#he's having his brat summer late sorry everyone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

matthewtkachuk · 5 months ago

Text

somehow still stuck on you

navigating the realities of your post break up friendship with quinn is exacerbated by how much you’re not over him

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

warnings: a bit of exes to lovers angst

word count: 2.4k

a/n: hi @boqvistsbabe i’m your fic exchange writer, i’m sorry for the wait but i hope you enjoy!! i was feeling mad regret over not signing up for the fic exchange so when @wyattjohnston asked if i wanted to step in as a pinch hitter i said duhhhhh. this is as much a love letter to vancouver in late july as it is a quinn fic

Quinn’s back in Vancouver.

It’s not exactly revolutionary given the millions of dollars and the capital C handed to him by the Vancouver Canucks, but it is noteworthy given the timing.

Training camp doesn’t start for another month, which makes it highly strange for Quinn to be back in the city already. Last you heard he was having a Brat Summer in Michigan.

Not that you were keeping tabs on your ex-boyfriend-turned-just-friend, of course. It’s not a crime to click through the first five Insta stories when you open the app, even when it showcases how much fun he’s having without you.

Although it might have felt like it when you were dating, the sun and moon didn’t rise and fall at the behest of Quinn Hughes. It was just easier to remember that fact when you weren’t faced with him—quite literally faced with a giant banner of his likeness leaving the Stadium-Chinatown SkyTrain station. The start of the regular season would be bad enough with his name on every one of your coworkers' lips.

All this to say you thought you had more time before he re-entered a position at the center of your universe.

Summer had been kind to you, giving you the time and space needed to move on and heal. Even with the colder than usual June, you’d managed to sneak away to Osoyoos a couple weekends with the girls. Your skin? Glowing. Your hair? Shining. Your thoughts? Totally devoid of one Quinn Hughes.

Until you’d been swiping through the aforementioned stories and spotted one of your favorite walking spots in his story. Very much downtown Vancouver and very much not Michigan.

It wasn’t a terrible break up and you’d been friends long before ever getting together, so it’s not unreasonable to receive an invitation to get the gang together for drinks and dinner in Gastown to celebrate the return of Quinn and others in your friend group to your city.

The time and place all but guarantees you have no way of getting out of it, and truly you are happy to get together with everyone, so you have no choice but to react to the “thumbs up if you’re coming” message.

All the healing and the positive thinking in the world can’t stop you from dressing a little better than you ordinarily would for a casual hang or spending a little more time on your hair.

You’re glad for the extra effort when you stroll in right on time. Everyone is loitering around the entrance, clearly waiting on an open table. It kind of foils your plan to slip into an empty chair, thereby avoiding the initial how are you hug train. Before you can even think of another way out of it, you find yourself being passed along from one friend to another until you reach Quinn, fumbling into a quick and stilted hug.

“Awkward,” Sienna hisses but all you can do is shrug pathetically.

You’re saved from much more embarrassment by the hostess informing your group the table is ready and you’re so grateful you could almost kiss her. The long table means you’re not sat immediately beside Quinn which is a blessing because you’re not sure you could take any more close contact. Conversation flows easily around you, the usual topics of work, families, and shitty roommates.

Everything is going well until the conversation turns to Quinn’s summer in Michigan. The distance between the two of you isn’t large enough for you to miss the way Quinn’s eyes flicker over to you when someone asks him if he’s seeing anyone.

It’s not fair the way your vision briefly turns to black, your heart constricting in your chest. The feeling of almost betrayal that floods your veins isn’t fair either—it’s been months since you broke up and you’ve been on your own fair share of dates. Failed dates to be fair, but dates all the same.

Sienna is your saving grace in the form of a clenched hand around your forearm, hauling you to the bathroom with some fake excuse you don’t hear.

“Are you okay?” she asks outside of the table’s listening distance

You can only shrug pathetically, all words failing you now.

She waits a solid three minutes before leading you back.

“Crisis averted!” she declares when you both return, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

The conversation has turned away from romantic endeavors, circling back to someone’s work drama.

You get the sense that Quinn is trying to meet your eyes, but you don’t dare look in that direction until it’s time to leave. Your exit is hasty, the excuse of needing to catch the sky train in the next eight minutes excusing you from any further contact. In the sea of goodbyes, Quinn’s is the clearest.

It’s not technically avoiding if your workload has you so busy you barely see your roommate, let alone your friend group, right?

There’s a major deadline coming at work and it feels as though you’re wasting money on rent when all of your time is spent at the office. Wake up, work, eat, sleep, repeat.

It’s easier to just mute the group chat, rather than be bothered by the buzzing of your phone.

Easier until Sienna ends up bursting through your door after work using the key you’d given her for emergencies only.

“This is an emergency,” she says before you can speak—caught red handed knee deep in an episode of Love Island UK and a tub of ice cream.

Neither of you speak as she grabs a spoon from your drawer and burrows into the couch beside your pathetic cocoon. It’s born of burnout rather than heartbreak, but you’re aware of the optics of it all.

“You’ve been avoiding us,” she says while some hot blonde cries in the confessional on TV.

“Have not,” you rebut, unceremoniously pulling the tub of ice cream away from her so that she scoops up air instead. “I’ve just been so busy with work. I haven’t even had the time or energy to go grocery shopping, hence the ice cream for dinner.”

Her eyes flicker down to the tub in your hands but she doesn’t say what you’re both thinking. That there’s more to the unconventional supper than just laziness.

“Come to fireworks this weekend,” she says instead, her motives for the impromptu visit finally becoming clear. “You missed last weekend and yesterday. I’m asking in person so you can’t ignore the group chat message like the last two times.”

“If I say yes will you be quiet and let me watch my show?” you ask. She nods emphatically, apparently proving that she can in fact be silent. Truthfully the festival of lights is a highlight of your summer, and watching the last two shows through other people’s stories isn’t your favorite way to view them.

“Fine.”

She squeals and throws her arms around you. You want to ask if Quinn will be there, and the look on her face says she’s waiting for you to, but you don’t.

At the end of the day it doesn’t matter if he’s going to be there or not. Exes or not, he was one of your best friends and will always be a major part of your friend group. There’s no separating the two and the sooner you get over it and everything returns to the way it was before you started dating the better.

She doesn’t push any further, content to sit alongside you and soak in someone else’s love drama on screen rather than your own.

“Remember a sweater!” are her parting words to you, notorious for always neglecting one.

You forgot a sweater.

It’s not until you’re sitting down on the 99 beside an old lady that you realize. You’re already running a little behind schedule and it would double your transit time to head back, so you settle into your seat and hope it doesn’t get too cold later.

By the time you reach the beach the group is already together, sitting on a couple beach blankets lined up end to end. You spot Quinn’s unruly dark hair before you even realize you’re looking for him.

“Look who finally showed!” someone says, and you roll your eyes as you drop down on the only spot available, right next to Quinn.

“I’m at the mercy of Vancouver transit, we all know this.” You’d rather rake your naked body over hot coals and then confess your lingering feelings for the boy beside you in front of everyone you know than waste time in traffic and pay the outrageous inflated parking price on a night of fireworks.

Quinn doesn’t tease you like the rest of your friends, and you wonder if he’s thinking about how the last time you saw fireworks together he’d driven. Or how he kissed you for the first time after driving you home from a different fireworks show.

The late afternoon passes by with an impromptu game of frisbee that you don’t partake in—there’s way too many people at the beach for it to be enjoyable and you’re more content to people watch and gossip while picking at the charcuterie spread someone else brought. The active rest of the group seems to reach the same conclusion you had and someone breaks out Uno.

By the time the sun sets, you’ve considered murdering both your friend to your left and your ex-boyfriend to your right. It’s bad enough you’re walking around with a still broken heart, now they’re ganging up on you with draw four cards and Uno reverses. The group is spared by the darkness making it too hard to play.

If circumstances were different, Quinn likely would be teasing you about being a sore loser, offering to kiss it better until someone inevitably fake gagged and told you to get a room.

Instead he’s silent as you turn your back to him in order to face the direction of the show about to start. The sea breeze hits and you can’t hold back your shudder.

“Did you seriously forget a sweater?” Sienna asks. “I told you.”

You spin around. “Yeah yeah yeah.”

Quinn is quick to pull off his hoodie, offering it to you with an outstretched hand. “Here.”

It feels too personal, too heavy, too full of implications and so you start to shake your head. “Oh, that’s okay.”

“You’re literally shivering,” he says. “Take it.”

It’s warm and soft and smells just like him. As you pull it over your head you’re taken back by just how right it feels. Like if you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend things were different.

The train of thought is broken by the first firework, and you spin back to watch.

The fireworks are beautiful and you sit in awe, ‘ooh’ing and ‘ahh’ing along with the crowd around you.

Someone up ahead stands up to take a photo and Sienna has no problem heckling him. “Sit down!”

They do and you just shake your head at her antics.

It turns out that sitting on the sand on a blanket isn’t the most comfortable position to be in. Mid way through the show, you find yourself shifting and leaning back to find a better way to situate yourself. In the process you brush your hand against Quinn’s, quickly pulling it back like you’d been burned.

“Sorry,” you murmur over your shoulder, unsure if the blush coating his cheeks is just your imagination.

When it’s over, you help everyone pack up and follow the group through the beach, quietly bitching about the sand getting into your sandals.

Everyone starts splitting up when the sand gives way to pavement. Sienna lives close, within walking distance and she gives you a tight hug and heads off in the direction of her house.

You’re turning away to start towards the bus stop when Quinn grabs your arm.

Thinking he wants his sweater back, you begin to pull at the hem but his words have you freezing in place.

“Do you want a ride home?”

Your place isn’t the exact opposite of his, but it’s also certainly not on his way home. Call it masochism, call it a desire to return to the way things were before you loved and lost, you agree with a quiet ‘yes.’

The walk to his car is quiet, and you resist the urge to ask him how much he paid for parking tonight, not sure you want to break the silence first.

That silence continues in his car, at least between the two of you. Something soft and acoustic plays through the car speaker as the lights of Kits turn into downtown.

When you get home, he offers to walk you to your door. Once, it was his way of making sure you got in safe. Then, it was his way of trying to prevent the night from ending.

Now, you’re not sure of his reasoning.

You get to the door, and he doesn’t say much more as you unlock it and step in.

“Do you want to come in?” you find yourself asking despite yourself.

He hesitates, hands in the pocket of his shorts. It kind of looks like he’s contemplating between stepping inside and running away.

It makes you angry, that bitter edge of hurt you haven’t quite gotten over yet surfacing.

“What do you want? You need to use your words, Quinn. Because your actions are confusing me!”

You have a very formulated argument prepared, full of evidence and conflicting actions—the result of hundreds of mini one sided arguments playing in your head since he’s been gone and since he’s been back. Arguments that don’t come to fruition because the look on his face is dangerous.

He cups your face in his hands and presses his lips solidly to yours. You don’t even have enough time to fall into the kiss before he’s pulling apart. “How’s that for confusing?”

There’s no answer from you, not verbally at least. Just the momentum of you throwing yourself at him, crushing your lips to his.

Words can wait.

#nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #shelb writes

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johnwickb1tsch · 7 months ago

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Everyone is sending GIF requests, so, here is mine. Hint: Jealous John? (Though I doubt this man can ever be jealous but...whatever comes to your genius brain)

Thanks!

@sweetwolfcupcake SWEEETS!!!!! I loved this prompt SO MUCH!!! You're such a genius. *kisses your head* I hope you like this! 💗💗💗

Bodyguard!John Wick x Shy!Curvy!Fem!Student!Reader

⚠warnings: threat of noncon (not John), mention of parental death

For the record, you didn’t mean to fall in love with John Wick. But he was nothing like the other goons your father had tasked with guarding you before. Wick was tall, and handsome, and had the soulful eyes of a poet. You know he’s dangerous; he can kill a man 30 ways with a pencil (the men of your father’s Bratva will not shut up about it) but he seems so…gentle. And the thing that really proved your undoing?

That good looking bastard was bookish, and it did something inconceivable to your lit major brain. Ever your dark shadow, you spent countless late nights in the library together, and so many Saturday afternoons browsing the used bookshops, combing for treasures. He would rescue the books that looked better fit for the waste bin, taking them to repair. Maybe he was there to protect you, for your father had many unsavory enemies, but it was easy to forget when John discussed with you the finer points of the Bloomsbury Set or the themes of Anna Karenina.

Maybe your father assigned John to you because he was one of the few gangsters around in his brigata one could trust to guard a relatively innocent young lady–that didn’t mean John was safe from you. You just couldn’t help yourself; you’d like to plead insanity, your honor, the night you finally broke and tried to kiss him, while he was helping you with your homework for Russian Lit 301.

How stupid you felt, how utterly pathetic, when he’d very kindly dislodged you from his so soft mouth, looking at you with pity in his sad dark eyes. “You know…we can’t do this,” he told you.

Mortified, you’d fled to your room and cried, knowing you are the most ridiculous human being on the face of the earth.

What were you thinking?

You are nothing like the tall, ethereal creatures that populate the clubs where Wick frequents with your father. You are shy, and curvy, and frankly…a nerd. An old soul, your father would say fondly, but you know he is just being kind.

You’re not sure how you got it into your head, that you were going to make Wick sorry. You’ve never been one for going out, but you decide to give it a whirl, wanting to be anyone but yourself. You decide to go to the Red Circle, to hang out with the other Bratva brats who care way more about clubbing and clothes and who’s fucking who, than classes at NYU.

At first you really hate it–but after a few shots of vodka, it’s not so bad. John has to hang back, keeping an eye on you but not interacting with your friends. He’s scary good at lurking in the shadows, but you know he’s keeping an eye on every move you make. Maybe that’s why you let Alexsei kiss you, the son of a semi-friendly loan shark who works in proximity with your father. You don’t really like him, if you’re being honest. But he’s not totally hideous–and he’s there–and John will have to watch it all.

You and Alex start to have a thing. It’s no big deal. Something to do, on the summer break from your studies. You invite him over to watch a movie, knowing you’ll have the house to yourself. Your father is always at his office doing business, your idiotic brother is always out getting into trouble with his khuligan friends, and your mother…is dead, God rest her poor soul.

You can tell Alex is a little drunk, when he shows up at your door. He’s very handsy, when you settle in on the couch to watch the latest mindless action flick, his pick. It’s ok, until he tries to unbutton your pants.

You have a secret.

You’re 21, nearly graduated from university–and you’re still a virgin.

This is not a thing you intend to give to Alexsei Plushenko. You don’t even really like the way he touches you.

“Stop, Alex.”

“Don’t be scared,” he tries to coax you. “This will be fun.”

“No,” you say. “Let’s just…”

He covers your mouth with his, shutting you up, his heavy body pinning you on the couch. “Don’t be such a stuck up bitch.” His groping fingers squeeze your breast clumsily, painfully, before fumbling with your jeans again. You try to push him off, but he’s heavy, and strong.

Suddenly, he is yanked from you like he weighs nothing at all. You hardly recognize what is happening at first, until you hear the sound of flesh striking flesh. John is on him, his iron fist meeting the younger man’s face.

“John! Stop!”

Wick looks up at you, meeting your eyes in a primal lock of stares–your heart drops and soars again, as you feel as though you’ve stumbled on a wolf over his kill, and the wildest thing?

You get the inkling that wolf is jealous.

“Don’t hurt him anymore,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. A beating will make some complications for your father. A death? Could mean war.

Wick punches the handsy young man one more time, his eyes never leaving yours, before hauling Alex up by the collar and frog marching him out the front door, tossing him down the concrete steps of your home.

John finds you waiting for him in the marble foyer, his eyes wild, his knuckles torn. You don’t even know what to say.

“What did you even see in him?” he finally demands, clearly annoyed.

“He wasn’t you,” you answer without thinking.

Wick steps up to you, toe to toe, so that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. His hair has broken free from its slicked back style, tendrils in his eyes.

He’s never looked more beautiful, your savage savior.

“You’re trying to get me killed.”

You shake your head, the very thought anathema to you. You are transfixed, unable to look away, unable to think. “You’re too precious to me,” you admit, and screw your eyes shut the moment you admit it, a spear of mortification piercing you from your heart to your stupid, aching, cunt.

“Milaya…”

It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to you.

Your eyes drop to his knuckles, torn open in his defense of you. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Not to me.” You don’t know where you get the courage, to take his hand, and lead him up to your room. You can hardly believe it, that he actually follows you. In your ensuite bathroom you dab at his knuckles with a washcloth, slather him with ointment and plaster him with bandaids. You run out of sober flesh colored ones, so the last cut gets a Disney bandage, Ariel and sea-flowers decorating this severe man’s knuckles.

He lets you do all this, watching you intensely with those dark eyes you’re certain can see into your soul. You stand too close–and he lets you, this haunted man who watches over you day and night. Your whole life you have never wanted for anything, your father’s money buying you all your heart could possibly desire.

Until now.

You find it hard to meet his eyes, zeroing in on a spot of blood on his stark white dress shirt.

“Y/n.” With a gentle knuckle under your chin he turns your gaze up to his again. “You are too smart, and too beautiful, to be wasting your time with a fuckboy like Alexsei Plushenko.”

The first part you already knew. The second, from this man’s lips? Your knees nearly collapse out from under you, a flood of excitement and dread coursing through your system. You almost can’t stand it–it’s like being burned alive, and your native shyness rears with a vengeance.

You try to flee, back to the safety of your room, and your books, your imaginary lives that can’t really hurt you–but he catches your hand. His grip is not hard, but it is enough to stop you dead in your tracks.

“Y/n…” He’s pleading with you, but you don’t understand what he’s asking you.

“You said you don’t want me, John…” you say, still unable to meet his eyes. “So let me go.”

He answers by pulling you against him, the solid line of his torso a brick wall beneath the hand you raise to catch yourself. But bricks are not warm, like the flesh beneath his designer clothes. You can feel the wires in your brain sizzling, the synapses simply melting down. Your heart is Chernoble waiting to happen.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You said–”

“I said, ‘We can’t.’ Not, that ‘I don’t want you.’”

You almost cannot breathe, your heart attempting to beat out of your chest, a ringing in your ears that drowns out all else. There is nothing, nothing, in this world you’ve wanted more, than to hear those words from this man. But now that he’s standing before you, against you, holding you–you cannot move. You do not know what to do.

He solves this problem by cupping your cheek in his big hand–God, how you’ve noticed those hands–and then he is pressing his mouth to yours, gentle at first, but then…hungry. As though John Wick has been starving, for you, and it’s all you can do just to stand there and take it without melting into a puddle on the floor. His arms wrap around your back, holding you, lifting you to your tiptoes as he devours you. When at last he pulls back you are left seeing stars, struck utterly speechless with your hands on his broad shoulders.

“Tell me to stop,” he raggedly demands, his eyes boring down into yours.

Finally, you find your courage, meeting his stare. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper.

“Good. Because I don’t think I can.” He kisses you again, just as hungrily as the first time, his arm an iron band around your waist and his fingers sneaking up into your hair. That’s your kryptonite: your hair, and blithely you know he can do anything and everything he wants to you now.

Your father is a bad man, but you have not had a bad life. You have never known hunger, or true physical pain. He has protected you from the violence of his world. He has played things smart enough that not even the FBI can touch you, even though they absolutely know what he is and where your family gets its money. Despite all this, you have been dying inside, a slow, withering demise, until John Wick’s lips touched yours. He is the life-giving rain over the desert; your heart is a field of wildflowers erupting in a superbloom.

This time, he leads you, in between kissing you, to the loveseat at the foot of your bed. He sits, and only when he tries to pull you into his lap do you resist. “John…I’m too…much,” you insist, conscious of your generous flesh and what it would be like to set that on top of him, afraid he’ll be horrified.

However, he just scoffs at you, grabbing you up anyway and guiding you down. For a moment you are weightless–he knows how to upset a person’s balance, how to use their weight against them to put them on the floor. This time he uses it to put you on him. You’re not exactly proud of it, but the ease with which he utterly manhandles you makes your long-neglected lady parts sing with desire.

“You are perfect, dietka,” he insists, pulling you closer with hands on your round behind, “And I am very strong.” For the first time in you can’t remember how long–he smiles at you. That beautiful half smile with a sparkle in his dark eyes that takes your breath away–you love him so much it hurts.

This time you don’t feel so shy, about kissing him. You feel like your bones are filled with butterflies, and you both moan and giggle as you do your best to devour each other from the mouth down. Aside from an appreciative squeeze of your thighs bracketing his hips, he doesn’t try to seduce you, even though you know you absolutely would have given him anything he asked you for. He is content, just to kiss you, for this night at least, and oh. He’s good at it too.

You decide you would burn down the world, for one more kiss from John Wick.

Later you find yourself snuggled in your bed with John, fully clothed, your head on his shoulder as he toys with the fine hairs at the back of your neck. His touch is heaven, and with your legs twined with his it’s hard not to squirm and writhe against his muscled thigh like a horny little gremlin.

Later, you tell yourself. It can wait for later.

Like maybe, tomorrow.

“We’ll have to be careful,” he warns you. “If your father…”

If your father found out, the best thing that could happen to John is getting fired.

“I won’t let you get hurt,” you promise, kissing his bearded cheek, praying you’re telling the truth.

He chuckles at this; a deep sound you feel more than hear. “I thought that was my job?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know.” He looks down at you with a tenderness that curls your toes. “It would be worth it, for you.”

Your heart has suddenly decided it would like to take up residence in your throat–permanently.

“Oh, John…”

He kisses you again, a soft brush of lips that renders you weightless. This is how you die: it’s almost too much to stand, this impossibly full feeling in your chest. Then he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You have been driving me mad, you little minx. I wanted to kill everyone who so much as looked at you in the Circle.”

You snort at the thought–you do not understand, really, that he could absolutely do it too.

“Not to worry. I think the library is more my speed.” He rests his head against yours with a small, contented sigh. “Mine too,” he admits. The smell of old books around you is a soothing balm to you both.

You know small bits of his past. Morsels he has sprinkled, here and there in the conversations you have had. You know he did not have an easy childhood. You know that this life was not really his choice. Even less so than most, who move and work in the Underworld.

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?” you ask.

He lifts an eyebrow at you. “I’m liking New York, at the moment,” he tells you with an affectionate squeeze.

“Oh come on.”

“Fine. I like Paris a lot.”

“Hmm,” you answer, but what you think, is: Done. You will have the opportunity to arrange to study abroad soon, and you think a trip away from the Tarasov territory might do you both some good.

Surely Papachka wouldn’t deprive you of your most trusted bodyguard?

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader

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badstargateimagines · 4 months ago

Text

Stargate characters using Gen z slang

And how I think it would go

Daniel: always says it excitedly, happy to learn new words. Always uses it correctly although in a way that is so alien to Gen Z slang. Daniel is the type to annunciate every single syllable and then wonder why zoomers are laughing at him. Says shit like “it’s Goa’uld technology, I fear… they ate and left no crumbs with this technology”

Jack: uses it incorrectly to piss off the youth. Gets a shot eating grin on his face before saying it. A young airman will finish giving a presentation about an alien race threatening the entire planet and he’ll just go “what the sigma?” And everyone within earshot groans

Sam: hits it occasionally because it’s worked its way into her vernacular because of Cassie. Goes through the stages of grief every time she uses it. It very natural, always sounds like Sam Carter, but it’s always immediately followed by a wince. Like she’ll be talking to a bunch of people at work and just say something like “honestly, we’re lowkey cooked if this doesn’t work” and then she immediately winces and then stares off into the distance with a heavy sigh. She doesn’t say anything about it, she just moves on, but mentally she is not doing well.

Teal’c: exactly how you’d expect, man. You and I both know he’ll look at Daniel getting a smoking hot alien’s astral phone number or whatever, and he just, completely fucking dead pan, says “Daniel Jackson is indeed the goated rizzler.” And everyone stares at him like he has three heads

Jonas: arguably does the best with it. Uses it in the most post ironic cringe way possible, you can hear his sarcastic laughter in his tone. He is indistinguishable from The Fellow Zoomers to a point where he has the cadence and mannerisms down. He’s the type to say “Brooooo what a fuckin’ gigachad like that fuckin’ legend, bro, for real” about probably Teal’c doing something innocuous.

Vala: wait no actually she’s the best at it. She’s practically a zoomer herself. She was actively engaged in Brat Summer ™️ and was loud about it. She enters a room and goes “hi divassss!! Sorry I’m late, I got caught in the elevator with a certified yapper, but it’s chill cuz he was low key based as fuck and let me hit the penjamin, like literally what a fucking Chad… like am I delusional or was he literally trying to rizz me the fuck up?” and no one understands what the fuck she’s saying. They assume it’s because she’s an alien

General Hammond: he’s like all those old people that gen z marketing interns are turning into clout farms on TikTok at the moment. Like he’s extremely stiff with it, but he’s definitely in on the joke, like bros really just like “chat, the Gould have negative aura points at the moment, and it’s up to us to strike while they’re lowkey in their flop era.” And even he can’t hold a straight face.

#stargate #stargate sg1 #sg1 #bad stargate imagines #daniel jackson #sam carter #jonas quinn #teal’c #vala mal doran #jack o'neill #general Hammond #idek at this point bro #I’m just throwing shit at a wall here

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deathbyyoongx · 1 year ago

Text

everytime; chapter 6 — myg

╭ chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, ...

╭ word count: 5k

╭ summary: Everyone knew Min Yoongi as the guy who wouldn't say no to a nice pair of tits. His cocky attitude and stunning looks made it hard for most girls to resist. And even though you would like to say you're not like the others in that aspect, you unfortunately happened to be his ex. But even though you despised his guts for the last 3 years or so, he somehow managed to find himself a way between your legs on one semi-drunk night.

╭ pairing: fuckboy!yoongi x ex!reader

╭ genre: smut, angst, bit of fluff, more smut

╭ warnings: enemies to fwb, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, jealous ex!jungkook, bestfriend!jimin, hate sex, yoongi has a degrading kink but so does yn, brat taming, hair pulling, spitting, slapping, hickeys, choking, unprotected sex (STAY SAFE GUYS!), creampie, praise kink, hand kink, possessive yoongi, sexual content ofc, mentions of drinking, ...

╭ author's note: this fic is inspired by the song everytime by ariana grande. I also recommend using the chrome extension InteractiveFics for a better reading experience ;)

I'm sorry my dear readers it took so long. My life has been so busy this summer, but I'll finally have some free time soon. Not fully satisfied with this chapter, but I hope you'll still enjoy it <3

08/09/2023

The inevitable happened. Jungkook was standing in front of your door, right here, right now. You knew ignoring him was a bad idea and this was bound to happen from the start if you kept avoiding him. It also didn’t help that he interrupted your little self-love session which involved you pleasuring yourself by the mere thought of Min Yoongi. You’ve become your greatest self-saboteur. You just kept rethinking that night you were at his house where you were too much of a pussy to make a move. The scenario of that morning where he was just on display for you, ready for you to get rid of his morning wood. But no, you didn’t dare. The words of Yoongi just echoed through your head. ‘You’re a lot of talk when you’re drunk, but sober you’re such a pussy.’ You hated the fact he was right. But, back to Jungkook, before you were getting even more worked up.

“Look, I wasn’t planning to come over,” Jungkook said with a pleading expression, looking very apologetic about the fact he was bothering you today, making you feel even worse about ignoring him. “But I had plans with Joon and since you live right next to him, I just wanted to check on you for a second.”

No matter what happened between you and Jungkook, you could never be mad at him. You’ve known him for some time now, and you just knew how sweet that boy was. Whenever you’d text him in need, there he was. Whenever you wanted advice, a hug, or just a good laugh, there he was in front of your door. And that’s why you couldn’t break his heart again. You just knew how disappointed and heartbroken he’d become if he’d known about your little affair with Yoongi. You didn’t owe him anything, you knew that. You also knew, that the longer you postponed telling him, the worse he’d react. But every time you wanted to tell him, your heart blocked you off. “That’s sweet Jungkook, I’m fine though.”

“You've been distant, I barely hear from you anymore. Did I do something wrong?” Suddenly, you felt really bad about ignoring Jungkook as soon as he asked that.

“I know and I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy lately.” Oh, and busy you were, but for all the wrong reasons.

“With the move probably?”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t a lie, you have finally packed out all of your stuff, but it also wasn't the complete truth. But as long as you didn't lie, it didn't make you feel too bad. “Sorry if I made you think I forgot about you.”

“It's fine, u know I can't be mad at you.” Likewise. “Maybe I got too worked up over nothing.” Jungkook stayed quiet for a second. “If you want, I can ask Namjoon if you could join us. It has been a while since we’ve hung out.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Jungkook’s suggestion. “That's sweet, but I'm a bit tired.” And very horny cause you interrupted my little fantasy of Yoongi. “But I’ll text you to hang out as soon as possible, okay? I promise.” You held out your pinky finger to enhance your promise, waiting for him to link his with yours.

Jungkook smiled, teeth showing as well. You’ve been keeping promises like this ever since college. “Alright then.” He said while he linked his pinky with yours. “See you later.” After your wholesome goodbye with Jungkook, it was time to continue your sinful ‘fingerpainting’ session again if you wanted to function for the rest of the evening. Because, damn, did the idea of Yoongi drive you insane. But the moment you spread your legs again, that dreadful message of that girl popped back in your head, making you cancel all plans you had to finger yourself at the thought of that fuckboy. Remember that name Eunha? Yes, we all do. One thing led to another and now you were looking up her profile by searching through Yoongi’s followers. You hated her already. Not only was she drop-dead gorgeous, but you saw her feed was full of pictures of her and Yoongi. “Argh-“ You groaned out loud out of frustration. How could you compare to these beauties? You rarely felt insecure, but when it came to Yoongi? Damn, it’s as if confidence never crossed your path. The mere thought of Yoongi spending another night with another girl made you groan out loud out of resentment. You just kept telling yourself: ‘You know he’s a fuckboy, you shouldn’t obsess over this’. You were putting yourself in this situation. But the feeling of him wanting you just was too addictive. You couldn’t even differentiate the feeling of lust and love anymore around him. You just knew one thing for sure, you wanted him. That’s it. There was only one rational thing left to do now. Send him a nude. After some awkward posing half-naked in front of your full-body mirror, only wearing some black lace panties, you finally took a picture you were more than satisfied with. A proud smirk formed on your lips as you sent the picture to him with the caption ‘so long till Friday :(’.

Sent.

Where had your rational thinking gone whenever it came to Yoongi? You wouldn’t have done this for any other guy, but him? That man just made you do irrational things. You pulled on an oversized shirt as you just continued to scroll down Instagram, further stalking the girls that you saw tagged Yoongi in their posts. Not only the fact that there were other pretty girls that we’re fucking Yoongi was bothering you, but also the fact that it was so fucking many. This was just bound to happen. A hot successful single man in his twenties that loved to fuck around and was also good at fucking around? Of course girls would scurry to him like hungry rats. Maybe you shouldn’t think of those girls as rats, you bet they were lovely girls that, like you, couldn’t resist the charms of Mister Min Yoongi. This was your jealousy talking, but why were you so jealous…?

[21:06] Yoongi: Come over

The notification of Yoongi’s message popped up on your screen like a sign from above. You really wanted to come over, but you need to toy with him was even bigger. Plus, you were a bit irritated by scrolling through all those girls’ Instagram accounts, so no way in hell were you going to give in that easily.

[21:07] y/n: why would I head over to your house at this hour? It’s so dark out.

[21:07] Yoongi: you’re right

[21:08] Yoongi: on my way

Wait, what?!

Was he…really planning to come over? His text made you jump out of your seat and head as quickly as possible to the bathroom for a quick shower. You were all sweaty and stinky from work, no way that you could let him see or smell you like this. It took you an impressive 15 minutes to get ready, almost a new record. So there you were, casually sitting on your couch, acting as if you were not expecting anyone to ring the doorbell anytime soon.

Ding dong

An instantaneous smile formed on your lips, slapping yourself on the face to get rid of it as you jumped out of your seat. You gave yourself a last glance at the TV reflection, just to make sure you looked presentable. You fixed your hair and opened the front door, revealing a handsome-looking Yoongi, per usual. “Hi Yoon-” But the sudden feeling of his lips on yours interrupted your greeting.

He gently pushed you inside, closing the door behind him. “You’re such a tease.” He whispered in between kisses. His touch was gentle as if he was savouring every taste, this time not planning on another night of just talking. He deepened the kiss, his tongue gently teasing the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. No time could be wasted as your desires had been suppressed by your cowardness last night. You needed him now. You led Yoongi to your bedroom, a trail of stumbling over one another as you just couldn’t keep your lips off of each other. It became apparent neither of you were planning to take it slow by the way you were tucking on each other’s clothing, desperate to take them off this instant. In a swift motion, Yoongi took off your shirt, making him smirk at the sight of those familiar black-laced panties. He pushed you onto the bed before taking off his shirt as well, revealing his lean body and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Your eyes travelled from his face to his neck, chest, and abs until they stopped as his ever-growing erection that was desperately waiting to be released from his jeans. He noticed your staring, making him say. “This is all yours.”

He hovered over you, pushing you further on the bed as his lips followed yours. “My girl got needy for my cock, huh?”

“Just a cock, to be honest.” You were really not into the whole ‘I’m going to stroke his ego even further’, not because you didn’t want to necessarily, but because you were a whore for him putting you in your place.

“You say that, but I bet you only sent that picture to me, didn’t you?” You were quiet, which made your answer all too obvious. “That’s what I thought.” Yoongi pulled back for a second, taking his time to admire your body which he can’t seem to get enough of. The way the lingerie complimented your curves, looking too pretty to take off. “You never feel to amaze me, damn-” You felt your cheeks heat up out of embarrassment, making him smirk out of satisfaction. “Getting shy, huh? That’s how I know my girl.” He whispered in a husky tone before his lips met your neck.

Yoongi’s lips on your neck made you shiver, holding onto his shoulders for support. “No hickeys please, I have to work tomorrow.”

His hands travelled towards your core, gently rubbing against the already wet cloth in a teasing manner. “I’ll try.” He said before kissing you again, feeling him smirk against your lips. “I’m almost flattered how worked up you get from me.” He moved the slip of your panty to the side, his fingers finding their way to your soaked entrance. He glided his middle finger between your folds, using your own wetness as lubrication as he gently applied pressure on your sweet spot. A small whimper left your lips as your hands tightened themselves around Yoongi’s upper arms, making you realize how buffed he had gotten over the years. His middle and index finger hugged around your clit, slowly and teasingly circling around it, making it hard for you not to slip out a few moans. While your eyes were closed as you felt yourself getting lost in the pleasure, Yoongi's, however, were fixed on you as if he were studying you. Adjusting his every move by the way you reacted to it, unconsciously remembering how you like it. The way his hardness was pressed against his jeans made it almost seem like it was going to tear any second now, but how couldn’t he? Seeing you desperate for his touch was one of his biggest turn-ons, but there was one small thing leaving him not fully satisfied. “You can be louder than that.” Yoongi whispered in your ear, the tone of his voice low with a slight rasp. “I want to hear you.”

“I have thin walls.” You let out, gasping for air due to you covering your mouth to keep yourself down.

“Namjoon will not care.” Yoongi purred as he increased his pace, making it even harder for you to control yourself. He knew your neighbour and mutual friend liked to mess around himself, but that wasn’t the problem…

“Jungkook’s visiting him.” You said without thinking twice., almost regretting it instantly after those words spilled from your mouth.

“Uhu.” He said sternly, removing his hand from your precious core as the air was getting filled with anticipation. “In that case.” Yoongi unbuckled his belt, pulling it off his waist in a swift motion. “Give me your hands.” Without putting much thought behind it, you did as you were told as you held your hands in front of you. With a firm grip, Yoongi grabbed your wrists and started wrapping his belt around it, tying your hands to the headboard of your bed. Oh no…His fingertips were brushing down at the side of your legs, finding his way back to your most intimate area, carefully sliding down your panties. He felt empowered by your arousal, your cunt glistening from excitement. His lips followed suit, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your thighs before his tongue traced the slit of your hole. A small quiver left your lips as he pressed just the right amount of pressure on your clit, followed by short flicks. The world around you faded away as Yoongi focused solely on your pleasure, and you could tell he was trying to make a point by touching you with slow and teasing movements, making it hard for you not to whine out of sheer desperation.

“Yoongi, please-” You softly moaned, feeling rather unsatisfied by the minimum fulfillment he was giving you. Yoongi, however, did not make a sound as he continued teasing you. Every time you expected him to apply more pressure or increase the pace, he pulled his tongue back, and it almost felt as if you could feel his smirk against you. Due to Yoongi’s solution to make you unable to muffle your moans, the silence of the room was getting filled by your desperation. A whimper, a moan, and eventually a cuss in a mixture of Yoongi’s name slipped your lips. “Fuck-” The pleasure intensified, building an undeniable tension that hung in the air, aching to be released. Slow but surely, Yoongi did give in to your needs, making you want to grab onto the bed sheets but being unable to. The way his tongue rolled on your sensitive nub, not only added to your pleasure but made his even more desperate. You became a moaning frustrated mess, every flick of Yoongi’s tongue feeling like a tease. “Just make me come, please-” You cried, hopelessly waiting for your sweet release. “Please-” Tears from desperation rolled down your face in a mix with your mascara, a sight Yoongi loved to see.

Yoongi sat back up straight, wiping your wetness from his underlip. He looked at you with full earnestness, smirking at the state of your body out of amusement, a hint of sadism in his eyes. “Beg for it, tell me how much you want it.” He said in full seriousness, his eyes shimmering with pure lust and desire. His fingers were tracing the entrance from your folds, gently applying pleasure at the most sacred part. “Loud enough for me to hear it.” He smirked again.

“Yoongi-ah-“ He took your clit between his fingers again, using a quick circular motion to receive a reaction from you. “Please, please, please-” smirking at the tears mixed with your mascara rolling down your face. “I need you to make me come. You can do whatever you want with me, but just make me come.” With every move, you felt yourself growing closer, letting out another loud whine as he abruptly removed his fingers from you. You watched Yoongi lick his fingers as if you were a delicacy before he started unzipping his jeans for his own comfort. “Yoongi-” You called, rubbing your legs together to feel some sort of release.

After Yoongi took his jeans off, his boxers were the only thing away from revealing himself. “I know baby, I know.” He placed his hands on your thighs again, spreading your legs again, preventing you from continuing to self-pleasure yourself. “Does my girl want to cum?” Yoongi’s fingers softly caressed your slit, driving you even more horny and insane. A moan that sounded like a yes left your lips. “Hmh?” He teased as his fingers left again.

Feeling the absence of Yoongi’s touch was what drove you to sheer and utter desperation. “My fucking god-yes! Please, Yoongi, let me cum. I need you so badly right now.” You cried, more tears leaving your eyes. The louder your pleads got, the more satisfied he was. “Yoongi please-”

Yoongi let out an amused chuckle. “Look how desperate you are for me. What would your friends think if they heard you like this? Especially the neighbours.” He said, sure to emphasize that last part.

“I don’t care anymore, I just need you.”

“Good.” Yoongi placed your legs on his shoulders, keeping your thighs in a steady distance, his grip making it unable for you to move. His tongue tracing, what felt like love letters, on your aching clit, every flick driving you closer to your orgasm. After all that teasing, it didn’t take long for you to get there, feeling the knot in your lower body growing stronger.

“Yes, yes, oh my fuck-yes!” With an arched back and trembling legs, you finally reached your long-postponed climax, which was more intense than your body seemed to handle. And it felt as if you could feel it until the tips of your fingers, leaving your body in exhaustion. “Fuck Yoongi-“ You heavily panted, feeling his tongue still on your clit. “I’m too sensitive.” You whimpered, making him pull away.

“Awe, are you now?” He said with fake pity.

“Uhu.” You pleaded.

“Was it a bit too intense for my girl?” He asked, making you hum another ‘uhu’. “Poor thing.” He leaned in to kiss you, feeling his hand going near your back to take your bra off. “I want to see all of you.”

As you were catching your breath, heavily panting, you watched him take his briefs off which were covered in precum. “You’re doing so good, baby. Do you want the rest?” Was Yoongi’s way of asking for further consent, giving his dick a few slow strokes as he looked at you. You eagerly nodded your head, making him grin. “Of course you do.” Before he fully entered you, he traced the slit of your entrance with the tip of his dick, teasing himself before he slowly pushed himself inside of you. A drawn-out moan left his lips by the way your walls tightly hugged around him, a soft cuss slipping in between. He slowly and slightly pulled out of you, his cock glistening with the coat of your fluids around him. “I’ve missed you.” He groaned before thrusting in and out of you again. He was going rather slow as if he was savouring every thrust. “My pretty girl.” His hands were on your thighs, keeping your legs up for maximum access. You wanted to hold onto him, digging your nails into his back as your personal mark on him, but his personal handcuffs made that not an option. His thumb found your clit again, making your walls clench around him as he wanted to make you cum again. “Shit-”

“I want to touch you, please Yoongi.” You pleaded as you were tucking on your personal prison.

Heavy breaths left Yoongi’s lips. “Hmh, do you know?” He teased, that menacing smirk plastered on his face again. He slowly slid himself fully into you and you were pretty sure you could feel his tip touching the entrance of your cervix. “Shit-” After that, Yoongi increased his pace and you could already feel your legs shake. Hearing your moans as he filled you up was music to his ears. “And risking you covering your mouth again? No way. I want to hear my girl.” You wanted to tell him you’ll be a good girl and won’t do that, but he upped the pace again, making it hard for you to speak in general. Your tits were bouncing heavily on your chest, which was a beautiful sight to see for Yoongi. He quickly combed his hand through his hair, preventing his hair from blocking the sight he had in front of him. Sweat drops were forming on his forehead, making his hair damp but, fuck, did he look hot right now. Even though Yoongi was mostly focused on his pleasure as he thrust in and out of you, he made sure not to forget about you by the way his thumb was rubbing against your clit, feeling your walls clench around him as you were getting closer to your climax. Your moans were only getting louder, and in the back of your head, you knew you were going to have to explain yourself to your neighbour and friend tomorrow. “I want to feel you cum around my dick.” Yoongi groaned, his rasp indicating he was almost there. He slowed down the pace, focusing more on his finger work so you would get another round of pleasure.

“Oh god-“ You moaned as you felt another wave of ecstasy waiting for you. “Yes, yes-“ It felt as if his thumb was vibrating against your clit, your mind not fully comprehending how the fuck he did that. “I’m gonna-” But instead of the words, the loud moan that left your lips and the way your walls clenched around him, made it clear you reached your peak, making Yoongi increase his paste of fucking you.

The mixture of his postponed climax as protection of his ego and the sounds you were making, made him only seconds away of coming undone. To your surprise, he slid himself out of you, stroking himself down until you felt his cum on you, painting your whole body with it. A loud groan left his throat, head thrown back in pleasure. He stopped jerking himself off, taking a few deep breaths before looking back at you, staring like you were a masterwork. “My favourite looks so beautiful.” He smirked, kissing you softly before untying you. Your wrist hurt from the tightness of his belt, but for some reason, you really didn’t seem to mind. “Let me clean you up first.” Before Yoongi got up to go to the bathroom, he gave you one last kiss on the lips, taking his time before parting lips. You watch him leave the room, quickly finding his way to your bathroom as if he has been here before. You couldn’t sit up straight without making a mess since, yeah, you were covered in cum. It was almost impressive. Yoongi quickly came back, placing himself between your legs again for easy access. He was holding a wet towel, and when he was wiping away his hard work, you noticed he made it lukewarm just for your comfort. As he got you clean again, he leaned in to kiss you again, kissing your neck before kissing your lips. He gently cupped your face in the palm of his hand, looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes as he parted his lips with yours. “You did so good.” He whispered softly, his thumb slightly caressing your cheek.

You placed your hand on his and for some reason, your heart felt heavy. “Please stay the night.” You said with pleading eyes, making Yoongi smile softly at you.

“I had no intention of doing anything else.” He removed himself from the bed, grabbing his briefs again. “You want to wear my T-shirt?” He smiled as he put back his underwear, knowing how much you loved to sleep in them. You happily nodded, putting it on as soon as he handed it to you. Before Yoongi placed himself back next to you, he couldn’t help but notice the wall of pictures on one of y our bedroom walls. And the longer he started down that wall of pictures, the longer he kept staring at one photo in particular. “You still have that picture of us.”

You looked away from Yoongi for a second, even though you knew exactly what photo he was talking about. “Yeah, I do.” It was a selfie you had taken with him, back when the two of you were 17. You could tell you were young by the way you two looked. It just happened to be one of your favourite photos of all time. Not because of quality or how aesthetically pleasing the picture looked, but because it just locked many memories. The most beautiful memories with Yoongi to be exact. That’s when you reminisced about the time with him again. Him waiting after classes so he could walk home with you. He asked if he could do his homework at your place, even though you two did everything besides homework. And just the way he used to love you was so gentle and loving, nothing like he was now. You were his and his only. “It’s one of my favourites, actually.” You just felt a need to say that.

“One of your favourite pictures is one where I’m in the frame?” He teased as he got back in bed with you, pulling you by the waist to have you close to him. He didn’t ask because he thought you were weird for calling a photo with your ex ‘one of your favourites’, but rather out of reassurance that it really was your favourite, even though he was in it.

“Yes, it was before you were a dick” You chuckled, even though you didn’t really mean it. “I have a lot of good memories linked to you, you know. They’re not all bad.” You explained, the tone in your voice slightly saddening as memories and emotions of your breakup entered your head. “Besides, you were my favourite at some point, so it’s not that weird.” That’s when Yoongi’s words from before echoed through your head again. ‘My favourite looks beautiful’ Did he really mean that or was it just a heat of the moment kind of thing?

It was one of the few moments where Yoongi was the one who seemed to want to say something but stayed quiet instead. He seemed…conflicted. There was a brief moment when he looked happy, but then a hint of sadness waved over it. You couldn’t read his emotions and it made you frustrated. “Likewise.” That was all he said, but you knew Yoongi well enough to know that there was more on his mind.

When you woke up the next morning, a lack of a presence beside you made you wake up quicker than usual. After a few blinks, you noticed Yoongi wasn’t lying beside you. You felt your heartache, unknown why he wasn’t there. Your mind went to start thinking of the worst again, but before you could fully feel your heartbreak, you saw a little note on your bedside table. “Had an important meeting. Sorry, I couldn’t stay.” All your worries were suddenly washed over as you read the last sentence. “See you soon though :]” You felt like a teen again by the way you got so excited over a written note, making you put it in your drawer so you wouldn’t lose it. Besides Yoongi’s scent lingering throughout your apartment, you noticed an unfamiliar object lying neatly on your bedside table as well. And that’s when you realized…

Those were the panties you had lost at Hoseok’s party.

Rarely enough, you decided to have your lunch break with Jia. Usually, you would make some lame ass excuse as to why you couldn’t have your break together with her, avoiding any opportunity she could have to talk about Yoongi’s dick again. But today, you felt brave, agreeing you would eat together, making her ecstatic. “Please y/n?! You have to come!” Jia has been desperately trying to convince you to come clubbing with her for the last half hour or so. Guilt brews inside your gut as she’s unknown to the idea of Yoongi and you. How would she even react? She couldn’t be that mad since half of her friends have been sharing him. And the more you started to think about it, the more disturbed you were about that thought. “I bet you’ll love it.”

You doubted that. You enjoyed going home after a long work shift, but she does seem very persistent. Maybe you should go. “Alright…you convinced me.”

“Ugh, finally! You’ll have a great time, I promise! You can even bring your boo Jungkook” She teased before taking a big bite of your lunch, continuing to speak with a full mouth after that.

“Don’t say that-“

“If you don’t want him I sure wouldn’t mind taking a bite of that”

Jesus.

“I’ll ask him.” You smiled, making Jia hug you out of sheer happiness. You felt bad again. You knew Jia liked you, but all you could think about was Yoongi doing the things he did with you yesterday with her. It made you grow resentful towards her, even though she didn’t do anything wrong. You thought maybe, tomorrow, you wouldn’t feel like that anymore. You could see her in another light if it was just you and her and maybe some of her friends. Those friends who probably have had sex with Yoongi too though…No! You were not going to think like this! No man was going to ruin the beautiful opportunity of two women becoming friends. Especially a fuckboy like Yoongi. For a short while you thought you were above casual hookups, but lately you’ve been taking that thought into question.

Before your break was over, you texted the idea to Jungkook, hoping he’d say yes because no way were you going to survive that night without a familiar face. To your surprise, Jungkook wasn’t against the idea of clubbing with you after you texted him. On the contrary, he seemed to be really excited about it, telling you he has always wanted to do something like that with you. This makes you think there must be some underlying motivation for his answer.

Or maybe you were just overthinking it?

Taglist; @flowerblu00, @brinda-9, @seokjinkismet, @sugainmybowl, @mxxxnshine @arianalilyblack

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nelapanela94 · 2 years ago

Note

Emotional and fluff for mother's days

Can you please wite smth about how Levi overhears some kids talking about mother's day for the first time, so he asks his lover/wife about it and she describes what it's for and all that but she notice a hint of sadness in his eyes once she's done so she sneakily asks levi to describe what his mum looked like and she uses her secret talent to sketch her and gift it to him on mother's day?🥺🙏🏻

As the first rays of the morning sun creep over the horizon, a vibrant tapestry of colors and scents begin to unfurl at the heart of the quaint village. The Farmers' Market, a bustling and lively spectacle, comes alive with an enchanting allure that drew locals and travelers alike into its embrace.

Trost’s atmosphere buzzes with an energy that pulses like the beating heart of the countryside. The laughter of children chasing butterflies, the rhythmic clucking of contented hens, and the light tinkle of wind chimes hanging from makeshift stalls blended harmoniously with the hum of eager conversations and the occasional pluck of guitar strings.

Crisp, ruby-red apples glisten like polished jewels, beckoning passersby to taste their sweet, orchard-kissed flavors. Swirling pyramids of golden honey drip lazily from the combs, offering a taste of sunlit meadows and blooming wildflowers. Piles of vibrant heirloom tomatoes, like a painter's palette, display a spectrum of colors that ranged from blush pink to deep emerald green.

The old lady smiles, and the coins clank on the palm of his hand. Levi gives her a nod and casts the ghost of a smirk for the free apple she sneaked in his order. He slings the bag on his shoulder and crosses out tomatoes from the list. Summer accentuates the colors of the Earth, but also spurs sweat through his pores. A map is drawing on the back of his shirt and the stickiness is wrecking his nerves. He folds the list and slips it into his pocket as he heads to the spices and herbs stall. The Scouts budget for tea is a joke, and no it is not a whim from him at all to demand quality. Those boors with underdeveloped taste buds don’t know how to appreciate the true pleasures of life.

A riot of brats who can’t wipe their ass cracks hustle around the flower girl who is giving away red roses like the one pinned on her head. Tiny dirty hands tugging at the hem of her dress as if she were a fairy who will grant them wishes. With the flower in hand, the kids scamper away like bees from the honeycomb straight to their mother’s skirts.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” they chirp, and tender lips pepper their heads with kisses in return.

Mother’s Day?

His lips curve in a small longing smile.

It is noon when he drops the bags on the kitchen counter, and you sweeten him with a kiss. “How was it? I’m sorry for the long list, but we were running out of everything.”

“Good.” He plucks the apple from his pocket and hands it over to you. “This is for you.”

“Aren’t you the sweetest?” You ruffle his hair and then begin to fill the pleading pantries while Levi cools down with a pint. He looks down to the curlicues on the wood, reading them as if they were a path to treasure, his cheek straining on the back of his hand.

“Are you alright, cinnamon roll?” You tilt your head to the side, raising a brow in concern. “Do you have a fever?” You rush and press your hand to his forehead, wheedling a chuckle from him.

“I’m not sick.” He takes your hand and drops a kiss on your knuckles. “It’s just…” He sighs and picks up, embarrassed for not acknowledging what’s obvious for everyone else. “I overheard some kids in the market… what are we celebrating today?”

You glimpse over at the calendar on the wall. “Oh! It’s Mother’s Day! I utterly forgot about it.” Your shoulders slump. “I should’ve sent a letter on Thursday. Do you think she’ll forgive me for sending it late?”

You meet his eyes, but confusion is slathered all over his face.

And realization dawns. He never had the chance to celebrate the occasion in the first place.

From behind, you wrap your arms around him and kiss the back of his head. “Every year we celebrate Mother’s Day as a way to honor the sacrifices mothers make for their children. We visit them or invite them over for lunch or dinner or give presents like roses or jewelry to remind them how grateful we are. No matter where they are, they are always caring about us.”

Tears roll down his cheeks, you can feel them dripping from his chin to your arms.

You gingerly ask, “do you remember what she looked like?”

Levi shakes his head. His memories are blurry except for a few details. “She smelled nice.” He gulps and dries his tears with the sleeve. “Long black hair, soft light-honeyed eyes…” He closes the eyes, and you just listen, grasping as much as you can.

While Levi is grooming and feeding the horses, you sit at your studio, the charcoal tip scraping the paper as you print the description he gave you. As the portrait takes shape, more and more, you can spot him in his mother’s face.

The afternoon begins cooling, the tree leaves sway rhythmically on the soft breeze.

You dust off the rubber debris and smirk with satisfaction. That’s when you hear steps growing louder on your back. A blush tinges your cheeks.

“What were you doing?”

“I… well…”

He peers over your shoulder and tears glisten in his eyes. “Can I take a closer look?” His voice fractures as he sniffs to contain the tears from falling.

“Sure, it’s all yours.” You smile warmly and give him some time with his mom. “I’ll make dinner. Take as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” he mouths as you close the door behind you.

He had long forgotten how close the resemblance was. The eyes, the lashes, the eyebrows, her lips, you grasped everything he said and brought her back for him to tell her he loves her. Fragments of his memory play on the back of his head from those old days, and it’s not the grime, or the stench, or the moldy bread. He remembers her soft voice cooing lullabies, the warmth of her chest guarding him from any harm, the stories she told before bed, the kisses attack on his belly. Life is not so bad with someone who loves you.

He was her only reason to endure the woes of that nightmarish life.

He mutters, "Happy Mother's Day."

#levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #snk levi #levi aot #aot #levi x reader #levi x you

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ohsomightypeaches · 2 years ago

Text

I'm late 😩😩😩😩

Joel is sleeping - which is not something that could be said until a couple of months ago.

🥹 look at my feral cat man ✨️resting✨️

He goads her with a smirk. ‘To be honest, it looks like you threw up in the pan.’

💀💀💀 joel no

‘Calcium,’ she shoots back without even looking up, too busy shoving the rest of her breakfast into her mouth, stuffing her cheeks like a chipmunk.

Ellie no 💀💀💀💀

He shakes his head, slowly finishing his breakfast - like he wishes he did that day.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

To his chagrin, Ellie admits freely that she lied about the time so they wouldn’t be late. He’s a punctual guy, thank you very much. He certainly doesn’t need to be schooled by the little brat.

LOL 🥺 its cute tho shes excited

She eyes Lucy cautiously, lips pinched to one side. ‘Where’s Pin?’

🤣 i will now dub her feral kitten. She doesnt gaf and i love that 😌

‘Don’t be, I was exactly like her when I was younger. Still am sometimes,’ she jokes. Then with a sly side eye, she remarks, ‘And honestly, you look more disappointed that I showed up than she does.’

LOL!!!

Joel hesitates for just a second, and Lucy bursts into laughter, elbowing him teasingly. ‘The way your face fell! I’m joking, Miller. Relax.’

LOL if you keep this up he might never come back

She shrugs. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’

Lucy LOL

‘She lives in the yellow cottage on the same street as the shoe shop. Keep going north, you can’t miss it,’ she says with a two-finger salute and a parting line that he’s heard before. ‘Say hi to Pin for me!’

Good looking out Lucy. I love how everyone knows.

He waves away your apology. ‘Count yourself lucky. She was just ‘bout bouncin’ off the walls.’

Aw my excited feral kitten 🥹

LOL I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE

He huffs, squinting up at you through the sun. ‘You’re hard to please, sweetheart.’

😌 good for her lol

He clearly mistakes your gawking for something else, flashing you an apologetic smile at his state. ‘Sorry, I work up a sweat real easy.’

👀 mmhmmmmm

Suddenly, you’re parched. But you don’t trust yourself to stay upright, let alone pour yourself a drink.

He wears the early summer tan so well, and for the first time since the outbreak, you think about the swim club in your old neighbourhood. Watching the water drip off his skin, it’s not a stretch to imagine this man pulling himself out of the pool after a quick dip to cool down, before stretching out on a sunlounger to dry in the sun - all in slow motion, set to the track of a corny sax riff.

What a description 👏👏👏👏👏👏

‘You basically got Ellie outta my hair every Saturday for the next few months, so I’ll have plenty of time to kill,’ he half-jokes.

OH I CAN HELP YOU KILL SOME TIME

Finally shedding that last bit of shyness holding you back, you retort with no real bite, ‘You’re such a tease, Miller.’

He knows what hes doing

‘You can shower here,’ you interrupt, stumbling over your words in your haste. ‘I have a spare shirt somewhere.’

👀 atta girl - okay but like since its during apocalypse SHOULD WE NOT CONSERVE WATER AND SHOWER PERHAPS ✨️TOGETHER✨️ dont mind me im parched too.

‘Never.’

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

He lets the word wash over him, appeasing the beast in him for now. With a slow nod, he takes three measured steps towards you, stopping just an arm’s length away. Gently coaxing you to let go of the purple tshirt, he snorts at the huge Lakers logo blazoned across the front.

lol not the lakers shirt making an appearance

Backed into a corner - and you’re not proud of it - you lie. Outrageously. ‘I don’t know how it got in there.'

SURE 😏 we believe you

Joel looks taken aback. ‘My belly?’

Lol i see that caught him off guard

You grin. ‘Yes, and your confidence. You walk differently now, you know.’

WE LOVE AND APPRECIATE THE TUMMY IN THIS HOUSE 🙏🙌🔥

His eyes dip downwards and slowly, over the curve of your breasts and the arch of your back. With an encouraging smile, he argues, ‘I’m not sure about that. Looks like your body’s reactin’ perfectly to me.’

🔥🔥 JOEL

His roguish grin has you squirming and fisting the sheets underneath you. ‘I dunno. Somethin’ tells me you like it.’

YES oop was that too enthusiastic? Let me try that again ✨️✨️YES✨️✨️

One day.

Oooooof the power of these two words.

He drapes a heavy arm over you and pulls back you flush into him. ‘Well, these jeans are fuckin’ ruined. I want a refund.’

💀💀

‘I’m afraid we don’t accept cum-stained returns. Store policy.’

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

This being Joel Miller in a purple tshirt with a tacky logo she doesn’t recognise printed on the front and khaki cargo shorts that cut off at the knees, holding a basket of vegetables that she’s pretty sure he doesn’t eat.

LOL!!!!! She even gave him veggies

Jogging to keep up, she cackles, ‘Hey, did you fall into a wormhole and went shopping at a farmer’s market in 1999?’

HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA

Across the street, unbeknownst to the pair, Tommy smiles to himself as he watches his big brother laugh, really laugh - the kind that has him doubling over and gasping for air through watery eyes. For the first time since the world ended, he looks up at the sky with a reassuring nod, and he knows deep down - Joel will be just fine.

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

I love this AU where Joel is actually living

IV ║ Notch

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part III: Edgestitch | Behind the Seams: Part IV | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E, but not that explicit

Summary: While Ellie works her first shift at the Outfitters, Joel drops by yours to return the blouse you left behind at the baby shower. Turns out, there's plenty around the house to keep him occupied until the teenager clocks off.

Warnings: Sexual tension, body insecurity, some language, inaccurate descriptions of gardening, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, undervest supremacy, flirting, dry humping, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!domestic!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 8.9k

Notes: Once I started writing this chapter in earnest, it came together a bit more quickly than I expected! It's extremely self-indulgent, with plenty of white undervest and belly action because you guys deserve all of that goodness for being the most patient, loving readers a writer could hope for 🥹 Thank you, I love you all! ❤️

Notch – diamond shaped marks that stick out beyond the edge of the pattern to line up all the pieces when sewing the garment. They come in pairs to be matched up.

Joel is sleeping - which is not something that could be said until a couple of months ago.

After the outbreak, sleep as a concept ceased to exist. What took its place is literal ‘shuteye’, either engineered by pills knocked back with moonshine, or a preventative shutdown by his body to avoid total failure, having pushed his physical form to the living limit.

It’s the kind of sleep that is destitute and provides no relief. It keeps the cogs turning just enough that he doesn’t expire, standing in his boots - which, on most days, are not the only things held together by duct tape.

But after the hospital, even that turned out to be too much to ask for. Some nights, the itch for chemical-induced relief got so bad that Joel entertained the thought of asking Tommy for illicit pills, ready to crawl on all fours to his brother’s house two streets down because he was shaking so hard he couldn’t lock his knees. But he didn’t trust him not to tell Maria, and with Ellie in the picture, he wasn’t about to tempt fate.

So instead, he asked Maria to assign him to night patrols. She hmmm’d at his request like she knew something he didn’t, but she humoured him, letting him take the graveyard shift for a couple of weeks straight. She didn’t have to tell him that she could see the way he tripped over his own feet and hear the slur in his voice. She’s too sharp not to notice.

But she didn’t say anything.

What she did do though, was not so subtly wean him off the late-night patrols. It started with a couple of random, last-minute changes, and then the next thing he knew, he was working morning shifts exclusively. When he tried covertly swapping stints with another guy, he showed up at the guard tower at midnight to find his sister-in-law standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her pregnant belly.

As he trudged home begrudgingly with his head down and her stern reprimand in his ears, he couldn’t help a chuckle. Gotta hand it to her.

Banished back to his bed, Joel went back to staring owlishly at the ceiling, watching the moonlight slide across the plaster until he knew all the cracks in it with his eyes closed (metaphorically). He’d listen to Ellie snoring away two doors down and marvel at the fact that she somehow still slept like the dead, even after… all that.

And then, one night, it happened for him too.

Admittedly, he ate a bit too much at Tommy and Maria’s - on top of running the town like a well-oiled machine, she makes a mean chicken fried steak - and Ellie had not so subtly plonked a second helping on his plate without asking. He was lying in bed, steeling himself for another long night, when his eyes drooped. The motion was so alien that it jolted him wide awake, but he couldn’t shake the weight that clung to the seams of his lashes. The next time he opened his eyes, it was morning.

Turns out you can teach an old dog new tricks.

It’s nowhere near consistent, and more often than not he wakes up in a cold sweat in the small hours, but in between, he’s sleeping. For once, he’s feeling rested. And it’s a nice fucking break from the relentless exhaustion that he’s convinced is fused into his bones.

He always wakes up earlier than Ellie though. She never stomps down the stairs until he’s already had breakfast, and hers has gone cold.

So on the Saturday morning following the baby shower, with his face plastered into the mattress, body curled around a pillow - old habits die hard - Joel nearly falls out of bed at the banging on his door.

‘Joel! Get the fuck up!’

For one disconcerting moment between sleep and wake, he’s in his bedroom back in Texas. He half expects to look up to see the posters on the wall and the perpetually overflowing laundry basket at the foot of his bed.

Blinking through the urge to close his eyes, the colours fade and he stares blearily at the digital clock on his bedside table.

7:30.

What the fuck? More often than not he has to drag the teenager out of bed by the ankles, kicking and swearing, at 7:50 to get to school at 8:00.

His knees groan as he staggers onto his feet, grabbing yesterday’s jeans from the floor and pulling them on. He finds a passably clean shirt about five deep on a chair, which he shrugs on over his white undervest. With a grunt, he yanks open the door and heads downstairs on bare feet, frowning at unfamiliar sounds coming from the kitchen.

Joel pauses in the doorway, hands on hips. ‘What do you think you’re doin’?’

Deeming his question unworthy of a response, Ellie tosses him a roll of her eyes over her shoulder and resolutely ignores him.

Shuffling closer, he asks, ‘Are you - cookin’?’

Brandishing the spatula at him, she snarls, ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’

He goads her with a smirk. ‘To be honest, it looks like you threw up in the pan.’

Ellie elbows him hard in the stomach. ‘Fuck you, man!’

He grins. There’s nothing like winding her up first thing in the morning. Grabbing the pan, he bins the ruined eggs, scraping off the burnt bits stuck to the bottom. ‘Crack some more eggs, I’ll make ‘em.’

Ten minutes later, in their usual seats at the kitchen table, they tuck into scrambled eggs and buttered toast.

‘Slow down,’ warns Joel as Ellie wolfs down hers. ‘You’re gonna choke.’

‘You hurry up! Can’t be late for my first day,’ she garbles through a mouthful of food.

‘Why can’t you be like this about school?’ he grumbles, then he winces as his teeth catch something crunchy. Picking it out, he gives her a pointed look. ‘Eggshell.’

‘Calcium,’ she shoots back without even looking up, too busy shoving the rest of her breakfast into her mouth, stuffing her cheeks like a chipmunk.

That one word stops Joel in his tracks and hurls him twenty years back in time.

But then Ellie is jumping up and practically throwing her empty plate into the sink, sneakers squeaking on the tiled floor as she dashes out of the kitchen. ‘C’mon, old man!’

Joel smiles, the memory warm like sun on his face.

He shakes his head, slowly finishing his breakfast - like he wishes he did that day.

They turn out to be fifteen minutes early.

To his chagrin, Ellie admits freely that she lied about the time so they wouldn’t be late. He’s a punctual guy, thank you very much. He certainly doesn’t need to be schooled by the little brat.

Joel sits on the stairs, while Ellie has her face squished up against the door, unabashedly leaving smudges on the glass panels as she keeps up an uninterrupted running commentary on every last piece of clothing she can see.

He tunes her out easily, shifting in his seat so that his right ear is to the door. In his hands is the blouse that you left behind at Tommy and Maria’s at the baby shower. He’s been meaning to return it to you, but the week got away from him, and there’s no time like the present.

Considering the state of his knees, he impresses himself with the speed at which he stands at the sound of footsteps on the otherwise quiet main street. Squaring his shoulders, he discreetly pulls on his shirt, suddenly seeing wrinkles everywhere in the fabric, and runs his fingers through his hair, wishing he’d taken another look in the mirror before he left the house -

But it’s Lucy who appears at the bottom of the stairs with her unfailingly sunny smile.

‘Hi, you must be Ellie,’ she chirps.

She eyes Lucy cautiously, lips pinched to one side. ‘Where’s Pin?’

Joel growls. ‘Manners.’

Ellie puts her hands up in surrender. ‘Sorry. I meant - nice to meet you, where’s Pin?’

Lucy beams good-naturedly and fiddles with the lock. ‘She’s off today, and it’s all my fault because I made her work three weekends in a row. You’ll be helping me in the front anyway, so I’ll show you the ropes.’ Stepping aside and swinging the door open, she prompts, ‘In you go now, hon.’

Ellie doesn’t even look back at him, rushing into the shop like a thoroughbred fresh out of the starting gates.

Pocketing the keys, Lucy smiles. ‘Hi Joel.’

‘Hey,’ he nods back. ‘Sorry about Ellie.’

He splutters, ‘Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.’

She smirks knowingly, gesturing at the blouse clutched tightly in his left fist. ‘I can pass that to Pin for ya.’

Joel hesitates for just a second, and Lucy bursts into laughter, elbowing him teasingly. ‘The way your face fell! I’m joking, Miller. Relax.’

He shakes his head. ‘It’s fine, guess I’ll give it to her next time she’s ‘round.’

Just then, from the depths of the shop, Ellie gasps dramatically and yells at the top of her lungs, ‘I want thissssssss one!’

Meeting Lucy’s eyes, Joel asks, ‘Sure you gonna be ok left alone with her?’

She shrugs. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’

He flashes her a thumbs up. ‘I’ll pick her up at three then.’

He’s about to walk away from the Outfitters when Lucy’s voice stops him. ‘Hey, Joel!’

Looking up at the wraparound porch, he raises an eyebrow in a silent question.

You’ve always had a soft spot for the turn of the season, when late spring blooms graciously give way to summer buds. The grass smells greener, and the air is pregnant with pollen and nectar. It’s not overly warm yet, but you can feel the intensity in the sunlight, muted only by the early hour. Good thing you’re starting early.

It’s unseasonably warm for June, and the vegetable patch on the far end of your garden has suddenly burst into life. The cauliflower has finally come through after two failed crops in a row, and both the tomato vines and pepper plants are thriving. Closer to the ground, the onion and garlic shoots are patiently waiting to be pulled, and asparagus shoots spear through the earth in tidy lines one after another.

Pulling on a hat and gloves, you get to work.

You’re halfway through the second row of onions when there’s a faint knock on the front door. Even though you’ve only been in the sun for a little while, the coolness inside the house feels like a balm to your skin as you pad inside, peeling off your gloves before reaching for the door.

Swinging it open, you’re stumped by the sight of Joel Miller on your doorstep.

You haven’t seen him since the party, where you’d agreed on a start date and time for Ellie’s first shift, and -

Since the kiss.

You’ve felt his absence keenly. You’ve caught yourself loitering on street corners, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, knowing you’ll be able to spot him just by the way his shoulders swing with his long strides. You’ve kept an ear out for the southern lilt that has chased goosebumps across your skin, or any mention of his name, but all in vain.

Jackson has a habit of growing in size, usually in direct proportion to one’s desperation.

Now that he’s somehow here, you’re aware you’re gaping at him, so broad that his shoulders are blocking out the daylight. Too many years out of practice to count, you have no idea what the protocol is when you next see the man who literally made your knees buckle with just his lips and nothing else.

‘Mornin’, he finally says with a small smile.

You stammer. ‘H-hello. What, um, I mean, how -’

‘I dropped off Ellie at the shop and Lucy told me where you live,’ he explains, shaking out the blouse in his hands. ‘Thought I’d come ‘round and return this.’

Your palm twitches with the urge to smack yourself on the forehead. Of course that’s why he’s here.

Taking the top from him, you smile back gratefully. ‘Thank you. And of course, it’s Ellie’s first day. I’m sorry I can’t be there, but I’ve been subbing for Lucy on the weekends for a month straight and I needed a break.’

He waves away your apology. ‘Count yourself lucky. She was just ‘bout bouncin’ off the walls.’

‘Bless her heart,’ you chuckle, breaking off when his eyes flicker over you, as if he’s just registered your very minimalist ensemble of a white cotton tank top and denim cut-offs. Your skin prickles under his scrutiny, flattery winning out against self-consciousness at the deliberate drag of his gaze over you, a thoughtful weight behind it.

That is until something catches his attention, and you flinch when he peers under the brim of your hat. ‘What -’

Before you can even articulate your question, he’s taken one step towards you, his work boots heavy on your creaky wooden porch. His voice is low but rough around the edges, just the way you like it.

‘You got some dirt -’ he swipes his index finger firmly on the end of your nose. ‘Right here.’

Your jaw hangs open, then clamps shut, in quick succession, the shell of your ears burning hot at his fleeting touch. Throat suddenly dry, you barely manage to squeak, ‘Thanks.’

One day, you will at least try and keep your cool around this man. But alas, it is not this day.

Rearranging himself, Joel leans on the doorframe with his arms crossed and remarks conversationally, ‘You look outdoorsy this mornin’.’

Flashing the soil-stained gloves at him, you try to keep your voice steady. ‘I’m just doing some gardening out back. The vegetable patch needs harvesting.’

He purses his lips at that. ‘Didn’t peg you as the gardenin’ type.’

You don’t know where the bravado comes from, but you swat him on the arm with the gloves and quip, ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me.’

‘You got me there,’ he huffs a laugh and gestures towards the back of the house. ‘Anythin’ I can do to help?’

The refusal is on the tip of your tongue. You don’t say yes to a whole lot nowadays, other than when Lucy makes you. But then you hear yourself ask, a challenge in your voice that you didn’t know you had. ‘I don’t know. Are you any good with your hands, Joel Miller?’

At the boldness in your words, which you don’t take back, Joel’s eyebrows reach for his hairline. Biting your lip but standing your ground, you watch him grind his jaw as he considers his response.

‘Why don’t you try me, sweetheart?’

‘Like this?’

‘Wait - slow down.’

A shuffle of hands. ‘How about now?’

‘That’s it. Yes, that’s good. Keep going.’

A raspy grunt. ‘I think I’m almost there.’

‘Yeah, that’s right, don’t stop -’

‘Alright, you ready?’

‘Come on, Joel -’

With one last flick, the knife slices clean through the base of the stalk, and Joel plucks the cauliflower head out of its leafy cradle with a triumphant grin.

‘How’s that for good hands, huh?’ he crows.

‘I’ll get back to you in the fall when we see if the cauliflower grows back,’ you tease.

He huffs, squinting up at you through the sun. ‘You’re hard to please, sweetheart.’

You preen at the playful turn of the conversation. If you were a little braver, you’d give him a mischievous wink - but for now, you gesture at the patch. ‘Can you handle the rest? I’ll get started on the peppers.’

He nods. ‘Leave ‘em with me.’

The pepper plants are having a great season, standing at four feet tall and heaving with fruits. You’ve left them alone on the vine for the last three weeks to sweeten, and they have dutifully ripened into a beautiful red. Settling onto your knees, you methodologically comb through the peppers from top to bottom, cutting off each one by the stalks.

It’s a big harvest, half of which you plan on giving away to your neighbours in exchange for their berries and lemons. Some you will cook. Lucy is due to come over for dinner, and she loves your stuffed pepper recipe. The rest you’ll have to find time to roast, skin, deseed and preserve in oil, which will last the rest of the year -

A shadow falls over you, stilling your hands and drawing your eyes upwards.

The sight is familiar - feet planted shoulder-wide by your knees, chin tucked in as he stares down at you, your nose level with the front of the jeans that you picked out for him - you’ve seen it all before, except for one small detail.

Joel is sweating. A lot.

His thin plaid shirt - you’re not sure if you’ve seen him in anything else yet - is sticking to him like a second skin, clinging to the solid outline of his biceps as he holds onto the basket full of cauliflower heads. The sunlight glances off the perspiration dotting his hairline, and the wispy grays that normally curl away from his face have wilted in the humidity.

There’s a flush under his skin as he swipes at his forehead with his shirt sleeve, and your gaze follows a bead of sweat dripping down the prominent vein on the side of his neck, and into the deep V of his shirt - wait, is that the outline of an undervest that you can just make out underneath -

‘Should I take the cauliflower in?’

‘Um -’ you stammer to a halt, eyes still plastered to the front of his chest, just like his shirt.

He clearly mistakes your gawking for something else, flashing you an apologetic smile at his state. ‘Sorry, I work up a sweat real easy.’

Oh, come on. Now all you’re thinking about is how else he works up a sweat -

Seized by the sudden need to get out of the heat in more than one sense of the word, you rip the basket from his grasp and turn on your heels to sprint into the house with a choked, ‘I’ll be right back!’

You nearly trip over your own feet running into the kitchen, your heart thumping so loudly in its ribcage it feels like the whole house is shaking to the beat.

And all that man has done is sweat in front of you.

‘Pull yourself together, Pin,’ you mutter to yourself as you tip the cauliflower heads onto the kitchen table. Grabbing a jug from the cupboard, you put it in the sink and turn on the faucet. Watching the trickle of water, you make yourself take three deep breaths.

Joel’s kind enough to do you a favour, you could at least have the courtesy to not perv on him while he helps you out.

Nodding determinedly to yourself, you pluck two glasses from the drying rack, putting them inside the empty basket that you hook on your elbow, and march back outside -

Only to almost swallow your tongue and drop the full jug of water right at your feet.

Joel’s sweat-soaked shirt is now hanging on your washing line like a white flag, having surrendered to the heat. And just like that, the very image that has been inconveniently seared into the back of your eyes since the party is suddenly before you in all its glory, in the morning sun, out in the open air.

The white undervest stretches over the breadth of him, and if he didn’t look so good in it, you would’ve laughed at the comical way the flimsy straps are clinging onto his shoulders for dear life. Then he bends over to inspect the tomato vines, the bottom of his vest riding up with the movement, teasing a flash of skin above the waistline of the jeans pulled tight over his behind. One big hand reaches out, the outline of his arm flexing as he does, and he palms the bottom of one tomato, testing if it’s ripe for the picking.

Except in your head, it’s something else he’s cupping with such rapturous attention.

He doesn’t notice you until he stands up with a low grunt of effort. Pointing an apologetic finger at his shirt, he says, ‘I hope you don’t mind, I’m sweatin’ right through it like nobody’s business.’

You make a noise in your throat that you pass off as an answer, and with shaky hands, pour him a full glass of water which you shove in his direction.

‘Appreciate it, sweetheart.’ He salutes you and takes a long drag, tipping his head back. You watch, transfixed, as the sunlight bounces off the lines of sweat criss-crossing down the strong column of his neck, and the hard bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.

Suddenly, you’re parched. But you don’t trust yourself to stay upright, let alone pour yourself a drink.

‘It’s hot today,’ Joel breaks the loaded silence, though it’s possible that it’s unilaterally so on your side.

‘Uh-huh,’ you croak, still holding onto the water jug like a shield.

He peers at you with a touch of mischief. ‘You ain’t gonna swoon or anythin’ are you?’

Probably. And definitely not for the reason he has in mind.

You attempt a weak smile that may have come off as a grimace. ‘I’ll try not to.’

Reassured, he nods towards the garlic patch. ‘C’mon. Let’s get our hands dirty, sweetheart.’

By the time the vegetable patch has been thoroughly picked and the baskets crammed full, the sun is high in the sky, the morning clouds burned off with the heat.

Joel isn’t the only one who’s sweating through his clothes - your light cotton top is now clinging uncomfortably to your skin, sweat dripping down your sternum and dampening the cups of your bra. You heave a sigh of relief when he helps you move the haul to a shaded corner near the porch where you have an outdoor sink and wheel hose installed.

Emptying the root vegetables into the sink, Joel steps back and casts a critical eye over the rain gutters that line the eaves of your house. Fingers spread over one jutting hip, he leans his weight on his right leg, the stance creating all kinds of angles that are completely unnecessary in this kind of heat.

He points at the leaves and branches that are clearly sticking out from the channels, but you’re only really interested in studying his large hands. The bumps and veins on the back of them, the watch with the broken face on his left wrist, the dirt coating his thick fingers, pushed under tidily trimmed nails. The logical thought that follows is how he would leave dark streaks on your white top when he pulls you in by the waist -

‘Looks like the gutters need cleanin’,’ Joel declares.

Well, the gutter your head is currently dunked in can certainly do with a good scrub.

‘Rainy season doesn’t start for another few months, they can wait.’

He uh-uh's sternly. ‘I’ve heard that before. Do you have a ladder?’

‘You really don’t have to -’ you protest, but he won’t hear it.

‘It’s no big deal, I’m sweaty anyway,’ he replies. ‘Besides, you’ll be doing me a favour keepin’ me occupied. I don’t pick Ellie up till three.’

You bite your lip. ‘But I feel bad working you so hard.’

Without skipping a beat, he winks. ‘Don’t worry your pretty head, sweetheart - I like workin’ for it.’

Jesus Christ. This man needs to be locked up and the key thrown to a colony of clickers.

The inner contractor in Joel comes out to play as he climbs deftly up the extension ladder propped up against the eaves, gloves on and a tarp bag tied to the top rung for collecting the debris. Discreetly, you shuffle around the freestanding sink so that you have a clear view of him as you turn on the water and start washing the dirt off the onions.

He’s starting close by, just a couple of feet away from you, patiently scooping out the dead leaves and twigs by the handful. Up on the ladder with his side to you, you’re eye level with the swell of his belly, which stretches the seams of the vest, and the underside of it peeks out every time he reaches up for the gutters. Your cheeks warm with the memory of how the soft folds felt against you, so warm and solid that you ache to reach out, push the flimsy vest up and nuzzle the tender skin with your nose -

It takes you a couple of minutes to realise that you’re not even pretending to be washing the onions anymore, the hose running in your idle grasp as you stare, head cocked to one side.

You don’t hear him when he turns to you. ‘Can pass me the hose?’

You stare dumbly back at him. ‘Huh?’

‘The hose, Pin,’ he repeats, a playful condescension in his smirk, like he knows exactly what you’ve been looking at. ‘That onion looks sparkly clean.’

You’re not sure what happened. One second you’re holding onto the hose with the intention of turning off the water before passing it to Joel, but your brain skips that crucial first step, and the next thing you know, you’re pointing it straight at him, spraying him in water from face to chest.

As he splutters, you shove the hose into the sink and screech, mortified. ‘Oh my god! I’m so sorry!’

You watch in horror as the water trickles from his hair, down his stubbled chin and onto his chest - okay, that’s a lie. It’s definitely not horror that’s twisting in your tummy and then much, much lower between your thighs.

And if you thought this man looked good sweaty, well - you’ve seen nothing yet.

He might as well put you out of your misery and take off his undervest right about now. It’s completely see-through, pebbled nipples and the firm ridges of his pecs showing through the wet fabric, rounded out by the endearing soft pouch of his belly.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say on reflex, but the apology rings hollow with the way your gaze lingers over his chest, and he notices.

He chuckles, carding one hand through his wet hair to slick it back, standing taller under your eyes. ‘As I said - never a dull moment with you, sweetheart.’

Joel takes his time, clearing out all the blockages and hosing the gutters clean so that you don’t have to worry about them for another six months. He dumps the leaves and sticks in the compost post, rinses the soiled gloves and his hands clean, before taking his shirt off the washing line and heading into the blessed shade.

He finds you in the kitchen, back to the door, putting away clean plates and cutlery from the drying rack, porcelain knocking together and metal clanging.

This is the most he’s seen of you, in a tank top and shorts, bathed in light spilling in from the large windows that open out into the backyard. He sees touches of your workshop right here in the kitchen - dried herbs and seasoning in mismatched but tidy boxes on the shelves, knives organised by size on a magnetic knife block, plates and bowls arranged in neat stacks behind glass cabinets.

Not wanting to alarm you, he deliberately scrapes his shoe on the tiled floor to make his presence known.

Whipping around - and just a touch startled - you smile with a quiet hey, and Joel’s not sure if he’ll ever get over how the sweet shyness still clings to the curve of your lips despite the fact that he’s kissed you right there.

He stays by the door for now and says, ‘I put the ladder back, and the gutters are all done, but I spotted some shingles missing on the roof while I was up there. I’ll come back to fix ‘em some other time.’

‘Thank you so much Joel, but really, don’t worry about the roof. You’ve done enough.’

‘You basically got Ellie outta my hair every Saturday for the next few months, so I’ll have plenty of time to kill,’ he half-jokes.

A comfortable lull sets in, and he looks up at the ticking clock, surprised that it’s almost noon. Shifting his feet, he opens his mouth and is about to excuse himself when you blurt out, ‘I’m sorry I soaked you.’

The jury's out on who's more taken aback by your phrasing. Exasperated, you groan, ‘I did not mean to say that.’

Joel’s kept a respectful distance since he arrived at the house, the pliant weight of you in his arms and your taste on his tongue kept firmly at bay in the back of his mind, not wanting to bring up anything that would make you uncomfortable in the light of day. But now, he pushes himself off the threshold of the door and crosses the cosy kitchen, pleased that you stay put when he plants himself in front of you, toe to toe.

Brushing a finger under your chin so that you’re staring up at him, he deliberately pitches his voice low and gruff, the double entendre almost crude in its delivery. ‘Just so we’re clear, you can soak me any time, sweetheart, in any way you want.’

Your lips part and your gaze darkens, and he feels his body instinctively react, invisible threads reeling him bodily into you. When you speak, your voice quivers, his name at once a single-worded reprimand and a needy whine that takes him right back to his brother’s spare bedroom. ‘Joel -’

‘Yes, Pin?’ he baits you playfully, just like he did that night, taking one last step so that you’re crowded against the countertop, bookending you with his palms planted on the wooden surface.

Finally shedding that last bit of shyness holding you back, you retort with no real bite, ‘You’re such a tease, Miller.’

‘Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it,’ he quips easily, his attention on your mouth. He hears your shaky intake of air, the whole moment suspended on tenterhooks as you skirt each other on the brink -

Just then, a breeze drifts in from the open window above the sink, providing instant relief from the humidity that hangs heavy in the air. All of a sudden, he’s acutely aware of the fact that he’s sweaty all over, so much so that he might actually smell.

Self-conscious, he clears his throat and murmurs ‘I should probably go, I need a shower and a change of clothes -’

‘You can shower here,’ you interrupt, stumbling over your words in your haste. ‘I have a spare shirt somewhere.’

You don’t need to ask him twice.

He smiles. ‘Sounds good, sweetheart.’

Your ensuite bathroom, like what he has seen of your house, is clean and organised. There’s a neat stockpile of soap bars in the cupboard, and he spots the familiar bottles of regulation shampoo and toothpaste that the town mass produces.

The water is plenty hot as he efficiently lathers himself top to bottom and front to back, but the pressure is a bit weak for his liking and can be easily fixed. Something else to add to the list.

The towel you left on the rack is soft and smells like the sun. Patting himself dry and rubbing it through his hair, he wipes away the condensation off the mirror above the sink. He peers at his reflection, ruminating that it’s time for a shave, and pushes back his wet hair so the strands don’t get in his eyes.

Out of his clothes, only his jeans are passably dry, so he forgoes his boxers and pulls them on, carefully doing up the zipper. Using his shirt as a sling, he bundles up all the dirty clothes and opens the bathroom door.

He catches you coming into the bedroom as he steps out, and your jaw drops at the sight of him in just his jeans before you slap your palms dramatically over your eyes, the tshirt you’re holding onto covering your whole face and muffling your voice. ‘I’m so sorry! I should’ve knocked!’

Joel chuckles at your reaction. ‘Sweetheart, it's your house. And I’m not exactly naked.’

Lowering your hands sheepishly, you still clutch the tshirt to your chest like a security blanket, admitting, ‘Sorry, I just - I just realised I’ve never had a man in here before.’

Something wraps itself around his stomach and pulls, and it takes him a beat to put a name to it because it’s been so long. It’s possessiveness that rushes through his veins and goes straight to his head, and he has to bite the inside of his mouth to keep his voice from wavering. He demands, ‘Never?’

‘Never.’

He quips, ‘I’m more of a Longhorns fan myself, actually.’

The tension cracks, and you grin back, ‘Well, not anymore.’

After your confession, it’s probably redundant, but he wants to hear you say it. Flashing the tshirt at you, he asks, ‘Old boyfriend’s?’

It’s the most personal question that’s been exchanged between you so far by a mile, and it’s probably none of his business, but you can’t explain why your pulse spikes at the way his normally warm gaze hardens with something unfamiliar.

‘No,’ you answer. ‘I keep some of the stock here when there’s not enough room at the shop, that’s all.’

Joel rasps, ‘Good.’

With that one syllable, his shoulders visibly relax, suddenly drawing your attention to his topless form, which you’ve been too mortified to actually look at. It’s a lot to take in, and even though you’ve seen most of him already, there is one conspicuous part that you haven’t yet -

But before your eyes can trail that low, Joel turns. ‘Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ll just -’

You’re slow to catch onto why he trails off in the middle of the sentence, still far too distracted by his general state of undress to notice until he’s already made his way to the top of your neatly made bed. And then you see it…

The flannel peeking out from underneath the duvet.

Oh. Fuck.

With an almost flippant flick of his wrist, Joel peels back the corner of the bedspread. Wordlessly, he stares down at the red plaid shirt he lent you at the baby shower, tucked snugly in your bed, buried half under your pillow.

He stares at it for so long that you interrupt the silence for once.

‘I’ve been meaning to return it,’ you squeak, hands flailing awkwardly, desperately wanting something to hold onto. ‘I just - forgot.’

Joel half-turns to you, arching an eyebrow. ‘You’ve been keepin’ it in your bed?’

Backed into a corner - and you’re not proud of it - you lie. Outrageously. ‘I don’t know how it got in there.'

He picks up the shirt by the collar. It’s wrinkled all over and obviously worn in. He smirks, ‘I’m not so sure about that.’

You’re this close to swivelling around and making a break for it, but as soon as your axis of balance tilts backwards, Joel grabs you by the wrist and pulls you in, hauling you firmly into his bare chest.

‘You’ve been wearin’ it to sleep, haven’t you?’ he asks in a tone that brooks no argument.

Your fingers curl into his chest, his skin blazing warm under your palms. There’s no point fibbing anymore, and you admit, ‘Yes.’

His voice is hoarse when he asks, ‘You wear anythin’ underneath it, sweetheart?’

You hold your breath for one long moment, the tension in the room swelling so quickly that your ears pop. Eventually, under his patient yet heated stare, you shake your head, lips sealed.

His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, and you feel his grip on your hips tighten.

‘No bra?’ he prompts.

‘No bra,’ you parrot back.

His jaw clenches so tightly that you’re surprised he manages to articulate his next question. ‘No panties?’

‘No panties -’

You barely get the word out before Joel is kissing you, pushing the syllables right back into your mouth until you swallow them with a whimper.

And then he’s pulling back, growling against yours, ‘And what do you do naked in my shirt, hmm?’

You stutter, ‘I - I think about you -’

An undignified squeal escapes you when he suddenly spins you around, your back hitting the bed, denying you the chance to catch your breath. The ceiling fan turns directly above you, but it does nothing to quell the heat between your bodies as Joel clambers over you on his hands and knees, sliding his mouth over yours again in a hard kiss.

You always thought your bed was a decent size, but now, with the bulk of this man hovering over you, you’re not so sure anymore. His ridiculously wide shoulders fill your entire field of vision, and even though he’s holding himself up with his forearms by your ears, you can almost feel the full weight of him through sheer anticipation of his touch.

His heated words brush by your ear, making you shudder. ‘Tell me what you think about, sweetheart.’

‘Your arms, your shoulders -’ you hesitate, dropping your voice shyly. ‘Your belly.’

Joel looks taken aback. ‘My belly?’

You duck your head almost guiltily. ‘Yes.’

His brows draw together in an endearingly confused frown. ‘Why?’

‘That time in the workshop, when we met, you were sucking it in so hard you could hardly breathe - but you don’t anymore.’

The dots connect, and his lips part in an oh. ‘I didn’t even realise.’

‘I know. That’s why it’s sexy,’ you point out.

He looks at you incredulously, as if you’ve lost your mind. ‘My belly is sexy?’

You grin. ‘Yes, and your confidence. You walk differently now, you know.’

He makes a noise at the back of his throat, a self-satisfied smirk tilting his lips upwards. ‘You been watchin’ me?’

‘Maybe,’ you tease.

You exhale long and heavy through your nose when he sucks delicately on your bottom lip, opening you up so that he can dip inside, stealing a taste of your tongue with his.

‘Been thinkin’ about you all week, sweetheart,’ he whispers, trailing fire across your cheek and the hollow behind your ear.

‘I haven’t seen you around at all,’ you whine, tipping your head back as he nudges the tip of his proud nose down your throat.

‘I know, it took three fuckin’ days to clean up after the party,’ he complains, his disgruntled tone prompting a giggle from you. ‘Never again.’

‘I’m not so sure about that. There will be plenty of birthday parties to look forward to, Uncle Joel -’

An open-mouthed kiss on the side of your neck catches you off guard, the unfamiliar texture of the wet suction and scrape of his teeth jolts you clean off the mattress, sending you body slamming into his ribcage.

Joel hums, pleased at your reaction. ‘So sensitive. I’ve barely touched you yet, sweetheart.’

It’s immediate, the shame that burns under your skin at his remark despite knowing he doesn’t mean anything by it, and Joel frowns at the way you stiffen under him. Regret colours his words as he cups your cheek. ‘Pin, I’m sorry, that came out wrong -’

‘No, that’s the thing. You’re not wrong,’ you interrupt with a shake of your head. There’s no point denying it - you’re a grown woman, and there’s something fundamentally embarrassing about losing touch with that part of yourself over the years. ‘I - it’s been so long, I don’t even know my own body anymore.’

Your lips twitch despite yourself. ‘You’re just saying that to get into my pants.’

He takes the unexpected turn in the conversation in stride and runs with it. ‘Trust me, sweetheart, if I were tryin’, I’d already be in them.’

‘You’re such an ass, Joel Miller.’

His roguish grin has you squirming and fisting the sheets underneath you. ‘I dunno. Somethin’ tells me you like it.’

Wrapping one palm on the back of his neck, you drag him into you again, relishing in the weight of him as he pins you to the bed with the broad frame of his shoulders. He moans into your mouth, claiming it with deep strokes of his tongue, while his calloused palms sneak under the hem of your shirt and pull you into him by the small of your back.

Even as your hips buck, begging for friction, Joel holds back, propping himself up on his knees to keep a tenuous grip on his self-control. Pulling back from your lips with a wet pop, he assures you through heavy breaths, ‘We can stop any time, sweetheart. Just say the word.’

Your response comes fast and sure, but he can read the hesitance between the lines, ‘I - I don’t want to stop.’

He presses a patient kiss to your lips, but backs away before you can deepen it. ‘How about this - we’ll flip you over so that you’re on top, and you decide what you want to do. Is that ok?’

You pause to consider his proposal, sliding your tongue over your bottom lip - he’s this close to kissing you right there and then. You ask shyly, ‘And it’s ok if we - you know, just make out?’

He smiles. ‘I can do with some good old-fashioned neckin’.’

‘Ok then -’

You yelp when Joel turns you over without warning, the sudden movement making your head spin. Sitting up against the headboard, he drags you in his lap and asks, ‘Alright?’

You nod with a nervous smile. It’s intimidating, being so close to him that there’s nowhere else to look but into his thoughtful eyes that are watching you for any signs of discomfort. Catching your breath, you settle into the moment and realise that you’re straddling him, hands clinging onto his shoulders, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. His belly is warm and soft where he’s pressed up against you, but lower, nudging insistently between your legs -

Joel is hard.

The revelation robs you of air, want and need rushing like blood to your head, and you stiffen, not knowing what to do.

Joel catches on - you’re beginning to think that nothing ever escapes him - and he reminds you, ‘Just kissin’, ok, sweetheart?’

Snapping out of your freeze frame, you nod, ‘Yes. Ok.’

Giving you somewhere to start, he prompts, ‘Where do you want my hands?’

Tugging on his wrists, you watch his jaw go slack when you place his palms squarely on your ass, where your denim shorts hardly cover the top of your thighs. He lets out a lewd moan at the way your soft curves fill his hands, fingers squeezing and kneading greedily, and you push your hips back into his contact.

‘Not so shy after all, hmm?’ he rasps.

You preen at his praise, and riding the wave of boldness, you tip forward and press your lips to Joel’s before you could overthink it. Over the roar of blood in your ears, you hear him suck in a shaky breath, and you feel the deep groan in his throat taper into a whimper when you swipe your tongue into his mouth.

You’re completely unprepared for the power the sound unleashes in you.

Somewhere in your consciousness, a door is cracked open, and memory crackles at the edges of your mind. Each shuddered breath shared, every slide of skin on skin, brings to the surface what you thought you’d forgotten.

Your fingers burrow into the still wet locks at his nape, earning a loud moan from Joel when you pull on the grays that have distracted you on more than one occasion. He nips his way sloppily down your neck, trailing spit and beard burn as he goes, while your palms skate over his chest and down, down, down until your fingernails drag over the pliant folds of his tummy, hanging over the waistband of his jeans.

‘Sweetheart,’ he groans brokenly at the contact, forehead knocking into yours.

Spreading your fingers over soft flesh, you choke on an inhale when he bodily rocks into your palms. Your thumb catches the hollow of his belly button, fingers tenderly squeezing the creases and dimples of his belly. His eyes crack open under tightly knitted eyebrows, vulnerability etched in every line on his face.

Something shifts - something that neither of you can take back. And suddenly, it’s not just kissing anymore.

Caught somewhere between writhing instinctively under his touch and a deliberate pursuit of friction, your hips find a rhythm that has the seat of your panties quickly twisting and dampening as you grind on the erection straining against the zipper of his jeans.

Blunt nails bite into your thighs as Joel growls, ‘Shit, sweetheart. That’s it.’

You want to bury your face in his neck, feeling too wanton in the way you’re panting in needy whimpers, but he preempts that on no uncertain terms. ‘I want to see everythin’. Look at me.’

You do just that - you can’t deny this man even if you tried - watching him watch you with his pupils blown wide and wild, wetting his bottom lip the same time his eyes drop to your tits, as if he can see right through the thin fabric. He doesn’t touch you anywhere else though, his hands staying where you put them. You can feel his grip dig harder and harder into the swell of your ass, but he doesn’t try to change your rhythm, giving you free rein to ride him any way you need.

When your peripheral vision starts to go, you know it’s not a coincidence that your thoroughly soaked panties shift and strain against your clit, pinching it just so that you cry out, hips faltering.

Joel bares his teeth, and you feel his hips rut upwards into you, his restraint slipping. ‘There you go. You’re close, aren’t you?’

You can only nod, frantically grinding into him now, your whole mind narrowing until the only thought that remains is chasing that high that you can almost taste. Everything swells, electricity fills the air, his name a sacred chant on your tongue as you claw at his back, teetering precariously on the brink of something that promises to devastate you.

‘Joel, Joel, Joel -’

He catches you when you break - you fling yourself at him, knocking into him so hard that the back of his head hits the wall, but he doesn’t even flinch. Tucked safely into the crook of his neck, you whine and wail as you thrash in his hold, and his nostrils flare at your scent. He can smell you, he can smell the slick leaking from your pussy, humid and heady in the air between you, making his mouth water as he aches to taste you - all of you.

One day.

Right now, the hinge of his jaw almost cracks as you milk the last remnants of your orgasm with a needy swivel of your hips, rubbing against his cock at an angle that makes his vision swim, and he knows he’s too far gone. His control slips like shifting sands, and a primal instinct takes over as he bucks roughly into you, fingertips leaving imprints in your skin that you will feel for days after.

‘Oh fuck, sweetheart, wait, I’m - shit, I’m gonna -’

When it hits him, it’s fucking relentless - he cums and cums until his voice goes hoarse with your name, until it feels like his abdomen would cave in and collapse, spurting and spilling until it feels like he’s turned inside out. It goes everywhere, thick, milky strands filling the gaps in his jeans and sliding down his legs in a sticky mess, and he slumps bonelessly into the headboard, panting against your lips as he catches his breath.

Sweetly, gently, he tilts his chin up just enough to kiss you, his nose nudging your cheek intimately when he pulls away, his lungs too deprived of air to keep going. He winces when you shift above him, knowing that you can feel the wet spot pooling under your bare thighs.

Joel breaks the sluggish silence first, cracking a grin. ‘So much for just makin’ out.’

You clumsily climb off his lap and crash land sideways onto the mattress. ‘Is that a complaint, Joel Miller?’

He drapes a heavy arm over you and pulls back you flush into him. ‘Well, these jeans are fuckin’ ruined. I want a refund.’

‘I’m afraid we don’t accept cum-stained returns. Store policy.’

He pffts. ‘Damnit. Should’ve read the fine print.’

You grin. ‘Well, at least there's something deeply poetic about cumming in the jeans that I picked out for you.’

‘Touché, sweetheart,’ he grunts and presses a kiss to your forehead. Glancing down at the unmistakable wet patch on the denim, he asks hopefully, ‘Any chance you got some pants I can borrow?’

Ellie bounces her leg irritably, hunched over on the stairs exactly where Joel was sitting this morning. Where the fuck is he? He’s twenty minutes late, and he had the nerve to get all huffy when she lied about the start time today. Unbelievable.

Moodily looking left and right, there’s still no sign of him. She’s about to give up and wait for him at home when something conspicuously purple comes to a stop in front of her.

Her jaw hits the floor.

‘Oh. My. God.’

She’s never been high before, but she’s pretty sure this is the stuff hallucinations are made of.

With a roll of his eyes, he snaps, ‘Shut your mouth, you’re trappin’ flies.’

Pasting on the most obnoxious grin she can muster, Ellie croons, ‘Man, don’t you look pretty.’

Turning on his heel, Joel starts walking without looking back. ‘Shut up.’

Jogging to keep up, she cackles, ‘Hey, did you fall into a wormhole and went shopping at a farmer’s market in 1999?’

‘Shut up.’

‘You really should wear shorts more often, y’know, show off those knees. And purple really is your colour, Barney!’

Joel frowns, shooting her a sidelong glare. ‘How the hell do you know who Barney is?’

Ellie shrugs. ‘What do you think they teach us at school?’

He’s the one who starts it. The quake in his shoulders would have been imperceptible to anyone else, but nowadays, there’s not much that he can hide from her. As usual, she giggles first, which trails into a squeal when Joel gives her a shove on the back, sending her stumbling over her shoes.

‘Fuck you, man!’ she snickers and basically rugby tackles him, but he barely budges, lips pulling back into a toothy grin.

Notes: You guys continue to blow me away with your support - I cannot be more grateful for all the reblogs, asks and interaction with my silly Behind the Seams posts and random updates. Thank you so so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I can't wait to hear what you think ❤️

I will be having a think over the next few weeks about where Seams will go from here. This chapter wraps up the first mini story arc, and I'll be dedicating August to wrapping up my Palomino series, so it will give me some time and distance to mull over what's next for Joel and Pin. I'm also a few followers away from a big milestone, so I might have something fun planned! 🥰

#look at my feral cat man being domesticated slowly but surely 🥹#fuckyeahseams #seams iv #series: seams #joel miller x reader #joel miller

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bestnottoask · 8 months ago

Text

Falling For You?

{Masterlist}

Pairing- Draco Malfoy x Fem Potter Reader

Request- No

Summary - You’re starting to notice a change in Draco Malfoy’s behavior which is strange because ever since day one he has had it out for you and your twin brother Harry. What will happen when you are hurt badly during a quidditch match causing you to fall from a fatal height? This takes place in the 5th year. No use of Y/N.

Genre- Angst, Fluff

Warnings - Blood, Angst, Potential enemies to lovers? multiple Pov, swearing, mentions of nausea, fainting, violence, physical fighting, I think that's it,

●Ambiguous Ending

A/N - This is my first ever fic, so I hope you enjoy it. Sorry I haven’t posted much life has just gotten a bit out of hand recently, but I have managed to produce this and its finally time to share it! so enjoy.

Word count - 5.7k

Growing up without parents and living with your abusive Aunt and Uncle with their Spoilt Brat for a kid wasn’t easy; and you honestly didn’t think you would have survived without your twin brother. For the longest time you too were inseparable. You were each other’s only family left. And that’s why you were crushed with guilt every time you look at those shining grey eyes.

It was no secret that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were enemies. Most people despised Malfoy due to his cruel demeanor and outdated world views, where he saw himself on some pedestal above everyone else; which he would reticule you from if you dare thought otherwise. Of course you were one of the people who disliked him. How could you not be?

You’d just wish your heart would listen to your brain when thought of him. He was a cruel person who found fun in making other people’s lives difficult, especially you and your friends. So why did you find your eyes lingering on him for a second too long? Looking around the great hall at dinner just to get a glimpse of him. It wasn’t right, and you knew it. But it didn’t help that he had really grown into his looks and gotten a lot taller over the summer break. And while there is an undouble rivalry between Malfoy and both Potter twins since the first year, you couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy had become slightly more tolerable lately. He would make less snarky and unnecessary comments, start less arguments and not take the arguments that he did start as far as he used to. Was he getting tired of it? Or was he maybe he was finally maturing. Either way, you were grateful for it as you have been seated next to him for potions until the end of the year, courtesy of Snape’s seating plan.

In fact, you had noticed that ever since you had been seated next to him at the beginning of the year, he was slowly becoming more tolerable, and you were becoming less annoyed by his presence.

You had explained your thoughts to Hermione stating that maybe he was ‘growing on you’ but she just replied saying that it was more likely that he was just ‘wearing you down’, to which you chuckled along with.

For a while now, more times than you’d like to admit was spent dwelling on your changing feelings for him. A part of you hoped that he was perhaps changing and that maybe it could lead to something between the two of you. You had to admit he was funny at times and had slipped up and shown you a different side of him before. Only in subtle ways like picking something you’d dropped on the floor and handing it to you without any snarky comment or passing you something you were looking for. If anyone else did this, you wouldn’t think twice about it. But it wasn’t anyone. It was Draco Malfoy.

You were pulled out of your own thoughts by Ron leaning upwards to look over you and your brothers head to see the Slytherin table

“Can’t wait to wipe that that stupid smug smirk off of Draco’s face” Ron said through gritted teeth as he began to sit back down still keeping an eye on the Slytherin table behind you where Draco sat in his quidditch uniform talking with his teammates.

“He’s been extra cocky today about winning this match” Ron grumbled as he turned to the food in front of him.

“Tell me about it” Harry sarcastically sighed “I had to deal with him and Blaise all of first period” Harry grumbled. You peered over your shoulder to see the loud commotion happening behind you, which mainly consisted of the Slytherin quidditch team chanting about them winning the upcoming match. It didn’t take a genius to tell they were overly confident.

“No worries, we’ve trained for this,” you said turning back to the table and rolling up your sleeves. As much as you like your quidditch uniform its arm sleeve length got in the way when you were trying to eat.

“One more hour until we can destroy them!” Ron said with a laugh to which Harry returned with a grin.

“You both are so competitive” Hermione chimed in as she rolled her eyes before looking back at the book in her hands.

“It’s almost concerning” you chuckled in agreement.

“Don’t act like you don’t want to see them lose” Ron replied with a tone making it sound like he was defending himself.

“I want to see us win” you explained.

“How’s that any different?” Ron questioned with a mouth full of food and a raised brow.

“Because she’s finding pleasure in her achievements rather than others loses” Hermione said firmly closing and placing her book on the table, to which Ron replied with another eye roll.

“Yeah, but it Slytherin” Harry said as if he was to be proving some point, but you and Hermione looked at each other then back towards him as he missed the point all together.

“So?” you replied.

“So, I guess it’s alright to be happy when they lose” Harry said with uncertainty in his voice because as he was saying it out loud, he was beginning to hear how he may be in the wrong.

“Don’t get me wrong I want us to win, but I think you two are a bit too hateful towards Slytherin. I mean sometimes you both say something I’d expect a Slytherin to say about a Gryffindor. Which is definitely not a good look”. You explained, hoping to talk some sense into them so try and defuse the rising tension between the house that always comes before a big quidditch match. Harry and Ron didn’t reply, they just shared a look between them realizing that you may have a point; as they do get quite competitive.

The conversation quickly changed as Oliver Wood appeared and made the team gather around and talk strategy.

You wouldn’t call yourself a confident person, but usually before a quidditch you would feel fine. Prepared. You were a strong player, and everyone knew it. However, today you weren’t feeling as prepared as you normally are, and you were unsure as to why. You just had a bad feeling about the match.

As you walked out onto the field with your team, broom in hand, the icy wind almost imminently pricked at your skin. You looked up and saw that the sky had been painted with all different shades of grey clouds, indicating an upcoming storm.

Everyone took their positions on the field and as you did you saw some of the Slytherin boys whisper something to each other while looking over at you and some of your teammates. This made you feel even more uneasy, and you tried to shake it off, but it kept dwelling on you that something was going to go wrong.

The game began and everything went as expected aside from Slytherin taking the lead by a few points but nothing that couldn’t be overturned by the end of the game. It soon started to lightly rain, a sprinkle of water coating the stadium, making it a bit harder to see since the wind was moving the rain into your eyes.

As the score got closer everyone understandably got more competitive and began to push the boundaries a tad, such as shoving someone a little harder than what is normally allowed during a match, but no student would ever report this to a teacher. It was like an unspoken rule that when the game got close the so could the players.

You had flown to the side of the field after successfully passing the quaffle over to Oliver while avoiding being knocked off your broom. Oliver had managed to gain Gryffindor points with the quaffle pushing the score so that Gryffindor was now ahead of Slytherin. This did not sit well with the two Slytherins that were on your back trying to prevent you from passing the quaffle over to Oliver just moments ago.

One of them was Marcus Flint. And although you couldn’t see the glare, he gave you from behind, you could almost feel it. Only a minute or two later something sharp caught the corner of your eye. You looked over to your right, but it had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. You had shrugged it off and continued to play the game but was shortly interrupted by a small, very bright blue flash across the field. You flew up high staring wide-eyed trying to find it again eyes scanning everywhere, hoping someone else had also seen it and that you weren’t going crazy. But you didn’t have much time to ponder as soon the bright light was headed straight towards you once again. You instantly flew away, occasionally checking behind you to see if it was still on your trail. Adrenaline coursed through your body as you flew at full speed before slowing down once you realized that it was no longer behind you.

Shocked from the surprise of it all, you weren’t paying attention until you heard what sounded like distressed arguing. You saw Fred and Seamus from afar, you squinted trying to figure out what they were doing as it looked like they were either arguing or very worried. You began to make you way over there ignoring your surroundings, heading straight towards them, but before you could make it there someone came out of nowhere and sped past you, nearly knocking you off your broom. It was unlike anyone to race that fast at someone during the match so high off the ground even with the unspoken rule. You continued forward when once again someone flew right in front of you. You suddenly came to a halt and spun your head around to see what was happening behind you. You could feel the cold, icy air prick at your skin and make your nose pink and sore. Your hair was blowing rapidly in the wind, impairing your vision. You looked over and saw Ron from afar clutching his upper left arm with Oliver beside him. As you were about to fly over to them to make sure Ron was alright, when something sped past you, hitting you on the right side of your head.

It knocked you hard, causing you to face forward again and even jolt a little bit on your broom. You were still able to maintain a steady grip with both hands on her broom; but that was quickly forgotten about when you began to feel a wave of nausea and dizziness. It quickly became a struggle to focus on anything, the world felt like it was spinning and your whole body felt numb aside from a slight tingle.

But the numbness didn’t last long as soon a strong burning sensation formed above your right eyebrow. Still accompanied by the nausea, after only a few seconds you felt something wet run down the right side of your face. But this wasn’t the cold rain that was pouring all around you. This was warm and running fast.

You slowly brought your hand up to the source of the pain and brought it back down only to find it covered in a bright red liquid. As if on cue, your hearing began to fade and soon you couldn’t hear anything around you; not your teammates, not the crowd, or even the cold wind that had been floating around all week. The only thing you could hear was your own racing heart. Your breaths were slow and deep as you tried to stay conscious, while your heartbeat was as fast as ever. The rain that was already trickling down you only helped spread blood down your face beginning to cover your quidditch uniform.

Only a few seconds prior, Hermione had noticed the small flash fly across the field once again, but this time it went towards you, and seemingly hit you before you could see it coming. Hermione jumped out of her seat the second she saw you get hit. She was squinting her eyes and leaning ever so slightly over the banister trying to see what happened. Neville was quickly by her side using his binoculars to try to see what was happening. Hermione glances to her side at Nevilles binoculars and quickly snatches the binoculars from Nevilles grasp and places them before her eyes. Completely ignoring the fact that they were strapped around his neck, and he was now uncomfortably pulled into her personal space. Hermione saw your face slowly turn red, and she imminently dropped the binoculars, allowing Neville to stand up straight once more. “Oh Merlin” she whispered to herself, but loud enough for Neville and Luna who had also joined her side to hear and it, make them both look at her, unsure of what she saw.

Unaware as to what everyone else was facing, Harry was speeding along the perimeter of the field, not far from the ground with Draco to his Left. Their knees collided and both of their gazes were strongly focused on the small golden snitch flying not far in front of them. The light rain and the air resistant due to their fast speed was causing them both slightly to squint into order to see. They both would push against each other with their shoulders in hopes that the other would fall off course. Their hair flew rapidly behind them as they tilted their heads forward, both trying to increase their speed. However, Draco’s gaze shifted to the stadium when he heard some loud yelling. But it wasn’t the normal yelling that happened during a quidditch match. This sounded like panic. He couldn’t make out what was being said but when he looked above Harry as he saw the Gryffindor podiums crowds’ gazes fixated on something behind and above him; and judging by their expression and stances with their arms pointing at whatever was causing the commotion, it wasn’t good. Draco only heard the yelling because he and Harry were flying right beside the crowd, however, Harry seemed to be too focused on the snitch flying just out of his reach to take interest in the sound. Draco turned his head to his left and after a quick scan of the field and the people on it, he saw what the commotion was about.

Draco’s shoulder sunk and his eyes were wide fixated on the image in the distance. He wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was real. He saw you on your broom way up in the air. But you weren’t flying around. Instead, you sat up on your broom with only one hand gripping the broomstick. Your opposing hand was held to the side of your head, the palm painted red. His stomach dropped when he saw her face. Blood was pouring down the right side of it, covering the dazed expression. You were looking slightly over your right shoulder, towards the Gryffindor podium and crowd, which he was under. That’s probably why he heard them yelling. They got the best view of what had happened and started to panic.

You felt a light head, and suddenly the overwhelming burning pain didn’t matter anymore. The frequency of your blinks increased significantly, as you tried to stay awake. You could taste the rain as your mouth hung open, desperately trying to take deeper breaths. But soon you realized that it was no good. Black dots began to appear, and you felt yourself falling. The last thing you saw was your broom only a few feet above you.

Draco eye widened and he was quickly filled to the brim with panic, as he saw your figure in the distance go limp and fall to the side, beginning to make its way to the ground. Within less than a second of your body falling, Draco’s broomstick was pointed your way and just as before he was tilting his head and body forward increasing his speed. His gaze was focused the unconscious body in a bright red and gold Gryffindor uniform; and just like for you before, everything around him was a blur and he could only hear clouded muffles of what he would assume is the crowd being loud as per usual; not that he gave any thought to it, he didn’t care, in fact it seemed as if for the first time in his life he didn’t care about anything else; he was only focused on getting to you on time.

Harry noticed Draco’s absence when he went to make a quick glance between him and the golden snitch. But as Harry noticed he was no longer next to him he was quick to notice a Slytherin uniform blowing in the wind flying away from him. Harry slowed his chase after the snitch and took notice of what Draco was chasing after. Rather than who he was chasing after, Panic swept through the boy as he was quick to follow Draco’s path, but Draco was significantly ahead of him.

Flying through the rain at such a speed made the rain drops feel as if ice was pinching at Draco’s pale skin, but nether the less Draco was able to catch Potter’s limp body before you went crashing onto the ground. He held a tight grip, but the impact of catching you and trying to hold you on his broomstick made him lose control of his broom and he began to make his way to the ground. He was able to pull his broom upwards right before he collided with the ground, softening the fall for both students. Once you both hit the ground, Draco was thrown over you and landed roughly 5 meters in front of her. You were laying half on your stomach and half on your right side on the soft, wet grass. Your hair which you had freshly washed this morning, was scattered over your face, absorbing blood from the small pool that was forming under your rested head. Draco on the other hand found himself fully on his stomach with his head facing to his left, with his left shoulder taking most of the impact. Both uniforms were muddy and blowing slightly in the wind as they lay there on the wet grass.

It didn’t take long for both teams to make their way to the scene, Oliver arriving first with Ron by his side clutching his upper left arm. They both kneeled by your side; Oliver gently pulling you onto your back, revealing what was once clear skin framing a soft smile, but was now a blood-covered face decorated with scratches. Oliver and Ron are both taken back by the sight, eyes scanning over the injury on your head. But before Oliver could even think of what to do next the whole Gryffindor quidditch team had made their way over and began crowding around them. Harry arrives at the scene and stumbles off his broom running and forcefully pushing his way through his teammates, only coming to a small stop when he finally sees his blooded-up sister on the floor; half her face covered in blood with her hair stuck in it, and the parts of her face that somehow weren’t bloody, were pale and lifeless. Before anyone could say anything to him, he was on his knees next to her, with tear-filled eyes and his hands clasping over her forehead in an attempt to try and stop the bleeding. He tried to reach for his wand to use a healing spell but cursed under his breath as he moved his hand back to your head after feeling his empty pocket. A reminder of the rule stating that no personal magical objects can be found or used by any player during a match.

Draco was woken by his teammates pulling him up to his knees after he was briefly knocked out from the impact with the ground, and he was very winded; but he didn’t even assess or take note of the damage done to himself before he began carefully making his way up to the small crowd of both Gryffindor and Slytherin quidditch players, trying to peek through. By the time he made it through the crowd, he only got a glimpse before he spun his head around at the sound of an angry professor storming over to the scene.

“Move aside!” Professor Snape called out while waving his arms out to push anyone out of his way. He was followed by Professor McGonigal who had her hands holding up her robes so she could hurry over. Behind her were Hermione, Luna, Nevile and a hand full of other people with worried expressions written all over their faces. Everyone stepped aside to let the professors in. Harry looked up at them with tear-soaked eyes, his hands were on his twin sister’s face; one on her cut and the other on her jawline, holding her face. For a second Harry could have sworn he saw Professor Snape’s eyes widen with concern. Within a second Snape was by Harrys side, he pulled out his wand and softly murmured a healing spell causing the slash on her forehead to slowly heal over. Professor McGonigal began questioning the students around her about what had caused this incident, but her tone made the questions sound like accusations. Relief filled Harrys body and he let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. His sobs calmed down and he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked over and it was Hermione who gave him a reassuring smile; telling him it would be alright. Draco also felt a gush of relief wash over him, and unfortunately for him, it didn’t go unnoticed. Hermione gave him a questioning look as she saw the relief on his face when he saw that her dear friend way going to be alright. Draco noticed Hermione’s stare when he made eye contact with her. Panic boiled within him at being caught and his cheeks blushed a little from embarrassment and he immediately looked away and avoided her gaze, staring at the grass below him acting as if he didn’t care.

Harry returned his gaze to his sister who was being picked up by Snape. Snape was now standing up holding your still unconscious body in his arms.

“I suggest you follow me to the infirmary Wesley” Snape suggested, referring to the fact Ron was clutching his upper left arm with a little bit of blood seeping out of it.

“You got hit?! Are you alright Ron?” Hermione explained, turning to see the state he was in.

“Better than her” Ron shrugged referring to you as he made his way over to Snape with the intent to join his trip to the infirmary.

“Malfoy?” Snape said in his usual cold tone.

“Huh?” Draco said, looking up a little surprised as he was in his head and not paying attention. Snape noticed that the boy was oblivious, and he let out a small disappointing sigh before replying.

“Care to join us at the infirmary?” It almost sounded like a statement rather than a question because of Snapes usual cold tone. Draco looked down at his dirtied uniform and bruised hands. He will admit that his arm and back did hurt from the landing and he was sure he had a fair share of bruises underneath his uniform, and as much as he would like to follow, he knew that if he did he would want to check up on you, and that would draw a lot of unwanted attention and suspicion to the relationship between you and him, and after saving you there was enough speculation coming his way, he didn’t need anymore.

“Uh- no I think I’m alright” He shrugged. Without any further questioning Snape turned around and began walking back to the castle accompanied by Ron. Harry stumbled to his feet and quickly began to follow Snape but was stopped by Professor McGonigal placing her arm in front of him.

“I think you should stay; I need to have a word with you and everyone else here to figure out what happened today”, and with that Harry sighed, he wanted to protest and go with his sister, but he knew that she was in good hands; and he too wanted to know what causes her sister to bleed all over the Quidditch field.

Professor McGonigal took the Gryffindor team to the side of the field to question them first, leaving the Slytherin team plus Hermione, Luna and Neville alone, while the crowd was told to go back to the great hall.

There was only small chatter between the students before a few Slytherin students began chuckling. “Surely this means we win right? I mean we managed to get two of the Gryffindor players out of commission.” Marcus Flint chuckled rather loudly to his friends.

Hermione shot them a quick glare, but they were seemingly unfazed by it. She knew they had something to do with what happened today. Draco, who had been standing around in silence avoiding any questions from his teammates while holding his still sore arm, shot a firm glare towards the Marcus Flint, having also caught on that he was up to something.

“What?” Marcus mockingly questioned when he noticed Draco’s cold glare.

“What did you do?” Draco asked coldly as he began walking over to the boy.

“What does it look like, I won us the game mate!” Marcus chuckled while looking around at his friends who were also seemingly enjoying this.

“You cheated!” Hermione exclaimed, “I saw a small flash of blue light move around the field”.

“And what does that prove?” Marcus replied, with his horrific smile hung high.

“You used a spell; you’ve got your wand with you” Hermione pointed out gesturing to his wand that couldn’t quite fit properly into his pocket.

“Yeah, and what are you going to do about its Granger” Marcus stated as he began walking into Hermione’s personal space, towering over her in an attempt to make her feel threatened.

“You put two people in the infirmary!” Nevile chimed in trying to see if Marcus had any remorse for his actions.

“Congrats the boy can count” Marcus laughed while waving his hand in the air mockingly which was followed by laughter from his surrounding friends. “It’s not like anyone is going to miss those two” Marcus scoffed as he turned back to his friend.

Draco glanced at the red stained grass then back up to Marcus who was chuckling alone with his friends like nothing had even happened. The boy was showing no remorse, so he wasn’t going to either. Hermione saw something change in Draco’s eyes, they suddenly went dark and before she could say anything he was clenching his fists and angrily walking up to Marcus. The second Marcus turned to acknowledge Draco’s precents, Draco swung his fist violently and fast at the boy’s left cheek, causing him to stumble to the ground. The pain in Draco shoulder was long gone, covered by his anger for the boy in front of him.

“The fuck is your problem!” Marcus exclaimed as he stood up and swung back at the blonde boy. Cries were heard from the people around them as Draco took the punch given to him, but almost immediately returned it and managed to push Marcus back to the ground. Marcus brought Draco down with him and they continued to swing at each other, grabbing each other’s collars and pushing the other down. It wasn’t until Draco managed to pin Marcus beneath him and was mercilessly slamming his fists into the boy’s face before he was pulled back. Arms wrapped around him as he tried to push against them.

“Stop! He’s not worth it” Oliver wood exclaimed as he was holding Draco back along with Fred Weasley.

“You Piece of shit!” Marcus spat at Draco with blood coming out of his mouth, while trying to reach him; struggling against Blaise and Goyel grip.

“ENOUGH!” Professor McGonigal exclaimed as she glared at the two boys, making them stop struggling to free themselves.

“The Two of you, my office NOW!” McGonigal glared at the boys as they slowly stumbled to their feet with hung their heads low as they walked by her side to her office. An angry glare was exchanged between the boys ever so often as they made their way back to the castle.

“What on earth has gotten into everyone today!?” Oliver exclaimed looking around at all the stunned students.

“Malfoy beating the living shit out of Flint, now that's something” Seamus answered, not hiding his amusement

“Yeah, but why?” Oliver continued

“Because he cheated during the match, He was the reason your team got hurt” Hermione Chimed in.

“What?!, That bastard!” Harry spat.

“Why would Malfoy be so upset about Slytherin cheating? Wouldn’t put it past him to do it himself” Fred replied.

“Merlin knows” Seamus sighed.

“So are we just going to ignore the elephant in the room” George asked, causing everyone to send him questioning looks.

“Which one” Seamus chuckled.

“The fact that ‘The prince of Slytherin ‘abandoned chasing the golden snitch to catch and most likely save the life of the one and only ‘princess of Gryffindor’”. George explained. To which Fred replied with a small chuckle “well when you say it like that”.

“Does seem a bit curious don’t you think” Luna gently stated.

Harry shared a confused look with Hermione, both acknowledging that they needed to talk privately.

“Whatever, I’ll discuss this later with McGonigal; we should pack-up and clear out of here before this rain becomes a storm” Oliver said he began making his way off the court, still pissed about how the match went down. Everyone soon followed him.

Everyone had been told to go about their day as usual, but nothing about what had happened earlier was usual. Hermione had gone to speak to professor McGonigal about her suspicions involving Marcus Flint and his cheating. To which McGonigal was able to confirm when assessing the recent spells used through his wand. Quidditch matches had been suspended for the month due to foul play and to say everyone was upset was an understatement. Harry had spent most of the day by your side, with Ron as company. A few hours later you had woken to a killer headache and harry was quick to inform Hermione so she could come and see you, which of course she did and used the time to fill you in on what had happened.

You were jaw-dropped shocked when Hermione informed you that the Draco Malfoy had flown over to you on a whim to catch you. Not only that but he had beaten up Flint because he was the one who was cheating and hurt you and Ron. None of this made any sense but for a moment it made your heart flutter with the idea that he actually cared. To some degree at least. But to be fair he must care quite a bit to have been the first person to rush over to help you. If you weren’t in so much pain, you would be eager to get out of the infirmary just so you could see him in potions but unfortunately that didn’t look like it was happening anytime soon.

Hermione excused herself from your presence and began to make her way to the detention classroom which she had heard Draco had been placed in, leaving a trail of small clicks behind her as her shoes tapped the store floor. The room felt cold and isolating, only accompanied by the sound of rain against the rather large windows.

Hermione slowly stepped towards Draco, where he was sitting on the edge of a crooked chair, silently looking down at his hands. Entering his field of view Hermione waited, expecting some form of acknowledgement but Draco held his gaze on the icepack he was holding in his pale and muddy hands.

Hermione spoke softly, almost as if she was afraid that if she started him, he would disappear. “I heard McGonigal yelling from down the hall” She paused for a moment when he didn’t respond. “How long were you given?”.

“8 weeks” Draco quietly grumbled after a few seconds.

“And Marcus?”

“12.” His tone was empty and careless.

“Makes sense” Hermione said as she stepped closer to the boy, fiddling with her hands.

“She woke up” Hermione quietly commented referring to you. She took note of Draco’s reaction. He had moved his eyes up but stopped before they met with hers and brought them back down to his hand; almost as if he didn’t want them to leave his hand in the first place. It was a small reaction, but it was still there.

Hermione decided to continue figuring he was curious and wasn’t going to respond. “She is doing fine by the way; she’ll be out of the infirmary very soon.” Draco just nodded softly in repose still avoiding her gaze.

“Draco” Hermione said softly and took a step closer, she waited for him to look at her and once he did, she was almost taken back a bit. She had never seen such a plain soft expression him this boy. His face always contained a scowl and a mischievous smirk. She has to blink herself back to reality and out of her thoughts.

“You did a good thing today; you probably saved her life. The fall could have taken her out” Hermione tone was so genuine that Draco didn’t know how to respond.

“So, thank you” Hermione finished softly with a small smile. Draco pressed his lips together in acknowledgement before Hermione turned to walk out the room, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts.

Although Draco hadn’t said much to Hermione, a lot was exchanged, and she knew that she was going to revisit her conversation with you about his change in behavior. Draco was left dreading how mad his father was going to be about his actions, but once he remembered why he did them, his mind shifted, and he didn’t care as much about what his father was going to say, only what he was going to say to you.

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

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Delicate (JJK x Reader) 🐾💜☁️🔞

🧶Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

🧶Genre: hybrid!AU, Tsundere (slightly), Fluff, a bit of Angst, smut

🧶Warnings: Jungkook is a brat, Catboy!Jungkook, He basically hates everyone but his kitten, HUman! Reader, Wet dream, masturbation, big dick! Kook but whats new, Sweet reader, Spanking (and not on her butt if you know what I mean), Rough handjob (fem. Rec), doggy style, Desperate koo, overstimulation, forced orgasm, multiple orgasm, slightly angsty moment, but nothing bad lol, confessions, basically owner/Hybrid to lovers lol

🧶Summary: Jungkook does whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Changing for you might be harder than he initially thought- but maybe he doesn't even need to. Maybe you'll love him just for who he actually is.

Jungkook was a maine coon hybrid. He's been at the shelter for years now, adopted just to be returned a week later, every time. He's got serious additude problems, thinks way too highly of himself, is just overall too much to handle. He knows that. But that doesn't mean he wants to change.

No, he actually actively decides to be a dick. Simply irritating others is like some sort of game for him, feeding his ego to no ends whenever someone gives up on him. It's like he's winning.

Jungkook loves winning.

It all however, changes as soon as he spots you. You're small, and not in a sense of short- no, you actually look like a doll to him. So delicate, so adorable, Jungkook can't help but stare with wide, green cateyes. His pupils are contracted as if you're too bringt for them to handle, yet its only the amount of sudden emotions that's making them look like that. As soon as you turn around, spotting him, smiling at him, they widen like the moon itself; making the cat-hybrid next to him wave a hand in front of his face, since he completely blocked out the fact that the older hybrid was talking to him. He irritatedly swishes his hand away, ears now perked up as his fluffy tail twitches every second or so. He can hear your voice, soft and sweet, and he's whipped already.

Jungkook wants you.

He stands up suddenly, completely dismissing the hybrid that he'd conversed with earlier, as he walks over to you, who's standing in front of another area filled with dog hybrids. He scrunches his nose in disgust; you don't need one of those mutts, you need him. He stops a footstep away from you, and the worker sighes as you look up at the hybrid. "Oh, thats Jungkook-" he explains. "He's one of our problem cases, so I wouldn't really reccomend him for you." He explains, and Jungkooks brows furrow. Who the fuck does he think he is, calling him a problem case? He knows its true, but that doesn't mean he can just say that out loud to anyone, especially not you. How's he supposed to gain your trust now?

You smile, now visibly a little intimitated. Jungkook knows why, knows that his physique is pretty much yelling strength and confidence. He suddenly gets an idea, and decides to try it out. No hurt in playing around a little.

So he lets his ears droop, and slowly walks back towards the corner of the room, simply sitting down there before flopping to his side, huffing out a breath as if exhausted. He hoped it works, otherwise he's pulling this stunt without reason, making a fool of himself for nothing. But it seems as if it works, slowly, because he can spot your now slightly worried eyes watching him as the worker leads you along, to meet some other dog hybrids. He knows he's got you. He just has to wait.

Jungkook loves taking naps.

And this time, it helped time pass by easily, as he suddenly smells your fabric softener again, as he can hear the worker try and talk you out of it. He can feel you behind him as he'd rolled around on his spot to face the wall, and he visibly shudders as your hand touches his tail. He turns around slowly, tired eyes spotting you squatting down close to his back, as he sits up. He looks at you curiously, and you suddenly smile, leaning your head slightly to the side, your earrings dangling prettily from your ears as he can't look away. You're even prettier up close and personal like this. "So, you're Jungkook?" You ask, and he forgets to answer for a moment, nods after he notices the awkward silence, as he blushes. You giggle, and sit down properly, obviously intending to get to know him more.

Good.

He sits properly as well, not saying anything, as you ask away. "They said you're quite the troublemaker." You amusedly state, and Jungkook suddenly has the urge to roll his eyes. He doesn't however, knowing all his acting would've been for nothing if he slipped now. So he simply looks down, his ears slightly bend backwards as he scratches his neck. "But I think you're just a bit rough around the edges." You explain, and his eyes move, looking at you as you continue. "Like a diamond, you know? They need to be handled carefully, and then they turn into the prettiest things." You say, and he already decides he loves your voice. He carefully answers.

"You think so?"

He can see the surprise in your face, it's to be expected. His tone doesn't fit his current act at all, but he can't change that. But you smile, nodding, and he internally sighs at that, at the fact that you simply accepted that. "Look-" You suddenly say, pulling out your phone and showing him a balcony, with pretty flowers blooming. You swipe, and it shows what he assumes is your apartment. It's small, he notices, but for some reason it looks more inviting than any place he'd ever been to. It looks cozy, well taken care of, and a tad bit unruled; it looks like a home. His eyes sparkle with actual genuine interest. "We could put some blankets here, the sun shines there nicely throughout the day, so you could take some awesome naps there-" You explain, and his ears perk into your direction at that. "Oh, and during the summer you can always stay on the balcony- its really nice there when its hot you know? The cool breeze is nice." You say, and suddenly notice how he's looking at you, expecting something. "I mean-" You stutter suddenly, locking your phone and growing a bit shy at him being so close to you. You have to admit; he's really handsome. "Only if you want to come with me, that is." You ask, and he suddenly nods.

Jungkook would love to come home with you.

That was a year ago, and your home slowly became his own home as well, more perfect than those photos could ever convey.

As you walk around the apartment, he notices how you carry some of your own stuff into another room- smaller than the original bedroom. At his confused glance, you scratch the back of your neck, right where he knows your scent is strongest, and he gets the urge to bury his nose into the spot. "Oh! I just uhm.. last night you slept in front of my door, so I thought you may want to change rooms? You're bigger than me, so you need more space, i think?" You say, and he shakes his head with a soft smile, walking up to you and stopping you in your tracks.

"N-No.. Actually, I wanted to ask you something." He wonders, now not looking at you anymore, as you look up at his eyes. "I uhm.." He starts, swallowing some saliva to finally get the words out. "I was wondering if I could sleep in your room."

Its quiet for a moment, and he grows anxious at this, thinking that he had just overstepped some boundary he didn't know of yet. "Like- I mean, I get lonely during the night, and you said once that you need to hug something to sleep well and maybe you could hug me and we would safe costs for heating because two people are warmer than just one and-" He rambles on, and you put your hands on his shoulders, making him shut up in the midst of talking. Your touch does that to him, most of the time. It's like magic, addicting, and he can't help but swallow again, now however not because of fear.

"You should've said something sooner, silly!" You say, reaching up to scratch his ear, which involuntarily makes him purr as he presses against your hand. "Of course you can. Don't worry so much, kookie." You say, and he smiles at this, happy that he was finally closer to you.

Jungkook is such a sweet cat, in your eyes. He's gentle, always so ready to help you with whatever problem you have, lending you a hand with household chores; he's truly the perfect hybrid at your side.

So, so sweet.

Scratch that.

Jungkook was currently eyeing your best friend down, ears pinned back while his fluffy tail was standing tall, agression clear in his entire posture. "Wow, ok. What's with him?" Yoongi asks, unsure on what exactly was going on. Maybe it was Hoesok's scent on him that agitated him? But he couldn't know for sure. Instead of you however, Jungkook answered in his low voice, clearly offended by something. He doesn't klnow why this always happens.

"Don't talk like I'm not here, asshole." He spits out, and your eyes widen. Jungkook was such a sweet guy around you, it was hard to imagine this was actually happening time and time again. He was watching Yoongi with careful eyes, pupils contracted to slits as his greenish eyes pin the older man down with their stare. He's cautious, and you don't quite know about what, until Yoongi makes the mistake of reaching out for you.

Before so much as his fingertips can reach you, Jungkook has already jumped from his spot, shoving the shorter man back with so much force he almost falls into the small coffee table behind him. "Jungkook!" You exclaim scandalized, as he turns around at your tone of voice. Looking at your posture, taking in your scent, he can sense immediately that you're scared, confused, and he hates it. "Apologize." You demand, and Jungkook shakes his head, unwavering, before you sigh out, pointing towards the bedroom door. "Then get inside. And don't come out until I say so." You say, and his ears pin themselves back again, however his shoulders slump down as well, visibly deflating. He's actually sorry now- but it's too late to force himself to apologize to Yoongi; that intruder who's clearly here to claim territory. "Now." You say, and Jungkook suddenly breaks eye contact with you, letting himself be defeated for the first time since he was adopted.

For some reason, your voice hangs heavy on his muscles, heavier than any collar ever hung around his neck.

He hates this. He hates that he has to give up the fight to this complete stranger just because you said so; yet he can't will himself to go against your will. He wants to stay, he wants to be good, but he cant help but grow hostile with another guy in the same apartment as you. It's as if he's giving you up, and that's definitely not what he wants to do. But its ultimately whats happening.

And he hates it.

Jungkook isn't a sweet kitty. He's an untamed tiger, just simply agreeing on living with you, and that has become very apparent these months. He likes to pick on you, and loves to make a mess. There's nothing left of the oh so sweet and caring catboy you adopted a year ago, but it somehow doesn't bother you. You know that he was eager to get out of the shelter, and that he had been pretending for long enough.

This was Jungkooks true nature, and you were okay with that.

He was a bit of a brat, throwing down objects placed by you whenever you weren't home, simply to show you his unhappiness about that fact. He knew that you had to work, but that didn't mean that he liked it.

He also had a major enemy now.

Seokjin across the street, Namjoons prized silver labrador hybrid, or so he calls him. He's handsome, you have to admit, but Jungkook can't see anything visually appealing about the mutt. He hates him with a passion, and its quite possibly because of his very flirty nature, especially towards you. Jungkook wasn't talented in that department, he rather enjoyed picking on you than complimenting you. Compliments got boring after a while. Calling you shorty and watching you struggle to reach the highest shelf would never get old to him, however.

He likes to call Seokjin a rat for his grey features, just to see him get all offended, and he doesn't care much that you always scold him for it. He likes to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and he's been testing you long enough to somehow know when the fun is over. He'd never intentionally hurt you, emotionally nor physically, but that doesn't mean he can't pick on you now and then.

Its his own way of showing affection. You just don't quite get it, it seems.

Its when you leave for a late night business gathering to celebrate the company's anniversary that he breaks. He simply pretends to be asleep as he waits for you to leave, simply peeking at your dress though almost closed eyes, and he wishes he didn't do it. Your scent is driving him crazy already, yet you were always careful to cover up around him, seemingly conscious about him and the fact that he is, apart from his cat side, still a young man. He wont ever be able to burn that image of your perfect legs in that perfect little dress out of his mind now that he's seen it. And its the kiss you place on his cheek that pushes him over the edge, makes him struggle to stay composed until he can hear the front door close shut.

He whines out, turning around on the bed as he buries his face into the sheets, into the spot that's usually occupied by your form. It still smells like you; not like you when you try to use perfume, which he hates, but your unmasked smell he absolutely loves. It fills his senses, makes him squirm on the mattress as he turns, bunching the sheets between his legs as he begins to hump into nothing, the friction of the bed sheets enough to rile him up as he bites the pillow your head usually rests on. He can see it in front of him vividly like a dream he's experiencing right in that moment. You, laid out underneath him, his teeth not clamping down on fabric but your delicate skin, making such wonderful noises as he takes you like the good and sweet girl you are for him. How enticingly you would mewl, arching your back as he guides his leaking cock inside you, stretching you out as his hands would hold you close, keep you upright so you wont just smash onto the mattress onto your face. He curses as he picks up his pace, simple movement not enough anymore as his hand reaches down, frustratingly palming his impatient erection hidden underneath his sweatpants as his dream continues, showing him how you would say his name, breathlessly, as you would look over your shoulder.

Then it shifts, as his mind is suddenly focusing on your face. Would you be into giving him head? Oh god, if you would, he knows he wouldn't be able to last; with your innocent eyes, kneeled in front of him, so eagerly taking his cock he couldn't help but cum inside your throat. And he knows you would be such a good kitten, you would swallow him down prettily, and he would praise you so good. "Hnng, fuck..!" He exclaims, as he writhes on top of the sheets, messing everything up, but he doesn't care.

He never really thought about that weird missionary position humans liked, but he could actually see the appeal of it, if he was doing it with you. To be able to see every change of your features, how your soft lips would part in pleasure as he fills you up like you should be, oh it would be a sight for him to see. His eyes squeeze shut as he turns his head, groaning loudly as he almost sobs brokenly into the pillow, feeling his release stain the fabric of his sweats uncomfortably. But he doesn't care, as he sniffles, breathing heavily before he chuckles.

"Fuck, I'm pathetic."

Can hybrids outgrow their owners?

It certainly feels like it. Jungkook has been growing more and more distant to you, and you feel as if its your own fault. You must've done something wrong, you assume, as he distances himself more and more not only from you, but everyone else as well. He doesn't pick up a fight with Seokjin anymore, hell, he even let Yoongi inside yesterday. And you try to push back your tears as you walk inside the living room, where he's currently sitting, watching the window, tail lazily swaying softly. Maybe the apartment really was too small for him- you've head your neighborly lady complain recently about that when she saw him through the window. Maybe you weren't the right person for him.

"Jungkookie?" You carefully ask, as you see his tail twitch, a sign that he noticed you. "We need to talk." You start, and he gets up, ready to leave the room.

"Well I don't want to though, your bad." He responds, and you reach for his hand, as he whips his head around, ready to bite an answer out, but he spots something in your gaze that makes him stop in his tracks.

"We need to.. I can't- I can't make that decision for you, we need to talk about where you wanna go." His brows furrow as he tries to figure out what you're implying, a weird feeling in his gut telling him that it's something he wont like at all. "I want you to be happy, even if its not with me kookie." You sigh out, and he connects the dots, suddenly realizing what you're saying.

"Ho- wait no no-" His eyes widen, and you look at him as he shakes his head at you, suddenly defensive. "You want to give me away?!" He barks out, bushy tail behind him angrily whipping from one side to the other. "I don't want to! You said this is my home, you can't make me leave!" He spits at you, and you grow confused.

"But-" You start. "You've been so uncomfortable around me Kook, it's okay if you don't want to live with me anymore, really. Namjoon said that sometimes Hybrids outgrow their owners-" You say, but Jungkooks eyes glint angrily.

"Namjoon doesn't know shit!" He yells, and you shut up at that. "I don't want to go, I won't ever go!" He finalizes, and you are on your last leg. He's completely confusing you at this point.

"Then tell me what I'm supposed to do! You're clearly not comfortable around me anymore, what am I supposed to do?!" You yell back, voice by far not as strong as his, but it riles him up enough that he snaps.

"There's nothing you can do about my fucking hormones giving me wet dreams about you like a teenager!" He says, and your eyes widen, making his ears grow red in shame. "There, I said it. Want me to spell it out? I want to fuck you, there you go!" He says, throwing his hands in the air for good measure as he breathes heavily, giving both of you a moment to process his confession. He suddenly grows more quiet, more calm, his voice in no way as harsh and loud as before. "No.. no that's not right." He admits, and comes to conclusion that its now or never. "I want to hold you at night like a lover does, not just a hybrid and his owner. I want you to see me as a partner, not just as a pet." he states, gaze falling downwards as his ears flop to the sides, tail unmoving behind him.

"I never saw you as just a pet, Koo." You say, and he perks up at that, as you walk closer to him, hugging him closely, as he stands a bit awkwardly, before deciding to hug you back. "I didn't want to take advantage of you." You say, and he grows hopeful.

"Does that mean you.. like me like that?" He asks, and you nod into his chest.

Making him grin like an idiot.

Its after this moment that things slowly change a bit. He's still picking on you whenever he can, but he's also being awfully suggestive ever since your talk. Its like he wants to know what runs your gears more clearly these days, as he's making sure to flaunt his post workout body every now and then just to see you turn red at the sight.

He loves how he makes you shy.

Its you however, who breaks him first.

The day he can't keep his hands off of you is the day the spider in your shower decided to jump down on you, scaring the life out of your body as you screach in horror, fleeing the scene in nothing but a towel as you safe yourself into the bedroom, where Jungkook had been taking a nap before hearing your scream. He's ready to laugh at you, until he notices the towel barely hanging onto what you hold against your chest, skin still slightly damp as only your hair is still dry. He can't help himself anymore. "Hm.. how about I get your mind off of that scary little insect?" He humms from behind you, and you open your mouth to retort a snappy remark, but you don't get that far.

He's already behind you, his legs placing themselves next to yours on the bed as he hooks his own over yours, spreading your legs for him as he takes the bits of towel out of your hands, making it fall to the sides, revealing your body to him, at last. He can't help but lick his lips at the sight he gets from over your shoulder, purring loudly as he licks at your neck, finally getting a taste of you; and it's energizing, like a drug, making a shiver run through his spine as his tail twitches behind him in pleasure. You gasp out loud as he bites down, hand reaching between your legs to move his middle and ring finger inside your already wettening center, making him groan. "So ready.." He muses, loving the sounds you make, as he obnoxious noise of squelching from the wettness between your legs with every movement of his fingers fills the room. You struggle to close your legs at the sensation, but he doesn't let you; instead gently hitting your cunt as if to put you back into place, while he groans. "Bad girl. This is mine, isn't it?" He asks, and you can't answer for a moment. "This-" He says, his hand forcefully coming down onto your pussy again, as you squeal from it. "Is mine, isn't it?" He asks again, and you nod over and over again, making him smile. "That's right. And I do what I want with it." He says, before he pumps his fingers in and out at a relentless pace, uncaring of the mess he's making as you squirm and mewl in his lap. He loves this, loves how the sounds he imagined you making can't ever compare to what he's currently hearing. He has to take you.

He removes his hand, undressing himself impatiently as he turns you over for him, behind presented to him as he licks his lips again. "So pretty." He praises, and pumps his length once, twice, before he enters your smooth center, already feeling as if he's in heaven. "I promise I-" He starts, but has to moan out as you clench around him particularly hard. "I promise I'll be gentle next time-" He says, before his palms find your breasts, kneading them in his palms as he kisses along your spine. "But I need you." He whines out, making you huff out a breath as you look over your shoulder, just like he imagined. "Fuck!" He presses out, skin against skin one of the many sounds apart from your heavy breathing and shared sounds of pleasure inside the room, spider long forgotten as you suddenly arch your back into him. "My kitten's gonna cum? Hm?" He asks, and a cute moan is all he gets- all he needs, as you try to get up a bit more, making him push your neck into the pillows below, careful to let you breath as your cheek is what meets the fabric below, his other hand brushing away your hair lovingly, so that he can watch you come undone. "So sweet, so submissive.." He humms out, as he dips down, your back against his chest as he kisses underneath your earlobe, amusement clear in his voice. "Such a cute little whore for me, my sweetest princess, so beautiful.." He praises, and you moan out obscenely as you come, his pace never stopping once. "You're gonna have to-" He says, moving more desperately now to reach his own peak. "You're gonna have to take it baby." He presses out, holding your hips as he forces them onto him with more strength, making you whine in overstimulation. "Almost there- there we go-" He exclaims, uncaringly rubbing your clit between your legs as you shiver violently underneath him, second orgasm hitting you so quickly that your body can't seem to prepare itself as you feel wetness escape you, making him groan loudly. "What a good girl, look at that- ah!" He exclaims, pushing himself as deep as he can as you feel him spurt his load inside you, finally stopping, finally calming down.

"Jungkook?" You ask out of breath, as he simply holds you close, still buried inside of you, falling to the side as he buries his nose in between the crook of your neck.

"Hmm.. no, lets stay like that.." He humms sleepily, and you simply close your eyes, agreeing to his statement.

Jungkook is not a sweet cat- but he certainly has his moments.

"Kitten?" He asks, as he notices you being weirdly quiet next to him on the couch, now noticing the tears on your cheeks. "You're such a crybaby!" He laughs, as he wipes away your tears with his sweater sleeve, making you pout.

"Not fair." You mumble out, and he simply chuckles, placing a kiss ontop of your nose.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #hybrid imagine #hybrid jungkook #hybrid jungkook imagine #hybrid smut #hybrid jungkook smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut

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whorekneecentral · 3 years ago

Note

Brat tamer Luca??? Dom being a dom? You have me in shambles over here 😭

Imagine that- and having to make sure no one can see the marks next time you wear a dress or when you’re changing in the locker room 👀 someone on the team asking you “what happened to your legs??” Only for their eyes to slightly travel and realize what (and who) the marks are from (and probably earning a cocky smirk across the room from Dom) ✋🏼🥴

babe, this has been in my inbox for so long, so sorry + glad to be of service in putting you in shambles LMAOOO

----

Deacon and Annie were having their annual summer bbq and Deacon had left already but everyone else had to work so you were all heading over after shift.

The locker room was full; Street and Chris were talking about something, Victor and Hondo were trying to decide who would drive and you were changing while your boyfriend, Luca was still in the shower.

You were sitting on the bench, rubbing lotion on your leg when Luca walks into the locker room, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck as he passes to his locker.

“Get a room,” Street teases, Luca smacks his arm playfully.

“Why don’t you and Chris get one?” Luca glances at the pair, making Chris roll her eyes but Jim blushes.

Your hand pressed down a little too hard on your thigh when you rubbed the lotion on. You ignore the pain, standing to put the bottle back into your locker.

“Woah, lady. What happened to your leg?” Hondo asks you, eyes on the back of your thigh. “What?” you ask him, trying to look back at your thigh.

Hondo’s hands are on your shoulder, shifting you to the full length mirror in the room to show you the blue-ish bruise on the back of your thigh, peeking out under the hem of your dress.

“Oh, probably hit it on something.” you hum, eyes meeting Luca who was looking over at you in the mirror.

Hondo notices the glances between the two of you, shaking his head as he laughs. “You two are fucked up.” he pats Luca on the back as he steps out of the room.

A few moments later, everyone cleared out while you waited for Luca. You were putting the finally touches on your makeup when Luca walks over, hugging you from behind, your hand coming down to rest on his.

“You took your punishment so well,” he hums, chin resting on your shoulder as his hand slides down your waist to the hem of your dress. You smile at him, turning your cheek to meet his lips.

“Luca, we’re gonna be late.” His hand is under your dress now, sliding down the front of your panties.

“It’s fine, Deac won’t mind.”

Your head drops back onto his shoulder, a moan passing your lips as you feel his fingers on your clit.

“Such a good girl, still want to leave?” he asks you, going to move his hand but your own hand wraps around his wrist, pulling him back.

“Are you two com- oh gross!” Street shouts as he spins on his heels, his back facing the two of you as the door shuts. “They’re not coming, Hondo!” Jim shouted to the man as he basically sprints away from the door.

#dominique luca #dominique luca smut

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attackonmango · 3 years ago

Text

|Party of Five|Jean x Reiner x Reader x Marco x Bertholdt|Smut|

|This is a pretty long, disgusting and sexual one shot, that I wrote to The Take. It will be upward of a few thousand words, so I hope you like long, smutty chapters. Party of 5, right this way ;)|

"Go clean the showers, brat; you used them last," Levi ordered as he stopped by your room to assign your latest late-night chore. You tried your hardest not to groan out loud. It would help if you had listened to your roommate Ymir who told you to wait until morning.

"Aye, Aye, captain," you muttered, cursing him in your head as he left your shared quarters.

Heading to the supply closet, you grab two dozen handmade rags, a few buckets and a bunch of cleaning products.

The walk to the shower building wasn't far, thankfully. Though the sun has been down for a few hours, the summer air was still suffocating.

"I guess I'd rather be cleaning the showers than shovelling horse shit," you mutter as you pass by the smelly barn. You were laughing to yourself as you listen to Sasha and Connie argue, irritated due to the vile fumes that their masks couldn't protect them from.

As you make it to the showers, you hear laughter inside, and as you open the doors, it only gets louder.

You see Reiner, Jean, Bertholdt and Marco, chasing each other with towels. You watch as they pop each other with them, screaming when it came in contact with their skin.

As Jean and Bertholdt ran past you, Bertholdt popped you with a towel though he aimed for Jean. You cried out in pain, laughing due to shock. "Damn! That shit hurt." you scoffed, partially playing.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Bertholdt apologized profusely as he squinted his eyes, scratching his neck. His face flushed red as he looked at you with embarrassment.

Nodding, you raise your hands to put space between the two of you, "Just don't hit me anymore, accidental or on purpose." you laugh, and he joins in shyly.

"I'm guessing Levi set you to clean the girl's showers?" he asked, creating small talk to avoid awkward silence. He was thankful you had forgiven him so quickly.

"Yea, I'm gonna be here for a while. Not as long as you guys tho, I hear it's pretty bad in there." you laugh to yourself. That rumour has been floating around for a while since training began.

"It is; we've been here since six” Bertholdt exasperated. You both part ways, Bertholdt back on the hunt for Jean.

For the next two hours, you wipe up the wet floors, clean off the mirrors and toilets. You moped and began to clean individual showers. You made sure to make everything pristine as white, exactly how Levi likes it. You didn't want to be back down here tomorrow.

Something tells you that the boys would though, their laughter and the sounds of them running echoed of the walls. They definitely weren’t cleaning. Sometimes you'd see Jean, looking for the rag he lost hours ago. Reiner and Bertholdt rough housing like usually and Marco trying to get everyone to remain on task.

Suddenly in ran Marco, wailing as he raced from Reiner who carried a sloshing bucket of clear water. “I’m just trying to get out of here early? Whats so wrong with that?” Along with “I’m sorry, is that what you want to hear?”

You watch as Marco rans in your direction as Reiner braced himself to throw the clean water. “Hey chill out! I just wiped the floor.” You scold in protest.

Reiner shook his head, adamant that he do what he planned. “A little bit of water never hurt no body.” After that, everything went in slow motion. Marco slipped behind Y/N as the water splashed down on her.

"Yah!" You cried out as Reiner attempted to splash Marco with an entire bucket of water, but he moved out of the way as cold water pierced your skin; the boy's eyes widened as they drifted towards you. Their laughing came to a halt as they started. "Oh shit, " Reiner and Marco exclaim as they still their feet.

Plenty of the water splashed into your mouth and nose, causing you to cough it up. Hacking in front of Marco and Reiner, as your eyes pricked with tears. “Assholes.” You muttered before groaning loudly.

Reiner and Marco swallow thickly as they notice your tears of distress. Too bad they lacked sympathy, as you looked too good for them to care.

"I told you guys to fucking cool it, now I'm wet," you scold them as the shirt clung to your skin. You ran your hands through your hair as you sighed, frustration coursing through you. If looks could kill, they’d be dead because you were pissed.

You pay no attention to Jean and Bertholdt as they walk over to the girl showers, not noticing the way their eyes bulged in their sockets.

You watched as a blush crept up Marco's cheeks as he looked the other direction, refusing to make eye contact, Jean's mouth ajar, both surprise and pure happiness etched on his features.

"Hello, excuse me?" you glared as your hands landed on your hips, as one side jutted out. You turned to glare at Reiner, who grinned, staring intensely at your chest as Bertholdt turned around to avoid your gaze altogether.

Suddenly you shivered, glancing down; you notice you had a white shirt on. A wet white shirt on. "Oh shit!" You cried out, hands flying to cover your breast that we're on full display.

You couldn’t turn away because they stood around you on all sides, and someone would get a eyeful of tits. The best you could do was hiding them behind your arms and hands.

You laughed nervously, absolutely flustered, "Advert your eyes." Your face flushed as you shifted on your feet. Your heart raised as the situation set in. Reiner had exposed you while targeting Marco in front of the 4 of them while they gaped at you. Glancing around, you couldn't help but notices the pitches in their shorts.

"They look great, " Jean chuckled, raising a brow at you. He felt no shame as he drank in your figure. Jean always thought you were sexy. The way your breast filled your shirt, he noticed the way they bounced as you ran.

Reiner visibly cringed, tossing his head back with laughter. "You sound creepy, horse face." Reiner stalked towards you, his eyes flickering from your chest to your bottom lip that you had sucked between your teeth, chewing it until it had gotten red. The look in his eyes weakening your taut knees.

"And you're not?" Jean shot back at Reiner, who ignored him.

"My apologies, Y/N, that bucket was for Marco, " Reiner muttered huskily as he hooked a finger under the hem of your shirt as water dripped down your thighs, tugging harshly. The way he towered over you had you reeling.

Marco loved how plush your thighs were; though he was a gentleman, he isn't innocent. He could see himself dying happily with his head in between them. He couldn't curb the pang of jealousy that washed over him as Reiner toyed with your shirt. You were petrified and enticed as he did so.

You have always found Reiner attractive, as well as the other boys in the room. You had watched thrm grow from boys to men over tge last few years. So his proximity and gaze caused heat to pool in your pants, as you drank in his Earthy scent. His cool breath wafted across your face and the cold water he dumped on you. It didn’t help as the other peered down at you like predator ready to jump on prey. But that’s what this was, wasnt it.

Reiner's next question caused your jaw to drop, "Would you let us take you right here?" You hadn't noticed how close the boys had gotten, Jean and Reiner more so than the others. Reiner lifted his hand to cup your face, his callous hand tracing stars on your cheek.

Your eyes widened as you stared in shock, stepping back until someone pulled you into them, "I-" a hand groping your hip stole your will to speak.

"I bet she would, " Jean purred in your ear, as he pressed himself against you from behind. His clothed length rutting against your full bottom, he massaged your hips, causing your mind to race. "Don't say you haven't thought about it, love, having your brains fucked out while we use you." Jean wasn't wrong; you constantly thought of having to be under them while they ravaged your body, using up whatever they pleased. You thought of all the possibilities of dirty things they could do to you. But you never thought you’d do anything with one of them, in front of the rest of them. And you definitely didn’t think you’d be with all of them at the same time.

You find yourself absent-mindedly backing into Jean, loving the way his length prodded your butt. His fingers dig into your waist as he sensually moved his hips. "See, she's eager." Jean chuckled darkly as he reaches to grab a full fist of hair. He anchors your head, causing you to stare up at Reiner through hooded eyes. "Tell him, slut." You couldn't fight it as you were filled with desire. Usually, that word would hurt your feelings, but given the situation and opportunity at hand, it made you want more than a bit of friction.

Reiner looked down at you, his eyes soft as he waits for your answer. "It is the least you could do," your lashes flutter as you pull away from Jean enough to slip your sodden shirt off. Catering to your nerves, you covered yourself the best you could until Jean pulled your hands away.

"Definitely," Reiner muttered as his hands wander your upper body. Dropping to his knees, he guided your exposed breast into his mouth. His tongue swirled around your sensitive nipple as he tugged, nibbling slightly. You feel him grin as your breathy moans escape you, as you shuddered under their touch. Jean's palms were kneading your ass in his hands. He smirked as you crumple in him and Reiner's grasp as he mutters what he plans on doing to you.

You don't protest as Jean pulled your pants down, lifting your legs out of them. They were quickly discarded since they were no longer needed, along with your panties. His long fingers playing at your entrance.

Your hands danced around in Reiner's hair as he suckled on your bust. As you moaned softly, you tried your hardest not to push his head, but to no avail.

"Slow down, baby, " Reiner muttered as he pulled away, spit trailing from his lips to your sensitive bud, his eyes dilated as he palmed himself through his shorts. "You'll get what you want." The authority in his voice caused your core to dampen; you rub your moist thighs together to ease your desire. You nodded at him, signaling you understand.

“Atta girl,” he muttered, his thumb brushing over your cheek, wiping away water. A pout falls upon your lips as he pulled away too fast for your liking.

"Take these off, " Reiner ordered, referring to his clothes as he pinched your erect nipples, moistening them both.

"Yessir," you exasperate, shamelessly; you rush to get his shirt off, drooling as the shower lights glistened on his toned chest. As you worked on his belt, your hands shake causing Jean to laugh, you groan in agitation as you couldn’t even open his belt.

. "Help her out, man, she's struggling." his hand worked faster as he slipped in another digit inside, curling them as he hit your g spot.

Heat fills your stomach as you sigh into Reiner's chest, he pats your head, telling you it okay. “Guess I’ll do it myself.”

You sigh as his hands slip in between you, the familiar jingle of his belt causing you to clench around Jean’s finger. You feel as his hands work on his belt as you took time to revel in pleasure. Jean moved his other hand from your hip to work your clit, using your slick as a lubricant. You sank deeper into his arms while Reiner worked his belt off along with his pants.

It fell to the ground, the metal on it clinking as it hit the floor. You grin sexily as Reiner stood in all his glory. "There. Now finish," he spoke curtly. Slipping your hand into his boxers, you pull them down. Jumping as his cock sprang out, hitting your face because you were sandwiched between the two. Reiner’s dick was long and thick, his tip swollen with anticipation and his tip pink with want. You trail your fingers down his veins that were prominent on all sides, smiling as he sighed sensually, dick throbbing in your hands. Your eyes cut to Marco, who stood watching, panting slightly as his hand with hand in his pants. Bertholdt stood watching; his breathing laboured as he watched with a red face, his dick hard as well."What about those two, " you mutter as you stare into their eyes.

"Don't worry about them, " Jean spoke harshly as he pulled his clothes off his skin. "We're busy for now."

"Look at you, so interested in someone else's needs." Reiner praised once more, peppering your lips with soft kisses. "They'll get a turn. Right now, we're playing."

Jean pulls your legs, spreading them out. His hand trailed down your back as he kissed your neck, leaving love bites when he can. Jean pressed on the small of your back, asking you to arch. He leaned you down, your face in front of Reiner’s dick, who cupped your chin again, his fingers brushing against your lip as you sat on your hands and knees.

"Say ah," as he patted your face, his voice tantalizing and husky with seduction, asking you to open your mouth, you almost instantly complying. He guided his dick to and past your lips, brushing his pre-cum on your plush, full and moistened lips. Licking them, you hum with delight. Wrapping your tongue around his tip, you pull Reiner by his thighs as close as you could without choking.

You shudder as Jean aligned himself at your entrance, his tip drawing circles on your clit as you buck your hips involuntarily. Your moaning sent vibration down Reiner's length.

You grew irritated as Jean teased your hole with the swole tip of himself, you push away from Reiner, enough so you could be. “Don’t leave me hanging, Jean.” You muttered back at the brunette who glared darkly. You shiver as sly laughter fell from his lips.

A scream shot in you as Jean plunged into, slamming into your sweet spot. You couldn’t help the way Jean pushed you into Reiner, causing you to gagged around him. Your nose scrunches up as more precum slides down your throat as he throbbed on your wet muscle.

Making quick use of your throat, Reiner hips began to rock in a slow, tight motion as he fucked your face slowly, one hand on the back of your head, knotted loosely in your hair. The other is under your armpit and wrapped around your shoulder, tugging you farther from Jean.

Warm drool pools in your mouth and down your chin. It dribbled down his waist, slicking his balls, the squelching of your throat and the feel of your tongue lapping him up as you hummed on his dick as Jean teased your womanhood drove him insane, as he pulled you you closer, watching your mouth swallow him up, again and again.

"F-fuck, so good." Reiner sputtered out praise, massaging the back of your head gently with one hand. It was a miracle you could breathe because the two of them weren't giving you a chance.

Marco's hand was in his pants, pumping away slowly, chasing a nut as he watched Reiner and Jean play tug of war with you and manhandled you. Listening to you cry out and moan was enough to cause him to erupt all over his hand. You groan at the empty feeling you feel as Jean pulls out. It didn’t last long though, as you squelch and pucker around him.

Suddenly you cried out as Jean pushed into your pulsating core, stuffing you even though he hadn't bottomed out. You're hogging Y/N, Reiner," Jean growled, his hands digging into your hips, pulling your ass apart. He watched part of his long and girthy shaft reappear and disappear from inside of you. "Let up, bro."

"Fuck no," Reiner breathed out, his eyes fluttering as he sighed, followed by more praise. Jean tugged you closer to him, against Reiner's needy and robust grip, pressing on your back, fixing your arch. To him, it wasn't deep enough; your ass needs to be higher. "Keep that arch, dammit."

You body lunges back and forth as they fuck into you simultaneously. You knees weaken as the realization sets in. To them, you were a rag doll, something they could use because you’d never stop them. You enjoyed it too much.

You cried out as Jean's large and heavy hand landed on your ass with a loud smack. His hands moved from your hips to your stomach; he slammed into the rest of the way and withdrew, leaving you feeling empty. Delicious pain shot through you as he pushed up back inside you.

The wetness of your mouth and your screams sending vibration down his dick, Reiner's hips to stall as he began to shake. To know that you even had this power over him caused you to clench around Jean.

Reiner moved his hands back to your head, tightening his grip in your now tangled hair. His dick hit the back of your throat as he forcefully pushed you closer to Jean, who thrust relentlessly, his head tossed make in pleasure. Reiner emptied himself down your throat, holding you in place as he forced you to take his load. "Swallow it all, beautiful." which you had no choice but to oblige; thankfully, he tasted pretty good. Sweeter than salty.

He moved a hand to your jaw, rubbing it softly as you breathed out heavily as he pulled out of your mouth with an audible pop. "Open up," he omitted quietly, tapping your chin. He wiped the wetness of tears from your eyes as you looked up at him through wet lashes, fighting moans as Jean also got sloppy with his thrusts.

Opening your mouth, Reiner looked inside and smiled constantly. "Good job, you did so well." though he was on his knees, he leaned down to kiss you right as your much-awaited orgasm shot through you as Jean's dick rubbed against you g spot, his thumb playing with your sensitive clit, the warm pit in your stomach boiling over as you spilled out onto Jean's pulsating length.

You pulled away from Reiner and cried out as Jean pulled you close to him, pinning your hands behind your back as he fucked you through your orgasm, laying you against the cold tiles that cut through your warmth. He laid on top of your shaking figure; he laid perfectly on your arch, putting all his weight on you to hold you down. Pulling out of you, Jean came on your ass, using a hand to smear it all over you. You noticed that Bertholdt finally turned around, a concerned look on his face as he held a rag, sitting in a chair.

Finally letting you go, Jean stood up smiling as he watched you lay on the ground. Walking around you, he stands at your hand. Watching your chest heave up and down made satisfaction shoot through him. "Told you that you'd like it." Jean laughed at your dazed expression, glazed over eyes and a tired and euphoric smile on your face.

Before Jean could get into aftercare, Bertholdt swooped you up as you cried out. You were sensitive, and they were pretty rough. "Aftercare is essential. Let's clean you up, baby." Bertholdt held you close, smiling softly as you looked at him through teary eyes.

He sat back in the chair, using the damp rag to wipe away the spit that covered your face, along with the nut on your ass, and also your folds, while he told you how perfect you had been, how sexy it was to watch his friends use you while your face was in his shirt. "Can you do me a favour?"

Looking up, you nodded your head, listening to whatever Bertholdt is about to say. You would speak, but you were still coming down from your high.

"Let me taste you." Passion burns in his eyes as Bertholdt licks his lips. You couldn't say no, not to that face. You hear the other boys laugh and tease the both of you.

You hide your face in his shirt as he wraps his around you, "you don't have to, but I'd like it." he muttered so only you could hear. He was giving you an out; if today had been too much, then Bertholdt hoped to do it someday along the line.

" I want to," you say hoarsely, your throat still ached from Reiner. "Let's lay by the shower," Bertholdt instructed as he covered your named body to one of the showerheads. He positioned you so that the water would hit your upper stomach. Turning it on to the lowest setting, water gently spurts out of the faucet, spraying a warm mist over your body that ached from being slutted out by Jean and Reiner. Who knew the pairing made for a devilish dicking down.

Bertholdt brought you back to his attention as he lifted your legs over his shoulders. He scooted close enough to smell your desire. He teased your clit with a light brush of his fingers. You cry out, the feeling of want to build deeply inside you.

"Such a tease," you muttered, bucking your hand against his skimming hand. Laughing lightly at you, Bertholdt teases your clit a few times before he sucked on it. Your thigh squeeze, involuntarily but Bertholdt opened your legs up. His tongue danced around your clit, rolling it between his lips as you began to moan out, your hands resting on his head, tingling as water lightly drizzles upon your arm. Bertholt put his arms around you, massaging your tummy in his hand while his tongue rubbed your clit. He sucked on every part of your pussy, that he could.

As he began to fuck you with his tongue, he dropped a hand down to run a tight circle with his thumb on your clit. Convulsing, you bucked your hips to match the flow of his tongue, working for your orgasm. Your breath began laboured as you met eyes with the other guys.

“Such a good girl, look at the way your grinding into Bert’s face,” Marco praised as you began to hump their friend’s face while he worshiped you with his tongue.

"You look adorable when you are about to cum," Reiner teased as he chuckled at your expression. You couldn't help but chew your lip with anticipation for your release.

"I can't believe you are this slutty," Jean laughed as he fucked you with his eyes.

You began to babble, at a loss for words due to their words and Bertholdt devouring you like he hadn’t ate earlier today in the mess hall

They loved to see you so vulnerable like this; it was a side not many seen since you were a seasoned soldier. But to see you mewling around through touch was enough to drive them nuts. They often all fantasized about you, they knew that they had a mutual crush on you, which they playfully argued about but it was nothing detrimental. And now, here they are, fucking you together, and jacking off to the way your face contorted and the way your body twisted, begging for more.

“Damn, if i knew, ah, that your mouth was this good, I would’ve hopped on a lot sooner.” You breathed out, hard carding through his soft brown hair.

“You taste so damn sweet,” Bertholdt muttered, his nose nudging your pulsating clit as he dipped his tongue into your core. He groaned at the way you tasted as he spread you open, licking a bold strip down your folds.

You watch the others as they pump away with their cocks in hand. Black dots cover your vision as you feel another orgasm shoot through to, Soaking Bertholdt's chin and lips as he lapped up your orgasm, his hands massaging away at your tummy.

Curses leave your lips as you rock your hip into his mouth that attempted to swallow your soul. "Ah~ Fuck!" you cried out, tears pricking in your eyes.

"It's okay, Y/N." Marco's voice echoes through you as you shook with pleasure. Reaching for him, Marco took his hand in yours, and he used the other one to brush your tears away. "You've been doing so good, now of your turn to be pleasured." he purred in your ear as he guided you through your second orgasm.

You latch onto his lips with yours, your tongue fighting to devour each other. Marco grinned at your breathy moans that he swallowed.

As your moans came to a stop, you couldn't help but lightly push Bertholdt away from your center. You were way too sensitive, and if he could have it his way then, you'd be there in that spot, all damn night.

He laughed as he laid eyes on you, you looked fucked beyond your comprehension, and your mind was still catching up. "You tasted amazing, thank you." Bertholdt pressed his lips to yours one last time to let you taste yourself.

Humming in his mouth, you hug him. You felt thankful and were in utter bliss. You've never been fucked so good before. This was your first 5-some, and you knew this was heavily frowned upon, but these four made you feel the best you have ever felt.

Reiner handed you your shorts and his undershirt so that you could get dressed. "So," he began, both of your faces glowing red and hot. "I think I speak for the guys when I say, this was fun. If you weren't satisfied, or this isn't your thing, we don't have to do it again, but we could." Reiner trailed off as the guys mutually agreed out loud. “Shit we would be more than welcome to doing this frequently.”

"It was enjoyable, a bit too enjoyable. It seems like now we are a party of 5, causing regular sex isn't going to cut it if I can be fucked with that," you laugh as you slip your clothes on. Pressing your lip to Reiner's lips and then each boy after that.

"Reiner and Jean," you call as you break away from your kiss with Bertholdt. "Next time, maybe don't fight with each other." you giggle as they awkwardly grin with knowing smiles.

"You liked it," Jean muttered as he pulled you into him, tucking you into his side as he kisses the top of your head.

"I did, now let's finish." you admitting, grabbing your things to finish cleaning before Levi makes an appearances. You ignored the shaking of your legs until you had finished. The five of you are finally at the dorms when you collapse into Marco, who carried you back.

Like you had said, it was like a guilty pleasure. You enjoyed being around beautiful men who wanted on you hand and foot. They were amazing and the sex was great too.

#attack on titan #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtein x reader #marco bott #marco bodt #marco bodt x reader #reiner braun smut #shingeki no kyojin #imagines #smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #bertholdt x reader #jean brainrot #reiner brainrot

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xtinyaurora · 4 years ago

Note

hi can I request a reaction with ateez? how would they back hug their s/o? can you please make it detailed and super fluffy 🥺 thank you

Ateez reaction: Back hugs with Y/N

__________________________________________

➼ requested?: yes

➼ genre: fluff

➼ pairing: Ateez x neutral!reader

➼ Word-count: 2,2k+

➼ Warnings: none? Maybe pet names, neck / cheek kisses and playing with your tummy, idk. 💀 If there are any more, please let me know!

➼ Note: This is not based on their real behavior or meant to represent real life. This is simply a fan fiction and is only for the purposes of fun, it’s a hobby. Read at your own risk!

➼ A/N note: Sorry for not posting in a longer time, my metal state gets worse from day to day but I will try and give my best to update more often now. Please motivate me by giving me some feedback! 🥴 Let me know if any of you wants to be in or excluded to my taglist!

➼ Taglist: @teeztheflag @darkstarlights

__________________________________________

Park Seonghwa

You two were out for a date. After finishing your dinner, both of you went out to the balcony of the noble restaurant you were eating at. You had a perfect view of the city, all the shining lights adding a magical feeling to it. Seonghwa was hugging you from behind, taking in the smell of your shampoo. „It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” A smile creeped on your face. „It is. Thank you for bringing me here, Hwa.” Now he was the one smiling. „Of course, honey.” He now placed a few kisses on your cheek. It felt so good, you didn’t wanted this moment to end. „Thank you, Y/N.” You slightly turned your head in his direction, wondering what he could be thankful for. „For what?” He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. „Thank you for being here with me. I’ve never been this happy before.” Your face lit up within a second, eyes shining bright. He’s so cute! „You have no idea how much I love you, Hwa.” Another smile creeped on his face. He was about to kiss you but got interrupted by one of the waiters. „Sir, I will leave the bill on the front desk at the entrance, if that’s ok?” Both of you turned around to face him, then quacking out into a laugher. The waiter seemed confused, so Seonghwa was fast to speak. „Yes, that’s totally fine, thank you.” The waiter gave you a quick nod and left. You looked at each other again, grinning. „He really ruined the moment, ha?” You nodded. „I thought this only happens in movies.”

Kim Hongjoong

A slow song was silently playing in the background. Hongjoong and you lightly swung from side to side, him pressing your back against his chest. It was late at night and you two were finally having a romantic date together. The atmosphere was so relaxing, neither of you wanting this moment to end. Hongjoongs head rested in the crook of your neck, him placing a few kisses on your soft skin every now and then. Now, an hour has passed yet you two didn’t move nor said anything. Honestly, you didn’t had to. You don’t know how but you two communicated through out your minds. Slowly, both of you got tiered. Hongjoong raised his head up and took your hand in his to pull you into your shared bedroom. You two laid down and stared at each other in the eyes. Oh, how you got lost in this this men’s eyes. But it was not only you, Joong felt the same way. He loved your eyes, it was one of his favorite things about you. Reaching up his hand to stroke your cheek, a smile appearing on your face, signaling him that you were thankful for that. Well, you were grateful for everything he has done for you, most importantly for having him in your live. Yet another time at this lovely evening, none of you had to open your mouths to let the other know how much you loved and appreciated each other.

Jeong Yunho

You felt how two arms clung around your waist, while you were washing the dishes. The person behind you then placed a kiss on top of your head and pulled you closer on his body, a smile taking place on your face. „What’s wrong puppy?” You knew that the tall male behind you blushed at that, this happening a lot of times now. „Nothing, I just missed your touch.” You pulled one of your eyebrows up. „Oh? We had a whole cuddle session just a few minutes ago.” Now a laugh left your mouth, Yunho joining you in the process. „That wasn’t enough, I need some more. Now please beautiful human creature, hurry up so I can cage you in my arms for the rest of our lives.” You felt how a bright smile was still plastered on his face, even after speaking. Shaking your head, you cleaned the last few dishes, before turning around and looking straight into the eyes of the smiling boy. Honestly, every time you were with Yunho, you were too happy. Of course you sometimes were scared for loving him so much but you knew that he would never hurt you. Yunho is some that makes sure to show his loved ones, how much he cares for them. He slowly got near your face, making you close your eyes and wait for the kiss to finally appear. When you didn’t felt his lips, you opened your eyes again and started to pout, knowing it was one of Yunhos weaknesses. So, the tall male couldn’t hold back and gave in. Taking your head in his hands, he gave you a long and loving kiss.

Kang Yeosang

After a long and exhausting day, you entered your shared apartment and made your way straight into the living room. Yeosang was laying on the couch, watching TV and eating some snacks. Both of you stared at each other without saying a word. Short after, Yeosang broke the silence. „Hey. Rough day?” You nodded your head. When he opened his arms, you jumped strait in them. Finally getting comfy, you asked if you two could watch a movie. You didn’t had to ask twice, Yeosang immediately opened Netflix and searched for a movie to watch. Once he found one, he got up to get some food. Once he returned, he pressed play and went back to his spot. He tucked you in between his arms and legs, your back pressing against his muscular body. He randomly started to play with the hem of your shirt, now a finger tracing up and down your belly. You lead yourself further into Yeosang and closed your eyes right after, not really caring about the movie anymore. It felt extremely comfortable to lay in his arms that you drifted off to sleep almost immediately. A low chuckle left him when he realized what has happened. „You are really too cute for you own good, Y/N.”

Choi San

You were running as fast as you could, your boyfriend not that far behind. All nine of you kept on shooting each other with water. It was Mingi who suggested to play this game. It was a hot summer day, so why not play around with water guns outside? „Hey, that’s not fair! You can’t protect each other!” Yelled Wooyoung, pointing at you two. „Leave us alone!” Did you yell back, while trying to splash him. He was mad because you escaped from everyone. San made a hand sign to the annoyed boy, no one really getting it except him of course. I guess it’s a Woosan thing... Anyways, Wooyoung seemed happy with whatever San was signaling him and kept on playing. At some point, your protector was nowhere to be found. You tried to look for him while you run away from the rest but then realized that not only he was missing but Woo too. „Oh no, this can’t mean something good...” You whisper to yourself. Out of nowhere, your boyfriend tightly grabbed you from behind. „Got you! Wooyoung, now!” You didn’t really made out on what was happening, you only saw how Wooyoung appeared from behind a tree next to you and aimed his water gun on you. „Goodbye, Y/N-ah.” With a grin, he splashed all of the water at you. Once he was done, San let go of you and gave his accomplices a high five. „San! What are you doing, I thought we are a team?!” You were kinda annoyed, both of them bursting out into laugher. You stormed off to the rest of the group, who seemed to have given up already. „What’s wrong Y/N?” Hongjoong noticed that your mood has fallen. „San ditched me for that brat.” Everyone busted out into laugher, you included. When the other two approached, you immediately stopped. Wooyoung stuck out his tongue, while San sat behind you and gave you a tight hug. „Don’t touch me cheater!” Again, everyone started laughing. „Come on, don’t be mad at me, baby. I will buy you some ice cream, okay?” A smirked appeared on your face. Revenge is sweet Sanie... „Guys! Free ice cream for everyone!”

Song Mingi

„Mingi, I can’t breathe.” You squeaked out while he tightly hugged you from behind. „I can’t help it, I just missed you so much!” You chuckled while rolling your eyes. „It’s been two hours since we last saw each other.” The boy looked at you with his cute googly eyes, mouth lightly agape. „So what? That’s two hours too much! This is absolutely not okay, so let me hug you please!” You gave in, knowing that he will either put on more pressure or start to cry and since you wanted neither of these things to happen, you kept quiet. You don’t really know how long it has been since you two stood outside the garden of your shared home but it was getting dark and the air started to cool off. „Mingi, can you let go now, please? I think that’s enough for today.” He snuggled himself closer on you, not letting go. „Just five more minutes, okay? I wanna enjoy sunset with you. Look, it’s so pretty!” A laugh left your mouth. He’s just too cute and pure for this world. You did watch, until the sun completely disappeared. When it was completely dark outsides, you forced the giant boy into your house, him still clinging on you. Once you reached your kitchen, you asked him to leave you alone so you could prepare dinner. „I don’t want to let go, Y/N. Please keep cuddling me! You’re so comfy!” You finally turned around and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. „I promise I will cuddle you as much as you want once I finished cooking, okay? Now go and search for a movie that we can watch while eating, puppy.” You noticed the light tint of pink on his cheeks. Another one that gets flustered when being called pet names. Mingi obediently nodded his head and turned around to complete the task you gave him, patiently waiting for you to finish.

Jung Wooyoung

He was trying to teach you how to play a game on his ps4 and to his surprise, you were extremely good. „Whoa! How are you so good at this, Y/N?!” He asked surprised, raising his time a bit in the process. You turned your head around to wink at him, a smirk forming on your lips. You then payed your attention back on the TV and kept on playing. For the whole time, your boyfriend cheered for you. His arms were still tightly around you tho. At some point he leaned back, since you didn’t wanted to stop playing. Of course he pulled you down with him, you now laying on top him but still having a good view at the game. He started to get bored so he closed his eyes while softly stroking your belly. When he stopped, you looked back at him, finding him sleeping. You couldn’t help but smile at him. You finished the last round of the game and turned the TV off. Since you didn’t wanted to wake him up, you just snuggled yourself on Woo and pulled the blanket on your lap higher. Closing your eyes, you tried to sleep but opened them again when you felt his hand caressed your head. You tried to look at him but he stopped you by pressing you head on his chest. „Sleep. It’s late and you promised that we will go to the amusement park tomorrow.” You scoffed with a smile on your face and gave him an okay. It didn’t take long until both of you fell asleep.

Choi Jongho

„I mean, I’ve putted so much effort in this! I really don’t know why it didn’t work out. This is so unfair, like I-“ „Pshh I know Y/N, I know. Clam down. It’s not worth it to get upset about this, things like that can happen but still you can be proud of yourself because it’s such a big step to even get it done so far. It might doesn’t look like the one you wanted to creat but it’s still extremely pretty. It’s just the left arm side that’s a bit messed up but nothing too tragic, so chill. You can only do a good job when you’re relaxed and free, so take a break, okay?” You nodded your head in agreement, thank him by smiling. He then moved closer to you and hugged you from behind, the dress you were working on standing in front of you two. You worked so many hours on that dress, it costed you so much effort and yet you still messed up. It was only one damn cut. Jongho pulled you out of your working room, you still between his strong arms. „Put your shoes on. I think it’s better to go out for a walk, to get some fresh air.” You actually didn’t wanted to but I guess you have to because he sure won’t let go of you anytime soon. „Can you let go till I put them on then?” He smirkingly shook his head. „Nope, I won’t let go of you.” You rolled your eyes, trying to put your shoes on. Once you were done, the male grabbed your waist and legs, now carrying you out of your shared apartment. Oh this boy...

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ack3rlady · 4 years ago

Text

The Universe Had His Back - Chapter 7

Summer

Chapters: Six | Seven

Master List

Warnings: Fluff, Fluff and more Fluff

Word Count: ~2.74k

Inspiration: Don't Go - Exo

A/N: And with this chapter, I conclude this series. Thank you for all the love you all gave my baby project!

Tags: @sooibian, @queenofcurse, @red-n-tall, @badbitxhbuckybarnes , @sweet-assh0le

‘Why am I nervous? We've done much more than just kiss. For fucks sake! I'm the mother of his child.’

You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down before pushing the cart from behind your truck towards the large glass doors of the café. You had offered to take today’s batch of bread and pastries to Levi’s to snag a chance to see him, much to Mikasa’s annoyance.

“Oi, brat! You’re late.”, Levi remarked without looking up from his laptop when the bell above the door rang with your entrance, expecting her to have finally arrived.

“Levi, I’m so sorry! I made an impromptu decision to come here instead of Mikasa and -”, you emerged from behind the lofty stack of boxes.

Your hair was up in a messy bun, you were panting from hauling the weight and the resultant perspiration made you glow. Your continual rambling about why you were late, instantly gave him a feeling of Déjà vu, hurling him eight years back in time to the morning when he first laid his eyes on you. Mirroring that day, he couldn’t focus on anything you were saying, gawking at you with unblinking eyes given how stupefied he was by the sight before his eyes and the sound of your voice.

“Levi? Are you listening?”, you waved your hand in front of his face, disrupting the mental movie playing in his head.

“Huh? Oh, y-yeah. Hi.” he shook his head vigorously and blinked a few times to bring himself back to the present.

Both a blushing mess, you stood by the entrance to the cafe, smiling at each other like two smitten high-schoolers.

“Are you finally back together?”, a shriek from the opposite end of the seating area made your ears ring.

The cacophony was loud enough that Erwin’s head immediately peaked out of his office; his face riddled with confusion. Both your necks snapped towards the source - Hange was running in your direction with the brightest grin on their face. Every head in the room was turned towards you. Eren and other new members of staff at the café, Armin, Jean, Sasha and Connie were slack jawed with their gaping eyes fixed on you after being subjected to this abrupt and unnecessary announcement. One look from Levi sent them scrambling back to work.

“Fucking four-eyes.” he mumbled as they came closer.

“I knew it! You lovebirds couldn’t stay apart for long!”, they squealed with joy enveloping you both in an spontaneous group hug, not giving Levi an opportunity to flinch away.

“Shhh! Calm down, Hange! We’re not back together. Yet.”, you tugged on their hands trying to free yourself from their clasp.

Levi's eyes met and stayed on yours when you uttered the last word, the way his heart fluttered at the sound of it clearly reflecting on his face.

Yet.

“But you were together last night. You have both put in way too much effort in your appearances today. And the color on Short-stack's cheeks can be spotted from Mars! What am I missing here?”, they observed, unaware of the heat rising within their two friends thinking about their final moments together at the Ackerman home yesterday.

Always the perceptive one, Hange. They weren’t entirely wrong. You did spend forty minutes in your closet hunting for the one floral lemon-yellow dress that Levi loved seeing you in; piling on deodorant while simultaneously cursing the hot summer. You picked your reflection in the mirror apart for way too long, fiddling with the necklace he bought you ages ago while rehearsing what you would say to him.

By the looks of it, he did too. He looked oh-so handsome today. Granted, he always did. But today was different. He wore your favorite navy-blue button-down shirt with slate grey slacks, sleeves folded to reveal his toned fore arms, and the top two buttons left open to aid with the sweltering heat; or was it because he knew that it made you weak in the knees when he wore his shirts that way? And his cheeks and ears were definitely a brighter shade of pink than the raspberry compote on the cheesecake you brought.

He stood pinching the bridge of his nose, his breathing starting to speed up. You figured it was his attempt at suppressing the strong urge to smack the grin right off Hange’s face.

“Hange, I promise, I’ll give you all the details later. But for now, Levi and I have things to discuss.”, you pulled him away before he could act on his impulse.

Taking a seat at the table by the large bay window, kissed by the morning sun, you watched the city slowly rise awake with your cheek resting on the palm of your hand. Levi, who was walking back from the kitchen with a cup of tea for himself and a caramel latte for you, stopped in his tracks to mentally frame this image. It was as if you were a different person than who he met over the last two days.

There were no signs of the anxious but adoring mother from yesterday nor the bewildered, pained ex-wife from the day before; you were the same clumsy, moody, garrulous, as well as kind, selfless and mesmerizing woman he fell madly in love with when you walked in through the doors of this very place eight years ago. How could one person flood his heart with a barrage of different emotions this way?

You acknowledged him with a soft ‘hi’ accompanied by a smile when he sat down on the chair opposite to you, nervous about the forthcoming conversation. You stole occasional glances at each other while sipping your beverages, hesitating to be the one to say the first word.

“Do you hate me?”, he asked out of the blue, his gaze locked on his cup.

“No! Why would you think that?”

“Uh- you obviously had a chance to think about what I said to you after going home last night. Why would you possibly want to still see me?”

“Well, I’m here, aren't I? I want to work on us if you’re willing to try as well, Levi. I want to see where this takes us.”, you smiled, placing your hand on his.

"Me too."

Four months later

The day of Suki and Furlan's wedding was finally here. The venue was set, guests had arrived and you were busy helping the bride get ready for her special day, having spent all morning with her, Isabel and the other bridesmaids in the bridal suite, chatting away in excitement and anticipation for the day ahead.

“Honestly speaking, Suki, I’d have a hard time keeping my hands off you if I were Furlan”, you teased while draping the veil into her hair, causing her to bury her face into her palms.

“You’re one to talk! Levi has been looking for reasons to see you all morning. I had to turn him away thrice already. I'm pretty sure he is going to murder me after the wedding is over.”, Isabel shot back with a smirk.

The last four months had been nothing short of a whirlwind. After that morning at the cafe, having breakfast with Levi turned into a routine. He brought Luna along on most days, and the three of you spent time chatting and admiring the toddler’s antics over tea and scones while sitting at your usual table by the bay window. Sometimes you’d have her accompany you to the patisserie to give Levi a much-deserved break.

Everyone there was enamored with the little firecracker. Her Uncle Miche had always been her favorite because the gentle giant ferried her around the large kitchen on his shoulders. Bertholdt and Reiner would happily comply to all the orders their mini boss belted out. Annie, although a little awkward around her, listened intently to her endless stories; Mikasa secretly pampered her with numerous treats even after several warnings from you, and Nanaba would fuss over her all the time and try to keep the little one all to herself, earning protests from the others.

The evenings varied between taking Luna to the park or the pier, or just spending time indoors at your place or his. You even celebrated her fourth birthday two weeks ago. All your friends and family, along with some little friends the birthday girl had made at the park were invited. You spent a beautiful evening in the backyard of your house around a bonfire, with a delectable meal and wonderful company.

Levi especially made sure you knew that you were being wooed by taking you out on date nights every now-and-then to the finest of restaurants, walks on the beach, to the drive-in theater a few miles outside your town, or star gazing from your favorite spot up the nearby hill. You both were working through your differences and had barely had any disagreements during the time spent together. Things were slowly falling in place; in fact, this newly re-built relationship with him felt much stronger than ever before.

The flashback ended when the wedding planner knocked on the door indicating it was time for the ceremony to begin. You, Isabel, and the other bridesmaids ushered Suki to her designated spot, making sure her dress, hair, make up and flowers looked perfect.

Standing at the altar by Furlan’s side as his best man, Levi was relieved that he would finally be seeing you soon after being apart all morning. Lately, the two of you spent most of your time together; and this sudden separation had him feeling restless.

On cue, the two harpists seated on either side of the rows began to play heavenly tune of ‘A Thousand Years’ by Christina Perry, a prompt for the bride’s party to start making their way towards the altar. He watched patiently as bridesmaids accompanied by groomsmen walked down the aisle, waiting for you to finally appear. He almost forgot to breathe when your form eventually entered the nave, walking a short distance behind Isabel and one of Furlan’s friends.

You wore the emerald gown from your encounter with him at the store four months ago, and looked a million times more beautiful this morning. Your usually open hair was tied into an elegant loose braid with some curly strands framing your face. The sun rays falling on your silhouette from the towering stained-glass windows of the church made you look like an angel descending solely upon him. He finally began breathing again when you smiled at him and mouthed “breathe”, after taking your position at the altar.

Levi only peeled his eyes away from you when Luna’s giggles reverberated off the stone walls as she waddled down the aisle, scattering petals of baby pink roses, about the same shade has her chubby cheeks, on the ivory carpet. You wiped a stray tear rolling down your face as you both proudly watched her play the part of a flower girl with utmost perfection. Upon making it to the end, she ran to you and buried her face in your gown, suddenly feeling shy from the cheers and applause she received from the smitten guests.

You instantly scooped her up and held her close, letting her nuzzle into the crook of your neck, cooing sweet words of encouragement into her ears. Levi was so taken by this divine scene before him that he failed to notice the bride's much awaited walk down the aisle; surprised to directly find Suki standing at the altar, facing Furlan with her lips curved into the widest smile before his attention found you and Luna again.

He lost track of how long he was marveling at his two perfect girls for, until he felt an elbow harshly crash into his ribs, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

“Is this revenge for your wedding?”, Furlan frowned.

Levi blankly stared at him, having no clue what he was talking about

“Ring, Levi!”, the fuming groom growled.

Oh, right. He pursed his lips in embarrassment melting under the scrutiny of the baffled guests while he handed over the ring that was in the safety of his blazer’s pocket. His eyes darted towards an alarmed Suki and silently apologized to her. Then his gaze moved back to you, an impish smirk on your face as you stared back at him, knowing exactly what was going on in his mind.

Fuck! Furlan was not going to let this go for a long time.

Luna had lost interest in the festivities midway through the nuptials and had fallen asleep in your arms. After the ceremony, when everyone began to make their way outside the chapel, Levi swiftly moved over to walk beside you and offered to carry the snoozing toddler. You groaned after her weight left your body, stretching your sore shoulders and aching back .

“Stop that. You have no idea how hard it is to control myself from jumping your bones, especially when you look this gorgeous.”, Levi whispered in your ear, snaking an arm around your waist.

You glanced around awkwardly making sure his words did not fall on any prying ears and gave him a quick smack on the shoulder, trying to suppress the heat creeping up your neck.

Time skip – Evening

The wedding reception was underway. You sat at a table sipping lemonade, watching the newlyweds grooving to the beats of music being played by DJ Zeke. Levi swapped his usual glass of Macallan for a cup of ginger lemon tea; His reason being that his throat was sore from carrying out best man duties. But you knew he was just being supportive of your goal to stay off alcohol.

Erwin and Hange sat by the bar, socializing with Furlan’s Boss, Mr. Pyxis while Luna was busy playing duck-duck-goose with some new toddler friends she made at the venue. Levi needed to be physically restrained from ambushing Isabel who he had discovered slow dancing with the same groomsman that walked alongside her at the ceremony. Miche and Nanaba were spotted in a rare public embrace, dancing leisurely to the slow music; and your army of helpers consisting of Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Sasha, Connie, Reiner, Bertholdt and Annie took the lead on setting up tables as yours and Levi’s patisserie and café were the official caterers for the evening.

The choice of DJ Zeke's next track brought a sparkle to your eyes. Your smile spread from ear to ear when ‘Fly me to the Moon' by Frank Sinatra emanated from the speakers. You sang along and began swaying cheerfully in your seat to the melody.

“Remember, Levi? This was the song we had our first dance to at our wedding.” you reminisced; a nostalgic smile spread across your face.

“How can I forget?”, he asked.

His eyes were unfocused, lost in memories of his own. He remembered how ethereal you looked in your white wedding dress. How your diamond jewelry shimmered under the spotlight, how you whispered honeyed words into his ears when he felt exceptionally uncomfortable dancing in public, how warm your hands felt wrapped around his body, how your breath tickled his neck. He’d give anything just to go back and relive that moment.

You gaze was still lost among people enjoying themselves on the dance floor when a stretched-out hand entered your line of vision. Your eyes followed it to land on Levi’s face. A quirk in your eyebrows wordlessly asked him what this action meant.

“Let's dance.”, he said.

“You, Levi Ackerman, are willingly asking me to dance? Did someone spike your tea?” You smirked, earning an eye roll from him.

“Oi, brat! Let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

“May I have this dance with you, my love?”

You accepted and the pair of you headed towards the dance floor. He gently pulled you close to him and firmly held on to your hand. His other hand wrapped firmly around your waist and you rested yours on his shoulder. You both moved to the slow rhythm in perfect harmony, as you drowned in those gorgeous blue-grey eyes. It felt like the world around you had dissolved and it was just the two of you and the music.

“You look nice today. I see you bought the same gray suit you hated with a fiery passion.”, you teased.

“How could I not after you said you liked it?”

You looked over his shoulder to Suki and Furlan flashing you a wide grin from across the dance floor. And so did Hange, Miche and Nanaba from over that the bar. Erwin gently raised his drink in your direction. The heat from the from the sudden metaphorical spot light you stood under was cooled by the kiss Levi planted on your cheek.

“Did I tell you how lucky I feel to have you?”, he whispered into your ear as while brushing strands of hair off your face.

“I could stand to hear it more often.”, You hid your blush by resting your forehead on his shoulder, feeling too shy to keep his gaze.

“It's true. You’re the most beautiful woman is this room tonight, scratch that, you’ll be the most beautiful woman anywhere, any day; and I get the honor of calling you mine.” he cooed, drawing gentle circles on your back with his fingers.

“You’re awfully talkative today!”, you lifted your head again to reveal a contagious coy smile spread across your lips.

“Don’t be stupid. I’ve always been talkative.”,

“Come with me.”, he moved you off his chest and tugged at your hand.

“Where?”, you asked in utter confusion, and a bit of annoyance at the wonderful moment being ruined, just to receive silence in response.

Levi quickly glanced over to find Luna munching on garlic bread sticks with Erwin and Hange, as he guided you away from the venue and towards the lake nearby. The ripples in the water gleamed under the moonlight, resembling liquid silver. Warm yellow light from the lamps on either side of a wooden dock dimly illuminated the path that led to a gorgeous gazebo that stood at the end, its ceiling sprinkled with fairy lights that defined the intricate floral carvings in the wood. You stood in the center of the structure and slowly spun around, marveling at the work of whose ever brilliant hands built it.

“Levi, this is stunning!”, you said gazing in all directions, running your fingers over the sophisticated engravings.

“Yes, it is.”, Levi agreed, his eyes not on the architecture, but instead on the human embodiment of radiant sunny day that stood by his side.

Not remotely expecting anything to outshine the sight before you, your vision was captured by an extravagant display of red, green, and gold against the dark blanket of the night’s sky. You jumped when the sound of the first soaring explosion caught you off guard. An arm slid across your waist and a kiss was placed on your temple. You were enamored by the shattering sparks of the fireworks, eliciting frequent oohs and aahs, until a voice snapped you out of your reverie.

“Marry me.”

It took you a few seconds to fully register what you just heard. But when you did, overwhelming feelings of joy rendered you speechless; fingers absentmindedly running over the carved railing of the gazebo, stunned orbs darting between the brilliant sky and the love of your life.

This time Levi had to remind you to breathe.

Your eyes and lips both turned into wide Os, and you slapped your hands to cover your gaping mouth when he slowly lowered himself to kneel before you, opening a little black box containing the same gorgeous ruby ring from all those years ago, which he sneaked out of your nightstand during one of his visits.

“I know that you said you wanted to take this slow. But the last four months with you have been the most precious of my life, where I got a glimpse of what having a perfect family would be like. I learnt the hard way, what I lost when I lost you and you gave me a second chance at finding happiness when you decided to come back. I promise to love and protect you every single day for the rest of my life, and even after. You complete me, love, and you complete our family. So, will you do me the honor of being Mrs. Ackerman, again?”

“Levi...”, your trembling voice was barely audible.

“Yes.”, you breathed, letting the floodgates finally open when he slid the ring on your finger.

He got back on his feet and engulfed you into the tightest embrace as you wept joyous tears into his shoulders.

“I love you so much!”

“I love you too!”, moving to look into your eyes, he cupped your face with warm hands.

And finally, his lips found yours.

It felt... like home;

Like laying in a cozy bed after a long day of work, like the warm chocolate sauce on a cold scoop of ice-cream, like wearing a fuzzy sweater on a crisp autumn evening, like walking barefoot on the beach at sunset, like taking a cool shower on a blazing summer afternoon, like everything you ever needed.

After being torn apart from the one person who made your life perfect, you were finally back in the soothing confines of his strong arms, resting against his able chest, ready to fall apart; all while the fireworks in the sky mirrored the fireworks in your hearts.

“Mama! Papa!”

You were awoken from this surreal euphoria by the most beautiful squeal you had ever heard. Both your heads turned towards the source of it – a tiny figure running towards you with all her might while all your near and dear ones including the newlyweds watched from a distance, cheering merrily.

“They knew?”, you gasped, sobbing and sniffling from the joyous tears.

“Yeah, pretty much everyone but you knew.”

Luna flew into Levi’s open arms when he bent down to receive her. The three of you merged into one blob of a positively smothering family hug, only pulling away to pepper each other with more kisses. Levi held his two girls close. His sun and moon were now back together in the sky of his life. He looked into Luna’s crescent shaped eyes and whispered,

“Moon beam, Mama’s coming home.”

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman x fem!reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman angst #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman headcanons #domestic levi #dad!levi #aot fic

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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Can u pls write something like dark!reader x steve rogers high school AU , where R is rich spoil brat & she always had a crush on steve but she always bully him by calling him skinny and all and Then yrs later, time changes her family discarded her from will and she becomes poor and need job, got hired for PA by dark ceo!steve rogers who she bullied her all school lifee😈😈

okay this is a lot for a headcanon but I don’t have time to do a whole oneshot BUT I also really like it so we’re gonna just make a longass headcanon here we gooooo

warnings for heavy dub con, choking, slapping, degradation (by steve), bullying (by the reader), abortion mention, brief mention of/implied assault.

“heyo pipsqueak” you called out to get steve’s attention, laughing when he frowned. “looks like you grew a whole inch over summer, be sure to have your mom draw a line in pencil on the doorframe.”

he just rolled his eyes and got back to chatting with his friend. not friends, friend, cause he only had one: bucky, who snarled at you as well.

“pick on someone your own size, if you can find somebody with as big a head as you,” bucky shot back, making you scoff.

“you know, it’s a shame you hang out with this deformed freak, you could’ve been popular. you’ve got the looks for it.”

“I’d rather keep my brains, thanks,” bucky explained as you walked away with your posse of fellow popular kids.

you didn’t used to be so mean to steve. it was sort of a comedy of errors, really. you two had been friends in elementary school-- you, him, and bucky were the rambunctious trio up until middle school.

things change for boys and girls in middle school. guys just get along with each other and don’t think about it much. girls, though... girls need to be sharp. it’s eat or be eaten. and you wanted to eat.

you were lucky that you developed early. it meant that girls respected you and boys feared you-- not just for your attractive features but for the fact that you loomed a foot over most of them.

you started to take advantage of it. and by the time you realized you had feelings for your best friend steve, it was already too late-- he was at the bottom of the food chain and you were at the top.

you told your new girl friends that you wanted to take steve to the sadie hawkins. they laughed at you. for a moment, you felt what it was like to be outcast and you never wanted to feel it again. so, you told steve and bucky that you’d grown apart. and you were happy to just be former friends...

it was steve that started it. he called you out. he told you that you were nothing like who he used to know-- you had become vapid and cold and narcissistic.

“you’re so busy worrying about what other people think, you never take the time to think for yourself.” that was what he said. and it fucking hurt.

“saw you talking to your boyfriend steve the dweeb,” your friend tanya announced at lunch just a few minutes after that conversation. and you were angry, and hurt, and truly friendless despite being surrounded by other popular girls. so you said some things you could never take back.

“steve? as if. did you know he still sleeps with a security blanket? and he has his friend bucky fight for him every week cause if he took a punch he’d crumble to dust?”

and so, mortal enemies were formed. it only got worse in high school, as you fought to secure your title at the top while steve and bucky’s presence filled your heart with guilt and your gut with anger.

if only you’d known how quickly you could fall from your high horse.

it started when you dated tanya’s ex, brock. she was made so she spread a rumor that you would fuck any guy on the football team, even all of them at once.

apparently, a lot of people believed it since tanya had been your sidekick since 6th grade.

two football players believed it. and when you wouldn’t follow through on it, you got yourself a black eye.

that meant you missed school for a week because you couldn’t possibly show up looking like that. tanya told everyone it was because you got grounded and sent away to church camp after your parents caught you in bed with one of the neighbors. so now your reputation was ‘sleeps with football players and old men.’

only brock had been there for you.... but it turned out he had motives of his own. you had originally planned to wait until college, but brock was clearly wanting something in return for putting up with dating pariah #1... so you let him take your virginity.

the condom broke. when you dashed to the trash can to hurl in the middle of history class, you knew something was wrong. (and lost that many more social points in the process.)

brock dumped you the second he found out you were pregnant. didn’t even help you pay for the abortion. he got back together with tanya and told her the real reason for your ‘medical absence’. and that was the last straw for the former homecoming queen.

the humiliation drove you to some.... poor choices, for the next few years. you tried not to think about them now, but it was hard not to when their consequences were staring you right in the face: no money, no job, nearly homeless, and desperate.

over a hundred job applications later, only one had called you back and scheduled an interview. and you only needed one.

so there you were, waiting in the chilly lobby area while the receptionist typed away and chomped her gum, tapping your toes and glancing out the window occasionally.

you were surprised when you had been told your interview would be on the 51st floor. you sort of assumed it would just be some random manager interviewing you, not somebody important enough to have a waiting room like this, or a view like this.

when a man stepped out from the nearby hallway, your eyes went wide. he was tall, and handsome, and obviously muscular underneath the exquisite suit. you suddenly felt underdressed in your hand-me-down business clothes.

then he called your name. and you realized he was going to interview you.

you stood up and nodded. “you can follow me to my office,” he instructed with a smile, leading you down the hall to the corner office. you were in awe of the grandiosity of it all. you were dumbfounded when you saw CEO on the door.

“there must have been a mistake,” you explained as he shut the door behind you. “I... I’m just interviewing for an entry-level position.”

“no, there’s no mistake,” he shook his head, “I have you exactly where I want you. take a seat.”

he circled his desk and sat on the other side of it, resting his elbows on the desk and giving you an oddly smug smile. an awkward silence was finally broken when he realized, “you must not remember me.”

“I... have we met?”

“I don’t blame you, I look pretty different,” he shrugged. “I must’ve grown a whole inch this summer.”

you gave him a confused look before realization dawned on you, along with shame, and fear.

“oh... oh my god, Steve?!” you squawked. he just grinned. “you look... you look...”

“taller?”

sexy.

“you look great!” you said aloud instead.

“yeah,” he agreed, “wish I could say the same for you.”

you swallowed dryly. “so that’s what you want,” you sighed, “to get back at me. I understand. I deserve it...”

“I don’t want revenge,” he denied. “I’m just sorry to see you haven’t been... thriving, since high school. your job history--” he scanned your resume briefly-- “well, you don’t have one. have you been slumming it all this time?”

“without my parents’ money? yeah,” you admitted.

“surprised you applied here, instead of turning tricks on 5th and Columbus.”

your back straightened and your eyes went wide at that comment.

“I mean, you’re already dressed for it,” he smirked.

you stood up and crossed your arms. “if you’re just going to insult me, then I’ll leave now. I’m sorry for everything I did to you, steve,” you announced, voice shaky with oncoming tears.

“can you really afford to leave?” he pressed. “if you have a chance at a job?”

that, unfortunately, got your attention. “you... you might actually offer me something?”

“I will offer you something,” he corrected, “if you just sit down and listen.”

you relented, returning to your seat. you could stand a lot more insults if there was money on the line.

“to be honest, there’s no way I can hire you for the position you applied for,” he sighed. “you’re just underqualified. but I think I can create a position for you.”

you liked the sound of that. “what kind of position?”

“well, that’s tricky, seeing as you don’t have any skills,” he frowned, “except one. so that’s the one I plan on using.”

the look in his eyes made it all too clear what he was referring to, but as you shrunk into the leather chair he went ahead and clarified.

“I’ll pay you whatever salary you saw in the ad. but you won’t be doing data analysis or office management or anything like that. all you’ll be doing is spreading your legs for me whenever I fucking want.”

fear shot up your spine; his eyes were devouring you, pinning you to the chair, and you tried to process that. “I--”

“before you say anything,” he interrupted immediately, “let’s just be perfectly clear that this might be your only shot at a real job. what I’m offering has better pay than stripping, and better benefits than hooking. and unless you have any education or experience I don’t know about, you’re totally fucked.”

“seems like I’m fucked either way,” you mumbled, making him laugh.

“see, you’ve still got that sharp tongue,” he grinned. “can’t wait to put it to better use.”

maybe it was just desperation for cash. maybe it was because he was good-looking and you could do a lot worse. maybe it was because, on some level, you felt like you deserved his punishment after how horribly you’d treated him.

“I’ll do it,” you sighed. “when do I start?”

he stood up and reached across the desk to grab your neck, glaring at you. “right now.”

his free hand was already fumbling with his belt, the one on your throat guiding you downwards. “on your knees,” he instructed, and you slipped out of the chair and onto the floor.

he let go of your neck and you figured he was going to come to you, but instead he stood still and demanded: “crawl.”

debasing as it was, you crawled on your knees to his side of the desk, and he laughed at you bitterly. when you reached his feet and popped back up, you gasped at the sight of his hard cock right in front of your face. it was bigger than your face. and it was dripping precum.

“don’t get so bug-eyed, you can handle it,” he grinned. “if your mouth’s as big as I remember...”

you didn’t want to hear any more. you just wanted to get this over with, so you quickly took his head between your lips and started to suck. you were shocked when he slapped you, hard enough to knock his length from your mouth and to make you reach up and clutch your stinging cheek.

“fucking whore,” he grimaced, “did I say you could put it in your mouth? god, you’re so fucking desperate. just open your fucking mouth and I’ll show you what I want, okay?”

you nodded and stammered an apology, looking up at him with watery eyes and an open mouth. he swiped the latest drop of precum on your tongue before gliding his cock over it, grabbing your hair to keep you steady as he pushed himself to the back of your throat.

“fuck, that’s better,” he sighed. “so much better when you just do what you’re told. I remember how you used to be so cruel with this mouth. now you’re being so welcoming...”

you just sat there and let him use your mouth, trying not to gag when he hit your throat.

“look up at me,” he instructed, “yeah, that’s it. can’t have you forgetting who’s doing this to you, now can we?”

that went on for a bit longer until mascara-stained tears streaked your face, which he seemed rather proud of.

“damn, wouldn’t mind having you swallow my come right now,” he admitted, “but I have bigger plans. get up, bend over my desk.”

you coughed briefly when he pulled out, but did as you were told. he instantly yanked your skirt up over your ass and spanked you several times roughly, making you sob and whine.

“wanna see this ass all bruised up in the shape of my hand,” he explained. “so we can both remember how hard I fucked you.”

he tore your panties like they were paper, chuckling when he found you already wet.

“dripping already, just from choking on my cock? poor baby...”

you spread your legs slightly, though you were sure nothing was going to adequately prepare you for his size.

“you figured out how to use birth control since graduating, right?” he asked, and you nodded quickly. “good. cause I’m not using a condom,” he continued as he let his cock glide over your folds, groaning slightly, “and there’s no way in hell I’m pulling out.”

he pushed forward in one brutal stroke, making you cry out loudly. you really hoped these rooms were mostly soundproof.

“shit, you’re tight,” he hissed, already pulling back and thrusting back in. “clearly you recovered from your years of slutting it up in high school.”

“that-- that wasn’t true,” you defended.

“oh, just shut up,” he growled.

he fucked you fast and deep, his hips pushing yours into the edge of his desk with each thrust. his hands pinned you down at your shoulders, another reminder that you were entirely at his mercy.

“fuck, this is just what you needed... somebody to put you in your place. makes sense that it should be me, since you hated me so much.”

“I didn’t h-hate you,” you hiccuped.

“yeah, you wanted me, didn’t you?”

“always,” you admitted.

“wanted my fat fuckin’ cock to tear up your pussy? is that it?”

“yes,” you moaned, “yes, steve, wanted to be yours.”

“even when I was skinny and short?”

“even when you hated me,” you added.

he growled slightly and you felt your walls tighten around him suddenly. he chuckled, clearly aware that you were enjoying this.

“you want more, baby? want me to fuck you harder?”

“whatever you want,” you answered instead. “just use me however you want.”

he moaned and leaned down to cage your body in with his. “fuck, baby... you’re taking this better than I thought you would. such a good girl for me, huh? such a good little slut. want me to use you, baby? take all my anger out on you?”

“yes,” you whispered, sobbing when he began to fuck you more brutally than you thought possible. but it felt good. so good that your legs were shaking, so good that you felt even better when he tugged your hair.

“yeah, gonna come on my cock, aren’t you?”

you nodded and bit your lip.

“m’ close too,” he admitted, “you’re gonna be so full of my come, it’s gonna be dripping down your legs when you walk out of here...”

your orgasm made your body shake and your eyes roll back.

“fuck, I can feel you coming,” he groaned, “fuck, just like that-- fuck!”

you felt his warmth fill you as his cock flexed against your walls. you were busy trying to catch your breath when he slumped down on top of you and pushed the air from your lungs.

“damn... didn’t think I was gonna come that fast,” he sighed. “see what you do to me? fuck, I knew this was a good idea.”

sure, it felt good, but you were sure he was only going to get rougher and meaner the longer this went on. you couldn’t imagine how you were going to get out of here without somebody noticing your wrinkled clothes, messed-up hair and, as he’d pointed out himself, come all over your thighs.

“guess I’ll see you at 8am tomorrow, huh?” he chuckled, giving you an unexpected peck on the cheek. you couldn’t answer, though, interrupted by the phone on his desk ringing. “oh, sorry, gotta get this.”

he reached for the phone and picked it up, bringing to his ear all without pulling out of you or even lifting his body from on top of yours.

“bucky, hey,” steve grinned as he spoke into the phone, looking down at you and stroking your hair, “you’re not gonna believe who I ran into today...”

#dark!steve rogers x reader #ceo!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers hc #dark!steve rogers smut #Anonymous

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ryozoro · 4 years ago

Text

Hades Playlist - ii.

NOW PLAYING: Vampire [Dominic Fike]

cw; nothing really, very small mentions of manipulation and murder

an: SORRY FOR THE LATE UPLOAD , THINGS GOT BEHIND SCHEDULE :(

“The curious are always in some danger. If you are curious, you might never come home.” – Jennette Winterson

She couldn’t get him off her mind; ever since she met him, all her thoughts have led back to the droopy eyes and the slick back hair that seemed a lot softer than what the gel presented it as. The whole idea of her thoughts tracing back to the eldest of the Haitani’s and her heart beats mimicking each time the octave of his voice dropped with every word he spoke to her, made yn almost forget all the rules her big brother placed when it comes to men.

Why does she yearn to be in the presence of someone who would not hesitate to take her life for a laugh amongst his gang? Why does she want to run into the back allies of each street in hopes of accidentally bumping into him? Why isn’t she able to use common sense and erase the memory of him out of her head? Why does she feel like fate has strung their paths together on purpose? Why – you know what? Maybe she latched onto Ran so fast in hopes of forgetting someone else that continued to plague her mind daily. Maybe she is becoming obsessed with idea of someone not seeing her as a kid. That has to be it, right? Ran, ‘Tani-Senpai,’ shares the same interest and even wants to talk to her later as if they have been old friends. That has to be it —

“Yn!” her brother’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “Are you okay, ya idiot?” She took note that everyone at the table was staring at her, waiting for her to answer Draken’s question. “You’ve been spacing out since we got here,” Draken frowned as he plucked a piece of food from her plate, “are you sure that nothing happened on your bike ride to the shop?”

“If you were riding to the shop, I would have gladly picked you up,” Inupi chimed in with a soft smile. “I told you to treat me like I’m another older brother.”

“Hm,” yn hummed while avoiding eye contact with the blonde man, “wanted to surprise my troll of a brother and I figured you were off because its Tuesday.”

“Ah,” Inupi gently laughed as he watched her play with her food, “you remembered my schedule?”

Of course, she remembered his schedule. Yn knew almost everything about him; from the origins of his beautiful burn mark to his favorite snack in the vending machine back at the shop, yn knew and fell in love with it all. Draken always teased her about being in love with Mikey or Hakkai since she always seemed relaxed around them, but little did he know that his little sister was in love with his best friend and business partner.

“I’m honestly shocked that you kept it the way you did,” yn side-eyed him as she raised the other hand to pick at the bandages that wrapped along the underside of her jaw, “but at the same time, I’m not that shocked considering old people love to stick to their schedules. Wouldn’t want you straining your back, Oji-chan.”

Inupi laughed – God, she loved that laugh - whole heartedly to the point he began choking on his food. Of course, sitting with their friends and family, Inupi’s contagious laugh spread amongst the others and the people around them either ignored it very well or gave them silent glares in hopes they would stop; surprise, they did not. Hell, if anything, it got worse – so much worse – to the point that Mikey, Takemichi, and Chifuyu all fell out of their chairs.

“I – what did I say that was so funny?” yn pouted as she fished her phone out of her pocket, “I just called him the old man he was.”

“That’s why, brat,” draken flicked her forehead and chuckled, “we had made a few bets on what you would say when Inupi had talked to you. Surprisingly, Mitsuya guessed you would have called him a grandpa.” Draken and the others proceeded to give Mana’s big brother 200 yen as they got up off the floor and calmed down.

“So, Yn,” Takemichi looked her in the eyes with a dopey flushed face.

“Watch it ‘ Mitchy,” Kazutora playfully warned, “don’t wanna embarrass the poor girl since she just got back.”

“What is it, crybaby,” she asked hesitantly as she scanned over his face, noting signs of mischief lurking in the corners of his smile. “It better not be something stupid, or else I’m telling Hina-san about what you did last time you came over to the shop.”

“Oi, you’re so mean – just like your brother,” Takemichi pouts and fans his hands towards you, “but it’s just a simple question, neh.”

Yn enjoyed Takemichi’s presence more than someone from an outside point of view would have thought. He always served as a hero in her eyes as he saved Mikey from the dark path he began to walk and how he constantly reminded her brother on how much his deceased lover, Sano Emma, watches over him and guides him to all the good things that happens in his life. He was an amazing guy and one that she wished had set her expectations for her taste in men, but her heart yearns for those who are completely out of her grasp.

“Just ask or else I’m calling Hina-san,” yn smirked as she brought her phone screen into view for Takemichi to see that “Hina-san <3” contact was pulled up and only one press away from being dialed.

“Oh, you bully!” Takemichi sighed dramatically, “I was just going to ask how long you have been into gilfs?” Draken choked on his drink and Pah-chin was patting his back in hopes of easing the rough coughs. Everyone at the table began to cause even more ruckus with tears of laughter as yn sat there dumbfounded.

“w-what,” she scratched her head and looked around the table in hopes of someone taking note of her clear ignorance at the word that Takemichi had claimed her to be attracted to. Since no one answered, she decided to speak on her own, “what the hell is a gilf?” Much to yn’s dismay, the table went silent for a brief second before bursting out into an even louder fit of laughter. “Well?! What the hell is it?”

“Yn, love,” Smiley spoke between hiccups and giggles, “it’s the same thing as a Dilf or Milf, but for old people.” After he finally finished his sentence, he leaned against his twin and laughed even harder.

“I-,” yn stood up and threw her dirtied napkin and spoon at the man who made the joke, “I’m not attracted to gilfs you fuckin idiot.” Yn moved behind Takemichi and put him in a headlock, “what made you even think to say that ya CD sellin’ pervert.”

“Oi,” Draken said from above her, “let ‘Mitchy go or else I’m taking you back all the way to Fukurodani and asking them to volunteer you for the summer school tutoring.” Yn dropped her arms in defeat and made her way back to her seat. “And you,” Takemichi looked up at her brother with a teary-eyed smile, “go clean your hair up before your wedding. It’s in three days and anyone can tell you pick at your split ends during your down time at work.” Draken laughed as Takemichi’s expression turned into a pout and he began punching Draken’s solid abdomen.

“Oh,” Angry stood up abruptly, “yn, could I see ya outside really quick?” Despite his rough tone, everyone knew he was asking in the kindest way possible.

“Yeah, sure,” yn got up with a pout and made her way to the exit with Angry trailing her with a hand on her mid-back. She was confused as to why they went outside at such a fast pace, but she just assumed that Angry wanted peace and quiet away from the others. “So,” yn smiled at the younger twin, “what did you – why is your face angrier than usual?” She titled her head at the man but he was quick to grab her hand and guide her towards his bike.

“Hop on,” he straddled the seat and waited for her to do the same, “don’t worry, Draken texted me to take you back to me and Nahoya-nii’s shop. So… hurry up, please.” Souta stopped her right before she got on and placed a helmet on her head, “safety first because I’ll hurt you if you get hurt,” he said as he proceeded to adjust the straps enough to keep her safe and comfortable. “Get on, Princess,” he kicked up the kick stand and took off fast out the parking spot.

“So – uh,” yn spoke aloud as they arrived at a stop light, “why did nii-chan tell ya to take me to the shop… I wasn’t done eating.” She felt her stomach rumble and she pressed her cheek to Angry’s leather cladded shoulder blade and readjusted her grip on his waist as they began moving towards the backroads to get to the Kawata’s Ramen shop.

“I’ll make you a bowl when we get there,” he relaxed his upper body so yn wasn’t laying against hard muscles, “and we left because everyone kept staring at you.”

“Psh,” yn rolled her eyes, “they were staring because I am a strong, independent woman who managed to put a MAN in a headlock like a bad bi-.”

“Enough of your ‘bad bitch’ talk, I believe you, but I promise you that was not the reason.” Angry spoke through a breathy laugh, “the cook and the table in the corner was kept looking over you. Don’t you think it was weird how when they brought our orders out and Draken said your rice was missing an egg and the cook came out and apologized himself?”

Yn pondered on the question for a bit but then shook her head gently and nuzzled inbetween the center of Angrys’s back, “no, to be honest, I thought that the cook just hates when he messes up. It can’t be that deep, yanno? Oh! Maybe they mistook me as an idol?” She felts Angry’s laugh bubble from his chest to his shoulder blades; Souta’s laugh honestly made her feel like her jokes were genuinely funny to listen to.

“Hate to break it to you,” Angry brought the bike to a gentle stop as the arrived towards the ramen shop, “but you don’t present yourself as the ideal image of the idol you probably think you are.” Yn joined Souta in the small fits of laughter as she gently punched him in his side.

“Oh, shut up,” she let out a soft breath as she hopped off and carried the helmet with her as she made her way to the employee back door. “Open up, yeah? ‘M reeeeeally hungry.”

“Already ahead of you, ya dumb brat,” Angry bumped his hip gently against yn’s and unlocked the door and pushed her inside. They placed their helmets and jackets off in the staff room and made their way towards the kitchen where she sat at bar stools and Angry started up the stove to boil a few eggs and moved to chop up some green onions. “You want beef or chicken, idiot?”

“Sheesh, souta-kun, if ya wanted to marry me – just say that,” Yn teased as she propped her head onto her two hands, “your terms of endearment have been getting sweeter and sweeter by the minute~ but! I do want chicken please, been not feelin like eating cow and pigs lately.”

“Yer annoying,” angry threw a small, chopped onion at her, “in your dreams I’d marry you. Plus, I KNOW I’m not your type. You go for mechanics with burn marked boys that work with your brother -,”

“OKAY, NOT NEEDED,” Yn pressed her face to the counter, “asshole… He’s my type, but I’m not his. He’s like, Makima and I’m Denji… please tell me you understand that because it’s the best I got.”

“I understand it, and I just want to say that that is the most tragic thing I have heard from you in a while – oh, but back to the restaurant,” Angry said as he slid a small chocolate mochi from out the freezer and towards yn on a cute, small plate, “there was a customer who went into the back the second he heard that your order was wrong. I thought it was weird because what cook comes out that frightened when they get someone’s order wrong, but then your brother texted me saying that every man there had their eyes on you as if they were in charge of watching your every move. At first, Hakkai noticed some of the men sporting a ‘Bonten’ tattoo on their wrist, so we thought maybe they were after Mikey, but then Mitsuya texted us when he went to the bathroom that he heard some of the guys saying your name. Once that was said, Draken immediately told me to take you away from there… I do have a question for you though.” Angry began whipping up the ramen in the most tasteful way and side-eyeing the young ryuguji, “did you by chance get into it with a few Bonten member’s when you first got here? Is that why you’re all bandaged up?”

“Souta,” yn felt her heartbeat pick up but remained composed, “nothing happened with what ever ‘Bonten’ members… you know how weird some gangs are…”

“I trust you, brat,” Angry’s frown deepened once he noticed that the eggs were ready to be cut and the chicken was ready to be fried, “I just don’t want to lose another family member, okay? We babies have to stick together.” With that, he paid no mind to the situation, making a small mental note to tell Draken that one of the members there probably just thought yn was pretty. “Oh,” Souta looked back at yn, “one more thing.”

“Y-yeah, of course,” yn snapped her eyes to meet his gaze, nervous that he might have picked up on the fact that she lied about not coming into contact with any members when she first arrived, “what’s up stinky?”

“Just be careful,” Angry passed her a water bottle, “don’t trust anyone who isn’t in our toman family; especially not a Bonten member. He’ll take you in, manipulate you into believing you can’t live without him, and sell you off with no cares in the world. That is, if you’re lucky enough not to be killed in the middle of the street for entertainment.” Souta turned back around to finish up the ramen.

“Yeah,” yn felt a chill go down her back, “I’ll be careful… I promise.” She honestly didn’t know how to feel, after all, she just met with the man who presented her with an unrequited love, another man who made her heart yearn to lurk into the depths of the shadows, and someone whom she considered family just told her that one of those men would lead her onto a road of misfortune. Lost in her thoughts, she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. She pulled on it and felt her stomach drop as she was greeted with two notifications.

Draken bacon >:D : You okay kid? We’re heading to the restaurant right now, ‘m sure nothing was wrong – just wanted ya to be safe. me and inupi there in a bit, the other boys are getting stuff together for our dinner tonight. don’t annoy angry too much <3

Tani-senpai <3: why did you leave so soon pretty girl? Didn’t mean to alarm you, but I sent your picture to quite a few of my juniors and underlings, delinquents if you will – just wanted them to know not to touch what isn’t theirs. N e Wayz, I have time now, do you want to call now?

Were the gods telling her to remember her caring brother’s rules on men or to listen to faint voice of curiosity that lingered in her young and ignorant mind?

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ryozoro©

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