#god this took me way too long to gif bc i had to fucking cut it up inot 34835984739874897438947 scenes

[fakehusbandgarbagedump]

THE PATRIOT (2000) Jason Isaacs as Colonel William Tavington requested by @lyledebeast

[willsdreamgirl]

off to the races — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚

tommy x fem!reader

tommy and you are in rival gangs, and the peaky blinders interfere in your business. will you be able to let it rest? or will you give tommy the opportunity to realise his feelings for you through your conflicts with each other?

cw: mentions of guns, knives, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, smut if you squint, arthur is an ass

a/n: you guys loved the first tommy fic i wrote, so here’s another one!! couldn’t do too much hardcore enemies to lovers bc i’m a big ol softie. anywho, don’t be a ghost reader and enjoy!! 💌

word count: 3.2k

“fuckin’ peaky scum.” “what’s up, johnny?” you asked quizzically. “what’s up? what’s fucking UP? look at this shit.” you leaned over his shoulder to find your crates of whiskey disguised as hardware empty. you sighed knowingly. “can’t even enter bloody small heath without having our shit raided.” “tell me about it.” johnny laughed humourlessly.

you sat in your office, making sure the books were in order. you listened to the silent ticking of the clock. but your peace didn’t last long. “they did it again, eh?!” an angry max entered your office. you took your glasses off and put down your pen. “maximillian, if you must enter my office, do not enter it screaming maybe?” your words fell on deaf ears, max already seemed blinded by rage. “honest to god, i’ll cut every single one of those bastards!” he yelled yet again. you stood up from your chair, clearing your throat. “no need for that, max boy.” “what? what the fuck do you mea-” “i’ve arranged a meeting with the big man.” “who? tommy fuckin’ shelby?” you threw on your coat and made your way to the exit. “yes max, tommy fuckin’ shelby.”

tommy shelby was, at this point, the most powerful man in all of small heath. every government official was on his payroll and he practically had the coppers eating out of his hand. after the sabini incident, rarely anyone decided to fuck with the peaky blinders. you’d known tommy in school, you were even friends with him, but that was before your parents decided small heath was no place for a growing lady and decided to move far away from small heath, far away from tommy. but they underestimated how much spending time with tommy’s family had affected you. your parents were good people, you knew that. tommy’s family got involved in all sorts of illegal shit but made tenfold the money yours made. eventually, you realized that the shelby way was the only way you could create wealth in dirty, old birmingham. no one takes a 13 year old girl seriously when she says she wants to start a gang. so you had to start taking extreme measures. stealing, lying and gambling, to name a few. but your weakness was also your strength. you were a woman. and men underestimated women. no one ever believed you to be a threat, so they let down their guards around you. (it usually only took a glass or two of whiskey anyway) when they were vulnerable, that’s when you struck. over time, you became feared in your city, the girl who fools the men. and here you were 12 years later, your gang, the bishop ryders, being the peaky blinders’ rival gang. now, you were open to forming an alliance with them, reminiscing your time with the shelby family, but you learnt fairly quickly that the tommy you knew before the war was not the tommy that you came to know after. he was bitter, and vengeful, and after an explosion at one of your warehouses where four of your men had died, the bishop ryders and peaky blinders became sworn enemies.

you entered small heath, coppers surrounding the car. you muttered under your breath, “must’ve recognized the damn license plate.” you stepped out of the car. “mornin’ coppers, what can i do for you today?” you said, a fake smile plastered across your face. one of them stepped close enough to you that you could smell his breath. they were trying to intimidate you, of course. “who the fuck are you here to see, eh? such a pretty lady shouldn’t be in these parts of birmingham.” he spoke, a disgustingly devilish glint in his eyes. you spat on the ground next to him and knee’d him in the crotch and you yelled. “i’m here to see your king, now FUCK OFF.” the coppers seemed to back away, the guy you kicked now crouched down in the middle of the road. you got back in your car and resumed driving.

you saw a building with a big sign on it. ‘shelby company limited’, it read. tommy was becoming a pompous arse, you thought. you walked in and took a moment to look around. they had definitely upgraded since the last time you were here. the woman at the desk spoke to you. “oi, do you have an appointment?” you scoffed, a secretary, how… civilized. “who might you be?” “i’m lizzie, mr. shelby’s secretary.” she spoke, proudly. you gasped in faux amusement. “oh! so can you tell your precious mr. shelby that y/n’s here to see him?” she rolled her eyes at your sarcasm. “can’t let random fucking people in without appointments. besides, he’s not here anyway.”

after a little probing, you found out that tommy was in his new mansion, grieving over the death of his wife. when did he get married? you went over to his house, pushing aside butlers and maids to get to his office. you scoffed, for what seemed like the hundredth time today, he really was the king of small heath, eh? you walked in, the sound of your hand on the wood echoing in the big office. he motioned for you to leave without even looking up. “fuck off.” he muttered in that deep voice of his. you cleared your throat so he’d look up. his hand stopped writing for a moment, but resumed writing when he didn’t get a reply from you. you sighed, realising you’d have to vocalize yourself. you took big, exaggerated steps towards his desk. “tommy bloody shelby, sulking in his big house bought with his huge stack of cash. never thought i’d see the day.” you said mockingly. he sighed when he recognized the voice. he looked up, setting the pen down. he spoke, resting his elbows on his desk. “what the fuck do you want?” you could taste the venom in his voice. you laughed dryly. “i should be the one asking you that.” tommy’s eyebrows furrowed. “what are you fucking talking about?” you took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. the bloody nerve of this man. “don’t fucking play stupid with me, tommy. you don’t think i see how your men are raiding my whiskey crates every fucking day?” he looked ever more confused but spoke slowly, almost cautiously. “what do you mean ‘my men’?” “i mean your bloody men, tommy! fucking peaky blinders!” “my men did no such thing, i assure you. they only do what i order them to. and i have no reason to search or raid your crates.” you scoffed at him and mimicked the way his elbows were on the desk. “now, either you’re not very good at giving orders, or you don’t know what the fuck’s going on within your own organisation. whatever the fuck it is, you better fix it, and you better fix it fast tommy.” he looked at you in disbelief. “tommy shelby doesn’t take orders from anyone, especially not from a rival gang.” “i didn’t think tommy shelby sulked over a girl either, but here we are, eh? now pour me a fucking whiskey.” he got up, and poured you a glass. he looked down into your eyes as your hands brushed when he handed you the glass.

he downed the whiskey in one sip and immediately phoned the small heath shelby co. ltd. office. michael picked up the phone. “hello, tommy?” “tell polly, arthur and john bring their arses here in the next hour. family meeting.” 20 minutes later, the entire shelby family had assembled in tommy’s office. arthur was the first to speak. “what the fuck’s she doing here?” he motioned at you. “i have unnecessary business to deal with because of you fucks.” john stepped closer to you, sizing you up. “you don’t scare me, shelby. fuck off.” he looked at tommy in disbelief. “get off her, john.” tommy replied. “right, so one of you gave our men the order to raid every bishop ryder crate that comes into town. it sure as fuck wasn’t me, so who was it?” everyone looked at each other in confusion, except john and arthur. “you two. you did it, eh?” you looked at them. “we’re not tommy’s fucking guard dogs! we’re equal shareholders of the bloody company and we will do whatever the fuck we see fit!” john yelled. tommy slammed his fist on the table. “god fucking damn it! legitimate business is priority! when i say something there’s a fucking reason! when i tell you to do something, you fucking do it!” even though you’d known tommy for years, this rage was unfamiliar to you. you spoke assertively. “i have no idea how i got roped into this family drama, but it’s affecting my business. i will not have you fucking cunts pull this shit again. you try and i will cut each and every one of you.” you gave tommy a look that told him you meant every word of what you said, and with that, you left.

the next day, you were in your office, going over important paperwork. that’s when you heard commotion outside. you heard fighting, and then you heard a voice. arthur bloody shelby. he stormed in your office, going around your desk. you stood up. “what the fuck do you want, arthur?” he put his hand around your throat and slammed you against the wall. you had a tight grip around his wrist, trying to push him away. you struggled to speak. “insult the peaky blinders one more time and i’ll fucking kill ya.” when you looked in his eyes, you didn’t see arthur. you saw someone completely different. you reached into your coat pocket to pull out a gun, but arthur already had one next to your head. he pulled the trigger, the bullet grazing your ear and embedding itself into the wall. “next time, it’ll be your head, not the wall.” some of your security heard your conflict with arthur and barged into the office and pulled guns on him. arthur, in his rage, shot two of your men on sight. arthur let you go, and stormed out of your office. you’d had enough. enough disrespect. as if it wasn’t hard being a woman and running a gang in birmingham.

you went to speak to tommy. he was in his office this time, and you walked in to find lizzie typing something. “where is he?” you asked frantically. “not you again. like i said, you need to make an appointme-” “where. the FUCK IS TOMMY?” you yelled in her face. she looked at you for a moment, then spoke. “mr. shelby’s in the middle of a meeting.” “fuck his damn meeting.” you barged into his office, to find some copper sitting in front of him. you snapped your fingers to get his attention, even though you already had it. “we. need. to. talk.” is all you said. “get out.” he spoke, and you crossed your arms. the copper sitting in front of him looked at you, waiting for you to leave. “i was talking to you, dimwit. leave.” he said, pointing to the copper this time. he nodded and left quickly. “what brings you here, mis-” “your rabid dog of a brother shot at me yesterday and killed two of my men, in my office, in front of me.” you spoke, oddly calm. “what.” tommy was truly at a loss for words. “yeah. anyway, you’ll be at the epsom derby this year right? i’m gonna kill you tommy. it’ll be fun.” you said, laughing sarcastically. before he had a a chance to respond, you left his office. tommy was infuriated. not only had he lost his wife, he had gained a new enemy who now wanted to kill him, and his brothers couldn’t step up and do tommy’s job for two fucking days.

epsom rolled around, and you gathered all your men, and other men you borrowed from allies. you knew small heath men, so, you knew tommy’s men. you knew their vices: whores, whiskey and cocaine. you brought prostitutes with you, who had several bottles of alcohol and vials of ‘the snow’ on them, and had your men stationed everywhere. the plan was, distract tommy’s men, get him alone with you, and kill him.

as soon as the race started, you saw your plan unfold. all of tommy’s men were either fighting with yours, drunk and high in a corner somewhere or fucking a whore. you scoffed as you remembered aunt pol’s words. men and their cocks never cease to amaze me. truth be told, you missed that family. you missed going with the shelby brothers to steal whiskey from a pub as kids, and you missed aunt pol yelling at the boys, telling you how they were bad influences. and you missed tommy. your tommy. the tommy that would sit with you, talk to you for hours, the one you could laugh with endlessly. and here you were, plotting to kill him. how did it all get so fucked up?

while your men were distracted, you hunted tommy down. he was in the stables, alone, where they kept the racehorses. he turned around as he heard the familiar sound of a cocking gun. he raised his hands. “i’m unarmed.” you walked closer to him, gun still pointing to his forehead. “you and your stupid fucking gang have been doing so much damage to everything i’ve built all along. you got handed this tommy, you don’t know what it’s fucking like to build this from the ground up with your own hands.” you said, your hand on his shoulder. “someone has to pay, eh?” he said, take the hint and getting on his knees. you walked around him so that his back was facing you. you inhaled deeply. “ready?” you said. “give a man one last smoke?” he asked. “fine.” you turned around as he lit a cigarette. “this is the end of the line, eh? i was in this same position a year ago, maybe this is how it’s meant to be. tell arthur and john to stop fucking shit up, tell pol to take care of the boys, tell ada i love her and karl, and y/n? check in on charlie every once in a while? i don’t want him to feel like a lonely orphan, alright?” tommy spoke sombrely. you felt memories rushing back, memories of you and the boys playing with guns, getting drunk. you took a deep breath as you held back tears. tommy smiled when he felt the cold metal hit the back of his head. “don’t go soft on me now, love?” he spoke, you could hear the smile in his voice. your hand trembled as you put your finger on the trigger.

you pulled the trigger, and the bullet hit a hay bale somewhere in the corner. tommy exhaled and opened his eyes slowly. you kicked the back of his shoe, your voice wavering. “get the fuck up.” he stood up, turning around to face you. you hugged him tightly. “can’t bring myself to kill you.” you spoke, your head buried in the crook of his neck. “shh, i know sweetheart. i know.” you two always had an inextricable bond, and without either of you saying anything, both of you understood what the other felt. tommy cupped your cheek with his hand. you felt tears rolling down your cheek, tommy wiping them away. you leaned into his touch. “i fucking hate you, tommy.” he looked at you with adoration. “i love you too, y/n. it’s always been you.”

*a year later*

tommy carried you to your shared bed. you gasped as you felt him leaving kisses down your neck. “tommy-” “welcome to the family, mrs. shelby.” he said, smiling when he heard you giggle. “tonight’s gonna be a long night, eh?” he said, smirking. you smirked back. “oh, i’m counting on it.” you heard abrupt knocking, and then finn’s voice. “uh, tommy? i’m sorry- but um, it’s the russians?” you both looked at each other and instantly got out of bed. he groaned as he put his pants on and wore his gun holster under his blazer. “can’t catch a fucking break. not even on my bloody wedding night.” you rolled your eyes at him, as you wore your own holster, loading your gun and cocking it. “who told you to do business with the fucking russians?” he walked over and kissed you passionately, your tongues fighting for dominance. eventually, you pulled away for air, both panting, his forehead resting against yours. he looked you in the eye. “ready?” “always.”

“welcome to the family, mrs. shelby.”

[wxnderlxsttt]

Shameless self promotion of a fanfic I’m writing over on Wattpad. This is just one of the chapters, though I know people like a slow burn so this is about half way through. If anyone does want to read it bc feedback is always appreciated then it’s called AFFLICTED and it’s an Ellie x OC and it follows the plot of TLOU2

Xxx

*flashback*

"You know I wish we could count the stars in the sky,"

"You wish?"

"Yeah well it's kinda pointless to try and count stars isn't it?"

"Ellie you know it's also pointless to count freckles and yet I know you have exactly 29 on your left cheek,"

"You're so weird do you know that,"

"I am not,"

"No one else knows how many freckles I have on my left cheek,"

"Yeah well no one else deserves to know you that well Ellie. You're extraordinary,"

The two girls were lying on the roof of Ellie's garage, cuddled into blankets and surrounded by the Wyoming stars. Jackson was currently experiencing a power cut due to issue with the hydroelectric plant again and Ellie and Rosalia took full advantage of that, climbing up as soon as the sun set so Ellie could teach Rosalia all about the stars and the constellations. Ellie had books that lined her walls full of facts about space and stars and the planets that Rosalia, Tommy and Joel had picked up on patrols. There was a secret library out north that was on a patrol route run by Tommys friend Eugene and so after much persuasion Tommy and Eugene had taken Rosalia with them and let her sort through the books to bring back for Ellie.

"And obviously you know that's the Milky Way there right above us. That's our Galaxy." Ellie grinned up at the sky, her hair like an auburn halo around her head spread out on the roof of her garage.

But Rosalia was too busy looking to her side watching as Ellie smiled up at the sky her eyes bright and smiling from ear to ear, the skin of her cheeks stretching as much as they could the freckles moving animatedly dancing across her face.

"Ellie do you think there is others out there," she whispered still facing the young girl beside her.

"If there is I hope for their sake their worlds aren't as fucked up as ours," she laughed, a deep rumble that came from inside her belly, causing Rosalia to break out into giggles until they rolled over to look at each other their grins still bright on their faces and ribs aching.

"I hope we would still be best friends in that universe." Ellie's fingers played with Rosalia's her pointer finger running over the long scar that stretched across the younger girls palm.

"Even the gods couldn't keep us apart Ellie you know that,"

"Yeah but what if I'd never met you,"

Ellie's face was suddenly forlorn, her forehead creased with worry.

"You'll get frown lines if you keep pulling that face," Maria's voice echoed in Rosalia's mind as she poked at Ellie's dimple. "I think we would always be best friends. Platonic soulmates if you will," the 15 year old was bashful the word soulmate reverberating around her skull, eyes wide as she realised what she had said.

"Platonic soulmates?"

"Yeah like two people who were always destined to be together romantically or not," she shrugged turning back over to face the stars again, the rise of heat up her neck making her cringe.

"Pfft you and me? Romantic?" Ellie laughed not realising that Rosalia felt a strange sick feeling come up through her stomach. She loved Ellie to pieces sure. So why did Ellie's comment make her sad.

"Maybe I should head to bed El's it's late, I have to go do stuff with Maria tomorrow morning at the plant,"

"Wait no stay for a bit longer," Ellie looked up at Rosalia as she stood, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout and looking through her lashes.

"That look doesn't work on me Williams,"

"Come on i haven't even told you about the sombrero galaxy yet,"

She laughed pulling at Rosalia's hand so she fell back beside her.

"That's not a real galaxy you made that up," Rosalia giggled her hand coming to rest on Ellie's.

"I did not, it's so real and I know that becauseI read about it,"

"You're such a nerd Ellie,"

"Yeah but I'm your nerd," the two sat as Rosalia looked back up at the sky her eyes glimmering in the dark of night. She could feel eyes on her, baring into her skull.

Turning around she came face to face with Ellie who was staring intently at her.

"You're really pretty," her green eyes were looking all over her face trying to gage a reaction from Rosalia, her hand coming up to brush away the wisps of hair that hung around her face.

"Shut up," Rosalia's head dropped, her forehead resting against Ellie's shoulder, suddenly shy.

"You are, Joel thinks Jesse has a crush on you,"

"Jesse?"

"Yeah," she felt Ellie's lips brush against the hair above her ear.

"Do you like him?"

"Since when have we talked about liking boys before?"

She felt Ellie shrug her head still resting against her warm almost embrace.

"Well do you?"

"I never really thought about it," Rosalia finally pulled her head up looking Ellie directly in the eyes.

"I've always focused more on surviving than kissing boys,"

"How poetic of you," Ellie smirked. "Have you ever kissed anyone?"

"Where are all these questions coming from," they were still in very close proximity, so close Rosalia could feel Ellie's warm breath on the skin of her lips.

"I guess we just never talk about this kinda thing,"

Rosalia took a deep breath suddenly feeling shy again. She knew that she had been raised not by fault but so isolated, her life spent running or hiding from infected and helping keep Jackson safe. Plus Maria would kill her if she was running around kissing boys at fifteen years old.

"I haven't kissed anyone no," she gulped her eyes finally leaving Ellie's looking down at their still crossed hands.

"Have you?"

Ellie paused and pulled away from her suddenly seeming shy herself, her shoulders coming in as she hugged her knees to her chest.

"Yeah," she looked like she was smiling fondly like she was remembering the memory.

"It's was, erm, Riley? You remember me telling you about her?" Ellie's voice was small and muffled against her her jean clad knees, her eyes now pointing downward suddenly interested in some small animal digging around Joel's garden.

"You kissed a girl?"

Rosalia didn't mean for it to sound accusatory in the slightest, in fact she would be more shocked if she had turned round and said she had a crush on Jesse or any of their other male friends.

"If it's not obvious by now I can't say I'm particularly keen on guys,"

It wasn't a shock, after all Ellie was the biggest tomboy she had ever met in Rosalia's short fifteen years on this earth. And even in the current predicament of living through a zombie apocalypse even Rosalia owned a few summery dresses, sewn together by Maria for some special occasion. God forbid she ever saw Ellie in a dress.

She could feel a small path of emotion in her stomach as she looked over at Ellie who's breaths seemed shallower as she continued to stare over into Joel garden, her arms still around her knees.

Although she wanted to reach out and hug her she stayed silent watching as her hand came up to brush something from her cheek waiting until Ellie said something so she could try approach the situation.

"Can you say something please?" Ellie's beg was almost silent as she finally looked over at Rosalia her eyes suddenly rimmed with tears.

"You know I get it if you hated me for it. I'm sorry I didn't want to make you uncomfort-," she paused as Rosalia grabbed her hand, a laugh bubbling up her chest.

"You're so stupid Ellie. You think I'd hate you cause your gay?"

"Well that's what it fuckin sounded like," Ellie's demeanour changed quick, her tear sorrowful eyes switching to dark anger like the switch of a button.

"Hey hey calm down I'm just messing, I just didn't expect this conversation s'all," Rosalia shrugged again, not in the slightest bit phased by Ellie's sudden coming out to her.

"Well," Ellie let a breath out, her nostrils flaring. "You could've just said something instead of sitting there like a fuckin," she punched Rosalia’s arm, lightly, but probably enough to leave a bruise. "Idiot who I thought hated me after talking about," she punched Rosalia's arm again. "Platonic," another punch. "Soulmates,"

"Now girls if you're done gossiping about boys n stuff can we start heading to bed please?" Joel's voice made the pair of them jump from their skin, his Texan drawl sounding more than unimpressed as he stood at his bedroom window, his arms crossed against his chest and eyebrow raised as he looked up at the two girls still sitting on Ellie's garage roof, stars long forgotten.

"Fuck Joel," Ellie hissed her face turning red. "Do you think he heard,"

"Nah surely not," Rosalia touched Ellie's hand once more, rubbing her thumb across the back of it.

"Ellie. Rosalia," Joel warned a second time. "Don't let me have to go wake up Maria,"

"All right old man hold your horses," Ellie rolled her eyes, pulling one of the blankets around her shoulders and chucking the rest onto the ground before climbing down the small ladder she'd placed against the side of the metal building, Rosalia following suit.

That night Rosalia went to sleep beside Ellie and dreamed of shooting stars and green eyes.

*flashback over*

The door slammed open two figures emerging from the rain and gloom outside, one of them holding the other up, hushed whisperers coming from them as one of them collapsed down on to the sofa situated at the front door.

One of the figures, face still obscured by the darkness looked up at the balcony where Rosalia was sitting, joint still in hand, and the persons face was suddenly illuminated by the windows above the doors.

Ellie.

The two made eye contact, Ellie's face crumpling at the sight of Rosalia, the worry that had been etched into her forehead dissolving as she realised who it was.

As quickly as she could Rosalia rushed down the stairs tripping over her boots as she did so anxiously trying to get to Ellie.

She reached the bottom of the staircase hands grappling at the banister so she didn't fall flat on her face, anxiously waiting for Ellie to appear in front of her.

Finally after what felt like decades though it was only seconds she threw herself into Ellie, the tears starting again as she held her with such vigorous strength she though she felt a pop in Ellie's shoulder.

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck YOU," Rosalia sobbed Ellie's arms coming round her to hold her shaking body as she cried, Ellie's raspy voice scratching 'I knows' and 'I'm sorrys' gently into Rosalia's ear.

"Fuck Lia I'm so sorry," she could tell Ellie was crying too her tears wetting the top of Rosalia's head, her own chest shaking.

"How fucking could you. I thought you were DEAD," she hissed pulling away from Ellie glad she was in front of her but now absolutely furious that she was back alive in front of her, after leaving her alone in the middle of a strange place.

"And YOU," she turned around to Dina who was still leaning against the arm of the sofa she had collapsed on.

"Rosalia,"

"Don't fucking Rosalia me. Both of you. Fucking left me," Rosalia felt the angry tears stream down her face as she shook, her hand clenched as her eyes flitted between the two guilty woman in front of her.

"Dina I don't care what fuckin problem you've got with me. But to leave me? Can you imagine what Jesse would say? What Talia would say?" Dina opened her mouth to say something but a slightly green tinge to her face made her close it again.

"And you Ellie." Rosalia let a sob escape her lips. "I thought you were dead. I didn't know what I was going to do,"

Ellie reached out to her but she backed away.

"Don't touch me right now," she could still feel her hands shaking. She didn't realise how much she would hate her right now.

"Lia, I don't know what I'm going to do to make it up to you," Rosalia could think of multiple things to make it up to her, her mind was screaming at Ellie, silently begging her to just kiss her and admit her feelings and everything would just be forgiven. But Dina decided at that moment in between Ellie's laboured breathing and Rosalia's sobbing shouts to vomit profusely on the floor in front of her.

"Dina," despite Rosalia's resistance Dina was still her friend at the end of the day, she dropped to her knees in front of her, avoiding the sick and helped her lean sideways to take off her bag and jacket.

Rosalia noticed as she handed Ellie Dina's bag, Dina held a hand to her lower stomach touching it gently and sighing.

"How far along are you?" She murmured making Dina's eyes widen.

"How did you-?"

"I'm not stupid that's how,"

Ellie started at the two of them, silent tear tracks still running down her face from the small reunion but now confusion etched across her features.

"Dina?" Ellie stepped forward her hand automatically going to play with her pinky and ring finger.

"Wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Ignoring me for a second. Ellie I just saw you breath spores?"

"I told you I'm immune,"

"No you're not,"

"Yes she is Dina," Rosalia sighed pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

"I told you I got bitten years ago, and," Ellie paused looking at Rosalia for reassurance. "And I never turned,"

Dina sat there confused, Rosalia could see the cogs turning in her brain, the realisation finally coming to her after a few moments.

"The chemical burn?" She muttered staring down at Ellie's covered arm where the fern and moth tattoo sat covering years of secrets.

"You've still not explained why you've been unwell," Ellie changed the subject, looking between Dina and Rosalia.

"I'm pregnant,"

Ellie's hands rose to her face wiping her mouth as her eyes widened.

"How long have you known?" Rosalia stood up her hands running through her hair, joining Ellie as they faced the sickly girl in front of them.

"I was late a couple of weeks ago and,"

"A couple of weeks?"

Ellie backed away, her eyes wide as she stared down at Dina hunched over herself on the couch.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Ellie's voice was low, dangerous. Rosalia could feel the tension in the air, you could cut it with a knife.

"Ellie why don't you go cool off huh?" She waved Rosalia away still staring intently at Dina.

"Well?"

"I didn't want to be a burden," Dina's eyes were full of exasperation as she looked between Ellie and Rosalia, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah well you're a burden now aren't you?"

"Ellie enough," Rosalia warned, matching up to Ellie's tone. "Go cool off, find the generator or something please?"

"But?"

"That wasn't a question Ellie, go, I'll deal with Dina," Ellie pulled her bag from her shoulders throwing it against the wall, tucking Joel's revolver into the back of her jeans.

She stomped away making her way up the stairs away from the two.

"Lia I'm sorry," Dina started but Rosalia held up a hand to stop her.

"Does Jesse know?" She shook her head in response. "You shouldn't have come,"

"I'm her best friend. I wasn't going to let her go alone?"

"She has me," Rosalia sat next to her staring at the carpet in front of her, her mind going a million miles a minute trying to process everything.

"I'm sorry for being a jealous dick,"

Rosalia took a breath, "Yeah you should be,"

"I know you love her,"

"Yeah no shit Sherlock." She finally turned to look at Dina, her skin still tinged green and hand still resting in her stomach. "You need to be back at Jackson getting proper care,"

"I know,"

"And you're telling Jesse as soon as we get back,"

"I know,"

Rosalia stood up dusting her jeans off. "I have water we can use to wash up a bit, I'm gonna find Ellie," Dina nodded letting Rosalia walk away without argument her eyes following her as she made her way back up to the balcony.

As she was walking she noticed a slight hum and the lights throughout the stairwell buzzed and flickered on, Ellie found the generator and turned it on.

Making her way through the theatre she found Ellie hunched over in the radio she had found earlier trying to twist the dial to work. Leaning against the door she cleared her throat making Ellie jump around in surprise.

"Doesn't work,"

"Yeah I gathered,"

"I'm still furious," she walked towards Ellie giving her, her harshest stare. Ellie's hands reached out in front of her to pull her into a hug her arms stretching around the smaller girl.

"Lia,"

"Do you know how that fucking felt?" She mumbled against Ellie's collarbone. Her mind was screaming wanting to cry and sob and kiss her all at the same time.

"Hey look at me?" Ellies hands came up to cup her face, lifting her chin so they were looking directly into each others eyes.

"Ellie," she whispered leaning in close, the feeling of Ellie's body tight against hers, only tee shirts separating their warm skin.

"I don't know how to prove how sorry I am?" She mumbled, her lips moving to press against Rosalia's forehead. Warm and chapped and full of regret.

Rosalia sighed. Was this the right time to confess her feelings? They could die any moment, ravaged by infected or murdered by WLF soldiers.

"Ellie I-," she was cut off by Ellie's thumb brushing over her lips.

"You're my best friend," their faces were close. She could feel Ellie's trembling breath against her skin the affects from the joint she smoked earlier making her mind fuzz, her entire concentration on Ellie.

"Ellie," Rosalia sighed pressing herself further against Ellie making her emit a groan.

"Just fucking kiss me already," Ellie sighed almost unable to finish her sentence because Rosalia had reached up placing both hands on Ellie's cheeks and planting her lips straight on Ellie's, letting the shock wash over before taking it a step further and reaching her hands around her neck. She felt Ellie's hands move down to her hips, twisting them around so her spine was pressed against the desk, their lips moving feverishly against each others as Rosalia grasped desperately at Ellie's clothes. A deep guttural moan erupted from Ellie's chest, her lips detaching from Rosalia's, their forehead resting against each others as they both stared at each other breathlessly.

"Fuck Lia," Ellie's eyes fluttered closed, her head moving to rest against Rosalia's shoulder, her hands still resting against her hips, bumble fingers having moved under her tee shirt, thumbs stroking the skin of her waist delicately.

"Platonic soulmates my ass,”

[meowzfordayz]

Sort of a crack request but could I have Kamaboko squad x modern!reader headcannons of showing them memes

Hiya! 🤗 Crack request aside, I actually really enjoyed writing this. 😂 Hope it's what you had in mind. 🤞🏽

Author’s Note: grasping the concept of “meme” took me sooo long. 😭 Wasn’t really confident even using the word until like, after high school…

what do you meme?

Kamaboko x Reader

Word Count: ~1,400

CW: explicit language

~faqs~

“You wanna show me what?”

He’s puzzled, initially

But he catches on pretty quick

Just takes a few classic memes for him to nod his head

“Oh, oh oh! These are funny!” *insert delighted clapping*

Altho

He doesn’t really understand abstract memes

—Neither do I 😐

But you can get a hearty giggle out of him if you show him funny animal memes

In fact, I feel like all of his reactions are very exaggerated, albeit 100% genuine

Show him a tragic meme? Poor sweetheart’ll literally tear up

“It’s just a meme, Zeni,” your eyebrows furrow

Is it kinda cute that he’s so deeply affected? Yesyes ☺️

Is it also kinda awkward that he’s sobbing over a highkey staged image? Yesyes 🥲

Show him a cringe meme? He’ll cover his eyes, whimpering sympathetically

“Nooooo [y/n], I feel so baaadly.”

💍 THE LORD OF THE RINGS MEME 💍

“One does not simply walk into Mordor.”

Gawd that one takes him forever and a day to comprehend

Forever and a day bc y’all end up having to binge the trilogy #extended director’s cut obvi #I haven’t watched the extended director’s cut lmao

You try to get him to read the books too, but he’s #too busy

—Tbf, I found the books somewhat cumbersome

—Should prob reread them tho

—I read them in middle school lol

Ohmygosh

He totally tries to make his own

Key word: tries

Spends hrs coming up w/ 2 sentences

Will occasionally even sleep on a particularly juicy meme idea just to ensure it’s #perfect when he finally creates it

Definitely uses meme templates

He’s just… not funny ??

Well, he’s funny in that endearing, I’m-only-laughing-bc-I-love-you/I’m-laughing-at-you way

—Have you ever tried to create a meme?

—Shit’s hard

—Or I’m just not funny

—Yeeeeah, I’m prob just not funny #oof

“[y/n], [y/n], [y/n]! Wanna laugh at my new meme ?? 😁” is how almost every date starts off now

You don’t have the heart to tell him you’re laughing at him 😅

With him, you’re absolutely laughing with him 🙃

Besides, his giddiness is infectious — his pure joy and pride endearing

Dude needs his creative outlet, yanno ??

“Thank you for being patient with me,” he mumbles, smiling up at you, head nestled in your lap

“Whaddya meme mean, Zeni?”

“I know my memes suck,” he huffs

“They do suck,” you’re blunt, adoring grin on your face 😇

He pouts, “Heyyyyy.”

Dw tho, your honesty doesn’t deter him 😬

Motivates him unfortunately to come up w/ a meme that’ll actually make you laugh (even just a chuckle, a smile, a slight curve of your mouth, would be plenty)

I can’t decide whether he succeeds or not

Prob not 🤪

Debating between Inosuke being God of Memes

Or Inosuke not giving a single fuck about memes

Idk if he has the patience to appreciate meme culture

Likely takes them too literally

“Inosuke, check this out!” you pass him your phone, giggling

He raises an eyebrow, “So?”

“So?!” you gasp, feigning offense, “This shit’s hilarious.”

“No it’s not?” he deadpans, “It’s just a frog without a hood and a frog with a hood?”

“That frog is Kermit,” you retort, “And it’s the caption that’s funny.”

“I can’t take it seriously,” he shrugs

I cAn’T tAkE iT sErIoUsLy

Seriously ?!?!?!

“That’s… that’s the whole point?” you blink at him

“Okay. Then, I guess I got the point ??” he smiles confidently clearly confused

—Inosuke is basically me trying to comprehend memes 💀

“Never mind,” you grumble, snatching your phone back

He frowns as you mutter to yourself

Ofc he wants to “get it”, but it’s just a frog? Named Kermit ??

They make no sense he rolls his eyes

But he still does his best

Bc he likes likes you

Dutifully opens all of your Insta DMs

Tap tap ❤️’s every meme you send him

You even link him to those Insta pgs where they post memes w/ explanations in the descriptions

Which, kind of helps?

Slowly, slowly, slowly he begins sending you memes back

Oftentimes accompanied by a, “Wtf?”

His meme taste is as chaotic as you’d expect

One day he’s sending a ton of dog memes

The next he’s sending dark humor memes

And then Spongebob?

Also cooking memes

Primarily featuring Gordon Ramsay

#idiot sandwich

You ignore those — he’s just poking fun at how you’ve burned water it was one time, sheesh

—... I’ve “burned” water once… bc I forgot I was boiling it (to cook mac n cheese), and by the time I remembered it’d evaporated completely 😶

He’s gonna give you meme whiplash

Regardless, you totally appreciate how much effort he’s putting in

“I’m sad,” you’ll text him

And he’ll respond w/ that “👍😿” meme

—Just Google “crying cat meme” if you’re lost

You assume he’s going for supportive…

You text him, “Thanks Inosuke.”

He responds w/ (this)

You accidentally leave him on read for a while

Bc you’re freaking tf out

He just accidentally/indirectly/on purpose ?? Told you he loves you ?! For the first time !!

VIA MEME ?!

“Inosuke?”

He hums in acknowledgement, swinging waaay too high on the swing beside you

#adults deserve playgrounds and playtime too

—Everyone’s always aged up in my brain whenever I write fanfics; more info (here)

“I love you too.”

You hold your breath

This man isn’t even fazed

Lil fucker knew what he was doing all along

“That’s good. I was getting worried about being left on read.”

😠😠😠🙈 —> you rn

“Love you [y/n].”

Lowkey hoarder of memes

Primarily funny/soft content

Nothing too dark/scandalous

But when I say “hoarder of memes” I mean: Tanjirou’s impossible to show memes to

Not literally, like, obvi you can still show him memes

He’s just seen them all ?????

Doesn’t help that you have similar taste

But ffs you just wanna send him one cute kitten meme w/o him being like

“Aww babe, this is so lovely!” he coos fondly

…

…

You squint at him, “You’ve already seen this.”

He face falls, unable to lie, “Yeah,” bites his lip sadly, “M’sorry.”

Whatever ☹️

One day you borrow his phone (ofc he’s aware — #don’t promote toxic behavior)

And you scroll through all* of his memes

*Some, of his memes

**There’s too many to scroll through all of theme

***How did he even amass such a collection ??

****Is this why he takes forever in the bathroom ?? 🚽📱

On the plus side, he has a meme for every occasion!

Feeling spaghetti bc you think you bombed your most recent exam?

—That’s about to be me in T-4 hrs #general chemistry

He’s got a plethora of “I love you!” and “You rock!” and “It’s okay to suck!” memes

Feeling excited bc you’re going on date w/ him in a couple hrs?

He’s got an abundance of “cheesy dating memes” to support your hype

Feeling under the weather after overworking yourself bc school’s a bitch?

He’s got infinite memes of “Get well soon” and “Sorry you’re sick” and “I miss you”

You jokingly ask if he’s going to propose w/ a meme

He turns into a tomato 🍅

“[y/n]!”

You snort, patting his cheek

“I would never!”

You move away abruptly

Quiet

Contemplative

He’s concerned

Reaches for your hands, tension in his lungs easing when you allow him to hold them

“[y/n]?” 🥺

You smile shakily, squeezing his fingers, “Hi, Tanjirou.”

Tanjirou? He’s so used to hearing Tan

Uh oh 😔

💡💡💡

“BABE!” he exclaims, startling you, “I would never propose to you with a meme!”

Your eyes widen

“Babe, babe, babe: I did not mean to imply disinterest in our future together,” he’s bright, gentle, sheepish, “I simply meant I would never use a meme to ask something so… intimate. Significant.”

A relieved whimper escapes you, “You’re. So. Stupid,” you blubber

He laughs unabashedly, letting go of your hands to pull you into a suffocatingly secure hug

“I’m your stupidhead,” he murmurs into your neck

“My stupid, stupidhead, meme addict,” you sniffle

Does he do anything to curb his meme obsession?

Nope

Does he start curating appropriate proposal memes?

Yup Nope

[kingdaddydaichi]

NSFW Alphabet || Katsuki Bakugou

I had so much fun with this! Vodka may or may not have been involved in the making of this little ditty. 🍸 I hope you shameless hussies enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. 😩

*Exhibit A:

(Source)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I feel like he gets clingy asf, but plays it off like it's something he's doing for your sake. He'll probably never admit that he feels so vulnerable after sex, but he does. If it was a rough session - which it usually is with him - he'll ask if you're okay, if you're hurt anywhere, kiss any marks he left on you - he's such a protective hero boi.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: he's not gonna lie, he's fully aware of how well-endowed he is. He really is proud of his cock, the way it makes you sing when he works it - and he knows how to work it okay? Favorite non-sexual body part - his arms. He works hard to keep them cut (as in lifting, not cutting). 😬

Yours: listen, Katsuki is an ass man through and through. Go ahead and tell me I'm wrong, I'm 👏🏼 not 👏🏼 listening 👏🏼. He loves to watch the subtle ripples he sends through your ass cheeks when he's driving into you from behind. Also, our big scary boomboom man appreciates a nice, thicc pair of thighs. Bonus points if they're muscular/toned - he loves the way it feels when your thighs have such a strong grip around him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Let's just say our boy's orgasms are explosive. He cums hard and loud, shooting long ropes of his hot seed. Consistency is about average, not too thick, not to thin, but there's a lot of it. He doesn't taste too bad - salty, but not too bitter. You're more likely to gag from the sheer volume and force of his cum hitting the back of your throat than the flavor.

His precum gets honorable mention here. It's fucking delicious. That is all.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It took him no less than 2 years into your relationship to tell you this, and if you ever tell anyone he might actually kill you, or at the very least make your ass bleed. He hasn't gotten to the point that he's ready to try it yet, but he's not entirely opposed to the idea of you pegging him. Someday. It kinda does make his balls tingle a little just thinking about it tbh. He hasn't yet, but he thinks he might be ready to try working up to it and is really close to asking you to stick a finger in his ass and stroke his prostate. He's heard how good it feels and he's super curious to find out for himself.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not very experienced, actually. He's only had 1 or 2 lovers before you, BUT he's determined to be #1 at everything. Couple that with how perceptive he is and you've got yourself a winner of a loverboy. He's going to make damn sure that, even if things don't work out between you two, he will always ALWAYS be the best you've ever had. No other man will outdo him, E-V-E-R.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggystyle all the way, baby. As stated before, he loves watching your booty jiggle every time he slams his hips against it. He gets off on spreading your ass cheeks to watch his slick-coated cock slide in and out of you. God he just loves hitting it from behind, makes his dick so fucking hard.

Bonus 2nd Favorite Position (couldn't help myself): you on your back with your ankles on his shoulders, your ass lifted off the bed, him on his knees and hugging those thick thighs of yours, keeping them closed as he reams into you. (Slight variation of this one: he leans over you, nearly folding you in half, putting you back on your shoulders with his hands pressing into the mattress beside you, angling you such that his prominent corona rubs over your g-spot as he drills down into you. 10/10 you're gonna scream his name when (not if) your liquid gushes all over him.)

Tell me the truth, am I a disgusting human being? Here are all the fucks I give:

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Bakugou is serious asf about his sex game. This is not the time to joke around or poke fun at him, understand me? If you do he will get pissed and either fuck the silly out of you, or if he's feeling particularly ruthless he'll just stop altogether and let you ache for him as punishment until you beg him for release.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He takes care of his body, paying a lot of attention to his hygiene, which includes manscaping to keep his pubic hair trimmed and kempt. The carpet's just a shade darker than the drapes, like a honey blond. If he lets it grow out, it sticks straight out just like his head hair. It's actually kind of funny and he hates it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

*sigh* Let's be honest. Katsuki is not the super romantic type, at least not outwardly. However, if he realizes something he's doing is hurting you - physically or emotionally - he's going to stop dead in his tracks and hold you close, push his fingers through your hair, and tell you how much he loves you and how safe you are. He can be rough and he can be an asshole, but if he thinks he's genuinely hurt you at all, he's all over you, doing everything he can to make you understand that he will never let anyone hurt you, especially not himself. Got that?

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't jack off very often. You two share a very active sex life so he doesn't see the need to. If you have to be apart for more than a day or two, he'll rub one out. Or if the need hits him particularly hard and you're not available or in the mood, he's not above closing his eyes and reaching into his pants to wrap his thick fingers around his cock and start tugging.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lord Baby Jesus, where do I even begin? Kinky, kinky Katsuki. This man should come with warning signs and disclaimers.

First of all, he dom asf okay? Even if he lets you play with his ass someday, he's gonna be bratty about it. He's going to top from the bottom, hashtag facts. And trust that he WILL own you afterwards to securely reestablish his dominance.

Giving and Receiving: Hair pulling. DIRTY TALK - you think he's got a potty mouth in the streets? His mouth is downright filthy between the sheets. Loves it when you dirty talk right back to him. "You love taking my fat cock, don't you princess?" "Mm yessss, fuck me, Katsuki! Your cock feels so fucking good babyyy!" He eats that shit up.

Giving Only: Degradation. Praise. Spanking. Cockwarming. Dom/sub/power play. Shibari/ropework (he tried it bc you wanted to and he fucking loved it). Creampies. Begging. Discipline. Ravishment.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Literally anywhere inside your home/homes - bed, bathroom/kitchen countertops, kitchen/dining table, office desk/chair, any piece furniture is fair game really, up against a wall, washer/dryer, the fucking floor, ugh just all the places to fuck. Not one square foot is sacred tbh.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Wear something that showcases the curve of your butt. Doesn't have to be revealing per se, matter of fact he'll get possessive as fuck if you're showing too much skin in public. At home/privately though? He can't help himself. Dat ass tho...he is going to smack it hard enough that it stings and that's final, understand?

Tease him. You can't be obvious about it though. If he senses that you're doing it on purpose, it'll just backfire. But if you just so happen to brush against his crotch when you squeeze past him, it'll drive him crazy. Go commando in short shorts/skirt and cross your legs just so, his dick will twitch. Even better if you do shit like this in public where you know he won't act on it. But when you get home you best believe he's going to dick you down so hard, won't even bother to take said shorts or skirt off.

His ears and neck are his most sensitive erogenous zones. Whisper in his ear or kiss his neck and he's going to grit his teeth in an effort to fight back the shudder that threatens to rattle his bones.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Let's get one thing straight. Katsuki Bakugou does not share. This is non-negotiable. He will not agree to anything involving additional people - cuckolding, threesomes, orgies, exhibitionism, voyeurism (unless it's him watching you pleasure yourself - that he will gladly do, and probably start palming himself in the process).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves giving and receiving. Giving puts him in full control of your pleasure, receiving makes him feel like you're worshipping his cock, which you probably are. Have you seen this man's cock? Of course you have. Gatdamn.

Y'all, Katsuki's so good at eating pussy. Like how does one get that good at eating pussy? I don't even know, but god the way he flicks his hot tongue over your precious, tiny bud before wearing it down like a fucking feed bag? It's unnatural. Like it could be his backup quirk if blowing shit up doesn't work out. You've seen the way he licks his lips when he gets excited, everyone has.* He doesn't even bother swallowing while he's feeding on you so you just be dripping in slick and saliva and he's just slurping away. It's lewd.

*See Exhibit A above.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

You already know this, but I'll say it anyway. His go-to fucking style is fast and rough, dominant and relentless, hard and dirty. But every once in a while he'll want to take you slow and deep and passionate. He'll hold you so tight in his arms and chest, you'll have to tap his shoulder sometimes to let you breathe. And he'll just roll his hips so fucking thoroughly both of you will feel every last inch, his pubic bone rubbing your clit so hard. You've told him so many times how much you love it when he makes love to you like this, but he maybe makes it a rare treat on purpose. 😈 Little shit.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are difficult for our boy. It's not that he's against them, it's just that he savors every drop of sensuality, he has a tendency to draw the pleasure out as long as possible. He can’t help it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

The idea of having public sex turns him on, but he's only done it with you a couple of times when he was 10000% sure you wouldn't be caught. He can't risk doing anything that would tarnish his reputation and goal of becoming the #1 Hero. He might be freaky as hell, but he needs a sex scandal like an Alaskan needs a refrigerator.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He loves you long time. He's a Taurus for fuck's sake (well, Aries/Taurus cuspie, but that just sweetens the deal). Great stamina. Grinds you down like a whetstone. Can last as long as he needs to to ensure you cum for him as many times as it takes for you to beg him to stop. If he feels himself getting too close while you're blowing him, he'll stop you and go down on you instead. If he's inside of you, he'll pull out and start kissing all over your body, sucking, nipping, licking until his urge to cum passes, then he pushes it right back in and keeps going.

If on the off-chance he does cum before you, he'll be ready to go again in about 20-30 mins. Just give him some motivation, he deserves it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He didn't own any toys when you first got together, but you did. He hated the idea of you using them though, especially when he's right there with you. You've since assured him that you don't want to use them to replace him, but to enhance the pleasure. So now you do use them from time to time.

The first time you managed to coax him into using a toy together, it was a small wireless bullet with a remote. When you brought it out and showed it to him, there was a wild glint in his eye. He carefully inserted the vibrator into you, his cock slowly following suit. He loved the fact that he had complete control over this thing, but later complained because the sensation of it against the head of his cock made him cum too fast. He still wants to use it sometimes though. 😏

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh he can be so unfair. He loves teasing you until you're begging him to put his cock inside you. He's not so much into orgasm denial per se; he just loves to hear you beg him for shit - to let you cum, to suck his dick, to stop fucking you when you're overstimmed, etc.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Lol he's fucking LOUD! And he's going to make you cum so hard that you're screaming his fucking name. There was a time when one or both of you lived in an apartment and the neighbors would bang on the wall behind your headboard.

Shit, what sounds does he NOT make? He growls, moans, grunts, groans, yells, swears, fucks you so hard you can hear the wet sound of slapping skin, hell even the bed protests. Another reason he doesn't fuck in public - he can't stay quiet enough to be discreet about it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Okay, as much of a wild sex beast as he is behind closed doors, he gets embarrassed so easily when your sex life is so much as hinted at around others. It's legit funny how flustered he gets about it.

If he goes into work real tired and Kirishima says, "Hey Bakubro, you look like shit this morning. You and (y/n) stay up too late?" while doing the finger in the hole gesture, Katsuki will just "Shut the fuck up, Shitty Hair, or I'll blast your ass right through that fucking wall!"

Or if you two go out together with friends and the girls are talking about sex-related stuff, Katsuki will just roll his eyes and try to ignore it. But if one of them is all "So, (y/n), does Bakugou ever like accidentally let off explosions while you're doing it?" and you wink and say, "Only when he's especially *cough* frustrated *cough*". Katsuki will go red from his neck up to his hairline and start stuttering, sparks flying from his palms. "H-hey, d-don't tell them sh-shit like that! I-it's none of their god-goddamn b-business, (y/n), what th-the f-fuck?!" Meanwhile, you and the girls are in stitches while he stomps away, just mortified, bless his heart. When you catch your breath from laughing you'll follow it up with, "Looks like tonight's gonna be one of those nights", and you all lose it again.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

As has been mentioned, Bakugou's well-endowed. I figure he's packing about 7.5-8" in length x just under 2" wide. He takes some getting used to, that's for damn sure. Oh, and he's more of a shower than a grower. Like around 6" long x 1.5" wide when flaccid. Katsuki + sweatpants/basketball shorts = swinging dick print, alright sis? Take notes, this motherfucker visibly jumps when he does, class dismissed.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Eh, he's surprisingly not ridiculously horny. Maybe a little above average sex drive? A lot of times hero work just takes it out of him and he comes home utterly exhausted and just needs a soft place to land, and you provide him with all the love and nurturing in your heart. ❤

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends, really, on the time of day and what type of day it's been. If it's late (like past 9pm lol) and he fought more villains than usual that day, he's probs gonna pass out pretty soon after. If it's earlier in the day - especially first thing in the morning - it gets him pumped and almost comically genki.

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ _____________________

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s!ʙᴇsᴛ!ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs ᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Buck have always been close growing up but you two soon learn that the line that separates friendly and flirting is a lot thinner than you think.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, slight angst bc u got a shit bf, big bro vibes from bucky, smut duh [18+ minors dni (slight praise but also slight degradation, marking, belly bulge, squirting, fem!rec oral, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl, slight choking, pet names: darling&princess, i think that’s it lmk plz)]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hey assholes i'm back for the time being lol. I have a few ideas and fics I'm currently writing right now so do not fret.

______________________________________

You knew this was a horrible idea. 

It’s Saturday night and you and your boyfriend were back in another night club after being kicked out from one just hours before. Daniel had gotten too drunk, as he always does, causing you to kindly ask the bartender to cut him off. Daniel didn’t take that too lightly resulting in a gnarly swing at the poor guy just doing his job. 

Security threw you out and Daniel called an Uber to go where you thought was going to be your apartment but twenty minutes later you pulled up to another club practically on the other side of town. You yelled at Daniel but he pushed aside stumbling inside for yet even more drinks and mistakes waiting for him inside. 

You sat at the bar simply drinking some water and snacking on some peanuts keeping your eye on your garbage boyfriend. You're constantly checking the time on your phone, annoyed with every passing minute. It was 2 am and you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were even debating texting your brother Steve hoping you could just crash at his place not too far from where you were but it would be incredibly irresponsible to just leave Daniel in the state he’s in. 

So you waited and waited and waited. Your eyelids felt heavy and your energy was just completely drained. You were basically a zombie. It wasn’t until a guy approached your half asleep body that you felt a sense of alert. Daniel was shit-faced so you were practically defenseless. 

“Hey,” the guy shouted over the music.

“Sorry, I’m not interested. My boyfriend’s-” you quickly said, only to be cut off.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit on you. I’ve got a boyfriend of my own,” he chuckled, making you breathe out in relief. 

“Sorry,” you cringed at yourself. 

“It’s alright; but uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You might want to check with your boyfriend,” he said sympathetically. 

You pushed your way through the crowd scanning every face in search of Daniel. What did he do? Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble again? Is he getting arrested? Where is he-

“Daniel?” you said eyes tearing up a bit. 

His arms were wrapped around another girl’s waist as he kissed her the way he kissed you. She practically moaned as their tongues slobbered disgustingly with each other. Their hips grinding against each other proactively as if you weren’t even there. Sadness turned to anger, and anger turned to rage, gripping Daniel’s short hairs and pulling his head away from whoever this girl was. 

“What the fuck?” the girl complained, her eyes completely bloodshot. 

“Did he tell you that he was here with his girlfriend tonight?” you're sad with gritted teeth. Daniel stumbled around still unable to register what the hell was happening. 

“Oh my god, you forreal?” she said.

“Who fucking cares? She’s a prude anyway. I got more action with you than I did her in the past, what, six months?” Daniel slurred. 

“You know what, you’re a fucking prick, dude. She deserves so much better than you; I bet your dick is small anyway,” the girl said.

“Fuck you too bitch,” Daniel spit. 

“I can’t believe you,” you said. 

“Oh, whoop-dee-doo, big fucking surprise. Babe, you’re a prude. Can’t you see it? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anymore,” he practically puked out the words without any second thought. 

“Fine, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, you fucking asshole,” you stormed away holding in the tears; he wasn’t worth it. 

Almost three am and you just dumped your cheating lowlife boyfriend on the other side of town. Steve wasn’t answering his phone and you even wanna be near the club anymore. Walking speedily staring at your screen desperate to call an Uber home, you bumped harshly into a hard chest falling to the ground on your bum. 

“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said helping you up by your elbows.

“It’s ok. I wasn’t looking- Bucky?” 

“Oh, hey kid. What are you doing? It’s like three in the morning and you don’t live anywhere near here,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. 

“Daniel got himself kicked from the one by our apartment and Ubered here instead.”

“So where’s Daniel?” Bucky scowled; he’s always hated that guy, so did Steve.

“Probably fucking some other chick in the bathroom,” your voice cracked. 

“What?”

“It’s nothing; I just want to go home,” you cried.

“Hey, it’s ok; it’s ok. Do you wanna crash at me and Steve’s? He’s gone for the weekend with Peggy; you can stay in his room at least for the night,” Bucky offered; so that’s why Steve’s not answering his phone. 

“I don’t wanna intrude on your night. I can just call an Uber, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Steve’ll kill me if he found out I left his baby sis alone in the streets of New York at three in the morning. It’s not a problem, we were just bar hopping and I stopped drinking ages ago.”

“Are you sure, Buck?”

“Of course,” he smiled warmly at you. 

“Hey, Nat!”

“What’s up?” a beautiful redhead approached you both.

“Gonna head home ; don’t do anything stupid,” he chuckled. 

“You too,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Catch you Monday?” 

“You’re stupid. I’ll see ya,” Bucky laughed before grabbing your hand and headed towards his apartment. 

“Thanks again, Buck. For letting me stay here tonight,” you said once you entered his apartment. 

It had been a while since you hung out at your brother’s apartment but nothing’s changed. Typical men and their inability to change even a throw pillow. You set your small bag on the couch before Bucky led you to Steve’s room. There were pictures of you and him posing at Steve’s graduation; and later your own. Pictures of Steve and Bucky at a theme park, during a bar-be-que for Steve’s birthday. So many memories that Steve held onto in his room. 

“Time really flies doesn’t it?” Bucky said, slightly startling you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled.

“No, you’re fine. But you’re right. Feels all these pictures were taken yesterday,” you reminisced. 

“I got you some clothes if you need to change; I’ll give you privacy,” Bucky said, slipping from the room briskly. 

You sat on the bed frustrated with everything. Your body was so drained from being up so early in the night, to the fight with Daniel. The past couple months with him were so awful. He was just so mean to you all the time and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Where did it go wrong? When did things shift?

"Is everything ok, darling?" Bucky asked quietly, knocking on the door when you hadn't come out after a while.

"What did I do wrong? I thought he loved me," you choked out. 

Bucky sighed as he walked over to the bed sitting beside you before engulfing you in a warm hug. You cried into his shoulder and Bucky couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside him for your excuse of a boyfriend Daniel. He never got along with the guy and now he finally has a reason to knock his teeth in.

"You didn't do anything, I know it. That prick wouldn't know love if it hit him in the face. It's his loss. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Look at me, you're so beautiful and funny and fucking adorable; any guy who can't see how perfect you are, is a dense piece of shit." 

"James," you whispered. 

His words made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. But Bucky’s always had that effect on you. Even growing up. You weren’t going to sit there and pretend that hearing his words hadn't had a deeper effect than they would’ve coming from Daniel. Sometimes you wondered what being with Bucky would be like. You’re not the first to admit how handsome Bucky was and growing up you did have quite the crush on your brother’s best friend.  

You don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol still swimming through your veins, or just feeling so vulnerable being in Bucky's arms but you wanted him badly. You needed him, needed to feel something again. And you knew he could give it to you. You pressed your lips to his and in an instant his hands dropped to your hips pulling you impossibly close against his body. Your hands went to the back of his head as you kissed him messily. Your noses bumped and teeth clashed but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had. 

“Fuck, your brother’s gonna kill me,” Bucky mumbled, almost to himself, as he slowly laid you down on your back.

Bucky’s hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh every now and then as he continued kissing you passionately. Your own hands couldn’t help but tug at his shirt desperately. When he did so, your breath was completely taken away. It had been years since you’d seen Bucky without a shirt. 

Not only had he been quite skinny just like your brother back then, but not long after leaving for college with Steve he was in a bike accident that left him with ghastly scars and burns along his left arm and shoulder. Since then, it’s fair to say Bucky never really ever took his shirt off. It had taken years just for him to remove the glove he’d always wear to cover the scars on his hand.

“You’ve gotten so strong, James,” you grinned, reaching out to brush the flexed muscles running down his front. 

He simply stared at you with an anticipating and anxious expression on his face, waiting for you to state the obvious. When you didn’t, when you pulled his head down to kiss him once again, he almost cried. Bucky hadn’t been with a woman in so long, afraid of this very moment. He knew at that moment, there was no one quite like you. 

Bucky fell in love. 

“Let me take care of you, darling. You’ve been so good to me,” Bucky whispered huskily in your ear as he trailed his hand under your own shirt brushing his fingertips along the underside of your breast.

His lips pressed softly against your hot skin along your neck before standing up between your legs at the end of the bed. He pulled your shirt off then played cheekily with the straps of your bra that you still had on. You smiled back at him with the same playful stare, reaching behind you to unclasp the material. 

You could see the way Bucky’s eyes darken and his pupils widened as he stared in awe at your naked chest. Your skin bursted into chills under his hungry gaze even though you felt like you were burning up. Bucky leaned forward kissing down the valley of your breasts, nipping once in a while playfully before laying you back down. He shimmied you out of your bottoms easily, kneeling on the ground leaving you completely bare before him. 

“You are absolutely stunning, princess,” Bucky whispered, running his hands up your thighs slowly. 

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you whimpered. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you,” he smirked devilishly. 

He pushed your knees open, eyeing the arousal that glistened between your thighs. He brought his fingers up to you slowly rubbing your slick around before finally pushing a thick and long finger past your folds. Your body shuddered solely at the foreign but pleasurable feeling, already moaning softly. 

Bucky’s cock strained through pants upon hearing your beautiful moans; they were like music to his ears. He couldn’t help the way his hips would buck into the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some pain from his erection. Soon after he pulled his fingers from you slowly only to thrust them further in you, curling his fingers just right. 

He brought his mouth down to you, wrapping his lips around your clit sucking harshly. You gasped and your back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure Bucky was giving you with just his mouth and fingers. All the times that you’d given yourself to your ex, he had never made you feel this good before, feel this full; let alone with his fingers. Bucky was taking his time with you solely for your own pleasure and it made your heart swoon. 

Your legs trapped Bucky’s head between your thighs, squeezing as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands went to his hair pulling on his dark locks causing Bucky to moan deeply against you. You were so close to a release; your legs shaking violently and your stomach tightening. 

“Come on, princess. Want you to come all over my face. Can you do that for me, darling?”

“Fuck!”

“Be a good girl and make a mess,” Bucky teased.

His fingers moved faster as he swirled his tongue around and over your clit just as quickly. You were becoming overwhelmed and that coil bursted in the pit of your stomach. You pushed Bucky’s face from you, shrieking with pure pleasure; Bucky’s kept the rapid pace with fingers as you fell over the edge.

“Fucking hell, that was so hot, princess,” Bucky said standing up; his fingers, arm, his chest was covered in your arousal. 

“Did I do that?” your voice trembled. 

“Because of me,” Bucky winked playfully.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you let your head fall back on the bed as you briefly caught your breath.

Bucky grabbed his shirt that he discarded not long ago and quickly wiped his chest and arm before discarding his pants and boxers. He nearly moaned at the feeling when he finally freed his dick from the restraining garments. His hand instantly wrapped around the base before pumping himself a few times. 

You brought yourself onto your elbows momentarily ogling at the sight of Bucky completely bare before you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight. Bucky crawled over you kissing you deeply and messily; but perfectly. He pulled away and you both had goofy smiles on your faces before bursting into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s head burying into the crook of your neck.

“You’re so goddamn adorable, princess,” Bucky’s voice was muffled. 

“Bucky,” you whined. 

You couldn’t resist squirming underneath the burly man. Although, you’ve just had what was probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you wanted more. You needed more; you needed Bucky. 

“I got you, darling. I got you.” 

Bucky wanted to tease you more, make you beg, but he was just as desperate to feel you as you were. He propped himself up on his elbows kissing you one last time before reaching between your bodies and lining his dick with your entrance. Both you and Bucky moaned simultaneously as he stretched you out; curses spilling from his lips as incoherent moans fell from yours. 

“So fucking tight, princess. Squeezing my cock just right, aren’t ya?” he whispered.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you whimpered.

Bucky began to slowly move his hips in and out of you deliciously. He quickly picked up the pace, jetting his hips rapidly making your moans louder. Bucky sat up on his knees and gripped your waist surely to leave bruises in your wake. This new angle surprised you and you couldn’t help the squeals and moans that left your mouth. You chanted Bucky's name like a prayer; as if it was the only word you knew. 

Bucky watched you carefully, your face contorting with pure euphoric pleasure. He couldn’t help notice the small bump in your lower belly and without a second thought, he grabbed your hands pressing them firmly over your tummy. 

“You feel how deep I am, darling? Fucking poking through,” Bucky grunted. 

“Shit! Oh, it feels so good,” you moaned. 

“That’s right, no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good again. This pussy’s mine now,” Bucky growled. 

He took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat squeezing the sides gently but firm at the same time. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned even louder, confident that the neighbors were sure to complain in the morning. Feeling Bucky’s hand around your neck was so exhilarating; you and Daniel had never ever experimented with anything beyond a pair of handcuffs, and that particular night went horribly. 

You like being choked by Bucky. 

“Fucking slut; you like this, don’t ya?” he came down to whisper huskily against your lips. 

“Mh-hm,” you moaned with a devilish grin, your bottom lip resting between your teeth before your eyes rolled back again. 

“Such a fucking beauty you are.”

Bucky hips snapped in and out and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release.

“God, I’m close, princess,” he growled. 

His hand moved to rest on the back of your neck to pull you up so you straddled his thighs and your chest was flushed against his. Your sensitive and hardened nipples brushed against his slightly sweaty skin causing you to shudder in pleasure. Bucky’s lips attached themselves to your skin along your collar bones sucking harshly leaving purple marks all along.

Your legs shook once again as they did before and soon enough with an arched back and shout of Bucky’s name you came all over his cock. Overwhelmed with your sex, Bucky bit harshly on your shoulder in a poor attempt to muffled the loud groans and moans he elicited. Feeling your velvety walls squeeze tightly around him pushed him over the edge, coating your walls with hot ribbons on cum. 

He fell forward almost crushing you but you were too tired to complain. Bucky continued to pepper soft kisses all over your skin whispering how good you were to him, how beautiful you looked. Just absolutely showering with compliments. You felt him slowly getting off you, probably afraid he was crushing you, but you didn’t want him to leave just yet. 

“Don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his body. 

“I don’t want to crush you, darling.”

“You’re not.”

Bucky chuckled before settling completely above you, careful not to make you uncomfortable. Hardly any time went by when he felt the even and soft puffs of air hitting his skin, sure that you had fallen asleep. He picked himself up and with major guilt for his best friend, picked you up from the bed and walked you to his own room. 

After he was sure you stayed sound asleep, Bucky grabbed a clean pair of boxers and hurried himself to Steve’s room again. He collected all the discarded clothes and the dirty sheets and tossed them in the washing machine to clean right away. 

He hadn’t meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister, let alone in his own room, on his own bed, but it all happened so fast. 

He went back to his room letting the clothes do it’s thing, and quickly grabbed his phone. He messaged Steve, telling him that when he got back for his weekend with Peggy, he really needed to talk to him. 

Tonight made Bucky realize how much he loved you. Growing up, you two had always been close. But he doesn’t know when he stopped being friendly and instead began flirting. Bucky wanted to be with you; he knew it now more than ever. 

Bucky watched your gorgeous sleeping form on his bed. He smiled to himself before opening the window; the sun already rising and those beautiful golden rays seeped through the glass window, making you look angelic. He crawled into bed cuddling flushed against your naked body. He chuckled softly when you realized he’d returned, wiggling even further into his arms. 

“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled. 

“I love you, too, darling.”

And he really, and truly did love you. As did you love him. 

=======================

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Bucky Barnes Taglist:

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[nocturne-pisces]

You know I'm coming for (haaaaah 😉) Stevie Rogers.

Giving Stevie his first bj and making him feel so good he cries and tears the sheets 😈

My soft!dom ass just wants to torture him with pleasure 😫

Hoevengers Weekend: Steve's First Fireworks Show

a/n: @littlelioncub43 you're filthy and know exactly how to play

this isn't beta'd and i wrote way more than i intended to.

rated: fuck off bc this is a scene about giving a man a blowjob.

AHAHA WHOOPS I WROTE 1.3K

smut under the cut, by clicking "read more" you attest that you are 18 years of age or older.

Steve reveled in the way that you jumped ever so slightly when a firework went off. He'd convinced the team to let him have his birthday to himself, though Tony couldn't be persuaded too far so Steve had settled on letting him put together a fireworks show over the Potomac while he watched it with you from his compound balcony.

The two of you had been settled in for maybe fifteen minutes before your hands had started wandering. You never could keep them to yourself, and you have half the mind to think that's why Cap kept you locked in his room so often. While most people looked to him for permission, you just took it, and he'd give it to you as long as he could. Which in itself is a feat because the serum makes him near unstoppable, his thirst near unquenchable, and his stamina unending.

"Y'know, Steven Grant Rogers-" you start, swinging your thighs over his so that you're face to face with him in his lap. His hands drifted up the skin on your legs and settled on your hips.

"What'd I do now?"

Your brows furrow in mock concern, wide eyed and questioning.

"What ever do you mean?"

"I'm usually in trouble when you bring out my full government name."

You give a melodramatic gasp, hand over your chest, before your features morph into something more sinister.

Steve notices immediately.

"Ah, see, there it is. There's the face."

"Well, it wouldn't be a birthday without something special."

That gets his attention. His hands retreat further into your shirt, up your back, pulling your chest into his. You can feel his cock stirring under your clothed cunt.

"Something special, huh? You tellin' me you got a present for the birthday boy?" You love this side of him, the cocky side of him that tries to take control from you.

A giggle erupts from your lips as you duck your head to lave at the skin on his neck. Steve lets his head fall back and his eyes close, a low groan clawing it's way out of his chest. Your hips circle against his growing erection and you feel where the pads of his fingers find purchase in the meat of your ribcage, where he’s holding on to you like you’ll float away.

"When was the last time someone throated your cock, Captain?"

You pull your head out of the crook of his neck when his grip on your skin turned clammy near instantly, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushing a deep pink. This wasn't his normal shy demeanor that you were dragging out of him. This was embarrassment. This was the magic button you'd found of something he hadn't done yet and he didn't know how to act.

"Oh my god, you've never gotten a blowjob."

Steve let out an indignant huff, too proud to admit to the fact, not that he needed to, it was written all over his face.

"Dove..." he whined, his chest was already heaving and his hips rutted up into yours, desperate to find friction.

"Well, -" you leaned down to nip at his earlobe, knowing the way it made his shoulder twice and his eyes roll back, "-on behalf of all the dames that never got the chance to choke on it, let me show you what you missed."

You slid down his legs and onto the concrete of the balcony floor. The moment your weight was off of him you saw where he tented in his gray sweatpants.

"Baby..." he panted, his eyes finding the spot where precum had left a dark spot in the fabric.

You loved the way that he fell apart for you. He was in charge of so much, but when he walked into the door of your compound apartment, he dropped all the titles. He was just Steve who used to have asthma and high blood pressure and a heart condition.

Your fingers pulled at the band of his pants and he lifted his hips so you could get them and his underwear down around his thighs.

"Jesus Christ, I don't think I'll ever get used to that sight." It was more to yourself than anything else, but the way the vein on the underside of his cock bulged sent electricity up your spine. You gripped him tight, making eye contact with him so he could watch the way you let your spit dribble off your chin and onto your hand. That alone earned a shuddered breath from him.

"Baby, Doll, Princess, fuck, please..." The edge of the bench where he was white knuckling it whined under the pressure of his grip, steel threatening to cave in on itself.

His begging sent slick straight to your core and you couldn't hold back anymore. You flattened your tongue and ran it from base to tip, paying attention to his slit and the sweet, salty taste of his precum on your taste buds.

There was a distinct thump of skull meeting wall when Steve let his head fall back, his breathing already ragged. You turned your head to bite into his thigh, earning a high pitched groan from your bulky super soldier.

"Hey, eyes on me, handsome."

When Steve did bring his gaze back to you, you made sure he watched as your mouth sink slowly down his length, the satisfyingly full feeling of having him against the back of your throat pulling your own vibrating groan from you.

"Fuck, baby, I'm not gonna last long like this," you knew he was going to try to hold on as long as possible for you, but if he'd never gotten a blowjob before then you were surprised that he hadn't busted in your mouth already.

You smiled the best you could around his cock, laying your tongue out over your bottom teeth so you didn't accidentally catch his skin. Steve wasn't sure if it was the sight or the sounds that got him going more. The feeling was something completely out of this world, Bucky's description of how it felt didn't even do it justice, but there was something about seeing the most beautiful girl on her knees for him, listening to her slobber and choke on his cock that made it absolutely fucking ethereal.

"Baby, fuck, princess, goddamnit, please- m'gonna cum. Please god, faster...."

You could feel the muscles in Steve's thighs rolling under your hands, a testament to how hard he was trying to keep himself in check. You only found it amusing, because this was you going easy on him. When you looked up you could see the tears pricking at the edge of his eyes, knowing this had to be a painful kind of pleasure for him. So intensely good that it ached, that it set his muscles ablaze and crisped his nerve endings.

As your head came up, most of his length resting outside of your mouth, you took a steadying breath, your tongue swirling around his bulbous head to give him a second to re-center before you tore him apart. You tapped the back of his hand with a finger where he had it gripping the edge of the bench. He let go of the bench and let you drag his palm to the front of your throat.

Steve trained his gaze on his hand and your mouth, switching between the two rapidly, wondering what you could possibly be doing. You couldn't get the full form of your wicked smile out around his thick cock, but you didn't need to either.

You sank down fast and hard, shoving right past your gag reflex. The moment that Steve felt his own cock stretching your throat he let out a broken wail, rope after rope of his hot spend coating your insides.

"Fuuuck."

His hips jerked one, two, three times before his body went slack.

You pulled your lips off of him with a distinct pop, making sure to lick up any sticky residue left before pulling his underwear and sweatpants back up.

When you climbed back up onto the bench with him, he shifted his weight so that his head rested on your shoulder, his face glistening with sweat, America's Golden Boy rendered boneless by your mouth.

You leaned down and kissed his forehead, feeling the soft smile that spread across his face when he returned the kiss in the pliant skin of your neck.

"Happy Birthday, Stevie."

[reidgraygubler]

carolina (spencer reid/reader

Title: Carolina

Request: no, but it was written for @spencerreidbingo​

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: smut/angst, with a tiny bit of fluff

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (praise kink, mild-innocence kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral (male & female), penetrative sex, unprotected sex/cream pie, grinding/petting, hairpulling, breathplay, multiple orgasms, possessive kink, orgasm denial), partying, drinking, swearing, large age gap (between two consenting adults), professor/student, post prison!reid, quick mentions of drinks being drugged (but not actually happening) (if I missed anything, please let me know)

Word Count: 9,064

Summary: Spencer thinks his peer is innocent. But little does he not, she’s not as innocent as he thinks.

A/N: it’s based on carolina by harry styles, bc im a sucker for a good harry song. This was written for @spencerreidbingo​ (i’ll have a separate post with more about that). this takes up the breathplay square on my card (pictured below). This is also the first time im writing a blowjob scene, so im really sorry if it’s not good. i also didn’t have a beta for this, so im kinda blindly posting this. and, lastly, this is a lot longer than i intended. i didn’t mean for it to get this long… it’s just a bunch of words my brain wouldn’t stop saying until i wrote it... i seriously hope you all enjoy this. thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

~*~* THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT!! *~*~

{***}{***}{***}

I kept my eyes low as I stepped into the lecture hall 5 minutes before anyone else. The professor was writing something on the chalkboard, so his back was facing the room. 

“Uh, hello,” I spoked, stepping closer to his desk. He jumped slightly and dropped his chalk at the sound of my voice. I would have expected him to know students would be showing up earlier, considering it was the start of a new semester. And, I honestly would have assumed he was told a new student was coming. That’s not my job. 

“Oh, sorry,” he turned around to face me. I smiled softly, watching

as he bent down to pick up the chalk. I cocked my head to the side, watching his backside as he stood back up. He pushed his hair away from his face. “You must be the new transfer,” he asked, resting the chalk on his desk, beside a pile of pens.

“Yep. That’s me…” I smiled, looking up at his face, keeping myself from further checking him out. I quickly offered my hand and gave him my name. “I know I’m early. I figured I’d get the syllabus from you now instead of after class,” I nodded as I adjusted my grip on my bag. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes lingering on my face and then down my body, and that moment felt like an eternity. I shouldn’t be mad or frustrated with him. I basically did the same thing to him moments ago.

 I cleared my throat to get his attention once again. “The, uh… The syllabus?” I asked as my smile faltered slightly. He looked at me before looking at the pile of papers on his desk before quickly moving.

“Right, right, sorry,” he muttered as he began shuffling through the piles of paper on his desk. “Um, here you are,” he looked back up at me as he handed me a small packet. I looked at it for a moment before looking back up at the teacher.

“Perfect, thank you,” I spoke, my words kind of lingering because he never actually gave me his name. 

“Right, sorry, Spencer. Spencer Reid. I won’t be a drill sergeant about the whole Mr., Dr., Professor. You can call me whatever you want,” he smiled as he placed his hands on the back of his chair. I held back my laughter and the wildly inappropriate joke that I wanted to make.

“Well, Professor Reid,” I smiled as I looked down at my watch, “I better go find a seat before your class starts. I can’t wait to be in your class,” I looked up at him before turning to find a spot. When I sat down, Spencer looked at me with a smile, before going back to writing on the chalkboard. 

I quickly and quietly pulled out my books and pens as the other people in the class filed in and took their seats. Spencer quickly finished writing on the board before turning around to greet the class. And, even as he spoke to the class, and looked around at each of the other students, his eyes always landed on me, lingering for a moment before going elsewhere.

{***}{***}{***}

Five months. Five months into being in Spencer Reid’s class, and I have been suffering. I’m not a new student anymore. But the only friendship I’ve made is with my fucking professor, and there’s a certain level of tension between us. That tension was probably thanks to him staring at me during lectures, and me teasing him while he taught. It wasn’t too bothersome, but I definitely wanted something to happen. Unfortunately for me, I don’t think anything will happen. 

So, can someone please tell me why I invited Spencer over to help me study for a test? It’s a stupid question too, that I already figured out the answer to… I even finished studying for the day, and I’m going to a stupid party. Maybe I could get him to go with… And maybe, just maybe, something could happen.

I nearly jumped when there was a knock on the door. It’s not that I forgot he was coming over. It’s that I was so wrapped up in doing my makeup and forgot what time it was. My mascara almost smudged when I jumped back. Thank God it didn’t smudge too terribly. 

I grabbed my shirt off the counter and threw it on (not bothering to zip it), before running to the front door. I smoothed out my skirt before pulling the door open. And, there stood Spencer. 

“Hope I’m not too late,” he looked down at me and smiled. Although, his smile didn’t stay for too long when he saw what I was wearing. He wasn’t disappointed though, no. He was… He clearly liked what he saw, I’ll just put it that way.

“Oh! Thanks for coming over, but I actually figured it out. I should’ve called you,” I looked up at Spencer as he stepped into my apartment. I struggled to zip the back of my blouse as I walked towards my room. I looked back over my shoulder and noted that Spencer was, indeed, still following me. “Can you zip me up,” I stopped in my tracks before giving up on zipping my blouse. It was a black crop top that paired well with the pale pink tennis skirt. 

“Where… Where exactly are you going tonight? It’s a, uh, it’s a school night,” he asked as he lifted his hands. The cool metal of the zipper pressed against my back, causing a shiver to go through my spine.

“Uh, there’s this party,” I answered, stepping away from him and towards the bathroom, “Thought I’d go,” I looked at him in the mirror. Spencer looked around the bathroom, at the messy mess I had made on my counter. Different pallets of makeup and tools were strewn about, a varying amount of hair care products tossed here and there. It honestly looked like a bathroom of a pageant queen, and not a 20-something-year-old. In my defense, I had to dress to impress someone here in this stupid university. 

“Is that, uh… Is that smart?” Spencer asked, leaning against the door jamb. I looked up at him as I put on some luxurious red lipstick. I smiled as I looked at him.

“I think it is,” I laughed as I picked up something else and turned to look at him, “You wanna come? I wasn’t invited,” I smiled wickedly as I looked at him. His face paled two shades as he looked at me. “Oh, c’mon, Professor, no one will know us there, and I can assure you, no one will even see us,” I looked up at him as I readjusted his tie. He looked down at me before swallowing roughly. 

“I don-”

“I do need a designated driver,” I spoke before cutting him off. I walked past him and towards my room. Part of me wondered what he was thinking as I so rudely rushed past him, or cut him off, or whatever I was doing. I wished I could hear his thoughts. I wondered if they consisted of “The mouth on that girl,” or, “I should punish her for the way she’s acting,” or, my personal favorite, “I should put that mouth to good use,” 

“How old are you again?” Spencer asked once I sat down on my bed. I looked up at him as I slipped my shoes on.

“22,” I smiled and stood up, “Why, is that important?” I smiled as I grabbed my coat and purse.

“Couldn’t remember,” he lied. We both knew he was lying. He even knew that too. Freaking walking computer is what he is. There's no way he conveniently forgot how old I was. “Are you going to be out late?”

“Why? It’s not like you’re my dad or anything?” I laughed, leading him back to the front door of the house. “I don’t plan on being out too late. I know there’s class tomorrow,” I shrugged as I walked towards his car. 

We both stayed silent as he drove with the directions I was quietly giving him. I was pleasantly happy that we were both quiet, but what I hated was the sudden awkward sexual tension that was between us. If he didn’t have this… domineering personality over me there probably wouldn’t be this tension between us.

“Are you going to come with me?” I looked up at him as I unbuckled. He glanced over at me with slight disappointment in his eye. I felt a little bad, but I really wanted to go to this party, I wasn’t going to let my professor’s disappointment stop me. “Please,” I whispered. He sighed before unbuckling himself. I had to force myself to not verbally giggle with excitement before slipping out of the car. Spencer looked down at me as I twisted my hips to swish my skirt. I smiled as I entertained myself. I'm sure if I wasn't watching my skirt, I would have been staring at him, giving myself away. 

“Steps,” Spencer muttered as we got closer to the porch. I looked up at him before looking towards the small staircase. I looked up at Spencer with a smile. He glanced back down at me, a worried crease in his brow. I looked down at my skirt and smoothed it out. I looked at the door as we stood close to it, I contemplated knocking.

  “So, you weren’t invited to this party?” Spencer asked, looking down at me. His voice stopped me from knocking. Instead, I looked up at him and smiled back up at him. He raised an eyebrow as he waited for an answer from me. My smile grew playful as I looked back at the door, raising my fist to knock on it. “No answer?” he asked, still waiting for my answer.

“Oh, please, Professor Reid, I can get into the hottest parties in LA without an invitation,” I smiled at him. That was a little bit of an over-exaggeration. Most college parties I could get into. But not LA parties. Someday though… 

The door swung open, and we were instantly met with loud music blaring through a speaker somewhere in the house. People’s voices and chatter carried all throughout the house, coming through the various rooms and clusters around. “Are you coming in to babysit me? Or, are you going to go back to your car to read the science of the mathematical phenomenon,” I looked up at him, offering my hand to him. I wasn’t exactly sure if that was a real book or not, but I wouldn’t put it past Spencer to read. 

“I’m not babysitting you,” he corrected as he looked down at me with a disappointed look in his eye. I smiled and rolled my eyes. 

“Are you going to come in and watch me drink and party and have fun, Professor… Or, are you going to go back to your car and read your silly little book,” I looked down at my hand, silently telling him to take my hand and come in with me. 

“I, uh, I don’t think it’s exactly in the rules for a professor to party, let alone drink, with their students,” Spencer spoke before looking down at my hand. I dropped my shoulders and looked up at him.

“Fine then… Suit yourself,” I turned around and basically skipped into the house, leaving the door open for him. I made my way towards the loud kitchen and grabbed for a cup and bottle of whatever booze was nearby. I blindly grabbed for a bottle of Grey Goose and dumped it into the cup, no mixer, no chaser. 

“First off,” Spencer’s voice came from beside me. I looked up at him and took a long sip of vodka. “You shouldn’t be taking drinks from people at a party,” he spoke, taking the cup from me. I looked up at him, then the bottle and a new cup. I was only a little annoyed that he took my drink. 

“I… I’m young. I’m not dumb,” I grabbed a new cup and poured more vodka. I looked up at him and offered him a sip. “I know not to drink something given to me by someone I don’t know.” I scoffed before taking another long sip. I cringed a bit at how strong it was.

“Even then someone could slip something into a drink! Even if you did know them!” Spencer exclaimed, causing the surrounding people to turn and look at us. I dropped my shoulders as I looked up at him. 

“If you look around, Spencer, you’re the only person that I know. So unless you’re the one slipping something into my drink… And, as an FBI agent… I don’t think you would,” I cocked my head to my shoulder. Spencer looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You have more to say,” I added before taking a sip of my drink.

"And, secondly, you're not as innocent as I had originally thought you were," he watched as I brought the cup of straight vodka to my lips. He looked rather unamused with my talent for drinking straight vodka.

"You thought I was innocent?" I asked, nearly sputtering the liquid with my laughter. "Please! I've never been innocent in my entire life!" I shouted over the music. He raised an eyebrow at my statement, and suddenly I had the greatest idea in the world. "But maybe, just for you, I'll be a good girl," I smiled before drinking the rest of my drink in one go. Spencer looked down at me, his lips pressed into a fine as he stared down at me. Ohh, that definitely awoken something in him. I bit back my smile with my offer. Innocent… He thinks I’m innocent. Ha! I honestly don’t remember the last time I was innocent. And, honestly, just for him… I’d be an innocent, good, little girl for Spencer Reid any day, every day even. “I can be your good, innocent little girl,” I smiled at him and cocked my head.

"I don't… I don't think that'd be… appropriate," he spoke, his words very quiet. We both knew that even though it was inappropriate, we both wanted it. We both knew what we wanted to. 

I glanced at him before pouring more drink for myself. "You should learn to pace yourself," he stated and changed the subject. He nervously looked at the bottle of vodka and then around the room at all the other people drinking. Or, he was just looking for a drink that wasn’t booze. Did he actually want to keep me safe, or was I just overreading him?     

"It's a college party, Professor! I'm not going to pace myself!" I shouted just to get his attention back to me. His head shot back down to me. The level of concern on his face only made me feel a little bad, mostly because he was concerned for me. But, he should know… This is a college party.  “Do you want some?” I asked, offering my drink to him again. I held it up to him, close to his lips. His face twisted up as soon as the scent of pure vodka hit his nose.

“No, no thanks,” he held up at hand to block the cup from his face. I pouted before bringing it to my lips. “Do you usually come to parties,” he asked, his eyes darting around the room. Part of me wondered if he wanted to continue that question with “Like this?” But,  I was too busy keeping my eyes on his face, rather than looking around the room like he was. Although, I’m sure he was used to keeping an eye on his surroundings. I’ve never been too worried about it, I probably should… But hey, you only live once. Going to college parties with your 38-year-old professor, and drinking straight vodka, and not really caring about your surroundings proves my point of YOLO.

“If I don’t have class or anything to study for… Yep,” I looked up at him with a sneaky smile. The joke with that was his particular class had a test coming up soon, and I should be studying for it. He knew that too because he just announced the test this morning. Although, he did come to my home, to help me with said test. “But, I wouldn't show up to his class hungover. It’d disappoint him too much. And, he’d care too much about me to even focus on the rest of the class,” I spoke, answering the questions he was thinking. It’s not like I’ve shown up to classes hungover before. Granted, I’ve never shown up to his class drunk or hungover. Mostly because I didn’t want to disappoint him, and only him. Anyone and everyone else can go blow themselves.

“How do you know that?” Spencer asked, looking back at me with furrowed eyebrows. I smiled and stepped closer to him.  

“How do I know what?” I cocked my head to my shoulder. I already knew what he meant by his question, but… I think teasing him and messing with him is fun. And, he knew that too.

“How do you know that you’d disappoint him?” he looked down at me, pressing his chin to his chest to get a better look at me. His hands were away from me, even though I really wanted his hands anywhere on me. I looked over at my hand and the cup I held before bringing it to my lips. I took a long sip, trying to finish the contents in one go. I tossed the cup over my shoulder and looked up at him with a lazy smile.

“Because being hungover, with the slight possibility of still being drunk, would totally disappoint him… And I would hate to disappoint him.” I whispered and shook my head. Spencer looked down at me with something in his eyes, and I loved the way he looked at me. “I told you, Professor, I’d be a good girl for you,” I cocked my head to my shoulder and smiled, “And only for you,”

“You’re drunk,” he pointed out an obvious fake statement. So, I cackled and shook my head.

“I had one drink,” I scoffed and waved off my in the air, “Most definitely not enough to get me drunk,” I flattened his tie out before gripping it tightly, “Like I said, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you,” I smiled before dropping my hand from his tie, “So, why would I show up to your class… Hungover…? I know you’d care… And I know it’d disappoint you. That’s the last thing I want to do to you,”  

Spencer’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly. He quickly looked between me and the room, then back at me, then around the room. I faked a yawn before looking away from him.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay, Professor?” I smoothed out his jacket before turning and leaving him alone in the kitchen. I smiled as I skipped away from him, my skirt swishing with my movement. I secretly hoped he’d follow me. But, a quick glance over my shoulder told me he was still in the kitchen.

However, when I finished my business and left the bathroom, Spencer was leaning against the wall right beside the door. I looked up at him and smiled. 

“Follow me,” he muttered, grasping my wrist and pulling me down the various halls and past multiple groups of people. I giggled the harder his grasp grew on me and the faster he moved. I’m happy people were too busy with themselves to notice a 30-something-year-old man was dragging a 20-something-year-old girl down the hall, to which I can assume was one of the only open bedrooms. Fuck… I hope it's a bedroom. 

He was a man on a mission. Not letting anyone get in his way. The smile that grew on my lips was pure excitement. I couldn’t help it. I’m sure we’re both getting what we wanted… I hope.

I let out an excited yelp when he shoved me into, exactly what I thought, an empty bedroom. I’m surprised he knew that there’d be an empty room. Most of them are occupied, with couples (or more) doing exactly what I hope we’re about to do. Which was fuck each other.

Spencer slammed the door shut, and quickly locked it before pushing me against it. I looked up at him and giggled like a fucking kid in a candy store. Again, I couldn’t help it. 

Spencer was quiet, which led me to be quiet. The air in between us quickly grew hot and tense and thick. I really wanted this to move faster, but I wanted him to be the one in charge. I was willing to let this be slow and let him be in charge. So, when he grabbed both my wrists and held them above my head, I smiled so hard my cheeks began to hurt.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer’s voice was low and deep as he moved close to me. There was little to no space between us. Which left little to the imagination, for me anyway. 

I looked up at him, with the biggest doe eyes I could muster, silently telling him that I wanted the most, in the entire world, was to be on my knees, with his hand tangled in my hair, and his cock down my throat, or to be fucked so hard that I won’t be able to sit properly for several days. But, I couldn’t be that blunt. You gotta play up to that moment before you get it. I’m sure in the end though, I’ll get both things.

I swallowed roughly, trying to think of what to say, because, like I said, I can’t just be blunt yet. So, when I opened my mouth and words just came out, I was pleasantly surprised with what was said. “You’re old enough to be my father, Professor,” I smiled at him as he pinned me against the door. He pressed his hips against mine to keep me against the surface. I could feel a large bulge against my inner thigh, causing me to shiver. “Does that mean I get to call you daddy,” I whispered as I looked up at him through my eyelashes. He is the one who said I could call him whatever I wanted… And he did just ask me what I wanted, and I guess I wanted to call him ‘Daddy’. There was no guessing about him.

Okay, he wasn't exactly old enough to be my father. But he was a lot older than me. Most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with men 15 years older than them… and most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with their professor… I just wanted an excuse to call him 'Daddy'. And he knew that too. So, if we gave each other an excuse for that to happen, then that was all I needed.

I dropped my head to my shoulder to allow him to attack the space on my neck. He dragged his nose across my jawbone before stilling. His lips were just over my neck. As his breathing got heavier, it tickled across my skin. 

“That does have a nice ring to it,” Spencer hummed as he dropped my hands and stepped away from me. I swallowed roughly as I stared at him. I missed having his body pressed against mine, and he knew that. 

I looked at him as I brought my hands to his belt. "I thought you said this wasn't appropriate, Daddy," I whispered as I quickly undid the belt buckle, without looking. I almost couldn’t move fast enough to unbutton and zip his pants. If he wanted me to stop, he would have stopped me by now. “Can I?” I looked up at him, a plea in my eyes.

"You've changed my mind," he muttered, watching me with such close intent, “God, please keep going,” he spoke like if I did stop now he’d probably die. I looked up at him as I slipped my hand into the waistband of his boxers. He hissed as my fingers brushed against his cock. A small smile grew on my lips. 

“Didn’t take much convincing,” I smiled as my fingers wrapped around him. A small groan fell from his lips as I looked up at him. When I pulled my hand away from him not even a moment later, he looked down at me with an alarmed expression on his face. I quickly spat on my palm before sticking my hand down his pants. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” I whispered as I slowly stroked up and down his length. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening. 

“I’ve wanted this since you stepped foot in my classroom,” his voice was low and gravely as he spoke. My breathing picked up a little bit as I looked up at him. 

Okay… Maybe he did know how long I’ve wanted this. Because I also wanted this the second I stepped into his lecture hall. I wanted his cock in my hands and his hand around my throat. It only took-what, five months for this? I’ll make it worth the wait. 

“Does that feel good,” I whispered, carefully picking up speed and adding the slightest bit of pressure in my grip. Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed roughly and nodded. I smiled before pulling my hand away from him, again. I slowly lowered to my knees and kept my eyes on his face. 

Spencer looked down at him as he gently pushed his fingers through my hair. His fingers gripping hard on my roots before pulling hard. I smiled before very slowly pulling down his slacks and boxers in one go. I was only a little bit intimidated by his size, but the excitement I felt went straight to my core. 

I took a deep breath and swallowed roughly before looking up at him. My mouth fell open, and my tongue stuck out, silently telling him that it was okay. Although I don’t really know why I was telling him that it was okay, we both knew what we wanted, and it was only going to take me doing one thing.

I made eye contact with him as I ran my tongue on the side of his cock. Our eye contact didn’t last long, mostly because he let out a moan and dropped his head back. I smiled as I licked across his tip. A sweet and salty taste was on my tongue. 

My jaw fell slack as I carefully took his length into my mouth. I closed my lips around him before slowly bobbing my head, with my tongue swirling around the underside of his cock. I wrapped a hand around what wouldn’t fit into my mouth. And wrapped my free arm around his leg for support.

The sounds of his moans and grunts filled the mostly quiet room. Music, although muffled through the walls and door, could still be heard from outside of our own world behind the door and four walls.

“You were right,” he struggled to speak through groans, “You aren’t as innocent as I thought,” Spencer's hand had a rough hold in my hair as he held me against him. His cock was penetrating my throat, and breathing was beginning to get difficult. My eyes grew wet and tears grew in the corners of my eyes. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me as the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if my makeup started smudging and I looked like an adolescent raccoon. “You look so pretty with my cock down your throat,” he struggled to let out a coo, before moving his hips closer to my face. 

Everything about this moment, his hand in my hair, the sounds he was making, the way he smelled, being here… Was intoxicating. I’d give anything to be in this moment again. And I’d give anything to get this moment sooner.

 My knees would hate me in the morning, I just know it. I could already sense the dreaded carpet burn before he even started. But, in all honesty, it’d be worth it. Walking into class tomorrow morning, with bruises and day-old wounds on my knees, just to see his expression.

As I began to pick up pace, the sounds Spencer was making started to become more urgent, easily telling me he was close. But, before he could finish, I pulled away from him, crashing into the wall to get away from his grasp. He looked down at me with a mild frustration on his face. I smiled before wiping my chin clean of spit. 

“I guess chivalry is dead. Whatever happened to ladies first?” I asked, my voice a rasp from how raw my throat was. I looked up at him, feeling a certain level of sass grow in my smile. Spencer quickly tucked himself back into his pants before grabbing my hand. 

“Come on, on your feet,” he muttered as he pulled me back up to a standing position. I nearly toppled over into him if he didn’t hold me upright. I looked up at him and smiled. 

“Bed… Now?” I whispered, my tone showing how urgent I was. It’s not that I wanted this over with, it's that I wanted everything to happen to me all at once, and I wanted it to last for a long time. 

Spencer nodded before cupping my face in his hands. He was harsh when he pressed his lips to mine, like his life depended on it, if he did kiss me now the world would end. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he started guiding me towards the bed. And when the edge of the bed hit the back of my legs, he pushed me back onto it. I quickly moved so my head was resting on the pillows. Spencer was quick to take his cardigan off and be over me. 

“You’re not going to fail me, are you,” I joked as he quickly started leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on my neck. He lifted his head and looked down at me with confusion on his face. “If I’m a bad fuck,”

“If you ask that again, or bring up class while we’re doing this… Then yes,” he muttered as he looked at me. I laughed as I pushed my fingers through his hair. 

“Oh, shut up,” I laughed as I pulled him down to kiss him, again. One of his hands landed on top of my breast, carefully kneading it, causing me to moan into his mouth. 

His hand slowly drifted away from my chest. I pressed my head into the pillow and looked up at him with a smirk. He carefully dragged his fingers up from my chest to the base of my neck, causing me to let out a shaky gasp. I wanted fingers and a hand around my neck, carefully cutting off my airway just right. Suddenly, I never wanted something so badly in my life. Something dark flashed in his eyes as he looked down at me like he knew what I was about to say. 

“Do it… I fucking dare you,” I muttered, placing both my hands around his wrist. My nose twitched as I stared at him. “I said fucking do it,” I spat, pushing his hand down more onto my neck. My words slowly got cut off as the pressure in his hand and fingers tightened around my neck. A moan struggled to escape me, but did eventually fall from my lips. He seemed pretty happy with that.

“Is that good,” his voice was a growl. I looked at him and moaned.

“Harder,” I begged, my voice growing raspier the more I spoke. He smirked before allowing his grip to tighten. His other hand was still sitting on top of my hips, and I could tell where he wanted to put it. I’d be a dirty, rotten liar if I didn’t want his hand up my skirt. In fact, I’d love it if he did more than just his hand. 

Spencer swallowed roughly before finally sneaking a hand up my skirt and resting it on my underwear. My grip around his wrist got tighter as he pushed past my underwear and past my folds. My eyes fluttered closed as another moan was strangled in my throat. 

“You’re so wet,” he purred as he slowly moved a finger around my clit. I looked up at him, as I struggled to swallow roughly. A dark smirk grew on his lips as he watched me struggle for a moment. “Does that feel good,” he asked, mildly mocking me from earlier. His movements picked up speed just a little bit, and my body reacted, well tried to react. 

“Oh, you’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me. His pupils were so blown I could nearly see my reflection in them. “Another thing you were right about,” he whispered as he slipped a finger into my entrance, and curled it just right. My vision slowly blurred before my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Another moan struggled to escape my throat as Spencer added a second finger. 

My body was on autopilot as I lifted my hand and hit his wrist a few times, telling him that I desperately needed to breathe. When I reopened my eyes, I looked up at him a moment before he removed his hand from my neck. Worry and concern flashed in his eyes as I breathed. Air burned like fire in my lungs as I took a deep breath. As I exhaled a loud moan followed behind, easily telling Spencer and I that I had reached my first orgasm of the night. I just hope there will be more... 

“You did such a good job, Princess,” Spencer whispered as he looked down at me. With his free hand, he brushed the tears away from my cheeks. He carefully withdrew his hand from between my legs and held them up to his face. He looked at them for a moment before placing them in his mouth, sucking and licking them clean. I took a shaky breath and nodded. 

He very sloppily pressed his lips to mine, then on the corner of my lips, and down my jaw, and neck. With one quick movement, a loud rip filled the room, as he tore my shirt off my body. I looked up at him with shock in my eyes. To be fair, that shirt was flimsy, to begin with. I was more worried about leaving my chest so exposed as we left the party. 

“Oh, I’ll give you my sweater,” Spencer muttered before attacking my neck and then down to my collarbones, and over my breasts. I gasped as he wrapped his lips around a nipple.

“Mmm, Daddy,” I whimpered as I shifted under him. I brought my hands back up to his hair, tangling my fingers in the hairs on his neck. When he sensed that I was growing restless (even though he just started), he quickly left wet kisses down the rest of my body

“I like the way that sounds coming from your mouth,” he whispered once he was in between my legs. I looked down at him just as he looked up at me. “Good on your end for wearing such a short skirt,” he smiled before pressing his lips to my inner thigh. A shaky breath tumbled from my lips as I looked at him. “Makes for easier access,” he added before going higher up on my leg.

“You’re not going fast enough,” I whined as he just kept kissing, or licking, or rubbing my inner thighs. It was honestly getting annoying. I kind of felt bad for him. Considering I’ve already cum once, and I got him close but didn’t let him finish. 

“I’m not going fast enough?” Spencer looked up at me. I shot him a scowl as I shifted slightly on the bed. Spencer looked back down the apex of my legs before looping two fingers around the band of my underwear. As soon as I lifted my hips, he pulled my underwear off my body and chucked them to the ground beside the bed. “How’s this for fast enough,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before licking between my folds. A breath of air got caught in my lungs as my hands found their way to his hair, my fingers getting knotted up in his roots. 

“Mhm, Spencer,” I gasped, rolling my hips up at him. He hummed, sending vibrations straight to my core. My legs wrapped around him, my heels digging into his back as my own back arched. 

“Ohh, Daddy, please don’t stop,” I cried, pressing my head into the pillow beneath my head. My fingers pulled hard on his hair, pulling him closer to me. He hummed again as he pushed two fingers back into my entrance. My grip in his hair tightened, and I could feel my grip wanting to loosen. 

My breathing picked up as a familiar feeling grew in my stomach. And all I could say was his name, and the suddenly loved nickname I had for him. He seemed to appreciate my reaction too, because he worked faster. Messy and wet sounds, mixed with my breathy moans and calls of his name filled the room, and my end was near. 

“Fuck,” I shouted as I finally came undone. I could sense if I didn’t pull him away, he’d keep going, and going till I couldn’t take it anymore. And, honestly, that sounds great, but I think that’s for next time. I wanted him in me now. “Spencer, Spencer,” I cried as I tried to pull his head away, but failed so hard.

“Nuh huh,” he hummed, looking up at me. I took a deep breath and pressed my head into the pillow beneath me and threw an arm over my face. “Please, Spencer,” I cried as I bucked my hips at him, “Fuck me, please, fuck me, Daddy,” I moaned. He was going faster than before and was clearly trying to work me to the end faster too. It was hard to breathe, and speak because my words would just get stuck in my throat.  

Although, when I did cum, again, for the third time tonight, Spencer did move away from my legs. He knelt between them, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. My body was shaking lightly as I tried to come down from my high.

“Please,” I whispered, lifting a hand up, trying to reach for his tie. He looked down at me with a smile and raised an eyebrow.

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I spoke. I could feel my voice becoming a little whiney. Spencer moved so he was hovering over me, his fingers gently brushing hair away from my face.

“Tell me what you want, Princess,” he whispered cupping my face in his hand. I looked up at his face, admiring his lips, and eyes, and nose, and the way his lips had a sheen from when he licked them clean and whatever was leftover from when he was eating me out. 

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” I begged, begged. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine for a moment. He sat up away from me to remove his sweater and shirt. My head was spinning from excitement, I didn’t even notice that he was totally undressed.

Spencer was back between my legs, looking down at me like I truly belonged right here. Or, like I was his to fuck with. Either way it was a good feeling. 

“Ready?” He asked, his voice so low that I could hardly hear it over the bass of the loud music. I rapidly nodded my head, worried my answer was the wrong one. But it wasn’t. I desperately wanted this. Needed. I needed this. 

Spencer hovered over me before putting an opened mouth kiss on my lips. I could hardly breathe as he rubbed the tip of his cock against my clit and entrance. I could feel a moan getting caught in the middle of my throat, my body not being about to handle anymore teasing. Until, he very slowly pushed into me.

“Oh, good girl,” he repeated. Those two words, constantly coming off his tongue. Making me feel good. The praise that I hadn’t heard in such a long time, that I longed for. Part of me wondered if he knew I wanted it. “Has someone not been taking care of you?” he asked, looking down at me. I stared at him, not trusting my own voice. My mind was too distracted with the way I felt, light and airy but at the same time full. So I shook my head.

“No, Daddy,” I whimpered and kept shaking my head. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled before moving his hips. It took him a moment to get a perfect rhythm. He lips attached to different spots on my neck, leaving hickies in his wake.

“Spencer,” I whispered as I moved my head closer to my shoulder to let him have more space.

“You feel so good,” he grunted as he moved his hips so he was deeper in me, “You feel so good, and you’re all mine,” he pressed his forehead to mine as he wrapped his arms around my lower back, pulling me closer up to him. My breathing got deep, my chest heaving with each breath I took. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down, closer to my face. 

“Oh, be quiet,” I whispered before putting my lips on his. He smiled before passing his tongue between my lips. A moan fell from my lips, which he seemed to enjoy… Considering it was probably just music to his ears. 

“I’ll only be quiet if you keep making those little noises,” he muttered against my lips. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He smiled again as I knotted my fingers in the hair on the back of his head. 

“Faster,” I breathed out, keeping my eyes on him. Spencer laughed lightly as he picked up the speed. My hips bucked with his, meeting at the right points. “Please,” I whimpered as I threw my head back more into the pillow. He pulled his arm away from my back and brought his hand between our legs, where we met. 

“It’s okay, Little Girl,” Spencer whispered before pressing his lips to the side of my face. I let out a shaky breah and arched my body into his. I couldn’t believe how good I felt. I almost wasn’t sure if it was fair that my professor was better in bed than other men my age. He was more experienced, to be fair. “You can finish, it’s okay,” he kept his voice low. It almost sounded like he was giving me permission.

I nodded my head, breathing heavily through my nose. “Mmm, Spencer,” I moaned, loudy, as my walls fluttered around him and my release came. And a few moments later, Spencer thrusted deep into me with a grunt, filling me with his essence. His body collapsed on top of me whence he finished.

“Fuck,” I muttered, my fingers still tangled in his hair. My limbs were sore and shaking slightly from the rough movements. Spencer laughed lightly, agreeing with my statement. “We can’t sleep here,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the ceiling above us. I wished we could just sleep here, mostly because I was exhausted after everything we did.

“I know,” Spencer replied as he slowly moved off and away from me. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’re messy now,” he muttered as he basically tumbled off the bed. I quickly sat up, just to make sure he was okay. Although I was happy he was okay, I quickly regretted moving as fast as I did. 

“Your sweater,” I mumbled, reaching out towards where his sweater was lying. He looked down at it before picking it up to hand to me. He also grabbed a fistful of tissues and moved to between my legs, again. “Just give me your boxers,” I looked at him as he wiped the insides of my thighs clean. He looked back up at me, still cleaning my legs. 

“I’ll give you a ride home,” he spoke as he tossed the dirty tissues to the trash. He grabbed his slacks and boxers, tossing me his boxers. I slipped them on under my skirt, and then slipped his sweater on. 

“I’d hope so,” I whispered as I stood up. My body wobbled for a second, nearly falling over, before I caught my balance. Spencer looked back at me, looking at how fucked I looked. I mean, I probably looked about the same as him. 

“I’d given you a ride home either way,” he said as he redressed. I looked at him with confusion on my face. Either way? So even if we hadn’t had sex, he would have given me a ride. I asked him and he said yes. So I would hope he’d given me a ride, even if we didn’t fuck.

Once we were both ready to leave this stupid party, that I didn’t even enjoy (well, I did, I was just in a different world), or was even invited to, we walked out. It was as easy as pie. And, since no one really knew either of us were here, I won’t be known as the girl who fucked the professor.

The drive home was quiet. Like, even quieter than the drive here. He didn’t even have the music playing. I wondered if it was my fault, if he was regretting what we had done. If I had known he’d be so regretful, I wouldn’t have wanted to fuck him. But, I guess its too late now. 

When I looked out the window, I realized we were parked outside my apartment building. I looked down at my attire and looked back at Spencer.

“Thanks… Thanks for the ride… And thanks for the sweater. I’ll be sure to give it back to you… Eventually,” I looked up at Spencer as I pulled the door open to leave.

“See you Thursday,” he nodded at me. I looked at him before slamming the door shut. I scoffed before turning to walk up to my home. I couldn’t want to sleep.

{***}{***}{***}

Two weeks. Two weeks since Spencer and I fucked. Okay, not too bad. I don’t regret it, and I’m not afraid to say that. However, I think he might be regretting it. Considering he’d been nothing but ignoring me since the night of the par-Well, I wouldn’t say ignoring me since then. He did fuck me in his office the following Thursday. But, it’s still been two weeks since he last said anything to me. Fuck, I’ve never been so mad.

“Good morning, Professor Reid,” I looked at him as I skipped into his lecture hall. I heard his words begin to greet me back, but fail when he saw what I was wearing. “Best get to my seat. Excited for today’s lesson,” I readjusted the cardigan that hung off my shoulders before turning to go to my seat. 

I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull as I walked away from him. Or, was he staring at my ass. Most likely my ass. It was my ass he was staring at. I was wearing a fairly short skirt, so that’s on me. But, I’d do anything to get his attention today. And it would appear I have gotten it. 

His lesson wasn’t actually anything important. It was just revision for the test coming up soon. But, it was obvious he had other things on his mind, and I was very clearly one of them. It was honestly a little distracting if I’m going to be honest.

So, I was happy when he called the end of class 5 minutes early. Although that excitement was gone the second he called my name to the front to talk. I looked at the ground as I stood by his desk, waiting for the very last person to leave so Spencer and I could have our moment alone.

“What are you doing wearing that?” Spencer asked as soon as it was just us. I tried to ignore the fact that he was trying to take the sweater off me, and made my shoulders drop.

“What? This old thing?” I asked, pulling the cardigan that he let me wear around my body. I looked back at him and smiled. He was not smiling. “You gave it to me,” I scoffed, letting him take it off me without a fight. I watched as he folded it over the back of the chair before turning to face me. 

“I gave it to you so your,” his words began to get jumbled up as he gestured to my boobs, “So you weren’t exposed in front of any-”

“So no one would see what belonged to you?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. Spencer looked down at me, a flabbergasted look on his face. I smiled and cocked my head to my shoulder.

“I… I never said that,” Spencer shook his head.

“Yeah, but you thought it,” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Spencer looked down at me. I could tell that he was trying to be the one in charge, kinda like how he was the other night. But it was so, so clear that he couldn’t be in charge. That he wouldn’t be in charge now. That this was just embarrassing to him. Maybe that’s just how our dynamic would work. Out in public, I was the loud one, the one who made everyone think that I was in charge in the bedroom. And, Spencer, in public, was the quiet, shy, nervous one, who was clearly submissive in bed. But in actuality, he was telling me what to do, when and when I can’t cum.

 “Why were you wearing that?” he asked again, his voice pulling me from my very dirty thoughts. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Because you were ignoring me! I needed to get your attention somehow! And then I remembered I still had that,” I smiled at him. I wished I still had his sweater on, because it was actually quite cozy and warm. The look he gave me made me drop my shoulders, suddenly feeling ashamed about the current situation. So, I stared at him, feeling annoyed. More annoyed than I have over the last two weeks. “Do you regret it?” I finally asked, not really knowing if he’d be mad with my question. 

“Pardon me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at me. I shook my head and looked down at the ground. “It’s not that I regret it-”

“So you do,” I looked back up at him and dropped my shoulders again. Before Spencer got the chance to say anything, I cut him off, “Oh please, you loved shoving your tongue, and cock, down my throat,” I scoffed before looking at him. The expression on his face flinched slightly as he looked back at me from behind the desk. “I get to… I get to be your good, little girl, your princess for, what, a week? A day? 12 hours? Whenever the fuck you want... And I’m supposed to go back to normal life the next day? And… And pretend that nothing happened!” I stared at him and shook my head. Spencer looked over at the door and back at me. “Thinking it’ll never happen again!” I shouted. I didn’t mean to shout, honest. But I was starting to get angry. He made me feel something like I belonged to someone. And now I don’t feel like that. 

“Will you stop talking for a second,” he muttered before stepping away from me and his desk. He walked over to the door and shut it. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as he walked back over to me. “I never said you had to pretend as if nothing happened. And I never said that I regret it,” he spoke in a harsh whisper. I looked at him with mild irritation on my face.

“It sure fucking felt like it,” I spat at him. 

“You’re all I think about… Christ, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that. I never said you had to forget everything… Because I’ve been having a hard time forgetting it myself.” He looked up at me. I almost refused to look at him, but his voice was so soft that I had to look at him. “I never expected you to forget,” he added. 

“Then why are you acting like it didn’t happen,” I stared at him before swallowing roughly, “You made me feel like I was wanted, that I belonged somewhere, with someone,” I spoke as I stepped closer to him. It was only a little bit closer to him, not as much as I wanted. But he stepped closer to me, making it so we were the closest we had been all day, in one large step. "You remind me of home," I added in a whisper. Spencer smiled and cocked his head to his shoulder.

“You do belong somewhere,” he whispered, resting his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him, feeling my heart pick up speed, and butterflies appear in my tummy. “And that somewhere is with me,” he brought at hand to my cheek, allowing his thumb to rest on my lower lip. I looked up at him before he pressed his lips to mine. 

I was honestly expecting him to say something else. I don’t know what. But I liked what he said, it made me feel really good. Like, I belonged with him, and nothing could change that.

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @thebluetint​

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door IX (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Eight Here

A/N: Surprise! I’m briefly back from a year-long Hiatus and I have one chapter for TCND, one for ATU AND a George Harrison one-shot I’m just gonna drop and then probably disappear again for another few months. I’m also finding it even more difficult to write for Roger seeing as I’ve kinda been listening to nothing but The Beatles for the last fifteen months and I really only hear Queen at work, so that’s gotta change. But I am very sorry about the LONG wait. I really do appreciate you guys, and I think you’ve all waited quite long enough to find out what happens next...

Summary: Roger and Y/N spend the morning taking care of Bobby; they talk a little more about the future and come to the conclusion they both want the same thing.

(Let your imagination run free, bc this can be either Canon or Borhap!Roger)

WARNINGS: Swearing is probably a given at this point, self-doubt, mentions/ suggestions of sex (advise you to avoid if you’re under 18), and I usually revise when I’m stoned so there’s probably some typos in here too, sorry.

Rated T for Teen-- (I feel like a video game rating smh)

Bobby was crying again.

Granted, it was about seven in the morning, and he did sleep for the rest of the night.

Roger was the last of the both of you to wake up; not because of the crying-- he didn't even hear the crying-- but he was wrapped up in the blankets with you, and you were trying to remove yourself from his grasp.

"Don't leave," Roger grumbled as he pulled you tightly against his chest, eyes remaining closed as you whispered back to him.

"But I have to go. Baby's cryin'."

Roger loosened his grip on you, much to his dismay, and you slipped from his embrace, leaving him cold, and alone.

"Come back, Baby..." He really hoped his gravelly plea would entice you to return from the nursery after tending to Bobby, and although you were probably against having sex in your friends' bed, he figured there was no harm in testing the waters.

"That's not how that works when you have a baby, Rog. The day starts now."

Roger groaned in protest, but as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, he revealed to himself that you were no longer in the room, and the baby's cries settled when he heard your voice float down the hall from the nursery room.

Roger, as much as he didn't want to, tossed the comforter off of his body, and after rising to his feet and combing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the stairs.

He was glad he was familiar with John's kitchen; because he was certain you had no idea where anything was, meaning he would be the one preparing breakfast that morning, and the one following it, most likely.

Fuck it, he would (try to) cook you up seven different meals a day if you asked him.

Anything for you.

He put the kettle on, and moved to the pantry in search for John's teabags, yawning lightly as he pulled the door open.

Nothing in the pantry really stuck out to him as being a good breakfast that morning, so Roger ended up migrating to the fridge after retrieving the tea, where his eyes fell on the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf.

He settled on making French Toast for breakfast seeing as he, according to you, made the best French Toast in England.

So he got to work whipping up some eggs and pulling four slices of bread from the bread box on the counter-- but not before he got one of Bobby's bottles out for you, warmed it, and placed it on the kitchen table.

Roger was frying the French Toast in no time, and he hummed gently as he busied himself with focusing on the now whistling kettle, and when the right time to flip the toast would be.

"... I thought you were still in bed," your words were sudden, and it made Roger jump a little. But when he realized it was only you, Bobby in your arms, his mouth contorted into a dopey smile.

"Nah," Roger turned the pan's burner down a little, and after he flipped the French Toast, he set his spatula on the counter, turning to face you.

"I was gonna let you sleep in, since you were so reluctant on waking up," you explained with a yawn. "But here you are awake, and making breakfast before me."

"Well it wouldn't be fair then, would it? Me sleeping in while you've all this work to do?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"I really don't think so, Dove."

He felt pride swell in his chest when pink dusted your cheeks at the sound of your new nickname, and he took this chance to swoon you further by pulling you in gently by the elbows, and he enveloped both you and Bobby in his embrace.

"Beautiful..." Roger's voice was barely a whisper as he touched his lips to your jawline, and you responded with a soft exhale.

"Even when you've just woken up," Roger mumbled against the skin of your neck, lips curling into a smile, "you are the prettiest goddamned thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmm, down, boy," you purred back jokingly, taking a small step back. "Baby still needs to eat."

"Well yours is coming right up," he teased, "and Bobby's is already at the table." Roger pointed to the bottle on the other side of the room before tapping your rear. "Take a seat, and I'll bring your food over."

You didn't have to be told twice. You took a seat at the table, and although Bobby was growing a little agitated, it was short lived when you put the bottle of milk in his possession.

Roger, not five minutes after you sat down, joined you at the table with your French Toast and your mug of tea, made just the way you liked it, of course.

"'S the right tea, yeah?"

You took a quick look at the label hanging from the mug.

"Yep." Your eyes squinted after letting the label fall where the string tied to it would let it. "Y'know, you've been making my tea right for months, you don't have to check to make sure you're right."

"You know I'm always gonna make sure it's to your liking."

"And I love you for it."

"Hopefully for other things too. I'm not just good at being your barista."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm not overlooking your other good traits," you smiled as you brought your mug to your lips and having the first sip of tea of the day.

As Roger sat down next to you with his own plate of food and mug of tea, he decided to wait on Bobby to finish so he could eat with you.

So, naturally, he took the time to evaluate again what kind of situation he was in.

There was nothing like watching you care for Bobby. Roger had known you for years, and not once in his life did he ever think he would be sitting next to you at breakfast while feeding a baby, whether or not the child was his own, or yours.

The whole scene looked too good to be true, though like the previous night, Roger just drank in the sight of you putting all your love and care into a child at breakfast with him.

How did you think you weren't cut out for being a mother?

This was in your nature.

The domesticity of the situation made Roger a little emotional. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to experiencing a breakfast with a family he'd built, and he spent every passing second filling his mind and heart with the beautiful sight before him.

"Y/n, you would make a wonderful mother." Roger's words left his mouth faster than his brain could register what he'd said.

You looked to Roger from Bobby, cheeks and tips of your ears darkening, and Roger was talking again before he could realize it and catch himself.

"Any man would be so damn lucky to have you. I honestly can't believe you stick around me still."

Your face was feeling real hot, now. Roger's head was still lagging behind his words, and clearly, he wasn't done talking.

"You could be out building a beautiful family right now, but instead you're babysitting with your best friend who you also occasionally sleep with. I just... I don't understand."

It took you a second to respond, but Roger didn't blame you. Honestly, he didn't even know what he would have said if he were asked the same question.

"... Well, I love you, Roger."

Your words were simple, and Roger knew your statement was nothing but platonic, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding against his ribcage.

You'd said those exact three words to him minutes earlier, but the context of the conversations contrasted their meanings.

"But we promised each other at the beginning of all of this that we'd be fine giving up pursuing family life if that means living with one another..."

"... You sound unsure, now."

The atmosphere felt heavy, and it was almost as if Bobby had known making noise wasn't in his best interest. He decided to finish eating at the right time.

"... It's not that I'm unsure. It's just..."

Roger waited patiently for you to answer, but you had noticed Bobby finished his milk, and you took the bottle from him.

You burped him, and placed a pacifier you pulled from your pocket in Bobby's mouth. You must have gotten it from upstairs before you came down.

"Let me," Roger offered his arms out for the baby, and you let him take Bobby. You'd stood up and moved to the sink to wash the bottle.

Meanwhile, Roger, who'd also gotten to his feet, was slowly walking around the kitchen. He was praising Bobby for finishing all his breakfast, insisting he was so proud of him, his smile wide and gaze adoring as he evaluated the child in his arms.

"It's just that. There. The way you're behaving with him," you turn to face Roger, finger pointed at him. "The way you're treating him as your own."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times, but after shutting his jaw for the third time, he decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to keep quiet.

"You'd make the most wonderful father, Roger. The way you behave with Bobby, god, the way you behaved with Raymond the other day," you sounded frustrated, and all Roger could do was watch you pace the kitchen, his sheepish face now a deep red.

"It's just that I would want the father of my kids to be just like you. I wouldn't settle for anything less."

Roger opened his mouth again to speak. He felt like his chest was on fire. Your thoughts were becoming painstakingly parallel to his, Roger had noticed. He couldn't get any words out before you started speaking again.

"Like you said last night, this job is giving us a chance to experience what it'd be like to have a family... and maybe I'm upset I did throw the chance to have all of that away."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears, and all Roger could do was watch you and listen to what you had to say.

"Roger, I hope you know you will always have a special place in my heart. You're my family, you have been for the last five years of my life, and there's no doubt about it. But being able to have a child..."

Your hands ghosted over the robe's fabric covering your definitely unpregnant belly. "... I think I want to have children."

"... Y/n I hope you know I feel exactly the same way."

And then everything was clear.

Roger understood where his band was coming from.

Getting married to you would solve all your problems.

He knew what the both of you were thinking in this new moment of silence, but there was absolutely no way Roger was going to fall to one knee and propose to you right now when he wasn't even romantically involved with you.

And he just felt it would be very inappropriate if he took this moment to spontaneously ask you on a romantic date with the intentions of courting you.

"Listen, Y/n," Roger finally built up enough courage to break the silence. Bobby cut him off with a short cry, and Roger immediately started swaying the baby in his arms. Sure enough, Bobby's agitation ceased, and Roger could continue, keeping the movement going.

"Just because we're living together without families now doesn't mean we won't be able to have families, say, five to ten years down the road."

At this point, although it was necessary, Roger didn't really want to mention the discomfort he felt when imagining you falling for someone who wasn't him.

Your eyes were big and sad, lip pouted as you considered Roger's words. "... are you sure?"

The idea of you and him having to move out of the condo Roger risked the both of your love lives for didn't sit well with him.

You'd be gone making sweet love to some lucky asshole who probably didn't deserve to be in your presence, while Roger goes on a bender, gets ahold of some weed and coke, and sleeps with enough girls to distract him from realizing he'd thrown the best thing in his life away-- you.

He didn't want you to think he thought you were selfish. The last thing he needed right now was to feel guilty for making you feel guilty.

So he just nodded. "No house isn't forever anyways." When you didn't respond to his little joke, he sighed.

"Y/n, we're still so young. You don't have to commit yourself to anything like that just yet. Enjoy being able to go out drinking with me every weekend, and sleeping in on our days off. Your chance to start a family will come when the time is right."

You let out a shaky breath. Roger was actually a little surprised with how well you were keeping yourself together.

But his actions put the both of you here, and to see that this conversation nearly reduced you to tears had Roger drowning in guilt, even without the help of mentioning any of his inner conflict to you.

"I just hope you're right." Your voice was broken and your fingers were tangled stressfully in your hair.

"Hey," Roger's voice had gone soft again, his rocking slowing to a halt, and you looked up to find him with an open arm, awaiting your touch.

You slowly unravelled your fingers from your hair, and you gave into the hug not moments later. Roger pulled you to his chest tightly, his free arm occupied by the baby.

"Y'know... I made you French Toast to start the day off good." When you didn't say anything in response, Roger pulled away from you just enough to look you in the face.

He was giving you that same look he did at the Garrison's again; that unreadable gaze he'd achieved with those big blue eyes that seemingly bored holes into your very soul.

His free hand slipped up from your back to your neck, and he leaned in to just touch his lips to the corner of your mouth.

So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't before long that he pulled away from you, but Roger just couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"You come sit down and enjoy your French Toast, Dove. I've got Bobby."

"But--"

"Please?"

Roger knew he'd convinced you as soon as he said that magic word. Though you took a moment to look from the bundle in his arms to the breakfast you really were dying to dig into, you eventually sighed out a gentle "thank you," before taking your seat again at the table.

He came around and kissed the top of your head. "Enjoy, Honey." Roger took a seat next to you, Bobby still in his one arm, and the both of you ate your French Toast in relative silence for the first few seconds.

"... God, you really do make good French Toast, Blondie." Roger was smiling now. At least you were talking again.

"I only improved my cooking skills for you, y'know," he admitted with a mouthful of his food, though he didn't sound ashamed of it.

"And thank God for that. Cooking every other night sure beats cooking every night."

"You can say that again," Roger mumbled before shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth. You still slowly ate away at your meal, and Roger was making funny faces at Bobby in between taking sips of his tea.

The telephone in the living room started ringing, and you stood up to go get it, but Roger immediately dropped his fork and grabbed your wrist.

"Nuh-uh. I just finished eating. You still have a little bit to go. Take Bobby and I'll get it." You scooped the baby up without another word, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Can you at least bring back his rattle from his play pen?"

"Can do, Princess," he called over his shoulder as he approached the phone.

"H'lo?"

"Roger?"

"Oh, hey, John!" Roger tucked the phone's handset under his chin, carrying the telephone in his left hand so he could get Bobby's rattle.

"Isn't it a little early to be up?" Roger glanced at the clock, which read that it was quarter after seven.

"Biological clocks. Just wanting to checking in. Is Bobby okay? Has he been any trouble?"

"No, of course not! He's doing fine, John." Roger tucked the rattle in his back pocket when he found it, and returned to the writing desk where the phone was meant to stay.

That was something he loved about you. You always bought him pyjamas with pockets. The concept was cool, and being able to use them was even cooler.

"Y/n's got him in the kitchen right now," he explained, taking the handset again with his now free hand. "We're all just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"Oh good. How is she?" John paused for a second, his voice dropping a little lower. "... How are you guys?"

Roger made sure his voice was a little quiet, as well. "John, this may have been your guys' best idea ever. I don't know why I was against this in the beginning."

"Really?! What's happened already?!" John, everyone would have guessed to be one to avoid certain kinds of gossip, though when it came to Roger's business with you, he liked checking up on that.

"I told her about all that family stuff."

"And?"

"And, well..." Roger set the phone back onto the desk and scratched the back of his neck. "... She may or may not be having the same problem," he mumbled.

"So... so you both want a family?" John tried clarifying.

"Yes."

"Then why are you two not together?!" Roger slipped away around the corner into the main hall with just the receiver so he was a little further away from the kitchen. He didn't want you hearing their conversation, or John through the receiver.

"Well I'm not asking her here!"

"Then where? And when?"

Roger knew John was just getting excited, and his questions honestly had Roger brainstorming every possibility when it came to asking you.

"... I don't know, yet," Roger said after a while of thinking. "But soon. God, it needs to be soon." He didn't quite know why he was pressuring himself to ask you sooner than later.

Maybe it was because he was scared someone much better and more deserving of you (or alternatively, a selfish prick) was going to waltz in and steal you from him just before he had you for sure.

"Do you need any help with that part? I can get Fred and Bri--"

"No no no, it's okay, John." Roger leaned up against the wall of the hallway, fingers tapping the handset absentmindedly with his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

"You guys have already done enough, really. I... I think I'm good on my own from here."

"Well, I'm glad," John expressed to Roger. "It's not every day you need to help Roger Taylor get with a girl, y'know."

"This is different, and you know it."

"I just like to tease," John defended, and Roger could even hear a smile evident in his words.

"Anyways, Veronica and I will be home tomorrow around noon. Y/n's got our number. You two take care."

"Of course, you too," Roger was making his way back to the writing desk.

"Thanks. Oh, and Roger?" John added quickly.

"Hm?"

"If you two end up doing anything, for God's sake, please wash the sheets."

As John was speaking, you'd walked into the living room with Bobby in your arms. "We're gonna go and have some play time, now! Yes we are!"

Roger was too panicked by your presence to even realize you weren't paying any attention to the phone call, and he hoped to God you didn't hear a single thing John had said. "Yeah-yes! Laundry. Will do."

He nodded his head once, though John couldn't see him, and after saying their good byes, Roger hung up the phone.

He turned to where you were in the living room. You were looking in the play pen for something, and Roger suddenly remembered the rattle in his back pocket.

He pulled it out hurriedly and held it out to you. "Shit! I'm so sorry about that--"

"Don't swear, Roger," you took the rattle, a smile on your lips you both knew you were trying to frown away. "There's a baby here."

"What? He doesn't know what that word means."

"Well, the more you keep saying it, the more of a chance he has at that being his first word, and I do not need the Deacon Family hunting us down for teaching their kid swears." You looked from Roger down to Bobby, shaking the rattle gently and grinning when Bobby squealed happily and reached out for the toy.

You took a seat on the couch, and played around with Bobby while Roger went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

From 7:30 AM to about 2:30, all that really happened was play-time and lunch, something Roger prepared. You offered to do the dishes, but Roger wouldn't allow it. He just suggested you put Bobby up for his nap. He'd fallen asleep in your arms during play-time, like he did with Roger the night before.

The both of you thought it was crazy Bobby would just fall asleep rather than cry, but honestly, neither of you were complaining. Quiet baby for the win!

Roger just finished putting the last plate on the drying rack on the counter as he listened above for your footsteps leaving Bobby's room. He dried his hands off with the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder after turning off the faucet.

From behind, Roger felt a pair of arms slowly circle his body, and he smiled warmly at the feeling of you pressed against his back.

"He asleep?"

"Mhm."

Roger's smile only widened as you inched your palms up his chest. He turned in your arms and pressed his hands against your hips, inching you closer as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

"Well, what do we do, now?" Roger asked. He sounded like he was up to no good. With the sultry look in his eyes and the way the smile on his lips looked like he was repressing a naughty suggestion, he knew you knew he already had something on his mind.

"Well, I mean," your hands slipped up into Roger's long hair, fingers tangling themselves between the strands. "Anything, really."

You knew what game Roger was playing, and you loved how cute he was, thinking he was going to have you on your knees for him.

His eyes shamelessly raked over the top half of your body, and he squeezed his hands, still at your hips.

"What'll you be doing with your free time, Roger?" You took one more step closer to him, and he pulled you the rest of the way to him so your groin was flush with his.

"I'm looking right at her."

He was already strained against his jeans, and you just offered a smile, fingers tightening their grip in Roger's hair.

"Mmm... I kinda like the sound of that," you admitted lowly, half of a smile on your lips. You shifted your hips from side to side, and Roger tried to pull you even closer.

You rolled your hips against Roger again, and the cheekiness in his face fell with a look of long-awaited relief, and his head dropped to your shoulder.

One of his hands moved up to grab you by the back of your neck, and when he lifted his head to look at you again, his second hand dragged upwards from your hip to squeeze your waist.

Roger lifted the hand by your neck, and combed your hair back with his fingers. His eyes fell onto yours for a brief moment, and you could have sworn there was something he tried to tell you there.

You just couldn't read him.

But he didn't care. He pulled you in close again, and his lips were on yours.

You'd kissed Roger before. Not in public, but definitely in the bedroom. And they weren't very scarce. Honestly, if Roger's lips weren't somewhere else on your body, they'd be on yours.

But why was this feeling different from all the other times he'd kissed you?

He was being a lot less forceful and needy than he usually was.

His grip wasn't tight on you, and it wasn't like he was crushing you against him as if indicating he needed more of you, now.

He was holding you rather, and the hand at your waist circled around to press against your lower back. The hand on your neck shifted a little forward so Roger could gently slide the pad of his thumb down the column of your throat.

The both of you were holding your breath, and Roger was the first to pull away. The both of you sucked in some air, and before you could even draw in a full breath, Roger's lips were on yours again.

He pushed towards you, guiding you backwards until your back was flat against the refrigerator. His warm hands grabbed for yours and he pinned them above your head by your wrists.

Okay. This, was something you were used to. But there was nothing that could have prepared you for when Roger's hands loosened their grip on your wrists, and he was lacing his fingers between your own.

Your hands felt very small in Roger's. How had he never noticed that before? What else had he neglected to realize about you?

In that moment, he felt you pull away to breathe, and he looked down at you worriedly, fingers frozen, yet still laced with yours.

"I- uh... I-I'm sorry--"

"No no, don't be. It's okay," your response was very rushed, but you didn't skip a word.

There was about a minute of silence, your hot breaths mingling in the space between your lips, though your gazes were locked with one another, and you couldn't look away.

"Did-uh... did you want me to... to stop?" His question was gentle, almost sincere-sounding, but he still made no effort to move from his place.

"No. God, no." And as soon as you'd answered, Roger closed the space between the both of you again, his fingers unwound from yours to grab you by the jaw, and you just held his waist, pushing your body as close to him as he would let you.

He shifted around a little, and moved his leg between yours. You could feel his mouth bend into a smirk against yours, and he began to apply pressure to the apex of your legs with his knee.

Before long, as much as you wanted to resist it, you fell to Roger's submission, and as you waited for him to grab your waist and put you wherever, he hesitated for a second, and dropped his hands from yours.

You opened your eyes again to find Roger, face red, and staring at your chest. Not in an ogling way, but more of a method to avoid looking you in the eye.

He could tell you were looking at him, and he shifted his gaze to you. He itched at his hands awkwardly, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain himself.

You just waited. You gave him time to think, and he had an answer for you sooner than either of you would have thought.

"I just... I wanna try something else. I don’t want to control you like I do every night."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but a good beginning to a demonstration.

"Will you come to bed with me, Y/n?" His offer was gentle, yet confident, despite offering a hand out hesitantly.

When you dropped your hand into his, all of the tension in Roger's being relaxed, and he quietly led you up the stairs, past the nursery, and into John and Veronica's room.

Before you could say anything he gently explained that he'd do laundry later, and then he pulled you in for another kiss he'd been waiting to give you since the last one.

Roger pulled you closer to him, hands cupping your face as his lips began to desperately chase after yours. You kissed Roger back with just as much vigor, but then he slowed the movements of his mouth, and guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Roger helped lower you down onto the bed, and he leaned over you, dipping down to kiss your lips again. He knelt between your legs, and pulled them up around his waist so he could lean in even closer.

You felt his hands squeeze your hips, and he pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth. You hummed lowly, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks as Roger pulled away ever so slightly-- just enough to pull his shirt off of him, and close the distance between your bodies again.

You tangled your hands into his hair, and he hummed in approval before pulling back just once more.

"I'm sure that's hardly fair..."

"What?"

"This," Roger tugged gently at the hem of your shirt.

"Why's yours still on?"

"... I never said it had to be."

Roger exhaled, and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head after you raised your arms to help him out a little.

He placed the palm of his hand over the smooth skin of your belly as he stared at your bare torso. And before long, he dipping down to kiss you again.

You reciprocated his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his hips, to which he rocked himself against your core, and then---

Bam!

The headboard hit the wall, and Bobby woke up.

"Nooo..." you squeezed your eyes shut as the baby's cries began to reverberate down the hallway.

"Fuck!" Roger groaned, eyebrows knitted together helplessly as he climbed off of you. You both knew it was Roger who technically woke the baby up, and it was just silently agreed on that he went to put him back down.

"Dammit to hell, those separated headboards."

Roger opened the nursery door, and made his way to the crib in the corner of the room. Bobby's cheeks were wet with tears, and Roger's heart sank. "'M sorry, little guy. C'mere. Come see uncle Roger."

He picked the baby up and rocked him back and forth, though it wasn't exactly doing much, so Roger took a seat in the rocking chair on the opposite side of the room, swaying the both of them with a push of his feet.

Bobby's cries settled, and Roger felt proud of himself. Sure, he wanted to get back to what he was doing before, but instead he took his time in making sure Bobby was comfortable and not in need of anything before he drifted off to sleep again.

Bobby played around with Roger's fingers a few moments after his agitation ceased, and he couldn't believe how large his hands were in comparison to Bobby's. He was once that size.

A little while later Roger set Bobby down in his crib, and the infant was out. The drummer smiled at his accomplishment. He didn't even need your help.

With that, he left the room without a sound.

He stepped into John and Veronica's room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He was in the middle of turning on his heel when he stopped dead in his tracks.

You'd taken some of the pillows off the bed and wedged them between the wall and the headboard to keep the bed from making noise.

You were also splayed out on the bed in a lot less clothing than he remembered you in when he left.

With a teasing beckon from your finger, Roger knew three things were for certain.

1. You were the smartest woman he knew.

2. You were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

3. He, the Roger Taylor, had fallen madly, and helplessly in love with you.

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

A/A/N: Again, you’ve all been waiting long enough for the next chapter, so here you are. i hope you all enjoy, and if my response is great with this one, I’ll see if I can spit out another one soon <3

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[islesnucks]

THE NANNY - ELIAS PETTERSSON X READER

inspired by this fragment of what bo said in a interview about letting the team babysit Gunnar

ps: i don’t know if they nicknamed him Gunnsey, just saw Jake call him that once 

ps2: this is not proofread so just a warning

Word count: 3.4 k (a bit longer than what i usually do)

Warnings: kidnap is mention a couple times jokingly bc petey at first thinks Y/N’s kidnapping the kid, even though it’s meant 100% as a joke i know it could be triggering so just letting you know, however just in case keep in mind it’s never used seriously

Summary: Elias doesn’t know Bo and Holly hired a nanny so the first time he sees you with the baby he freaks out a little, eventually apologizes and there's fluff (i suck at summaries)

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Elias was coming out of the dressing room when he saw you rushing down the hall with a little kid in your arms that he knew for sure wasn’t yours, because it was in fact his captain's son. So he did what seemed like the reasonable thing to do: look for Bo or Holly to tell them. Luckily Bo was near the door finishing his interview with a couple reporters.

“Hey Bo?” he approached him as soon as the reporters left.

“What Petey?” He could see the alarmed look on the boy’s face.

“I think I saw a girl running away with your kid.” he told Bo, who was about to lose it when he saw you walking down the hall in their direction with his son in your arms. He let out a relieving sigh, making Elias confused. If it was his child he definitely would be calling 911 by now.

“Is that the girl you were talking about?” Bo asked, pointing at you. The hall had become more crowded since the rest of his teammates started coming out, but he could see you as you stretched your neck and looked around for someone. Elias nodded, getting more confused by the second.

“That’s our nanny dumbass.” he informed him, hitting him in the back of the head for making him needlessly worry.

“A Nanny?” 

“Yes a nanny Elias. She looks after our kid, takes care of him. Don’t they have those in Sweden?” He knew what a nanny was and Bo’s sarcastic remark only made him feel more stupid. Of course you were the nanny, it was pretty obvious, now that he looked at you he could see you were carrying the bag Holly normally brought everywhere with Gunnar’s stuff.

“They do I just-” he started to defend himself but instantly shut up when he saw you appear next to him.

“Hey look it’s your daddy!” you said to little Gunnar in your arms as the baby stretched his arms toward his father making grabby hands. Bo smiled at his son and took him in his arms, but you could tell there was a bit of concern on his face.

”Is everything, okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just that Petey here though you were kidnapping Gunnar and almost gave me a heart attack.” Bo explained. Elias looked down embarrassed as his cheeks turned red. You on the other hand were too busy panicking to even notice the blushing mess standing next to you.

The Horvats had hired you mainly to help Holly around the house since she was getting back to her work and especially when Bo had to go on roadtrips. They also wanted Gunnar to get familiar with you, that’s why you were there tonight. This was your first time with them out of the house, if you did something wrong they wouldn’t trust you so they would probably fire you and you really needed the job.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry! I forgot my phone back on our seats and Holly had gone to the bathroom and you were still in there and I couldn’t leave him alone-”

“Y/N don’t worry. It’s fine.” he interrupted you with a sweet tone that made you ease the anxiety that started building up at the thought of losing your job before it even really started.

“I’m so sorry I should have told you before disappearing with Gunnsey.”

“Really don’t worry Y/N.” he kept reassuring you, but you couldn't shake off that bad feeling.

“What happened?” Holly asked after joining you and seeing your expression.

“Nothing, just a little misunderstanding Everything’s okay Y/N, really don’t worry.” Bo answered before you could and gave you a sweet smile that helped you calm your nerves. He would obviously tell Holly when they were back home, but it wasn’t a big deal and he didn’t want to make you feel like they were coming down on you.

Elias was starting to feel a bit out of place there so he excused himself, said goodbye and left to find his friends, but not before giving you one final look. Now that he didn’t think you were trying to kidnap his teammate's kid he found you really pretty and felt even worse for what he made you go through. You were smiling and chatting with Bo and Holly about the game, but he could see you were still a bit nervous. 

He made his way towards Jake, Quinn and Brock, who were already looking at him suggestively after seeing the whole interaction, completely obvious to the fact their friend had actually screwed up big time.

“Who’s that?” Brock was the first to ask, wiggling his eyebrows.

“She’s Bo and Holly’s new nanny.”

“I didn’t know they hired a nanny.” Quinn was the one talking now.

“Yeah, me neither and I kind of thought she was kidnapping Gunnsey-” he started to explain but instantly regretted it when he saw the looks on his friend’s faces. He was never going to hear the end of this.

“No you didn’t!” Brock cut him off and everyone started laughing, everyone except Elias who just shook his head trying once again to hide his embarrassment.

“Way to make a first impression Petey. She must hate you.” Jake said putting his arm around Elias. 

“Fuck off.” he replied pushing his arm off and walking away towards the parking lot as he heard their laughs behind him. He was not in the mood to endure the teasing from his friends.

On the drive to his apartment he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He knew Bo and Holly weren’t going to fire you, they were nice reasonable people who understood it was all a misunderstanding; a misunderstanding caused by him. Yet he couldn’t shake off the feeling he should have said something or at least apologize. So he promised himself that was the exact thing he was gonna do when he saw you again.

-

The next time Elias saw you was a couple weeks later. Bo and Holly were hosting a barbecue for the whole team and had asked you to come over and help look after Gunnar while they prepared everything.

Elias walked into the house with one thing in mind: apologizing to you. However as he made his way through the house towards the backyard he couldn’t find you anywhere. He took a sit next to a sit with the rest of his teammates and tried to make casual conversation but his mind was stuck on you.

Bo noticed the way Elias was barely talking and constantly looking around for someone and it didn’t take him long to realize that someone was you. Elias had asked him about you a couple times at practice and games after what had happened the other night, but he still didn’t know if he was just being polite and wanted to apologize or there was something more going on.

“She’s inside playing with Gunnar in his room.” Bo leaned in to tell him so the rest wouldn’t hear, then he simply turned around and continued working on the grill. Elias was a bit confused at first, he didn’t understand how Bo could even know what he was even thinking about. However he quickly stood up mumbling some excuse about going to the bathroom and headed towards the house.

He found you sitting on a little couch with Gunnar in your lap reading a book. You were too focused on explaining the drawings on the pages to the kid to notice his presence. Elias stayed a couple seconds by the door in silence, not wanting to intrude in the sweet moment you were having. He couldn’t help but smile as he heard the sweet high pitch voice you used when talking to the little kid, how you’d smile and make a funny face at Gunnar, how he would laugh at you which only made both your smiles grow wider. If the other day he had thought you were pretty, today he was convinced you were beautiful.

Eventually you finished the book and Elias thought it was time to make his presence known before you notice he had been there the whole time and thought he was creeping on you or something. He was sure you already had a bad impression of him, no need to make it worse. He gently knocked on the door and your face shot up at him.

“Hey.” he said shyly walking into the room.

“Hi.” you replied as you got up with Gunnar still in your arms. The kid wrapped his arms around you and rested his face in your chest, it was clear he would fall asleep any moment from now.

“Can we talk?” Elias asked, not sure how to begin the conversation and a little afraid you’d blow him off.

“S-sure.” you replied a bit confused as to what he wanted to talk about. “But in a low voice, he’s really close to falling asleep.”

“Oh yeah sure.” he immediately lowered his tone to almost a whisper which you found cute. A small giggle escaped your lips.

“I’m Elias by the way.” he said, extending his hand but quickly putting it away and blushing when he realized you wouldn’t be able to shake it since you were holding the kid.

“Y/N. You’re Bo’s teammate, right? The one who thought I was kidnapping Gunnsey.” you added a smirk and arched brows, making his cheeks turn even redder. You were joking about it, that’s a good sign Elias though. Maybe you didn’t hate him.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk about. I’m so sorry.” he finally said, letting out a deep sigh. He had been beating himself up about it since that night some weeks ago and finally being able to apologize was like taking a huge weight off of his shoulders. You could tell.

“Don’t worry, it was just a misunderstanding. I mean if I saw a stranger basically running down a hall with one of my friend’s kids I’d think the worst too. You did nothing wrong Elias.” you reassured him. Yes at the moment you nearly had a heart attack and felt a bit of resentment towards that guy who thought you could even do something like that, but after all you didn’t lose your job and you could tell Elias genuinely regret everything that had happened.

“Still I shouldn’t have thought you were kidnaping a child, you don’t look like you’d do that.”

“Glad to know I look like a decent human being.”

“You do! I mean not that I thought you didn’t. I-I think you look really pretty- really decent!” Elias started rambling trying to correct himself but felt he was only making everything worse. However you found the blushing mess of a man in front of you actually really cute.

“Thanks Elias, you look really decent too.” you told him with a sweet smile that helped calm his nerves down. He beamed down and at you and held your gaze. The room went silent but it wasn’t awkward at all. At one point you could have swore his blue eyes had hypnotized you.

“Oh you put him to sleep.” Holly said, appearing suddenly next to you. Only then you noticed at some point in your conversation with Elias Gunnar had fallen asleep in your arms. You then proceeded to walk up to the little bed and tried to lay the sleeping kid as gently as possible to not wake him up.

“You should head to the yard with us, grab something to eat.”

“Are you sure? What if he wakes up and-”

“Don’t be silly, that’s why we have the baby monitor. Come on, Elias can present you to the rest of the team.” she said hooking her arms with yours and basically dragging you out of the room too quickly to notice Elias blushed cheeks and for him to notice yours.

Just like Holly said Elias introduced you to the rest of the team before moving an empty chair so you could sit next to him. You didn’t miss the way his friends looked at you two and smirked, but decided not to make a deal out of it, just boys being boys.

The rest of the afternoon was spent eating, talking and laughing; mostly with Elias. At first you were part of the group conversation, but eventually your bodies started slowly turning to the point you were basically facing each other and having a conversation of your own.

He told you about him, how long he had been teammates with Bo, his love for hockey, how he felt moving to the states; he even showed off a little telling you about his rookie year and how he won the Calder trophy. 

And you told him about yourself, what you were studying, how you started babysitting and a friend connected you with the Horvats. He listened to everything you said, no matter how boring and mundane it seemed to you. You weren’t traveling the country living your dream like him, but to him every single fact you told him about yourself was impressive. You genuinely felt heard which wasn’t something common, especially dealing with guys.

Gunnar stayed asleep for most of the time. Only once he woke up and when he did Holly insisted she would take care of it, that she missed her baby boy. But you knew she was just doing it so you could stay with Elias, and you internally thanked her for it.

You completely lost track of time and by the time you checked your phone's couldn't believe it was already almost evening.

“I should get going.” you announced getting up and the rest of the group booed.

“Come on it’s not even 6pm.” Jake said.

“I know, but I have an exam tomorrow and I should go over everything one last time.”

“Do you have a ride?” Holly asked.

“No but I’ll just take an uber-”

“Petey can drive you.” Jake proposed without even looking at his friend who was debating on whether to kill him or thank him.

“But he’s the designated driv-” Quinn started to say but shut up when Brock nudged him on the ribs with his elbow. It was embarrassingly obvious his friends were setting him up, but if it meant getting more times with you Elias didn’t mind. He’d deal with them later.

You looked at Elias who by now had stood up with you and was reaching for his keys on his pocket. “You really don’t have to.”

“Oh I was already thinking about leaving, don’t worry.” he reassured you but you were pretty sure the idea never crossed his mind till you have decided to leave.

Your apartment wasn’t far from the house so in a couple of minutes Elias was parking his car in front of the door of your building. Throughout the night a feeling started slowly growing inside of you. You could tell he was a genuinely nice guy, he apologized and spent the rest of the day getting to know you, genuinely interested in everything you told him. It was clear a connection was starting to form between the two of you and neither wanted it to stop.

“Thank you for the ride. You really didn’t have to.” you said once again, eyes stuck on the windshield.

“It’s the least I could do after the whole misunderstanding the other day.” he replied and the car fell into a comfortable silence. You knew it was time to say goodbye, but part of you wished you didn’t have to. Elias was thinking the exact same. He knew what he wanted, he wanted to see you again, but he couldn’t find the words and a part of him doubted if you were just being friendly and it was all in his head.

“Are you going to our next home game next friday?”

“Maybe, I don’t know if Holly and Bo will ask me to go with Gunssey.”

“I mean you could go by yourself …” he started to say and made a pause to look at you, gathering the courage he needed before adding: “to see me.”

“Would you like me to go see you?” you asked, finally turning your head to look at him.

“Yeah I’d really like that.” he replied without missing a beat. The smile that appeared in your face the moment you heard his words made every last bit of doubt disappear inside Elias.

He started to lean into you, heart beating fast on his chest, holding your gaze. You raised your hand gently cupping his cheek and bringing him even closer. His eyes went from yours to your lips and back to your eyes. You were so close you were basically breathing each other's breath. But when your lips were about to touch he stopped and whispered: “You still haven’t answered.”

“I’d love to-” you let out between giggles. He didn’t even let you finish and was already connecting his lips to yours, unable to hold himself back any longer.

His lips were soft against yours, but determinate, setting the rhythm. It was a shy kiss, your first one of many to come. At some point you took off your seat belts to be more comfortable, only prolonging the moment. You’d stop to catch your breath with your foreheads touching, but the second your eyes connected again, go back to kissing, like you couldn’t get enough.

“I should go in, people are gonna start wondering why there’s been a sports car parked in the front door for the last couple minutes.” you joked, definitely pulling away from him but not daring to look at him because you knew if you did you were never getting out of the car. He leaned back on his seat, still in disbelief of everything that had happened. You looked at him one last time before you were about to get out of the car, and decided one last kiss wouldn’t hurt nobody.

He was surprised at first when he felt your hand sneak to the back of his neck, but smiled again into the kiss once he felt your lips connect to his. It took every bit of self control you had to pull away again and get off the car before.

“Friday then?” you said peeking your head through the open window of the car.

He nodded before adding: “And then we could go out? Have some dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.” You didn’t even try to hide the smile on your face.

“See you on friday then.”

“Goodbye Petey.” you said and he chuckled at how you had already started using the nickname his teammates had put him. He loved how it sounded coming from you.

“Goodbye Y/N.”

You turned around and started making your way to the building and Elias waited till you were in to drive away. You entered your apartment and let yourself fall on the couch, a loud chuckle scaping your lips just thinking about everything that had happened today. That bubbling feeling sill strong inside you, unable to take your mind off of the cute hockey player who couldn’t tell a nanny from a kidnapper.

-

i’ll tag those who asked for it and those who showed some interest on the fic (if i tagged and you didn’t just ignore this sorry)

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[iamanartichoke]

I wrote a Thing. It’s extremely long. I’d prefer it not be reblogged; I wrote this for my own catharsis and would prefer it not be circulated, bc of Reasons. 

I changed my mind, okay to reblog. <3 

Under a cut for (extreme, did I mention?) length. 

So I got about 12 minutes of sleep last night, as you do, and around 3am or so I found myself - out of sheer curiosity - going down a meta hole of Ragnarok discourse, trying to figure out where this "satisfying redemption arc" for Loki happened. (I mean, there's a lot of things I would like to figure out, but I started there.) Because I could. 

Basically I was looking for meta that went into detail about how Loki was redeemed in a satisfactory way. The ‘satisfactory’  is an important word here bc there is a redemption arc in the film, in that Loki starts off the film as an antagonist (kinda) to Thor and he ends the film as an ally to Thor, standing at Thor's side. In that sense, yes, there's a redemption arc. I didn't find much (and I had no idea how much people just despise Ragnarok "antis" [I really dislike that word] but that's another topic [that I don't particularly want to get into, tbh]) but I did find some. I read what I could find, and I read it open-mindedly, and overall I came away feeling like, okay, there are some valid points being made here and I can kinda see where they're coming from.

But it was a bit (a lot) like -- flat. Idk. The best comparison I can think of is that it’s like if a literature class read, I don't know, The Yellow Wallpaper for an assignment, and some of the students came away from it feeling like it was a creepy story about a woman slowly driving herself insane, and the other students came away from it incensed at the oppression and infantilization of women in the late 19th century -

- and neither side is wrong, but the former is a very surface-level reading and the latter isn't (bc it stems from looking at why she drives herself insane, why she was prescribed 'rest' in the first place, the context of what women could and couldn't do back then, etc; basically, a bit more work has to go into it). 

[Note: I am not disparaging the quality of The Yellow Wallpaper. At all. It’s just the first relatively well-known story that popped into my head.]

In this sense, I can see the argument for Loki's redemption arc, but I don't think it's a very good argument. Not invalid, but not great.

I mean, for example, I think the most consistent argument I found variations of re: Loki's redemption is that Ragnarok shows Loki finally taking responsibility for his bad behaviour and misdeeds. This includes recognizing that his actions were fueled from a place of self-hatred and a desire to self-destruct in addition to bringing destruction on others. That he probably feels awkward and regretful of these things and doesn't know how to act around Thor, but he figures it out by the end, and decides that returning to Asgard is the best way to show that he's ready to make amends. His act of bringing the Statesman to Asgard is an apology. He allies himself with Thor and ends up in a better place, both narratively (united with Thor once again) and mentally (having taken responsibility and made amends for his past).

And setting aside that he had already made amends by sacrificing his life in TDW (and also setting aside that the argument is made that Loki redeems himself in IW by sacrificing himself to Thanos but if that's the case, wouldn't that imply that he hadn't achieved redemption in Ragnarok or else there would be no need to achieve it again in IW? Or, if you think he did achieve redemption in Ragnarok, then what the fuck did he give his life in IW for? What was his motivation there, and why did the narrative not make it clearer? I digress.) 

- setting aside those two factors, I think this is a very fair argument. Loki is fueled by self-hatred, and he does want to self-destruct, and he does want to inflict that pain on others as well (particularly Thor). No lies detected here. 

However, I also need to know where that self-hatred and desire for destruction (toward himself and others) comes from and for that, we need to go back to Thor 1.

Thor 1. 

Loki starts Thor 1 out as "a clenched fist with hair," to borrow a quote from the Haunting of Hill House (that I tucked away in my mental box of Lovely Things bc it says so much so very simply). He's very used to bottling everything up, pushing it down; he slinks around behind the scenes, pulling the strings to this plot or that. He's "always been one for mischief," but the narrative implies that the coronation incident is the first time Loki's done anything truly terrible. And it all immediately pretty much goes to shit, so Loki spends the rest of the movie frantically juggling all these moving pieces while trying to seem as if he's got it all under control, every step of the way. That's how I view his actions. 

But I always come back to that quote where Kenneth Branaugh tells Tom, of the scene in the vault, "This is where the thin steel rod that's been holding your mind together snaps." In other words this is where Loki discovering he's Jotun is just one thing too many. He can't take it. But though the rod snaps, his descent isn't a nosedive. It's a tumble. As the story progresses, the clenched fist starts to loosen, the muscles are flexed in unfamiliar ways (that feel kinda good, after being stiff for so long), and it culminates with the hand opening completely and shaking itself out. All of that repression, that self-hatred, that rage and jealousy just explodes so that, by the time the bifrost scene happens, Loki's already hit bottom. It's not just about proving his worthiness to Odin. He wants to hurt Thor, too; he, essentially, throws a tantrum. (That's right, I said tantrum.) 

(Note: The word 'tantrum’ has negative connotations bc we normally equate it with a toddler stamping their feet and screaming in the aisle when their parent won't buy them the toy they want. But in itself, the word tantrum isn't infantalizing. It's an "emotional outburst, an uncontrolled explosion of anger and frustration" [paraphrasing from dictionary.com]. That's exactly what happens here [and why Tom called Loki's actions a massive tantrum, but people took that to mean Tom agreed it was childish whereas I doubt Tom meant it that way]).

He's been pushed past his limit, and he does bad things. He does really shitty things. He hurts Thor, he hurts his family. I'm pretty sure he knows this all along so this isn't, like, some revelation further down the line that "hey, those things I did were probably kinda bad." He got the memo already. 

Ragnarok 

Fast forward to Ragnarok, and we're introduced to a version of Loki who's had 4ish years to sit with everything that's happened. To sit with it and not do much else. The rawness of it has faded, and now it seems as though it's just become a thing, like when you move through life aware of your childhood traumas and have more or less just accepted them (and you probably share a lot of really funny depression memes on Facebook, which is kinda the equivalent of Loki's play, but that's probably just me). 

Loki has, more or less, chilled out. He seems more bored than anything else; he's been masquerading as Odin for longer than he ever planned or intended to, so he's more or less ended up hanging out, letting Asgard mind its own business, and entertaining himself with silly plays. This is the version that starts out the movie as an antagonist to Thor - a version that is, arguably, in a much different place [and is a much milder threat] than the version who originally did those Bad Things. 

And of course Thor is still mad at him, and of course they're going to butt heads, because that's what they do (and Thor's grievances are genuine, I’ll add, bc it's not really his fault he assumed Loki faked his death, nor can he be blamed for being pissed about Odin).

One argument framed this version of Loki as being a person who is facing the awkwardness of coming out of a dark place, which is fair. If we're going to frame his actions in Thor 1 as a tantrum, then Ragnarok would be the part where the toddler has been taken home, possibly has had some lunch and a juice box, and is now watching cartoons. They're over the tantrum, and would probably feel pretty silly about it if they weren't, yknow, toddlers. They probably can't remember why they even wanted that toy so badly. If they're a little older and self-aware, they might even be embarrassed for having melted down.

Like the word tantrum, this feeling isn't a thing limited to toddlers. I know I've had a few epic meltdowns as a grown ass adult, and I know I always feel deeply embarrassed afterwards - like, want to crawl into a hole and die. I've said things I can't take back. Adolescents and teenagers throw tantrums, mentally ill people throw tantrums, adults throw tantrums (I mean, my god, look at all the videos of Karens having screaming meltdowns - screaming! - over having to wear masks in order to shop at stores). Humans throw tantrums. And usually, after the feelings have been let out and the tantrum has passed, humans feel pretty regretful and awkward and embarrassed about whatever they did and said in the midst of their meltdown. 

I get all of that and agree it's valid and that Loki probably feels it. By the time Ragnarok happens, Loki's had some time to reflect and think hmm, yeah, probably could've handled that one a lot better. The argument further goes that in order to navigate this awkward period, Loki must come to terms with what he's done, acknowledge that some things can't be unsaid or undone, and begin to make amends. Supposedly, some people feel that Loki becomes a better person because he does "own" everything he did wrong and, even though he feels like a jackass (paraphrasing), he sets that aside to become a become a better person by choosing to help Thor and Asgard at the end. 

Thus, the overall arc goes like this. Loki, Thor's jealous little brother, 

throws a tantrum of epic proportions bc Reasons 

continues to act badly and make things even worse (Avengers) 

has to face consequences for his actions (prison sentence) 

ends up with a stretch of time in which he's free to contemplate and chill out 

feels embarrassed and awkward about how he's behaved

sees an opportunity to make up for it and decides to take it 

helps Thor, saves the day, and ends the film a better person. 

Redemption achieved.

None of this is wrong. The film supports it. It's a fair interpretation. But it leaves. out. so. much.

To circle all the way back around Loki being "a clenched fist with hair," and his actions stemming from his self-hatred, you have to ask - how did he get that way? He didn't end up with all this self-hatred on accident. Generally, one isn't born despising themselves, it's a learned behavior. (I realize chemical imbalances are a thing, obviously, as I have Mental Shit myself, but for argument's sake I'm assuming that's not the case with Loki [at this point in time]). 

Where did Loki learn it? From his family, from his surroundings, from his culture. We see examples of these microaggressions in the first, like, twenty minutes of the movie - a guard openly laughs at Loki's magic after Thor makes a joke about it (the tone of the conversation implies that Thor "jokes" like this often) and though Loki does the snake thing, the guard faces no real consequences. Thor doesn't acknowledge that anything went amiss. Not much later, on their way to Jotunheim, Loki's barely gotten two words out to Heimdall before Thor cuts him off, steps in front of him, and takes charge. Loki doesn't look annoyed at this; he looks resigned. 

Then, for absolutely no reason at all, Volstagg decides to make a jab at Loki ("silver tongue turned to lead?") just because he can. The ease with which he makes this comment and the way that no one else blinks an eye at it implies that this isn't out of the norm. And Loki doesn't react, not really. In the deleted version, he delivers a particularly nasty comeback but he delivers it under his breath, without intending Volstagg to hear it. In the final version, he simply says nothing, though his expression can be read as hurt or stung. Either way, the audience sees an example of Loki being walked all over by Thor and his friends and bottling up his reactions instead of standing up for himself. 

Microaggressions matter. They are mentally and emotionally damaging. They hurt. The implication that this is not unusual treatment for Loki means that Loki's probably gone through this for most of his life. It's like the equivalent of being, I don't know, twenty two and you're the friend who has to walk behind the others when the sidewalk isn't wide enough, and it's been that way since the first day of kindergarten. At this point, you're used to it, but that doesn't make it hurt any less when the jabs come seemingly out of nowhere, for no reason other than to make you feel bad.

(I personally identify a lot with this bc I experienced passive bullying in social settings for years. I was the 'doesn't fit on the sidewalk' friend; I hung around with people who'd pretend to be my friend and would be more or less nice to my face, but would laugh at me and make fun of me behind my back for whatever reasons. And often there'd be the random jabs at me, things that would come out of nowhere to smack me in the face, followed by the fake laugh and “just kidding!" so that I couldn't even get upset without being made to feel like I was overreacting and couldn't take a joke. I'd deal with this socially, particularly in middle school when girls are their most vicious, and then I'd go home and, because I was the only girl with a lot of brothers and because boys are mean and because I am who I am, the dynamic was that my brothers would just endlessly roast me to my face and sometimes it was a "just kidding!" thing, where I was the only one not laughing. But that’s beside the point; my point is that microaggressions, passive bullying, and consistent invalidation are harmful and that shit stays with you into adulthood.) 

So, yes, Loki needs to be held responsible for his misdeeds, and it's valid to say that he recognizes those misdeeds and wants to make amends. I have never disagreed with that. But the problem with this interpretation is that it lets every single other character who contributed to Loki's self-hatred and mental breakdown (let's just call a spade a spade here, that's what it was; he was broken psychologically) get off scot-free.

First of all,

Odin is not held accountable for instilling in the princes a mentality of Asgard first, everyone is beneath us but Jotuns are benath us the most, they are literal monsters. He is not held accountable for pitting his sons against one another (even if it was unintentional, he still did it) with "you were both born to be kings but only one of you can rule" being the general tone of their upbringing. He's not held accountable for his favoritism toward Thor.

Frigga is not held accountable for deferring to Odin both in supporting the above things and in keeping the truth of Loki's origins a secret while doing nothing to discourage the "monsters" narrative. 

Thor is not held accountable for his own tendency of taking Loki for granted (he assumes Loki will come to Jotunheim, he oversteps Loki constantly, “know your place,” etc.. He grants his implicit permission for Loki to be treated as the sidewalk friend in their “group,” a group which is loyal to and takes their cues from Thor as Thor continues to do nothing in his brother's defense).

[Note: Wanting Thor to be held accountable for things he's done wrong isn't vilifying him. Acknowledging that Thor benefited from Odin's favoritism and his own place as Crown Prince doesn't negate Thor also being raised in an abusive environment. I don't think anyone's saying that or, if they have, it's not something I agree with.]

Furthermore, 

Odin is not held accountable for his cruelty in disowning Loki (”your birthright was to die” is never going to be forgotten, speaking of people saying things that can't be unsaid or taken back) and in sentencing Loki to a severe prison sentence (life! only bc Frigga wouldn't let him execute Loki) for crimes that are no worse than what Odin himself has committed (around which the entire plot of Ragnarok revolves! Colonialism (and subjugation) is wrong is, like, a major theme [that people rush to praise, even] here). 

Thor is also never held accountable for not trying harder to understand what made Loki snap (fair enough, he didn't have a ton of time after returning from Earth, but certainly he had lots of time to sit around reflecting while Loki was being tortured by Thanos for a year). He knows Loki is "not himself" and "beyond reason" and accepts it at face value; he questions it once and then lets it go. He's fine with assuming Loki's just lost his mind, and isn't that a shame. (I realize I'm simplifying Thor's emotions but my point is that Thor could've tried harder to figure out that Loki was being influenced and/or not acting completely autonomously.) 

Thor is also never held accountable for - if not facing consequences for his own slaughter of Jotuns - then at least addressing why Loki can't kill an entire race even though Thor tried to do that, like, two days ago. (Granted, it’s difficult to understand how Thor got from Point A ("let's finish them together, Father!") to Point B (this is wrong!), but that failing belongs to Thor 1 (which is not, by the way, a perfect movie).

The interpretation that Loki is fully redeemed because he took responsibility for his actions, returned to Asgard, and allied himself with Thor to save their people is all well and good - but, why is Loki the only one here who has to take responsibility for their actions? 

What about all the loose threads in his story? 

For example, how did he get from: 

Point A (believing himself a literal monster, having a complete mental breakdown, getting tortured and further traumatized after that, etc) 

to 

Point B (Hey, yknow what would be fun? I'm going to write and direct a play about how I heroically died to save Thor and Jane, and I'll go ahead and have Odin say he accepts me and has always loved me. I'm going to do these things because Odin never said this in real life and instead of acknowledging my sacrifice, Thor left my body in the dirt, so someone has to validate what I've done right and that someone might as well be me. And hey, while I'm at it, I'm going to control the narrative on revealing myself as Jotun to Asgard, instead of living in fear of it being found out, and I'm going to do it in a way that they have to sympathize with me and revere me in death, bc they never bothered to do so when I was alive. And Matt Damon should play me, also.) 

to 

Point C (Yeah, I guess I feel kinda awkward about that whole tantrum thing, also I should help Thor and support him being king.)

? 

The answers to these questions are handwaved and the audience takes that to mean they don't matter. Furthermore, framing Loki's redemption around an act of service (more or less) to Thor makes Loki's redemption about Thor. Does Loki make this decision for the sake of Thor and of Asgard, or does he make it for himself? It's not super clear to me, and I think arguments can be made for both. Which, again, is fine, but - whatever.

If we're going to collectively agree, as a fandom, that Loki is complex, that he's morally gray, that he's worthy of redemption and therefore arguably a good person who's done bad things, then why is it asking too much to have it acknowledged that Thor (also a good person who's done bad things) played a part in Loki's downfall and has shit to apologize for, too? Bc one can only assume the reason is that you're taking a very gray concept and making it black and white by saying Loki has to apologize and make amends because he is the villain, and Thor doesn't because he is the hero (and it's his movie). And it's lazy.

This is where the crux of the issue lands. There's more than one valid interpretation, yes. And no two people (or groups of people, or whatever) are going to consume and therefore interpret or analyze the source material in the same way. I think I saw a post recently about how studies have been done on this, in fact. But, there is a lot going on under the surface that tends to get overlooked when exploring Loki's redemption arc in Ragnarok, as far as I can see, and that’s why I don’t consider it satisfactory. 

[I did read similar arguments regarding other issues that are often debated ('debated'), like Loki's magic and/or being underpowered, whether or not Loki's betrayal of Thor was the natural outcome of the situation on Sakaar or not, whether Thor actually gets closure with Odin [if he does, how does he reconcile the father he's idolized with the imperialistic conqueror he's discovered? Why doesn't he hold Odin responsible for covering up Hela's existence and the threat of her return, especially as he knew he was nearing the end of his life? Is Thor's "I'm not as strong as you" meant to imply that he acknowledges those shortcomings of Odin's and that he's okay with them, or that he's just overlooking them, or is he not okay with them but didn't have the chance to get into it bc he was in the middle of battle? T'Challa confronted his father on his wrongdoings in Black Panther; could Thor not have had at least one line that was confrontational enough to establish where he stands as opposed to this gray middle? Can someone explain to me how any of this equates to Thor gaining closure? Please?) but obviously I'm not going to go into all of them (well, I tried not to), bc this mammoth post has gone on long enough (I may not even post this tbh)]

- but my overall point to this entire thing is that when I say I'm critical of Ragnarok bc it's flawed, that Loki's arc was neither complete nor satisfactory, that many things went unaddressed and, due to all of these things, I do not think Ragnarok is a very good movie nor a very cohesive movie, this is where I'm coming from. I have not seen anything to change my mind to the contrary. 

But I am not saying that anyone satisfied with it is wrong, or shouldn't have the interpretation that they do. I'm not vilifying Thor in order to lift Loki up, just acknowledging that Thor is arguably just as flawed as Loki without the stigma of being Designated Villain. I think a lot of these arguments get overlooked or dismissed, and that's fine, but it doesn't make the people who do engage with them hateful, or bitter, or trying to excuse Loki's crimes, or feeling like redemption means that Loki's crimes should be erased rather than reconciled. 

And sure, yes, perhaps we are expecting too much and exploring all of these themes (or wanting them explored) means that somehow we think it should be Loki's movie (we don't). Loki is a supporting character, but he's still a character. And the movie itself doesn't have to delve into all these things - no one's saying that. (At least, I'm not.) We just want acknowledgement, from the narrative, that this stuff was an Issue. 

This could have been accomplished with - 

Some dialogue closer to the novelization (and original script), like Thor and Loki both acknowledging the harm they've done one another and their kingdom due to their Feels.

 A single line of Thor confronting Odin, or even asking "Why?" 

A narrative acknowledgement that Odin did both Thor and Loki dirty (”I love you, my sons” isn't an apology, because it doesn't acknowledge either that there's been wrong-doing or express regret for having done the wrong in the first place). 

A little bit more nuance in the way Loki treats his own past (ie, instead of flippantly telling the story of his suicide attempt, maybe - if it must be flippant - talk about getting blasted in the face with Hawkeye's arrow or sailing through to Svartalfheim [And in that moment, I sang ta-daaaa!]) or whatever. 

I recognize that wanting full, in-depth exploration on all of these issues regarding a supporting character is probably too much to ask or expect - but, I also feel like, if you're going to be professionally writing a narrative (or rewriting/improvising, as it were), it's not too much to ask that a little more care be taken in regards to all of the layers that have contributed to said supporting character's downfall and subsequent redemption arc. I don't think that's an unreasonable thing to want. 

And maybe if there had been more nuance and continuity in how these things were portrayed on screen (ie, if TW had actually done as good a job as his stans think he did), the fandom wouldn't have divided and conquered itself over which "version" of the same character is more valid and whether or not the film did its best to close out a trilogy (not start a new one), to the point where everyone in this fandom space makes navigating it feel like walking through a minefield. 

But, I mean 

(Again, please don’t reblog if possible.) 

Edit: Okay to reblog. <3 

[yoditorian]

a law divine - 1

soulmate au!ezra/reader

this is solely the fault of one single anon who called out something i put in the tags and now it’s a whole universe but you know what?? it’s the love of my life. anon i hope u see this 💛 i also just want to say i know there isn’t A Lot of soulmate talk in this one but it’s important for the narrative okay bear with me

playlist // series masterlist // main masterlist 

word count: 7.2k (a Big Boy)

warnings: swearing, my usual allusions to smut bc we keep things neutral in this house, brief food/alcohol mentions, 18+ please no babies

It might be the ugliest ship you’ve ever seen.

Not that you’re really one to judge, the one you charter out when you’re running point on a job is a mismatched patchwork of rusty panels held together with electrical tape and hope. If there’s the slightest possibility you might be a teeny tiny bit disappointed in it, it’s only because agency jobs are usually a little cushier. A little safer for once. You could do with a bit safer. 

Your family might prefer a lot safer, but you’d sooner take your chances in open space without a suit than take a job working scrapyards. At least risking your life on digs gets a decent payout.

“You the danger mouse?” 

It’s not an accent you hear often on the Pug, the majority of the station’s population is human, but you turn with a smile to meet the bright purple eyes of the Thanne. Armour-strong scales and sharp teeth, but he seems kind and mild mannered despite his clear predatory biology. You nod as you readjust the pack on your shoulders.

“I’m Iras.” He holds his hand out to you. A distinctly human gesture made a little awkward by the sharp edged scales and extra fingers, but you shake it nonetheless. He’s your captain for this job after all. You wonder where a Thanne became so well versed in human custom, the species as a whole tend to keep to themselves instead of branching out into the universe like so many others, until his crew members appear on the boarding ramp.

Iras gestures to each of them in turn. Summer, a blonde woman with dark skin and a kind smile, and Milo, an older man with a swirling tattoo above his left eyebrow that matches the navy blue of his eyes.

“Is it just us?” You ask. You could have sworn there was a fifth name on the manifest you’d been forwarded, but teams are always subject to change. You just hope you’ll have your own room.

“Ezra always leaves things down to the wire, he’ll show up right before we’re due to push out.” Summer laughs fondly, throwing an arm around your shoulders like she’s known you her whole life. You’re usually a little wary with brand new teams but the way she’s already chatting away makes you feel at home. The last agency job you were sent on got dicey, fast, somehow you’re sure the same won’t happen with this lot.

“There he is.” Milo leans out of the ship to point out into the docks. 

You turn to see a man sauntering through the throngs of harvesters towards the ship, and it’s odd. The rest of the crowd seems to melt away as he closes the distance, even the weight of Summer’s arm on your shoulders feels not quite there. You take the moment to study him. He looks all business with his dark hair and his charcoal grey shirt and the neat pack slung over his shoulder, but his pants and boots have seen better days and the streak of blonde at his temple makes you smile. It’s nice to finally be with a crew without a single stuffy addition. 

“It’s not often I get to congregate with like-minded souls.” He grins when he’s in earshot, a flash of something feline in his eyes. You don’t want to admit that you like it.

“Like-minded?” You tilt your head at him as you follow Summer up the ramp and into the ship. Ezra slips in behind you just as it starts to raise. Just like the others said.

“We’ve all got the same death wish, Sunspot.”

The launch, at least, is smooth despite the beaten up ship and it’s only about twenty minutes before you’re far enough from the Pug to punch a lane to the next system over. At least it isn’t far, there’s only a day between now and making planetfall. Somehow, you’re not surprised to find that it’s more of a barracks and bunk beds situation rather than each having a private quarters. Last time you were hired by the agency, you definitely got your own room. But it gives you a chance to chat with the others as you unpack. 

Milo explains the air isn’t breathable, so he’ll need to double check to make sure everyone’s filters are running at capacity. But he reassures you that it’s a comfortable temperature, so it’s good to know you won’t be sweltering in your suits or freezing your asses off. 

You pick the bed on the wall beside the door, taking out a few essentials from your pack and tucking the rest safely away in the storage compartment. Just as he did back at the docks, Ezra is the last to find his way to the room. He settles his things on the bunk opposite yours because the universe has it out for you, apparently. 

“Did I hear one of them call you the danger mouse?” 

You struggle not to roll your eyes at the nickname awarded to anyone stupid enough to do your job, although admittedly he doesn’t sound like he knows why. You offer him your name instead and pretend the way he rolls it around in his mouth doesn’t send a shock right down to your bones. You’re not in the habit of sleeping with colleagues, not until the job’s over at least. But you’d be lying if you said you’re not tempted.

“They call me in when a site’s unstable but too profitable to close.” You answer, tugging your sleeves up as the climate control settles to a comfortable temperature.

Ezra raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue, and you pull off your gloves. They land on your thin mattress as you hold your hands out between you. Not even the slightest twitch.

“Steadiest hands on the Pug.”

“So they are.” There’s a challenge in his voice that threatens to send a shiver up your spine. It’s clear he doesn’t doubt your skill in the field, but the return of that glint in his eye from the docks has you wondering exactly what else he’s thinking about as he studies your hands. It’s not hard to work out.

It’s been so long since you had to travel out of the system, you forgot how much inter-system lanes can fuck with the human brain. You’re half asleep for the thirty minutes you spend sorting your things for the morning, barely enough energy to change into the sweatpants and ratty t-shirt you call pyjamas, before you crawl into bed and settle down almost immediately.

Only you don’t get to sleep for as long as you’d like. The rest of the crew seem to have filtered in after you, the shift of sheets and snores float through the dimmed room. Except, it’s not just that. There’s shuffling and bed creaking from further down the line of bunks. A hushed giggle sounds in the silence and-

 Oh god. Oh no.

They’re not. They can’t be, they- they are. 

You’re very awake all of a sudden, eyes wide as you keep them firmly on the ceiling and wishing as hard as you can for an alarm to start beeping or something. Anything to get whoever’s banging Summer to stop. A deep voice hushes her when she laughs again. Iras. Knowing is somehow worse. The mechanics- you don’t even want to think about it. 

You turn onto your side slowly, but loud enough to hint that maybe they should find somewhere else for their escapades, and fold your pillow around your head as a kind of makeshift set of earmuffs. Whether they’ve quieted down or it muffles the noise, you’re not sure, but it seems to have worked enough. You catch Ezra’s eye in the almost-darkness, much in the same position as he holds his pillow over his own ears. 

It’s embarrassing for the both of you, even as you share a conspiratorial look. But somehow, it’s less awkward to have to hear Iras and Summer going at it when you know he’s awake. He winces when a particularly loud squeak echoes through the room, and it takes everything in you not to bust out laughing. You fall asleep again eventually, making faces at Ezra in the dark until neither of you can keep your eyes open anymore.

You’re surprisingly well rested come the morning, when the whole ship jolts as it punches into the system and you’re almost thrown out of bed. So much so that it’s easy to forget that you woke up at all until you shuffle into the main living compartment of the ship. One of the crates by the wall has been cracked open, Milo hands out granola bars for breakfast.

Summer and Iras are sitting in the same chair, feeding each other, and it might be cute if you’d been awake longer and hadn’t been woken up by their activities in the middle of the night. You slump into a free chair,  face twisted in disgust for a moment. You’re pretty sure nobody else sees until Ezra laughs and drops into the seat beside you. They’re nice people, from how they took you as a friend immediately, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s just a bit much for your perpetually single heart to take. 

“It’s a week-long job, they can’t take a break?” You watch as they finally pry themselves apart to start, you know, actually working. But not without a genuinely gross kiss that definitely toes the line of public decency. Suddenly the half-eaten bar in your hand isn’t all that appealing anymore.

“Soulmates take no breaks, Sunspot. I’m sure yours would be hard pressed to be anywhere but in bed with you whenever they get the chance.” Ezra winks and it takes you a moment to remember where you are. A glance at the pair makes your new knowledge obvious, the way they seem to be touching, even now, on opposite sides of the room. 

“I’m not sure I believe in all that red string stuff.”

Once the ship is safely landed a short walk from the site, the days you spend digging pass with ease. The deposit is a decent size, it takes all five of you to cover it completely, and the payout should be enough to keep you all comfortable for a little while even with the agency’s cut. The crew around you fill the time enough that you barely notice the week coming to a close. 

Summer sings in the mornings as she cleans her equipment and readies her pack for the day. Miles talks gently to the cells as though they can hear him, shushing them any time he worries a gem might corrupt. Iras seems to have a secret superpower when it comes to the ration packs, they always taste better when he’s the one on lunch duty. And Ezra spends the afternoons regaling you all with tales of ancient beasts, laying eggs that fossilise into the very gems you’re harvesting. Although you’re not sure how true they are. 

You almost get through the whole dig without a hitch. Almost. But aurelac is a tricky thing, even a change in the wind can turn a site for the worst. You’re all sitting around at lunch when it happens. The telltale smoke wafts up into the air for no visible reason at all and although you’ve collected enough to cover the quota, you’d still rather not lose viable gems.

“Get to what you came here for.” Iras gestures in your direction and you dive into the pit head first.

You’re not even sure you stop to think as you follow the harvesting steps at lightning speed, salvaging half the corrupted cells before someone tugs you out by the collar of your suit. The rest of the site starts to smoke the moment you’re out of range, spitting and hissing and rendering the rest of the gems worthless. 

“Danger mouse indeed.” Ezra chuckles over the comm system, hand still fisted in the fabric of your suit. For once, the nickname makes you smile.

While you all go your separate ways after the ship has docked back on the Pug, Summer makes you all promise to meet later at a club you’ve only heard of in your friends’ messy night out stories. Still, you pinky swear when she holds her hand out to you and try to remember if you have a single item in your wardrobe that’ll pass as club attire. Or at least something that isn’t so worn there are holes in it. 

Even if it’s a song he knows, there’s no chance that Ezra could recognise it with the volume cranked so high through the cheap speaker that everything but the beat is distorted. Still, it doesn’t stop people from dancing. 

He’s a little late, as usual, but he doesn’t need to worry as Iras appears behind him and claps a hand on his shoulder, pointing to a booth across the room where Milo is looking increasingly uncomfortable.

It doesn’t take long for Ezra to spot you and Summer in the middle of the dance floor, as he follows Iras around the edge of the space to the booth Milo’s claimed. You’re both more jumping than dancing, yelling the unintelligible lyrics of the song into each other's faces. He can’t hear your breathless laughter as Summer spins you in a circle, smile wide and bright, but he can feel it in his ribs. The drums of the song kick in at the same time the swirling lights of the club light you up like some kind of celestial being, just as you catch his eye through the crowd. And everyone else disappears. The rest of the world, rest of the universe, fades into the background. Just like they did the first time he saw you, glaring suspiciously at the ship on the docks.

Summer’s dragging you back to the table when the song comes to a close, the both of you out of breath and laughing, and Ezra has to try desperately to remember how to speak when he watches a little bead of sweat slide down the side of your neck. And stop himself from just licking a line straight up it. His silent suffering only increases when Milo holds out a shot of the most potent alcohol the Pug has to offer and you down it without so much as a flinch, winking at him when you return the glass to the table for good measure. 

Milo calls it a night only an hour later, clearly only having braved the crowds of the club to celebrate the job. Summer and Iras are tangled in each other on the dancefloor, or the booth, as they keep the shots coming. You, at least, decide to keep your wits about you, declining every drink after the one Milo had handed you. Nobody’s going to fuck with a Thanne, even in as seedy a club as this, so you don’t worry about Summer as she gets sloppier and sloppier. But there’s no spiky non-human boyfriend looking out for you down here, it’s just you and the knife you keep at your hip.

You pull yourself from the dance floor, eyes tracking the room for the missing member of your party, until you feel a set of eyes on you from above. Ezra’s leaning on the bannister of the stairs, his unflinching gaze set solely on you. And you can’t help but smile. You follow him up to the mezzanine without hesitation when he glances upwards and back to you. The buzz of the shot has mostly faded from your veins, replaced by something much more dangerous by the way he’s looking at you. The way he’s looked at you since you met him.

It’s not hard to spot your friends from up here, leaning over the barrier with Ezra to people watch. He crafts stories about every stranger who catches his eye. The man hunched over the bar in a beaten up jacket, the waitress who fiddles with her necklace any time her hands aren’t occupied, the pair of lovers tucked away in the dark corner on the other side of the mezzanine. You find yourself sliding closer to him the more he talks, wrapped up in the warmth of his voice even in the rundown club. Your shoulder knocks into his as you mindlessly bop to the music and listen to his made up stories. Utterly enchanted. It’s hard to remember a time when you felt this way with anybody, if you ever did at all. To tell the truth, it’s hard to remember anyone before Ezra. And neither of you have even made a move yet.

He's got his arms braced on the barrier, and you find yourself lifting the one closest to you so you can slip in between them. Surrounded on all sides and you couldn’t feel more comfortable. To his credit, he doesn’t falter in his vivid storytelling about the group now settled in the booth your crew had claimed earlier, not even a stutter as you turn in his arms to face him. He’s decided they’re here to celebrate the beginning of a new job, rather than a successful harvest. His eyes flick to you for the barest moment, enough to notice yours are firmly focused on the way his lips move around his words, before searching the club below for another story. Another way to keep his mind and mouth occupied so he doesn’t accidentally admit all the sinful things he wants to do to you when you press your ass up against him like that. 

“Ezra.”

He shouldn’t be able to hear you over the music, but you’re nose to nose and he’d be hard pressed to ignore the way you practically purr his name. He’s expecting you to make another flirty comment in that voice that sends his mind reeling into all manner of indecent places the same way you have been all night.

“Can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t expect you to just outright ask him. 

“Yeah.” Yeah. Hell of a time for his eloquence to fail, not that it matters anyway. You’re on him the moment he stops speaking.

It’s like the sun explodes inside him, the way his stomach bottoms out the second your lips touch his. There’s nothing soft about it, not the way he might have imagined there would be. If he’d been so bold as to let himself imagine what kissing you might be like. You’re all warmth and heat and you still taste a little bit like the shot you’d thrown back earlier, and he finds himself falling. Not that Ezra minds, he hopes his parachute never opens if it means you’ll keep kissing him like this. 

You let your fingers roam under his jacket, twist themselves in the thin fabric of his t-shirt, and you sigh into his mouth. God, you knew he’d be good at this. His hands leave a trail of starlight as they trace over your body, never quite choosing a place to rest. They start to settle on your shoulders, only to skim down your arms and squeeze harshly on your waist, to play along the strip of skin he finds just underneath the hem of your shirt, to grip harder than he might mean to onto the meat of your ass through your pants. You gasp, break the kiss for barely a moment, and stop his apology in its tracks. 

He doesn’t protest when you walk him backwards, still groping at each other like it’s just the two of you in the whole club. Ezra only groans when his back hits the wall and you push even closer into him, as if there was even any space left for air between your bodies already. He’s not about to complain. He could kiss you for a thousand years and it still wouldn’t be enough. It’’ll never be enough, not for a soul as hungry as his. You pull back too soon, far too soon, and it takes a solid minute for his brain to kick in and break the vice grip he still has a little too low for the public eye.

Oh, that look on your face. He’s in trouble.

“Where are you off to?” Ezra asks, flushed and breathless, a hand stretched halfway out to where you’re backing toward the stairs.

“Home,” You say with a sly smile, “You coming?”

He can’t push off the wall fast enough. 

You don’t live far from the club, a ten minute walk at the most, but Ezra manages to make it a solid twenty with the way he keeps pulling you to him. Not that you’re about to complain. You’ve been waiting a week to let him get his hands on you. At the press of his lips on your neck, the shudder it sends down your spine, you wonder if part of you has been waiting even longer than that. 

You’re trying, desperately, to type in the keycode to your apartment. If Ezra could calm down with the grabby hands, you might have gotten it right straight away. 

“No roommates?” He asks, kissing along your shoulder, and you take the temporary reprieve to kick your brain into gear and remember the fucking numbers. 

“Hugo won’t be too upset if I make him sleep on the couch.” 

The door slides back into the wall to reveal a dark apartment, a strip of light from the hall falling on a very orange cat. He stares at you for a second, clearly not particularly pleased that he’s been so rudely roused from a nap, before he settles back to sleep stretched out on the couch cushions. Hugo. Ezra is silently relieved that the roommate is just a cat, he’s not sure he’s got the self control to stay quiet tonight. Or to make sure you do. 

You waste no time once you gesture for Ezra to walk in ahead of you, flicking the switch on the wall to slide the door shut and pulling him back to your lips. He doesn’t hesitate to crowd you up against the cold metal. 

Although you could devour each other until the closest sun explodes and swallows the station whole, Ezra has to break away. To think, to breathe, to tease you a little about the moan he just swallowed from you. But you beat him to it.

“Gotta catch your breath?” The smile on your face threatens to make his knees buckle, and with you pressed up against the closed door the way you are? He might just let them. 

“What do you want, Sunspot?” 

You left a lamp on in your bedroom, the door cracked just enough to let a little filter through to the main living space. Still, he’s almost completely silhouetted against the warm yellow glow. As if he’s some kind of ethereal being, maybe he is.

“Make me see the stars.” You pull him in as close as you can and let your lips brush over his as you whisper. His next words make you shudder almost as much as the way he drags the zipper of your jacket down, slowly, tooth by tooth. 

“As you wish.” 

And boy, does he deliver.

You’re expecting things to feel more unfamiliar than they do, as you explore each other for the first time, but it’s like you’ve been here before. Once, twice, a hundred times before. Every move feels oddly choreographed. Ezra knows exactly how to take you apart and put you back together again, the way he pulls every twitch and moan out of you so expertly. You’re no different, as your fingers map the plains of his chest like it’s muscle memory. 

You shake it off, put the thoughts to the back of your mind. You’ve been around the block a little in your time on the Pug, it only makes sense that he has the same kind of experience. But shared experience or not, you can’t deny how much having him so close feels like a homecoming of sorts.

It’s the best sleep of your whole fucking life and, honestly, you’re not that surprised. Ezra makes a damn good pillow. Even if you both wake hours later into the day cycle than either of you normally would. Even if he’s more of a morning person than you are. It’s kind of nice, to sit still snuggled in your pile of blankets and watch him potter around your apartment as Hugo winds around his ankles like he’s been there for years. 

Your fridge, however, is heartbreakingly empty and renders his offer of making breakfast pointless. Instead, he pulls his shirt on and offers to take you to the best little diner he knows, tucked away in the heart of the marketplace. It’s a hard offer to turn down.

“What kind of gentleman would I be to have so much income at my disposal and not treat such a beauty as yourself to a good meal?” He winks as he flashes his credit chit at you as if you didn’t scan in for your paychecks at the same time. You laugh as you empty a food pouch into Hugo’s bowl, and tell him he better show you all the good breakfast spots. You shrug off his raised eyebrow and mutters of a ‘next time’. As if he didn’t already know.

Still, Ezra takes you by the hand the moment your apartment door secures itself shut behind you, leading you through the hall and out into the street, and you’ve never felt more wanted.

It’s like everything’s brighter, walking leisurely through the bustling market stalls with Ezra. The smells are stronger as spices in the air cling to your nose, the cacophony of vendors calling out almost sounds like music, and you start to laugh. Hand in his, in the middle of the maze of stalls full of food and tools and trinkets. As if it’s just the two of you in the whole universe. 

At least Ezra doesn’t look back at you like you’re crazy. He smiles too, just as big, and you feel bathed in warmth the same as when the sun comes out planetside.

You’re both still grinning when he leads you deeper through the market, down an alley and up a flight of stairs to an unassuming door.

“Is this where you murder me?” You joke just as the door opens to reveal a short older woman with an eyepatch, who pulls Ezra down into a tight hug as soon as he’s in arms reach. He introduces her as Merse, the woman who’s run the best diner no one’s ever heard of on the whole station. She slaps his arm for his cheek, but her grin grows twice as wide when she spots your intertwined hands. 

Ezra pulls you through the doorway after him as he follows Merse, chatting about how she always keeps the best table open just in case he brings a friend and you try not to smile too wide when she wiggles her eyebrows at you. He says something to you, but you’re too distracted by the view from the big windows. 

The far wall is completely glass, overlooking the main docks, lined with booths. A small family sits in one of them, their two children standing up on the seats to watch the ships come and go. You’ve never seen it from this angle before, always down in the masses and scanning the boards for new jobs. It’s kind of beautiful. In a rusty, patchwork sort of way.

Merse points you towards one of the booths with a promise that she’ll bring you the best breakfast you’ll ever have, something tells you she’s not lying. 

It’s not long after you slide into the booth that she comes marching out of the kitchen with two plates, wafting steam that makes your mouth water and your stomach rumble. Rice and vegetables and eggs and all sorts of things you’ve never even seen pile high, and you’d worry you wouldn’t be able to finish it all if you weren’t so hungry. 

“You know I won’t break, right?” You push your fork around in the remaining rice on your plate as you watch Ezra absorb your words. He thinks about it for a long moment, dark eyes over you before settling on your own.

“What’s this about?” He knows, you know he knows. More importantly, you know he’s going to make you say it. In the middle of the day cycle, in this family friendly diner. 

“Just,” You exhale sharply, “Making sure you’re aware.” Your body floods with a shyness that’s alien compared to the confidence you had last night and suddenly, your breakfast is the most interesting thing on the Pug. You can practically feel him smiling at you, but you don’t dare look up to meet it. 

He was right though, the food really is some of the best you’ve ever had.

It’s not until you’ve wandered back through the market, still hand in hand, and found your way back to your apartment that Ezra decides to bring it up. He may have been more than a little distracted last night, but he’s sure he spotted a set of old books sitting on a shelf above your couch. You freeze, ready to go on the defensive about how ink and paper will never be obsolete, until you realise he’s genuinely interested. He’s not judging you by any means. Something about the curiosity shining in his eyes makes your heart flutter more than you care to admit. 

He could watch you talk about your books all day, every day, for the rest of his life. How your eyes lit up when you recognised his interest, a paperback lover himself. You can’t seem to stop yourself as you dive into the intricate details of your favourite classics, two or three hundred year old texts that make you feel like you’ve lived a thousand different lives at once. He wants so badly for you to keep talking but the more impassioned you become, the more he wants to kiss you.

You trail off at some point, he loses track when you climb into his lap to point out notes you’ve made in margins and the books lie scattered on the couch beside you as you kiss him until neither of you can breathe. You’re still a little achy from last night, deep in your bones, and you hiss when his teeth scrape across your shoulder.

“Won’t break, is that right?” Ezra chuckles darkly and nips at your jaw, “Can I try?”

“Please.”

You wake at the creak of your bedroom door, sometime in the early hours. Hugo noses his way through the narrow gap and hops up onto the bed, curling up on the unclaimed pillow by your head. Ezra sleeps deeply, face buried in your neck, and you let the warmth of him wash over you. It ebbs and flows like a tide, that familiarity. The undeniable fact that something about this just feels right. You’ve known this man a week and yet you’re here wondering, as he rests in your arms, if he might want more than just this with you. 

Oh, but you are so afraid. Afraid to put a name to anything about him because what then? Will he tell you that you’re simply a placeholder in his life for something better, or that his heart might bleed through his skin when you’re apart? You’re not sure which is worse. Not that it matters, there is no word in any language that would be able to explain exactly how you feel about the man asleep in your arms. It’s enough, you think, to have him with you at all. In any capacity. Whatever pieces of his soul he bares as your breathing evens and his mind wanders. That is enough, and you will protect it with your life.

You have to part ways at some point, of course. Another week of rolling around in your bed sheets together, on the couch, on your pitiful kitchen counter, up against the wall, and Ezra gets a call from the agency. It’s a last minute job, the crew only need an extra set of hands to fit the safety standards, but it’s several systems out from the Pug. It’ll take him away for at least a month. You trail after him at the docks, with promises of messages in his absence and all manner of unsavoury activities on his return. It’s with a deep kiss and a wolf whistle from a couple of dock workers on their break, that you wish him luck. And ask him to hurry back.

Summer’s message surprises you when it dings through on your tablet. Some gajillionaire on Dallore T53 has found an aurelac deposit on the grounds of his new estate and wants it gone. She’s preoccupied, already out on another dig with Iras and a new crew. But it’s the kindness of her even thinking to offer it to you that makes your heart swell. It’s been a while since you’ve had real, honest to god, friends. 

You’d go in alone, normally, for something like this. But now? Now, you’re punching in Ezra’s comm pin before you can even really register what it is that you’re doing. He only got back a week ago, and you made him settle in back home before he could settle in yours. It’s not like the two of you would be doing any resting on his return to your apartment, exactly. The job was a pain, he’d told you, it ran months longer than anyone expected and you’re sure he’s still exhausted. He won’t agree, but you find you have to ask. Just in case.

“Sunspot?” He sounds happy, rested. And you breathe a sigh of relief, at least he can follow your orders when he wants to.

Hugo snakes around your ankles at the familiar voice, the same way he does any time the man himself walks through the door. If you didn’t know that the little orange devil’s alliances lie in who feeds him, you might think he loves him more than you. 

You explain about the job, make sure to stress that he doesn’t have to come. That you don’t even really need to take it if he’d rather you stay close by. Okay, you don’t say that out loud, but the smile you hear in his words through the speaker makes it known that he’s heard you. Loud and clear. 

It doesn’t matter in the end, not when he accepts before you even have a chance to give him any details. You don’t know why you were so worried he might say no.

“Any excuse to be warmed by your light, Sunspot.” Hugo brushes up against your leg at the same time Ezra’s voice practically drips through the speaker, smooth as honey.

“Is that a euphemism?”

“Do you want it to be?”

You choke on your breath and he laughs like you’ve told the funniest joke in the universe. He’ll kill you one of these days, you’re sure of it.

You charter the ship you usually take on private jobs, the space a little smaller than you remember with another person on board, but it’s not like either of you aren’t used to being in close quarters with each other by now. At least Ezra has the decency not to be mean about the beaten up exterior, she still flies true. He’d grinned at that, told you how a rough outside often means the opposite of the interior mechanics. The glint in his eye is enough to know he’s not just talking about the ship. 

At least the planet is in the same system as the Pug, so there’s no need to punch through to a lane. You fly in silence for a few hours, the familiar feel of the controls under your fingers as you guide it through the sky. Ezra’s eyes remain firmly on you although you pretend as though you don’t notice, and it takes him a moment to come back to the present when you ask him to flick a few switches and prepare to enter the atmosphere. 

The coordinates the client gave you to land are only a short walk from the house itself, a great stone castle-looking thing. It’s kind of ugly, the way the limestone juts out above the treeline. A big white block among the rich reds and oranges of the leaves. They grow that colour all year round, perpetually stuck in spring and summer. It must be nice to have the kind of money to find somewhere like that and decide you’ll build a house there. The air is breathable, and a quick look at the planet file proves it’s never too hot or too cold. A perfect place to build a house really. Although, if it were you making that kind of decision, you’d maybe go for a design that’s a little less cubist. 

The deposit isn’t huge, but it’ll be a good payout nonetheless providing the cells are all in good nick. You and Ezra wade through swathes of long grass and wildflowers until you find a spot to set up camp. At least you’re not stuck in bulky suits and having to lug around your equipment.

You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect dig if you’d tried. Each of the cells sit far enough away from each other that even if one were to fail, it wouldn’t corrupt a whole mess of the others. Although with both of your talents, it doesn’t surprise you when you collect every last crystal without a single misstep.

You’d told Ezra the profit would be split down the middle, equal pay for equal work. But it doesn’t stop him from sliding an extra gem into your pack to cover the ship charter. After all, you’re the one who was offered the job in the first place. He’s just following his heart, the one that walks around outside of his body and throws itself into deposits mid-corruption.

You hold one of the little gems aloft in the sunlight and watch as it sparkles.

“I used to think it was weird how rabid people go for these. But the more I dig the more I get it, isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”

Ezra tilts his head like he’s studying the rock, but his dark eyes don’t leave yours.

“It’s a close second.”

Sap.

Night falls before either of you realise just how late it is, clearing out the last few cells of the deposit. It’s not worth going back to the Pug now, he reasons, and you find it hard to disagree. The ache of the few days you’ve spent digging has settled deep in your muscles, the thought of having to run through docking procedure when you’re so tired is enough to make you wince. 

You let him take you for all you’re worth under the watchful eye of the heavens, and find there’s more stars behind your eyelids than you could ever hope to see in the skies. It’s all you can do to cry out the name of the only god to ever make you feel this holy. Ezra. 

He wakes with the sun, the same way he always has on jobs, to find you curled so tightly against him that it bubbles up from his toes all the way to his throat and he finds his eyes threatening to spill over. Everything in the universe seems to slot so perfectly together when you’re like this. Ezra sighs, content to never let the moment end. You are so beautiful.

He shifts up onto his elbow a little, still cradling you against him, and lets his free hand trail softly over your face. Tracing the shell of your ear, the curve of your cheekbone, the bridge of your nose. The dawn’s sunlight breaks over the trees and filters through the fabric of the tent, bathing you in soft green light. He could stay here, holding you, until the universe implodes. Ezra doubts he’d notice such an insignificant thing with you beside him. 

But end it must, and he rouses you gently with soft whispers and kisses against your temple. You stretch in his arms, not unlike Hugo, and sigh as your joints pop and settle. Packing up happens slowly, moving around each other so naturally it’s as though you’ve done it a thousand times before. Every time Ezra passes, you drop a kiss wherever you can reach. His shoulder, the arm of his jacket, that little patch on his jaw. He pretends not to blush when you catch his hand and carefully press your lips to the little tattoo between his thumb and index finger, you pretend not to notice when he does.

You’ll be the death of him, he’s sure of it. The way you keep watching him out of the corner of your eye, the way your smile is so bright when he catches you that he can barely stand to look at it. With the tent and equipment packed up, his fingers itch to thread through your own as you start the walk back to the ship, there’s not a word in the universe strong enough to describe just how much he hates that both his and your hands are too full.

It’s odd, thinking about it. How you met by pure chance, hired by the agency just because you were on the same station at the same time. Would he have ever met you if you’d chosen a different career path, if he had? Maybe somewhere, centuries before or after this moment, where you’re meeting again. Different lives, different times, spanning across all of existence. Maybe, right here and now, you’re starting to feel the way he does about you. Just a little. Maybe he’ll get up the courage to ask what you think, how far you want to take things. He’d give himself to you in a heartbeat, without question. In a way, he already has.

Ezra can’t stop himself.

“What do you make of the red string of fate?”

“All you’ve seen of the universe and you still believe in soulmates?” 

“Maybe I’m more foolish that I made myself out to be.” He shrugs, trying not to let his eyes fall to the little finger of his right hand. Trying not to clench his fist to show you exactly how much your disbelief affects him down to his bones, as though his soul itself is frowning. You’re smiling. Uncharacteristically quiet, but you seem appropriately pleased by his answer and stray a little further out into the long grass.

Curiosity gets the better of you.

“Can you see yours?” You have to call out across the gap you’ve unintentionally created, yellow stalks swishing in the breeze between you, and for a moment you’re not sure he heard.

Ezra looks at his right hand, at the thin red string tied neatly at the knuckle of his little finger, and follows the line as it threads through the grass to where it’s knotted at your left. 

“No.” 

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @gotta-have-faye​ @freeshavocadoooo​ @darnitdraco​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @fire-is-catching-always

[kth1]

Piquant [Jungkook x Reader]

Piquant [Jungkook x Reader]

Pi-quant / adjective: having a pleasantly sharp taste or appetizing flavor.

⟶ Credit: @kimtaehyunq​ ⟶ Genre: Smut | 21+ | Vampire AU | One Shot ⟶ Warnings: explicit, sub!jungkook/whiny lil thing, vamp!jk, oral (M&F), fingering, blood/blood play, biting, period blood, noona kink, adult content, bondage(M), unprotected sex, language, semi overstimulation, semi cock-warming, creampie, squirting, roommates to ?, multiple orgasms, etc ⟶ WC: 12k ⟶ Summary: Jungkook is your awesome roommate who also happens to be a vampire. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, even with the playful tactics he does to fluster you. Until you realize those quipping taunts meant more than he led on. ⟶ Teaser: “He savored your flavor; his mouth finally got the taste it has been curious about for a long time now. He wanted more before his taste-testing was over, and he knew exactly how to get it.” ⟶ Author’s note: Hello everyone, this story is a precious gift to @jkeuphoriadreamland​ – as Yoly fully enjoys a bit of a whiny brat version of Jungkook. And NOONA KINKS. I tried my best to write him as a sub, and I truly hope you enjoy this fic. Nervous as all hell because you are a wonderful, glorious writer; and gifting you a fic of my own makes me kasdjhf. Anyways, this is unedited bc reasons - I had fun being your Peach Peep and writing this for you! (I didn’t mean to make it as long as it did… oops. xoxo)

“You smell pretty tasty.”

“Well, I’m not!” You retorted.

“Let me have a quick taste? That’s all I’m asking for.” Jungkook requested.

“Koo, no! You have plenty of bottles of blood in the fridge – just heat some up.”

Jungkook snorted with disgust, “Tch, that blood is synthetic. It’s not as good as straight from the source.” His finger trailed up the inside of your wrist, his body taking a step closer to yours.

You snatched your wrist back to yourself quickly, glaring up at your pest of a roommate. “Oh no no no – Jeon! You stop that!” Jungkook took another step, a grin present on his sculpted face. You respond with a pointed finger, raising your eyebrows in question. He wanted to play this game again.

“But Noona, please!” He whined with a pout. The vowels drawing out with the sentence with a childish tone, but his eyes shared something deep and dark. Thirst.

“I am not your bloodbag Jeon Jungkook!” your accusatory finger now prodding his chest.

“True, you’re not. But you are my friend.” He smiled, cupping your hands in his, “friends help another out.” He let out a little giggle when he saw your flustered face.

You scoffed, laughing as your roommate continued to plea. “You don’t need help! You have blood in the kitchen! B negative to be exact. It’s a fresh stock!” You shooed him, ushering him to turn around and pushing him towards the opening of the kitchen.

“Noona!” he droned again.

Oddly enough, Jungkook adored using this nickname towards you. Even though he is a hundred and something years older than you, his ripened age of vampire is in his early twenties – when he was changed into one, he found it humorous to call you Noona because your human years have surpassed his frozen age. Thus resulting, in his mind, you being ‘older’ than him. That, and the fact you get flustered up over the nickname.

There’s no doubt in your mind that your pesky little vampire friend could overpower you at any second if he really wanted to, but there was a firm alliance between the two of you. He has control over his hunger after all, he’s not a savage. Just because Jungkook is a vampire doesn’t mean he was a monster. For years vampires have lived among the human race, they aren’t out to rule the world or anything. Just trying to survive like every other creature.

Still, he and you were good friends. Actually, when you first met him you developed one of the biggest crushes on the mysterious vampire – but that feeling subsided drastically when you realized more about his lifestyle.

The two of you met through friends of friends. Trustworthy, as you had his back and he had yours. And now, you two shared an apartment in the busy city of Seoul, making ends meet as he works at the local vamp lounge, being a bartender. You wallow yourself forever in an office desk job providing customer service over a phone and through your computer.

“I swear to god if you ask me one more time, I’m going to throw my silver jewelry at you!” you threatened. “And stop calling me Noona!”

He scrunched his nose, annoyed at your rejection. “Ahh, you’re no fun.” He grumbled under his breath, turning away and departing towards the kitchen.

“It’s my blood! My property!” you yelled to the back of his dark ruffled hair, watching it sway with each of his steps before it vanished behind the wall.

“Then stop bleeding around me! Don’t get another paper cut and I wouldn’t ask!” he shouted from the other room.

The shuffling noises from the fridge to the microwave was audible enough to hear. A hint that he’s reheating a bottle of blood. Luckily for him, you were nice enough to stop by the convenience store on your way back home to pick him up a fresh batch of blood. Picking up his favorite flavor for his special acquired taste.

You looked down at the coffee table that was littered with a pile of mail, some ripped open and some still untouched. Your eyes darted at the piece of envelope that was sharp enough to break through your skin and cause a nasty little cut. You mentally scolded the piece for causing a stinging pain in your index finger. The irony of the rent notice cutting into your wallet was the act paper that cut into your flesh.

With your hand still close by, you examined the cracked cut that adorned a leaky line of red with a bead of blood threatening to drip off. “Wouldn’t ask.” You mocked Jungkook, speaking to yourself. “Oh please – you’re such a begger.” You sucked on your finger, attempting to take the small sting away and ridding your blood while you continued to reorganized the mail on the table.

The audible footsteps of Jungkook resonated as he approached back in the living room, bottle attached to his mouth. You glanced over your shoulder to see what was up with his lingering, and he answered your gaze with narrowed cut, stink-eyes. Sipping bitterly hard on his warm thick fluid drink, he rolled his eyes and continued down towards his bedroom.

He heard what you said.

Jungkook was gone, a scheduled vacation to meet up with some old friends for the weekend. You have the whole apartment to yourself for once, and during this time you had an untimely visit from your aunt flow. It tainted your mood, unwanted pains and cramps forcing you out of whack. Your weekend consisted of kissing your lips to Ben & Jerry’s selection of ice cream flavors, watching movies and downing your own dosage of Advil and other pain killers.

The apartment wafted with your heady scent. Something you couldn’t pick up with human smell alone but to a vampire like Jungkook, he could pick it up instantly. Like a shark in a water, he can catch whiff of all kinds of scents with those advanced heightened senses.

You were fast asleep in dreamland, a heating pad atop your stomach that lulled your cramps at an ease. Curse the world that during this period, your cramps were ungodly painful, and you felt like complete and utter shit.

What you didn’t know was that your roommate had decided to cut his group hang out short – coming back home in the middle of the night. Not like he couldn’t come and go as he pleased – it was his house too. But tonight, it was slightly… different.

He stepped up the stairwell in the apartment complex, fidgeting with the ring of keys in hand. A strange smell entered his nose, something foreign yet so similar to him. It forced him to halt his actions, standing still while looking down the corridor. It was coming from this floor – his floor.

Jungkook reached level 3, turning his way down to his apartment with the scent leading him all the way to the front door. A succulent aroma enticing him, ticking his hunger. He soon realized that sweet pungent smell that he zoned into was your scent – your blood was lingering in the airway in a heavy dosage.

“Oh fuck!” he unlocked the apartment door in a rush, speedily running in as fast as the bulk of your musk entered his sinuses. Immediately Jungkook thought the worst, thinking something happened to you; you were hurt and bleeding out. Were you okay? Why are you bleeding?

His feet brought him to your bedroom door, “Y/n! Y/n!?” he’s frantic. The moment Jungkook busted your bedroom door open almost off its hinges, he was relieved to see you intact and unharmed – seeing your body sprawled out across your mattress fast asleep.

But the sudden commotion jolted you up out of your slumber, the booming sound of your door flinging open and Jungkook’s voice calling out your name startled you.

“Kook?” You whipped your head towards him, a groggy voice to match your terrible bedhead you sported.

“Shit, sorry! Fuck, I didn’t mean to wake you! I just – I,” his thoughts were cut off, that rambling of his mouth seized when you shifted yourself on the bed, rolling the comforter around. The blanket that sealed the majority of your scent now accidentally releasing in a wave, the sweet tangy smell hitting Jungkook face first.

His hand latched to his nose, plugging his ability to smell you any further. Internally he was fighting his natural urge to go for it, to have a taste of this juicy aroma that was causing his mouth to water and fangs to sharpen. This impulse was worse than any other time, like when you got papercuts or accidentally nicked yourself with a knife. You always had a peculiar smell, something that made him curious, and now he’s invested.

He knows he needs to leave the area, go get himself a bottle of blood or find a unfortunate prey on the street, quickly. He can’t touch you; he shouldn’t touch you – but god do you smell so good and your scent was incredibly inviting.

His backpack slunk off his shoulder to the floor with a thud, the intoxicating smell was so deadly that it was forcing a haze of thirst run over him. “I thought you were hurt.” He confessed.

You rubbed your eyes to remove any forming crusts, “Hurt? What? I’m not hurt. That’s why you woke me up?”

Jungkook shook his head, staring over at your confused and puzzled face. “N – no Y/n, you’re bleeding. Like a lot.”

It took moments for you to register what he was implying. Widening your eyes when you finally came to realization. “Oh no… shit. Sorry Koo. I’m fine I swear.”

You scurried, flipping the covers over you to witness a decently large stain that had accumulated through your night shorts. You bled through your bottoms, something you haven’t done in years, yet mother nature is always good at being unpredictable. You sighed, face palming yourself to how you practically ruined the fabrics and it will take a miracle to clean them completely.

Jungkook froze, all instincts fighting to break free the moment his sensory eyes laid on the darkened patch that decorated between your legs. His fist tightened; his body completely stiff with blown out eyes. “Run Jungkook, fucking run.” He ordered himself internally.

You carefully moved your body around, attempting not to get any more blood on your sheets. Thankfully you didn’t have any cramps right now. Typically, you were very cautious around your roommate during times like these. Plugging yourself up with tampons from beginning to end of your cycle, refusing to stay around him or the apartment for too long, even he would take time away to give you your space. It was out of respect for another, established as a primary rule before you two signed your contract to the apartment.

As you hobbled closer towards the door in which Jungkook stood, you couldn’t understand why he refused to move out of your way.

“Kook, I have to go to the bathroom.” You seek to brush pass him but Jungkook’s hand snatched your arm – grip strong.

In a slow raspy voice, he breathed, “Noona.”

You blinked up at him, watching a flicker of red flash over his darkened orbs. You felt caught, trapped by his intense stare. His build was larger than yours, almost menacing when his body hardened to block the frame of the doorway.

“Jungkook… relax…” You felt the temperature of your body shift. Should you be worried? Scared? Embarrassed?

“I can’t.” his other hand held onto your free arm, slowly backing you away from the door with trembling steps. His eyes frantically searched your face, pupils wide while the chocolate brown of his eyes shaded to a vibrant red.  

His eyes were demanding, a scare or warning that there was no going back from this. You’ve witnessed this look before when you visited the bar he worked at, when his eyes catch onto a delicious treat in the crowd. It won’t be easy to escape this situation. Jungkook was invested in getting what he wanted, what he was craving…

“This – this would be weird. It’s – Jungkook listen to me for a second.” The back of your legs touched the edge of the bed. “Jungkook!”

He hummed, glossing his eyes over you once more. His tone beckoning you to continue.

“This is period blood!”

He shrugged, rubbing his hands along the expanse of your arms, not allowing you to sit down just yet. He can feel the warmth of your body, how you are much warmer than usual. “It’ll just taste a little off. It’s not like I haven’t had it before.”

“Ew, Kook! No that’s gross! Like, do vampires actually enjoy? This?” You tried wiggling yourself out of his grasp. But he stepped closer – closing whatever distance there was between the two of you. You swallowed thickly, feeling quite intimidated and small under his presence. But you took note, his tight chest now flexed in front of you and hands held firm to your arms as if he was holding onto dear life.

“Y/n.” Jungkook whispers, leaning closer to your head. His phantom breath tickled the shell of your ear, “Please let me have a taste. Can I please…?”

It sounded so sensual coming from him. A shiver running down the base of your spine from the odd request. His hands now ghosted your hips, fingers etching a tingly sensation into your exposed skin. He carefully played with the waist band of your shorts – dipping a finger under it in a teasingly way.

Jungkook was controlling himself to all extremes. He knows he can’t attack you the way his nature wants him to, you’re his friend after all. He shouldn’t be stalking towards you like this. He cannot ruin you the way you’re ruining him right now. But he’s surely thinking about it.

You felt shy, nervous but oddly turned on by your roommate’s intimidation. All his persistence, his pleading whines slowly getting to you. You should feel disgusted – right? The idea of blood, your blood, your period blood, being taste tested by your friendly vampire. Which makes you question yourself even more when you tell Jungkook, “Okay…”

You’re shocked and so was Jungkook. Your confirmation is all he needed to hear, so he didn’t need to stop his action of snaking his hand down your shorts, slowly trailing his fingers towards your core.

A small gasp escaped him the moment the freshly soaked patch on your undies came in contact with the pad of his index finger. The urgency of pushing his finger down onto the cloth to collect whatever residue he could overwhelmed him.

It was an odd feeling – your roommate exploring his wondering hand down your shorts. What you didn’t expect was how it still felt somewhat good. The sudden contact of your lady bits now getting attention not by your own hand, but of someone else’s. Causing your body to jump with a sexual alert and now you’re the one holding onto Jungkook’s arms as if you were going to buck under him.

Jungkook brought his fingers back up to meet his face as he inspected the redden stain that now coated the tips of his digits. A strange manner – something no human in their right mind would do – Jungkook sniffed at your remainder. Naturally this would be so revolting for a human. But Jungkook is a blood-sucking vampire. Any form of human blood wired him up and he lived off of it, literally.

You watched him with your bottom lip between your teeth. You watched as he stuck his fingers in his mouth and exhaled a very audible groan thought his nose.

“Fuuuuck, Noona…” his tongue dragged between his fingers, then lips to savor the flavor. Suddenly his hand disappeared back to the waistband of your shorts, this time less hesitantly now. “You tasted like this all along?” He speculated while advising you to sit down, tugging harshly at your bottoms.

You nervously fumbled trying to catch his hands before he could hoist your bottoms off. He was fast, desperate for more. “Kook! You said a taste!” you squealed.

“I’m not finished tasting!” he growled. A more aggressive side taking over his demeanor. In his swift act of removing your bottoms you heard the ripping of seams. Fabrics pulling apart. Then your used panties and shorts were discarded off to the side – there was no saving them now.

Jungkook held your hands, staring down at your now pinched thighs that hid his juicy treat. He can sense your uncertainty, your nervousness – so he tried to look as apologetically pleading as possible while kneeling down in front of you. “Noona – please!” The pitch of voice didn’t match the way of his eyes that stared you down. “I’ll make it feel good, I promise. Just let me show you!”

He shoved his face between your knees, attempting to pry your legs apart, that strong scent now mere inches away from his mouth. Jungkook couldn’t control his hunger any longer, not when there was free blood just asking to be eaten.

It was almost pathetic at how desperate Jungkook was being, wiggling his head further into you. His eyes glowing pure red as they fixated at the crack between your thighs. He dragged his lips across your skin, planting reckless open mouth kisses. The sight of your roommate on his knees for you sparked a deep desire within your core.

“Kook! Let’s talk about this!” You flushed as you pinched your thighs as tight as possible. Jungkook’s hands firmly held yours still. He grunted at your resounded rebuttal, pleading more with a high pitch – needy whine.

He wasn’t listening, he couldn’t hear you as his hunger took over his senses. His throat felt dry though his mouth watered for your flavor. Heat embedded into your cheeks, rocking a wave down to your bundle of nerves. You squeaked at the shifting movements of Jungkook wedging his face even more. “Kook is this even right?!”

Complete turmoil ran through your mind – you’re sharing yourself with your friend. Someone you had a crush on, and now that attraction crept back up. An act that you two have never experienced before. This wasn’t your average ‘oh here take some blood from my wrist’ situation. Jungkook was aiming for more than just a snack and it didn’t seem like the vampire didn’t mind what-so-ever.

“I’m okay with it Noona – are you?” He nipped your leg lightly, slowly dragging his now sharpened fangs on the soft skin. His lips formed a pout as he looked up at you with reddened puppy-dog eyes. “I won’t bite you.”

Everything about this situation seemed so wrong, but Jungkook was making it sound so right. You never realized how the excitement of the situation was causing your chest to rise erratically, an ache in your core now persistently present and you swore the puddle down below wasn’t just blood now.

You were nervous and body slightly shaking. It’s late, it’s wrong, this whole circumstance entirely dangerous. But that didn’t stop your body acting on its own accord by widening your legs just enough for Jungkook’s head to slip in. A spark lit bright in Jungkook’s eyes when he laid them upon your dirty flower, the sight looking as appetizing as ever.  

“Yeah.” You breathed. “It’s okay with me. Don’t bite me or so help me god –“

“I won’t.” Jungkook didn’t hesitate to slide himself in – licking up the blotches of blood that escaped onto your inner thighs. The sensual feeling of his tongue tracing patterns around your pussy.

Lewd noises came from Jungkook, devouring your juice as if it was the best meal on Earth. Satisfaction releasing through his nose that moment the flat of his wet muscle licked up between your lips, flicking at the tip of your clit.

He released your hands as he felt you ease into him, moving them to your upper thighs to kneed lovely circles into them.

“Oh!” you moaned. Your fingers carded though his hair – head nestled deep between your legs. “Koo-!”

He grinned against your sex. A slight giggle escaped his lips, “Yes, Noona?”

Jungkook looked up at you through his eyelashes and with a cock of his eyebrow, mouth entrapping your cunt. He flicked his tongue up you once more just to see your reaction.

You shuttered – back landing onto your mattress. You openly sighed with a ridged breath. The dangerous mouth of Jungkook eating you up like it was his job. “Fuck, Kook.” You giggled at your shameless moans. The feeling of bashfulness creeping up on you from enjoying the sensation, those disgusting thoughts fading away against the immense pleasure. Stimulation being particularly focused on your small bundle of nerves, especially when Jungkook sucked on it.

The mess that dressed your cunt was most definitely already cleaned up by now. But Jungkook continued to pleasure you in return – after all he did say he’d make it feel good.

He savored your flavor; his mouth finally got the taste it has been curious about for a long time now. He wanted more before his taste-testing was over, and he knew exactly how to get it.

“Let me thank you, Y/n…” he purred.

Snaking his fingers under you, he teased the pads of his digits around your entrance. Prodding slowly along with the rhythm that his tongue set. Your cunt clenched around the insertion of two of his fingers that eased in effortlessly.

You allowed him to have a taste and now he wanted to repay you back by giving you a treat you won’t forget. You gasped for air the moment Jungkook’s fingers curled up into the thicket of your inner walls, pressing long drawled out strokes against it.

Your hips bucked, jerking up into the wild tongue of Jeon Jungkook. It was sinful the way he ate you out, and even at the right angle you felt the sharp of his fangs that threatened to dip into you. His word was true, he wasn’t going to bite you, just clean you up.

With the constant thrusts of his vicious digits, he was also swiping out any hording residue of your unfortunate mishap that got you two in this situation in the first place. Of course, this luscious taste is distinct, but Jungkook can also relish in the flavor of your natural essence that extracted from your cunt. And the mix of these two delectable tangs together soon made their way to the top of Jungkook’s palate.

Your body tightened, the sudden rush of your climax rushing through you as goosebumps rise across your skin. The fist you steadily held in his hair, tightened. Your back arched off the mattress, Jungkook’s hand holding your hips securely down.

Vibrations ran through your body while you moaned Jungkook’s name, creaming all over his face. He groaned in return, lapping up every inch of you.

He leaned back, removing his mouth and fingers. Wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, Jungkook peered up at you with constraint. You remained laying, staring at the ceiling and feeling completely washed out. That just happened? You had one of the best orgasms of your entire life all because Jungkook was thirsty?

“You good, Y/n?” A mousy voice drew your attention out of your thoughts, back down at the man who hesitantly stood up. His hands moved your legs back together, and he assisted you to sitting back up right on the edge of the bed.

You nodded, reserving your thoughts for another time as you looked up to Jungkook. His eyes were no longer blood-lust red but instead his wide doe-eyed nuisance you’re oh-so used to seeing. They wouldn’t be so annoying if they didn’t work on you, but they did. Every. Damn. Time.

“I’m good, Kook! Uh – thank you.” Your expression of gratitude stammered out of your mouth faster than you could think.

Jungkook murmured under his breathe, but it was loud enough to hear the “Yeah, of course.”

Oh boy. You can feel it – the awkwardness setting in.

Before there were any more unsettling silences between the both of you, you spoke up. “I should really get myself cleaned up, if you can excuse me, I should really go to the bathroom.”

With that announcement you scurried, more like dashed yourself to the bathroom that was adjacent to your room. Leaving Jungkook to stand in your bedroom bewildered. He glanced down over at your discarded ripped bottoms that lay lifeless on the floor, still stained with your pungent aroma. He faltered battling with his inner thoughts when his lips quivered ever so slightly.

“Fuck.” He seethed the profanity through his teeth while palming over his groin.

It’s been a week since the misadventure that happened between your roommate and you. Determined, you choose to take the path of act-like-everything-is-fine. Nothing was wrong, no of course not. Right?

You had a full week to dwell on these thoughts, by yourself. No interests in opening your mouth about it to your best friends, or any random stranger at a bar or even the same clerk you run into at the convenience store every now and then.

So what – you let Jungkook have a taste of your blood? You’re an adult, and it was perfectly fine! He needs blood to live anyways – if anything you were doing him a favor! So, you told yourself…

But strangely enough after that night, after the mind-blowing orgasm that left your core fluttering for days even at the thought of that night, Jungkook distanced himself from you. No matter how many times you addressed him to partake in a casual event that the two of you normally participated in like enjoying a movie on the couch, having drinks together, running to the store or even playing one of his blasted videogames – Jungkook declined more than often. It was always.

Jungkook was hardly to be seen, stating he picked up more shifts at the lounge or hanging out with others. Meanwhile his nights remained occupied, and your days were busy with your office job – it caused more of a space between the two of you. When his actions persisted, you couldn’t help but think there was something wrong.

By day four of post orgasm those flooded doubts came running in. What you two did wasn’t right, you fucking knew it. Jungkook must have known it too. “This totally fucked up everything didn’t it?” It’s the only excuse you could devise with the series of events.

Now day seven you sat there in the middle of the couch; legs crossed over another as your foot impatiently tapped in the air. It’s been exactly a week from that treacherous night, and the more you thought about the risky behavior you both endured, the more it couldn’t escape your mind. You’re putting too much effort into something that shouldn’t be minded.

At least, that’s what Jungkook was doing – right? Not minding the incident…

With a glass of wine in hand, you sipped with resent as your flickered through the list of movies to preoccupy yourself with. Something needed to stand out, something to distract you from your irritated mindset. Maybe a comedy, maybe some horror with a bit of action?

You settled for something, clicking play and started up towards the kitchen. Swallowing the remains of your glass in honor of filling it right back up to the brim. In the course of your tipping the wine bottle into your cup, watching the dark liquid pour out of the nozzle so fluidly, you heard the entrance of your apartment open up.

That can only be one person – Jungkook.

Placing the bottle of wine back down on the counter, you turn with a full glass in hand. You walked out of the kitchen to be met with the emptying of the living room once again. Jungkook must have bee-lined it straight to his room.

A sudden rage rose up within you, not particularly enjoying this cold-shoulder act Jungkook insisted on giving. You want to confront him; you’re getting tired of this odd behavior and if there was an elephant in the room that refuses to leave then you will kick it out with all your might.

“Jungkook!” You hollered, feet stepping down the narrow hallway towards his room that was hidden in the very far end. “Kook!” Your voice belted his name a few more octaves higher.

Your knuckles contacted his bedroom door, tapping against the wood. “Can you open up?”

Through the wood you can hear the rummaging of Jungkook throughout the room. He was ransacking his drawers, the sound of his chair wheeling back and forth as his steps moved to and fro. “I’m busy right now.”

A stern huff escaped your lips. To calm yourself you took a long swig of your wine, hoping it cooled you down – or even give you more of a liquid courage to speak up.

“It will only take a minute!” You barked.

He didn’t reply back to you, but instead he continued to rustle around his room for god only knows what. With this indication, you felt peeved and your hand was fast to the doorknob. Twisting the handle fast enough to fling the door open so you can face him.

Jungkook was in the midst of tucking in his black fitted button up shirt, belt still hanging loose through the loops. Matching with his black sleek trousers and set of tuxedo shoes that went along with the monochromatic attire for work. For a brief moment, your mind zoned in on how Jungkook would look… when not just dressing, but undressing. That thought bubble was popped abruptly when he whipped his head in your direction and yelled at you.

“I said I was busy!” he repeated, tone fully capturing the blunt of his attitude.

“Jungkook, come on you’ve been avoiding me all week.” You inclined.

Jungkook ruffled out the last bits of his shirt, tapering it into the band of his pants. He fastened his belt security along his waist with the clinks and clacks. “I’m late Y/n. I don’t have time for this.” Jungkook breezes past you towards the bathroom with his stationary bag lugged over his shoulder. He eyes himself in the mirror, tidying up his hair and quickly rinsing his mouth with mouthwash.

Your feet pattered to the bathroom door, now leaning your body against the frame of the entrance. You can notice the harsh side-eye you receive from Jungkook, but you pay no attention in giving a reaction to it. “Kook, what did I do for you to avoid me? Was it because of what happened?”

There was sadness laced inside your voice, but it was taken over by puzzlement. You were just concerned, what happened to the dynamic between the two of you? Why can’t Jungkook even look you in the eyes half the time and run away to steer clear of you?

He spit his mouthwash into the skin, checking his teeth in the mirror for any imperfections. He shimmied the other string of his bag on to his other shoulder and turned to leave the bathroom, seeing that you now stood in his way he gave you an uneasy glare. “Move.”

“What the? No! –“ you protested. Your finger jotted out towards him, “Stop avoiding me!”

He can tell by the flare of your nostrils that you were fuming, and your tone of voice rising with each word you spoke only added to the obvious fact that you were indeed pissed. If it wasn’t for the clear sight that you’re holding up a cup full of alcohol, he’d most definitely would have smelt it lingering off of your breath. Jungkook attempted to grab the glass of wine out of your hand, assuring you that “you probably drank too much already.”

“Hey! – No, give me that!” You argued, holding tight with your fingers circling around the base. He’s shuffling around, pulling at your wrist to let go of the damn thing, but it was when his hand latched over yours that covered the base an unexpected shatter echoed in the apartment.

Wine spilled between the two of you, decorating the bathroom floor and your feet with the murky dark liquid. Pieces of bladed glass scattered around, and you winced when you felt the sudden jab of a shard that dug itself into your palm.

You yelped, jumping back in surprise and pain. You held your hand out, outstretching your fingers to see the blossoming of red liquid leaking from the shard. “Fuckin’ hell!”

“Shit! Y/n, I’m sor –“ Jungkook cut himself mid-sentence after reaching out towards you. The blood oozing out from that blade of glass was spilling out your sweet tasteful scent, and it wired Jungkook. His inner thirst now aroused.

Pain was plastered over your face as you ripped the piece out from your palm. You pressed firmly against the open wound, looking at the mess that is now below you. Glass everywhere and wine seeping into the cracks of the tiles.

Your eyes met up with Jungkook’s just as he was pushing pass you, down the hall and out the front door. Astonished at Jungkook’s utter rude mannerisms, you held your mouth wide open. He just up and left you in the middle of a mess that was caused by him. That you now have to clean up after taking care of this fresh cut inside the palm of your hand.

And he still didn’t answer your questions.

Another week went by with your poor attempts of consulting Jungkook and him avoiding you like the plague. And with the last ‘real’ incidence where the two of you spoke more than a few syllables, you ended up with a fresh cut to your hand and having to mop and sweep up glass shards and your favorite flavored wine off of the floor. And at this point, you felt like you were avoiding him just as much.

The animosity in the air between the two of you went down a gruesome hill. Tumbling down into smithereens where neither one of you can easily look at another. Jungkook still remained busy as ever, staying out of the house only until you leave for work. The only things that made you know he was still alive was the empty blood bottles left in the sink, the shower curtain being tossed every-which-way, and the half-hazard filing through your piled up mail when he picked out his belongings and left yours disorganized.

Needlessly to say, Jungkook stressed you the fuck out. You were bending to his routines, you were seeking shelter away from him, and all casual activity between the two of you completely vanished. Your confusion turned into spiteful hatred, wanting to smack your roommate upside the head.

Now you’re on week three of roommate-distancing. Your room became your safe haven. The living room was a crossfire full of casualties. The kitchen is a death wish. And the bathroom became your secret chamber when you needed to relax with a steamy relaxing shower and your bubbly loofah.

All this time, your mind already grew curious about Jungkook. There was no way you can repress your emotions when it came to him completely shutting you out. But you did stop remembering that night that turned the sequence of things between the two of you. You wanted to forget; you don’t want to think about it – ever.

You spent weeks dwelling over this roommate dilemma, and it tainted your mood entirely. Your job lacked enthusiasm, your tv didn’t please you enough after watching the same junk over and over. Tonight, you felt appropriate to go out for the night, treat yourself. Because you out of all people know you deserve some fun after the bullshit you are handling.

Fuck it – you’re going to the bar.

Pleather jeans hugged your legs, a blouse that you had tucked in lays low on the neckline flaunting your clavicles and upper chest. You jeweled yourself with a silver body chain that connected at your neck and dipped down between your breasts underneath your shirt. To top of your rocking outfit, you selected your best pair of open-toed red high heels lacing up the front and pinning up half of your now curled hair.

After finishing off the last touches of your make-up you gave yourself a quick look over in your standing mirror. Amused with your selection of attire you gave yourself one last twirl before grabbing your purse and heading out your front door.

You just needed time out, grab yourself a few drinks. There’s no shame of going to the bar alone, plus you enjoyed becoming acquainted with the bartenders here and there. It always gave you a sense of comfort knowing, even though it’s apart of their job, you can vent to them about your worries.

The Snake Pit, a clever yet sinister name for a bar tended to be one of your favorite hot spots to visit. Not only it had a dancefloor and an elongated bar that stretched to the full extent of a wall, electro pop music, and it had its own special feng shui to it.

Heel’s clacking against the hard-wooden floor beneath you, you strutted yourself over to an available seat by the bar. You smiled sweetly at the oncoming bartender who was headed your way, “Hey there! It’s been a while hasn’t it, Y/n?”

You handed over your card to the young chipper male who gleamed down at you, “Open a tab for me please. I’ll start with a mojito, Jin.”

“One Mo-Jin-To coming right up!” he smiled, whipping around to grab the appropriate glasses and mixtures. You bobbed your head to the music waves as you checked out the crowds around you. It was packed here tonight, and you’re happy to see people enjoying a great time.

“How’s it been?” Jin questioned after placing the glass on a coaster in front of you. He leaned in resting his elbow against the bar. Jin was a notorious little flirt, but with good intentions. He just wanted to make his customers as happy as possible – or maybe just enjoyed swooning the ladies to give him better tips.

“It’s… alright. Been better. Just needed to blow off some steam. And of course, I came to visit my favorite bartender. Can’t ever forget a face like yours.” You laughed along with Jin, taking a quick sip of your drink. “Oh? You made it a strong one.” You gave him a thumbs up, “yup, definitely my favorite bartender.”

Jin responded with a playful wink before leaning back up to assist other customers who beckoned for his attention. “Let me know when you need round two!”

And round two came sooner than later. Possibly drink three being concocted as you continued to sip down your mojitos like they were juice. When you grabbed your freshly made glass, you made your way to the dance floor to find some fun.

Within the course of an hour the beat of the music picked up drastically. Bodies swayed left and right in formations, lights flickering and buzzing around your sights. You were so into the rhythm that your hips moved naturally to the tunes.

Until a hand grabbed at your waist, turning you slightly towards them. A man slightly taller than you and maybe just as tipsy as you decided to take his chance on dancing with a pretty lady. “Hey!” he slurred over the loud music. “Let’s dance?”

His invitation wasn’t much of an invite, considering that he was already dancing along with you. But you accepted with a wide smile, urging him to come closed so you could relax your arm around his shoulder as you continued to drink. “Might as well, it is a dancefloor.” You giggled.

The bar felt like you were playing musical chairs with suitor on suitor. Eventually your drink vanished completely, and you were on your third dance with another random, but handsome, stranger.

“You smell just as pretty as you look.” He whispered into the shell of your ear, rocking his pelvis into your backside. His hands found a home on the curve of your hips, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his confession.

“That’s got to be one of the better pickup lines.” You hummed. “I’ve heard worse” you teased as you whipped yourself around in place, now placing your hands through the man’s hair. It was thick and hardened with some sort of product. You glanced around at the bar, noticing your favorite bartender flirting along with an innocent girl that sat right in front of him. A couple having a heavy make-out session just a few feet away from their interaction.

But you found a spare seat that was left empty, a motivation for you to go back for another drink? Or just relax from dancing since you felt like you needed a break.

“That’s not very nice,” the man prodded. Nudging your head aside so he could place a tender kiss against your neck.

With reflex you jerked your body away, avoiding the man and pushing him away. “No thank you.”

As you were turning on your heel, the male stepped close to you once more. Arm linking around your body, “Where do you think you’re going? Thought we were dancing?” He grinned eerily, an odd ominous vibe now shining from him.

Your hands came up to shove him away, but there was a movement in a blink of an eye that you didn’t catch. Maybe your vision was impaired, but you could have sworn you were just in the clutches of this man, and now he stands five feet away from you with a bewildered look.

“Back off.” A low grumble resounded next to you, a face popping into your perception. Jungkook?!

Jungkook’s jaw was clenched, grinding his teeth against another as the muscles flexed on the sides of his jaws. His arm was now linked around your waist, holding you close to him.

“What the fuck man?”

“She said ‘no’, didn’t she?” Jungkook challenged the man, stepping in front of you now to face the male. From here you can see his back tensed up under his dark t-shirt. You couldn’t comprehend the duel going on between the two, or maybe you couldn’t hear over the voluminous blaring of techno beats.

When the male fled the dancefloor, Jungkook turned to look at you. “What the fuck Kook!” You blurted. He was taken aback for a second, confused why you’re all of a sudden yelling at him. “Excuse me? Shouldn’t you be thanking me!?”

“Not that. I don’t care. But what the actual fuck?!”

All your pent up and inner rage towards your roommate from the past few weeks was making you hostile. Even seeing his face stirred you up to the point you wanted to hit him for being so idiotic.

“Y/n, seriously. Not right now. I just need to get you out of here. Please.” He grabbed your elbow, leading you a few feet before you tugged back on your arm.

“No!” Your hand gripped around his wrist, trying your damn near hardest to pull him off of you. “You need to explain right the fuck now!” You stomped your feet, throwing a small tantrum.

Jungkook’s patience was very thin, especially when it came to drunk you. He stepped closer, tugging your body next to his. “Fucking listen to me for a second, dammit. I need to get you out of here. I’ll talk to you when we’re outside.” He spat back at you.

“Why?” You rebutted, glaring up at his face.

“Cause you’re fucking bleeding, Y/n! And if it wasn’t for me that sleazy vampire would have had you for dinner!” He bit back. Both him and you were bickering back and forth, drawing attention from surrounding bystanders.

“What’ do you mean I’m ‘bleeding’” you air quoted with your fingers. You belted out an obnoxious laugh. Your unpleasant emotions were getting the better of you – resulting in making an ass out of yourself when all your roommate was trying to do was help you out. “Next thing you’re gonna say is that we’re friends too, right?”

Jungkook’s nostrils flared, his brows raised as high as they can reach. You were acting quite absurd and he didn’t understand what had gotten into you. “Y/n, I can fucking smell you.” He seethed out the words through his teeth. That’s when you noticed his fangs were now elongated and sharp. Jungkook wasn’t joking around.

A moment of realization kicked in and your eyes widened. “Wait, really?” You trembled.

“Yes. Now let’s get you out of here.” Jungkook escorted you through the crowd, hand now holding yours. The two of you quickly grabbed your tab from your helpful bartender while Jungkook looked out for any wondering eyes. If both he and that strange vampire could smell you, he was sure others can too.

Jungkook followed close behind you, being extra protective while scanning the areas outside on the way back to your apartment. When the two of you made it about four blocks down in complete silence, besides the sound of your heels hitting the concrete below, you decided to chirp up. “You said we’ll talk outside. So, talk.”

“Alright. What do you want to talk about?”

Your feet came to a halt, twisting your neck to look at Jungkook who walked a few paces behind you. “Seriously? You can’t imagine anything, not one thing, as to what I want to talk about?”

Jungkook ignored your stare, dismissing the obvious topic of interest by responding with. “Well, it’s easy for a vampire to tell another vampire apart. For one, they don’t have a heartbeat. So, when I saw him up on you, I grew curious.” A smug little grin pulled up on Jungkook’s face.

You balled your hands into fists, frustration pulling on every nerve in your body. “Don’t play coy with me! Stop. Fucking. Ignoring. Me. Jungkook.” You marched yourself right up to where he stood, invading his personal space. “I’m tired of it. Just talk to me. What did I do?”

“Nothing.” He mumbled. “It was me, not you.”

You snorted; the classic phrase used in so many cliché break up scenes. But this time, it’s not a break up. It’s literally two friends who have a weird misunderstanding with another. “Oh? So that’s it? It’s you and so you avoid me?”

“Keep walking, we’re only a few blocks away.”

You shook your head in defeat, crossing your arms and held tight to your body. The faster you get home, the faster you get to clean yourself up and the faster you can close off Jungkook. Little did you know that your furious speedy walk gave your butt just enough jiggle in those pleather jeans you decided to wear. Giving Jungkook something to admire from a far as his senses were being laced with your aroma.

“I’m sorry Y/n…”

“No, I’m sorry I have a shitty friend like you.”

Jungkook kept up with your pace, walking step by step along with your strides. He knows you don’t truly mean the words coming out of your mouth. It was his fault, and he was trying to admit blame for it all.

As the two of you made it up the stairwell in your apartment complex, Jungkook tried speaking up to you once more. “Y/n, look I know what I was doing wasn’t –“

“I don’t want to hear it.”

You slotted the key into your door, twisting it open and walked yourself into the darkness of your living room. Your night out became a terrible mess, rounding back to the initial problem that you’ve been trying to avoid. Once you kicked off your heels, tossing them aimlessly across the floor mat, you did the same to your purse and keys.

“Y/n.” Jungkook’s voice broke through. He reached for your arm, tugging you to face him. “Look I’ll talk all right?”

“Oh? So, I go weeks with being ignored by you, but you can’t last a night when the tables are turned?” You mocked Jungkook, looking at your roommate straight into the eyes.

“I had to, Y/n!” Jungkook pleaded for reason. “Please, I needed time okay?”

By now you were sobering up, any remains of your alcohol intake must have been sweated out during dancing and on your walk home. Jungkook was sporting his infamous doe-eyes while he looked desperately back into yours.

“Time? Time?!” you rose your voice. “Time to be an asshole? Needed time to ignore me when we could have discussed the problem? You literally circumvented yourself away from me for weeks? Was eating me out that terrible?!” Your fingers found their way to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Whoah! Y/n, Y/n whoah whoah. No!” Jungkook grabbed at your shoulders and leveled his head with yours. Surprise took over his body, clearly the both of you were having polar opposite battles going on with your minds. “No that’s not the – that isn’t. Gah… Fuckin’ hell. Eating you out was great! I enjoyed it.” Jungkook eased his hands over your shoulders, “Wholeheartedly, even when I don’t have much of a heart to comment by, I promise you. I think… it was too good actually. But, that wasn’t the problem at all!”

Your face froze in place with your mouth forming an ‘O’ shape. Only a few times you closed it, just to open it up and speak. “Wait… I’m confused. What’s the problem then?”

Jungkook exhaled a long, exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes at you. “Y/n. Your – uh your blood is a problem for me.”

“Well now I’m slightly offended, Jeon! You said I smelt good!” You wacked his chest with your palm. During which, a brief flicker of red cut through his irises and it made you pull your hand right back from him. It was at that moment, even when Jungkook’s gazed turned to a scowl, you knew he meant something else.

“You should really get yourself cleaned up.” His voice didn’t sound like a sincere worry, but more of a threat.

You snapped back at him, “You should really learn how to control your hunger.”

Jungkook squinted his eyes at you, licking his lips with a fixed gaze. He leaned forward suppressing the enigmatic smile he wanted to show you. “May I remind you, Noona, you’re bleeding right now.”

There it is again, that pet name that he enjoys cooing you with. The name that slightly makes you shy because you yourself don’t know how to react. Or maybe it riled you up, it was his way to flirt around with you shamelessly.

Your heady scent wasn’t as strong as the last time, no not at all. It was as dull as usual when you covered it up with tampons, only a faint aroma wafting from you. Not a pile of blood decorating your skimpy nighties in the middle of the night.

But it was the fact that Jungkook has already had a taste of your blood, he knows what it tastes like. He knows how good that succulent flavor drips so freely from you. Jungkook refuses to let any other vampire pry on you, like that bastard back at the bar. This blood was favorable, and god dammit he’ll protect it at all costs.

You crossed your arms over your body, staring down Jungkook who was quickly turning into the Jungkook from a few weeks ago. “And if I am bleeding, you sir, aren’t getting any of it.”

Jungkook held back his tongue, prodding it against the inside of his cheek instead. Your scent secretly became a dangerous drug for Jungkook. Almost addictive in a sense. He was lucky to have been walking the streets near The Snake Pit, smelling your custom flavor in the air. But he was so completely unlucky when he skipped out searching for a quick drink that he was left thirsty.

And the agonizing walk from the bar back home to make sure you remained safe, getting a nice view of your ass swaying with each step in those tight pants, only tantalized him further because all he could do was sniff you out. You invading his vicinity only teased him worse.

He let out a breathy sigh again, “What can I do?”

“I’m sorry?” You blinked at him.

“I haven’t eaten tonight, and I know there isn’t any more bottles because you stopped buying them… what can I do to get some of your blood right now?”

You quizzed Jungkook, “I don’t know, what can you do?”

Jungkook reached for your hand, unfolding your arms from your front. He raised it to his face, where he placed your palm flat across his cheek. His hunger was forming an empty pit in his stomach, he physically could feel his abdomen churn inwards at the thought of your blood touching his tongue. His voice came out as a soft whisper, “I’m so sorry for mistreating you recently.”

Jungkook’s thumb rubbed along your inner wrist, stepping closer to your body. He can feel your heartbeat pick up pace, the warmth of your hand against his face grew clammier the longer he stared at you. “I – I would really love some, if you let me. I was good to you last time, right Noona?”

His words were sweet, his eyes were sweeter with the pleading look he emitted even when the color of his orbs turned to that deadly crimson. Fuck. You don’t know what it was about Jungkook that triggered you in the most sinful of ways.

Was it the way his smile looked so dashingly sexy even when he’s being a childish punk. The effortless good looks no matter what style of clothes he was wearing? His entire aspect, the living (well actually dead) embodiment of Jeon Jungkook was everything you actually craved.

You breathed, “Yeah… You were very good to me.” All of those memories of that night flooded back. The feelings. The satisfactions. How hot and heavy Jungkook’s tongue felt against your swollen sex.

“Let me be good to you again.” Jungkook advised, kissing your inner wrist now.

“Only on one condition.” You stated as your grab both of Jungkook’s wrists in your hands. You guided Jungkook down the apartment hallway, ignoring the poorly lit areas and towards his room. After pushing open his door with a foot, you pointed to his bed.

“My bed is the condition?” He grinned amused at the option in front of him. Thinking that this condition was nothing serious, but easier for him. He complied to sit down facing you with a questionable look. “What now, Noona? You have me.”

Your hands reached behind your neck, unclasping the body chain you decided to wear out tonight. “This. This is my condition.” You held the long piece of jewelry up. “It’s pure silver. I’m sure you understand.”

Now you drew Jungkook’s curiosity even further, what did you have in mind with that chain? He never knew his roommate was so kinky before. You peaked his interests with entertainment.

“Wrists. Now.”

“But how am I going to be good for you if you cuff me?”

“Do you want my blood or no? Because I’m certain just about a minute ago you said –“

“Okay. Okay. Fine.” He shook his head while displaying his wrists out to you.

The burn of the chain sizzled against his skin as you twisted it around another, tying his wrists together. It was painful for a vampire, not only does it burn but it also paralyzes the affected, so they cannot pull the material off of the area so easily.

Jungkook’s face had irritation written all over it. The pain biting him with annoyance. The only thing keeping him going is the fact that whatever he may do will give him the blood he desired.

“This is for you ignoring me for weeks.” You raised his arms above him, pushing him back onto his bed and securing his wrists to one of the posts with the assistance of a sturdy belt.

Jungkook groaned out, “Hey, I said I was sorry!”

“Apology is not accepted.” You smiled.

He watched you carefully, eyeing your bar outfit, your face, the excitement behind your eyes sparking at the actions you chose to partake in. “So, this is my punishment?” He winked.

You shrugged, making your way over to the other side of his bed to sit down next to him. “I’m pretty sure this is a reward for you, since you want my blood.” You reminded him waving your wrist in front of his face.

There was struggle, Jungkook’s eager bloodshot eyes now zoning in on the span of your wrist. You watched as his adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. He was thirsty.

When his eyes glanced back over to yours, he had desperation screaming from them. His breath turned jagged, inhaling your lingering scent some more. “Noona – please. What do you want?”

You leaned back laying down and used Jungkook’s abdomen as your pillow, staring up at the ceiling. His innocent pleas sounded mesmerizing to you. You wanted to hear him talk, to confess.

“Besides my blood what do you want, Jungkook?”

Jungkook leered down at you. With this angle he can see the expanse of your neck on show, stretched long and elevated on his waist. He can only dream about sinking his fangs into that supple skin, slurping up whatever poured out of you.

“I want to put my mouth on you.” He declared.

You rolled your eyes, turning to face him. “I said besides my blood.” Indicating that he would want to repeat the same process as last time.

“Not down there. Not right now at least.” His eyes conveyed a secret promise.

A blush snuck up to your cheeks, raising the color of your skin to a warmer shade.

“Would you like that, Noona? Will you let me put my mouth on you?” He said with excitement. The strain of his wrists tugged at the post, Jungkook eyeing you through heavy lids. “Please, let me do something. I’ve been smelling you all night.”

On a whim you perched yourself up over Jungkook, straddling above his waist. “No.” You smiled wryly once you grabbed at the hem of his shirt.

Jungkook parted his lips, licking over his set of teeth. The two of you exchanged a brief heated look, a challenging gaze. Then the sudden tear of his shirt ripped in two as you tore the seam apart with all your might. You exposed his flexed stomach all the way to the top of his chest. “And that’s for my shorts and underwear.”

Jungkook whined, not at the lose of his shirt, but at the bold movement of your actions. It was hot. Your initiative was something he’s never seen before coming from you. And the image of you hovering your dirty flower right above his pelvis is forever going to be ingrained into his memory.

His chiseled upper body was on full display for your eyes now, disregarding the shreds of his shirt still linked around his arms. Fuck, Jungkook was sexy. The entire idea of this sculpted creature under your demand was turning you on second by second and you decided to take advantage of your leverage.

“Noona, just a taste please?” Jungkook begged with a reedy voice. He thrusted his hips up into you, wiggling his eyebrows. He was under your control, completely wrapped around your finger and it didn’t stop him from begging.

You fingered at his nipples, running your thumbs around the softened skin to cause them to perk up. You traced patterns with the tips, running up and down along his abs. “Where do you want to put your mouth?” You inquired. Tapping your digits around his cool skin. “Here?” you prodded, pointing at his upper chest right under his clavicle. “Hm, what about here?” you ran your finger over the prominent vein that bulged out of the side of his neck from constraint.

You watched the way Jungkook’s eager looks turned into anguish, the agony of not having what he craved was tormenting. Your teasing wasn’t helping, you were testing him.

“Anywhere.” He stuttered. “Everywhere.”

Jungkook gasped when you pushed down your weight onto his hips, his growing bulge now receiving attention instead. You smirked; you knew Jungkook was turned on by this. “Jeon? What do we have here?”

He swallowed thickly. Trying to straighten out his mind to respond to you properly but nothing but natural instincts were getting in the way. “I’m hard. I’m horny. And you’re extremely hot right now. As much as I am hungry, I’m thinking many other things about you right now.”

“Enlighten me, Koo.”

Jungkook dropped his head back onto the pillow under him with a whimper. He was parched, he was sexually aroused, and infuriated that he couldn’t do anything about either of them.

“Noona please!” He cried. “Do whatever you want, please. Just help me out.” Jungkook drawled on and on. His wrists continued to strain against the custom-made handcuffs that burned into his skin, rendering him from movements.

Jungkook pointed with his chin towards the junction of your bodies, “Help me.”

It dawned on you, how sleeping with your roommate right now probably wouldn’t be the wises of ideas. And those uncertainties were calculating on your face. Jungkook notices this, jumping at his opportunity to speak. “Y/n. Hey – Look at me. I’m okay with this.” His voice came out soft, still whimpering under you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Fuck yes! You have no idea how much I need you to touch me right now.”

You hesitantly unbuckled his belt and unlooped the button to his jeans. His dick was prominently swollen, being constricted against the layers of materials. With a swift tug at his bottoms just below the curve of his ass, you released the beauty of his hardened thick cock, red at the tip with a spruce of precum glossing over the head.

Jungkook exhaled a shuttered breath, his cock aching to be touched. His member twitches cutely at the ghost of your hand hovering above it, and another whine resonated through his nose. You couldn’t help but admire the curve of his dick, the vein that ran over the underside of it. How soft his frenulum looked to the touch.

“Is this what you want Kook?” you firmly grasped at the base of his dick, right above the well-groomed hairs. His hips jolted up at your touch, flexing his muscles and pulling his arms from the restraints.

“Y – Yes!” he choked out. “Help me Noona. I promise I’ll be good for you.”

You didn’t doubt his promised plea. Last time he promised you something he surely delivered it.

You smothered his leaky precum over the head and through the slit. Fisting his shaft nicely just to watch Jungkook thrust his head back further into the bed. The angel of his jaw tilted back that showed up his thick neck was a delicious sight to witness.

To surprise him, you dipped your head down. Kissing your lips to the tip of his dick and running your tongue along the area. You hummed in satisfaction when Jungkook’s thighs started to shake underneath you. Who knew you’d have this power and demand over your friend.

Your mouth sank down, taking him in an inch and he choked out vowels. He tasted of a sweet salt, miraculously this part of his vampire body remained animated. “Noona!” His teeth remained clenched together, fangs threatening to bite into his bottom lip. “Don’t stop.”

The wetness of your mouth coated along the rest of his cock, submerging him as far as you can go and wrapping your hand around whatever portion you couldn’t reach. His tip touched the back of your throat when you took him in. Subconsciously you made sure to suck hard as you pulled away.

A string of saliva linked between your mouth and his dick, thinning out right before it snapped. Jungkook groaned out at the sight. He was painfully hard, and his stomach constantly reminded him he needed to drink before he depleted himself.

He whimpered as you abandoned his member, letting it relax against his stomach. He huffed out with a buck of his hips, “I was good to you last time!” he reminded.

“That you were.” You sat at the edge of the bed, untucking your blouse from the band of your pants. “So good.” You blushed.

“What are you doing?” His kicked you softly with the side of his foot. Your fingers found their way to the zipper of your bottoms, undoing them and shimmying them off. The blouse and bra you wore was soon tossed to the side. “I’m going to ride you if you let me.” You peered over your shoulder, baring your backside to him.

Jungkook’s eyes lit up, beaming the red hues that decorated them. “Yes, please. My god – please ride me.”

You straddled yourself over Jungkook’s waist, making sure not to fully sit down on top of him just yet. You wanted to tease him of the sight from a few weeks ago. Your lovely lady-bits wafting his favorite flavors together. “I guess I was bleeding a little bit huh?” You laughed to yourself.

His mouth watered; lips parted. Your smell lingers into his nose and filled his lungs. Jungkook was thankful you tied him up otherwise he was sure to have attacked you to get this treat.

“Rub yourself on me, please. I want you to coat my dick.”

He caught you by surprise, this lewd sentence spilling out of his mouth. But you conceded, sitting yourself back on his throbbing member, just to run yourself up and down on it. Your wetness caused an embarrassing and loud squelching noise, your taint painted on Jungkook’s cock like a canvas.

He met the swing of your hips with his own, grinding up into your slick sex. His pressure was forceful up into your folds as if his dick was asking for permission to enter you. “Is this what you want?” you teased again.

He nods vigorously, controlling his impulse to thrust up into you. His hunger remained dominant, but the lust for you became top priority.  

You locked eyes with him the second the tip of his dick threatened to push past your hole. He was yearning to break through and glide his dick against your velvety sleek walls. His lips are pink and bitten while he continued to let out those cute pleading noises you enjoy hearing so much. Jungkook’s eyes fluttered closed in a tormented bliss.

He was ultimately at your mercy, within your clutches and you could break him at any moment. Leave him hot and heavy to get back at him if you really wanted to. You didn’t speak, just waiting for a sign that he was close to his breaking point.

Jungkook whines again brokenly, “Please, please Noona. I want to be inside you. Can I please?”

So needy. So deprived of his wants and wishes. You feel for him, you really do. Feeling him shake like a leaf from the anticipation of plunging his cock so far up into you. And you allow it.

You leaned down further, allowing just the head to sink in. He groans out your name the moment you slipped him back out, just to repeat the process once again now easing yourself all the way down on him. You stiffed a moan yourself, humming along with the series of loud whiny noises escaping his mouth.

“No more ignoring me, Koo.” You rolled your hips up. “If we have a problem, we should address it. Right?” You circled, bobbing yourself on his cock. “Right?” Your hands found perch on his chest, pinching his nipples enough to harden them and forcing an animalistic growl out from Jungkook.

He gasps, choking out breaths, “Right!” his eyes skewed shut. Jungkook’s wrists were bleeding, pinned together tightly. His lust fogged mind wished to get his hands on you, to guide the movements of your hips or even flip you over just to pound himself inside your cunt.

His eyes opened just enough to stare at the way your body moved on top of him, a small raspy groan leaving him. God you look like a delicious treat – he’s even questioning himself how he lasted this long without taking you before.

The pants that hugged his thighs were preventing him from widening his legs. The fabric softening the blow of your ass landing down on him. The stinging burn of pain mixed with the immense pleasure of your pussy clenching around his smooth cock has got him spinning down in spirals.

“I – I’m, Noona. So close.”

“No.” You asserted, slowing down your pace to a halt. “Not yet.”

Jungkook kicked his feet out, eyes blown wide. “What, Why!?” His cock twitched inside of you the same way his hips jerked up.

“Bite me first.” Your wrist made its way in front of Jungkook’s mouth. His tongue swiped out licking your delicate skin. His mouth latches onto you with no hesitation, the sharpness of his fangs burying themselves inside forcing you to hiss at the sudden infliction.

It was like biting into a peach, liquid spilling all over her mouth. Jungkook sucked with fervor, drinking down your delectable juicy liquid while his hips jutted up into you. He wanted you to continue, keep moving before his orgasm gets denied. He muffled a cry against your bleeding wrist when you swivel your hips at a certain angle.

You were panting in the open air, picking up your speed to meet his urgency. Face gorgeously flustered, unshed tears sparkling from Jungkook’s eyes. Your blood pushed Jungkook over the edge, freefalling down into a pit of pure bliss. He chases his orgasm, using a sharp uncoordinated sloppy thrust to bury his cock deep inside your cunt as he came. Cum jetting out of him in streams like a fountain.

His fangs retracted from your wrist, being replaced with light butterfly kisses over the wounded area. Jungkook flops back to the pillow, short of breath. Portions of your blood smeared around his lips and also his dick.

“Holy shit – “ his words faltered.

You gave him his moment, allowing him to take it all in before you moved off of him. Lifting your body off of Jungkook he cuts your action with a sharp tone, “Where are you going?” His eyes dawdled on your exposed body, forcing you to freeze mid pull-out.

“I? I was going to clean up?”

He shook his head frantically, “Don’t get off me just yet. Ah. You didn’t cum – I want to make you cum.” Jungkook edged his hips up with a spasm of overstimulation, his member hiding back inside of you. “Sit back down on me please.”

He was softening inside of you; you can feel it slowly shrink and the idea of cock-warming to get you off wasn’t something that sounded promising.

“Kook, it’s really okay. I don’t need to.”

“I want you to. Get me out of these chains.”

You sighed, leaning forward enough to hold Jungkook’s cock inside of your super slippery walls. Giving Jungkook the opportunity to place hot open-mouth kisses to your breasts that dangled down in front of him. The make-shift bondage was released, pulling the chains off of his ruined wrists. They’ll heal back shortly anyways.

His hands latched to your waist in a blink of an eye, digging his nails into your skin. There was a pool of mixed liquids between the two of you, glistening in the light. He didn’t bother to yank his pants off, he wanted to focus on you instead. He guided you to run your hips a certain way, tilting them down so your clit can run against his pelvis.

“Hold me inside you, can you do that for me Noona? I’ll get hard again just by watching you use me.”

His voice was filthy whispering those sentences in the air. Involuntarily causing you to clutch around his dick.

“Ah – just like that,’ he cooed. “Play with me, do what you want.”

He continued to pilot your lower half on him, running your drenched pussy into him. Your breath turned labored; clit throbbing with sensitivity from the build up of stimulation. Your hands ran the expanse of his chest, his biceps, around his collarbones and up. Finger’s interlacing with the tendrils of his hair at the nape of his neck.

He was bringing you close to your release just as his cock started stiffening back up. Your breath caught in your throat, a brief squirm of your body reacting to his dick prodding into your sweet spot.

Your mouth dropped open, pleasure taking over your face. “Right there?” Jungkook taunted. “You like my dick against that spot?” You nodded like a bobble-head. He moved you again, repeating the action.

You never noticed how your hips were moving on their own accord now, how greedy you were being as you used your roommate as a pleasure toy. A very hot, sexy, vampiric sex toy indeed.

The moans escaping you were coming out as a song, heighten with each second your lower stomach started tingling. It was happening. You were at the brink of your orgasm, railing your clit into Jungkook. “Fu – fuck. Kook!” Your eyes clamped shut and your bottom lip was bruising from your demanding teeth. “I’m so – gasps – im so close.”

You practically hiccuped the moment his fingers pinched your bundle of nerves, tweaking it between the two digits. Forcing your body to thrust forward with a maddened cry. Orgasm after orgasm erupted through you, vibrations shooting through your body the same way you squirted all around Jungkook.

Jungkook caught you before you could collapse on top of him, sitting his body up so he could hold you in his arms. He petted your hair as you rested your head in the crook of his neck trying to calm down from the aftershocks of your numbing body.

“Hey, it’s alright, I gotcha.”

The warmth of your body captivated him. Your smell of arousal and blood dampening his body and sheets are sure to stir some problems in the future if he didn’t get it cleaned up quickly.

“Thanks…” you murmured under your breath, inhaling his manly scent.

“Clean I get you cleaned up?”

You nodded, circling your arms a and latching your legs around him. Exhaustion was whipping over you and you swore you started to see stars in your peripherals. What was it about Jungkook that caused the best orgasms you’ve ever received?

He chuckled, “Noona, I’m still inside you right now. If I’m gonna clean you up, I need to be able to move. You’ve made a mess everywhere.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to get a better view of your blush fucked-out face.

“I feel a little weak.” You embarrassingly whispered.

“Of course you do – I fed on your blood. And you came about 3 times in a row.” He held you tighter, shifting himself to swing his legs to the edge of the bed. Everywhere was soaked. Leaking fluids colliding with anything it touched. It was then he decided sleeping in your clean bed will be easier for the both of you. “I’ll get you something filled with vitamins to help you replenish.” He gave a quick peck to your temple, examining the way you dozed off.

© All rights reserved under @kimtaehyunq​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This tumblr is the ONLY place my fics are posted.

[fbfh]

“forever” paxton hall-yoshida x reader

genre: fluffy romance + mutual pining (not too slowburn tho lol)

word count: 3.4k

au: none?? jock x theatre nerd ig

pairing: Paxton x broadway baby!reader 

requested: yes !! i hope u like it uwu

warnings: one hell one motherfucking and i think that’s it for swearing?? um brief self deprecating/talking bad abt urself from paxton (bby boy needs a self love boost), reader and paxton are home alone together for a little while but nothing bad happens, uh,,, i think that’s it

summary: when Eleanor can’t run lines with you, she sends over a very attractive, mutually pining substitute.

reccomended songs: “Seventeen” - Tuck everlasting OBC, “The Kiss” -The Princess Diaries score

a/n: i’m p sure i kept the reader p gender neutral but there’s implied slightly long hair, and you play the lead (a girl named winnie) in ur schools production of tuck everlasting but like it’s theatre so anyone can play anyone lol,, this took so got dam long bc i’m fucking s o f t for jock x artist and it just sorta happened lol aLsO,, not super thoroughly edited so there might be a typo or two?? im tired lol

requests r open <3

You had only ever seen two athletes present during rehearsals. Once when Madeline (who at the time was playing Penny in your production of Hairspray) was dating a guy from the soccer team. The other was when the star of the basketball team had come in to give your choreographer pointers for the basketball scenes during High School Musical. 

Until now.

You had run onstage part of the way through “Live Like This”, which wasn’t out of the ordinary since so much progress had been made on the costumes. You were still tying the ribbon on your pinafore as you jumped into the song, but when your eyes met a face in the usually empty auditorium, you faltered. You almost sang the wrong verse, but recovered quickly, continuing with the blocking. What felt like a moment later, the number was almost done and you were nearing the end of your counterpoint with Mae Tuck - played by Eleanor, of course. Who could be better for the part? You held out the last note, trying to stay in character despite all the distractions in the back of your mind. You had to talk to Eleanor when the director called for 10; she’d started telling you how Devi was being weird recently. Also, what the Hadestown was Paxton Hall-Yoshida doing chilling in the auditorium? You shoved all that away, focusing on staying in character until the director called for a break. 

‘I want to go to the fair. I want to go so badly! I just need a change, need to get out of this house for a little while. I never do anything, so this can’t be asking for too much, right?’ 

You projected all that into your everything - face, voice, mannerisms, energy.

“Hold!” 

Everyone froze.

The director wrote a few things on his paper, sighed, and underlined something several times. 

“Okay, good job! I need to revise some of the blocking, then we’ll do notes, so take ten.” Your sudden nerves had definitely made you pitchy, you knew that would be one of your notes for sure. 

A chorus of “Thank you ten”s erupted, and you immediately ran to Eleanor, telling the others good job as you passed. 

You leaned in and started speaking to her, quietly.

“Okay you need to finish telling me about Devi, and that other news you’re being so cryptic about! Also, what’s up with Fierro over there?” you nodded towards Paxton hoping he wouldn’t see, and you noticed Fab is sitting near him. You realized they’re probably waiting for Eleanor and/or Devi. That must be it, he’s been hanging out with them lately, right? Eleanor gasped.

“You’re right! Paxton is such a Fierro!”

You cringed inwardly a little bit as her voice carried through the auditorium, mixing with the others. Your eyes darted over to him for a fraction of a second. Oh god. He was looking at you. Or in your general direction at least. Lena, the costumer, walked around the set gingerly, following you around and getting you out of your dress incredibly carefully as you and Eleanor walked off stage. 

“No! Well, yes- but no. What’s he doing here? Jocks never come here during rehearsals. I saw Fab too, are you guys and Devi getting dinner or something?” You said, entering the auditorium, and stepping out of the dress. You grabbed sweatpants and a silky, floral kimono jacket from your bag to throw over your leotard and tights. She waved back at Fab before sitting down in the front. You both grabbed your fans and dramatically flicked them open in sync. Your wrists fluttered, cooling both of you off.  A knowing, and slightly mischievous, look came on her face. 

“Devi and Fab and I are. Paxton must be here for something… else.” she shrugged, nodding towards Paxton. You looked over again. He was staring at you. You did a double take and tried to hold back your smile. 

“Wh- I do not know to what you are referring.” 

“To what I am referring is the blush on his cheeks.”

You barely held back a nervous, bubbling laugh.

“He is not blushing! Why would he be blushing!”

“I don’t know,” She shrugged, “Just like how I don’t know that he’s been loitering in the halls outside the music room during your last three solo music rehearsals.”

You struggled for an answer. Before you could form one, you were interrupted.

“Okay, okay what is the best Lin Manuel Miranda musical? Because Kathryn thinks it’s Hamilton-” 

“Duh!”

“-But I think it’s In the Heights! It’s an underrated jewel!” Jonah interjected, still wearing his Jesse Tuck hat. 

You considered for a moment.

“I mean, they’re too different to compare. In the Heights has the same energy as Rent - showcasing what goes on in ordinary people’s lives, and how love ties us all together,” he nodded in agreement, “But Hamilton is on a way larger scale, almost Les Mis meets Fun Home vibes. But in terms of personal preference…” Eleanor scoffed at your answer, and Jonah went back to debate further with Kathryn.

“Anyway,” you turned back to Eleanor to ask her what the hell she meant by Paxton Hall-Yoshida was blushing. But before you could-

“Eleanor, we need you to try on your blue dress again,” Lena was already pulling her away, “I had the empire waist in the right place but half the pins fell out, and it’s just...” And she was whisked away before you could finish the thought. You just had time to help Holly get out her wig pins and drink some lemon water before notes. Eleanor still wasn’t back, so you made sure to write down hers for her. It was pretty standard; be quiet backstage, go over your lines, don’t touch props that aren’t yours, don’t eat in costume, and a couple blocking changes you made note of. After your end of rehearsal warm downs and huddle, everyone left relatively quickly. You ducked into the bathroom to freshen up a little. Sometimes it was hard coming down from such intense energy after rehearsal. You mentally ran through your to do list. You needed to get some more tea, write that essay when you got home, go over your notes- You gasped, cutting off your own train of thought. You ran out of the bathroom to look for Eleanor, still clutching her notes in hand. 

~

Your voice still echoed in Paxton’s ears. He wished he had a whole album of you singing. Your voice made him want to ruin his spotify algorithm by listening to nothing else. You had looked at him a couple times, and his heart had almost stopped. He didn’t know eye contact could be so intense. It’s probably just cause you’re like, the only person in the audience. Where else is she supposed to look? He deflated a little. He heard his name and looked over to you and Eleanor talking together. Hopefully it was about him. Hopefully it was good. He checked his phone, trying to look busy. When he glanced up to see if you were looking, you were gone. He started to look around for you when he saw Eleanor waving at Fab, and sure enough, you were next to her. What he didn’t expect was you dropping your dress to the ground. Time slowed down (and his heart sped up) as you stretched a little, and pulled out sweatpants from your bag.

Wow.

 You had on what looked like a bathing suit on underneath, and a few other people had done the same, but he knew that image would be in his memory, probably forever. His heart was beating in his ears and he knew he must be blushing.

“You okay, Paxton?” Fab asked, a seat or two away. Oh god, he didn’t want people asking why he blushed every time he looked at you! He muttered something about needing to make a call and headed for the doors. Don’t look back at her, don’t look back at her… His eyes involuntarily darted in your direction right before he left. You had on a flowy translucent jacket, your hair thrown back supermodel style as you fanned yourself to cool down. He needed to cool down too. Maybe a cold shower, a really cold shower.

~

You managed to find Eleanor just before she left. Two girls were with her, you had seen Fab once, and you’d heard a lot about Devi, but had never been introduced. 

You gave Eleanor her notes, and she hugged you.

“You’re a lifesaver!” 

“Of course, I-”

“Uh, who’s this?” you looked over, and the shorter girl - Devi, based on what you’d heard about her -  was giving you a weird look. You introduced yourself. 

“Nice to meet you. How do you know Eleanor?” said the taller girl - definitely Fab.

“Oh,” you smiled, “she’s my almost mother in law. And my arch rival,” you counted on your fingers, “my sister, my niece, my lover, my husband, and…” you trailed off, trying to think of the other dynamics your characters had had in past shows.

“Your co-conspirator.” 

“Right,” you laughed. Devi and Fab looked at you two.

“We’re in the musical together.” you clarified. You were about to part ways when you called to Eleanor, “Hey, we’re still on for running lines tomorrow night?” 

“Uh… Sounds good!” she walked away quickly, speaking to Devi and Fab in hushed tones. Something was definitely up. That was typical Eleanor Scheming behavior. 

~

That night, you almost couldn’t sleep. This wasn’t the normal post rehearsal can’t sleep. In fact, Tuck Everlasting was the last thing on your mind as you readjusted your pillows and snuggled into your duvet. You stared at the neon blue stars projected and swirling on your ceiling. You sighed. Again. Your brain was a 24/7 livestream of Paxton Hall-Yoshida to relax/study to. You saw him again, his face in the dimly lit auditorium, Adonis in a sea of faded seats. If you hadn’t been sure before, you knew now that red was definitely his color. You rolled onto your side. Your heart picked up speed as a thought crossed your mind. You could almost see Paxton now, kneeling next to you, his fingertips brushing your cheek. The piano underscore to “Seventeen” ran through your mind. You could imagine him saying “Wait with me, we could share the world…” so vividly it almost hurt. He leaned in, and… 

You let out a loud sigh and rolled over again. Your heart was fully saturated. That’s more than enough pining for tonight. 

~

“Paxton!” 

He was a little surprised when Eleanor just walked up to him at lunch the next day. Most people were too intimidated to approach him out of the blue. 

“I have a plan.”

“Uh, I don’t know what you-”

“Cut the crap, I know you like her.” 

His face blanched. Well, yeah of course he did. Who wouldn’t? He was going to ask Eleanor if there was something he could do to win you over, just not here, not now. Not where everyone could watch and jeer and rib him for it. Just like they were doing now. 

“Woah, dude, who is it?” Trent asked. He fumbled for words. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He hadn’t kept his crush a secret because he was embarrased of you, he’d kept it a secret because his dumbass friends wouldn’t get you. Hell, he barely got you. You were so deep, and emotive, and artistic... 

“Bro, if you like her as much as it seems like you do,” Trent continued, “you gotta win her over.” He was a little shocked at the agreement murmuring through his group of friends. He didn’t know how to respond. Trent turned to Eleanor.

“What’s the plan, drama mama?”

“First of all,” she said, an almost humorously dangerous look on her face, “never call me that again. Second,” she shoved some papers into Paxton’s hands, “meet me in the music room immediately after school.” She started back for her table. Trent looked back over to Paxton. 

“You gotta do it, dude. We’ll cover for you at swim.” 

The rest of his friends agreed. He was pleasantly surprised at how supportive they were being. 

“Yeah, I guess... we’ve got a plan.”

~

The next day went by pretty smoothly. No rehearsal was scheduled since they were finishing construction for some of the sets, but everyone was instructed to do a couple read throughs of the script, focusing on scenes they’re still forgetting, to make sure everyone’s off book. You stopped by 7 Eleven to get a blue slurpee (for homework) and a couple coconut waters (for run throughs). You texted Eleanor on your way to the slurpee machine. 

okay so do you like the mango coconut water or the pineapple one?? It’s the mango one right?? i always forget lmao

sent at 4:16 pm

btw I don’t have that much homework so you can probs come by around 5:30 if you’re ready by then

sent at 4:16 pm

Bae Tuck

OMFG!! I totally forgot about running lines tonight, I can’t make it! :( but I’ll send someone over to help you out. :)

sent at 4:17 pm

You squinted at your screen. That was weird. Eleanor never used colon parentheses smilies. Like, ever. She always used emojis, and usually way more than two per text. 

yeah np, are u good? ♡

sent at 4:17 pm

Bae Tuck

Yes :)

sent at 4:18 pm

Bae Tuck

Also get the passionfruit one 🥥🍠 👀

sent at 4:18

that’s,,, el that’s a sweet potato,,

sent at 4:19 pm

Bae Tuck

Close enough 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

sent at 4:19pm

...Okay? That was definitely weird. You shook it off and headed for the counter to pay. You stopped half way there, and turned back to swap the mango for passionfruit. 

Not long after you had finished your homework and tidied up your room a little, the doorbell rang. You exited the kitchen, drinks in hand, and opened the door. Your heart caught in your throat. Paxton Hall-Yoshida was standing outside. And you were pretty sure he looked nervous. You both just stood there for a second. No one breathed, no one spoke. 

“Uh, hi, do you want to…” you backed up, motioning for him to come inside. 

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, entering the doorway. Paxton motherfucking Hall-Yoshida was in your living room. You held out a hand to him.

“Coconut water?” he took the box, looked at the label, and smiled. 

“Yeah, thanks,” he said again, this time a faint, yet unmistakable note of joy in his voice. He took a sip. He smiled.

“Passionfruit’s my favorite.” You silently thanked Eleanor, who you knew must have planned all this. Most of the evening was a blur, and you thanked god your family wasn’t home right now. You went upstairs, texted Eleanor asking what the actual fuck, made some surprisingly comfortable small talk, then filled him in on how to run lines. 

“Do you think playing the soundtrack would help you… get into character?” he asked. 

“I would probably just end up singing the whole thing,” You laughed and tried to ignore the butterflies in your chest. The main scene you struggled with was before “Seventeen”. It was harder to get into Winnie’s head because you had no romantic feelings for Jonah, and you always just made each other laugh. You had started with a few easier scenes of Winnie and Jesse, like the fair, and the dialogue before “Top of the World”. 

“That was really good,” he said, and you felt the sincerity of his words. 

“Thanks…” you smiled and took a sip of coconut water, hoping you weren’t blushing too hard. 

“So what next?” he asked. 

“Probably the scene before ‘Seventeen’,” you said, giving him the page and scene number, “it’s one of the hardest ones for me. I guess I just can’t connect to Jonah the way Winnie does.” 

“Huh,” he said, skimming the page. When you looked up at him, he had something between a smile and a smirk playing at his lips. You made yourself look away before you got too distracted. You refused to think about the fact that you were sitting across from Paxton Hall-Yoshida on your bed, in your room, like you were… close with each other. His eyes skimmed the script, finding the dialogue. He glanced up at you and nodded, indicating he found his place. You began.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t get away,” you said, jumping into character.

“I may be 102, but I can still outrun anyone,” a smile played at his lips. You smiled, then let your face fall.

“I’m so sorry, I-I tried to warn you-”

“No, no,” he interjected almost seamlessly, “It’s okay, it’s… refreshing having someone look after me who isn’t my mom.” His eyes flickered between your face and the page. You smiled with him for a second, then let distress cloud your face.

“Jesse… that man came by my house today. He heard the music box, he knows about you-”

“I know he knows…” 

You continued on with the scene and he trailed off when he came to the sheet music for the song Seventeen. You took in a breath to start the dialogue in the middle of the song, but before you could…

“Six years from now you will turn seventeen,

Turn seventeen,

The same age as me,

Six years from now,

Go to the spring,

Go to the spring and drink…”

He was singing to you. He was looking at you and singing to you. His eyes only flickered down to the page to confirm the lyrics. He was nervous, you could tell. But through his hesitance, the emotion in his voice was sincere. Your heart was beating faster. You didn’t even notice your pulse was ringing in your ears, you were too focused on Paxton. 

“I'll wait for you till you turn seventeen,

Turn seventeen,

The same age as me,

Six years from now,

Go to the spring,

Go to the spring and drink…” Your hand rose to cover your mouth. He hesitated, and you remembered your dialogue.

“Uh, wh-what if I… forget where the spring is?” He reached out and took your free hand in his. Your pulse was off the charts. “I’ll go get you some water. Just… remember to keep it somewhere safe. Somewhere no one will find it.” You got the feeling he wasn’t just talking about the water. You knew he had never really been in a serious relationship before, and it clicked suddenly - if he learned an entire song to duet with you, just how much he must like you. You exhaled a breathy laugh, unsure how to process the sudden euphoria you felt. 

“You make the world sound so… exciting. I just want to drink the water right now!”

“Uh, no. You have to wait.” you both smiled, anticipating the upcoming joke.

“Why?” you ask, “What’s the difference?” You held your breath as he tried not to laugh through the delivery of the punchline. 

“Believe me,” he rubbed his thumb over your hand, “there’s a difference.” You both chuckled, and he continued singing. You were so focused on him, so… touched that he would do all this for you. 

“Winnie, wait with me,

And we could be married,

Winnie, wait with me,

And we'll share the world,

Winnie, you can stop time,

And live like this,

Forever…”

“I could live like this forever,” you echoed.

“Live like this...” you sang in tandem.

“What do you say, Winnie? Do you want to…” he broke character suddenly, and asked, his eyes boring into yours, “Do you want to go out some time?” 

He could see the adorable smile blooming on your face, even from behind your hand. You nodded.

“Yes, I-I would love that,” and you began to sing the last line in the song, “Forever-” 

But before you finished holding out the note, his lips were on yours. His mouth moved slowly, intentionally, against yours. You followed his lead, flustered. He leaned further forward, his palm caressing your cheek. It was everything you imagined it would be, and you had quite the imagination. Your head was angled up and your hands rested themselves on his back, one tracing little shapes. Your shoulders were pressed against each other and neither of you could think. He was so warm. He tasted like coconut and passion fruit, and a distant part of your mind silently thanked Eleanor again. 

You really could live like this forever.

[crazy4myself]

No Harm List Pt.4

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy's life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

Trigger warnings: DESCRIPTION OF PANIC ATTACK!! I really took my time with writing this, trying my hardest to convey these feelings without being triggering. I also tried to make it as comforting as possible, but if you are feeling a little anxious maybe save this fic for a better day. Mental health first!  

Additional warnings: mentions of violence, explicit language, mentions of death,

Genre: Romance, angst, violence, gang/mafia AU, 

Rating: 18+  (bc of mentions of violence there’s no sexual content)

<- Pt.3

"Hobi, I don't wanna be mad. I just wanna know the truth,” you pleaded, voice wavering. And that was the truth, you felt like you could care less if he was in a gang. It was Alcorn, you had to be in a gang to survive if you weren't rich.

Upon seeing your eyes water and your lip tremble, Hoseok instantly wished you would scream at him. He didn't want to hurt you. He didn't mean for it to go this far. For you two to get so close after his sister's death, or for him to lie to you for so long. He told himself he kept you out of it for your safety, but really it was just too easy for him to live two lives, for you to look at him like he wasn't a murderer and for him to pretend for a few hours that he wasn't. 

He sighed, sitting on the couch, and you plopped down next to him and waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. 

"I guess it's best to start at the very beginning, which was when I was around 16," he started. 

"I lived in the same neighborhood as these two guys RM and Suga. They had actually served some time for getting busted with another gang, the Dime Lions, they're long gone now but basically, some shit went down during some kind of gang raid, and RM and Suga ended up taking the fall for it. Instead of the Dime Lions busting them out of jail, they left them there and basically disowned them afterward."

You nodded along to let him know you were following. 

"Anyways RM and Suga, they had a rough start when they got out of the gang, both were bastards, street rats on the Westside they never had anyone to look out for them. So they did the only thing they could do at the time to survive, which was breaking it to cars and shit and cleaning them out. I don't just mean personal belongings of these guys took engine parts, piping, tiers they took it all, and sold it to any scrap shops they could find. At the time, I was working at my uncle's scrapyard. I knew RM and Suga when they were in middle school before they joined the Dime Lions. They stayed with the foster family that lived in my neighborhood. I knew they had been kicked out of the house and were basically living with the Lion's, so when I saw they were working alone, I got curious. For a year or so, I convinced my uncle to continue buying from them even when he started getting a little suspicious about the guys stealing. The guys knew I looked out for them, and we were cool for a while. Then my mom got sick," he paused for a moment looking away from you.

You reached out and placed your hand on his leg knowing how hard it was for him to talk about his mom and Dawon. 

Collecting himself, Hoseok went on, "So I asked for an in with the guys, I needed money and I knew cars. I could remove the parts more effectively than they could. I also knew some clientele who were always coming by and buying parts because they flip cars for fun, those guys were easy targets. So I guess the three of us were a little gang of misfits for a while, I used the money to help pay for mom's treatment. They used the money to survive.

Then we started taking some younger ones under our wing. RM and Suga got their own place and opened their doors to some kids in a rough spot like they were. But as we got bigger, we started getting sloppy. We had been at it for about a year at this point. The guys started taking on some other jobs, but I stuck to what I did best. I wasn't really interested in broadening my horizons. Like I said, we had been at it for a while, and I got cocky, I guess. We had a few scuffles here and there, but we always got out of them okay. Then one night, we got busted scraping a car at some guy's house, and he shot me in the leg, and the cops got me. RM ended up bailing me out of jail, and Suga, Suga got me a gun." 

He shifted in his seat and looked at you nervously, "I wanted out at this point, mom was basically on her deathbed, and I was all Dawon had. I couldn't risk going to jail, ya know. I owed RM money for bail, but my uncle got me a job as an actual mechanic, I thought I could earn money the honest way, pay them back and then Dae and I could just go back to our lives. But then the doctors told us about some experimental treatment that could possibly cure mom. How the hell could I pass that up? I would have done anything to help her get better." his brows furrowed as he tightened his fist into balls.

 "So I stayed. At this point, BTS was growing, it was an official gang, tattoo and all. We had recruited Jin, who came from money, he used some of his trust fund to fund BTS and help us grow, and RM was starting to get a little ambitious. He wanted territory, he wanted me to take the tattoo and be his third." Hobi squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a sigh, he felt like he had to force the words out of him to confess his sins to you. 

"I told you Suga got me a gun after the arrest, and it ended up I'm a really good shot, so good I didn't even have to kill a guy for a long time. I researched where to shoot to keep someone down for a long while without it being fatal, so that's what I did. I worked a few more jobs for RM, we did a big heist. Actually, that was our big break. A team of six other guys and I broke into this old rich dude's mansion, nearly cleaned out his safe when we split the money most of the guys put a percentage into my pot. I walked out that night with almost enough to pay for mom's treatment in full. 

I told RM I wouldn't be his third, and he offered me an out, I just needed to take one more job for him, and he would pay out the rest of mom's bills, so that's what I did. I killed for the first time, and then I was free. I wouldn't have to do any of it again. Well, that's what I intended," he paused, his voice growing softer. 

You tried to keep your face neutral as he revealed the horrors to you. Not that it mattered Hoseok couldn't even bring himself to look at you.

"Mom ended up passing that night." he laughed, a bitter sound that felt foreign to the kind man you knew, "I swear whatever cruel god is out there pulling all the strings did it to punish me. To let me know, they saw what I had become and that I didn't deserve to have people I love in my life. I wasn't good enough to feel love in this world," 

"Hobi, that's not-" he cut you off with a bitter laugh as he looked upwards to hold back his tears. The motion made him seem as though he was searching for the fates he mocked. "Don't y/n, I know what I am,"

"Dae was a senior when mom passed, and it absolutely broke her. I had to fight to get her to go to school for those last few months. Hell, it was a fight to get her out of bed for her graduation. Her exit exams were a disaster, and the councilors at the college were understanding, for the most part. They still admitted her to the school, but not a drop of financial aid was offered to her. She deserved so much more," Hobi's voice was laced with bitter disdain, his eyes looking far off. 

"So I did everything I could to give it to her. I borrowed from Namjoon, enough to cover her entire admission at Alcorn University."

"Hobi, that's so much," you couldn't hold the comment in. It was near impossible for an ordinary person to buy their way into Alcorn if they didn't get scholarships, the tuition at the prestigious school was over $20,000 a semester for admission alone. 

"And I did it, I had Jin make up a fake scholarship for her, send her a cute little letter telling her about the award. She thought that she earned a full ride, and I let her believe it. I even borrowed enough so she would stay in the dorms, I figured it would be safest to keep her out of the house. I didn't know what kind of jobs RM was going to have me do."

"I took the tattoo, and killing became more of a normal thing for me. It started to get easier, I kept my distance and tried my hardest to not even see their eyes. 

There was a big turf war that year. I don't know, the city was on the brink of a recession, a lot of big players in the city were changing the rules of the game. Business owners fought to take down other businesses simply so theirs could stay open, the market was a disaster. I never cared about the politics of any of it, I just did what I was told, and because of that, I'm still not totally sure all I did that year. What lives I took. Who all I hurt. I did everything I could to forget those nights and the blood. I told myself I was doing it for a good reason, ya know. 

I didn't want to know, I thought I would save that for the day I'm standing outside of hell, and they list off every single one of my evil deeds before they sentence their judgment." Hoseok's vacant eyes started to shine with tears.

 "And that was the stupidest fucking thing I could have ever done. I had no clue who had it out for me, I had started feeling invincible. I didn't even consider that someone would want to take their revenge, I had killed Kim Martin Sr.'s son." 

Your blood chilled at the name, and he didn't look at you as he continued.

"He was some big business owner or something, I was supposed to kill him, but there was a mix-up, and I got his son, Kim Martin Jr. instead. Whoever made the call decided that killing his son was just as effective because the grief practically destroyed him. A few misguided stock investments, while he was grieving, crashed his empire. He lost everything and had to move to the Westside in the aftermath. 

Suga kept good tabs on the guy, but then he fell off the grid. We figured he left town or hell maybe he died. We didn't consider him a threat, he showed no interest in coming after BTS, so I didn't even think to keep an eye out for Dawon."

You felt hot tears roll down your face as you realized what happened. The media painted Martin as the bad guy. They accused him of losing his business after his son died due to extreme drug abuse. The city officials wrote him off as such a pathetic low life, that come the time of his death that his murder was barely investigated. It was simply declared a drug deal gone wrong. But he was a father, a father who lost everything to a hitman and wanted to return the favor. 

Hoseok believed he didn't deserve love. Whatever higher power that was calling the shots took everything away from him as punishment. 

You think of your best friend now long passed, her beautiful smile and contagious laugh. The way she could always read you and knew exactly what you needed, whether it be your favorite ice cream on your period or a trip to the botanical gardens in the middle of the night when she knew you were missing home a bit more than normal.

There was a loose glass in the greenhouse that hosted the plants native to your home. You would both scale the fence to the gardens late at night and push that glass panel in and carefully crawl into the greenhouse. The air would be filled with the floral scents you grew up with, and you would just walk the rows of plants and run your fingers over the velvet petals and waxy leaves. 

Until Dawon would play music, a playlist the two of you made of songs in your native tongue. You would dance around the humid greenhouse singing on the top of your lungs while Dawon would laugh and clap along, excitedly shouting with you when she recognized a word or two. 

You thought about the way you and Hoseok both carried a burden of guilt after she passed. Until now, you had felt like you failed her as a best friend and roommate. 

For three years, you had tortured yourself with thoughts like if you hadn't procrastinated so much on your assignments that week, you would have been home when she decided to make a late snack run. You told yourself the robber probably wouldn't have stopped her if you were together. You reasoned that two of you would have deterred her as a target. 

Or maybe he would have just shot you instead. Dawon would have recovered from the loss so much better, she had Hoseok to comfort her and family and friends to support her. You were merely an exchange student in a city with no morals, loved by no one, but taken in out of guilt by her brother. It would've been a better trade. 

You tortured yourself with these thoughts day and night consumed with feelings similar to survivor's guilt.

You never understood Hoseok's guilt, until tonight, you felt like there was nothing he could have done to make that night play out differently. But now you realize he could have anything, and it might have made a difference. 

"Y/n, I understand if you hate me," Hoseok said softly, watching the tears that dripped down your cheek as you processed everything he told you.

"I wanted to honor Dawon's wish. I didn't expect you to do so much for me, for you to become my best friend and for you to make me feel normal. I kept this from you because you were the closest thing to her I had left. There was a time where I thought I would distance myself from you when you moved out. That I would just become another hazy detail to the tragedy, and you would move on completely with your life, but y/n you were so sad, and you needed me too. 

When you moved out, I was terrified of something happening to you. I couldn't stop myself from checking up on you. I couldn't let us grow apart." Hoseok's voice broke off as you looked at him, the pain and betrayal in your eyes.

 "Y/n, you're the closest thing I have to redemption, protecting you, being your friend is the last thread of humanity I have left, I can't lose you," he pleaded. 

"You watched me blame myself," you whispered accusingly, your eyes shining with betrayal. 

"You watched me tear myself apart, and used comforting me to make you feel better about yourself?" 

He flinched at your words, "I tried everything I could to convince you there was nothing you could have done," Hobi argued feebly. 

"Everything but tell the truth," you hissed as hot tears rolled down your cheek. 

You got up as a sob escaped you, your face red and snot running from your nose. Hoseok stood with you, but you flinched away with a broken no.

 "I need time, Hoseok," you begged. 

You swallowed thickly as you did everything in your power to keep it together, "I don't want to hate you, but please, I need time to think about everything," you assured. Even knowing what he did, he was right. You needed him too. If you lost him, you truly didn't have anyone in the city who cared if you lived or died tomorrow. And maybe settling for that made you your own kind of monster. 

It was funny how he claimed such a tarnished person could be his redemption. 

You secure your bag to your shoulder, stepping out into the night air and pulling the door closed behind you. You couldn't even bring yourself to lock the door behind you, afraid that if you stopped moving for one second that you would completely break down and be unable to make it home. You only hoped Hoseok was smart enough to check the door behind you and make sure to lock it. 

You counted the stairs as you made your descent and into the parking lot, making an effort to take in your surroundings. You tried to list off the colors of the cars as you passed them, and while some distant part of you did the action, you still felt like the effort wasn't reaching whatever corner of your brain you were hiding in. 

You got a lot better with controlling your anxiety attacks as you made it further in college, even going as far as taking advantage of the university's free therapy sessions to get professional guidance in your junior year. You defaulted to your go-to grounding technique as your feet moved of their own accord to carry you home. 5,4,3,2,1 was an exercise that made you aware of your surroundings and tether yourself to this world when your mind felt a dimension away. 

The technique walked you through your five senses, making you list off 5 things you could see, 4 things you could feel, 3 things you could hear, two things you could smell, and one thing you could taste. Even in your most anxious moments, you were a slut for making a good list. You always found this exercise more soothing than any breathing technique. 

Your eyes searched without really seeing as you tried to find five things you could see around you. Straining yourself to really take in your surroundings, you settled for a yellow fire hydrant, a car parked on the side of the road, a penny on the ground, a drainage inlet tucked into the curb, and finally your own yellow shoes pacing down the concrete sidewalk. 

You were going to be okay, you reminded yourself as you took an intentional breath. 

Next, four things you can touch, you focused on your breathing as you reached an arm out to graze your fingertips along with the rough brick of the building you walked by.

You shifted a little more with each step, concentrating on how the fabric of your clothes moved across your skin and curling your toes into the padding of your shoes. You didn't count each feeling, your wandering mind struggling to really take in each sensation, but you were sure you touched four things by now.

This was a mistake you often caught yourself making when counting down like this. Sometimes you were in such a rush to reach the end and get to one as if identifying one taste would magically make all your anxieties go away that you forget to take it slow and really center yourself. 

Three things you can hear, it was at the time, as you strained to let the world in through the all-consuming pounding of your heart in your ears, that you realized you were whimpering to yourself slightly. The awareness of your own vulnerability made you stumble as your mind spiraled, and you struggled to find something to tether you back to the earth. 

You began walking faster before realizing you're not certain you were going the right way. So you came to a halt, realizing you couldn't bring yourself to focus enough to take in your surroundings. You stared at the street sign for a long time, repeating the letters to yourself as you made them form a word finally settling on Gardenia. 

Your breathing hitched as you realized you had wandered off the main streets and into a neighborhood in your daze. You were lost, but you couldn't bring yourself to care about it, and the lack of fear flashed an alarm in your mind that let you know you were too far gone to count away your anxieties.

You struggled to breathe as you tried to come up with a decision. You needed to ground yourself to calm down. You needed to list off 5 things you could see, fourth things you could feel, three things you could hear, two things you could smell, and one thing you could taste. You knew the only way to bring yourself back to the world was to become aware of your settings. 

But it felt as if the part of your brain that knew all these things didn't even touch whatever part of your mind was controlling you now. You were better off giving directions to the light pole you stood under. 

You felt your breathing get harder as you desperately gasped in all the air you could. Your arms and legs began to tingle as your body over oxidized, and your head began to spin. 

Slowly you slumped to the ground, wrapping your arms around the light pole you had stopped under as you spiraled. 

What were you even doing before this moment? How did you even get here? You forced your eyes open wide, hoping the action would make you actually see and register what you were looking at to no avail. 

What were you doing, what were you doing, what were you doing?

You struggled to reign in your thoughts of your laughing best friend and her crying brother. Or was it your crying best friend and his dead sister? 

You were supposed to find three things you could hear. Your crying doesn't count. A more logical voice seemed to get through to you. 

You strained your ears to hear past your own breathing, you could hear a frog croaking in the grass nearby, you felt the earth beneath you to confirm you had in fact settled in a patch of grass. You smiled to yourself proud of your progress as you continued to listen as you continued to listen. You heard the electricity buzzing in the light pole you had wrapped your arms around, you felt almost childlike as you opened your eyes. Actually, seeing this time as you looked up at the pole, you were around. 

You needed one more sound, you strained your ears, expecting to be met with something like a far off car driving by. Instead, you heard your name being called. You blinked as you turned away from the street lamp and towards the repeating sound of a familiar set of syllables coming from a familiar voice. 

Jungkook jogged up to as he saw you curled around a lamppost. Even from a distance, he could see the rapid way your chest was rising and falling in that familiar chaotic rhythm he only saw when he found Taehyung or Yoongi having a panic attack. You looked up at him with a tear-stained face and saw the confusion of his presence take you off guard and snap whatever control you had over yourself. 

Your face crumpled as a sob broke from your chest, and you turned away from him and curled yourself around the light pole a little tighter. 

Jungkook felt such a rush of guilt and panic at the sight of you so broken that he ignored the dull ache in his knees as he instinctively fell down in the grass next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you from the cold metal pole, trying to position comfortably in his chest. 

Jungkook shifted as he uncurled his legs from beneath his body and stretched them out next to yours in front of him, trying to touch as much of his body to you in comfort. You didn't resist, but the jolting motions did seem to make you more upset for a short moment. Jungkook realized he forgot to ask for permission to touch you before he acted. 

He knew Tae preferred physical comfort to calm down, but sometimes it could act more as a trigger when unwelcomed. He loosened his grip hesitantly, and you wrapped your arms around his middle, hugging him closer to you in response. 

Physical contact is. He thought to himself as he began stroking one hand up and down your back and rocking you both side to side slightly as if he was trying to calm a baby from a tantrum. 

Which he basically was doing, you thought bitterly to yourself as you accepted the comfort.

You were too far gone to calm yourself down. You had ridden the river of upsetting thoughts that triggered your attack all the way down, and now you risked floating out to sea and losing yourself forever. Not actually forever, just until you would cry yourself unconscious and wake up to start anew. But you supposed accepting comfort was better than sleeping outside in a neighborhood you didn't know. 

Jungkook whispered to you, not the sweet nothings people typically say when they see people break down like 'it's going to be okay,' or most annoyingly 'breath.' No Jungkook simply told you, 'you're safe,' 'take your time,' 'you're stronger than you give yourself credit for' and in your case most importantly, 'exhale.' 

When people see you having a panic attack and hear the loud gasp you make as you fight to breathe, they instinctively tell you to breathe as a way to calm down. But it's your failure to let the air out that keeps your body over oxidized, making it harder for you to feel in control of yourself. 

Slowly, you regained control of your body, and your desperate gasps for air morphed into shallow panting. Your shallow breathing morphed into soft whimpers and sniffled. Jungkook held you as your continuous knit itself together, and you faced the pain your mind was so desperate to escape.

He rubbed you back as you let out soft sobs as you reopened wounds that had healed into jagged scars. You cried for Dawon and her undeserved death. For Hoseok and the guilt you knew, he carried every day. You cried for Kim Martin, who died at the hands of the killer that stole his son. You cried for yourself, over the fear of the future as you saw it grow intimately tangled with a notorious gang.

You don't know how long Jungkook waited as you reeled yourself back together. He waited long after you finished crying, knowing just because you had control of yourself physically didn't mean you were mentally ready to face the world, so he wrapped you in his warmth and hummed to himself as he rocked you both slowly. 

You loosened and tightened your grip on his shirt and curled and uncurled your toes as you tried to become more aware of your body. You were basically sprawled out on the grass with your upper body twisted and pulled into Jungkook's middle. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but you weren't willing to risk losing his warmth to move. 

You licked your lips, and the jarring taste of your salty tears pulled you from your self pitying thoughts, deciding to work your way up the list you once again started to count. 

One thing you taste, salt. 

Two things you smell: you inhaled deeply and took in the smell of laundry detergent that clung to Jungkkook's shirt. "Detergent," you mumbled into his shirt, and the sound of a coherent word leaving you made Jungkook's humming stop as he looked down at you, nuzzling your face deeper into his chest. He held in his chuckle as you stiffed the air again, and confidently said, "and grass."

You finally pulled yourself away from him only slightly to turn your face away from him, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

"I can hear frogs, cars nearby, and.. your heart," you listed as you looked up at him from under you thick lashes still clumped with tears, "it's louder than mine," you observed as you listened to the hammering in his chest. 

He was from a different kind of nerves. 

He recognized the countdown and realized you were working to ground yourself, "What can you feel?" he prompted eager to get you to move on from his pounding heart. 

"Your t-shirt, it's soft, the grass poking at me through my jeans, my bra digging into me" you wrinkled your nose as you became aware of the discomfort. 

"And?" Jungkook prompted. A smile curled your lips as you looked up at him mischievously, "You're abs," you giggled as you sat up, finally pulling away from him. Jungkook felt the heat crawl up his neck as he turned away, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. 

"And what do you see?" he asked gently, looking everywhere but you. 

You smiled at his bashfulness as you look around, "I see the street sign, the green grass," you pause as you squint, "I think that's either a rock or some dog poop over there," Jungkook let out a startled laugh. You smiled to yourself proudly as you continued. 

"Our shadows from the street light, and,” you pause realizing how close the two of you are, "the little mole underneath your lip."

"Good," he whispered, and you watched in fascination how his lips formed the words, "Are you ready to get up now, or do you need a few minutes?" he asked. It was the way his mouth twisted into a smile at the end of the sentence that made you realize you were still staring at his lips. You blinked before looking up at his eyes, which was alight with a teasing glint. 

"I can stand," you answered, flustered as you pulled your body away from him. Maneuvering your feet beneath you to get up. Jungkook offered you a hand once he was up helping pull you to your feet, before bending down and grabbing your purse for you. Your feet still tingled in that pins and needles feeling. You wiggled your hands to wake up your fingers as well, but other than that, you felt like you recovered from the physical toll of the panic attack quite well.

"C'mon my place is at the end of this road, let me grab a car and drive you home," he offered. 

You walked with him obediently, your hands brushing past each other twice before Jungkook's hand finally snatched yours mid-swing; you looked down and watched as your fingers intertwined with his effortlessly. You looked to him to see a change in his expression, but he looked straight ahead as he walked, acting as if nothing happened. 

You smiled at yourself, thankful for the affection. You always did get a little clingy after panic attacks, relying heavily on skinship and the feeling of someone taking care of you as a way to feel calm. You were surprised how easy it was for you to let Jungkook fall into that roll despite barely knowing him. But you suppose in the handful of interactions the two of you shared, he's always prioritized your comfort and safety. 

"This is your house?" you asked as you took in the massive white art deco house behind the gate you stopped in front of. The gate buzzed and rolled open for the two of you of its own accord and rolled open for the two of you. 

Jungkook smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, kinda," he said with a shrug. 

You raised a brow, "kinda?"

"It's complicated, c'mon let's get you home," he said with a tug reminding you that the two of you were still holding hands. You flushed but followed obediently as you made your way to the garage. 

You squinted as your eyes were met with a flood of fluorescent light upon opening the door. A row of vehicles lined its way down the length of the garage, varying from sports car, to jeep, to a large black truck at the end of the row. A line of 4 motorcycles along the furthest wall. 

"J-Hope sells Namjoon a car any chance he gets," Jungkook chuckled as he took in your awed expression. 

"J-Hope?" you questions, and Jungkook's smile faltered.

"That's what we call Hoseok," he clarified. 

You nodded in understanding, "Like how Taehyung goes by V?" you asked, and he nodded. 

"Hoseok, does he sell drugs like V does?" you asked curious of what all Hoseok's gang involvement entailed.

Jungkook opened his mouth to answer but was cut off as the adjacent door slammed up from what looked to be inside the house, revealing a man in a black t-shirt with a mop of platinum blond hair. 

"There you are," he practically growled as he stormed in the room.

The man was dwarfed by Jungkook a good bit, but somehow Jungkook seemed to cower and appear smaller as the man approached, dropping your hand as if he were caught doing something he shouldn't. 

You looked at him curiously and wondered if he was. 

"Yoongi hyung," he greeted as he tried to force a smile, "I was just about to-" 

"Save it," he snapped, "I have half the army out looking for you, ya know," he turned his fury to you much to your surprise as he added "both of you." 

Your mouth fell open, shocked by the confusion apparent on your face as he continued, "Do I need to babysit both of you, because believe it or not, she's taking up a lot of my time. I really can't handle you getting flakey on me Jungkook, we need to know that you're safe," 

Jungkook looked down as he lectured, murmuring a small apology. 

"And you" Yoongi turned to you, "That goes for you too, the Black Tips are still on your tail, I can't do much for you if you go running off,"

"Hyung," Jungkook hissed. "Not now, please." 

Yoongi blinked at his younger in surprise, turning to you and making a point to really look at you, and take you in. Your red-rimmed eyes and splotchy face, the way you seemed to lean into Jungkook. He recognized that far off look in your eyes like you had to concentrate on being present in the moment, and Yoongi remembered the warning in Hoseok's earlier message when he told him you had run out.

"Yeah, okay, get her home and come straight back when you're done, we still need to talk," he said dismissively. None of your questions were answered, but you didn't resist as Jungkook put a hand on your back and guided you towards a nearby car. 

"Good night, princess," Yoongi called over his shoulder before closing the door behind him. Unlike with Jimin, you felt like you were being mocked when Yoongi called you that.

"Who was that, your brother, and why did he say he needs to babysit me?" you questioned as you both settled into the fine black vehicle the windows were so deeply tinted on the outside you wondered if it was safe to drive at night, but upon getting in the car, you noted that you could see through the windows clearly. 

Jungkook waited until after he put the key in the ignition and backed out into the driveway before he started talking."That's Yoongi hyung or Suga, he's head of surveillance for BTS. He was the one who sent out a message to go escort you home when J– Hobi Hyung told him you were upset and left his apartment so late. I was on my way in that direction when I ran across you on our street," he said, breaking at a stop sign and turning on the blinker.

You looked out the window as you took in everything he's told you, noting that you were stopped again by the light pole you had a panic attack under. Suga was one of the original members in Hoseok's story. You thought to yourself as you connected the dots. Your head still felt a little foggy as you recovered from the literal mental breakdown. The sudden change of lighting earlier had started to make your head throb. You were ready for bed.

"Hobi sent people to look for me?" was all you could manage, not entirely understanding the emotions stirring in your chest. 

"Well yeah, I mean, I was supposed to escort you home after work, and you kind changed plans, so we had to roll with them. I figured Hoseok would have taken you home after everything, so I didn't wait around. And then when Suga did send out the message I didn't notify them that I found you it was dumb on my part," he clarified. 

You leaned onto the console between the two of you, propping your cheek upon your hand in a way that squished your lips into a slight pout. Jungkook tried not to stiffen as you got more in his space. Peeking down at you through his peripherals he saw your brow furrow as you processed everything. 

"Why do you care?" you finally settled on asking as you still struggled to pinpoint why so many people would be worried about your safety.

Hoseok, you understood, to a certain extent, you even understood why he called in the favor. He knew your patterns and signs, you were probably shouting you were about to have an attack with your body language as you walked out the door. He knew he could never comfort you, not when he was the trigger. What you didn't understand was why BTS would listen.

"Because you're still not safe, and BTS took responsibility for your safety when I did," Jungkook said, simply turning to look at you as he stopped at a red light. 

If you were in the right state of mind, such a comment would have triggered an immediate fight. You had been on your own for far too many years to suddenly need a whole gaggle of men to tend to you as if you were some helpless girl. You were a grown-ass woman. But you weren't yourself as you searched for a response in the fog of your mind. 

"You're not responsible for anything about me?" you said softly as you shifted to rest your hand on your chin. 

"Y/n what all did Hoseok hyung tell you?" Jungkook asked, confused, you weren't rejecting his protection, you just seemed oblivious. He assumed the cat was out of the back as soon as you learned what BTS was, who they were concerning you. 

"Just how he joined BTS as how he ya know," you stuck your pointer finger and thumb in the air making soft 'pew pew' sounds. You couldn't bring yourself to talk seriously about the subject. Too much of this night had been severe for your liking. 

"Y/n, you saved my life last week," Jungkook said, trying to look in your eyes and convey all his gratitude. You shifted under his stare.

"I wouldn't call it that," you murmured, turning away, "The lights green," you added flatly trying to turn his attention from you. He ignored you and placed a warm hand over yours. 

"I would, and because of that, I and all of BTS owe you a life debt. We want to protect you as best as we can, especially since you're not totally safe from the guys you saved me from," he emphasized. 

You looked up at him owlishly as you thought over everything he said. But whatever you were going to say died on your lips as a car honked its horn behind you. You both jumped startled, and the intensity of the moment evaporated slightly. 

After a few moments of silence, you decided he didn't require a response. You can't imagine you would give a correct one anyways. You looked down at your hand, his larger one still resting atop your own and turned your wrist quickly and intertwining your fingers.

You rode in silence the rest of the way home, and you were fighting your eyelids as you pulled up to your complex. 

Jungkook wondered if you always fell asleep in the car even with dangerous men. He wondered if that's why he never sees you take the bus at night.

"You really should consider living somewhere safer," Jungkook muttered under his breath as he shut off the engine.

You bit your tongue holding in several comments and gave a noncommittal 'mmm' as you unbuckled and stepped out the car to see he planned to walk you to your door again. 

You grew embarrassed as you climbed the stairs and scrambled to think of parting words dwelling on everything Jungkook had done for you that night, "Thank you," you finally forced yourself to say. Jungkook looked down at you as you came to a halt in front of your door. "For earlier, with the crying and the counting," you offered awkwardly your eyes looking everywhere but his as you breached the sensitive topic. 

"Oh, it wasn't a problem, really. I'm glad I could help" he laughed nervously, and you smiled, reaching for his hand before he could bring it to the back of his head, a nervous habit you were quickly picking up on him having. 

"I'm serious Jungkook, a lot of people freak out and make the situation much worse for me, and I get it seeing someone crying like that it's never an easy thing to react to, but you did—" you hesitated as you searched for the right words, "You were good, comforting." 

You didn't give yourself time to question it as you stood on your tiptoes, deciding to convey your gratitude in a way that your stuttering mouth wouldn't botch, and grazed a small peck aiming for his cheek. Unfortunately, the height difference and your own lack of balance had you landing more on his jawline. Jungkook gasped only slightly at the feeling of your soft lips on his jaw, the heat of your body radiating off of you in your nearness. You smiled at him again as you turned towards the door to unlock it. 

"Haha yeah, happy to hear that," he responded, his voice crawling in pitch as he ordered his heart to beat, and you gave him another warm smile as you pushed open your door. 

"Good night, Jungkook."

"Good night, Ella." 

Jungkook's face split into a grin as you closed the door, a hand reaching for his jaw and pressing against where you kissed him as if it would simulate the feeling. His steps seemed to bounce as he made his way down the concrete stairs and back to his car.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading please tell me what you think! Your comments make me eager to write more :)

Pt.5 ->

[aerynwrites]

A Twist of Fate

Javier Peña x Reader Soulmate AU!

Author’s Note: Okay y’all, not sure how i feel about this one lol, I’m kinda on the fence about it? But I kinda like it? Idk, you guys let me know what you think! ALSO! I highly recommend listening to - Oh, What a World by Kacey Musgraves in the last half of the fic, bc it was kinda the inspiration behind this idea.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Angst, cursing, blood, minor injury, fluff.

/////

Living in a world where soulmates are determined from the day you turn fifteen sounds like something out of a science fiction book. Yet, here you were, living it every goddamn day. Most people love it, they love the idea that there is someone out there for them. Someone that is meant for them and only them until the day they leave this earth.

Not you.

You woke up on the morning of your fifteenth birthday, a Friday if you remember correctly, and you were beyond excited to see the words appear on your wrist. The words that your soulmate would say to you the moment you met. However, as you bolted upright in bed and pulled your sleeve up your arm, you felt your heart drop when there were no words on your wrist at all. You had run, panic written all over your face, to your mother who just smiled and said that sometimes it takes a few hours to appear. Afterall, hers didn’t show up until the afternoon of her special day. Your excitement came rushing back as you continued to get ready for school, but as the day came to a close…the words were still no where to be found.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, and the nights after when words still failed to appear on your wrist. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and you finally gave up on the idea of ever seeing the fateful words on your wrist. Your friends tried to console you, your parents took you to multiple specialists, but no one could tell you why the words never appeared.

Why you didn’t have a soulmate.

Eventually you grew out of the childish hope of having a soulmate, you could find happiness elsewhere, you were sure. You threw yourself into your schoolwork, excelled in it and eventually, after college, you landed a job in the DEA. You worked there for several years, quickly becoming a senior agent and creating a name for yourself. A name that your superiors caught onto and the reason you were transferred to Colombia to help the other DEA agents take down Escobar.

That’s how you ended up here, sitting across from Steve Murphy while Javier Peña was discussing the reports of the latest take down to the ambassador. Your eyes kept glancing up at the clock, counting down the seconds until you could go home. You returned your eyes back to your paperwork and bounced your leg impatiently before casting another look at the clock a few feet away.

“What has you so worked up?” Steve huffs, taking his eyes from his desk to look at you instead.

You just shrug, not really wanting to talk about it, “Nothing. Just ready to go home is all,” you say lamely, tapping your pen against the desk absentmindedly.

Steve rolls his eyes before a shit eating grin works his way onto his face and he leans back in his chair, “Oh…” he sighs, “I bet I know what it is.”

You sit up straighter and cross your arms, “I highly doubt that Steve,” you retort, trying to get him to back off.

He just chuckles, “Oh yeah I do. I bet you and Michael have some plans, am I right?” he asks smugly.

At the mention of the man’s name, your heart drops into your stomach and a frown tugs at the corner of your lips. He was the last thing you wanted to talk about.

“No Steve, we don’t have plans,” you bite, looking away from him.

At that very moment the one man you really didn’t want to have this conversation with came waltzing back through the door, glancing between you and Steve, “Who doesn’t have plans?” Javier asks, innocently.

You wave your hand in the air, trying to dismiss the conversation, “It’s nothing Javi, Steve is just-“

“just trying to figure out why miss (y/n) over here is so anxious to leave the office,” he says teasingly, “I think it’s because she has plans with Michael – if you catch my meaning,” he says suggestively, elbowing Javier.

You see Javier clench his jaw at Steve’s words, an action that doesn’t surprise you since he never seemed to like the guy you were dating anyways, but you don’t dwell on it too long before you’re leaning across your desk and smacking Steve’s hands with a nearby folder.

“I don’t have any plans with Michael!” you say defiantly, “Now will you just fucking drop. It.” You spit out the words, irritated that your friend won’t just leave you alone.

Steve just laughs, “Oh come on (y/n), I’m just having a little fun! You’ve been together for a while, now right? I’m surprised he hasn’t dropped the question yet. Guy’s crazy about you from what I hear from the other agents,” he says casually.

You feel tears sting the back of your eyes at the mention of something that could never be, and you have to choke out a response, “Yeah, well-“ you cough, trying to hide the tears in your voice, “he dumped me last night. So, I doubt he’ll be asking ‘the question’ anytime soon,” you say bitterly, slumping back into your seat.

Javier and Steve’s eyes go wide at the news and surprisingly Javier was the one to speak up first, “he dumped you? Just like that?” he asks, bewilderment and, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say you heard a slight tinge of hope in his voice.

You don’t look at either of them, afraid that if you do, you’d burst into tears right that moment, “Yeah…” you whisper, “just like that.”

“What in the hell-“ Steve begins, but you shake your head.

“I really don’t want to talk about it guys, can we just drop it? Please?” you beg.

Steve shakes his head, apparently not hearing your plea, “That asshole…I swear to god if I see his ass I will-“

“Steve please!” you call, “He had every reason to do it.”

Javier jumps in at this point, “What possible reason could he have for just dumping you out of nowhere?”

You shake you head, eyes glancing up to the clock and realizing it was time to go, you quickly stood from your chair, desperate to avoid telling them the one thing you hated about yourself, “I’ve got to go guys” you whisper, trying to gather your things as they continue to badger you with questions within the small space of your shared office.

“did he cheat on you?” “did he get another job?”

“I just can’t believe-“

Just as you retrieved your gun from your desk drawer you slammed it shut, silencing both men as you blurted out the only thing running through your mind the entire day, “He left me because he found his soulmate! Okay?” you cry, barley holding back the tears threating to spill, “He left me for her, even thought he has no goddamn idea who she is. There! Are you happy now?” You bark out the words before turning on your heel and leaving the office, ignoring the calls of apology from your partners.

------

When you finally got back to your apartment, you dumped your stuff by the door and went immediately to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of the strongest alcohol you had. Once you poured the dark amber liquid into the glass your eyes fell to the bottle and realized that it was a gift that Michael had given you for your anniversary. As you stared at the bottle, you felt all the emotions and tears you had been holding back all day finally spill over. It felt like your heart was being torn into a million pieces – not really over Michael leaving you – but at the thought that you would probably be truly and utterly alone for the rest of your life.

You hated this. You hated the stupid tattoos on everyone’s wrists. You hated Michael. You hated his soulmate. You hated the world. At the last thought a harsh sob pulled itself from your throat just as you let out an anguished cry and threw the glass in your hand across the room, watching as it hit the opposite wall with a satisfying crash, the untouched liquid spraying across the wall and floor.

In your emotional and irrational state, the small act gave you some sense of control – a sense  of satisfaction. So, without even thinking, you took the bottle in your hand next and threw it against the ground, watching as it hit the ground with a loud shatter before going silent once more. And as quickly as the satisfaction came, it seemed to leave all at once, and your tears returned full force as you leaned against the fridge and slid to the ground. You were so caught up in you thoughts that you didn’t even hear the rapid knocking on your door or the sound of it opening and footsteps rapidly approaching you until a familiar figure hovered in front of you.

“(y/n)? Jesus Christ – “ Javier’s voice spoke as he looked around you, “What the hell happened?” he asked.

You didn’t respond, you just looked blankly at the man in front of you as he grabbed your hands in his gently, moving to help you up, but he paused when his hands met yours, “Shit – you’re bleeding,” he said, tone serious yet concerned.

His words finally got your attention and you looked down to where his hands cradled yours and sure enough, the palms of your hands had a few cuts on them. Most likely from the glass scattered around you.

Javier let out a small sigh as he took in your shattered state, and he felt his heart constrict at the thought of what you must be going through. He turned away from you momentarily to retrieve the first aid kit he knew you kept under the sink. Once he had that, he tucked it under his arm before picking you up bridal style and walking you into your living room, sitting you down on the couch and taking your hands in his own once more. He started to tend to your wounds in silence, meticulously disinfecting them and wrapping a bandage around them. Neither of you said anything for a while, until he finally broke the silence.

“You’ll find them eventually you know,” he said quietly, pushing past the lump in his throat as he did.

You looked at him, a confused look on your face, “What?”

Javier sighed, “Your soulmate – you’ll find them eventually,” even if I don’t want you too.

He had to bite his tongue before the last words slipped out. He had been harboring feelings for you since the moment you walked into the embassy. He had even planned to ask you out to dinner a few weeks after you had arrived, but when you came in gushing about Michael – it crushed any hope he had of being with you. Honestly, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he felt a little spark of hope shoot through him when you told him you and Michael had broken up. But now, as he looks at the toll it has taken on you, all he felt was guilt. So, when you let out a humorless laugh, it was his turn to be confused.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

You shook your head, another tear slipping down your cheek, and he had to restrain himself from wiping it away as you spoke, “I don’t have a soulmate Javi,” you whimpered.

He felt his eyes widen at your admission, “you what?” he asks incredulously.

This time you hold your arms out to him, palms up to show him your bare wrists. Javier looked at them in a mixture disbelief and utter elation, thumbs rubbing your wrists lightly and you sigh a little at the contact. Deep down, you had always harbored feeling for your partner, it felt like an instant connection the moment you met, but the minute you found out about his habits, you dismissed the feelings, refusing to sign up for the hurt that was sure to come from a relationship with Javier. You realized after a moment in thought that you had never said anything after Javi, his thumbs still rubbing soothingly over your wrists, waiting patiently for you to respond.

You took in a shaky breath, “The words never appeared when I turned fifteen…or the years after,” you said lowly, “We went to so many specialist, talked to different people, scoured the library and newspapers for something – anything that would explain what was happening but-“ your voice cracked, and you shrugged your shoulders, “nothing. We couldn’t even find another case of this happening to someone,” a new wave of tears poured from your eyes as sobs wracked your body, “I’m going to be alone forever Javi-“ you cry, leaning forward as he pulls you into a tight embrace, “and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it,” you finally whisper.

Javi didn’t say anything at first, weighing his words as he held your shaking form in his arms. You both stayed like that until your sobs turned into small hiccups instead, and Javi finally decided to speak up.

“That’s not true,” he said quietly, hands rubbing up and down your back slowly.

You pulled away from him slightly, wiping at your nose as you sniffled, “What?”

Javier turned his gaze to the floor, uneasiness filling his mind as he struggled to utter the words he had been wanting to tell you for years now, “You don’t have to be alone – you’re not alone (y/n).”

You looked at him confused, unsure of what to say, so Javi took this as his cue to continue. He quickly pulled up the sleeve of his jacket and took his watch off, the one you always assumed covered his soulmate tattoo, only to reveal a blank expanse of skin – exactly like yours. You let out a small gasp and your eyes immediately snap to meet his own.

“You don’t – there’s no-“ your mind is running a million miles a minute at the realization that you are, in fact, not alone in the world.

Javier just sends you a small smile, “I never got my words either,” he admits, “So I just gave up all together, used it as an excuse to throw myself into my work and sleep around. But that was only until-“ he stopped in his tracks, weary of if he should continue down this path, and possibly ruin the partnership and friendship you both had.

You looked at the man crouched in front of you expectantly, hoping, praying he would say the words you had been thinking all these years. Even when you were with Michael.

His adam’s apple bobbed as he struggled to swallow and finally spoke, “Until I met you,” he said softly.

As soon as the words left his mouth, you slid from the couch to kneel in front of him and brought your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him into a hesitant but passionate kiss. Javier was uncertain at first, wary that you were just upset – emotional from the breakup. But as soon as your lips met, as cliché as it sounded, it was like sparks flew. A fire ignited within Javier, something he had never felt with anyone he had been with before. And he eagerly retuned the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you up, so you were straddling him. Unfortunately, it felt as soon as you had kissed him you were pulling away, panting slightly and eyes wide as you looked down at him.

“Woah,” you both said in unison.

You let out a huff of laughter and leaned your forehead against Javier’s taking in a deep breath, relishing in the feeling if his arms around you. Your breaths mingled together as you continued to sit together, minds racing, trying to understand what you were feeling. As contradictory as it sounded, the thought that keeps crossing your mind is that you and Javi were meant for each other.

In some weird twist of fate, by neither of you having a soulmate – maybe you were soulmates. You closed your eyes as tears of relief and happiness gathered in your eyes and you finally spoke up, “I never thought that I would-“ your voice catches in your throat and Javi pulls away from you slightly, a hand cupping your cheek gently, thumb brushing away a tray tear.

“I didn’t either,” he admits quietly, a small smile adorning his face, “and then there was you.”

You let out a quiet laugh and kiss him quickly before nuzzling your face into his neck, “and then there was you,” you repeat, a contented sigh escaping your lips as you and Javi stayed in each other’s arms.

////

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