#it's so unfair when she wear jeans like i do want to FAINT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gyusbambi · 4 years ago

Text

humph; han seojun (pt 3)

click here for humph masterlist!

part 1, part 2, part 4

story: frenemies to enemies to lovers, high school au

synopsis: seojun and you have known each other since kindergarten. you’re neighbors and even attended the same singing and piano classes. despite knowing each other for such a long time, you don’t enjoy spending time with seojun. even though you are aware of his unfairness, you keep spending time with him. when will you finally leave your childhood frenemy?

note: humph! is a story inspired by pentagon’s “humph! / 접근금지”. originally, this is a seungyeon fanfiction, which i posted on my wattpad. words: 4.3k

after what seems like forever, the bus finally arrives at the location. the rest of the bus ride went alright, except that suho kept turning around in his seat, checking if you’re doing well. because of that you simply decided to text him that everything was fine: seojun wasn’t even talking to you. on the contrary, he acted quieter than usual, looking out of the window the whole time.

speaking of: how lucky seojun felt that you didn’t seem to notice the truth behind his behavior. after all he’s a person incredibly difficult to read. one moment he’s mean only to remain silent in the other. even his friend with keen sense of perception, chorong, struggles to detect the real meaning of the boy’s actions. however, he’s definitely not about to give up, after all he spent the whole night planing the ultimate reconciliation.

han seojun himself, has no clue how to act. yet, one matter is clear: he wants to make up with you. the whole time he suppressed that he misses being near you, constantly trying to fight back the thought of wanting you. well aware that it’s easier said than done, he thinks of a way to overcome his stubbornness. in the first step, he needs to distance himself a little, though the concept of that seems more difficult than it sounds.

after everyone gets settled into their hotel rooms, it’s game time. outdoors you stand next to your roommates sua and soojin, as your teacher explains the simple rules for the tug of war game. your teacher’s suggestion of separating the teams classwise gets absolutely rejected by chorong, who claims that the game wouldn’t be exciting that way. therefore, your teacher hands the rope to chorong himself, stating that he should choose his opponent and divide into two groups.

at the sight of your friend grinning from ear to ear, you narrow your eyes in suspicion. is it that big of a deal from him?

but you’re even more surprised when he chooses his closest friend han seojun as his opponent to which the latter doesn’t react well.

“woah, you betrayer.” seojun tilts his head with a frown on his face before brushing his hair away from his forehead,

“game on.”

“okay, i’m the first one to choose and i choose y/n!” enthusiastically chorong pulls you to his side a little too fast, causing you to bump shoulders with him.

something seems off today.

two equal groups finally get created, a line separating them from each other. kim chorong and han seojun face each other, positioning themselves in the very front. purposely, you stand near the back, gripping the rope tightly with your hands since you don’t feel that strong.

right when the game is about to start, chorong suddenly groans in pain while holding his stomach,

“i don’t feel so good. someone else should take my position.”

“oh, well then suho should-”, you raise your hand to suggest who should replace chorong but you get interrupted by chorong immediately,

“y/n, thank you so much for volunteering. my strongest player!”

everyone watches you with confused eyes, probably thinking the same thing that’s running through your head. strongest player?

overwhelmed, your helpless eyes search for suho’s and it doesn’t take him long to react,

“if you’re not comfortable i could-”

“y/n, come on! what’s taking you so long?” sua gently grabs your shoulders from behind to push you to the front while laughing nervously.

as stupid as it sounds, once again you’re not able to hear her whispering something certain to your group members, while you are too busy observing the boy on the other side of the drawn line.

the whole team is lead to confusion when your friend tells them to let the rope go on the count of three.

on the sign of your teacher, the two groups start pulling the rope to their direction, trying to get the other members to their side. certainly, it’s difficult and requires a lot of strength. while tugging the rope with force, you look up to see han seojun doing the same thing, completely focused on the game.

“three.”

his veins are visible on his arms.

“two.”

his hair slightly covers a part of his forehead.

“one!”

all of the sudden everyone in your team, except for you, lets go off the rope, causing you to lose balance and stumble forwards.

some of the opponents fall down while the others are able to find balance in the last second.

letting out a small yelp, you find yourself falling into han seojun’s arms. however, when you grab onto his shoulders to prevent yourself from falling, he quickly reacher for your waist. before he knows it, both of you fall on the ground.

han seojun lays beneath you.

eyes tightly closed, your head hits his chest. with embarrassment you look up, to find him doing the same. the boy looks more than just shocked. his grip is still steady on your waist, hair messy, gaze on you.

are you starting to find him attractive?! (a/n: good morning, y/n)

and as you eventually notice the rosiness on his almost pale face, you cough more than just once.

“you just fell for me.”

it seems like it’s the last straw for you, when these words leave han seojun’s mouth with teasing tone.

now your stupid heart rate is speeding up again and you are sure that it’s able to explode any moment. not to mention, the boy beneath you can possibly hear it due to the extreme closeness.

therefore, you’re happy to come to your senses and stand up swiftly. after seconds han seojun does the same, watching you brush the dirt off your jeans.

he smiles at the sight of you and for once decides to ignore kim chorong grining like a cheshire's cat.

mission complete.

in the next game you have to build groups with four members and stand on a piece of newspaper. the group loses the moment one of their members step out of the paper.

lee suho instantly tugs at your sweater, asking if you want to be in a group with him. a smile forms on your lips and you nod to his request with joy. sooner than think, soojin approaches the both of you, questioning if she could join you. chuckling you playfully hit her shoulder to show that obviously she could,

“of course! now we only need one more person. how about sua?”

“i think sua wants to stick to her boyfriend.” soojin giggles while observing the couple clutching to each other.

as all three of you look around for a last person to join you, kim chorong pushes han seojun to your direction forcefully, causing his back to hit your own. with a look of puzzlement you turn around.

“sorry, seojun! we’re already four people. you gotta join their group.”,

kim chorong whines in a false upset tone before focusing back to his own group. once again, you fail to notice the grin on his face.

before it can get awkward between the four of you, you indicate them to step on the piece of paper. you wish you could overlook suho and seojun exchanging annoyed looks. it seems like both of them could start a fight any moment. thankfully soojin steps forward, standing between you and suho.

soon the host starts the game. everyone holds each other closely, your own arm around seojun’s back. you don’t fail to notice a smile appearing on soojin’s face when suho wraps an arm around her, holding her tightly. amused, you try to hold in your laughter but soon freeze on spot when seojun swiftly pulls you closer to his body before you can lose your balance and fall backwards. your own grip on his jacket tightens. both of you look at each other at the same time, taken aback by the sudden closeness. seojun coughs, a faint tint appearing on his ears, and looks away a little too quickly. meanwhile suho looks like he’s about to explode.

in the next round you intentionally squeeze yourself between the two boys, so that they don’t have the chance to throw fists at each other.

“why does suho ruin my plan!”

further away from you, chorong complains to sua and taehoon. the latter sighs with disappointment while shaking his head,

“i don’t know.”

“it’s almost like he likes y/n.” chorong scoffs sarcastially, eyes focused on lee suho.

but soon shock hits all three of them. chorong and taehoon avert their gazes from suho to look into each other’s eyes in horror,

“oh, no.”

the last day at the countryside is colder than usual and remains extremely silent, only sounds of crickets can be heard. that being so you choose to stay in the hotel room, watching tv dressed in jeans and a cozy hoodie. fully prepared for bed, you even removed your contact lenses and wear you specs, hair up in a messy ponytail.

however, the unexpected sight of your two roommates dressed up in their winter coats and combat boots causes you to sit up with surprise written in your face. both sua and soojin do the same when they spot you sitting on the couch lazily. after a short silence with the sound of the tv playing in the background, you finally break the awkward quietness,

“are you two going somewhere?”

“why are you still in those?”

instead of answering your question, sua looks you up and down with a confused expression. reacting to her statement, you push your glasses up your nose, eyes unable to meet hers,

“i thought we were staying in.”

“of course not! we should have fun on our last night.”, soojin chuckles while sitting down next to you, taking your hand in hers.

after nodding understandingly, you return soojin’s smile,

“that’s right. have fun, guys! i think i should stay in.”

before your friend sitting next to has the chance to reply to your decision, sua throws your jacket on your face softly,

“no way! you’re coming with us, y/n.”

removing the piece of clothing from your face, you’re met with sua staring at you with troubled eyes. resigned, you sigh before putting on your jacket which causes both of your friends to cheer. yet, this time you notice sua’s body losing its stiff posture while letting out a huge breath.

meanwhile han seojun walks outside with his hands in his pockets, feeling the cold air on his face. a shiver goes down his spine as he passes several students, who seem to enjoy the last night outside at this terrible weather. in fact, the young boy would rather stay in his hotel room if it wasn’t for his stubborn friends, who basically force him to attend the talent show. although, he thinks their several excuses are nothing but ridiculous (”it’s the last night”, “you should sing”, “sneak around in the woods” etc.) he still leaves his room at the mention of you. kim chorong never misses the chance of bringing you up in tangled situations, well aware of seojun’s reaction.

the moment they arrive at the talent show, which takes place near the forest, han seojun instantly spots you a few steps away from his friend group. completely uninterested you stand next to your friends, impatiently tugging at sua’s coat. at this sight of you, dull eyes visible under your specs, a few loose strands of hair falling down from your ponytail, he can’t help but smile at your disinterest. a few seconds ago he was feeling the same way but this changed thanks to your appearance.

minutes pass as everyone waits for the host to appear on the stage. students already found their seats on the floor, absorbed in their own conversations. somehow, chorong finds a way to sit close to you with the help of sua. the boy sits between you and han seojun with relief. moreover, he focuses on being as far away from lee suho as possible. fulfilling his plan, soojin luckily approached suho first, causing the cupid team to achieve their goal.

finally the host makes an appearance on the stage and lists the number of performances before the first group comes into view. seven girls from your grade, dressed in the same shirts and skirts, start dancing to a girl group song. at the sound of nonstop by oh my girl your disinterest disappears suddenly, replaced with excitement instead. to be honest, you really enjoyed this song, although it isn’t really your type.

while the girls are performing, chorong nudges seojun’s side with his elbow next to him, who seems rather bored.

“did you know this song is about someone who crushes on their best friend but is unable to confess?”

chorong’s sudden statement catches seojun’s attention and he turns his head to his friend next to him with a confused face,

“so what?”

“ah, i’m just saying.”, his friend shrugs with a playful pout before focusing back on the performing group.

what’s wrong with him?

before seojun can further question chorong’s odd behavior, his eyes unintentionally land on yours.

“saljjak seollesso nan!” (my heart fluttered a little)

viewing you bopping your head to the song happily causes seojun’s expressions to soften and without knowing his eyes linger on you with admiration.

the talent show ends after the last performance. unfortunately the air is even colder now causing many students to rush back to the hotel with almost freezing bodies. unquestionably, you start walking the same way as them, expecting your friends to follow you only to get pulled back.

sua loosens her grip on your jacket when you turn around to face her,

“how about we sneak around the forest, huh? what do you say?”

“forest?”

“apparently it’s haunted. isn’t that crazy?”,

she noticeably grins at you with excitement.

“yeah, that’s crazy.”, uneasily you mumble since you have bad memories with forests.

“come on, y/n! you love adventure.”

eventually you give in and follow sua and taehoon into the woods, still concerned about your decision.

seojun doesn’t seem surprised when his friends appear in front of him as he’s about to return to the hotel.

“let’s go ghost haunting!”

“ghost haunting?” he repeats chorong’s words with a questioning voice,

“forget it. i’m going to sleep.”

“why? are you scared?”

at the teasing tone seojun rapidly reacts,

“scared? me? what do you take me for!”

without having to try harder, the friend group follows seojun into the forest.

by some way the woods correspond exactly to your memories from your middle school time. you observe dark tree trunks around you as the moon shines through a lattice of leaves. with every step the undergrowth cracks and you hear the sound of wind slipping through the leaves. breathing in the cold air, you smell the scent of rich earth.

it’s almost like you’re experiencing that certain traumatic moment once again but luckily you aren’t alone.

to the sound of a flutter of wings, sua nervously clutches on taehoon’s coat while holding your wrist in the other hand. abruptly, her boyfriend stops in his track with wide eyes, causing both of you two stumble forward.

“w-what?”

“did you guys see that?” taehoon speaks without averting his gaze from the trees standing a little further away.

sua gulps, “see what? is there something?”

her voice has gotten quieter and more nervous as she follows her boyfriend’s gaze,

“this was supposed to be a mission and now we’re going to die.”

“what mission are you talking about?”

hearing your question, taehoon rapidly turns around to face you.

“nothing.”, he nudges sua with warning eyes before stepping forward,

“it’s probably nothing. do you guys really believe in ghosts?”

although he sounds quite confident, his steps are still cautious and the nervousness on his face is impossible to overlook. with each step, all of you feel your hearts pounding against your chests.

“kim chorong, where the hell are you?” sua mumbles under her breath impatiently, yet so quietly that you can’t understand a single word.

your skin shivers from the cold air and you feel your muscles tightening. trying not to shake, you grip on your friends clothing, waiting for taehoon to check what’s behind that mysterious tree.

and for one second all three of you stand still in complete silence when suddenly a tall dark creature stands not so far away from you. all of you scream in fear at the same time and before you know it you all sprint off to the opposite direction.

your legs move in extreme speed as your heart races in your rib cage. sua and taehoon are in front of you, running even faster with every second passing. frightened, your friend checks behind her and sighs in relief when she sees that you’re still with them.

from there, you run without thinking about stopping. after what seems like minutes your legs give in after you suddenly trip over a bumpy root. a small gasp escapes your mouth the moment you fall down on the slippery earth, wet and dewy leaves sticking on your palms.

without wanting to waste any time, you swiftly look up in hope to see your friends but unfortunately you’re only met with clumps of bushes, tall trees and barely visible black trails snaking through the undergrowth.

standing up, you brush the dirt off your hands and knees. hopelessly, you look around one more time to find someone but unluckily, you’re all alone in the haunted woods. the fact that it’s utterly dark makes everything worse and you try your best to suppress some terrifying memories.

although you’re shocked and frightened, you try your best to remain calm. it’s only a matter of time until you eventually find a way out of this stupid forest and return to your hotel. what could possibly happen to you? the woods are probably safe anyway, considering that the whole story about the ghosts is only a legend.

taking a deep breath, you look up to see stars in glimpses through tree breaks. it isn’t completely dark. seojun would always tell you to look at the moon and the stars when you’re afraid of the dark.

it seems like the track is endless as you walk further into the woods, fog covering your sight slightly. with your arms wrapped around yourself to keep your body warm you continue following the path. the further you go, the more you start to worry about where to go. there is nowhere to go. indeed, you are lost in the middle of the dark woods with nothing but yourself.

a look of concern crosses your face when your knees feel weak, causing you to stop in your tracks. carefully, you approach a random tree next to you and sit down completely exhausted. slowly, you were struggling to breathe normally. nothing but your heavy breathing and the sound of branches moving in the wind could be heard.

fidgeting with your fingers, red from the intense coldness, you try to come up with a way. yet, your head is only filled with memories from the time you were lost in the forest.

you remember every single detail from that night. how you left seojun stubbornly, your body shivering from the cold, dark shadows surrounding you, leaves crunching under your feet and tears streaming down your eyes.

these horrible memories cause you to feel uneasier than you already are and you feel your eyes tearing up.

you’re scared. nothing but fear takes over your shaking body. in this huge forest you are lost and completely alone. wrapping your arms around your knees, you cry quietly, heart beating faster than it should. time passes and you lose track of time while tears run down your cheeks.

out of the blue, a voice echoes through the forest with a worried tone to it. from all the panic and fear, you don’t bother looking up. soon the familiar sounds are easier to hear, pointing out that the person is near to you.

“yah, kim chorong! where are you guys?”

han seojun?

“if you guys don’t come out now i’m leaving without-”

when you’re sure that it’s han seojun’s voice, you look up to find him standing only a few inches away from where you’re sitting.

“y/n?”

han seojun’s shocked eyes find yours in a matter of seconds. the young boy stands there in his leather jacket with worry written all over his face. it hurts him so much to see you in this state and all he wants to do is to hug you.

it doesn’t take him long to squat down in front of you. carefully, he caresses your almost freezing face with his warm hands after brushing your hair out of your face. sadness crosses over his face when he wipes the tears off your cheeks. seojun’s heart aches when you look into his eyes with a mix of fear and relief, teary from crying the whole time.

“are you hurt? what happened to you?”,

he asks with a low tone, eyes never leaving yours.

at this, you squinch your eyes shut, only crying harder than you were,

“i got lost here. all alone.”

usually, you would feel embarrassed to cry or say something like that, especially in front of han seojun. but right now, you don’t care at all. on the contrary, you feel so happy that seojun found you, once again.

eyebrows drawing together, he lifts your chin up to take a better look at you,

“look at me.”

attempting to stop yourself from crying, you look into his eyes.

“it’s over now, y/n.”

“seojun-ah-” you trail off when you notice your voice shaking slightly, still taken aback by the whole situation.

“you’re not alone anymore. i’m with you.”, seojun wipes the last tears away from your face before pulling you in for a tight hug, strong arms wrapping around your figure. you feel relieved when he rubs your back comfortingly.

taking in a breath, you wrap your arms around his body, hugging him even tighter. face resting on his chest, you’re eventually able to calm down as he hums caring words into your hair with soothing voice.

fortunately, both of you find a way out of the woods. the whole time seojun held your hand tightly in his to make you feel safe. silence took over both of you, no single word leaving your mouths. now and then his thumb rubbed the back of your hand which helped you calm down.

but it definitely didn’t help your poor heart. instead of slowing down, it only beat faster.

isn’t it strange how seojun is the one who found you again, when you were lost in the woods? what’s even stranger is the fact that you feel differently near him. needless to say, you enjoy finding yourself in his arms. you also liked falling asleep on him in the bus ride.

it couldn’t be...

eventually you arrive at the hotel. eyes darting around your surroundings, you cough shyly,

“we should uh, we should go in now. again, thank you, seojunnie.”

seojunnie?

instantly your eyes widen in horror at the fact that you decided to call him by the nickname you gave him when you were younger. embarrassed, you’re unable to make eye contact and rub your neck before letting go off his hand after mumbling a good night under your breath.

however, before you have the chance to leave, seojun reaches for your wrist and pulls you back lightly. the boy tries to hide his pleasant smile and stares at you. surprised, you wait for him to speak.

“it may be a little too late. it also be not the right time or place to say this. but i just have to tell you that i’m sorry.”

sorry?

seojun notices the frown on your face and continues after taking a deep breath,

“i’m sorry for everything. i’m sorry for treating you nothing like a friend, i’m sorry for annoying you all the time, i’m sorry that i stole your audition and i’m so sorry for telling suho to stay away from you.”

the boy talks nervously, a look of guilt appearing on his face.

“it’s my fault that our friendship ended like that and i should have never done those things. i-i don’t know why i went that far and didn’t question your feelings but... but i just want you to know that i sincerely feel sorry. i’m sorry, y/n.”

utterly absorbed in his speech, you don’t notice him taking a bracelet made out of flowers until he wraps it around your wrist carefully. the feeling of his fingers brushing over your wrist causes butterflies to appear in your stomach.

“i hope you forgive me.”

after putting the bracelet on your wrist, seojun watches you staring at it with a look of surprise. the poor boy feels nothing but nervous standing in front of you, waiting for your reaction. after all, he’s content that he’s finally able to apologize, which took him long enough.

“i do. it’s okay, seojun.”

when you smile at him with happiness written in your eyes, he can’t believe his ears. how can you forgive him so easily? the young boy stands there silently in shock.

“seojun-ah?”

“you forgive me? really?”

hearing his excited tone, you nod while playing with the bracelet, eyes not leaving his,

“i’m happy we’re friends again, seojun.”

abruptly, he pulls you in for another hug, spinning you around,

“i missed you.” he mutters under his breath while you chuckle with amusement,

“i missed you too! but i think i’m gonna fall.”

after putting you down, seojun grins at you with loving eyes, happier than ever.

will he be able to overcome his feelings this time? needless to say, he likes you more than just a friend. but for now, he just wants to be near you again.

“race you to the rooms, zombie.”,

after pinching your cheeks, seojun sprints away. soon you follow him, laughing at the nickname,

“hey! you didn’t count!”

to be continued...

724 notes · View notes

rosie-moons · 3 years ago

Text

Doggy Paddling || jjk

~Pairing: swimming instructor!jungkook x beginner!reader

~Genre: so much fluffy fluff

~Word Count: 2.4k

~Warnings: reader flailing around in water, shirtless jungkook (sorry not sorry), wet haired jungkook (sorry not sorry), jungkook and reader just being the cutest fluffy lovebirds, loads of softness

~Synopsis: Step 1: Drive to indoor swimming pool classes. Step 2: Enter swimming pool building. Step 3: Change into bathing suit. Step 4: Learn to swim. Easy peasy. Er, at least it was easy peasy, up until step #4. That’s when you actually climbed down into the pool and found out that your swimming instructor was possibly the hottest guy you’d ever seen in your life. Not only that, but he kept smiling at you, and it was adorable, which doesn’t make sense since someone just can’t be hot and adorable at the same time. Ugh, why must you be blessed with him for 3 months?

~A/N: Hi! This is my first fic on here, and I'm veeeery nervous... I hope you enjoy it! P.S. If you liked it, feel free to heart it, but please don't reblog!

~''~

“Mmhm, yep, you’re g-o gorgeous today,” You say with confidence, making double gun fingers at yourself in the mirror.

You’d ordered a black bikini online, in preparation of wowing everyone at the swimming lessons. It was quite simple, really, with straps over your shoulders and ties across your hip bones. The curvy blonde models on the website looked stunning in it, though. So stunning, in fact, that you pressed “add to cart” faster than you could say “add to cart”.

Your face sagged a bit when you realized you, in fact, did not look like the models in the images. Tummy not as toned with light abs, chest not as big. You sighed.

Stuffing your t-shirt, underwear, and jean shorts back into your duffel bag and setting it in the tiny locker, you took one last look at yourself in the mirror and set out on your adventure- er, if you’d call swimming lessons that.

~''~

“Y/N? Hellooo?”

You blink rapidly, snapping back to reality. You take a few seconds to realize you’re sitting on the edge of the pool with your feet dipped into the water. “Um. Sorry?”

The guy laughs, and it’s an airy, happy sound. You blush. He’s incredibly attractive, with wavy black hair, parts of it sticking to his forehead from the water. He has big, starry, eyes, almost like a doe’s. It’s hard not to get lost in them. His bunny teeth are on full display, pearly white and adorable. His whole face is adorable, in fact.

“You’ve been staring at me for, what, 15 minutes?” He teases with laughter still in his eyes. “Am I really that handsome?”

You’re about to say “yes” when he pulls you down into the pool, one arm pulled tightly across your lower back and the other scooped around your neck. You squeal. “Put me down!”

He puts you down.

Bad idea.

You just remembered that you can’t swim, and if he puts you down then you are going to drown. “ACTUALLY- *spit sputter*- DON’T PUT- *cough spit*- ME DOWN!! I CAN’T- *sputter cough* SWIM!! PICK ME UP, HANDSOME- *spit cough*- GUY!!!”

He laughs again, a sound you’re already starting to love. “Alright, alright. Your wish is my command, after all.” He takes you back into a koala position so your legs are wrapped tightly around his waist. At that you blush again. Not just from the hug part, but from you actually taking a good look at his body.

To say the simplest, it’s amazing.

He definitely goes to the gym at least 8 times a day, definitely eats only brussel sprouts, definitely has never been to the beach, or anywhere with too much sunlight (explain his fair skin then, missy), and definitely is tall.

You don’t care if that’s what’s going through your mind instead of swimming, you only care about this gorgeous man that’s smiling and is holding you in his arms. This gorgeous man that’s currently asking if you know the 4 basic stokes. Or was it sokes?

“Um…” You stutter nervously. “The 4… um… yeah, I… definitely know the… 4… stokes. Or sokes.”

He shakes his head, faking disappointment. “Pay more attention, sweetheart. You’ll never learn if you just stare at and admire me.”

“I was not-”

He chuckles. “Yeah, yeah, you totally weren’t staring at my abs. Totally.” That makes you blush harder. He seems to like that, smirking just the tiniest bit. “Anyway, I was asking if you know the 4 strokes. Freestyle, backstroke, butterfly, and breaststroke.”

You shake your head. “I’ve… watched them on TV though. In the Olympics. Does that count?”

“...No,” He bites his lip for a second, thinking. Then, as though he just had a brilliant idea- his smile grows wide as the day and he nearly drops you in excitement. “LUMI!!”

An attractive girl with big hazel eyes and her hair dyed bright pink pokes her head out of the shower room. “What’s up?”

“Get over here for a second,”

She steps out, and you nearly gasp (...nearly) at how damn stunning she is. In a magenta floral printed one-piece suit, her tiny waist, wide hips, and long, long legs stand out like a dot of black in a field of white. When she walks, it looks like she’s in one of those super high end fashion shows with paparazzi all around. To be honest, you wouldn’t be surprised if paparazzi started showing up right at that very moment.

When she gets close enough, you see her nametag reads “Lumianne”. Even her name is pretty.

“Did baby boy Jungkook lose his swimming trunks again?” She teases, rolling her eyes playfully. “Do I need to call mommy?”

The guy- Jungkook-’s grip on you momentarily tightens as you watch his face flush a tomato red. “No, actually. Did you?”

“I don’t wear swimming trunks.”

“Exactly. That’s why you shouldn’t ask me.”

“But you do wear swimming trunks.”

“... JUST STOP, OKAY? JUST BECAUSE YOU JUST DYED YOUR HAIR DOESN’T MEAN YOU’RE THE QUEEN OF THE WORLD.”

“Okay, okay. What do you want me to do? You know I’m supposed to be taking a hot shower right now after a day of screaming little kids kicking water in my face but you called me over so I can’t, right?. Are you gonna talk? ‘Cause if not, I’m leaving.”

“What I was going to say, before you rudely called me a baby boy, is that Y/N here has no experience in swimming-”

You kick his leg under the water.

“- and I need you to hand over the curriculum paper ‘cause I haven’t taught someone like this in a loong time.”

Lumianne rolls her eyes again. “Get them yourself. I’m going back to the showers. Bye, baby boy.”

“Wait!” Jungkook calls after her. “I can’t move ‘cause Y/N won’t let go of me!” Lumianne sighs, leaning down to pick up a few papers on a clipboard. She walks back to Jungkook, handing them over to him.

“Need anything else?”

Jungkook shakes his head, letting you squeeze him tighter as he lets go of the arm holding your shoulders. “Nope. Thanks though.”

She smiles mischievously. “I think I deserve a strawberry tart.”

Jungkook groans, swatting her away. “I bought you one this week already.”

“Only one!”

You can’t help but smile. Everyone here is so witty, attractive, and nice- you love it already. (“Only a tiny part of why I love it so much is Jungkook.” You mentally scream to your brain.)

~''~

“JUNGKOOK! NOOOO! I CANNN’T!!!!” You whine childishly, hanging on to Jungkook as though your life depended on it. He sighed for the millionth time that day.

“Y/N, the water’s only 5’6 deep. Plus, I’ll catch you if you drown. In fact, I’ll hold your back as you do it. Just please, please try to float on your back, okay?”

Only 5’6? Only 5’6?! Heck, maybe it wasn’t a lot for him, but for you…

“NO!”

Jungkook sighed again. “Listen baby, I need you to try, okay? I’ll help you, but if you keep refusing like this, you aren’t ever gonna learn to swim. Okay?” You stared at him, mouth hanging open slightly. “What?”

“Did you… just call me… b-baby?!” You nearly faint as Jungkook tilts his head slightly, adorably pouting the tiniest bit.

“So I did.”

“So I did?! That’s what you say after you call me baby?!?! Baby?!?!” You splutter, heart booming and threatening to leap out of your ribcage. You’re so stupidly in love, cheeks burning red and palms sticky with sweat, and here Jungkook is just tilting his head and acting like he did nothing.

It’s so unfair.

“So what if I called you baby?” He responds, big, starry doe eyes staring at you. Ugh. This is so stupid.

You’re about to yell again when Lumianne comes back out of the showers, pink hair wet yet still so stylish. She smirks.

“Hey lovebirds. May I take a photo?”

“NO!” You scream.

“NO!” Jungkook screams.

Lumianne takes a photo.

~''~

It’s been 1 month since you started at APC Swimming, (not Attractive People Center Swimming, but rather Amazing Performance Center Swimming. The cute red haired swimming instructor who just so happened to be Jungkook’s #1 target for his “games” named Jimin told you.) and you’re proud to say that you have mastered floating on your back, sticking your head underwater for 13 seconds, doggy paddling a very short distance, and talking to Jungkook without looking like an idiot.

Lumianne- whose hair is now a striking blue- also somehow became your best friend.

No idea how.

Anyway, you also bought a new swimsuit. It was a hot pink bikini that Lumianne insisted upon, saying that it "was made for supermodels like Gigi Hadid but you should wear it anyways since it will definitely wow Jungkook".

Yes, she knew of your crush on him, and yes, she was a Hadid superfan.

After pondering whether to wear the black swimsuit Jungkook was used to or the new pink one Lumianne liked for hours in the changing rooms, you finally decide on the pink one.

He’d love a surprise…

Right?

~''~

“Y/N! How was your- um.” Jungkook clears his throat, face burning red. He suddenly becomes very interested in a purple heart tattoo on his hand. “I… like your new… um…”

“Bikini?” You finish the sentence for him, blinking innocently.

“Erm… yes. B-bikini. It… suits you… very… um… well.” He’s still picking at the tattoo, cheeks flushed and voice stuttering.

“Thank you. Lumianne picked it out for me.” You smile sweetly, climbing down into the pool.

“Are you guys like best friends now?” He blurts out, trying oh so hard to change the subject. “I wouldn’t be surprised. You’re both annoying at times and you’re also both really… erm…”

“Un-stylish?” You suggest, trying hard not to smirk. You know what he’s talking about, and it’s not about style.

“No, um…”

“Like the color pink?”

“Not exactly, uh…”

“Then what is it?”

Jungkook’s face is a flaming crimson now, the skin where his tattoo is reddened from picking at it. He knows you know what he’s talking about. He knows you know that he was going to say that you’re both goddamn-

“You’re both attractive, although you’re way more attractive,” It comes out before he can control it, seeming like the words have a mind of their own as they stumble out of his mouth. “I-I mean…” You watch his hand flying up to cover his mouth.

"You think I'm attractive?" You question, smiling as your heart swelled with butterflies. "Well, you're also attractive.”

He smiles wide, bunny teeth showing and twinkly eyes dancing with something like shyness and joy mixed together.

“Th-thanks.”

You continue smiling at each other for a long time, and would’ve (for hours, maybe) if Lumianne hadn’t walked into the pool area holding onto the arm of an extremely tall and muscular blonde man. She smirks.

“Calvin, meet Y/N and Jungkook. Y/N’s the cute bookworm I went shopping with yesterday, and Jungkook’s that annoying guy with tattoos. Hey lovebirds. Looks like we’re in the middle of interrupting something…” She giggles. “So we’ll leave you two alone to smooch!”

Jungkook and you nearly topple over screaming a very loud “WE’RE NOT SMOOCHING” in perfect unison.

Calvin smiles mischievously. “Lumi, do you have your phone with you?”

Lumianne nods. “Yeah, why?”

“I think you should take a photo of them,” He smiles wider at the horrified look on your and Jungkook’s faces.

“Oh yeah.” Lumianne snickers. “I should totally take a photo. I already have an album in my phone of their pictures, btw. It’s called Jungkook&Y/N kissin in a tree. I should rename it though, I just learned Y/N wants to kiss JK at a fancy restaurant instead-”

“LUMIANNE!!”

The camera clicks.

“One more photo to add to my album!”

~''~

It’s your last lesson with Jungkook. 3 months passed quicker than you thought, and you’re sorry this might be the last time you see him. Lumianne seemed to notice you were a bit sad today, and she rushed off to “do something with Calvin”.

You knew what she was doing wasn’t about Calvin, but then… what?

When you entered the pool area, you were surprised to find that Jungkook wasn’t in the pool with his usual warm greeting. Instead, all you found was a note with messy handwriting reading: “hey Y/N, it’s kook :) meet me behind the APC building”. Furrowing your brow, you look around the pool. There’s no one except you.

Picking up the note, you walk out the doors.

~''~

Of everything you expected to see, none of it was Jungkook standing in front of you with wide, nervous eyes and a bouquet of flowers in his hands. “Jungkook?”

“Oh. You’re here. Um,” He looks around, although looking for something- or someone.

“Hey Y/N-pootsie,” Lumianne steps out, hair dark crimson with matching bold lipstick and eyeshadow. She smiles, looking very satisfied with herself. “I believe Mr. Jeon Jungkook has something to say to you.”

“Um,” Jungkook shoots her a look before clearing his throat. “I, um, in fact, do have… a thing… I mean, 2 things… to say… to… you…”

“Okay?” You stare at him, and it’s curious more than anything, but to him it just seems intimidating.

“Um… I… uh…” He swallows. “Ireallylikeyouandhavelikedyoufrom thefirstdaywemet and um doyouwannagoonadatewithme?”

You blink. "You... like me?"

"...Yes."

“I… I don’t know what to say to you. There’s just no way I could-”

“It’s okay!” Jungkook yells, hurt seeping into those eyes you loved watching crinkle up as he smiled. “I-I don’t want to pressure you or anything! I-”

“Jungkook.”

“Really! If you don’t feel-”

“Jungkook!”

He paused. “Yeah?”

“What I was going to say is that there’s just no way I could refuse something like this!” You say. His eyes go even wider.

“W-what?”

You kiss him.

He’s soft.

When you let go, Jungkook has the biggest dopey grin on his face. You mirror it, starting to laugh. Lumianne stands on the side with a small smile on her face, the kind of smile you give when your daughter gets married. Sort of half sad-ish half happy for her.

“Aww, you’re both so sweet. I guess it’s time for a ph-”

“NO, LUMIANNE!”

Click.

~''~

Whewwwwww! That was loads of fun to write. Welp, now that that's over, time for a new fic (or series!)

Please heart if you enjoyed, but don't reblog!

-*+ Rose +*-

#jungkook #bts jungkook #bts fluff #bts oneshot #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #jungkook x you

52 notes · View notes

serendipityjxmn · 4 years ago

Text

Mr. President

Chapter 2

TW: Mentions of bruises, scars etc

Words Count: 1.3k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 3

The sun feels very blinding on your face. Trying to move your muscle one by one, pain suddenly rips through your body making you whimper.

“Careful.” A voice in the room says which you somehow immediately know belongs to Mr. Park.

Your eyes fling open to search for him and you find him in no time as he is seated on the bedside, watching you carefully. It’s almost unfair how illegally good looking he is.

You try to sit up but ends up groaning in pain. Your whole body hurt, every muscle is aching and screaming in pain.

“Your body’s still recovering. You need to take it slow.” He says impassively, not a hint of warmth.

“Where.. am I..?” Your voice hoarse.

“My house.” He simply says.

His house??? How- why-

Wincing and grunting, you eventually manage to sit up. You finally realize that you’re in a large and spacious bedroom with sleek beige furnitures and interiors decorating it.

You then allow yourself to stare at your saviour. Now that it’s morning, you can clearly see him and all his features. His gaze bores into you but you can’t deny how beautiful they are, his nose although not high but is sharp enough, his cheeks high and his lips.. he has a pair of very pretty pink plump lips, you note. Almost reluctantly, you drop your gaze to avoid being called lunatic or pervert for staring unashamedly.

Your gaze flickers back up when he stands, one hand in his pocket.

“I placed the painkillers there.” He juts his chin towards the bedside table and only now you notice the medicine and a glass of empty water there. “Feel free to leave once you’re capable enough to do so.” He frowns slightly, then turns.

You reach forward almost immediately, wincing at the throbbing pain on your ribs especially due to sudden movement. Without thinking, you reach for his free hand, gripping it desperately.

“Please-“ you croak and he turns, still frowning at your daringness to touch him. “Please- take me in. I’ll- I’ll.. do anything, I’ll work for you- anything. Just.. just please don’t-“ You trail off, because you don’t exactly know what you wish for.

For several moments, he just regards you. And for the briefest second, you think he would smile, takes your hand and mutters softly that he’s going to help you.

But nothing of the sort happens.

He just continues to stare at you impassively, clearly not impressed. The way he stares at you makes you feel small so you withdraw your hand, flustered and embarrassed for coming to this point in your life.

He sighs then. “Just rest.” Is all he says before he turns and leaves you alone, feeling even more helpless than ever.

Your shoulders slump back down and suddenly the realization that you really are going to be in the streets with no one to help brings fresh tears to your eyes. So you cry. For hours until you’re exhausted enough to fall asleep again.

The dark must’ve just set when you find yourself awake again, body aching even more now though there’s a lesser pain in your chest since you’ve let it all out from all the crying session.

You struggle to sit up when you feel your throat burning. You’re very thirsty. Letting out small squeaks with each muscle and limb you’re moving, you manage to sit yourself on the edge of the bed.

There’s a faint knock on the door that you think if you’re asleep you wouldn’t have heard them at all. Before you could react, the door opens and an elderly woman with her hair tied up in a bun appears. She smiles kindly as she calls your name.

“Miss..?” She hovers near the doorframe. “I brought you some fresh clothes, you can change into them. The bathroom is just beside you and if you’re done you can come outside and I’ll show you to Mr. Park’s study. He wants to see you.”

Your stomach lurches in response. He couldn’t possibly want to sue me.. or worse, kill me, right? Flashes of images of him beating your brother makes you shudder. One thing you know for sure is that he’s not someone to be messed with.

You stand though staggering slightly as your legs wobble. The elderly woman who introduces herself as Mrs. Lee immediately steps in and asks with a concern look whether you need help. You shake your head, telling you just need to take it slow and Mrs. Lee leaves you at your own devices after that.

Though not without numerous wincing and grunting, you somehow manage to shower as well, or more like wiping your body here and there. You briefly think that if you’re well enough, you’d be basking in the warm water the hot tub offers and appreciates the lavish interior of the bathroom.

You flinch when you see your own reflection in the mirror. You couldn’t have been in a worse state than this throughout your whole life. Bruises littering your body everywhere, it’s all marks of blue and purple, wounds and scratches from being thrown to the ground and your lips are slightly torn at the edge. There is also a cut above your right brow. You couldn’t really recognise yourself.

Sure, you had plenty experiences of being beaten by your abusive brother but last night, your brother seemed determine to beat you half dead. You sigh, tears almost threatening but you quickly brush it off. You have to be strong.

Outside the bathroom, there’s a white medium dress laid on the bed together with matching undergarments. You pick the dress up, eyes litting up at the beauty of it. You’ve never worn a dress before, simply because you can’t afford to be dressing up when you’re burdened with financial debts your whole life.

Still, you’re grateful since wearing a dress is still an easier task than having to fit through a jeans or leggings.

There’s a knock on the door again and Mrs. Lee appears again. Wow, she really has a knack of figuring your timing. She approaches you as you stand awkwardly on the dressing table.

“Would you sit down, Miss? Let me brush your hair.”

“Y- you don’t have to.” She doesn’t listen though, instead placing firm hands on your shoulder and putting slight pressure to make you sit in front of the dressing table. It somehow feels weird to be staring at your own reflection.

Mrs. Lee brushes your hair tenderly like a mother would her daughter. She then braids your hair slightly and tie it up in a bun, letting a few strands fall freely on each side of your head.

You feel weird. For once.. you think you look decent. Though bruises are still apparent on most of the surface of your skin and no makeup to cover your face, you don’t look so tired like always.

“Miss..?” Mrs. Lee interrupts your reverie as she taps your shoulder lightly. “I’ll show you to Mr. Park’s study. He’s waiting for you.”

And there goes your stomach churning again at the mention of Mr. Park. You’ve no idea what to expect and that makes your stomach churns further, anxiety almost swallowing you whole.

Mrs. Lee leads you out of the bedroom into the hall filled with arts and paintings on the wall and only coming to a stop when you almost reach the end of the hallway in front of a double mahogany door. She knocks on them and you don’t miss the escalating heart beat of yours as your anxiety heightens as she announces your arrival to whoever’s waiting on the other side of the door.

She doesn’t wait for an answer but opens the door and urges you to enter. Filled with trepidation as if you’re entering a lion’s den, you step inside.

If you thought the bedroom you were in just now was huge, it doesn’t compare to this study room. It’s vast, with bookshelves surrounding it and rows and rows of books, old or new filling it. Across the room, there’s a table by the window and you finally see the man sitting behind it. He doesn’t look up when you enter so you stand there awkwardly, fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

There’s also another man standing across the table, facing Mr. Park.

He turns at the sound of you entering and your jaw almost drop at the visual of this man. He’s tall, skin slightly tanned but above all, the features of his face are almost out of this world. Eyes sculpted to perfection, tall nose and sharp jaw, he stares at you making you stop short in your tracks. The corner of his lips tugs very lightly as he addresses your presence.

“Ah, Miss Y/N.” His voice is very, very low without him having to make the effort. “Please, come here and have a seat.”

He gestures towards your right and you notice a seating area with plush white sofa and modern table. You don’t move until the guy who was speaking just now moves towards the sofa followed by Mr. Park. You chance a glance at Mr. Park as he takes confident strikes across the room and you marvel at the way even his walking exudes charisma. He takes his seat gracefully, sitting cross legged and you miss the way he eyes you from top to bottom as you walk over while the tanner guy remains standing beside him and only now you notice he’s holding several papers in his hands.

He looks at you and gestures you to take a seat once more which you do. You almost buckle in nervousness as the two’s gaze land on you.

“So, Miss Y/N,” the guy standing starts. “My name is Kim Taehyung, nice to meet you.”

If your senses aren’t tingling all the time and you aren’t fidgeting so much in anxiety, you’d probably have half the brain to answer to his sentence but right now you’re trying very hard to do as much as breathing that you end up mumbling incoherent reply, much to the guy named Taehyung’s amusement though Mr. Park’s expression remains impassive.

“I understand that your family had been a tenant of one of Park Corporations housing area for more than twenty years now. You also have a history of late payment since five years ago and currently has a backlog of payment for one year, amounting 4 million KRW. Is that correct?”

You feel beads of sweat starting to appear on your forehead but you still nod nevertheless.

“You failed to pay for the past year which resulted to the house being seized and you’d be homeless but.. here you are..”

You try to hide the grimace as Taehyung addresses the obvious situation.

“And you still owe Mr. Park here 4 million KRW and may I ask if you have any means to settle them within this month?”

You swallow. You want to ask for another chance, to give more time but you know even if they do give you a chance, there’s no way you can rake millions just like that. Unless you sell yourself, perhaps. And that still might not make up the amount of money. So naturally, you just shake your head slightly.

“So, Miss Y/N, since you’re owing such huge amount to Mr. Park and you have no means to pay.. that means you’re technically..” Taehyung continues but was cut off by Mr. Park.

“Mine.” He says and the word echoes in your mind a million time. You’re.. what? You look up at him and see the corner of his mouth slightly quirks up like he’s smirking. Your gaze flickers to Taehyung too and he’s doing the same as well making a shiver run down your spine. Why do you feel like you’re being sold to the devil..

“So I have a proposition for you.” This time it’s Mr. Park speaking. “A marriage contract.”

A WHAT?

Link to Chapter 3

Posted on 210325 9:00PM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnmrpresident #mrpresident #bts fic #jimin fic #jimin au #park jimin #parkjimin #jimin smut #smut #kpop #mafia #jimin mafia #ceo jimin #bts smut #bts au #bts mafia

109 notes · View notes

iwannaholdyoutight- · 4 years ago

Text

confessioni di sex shop (a sunlight little story)

This is a little piece I wrote after de Gucci short movie, it followes the story of Harry and Lavignia and her sexual descovery. You can read the one shot here .

It’s Italy Harry, with a dash of the 70s and a lot of sex. You don’t have to read the firsy piece to understand this! Also: pegging!h

Summary: Harry takes Lav to her first sex shop trip and there she descovers a new kink: pegging her boyfriend.

Word count: 7k

Preview:

Lavignia knew Harry for a little while but she already knew it was impossible to ever become accustomed to how direct and honest he was about everything. If Harry felt something, he was going to say. If he wants something he’s going to say. There is almost nothing that can make him blush, actually…

“I think is unfair how you can make me dizzy and unsettled with just a few words and I can never even make you blush”

“You make me blush all the time, my dear. Just by being being here with me you already make me blush with desire and burn with such a loving feeling”

“The best part of dating a poet is that every word that leaves his mouth feels like a book that only I can read”

“You can open me anytime you want, little darling” he said with a mischievous grin “and there is the blush I love so much… where is my kiss, love?”

“And you can put the painting over there” said the demanding voice of Jesse Fire, one of the gallery owners. Lavignia could see from the corner of her eyesight that Lovelace was rolling her eyes

“Lance, sweetheart” Lovelace started “you know nothing about art so can you let me and Lav decide?”

He gave her a sarcastic laugh, oh how Lavignia wanted to hit him.

“Well I pay for the stuff so I have a say in this”

“My darling I can’t wait for this painting to be here, for the journalist get your pictures next to it so you can finally go back to Rome”

“That’s the price you pay when you need a billionaire to support you little art gallery” he said walking away towards the office.

“Lovelace, I’m so jealous of Vanessa. I mean...” Lavignia started “She’s so lucky to be in honeymoon right now, she doesn’t have to deal with… him” she continued while looking around the books, doing research for the next exbithion “Right now she is in sunny California, going to concerts, fucking all the time… that’s the life”

“Oh wow… two months ago you couldn’t even say “sex” and now you are so freely talking about fucking all the time. What have we done to you” Lovelace said with a small laugh.

“It’s the energy of this place if you want me to be honest”

“The energy of this place or a certain someone that is loving on you all the time”

“That someone is partly responsible, yeah. But I like to think the change because of me, and because I wanted to”

“Of course, darling” said Lovelace “and speaking about Harry… how’s the book?”

“I don’t know, he said I can only read it when it’s done… but it’s unfair, how can he call me his muse and just not let me read what he’s writing about me?”

Just like Harry knew they were talking about him, he got into the gallery wearing the shortest jean shorts ever - an only pair of flare jeans that got so worn out that he decided to turn into shorts, but he cut it too short. Lav said for him to just wear the shorts at home, but of course he wouldn’t listen. And now here he was, walking inside his workplace looking out of a porn movie.

“You know I’m starting to think neither of you work, all you do is talk about me” he said getting closer, using his arms to pull Lovelace into a side hug and then walking towards Lavignia with a little plastic pag hanging between his long fingers “Little darling, I got you lunch” he said giving her a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Baby, you didn’t have to…”

“Lav, the way I know him, he came here to check on Jesse”

“Look the guy is always treating everyone here like shit but …’ his voice got softer “I wanted to see you. I missed you on my bed this morning”

“I happen to own an apartment and I have to sleep there sometimes, Harry”

“I know, I know, darling. But I can’y help but miss you terribly”

Getting closer and closer he gave her a peck, by now Lovelace knew how lost inside their little word they could get when they were together, so she was no longer paying attention to the couple that was kissing sweetly and talking in whispers.

“So” Harry started “You think we can go today?”

“Yeah, I have done so much and Lovelace was talking about getting out early so we didn’t have to deal with Jesse”

“I’m so anxious to take you there, I think it’s going to be a good experience for you… and for me”

“Taking her where?” the obnoxious voice of Jesse sounded from a bit far but was there “You are taking my employee out during working hours”

“You know just Like you I own ¼ of this business and if there is someone that can complain of her leaving early is Lovelace that owns 2/4. So you can just shut the fuck up”

Lav was trying hard not to laugh at his response. She hated Jesse but she loved how much Harry didn’t even try to hide his dislike for the guy, always with the right answers.

“And she can go” Lovelace started “but… if I’m allowed the curiosity, where are you taking her, Harry?

They looked at each other and answered at the same time:

“Shopping” she said.

“A sex shop” he said.

“COME ONE, HARRY” he was laughing at her

“Darling we are among friends” sparing a cold look towards Jesse Fire he continued “and somewhat people we have to endure. And it’s your first sex shop trip, it’s special”

He talked while helping her put together her stuff so they could leave

“Harry, I didn’t knew we can now work dressed like a little slut” Jesse was trying to get a rinse out of Harry, but today Harry was too happy with Lav to shallow his provocative words

“You are only jealous I look better with these little shorts than any woman you ever tried to fuck”

Lovelace was laughing while Lav was pinching his bum so he could shut up. She really wanted to leave.

“Lav” oh, no. Jesse was now coming for her “you are too beautiful to hang out with someone like Harry. You deserve a manly man”

“Jesse, sweetheart” she said while holding Harry’s hand and walking towards the door without even sparing a glance towards the blonde man “I like my manly man with jeans shorts and colorful skirts, haven’t you heard? It’s easier to fuck, by the way, you should give it a shot” looking up at Harry she could see his green eyes shinning with pride “or maybe…” turning around to look at Jesse, she wanted to humiliate him a little bit “don’t, you would never pull this style of. And by the way: you’re pathetic”.

Walking toward Harry’s yellow BMW she looked at him

“What a miracle you’re with the car and not the harley”

“I wanted to piss Jesse off”

“I think we did a good job” she told him while getting inside the car with his hand on her back

“I think we did” bending down he have her a sweet but longer kiss than the ones they shared inside “now, shall we go to the sex shop, my lady?”

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

The sun was high in the sky, the august weather was nice. Lavignia was enjoying the sandwich and strawberry juice Harry had made her while he drove on the coast. From the window she could see kids and their family playing with them by the beach, beautiful girls wearing only a bikini and walking around with their colorful rollerblades.

The radio was playing some romantic song in Italian, she could hear the faint voice of Harry humming along some of the words, with a hand on the steering wheel and the other holding her thigh. With his green eyes covered by yellow ray bans, Lavignia wanted to know what he was thinking.

“A kiss for your thoughts?” Asked the woman

“You could have just asked me” he said looking at her briefly “but who am I to refuse a kiss from you, specially when I know it’s going to taste like strawberries” smiling he continued to drive while looking at her every few seconds “I was thinking about only a few months ago when we met and I thought you weren’t going to last inside that gallery and now here I am, taking you to your first sex shop trip, writing a book about my beautiful dark haired Venus, who I happen to be able to call ‘my girlfriend’ and I’m just so so so fond of you. Sometimes I can’t believe I actually have found you because… you’re perfect. You’re everything I wanted and I didn’t even knew that till I laid my eyes on that shy creature that was blushing while I talked about acid trips and ménage but managed to overcome her prejudice and allowed me to love on her”

“I think is unfair how you can make me dizzy and unsettled with just a few words and I can never even make you blush”

“You make me blush all the time, my dear. Just by being being here with me you already make me blush with desire and burn with such a loving feeling”

“The best part of dating a poet is that every word that leaves his mouth feels like a book that only I can read”

“You can open me anytime you want, little darling” he said with a mischievous grin “and there is the blush I love so much… where is my kiss, love?”

Raising from her seat she got closer to the man and gave him a peck on the cheek

“Heey, I want a real one”

“You are driving”

After that they continued with a comfortable silence till they came to a stop at the traffic light. Lav was distracted by the way the sunlight was reflecting on the opal ring Harry gave her last week when she felt his hands on the back for her neck, pulling her close, demanding attention.

She looked at him and felt his lips on her at the same moment. A fervent kiss.

Harry was a lover. He had all the love languages inside of him. He was a words of affirmation type of guy in the morning when he was making her breakfast, with her eyes looking like she was a little panda from all the fucking the night before, and he looks at her and says “so beautiful with last night all over you”.

Harry also was an acts of service type of man, from bringing her lunch to fixing her house cleaning when she was too busy with the gallery. He also liked to receive as much as he loved giving gifs: he was so thankful when he got home from a meeting with his editor and there was a pair of fluffy handmade pants she left for him since she couldn’t be there but at the same time, Harry would drive all the way through Rome just to find the perfect opal ring to give to her.

A quality time together was also one of his ways of expressing love: from the way he holds her tight everyday to how he liked hanging out late at the gallery just watching her work. They didn’t have to do anything and he would still love every second he was with her.

At last but not least, Harry was a firm believer in physical touch, of course, always with a hand on her. Not only to be sexual, but in a casual intention: it was a way of reminding both of them they weren’t alone anymore. They had each other.

Harry was made out of love from head to toe and Lavignia just wanted for him to feel just as loved. Emotionally and sexually. She was his at the same pace he was hers.

She was good with words but not very good with the sexual part. But she was getting better. She no longer was that same judgmental girl that came running during a sunny Monday morning inside the gallery.

This sex shop travel came in handy: she was going to find something to make him quiver just like he did to her. Even if she is blushing the whole time.

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

It was a small street almost on the way out of the villa they lived in. There were little houses everywhere, all colorful. Harry was holding Lav's hand and looking around. She was always impressed with how much he didn’t care what people thought of him, walking around with his tiny shorts, showing his long legs and pretty bum.

“You know it’s unfair that you have such a pretty little but”

His loud laugh made everybody look at them.

“What are you complaining about? I mean… you quite enjoy holding onto this pretty ass when I’m deep inside of you”

“I’m not complaining I just said it’s not fair, you get to be all perfect and I just live in wonder that I get to be with you and see this pretty butt almost everyday”

“You can do more than just see” Lav was in shock but Harry already knew that. After those few months together he knew all the buttons to push, partly thankfully for her sexual inexperience once they first met because he always melted at the same time parts of him got even harder from the way she would react to every new thing they did “I love when you make that face but you know what I love even more?”

Making her walk backwards towards the wall of a very blue house he used his left arm to raise her a little bit so he could look inside her eyes.

“I love when I show you something new during sex and for 2 seconds you look at me curious and then your eyes go darker because this thing you didn’t even knew it could happen makes you feel all hot” Lavignia was feeling hypnotized, that was Harry’s biggest power: to make her melt under his spell “and that’s why I’m so excited because I’m gonna spend a few minutes watching your reactions to everything and I can’t wait to see how you’ll react… by the way, we’re here”. He said with his head pointing towards the blue house she was resting her back.

Okay. Lavignia could do this.

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

She never saw so many dicks in her life.

Of course they were plastic.

But the moment she got inside the store she was shocked. Still holding Harry’s hand she walked towards a pink wall full of dildos in every size.

“If you see anything you like, let me know” she heard his voice from behind her “it’s my gift to you”

“Harry… I don’t know what I want out of tonight so I can go and buy what I want”

“Well, I can always give you a tour” she heard a slow and sensual female voice from her side.

When Lavignia turned around she was met with two large breasts covered by a simple black and white dress, the woman was tall. With big blonde curls and blue eyes, Lavignia had to raise her head to be able to look at the goddess that was waiting for her to say anything.

“Harry, per quanto tempo, mi amore. Come stai” the blonde woman continued to talk, now in Italian.

“Screvivendo il mio nuovo libro” he said while giving her a kiss on the cheek “Nadine, let me introduce you to Lavignia, my girlfriend. Lav, this is an old friend of mine”

“Oh, it’s so lovely to finally meet the one to take this man out of his misery, last time I saw him one the weekend before that last showing, the first one you were in, I think” she said while giving Lav a kiss on the cheek, she smelled like roses and champagne. A rich smell of such a classy young lady. “anyway, how can I help you guys? Looking for a new dildo, H? Isn’t your collection already big enough?”

“Of course not and if Lav wants another one… I’ll give her, for sure”

“Sure… and Lav ” the tall woman turned to look at the shorter from the trio “do you know what you’re looking for?”

She wanted to buy something that could make Harry blush. But she didn’t want to say this with him next to her.

“Baby, you don’t have to be shy. No one is going to judge you” Harry said to her in a soft tone.

“I don’t know what to look for”

“Darling, think of all our conversations, every movie I’ve shown you, every book I have borrowed, even everything we have done sexually… is there anything you liked and want to try?”

“I liked when you held me down with the help of the handcuffs”

“That’s my girl. Do you want to get a new pair?” Yeah, she wanted one. Lavignia didn’t know exactly why but she wanted to use it on him.

“You already have that sex swing, right?” Nadine asked “I remember from your last party” Harry widened his eyes trying to get her to shup up. It worked, but now Lavignia had a few things you ask him

“Nadine would you mind that I stay alone with Harry for a little while?”

“Of course not. I’m going to tend to some people inside the costumes area. It’s a good spot, by the way, if you even want to dress like a kinky school girl”

“Oh god” she heard Harry whisper to himself. Part of him was always afraid that she started questioning his past. He was already so in love with her that the idea of her leaving him because she can’t accept everything he is, makes him sad. Especially because it has happened before.

“Darling” she said in a calm voice “what kind of parties do you happen to throw?”

Here goes nothing

“A normal one but… with a few sexual elements in the middle?”

“So what everybody fucks everybody?”

“No, you don’t have to fuck anyone to be at my party. But you can fuck anyone that is willing to fuck you at my party. The rule is that it has to be consensual”

“I have to be honest” she started with a tremble “I worry that someday you’ll think that I’m not what you want”

Harry couldn’t help but leave out breath in sign of relief. But knowing that, after everything they went through, she was still insecure about it. It made him sad. He wanted to be a synonym of peace, happiness and pleasure for her. Not insecurity.

“Darling, you are everything to me. And I have so much fun with you” he needed to say the right thing “sex is important but isn’t the foundation of a relationship. If sex was everything a relationship needed I wouldn’t be so lonely till I met you. I love being in between your legs as much as I love watching you drinking your coffee during breakfast with a big book about an art movement while I make you pancakes. I love when I visit you at the gallery when you’re not expecting me and your eyes shine like the brightest little stars. So don’t ever doubt my feelings for you”

“But like you don’t miss those things that I can’t give you?”

“But you give me everything, little darling”

“But like… you also like men”

Harry didn’t like the way this conversation was turning”

“You know I do. I thought you didn’t care about this?”

“NO, I don't, it's just….” Lavignia used her hand to hold onto his shorts, bringing him closer to her, creating s little bubble to give the impression they no one at that sex shop could hear them “don’t you miss it?”

“Men?”

“I was thinking more like… a dick, you know” Harry couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Don’t laugh at me! I was thinking when you went to England for a week to meet with your editor and I missed so much but I don’t only mean by missing you YOU. I was missing…” she was blushing so much and Harry was starting to figure it out.

“Darling you mean you missed my dick?” Harry asked while pulling him towards his body, using his hand to light her head so he could kiss her temple.

“Yeah” almost a whisper

“Don’t get shy on me now, you are telling me you miss my cock when I’m not around. Come one, tell me more. Fill my ego”

“Stop it” she said smiling but suddenly getting shy at him again “it’s just… do you even miss being filled?”

“It’s a nice feeling but I don’t want anyone else, I want you. Okay?”

“Okay. I’m sorry for being insecure, everything is so new to me”

“It’s fine, darling. I promise you”

She smiled. Harry looked at the wall of dildos, seeing the types that could be put into a harness.

“You know… there is a way you can fill me up too”

“How?”

“Do you see this?” Harry said using his hand to hold the harness “it’s for someone without a cock. We can fit a dildo or even a vibrator here” he said indicating the spot “and you can fuck me all you want, we can even get one that it’s without a strap, we call it strapless, that goes inside of you too, so we can come together.”

She had her eyes opened like a panda.

“We don’t have to do it today. If you don’t feel comfortable with the idea we don’t ever have to do it”

“But what if I did?”

“I'm going to buy a movie with a strap scene in it and also a nice kit of new plugs, like the ones you like wearing for work when we feel adventurous, and I’ll get the strap you want with the dildo you want, with a few candles, lube, a new lingerie for my princess. And then… I’ll let you fuck me”

“I want to make you blush like you do to me” she finally had the courage to say it

“Then let’s pick our toys. Do you want to be a strapless dildo or one with a strap?”

Their weekend just got even more fun than Harry thought it would be.

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

They couldn’t wait to be inside. The moment Harry parked his car, she was going for a kiss. One that he’s giving back with as much fervor. With her small sundress and Harry’s jean shorts, she could feel all of him.

“You little devil” he said after she started to move her hips, putting pressure on the ever growing budge between his legs.

“What? Should I stop?” She asked faking innocence

“Look at you being all so confident. Just wait till we’re watching one of those movies. I’m sure you’ll go back to be my blushy beauty.

“Don’t you believe me” she asked, using her hand to travel down his covered chest, till his pants. Feeling him hot all over, hard and pulsing. Waiting. Desiring her “when I say I’ll be the one to make you blush today?”

“Darling… fuck” he said moving his hips to make her slow hand movements stronger “if you don’t want this to be over before it has even started, i sugest you lead us inside the house. We have a movie to watch. Plugs to wear. And you… have an ass to fuck”

If Lavignia thought she had him by the collar, she just thought wrong. Because when he finished talking she was the one breathing heavily, needing relief. Any type of relief.

“Come on, let's take our stuff inside” he said nodding towards the shopping bags full of sexy goods for them. The night was young and Lavignia couldn’t wait to live through the night.

So, as if he was taking the bags from a trip to the grocery store, he got out of the yellow vehicle, whistling, opening the back door that leads to the very black and white tiles kitchen.

“So… she said helping him take the toys out so they could clean everything”

“Why don’t you go get dolled up for me with this new lingerie and I’ll go set the movie for us?”

“Do you remember where the projector is?”

“Yeah darling. Where do you want us?”

“I can be cliche but I want it in your bedroom”

“And in my bedroom will be. See you in 15, little darling. Go get ready”

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

The pink lace looked pretty when Lavignia looked at her reflection in the golden border mirror. It was a baby doll, completely see through. With little glitters everywhere.

Underneath there was a barely there pink lace panties. She felt like Botticelli’s Venus. Using her free hand she put her hair an elegant bun - keying sooner or later it would all come off during their activities.

She could hear Harry moving from the other side of the door. Making so they could watch the tape he had bought back at the sex shop. He told her he would get everything ready for her and she knew he would. Harry was always doing everything to make her feel comfortable.

Taking small steps she opened the door: rose wine and strawberries covered in rich chocolate could be seen sitting on the small table closer to the desk. The white panel was already up and Harry was messing with the wire of the projector.

“Hey, doll” he said, still not looking at her. He was already without his shirt, and Lavignia could see the dark patch of his pubes appearing from the shorts. He had a concentrated look on his face, trying to connects all the right wires. Finally he smiled, the job was done, raising his head to look at the smaller girl.

“You look like an angel”

“Well I’m pretty sure no angel would do what I’m about to do to you”

“A few months ago you wouldn’t either”

“Touché” she said walking towards him, letting Harry bring her close to his chest, looking closer at the ornaments on her baby doll “so, we have a movie to watch, right?”

“Yeah, but, I wanna get ready for you. Drink your wine, I’m gonna get one of the new plugs and get myself a bit stretched for you”

Giving her a kiss on the lips and a little slap on the ass, he got the bags that were resting on the bed and went to the bathroom.

Laying down on the bed with a flute between her fingers, Lavignia was lost in thoughts of desire and love.

When she first came to Italy she had no idea she would find herself and find not only love but a family. And Harry wound never fully understand how deeply her feelings for him could go.

Her body was feverish, longing for Harry to come back to bed. She wanted to touch his tummy, memorize all the little freckles across his body. Just like he does to her when he’s on top of her. Sometimes he would just look inside her eyes, capturing the moment they were in inside his brain like a photograph to later be turned into another form of art: his poetry.

She was so deeply in love with him. All the desire they felt for one another ran so much deeper than what she expected. Who knew that the kooky young man walking across the room those months ago, burning inside of her each step he took would have her whole heart at his mercy.

She was hopeless in love. And she loved every second. But now… now was time to make him blush and shiver.

She wanted to watch the way his eyes could turn when he was close to coming but she would not let him feel the relief. Not for a while.

Those months working at the gallery, having friends that were so free when it comes to sexuality and dating someone like Harry was tearing up Lavignia shields and she wanted to try and show it to him, the man who never once judged her, what she was capable of.

In that moment Harry walked out of the bathroom, looking flustered, using only one clear blue boxers. Lavignia could spot the budge he was sporting, his chest slightly red from arousal and his hair slightly damp. He gave her a soft smile walking towards the bed and sitting down.

“Fuck” he hissed

“Did the plug hit a nice spot?” She asked petting his wet curls

“It hit the spot, doll” he said, pulling her to his lap, caressing her side while giving her a small kiss to her temple “shall I turn on the projector?”

Giving him a nod she rested her back on his chest while he raised his arm to the small table next to the bed where the projector rested.

Movie time has begun.

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

The dark skinned woman was fucking the blonde rentlessly on the screen with a big and purple strap on and Lavignia has lost the count of the amount of time Harry has made her come just with his fingers, because, as he said so himself “I won’t be inside of you today so you need to come has many times as I can make you come”.

The first time she came was when the woman and the guy were just dry humping and Harry used his hand to put pressure between her legs and over her panties. The second was when the woman started to slowly use her fingers to ease the man’s hole in preparation for the huge dildo. Harry started to slowly fuck his fingers inside of her while whispering in her ear all the things he wants her to do it on him.

The third time was when the girl had the beautiful man on his fours and she was fucking him with such force that his eyes were turning. And now her body was shaking, completely sweating and anxious to touch him.

“Baby…l she started looking at the projector and noticing that the rolling film was still halfway through “the movie is too long… I need to have you now”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked, always concerned with her wellbeing “I can just fuck you with the plug on”

“No… I wanna make you weak in the knees”

“But you already make me weak in the knees”

“I want to see you in every type of stage of desire. I want to see you in every angle and position, I want to fuck you and be fucked by you till I’m the only thing in your mind and everybody is nothing to compare to me and what I make you feel” in that moment it clicked inside Harry’s brain: she was insecure.

“You know that you already are the best I ever had, right” it was funny because they could be so soft even when there was skin clapping and moans as a background music and Harry had a hard on and a plug deep inside of him “I bared my soul to you and you accepted with everything that was inside of you” he said caressing her face, looking inside her beautiful chocolate orbs “it was delicious to learn you and I love you so much, doll. And haven’t you heard? Sex is good. Fucking is good. Making love is good. But you know what is even better?” She shook her head in a negative and he smirked because this gorgeous venus like woman was all his to love and desire “knowing how to fuck with love, and my honey, we are amazing at it” she pulled him and kissed him deeply.

The best type of kiss, if you asked Harry, was the one that was slightly imperfect and a bit rushed with desire. There was a gorgeous intensity when two people felt such hunger for each other that made them both feel like cats in heat, unleashing the knots of the soul in desire with the want to ravish each other like two animals.

It was a mysterious desire that he loved it so much and he loved that he only learned that when he was with her and that was what his new book was about. That’s why he couldn’t say that right now, that’s why he won’t show her the book till he’s finished. He wants her to find out the intensity and eternity of his feelings for her in each prose and poetry inside the book he was written with his favorite pink pen.

“Can I try and fuck you now, pretty please?” She asked him and how can he say no to the keeper of his heart?

He smiled and nodded

“How do you want me?” He asked

“I want to be able to look at you so take off your underwear and lay down with you back on the mattress” while he was getting ready she walked towards the harness that held the strap he picked: 8 inch and pink with a bit of glitter. She was nervous but so so ready to make him shake. “But first, I thing I want you on your fours” she said while putting the strap on over her barely covered pussy, feeling it thigh over her clit that was swollen from all the fingering Harry managed to give to her.

When she looked at him, he was a vision of duality: tall, muscly, with tattoos and a mustache but in his position that gave away all the control, with the piece of rosé gold coming from the hole between his ass cheeks and his ever shivery body, trying to rotate his hips to relieve his hard cock.

“Baby” she said in a sweet voice while taking the bottle of strawberry lube that was laying on the bed “I’m gonna take this, okay?”

He gave her a nod but Lavignia needed a voice answer. Just like he always did to her.

“I need to hear your voice, baby boy”

“Yes, Lav. I’m okay with it”

Moving behind him she started to twist the plug, feeling it hit against his prostate stimulating him in a way he hasn't felt in so long. Slowly she took the plug out, going for the lube, using two fingers to enter his hole without any hesitation from his warm skin. He was moaning lightly, words of affirmation and little horney thoughts

“You are treating me so so so well” he said, enjoying the feeling of her fingers inside of him. Harry loved this young woman with all of his heart and he desired her with every fiber of his being.

“Im always good to you, my darling” she said, enjoying the way he was responding to her, finally figuring it out why he loved to spoil her sexually: it was divine to know someone was melting because of all the pleasure you were giving.

“Darling, I’m gonna take my finger and get the strap ready, okay?” She said already going for the lube but he stopped her, making Lavignia scarred she had already hurted him “do you want me to play more with your pretty hole?”

“No” he said, turning only his face to look at her, without getting out of his position “ I just…”

“You just…?” She questioned but she saw the beginning of a blush form on his cheeks and she loved it, she was making him blush.

Without saying anything he moved to his knees, right in front of her, pulled her by the ass and capturing the toy with his mouth, making the strap humid with is own spit, moaning against, almost sloppy because of the fever he was feeling for this girl.

Playing the part she decided to stroke his cheeks and pull his hair from his eyes, exactly how he always does when she is the one between his legs. She was loving this dynamic, she could feel her juice melt their way down her tight and the little pression the harness pressed on her clit was making her moan a little, always getting lost in her own pleasure but Lavignia still had a mission: today was his day to melt, today was her day to take care of him.

“Baby” she said pulling his head but he didn’t listen to it, continuing to bob his head down the 8 inch dildo “baby, be good”

He stopped looking at her and whispering a little “sorry”. With her head she pointed towards her bed, making him lay down there.

She slowly walked towards him, enjoying the vision of his dick hard, full and proud against his tummy. With his spread legs she could see all the moisture from the lube.

Now, staying over the bed, she got one of the big pillows, putting behind his back for support, looking at hue eyes for any sign of resistance. She didn’t find any, so, with her hand holding the plastic toy, she started to rub slowly over the hole, watching it sink, letting itself be swallowed by his desire.

“Fuck” he said when she hit just the right place “so good to me, so so good to me” he said while she sank all the way in, then getting out, just to go back inside again.

Slowly to be careful with him but hard enough for him to feel in the morning. She was making him her little plaything, using his body like a map of his pleasure. Knowing what he liked by the little twitch on his dick, if he liked they all she was hitting by the way his breath was completely out of rhythm.

“You’ve got me so worked up” he said going to hold his cock but her hand stopped him “why not?” He said with a frown. He has so much cum in him dying to get out of his body.

“Let me play with you a little bit more” Lavignia said holding his hips and going faster, enjoying the way his skin was, by now, pink with desire and his cock always purple in despair.

“Please, please, please” he said

“Please what?” Lavignia demanded to know

“Let me ride you” and who was she to say no to that. Changing positions she waited for him to climb over her body, getting the fake dick and slowly sinking himself “thank you, thank you” he started to repeat like a prayer.

And she decided to help him in his prayers.

Using her hand she started to pump his hard member, making Harry move his hips out of sync.

“I’m gonna cum” he said and that’s when she attacked, sitting up a little bit and getting his dick in her mouth. She heard him saying something but she couldn’t know why because in that moment he was filling her mouth with the salty liquid she got used to those last few months.

Minutes passed and Harry still had his eyes closed, enjoying the bliss that the orgasm gave him. Slowly opening his arms he got up, helping Lavignia take the harness off and catching the wet spot on her panties.

Laying down on the bed beside her, he looked inside her eyes with a mischievous glint:

“What are you waiting for come and sit on my face?”

I hope you guys liked this little dirty piece <3 You can come to my ask to talk to me about it!

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #70!harry #gucci!h #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #sunlight universe

109 notes · View notes

yutahoes · 4 years ago

Text

Otou-Chan

Yuta Nakamoto x Reader (Y/N) Smut

(Chapter Ten)

Summary: 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐰𝐚 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝.𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚’𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬.

Warning: Filthy Sex(?) , Teasing, Unprotected Sex

Word Count: 2.9k

Masterlist

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

10. Buddy

(Y/N) was surprised to see a black car in front of their home. What is Yuta doing here this early? She knocked on the driver's seat and saw the guy waking up, he slept here? She knocked once again and he opened the window after getting breath mints from his compartment and even brushing his unruly hair. "What are you doing here?" she asked, eyebrow raised in question. Did he stay all night here? "I passed by this morning and decided to check on you," he claimed but she just eyed him curiously. It was the same clothes he wore last night and he had a faint stubble on his chin, he really did sleep here. "Are you wearing a guy's clothes?" he asked then opened the door to fully look at her.

She was wearing Jungwoo's hoodie and sweatpants that she borrowed when she stayed over. Luckily, Lucas was out because of his modeling gig and just got home in the morning when she decided to leave to give the two some privacy. "Do you want to come inside?" she asked and he just gave her an incredulous look. She's really inviting a man to her home after the last night's events? "I think my dad has a shaver and some clothes that you can use," she claimed then opened the door to their tiny home.

Yuta was surprised at the size of their house, it's almost just as big as his office. She showed him the comfort room after taking away some of her things and tidying it up a bit. "Strip," she ordered that made him look at her in question. Did he hear her correctly? She wanted him to take off his clothes? "I have to laundry your clothes." she reasoned out but he's still hesitant that made her chuckle. "It's not like I haven't seen it before." She claimed and he sighed. She is indeed right. With no choice, he started removing his shirt and pants revealing his boxers and a hard-on that made her gulp. Damn it, why is he so turned like this? After last night? Really? (Y/N) handed him a towel and he wrapped it on his waist before removing the boxers and putting it on the soiled clothes. She gestured to the comfort room which he followed.

Damn it, Yuta thought. Why is this girl ordering him around like this? He wanted to punish her for being dominant like this, make her beg while slapping her ass real hard. Make her kneel while begging for his cock to enter her mouth. And choke her while crying for mercy. But the visual is too much for him that he started cumming in the bathroom while holding on to the tiles for support. Damn it, his sexual frustration with this girl is getting out of hand. He wanted her so bad. To his amusement, the said girl knocked on the door. "The shaver and clothes are here, I'll just leave..." but he opened the door, revealing his naked body dripping wet. "Yah!" she shouted. "It's not like you haven't seen it before." he mocked in the same tone she used earlier and she rolled her eyes at that. Oh damn, the things he wanted to do to this brat. But he needed to stop himself, that's different from what he really wanted to do.

The clothes were way bigger than Yuta but it looks good on him. This is unfair, (Y/N) thought. How can she stop herself with the indecent thoughts when he's this damn fine? "Have you eaten breakfast?" he asked as he watched her tie her hair in a ponytail. She's already changed in jeans and a white shirt that made him lick his lip, why do those clothes hug her curves well? "Have you?" she asked while looking at him and he honestly gasped at how ethereal she looked. Why is she so pretty like this? The guy only shook his head as an answer and she smiled at him, "Let's have breakfast first. I'll treat you."

Although Yuta disliked the idea, spending time with her is his priority now even if it meant getting treated by this girl to breakfast. He was about to head to his car when she just glared at him, claiming that they can just walk to the restaurant. Again, he was surprised that she brought him to a small restaurant that sells stew in the morning. The older woman smiled when the girl entered then frowned at him that made him nervous. "Ahjumma, I'll have the haejang-guk." (Y/N) claimed that made the older woman shook her head while asking, "Were you drunk again? You're getting worse than your dad." And she just giggled which made the guy surprised at how carefree she's being. "How about you?" the older asked in a stern voice and he answered that he'll have the same as hers in a small voice.

When the older left, (Y/N) took something from her pocket then handed it to Yuta, his black card. "I'm sorry about everything but I promise to pay everything that my dad and I took from your card," she claimed but he shook his head, looking at the card. "It may be a small amount to you but I can't bear owing something to anyone..." she claimed and in a small voice continued, "And I don't want to take advantage of you."

"Use me. Spend my money. I don't really care." he claimed then held her hand that was above the table. The surprise was too much for (Y/N) to retract her hand, what is he even saying? "I'm having withdrawal symptoms." he started. "I can't sleep. I don't eat right. Even my secretary tells me that I'm doing a terrible job in the office. And it's all because of you." his thumb caressed the back of her hand while staring straight at her. "You're making me crazy, (Y/N)." That snapped her back to her thoughts and pulled away from her hand as if it is on fire.

"Do you do this to all the girls you met?" she asked that made him shook his head. "Yuta, there must be a catch. How can someone as successful as you be crazy because of a girl like me?" she asked in disbelief making him sigh.

Yuta sighed heavily and was thankful when their orders came and she was a little bit distracted. Maybe he's really hungry that he decided to take some of the soup first. He was honestly surprised at how rich the taste is, the meat is so tender and the soup is so rich. "This is really delicious." he suddenly muttered in Japanese that made her raise her eyebrow at him. Why does he sound so hot speaking in Japanese? Damn, why is she so sexually frustrated over this man? Maybe that's it. He's sexually frustrated and here she is, giving him what he wanted from the start. But why her?

"Yuta, do you want to have sex with me?" she asked straightforwardly that made him choke on the soup. How can she say that so easily? And here he is, trying to stop his arousal. The question was obviously heard by the couple next table that they started snickering to each other. "I have time to spare. We can have a quickie..."

"I don't do quickies," he claimed almost defensive while slamming the table that made the other customers look at him in surprise. "I..." he muttered while pushing his hair back, obviously frustrated at the girl. Well, (Y/N) thought, he is hot like this. It would be a real turn on to piss him off like this. "Please don't do this to me, (Y/N)." he pleaded.

(Y/N) smirked as an answer, "Anything you say, Mr. Nakamoto, sir." she emphasized the last word that made his eyes darken in lust. Fuck, Yuta thought, she's one hell of a frustrating girl. But that only made him want her more. And can he emphasize how he wanted to hear her say sir once again? While pleading with that pretty eyes, kneeling in front of him, begging him to take her. Fuck, he can't be thinking of that now.

After breakfast, they went back to her house since his car is there, and honestly, he can't really walk properly with the raging boner in his pants. (Y/N), on the other hand, felt really sticky to the core that her underwear was really soaked. She can't really go to work like this, right? And judging by the arousal in his pants, he can't really stay away from that as well.

It's been so long, she missed a cock inside her. The last time she had sex was with this same person in Paris so when she pushed him inside, (Y/N) knew that she isn't making the same mistakes she did anymore. Yuta moaned in the kiss, groaning when her hand touched his rock hard bulge. "Fuck, I miss you." he whispered against her lips and she smiled, "Then don't hold back."

His shirt was easily thrown to the ground as their lips didn't even let go of each other until her back was against the wall. He raised both her arms, his own hand traveling inside her shirt which he successfully discarded from her. His kisses went to her neck as he undid the hooks of her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Yuta's fingers tweaked her nipples that made her moan.

This isn't fair, (Y/N) thought, he's giving her so much pleasure yet he had only discarded his shirt. She started undoing his pants, letting them fall on the ground. Yuta moaned against her shoulder when her cold fingers came in contact with his twitching cock. He seemed bigger than the last time they had sex if that's possible. "Fuck, baby," he called and she just bit her lip. Why does it sound so good, so erotic even, coming from him? "I'll cum if you keep doing that." But (Y/N) didn't stop jerking his cock with her small hands and even scattering the precum on the tip of his cock.

"I thought you're not into quickies," she claimed, challenge present in her voice. She raised her eyebrow as he squinted his eyes at her. If there is one thing Yuta hates, that would be losing and since this girl is challenging him, why not give her what she wants? He turned her around that made the girl scream, removing her pants and entering a finger in her wet core. "Is that a challenge baby girl?" he asked against her ear, licking her lobe. (Y/N) had to hold on to the wall at the sudden aggressiveness, her ass pushed forward and she could feel Yuta's cock rubbing on her ass. "Do you want me to ruin you?" he asked that made her moan. Yuta slapped her pussy that made her scream. Fuck, he's so sadistic and dominant. "Answer me."

"Yes Yuta, ruin me." And she hated how desperate she sounded against her ear. Another slap on her pussy and she screamed. "Yes sir. Ruin me." But it isn't enough for Yuta's ears. There's a word that he's been yearning to hear and after two slaps, he finally heard it desperately called by her "Daddy!". He entered her in such a force that she almost bumped her head on the wall. "Yes baby, let daddy ruin you," he claimed as he kept thrusting inside her.

(Y/N)'s breasts were squished against the wall as he kept on pounding into her from behind. "I'm close, fuck." But he kept his pace until the orgasm hit on her. Yuta is so good, damn it. He pulled out but he's still hard that made her glare at him, he's really going to ruin her today. Another round on the couch and (Y/N) knew that she's going to be a slave for this man's cock. He kept on hitting her deliciously, in that area that brings her too much pleasure. After two more orgasms, she was more than amazed to see how hard Yuta is still. "I have to say, that's quite a stamina," she claimed and he just smiled as an answer, helping her with her clothes. She's already late for work and the soreness of her vagina isn't helping at all. "Let me help you with that."

Her mouth is too hot for him. That or he's just really anticipating his orgasm. He had been holding off for too long just to show this girl how much he can fuck her and honestly, he did prove his point. But now, he's at his own breaking point. When she started deep throating him, he moaned and grabbed her hair to fuck her mouth. Damn, she's so good with her tongue that when he came, she just swallowed everything. Yuta wiped the drool from her mouth, looking at her as if he had done a wonderful job. "What an obedient slut." he mumbled and she moaned, rubbing herself against the couch. Why does she like it so much?

"Then let's do this, Yuta," she suggested that made him sit on the couch next to her. "Make me your whore, that way I can pay you the money that I took from you." Yuta was about to revolt, that's not what he wanted from her. "This will be a win-win for us. Use me if you need me and I'll call you if I need inspiration from my work." she reasoned out. "Please, this is the only way that will work for me to repay you."

The guy sighed as he watched her bite her lip in contemplation. Damn, even that small gesture is turning him on. "If I say no, will I ever see you again?" The girl shook her head, claiming that she'll highly doubt that. "Then I really should say yes," he claimed.

"Great!" (Y/N) exclaimed as she stood up from the couch. "I have to go to work and..." she suddenly winced in pain that made him look at her in worry. "Don't worry, you just ruined me that's all," she claimed casually and he raised an eyebrow. True enough, she kept on whimpering while walking that made him so amused. She's already this sore from that simple sex? She really needs to get dicked down often.

The guy quickly scooped her up, making her revolt. "I'll drive you to work," he suggested as he took her to his car. He put the seatbelt on her, licking his lips as the belt emphasized her breasts. (Y/N) had to giggle at that, now he's turned on again. Really though, he's such a sperm bank. How many times does he cum in a day? If they really continue with this set-up, she'll surely get sore each day. A whore for him. Is this a good decision or something that she might regret in the long run? "Do you want to eat first or something?" he asked as he swerved across the streets coolly.

The girl shook her head although he can't see her. "I'm really late. Johnny is going to kill me," she exclaimed and he just accelerated the car. Yuta hated the idea that he had to rush getting her to work when he literally wanted to spend time with her. When he stopped by their small publishing house, he held on to (Y/N)'s arm before she could get out of the car. "Can we have dinner later?" he asked and she gave him a curious look.

"Yuta, we agreed to be fuck buddies. Not someone in a relationship," she claimed that made his face fell that instant. Of course, but can't they have dinner? Do they really need to have sex just to meet or see each other? But Yuta knew that there's a way to everything, he's a businessman isn't he? "Then let's discuss some ground rules about this..." he trailed off then glanced at the two of them. "Set-up." The girl only arched her eyebrow and that looked really hot in Yuta's eyes. "So I'll pick you up after work, seven?"

(Y/N) had to smile at that, he's really amusing. "Six." she corrected and he nodded before she went out of his car. Well, Yuta is really charming and he gave her a really good fuck that both Jungwoo and Ten were eyeing her with a knowing smile when she went inside the door. "Wild night?" Ten asked but the girl gave a sly smile while answering, "Wild morning."

Jungwoo was quick to hug her that made her wince. Fuck it, even her body is aching right now. "I'm sorry." he quickly apologized but she smiled wryly. "You got dicked down after Paris, I'm so happy for you." he sincerely claimed but the girl just stared at him. Maybe they were friends for so long that he already understood what she meant by that look. "Paris guy? That Japanese guy?" he asked in surprise that made her nod. Ten only nodded, "Small world. Maybe you're really meant to be." (Y/N) shrugged, maybe they really are.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

I'm sorry for the lame sexual scene. 🤦 Kill me now.

Chapter 9 / Chapter 11

#SMUT #yutasmut #yutanakamotosmut #Yuta #nctsmut #yutanakamoto #yuta smut #yuta nakamoto smut #nct smut

106 notes · View notes

vibing-and-writing · 4 years ago

Text

Suavemente

A/N: hello beautiful ppl!! i hope you’re all doing well!! here is my submission for the #marveldiversitychallenge hosted by @allaboardthereadingrailroad. i know i’m a couple days late but school has been really annoying ;-; i hope you enjoy and as always feedback is greatly appreciated!! edit: i forgot to mention my prompt was “Are you stupid or stupid?” which I put in bold. thanks sm

Summary: When Tony organizes a team-building exercise at a Salsa studio, Steve doesn’t know what to expect. Shenanigans ensue.

Latin!Reader X Steve Rogers

It had been an established tradition that once a month, everyone who was free that called themselves an Avenger had to participate in what Tony had dubbed “team-building activities.” Steve thought these were fun, like the time they played laser tag or when they went to that pottery place and the team made mugs. These team activities were always the time where they could relax and do something fun, ignore the weight on their shoulders. A time to spend time together without bad guys around every corner. So when Tony walked into the boardroom, he wasn’t too worried.

The meeting starts off like any other, updates on other regions, a call to the Guardians, the usual. Near the end of the meeting, Tony stands confidently in front of the projector after a pause. “Set the mood FRIDAY,” he says, his face conniving and too cheerful. Very loudly, FRIDAY plays a Spanish song, one he’s definitely heard but doesn’t know the words to.

Suavemente, bésame!

Te quiero sentir tus labios,

Besándome otra vez.

Steve’s eyes widen a bit, his mind running through the different activities. Glancing around him, Steve looks at the team’s various reactions. Bucky seems a bit taken aback but not surprised, Nat looks like she knows where this is headed, and Sam is already dancing in his chair. Vaguely shimmying to the beat of the song, a mischievous smile pulls on Tony’s lips as he raises his voice over the music. “We’re going to a Salsa class. Spiderboy, Wanda, Pepper, and Vision are going too. You can thank Sam for the idea. Be ready by 1:30, I booked an hour and a half” Before anyone can say anything, Tony shimmies his way out of the room, the music fading with him. Sam looks around the table excitedly, hopeful his friends like his idea. His eyes practically glow with happiness. “Make sure to wear workout clothes, y’all. Y/Ns gonna make you work,” Sam says, his voice almost mischievous. Steve lets out a defeated sigh, accepting his fate of stepping on many toes and struggling to keep up. Thinking back, Steve was never the dancer, and even less now with the change of music over the decades he’d been in the ice. But he’d be damned if he didn’t try, especially if Sam was gonna be watching, poking fun at him the whole way through. Bucky gives a nod, a small smile on his lips. “So this is where you spend your days off,” Bucky says like he should’ve seen this coming. Sam gives him a smirk as he gets up and grabs his jacket. “How do you think I got these thighs,” Sam replies, gesturing towards said thighs, barely contained by his jeans. Steve lets out a chuckle, chancing a look at Natasha. Grabbing her laptop, her smile is warm but challenging. “I’m gonna dance you into the floor Wilson,” she says, confident in her dance experience. Sam lets out a laugh, his tone just as confident and challenging, “Are you stupid or stupid? I’d like to see you try.” With that, they leave the boardroom together, the faint sound of Spanish music filling the Tower until they all pile into a car and drive to the dance studio.

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

Getting out of the car, Steve can still hear Bucky and Sam bickering, though the parking lot seems deserted save for a few cars. Steve doesn’t know what to expect. Especially since he’s never been a dancer, and knows less about Latin culture, something he only got educated on when he was in the 21st century. As someone who was always in control, this was very new. But nonetheless, he walked into the studio behind Sam, Bucky, and Tony with Pepper on his arm, with Peter, Nat, Wanda, and Vision trailing behind. The first thing that catches his eyes is the glass case full to the brim with different trophies and medals. The studio’s walls were floor to ceiling mirrors and a front desk area near the entrance, with a door that led to what Steve assumed was a locker room. “Y/N, your favorite Avenger is here!” Sam called into the empty studio. The locker room door opens, and Steve couldn’t stop his blush from spreading if he tried. The woman, who he guesses is Y/N, walks out confidently, her arms outstretched to hug Sam. She is stunning, to say the least, her brown skin glowing under the studio’s lights. Her hair is in a slicked-back puff, donned in a simple muscle tank and leggings. And she’s wearing red lipstick. “It’s always the lipstick,” Steve can hear Bucky teasing in his head. “Just because you’re my student doesn’t mean you’re my favorite Sam,” she replies, her voice teasing but fond. Steve feels Bucky nudge him with his arm, breaking him out of his obvious ogling. Releasing from the hug, Y/N turns to the rest of the group. “I’m Y/N, incase Sam didn’t give it away, and I’ll be your instructor today.” Steve feels his heart skip a couple of beats at the prospect of getting to stare at you for the next hour, though his pathetic dance skills will probably kill any chance he has with you. Steeping on someone’s toes wasn’t the best way to make a first impression. In a fight, Steve was light on his feet and agile, but fighting was very different from dancing. Plus his experience with women isn’t exactly the best and he would probably break one of your toes before getting your number- He suddenly felt all eyes on him and a long silence. Blinking, Steve notices you looking at him, your hand outstretched. If Steve wasn’t blushing before, he definitely was now as he stuttered. “I- I’m sorry what did you say?”

Looking at him consideringly, you awkwardly retract your hand. “I was asking if you wanted to be my partner for this class.” Steve can hear Natasha and Bucky holding back their laughter behind him, and Sam just looks as smug as ever. “Oh, I don’t think I’d be a very good partner. I’m probably the worst dancer here.” Steve replies, laughing nervously and rubbing his neck with his hand. Your face lights up in understanding before walking closer to him. You grab his hand and usher him closer to the front of the studio near a laptop and speaker set up. “Which is exactly why you should be paired with me, Captain Rogers. You’ll learn better if you’re with me. Plus, I’m used to students stepping on my toes.” Your voice is resolute as you hold him by the hand, grouping up the other team members as you fiddle with the music. Steve can’t help but feel like this is set up as he looks between your hand grasping his and his teammates, all looking various stages of smug or suggestive except Peter, who just looks happy to be there, and Vision, who is just staring at Wanda. Grouped in partners, Natasha is with Peter, who actually has experience with salsa he found out, Sam is with Bucky, both noticeably not looking at each other, Tony with Pepper and Vision with Wanda.

Looking at the other groups, you start to explain the starting position and the basics of salsa without the music. “Normally, the taller of the pair will lead with their right and the shorter will lead with their left.” You seem to think for a moment before you continue your explanation. “While salsa is meant to be danced in pairs, the lead is the one who guides the dance.” Gently grabbing Steve, you place your left hand on his shoulder and hold his hand with your right. Before Steve can form a thought, you start to slightly move him by the shoulder, using your weight to push him. “When you lead it is very important to use your body weight. Even a dancer with no experience can dance well if they have a good lead.” Most of the group is either trying to hold back their imminent laughter or they’re too busy trying to ask questions so you continue to use Steve as a test subject. You either don’t notice or ignore them as you run over to the speaker, start the music, and go back to Steve. “Can I do a quick demonstration?” you ask him, and it was really unfair because there was no way Steve could say no. Steve nods slightly, and before he can blink you shoot off like a rocket. You push him into a spin to the right, a turn to the left, another spin, and Steve can only see vague flashes of movement as you move around him fluidly. You almost leave him dizzy, until you finish, letting him fall gently into a dip. Steve opens his eyes, not realizing he closed them, and is greeted by your face inches away from his. His face erupts in a blush as you stare at each other, your breath only slightly labored. He can vaguely hear applause and Sam complaining about not getting to dance with you before you let him stand upright. You let out a small laugh before looking back at Steve. “I hope that wasn’t too bad Captian,” you say, your hands fidgeting with your muscle tank. Steve can only open and close his mouth repeatedly before just replying, “Wow.” The team and you laugh a bit and his blush continues to spread down his neck. “Well, we won’t be doing too many spins today, but I hope that was fun for you.” Steve laughs lightly, his hand coming behind his neck. “Well I- it was a lot of fun. Felt like a rollercoaster.” Your smile widens as your laugh rings through the studio, and Steve tries not to think how nice it sounds before you turn to the rest of the team.

You seem to get back into a professional element, letting go of Steve’s hand to help out the other pairs, especially Buck and Sam as they bicker over who should lead. Coming back to the front of the studio you grab Steve’s hands and get into the starting position. Reaching behind you, the music streams from the speakers. Leaning into Steve, you talk to him over the music. “I’ll lead for now Captain Rogers,” you say, your voice almost teasing. Steve can only nod jarringly, before replying shortly, “Steve is fine.” You nod in acknowledgment before addressing the rest of the pairs. “We’re going to start by doing the basic salsa step, just forward and back,” you say as you demonstrate. Steve stands trying to follow your instruction, his hand clammy against yours. Everyone nods before you start counting the beats and doing the basic step.

The rest of the class goes on without incident, and Steve is proud to say he only stepped on your toes twice. The team seemed happy as well, the couples very comfortable with dancing and lots of laughter coming from Pepper on Tony’s behalf. The rivalry between Nat and Sam got squashed very quickly because Sam was too busy bickering with Bucky, and Nat was trying to make sure her and Peter’s hands wouldn’t stick together. Wanda and Vision seemed the most peaceful, though it seemed they were staring at each other more than actually paying attention. Bucky and Nat kept sneaking teasing glances at him, especially if you used him as another demonstration, your hands landing on his waist or vice versa. By the end of the class, the team was tired but pleased. Everyone was joking around and laughing, so much so that Steve could almost ignore the blush that had coated his cheeks for the past hour and a half. Saying their goodbyes, Steve went to give you a handshake, but you held his hand for a moment. Your eyes lock for a moment before you look back at your intertwined hands and take a deep breath. “I don’t want to be too forward, since we just met and all, but I was wondering if you’d want to go out sometime? Not dancing but maybe dinner-?”

“Yes,” Steve interrupts. You both let out surprised laughs, Steve’s free hand going to rub his neck, a nervous tick you’ve noticed. Both of you are thoroughly flustered and whipped for each other already, Steve found it hard to imagine how he could’ve said no. You let go of his hand, happily running towards the front desk to grab a pen and piece of paper to jot down your number. As you write down your number, you hear a thump against the window of the door of the studio. There stand, very squished together, Sam, Bucky, and Natasha, looking very pleased. Out of your peripheral, you can see Steve trying to shoo them away. “I’m sorry about them,” he says, his voice only half upset. You smile at him and gesture back at the trio. “I’ll have to get used to that if I want to keep you, right?” Steve laughs, his smile lighting up the studio. “Yeah, but I’ll get them to leave us alone somehow.” You nod in affirmation, the trio finally trickling away from the door as they notice their position has been compromised. Handing the paper to Steve, you lead him out of the door, the afternoon light making your skin glow.

“I’ll talk to you soon Captain,” you say, leaning in to give Steve a kiss on the cheek before closing the studio door. Steve might’ve convinced himself the kiss happened, except for the red lipstick stain on his cheek and the hollering of his friends a few feet away from him. As Steve walked away, his friends trailing behind, he knew he had a great feeling about you, and he couldn’t wait to find out more.

#marveldiversitychallenge #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #avengers imagine #x reader #avengers x reader #avenger x reader #latin reader #captain america #captian america x reader #steve rogers fluff #marvel fluff #Avengers #avenger fluff #fanfic #idk what else to tag

85 notes · View notes

carminecalico · 4 years ago

Text

Eren X Armin “Fuck Away the Pain” Chapter 1

“Two Worlds Collide”

The backstory: Armin is a freshman in college studying oceanography while his best friend Mikasa works at a local bar as a bartender. Her bar frequently showcases small time bands. One night a band called "Warriors” who plays there frequently is scheduled to perform. Mikasa is determined to get Armin to come watch.

This chapter uses the song “Fuck Away the Pain” by Divide the Day

“No Mikasa, I've told you a hundred times now I HAVE to finish my thesis on the Upper Ocean and Submesoscale Processes by Tuesday." Armin huffed as he hoisted his forest green messenger bag onto his shoulder, the weight of it almost making him lose his balance. "Besides when have I ever been into bands? I like my indie singer/songwriters."

"Armin just once would you trust me? I think you'll really like these guys, they play there all the time! Plus the lead singer is a total smoke show but he doesn't seem interested in girls." Mikasa wiggled her eyebrows at Armin. She got up off the couch in their shared apartment and blocked Armin's route to the door. Armin rolled his eyes at her antics and tried to walk around her but she got in his way again. "Armin... It's been five months since Jean left-“

“Yeah, I know Mikasa since he left to be with Marco. Thanks for the reminder." Armin deadpanned. Armin gently pushes her out of his way and makes his way to the door "If I go tonight will you drop it?" He looks over his shoulder as she nods making him groan. "Ugh, fine I'll go, but I'm drinking on your tab." He smirks softly before heading to his first class. On his way, he bumps into Historia and they start talking. Eventually, Armin asked her what to wear for the bar show and made plans to go together.

~~~~

Reiner kicks the door in and plops down on the couch. He lets out a sigh props his feet on the coffee table. "Reiner this is why our landlord hates us. You're always so violent towards our apartment." Eren groans as he kicks Reiner’s legs pushing his feet off the table. "You're gonna get us kicked out." Eren walks over to the fridge and pulls out the few stray beer cans left in the fridge. Ymir and Bertholdt walk in the door quickly catching the cans tossed to them by Eren. All of them kick back on the couches in Reiner and Eren's living room. "All right let's pick out our set list for the show tonight then get ready.”

Reiner and Bertholdt are in the living room in their black jeans and band shirts. Ymir is sitting on the bathroom sink with Eren in between her legs while she does his eyeliner. “You know I'm pretty glad you finally ditched that Levi creep you were seeing." She chuckled as Eren just rolled his eyes. "What? He was hella weird, you can do better."

Eren smiled softly, "Thanks Ymir, I know you mean well. You know I wasn't with him for his personality. Just the eleven inches down under." Eren smirks slightly before he and Ymir start laughing together as they finish getting ready. Ymir walks out in faded black jeans and a white t-shirt with some obscure reference no one ever understands. She takes Reiner’s beer and finishes it before slamming it on the table.

"Eren would you hurry up? You know they hate it when we're late!" Bertholdt shouts as he starts gathering up all the trash to throw it out. Reiner and Ymir are bickering in the living room as always.

"Chill out I just finished." Eren walks out in a black mesh crop top and ripped black skinny jeans that look painted on. Top it all off with his signature knee-high combat boots. "How do I look, guys? I think this is my favorite look." Eren does a full turn and all four chuckle together before all heading out to their show.

~~~~

Historia is currently rummaging through Armin's closet to find a suitable outfit. "Armin we really need to talk about this goody-two-shoes wardrobe. I'm never go- Armin!" Historia pulls out a black satin button up and looks at it in awe. "Go put this on right now.

Armin comes back in the shirt as requested while pulling his hair up into a messy and fluffy man bun. "Does this look okay?" Historia hums to herself as she walks over to Armin and undoes some of the top buttons. "Okay, so maybe my black jeans and my boots?' Historia nods and they finish getting ready. They link arms as they leave Armin's apartment.

They walk into the bar to see a blonde man on drums, a girl on bass, and another guy with dark hair on guitar. Historia and Armin walk over to Mikasa's part of the bar. Mikasa smiles at the sight of her friends. "Hi guys!" She walks over before quickly mixing their usuals. They sit at the bar making small talk when a deep voice calls out from next to Armin. Armin turns to see a breathtaking dark-haired boy with emerald eyes.

"Oh hey Eren you want your usual as always?" 'Eren' nods before leaning his forearm on the bar. He turns and sees Armin staring with wide eyes. He smirks at Armin before turning his body to Armin and leans in slightly. Armin watches as Eren's eyes perform a full-body scan.

"I don't think I've ever seen you here before." Eren’s amused eyes meet Armin's bashful eyes. "What's your name?" He takes a step closer to Armin marking Eren's height over Armin apparent. He looks away only to take his drink and raise it in thanks to Mikasa before turning all his attention back to Armin. "My name's Erens I'm the singer for the band that's about to play. You should sit near the stage for me." He winks before the smirk settles back onto his lips.

Armin's face is a pretty shade of pink as he sips his drink, "My name's Armin, I go to Rose college." He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Why do you want me to sit close?" He chews on his lower lip, a nervous habit that developed from his years with Jean. Eren hums softly as he raises his hand to Armin's face. Eren runs his thumb against Armin's lower lip before gently tugging it from between his teeth. Armin feels his heart pounding in his chest.

Eren leans in next to Armin's ear before whispering, "Because I asked nicely, usually I don't." He sighs softly before pulling away from his ear but kept his body close, "Please. I'd like it. A lot." At some point, Mikasa and Historia escaped to a different part of the bar leaving Armin alone with Eren. Armin nods making Eren's cheeky smirk make its way back to his lips. "Good. So tell me something, about you.”

"Uh-oh like what?" Armin asked, by this point Armin found himself leaning in closer to Eren. They were only inches apart and Armin silently hoped his heartbeat while erratic was at least quiet. Armin finished his drink even with the emerald eyes staring right into his soul.

"Like if you have a partner I should be worried about, what your major is, how many times a day you hear your eyes are like sapphires. Stuff like that." Eren brought his free hand to Armin's waist before closing the last bit of space. Armin immediately looked down to hide his blush. “Oh, c'mon don't do that.” Eren stopped leaning against the bar to gently grab Armin's chin and tilt his face back up. ”Don't hide from me.”

"No, there's no partner.... They left months ago for someone new. As for my major, its oceanography, I'm working on my first junior thesis right now." Armin smiled at Eren gently. "Oh and uhm.. No one said that to me before." Armin saw Eren's face twisted up in confusion. "What's that look for Eren?" Armin leaned in out of curiosity

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad there's no boyfriend to worry about, but I don't get how.” Eren removes his hand from Armin's chin to rub the back of his own neck awkwardly. "Can't imagine he thinks the new guys so much better. But uh.. No one's told you that about your eyes? Really? They were the first thing that caught my attention."

"Eren!” Eren turned towards the voice “Time to get warmed up, we're starting soon." Bertholdt called from the side of the stage.

Eren sighs before turning back to Armin. He chuckles seeing Armin's face get redder than before. "Looks like I gotta go for now, but I'll find you after the show and we can pick this back up. Okay?" Eren grabs Armin's hand and brings it to his lips gently. He winks at Armin before walking over to his band and Reiner immediately puts him in a headlock while Ymir and Bertholdt laugh.

"Of course the first show you cone to the lead singer is into you." Mikasa Shakes her head amused. "You do know EVERY girl is jealous of you now right? He's been every girl's dream since they started playing here." Mikasa makes Armin another drink with a smirk. "I told you so by the way."

Historia comes back and grabs Armin's hands. "OMG! Tell me everything." She looks at him with sparkly eyes. Mikasa leans on the bar to listen in. "You never go out but the hottest guy ever just hit on you, that's so unfair." She smiles widely at Armin just happy for him.

"Can I tell you guys later? I kinda promised I'd sit near the stage...." Armin blushes red but has a faint smile across his lips. Historia drags Armin to an empty table in clear view of the lead singer and sits with him.

~~~

"Reiner let go! C'mon it's embarrassing." Eren whined while still stuck in Reiners death grip. “Ymir! Bertholdt! You're just gonna let him suffocate me like this?" Eren kept struggling to get out of Reiners headlock to no success.

"First, who's that boy you were talking to? He doesn't look like your usual type." Ymir kneeled in front of Eren. "I knew you were over Levi but man you move quick." She teased before tapping Reiner’s arm telling him to let go. Reiner quickly lets go causing Eren to stumble slightly. Reiner chuckled as he made his way to the drum set.

"For the last time Ymir I only dated Levi because he was packing. And he bought me stuff." Eren sighed as he grabbed his mic and wrapped the chord around his hand holding the mic. "I know he's not my usual type but his eyes were mesmerizing. They're like sapphires." Ymir notices the dreamy far off look in Eren's eyes. He shakes his head before walking to his spot at center stage and smiles seeing Armin so close to the stage. "Let's do this." He turns to the crowd and beams. "We are The Warriors!"

Armin watches as Eren takes center stage the lights making him look like some kind of fallen angel. The guitar echoes for a bit before the bass and drums join. Armin's eyes go wide as Eren makes direct eye contact with him before winking and plastering his signature smirk on as he starts singing.

“You think your life is done he took it all with him.” Eren tilts his head back as he continues “So you drink enough for it to wash away the sin” He leans forward as he brings his head back to a normal upright position. He looks directly at Armin while singing. “Such a shitty thing he did, the way he said goodbye. You can take it out on me if you like." He winks before falling to his knees. "Fuck away the pain, erase him from your brain. Fake it like you love me, Come on baby touch me.”

His free hand grabs his throat briefly before he drags it down his body in time with his body roll. “Show me where it hurts this dirty little curse. Don't have to be ashamed if you wanna scream my name. While I fuck away the pain." Eren brings his hand up to the back of his head while getting up on one knee.

“You hate the way he fooled around behind your back. A slave to him but now with me no strings attached." He fully stands up and walks to Armin making direct eye contact again. “But if you wanna use me up and leave me in the bed. If thats what you need go right ahead.” When he gets to Armin he turns so his backs facing him, and he leans back resting his head on Armin's chest tilting his head up to look at him. “Fuck away the pain, erase him from your brain. Fake it like you love me, Come on baby touch me.” He grabs Armin's hand and places it at the base of his neck, with a massive smirk on his face.

* side note * Armin is very much a good boy so he never really went to parties or even drank much so his tolerance is pretty low. Mikasa also only knows how to make strong drinks and Armin is on his third sooooo... He's pretty tipsy. * continuing *

Through the song Armin's mouth hung open slightly in awe. He bit down on his lower lip when Eren's head rested against his chest. He looked down at Eren and his heart skipped a beat seeing this fallen angel close up. Suddenly the liquid courage he's been drinking hit him when his hand was placed near Eren's neck. His inhibitions out the window, he moved his hand to be gently wrapped around Eren's throat. Eren raised an eyebrow up in shock and amusement. Eren turns his body so he's facing Armin, his face inches away from Armin's. Armin looks up at him and unconsciously pulls him closer by the back of his neck.

“Show me where it hurts this dirty little curse. Don't have to be ashamed if you wanna scream my name. While I fuck away the pain.” Eren rests his forehead on Armin's smirking at him “Stronger then a shot of whiskey or any pill you take." Eren closes his eyes as his free hand finds Armin's waist and grabs it roughly. “Fuck away the pain, erase him from your brain. Fake it like you love me, Come on baby touch me. Show me where it hurts this dirty little curse. Don't have to be ashamed if you wanna scream my name While I fuck away the pain.”

Eren slowly pulls away from Armin and saunters back to the stage to finish the song.“Erase him from your brain, fake it like you love me, come on baby touch me.” He turns back to the crowd as he drags his hand down his chest in time with a full-body roll. “Show me where it hurts this dirty little curse. Don't have to be ashamed if you wanna scream my name. While I fuck away the pain, fuck away the pain. While I fuck away the pain”

The song finishes and loud applause follows. The bands all shaking their heads at Eren and hear a faint "show off" covered poorly by a cough from Reiner. Eren brings his free hand behind his back and flips Reiner off. They continue playing their other songs and it’s time for the band to take a break. The band huddle up on the stage talking quietly, so Armin and Historia go outside with Mikasa in tow.

Armin immediately starts telling them the whole story with red cheeks from either blushing or the booze. "What the hell is in those drinks Mikasa? I'm not that bold!"She shrugs and chuckles. Armin leans on the railing getting lost in thought. 'Did I really just do that? I've never been bold like that. Not even with Jean and I was with him for years.' Armin was so wrapped up in his thoughts he didn't notice his friends go inside. He also didn't notice who joined him outside.

~~~~

The moment the band figured out their set Eren went looking for Armin. He walked to the bathroom with no luck so he went to the bar thinking he was getting a new drink. “It's Mikasa right?" Mikasa looked up and nods. “Do you know where Armin is? You're friend's right?"

“He got lost in his thoughts on the deck, Historia was with him but it looks like your bassist caught her attention.” Mikasa turned to look outside. "Why is Jean here?"

Eren froze as he remembered something. ‘No, there's no partner.... They left months ago for someone new.’ His eyes widen, "No..."

~~~

"So you get cool after we break up? I used to beg you to come to shows." Jean stared in disbelief. "And since when do you act so daring? We only broke up a few months ago what happened?"

Armin took a deep breath before turning his head and glaring at Jean. "Yes, thank you Jean I totally forgot how long ago we broke up. Like it didn't hurt like Hell for three months. But I don't owe you any kind of explanation. You left, not me." Armin saw Eren behind Jean and their eyes locked. Eren winked trying to say he'd follow Armin's lead. "So if you don't mind Jean, I have a lead singer to get back to."

Eren smirked shaking his head as he walks over to Armin. He pressed himself against Armin's back placing his hands on the railing. "Why'd you run off at the break baby? I was looking for you." Eren nuzzled his face into Armin's hair his lips brushing against Armin's ear. He shifts his eyes to Jean menacingly. "I'm pretty sure he said to get lost horse face. So unless you want me to beat into you, I'd get moving." A low growl emits from Eren and Jean backs up slowly before retreating into the bar. Eren leans down closer to Armin's face as he wraps one of his hands around Armin's. "You okay Armin?"

Armin lets out an uneasy breath and nods. "Thanks for that. How'd you figure it out?" Armin leaned back into Eren finding his touch strangely comforting. He rested his head against Eren's as his breathing started to return to normal. "Also were you really looking for me? Or did you just say it to bug Jean?"

Eren scoffs and grabs Armin’s waist turning him so they're face to face. "Of course I was looking for you. Did you forget I said we could pick this up after? I still wanted to see you on my breaks. 'Cause I don't think I can wait to do this anymore, especially after our little performance earlier."

Armin looked up at him confused but before he could even ask him anything, Eren pressed his lips against Armin's gently. Eren wrapped his arms around his waist while pinning Armin between his body and the railing. Armin signed into the kiss before wrapping his arms around Eren's neck. Before long Armin felt a tongue prod at his lips. He parted his lips, letting Eren in to explore in his mouth before feeling a cold metal run against his tongue and he pulls back. “What the hell was that?" Armin asked breathlessly.

Eren looks down at Armin, his breathing heavy and uneven. "What are you- Oh.." Eren chuckles lightly before smiling at Armin. "I'm sorry, should I have warned you about this?" He pokes his tongue out just enough to show off his tongue piercing that's adorned with a sapphire. He watches as Armin's face gets red and brings a hand up to his cheek. Running his thumb against Armin's cheekbone Eren leans in close. "Let me kiss you again...."

Armin just nods and in an instant, Eren's got his lips against Armin's. 'This feels rougher than the first time.' Armin thinks to himself while tangling his hand in Eren’s hair. Armin pulls Eren closer and hums into the kiss before parting his lips. Eren immediately pushed his tongue into Armin's mouth and runs his tongue against Armin's. He smirks against Armin's lips before pulling away and resting his forehead on Armin’s. "Damn blondie..." Eren chuckled as he bumped Armin's nose with his own. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

Armin sighs and giggles lightly before moving his head to hide his face in Eren's neck. “Nothing you'd find interesting I'm sure. I was supposed to work on my semester thesis but Mikasa talked me into coming out tonight." Armin nuzzles himself closer to Eren. " I'll probably just spend the day in the library working on it. Why?"

"’Cause I wanted to take you out but you just reminded me my semester thesis is due soon too. Hey, why don't we go to the library together? We can go grab lunch together at some point." Eren rubs little circles in Armin's hip with his thumb that snuck under Armin's shirt somehow. He smiles as he feels Armin nod against him.

"Eren! We got more sets to play c'mon!" Bertholdt called from the door.

Eren groans resting his head on Armin's. While it made him smile that Eren wants to stay, Armin really wants to see Eren perform more. "Eren, we have all day just us tomorrow I'd really wanna watch you perform." Armin leans back before going on his tip-toes to peck Eren's cheek.

Eren sighs happily pressing his lips to Armin's forehead. "Who am I to deny that?" Eren keeps his arm around Armin’s waist as they walk inside. Eren makes eye contact with Jean who's got his arm around some freckled boy. He quickly looks down at Armin, who's already seen the pair, to find a flustered look on his face. Armin looks up at Eren briefly before pressing his lips to Eren's neck and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. He lets go of Eren and makes his way over to Mikasa and Historia. Armin turns back to give Eren a wink before striking up a conversation with his two besties.

Completely frozen in his tracks Eren's mind runs at a mile a minute to try and process what his newfound favorite blondie just did. Snapping back to reality he sees the death glare from Jean and chuckles to himself before making his way back to his band to finish the show.

#lgbtq #eremin #eren jaeger #eren x armin #armin arlert #attack on titan #aot anime #justjoccesaotfic

19 notes · View notes

when-they-write-stuff · 4 years ago

Note

Dangerous sentence prompts: what are you doing ? you missed the stop back there ?

Derek wasn’t sure what exactly was happening, but something was happening. Something involving Stiles Stilinski and his pale, annoying face.

Something was happening. Derek had never been more sure of anything in his entire life.

It started when Stiles stole his jacket.

Derek didn’t know what had happened to his leather jacket at first. During one of the pack meetings it was hanging up on the door and the next day, when Derek went to grab it, the thing was gone.

He was pretty sure it was one of his betas.

Except, Isaac denied it, Erica got offended, and Boyd just gave him a cool look until Derek dropped the matter. He even tried interrogating his uncle but Peter only laughed and informed Derek that he harbored way too much love for his leather jacket.

But Derek was ready to kill someone. Because it was his leather jacket, it was his. One of the last things he had from New York and a gift from Laura before her death. He was going to track down whoever stoles his jacket and then he was going to kill them.

Derek never expected Stiles to be the culprit.

Derek was supposed to be driving the betas back to the loft, but he didn’t make it past the street that separated the way to the loft from the way to Stiles’s house. Boyd raised an eyebrow as he went left instead of right and Erica leaned forward.

“Derek, honey, what are you doing? You missed the stop back there.”

“I need to check on Stiles.”

“Is this a thing now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Derek said in a growl. He parked a few blocks from the Stilinski house and glared at his betas. “Don’t move. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Isaac only smirked and Boyd gave him a knowing look. One Derek didn’t care to acknowledge. This wasn’t a thing. It would never become a thing.

It wasn’t like he did this every other night.

When he pulled himself through the boy’s window that night, the last thing he expected to see what Stiles sitting at his desk, typing at his computer, and wearing Derek’s leather jacket. He just stood there for a moment, one foot in the room and one still out on the window, and just stared.

It took Stiles a moment to notice him.

And when he did, the boy yelped and flailed so hard, he fell out of his chair and landed in a heap on the floor. That finally made Derek snap back to reality and he could feel his eyes turning red.

“Stiles, what the hell are you doing with my jacket?”

Stiles looked up with wide eyes. Derek towered over him and he could hear the boy’s heartbeat running at a hundred miles an hour. Stiles’s eyes flicked from Derek, down to the jacket he was wearing, and then back up. Stiles put on a small smile and pushed himself up, nervously brushing off the leather jacket’s sleeves.

“Uh, Derek, dude. Don’t you know how to knock?”

“Stiles, answer the question.”

“What,” Stiles said, glancing down at himself again. “This old thing? I didn’t even realize I was wearing it. It’s yours, you say? That makes so much sense! I don’t remember ever owning a leather jacket. It just showed up one day.”

“It didn’t show up, you stole it,” Derek accused. Stiles’s eyes went round.

“I would never!”

“You do realize I can hear you lying, right?”

“I think that’s an unfair advantage that should not be brought into the court as evidence. Not all of us are werewolves with super senses, you know.”

“Stiles,” Derek said, his voice barely above a growl. “Give me the jacket.”

Stiles looked at him for a long moment. Then he frowned and stripped it off, grumbling the entire time. Derek all but snatched it from his hands and then turned, heading back for the window.

He didn’t even remember why he’d come here. Right now, he was too irritated and confused to trying dwelling on it.

Something was happening. And for some reason, Stiles was involved.

Derek didn’t realize this was only the beginning.

- -

The second time Derek noticed the strange things that Stiles was getting up to, the boy literally threw himself into his arms after going on a long run.

Derek didn’t even know Stiles ran. But the boy had come to the loft directly from school and he already stank from lacross practice. Then he announced he was going on a run, proceeded to leave all his things at the loft and disappear, only to return half an hour later literally dripping in sweat.

And then he was hugging him. Stiles was hugging him. Derek.

And he smelled awful.

For a moment, Derek couldn’t comprehend anything. Erica started laughing so hard on the couch, she laughed herself straight off. But Derek’s brain had stopped working. All he could do was smell sweat, teenage hormones, and the faint whiff of cinnamon.

Then he was shaking Stiles off and the boy was grinning at him, all bright eyes and white teeth. Derek smelled like sweat now. He was pretty sure it was all over his shirt.

“Stiles,” Derek snarled, flashing his red eyes. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m all sweaty,” Stiles said with a grin. Derek snarled harder.

“I know that. You stink.”

“Now you stink too!”

“Why.”

“I could explain,” Stiles said, shaking his damp hair out like a dog. “But then that would ruin the mystery. And I’m a man of mystery! Now, where do you keep your water bottles? Also, I’m starving.

Derek glared after him but Stiles didn’t even seem to notice. The boy ducked around him and headed for the kitchen and Derek… Derek just stood there. Confused and glaring. His face was a little red as he glanced toward the pack to see them all laughing and Peter— Peter— just smirking from where he sat.

The werewolf wore a knowing looking on his face. But Derek sure as hell wasn’t asking Peter for help.

So he just growled and started toward the bathroom. Now he had to take a shower. Again. Derek didn’t know what Stiles was up to, but it was starting to get under his skin. The boy was acting strange. Stranger than normal.

Things kept getting weirder from there.

- -

Derek didn’t know what to do when he came back to the loft on a school day and found Stiles passed out in his bed.

Mostly, he didn’t know what to do because that wasn’t the only thing. Stiles was passed out in his bed and he was wearing Derek’s clothes. Derek’s clothes. From one of his t-shirts to a pair of his sweatpants, which rode low enough to make Derek blush.

He stood in the doorway of his bedroom and just stared for a moment. The air smelled like Stiles; cinnamon and autumn leaves. It should be strange and wrong because the last thing a werewolf wanted was another’s scent all over their stuff, but Derek found it to be calming.

That both surprised and unnerved him.

Derek flipped the light on and barked out Stiles’s name.

The boy was awake in a second, jerked sideways with a yelp. He managed to catch himself before he rolled off the bed and his hair was sticking up in all directions as he blinked at Derek. He smacked his lips a few times and blinked even more than that, and then his amber eyes sharpened and a grin cracked across his face.

“Sourwolf!”

“What is happening.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles said, burrowing deeper into Derek’s covers. Derek only arched a brow and jerked his chin toward the entire scene and Stiles’s entire face turned red as his scent flushed with embarrassment. “Oh, that. This. Yeah, um, I wasn’t feeling good.”

“You weren’t feeling good?”

“Nope! I was feeling a little sick so I got sent home. Except I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to go home because my dad would just send me right back, so I came here! And nobody was home. And since I’m sick, I’m also tired, and…”

Stiles trailed off but the rest was left obliviously unsaid. Derek growled and glared at the clothes Stiles wore.

“And do you have an explanation for that?”

Stiles gazed down at him and his blush turned even redder. He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “My clothes were making me worse?”

“Your clothes. Were making you worse.”

“I made the bad decision of wearing jeans to school, Sourwolf. That’s never a good thing to do when you’re feeling crappy. But then I came here! And come on, dude, you have more than enough sweatpants.”

Derek moved forward and Stiles shied a little deeper into the covers. Derek wasn’t even about to begin to question what that did to his stomach. It felt like he had butterflies in his chest. He didn’t get butterflies in his chest. Leaning forward, Derek took a deep sniff.

Stiles raised an eyebrow from the bed. Derek narrowed his eyes.

“You don’t smell sick.”

“Dude, stop trying to go all lie detector on me! You don’t know anything about my body.”

Derek drew back and Stiles’s scent flooded with both embarrassment and… arousal. Derek swallowed hard and forced himself to turn away, moving back toward his door. He heard the sound of Stiles sitting up.

“Where are you going?”

“You’re sick,” Derek said without turning around. “I’m going to make chicken noodle soup.”

Stiles didn’t say another word but Derek could smell the warm change in his scent. He tried not to concentrate on it, stalking out of the bedroom, but it was hard. Especially because he knew his room was going to smell of those things later. His room was going to smell like Stiles, and Derek… Derek…

Derek didn’t mind that realization.

- -

The fourth time, he thought he was beginning to understand what was going on. But Derek couldn’t be sure and he was too scared to come right out and ask.

The fourth time, Stiles ended up in his lap.

Derek had a system during movie nights and this system involved trying to ignore Stiles. Or, more so, it was trying to ignore Stiles and his stupid face.

Because Stiles’s stupid face was always doing stupid things.

Always.

When the boy wasn’t focused solely on the TV, amber eyes reflecting the images and teeth chewing avidly on his bottom, he had a Twizzler dangling from his lips, or a mouth full of popcorn making his cheeks bulge. There was always something. And it drove Derek crazy.

He could never concentrate on the movie. He usually didn’t even know what they were supposed to be watching.

When the pack announced movie night, Derek knew he was screwed. At this point, he’d just developed a system. And he tried to stick to it as best as he could.

Except Stiles wasn’t sticking to it this time.

Derek wasn’t sure how he ended up with the boy sitting so close he was nearly sitting in Derek’s lap, but things happened. The entire time, Stiles was pressed up against him. Shoulder to shoulder, thighs touching, knees bumping every time Derek shifted.

And he was shifting a lot. Because he couldn’t think straight.

He didn’t miss the amused looks his pack kept sending him but Derek couldn’t help it. Stiles was too close. Derek’s brain was going into overdrive. All he could smell was cinnamon and autumn and all he could hear was Stiles’s uneven heartbeat and loud chewing.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t even close to fair.

By the time whatever movie they were watching was only half-way through, Stiles was basically thrumming with energy and Derek couldn’t take it anymore. He tried to sit up so fast the cushions tilted sideways and the next thing he knew, Stiles was in his lap.

Derek froze and Stiles gazed up at him, a twizzler hanging out of his mouth. The boy’s pupils dilated and his teeth grinned around the twizzle and he just. Didn’t. Move.

Derek stayed frozen. The movie kept playing. Stiles stayed in his lap and casually turned back toward the TV and all Derek could do was stare. Because this was happening. He wasn’t hallucinating or losing his mind.

Derek stayed frozen in place for the next hour. Stiles didn’t bother to move a muscle.

And Derek reeked of the boy afterward.

- -

The fifth time wasn’t even a big thing. It was a little thing. All of the little things.

Too many little things.

It was Stiles sitting right next to Derek when he brought by breakfast on the weekends. It was Stiles grinning during training as Derek pinned him down and then moving up to trace his nose over Derek’s collarbone. It was Stiles stealing all of Derek’s shirts, bringing them back when they smelled like him, and then acting like that never happened.

It was Stiles. It was always Stiles. He and his stupid face were everywhere.

“You do realize what he’s doing,” Peter said one day, sounding smug. Derek tried to ignore his uncle but that was never easy. When Peter decided he wanted attention, he got attention. And that would annoy Derek until the day he died.

“Go away, Peter.”

“Oh come on, nephew, don’t tell me you haven’t recognized it yet.”

Derek clenched his jaw and focused on making his coffee. But Peter was there and Peter was smirking at him, and Derek couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Gritting his teeth, he abandoned his coffee and turned toward his uncle. “What.”

“Don’t ‘what’ me, Derek. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Stiles.”

“Yes, Stiles,” Peter said, sounding exasperated. “Stiles Stilinski, the mess of a teenager who has been scent marking you like a rabid wolf these past two months. I’m surprised he hasn’t started peeing on everything you own yet.”

Derek winced at that unfortunate imagery. “I don’t want to think about that, Peter. Please go away.”

“If you continue to ignore him, he’s just going to get worse,” Peter said. Derek flashed his red eyes but the man only grinned. “And if you’re not careful, he’s going to lose interest. He’s a teenage boy, Derek. Things can only hold his attention for so long.”

Derek resisted the urge to flinch at that. Because that was something that terrified him, although he’d never admit it out loud.

Because maybe he did acknowledge Stiles’s advances. Maybe he did let himself admit that Stiles was… Stiles was something to Derek. More than the pale-skinned, loud-mouthed teenager that Derek couldn’t stand two years ago. Maybe he did acknowledge Stiles and everything he had become to Derek.

And then maybe he got tossed aside because Stiles was a teenager with a short attention span. Derek didn’t know if he could recover from that.

So instead of answering, he just glared at his uncle and turned back to his coffee. Peter chuckled again and Derek listened to the sounds of his footsteps leaving the kitchen. And then he gripped his spoon so hard the metal began to bend.

Derek knew what Stiles was doing. He knew what the boy was trying to accomplish. He knew what Stiles was hoping to achieve.

But Derek was terrified about what the end result would be.

- -

Stiles didn’t think his plan was working.

He’d done extensive research— extensive research. He’d learned that werewolves were weird and werewolves did weird things like scenting. It was basically stating their claim. Making their mark. And the more Stiles read the more ideas he got.

The more ideas that involved a certain Alpha werewolf.

Now, he wasn’t an idiot. He knew Scott had tried scenting him in the past and Derek had started scenting him more recently. It began with soft touches across the back of his neck and then sometimes sitting too close during movie nights. And Stiles had been fine with it.

Then he decided to do some scenting of his own.

Because two could play at that game, dammit. And the more things he read, the more ideas Stiles got. By the time he had gone to bed on day one, his head was so full of plans and schemes, he could barely sleep.

But here he was two months later and Stiles didn’t think his plan was working. Short of peeing on everything that Derek owned, Stiles didn’t know what else to do.

He was sitting at his desk looking up ‘How to train your local Alpha werewolf’ when suddenly his window was sliding open and Derek himself was swinging in. Stiles yelped and slammed his laptop shut and Derek raised an eyebrow, looking from him, to the laptop, and then back.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Good afternoon, Sourwolf. Have you still not learned how to knock?”

“Shut up.”

“Ah, I can see brought your wide-ranging vocabulary, as usual. So glad you saved that just for me. Tell me, oh Alpha mine, is there a reason for this little visit?”

“You,” Derek said. Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“Monosyllabic. That’s fun.”

“You,” Derek said again, pulling himself all the way into Stiles’s room. “Are so damn annoying.”

“Woah, okay, let’s back up a few steps here dude. What’s brought this on? What have I possibly done? This token human is innocent!”

“You’re scenting me!” Derek shouted, his eyes flashing red. “Why the hell do you keep scenting me?”

Stiles blinked at him. Then a slow grin crept across his face and he tilted his head. “Oh my god, you’ve finally noticed.”

“Stiles, I swear to god—”

“What?” Stiles said, cutting him off. “Are you going to rip out my throat for scenting you? I’ve been working at it for three months now, Derek! Erica figured it out from week one and she’s a little puppy beta. Three months, Derek. Three months!”

Derek blinked at him. He looked a little confused and a lot nervous, and Stiles didn’t know what to do with that.

“... Derek?”

“Why are you scenting me, Stiles?” Derek asked. His voice was startlingly vulnerable. “Is it a joke? An experiment?”

“I— what? Derek, what the hell? I’m scenting you because you’re pack, asshole.”

Grey-green eyes blinked at him. Stiles swallowed nervously and ran a hand through his hair, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“And because I’m staking my claim on all that is Derek Hale.”

“What.”

“Only if that’s okay,” Stiles said quickly. “I mean, I know it’s about three months too late to be asking permission, but if you’re totally grossed out by the idea of this scrawny teenager having a claim on your grumpy self, then—”

“Stiles.”

Stiles cut off miserably, slowly lifting his eyes again. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“I wasn’t trying to piss you off or anything, I swear. It’s just, there are the betas, and Scott, and—” Stiles shivered— “Even Peter. But there’s also you. Who’s protecting you?”

Derek blinked at him for a moment. Then he shook his head. “Scenting isn’t about protection, Stiles.”

“It is to me.”

The man studied him for a long moment. His face did a couple of different things before he moved closer. Stiles fidgeted nervously in his chair and Derek paused a foot away. “Stand up.

“Uh, what?”

“Stand up,” Derek said again. Stiles slowly rose to his feet and the man studied his face before tracing a hand along the back of Stiles’s neck. Stiles shivered underneath the touch and gentle fingers ghosted along his nape, then traced over his collarbone and around his shoulders. Stiles raised a nervous eyebrow as Derek drew away, still feeling the tingle of his touch.

“What, uh, was that?”

“That’s proper scenting,” Derek said. “Why do you think the pack is always trying to touch your neck?”

“I just thought they had no sense of boundaries.”

Derek rolled his eyes and Stiles grinned a little. He moved closer and tilted his chin upward, so there were only a few inches between them.

“So what does that mean, Sourwolf? Have you laid claim to this scrawny teenager?”

Derek’s eyes flashed red. “Not yet.”

Stiles shivered. He leaned closer and then Derek’s lips were brushing against his. The man’s fingers traced along the back of his neck again, moving in the same pattern, and Stiles hummed in appreciation. That made Derek growl, the sound vibrating all the way down Stiles’s spine.

He wanted to know exactly what real claiming felt like.

So yeah, it’d taken Derek a little while to catch up to everything. Stiles was pretty relieved he didn’t have to pee all over the man’s stuff. But this, in the end, was all worth it. Stiles would do it all over again if he had to.

He dragged his finger’s over the back of Derek’s neck, mimicking the man’s own actions, and was rewarded with a soft whine. Stiles grinned and did it again.

Yeah, he wanted to lay claim to all of this.

- -

I know this was supposed to be a dangerous sentence prompt, but the fluff got away from me. Also, it wasn’t supposed to be 3k words. That got away from me too.

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your underpaid student writer? Seriously, I’d adore you guys so much). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

#sterek #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #adventures in scenting #prompts #all the fluff and feels

64 notes · View notes

hopelessromanticspoonie · 5 years ago

Text

Helping Hands - Chapter 4

Series Masterlist here

Chapter Summary: Natasha makes Haley an offer, Haley and Loki share another late-night conversation during a storm, and a plan is formed.

Chapter Warnings: Mention of previous injuries, implications of previous abuse

A/N: I KNOW the gif is our dear Sir Thomas Sharpe. But he has black hair, so just, like, pretend?

“How are you feeling?

Haley squinted and blinked away her slumber, lifting her hand to shield her eyes against the glare of bright, sterile lighting above her. A quick mental check of her body with a few small twists and stretches, and she could fairly confidently answer Nat with a grumbled, “Probably better than you. Healing just as I always do.”

The bed shifted, and Haley finally opened her eyes enough to clearly see the lethal blonde perched on the side of her bed, looking a bit worse for wear with dark circles under her eyes and a gray tinge to her skin. Somehow she was still gorgeous, which was honestly just unfair. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

Color stained her cheeks, and she dropped her eyes to her hands, pleased and confused to see that someone had scrubbed the blood from them while she had been sleeping. Probably the same person who changed her into the itchy, thin gown that scratched against her skin. “It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not. You could have died.” Nat winced a bit when she reached up to brush a bit of hair out of her eyes, dropping her hand to her side. “Once I’m healed up, I want to help you, too. Say a bit of fight training? I don’t want you to ever need it, but in my experience, it… helps.”

She didn’t know Natasha’s past. She didn’t know anything about her besides the fact that she wasn’t gifted any superhuman abilities like her or Loki, or given some sort of serum to make her different, like Bucky and Steve. But there was wisdom in her brown eyes, shadowed with pain and a darkness that worked to pull her full lips into a frown and knit her brow together. Whatever she had faced before living in this tower and fighting for the good of others, it had given her an understanding of the unease that lingered constantly at the back of Haley’s mind. That much was clear.

“I’d like that, yeah. Thanks.”

Nat nodded her head, standing up slowly and heading toward the door. Just before she left she waved her hand at the bedside table, calling out, “I caught Loki leaving that for you this morning.”

It was a plush black hoodie, the exact same as the one that had been cut from her body the day before, freshly washed and still warm from the dryer. She reached over to hug it to her chest, smiling at the glow that stretched within her at the familiar scent of spice and mint lightly perfuming the fabric.

She would have known who had gifted it to her even if Nat hadn’t spilled the beans.

They were so high in the sky the thunder rattled her teeth just before each blinding flash outside the floor-to-ceiling windows making up an entire wall of her room. The dark sky rolled just beyond her eyes, illuminated with frequent lighting to reveal heavy clouds thick with rain that pelted the glass in fat, heavy drops. It was too much. To go from a life spent underground, rarely seeing the sun, to practically living inside the vicious storm was proving too frightening to handle alone.

And sleep? Out of the question. Not even with the comfort of her hoodie wrapped around her and all of the blankets cocooning her in the middle of her expansive, too soft bed could she keep her eyes closed once the deafening boom and crack of the storm battered against her ears.

She left the solitude of her bedroom, a sliver of hope guiding her to the living area where she yearned to find a distracting companion. If her efforts were futile, at least the space was bigger, and it wouldn’t feel as if she was right in the nasty elements. Her silent prayers, given to any deity that would listen, were answered in the form of Loki, draped across the couch and watching television with concentrated curiosity.

“My brother appears to be quite angry this evening.”

She scurried over to sit beside him, crossing her arms over her stomach and balling her hands up into fists in the fabric of her overly long sleeves. “Thor?”

Loki paused the television, dropping the remote onto his lap before running a hand through the midnight black locks spilling over his shoulders with a nod. “The God of Thunder, as he was known on Asgard, and as some of the ancient Midgardians worshipped him. What became a trip seeking freedom and adventure in our youth accidentally started a bit of a following amongst the Nordic people, centuries ago. Quite fascinating, really.”

She blinked. “So he can’t really control Thunder. It’s just a name.”

“Oh, no, he most certainly can. Lightning is more his forte, though. I am sure if you ask him he would be more than happy to demonstrate for your entertainment,” Loki corrected her with just a hint of bitterness lacing his tone.

“But he can’t do magic like you? He isn’t like you?”

Just then a particularly close bout of thunder shook the tower, and she squeaked, pressing herself further into the back of the couch so that her leg rested along the length of his and the back of her head brushed against his hand. His thigh was warm and firm through the combined layers of fabric of her pajama bottoms and his jeans.

The devilish smirk that he directed her way made her tummy flutter oddly beneath her hands. “No one is like me, little one.”

She didn’t know a man’s voice could go that low and sound with such promise, soothing like cool satin and teasing her skin into tingling goosebumps. Normally, any deep voice she heard was laced with threats and growls, demanding things of her that she didn’t want to give. But, if Loki was seeking something with that heated tone, some instinctual part of her knew that it would be good. His eyes shone as his hand dropped from behind her to curl over her shoulders, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over her arm.

“The storm cannot reach you in this tower,” he assured her, glancing up at the deluge muddling the bright lights of the city that never slept. “You are safe.”

They all kept repeating that: safe. Sometimes it didn’t sound like a word anymore. Like it had lost all meaning from how often it was repeated behind sad smiles and heavy sighs. She knew they meant it, but it didn’t silence the nagging doubt at the back of her mind that couldn’t place Mr. Shaw with the still faces she had climbed over during her escape.

But it was quieted when she was curled up next to Loki beneath the strong weight of his arm, searching his expression for the telltale signs of pity. Pity made her feel weak, like some broken doll with too big brown eyes and full lips that had its hair shorn off by a vengeful toddler who didn’t know how to properly play with the nice things it had stolen.

But the understanding that permeated his lingering stare?

That made her soft, warm and content and hopeful. For what, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t have a name for the tiniest flicker of longing that itched in her fingertips. Could his silken hair soothe that need?

Where were these thoughts coming from?

She had to blame the reality television Sam and Darcy had insisted she watch - to "teach her the ways of the world", they’d claimed. Or maybe it was the soap operas Nat had suggested.

“I know that you have not seen much of this realm. I was watching a program concerning the Nordic nations I spoke of earlier. Would you care to join me?”

It was better than sitting in the darkness of her room all alone. And Loki wasn’t terrible company, even with the unnameable feelings stirring in the pit of her belly. “Sure.”

He restarted the television before disappearing for a few minutes, leaving her to stare at the lush green fields, black sand beaches, and jagged cliffs cut into mountains of snow and ice that sparkled so brilliantly she thought she’d never seen anything more breathtaking. The din of him rummaging around stopped just before he came back to the couch, settling back against her and handing her a plate of treats and a steaming cup.

“Hot cocoa with miniature marshmallows and whipped cream, and double fudge brownies,” he supplied, taking the plate and balancing it on both of their thighs.

She couldn’t stifle a moan when the sweet sugary dessert melted on her tongue, closing her eyes to savor the taste.

“I thought you might like those,” he mused, taking a bite of his own brownie before turning his attention back to the dancing green and blue lights across the night sky on the screen. “Ah, northern lights.”

“Are they real?”

He smiled gently at the awed expression on her face and gave her a small nod. “They are. I will ensure you see them one day.”

“Absolutely not.”

Loki’s rage tensed along his back as he faced down the entire Avengers team.

She had faint memories of brightly colored pictures on a beige wall, young men dressed in outrageous outfits and all posing seriously for the camera, women grouped together and pouting with silver eyeshadow and wavy hair. The Avengers reminded her of those distant images, grouped together with solemn expressions on their faces.

“I gotta side with Loki on this one,” Tony agreed, taking off his glasses and shoving them into the pocket of his jeans, following the fidgeting gesture with both hands so that his shoulders almost touched his ears. “She isn’t bait.”

“It’s the best shot we have of luring that asshole out of hiding. He’s going to want her back.”

She didn’t know anything about the black, eye-patch sporting man separated from the rest of the gang. He had strolled in, called for a meeting, and then waited impatiently for everyone to congregate in the living area. But his voice was hard, his black suit - stark, and his stare - cold. It reminded her too much of her former owner - the topic of their discussion.

“Fury.”

The unknown man - Fury - stood up and leveled Nat with a frigid glare. “Get her ready. We’ll catch this bastard.”

And then he left just as quickly as he’d come, pulling out his phone to make a call, effectively cutting off any further attempt at talking some sense into him.

It was hard to breathe against the terror that seized her like a vice. Nat, Steve, and Tony all approached her at the same time, but it was Loki that turned and reached her first, tugging on her wrist until her trembling frame was tucked securely beneath his arm.

“I won’t let him touch you.”

And somehow, she believed him, mentally holding onto the fervently whispered promise with a death grip that only rivaled that of her fingers clutching at the folds of his shirt.

~~~

Series taglist: @kneel-before-queen-loki @alexakeyloveloki @from-hel-i-with-love @cleocc @cateyes315 @coldbookworm @rjohnson1280 @bambi-butt @skiddleskaddle @myraiswack @ilovetardis @midgardian-mistress @lisaspageofstuff @lokis-high-priestess @bluestaratsunrise

Little Bit o’ Loki taglist: @myownviperroom @grahoundart @darealbellabelleoftheball @boubouinscarlet @iamverity @rt8815 @lots-of-loki @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @ms-cellanies @rosierossette @thathedonistgirl @lokixme

Whole Shebang taglist: @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @nonsensicalobsessions @vodka-and-some-sass @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @myoxisbroken @brokenthelovely @polireader @wiczer @littleredstarfish @the-broken-angel-13 @arch-venus25 @xxloki81xx @jessiejunebug @tinchentitri @sllooney @devilbat @vikkleinpaul @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @angelus80 @wolfsmom1 @kthemarsian @toozmanykids @claritastantrum @princerowanwhitethorngalathynius @sabine-leo @lovesmesomehiddles @peterman-spideyparker @wegingerangelica @bluefrenchfries604 @catsladen @snoopy3000 @silverswordthekilljoy @villainousshakespeare

#loki fanfic #loki #loki x OFC #slow burn #angst #fluff #protective!loki #protective loki #helping hands #helpless writes

155 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 6 years ago

Text

MET - Shawn Mendes

arghhh it didn’t turn out how i wanted but i hope you’ll still enjoy it!

masterlist

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror as the glam team is working hard on you. Not that you need that much work to look presentable, but because you are going all out with your look tonight and need everything to be perfect. Your appearance is going to be a statement.

Your phone buzzes on your lap just when Anna, the hair stylist starts applying gold onto your hair. You jump a bit at the cold feeling and meet her gaze exchanging a smile before you turn to your phone and open the message you just got from Shawn.

“No worries, I’ll be there right next to you. Xx”

Your last text explained how nervous you are to attend the Met Gala as his plus one. It’s going to be your official debut as a couple, something people have been waiting for months, to be sure since the two of you was shot at a restaurant early in your relationship. You both did a great job keeping things low-key but now is the time to set your feet into the public and officially appear as Shawn’s girlfriend.

It’s kind of unfair how men need half as much time to get ready as women, you’ve been up since seven in the morning, took the longest shower, shaved and moisturized your whole body making sure you didn’t miss a spot, then you had your nails done, perfectly matching your outfit and the glam team has been working on you since one pm. Shawn left early in the morning to have a quick studio session before it’s time for him to get ready, now it’s two pm and he is on his way back to the hotel.

A nervous sigh slips out through your lips as you lock the phone and put it back to your lap turning your gaze back to yourself in the mirror. Anna is working precisely on your hair, applying the gold to your slicked back ‘do. You’re still kind of overwhelmed by the fact that it’s actual gold, not just some fake golden paint. It’s going to match with Shawn’s look and you are excited to see how you’ll look next to each other.

“How am I going to get it out?” you ask her as she finishes up the painting and starts fixing the smallest details.

“Just wash it,” she smiles at you in the mirror. “Maybe you’ll need a few more rounds of shampoo but it should come out easily.”

Weird to think you’ll be washing thousands of dollars out of your hair and watch it go down the drain, but you keep it to yourself. It’s the Met after all, you should be as extra as possible.

Just when Anna finishes your hair the door opens and Shawn walks in, wearing a black hoodie and black jeans. His eyes fall on you and a wide smile spread across his handsome face.

“Wow, you look amazing!” he breathes out stopping a few steps away from you, admiring your final beauty look. For your eyes you went for a dramatic smokey look with golden in your eyebrows, your lips are a nude color with a thin golden line running from under your nose through your lips down to your chin. You’ve never looked this extra and never thought you’d ever be going out looking like this, but you have to admit you are excited.

“It’s your turn,” you grin at him standing up from the chair and fixing your bathrobe. Shawn leans down for a kiss, but you turn your head. “Nah, you are not ruining my makeup,” you warn him with a look. He pouts his lips at you looking like a puppy, but your mind can’t be changed. He won’t just mess everything up with a kiss.

You caress his cheek and the push him towards the seat. A few moments later Anna is working magic on his hair. You manage to force a few bites into you, not wanting to faint on the pink carpet later, and sitting on the bed you watch Shawn getting his hair done.

Soon Andrew arrives as well and he is completely satisfied with your look so far.

“It’s going to be amazing, don’t worry,” he encourages you seeing how scared you are.

“What if I fall?” you ask, worried to death. You’ve been thinking about all the possible ways to humiliate yourself out there in the past couple of weeks, almost giving you nightmares.

“You won’t, Shawn won’t let you,” he smirks glancing over at the man in word. Shawn smiles at us from the mirror wiggling his eyebrows.

When it’s past four Tiffany advices you to start putting on your dress since it’s not an easy task.

“Let’s move over to the bathroom,” she suggests and you nod in agreement.

“See you in a bit!” Shawn calls out as he is getting his makeup done, which is basically just some corrections on his skin.

Tiffany and you occupy the huge bathroom of your hotel room, your dress is lying in the bathtub since this was the only way not to wrinkle it. After handling your underwear situation, with the help of Tiff you manage to put the dress on in about fifteen minutes.

It was a long debate to decide on your dress. The gold was the only sure thing since Anna knew from the beginning this is where she is going to go with the hairstyles, but it didn’t give much leads on the dress. After weeks of searching Tiffany finally found the perfect choice. A fully golden Saint Laurent dress with a daring cleavage and a huge skirt that has a barge that’s quite the statement. The whole dress is made of a kind of flowy material and has a nice metallic effect, perfectly matching the hair.

When it’s finally on Tiff helps you with your simple black heels and then admires her work with a satisfied smile.

“You look amazing. Shawn will lose his mind.”

She advised to not let Shawn see your final choice before the big day and now you’re kind of nervous to step out of the bathroom. Tiff leaves you alone to build up your courage and also to put your rings on while she dresses Shawn quickly. You stand in front of the mirror examining your final look. There is no question you are quite extra, doing justice to the theme of the gala, but the butterflies in your stomach just wouldn’t stop. You question your choice to make your first official appearance on the Met Gala, it would have been nerve wrecking at any other event, but the Met adds some more to your worries.

You fix your dress and try to let go of all the negative thoughts you’ve been building up in your mind in the past weeks. You hear a knock on the door and Tiff’s head appears.

“You ready for the reveal?” she asks and you force yourself to nod before you could change your mind.

She gives you an encouraging smile as she holds the door open while you slowly walk out. Shawn is standing in the middle of the room, dressed in his black suit and he is fixing his collar when his eyes land on you and he immediately stops mid-action.

“Fuck,” is the first thing that slips his mouth, making everyone laugh in the room.

“Is it that bad?” you ask knowing well it was totally an amused expression.

“Are you kidding me? You are fucking gorgeous! Babe, I think I fell in love with you again!”

You can’t help but chuckle at his words as he walks over to you taking a closer look at your final form. His hands find yours as his eyes roam your body and the dress, still fully amazed by you.

“So beautiful,” he adds smiling at you proudly and his reaction truly warms your heart giving you the boost you needed.

Soon you both are sitting in the car on the way to the Gala, you are sitting sideways not to wrinkle the back of your dress and Shawn is holding your hand, running his thumb on your skin back and forth in a soothing way.

“Hey,” he speaks up getting your attention. “Don’t stress. It’s gonna be alright.”

“What if I-“

“No what ifs,” he says cutting you off. “You have to remember two things.”

“What two things?” you shyly ask.

“One, you look absolutely beautiful, like, mind-blowingly gorgeous.”

You blush at his compliment, thinking how adorable he is.

“And the second?”

“The second is that I love you. And no matter what happens, I’ll love you the same way, or even more at the end of the night. No one can change that, so don’t worry about tonight.”

Your heart melts looking at him. He truly is the most wonderful man to walk this Earth and you have no idea how you got so lucky to have him in your life.

“I want to kiss you so bad, but I don’t want to mess up my makeup,” you sigh making him chuckle.

“I know. You can make up for the kisses when we are back at the hotel,” he winks at you making you blush.

His small peptalk kind of worked. When the car stops and it’s time to get out you feel less nervous. You are still shitting your nonexistent pants, but you don’t feel like you are about to pass out. Shawn doesn’t let go of your hand as you make your way to the carpet. Right before you are about to step out there he turns to you looking deep into your eyes.

“Remember, I love you.” He brings your hands up to his lips and kisses your knuckles.

“I love you too,” you tell him, wishing you were able to kiss him, but your eyes tells it all.

A few moments later you are standing on the pink carpet of the Met Gala and people are losing their heads over the two of you. Shawn keeps you close to his side, but also lets you shine since everyone loves your dress. You keep posing for the cameras, Shawn occasionally steps back and fixes your dress without you even asking him to do so. As time passes by you feel more and more comfortable in your skin. You are definitely starstruck by all the celebrities around you, but it’s excited to be a guest.

Later, when you are back at the hotel after the wildest night of your life, the gold is gone, you are wearing one of Shawn’s hoodies and panties while he is in his boxers, laying on the bed, you are checking the photos from the pink carpet.

“Baby, we look like a power couple,” he proudly states staring at the screen. He is right, your appearance matched in the best way and everything was on point. “Can I post this?” he asks showing a picture where he has an arm around your waist and you are looking at each other smiling. He was still taller than you even with those heels on you and it makes you smile.

“Yeah, it’s a cute photo,” you tell him and watch him save it and open it in his Instagram.

“I have the best caption, don’t look,” he tells you turning the phone away as he types the words in.

You get your phone from the night stand and wait for the notification to arrive. A few moments later it pops up and seeing the caption you start laughing.

“I think I just MET the love of my life.”

#shawn #mendes #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn mendes fanfictions #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes imagines #Shawn Mendes Imagine #mendes army

859 notes · View notes

ghostofbambifanfiction · 5 years ago

Text

I found a piece of fic that I wrote ages ago and decided never to post and miraculously did not delete! Which is rare for me! I delete too much! I think it’s pretty crap but I promised an anon a while ago that if I found something like this I’d share it (and apologies if there are errors this is a completely unedited first draft of something that I never finished).

Lily Evans is thirteen-years-old when her mother sits her down and explains that her body is about to "undergo some changes."

Her active participation in such a conversation is not how Lily pictured kicking off the summer holidays, but after two years at a boarding school that keeps her apart from her family from September 'til July, her mum is chomping at the bit to delve right into the Talk, lest her daughter learn about menstruation elsewhere—or god forbid, wake up covered in blood one morning and assume that she is shortly about to die.

Of course, Lily knows what to expect from her period. She can read, for one thing, and has numerous female friends. Beatrice got her first ever period at the start of second year, and on the train to school, of all places. Lily will be fine if left to her own devices, but her mother is so excited to talk about Puberty and Buying Bras and Now You're Becoming a Woman, and Lily doesn't have the heart to tell her that she's already quite clued in, thank you very much. She doesn't think she could live with inflicting such disappointment.

There's even a shoebox of props to hand, for Grace Evans is a nurse, and she wants her daughters to have all the information that she was denied at school.

Menstruation education station, she calls it.

"Tampons," her mother tells her, slapping the tiny, lipstick shaped contraption down on the kitchen table like she's preparing to place it as a wager in a high-stakes poker game. Her hand returns to the box and draws out yet another item. "Or pads. They're your two main choices. I'll give you a good supply of both before you go back, just in case, unless—do they have some other method, at Hogwarts? Some sort of magic potion? It's a very difficult subject to research, in my position."

Lily's father walks into the room—newspaper in hand, lips pursed as if preparing to whistle—catches sight of them both, then turns and walks right out again.

"What's wrong with Dad?" says Lily to her mother.

"Men are afraid of menstruation, sweetheart," Grace tells her, with a baleful glance at the door through which her husband has just exited, "because they're weak and silly, and can't be bothered to learn."

"Oh," Lily says, then lets out a laugh. "I suppose I won't ask Professor Slughorn how witches deal with periods."

"Heavens, no, he'll faint dead away."

Lily does not add that it would be rather funny to watch Slughorn faint to get out of an awkward conversation about the miracles of puberty. She doubts that he would feel comfortable talking to the boys about such a thing, let alone a member of the opposite sex.

Puberty is so much easier for boys, she reflects, and that's dead unfair. She may be but a girl and ignorant to the inner workings of the male body, but the only visible change she ever noticed in any of the boys in her year—specifically, in her house—was a sudden onslaught of squeaky voices. To make things more unfair, that phase didn't even last very long, except for poor Peter Pettigrew, who seems to be a squeaker by default.

Now she has to deal with people like Potter—to pick a name completely at random—acting like puffed-up, macho twits because their voices have finally broken.

"I don't know what witches do normally," she says, "but I can always ask Madam Pomfrey. She's the matron at school. My friend Beatrice started hers last year but she's Muggle-born too, so she never thought to ask. Her mum just sends her pads."

"Make sure you do," says her mum, her tone almost warning. "I can send you whatever you need, but it'll be easier for you if there's some magical method you can access, especially for the cramps." She pauses, looking thoughtful. "And the mood swings. And the sore boobs—" Her eyes light up. "—which reminds me..."

Lily groans as Grace delves into the box again and extracts a small measuring tape, such as a tailor might use.

"I don't have boobs to measure," she reminds her mother, clasping both hands to her chest.

"Yet," says Grace, brandishing the rolled-up tape like a particularly tempting treat. "You don't have boobs to measure yet, but that doesn't mean you'll never have boobs." She nods down at her own chest. "I was your classic late bloomer—not so much as an insect bite until I was sixteen, then I ballooned out. Same with your sister. In any case, you've got at least enough to fill an A-cup, and you need to start wearing bras."

"I don't need a bra."

"Well, you're getting one. As soon as I've got you measured up, I'll take you to M&S and get you sorted."

"What else have you got in there?" says Lily, eyeing the battered blue box with a wary eye while her mother unfurls the tape.

"Just the essentials," says Grace airily. "Some leaflets from the hospital, panty liners, condoms—"

As if her mother has cranked up the dial on an embarrassment meter that only a parent has the necessary skills to operate, Lily immediately turns as red as her own hair. "Mum!"

"I'm not saying you need to use them—"

"I'm thirteen!"

"—but it won't hurt you to know how, for future reference!"

"Mum, no," says Lily, as firmly as she can, in her best attempt to sound as if she's taking a mature line on this, "I don't have any reason to want to know how to—how to use—honestly, no." She can't pretend. Her face feels all hot, as if it has been set aflame. Even the thought of what her mother is referring to makes her feel slightly sick. "Seriously, no, I don't want to learn—"

"You don't have to take them with you in September, of course, you're still only thirteen," Grace continues, completely undaunted by her daughter's mortification, "but it seems like you were just a baby five minutes ago, sweetheart. The time goes so fast, honestly, and it won't be long before you start to experience your own sexual awakening—"

"I'm going to my room," says Lily desperately, and shoots out of her chair.

"It's really not that bad—"

"I am grounded. I am grounding myself."

"Really, Lily, I'm just trying to help." Her mother lets out a hefty sigh. "Once we've measured you for a bra, I'll show you how it works on a banana, and you'll see that it's really not that complicated."

Lily Evans decides that she will never eat a banana split again.

***

The inconvenient, unwanted, and oft warned-of sexual awakening comes to hammer down Lily's door when she is fifteen-years-old, by which time her boobs have most certainly come in.

Despite a multitude of painfully awkward conversations with her mother—who doesn't say it, but seems desperate for Lily to fancy someone, anyone, so that they can gossip about it together—on the topic, she finds herself entirely unprepared for it.

She's unprepared because it's… weird.

Lily has had crushes before—sort of—fleeting things that seemed to exist because she thought they were supposed to, rather than stemming from any particular stirrings on her part. She's a late bloomer, just like her mum, and she knows as much. Bea and Mary have both been snogged, and Lily knew that she was trailing a little behind, but she never cared. It was fine and dandy and totally normal. She might even say that she's been lucky to escape it for this long.

It doesn't happen in the way she was expecting, not that Lily had any particular expectations, but had she ever, they would not have formed along these particular lines. It wouldn't be so embarrassing, or confusing—not the how or the why or the when or the where, but the what. The what, of all things.

The what is the thing that baffles her most, because Lily always figured that it would be some transformative, meaningful thing, like an effortlessly witty conversation with a mature intellectual—tall, dark, and a little bit older than she, a boy with soulful blue eyes and scholarly interests.

The what should not be James Potter's arse in a pair of jeans.

But it is.

The thing about the magical world at large is that the robes are basically formless—loose, large, flapping things that hide the body away and become quite annoying during hotter months—but younger witches and wizards will opt not to wear them when it isn't strictly required. Throw Hogwarts, where robes are the mandatory default, into the mix, and something as unexpectedly disarming as a structurally spectacular derriere may spend a vast amount of time being cunningly hidden.

It's the last Hogsmeade trip of fourth year—with summer looming tantalisingly ahead like a ripe apple dangling from a tree—when Lily steps out of Scrivenshaft's and finds herself perfectly positioned to spy James Potter's denim-clad backside as he walks past with his mates.

Her eyes flick over his form as she scans the general area, then Lily finds her gaze dragged abruptly back, as if she's snagged her sleeve on a nail whilst passing through a doorway.

And now she's staring.

At an arse.

At James Potter's arse, which is the worst of it. If Lily has just discovered that she is, in fact, a person with a thing for bums, James Potter's bum—a neat, compact, beautifully fashioned marvel that looks like a peach in those bloody jeans (what monster let him go out in public wearing those things?)—should not have been the catalyst for this discovery, because James Potter is an immature sod, a walking headache, and a bloody annoying git. He and his gang of mates are childish boors, and Lily considers herself to be quite above their general tomfoolery.

She doesn't want to stare, but her eyes won't cooperate.

She likes it, and as she's quite certain that she doesn't much like James Potter, that makes even less sense than the school’s policy on using quills in a world where ballpoint pens exist. Would that she could deny it to herself… but Lily is not deluded. She can recognise the pleasure she's deriving for exactly what it is.

And that is just… not acceptable.

And how dare he, really?

"James Potter," she says hotly, finding herself suddenly and inexplicably compelled to acknowledge his existence, point him out, say his name, anything, "is a complete and utter toerag."

"What?" says Beatrice, who has been counting coins in the palm of her hand.

"Potter is a toerag," Lily repeats, even as she's telling herself to stop, shut up, why are you letting these words come out of your mouth? "I can't believe McGonagall even let him come here after the prank he pulled the other day."

"He got a bunch of detentions," says Mary, eyeing Lily curiously.

"Isn't that enough?" seconds Bea.

"Why are you so angry?" Mary adds. "What's he done to you?"

"Nothing, he's just an arse."

That's an unfortunate choice of words, Lily thinks, colouring nicely.

"Right, but he's always an arse," Mary presses on. "Why are you so angry about it now?"

"Nothing," Lily repeats, "but he just walked by and it reminded me that he's been pissing me off lately."

"If you say so, I suppose," says Mary, looking nonplussed, but a giggling Beatrice sticks her free hand in the air, waving as if to signal a rescue ship.

"Oi, Potter!" she bellows.

Several heads, including James Potter's, turn in their direction.

"Potter!" Beatrice repeats, waving him over.

Lily's heart leaps into her throat, gets stuck, and slides sheepishly back down to her chest.

"What are you doing?" she hisses, taking a swipe at Beatrice's arm.

"If you're pissed off with him, you should tell him to his face," says Bea, dodging out of Lily's grasp to beckon Potter over. "More fun for me that way."

Mary snorts, while Beatrice grins like a cunning fox. Meanwhile, Potter has left his friends to wait for him outside the Three Broomsticks, and is sauntering over with his hands in his pockets.

"I hate you," Lily mutters to Bea.

"That's right," says Bea, smiling broadly, "get it all out of your system."

"I don't want to talk to Potter."

"Then you shouldn't have been mouthing off abo—hey!" says Beatrice brightly, as Potter draws level with their group. "Look who it is!"

"Hello to my adoring fans," he says, with a grin that would be charming, if only it were spread across any other face, and widens considerably when his gaze lands on Lily. "Alright, Evans?"

Potter has been doing this lately, offering bog-standard greetings to the masses, then following them up with, "Alright, Evans?" as if he’s been compelled to single Lily out.

Knowing him, there's some wildly nefarious reason behind it, and Lily persists in believing that despite Bea's insane theories pertaining to thoughts and feelings of the romantic persuasion.

"It means a lot that you don't consider me a fan," she says coolly.

"It's not my place to tell all your secrets," Potter replies. "What did you buy?"

She frowns. "What?"

"In Scrivenshaft's." He nods to the shop behind her. "What did you buy?"

"That's none of your business."

"Oh, right, because Scrivenshaft's is known for selling top secret wizarding spy equipment, and the world as we know it will end if you tell me," he says, sending her a flat look. "Why'd you call me over?"

Lily has to force the corners of her mouth to stay determinedly downturned, rather than laugh, which she really wants to do. "I didn't call you over."

"Didn't you?"

"No, you idiot. Beatrice did."

"That's strange. Could've sworn it was you." His eyes haven't budged from her face for a second, and Lily is beginning to feel irrationally fearful that he's seen her ogling his arse. "Why'd Beatrice call me over?"

"Because Lily wants to talk to you," says Beatrice.

Lily wants to die on the spot.

70 notes · View notes

justjessame · 4 years ago

Text

One Night Standards

Based on the song “One Night Standards” by Ashley McBryde

Sitting at a dingy bar, sipping my drink, savoring every burning swallow, I glanced around at the other people partaking in their own forms of self medication. Be it the beer drinkers or those who preferred hard liquor this wasn’t the type of place to think of getting a fruity mixed drink with more sweet than alcohol. This dark and quiet place was for those who wanted nothing more than to drown their day, their week, or their life.

I was simply one of the ones that was feeling particularly down since every single thing that could go wrong had this week, month, life. And, finishing the drink in my glass, I gestured to the bartender for another. I felt someone sit down beside me, but I could have given less of a shit only if they lowered the shit bar.

A deep voice asked for a beer, his leg accidentally brushing my bare knee. I didn’t even bother glancing at him as he muttered his apology. Like it mattered. A small nod was the only answer he’d be getting from me tonight. I heard the bartender sit the beer bottle down in front of him, and smiled when my own drink was delivered. The purpose was, for me at least, to become comfortably numb.

Music, faint even in the quiet of the bar, wasn’t enough to make me forget my troubles. Definitely not enough to give anyone the urge to dance. I studied the lights from the bar through the clear fluid of my drink, wondering what could possibly make me feel better about- well anything.

“You look like you’ve had a rough-” the deep voice beside me started, but I snorted cutting him off.

I barely turned my head, side-eyeing him to which of the options he was going to finish with. “Day? Week?” Month?” I felt the smirk that was my constant companion twitch at the side of my mouth. “Try life.” I took another sip of my drink.

“Is it really that bad?” He asked, and he sounded interested. That was fucking dangerous.

Swallowing another sip, I felt the urge to groan build. “Of course not. Would ‘really bad’ bring me to such-” I gestured around our surroundings. “Elegant places?”

His chuckle was so deep and low that I would swear I could feel it through the soles of my shoes hooked on the bars of the stool I was seated on. I heard him take a drink of his beer. “When you put it that way-”

Silence settled again, and I sighed internally. I knew that my limit was one more drink, after the one in front of me, and I settled in to savor this one, then that one when it came. The stranger beside me, who clearly wasn’t as strange as he could have been, seemed of a similar mind. He drank his beer with the same short sips, his gaze focused on the mirror behind the bar. The thousand yard stare that I shared.

We sat together, not touching, not really talking. Drinking our drinks, occasionally those far off stares would meet in the mirror, and a smile here and smirk there. I could feel the heat from his body, bar stools were situated pretty close after all, and I was still wearing the light dress I’d put on when the sun was barely peeking over the horizon this morning. It looked like he was dressed far more appropriately for the establishment. Jeans, v-neck t-shirt, mussed hair, scruffy face, a uniform for men who knew they didn’t have to work hard to get attention.

I nearly scoffed at the unfairness of that. Men could sport day old scruff (or more), their hair could look like they’d slid their fingers through it all day while driving with the windows down, and an outfit that made it difficult to decipher whether they worked blue collar jobs or bought and sold blue collar businesses without more than a passing thought.

Women? Well, if I judged by my own experiences, heels were deemed a necessary evil if I was expected to be treated with any type of attention. And highlight femininity. And smile for shit’s sake, no one wants to see a frown on a woman’s face. Not even if she’s telling someone that the world is ending. Say that with a huge, perfect smile, darling. It makes it easier to take.

The man seated next to me, I knew for a fact, wasn’t the blue collar worker he was taking fashion cues from. Hell, if ANY of the other patrons had taken a look away from their drinks and diversions, I was fairly certain I’d be run over for them to get to him. An actor, and not just ANY actor. A cult favorite. Someone who was known by, if not his own name, then at least by his most famous character’s.

I may not feel like the world had much to offer in my current snit, but I wasn’t dead. Seeing him, here, beside me, was ALMOST enough to make me consider reconsidering my mood. Almost. Not quite there.

“Let me buy your next one,” he offered, breaking through my thoughts.

I shrugged, sitting down my now empty tumbler. What the hell, it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it. A question tugged at the back of my mind, but I was keeping it at bay. It didn’t matter. I didn’t care.

My drink came, and so did his. “Thank you.” I offered, trying and failing to offer more than my near constant smirk.

“Anytime.” He replied. Our eyes met in the mirror again, and I saw his smile grow. He looked down at the bar and I redirected my attention to my own glass. “You gonna tell me your name?” He asked, directing the question at the wood beneath his bottle.

“Not sure she’s going to answer,” I said, smirk growing a little. “She’s made of wood, you know?”

That got a laugh out of him. “Yes, she sure as hell is.” He turned to face my profile. “What about you?”

I tilted my head, pretending to think about it. “Yeah, I’m not made of wood.” I took a sip of the drink he’d be paying for and licked the excess moisture from my bottom lip.

His smile was almost blinding. Glad I could amuse at least someone. “I did not expect that.” I raised my eyebrow and cocked my head to the side. “You’re a little bit-”

“Sassy?” I offered. “Smart ass?”

Another laugh and I gave in and turned to face him. “Why does my name matter?” I asked, truly curious. I would eventually leave this bar. I would walk away and I would never see him again. Not here, not anywhere, except perhaps if he graced the screen of my television or I sat down in a movie theater and he happened to flash before me.

He studied me, taking another drink from his bottle, clearly trying to find a reason it did. Quiet blanketed us and I waited. His smile, ever present and overwhelmingly charming, twitched as he gave me an answer. “Guess so I could put a name to your face.” He shrugged and won points for not throwing me some cheesy pick up line.

I give my first name to him, like a gift, and focus on my glass. Last drink of the night I tried to hide from reality. I glanced up at the mirror behind the bar, and saw he was doing the same. And another question built in my brain, an insane inappropriate proposition that I had no intention of sharing.

“Never asked mine,” his voice was low, and I realized that we’d both kept our conversation, scarce though it was, quiet.

“Didn’t need to.” Another sip, taking the time to let the liquid swirl in my mouth, enjoying the flavor, the cold, the bite. Swallowing it, I noticed that I’d be leaving soon. Another sip or two, and I’d be finished. Off to the real world, no matter how disappointing it might be at the moment.

He took another drink, he had to be nearing the bottom of his own bottle. I watched as his eyes closed, enjoying the flavor of his own, as I had. “I’m staying at a place down the road.” He said, eyes opening, staring into mine in the mirror before us. I felt a flutter in my stomach. “It’s not where anyone cares who I am.”

Or who you’re with, I inserted for him. His hands were bare of jewelry. No ring in sight, no proof of whether he was taken or not. I knew. He knew. But there wasn’t a sign to stop either one of us from considering what he was saying. I took another drink, noncommittal. A no-tell motel. Him. Me. Could I? Should I? I came into this bar looking for a distraction from my world. Here it was on a platter.

The motel wasn’t something anyone would connect to him. Or anyone in his profession for that matter. It still had keys, metal keys, in fact. We hadn’t touched when leaving the bar. We hadn’t spoken. What was there to say?

He opened the door and stood back for me to step in first. I walked in, taking in the sparseness of the room. A double bed, nightstand, TV. Nothing to write home about, but we weren’t tourists, and this wasn’t a vacation from anything but our real lives. In this dank room, suitable for one thing only, we’d find it.

I felt his hands slide down my arms, bare and take my hands in his. His chest pressed against my back, his face coming down to inhale the scent of my neck. His lips kissed a spot just under my earlobe, finding one of my sweet spots like he’d picked up a map on the way to the motel. Our clothes fell, and if either of us had any inhibitions they were tossed on top of the pile of fabric.

We spent hours getting lost in one another. Taking our time, savoring the other’s body as we had our drinks at that hole in the wall bar. Coming together and rushing full steam through pleasure as though it were our job. And it was, for the night. When we parted, exhausted from the trials of forgetting, he rolled onto his back and before he could pull me to him, before I could be tempted to pretend this was something it wasn’t, I stood and dressed. Slipping out of the room before a word could be shared. It was enough. It was a better form of self medicating. And it was finished.

#Insert celebrity male of choice #song fic

4 notes · View notes

countess-rosegold-blog · 6 years ago

Text

A Fourth One

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader x Stephen Strange , some implied Surprise Avenger x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, cursing, topic towards the end may not be for everyone

Word Count: 4,287

Notes: This is my first ever IronStrange x Reader fic. I hope you like it and enjoy! GIFs are not mine. If you happen to re-blog, like or comment, thank you! I appreciate you.

You’ve been looking forward to reading this book for weeks now, but you’ve been stuck on the same page for the past hour.

You’re seated on your favorite chair at the Compound--much like Cobonpue’s bloom ones, only this was larger, fluffier. It’s situated by one of the giant picture windows that faced the lake. It was fair outside, the early morning sun casting a soft glow over everything it touched.

On any given day, this would have been perfect, but you’re grumpy.

“Making plans then changing them last minute. Jerks,” you mutter.

You kick yourself--as you always do during these self reflections--for even agreeing to be in a relationship with Tony No-Time-for-Anybody Stark and Stephen Always-Busy-Protecting-Sanctums Strange.

You didn’t want to be needy, because you weren’t. But these were peaceful times; the nightmare of the end of the world far behind.

You don’t even want to think about it but the memory barges in anyway.

The horror of watching Stephen slowly fade; not a single tear from you because you’re there, too, feeling everything and nothing all at once.

What a cruel place to be at the end of it all, a strange planet. Your heart breaks before you turn to dust; Stephen gone, fear in Tony’s eyes. You find solace that he remains in place despite the cry he lets out. And you try to reach him but you’re falling, so he runs to you.

“I won that bet, love,” you croak.

Tony is wailing. Shouting, begging, pleading ‘no’ over and over.

“It’s the end of the world, and I still love you, with all of--”

And then nothingness.

Your heart hammers in your chest. It’s ironic. You never have nightmares of that dark past, but when they do come, you’re always fully aware--always in a conscious state.

You drop the book. There’s no point in reading it now; your mood is ruined.

A floating small silver ball hovers, a faint violet light scanning you.

“Good morning, Agent Y/L/N. How are you doing today?”

“Urgh. Go away, FRIDAY.”

“Negative. Mr. Stark insists he gets an answer.”

“Mr. Stark can ask me himself.” You leave the comforts of the chair and decide to head out.

“He’s rather busy right now. Though your vitals scan show a spike in heart rate and blood pressure, which alarmed Mr. Stark.”

“I’m still standing, aren’t I?” You make your way to the staircases which no one really uses.

“If I may inquire, where are you headed, Agent Y/L/N?”

“Out.”

“That’s rather vague. Mr. Stark has instructions against letting you out of the Compound. You may want to reconsider.”

“I may want to, but I won’t.”

You glare at the hovering device and slam the door of the staircase access. It’s quite a long way down but you manage to find the exit soon enough.

You emerge from the far end of the building, the side facing away from the lake.

This area is very discreet and almost no one passes by here, which is why you’re surprised to see Carol Danvers making her way to you.

“Care?! You’re here!”

She lights up and you do a quick hug. “Just visiting.” Then she narrows her eyes at you. “Why are you here? As far as I know, I’m the only one who uses this way as an entrance.”

You laugh. “Well this is my quick exit starting today. Hey, would you mind giving me a ride to the city?”

“Y/N, I just got here. My car’s all the way there,” she points to the opposite side of the Compound.

“No. I mean you give me a ride to the city. Pretty please? Time is of the essence!”

“Hey, I’m not a rental!” She exclaims before adding, “What’s going on?” Concern on her face.

“I know! You’re a badass superhero who happens to fly. And… I’m kinda evading Tony. FRIDAY says he has some “instructions” against me leaving the Compound, so I’m gonna do exactly that.”

She scoffs. “What kind of bullshit order is that?”

“Right?! So what do you say?”

Her expression turns serious, then she sighs. “Y/N if you think I’m just gonna help you defy Stark’s orders…”

She shakes her head before grinning.

“Then you’re absolutely right.”

You squeal in delight. “Yes!”

“Come on, take my hand.” You take it then she wraps your right arm around her waist--having you side by side--before finally taking flight.

You land in a discreet alley. It’s deserted, but you hear music and smell a variety of aromas nearby.

“Wow. That was not my best idea.” You chuckle, still feeling a little dizzy.

“Yeah? That’s why they say be careful what you wish for.” Carol says smirking.

Oh, Carol Susan Jane. How unfair is it that you manage to look glorious in jeans and a plain black top after a flight like that? You try to reorient yourself with the ground. Momentarily you feel bile rise up, but it subsides.

You follow the scent of promising good food to distract yourself. “God, is that seafood I smell? Please let it be seafood.”

Carol looks incredulous. “Seafood at 8 a.m. Really?”

“What? You the breakfast police?”

“With that choice I think I might be.” She scrunches her face.

Just as you’re about to exit the alley, a round spark materializes before you.

“Wha--” Carol stops in her tracks.

“Damnit!” you mutter just as Stephen emerges from the portal.

This is so uncommon that you take time to process everything. Despite his wizard abilities, Stephen always made sure to travel to New York like a normal person.

“Are you out of your mind?!” He’s not yelling, but the tone of his voice stings. He throws you an accusatory look as the portal behind him closes. He’s clearly mad about something.

“Hey, what’s your problem?” Carol demands.

Stephen turns to her. “Hi, Carol. Now that you’ve asked nicely, let me just say that Tony and I do not appreciate the stunt you pulled just now.” He enunciates his words and offers a sarcastic smile.

Carol is about to argue but you interrupt her. “I asked her to take me here, Stephen.” You glare at him. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

His jaw clenches. “You asked her?”

You raise your eyebrow at him. You stand your ground. You are not repeating yourself.

He looks back and forth between you and Carol and seems to want to say something more, but he doesn’t. He sighs instead and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry. Please, will you come back with me to the Compound?” He takes a step toward you. It’s only then that you get to take in how he’s wearing a pale blue button down paired with dark jeans. His hair’s quite a mess. A hint of stubble already forming.

You want to give him shit for his tone earlier, but you hold it back. Oh, how you missed him! He touches your left arm and snakes his other hand on your waist, eyes pleading.

You’re about to respond when Carol clears her throat. “I’ll meet you back there, Y/N. See you later.” She goes back further down the alley then she’s gone in a flash.

Turning back to him you say, “Okay.”

He leads you out of the alley and you both stand at the sidewalk.

“We’re not going through?” You wonder. You assumed that since that’s how he came here, you’ll portal your way home.

“No. We’re waiting for Happy.”

Your brow furrows but you don’t say anything. Now that you’re reflecting on it, it makes you think. Did something bad happen? Could there be another threat out there? Your blood runs cold.

“Why is this such a big deal?!” You blurt out.

Stephen is not surprised by your sudden exclamation. “Because. Tony wanted you to stay at home. And you defy him by escaping like a--for the lack of a better term--horny teenager.”

“Excuse me?!” You groan. “First of all, he didn’t want me to stay at home. He ordered me to. I don’t know, is this an era where women are treated as objects again?! And second, we made plans! I thought we were gonna stay in today and laze around like we haven’t done in a while. But what do you do? You both cancel. Tony’s chosen some shit project to tinker with again and you’re off to some-God knows-where location, making shitty excuses as to why you can’t come home. So, I’ve settled to do some random thing to entertain myself with and Carol was there. And wow, somehow that’s enough reason for you to show up.”

You usually have your temper under control, but today is different. Once the dam broke, the words just kept rushing out.

Panic and guilt crosses Stephen’s face. Before he could say anything, a black sedan stops in front of you.

You wordlessly climb at the backseat, Stephen following suit.

“Hi, Y/N, Stephen!” Happy greets cheerily.

“Hi, Happy.” You say back lacking the energy. Stephen offers him the same greeting. Sensing the tension, Happy drives away in silence.

You’re looking out your side’s window when you feel Stephen move closer to you. You choose to ignore him, but he takes your right hand and clasp it.

It’s a while before he speaks.

“Sweetheart, baby, please look at me.” He pleads. But you’re stubborn as hell.

He kisses your hair, smells it like he usually does, then moves his lips over the inside of your ear. “Please, sweetheart. I am sorry,” he whispers. The bastard! Warmth spreads from where he whispers those words to the rest of your body. Knowing full well his effect on you, he kisses down to your neck then to the sweet spot near your shoulder.

You stifle a moan and squeeze his thighs. “Okay, okay! Just…” you finally look at him then motion for him to move away a little. You squeeze his hands.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He says again, this time eye to eye.

“Okay.” You whisper.

There’s an intensity that burns in his gaze and before you know it he’s kissing you. At first it’s tender, but then you hug him and suddenly he’s a wild man, hungry, thirsty.

“God, I’ve missed you.” He says as he catches his breath. You’re not even given the chance to reply because he’s kissing you again, fervor all the same. I missed you too, love.

You feel his hands travel down from your hip to your thigh and it makes you weak--you melt in him. The world around you almost disappears, you’re lost in each other, but Happy clears his throat.

The kiss is broken so suddenly that you feel lightheaded. You look out the window as you’re entering the Compound.

“Thanks, Happy.” You say before you step out of the car, Stephen helping you out.

“You’re always welcome, Y/N.” Then he drives off again.

You’ve just entered the foyer when Tony marches towards you, a stern look on his face.

“What were you thinking!?”

You sigh in frustration. You’ve been through this with Stephen. You’re not stressing about it again.

“You’re overreacting, Tony.”

You walk past him and head for the elevator. He’s there close at your heels. Stephen lagging behind.

“I am certainly not! I told you to stay--”

“No. FRIDAY told me. You couldn’t be bothered, remember?” You didn’t intend to make it sound bitter, but it comes out that way.

You begrudgingly press your floor’s button and lean on the wall. It’s just the three of you in the confined space.

“I--”

The elevator dings as you reach your floor, cutting Tony off, and you stomp out towards your apartment.

“Don’t yell at her, Tony.” You hear Stephen say.

“I’m not!” Tony retorts.

You open your door and get in without bothering to look back at them. You close the door behind you.

You trudge to your bed, feeling exhausted all of a sudden and lie down. You hear Tony and Stephen arguing on the other side but their words are muffled by the barrier.

What a morning, you think. Then the arguing stops.

You hear the door open and someone comes in. Tony, you guess. The bed dips behind you and a whiff of metal, fresh linens, pears, wood, and coconut confirms your suspicion.

“Go away,” you grumble.

You feel him lie down too and move over to you. Then a hand wraps around your waist, warmth flooding your back.

“Sweetheart, baby, I’m sorry. You’re right, I overreacted.” He whispers, voice sincere.

What?! Your boyfriends may be unpredictable as hell, but one thing you know for sure is that Tony almost never yields. Never this easily. Your concern from earlier gnaws at you.

You turn to face him, the sudden movement throwing his back on the bed.

“What’s going on? Is something threatening the world again?” You whisper, not really wanting to hear the answer to that.

Tony’s expression changes to confusion. He brings himself up again to one elbow, matching you. “Baby, there’s no threat. Why would you think that?”

You narrow your eyes at him. It’s easy to catch him in a lie, but there’s nothing on his face that indicates he’s lying.

“You and Stephen are acting like there is a threat out there. He came through a portal! He never does that unless it’s an emergency.”

Tony chuckles, but then he sees the panic in your eyes and he caresses your cheek. “Baby, I assure you, everything’s fine.” He kisses your forehead, traces his lips to your nose, then plants a soft kiss to your lips. He looks at you again. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am sure. I promise.” He smiles and your heart is calm again.

The irritation from earlier fades and it’s replaced with a desire to touch him so you do. You let your hands roam and his breath hitches. You smirk, then when you can no longer hold it, kiss him. There’s nothing sweet or innocent about it; you devour him. He kisses back but it’s not the same. There’s no life in it.

You draw back. “What?”

He sighs. Then look past your head, not making eye contact. “Of all people, Carol? Really?”

“Seriously?” You groan, then lie on your back and glare at the ceiling. Stephen didn’t make it an issue--at least not that way--but it’s always a deal with Tony. You look back at him. “She happened to be there, love. Hell, if it was Sam or Rhodey, I’d ask them. I just needed a ride.”

There’s a resigned look on his face. “You couldn’t drive like a normal person?”

You raise your brow at him. “I don’t know, there was this annoying AI ordered by some psycho to trail me. I had to get out, fast.” You attempt to look serious, but fail and laugh instead.

“Psycho, huh?” His voice turns husky. There’s a tingling on your toes. He grabs you closer to him, his hard chest and strong arms blanketing you. He nuzzles your neck and his beard tickles you. You giggle. Something stirs between you and he dips his head and trail kisses further down your neck, eliciting more giggles.

Then the door swings open.

“I knew this was taking longer than necessary.” Stephen walks in, arms crossed.

You try to say something, but you squeal instead because Tony’s not letting up on the kisses.

“Tony, love,” you plead breathless. “Stop it.” You look over his shoulder and see Stephen standing there, unmoving. Help, you mouth at him.

Just punch him, he mouths back, miming a left jab and donning a wicked grin on his face.

Your giggles turns to a boisterous laugh. Tony looks up at you then to Stephen. He frowns and sits up. “Honey, must you ruin this for me? You’ve had your turn.”

Stephen’s grin is wiped from his face and your eyes widen. Tony smirks. “You two never learn, do you?” He looks pointedly at Stephen. “I taste you so easily on her,” he turns to you, “and vice versa.”

“Well I’ve missed him so bad. You know he’s almost never around.” You say defensively.

“Hey!” Stephen protests, betrayed. He walks over to the bed and sits at the edge. “And don’t you give me crap about being unable to control kissing our girl, honey. You’re the one who’s always here with her and you manage to take it for granted every damn time.”

“No, I don’t.” Tony replies, hurt in his eyes.

They stare each other down before Stephen lets out an exasperated sigh. “This is not how we planned for today to go.”

Tony offers him a small smile. “No, it’s not.” He reaches out for Stephen’s hand and they interlace their fingers.

“Does this mean we can stay all day in bed like we intended to?” You whisper.

“Yes, sweetheart. But first we have to show you something,” Stephen says. He stands and Tony hops off the bed. They both look at you expectantly.

“I don’t know, I’m kind of really loving where I am right now.” You dramatically dissolve into the mattress, faking a yawn.

Tony chuckles. “Come now, baby. We’ll have all the time later. I promise. And I mean it this time.”

You sit up abruptly and hop off. “Oooh, I love it when you mean things.” You look at them both. “Let’s go then.”

Tony brings you to his Invention Lair, as you called it. It’s darker here, more blue and other colored lights from devices aglow than there is natural light.

You rarely come down here, mostly because when Tony tinkers, he’s not really your Tony. You glance at Stephen and you figure he has the same thoughts. He’s regarding the space like you do--feeling more intruding than visiting.

He stops at a dark section and turns to face you. You notice the nervous look he sneaks on Stephen before looking back at you.

“Y/N, baby, I love you. We both love you.”

Whatever he wanted to say, that is not what you expect. “I love you too,” you’re confused and surprised so the reply comes out a faint whisper. “You’re scaring me, what’s going on?”

Tony takes a deep breath, then turns on the light. At the center of the cramped room is a futuristic looking box. It’s hard to tell at first because the whole thing is transparent, but light catches on the soft curved edges, making its outline known. At this angle you see that it’s hollow--a box without a cover.

“Okay I don’t want to sound stupid but… it’s a box.”

Tony grins. “Not quite.” He grabs a small rectangular device from the table nearby and presses something. There’s a whirring sound before the box lights up a soft blue glow. You realize the transparent--is that glass? acrylic?--sides are screens, letters, numbers and icons glowing.

“Wow. That’s..” You try to find the word to describe it but fail. You still can’t figure out what that thing is.

You hear Stephen sniffle behind you and say, “It’s a crib.”

“A crib.” You repeat.

“Yes.” Tony’s voice croaks. As if this day couldn’t get any weirder, you see him teary-eyed. “Honey?” He looks past you at Stephen.

You feel Stephen walk up to you and he takes your hand, cupping your cheek with his other one.

“Sweetheart, baby… we think you’re pregnant.”

You feel your heart skip a beat. What Stephen says doesn’t register immediately because the world stills; you forget to breathe.

“You think I’m what?!” It comes out in a rush. Panic evident.

They both look at you, a weird combination of determination and nervousness in their eyes, but they don’t say anything.

“No” Not denial, just a plain statement. “I’m supposed to know more about that, right?” Uncertainty, a trembling voice.

They exchange a glance. “Sweetheart, you remember how you’ve been crazy about avocado your entire life?” Tony asks, walking close to you. “Then suddenly, last week after I’ve bought you an entire batch of them, you can’t stop retching?”

“I think we agreed that was a bad batch.” Your voice quivers.

Tony smiles a soft smile. “You’ve been having nausea for two weeks now.”

You had, but you always assumed that was all the stress and random food you’ve been eating lately.

“And may I remind you of the heart attack you almost gave Sergeant Barnes when you fainted in the middle of that recon mission in Bogotá last Sunday? He thought you were dying when you had extreme cramps in the quinjet on the way home.” Stephen chimes in. He turns to Tony, “You’d think we’re the drama queens--then there’s Barnes.”

Tony raises his brows at that. “Focus, honey.”

Stephen turns back to you, hope shines in his eyes. “How late are you, baby?”

You’re blindsided by the question because you haven’t thought much about it until now. Oh. Could it really be? God. How late am I? You wrack your brain as you trace the last you remember of your period. Shit. Has it really been two months?

You don’t realize you’re crying until Stephen croons. “Shhh, sweetheart, we’re here. It’s okay.” He wraps you in a hug. Somehow it makes you cry harder.

Is this the moment they write about in songs? One about finding something you thought you’d never find? Could I really deserve this kind of happiness? And just as you ask that, dread washes over.

“Oh, love,” you say to both of them, in between sobs. “I want this so bad. I never thought I’d want it but I do know now. But… what if you’re wrong?” You regret saying it because the fear that grips your heart is unimaginable.

Tony kisses the top of your head. “Then baby, let’s find out.”

Your world swirls. Ten weeks. At least that’s what Dr. Varshavski--Stephen’s friend--said. You’ve been carrying a new life for that long.

You’re seated at the doctor’s office. Unlike the hospital halls, Dr. Varshavski’s space is homey. Stephen and Tony has been barraging the young doctor with questions but you’re having a hard time focusing, lost in your thoughts.

I’m going to be a mom. Technically, I am already.

“Sweetheart?” Tony asks, rubbing your back. Your reverie is interrupted.

“What? I’m-I’m so sorry. I was just…” you stammer.

Stephen touches your hand reassuringly. “Baby, did you hear what Viktor said?”

“No, I’m sorry.” Tears fall again before you could stop yourself. “I’m so so so sorry. I should be more responsible than this. And now I’m just a mess.”

Viktor’s eyes are soft, understanding. “It’s okay, Y/N. I was just informing Stephen and Tony that what you have right now is a rare pregnancy.”

You nod. “Rare how?”

“It’s called superfetation. It’s a phenomenon when an already pregnant woman conceives again, leaving the development of two embryos of different ages. In your case, the two are three weeks apart.”

You freeze. Two? I didn’t even think I deserved one and now I got two? The thought scares you to death and warms your heart at the same time.

“That’s…” you start sobbing again but this time you don’t care. “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Stephen agrees, tears in his eyes.

It’s an imbroglio, the three of you. Crying and trying to touch as much of each other in the small space.

Another thought occurs to you. “Wait, how do we know whose is it?”

Viktor smiles. “We’ll have to do more tests, but as these two asked me earlier, the superfetation case makes it possible for the two to have different fathers.”

Your eyes widen. You look at Stephen.

“Sweetheart, that’s science working right there. The case is rare, but there have been similar occurrences in the past. Before I came here, I was actually visiting one of those cases.”

“Oh.” You turn to the doctor. “Will.. they be safe?”

“You’ll have to come in for regular check ups, of course. But so long as there are no complications, it’s generally a normal pregnancy.”

You nod wordlessly. Stephen and Tony have a few more questions before you are sent home. The drive back to the Compound is silent, as is the elevator ride to your apartment. You sit on the bed.

“You were busy because of that futuristic crib project of yours.” You regard Tony. He nods.

“And you were away again because of research for… this?” You ask Stephen. He nods.

“That’s why you were both freaking out.” Then the sobbing comes again. “Oh God… *sob* I’ve been giving you… *hiccup* crap about cancelling today and now I’m actually *sobs* the crappy one in all this.”

They huddle over you. “Baby, you’re carrying our kids. You’re more than allowed to be anything you want.” Stephen kisses your hair.

“And you’re stubborn as hell, but never crappy.” Tony teases.

You laugh softly. “It scares me to be this happy.”

“As it does scare us, baby.” They say.

You lie down, feet still dangling at the side of the bed. They do the same, all three of you staring at the ceiling.

“I love you.” It’s always Stephen who says it first; a man who knows the power of time and the things it can take in an instant.

“I love you.” Your turn always comes next; a reply to one and a declaration to the other.

“I love you.” Tony says last; always the one who says it with the most passion, the most meaning--it resonates until the next time you’re together.

Then, for the first time ever, a fourth one. “I love you.” You say again, touching your belly.

175 notes · View notes