#just bc i had tagged in TWO SPOTS in the tag section sure

[otrtbs]

whenever someone tells me they missed the mcd tag in ahb! i’m like 😔 oh you don’t love me and you want me die 🥀 got it 💔

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter XVII.

GIF by darksber

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Obligatory storm chapter.

WORD COUNT: ~13.4k

RATING: 18+ Explicit topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: the crime plot is slowly but surely progressing, smut, a very wet blowjob, p in v sex, dirty talk bc duh, using panties as a gag, praise praise praise, javi being soft and vulnerable my god, STEVE MURPHY MENTION!!, if there's typos/grammatical errors just pretend that there's not, other things that i'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: i'm just absolutely feral over these two... that is all <3 as always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3 [ paloma's piano song ]

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Javier wanders through the quiet aisles of the library, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet as he makes his way towards the now familiar astronomy section.

He pauses occasionally, eyes scanning the titles on the spines of countless books, searching for something that might hold the answers he’s looking for. 

What begun as a mere attempt to impress Paloma had unexpectedly blossomed into a genuine interest. It was during a reading on lunar cycles that a sudden gut feeling prompted him to revisit the case files.

And there, in the minutest of details, he spotted a new pattern.

Each date of the murders fell in perfect alignment with the full moon phase. This illuminated the otherwise randomness of the crimes—one girl per month, precisely when the moon shone its brightest. 

He read over the files at home, searching for any significance the moon held within the context of the original group, but found nothing. This raised a crucial question: Is this the same group resurfacing, or a new player putting his own spin on things? Understanding this pattern isn’t just a matter of detail; it’s essential for deciphering the motive.

The slow progress of the investigation is frustrating, with each discovery taking its sweet fucking time to unfold. But at least this is some kind of development.

“Did you find what you were lookin’ for?” Paloma’s whisper catches his attention, drawing him from his focused search. He glances through the narrow gaps between the shelves and books to find her standing on the other side. Her dazzling brown eyes meet his, a warm smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah, actually,” he scratches at his jaw, “She’s standin’ on the other side of this thing.” Flirtatious as ever, he’s pleasantly surprised to see her. She hadn’t mentioned working today during their phone call last night.

Then again she might’ve, but after talking her through an orgasm then finishing in his own fist shortly after, Javier was more focused on reeling himself in from how good her pretty little voice sounded while she was whispering pure filth into the receiver. 

Part of her face is hidden, yet he doesn’t miss the entertained expression that dances across her features.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any books on the moon, would you?” He asks, trying not to let his mind drift to the sounds of her moans and pants over the static of the phone.

“I don’t think there are any libraries on the moon,” she banters playfully, “but we can always call the NASA hotline and ask.” Her teasing has him rolling his eyes, yet he can’t hold back a lopsided smile.

“Alright, smart ass, you know what I meant.”

She laughs softly, her amusement barely contained as she tries not to disturb the other patrons. “Yeah, we got a couple. They’re on this side, though.”

He licks his lips slowly, narrowing his gaze. “Really? Because I see a few right here.” He pulls out two books that had caught his eye before she arrived, holding them up for her to see.

“Yeah, but there are better ones over here.” Paloma’s voice is inviting as she slowly starts to move down the aisle, her presence a tempting distraction, and he follows like a desperate puppy.

They reach the end of the row, and now her eyes narrow teasingly, silently urging him to make the first move.

Which he does, obviously.

Rounding the tall shelf, he wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her close. The warmth of his body against hers is very welcomed, and she looks up at him with bright eyes that are swimming in excitement.

“You’re very lucky there ain’t no cameras back here,” Paloma breathes out in a hushed tone. He presses her back against the flat end of the wooden surface, gazing down at her.

She bites her lip and his eyes lock onto the movement, bringing his thumb up to gently pull the flesh from between her teeth. “Lucky me,” he murmurs, dipping his head to place a tender kiss on her cheek.

She pouts. “Really? Just on the cheek?”

“You make it so hard to be normal about this.” Javi leans in to kiss her properly, her lips warm and soft, tasting faintly of the coffee she had earlier.

His forearm rests against the shelf, towering over her, hip jutting out slightly. In his other hand, he easily holds the two books.

The sound of their kiss breaking has her blushing, hoping no one was nearby to hear it. Thank God this area of the library is usually a dead zone.

Her eyes fall to the items he’s holding. “Still keepin’ up with this shtick?” she jests, unable to help herself from doing so. Her laughter tapers off quickly when he shoots her a hardened look.

“Sorry,” she manages between snickers. “That was rude. M’glad you’re actually enjoyin’ it.”

“This shtick helped me notice a pattern. It’s why I’m here, actually. Looking for more information before I reach out to the professor at UCLA again.”

Paloma reaches out to play with the golden star pinned to his chest, her fingers tracing its edges as she listens intently. “What’s the pattern?” she looks up at him with genuine curiosity.

He explains, and she is truly awestruck at how intricate it all really is. It’s the same feeling she got after watching the press conference. “When’s the next full moon?”

“In two days.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know,” he admits with a sigh, “Maybe enforcing a curfew. Make sure everyone is safe and at home. That won’t be very difficult to do considering the storm that’s headed this way.”

When it rains, it pours. The last time their little town had seen any type of precipitation was the day of Nina’s funeral, and that seems like it was forever ago. Now, they’re being warned of some pretty strong winds and potential flooding.

“Then maybe nothin’ll happen,” she suggests, her voice hopeful.

“I sure fucking hope so,” Javi’s eyes drift to the nearest window where he sees the gray clouds gathering in the distance.

He’s frowning, lost in thought, and she reaches out to get him to look at her again. “No need to get all frowny. Save all that for the town hall later tonight.”

Javier exhales sharply through his nose, rolling his shoulders, his attention back on her. “You excited to see your future husband?”

She knows he’s talking about the mayor, yet she can’t help the way her heart flutters at the idea of that being him. She shakes those delusions away as his brown eyes hold an expectant stare.

“Y’know I could say yes ‘n use this as an opportunity to piss you off, but I’m bein’ good today—so I’m as excited to see him as you are to have to be up there with him.”

“You’re bein’ good today?” He cocks his head to the side, staring down at her with a roguish smile. “And you wouldn’t get very far with trying to piss me off. I know that asshole has nothing on me.”

“I’m always good, Javi,” she purrs, though her tone suggests otherwise. Her eyes darken slightly as she hooks her fingers onto his duty belt, pulling him closer.

His knee moves between her thighs, and she silently curses the fact that she wore jeans to work today. “You might think that, but we dunno know for sure… still gotta try him out myself. See if it really compares.”

The arm that was resting against the shelf comes down, and he wraps his fingers around her throat, holding her with a tantalizing pressure that gets her wet and throbbing.

A gentle moan sneaks past her lips. “You wanna ‘try him out,’ be my guest, nena. I don’t give a fuck.”

“Really, ‘cause it feels like you do,” she quips, her fingers grazing the growing bulge between them.

Javier’s grip on her throat tightens ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing with a possessive intensity. “Cálmate,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl.

“Make me.”

They’re jolted back to reality when a bang echoes from nearby, the sharp sound enough to have him loosen his hold and pull back from her. “Like I said, you make it real fucking hard to be normal about this. ‘I’m always good, Javi’ my ass,” he mocks her with a wry smile.

She giggles, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, as she bites down on her thumb. The sight of him flustered only entertains her further. “M’sorry… can’t help but poke the bear.”

Their moment is further interrupted by the abrupt static of his walkie-talkie coming to life. An officer’s voice garbles through, requesting his assistance with a disturbance at the grocery store.

“Be right there,” Javier responds flatly, his mood shifting as he hands her the books he plucked out. “Weather’s got people acting like fucking idiots. I’ll come back for these later.”

“Don’t sweat it,” she reassures him, clutching them to her chest. “I’ll bring ‘em tonight. Give ‘em to you after the meetin’.”  She’s visibly bummed that their time together is cut short, but remains optimistic about seeing him again. Soon, hopefully. Maybe on another date.

“Thank you, baby. I’ll see you then.” Javier leans in for a departing kiss, this one softer and sweeter. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of him calling her baby or any of the other terms of endearment that he has for her.

He adds a gentle nuzzle of his nose against hers before pulling away and making his exit, leaving her feeling all lovestruck against the bookshelf.

He knew the meeting was going to be a shit show. After putting out all relevant information through the press conference, the department has never been busier. Phones ringing left and right with false accusations, bullshit information, and the occasional prank call.

Partially expected but annoying nevertheless. No progress, aside from his own little lunar revelation, has been made.

So it makes sense that the people of Seminary are currently acting out in the stands of the high school’s gym. An unorthodox place to meet, but the rain had exposed leaks in the government building’s weathered roof so they had to improvise and move it here.

Javier leans against the fold out table that is placed right in the middle of the basketball court, arms crossed, watching Jonah Abbott deflect every question thrown his way, answering with something completely unrelated. Typical politician.

He rubs at his temples, craving a cigarette. His eyes scan the crowd until he sees Paloma sitting on the far left side, their gazes meeting and her mouth curving into a small smile which has him feeling a little less miserable about being here.

That is until the crowd starts to get riled up again, being very vocal about their gripes with the murders, as if officials haven’t been working tirelessly to figure things out.

The girl in the hospital remains unconscious and unidentified—who knows when she’ll wake up.

Another dead end just as they thought they were gaining some traction. Their knowledge of the occult only takes them so far.

Fear and anger envelop the room with an oppressive weight, voices escalating, each question sharper and more accusatory than the one before as frustration boils over.

“How can we expect y’all to keep us safe if more dead girls are bein’ found left and right?!” a man shouts, pointing his crooked finger at the three of them.

“This is what happens when we stray from the Lord ‘n quit instillin’ His will onto our children!” an elderly woman with an actual Bible clutched to her chest cries out.

“Maybe s’best if we took matters into our own hands ‘n found this son of a bitch ourselves!” another voice yells, and murmurs of agreement ripple through the crowd.

His jaw tightens. He’s well aware that the deep-seated religious beliefs of this town run strong; and the murders, with their disturbing satanic imagery, have only heightened the community’s fears and suspicions. 

“Folks, I understand your frustration,” Jonah starts and this gets an eye roll out of Javi who plays it off by looking down at his boots, “We’re doin’ everythin’ in our power to find who’s responsible for these heinous crimes. But takin’ the law into your own hands is not. the. answer. It’ll only lead to more chaos and possibly more innocent people gettin’ hurt.”

“The law ain’t doin’ nothin’ but sittin’ back ‘n lettin’ it happen!”

Comments and questions fly at them from all directions, with smaller arguments erupting on either side of the gym. Javier and Romeo exchange a knowing look, silently expressing their shared annoyance.

The sheriff steps up, taking control to regain the order that the incompetent mayor had lost.

“What’s important right now is that we all get prepared for the bad weather that’s hittin’ us pretty bad these next couple of days. S’already startin’ to pick up outside now,” Romeo announces, his deep voice cutting through the chaos.

Quiet murmurs fill the space, the faint sound of rain hitting the roof almost amplified now that it has been pointed out.

“Most of the town is gonna be shuttin’ down tomorrow at midday, so I suggest gettin’ your essentials and supplies tonight or in the mornin’ before you’re shit out of luck,” he continues, his tone brooking no room for nonsense.

His crassness serves its purpose, smothering most of the arguments from before. He motions for his right hand man to continue, and Javier clears his throat, straightening his posture and pushing himself off the table.

“We will be upping patrols and enforcing a curfew after the storm passes through,” His voice reverberates through the room, steady and authoritative. “The anonymous tip line is still running in case anyone sees or hears anything out of the ordinary.”

Javier scans the crowd, making eye contact with as many people as he can, trying to convey his sincerity and determination.

“We understand that these are frightenin’ times,” The sheriff interjects. “We’re dealin’ with somethin’ unprecedented, ‘n it’s natural to feel scared or frustrated. ‘Specially when they’re bastardizin’ the word of God. But we need to stand together, support one another, and trust that we are doin’ everythin’ in our power to bring this person to justice.”

The room is silent now, the only sound is the soft patter of rain and the distant rumble of thunder.

Javier notices Paloma again, her eyes fixed on him like he’s the only person in the world, and he almost stumbles over his words as he continues with the more procedural part of the announcement.

“We’re also working closely with weather experts to monitor the storm. We’ll keep you updated with any new information as it comes in. In the meantime, stay vigilant, look out for your neighbors, and follow the curfew to ensure everyone’s safety.”

The townspeople nod, their faces a mix of concern and reluctant acceptance. He knows that words alone won’t be enough to quell their fears, but he hopes that this assembly has at least provided some clarity and direction.

After a few more closing remarks, the meeting ends, and Abbott wastes no time approaching him and the sheriff. “That was great work, gentlemen. Lost ‘em for a second there, but you two wrangled ‘em back under control. S’why I got the best of the best…” his words are slick, and Javier can see right through the man’s bullshit, “that will hopefully bring an end to all this madness soon, right?”

Abbott doesn’t care about the town’s safety—he just wants the murders solved so the media attention goes away. The newfound scrutiny is clearly bothering him.

Apparently there is such thing as bad press.

“We’re workin’ as hard as we can,” Romeo replies curtly, his voice tight with barely restrained irritation.

Javier quickly bows out to ‘prevent any dispute from breaking out in the parking lot’ but really, it’s because he knows he won’t be able to hold his tongue against the arrogant mayor if he’s around him any longer.

He positions himself by the large exit double doors as the crowd files out. Javi nods to those he recognizes from the bar or his frequent patrols in town. The weight of their expectations adds to the already heavy burden on his shoulders.

Just another part of the fucking job.

When the last person exits, he chains the doors closed and jogs over to his truck.

The rain falls gently, wetting his hair and sending droplets running down the roughened texture of his bomber jacket.

“Here are your books, space cowboy.” Paloma’s voice catches him by surprise. She seems to appear out of thin air, a colorful umbrella shielding her from the rain.

“Gracias, palomita,” he takes them from her and puts them in the cab of his truck.

“Tough crowd,” she remarks, looking around as more cars pull out, leaving the lot empty.

“They’re just scared. Fear makes people act out like that.”

“You handled it well. Unlike others…” Her tone carries a hint of amusement, eyeing his wet appearance and how the raindrops fall from the curve of his nose and the cut of his cheekbones. So dreamy.

He chuckles dryly, “Tell me about it.”

Just as the conversation begins to drift into flirtatious territory, Romeo’s car pulls up beside them with the window rolled down.

Javier is glad he resisted the urge to step forward and kiss her in the rain, though he knows she would have liked that.

Her father? Probably not so much.

“Finally got Abbott to stop runnin’ his mouth. S’like talkin’ to a spoiled brat,” he complains, clearly frustrated.

Paloma finds this interesting, especially given how he used to advocate for her to give Jonah a shot and go out on one date with him.

It never happened, and now her father’s irritation is almost a satisfying twist.

“You campin’ out in that dogshit trailer of yours?” Romeo asks Javier, shifting the conversation.

“Don’t have much of a choice.”

“You’re better off stayin’ with us.”

The comment throws him off but he doesn’t convey it, gaze flickering over to Paloma, who has an encouraging look already in her eyes.

Accept the fucking invite! It’s a dangerous, dangerous game, but one he’s foolish enough to be tempted to play.

“You sure?” Javi asks, a subtle trace of hesitation in his voice.

“Positive. Got more than enough room. Beats bein’ hunkered down with just this one,” Romeo jokes, glancing at his daughter.

“Jeez, daddy, thanks,” she playfully shakes her head, a smile tugging at her lips as she rounds the car and gets into the passenger seat, closing and shaking off her wet umbrella.

“Alright,” he concedes and she’s over the freaking moon, “Thanks. I appreciate it. See you all tomorrow.”

Romeo nods in acknowledgement and Paloma winks at him behind her father’s back.

She is kneeling over her plants when Javier shows up the following day. The rain from last night and this morning has finally let up, and she’s using this pocket of dryness to put row covers over her garden to shield it from the severe weather.

“I’ve always admired a girl who likes to get her hands dirty,” he says from behind her with a cocky grin. She turns to face him, mud covering her overalls and caking her rain boots.

“How original,” she replies, wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her gloved hand, smearing some dirt there in the process. “So damn humid, feels like the devil’s ballsack out today.”

Javi chuckles and steps closer, affectionately wiping the dirt from her forehead. “You have a way with words, sweetheart. Where’s your dad?”

“Went to get a few last-minute things ‘fore town closed up.”

“So I can kiss you without having to look over my shoulder?”

“Dunno if you wanna do all that when I’m dirtied up like this.”

“I think you wear the mud real nice,” he murmurs, pulling her to him. He places a wet kiss on her lips, which she reciprocates without hesitation, her tongue breaching his mouth.

“Guess I’m not too dirty for you after all,” she whispers when they part, a flirtatious simper ghosting over her mouth.

“Never that, preciosa. Do I need to remind you how dirty you were over the phone the other night?” he raises a brow, voice dropping to a low timbre that sends a thrill up her spine.

“You might, actually…” Her pulse quickens, a flush creeping up her neck as she recalls their late-night conversation.

It was the first time she’d ever done anything like that, and while she felt a bit embarrassed at the start, Javier’s soothing, erotic guidance had turned it into something fucking incredible. Everything he does is fucking incredible.

He hums appreciatively, “Wouldn’t mind that,” his fingers brush a stray strand of hair away from her face.

He leans in again, capturing her lips in another kiss. His hands slide down to her hips, tracing the exposed skin along the side openings of her overalls, squeezing gently.

Paloma could really die a happy woman in his arms. 

Javier groans softly, the sound vibrating against her mouth, making her knees weak. “I should help you finish covering these plants before the storm hits,” his tone makes it clear he’s struggling to pull himself away from her. “Before your dad gets home.” He clarifies. 

“Yeah, you probably should,” she agrees, but not without placing a sweet peck to his chin.

As if she needed his help, but hey, when a man is willing; why not unload some of the labor onto him? 

She hands him a row cover, her fingers lingering on his as they exchange the material. “Can’t have ya standin’ around lookin’ all pretty while I do all the hard work.” She beams.

“We certainly can’t have that,” there’s a grin on his face as he moves to help her finish the task.

Javier’s hands are deft and strong as he secures the covers, getting dirtied up and looking straight up manly. It has her clit tingling with arousal, imagining his fingers inside of her again and how fucking amazing they felt when she rode them in the bed of his truck. 

Between his uniformed presence and country boy charm—this man is going to be the death of her.

His eyes never stray far from her, drinking in every detail of her mud-splattered appearance as she moves between planter boxes.

She catches him looking each time, sending a wink his way and his tongue pokes against his cheek bashfully.

He can’t help it, Paloma is just so beautiful.

A piece of wood, obscured by the mud, has Javier tripping over it, his feet betraying him as he loses balance on the slick, muddy ground.

Her hands fly up to cover her mouth in shock, eyes wide as she watches him go down, mud splattering everywhere.

She almost bursts into laughter but catches herself, the worry for him outweighing the amusement.

“Oh my goodness gracious, are you okay?!” she rushes towards him and discards her gloves.

Javier lies on his back, the cold, wet mud oozing through his shirt and coating his skin. He looks up at her, squinting one eye close. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he grunts, despite the faint ache he feels at his lower back.

Sitting up, he extends his hand towards her to get him back on his feet.

As soon as their hands touch, he seizes the moment. With a mischievous grin, he yanks her down with him.

She gasps, a startled shriek escaping her lips as she tumbles into the thick, squelchy mud beside him. 

“I knew you were goin’ to do that!” she exclaims with exasperation and laughter.

“And yet you still tried to help me up anyway,” he retorts with a playful smirk.

With a flick of her wrist, she sends a handful of mud flying at him. It lands squarely on his cheek, sliding down in a comical, slow-motion descent until it plops into a heap on his lap.

“Oops,” she says with a feigned innocence.

In mere moments, they’re both engulfed in a muddy, joyful chaos. They spring to their feet and Javier begins to chase her around the garden, both of them taking turns flinging mud at each other.

They’re so engrossed in their antics that they don’t notice Romeo’s return.

The sight of them through the large bay window in the kitchen catches him off guard. He furrows his brows, puzzled and slightly amused by the raucous scene.

“Y’all look like a pair ‘a pigs runnin’ around like this.” her father’s voice rings out, dripping with bemusement as he descends the back porch steps.

His sturdy boots thud against the wooden planks when he approaches, gaze sweeping over them, taking in the sight of their disheveled, mud-coated figures.

“Javi slipped tryin’ to help me put the covers on and it was the funniest thing ever,” Paloma explains, her voice a little too high-pitched as she fails to clean herself up completely, wiping at her muddy cheeks, only managing to spread it further.

“Well, I reckon that’s one way to make a mess of things,” Romeo drawls, his gaze fixed on Javier with a pointed, almost accusatory edge.

Javier, caked in mud and feeling every bit like an overgrown teenager caught in trouble, manages a self-deprecating laugh. “Guess I’m not as graceful as I thought.”

He knows he needs to have the awkward conversation sooner rather than later. He has to tell Romeo about his relationship with Paloma and face whatever fallout comes with it.

She insists that her father will eventually come around, but it’s the immediate, explosive reaction that he dreads. He has to brace himself for the storm of anger and disappointment that is sure to erupt.

It won’t happen today nor tomorrow—not when he’s been offered shelter under his roof that Javi had stupidly agreed to, just to be near his fucking daughter.

What’s romance without a little risk?

“Well shit, if you wanna rinse off, I’d give it about…” Romeo glances up at the sky, his eyes calculating the darkening clouds. “Ten minutes ‘fore it starts raining again. Or you can use the hose,” he adds, gesturing towards the garden hose coiled beside the shed. 

“M’not gonna get caught in the storm. Don’t wanna get shocked up. We’ll use the hose.” Paloma replies.

“Right,” he grunts, rubbing his jaw. He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I gotta finish puttin’ everythin’ away inside. Sure I can trust y’all out here?”

What a loaded fucking question.

“We’ll be fine, daddy. S’just a little mud.”

“I’ll try not to slip again,” Javier adds with a dry laugh, hoping he didn’t just make himself look like a clumsy idiot in front of the older man.

The sheriff snorts and gives a curt nod. “Alright then, you do that. Don’t need y’all trackin’ muck into the house.” He mutters, turning on his heel and heading back inside. 

Javier watches him go, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he turns to Paloma. “Skatin’ on thin ice,” he says, beginning to walk towards the shed and trying to get some of the wet dirt off him.

Paloma’s smile fades slightly, a hint of frustration edging her words. “Wouldn’t be if someone––”

“Okay,” he cuts her off gently, already knowing where that conversation is headed. “Let’s rinse off before he comes back out here and kicks my ass.”

She huffs out a laugh, “Fine. Glad you knew where I was goin’ with that.”

Javier reaches for the hose, adjusting the nozzle to a gentle spray, then aims it at her soiled overalls. The cool water hits the fabric, making the mud dissolve into dark, swirling rivulets. As the grime starts to wash away, he moves methodically, making sure to hit every spot.

Paloma watches him, her heart warming at his careful attention. The water cascades down her clothes, revealing glimpses of her soft curves beneath the mess.

When he’s done, she takes the hose from him with a mischievous grin. “Mi turno.”

As she works, she decides to be bold by reaching out to touch him. Her fingers brush against his skin and Javier’s throat bobs, meeting her eyes with a wary look then glancing over her shoulder to make sure Romeo wasn’t watching them from the house.

“Thin. Ice.” He repeats.

“Live a little,” she counters with a playful lilt.

She leans in closer, her wet body brushing against his as she continues to rinse. The proximity feels like a charged exchange of impulsiveness since they both can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, even with the looming threat of her father’s presence just inside. 

When she finishes, Paloma sets the hose down, her fingers lingering longer than necessary, his shirt clinging to his torso, accentuating the lines of his muscles, luring her in.

She looks up at him. “All clean.”

“You want him to kill me.”

“No, this is just fun… ‘n I love seein’ you squirm like a lil worm.”

He licks across the bottom row of his teeth, “You keep fuckin’ around like this, nena, and I’ll have no choice but to put you in your place.” She wants him to squirm, fine, but he’ll make sure to return that energy tenth fold.

“That a promise?”

“You really want to see how far you can push me, huh?”

“Un poco.” She pinches her thumb and pointer finger together, mocking him and he scoffs.

“Gettin’ in over your head babygirl. Now’s not the time to do this, not when I can’t bend you over and fuck you stupid. Then you wouldn’t have a choice but to shut up and be compliant.”

Oh fuck, his words go straight to her pussy and her heart skips a beat. “Who says you can’t do that?”

Javier groans. Nope, not doing this right now. “You’re baiting me like a fuckin’ fish and I’m not gettin’ hooked. Inside. Go.”

She smirks like she’s just won the fucking lottery, stomping back towards the house with her chin held high.

If anyone is in over their heads here it’s him, accepting Romeo’s invitation to stay knowing Paloma is his greatest temptation.

The rest of the afternoon unfolds with a sense of normalcy, despite the tempest raging outside. The sky has grown dark, pierced by occasional flashes of lightning that illuminate the living room. Thunder rumbles intermittently, its low growl resonating through the house, while the wind howls and the rain pelts against the windows, creating a rhythmic drumming sound that is soothing yet insistent.

Inside, the atmosphere is comforting. After showering off their mess from the mud, they settle into the warmth of the house.

Paloma busies herself in the kitchen, preparing an early dinner just in case the power goes out. 

They used to have a back up generator, but it crapped out on them last year and her father, ever the forgetful one, never got around to replacing it.

Javier and Romeo are engrossed in a tense card game at the dining table, their competitive banter punctuated by the clinking of chips and the shuffling of cards.

They sneak glances at each other every so often, their eyes conveying what they can’t say aloud.

Lingering touches become their secret language—his fingers brushing her arm when he scoots past her to grab another beer from the fridge, her body pressing subtly against his as she reaches over to grab something from the table.

If there was ever a time to show restraint, it’s now. She treats this as a game, trying to get him to break in front of her father, to force him into a confrontation.

Her eyes sparkle with mischief, daring him to give in. He meets her gaze with a steady determination, silently promising that he won’t let her win so easily.

Eventually the three of them migrate to the living room. Romeo, having suggested an old movie to pass the time, is sprawled out on the couch, his snores becoming a steady background noise.

The movie plays on the screen, its dialogue a distant murmur amidst the storm. It’s a miracle the power hasn’t gone out yet.

Paloma uses this brief respite to seize a moment alone with Javier.

Quietly beckoning him down the hall, she leads him to the family dining room where a grand piano sits in the corner. It was a gift from the church, given to her on her tenth birthday.

After flicking on the lamp, she settles onto the bench, her fingers poised above the keys with a delicate grace.

She begins to play, her touch tentative at first, then gradually more confident as the familiar notes fill the room.

Javier leans against the door frame, mesmerized by the scene before him. He watches her intently, captivated by the subtle expressions that flit across her face as she listens to each note, her eyes closed in concentration.

He breaks the spell with a gentle question, “How long have you been playing?”

She glances over at him, her expression wistful. “Ever since I could, really. Momma wasted no time in teachin’ me.” Her voice carries a touch of nostalgia, a subtle sadness that she hopes goes unnoticed.

She’s relieved when Javier doesn’t press further. Instead, he simply nods, his understanding evident in his gaze.

“Come sit,” Paloma invites, her voice honeyed like it always is. She shifts slightly on the bench, patting the empty space beside her.

Javier moves to join her, their shoulders brushing. He’s too damn broad to be sitting on this small ass seat.

He does feels a flutter of excitement at hearing her like this. It’s different from her shows at the bar, more intimate and personal, reminding him of that time in the shed when he was fixing her car and she played her guitar.

The memory of her song about Nina, which she hasn’t brought up since that day, lingers in his mind.

“It ain’t anythin’ new, just an old song I wrote after George,” she begins, and a small, sad smile touches her lips. He wants to kiss it away. “It’s my favorite to play on the piano. You can really feel the heartbreak.”

“Your heartbreak?” he asks, the question slipping out before he can catch it. He bites the inside of his lip, worried that he’s overstepped somehow.

“Mhm,” she doesn’t mind, opening the folder that rests against the music desk and pulling out her short-hand sheet music. “Took me so long to finish it. I was stuck on this bench for what felt like an eternity before I got it done.”

He doesn’t know what to say and she doesn’t expect him to be necessarily chatty. They’re taking turns showing their vulnerability, sharing a little at a time at a pace that seems to be benefiting them both and their relationship.

The room is filled with the soft, melodic strains of the piano as she starts again, blending with the patter of rain and rumbling of the thunder. Her voice joins shortly after, and the entire time Javier can’t keep his eyes off her. 

Beneath the warmth of his admiration, Paloma feels oh so exposed. She’s never played this for anyone before, and the only reason she’s doing it now is because she wants him to understand why it’s so important to her that he doesn’t love her in secret. That he doesn’t string her along.

She’s already been through that heartbreak before, and it left her with this nasty, harrowing feeling that didn’t go away for years. Now, considering everything they’ve been through, she knows she won’t be able to recover if things go awry again.

And he listens—Javi listens to each word that falls from her lips, her voice soft to compliment their surroundings.

She’s got real talent; he’s known that from the dozens of times he’s been at her shows, hell it was evident at the fair. But here, with just her voice and the piano, weaving a story that is both haunting and beautiful; she’s opened herself up to him, letting him glimpse her pain.

She doesn’t do it in a verbal confrontation; she does it in her own way, and the message comes across just the same.

Sure, Javier might not be good with words, but he doesn’t need them to let her in. He just needs to lower his guard and not hide from her or any of his past grievances.

He’s never met anyone who makes him self-reflect as much as she does.

As the final notes fade into the quiet, the sounds of the weather seamlessly take their place. Paloma’s fingers linger on the keys as she turns to look at him, “What’d ya think?”

Javier reaches out, stroking her cheek affectionately. “Increíble, cariño. Can’t imagine how hard it was for you to go through that.” he replies, words laden with sincerity.

A small yet genuine smile paints itself on her face and she shrugs lightly, “It was tough, but I’m a tough girl. Got through it eventually…” she trails off, attention flickering to the keys before meeting his brown eyes again, “And I know I’m bein’ kinda anal about you tellin’ my daddy ‘n stuff but there’s reasonin’ behind it. I wanted you to know that reason. You make me feel all these...things. Things I’ve felt before. Things I’ve lost. I don’t want that to happen again.”

“And it won’t.” He reassures her, tone hushed as to not wake her father.

The lights flicker suddenly and they both look towards the lamp before he’s getting her to look at him again.

“Paloma, those things you feel. I feel them too and I don’t want to fuck ‘em up either. Te quiero a ti (I want you), mi corazón, te necesito (I need you). Like fuckin’ air. It’s ridiculous how spun you’ve got me.”

Paloma’s heart swells at his words, the rawness of them, and she doesn’t give a fuck if her dad was to walk in in this very moment; she lurches forward to kiss him, holding his jaw tenderly.

The power finally gives out, accompanied with a deafening crash of lightning, plunging the room into darkness. The storm outside intensifies, its ferocity underscored by the unrelenting roar of thunder.

They pull back abruptly, but he’s still close enough to brush his nose against the soft skin of her cheek. He needs her so bad.

Paloma’s eyes flutter close at the feel of his warm breath caressing her, a polarizing energy drawing them together and she almost crawls onto his lap.

She hears her father’s voice calling for her and she wishes she hadn’t. Wishes he wasn’t around at all so she could take Javier right here on the fucking piano.

She moves off the bench, flustered completely, shouting down the hall, “We’re gettin’ the lanterns outta the closet to set ‘em up.”

Javier clears his throat, following her down the shadowy hallway until they’re at the closet, watching her rummage through it.

The dim light from the lightning intermittently illuminates her figure, making her movements more sensual than they should be.

When his vision becomes clouded by lust, it’s hard for him to focus on anything that isn’t his subject of affection. That currently being her.

His gaze lingers on her bent over figure, her leggings hugging her curves just right, shirt riding up to expose a slither of skin at her lower back. “No candles?”

“Not safe in a storm like this,” she replies, pulling out a taped up cardboard box. “Don’t want the house goin’ up in flames if the gas lines get hit.”

Turning to look over her shoulder, she smirks when she sees that he’s distracted. “Hey handsome, my eyes are up here.”

“And while your eyes are definitely worth admiring, I’m more intrigued by this ass you got, baby.” He can’t help but deliver a slight spank.

A flush creeps up her cheeks and she gasps his name softly, “Just go put these out by the kitchen and living room, please.”

“Si, jefa.” His grin widens, clearly enjoying her reaction, as he takes the box and heads toward the main rooms, leaving her to handle upstairs.

When Paloma rejoins them in the kitchen, she finds Javier and her father standing by the window, their faces illuminated by the flickering light of the lanterns. They peer out into the storm, watching the rain lash against the windowpane.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had one of these,” she comments.

Romeo, with a small scowl, shakes his head. “Leave it to everyone in town to think this is the work of the devil.”

She snorts at the remark, recognizing the truth in it. A weather anomaly in their small town is enough to stir up wild tales and superstitions. That atop of all the rising tensions and well…

“Yeah, one odd storm, and it’s suddenly the apocalypse,” Javier quips.

She moves to set the table. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to have dinner. In case the end times really are amongst us.”

They sit around the table, their conversation punctuated by the occasional rumble of thunder. As they finish their meal and clean up, her father clears his throat and stretches, glancing out at the downpour with a tired sigh. “I’m turnin’ in for the night,” he announces. 

Paloma and Javier exchange glances, her drying off plates next to her dad and him leaning against the kitchen island, trying not to show how eager they are to be left alone.

“Me too. Probably gonna read a bit before bed. Javier, we’ve set up my old playroom for you to stay in.” His lips twitch at the use of his full first name, and he looks at them both, rubbing his lips together.

“I appreciate you letting me bunker down here.”

“Not a problem. Wouldn’t be surprised if we saw your tin can blowin’ across the yard.” Romeo jokes, drying his hands off then leaning over to pinch at his daughter’s nose affectionately, like he always does. She scrunches her face up in response.

“Night y’all. Javier help yourself to anything.”

He bites back a smirk, the first response to cross his mind being like your daughter? Like the smug bastard that he is. Instead, he gives him a curt nod. “Thank you, goodnight.”

“Night daddy.”

There’s a charged silence as Romeo saunters down the hall, and it’s not until they hear his bedroom door click close that he rounds the counter and walks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.

“Help myself to anything I want. Hm…” he whispers hotly into her ear, one hand moving up to grope her breast, the other toying with the band of her leggings.

She exhales shakily, letting her head fall back against his shoulder and closing her eyes as she enjoys his touch on her body, the way she can feel his erection poking against her ass. “What happened to you not gettin’ hooked?”

He sees the small smirk on her face and he squeezes his grip on her tit, nibbling along her neck. She shudders.

“Shut up.”

Javier spins her around, caging her between him and the counter, dark eyes boring into hers. He goes in for a proper kiss but she stops him, pointer finger pressing against his pursed lips.

He growls her name out and it’s almost drowned out by the wave of thunder that rolls by.

“Meet me in my room in an hour.” She whispers, dropping her hand and spreading her palm against the center of his chest, pushing him back so she’s able to slip away from him.

“Always a tease,” he grumbles, adjusting himself in his sweatpants.

“Promise I’ll make it worth your while.” Paloma walks backwards, blowing him a kiss before disappearing upstairs.

Javier stands on the other side of her door, exactly an hour later as instructed. He rasps his knuckles softly against the wood, and the door opens immediately.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

They share a moment of silence, exchanging a lustful stare before she opens the door wider for him to come in.

“This is a bad idea, bebita. Your dad is just downstairs.” Though the statement dies on his tongue as his eyes rake over her body.

She’s wearing his red checkered flannel, the one he had let her wear the night of the Fourth of July. She hasn’t got anything on under it aside from the only thong she owns, since she isn’t privy to them.

Usually, she would just forgo underwear altogether instead of wearing the uncomfortable scrap of fabric.

But it’s serving its purpose right now.

The flannel doesn’t smell like him anymore since she’d washed it, but she still liked how soft it felt against her skin.

Plus, she knew he wouldn’t be able to resist once he saw her in it.

“Then we’ll have to be quiet.” Her voice drops to a whisper, walking him back until he’s sat at the edge of her bed, Paloma standing between his spread legs and her hands cupping his face.

He swallows hard, his large hands automatically finding her hips, sliding under the flannel to feel the warmth of her skin. “You look incredible.”

Paloma leans in, her lips ghosting over his. “I wore it just for you.”

Javier’s heart races as he feels the heat emanating from her body. He gently tugs her closer, exploring the curve of her waist, the soft swell of her hips, then grabbing her ass. “You’re killing me, princesa.”

She loves hearing that coming from him.

“You gonna be able to stay quiet? Last time we had to be, I had to shut you up myself.” His touch shifts to the back of her thighs, fingers caressing the soft skin there, eyes focused on her and how she reacts to him.

Two lanterns bathe her room in warm light, casting a glow that aids her in her quest to seduce him.

“I think I can manage this time.” She ducks her head to kiss him, not hungrily or passionately, but slowly, savoring the taste of mint that lingers on his tongue.

His lips travel from her mouth to her jawline, and down the sensitive skin of her neck.

“Javi?”

“¿Si, muñeca?”

“I need your help with something.”

“What’s that, baby?”

“Need you to talk me through sucking your dick.”

He pulls back abruptly, blinking rapidly as he processes her words. “What?”

“Don’t make me repeat it,” she juts her lower lip out, “I’ve… well I’ve never done it before and I really, really really want to do it with you.” She sounds desperate but she doesn’t care.

Paloma’s been fantasizing about it for a while now, the desire to do it only growing the more intimate they got. Her mind has been filled with images of him, his reactions, and the way he might look at her with that smoldering gaze of his.

The thought of pleasing him, of having his taste and scent overwhelm her, has her buzzing with a heady mix of excitement and nervousness.

“I’m having a hard time believing that. You’ve got perfect fuckin’ lips,” soft, plump, just begging to have a cock between them.

She giggles, feeling his fingers toying with the thin strap of her thong. “Thank you. I’d like to put ‘em to use if you don’t mind.”

He blows out a breath, trying to keep his composure. “How inexperienced are we talking here?” Javier’s cock is already twitching, knowing that no one has breached this part of her and that he’s the one who gets to do it is making him delirious.

“I know what it is. Given a hand job before but never had one down my throat,” she admits, her cheeks flushed.

He grunts at her wording. “I’ve seen a few dirty flicks where the girl’s done it. I think m’capable, but I wanna know what you like. How you want me to take it.”

“You can’t say things like that and expect me to keep my shit together.”

Another giggle escapes her lips as she slowly moves to her knees, the plush rug cushioning her descent. Her dainty hands come to rest on his muscular thighs, fingers gently kneading the fabric of his gray sweatpants.

He looks irresistibly sexy in his casual attire, a simple t-shirt and sweatpants that do nothing to hide the raw masculinity that has her already dripping wet, eagerly awaiting his instructions.

The look she gives him—those eyes, brimming with lust—makes him wish he had a video camera to capture this moment.

He wants to immortalize the way her lips part slightly, how her breath quickens, the way her hands tremble with enthusiasm.

He wants to be able to replay it over and over again, to remember how she looks up at him from beneath her lashes, her gaze filled with an intensity that sends a jolt of arousal straight to his cock.

“Unbutton the shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits of yours, sweetheart.” 

Her thighs clench, fingers flying to the buttons of the flannel, deftly popping them open to reveal her chest, a shiver skipping over her exposed skin and perking her nipples.

Javier’s eyes darken with hunger as he licks his lips slowly, savoring the sight before him.

He brings his hand up, cupping her left breast, his thumb brushing over her skin in teasing strokes. His calloused touch sends a ripple of pleasure through her, responding with ragged breaths.

Just as she starts to lean into his hand, he pulls away, leaving her yearning for more.

“Now touch me, princesa. Feel how hard you got me.”

This is how she dies, she thinks, with Javier Peña talking her through her first blowjob. Their little erotic phone call had been one experience, and now he is bestowing another one upon her. In the same week.

Maybe she’s already dead.

Her palm glides up and down his length, tracing the hardening outline over the soft fabric of his sweatpants. The sight of her full tits and pebbled nipples enough to get him fully hard.

Paloma leans in, gently lifting the hem of his tee out of the way. She places a delicate kiss just above his waistband, her lips brushing against the warm skin of his lower abdomen and her nose scrunching as the dark trail of hair tickles her.

Her hand continues its rhythmic motion, eliciting a slow, deep exhale from him�� unspoken encouragement to keep going.

“So big,” she murmurs, “don’t know how I’m goin’ to fit it all in my mouth.” Her tongue darts out, teasingly licking around his belly button, causing his stomach to tighten in anticipation.

“Don’t worry, muñeca,” he coos, “We’ll make it fit.”

With starry eyes, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of his bottoms, slowly dragging them down. He lifts his hips to help her, the fabric sliding off and pooling around his ankles.

His cock springs free, resting heavily against his pelvis.

Her eyes widen, mouth watering.

She’s felt his impressive size, but seeing it so closely in the flesh sends thudding pressure to her clit, blood rushing with a desperate need to please him.

He’s thick and perfectly sized with an enticing curve that has her tongue moving involuntarily in her mouth. The skin is a shade lighter than the rest of him, currently flushed a deep, heated red, the smooth head throbbing and glistening with precum dripping from the slit.

“Damn, Javi,” she purrs, a content hum vibrating through her chest. “Every part of you is handsome.” It makes her heart race, and she can feel heat licking at her labia, eager to show him just how much she aches for him.

He exhales through his nose, stroking her hair and gently urging her forward. “Give it a kiss, bebita.”

“Where?”

“Donde tú quieras.”

She sucks her teeth, contemplating how she wants to do this. The soft lighting of the room and the flashes of silver from the lightning outside accentuate every ridge and curve of his cock—making it look so yummy.

Javi can feel her warm breath fanning over him, then the blissful wetness of her plump lips as she presses them against the blazing skin of his base. Her tongue follows, tracing the path of a thick vein with deliberate slowness.

He curses under his breath, biting down on his tongue to stifle any involuntary noises, but fuck, it feels good.

Her tongue traces the protruding vein all the way to the top, circling around the head, mimicking what she’s seen in the pornos. More precum leaks from his slit, and she laps at it thirstily, welcoming the peculiar flavor. The salty tang mingles with the taste of his skin, driving her fucking crazy.

“It doesn’t look like I have to teach you much, chiquita, you’re doing an amazing fuckin’ job so far.” Javier praises, continuing to stroke her hair with a satisfied, wolfish grin playing at his lips.

“Really?” She seeks his approval like a drowning woman seeking air.

“Of course. Always so good for me.” His dark eyes gleam with ardor, “Now get it wet, baby, so it can slip in your mouth easily.”

Obedient as ever and fueled by his praise, her tongue moves with sinful precision, eyes fluttering close as she focuses on licking every inch, using her lips to press open mouthed kisses all over.

More saliva gathers in her mouth, and she deliberately lets a thick, glistening strand fall from her lips, dribbling over the sensitive tip and trailing slowly down the full length of him.

Paloma’s hand comes up, fingers wrapping around his dick with a teasing grip. Her movements are slow, pumping him gently.

“Your nails look so sexy wrapped around my cock like this baby holy fuck,” Javier can’t help but compliment as she squeezes him, clenching his jaw. “That’s right, así mero princesa, shit.” He grunts, the hand that had been tenderly stroking her hair now tangles into her long, silken strands, fingers gripping and gently tugging, a primal response to her actions.

He mentioned a long time ago how much he loved it when a woman had a fresh manicure, and Paloma, ever wanting to get his attention, has not missed a single appointment with her manicurist since.

“Got ‘em done just for you,” she coos, winking up at him and leaning forward to purse her lips, slapping his fat head against them.

“Gettin’ yourself all done up for me? Mi muñequita so eager to please. Go ahead and put me in your mouth. Wanna see those pretty lips around my cock.”

She can feel her slick dampening her panties, wanting nothing more than to make him feel good. Show up any other woman he’s ever taken to bed.

Holding him steady at the base, she parts her lips and slowly envelops his cock in her hot mouth.

The heavy, pulsing weight of him pressing down on her tongue amplifies her craving for more. His slick, warm flesh, generously coated in her spit, has him sliding effortlessly into her mouth.

Javier brings his fist up to bite into it, letting out a choked groan.

The weather continues its tyranny outdoors and he’s fucking grateful that it’s loud enough to cover the sounds of pleasure she’s pulling from him. “Take it slow, baby, open your jaw a little more.”

She listens, lowering her chin and taking him deeper into her mouth. The blunt tip grazes the back of her throat, causing her to gag and she pulls back, struggling to catch her breath.

The feeling is overwhelming, yet exhilarating.

“¿Todo bien, nena?” he asks in a low, gravelly murmur, eyelids heavy as he watches her.

The fingers previously tangled in her hair now brush away the few stray strands that have fallen forward behind her ear.

She responds with a breathy hum of affirmation, determined to push him further down her throat. But her eagerness causes her to overestimate her capacity, resulting in a sputtering mess as she chokes and coughs, droplets of her saliva splattering over him.

“Baby, it’s okay,” he soothes, his thumb gently swiping at the spit on her lower lip. “Take it easy. S’not a race.” The tender gesture only heightens her arousal.

“I jus’ wanna make you feel good, Javi,” she replies, voice hoarse from the strain of her attempt at deep throating.

“Trust me, you’re doing just fine. Here, let me help.” His hand moves to the nape of her neck, carefully guiding her closer. 

He slowly breaches her mouth with his cock again, slipping in and out in a gentle rhythm. He helps her find a steady pace, his care and control transforming the act into more of an intimate experience.

“Atta girl, just like that. Tan hermosa,” he murmurs, admiring the view of her flushed face. “Think you can handle it all on your own now?”

She responds with a soft nod, the subtle move has her teeth just barely grazing his throbbing cock and it makes him shudder, jaw going slack.

More confident and her jaw worked open more, Paloma hollows her cheeks and blows him with keenness.

Her hands join in, one cradling his balls while the other wraps around his dick, stroking him in time with her mouth.

She looks up at him through her wet lashes, a loving glint twinkling in her eyes.

Javier curses under his breath, head lolling back and eyes fluttering close as her mouth and tongue work together to tread the fine fucking line of his orgasm. 

She takes him deeper, her swollen lips stretching around his cock while her jaw aches from accommodating him.

He gathers her hair into a loose ponytail with his fist, hips starting to move in tandem with her mouth. “Just like that, palomita.”

She’s got the hang of it now, able to take him all in, nose brushing against the tuft of hair at his base that’s damp with the saliva from her ministrations. 

The storm rages outside, but here, in this moment, all he can focus on is the exquisite torment of her mouth tightening the coil at the base of his spine.

Paloma stills, swallowing around his length and he praises her in a hushed whisper.

Javi gently strokes her cheek with his fingertips, his touch tender and reassuring, the contrast of his soft caress with the way she’s got him down her throat making her heart do jumping jacks.

She struggles to breathe but she doesn’t really give a fuck. The intense thrill of his reactions has her losing herself completely, thighs tensing together.

Her thong, now drenched with her own excited mess, sticks to her pussy; reminding her of how hot and bothered she is from just blowing him.

Between her tight throat, swirling tongue, and pretty gags, Javier has to pull her off of him before he spills his load down her throat.

Gasping for air, her eyes are glazed with tears of both pleasure and strain.

She looks up at him again with an expression so intoxicating—he nearly paints her face at the sight. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nada, cariño. I’d just like to fuck your pussy and not come down your throat tonight.” Some other time, for sure.

“I take it as I did a good job?”

“Best I’ve ever had.”

Paloma’s lips curl into a triumphant smirk, brown eyes glowing with satisfaction at his praise. She licks her lips, savoring the lingering taste of him as she leans in, pressing a final kiss on the sensitive tip of his cock with the electrifying touch of her lips.

Slowly, she rises from her knees, her movements fluid and deliberately sensual. She trails heated, open-mouthed kisses up his torso, each touch igniting a feverish path on his skin.

As she moves, she pulls his shirt up along with her, her soft breasts brushing against his firm stomach.

He reacts quickly, shedding the shirt and tossing it aside.

Their lips finally meet in a fervent kiss. It’s messy and passionate—they’re drunk off each other.

“How do you want me?” Paloma asks in a sultry whisper.

“Face down, ass up,” he grunts, pushing the flannel off her shoulders, eager to feel more of her bare skin beneath his touch.

She positions herself on the bed, her face nuzzling against the soft mountain of pillows, arms stretched out in front of her.

The recently fixed headboard offers a silent promise; no noise will give them away, and they won’t have to worry about getting caught.

That’s the last thing they need.

Whether they’re able to keep quiet themselves is an entirely different thing.

Javier, now fully nude, strokes his cock slowly, savoring the sight before him. Her plump ass is on full display, tantalizingly framed by the thin, barely-there panties.

He grunts with satisfaction, his gaze hungrily devouring the view of her pretty pussy, ready for him to take.

As he closes the distance between them, he kneads her ass cheeks firmly, the smoothness of her skin and the way she molds to his touch triggering a searing lust in him. 

Every fantasy he’d ever had about her in this position is now a vivid, thrilling reality. He’s intent on taking full advantage of this, to make her his in every sense. 

“Don’t know if I can trust you to stay quiet,” he murmurs as he slowly pulls down her underwear, a string of her slick sticking to it, making the sight so fucking erotic.

Paloma can’t help but sway her hips, enticing him further, as she lays bare on the mattress. “I will be, honey, I promise.” She turns her head to try and get a better look at him, cheek resting on the cushion.

“Can’t take that risk. Not tonight.” The bed dips when he positions himself behind her, and his broad frame bends over hers, chest to her back, wet cock brushing up against the skin of her ass. “Abre,” he commands lowly into her ear and she whimpers, parting her lips.

Her eyes go wide with surprise and her pulsating sex drools when he shoves her damp, ruined panties into her mouth. The fabric is cool against her tongue, tinged with her own tangy scent, and she can taste the remnants of her arousal.

Her moan is swallowed by the material, muffled and contained, amplifying the sensation of helpless pleasure that floods her senses.

“Calladita te ves más bonita (you look prettier with your mouth shut),” he taunts, placing a kiss to her cheek, bristling mustache dragging at her shoulder, until he straightens up and takes his cock into his hand again, slowly rubbing it along her slit and spreading their mess all over her cunt.

Paloma clenches around nothing in anticipation, arching her back and spreading her knees a little more to give him the perfect angle to rut into her. 

He sinks into her pussy slowly, growling expletives under his breath at how fucking amazing she feels positioned like this. Her tight, wet heat wrapping around him as he splits her open on his girth. “Sucking me in so well, amor, just like that fucking mouth of yours.”

Every sound of ecstasy gets lost on the now wet cloth as drool pools from her lips, brain absolutely melting once he’s balls deep inside of her, the weight of them pressed up against her clit.

All she can think and feel is him. He doesn’t give her a moment to adjust, pulling out until only his fat head is inside before roughly snapping his hips against hers.

The pace he sets is deliciously brutal, tears sting at her eyes as he presses up against that spot inside her that makes more juices drip out of her pussy and slather all over his dick.

Javier is completely entranced, watching as her cunt stretches open for him each time he rolls his hips, spitting his cock out, covered in her creamy arousal.

He spreads her cheeks to get the best view possible, biting his lip harshly and digging his fingertips into her skin.

The thunderstorm doesn’t let up, perfectly masking the filthy sounds of their fucking. “Feels fucking amazing baby, shit, can feel you clenching around me. Love being gagged, don’t you?” He can’t help himself, moving his hands so one hand tangles itself in her long hair, pulling at it so she’s on all fours now while the other grabs onto her hip.

Like a doll, she lets him move her however the hell he wants. Her arms tremble as she holds herself up, her scalp burning from his firm grip, each tug cascading waves of blissful electricity all over, starting at her toes.

Sex with Javier is unlike anything she’s ever experienced—raw, fiery, and profoundly exhilarating.

As he moves, her body dances to his rhythm, each motion perfectly synchronized with his. The soft flesh of her ass jiggles enticingly with each thrust, the twin dimples at the base of her spine deepening and winking at him.

Beads of sweat glisten on her golden skin, trailing seductively down the arch of her spine. He leans closer, his tongue darting out to lap at a single drop of perspiration, savoring the salty sweetness.

Paloma keens, bringing one hand back to dig her nails into his wrist as he fucks her like those stars in the dirty flicks.

Javier moves quickly, pinning both of her wrists at the base of her spine, her face falling flat on the pillows and further making it hard for her to breathe. She loves it, loves the way he’s manhandling her.

His balls tighten, as does the grip on her wrists.

He’s right at the edge of his precipice. But he can’t let go just yet—not without getting her off first. “So proud of you for taking this cock so well, muñeca. C’mon, baby, come all over it. I can feel how close you are. She’s grippin’ me so tight. Doesn’t want me to leave.”

Paloma squeezes her eyes shut, concentrating on the relentless way he fucks into her. Her walls convulse around his shaft, each stroke lighting up every nerve in her body.

He’s filling her to the brim, burying every bit of his soul and essence into her pussy.

It’s a raw and intimate exchange, a way he opens up and surrenders himself to her.

She sings, he fucks. He’s finding a healthier way to fuck his feelings into his woman without the devastating angst.

Unlike before, where passion was tangled with pain and regret, he now seeks a more fulfilling release.

Javier finds solace in their sex.

A stark white flash of lightning illuminates the room, casting fleeting shadows over their intertwined bodies, followed by the familiar, rolling rumble of thunder. The storm outside mirrors the tempestuous passion in her bedroom.

Thank-fucking-God her daddy was a heavy sleeper.

He yanks her up, pressing his chest flush against her back and trapping her wrists between them, the heat of their bodies melding them together.

One arm snakes around to grab her bouncing tit, his fingers kneading the soft flesh, while his other slips down to her clit, alternating between softly pinching and rubbing circles against the sticky, sensitive flesh.

“When I pull the panties out your mouth, I want you to moan my name. You understand?” he whispers hotly into her ear. At first, she’s too lost in the pleasure he’s bringing her to fully grasp his words, mind clouded with nothing but Javier Peña.

He delivers a particularly harsh thrust, making her gasp and snapping her eyes open––bringing her back to the present.

Repeating himself in a throaty and commanding voice, she nods faintly, understanding now, her body quivering.

After a few more intensely euphoric moments, another strike splits the sky. Javier hastily removes the gag from her mouth, his fingers brushing her lips. “Give it to me, Paloma,” He grits through his teeth.

And she does. The crack of the lightning and the storm’s thunder roar loudly, shaking the house, her primal cry of bliss drowned out by the heavy noise.

“Javi!” her jaw falls open, walls contracting tightly around his dick, milking him as her climax crashes into her.

The sensation is so much, she nearly blacks out, her vision swimming in a haze of pleasure. Paloma’s body tenses, and that’s all it takes for him to follow suit.

Javier tightens his grip on her, his fingers pulling at her nipple as his own orgasm hits.

His cock twitches, releasing his hot seed deep inside her, filling her up completely. He grunts against her neck, his breath ragged, teeth finding and sinking into her damp skin.

He kisses her sloppily, leaving a trail of wetness from his tongue as he marks her, claiming her in their shared moment of fucking paradise.

They stay like that for a few moments, bodies entwined, hearts pounding in sync, as they come down from their respective highs.

“M’never, ever, ever gonna get tired of that,” she pants out with a satisfied grin, tilting her head to pepper kisses along the side of his head as his lips continue to press against her neck.

“You and me both, princesa.” Their lips meet in a lazy kiss, both of them smiling into it. His hold on her loosens, now cradling her affectionately, and she melts into his embrace.

“Lay with me, Javi, please?” she whispers, running the tip of her nose along his cheek, giggling softly as his mustache tickles her skin.

He nods, momentarily forgetting where they were and the implications of what would unravel if the man downstairs decided to come up and check on them. “Okay.”

They untangle and she isn’t bothered by the way their mixed release seeps out of her, smearing all over her folds. She’ll shower it off in the morning.

They move beneath the sheets of her bed, settling against her pillows and the many stuffed animals she owns. “Damn, how many of these shits do you have?” Javier asks, holding a tattered bunny in his hand that she takes from him and tenderly caresses.

“Hey, don’t be rude. Mr. Bubbles was my very first best friend and a very important member of the family.”

Javier snorts, and she shoots him a playful glare, carefully placing her beloved plush on her bedside table. He shuffles as she leans against the headboard, his head resting on her stomach while her fingers play in his hair.

The rhythmic pattering of the rain is comforting now, the warm lights in her bedroom embracing this moment with a soft glow.

It’s quiet for a few moments, his lips placing tender kisses all over her soft skin. When he reaches the scar on her hip, he can’t help but bring his curious fingers up to gently trace it, the question hanging on the tip of his tongue.

“How’d you get this?”

Paloma takes a deep breath, her fingers still entertaining themselves in his curls. “I got it when I was thirteen,” she begins softly, “I used to love climbin’ this big tree we had in our backyard. I’d always go as high as I could, ‘n once I reached the top, I swore I could see the whole world from up there. It was beautiful, you know? The view, the feelin’ of being so free and above everythin’.”

She pauses, a small smile tugging at her lips as she remembers the exhilaration of those childhood climbs. “But one day, I saw somethin’ out in the distance—a shadowed figure. It made me feel… uneasy. I’d dreamt of somethin’ like it before, so seein’ it in person… it instilled this fear into me. Felt like a bad omen.”

Paloma shivers slightly at the recollection, and Javier’s hold tightens around her in silent support. “Somehow, I lost my footin’. Slipped off the branch and tumbled down the tree. The fall was chaotic as hell. One of the sharp branches nicked me and cut up my side. It was real deep, felt like I was gonna die.”

It was a miracle she didn’t break a bone or snap her neck. “I smacked the ground hard, it knocked the wind right outta me. I remember jus’ layin’ there, unable to breathe, and seein’ the blood. It was everywhere. The pain was so intense, and it took almost ten minutes of pure agony ‘fore I could use my lungs again. I started screamin’ like a banshee and my parents rushed out, absolutely frantic.”

The tip of his nose grazes the mark, his lips following suit, showering it with tender kisses. Her skin prickles with goosebumps as her fingertips gently scratch at his scalp.

“They rushed me into town to see Dr. Hughes. She stitched me up and told me I was lucky it wasn’t worse. Daddy and a few of his lumberjack buddies cut the tree down the next day. I was so sad.”

“Bet you didn’t climb more trees after that.” He smirks up at her and she snorts softly.

“I did, I was jus’ more careful.”

Javier’s affections trail upward from her stomach to her sternum, then to her neck, and she sighs happily.

The feel of his body between her legs, flaccid cock pressed up against her sore pussy, cradled in her arms, is a high she’s going to spend the rest of her life chasing.

They kiss and kiss until her lips are blue and his lungs beg for oxygen, exchanging tender touches.

His hand finds its familiar place around her neck but doesn’t apply any real pressure, thumb gently brushing against the column of her throat.

She revels in the feel of him.

Her dainty hands roam over his muscular back, broad shoulders, and toned triceps, exploring every inch they can reach. Each touch feels like a declaration of their mutual addiction.

The way they fit together, both physically and emotionally, is intoxicating.

She can feel his love in every movement, every kiss, and every gentle brush of his thumb.

This is their sanctuary, a moment where they can express their deepest emotions without fear.

“I could stay here all night.”

“Why limit yourself to all night? Why not forever?”

He groans out in satisfaction, nipping at her chin, needing his lips on some part of her at all times.

“As much as I’d love to pretend like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. I have to go back across the hall.”

“You don’t have to do anythin’. Said it was a bad idea to mess ‘round while my daddy’s downstairs but that didn’t stop you from fuckin’ me.”

She can’t even take the expression he flashes her seriously, not with his hair sticking up in odd places and that fucked out glaze over his brown eyes.

“Just leave early in the morning. Or at least wait until I fall asleep.” And out of spite, she’s tempted to stay up all night just to keep him in her bed.

“Fine. Until you fall asleep.” He kisses her on the lips, moving from between her legs until he’s settled behind her, scooping her into his arms. Her head rests on his chest, one leg hitched over his, and her palm sprawled against his stomach.

He trails his fingers up and down the length of her spine, the other hand stroking the thigh draped over his hip. He nuzzles his nose against the crown of her hair and inhales deeply.

Her scent is not only an aphrodisiac but also incredibly calming.

She feels the accelerated pounding of his heart and before she can ask what’s wrong, his tongue loosens.

“I had this partner in Colombia. Steve Murphy. The most American American you’ll ever meet.” A small smile forms on his face as he reminisces, “Didn’t speak a lick of Spanish but still managed to help me get shit done. We went through the fuckin’ trenches together down there and I put him through the wringer so many goddamn times. I was such an asshole.”

“Was?” She can’t help but quip, kissing up on his chest. Javier slaps at her thigh.

She can tell he holds fondness for this man and she wonders why he’s just now bringing him up. Regardless, she enjoys hearing about his time in the DEA, despite how dark it can get.

He was a completely different man with baggage she can’t even begin to fathom.

“We found a baby girl in her house one day. Her mother and the rest of her family had been shot up by some of Escobar’s men. They were about to kill her when we showed up.”

The conversation takes a turn, and Paloma lifts her head to meet his gaze, but he looks relatively calm as he goes on with the story.

“We chased those bastards all over the neighborhood. Right as I got the upper hand on one, a kid no older than ten cornered me with a fucking pistol.” Her eyes widen, and she brings her fingers up to touch his cheek.

“‘Course I wasn’t going to shoot a fucking kid. They both ran off. Murphy and his wife, Connie, ended up adopting the girl. Olivia, they named her.”

“Olivia’s a beautiful name.”

“She’s precious.”

The context of his past has jaded such a good man, molding him into a cynic over the years. No wonder he struggles to be vulnerable.

His eyes, though calm, reveal a depth of pain and reflection, the memories of those days etched into his soul.

“I think they’d like you.” He turns his head to kiss her palm, nuzzling against it as she cradles his face.

“Well maybe I’ll get to meet ‘em one day. Your pops, too.”

“Oh I know he’d love you. Just knowing how you tend to the house and yard is gonna have him wanting to steal you from me.” Javier playfully nips at her fingertips, those golden flecks she loves to see in his eyes returning.

“If he’s anything like you, then you’re in trouble, cowboy.” 

She’s tickled by the hairs of his mustache and accidentally lets a loud laugh slip, causing him to grip her jaw gently as he shushes her. “Shhh, baby…” His thumb is at her bottom lip, “Gonna get us caught.”

“Tell that to your ‘stache, sir. S’always ticklin’ me.” Paloma bites down on his thumb playfully and he lean in to kiss her for the millionth time.

They indulge in more pillow talk until eventually she’s just humming in response, half asleep, her body going limp against his and her breath leveling out.

Exhaustion tugs at him, the weather lulling him into an almost serene state. Watching her sleep in his arms, her already soft features look even more angelic.

Her long lashes rest delicately against her cheeks, and the rise and fall of her chest is hypnotic, reminding him that she’s real and here for him.

Javier doesn’t want to leave even though he knows he must. He doesn’t want to rob himself of this moment—of how, for the first time in a long time, he’s able to cradle something in his hands and not break it.

Her presence is a soothing balm to the wounds of his past, and he wants to savor every second of this newfound peace.

But as he holds her, the rhythmic patter of rain against the window and the rumble of thunder weave a lullaby that’s impossible to resist. His resolve falters and his eyelids grow heavy.

He takes in the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body pressed against his, and the feeling of absolute contentment that she brings.

It’s a sensation he convinced himself he wasn’t worthy of experiencing, so having it now fills him with a profound sense of gratitude.

Despite his best efforts to stay awake and to tell himself to get up, he eventually succumbs to the exhaustion, his head resting gently on hers. His arms tighten around her protectively, even in sleep, as if to ensure she remains safe and close.

The storm rages on outside, never letting up despite the tranquil note in which their night ends.

[1kook]

imax & climax

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

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

Copyright © August 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[reidgraygubler]

play date (jennifer jareau/reader)

Title: Play Date

Request: no

Couple: Jennifer Jareau/Gender-Neutral!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warning:  allusions to parents death, mentions of a parent walking out, swearing (if any), single parenthood, tbh i don’t really know what else to tag. It’s just straight (or gay) fluff.

Word Count: 3,028

Summary: JJ brings her kids to the park where she meets Reader, who brought her kids to play. The pair’s kids become fast friends, as for Reader and JJ? That’s a whole different story.

A/N: this is my first time writing for jj. please enjoy it bc im big soft for her rn (i will also say that about luke too)... this is day four of my 7fics 7days event for 1.2k followers ! Here is the masterlist for that! And here’s my main masterlist! Thank you all for the love and support! 

also, thank you to @reidetic​ for proof reading this :)))

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

It was a normal day, right? I mean, that’s what I thought. My kids and I walked to the park after some chores, and after lunch. Nice fresh air, playing in the park, talking to other parents. Do people actually do that? Talking to other parents in the park? It’s been a while since I’ve actually gone to the park with my kids… 

"Make sure you’re safe. And, if you need me, I’ll be sitting here," I pointed to the bench that held my backpack. My daughter looked up at me and nodded before running off. My son on the other hand was a little bit more apprehensive of leaving my side to go play. Part of me wondered if it had to do with all the other kids running around, playing with one another. 

"What’s up, Buddy? Didn’t you want to come to the park?" I looked at him as I squatted to his height. He looked up at me and shrugged, not really telling me what was wrong. "Oh, c’mon, we’ve been to this park before." I sighed and looked at him while I gently ruffled his hair.

"Your sister wants to play with you, go on." I looked towards the park where my daughter was currently playing. It was a relief seeing her playing with the other kids, not by herself. But she was always quick to make new friends and play with new people. So it wasn’t that big of a surprise. 

"Your son can play with my boys if he wants," a woman looked at me with a smile. I looked away from my child and towards a blonde woman who had two boys standing beside her. They looked to be about my son's age. 

"You wanna play with them?" I looked back at my boy, resting a hand on his shoulder. I watched as he looked over at the two new boys, his little eyebrows furrowed together as his lips pouted out a bit. "C’mon they won’t bite."

"Well, Michael might…" the woman laughed as she looked between me and my boy. I looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. "They like playing superheroes," she was quick to add, clearly realizing her mistake. 

"You love superheroes! You could be X-Men!" I clapped my hands together. My son looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows and shook his head. Over by the blonde woman I could hear her boys talking about something. I looked over at the three and raised an eyebrow. "Did I say something wrong?" I looked back at my son. He just looked at me, his eyes just staring at me like I did, indeed, say something wrong. 

"How about," the woman spoke, looking between my boy and I, and then down at her boys, "You three go play superheroes, and when you’re all done, come back to us," she folded her arms over her chest as she looked down at the 3 boys. My son looked up at me with a cocked eyebrow, silently asking if I was totally fine with him going with 2 strangers.

"It’s okay, go on. I’ll be here. Have fun," I winked at him before standing upright myself. He looked over at the two other boys before running off with them. 

"That was easier than I thought it would be," I laughed as I moved my backpack to the ground, before I sat on the bench. 

"They love making new friends. But they can be a little… shy," she laughed as she stepped closer to the bench, "I would do anything for them," she smiled and nodded.

"Please, you can sit beside me." I chuckled as I gestured towards the empty space beside me.

"Jennifer… Jennifer Jareau," she smiled at me as she sat down beside each other on the park bench. I looked at her and nodded. "But you can call me JJ,"

"It’s nice meeting you, JJ," I smiled before giving her my name, "How old are your boys?" I looked over at the playground and spotted our boys playing together. It didn’t look like they were playing superheroes like JJ and I had both thought. It looked like they were playing pirates or something else. 

"Henry is 9 and Michael just turned 6," JJ smiled at me as I looked back at her. "What about yours? How old is he?" she asked, looking out at all the kids. 

"He just turned 5 a few months ago. And my daughter is 10," I smiled and nodded. I looked back out at the playground, looking for my daughter. She was by the slide, talking with one of the other girls. 

"Oh, and you have a daughter?" JJ asked as she followed my gaze to the girl in question. "Well, they both look just like you."

"Well, they definitely don’t have my  eyes and nose," I laughed and shook my head. JJ looked back at me with a cocked eyebrow. "And I swear my little boy has their personality too." 

"He certainly is adorable," JJ laughed as she looked around at the playground. She laughed once she looked at our boys. I was impressed that my son was actually playing instead of just sitting to the side by himself. To be honest, I don’t remember the last time he played with other kids his age. It was a nice change to see for him. He looked like he was having fun, and that’s all that mattered.

"My little king," I laughed lightly as I looked back at JJ. I noticed she was looking between me and our kids. "Do you come to this park often?" 

"Not as often as I’d like. Work can get busy, and then school gets busy," I relaxed my body as I sat back more on the bench.

"Amen to that," JJ raised her eyebrows as she spoke. Her smile was genuine, and I enjoyed looking at it. It gave me a certain joy I hadn’t had in a while. It made me smile. 

"What is it you do for a living? Surely it can’t be too bad," I laughed as I turned to face her more. She copied my movement and faced me too.

"I… I actually work for the FBI," she kept her voice low so no one around could hear our conversation. I looked at her with wide eyes. And suddenly every little bad thing I’ve ever done came to my mind. The one time I ran a red light because I didn’t want to be late. Or, the one time I stole a chocolate bar when I was a teenager. Or, when I cut someone off on the freeway.

"The-the FBI… Great," I nodded as I looked down at my hands. "Beats my media manager job," I laughed again as I looked up at her.

"Don’t worry. Media manager sounds like a great job," JJ smiled at me, reaching over to hold my hand. I looked at her and nodded.

"FBI sounds even cooler. I bet it’s terrifying," I swallowed roughly as I looked at her.

"Sometimes it can be. It’s the thrill of the chase that keeps me going." Her laughter was like cotton candy: sweet and light and fluffy. I couldn’t help but smile again. 

"I would have guessed it was the boys that kept you going. But, I supposed the FBI does do that to someone," I looked down at her hand, which was still holding mine. I could feel my heart rate pick up slightly as I looked down at our hands. I wonder if she knew she was still holding mine. 

"Yeah, I suppose I do have to try to keep up with those boys," she laughed, again, before looking over at our kids. I furrowed my eyebrows before nodding slowly. 

"Surely their dad must be a load of help, while you’re at work," I asked about her husband/partner without actually asking about him. She looked back at me and cringed slightly. "Oh… I’m so sorry," I whispered before dropping my gaze from her face.

"It’s okay. Really, it's fine,"  she pulled her hand from mine and waved it off. Part of me sensed that she didn't want to talk about it. And, that was okay. 

If it was the same situation as me, if they just walked out? Or if he was ever a part of his kids lives… Did he die? And, if so how? Was he a police officer who got killed on duty? Or was he incredibly sick? It was a bit of a touchy subject. That was until she asked...

"What happened to their…” she started as she looked over at me. “If you don’t mind me asking?" JJ looked at me. And I could feel her big blue doe eyes starting into my spoiler soul. I looked at her and shrugged.

"Oh, uh, not in their lives anymore," I sighed before looking towards the playground, "It was just after our son was born too..." I shrugged, leaving my statement as vague as possible so I wouldn’t have to explain that we were left for another person.

"Oh goodness, I’m sorry," she looked at me, gently resting a hand on my lap. I looked down at her hand and felt my heart rate spike again. 

I think she was able to figure out what happened without me saying anything about him. I mean, I figured out what happened to her husband. If I didn't have to explain what happened, then I think that would be best….

"Anyways, I've been a single parent ever since," I smiled as I looked over at her, “I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Those two are my world,” I locked eyes with her. 

“I can agree. Michael and Henry… I’d be lost without them,” she smiled at me as she spoke. With that, we both fell into an odd and slightly uncomfortable silence. We both just turned and looked at our kids playing with each other. I wish it wasn’t so awkward…. 

“So, the… FBI?” I started as I turned back to face her. 

“The FBI,” she laughed and nodded, “I work in the BAU,” she looked over at me.

“What would that be, exactly?” I raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh! Yeah! Right, I forget that people don’t know about all the different sections within the actual FBI,” JJ laughed again, and I couldn’t help but let my heart swell again. “So, there’s a bunch of different branches in the FBI, right. I work in the BAU, which is the Behavioral Analysis Unit,” she explained, looking at me like I already knew what that was. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at her.

“Okay, so… What do you do?” 

“Essentially, we read the behaviors of criminals… Like, serial killers, kidnappers… Stuff like that.”

“Like, Ted Bundy?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

“Yeah! Kinda. We’ve been all over the country, solving cases, some unsolved ones. It’s a wild world we live in,” JJ swallowed roughly as she looked down at the bench.

“Do you know how many cases you’ve solved? Must be a lot,” I asked, feeling a certain excitement take over. I felt a little embarrassed by the excitement I felt. JJ could sense that too. But I could see how happy she got with my joy. 

“Too many to count, honestly. I’ve been on the team for… 15 years,” JJ’s tone was mildly confused. Like, she wasn’t too sure. 

“Well, if you’ve been in that line of work for nearly two decades, it’s okay if you don’t remember,” I laughed as I reached over and rested my hand on her leg. It was her turn to blush up at my touch. “Media manager isn’t anything cool. Not like travelling the country like an FBI Agent. That’s super cool,” I looked up at her. 

“It is till it keeps you away from home for long periods of time,” she frowned as she looked down at where my hand was resting on her leg. I returned the frown as I retracted my hand.

“I understand being away from home for a while. Although, I think I only go on work trips every six months,” I laughed, trying to cheer her up a bit. 

“Anyways, enough about work,” JJ laughed as she looked back at me. 

I was more than happy when we fell into a comfortable conversation. Better than before, when we fell into the complete opposite, uncomfortable silence. The conversations moved so swiftly from hobbies, to when our kids were younger, to what we do in our free time. Although, our conversations were cut short by a cry from a little boy in the playground.

I instantly shot up to my feet, looking around the playground for my son. JJ was instantly on her feet too, looking for her sons too. The second I saw my son on the ground, in tears and holding his knee close to his body. I sprinted across the playground and right to him.

“Hey, hey, baby,” I knelt to the ground to help him, “It’s okay,” I whispered as I brushed the tears off his face.

“He… He just fell off the playground,” one of JJ’s sons appeared by me. I looked over at him and nodded with an exaggerated pout. 

“That’s okay! Accidents happen!” I looked back down at my son before picking him up and resting him on my hip. He sniffled his nose before pressing his face into my shoulder. “Ohh, is it time to go home?” I frowned as I walked back over to JJ and the bench. 

“Oh no! Did we have a fall?” JJ looked at me as I got closer to her. I frowned and nodded. “I have a first aid kit in the van if you need." She watched as I sat back down. She sat beside me and looked at my son. “Oh, that looks like a rough owie,” she looked at the scrape on his knees.

“You should see his hands,” I looked back at her. JJ looked back at me before standing up. 

“I’ll be right back,” she rested a hand on my son’s head and then mine before leaving us for a moment. 

“Should we go home and take a nap?” I asked, resting my hand on his back. He took a shaky breath and nodded before pressing his head into body. I looked up just as JJ returned with a small first aid kit and a stuffed animal.

“I have X-Men and Batman band aids,” JJ whispered as she sat back down beside me. I turned my son around so he was facing JJ. “Do you want… Wolverine or Batman?” She looked at him with a small smile on her lips. 

“B-batman,” he whispered, looking cautiously at JJ. I watched as she pulled out a wipe, ointment and some Batman band aids. My son looked up at me, tears still fresh in his eyes. 

“This might sting… Do you want to hold Arlo? He’s Michael’s dinosaur,” JJ looked at my son as she offered the bright blue and yellow stuffed animal. I looked down at him as he held out his hands to take the dinosaur from JJ’s hands. 

“You can be a big boy, for JJ?” I asked, brushing more tears off his cheeks. He looked up at me and nodded. I looked back at JJ and nodded lightly so she would just hurry and clean his injuries. 

“Owie,” he cried as he began squirming around. I held him close as JJ tried to be quick. 

“Look! Look! I’m all done!” she lifted her hands to show him that she was truly finished. “You got some pretty cool Batman’s band aids on your knees now,” she pointed at his knees, causing him to look down at them.

“What do you say to JJ,” I whispered, looking at my son’s face. She looked at me, then down at the boy on my knee with a smile.

“Thanks, JJ,” he mumbled before turning to hide into my body. JJ laughed, and looked back at me. 

“You’re welcome, Buddy,” she looked down at him again. 

“And, on that note… I should probably collect my other kid and go home. It’s nap time,” I looked at JJ as I handed her the stuffed Dinosaur. I really didn’t want to bid farewell to her. But, it was time to go. Time had flown by quickly, it was well past nap time and almost dinner time.

“I agree,” JJ frowned as she stood up. I sighed as I stood up beside her. We both called for our kids, waiting for them to run over to us. “Oh, we should exchange numbers… It was nice talking with you, and it’s nice to have friends outside of work,” she laughed as she turned to me again. I smiled and nodded before pulling out my phone.

"We’ll have to set up another playdate soon. I’m sure they all had fun together," I smiled, looking down at my kid. JJ looked at her kids, then over at mine, "Now that we’ve exchanged numbers and all. How would you guys feel about that?" I couldn’t help but let the smile grow across my lips. My cheeks started to hurt a little bit from how happy I was feeling. I honestly don’t remember the last time I was this happy.

"I think that’s a great idea," JJ smiled before looking back at me. I looked back at her and nodded. "And, maybe we can… have a date our… ourselves?" she asked, raising an eyebrow slightly, "Only if you want! I won’t press-"

"That would be… nice," I smiled and nodded, "I’ll call you?" 

"Sounds good! Have a nice night you three," JJ smiled at each of us before corralling her kids towards her van. 

"Who was that?" My daughter looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows. I smiled as I watched JJ drive off.

"A new friend," I answered, looking down at her with a smile. 

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[atsumiyass]

Bakusquad during christmas

here’s a lil something for christmas since i’m feelin in the spirit - venus

warnings: fluff, platonic relationships

Katsuki Bakugou

Bakugou would definitely take on cooking duty.

We all know mans can cook BOMB ASS FOOD.

He literally wouldn't let anyone else take on the job so...

But I feel like if you tried to help out he wouldn’t care as much

Bc he has a soft spot for you, ofc.

Also bc he knows you can cook pretty good as well.

So you both spend the afternoon cooking together.

Which turned out to be fun...

Apart from when you almost burned down the whole dorm building but we dont talk about that.

Once you finished putting away the food for tomorrow, you had the amazing idea of watching a Christmas movie to get into the spirit and relax after all your hard work.

it took some begging, but he finally agreed.

as long as you watched whatever he wanted, of course

but i mean who were you to say no to Bakugou

so

you made your way to his dorm since he had a tv and you didn’t

lucky prick

he put the disc in and you both settled on the wall where his bed was, a few feet apart from each other

but you’re y/n, and you’re in desperate need of attention

and it was cold

and Bakugou just happened to be a couple feet away

so the only logical option would be to snuggle up next to him

it took some courage but when you did, he surprisingly didn’t mind

he actually put his arm around you.

you took the chance and snuggled in closer.

soft Bakugou was a once in a lifetime experience, you had to take advantage of it.

especially since he would never act like this in front of the others

“so do you think they’ll like the food?” you asked, looking up at him.

“hell yeah they will, we made it didn’t we?” He replied, not looking away from the screen.

you smiled and turned back to the movie.

This Christmas was gonna be one to remember, thats for sure.

Eijirou Kirishima

This baby is on christmas tree duty

he asked you to tag along tho, for support

and bc he has a lil crush on you but you didn’t hear it from me (;

you both get to the common area and take a look at the empty Christmas tree

its huge.

like,

as tall as the ceiling huge.

you might have to call Uraraka for this one

you looked at each other like

“this is gonna take awhile.”

so you both get to work, first stringing the multi-colored lights around the tree

luckily they didn’t get all tangled up in the tree, so it didn’t take that long

(you actually ended up calling Uraraka to help you since it was so high up)

Once that was done, you continued on with the tinsel.

which ended up in it all getting tangled from you both fooling around.

in the trash it goes.

Next was the ornaments.

They varied from red, to white, to even hero themed ones.

you started from the bottom this time, not wanting to get Uraraka again

you decided to turn on some christmas music to set the mood since you both were just sitting in awkward silence for a hot minute

i hc that kiri get shy around his crush pls

so once you got the perfect spotify playlist going you went back to working on the tree, humming along to the song.

little did you know Kirishima was on the other side of the tree, having an internal conflict.

does he talk to you? does he make a joke? does he not say anything? does he-

“hey do we have anymore red ones?” he heard your voice, making him breathe a sigh of relief.

“yeah here..” he said going to grab one.

but ofc you didn’t hear him

so you also went to go grab one

and just like those cheesy romance movies

your hand landed on top of his.

you both looked up at each other and quickly pulled your hands back.

You felt your face heat up as you nervously laughed and picked up the ornament, making your way back to your side of the tree.

my shy, oblivious babies tsk tsk 

Soon enough you finished all the ornaments and stood back to observe your work.

it honestly looked really good.

“wow Eji, it looks great dontcha think?” you asked, turning towards him.

“Yeah we did a super good job! great work y/n!” He said, giving you his signature sharky smile along with a thumbs up

your heart: doki doki

Suddenly a light bulb went off in your head

you had forgotten the star!!!

the most important part!!!!!

wtf y/n smh do better

you dug around in the christmas box for the star, which you soon found.

“hey could you go get Ochaco again? we gotta put up the star.” You called out to him.

“I think she’s out training with the other girls, i’m sure we can handle it.” he said confidently.

you guys couldn’t handle it.

somehow you ended up on top of him after falling off his shoulders.

could this get anymore cliché srsly.

luckily the star hadn't broke, so with the help of Ochaco this time, you got it up all nice and snug.

You plugged in the cords and the tree lit up, the rainbow lights and golden star illuminating the room.

your eyes sparkled in admiration, as the whole class gawked at you and Kirishimas work.

“You’re such a good team guys!” Yaoyorozu said, clapping her hands together with a smile.

and that, you were.

Denki Kaminari

Denki our electric boy would be on presents duty.

how did you end up tagging along with him? 

you offered to go, like the kind person you are.

you actually wanted to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t accidently break something or pick up the wrong presents.

either way

you both arrived at the first store to pick up Mr. Aizawas present, since the whole class chipped in to get him something as a thank you.

you got to the counter and gave the clerk the receipt, and they went to the back to get the order.

what you didn’t know was that while you were there, Kaminari was wondering around the store touching everything he possibly could.

it was only a matter of time before he broke something

you soon realize he isn’t behind you so you go to look for him since the clerk is still in the back

“Kaminari? Where did you go?” You call out to him, but hear no response.

You continue in the store, searching every rack to see if he was hiding inside (yes Denki is childish what about it)

you do end up finding him though

just, not in the way you would imagine.

“Denki what happened?” You asked, speed walking over to a stupefied Kaminari

you saw two batteries on the ground and connected the dots.

of course.

you sighed, picking up the batteries and putting them back on the shelf.

“c’mon you big oaf, lets get back.” you sighed again, guiding Kaminari back to the front

once you got back to the counter the clerk had already come back, present in hand.

they looked at you like “da fawk are these bitches doing”

you grabbed the bag from the counter, thanked the clerk, and left. 

(yes you paid smh you aint no robber)

Hand in hand with Kaminari you made it back to the dorms in one piece thankfully and by that time he had gotten back to a somewhat normal state

as normal as he can be

When the rest of the class asked what happened, you told them:

“just Kaminari, being Kaminari.”

Mina Ashido

you and Mina would def go ugly sweater shopping together.

both of you would force the guys (Bakugou, Kaminari, Kirishima, Sero) to wear them all throughout the Christmas party.

so you headed over to the nearest mall to pick some out for everyone, since (in Minas words) you both have “exquisite taste in fashion”.

which you dont, but they dont know that.

Once you entered the shop you both sprinted and got yelled at to the sweaters section and started to look through the racks.

“Ouu this one just screams Bakugou!” she exclaimed, pulling one from the rack.

It was red, covered in stars, ornaments, and ugly santas with orange words that read ‘Merry Christmas’ across the sweater in cursive.

yeah he would hate it, but then again thats the whole point.

“definitely, lets get it.”

After about an hour or so of picking out unique (ugly asf) sweaters for each of the boys, you paid and left the store.

The day of the party soon rolled around and you got your sweaters on, heading over to the boys’ dorms to give them theirs.

Bakugou: Hell no!

Y/n: pretty pleaseee *puppy dog eyes*

Bakugou: .....fine.

Kirishima: aw yeah cool! I'm gonna look super manly in this!

Sero: I have a bad feeling about this, eh whatever.

Kaminari: we’re gonna look so stupid in these hahaha!

Once they all came out in their sweaters, you and Mina had a whole ass FIT OF LAUGHER 

like I'm talking a good 10 minutes on the floor.

After getting yelled at by Bakugou, you headed over to everyone else.

but not before fist bumping Mina in victory.

“We’re so doing this next year.”

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

you can find our bnha masterlist: here

or our general masterlist: here

[nemuitoka]

What are your favorte jshk fanfics? also where do you like reading them the most?

Hi Anon!!! today is the day I can finally answer this question😈 ahaha you know how much I enjoy making fic recs so 👀 Let’s go!!!

To answer your second question first, I like reading them on AO3 the most! Mostly because I get almost unlimited number of characters to rant in the comment section........... 😆but also the tagging system is very helpful.

Okay, now to the fun part of this ask😏

You said JSHK, but I mostly read Hananene ones so all of my favs include that pairing... as  I already did a fic rec here of my favs, this list will continue that one, so please check that one first hehe ((I apologize in advance..., I would love for people to recommend me some mitsukou ones tbh... I’m really lost when it comes to other pairings orz)) 

If I’m completely honest with you anon-san, my favorite JSHK fic right now is the one Roxanne ( @istoleyourboat )  wrote based of my art and her snippet:

Star-Crossed and Falling- Where Stars Go to Die by lilaflo

Hanako is Princess Nene’s personal knight 👀. A tale of forbidden love. They slowly fall in love as they exchange a series of gifts, one that includes a pair of matching earrings that remind them of their love when they’re apart. Also, jelly Hanako of Nene’s suitors😏... Oh, but nothing lasts forever and those sweet moments will come to an end when they have to face their cruel reality, in this world, they don’t get to choose neither their battles or the ones they love.

Now more of Roxanne, because I seriously enjoy her work so much (I’m sure everyone knows by now lmao sdkj) 

Night of the Phantom King by lilaflo 

This one is a spooky one. Nene’s regret for never realizing who she truly loves takes her to mourn her deceased friend Amane and cry on his grave in a Halloween night, then suddenly the Phantom King comes to take her away👀 & he looks suspiciously familiar... Beautiful world building btw, also the ending is just, excellent. 

12 Year Romance by lilaflo

Amane meets Nene at the Tanabata festival, she’s older than him, but he falls for her instantly, fast forward, Amane is now in middle school, he’s a troublemaker, & gets constantly into fights, but he swears the new school nurse looks familiar... he then realizes it’s her and thinks it must be fate!!!... This one hits close to home bc I’ve been in this situation irl, so I can confirm all of Nene’s struggles are real (and ofc how a love with an age gap should be handled the correct way, this fic really teaches you many life lessons hahaha) 

took a sip then another sip, then you turned and said to me by chivalrousamour 

This autor has a bunch of good JSHK fics!! I recommend you check their AO3 out, bec you may find something you like for sure! But, this is my absolute fav from them. Nene is a mangaka, celebrating the finishing of her long serialized manga, while Amane is a delivery boy who happens to find her in a very questionable state in her house👀 (it’s all family friendly ofc, anon, I’m not a slimy pervert like some ghost boy)

Maid for Each Other by corologs ( @corologs )

Courtney has this amazing College AU collection series that I encourage you to check out!!! But Maid for each other is my fav!!! So it’s the Yugi twins birthday, and it’s Tsukasa’s turn to choose where they go to celebrate it... you can already tell where this is going... (let the chaos begin) & as the title said, it involves maids!!! (it has Kaicho wa maid sama vibes if you liked that anime~~)

If I Could Tell Her by corologs

What if the picture perfect arc plan was successful??? Well, this fic explores this idea, and it’s very interesting to read. I like how Amane and Hanako are two separate people here.

the horizon tries but it’s just not as kind on the eyes by sincerelyand ( @sunlightinourheadlights ) 

(Oh my sweet Karen, she writes such good fics, so go check her AO3 out as well!!) Amane and Yashiro are friends that share an apartment (& they were roommates-- OMG they were roommates), even if Amane has its complains, because Nene can be a handful sometimes (and in denial of her true feelings as always, are we even surprised at this point?) he loves her dearly anyways😭.

for real, this time by sourlemoncandy  ( @sour-lemon-candy )

Did somebody say fake dating AU?????? Because hell yeah I did asajj I loved reading this so much!! Nene and Amane are childhood friends, and Nene overhears some girls talking about Amane and how one of them plans to ask him out... but she senses these girls are up to no good so she... well, you gotta read it to find out more~~ it’s no fun If I tell ya everything hehe... so go go go!!

lemon cream by sourlemoncandy

Amane and Nene, just two good friends having a road trip and sharing donuts... what could go wrong??  😏 seriously, I loved this fic so much!! Instant fav! Also makes me wanna try some good sweet donuts...

Trip Down Memory Lane by insipidenvy ( @insipidenvy )

This fic is so sweet. I have such a huge attachment to it, because I read it when I really needed some fluff in my life hahaha. It’s sort of a collection of memories between Amane and Yashiro’s relationship over the years. So heartwarming... if you need the fluffs you’ll enjoy this very much!!

The Radish Princess and the Toilet Prince by insipidenvy

This is my favorite fic from insipidenvy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You know how I am a slut for Royalty AUs so that’s why!!!!! Also Toilet Prince!! hahahaha such a good nickname lmao. I love how they bond over their insecurities, it’s very relatable tbh. 

Between Wind and Water by WingSongHalo  ( @wingsonghalo )

My beautiful Wing always delivering the good Hananene content, as she should!! This fic is so fun to read!! I laughed so hard at Nene and Hanako being awkward with each other!!! So you know how Hanako is super clingy with Nene, he’s always touching & hugging her, but this time something weird happens and he’s so distant~~ Nene doesn’t want to admit it at first, but she misses his clingy ghost boy~~ you’ll have a good time reading this for sure!  

The Monster's Bride by Hammsters ( @uglierdaikon )

Have you heard about the myth of Cupid and Psyche? Well this fic rewrites it in a very Hananene way <3 hehe I loved it so much (as I’m a huge fan of mythology~) To sum it up, Nene is fated to marry a monster that lives in the mountains so she’s devastated... to her surprise, her husband is far from what she expected... she only had one rule to obey and well... we all know how reckless Nene is so... you go find out what happens next now!! hehehe

Morning Reflections by FalalalaLa  ( @miss-sternennacht )

So you’ve heard of Hanako watching Nene sleep, but what about Nene watching Amane sleep???!! this fic offers you this and so much more fluff <3 Also Nene remembering how they met and how their relationship evolved during the years, aww <3 

Cursed Coin by DaikonSenpai  ( @daikonsenpai )

There’s a school dance, Yashiro’s supposed to be dancing with Kou (since she can’t go with Hanako, which causes him to be jelly~~ and bitter), but she loses a coin Aoi gave her for good luck so she goes out and searches for it on the last place she saw it, the school fountain. Suddenly Hanako spots her, what’s she doing outside??? is she drunk or something?? what happens next you may find out when you read it~~~

Between Love and Hope by Baronesscmd (SweeterThanYourDarkestSin) ( @baronesscmd )

Oh to be Nene and get to sleep between the Yugi twins... God really has favorites uh... ISTG, this collection of fics is so cute. I love how Nene loves the twins so much in this AU, they have their little cute family. She ofc is in love with Amane, but their relationship with Tsukasa is so tender... it’s mostly this trio having fluffy moments together to heal your soul... if you need some, you’ll get it here for sure hahaha. 

Ghost of You (And All the Futures We've Forgotten) by Indigo_Floof  milkteamoon  ( @indigosienna , @spades-queen )

So anon you may have been wondering, well this bitch likes fluff only???? how about some angst for a change, uh? DAMN, OKAY THEN, here you have some angst to rip your soul out and wish you never sent me this ask in the 1st place, bec of the emotional damage this fic will leave you sdajjsa, also if you liked “Erased”, you’ll love this fic too! 

Hanako of the Opera by zxrstan

Finally, but not less important, me being annoying about Hanako of the Opera & POTO AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!! This fic is based of the AU Aidairo created mostly, it’s really fun to read if you didn’t get much of what was happening during the Hanako of the Opera event, it has a nice ending also! very satisfying I must say. 

AAAAND THIS IS THE END OF MY ALL TIME FAV LIST OMG;;;; Kudos for me for searching through all my damn AO3 and Google Chrome history (from both my PC and phone, since I am a FOOL and forgot my AO3 password so I read a lot of these in the past as a guest before recovering my password LMAO, please be patient with me omg, and also if you see me bookmarking them now, you know why 😭) 

Kudos to all of my writer homies as well, I love and appreciate all of you so much!! you have no idea! 💖

I hope you find this list useful, anon!! Thank you for sending me this ask and have a wonderful day! 

Ps. Please everyone feel free to add more fics to this list if you want! this is all my personal picks, but I’m aware there are a lot more fics that I haven’t read and deserve as much recognition as the ones I listed!

[jean-kayak]

Chapter 14

Summary: A relaxing summer at home after your second year of college sounds nice, until someone comes back and makes it anything but

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Warnings: really this chapter is just fluff, underage drinking (reader is 20), Eren being a huge SIMP and SAP, reader gets a little tipsy, suggestive like once bc its Eren

Word Count: 3408

A/N: This one is not even close to being as long as the next chapter, but yeah, I really went in on the fluff and cuteness on this lmao enjoy

Tags: @iwascrybaby​, @germinvasion​, @styxtm​, @prxttyguardian​, @bigdaddyzawa​, @erensblackgirlfriend​, @kbbvbz​, @tomsadversary​, @pettyluxury​, @protectpancakes​

Chapter Summary: A mini vacation makes Eren come to a stark realization

Playlist for this Chapter:

1. While We're Young- Jhené Aiko

2. Morning Glory- Kehlani

3. Normal Girl-SZA

4. Off The Grid- Alina Baraz ft. Khalid

You raise your eyebrows when he tells you that you need a pack a bag, and you frown at him in suspicion, but he doesn't even blink at you as he goes back to whatever he was doing.

Your parents weren't home at the time you were leaving, so you just told them that you were hanging with Ymir for a couple of days, Jean wasn't going to be home, and you were going to be back before him, so you figured you didn't need to tell him anything.

So Eren decides to leave late at night on Friday, and ten minutes later he texts you that he's outside, and then he's driving down the street and to who knows where. You yawn widely, tears forming in your eyes, and you wipe them away as you notice that you've been driving for more than thirty minutes.

"You taking me somewhere in the country or something?" you ask, seeing that you don't recognize your surroundings anymore.

He chuckles as he reaches over to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. "I told you. It's a surprise, it's about a couple hours away."

You roll your eyes when he tells you it's a surprise but nod anyway even though that still doesn't tell you exactly where you're going, and he huffs when you say you're going to go to sleep for the rest of the ride, and as you doze off, you feel his lips on your hand.

You feel something shaking your shoulder, and you breathe in deeply as you peel your eyes open, looking around to see you're in a parking lot. "Where are we?" you ask with a yawn, looking ahead of you to see a big building about two stories tall.

"Furniture store." You frown, turning your head to look at him.

"A furniture store? Why?"

"Wanted to change up my apartment," he answers, getting out the car and you follow.

"And why did I have to come?" you ask, meeting him on his side of the truck as he locks it.

"To get you some practice, since you wanna do interior design. You can use my apartment as a project or something." You feel your face heating at the thought, and you mask it with a scrunch of your nose.

"You're a dork." He smirks softly as he wraps his arm around you, walking you towards the building.

"Only for you."

The automatic doors slide open, and the place is pretty huge, but not big enough where you feel like you might be lost, and you let him lead you whichever way. "Okay, so what do you start with?" he asks you, stopping at the living room section, and you shrug.

"Colors, I guess," you admit, looking at the different couches. "What's your favorite color?" you ask, absentmindedly running your hand over the back of an armchair.

"Any color that you look good in." You roll your eyes as you scoff, turning to look at him.

"Which is?"

"Everything." You chuckle as you push at his chest lightly, almost thinking it's a lost cause until he speaks up again. "I don't know. Dark green, maybe?"

You nod as you look at the different furniture. "Okay, that's a start. And sometimes, I look at how big you want something to be depending on what you want to use it for. So, for example, how big would you want your couch to be?"

"Big enough for us to have sex on." You drop your head as you scoff, having trouble fighting the smile off your face.

"You're insufferable." You're pretty sure Eren makes you walk through the entire store, looking at stuff that you know he doesn't even own, and you notice that he keeps asking you if you like certain things or not.

"Why does it matter if I like it or not? It's your apartment," you add, and he busies himself with pulling the drawers open on a desk while he keeps his other arm wrapped around your waist. He mumbles something that you don't catch, but you don't get to ask because he's pulling you somewhere else.

You're almost out of the place when your eyes land on the prettiest coffee table you've ever seen. You gasp in surprise, stopping in your tracks and walking towards it, pulling Eren with you.

It's a deep mahogany, glass on top, and there's storage for smaller things like magazines or coasters, and it's just right height, you never understood the appeal of coffee tables that are nearly touching the ground. "You like it?" Eren asks you, jumping you out of your trance.

"I love it," you breathe, running your hand over it softly. "But there's literally nowhere for me to put it," you joke, giving it one last look before you start to walk away, and you stop when you realize Eren's not following. "Are we leaving?" you ask, pointing towards the door, thinking that maybe he wanted to look at something else.

But then he's waving you off, walking towards you. "Yeah, let's go."

"You know we just passed the college Jean goes to, right?" you say, your eyebrows raised, and Eren just shrugs as he keeps his attention on the road.

"Yeah, so?"

"So? What if he sees us? He said he had something to do for school," you stress, starting to feel yourself panic a little.

"Don't worry. Seriously, he's not going to find out." He sounds confident, so it calms you a little bit, but that panic is still underlying. He grabs your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "I'm being serious. I already checked beforehand, we're fine."

You nod this time, his words reassuring you as you start to notice the light poles on the street you're driving down are covered in decorations. The further he drives down the road, the more decorations seem to be lining the buildings. "Is there some kind of festival?" you ask, looking around.

Eren shrugs as he pulls the truck into a parking spot on the street. "Let's find out," he says, and you're once again following him out, and when you get out, you can hear music playing. You follow the sound of the music, and you reach what must be the main area because there's suddenly food trucks lining the streets, a bunch of activities to do, and a crowd of people dancing.

They've cut off the whole street for the occasion, and you smile widely as you look around. "I think this is some festival for the town or something," Eren says, remembering hearing something about it before he went back home, and you bounce on your feet excitedly.

"Well, we can't just stand here!" You grab his hand, almost pulling him off his feet as you run towards the thicker part of the crowd. He laces his fingers with yours as you both walk through to look at the different venues and the different food they have.

He nearly buys everything that your eyes linger on for too long, and you firmly tell him to not buy you anything else, to which he just responds with a roll of his eyes, both of you knowing that he's still going to do it.

He watches you fondly when you get excited about the face painted, but he denies it when you say that he should get one. "Oh, come on, you have to get one," you urge, feeling the paint on your face starting to harden.

The person who did yours tells you that you could paint on Eren's face and that only makes you more excited. You force him to sit down on the bench as you look through the options, grabbing his wrist when he tries to sneak away.

"Just pick one, please?" you say, and he gives you a warm look as he smiles softly.

"Fine." He gives in, and you grab the brush excitedly. "Anything yellow," he responds when you ask him what he wants.

"Why yellow? Because I look good in it?" you tease, picking out something that's easy for you to draw.

"It's the color you picked on the fortune teller." You freeze, looking up at him, before smiling softly as you dip the paintbrush in the paint.

"You remember that?" you ask shyly, and he would nod, but you're already starting to paint on his face.

"Of course I do. It's the first time I talked to you." He huffs softly when he sees you shy away again before you focus on the flower you're drawing. He chuckles softly as he watches you stick your tongue out in concentration, and you pull away with a frown.

"Why are you laughing at me?" you ask, grabbing his chin to angle his cheek closer towards you.

He moves before you can turn his face, pecking a kiss on your nose. "Because you look cute." You shake your head, feeling your face flush warm before grabbing his chin again and moving his head where you want it.

"Okay," you sigh when you finish, putting the brush down, and you hold the mirror up for him to see what it looks like, and you put your head on the side of it. "Do you like it?" you ask impatiently, and he nods as he stands, pulling you up with him.

"Yeah, it looks good for someone with no art skills," he jokes, making you roll your eyes but you laugh anyway, and you both walk away as he takes out his phone.

You peek over his shoulder, not realizing he opened the camera app, and he plants his lips on your cheek that doesn't have paint on it, snapping the picture, and he locks his phone before you can see it. You're trying to convince him to let you see it, both of you walking closer to the music, and suddenly you're being pulled into the dancing crowd.

Both of your eyes widen in surprise, but then you notice a kid grabbing your hands, and you laugh instantly as you start dancing, blending into the crowd, but to Eren, you're the only one he sees.

And huh.

Is that what this feels like? He's always seen it in movies, read it in books, but he's never experienced it like this, the feeling so strong. He unlocks his phone, his heart skipping a beat when he looks over the picture, the biggest grin on his face before he looks back up at you.

You look like you're having the time of your life, and he realizes that he's fallen so far, so fast in so little time. He feels like he's living in some kind of movie, and he always thought it was unrealistic to feel this way about you in a short amount of time, but the longer he looks at you, the more he believes that it's more than possible.

And he looks back down at his phone, making the picture his lock screen.

"Let me have some more," you whisper, and Eren rolls his eyes as he scoffs, checking to make sure the coast is clear before handing you his glass.

"Woah, woah," he says when you take a huge sip of wine, taking the glass out of your hand. "Ease up will you," he chastises, setting the glass on the stool next to the both of you.

"I have to get as much as I can before they see me," you respond, having trouble hiding your giggles as the alcohol fills your system.

The festival had started to die down, and he saw a sign for wine and art. He knew they weren't going to let you have any, but he was having a hard time denying you, and now he scoffs at your tipsy state. "We're supposed to be painting," he responds, grabbing the paintbrush.

"Well, what are we drawing?" you say, your words slurring just a bit, and he shrugs as he wraps his arm tighter around you.

"Whatever you want," he says, adjusting the both of you on the stool you're sitting on. He was surprised the both of you could fit on it, but he only took that as an excuse to hold you. "How about four flowers?"

Your eyebrows crease before you turn to look at you. "Why four?" He smiles at you, and you feel like you should know the answer, but you can't think of it. "The fortune teller?" you try, and he nods, making you roll your eyes.

"Why are you such a sap?" you reply playfully, and he laughs softly before putting the brush in your hand, then putting his hand on top of yours. He guides your hand over the canvas as you start painting. "How'd you know that these are my favorite?"

"Lucky guess." It's the flowers you had in your hair at the wedding.

You frown at him again, but go back to painting anyway, the strokes not as clean due to a variety of reasons, but the outline comes out good, and he helps you color them in.

He lets you have one last sip before he tells you that you're not getting anymore, and you frown but listen anyway. "Why aren't you drinking?"

"Because I'm driving," he replies lamely, and you nod softly as your mouth falls open.

"Oh. You're so responsible."

He rolls his eyes. "Thanks," he says dryly.

You both finish your painting around the same time everyone else does, or rather people are starting to get less incoherent, so they can't focus on painting, and Eren takes the canvas, leading you out of the gallery with an arm around your waist.

"I'm so full and tired," you whine, your steps a little wobbly, and he chuckles as he carefully puts the canvas in the backseat before helping you in.

He starts driving away and about ten minutes in, he realizes you're really quiet, so he assumes you've fallen asleep, but then you gasp, making him jump out of his skin and almost swerve off the road.

"What the fuck--"

"A drive-in movie, we have to go!" you yell, probably a little bit more loudly than you needed, pointing out the window, and he looks to see an empty lot with cars and a giant movie screen.

He finds himself already slowing down and turning into the lot without even thinking about it, backing in so that you can watch the movie from the bed of the truck. He gets out first, letting the tail down so that he can set up some of the blankets he still has in his truck before helping you up, your steps shaky as you get in.

He lays down first, and you follow, and he chuckles as you instantly grab a blanket, wrapping yourself up before you lay on him. "Don't fall asleep, this was your idea," he speaks up when he hears you go quiet again, and you shift slightly.

"M not sleep. I'm just tired," you mumble, making him huff fondly.

The movie that's playing is something he's never seen before, and he's actually pretty focused on it when he feels you moving, and he just assumes that you're trying to get comfortable.

"Eren," he hears you whisper, and he hums to show that he heard you, keeping his focus on the movie.

"What, baby?" he says when you say his name again, and he tears his eyes from the screen to look down at you.

"I want a kiss," you say softly, and he half rolls his eyes before leaning down anyway. "One more." He sighs fondly before leaning down again, cupping your face in his hand, and he pulls away when you try and deepen the kiss.

"You're drunk, baby," he tells you, and you frown as you shake your head.

"No, I'm not," you argue, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Intoxicated," he tries, and you purse your lips as you think.

"Maybe." He huffs again before kissing you on the forehead.

"I'll kiss you again when you're sober." You groan softly in protest, but you don't say anything else as you turn your attention back to the movie.

~

Eren rolls his eyes when he hears you complain about being tired for the millionth time that night as he guides you into the dark apartment. He leads you to his room, catching you every time you almost fall, and the moment your eyes land on the bed, you're flopping on it face down.

"Hey, you gotta change first," he tells you, dropping your bag on the floor softly, but you groan softly, turning your head so that you can breathe.

"M fine," you argue, and he scoffs as he walks over to you.

"Trust me, you'll want to get changed." You groan as you roll over, unbuttoning your shorts, sliding them down your legs before letting them fall to the floor. You roll back onto your stomach, reaching under your shirt to unhook your bra, maneuvering it out from under you before it joins your shorts on the floor.

"Are you happy now?" you groan, and he rolls his eyes again as he moves back to your bag. You feel the bed dip next to you as he climbs in, but you don't move.

"Can you sit up for me?" he asks, and you sigh, turning your head to look at him. "It'll only take a second."

You sit up slowly as you start to feel a headache coming on, blinking slowly, and you notice that he's putting your bonnet on, and he catches you when you try and lay back down, not letting you go until all of your hair is in it.

"Now you can lay down." He barely gets the words out as your body hits the mattress again, and you get comfortable as you snuggle your face into the pillow, and he notices that you're blinking gets heavier, but you're looking at him.

"What?" he questions softly, running the back of his fingers over your face gently, and you give him a sleepy smile.

"You're really pretty," you mumble, and he huffs in surprise as he feels his face heating up.

"You think I'm pretty?"

You nod as fast as your body can let you, sighing heavily. "You're like...like," you nod again. "Yeah, you're like really pretty." And then you're out like a light.

Your soft snores fill the room, and he finds himself smiling fondly as he watches you sleep, and before he can think, he's slowly getting out of the bed and grabbing his sketchbook. He slides back in the bed, and all of the images from earlier today come flooding into his head and onto the pages.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, filling every last inch of the paper in you, but he can't stop until he's drawn everything. He draws your face when you were concentrating on painting on his face, he draws you attempting to concentrate on the painting even though the wine was making you even more incoherent, and he finds himself smiling for long enough that his face hurts.

When he gets all of those images out of his head, he looks back over at you before starting on the next drawing, chuckling softly at how your face is smushed by the pillow.

And he wonders if it could work between the both of you, but he doesn't know how you feel, and he doesn't want to do anything that will cause you to stop talking to him like you did back then even though he still doesn't know what he did.

But he's scared to ask, and part of him thinks it's the reason for that conflicted look you have in your eyes sometimes, and he wants to ask you what he did so that he can fix it because he doesn't want to hurt you. Not when you mean so much to him.

When he thinks that he's gotten most of the images drawn, and when he's about to run out of room is where he should call it a night, putting the book somewhere you won't be able to find it easily before laying down next to you.

You breathe in deeply, shifting closer to him in your sleep, and he carefully lays you on his chest, and the familiar weight of you puts him to sleep.

|Chapter 13|Masterlist|Chapter 15|

[queenofimagines]

Chocolates

Request: “can i get something for jj where he's just SUCH a softie & always wants to be held by his girl, been friends since they were lil?? & maybe he finds out that she ran into his dad in public & he recognized her & said some shit abt how she could do better than jj / deserves better & she stood up for him w/out a single hesitation. & when jj finds out he just wants to hold/be held by her & then she calls him "baby boy" or "bubba" & he just breaks & needs needs NEEDS bc he feels so vulnerable & loved”

Warnings: None

JJ didn’t have many things in his life that he cared to hold onto. His lighter? Nothing special. His hats? He could always steal more. His sunglasses? Well, he didn’t really wear them anyway. But you? Now you were something completely different. You had been there for JJ his whole life, having met at a young age in some obscure playground that he was sure was torn down years ago to accommodate the expansion that Figure 8 had undergone. He didn’t care that it was gone, not when he still had you in his life, not when he could still make memories with you at The Wreck or on the HMS Pogue. All that mattered to JJ was you, and as long as he had you, he had the world.

JJ was at the market with Kiara, picking up some supplies for a day out on the marsh. Kiara needed to run to the store for snacks and drinks while JJ had wanted to tag along to make sure that he got the exact chips he wanted. He also tagged along in order to get you those chocolates you loved so much. They were rather hard to come by in The Cut and while he definitely would have asked Pope’s dad since you didn’t want to (something about not wanting to make his job harder and not having enough money, although JJ knew Pope’s dad would have never charged you, you were his favorite Pogue after his son) Pope’s dad didn’t particularly like him very much. Pope’s dad probably would have helped JJ since it was for you but he still would have rather avoided the whole conversation, especially after the day he’d had. First, the stupid Kook family who hired him to mow their lawn had shorted him on his pay, claiming he had knocked over one of their garden gnomes, effectively scratching it and thus ruining it, apparently. He couldn’t see a scratch anywhere and he was sure that they just wanted to short him just because, maybe to flex their power or whatever. Then, his dad had tore into him just before heading to the same grocery store hours earlier. He promised his dad that he’d bring home the same amount that the Kook family had promised him, and bringing home less than what was promised definitely didn’t go over well. Shaking the memory from his head, JJ decided to focus on the task at hand.

“Kie, please! I don’t know what they’re called but they’re small and come in a bag that’s usually resealable and-”

“JJ! I don’t know what kind of chocolates you’re talking about!” Kiara sighed, “JJ I have literally never seen you work this hard for anything, not even for yourself, why would you work this hard for chocolate?”

“They’re for Y/N, she never gets to eat them because they’re so hard to find.” Kiara smiled at that. She knew how in love JJ was with you, he had been for as long as she could remember. Kie liked how you seemed to balance JJ out without restraining his wild personality and how your family had accepted him as if he was their own. She also loved that she wasn’t the only girl in the group anymore, having gained an instant best friend when you arrived.

“Just ask someone JJ, I’m sure the guy at the counter probably knows.” Nodding, JJ headed towards the front of the store while Kiara turned back towards the vegetable section, picking out some baby carrots and trying to find some ranch or hummus near by. JJ rolled his eyes, knowing that the only person who would eat them would be Kiara.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have these little chocolates that look kind of like-”

“JJ, my man! I didn’t think you’d be in today. Are you getting stuff for your dad? He came in earlier looking for some cigarettes and beer, but he didn’t end up buying anything. Instead he just caused a big ruckus that scared off my customers and left! Jerk.”

“Wait, he fought with someone?” JJ asked. JJ knew his dad had a temper but people weren’t always good at seperating JJ from his dad. He’d need more fingers if he were to count the many time he’d been attacked for his dad’s actions and he certainly didn’t need to add anymore to the list.

“Yeah, he fought with Y/N. You didn’t know? Isn’t she your girlfriend?” JJ shook his head.

“What was the fight about?” JJ asked, become agitated at the thought of you having any contact with his dad, let alone actually fighting with him. The clerk behind the counter rubbed his neck nervously, knowing JJ wasn’t going to like the answer.

“Well... Y/N was already here when your dad came in. I guess she found whatever she was looking for because she was making her way towards the counter when she bumped into your dad. Like head on, she even dropped the stuff she was holding. Your dad recognized her I guess cause he started saying something to her, I couldn’t hear what he said but whatever it was obviously didn’t sit well with her cause she looked like she was getting irritated. She said something to him about you, at least I heard her say your name a few times. Then she left, your dad leaving just a little after her.” By now JJ was on edge, knowing that whatever went down between you two couldn’t have been good. All he could think about was making sure you were okay. He quickly left the store, telling Kiara as he passed her that he needed to talk to you.

From the store to your house wasn’t very far, but at the pace JJ kept, the distance seemed even shorter. He quickly knocked on your front door, hoping you’d answer before he vibrated out of his skin. The door swung open, except it wasn’t your face he was looking at, but your father’s.

“Hey JJ, what’re you doing here? I thought you guys weren’t hanging out until later.”

“Hi, Mr. Y/L/N, you’re right but I just need to talk to Y/N really quick, can I come in?” By now JJ was practically bouncing on his toes. He loved your dad, he truly did, but right now he just needed to talk to you.

“Yeah come on in! She’s in her room but she’s taking a nap and, well, you know what she’s like when she wakes up don’t you?” Your dad laughed. JJ muttered a quick thanks before running to your room, gently closing the door when he spotted you sprawled out on top of your blankets fast asleep. He walked to the side of your bed and sat down, softly shaking your shoulder to wake you up.

“JJ?” You asked groggily, stretching before your eyes went wide as you abruptly sat up. “Oh my god did I sleep in? I was so sure I set an alarm.”

“You’re not late sweetheart, I just came early. I just needed to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?”

“The guy at the store told me you ran into my dad today.”

“Oh.”

“What happened?”

“Well, I went to the store to pick up some snacks and when I was ready to pay I ran into your dad.” You didn’t really want to keep going, you knew he’d be upset by what his dad said and he really didn’t need his confidence to be any lower than it already was.

“And? I know there’s more to it Y/N.”

“Um... H-he said that I was a quite a catch, pretty and smart, and that I could have done better than... than you. He told me I should breakup with you.” JJ looked down, gripping you blanket so tight that his knuckles turned white.

“But I told him that wasn’t happening!” You quickly addd, beginning to get angry again as you thought about the whole interaction. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, there’s no way I’m just letting you go.”

JJ gently took ahold of your hand. He knew that you cared for him, but he never thought you’d be the type to stand up to his dad of all people, and he definitely didn’t think that you felt the same about him as he did you. His heart swelled at the thought that you had defended him, but he also felt guilty at the thought of you having to do so.

Seeing JJ look so defeated hurt your heart, more so at the thought that you might have caused it. 

“I’m sorry, Bubba. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad, sweetheart, just surprised is all.” He quickly pulled you to him, kissing your forehead before laying down next to you and wrapping his arms around you. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For defending me. You didn’t have to.” You moved so that you were looking at him, eyes wide.

“Of course I did! No one talks shit about my boyfriend, especially not his own dad.” You said, laying your head on his chest after having made your point. Just then your alarm went off, signaling that you both would have to leave soon if you were going to be on time to meet up with the Pogues. You tried to get up but JJ held onto you tightly, not allowing you to move much as you tried to wriggle out of his grip.

“JJ we need to go if we don’t want to be late.” You laughed. JJ shoved his head into the crook of your neck, pulling you even closer to him.

“No, forget the Pogues, let’s just stay here and cuddle.” You wanted to protest, really you did but the way JJ was holding you, as if his life depended on it, let you know that he needed you right now to just be there, so without saying a word, you turned over and held him to you, running your hand through his hair until he fell asleep, soon drifting off with him.

[ffwriterbts]

Lunar- BTS Werewolf AU Part 5

AN: As I’ve said before, if slowburn BTS werewolf AUs that have springlings of angst, smut, and fluff, this is the story for you! Other than that, please leave a like or comment so I know you’re enjoying the story!! The sections should start getting longer as I keep updating :)

Also! Let me know if you want to be on a tag list for this story!

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: General angst; mental health issues; soulmate themes if you squint: seriously if you aren’t into angst don’t read this bc :)))) it’s angsty

Posted: 16 Jan 2021

Tag List: @happynightmareprincess

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When YN woke up, swaddled in the softness of Jimin’s sweater, with Yoongi’s hoodie balled up in her arms, the teddy that Hobi got her resting next to her head, the light was streaming through the curtains. The scents of the three boys swirled around her in a way that was so familiar, so calming, that she almost forgot that she wasn’t still with them.

Sighing, she rolled over, opening her eyes properly for the first time. A deep sort of disappointment settled into an ever-growing pit in her stomach as her eyes flitted across her own bedroom for the first time in months.

Sadness hits her like a wave, slamming into her with an unknown, unrelenting force that left her gasping for air.

Wimpers fell from her lips as she curled into herself, not wanting to get up. All YN really wanted to do was to do was seek out the same comfort she had been getting when she was with them.

YN buries her face in Yoongi’s hoodie, willing herself not to cry anymore. Rationally, she knew she shouldn’t feel so bad. She knew she shouldn’t be so hard on herself, shouldn’t let the pit of hurt and anger in her chest rule her actions.

But honestly, YN wasn’t thinking rationally. She wasn’t removing herself from her feelings like she had done for the entirety of her life. She wasn’t putting the reminders of the boys she had called housemates and friends for the past two months out of sight.

Instead, YN just squeezed her eyes closed, ignoring the gaping hole in her chest and breathing in the scent of the boys that swirled around her.

It was because of this deep pain that YN took almost two hours to rouse herself out of bed. It would have taken even longer, but eventually nature calls and hunger gnaws at you so much you have to eat something, even if you don’t really want to.

YN trudged her way to the bathroom, then to the kitchen. The small teddy that Hoseok had gotten her was held tightly to her chest as she stumbled around her house, the ever-so-soft material of Jimin’s sweater feeling almost scratchy against her sensitive skin.

She was cold. In fact the whole house was absolutely freezing, but she couldn’t bring herself to wrap up in a blanket or put on real pants. Looking through the kitchen, she quickly realized that she didn’t have much in the way of food she could eat without much hassle.

Shivering, YN ran a hand through her hair, grabbing a small bag of some snack food she had never seen before and stumbling her way to the study she found so much comfort in. Absently, she opened the snack, nibbling on it and tasting nothing.

Silently, YN thanked herself for setting up her laptop in its usual spot the day before. She knew the only thing that she’d be able to do for a while would be to write something terribly sad and angsty.

And that’s exactly what she did. She nibbled on the snack, which she eventually realized was one of the things that Jin and Yoongi had brought to her home on the day of the attack, typing away furiously as she tried to express the emotions that were swirling around inside of her.

She didn’t remember grabbing a bottle of water, but there was one on her desk when she withdrew from her typing enough to realize she was thirsty. She chugged it like she had never had water before in her life, staring vacantly at the computer screen. The words she had been writing for god knows how long swirled before her eyes as she realized just how tired she actually was.

She stood with a groan, her back feeling more stiff than it had in months. YN pulled the sleeves of the sweater down over her hands, picking up the teddy from its place next to her computer and clutching it to her chest again. She went straight back to her room, shivering as she slid her feet across the cold floors, longing for the warmth of another body to sedate the chill that seemed to have settled in her bones.

She felt like she was floating now, the same hole bleeding in her chest as the pain turns to a sort of uncomfortable numbness. Her whole body felt like it had just frozen in place with no room for emotions, good or bad.

Snidely, she thought about the way the boys would come to her with worry etched on their beautiful faces if they had been close enough to her that they could feel her emotions. As strange as it was to get used to in the beginning, having seven other people who could instantly tell when you’re having a bad day, YN actually really enjoyed feeling known like that.

She liked that they would ask her what was wrong and actually listen. She liked that they would shake their heads at her when they realized she just had forgotten to eat lunch and was grumpy because of that. She liked that each of them would approach her negative emotions differently, having their own ways to distract her and make her feel better. Whether it was because her injuries were particularly bad or because she just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, they were there to cheer her up in their own special ways.

They were bitter, the memories swirling around her head. YN buried herself under the blankets of her bed, cold settling in her bones as she held Yoongi’s hoodie to her cheek.

She thought of how Jin would sigh at her, shaking his head and telling her to go get Yoongi, the three of them were going to try out this new recipe that was too complicated for just one person to make. He never expected her to talk to him, but was always a sympathetic ear when she decided to open up.

She thought of how Yoongi had found her one too many times, sitting on the couch in his studio long after everyone else had gone to bed, typing away on her computer like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. He’d never say much then, instead clearing his throat and suggesting they both go to bed, closing the laptop with one hand and helping her up with the other. He’d give her a soft, gummy smile and open the doors for her, easily lifting her off her feet if she was having pain or trouble with her ankle. What she wouldn’t give now, to be carried to her room by Yoongi and told to get some sleep for once by the man who never seemed to sleep at night.

She thought about her energetic discussions with Namjoon about topics she really cared about, and how he would seat himself across from her in the library when she’d been reading for a little too long, drawing her out of her reprieve with discussion. His eyes would crinkle slightly at the sides, gleaming as his dimple was on full display at her becoming more and more passionate, forgetting whatever had been on her mind before, even if just for a few minutes.

She thought of how, whenever Hobi would notice her getting restless, he would ask her questions about what kind of music he should try dancing to next, or about what kind of interesting dances he should rope Jimin and Jungkook into doing with him. He would give that sunshine smile to her as she gave him ideas, making her feel like she really mattered.

She thought of how Jimin would try to curl his much bigger body into her lap, careful not to put too much pressure on her bad leg, just in case. He would snuggle her, usually half smothering her with praise and questions until she was laughing again. He would always plant a kiss on her forehead before he got up again, chattering away about how she “just needed some Jimin cuddles” with the biggest smile on his face.

She thought of how Taehyung would pick her up every time he caught her hobbling from room to room, chastising her in a half-joking, half-serious way for walking when they all knew she wasn’t supposed to be. Every time, her ears would get hot as she mumbled an excuse about not wanting to bother anyone or not really being in pain, even though it sent shots of agony up her leg every time she tried to walk until just two weeks before she left the house. Taehyung would just shake his head, his voice reverberating through her chest as he told her that he was her “trusty steed” and that he took his duties very seriously.

And she thought of Jungkook, the one she was closest in age to, who was still awkward around emotions. He would offer her up some of whatever snack he was having, and insist that they go play another round of whatever game he had decided was his favorite for the time being. He never asked what was wrong, or why she didn’t feel good, instead he quietly tried to take her mind off of it, which she appreciated.

YN cried herself to sleep again that night.

~~~~~~

The week passed torturously slow. YN was in a depressive spiral, freezing cold despite the warmth of her home, swaddled in blankets and clutching onto the things that she had been left like they were her saving graces. The boys felt disjointed, like they had a part of them ripped away and it made everything more difficult to do for them.

As much as it had pained them, they kept true to Namjoon’s plan and didn’t go anywhere near YN for the entirety of the week, trying to be sure that YN was what she seemed to be. If their week was any indication, they had found a lost Omega.

Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook had spent most of the week trying (and failing) to convince Namjoon to let them be the ones to patrol over where YN lived. Namjoon was able to see right through this though, telling them to stay away from there and that he would be the only one that goes over into that part of their territory until the week is up.

Begrudgingly, they listen. Though not without trying to convince Hoseok to do their dirty work for them, which he refused.

When it came to the week being done, they had their answer. YN had to either be one of the lost or she was able to pack bond, for whatever reason. Once Namjoon was fully sure that they needed YN with them, in one way or another, he rounded up the boys.

“You all know that it’s been a week since YN left us. And I think I speak for all of us when I say that this week has been absolutely torture.” Namjoon starts, pacing back and forth in the living room, looking at the boys before him.

“Right Joon, what have you decided?” None of them pay attention to who it was that said it, but they were all looking at Namjoon anxiously.

“We need her here. With us. She’s started the pack bond, even though we all know she couldn’t have meant to.” Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, pausing his pacing to stand in the middle of the room, turning to the six other men he called his family.

“Hyung, what are we going to actually do?” It’s Jimin who speaks up this time, shifting nervously in his seat.

“Tomorrow morning, be ready to drive over to hers. It’s almost an hour, because we will have to go around the forest completely, but we need to explain to her what’s going on and let her make the choice for herself as to what to do.” Namjoon takes a deep breath. “Jin can drive the one car, and Yoongi can drive the other, since they have both taken the drive before. But whatever happens tomorrow, we have to respect YN and her decisions.”

They all agreed, excitement building as they chattered amongst each other.

“One of you needs to come and help me gather some snacks to take with us in the morning, I know you guys will just be absolutely starving if we don’t have something for the ride.” Jin stands and smiles fondly at the three youngest, who smile sheepishly back at him. Everyone in the room knew that the comment was directed at them, especially Jungkook.

It was Jungkook who followed the elder into the kitchen, excitedly packing what seemed like enough snack foods to feed twenty people, thought they both knew that between the seven of them, they’d all be gone or close to it by the end of the next day.

~~~~~~

When YN woke up the morning the pack was coming to see her, something compelled her to get out of bed without the two or three hour upset lounging session she had been growing used to.

For the first time since returning to her home, she put on a pot of coffee and found some cereal that she wouldn’t mind eating dry. YN sat at her kitchen counter, wearing Yoongi’s hoodie like a dress, sipping coffee that was far too hot and way too bitter for her liking, crunching on cereal.

YN was completely zoned out, doing these things without thinking about what she was really doing. One hand was alternating between bringing the half empty coffee cup to her mouth or grabbing a few pieces of cereal at a time, the other clutching that teddy bear to her chest like it would fill the gaping void.

It was because of this autopilot mode that YN didn’t hear the knocking at her door until it was fairly loud. Confused and not thinking at all, she went and opened the door paying absolutely no attention to the fact that she hadn’t gotten dressed for the day yet and she was not dressed appropriately to be seeing anyone just yet.

She is met with the sight of Namjoon’s smiling face looking down on her, his deep and polite voice asking her if they could come in as the other boys stood behind him, clearly impatient.

“Y-yeah of course” YN’s voice is rough from not having spoken for almost a whole week, other than to let sobs fall from her lips. She shakes her head as she moves to the side, letting the pack into her home.

It felt strange, seeing the object of all of her emotions in the last week right there in her home, milling around the place in a curious fashion.

It is right then when she becomes fully aware of the fact that, not only is she clutching onto the teddy that Hobi got her, but she’s also not wearing any pants. Sure, Yoongi’s hoodie might as well have been a dress on her much smaller frame, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel exposed as the seven men made their way into her home.

As comfortable as she was with them, she could never forget just how large they were in comparison to her. Or the strength that was so carefully hidden in their lithe bodies.

“Ehm- make yourselves at home. I’m going to get changed.” YN turns on her heel, ears hot as she hurries to her room, embarrassment rolling off of her in waves.

The boys, so used to being naked or close to it with each other because of the changes and the nature of their relationships with each other, honestly didn’t register anything weird with her appearance. They shot confused glances at each other as they watched YN retreat, but shrugged it off once they realized they could see her legs.

YN returned after a couple minutes. She had left the teddy bear in her room, and thrown a pair of leggings and Taehyung’s beanie on, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself. She couldn’t help the immense feeling of comfort at the knowledge the boys, her boys, were in her home again.

“Ah YN!” Hoseok is the first one to notice that YN had returned, giving her his sunshine smile. YN gives a little wave, standing awkwardly in the entrance to her living room and kitchen. She’s unsure of why they’re there, or what was expected of her, making her feel almost like a stranger in her own home.

It doesn’t take more than twenty seconds for Taehyung and Jimin to have her seated between them on the couch, each of them practically smothering her in cuddles from either side. YN is giggling before long, feeling like she was finally coming home. The two boys were being almost too loud as they exclaimed how much they had missed her.  

“YN!” Jin shouts from the kitchen, expecting to find at least a little bit of something in her fridge that he could whip up for lunch for all of them. He had a feeling that they would be there for quite a while.“Why is your kitchen empty? Do you not eat when we don’t feed you?”

YN feels her ears get hot again as she mumbles something about not having been hungry as Jin just scolds her more. As much as she hated the scolding, she couldn’t deny that she had missed Jin’s semi-parental attitude towards her. From their spots on either side of her, Taehyung and Jimin joke about how they’ll protect YN from the “fierce scolding” of Jin.

“Alright, enough Hyung. Boys.” Namjoon speaks, bringing the attention to him. “We are here for a reason, after all. YN, would it be alright if I talked to you? Privately?”

YN is quickly agreeing, trying her best to get up from her spot squished between Taehyung and Jimin without injuring herself.

“Would you like to talk in the study?” YN asks when she finally manages to escape, turning and walking towards it once Namjoon nods. For whatever reason, she doesn’t question the fact that Namjoon wants to speak to her alone.

They walk in silence until they get there, YN taking her customary seat at the desk and Namjoon takes one across from her after closing the door.

“What do we have to talk about that couldn’t be said in the other room? Is it bad?” YN speaks first, her voice hoarse as she avoids eye contact, fiddling with the end of the hoodie.

“Well, YN, it’s not necessarily bad, but it’s going to be a lot for you to process and understand, so we figured it would be easier for you if I were the only one here when I explain everything.” Namjoon answers smoothly, doing his best to assuage the fears he was sure YN had.

YN makes a motion for Namjoon to continue, looking anywhere but his face. Her ears were hot as it dawned on her just how put together the boys were, even though she was a complete mess. She didn’t like feeling like the only one that was affected, but to her, it was clear she was the only one feeling anything.

“Do you remember my first visit, when you were still on bedrest?” Namjoon gives YN a second to respond, continuing when he hears her give a soft hum in acknowledgement.

“Well, I told you then that you smell like an Omega, which is true. What I didn’t know then was if you were able to pack bond or not. Turns out that you most definitely can, and are probably one of the lost Omegas.” Namjoon pauses, watching YN intently as he waits for her to process what he had told her.

“Wha-” YN begins, brow furrowed as she mulls over what Namjoon had said. She knew what pack bonding was, what it meant. She knew that it was a connection far deeper than anything a regular human could experience. It was a family, a partnership, a lover, a best friend. It was special.  

“Is that why I feel so bad?” YN asks the question in a voice that is much softer than anything Namjoon had heard come from her before, and it breaks his heart.

“Now I can’t be sure beca-” Namjoon starts, pushing the glasses he had decided to wear up his nose as he begins an explanation that YN can just tell isn’t going to really tell her anything. She loved Namjoon, she really did, but he had a specific way of sugar coating things that left people without a grasp of the full picture.

“Joonie, please.” YN interrupts, wrapping her arms around herself as her head turns to the floor. The familiar name tugs even more at Namjoon’s heart, a lump forming in his throat as he sees just how much YN is really hurting. “Don’t sugar coat it. Did something happen? To make me feel so horrible?”

“We bonded. Or started to.”

“O-oh”

“Yeah.”

The room falls silent for what seems like way too long, neither person wanting to be the one to break the heavy silence.

“What does- what does this mean? For- For me?” YN finally speaks, thoughts racing. She internally cringed at the fact she kept tripping over her words.

She was grateful, in that moment, that it had been easy for her to pick up on the methods there were to keep the boys out of her head.

“First off we want you to come and live with us, permanently. We will care for you just like we did when you were hurt, but you won’t have to say goodbye. We will be there for you, no matter what. You’ll always be safe, always be cared for, always be taken care of. Omegas are always the most protected members of the pack, they’re the most vulnerable.” Namjoon’s voice is warm, almost too happy. YN can tell there's a catch.

“But?”

“But you won’t be able to live outside of the house that we inhabit. You’ll be a target for any other pack that wants to hurt us or find our weak spots, so you won’t be able to go anywhere without one of us, except for in the house.” Namjoon shrugs his shoulders as if what he said wasn’t incredibly shocking and wouldn’t greatly influence her decision to join them or not.

“I- What?” YN shakes her head. “You mean to tell me that I have to choose between feeling like someone ran me over a million times with a cement truck and stomped a hole in my chest, or always being targeted for murder?”

Namjoon doesn’t say anything, giving YN more time to try to process what was going on.

“And if I say yes, I won’t ever be able to go and do anything by myself? Or I might be killed?” YN’s voice is shaky as she speaks, and again, Namjoon doesn’t say anything.

“Can you give me a minute? Alone?” YN turns the chair back around and stares at her closed laptop.

“Of course. Yell if you need one of us, yeah?” Namjoon stands and walks out of the door, a sad smile gracing his face as he softly shuts the door behind him. He honestly couldn’t tell what YN was going to do, and as he walked away, he realized he hadn’t even mentioned the fact that they’d always be able to read her thoughts, even if she didn’t want them to.

He took off the glasses he had been wearing, running a hand over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose as he walks back into the living room area. Even though he’s expecting to be bombarded with questions, the boys don’t say anything as Namjoon moves into the kitchen, seeking the comfort of Jin without a second thought.

YN sat at her desk for a while, mulling everything over. She had always considered herself to be very independent, enjoying the ability to do things for herself, but she couldn’t shake how wonderful it felt to be taken care of. Sure, it wasn’t at all what she was used to, but she couldn’t deny that it made her feel loved.

Wanted.

Special.

And YN liked that, if she was being honest with herself.

But she also couldn’t imagine giving up her freedom. Giving up her walks alone in the woods, or her solo trips to town, or her trips to the city to go see this or that. The fact is, YN likes her time alone, away from everyone else. In the mansion, the only place she could go to get away would be her own room, which felt like she was a sad teenager again, hiding from her parents.

However much she wanted to just burst out with a yes as soon as Namjoon had mentioned staying with them permanently, she felt like she needed another perspective when it came to what her life would become in that home.

She didn’t want to make a mistake that would haunt her for the rest of her life, after all.

As much as it felt like the right thing to do, she didn’t want to intrude on what was already an established group, just because she didn’t feel good.

Especially not when they clearly weren’t half as affected as she was. Sure, YN had always known she felt things a little deeper than other people seemed to when it came to her friendships, but she didn’t realize just how fucked her emotions were until the seven men she had spent a full seven days crying over came back into her life, completely fine.

Deciding that she needed another opinion, she stood, quietly opening the door and heading towards the noise of the men in the other room. Purposefully, she stayed quiet and to the side, not wanting them to focus their attention on her just yet. She couldn’t deal with their attention being fully on her, not then.

“Yoongi?” YN’s voice is soft, sad. She was standing behind him when she spoke, causing the man to jump, twirling around to see what she needed. Sure, he had noticed when she entered the room, but he was not expecting her to be right beside him.

With a cough, he asked what she needed.

“Could I talk with you in the study? Please?” YN looks up at him with those big, innocent eyes of hers as she spoke in that same sad, soft tone. Needless to say, she could have asked for anything in that way and Yoongi would have lit the world on fire to get it for her.

Instead, he nods, motioning for YN to lead the way. She scurries back to the study, hoping that Yoongi will have some insights that will help her solidify if it’s the right choice or not.

Truthfully, she couldn’t think of anything else she wanted more than to go back to the way things were before this horrible week, but she also had to be sure.

YN takes a seat on the couch this time, watching with those same sad eyes as Yoongi closes the door. He sits down next to her, opening his arms as YN settles herself into his embrace.

If Yoongi was being honest with himself, he didn’t really understand why the youngest three liked physical affection so much until that first night YN had curled up beside him, sharing her blanket with him as she slowly ended up closer and closer to him. She claimed that she was “just cold” and that her burying her nose in Yoongi’s shoulder for half the night had nothing to do with the terrifying movie that Jungkook and Taehyung had decided was going to be the selection for that week’s movie night, but they could all see right through her.

After that first night, Yoongi would always open his arms to YN whenever they were seated next to each other, like now. Though usually it was more positive than it was in this moment.

Yoongi internally felt awkward as he heard YN sniffle sofly in his arms, though he couldn’t deny he wanted to hurt whoever had made her upset. Sure, he knew that it wasn’t rational, but he had always been protective of those he cared about, and YN was most definitely not an exception to that rule.

“It’s alright YN, I know this is a lot for you.” Yoongi speaks for the first time, his deep voice comforting YN in a way she had been sorely missing.

YN doesn’t speak for a long time. Instead she cries, burying herself in Yoongi’s arms. She had missed having him so close, having his scent to help calm her down.

“YN, darling, tell me what’s been going on, hm?” Yoongi moves YN off of him slightly, running a hand over her cheek to wipe away a stray tear.

“Are you sure you wanna hear?” YN’s voice is shaky, strained. The amount of unashurededness in her voice makes Yoongi’s heart break, and a sort of gross protectiveness come out in him that he hadn’t felt since the younger members of the pack had joined. As much as those three got on his nerves, he felt the same sort of protective love for them as he did for YN.

“Of course I want to hear. I’m always here to listen to you.” Yoongi’s voice is soft, careful. YN glances up, tears brimming in her eyes. When she sees Yoongi’s attention fully on her, his eyes searching her face to try to make sure he wasn’t overstepping and that she was as comfortable as she could be given the circumstances, those same tears spilled.

She takes a deep, steadying breath, leaning back away from Yoongi so she can properly look at him.

“It was horrible Yoongs. I felt like- like someone had ripped out my heart. Like there was a gaping hole where my stomach used to be. Like- like you didn’t want me. Didn’t care. ” YN shivered, eyes trained on her hands as she fiddled with the end of one of her sleeves, willing herself not to cry any more than she already had.

Yoongi notices this small nervous habit and takes her small hands into his much larger ones, rubbing a thumb over her knuckles in a way he hoped was soothing to her.

“I felt alone. I’ve never felt alone like that before Yoongi. Never!” YN sniffles, shaking her head. “I couldn’t eat, I either slept for too long or not long enough, and I was cold. It was so so cold. I didn’t feel like I’d ever be warm again.”

Her voice fades out now, sniffles coming more and more frequently. Yoongi took the pause in her speaking to pull her back into his arms again, instinctually knowing that she just needed to be held and reminded that he was there and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Once YN had calmed down again, Yoongi held her at arm's length again, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe away the last tears from her cheeks again.

“YN, look at me.” His voice is soft, caring. He doesn’t speak again until YN fully turns to look at his face.

“I never want you to feel like that again. I’ll be here for you, we will be. What I felt this past week-” Yoongi pauses to shake his head, “-I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially not someone so fragile as you.”

YN can feel her ears get hot, wanting to say that she wasn’t fragile, that she could handle things. She wanted to tell him about all the terrible things she had gone through before, about how much she had dealt with all on her own, but she didn’t. The words died in her throat, because by their standards, by his standards, she really was.

“Do you understand what we are asking, by wanting you to come live with us? To be part of the pack?” Yoongi asks now, shifting the attention slightly.

“Sort of.” YN shrugs. Her fingers are back to fiddling with her sleeve and are quickly captured by Yoongi’s again.

“What are you concerned about? Hm?” He gives her that signature gummy smile of his, eyes crinkling at the edge when he notices how YN finally cracks a smile.

“I don’t want to lose my freedom. I can do things by myself, I don’t really need to be taken care of, really! I don’t want to become a burden on any of you. Or cause issues. Or put myself somewhere I’m not really needed.” She takes her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it absently as she watches Yoongi for his reaction. If there’s one thing she could trust, it would be Yoongi’s lack of ability to make anything something other than exactly what it was.

“I’m not going to lie to you, you know that. I don’t see the point in it. The way things were before you came back here, that’s about how they’ll be if you choose to come with us. There are only two things that will change.” Yoongi pauses, looking to make sure YN is paying attention properly.

“First, you will end up presenting fully as an Omega. When it comes closer to the time for that to happen, Jimin will have to be the one to explain it to you, seeing as he’s the one who has felt things as close to what you’ll go through. Second, you won’t be able to shield your thoughts from us anymore. If we want to read you, we will be able to. It’s not something we are looking to do, but the emotional state of Omegas affects the rest of the pack greatly, and that’s the way we have evolved to deal with it.”

YN swallows thickly, mind racing. She wasn’t going to lie, she had some, well, unsavory thoughts about the men that she had come to know so well. She really didn’t want all of those thoughts being common knowledge, especially not to the people they were about.

“You- You’re sure I won’t be able to shield?” YN’s voice feels sticky in her throat as she gets the words out.

“One hundred pre-cent darling, every thought that passes through that pretty brain of yours will be able to be accessed by us, if we want to read you. As our only Omega, your thoughts and feelings, your emotions, they will greatly affect all of us. We already feel what the others do, but with you, it’ll be ten times as intense. We need to be able to read you so that way we can always know what’s going on, what you want and what you need, without you having to explain it to us.”

“Oh”

“We already feel like we need to protect you, like you are our lovely little Omega. Once you’re fully ingrained into our pack, it’ll just be more intense.”

They fall silent, once Yoongi finishes speaking this time. He smiles absently at YN as she plays with his fingers, obviously deep in thought.

He had missed having her around more than he thought, if that was even possible.

“I’ll do it.” YN’s voice is so soft, Yoongi almost misses it.

“Are you sure?” Yoongi wants to make sure YN has really thought about everything before she says a definitive yes, even when he wanted nothing more than to squeeze the small girl into the tightest hug he could.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want to live with you. With all of you. I want to be your Omega just as much as I want you to be my pack.” YN tries to swallow the lump in her throat, willing herself not to trip over her words.

“I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.”

~~~~~~

The next two weeks were hectic, to say the least. Once YN had confirmed that she was going to be making the move from her own home to the mansion with the pack, there was a flurry of activity.

First, they had to decide who was going to stay with YN while she packed all of the things she would be needing. Like the big bad adults they are, the pack played a huge game of rock-paper-scissors for the privilege, with Hoseok and Jimin being the ones to end up winning.

After that game, the rest of the boys stayed around to help with whatever they could right then, but left in the late afternoon.

From then on, it was time for YN to go through and pack up everything she could to make sure she had enough stuff for living somewhere new.

She started with packing up things she didn’t want the boys to see, like her underthings and personal journals, before moving on to things that they could more easily help with.

Jimin was not a very big help, deciding that he wanted to cuddle one (or both) of the other people in the house instead of helping to pack and carry the boxes (and whining when he didn’t get his way). Both YN and Hobi found it to be adorable though, neither of them really minding the workload.

It was mostly deciding what YN would need for her everyday life, and what things she could leave in the home, just in case someone in her family decided to drop by unannounced. YN couldn’t offer up a real explanation for them, not without reliving years of trauma, so neither Jimin nor Hobi decided to push the issue when she fiercely insisted that they leave enough to make sure nobody would question that someone lived there.

Hobi would cock up an eyebrow when he felt the small prickles of fear from YN whenever he would go to put one too many of something in a box. He thought it was just plain weird that YN was so insistent on this one very specific thing, making sure to remember everything that she was doing so he could discuss it with both Jimin and the rest of the pack when he got the chance.

Jimin, whenever he felt the well of emotion swell up in YN, would do his best to distract her, telling her about this or asking her about that or pretending he needed a hug from her before he could do any more work. He would let angelic giggles fall from his lips as he drew the girl into his arms, picking her up and swinging her around until she felt happy again.

Neither boy pushed. They knew that YN would open up to them in time, and they didn’t try to pry into her mind either, even with the barrier that she had learned to keep up getting weaker by the day.

Every few days, the rest of the boys would show up and help with whatever they could for the day, be it moving boxes or sorting things or arranging this or that so it would look like someone was still living there. They all did their best to make sure that the transition between the house that YN had so many memories in and their own was a smooth one.

It was during this transition time that the boys fully realized two things they hadn’t really thought of before. On the lighter note, YN had an absolutely horrible sleep schedule and completely disregarded the sun’s appearances in the sky. The second, much darker, thing that they realized was that YN had hidden trauma.

What that trauma was? They couldn’t tell you, but they realized as she was packing that she was afraid of something. Again, she had very carefully hidden whatever it was she was so scared of, to the point that none of the boys knew what in the world she held such a deep terror for.

They decided among themselves not to bring it up though, deciding that YN would have to talk about it on her own. Even though they could feel her thoughts and emotions more and more with each passing day, they didn’t want to break the trust that they had built with her on the cusp of such an important move.

~~~~~~

And this is how things were when YN finally moved everything into the mansion. She had gotten everything settled into its rightful places fairly quickly, finding a system that would work well for her.

She settled into the routine of being in the house incredibly quickly, feeling almost as if she had never really left at all. It was hard to believe that just three weeks earlier she thought she was saying goodbye to this place forever.

In the mornings, or whenever YN decided to get out of bed, she would sleepily head down to the kitchen and grab one of the cold brews that always seemed to be in the fridge. She had always liked cold coffee more than hot coffee, so she was grateful to whoever kept the fridge stocked with her favorite flavor of cold brew.

From there, YN would carefully sip on her drink as she made her way around the mansion, looking for either Jin or Jimin. Both of them tended to stay in the house a lot, as neither of them had any sort of external job and neither of them went on patrol, if it could be helped. Whichever one of them she found first, she would either follow around until she was fully awake, or sit and watch as they did whatever they were doing at the time. YN would then go and find the one she hadn’t found the first time, repeating the process until she was satisfied that she was fully awake and ready to face the day.

At this point, YN would make her way back to the kitchen, stocking up on snacks and grabbing more coffee before making her way to one of the desks in the library. She’d spend the next few hours planning and doing research, hunched over the desk as she furiously types whatever it is that she needs to for the time, only taking small pauses to sip more of her drink or shove more of whatever snack she had grabbed into her mouth.

It’s only when the call of nature becomes too much to ignore that YN will stand and stretch out her spine, feeling stiff as she tries to pack up her things. Yes, she had found out early on that there were a couple maids that came in a few days a week, but YN couldn’t imagine leaving any sort of a mess for them if it could be helped and would clean everything she could whenever she got done with anything. Habits die hard, after all.

It always seemed to happen that one of the others would be getting home around this time, so YN would make her way into the surprisingly lush living room and curl up in some blankets and watch whatever happened to be on TV until someone caught her attention.

Usually, it would be Jungkook and Taehyung who returned first. YN didn’t quite understand why or what it was that they actually did, but they spent their days patrolling in the vast forest around the house. Jungkook had tried to explain it to her a few times, but she just never really understood what was going on.  

When the two youngest would get to the home, it was a 50/50 shot as to if they would transform from their wolf form to their human one, or if they’d hang out around the house as wolves. Either way, they would find a way to sit on either side of YN and just relax with her for a while. Sometimes they would talk about what they had been doing or cool things they had seen, and other times they just wanted to get some affection from their favorite Omega.

Eventually, Hoseok would appear and steal Jungkook to either work out or dance with, and Jin would come in to steal YN so they could spend their time cooking the evening meal together. Every single day, without fail,  Taehyung would grumble about how “the Hyungs took the fun ones” before going off to try and find Yoongi. And everyday, without fail, Yoongi would be found in his infamous Genius Lab, annoyed to high heaven that Taehyung had come in to “bother” him, even though they both enjoyed the interruption.

They always tried to eat together as a whole group, crowded around the table laughing and talking about anything and everything. As much as they would bicker and argue, none of them could deny the love and happiness they found in each other.

After their meal, they would break off into groups and do this or that. Sometimes they would go as a whole group to have a movie night, video game tournament, karaoke night, or something else that they could enjoy as a whole group (with the loser having to tidy up the kitchen and dining room). Other times, YN would make her way into the kitchen and start cleaning while the others broke away to do whatever it was they had planned for the evening. Whenever YN took it upon herself to clean up whatever mess was made, Hoseok would always come and help her, smiling and laughing with her as they got the place tidied up.

It was at this point that YN would slip away with her laptop under her arm, a water in one hand and her charger in the other, heading to the Genius Lab to work on her stories. Despite everything else, she still had deadlines to meet and a need to be alone sometimes, and she knew that Yoongi wouldn’t go back to the ever-so-private room until he was done doing rounds with Namjoon for the evening.

This gave YN about two and a half hours or so completely to herself, where she could be alone with her thoughts and feelings. She could feel the world she had built for her characters without the worry that anyone or anything would be there to interrupt her, could get deep into what the characters were doing and saying and feeling without worrying about what they boys would think of her and the world she had made. Honestly, it was incredibly freeing for her to be able to have that time and space where she was completely alone with her thoughts.

And when Yoongi did make his way back to his favorite room in their home, he fell into the habit of bringing an extra bottle of water with him for YN. The two would settle into a comfortable silence once Yoongi had settled in, both of them finding peace in the fact that the other person was in the room. Every so often, YN would ask Yoongi a question about this or that, or Yoongi would ask YN to give her opinion on a section of music, but most of the time the only sounds in the room were the soft taps of the keyboard and the even softer breathing of both bodies.

Eventually, one of them would end up looking at the time and mutter something about going to bed, which the other would ignore for at least another hour or two, when their eyes were heavy. YN would fall asleep on the couch without meaning to every couple days, which gave Yoongi the ultimate symbol to get them both to bed.

Yoongi would sweetly clean up the studio, making sure everything was off and where it needed to be and packing up whatever YN had brought with her, before he bent and picked her up, carrying her up to her room and tucking her in before making his way to his own room.

It was a simple, domestic sort of life that they all led, and they couldn’t of been happier with the way things were turning out.

[cha-lyn]

red bikini

18+ only, mind the warnings

bucky x poc!reader

Warnings: SMUT. pool sex, fingering, roughish unprotected f/m sex, cussing, maybe a lil bit of degradation, maybe some dom!bucky idk, light slapping

Note: I wrote this drunk at the pool on vacation so that explains any mistakes. Also if you think a tag should be added/removed lemme know. (Had to repost Bc tumblr being weird)

—

There’s always been some sexual tension between you and the winter soldier
Bucky thinks you are immaculate- you’re kind but ruthless to your enemy’s. You’re muscle and soft curves all in one.You bake cute things like scones and macarons but he’s seen you fillet a bad guy with flinching.

All that and he’s sure you’ll shy away from the darker parts of him.

You think that Bucky is the hottest thing to walk the earth.He’s all brawn and metal; grit and bullets, but when little Morgan sticks her bottom lip out to pout- he absolutely melts.

You’re amazed at the resiliency of that man. To have gone through hell and still be able to hope.

And that fucking arm - god

Bucky has fought himself for months on whether or not he should even try. But then he walks out on the pool deck and sees you in that red bikini and he has no more qualms. It’s strappy, tight. Showing little cut outs of your perfect brown body.

You grin at him as he takes the chair to you left. He greets you, eyes trailing down your body as you lay out on your towel. Everyone else is at the beach, engrossed in a sandcastle building competition, so it’s just you and Bucky.

‘Like what you see solider?’ You say, a smirk pulling on your lips. Bucky cocks his head at you, tongue slowly swiping his bottom lip. You pull your sunglasses down so he can see your eyes. ‘I sure do’ You get up suddenly and slip into the pool

‘C’mon on sarge.’

Bucky is silent as he follows you into the pool. ‘You’re teasing me baby’

You wade backwards into the deeper section smirking as you go ‘gotta make you work for it’

Bucky catches up quickly, flesh hand snagging your waist, fingers finding the little cutouts of your bathing suit and exploring them. You wait a beat before wrapping your legs around his waist, bringing him closer and finding his lips.
The kiss is slow and urgent. Lips and tongues learning as they meet. Gentle nips at bottom lips.

You pull away first. ‘I want more. I want you buck.’

‘I dunno baby. I can be kinda rough. I don’t wanna hurt you.’

You grind against him, hard under his trunks. ‘Be rough. Be bossy. I don’t care just fuck me. Use your metal arm.’

Bucky’s eyes narrowed trying to figure out if you were being for real. So you pulled his metal hand up out of the water and lead it to your mouth, sucking on his first two fingers. Bucky’s eyes go dark ‘Look at you. Begging for me to touch you. So desperate.’ His metal hand falls from your mouth to under your bikini bottoms, finding your folds.

You shudder as his flesh hand finds you locs, pulling them hard, your neck exposed to him now being assaulted but kisses and teeth. Slowly he puts two metal fingers in you as he circles your clit with this thumb. In and out as his mouth moves down your chest, pushing your swim suit of our the way.
His mouth finds your nipple, pulling it between his teeth and making your back arch and your hands grasp at his broad back

You whine when he switches to the other breast, fingers still working you slowly. ‘Bucky pl-please’

His fingers leave you and The hand pulling your hair grips your chin firmly ‘Shut up. I’m in charge remember?’ You nod. Bucky finds the nearest wall to push you up against. He pushes your bottoms to the side again, metal fingers find your cunt and you mewl as Bucky’s scissors his fingers inside you.

You instinctively push away, it feels so good, but you have no where to go. You push on his chest but his grip is too strong. ‘That’s right struggle baby. You’re so fuckin tight’ he says as his fingers curl inside you.

You’re right on the edge, starting to pulse around his finger when he pulls them out. You whine in protest and the hand that was just inside you grips your face again. ‘I’m sorry. Were you about to come? Oops.’ there’s no sympathy in his voice

Bucky pulls his cock out of his trunks. Pushing your head down a bit so you can see it wavering under the water, red and throbbing. You lick your lips. ‘You’re quite the slut, begging to get fucked. Right here in public.’ You nod, he’s not wrong. ‘You just be extra quiet. We don’t want to alarm the others.’

Bucky’s barely finished his sentence when roughly pulls you down onto him. Your mouth goes slack and you let out a moan crossed with a whimper.
He smacks you lightly on the cheek, ‘I said be quiet,’ he spits between gritted teeth.

He starts to move, slowly at first but in no way gentle. One hand gripping your ass roughly. The other tweaking and pulling your nipples.
He speeds up still a tight grip on your ass, but the metal hand goes to your neck and starts squeezing, He watches your face for evidence of it being too much. You smile, looking thoroughly fucked out and it encourages him.

He holds you there until you unravel around him, grasping blindly at his metal hand as it squeezes and you start to see spots. He comes soon after, pulling you harder onto him as he spills into you, growling into your neck.

‘You were perfect baby. Can’t wait to peel this lil thing off you later and taste that tight cunt of yours.’

— Tag list - if y’all wanna be removed Bc this is a lil more raunchy that usual lemme know 💛

@thefridgeismybestie

@basically-introverted

[caws5749]

Dazed and Confused, pt. 23-The Quarantine Series

A/N: I KNOW HOW TO USE WORDS AGAIN TODAY WOOOOOO, and apparently i need soft shit bc this got soft. ((also the black widow makeup collection has me wrecked. ))

Promoting: Netflix Party tomorrow evening, watching Infinity War! I’ll reblog the post in a little bit with some more info!

The Quarantine Series Masterlist

The training room is ready.

You kept hearing those words over and over in your head as you headed towards the new facility, specially designed for you. Nat walked with you, her hand on your back. Honestly, you were fairly certain that if she wasn’t gently pushing your forwards, you’d never end up there.

You’d finally reached the door to the room, which was currently open. Once you started using your powers, no one else would be in. If you decided to let anyone watch, they’d be up in the observation deck, a little room off to the side and up a flight of stairs.

Nat followed you into the room, where Tony was waiting to explain the design aspects to you.

“Okay, so the floor has drains everywhere. Depending on how much water they’re flooded with, it may not all drain instantaneously,” Tony explained, his eyes carefully shifting over to you. You nodded, trying to take in what he said while also keeping calm.

“Everything in here is completely waterproof. The wall over there, if you push on that little spot, it’ll open up a section of cold water bottles. Bruce and I, we think that the more you use your powers, the more it takes away from your hydration level, and you definitely don’t want to get dehydrated.”

All you could do was nod.

“Alright, I think that probably does it, so... good luck, Y/N. You’ll be fine.”

Tony left and you stood, staring blankly around the room. The only thing keeping you semi-grounded was Natasha taking your hand. Her other hand gently pulled your chin towards her.

“You’re going to be fine, Y/N. We’re not going to let anything happen to you, I won’t let anything happen to you,” she soothed.

“Okay,” you whispered, eyes wide and filled with fear. There was nothing that anyone could do to calm you.

“Do you want me to watch from the observation deck?”

Honestly, you weren’t sure. Did you want anyone watching? The team had wanted to, but, they ultimately had left the decision to you. You’d refused to let them watch, at least for the first practice. But, did you want Natasha to watch? It wasn’t a question of safety- JARVIS would alert someone if you were hurt or in danger.

“No.”

You weren’t sure why you’d said no, but you did. Natasha gave your hand a brief squeeze and sent a small smile your way, and then she left, closing the door.

You turned in every direction, alone in the completely white room. You couldn’t decide if you were about to panic or if you felt okay now that it was just you and your powers.

After a minute, you calmed enough to decide to try and summon your newfound abilities. You took a deep breath and then held out your hands in front of you. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to send it out of your hands, but, you were going to try.

The second you tried to summon them, you felt the familiar tingle creep in. Instead of trying to stop it, as you had done before, you let it grow. You felt it manifest in nearly every inch of your body, and then you focused on sending the energy into your hands. You couldn’t help but smile when you felt your efforts working.

You pushed yourself further, letting the power surge inside of you, concentrating on your hands, before water was suddenly shooting out of them.

You were knocked off balance by the force of it, and you held your hand out to catch yourself. With power still surging throughout you, water suddenly shot out of your one hand, the force of it propelling you upward to standing once again.

You stood, breathing heavily, wondering what on earth had just happened. You hadn’t even meant to do that, it had just been instinct.

And then you started to feel a bit dizzy. Your mouth had gone dry, and you realized you probably weren’t very hydrated. You hadn’t had really anything to drink all day, and that probably wasn’t going to bode well with your practicing.

You slowly made your way over to the wall where Tony had said there would be water. You grabbed a fresh bottle and chugged it in entirety.

You felt completely refreshed and almost.. eager to continue practicing.

Before you knew it, an hour had gone by, and you’d gone through two more bottles of water. And it had gone well. When you were trying to use them, they came almost effortlessly, and it was like an instinct. Obviously, you weren’t perfect at controlling them and getting them to do what you wanted all the time, but you’d learned some things. And you were curious as to what else you could do. But, you’d find out in time.

For now, it was time to call it a day, and go find Natasha for that Netflix session.

You found her in the living room, reading a book and munching on some snacks. She looked up at your presence.

“Y/N, you’re soaked,” she observed, frowning. You looked down at your clothes and your eyes widened. You hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh.”

“And you’re shivering.”

Wow, the adrenaline must have been really pumping through your veins for you to not notice any of that.

“I’ll go take a warm shower,” you replied. “Do you want to watch Netflix after?”

“Sure, that sounds great. Now, go, get warm and dry. And then I want to hear about how training went.”

You nodded, a smile overtaking your face as you remembered what you’d done.

“That good?”

“Yeah.. it was good. Really good.”

++++++

Once you were dry and warm in cozy pajamas, you wandered back out to the living room, where Nat was no longer. You moved to the kitchen, finding her cooking something at the stove.

“What are you making?” You asked curiously, coming to stand next to her and peering into the pot.

“Vegetable soup.”

“Mmmmm.”

“You want some, moy serdtse?” Natasha asked quietly, bumping her hip lightly into yours. You turned to fully face her, your arms finding their way around her waist. You pressed soft kisses to her neck, happy when she made a soft noise.

“Yes, I’d love some,” you murmured, nipping a bit at her skin.

“Hey!” She laughed lightly. “Stop that, I need to focus on cooking.”

“Are you saying I’m good at distracting you?”

“I’m saying I need to cook,” Nat answered, though there was a smile on her face.

“So tell me about training,” she continued, stirring the ingredients in the pot. You rested your head on her shoulder as you told her everything that had happened.

“You’re handling all of this so well, Y/N. I’m really proud of you,” Natasha stated once you’d finished your recap.

“Thanks, baby. I’m feeling good, I guess. I want to keep working on things so that I can be a good asset to the team.”

“You’re already a good asset to the team.”

You hummed.

“I love you,” you said for the second time ever. Somehow, you knew that saying it to her would never get old.

“I love you,” Natasha whispered, pausing her cooking to give your lips a quick peck.

“I should probably update the team on training,” you sighed. She nodded.

“At least tell Steve for right now. Go, he’s in the conference room, and by the time you get back, everything will be ready and we can be lazy for the rest of the day.”

++++++

Tag List: @mymarvelwomen @hherewegoagain @morbid-gaymer @natasha-romanoff-fics @taramitch96 @marvelbanan @lesbian-x-blackwidow @firstangeldragonranch @stillfiguringmeout @natasharomanoffsbitch-x @5aftermidnight @disneykid125 @clintashaotp @arkkarchive @determinedpines @stop-drop-and-drumroll @little-spider-nerd @newestnewgirl @missmarvelobsession @fireflyglass @pussy-puncher-its-an-inside-joke @niquey-salvatore @1-danid @nowthisisliving27 @swanqueensupercorpshouldbegayirl @hopingforbarnes @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @natxhiddles @showmethemone05 @marvelb00kwolf @prizmix-and-friends @ophelias-heart @xpissbabyx @sychochick @alwaysblackbirdbluecookies

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Forty-One, “Finally”

*Gifs are not mine*

Clickable Links:

- *NEW* Becky Magazine Cover from an O.C. Tag Challenge c:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Warnings: None

Word Count: 10.3k words

Song:  You’re Still The One by Shania Twain, bc duh Just Like Heaven by The Cure (click to listen)

A/N: I am SO excited for you to read this chapter, you’ll soon find out why ;)

                                 SNEAKYYYYYY PEEEEEK

For the fiftieth time in the last two days, I couldn’t be more grateful for how easy things are coming together. I couldn’t be more thankful to have him by my side. It still feels like a dream getting to live this life now, and getting to work with him on the daily, singing Spice Girls amidst stolen cheek kisses.

One puzzle piece at a time, and there’s only one or two pieces left in this puzzle of ours.

"And then my soul saw you and it kind of went ‘Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.’"

                             - Iain Thomas, ‘I Wrote This For You’

There was truly nothing that could rock the waves I was currently riding, and I couldn’t wait a second longer to do the very thing that would make them even bigger. They had only climbed since telling Asher earlier this evening, and the smile that shared on our faces. 

Skye was sprawled out on the sofa when I opened the door, finding it impossible to hide the grin on my face as I read a text from Harry that had dinged a moment before. 

i havent been this excited for somethin in a long time bug. absolutely cant wait to see u on friday, idk if i can wait that long ;) good luck on ur case with Myles 2moro, you’ll do great Becks xo

“Well, look who has a pep in her step, all of a sudden. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile in days, since Harry’s left. What’s the occasion, Ree?” she teases, surprising me with the simple act of muting an episode of The Great British Bake Off that our nights consist of as of late. 

“I may have had a good day,” I suggest with a shrug of my shoulders as I put my coat away in the closet. 

“Since bloody when? You were in a shitty mood the last time we spoke, having ‘Harry withdrawals,’ or something. I’d say the only reason you could be happy right now is if you’d seen him, which would be impossible seeing he’s in Glasgow for another few days,” she mutters. I observe the look on her face change and how her eyebrows dance along her forehead after I turn around to face her, letting the smile lose. “Wait, he’s still there, isn’t he?” she questions, reaching a hand out as if looking for an answer with her body, too. 

My head shakes from side to side slowly as my lips part to show my teeth, a rarity among my smiles, and the expression dawning on her face tells me she recognizes it too. “He came back today, his case finished early, Skye. And I asked him out on a date!” 

“You didn’t?! Ree, you better not be kidding with me, or I’m gonna be really pissed at you!” she chuckles, feigning intimidation in her voice. Hints of the emotions buzzing around inside of me play across her face, meanwhile, my happiness keeps growing notch after notch. 

I don’t know if I can wait that long either, Harry, cause I can’t remember the last time I was this excited. Thank you so much xxx

“I’m not kidding, Skye, and he said yes! He didn’t even let me finish asking and he said yes!” I exclaim after sending the text I had been typing, feeling her arms come around me in a shock when I look back up. 

“I’m so fucking happy for you, Ree, it’s about bloody time!” she remarks excitedly, almost crushing me in a hug. 

“Me too, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy,” I admit softly, relaxing in her arms, even though part of me wishes they were the arms of somebody else. Only an hour later, and I already miss him. Wow, I’ve got this bad. 

“Did you kiss him at least?!”

“No, I’m waiting for the date, I guess. I looked like proper crap today, I’ve been up so late the last few nights prepping for the case with Myles,” I laugh, pulling away from her smell of peaches and chocolate when my pocket dings. 

“First kisses aren’t something you plan, Ree, they just happen out of nowhere. The sooner, the better.” 

“I guess you’re right,” I confess with a smile stuck to my lips. “We’ll just see what happens.”

+

Happiness and its synonyms still fill me to the brim an hour later, and whilst my thumbs flit across the screen of my phone. Her words stare back at me, and unbeknownst to me how, I wish I could see her again already. My footsteps wander down the main hallway, and before I know what I’m doing, I arrive at her door. Low and behold, it’s closed and my heart sinks into my chest when I find darkness waiting behind it. 

miss u already bug xoxo

My words are whisked off to her, and soon my legs are entering the doorway of a certain somebody’s office, although not the one I was hoping for.

“It’s about time you made your rounds and came to say hi to me. Should I feel offended I’m the last one on your list?” Myles teases from behind his desk with a grin lining his lips. 

“Oh, shuddup. Did Becks leave already fer tha night?” I question, letting my shoulder fall to the door frame as I watch the small ‘delivered’ appear under my blue text. 

“Yeah, I ran into her about twenty minutes ago in the break room when she was clocking out. What, didn’t you already see her?”

“Ya, she was me first visitor. I was jus’ hopin’ t’ see her ‘gain,” I shrug, well aware of the terrible job I’m doing of hiding the one hundred watt smile I’m wearing. 

“And does that have anything to do with you blinding me with that smile of yours?” he inquires, raising a sandy blonde eyebrow at me. 

“Maybe it has sumthin’ t’ do with me havin’ a date with her on Friday, as of an hour ago,” I reveal casually with a shrug of my shoulders, feeling the smile grow larger somehow. 

“Fucking finally,” Myles chimes with happiness spreading across his face, and I nod quickly. 

“I know, ‘s all finally comin’ t’getha fer us.”

+

It would be accurate to say that I was still in utter disbelief after yesterday, and rehashing it all to Skye the second I got home only made it all seem more real, and even better. Then again, that was an understatement, because I had been waiting for this for years. I had been waiting to feel this way for too long, and to be able to say and think that I have a date with Harry tomorrow. An actual, proper date. Several times, I cursed myself for not making the date on Thursday night, tonight, because although I had waited painstakingly for five days, another two felt like twenty years.

It was even bittersweet coming to work the next day and not seeing him there, confusing the habits and expectations I had come to know. I still had to finish up the case with Myles that he would finish arguing, with my help, for the next two days. I tried to think of it that way, that the date would be even better after finishing that case, and in a way, signifying my return to Harry. God, it was all too perfect, but it would be even more so if I didn’t have to wait another bloody day, well actually two, to see him. Yesterday wasn’t long enough, but when I think about it, no length of time ever is with him and that’s how I know I’m in trouble.

Also, that I’m walking right into one of my dreams.

+

After a morning spent in court starting off the case, I was back at the firm with Myles after lunch to work on it some more. He had given me more time to myself to work on my own than Harry had, but I preferred it that way. Harry was right, Myles was good to me, and I did learn a lot from him, but it wasn’t the same as being with Harry. Nothing has ever and never will be the same as being with him, certainly not. Also, the whole Family and Interpersonal side of court was depressing as fuck, I found out. The topic littered Harry and I’s conversations the last almost week, resulting in me taking after him and deciding to stay far away from it for now. 

I’m reminded of him everywhere I go, and it definitely makes trying to get my work done all the more difficult. I see his face in the succulent sat at the corner of my desk, behind my office chair where he would lean over me to help me on my laptop, on my sofa where he opened his birthday presents with explosive happiness, and in the reflection on the tall window where I now stand in the same spot as on his birthday when he hugged me against his front with a kiss to my head. A day later, and it all still feels so surreal to me, and I’m not mad about it. I appreciate its distracting qualities, leaving me to not worry as much about what the hell I’m going to wear tomorrow, and messing things up. Skye’s already picked out five outfits for me by now, I’m sure, but I was at a loss last night when I perused my closet. The pressure to impress somebody I’ve already met a hundred times, feels even greater than my second interview I had at the firm, and I tell myself I don’t know why, even though I do.

I want to wear the right thing, and feel beautiful. More than that, I don’t want to mess things up between us, again, no matter how stupid that sounds. No matter how premature it is to worry about right now.

With the happiest of sighs, I wander over to my bookshelf that now sits a dozen law books, gifts from Harry, Skye, Robbie, my dad, and Asher. Perhaps my favorite, to no surprise, is the Lawyer’s Dictionary that Harry got me. It has a section for all of the law jargon, another on many important laws, and lastly finishes with a guide for working the courtroom. I was just getting on my tippy toes to grab it when I feel a pair of arms surround my chest and pull me against theirs. 

“Hiya, brat,” a voice teases, tickling my neck. 

“Harry!” I exclaim with surprise, grabbing hold of his forearms. “Why do you love to scare me so much?”

“I dunno, ‘s fun, and coz yer a brat, so ya deserve it,” he giggles, and finally I relent and do too as I turn around to face him. 

“I am not a brat!” I argue, finding his flushed stubbly cheeks, taking a second to get used to the thick stubble covering them now. 

“Ya are, I reckon, couldn’t even wake me up last night t’ finish tha rest o’ tha FRIENDS episode on FaceTime, jus’ kept watchin’ along without me. If that doesn’t make ya a brat, then I dunno what does,” he tuts, clucking his tongue as he shakes his head at me. My giggles grow into a hearty chuckle as his folded hands settle at the small of my back. 

“Harry Edward!” I scoff, swatting at his chest once again hidden by his Northface coat, matching his black skinny jeans. 

“Hey, ya betta watch that hand o’ yers, bug, and that mouth too.”

“I’m not a brat,” I whine, all facial features falling into a pout that immediately grabs his attention. 

“Rebecca Ann, don’t even start with me. Put that bloody pout away befo’ ya regret it,” he insists, pointing his eyes at me with the smallest of smirks peeking through on his lips. It wins him over and soon his dimples accompany his deep laugh. “Stop, yer not a brat, bug, ‘m jus’ teasin’ ya. Y’know that. Jus’ can’t believe it didn’t even take a week fer ya t’ skip ahead o’ me in our show.”

“The episode was already three quarters of the way over!” I protest, earning a good finger wag at me. I fight back and push against his chest. “And I didn’t want to wake you up, you were so tired.”

“No, it was not! It was only half way through and ya couldn’t even wake me up! How rude o’ my Becks t’ be makin’ up excuses.” 

“Stop being mean to me,” I pout again, beginning to turn away with my arms crossed over my chest. 

“Hey, ‘m jus’ givin' ya a hard time, bug, y’know that. Yer neva a brat, and even if ya are, yer my brat,” Harry hums warmly, the honey returning to his voice in full force as he catches me around the middle with his arms once again. I can’t remember the last time I heard his voice absent of the honey, though. I don’t ever want to. “I wouldn’t want ya any otha way.”

“I knew you were only joking.”

“You li’l liar!” he laughs against my temple and mine joins his ever so contagious one. “Y’know, ‘ve always loved how ya neva take me shit and how ya can dish it right back, Becks.”

“Of course, I figured out at  the very beginning that I wouldn’t get by without it.”

“That’s me girl,” he coos, bringing me forth and round to find his gentle green eyes once more. They smile at me with a sparkle to them I haven’t had the pleasure to know before. I’ve yet to see him look at anybody this way, and I wonder if I have my own special look in my eyes for him, too. If I do, it was born long ago. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had said you were going to take it easy until Monday, since your case got done early,” I wonder aloud, unsure of what to do with my hands until they venture to his coat’s zipper on their own, pulling it up and down distractedly. 

“I was, until My’ roped me into a partner meetin’ t’day, and I wanted t’ see a special sumbody,” he sighs with an accented roll of his eyes at first, and then they dish out their dazzle on me. “But that’s it, and ‘m off afta that. I hafta do a li’l work fer my case afta finishin’ it, but it’ll only take ten minutes tops. Then laundry, cleanin’, and tha like at home before grocery shoppin’. Only jus’ now got outta bed, tha bloody jetlag.”

“Ah, I see. The work of a lawyer never ends, it seems,” I comment and he nods above me, eyes watching my every move closely. “God, if I knew you’d be here today I would have tried a little harder when I got dressed this morning,” I laugh nervously, my eyes falling to his crimson button-up peeking out from his coat, decorated with gray flowers and foliage. 

“Ya don’t even hafta try and ya look gorgeous, Becks. Promise,” Harry disagrees, the molasses pouring out from his words and into my heart, pushing the very last chip away. Just like that, I’m all his again, but I think it happened long before this and I didn’t know. Daring a look up at him, the dimples couldn’t be deeper in his cheeks as his sunshine smile radiates onto me, the pad of his thumb rough against my cheek. “I sure missed seein’ that smile, ‘s me favourite.” 

My anxiousness carries away with the sunshine, and I’m left with red cheeks and a smile that makes them hurt. It almost pains me to look into his bright sunny eyes, but I wouldn’t want to be looking anywhere else. Finally, I let myself look and with that, I let him in a little further and start to let go. 

“You’re really laying it on thick,” I jest harmlessly with a smile, dragging my finger down the seam of his chest where the two sides of the fabric meet in red cloth buttons. 

“Ya, coz I finally can,” he grins, and the warmth spreading across my body in tingly waves finds an outlet in a soft laugh of mine. 

Anxious yes, but ever so happy while his hand spreads out flush against my back, fingertips moving lazily. I’ve already pinched myself once or twice today wondering if this is all a dream, and shocked that I could ever be this happy. There were so many times I doubted the existence of it and its possibility, and everything it had to do with having this with Harry. Predictably, an electronic twinkle interrupts our conversation, and I’m confused to find him lifting his wrist. 

“Woah, look at the fancy lawyer,” I tease, his already colossal smile growing taller as he flicks a finger across his shiny new Apple watch. “That must have cost a pretty penny.”

“Ya, and My’ dished out e’ry last cent,” he titters, pressing his palm to the shiny surface rounded by space grey edges, returning his eyes and hands to me. “It was his birthday present t’ me, sayin’ that I should be mo’ organized at me age, or sumthin’.”

“Talk about brutal honesty right there.”

“Don’t go bloody agreein’ with him now!” Harry scoffs, but his mouth open in disgust is no more, lined by joyous lips that soon attack my cheeks in kisses. 

“No, no, no!” I beg aloud in shrieks when his quick fingers dance along my ribs, sending jolts of electricity across my body. More exclamations and pleas escape them before I say the magic words, “Harry Edward!” 

“What d’ya want, hmm, Rebecca Ann?” he asks breathlessly, that adorable breathy laugh falling off of his glossy cherry lips. 

“I think you like saying my full name too much,” I contend, giving up and falling into the sage green abyss of his eyes for the hundredth time, or more. 

“Maybe I do. Maybe I like it,” he shrugs mischievously, that smirk glued to his lips that pull me in. 

“Do you like it, the watch?”

“Ya, ‘s nice. I thought ‘d told ya ‘bout it, sorry. Reckon it has helped me t’ stay organized. Speakin’ of, me meetin’ ‘s inna few, so I hafta take off, bug,” he croons with disapproving lips, his bottom lip soon jutting out from the top. 

“Harry Styles, don’t you even!” I threaten rather weakly, the sounds of happiness leaving my lips doing a good job of that. 

“Oh, and what if I don’t? Hmmm, Rebecca Holte, jus’ what will ya do ‘bout it?” Harry returns, wiggling an eyebrow at me that makes my chest rumble with harder laughter. 

“I’ll just have to stop you, but I don’t know how just yet.”

A devilish smirk is born on his lips before my eyes, and soon leaves my view while his face escapes to the crook of my neck, his voice soon tickling my skin, “Lawyers gotta be quick on their feet, bug. Reckon I can think o’ a way ya can make these lips stop poutin’, maybe ya can try it on me t’morro’ afta our date,” he hums against my neck, knitting up his sentence with a whisper of a kiss below my ear.

I feel like a fricken sixteen-year-old all over again, and I’m loving every second. 

“You better get going to your meeting, before you’re late, Harry,” I giggle uncontrollably,  sure that my face is blotchy with red all over because of what he just said. My suspicion is confirmed when he lifts his head of moused curls to look me in the eyes again, and the glint in them tells me so. I feel like I can read him even better now, all because he’s letting me. 

“‘s alright, they expect me t’ be late by now, ‘s a given,” he insists with a comedic shrug of his shoulders, hands wandering away from my back and to our sides where they invite my hands into his. 

“Will you stop and say goodbye this time?”

“‘Course, bug. ‘m sorry I missed ya yestaday, ya had already left afta I had made me rounds,” he assures me, receiving a quiet ‘it’s okay’ from me. 

“Try not to fall asleep at your meeting today,” I joke, watching his eyes roll into the back of his head briefly before he scoops me into his arms for a squeeze. 

“I won’t if ya promise not t’ be a brat anymo’ and skip ahead in our show.”

“Get lost and go to your meeting already!” I laugh, shoving him away by his chest, observant of his mouth relaxing into a disbelieving ‘O’. His laugh echoes mine quickly, only disrupted when my hand comes to his cheek to plant my lips on his other for a few seconds longer than necessary. “I’m so glad you’re back, Harry.”

“So am I, Becks, so bloody much,” he echoes, holding my hands a little tighter in his, even bringing one to his lips for a kiss. “Good luck on yer case, love, for tha thousandth time. ‘m so proud o’ you.”

With that, he leaves me in a puddle of my own surreal emotions, disappearing from my office with a look over his shoulder wearing that smirk. That very smirk I want so desperately to kiss off those cherry lips already. Tomorrow, I think, if I can make it until then. Just one more day.

+

I had been struggling with finishing this last part, or rather redoing it, for too long now. When my eyes again strayig to the violet clock, I was surprised to find that it had been almost an hour, and I hadn’t gotten much further. With my head in my hands, I sigh as feelings battle to be felt within my insides. After today’s argument, Myles and I had to shift our approach, and I still wasn’t sure of how to do that. He had been helping me, of course, but I still felt so lost. It doesn’t help that he’s currently caught up in the partner’s meeting that Harry is also at, and Jennings who is but isn’t a partner. I still don’t get it, even though Harry explained it to me a few times. The next time he does, I’ll have to remember to ask him to dumb it down for me. 

Even after pouring over our shared notes in Google Docs, and my several law books strewn across my desk, I’m at a loss for what to do.

I wish more than anything that it was already five pm tomorrow, and that the only thing I have to think about is my date with Harry. I still don’t know what the hell to wear, or to do with my hair, or how heavy to go with my makeup. 

“Why tha long face, bug?” somebody pipes up, pulling me away from my immersive thoughts. Blinking hard, I tear my eyes away from the laptop screen and look over to the door, but I don’t lift my tired head from my propped fist. 

“I don’t know what to do for my argument.”

“Still? Why didn’t ya jus’ ask, Becks?” Harry hums with an inviting smile, pressing the door to come just shy of closing. 

I shrug my shoulders with a heavy exhale, scrolling through what I have so far, quickly realizing how embarrassing it’ll be to show him. I can’t exit out quickly enough, hearing his footsteps arrive behind me. 

“Hey, what d’ya think yer doin’?” he teases when I switch tabs, quickly feeling the weight of his hand on top of mine, dragging the mouse along. “Don’t be nervous, love, ‘m here t’ help. Always am,” he coos softly, a hand settling on my adjacent shoulder, earning me an encouraging squeeze. 

“It’s embarrassing, Harry. I’ve been sitting here for over an hour trying to figure out what to do, and I have next to nothing to show for it.”

“Relax, ‘s only yer first official case yer arguin’. Don’t be so hard on yerself, Becks. It sounds like ya need a break, bug,” he insists, sending sparks along my left arm as he rubs stripes along the skin. It’s not long before I hear a familiar laugh and slowly, Harry’s dancing figure comes into view. “Yo ‘ll tell ya what I want, what I really, really want. So tell me what ya want, what ya really, really want,” he belts out, his phone blasting the song cupped in his hand. 

“Oh my God,” I sigh with an accidental laugh, my head falling into my hands. I’m too curious though, and so I peek out from behind my spread fingers to watch him sing passionately with his eyes closed while breaking out some amusing dance moves. “Please, stop,” I chuckle, but I’m sure he also hears the lie in my voice. 

“‘m not stoppin’.”

“Please, Harry. You’re going to make me die from secondhand embarrassment,” I confess into my hands, feeling brave and letting my fingers fall down to below my eyes. Mistakenly, his catch mine and they fly back up to cover my eyes, or for the most part. 

“Rebecca Ann, ‘m not stoppin’ ‘til ya come and join me.”

“Then you’re going to be there for a while,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, certain of one thing and that’s the smile claiming my lips, and the forgotten document staring at me. I’m too preoccupied with the silly, dancing man in front of my eyes, and how somehow this makes me love him all the more. 

“Becks,” he insists, in between singing along to the song very badly. Oh no, I think as his steps near me once again. Before I know it, I’m staring into darkness as his breath tickles the back of my neck. 

“Stop,” I beg with laughs interjected among my pleas. They grow into near shouts and exclamations when his singing is accompanied by his fingers dancing across my sides, and along the slopes of my neck. “Harry!” I almost yell, and when my laughs couldn’t hurt my belly more, it all ceases. Only the singing remains and is joined by his stubbly cheek against my temple, and his arms coiled around my shoulders. “If ya wanna be my lova, ya gotta get with my friends.”

“Make it last forever, friendship never ends,” I continue for him, giggles heard at the end when his nose tickles the corner of my sensitive neck. 

“There’s me happy Becks, ‘m glad I found her ‘gain,” Harry coos, leaving a kiss on my temple before he helps me to tackle my argument. 

Five days did and didn’t feel very long when I think about it now, with his arms wrapped around me as his voice tickles my ear. Too easily, I can remember his absence over those long days, and how effortlessly they felt far longer. I barely survived with his texts and phone calls alone, and it hurts to think that if it hadn’t been for his case finishing early, I’d still be sitting here in my office all in my lonesome. 

Those thoughts are yanked away - thank God - when his voice brings me back, spewing legal mumbo jumbo that luckily nowadays I can understand, but I couldn’t have always said that. Harry makes quick work of what would be my best route to take and how I do that, and for the fiftieth time in the last two days, I couldn’t be more grateful for how easy things are coming together. I couldn’t be more thankful to have him by my side. It still feels like a dream getting to live this life now, and getting to work with him on the daily, singing Spice Girls amidst stolen cheek kisses.

One puzzle piece at a time, and there’s only one or two pieces left in this puzzle of ours.

+

The murmur of voices assaults my ears when I walk through the door, and feel my vision tugged towards the ceiling decorated with chandeliers. A song by Frank Sinatra floats around the entryway, hardly calming my overactive nerves, despite it being a favorite of my late grandpa’s. When I finally reach the host’s stand, the nerves topple out with my words, jumbling them.

“Reservation for H-Harry Styles, please,” I tell the towering, dark haired man. After a few moments tapping away on the kiosk, he grabs two menus and leads me through a maze of linen covered tables sat under the glow of the several chandeliers. 

I try to hide my disappointment when he leads me to an empty, round table, leaving with a few words about my server being with me soon. Another feeling bubbles up inside me, forcing itself to join all of the others mixed together within me. I had a feeling I was too early, I think silently as I shrug off my long pea coat to hang over my chair. Skye’s wishes of good luck and ‘lots of snogging’ float back to me, filling my sad cheeks with another wash of pink. ‘No, you aren’t driving yourself, I’m dropping you off so then you can get a ride home with him, and lay a big one on him when he walks you up,’ she had insisted, but the anxiousness years in the making is doing a good job of making me doubt myself tonight. 

My attention drifts to my phone that is silent with no new messages, but I still check our conversation. The last message was from him:

see u in half an hour for our date bug :) xxx

My thumb scrolls through our previous messages, straying to last night’s that brings a smile to my face. 

I have no idea what to wear tomorrow :/ 

meant it when i said u look beautiful in anything Becks ;) help what should i wear ? xx

I might be a little impartial to that gray suit you wore to my class lecture that one time ;) 

noted ;) i may especially love the color red on u if u wanna know 

Noted ;) Question....

shoot, love 

Skye was gonna drop me off tonight on her way to her boyfriend’s …. Would a ride home be too much to ask?

course not Becks. anytime u need a ride im here. id love to give u a ride home. perfect we can jam 2 some spice girls in the car then ;) 

I can’t wait

neither can i bug :) 

My reminiscing is interrupted when my eyes fall to my outfit of choice, tugging up the scoop neck that Skye insisted wasn’t ‘too slutty.’ Now, I’m not so sure about it, and I can’t decide if I wish he’d show up already, or if I’m not ready. Those thoughts are stolen away when the texts disappear on my phone, his smiling face claiming the screen with a jingle. 

“Hello?” I answer with a gulp, trying to hide the anxious tremble in my voice. I can’t help it, my eyes dart to my wrist, noticing it’s already 6:05 pm.

“Hi, bug. ‘m sorry but tha traffic ‘s horrendous and ‘m afraid ‘ll be late gettin’ t’ tha restaurant. E’rybody else ‘s comin’ home from work too,” Harry explains from the other side, a weird sound taking over his voice. Yeah, we’re not too good at this pretending thing anymore, are we? I can hear the nerves in his voice, probably just like he can hear them in mine. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Harry. I don’t mind at all, just be careful driving,” I respond, feeling a sense of relief at knowing where he is. I know he never would, but it squashes the tiny voice inside of me saying he wasn’t ever going to show up. 

“‘Course I will, love. Thanks fer understandin’. Reckon ‘ll be there in ten. Are ya there already?” he responds, just the sound of his voice doing wonders at calming me down. The only thing that could take it all away is a hug, one of his.

“Yeah, I just sat down.”

“Mmmm, d’ya mind scopin’ out tha menu while yer there? I won’t be too long, we can order once I get there, if that’s alright,” he asks, the sound of traffic sneaking into our phone call for a second. Then, I hear him sigh ‘finally’ and the subsequent thrum of the motor.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon then, careful driving.”

“I can’t wait t’ see you, Becks,” he hums before hanging up, leaving me sitting across from an empty chair that I can’t stop picturing him sitting in. 

This is really happening.

Finally.

+

The sound of her voice rings in my ears, and does nothing to stop the anxious shakes coursing throughout my body. Curses fall under my breath as I honk at somebody who pulls out right in front of me, making me slam on my brakes. With a sigh, I turn on my indicator before making my turn.

Pulling my keys from the ignition drenches my surroundings in silence, and reminds me of my heart beating wildly within my chest. Looking up, the decorative windows of the restaurant appear before me in shrouded light. She’s somewhere in there . . waiting for me.

Get it together, Harry. You can do this.

My eyes drift to the rear view mirror and I card my fingers through my hair until it looks decent enough. That’s as good as it’s going to get, I almost mutter while smoothing down my blazer underneath my coat. The bone chilling February night nips at my face once my feet touch the tarmac. Streetlights cast glows all around me, as well as the headlights of several cars. The thumping within my chest grows louder and faster as my feet near the door, and then the stand where a manicured man waits.

“Hi. I made a reservation unda the name ‘Harry Styles’,” I tell him, immediately casting my eyes to the tables within view, searching for her dark chocolate locks. 

“Right this way,” he replies, waving a hand to follow him and I do. He leads me past several tables, empty and occupied, and almost gets me lost in the process.

The last thing I feel is lost when my eyes finally find her.

“Thank you. I-I got it from here,” I tell him hurriedly, holding a hand out that brings us both to a halt. He walks away after a short ‘you’re welcome,’ leaving me there, right where I want to be.

I don’t remember the smile reaching my ears or my heart quieting within my chest as I watch her flip through the menu thirty feet away from me. The prettiest red dress dons her long body, falling just underneath her collarbones and draped over the curve of her shoulders. Her hair falls in dark, natural waves, almost hiding the round opal sitting above the scoop of scarlet fabric. A tingling sensation blankets my body from head to toe, and the image of Becks sitting there waiting for me is burned into my mind.

It feels like I’m meeting her again for the first time, but I’m not. This feels like a new first time, and I know it’s one I won’t ever forget, much like the very first time I laid my eyes upon her. 

It felt like a Monday. For the bloody life of me, I couldn’t remember if it was one at the moment. Is it Monday? I’m not sure, but with the way things were going today, it sure felt like one. The copier had a jam, I forgot the first lunch I’ve made in years at home, and my girlfriend had been annoying the fuck out of me this morning. To top it all off, I had applicants being interviewed today to fill the position of my personal assistant, ever since the last one bolted. She didn’t last more than two weeks, a big surprise. 

Pete had been blowing up my phone for the last ten minutes, and I finally had had enough. Without an announcement or a knock, I stride into his office, fully intent on finding out what the hell he wants. 

“I’m a little busy, if you haven’t noticed,” he retorts over the head of dark chestnut locks sat in front of him. Presumably, one of the new applicants for my personal assistant. Hmm. 

“Well, ya kept ringin’ me bloody phone, Pete. So, what tha hell d’ya want?” I insist, throwing up a hand that falls to my thigh with a loud slap. 

Suddenly, I wish the quiet little thing would turn around, and give me a look at her. Shy, she is, it seems. There she sits, tucked away into her little shell, dressed to impress in a dark dress. 

“I’m in the middle of an interview!” he exclaims, certainly making a good first impression with the applicant. It makes me wonder for the tenth time why I bother having him do the interviews, but then I remember that I don’t really give a fuck, as long as I don’t have to do them. 

“What fer, huh?” I tease, instantly getting a snappy response from Pete about it being for me, as if I didn’t already know. But, I did, and am only doing this to bother him even more. 

“Ooo, ‘s it now? Ya get me a good one? Huh, Pete?” I grin, taking a step forward as a hand in my pocket plays with the tiny, metal guitar attached to my key ring. Sticking my head out as I move forward, my eyes dance across her head, and her profile that soon comes into view. “Hullo, love. Gonna be me new one, are ya? Petey here says I can’t keep one fer tha life o’ me, so here he ‘s interviewin’ me anotha one. How’s she doin’ so far, Petey? Think she’s a winna?” I joke aloud, knowing full well the effect my words have on the both of them. 

My subsequent introduction falls from my lips after a retort from Pete, and then the stranger finally turns to look me in the eyes. I rack my brain, trying to put a name to her face from a prior conversation with Pete. Or was it going over her resume when it came in the other day? I can’t remember which, and I blame it on her captivating baby blue eyes, as well as the intoxicating smile that greets my own. Words float from her lips and grace my ears for the very first time, and I knew immediately that she was something else. 

“Hi, my name is Becky. Becky Holte.”

Little did I know how drastically she would change my life, sometimes I thought for the worse, but ultimately for the better. The better, always. I had no way of knowing at that very moment, how many times she would come to save me.

My Becks.

+

The sound of homemade ravioli filled with chicken and three kinds of cheese is almost making my mouth water. It also makes me wonder when Harry will finally be here, and habitually, my eyes lift to look for him. To my surprise, I find him standing a ways away with the sweetest smile stuck to his lips. 

“Hiya, Becks. Sorry ‘m late. Ya look . . absolutely gorgeous, by tha way,” he comments once he’s within a few steps of the table. He reaches across to squeeze my arm before sitting down across from me, a blush pinching his cheeks. 

“Thank you, Harry. I uh, like the suit you went with, you look very handsome in it. Good choice,” I return, failing to not focus on the fast thrumming deep inside of me. 

“Ya, a certain sumbody said it was their favourite on me, so I couldn’t disappoint,” he grins with a shrug, unfastening the button at his waist, exposing the satiny black button-up hidden underneath. 

“Good, I’m glad you didn’t,” I smile, sure of the warmth he can see filling my cheeks, because I can see it mirrored in his own. “I like that you kept the stubble.”

“Why thank you,” he comments, once again rubbing it with his thumb and forefinger, and like before, making me all the more jealous. “I trimmed it up a li’l bit, figured I betta.” 

“Oh, I hope you keep it. I think I prefer you with it.”

“D’ya now, Becks?” he teases with a lift of his eyebrows, his tousled curls almost tickling his forehead, but just barely. “‘ll hafta rememba that,” he smiles, and more than ever, it’s incredibly contagious. My cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling by now, but I don’t even mind. 

“The um,” I begin nervously, my eyes falling to the elegant paper menu opened in front of me. It pains me to look away from him and the sunshine emanating from his smile, but it’s not so bad when I feel his chelsea boot knock against my heel, remaining there against the back of my ankle. “Chicken ravioli sounds good, as well as the margherita pizza, and Cacio e Pepe. Lots of good choices for dessert, too.”

“Mmm, they all sound good, love. Thanks fer lookin’ fer us,” he muses aloud, head bent down to peer at the menu when I glance over to him. 

His habit returns and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, and somehow, it makes my smile grow bigger. I didn’t think that was possible, but here I am with aching cheeks. I nudge his foot with mine and he looks up with a question on his face, soon relaxing into a sparkling smile. That effervescent look in his eyes from the other day returns, and if I hadn’t known it already, I truly could look into his eyes for the rest of eternity. The dimples haven’t left his cheeks since he arrived, and his raspberry lips beg at me from across the table. 

“Let’s give it a try then,” he remarks, closing his menu without breaking our eye contact. The words dipped in honey flow from his lips and tickle something inside me, and I want more than anything to hear another meaning in them. His foot nudging at mine in return only makes me give in to it, and so does his wink. 

Our server arrives at our table shortly, and I thank God for the champagne she pours into tall flutes, not taking the edge off fast enough. A conversation blossoms between us about his case, and then mine with Myles. 

“Ya did great by tha way. Congrats on tha win, Becks, ‘m so fookin’ proud o’ you,” Harry grins adamantly, sweetness pouring off of his words that come out with a shake of his head. 

“Thank you so much, Harry. Wait, how’d you know we won it? I was just going to tell you,” I ask with furrowed brows, and receive a measly shrug of his shoulders in return. The look on his face, as if a revelation is threatening to burst from his lips, teases at me until it abates when the server brings us waters and we order. 

“So so bloody proud o’ you t’day, Becks,” he whispers as she pulls out her notepad and a pen. Possibilities blossom within my mind after he sends me a coy wink and knocks his foot against mine again. It doesn’t leave my own throughout the rest of our time there, during our meal and the laughs we share over glasses of champagne, and a plate of Tiramisu that I somehow let him share with me.

+

“I knew it! You were there today, sitting in the gallery, weren’t you?!” I exclaim, mumbling a short ‘thank you’ when he opens the car door for me. 

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs casually, walking around the front of the car as I fall onto the leather seat. 

“Harry Styles!” I nearly shout, if it weren’t for my voice dissolving into a giggle as he slides behind the steering wheel next to me. 

“What? I had some stuff t’ do at tha courts, so I may have popped in fer a mo’,” he explains. 

“Sure,” is all I say as I pull the seat belt across my chest. 

“Hush, and play some music, bug. Here,” he insists, handing me his grey iPhone that looks normal sized in his hand, and then gigantic in mine. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to watch?”

“Coz o’ that right there, Becks. Yer nervous ‘bout it right now afta tha fact, imagine how ya woulda been if ‘d told ya I was comin’ befo’ yer argument t’day,” he returns, pressing buttons on the dash and soon, waves of hot air greet my cold body. 

“I guess you’re right.”

“‘m what? I didn’t catch that,” Harry jests, cupping his ear. A scoff flies from my lips and I playfully swat his shoulder. “Hey, watch it. ‘m drivin’.”

“You haven’t even switched gears, so shut up,” I laugh, catching the eye roll he thinks I don’t see. “I see that eye roll, Styles, you better watch it.”

“You betta watch it, Becks. Betta pick a good Spice Girls song too, ‘m payin’ attention,” he jokes, soon his fingers diving into my side. A laugh escapes me unwillingly, and yanks my eyes over to his giggling lips. 

His name leaves mine in a near shriek, and after a blink, his tickling fingers are gone and lacing between mine. The dark flecks in his sage green eyes catch under the overhead light before it turns off automatically. He gives my hand a good squeeze as his eyes melt into mine, and a zing of electricity runs up my fingers and then my arm. The smile falling into his cheeks mirrors the one that’s been glued to my lips all night, and now grows higher and higher. I return the squeeze just as he looks to his mirrors, the click of the doors locking when he shifts to Reverse. 

It almost hurts to look away, but so many other feelings and thoughts are occupying me as my eyes fall to his phone. Disbelief washes over me as his long, ringed fingers sit between mine. It only grows when he lifts our intertwined hands up and over the middle console, to sit on his warm thigh.

An uninvited wave of pain hits me when I spot familiar sad songs amongst his music library, like the familiar ‘When She Loved Me’ that could make any Toy Story fan weep within seconds of hearing it. It intensifies when my eyes run over the songs Before You Go, Wish You Were Here, Say You Won’t Let Go, and With or Without You. Chancing a glance over at him, he stares straight ahead into the dark night, and a bittersweetness greets me. I try not to let it in, and the realization that perhaps those lost seven months were hell for him too, as were those five days apart. 

“Find it? I have Spice World on there sumwhere. I know I have loads o’ shit on there, sorry,” he comments, turning his head to check his left before pulling onto the busy road. 

“Y-Yeah,” I stutter, looking back to his expansive music library spanning from the 50’s to current music. His thumb drawing circles onto my knuckles brushes some of the sadness away as I bring up the album he speaks of. 

“Bloody hell, why ya choosin’ tha sad one, Becks?” he titters, glancing over to me when we come to a stop at a light. His smile shining back at me whisks away the last drops of the sadness, but hints of it remain with me, begging to be felt. I shrug my shoulders as the beginning lyrics of ‘Too Much’ fills the car, and I only turn it up louder. “I get t’ pick tha next song, if yer playin’ sad stuff. Bloody rubbish you are at pickin’ songs,” he sighs jokingly with a shake of his head, curls tickling his ears and the nape of his neck. 

“I am not!” 

“‘Kay, brat, keep talkin’,” he snickers, earning another scoff from me that he answers with a harder laugh. I cast my eyes to the window with an exaggerated whimper, soon hearing his profuse apologies. “‘m kiddin’, Becks, bloody hell. I already know ya have a good taste in music from all o’ our talks. I like this song too, jus’ thought ya’d go fer some happy songs, seein’ tha . . occasion and e’rythin’. Hey.” 

I answer him with my eyes returning to him, finding his wink before he looks back to traffic, and with my thumb coasting back and forth across his smooth skin. I listen to the lyrics, feeling another squeeze of my hand from him before I change the song. 

“Hey, don’t change it befo’ ‘s done!” he exclaims, and I just laugh, watching his shocked lips soon do the same. 

“Then stop complaining,” I argue, catching another roll of his eyes as the car slows to a stop in front of another light. Joy buds on my lips as the surprise unfolds on his features, meanwhile his eyes crinkle, the dimples fall deeper, and his raspberry lips thin out as a smile consumes his face. 

“I knew ya were sumthin’ special,” he notes aloud with a shake of his head, a giggle emanating from his joyous smile, right before he joins me to sing along to Shania Twain’s ‘Man, I Feel Like A Woman.’ 

His fingers laced between mine continue to send my heart into overdrive as we belt out the song between contagious laughs, and then another crowd favourite, ‘You’re Still The One.’ This one gets me and sometimes throughout the song, I can’t get myself to look at him with the sincerity held in the lyrics. As well as the words that hit too close to home. 

Finally, I can’t stand it anymore, and my eyes drift over to his at the end of the song, finding that his are already on mine. “‘m so glad we made it. Look how far we’ve come, my baby,” Harry finishes with his eyes dancing upon me with that smile dripping with molasses. As if his hand squeezing mine periodically throughout the song wasn’t already making me want to cry, now I really could. I return the gesture before looking out the window, blinking back the arriving tears from my eyes as those lasting words sing inside of my head. 

Yeah, we finally made it, Harry. Belatedly, but finally.

+

“‘s been years since ‘ve been here, hasn’t changed much tho’,” Harry remarks softly, only a few steps away from my door. 

“Yeah, the inside looks bout the same too.”

“‘m sure. Maybe I could see fer meself one o’ these days,” he remarks aloud, and when my eyes drag over to his nervously, I answer him with a nod. 

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he coos, rubbing the pad of his thumb along the back of my hand. A shy smile nudges at the edge of my lips as he stands in front of me, my right hand still safe within his. “Well, I had a wondaful time t’night, thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and thank you too. I had a lot of fun . . with you.”

“So did I, bug. ‘ll um, text you later then?” Harry says, clearing his throat awkwardly, his bottom lip soon returning to its nervous spot. 

“Y-yeah, sounds good,” I mumble quietly, eyes falling to my hand that he drops. The absence of his warmth against mine feels very strange now, having been holding hands for the entire drive and subsequent walk up to my apartment. 

“Night, Becks.”

“Goodnight, Harry, careful driving,” is the last thing I say before slipping behind my door, finding Skye perched on the sofa. The monotonous, forced words echo in my ears and my eyes fall to the floor, disappointment flooding every inch of me. 

“So, how’d it go?! Did you finally fucking kiss him?!” she shouts the second the door meets its frame. 

“No,” I admit between shy lips, the steps I take seeming as if they’re from somebody else’s body, not mine. The entire last five minutes feels like somebody else had lived them, not me. No, it can’t end like that. “Not yet, anyways,” I rush, ignoring my shoes I already toed off, spinning around and ripping open the door. “Harry, wait!” I exclaim, finding his surprised expression waiting in front of the lift. 

“What?” he asks, eyebrows bent into a questioning mess. 

“I-I forgot something,” I manage, the words spilling out in a heap while he closes the distance between us, stopping right in front of me. Right where I need him. 

“Forgot what, bug? Did ya forget yer shoes in me car?” he titters, the fluorescent glow overhead picking out the few blonde hairs in his stubble. 

“No . . something else,” I finally admit, taking a step when there aren’t any left. 

The dimples remain set into his cheeks while his eyes fall to my lips and mine raise to his. His facial hair is prickly and dense under the pad of my thumb, and his coveted bottom lip is warm and pillowy. The golden hue of his olive green irises fills my mind when my lips finally meet his, and at last, I find his bottom lip between my own. His sweet giggle sounds against my lips as my fingers get lost in his buttery curls. I come to echo it when his hands shock me with their coldness against my hips, pulling me closer to him. One strays to the back of my head as his lips move against mine, the word ‘finally’ repeating incessantly within my mind. His barely there beard is scratchy against my skin, contrasting to the smooth tip of his nose grazing my cheek. The cinnamon and cocoa powder from the Tiramisu cake tickles my taste buds while his spicy vanilla smell covers me like a blanket. Zings shoot across my palm pressed to his smiling cheek, his facial hair prickly against the sensitive skin. 

Not feeling like what was actually mere seconds later, air fills my lungs when we pull away at the same time, sharp inhales filling the air. Quickly, his sweet giggle joins it, and ropes one of my own in. The tip of his nose leaves trails on my cheek as his forehead falls onto mine. 

“Ya have no idea how long ‘ve waited fer that,” Harry rasps, his warm breath dancing across my lips. His own press a whisper of a kiss to mine briefly, although after that, now I’m sure it could never be long enough. 

“I think I do know,” I mumble, my hand straying to his chin where I brush the tip of my thumb against the flesh of his bottom lip. 

“‘m sorry it took us so long, bug.”

“It’s okay, we’re here now. Finally,” I tell him and he nods, the twinkle in his eye bright as can be. For the first time, I let myself melt and lose myself in the greens of his eyes. Something I have wanted to do ever since the very first time I looked into his green eyes and knew I was fucked. 

“Yes, we are. And look at you, Becks. Ya beat me t' tha first date and tha first kiss,” he smirks with a decadent laugh adorning his words. I can’t help but join him while I twirl a ringlet of his hair around the tip of my finger against the back of his neck. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Harry. You got the first hand hold, and the first Shania Twain car duet.”

A roll of his miraculous eyes accompanies his continuing laugh, “Ya, well, so did you, but I got tha more romantic one,” he insists, words welcomed by my surprised scoff. 

“Wait, you don’t find ‘Man, I Feel Like A Woman’ romantic?!” I nearly exclaim in faux disbelief, my voice softening into a giggle quickly. 

“Only when you sing it, bug,” Harry smiles, thumbing circles into the small of my back. 

“Wait, you got tha first handhold, brat. Rememba, when I visited you at yer old work that day? Bloody hell, you beat me t’ all tha good ones, Becks. No fair,” he snickers with a sigh to his words, the two contrasting the other. I suffice my response with an obligatory nod, feeling my heart just now starting to settle into a regular beat. “Becks, there’s so many things ‘ve wanted t’ say t’ you, and now, I finally can.”

“I think I know how you feel.” 

“First thing ‘ll say ‘s I get tha second date and tha second kiss,” Harry contends with a smirk held in his eyes. 

“Oh, really?” I giggle and he soon nods. He quiets the laugh beginning on my lips with his own giddy ones, my lips molding against his effortlessly. Thoughts blossom quickly within my mind, including why I waited so fucking long to kiss him. If I’d known all of these years how wonderful it feels to kiss him, I never would have waited this long. Our kisses are slow although hurried, our lips searching for the other’s desperately, and somehow perfectly. Years overdue, and it couldn’t feel any more perfect. 

“Fookin’ hell, I jus’ wanna keep kissin’ you, Becks. Dunno if I can stop,” he chuckles, brushing his nose against mine softly. Shockingly, his eyes are even more gorgeous from this view, and I didn’t think that was possible. Evidently, anything is. 

“You don’t have to,” I laugh and he shrugs his shoulders while his eyebrows mimic the expression, his giggle soon vibrating against my tingling lips. 

“We have loads o’ lost time t’ make up fer,” he notes aloud. 

“Yes, we do. A couple years, give or take.”

“Mmmhmm, yer right there, li’l one. Fook, there were so many times I wanted t’ kiss ya ova the years,” he sighs with a sad shake of his head. His dimple is soft under my fingertip, hidden under the warm brunette facial hair. 

“Then kiss me.”

Too soon, his lips leave mine after a short peck, but I press at the back of his curls and envelope his laugh with my lips. My name falls from him in a delighted whisper before one more kiss. Our laughs grow louder only to be muffled, although weakly, when a figure walks by into their nearby apartment. My face runs to the crook of his neck, my very favorite song dancing along my ears as he holds me against him. 

“Nothing to see here, sir,” I joke, and the warmth filling my insides grows at the sound of his happiness. 

“No, I rememba I got tha first handhold that night we went out fer drinks tha first time. Tha night with tha Purple Hazes and all those shots,” Harry insists from above me, and I give him the funniest look when I come out of hiding. 

“You’re still going on about that?” I ask in near disbelief, watching his curls move when he nods his head, dipping to meet my lips with his for a slow kiss. 

“I don’t want this night to end,” I hum against the strawberry color of his decadent mouth. 

“Neither do I, Becks. ‘ve been waitin’ fer it fer so long,” he agrees, the wispiness of his eyelashes ghostlike against my forehead. 

“It’s getting late, and Skye is probably dying to hear how tonight went.”

“Ya betta go and tell tha poor girl then,” he responds, pulling my eyes towards his that sit just a moment away, sending all of the sunshine in my direction. 

“That’s okay?”

“‘Course. I may or may not ring Myles on tha way home t’ tell him all ‘bout it,” he shrugs with a telling lilt to his sing-song voice. The only sound that leaves my lips is an amused laugh that he echoes, and I know that he feels the same way.

At last, I know after over two years that he feels the same way, through and through. 

“We’ll figure out sumthin’ fer this weekend t’getha, sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds great, Harry,” I agree slowly and he nods ever so slightly, leaving kisses starting from my temple and down my cheek. 

“G’night, bug.”

“Night, Harry. Drive careful,” I tell him and once again, he answers me with a nod. 

“I promise, babe.”

“Goodnight,” I almost whisper, the very last breath of the word stolen away by his lips. I wouldn’t want it any other way, I barely am able to think as his lips massage mine between his. His neck is fiery beneath my palms and I’m sure mine is likened to it underneath his fingertips, surges of electricity passing below my skin. The skin is balmy against my blushing cheek when my arms come around his middle, surprising us both with a long hug, before I pull away first. 

“Night, my Becks,” he murmurs against my lips, a shiver running down my spine when he leaves with a final squeeze to my hand. If that didn’t do it, the song flowing from his humming lips sparks memories behind my eyes, but I still can’t figure out where it’s from. But, I know that I have plenty of time to figure it out, and to get all of the kisses that I want from him. 

Fucking finally.

[cinematicnomad]

⭐️ bc I like all of them to choose 😊

LET’S TALK ABOUT BUCK’S PARENTS!!

specifically, james and linda buckley from my fic so show me (family). they went through a couple iterations in my mind before i finally settled on the characters who came to be in that fic. i’m one of those people who loves reading all those A+ parenting tagged fics for john winchester and howard stark and more, so when i first got into this fandom i definitely binged through all the fics on ao3 about buck’s parents. i read the fics where buck’s parents were monsterous abusers, the fics where they were rich distant assholes, where they were divorced, where they were dead, etc etc etc. 

(quick! a fic rec: my favorite depiction of the buckley parents comes from @bibuddie’s amazing fic series the things we lost in the fire which is achingly beautiful and seriously heart wrenching. buck and maddie’s parents in this fic feel like real, lived people who are not one note—they’re not evil or over the top assholes, they’re just...two people who don’t know how to connect with their kids and it’s had serious ramifications for their relationships. if it interests you, just make sure to pay attention to the tags and archive warnings before reading because it deals with some heavy topics.) 

as soon as i started toying with ~*ideas*~ of writing a 911 fic, i knew i was interested in tackling buck’s parents. i mentioned to @crazyassmurdererwall that i was fiddling around with an idea and we talked about it for a while, working through my thoughts. they certainly evolved over time. i made this gifset about maddie and buck’s shared past around the time of that conversation (my first 911 gifset!) to keep track of what was canon for my own benefit. 

over time i really glommed onto maddie’s line from 3x11 “my mom and dad aren’t bad people. they’re just bad parents.” 

(this got long!! will anyone read this?? probably not)

and i started really thinking: what does that look like? some early iterations of the buckley’s in my mind involved maddie not knowing about how they treated buck (i tend to headcanon that buck and maddie have the same age gap as oliver stark and jennifer love hewitt, so about 12 years) but i wound up moving away from that idea. and then there were ideas about them being too invested in their kids lives, wanting to have an opinion on everything (this kind of came from the canon fact about them not liking doug and letting maddie know) but i wound up moving passed that too: i figured parents who were extra involved would have been mentioned in re: maddie’s kidnapping, the ladder truck bombing, buck’s embolism, the tsunami, maddie’s relationship with chimney, etc, etc. 

that’s when i kind of started looking at buck more closely. and actually the first thing i wrote for the fic was the scene with buck and eddie talking about his parents—i pulled up my notes app and just knocked that whole scene out and didn’t know what i was going to do with it. obviously it changed some once i started writing the fic (i had no intention of using that scene when i started writing the opening of eddie at the firehouse). and while considering buck i thought about the fact that he was clearly seeking out a family connection through the 118, how he was willing to wait for weeks (months?) after abby left and didn’t think anything was wrong when they weren’t speaking to each other, how he didn’t tell maddie or anyone when his leg was hurting, how his first instinct when he spotted eddie during the tsunami was to hide, and more. 

which is kind of how i settled on james and linda buckley. two people who i imagine are mid- to upper middle class, who planned to have maddie in their late-twenties and were looking forward to having the most of their 40s to themselves only to, surprise, conceive buck in their late 30s/early 40s. and i don’t see them as people who resent the fact that they had buck, more just a little befuddled by it all. i pictured them as the type of parents who cared about buck’s grades but weren’t the type to check if he was doing his homework or intervene if help was needed unless it was dire—they’d pay for a tutor if a teacher suggested it was necessary but they’d never come up with the idea themselves. 

and i saw them as the types of parents who just ... don’t engage on a personal level. they’re happy to talk about the news and politics and pop culture and history, but i don’t see them as the types to check in with buck and maddie about their friends or relationships or feelings. i pictured them as people who loved their kids but were a little uninterested in the actual act of parenting—not actively resentful or hateful, just...not their top priority. i genuinely believe (in this fic) they love buck and maddie, that they’re proud of them, that they were worried about maddie in her relationship with doug, that if buck had asked after the bombing they would have dropped everything to be by his side. but i just don’t think they would ever be compelled to make that effort without first being prompted. 

(my FAVORITE moment in the fic to write about their lack of awareness when it comes to kids: after Eddie agrees to go to lunch with the Buckley’s, “...James looks pleased. He claps a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, jostling Chris in the process and waking the boy up.” I liked that disconnect—he’s sincerely happy and wants to get to know Eddie and is being totally friendly, but he’s just hyper unaware of Chris.) 

over time, i figured that buck would pick up on that. which is how you get to where buck is in the fic: he loves his parents, but he doesn’t see them as people to turn to during a crisis and he doesn’t expect them to come take care of him. 

this has gotten very long and gone on a wild tangent but basically: i really loved writing james and linda in this fic. two people who i believe genuinely do love buck, who are hurt by his revelations during the lunch scene, and who will work to improve their relationship now that they know how buck feels about it. 

come into my ask box and ask for the “director’s commentary” on a particular story, section of a story, or set of lines! 

[kumawrites]

Love Tutorial (NOT CLICKBAIT)

Shinso x fem!Reader

A/N: hi lovelies i’m back with, you guessed it, more shinso!!! this fic is 100% self indulgent bc i absolutely love makeup lol. i’m trying out a bunch of different things in terms of formatting so like tell me if this section looks ugly LMAO. anyways pls enjoy !!

words: 3.8k

summary: You’re a popular Beauty Guru™ and Shinso is primarily a commentary channel. He follows one of your tutorials, only to be surprised by you talking about how fine he is.

—

“That will be all for this video, if you enjoyed it please show some love by clicking on the like button, and if you like me, subscribe! Like always, feel free to tag me if you recreate this look, I love seeing all of your posts! I’ll see you Earthlings later, bye!” With both hands waving and a bright smile, you successfully finished filming your outro that you have possibly said three hundred times.

Before you could even get a word out, Mina was screaming into the phone. “Y/N? OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD. YOU WON’T BELIEVE THIS. I’M FREAKING OUT FOR YOU! AHHHH!” You winced, not expecting her to be that loud. Sure, you knew quite well that she could get loud, but that’s because she gets excited. So to be this noisy must mean something big is happening.

“Why, hello to you too Mina. How’s my day going? Good! Thank you for asking. I would ask how yours is going but from the sound of it, I’ll assume pretty good.” You snickered into the phone.

“Well, my dear Y/N, it’s about to be even better than just good!” Mina’s volume was significantly lower, but you could still tell just how excited she was.

“Oh really? What’s going to make my day better than? Wait let me guess, NikkiTutorials resigned and gave up her spot as the most iconic beauty guru and gave it to me?” You snorted. If only.

“No! It’s even better!” The pitch of Mina’s voice kept raising higher and higher.

“Okay, okay, spit it out Mina. You’re really making me curious and I don’t know if I should be worried or not.” You grabbed your glass of water from you table and took a sip. Gross, warm. But it was too much work to get a new glass so you began downing this one.

“SHINSO HITOSHI DID A REACTION VIDEO TO ONE OF YOUR TUTORIALS!” You choked on your water and half of it went down the wrong way. You began coughing and Mina, the little bitch, didn’t say anything while you were dying. You could imagine her just sitting there, waiting for you to respond after your coughing fit.

After getting it all out, you swallowed, eyes still wide. “Mina, you’re not joking right now, are you? Because if you are, I know where you live, and I won’t hesitate, bitch.”

“I’m not! I’m really not! Check his channel, he, like, just uploaded it!”

You grabbed your laptop and opened Google Chrome. “Call me back on FaceTime, rat.” You told Mina before hanging up on her. You typed YouTube into the search bar while Mina called you back. When you answered, you could see that she was also in her filming room.

Mina, like you, is a beauty YouTuber that is well known for her flawless skin, even though she has the simplest skincare routine you have ever seen. Her chipper personality also drew in a ton of fans towards her channel. The two of you had met through YouTube and were soon to find out that you lived in the same city. Your friendship really bloomed then, and you basically live at each other’s houses.

You got onto YouTube, and lo and behold, there it was. Obviously you were subscribed to Shinso’s channel, so the first video of pop up was his. It was titled “i learn how to become beautiful” and his thumbnail was him with his signature “kill me now” face on with some patchy, hot pink, glitter eyeshadow all over his eyelids. But also, you were there! You were in his thumbnail which could only mean one thing: this was real.

“HOLY SHIT MINA, I’M IN HIS THUMBNAIL.”

“I KNOW! NOW WATCH THE VIDEO! I HAVEN’T SEEN IT YET THOUGH SO TURN THE VOLUME UP.” She screeched and you did.

You clicked on the video and there he was, Shinso Hitoshi, looking as good as ever. His tired eyes that screamed “I could die at any given moment” and his messy hair that somehow defied physics. It has to be downright illegal to look that hot. Today he was sporting one of his merch items, a hoodie that had simple print on the front of it saying: I’m Shinso Over This. Of course you owned that very sweatshirt. You would never miss out on a chance to buy his merch.

“Hi. I’m back, unfortunately.” His tone was as dry as it always was. “I was harassed into doing this, go bully Denki on Twitter because this is all his fault. But today I’m going to be making myself beautiful with the help of Y/N. Okay, she’s not actually helping me, but I’m going to watch one of her tutorials.” Your heart pounded as he mentioned you. One of creators that you loved the most is going to follow one of your tutorials. You could die happy now.

“HE SAID YOUR NAME!” Mina shrieked from your phone and you nodded eagerly as you kept your eyes glued to the computer.

“I’m going to choose this one, “EASY Valentines Day Makeup Tutorial + Q&A!” because it says easy.” You watched as your face from the most recent Valentine’s Day popped up. In the intro, you had already filmed the tutorial part and were wearing the full face. It was a fairly easy look, to you at least.

You had done a simple glitter cut-crease, primarily using warm toned reds and pinks with some winged liner and false lashes for your eyes. Your face had some sharper contour and heavy blush that trailed from one cheek to another, using your nose like a bridge. And of course, you had used a super glittery highlighter that reflected with all of your studio lights. You had also used a maroon liquid lip.

“Greetings, Earthlings! It’s me, Y/N, and I’m here to do another tutorial! Today we’re going a Valentines Day themed full face, and I’m also going to be answering some love related questions you asked me on Twitter since it is Valentines Day after all. If you’d like to recreate this look, as always I listed all the products I’m going to use down in the description!” You pointed your fingers downwards. “Without further ado, let’s get started!”

Shinso paused your video and held up a Sephora bag. “I spent so much money on this stuff, and I’m never going to use it again.” He lazily drawled. The fact that he made eye bags hot was insanity. You wanted to cry for him because some of the products you used were unnecessarily expensive.

Shinso unpaused your video and you had begun priming your face. He dug around in the Sephora bag before pulling out the primer you were using. As he squirted some on his fingertips, he made an especially disgusted look as he felt the consistency of it. He watched as you spread it all over your face, and copied you.

“She didn’t lie when they said easy.” He mused. Mina and you both cackled through your phone. Primer was possibly the easiest step ever because it didn’t affect the way you looked whatsoever. “Uhh, okay now she’s putting on, uhhh, foundation?” He grabbed a bottle of foundation out of the bag along with a Beauty Blender. “The people at Sephora said this was my skin colour, so I’ll believe them.” Shinso shrugged and set the bottle down to get the Beauty Blender out of the box.

You began blending the foundation into your skin and Shinso did the same. “Alright! First question from Andrea! ‘Are you dating anyone right now?’ wow Andrea, you sure did get straight to the point. Unfortunately no, I’m not in a relationship right now.” You had finished your foundation and had moved on to concealing your under eyes.

Shinso hummed as he watched as you put a relatively small amount of concealer under your eyes and looked into the camera, somehow making his eye-bags even more prominent. “Look, I don’t know much about makeup, but I know I’m going to need more concealer than that. Also I’m surprised that they’re not dating anyone. She’s too good looking to be single.” So he unscrewed the concealer tube, and absolutely went to town. He put on so much concealer that you were almost concerned.

“Mina did you hear that?” You asked in a breathless tone.

“Sure did.”

You were already in awe that the great Shinso Hitoshi was even watching your video, but the fact that he called you good looking? Your heart was practically leaping out of your chest as you watched with wide eyes. Your biggest YouTube crush had called you attractive. What a good day.

In your tutorial, you had finishing blending the concealer in and was moving onto baking your under eyes. You dipped your Beauty Blender into the loose powder and stamped it down underneath your eyes. “Now I’m going to let that bake, so I’m going to go ahead and do my eyeshadow right now!” Shinso gave a confused look and paused the video. He applied the powder somehow everywhere but under his eyes. It was honestly impressive how bad he was at this.

“I’m baking? What am I baking?” He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly very confused.

“For my eye look, I’m going to start with this light pink shade called, ‘Love’. How fitting. I’m going to swipe that into my crease and I’ll follow that up with this more hot pink that will go all over my lid. Then, I’m going to deepen my crease with this almost maroon shade and then I’ll cut my crease using the concealer we used earlier and this flat brush.” Shinso looked like you had just grown two heads in front of him. He had no idea what you were doing to your face.

You watched as he messily some hot pink shade onto his lid, rapidly blinking the whole time, not used to someone so close to his eye. He was not going to like tight-lining. He eventually attempted to cut the crease and looked absolutely dead when it was completely too much of his lid.

“I want to die.” He muttered while looking at the camera. His eyes had somehow lost even more life than what he began with, which was, not much.

“Here’s another question that’s coming from Kelsey! She asks: ‘Who do you think the hottest YouTuber is? I personally really like Bakugo Katsuki!’ Oh I’d definitely have to say Shinso Hitoshi! That man is illegally fine.” What did you just say? Your eyes went wide as you listened to yourself. You had completely forgotten what questions you answered in this video, and now Shinso Hitoshi knows that you think he’s hot. But you didn’t stop there.

“One hundred percent, anyone could throw down with me on this one. Shinso Hitoshi is the hottest YouTuber out there. He could curb stomp me, kill my family, and rob me of all of my belongings and I’d still say thank you.” Why did you ever say that. Mina was absolutely losing it on her side, unbelieving that those words had even made it past editing on your part. Why would you even keep that in the video. You wanted to die.

Shinso on the other hand looked very amused, letting out a chuckle of his own. “Didn’t know I was so popular. I’m honestly kind of flattered. But I wouldn’t curb stomp her. Can’t mess up that pretty face.” This was the end of your career. You’re never going back online ever again.

The you doing the tutorial had just begun applying loose glitter onto your lid. “So after applying this glitter base, I’m going to pat this glitter in. If you drag it, it’ll get absolutely everywhere since this glitter is super chunky. So, just lightly pat it in like this.” Shinso did as you told and still managed to have glitter cascading down, covering his black hoodie.

You had moved onto eyeliner and he looked like he was actually going to die, right then and there. He watched you tight-line your eyes and didn’t even attempt it. After creating a wing that looked like it could fly off of his face any moment, Shinso attempted to put a pair of false lashes on. Somehow, they were stuck to his eyelid, rather than where his lashes were. He followed you as you brushed the bake off. You were then moving onto contour, where he managed to make it look like he had rolled in dirt. Apparently, he had no idea where to put contour on his face so he ended up putting it far too high.

The step you were on now involved putting copious amounts of blush on when you answered your next question. “Alright and this one is from Jennie! ‘If you could date anyone, who would it be?’ I guess I hinted at this earlier, but Shinso Hitoshi all the way. I just want to like, hold his hand. I know, scandalous. But really, my thirst for that man is actually unquenchable.” You said with a straight face as you took a sip of water and then winked to the camera.

“Hey Mina, when I die in the next few minutes, can you make sure to clear my search history. Actually, just wipe my whole computer clean.” You sighed as you buried your face into your hands. This was awful. Out of all the tutorials you had on your channel, Shinso Hitoshi just had to pick the one where you basically confess your undying love for him. Mina simply laughed, promising absolutely nothing. Traitor.

On the other hand, Shinso was grinning. It was one of those grins. One that you knew would never let you live this down, and he doesn’t even know you personally. “Seems that I’ve got a fan. I’d love to hold hands, Y/N, you just have to let me know.” His voice drawled, deep and raspy. It would be hotter if his face didn’t look like someone shook up a bag of crushed makeup and threw the contents at him. To be honest, he really just looked like a big train wreck. But, it was still hot, nonetheless.

He did eventually finish the look, setting it all using far too much setting spray. But instead of holding his usual stoic, tired look, he looked like he was planning something. The corners of Shinso’s mouth were still turned up in a sly smirk, and you had a feeling that something was going to happen. You might as well die before you find out to save yourself the embarrassment.

“Well, I can’t say I enjoyed putting on the makeup, but I did enjoy watching Y/N talk about me. Y/N, if you’re watching me, send me a message and we can collab. Or maybe hold hands.” His mouth opened up and his killing grin hit you. This is it. This is where you die. You were internally screaming at the top of your lungs. God, you hated how hot he was even though he looked like Boo Boo The Fool.

“DID YOU JUST HEAR WHAT HE SAID?” Mina screamed out loud for you. Oh god, you were absolutely mortified.

“Well, that’ll do it for this one, if you liked watching me ruin my face, I have more awful videos for you to watch. And even if you didn’t, it’s too late because you’ve already given me ad revenue. If I don’t post my next video soon, safely assume that I’ve died. I might see you next time, bye.” Shinso said his usual outro and you slumped back onto your chair. You looked at Mina on your phone who was grinning ear to ear. Oh no.

“Message him.”

“Absolutely not I would rather die, right here, right now than talk to Shinso Hitoshi about how I confessed my undying thirst for him. So, that means I’m going to die. I want a granite headstone.” You groaned as you stared up at the ceiling.

“You don’t even have to say anything about that though! Anyways, you probably should talk to him. You could just say that you enjoyed his video and thank him for what basically was, a free shoutout. I think it’d be wrong if you didn’t message him at all.” Mina suggested, and well, she wasn’t wrong. It’d be rude to just ignore the fact that Shinso has put hard work and money into making this video. The least you could do was say a simple thank you.

You groaned as you sat up, grabbing your phone from where it was leaned against. “God, I hate when you’re right. I’ll message him though. I’m going to go ahead and hang up then because I still have another video I want to shoot.”

“Yes of course! But make sure to send me screenshots, I NEED to know how this goes down! I’ll talk to you later!” And with that, the FaceTime call was ended. Now you had to will yourself into messaging Shinso and making it seem normal. You would just have to completely ignore all of the moments you called him hot, and hope that he doesn’t bring them up too.

You opened up Instagram and searched up his handle. You were really going to do this. It was now or never, and if you backed out and never messaged him, Mina would never let you live it down and would probably end up messaging him herself. So to avoid embarrassment that would be even worse than what has already been done, you had to message him.

“Hi! I saw your latest video and I wanted to say thank you so much for featuring my video! It really means a lot. Also, I hope you bought an oil based makeup remover, because that stuff is hard to get off. Especially the glitter!” That was appropriate and calm, wasn’t it? You hit send and hoped that he would stay on topic and not mention the fact that you completely exposed yourself.

You sat down your phone and groaned. What if he thought that you were really creepy and was just leading you on to eventually public ally humiliate and ruin you, ending your career as you know it? That was probably a bit extreme, and rationally you knew he would never do such a thing, but you were paranoid.

As you were drowning in your sorrows, a notification popped up on your phone. It was him. He replied so fast that you were taken aback.

“hey thanks. i’m glad you’re not mad that i used your video without permission lol. and no, i didn’t buy one bc no one told me to. but i did get the makeup off with a lot of scrubbing. i was serious about wanting to collab. would you want to do that?” Your face was burning at this point. Collabing with Shinso sounding like an actual dream.

“Absolutely! I would love to! And ouch, is your skin okay? Too much exfoliating can really irritate the skin!”

“yes, i’m okay. i didn’t scrub too much skin off. and great. you live in LA right?? i do too. we should work out a date sometime to talk. we could even hold hands if you wanted to lol.” Oh god, he went a did it. You wanted to scream.

“Ahaha, yes let’s do that! And sorry about all of the rambling about uhh, you. It must’ve felt weird.” Should your casket be wood? A polished, dark oak wood sounded nice. You would look lovely in that casket after you died of sheer embarrassment. But would it look fine alongside a granite headstone? Maybe it should be marble.

“not at all. i’m very flattered. but letting you know, don’t expect me to curb stomp you. i don’t think i’m strong enough to do that. but we can definitely go on a date, and maybe your thirst will go away.” This time, you actually did scream, straight into your pillow. This is the end of you.

You screenshotted the conversation so far and sent it to Mina. You did promise to keep her updated.

She responded, not even a minute later, with far too many emojis. The winky face, the side-looking eyes, and of course, the cowboy. Sometimes, just sometimes, you really hated Mina. But not really.

“WTF DO I RESPOND TO THAT HE LITERALLY JUST INSINUATED THAT HE'S GOING TO DO,,,, STUFF.” You hurriedly typed to Mina. You could imagine her right now, cackling as you watched you panic.

“Just call him hot and catch him off guard LOL. Or say like ur thirst can never be quenched.” You were about to do it. There wasn’t anything else that you could think to say to him that was normal sounding, so maybe this would work? Should your flowers be lilies? Or perhaps daisies would work. Something nice to remember you by. You don’t want your death to be too sad.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think my thirst can go away. It’s pretty intense.” You typed something real ballsy out, as you went to hit ‘select all’ to delete it, somehow, you had sent it to him instead. Amazing! You were going to have a stroke!

“oh? well, we’ll have to see about that, huh? anyways, here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxxx. we can talk about our date later. i have to film another video to make sure people know i’m not dead. talk to you later, doll.”

Ah, the nail in the coffin. You really were dead now. You didn’t even get to plan what you were going to write on your gravestone.

You copied his number and put it into your contacts. Even though you were incredibly embarrassed about all of this, you were definitely going to use that later. Not only to plan a collaboration.

—

my amazing girlfriend does my makeup correctly (ft. Y/N)

[cottonblush]

blooming days | pjs

❧ word count: 2,533

❧ genre: fluff-ish, more to come in later parts

❧ notes: so i was originally gonna make this one super long post but i had this idea of how i could split it up and make it more interesting so i think it’ll be a three part series?? the first part is shorter than the rest because it’s an intro but i just wanted to some background about how jisung and the reader first meet. and i may or may not have been inspired by day6′s m/v series from the sunrise and moonrise albums but that’s irrelevant. this is unedited and i typed some of it out on my phone bc my laptop was being dumb and kept glitching (we don’t stan). btw i’ll be trying out a new layout so we’ll see how it goes

❧ parts: planting, budding, ---

Jisung rests his head on his arms, which lay on the worn out surface of the cash desk, the cool air of the a/c doing nothing to help alleviate the sweat that’s pooled on his neck. Summer is winding down to a close, but it’s a summer day nonetheless, so the air is still thick and the temperature is still high enough that Jisung is tempted to lay down by the tiny produce section of the corner convenience store and give up on his job entirely. It doesn’t help that he’s also extremely bored. He’d usually have some homework to work on or friends to text, but the second semester has only just begun and almost all of his friends have decided to form an Overwatch league without him. He’s in the middle of questioning whether or not he should quit his job when his train of thought is interrupted by two things: the unequivocal fact that he so desperately needs money to pay for his Apple Music subscription and honey butter chip addiction, as well as the jingle of the bell that signals that a customer has entered the store.

“Dude, I know. Like, the fact that she assigned us two whole pages of problems on the third day of school? Not my physics teacher. I don’t claim her,” your voice rings through the almost empty store as you hold your phone to your ear with one hand and use the other to grab a basket. Jisung’s eyes trail your figure as you place multiple bags of honey butter chips in your basket and he feels his stomach practically try to eat itself out of hunger. You grab a small bottle of sprite and head towards the front of the store, still talking about the same teacher, “What do you mean, I can’t not claim her? I, as a decent human being, refuse to accept her as one of our own. She literally has to be an alien. Or the world’s biggest sadist.”

You quickly tell you’re the person on the other side of the line that you have to hang up as you place your items on the table in between yourself and the young man in front of you. You ask him how his day has been, bringing up the fact that he must be suffering in this weather, and Jisung is grateful a chance at human interaction.

“Could be better, to be honest, but at least I don’t have any homework. That must suck,” he says with mild amusement.

Your cheeks quickly turn a soft pink as you scratch the back of your head with embarrasment and reply, “Was I really that loud that you could hear the whole conversation? Wow, I really need to turn it down a notch, don’t I?”

“Nah, you’re fine. It’s really quiet in here and I might’ve been eavesdropping. I get bored really easily.”

Jisung hears a soft chuckle and feels the corners of his own mouth start to quirk upwards. The conversation so far has just consisted of small-talk, and he knows that you’ll be gone within the next minute, but you honestly feel like a breath of fresh air to him. He doesn’t know why but once you pay for your items and leave, he hopes for you to stop by again. He hopes he can get to know a little more about you than just your name (he took a peak at the name on your debit card earlier and knows it’s a little creepy but has no regrets). He’s known for being quite shy, but this time Jisung thinks it’d do him some good to try and befriend you.

Alas, luck is never on his side because the next time he sees you is a month into the semester. You’re wearing a school uniform this time and he literally wants to smack himself because ohmygod you go to the same school as him. How has he not seen you around before? You’ve now completely piqued his interest and he can’t take his eyes off you even as you give him a wary look while walking up to the counter.

When asked if he’s okay, Jisung is snapped out of his reverie and tries not to pretend like he hasn’t almost swallowed his own tongue before responding with, “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… what grade are you in? I’m not trying to pry or anything. We go to the same school, t-that’s all.”

Jisung really wants to slap himself when he finds out not only are you two attending the same school, but you’re also in the same grade. Perhaps he’s going blind just like his friends keep telling him. Perhaps you have a secret ability that makes you invisible when you’re around him at school. Perhaps he’s just been stuck in his own world and too shy. Reluctantly, Jisung admits that the third one holds the most truth.

When asked what classes you’re taking, you explain that you want to major in physics, so most of your classes are math and physical science based. In turn, Jisung says that he’s interested in computer programming, but he has decided to take less challenging math courses so he can fit in his dance electives.

With that small interaction, Jisung feels a little lighter as he watches you exit the store. He’s glad to know more about you, to be one step closer to making a new friend. This is kind of a big deal for him. He really isn’t the most extroverted person, but he’s not a recluse. He’s in that weird gray area where if he knows a person, he can hold a conversation, but there are times when his brain forgets how to get to know a person in the first place. It’s at times like these when he feels the greatest envy towards his friends, Donghyuck and Chenle, who could talk Thanos out of killing half the universe if they really tried. However, he’s also grateful to them because who else will defend him when Renjun comes at him for literally breathing?

Jisung is now more aware of you at school. He sees you in the hallways between classes and in the cafeteria during lunch. Unfortunately, he doesn’t notice you in any of his classes, but the little waves you send each other when you spot one another is enough to satiate what Jisung deems to be “on track” for a friendship.

It isn’t until the end of August that he realizes how close yet far you appear to be for him. He’s let out of class early for once and is one of the first to get their lunch and start eating when Donghyuck loudly plops his tray down across from him and states, “My lab partner is gonna sit with us at lunch from now on so we can work on this project. Hope you don’t mind, but also she’s sitting here either way so you better deal.”

Jisung shrugs his shoulders and replies with a quiet “sure” before going back to shoveling a mix of kimchi and rice into his mouth at an alarming rate. He’s caught off guard, though, when Donghyuck’s partner turns out to be you and you greet said teen by jogging up to him and throwing an arm around his shoulders after placing your tray down along with your books. You smile and say, “Hey, Jisung,” to which Jisung is slightly confused because he’s sure he’s never told you his name and he’s way too forgetful to actually remember to wear his name tag at work. You’re quick to explain that Donghyuck always blabs about him and the others during class, but he shouldn’t worry because he’s actually made out to be one of the normal ones of the bunch.

Much to Jisung’s dismay, the conversation comes to an end due to the reason you've come to their table in the first place. You flip your book open and begin perusing through the material while Donghyuck’s fingers glide across the keyboard of his laptop.

Having nothing better to do, Jisung simply straightens up and leans across the table, trying to take a peek at what his friend and now acquaintance are working on. Noticing his gaze, you slide your textbook toward him and flip it around so you can explain, “We’re starting our boat projects so Hyuck and I are trying to look for good ideas for designs and costumes and stuff. Honestly, when the teacher said we would be starting the project after break, I didn’t think she meant the first week. But like, go off, I guess.”

At this, Donghyuck releases a snort and says, “Don’t encourage it. I swear she has ears and eyes everywhere. She knows everything we’re saying. It’s creepy…”

The three of you chuckle, but not before casting a sweeping gaze across the cafeteria, looking for the aforementioned teacher. For the rest of the lunch period, Jisung and Donghyuck look on the internet for cool group costumes they can put together while you continue to take notes from your textbook. By the time you’re all getting up to go to class, you’ve narrowed the costumes down to the characters of Little Mermaid, gondoliers, or pirates. You also have a basic idea for the structure of the boat. Somehow, Jisung has found himself now apart of your boat project group even though he’s never even stepped into the physics lab before, but he’s glad and even offers for the group to meet at the convenience store so he can help after school.

When Chenle gets back from yet another family business trip—Jisung is highkey jealous that Chenle is rich enough and smart enough to afford taking multiple weeks off of school per semester, but Chenle assures him that it’s not all it’s cracked up to be—Jisung fills him in on what he’s missed. Chenle pouts when he hears how much fun Jisung has been having without him, but he’s quickly reminded that he got to spend two weeks in the Maldives so he promptly shuts up.

Before anyone realizes it, two weeks pass by in the blink of an eye and now it’s become a daily routine for you and one or two of your crew to show up at the convenience store when building the actual boat is getting too tiring or when your fellow groupmate Haknyeon declares for the thousandth time that he is starving and literally cannot cut even an inch more cardboard until he has food in his stomach. This time, however, seems to be a special occasion because the whole group is filling through the entrance one by one (or two by two if you count how Seungmin and Jisu just fought tooth and nail, squeezing through the door frame to see who could get there first).

“Hey, Jisung,” Jisu calls out with a smile, snapping Jisung out of his daydream and making him sit up straight at the counter. He offers up a meek smile and waves to everyone else as they walk in. You and Jisu immediately head to the ice cream section, grabbing several popsicle and fudge sticks each and giggling at the cold sensation against your skin.

“There’s a lot of you today,” Jisung points out, inwardly cringing when he sees Seungmin accidentally knock over a display and poorly putting it back together.

Donghyuck’s head pops out of one of the aisles as he explains, “Yup! We finally finished building so we came here to celebrate! We’re gonna hang out outside so you should come join us.”

Jisung shrugs his shoulders and once he finishes scanning all of their items, he hops off his seat and walks around the counter. He takes a seat at one of the tables outside, figuring if a customer comes in, he can step back in. The rest of the gang joins him and open all of their treats, some choosing to savor the food on this especially pleasant fall afternoon (Jisu and Seungmin) while others choose to shovel everything down their throats as quickly as possible (you, Haknyeon, and Chenle). As if on cue, you and Chenle drop your heads in your hands and groan about having a massive brain freeze. Literally every other person at the table except Haknyeon—his cheeks are stuffed with cheese puffs and when he tries to speak, several little puffs tumble out of his mouth and onto the pavement, causing him to pout and forget about the situation at hand—says ‘I told you so,’ with an indignant smirk.

The atmosphere continues in its lightheartedness and no one notices the darkening sky until the sun has almost completely dipped into the horizon. After cleaning up the mess that has been made, the teens slowly bid their goodbyes and head home. You’re one of the last ones remaining, wanting to buy some more chips to have during your study session later that night. Placing a little package of Hello Panda cookies in your basket, you’re about to tell Jisung you’re ready to pay when you realize there’s an older man, probably a college student, at the cash desk speaking angrily to your friend.

The man continues to raise his voice, practically yelling at this point, “Are you serious? I’m telling you I’m 21! Can’t you just believe me and give me my damn cigarettes?!”

Poor Jisung seems to fold back into himself in intimidation as he nervously stutters out, “S-Sorry sir, I can’t let you have them without an ID. Please c-come back next time with some form of identification.”

It’s when the man slams his fist on the counter and leans forward that you decide this has gone too far and you have to step in.

“Excuse me,” you say, putting up a facade of confidence, “I believe that camera in the corner has just recorded this whole interaction and if you don’t leave now, I won’t hesitate to report you to the police.”

The man stomps out of the store with a huff, but not before knocking down a shelf of candy. Jisung is still in a state of shock as he shakily comes around the counter and starts to pick up the candies. You bend down and start to help him as well, trying to get everything back in place, when he asks, “How do you do that? Y’know, like you were just so calm, collected, and confident?”

You let out an airy laugh as you expound, “Dude, are you kidding? I was so nervous. I totally thought he was going to turn around and punch me in the face or something. But I wasn’t just gonna let him treat one of my friends rudely, so I just did what I had to.”

Jisung can’t pinpoint why, but when he ends his shift and heads home, he has a little pep in his step. Maybe it’s because he’s glad he didn’t have to deal with another confrontational scenario. Or maybe it’s because you stood up for him without a second thought. Either way, he’s glad his day has turned out how it did and he can’t wait for tomorrow.

[elusivefop]

SIR PERCY BLAKENEY’S RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, andrepost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

Mun name: skye OOC Contact: IMs or discord (available upon request!)

who the heck is my muse anyway:

sir percival blakeney, bart. is, by all appearnces, a complete and utter nincompoop. one of the wealthiest men in england, he is known for his expensive taste, fine clothes, and inane, foppish ways. he is the life of a party, a friend to the prince regent, and at the top of everyone’s guest list -- but no one in society has ever taken him seriously. and that is precisely by design. beneath the studied, foppish exterior, is a brilliant, serious-minded adventurer and hero. driven by a desire for action, and a sense of duty and honor, percy has a secret life. he is the mysterious figure known only as ‘the scarlet pimpernel.’ together with his loyal band of equally anonymous compatriots, percy works to rescue innocent victims of the reign of terror during the height of the french revolution. percy and his league manage these daring rescues through the use of brilliant ruses including disguises, forgery, smuggling, and - well - being very, very wealthy. violence is not out of the question, but it is a last resort. the scarlet pimpernel is one of the french revolutionary government’s most wanted fugitives and they continuously employ their best agents to try and stop him. so far, none have succeeded... 

points of interest:

his identity is completely secret to anyone who isn’t part of his most intimate circles, i.e. the members of the league of the scarlet pimpernel and his wife, marguerite. unless we’ve plotted something else ahead of time, your muse will not know he is anything other than the dandified sir percy at the start of a thread.

whether your are interacting with percy’s foppish persona, or his true self, you will find him a generally good-natured and positive person. he has a jovial sense of humor and can always laugh at the absurdities in the world. he absolutely has a serious side and a streak of intensity that he keeps firmly in check, but he is not the type of person who is prone to despair.

percy is a ‘man of action’ type. he is skilled on horseback, with swords and pistols, as well as talented at boxing. he is intelligent, but not an intellectual and never did particularly well in his lessons at school. he did not have the patience for them. he grew up rather wild, with a mother who died when he was young and a father too distracted by grief to pay much attention to him. as a result, he spent much of his youth as a rich, idle, and aimless young man. it wasn’t until later that he found a means to scratch his itch for adventure - i.e. the work of the league of the scarlet pimpernel. he devotes himself to that work until a combination of several factors (the birth of his children and one-too-many near death experiences) convince him to finally retire to a more domestic life. more or less.

he has a nemesis! well, kind of. armand chauvelin, accredited agent of the french revolutionary government, hates the scarlet pimpernel with every fibre of his being and devotes himself to catching him. he discovers the pimpernel’s true identity, but never seems to be able to capture him once and for all. chauvelin views percy as his nemesis, but for percy it’s more ‘oh look! this funny little fellow! let’s see how i can mess with him this time...’ anyway, it’s a delightfully hilarious dynamic 9 times out of 10.

what they’ve been up to recently:

missions! daring escape plots! rescuing the innocent! basically, going about his business as leader of the league of the scarlet pimpernel. this means near-constant travel back and forth from france, as well as balancing this with the need to maintain his cover as a foppish man-about-town. he’s got a lot on his plate...

depending on the verse, his home life may be very different. if threads are set a bit later in his timeline, he may well be a new father with up to two young children at home. percy grew up lacking a steady father figure, so he is adjusting to the role and learning to be the type of parent he wants to be.

where to find them:

london high society: as noted before, percy is at the tippity top of english society. aside from being one of the richest men in the country, he is close friends with the prince regent (later to become king george iv). people find him fun, but ridiculous, and you will find him whereever there is an exculsive ball or dinner or garden party, etc.

france (particularly paris): his work as the scarlet pimpernel means he spends significant periods of time in france, planning and executing daring rescues with the help of his league. he owns several properites in paris that serve as safe houses. while in france he is often (though not always) in disguise -- your muse might meet a nondescript laborer, musician, or curate, not knowing who it truly is...

other locations: percy owns an estate in richmond outside of london, as well as property in scotland and a townhouse in bath (wassup, jane austen muses!), so he can be found in any of those social circles, as well. 

current plans:

save innocent lives, avoid the guillotine, stick it to chauvelin, spend as much time as possible with marguerite and their kids

desired interactions:

the scarlet pimpernel needs you! join the league today! seriously, be in on his secret and join him on adventures and rescues! the league is a group of approximately 19-20 noblemen, but for plotting purposes, anyone can join if they gain percy’s trust. come chat with me on im if you’re interested!

i’m luke skywalker. i’m here to rescue you. what it says on the tin. if your muse or your muse’s family/loved ones are in danger, seek out the scarlet pimpernel to help you out today! just call 1-800-sinkmeh!

party like it’s 1792. fop!percy is a delight to write and i love throwing him into high society situations. parties! balls! whatever! will it lead to other adventures? will your muse figure out who he is? who knows! let’s find out...

somewhere over the rainbow.  so um i haven’t actually written out like 99% of my verses, but i am always game for crossovers and aus. i’m currently working on a modern verse, a kingsman au, and several sci-fi fandom verses because i’m me and that’s what i do...

Offered interactions:

pretty much covered by the section above - the league’s rescue services, ridiculous party guest, etc. etc.

one quick note about shipping - it’s unlikely to happen unless you’re writing marguerite. he’s a devoted, one-woman man. now, if there seems like there is/might be chemistry, i’m open to discussing aus and developing a ship that way, but it probably won’t happen too often.

i’m open to most ideas, tbh, barring threads that dive willy-nilly into triggering topics. those are a no-no.

basically just come at me!

current open post/s:

i don’t really have any yet, but when i do they will be tagged ‘open.’ these will be for mutuals only.

anything else?:

feel free to hmu in my ims or on discord if you have ideas, plots, or even just questions about percy! 

tagging: anyone who made it to the end of this post lol

tagged by: me