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cherrykindness · 4 years ago

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let's make babies |

pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader

summary: you and harry are doing a live on instagram, you've drunk a lot of wine and now the world knows that the future Mrs. Styles is ready to make babies.

warnings: mostly cute, but the title tells you what you need to know 🤪

"What is your favorite song from the Fine Line album?" Y/N read aloud, twirling in her right hand the second glass of wine of the evening, the one already halfway through. "Adore You and Watermelon Sugar, of course."

Harry giggled, rolling his eyes upon hearing his fiancée's statement.

"Y/N will always choose Adore You because it was obviously written for her." He accused. "She wouldn't give that answer under different circumstances."

The comments climbed up the screen continuously, most fans gushing about how cute Harry Styles and YN/LN could be while the other part was concerned with wringing even more information out of the slightly inebriated couple who had decided to do a surprise live one early Sunday morning.

As expected after being away for some time to begin filming Don't Worry, Darling in Southern California, Harry enjoyed a lazy weekend in the house he shared with his fiancée and her pets. The days were filled with late naps and relentless Netflix marathons, sublime and ethereal evenings, marked mostly by unexpected declarations and rounds of sex that used to last until the beams of light were shyly coming through the linen curtains. They were not a monotonous couple, so this order could easily be changed.

"Watermelon Sugar is nothing more than about my love for watermelons, don't get too creative." Harry replied to a fan while sporting a corner smile, the message standing out among the rest for its dozens of emojis and large print, questioning the singer about erotic content behind the lyrics of his latest hit. "I really don't know what you guys are talking about."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head before leaning it against her fiancé's chest, propped up on the soft white pillows that were spread practically all over the bed. The air conditioner was on at a minimal temperature and a light rain whipped on the panes of glass camouflaged by the cream-colored curtain, that being the projection of Y/N's favorite nights.

"You can tell them, I'm not shy." She joked, nudging her fiancé's waist.

"You know what it was written about and who it was written for." Harry replied, raising one of his eyebrows. "That's what matters."

It went without saying that much of Harry's newest album, as well as some of his earlier work, had been done in exclusive dedication to his future wife. Y/N had been the muse for a vast repertoire of romantic songs, and even though the singer preferred to keep the story behind his more explicit compositions a "secret", the relationship the two had shared for more than three years was already solid and known enough for the media and fans to distinguish hidden messages in small details.

"It's a song about what usually comes before the act of making babies." Y/N laughed as he pointed at the display. "Honestly, you guys are impossible."

"No, we make babies every day." Harry joked, making a funny motion with his eyebrows. "I would spend my entire career writing just about that."

"Harry!" The actress exclaimed incredulously, slapping her fiancé weakly on the chest. "Children might be watching this."

"You don't want to have babies with me?" He asked falsely offended, accepting the cup that Y/N offered him. "Because I want some babies with you."

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she watched the internet freak out at the dialogue that had suddenly emerged. Since the beginning of the quarantine, it was kind of inevitable that the couple of artists would not become the darlings of all social media; they were fervently active with photos, videos, and lives that depicted step by step daily life in isolation, gaining more and more followers and making the media more and more fascinated by the relationship they both shared.

The wedding was scheduled for the summer of next year and it was perhaps the most anticipated event in the tabloids. Bets about what the model of Y/N's dress would be and lists presuming who would be selected for the short list of guests stood out among countless news stories about the famous people influencing pop culture today.

The possible arrival of a Styles baby was an inevitable topic in interviews. Harry and Niall were the only members of the ex-boyband that had not become fathers yet, and because they had maintained a solid relationship and were seen as one of the most enviable couples during the last four years, Y/N and Harry had gotten used to all this openly asked questions. They didn't mind, they even had fun with the montages and all the anxiety that dominated the whole internet, often mentioning the fandoms' efforts to represent them as such "cool" parents in perfectly edited pictures.

"No, guys, I'm not pregnant." Y/N amusingly clarified the doubt of dozens of new comments. "Please don't believe so many controversial news stories that appear out there. I was on twitter last week and saw several people theorizing about a possible pregnancy, most of the arguments based on a website that used photos from the set of How to Get Away with Murder in the season where I was actually playing a pregnant woman as Laurel." She laughed. "It's so funny! I know you guys love to guess these things, but we won't hide something so special when it actually happen, I promise."

"Especially because Y/N can hide absolutely nothing from anyone." Harry accused, leaving his drink on the corner table before settling into a comfortable position for the two of them. "Anyone who's a Marvel fan knows that. That's one of her most characteristic quirks."

"They gave me a fake script for the last two movies." Y/N agreed, shaking his head. "For me and Tom."

"We agreed to keep the engagement a secret for a while. The plan was to travel to Holmes Chapel to break the news to my family in person, but guess who got a call at ten o'clock at night from an angry Anne because she learned of her son's engagement from an interview Y/N gave the next day?"

Y/N gave a guilty smile, winking gracefully at the camera. "It was all James' fault! I'm sure he already suspected something, those questions were very suspicious."

"Of course the questions were suspicious, babe. You literally said you had a secret that involved both of us but that you couldn't tell because it was important that our families knew first."

"I thought he would think about a pregnancy or something!" The actress defended herself, feeling very convincing in her intonation bordering on obviousness. "That's a mania I can't get rid of, it's in my genes."

"Did you all hear that? Further proof that you guys don't have to worry about guessing when Y/N's pregnancy will be, I'm sure our baby will make sure to tell you everything while still in the womb, mom's genes will make sure of that."

"You are so funny, Harry Styles." Y/N sarcastically stated, holding back a giggle as countless messages with laughing emojis were frantically up. "Yeah, I know I talk a lot and all, but you have annoying quirks too."

It was obvious that live would be news the next day. Although they were completely open about matters concerning their relationship, nothing seemed better than receiving so much exclusive information from a Harry and S/N drunk on expensive wine.

"You wake up in a bad mood and you're dangerously sexy, that should be illegal."

Harry laughed, holding his fiancée's waist a little tighter as he felt her tumble a little further to the side, getting closer and closer to the edge of the bed. Y/N was dangerously weak for drinks, and the singer knew that the actress' body was already near its limit.

"You're the only sexy person here, love." He declared with a corner smile, evidently finding the whole situation funny. "Do you want to go to sleep now?"

"No." Y/N shook her head. "Can we watch some movie? Can we watch Sweet Home?"

"Of course, love." He murmured, giving the woman a quick kiss on the forehead.

Even though Harry knew that his fiancée was unlikely to make it past the five-minute mark of the episode, he made sure to restart the korean series at exactly the scene where she had stopped, the first chapter still halfway through after Y/N realized that it would be impossible to watch such a macabre work without a drop of alcohol in her blood.

She had been so excited by the taste of Argentinian wine and the idea of updating her fans after a few weeks away, that she had forgotten the main purpose of the live. Harry and Y/N had been apart for a few days due to the new movie the Brit was shooting in North America, all happening in an unrestrictedly careful manner due to the restrictions caused by the pandemic.

He was slowly migrating towards acting and the future Mrs. Styles couldn't be prouder. Y/N had felt on cloud nine when Harry had given her the news of his upcoming job, but her only pronouncement on the subject had been a succinct post on instagram. Just a photo of the couple on a trip to Germany with a simple heart emoji didn't seem enough for the actress' exhibitionist soul, and coming to that conclusion was the main reason she decided to invite him, already relatively changed, for a live appearance. Y/N wanted to go on and on about how much she loved that man and work on that whole honeyed speech that would bring her (once again) the title of "cutest bride of all time," but of course Harry had to come home from his trip with his favorite red wine and poison her with those sweet caresses that took her out of orbit, turning the degree of alcohol content into the least of her problems.

"You're going to kiss Florence." Y/N exclaimed suddenly, as if only now realizing that her fiancé would share the screen with Florence Pugh, one of her closest friends in that industry. "Kiss on the mouth."

The MacBook was still open and hundreds of new comments were going up every second, but Harry didn't bother one bit to warn her about the possibility of her becoming a meme the next day. He was having too much fun with the situation to worry.

"Are you jealous?"

"Yes." She stated with a pout. "I am jealous, I just don't know if I'm more jealous of her or of you."

"But you kiss me every day, babe." Harry laughed. "And you've been kissing other people's men for almost ten years." He joked.

"But I only think about you, I already told you that."

Harry shook his head negatively at the camera, knowing he was sharing with the fans the funniest side of his fiancée.

"I know that, honey." He assured, lightly stroking the actress' back. "I think we'd better turn off the TV and go to sleep now, I'm sure you'll have a terrible headache tomorrow."

The brit planned to bid his audience goodbye and put an end to that recording, but Y/N was drunk and her sense of right and wrong had already gone to space. Harry should have been quicker, however, because his fiancée's speech would be cause for new tags and the only subject for the interviewers for at least the next few months.

"I don't want to sleep, how about we make babies?"

That's what Watermelon Sugar was all about, after all.

#harry styles imagine #imagine1d #imagine harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #fluffy imagine #harry fluff #actress reader

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sugako · 3 years ago

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after dinner special

bokuto x f!reader x hinata sum: after seeing the way his teammate looks at you, bokuto comes up with a plan to help all parties cw: 18+ only minors dni i am begging you, established relationship (bokuto x reader), slight manipulation (?? reader/bo make a secret plan to seduce hinata and he wants to so not really but idk what else to tag it as), oral (f!receiving), double pussyjob, nipple play, orgasm denial, D/s, spit roast, unprotected, hinabo if you squint extra hard wc: 4.2k a/n: finally back from the dead with this wayyy overdue fic ive been thinking about/writing for months, no edits or beta bc i'm too impatient and haven't posted in so long

Above all else, Bokuto was incredibly perceptive to other’s emotions. Among other aspects, that quality had really drawn you to him even if it wasn’t as extraordinarily overt as his confidence and enthusiasm. His perceptiveness didn’t end with you, of course, he was well-connected with his teammates, which meant when he saw the way Hinata’s eyes just barely glazed over when he met you he knew there was something more happening in his head. He watched the burning grow in Hinata after he had witnessed the two of you had, quite obviously, snuck off to another room during a get-together at Meian’s, spit still drying at the corner of your dry, puffy lips a week prior.

Even he wasn’t sure what exactly his plan was as he started up in the locker room a couple weeks later, oversharing every little detail he could recall about your body, namely when it was under him. Ignoring Atsumu and Kiyoomi’s groans for him to stop while Shugo and Oliver snickered to themselves reminiscing about their own escapades from a handful of years ago, he focused on Hinata’s reaction.

Shōyō remained uncharacteristically quiet as he rambled on about how cute your soft tits were, only speaking to quietly excuse himself to the bathroom. He was careful, but not careful enough to hide the tent in his shorts.

Not one to keep a secret, the words came tumbling from his mouth when he burst into your shared apartment.

“I think Hinata likes you!” He managed, tearing off his shoes to stumble into the hallway to wrap you in a tight hug like he did nearly every day.

“I-...what?” You choke, wrapping a tentative arm back around him and peeling away to look at him in the eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Not like… I don’t know, I think he wants to fuck you.” The smile on his face doesn’t waver, only confusing you.

“I’m not sure how to take this.” You deadpan, brows just short of knitting together. “Why…?”

“Well if you would like that I certainly wouldn’t mind.” His teeth graze over your skin as he pecks messy kisses all over your cheeks and neck.

“You wouldn’t mind?” You blankly repeat back, holding his back by his muscled shoulders to make him look you in the eyes. “Because not minding something and wanting something are very different and I just want to make sure whatever we’re about to talk about we’re just being really clear.”

Bokuto inhaled a massive breath, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he collected exactly what he wanted to say to you. Before he could, the smell coming from the kitchen distracted his senses, leaving him to weakly exhale and blink his eyes open. “Talk over dinner?”

The long talk over the dinner table was eventually fruitful. After he collected himself and stuffed his rumbling stomach, Bokuto was better able to explain what he had seen in Hinata. It made you recall every time you had seen him and you would be lying if you said you didn’t see it too. He wasn’t exactly a subtle person.

When it came down to it, you certainly weren’t opposed. Bokuto certainly seemed interested in the prospect of sharing you, especially with his favorite prodigy as he liked to class him. You recognized that Hinata was attractive and you had to admit that the concept of being squished between the two thick, bubbly men was alluring as long as he was truly interested.

Before the full invitation to come over for dinner - specially prepared by you - had even slipped from Bokuto’s mouth, Hinata was eagerly accepting. Part of you dreaded the entire ordeal, anxieties bubbling up about the lead up and the talking beforehand that you had foolishly agreed to do most of. Over dinner you stayed a little quieter than usual, trying to gauge Hinata’s expression and body language.

When he politely excuses himself to use the restroom after finishing, Bokuto grabs your hand across the table, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles.

“If you’re nervous we can stop right here.” He whispers, grinning softly.

You can’t help but smile back, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay,” you assure him, “I am a little nervous, but I really want to.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by the sound of the bathroom door closing and the soft pad of Hinata’s feet down the hallway. Clearing your throat, you give a reassuring smile to Bokuto, and stand to face where Hinata soon pops out of.

“Hinata, would you-”

“Shōyō is fine!” He interjects. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“That’s fine,” you smile, ghosting your hand down his arm and resting your palm against his elbow. “Shōyō, would you mind helping me wash up in the kitchen. I feel bad asking the guest, but Kōtarō has something for you and you’ll get to it faster if I finish this.”

Hinata can feel his heart pounding behind his rib cage so hard he worries you can hear his pulse reverberating. You look so sweet with those pleading eyes staring at him, the warm touch of your fingertips sending heat to his chest.

“Of course, I don’t mind.” He nods, letting you lead him a room away to the kitchen.

“Great, thank you, this is such a big help.” You grin while placing the dirty dishes in the sink before you and handing him a dry towel. “You can just dry and put them in the cabinet in front of you.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, eyeing down your low-cut shirt as you squeeze your arms together and lean down to grab the first bowl. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you turn the tap on a little too fast and water splashes all over the front of your thin, pale dress, making the black lacy bra underneath pop.

“Whoops!” You exclaim, smiling a little too happily, feeling how his feet shift beside you. “This tap is a little loose, I always get messy and wet trying to do anything.”

He has to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning, glad that your gaze is in the sink and not on his flushed face. He doesn’t want to feel this way about his friend’s girlfriend, but it’s so hard when you’re standing so close - did you take a step toward him? when did your hip start brushing against his? - and you look so pretty.

“So, Shōyō…” you start, handing him another dish, “Kōtarō talks about you a lot, you know.”

“Really?” His voice is pitched and strained, stopping short of choking on his own words.

“Yeah, he thinks you’re great. He was so excited when you joined the team. He, uh, he pays attention, a lot more than some people give him credit for.”

Hinata nods, carefully placing the bowl in the cupboard. “He’s great, I’ve always loved watching him play.”

“He’s fun to watch,” you agree, “You know he thinks….actually, can I just ask what your type is?” The words tumble out quickly as you try to gain confidence, a small bit of worry creeping into the back of your head.

“My type?” He repeats back, pausing in his drying motions. “I don’t know if I really have one. Just anyone I feel good with. Why?” When he turns to look at you again you’re turned to face him, a small smile lighting up your features.

“That’s a good way to look at things. I only ask because, well Kōtarō seems to think you have some kind of interest in me.” You force the words to come out casually, keeping your eyes on him. Hinata sputters and chokes on his own words, the way your hand comes down over his doing absolutely nothing to help him compose himself. “There’s no good way to say this, but he was thinking you could, uh well take what you’ve been thinking about, if you want to.”

Taking a deep swallow, he took a short deep breath to clear his mind. “And what do you think?”

Tension dissipates from your body at his question. “I think I would like you to do whatever you want. Touch me, kiss me, anything. Only if you want to.”

His fists clench and unclench again, gears turning in his head as he realizes this was planned. All those stories Bokuto told, the glint in his eyes for the past few weeks, the way you put yourself on display for him all night with that sly little smirk - it was all part of some plan. A little worried voice in the back of his head told him this was too good to be true. But you were offering yourself up to him, angled forward so your tits would pop and watching him so carefully as though he were a scared animal ready to run, and he knew it had to be true.

The timid, apprehensive look he had been sporting slowly drained from his face, replaced with a much more confident and delighted one. His hands moved from his sides to dig into your waist, lifting you up onto the counter behind you.

“Don’t tease me.” He whispers hoarsely, lips ghosting over the pulse of your throat. The loose dress Bokuto had purposefully picked out for you to wear for the evening rode up as Hinata settled his thick body between your welcoming knees.

“I’m not,” you pant, “Kōtarō really wanted this.”

A shuddered sigh comes from his chest as he rests his head against your shoulder, just barely kissing the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. You fidget restlessly, trying to pull his still body closer to no avail.

“Wanna know he wants this.” He says eventually. “I trust you, I just…”

“No, no, I get it.” You say a little too abruptly, fishing around for where your phone was tossed onto the counter. With shaky hands you hurried to click it open, immediately going to your messages, scrolling to the most recent chat with Bokuto where he depicted how much he wanted to see you fucked out on his and Hinata’s cocks in vivid detail. You push the phone into his hand. “You can scroll wherever, he mentioned it before that one’s just… yeah.”

“Oh, wow.” He breathes, glancing through a few other messages from earlier in the week. Gently, he sets the phone down beside you before pulling your hips to the edge of the counter. His lips collide with the base of your throat knocking the air right from you.

You wind your fingers up in his hair as he pressed harsh kisses straight down your front, his rough hands pushing the skirt of your dress up even higher, leaving the tops of your thighs completely exposed. He keeps journeying lower until his cheek is flush to the hem of your panties. When his nose presses up against the slowly growing damp patch leaking his shoulders heave as though to hold himself back.

“And he doesn’t want us to wait up…?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know completely. Bokuto had asked to make some kind of subtle move on Hinata in private, he figured it would be less stressful for the both of you, but he hadn’t said how far to go with him, and you weren’t really sure what he was doing in some other part of the house, and Hinata’s fingers were so hot against your skin…

“No, it’s fine.” You pant, desperation evident in your voice. He doesn’t need much more, hand moving to pull the stretchy fabric you had purposefully worn to the side, his wide tongue darting out to lap up the wetness seeping from you.

With an aching whine, you lean into his touch, massaging his head and bringing him closer to you with every burning second that passes. Not that you had expected him to be inexperienced by any means, but you hadn’t expected him to be so good. He was loud, moaning against your cunt as he buried his tongue inside of you, nose tapping against your pleading clit.

The sound of your breathy whimpers and the loud slurping squelches drowned out the steps coming down the hall or the kitchen door swinging open. Bokuto stood there for a moment with a small smile, admiring how pretty you looked like this, even if he wished it were him, but he couldn’t let the moment pass him by.

“Puppy,” he sighed. The first syllable was enough to make Hinata pop off of you and stumble back to turn around, eyes hazy and drunken of the taste of you. Ignoring the hardened look in Bokuto’s eyes, you pouted sweetly, spreading your legs a little more to let him see your soiled panties.

“Kōtar-”

“You’re being greedy, don’t you think, puppy? Going ahead without me like that.” He imitates you with a fake pout, the look never quite meeting his blazing eyes. You can feel what’s coming and make no more attempt to argue. Hinata is taking in the interaction, still halfway in his own daze. “She’s great, huh, Shōyō? Pretty little pussy and she makes the best noises, especially when she’s crying for your cock.”

Hinata swallows hard, absentmindedly palming over his pants where he’s quickly grown half-hard. “Yeah, she’s, yeah no, uh she’s really great. This is still okay?”

Both of you nod quickly, reassuring him, but you remain silent for now, trying to settle before you know what’s to come.

“Totally okay as long as you’re okay.” Bokuto drops the edge in his tone to carefully watch him for a moment, assessing.

“Completely.” He agrees with a dreamy sigh.

Nodding again, Bokuto approaches the two of you. Refusing to meet his eyes you stare just ahead at the door.

“Oh, don’t look so sad, puppy, you know you’ll get what you want in the end anyway.” He jabs as he scoops you over his shoulder and gives you a gentle pat on the back of your thighs. “Let’s at least go to the living room.”

You glance back at Hinata, mouthing a silent whoops, while Bokuto leads him around the corner. Bokuto plops into the corner of the couch, back propped up by the plush arm, and maneuvering your pliable body to sit comfortably in his lap with your back pulled up flush to his chest. You’re gently pushed forward so he can peel the dress off and unclasp your bra. He’s calm for now, at least on the outside, but you can feel his heart pounding through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t need these anymore,” he hums, latching his fingers in the sides of your underwear and motioning for you to lift your hips to let him slide them off. Hooking his elbows under your knees, he pulls your thighs to your chest, high enough so that he can palm your breasts. Quietly whining, you turn your head away so you don’t have to look directly up at Hinata - not that he’d notice your face with the way your cunt was glistening under the low, soft lights of the room. “Shh,” he directs at you before glancing back up at Hinata, “go ahead, but don’t let her cum.”

With a warm grin he gets on his knees between Bokuto’s spread legs. You almost felt too exposed, all power taken from your hands, splayed open like this. Bokuto slots his chin against your shoulder and presses the softest kiss to your cheek in stark contrast to the way his rough hands are kneading and pinching your sensitive breasts.

Hinata eagerly gets back to it, lavishing your cunt with softer licks than before, making your hips shake as they seek out more friction. While your neediness grows so too does Bokuto’s grip on you.

“So pretty,” he coos, eyes glued to where Hinata was firmly pressed against you. Pride bloomed in his chest at the sight of his teammate sloppily eating out his favorite girl so enthusiastically, appreciating you so much as he should.

It’s impossible for him to not get rock hard with the way you’re grinding down into his lap and the crude, wet sounds and groans vibrating from the back of Hinata’s throat.

“Taste so good.” Hinata grumbles, pulling back and forcing his tense hips to stop rutting into the couch cushion. He feels himself making a mess in his pants, hoping that he isn’t leaking through to your nice furniture, but he can’t quite bring himself to stop either. Both Bokuto and you watch the string - you’re not sure whether it’s his spit or your own wetness - that stays connected between your slit and his puffy, glossy lips.

“Good...good job.” Bokuto sighs. You’re not sure if he’s praising you or Hinata, but you don’t have much time to think too hard about it before he releases your legs and wedges his hands under between himself and you to pull his straining cock from his pants. Mind buzzing, still a little hazy from the feeling of Hinata’s tongue, you grab out from him, pulling on the band of his pants. Truthfully, he’s not quite sure what you’re asking for but he does know how tight his balls are and how inviting your cunt looks.

Just as Bokuto is settling his cock between your ass, Hinata’s pants are slipped off, thrown to the ground. He dips his head down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, moaning around you and pressing in close so his tip catches against your clit. At your whiny cry and keening, Bokuto lets out a low, single chuckle. “Don’t let her have your cock, not all the way. You were being so greedy earlier puppy, I don’t think you deserve it yet.”

Hinata keeps his mouth firmly planted on your chest and reaches down to perfectly slip himself between the top of your folds, acutely aware of Bokuto’s heavy head just barely bumping against the base of his own cock. They’re both so thick and heavy as they rabidly hump against you, Bokuto maneuvering your body for you back and forth across both of them. Everything is warm and wet between Hinata’s mouth on your chest and Bokuto’s lips kissing down the side of your neck.

The tease of release that’s been creeping up on you for so long draws closer and closer. Hinata’s cock is catching so exactly on your swollen clit and Bokuto’s tip keeps threatening to slip past your entrance, slick dripping past your thighs.

“Gonna, ahg, cu-cum!” You manage out, hips already bouncing on their own accord against them.

“Go ahead.” Bokuto says with a shaky breath, squeezing you as tight as he could between his body and Hinata’s. One more roll of their hips has you crashing down, pleasure rolling through your body. All you can feel is warmth and overwhelming satisfaction as you twitch between their arms, creaming across their cocks. “Good girl, good girl…” you faintly hear Bokuto coo into your ear as you slump back against him.

The buzzing, quiet moment is quickly squashed as he hoists you out of his lap and onto all fours. He’s talking to Hinata and you know you should be listening, but your pussy is still throbbing and you’re trying to catch your breath.

“...okay, baby?” You catch the very end of his sentence and blink hard, desperate to refocus.

“W-wait, what? Sorry, I just-”

“It’s okay, puppy,” he rubs a soothing hand down your back, slowly bringing you back to reality. “Need a second?”

You shake your head, the last of the fog slipping away. Before you, you see Hinata, his rigid cock slicked up by you only a few inches from your face. “I’m okay now, can you just say that again?”

“‘Course,” he grins, teasing your entrance, “I said I’m going to take your pretty pussy from back here and Shōyō is going to use your mouth. If you want.”

Wiggling your hips back to meet his and craning your neck up to look at Hinata you give a deft nod.

“I do, I want that.” You sigh.

Trembling with excitement, already so riled up from feeling you cum against him, Hinata shuffles the last bit forward. He’s pretty and much thicker than you had imagined. The tight strain of scattered veins and his heavy balls tell you all you need to know about how pent up he obviously is. Reaching out with palms still a bit shaky, you helped to reel him in the rest of the way with welcoming, parted lips.

You wrapped your fingers tightly around where you couldn’t quite reach, sloppily taking more and more of him with each bob of your head. His salty precum meshed with what was leftover of your own mess, the taste making you moan around his length.

Bokuto was trying to move slower now, recognizing that you were easily slipping, but the way you rocked your body back and forth bumping against his sensitive, reddened tip, he couldn’t hold back much more. Digging his fingers into your hip, he eased the motions of your body, lining himself up, resisting from plowing into you at full force.

“Ready?” He asks, nearly whining. At the sound of his voice, you pull off from Hinata, letting your quickly tiring jaw grow slack.

“Uh-huh.” You barely heave out before wrapping your lips around him again. So sure you can take both at once and not falter, you ramp back up to your original pace, slobbering down his cock, the click of your quick motions echoing around your head. Unfortunately for your ego, you’re dead wrong.

Bokuto wastes no time drilling himself into you, setting a bruising pace straight from the beginning. It’s all you can do to loudly moan around Hinata’s cock, still stuffed in your mouth by the slight pistoning of his hips, the way Bokuto is ramming you forward only forcing him deeper down your throat.

As you gag, sputter, and moan down his length, drool dripping onto the already soiled cushions below, Hinata feels the pressure building and building in his core. Electricity tingles down his limbs, aided by the fucked out look in your pretty eyes. He doesn’t even have to move now with the way Bokuto is railing you against him. He wonders if you realize he’s close when you suck a little tight, cheeks hollowing as you take a little more of him, the hand that had been working his base coming down to lightly hold his swollen balls.

You don’t know. At this point, you’re moving on autopilot, simply trying your best. Your brain doesn’t know where to focus - Hinata filling out your mouth or Bokuto as he purposely alternates between hitting against your spongy spot and deep inside of you. It’s all a mess of spit, sweat, and cum, but you don’t think you’ve felt the rush of pleasure that comes with being used so well by more than one person.

Bokuto doesn’t know how much longer he can last. You’re clamping around, cunt fluttering each time his digs in a little deep or Hinata’s cock twitches against your tongue. He can tell by the scrunched up expression on his friend’s face that he can’t last much longer and he doesn’t blame him. Between fucking against your pussy and being wrapped up in your pretty mouth, no one really could. He’s determined to hold out though, a little spark of competition lighting up his chest. When Bokuto’s strokes suddenly slow you groan again, the vibrations dragging a stuttered moan from Hinata’s pretty lips.

“Gonna, hngh, uh gonna cum.” He sputters out, hips quivering as he tries to hold back from fucking too far back into your throat. At that, Bokuto’s hips speed up again, forcing a little whimpered cry, muffled by the cock in your mouth, from you. Still, you force yourself to focus on Hinata, sucking him dry as soon as the first spurt of cum hits the back of your throat.

He cums fast and hard and a lot. It’s seeping out from your lips, making him messier than he already was until he’s pulling his softening length from your mouth and flopping back against the couch, gently rubbing your arm while he catches his breath. With a heavy grin, Bokuto shoves a hand between your shoulder blades, knocking you into Hinata’s lap. Somewhat in vain, you try to clean him off between the pitchy mewls and cries that you breathe out while Bokuto chases his own release.

In no time, he’s there again, his own pressure built up as high as it could just before he burst inside of you. He fucks himself raw, your tight hole sucking him in, his cum only making it easier to slip in and out of you. Knowing he’ll finish when he’s completely spent, you lie limp in Hinata’s lap and he lazily wraps a hand around the back of your neck, soothing the leftover tension. You recognize Bokuto’s nearly done when his cock stops twitching and his hips slot against yours with some finality just before he slumps over you.

Whining when he slips out, even soft his cock is still a tight squeeze, you fall all the way against the couch, legs giving out at last. He falls back against the back, moving your legs to sit on top of his thighs and massaging them with great care. Completely spent and drifting half-asleep you just barely hear him.

“So,” he starts, head lolling toward Hinata who’s still lightly working his fingers against your upper back, “Dinner next week?”

#bokuto x reader #hinata x reader #bokuto smut #hinata smut #bokuto x you #hinata x you #hq smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #hinata shoyo smut #bokuto kotaro smut #hq x reader

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baroquebucky · 4 years ago

Text

symphony

in which bucky realizes the light you’ve brought into his life

word count: 2.3k of pure fluff

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs !! hope u all enjoy this fluff as reparations for the amount of angst I’ve been writing <333 let me know what you guys think !! inspired by this song :] sorry for any typos !!

Life felt monotonous for bucky. Everyday he would wake up, go for a walk, sometimes go out for dinner with his neighbor other times he would just stay in. Then he would go to therapy, suffer there for a while before coming back and doing nothing. Throughout the week he would go to the compound or the gym and train to get his mind off things.

“I just feel like I’m stuck in a loop and i can’t get out of it, it’s like a boring song that everyone’s playing on repreat” bucky grumbled, sam nodded, listening to bucky as he vented.

“i think you need something new in your life, something to spice it up” Sam spoke gently, thinking for a bit before a smile appeared on his face, “i know just the thing!” He cheered.

“how is coffee gonna help me” bucky huffed, sam just rolled his eyes, dragging the super soldier along to his favorite coffee shop.

“no trust me, this coffee is amazing, they have all these other drinks too and the person who always takes my order is amazing” Sam cheered, a smile on his face as he rounded the corner and saw you through the glass.

“that’s them!” He smiled, turning to look at bucky, he stopped in his tracks.

“you aren’t trying to set me up on a date right now, right?” Bucky looked at Sam wide eyed and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head and grabbing Buckys wrist.

“if this was a date i would’ve made you dress better” Sam shot back, bucky frowned looking down at his clothes. What was so wrong with his clothes?

“this is my favorite jacket” bucky pouted and Sam rolled his eyes, as the door opened a small chime went off.

“good evening sam!” You called out, a bright smile on your face as you finished taking someone’s order. Sam and Bucky stood in line, waiting only a couple minutes before you helped them.

“your usual?” you beamed and Sam smiled, you wrote it down quickly, turning to bucky with a smile, “what can i get for you?” Bucky blushed a bit, avoiding eye contact with you and glancing at the menu.

“i- well uh i don’t know actually” bucky hesitated, sam cringed at his friend, elbowing him slightly.

“what do you recommend?” he asked quickly, and you turned to look down at the menu as if you didn’t have it memorized.

“hmm, well i really the special we have right now, if you’re not into sweet then i recommend that one” you pointed out with your pen a smile still on your face.

“whatever your favorite is” He spoke, heart beating in his chest as the words tumbled out. You felt your face heat up at his words, nodding quickly. Bucky paid and went to go sit next to Sam, ears red and face hot.

Sam simply chuckled at him, waiting patiently for you to call out their order numbers. Bucky kept glancing up, stealing glances at you and marveling at how pretty you were. The way you moved so easily and kept a smile on your face anytime someone looked your way.

Buckys heart sunk a bit. He wished he could be like that, all smiles and rainbows, like the way he used to be. He thought about how brooding he was and the way sam always commented on the way he stared too much. He tore his eyes away from you and focused on the decoration in the cafe.

“57 and 58!” You called out, setting the drinks on the counter looking out for Sam and bucky, smiling when you saw the two men getting up and walking towards you.

“thank you y/n!” Sam smiled and you nodded, eyes moving to bucky, he gave you a tight lipped smile before walking out. “that wasn’t so bad was it” Sam smirked and bucky rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink.

“oh wow this is really good” bucky mumbled, drinking some more and furrowing his brows, sam smiled at him, nodding in agreement.

The two men returned a couple times every week, you smiling at them and saying hello, giving bucky a new drink to try every time he came. The two of you stealing glances anytime you looked over while making the drink, heart rate spiking when your eyes met.

Bucky was giddy to see you, wondering what you would give him today. Sam frowned when your coworker greeted them instead of you.

“wheres y/n?” Sam asked, you coworker frowned at the mention of you before replying.

“oh they quit, our boss kept giving them shit” she sighed, “between you and i, they only stayed this long because you guys kept coming back” she smiled, her eyes moving to bucky, “specially you.”

As the two men were leaving your coworker called out for them, handing them a piece of paper. “she told me to give you guys this, have a good day!”

They looked at each other before unrolling the paper, you handwriting on it along with your phone number.

“text me when you want bird boy” Sam read, laughing a little, he turned to bucky, craning his neck to read his, “what’s your say” Bucky had a bashful smile on his face.

“oh just to text them whenever” bucky cleared his throat, shoving the piece of paper in his pocket.

i really hope we can hang out properly soon :) the paper read, scribbled under was a list of drinks you wanted him to try. Buckys heart fluttered at the action, the whole time he was with Sam you were the only thing he was thinking about.

When he finally got back to his apartment bucky texted you, heart racing as he sent the text.

hi it’s bucky, i got your note let me know when you’re free :-)

Your heart jumped at the message, the biggest smile on your face as you read the text over again, giggling as you replied.

hi buck!! I’m free this weekend actually :]

The two of you made plans quickly, excited for a proper date and not just stealing glances and making small talk when he ordered his drink or picked it up from the counter.

When Saturday evening came bucky was frantic, texting sam and asking what clothes he should wear, recalling the time he made fun of his clothes before he met you the first time.

You were nervous as you got ready, hands shaking slightly as you changed into some nice clothing. You checked yourself out in the mirror and smiled, fixing your hair a bit.

The doorbell rang and you jumped, heart racing as you walked to the door, opening it with a smile.

Bucky stood there with roses in his hands, a bright smile on his face. He chocked on his breath a little as he took you in, it was the first time he’d seen you out of uniform and god you were perfect.

“oh thank you!” You blushed, smiling as you took the flowers from him, “come in I’ll just put these in water” you smiled, letting him in and quickly moving to put the flowers in a vase.

Your apartment was so comforting, bucky felt like he was safe there, he felt so at peace despite his heart racing in his chest.

“ready?” You asked and bucky smiled, he could hear the way your heart raced after you not so secretly checked him out. He was wearing a dark blue t shirt and a leather jacket along with some black pants.

“so where are we going?” You questioned and bucky smiled, turning to look at you nervously before focusing on the road again.

“is the fair okay? I know there’s one in town and I’ve been wanting to go but-” he rambled and you cut him off excitedly.

“i love the fair! I’m really good at those shooting games y’know” you bragged and bucky smiled, excited to see how skilled you were. “however i will not compete against you” you added quickly, making bucky frown.

“too scared I’ll beat you doll?” Bucky smirked and your heart raced at the nickname, your comeback dying on your lips. Bucky smiled as you sat there with your mouth open, looking away quickly before changing the subject.

As the two of you arrived bucky immediately knew he made the right choice, the way you had the widest smile on your face as you pointed everything out to him, eyes wide as you saw the giant dinosaur plush.

“you have a metal arm dont you?” You whispered and bucky smiled, nodding his head. “would it be, i don’t know, immoral for you to use it to get that dinosaur plush?” You blushed, giggling as bucky gasped at you.

“i cant believe you!” He teased and you frowned, bucky smiled at you, taking your hand in his and walking towards the game. He handed the man the tickets to play and held the heavy ball in his hands.

“you just have to knock all three cups over” the man spoke and bucky nodded, placing the ball in his right hand before throwing it, easily knocking the cups down.

“yay!” You cheered, running next to bucky and hugging him, the man handed you the giant plush and you smiled, staring at bucky with starry eyes.

“didn’t even use your metal arms sergeant” you teased and Buckys heart lurched at the titles. His heart was in frenzy as you smirked up at him.

“I’m a super soldier doll” he smiled at your face turned into one of realization, nodding your head.

“right, i forgot about that” you mumbled, struggling to keep the dinosaur plush from touching the ground, bucky smiled at you before he took it from your hands, easily tucking it under his arm.

“thanks” you blushed and bucky nodded, a smile on his face as he replied.

“cant have my best girl struggling on our first date can we” you blushed at his words, looking at him with a bright smile.

“first? as in more to come?” You questioned, a smile on your face as you stopped in your tracks, the lights from some ride illuminating your face in reds and pinks. Bucky nodded, suddenly his confidence was sizzling away.

“I mean unless you don’t want to that’s fine too i just- i mean” bucky rambled and you watched him struggle for a bit, biting your bottom lip before stopping him.

“I’d love to go on more dates” you spoke up, bucky smiled at you, letting out a small breath, “now let’s go to the Ferris wheel!” You easily slipping your hand in his.

Everything felt so easy with bucky, it never felt forced. The two of you constantly texting and calling when you weren’t together and grabbing dinner and going on dates more and more often. It was only a matter of time before bucky asked you out, everything falling into place for the two of you.

The two of you were in bed, you were cuddled up into his side as you watched a documentary on some lions. Bucky ran his fingers through your hair and you sighed, relaxing into his touch. It had been almost two years since the two of you went on your first date, but to bucky it felt like yesterday.

“you know i love you, right doll” he spoke suddenly and you looked at him, confused before nodding.

“i love you too loverboy” you replied, sitting up and kissing his cheek.

“don’t know where I’d be without you” he spoke softly, his blue eyes meeting yours, he smiled softly. “I used to think i was broken and no one would want me” he mumbled and you frowned, letting him continue.

“the only reason sam took me to that cafe was because i was stuck in this loop and i was going crazy” he laughed softly, “i thought i was never gonna get out of this funk but then” he stopped.

You looked at him, confused as he smiled at you, peppering kissing all over your face before caressing your cheek and kissing your forehead.

“then what?” You whispered, a smile on your face when you realized what he was going to say.

“then you came along” he replied, smiling at the way you wiggled to face him.

“you took me and you made me into a better person, you made my life so much better and now it’s like there’s a symphony playing anytime in with you” he spoke, a smile on his face when you reached your hand out and ran your fingers through his hair. You stopped your hand at the nape of his neck, pushing him towards you and crashing your lips onto his.

It was sloppy and passionate, but it was sweet. The two of you smiling into the kiss before giving him one last peck and pulling away.

“oh lovebug, that songs always been inside you, just needed a little tuning to get it right” you replied, taking him into your arms as he laid down on your chest.

For once, bucky was grateful sam had forced him to go out, he was grateful that you were working that day and you recommend him a drink. He was grateful that you went to the fair with him and you liked him enough to go on another date.

Bucky no longer wished to be like you, he didn’t long for the person he was in the 40s. He didn’t wish he could change into someone else anymore.

He didn’t because he was more himself than he had ever been. He was happy and he was at peace, he was who he had always wanted to become. He didn’t feel like he was stuck in the shadows in a constant loop.

Bucky smiled as you placed a gentle kiss on top of his head, mumbling a soft ‘i love you.’

Bucky felt happy, he felt at home and he felt in love. He was finally at peace with his life now that you were in it. You helped him become who he was, pushed him to be better and to change into who he wanted to be.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #soft bucky barnes #bucky barnes Drabble #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes blurb #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #soft bucky #domestic bucky barnes

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dancingamongstdust · 3 years ago

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Can you write a tsukishima kei X reader where they both tease eachother but don't realise that they have feelings for eachother. Then tsukishima says something really offensive to reader and she gets really upsets and ignores him, he then realizes his feelings for her?

I struggled writing this but it was actually quite fun! Thank you for the request.

Teasing was something fun. The tumbling words were light and playful, hinting at something more but never letting their secrets free.

You lived for the flash of annoyance in Tsukishima’s hazel eyes; a small smirk always betraying that he enjoyed the banter. Whether you were speaking to him or commenting loud enough to draw his attention, he would turn to you fully and respond in kind. Though his words dripped in sarcasm, you never took them personally.

Perhaps you should have. Your comments never held any malice and you always strayed away from actual insults.

Tsukishima didn’t quite understand that part of your game.

Some of the things that he said stung. In those times, you’d just flip him off and pretend to go about your day without a second thought. But they did bother you.

Enough to find you standing in front of your mirror and glaring at your reflection as though it could give you the answers. Everything about your relationship with Tsukishima was frivolous. You had never held a real conversation. He was just a stupidly confident man with a sharp tongue and honeyed hair. His glasses were ridiculous, his taste in music was poor, and his eyes were the type of golden brown that snatched your breath from your lungs.

You groaned and turned away from your reflection.

Why did you have to fall for him?

Was it because of his voice and the soft edge that lay beneath its harsh words? Perhaps the gentleness of his movements had drawn your attention. He never looked out of place and you envied him that.

You contemplated telling him initially but decided against it. Getting a better feel of his attitude towards you would help before any misguided confessions slipped out.

That lasted until the next day.

“I know I shouldn’t be expecting anything intelligent to come from you but think things through a little more before you speak.”

Tsukishima glanced down at you as he passed, the hint of a smile on his lips. The insult wasn’t meant. He had often mocked your intelligence before to little response – after all, he knew that you didn’t get easily offended.

This time though, you didn’t immediately respond and when you did, it was just a slight jab about something trivial.

He turned around to look back at you but you had hurried off somewhere.

Shrugging that off, he continued on his day until the next time he saw you. When he did, he waited for the retaliation.

And waited.

He was so focused on listening out for your snide comment that he didn’t even pay attention to his other conversation. Yamaguchi, thankfully, didn’t need an active participant in his discussion. He only seemed minorly confused by Tsukishima’s confusion before continuing.

Once you’d left, he sighed and said, “Maybe it’s been a bad day.”

Tsukishima glanced over his shoulder to confirm you hadn’t walked back in. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You didn’t, like, call her a bitch, right?”

“What? Obviously not.”

Yamaguchi shrugged. “Then don’t worry so much about it. She’ll be back to normal soon.”

Tsukishima scoffed, electing to pretend the conversation was unimportant. He changed the topic onto something that was more in his area of expertise but his thoughts kept hanging on you. It irritated him to no end and he spent the rest of the day snapping a little too harshly at everybody.

The next day went no better.

He waited to hear your voice, having never realised before how well he knew it. It was something missing from his day and he didn’t even know why.

“It’s not my fault if she’s going to be sensitive about stupid stuff,” he stated when Yamaguchi next commented about your unusual silent treatment.

“Nope. Some people are just soft.”

“You’re one of those people,” Tsukishima had retorted. He meant it mockingly though any kind of rudeness had little effect on his best friend. It was part of who he was… he had really believed you understood that.

Yamaguchi tried to move on but Tsukishima continued with his complaints.

“Why would she just suddenly start taking offense to things?”

“Maybe you hit a nerve.”

“How was I meant to know she was touchy about her intelligence? Anyway, it was days ago. She should be over it by now.”

“If it’s bothering you that much, just say sorry.”

“It’s not bothering me.”

He wasn’t stupid – of course, it was – but he was hardly about to tell somebody that. You were nobody to him and your lack of comments was an absolute relief. In fact, he was rather happy that you had decided to finally take the hint.

A whole month passed and he stopped waiting to hear your voice. His stubbornness kept any apology away from you, even though one accidental meetup in the hall had nearly drawn one out. It was honestly ridiculous, he had nothing to apologise about.

He could apologise just to have you speak to him again… Tsukishima quickly chased away that traitorous thought. It was rare for him to apologise for things that actually required it, let alone for nonsense like this. A simple fact that everybody he complained to seemed to directly refute.

Just apologise. Just apologise. Like he cared enough to do so.

It took him another two months to realise why he minded so much. Why he was still hung up on you despite your supposed non-importance.

He had been walking with Yamaguchi when they passed a flower store, the place having a special on roses for your loved ones. Yamaguchi had decided to get some and for a split second, Tsukishima had touched the petals and considered buying some for you.

He pulled his hand away as though it had been burned.

“Normally you get fifteen for a situation like this.”

He scoffed at Yamaguchi. “You really need to deal with your obsession about this woman.”

Tsukishima didn’t buy fifteen roses but he realised then what it was about you that bothered him so. And he absolutely hated the conclusion that he came to.

He stepped in front of you the next day, drawing your attention to him (though he didn’t know that it rarely left). “Why are you ignoring me?” he asked.

“I’m not?” It sounded like a question, even to you.

Tsukishima wasn’t going to argue with you about it. He just raised an eyebrow and waited for you to sigh and continue.

“I’m just… I…”

“Wow that explains it very well.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Would it kill you to say something nice?”

“Since when have we ever been nice to each other?” he asked.

Of course you didn’t have an answer for that. You had never been ‘nice’ to each other – at least not in the way most people would consider nice. But the thing was, those moments still came to your memory fondly.

“You know, I always made sure never to actually insult you,” you said.

“I never actually insulted you.”

“Yes, you did,” you pointed out. “You’re constantly pointing out how stupid I am or how uncoordinated I am or whatever!”

“It’s not like I meant them.”

That tripped you up a little. Tsukishima’s height had you looking up at him, his expression entirely unchanged. Why would he have said things that weren’t true? It wasn’t like you had even initiated this entire taunt exchange way back when you had first met. Sure, you had responded but it was his comment on your hair that had gotten to you.

“You didn’t… what?”

Tsukishima stared at you like you were stupid. “It’s not my fault if you choose to take things personally but get over it a bit quicker, would you?”

It wasn’t an apology, not by a long shot, but it was enough to explain something that you couldn’t quite pinpoint yourself. Tsukishima wanted to talk to you. Even if he thought you were being childish, his main problem lay in your sudden silent treatment.

“We’re not friends,” you said.

“No.”

“So why do you care if we’re talking or not?”

He shrugged. “I don’t.”

He did. Of course he did. Part of him wanted to say that but his pride just wouldn’t allow it. Thankfully, the message seemed to get through to you regardless.

“Do you want to go out for lunch?” you offered.

“Why would I ever want to do that?”

You smiled, noticing the small smirk’s appearance on his face. “Tomorrow. At 12.”

“Fine.”

Tsukishima left you standing there, refusing to glance back even if he wanted to. He told himself it was because he didn’t care and it had nothing to do with the uncharacteristic smile on his face.

#haikyuu!!#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei

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well-its-not-human-anymore · 3 years ago

Note

Ok so like......a little bit ago you did some general headcanons for the TMNT boys in a relationship and I just love to imagine donnie with an s/o who's also a huge star wars fan like......picture sparring but the two of you just start making lightsaber noises and quoting lines as a form of banter.....and sometimes you start little fights about it because it's just fun to be like "you know I think Greedo shot first" and hear him go "whAT" three rooms over and rush to wherever you are......or having marathons every so often and needing pause every 10 minutes because one of you has another rant/theory about what's happening........and like cosplaying together and raising both your confidence and just having fun with it.......and the general shared fan behavior over merchandise and characters.....sorry your headcanons just inspired me and I wanted to share some of my thoughts. Anyway have a great day :)

Hey guys I'm back! Sorry for such a long hiatus, had some life shit I needed to work through. School's out and summer has been pretty okay so far, but if you've got any college tips for me please message me, I'll take all the advice I can get.

Anyways- I'm doing what I can to get back into writing, TMNT was a mild hyperfixation that I had a while ago, I never expected to gain so much traction on here for my writing. I hope you can understand my surprise when I got so much positive feedback and I do feel a little guilty for all of the requests that have sat in my inbox for months.

But no matter- I'm back now with a vengeance and I will be doing my best to push out more content. So thanks for being patient! Now that that's out of the way, let's get this show on the road.

TMNT Headcanons

In which everyone is afraid to ship people in the Star Wars universe in fear that they might be siblings (aka, Donnie's s/o is a huge star wars nerd and everyone else is fucking sick of it)

Donnie was dead on the floor the second you made a Star Wars reference in front of him

dead in all capitals

dead in italic font

dead™

thing was, he'd already thought you were cool before you made the reference, you were Casey's friend and you weren't scared of him or his brothers

he had the very vivid memory of you yanking a crowbar out of a discarded toolbox in an alley when you'd first met and using it to hit a foot soldier over the head

that hadn't surprised him too much, it was the noises you were making with your mouth

"are you-"

"yeah," you shrugged, "making lightsaber noises makes me feel better about rocking his absolute shit with this thing."

Donnie was a little wary of you after that

but it admittedly turned into admiration when you'd started dating

well, most of the time, you jumping at him at 3am screaming "you were the chosen one!" because he'd accidentally eaten your leftovers wasn't what he'd call endearing

it did make him careful not to eat your food however

and god knows you two couldn't get 5 minutes into a movie without pausing it to dissect the plot, much to everyone else's annoyance

the worst times were when you didn't pause it, the others would watch you talk for 15 minutes as the movie went on before you stopped and had to rewind

what should've taken only 3 hours ended up lasting 5 or 6

the others eventually banned you two from watching star wars with them

you were fine with it, more time to talk anyways

sometimes it was extremely helpful, spirit-lifting if you will

you wouldn't, it sounded really cheesy and you were lactose intolerant as fuck

but it did help when the mood was a little sour

you'd walked in on the entire family moping about, you didn't have to ask what happened, you knew they'd had another fight

your eyes landed on Leo first and you decided to roll with it

"I did it."

they noticed how low your voice was first, and when they looked at you your expression was dark

"Uh... did what exactly?" Mikey was the first to respond

"I killed them- I killed them all. Not just the men. But the women and children too."

maybe it was your face, maybe your horrible impression of Anakin, whatever it was it made Raph snort so hard he fell into a coughing fit

Donnie did that near imperceptible giggle he always did whenever he found something funny and hearing that sent Mikey into a fit of laughter

Leo cracked last, not laughing entirely but he gave you that amused side smile and shook his head

yeah, you were pretty good at lifting the mood

sometimes it served very helpfully as a method to get Donnie out of his lab

one day when you were over having lunch with the others you immediately noticed your boyfriend's absence. you didn't comment- usually he came out on his own accord

but he didn't

Raph had sighed and rose to retrieve his younger brother

"hang on a sec Raph," you were mumbling through a mouthful of sandwich and waving at the wall of muscle. it took a moment for you to swallow your food before you winked at the others

then you raised your voice just a little and announced-

"yeah- that's an interesting take on that, but I still say that Greedo shot first"

you counted on your hands, your eyes twinkling with amusement

3-2-1-

"YOU WHAT?!"

"there we go."

all six and a half feet of the purple genius came tumbling down the hall and into the kitchen, gaze landing on you in complete and utter shock

"Works like a charm, hey darling, it's lunchtime and you need to eat."

"But-"

"You can chastise me later, now sit down and put food in your face."

he managed to shut his mouth and sit down at the table and at that moment the rest of the family burst into rambunctious laughter

Donnie was halfway through his second sandwich when he looked up at you again

"you don't actually think that, right?"

You snorted into your apple juice

"Of course not Donnie, I'm a dumbass, not an idiot."

I had SO much fun writing this, forgot how much I missed doing it. I hope you like it! And thanks for being patient with me!

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #tmnt donatello #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #ask response #askbox #submission #answered

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obae-me · 4 years ago

Text

Upside Down CH-1

Author’s Note: Hi, yes, hello, welcome to the fic series that no one asked for! Do I have other things I need to finish? Yes! But has this been the only thing on my mind for the past four days? Also yes! For some reason I was incapable of writing anything else! Thanks, brain, for this out of the blue obsession!

Tags: Reverse AU

Word Count: 4587

Next Chapter

Hell Away From Hell

Wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was a mistake. It had to be. Although, with every clink of your restraints, your reality was becoming ever clearer. The chains rattled, echoing down the hall like a set of twisted wind chimes. Ones that sung of your dismal fortune. The demon ahead of you yanked the lead attached to your cuffs, sending you stumbling forward. You bit your lip to keep from cursing. Steading your body, you took their less-than-subtle message and picked up the pace. Keeping your eyes glued towards your destination, your stomach sank to your knees. Why? Why had you been brought to the castle? You hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, not anything to warrant being escorted by the palace guards in chains. And as they led you silently inside, past the polished halls and gaudy antiques, your fate pounded just fervently in your mind as your heart was in your chest.

They were going to present you in front of the prince.

It was torture in and of itself just making it to the throne room. The worst part about it all was your rampant imagination. You could only imagine what type of horrific techniques the prince was aware of. Halting in front of the large double doors, the demon behind you moved to open the entrance. Holding it open, the guard tugging you along guided you in. You managed to take only a few steps inside the room before you were practically thrown inside, your body tumbling over the ground. Both the guards smirked at you, flashing their pointed fangs in their conceited gestures before shutting the door, leaving you alone inside.

“MC.” All the air inside your lungs had conveniently escaped. Lifting your chest off the ground, you tightened your lips as you met his gaze. Those glistening emerald eyes pierced right through you. Quickly, you lowered your eyes, attempting to show as much respect as you could to gain his favor.

“M-my lord.”

The melodic note that left his throat was a mix between a laugh and a coo. “Now, now, none of that groveling. I had you brought here to ask you a favor!” You could hear him stand to his feet, and you watched his shoes approach, clicking against the marbled tile. Then, you felt the smooth skin of his hand caress your right horn. The sudden sensitive feeling had your tail rapidly twitch and tuck under your leg. He pushed your horns back, raising your chin so you could look up at him. His dark hair drifted down across his forehead, curling around his horns that curved above his head like a broken halo, his face soft and inviting, and yet your gut wouldn’t let you believe it. “Please, from now on, just call me Simeon.”

Simeon hummed as he lifted his tea cup to his lips. He had been hospitable enough, but you still couldn’t shake this feeling of unease. Plus...what he had brought you in to ask you was...well, something short of insanity. You continued to rub your wrists where your constraints had been. And as much as the prince of hell apologized for his guard’s brutish behavior, you had a feeling it was purposeful. A message of sorts. Even now, as he had his little servant bring in sweets and tea as sickly sweet as it could get, it all tasted bitter to your tongue. “So let me get this straight,” you started. “You want me to be a member of this…”

The prince tilted his head, eyes practically shining. “Restoration program.”

You cleared your throat after the little scone this blonde demon had given you made your throat run dry. “R-right. And I’m assuming I don’t have a choice in the matter?”

His voice was soft, but the light reflecting off his horns and his fangs suggested another answer. “We all have choices, MC.”

Swallowing your nervousness, you lowered your head again. “But, with all due respect, sir...why? Why a restoration program?”

Another voice chuckled behind your figure. “Because, why not?” You strained your neck, getting a view at the newcomer behind you. White hair, a mischievous smile, and something unknown swimming at the back of those dark eyes. Not only that, but the figure was wearing clothes as pure as clouds, with a certain glow to him.

Simeon stood, hand out to greet this person as if they were an old friend-and for all you knew, they might’ve been. “Solomon, how good to see you.”

The new guest-now known to you as Solomon-beamed. “Likewise. You’re looking well.” He turned, giving you a once-over to take you in before nodding. “And you are MC, yes?”

Glaring, already feeling your skin about to burn, you leaned away from him. “And you’re an angel.” Your distrustful attitude let him frown for just a moment, but whether it was just his angelic nature or his personality, that smile was right back on his face.

“Yes, well, the plan requires an angel, so Simeon personally asked me for my hand in this matter.”

The both of them could tell that you were unbelievably confused, so Simeon gestured for the angel to take a seat at the table. “Luke.” The prince gestured to his small servant, the one who had not only brought you sweets but had taken the liberty to be staring you down the entire time. Finally, he turned his attention away from you. “Please do me a favor and get our new guest some refreshments.” The lesser demon squinted at you, nearly growled at the angel, and then took his leave with rapid little steps. Simeon laughed quietly to himself. “Don’t worry about him, he’s not used to others quite yet. But, MC.” With your name mentioned, you straightened your posture. “I’ve been planning this for quite some time. It’s been a desire of mine to bring the three realms closer together.” You couldn’t help but wonder why, what purpose it served, but you kept your mouth shut. “And while I’ve started to make decent progress fixing the old wounds between the Devildom and Celestial Realm, most of my kingdom and Solomon’s people refuse to make connections with the humans.”

Mortals...even just the mention managed to leave a heavy pit in your stomach. “If I may speak.” You waited for the prince’s go-ahead before speaking your mind. “What would be the point of connecting with the humans? They serve little purpose. They’re either so corrupt they destroy their own kind or they think they’re so pure they isolate themselves or get themselves killed in the name of their twisted justice.” Speaking so passionately against the idea, you didn’t realize your nails had grown into talons, leaving marks in the wooden table. You took a breath, reclaiming your typical form. “They can’t even do themselves any good, what makes you think they’d be good for our realms?”

Solomon, an expression of understanding mixed with pity, bounced a little in his seat. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” He turned his head to Simeon, who was nodding at you with a bit of approval.

“That’s what this plan is all about. Testing them, observing them. We’ll be watching these humans, and at the end of this project, we’ll be able to determine if they’re ready and worthy of being brought together with us.” The ruler crossed one leg over the other, his tone making it sound as it was as simple as eating pie.

Setting down the fork to your pastry, you felt a sense of dread wash over you. “And by we you mean?”

“Why, you and Solomon of course! A demon and an angel, both working together to restore the bond between the human world and ours! The Demonic and Angelic Restoration program! Or D.A.R. -dare- for short.” If it weren’t for the horns, you’d almost think this demon was an angel with the way he eagerly talked about restoring bonds and bettering the nature of the realms. But, then you felt nauseous.

“What...what exactly do you need me to do to help with this...program? And why me?”

It was actually the angel that spoke up. “I’m sure you’re aware of the Morningstars?”

It was such a silly question, you ended up scoffing. “Who doesn’t down here? Those brothers are filled with so much corruption and chaos they end up fueling about half the lesser demons down here...why?”

They both straight up ignored your question and instead asked you some of their own. Simeon leaned forward, looking at you intently. “It took me quite a bit of time to find you MC. Most people don’t know you exist, and those that do hardly know your name. You simply are known to most as Isolation. Is it true that you’ve never made a pact with a human? Rumor is that you even refuse to subsist off their sins. And you’ve never taken a soul? That’s typically unheard of nowadays.”

Shifting in your seat, you gave it to them straight. “It’s true. I do whatever I can to avoid contact. Haven’t even seen a human in the past millennia. Haven’t talked to one in about twice that time.”

Clapping his hands together, Simeon let out an amazed sigh. “Perfect. You will be able to have a fresh eye! A clean slate. An unbiased--well, mostly unbiased opinion. You won’t be tempted to corrupt them, you’ll give me honest answers.”

“Plus,” the angel agreed, “if you have the strength and willpower to live without human sustenance and influence for this long, you probably will have the patience to keep from killing them. If anyone could manage to live with the Morningstars, it would be you, from what I’ve heard.”

You were grateful you had put down your drink a while ago. Your breath caught in your throat. “Wait, excuse me, what did you say? Live...with the…”

“Mr. Morningstar!” A laugh, a handshake, even a pat on the shoulder, it nearly made you ill watching the upcoming king of the Devildom greet a human like this so casually. You couldn’t help but sneak glances at this mortal...one of the Morningstars, the eldest. The one who fueled the most demons without even knowing about it. People down in the Devildom called him by Pride. A human world CEO-whatever that meant. He was powerful, influential, not to mention ridiculously rich. And he’d do whatever it took to keep his status, even at the misfortune of plenty of other people. His suit and posture told you pretty much all you needed to know about him. A fancy well tailored pitch black suit, a striking red tie with a subtle but regal diamond design, diamond cufflinks, the works. It was as if dust and winkles knew to avoid him entirely. His hair was as dark as his suit, save for the ends which were greying. He didn’t seem that old, so you wondered if it was intentional or simply stress. You thought you heard someone say that once, that humans could get grey hair from stress. Did they all possess capabilities to change their hair based on their emotions? That human lady you saw outside the building with the blue hair must’ve been feeling something intense.

“Mr-” The human you had come to see was cut off.

“Please, you know to call me Simeon by now!”

The mortal cleared his throat. “Simeon…” The human glanced at you, and raised his chin as he took Simeon by the shoulders and brought him away from you. If you had been a human, it would’ve been a decent tactic to keep you out of earshot. Unfortunately, you could still hear everything they were saying. “I know you have good standing with the company, and I’m pleased to know you respect and trust me with such a task, but...this is far from business.” You could feel his eyes on you. “I have to respectfully decline your request. I don’t think I can allow them to live with us for a year. You know my family.”

“It would only be for a year, and I know you have plenty of room in that house of yours!” Simeon laughed a bit and then lowered his voice. You could feel the alluring pull of his influence flood the space. The human stiffened, his intuition picking up on a shift in the room. “Besides, Lucifer. You know I wouldn’t ask for a favor like this without some proper and well deserved remuneration. Listen...I happen to have something on the head of that business owner that’s been butting heads with your company. Wouldn’t it be nice to have them completely out of the picture? Not only is that increasing your profit, but if they happen to...I don’t know, completely go bankrupt, that little building of theirs on the corner of Main is some prime real estate.” Reaching into his pocket, Simeon pulled out a small...plastic...rectangle of sorts, with metal on one end. “I got everything right here.” Smiling, one hand firmly against Lucifer’s upper back, he looked him right in the eyes and whispered something you knew would have this human caught. “You can’t let them bother you like this. You need to show them and everyone else who you are, and that you’re not to be messed with.”

It took the mortal a moment of internal struggle. Decline the offer and figure things out himself without assistance? Or swallow the smallest bit of ego for self satisfaction? Either way, this mortal was past helping. Already drowning in pride. Eventually, he gripped the object, tucking it into a pocket beneath his suit jacket. Despite being handed assistance, he still found a way to be demanding. “Alright, but no more than a year, and if I feel like anything is going awry, I’m sending them away. Is it really too unreasonable to just set them up on their own? Surely for you it’s no problem.”

Backing up slightly after his incentive worked, Simeon shook his head. “I would feel endlessly guilty leaving alone, desolate, isolated, after what happened. Poor thing...they haven’t even said a word to me in days.” That last part wasn’t a lie. You’d nearly refused to say anything to him since being dragged to the human world. Prince or no prince. “My poor cousin, suddenly losing all their family like that. It’s tragic, isn’t it? Losing people you love?”

Lucifer, with his arms folded, let his hand tightly grip the fabric of one of his sleeves. His eyes lowered the slightest touch, his jaw tightening. “It...is...I know it all too well.” You caught a hint of some emotion from the mortal.

“Then you know that what would be best for them right now is company. Trust me, I wouldn’t have brought them to you if I didn’t think it would help. Besides, this is a win for all parties involved, right?” Simeon gestured to the gift Lucifer had tucked away, and the last string of resistance had been snipped.

Sighing, the human looked at the luxurious watch on his wrist. “I’ll take them home. Let my brothers know what’s happening. Is it too much to assume they’ll be better behaved with a guest in the house?”

Laughing once more, the prince shrugged. If only Lucifer knew who he was in the presence of. “You’ll all just have to find out!” Patting the other man on the shoulder, Simeon then came over to you with his arms outstretched. “It’s all settled, MC!” He pulled you into a hug, taking the time to speak quietly to you. “Remember to keep your identity a secret. I’ll be checking up on you and Solomon once a month for a report. Keep them safe. Play nice.” He pulled apart, coming around behind you and settling his hands on your shoulders. “And remember, what Mr. Morningstar is doing is unbelievably nice, so make sure to thank him and keep yourself out of trouble.”

You broke your vow of silence out of irritation. “I’m not a child you’re sending away to school. I know how to keep my own head on my shoulders.” You attempted to brush his hands off but the grip was tightened. Swallowing your frustration, you kept yourself from grimacing, looking at the fabled Lucifer Morningstar. “Thank you...for letting me live with you.”

For a human, he had a tenacity for picking up on things. He noticed your lie, giving you a stare down of his own before grabbing his phone. You only recently figured out what those devices were. Simeon had made sure he gifted you one of your own, since apparently it was the main source of communication in this realm. Too strange, but you picked it up fairly quickly. Lucifer just raised his head and pressed his cell against his ear. “Just make sure you refrain from being as irksome as my brothers.” The line he was dialing picked up. “Yes, have a driver prepare to come pick me up. And someone please contact my brothers for me so they know I’m bringing home a...guest.”

It was going to be a long year…

The...metal contraption rumbled, making your head feel light. Without magic to get around, they had to use...these things. The movement slowed till it came to a stop. Looking out the pane of glass, you peered forward to see what the issue was. A big red circular light shone a bright crimson in front of the lane. Was it a threat? If so, why was the world seemingly filled with them? Then the eye turned green and the long carriage rumbled back to life. It was completely different than the last time you had been here.

“Before you even step foot in my home, we need to set some ground rules.” Even just the sound of his voice almost physically rubbed you the wrong way. You bit the inside of your cheek. Play nice, the prince had said. How long could you keep your patience around these mortals? You looked up at him, feeling him stare you down to the corrupt depths of your soul. “Since you’re going to be living with us for so long, you’re going to have to follow the same rules I give my brothers? Understand?”

Was this all worth it? Would having your soul be torn to shreds be that bad? “Yes.”

He nodded, then decided his attention would be better focused towards whatever he had on that electronic device of his. He gave you orders without even looking at you. No wonder all the lesser demons who fawned after him were so pretentious. “No parties. No pets. You can stay up however long you want, but you must be back at the house no later than midnight. You can have your own room but you must keep it clean, don’t expect me to hire a maid for you. You’re responsible for looking after yourself. I might be providing a roof over your head, but anything you need is up to you. You break anything, you’re responsible for replacing it. Just use the basic level of common sense and we should have no trouble. Hopefully the year will be over before we—oh excuse me.” Without another word he picked another call, his third one since you’d been blackmailed into this ride. You just gave a gentle sigh and stared out the window. Just a few days ago you’d still existed in your botherless existence. A personal utopia of your own making. Now you were in this...hell away from hell, the scent of smog and exhaust still burning the inside of your nose.

The rest of the ride was spent with you trying to think of ways to escape this fate, but finding none in sight. You didn’t need to fully see the building to get this overwhelming wave of impurity. The tempting allure of sin. Practically a demon buffet. These morons were just screaming to be killed or worse, eaten. Even just approaching the gate to the driveway, you could see remnants of spirits, demons without full forms clawing at the fence. Wisps of black sinking into their sidewalk. But not even those, you could smell the presence of other lesser demons...but more dangerous ones. Outside the gate were small crowds, not too many, but enough to safely conceal their presence. Photographers, journalists, fans, wherever they were, they were eager to get in. And amongst the rabble stood demons pretending to be mortals in an attempt to sink their fangs into one of the Morningstars. You slunk down in your seat, trying to conceal your presence, but you were sure they’d be able to feel you. The car slipped past all of them, approaching the first set of gates. Whoever was patrolling the vehicle pressed their fingers against a small pad attached to a pillar by the gate. It waited for a moment, then made an affirming noise before the gate swung open. The cries of mortal and hidden demons alike pleading for the smallest sliver of attention from this human made you feel sick.

Despite having nearly ignored you the whole time, Lucifer scoffed. “You’ll get used to it.” The curved metal fence shut behind you, and the sound of the crowd slowly faded as you pulled up in front of the massive house. If anything, it reminded you a little of home. It was an old fashioned looking house, but fanciful nonetheless. With dark stone, piercing towers, arched windows, and an overall gothic aesthetic. You managed to take a moment to breathe. At least there was one silver lining. Lucifer stepped out of the idle vehicle first, paying you no mind as he approached the steps to the door. Slightly panicking, you tried simply pushing the door before noticing the small handle. Pulling it unlocked it, and you rapidly exited, feeling the motion sickness fade with your feet on the ground. You followed the mortal to the door, and was slightly pleased when he put his phone away to open the door, leaving it open for you. Lucifer shut the door, a small high pitched noise ringing through your ears. You turned and watched him mess with a little panel near the door. “Our security is top of the market. I make sure the code is changed every day, so if you’re not inside by midnight, I hope you enjoy camping.”

You were about to speak up about that, but both of you were bombarded with noise. A noise you would later learn to get used to. “Oi! Lucifer!” A bundle of energy came racing down the stairs. Wild hair, dark skin, rings on nearly every finger, you recognized this individual without having to ask his name. You could feel the influence. Greed. Demons almost loved this brother more than Pride, because from what you’d heard, he’d make deals impulsively with demons without knowing their true intentions. As long as money or something expensive was in front of him, he’d jump for anything. It had gotten him in more than enough trouble, and it made him too much of a prime target. At least Lucifer knew how to look over his shoulder. The second brother confronted the eldest. He didn’t even glance at you. “Hey, I need some cash! For some reason my card keeps declining...you can spot me right?”

Lucifer didn’t even hesitate. “No.”

“Eh? Why not?! I did that thing the other day for you, remember?”

“Hm?” Lucifer tilted his head, taking the time to recall-or pretending to. “Which thing would that be? Would it have been before or after you stole and immediately maxed out my card?” Lowering his eyes, the older one gave off a menacing smile.

Mammon took a step back, muttering. “O-oh you found about that, huh?”

The smile turned into a full on yell. “Of course I found out! I got a call from the bank as soon as they saw the purchase! What exactly do you need a golden tiger statue for, Mammon? Seriously, you’re absolutely ridiculous! I returned it by the way, and in the meantime I cancelled all your cards.” Mammon went to open his mouth in anger but didn’t have the chance to say anything. “You can try to find some extra work to pay off all the bills you’ve left me with. And if I think you’re ready, I’ll reopen your accounts in two months.” The effort of shouting sent Pride’s eye twitching. He lifted a hand to press against his forehead, the blood draining from his face. You shifted ever so slightly in your spot and he groaned. “Right, you’re here. Mammon, this is MC.”

Eyebrows raised, he jumped a little when he finally spotted you were in the room. “Wait, wait, wait, that whole thing with someone staying with us for a year wasn’t a joke?”

“No.” Although the slight warble to his voice seemed that that fact was just now settling in. “It wasn’t. And since you’ve so kindly volunteered yourself, you can take their bags and show them to their room.” He simply turned. No welcome, no tour, no warmth in those cold eyes of his.

“Hey! Come back here!” Yet the younger sibling showed no signs of chasing after him. “Lucifer!” His older brother just quickly headed up the stairs and disappeared into the house. Was it really going to require a full year of observation? Just from what you were seeing right now, you wanted nothing to do with humans. Nothing. Mammon ran a hand through his hair, one of his strands getting stuck in one of his rings, but he tugged it out without noticing, like it was a daily occurrence. “I can’t believe this.” You could watch as the anger started to swell within him. “Screw this, I’m out of here!” You were ready for him to leave, to give into his emotions. He had wrapped his hand around the door handle before he stopped. Pausing, he just tutted to himself before shoving his hands in his jacket-pockets, looking in your direction but not fully at you. “You want the guest room we have upstairs or down?” Loud, brash, rude in some ways, but there was a weird sort of innocence about him. You simply shrugged. He nodded, grasping one of your bags suddenly, gesturing you to follow. “I’ll give you the downstairs one. Most of our rooms are on the second floor, so it’s a bit quieter down here, plus it stays cooler.” He led you past the entrance hall and back into the rest of the house. “Plus, it’s easier to sneak out from here, but you didn’t hear that from me. I’m guessing Lucifer gave you the whole rule spiel?”

You restrained the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah.”

He hissed in air through his teeth. “Sucks, man, are you sure you want to stay here?”

The pain around your wrists was still too prominent. Etched into your skin was a mark, a line of runes and symbols around your wrists. Who knew demons could give temporary pacts to other demons? Simeon ensured you a small fraction of his power, just in case you ran into trouble. But in exchange he had a hold on you, able to summon you to him whenever he needed you. It was your chain keeping you imprisoned here. There was no running. There was no hiding. “I didn’t have a choice.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

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newtonsheffield · 3 years ago

Note

Spicy Sunday 🌶🌶 Molly cheap thrills was such a surprise - loved it! The flirting 😍 Now we need to fill in the blanks of what happened when Kate brought him home

Absolutely LOVED Cheap Thrills!!!!! Your writing is constantly amazing, I get so excited every time you post! Would it be too much to request more from this universe, maybe some spice🌶? Wishing you a great upcoming week, love from Canada🇨🇦

so…. cheap thrills spicy sunday?

also klepto drunk molly is very unexpected yet welcome

So I hadn't planned to write this AU really. But I told @readandbemerry but my drunk antics and Cheap Thrills was born! A pair of glasses isn't even my weirdest trophy. I once came back from the bathroom wearing a crown that to this day neither my friends or myself can explain. I have no memory of it. It looks like the kind of thing Julius Caesar would wear.

Okay! Let's do some Spice in this Universe, but I also feel like... you already know how it goes. It was in Kate's drink order 😏😏😏😏😏

Anthony really wasn't sure how he ended up in the back of a taxi with Kate Sharma's lips nipping at his neck, her hand settled on his thigh. He hadn't been able to help himself last night, Someone had stumbled, on their way into the bar, and instinctively his hands had reached out to steady them and suddenly he'd been staring down at most probably the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders, her eyes wide with surprise, her smile apologetic as she mumbled Sorry.

"No worries, Hey-" But she was gone. And Anthony spent the next few hours staring at her laughing across the bar. He'd taken his glasses off to clean them, turned around and suddenly there was a much smaller woman staring up at him.

"Are you a good guy?"

Anthony had been startled but stuttered to answer "Yes. Yeah. Umm I think so. Maybe. No, Yes, I am."

She nodded. "And you're how old?"

"Twen-Twenty-nine?"

"And have you ever killed anybody?"

Benedict beside him had laughed bemusedly, "No!"

"And you have a stable job? You're not like... I don't know making t-shirts from the boot of your car or working on your garage band?"

"I'm a barrister?" He really had no idea what was happening but something was compelling him to answer.

"And your name is?"

"Anthony?"

The woman stared at him scrutinisingly for a moment before saying. "Give me your arm." His arm shot out of its own accord, "Well, Anthony," She was writing something on his arm in felt tip, "You should call Kate. Because you've been eye fucking her all night and she stole your glasses 5 minutes ago."

And then she was gone as well, and Anthony had just stared like a stunned mullet as she followed Kate from the bar, his hand already fumbling for his phone.

"You have to call that Girl." Benedict had said a little incredulously but Anthony was already dialling, his heart racing, it just seemed too good to be- Hi this is Kate Sharma, I can't come to the phone right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you. Maybe not too good to be true.

And then He'd seen her at the bar again, her black dress hugging her body, his glasses perched on top of her head like a trophy, even more beautiful than he'd remembered and it had taken everything in him not to march up to her and claim her lips right there. He wasn't really sure what to expect from a woman who engaged in petty theft when drunk and honestly, she seemed mortally embarrassed by it. But other than that, she was razor sharp. Her witty remarks as sharp as her cheekbones, standing toe to toe with him, drawing him closer with each new fact about herself, and before the bartender had even taken his money, Anthony had known he was going to ask her to dinner, and probably out again after that.

He really hadn't expected her to invite him home, hadn't been looking for it, but that wasn't going to stop him from standing and fumbling over himself as they left the restaurant. As he fumbled around on his phone ordering a taxi he could feel her eyes on him, staring curiously. He turned to face her as he hung up, nerves building in his stomach. Their eyes locked together, and jesus she was beautiful, maybe too beautiful in the bright city lights, tension building between them.

"Can I kiss you?" It swept from his chest a little unbidden.

She'd stepped closer to him, her hand on his chest, burning there. And then he dipped his head and their lips met, and it had never felt like this before. Her lips were moving against his, meeting them just like her banter had, perfectly in sync after just seconds, his hands moving to grip her waist, tugging her tight against him, her hands threading through his hair as the kiss deepened, his leg slipping between hers and-

"Oi!" A car horn sounded startling them apart. "If you get in mate, you might avoid getting arrested." The taxi driver was rolling his eyes, Kate ducking her head a little embarrassedly as Anthony pulled her inside, murmuring her address before her teeth started nipping at his neck, heat building between them.

By the time they reached her flat it had reached a slightly desperate stage, hands fumbling down the corridor, his chest pressing against her back as she fumbled with her keys, a low whine escaping her as he ducked his lips to her collarbone, sucking lightly against it, his teeth following, falling through the door as it swung open. Kate's hands were dragging him down a small corridor, her eyes locked on his.

"I don't um... do this that often, I'm sorry if this is... weird?" She started a little awkwardly, breaking the bubble forming around them, Anthony ducked his head cutting her off with another kiss.

"I have to say, this is definitely the weirdest way anyone's ever flirted with me, and I fucking loved it." Her eyes widened, staring back at him, tension thick in the air. And then she moved, her hands releasing his forearms, sliding to her own back, a zipper drawn down and Anthony felt his mouth drop open. staring. Frozen.

"Are you going to-?" Her fingers playing with the hem of his sweater, her voice soft pulling him from his reverie.

"Oh my god, Yes. Sorry, You're just really pretty and I got a little distracted." Anthony couldn't keep the grin off his face as he tugged his sweater over his head, obscuring her eye roll, tugging his jeans off seconds later.

She was staring at him now, her eyes glazing a little.

"So maybe your mum and I do share the same opinion." her hands were tight on his bicep tugging him back to her.

"I knew it."

And then his lips were on hers again, her exposed skin, setting his on fire as their teeth clashed, tongues tangling, her hips moving against his leg between hers.

"What do you want, Kate?"

She looked a little wild as she stared back at him, her voice rough, her lips tugging upwards in a catlike smile, "Mine's a slow screw against the wall."

A whine escaped his chest, his hands tugging on her legs, lifting them to wrap around her turning them, until she's pressed firmly against the wall, trapped against him. Her smile nearly too bright. His eyes questioning, her legs tightening around him. A gasp given together as their hips started moving together, push and pull, his forehead falling against hers, his spine shivering with the little noises she made as he moved against her, her hands tight in his hair. His glasses still perched on her head, forcing a slightly possessive growl from his chest. Heat building in his stomach slowly, simmering, a steady pace, the noice echoing through the room like his heartbeat Oh My god, Anthony, Anthony, Fuck Fuck, Anthony. Her eyes blown even wider as she shuddered against him, falling apart all around him But Anthony held her together, his arms tight around her as he pulled her from the wall, stumbling a little in the few steps, her breathing ragged in his ear as he laid back against the mattress, forcing him to straddle her.

Kate stared down at him, clearly a little surprised, his own voice rough,

"I like to see a woman on top." a small shrug escaping him.

A slightly breathless laugh bursting from her, as she started to rock against him. "We thank you for your feminist efforts."

Whatever witty response he was going to make died on his lips as she started moving in earnest, her fingernails digging into his chest, his hands tightening on her hips encouraging her against him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge, choked words falling from his lips. Holy Fuck, So beautiful, you're so incredible, Needy, greedy gasps, Again, Kate. Kate Kate Kate, Again Please. A soft cry breaking free from her chest, and he fell over the edge as well.

Kate collapsed again him, reaching up and plucking his glasses from the top of her head, her shoulders still heaving as she fought for breath, sliding his glasses back on his face. Her smile a little brilliant.

"I knew you'd look better with them on."

A breathless laugh from his own lips. "Next time you fuck me, I'll wear them for you, Catwoman."

This got way too long, I'm sorry

#anthony bridgerton: *sees kate* *immediately simps*#cheap thrills #spicy sunday🌶#kathony #anthony x kate #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #kate sharma #molly's asks and answers

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pars-ley · 4 years ago

Note

hi! i just came across your page the other day and i’ve read all of your drabbles and stories multiple times lol! so for my ask, i would love it if you did a college AU with popularjock!jk and have it be similar to the movie ‘A Cinderella Story’. some angst with smut and a happy ending if possible! oh and bestfriendjimin! as well :) hope this is not too much to request! ily

At the stroke of Midnight

Pairing: Jungkook x f reader

Summary: One popular boy + One 'uncool' girl + One school dance + One necklace left behind = A cinderella story.

Genre: Angst / Fluff / Smut / Cinderella au / A Cinderella story au / comedy / popular jock jungkook / best friend Jimin

Warnings: Suggestive language / sex

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Word Count: 4k

Beta reader: @casuallyimagining

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken me so long! I had no clue about this film, so writing this entailed some research and me watching the movie...twice haha. I really hope I did it justice for you and you enjoy it. Thank you for the request!

"So, what's prince charming saying now that's so much more important than your best friend?" Jimin pouts, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

You flush slightly. "He wants to meet." Grimacing at the words.

"And that's a problem, why?"

You bury your head in your hands. "Because I'm me and I'm certainly no one special, what if he's disappointed?" You groan, the dilemma churning your gut and making you feel like your breakfast could make a second appearance.

"Hey," Jimin scoots closer to you along the bench and throws an arm around your shoulder. "No best friend of mine gets away with speaking about herself like that. You are lovely, and if he thinks you're anything other than amazing, there's something wrong with him and he needs to be studied in a lab."

You laugh in spite of yourself, hearing Jimin’s words rattle around in your brain, knowing that you should not be this hard on yourself. You lean into his snug embrace.

You open up Tumblr and stare at the conversation between you and @gameoverguk. Your favourite gaming blog you’ve followed for ages, by chance seeing your gaming fan art and following you back was one thing, but conversing with him and finding out that he also attended your school was a completely different matter. Trying to solve the equation of who this mysterious creator might be is harder than you thought. And the way he converses with you, so open and honest and sweet, that had to narrow it down surely?

Something slams into your back, pain immediately in its wake. You and Jimin turn to see the popular boy of your university, Jungkook, gawking at you and his best friend Taehyung in hysterics.

Jimin looks down in the grass behind you at the offending apple and calls, “Hey, watch it guys.”

“Really sorry!” Jungkook calls over, a slight dusting of scarlet across his cheeks but looks like he’s also fighting a laugh. It burns you how someone so smug can still be so handsome, and you hate yourself for even thinking about him in any way other than the airhead jock that he is.

Taehyung jogs over and picks it up, still somewhat amused. “What, didn’t your crystal ball tell you that was gonna happen?” He says to you, loud enough for everyone in a mile radius to hear.

You cringe inwardly, attempting to fight your embarrassment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the top athletes in this university? And you can’t even catch an apple.” Jimin snarks in your defense.

His face drops as he looks like he’s about to take a step towards you both.

“Tae!” Jungkook calls, an air of command in his voice, breaking the tense air as he looks away from you ruefully. Walking off with Taehyung following, eating his apple and laughing between bites.

“Ignore them.” Jimin says sternly. “Speaking of, are you working tonight?”

Your face falls into an unamused expression, as if he even had to ask.

You were working so much you were almost taking residence at your step-mums 'magic shop', as everyone called it.

He smiles at you, his nose wrinkling, and you can’t help your face softening.

“Ok, ok, my bad. Can I swing by later? I need some more incense.”

You shrug, grabbing your bag and chucking it over your shoulder. “Sure. I’d be glad of the company to be honest.”

“Ooooh, maybe we could do a seance?”

You glare at him and head off to class causing his melodious laugh to ring out around you.

Sitting in the bleachers after class, with your sketchpad and pencil, the perfect view of the city line and the departing sun staring back at you, you sketch away. The pencil etching fast across your paper as you manage to block out the sounds of the team practicing and their bodies crashing against each other.

Long after you've lost yourself in your landscape, fingers grey and shiny from shading, you neglect to hear some of the team members leaving, climbing over the seats and headed in your direction. That is until your pad is snatched from underneath you as you frantically grapple for it, without success.

"You know, this isn't where the nerds hang out." Taehyung smirks at his two other buddies, clearly impressed with himself.

You let out a bored sigh. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize you owned the bleachers." Your words drip with sarcasm.

His face drops and a mean glare spreads across his features as he throws your drawing pad in the air. You watch helplessly as the pages flutter in the wind as it flies away and disappears under the stands.

"Have a nice night." He says quietly, an attempt to be intimidating, as him and his friends leave.

Your veins alight with fury, hands balled into fists at your sides. You wanted to stamp your feet like a petulant child. This isn't fair. Why you?

It's only then you notice Jeon Jungkook standing on the field watching. Embarrassment suddenly extinguishes your angry flames as he breaks your gaze first, walking off under the bleachers. You grab your bag to leave for work before you suffer any more humiliation.

As you reach the last step you yelp with surprise as Jungkook appears suddenly in your view, you manage to steel yourself before tumbling into him.

You stare at him, wishing he'd get on with it and tease you so you can go...but it doesn't come. Instead he hands you your sketchpad, gently dusting off the pages.

You take it, a hesitant, "thanks," ghosts from your lips.

"I'm sorry about him." He says quietly.

You shrug. "Not your fault, I guess."

Seconds tick by as you both stare awkwardly at each other, unsure what else could be said.

"You're pretty. I-I mean, it-it's pretty." He stammers, tapping the unfinished sketch in your book. "You're very talented."

Your cheeks flush an undignified fuchsia as you duck your head slightly, letting your hair hide you. "Thank you."

He offers you a weak smile before giving you a halfhearted wave and jogging off across the field, leaving you watching his back, perplexed at the exchange you've had.

You stare at your messages, every moment he can see you're online and not replying makes your cheeks flush crimson and makes your mind run frantic.

Meet me at the Happy Holidays dance.

Could you?

It’s the first holiday dance your university has put on--one you had no intention of going to, because you frankly didn't need the added teasing from the popular kids. It is a masquerade ball however, so no one had to know it was you, you could fall pleasantly under the radar.

Were you really considering this?

What did you have to lose? You can hide behind the comfort of your mask. If he discovers it's you, it's his problem if he doesn't like that, Jimin is absolutely right.

Ok. Where will I find you?

You press send and chuck your phone down, throwing your head in your pillow to scream. Did you actually just do that!? No taking it back now, it's out there.

When you hear your text tone sound you scramble quickly back to it.

By the old sundial outside. At 10.00?

You grin dorkishly at your phone, typing a quick reply.

Sure. See you then.

You call your number one speed dial, two rings in and Jimin's voice sounds.

"I was just going to call you, how strange. Listen, do you remember that time I-?"

"I'm in need of some urgent assistance. I just agreed to go to the holiday dance!"

He cackles excitedly on the other end. "I'll be right over!"

As you step out of Jimin's car you have to lift your ice blue dress up to avoid the floor...and tripping. How Jimin pulled this costume together in time, you'll never know, he's taking that secret to the grave.

You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and adjust your matching lace mask, making sure it's comfortable.

"Ok, go get him tiger." He roars, as he swipes a clawed hand in front of you.

You giggle at his silly antics and take a deep breath before giving him a final nod and heading into the dance.

From the moment you walk in, you want to go home. This is a bad idea. He won't be interested when he finds out it's really you.

You have no time to continue your anguished thoughts as you get swept up in the crowd, fighting your way through to grab a drink. Standing to the side and surveying everyone's costumes, noticing a lot of dark or bright colour choices, you being one of the only people in a pale colour, making you stand out more. Something you were definitely hoping to avoid.

A few songs later and the clock in the hall catches your eye, noticing you had fifteen minutes until you meet your mystery man.

You head outside, footsteps echoing along the cobbled floor, and see that the outside is empty save for a few smoking and talking.

You get to the large, metal sundial and wait. Stomach churning from the butterflies that swarm wildly inside.

"Blue hour artist?" You hear your Tumblr tag spoken behind you and freeze.

You're about to meet him, come face to face with the person who understands you more than anyone, who opens up to you in ways most people wouldn't and who's creativity knows no bounds.

You turn slowly, not knowing who to expect but definitely not who you're faced with.

"Jeon Jungkook!? You're 'game over guk'?" You ask, your mouth popped open in shock.

He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "that's not fair, you're wearing a mask. How will I know who you are?"

You stare at him, trying to find words to answer his question, but the fact that it's him stood before you blows you away.

How could this be? The person you've been talking to online is the complete opposite to Jungkook and yet, here he is, one and the same.

"You'll h-have to guess." You try to get yourself together.

His mouth stretches into a toothy smile. "Ok, how about we play '21 questions' to help me guess?"

You nod, playing with your fingernails out of nerves.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asks, looking over at one of the benches.

"Um, no, I'd rather walk, if you don't mind?"

"Oh, sure." He agrees eagerly and you head off down the pathway around the building.

A few awkward side glances between the two of you and he finally asks, "Do we have any classes together?"

"No."

"Ok, narrows it down slightly."

You take this opportunity to look at what he's wearing and he's every part the Prince charming. In a white satin shirt, with light blue trousers and a one shoulder half capelet to match, complete with silver, trim detail. Surprisingly similar to your choice of dress, what a strange coincidence.

"You take art I assume?" He asks, into the comfortable silence.

You nod. "That's an obvious one." You refer to your Tumblr page full of your fan art and projects.

He smiles bashfully and your stomach flips at the sight, feeling like a true-life Disney princess with heart eyes and birds singing above your head.

"I don't know many girls in art." He admits,

"Ok, what about outside uni, do you go to any popular hangouts?"

Your cheeks flush, knowing you're admitting how dorky and uncool you are. "Nope."

"Ok, harder than I thought." He laughs, revealing his perfect teeth again. "Do you have a job?"

Nodding again, you play with the hem of your lace sleeve, channeling your nerves into the action.

As you're about to answer, your heel gets stuck in between the paving stone, causing you to buckle. Panic strikes you. You cannot fall over and embarrass yourself! Not when finding out who you are will be embarrassing enough. Luckily, you steady yourself against a nearby lamppost before falling on your face but at the cost of leaving your shoe stuck in the ground.

You tuck your leg up under your dress, steadying yourself against the street light, directly underneath the assaulting brightness, illuminating you like a spotlight.

Jungkook rushes over to your lonesome blue stiletto and retrieves it before crouching on one knee in front of you.

You stare at him, eyes wide and alarmed by his sudden closeness as he holds out your shoe in the most sincere way.

You bring your foot down and arch it back into its rightful holster. As you do, his fingertips graze your ankle, sending a flush of heat cascading up your body and neck, stopping only at your hairline.

He lingers there, looking up at you with huge doe eyes, but with a severe intensity you've never noticed from him before.

His fingers skate up your leg slightly as he rises, sending a delicious shiver through you. His fingers tips hint at your hand, you yearn to reach out and hold it, as he stands mere centimeters away from you. His intoxicating scent swirling around you like your own personal hurricane, taking your composed state and tearing through it, leaving it whimpering weakly on the ground. His face is too close to yours and yet not close enough. You feel feverish from his proximity and yet you need him closer to sate your heat.

Your breast vibrates from the aggressive pounding of your heart. Having him here on his knees in front of you, something not even acceptable in your wildest dreams and yet, here he is.

The person you've gotten to know so well, such a contrast to the person you've seen around campus. But then again, he seems to like the person he's gotten to know too, maybe he won't be as disappointed when he realises who you are? Maybe you can kid yourself into thinking that.

A chiming sounds in the distance, barely there and yet it creeps further into your subconscious.

"Your phone is ringing." He whispers, his breath tickling your face, as his eyes still blaze into yours.

'My phone. My phone? Oh, my phone!' Your muddled thoughts clear themselves enough for you to understand his words. You pull it out of your little silver handbag and see Jimin's number on screen.

"Hello?" You ask, staring dreamily at Jungkook who is rooted firmly in his spot.

"Ok, I apologise if you're throat-deep around prince charming’s dick but I really need to make it home before midnight so my dad doesn't turn me into a pumpkin...and by that I mean, pounded, pulped and pressed into pumpkin pie."

You snap out of it suddenly, realising Jimin's words and not wanting him to get in trouble because of you. "Of course. I'm coming, right now."

Jungkook's eyes flit back to reality with a deep frown. His hand clasps yours as you hang up and tuck your phone back into your bag. Your legs, already moving towards the front entrance where he would be waiting.

"Wait," Jungkook's pleading pierces right into your chest, feeling your resolve bubble up to the surface, enticing you to stay and see where the night takes you. But you don't.

"I can't, I have to go." You say, gently slipping your hand from his and jogging elegantly to the front parking lot.

When you see Jimin's dads silver Rolls Royce, you're suddenly eager to get in and share your news.

"So...did you meet him!?" An excited Jimin shakes your arm as you close the door behind you.

"Yes. You will never guess who he is." You fasten your belt and Jimin pulls off quickly, both of you wincing as he narrowly misses a barrier post on the way out of the campus.

"Who?"

You smile to yourself, heart fit to burst. "Jeon Jungkook."

Jimin's foot taps on the brakes, lurching you forward.

"I'm sorry. What?" He turns to you, eyes wider than you've ever seen them. "As in, popular boy, sex god Jungkook?"

You scoff. "Who told you he was a sex god?"

"I'm making assumptions. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." He grins as he elbows you in the ribs and sets off driving you home, while excitement rapidly blooms inside you.

You dropped your necklace.

You read the words over and over, unsure what your response should be. You needed that necklace. The simple silver chain holding the tiny teardrop pearl. It was all you had left of your dad. When he died, your step-mother sold most of his things, including gifts he bought for you. This was your last, most cherished item. The only reason you were allowed to keep it is that you were wearing it at the time and you haven't taken it off since. Losing it had your chest aching. You stared at Jungkook's last message until sleep over took you.

Monday morning. Eyes gritty and burning, you wake to the sea of sleep trying to entice you back to its darkening depths but you fight your fluttering eyelids and get ready for a new day.

How are you going to look at Jungkook now? You should tell him who you are. Yes, you'll do that and get your necklace back and it'll be happily ever after.

Only it won't.

From your experience happily ever after doesn't happen for most people, even accomplished, brilliant, beautiful people. You're entirely average and ordinary, why would it happen for you?

By the time you get to campus, your manic mind has been changed numerous times. You decide to wait until you see him, which you spend every moment of your arrival scanning the faces that pass you.

"Hey, hey, Jelly Bean. Looking for me?" Jimin's cheerful face comes into full view, distracting you.

He's clearly unimpressed with whatever expression you're portraying currently, as he pouts and turns to the sea of faces. "Clearly, I no longer matter, now you've got big dick Jungkook."

You hush him loudly, looking around to ensure there were no listening ears. "Firstly, I'm begging you, stop talking about his dick and secondly, stop being stupid."

He laughs at your stressed rant. "Ok, ok, jeez. Is he meeting you this morning?"

Your body tenses, knowing, already hearing the lecture he's about to scold you with.

"You didn't tell him, did you? He still has no idea it's you!?" He sighs, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, typical Jimin fashion. "I swear to god...If you don't tell him, I will."

Your head snaps over to him as you walk side by side into the building, glaring menacingly in his direction. "You wouldn't dare."

He shrugs. "Try me, scaredy cat."

You huff and scrub at your tired eyes. "Let me just get through my classes then we shall discuss this."

He laughs as he tussles your hair and heads off in the opposite direction.

Your day passes fairly quickly, even though your struggle to stay awake during lectures only grows.

You do not see Jungkook, which is not unusual as you're not even in the same wings of the building most of the time.

Jimin's frantic waving has you puzzled as a deep frown creases your brow as you walk towards him, his jumping and pointing most unusual. It's only when you see a set of hands directly in front of you and feel your necklace land on your chest as it's draped across your collar bones, that you stop in your tracks.

Those hands, warm at the back of your neck and a mouth next to your ear saying, "I told you I'd look after it and return it." Unmistakably Jungkook's voice whispers in your ear making you quiver.

When his hands are gone you look down and find relief washing over you with the familiar feel of your necklace, having felt bare and empty without it.

"Why didn't you reply to my messages?" He asks, stepping in front of you with a big bunny smile.

Wide eyed with shock, your mouth gapes open with the slow realization that he is, in fact, talking to you. "How-how did you…" Words fail you as you frantically think of any way you might have let slip your identity but coming up empty.

"How did I know it was you?" He asks, mouth pulled on one side in a smile. "When you dropped your necklace as you left the dance, I recognized it instantly. "

"Wh-what?" You squeak out. You attempt to swallow your confusion enough to form a coherent sentence. "On what planet would someone like you notice anything about someone like me."

A look of hurt flashes across his face, almost as if you'd slapped him as he takes a step towards you, a hair's width away now. "How could I not notice you? You're beautiful and smart, you don't follow the crowd and you're kind to everyone, I've noticed everything the last two years. I've just never spoken to you properly because….well...what do I have to offer someone like you, with endless talents and interests, a charming personality to boot and just when I think that's all there is, I discover something else about you. I'm just the school jock, popularity gets me opportunities, I don't have to work hard for anything...I feel...inferior to you. Worthless."

Your heart aches, hearing the words you feel escaping his mouth. How could that be possible? How on earth could he be so utterly mistaken, so completely wrong about himself?

"But gameoverguk is nothing like that person you're describing. If that's truly who you are?" You question quietly.

He nods, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to him.

"Hi, I'm Jeon Jungkook, I'm a gamer geek, I'm good at sports, I enjoy bike rides on the weekend and finding new food spots and I'd really like to take you out sometime...if you'll let me."

You feel your lips stretch into an undeniable grin. "Nice to finally meet you Jungkook. I'd love to."

As you aim the plastic machine gun, keeping it steady in your armpit and pointed towards the screen, you and Jungkook race through the game, taking down your enemies at every chance. When your team name, "Blue Hour Gamer" flashes in neon letters on screen as the winners, your hollering and hooting fill the arcade.

You don't even care that people are watching, not when you jump up and high five each other or when that high five turns into a hug, or when that hug very quickly turns into a kiss. You don't care.

You pull away quickly, embarrassment finding its way to dust your cheeks scarlet. Until you feel his hand press your lower back to him, your bodies crushing together and moving in perfect sync, making their own rhythm and inviting you to sing with it.

Heat blazes inside you like a wildfire, capturing everything else in its path and turning into thoughtless ash in the wind. Nothing else mattered, just him, his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, caressing so gently and yet setting your skin aflame.

Before you knew it, you were at his small, studio apartment, realising you had no clue he lived alone but thankful for that just the same.

When your back finds the bed, you sink into it, disappearing into a cloud of euphoria as he roams your body, slow and meaningful. Every touch makes you feel things you never have before, and every movement brings you closer to the edge of the precipice.

The way his mouth feels on you as he explores your body sends sparks of electricity racing through you. The way he feels inside you with each perfect, controlled movement lights you up like the sunrise after dark, warming you with its rays as you stare off the cliff edge and brace yourself for the impact. His hand caresses your cheek as he looks deeply into your eyes, something so sweet and pure in the action that your chest swells with emotion. His forehead touches yours as he moves in perfect time with your pounding heart. Suddenly you're falling, everything going past in a rush before crashing onto a sea of ecstasy, writhing and moaning until your climax subsides and his has joined in unison.

A tender kiss on your head, his arm winding around you, pulling you to him and encasing you in the perfect safety net is enough. Maybe he'll be your happily ever after, after all.

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smoochkooks · 4 years ago

Text

—chapter one: the beginning of an end

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.4k words

summary: loving jeon jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

previous || next

You’re positive your favourite sound in the whole world is the rhythmic, repetitive sound of your fingers tapping on the keyboard.

Everyone has a different approach when it comes to coping with stress and anxiety. Some people drink away their unwanted emotions, some drown themselves in work, some watch yet another, mediocre Netflix show. But your solution, your little panacea has always been writing.

You’re not the best when it comes to expressing your true feelings. You can struggle with saying ‘I love you’ to your mother and then write a long, affectionate letter for her birthday that makes her eyes turn glossy. You may stutter and tumble on your own words while trying to order coffee and then complete academic essays with ease.

Whenever you feel like you’re overwhelmed, boiled up with mixed emotions, you do exactly what your school counselor told you many years ago: you let it out. She never mentioned any specifics, simply encouraging you to find your own way. And that’s exactly what you did – you picked it up yourself. First, it was writing a diary. No less than two weeks into it, you got bored. Turns out describing in detail every single mundane day of your life was never your forté. You threw away your old notebook, bought a new one and decided to write there whenever you felt like you really wanted to, not out of obligation.

And you continue to do so, these days you opt for a use of modern technology often. You open your laptop and pour your feelings onto a digital sheet of paper. It’s cathartic, in a way. Getting rid of what you feel like is weighing you down.

Jungkook however, your dearest best friend, has always been on the other side of the spectrum. Loud, obnoxious, a life and soul of the party who happened to miraculously befriend the most quiet introvert in class. Sometimes you still wonder how your friendship has managed to survive almost twenty years. You’re two polar opposites. Fire and water. Storm and chilly breeze. A confession screamed in the middle of the night and handwritten love letter.

You’re a dichotomy. Made of the same atoms, pulling in and pulling away. And if the phrase ‘opposites attract’ held any significance, maybe you would’ve ended up together. But in your case, it’s yet another platitude. Something that seems to work out only in books and movies. Because, if that was true, he would never fell in love with a female version of him, just graced with a sprinkle of pure sweetenes Jungkook sometimes lacks.

Soojin is everything you will never be. Polite, outgoing, sociable and so likeable you hate yourself for despising her. Truthfully, there’s nothing bad you could say about her. No wonder he’s fallen head over heels for her, not you.

What’s there to love about you, if you willing chose to pin for a boy that’s so out of your league? It’s actually hilarious to even dream about him returning your feelings.

You stare at the screen with half-lidded eyes. The clock reads quarter past midnight, letters start to blur into nothingness. Yet another chapter of your miserable life is completed as you save the document and slam your laptop shut. You don’t bother to shower or take off your clothes. Sleepiness hits you right when you close your eyes.

You dream of wedding halls and never spoken love confessions.

You read once on Twitter that being an adult means checking your e-mail as a part of your morning social media routine and since then, you haven’t quite related to anything more in your life.

At the very top of your inbox there’s yet another e-mail from your Creative Writing proffesor, Kim Namjoon. He’s a very stubborn man, you decide, as you scroll through the contents of his message. He still wants you to consider what he told you a few days ago after class, it seems.

“Miss ___? Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure.” you replied and awkwardly walked up to his podium.

You might have been madly (and miserablely) in love with your best friend, but Kim Namjoon has never failed to make you feel like a silly teenager with a crush on her older teacher. To say Kim Namjoon was intimidating was an misunderstanding. His presence was thoroughly electrifying. You remembered a very disappointed sigh the girl sitting next you let out when she noticed a ring on his right hand. You couldn’t judge her. His wife had scored probably the finest man on this damn planet.

“I read your latest assignment and I must say, your novelette was outstanding as always. Dare I say the best among others,” Namjoon said. You bowed your head in acknowledgement, praying he wouldn’t notice your rose-colored cheeks. “Regarding that, I actually have a proposition for you.”

At that, your eyes widened. “What kind of proposition, sir?” you asked.

He picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to you. It was a flyer, you realised, and read it through quickly. VARIETÉ Publishing was organising an annual contest for young poets, which you had heard about before. Your English Literature proffesor mentioned it during her lecture a week ago. However, poetry had never been your strong suit. As much as you enjoyed reading it, you weren’t really fond of creating your own poems. So why did Kim Namjoon decide to tell you about this all of a sudden?

“I know what you might be thinking right now, but I’m not actually encouraging you to take part in this competition,” As he smiled, two dimples appeared on each side of his mouth. “Do you know anything about VARIETÉ Publishing?”

Slightly confused, you gave him a nod. “It’s one if the biggest publishing companies in the country.”

“That’s very much true,” Namjoon agreed. “VARIETÉ's vice-chairman, Lee Jongi, is actually my old friend. We used to study together here, at this university. When I chose a teaching career, he got a job in a foreign publishing company, climbed up the ladder until the very top and now he’s vice-chairman and I’m a simple college professor,” He chuckled. You were too stunned to form a coherent response let alone laugh along with him. Lee Jongi and Kim Namjoon being buddies? It was a small world, after all. “Jongi has always been very fond of young, aspiring writers. When I discover a student with huge potential, I send him their works. If he finds them interesting enough, he might even take a risk and propose a publishing deal. This doesn’t happen quite often, but I want you to know that you have a pretty big chance to impress him.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed because holy fucking shit, did he just say he can help you publish your first book?

“I don’t know what to say, sir. I’m shocked.” you responded truthfully. You had heard people complimenting your skills before but this was extraordinary. “Let me just process all of this: you know personally VARIETÉ'S vice-chairman and you want to show him my works?” Even said out loud, it still sounded surreal to you.

“Correct. But of course, I won’t do anything without your consent.” Namjoon said. “That novelette you sent me recently was amazing. I’d love to show it to Lee Jongi one day.”

The task was to incorporate a hidden, symbolic message into a story. You decided to use your favorite flowers, magnolias, and its meaning. They represent eternity, because once they bloom they will continue to bloom for a long time. In your story, a girl gave her best friend magnolia's seeds, wishing her love for him to be everlasting. A day later, she received a pack of seeds from the boy as well. She happily planted them in her garden and when they bloomed, she discovered they were yellow tulips. A symbol of love that will never be reciprocated.

“You make people feel things with your words, ___, and that’s a very rare gift,” You heard Namjoon add. “Promise me you’ll consider my proposition.”

There was thousand thoughts per hour running in your head, but you gave him a curt nod. “I’ll think about it.”

As you’re staring now at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, you think about the girl whose only dream was to be loved by her best friend. Maybe it’s finally time for you to move on. Bury the past and plant a seed of new life. Because, loving Jeon Jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

With shaky hands, you start writing a response to your proffesor.

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #an ode to a broken heart

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lousdaughter · 2 years ago

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you only make it to my journal because i refuse to think about you//

i. nostalgia is the pink ribbon you gave me and your little jokes and stifled laughs is all i hear when i see pink ribbons. and wonder; do you like how your nose looks now? did your dad win that court dispute? i hope he did.

ii. my favorite song has your name in it and goes on to repeat it many more times. everyone says their backdoor would be open for those they lost but i'll stay at my front door, waiting for you at the porch if you ever want to come back. do you remember me? do you want to remember me?

iii. happiness is my best friend rambling about her favorite paintings but some days it's you talking about that forever we failed at. i watch your favorite movies and pretend to not like you anymore but it's one of those things i spectacularly fail at.

iv. messages you acknowledge no more and the weight of a keychain with three names carved on it feels heavier than usual. our inside jokes don't see the light of the day, do they? still getting your heart crushed by that boy?

v. that boat of our friendship sank, got lost among many in the raging storm but reached the shore; as strangers. another dear smile turned into an alien one.

vii. we're in school. you're telling me how a february pisces and a march pisces are different. i know it's bullshit but i nod. trying to look like i understood so you wouldn't have to explain again.

viii. i keep your gifts on the top shelf but they end up tumbling down on my head along with the box of shells. you share your birthday with my father. i went to that mall with my friends and tried not to think how we took the most embarrassing pictures. i laugh bitterly because as much as our names were taken together even our pictures are lost. you're everywhere and still nowhere.

ix. your number is still saved in my mother's phone. she asks me about you and i tell her how you were a year ago.

x. if i were to turn a page for the times you weren't present, i'll go for a book. a character that's neither completely in nor out. i don't want to write about you. you make it difficult not to.

#dark academia #chaotic academia #spilled thoughts #dead poets society #moon #mooncore #mooniac #selenophiles #tumblr #writeblr #poetry #original poetry

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maybege · 3 years ago

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Safe And Warm - Part 1

Summary: Din convinces Paz to find the long lost Princess and bring her to her family in Coruscant. What Paz did not expect was her very beautiful companion and the feelings she would wake in him. (Anastasia AU)

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.1k | Rating: T

Warnings: one (1) tense moment of threatened violence, otherwise Disney-level fluff, also Mandalorians do not wear helmets in this AU

FINALLY! When I start writing this in November of last year I certainly did not expect it to take this long until I would publish it but the writing gods had other things in mind. This is a loose Anastasia AU with a bit of a mixture of like 1920’s fashion/aesthetics set in the Star Wars Universe. It was a lot of fun to write and – in my mind – is like a 90-minute fun Disney movie with romance sprinkled in.

Because there will be two parts of The One posted next week, the second (and final) part of this story will be posted on July 23. Always, feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoy it!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Paz was sure that Din had lost his mind.

To be fair, he had thought that more than once but this time he was convinced that it had finally happened. Din Djarin had lost his stars forsaken mind.

But, as always, Din did not seem to be deteriorated by his friend’s disapproval.

“Valoria has been destroyed a long time ago now,” Paz said, “And everyone on it has been destroyed with it.”

“Yes, except maybe what if it hasn’t?”

Paz scoffed, “I very much doubt that.”

His eyes wandered around the cantina they were sitting in. The bar was packed by what seemed to be the crews of the trade ships, gambling and laughing at their tables, and over on the other side of the glittering gown of the singer caught his eye. Stars, he just wanted one calm evening …

“Paz,” Din grabbed him by the upper arm, “We all know the remaining Valars are Coruscant royalty so to speak and them setting out a price for the lost princess? That must mean she is out there somewhere. And wewill be the ones to bring her home.”

Paz did not say anything. He wanted nothing more than another drink and maybe watch a good fighting match. Stars, maybe even participatein a good fighting match.

But Din did not give up. He never did.

“Think of the money, Paz,” he implored, “That would be more than enough to build a new classroom in the covert and get you one of those fancy new blasters the Armourer has been eyeing – and that would only be with half your share.”

Paz hesitated.

They did need a new classroom. Or at least some improvements on the current one. Last week, some bricks had tumbled down and it had been pure luck that none of the foundlings had been there.

He would have never been able to forgive himself if something had happened to one of his students.

He sighed in defeat, his shoulders dropping and he leant back in his chair. “How do you plan on finding – what’s her name again Thama-something?”

“Thalassa,” Din corrected him with a smug grin on his face. He had probably realized by now that he had captured Paz’s interest. Smug bastard.

“And you’ll be glad to know that I have found her already.”

“Found her?” Paz was stunned, “I am impressed, vod. You never seemed like the planning type.”

Din ignored his jab and set out the map, the galaxy lighting up between them. “A reliable source told me we can find her here,” he pointed to the very end of the map, symbolizing the edge of the Outer Rim, “All we need to do is get her from here to here,” he drew an imaginary line all the way to Coruscant, “Without having anything happen to her.”

“Seems easy enough,” Paz commented, brows furrowing, “So why do you need me for it?”

“There might or might not be a price on her head … from the Imps,” Din admitted.

He knew there had to be a problem somewhere.

“Do you have any idea how many things can go wrong? This is asking for trouble Din,” Paz cursed, clearly unhappy with that tidbit of information, “No credits in the whole wide galaxy would make this worth it. I have no desire to have a run-in with the Imps any time soon.”

“Vod, please,” Din said, “I – kriff, I need the money to get stuff for the kid,” Paz's eyes fell to the little pod in which the green child – his honorary nephew – was sleeping, “I need him safe, alright? And I need your help, brother, please.”

“Alright,” Paz murmured, nodding, “But I already know this will go wrong.”

Din’s ‘hot tip’ led them to a planet on the Outer Rim. The very edge of it, to be exact.

They had gotten a ride on a friend’s ship much to Paz’s amusement. Din begrudgingly calling Boba Fett of all people for help all the way from Tatooine was the highlight of his week – month, even.

The Razor Crest was hopelessly broken down and Paz was sure that Din would use significant amounts of his share to get the ship and his home back on track.

They had left Grogu with the covert under the watchful eye of the Armourer, knowing that the mission would be too dangerous and too risky to take him along. That was the moment Paz knew that Din was serious about all of this. For his vod to leave his kid somewhere that was not with him – that was a big step.

A step which both of them seemed to regret as they landed on the planet in question. It was muddy and green and brownish, a wholly unappealing colour palette. The sky was dark or … well, not dark. But it seemed to be a permanent twilight no matter what time it was and with the small drizzle, the rain seemed to paint the whole world a constant grey.

The only homes that littered the streets – or rather trampled paths – were small homes, only distinguishable from the grey horizon by the small fires that lit up their windows.

Paz had never been so sure that there would never be a princess here. But maybe that was exactly what made this the perfect hiding spot.

And so, he hoisted his bag higher on his bag as they trudged through village after village in search for whatever sign Din deemed to be worthy to stop for. As the rain lessened, the sky lightened up a little but they were still wet to the bones and Paz hated it.

After hours of walking, Din finally stopped in front of a small hut.

Children were playing in the space between the houses and the few adults that seemed to be working outside eyed the newcomers suspiciously. Paz’s hand felt the blaster on his hip, a strange feeling overcoming him at being watched.

“I don’t like this, vod,” he murmured, “I really don’t.”

Din hummed in agreement before knocking on the door.

A few moments passed and then an elderly man opened. Both his eyes and his hair were grey, he seemed … worn. Tired and worn. But when he spotted them, and his eyes flew immediately to the weapons on their hips, he tensed. And so did Paz.

Surely this was not the best first impression they could make.

Then again, he was impatient to get away from here.

“I know why you are here,” the man said, his eyes lighting up in excitement as he motioned for them to come inside.

Paz was confused by this but he did not complain. The man did not seem to have any weapons on him and, as surprising as it was, he seemed genuine.

The house they were led into was simple. The downstairs consisted of a single room, serving as both the kitchen and the living room, and a set of stairs led to what Paz assumed to be the bedrooms.

A hearty smell wafted through the air and he spotted a pot hanging over the fire. His stomach growled.

“You are here to bring her home, aren’t you?” the man asked excitedly and both he and Din tilted their heads questioningly, making no secret of the fact that they were surprised by his warm welcome.

“We have been waiting for years but you see,” the man explained, gesturing to the outside, “there is no way to send reliable messages out there without them being able to be transferred.”

A woman came through a backdoor, clearly his spouse. She wore an apron and a suspicious look on her face as she spotted the two intruders. But even then, she did not acknowledge them. Instead, she walked over to the steaming pot of soup and set it on the table in the middle of the room.

Paz heard Din’s stomach grumbling and grinned.

“They are here to bring Thalassa home, darling,” the man explained, looking almost relieved and Paz furrowed his brows. He did not put it past the stranger to genuinely be happy for the girl to get back to her family but somehow, he had the feeling that the man’s happiness had a different reason.

“Where can we find her?” Din asked gruffly, shifting his weight on the other foot, “We want to get going as soon as possible.”

“Why should I tell you where she is?” the woman spat, “I cared for her like she was my own, what makes you think I would so easily give her away?”

“Because she deserves to be reunited with her family,” Din stated drily, “And her family wants to see her. They have waited a long time for this to happen.”

Paz held onto himself to not roll his eyes. Din could always be so dramatic if he wanted to and he hoped that it would work. He just wanted to get on with it.

The spouses looked at each other for a long moment and Paz could tell that they were having a conversation without words.

“Alright,” the woman finally relented, before adding, “But I do have one condition.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to take my niece with you. She – she has been stuck on this planet for far longer than she needed to. She is a good girl, she deserves a chance in the big worlds.”

Paz could feel how tense Din was. His first instinct was to disagree. They would have trouble smuggling one princess across the galaxy but a princess and another random stranger? Besides, who knew how this niece would hinder them on their quest to keep the princess safe?

No, that really was a ridiculous idea.

But Din was better at lying than he was and so he agreed with a reluctant nod. Nothing would speak against just taking the princess with them once they found her, right?

“Where is she then?”

“Oh, they’re just outside, working in the gardens,” the older woman says, wiping her hands on her apron, “You can tell them dinner is ready. You’re invited to stay as well, you won’t be able to walk back to your ship in that darkness.”

Both of them nodded and Paz was happy to set down his bag at the door that led outside. He kept his blaster on his hip though and he knew that Din had done the same. His thoughts were rushing with how quickly they could get Thalassa out of here and how long they would have before any of the Imps had an inkling of where she was.

But as he stepped down the stairs all thoughts left his head because … because …

There you were.

Like the lady had said, you were working in the gardens. You were kneeling on the muddy ground, your hands full of wet earth as you cleaned the plants of any weeds. Your companion was next to you, sitting on a small chair and talking to you. She must have said something funny because you threw your head back and laughed.

You – stars, you were beautiful.

How could people not see a princess when they saw you?

Noticing the newcomers, you raised your head and your eyes grew wide as you saw the two big men walk determinedly towards you. You hurried to stand up, wiping your hands clean on an apron. “How can we help you?” you asked carefully.

Paz did not slow his steps. He felt how flushed he was, even the tips of his ears felt hot as he walked towards you. His chest was oddly warm and tight as he looked at you, your eyes big and your mouth opening with another question.

“Your Majesty,” he murmured, lifting your hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it. You had wiped them clean on the fabric of your skirt and he felt how soft it was and he heard you gasp and oh stars how would he ever be able to forget this very moment.

The other woman seemed to be more excited rather than surprised and he heard her talking to Din in a high-pitched voice. But what did he care about that woman’s niece when you were there right in front of him?

“Oh I – I’m not,” you said, clearly embarrassed. You held your hand to your chest, the one he had kissed and Paz frowned. Shame filled him when he realised that he had made you feel uncomfortable but then he was also confused by your words. What did you mean?

“If anyone’s a Majesty, that would be me,”the woman behind him said, “It’s been time I would think.”

“We’re here to get you back to your family, Your Majesty,” Din said, throwing an amused look to Paz who was still standing in front of you. He looked from the other woman to you and back again. She – she was the princess? And you were the niece?

“We will start our journey to Coruscant tomorrow,” Din announced, “We got a ticket on a freighter ship booked. It will be a long and dangerous journey, princess, but you will see your family again soon.”

“Well, I should hope so,” Thalassa replied, wholly unimpressed, “It’s been years, I almost thought I’d never leave this forsaken place. Oh, is that dinner I smell?”

The princess walked off without another word, leaving the basket and little chair behind as well as Din and Paz looking at each other and realizing that keeping her safe might not be the issue – enduring her might cost them their last nerves.

Paz watched as you kneeled down again quickly putting some of the vegetables in the basket.

With the basket in your hands, you stood up again, looking at Paz for a long while. He felt how this warm feeling came back and nervously shifted on his feet. He could not figure out what it was about you but he – he wanted more. Wanted you more.

You took a deep breath, seemingly gathering your courage for something, and he resisted the urge to take your hand.

“When, uh, when you said you would go to Coruscant did you mean … me too?” you asked quietly and the small hope in your eyes made his heart clench.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Din opening his mouth. He knew that look on his face, knew that Din would reject your request just like they had planned when your aunt had first voiced that condition. Din would tell you that they would leave only with the princess in tow. And he was right, probably. Fewer people meant less danger.

But you did not look at Din.

You looked at him with a small smile on your lips as if you did not allow yourself to be hopeful yet but as if you wanted to be. Wanted to be hopeful. Wanted to be excited. Wanted to be on this journey.

He wanted to change that.

“Yes,” he said, already feeling Din’s eyes on him. But when you looked at him like that there was no way he could say no, “Yes, you will come with us too, if you’d like, of course.”

To no one’s surprise (and Paz’s excitement), you wanted to come along.

Already the preparations for the trip were eating at their nerves. Thalassa was more than annoyed that she was only allowed to take one bag with her. But Din was adamant and surprisingly patient with the demanding princess and soon she had reduced her luggage to only the essential items. It was not like she would need her muddy dresses in the high society of Coruscant.

Paz felt like he could not wait until the trip was over.

The next morning, they were able to borrow speeders from the family which would take them to the capital of the mud planet. From there, they would take one of the big cruiser ships to Naboo.

It was the easiest method to fall under the radar – by blending in with the large crowds that flocked to the core worlds. Paz had worn his best suit for that exact purpose.

The only downside was that the Imps were slowly becoming aware of that loophole and more and more of them infiltrated the standard ways of travelling.

Already in the terminal did Paz spot a few suspicious-looking people. They were most likely bounty hunters but he was not too worried. The ship they were boarding was enormous and so was the number of passengers. The odds of them crossing paths were very slim and so he and Din decided to not change their plans at the last minute.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be intimidated if not scared. Din has assigned you the space on Paz’s speeder and with your arms wrapped around his middle, you had driven hours on end until you had reached the spaceport. He had liked the proximity, the way you had pressed your cheek against his back and how your arms had sometimes tightened around him.

He could very well get used to it.

Now, even as you were in the terminal, ready to board, you stuck to his side. It flustered and pleased him to have you so close that your arm was brushing against his constantly. But he was also relieved to have you this close because everywhere he looked, strangers were walking towards the gates and he did not want to lose you in this chaos.

And so, he made it a point to make himself seem bigger, pushing out his chest and straightening his posture to make sure that none of the other passengers would stray too close.

You sent him a grateful smile.

A few rows before you, he could hear Thalassa’s high-pitched voice complaining about one thing or another and soon he recognized Din’s dark hair in the masses. He wondered if his brother in arms was even listing to her. Her voice was shrill and she had not stopped talking for one moment since leaving the house this morning so Paz found it hard to imagine that Din could just tune it out but he hoped for his sake that he could.

He did not want to imagine the next few days on the ship.

“Do you have the tickets?” you asked quietly beside him, pulling him out of his thoughts. Paz nodded and rummaged in the inside pocket of his jacket. He brought out two data chips, handing you one.

“Stick close,” he advised you, “It can get a little chaotic, getting through the gates.”

With big eyes, you nodded. He watched how you took a deep breath and then you were separated from him, being pushed towards another gate. There was a sea of people trying to get through the electronic controls and Paz did not like this suffocating feeling that came over him

He pushed the chip in and the gate opened with a beep before he was swept up again by the masses making their way into the hull of the ship. But there was something – or rather someone – missing.

Paz turned around, trying to spot you. When he did not see you, he grew panicked. He could care less what happened to Thalassa but you– he wanted to make sure you were safe.

Hoping that it would help, he shouted your name over the chatter of the other passengers. He turned around, fighting his way back to the gates, pushing against people and getting insulted in more languages than he understood.

A soft hand grabbed his and he froze. He whipped his head around and there you were, looking clearly a bit overwhelmed but smiling at him. He breathed a sigh of relief, his shoulders dropping. Out of instinct, he grasped your hand tighter, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded with a smile.

Neither of you let go of each other’s hand.

Hours later, when the ship finally started taking off, you were settled in the cantina.

The ship had dorms and suites and common rooms, more than anyone could ever count, but Din and Paz had decided that it would be safer for the time being to be in the cantina before figuring out any sleeping arrangements.

“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have gotten a suite,” Thalassa hissed, looking around her with disdain. It was clear that she did not appreciate being around ‘commoners’ as she had called them before and Paz wondered how she had lived her life in poverty and still ended up like this.

Fittingly enough, he could see how Din’s jaw clenched, how his eyes flashed with annoyance, and grinned. When he had thought of credits he certainly hadn’t thought of how annoying royalty could be to deal with.

“It would be too obvious, Thalassa,” you explained gently, sitting next to Paz and a datapad in your lap, “They already explained before. It will only be for a few days. Isn’t that right, Paz?”

His heart skipped a beat at you saying his name. You were already looking to him for backup, as if you trusted him with it, and the way his name rolled off your tongue … stars, he would dream of that tonight.

“Very right,” he replied, “Three days at the most, all of this will take less than a week if we’re lucky.”

“And if we’re not?” Thalassa challenged.

“Then it will take longer,” Din hissed.

Paz grinned. This would be a long journey.

When dinner had been served, the group had barely moved from their spot in the cantina.

Thalassa had been busy watching some holovid or another on a datapad and the best part about it was that she was silent. Under different circumstances, Paz might have been annoyed by how loud she was playing the holovid, the actor’s shrill voice sounding all the way through the cantina but he could not be bothered to care when the alternative was to explain to her for the hundredth time why she needed to be happy with the lower standard of accommodation.

Din was sitting next to the princess, thoroughly entranced by studying maps or researching new parts for the Crest or something.

But whom Paz was most focused on was you.

You had started to doze off in your seat next to him for a while now and your head kept leaning dangerously to the side, threatening to fall on his shoulder. Paz was tense. Slowly, he shifted closer to you until your cheek rested fully on his shoulder and he heard you sigh in your sleep and then … you shuffled closer to him.

Paz tensed even more, pretending to read the ship’s safety manual in his hands.

He still felt Din’s amused gaze on him though and he furiously tried to ignore the heat that rose in his cheeks. But you were soft and warm against him, completely relaxed now that your head was supported by something.

He wondered if you were cold. It was drafty in the cantina, maybe he should put his jacket over you? He would be fine with just wearing his shirt and the vest but he would have to move and what if that would wake you?

And how would he get you to your sleeping quarters without waking you? Would you be angry at him? He knew some people had trouble falling asleep on spacecrafts and what if you were one of them and you had finally managed to fall asleep only to be awakened by him and then you would not be able to sleep again and –

“Guess it is time to talk about the living arrangements,” Din muttered.

Thalassa put her datapad on the table with a clatter. “Finally,” she sounded exasperated, “I hope at least our sleeping accommodations will be sufficient.”

At the sound of her voice, you stirred next to him, your brows furrowing. Paz thought you looked adorable, like a loth cat that had fallen asleep in the sun with your cheek squished against the tweed of his suit.

“Hey, love,” he whispered, hoping no one heard how that pet name had slipped out of lips so naturally. He rose his hand to your cheek, gently coaxing you awake.

“Huh?” you murmured, blinking up confused at him before a small smile appeared on your lips.

Then you noticed the position you were in and, clearly embarrassed, scooted away from him.

“I am so sorry,” you mumbled, “That was very inappropriate of me.”

Paz wanted to protest and say that he would hold you in his arms for however long you wanted. He would be gladly at your service should you have need of a human pillow again. But even in his lovestruck state, he knew how ridiculous that sounded and so he managed to keep his mouth shut and only smile tightly at you.

“So,” Din pulled the attention on himself, “We have three beds and four people. One private room for two and one bunk bed in the larger dorms. I’d suggest you girls get the room and Paz and I take the bunk.”

“Absolutely not,” Thalassa protested, completely horrified. Paz furrowed his brows confused over why she was this opposed to something that should actually please her. Having a private room had to be one of the points on her secret lists of requirements, he was sure, why in the stars would she not want to stay in one?

“If people are out there searching for me I want to be roomed with someone who can protect me, not – not her, no offence, honey,” she gestured towards you.

“None taken,” you smiled slightly, then turned to Din, “But Thalassa is right. If people are hunting her like you say they are, then – maybe I should sleep in the dorm? I – surely, it won’t be thatbad.”

Everything in Paz’s stomach turned at the idea of you in one of the big dorms. This was the first time you had ever left your planet and you thought they would throw you into a dorm with a bunch of rowdy passengers? No way.

“Well, then how do we proceed?” Din asked, throwing a knowing look his way, “I guess it is best if Paz would be in the dorms with you, he is intimidating enough that people wouldn’t want to approach you.”

“Intimidating?” you asked confused, turning to look at Paz, “I – I don’t think he’s intimidating at all.”

Paz was positive that he had never been this flustered in his life. You didn’t think him to be intimidating. You were not intimidated by him. You were comfortable with him. Comfortable enough to even share a bunk with him.

“Is that so?” Din asked, hardly able to hide his grin, “Well, isn’t that interesting, Paz?”

Shut up, Paz thought, too focused on how you were still tucked into his side, the sleep barely gone from your eyes, Shut up and let me enjoy this.

The walk to the dorm was long and dark and for you, probably quite scary.

Paz was convinced that he had already witnessed at least two spice deals and you weren’t even halfway to the dorm. He was happy about it though because he was not sure what would have happened if anyone thought you had noticed their illegal wrongdoings.

But you were probably unaware of it.

You seemed to make sure never to stray too far from him or the path that you had set out for yourself, your hesitant footsteps echoing around the labyrinth that was the ship. He could see how tightly you were clutching your bag to your chest as he walked beside you and it took everything in him not to put his arm around your waist.

Where did this endless need to touch you come from?

When the door to the dormitory came into view, Paz took a deep breath, shouldered his bag. The weight of his blaster against his hop was a comfort as he braced himself for the worst. Dorms on ships these big … they could be bad.

“We’re bed 32B,” he told you and you nodded your understanding as the door slid open with a creak.

It was a huge room and it seemed endless. Paz could not even see the furthest wall from where he was standing at the entrance. But no matter how big the room seemed, it was absolutely packed with people of all ways of life and it was loud.

You backed up into him, your back bumping against his chest as a sound of fear escaped you.

“It’ll be alright, mesh’la,” he promised quietly, his hands finding your hips as he gently guided you forward. There was a resistance in your steps as he saw you watch your new surroundings. There were several bet games going on and from further down the room he was sure he heard some illegal loth cat races and even more angry shouts at a commotion just to your right.

The bunks that lined the walls each had four levels and Paz was somewhat relieved to find that your assigned bed was on the third one. Far enough up to avoid getting pulled into any of the conflicts. Far enough out of reach that he would have enough time to react if someone tried to come for you.

“I hope you don’t get claustrophobic too easily,” he muttered as he spotted how dark and small it looked. You might be able to sit up fully but he was certainly not.

Before you could step towards the ladder, however, a bright red arm stopped you, blocking your way. You squeaked and stepped right back into Paz’s chest whose arm came around your waist, holding you to him. He tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating at having you this close. Instead, he eyed the man in front of you who grinned confidently.

The alien’s eyes roamed over you slowly, dragging over every single inch of your body and Paz sneered, pulling you closer.

“Oh, where did you get this beauty, Mando?” the stranger asked, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he leered at you, “How much for a night of entertainment, girly? I promise I pay well.”

Paz did not even blink as he pulled his blaster and held it against the man’s forehead. “Touch her and you are dead,“ he growled, arm tensing around you.

Instantly, all eyes in the room focussed on the three of you and the charged weapon but he could not bring himself to care. His eyes were cold as he stared the man down, his other and still on you and he noticed how your shoulders relaxed.

The man shifted uneasily on his feet before he lifted his hands in a gesture of peace. “Alright, alright,” he muttered, taking a few steps backwards, “She’s yours, I get it, I’m backing off, you see, Mando? No need to point that thing at me.”

Paz did not lower the blaster until the man had disappeared into the darkness of the room. Soon the other passengers started minding their own business again, the chatter picking back up and the hissing of the loth cats sounding above everything else.

“C’mon,” he muttered to you, gently pushing you towards the ladder, “That one’s ours.”

You climbed into the bunk before him and scooted to the very edge of it to make space for him as well. Just as he had suspected, the bunk was too low for him and he needed to duck his head before he could even thinkof crawling into the small space.

The bunk was outfitted like most bunks he had slept in, a curtain to pull close during the night, a net at the side to store a small bag or other belongings and a dim night lamp. He pulled the curtain close immediately, fastening it at the side so no one from the outside could open it easily. Then he switched on the small lamp, flooding the little bunk with warm light.

The first thing both of you did was take off your shoes and putting them at the very end of the bed where a small shelf was located. Paz decided to store his backpack there as well. It did not necessarily feel very safe but he also did not want you to feel uncomfortable. The bunk was slim as it was.

“I – I still need to change,” you noted, shifting in what he now recognized as discomfort.

Paz felt his cheeks heating up at the implication.

“I’ll turn around and, uh, let you change,” he decided and turned his back to you. The only problem was that in his haste to offer you some privacy, Paz forgot that the bunk was not built for people of his size and smashed his head against the ceiling.

“Ouch!” he cursed, “Kriffin’ bantha –“ he grumbled, holding his head and hearing your giggle behind him.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to bring out between your quiet laughter, “It just looked so funny.”

He only grumbled, his head still pounding but his heart fluttering because you sounded so happy. It was lovely.

He took the chance to slip off his suspenders and unbutton his dress shirt, only leaving him in his Henley and his pants. It would be comfortable enough for a night’s sleep, he supposed.

When he felt you shift and rustle beside him, he took it as a sign that it was safe to turn around. This time, he ducked his head, making sure to not even come near the hard ceiling. You were dressed in your night shift, fiddling with your hands in front of your chest.

“Does – does it hurt very badly?” you asked guiltily, “Maybe we can find a bacta pill or something?”

Even in the dim light of the bunk, Paz could see the unease and guilt on your face. And he rushed to make you feel better.

“No worries, mesh’la,” he assured you, “It was just a bump and I suppose from the outside it must’ve been pretty funny.”

You smiled shyly at him, “It was and … if it makes you feel better, the next time I bump my head, you’re allowed to laugh as much as you want.”

With that, you settled down under the blankets, your cheek hitting the pillow as you expectantly looked up at him and patted the spot next to yours. “Aren’t you going to sleep too?”

He had no words. Not only were you smiling at him like that but now you also wanted him to – to really sleep beside you. No staying on top of the covers. No sitting at the end of the bed and looking out for trouble. You wanted him to sleep.

He laid down, turning so his back was towards the curtain and he was facing you. “It’s, uh it’s a tight fit,” he murmured trying to arrange his arms somehow. You smiled, carefully taking his hand and stars your skin was soft and put it behind you on your waist.

Immediately, his fingers spread out on your back, pulling you closer. The fabric of your nightdress was soft under his fingertips and he wondered if your skin felt like that too. He heard you take a deep breath and then he felt your fingers on the exposed skin of his chest, playing with the buttons of his Henley.

His eyes fluttered closed, enjoying your soft touches on him.

“Are you comfortable?” he whispered, your head tucked into his chest, “the blanket’s not very thick I could try and see if they have some more on -“

“It’s alright,” you cut him off, smiling up at him, “I’m – you – you’re very warm, but what is that?”

You shifted again and he felt something hard brush against his belly. He chuckled and put his finger to his lips to shush you with a conspiratory grin. Lifting the blanket, he revealed the blaster between the two of you.

Your eyes widened.

“Safety’s on,” he revealed, “but I don’t want to take any chances.”

You shuddered, “I’m not used to all this – this danger,” you confessed, your finger brushing against his chest and he made sure his hand didn’t flex too much on your back.

“I worry about it,” you said, “Of the things that could happen. Thalassa and I – we’ve never been anywhere but home and now this – this is so much.”

“It’ll be alright,” he promised quietly, “it’ll be alright. Just rest and as soon as you can blink we’re one day closer to Naboo.”

“W-will you be there when I wake up?”

“Yes.”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 3 years ago

Text

Unlikely Lovers Chapter Two

It was been so much fun writing this series with @beccabarba . Thank you for putting up with my bad grammar and horrible spelling mistakes just to be thirsty with me over this amazing man.

Master List

Warnings: Slightly cranky Nick, Smut: Male receiving.

WC: 2713

Enjoy x

Neither of you were back at work until Monday morning, and you made the most of not working the weekend. Not much sleep was had on Saturday night, as you explored each other’s bodies, revelled in the sweet relief of finally acknowledging how you felt about each other. Nick eventually left your place on Sunday afternoon, with lingering kisses on the doorstep. Both of you were well aware that this wasn’t just a friends-with-benefits hook up, although neither of you were quite ready to admit to any deeper emotions yet. But you ended up messaging most of the evening too.

All of which made seeing him on Monday morning, in the bullpen of the 16th precinct, where you’d seen him so many times before, seem very surreal. He was already there when you arrived, getting his typical early start. He was standing at his desk, in a burgundy shirt and dark suit pants, his thumbs hooked in his belt as he teased Amanda about her taste in movies.

“I can’t help it if y’all are cowards,” Amanda was saying, as you approached. She leaned back in her chair and grinned at you. “Morning, Y/N, Nick was just telling me you couldn’t make it through the movie.” She shook her head good naturedly. “Cops who can deal with a crime scene but not a few zombies…”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Next time, I’ll pick the movie,” you retorted, looking at her but refusing to meet Nick’s eyes. You didn’t trust yourself to look at him, especially while your movie night was the topic of conversation.

“What’s it gonna be, Dirty Dancing or something?” Amanda smirked.

“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet,” you retorted, going to sit at your desk. If Amanda had noticed that you’d not so much as greeted Nick, she didn’t say anything.

After you’d checked your emails, you watched Amanda get up from her desk to make a call on her personal phone, rolling her eyes as she walked towards the exit. You glanced across at Nick, but he was reading a paper file on his desk and didn’t look up. Probably just as well, since you had no idea how to talk to him in this setting, everything had changed. It was exciting, but it was unnerving too. A pang of nerves hit you in the gut: what if being around you at work made him change his mind? What if the reality of this was too much for him – or for you? What if he wasn’t sure, and just looking for comfort? He’d not dated much since his divorce, after all, and you were an unlikely pairing. Was that why he wasn’t acknowledging you now?

To calm your nerves, and take the edge off your tiredness, you got up to make a cup of coffee. There was a fresh pot ready and waiting. You were just pouring it into your cup when you felt – with your detective’s instincts – someone close behind you. Just before you turned, you felt his hands slide onto your hips, his fingers slipping just under the waistband of your pants. He was very close behind you, but not quite touching.

“Want a coffee, Detective Amaro?” you said, hearing the edge of nerves in your voice.

He leaned forwards, so his quiet words were close to your ear. “I had an amazing time on Saturday night,” he said, his voice warm. All the tension in you melted away at his words, his touch. “What’re you doing after work?”

You put your coffee down and turned on the spot, finding yourself face to face with him, his eyes meeting yours, his desire for you very apparent. “I don’t have any plans…” you told him.

“Would you like some?”

You smirked, your face growing hot. “What kind of plans?”

His mouth twitched into a cheeky smile. “I know what sort of plans you’re thinking about,” he teased. “But join me for a drink first? Maybe dinner?”

“Like a date?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, exactly like a date,” he nodded. He looked so handsome you just wanted to kiss him.

“And after the date…?” you asked.

“We can do whatever it is that’s currently going through your mind,” he winked and turned away before you could reply, heading back to his desk. He stood behind his chair, one hand on his hip, looking back at you. You shook your head, grabbed your coffee and started in his direction.

“Ah good, Y/L/N, Amaro, you’re both here. I need you to go out to Riker’s…” Liv walked through the bullpen, stopping near Nick.

You took a gulp of your coffee and put it on your desk. “Sure thing, Sergeant,” you said, glancing at Nick. “What for?”

“Barba needs you to revisit the confession you got yesterday. Make sure the details still check out. He wants to take it to a Grand Jury, but he’s worried it sounds too good to be true, like he was coached by someone on the inside.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “So Barba doesn’t trust us?”

Liv looked at him, “he just wants to make sure, Nick. It’s not about trust.” Nick nodded, though he was still frowning.

“We’ll get going now,” you said. “Come on Nick, I’ll let you drive…” You saw his face change when he realised he got to spend some time with you this morning, away from prying eyes. He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and slipped it on, following you towards the doors. You passed Amanda on her way back into the building.

“Where’s the fire?” she demanded, looking at you.

“Liv wants us at Riker’s,” you told her. “Checking the confession.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Barba’s being thorough on this one? I suppose it’s fair enough.” She paused. “Hey, are you guys free tonight? My family have finally decided to leave me be – we could catch up since we missed Saturday. Get a beer or something?”

“Oh, er…” you managed.

“Afraid I can’t. I’ve said I’ll go see my mom,” Nick said. Amanda turned to you.

“I’m really sorry,” you added, thinking quickly, “can we make plans for later in the week? I said I’d helped my cousin with his biology homework tonight, I can’t let him down.”

Amanda looked from you to Nick and shook her head. “Sure, guys, just me and my horror movies, I guess. I forget you both have families you actually want to see… See ya when you get back from Riker’s.” She turned and disappeared into the bullpen, as you and Nick hurried to the elevator.

It was usually only a half hour’s drive to Riker’s, but Nick took the Williamsburg Bridge and you hit traffic near Greenpoint that added another thirty minutes to the journey. By the time you arrived, Nick’s jaw had set impatiently. What had been flirty conversation for the first part of the journey had become professional preparations for your visit to Riker’s and then a settled silence as you reached the island. Visits to Riker’s always felt bleak; even hardened detectives weren’t immune to disgust at the conditions of the inmates there, many of them for minor crimes, or remanded awaiting trial.

As luck would have it, you were kept waiting, for reasons the corrections officers didn’t really explain. Nick, already frustrated, only got even more wound up, pacing the floor of the small room you were given to wait in. You already knew well enough that it was better to just leave him be when he was like this, so you sipped a Coke from the vending machine and just watched him walk back and forth, unable to help running your eyes up and down his form, enjoying just how well his clothes fit around that body you now knew intimately.

When you finally got to interview your suspect, he was resentful and much less in the mood for talking than he had been the day before. You let Nick take the lead; interrogation being one of his specialist skills, and one you’d had much less experience in during your time working Cold Case. Even without your attraction to him, you had a lot of admiration for Nick as a detective, one of the most intuitive and hardworking you’d ever met. His gut was usually right; today was no different and he found the holes in the supposed confession that could’ve made Barba’s whole case come tumbling down.

You were just ready to leave when deafening alarms sounded and two corrections officers hurried into the secure interview room. One grabbed your suspect and hauled him off towards the depths of the jail, the other came to talk to you and Nick, a sense of urgency in his words. “We’re going into lockdown, can I ask you both to come with me? I’m afraid you can’t leave the island until we’ve resolved the issue.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Nick protested.

“Afraid not, Detective,” the officer said, showing you into the small waiting room you’d been in before. Nick signed and slumped into a plastic chair, taking out his phone to call Liv with an update. You could see how tense his shoulders were, his brow settled into a frown as his call ended. You were frustrated too, but more because you were worried this would lessen his enthusiasm for tonight’s date. You did manage to lure him into conversation, as the time ticked by, but he would keep pacing the room, not happy with the enforced captivity.

Several hours later, it was already dusk as you finally got back in the car, heading back towards Manhattan, Nick muttering something about taking the Robert F Kennedy Bridge and the FDR as you set off. Although he was glad to be leaving, Nick was clearly still on edge. You watched him, driving, looking at his hands on the wheel, remembering what those fingers felt like on your body. Eventually he glanced over at you.

“What’re you looking at?” he said, a tiny smile curling his lips.

“You,” you replied.

“Why?” he asked “See something you like?”

“I think you know the answer to that” you purred reaching over resting your hand on his thigh.

Nick looked over at you for a moment taking his eyes off the road. He reached down grabbing your hand bringing it to his lips kissing the back of it and then moving to thread his fingers into yours, bringing both your hands down to rest on his thigh.

“I do know” he smirked. The car fell silent, the music filling the inside and you both looking out the window at the darkening sky and bright moon. Nick broke the silence first “Sorry about tonight, I was hoping we would have been back in the city way before now. I was looking forward to taking you out,” Nick sighed giving your hand a squeeze.

“It’s ok,” you squeezed his hand back. “But the night isn’t completely lost” you grinned “Around the next bend pull over.”

You saw the big grin pull to Nick’s face and he licked his lips. Nick drove around the bend and signaled to pull over on a small dirt clearing. He let go of your hand throwing the car into park, turning off the engine, and you both unclipped your seatbelts. Nick adjusted himself in his seat spreading his legs wider. You moved in your seat onto your side to face him, your hand resting back on his thigh running it up to his crotch.

Nick’s breathing hitched and he hooked his arm around your neck pulling you into him is lips landing on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth twisting with yours. You swallowed his groans as your hand came up to cup him through his slacks, his cock instantly hardening at your touch.

Nick pulled back from your kiss and started to kiss along your jaw, down your neck in big wet open mouth kisses, nipping and sucking ever so lightly as he made quick work of undoing a couple of your shirt buttons, your red lace bra on full display. You reached up with both hands undoing Nick’s belt buckle, pants buttons and zipper sliding your hand down into his boxers and your hand wrapped around his long thick cock, pulling it out, his pre-cum covered tip glistening in the moonlight.

You turned your head, your lips ghosting his, Nick’s hot breath fanning your face and his right hand ran around to run up and down your back,

“I told you the night wasn’t completely lost,” you ran your lips against his while your hand lazily jerked him off.

“You’re such a good girl for me. You know how to make things better,” Nick said through hooded eyes, proving he’d remembered how you enjoyed his praise. You felt a hot throb of pleasure.

“Tell me why you were frustrated today Nick,” you purred into his lips as you twisted your wrist, making your way back up from his base.

“I told you,” he moaned bucking his hips up into your hand “I wanted to take you out.”

“And?”

“And-” Nick groaned loud, his head falling back into the seat, biting his bottom lip. “I have wanted you so bad all day”

“Is that so?” Nick nodded, his eyes closing and his mouth going slack. “I have wanted this amazing cock in my mouth all day.”

You pecked Nick’s lips, nipping his bottom lip before leaning down to take his tip into your mouth, your tongue flat, licking around him and taking him fully into your mouth relaxing your throat to take him as deep as you could and then making your way back up to his tip again. He reached over with one hand, pulling out your hair tie letting your hair flow down over your back and shoulders.

Nick rested his hand in the hair on the back of your head, threading his fingers into it, guiding your head up and down on him with no pressure, while his other hand worked its way down your shirt. His big warm hand running along your skin and slipping into your bra, massaging your flesh and toying with your nipple between his fingers,

“Y/N, you take my cock so well- that’s it, baby, just like that,” Nick moaned and groaned, his mouth open and eyes closed.

Nick started to roll his hips up into your mouth when he hit the back of your throat, his hand balling into a fist in your hair and he squeezed your tit, when you reached up cradling his balls, squeezing him lightly. You could feel your panties damping, your body on fire from Nick groping you and the feel of his cock on your tongue.

Nick pulled his hand out of your bra, both his hands going to the back of your head pushing you down on him, his thick curled hair tickling your nose while the car windows completely fogged up from his heavy breathing. Nick guided your head back up to his tip and then pushed you back down, your name, god and Spanish you didn’t understand spilling from his mouth, when his hot salty cum filled your mouth, running down your throat. You sucked him clean and pulled off him with a pop, using your pointer finger to wipe the corner of your mouth dry before sucking the tip of your finger.

You heard a growl rattle through Nick’s chest as he watched you and you gave him a wink. Nick’s hand went to the back of your neck pulling you down to him, pulling your lips onto his, the kiss deepening straight away and Nick groaned into your mouth when he tasted himself on your tongue. You broke the kiss and Nick tucked your hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing over your cheek,

“Let’s go back to mine so I can get a change of clothes and then I’ll take you home.”

“You’re inviting yourself for a sleep over?” you raised an eyebrow at him with a grin and he chuckled back at you.

“I don’t know how much sleeping we will be doing, but I can promise you baby, I will return the favour, hopefully more than once.”

Tags: @wanniiieeee @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @randofando-spoonie @alwaysachorusgirl @amorestevens @harryssxnflwr @teamsladsandgents @thatesqcrush @storiesofsvu @skittle479 @bisexual-dreamer02 @glimmerglittergirl @witches-unruly-heart @berniesilvas

#nick amaro #nick amaro x reader #nick amaro x you #nick amaro smut #detective nicolas amaro #nicolas amaro #svu x reader #law and order svu #SVU fanfiction #SVU FANDOM #svu fan #svu smut

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childrenofthenightt · 3 years ago

Text

That’s The Way (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warning(s): Jimmy and Y/N falling in love at first sight🥺, nsfw insinuations in the beginning but nothing bad, language

Author’s notes: It’s Jimmy time, mates! I’m so sorry for making you wait so long! Slow burns can suck like that sometimes. I hope you’re enjoying the plot so far, and that it wasn’t what you expected! There’s so much more drama to come, though, so I hope you’re excited for that😂 As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

------

Y/N’s train ride home from The Yardbirds’ hotel was a constant swirl of what the fucks booming in her mind: what the fuck just happened, what the fuck does this mean, what the fuck am I doing, what the fuck is Jim doing, what the fuck will this become?

Out of all the things on God’s good, green earth he could have wanted, he wanted her to kiss him. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Y/N thought when she initially heard the request. Then, when she questioned it, he escalated it to a blowjob since she thought a kiss was “too tame.” Y/N eventually did kiss Jim, as he wished. She was pretty sure that he still wanted her to kiss him after his little upgrade, and boy, was she right. ‘He called me a princess’, she remembered...what the hell was that supposed to mean?

As contradictory as it was, her mind was racing with so many thoughts, yet, at the same time, none at all. She was in overdrive, unable to think straight. Y/N forced herself to come to her senses as the train neared her stop, since her parents could not see the sheer bewilderment in her eyes and facial expression as she walked into her home. They would ask question after question, interrogating her as if she had committed a crime they had to get to the bottom of. She had to admit, reluctantly, that this was exciting. The star-studded aspect of it, the secrecy… It was a rollercoaster ride, yet Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to get off anytime soon. In the back of her mind, though, she knew this little dalliance wasn’t going to lead to anything serious.

Jim, however, currently sitting at the foot of his bed in an empty hotel room, was in a complete daze. He couldn’t comprehend that this was reality. The most beautiful girl in the whole world had just sucked him off, and then kissed him! She was completely obedient yet willing, and adorably shy, blushing every two seconds. But the kiss. It was dizzyingly soft, sweet, and passionate on her part. To Jim, this meeting of lips was perfect. Addictive. Devastatingly addictive, like a drug. He wanted more. Her lips were something else to taste and feel. He wondered if she would ever come back to him with intimate intentions. Perhaps even to spend the night, or something even more serious. By the way she so often smiled in a bright and enthusiastic way, Jim thought she just might. He had come to the conclusion, after continuously replaying what had happened just minutes ago in his head, that he was falling hopelessly in love with this girl. His Y/N.

Jim had never felt like this before.

And he didn’t know what to do about it.

~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later...

Y/N’s mum had sent her and her brother Charlie by train into London to go grocery shopping, and perhaps to visit Carnaby Street, Portobello Market, and the Oxfam charity shops to get some new clothes for themselves. Pushing the cart around the supermarket, Y/N and Charlie looked intently at the handwritten list their mum had given them.

“Alright, what do we need next?” Y/N asked, her head tilted to see the small piece of paper.

“Uh, we still have to get oatmeal, eggs, and some fruits and vegetables,” Charlie replied, mirroring Y/N’s position as he gazed down at the list in his hands, which was slowly being painted with black ink. They were making good time, all things considered.

“Let’s go to the produce section then, so we can get everything all in one go,” Y/N decided, starting to push the cart in that direction.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Charlie’s nod served as confirmation, and the two walked on, gazes captured every-so-often by the gaggle of people passing by.

Once the two siblings reached their desired destination, Y/N began inspecting the clear clamshell containers of assorted berries as Charlie went to fetch a bag of broccoli florets and a variety of potatoes. As Y/N began placing the fruit in the cart, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

She turned around to see a very domestic-looking Jeff Beck, pushing around a grocery cart, just like she was. It was odd to see him going about his life as though he was just an ordinary working-class man, especially being the revered guitar god he was. Y/N laughed at the sight as he came over towards her.

“Hi Jeff,” Y/N greeted, walking over to give him a hug.

“Hello darling,” he responded, tilting the girl back and forth in the hug, long arms cradling her against his chest. “How are you doing?”

Y/N looked at him with a small grin after pulling away. An exhale passes through pursed lips as she replies. “As well as I can be, I guess. How ‘bout you?”

“Can’t complain,” he smiled, which then turned a little more solemn. He reached out a hand to place on her upper arm in solace. “I’m still really sorry about Sam, love. I wish I could’ve told you, but he swore me to secrecy… and I don’t want to lose my job just yet.”

“Don’t worry about it, I completely understand. It’s not your fault.” Y/N’s chuckle chimed through the air, much like the birdsongs that seemed to fill the space around them, and she paused, “I’ve done quite a bit of soul-searching recently, and I don’t think I truly loved him...the situation was all so new and exciting, that it made me believe I did. But now, I realize I didn’t.”

“I’m glad you found the light at the end of the tunnel, kid. But that’s life, Y/N. You win some and you lose some.”

“Thank you, Jeff. Really. For being so supportive,” Y/N said in gratitude, as Jeff flashed her a toothy smile.

“Ah, don’t mention it...actually, it’s funny I ran into you because I was actually going to call you, but I… may have lost your number.” A sheepish hand ran through the short hair at the nape of his neck, and Y/N giggles at the man’s hesitancy.

“That’s okay. Here, I’ll write it down for you,” Y/N grinned as she took out a spare piece of paper and a pen from her bag, “what did you need to call me for?”

Jeff watched Y/N’s hands as she scribbled down her number. Her handwriting was neat, soft spirals decorating the ends of her letters. Playful, yet full of grace. Just like her, Jeff thought. “There’s a May Ball at Queen’s College in Oxford on the 18th, and I was wondering if you’d like to come. It’s outdoors, and it should be a nice day.”

As Y/N handed Jeff the piece of paper, he continued. “More importantly, a good friend of mine is attending, and I thought you would like to meet him. You two are pretty similar, so I think you’ll hit it off really well.”

“Do you mean that this meeting is supposed to be a sort of… romantic proposition?” Y/N tilted her head in playful confusion.

Jeff smirked. “Not necessarily. He’s friends with the rest of the guys, so it’s only fair that you meet him, since we consider you a part of our inner circle.”

Y/N grinned at his statement, shaking her head, a chuckle tumbling past her lips. “Well, for the record, Jeff, I’m retired from dating for a while,” she admitted, “the whole thing with Paul shook me up a bit, and I need time to trust again, y’know?”

“Yeah, I understand. But my friend is a nice bloke, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry too much, or put up a front. If you’re uncomfortable, of course we can—”

Charlie came running up to Y/N’s cart and placed the bags of broccoli and potatoes inside. He then stood next to Y/N to see this stranger that she was talking to. Jeff noticed the little boy who suddenly appeared next to Y/N, and smiled warmly. Pointing to the boy, and changing his voice to be a bit gentler than usual, he asked, “Who’s this, Y/N?”

“This is my little brother Charlie,” Y/N said, softly putting her hand on her brother’s back, bringing him to the forefront. Charlie widely smiled at Jeff, baring his childish grin that was missing a couple teeth. Charlie couldn't wait until they grew in, because it would “finally make him look like a real man”, as he exclaimed so often at home.

Jeff crouched down to Charlie’s level and stuck out his hand to shake Charlie’s. “Nice to meet ya, mate. I’m Jeff, a friend of your sister’s.”

Charlie’s eyes widened as he recognized who this man was. “Jeff Beck?” Charlie asked hopefully, “as in the guitar god, Jeff Beck?”

Jeff chuckled as he looked up at Y/N. “Is this the shit you’ve been feeding him?” Y/N nodded and laughed.

“There’s an ounce of truth in that statement, isn't there, Beck?”

“Yes, I’m Jeff Beck, but I’m just the lead guitarist for The Yardbirds. The guitar god title goes to Hendrix, or Scotty Moore,” Jeff explained. What a humble change of pace for Jeff, Y/N thought.

Jeff stood back up and walked with Y/N and her brother throughout the store, pushing their carts in sync and grabbing food as they went. He asked her about what she was up to musically, and she talked about how she was polishing up some Debussy and Rachmaninoff pieces, as well as fiddling around with some old Fats Domino and Everly Brothers records. Charlie and Jeff bonded over their love of cars, which made Y/N very happy.

~~~~~~~~

18th June 1966

The day of the May Ball came. Y/N was excited for the show, but she didn’t want a sour encounter with Paul to ruin her good time. Jeff had called her earlier in the week to give her instructions on what to do upon arrival, and how to access the backstage area safely.

The backstage area was a white tent with the sides covered. Inside, there were multiple long tables of different distinguished people, such as Mama Cass and Graham Nash. Alcohol and little finger foods littered the tables, served in such abundance that it seemed no one was going to see tomorrow.

Y/N walked over to where she saw her friends, and upon spotting the girl, they all waved and said their cheerful hellos. Y/N walked over to sit with them, and ended up taking a seat between Chris and Jeff, crossing her legs and folding her hands in a sophisticated manner, always the lady she was taught to be. She chose her seat at the table very carefully, sitting very far away from Paul Samwell-Smith.

As everyone chatted away, she noticed there was a tall, thin young man with short, dark wavy hair who sat down in a seat between Jeff and Keith, delicately holding a flute of champagne. He was looped back into the conversation immediately, as if he had known the band his whole life. When Y/N saw him, her heart stopped.

This new boy was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He looked like an English James Dean; with the kind of attractiveness that anyone, male or female, completely swooned over with a single glance. This stranger could get anything he wanted at the drop of a hat, with his gorgeous looks and his graceful countenance. He had a sullen, mysterious edge to him, but he also looked gentle and sweet at the same time. He had eyes as green as a forest full of lush deciduous trees, flawlessly framed by dark, bushy eyebrows and accented by long, thick eyelashes. His nose was adorable, petite as it was, and his lips were full and pouty. His smile and laugh made Y/N melt on the inside, his perfectly straight teeth illuminating his porcelain face.

For a moment, Y/N thought she was in love. She was pulled back from her daydream quickly, though, because Jeff realized that now was the perfect opportunity to introduce his two friends.

“Y/N, this is my friend Jimmy, who I was telling you about,” Jeff said, getting Y/N’s attention. Y/N grinned as she refocused on the situation.

Jimmy turned towards Jeff when he heard his name, and that’s when he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, sitting right next to Jeff. Lucky bastard.

His breath hitched in his throat upon sight of this girl. She was perfect; she looked like an actual angel. The way her hair, soft-looking and slightly wispy in the light summer wind, cascaded down her shoulders; her doe-eyes seemed to twinkle in the dimming light of day, pulling him in like the strongest of currents. Her pillowy, supple lips encased a perfect smile, slightly crooked. It was, like the rest of her, completely endearing.

It was then, looking at this beautiful woman, (Y/N… Jeff had said her name, hadn't he?) that Jimmy remembers he was taken. His girlfriend, Jackie DeShannon, was waiting for him at home, but he only had eyes for the girl in front of him, and it would stay that way, it seemed.. He had to get to know her.

Jimmy snapped out of his hypnosis in the nick of time. He softly smiled at Y/N, a smile that made Y/N’s insides lurch, holding out his hand for her to shake as he turned on the charm. “Jimmy Page,” he initiated, his voice being softer and more calming than Y/N expected.

Y/N shyly smiled at him, a dark pink flush gracing her natural complexion, as she reached out to grasp his hand. “Y/N Y/L/N. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Jeff has told me about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Jimmy chuckled.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Y/N beamed, a feigned contemplative look on her face.

“How do you know Jeff?” Jimmy asked, turning his body towards her, now fully invested in getting to know Y/N.

“I met him...a year ago I wanna say? Is that right, Jeff? At a Yardbirds gig at the Marquee,” Y/N asked for clarification. The last thing she wanted to do is lie about Jeff to Jimmy, even if it was something as insignificant as this. In addition, she wanted to use Jeff as a temporary crutch in the conversation. Jimmy’s beauty was making her feel shyer than she already was; she felt as if she was curling into herself.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Jeff intervened, “but she didn’t just meet me, she met the whole band.”

Jeff immediately noticed that the band was leaving the table to get ready to go on stage. Jimmy and Y/N didn’t even notice the table’s departure because they were so wrapped up in each other’s presence and words. Jimmy even moved a seat over to get closer to Y/N, although he said it was an attempt to “hear her better since the room was so loud of drunken buffoons”. Y/N had giggled at that, and it had sounded like music to the man’s ears. Jimmy was completely taken with her, as easy as it was to see.

“Wait, so how do you know Jeff?” Y/N asked curiously.

“I've known him since I was… gosh… thirteen or fourteen? We bonded over the guitar and blues. Indian music, too,” Jimmy grinned, taking a sip of his warming champagne.

“You play the guitar too?” Y/N gasped. Jimmy nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Oh jeez, I should’ve known! No wonder you’re tight with the Yardbirds,” she giggled.

Jimmy’s eyes twinkled at her now-flustered demeanor. “You’re okay, Y/N,” he chuckled, placing a hand gently on her forearm. Y/N felt her entire body break out into chills.

“I’m a session musician, actually,” he began, his hand lingering on the girl’s arm, for what seemed like a millennium to Y/N. “I’d hate to simplistically explain what a session musician is to someone like you if you already know what it is.” It sounded like he was holding back a bout of embarrassed laughter. “You must be quite intelligent, especially in matters of music, if Jeff has stuck by you for all this time.”

Y/N smiled bashfully. He’s so sensitive, she thought dreamily. “Yes, I know what a session musician is,” she giggled, “I’ve been a piano player all my life, so I know a thing or two about what you blokes are talking about when it comes to music.”

Jimmy’s heart began to thump a little faster as his smile widened. “Wow! That’s brilliant. Are you classically trained then?”

“Yes, but I do know quite a bit of blues numbers.”

“Oh, so you really know what you’re talking about! I have to admit, although I am a session musician, I’m not particularly good at reading music. Maybe you could teach me a few things about sight reading and we can jam some time?”

Y/N blushed as her lips pursed together in a grin. “I would love that. We’d have so much fun!” The way that Y/N’s full lips twisted together in a smile looked so damn kissable to Jimmy.

“My girlfriend was actually supposed to teach me music theory, but we never got around to it, unfortunately,” Jimmy continued.

“Ah, okay. Well, if you give me a time, date, and place, we can definitely make it work,” Y/N beamed.

“Wonderful!” An awkward, pregnant pause filled the space, and Y/N cleared her throat, unconsciously sliding closer to Jimmy. There was almost a magnetic pull to him, and Y/N was caught up in it.

“So, what’s it like being a session musician? I’m sure you get asked that all the time,” Y/N laughed.

Jimmy smiled. “It’s quite grueling, brutal at times, but I find it fulfilling. One mistake, and you’re fired, so it’s a lot of pressure.”

“Oh wow! That must be horrible to deal with.”

“Yeah, sometimes the pressure can really settle into you, but for me it dissipates once I’m in the booth. There’s three sessions a day, five days a week, so I don’t have much time for leisure. It’s been getting really dry lately since all I’m playing is rhythm guitar. I love experimentation and stretching out on lead guitar, so constant rhythm is getting quite annoying.”

“I understand where you’re coming from then, from a creative standpoint. How long have you been a session player?”

“Four years, roughly.”

“You must be quite dedicated then!” Y/N exclaimed, “who have you played with?”

“Oh gosh,” Jimmy exhaled deeply, calloused fingers raising to land on his chin. Slight stubble shadows it, and the sharp scent of aftershave wafted towards the girl. Lost in the scent, Y/N nearly missed his reply. “The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, Donovan, The Who, Petula Clark, Jackie DeShannon, Carter Lewis and the Southerners, Neil Christian and the Crusaders, Herman’s Hermits, Marianne Faithfull… just to name a few.”

“Wow! What a resumé!” she gushed, “That’s incredible. You should be so proud, Jimmy.”

“Thank you very much, love, I appreciate it.”

Suddenly, an announcer’s booming voice cut through Jimmy and Y/N’s conversation as he introduced the Yardbirds to the stage. As the five men walked on, Jimmy stood up from his chair.

“Come with me to the wings so we can see and hear them better,” he smiled, holding out his arm for Y/N to take. Y/N agreed, standing up and linking her arm with Jimmy’s as they walked in sync to the side of the stage.

The first few numbers were played perfectly, and it was clear that the audience (and even the road crew) were enchanted by the spectacle. Y/N knew from past shows that the next song would be “Train Kept A-Rollin’,” and she knew that they always knocked that one out of the park. It was always stimulating and explosive.

Jeff and Chris began the opening riff, the low E, G, and A notes thundering out of the monitors melodically. Just as Keith sang “got a train” on his cue, he fell straight backward and hit his head off Jim’s bass drum. Jimmy and Y/N’s jaws dropped in shock as a loud gasp echoed through the air from the audience. The music abruptly stopped as the rest of the band crowded around Keith’s fallen figure to see if he was alright. Murmurings of “fucking hells” were all that were spoken from the road crew as they tried to redeem the concert.

“He was drunk,” Jimmy whispered to Y/N giddily, “he was completely out to lunch and wobbling as he walked onstage.”

“I didn’t even notice,” Y/N replied quietly with a grin, “that definitely explains all the empty bottles and glasses on the table.”

Momentarily, Keith got back up and motioned for the band to restart “Train Kept A-Rollin’” and they finished the song without another mishap. The rest of the set was completed smoothly, and everything sounded sonically incredible. Jimmy and Y/N stood close together the entire time, Jimmy sneaking glances at Y/N from time to time. He lost his breath with the way her eyes were almost aglow in the fading light, and her soft-looking lips parted in childlike wonder as she watched the live music.

The Yardbirds came off the stage, begrudgingly making their way into the backstage tent, where Jimmy and Y/N had situated themselves. No one looked happy, especially Paul. Jeff had his usual stoic look, but he was rushing around for any alcoholic beverage he could find to ease his nerves after what could have been the worst possible scenario.

Everyone took a seat at the table where they were before the show. Jimmy and Y/N sat next to each other as they took in the distressed expressions of the five other men. Jeff was slumped in his chair, next to Jimmy, taking swigs of a beer he’d found. Jim and Chris just stared at the ground, drink in hand. Paul just looked royally pissed off, to the point that it almost scared Y/N. Keith, however, was still totally out of it in his drunken stupor.

“Hey, Jim,” Jeff said quietly to Jimmy, “look, you know, I’m really sorry about the gig. I’m sure you aren’t interested in joining the band now…”

“Oh no,” Jimmy chuckled, “that was amazing! Absolutely brilliant! I loved it.”

Y/N’s interest piqued as she heard their whispers of new information. “Wait! Jimmy’s joining the band? I thought there were only supposed to be five live Yardbirds,” she whispered.

Jeff leaned over Jimmy to whisper back to Y/N. “Oh yeah! I can’t believe I didn’t tell you this already. Paul is probably going to leave the group...and I think it might be sooner than we thought, especially after the whole Keith fiasco...Jimmy is going to take his place on bass, and hopefully he’ll take on dual lead guitar at some point. Then Chris will do bass,” Jeff’s eyes diverted to Paul, who was sitting with his arms crossed and face angry, staring off into space. Jimmy and Y/N followed Jeff’s line of sight mischievously.

“Oooh! Great plan,” Y/N smiled.

A little smirk creeped across Jeff’s face as he quietly counted down, “3...2...1…”

At the very prompt “1,” Paul abruptly stood up from his chair very loudly, capturing everyone’s attention.

“You know what? I’m done,” Paul exclaimed, stepping away from the chair as he pushed it in under the table.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Jim began, standing up from his own chair, “what do you mean ‘you’re done’? What the hell does that mean?”

Paul sneered at Jim. “What do you think I mean? I mean I’m done with this bullshit. I’ve had enough of the horrid travelling, not being noticed, and this drunk-off-his-ass bastard,” he exclaimed angrily, pointing at Keith.

“You need to relax, Sam,” Chris said gently, “look at everything we’ve accomplished over the last three years. You want to give that up? You’re losing your shit over one bad performance.”

“It’s been on my mind for a long time now, Chris. I fucking hate it,” Paul continued, anxiously running his hands through his hair, “and you know what? Y/N hanging around all the time has made it worse. She’s just here to be our fucking groupie. She’s only eating off our clout to be friends with famous people.” The entire table went silent, looking around nervously.

Y/N’s eyes widened at Paul’s awful accusation. “Are you serious?” she shot back coldly, “I knew you were an asshole, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“Oh what, you think I don’t recognize that that’s your motive?” Paul said condescendingly.

“If you think that being absolutely obsessed with you all is my sole hobby, my motive, whatever that means... you are sadly mistaken,” Y/N responded, her eyes closing to slits and her lips pressed together in disgust.

“You’re probably sleeping with Jim or Chris now for all I know!” he shouted, arms flailing in the air.

Y/N was fuming now, standing up from her own chair facing Paul. “How dare you make me seem like I’m a whore for the Yardbirds! Even if I was sleeping with Jim or Chris, that would be none of your business because you pursued me when you were fucking married, you dipshit.”

Paul’s maddening countenance grew. “You’re just an insecure little girl who needs famous musicians around her to validate her and make feel better about herself. You’re a fucking nuisance, like a gnat that just won’t fly away even when you swat at it again and again.”

Y/N gasped, the sound drowned out by the screech of metal against tile, as Jimmy stood up from his chair. He was distraught, upset at the antics between the two bitter exes, and stepped in front of Y/N to protect her from the horrible verbal blows served by Paul Samwell-Smith. Jeff beat him by a second, as he started to berate Sam for his little episode.

“You listen up, you wanker,” Jeff started, wagging his index finger in front of Sam’s face, “you’re just being a butthurt little bitch because Y/N found out that you were married. If anyone’s the whore here, it’s you. Y/N is our friend, even Jimmy’s now, and she takes care of us and makes us happy. She’s not just some whimsy, disposable groupie like the way you used her; she’s an intelligent, sweet, pretty girl who has our best interest at heart. And we have hers. You have to be a fucking idiot not to see that.”

Paul was taken aback. “I write, produce, and play bass for this group. All you do is play lead guitar. Trust me, Beck, I’m not the idiot here.”

“Well, your goddamn head isn’t screwed on straight, then,” Jimmy added, “I’ll be taking your place, thank you very much. And you will never mistreat Y/N on my watch. Ever. I’ve known her for about an hour, and she’s already absolutely magnificent.”

Y/N’s throat felt clenched, but some of the tension was relieved when she realized how protective Jimmy was being over her. As mad as she was, butterflies filled her stomach at his warm ways.

“I’m out of here! You all suck anyway. Have a nice trip to hell, all of you,” Paul said as he walked away to the road crew to get his belongings, flipping the people at the table off.

Y/N sat back down in her chair once Paul was out of sight, slouching and holding her cheeks with her hands as she blankly stared at the edge of the table. Jimmy and the four Yardbirds dragged their chairs closer to a saddened Y/N, who was determined to fight off the tears that threatened to roll down her fury-flush cheeks.

Jeff frowned at the state of his friend, starting to softly rub her cardigan-clothed back to console her. “I’m so sorry about Sam, Y/N. His behaviour was absolutely horrendous, and I can assure you, none of the things he said about you were even close to being true.”

Keith, still a bit drunk, stood up and walked over to Y/N, planting a peck on her cheek. “We’re so glad you’re here, dear. Truly. That belligerent little asshole can suck a fat one.”

A close-lipped smile found its way on Y/N’s lips. “Thanks Keith,” she chuckled.

“I’m going to go get you a cup of water, alright love?” Chris said as he stood up to walk over towards the bar.

“Thank you so much Chris,” she called after him. Chris flashed her a kind smile as he walked away.

I guess Mum and Dad were wrong...they really do care about me, Y/N thought happily, they really, truly do.

~~~~~~~~

After the May Ball was over, and the sky was growing darker with the coming evening, Jimmy and Y/N walked around the grounds of the venue together, talking about anything and everything and sharing laughs.

The lighthearted mood took a drastic shift at one of Jimmy’s followup questions.

“So, Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what was the whole row between you and Sam about?”

Y/N flashed a sad smile, but it quickly faded as she took a deep exhale. “Well—”

Panicked, Jimmy took this as a cue that she didn’t want to talk about it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I get it because of how heated it was. I’m just worried about you, is all,” he interrupted.

“No, it’s okay. Really. I trust you,” she replied with a pursed lip-smile. Jimmy returned the sentiment, internally relieved that Y/N had already seemed to take a liking to him.

“Alright, so about a year or so ago, I went to a Yardbirds gig at the Crawdaddy Club, a few months after I met the band for the first time. Paul asked me out after that show, and nobody told me he was married, so naturally, I accepted.”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, love. What a shitty thing to do, especially to someone as wonderful as you,” Jimmy replied with a little flush, giving the girl a little rub on the small of her back.

Heat rippled throughout Y/N’s body at his touch. Regaining her composure, she sighed. “Thank you Jimmy. That means a lot. More than you know, actually.”

After a short silence, Y/N continued. “We went out for about eight months...and in retrospect, it now makes sense why I could never go over to his place. But anyway, I found out about it before the band played on Ready, Steady, Go in February. Keith, Jeff, Jim, and I were all talking at the front of the stage before rehearsals and it slipped.”

“Who ended up telling you?”

“Jim, but it was purely an accident.” Suddenly, all of the events that had happened between her and Jim guiltily flooded her mind. Now with Jimmy beginning to infiltrate her mind and cloud her vision, how was she supposed to genuinely enjoy the secrecy? Ah shit, she thought, here we go again.

“After the show, I confronted him about it,” Y/N continued, “and he was blaming me for our time together, a-and for ‘tempting’ him into asking me out just by being… me?”

“He seems like a right wanker, I can tell you that for sure,” Jimmy muttered, sliding his hand from its resting place on her back, to her shoulder, squeezing it lightly in solidarity. Y/N met his eyes then, tears filling her gaze, and Jimmy frowns. No one as lovely as her should be feeling this way. He smiles at her, and to Y/N, it is filled with comfort and appreciation. Some emotion… something akin to love, perhaps, lit a fire in her chest, and she looks away. The evening ambience does nothing to hide the traitorous blush that painted her cheeks.

“It’s getting quite dark out, love. How did you get here?” Jimmy asked, stealing another glance at a girl as she looked down at her ballet flats once more.

“I took the train, actually,” Y/N replied.

“Oh, so did I! Here, I’ll walk with you over to the station then.”

Y/N grinned at him. “That’s so kind of you, Jimmy. Thank you.”

“No problem, love. What’s your stop?” Jimmy asked as they began to make their way over to the station.

“St. Alban’s. How about you?”

“Epsom. I still live with my parents, I’m afraid,” he chuckled sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s okay!” she laughed with him, “so do I. It’s nice though, to still live with your parents… home-cooked meals and laundry and all. Plus sleeping in your own bed, and using your own bathroom, of course.”

“Those are very good points,” Jimmy agreed with a chuckle.

The two boarded the train once they got to the station, only waiting on the platform for a few minutes. They continued to talk all the way to St. Albans, where Y/N got off to walk home.

“Say you’ll see me again sometime soon, Y/N,” Jimmy half-asked, half-declared as she stood up to get off the train.

Y/N grinned at him. “I definitely will, Jimmy. It was so nice meeting you tonight...I loved getting to know you.”

“The feeling is mutual, love. Please stay safe and take care of yourself, okay?” he reached out his hand to grab Y/N’s, shaking it a little and smiling at her. Y/N nearly swooned at the gesture.

“I’ll try my best. You do the same as well. Have a good night!”

“Thank you, you too!” Jimmy waved as Y/N walked out the train’s doors. Her scent, a delicious mixture of vanilla with a hint of laundry detergent, lingered in the air as she passed by, weakening him both physically and his rational judgment.

He had a lot of thinking to do on the ride home.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

#that's the way #jimmy page #the yardbirds #led zeppelin #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

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missfiggy · 3 years ago

Text

The Tablet

For dear @clare-with-no-i on her birthday!

I'm always vaguely working on some massively long marauder series for the last three years at Hogwarts but have never come close to finishing it.

Sharing a chapter from the never to be published work that takes place in the summer before Fifth Year. It features some of the architecture and floral and fauna of the beloved Potter House head canon we share, and it's about friendship, so I thought it appropriate for your bday!

Enjoy and happy happy day!

Rating: Probably PG-13 for language and subject matter

The Tablet

“James Potter, you are a bloody idiot,” muttered the boy to himself as he nervously ran his fingers through his unruly mop of black hair.

Standing in a dense oak woodland, James Potter clambered over a few jagged rocks and felled trees to reach his abandoned broomstick that lay near the riverbed of a spluttering stream. He gingerly picked up the gleaming broom handle and gently turned it over in his hands, examining it for any signs of damage. It was his brand new Nimbus 1500, a congratulatory gift from his father for being named captain of his house quidditch team. His brand new broomstick that he just ploughed into the thick old tree trunk.

The accident wasn’t his fault really. James thought back to all the times he whizzed through the forest without incident. His family’s house was situated on the edge of an ancient forest. Since he was a boy, James would run time trials through the trees. First, he’d set the course by hanging scarves over various branches on a winding path. Then, he’d slalom through the trees, retrieving the scarves as quickly as he could manage, each run through an opportunity to shave seconds off his best times.

If I hadn’t been distracted, he thought grimly. James knew that was neither fair nor accurate. He’d flown distracted dozens of times. In fact, he often flew specifically because he was distracted or upset. He knew the speed and the wind and the sky would chip away at his burdened mind until there was nothing left. Just him and pure flight. Still, a niggling memory bounced at the back of his mind, commandeering his thoughts and frustrating him endlessly.

The morning before, James awoke to a dry, high pitch scratching noise: the sound of a writing on a chalkboard. He knew immediately where the sound was coming from. He popped out of bed and stumbled over to his desk. He grabbed a small black slate rectangle upon which white words were appearing in a familiar script. The tablets had been his friend Peter’s idea. A way for James and his four best friends to communicate instantaneously, even when not together. The boys took four pieces of slate and charmed them so that what was written on one would appear on them all. The boys made a pact not to erase til all four of them had initialed the message, indicating it was received (exceptions, of course, were to be made when a slate was at risk of falling into the hands of a parent or a teacher).

Good sirs! Better bring that bottle of Ogden’s next week. I. Am. Now. A. Man. - SB

James knew immediately what his best mate, Sirius Black, meant by that. In their third year, when girls stopped being just slightly better smelling classmates and started becoming the most alluring, terrifying, and confounding creatures imaginable, James and his mates made a pact. If one of the boys ever plucked up the courage to talk to one of the girls, and in talking so persuaded said creature to snog, and in snogging so persuaded said creature to shag, then the other three boys were obliged to chip in and buy a bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey for the conquering hero.

Well then, James thought numbly, laying the slate back on his desk, there’s that.

As he thought back to that moment, James couldn’t account for why he hadn’t whooped with joy for his friend. Nor could he account for the sickening twisting feeling that had been growing in his chest over the last day.

James kicked a small rock, sending it careening into the stream where it landed with a satisfying plonk.

Of course Sirius would be the first. He was the oldest, even if only by five months. He also always seemed to be the one breaking new territory in their little group. Sirius was the first to get told off by McGonagall. He was also the first to discover how to get into the Hogwarts kitchens.

Now that James’s mind was on the topic of kitchens, he thought of the pasties Figgy was baking when he’d left that morning. They’d be golden and flaky now. Perhaps it was just hunger twisting his guts. With his broom over his shoulder, he turned to climb back towards home.

But Sirius isn’t always the first in everything, a bitter voice piped in from the back of James’s mind, ploughing over his theory that he was just hungry and not actually upset.

I’m not upset.

Still, James couldn’t help but search through his memory to recall times that he’d been the first to achieve a milestone. There was the first time he got detention...only Sirius had been there as well. James had been the first to be asked to Hogsmeade by a girl. Though even then, James wasn’t clear on whether that point would go to him or Sirius. It had been a very confusing affair. Elspeth Fitzgerald, one of the most popular girls in their year, asked James out, and then asked if Sirius would take out her friend Tamsin, too. Or maybe Elspeth was asking James to ask Sirius to ask Tamsin out, and James came along as the bonus date. He couldn’t be sure. Girls were confusing like that. Either way, James was definitely the first one to properly snog a girl. He remembers that clearly, because as Elspeth was shoving her tongue down his throat, Sirius was trying to get Tamsin to stop crying her bloody head off.

Of course, James conceded, his one time snogging session was not exactly the model of success. Sirius at least had a few follow up dates with Tamsin, and there were rumors all last year that they’d still occasionally snog. Elspeth and James produced about as much heat as a Chinese Fireball with a sore throat.

You were the first to make a house quidditch team, a defiant voice added.

That was right. James was the first, not just his friends, but of his whole bloody year to make a house Quidditch team. He made reserves for Gryffindor his second year and was a proper Chaser in his third. This year was supposed to be his biggest triumph yet. When his school list arrived earlier in the summer, James was honestly surprised to see the gold captain’s badge tumble out of the envelope. Quidditch captain! James could not think of a time when a fifth year had made captain. Even his father had never heard of it. And the Gryffindor team was an older team. There were several sixth and seventh year players who would have been just as deserving, maybe even more, but McGongall chose James.

He hadn’t even mentioned it to his friends yet. He reasoned that, surely, his good friend Moony would also be named prefect that summer. Moony never really got his fair amount of time in the spotlight, given how brilliant he was, so James was happy to sit on his own news until closer to school. He was planning on telling his friends this next week, when the three of them joined James and his father for their annual end-of-summer camping trip on the moors. Sirius’s latest news totally derailed that plan. With topics like shagging on offer, no one would want to talk about silly old Quidditch.

Is that why it bothers me? Because Sirius is going to be the center of attention? James asked himself, feeling a bit unsettled. He finally reached the edge of the woods, pausing to look out onto the grassy clearing that led up to his home. James stood there and tried to probe his own mind, his own feelings. Yes, he liked attention, but what fifteen year old boy didn’t? Did he like it enough to begrudge his friends their own turns in the sun?

Absolutely not, rebutted a vehement voice inside his head.

He was just thinking about how he’d given Moony the whole summer to enjoy the attention of being a newly minted prefect. And Sirius? James and Sirius were even better friends, brothers even. James didn’t resent Sirius because he’d gotten laid. That was ridiculous.

So why does it bother you?

James thought that over as he looked out on vista stretching out from his family’s land. In the distance, exposed rocks jutted out from the valley’s cresting hillside. A great pile of boulders on the farthest tor gleamed rosy pink as the sun sat low on the horizon. He really was fine with the fact that Sirius had been the first to lose his virginity. It was better really, James argued, that way Sirius could tell James what he had learned, and then James would have a better shot of not mucking things up his own first time. Though James supposed for that to happen, he would actually have to sit down with Sirius and talk about it. It wasn’t the sort of thing that could be explained in a letter.

Or on a slate, a nasty voice snorted.

As James turned as made his was towards the house, he was suddenly furious with that stupid little slate. As if all his friends needed all the same information at the exact same time. It was a ridiculous thought to have made them. Probably just Peter’s attempt to feel more included…

Stop that right now, James Potter, he chided himself.

This wasn’t about Peter (and his Gemino charm really was inspired). It wasn’t Pete’s fault James was feeling this way. It wasn’t even Sirius’s fault, James reasoned. Neither of them were responsible for his feelings. It was his own stupid feelings. They were just being unreasonable and running amok and making James feel ridiculous and hurt because Sirius didn’t tell James first.

There it is, James thought, as a bit of tension slowly eased in his chest. He was upset because Sirius didn’t write to him specifically. James and Sirius were not better than their friends, but they were better friends. For all their bravado and performed nonchalance, there was a level of honesty that James and Sirius shared, a closeness. And Sirius let James find out this really big news alongside everyone else, like he was just anyone else. That action did not feel particularly brotherly.

That still left the matter of James feeling ridiculous. He knew, logically, that Sirius progressing did not mean that James was regressing, but it still felt that way. As if Sirius’s new maturity made James by comparison more juvenile. James tried to reassure himself that Peter and Remus would be in the same boat, but even as that thought crossed his mind he questioned its veracity. Though, at the end of last term, Peter had developed a rather determined fixation on breasts. Size, shape, who had them, who didn’t, whose were the best in their year, whose were the best in Britain: Peter had an opinion about all of it. James thought he was taking things a little far, but maybe he’d just reached a maturity point that James had not. And while Remus did not talk about girls or snogging the same way the other lads in their year did but maybe that was a sign also a sign of maturity -- a sign he was even more mature than Peter’s mature. Kingsley Shacklebolt, a seventh year Gryffindor James thought was a cert for the captain’s badge, never prattled on about all the girls he dated. And he’d dated a lot. James worried that he might have been the only boy at school who spent more of the summer thinking about Quidditch than sex.

When James reached the house, he pushed the heavy wood front door open and walked through. The great hall of Hartscombe Hall featured dark wood-paneling that stretched three-quarters of the way up the grey stone walls studded with mullioned windows. There was a fireplace large enough that James could still stand comfortable inside it that stood facing a long wood table.

James stopped short. What his family's great hall did not usually feature was another attractive and black-haired teenage boy sitting at the end of said table. The very same black-haired teenage boy whose actions had sent James’s mind on a discontented tailspin.

“Sirius?” James inquired, as though there was a possibility his eyes were making a fool of him, too.

Sirius smiled warmly, jumping up from the table and throwing his arms around James.. He brushed the long fringe of his sleek black hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear. Sirius wore torn up denim trousers with silver pins running through the sides and a stiff leather jacket. James did not doubt that this was some new and absurd muggle fashion fad.

“Sorry for the surprise. I know you weren’t expecting me until tomorrow.”

“Mum and dad will be thrilled to see you, of course.” James said, as he released his friend from the warm embrace, feeling even sillier than he had before. “I’m chuffed too, of course, I mean obviously, but why are you here early?”

Sirius’s mood immediately darkened. “Too much Black family bonding.”

Sirius pulled out his wand and flicked it towards the massive steamer trunk he had brought. Evidently, he was all set to leave for Hogwarts directly from their camping trip. James took the cue, slinging his broom over his shoulder and motioning for Sirius to follow him up the front stairs.

“Was it worse than at Easter?” James asked, referring to the epic row Sirius had with his parents over his choice of friends earlier that year.

“Much,” Sirius said as he clomped up the stairs in his great black boots. “One of my idiot cousins is getting married, and Walburga let their whole family use Grimmauld Place as their London pied-a-terre. Apparently you can’t buy dresses in the country or some such nonsense! Parties and teas and a hen-do. It was a nightmare.”

After dropping off Sirius luggage in his designated guest room on the first floor, the boys continued on to James’s room with Sirius. Before Hogwarts, James’s room was on the first floor as well. A sprawling nursery that had its own playroom and connected to his nanny’s accommodations. Being older now, he’d moved himself up to the spacious second floor which had never been used by the main tenants. James loved the unpolished look of it. His bedroom, a converter storeroom, stretched along the end of the west wing. Old raw wood planks jutted out of the white plaster walls and arched up to meet along a central beam in the middle. James thought of it as the house’s ribcage, it’s structure laid bare.

The design scheme, if it could be so generously called, of James’s room was mercurial. The walls were covered, predictably, with banners in the bright Gryffindor colors and drab Puddlemere brown, as well as a moving poster of all the Quidditch players of the last quarter century that James admired. He pilfered his favorite things from other guest rooms in the house to create a chaotic melange of furniture. He had a massive mahogany four poster bed that required a shrinking charm to get through the doorway. To this he added long bookshelves, a heavy armoire, mismatched couches, a dart board, and even a muggle table-football table. Of all these things, James was proudest of his desk. He assembled it himself by plopping an old barn door on top of empty whiskey casks. They still filled his room with the comforting smell of peat.

Sirius walked towards said desk still nattering on about the absurdity of wedding textiles. “Honestly,” he whinged, “I didn’t even know there were different kinds of lace. Since when do fabrics have sub-fabrics.”

“It’s completely ludicrous,” James agreed. “Hopefully, this week will make up for it. Just the lads, walking all day and sitting by a fire all night, I can almost guarantee no one will be talking about textiles.”

“You saw it,” Sirius said flatly.

“What?” James started, confused by the non sequitur. He turned to see Sirius looking down at the desk. Not at the desk, at what was on the desk. James had left his slate tablet out.

“Er-- yeah,” James said in a hearty voice not wholly his own, “Congratulations, or you know, good on you!”

Sirius laughed just once. It was a hollow, quiet sound. Time droned on and the distance between the two boys stretched with it. Sirius traced his hands across the edge of the tablet as he stared out the window over the desk. In addition to Sirius’s initial pronouncement, the tablet now included a loopy scrawl from Peter asking for more details, and in his untidy scratch Moony inscrutably asked, on behalf of a Mr. Kipling, whether Sirius had indeed run a full sixty seconds worth of distance. James felt unsettled. He knew he needed to say something to end this quiet but conjuring any actual words felt beyond his current abilities.

“D’ya mind?” Sirius asked without turning to look at James. He just held a gold pack of rolled muggle cigarettes above his shoulder.

“Go for it.”

Sirius leaned forward to open the window. James heard the familiar clack and swoosh of a lighter. As Sirius exhaled, James watched his shoulders slump forward, as if the expelled smoke had taken all of Sirius’s swagger with it.

“So, who was the girl?” James asked, breaking the silence. “You didn’t mention dating anyone in your last letter.”

“Well,” Sirius said as he turned, softening his stance and leaning back on the desk. “That could be because I don’t know if we were dating, not really…”

“How’d you meet? Is she a friend of your cousins?”

“Merlin, no!” Sirius sneered. “Though I suppose, I have them to thank for meeting her. Like I said, summer was a misery. Bella and Narcissa practically moved in. And Bella’s completely lost the plot. She’s marrying a Lestrange, but you’d never know it. All she talks about is Voldemort and how he’s bringing pride back to Britain. It’s fucking disgusting. I spent as much time as I could out of the house.”

“You said you were riding alone most days on the Get-A-Round…” James said, quoting from one of Sirius’s early letters.

“The Underground,” Sirius corrected.

James shrugged. He wasn’t taking Muggle Studies, so he’d really never need to know the name of the mad contraption that transports people underneath the streets. Merlin knows he'd never ride on it.

“Anyway,” Sirius continued, “I was riding around a lot at the start, but there’s only so many times you can go around the Circle line. Tried hanging around Diagon Alley for a bit, but it was just more of the same. I ended up just exploring. Few weeks ago, I was wandering around Chelsea. I stumbled into this clothing store on the King’s Road and that’s where I met Cyan--”

“Cyan?!” James interrupted.

“Well, it’s Sarah, really. But she dyed the ends of her hair blue, and she was trying to get everyone to call her Cyan.”

“Fair enough,” James said, “I guess, wizards aren’t really in a position to judge someone’s name. We have some pretty weird ones...”

“Hengeist,” Sirius

“Adalbert.”

“Sawbridge.”

“Wilburforce.” James looked at Sirius to discover they were both, finally, smiling at the same time.

“Well, anyway, I just started going to King’s Road on the days she worked. We’d chat and then meet up after her shift ended. Usually just for coffee, but then, well a couple days ago she invited me over to hers to listen to a new record… and well. You already know how that went.”

James did know, and he nodded sagely at the tablet. For all of James’s mental griping over that stupid note and the frustration it caused, he couldn’t help but be intensely curious about the whole affair. Did she just proposition him out of the blue? Or, were there steps leading up to it? Did he bring wine and candles? James heard a rumor that girls liked for there to be candles.

“You know, I don’t really know why I did this.” Sirius said, tapping the slate tablet quickly with the cherry tip of his cigarette. “I guess... the whole affair just felt like it needed a cap off, you know? A full stop. An exclamation point. Some sort of definite conclusion.”

“Hmm,” James mused, not entirely sure of Sirius’s meaning. “I mean. Did it not… did you not… erm… conclude?”

“That’s not….” Sirius started. He held the cigarette gently between his teeth as he stretched both his arms, clasping them behind his back and puffing out his chest. “It’s like yes. You have sex. And sex on one hand is just sex. Just a physical thing, mechanical even. And I know that. Logically, unemotionally, I know that’s true. I guess I just thought, with the way people go on about it… I guess I just thought there’d be something… more.”

“More than sex?”

“More than just the physical bits...yeah,” Sirius leaned over James’s desk and stretched his arm out the window, tapping the ash off the cigarette. “I just expected to feel something more afterwards. But I was just tired… and slightly sticky.”

James shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. He did not know how to answer Sirius as he had no analogous experiences to share. He supposed that, he too, approached the idea of sex at different levels. There was the fantastical element that he would often indulge in before falling asleep at night. In that realm, there was nothing to fear. Then there was the practicality of it. The fact that he didn’t actually know what to do or how to make it okay for the girl. That was terrifying. When he thought of a hypothetical first time it was just as something to get done.

“You could say something,” Sirius muttered.

“I guess, I just don’t know what to say,” James said honestly.

Sirius turned away to stare out the window again.

“I think that’s why I wrote to you all. There was this big thing that happened, and then I just went home and everything was still as it was. So banal. I sat next to Reg at the dinner table and ate mushy peas. It was like it didn’t even happen.” Sirius got very quiet and looked away from James. In a small voice he said, “Does that make me sound like a nancy?”

“What?” James asked. Until that moment, it really had not occurred to him that Sirius would be feeling anything other than elated and slightly smug. Looking at his best friend now, shoulders slumped, hair falling in his face, and staring determinedly at the tip of the cigarette as if making eye contact with anything else would physically hurt, it was clear Sirius was feeling anything but.

“Mate, no!,” James assured him. “Not at all. It’s supposed to be a very big deal. If it weren’t, we all wouldn’t go around talking about it all the time. And, like, look at what Pete and Remus wrote… okay not so much Remus, but he never makes sense anyway. You know Pete lost his mind over it. You know he won't rest until you give him a moment by moment account and draw him a topographical map of her tits.”

Sirius chuckled, and finally brought his eyes up to meet James’s. “‘S’pose we will all have to deal with that. Pete may be the first student to pursue ‘History of Breasts’ at the NEWT level.”

“He’s a trailblazer.”

“Icon.”

“Legend, really.” James laughed and sidled over next to Sirius, perching up on the text beside him. “Feeling better, then?”

“A bit, thanks. Just wish you’d been there--”

James’s eyebrows jumped halfway up his forehead.

“No! Not, there there,” Sirius explained with a chuckle. “Just afterwards, back at the house. I just never thought I’d go out, shag someone for the first time, then come home at three in the afternoon to see my cousins playing dress-up in the living room. It was too bizarre.”

“I ‘spect all the really big events in life are like that. Stranger and way more awkward than you imagined. We’re all just stumbling our way through life.”

Sirius pulled a face of mock shock and clutched at his chest. “What? No! Not even the great James Potter!?”

“Especially the great James Potter,” James insisted, throwing an elbow at Sirius’s ribs for good measure. “You missed a spectacular faceplant this morning after I ran into a hoar oak on my new racing broom. KAPOW- and the SPLAT! Broom went one way, I went the other…”

“Yeah, well, you’re too pretty anyway. Would do your face some good to bang it up. Let’s see this new broom!”

Sirius tossed the remnants of his cigarette out the window and walked towards the broom lying on James’s bed. He picked it up by its glistening handle, flipping it on end to observe the finely trimmed twigs in the tail.

“Pheeeeew,” Sirius whistled low. “That! Is a damn fine broom, my good man. What’d you do? Manage to intercept all of Minnie’s letters home last year or did you catch Monty snogging Figgy.”

“Gross, Sirius!” James laughed, “Neither. Actually--”

James scurried over to the nightstand next to his best and retrieved his captain’s badge from the uppermost drawer. He was so excited to finally show it to someone other than Figgy and his parents, he could not even find the words. Rather, he simply thrust the golden badge engraved with a large “C” into his best friend's hands.

It took Sirius a moment, though no more than a moment to realize what he was looking at. Joy overtook his whole expression, as his eyes shone and he smiled brightly.

“YES!” Sirius roared, raising a fist in the arm. “WE’VE DONE IT! Sweet Merlin! YES!”

He grabbed James and pulled him into another hug, patting him on the back for good measure. James’s heart leapt in his chest at seeing his friend's joy.

Sirius was laughing as he stood back and examined the badge closely.

“It’s not a fake,” James said, “Letter had my name on it and everything.”

“That’s not what I’m-- do you see this? What does that says?” Sirius asked, holding the badge up to James face.

James squinted through his glasses. He did not see anything in the area Sirius was indicated. Only a brightly polished, immaculate gold surface.

“It doesn’t say anything there, mate.”

“Yes it does,” Sirius insisted. “Right there. It says ‘I’m better than Shacklebolt”

James shoved Sirius playfully, but Sirius just held the badge higher as he insisted that his best friend would be the best Quidditch Captain Hogwarts had ever seen. From James’s heart burst forth a wellspring of gratitude and joy. Being an idiot wasn’t so bad, he thought, as long as your friends were idiots, too.

#marauders era #james potter #sirius black

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