of fingering, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, riding, slight praise kink  misc if you’re not a Jersey shore fan honestly GET OUT, mentions of capitalism😡, more kind/understanding kook, basically a “what are we?” fic but silly, irresponsible emailing habits, its so dumb just read word count 6.3k posted july 4, 2020

—IMAX & CLIMAX.

summary The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl (? kinda), daddy kink that morphs into ily kink misc  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count 9.8k posted august 5, 2020

—KISSANIME & FOREPLAY.

summary You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings mentions of hentai, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 word count 8.2k posted september 1, 2020

—DISNEY+ & BUST.

summary There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.   warnings arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of humiliation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment (? idk lol), unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, the return of mean jk, desperate jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf misc angst, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count 13k posted september 9, 2020

—ESPN & BDSM.

summary You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.   warnings smut in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink misc kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count 12.7k posted september 14, 2020

—YOUTUBE & USE LUBE.

summary You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube. warnings smut in the forms of nipple play, handjobs, spit kink, face riding, unprotected, flavored warming lube, riding, praise kink, soft femdom, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, tit sucking, tit fucking, more jk has an impreg kink, oh and this is all subby kook misc domesticity baby!! fluff, soft scenes /.\, jk is sick:((, doyeon is A Doctor, yn sees an opportunity and she grabs it, surprise ending <3 word count 8.7k   posted september 30, 2020

—VIKI & HICKEYS.

summary Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.   warnings a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries, jk is a good boy n I want him to be happy   misc there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide word count 16.3k posted january 14, 2021

—PEACOCK & SWEET TALK.

summary “I wanna watch Solange in Bring It On,” Jungkook smiles, and you have to wonder who exactly this blond man is and what he did with your teen-movie-hating boyfriend.   warnings smut in the forms of kissing, cunnilingus (eating out + fingering), light praise, a lil body worship, jk fat cawk, brief nipple play, playful jk, unprotected sex, riding and missionary, the jk hand kink, I love you kink, jk wants nudes, jk’s cheerleader fantasies mentioned, spit kink, light choking, jk has like a scent kink (?), mention of collars and pet play misc app developer jk becomes even MORE app developer-y, oc is anti-google, there's plot, a 2 year anniversary, Solange knowles appreciation, BLOND JK!!!, gets sappy for a sec, seahorse marriage mention, doyeon x joon side pairing, jk is disgustingly dreamy and oc is threatened by that fact word count 10.7k posted march 23, 2021

— CRUNCHYROLL & RAIL.

summary Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. warnings smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… misc fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality word count 8.7k posted may 21, 2021

—FUNIMATION & PROCREATION.

summary Never mind your upcoming wedding, this was perhaps the greatest moment of your life— the day Jungkook sought out an anime on his own. warnings kissing, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, cum eating, mentions of anal, doggy style, unprotected sex with the intention of pregnancy, spitting, hand holding<3 misc the wedding night, Doyeon strikes again, jjk watches  jjk, oh no not twins word count 9.1k posted july 31, 2021

—BOOMERANG AND BANG. 

coming soon

—COOKIES & CREAM.

summary Jungkook will watch a thousand cheesy Christmas movies if it meant making you happy. (And maybe having his dick sucked.) warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, face fucking, cum facials, fingering, overstim, double orgasm, r*mantic sex, riding, unprotected, cream pies, jk does this weird thing where he licks her face yeah idk, jk loves seeing his gf cry, jk has an obsession with jizz   misc jk pov !!, eggnog slander, jk hates xmas movies, oc dresses like a sexy mrs claus, Elf !!, jk is in loooove word count 7.1k posted december 23, 2020

— TUTUS & TIARAS.

summary your first pregnancy through the lens of your husband warnings smut in the forms of penetrative sex, sex while pregnant, unprotected sex, tit play, cunnilingus, mutual masturbation, sticking the tip in and jacking off/cockwarming?, creampies, nose kink (? like she grinds against his nose), infatuation with scent, frottage/grinding, lactation kink, titluvr jk [bass boosted] misc married ncouple <3, domesticity, jk pov, mood swings, pregnancy, GIRLDAD!JK, DILF!JK, pregnant!reader, jk’s kids are virgos its true  word count 10k posted august 23, 2021

— one.

summary Maybe Jungkook wasn’t always as cool and composed as you initially believed. But that’s okay, because you love him all the same.  word count 1.3k posted September 10, 2020

—two.

summary Even after all these years, all these doubts, and all this solitude that was really no one’s fault but his own, he still finds himself hoping that maybe you’ll be the one. word count 1k posted september 11, 2020

—three.

summary But Jungkook loves the sun. word count 1.5k posted september 12th, 2020

—four.

summary For the last ten minutes or so his mind has been bothered by one thing and one thing only— the hair that hung in his face. word count 800 words posted september 22, 2020

—five.

summary Startled and inexperienced, he can’t do anything but rub his hands over your back. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he murmurs, even though it’s not. word count 1.3k posted september 22, 2020

—six.

SUMMARY Jungkook enjoyed pushing you down, indulging you in all your little fantasies, but he too had some he wanted to live out. WC 1.8k POSTED september 25, 2020

—seven.

summary And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare. It’s a perfect plan. word count 2k posted october 30, 2020

—eight.

summary You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. But Jungkook is the same.   word count 1.9k posted december 28, 2020

—nine.

summary “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?” word count 2.2k posted january 8 2021

—ten.

summary See, there’s no one in this world who ignores his house rules more than you. Even worse, there’s no one on this planet who can make Jungkook ignore his own rules like you do. word count 1.4k posted february 14, 2021

—eleven.

summary You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small. word count 1.2k posted may 3, 2021

—twelve.

summary Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. word count 1.4k posted may 8th, 2021

—thirteen.

summary Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today.   word count 1k posted june 13, 2021

—fourteen.

summary Jungkook needs you to know that you can always count on him. word count 1.3k posted july 6, 2021

—fifteen.

summary It’s Jungkook’s teenage fantasy— being pushed down by a cheerleader. word count 3.1k posted august 9, 2021

— sixteen.

summary Your skin is warm and smells like sunshine. Jungkook can’t really explain it. (And also like the sunscreen you had doused him in earlier, but that isn’t as romantic.) word count 1.9K posted august 11, 2021

—seventeen.

summary She looks his way and suddenly Jungkook is nineteen again, in his dorm, listening to the first person he ever thought he loved telling him he’s too much to handle. word count 1.6k posted august 18, 2021

beautiful banners made for series!

cute and cozy gif by the lovely @ladyartemesia​ 

LASTLY: 

[1zashreena1]

Comfort Food

Taco/Female oc (plus size)

Please have this addled fever dream drabble

No porn, only soft. I can't breathe deeply enough to pant thru smut rn.

Gif credit @girlpornparadise

The knock wakes you up. You blink blearily around the little efficiency apartment while trying to remember which way is up. The tv is still on, it's just the little smart tv menu, so whatever voice you're hearing is definitely outside. 

It's also definitely male. 

Undeniably male. A soft rasp. Not so low as to be intimidating, but certainly intriguing.

Come to think of it, the grandma that you rented this teeny over-the-garage apartment from did say that she had a son who worked entirely too much. His own business.  Or something.

Your pajama pants aren't exactly clean, per se, but you're clothed, so it counts. He knocks again just as you get to the lock and slide the chained bolt back. The door swings open with its distinctive creeeeeeeeee-yip and…

Yeah. 

That is.

That is A MAN.

Holy jesus fuckin christ, Mary, and Abraham, too. What in the actual fuck.

First off, he's wearing flip flops. That should not be attractive. And plaid pajama pants. Also, categorically not sexy. A dark colored t shirt, the v-neck is displaying an impressive amount of ink in the form of neck tats that you have never before wanted to lick on a man. But above that is an absolutely gorgeous face with a chiseled jaw, full lips, salt and pepper stubble, high cheekbones, a long, straight nose, dark, bottomless eyes, and naturally perfect eyebrows. All set within tan skin and fetching laugh lines under a riot of black curls.

I am so fucked. 

--------------------

"Hey, uh, I'm, I'm Taco, Marguerite's son. She said she hasn't seen you in a few days, thought you might be sick, so I made some soup." That delicious rasp sounds about as confused as you are. He thrusts the tupperware container at you with a gentle sloshing (Good grief, that must be original '70s) and you stare rudely.

His hands are fucking huge.

Your brain immediately supplies thoughts of finally meeting a man whose hands are big enough to cup your boobs. No! The nails are really short, but it's obvious he does manual labor. Taco's forearms are rippling with muscle and your fever addled libido is fascinated. Beyond that are stupidly broad shoulders--

And we're right back to the neck tats. 

"Hi," you croak unpleasantly with a wince. Hell, even Taco winces. Gamely, you push onward, "Sorry, I sound like shit. Not the best way to meet someone."

Taco takes in your bedraggled hair and baggy pajamas with a not so suppressed smirk, although compassion shimmers in those chocolate eyes. Oh no, please not with the bottomless brown eyes. He rumbles soothingly, "Nah, you're fine. Everybody gets sick, right?"

The soup is still hot and it feels good enough that you clutch it to your chest. It also feels good to have someone care for you. As if he can read your mind, Taco asks, "You alone out here? Mama said you moved here from way out east."

Coming from virtually anyone else this question would be highly suspect. Despite his hulking presence and intimidating ink, Taco feels oddly safe. Oh, he could definitely fuck somebody up, but it wouldn't be you. You're nodding before you realize it, "Yeah. I had to get away. Like, really far away."

Anything else is cut off by a coughing fit that doubles you over. Tears drip onto your tie dyed pants while you gasp for air. Taco takes the container back with his left hand while the right lands on your back. The lack of oxygen results in the floor magically elevating itself toward your face, until a strong arm wraps around your middle. 

"Hey, easy there. I got you." The reassurance is growled directly into your ear and how the hell can your nipples be so alert when you're, like, dying? Taco proceeds to pick you up and gently drop your limp form on the loveseat about five feet to the left. The old furniture sags when he sits, too, but the massive hand rubbing your back is a great distraction from worrying about if the flowered monstrosity might collapse. 

"Sorry," your voice sounds like you just survived a horror movie, two hours of screaming included. Taco is still rubbing your back and it feels really nice. He smells nice, too, like coffee and fabric softener. Are you snuggled into that mysteriously broad chest? Yep.

"While I certainly don't mind holding a beautiful woman," His chuckle vibrates beneath your palms (When did you start groping him? Why the fuck does he have such magnificent pecs?) Taco continues, "I don't wanna make you uncomfortable. I mean, we literally just met."

Oh shit, he's a gentleman, too?? You are so screwed.

"Uh, yeah, true. Sorry. And thank you. For the soup, and, you know, the whole picking me up." Looking up proves nearly fatal, those brown eyes are soft and warm. The laugh lines and sprinkling of silver at his temples only make him all the more handsome. You feel like he could be legitimately dangerous, but only in a fierce protector way.

"So, um. Look, I'm just downstairs, round the back if you need anything. More soup, tissues, another hug from a virtual stranger, whatevs." He shoots you a wink and then stands to go to the door. You can't help but laugh, he's not wrong.

"I might just take you up on that." Are you seriously flirting with a nasty head cold? But, those shoulders… 

His voice is soft as he steps outside and closes the door behind him, "Get some rest, chiquita."

---------- 

The soup is really fucking good.

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Heavy in Your Arms

Prologue

Summary/Author’s Note:  Back from the service and hell bent on drinking his way through Southern California, Tig Trager is a rambler. He's alone, he's lost, and he likes it that way. He stumbles into Charming, a quiet town with a large presence in the form of the motorcycle club. Here he finds more than he bargained for, and something else he never thought he would deserve.

I got a message about this story awhile back and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. This is the story Tig fans begged S*tter for and he never delivered. I have really been missing Tig lately so I edited this from its original form that I posted seven years ago. I originally posted this as an OC under the pen name thatlassiegotglassed - Which was my original AO3 back when I was foolishly ashamed of my fic. Now I don’t give a fuck. 

Pairing: Tig Trager x Reader Word Count: 1624 Rating/Warnings: Language, death, violence, blood, typical SOA stuff, eventual smut

[Masterlist] [One Shots/Drabbles]

--

"Yeah, I dumped an FXR on the I-5 and the poor bitch slid right in front of oncoming traffic...Found out she was pregnant. Really loved that one..."

June 21st, 1993

The roar of the big trucks and the swishing of the smaller cars blazing down the freeway filled his ears and would have been calming, but they were out of place. He had been asleep, safe in his own bed, the cars from the road had never been this loud. He shifted slightly and instead of cool sheets under his hand, he felt the grit of the blacktop and the wet clumps of side-road sand, rough against his skin. He did what he did every morning and slid his hand down, looking for you. You would hum contently as he wrapped his big hand around your hip and pulled you back against him so he could smell your hair, nose you awake--but he wasn’t in bed. 

He had had a dream, a wonderful dream, that he had been riding. His hands had gripped the handles as the sun played hide and seek with the oncoming rain clouds. The crisp smell of the spring air had tickled his nose and filled his lungs as trees and the tall grasses of the fields outside the city whipped passed him. You were a comforting weight at his back, and every time you squeezed your arms around his middle it brought a smile to his face. 

The weight on his head let him know he was still wearing his helmet. With slow movements, he reached up and unclipped it, shoving it off and letting it bounce against the road.

Everything hurt. Fuck. He coughed, the movement pressing his cheek back to the cool blacktop, the air from his mouth blew dust particles up and made him shut his eyes. 

Except this was no dream. And you weren’t next to him.

Shit.

He had been riding and it started to rain, and the semi cut him off and--

“Doll?” he said, his voice feeling like razor blades down his throat. He repeated but with your real name, hoping it would get your attention more than any of his terms of endearment. 

When you didn't answer, he knew something was wrong. A silence had fallen around him, all he could hear was the ringing in his ears, as he saw your body laying twenty feet from him. Your helmet had fallen off, hair spilled to the side, blood flecked your temples and down your cheeks.

He started crawling, using his forearms to drag himself closer to you as other cars came to a halt and people started yelling. If he got to you, if he reached you--everything would be okay. You would be okay.

You had to be. 

--

January 1st, 1991. Somewhere in Southern California

He had met you on a Friday. A pretty calm day, where the world was relaxed in a way that he was not. How could he be? Alexander 'Tig' Trager was, how did they say, 'fresh off the boat', back from his service, he had made it. But, he wasn't concerned with doing it ever again.

The whiskey burned his throat. It was cheap but it was plentiful and he had no plans on stopping. He would take that pathetic government check and he would put it in the pocket of the first shitty dive bar he found.

“Hey, doll!” he said, raising his empty glass at a leggy blonde standing by the bar and shaking it slightly.

She gave him a scowl, turned her nose up and quickly walked back over to a different table to sit down with her small group of friends. Apparently, she didn't work here. Shit. He almost felt like an ass. Almost. The feeling quickly went away and he contemplated getting up for a refill.

“Hey, if you're not using it, then get off.” A gruff voice said from behind him.

Tig looked over his sun glasses at a large man. The man was obviously referring to the fact that he was sitting on the pool table. With a neck that seemed to thick for his face, and large, ape-like arms that dangled worthlessly at his sides, Tig knew if it came to blows, this asshole was toast. He hadn't had a good fight in awhile and just one look told him that this could be the itch he needed to scratch.

He put a cigarette between his lips and took his time lighting it. With a lazy hand, he pushed his glasses into his short, black hair. “But I am using it, man.”

“Move.”

“Nah--”

“Listen, pretty boy--”

“Pretty boy?” Tig said. His blue eyes flashed and he smiled. The second was one of his true talents, he could twist his lips and flash his teeth, in a way that made men run for the hills and made women fall out of their skirts...or so he had been told. “I've been called lots of things, brother. But that?”

“Just move your ass, okay?” the ape-man said as he jerked a thumb back towards the bar.

Tig didn't like being told what to do. It was one of his weaknesses according to his higher-ups in uniform. They had tried to break him, get him to bend and take one in the ass for Uncle Sam, but he refused. He wasn't about to do it for some low life in some shitty, middle-of-no-where bar.

He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke over his shoulder. His pulse evened out, his breathing stayed calm, his subconscious entered that special place right before he spilled someone's blood on the pavement.

“Alright, one,” the guy started to count. 

“Oh, you’re counting, now?”

“Two.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Two and a half.”

“Three,” Tig finished for him and pressed the lit end of his smoke into the man's forehead. He may have looked like an ape, but the bastard squealed like a pig. He brought his elbow down in the middle of the man's back as he doubled over and clutched his face. Tig shoved him to the side as one of his friends came at him at a run.

“Fucker!” the second man yelled and managed to land a solid right hook to Tig's cheek.

The prick was wearing rings and Tig knew there would be blood without even looking. As he fell back against the pool table, it screeched across the hardwood floor and a few patrons jumped out of the way. His hand landed in a puddle of beer as he knocked a glass over on the felt and his brief moment of mourning was cut short by another blow to his face. That did it.

With a growl, he headbutted the other man. Skull connected with skull and he gripped his shirt, jerking him towards him before he could fall and sunk his teeth into the man's ear. Tig dug his hands into his hair and shoulder, kept his neck at a ninety degree angle and didn't stop till he felt the skin split between his teeth.

“Fucking psycho!” the man stumbled back and the ape man was back on his feet, yelling, arms stretched out and headed for Tig's neck.

Tig met him head on, bringing a firm right hook into his gut and bringing his knee up to collide with his face as the man doubled over in pain. He reached back and grabbed one of the pool balls, twisting around until it connected with the ape-man's temple. The sound was sickening and he dropped like a brick.

Tig raised up and could feel the first drop of blood slide down his cheek. He reached for his beer and pulled up an empty bottle. Dammit. What a waste. He flung it lazily over his shoulder and grit his teeth when it smashed against the wall.

“You owe me a beer,” he said, giving the man on the ground a kick. He didn't move. The fucker was out cold. He looked at the other man, still holding his bleeding ear and looking at Tig like he was about to start foaming at the mouth. “You gonna pay for it?”

The man just stood there, mouth open like a fish. Tig stooped and dug around in ape-man's pocket until he found his wallet and snatched a twenty-dollar bill from the main compartment. It'd have to do.

He heard the distinct sound of a shotgun being cocked and he looked up just as the bartender and apparent owner of the place was pointing the barrel at his chest.

“Get out, Mister,” he said, firmly. “I'll call the cops.”

“They started it,” Tig said, stuffing the money in his back pocket.

“Well, I'll finish it,” the owner answered, jerking the end of the gun towards the door. “Get out.”

“Gladly,” Tig said, grabbing his leather jacket off the end of the pool table. “This place is a fuckin' dump, anyway, man.”

The man with the ear, or well, lack thereof now, gave him a wide birth as he pushed through the double doors and onto the dark street. He pulled his packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket, only to flip the top open and find it empty.

“God dammit,” he cursed, tossing the box across the lot. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. It looked like he'd have to make a stop on the way home.

He threw his leg over his motorcycle and turned on the headlight. A deep glow lit up a small section of the dark parking lot as he kicked it to life and left the pathetic excuse for a pub in the dust.

--

Tell me if you wanna be tagged. I didn’t tag my Perm Tag List because I know you guys are all here for my Pedro Pascal character Fics so---I was not sure if anyone would wanna be tagged in Sons stuff.

[buckmecaptain]

Distraction on Halloween

Bucky Barnes is stuck at a Tony Stark Halloween party, annoyed and bored.  What he needs is a little distraction.

Bucky Barnes X OC, Steve Rogers

Mentions of Sam Wilson, Maria Hill, Tony Stark, Sharon Carter

Picture is not mine.  Neither are the MCU characters. 

This was supposed to be a drabble, turned into a one-shot.  Kinda.  I wrote this in an hour, so I’m sure it’s full of mistakes.

WARNINGS:  Blood, Unprotected Sex (Wrap it before you tap it!), Supernatural beings, Alcohol consumption, Naughty words, Smut,  Bucky’s huge dong 

Another holiday, another Stark Party. Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes, annoyed at the mostly-drunk costumed revelers who were networking and jockeying for the best selfie positions.  Leaning an elbow on the bar, he nursed his whiskey and watched the various Avengers scattered around the room.  

He couldn't help but chuckle at Steve and Sam, who were dressed as Han Solo and Lando Calrissian, respectively, and Sharon Carter and Maria Hill, who were both dressed as Princess Leia and pretending - maybe - to swoon over them.  His thoughts were interrupted by a voice coming from a couple of spots away.

“Ginger ale, please.  Plenty of ice.”

A little shiver ran up his spine, like cold fingertips spider-walking on his back.  He side-eyed the speaker, who was not looking in his direction.  She was tall, stacked, in a floor-length long-sleeved black dress that showed astonishing cleavage.  Long night-black hair and pale skin, blood-red lips, and incredible dark lashes almost completed an enticing picture.  He desperately wanted to see her eyes.

Oh, why the hell not?  It's a party, it's Halloween...  He turned his head toward her only slightly. "Designated driver?"  he asked.

The barest hint of a smile pulled at the corner of her lips and she toyed with the straw in her drink. “Something like that.”  She didn't look at him.  “You're not mingling.”

“Not really my thing.”

She sipped her ginger ale.  “Oh?  I would have thought otherwise.  There's an angel and a French maid at your seven o'clock who are absolutely ready to, um, mingle with you, Luke Skywalker.”  This time she smirked, but still didn't look over at him.

He'd been well aware of the inebriated giggling twosome and had been ignoring them for at least twenty minutes.  Their voices were grating on his nerves.  “Also not my thing.  Things, whatever,” he shrugged.

She hummed.  "Well, too bad.  That was a sure way to get to put your lightsaber to good use."  She turned away.  "See ya around."

He couldn't stop himself from turning to watch her go.  Eventually, he lost her in the crowd due to constant interruptions from party guests and was growing more frustrated by the minute.  Deciding fresh air was the cure for his malady, he ducked down the caterer's entrance and stepped out onto a balcony.

The late October air was crisp and bracing, and he pulled in a lung full.

“Did all those drunk fools take your breath away, Sergeant?”

Bucky whipped his head around to see his mystery girl perched on the balcony's handrail, the hip-high slit in her dress revealing her long shapely legs, crossed and swaying slowly in the night breeze.  He snorted.  “More like sucked all the air out of the room,” he leaned back against the rail and blatantly looked her up and down.  “What's your excuse, doll?”

She shrugged, not meeting his eyes, “So many people in one space.  Overwhelming.  This is better.”

He nodded.  “You're gonna get cold.”

“Maybe so,” she uncrossed her legs and stilled.  “Interested in coming over here to keep me warm?” This time she did look at him, and he was startled by how luminous her eyes were in the light of the full moon.  Oh yes, he was definitely interested.

Bucky sauntered over and leaned back on the rail beside her.  “Better now?”

She hummed an affirmative.  “Won't your friends miss you in there?”

“Nah, they know I'm not big on these shindigs,” he watched her carefully as he spoke, “I could go back to my quarters right now and they'd think nothing of it.”

“I see.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “'Course, it's kind of lonely up there.”

“Pity.  The night is so young and you look like you're just- just full of energy.”

“Honey, you have no idea.”

She leaned down and purred in his ear, “I'd like to get an idea.”

He shivered and turned his head, their lips meeting immediately.  At first, he was surprised to find hers to be as cold as the handrail on which she was perched, but when she opened her mouth to him and caressed his tongue with hers he found nothing but warmth.

The kiss quickly became heated, breathless moans filling the space, and he soon found himself standing between her legs with her fingers buried in his hair.  His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as she arched her back and wrapped her legs around him.

He pulled back, eyes darkened with desire, and pressed the tip of his erection  against her center. “Darlin', if you want to continue this we'd better go to my place,” his breath hitched as her lips found his throat, “or else we're gonna traumatize the catering staff.”

She nipped his neck and pulled back. He almost did a double-take at how wanton she looked; her eyes were dark and feline, parted lips bee-stung and still blood red, cheeks and chest flushed scarlet.  She was going to tear him apart and he was going to let her.

They'd barely made it to his bedroom when they came together again, hands, teeth, and mouths everywhere, grinding against each other in a frenzy.

“Too many clothes,” she complained, tugging on his costume tunic.

He stepped back far enough to tear off the outfit.  “You know who I am.  What's your name, sugar?”

“Elanor.  Call me 'Elle',” she replied simply as she tossed her heels aside and opened the clasp at the waist of her dress, letting it slip from her body and fall to the floor.

Bucky growled low in his throat when he saw her standing before him in nothing but a tiny pair of silky scarlet panties.  He stalked forward, predatory and beautiful in the low light, catching her as she jumped into his arms and wrapped around him.  They made their way to the bed and sank onto his slate gray comforter.  

He was everywhere at once, grinding his erection into her clothed center while nuzzling and massaging her full breasts as she moaned and writhed beneath him.  He suckled and flicked his tongue at her nipples, tasting, always tasting.  She squeezed her legs around him tightly and flexed, lifting them both off of the bed.

“Damn, doll, you're strong,” he chuckled and moved to cover her neck and shoulder with kisses.

She shoved her fingers into his hair and pulled his head up.  “Need you inside me.  Now.”

“Yes ma'am,” he purred, standing and shoving his boxers down and off.

Elle's eyes went wide at the sight of his engorged cock.  “You're very blessed, Sergeant.  Is all that for me?” she asked playfully as she raised her hips and slowly slid her panties over her bottom and halfway down her thighs.  She stopped there, toying with the delicate fabric.

Bucky's mouth watered and his cock twitched.  “Gonna tease me, sweetheart?  Might wanna be careful,” he warned, one corner of his mouth turning up as he took in her pinup-girl pose.

“Why, what are you gonna do, spank me?  It's not teasing if I fully intend to follow through.”  She shimmied out of the underwear and tossed them aside while he stood there transfixed by the gorgeous woman laid bare before him.

He made no move to approach.

“Now who's being a tease?” she pouted, knees parting.  She snaked a hand down to touch herself and sighed dramatically.  “Making me wait when I’ve already told you I want you.”

He lunged forward, landing between her legs and batting her hand away.  "Oh no, you don't.  That's my job," he rasped, replacing her hand with his and stroking her arousal-drenched folds.

Elle whimpered and moaned, grinding herself against his hand as she dug her nails into his biceps. “Sergeant, I need-”

“Patience, doll.”

She pulled his head down to her chest, arching into him when his lips and teeth claimed a nipple.  “Fuck yes.  Harder,” she demanded.

He increased the suction on her nipple and thrust two fingers deep into her entrance, his thumb circling her clit.  “Don't hold back.  Let me hear you,” he urged, pumping his fingers slowly but firmly in and out of her.

She clutched at the comforter as pleasure coursed through her, head thrown back, gasping, hips gyrating in time with his hand, maneuvering so his thumb made better contact.  Her hands flew to his face and pulled his mouth to hers.  “I want to ride you,” she declared against his lips, her tongue slipping into and out of his mouth, flicking, fucking.  "I want you to watch me take your cock."  She grasped his wrist, pulling his hand from her entrance and brought it toward his mouth.  

He automatically opened and sucked his fingers clean of her juices, moaning in appreciation.  “Taste so fuckin' good, doll.  Like Heaven.”

She laughed darkly and claimed his mouth with a clash of teeth and lip-bruising force.

Somehow in the middle of that kiss, Bucky ended up on his back with Elle straddling him.  She rocked her hips, rubbing her silky-slick center along his length, making him gasp and press harder against her.

“Doll, if you- you don't stop that it's gonna be over way too soon,” he choked out between moans.

“But it feels so good,” she reasoned, then pushed up onto her knees and grasped his cock. “Eyes on me, Sergeant,” she commanded, looking into his eyes.  Hers were almost completely black as she stroked the tip of him along her center, fully coating him in her arousal.

She needn't have asked; he couldn't look away.  His hands latched onto her hips as she eased down onto his length, moving achingly slowly inch by inch.  The feel of her hot, wet heat wrapping around him as he watched her take him in was almost too much and he had to bite his lip hard to keep himself from coming right then and there.

Once he was fully inside her, she moved her hips in small circles, her body sensually undulating above him, hypnotic and serpentine.  “Sergeant.. your cock feels so good.  So big.  Filling me up,  hit all- all the right spots,” her voice was wrecked, needy and raspy with her heavy breathing.  She trailed her hands over the planes of his stomach, scraping her nails lightly over his heated skin, as he shivered and bucked his hips.

She leaned forward, those perfect full breasts swaying tantalizingly close to his chest.  He couldn't stop himself from leaning up to capture a nipple in his teeth, teasing the taut peaks with the tip of his tongue.  He thrust up into her faster as she keened with pleasure.

Flexing her powerful thighs, she set her rhythm to match his power and speed, huffing out a breath each time his pelvis met hers.  Leaning down again as far as she could she pulled his head to hers, their lips meeting and parting, tongues sliding together wet and hot.  She moaned into his mouth, “So close.  Harder.”

He obliged, fingers digging into the soft curves of her ass, hips ratcheting up into hers, his breathing ragged.  His movements were growing uncoordinated – he was close as well -  and brought his hand over to rub her clit with his flesh thumb, bringing her over the edge.

When the orgasm hit, Elle raked her nails down his chest then arched her back, inner walls clamping down on his thrusting cock.  The angle and sensation sent shockwaves buzzing through his body.

Bucky thought he'd never seen a more beautiful, desirable woman, and he was about to tell her as much when her walls clenched him again and he came.  His eyes slammed shut as his senses overloaded and he missed seeing the dark, leathery wings that unfurled from his lover's back.

As her wings flexed she leaned down and kissed him hungrily, trailing open-mouthed kisses over his jaw to his neck, tongue tracing the pulse point, and sank her teeth into his skin. She licked the wound, immediately dulling the sting, and sucked.

He didn't care that she was marking him.  Caught up in the after-effects of the most intense orgasm he'd ever had, he didn't find it strange that he was seeing stars, brilliant colors, and feeling a strong pulling sensation from where her mouth was connected to his neck.

He was so lost in the resulting euphoria of this otherworldly climax he only partially came back to himself when Elle pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed, delicately wiping off the blood running from the corners of her mouth with her fingers.  She then licked them clean.

“I was right, you know.  Blessed.  You taste so good, like a fine brandy and cinnamon,” she complimented, smiling smugly.

Bucky was woozy as if he'd had a bit too much of Thor's infamous Asgardian liquor.  His head felt heavy, his tongue thick, mouth dry.  "Wow, doll, that was a helluva ride."  He flopped back onto his bed with a goofy grin on his face.

“Thank you, Sergeant.  I had a damn good time.  It should hold me over for a while.”  She winked at him as she clasped her dress and slipped on her heels.  “See you around.”  She stepped out onto his balcony and disappeared into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The super-soldier woke with a brutal headache the next morning.  His head was pounding and he was cold.

What the fuck?   His balcony door was open.  What the hell did he drink last night?  Had he been drugged?

He sat up and the pounding in his head intensified.

Wait.  That pounding was coming from the door.

He clutched his head and hollered, “What the hell do you want?”

The noise stopped and his door opened.

“Pal?  You okay?  It's eleven o'clock.  You missed breakfast.”

“Yeah, Steve, just one hell of a hangover.   Was Thor at the party last night?”

Steve tilted his head to the side, hands on his hips.  “Thor?  No, he's still off-world.”

Hissing out a long breath, Bucky lay back down.  "Fuckin' killer headache.  The bartender didn't have any of that Asgardian alcohol, did he?"

Concerned, his friend suggested they go to Medical and get him checked out, and Bucky agreed.

“I'll get you some clothes, Buck. Sit still for a minute,” Steve offered, handing him a water bottle.

Bucky took it gratefully and drained the entire contents.  “So damn thirsty.”

“Well, dehydration is the first sign of too much alcohol.  Maybe it's alcohol poisoning.  Maybe you just lost track of how much you had to drink?  Guess I should save the assumptions,” Steve rambled, suddenly standing stock-still. 

 “Hey, uh, Buck?  Did you have company last night?”

“Shit.  I don't remember.   If I did, she's not here now.”

Steve turned to him with a familiar pair of red silk panties hanging off of one finger.  “I'd say this is proof that something went on here last night,” he smirked.

“Wow, you'd think I'd for sure remember something like that.”  He tilted his head and squinted at the feminine garment.

Steve paled.  "Buck, I- I think we'd better, uh, get you to the medbay right now.  C'mon."  He stared at the side of his friend's neck and grabbed his arm, hauling Bucky to his feet.

“What the hell, man?”

Steve dragged him over to the dresser mirror and pointed.  There were two holes, spaced slightly apart and perfectly round, perforating his neck over the jugular vein.

The super-soldiers stared at each other in the mirror, both wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

"Holy shit," they said in unison and turned to the open balcony door.

[emily-strange]

Sparks Fly

So anyone that’s interested in my writing knows that I’ve currently got two RDR2 fics on the go. Those will still be continued! 

But for the moment I have this shortish Billy Butcher x original female character story that I just have to get out of my head.

I’m not convinced it’ll be any good haha but I’m gonna give it a good go. I’ll be playing around with the timeline a bit and I’m undecided whether I’ll take it to the end of Season 1 or not....I have nothing against Becca but this is a “romance” story for Billy and my OC. Either way though Becca will *never* be mentioned in a negative way. I feel for that woman.

Anyway if you’re still interested! 😂 Here’s Chapter 1!

Please let me know what you think xx

PS. Thank you so much @billybutchersbabe​ for helping me brainstorm and work out the mess in my brain! 😂🙏🏻

Chapter 1

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC

Warnings: Swearing, Violence 

...........................................................

Breathe, Emmy thought, just breathe.

In, out. In, out.

Put one foot in front of the other.

Left, right. Left, right.

She’d never seen so many people. Only on TV. She didn’t even know where she was walking, only that she hoped when she finally collapsed it’d be far enough away.

Emmy did the math in her head, she had about $15 left. Would that pay for somewhere to sleep? Shelters, those are a thing in big cities right? She’d seen that on TV as well….

As she dodges every passer-by, she keeps her head down and hood up. She’s not sure if New York would even get news reports from her insignificant little town but she doesn’t want to risk being recognised. Every glance or look her way threatens to send Emmy into a panic as she fiddles with the torn-up matchbook in her hoodie pocket. Her very old backpack is light on her shoulders as it barely contains anything.

After walking for what feels like days, Emmy finally stopped and took in her surroundings. Big, blinding buildings and dirty sidewalks.  

But, in the distance, smoke.

Before it could even register, Emmy’s feet took her towards the gathering of people one block over who were all congregated to watch a street vendors cart go up in flames. People were throwing buckets of water onto the blaze which was very quickly moving to engulf neighbouring cars.

People are panicking. A man gets too close and the arm of his jacket catches fire. As everyone yells and shouts, Emmy moves slowly through the crowd. Getting closer and closer to the heat. Heat which doesn’t bother her at all.

This is probably what a sauna feels like, she thinks to herself.

Thankfully, in all the panic, no one notices when she removes her hands from her pockets and reaches towards the flames.

Well she thinks no one notices….

As soon as the flames begin to die, Emmy’s feet are lifted from the ground. Before she has time to shout, she’s thrown onto a hard alley floor which smells horrendously like urine.

She tries to scramble to her feet, her backpack hanging low on her arms but she goes flying once again as a fist….or possibly a boot…..collides with her stomach. Emmy gasps for breath on the floor while holding her stomach. She doesn’t dare look up but can see three pairs of legs in front of her.

“What’ve we got ‘ere then lads?” one of the men says while he rips the hood down off of Emmy’s head. Taking a chunk of hair with it. Emmy knows it should have hurt more than it does but the pain in her stomach and the blood running down her face from the fall, are the only things she can properly register.

“Why it’sa little girl! Lookie here.” The same man says and Emmy dares a glimpse up at him and the others. Behind the man who’s currently sneering at her stands a younger one who seems closer to her age. The third guy stands off to the side with his arms crossed.

When the first man goes to land another blow, the younger jumps in quickly.

“Hey, hey! We don’t know if she did anything…..I didn’t see. Did you see? MM did you!?” he glances over to who she can only assume is “MM” who simply answers, “Naw I didn’t see nothin’. Butcher you sure?”

Emmy recoils as “Butcher” lunges forward and picks her off of the floor by fistfuls of hoodie. He smacks her back into the wall, freeing the backpack from her limp arms and shaking the almost-used matchbook from her pocket. When Butcher looks down at his feet and sees the matchbook he gives the others a toothy smirk and throws Emmy back to the ground.

“Look man, I didn’t see her start no fire. But if you’re gonna do somethin, do it now, we gotta go.” MM says.

“Hey! S’not everyday we find ourselves a wannabe Lamplighter. She may know somethin.” Butcher says as he throws Emmy’s backpack towards them, “Hughie have a gander in there.”

MM grumbles under his breath and looks out of the alley to see if anyone’s taking any notice of them. However the fire, which still sizzles, is keeping attention away from them and Emmy. As Butcher picks her back up, Emmy feels vomit rising up into her mouth and doesn’t even try to avoiding hitting him in the chest with it. Butcher looks at his chest for a second before muttering a “are you fuckin kidding me?” and slamming her round again to be held on the wall.

“There’s nothing but, but clothes in here. And like, ten bucks. Butcher I think she’s homeless.” Hughie says somewhat timidly, looking like he could bolt at any moment.

Butcher looks at Emmy and takes in her appearance. She’s clearly mid 20’s, 25+ if he had to guess and she’s pale. Extremely pale. Making the blood and bruises forming on her face that much more distinctive. He tips her lolling head back and makes note of older cuts and bruises around her eyes. Those he did not do. His split second of curiosity is fleeting before he’s back to business.

“Now why don’t you tell us what ya have against pretzels? Or is it the corndogs you dislike so much?” Butcher mocks as the others hover behind him.

Emmy opens her mouth to speak but finds it difficult, causing Butcher to scoff, “Come on now luv, I know ya small but even you should be able ta take a beating.”

She puts her hands on the arms of his jacket to try and feel a bit more stable and pushes the words out past the pain.

“I….can’t….can’t start…..fires…..” she heaves and begins to cough. She wheezes as she takes in another breath, “I…was...putting it out.”

Emmy see’s the very minor tell of confusion on Billy’s face and that’s only because she’s so close to it right now. His eyelashes are so long….

“Hey, look at this.” Hughie says from behind Butcher and brings his phone in front Emmy’s face. Butcher watches a shaky video of the fire blazing with some teenage boys, behind the camera, laughing and cheering, “It’s all over twitter. Apparently cops already have the, the guys who started it. Just some dumb kids.”

Hughie steps back with MM and Butcher sighs before dropping Emmy to the ground, “Alright. Well. Guess it’s ya lucky day.”

“You can’t just leave her like this!” Hughie implores, causing MM to groan.

“What you wanna play nurse maid?” Butcher bites back and makes a move to leave the alley.

“No but we need to at least get her to the hospital!” Hughie replies and moves to crouch in front of Emmy who gasps, “No!”.

Butcher gestures to Emmy and holds his arms out wide in a winning stance.

“See! Supe don’t wanna be coddled so,” he makes a popping sound with his mouth and gestures out of the alley with his thumb “let’s get back ta business.”

Hughie ignores Butcher and kneels in front of Emmy who, while holding her stomach with one arm, reaches out for the matchbook with the other. She gets herself onto her knees with the help of Hughie.

“Look, we can get you some help.” MM says, clearly ignoring Butcher’s order as well, causing the man to groan a string of low “fucks”.

Doubled over, Emmy fiddles with the matchbook in her hands. Maybe this is where it’s supposed to end, she thinks. Maybe she was never really meant to escape…..but she’ll be damned if she’s made to go back.

“They’ll find me….” She says loud enough for the three men to hear, still struggling through her injuries, “if you take me to a hospital….they’ll find me…..”

Butcher, who’d been tapping his foot in aggravation, becomes intrigued enough to stop and turn back to the others.

“And who’re ‘they’?” he asks.

Emmy stops fidgeting and looks up at Butcher at the end of the alley. Her defeated face crumples into tears and she wipes the wet, bloodied mess onto the back of her sleeve.

She shakes her head and turns to him saying quietly, “Just finish what you started.”

“’scuse me?” Butcher asks without betraying a hint of his actual thoughts or feelings. He does however glance his eyes down to the match Emmy is holding near the broken book, “Hughie, get up” Butcher says evenly without moving his position at all. Hughie relents and moves over to stand with MM who watches the exchange between Butcher and the young woman silently.

“Please….I….just finish it. You want to. I know you do….you hate me….I don’t know why, but you do” Emmy strikes the match against the book causing a small flame. She cusps her hand over the flame, taking it from the match into the palm of her hand.

Butcher, unfazed by her ability slowly stalks his way over to where she’s huddled on the floor.

“Whatca doin there Sparky?” Butcher asks while Hughie and MM back off.

Emmy shakes her head as more tears fall, causing the fire to splutter and shrink in size. She returns her free hand to her stomach and tries to square her shoulders. Butcher recognises her attempt to try and seem resolute but also has to laugh. She obviously doesn’t know Billy Butcher.

The flame in her hand grows again to the size of a baseball, cracking and sending splinters of fire off in different directions. Almost like a fiery electric current.

“Just…end it…I….I don’t want to hurt you. But I will” Emmy wheezes and Butcher continues his slow approach, ignoring the sound of his name from the other two men.

“You’ll hurt me…if I don’t kill ya?” Butcher asks and Emmy sniffs and nods. Butcher looks to the others, nods and shrugs like it’s the most reasonable request in the world.

The last thing Emmy see’s is a large black boot in front of her face before everything goes dark.

[alloftheimagines]

billy hargrove | heaven-sent | part six

masterlist | series | part five

words: 2k+

warnings: mentions of death, abuse, fighting, swearing, drinking, aggression, non-consensual kiss

disclaimer: i in no way support the actions of billy. i just find his character interesting and want to explore it more with my oc. takes place from season 2. OC is hopper’s daughter.

summary:  she’s an angel. he may as well be the devil. one would not exist without the other.

The gentle hum of the engine is peaceful as the Camaro cruises through Hawkins. Billy doesn’t try to cover it with his music the way he usually would. After the night he’s had, he’s grateful for the quiet. He’s unable to forget the way his father’s fist collided with his face earlier, his cheek still throbbing painfully. His jaw aches, too, and he realises he’s been clenching it for hours. He relaxes it now as best he can, his attention drawn away from it entirely when they pass a bunch of wilted flowers placed randomly on the side of the road. There are unlit candles, too, the wax melted into the concrete.

“Someone die there or somethin’?” he asks without thinking.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Frances flinch and regrets asking. “Yeah. Her name was Barb.”

“Did you know her?” He glances at her, but she isn’t looking at him, her head turned away as she gazes out of the window.

“She was my best friend.”

Jesus. I’m—” He sucks in a breath, his grip tightening on the steering wheel sub-consciously. Sorry, he wants to say, but somehow the word doesn’t do it justice. “What happened to her?”

“She was killed.” She tucks a strand of brown hair behind her ear, her eyes hardening as she turns them back on the road ahead. She still won’t look at him.

“Shit,” he whispers. “Did they catch ‘em?”

“No.” She shakes her head, her voice cracking. Her chest is heaving as though she’s suppressing a sob or is struggling to breathe. He shuffles in his seat, unsure what to do or say. He doesn’t need to force anything out: she continues before the right words come. “I should have been there that night. She begged and begged for me to come to this stupid party with her at Steve Harrington’s house. Nancy was forcing her. She wasn’t really part of that crowd and she didn’t wanna be alone, always said it was easier for her when I was there. She died alone.”

“It’s not your fault,” Billy replies softly. It’s easier for him to be soft in the dark; easier to allow himself to sound as though he gives a damn. “You couldn’t have known.”

“But I did,” she hits back, looking at him now. Her eyes are shiny with tears, her hands clinging to her camera desperately. “I had this awful feeling in my chest, like I couldn’t breathe, all fucking night—only I thought it was because Jonathan’s brother was missing. I was so busy looking for him with my dad that I wasn’t there for Barb. Now she’s gone. And I knew.”

Her face is illuminated in the pale headlights passing on the other side of the road, and for a moment her eyes seem to flicker, blaze, change. Her irises, once a green that reminded Billy of the Californian sea on a rare, grey day, are now golden. He does a double take, almost swerving the car in the process, but when he looks again they look as they always did: murky ocean eyes half-hiding behind dark lashes and unruly bangs.

“Shit,” he curses, forcing his eyes back on the road. “Your eyes.”

She frowns, paling and pulling down the overhead mirror with enough force that Billy is worried she might break his damn car. “What?”

“Nothin’, I—” he stutters, blinking and looking at her again. Had he imagined it? Was it the light off the other car? “I thought you had something in your eye. It was nothin’.”

He pulls into the clearing where the trailer stands, lonely and grey against the black lake. The tyres roll against the gravel unevenly, the engine cutting out and replaced with silence.

“Your dad home?” he asks, just as he had the previous night. The trailer’s windows are dark, the house empty and solitary where it stands. He can’t imagine calling this place a home, even with his own circumstances.

“No,” she replies, unfastening her seat-belt slowly. “You wanna come in for a while? I could use that drink, now.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips as he takes the keys out of the ignition and grabs the bottle of whisky from beside him. “Sure. Why not?”

* * *

The trailer isn’t as small as it looks from the outside. It’s cosy, earthy, and he can imagine Frances pottering about on it on a Saturday, drinking coffee with the patterned curtains closed to block out the low winter sun. Still, he can’t imagine sleeping in this thing alone. They’re basically in the middle of nowhere. He can’t even smell cow shit out here, and the lake is eerily still even in the wind.

“Your dad work a lot?” He places the whiskey on the kitchen counter and she pulls out two glasses from the oak cupboards, standing on her tip-toes and arching her back to reach.

“Yeah. I’m used to it now.”

“You don’t get scared out here alone?” he teases, leaning against the counter.

She pours the whiskey carefully and slides his tumbler towards him, taking a sip of her own. If the burn fazes her, she doesn’t show it. “I’m always scared. Doesn’t make a difference if I’m out here or in the middle of town.”

“Because of Barb?”

She shrugs. Her cheeks are flushed from the short walk between the car and the trailer, making the small cut on her cheek appear redder than it did before. “Because of a lot of things. You need ice for that bruise?”

He had forgotten about it for the first time tonight. He touches it now as if to remind himself, trying to hide his wince as he realises how tender it is. “I’m good,” he says despite himself.

She rolls her eyes, kneeling down to rifle through the freezer. When she comes up, she’s holding frozen peas. She chucks them at him, and he catches reluctantly, pressing them gently to his face. “Thanks.”

“So, where did you move from?” she questions, leading him to the couch and sitting down, whiskey in hand. He follows, sitting beside her, perhaps a little closer than he had meant to. He doesn’t make an effort to budge down.

“California.”

“Yeah?” Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “That’s a little different than Hawkins. What was it like?”

“It was …,” he sighs, unable to find the right words. Nobody had asked him that yet, really. Nobody in Hawkins cared about Billy’s old life. Sometimes, it no longer feels as though it exists at all. “It was home. I basically lived on the beach. Had bonfires most nights, spent my days out in the sun. There was always something happening, too. Carnivals, fairs, gigs. You’d love it. You'd get some amazing photographs.”

“Yeah,” she smiles, hanging on his every word. He can’t help but look at her again, at her eyes that he’d been sure had changed. They were still green, still the closest he could get to his favourite place. “I bet. You must miss it like crazy.”

“More than anything,” he admits, sipping his drink to distract himself from the sudden attention. “What about you, you lived here your whole life?”

“Actually, I lived in New York for a while when I was a kid. My mom still lives there with her new husband.”

“Did you like it?”

She shakes her head, leaning back into the couch as her eyes glaze over for a moment, remembering. “I did. Now, it just reminds me of things I’d rather forget.”

“Like?”

“I think I’ve told you enough of my little sob story tonight,” she laughs, but Billy can tell it isn’t genuine. He can’t help but wonder if they’re more alike than he thought, looking at the cut on her cheek again. Did the chief do that? He seems to walk around town in an eternally foul mood: it wouldn’t necessarily surprise him if he took it out on her.

He finds himself inching closer to her, so close that their foreheads are almost touching. “I like talking to you. You’re the only person in this shitty town I can stand to be around, even if you are all gloom and doom.”

“Gee, thanks.” Sarcasm drips from her words without conviction. He can hear her breath coming out quicker as he looks down at her soft, pink lips longingly. She doesn’t close the distance, so he takes it upon himself.

Their lips press together for only a moment before her hands are on his stomach, pushing him away. She stands up, crossing her arms over her chest as though she’s naked rather than fully clothed with layers of knitwear. Her face is bright red, her eyes blazing. “What the fuck, Billy?”

“What?” he replies cluelessly, raking his hand through his hair and pretending as though his cheeks aren’t heating up in embarrassment. He can’t remember the last time he was rejected.

“What?” Frances repeats in disbelief. “God, what was this? Were you just trying to get into my pants the entire fucking time? Driving me home, getting back my camera, listening to me when I talk about my dead friend and my cheating boyfriend because I’m a fucking idiot who thought that maybe you weren’t so bad, that maybe you actually gave a shit?”

He’s speechless, licking his dry lips as he tries to figure out what to say. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Why would I ever want that? I just ended a two-year relationship with my best fucking friend.”

“And I’m great at rebound sex,” he answers as though it’s obvious. He can feel anger beginning to bubble in him, not because he’s mad at her words, but because she’s yelling—and he still doesn’t know why. “Why else am I hear, Fran? You wanna talk about feelings all night while you braid my damn hair? Cuddle by the fuckin’ fire with a mug of hot cocoa, marshmallows on top? You’re not stupid. You know I’m not that guy.”

Tears are pricking her eyes again, and this time she doesn’t blink them back. He’s not sure she even knows she’s crying in her own, blind rage. “So all of this was just for sex? All of it?”

Billy softens at the sadness in her voice, his elbows digging painfully into his thighs as he puts his head in his hands and takes a breath. “No, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t plan all this just to screw you. I just … When you invited me in, I thought—”

“Thought you’d shoot your shot,” she finished bitterly. “Of course you did; of course opening my door to you automatically meant opening my legs, too. You’re a fucking asshole, Billy. I don’t know why I let you in. I don’t know why I let any of this happen. Just get out.”

“Fran—” he says desperately, standing up from the couch and walking around the coffee table to meet her.

“Get out, Billy!” Frances shouts. “Get the fuck out!”

She pushes him backwards with more force than he’d been expecting, sending him flying straight into the door. It falls open against his weight, and he falls with it, landing on the porch. His defeated, shocked body is illuminated by the white porch light.

Frances stands in the doorway, speechless. Clearly, she had been expecting this as much as he had.

“Jesus!” he yells when he’s able to find the words. It hurts him, being treated this way. He could take it from his father, his friends, the shitheads he beats up at school and parties, but he hadn’t been expecting her to touch him like that—and it’s clear she hadn’t meant to by the way she looks at him as though he’s broken, as though she’s broken him, though she can’t know what this means to him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re a crazy bitch, you know that?”

“Fuck you,” she whispers weakly as he pulls himself up, using the fence as support. “Leave me alone, Hargrove.”

“Gladly,” he responds, his upper lip curling in contempt. His hands are balled into fists as he marches away, barely sparing her a glance as he slams the door of the Camaro shut after sliding into the driver’s seat. His tyres struggle against the gravel, spitting out dust and dirt as he speeds away, watching her retreating figure standing in the threshold of the trailer in the rear-view mirror.

part seven

[knives-out20]

TiO - Bobby & The Buddies

Fandom: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)

Pairing: Bobby Brightside (OC) x Cliff Booth, StarBeep, DeepSpace,

Warnings: This is normal procedure now, Swearing, Faggotry, Gay shit idk, Homosexual tendencies, Another weird dark joke,

Notes: a ha ha...enjoy. Song used is TiO by Zayn. Dolly is an OC that belongs to my buddy, Dio.

Dedicated To: @mori-ohs​

Bobby practically put his lips against his mic, crooning into it. “I can taste it on your mouth, and I can’t leave it. You’re a freak like me- can’t you see? We can work this something out, and I’m believin’...You get off on me, it’s like cheating” he shrugged, pulling away to let Deep take control of the song he mainly wrote himself- Bobby helped with the sound of it, but the lyrics were all him.

“I, I, I, I just want to watch you when you take it off” Deep purred, eyes falling softly closed. His fingers strummed against his guitar as he saw fit, just like how he planned. “Take off all your makeup, baby, take it off-”

Bobby and Beep caught each other glanced over at Ace. “You know?” Bobby mouthed to him.

“You do too?” Beep mouthed back.

“Did I not yell ‘hypocrite’ the other day?”

“Take off all your clothes, and watch you take it off~”

“Fair” Beep mouthed, shrugging.

Bobby, Deep, and Beep sang “take if off, take it off, baby, just take it off” twice, Deep controlling the next verse.

“Push me up against the wall, don’t take it easy” Deep grabbed his mic stand, shaking his head. “You like it hard like me...it’s what you need” he scoffed, smirk just about noticeable.

“Nice song?” Peep asked, appearing by Ace.

“Let’s get naked and explore, our inner secrets. For what it is,”

Ace crossed his arms, looking down at him. “Surprising coming from you- doesn’t your brother singing like that make you uncomfortable?”

“It’s what it is.”

“I mean, duh” Peep playfully rolled his eyes. “But, you gotta suck it up. You’re in a band with family, can’t get in the way of the fact that you’re in a band, full stop.”

Ace nodded in agreement.

Peep looked up at him, wondering if he truly was unaware that the song’s main element was the fact that Deep wrote it about him.

Deep repeated the chorus, Damien taking on the next line.

AKA, “Take it off, take it off, baby just take it off.”

Bobby carried on with “take it off, take it off, just-”

“Take it off, take it off, baby just take it off- take it off, baby just take it off” Deep sang, a hint of genuine pleading in his voice. His eyes were still closed, who knows what was happening behind his eyelids?

“Ow!” Bobby exclaimed, the Buddies giggling all around him.

“He always do that?” Gene asked, appearing beside Peep.

Peep jumped, holding Ace’s arm as if he was gonna protect her.

Ace grinned.

“Uh- yea. Either to make us laugh, or if it’s part of a- of a suggestive song- like this one. It’s kinda his thing, y’know?”

Gene looked her up and down, nodding and walking off.

“God.” Peep sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, Ace.”

“No worries, Peep” Ace pat her head.

Deep straightened out his fingers, trailing them slowly up his microphone stand in a suggestive manner. “I just can’t wait, to see it all- I’m so turned on.”

“And it’s all mine” Bobby purred.

“I just can’t wait, to see it all- I’m so turned on” Deep riffed ‘on’, Peep, Bobby, and Beep catching Ace’s impressed expression from behind his excessive makeup. 

Deep delivered the final chorus, the other men of the Buddies taking on vocalizations, echoes, and backing vocals. He panted silently when he finished, hearing Frankie tap his drumstick together in applaud.

Ace joined in, with actual applaud. “Sick shit, Deep!” He called.

Deep chuckled, turning to look over his shoulder. “Ah, thanks” he nodded, the attention from the others slowly leaking off of him and onto other things. “Hey, Ace, wanna hear something?”

“You know it” Ace grinned, pointing at Deep with both pointer fingers. He walked towards Deep, towering over the man because of his platformed boots.

“I went to the store to buy some condoms. When I went to the checkout, the lady asked me, do I need a paper bag? I said ‘no, I’ll just turn out the lights.’“

Ace exploded in hyena-like laughter, some of the Buddies laughing along because they overheard. He doubled over, grabbing Deep’s shoulder to help him keep steady.

Deep looked at Ace’s hand on his shoulder, blushing lightly. Slowly, he put his hand over Ace’s to ‘keep it from slipping’, if he were to get asked why. 

Ace put his other hand on Deep’s other shoulder, pushing on them to help him stand back up. “Wow, man- wow,” he panted, dumbed down to a fit of giggles. “You ‘n’ your siblings really know your shit, huh? Joke-making and lyric-writing...what more could anyone want?”

Deep got his hopes up with that, eyes going slightly wide. “Wow, I mean- I dunno. Charisma? Looks? Good in the sack?”

Ace shrugged. “If you can make someone laugh, there’s a chance that’ll be all you need.”

Deep felt his hopes reach as high up as the heavens. “Y’think so?”

“I know so. Hey, you should tell that to your brother. He tryin’ so hard to get to Starchild? Crack a joke or two, funny is sexy.”

Deep nodded obediently, “yea, sure, I’ll tell ‘im.”

“Good boy” Ace purred, patting Deep’s head and walking away.

Deep watched, same as always. Blue eyes trailing from the broad shoulders of Ace’s silly spaceman outfit, to dangerously loitering around his narrow waist.

“Snap out of it” Maria scoffed, shoving Deep.

Deep rolled his eyes. He turned around, seeing Beep talking to Starchild a way’s away from the stage.

“How’s your lil’ crushy-dushy going?” Bobby giggled, chin on Deep’s shoulder.

“‘Crushy-dushy’?”

 Bobby platonically kissed Deep’s cheek. “Uh-huh, and ‘crushy-bushy’ for Beep. I need a name as stupid as the idea that you two fell for a couple of our employers. Why can’t you be more like your sister-”

“Like I haven’t heard that enough in my life-”

“Shut up,” Bobby snickered, dragging out the ‘u’ in ‘up’. “Anyways, Derek, why can’t Benji and you be more like her, and simply be scared shitless of Gene, leaving him for Dolly to take care of?”

Deep scoffed. “Rats, my bad for falling for people using the feelings I can’t fuckin’ control. Whatever shall I do?” He dramatically apologized.

Bobby kissed his teeth, playing with the tassels on his jacket. “Steal a pair of my gogo boots-”

“You have more than one?”

“You don’t?” Bobby jokingly shot back. “Steal a pair and be closer to Ace’s height. Simple.”

“Then what?”

“Well, start playin’ this new single and start feelin’ and touchin’ and kissin’ and-”

“Okay, okay, I don’t need to hear what a usual night between you and Cliff is like” Deep teased.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“No thank you.”

“I’d shove you but clearly, I’m not the one you want pushing you against walls, eh?”

“...Touche.”

“Push me up against the wall” Bobby crooned as he turned around, smiling as he watched Ace talk to Peter. “Ace’s my favourite, but don’t tell the others that I said that. You made a good choice. Now you just gotta catch it.”

“I know that.”

Bobby turned Deep to face him. “I believe in ya, Deep. Honestly. I believe in you ‘n’ Beep almost as much as I believe in Cliff ‘n’ me. Cliff ‘n’ me, we’re eternal. I believe in us more than anyone and anything in the universe. You understand, don’t cha?”

Deep nodded. “Yea, I do. Each time I see that ring he got for ya, I do.”

Bobby waved his left hand in front of Deep’s face, remembering their first conversation about it.

Bobby hopped into the the seat behind the passenger seat of Frankie’s car. ”Onward, ho!” He exclaimed, his buddies hollering along as they drove down the street. ”What’s on the plate today, prostitutes?”

Penelope, aka Peep, leaned back in the passenger seat. ”We’re hitting the roads today, doing whatever in between, and ending it off on some good ol’ cliff jumping. Kapeesh?”

Bobby nodded obediently. ”Vague, exciting. Very fresh.” He counted heads, “where’s Maria?”

Benji, aka Beep, sucked his teeth. ”On a date. Some guy named, uh, Jim? James? Heck if I know” he shrugged.

Derek, aka Deep, sat between Beep and Bobby. ”Speaking of dates, I heard someone finally tamed the wild and chaotic Bobby D. Brightside~” he teased, nudging Bobby.

“No, no, no. Someone finally tamed Cliff goddamn Booth, that’s the feat” Beep corrected. ”The dude’s a unit, and you’re telling me he popped a nice ‘n’ shiny ring for for a scrawny motherfucker from Baltimore?”

Bobby smiled sweetly, blushing at the mere thought of Cliff..

“Aw, rats- we lost Bobby. Hey! Earth to Bobby!” Deep called, nudging him.

“Eh?”

“You were gone for a second. Got a Cliff-induced smile.”

“That happens, y’know that. You got an Ace-induced grin yourself. Like how Beep’s got a Starchild-smile.”

“Well...You’re right, but Jesus, you didn’t have to say it.”

Bobby laughed. “I know y’both mean well, I do. Just...tread lightly, alright? Love in the world of rock ‘n’ roll can prove to be dangerous at times, no matter the people involved” he sucked his teeth. “And trust me, people can do some...weird shit, for love” Bobby winced. “I happen know from experience” he added, remembering the adrenaline rush he got from the night he strangled Billie Booth, in that fateful alleyway, on the fateful night that he got away with her murder.

And to this day, not a single person knows he killed her. No one. Not Cliff, Rick, the Buddies, KISS, MJ, Dolly, Soup, Emil, Floyd, Bruce, no one. And it’s gonna stay that way.

“Don’t- Don’t fall into that weird, scary pit. Okay? Same goes for Beep” Bobby asked, pointing over at Beep and waving at him.

Deep arched a brow, but decided not to ask any questions. 

Bobby hasn’t been very secretive about his past, so anything he hasn’t told the Buddies, Deep assumed it must be something too personal.

Deep understands that. He nodded. “Got it, Bobster.”

Bobby smiled, patting Deep’s cheek. “Atta boy, Deep.”

[staytheb]

You Live Here, Too?

Pairing: GOT7′s Mark x OC [Linna] Genre: slice of life, slight fluff, slight angst Word Count: 2,050 Summary: It’s been two years since Linna and Mark last saw one another after their breakup. They meet again when Linna tries to enter her apartment, but it’s really Mark’s in her slightly tipsy state.

Warning: semi-proofread. curse words. lol

hello! this piece is actually a re-work from my other side blog with NPC’s Yanjun titled Nice To Meet You. i re-did it for my own piece of mind and to re-do things from that side blog to fit this current blog. anyways, this is like a sequel to LA Confidential, but you don’t really have to read that one to get this one. also, to each their own on how they do their relationship, this was just fitting for me to end it on a better term than what i had previously... plus my sister has been wanting a part two and this one came through lol but yeah, i’m terrible with titles, too. okay happy reading and kthxbai, Admin Lia~

Linna staggered down the hallway of her apartment floor after stepping out of the elevator. She normally didn't get drunk unless she knew that one of her friends would take care of her, but tonight she needed a drink and had one too many. Her friends made sure she arrived into her complex safely and that she was coherent enough to make it the rest of the way up on her own. Feeling the slight headache coming on, Linna clumsily, but hurried down the long hallway until she reached her apartment's door. She pressed the four digit code, but it didn't work. Believing it to be her drunken state, Linna tried again, but the code failed.

"I know the code can't be wrong unless Serena changed it and forgot to tell me." Linna muttered in frustration.

Linna recently moved into the building with her sister after securing a place together a month ago. She just didn't get why she was having issues now as Linna dialed Serena's number and waited for her sister to pickup. Just as Linna heard Serena's voice, the sound cut off soon afterwards. Linna frowned while gazing at her phone and seeing that the battery ran out. She double checked and sighed in agitation that her phone had to die on her at this crucial time. Inhaling slowly and exhaling a moment later, Linna steadily stared at the nine-numbered key pad. She slowly, but surely pressed the right buttons. The pass-code failed once again.

"Seriously? What the fuck, man?"

Linna groaned angrily as she could feel hot tears build up. She bang against the door in hopes that Serena was home. Feeling a bit woozy, Linna leaned her body against the cool surface and rested her head sleepily onto the door. She hoped that her sister would open the door soon. A moment later the door opened and Linna fell in to the arms that didn't belong to Serena. It was her ex-boyfriend, Mark, she hadn't seen in nearly two years after their breakup due to his infidelity. Mark instinctively caught Linna in his arms as his eyes widened upon their unexpected situation. Linna hadn't taken notice of his presence and just stayed like that unaware of her situation.

"Are you okay?" Mark simply asked a second later wondering what he should do.

Unfortunately for Mark the innocent question opened a dam and Linna burst with all of her pent up tears and emotions exploding.

"No, I'm not okay!" She cried before ranting.

"Nothing's fucking okay. Life sucks. The owner of my job is a fuckin' dick and a cheapskate who gives two shit for his employees and just worries about financial aspects. My general manager is a two-face bitch who won't hesitate to throw someone under the bus to save her own ass, but yet she'll take all the credit for something she did not do. All of my colleagues can't do shit without being told to do something, especially the upper management who are all supposed to work with me and not against me."

Linna let out a heavy sigh before finishing out her rant.

"I hate being an assistant general manager that they still treat like a regular worker, but still expect so much things from me even though they micro-manage me. Like I know so much more than they do and still know how to keep things professional, but they see me as nothing more than some lower employee they can do whatever with. Ugh, all these motherfuckin' idiots think it's easy being in my position and that I don't do shit, but yet always depend on me to handle their fuck ups without actually thinking."

Linna comfortably leaned against Mark, but had still not recognized her current situation. Mark just let his ex-girlfriend rant and do her thing not really sure how to go about their current situation.

"Damn, do I hate stupid people." Linna complained while speaking in a tired tone. "I really wanna quit, but I need the job to make money. I wished they would realize that I'm important individual with feelings and have so much potential to offer. I just wished they realized that without me they wouldn't be where they are right now because they still can't fuckin' operate the system on their own without blowing up my phone left and right to answer obvious questions."

Linna positioned her face against Mark's chest and let the tears continued to run.

"Why can't they use their own brains to actually assess the situation or make sure of it themselves? Or to just look it up on their own without bugging me beforehand?"

Mark wrapped his arms around Linna's body and soothingly rubbed her back in comfort. Although they had broken up and that he was the one at fault, but to this day Mark still cared for Linna. Seeing his ex-girlfriend in her current state reminded him that her work place was still shitty and her co-workers were even more annoying than before their breakup. Mark wanted to comfort her with words, but nothing came to mind. He was even more shocked that she lived in the same apartment complex as him now. He moved in about two years ago after the lease of their shared apartment was up shortly after their breakup. Mark honestly believed that he and Linna would never cross paths again.

"Now I can't even enter my apartment because the code doesn't work, my phone died, and you smell like my ex-boyfriend."

Just as Linna inhaled the familiar scent did her mind snapped her back to reality and to her senses of what she had just said. She instantly backed up and out of Mark's embrace to stare at the person before her. A small gasp escaped her as Linna stared at her ex-boyfriend with widened eyes. Seeing Mark standing there sobered Linna quickly, but the headache remained. She wasn't sure if it was due to the alcohol or the fact that her ex-boyfriend lived in the same complex as her and that she may have mistaken his place for her own.

"You live here, too?" Linna asked rhetorically while checking the number plate to make sure she was at the right place.

She wasn't. The first number she was staring at was for the seventh floor. She lived on the fourth floor, but realized that they both lived in the eighth apartment. Linna didn't understand how that could've happened except that she may have clumsily hit the 'seven' button instead of the 'four' button when she got into the elevator. She softly groaned before slowly fixing her eyes onto Mark while wiping away the stray tears from her face.

"Um, I'm sorry, Mark. I'm just gonna go."

"Linna, wait."

"Hmm?"

"Um..."

So many thoughts crossed Mark's mind as to what he wanted to say to his ex-girlfriend, but none of it sounded right to say at that moment. A 'sorry' seemed too pathetic and just worst to bring up even after two years. A 'how are you' would probably backfire like 'are you okay' from earlier. He wanted to tell her that she looked good despite her tear-stained and red face, but that just may come out wrong and out of context. Mark sighed and resorted to just looking at Linna speechless. Linna could see that her ex-boyfriend wanted to say something to her and so waited. She wasn't sure why she stayed, but she did. Neither said anything as they continued to gaze at each other. It wasn't until a third, much younger voice, interrupted them.

"Uncle Mark."

The duo turned their attention to Mark's niece, Leah, that Linna hadn't seen since their break up. The little girl stood beside Mark and pulled on the hem of his shirt.

"I had a nightmare. I woke up and you weren't there." Leah said while sleepily rubbing at her eyes.

Leah turned her attention onto Linna to see who her uncle was talking to. Her face lit up upon seeing Linna and recognizing her.

"Auntie Linna. Hi."

Leah moved closer to hug Linna's lower body. Linna hugged the child back while casting Mark an unsure look. Mark softly cast her a small smile with a shrug.

"I missed you. Where did you? Did Uncle Mark make you cry again? Is that why you haven't visited me?"

Leah's questions brought tears to Linna's face, but for a different reason. Mark frowned upon hearing his niece's questions.

"I didn't make Auntie Linna cry, Leah."

Leah turned to face her uncle with a pointed look.

"But why didn't she come see me like before?"

Mark couldn't answer his niece honestly and so didn't reply. Linna took this opportunity to do it for him.

"Leah, sweetie," Linna called for the little girl's attention while crouching down to eye level with the child, "Your uncle and I just had to take some time apart. That's why I couldn't come see you."

Leah's facial expression turned to one of hopefulness.

"But you can come see me now, right?"

Linna briefly glanced at Mark who's facial expression didn't reveal much, but she could see in his eyes that he wanted to rekindle what they had two years ago. If she had to be honest with herself, then Linna wasn't sure if she had moved on from Mark. Sure he did her wrong, but they didn't really have any sort of closure. They just broke up without talking about anything and now here they were where she ranted to him about her work life. He comforted her in his own way even though he didn't have to. Linna inwardly sighed that being an adult was too complicated and that being child-like was much simpler back then. Her attention was brought back onto Leah.

"Auntie Linna."

"Hmm?"

"You didn't answer me."

"I dunno, Leah. It's late. Auntie has to go home."

Linna avoided answering the question fully and shot the little girl a soft look.

"It's very late, Leah. We all need to be in bed."

"C'mon, Leah. Let's let Auntie Linna go home now." Mark softly urged his niece while walking over to place his hands on his niece's shoulders to lead her back inside the apartment.

Leah wasn't giving up so easily as she took a hold of Linna's hand.

"Can you come over for breakfast?" She asked hopefully.

"Uncle Mark and me are going to make pancakes, but I know auntie like waffles so I want to make waffles with auntie. Please?"

Linna glanced at Leah's hopeful expression before looking over at Mark unsure, but his only response was to shrug his shoulders with an aloof expression and leaving it up to her if she wanted to accept or not.

"Please?" Leah repeated as she tightly held onto Linna's hand.

Linna wasn't sure if it was just Leah's way of uniting them again or if it was just fate bringing her and Mark's paths to cross one another again, but she would let it be to see where it would go. A lot could happen in two years and although it doesn't change the past it could set something else towards the future by living in the present.

"Okay, Leah. I'll join you for breakfast." Linna agreed with a small smile.

"Yay!" Leah cheered as she happily jumped up and down.

Leah let go of Linna's hand as she went to hold her uncle's instead and tried pulling him further inside the apartment.

"C'mon, Uncle Mark. We have to sleep so that Auntie Linna can come over faster."

"Okay, okay." Mark responded with a chuckle before casting Linna a smile with a small wave.

"See you later, Linna."

"See you later, Mark."

Linna returned the same gestured as Leah happily waved at her while bidding her a good night and Mark closing the door shortly afterwards. Linna inhaled deeply before exhaling a moment later. As she made her way back to the elevator a small smile graced her face as she felt relieved of stress and worries for the first time in a long while. When she get back home Linna knew that she was gonna definitely have to vent to Serena about earlier, but that she ran into her ex-boyfriend again and that their current status may change.

[shesawriter39049]

|THE PLUG|M|JIMIN|3|

SMUT/ANGST

***While out at a bar…one of Jimin’s “customers” finds out the hard way that he’s not one to be fucked with! And you find out he looks reallyyyy hot when he’s angry! Like..let’s have sex in the bathroom hot***

-JIMIN’S YOUR PLUG…AND HE’S KIDNA BECOMING YOUR MANS!

The OC is finally getting to see him in his...element...but can she handle it?

Dark haired Jimin has arrived…

The OC is officially his baby, he’s soo damn soft for her

Jimin’s smooth and fine AF and he knows it

Tatted and pierced Jimin’

Slight cliffhanger.....

7k -

***This can be read as a stand-alone, without confusion but the topic of “TIM” which is discussed towards the end... Won’t have the same effect....until you go back to the previous chapter! ***

NOTE- I’m not sexualizing violence, what I AM saying is, yes it’s sexy when your partner can hold their own when provoked. Let’s be real nobody wants to see their man get his ass beat!

WARNINGS:Bathroom/ Public sex,Dom Jimin, Oral  I.E you let Jimin fuck your throat, then he goes down on you from the back, Dirty talk, Overstimulation, Light praise kink, Light daddy kink, Implied cumplay (it will make sense once you read it) A ton of teasing prior too soo ugh yeah, have at it!  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you ladies mind if we join you?” The sound of his voice alone had you shifting in your seat, a slight arch curling up your spine, subtly crossing your legs, butterflies forming in the pit of your stomach. Well, isn't this a pleasant little surprise? Already well aware of who it was before you even turned around, there was only one person that could have this kind of effect on you without even seeing their damn face.

Trying to play it cool as your gaze fluttered to your left, eyeing him under your full set of lashes though you failed miserably! Once your eyes finally took him in, like..really took him in, it’s just...fuck it’s only been two days...since you’d seen him! Two fucking days man! Apparently, within those two days, Jimin decided to wake up and choose violence, and his main attack was apparently opting against being a bottle blonde. Obviously, you knew that wasn’t his natural color, I mean...duh, but that's the only one you've ever known when it comes to his appearance.

And if you thought that look was lethal apprently you aint seen shit yet..

Currently standing in front of you with an almost jet black mane of hair on his head, holding it’s usual slightly tousled look, a couple pieces falling in his face. Though you can’t even deny how much healthier it looks, full of volume, damn near a Panteene commercial at this point! The dark contrast only amplified his features especially his cherry-stained lips and caramel complexion. Bouncing against a barely buttoned leopard dress shirt and distressed black jeans, you had to give it to him, Jimin had style. He’s a subtle flexer if you will, far from the stereotype that probably pops in your mind when you think of your “Local plug” A little less gaudy monogram designer, and a little more... Urban Outfitter. He didn’t want you to look at him and just “know” who he was or what he did…

I’ll tell you one thing, there wasn’t a damn thing subtle about how hard you were staring, eyes undressing him from head to toe without even trying. A slight hiss leaving your lips in the process, the smirk on his face proved he was pleased..gazing back at you, eyes demanding your undivided attention which you gave effortlessly. Head cocked to the side as he appraises you, piercing teasing at the corner of his mouth as it runs along his bottom lip. 

“Hi” Lashes fluttering in there direction, Melissa’s delivery was strong enough for both of you and you didn't blame her, I mean fuck, you really couldn't! Not when he was standing in front of you looking like the whole damn menu and the dinner mint! He was also accompanied by an equally attractive slightly taller gentlemen, dark wavy hair, dressed in all black. Thankfully he seemed to be the one she was automatically drawn too, would've been kinda awkward if her eyes swayed in the other direction.

“This is Tae, and I’m Jimin…” Licking his lips slowly teeth grazing his bottom lip, eyes locked and loaded in your direction, this man just really wasn’t trying to give you room to breahe! Just permanently keeping his foot on your neck and there wasn’t shit you could do about it. Thankfully your already sitting, so he can’t tell your knees are knocking together. Though, you already knew the game you just walked into, almost feeling like an unintentional form of roll play if you will. As both of you decided to keep this very, very low key until you figured out what “This” actually is.

“Melissa..”

“Y/n..” Purred off your tongue, casually flipping your hair over your shoulder, cocking your head to the side slightly as you continued eye fucking the hell out of him. Let’s just say you were a little more than thankful that this was just a little “Game” and Jimin’s already going home with you tonight if you even let him make it that far. Thighs already humming, you’d be down to bend over the bartop right now to be honest, fuck before the nights over you just might.

A pleased little humm leaves his lips in response, eyes flickering down to your almost empty martini glass. Bracing his weight on the bartop, diaglog to yours, fingers gently grazing your arm.Blunt nails teasing against your skin in the process...

“Aye Kol,” Flicking his head twords the four of you, indicating he wanted the bartendrs attention. “Let me getttt..mmm” Whisitling absently filling the silence while he contemplates on his posion of choice. Though all your thinking about is how good his lips look pouted out like that, and the way they feel wrapped around your-

“Four shots of Don..add it to my tab... “ Eyes drifting away from the bartender, only to shamelessly let his gaze drop down to your breast which you currently sitting and on full display in your LBD. “You are absolutely stunning by the way…”  A slight smile tugging on his lips as he raked his fingers through his hair. Casually invading your space placing a thigh between your legs just enough for his cologne and body heat to slowly consume you. I swear your a second away from melting against your seat as we speak! There was just something about the current gleam that laced within those big puppy dog eyes of his that just had you melting in your seat.

You couldn't even help the giddy, almost nervous chuckle that left your lips at that, feeling almost uncomfortably flustered actually, finding it hard to even hold steady eye contact with the man before you. 

Jimin shakes his head absently “Fuck adorable” Rolls off his lips low and warm, more so for him than anyone else, though you heard and it instantly rips you right out of whatever little world you were just floating in. Smacking him in the chest playfully, eyes rolling with all the sass in the world which only has him smiling even wider. So fuckin fond it’s ridiculous! 

I guess becase in all actuality the two of you technically skipped this phase in a sense. So having Jimin walk up to you at a bar, smooth as can be, flirting as if it was his first time meeting you, as if he was trying to make a lasting impression, was one of the sexiest things he’s ever done.

Before you could even respond the drinks were placed in front of you,and these were the biggest “shot” glasses you’d ever seen but okay, pop off I guess. Nose burning from the smell alone, a second a way from growing chest hair.

 “Are we toasting to anything?” Your eyes snapped in his direction and holyshit, that was the first time you heard this Tae human speak and his voice did NOT match his face! Like at all...the deep baritone caught you completely off guard, and that was clearly all it took before Mel was damn near in his lap doubling over.

Jimin shrugged short and nonchalant, waving the class around as he speaks ”Shit why not..” Pausing so you could all raise your glasses “Here's to us having a damn good night” Eyes wandering in your direction, gaze dropping, right along with his voice...  “...with two beautiful women…” Yup, theres a slight chill moving up your spine.

“Ohhh” Eyes flickering between both men “The toast is in our honor? Aren't you charming” Mel bit back playfully, something a little wicked playing within her iris which earned a quick wink from Jimin. Leaning in to click your glasses together,taking it straight to the head and instantly regretting the shot all in one gulp! Chest burning slightly once it slid down your throat, you watched Jimin bite into the lime with a smirk, clearly liquor was equivalent to water when it comes to him. He didn't even flinch, just as you were about to grab yours he grabbed your jaw, holding it ajar as he slid his tongue into your mouth. Letting the two of you volley the tiny piece of lime against your tongues before he ultimately ended up swallowing it. A slight moan leaving your chest as you relaxed into him the bitterness of the lime and tequila melting along his tongue.

Before you even knew it, your hands are hangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, he was pulling a way and you were damn near chasing after him. “God I can’t wait to take you home…” Slurred off his tongue, never fully pulling away from you..the admission ripped a smile from your lips.

“Who's to say I’m going home with you?” Eyes heady and full of mirth as you rake your nails down his neck “We just met sir…” Breaking away from the kiss, reclining in your seat,lashes fluttering up at him far to innocently for overall motive. Coly teasing the pointe of your stiletto up his inner thigh and the level of smugness that curled up his face let you know you really didn't wanna hear a damn thing he had to say.

Leaning down so his lips were brushing over yours, halting your motion, with a  hand firm around your thigh, spreading them apart slightlu. Teasing towards your heat which you know actualy feels like heat because your currently sitting here clenching around fucking imagination as his hands briuse against your skin. Fingers trickling up twiards the edge of your panties, toying ith the lace,and it took every once of self contraol not to grind into his hand. Not that  You already knew he got what he wanted, you were already wet … question answered! Brow arched arrogantly, pulling back signaling for you to hop off the barstool.

Casually dusting his tongue over his fingertips though you know in all actuality theres nothin there...but fuck man!

“That’s, how I know your going wherever the fuck I want you too…” Grabbing your hand to pull you in front of him before letting his hands find their home on your waist. Leaning don to pres another firm kiss along your lips. Now that ”Introductions” Where out of the way, Jimin didn't need to censor himself anymore. Realistically if you really had just met..this is the perfect setting for the two of you to be all over each other with no questions asked. “

“Aye Tae” flicking his head to the side slightly gesturing he wanted them to leave, Jimin lead the way..guiding your hips where he wanted you to go.

“Sooo, is this the part where you actually do something about the current situation you caused between my thighs orr”  Tilting your head up so your lips brushed against his ear, nipping the lobe between your teeth, the bite wasn’t the most playful to be honest, he sensed how impatient you already where. Not that he cared, Jimin loved getting you riled up, needy, begging...all the things you hate because you HATE to be teased.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, hands stroking up your sides, nosing at the rook of your neck “Not yet baby...daddy still has some business to handle first…” Fingers trickling down your forearm before intertwining your fingers, leading you through the sea of people. 

Business? What kinda business are you handling at Orleans on a Thursday night? You knew better than to ask, so you just conuntied walking. You weren’t expecting to see him until close to midnight. if you even saw him at all so just his presence alone was welcomed, sexual or not!  

Jimin lead the four of you to this area in the back of the bar, it was tucked into a niche within the wall, you’d noticed it before typically reserved for private parties. Once you enter you see about 10 people spread out around the black leather couches, a couple bottles sitting in the middle. The majority of them were girls, as expected but that’s when you realize you've seen this group of guys around before..with Jimin actually. Eight months ago at Jhonnys wasn't the first time you’d ever seen him it was just the first time the two of you actually spoke. Considering these faces were very familiar you couldn't help but wonder if two of them where Yoongi and Namjoon, especially considering the way they looked at you. As if they knew you weren’t just some random chick from the bar that Jimin planned to take home for a one night stand! A combination of a smile and a smirk tugged on there lips as you walked past.

“Business” Is exactly what this was though...a business outing if you will, Jimin was here for a reason, more than just drinks and domb brick oven pizzas! Since he lives almost 40 minutes away from where it appears he does most of his business which is probably intentional and really smart actually. Once or twice a month to cut down on the commute he stays stationary in a public..crowded place, like a bar or a club...and make himself accessible to his regulars. That’s also the reason he’s not alone..why he has backup if need be!

Giving daps to a couple of the guys sitting around, you noticed the way some of the girls attempted to size you up. Not that you gave less than a damn, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you swayed in Jimin direction. Little did you know they all took turns throwing themselves at him one by one  and he respectfully declined...nothing but salt dusting along there face.

Letting your hips get lost in the music as a mix of “LUV” By Tory Lanze came on...dancing your way back to him, eyes trailing you before head to toe. “Come’re” Biting down on his bottom lip as he signaled for you to follow him as he walked backwards. Actually he swayed backwards, body rolling effortlessly against the beat, luring you away from the group.  Leading you towards the back of the room until he was happy with the amount of ‘Privacy” the two of you had, pulling your waist against his, until your lashes were almost touching. Eyes leveled, while both of you found the rhythm of the song. One thing you knew for damn sure is Jimin could dance, and he danced just as smooth as he fucked! You found that out the first night you met him, in a setting very similar to this actually, pressed against one another in the back of a bar, grinding the night away.

He was a smooth, effortlessly sexy.. he knew how to grind against you without just slamming his hips into you, like he was playing bumper cars! The dim lighting in the bar only added to the overall aesthetic. Adding the perfect glow to both of your skin, making you look even more alluring than usual..almost mysterious the way the lights hit your features.  Brining your hands up to caress the back of his neck, eyes prying into Jimin’s merrsically as you rolled your hips with the beat. Effortlessly matching your rhythm with his hips as they swayed along with yours, letting you take the lead for now. Lips purposely ghosting over yours, refusing to give you what you needed..just enough to drive you insane.

Jimin’s hands were itching to get closer to you, soothing them down to take a possessive hold on the curve of your ass. Tiling your lips up to ease at his ear ”I need to feel you closer than that…” Purred off your tongue while your nails clawed at his scalp. Not even bothering to respond, grabbing your wrist to spin you around so your back was flesh against his chest..ass at perfect height to grind against his hips. Resting your head on his shoulder, gaze slightly hazy, caressing the back of his neck in one hand. Lips trickling up the side of his neck “You look really sexy tonight by the way…” left your lips in nothing but a moan. Pushing your ass back to grind into him even deeper, Jimin's hands taking a firm grip on your waist,

Now it was his turn to be in control.

“Yeah? Is that why you’re practically fucking me right now?” Breath hot and heady against your skin “ You’d let me have you right here wouldn't you?” An all-knowing chuckle rattled through his chest, fingers teasing the hem of your dress, edging it further and further up your waist “ You’d let me do whatever I wanted to you..” Nipping at your ear, guiding your hips to match the deep waves of his, lips panting into the side of your neck.

A low whine leaving your throat, eyes fluttering shut “You already know I would…..fuck your so hard right now…” You could literally feel his dick pressing into your ass, the imprint was so strong you almost questioned if he actually whipped it out! Slipping your hand between the two of you, cupping him in your palm until you were satisfied with the slight whimper that left his throat.  “Thatt’a boy..”

The two of you carried on like that even into the next song,,breathing each other in, hands gripping onto any and everything they could reach. Jimin started whispering in your ear , everything he wanted to do to you tonight everything he was going to do to you tonight, and at that point it was game over! Your entire body was aching for him, one more deep roll of the hips was all it took to snag his last ounce of self control. Swinging you around so your back was flush with the wall “Jimin fuckk-please..” Whined from your lips and you weren’t even sure what you were asking for...were you asking for him to fuck you!? NOW!? In the back of a VIP room..hell yeah you were, a second away from begging for it actually...until

“Tae-TAE! Aye...come’re man, come look at this shit!”

The words, more importantly, the delivery had Jimin halting momentarily, it was actually scary how quickly he could switch gears. While you were left totally breathless and a little confused as he pried his eyes from yours letting them flutter over his shoulder. Observing the way the younger slid Melissa off his lap so he could see what was going on. The voice flooded from behind the set of deep red curtains which acted as the “door” if you will.  Letting your hands smooth up his back, naturally you find yourself intrigued by the situation just as much as Jimin.

“Who is that by the way ” Eyes flickering in the tallers direction observing the way he actually almost appears to be arguing with whoever he’s talking too.

A slight smirk tugging on Jimin’s lips as he brought his focus back to you, caging your body between his and the wall with one deep roll of the hips. Nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. In an attempt to distract you as he knew you wouldn’t like his response. Trailing open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, teasing your skin with the cool metal of his piercing until he pulled a restrained moan from your throat. “Just… one of my boys baby…”

His very VERY vague response triggered an exasperated huff to leave from your chest eyes rolling to the back of your head. This only made Jimin chuckle unbothered as ever, as he continued trailing kisses up the side of your neck.

“Listen, when it comes to my feelings I’m an open book, whatever you want from me you can have.” Pausing slightly smiling at how adorably bratty you looked, a slight pout moving up your face.Flicking at your bottom lip with his thumb, soothing over the soft skin. 

“Buttt, when it comes to my business…” Brow tilited in your direction “For your safety as much as mine…for now…the less you no the better.” Leaning down to place a kiss along your forehead “ He’s a good kid though, if he wasn’t I wouldn’t let him within breathing distance of anyone you know…trust me baby..” Lips heading south until they finally met yours, the strong bite of tequila still laced against your tongue as he kissed you!

You wanted to continue pouting and argue but realistically you had no right so you checked yourself real quick ! This was still fresh, and Jimin’s not some pretty boy in a suit, he’s a pretty boy who also happens to be a drug dealer!

Hands slowly soothing up his chest before letting them have free reign to get lost in his freshly dyed locks! Hiking one of your legs around his waist so his hips could be buried as deep as possible. Yet Jimin couldn't focus, as much as he wanted too..and he really wanted too,he found himself constantly distracted by the bits and pieces of conversation that kept bouncing in and out of his ears! Hoping Tae could handle it on his own, but considering the way things kept escalating he knew he’d be forced to step in..and just like clockwork.

“Nah fuck that! You're not running this game one me! He’s right over there, I’ll just go take my issues up with your boss..” Jimin was waiting for it, it was clear as all hell he wanted to be heard to begin with. “Since you wanna act brand new! AYE PARK!”

Pulling away from you with a growl that made your chest tighten. Tossing his head back, taking a couple slow steady breaths as if he's tryng to recenter himself. Doing some form of inner “Don’t kill this motherfucker” mantra, the pause is so baited it’s almost as if he was debating weather to respond  or not! 

Once Jimin’s eyes fluttered open his entire aura changed withi seconds... “There better be a damn good reason for you to be interrupting me right now...” Gaze daggering in the duo’s direction  jaw tight, brow arched. Gently unwrapping your leg from his waist, ushering you to sit on his lap as he sat on the couch.

“No there's not! Ignore him he’s fucking wasted!” Tae tried, oh he tried, to cut in and end whatever “This” was but clearly that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

“Yes there is-”

“No there’s not-”

‘What the fuck is the issue!? I don't have time for dumbshit.” Though he wasn’t yelling the sudden grit within Jimin’s voice was something completely foreign to you...his demeanor was something completely foreign to you. “Who the hell are you, and what’s your malfunction?? “ Flagging his hand haphazeradly as if to say “Hurry the fuck up!”

A dry scoff left the mans chest at that, almost charging in your direction, Jimin didn't flinch but the grip he held around your waist tightened on instinct. You’d be lying if you said you didn't get a little nervous, body tensing slightly under his hold.

“Fix this shit!” Pouring out an entire eight of weed onto the table...just casually...in the middle of a bar, throwing the black plastic bottle in the process. Making it rithoche off the table, almost hitting you in the face actually, Jimin’s reflexes coming in without a second thought, swatting it out the way.  The way Jimin’s eyes cut into however the hell the idiot was..let you know he just royally fucked up! The sharp breath that slipped past your lips did not go unnoticed…it’s like the sound suddenly set a bomb off inside Jimin’s head.

“Joon…” Sliding you off his lap gently almost ushering you to the left, but it was clear you had no idea what he wanted that’s when Namjoon spoke up.

“Over here sweetheart..” Signalling for you to sit next to him, the warmest smile on his face, his gesture not at all matching the setting, but you couldn't complain. His voice extremely soothing which helped since you were feeling a little more than uncomfortable right now!

“Min, Escort all of the ladies out of the room please…..”

Jimin’s delivery mirrored Namjoons, calm, collected, unbothered actually... which had you questioning if stuff like this was a common occurrence for him! Just as you went to get up Namjoon grabs your wrist.”Not you..stay where I can see you love…”

Ohh..Ohhh..Kay??! I mean to be fair you’d prefer not to be here right now but sure okay!

Mellissa’s eyes searched yours cautiously because again, she didn't know your history with Jimin but you flagged her along. Thankfully Tae whispered something that must've put her at ease because she left.

Jimin's eyes cut down to all the contorbant lying out in front of him, he knew it would only be minutes before the smell flooded the entire back area of the bar. His crop was cured to perfection, every batch.

“I paid for an eighter , look at that shit! That’s not a fuckin eighth...I want my shit fixed, and weighed out in my damn face!”

A sigh of almost embarrassment left your chest at that, you could see the issue off rip, so could Jimin.  Outside of the fact that you could literally smell the cheap vodka pouring off his tongue as he spoke…Whatever strand he got was dense...so on the surface until it’s broken apart it may not “look” like an eighth. That’s why you weigh your weed...the nugs weren’t even open. All he did was open the cup ...poured it out ...and bitch!

Jimin raised up from his seat slowly, walking in his direction, nodding actually..almost as if he was genuinely taking in what this guy had to say. Not stopping until the pair were eye level, yet surprisingly whoever this dude was, he didn't back down. Eyes narrowing in Jimin’s direction, as you sat back anxiously, waiting  for someone to say something!

“Get the fuck outta my face.” You damn near choked when you heard that,who the hell is this man and where's Jimin!?

 “After all that...” Flicking his hand around as if to reiterate all the previous bullshit as he pointed down at the table “I don't give a fuck what you paid for what you THINK your missin!” You could see his jaw twitch from where you were sitting, you’d never heard his voice that dark, stern, this level of dominance was a completely 360 of what he’s like in the bedroom. This was “The Plug Jimin”,  the one that lies beneath the pretty face when you push his buttons...and he was a different type of beast, literally!

“I just paid your boy $80.00, weigh my shit and fix it! I’m not fuckin leaving until you do...I got all night” Shoulder taut, chest puffed, though he still looks a tab bit ublanaced, you could probably knock him over right now. 

An almost inconvience sigh leaves Jimin’s throat, merely risiting the urge to smooth out the crease forming between his brows“I’m not askin. But for the record, what you paid for is lying on the table…” Pointing at the gangle of weed just chillin, again in the middle  “And that’s exactly where it’s gonna stay-”

“The fuck if it is …” Pressing both hands firm against Jimin’s chest, not knocking him back hard enough to earn the reaction he was clearly looking for though!

“Oh shit…” Accidently slipped past your lips thankfully in nothing but a whisper but Namjoon heard you, a low chuckle forming in his chest.

Leaning over to whisper in your ear ‘Yeah, he’s fucked…”

Jimin stagers back into frame, fingers clenched at his sides..“You came in here, disrespected me and my space, threw a bottle that almost hit my girl in the face…” There was a slight pause and you swore you heart about fell out of your ass, did Jimin just call you

  “His girl”!?

‘And you think I give a flying fuck about your eighth?” Head cocked to the side, looking genuinely perplexed as he posed the question “Again. Get. The. Fuck.Out.Of.My.Face.” Jimin’s push had more impact, damn near shoving him out of the room

At this point Tae stepped in standing in between them holding Jimin's arm slightly once he noticed the guy attempt to walk back in.

Ohhhhkay, now you were nervous, I mean you assumed Jmin could fight right!?HE IS a drug dealer pretty boy or not he has to be able to hold his own right!? RIGHT!?

“So this is the way you run business Park?” He has the nerve to look amused, a dirty little smirk tugging on his lips “Pulling slick shit on your customers ?! What you thought you could scam the white boy from the burbs and I wouldn’t notice? That's a bitch ass move even for you!” An arrogant chuckle leaving his throat “I bet you Tim’s reallllllllll  fuckin proud, such a fuckin joke!” Shaking his head mockingly…

Did he just!? Tim? Really!? Hell you were ready to knock his ass out yourself at this point, you wouldn’t even fault Jimin for whatever happens next! EVEN if he swings first, drunk or not there’s fucking boundaries!

Tae could feel Jimin’s body go completely rigid, it was almost scary how quickly he switched from frustrated to straight furry. Jaw sitting so tight yours was throbing at just the site alone, “What the fuck did you just say!?” You swore Jimin’s eyebrow was damn near touching his hairline it was quirked so strong, God you were hoping he wasn’t stupid enough to respond..the shit-eating grin and arrogant chuckle that feel from his lips said otherwise though...

“I said-“ The smile was knocked right off his face , literally Jimin's fist connected with his jaw so hard you almost felt the need to stroke your own! Especially with the amount of rings he had on, you knew that impact was nasty as he hit the floor, the little shit was resilient though! He tried to pop back up and Jimin literally pounced on him, you weren't even concerned or scared anymore you were lowkey cheering him on in your head! Not saying you want to see anyone get physically abused but fuck, he knew what button he was pushing when he mentioned Tim’s name and that’s exactly why he did it. He wanted this kind of reaction from Jimin, maybe he felt as though that was his “Win” if you will, being able to pull Jimin out of his typical calm, restrained persona! Well, you won...now you get to get your ass beat, and go home weedless so good on you sir good on you!

All you could hear was blow by blow, as Jimin’s fist repeatedly connected to his jaw, each grunt that left Jimin's chest deeper and darker than the last! The boys had somehow managed to step out into the main area which is what caught the bouncers attention. Jimin’s men were the ones prying at him, while security tried to free whoever this clown was from Jimin's wrath. It was clear at that point he gave up, not even trying to fight back.Your first instinct was to try and hide the weed that was literally laying across the table because you didn’t know his relationship with the club employees. The last thing you wanted was for Jimin to possibly get arrested thanks to whoever this asshole was!

That’s when you realized the guards were calling him by his name, which let you know they were very comfortable with Jimin, even there tone as they tried to calm him down. All you could hear was them saying was different variations of  “Relax man, relax, he ain't even worth it!!”.  

To be honest, it seemed as though Tae and yourself were on the same page as he was only half heartedly helping! Jimin was clawing at every piece of clothing he could reach, he was not trying to let this man walk free. What made it even worse is it was like he enjoyed this? You swore you could still see that shit  eating grin on his face once they finally pried Jimin off! A gritty chuckle leaving his lips as he spit on the floor nothing but blood leaving his lips, aiming in Jimin’s direction. “Bitch” Slipped past his lips, as they rangled him to his feet, funny how that's the first thing to leave his lips as he just got his ass beat!

Yoongi ended up being the one to actually get Jimin to let up, arm wrapped around the front of his chest, pulling his backwards by shoulder. Finally able to see how hard Jimin was panting as Yoongi whispered something in his ear which you assumed was in Korean because you couldn't even remotely understand what was said.

“Get him the fuck outta here!!” Growled from Yoongi’s chest with so much rage,and unrefined emotion,and that alone let you know how much he cared about Jimin. You could feel his anger as held his friend, who finally appeared to be calming down. Reclining almost fully into the man behind him, essentially dead weight as he tried to calm his body down. Not even notcing once the bouncers pulled the “customer” out of the room, he was still yelling some obsenary but that this point nobody even cared enough to feed into it! The room slowly started to clear out, I guess everyone got the unspoken memo to give the two of you some space! The air felt almost suffocating once they all left, not sure what to say, or how to approach him after what just took place.

Jimin just stood in the middle of the room for a minute, hands braced on his hips, head slouched slightly as he tried to pull himself together. Little did you know he was actually nervous, wondering if he just comepley shattered any and every chance he had with you after what just happened! Walking over to plop down next to you on the couch panting heavily, ruffling his fingers through his slightly damp locks. For some reason the minute he sat down, you could sense his body language, how uneasy he felt, so you made the first move. Silently playing with the strands of hair behind his ear until his eyes fluttered over at you. Before you even had time to say anything he moved you onto his lap, a slight squeal leaving your lips in surprise. One hand finding its home on the curve of your ass while the other caressed your jaw, a deep exhale leaving his chest before he posed his question.

“You okay?” Tone slightly weary as if he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know the answer to his own question.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you gazed down at him with nothing but fondness! Already well aware he wasn’t just referring to the bottle almost hitting your face he meant in general, especially where he was concerned!

Leaning down to kiss his nose, not even caring that he was slightly sweaty, keeping your lips in place for a moment, feeling the way his entire body lax around you. “I’m good baby…. but I’m also an educated weed  ...connoisseur, who understands density levels...within different strands soooo.....”

The ugliest cackle ripped from Jimin’s lips at that tossing his head back in pure amusement, the entire vibe took a complete 360 which is exactly what you were aiming for! Yeah, shit got crazy, your original plan when leaving the house was just to grab some drinks with your girl but hell here you are!

The smile that laid along his face was short lived,it was written all over his face how mentally and physically disturbid his spirit was! And it had nothing to do with the fight and everything to do with you, cocking his head to the side slightly so his eyes could lock with yours....

 “I know-I don’t get to pick and choose but fuck, I really didn't want this to happen this way, I keep telling you “For you safety the less you know the better” yet... I damn near walked you straight into it tonight! You didin’t ask for this shit!” You could hear how frustrated he was with himself as he spoke, tone getting extremely gritty!  “I-You sure your okay? You sure your still down for all this?” The intinisty that laid within his eyes as he said that was almost stiffeling, Jimin was searching for even a flicker of uncertainty. He wouldn’t find it though,your mind was already made up! “I wouldn't blame you if you weren't at this point!You havent even gone a full month with me and your watching me step out of character on some dumb shit!” 

God you hated how hard he was being on himself right now, especially considering tonights circumstances “I literally got into a fight because some drunk idiot can’t weigh his own weed, and I physically brought you right in the middle of it, I told myself to leave you alone. Let you just chill with your girls but I just-couldn’t” Shaking his head in almost disgust as he relived the past half hour in his head,hearing how shaky and vunerable he sounds had your heart sinking “Fuck- I dont know, I don’t even knnow what I’m trying to say right now, I mean I can’t apolgize because this is my life, yet I feel like I owe you one…” Tossing his head back ruffling his fingers through his scalp hastily.

Jimin’s never promised you rainbows and butterflies, and he damn sure never once sugarcoated his lifestyle!  All he promised you was him...all of him, and he’s delivered every time! Cupping his jaw between the palm of your hands “Jimin, baby stop, I’m not goin anywhere.... don’t worry about me, I’m a big girl! I got this, plus “that” Gesturing at the weed still sprawled out along the table “ Was NOT your fault, the last thing you owe me is an apology,that asshole deserved everything he got! You warned me what I was stepping into with you, I CHOSE, to say yes, nobody forced me into this...and I still want it , I still want you! You never promised me a cake walk... you promised me you...as long as you give me that, I’ll figure the rest out on my own!”

You could litterally feel the tension leave his body as he melted into the couch while you soothed your palms, down the side of his neck, over to his chest, fuck he was so damn soft for you! You could see it in his eyes how much that confirmation meant to him, taking your hand in his, kissing the back of your palm. “Thank you” fell from his lips in nothing but whisper.”You already know you got me, in anyway you want me....I told you..you can have anything you want from me” Pulling you down for a kiss, just letting his lips linger against yours...not in any rush to do much else, he just wanted to feel you!

That alone had you moaning into his mouth, he had you wrapped around his finger jus as much as you did him! “I’ve missed you by the way, my beds been a little lonely” letting your hands have free reign under his shirt, your warmth pressing against his skin. “Plus.” leaning down to bury your face in the crook of his neck “I really want your dick in my mouth..,I still can’t get over how sexy you look when your angry... ” Sinking your teeth into “Your spot”, with a moan grinding your hips down into him.

“Babyyy, fuck” Moaned from his lips bucking his hips up into you making sure you felt how hard he was,but more importantly reminding you who was in control .

“You still feel really tense baby...I think we need to do something to release all this pent up adrenaline..” Rolling your hips into him even deeper

“God yes, you dont even know how bad I wanna fuck you...how hard I wanna make you come”  Just like clockwork, bedroom voice activated, panties completely soaked!  “Babyyy let me fuck you!”Not even attempting to pose it as a question because he already knew the anwser!

“Fuck, I’m not stopping you!”

~~~~~~~~

Within minutes your back was slamming against the bathroom stall so hard the divider was shaking, Jimin threw his entire body onto you, as he slid his tongue into your mouth with zero warning. Not even bothering to ease his way into it, he started off deep, needy, both of you needing so much from each other all at once .Hands romaing up your body, hiking your dress above your waist, not even caring to be quiet, if someone heard they heard, fuck it!

His hands were everywhere and so were yours tugging on his hair, his clothes, any and everything you could reach! Damn near ripping his shirt open you were growing so impatient to feel his skin against yours. Guiding your hand down to work his zipper, sliding his jeans down his thighs, while he pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the ground in front of his feet.. ‘Knees baby….” rolled off his tongue and to be honest you couldn't drop down fast enough, you already knew he was rock hard. No “Prep” was needed, this was solely for his pleasure as much as your. Mouth watering the minute you freed him from his boxers, he was thick and veiney, and just fucking perfect.

Glancing up at him almost doe eyed, adding a deep arch into your back as you blew on the tip “Fuck my throat…”

A smirk moved up Jimin’s face at that, letting his hand stroke your cheek“Open up, show me how much you can take baby”

Wrapping your lips around his tip, suctioning your lips around it, slowly massaging the head with your tongue. Eyes fluttering up at him, reaching over to dig your nails into his thigh, until his hand moved over to your hair, moaning out around his length at his tight he gripped your scalp. It was literally throbbing but that's why you wanted, slowly rolling his hips into your mouth “Oh fuckkkk..” head hitting the wall as he felt your jaw lax. Not stopping until he hit the back of your throat, pulling back tentatively, you could feel his muscles tensing beneath your hand. Not expecting you to start off that deep, you decided he needed a little push so you slowly started sucking him deeper, and deeper, until he yanked your head back. Holding you in place the smirk more than evident in your eyes “God I’m gonna fuck you sooo damn hard..” Growled from his lips as he slowly started to roll his hips into your mouth, everytime your mouth came flesh with his pubic boone his hand caressed the back of your head.

“Babbyyyy fuckkkkk” there it was, your favorite sound ...Jimin whining! Glancing up only to find him completely lost in the moment, eyes shut, jaw slightly ajar. His opposite hand soothing it’s way up your back as he started to pick up momentum. Rolling his hips into your mouth at a deep steady pace almost making you gag, making him feel like you were almost swallowing his dick. “Mm, your soo good baby that feels so good” the words were so faint, the fact that you already had him THIS GONE, in combination with his words of praise had your entire body tingling. Jimin’s dick was throbbing from how tight your lips were wrapped around him, fluctuating the pressure you applied, while stroking his length with your tongue.  His fingers taking an even stronger grip on your hair, as he bucked up even harder into your mouth. “Fuck stop, baby stop, stop!” Almost begging at this point, and when you decided to be a little shit...he pulled you up by your hair. Lips swollen and wet, licking his way into your mouth just enough to say  to tease you, spinning you around, letting your face almost slam into the wall in the process.

“You reallyyy fuckin askin for it tonight!”

Dress sitting mid stomach, “Well, I have been ask-fuckkkk” hand connecting to your ass with such impact you literally screamed, your skin was throbbing under his palm. Somehow you missed the part when Jimin dropped to his knees the realization came once you felt his teeth sinking into the curve of your ass. Sucking down on your skin until it was the shade of his liking, keening out in the perfection combination of pleasure and pain!  Spreading your cheeks, leaning up to bury his face within your heat, Jimin wasn't teasing tonight he was on a damn mission. “Jimin fuck-”  Reaching up, to hold onto the top of the stall devider for support, actually you were falling into it! Jimin's tongue was every damn where, the perfect angle to get his tongue deep into every crevice within your folds.  Body jerking, at every lingued stroke of the tongue, still not used to the added pressure Jimin’s piercing added, and honestly you never wanted to get use to it!   ‘Oh my godddd..” Eyes squeezed shut as his name fell from your lips repeatedly as if that was the only thing you knew how to do right now.

You could fee the tip of his nose brushing against your lips as he worked your entrance with his tongue, waving it in and out until you started trying to clench around him for more stimulation. You could hear how wet you were, how messy he was, the sound of your juices sliding around as he laped his tongue from top to bottom, teasing at your ass slightly. Moaning out as your juices slide down his face, the added vibration almost had you  toppling over yourself. Wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking, hard..as if he was trying to suck your soul out of your pussy you couldn't even breathe. “Jimin-Jimin-fuck please...just fuck me pleasee…..”

Soothing his hands up your thighs, laying his tongue flat against your heat, taking a couple long slow strokes, kissing his way up the curve of your ass as he finally got off the floor. Pressing down on your back “Arch for me baby….” Spreading your legs apart, as you lowered your spine “Put your other hand up here...your gonna need it..” God you could hear the arrogance within that but you were too needy to be a smart ass right now! Running his fingers up and down your lips which were currently dripping down his hand sliding in three fingers deep, with ZERO warning. The high pitched  moan that left your throat bounced off every wall in the bathroom, and you couldn't even get yourself to care.  Not wasting any time as he curled his fingers upwards pumping them in and out, just enough to have your walls slightly at ease. “Fuckkk…baby “ face contouring in nothing but pleasure as he felt  how wet and warm you were. He knew you really weren’t stretched out enough but fucking you open with his fingers felt like pure toture at this point. Sliding his fingers out, using your juices to coat his length, making sure he was nice and wet before he slid in.

Lips kissing along your shoulder as his tip teased up and down your folds “Jimin pleasee fuck me!”  

You were getting bratty, and impatient as you rocked your hips into him. Forcing his tip in slightly rocking back until his hands met your scalp, pulling your neck back onto his shoulder. Sinking his teeth into the base of your neck “Don’t fuckin rush me!” Growled against your neck as he dug his nails into your thighs, finally sliding in completely. You almost choked, as you felt him force his way through your heat in one steady stroke.His body flush against yours. Even though you were dripping , you still needed a moment to adjust to his stretch and he could tell. Massaging your ass gently kissing his way up your neck. He could feel you pulsing around him as you tried to adjust both of you moaning from how good he felt inside you. You couldn't help it, you were just sucking him in, involuntary clenching and releasing, and you heard him wince every time. “You ready for me baby?.” His tone was different this time around, more..intimate if you will ...instead of physically responding you just rolled your hips back into him which was all he heeded, to get him going.

Suddenly the two of you heard the stall open, the person actually into the one to your right “Good luck with that…” before you even had time to process what he meant he slammed his hips into you, a gritty chuckle leaving his throat once he heard the squeal that left yours! “Sorry...”Nothing about that even seemed sincere, considering the way continuously kept pounding into at that pace. The grip he held on your waist was so tight you knew you’d have bruises in the morning. “Shhhh” taunted off his lips with a smirk as he pounded into you …

The sound of his skin slapping against yours was enough of an indication as to what was going on, not to mention you weren't even close to quiet at this point which only added fuel to the fire.  “God your so fucking loud!” gritted through clenched teeth “You like having daddy cock inside you that much baby? Hmm you don’t even care people can hear me fucking you right now? Hear how wet your pussy gets for me” He was right you could physically hear your wetness as he slide in and out, you were dripping down his balls.

“Yes, fuck, feels so good-” you were practially whsipering you were so winded Hhs strokes were long ...deep, but fast, he was trying to ruin you and he was succeeding.  Everything was hazy you didn't care who was or wasn’t around, eyes rolling to the back of your head, your body so desperate for realise you were milking every inch of him. You could feel him hitting every spot, unraveling you never by nerve, he was all you needed, and more right now. You felt high when he was inside you, everything was just hypersensitive, It was like you could feel every detail of him. From how veiny he was  to the way his dick curved,as he coursed through your walls,coating every inch of him in your juices. And the best part is, he wants some fling at a bar he was yours..alllll yours!

“You wanna come so bad don’t you baby, look at you..dripping down my cock, such a good girl for me . I can feel you sucking me back in, fuck…” His hand smacked against the wall, as he continued to roll his hips into you, one hand digging into your hips, neck reclined, jaw extremely tight. He was just as fucked out as you were trying to hold it together,until he had you were he wanted you.

“Fuck, please, please let me cum god I can't-” You legs were starting to give in, you needed him to give you that little bit of stimulation you needed or let you do it yourself. You felt his hand move over to your bottom lip, eagerly sucking  them into your mouth, moaning against skin. His hand finally meeting the area that’s been crying out for him, and your body almost caved in, at the sudden stimulation and he wasn't gentle. Attacking your already overly sensitive bud, moving his fingers in a counterclockwise motion as he kept steady pressure on your clit. You felt the familiar feeling start to build up in your core again, you were clenching around him so tight you almost felt light headed . His lips met the side of your neck again as he flicked the skin with his teeth.

Not even able to fathom how you hadn't passed out and how he was able to continue at this pace, as he slammed into you. He’d rock his hips into you fast and hard, yet almost rolling them out of you, so it felt like he was almost..curling upwards..hitting every inch perfectly . “Right there baby? Is that what you need? You wanna make a mess all over my dick???” Nodding frantically, because you really couldn't hold it anymore..”Fucking cum then…” That was all you needed your body was quaking, clenching down around him so hard, you almost lost you balance. Eyes squeezing shut, you skin was on fire, not even able to fully process all the feelings that were taking over your body you were in such intense pleasure. Almost cumming in silence, because you forgot to breathe..”Fuck yes, that’s my baby,soo good for me..keep coming” 

“Oh my- fuck, god...yes...” Your cry wasn’t even audible as you pressed your face into the walls. nails clawing at his clothed thighs, surprised you actually didn't rip a hole straight through ..as pure pleasure rang through your ears feeling yourself drip down your thighs. You felt his hand take a firm grip around your neck, almost knocking the wind out of you as he rolled his hips into you.. deeper..teeth grazing the skin beneath your ear .

“Louder..” The command coming out in the form of a growl coursed through your veins as his opposite hand stayed connected to your clit almost making your knees buckle. You were already so swollen and beyond sensitive ”I said..LOUDER.. You've been begging to come let everybody hear you..let everyone know how good I’m fucking you, and how wet, your pussy gets for me..fuck baby your so wet..” Still amazed how he could sound just as needy as he did dominant, because all of that rolled off his tongue in nothing but a moan..half of his words slurred together. 

Continuing to rock his hips into you as you rode out your high, you felt limp at this point your body was drained..Not even able to cry out anymore instead you were just dry heaving. You honestly weren't sure, how much more you could take, you were starting to get extremely sensitive. Every stoke made your body shudder around him, each stoke made you clench even tighter. Luckily you also felt  how hard he was and how sparatic his thrusts were becoming so you knew he was close. He finally removed his hand from your clit, which allowed you to pull yourself together enough to coach him on “Is daddy gonna come for me? You made me come so fucking hard, You fill me up so good baby..” You started rocking back against him slightly, you felt his damp head of hair hit your back, as his faint moans grew stronger as they got lost against your hair.

“Is that what you want? You wanna feel me between your thighs until we get home??” He was so damn close you could hear it in his voice

Wrapping his arm around your waist his thrusts slowed down but got deeper , reclining  your neck, reaching back to grab the back of his head, making him look at you. Eyelids heavy, skin damp as he sucked his bottom into his mouth, fuck he looked so good. “Yesss, come for me baby pleaseee I need it, fuck you feel so good, ” A deep husky moan left his lips at the sound of your parise,, he fucking loved, it, damn near melting at your touch.He crashed his lips into yours. Tighten your walls around him, as hard as you could and that was all he needed, hearing him moan against your tongue was probably one of the sexiest things you've ever heard. The harder he came the deeper he kissed you, as the grip on your waist got tighter.

Even after he came, while his breathing was still erratic, his lips never left yours, just letting his tongue play with yours lazily and he sucked it into his mouth. You honestly lost track of how long the two of you stayed like that, both of you were sweating hard as hell.You felt his hands sooth up your thighs, as you massaged his scalp, you could the mixture of both of your arousals still running down your thighs.”Your fuckin amazing…” Something about his delivery let you know he meant that more than just sexually! Smiling into the kiss he pressed along your lips as he pulled out,spinning you around so you were finally facing him. “My pretty baby..” Fell from his lips, as he gazed down at you, eyes glazed over, skin dewy, hair a tousled mess over your head..your loose curls now long gone.Panting hard as hell yet in his eyes you looked fucking perfect! 

The feeling of both of  your arousals slicking down your thighs, had you ready to come all over again, Jimin filled you to the brim. Holding onto the top of the divider for support, thighs still shaking especially because you were wearing heels!  “W-What are you doing??” Staring down puzzled once you saw him sink to his knees….

“Look how much of a mess I made…” Teasing his fingers up your folds, playing with his cum that was currently seeping down your thighs “Your drippin everywhere baby..I gotta clean you up a little before we leave..”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you walked out of the bar hand and hand, both still head and body high, legs feeling like complete mush in your heels as you clung to Jimin for dear life. Face nuzzled in his side, the cool breeze was more than welcomed, while the two of you maneuvered through the lot. Still full of druken people moving far too slow for your liking! Alll you wanted was to get Taco bell, shower, and crawl in bed with Jimin...in that order!

“Fuck where the hell did I park!?”

Slapping Jimin’s chest playfully ‘How the hell should I know I rode here in a Uber! I swear to god Jimin I’mma make you carry me in a minute my thighs are not set up for this right now, hit your damn panic button!”

“Aye Park…” A voice whispered through the parking lot, the sound alone had Jimin head spinning, squeezing your hand a little tighter, pulling you behind him slightly. Almost as if to shield you from the gentlemen that was currently posted on the hood of a lime green Camaro.

“What’s up?” You could read it in his tone, it was friendly but somewhat cautious all at the same time...clearly, you weren't the only one who picked up on it either. Am amused chuckle rumbled in the stranger's chest, as he wrapped his lips around a cigarette.

“Don’t sound too excited to see me...I drove all the way from Cleveland  JUST for you, you should feel special. Plus..ya boy needs a favor”

You watched Jimin’s eyes flutter shut briefly, reaching into his pocket to hand you his keys “Hey baby..go wait in the car for me...” His blatant shift in demeanor had you a little concerned, more so now than earlier, you weren’t good at hiding your emotions either so he read it all over your face.

“I’ll be there in a minute….” Flicking his head to the left, indicating you needed to dismiss yourself..so that’s exactly what you did! Slipping the keys from out of his hands, scurrying to find his car. A million and one scenarios spinning through your head in the process! 

“Who’s that?” Cocking his head to the side slightly, eyeing your ass, as you walked off...Jimin didn't say shit though, and it took everything in him not too! He didn’t want him to know that he cared enough about you to say something, the less he knew about you the better!

“Don’t worry about it! What do you need Jay?”

  THAT'S ALL SHE WROTE FOR NOW! IF YOU LIKED IT “LIKE IT” COME HIT UP THE ASK AS LONG AS THE SERIES KEEPS GETTING LOVE  I’ll CONTINUE IT! LOVE YOU GUYS AS ALWAYS,

ROCKI!

FINAL NOTE- OH, IF YOU FOLLOW THE SERIES THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER 21 QUESTIONS BUT THERE WILL STILL BE A PART TWO.THE QUESTIONS THAT ARRISE WITHIN THAT MINI SERIES WILL CORRELATE WITH THE MAIN SERIES...HINTS WHY TIM WAS DISCUSSED IN PART 1! SOOO IN PART 2 THERE WILL BE A HINT AS TO WHO “JAY” IS AND GIVE YOU A IDEA OF WHAT HE WANTS. 

MASTERLIST

[theartofbeinganeldar]

The Art of Being an Eldar: Legolas x Reader Chapter 4

Summary: After discovering that you were stuck in the fantasy world you had no recollection of, your memory was jogged after weeks of depression: this land was Middle-Earth. A council of wizards and Elves was summoned, and Thranduil expressed his wishes of wanting you gone. Elrond agreed to take you in and Gandalf was excited to share in his adventures with someone who knew nothing of the world, quite like a Hobbit, but you wanted to stay in Mirkwood, with Legolas and Tauriel, of which you'd made friends with. Legolas leaves in three days to locate the orcs who enroach upon Mirkwood's northern flank, and the council sees this as a chance for you to prove your worth. If you fail, you are to leave Mirkwood...

Chapter No.: Chapter 4

Key: [Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color

Notes: I want to thank all my readers for their feedback, likes, and reblogs! I'm only on Chapter 4 and all of you combined have made me feel really good about my writing. I've gotta admit, I was a little scared of going through with this multi-chapter fic at first, because while a few people really liked and enjoyed my stories on DeviantArt, they never got the reception The Art of Being an Eldar has. I just thought my writing sucked for the most part. Thank you all so much!

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, The fucking Silmarillion, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused,  Denethor's a bitch as always, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Wormtongue Grima Wormtongue, Boromir lives, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me.)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Thorin x OC, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words. Rating: Teen (14+) for now

"You what?"

Apparently Leggy didn't comprehend the concept of being accompanied by a suddenly Elvish human from another dimension.

With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you repeated, "I said, I'm coming with you when you leave for your orc-hunting mission."

Legolas narrowed his eyes. "And who gave you permission to do this?"

"The council, that's who. So suck it up buttercup, I'm coming with your sorry ass."

Legolas rolled his eyes. "Very well. Tell me, aside from randomly swinging a sword, do you know anything about weaponry?"

You raised an eyebrow. Shit, you'd have to fight? "No, but I can say a mouthful of greetings in Elvish."

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Nin ista, Sairen, but words are not mightier than fighting skill in battle."

You scoffed. "I can think of a pretty famous phrase from my world that totally contradicts that..."

Legolas shook his head as he sauntered past you, down the stairs of the bridge you'd found him on. The sounds of his bows and knife sheaths clanking together as he walked relaxed you. "Of course you do, mellon." He paused to look at you. "Are you not coming? We leave in three days. If you are intent on coming with me, surely you cannot believe I will let you go without even so much as learning the proper way to stab an opponent?"

You made a face, but followed him anyway. "I know how to stab."

"How, then?" He gestured to you pointedly and crossed his arms.

"Um..." You mimed the gesture you'd probably use while stabbing an orc in the guts. "Like... This? With a twist?"

"That may work if your enemy has the weak skin and flesh of a human, or even on an Elf," He pointed out, "But we are fighting orcs, Sairen. Their hide is as thick as that of a boar, and their flesh is equally so." With a flourish, he flipped out one of his long knives. He paused in handing it to you. "I am not letting you keep this, mellon. My mother gave them to me."

You froze in reaching for the weapon. "You have a mother?"

Legolas chuckled at your wide-eyed expression. "You thought I did not?"

You stiffened before hurriedly turning away. "No! Of course not! Why would you think that?!"

Legolas laughed as he followed you. "Well, I do have one. She has been away on the other end of the palace-city. I should introduce you to her."

"Is she as fabulous as your dad?" You ran the tip of your index finger along your eyebrows. "And maybe even with the same super dark eyebrows?"

Legolas smiled. "No, no. She is perfectly beautiful."

"So you're saying your dad's not?"

"What?"

"Nothing." You waved a hand. "Where's the training grounds again?"

Legolas grinned evilly. "Well, your training begins now, Sairen. See if you can actually get to said training grounds without killing yourself on that blade."

Your jaw fell. "Are you fucking kidding me?! That's child's play! Don't you think I already know how to not do that?!"

"That is a double negative sentence, but no, I do not believe you already know this skill." Blue-Eyes shot you another grin. "Besides, we are not taking the average path to the training grounds. They are outside of the palace, after all. We will go out and around, on the hardest path imaginable. For a human, they would be entirely impassable."

You stared up at him dumbly. "Uh... Do... Do you even realize I spent the last nineteen years of my life around people with the mindset of shit water I might die because I'm a-- I was a-- human? Also, I was never agile. I won't be able to make it over a log, if it's big enough."

Blue-Eyes gave you a disapproving look. "Do the humans of your world never traverse nature?"

You pretended to think about that

"Hm... Let me see... Uhm... Yeah, nope, pretty much never, unless you're one of those super outdoorsey kinds of people, and the true ones of those are rare. For instance, most usually wear really tight clothes and walk through parks with stone paths and everything primped to perfect condition so that nobody even gets grazed by a dandelion, and everything's sprayed to keep the bugs away and animals are limited to squirrels and bunnies, then they wanna act like they just walked the fuckin' Sahara Desert without water. Real outdoor people are rare. Steve Irwin? Real. Bear Grylls? Real. Josh Gates? Real. Hell, when I was a very tiny little girl I used to watch a kid's show with two brothers who pretty much lived in the jungle. But out of everybody, those are the ones I can think of right off the top of my head. Them, and the few tribal races still out there."

Blue-Eyes made a surprised face. "Well... I am glad you got a chance to experience what real life is like."

"Thank you, Blue-Eyes." You'd reached the front gates of the palace, which were opened by a couple of those ninja Elf guys. You and Legolas walked on through, and into the forest, with its pink and amber leaves, down here, nullified into black and gray, piling up in the muck of the forest floor.

You'd been surprised when you'd seen this part of Mirkwood. Apparently, only the northern half was unaffected, but the rest of the once-spectacular Greenwood the Great was now victim to a strange plague, orc attacks from the north, and giant spider infestations from the south, from an ancient ruin called Dol Goldur. Animals no longer lived here, the rivers had mostly gone thick with filth, and the trees rotted and groaned in agony. The forest would confuse you, threaten to swallow you up and make you lose your way...

If you weren't an Elf.

Luckily for you and ol' Leggy, the two of you were Elves, and he had been raised here. If you stuck close to him, you'd be fine, even if the forest did manage to confuse you. He could hardly remember a time when the slow-acting plague hadn't been part of some region of the forest, and Tauriel had told you that he was 2, 371 years old. That was a long time for a forest to be sick.

"What even caused Mirkwood to get sick? Do you even know?"

"It is a nameless malice," Blue-Eyes replied, stopping all show-offy on a thick, low-hanging bough that precariously hung over a small gorge. "The darkness stems from Dol Goldur. Now, there are rumors; rumors of a necromancer, who resides in the ruins of that ancient fort."

"Necromancer?" That hardly sounded good. In anything where it was used, necromancer usually meant one who raises dead. "That doesn't sound good. Have you investigated it?"

"Of course not," Blue-Eyes gave you an odd look, like you'd just suggested he drink out of the toilet or something. You struggled to get up the side of a log he'd just casually hopped onto. "Why should we? They are merely rumors, and the forest has been sick for a long, long while. Still... This darkness unsettles me, as it does to all Sindar whom reside here."

"Dude, then maybe you should check the fuckin ruins," You mumbled, but he ignored you and continued hopping around from flowertop to flowertop. You just trampled noisily and clumsily along behind him. "Don't you guys like, live for light? So shouldn't you see if the ruins really do have a necromancer now? Especially since this dark ooze comes from it?"

Blue-Eyes shook his head. "King Thranduil does not wish for time to be wasted on rumors when we have other matters to deal with."

"Oh, so you mean he's too busy having everybody vote on which crown of berries goes best with his eyebrows."

"What?"

"Nothing. You Elves are just stupid."

Legolas grinned. "Well, humans are equally intellectually challenged."

You paused in chasing after him, stunned. He turned to face you when he didn’t hear you following. "Did you seriously just do that?"

"Do what?"

"You literally just used big words to sound smart." You laughed theatrically. "Oh! Pardon me, fine companion, I meant to implicate that you utilize gargantuan idioms to fabricate intelligence."

He smiled slightly as you finally made it up beside him. "I suppose you are not so daft," He relented teasingly, "Otherwise you would not even have those words in your vocabulary."

You made a face and rolled your eyes. "Whatever, blondie."

The training grounds were closer than you remembered, even taking the roundabout route. Along the way, though, you'd fallen into a bog, got your face scratched up by evil tree branches, and tumbled head-over-heels down a steep ravine, getting battered and bruised all over your body.

Apparently Middle-Earth-- Mirkwood specifically-- was prone to give previously non-Elvish members of other worlds injuries.

You made quite a show; barreling through a thorn bush and landing flat on your face right on the edge of the training grounds. You heard all the Elves turn their weapons on you, in case you were an orc, but then they seen your sorry ass, and Leggy casually coming down the steep ridge as if it was just a flight of stairs.

"Mae govannen," Said Legolas cheerfully to the Elves. Casually, he picked up his knife, which you'd thrown away from you halfway down so you didn't impale yourself at any point during the fall. Still, it'd skittered down alongside you. "Sairen, it seems you've failed this test."

"I dropped it on the goddamn border..."

"Nevertheless," Blue-Eyes ignored your response. "We are here now, and forfeiting other forms of training for the sake of redoing one failed task is pointless. You will learn as much as you can here, until I say we stop."

You finally moved, trying to at least sit up on your elbows. "It's only noon. We've got till nightfall, yeah? I can do that. No problem."

Legolas grinned down at you. "Mellon, you are of the Eldar now. You are stronger than before and do not need sleep unless you wish to dream."

"I don't what?!"

"Elves do not sleep unless we have been injured and need to heal," He replied, and grabbed you by the underarms to help you up. "We are stronger and more resilient than the race of Men. You are no longer imprisoned by the necessities of the human body."

Instant headrush slammed into you. "Apparently not all human body shit..."

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you speak of?"

"Headrush, dammit."

"Oh," He grew amused. "Do you mean the Blackness? Unfortunately, that befalls us all."

You glared daggers at him.

Another Elf approached, with a slender face and long brown hair. "My lord, most of the training grounds are taken up. You may yet have mine, if you wish so."

Legolas smiled. "Ah, my thanks. [Y/N], this is one of the Elves that accompanied Lord Elrond here, Lindir."

You extended your hand. "Nice to meet you."

Both Blue-Eyes and Lindir looked at your hand in confusion. Lindir, with a glance to Legolas, slowly tried to hand you his bow. With a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head, you realized they didn't even understand what a handshake was. "No no no, sorry; that's called a handshake. It's what two people do when they meet each other where I come from. I didn't mean to confuse you. SO." You bowed in the Elvish way. "Mae govannen, Lindir of House Elrond."

Lindir and Blue-Eyes smiled. Lindir returned your bow. "Mae govannen, [Y/N] of House Thranduil."

"Lindir will be accompanying us to trace the orcs, and Erestor of Rivendell," Said Legolas, "As will another of our own house, Elros; I believe you have met him already. He was the Elf who lead you to the councilroom. From Lothlorien is a friend of mine, Haldir, and of course, with the other Elven Lords aiding us, Mithrandir feels he should send his own aid as well..."

Lindir's eyes widened. "Do not tell me..."

Blue-Eyes nodded seriously. "He is sending Naughrim to accompany us."

"Naughrim?" You asked. Of all names, that didn't sound familiar. "Who's that? Somebody not well-liked among Elves?"

Blue-Eyes fought a smile. Lindir answered you. "Mellon, Naughrim is our tongue for dwarves."

Your mouth formed an 'o' in recognition. "Ohhhh, now I get it. Elves and dwarves hate each other for no explainable reason. Got it. Who's he sending?"

Blue-Eyes shook his head in exasperation. "They are all of Erebor. Balin and Dwalin, two are named, and of the other, he is the most insufferable of dwarves; Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain. Mithrandir believes that this will be a good experience for him as it is for us, but he refuses to come himself. He's all but forcing the situation."

You looked from Blue-Eyes to Lindir and back. "How can he force you? Dwarves and Elves are both stubborn beyond all reason, and none of you seem to take him seriously."

Legolas shook his head and pursed his lips. "Unfortunately, Dwalin is as good a tracker as any, and Ada  is not permitting many of the Sindar on this journey for the reason that we are merely meant to find where the yrch dwell, and go no further. We will need all the aide we can find, even if it is in the form of unwilling dwarves. As for them, he has promised treasure, the details of which I know not; I can only hope it is not any of ours he has promised them." He smiled at you. "Shall we?"

Before you could follow, he walked off; you glanced to Lindir questioningly. "...Ada? Who's that?"

Lindir smiled softly. "It means father. He is referring to King Thranduil."

"Oh. Now I feel stupid."

"Do not, mellon, for the language of the Elves is not easily learned unless you were born speaking the tongue."

With a roll of your shoulders, which ached, you followed Leggy.

***

"Ow, goddamn it, and goddamn you, you stupidly perfect Elf."

At the end of the day, you'd been cut, pricked, whipped by a bowstring, nicked, dinged, and all kinds of other small injuries that added up to one big mess of drying blood and bruises.

Blue-Eyes had had you train deep into the night, until the silvery waning moon had all but left the star-filled sky. Now, as the sunrise approached, you both sat on two convenient boulders, and he bandaged your bloodied hands. In the eerie half-dawn light, he looked ethereal, and his pale hands and silver tunic sleeves compared to your now dark-with-blood-and-mud-and-bruises hands and black sleeves was a huge contrast. Your hands shook slightly, aching and stinging and pained on various sorts of levels, while his were perfectly steady as he wrapped them in soft green leaves.

"Stop shaking, mellon," Legolas told you gently.

"What was that?" Your head snapped up. "Are you feeling sorry for me? Don't feel sorry for me! This is nothing! I've been shot in the calf by an orcish arr--OW!"

The leaves had drawn too tight and released some kind of juice that stung like hell. His hands hovered over yours. "My apologies, but it draws out the infection."

"What infection?!"

"You are not yet used to your Elven body yet," Blue-Eyes replied, looking into your eyes. "Since you are the equivalent of a newborn, I would say you are very susceptible to infections, sickness, and injuries."

You looked off dramatically into the distance. "That explains why I can't stop fucking getting hurt..."

"That it does," He smiled at you, and something pulsed in your chest. Da fuck... You fought a flush. He stood, then held out his hand to you. "Shall we return to the palace? You may rest until sunhigh, and then we will continue your training." You took his hand, and he helped you up; you stumbled into his chest, and backed up quickly. He took no notice, but patted your shoulder before going to retrieve his bow and quiver. "You did well today, Sairen, even if you frightened off half of the other Sindar and Silvan training here."

You made a face. "Pfft. They just can't handle my awesomeness."

"If you say so, mellon," He said, and started to take the easy way back, to your relief. You followed closely behind him.

You looked up at the stars as you walked in silence for awhile, until finally, you broke it. Of course, you broke anything, really... "Where I come from, they say there's a star for every soul that's passed away."

Legolas glanced to you, then followed your gaze wistfully. "That is something our two worlds have in common."

"Scientifically," You added, "They're spheres of hot air and gaseous materials wound up tight by gravity that glow and put off heat, but the idea always felt nice to me... But where I come from... You also can't see the stars."

Blue-Eyes halted in his tracks as if you'd just said someone murdered his mother. "I... What? You can't see the stars?!" He actually looked genuinely horrified by that idea.

You shook your head. "No. Humans... They've polluted the atmosphere too much. Filled it with trash, and man-made lights and even remnants of smoke... You can't see them."

He watched you even as you watched the stars. "I've never seen them like this... They're beautiful." You could see bands of galaxies and clouds of distant nebulae, and the small silver fires glittered in the billions, even as the pink-orange glow of the beginning of dawn was starting to show in the east. You were in awe.

You jumped when Legolas took your hand. "What?"

He smiled at you. "Come with me. I will show you one of the best stargazing places in all of Mirkwood."

"Thranduil's pavilion?"

"Better."

"Whoa. Dude, count me in."

He lead you off of the trail, deep into the woods, through the easiest ways that probably were a pain for him, but he did it anyway. Finally, you stopped at the base of a massive tree, stretching so far up you couldn't see its top. Its trunk was pockmarked with holes and vines, and after slinging his bow onto his back, he threw you a smile over his smile. "Come, Sairen."

You couldn't help but smile back. You climbed, quickly, all the way up, past the canopy, into the uppermost branches of the tree, where the copper-gold leaves thinned out to allow for one thick branch to get a view of the night sky. The branch was thick enough across to allow for two or three people to sit side-by-side against the trunk, and Blue-Eyes sat quickly as he helped you up.

Here, no branches obscured any part of your field of view. You got a perfect view of the sunrise, and the starry sky. "Holy shit..."

You felt him put an arm around you, and you stiffened, just before he breathed in your ear, "I will not let you fall from this tree, Sairen. You've only just arrived in this world, and should another portal be below that is activated by a beautiful sunrise, I am loathe to let you go, for there is so much I want to show you..." The sun burst over the distant mountains beyond Erebor, sending fiery orange and red across the sky. "Such as this. Your world does not sound as if it could have any sunrise as wonderful as this one."

A warm feeling blossomed in your chest as you watched the sunrise, jaw slack. "No... Not like this."

Legolas smiled, and finally turned his focus to it himself. Your eyes slowly dragged off of the beautiful scenery to look at the Elf beside you, and the warm feeling worsened; your heart started fluttering. Eldar only fall in love once... Galadriel had warned you.

...Shit.

A blush crawled up your face, and you tried your hardest to focus on the sky rather than the Elvish princeling pressed close against your side.

***

"Mae govannen, [Y/N] of the Woodland Realm," Greeted Lindir kindly as you approached the group of Elves gathering in front of the front gates.

"Mae govannen, Lindir of Rivendell," You replied with a smile. The Elvish greetings rolled off your tongue easily now. After the sunrise you and Blue-Eyes had watched together, you'd spent the last two days training at obscene hours and resting. Now, finally, the group of Elves leaving to track the orcs were gathering-- there were only about fifty in total, of which there were those wearing Woodland garments, the red-and-gold of Lothlorien, and the greens, purples, and browns of Rivendell. Apparently Galadriel, Celeborn, and Elrond didn't agree with Thranduil sending what would've only been a dozen to track some very dangerous orcs.

You heard several of them muttering to each other about Naughrim, something all of them had in common.

You swung your light traveling pack off of your shoulders and by your feet, scanning the crowd for a certain platinum-blonde head-- unfortunately, most of the Elves from Lothlorien had blonde hair. You looked at Lindir. "Where's Legolas?"

Lindir glanced around. "He is on his way, I am sure. After all, it is he and Haldir whom are leading this journey."

You nodded. "I've never packed for something like this before... I hope I didn't pack anything weird or forget something."

Lindir looked confused, then recognition flashed across his face. "Oh. Forgive me, I had forgotten you do not have this experience. Tell me, what did you pack?"

You shifted your weight nervously, and lowered your voice. "Uhh... Two extra pairs of clothes in case these get ruined, some extra food, even though I've noticed I don't have to eat as much as before, and some water. Then there's these," You gestured to your back, where a quiver and longbow hung from your back. You felt its weight all too strongly, and that of the sword on your hip and the knives on your thighs. "And some of those special leaves that're used for bandages."

Lindir smiled and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Mellon, you have packed what we all have, and lightly, as well."

You smiled. "Thanks. Just consider yourself lucky that I don't know how to read Elvish, or I would've packed a book or two to keep me company."

Lindir chuckled and stepped back. "Well, for now, I am glad of it. On this journey you will learn much, hopefully, and by the time we return, you may be able to speak more of Elvish. It is harder to learn to read it, I have heard, much harder."

You ran a finger over your chin in thought. "I wonder if Thranduil would let me go to Dale or Laketown to get some books in English..."

"Forgive me," Lindir looked confused. "I do not know what that is."

You realized what you'd said a second too late. "Oh! Sorry. Where I come from, Common is just referred to as English."

"Oh, I see now. I am sure he would, and if he does not yet, then perhaps one of the Woodland Elves could bring some back for you. What of Legolas? Are you not friends?"

You blushed. "Yeah, I hope so. I've never been very good at making friends, though. Nobody's ever really liked me." You realized Lindir was staring at you with an absolutely terrified expression. Your own eyes widened in alarm, and you frantically patted your face. "What?! Is there something on my face?!"

Lindir shook his head. "I-I am not sure. Your skin has suddenly gone red, as if burned. Are you ill?"

"Uhhh..."

You were spared the embarrassment of explaining blushing by all the Elves gathered suddenly gasping and bowing in the direction of the stairs. Lindir saw the cause before you did, and his jaw fell. "By all the Valar..." He bowed deeply, and you followed his motion, but not before catching a glimpse of who it was. Thranduil, of course, and Legolas, following a she-Elf in a tunic that looked as if it were made of starlight itself, with flowing white hair and alabaster skin.

"Ui!" Shouted Thranduil irritably. "Ni telima lume, autauva!"

You leaned closer to Lindir. "What did he say?"

"He is forbidding her to join us," He answered quickly.

The she-Elf whipped around, generating a power almost as strong as Galadriel's. Legolas stepped forward. "Amal... Mecin."

She shook her head. "Yon, venno, nin carindo ier nin indo. Alye uva pusta ni."

"What did she say about pasta?" You whispered.

"Sh!" Lindir said quickly.

The woman looked at Thranduil and Legolas lovingly, before approaching Thranduil and placing both hands on his face. Thranduil closed his eyes in regret, and the woman kissed him; you looked away, embarrassed. That was the Elvenqueen.

That was Legolas's mother.

"Melinyel, Thranduil, alye ista si."

Thranduil sighed. "Melinyel, mela... Mecin ea girthonwed."

With that, Legolas reluctantly took his mother's hand and lead her down the stairs. They disappeared in the crowd, until you heard the Elvenqueen's voice. "Rise, all of you." Unsure, the Elves rose one-by-one. "Which of you hail from far places, whom rescued my son Legolas Greenleaf from the fate of an early death?"

The Eldar glanced to one another, realized it wasn't their neighbor, and slowly, like somebody who'd gotten called out in class, you were being stared at, and a path was made between you and her majesty, while Legolas stood beside her.

You swallowed hard, suddenly terrified. Lindir patted your shoulder. "You have been summoned, mellon. Go, I will make sure your pack does not get swapped with someone else's."

You tried to look and walk confidently, but you were terrified. She was beautiful and indimidating, and you had to admit, you were definitely intimidated. When you reached her, you bowed as deeply and respectfully as you could, a fist over your heart. "Elen sila lumenn omentielvo, your majesty." You didn't know what else to say. What you'd said to Galadriel and Celeborn was the most respectful thing you knew in Elvish, and you'd never been in the presence of royalty.

"You come from another world," She looked down at you indifferently, and you suddenly felt very small and very weak with everybody's eyes on you. This was nothing like Thranduil's fabulously indifferent look. "Yet still, you saved my son's life. After, you make the presumption that you can live and walk among us as one of us, freely, unburdened, merely because you came here by happenstance and you were allowed the reward of living. Do you feel as if this is the correct course of action for you to take?"

You glanced to Legolas, absolutely horrified. "Y-your majesty..." Your hot-headed tongue, a lot more toned down, popped into existence. "I saved your son's life because he didn't deserve to die. I was given the freedom to live, and to repay that, I mean to make the most of my time here by helping in whatever ways that I can. King Thranduil has given me the chance to prove myself worthy of living here by allowing me to join in hunting for the orcs. If I fail, I will leave Mirkwood, and go with Lord Elrond to Rivendell."

Legolas's eyes widened a fraction of an inch, before going back to their normal selves; he looked to you with almost a sadness, but you couldn't figure out why. Elvenqueen smiled, as if proud. "Then you are not what the rumours of your world have made you out to be. You are humble and grateful, qualities I did not expect from one of this Earth. You possess a unique personality, [Y/N]. Tell me, who are your parents, so that I may refer to you properly?"

"I have no father," You said quickly, relieved that she was just trying to scare you. "None I care to speak about. But I do have a mother, who I love very much. Her name is [M/N]."

Elvenqueen smiled. "Very well, [Y/N], child of [M/N]. Here, we, all of us, have a secondary name, such as my son; Legolas Greenleaf. During this journey, you may earn your own."

You smiled back, relieved beyond relief that she'd decided not to kick your ass for existing. "My thanks, your majesty."

She sailed away regally, and Legolas shot you a glare. "Why did you not tell me you would be leaving us?" He demanded.

You balked. "I-I said if I failed..."

"And you are most likely to do so," He snapped, sending your heart and soul plummeting to roughly the center of Middle-Earth. Without another word, he followed his mother.

"Mellon?" Said Lindir from behind. You turned around; He held his bag and yours, which you gratefully took from him.

"Thanks," You said, but your eyes followed Legolas's back as he disappeared into the crowd.

"Is everything alright?"

"Just fine," You shrugged. You were used to being abandoned.

Lindir looked doubtful. "Very well, if you say so. May I introduce you to those you will be most judged by?"

"Sure."

He took you through the crowd, to the guy who helped you find the councilroom. "Ah, [Y/N]. Mae govannen."

You bowed your head and returned the greeting to Elros in a monotone voice. "So your name is Elros?"

"Yes," He replied. "Son of Elrond."

If you were taking a drink of water, you'd've spewed it everywhere. "Huh? But isn't Rivdendell like, waaay over the Misty Mountains?"

Elros chuckled. "Yes, but those of the Eldar cannot always remain in one place. We yearn for far places, and even farther shores. Long years I have spent in the halls of my father, but I left for Mirkwood when my sister, Arwen Evenstar, left for Lothlorien, to spend a time with our mother's mother, Galadriel."

Your eyes were wide. "Galadriel is a grandma?! Your grandma?!"

Lindir and Elros looked at each other in amusement. "Elves," Said Lindir, "Live forever, so long as we are not killed by injury, or the wounds of the heart."

"Wounds of the heart?" You echoed.

"When love remains unrequited, it is sometimes too much to bear," Replied Elros, "And the victim suffers long before dying of a broken heart. Oftentimes, it is when a wife perishes during childbirth, or when war or battle takes the life of a beloved, and their souls pass into the Halls of Mandos. I still worry for my father, even though my mother has long since passed due to child-sickness."

Your eyes widened. "I'm so sorry."

Elros raised a hand. "She is at peace now. She resides in the halls where her mother lives, and many of my kin who have long since passed on."

"Is Elrond gonna be okay?" Now you were worried. You didn't even know the guy (Even though you probably knew him before your amnesia.) but you didn't want him to die of heartbreak. He was being nice to you, and offering you a place to live if Thranduil decided to be more of an ass.

"He is strong," Lindir assured you, and partially Elros. "He is stout of heart and fierce of soul. He will live long yet, that I can assure you with the utmost certainty."

Together, Lindir and Elros took you to where another dark-haired Elf in the Rivendell attire spoke with a Lothlorien Elf in red-and-gold armor. White hair was braided away from his stern face. Elros said something in Elvish, getting their attention, and they both bowed to you. "[Y/N], child of [M/N], may I introduce you to Erestor, Chief Counselman of Elrond, and Haldir of Lothlorien."

"Mae govannen," They both said.

Haldir regarded you warily. "I have heard you come from far lands, one beyond even Arda."

You tried not to look stupid. "Arda?"

"This world upon which we live," Haldir clarified.

"Oh!" Now you knew what they were talking about. "You mean this whole planet? Mine never had a cool name; Earth, that's it, with a bunch of different countries on it. Are there countries besides Middle-Earth here?"

Erestor chuckled. "Yes. There is Beleriand, just the remains of it, to the farthest west. Also in the west lie the Gray Havens, and across the Sea are the Undying Lands of Aman, far from Endor-- that is to say, collectively, Middle-Earth and Beleriand."

"Oh, cool! Where I come from, nowhere has cool names anymore, except for maybe Dubai, Greece, and Rome. In the past, there were hardly ever cool places, except for Egypt and Babylon."

The four Elves around you glanced to each other in amusement, as if you were a child just learning new things; and you pretty much were...

"Haldir," Said a familiar voice, and you perked up as Blue-Eyes stepped through the crowd. Your heart sank as he completely avoided your gaze. Damn, you should be used to this kinda shit by now. One small thing and someone abandons you. "We go to meet the dwarves. You have told your party, yes?"

"Of course, mellon."

"As have I," Added Erestor as Blue-Eyes went to ask. "None of us may like this, but it the word of a Maiar, of which the Noldor still yet revere. Worry not, Legolas."

Blue-Eyes nodded, glanced to you, and walked back through the suddenly-departing crowd as the doors opened. You hefted up your bag further onto your shoulder. "Mmkay, Lindir?" You fell into step with the purple-clad Elf.

"What is it?"

"Questions. Lots of them. What the hell is a Mayan and a No-door?"

Lindir chuckled. "Maiar, and Noldor. The Noldor are the oldest of the Elves. The Maiar are wizards, servants of the Valar; such as Saruman, Mithrandir, and Radagast."

"They met gods?"

"Yes," Said Lindir doubtfully, eyeing you. "Do the people of your world not know of their gods?"

You scoffed dryly. "You kidding me? Almost everybody believes in some bearded guy in white floating through existence and pointing to a random spot, then saying 'Let there be light!' Bam, universe created. Others have much more gruesome stories; like in Norse, Odin and his two brothers cut up a giant to create the world. Then there was Egyptian, where two godly people representing the earth and sky consummated and BAM, universe created again. They all say the gods came from the sky, which others believe to be aliens-- people from other planets entirely-- but I've always been an atheist."

"And what does that mean?"

"That I don't believe a goddamn word of any of that 'god' shit."

"You should not speak of them so, for they hear all."

"Yuck. Let's hope they don't find somebody on their wedding night."

Lindir's eyes bugged out of his head. "That was... Sudden."

You grinned. "I'm like that. Get used to it, Lindy."

He frowned. "My name is Lindir."

"I know that," You laughed. "It's a nickname. It's a sign of friendship."

Lindir smiled. "Oh. Then we are friends, then?"

"Sure! I've never been friends with so many people before!" You looked ahead excitedly, waving when you seen Legolas glaring at you. So what if he was pissed? You'd make him un-pissed.

Lindir gave you a sad look. "But you have only befriended Legolas and myself."

"And Tauriel."

"Still, that is only three people." He looked genuinely confused. "Do the people of your world not believe in friendship either?"

You sighed. "Not really. They're more interested in betrayal. Me, personally, I've had it all. Betrayal, death, abandonment... I've gone through some shitty times, that's for sure. One catastrophe after the next. One painful step at a time through it. I've been through hell and back, been shattered like glass and looked death in the eye, and somehow, I'm still standing. Sometimes it feels like I've lived a thousand lifetimes in only nineteen years." You gave him a sideways smile before looking back ahead of you, trying to block all of the flashbacks...

Lindir regarded you with newfound admiration. "I can... See it, in your eyes. I believe all of us can. The things that you have endured are marked on your stride, and not many could recover from what you have recently gone through so quickly. A human with your strength is... Unheard of."

You laughed. "Yeah, 'cause now I'm an Elf!"

Lindir laughed too then, as did a few other Elves and she-Elves near to you-- as you walked out of the doors of Mirkwood's palace, you got this strange, tingly sensation in your core... The odd feeling of people laughing with you, not at you. The feeling of not being judged. Of people realizing you've been through hell. Of people not automatically striking you onto their enemy list because you're different.

As you moved into the north, the light filtering through the leaves was golden, and everything seemed at once surreal and ethereal. But aside from those two feelings, you felt one stronger than any other. You smiled as you looked around at your new friends in this new world, which still felt so familiar. You were happier than you'd ever been. Even though you'd miss your family, you were glad the portal had been closed.

And there are many paths to tread...

Through shadow, to the edge of night...

Until the stars are all alight...

You passed Blue-Eyes, who'd climbed a tree to scout, and when he seen your awestruck, childlike expression, even he, who was currently pissed at you, couldn't help but smile at down at you. You smiled back. That warm feeling returned.

Finally, I'm where I belong.

I'm...

I’m...home.

Tag List: @tesserphantom​ @thedragonghostofmordor​ @hauntedsiriel​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​ @naryamirie​ @legolasdeserveslove​ @escapingthoughtsandsecrets​ @sagabriar​ @brushwood-souls​ @taurlel​

If anybody wants to be tagged, just let me know!

Extra Notes: Elvish is SO FUCKING HARD. And yes I put the Elvenqueen in this. And dwarves are inbound. Don't guess the plotline, just DON'T.

Fun Facts: In Old Nordic mythology, there was a forest known as Mirkwood. There was also a dwarf called Durin, who created the line of the most power dwarfs, some of which, just to name a few, were Thorin, Fili, Kili, Dvalin, Balin, Oin, Oakenshield, and Gandalf. There were also many types of Elves-- Ljosalfar were the Light Elves, and Dokkalfar were the Dark Elves. In general, Elves were known as Alfar, and they lived in Alfheimr, "The Land of the Elves." Supposedly, Alfheimr had shining trees of silver and gold, like Lothlorien. Also, there was a dragon called Fafnir, a cursed fire-drake, coppery-red, who laid atop a mound of gold and guarded his wrongfully-taken treasure with his life. The original owner of this treasure was a dwarf, reduced to a husk of his former self, called Andvari, who, out of all of this treasure, loved most a golden ring, inscribed with runes. He cursed this ring, so that all who wore it would soon come into misfortune...

[eerythingisshaka]

Will the Bell Ring? Pt. 6

[Erik Killmonger x Black!OC]

Word Count:  6.7K

A/N:  I am now inspired to write again because a tweet said that Disney+ had hella issues on the date it dropped and 10 million people still stuck around to watch it.  I’m taking that same energy with me.

“Mara, I won’t ask you again.”  Erik says sternly.  Kimara looks around casually, glad that they are at least located in a public place...though he still doesn’t seem to care.

“MARA!”  Erik barks.

“Don’t cause a scene!  Damn, you have absolutely no common sense!”  She hisses as an elderly white couple looks away and walks faster down the path.  A breeze starts to pick up in the air, causing the treetops to dance in the distance.

“Really?  All I got is common sense when I hear you tryna pull a fast one on me.  And to bring someone I respect in on this, that’s fuckin low!”

Kimara adjusts her seating on the bench as the metal digs into you thigh meat.  “Respect??  Oh please, you were just knocking him on some petty shit last week!  And I didn’t mean to!  Ok?  I’m sorry!”

“For what?  I need specifics, lay out the entire situation for all the other nosy white folks walkin round the park today.  They wanna see someone act a fool, I’ll give it to them if you keep pussy footin around.”  Erik leans back on the bench, spreading his chest wide with pride as he stares her down.  She can’t stand him.

Kimara lets out a sigh, laying one hand on his inner thigh for extra focus.  “I am sorry...for putting you through so much pain and agony.  I know how much the relationship means to and I shouldn’t have put it in danger by getting myself involved without talking to you first.  And even then, I should’ve known better.  I couldn’t even enjoy it without thinking about you and what you would think.  So...never again.  I promise.”

Erik scratches his chin, bouncing his leg before dipping his head down to look at Kimara over his fake gold rimmed eyeglasses with matronly contempt.  “Long as you learnt never to watch Euphoria without me, we good.”

Kimara squeezes his leg, letting out a huge sigh of relief.  “Thank God.  You really bout to cut me over Fez and Rue huh?”

Erik sits up, clapping his hands together.  “They are the true OTP if I ever seen one.  They ain’t even gotta be intimate or whatever, just the fact that someone been through her journey and is now doing everything to help clean her up while the forces of small white town bullshit enable her is...poetry dawg.”  Erik leans back shaking his head in awe.

“Babe, you are sappier than a maple tree in the summertime.”  Kimara shakes her head, the loveliness of their conversation filling her head like a delicious fog she didn’t want to ever see the end of, but Erik’s lunch break was almost up.

Erik kisses her softly, making Kimara wipe the transfer of her gloss off his lips.  

“Uh uh!  Don’t worry bout all that baby.  If that shit makes your lips as good as I like, I could use some too.”

“You so stupid!”  Kimara cackles as they both get off their bench and walk side by side: his hand on her hip, her arms locked around his waist with one ear to his chest.

“This was nice.”  Erik says distantly, more to himself than to her.

Kimara cranes her face toward his.  “Yeah?”

He nods.  “Yeah, just to not think about any of the bullshit we’ve had to deal with, enjoy God’s creations out here in the gentrified park.  I feel like a damn retiree with stock and bonds and 401K real fat.”

Kimara settles in step with him again.  “But you have all those things…”

“But I ain’t retired!  White America don’t want a nigga to retire.  Swear everything would go belly up if Black folks could live off of the fruits meant for them.  They’d burn the whole damn thing down before that would happen.”

Kimara rubs his back to settle him.  “Peaceful thoughts, remember?”

Erik’s chest expands and caves.  “Aight.  But real life is literally around the corner, so as much as I would like to have you in my office, I got shit to take care of.”  Erik takes her chin and lifts her face up to his.  “My Mara, My Mara…”

“...I’ll never be farther.”  Kimara says with only slight embarrassment beause their little saying is so damn cute.  Erik used to do cute rhymes with her name around the quad whenever she got down on herself or he thought he had her on the ropes to giving in to him.  Rarely worked, but constantly appreciated.   “I gotta go get some extra stuff for our dinner party later this week, so hopefully I won’t be too long at the studio.  We got a new artist laying down a demo that should be pretty fire.”

Erik puts a fist to his mouth excitedly.  “Oh worm?  Finally my lady finna be the new M-M-M-Maybach Music!”

Kimara rolls her eyes.  “I’ll be more than that!  I got about two songs on there I’m getting writing credit for.  I may wind up on the radio and you don’t even know it.  But you’ll know them checks!”

Erik couldn’t smile harder if he had hooks in his mouth.  “Your passion got you going off!  Nothing wrong with it either, you deserve it.   It’s been a long time coming.”

“It has.  So, go on so I can make this deal happen.”

They locked fingers until distance forced them to break their grip.  Erik waves  off Kimara as she saunters up the path to the main road.  His chest swelled with pride over his lady, she’s always been one of a kind.  Her happiness is his happiness, without question.  As he walked away, across the exquisitely decorated post modern/art deco lobby, to the elevator to the 33rd floor to his office, a cloud of dread weighed back on him that only got better with the help of Alaina.  If she wasn’t his partner on this revamp project with Boeing, he’d be shitting himself on a regular.

Erik walks by a conference room, stopping short of turning the corner of the glass walls.  He opens the door and peeks inside to see his friend hunched over a laptop, jumping slightly in her seat as he came across the room towards her.

“Damn, Erik!  Why do your big ass feet step so lightly?  Almost gave me a heart attack!”  She breathed out a ragged sigh of relief.

Erik pulls out a chair to sit down, chuckling at her expense.  “My bad,  I just had to come in when I seen you slaving away in here.  Figured you could use a distraction.”

Alaina smooths her hair back in her bun, her nude colored mouth in a tight, closed smile.

“I WISH you were a distraction for me, but unfortunately this involves the both of us.  While you were on break, Asshole and Son recommend we draft a final proposal for the FAA to approve.”

Erik sat shocked.  “What? Fuck, I mean that’s fucking crazy but kind of exciting too, right?”

She wags her finger.  “Don’t forget we are only the field niggas round here.  It sounds like an honor but in the end I am sure little Leave it to Beaver will be taking all the credit his daddy can send his way in order to keep the big wigs in good graces within the family.”

Erik taps his fingers on the deep wooden table, thinking.  Would they really double cross him that far?  Bringing him in on a project to mentor the bosses son only to pull the rug up under him and make him look like player two?

“That’s so damn white, sounds right.”  Erik sighs in somewhat disbelief.

Alaina shrugs.  “Told you.  And until I hear it from him otherwise, that’s what I’m going to assume.”  Alaina sighs and stretches her shoulders before going back in on the keyboard.  

Erik furrows his brow.  “If that’s it, then why are you still working on it?  Don’t you wanna pack up and move on?  You were brought here special for this, your time is wasted the most.”

Alaina’s eyes cast a ‘nigga please’ gaze on Erik.  “Mr. Future Baby Fava, I think our time has been equally wasted.  But guess what isn’t cut for my time here?  My pay: which is double what I make at my primary while I’m here so…”  She slowly leans over to grab Erik’s wrist.  “...until I hear the fat white man sing, we’re gonna work on this project for as long as we can to milk that cow til it lays a golden goose egg and rolls the tortoise to the finish line!”

Erik scoffs.  Alaina’s antics are half the reason Erik can’t quite distance himself from her.  She has a liveliness that he’s kind of missed lately.  “Man, you a trip and a fifth.  But I like your style. Might as well get it done then.”

“Oh fuck that, I’m done for the day.”   Alaina crisply closes her laptop, packin it under her arm and grabbing her case with the other.

“Whatchu mean?  I thought you said-”

“I worked through my lunch, like a boss ass bitch does.  You gotta work yours off, so Imma leave you to it.  Call me if you bleeding out your ears from stress: no less than that.”

Erik rolls his eyes as he gets up and watches her walk away.  The woman is working his last good nerve on purpose, but he likes it.  The job isn’t as boring or predictable with her around.  Now he just has to show her who the superstar has been all this time.  If he works hard at this, it won’t be for these fat cats, it’s gonna be a bonafide competition and he ain’t scared to fight a girl.

—

At the studio, Kimara finishes up a session with a local up and coming artist named Delilah.  Sweet girl, comes across very introverted until a mic is in front of her.  Kimara appreciated her vibes and talent, baby girl is on trend so long as she stays cute she is bound to be noticed.  Kimara ends their session a little early, wishing her well when it was time to wrap.  

Kimara felt like the studio was her second home most of the time but today she had to get to her real home REAL quick to get dinner prepared.  Tonight is the double dinner date with T’Challa and his boo of the moment.  She kept trying to get ahold of Erik for help with ingredients but he kept leaving her on read.

Rick, the studio owner caught Kimara before she was able to get out the door.

“Hey Rick  I know I cut things early, but I don’t have a lot of time unfortunately.  I have dinner to take care of tonight with some friends that is so damn important, you wouldn’t believe.”

Rick smiles a large proud papa smile.  “Oh I won’t keep you, but this news might.  Remember Peter Gafflin?  Legendary alternative rock/country artist extraordinaire who really love you last time y’all were in the booth together.”

Kimara couldn’t forget that man from their last session.  She hadn’t been exalted for her talent that highly since Petey Pablo came in that one time and promised her name would be on a Freek A Leek remix.

“Yeah, what about him?” She asks.

Rick could not help his smile to save his life.  “He called me up earlier today, saying he is planning to go on the road soon.”

“Yeah, yeah.  That happens often when you drop a new album.”  Kimara says impatiently.

“Right.  So he was thinking that you would hopefully be available to join him for some shows on his North American leg of the tour.”

Kimara stood there like the Men In Black just wiped her memory.  “Are-are you serious?  When?  How?  What would I do??”

“He wants you to SING for him like you did that day, background vocals and he thought a duet portion would be nice too.  You know the song ‘Boys Aren’t Born on Tuesdays?’”

Kimara clutches her chest.  “Oh my God, that song is so rich.  And he wants ME  to sing it with him?”

“Uh huh!’  Rick slaps her arm in congratulations, but Kimara could barely feel anymore.  

“In front of thousands.  Across America...oh my God!”

Rick and Kimara hug excitedly, so much so that Rick has to wipe his eyes a little.  “So is that a yes?”

Kimara stopped cheering to finally think a little.  “I mean, I don’t know.  If this was any other time I would say yes, but...I have some obligation here.  I’m deep into trying to start a family and settle a little.”

Rick makes a face of pity.  “I understand, I know.  And I hope you do get that.  Just…”

“Just…”   Kimara parrots.

“...it’s Peter Gafflin.”

“It is Peter Gafflin.”  Kimara says disheartened.  She had been waiting for years to get something off the ground with a top tier artist, but the universe had a funny way of timing.

“Did I mention how much pay is?”  Rick muses.

--

Kimara fans herself with a newspaper as she watches the rolls baking in the oven.  She is so thankful to have gotten dessert from the bakery, because she was over it with cooking.  She checks her phone for the time:  ten minutes til 7.  Her notifications show nothing from Erik yet, though she texted him twice today reminding his to not forget them hosting T’Challa and his girl.  Twice, Erik texted that he’s got her, but that was five hours ago, now who knows what the hell he is up to.  It would be perfect to bring up her good news with him in front of T’Challa and his date, while he smiles up at her with a hand inconspicuous and possessively on her behind...

But the light and fluffy feelings for the evening were quickly dwindling.  Before she could send a last threatening text to convince him to bring his ass, the doorbell sounds at the last sentence.  Kimara curses out loud, grabbing her oven mitt to take out the rolls that are a perfect golden brown.  She dabs her brow with a spare dinner napkin before clopping her way to the door.

Opening it with a flourish, Kimara opens her arms in excitement.  

“You made it!”  She says with a cheery song.

T’Challa looks at her fondly, his mouth slowly curling into a smile.  Kimara warms up to seeing her friend at her doorway.

“I was going to say it has been too long, but time moves backward for you.  You look beautiful.”

Kimara places a hand on her hip for emphasis, trying to withhold her joy in his compliment in the worst way.  “Oh please, it hasn’t been that long.  You cleaned up good too.”

Kimara always enjoyed the way T’Challa dresses like royalty without even meaning too, choosing pieces that elongate his lean body, squaring his wide shoulders to create a proud presence.

T’Challa places a hand to his date’s lower back.  “Iman has been looking forward to this night all week.”

A smiling Iman holds out a bottle of Proseco.  “T  has told me so much about you and your husband.  You all seem to be a pretty tight family.”

Kimara takes the chilled bottle and leads them inside.  “Oh yes.  We have all known each other for so long, I can’t imagine not having known them.”  

Placing the bottle on the table, Kimara claps her hands anxiously.  “So I have prepared us a nice little salad and a pork...uh...pasta ”  Kimara’s mind goes blank trying to remember what it’s called, she had only Googled the recipe that day.  Tapping her foot, fidgeting, Kimara gives up.  “Hell, some type of pork and spaghetti with peppers and shit.  It’s got cheese too, it’s good.  LEGGO!”

T’Challa and Iman chuckle as they head to the dining room.  “Well whatever it is it smells great!  I know your man must be fat and happy living with you.”  Iman gushes, pulling out her chair to sit at the table.

Kimara shakes her head humbly as the unwraps the foil on the proseco.  “Lucky for me, he is pretty active at the same time so it sticks in the right places.  If only he could actually BE in the right places when we schedule things that way.  Oh shit, lemme find a cork opener.”  

Kimara rushes into the kitchen slamming drawer after drawer looking for the elusive corkscrew.  She slams the bottle down a little too hard in frustration and hears the vibration of her phone on the counter next to her.

“Do you need assistance, Kimara?”  T’Challa’s steady, gentle voice says behind her.  She turns to see his concerned face looking down at her, hands firmly planted behind him respectfully.  

Kimara waves her hand in frustration.  “Aht aht!  It’s fine, don’t leave Iman alone in there!”

“She is fine.  Are you?”  He asks quietly while opening a cabinet above the sink.  

Kimara opens her phone to look at her notification.  “Been better.  Rather not talk while I’m supposed to be entertaining you guys.”

“But-”

Kimara puts her phone down hard.  “RAGU!  It was a pork ragu!  With basil fettuccine, ugh!  DUH!”  Kimara turns to see T’Challa holding the corkscrew in his hand.  

T’Challa continues, ignoring her topic change.  “You should let me know if he isn’t being good to you.”

Kimara takes the corkscrew in one hand, bottle in the other trying to maintain her blood from boiling.  “No I don’t.  I would discuss that with my husband.”  

“And he is where?”  T’Challa asks calmly as Kimara walks past him and back to the table.

“God, what a help your beau is, we can finally have a much needed sip sip, eh?”  Kimara exclaims a little too happily, sitting at the table as she drills the corkscrew in.

T’Challa opens the glass serving dish to examine dinner.  “This smells very good, I will fix a plate for you, Iman.”

“No!  I should serve you, Mr. King!  Move your hand from that spoon.”  Iman gets up, swinging her hips happily from side to side, digging the serving spoon into the delicious mix of sauce, noodles, and meat.  

T’Challa gives a shy smile.  “I appreciate it greatly, thank you.”  

Kimara jerks the corkscrew out of the bottle too hard, knocking the handle against the table, causing T’Challa and Iman to look at her with shock.

“Pop goes the weasel, right?”  Kimara giggles as she pours a third of the bottle into her glass, half an inch from the brim.  She takes ahold of her glass, taking  a few hearty gulps.

“So!  Tell me how are things with you all, still in the honeymoon phase?”

Iman finishes off her plate, settling in to eat.  “Well,  I wouldn’t say that.  Me and T are still kinda getting to know each other still, so I think honeymoon phase is a little too soon to call,”  she says as she nervously scratches the back of her head as T’Challa just keeps on eating.

Kimara starts to feel warm, keeping mental note that the fucking must’ve halted between them.  “Well there’s no need to rush at all.  Relationships are so much damn work, it must be nice to cuddle up to a stranger every so often.”

Iman offers some wine to T’Challa who declines.  “Have things been going well at the studio?  Recording?”

“Oh yeah, more than recording actually.  Sure, I just wish that I had the gumption to pull the trigger on doing some of my own shit.  I got a lot of praise from artist and even the owner of the studio; I’ve known him a long time.  But when it all comes down to it I just wonder what’s the point.  That’s all gonna change soon though, no worries about me!”

Iman pouts with sympathy.  “What do you mean?!  You are a damn good looking lady and to have talent enough that people brag about, you gotta do something with it while you’re young and able!”

“I know I’m young and able.  Well, I’m trying to start a family while I’m still young and able too.”  Kimara mumbles, slumping in her chair.

“Oh!  You are?  Congratulations!  From what little I remember from the night I met T, he seemed like a handsome guy with a good head on him.  If he hadn’t brought us home, we may not be seeing each other now.”  Iman’s hand disappear under the table to presumably T’Challa’s thigh, who looks over at her with kind eyes.  “And that reminds me of your story.  So T here got you and your husband together.  What are the details on that?”

Kimara is two sips from the bottom of her glass.  “Ohhh, that’s not dinner conversation unfortunately.”

Iman makes eyes at her.  “Oooh, that scandalous huh?  We all adults here, but I understand.  Me and T weren’t very biblical our first night meeting so, hey.”

T’Challa wags a finger.  “It’s not that, don’t be crass.”

Iman tuts at him.  “I’m just being friendly, what’s the issue.”

“It’s a personal story.  It should wait until Erik is here at least.”  T’Challa offers.

Kimara puts her glass down, plate still empty or any dinner.  “I don’t wanna bring that nigga up here anymore tonight, aight?”

Iman freezes mid bite as T’Challa sits up in his chair.  “Kimara, please-”

“Uh uh!  I’m in my house, I say what I want, I won’t be talked down to.  Iman?”

Iman is still frozen.

T’Challa speaks up.  “I’m just saying-”

“I’m talking!  Iman?  My husband and I have been trying to have a baby for months now, fucking like rabbits and I have yet to get pregnant.  It’s gotten so I think he;s getting tired of fucking with me and now he is out ‘working late’.  Now, he loves me because we have been through a lot to get to the point of being a married couple and he has had to prove himself loyal to me after...a lot of bullshit.  But I ain’t got it in me to discuss play the Newlywed Game with you cuz hell if I know what my husband is up to anymore.”

T’Challa gets up from his chair abruptly, scraping the chair across the floor, stomping towards the kitchen.

Kimara starts to laugh out loud.  “Oh shit, I think he’s pissed!  Ohh, let me see what this is about…”

Iman sits up anxiously.  “Do you need help?”

“No, no!  I got him, he’s very reserved with his frustrations, so I can deal.”  Kimara stomps into the kitchen.  “Now what is up with you??”

T’Challa takes a towel off of a rack, folding it twice.  “Did you need to unload on her like that?”

Kimara leans on the counter.  “Sure, woman to woman.  She seems to appreciate it.”

T’Challa opens the oven door, a plume of smoke billows out.

“Fuck!  Oh noooo, my rolls!”  Kimara exclaims, running to a window to open and fan out the smoke.  

T’Challa puts the baking sheet to the sink.  “I was trying to tell you I smell smoke.”  He tossed the towel down making the sheet clang.

Kimara fans her face, coughing.  “Oh, shit.  I just forgot.”

“Mhm.  You forgot your head this evening that’s certain.”

“What do you mean by that, T??”  Kimara asks mockingly.

T’Challa glares at her.  “If things weren’t going good, we could’ve rescheduled.”

“It’s funny you think I plan for my life to fall apart, cuz that is how it works right?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“No, no one means to hurt my feelings or make me feel like shit until it happens.  You want me to be the perfect host.  Erik wants me to be a good wife and mother when I can’t even get a bun in the ov-”  Kimara stops short of the sentence.  T’Challa hangs onto silence waiting for her to finish.

“T’Challa, what if this is all a sign?  I burnt the rolls in the oven...because I can’t keep a bun in the oven?  Like pregnancy?  I can’t bake anything!!”  Kimara wails as she covers her mouth crying.  T’Challa goes over to her but stops short as Iman enters the kitchen.

“Hey, if everything is under control, I might head out.”

T’Challa looks back at Kimara then Iman.  “Well, let me call you a ride.”

“Already did.  Kimara, dinner really was good, I’m sorry to leave so soon.”

Kimara has her back turned, wiping her face before facing her.  “Thank you for coming.  You’re as nice as I heard.”

“I will walk you out then.”  T’Challa offers as they leave Kimara in the kitchen.  Her phone begins to ring, as she picks it up to find Erik’s name glowing on the screen.  All she can do is silence it, she was in no mood to talk, otherwise she might have to make a Lemonade album about it.  

Kimara goes back to her dining room table, sitting down to the bottle of wine.  T’Challa comes back in, closing the front door behind him.

“Eh, eh.  Put that down.  Eat something instead.”

Kimara groans as she swallows one more gulp from the bottle before getting it snatched from her hand.

“I’m not feeling your vibes T’Challa, honest.”  

“Vibes?  Do you hear yourself talking?”  

“Yeah I do.   That’s all I ever hear is my damn self.”

“You are not supposed to be drinking while planning a family, aren’t you?”  T’Challa asks softly, sitting next to her.

Kimara sighs deeply.  “I’ve done everything right.  All I’m supposed to do is carry, I can’t even get there.  God, I would kill for even a miscarriage, just to know that I didn’t completely fuck up my reproductive system!”

“STOP IT!”  T’Challa’s voice booms between them, reverberating off the walls.  Kimara sits upright, looking away from T’Challa’s face.  His energy calms as he leans a little further towards her.

“You do not deserve to beat yourself up like this.  Do you realize how far you’ve come in life from when I first met you to now?  There is no one as smart or witty or brilliant as you that I can also put faith in as a friend.”

Kimara fidgets with her fingers.  “Good thing Iman isn’t here to hear that.”

T’Challa sits back, taking a swallow of wine from the bottle himself.  “I won’t edit my statement, but she is a nice girl.”

“I still like Nakia better.”  Kimara says matter of factly.

T’Challa bristles at the name, looking into the distance.  “Yes, I guess she is my kryptonite, however too flighty.”

They sit in silence for a beat.

“What about that night?  What did it mean?”  Kimara asks.

T’Challa’s brow furrows.  “Which do you…”

“A few weeks ago?  My car?”  Kimara rubs her face roughly.  “Ughh, I hope it’s not the wine talking but I swear there was a moment that felt like...a thing.  Am I wrong?”

T’Challa does something he does not always do:  he begins to stutter.  It’s slow, without the skip, but a stutter nonetheless.

“I...Well...hmm,”  He says before his mouth motions wordlessly.

“...T?”  Kimara asks teasingly.  “It’s ok!”

He looks her in her eyes intensely, like she just cursed him out.  “Huh?”

Kimara shrugs.  “We didn’t do anything so it’s ok.  Don’t sweat.  That’s why I’m glad we are friends cuz I know nothing bad happens when you’re around.  No craziness, drama, you just bring me back down to earth with a good talk.  It was just a moment.  Gotta remember that.”  Kimara pats his knee and gets up.

“Wait, so were you thinking of me in a way that night?”  

Kimara sees a light flash across the curtains of her window.  “Well, look at this.  Daddy’s home.”  Kimara comes back to the table to pick up plates.  “T’Challa go ahead and have a good night.  You don’t wanna be here when I’m throwing dishes into the sink until Erik comes in and has the nerve to ask what the fuck is wrong with me.  When the whole nigga nerve of it all is that he would have the gall to think I’m wrong to begin with!”

T’Challa waves his hands heading for the door.  “I am already gone.”

--

The early morning sun is extra bright as erik drives himself and Kimara to see their regular fertility specialist Dr. Tracy.  

“I’m glad she was able to see us today.”  Erik says.

“Are you?”  Kimara asks while scrolling through her phone.

Erik scratches himself.  “Ion know, I just…”

“What?”

“I mean...if we do this it’s like cool, we finna get a baby off top-”

Kimara tuts at him.  “No!  She said that it still isn’t guaranteed.  We are good candidates but not to expect success right away.”

Erik lets out a groan.  “Right, right.  Can’t no shit come easy for me.”

Kimara looks at his profile as he drives, catching Erik looking out the corner of his eye.  “What you lookin at me like that for?”

Kimara crosses her arms.  “I’m just trying to figure out what to title your sob story in all of this.  ‘I do what I want and when it don’t go like I plan I pout?’  Or ‘Fuck everything and everyone, I’m going through it but don’t ask me what’s wrong?’”

“Damn Mara!  The fuck you gotta go there for?  The minute I try and share something with you, you bite my fucking head off!”

“Watch yourself cursing at me!  I ain’t in the mood for it, and I ain’t letting it fly like that today, ok?  I don’t need this much excitement before an appointment.”

“Then don’t go nuts on me like you some damn comedian, roasting my ass.  I’m here ain’t I?”

“Do you not wanna be?!”  Kimara shrieks.

Erik goes silent, turning on the click of his turn signal.  The tension in the car is sky high and although Erik doesn’t mind a fight, he knew not to act a fool in front of these doctors in this side of town.  

Kimara leads inside to check in with the receptionist.  As they sit in the lobby, Erik is glued to his phone the entire waiting period, fingers texting furiously.

“Why ain’t you holding my hand?”  Kimara asks.  “You always hold it while we wait.”

Erik looks over quickly and leans back offering out his hand.  “My bad.”  While the other continues to work double time on his screen.  

“Who is...Alan?”

Erik jerks his phone back.  “It’s not Alan.”

Kimara drops his hand.  “Than who is it?”

“Work.”  He says curtly, flipping to his Instagram instead.

“Is something wrong with the project you’re working on?  Is Alan the one helping you?”

“Yes and no.”  Erik says.

“Wait.  It is wrong and Alan isn’t helping?”

“It’s not Alan!”  Erik bellows before coughing to cover his outburst.

“Kimara?”  Dr. Tracy says brightly with a smile, waving them back.  Kimara smiles tightly back.

In her office, Dr. Tracy goes over the procedures and preparations for IVF, with all of the medical jargon, followed by some generous simplified explanation.  It all sounded complicated and expensive but Kimara was grateful to hear about everything that could make her miracle possible.

“And Erik, you can be an awesome support by making sure to watch your alcohol intake, exercise, eat healthy, and avoid any environmental pollutants.”

“I was bout to watch that Chernobyl show; is that off the table now?”  Erik asks.

“Erik, you ain’t got time for shit else, quit playing.”  Kimara says with a little bark in her voice.

Erik laughs in a menacing tone.  “Ok.”

Dr. Tracy looks between them nervously.  “...we also provide counseling to couples during the process, as it can be difficult.”

“I wouldn’t mind it, but he wouldn’t be able to make it.”  Kimara says.

“Oh you speak for me now?”

Kimara shrugs.  “If you ain’t there, how else can things go forward?”

Erik sputters in disbelief.  “I won’t be getting like this in front of the damn doctor.  Thanks, doc.  I got the prescription and shit, let’s go.”  Erik keeps talking under his breath as he leaves the office.  Kimara gets up to leave

“Is everything ok between you two?”  Dr. Tracy asks.

Kimara hesitates before saying it’s fine, nothing more than a couples spat.  Erik may have been right about needing to change doctors.  At least a new one wouldn’t know when things were wrong.  This would just look like a normal interaction to fresh eyes.

Back at their house, Erik is reading the instructions for her shots.

“Says this supposed to help in producing eggs for you.  Still gonna take a while though.”

Kimara sits silent watching her shows.

“Remember to mark down when you got your period last.  Supposed to start doing these on your next cycle.”

Silence.

Erik folds the instructions up, standing from the dining room table.  He comes up behind the couch, leaning next to Kimara’s ear.

“Nassau is this weekend, you know?”  SIlence.  “You picked us a real good spot to make our own magic down there.  I think we need it.”

“WE need a lot more than a trip to an island.  Erik, you still ain’t said sorry for a damn thing you said to me today.”

Erik scooches to one side of Kimara to face her.  “What should I apologize for?”

“Embarrassing me?  Not telling me about what’s going on with you and also not asking how things are with me?  Being secretive and mean to me?”  Kimara’s eyes begin to well up.  “You ain’t talked to me without walking off mad in so long, I don’t wanna get used to it Erik!  You didn’t used to do that!”  Erik hooks one leg followed by the other over the back of the couch to sit next to Kimara, holding her hands tight.

“It makes me think about before you left for that damn military out the blue.  You snapped on me back then too.  You tryna go somewhere else again?”

“Hell no!  That life is behind me, I got nothing but you and work to get through now.”

“So I’m a damn task?”  Kimara mopes.

“No!  Look:  I don’t mean to say anything to make you think you boring because you’re not.  You’re the most exciting thing in my life, and I love having you with me.  Every time I’m reminded you’re my wife, I’m thinking how we should be on our damn tenth wedding anniversary instead of third.  But I’m done and thankfully you’re not.”

“Then why are you doing me like this?”

“I-I don’t wanna force shit on you more than you can handle.  I got things happening at my job right now that could make you think the worst, but I promise it’s not.  And you don’t need that pressure right now.”

“Neither do you!”  

“I can handle it.  You focus on your dreams at the studio, and getting ready to host the biggest headed baby your womb will ever know.”

Kimara snorts thinking about this, looking down instinctively.  Erik takes one side of her face in his hand.

“I wanna be more open but I don’t wanna cost you anything too.  So until shit blows over, just know I got this.  Be patient with me, and I promise to be more patient too.”

Kimara pulls Erik to her for a longing kiss, rubbing his face for comfort.  She could feel he cares, but there was still so much gnawing in her mind, she just wasn’t ready to discuss.  But there was one thing.

“One more thing though, before I call it forgiven and get to packing for the trip.”

“You still ain’t packed?”

“I’m asking the questions!  Who is Alan?”

Erk sighs, dipping his head down before looking her in the face to answer.  “Alaina.

“He’s a what?”

“Huh?  No, Alaina.  The name was Alaina not Alan.”

Kimara’s face draws up inquisitively.  “And...she is?”

“My partner for the project I’m working on.  They recruited her from another region and-”

“That’s who you spent the night with instead of dinner with T’Challa and me and his girl?”  Kimara asks.

“I came home!  Don’t make it sound like that, it was a late night.  Ole dude I work for keeps piling shit on me and deadlines-”

Kimara waves her hands in front of him.  “It’s fine.”

“Huh?��

“It’s ok!”  Kimara smiles.  “Seriously, I trust you.  You said works been beating your ass, and I know you wouldn’t be looking all sour if you were getting some ass on the side, so I think I can trust you aren’t cheating.”

Erik stared at her speechless before nodding and agreeing.  

“Plus, we tryna have a baby and I know you wouldn’t mix shit up with her when all that seed is mine, like that would be wasteful.”

Erik growls in his chest, leaning over her, nose to nose.  “Say that again.”

Kimara holds back her smile, rubbing his chest.  “Your seeeed is miiiine.  Don’t waste it.”  Kimara bites his lip at the end of ‘it’, catching him of guard, but not enough to lay her out legs spread quicker than she could blink.

“Wait wait, Erik.  I can’t!”  Kimara says, half giggling.

“Whatchu mean??  You playing with a dog and get afraid when you get the bark?  Quit playing and get them draws off.”  Erik pulls at her bottoms.

“No!  Wait!  I mean it, I’m cramping and shit.  I don’t want nothing near my pussy right now.”

Erik moans out loud in frustration, plopping backwards on the couch, erection pushing at his sweatpants.

Kimara lowkey loved making him wait, period or not.  It’s nice to see he still wants her, and no one else has his attention to fix his rather big problem throbbing in his pants.

“Erik?  You never told me what you think about the tour.”

Erik exhales loudly.  “Good idea, that’s finna kill my hard on real quick.”

“Erik!”  

He sits up, pushing down on himself.  “Mara, I want you to get your hustle goin, I know you been singin since way way way back.”

“Hold up, it ain’t been that long, makin me feel old.”

Erik bops her with his shoulder.  “You know you been my Suga Mama.”

“Two months older Erik.  Dassit!”

Erik looks at the floor, rubbing her knee.  “I just don’t understand why you think it’s best to leave now.  What Imma do without you for two months?”

“Whatever you been doin get home late at night.”  Kimara says flatly.

“The project is almost finished, do I don’t know where that attitude came from.”  

Kimara sits silent, not up for a fight, especially in her hormonal state.

Erik stares at her, testing her.  He knows she wants to say more, she always does.  “I got two more weeks on this, and it’s done.  My workload is gonna be lighter, more boring, and I promise my time will be yours, but now you wanna leave, so.”

“But you understand why right?  It doesn’t sound like you do.  I don’t wanna leave you alone or stop trying, but...this is my dream!”

“Having a family is too right?  That’s why all our time and money been revolving around everything related to that for almost a whole damn year.  It’s fucking flaky.”  Erik shoots back.

“Erik, you got to do what you wanted, right?  This ain’t new with you!  When you want something, you go for it, fuck anybody that gives a shit, it’s yours.  I’m tired of being in the shadow of your shit, cleaning things up so you can have your peace.  This is mine.”

“The fuck is you talkin about??  Is your PMS going retrograde or some shit?”  Erik speaks over her in an agitated tone.  Nothing Kimara said made sense anymore to him.

Kimara gets up, waving him off.  “Eat my ass Erik,  I said what I fucking had to say and I mean that shit.”

Masterlist

Ragtag

@chaneajoyyy @sarcastic-sunshines @muse-of-mbaku@dameshaemonique  @fonville-designs@destinio1@bakarisange l@wakanda-inspired @klaine15689 @savageiz @nickidub718 @yoyolovesbucky @alexundefined @forbeautyandlife​ @bakarisangel

[crowned-ladybug]

18, 20, and 23 for the writer asks!

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

You obviously know about the AUs of the Bastard Parade but I must mention them here anyway (for like everyone else: I have OCs! I also have two AUs of said OCs that are p much their own things and just the names/some relationships are the same, bc i have no self-control!)

I think it can also go under here that my jojo Demon AU has like. an alternate centre to it that I wanna focus on sometime and write a few things for. Bc it is and has always been meant to be focusing on Joseph and Caesar's story, but one day i do v much wanna develop and do stuff with Johnny and Gyro's story also (depending on how you look at it, if i did another Big Plot for that it could count as a sequel to the main plot since most of Johnny and Gyro's story went down before Caesar showed up at all and they got pulled into the main gang)

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

Oh man i Love including stupid lil bits of symbolism that no one but me is ever gonna catch bc i'm a cheesy loser and it's Fun

Like Our Stories On These Walls is so fuckin obvious on the theme of like. Caesar being convinced he doesn't have a home, listing the things that define home to him in an attempt to prove to no one in particular that he doesn't indeed have a home, each statement followed by a scene like. showcasing that exact theme bc guess what, dipshit! These ppl have been your home and family this whole time!

Also Perched Over Nothingness has So Much meta to it, esp the first chapter, and yeah part of it is bc it's an incredibly like. personal fic. I put a Lot of my own experiences with grief into it. But it also somehow accidentally ended up with a frame which i'm still super happy about?? At the start and the whole last scene is the balcony of Joseph's room which is kind of an untouchable place for him bc he used to spend a lot of time there with Caesar and now Caesar is gone. I just have a lot of feelings about the balcony returning while also giving the title its double meaning bc it's both about sitting at the railing of the balcony, your legs dangling out over nothing like Joseph and Caesar used to hang out, and the uncertainty of the first chapter especially of waiting for the other shoe to drop and doing everything in your power to keep it from dropping anyway and somehow bring your maybe-dead friend home from a whole other world

I'm really bad at actually Explaining it but there's a connection there, i Swear

Also i could write meta for Heirs To Nothing like as long as the actual fuckin fic so i'm not even gonna start on that here asnhdcfhnfcnd

23. What’s the story idea you’ve had in your head for the longest?

Oh man i don't know. Like overall?? In general??? I've been making up stories for as long as i've known what a story is, i cannot recall which of the ones i can still remember was the oldest

But out of story ideas to write rn, the one i've had in my head for the longest (by which i mean a few months) is something about how Joseph and Caesar's evening rituals during their time on the island developed, from Caesar literally just kicking Joseph's ass off to his room and barricading him in to keep him from staying up after curfew, to something way more casual and sweet, mostly through "........unless?"ing each other into a lot of shit

(Idk if it'll ever end up written tho bc i mean. ideas don't stay with me for long. The combo of my adhd and my disability means most ideas lose their shine and get filtered out after a few weeks bc there is no way on earth i'd ever manage to write most of them anyway)

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Fun meta asks for writers