#like I’m glad I got them but i really think they lowered the rate

[fadingdaggerr]

Can you make a fic based on my two fav melissa schementti fantasies

melissa calling reader by pet names and making them completely flustered x melissa making reader jealous on purpose

basically all this happens before they date/confess

and when melissa has had enough of reader not making any moves and hiding from her, melissa takes charge and ends up making out w reader.

i know this is a little difficult to write but tysm i really love ur fics 😭🫶🫶

wishful thinking

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above!

warnings/includes: ridiculously clueless!r and a not clueless mel, gary but only for plot purposes, making out

translations: gioia (joy/happiness), tesoro (darling/treasure), gavone (pig/slob)

note: i’m so sorry i haven’t been active. i’ve been dealing with a lot the last few months and haven’t had even a second to breathe. better note at the end <3

Melissa would never admit to anyone how much she liked the effect she had on you. She loved to watch your head duck down nervously when she complimented you or guided you along with a hand on your lower back. Every single time she left the light tremor of your body, but not once did she mention it. You were glad she couldn’t feel your heartbeat the moment her attention was on you.

—

The first time she noticed it changed her entire perspective on you.

Melissa wasn’t the kind to talk to the new hires, the turnover rates at Abbott were laughable and they never stayed more than a couple of months. But after a few months, she started to pay attention. Over time, she got to see just how much you really cared for the kids. She had stopped by to ask if you had an extra purple whiteboard marker, but she was met with the sight of you kneeling in front of one of your students, big, sad tears in her eyes. She could just barely hear the mutterings of I know it hurts sweetie and the one that made a little smile cross her lips, of course I have shark band-aids, what am i? A chump? She sees you start to stand to grab the bandage and decides to move now before she gets caught staring.

Right as she steps close to you, you rise and spin around. Your action staggers as you notice her form too late, and nearly falling as you try to avoid running into her, nearly. Strong hands grasp your upper arms, saving you from landing flat on your ass.

Your head tilts up to face her, finally registering that it was Melissa. It takes you a second to breathe before you let out a little, “thank you.”

“Of course, hon. My fault anyways,” she says with a small smile. There’s an almost too long pause before she realizes her hands are still on your arms, dropping them immediately to fold them across her chest. You’re almost in a daze just looking at her, but you have to keep up appearances.

“Did you need something?” You say with a soft smile. Melissa noticed how your eyes never left hers for a second after she called you hon, she also thinks that you’d never looked her in the eyes before then. It had never gone unnoticed that you always looked at her bangs or the frame of her glasses whenever you’d spoken before.

Interesting... Melissa thinks to herself.

—

And then Melissa began to see a pattern.

You’d given her the extra dollar she needed for her iced tea, four quarters stacked tails-up in front of her. She didn’t ask anyone, only sighed when she checked her purse.

“Thanks sweetheart,” Melissa said without really thinking.

Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before you catch yourself, accompanied by a quick inhale. Licking your lips and averting your eyes from her, you quietly say, “yeah. of course, anytime.”

Barbara must notice Melissa’s intrigue suddenly and speaks up, “dear, why don’t you come sit with us? I don’t think we’ve gotten a chance to know each other just yet.”

This marked the start of yours and Melissa’s friendship.

—

“You got plans Saturday?” Melissa says as she pours a cup of coffee into her Tucci mug.

You look up from your phone and take a breath in, “I have lunch with my cousin at noon, but I’m free later on. Why, what do you have planned?”

“That flea market’s coming back around, the one with the good antiques and the petting zoo,” you almost speak but she cuts you off, “oh, and that apple cider you liked.”

You smile at her remembering that detail before responding, “yeah, that sounds perfect. I can text you when I leave the diner.” Your voice thankfully doesn’t seem to give away how nervous you were trying not to seem. You take a sip from your mug to hide yourself for a moment.

“Great. I’m looking forward to it, babe,” she says through a sip of her own coffee. She stays just long enough to watch you nearly choke on your tea, and then slips out to walk to her classroom with a satisfied smirk on her face.

—

At the development week meeting, she turned to see you looking around for a place to sit. When you miss her wave to get your attention, she decides to yell your name across the gymnasium to get you to look in her direction. Your head whips her way, a grateful smile on your face when you see her waving you over. She decidedly loves the shy smile that was reserved for only her.

Stepping over nurse Makiah to get to the free seat, you finally plop down next to the redhead. Something possesses Melissa and her arm moves on its own to rest across the back of your seat, hand resting on your arm. She feels you stiffen for a moment, almost thinking she’d overstep, but you relax into her touch.

“You didn’t have to save me a seat. These are prime real estate to bleacher-leaners,” you mumble to her as one of the eighth grade teachers goes on about something that wasn’t as important as her fingers tracing little patterns over your shirt.

Melissa chuckles lightly, squeezing your shoulder lightly. She leans in to answer, “but then I wouldn’t have you sitting here, tesoro.” Your eyes go to your lap as you fail to hide the smile from her words, making the redhead’s heart rate pick up.

“You’re too nice to me, Schemmenti,” you say as you lift your head, with what little courage you have, to look at her and smile, leaning into her for a second.

—

Then an idea struck Melissa

Tuesday was vending machine restock day. Tuesday was your new least favorite day of the week. Totally unrelated.

Gary, the vending machine guy, had started a habit of flirting with Melissa. He started with giving her a free iced tea straight from the truck, and then chatting, then complimenting, and then just straight up checking her out with no shame. Every time he entered the room, your voice died in your throat, and your eyes stayed trained on him with a special kind of hatred. You were at least thankful Melissa hadn’t noticed the rage you felt when he had a conversation with her breasts. Melissa, in fact, did notice.

She watched how you stared daggers into his back as he spoke to her, completely unaware of her attention flicking to you every now and then. Your fork angrily stabbed at the lunch she’d brought you, not a single bite being taken since the vendor walked in the door. The more forward Gary got, the quieter and angrier you became. Once he left and Melissa’s focus went back to you entirely, as it always was, your shoulders relaxed and the assault on the pasta stopped.

Melissa decides she has a theory to test. She plays into Gary’s flirting some more, enough that the man is clearly picking up on it, and your hand stills. By the third week, Barbara is begging her to go on a date with the man.

“Girl, he likes you. You should give it a shot, he’s a nice man. Handsome too,” Barbara says with enthusiasm. Your eyes roll as you look at your phone, trying to tune out this conversation. Your resolve cracks a little when Ava mumbles that’s generous in response to Barbara’s comment, a tiny chuckle espacing you.

The kindergarten teacher nudges your hand, “don’t you think she should go for it?”

You struggle with trying to not just flat out say no so instead you settle with, “yeah. Gary seems really nice.” The thin smile on your face is unconvincing to both women, and it’s easy to read on both their faces. You quickly grab your stuff and stand, “I’m gonna head back to my room and pass out their math quizzes. I’ll see you later.”

Once the door closes behind you, Barbara looks at Melissa, “what was that?”

Melissa just shrugs, feigning obliviousness.

When Gary finally gets the nerve to ask her out, she laughs and agrees. You think the gods above must have it out for you, not letting you escape any interaction between the two. The fork in your hand just stabs harder at the food in the tupperware. After watching with a tinge of regret, Melissa finally speaks up.

“You alright over there, gioia?” She asks, her voice filled with real concern. You look at her for a moment, considering what to say, but settle with a nod. When your gaze drops again, you miss her lips dipping into a small frown.

—

Monday morning after the big date, you realize that being in the lounge was a mistake. You should have known to go straight to your classroom, but the need to see Melissa overrode your actions.

As you walked in, everyone was facing Melissa and asking her about every little detail of the date. Where’d they go? Was the food good? Did he offer to pay it all or ask to split the bill? What did she wear? She gives them all they want to hear, and only Ava asks what you didn’t want to know.

“Cut the bull. Did you let him hit or not?”

A chorus of AVA! goes around the room.

The redhead just sighs before answering, “why did you say it like that? And no, I did not ‘let him hit,’ Ava.” You hate that some tension leaves your shoulders after that. The rest of the time is spent with your eyes trained at the floor and ringing in your ears.

Melissa regrets her idea a lot more when she stops seeing your smile altogether and your eyes stop meeting hers.

—

She finally snaps.

Janine had planned to make a whole outing for the Abbott crew, inviting everyone out to a new arcade-bar that Erica had told her about. She’d told Melissa that she should invite Gary, saying that everyone wanted to meet him in a social setting and not just in the ten minutes he was in the school every Tuesday. Inviting Gary couldn’t hurt, she reasoned.

Gary’s phone went to voicemail for the fifth time and all eight of her texts were unanswered. He said he would come, that he wanted to meet everyone for real, but now he was a no show. Melissa felt like a teenager again, getting stood up by her date to homecoming while she waited outside for him. She turned to walk back in, almost running into you as you were coming to check on her.

“Everything alright?” You ask, knowing the answer already since she can’t hide her emotions well when she’s upset.

She huffs a laugh, “peachy. Jackass said he would be here almost an hour ago and won’t return my calls or anything.”

“Want me to beat him up for you?” You ask jokingly, but there’s a certain hope she’ll say yes that sits in your chest. Your heart almost can’t handle it when she smiles at your words, arm looping with yours as she drags you to the pinball machines.

You’d probably lost a student-loan payment in quarters by the time either of you had even won a single game you played. In the course of two hours, both of you had only managed to get a collective hundred tickets that could maybe win you each an eraser. Melissa pretends to not notice you cheating in the driving games, and you pretend not to notice her taking quarters from your cup.

You watch an equally competitive Ava and Melissa play a scary-good match of air hockey, each of them likely to have bruises on their knuckles by the end of the night from how hard they played. Each time she scored, the redhead’s eyes moved to you for approval, and each time she’s met with a little applause and smile from you.

“Wasn’t your man supposed to be here? Or were the Kit-Kats not behaving?” Ava says when they finally take a break from the game to take a drink.

Melissa just shrugs, “he hasn’t answered anything. If the gavone decides to say anything, then he’ll be getting an earful, or a bat to the head. Depends on what he says.”

“Do you even like this idiot?” Ava asks incredulously, saying exactly what you’d been thinking for weeks since they’d had their first date.

Melissa shrugs, “he’s alright. The first date was nice, but the rest have just been him trying to get in my pants.”

“Well,” Ava’s brows bounced a couple times, “are you gonna let him in or not?”

You check out entirely before listening to Melissa’s answer, not even caring how suddenly you left the conversation, just letting your legs carry you until you could finally breathe. You find yourself back with the old pinball machines that no one but you and Melissa had played. Only a few seconds of silence manages to pass before you hear the muffled stomp of boots on carpet, stopping right behind you.

“You gonna tell me what that was?” Melissa asks with your back facing her.

You should have known it was her that would follow you. Part of you wanted to lie and say that the drinks made you feel sick, but you both knew that they were too watered down to even intoxicate a toddler. The other part of you just wanted to scream about how it should be you on those dates with her, driving her home and walking her to the door. You turned to meet her eyes and any courage you had left, feeling like putty when she was so focused on you and you alone. Even though you know what her response will be, you just say, “it was nothing. I’ll be back inside in a minute.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” she says, stepping closer, “you’ve been doing that a lot lately. Just... I dunno, just leaving. You can be in the same room as me and it feels like you’re miles away.”

Your gaze drops to your feet, suddenly feeling insecure now that you know she’s noticed your behavior. You put all your energy into stabling your voice and keeping your lips from quivering at the thought of upsetting her. All you can muster in a tiny voice is, “I’m sorry.”

Melissa surprises you by pulling you into a tight hug, whispering to you, “is this about Gary?” Your heart stops at her words, knowing you’d been found out. The lack of answer and the way your body stiffens tells Melissa everything she needs to know, what she already knew.

Melissa knows that you’ll likely try to explain away anything the second she loosens her hold on you, that you’ll run and she’ll never get this close ever again. So she does the only thing that she can think of at this moment.

As she pulls away, Melissa’s hands cup your face, pulling you into her lips. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you feel her lips press against yours, soft and eager. After a moment, she realizes you’re not kissing her back, her heart cracking as she pulls away from you, ready to run. Her hands drop from your face, eyes blinking rapidly as doubt clouds her mind. Your mind catches up, realizing what had just happened. Melissa begins to turn to leave, but is stopped by your hand in hers. You tug her back to you, cupping her face and leaning forward to finally kiss her back.

She tasted like lipstick and watery vodka, her hands were warm against your wrists where they held tightly. Your mind was in hyperdrive as you took in her lips and her touch, hardly noticing her moving you until your hips met the game behind you. Melissa’s lips parted, her tongue brushing across your bottom lip to ask for entry. You were quick to allow her in, letting her dominate your lips as her hands dropped to grab at your waist. The taste of her lips and tongue became quickly addictive, the feeling even more so. Your hands migrate from her face to her hair, pulling her even closer to you as the kiss turns sloppy from the sheer desperation radiating from both of you.

Melissa’s hands grab at your hips harder as you tug at copper strands, cold fingers creeping under your shirt to rest against warm skin. The force of her body leaning further into you boggles the machine you’re pressed against making a loud buzzer sound and the automated voice yell just a quarter to play! The sudden noises make you both jump, breaking the kiss. Your eyes meet and you both stifle a laugh at the whole thing. Her lips immediately gravitate back to yours, this time softer. The smile you feel against your lips brings your own out, breaking the kiss again. You drop your head against her shoulder, basking in her presence and her hands on your skin.

“You knew,” is all you say, voice muffled against her shirt.

She smiles and rests her head against yours, “I did.”

“How long?”

“The whole time, give or take,” she’s a little surprised when your head pops up, almost smacking her chin.

Your eyes stare straight into hers, “and you said nothing?”

“You didn’t say shit either, don’t even start,” she says with a laugh, no malice hiding in her voice. Her only response is a grumble that sounds something like touché.

There’s so much love behind your eyes, it chokes her up. The way your eyes never left hers, something she missed in the last month, made her feel like the most precious stone. She looks at you for a moment longer before quietly asking, “can I kiss you again?”

The smallest smile crosses your lips as you answer in an equally quiet tone, “you can kiss me whenever you want, Schemmenti.”

feedback appreciated as always <3

note: again i’m sorry for not being active. i started school again and have been working full time while also being a full time student. i also had a death in the family that hit me very hard mentally and i had to take a step back as to not end up in the hospital. i’m going to try to be more active and take time to write more. thank u for being so patient. ilyvm

[patito-oward]

First Night

masterlist

WC: 1.6k

Summary: YN and Pato spend their first night together

Previous Parts: I

me posting?? who is she. i hope you all love please repost if you do 🤍🤍

~

Pato had arrived at her house the next night to take her out once again. They went on a series of 6 dates in two weeks, and had become quite enamored with each other in that time. YN was hesitant at first, trying to keep her guard up while she waited for the other shoe to drop, but Pato had wormed his way in. It was hard to not let her walls down and let him in when he was so incredibly sweet.

Their second date Pato picked her up in a rented Toyota Corolla which made YN giggle when she saw it. “You actually rented a car to pick me up in?”

“I’m on my third strike and I couldn't risk it.”

Pato knew when he first saw her that she was special, but never expected to fall as hard and as fast as he had. He had come to expect that he was not seen as “boyfriend material” for most women. He knows his schedule and frequent travel doesn’t scream commitment. He had gotten used to a few dates, maybe a couple hookups, and not much more. He tried to convince himself he was okay with that. That the one night stands were fun and he needed to focus on his career anyways, and he was fulfilled by it. It worked– sometimes.

It worked until he’d watch a cheesy romance movie and think about how much he wanted someone to be by his side, or until he had a kid come up so him at a race, a gap in their front teeth and incredibly excited to meet him, and he realized how much he wanted a family of his own.

So he cut off the hookups, because after each one he would be left with this lasting feeling of emptiness, and he’d stopped going on dates for the most part, accepting that his career has prevented him from what he really wanted. If it hadn’t been for Elba’s incessant nagging, he wouldn’t have gone on the date with YN. He’s never been more thankful to have such an annoying older sister.

He invited YN over so he could cook dinner for her, and he was suddenly very nervous about how the night would go. He had tried to plan the perfect night, decorating his table with a large vase of red roses and candles, but as she got closer to arriving he started to doubt himself and wonder if it was too much. He doesn’t want a repeat of their first date where she was clearly overwhelmed.

Before he could think too much about it or change anything, his doorbell rang, and he decided to just try and make the best of the night. The second he opened the door he felt a lot better, she had that effect on him, just seeing her seemed to lower his heart rate and calm him down. She looked absolutely gorgeous in a pair of dark jeans and a cropped sweater.

“Hi!” She greeted him with the sweetest smile and he realized how utterly gone he was for her.

“Hi, you look beautiful.” He kissed the corner of her mouth, a quick gesture but even that made his stomach flip, and moved aside so she could come in.

She had seen his apartment before, but only briefly when he realized he left his phone after he picked her up, and invited her inside. He could tell she was really taking in the place now, the night time made it seem different, softer, the few lights he had on cast a soft glow through the place.

The timer on his phone went off and he headed towards the oven to take out dinner. He made pasta for the night, and it was in the oven to bake the cheese he topped it with. It was when they reached the kitchen that she took note of the dining table.

“Is it too much? I’m sorry if it is; I just wanted tonight to go perfect and I’ve messed it up already.” He started apologizing without her saying anything.

“It’s gorgeous. I can't believe you set this all up and thought I wouldn’t like it.” YN assures him, and kisses him hard trying to show him all of her gratitude.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Dinner is easy, like most things have become between them. YN has never felt so comfortable with someone, and wants to tell him everything. Pato already wants YN to know the deepest parts of him, he wants to learn her inside and out and vice versa.

The thing they’ve taken to talking to most is their families, and they’ve learned so much about each other through that. They both have one sibiling, their best friend, and they’re both extremely close to their families. In a lot of ways YN reminds him of Elba, when she talks about her younger sister he can tell how much he cares for her. She tells him about how she used to watch her sister frequently while her mom worked two jobs to support them. In a sense he feels like he’s met her sister and mother, the way she describes them he can tell there’s so much love between them.

They’ve completely gone through the getting to know you stage, conversations now filled with stories and deep conversations about fears and the future.

After dinner they settle onto the couch, and are scrolling for something to watch. Pato has a large, comfy sectional, but YN has chosen to curl up right against him. It sends a warmth through him, he can smell the mix of her strawberry shampoo and vanilla perfume, and decides it is his new favorite smell. He wraps his arm around her and she leans on his shoulder.

They scroll through netflix and find a baking show to spend the rest of the night watching. It was less about what they were watching for both of them, and more about just being together; however, they both got quite into the show, enjoying watching the competition and judging the bakers themselves.

As the night went on, YN grew pretty drowsy on the couch, and after an episode ended announced, “I should probably head home soon.”

When she sat up, Pato immediately missed the weight of her against him. “Ok, I guess it is getting pretty late.”

She kissed him then, “Thank you for dinner.”

“I’ll make dinner more often if that’s what it gets me.” She laughs at his response and leans in for another kiss.

The kiss quickly deepens, but it’s soft and slow. YN moves herself to be sitting on his lap, knees bracketing his hips. Up until this point they haven’t done anything other than kissing and heavy petting. Pato desperately wanted to know every inch of YN, but knows that if he does what he has always done the results will always be the same. Plus the teasing has been incredibly hot, and he’s willing to wait for her.

When they pull away from each other they’re both a little breathless. Pato can feel his heartbeat in his throat, and is glad the room is dark because he’s sure there’s a pink tint across his face. He speaks before he can stop himself, “Don’t go.”

YN freezes in her spot perched in his lap, “What?”

“I don’t want you to leave. Stay, I’ll sleep on the couch if you want, we don’t have to do anything, just don’t go.” He’s begging at this point, but he really can’t stand the thought of her leaving him.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch.” She leans in for another kiss, so soft he almost doesn’t feel it.

He gently coaxes her off his lap and leads her to his room. He grabs them both some pajamas from his dresser. He gives her a pair of sweatpants and an arrow mclaren hoodie, remembering that she’d told him she freezes in the night.

He got out an extra toothbrush for her, and showed her where his face wash and medicine was. While she got ready, he got dressed himself. They switched places when she came out of the bathroom.

As she waited for him she looked around his room, not what she expected, but she didn’t really know what she expected. He had a white comforter and sheets on the bed, with black and copper throw pillows. The furniture is black metal and dark wood, giving an industrial but homey vibe to the room.

He leaves the bathroom and YN takes the opportunity to really sink him in. He’s in a pair of grey sweatpants that make her a little crazy, and a tight white long sleeve that hugs his biceps so perfectly she’s drooling.

They climb into his bed together and YN immediately notices his smell enveloping her. He smells woodsy and warm. YN notices that they both climbed into opposite sides without thinking about it, another way they fit so perfectly together.

Pato lays on his back and YN hesitates before curling into his side. He wraps his arms around her shoulder and she entangles her leg with his and rests her hand on his chest, “Is this ok?” She asks him.

He can’t believe she even has to ask because he’s never been better. “Perfect.”

She starts absentmindedly scratching at his chest, and the last thing she remembers before drifting off is Pato kissing her head and whispering, “Buenas noches.”

That was the first of many nights spent together for YN and Pato. Already fallen for each other much more than either was willing to admit. Their souls as intertwined as their legs.

[morri-draws]

Gwaine x Reader - 'The Threads That Bind Us' - Chapter 13

Story Summary:

You, a humble dressmaker from Camelot’s lower town, are commissioned to make a new gown for Queen Guinevere. Impressed by your skills, she offers you the position of Royal Clothier. During your time in the castle, you catch the eye of one of the knights of King Arthur’s inner circle, Sir Gwaine. What starts as a sweet courtship is turned upside down when misfortune strikes and you must deal with the aftermath, as well as an unwelcome visit from Gwaine’s unpleasant sister.

Rating: Mature

Tags: Female Reader/Gwaine, set between seasons 4 and 5, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 3,795

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Read on Ao3

The next morning after breakfast, you draft a pattern for your new gown, then start making a mock-up. By sunset, the mock-up is sewn and has been tried on about four times, adjustments being made in between, until at last you are happy with it.

The next day, you cut the pattern pieces from silk and begin sewing the proper gown, working non-stop after breakfast until you are interrupted by a knock at your door. You put down your needle and cross the room, opening the door to find Gwaine looking back at you.

“You’re up and about!” You exclaim.

“And glad of it too. I was beginning to wonder if one could die of boredom,” He replies. “Anyway, want to walk down to the market with me and get some lunch?”

“Isn’t it a little early for lunch?”

Gwaine quirks a brow. “I don’t believe so. This is about the usual time,”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been so focused, I didn’t realise how much time has passed,”

“You’ve been working? I thought you’d finished the king and queen’s attire?”

“I did. I’m working on something for myself,”

“For the feast?”

“Yes,”

Gwaine peers over your shoulder. “May I see?”

“No, you may not,” You give a sly smile as you close the door a little, so it’s just wide enough for your face. “I want it to be a surprise,”

He crosses his arms. “Now you’ve got me curious,”

“Well, you’ll have to be patient,” You smirk. “Wait here. I’ll just grab my shawl and then we can go,”

~

Gwaine asks you to show him where you bought the pies for the indoor picnic, so you lead him to the shop and he purchases one for each of you. You sit on a bench just outside the shop to eat them, before heading back up market street. Gwaine seems to take an interest in the market stalls, his eyes darting over their wares.

“Looking for something in particular?” You ask.

“Hmm?” Gwaine snaps to attention. “Oh, not really. Just taking in all that our glorious city has to offer,” He grins.

You continue up market street at a leisurely pace, allowing yourself time to peruse since Gwaine seems to be doing so.

“It’s so good to see you up and about again,” You say once you reach the end of the traders’ stalls. “Does your wound still cause you any pain?”

“Occasionally, if I move a certain way,” Gwaine replies. “But it’s mostly alright,”

“I’m so thankful Merlin helped,” You sigh, dreading to think what the outcome may have been if he hadn’t.

“Merlin?” Gwaine frowns. “It was Gaius who healed me,”

“He did initially, yes. But whatever he was doing wasn’t working fast enough. Him and Merlin argued about how to treat you, and Merlin had to apply his remedy behind Gaius’ back,”

“Well, I’ll make sure to thank Merlin then,” Gwaine smiles. “Sounds like you were quite the regular visitor to my bedside,”

“Of course I was, I was worried sick! I… thought you might die,”

Gwaine halts and takes your hand in his, giving it a firm squeeze. “It means a lot that you were there with me,” He says seriously, before smiling. “But it’ll take a lot more than bandits to get rid of me,”

Your hand remains in his as you continue up the street.

“Merlin said you tended to me while I was unconscious, helped keep my fever down,” Gwaine says.

You nod.

“Spent a lot of time seeing me shirtless,” He smirks.

Your cheeks flood with warmth.

“Did you like what you saw?” Gwaine asks, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You give him a playful shove. “Being improper, and fishing for compliments,” You shake your head, but can’t hold back a smile. “I shan’t say anything,”

“I shall take that as a yes,”

“You’ll do no such thing!”

You continue walking, biting your bottom lip to hold back your grin, while Gwaine keeps step beside you, looking very amused and pleased with himself.

It’s not until you arrive at your chambers that you realise your hand remained entwined with Gwaine’s the entire way back. He unthreads his fingers and hooks his hand under yours, raising it to his lips. He plants a soft but lengthy kiss at the base of your fingers, his eyes locked onto yours. Your heart thumps as you hold his gaze, a flare of desire tearing through your body. He pulls his lips away and he lowers your hand, but still holds it in his.

“I shall leave you to your secret business now, my lady,”

At last, he pulls his hand away from yours, agonisingly slowly, so his fingers caress your skin from your palm to your fingertips, until the contact is finally broken. Heat pools in your core, the skin on your hand buzzing, as if it can still feel his touch. Gwaine gives you a warm but slightly mischievous smile, as if he knows exactly what kind of reaction he has stirred within you, before he turns and heads down the corridor, disappearing around a corner. You step into your chambers, resting your back against the door as you close it behind you, relishing the pleasant sensation coursing through you. You raise your hand to your face, the feeling of his lips still lingering on your fingers, and press it against your cheek, longing for more of his touch. You recall the long talk between you those days ago, the feeling of his arms around you when you were upset, and wish for him to hold you again, but in a moment of joy rather than sorrow.

You stand with those feelings for a time, unaware how many minutes have passed, until your heartbeat settles and you come to your senses. You must refocus your thoughts. You have a lot of work to do before the feast.

~

You spend the last few hours of daylight sewing before stopping to make dinner. Your thoughts remain on the gown as you eat, visualising it finished and how you will look in it, but your imaginings stop short at one detail: your hair. What are you to do with it? You can’t wear your cap to an event like this. Not only is it inappropriate for the occasion, it will completely ruin the look. But your hair length is also inappropriate for any occasion. You would be gawked at and you’d be an embarrassment.

Once you’ve finished washing up, you go to your bedchamber and sit in front of the mirror, unpinning your cap and removing it. Your hair has grown some since it was cut, but nowhere near enough to be socially acceptable. Your mood darkens as you wonder if you should bother continuing with the gown, and the part of you that still fears Gwaine will find your true appearance repellent rises to the surface.

You stare back at your reflection, hair flat and frizzy from being under the cap all day. You tear your gaze away, fists clenched, and prepare for bed.

~

You continue on the gown the next day, though your mind drifts and progress is slow, since your previous ambition has dwindled. As your length of thread is running short, you finish your current line of stitching and fiddle with the needle between your fingers, trying to decide whether you should rethread it or stop for the day, when there’s a knock at your door. Placing the needle down, you stand and cross the room, opening the door to find Gwen.

“I just thought I’d check in,” She smiles. “I haven’t seen you since receiving my gown,”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy. Though I still should have made time for you,” You step aside to allow Gwen to enter.

“It’s quite alright. Have you been spending a lot of time with a certain knight?” She raises a brow mischievously.

“I have,” You admit, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “But I’ve also been working on my own gown for the harvest feast,”

“Oh, may I see?”

You nod and lead Gwen to your work table where the gown is currently laid out, though a bit crumpled.

“That’s coming along nicely,” Gwen carefully smooths out the fabric with her hands, inspecting your work. “I can’t wait to see when it’s finished,”

She looks up at you with a smile, but upon seeing your expression, and your lack of response, her smile falters.

“Are you not happy with it?”

“It’s not that, it’s just,” You sigh. “I don’t know what to do about this,”

You remove your cap, hair falling against your neck and brushing along your collarbones. Gwen approaches, lifting a hand and running a lock of your hair through her fingers.

“It’s grown some,” She says.

“But not nearly enough,”

Gwen’s gaze wanders over your hair thoughtfully. “Have you ever curled your hair before?”

“No,”

“I wonder if we should try it, then it wouldn’t look so flat. I think once it’s got a bit of curl to it, it could look quite pretty,”

“Perhaps,” You shrug. “But I don’t know how to do that. I’ve never been good at styling hair,”

“Well, I am. I did used to be a lady’s maid,” She smiles and glances toward your fabric shelves. “Do you have any linen scraps?”

“I should have something,” You walk over to the shelves and rummage through the collection of fabric, until you find a square scrap of white linen. “Will this do?”

“That will do very nicely,” Gwen holds out her hand and you pass her the linen. “May I borrow your scissors?” She asks.

“Of course,” You retrieve them from your sewing box and give them to her.

Gwen thanks you and she lays out the piece of fabric on a clear section of your work table, before cutting it into strips. Once all the fabric is cut, she stacks the strips into a neat pile.

“Wet your hair tonight,” She says. “But don’t soak it. It needs to be just damp. I’ll come back after dinner and show you what to do. This can be a trial run. If you like the results, we can repeat the process the night before the harvest feast. If not, we can try something else,”

~

Gwen arrives at your chambers about an hour after you finish your dinner, and you carry a chair to your bedchamber, Gwen refusing one for herself since she says it’ll be easier to do the process while standing. You place the chair in front of the mirror and sit, while Gwen arranges the fabric strips and comb on the vanity. She takes a section of hair in one hand, and with the other, places one of the strips, which is much longer than the hair, beside it, then wraps the lock of hair round the strip in a spiral. Once the entire length of the hair has been coiled around, Gwen holds it in place with one hand, while with the other, she wraps the remaining length of fabric around the hair, working from the bottom up this time, until the hair is completely covered, then ties the two ends of the strips together, securing the hair inside. She repeats this process until all your hair is secured.

“While you sleep tonight, your hair shall dry and set into the curls,” Gwen says, looking at you through the mirror, a hand on your shoulder. “Take them out tomorrow and see. It might look silly at first, as they will require a fair bit of brushing, but I think you will like the result,”

You reach up and rest your hand over Gwen’s. “Thank you for this,”

“You are welcome,” She smiles. “I shall leave you to enjoy the rest of your night. I might stop by tomorrow to see how our little experiment has gone,”

~

After breakfast the next morning, you return to the mirror and remove the rags from your hair, revealing tight ringlets. You are alarmed at first, but remember what Gwen said about brushing, so you pick up your hairbrush from beside the basin and begin working on your hair. At first, the curls seem to just bounce back to exactly how they were once the brush has run through them, but after a time, you notice them begin to soften.

After about fifteen minutes of continuous brushing, the hair has taken on some kind of style. You put down the brush and turn your head side to side, inspecting yourself in the mirror. You still look odd compared to other women about the castle, but… perhaps you could be seen like this?

You rush from your bedchamber and grab your unfinished gown, returning to hold it in front of you before the mirror. With a little squinting and imagination, you envision the final look and think it may just work. You leave your bedchamber again, gown draped over one arm, with a renewed vigour for sewing, when there’s a knock at your door. Placing the gown down, you move to answer it, before remembering your hair and stopping in your tracks.

“Who is it?” You call out.

“It’s Gwen,” A voice says from the other side of the door.

You continue to the door and open it, Gwen gasping when she sees you.

“(Y/N), that looks lovely!”

You grin and show her inside, closing the door behind her.

“I just came by to see how it went, but I can see right away that it’s gone very well!” She beams.

“You think so?”

“I do!”

“So, you think I could go to the feast like this?”

“(Y/N), you can go to the feast however you like. I know you are afraid of being different, but different doesn’t mean bad. I don’t believe anyone there will think poorly of you. If anything, they will be intrigued by your unique beauty,”

You chuckle. “I’m not so sure about that,”

A thought occurs to you and in an instant, your newfound excitement dissipates. There could be someone there who thinks very poorly of you.

“Will Gwaine’s sister be at the feast?” You ask.

Gwen frowns. “The nobility are invited, so I suppose she will be,”

“I can’t possibly go if she is going to be there,” You shake your head and begin to pace.

“I’m sure you will still have a good time,”

“I don’t think I could have a good time with her there. I wouldn’t be able to ignore her, I’d be waiting for her to say something unkind, or do something. Who knows, she might purposely spill her wine on my gown or something,”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I wish I could tell her she can’t attend, but I’m afraid I cannot,” Gwen purses her lips thoughtfully. “Perhaps I could engage her in conversation for the whole evening, so she won’t have the chance to do or say anything to you,”

You cease your pacing. “But then your night would be unpleasant,”

Gwen shrugs. “I have gotten rather good at talking to people I don’t like since becoming queen,”

“I don’t know,” You sigh. “That is a kind offer Gwen, thank you, but I think I should work this out myself,”

“Alright, but please don’t let the prospect of Erika being there quell your excitement. Your hair is going to look beautiful, and I can already tell that your gown is going to be stunning. Not to mention, you’ll be going with Sir Gwaine. He’s known for being lots of fun, not to mention the fact that he adores you. Everything will work out,” Gwen smiles and gives your arm a reassuring squeeze. “But if you are still feeling apprehensive, please talk to Gwaine about it. Don’t keep your feelings to yourself, alright?”

“Alright,” You nod. “I will speak with him today,”

“Good,” Gwen smiles. “I shall leave you to it,”

~

After working on your gown for another two hours or so, you leave your chambers to see Gwaine.

You reach his door, raising your hand to knock, but falter. You shouldn’t bother him with this. It’s your issue, so you should work it out for yourself. Besides, what do you expect him to do? You lower your hand and turn around, taking a few steps back the way you came, when you hear a door unlatch and someone call your name. You turn around to see Gwaine standing at his chamber door.

“Is everything alright?” He asks.

“Yes, I’m fine,” You force a smile.

Upon hearing approaching footsteps, you turn to see Sir Elyan striding down the corridor. He nods in your direction and smiles.

“Good day, (Y/N),” He says, before disappearing into presumably his own chambers.

Gwaine steps out into the corridor, dressed very casually in his grey tunic and trousers, with only socks covering his feet, and closes the gap between you.

“If there’s something on your mind, I’m happy to hear it,” He offers.

The sound of approaching chatter has you turn around again to see Sirs Leon and Percival appear at the end of the corridor. They incline their heads in your direction as they advance, as Sir Elyan did.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” Leon says kindly.

His hair is damp, some of his curls sticking to his sweaty forehead. They must have just come back from training.

“I hope you’re well?” Percival says from beside Leon, with a grin, his gaze flicking between you and Gwaine beside you.

“I am well, thank you,” You reply.

Gwaine grimaces and watches his comrades until they enter their respective chambers, before addressing you again.

“Would you like to come inside?” He takes a step back toward his chamber door. “Then we might have some privacy,” His eyes flick to the entrances to the other knights’ rooms.

You nod and follow him inside, where he invites you to sit at the table. You take a seat and he closes the door before sitting down across from you.

“I shouldn’t bother you with it,” You say quietly.

“(Y/N),” Gwaine smiles sadly. “You never have, and never could, bother me. What’s the matter?”

You sigh. “I just realised today that… well, it hadn’t occurred to me that Erika would be at the harvest feast,”

“Ah,” Gwaine crosses his arms. “I spoke with her today,”

“You did? What about?”

“Just… everything you and I spoke of. I suppose I wanted to confront her, but also try to understand why she did what she did,”

“I see,”

“I needn’t speak of it,” Gwaine shakes his head.

“No… I would like to know what she had to say for herself,”

“Alright,” Gwaine straightens in his chair. “It turns out she’s been bitter all these years about me leaving home when I did. She felt I left her to fend for herself, while I had an easy escape. She’s been cruel to you because you make me happy and she thinks I don’t deserve to be happy. She came to Camelot to try to find a place for herself here. Supposedly none of the men back home are good enough for her,”

“When I overheard her in the courtiers’ wing, her companion mentioned something about Erika’s ‘quest’, and Erika replied, saying something about someone falling in love with her,”

Gwaine nods. “She’s been speaking to the other knights, clearly trying to gain their favour. Leon, Percival and Elyan have all had her approach them. They’ve all managed to shrug her off, though she was quite persistent for a time,”

“So, she was hoping to secure one of the knights and what, get married and live in Camelot? What about your mother?”

“If Erika was to settle here, I would see about finding a place for my mother as well. That is if she’d even want to live here,”

“Why wouldn’t she? Isn’t she in, please excuse the term, a reduced position?”

“Not so much anymore,”

You raise your brows in question.

“Since I became a knight,” Gwaine continues. “I’ve been sending her a portion of my wages in an attempt to better her and Erika’s circumstances,”

“And still Erika treats you so poorly?”

Gwaine shrugs. You reach a hand across the table and he places one of his own around it.

“Sending part of my wages was the least I could do after I ran away. There was no money being sent to them then,”

“You mustn’t punish yourself for your past mistakes, especially since you are doing what you can now,”

“You are kind to say so,” He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “Anyway, back to the matter at hand: Erika being at the feast,”

“Do you think she’ll behave, now that you’ve spoken to her?”

Gwaine sighs, running a hand over his chin. “I don’t know. She never actually said she was sorry,”

“Oh,” Your heart sinks.

“I’ll work something out,” He strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “I won’t let anyone spoil our night,”

~

Gwaine waits beside the courtyard steps, greeting his fellow knights as they approach, chests heaving and brows sweaty from their afternoon training.

“Enjoy your respite while you can, Gwaine,” Percival grins, giving Gwaine a playful slap on the shoulder as he passes.

About a quarter of an hour goes by, and the man he’s been waiting for comes into view, a bundle of swords and shields slung over his back.

“Merlin!” Gwaine calls out as he crosses the courtyard to meet his friend. “Let me help you with that,”

“You shouldn’t, it could aggravate your injury,” Merlin says in a strained voice.

“I think I can manage carrying a few swords,” Gwaine says, already taking some from Merlin’s bundle.

Merlin nods in thanks and keeps walking.

“Everything alright?” He asks as they climb the courtyard steps.

“Yes and no,” Gwaine replies. “(Y/N) is going to the feast with me,”

“I heard,” Merlin grins. “I’m glad you two were able to sort things out,”

Gwaine smiles. “Me too. There is a problem though. My sister is going to be there and it’s making (Y/N) anxious. Honestly, it’s making me anxious too,”

“You’re worried she’ll try to ruin yours and (Y/N)’s night?” Merlin asks, stepping inside the castle and turning down a passage.

“I am,”

“What are you going to do?”

“I wondered if you, being the physician’s apprentice, might know of something that could… prevent Erika from attending,”

Merlin stops in his tracks. “What, like poison?” He says in an alarmed whisper.

“No! Who do you think I am, Merlin?” Gwaine shakes his head, wide-eyed. “I mean something that might make her a bit… unwell, or unsightly, so she won’t want to be seen in public,”

Merlin purses his lips thoughtfully. “Leave it to me,”

[lukin08]

Up In The Air Chapter 4

Kristanna Modern AU

Rated T

WC: 2740

Also available on AO3

Previous Chapter

Anna had to admit she was having fun.  She sang karaoke twice, something she had never done before.  Then she cheered on several of the doctors as well.  The group was lost in their little world enjoying themselves and not caring if the whole scene was cheesy or not.  She also had a slight buzz going on.  It wasn’t anything crazy and she thought another round was in store.  

After taking orders, Anna made her way to the bar, glad that she had stayed with group all night instead of listening to Sue.  She didn’t have the time or desire to force herself to hit on some random guy at bar.  He didn’t ask for that and she probably would just have annoyed him anyway with her horrible ability to flirt.  Plus, if he had noticed her, nothing was stopping him from coming up and talking to her and that clearly had not happened. 

It didn’t matter anyway.  At some point, she noticed the table they were at was filled with new people.  He was gone.  Although, she did catch the brown haired one leave alone.  Anna assumed she just missed seeing the blond walk out.

Luckily, there was an opening at the bar and Anna was able to get her order in quickly.  She looked down at the glasses and bottles and realized she may have been a little overzealous in thinking she could carry all the drinks back.  Only one way to find out.  Several beer bottles fit snug between her arm and torso while she picked up three glasses, holding them like a triangle between her hands  It would be a balancing act the whole way back and Anna wasn’t exactly known for her grace.  She turned away from the bar, looked toward the table when she thought she heard her name and took a step.

She was stopped short, making a sudden impact with something solid and knocking her a step back.  It happened so fast, Anna was surprised she managed to stop from falling to the floor, square on her butt.  Somehow the bottles had stayed tucked in her arm, but the glasses weren’t as fortunate.  

“What the- “

Horror washed over her when she registered it wasn’t something she ran into, but someone.  She looked up and was met by a clenched jaw and cold, sharp eyes.  Anna jumped back, letting out a squeak when realized who she had slammed into.  Out of all the people in the bar, she had to run into the one she was ogling earlier with Sue and Camila.  Guess he hadn’t left after all.

His eyebrows were lowered and pulled close together.  “Did you even look where you were going?”

Anna slowly looked down from his eyes and saw his shirt was soaked.  Her brain clicked into triage mode.  “Oh no.  Oh no, no, no, no, no.”  She ran over to the bar, dumped the bottles on the counter and frantically grabbed two fistfuls of napkins.  Anna was back at him in a second patting the napkins on his shirt furiously and trying not to notice how solid he felt.  “I am so sorry!  I am.  I should have been paying attention, but I got distracted and… I’m just really, really, really sorry.”  She was going through the napkins at a breakneck speed.  “I am so clumsy.  Sorry.”  Anna was rambling now, but she couldn’t stop her mouth from moving.  “My dad used to say when I was a kid that my special talents were tripping over my own feet, falling off chairs and running into things.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry again.  Oh jeez, where are the glasses?  I didn’t cut you, did I?  Are you bleeding?”  She pulled at his shirt looking for signs of blood.

“Hey.” A hand came down on Anna’s arm, forcing her to still.  She looked up again.   His eyes were still sharply focused, but there was a hint of warmth behind them now; almost a slight amusement to them.  “Take a breath, ok?”

Anna nodded and inhaled slowly.  Then it all rushed to her on how near she was to him, her hands pressed against his frame and entirely too close to be appropriate.  She stepped back quickly.  “Sorry!” fell out of her mouth again as she thrust the wad of half damp napkins towards him.

“Thanks,” he said slowly taking the napkins from her.  He took a long gaze at her, his face relaxing.  Anna stared as he pulled his shirt out pressing the fabric to the napkins.  “At least I have a dark shirt on.”

“The drinks were clear.  And hopefully not too sticky.  I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

The man flicked his eyes up from his focus on his shirt.  There was a hint of amusement on his face.  “I think it would take a little more than that to do any damage.”

“I meant, are you cut?”

“No.”

That caused her to urgently scan the floor in earnest for any shards.  “The glasses!  Are they everywhere?”  She crouched down quickly, the blond following her.  “The last thing we need is someone getting their foot cut on a shard.  You have no idea how easily it is to get an infection from cut glass like this.”

“Be careful.  I’ll get a broom.”

“No wait.  Ah ha!”  Anna found all three quickly and help one up triumphantly.  “They didn’t break!”  She took a good look at one.  “That was impressive.  What brand are these?”

“I’ve got those.”  He easily plucked the glasses from her hands, slotting them between his fingers in one hand to hold.  Anna stood up with him, noticing him pick up a box from the floor and hold in it in his other hand.  She followed him as he walked over to the bar.  

“Craig!”

A slightly older gentleman walked over.  Anna watched as the man next to her put the glasses down then take the box in both hands and lift it over the bar.”

“Jesus, Kris!  Give an old man some warning.” Craig said as he took the box, clearly struggling a little with the weight of it.  “Couldn’t you have walked this around the bar?”

“Faster this way.  That’s the last case of Yachtside I could find in the back.”

Craig let out a whistle.  “We are really flying through things tonight.  Thanks for the help, bud.”

“Sure.”

Anna was staring at the beer bottles trying to remember what everyone ordered, when she noticed he had turned to face her. 

“Are you ok?”

“If you exclude my embarrassment, I’m fine.  I’ll just have to order another round.  Shit that cost a lot.  Guess that’s what I deserve.”

“Hold on a second.”

Anna watched as the man next to her called the bartender over again.  In no time she had a fresh set of drinks.

“I made these doubles for the wait,” Craig said setting down the drinks.

Anna went to hand him her card, when he waived her off.  “No charge.”

“Are you sure?  

“No sense of paying for drinks you didn’t get to enjoy.  Plus, Kris asked nicely.” He smiled and winked at her.

Anna looked over to the man next to her.  His face had softened.  He was even better looking now than she had seen from afar.  “Thank you.  You didn’t have to do that.”

“Not a problem.”

“Now I have to figure out how to get all these moved without dropping them a second time.”

“Keep your head up this time.  Or better yet-“ He raised his arm and a waitress was over a minute later, putting all the bottles and glasses on a tray and whisking them over to the group.

“That was a much better idea!  Thank you.  And I’m sorry again.”

“Consider it forgotten.”

He stood there, leaning against the bar just watching her.  Anna had to be careful, or she could get lost in those eyes she felt boring into her as if he was trying to figure something out.  She looked down, fiddling with her glass before taking a sip of her drink.  “How is it you were sitting at the table earlier and now you’re carrying cases of beer around?”

His raised an eyebrow.  “You were watching me earlier?”

Anna’s cheeks flared red, but she flashed him a flirty smile.  “Just being observant.”

He chuckled, looking down then catching her eyes again. “It’s my uncle’s bar.  They’re short staffed tonight, so I stayed to help for a bit after my friend left.

Anna rested her elbow on the bar top, her head leaning in her hand.  “That was nice of you.  So, Chris, is it?”

He nodded. 

“Is that short for something?”

“Just Kris for now.  And it’s with a K.”

“Ooh intriguing.”

***************

Anna went back to the group, but she found herself drawn back to the bar, talking to Kris whenever he came back from whatever task he assigned himself to help out.  Eventually, they found themselves sitting on the bar stools, in conversation about nothing in particular. 

At some point Sue came over to say goodbye.  “Remember, you’re here to start over, not become a nun,” she whispered in Anna’s ear.  

He gave Anna a look when her face flushed red.  Then she had to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh, when Sue turned around, walking backwards towards the door, giving Anna two thumbs up.  Kris turned to look behind him, but Sue was already out the door.

“Something funny?” he asked, his attention back on Anna.

“No.”  Anna put her hand on top of his that was on the bar top.  “I’m just having a good time tonight.”  The smile he gave her, made Anna’s stomach flutter.

***************

The group dispersed, one by one, some finding Anna to say goodbye.  Anna was floating on a high.  Her whole body felt warm and cozy.  

“Is that a band?” She asked, looking at the back of the bar.

“It appears to be.  They should be set up soon.”

 “Ooh exciting!”  Anna turned back to Kris.  “I hope they are good and play something you can dance to.”

“You like live music?” He asked. 

 “Not sure.”

His eyes crinkled with an amused look.  “How can you not be sure?”

“Don’t know yet.  It depends on the band.”

“Are you sure of anything?”

Anna leaned forward.  It was nowhere near as seductive as she had in her head, but it would have to do.  “I’m sure I could get you to dance.” 

****************

Everything seemed to be twenty times as exciting as it was an hour ago.  It had taken Anna awhile to convince Camila she was ok on her own.  Yes, she promised to call when she was leaving and yes, of course she’d take an Uber, and yes, she’d call in the morning as well no matter where she ended up.  Anna was fine and Camila needed to stop treating her like a child.   Ok. Anna maybe had one or two drinks more than she probably should have, but she was good at hiding it.  She was twenty-nine and perfectly capable of taking care of herself thank you very much.  She wasn’t that naïve girl anymore that she had been in college.

The band was playing her favorite song and Anna was signing along, sipping on her drink whenever her brain came up short with remembering some of the lyrics.

He was smiling and laughing with her, and she desperately needed to kiss him.

Then she was.  Anna was floating on a high at how amazing it was.  Sue’s parting words drifted in her head, and she could only think of one thing. 

More.

***************

Everything was spiraling around Anna.  She was trying to focus on what happened, but her thoughts were foggy and blinded from her rage.  Everything was going so well, then… just crumbled away.  When Anna suggested they go to his place, he deflected.  She didn’t stop, sure it wouldn’t take much convincing on his part.

It was only the smallest slurring of her words, but his hands dropped from her as soon as he heard it and he stepped away.

“I don’t do one-night stands,” he said coolly.

The rejection stun.  Something in her gut churned at the thought of her throwing herself at him only to be told she wasn’t good enough.  Had she ever been to anyone?  When she looked up at him, pity and judgement was all over his face.  It was the same look she had seen from her sister when they were younger, and Anna saw red.

***************

“Stop following me!  I don’t need a babysitter!”  Anna spit her words out as hard as she could.  She looked behind her tripping and nearly falling to the blacktop in the process.

“Not until you give me the FOB to your car.”

“Fat chance.”  Anna hit the button in her hand unlocking her car.

Kris was right behind her.  “If you try to drive, you’re going to have to run me over to get out of the parking lot.”

“Tempting.” Anna wrenched the door open, but he wouldn’t go away.  “For Pete’s Sake.  Here.  Catch!”  She threw the FOB with her keys as far as she could.

He had to duck out of the way as they flew past his head.  “Oh, come on!”

She hopped in the car, knees on the driver side seat, while she dived to the floor of the passenger side searching.  Anna’s diversion of throwing her keys didn’t last long.

“Anna…” Kris was right next to the car.  She could hear the exasperation in his voice.  “What are you doing?”

“What does it matter?”

“I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why do you care anyway?”

“What?”

Anna ignored him.  “Yes!” she exclaimed and sat up holding up her phone.  Anna jumped out of the car and slammed the door, almost losing her balance and falling again.  “See.  Told you I wasn’t gonna drive.  Now give me my stuff back.”

Kris dropped the keys in Anna’s hand when she held out her hand for them.  She looked down and fumed.  “The FOB too.”

He was already walking away.  “No way.”  Anna followed him when he held up the FOB and she heard the door look.

“Give ’em back!”

“Get an Uber, call a friend.  I don’t care.  But you aren’t getting this back until then.”

“I told you; I’m not driving.  Why won’t you give them to me?”

“I was working here tonight and am responsible for your wellbeing.  And that includes making sure you don’t get in that car tonight.”

Anna’s hands balled up into fists.  “You are such an asshole!”

Kris barked out a laughed.  “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

She fumbled with her phone, trying to pull up the Uber app.  There was no way she was calling Camila now.  Everything from the night started crashing on Anna.  She forced her anger to keep her tears at bay.

“Please stop pretending like you care.  What was your angle anyway tonight?  Just to have a little fun and kick me aside?”

He stopped on the sidewalk and turned to face her.  “I – “

Anna held out her hand cutting him off.  “You know what?  Nevermind. I don’t need to know.”

Kris’s mouth drew a hard line.  “Guess you never will then.”

“Don’t care.”  She held her phone out.  “Look.  The car is 5 minutes away.  I’m being good.  Can I have my FOB back, pretty please?”  

“Sure.  Tomorrow.”

“Wait, what?”

“There will be someone here by 10.  Just knock on the door.”

He was already walking back inside.  Anna’s frustration boiled over.  “Ooh, you are… you’re…such an ass!”

“An ass that doesn’t trust your judgement!  And you told me that already!”

Anna stood there fuming, not bothering to follow him into the bar.  She sank to the curb and buried her head in hands, desperately trying not to cry.  

Kristoff walked into the bar and watched out a side window until a car pulled up and Anna got in it.  He went to the back of the bar and tossed the FOB in a jar.  

Kristoff’s uncle came from the kitchen and slapped him on the shoulder.  “Thanks for the help tonight, bud.  You stayed late.  Fun night for you?” 

He could see the look in his uncle’s eyes.  Kristoff grabbed his keys from a back cabinet and went to walk out.  “Not the words I would use.”

[chrimsonfoxdon]

Would you be willing to rank the konoha 12 from worst to best?

Actually yes I would LMAO!! I assume you mean like… my own personal favorites between the konoha 12, rather than something like which I think are the strongest.

I do wanna also state that I don’t hate or dislike any of the konoha 12, in fact I kinda like them all?? So please don’t think that I don’t like the lower rated characters. But if I have to rank them, from least favorite to most favorite… (list under the cut!)

12. Shino Aburame

(Sorry tumblr limits me to only 10 images so the lower ranked ones aren’t getting pics I’m sorry)

I… I just don’t really feel that attached to him?? I’m sorry 🫠 his insect and bug abilities can be pretty neat tho.

11. Kiba Inuzuka

It’s kinda a similar thing as Shino. Just not that attached to him as I am to other characters. He does have a dog though, which is almost always a positive point for me not gonna lie.

10. Ino Yamanaka

She also just doesn’t leave much of an impression on me in general. I’m kinda sad that her jutsu is just… kinda lacking?? BUT she seems like she’d be a good friend and fun to hang out with. Also she’s pretty.

9. Sasuke Uchiha

Fun fact when I first started watching Naruto he was my favorite during the land of waves arc! But then we saw Team Gai and the way I threw him to the side SO FAST 😭😂 I do still kinda think he’s a jerk for abandoning all the people who care about him for power. Is it because I take the Sasuke retrieval arc personally?? Maybe. BUT he was right about the konoha elders. In general I just find him very fun to bully. But I GUESS he’s strong and such…

8. Naruto Uzumaki

He’s the main character so I feel like he just gets points with us just being exposed to him the most in the series. I do find it kinda harder to like… I don’t know, be attached to him the farther in Shippuden we get. I guess it’s cuz of the constant power creep, but that’s more of a shonen issue than anything to me. Rewatching the series as an adult, his backstory definitely breaks my heart 🥺 poor kid just wants to be loved and doesn’t understand why the village hates him. It’s hard not to root for him honestly. I cried when he became hokage even though I wasn’t watching the series at the time I can’t lie.

7. Sakura Haruno

I used to not like her much, but that’s cuz Kishi can’t write women let’s be honest. I’ll always be super impressed with her growth as a ninja herself, particularly as a medical ninja. The Kazekage Rescue Arc really shows how amazing she can be and what she’s capable of. I loved her fight with Sasori. I also relate to her constantly wanting to catch up to her teammates and just feeling like dead weight. Girlie I love you and you deserve happiness 💖

6. Hinata Hyuga

SHE’S A SWEET GIRL SHE’S DOING HER BEST SHE’S TRYING TO FIND HER PLACE IN THE WORLD AND I!!! SUPPORT THIS GIRL!!! She’s also super cute with one of the best designs in the series. Her fighting Pain is so emotional like. She’s risking her life for the guy she loves and admires most in the world. I gotta give her props for that. She’s not the strongest obviously, but I do enjoy her character a lot.

5. Shikamaru Nara

My brother’s favorite, so I feel a lot of secondhand happiness about Shikamaru!! His shadow jutsu is… well, basic, but very versatile (I kinda wish ino’s jutsu got a similar treatment). His strategies make him a really fun character to watch from start to finish. His arc with Hidan was so cool. Very good character in my opinion.

4. Choji Akamichi

Ok so not gonna lie he’d probably rank lower on my list when I was younger, but again, rewatching as an adult I just love the guy!! He’s such a kind soul and works to protect his friends. His backstory also just kinda speaks to me as a kid who was often excluded from activities with my peers (sometimes also cuz of my size). I’m so glad he found shikamaru and is best friends with him. He deserves so much love. He’s a good lad!

3. Rock Lee

GODDDDDDD HIS CHARACTER IS SO GOOOOOOOOOODDDDD!!! I remember liking him even as a kid, but now that I’m older, it’s just amplified. To see someone with uh… no natural talent whatsoever get so far as a shinobi is just so satisfying to see, especially since I can relate nowadays. If anything, seeing him struggle and still fight for what he believes in has made a bigger impact on me now than when I was younger. I REALLY wish he had more fights though. Fights where he won mainly on his own. Also his fight with Gaara in the chunin exams is ICONIC YOU CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND THE WEIGHT SCENE CHANGED MY 9-YEAR-OLD BRAIN CHEMISTRY!!!

2. Tenten

I!!! LOVE!!! THIS!!!! GIRL!!!! AAAAAAAAA!!!!! There’s just something about how her strategy is to overwhelm her opponents with so many powerful ninja weapons that just… speaks to me. Her design is cute, I find her personality fun, and she’s my favorite female Naruto character. I wanna be her friend so bad. Also her journey in letting go of a childhood dream just… HMMMMM SPEAKS TO MEEEEEE as a very depressed adult. She makes me smile and laugh and cry and I just want her to know how amazing and special she is. She’s… a 10/10 😎

1. Neji Hyuga

WOOOW OMG WHAT A SHOCK RIGHT??? Man what can I say about Neji that I haven’t already. He just really awakened something in me way back in the day, and he still occupies my mind to this day. I think there’s just something about seeing a character suffering quietly for so long and taking it out on others (and himself) grow into a person who tries to better himself and look more so on the bright side of life, despite what life has thrown at him. (Again that’s kinda something that means more to me as an adult than when I was a kid) he deserves so much love and happiness and I am so proud of him Neji Hyuga I love you so much

[deada55]

Kloktober 2024, day 12: tattoos or piercings

Another steamy little diddy from Being There.

Rating: Teen and Up

“Don’t be shy.”

She kicked the hot tub cover into a pile on her deck as the jets started to blow. Then, she peeled off her shirt and was left only in her panties. She always wore her hair in neat, light brown Dutch braids, didn’t she? The tails made her scapulae look sculpted and soft. She giggled,

”Need me to show you how?”

If not for the couple shots he took in his car before he turned onto her street, he would have been scared as hell. He hummed and got clumsy with his belt.

She mimed pulling a rope while he settled down beside her, their beers in hand. When he handed hers over, she raised it, “Cheers!”

”Cheers.”

Clink.

She sighed. “I’m glad you could come over. I don’t think my parents are coming back tonight.” Moths drew closer to the light on the underside of the roof above them, even though they were slapped now and again by a ceiling fan dragged by a trapped breeze. She shivered and lifted his arm over her like a blanket.

”Y’know, Nathan… I think you’re the best kind of person I could have met right now. I don’t know what I want to do in life, but you…” She lost her train of thought and raised her head. “I just feel better when you’re around. I bet you have everything figured out.”

He looked to the corner of the deck at a cockroach spinning in circles at the edge of the light.

”You really are different from what I expected.” She slid over and straddled his lap before he could be angry with her, but he had the same expression as always. She smoothed back his hair with her fingers.

”And your eyes are prettier with your hair out of your face.”

Her lips were so soft. At one point, she leaned forward and put her elbows on the backrest behind his head, over either of his shoulders. With him slouched under her and her carefully poised just above him, they both shook a little from the social pressure of such intimate positioning. It was one thing to hook up, it was another to enjoy someone’s company. Mandy was nearly aching.

She parted, and it felt like tearing herself away. “I want to go to bed.” The jets roared. Her ears burned. “You should come, too.”

He watched her get out first. Three blue stars on her lower back stood out from cheerful stippling, lighthearted and begging to be seen. While her back was still turned, he got out and was relieved that he shrank back a little bit, so that the towel she passed him wouldn’t be stuck on a peg.

[blossom-hwa]

OMG AAHHH I saw your detailed rizz analysis post and I must say… Y’all really blew my mind cause I do see why you rated the idols as such HAHAHAHA I was specially laughing in agreement at the Soob, Hwa, and Bermuda line ones~ Vernon makes soooo much sense too HAHAHA And I guess your Yunho rizz analysis explains why I’m so head over heels attracted to the man! Oh and I agree soooo much with the Changbin one too HAHAHA I saw you mention Wonho during his analysis and I agree HAHAHA But that made me really curious for Wonho and MONSTA X rizz analysis :((( If it’s not too much of a trouble for y’all, would you mind analysing them too?? Or I guess who do you think is rizzless and the one with most rizz??

hey anon! glad you enjoyed the rizz post :) to be honest I'm not too familiar with monsta x/wonho anymore (not for any particular reason just changing interests), but I'll do a quick sentence or two with my main impressions below! hope you like it <3

original rizz analysis

shownu: positive and high magnitude though not quite infinity. kinda similar to yunho? in that they are both large and soft and have insane charisma but iirc shownu has a thinly veiled thing for being dominated (or is he the one dominating icr) that parallels yunho's thinly veiled thing for feet. hence the similarities and hence the not-positive-infinity level rizz

wonho: fluctuates between +5 and -5. I did say he's very similar to changbin. buff boys. stronk. much strength. except they're also very sweet losers hence the dipping into the negatives. I gave him slightly lower magnitudes than changbin, I don't know why this is the instinct but I mean at least his negative rizz is lower magnitude than changbin's so there's that

minhyuk: low. very negative. EXTREMELY negative. iirc he's very much the puppy type and he reminds me a little too much of hyunjae. he's very aware of the fact that he has next to zero rizz and he WILL use that against you so watch out for the puppy eyes. it doesn't matter in the end though you'll fall victim to them anyway

kihyun: -15. I feel like I've been influenced by this one twt account that I follow bc they love kihyun and are also obsessed with pathetic men so by extension kihyun is pathetic and is down in the negatives. not super high magnitude at least which he should honestly thank me and his hyeya performance for. I was going to give him -1 but then I realized he'd be dangerously close to rizz neutral and that is not happening this man is not neutral on ANYTHING

hyungwon: ooooooooo this is so hard but I'm going to give him -10. he's kinda like chanhee. knows what rizz is. understands his rizz level is in the negatives. does not give two fucks. this gives the impression that he has positive levels of rizz since he doesn't care but be not fooled dear reader he's just a dying victorian child in the guise of a limp noodle dragging himself around the stage. pray for him

(I think kihyun would probably kill me if he knew his rizz levels were under hyungwon's please don't let this get past him)

joohoney: FUCK BRO THIS IS SO HARD. I give him +20. he has so much charisma as an idol it's insane. I watched some of pdx101 (I think this is where it's from) and every time I remember the BAKSU bit I flip flop between convulsing on the floor with laughter and wanting to watch if 15 more times. therefore he gets positive rizz except it's limited by his aegyo. sorry I can't watch that more than 0.1 times before I cringe into oblivion

i.m.: same suit as jangjun and co. he's so alien his rizz is like undefinable. started off with positive infinity magnitude, then it got too high so it like... collapsed in on itself and got converted into whatever the fuck it is now. I couldn't tell you what it is. he's so weird. he holds too much power. I love him very much

[strawwritesfic]

Ryohei Sasagawa x Female!Reader: Cootie Catcher [Ch. 3]

Summary: You liked it better in the old days, when boys had cooties and didn’t talk to you.

Challenge: “What to do, oh, What to do?” by crimsonxtearx5 on Lunaescence Archives.

Ratings/Warnings/Tags: T (Friends to lovers; idiots to lovers; childhood friends; happily blended family; embarrassing parents; civilian!reader; bookworm!reader; opposites attract; Namimori Middle School; TYB!KHR Cast; no honorifics; boxing club; tutoring; Seven Minutes in Heaven; birthday party; mild language)

Relationships: Ryohei Sasagawa/Reader; Original Character/Original Character; Kyoko Sasagawa & Reader; Ryohei Sasgawa & Kyoko Sasgawa; Tsuna Sawada & Hayato Gokudera & Takeshi Yamamoto; Hibari Kyoya & Reader; Hibrari Kyoya & Ryohei Sasagawa; Kyoko Sasagawa/Tsuna Sawada/Haru Miura

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Master List

Chapter 3: Should Have Lost the Invitation

As you walked up the familiar path that led to the Sasagawa house, butterflies nipped your insides. They did not seem to care how many times you’d been to visit Ryohei over the course of your lifetime. Merely pressing the doorbell sent them into such a frenzy that you nearly turned around and sprinted away. You planted your feet in an effort to resist the temptation. Did you really want to ruin Ryohei’s birthday party over something like random nausea? Thankfully, you were able to fix a smile on your face before anyone came to let you inside.

“[Name]! You made it!” said the person that did, a younger girl with honey-colored hair, matching eyes, and a smile as bright as her older brother’s.

“Hi, Kyoko,” you said as she stepped aside to let you cross the threshold. “How are you?”

“I’m fantastic! And Big Brother will be so glad that you came.”

She waited until you had taken your shoes off, then gestured for you to follow her down the hallway. You did.

“Did he really think I’d miss his party?”

“He just said you’ve been extremely busy lately. Something about Hibari roping you into after-school tutoring? I think Tsuna said the same thing.”

“Well, yeah, but I wouldn’t prioritize Hibari over Ryohei.”

Kyoko peeked over her shoulder at you, then smiled at you in such a way that suggested she knew exactly what you were thinking about. You hoped she didn’t. “Big Brother knows that.”

The butterflies bit harder. In the hopes of hiding your reaction to this, you pulled the gift bag you’d brought along high enough to hide your burning cheeks behind the tissue paper. Thankfully, you were spared thinking of a natural segue to this statement by the sound of loud conversation coming from a nearby room. This startled you enough to get you to lower your shield. In previous years, Ryohei’s parties had included you, his sister, and his parents, but you heard a lot more voices than that in the roar.

“Big Brother! [Name] is here!” Kyoko called.

You caught only a quick glimpse of the Sasagawas’ living room and the many underclassmen inside it before your vision got blocked by a very large, very bright grin.

“[Name]! You made it!”

You would have recognized that delighted roar anywhere, but you were given no time to respond to it. Ryohei’s well-defined arms (what were you thinking?!) wrapped around you, squeezed, and lifted you into the air.

“Ry-Ryohei!” you stuttered.

Yes, stuttered. First the nerves, now this? Something had to be seriously wrong with you. Or maybe, you mused with your face smashed into your friend’s chest, something was wrong with him. Yes. That had to be it. All the weird things you’d been feeling lately were Ryohei’s fault. And continuing to let him hug you like this would only make things worse.

“Can you put me back on the ground, please?” you asked in a muffled voice.

“Oh!” You found yourself back on your own two feet in a flash. “Sorry.

“It’s fine. Happy birthday, Ryohei.”

Your second attempt to hide behind your slightly-crushed bag did not succeed as well as your first. Ryohei took it from you with a loud “Thanks,” then dropped it into a nearby pile of similarly-festive boxes and gift bags. Now you were even more exposed in front of a group of people you didn’t know—well, mostly.

“Hey, senpai! I didn’t know you and Ryohei were friends,” said the tallest of the bunch. Of course. Even your tutoring students had to see you in such an embarrassing embrace.

And it didn’t end there. Ryohei threw one arm around your shoulder, and used his other to give you a noogie. Since you couldn’t wiggle out of his grasp without looking even dumber than you already did, you had to grin and bear it as he said, “[Name] is my best friend to the extreme!”

“Hello, Yamamoto,” you said. “Did you finish your homework?”

“Sure thing! I’m doing much better now. I just have to remember to pay attention!”

“[Name]’s extremely good at classwork!” Ryohei put in.

“I can tell!”

“Sawada!” Ryohei barked at a second familiar boy. “This is [F Name] [L Name]!”

“I know.” Somehow, Sawada looked about as uncomfortable as you felt. “She tutors me, too.”

“And you’re doing your homework as well, Sawada?” you asked weakly.

The question only seemed to make the boy more miserable. “Reborn would literally kill me if I didn’t.”

Who? “Okay. Good.”

“Haru is here, too!” The dark-haired girl sitting next to Tsuna waved at you. At least you knew her from somewhere other than Hibari’s required tutoring sessions. But why had all of Kyoko’s friends turned up for Ryohei’s birthday party?

“So we all know each other!” Ryohei shouted.

“I’ve never been to after-school tutoring in my life,” snapped the last boy in the room, this one with long silver hair. This was true, but you thought you knew him by reputation.

Ryohei finally stopped clamping you to his side so that he could brush away the other boy’s concern. “Yeah, well, you heard her name.”

“And that’s supposed to count as an introduction?”

"If it matters that much to you, introduce yourself!”

“I never said it mattered to me.”

“Fine. [Name]. this idiot is Hayato Gokudera. You can just call him Octopus Head.”

“Hey!”

“Pleased to meet you, Gokudera," you said.

“Whatever.” Gokudera didn’t spare you another glance. Glaring at Ryohei, he downed another mouthful of soda. “This is a pretty shitty party, Turf Top. What do you expect us to do? Talk to each other?”

“Haru and I made cake,” Kyoko offered.

This did not appear to impress Gokudera in the slightest. “Cake. Wow. Since there’s no sushi, I can only call this the second shittiest party I’ve been to.”

“Oh, Haru loved the party at Takesushi!” said Haru.

“No one asked you!”

As the two of them quarreled (which must have been a common occurrence, because no one else paid the argument much attention), you watched Ryohei. His expression grew darker and darker and darker—until he punched the air with a triumphant whoop.

“I’ve got it! We’ll play some extreme party games!” he said.

Gokudera and Haru fell silent. Neither they nor anyone else spoke until the first said impatiently:

“Games like what?”

That stopped Ryohei’s enthusiasm cold.

“Oh! Oh! Haru knows!” Once she had everyone’s attention, she blushed, looked down, and pressed her fingers into her pink cheeks, “We should all play Seven Minute in Heaven.”

Again, Gokudera broke the stunned silence: “That’s stupid!”

Haru slapped her hands onto her legs and glowered at him. “It is not!”

“And just who are we all supposed to get in a closet with? I’m sure as hell not getting in a closet with you!”

“Haru didn’t want to get in a closet with you anyway!”

“You only came up with this batshit idea because you want an excuse to kiss the Tenth!”

“Well, so do you!”

“Hold it!” Ryohei stepped between them before they could come to blows. He looked back and forth between them, then said: “What’s Seven Minutes in Heaven?”

“Tell me you’re not that stupid,” Gokudera said.

Stupidity had nothing to do with it, at least on Ryohei’s part. You, on the other hand, felt stupid standing there mutely. Surely you could do something to salvage this situation! But your voice had left you. Seven Minutes in Heaven wasn’t a game you played at the parties you went to, which were, obviously, the same parties Ryohei attended. The thought of being shoved in a closet with any of those present sent a cold sweat across your skin. The thought of being shoved in a closet with him made you feel even worse.

“Well, Big Brother,” Kyoko spoke up when no one else did, “each person pairs up with someone else, and then they get in a closet for seven minutes so they can—”

“It’s an adventure in a closet?” Ryohei asked.

“Sort of, but—”

“Let’s do it!”

“Are you kidding me?” said Gokudera.

“Sounds fun!” Yamamoto said.

“Let’s not! Let’s definitely not!” Sawada said.

But it was too late. When Ryohei’s eyes started flaming like that, you knew you couldn’t talk him out of whatever he’d got it in his head to do. He didn’t acknowledge Sawada or Gokudera’s protests. “Who goes first?”

“I think you should go first,” Yamamoto said. “It’s your party, after all.”

“Sounds fair!”

Ryohei threw himself in the direction of the nearby door. His bandaged fingers wrapped around the knob, but he didn’t get to open the closet before Gokudera said:

“Did you forget something, Turf Top? How about the person you’re taking with you on your ‘closet adventure’?” he added when Ryohei only stared at him blankly.

“Oh! Right! [Name], let’s go!”

“Wh-what? Me?”

“Yes, you!”

“But—what about—” Though you looked wildly around the room, you found no one else suitable for shoving into a closet with Ryohei in your place. Kyoko was related to him for goodness’ sake, and almost every other guest was male. That left Haru, who you could already see giving furtive glances in Sawada’s direction even as he eagerly eyed Kyoko. Defeated, you sighed. “Okay.”

He wrenched the door open to reveal the closet’s dark interior. “Come on! We’re wasting time!”

You kept your eyes on your feet as you hurried inside. Ryohei threw himself in after you. Just as he pulled the door shut you heard Gokudera’s mocking voice call out:

“Have fun!”

And then everything went black. On the bright side, this meant Ryohei wouldn’t be able to see your face, which was surely blazing by then. You blinked as you waited for your pupils to dilate. Only by grasping blindly in front of you did you find a space on the wall not taken up by dusty boxes and the Sasagawas’ winter coats.

“Isn’t this extremely fun?”

You jumped at feeling Ryohei’s whispered voice on the back of your neck.

“Sorry,” he said, and this time he sounded like he meant it.

“That’s—That’s all right. I just didn’t see you.”

“That’s the point, I think. We’re supposed to have extreme spelunking adventure!” He pushed past you to the very back of the closet. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to explore such an extremely small space for seven minutes, though.”

At least he wasn’t trying to kiss you. Nothing more embarrassing could have occurred. You pushed a few articles of clothing aside and joined him. In the very small amount of light creeping in from the crack beneath the door, you could see nothing but a white-painted wall.

“Maybe we’ll find a lamppost?” you suggested.

“What? Why would there be a lamppost in my closet?”

“Never mind.”

“Oh.” He dropped the sleeve of the coat he’d been holding and looked away from you. “Right.”

You frowned at this uncharacteristic behavior. “Ryohei? What’s the matter?”

For a moment, Ryohei didn’t speak. He rubbed the back of his head and purposely avoided your eyes. Then he said, “Name, do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?”

Of all the things you might have guessed would come out of his mouth, that question came entirely out of left field. You opened your own to assure him that you didn’t think anything of the kind—but at that very moment, the door opened. So startled were you that you leaped away from Ryohei before the light from the sitting room had the chance to reach your socks.

“Times up!” Yamamoto said as he peered inside. “Did you guys have fun?”

“Extremely!”

Ryohei strode confidently out of the confines of the closet. You, however, crept after him while trying to make yourself look as small as possible. Maybe no one would ask anything else if they forgot you were there. But you had no such luck.

“What did you get up to in there?” Gokudera asked sarcastically.

“We looked for lampposts! We didn’t find any, though.”

“Why would you be looking for lampposts?” Haru wanted to know. “That’s not how you play Seven Minutes in Heaven. You’re supposed to—”

“I have to go.”

The words tumbled from your lips. They had to, or you would never have had the courage to say them. But you knew for a fact you didn’t have the courage to stay where you were while the rest of Ryohei’s friends explained the concept of Seven Minutes in Heaven to your him. You made a break for the hallway as soon as you'd said it, but not quickly enough to keep from seeing him look at you with obvious dismay.

“What? You’re leaving already?”

“We haven’t even had cake yet,” said Kyoko.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just—I promised my mom I wouldn’t stay too long,” you said. They knew you were lying. How could they not? It was the most obvious lie in the world. “I’m sorry,” you said again.

“[Name]? Are you okay?” Ryohei asked.

“Fine!” You answered shrilly. “But I really, really have to go. Happy birthday, Ryohei!”

You turned and ran from the room, shoved your shoes on your feet, and opened the front door. Just as you stepped outside, you heard one last exchange between Ryohei and Gokudera:

“She looked extremely upset!”

“Moron. You were supposed to kiss her.”

[elfcollector]

it’s cold & it’s quiet

rating: teen

relationships: felix / the detective

warnings: mentions of neglect

summary: It’s hard, looking at Felix, for the Detective not to wonder how much of the worst parts of their mother are echoed in them.

Vampires heal so fast, and Quinn is glad of it.  They’re glad that the pain doesn’t last too long, they’re glad that so many of the people they love can survive so much and only ache for a few hours or a few days.  They’re glad, whenever they glance at Felix, that he’s smiling, free of pain, that the horrors the Trappers inflicted on him haven’t left scars.

Quinn is glad that Felix isn’t suffering.  But it seems unfair, somehow, that Felix’s healing means that Quinn got off easy, too.

It’s too easy to forget, or for Quinn’s always-guilty conscience to push the memories away, when they look at the man they love more than anything in the world and the wounds they all-but inflicted are disappeared as if they never were at all.  But their battered mind can’t forget — won’t forget — his fear as the Trappers cornered and hurt him.  The pleading in his face, save me, save me, don’t leave me.

And their battered mind can’t forget that they left him, anyway.

It worked out — Felix survived, safe and, after some time to recover, no worse for the wear, and they still saved Sanja, cementing the treaty — and it feels so selfish, that Quinn could do that and have there be so few consequences.  Felix should be angry with them.

The thought alone has their shoulders hiking beneath their cardigan.  He should be angry, but they’re not sure they could bear it if he was.

Felix, as though sensing their gaze, glances up from the papers he’s bent over with Nat, a smile stealing across his mouth when his eyes land on Quinn.  It falls a moment later once he processes their anxious expression.  He says something to Nat, too soft for Quinn to hear, who glances up at the Detective, also seems to take in their look, and then nods to Felix.  Felix shoots her a grateful grin and then makes his way across the living room to settle at his partner’s side on the couch.  Quinn smiles weakly, but doesn’t make to lean on him or take his hand the way they might normally.  They just watch Nat across the room, studying the documents in front of her with a focus that Quinn would admire in another situation.

They wonder if she’s angry at them, for endangering her family.  The thought prompts Quinn to draw their legs closer, knees to their chest.  Their arms drape loosely around their legs, fingers tangling against the fronts of their ankles.

There’s concern heavy in Felix’s voice when he asks, “you okay, babe?”

Quinn’s heart is too huge and open for lying to loved ones to ever seem to work, but they murmur, not looking away from Nat, “Mhm.”

There’s a hand against their chin, Felix tucking it gently between his thumb and forefinger as he turns their face towards his.  Guess it didn’t work this time, either.  “C’mon.  You’re usually bursting at the seams with cheer.  Or at least chatter.  What’s going on?”

His hand drops from their chin and settles on their leg.  Felix is too kind of blame them, but Quinn’s so — so hurt, now.  So fragile.  It’s not a lie when they say, “I’m just — thinking about my mom.”

His eyes widen.  Felix has never really meddled in the relationship between Quinn and Rebecca, which Quinn appreciates; things between the two of them are complicated and messy enough.  Quinn barely understands what they want from her; one minute they want to get closer, they really do, and the next they look at her and just seem the faceless woman who abandoned them.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

And they do.  They do.  They can’t bear to.  “— There was this birthday I had once,” Quinn mutters, head lowering until they’re practically talking into their knees.  “I guess it’s the same story for all of my birthdays, though.  I was turning six or seven or something like that in this one, though, and she’d promised me that she’d make it to this one.  She missed a lot of birthdays — she’d show up, sure, but only for a few minutes before I’d get shuffled off to this or that nanny.  I knew it was for work, and I — I hurt and I hated her so much.  For always choosing the mission over me.”

“Babe, I’m so —”

“And I’m realizing what a hypocrite I am.”  There’s a bitter laugh on their mouth and more bite to the words than they’d intended.  Felix stiffens, eyes widening, and Quinn does the same — they’re typically trying so hard to be cheerful and hopeful, if only because looking their terror in the face would break them, that it feels strange to hear the alternative in their voice.  Their eyes squeeze shut as their head starts to throb, head ducking, teeth gritting.  They feel Felix’s hand leave their leg; instead, it wraps around their fingers, gentle.

“You’re not a hypocrite for being hurt that your mom wasn’t around,” He says, voice soft.  Their head shakes.  When their eyes open, Felix is looking back to Nat — Quinn glances over just in time to see her leave, either done with her work or just giving them privacy.  Quinn feels another splice of guilt as they look back to Felix.

“But I —”  They inhale shakily.  “I’m just as bad as her.  Or worse.  I chose the mission over you.”

Felix’s eyes search theirs for a moment, not understanding.  Realization strikes a moment later, and those gold eyes widen, lips parting.  He looks dazed.  Quinn can hear their words babbling, too fast, out of their mouth before they realize they’re speaking.

“I saw — I saw how scared you were, how much you wanted me to help you, how much you needed me, and I still — I still abandoned you.”  Their voice breaks.  “I still saved Sanja over you —”

“Babe — Wynne, hey, shh...”  The words are sincere but a little rote, like he can’t quite get back into this moment, like he’s confused about what this moment is at all.  He tries their name instead of their nickname this time.  “Quinn, look at me.  You were just following your —”

“My mother was just following her orders, too!” Quinn says, voice and heartbeat going louder with their pain.  “You were scared and alone and I abandoned you, and I — I’ve got no right to be mad at Rebecca when I’m worse than she ever was!”

“Hey, hey,” Felix says, and he seems to focus properly, hands moving to gently cup their cheeks.  The contact is enough to halt Quinn’s speech, but it also pushes them over the edge; when they blink, guilty tears fall down their cheeks.  “Breathe.  Wynne, stay with me.  Take a breath and look at me, okay?”

“And now I’m making you comfort me even though you should be angry at me —”

“You’re not making me do anything,” Felix interjects, heart breaking.  He doesn’t know why he’s surprised; why it never occurred to him that the same detective that always prioritizes others’ safety, that so often blames themself for others’ hurt, would feel guilty like this.  Quinn is so bright and so kind and so good — it hurts, to see them miss that kindness, darkening their own light with unearned accusations of cruelty.  He says, “Listen, first of all, I get to decide how I feel about you, not you.  You’re not making me comfort you and you can’t make me hate you.  I’m in love with you, and that’s never gonna change.”

The detective’s eyes squeeze shut as if they’re in pain.

“And, like — you’re the first person who’s ever — it’s just understood, that everybody prioritizes the mission.  Some of us are better at it than others, but none of us expect anything different.  Just that you wanted to save me instead of Sanja is already — nuts.”  He doesn’t get the chuckle out of them that he’d hoped.

“It was — cruel and selfish,” Quinn whispers.  “You give me everything and I —”

“Y’know what’s really cruel and selfish?  That I’m glad, deep down, that this hurts you so much.”  Now Quinn’s eyes snap open, staring at him with confusion and almost-hope.  The hope aches in a way that’s physical, and he’s quick to strike down their desire for him to be angry with them.  “Not because I’m mad, but because if this hurts you that much, you must really, really love me.”

Quinn winces, head dipping again, but they shift a little closer, their hands raising to perch gently on his wrists.  “I do.  I do, so much.”

“I know.  I never doubted that, Wynne.  And I love you so much.”  He rubs his thumbs across the highs of their cheeks, over the freckles he loves kissing so much.  “— It was scary when I realized you were going for Sanja instead of me.  But I didn’t feel like you were abandoning me.  I felt like you were just trying to protect people, like you always do.  And if we’d lost Sanja ‘cause you saved me, I’d feel pretty shit then, too.”

Quinn’s head shakes, but he can see the panic ebbing, just barely.  He’s gotten good at looking for it.  “I shouldn’t have left you,” they whisper.  “I never want you to come second to the mission.  I’ll never, ever do that to you again.”

Felix smiles gently, hearing the catch in the voice.  That’s a declaration that might make Ava stiffen, but he’s never doubted that whatever Quinn does is the right thing.  “I believe you.”  They nod, barely.  “And I don’t know enough about Rebecca as a mom to give any insight there, aside from knowing that she missed out on the chance to raise the great person you grew into.  But you’re you.  Not her.  You’re good.”  Their head shakes in his hands, but only barely.  “You’re good.  And we’re okay.”

Quinn’s stiff in his arms, but he’s patient, and used to the way they freeze when they feel too much, used to helping them off the cliff of their fear or guilt.  He just wishes the guilt wasn’t about him.

He gives them a few minutes, thumbs brushing away the tears, until their breathing evens out and their shoulders have stopped shuddering.  Then, carefully, he pulls them into a tender hug.  They return it, after a moment, hands resting against his back.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn says, softly.

“Uh-uh, none of that.  You didn’t do anything wrong.”

They’re silent for a beat.  “I...I mean it, when I say I’ll never do that again.  You’re the priority, okay?  You’re always gonna be my priority.”

His heart sings and swells at that, despite the morbid topic that prompted it.  He’s never been anyone’s priority, let alone the best person ever’s priority.  His hand rubs up and down their back.  “I know.  I love you.”  Again.  “We’re okay.”

Another shuddering inhale from his detective, as if they’re gathering strength.  “—— Thank you.  I’m so in love with you.”

The declaration makes his heart sing, too.  His head tilts to press a kiss to their hair.  “No problem, babe.”

[medusapelagia]

The demon dog 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Rating: Teen and up Relationship: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Tommy Hagan, Wayne Munson, Jim Hopper WT: Billy's POV, animal death, AU no Upside Down, mention of drugs, mention of alcohol

During the night Billy hears Tommy toss and turn, moving around their room a few times, and when he finally wakes up he feels more tired than when he got to bed. He takes a shower, cooks with Wayne, and then he starts to clean the cages with Steve. He is so busy doing his job that he takes a moment to notice that the familiar growl is closer than it used to be. He stops, looking at Shadow’s cage, and sees that it’s open. “Steve?” he calls, staying very still “Did you open Shadow’s cage?” he asks. The chestnut boy immediately lifts his eyes and looks at the empty cage “I… didn’t.” he replies, closing the cage he was working at, keeping the dogs safely inside. “Do you think he is still here?” but then he sees it. Big black eyes staring back at him. He can’t move as if the dog has put an spell on him. He stops even his breath while looking at the ferocious dog. “Steve. Move really slowly and go call Wayne.” Steve doesn’t move and Billy knows that the moment he shifts his eyes, the dog will attack him. “Steve… please. You have to…” “Get in the cage.” “What?” “Get in the fucking cage!”

It’s just a moment, Steve pushes Billy inside the cage and shut it with his body, while the big dog jumps at him. They both fell, the dog holding him down with his big paws, drooling on Steve’s face while Billy screams for help from the top of his lungs. If the dog bites Steve at the jugular, he is dead. “Wayne! Eddie! Tommy!” Billy screams, his eyes pinned on the dog and the boy. The animal and the boy stare at each other for a long time and when the dog lowers his face toward Steve, Billy slams his fists against the cage to draw the dog’s attention, but the dog’s eyes are fixed on Steve. Wayne opens the door, taking a rifle from behind the door and pointing it at the dog. “Come on… let Steve go. You don’t want to hurt him.” The dog looks at Wayne for a brief moment, then back at Steve.  He opens his mouth and Wayne is ready to pull the trigger when the dog licks Steve’s face like a happy puppy. Everyone stops, looking astonished at the dog. “Oh. That's what you want? Some cuddles?” Steve asks the dog, while he starts to pat him with a trembling hand, and the dog starts to make some little happy sounds. “Told you. He is just a big dog.” Tommy states annoyed. “You opened the cage.” Billy accuses him and he knows he is right when the boy blushes. “It was just a prank.” “You could have hurt someone!” Eddie yells, pushing him hard against the wall. “Come on! He is just a dog!” he replies, getting closer, but Shadow turns toward him and growls, getting between Steve and Tommy. “I think that Shadow has found a family.” Wayne says to Eddie, smiling sadly. Steve gets up and opens the cage where he closed Billy. “Sorry for the… cage thing.” “Quick thinking.” Wayne praises him. Then he pats his shoulder “If you want to come and help some other time, we will be glad to have you.” Steve shakes his head “I have to go home.” he says “But this time I’m taking someone with me. Can I?”

***

After their adventure at the rescue center, Eddie, Billy, and Steve get closer and closer. Steve keeps having sleepovers on Saturday with the kids, but Friday night is guys’ night. Usually, Eddie brings some horror movies and Billy some beers, and they share Steve's big bed at night. Shadow is always around Steve, like he is attracted to him like a magnet, and the night that his parents come back without announcing it, Shadow chases them away. Billy gets really fond of Shadow when Steve tells him that he attacked Steve’s father when he tried to beat him. “He is a good dog.” he states, patting his head “He just needed someone that understood him, you know? He is a free spirit.” None can really tell the dog what to do, and during the night, when he decides to sleep with them in Steve’s bed, all that they can do is accept it. But Shadow is good at keeping Steve safe and he terrorizes some bullies at the kid's school so now everyone knows that Steve and his friends are untouchable. “A demon dog, uh?” Billy asks Eddie while they are sharing a joint and Steve is cleaning the kitchen. “Maybe Steve is his angel counterpart.” It can be. Steve is nice, caring, and lovely. “How do you feel about sharing?” Eddie asks, making some smoke rings. “Steve?” He nods. “Good. I think that there is enough Steve for the two of us.” “Three.” Eddie says, still looking at Steve who now is playing with the dog “Don’t forget Shadow.” “Never.”

[dragontamer05]

Whenever I hear anything about people either wanting a new console release or whatever in regards to the Switch I just hnng, I mean I’m glad you’ve got the money to want and be able to purchase anytime new one is popped out but I’m happy with what I got.

Now I get it, new console means likely updated/upgraded hardware which means increased performance and all that so I’m not saying its bad for a new one to be a released or that Nintendo shouldn’t eventually have something new but my main concern- as is often what happens with new consoles are released is

- Will the old Switch games work on it / could I still run any new games released after on my old console even if it means having a slightly lowered performance rate?

Because lets be real consoles are expensive, not to mention the fact that they’ve now merged the home and hand held console to one which brings its own problems personally. Now for the switch they did eventually release the Switch Lite - which the fact that they chose to release it and people bought it (I’ve got one and so does my sister) and I think it did pretty well I think kinda proves that while people love having a plugged in console to play on their T.V

there are people who either can’t afford or simply don’t want that and just want and enjoy the portability of hand held gaming.

Look I’ve got a Wii have enjoyed playing games on the T.V. but I also like my DS and having gaming I take on the go and personally anyway if I had a Home console type version of the Switch the hooks up to the T.V I can’t imagine ever daring to take that with me on travel (especially cause doesn’t it need to be docked to charge where as even if its not the best choice I can technically charge my Switch lite with my phone charger)

The only thing I’d want from the new switch is let me idk some how Copy? share? my Switch profile with another while still keeping it on my original device. or at the very least idk share game file data.

Look I don’t know how that would or even if it could be programmed to work like that only that right now you can which is kinda a downer because lets say I did want and could by a Switch right now or maybe let’s say I got the special Pokemon SV one or I got really lucky someone gifted me one or won a contest whatever

With everything saved to the Switches memory now all my games now that I have sure I can still play them but it would be all fresh new saves, I wouldn’t be able to carry over my old saves without like removing them off my current switch- I have no idea if like saving stuff to a memory card and just swapping out would work though I assume not.

If such a thing could be programmed I’m not even saying you have to be able to do it an infinite amount of times. I’m just saying keep they already available transfer option of data off one device to another but also what if even if it was just like a one time deal or idk I’d imagine there’d be some other condition attached to it or something instead of transferring everything off it would copy whatever current data you have on there and basically paste on to the new one.

Maybe you can only do it once or because its copying your already existing data it won’t necessarily automatically update with any new changes you’ve made-in terms of downloads n stuff (on what’s basically viewed as your main console where it copied from) so to keep up to date you just have to synch up the two consoles now and then like regular save data might be fine but if say a game had some kind of patch /update to it or you bought and downloaded some new dlc on the main console if you want to share it to your profile on the secondary you gotta sync it up.

Basically how you sync an old phone up to a new one if you want to keep the stuff that was saved there. But like it doesn’t like wipe the old phone clean of that data either (unless you choose to like factory reset afterwards)

At minimum being able to do that would mean being able to back all your saves and things up on another console and not just SD cards or the cloud- which not all games use anyway.

--

Tbh the only other thing I’d want out of a new console change the controllers I can’t even say specifically in what way but I look at them and all I can wonder is exactly how user friendly are they for left handed people? Now the switch light for the most part I’ve never had too much trouble with so maybe it wouldn’t be to bad or I’ve just been lucky with the games I’ve played so uh hey any other Left handers out there that’s got a plain ol regular switch or a pro I guess- you know not a Switch Lite pls share your experiences would love to here.

(in the tags, reply or just reblog and comment whatever floats your boat)

--

[amireallymakingasideblogforthis]

I got beels and satans cards after all the rest of the summons

[minisugakoobies]

Paradise | JJK - Ten

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers (not quite friends but not quite strangers), slow burn, love triangle, Stripper!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, kissing, Jin in another suit, a little ass grabbing, accidental voyeurism, masturbation (m + f), use of sex toys, nipple pinching, dirty talk, Jungkook's filthy mouth goes from 0 to 100 real quick, god bless technology

Word Count: 8.3k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

A/N: Thank you to @minttangerines and @miscelunaaa for helping me with this one when I got a little stuck! And @bangtanintotheroom for providing some much-needed musical inspiration. I might need to start a Paradise playlist, huh? 🤔

Unbeta’d as usual. Please let me know what you think, I’d love to hear from you! Taglist is open. 💕

Previous Chapter ♦️ Paradise Masterlist ♦️ Next Chapter

You need a new job. 

The thought has been plaguing you for weeks. It hits you again for the 875th time on Monday afternoon, working on yet another project dumped into your lap mere days from deadline thanks to an incompetent coworker. These last minute assignments just keep popping up like whack-a-moles lately, and you’re getting really tired of always being the only one who can smack them into submission. Stretching, you close your laptop and decide to take a walk downtown to grab some lunch and try to clear your head a little. 

Lost in a reverie picturing taking an actual whack-a-mole mallet to your waiting work assignments, you don’t realize that someone sat down next to you at the counter until a tattooed hand gently taps the top of your menu. 

“If you’re looking for a recommendation, jjajangmyeon’s always a solid choice. Can’t go wrong with a classic.” 

The corners of your lips automatically tug upwards at the sound of his voice. Lowering your menu, you smile. “Hey, Jungkook.” 

“Hey.” He’s wearing a white tee and grey sweats, a black beanie shoved on his head, the tips of his long dark hair sticking out as he grins back at you. If you didn’t already know his alarm clock so well, the yawn he fails to stifle and the slight puffiness to his eyes would’ve let you know he just rolled out of his bed.

Was it really just yesterday you’d woken up in that same bed?

A server approaches and orders are taken. You do go for the jjajangmyeon. So does Jungkook, along with several other meals. After the server drifts away, you drum your fingers on the counter, still slightly vexed about work, though your anger ebbs away the longer you glance at Jungkook. 

“I’m going to meet up with Taehyung and Jimin,” he announces suddenly. “I’m not eating all that food myself.” 

“I wasn’t judging.” You grin. Far be it from you to shame anyone with a big appetite. 

“So… how was your breakfast yesterday? The one you practically ran out of my apartment to get to?” he teases. You twist on your stool to face him, and he does the same, his thighs bracketing yours. 

You purse your lips in a mock pout. “I didn’t run!” You had, in fact, basically had to drag yourself out of his place in order to meet your friends on time. But he doesn’t need to know that. “But it was good.” He doesn’t need to know that he was pretty much the sole topic of discussion, either. “My friends really liked the photo we took. Of the antlers?”

He nods coolly at this information, but his cheeks flush. “I thought they might.” One of his hands rests lightly on your knee, thumb skimming over your jeans. Whatever annoyance was left boiling in your blood dissipates at his touch. “I’m glad I didn’t hold you up. As much as I wanted to.” 

Your neck heats at the look in his eye, but before you can come up with a reply, the server reappears with your drinks, breaking the moment. You let your own hand fall on his knee, fingertips tapping out a random rhythm as you change the subject. “So… what did you do yesterday afternoon? I got back from brunch and you were gone.”

Jungkook cocks his head. “Oh yeah? You come looking for me?”

“No.” Yes. “I just didn’t hear any music all day, figured you were out.” It’s true that you realized he was out, once you knocked on his door to no reply. You hadn’t planned on going back over to his place, but when you saw his latest note, you might have wandered down the hallway just to let him know that yes, you’d had a wonderful time on your date. 

Just to reassure him. No other reason. 

“Mmm.” The hand on your knee moves just a fraction of an inch higher. The warmth of his palm bleeds through your clothes, drawing goosebumps as he rubs slightly. “Went to the gym. Grabbed some food. Came home and painted for a while.”

“Speaking of art…” What a smooth segue, you think wryly, “thank you for that sketch yesterday.” That heat is back, crawling up your face as you recall the portrait on his note. “I really don’t know how you make me look so good.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not me. What you see is you.” You drop your head shyly, but can’t help but roll your eyes at his proclamation, and he laughs. “Actually, I -” He breaks off.

“You what?” 

He pauses for a second, wide eyes sweeping over your face, before he laughs again and clicks his tongue. “Nah. Nevermind.” 

Once again, before you can pursue that topic of conversation any further, the server returns, bearing your food on a tray and Jungkook’s in several bags. Jungkook rises to his feet as you stir your noodles. 

“I better get going. Taehyung gets cranky when he’s hungry.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles down at you. “Enjoy your lunch.” 

“Thanks. You too, Kookie.” 

If he’s going to blush every time you use that nickname, you’re never going to stop calling him that. 

He starts to back away towards the door. “Don’t forget to text me.” 

You won’t. Though you are going to give it a day or so, so you don’t seem too eager.

Even though you are.

“I won’t,” you promise as he nods and slips out into the midday sun. And then it’s just you, and your noodles, and the slight fluttering of your heart.

TUESDAY:

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:34): Hey you

(2:35): Hey yourself 

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:36): How’s your week going?

(2:36): I’ve had better but I’ve also had worse, so… 🤷

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:37): Decidedly average, then? Perfect.

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:37): Let me try to swing that pendulum towards great.

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:38): Are you free Thursday night?

(2:39): No, I have a very busy night planned

(2:39): Face mask, maybe paint my nails, catch up on some shows

(2:40): I have no life, Jin. Of course I’m free. Would love to hang out

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:40): Not exactly playing hard to get, huh?

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:40): I like that.

(2:41): I aim to please

(2:41): What did you have in mind?

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:43): Well, I’ve been invited to a reception for Flavor - you know, the magazine?

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:44): It’s one of those “30 under 30” types of parties where it’s half celebration, half networking event.

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:44): It will likely be a stuffy room full of old men in ill-fitting suits trying to snap up new and burgeoning talent in an attempt to infuse some youthfulness back into their restaurants and other culinary ventures.

(2:45): Wow

(2:45): How could I say no to that?

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:46): But there will be an open bar. And me, also in a suit. That fits. 

(2:47): Okay, now I’m sold

(2:47): Is this like a fancy reception? Formalwear required?

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:48): Wear whatever you’re comfortable in. 

(2:48): Hoodie and pajama shorts. Got it.

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:49): As much as I would LOVE to see that…

(2:49): Fine. I’ll try to class it up a little. 

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:50): I didn’t say it had to be classy. 

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:50): Just perhaps not pajama shorts.

(2:51): Noted ✍

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:53): I’ll pick you up around 7? 

(2:54): I’ll be here

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:54): Then it’s a date.

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:55): Now, tell me more about these shorts. Exactly how short are we talking? 👀

By Wednesday, you’re about ready to throw your laptop out the window, if only doing so would stop the projects from piling up. It wouldn’t be so bad if your bosses bothered to give you a little kudos or even just a thank you for the extra work you’ve been putting in to get these reports done on time. Everything would still be terrible, but a little acknowledgement would go a long way to keeping you sane.

After a quick dinner, you decide to tackle a different problem weighing on your mind. What should you wear on your date tomorrow night? You’ve never attended something like this before. Should you pick out something dressy? Something professional? A bit of both?

Staring at your closet yields no answers. So you grab your phone. 

(6:35): Question

(6:35): What does one wear to a reception slash networking event?

Bestie 😇 (6:36): You’re going to a networking event?

(6:36): Not for me

(6:37): Going with Jin 

(6:37): He’s being recognized by Flavor magazine. I’m just arm candy

Bestie 😇 (6:38): Yeah you are

Bestie 😇 (6:38): Ummm what sort of vibe are you going for?

(6:39): Would “delicious” be too on the nose? Or “eat me”?

Bestie 😇 (6:40): I mean, Jin does love a pun. But if it’s a networking event, he might not appreciate being distracted if you walk in looking like a whole meal?

(6:41): I don’t know. From what he was saying, you might be surprised

Bestie 😇 (6:41): Oh god don’t tell me

Bestie 😇 (6:42): I’m covering my eyes right now

(6:42): Dork

(6:42): Help me pick out an outfit!

Bestie 😇 (6:44): Something simple, like that black dress of yours? 

(6:44): I already wore that on our first date. 

Bestie 😇 (6:45): Okayyyy

Bestie 😇 (6:45): That blue dress you wore to our engagement party?

(6:46): The one I spilled red wine on? Ended up in the trash

(6:46): Ughhhh 

(6:46): Clothing is hard, dating is hard, I give up

Bestie 😇 (6:47): Oh my god, you’re falling apart over this? 

Bestie 😇 (6:47): Do I need to come over and help you get it together?

(6:48): 🥺🥺🥺

Bestie 😇 (6:49): I’m on my way 💃

An hour later, there’s a knock on your door before Jennie lets herself in. She finds you lying on your bed, scrolling through for images of “classy cocktail reception outfits” in frustration. 

“All right, the cavalry's arrived, let’s see what we’re working with.” She starts rummaging through your closet. The two of you go back and forth for a few minutes, pulling items out and pairing them together, offering them up for the other’s opinion, only to be met with a shaking head.

“You have an alarming number of hoodies,” she declares as she flips through your clothes. “Why do you need so many?” 

“I don’t know. They’re just comfortable.” You tug self-consciously on the drawstrings of the hoodie you’re currently wearing. Jungkook’s hoodie. You’ve been wearing it for two days now. You fully intended on washing it yesterday with your laundry, so you could return it to him, but then you got chilly. And it’s so comfy. And smells like him.

You’ll give it back eventually. 

“Okay, come on, there has to be something here,” Jennie mutters, reaching back as far as she can. She reemerges from the corner of your closet with a garment in hand. “What’s this?” 

“Oh damn, I forgot I owned this.” It’s a white jumpsuit, with a simple sweetheart bodice and a gold belt cinching over the natural waist. Jisoo had convinced you to buy it a while ago, on a shopping trip fueled by a brunch involving way too much soju for so early in the day. There’s a reason it’s been hanging in the very back of your closet - it’s most emphatically not your style. 

But then again, you’re not the type of person who usually attends events like this, so… maybe you should dress like someone other than yourself? Play pretend.

“Let me see how it looks on you!” Jennie chucks the jumpsuit at you and you change. She tips her head to the side as she makes you spin a few times. “I think this is it!”

“I think you might be right.” Studying your reflection in your floor-length mirror, you have to agree with her. The woman staring back at you looks polished. Perfectly put together. Like she belongs at a fancy cocktail hour. Plus, the high waist makes your legs look way longer than they actually are.

Your mirror self looks like she knows exactly what she’s doing. Suddenly, you wish it wasn’t pretend.

“Perfect! Then my work here is done.” Jennie pauses when she sees the look on your face. “Or maybe not?” She drops onto your bed. “What’s up, babe?” 

“Nothing. I just…” You take off the jumpsuit, putting it back on its hanger and draping it over your mirror. “Work’s just been really frustrating lately. I mean, more so than usual. The last few weeks have been super stressful and I’m just about ready to pop.”

“Mmm. Sit and tell me all about it.” She makes herself comfy on your pillows and pats the space next to her. Lying down, you place your head in her lap, and proceed to vent everything that’s been building up over. The constant eleventh hour assignments. The lack of any recognition from your superiors for your efforts. The way your career seems to have stalled, or stopped completely. 

“Are you thinking it’s time for a change?” Jennie asks when you’ve taken a breather. “You’ve always made it sound like you enjoy what you do, but do you think you want to try something else?”

You shrug. “I don’t think so. I do like my job, but I’m not sure if I want to keep working where I am.”

“Then it sounds like it’s time to look for an employer who will recognize all the hard work you put in. And actually reward you for it.” 

“Yeah. I guess. I just…”

“Hate change? Love your routines? Want to burrow into a little hole at the thought of having to start over, and never come back out?”

You blink up at her. “Okay, it’s fucking creepy how well you read my mind sometimes.” 

Jennie grins, booping your nose. “That’s what best friends do.” You scowl, and she laughs, pulling you into a hug. “Look, job hunting sucks, but so does working for a company where you feel trapped! If you’ve reached a dead end there, then it’s time to move on.”

“Ughhhh, I guess.” You lean your head on your shoulder. “Must you be so wise all the time?” 

“Truly, it’s my burden to bear. Come on, cheer up, babe! You’ll figure this out! And you know I’ll help you as much as I can.”

“Eh, you’ve got enough to worry about right now.” 

“Oh god, don’t remind me.” Jennie and Yoongi’s wedding is less than two weeks away. It feels like they’ve been planning it forever. Well, Jennie basically has been, pretty much since she informed you in college, mere days after meeting Yoongi, that he was The One. 

Her obsession with romantic movies means that Jennie’s wedding plans borrow heavily from western-style ceremonies - like having bridesmaids, for example. As an only child, Jennie is rather spoiled by her doting parents, so they’re more than happy to do something a little less than traditional if it’s what she wants. And of course Yoongi goes along with anything Jennie dreams up. She’s got him wrapped around her stylishly manicured finger, which he’d be the first to admit.

But since you’ve been unusually busy with your own stuff lately, you haven’t really been paying attention to her wedding plans as closely as you were. You feel a pang of guilt, echoing the pain you felt the other day when you realized that you and Jisoo hadn’t hung out much lately. The last thing you want to be is that friend who is so wrapped up in herself that she doesn’t know what’s going on with everyone else. 

“Well, maid of honor, reporting for duty.” With a mock salute, you grin. “What do you need from me right now?” 

“Ask me again on Saturday. At the moment, we’re kind of in the calm before the storm? But it’ll be a different story this weekend.” She nudges you. “What you can do right now is distract me by telling me about this date with Jin!” 

“I’ll be sure to text you as soon as I get home and give you all the sordid details.” 

“Oh god, please feel free to save some of the details for yourself.” Jennie shudders. “I don’t want to be standing at the altar next week and glance at Jin and forget my vows because I’m suddenly thinking about his filthy mouth. Or other parts.”

“Suit yourself,” you grin. “But I guess this means I need to rewrite my maid of honor toast.” 

“Is it too late to ask Jisoo to be my maid of honor?”

“You really think her toast would be any less dirty?!”

The two of you dissolve into giggles, and you fall back onto your pillows, feeling lighter than you have all week. Jennie’s right - you’ll figure out what to do about work. At least you know that if you need help, you won’t have to do it alone.

Upon stepping into the reception on Thursday night, it dawns on you that Jin might have undersold it just a little. First of all, he neglected to mention that it’s being held at Blue Side, one of the swankiest restaurants downtown. A place that’s way too rich for your blood, which is why you’ve never been there before. Secondly, it’s true that there are plenty of old men amongst the attendees, but the average age is definitely closer to your own, and the energy in the banquet room is absolutely buzzing - a far cry from the “stuffy” atmosphere he predicted.

Nervously, you smooth the bodice of your jumpsuit with one hand, clutching Jin’s arm with the other as he makes a beeline for the bar. It seems silly for you to feel anxious here, since you know that none of the people in this room are remotely interested in you. And yet, you are anyway. Jennie’s advice about looking for a new job has you wondering if maybe tonight could be practice for some networking of your own. The only drawback is, you’ve never been much for talking to strangers, so you’re glad Jin’s first stop is to grab some of that free booze he promised you.

Jin flags down the bartender and orders you both a drink. He leans against the bar as he smiles at you. “Did I mention how gorgeous you look tonight?”

“You did, but please do keep saying it.” 

His amused honking spurs laughter of your own. “Fair enough. What about me?” He angles his face away from you, striking an exaggerated pose. You laugh again, but can’t deny how ridiculously handsome he looks tonight. When he’d shown up at your door, dressed in a raven black suit with matching silk shirt underneath, hair artfully tousled, wire-rimmed glasses on again, you first thought was, holy hell, he’s gorgeous.

Your second thought was to hope he tips his tailor well. And your third thought was highly Not Suitable For Work, or anywhere else for that matter. 

After pretending to study him carefully, you give him an, “Ehhh,” and flap your hand back and forth. His eyes widen as you giggle. “Oh, relax, you know you look fantastic.” 

“Hmmph. Never hurts to hear it.” He pouts, but you see the glimmer in his deep brown eyes, and can’t suppress another grin. 

“Also fair.” Stepping closer, you press a kiss to his cheek without a second thought. The tips of his ears darken a little. “I just didn’t want you to get a big head about it. Need to keep you grounded, before everyone else here starts kissing up to you.” 

He wraps an arm around your waist as the bartender slides your drinks to you. “Ah, I see. Are you worried you’ll have to fight for my affections tonight? Don’t be.” He pauses to take a sip of his wine. “The only one I want kissing me tonight is you.” 

“Just kissing?” 

He winks, and your teeth bite into your lower lip as he licks his. “I guess we’ll see how the night goes.” You stir your cocktail as he dips his head, brushing his mouth by your ear. “Especially if you’re a good girl.” 

His breath tickles your ear, words sending a shiver down your spine. Memories of your last date play in your mind. You’d very much enjoy the chance to show him just how good you can be.

Drinks in hand, Jin leads you over to where some very appetizing-looking food has been laid out, and you quickly assemble yourself a plate of snacks. By the time you’ve started on a second plate, you’ve already been introduced to a dozen other guests, all of whom politely repeat your name and then immediately ignore you, dominating the conversation completely. 

Jin, for what it’s worth, keeps trying to pull you back in, but the others aren’t interested and always end up steering things back to business. And as the night wears on, you stop trying to engage Jin in any conversations of your own, since you’re constantly interrupted by others. You can’t really blame them - who wouldn’t want to talk to this handsome, funny, incredibly talented man by your side? At least he’s sticking close to you, always with a hand on your back or an arm looped around your waist. Every little touch makes your skin buzz.

By your third plate, you’ve nearly given up on the idea of practicing your social skills, when you spot a familiar face standing at the bar. As several executives from cooking network Nosh corner Jin, you excuse yourself and make your way over to her.

“Wendy?”

The woman turns around, a radiant smile lighting up her face. She exclaims your name. “I thought that was you! How are you?” 

It’s been several years, but your former coworker is still as bubbly and kind as you remember. Wendy had been one of the first friends you’d made when you’d started, but she left the company not long after that. She’s just as gorgeous as ever tonight, lithe frame draped in a chic black dress, accented perfectly with gold earrings and a matching bracelet. If you in your outfit look like you belong at this reception, she looks like she’s running it. 

The bartender brings you another cocktail as you two catch up. Before long, you find yourself bending Wendy’s ear about your frustrations with work.

“Believe me, I understand!” she consoles you, patting your arm. “Why do you think I left? Chan and Associates is a great training ground, but once you reach a certain level, there’s really nowhere left to go! And you can only do other people’s work for so long before you’re ready to run out the door.” 

You nod. “Yes! Exactly!” Taking a swig of your drink, you gaze over at where Jin is still deep in discussion with the network execs. “So you said you’re working in entertainment these days? That must be such a wildly different environment to work in.”

“Yes! My firm has several clients that include television networks and a couple streaming platforms. It’s great. I’m here with some execs from one of the streamers tonight, technically on the clock in case anyone wants to discuss possible investment strategies, but between you and me? I just could not resist the lure of free drinks.” 

“I get it.” You clink your glasses together. 

“But listen, there are so many unexpected perks with this job! Like travel. Especially right now, this platform’s taking a big swing towards shows that explore local cuisines, and I’ve gotten to go on several trips already. A few were even international.” She rattles off a list of countries you’ve never been to, and your envy grows. The only travel you’ve ever done for your job was to attend several dull conferences, all within the confines of your city.

“Wow, that sounds amazing.” 

“Oh yeah!” Wendy nods. “It’s been incredible. And also, the actual benefits themselves are fabulous, too.” As she continues to extol, rattling off a list of impressive benefits your company does not offer, your jealousy grows, until you can’t help but ask a very important question.

“So, um, would you know if your firm is hiring right now, or…”

Wendy digs through her clutch and pulls out a business card. “I don’t think we are at the moment, but send me your resume anyway! I’ll keep you in mind if I hear anything, and I can also pass along some names of some people who helped me get this job - a few industry headhunters whom you should definitely get to know!” 

“Wendy, you’re the best. Thank you so much!” You turn her card over in your hands, fingers running over the embossed letters. Fancy. “I will absolutely email you first thing tomorrow.”

Wendy glances at her watch. “I think I might bounce. The longer these things go on, and the drunker people get, the less I’m usually needed. Listen - keep your head up at Chan, okay? Hopefully you won’t have to mark time for much longer!”

“From your lips to the universe’s ears, Wendy.” With a hug, she leaves. 

You stare at her card again, lost in thought. Running into Wendy definitely feels like a rather serendipitous moment. It seems like the universe might have just dropped an opportunity directly into your lap. Could it really be this easy to escape your current situation? 

Jin materializes beside you, placing his empty glass on the counter. “Did I just see you take someone’s card?” 

“Yes! Former coworker. Possible new job lead.” You slip the card into your clutch before you accidentally leave it on the bar. It could be your ticket out. Better not lose it. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were looking for another job.”

“Yeah, that’s probably because I am just kinda realizing now that I want one.” Tapping the clutch, you grin. “And this might be the start.”

“Well, congratulations. I’m glad that something good came out of this evening for you. ” He gives you a soft smile, and the butterflies in your stomach take flight. “Thank you for coming with me. I know this has probably been pretty boring for you, and to be honest, there were a few conversations earlier that nearly put me to sleep, too, but… having you here made my night so much better.”

With a shy smile, you nod. The sincerity in his gaze has those butterflies all riled up again. And his tone reminds you of what he said at dinner the other night, about wanting to share his life with someone. 

You take a slow sip of your drink, giving the butterflies time to calm down. “I’m really glad I came, too. But what about you? Has anything good come out of all that elbow rubbing tonight? Those execs from Nosh sure seemed to have a lot to say.” 

Jin beams. “I don’t want to jinx anything, but…” He jerks his chin, indicating for you to lean closer. “Nosh might be interested in producing my show! They said something about adding it to the network lineup in the fall. That is, if my agent and I can put together a strong pitch for their upfronts in the next few weeks.”

You smack him lightly on his solid chest. “Jin! That’s fantastic!” 

He laughs, grabbing your hand. “I know! I don’t want to get my hopes up too much, since it was just one conversation, but a network budget would really improve everything - I could do so much more!” He slings an arm around your waist, tucking you into his side. “I think maybe we should celebrate, no?” 

“Hmmm.” You pretend to consider. “What do you have in mind?”

He glances around covertly before pulling you flush against him, dipping his head to brush your lips with his. “Maybe we go back to my place? I have some champagne in the fridge. We could have some dessert.” One of his hands ghosts down your ass, giving a light squeeze that makes you squeak into his mouth. “If you’re still hungry.” 

Oh yes, you’re suddenly very hungry. “We should absolutely do that.” 

“So you’re ready to get out of here?”

You definitely are, especially with the way his long fingers are stroking over your hips. However, you are also full of several cocktails and about ready to burst. “Yes! I just need to run to the ladies room first. Be right back.” 

At the sink in the restroom, you take a moment to collect yourself. Although your head is spinning a little from Jin’s touch, your reflection still looks so put together. Maybe, after your run-in with Wendy tonight, it won’t be long before you feel just as confident as your mirror self looks.

As you cross through the club, trying to figure out the least awkward way to ask Jin if you’ve been a good girl tonight, you discover that he’s no longer alone at the bar. The Nosh execs are back.

“Hey,” Jin greets you warmly when you reach his side, “you remember Hongjoong-ssi and San-ssi from earlier, right?”

You nod politely. “Of course.” 

“They just invited us to join them for a nightcap,” Jin informs you.

“We’d like to discuss our idea in further detail,” the exec named San adds. “We’d love to treat you as well, if you’d care to join us?”

You smile as brightly as you can, but your heart sinks. As excited as you are for Jin and this potential deal, you very much want to leave this reception and all this talk of careers behind. But it would be selfish of you to insist that he take you home. You can’t do that to him, knowing how much this could affect his career. 

You also have zero interest in sitting at another bar in silence while a conversation carries on around you. It’s already getting late, especially for a homebody like you, and you’re tired, the alcohol in your veins slowly completing its alchemy, transforming into drowsiness. If you’re not going to do anything, uh, stimulating with Jin right now, you’re at danger of falling asleep.

So with a gentle smile, you shake your head. “Actually, I think I’m going to call it a night. Tomorrow morning is going to come way sooner than I’d like.” You nod at both of the execs again. “But thank you for the offer.” Turning to Jin, you tug him away from the other men slightly. “Raincheck on the celebration?”

“Of course,” he replies. “We’ll celebrate some other night. You know my door’s always open.” He pauses. “Do you want me to wait with you for a ride? 

“No, you go ahead! I’ll be fine.” Jin pulls you in for a kiss, but it’s too quick, lips barely meeting yours, and your heart sinks a little further as he and the others depart. 

The butterflies go still again while you wait for your ride to arrive. 

On the ride back to your apartment, whatever elation you felt after seeing Wendy quickly dissolves. Staring out the window as the city lights zoom by, you start to feel your frustration rising again. But it’s nothing to do with work anymore.

No, the more you think about it, the more you’re bummed that Jin didn’t come home with you. Tonight didn’t feel like much of a date. By the end of the night, all you wanted was some alone time with Jin. A chance to actually talk to him. Among other things. His teasing comments and lingering touches all evening worked all too well on you. You wanted that dessert he mentioned, even if you didn’t know exactly what he had in mind. You were pretty sure it would involve at least one orgasm. 

Your phone rests on the seat beside you. Picking it up, you open your messages, and scroll until you see the last text from Jungkook. 

All week long, you’ve done this. Open your phone, pull up your messages, find his name. And then close the app without typing a word. Each time afraid that you’re being too impatient, too eager. The opposite of light and casual. But it’s been several days now, so why not text him?

Yet as your thumbs tap the screen, you pause. Would it be weird to see if Jungkook’s around when you get back? The two of you could hang out… but would you just hang out? Can you control yourself around him, especially when you’re feeling a little pent up and dissatisfied? 

Sure you can. 

Maybe. 

Okay, probably not. So maybe it’s not a good idea. Because how would Jungkook feel knowing you’re trying to hook up with him after Jin got you worked up? 

Your night at Dionysus was as close to blurring the lines between the two of them as you’d like to get. 

With a sigh, you tuck your phone into your clutch. Out of sight, out of mind. 

Ha. Right. 

Turns out it doesn’t matter what you decided, because when you get back to your place, Jungkook’s apartment is quiet. His schedule seems to vary during the week, with only the sound of music thumping through the wall ever letting you know if he’s around or not. 

Changing into a soft oversized t-shirt, you go through your nightly routine, getting ready for bed. By all rights, you should be exhausted. It’s nearly midnight. On a typical Thursday, you’d be asleep by now. And all that socializing combined with the alcohol should have run you right down. But once you actually crawl into your sheets, sleep is nowhere to be found. Turns out you’re still wound up. Still frustrated. 

Time for a release. 

Reaching into your nightstand, you pull out your favorite toy. It’s been a while since you’ve needed Lil Jackson Wang’s help, thanks to your suddenly jam-packed dating life, but the longer you lie here, unable to sleep, still electrified from Jin’s words, his touch, the more your desperation builds. With a click, Lil Jackson whirs to life. 

Gently, you run the vibrator along your slit, letting the soft hum clear your mind. It doesn’t take long for your arousal to build, and you slip the thick curve of the toy between your wet folds, pretending it’s Jin’s long fingers finding their way inside of you. 

Or Jungkook’s. Or maybe both?

Oh fuck, Lil Jackson slides so easily inside you as you suddenly imagine both Jin and Jungkook are here with you. Lying on either side, mouths sucking at your breasts, their hands diving between your legs. Good thing Jungkook’s at work, so you don’t have to stifle yourself worrying about the thin walls, because you don’t want to. You let yourself moan loudly, feeling all that anxiety and irritation that was welling up inside you disappear as that familiar knot in your gut begins to tighten. 

“Fuck,” you groan after a minute, grabbing your phone and opening an app. One of your favorite things about this toy is the way it pairs to music, syncing the vibrations to the beat. But before you can decide on which track you want Lil Jackson to dance to tonight, your phone suddenly buzzes in your hand, startling you.

Jungkook 🦌 (11:49): need a hand?

This time your “Fuck!” is a yelp. Apparently Jungkook is home. Switching your toy off, you freeze, not sure how to respond, heart still pounding from the shock of the text alert. 

(11:50): I didn’t know you were home

Jungkook 🦌 (11:50): yeah. strained a muscle at dance practice today

Jungkook 🦌 (11:51): was just sleeping it off

Well, that explains why his place was so quiet. 

(11:51): Oh shit, I’m sorry. Does it hurt?

Jungkook 🦌 (11:51): only when i move

Jungkook 🦌 (11:52): heh

Jungkook 🦌 (11:52): i’ll be fine, just gotta stay off it for a day or so

(11:52): Oh good

Jungkook 🦌 (11:53): yeah

Jungkook 🦌 (11:53): so

Jungkook 🦌 (11:53): anyway, don’t let me interrupt you

He’s a little too late for that. Lil Jackson currently sleeps on your thigh, though you’re still pretty wet, and still needing that release. 

Jungkook 🦌 (11:54): i’m not making you uncomfortable am i?

Jungkook 🦌 (11:54): i’ll give you your privacy

Jungkook 🦌 (11:55): i can put on some music if it helps

That gives you an idea. You press the Call button. 

“Hey,” he breathes softly when he answers.

“Hi. Sorry if I woke you.”

“‘Don’t be.” Jungkook sighs. “Didn’t mean to stop you. I’m sorry if I made this weird.” 

“You didn’t.” Not really. The thought of him lying there, listening to you is kind of hot. Now that you’ve recovered from your initial shock, anyway. “I just got back from a date with Jin. And couldn’t sleep, so…”

“Ah.” There’s a long pause, and you wonder what’s going through his head, before his raspy voice comes on the line again. “Well, I hate the idea that I’m keeping you up… or keeping you from getting what you need…” 

He’s setting you up perfectly. “Jungkook. Listen. Do you, uh, still want to give me a hand?” 

A quick inhale. “I’d love to. But I’m not sure if I can walk over there right now, so-” He trails off as you quickly send him two more texts. “What’s this?” 

“Um, you should download that app. And that’s the login info.” 

“Login for wh…. Oh.” 

You gaze at the ceiling, waiting for him, a flutter of excitement coursing through you.  Pleased with yourself for this brilliant notion. Earlier, you were worried about blurring the lines between the two men, seeing one after the other. But this? This is not that. 

This is an electronic loophole. 

(Or so you tell yourself.)

Lil Jackson buzzes to life. 

“Is it working?” 

“Oh, yes!” you answer effusively as the toy in your hand pulsates. 

“Any requests?”

“For songs to pair it to?”

“This thing pairs to music?” His voice is a little faint, so you assume he’s scrolling through the app. After a minute, “Nice & Slow” starts playing through your phone. The vibrations shift, matching the beat of the music.

“Ooh, Usher. Good choice.” 

“I thought you’d like that one. But what I meant was, is there a certain speed or rhythm I should use, or…”

You grin, teasing him, “Uh-uh. I’m not telling you anything. You have to figure it out for yourself.”

Somehow you can hear a matching smile in his reply. “And how am I supposed to know if I’ve found the magic setting?” 

“By how loud I get.” Might as well put the thin walls to good use. 

“Fuck, this is gonna be fun,” Jungkook groans. “One last question. Do you want me to keep talking?” 

“God yes. Please. Keep talking to me, Kookie.”

“Whatever you want, jagiya.” 

The butterflies stir again. But Lil Jackson stills.

“Aw, why?!”

He laughs. “Hold on, you gotta set the stage for me. Tell me what I’d see if I were over there right now.”

“You mean like, what am I wearing?” You glance down at your stretched out t-shirt. “Um… I guarantee that whatever you’re imagining is way sexier than what I have on.” 

“I promise you that’s not true. I remember how you looked in my hoodie. You make anything look sexy.” 

If anyone else said that, you’d assume they were just feeding you a line. But for some reason, when he says it, you believe it, and your face warms.

“Hold on a sec.” You quickly yank your shirt off before lying back down. “Okay, so… if you were here, you would just see me on my bed. No clothes, only me, lying here on my sheets.” You pause, wondering if that’s enough. Deciding it’s not. “Thighs spread. Like I’m waiting for you.” 

There’s a light hiss. “Fuck, jagi, you say you’re not an artist, but you paint a pretty picture.” The toy starts to vibrate again, and you grip it before it shakes off your leg. “What else?” 

“Ummm… I have my phone in one hand and Li - the toy in the other.” 

“Huh. So if I told you that I wanted you to drag your fingertips down that pretty little pussy of yours, and tell me how wet you are, you couldn’t do that?”  

Jesus, the mouth on this man. From zero to one hundred real quick. Your clit throbs. “Fuck. No.”

“That’s not gonna work, then. Can you put me on speaker?” 

You do as instructed.

“All right. Now. Take your free hand, jagi. And tell me what I want to know.”

Lil Jackson is still pulsing in your left hand as you take your right and draw a line down your folds. You’re so slick, arousal gathering on your fingertips as you speak into the phone on the pillow by your head. “Mmm, I’m already so wet, Kookie.”

“Got yourself worked up earlier?” 

“A little bit.” You close your eyes, remembering your fantasy. “I - I was thinking about you.” 

Another sharp inhale. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. Imagining you were here. Touching me.” With your eyes closed, it’s so easy to tell him these things. And even easier to imagine he’s right here next to you, murmuring in your ear. 

“Jagi. Take the toy and press it against yourself.” His voice gets lower as he commands you, a husky timbre that has you clenching around nothing as you listen. “Just brush it against your lips.” 

The pattern changes to a steady thrumming as you swirl the toy through your slick folds. 

“How does that feel?”

“Feels good,” you sigh, hips rocking slightly as you roll the vibrator up and down. 

“Good,” he hums. “Can I tell you something?” 

“You can tell me anything you want, Kookie, just don’t turn off the toy again.” 

He chuckles, but it’s not his usual high giggle, it’s a dark rumble that sends a rash of goosebumps rippling down your neck. You haven’t even touched your breasts, but your nipples are pebbling as you begin to pant. “I’m pretending I’m there, too. And that’s my tongue, licking that delicious pussy of yours. I can practically taste you right now. Can you feel me, baby?” 

“Jungkook,” you moan, hips still canting forward as you press the toy harder against your core, seeking more friction. 

“I want you to rub that little clit of yours now. Because I want to wrap my lips around it. Let me suck on it a little, just the way you like.” Moving Lil Jackson as he demands, your breath catches in your throat as the vibrator shifts again, the beat changing as “All the Time” by Jeremih starts. A personal favorite. “Fuck, I wanna taste you so bad, jagi. I wanna bury my tongue inside you. Can you feel me slipping inside?” 

The curve of the toy plunges between your folds and you whine as it brushes against your walls. “God, yes, I feel you!” 

“Mmm, keep going. Wanna fuck you with it. Go on, baby. Help me fuck you.” 

You thrust the toy into your tight cunt, wailing helplessly, fucking yourself just the way you like. Just the way you imagine he’d fuck you, that thick cock of his filling you up, stretching you out, making you his. 

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

“That’s right, jagi, let everyone know who’s making you feel like this. I can’t get enough of your moans, let me hear them.”

At this point, your wanton mewling is probably going to wake your other neighbors, but you don’t care. All you can picture is Jungkook above you, dark eyes holding yours as he strokes into you again and again. 

“I know I’m making you feel good because I can feel your thighs squeezing around me. Fuck, jagi, I wanna feel those soft thighs under my hands, wanna pin them down so you can’t move. Want you to lie there and take it. Do you want that?” 

You want everything he has to give. “Yes, please!”

He laughs. “So polite. Let me give you more, jagi. Put the toy inside you and leave it there.” 

You know exactly what he wants you to do. Lil Jackson is designed for hands-free use, the two curved ends fitting perfectly over your clit and against your g-spot. You nestle the toy securely and gasp as the buzzing increases. 

“All right, baby. Now take those hands and play with your tits for me. Since I’m not there to do it myself, I need you to do it for me.” 

It’s getting harder to think straight, the constant stimulation on those sensitive spots distracting you, but you still manage to follow Jungkook’s instructions, running your hands up your stomach to fondle your breasts, imagining his strong hands caressing you. 

“Let me roll my fingers over those gorgeous tits while I suck on that clit some more. I’m not stopping until you’re cumming on my face.”

The knot in your gut grows as you rub your hands over your breasts, kneading, pinching your nipples hard enough to make your back arch off the mattress. You’re no stranger to your own touch, but it’s overwhelming tonight, especially with Jungkook’s filthy mouth running nonstop lewd commentary in your ear. You can feel your peak approaching and you want it so bad. 

So you beg. 

“God, Kookie, I wanna cum! Please, please make me cum!” 

There’s a hitch in his breath. Tipping your head as close to the phone as you can, you think you detect something in the background.

“Are y-you,” you stutter, “fuck, are you touching yourself?”

“Yeah. You think I can lie here and listen to you touching yourself the way I want to and not be hard as a fucking rock?” He hisses, and the sound shoots straight to your tight core. 

“Fuck, Kookie!” This time, when you say his name, Jungkook lets out a needy whimper. You remember all the sweet little noises he made the other night. You want to be the one to make him sound like that. 

He switches up the pattern, and you twist a nipple between your finger and thumb, other hand flexing in your sheets. The cadence no longer matches the tempo of the music. Jungkook’s taken back control. 

“Do you remember that night when you came to Paradise?”

Do you remember it?? How could you possibly forget? 

He takes your moan for the affirmative it is. 

“When you ran into me in the hallway, earlier in the night?” Jungkook asks. “Do you know why I had to run back into my apartment like that?”

Not thinking, you shake your head, too wrapped up in the quivering beat between your legs to remember that he can’t see you. But he doesn’t seem to need your answer, as he continues on. 

“Because of what you did to me.” 

“What… what did I do?” 

“The same thing you’re doing right now. Turning me on.” Another groan hits your ear, before his voice rumbles again. “I couldn’t leave for work like that. I was late because I had to stop and jerk off. You in that tight little dress…  fuck, jagiya,” he growls. “You drive me fucking insane.”

“Kookie!” you gasp, keening at the intensity as it climbs again, getting stronger. “Oh fuck, please don’t stop, I’m so close!” 

His breathing is ragged now, strangled grunts coming through the phone to match your unrestrained moans, and somehow you know he’s just as close as you are. “Ah, fuck, jagi, if I were there right now, I’d fuck you so good, baby, ah, I wanna feel you, I want you so bad!” The last word is an unrestrained whine, a deeply frustrated sound that cracks something wide open inside you, and you sob desperately in reply. 

“God, yes, fuck me, Kookie, please, I want you I want you I -” Head tossing back, your mouth falls open in an impassioned cry as you reach the peak and tumble over the edge into euphoria. The vibrations don’t cease, even as your walls clench and your clit shudders beneath the toy’s continued quaking, but you can’t form the words to ask Jungkook to turn it off, surrendering to the feeling reverberating through you. 

There’s a choked sob on the other end of the line, a stuttering cry that resonates through the wall, and then he pulls you from your high, bringing you back to the moment. 

The vibrations finally stop. 

Neither of you speak for a few minutes. Your breathing begins to even out as you cradle your phone, listening to the soothing rhythm of his soft exhalations. No thoughts. Just in, out.

Your eyelids droop.

Jungkook finally speaks. “Are you falling asleep on me again?” 

“...yes.” 

He laughs, a tiny giggle that makes your lips lift. “I guess I can’t get upset since that was the goal here, right? To help you sleep?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, rolling onto your side. “And it worked like a fucking charm. I owe you one.” 

“Gonna remember that.” 

“You better.” 

“Go to sleep, jagiya.”

You hum, eyes already closing. “Night, Kookie.” 

When your alarm goes off a few hours later, there are messages waiting for you. 

Jungkook 🦌 (1:03): i’m keeping that app. and i work tonight. 

Jungkook 🦌 (1:03): want to test its range? 

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2021-22-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

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[mandoalorian]

Sinner [Dark!Din Djarin x F!Reader] *SMUT*

Summary: The Mandalorian has been attending confession for weeks now, with the sole intensive purpose to see you. 

Rating: 18+ smut

Warnings: Dark!Din, implied age difference, religion kink (don’t come for me...), sex in a place of worship, smut: loss of virginity, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, degradation, unprotected p in v, cunningless, death mention, alcohol mention, brothel mention. 

Word Count: 4000+

Masterlist

REBLOGS APPRECIATED!<3

He’d been coming to confess for about a year now. He’d gone off the rails when he lost the kid. You’d heard rumours about the Mandalorian — strong, fierce, brave... a warrior. You certainly wouldn’t have pinned him for a man of faith. You’d seen him a few times when you were shadowing your father in church. He was tall, broad shouldered, and only came during the dead of night, when the abbey was completely isolated.

“Hello,” you greeted him, your soft voice echoing throughout the chambers. Your crimson red heels clicked against the marble floor beneath you as you approached the masked figure. Curtseying politely and removing your hood, you couldn’t help but bat your eyelashes in the direction the Mandalorian. “It’s quite late. I was just closing for the night.” you admitted, biting down on your lower lip in hope that he’d understand.

“I thought places of worship aren’t supposed to close?” He countered quizzically, an air of amusement in his voice. 

“You’re right, technically,” you hummed, picking at your nails as a wash of nerves flooded over you. “But my father is out of town and... I need to sleep.”

That’s where he recognised you from— you were the daughter of the Grand Bishop. He’d seen you before, doting around the abbey in your signature black gown and red robes. You were hard to miss, your beauty being beyond standards of measure. Yes, he knew you. He had noticed you watching him from the pillars above, when you thought nobody was looking. He noticed the way you’d deliberately brush past his body... desperate for just the slightest touch. He recognised your scent too; it was sweet like honey. And your ruby coloured lips. He’d dreamt of them plenty of times. It was really you.

“Where is he?” The Mandalorian asked after a beat of prolonged silence.

“He was requested by Senator Berenko to present evening mass on Naboo, for the Festival of Lights.” you explained, probably offering a little too much information.

“When will he be back?”

“Next week.”

“Well, I’ll be back then.” 

No, you couldn’t just let him leave. You couldn’t just let him walk away from you. This was your chance. In a fluster, you extended your arm and pawed at his bicep. He froze under your touch, and you hoped that you hadn’t overstepped. 

“Are— you’re here to confess. Aren’t you?” you asked him with a nervous gulp. Maker, why were you so nervous? The Mandalorian didn’t say anything, so you heeded to continue. “I’ve seen you come by before. I know you speak to my father usually but— I can do it. The confession, I mean. I’ve been shadowing my father for the past few months— training with him. I can do it. If... if you’d like me to.”

The Mandalorian took a moment to process your words. Maker; you were a sight to behold. Your eyes were starry and reflective of the galaxy he’d spent so long venturing. Your skin was soft and delicate. You were pure— untouched— holy. He was afraid the discussion of his sins might be a bit too much for you to handle. 

Or maybe there was something more.

Maybe he was afraid that once he’d start opening up to you, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He wouldn’t be able to resist you.

“Aren’t you a little young?” The Mandalorian scoffed incredulously, bringing his leather gloved hand to his helmet, his thumb grazing the cloth between his chin and his neck. His rude manner didn’t surprise you at all, but yet, you kept a strong posture and held your head high.

“I’m old enough.” you declared, not ripping your gaze from him once. Even through the dark tinted visor of his helmet, it felt like you were looking into his eyes, staring deep into his soul. 

So, he agreed. You told him to wait in the confession box by the altar. “I won’t be long, I just have to lock up and turn out the lights.”

As you walked down the aisle, you lit a match and ignited some candles. They were tall and made from beeswax, and the flicking amber flames provided barely enough light. But it had to be enough. It had to do. The wax dripped down the sculptures and chambersticks, pooling into swirls of hardening ivory. 

The Mandalorian waited for you in the confession box, having already discarded the plates of his beskar armour. It was hard to wear, and heavy on his back, but he felt safe… here, with you. He had no reason to be still wearing it. No more fighting tonight, he hoped.

The image of you couldn’t escape his mind, no matter how hard he tried. Dirty thoughts — it was wrong of him. You were the Grand Bishop’s daughter for Heaven’s sake.

When you entered your side of the confession box, your full intention was to follow the ordinary strict protocol. There was no reason for distraction.

“State your name for the records,” you requested, shuffling around as you worked on getting comfortable in your chair.

“Din Djarin.”

Din Djarin. It was a beautiful name. Your mind immediately went to pairing his last name with your first name, and then you cursed yourself for the inappropriate thought. 

“Din,” his name left your lips like the sweetest tasting honey. “Why are you here today? What would you like to confess?”

“I went to Corellia over the weekend,” he announced, his voice cold through the modulator. “The bad part— well, it’s all bad over there,” he corrected himself before continuing. “Got into some trouble gambling at Lady Proxima’s casino and a bunch of white worms surrounded me. So I killed them, all of them. I didn’t have to. But I did. I murdered them in cold blood.”

It was in that moment you learned how dangerous of a man The Mandalorian was. His beskar armour was just as cold as his heart.

“Wh— why did you kill them?” you asked timidly, almost afraid to know the answer.

“For the release. The adrenaline. The feeling of power. I can’t escape it. Have you ever killed?”

“N—no.”

Din scoffed incredulously. “Of course you haven’t.”

“What do you do after you kill?” you inquired, hoping to change the subject.

“Corellia has the best brothels… cheap too. I sought them out and look for a quick fuck.”

“Out of wedlock?” you pondered with a queasy frown.

Din laughed. “You’re asking if I’m married?”

He was right, it was a foolish question. 

“Do you enjoy your time at the brothel? Or do you regret it soon after?” you wondered.

Another laugh— and Maker, he made you feel terrible. Were you really that bad at this? 

“Yes, I enjoy myself. The girls there are pretty little things. Needy. Desperate. But— it’s not special, you know? It’s not… not exactly what I crave.”

“What do you crave?”

“To touch someone untouched. Pure. Holy…” the Mandalorian trailed off. “So, when I fuck the girls at the brothel, I tend to think of the Grand Bishop’s daughter.” He revealed, feeling his cock harden in the confines of his pants at the memory. You swallowed, a wave of heat immediately washing over you. You. He was thinking about you.

This was ridiculous. Was he messing with you? He had to have been messing with you. Sure, he’d seen you around before but neither of you had even held a conversation, prior to today. And he’d been thinking about you while he was sleeping with other women? You had to suck it up and remain professional, no matter how much it irked you. He was here to confess and you couldn’t let this become personal.

But it was so hard. Maker, why was it this hard? Was it because you’d thought about him too? Because you’d imagined his cock in place of your fingers, at night when everyone else is sleeping? You yearned to know more. You ached to know the details. Surely that was fair. He was speaking about you, after all.

You could already feel your panties begin to dampen with arousal. How could one man have such an effect on you? In your place of worship too. You wanted to punch him, kick him, take out all your anger on him. But most importantly, you wanted him. His touch. His hands on your body and his cock splitting you open. That’s what you wanted the most.

“What did— what did you think of?” You swallowed, anticipating the details. You were glad he couldn’t see how flustered and hot you were right now. It certainly wasn’t in the code for you to ask about details such as this but… surely one question would do no harm.

You could just about hear Din chuckle, from the other side of the wall, and it made your slick wet cunt clench around absolutely nothing. He was driving you feral. “I’d think about her ruby red lips and how they’d look wrapped around my cock. I’d imagine fucking her mouth, making her gag— wanting her to cry. I’d want to see the tears stream down her cheeks as I give her my all. And finally, I’d imagine her letting me cum down her throat.”

There was something about him talking about you, to you, in third person. Like you weren’t supposed to be there, listening. Like this information was not made for your ears.

Your panties were soaked at the thought. You couldn’t believe it. All this time, all these sessions of confession with your father, and it had only stirred him on more. He’d been going to confess, only to see you. 

“Tell me, princess. How does that make you feel?”

Shit. He could not be serious right now. You placed your palm flat against the wall and took a deep breath. “Mando, you’re here to confess. Not me.”

You tried to shut out his words, but your body ached for him. Ached to feel him… touch him. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you — but it would be wrong. It would be so wrong.

Another chuckle. You hated when he did that. As if all of this was some kind of joke to him. Did he even know what he was doing to you? It was like torture. 

“See, the Grand Bishop’s daughter… oh wow. She’s a vision. She dotes crimson red lips and she walks around as if she owns the place, her stiletto heels clicking against the floor. She’s bad, like the devil in disguise, and yet, I know her. She’s young and untouched. Her father will probably marry her off to some other minister in the outer-rim, ship her away for good. And she’ll be forced to deal with very mediocre sex for the rest of her life. Which is a shame, really, because she deserves better. You deserve better.”

“You have no idea who I am.” you spat out, feeling your cheeks burn with rage. How dare he make these assumptions about you and your family. This crude, older man with a tongue that could kill. How dare he. 

You wanted to be mad at him so bad. He couldn’t possibly get away with this. But he was going to. Because what exactly could you do? 

“She’ll never know how it feels to be stretched open by a real cock,” Din gritted out, dismissing your comment completely. “F—fuck.”

Din was palming himself through his pants, desperate for some kind of release. His sleuth, dirty words set a fire blazing in your core. You wanted it too. You wanted it so bad. You contemplated all the things you could do, all the actions and their consequences. You and the Mandalorian, both in the confession box. You couldn’t even see one another… the prolonged silence on your end prompted Din to get up and leave when he heard your honey velvet voice speak once more.

You had to say something.

“When the lights are out and everyone is asleep, I think about you,” you confessed, hating the way the croaky admission left your lips. You’d done it now. Din’s head snapped upwards to face the wall and oh how he wished he could see you right now. You were squirming around in your chair and when you heard the zipper of his pants become undone, you knew it was your queue to continue. “I touch myself. It’s hard to keep quiet… thinking about you. I imagine you touching me… running your gloved hands all over my body,” you bring your hand to your breast and give it a little squeeze. “I figure.. maybe you don’t take the gloves off. You praise me when you feel how wet I am, and I tell you that it’s all for you. I’m all yours. To use however you like. I want you to ruin me. Spoil me for any other man. Fuck me until I cant walk. Bite me, give me marks I have to hide during tomorrow’s mass.”

Din made a fist around his cock and began to pump as he listened to the dirty words that left your holy lips. His grunts and groans echoed throughout the box and went straight to your core. Oh how you wished you could see him right now. Peeling up the hem of your robe, you slid your fingers under the waistband of your panties and began to rub tight circles into your clit. 

“You’re a virgin?” he asked, although it came out more so like a statement. Like he already knew the answer. 

“Ye-yeah,” you whimpered, quickening your pace.

He was achingly stiff now, beads of milky white precum already dripping down his shaft.

“You want this?” He quizzed. “You want my cock right now? Think you deserve it?”

And in that moment, you made your decision.

Maybe this life that your father had given you, just wasn’t for you.

“Y-yes, oh God yes. I deserve it.”

A low and dark chuckle left Din’s lips. “You’ve been a child of God your whole life. But you want this, yes? You’ve been waiting for this?”

He was right. You had been waiting for this. 

“P-please Din, please. Wreck me. Ruin me.”

“In the chapel too?” he laughed, rising to his feet. “You really are desperate. C’mon then.”

In a fluster, you practically fell out of your side of the confession box.

The Mandalorian stalked towards you with his cock in his hand, jerking himself off as he got nearer and nearer. His eyes didn’t leave you once and although you couldn’t see his face, you could only imagine the predatory glint in his eye. Maker he was huge, and thick, and you wondered how you’d ever be able to take him.

You weren’t used to this— Maker, you’d never done anything like this before. There was no way your fingers would ever be able to compare to the size of the Mandalorian. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he grunted, releasing his cock and grabbing your throat, giving it an experimental squeeze. You nodded your head desperately and subconsciously licked your lower lip. “I must know. If I start, I won’t be able to stop. Do you want me to claim you?”

Just like Hades claimed Persephone? You shut the absent thought out of your mind and agreed to his proposition.

“I do.”

If it was so wrong, why did it feel so right? You had dreamt of this moment. How could you ever deny him? 

He pinned you against the altar and tapped at your thigh, gesturing for you to open your legs up. His eyes dropped straight to your dripping core and he had to hold back a guttural moan.

Din wasted no time and rubbed his cock along your slick wet folds. For a second you were afraid he’d knock over the many burning candles that you had lit earlier in the evening, before your little confession session had begun. But, to no surprise of your own, the Mandalorian had extremely good coordination. 

“Oh f-fuck, such a pretty little thing. So warm, bet— bet you feel so fucking good.” Din mumbled utterances of praise, his grip tightening around your wrists as he propped you up. 

Every now and again the bulbous tip of his cock rubbed over your clit and the sensation practically sent you into orbit. You were touch starved, having never experienced intimacy like this with anyone before. “Do you want me to fuck you now, huh? Want me to fuck that pretty little cunt of yours?”

You whimpered a small ‘yes’ and Din chuckled darkly, tapping his cock against your cunt before sliding into you with one swift movement.

You let out a squeal, your fingernails digging into the muscles of his back as he seated deep inside you. Underneath his helmet, his perfect lips were parted into an ‘O’ shape as your fluttering walls clenched around him and made him feel like he was home.

“Fuck— so tight, so fucking tight. Just like I’d imagined.” He murmured, feeling like he was already seeing stars. 

Din thrust upwards into you, the curve of his cock stretching you open and pulsating inside of you. His movements were rough and bruising, as his fingers dug into the soft flesh at your hips as he held onto you for support. Just like you’d requested, he was completely and utterly using you. 

“How’s that?” his gasp rolled into an achingly long groan as his balls slapped against your cunt, creating the most obscene wet sounds.

It was uncomfortable at first. He wasn’t soft or gentle by any means, but you’d anticipated that. After just a few thrusts, the intrusive pain turned into bolts of pleasure that coursed through your veins. It clouded your vision like white noise— like what the red berry wine you’d drink during Sunday mass would do to your mind. Din grabbed at the thin cloth that covered your chest, and ripped it off, exposing your bare breasts to him. A sheen of glistening sweat glazed your skin like the most beautiful honey dew. The Mandalorian was tall and broad, and as he towered over you, he coated you in his dark shadow.

His large hands palmed at your breasts and you moaned at the sudden, unexpected contact. He continued thrusting, fucking you mercilessly. With every movement, he hit that sweet spot inside of you, and you knew he’d been doing this for a long time. He was definitely experienced.

He dropped his hand for your chest and lowered it to your clit, expertly moving his two fingers across your bundle of nerves. That feeling, combined with his thick cock, was enough to send you over the edge. 

“Oh yes, yes, yes,” you chanted his name like it was a prayer— and he felt powerful.

The Mandalorian grinned wolfishly under his helmet as he increased his speed. You were seeing stars and it felt like your whole body was trapped under a spell. His spell.

“I ca- oh I can’t, I’m close, I’m close,” you cried as he continued to rock his hips into yours.

You hugged his body into yours, wishing the pleasure would never end. With every twitch of his cock he watched you intently. He watched the way your body reacted to him, revelling in the way your face screwed up in heated pleasure. Din adored the way your brow knitted together and your mouth parted as the most angelic noises omitted from your plush lips. 

“Have you ever felt so alive than you do right now, with me inside of you?” Din queried with a grunt.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head profusely. “Please don’t stop.”

Your orgasm ripped through you like a tornado and without warning, The Mandalorian split his seed deep inside of you, his salty cum roping your perfect walls as they gripped down around his cock. Now he had marked you for life.

Din returned to confession a week later when your father had returned from the Festival of Lights. There was no reason for you to see The Mandalorian anymore. 

“Forgive me, Grand Bishop, for I have sinned yet again.” Din announced, his voice clear as daylight after discarding his beskar helmet. He ran a gloved hand over his face.

“Another kill?” your father inquired, but from the other side of the wall, Din could only smirk.

“I’ve met a woman. A holy woman. And she has consumed my every thought. When I think about her I feel more inclined to sin, over and over again.” 

It was true. Your ruby red lips, high heels, thin robes… Din had become completely enraptured with you. 

Your father spent a moment contemplating the Mandalorian’s words, finding that he was speaking a lot differently than ever before. Not as ruthless or dangerous— but almost genuine.

“Would you give your body to this holy woman, if she requested you do so?” The Grand Bishop asked, not realising he was speaking about you, his own daughter.

“I already have,” Din confessed, subconsciously licking a stripe over his lower lip, at the memory of your taste. “And I would do it again.”

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

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[babblydrabbly]

Distracted (Peacemaker x Reader) Smut

Pairing(s): Peacemaker x F!Reader; Brief Javelin x Reader

Characters: Peacemaker/Christopher Smith, Amanda Waller, Javelin

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warning(s): Smut, language, mentions of blood/violence. Choking, cream pie, semi-rough sex.

Summary: Out on a Task Force X mission, Peacemaker notices you're acting... different. He generously offers to help with what's distracting you. Asshole.

A/N: What's this? Baby's first Peacemaker fic? Takes place before The Suicide Squad (2021). Metahuman!Reader has super strength/speed abilities. Also, what kind of vanilla name is Chris Smith.

---

"Again?"

Amanda Waller arched a brow at your perturbed expression.

"My apologies." She droned. "Am I not stimulating you with enough variety, [L/n]?"

You scoffed, folding your arms in deference. It wasn't about that— It was about the deliberately repeated pairings with Christopher Smith. The dynamic that was becoming a pattern. You never would have worked with someone like Peacemaker on the outside. As much as you appreciated the job always getting done with him, you still bumped heads with him too much on the way to the finish line. He was frustratingly serious and flippant at the same time.

You decided to shut your trap before Waller decided she didn't need you anymore.

"You've got one skillset useful to me, [L/n]. I suggest you get used to the prospect of being paired up with Smith on a regular basis— While you're still around."

You nodded when she dismissed you. You had gotten used to it. You were seeing so much of Peacekeeper you were practically partners.

So, you pointedly sat to next the one called Javelin on the helicopter out of Belle Reve, as far away from Smith as possible. You were about to spend over twelve hours with him— It didn't have to start right away. While Colonel Flag gave you all the spiel on the mission, you glanced over and saw Javelin toss you a nod.

"You're Team B," The thrower noted over the whir of the helicopter. "[L/n], yes?"

"Yeah," you said. Your eyes flitted over the muscular squad member. He looked more like a superhero in his light blue and yellow get-up than the rest of you. You personally kept the lower half of your face covered with a black hard shell mask— Your armor from before you were incarcerated (Yes, you've heard the 'Baby Bane' jokes from the others). Even if you had to get used to working with a bunch of weirdos, you could at least conceal your face from them while you did it.

"You move very swiftly." He complimented, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to take that.

"Thanks," You tried, "I like your... weapon of choice?"

Javelin held his namesake in his arms, his legs spread wide to accommodate it as he rested it against his inner thigh. The innuendo normally would have had you rolling your eyes, but today they lingered, and you wondered if he still looked as broad and muscular without the suit on.

You frowned. Without the suit on?

Were you still staring down at his thighs?

You supposed he was a goddamn Olympic athlete at one point. And prison didn't seem to stop him from his regimen. —There it was again. You blinked and looked away, thankful nobody seemed to notice. Javelin seemed content with the brief introduction, so you left it at that.

Okay, so maybe it had been awhile since you...

You reprimanded yourself. These were not recreational outings. As much as you liked feeling free every once in awhile, you were never in a position to consider doing something so stupid. The last few missions were some of the closest calls you had while on the task force, but now that your job today was more about recon, you could at least let your mind wander to the less... imperative things. You crossed your legs at the ankles in front of you and let mind drift for the rest of the trip.

But christ had prison been rough. And a little boring. You didn’t have to think about Javelin moving closer to you for long— Pressing up flush against you— Before you were imagining yourself against a wall— Hell, right here on this bench— hooking your legs around his waist as he thrusted into you. You pictured him going for two, three rounds, that stupid suit lying on the floor with your back on top of it. You pictured him going down on you too, a handful of his wavy blonde hair in your grasp as you pressed your thighs around his ears. You swallowed behind the mask, glad it was there to hide your face.

You get dropped off an isolated point a few klicks outside the target area, the rest of the team traveling further in to handle the bulk of the mission. You lug some extra equipment in a canvas bag— Guns, surveillance tech— already annoyed by the heat.

The heat of the jungle. Definitely not the heat you'd been feeling in the helicopter. You walked a half mile in total silence just trying to focus on the mission again.

"What's got your tactical suit in a twist?" Smith finally uttered as you got to your destination. You almost forgot he had dropped down the rope onto the ground after you. He stood out against the green around you in his obnoxious red shirt and white pants.

"Nothing." You lied, and you could tell from under his helmet that Peacemaker thought you were full of shit today. Great.

You set up inside a small building— An outpost long abandoned. Whatever organization you were taking down for Waller, they clearly had to downsize over the years. You kicked open the metal door, sending it flying off its hinges. Smith entered first, clearing all the rooms before you joined him. Upstairs, you begin setting up the equipment together. Peacemaker started with standing up a rifle by the window, aiming it at the road below.

You fiddled with a tablet; You went downstairs to put a sensor on the door frame and on the rusted gate blocking the road outside. They were supposed to warn you when any vehicles were approaching, but when you came back up, it lost signal. You did this twice; You batted at the little screen, vexed. There were probably signal jammers over at the main compound that could still reach all the way out here. You thought about how Team A was doing— So inevitably, your thoughts drifted back to the damn Javelin guy.

"Jesus!" You snapped. You were grateful when you didn't break the small screen in half with your strength.

"Okay. What the fuck is wrong." Came Peacemaker's voice from across the room. You stood there without turning around. You took a breath, tossed the tablet onto the bag at your feet.

"Nothing is wrong, Smith. Fuck off." You said. You reached up and unclipped your vest. Beneath it, you felt the cool air of the shelter hit your jumpsuit. You tossed the vest on the floor, then turned around. "When are they supposed to get here?"

He quirked a brow, as if proving his point. Since when didn't you remember the mission details? Rather than give him the satisfaction of thinking you were slipping you waved your own question away.

"God, never mind."

He scoffed. You watched him remove his helmet and gloves, setting them down carefully next to his own pack. He'd made his own area across the room from yours, another tablet showing him a view of the road propped up against the wall. Smith took a seat on the floor; The two of you were going to have to play the waiting game now.

In silence. The thought made you pinch the bridge of your nose right above where your mask stopped.

"You know, I've been at Belle Reve for four years now." You finally relented. You leaned back against your wall, folding your arms over your chest.

"Yeah? So?" Smith retorted. You rolled your eyes.

"So," God— You were really confiding in Christopher Smith. That's what it was coming down to. "I haven't had sex in four years. It's... not a big deal— Nothing's wrong. That's just what I was annoyed about earlier, you know? Consider me over it."

"That why you were ogling the Javelin in the copter today?"

Shit. Shit!

You dropped your arms. "You piece of garbage. You saw that?"

"I'm garbage? You're the one sexually harassing our fellow teammates with your eyes."

"I was not sexually— Nope. I'm done. You're ridiculous." You said. You reached down and went back to your tablet, busying yourself with it idly.

Peacemaker did the same. From the corner of your eye, you just knew he was doing it smugly.

"You know," He said after a few minutes, "If that's all you're bitching about, we can just get it over with."

"Excuse me?"

"You and me. Target's not coming in for another six hours, by the way. You don't need that much time do you, 'four-years-dry'?"

You stared at him from across the room. When you didn't reply, Peacemaker set his screen down so damn casually you consider just shooting yourself in the head.

"You're off your game. I'm not going to let you compromise our objective."

You threw your hands up. "There it is. You're like a broken record."

"What? Am I fucking wrong?"

"No, you're fucking crazy."

"Get over here." Smith instructed in a low voice.

The words shot up your spine, sending a very mixed signal to your brain. Directly across from you, Peacemaker was pinning you with an expectant look— One that was clearly a challenge. It pissed you off.

It was the look he used when he said you couldn't rip a guy's spine right out of his back— It dared you. And when you did succeed, you would shoot him an equally smug look in return. Your back and forths were always crass, always a test of who would back down.

You weren't normally so brutal when you worked alone, but something about Peacemaker brought it out of you. Whenever you were paired together, it was like your powers weren't something you had to hold back. They were something he was always prodding you to embrace. The jabs, the snark— It made you want to punch him in the face.

Standing up, you crossed the room. Smith didn't move as you stepped over his legs, as you leaned down to straddle his waiting lap. He simply watched you shift around until you're comfortably seated, your hands resting on his shoulders. He moved to place his own on your thighs but didn't do anything more.

"Well?" You said.

He shrugged, "Your call."

"What am I gonna do? Dry hump you?"

"Hey, if that's what it takes."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Fuck."

Finally, you reached up, unclipping the back of your mask.

"Whoa, wait—" He started, finally reacting to this ridiculous situation, but you already had it off, in your hand.

"I—" He stared at you. You shifted, feeling nervous as you stared back. It occurred to you that you'd never seen him shocked before.

He blinked. "I've never seen your whole face before."

That wasn't true— was it? You tried to think. "What about in Cuba? We camped out for like three days. I had to take it off to eat at least."

"I didn't look."

"You didn't look."

"I don't fucking know! You wear that fucking thing everywhere. When you took it off to eat I assumed you didn't want me looking."

"Wow. How courteous."

"Fuck you."

"Well, isn't that what we're doing here?" You said, putting your hands on your hips stubbornly. Smith's were still resting on your splayed thighs.

"I can't wear this when we— How am I supposed to...?"

He snorted softly, "Don't tell me you're a romantic, [L/n]."

Nothing about this seemed romantic. Least of all with him. Still, if you were going to take the opportunity, you were going to do it your way. You looked him over.

He had a few tufts sticking out from wearing his damn helmet earlier. You reached up and brushed some of it back into place at his temple first. Smith blinked up at you, his brows pinching together.

"This okay?" You heard yourself asking him. He eventually nodded once, watching you as you placed your palm on the side of his face. Finally, you leaned down and caught his lips with yours in a long kiss. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to know his reaction.

But you felt him return it. Slowly at first— Then he was kissing you back. You moaned somewhere in the back of your throat as he ran his large hands up and down your legs, his fingers folding to grip your ass tightly. You were already reacting, already so touched starved. His lips parted, and you felt him swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, over the front of your teeth. You opened for him, your tongue darting out to meet his hungrily.

You tugged at the front of his uniform. Without a word he reached down to pull it up over his head, the fabric dropping off somewhere beside you. You glanced down at his bare chest. You ran your hands over it, dragged your nails down his pecs experimentally. When you looked back up he was still watching you.

Your mouths crashed to meet again, this time with a fervor that threatened to split your bottom lip with every bruising kiss. You felt his hands on you again, pressing into your sides, your waist. He didn't move to take off your clothes, so you drew your hands to your own chest, pulled the zipper of your suit all the way down to your stomach.

He took the invitation, and you gasped when he roughly reaches in and cups a hand around your breast; He kneaded it, brushing his thumb over your nipple. His other hand worked at your shoulder, yanking the rest of your suit off of you. You reached back and tugged the sleeves off, finally exposing your upper body.

You felt the clasp at your back come undone, and Smith was tearing your bra off next. A muscular arm came around to scoop you up by the waist, bringing your chest closer to him. He leaned down, took one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Smith—" He bit you roughly, and it sent a shock of electricity up you. He palmed your other breast again, tweaked at your nipple until your back was arching into his touch. You squeezed your thighs around him.

Then he was back in your face again, bruising a kiss against your lips as you took a breath. Your eyes flew open when you felt the press of his fingers to your mouth. You shot a look at him, but didn't object when he pushed his index and middle fingers past your lips. You sucked them hungrily, your eyes fluttering shut again.

"Fuck," Peacemaker murmured, feeling your tongue swirl around the digits. You slurped sloppily until they were soaked, until he was pulling them back out with a light pop. He brought his hand down to the base of your suit, where the zipper stopped just above your pelvis. A pair of black panties peaked out from the V shape there, the same shade and material as your bra. You gasped when Smith finally pushed down past the layer of cotton, gripped his bare shoulders when you felt his wet fingers dip right into your cunt.

"Fuck," He said again, because you didn't need any help down there. "You're so fucking wet."

You expected to feel humiliation— To hear a joke about how it really had been while. But all you felt were his warm, thick fingers; He ran them up and down your slit, pressed them in small circles around the peak of you a few times. You cursed, your head falling back. Smith leaned up to kiss your throat, teeth dragging across the base of your collarbone. He bit you some more, daring to take your meta-human skin between his teeth. You cried out, your arm reaching to wrap around his head in pleasure.

Smith slid his fingers up into your pussy. He crooked them, scissoring them inside you. Your hips bucked, unable to resist meeting his short thrusts. You felt him grin against your neck. "Damn, baby."

"Shut up." You whispered, letting your hips rolling down to fuck yourself on his fingers some more. When he slipped in a third you moan loudly.

"Fuck! Fuck me." You demanded, yanking the short hair at the back of his head. A groan left Smith's lips, his head jerking back. Quickly, he removed his hand from your suit, pulling the rest of your clothes further down your waist. You lifted yourself off him, but Smith didn't wait. He picked you up and lifted you both off the floor. You grabbed at him as he laid you down on your back, his body between your legs. Then he was ripping off the last of your suit, tearing your boots off.

"Watch it," You snapped— If he fucking ripped anything you—

"Oh please." He huffed, and your thoughts stopped in their tracks as you watched him lean back on his knees above you, undoing his white pants. His cock sprang free from a pair of just as white underwear, his arousal already thick and ready. You stopped yourself from expressing how the sight of him made you even wetter.

He took a moment to drink in your face, a hint of that smug smirk forming. You growled, pulling him down by the neck again before he ruined the moment with speaking. Smith caught your lips again, his hand running down your naked body. He gripped one of your legs and nudges them apart, planting his knees between you.

Despite his earlier preparation, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock pushing inside you. You groaned as he entered you, your walls stretching around his length. Your back arched as you took him in, eyes rolling a little into the back of your head.

"Fuck— Chris—" You shuttered. His hands squeezed your thighs at the sound of his name leaving you. You heard his breath shake, his hips remaining utterly still as you got used to the size of him. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see him waiting for you; You nodded once, another moaning already escaping in anticipation.

It was like a brick wall knocking into you. Smith didn't hold back as he began fucking you— Knew you could take it— what with your powers and all. The idea seemed to drive him, and he began hammering into you, his hands moving to bracket your hips so he could fuck you better. Faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

Fuck— You couldn't think. You arched up off of the floor as you rolled your hips to meet Smith's. It felt like he could keep up this pace forever the way he wasn't stopping. Your breathing turned to panting, a high whine escaping you when he shifts just right— he picked you up again. You arched up into his arms, holding yourself up from around his neck as he fucked up into your soaking cunt. You bounced on his cock, a sheen of sweat blooming across your skin.

When you opened your eyes, Smith was still watching you intently— witnessing every little expression on your face while he fucked you. You could hardly discern what he was thinking. All you could focus on was him ramming you, the feeling of his cock hitting and stretching you out.

“Choke me.” He said, and you have just enough wherewithal to oblige. You wrapped your hand around his throat, pressing firmly on either side. You felt the tightness of his skin shifting under your touch. His pulse beat a fast rhythm in time with his rough thrusts. The strength of your grip was a little vice tipping Smith over the edge.

The look on his face, his eyes closed as he tried to control his breathing sends a jolt up you. You used your other hand to slip two fingers down between your folds. They found your clit, making quick work of bringing you to close to climaxing. You shuttered as you felt the tight coil of it building. Finally, with a cry you were coming, squeezing your legs around him as your hips rolling through every wave of it. Smith groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm until your walls were fluttering from the unrelenting stimulation.

“Going to—“ He warned, and you squeezed the hand around his throat harder, making his eyes roll up. You whimpered as you feel the hot spurt of him fill you, his hips finally locking as he pumped you with his cum.

You both took a moment to catch your breath, your hand releasing from Smith’s neck so he could take in a long gasp. His skin was reddened along his throat and chest. You saw the beginnings of your handprint bruising around his Adam's apple, your fingers a mark on his skin. You hung onto him like that, your arms back around his shoulders for balance.

“Fuck.” You finally said. Out of habit, you checked your watch to assess where you were on the mission. He took your chin in his hand, drawing your eyes back up to him. You saw that his hair had fallen back into his eyes, his face glistening with sweat.

“I’m not done with you.” He said. It sent a shiver through you. You felt your walls flutter again, some of his cum leaking out with his half-hard cock still firm inside you. You gasped as he pulled you off of him, guiding you down until you were turning around on all fours on the floor. You glanced over your shoulder, already craving the feeling of him filling you up with his cock again.

And fuck it, you two do take the whole six hours.

[georgiapeach30513]

A Losing Hand, Part 15

Summary:  Bunny and Jefferson meet Curtis

Pairings:  Curtis X Snowdrop!Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, mentions of a character death, smut, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.4K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*divider by @firefly-graphics​

Curtis kisses up the span of your neck, and you’re a mixture of giggles and completely turned on and that is not the goal for the moment. Every moment you’re with Curtis has been in Diamond territory, and he was the one that asked you to meet your family. But you can’t meet them after anything sexual with Curtis.

You sweetly try to push him off you, but he’s extra needy. His hands moving lower, until they cup your mound, and you yelp, turning back to look at him. “What is it, sweet fresh, Snowdrop?”

“You’ve got to meet my brother, and his fiancé. And my dad,” he gives another single kiss to your neck, and spins you around to face him.

“You look nervous.”

“Because, it’s my family. Jefferson, he shouldn’t be a problem, my dad hates me,” Curtis cocks up an eyebrow starting to protest, but you cover his lips, “he does. You’ll see.”

His mouth dips down, giving your tit a little nibble before he stands upright, holding out an arm for you to take. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with his precious Heart princess shacked up in the Diamond compound, huh? He knows I’m sinking into this Heart pussy, it’s soon to be Diamond.”

Leaning around your neck, he gives your newest tattoo a chaste kiss, before you give him a playful shove, “You’re always so vulgar.”

“I’m sure your brother is with his woman, too.”

“That is beside the point,” that white opal on you finger shines, as you run your hand down his chest, “is that anyway to treat your…”

“Say it. You know you want to.”

Reluctantly you whisper out, “Your future queen.”

“My future queen will be respected, but if she wasn’t such a slut for me, I wouldn’t talk like this.”

“Curtis! You asshole, we’re going to see my family, and you’re making me all hot and bothered,” he gives you that wicked grin before pulling you along to the car. Forgoing a driver, so it can just be the two of you.

Your father looks over Curtis disapprovingly, and you knew this was a mistake. Hating the way he’s sizing him up with a look of disgust. It’s Jefferson that tries to lighten the atmosphere, “So Curtis, what are you plans as king?”

“Oh, uh…never thought much about it,” your father gives a disgruntled groan. “I mean…I would want to keep the reputation that my father has started.”

“Kill and ask questions later?” your father nearly growls at him.

“We don’t do that anymore. We do expect a lot, but loyalty is earned.”

“Both sides, Everett,” you look over at your father annoyed at him. “Are you wanting my daughter to give you heirs? You making an honest woman out of her?” you slam your hand on the table, that ring on full display. “Your father couldn’t even give you any of the Diamond jewels. A pawn’s ring, and from the Clubs. How much do you really value her?”

“I think it’s beautiful,” Bunny gives you a smile, and her hand rubs on your thigh, that red diamond on full display.

“It was my mother’s. I haven’t been granted to the jewels. She’ll get a proper ring.”

“I love this ring. Do you not have other daughters you can harass?” you ask sharply, hating every second of this.

“Those daughters didn’t kill my wife,” it’s Jefferson that slams his fist on the table this time. His crystal blue eyes glaring at your father.

“That is enough. That was so long ago, and you act like it was her fault.”

“How was it not?” oh the truth comes out. How you always knew your father loathed you. “Because of her, my first wife is dead. Bled to death after childbirth. Bunny, you should be glad you can’t…”

“Father!” Bunny’s eyes turn to her lap, and Jefferson pulls her close to him. “You’re becoming such a bitter old man. “Now I told you that is enough.”

“You’re not king yet, boy.”

“The players are voting tomorrow. You think they want a tyrant as their king? You talk about the Diamonds, but you’re just as bad. A crazy mad man. Even your own daughter wants to get away from you. He loves her, is that not enough? She has no real standing in our suit, and he’s offering her freedom, love, and a life that Venus would want for her.”

Standing up, you pull at Curtis, because you’re just ready to leave. He sees exactly why you want to leave the Hearts so bad. “No, you’re going to sit down,” Jefferson points at you before moving that finger to your father, “And you’re going to keep your fucking mouth shut, and we’re going to have a nice dinner.”

“It’s done, sir,” everyone turns to look at Curtis, and you shake your head no, “She’s already taken my mark. She’s mine. And I love her. And you…you don’t even realize what you have in your daughter. She’s powerful, could fight any man, smart, and loves like a Heart. You should be so proud to have her in your suit.”

Curtis’ icy blue eyes stare daggers at your father. The two of them in a silent staring contest. “Apologize to her.”

“Curtis, stop,” you plead, pulling at his arm. “Please.”

“No. He’s going to apologize to you,” you look over to Jefferson and Bunny, but they stare at your father. Bunny gives you a quick look, mouthing a ‘I like him.’

“So that’s it then?” your father never answers him. “Fine. She’s going to get her things, and she’s moving into the Diamond compound.”

“Over my dead body. No daughter of mine will be living with Diamond scum like yourself. She’s going to march up to her room, and act like a lady. And my son is going to get out of his head about integrating women into the ranks. I’m tired of you young ones coming in and trying to change tradition.”

“Sir,” Curtis stands pulling you up with him. “With all due respect, but the Dealer is trying to change things. Get with the times. Or get out of the fucking suits. Let’s go Snowdrop,” your father glares at Curtis using that nickname. A nickname signifying the life in the Diamonds.

“He’ll make you a whore. You leave now, and you’re not welcome here as long as I’m king. When that Diamond scum gets tired of you, do not come crawling back here. Just a fucking whore to a Diamond. Such a disappointment you are.”

Curtis growls, and turns your side to your father, showing him the healing white tattoo of a Diamond, laid over the already there Heart. He pulls up his shirt to show a Heart over his Diamond chest piece. “She isn’t my whore. She will be my queen.”

He pulls you along with him. “We’re not taking your clothes. We need nothing from him. All this time I thought you were being silly, he’s a piece of shit. How dare he talk to you like that.”

You wait in Curtis’ room, your feet shuffling back and forth, while you listen to him talk to his mom and dad. Explaining everything that transpired, and while they don’t want to kick you out, his dad has concerns about it being improper.

“She has my mark. We pledged ourselves to each other. She’s mine,” you hear the shaking in his voice, no doubt looking at his mother.

“You didn’t hear him.”

“I’ll talk to the King tomorrow. But I have to reassure him you’re not shacked up with her. She’s not a common whore. This gets out to the wrong person, and…chaos. It’s okay for you to be a whore, but not the queen. You don’t understand the life of a queen. They will judge her, and judge her more because she’s an outsider, ask your mother.”

His mom steps closer to her handsome son, and she places her hand gently on his cheek, “It’s not the true mark of a queen son. You know what people will say. No one isn’t saying that you can’t be together. But maybe cool down the copulating. Your brother said you two are obnoxious. And if he can hear, so could others. Not everyone is as welcoming as your father. You are being judged.”

“Who I keep in my room does not determine how I will run the suit.”

“She’ll sleep down the hall,” Curtis lets out a sigh of exasperation. “Tomorrow. Tonight, soothe her. Comfort her. Be her constant. Let me deal with the King and how he disrespected my son, and my future daughter-in-law. Goodnight,” Curtis doesn’t like it, but he also knows it’s final when both his mother and father walk away from him.

He slowly opens the door, and looks at you, apologizing with his eyes as much as possible, “I’m sorry, Curtis. I tried…I warned you he hated me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your mother?”

“It’s not really casual talk. Hey Curtis, I killed my mom,” he walks over to you slowly. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you flush with his chest. “I did it.”

“Complications in childbirth happen. That wasn’t your fault. You were a newborn. Your father is just…” Curtis stops, realizing even though he already hates the man for what he said to you, he’s still your father. “He’s hurt. He should have never made you carry that guilt.”

“I’m scared.”

“And I’m here. I’m right here, every step of the way. I know you heard?” nodding on his chest, you hold on to him tighter, we’ll just have to be better at sneaking around then”

“I wanna bath,” he gives you an odd look as you back the two of you into the bathroom. Stripping your clothes off, you move to his. Achingly slow, palming him over his jeans, until you feel him get hard. Crawling into the large tub, you spread your legs, placing one on each side of the tub, “Kneel before your queen.”

Curtis gives you a playful smirk, before he’s crawling in the tub, sinking to his knees. He stares up and you, and you just pant at him. Your fingers smooth over his buzz cut, before pulling him to your quivering cunt.

His mouth sets to work quickly, knowing you need to cum before settling on his dick. His tongue laves up your juices, before he gives special attention to your bundle of nerves. Working your little nub between his teeth, before wrapping his plump pink lips around it. Giving the little bean a hard suck, and he sinks to fingers in your neglected hole.

His eyes watching you. Your own eyes closed. Whispering his name on repeat as he works you over. Your body writhing in tandem with his ministrations. Feeling yourself heat up in the most delightful ways.

Moving your legs to rest over his shoulders, and he buries himself deeper into you. If he wasn’t moving so much, you would think he was trying to drown himself. His tongue worshipping you, in a way that no one else ever has. Speeding up his pace, and moaning at your taste and sounds. Curtis flattens his tongue and licks the length of your slit, before diving in again.

Making you putty on his mouth. Your thighs squeeze tighter around his head, but he doesn’t care, just digs in deeper. Reaching up his free hand, to smack at your tits. Just when you feel you can’t take anymore, you feel a snap in your core. Euphoria spreads all over you, and Curtis removes both his hands, to spread your thighs. His greedy tongue licking up all your cream before settling back.

He gives his thighs a few rubs, and you move over to him. Sinking down to your own knees, and sinking even lower on Curtis’ cock.

Stopping just to kiss him gently. Moaning at the taste of you on his lips, before you become hungry for more. Rocking your body over top of him. Arms around his shoulders, and lips never leaving him. Breathing into the the other, and only coming up for air when both your lungs are on aching. Panting on each other. And you take a moment to admire how pretty he is, when your cunt squeezes him.

The minor changes in his face, as he feels pure pleasure, and even more pure love radiating off of you. You would give Curtis everything, but you’re unsure if you can give him the queen he deserves. Doubting yourself was second nature. Your father bestowed that gift to you.

As if reading your mind, Curtis whispers, “You’re perfect Snow,” his lips kissing all over you sticky skin. “You’re so perfect. No one…no one’s better. I love you. Marry me.”

“I love you, too.”

“Marry me,” he repeats. When you don’t answer he grabs your hips, and starts slamming you over him. “Become my queen.”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re mine.”

“Curtis, I can’t.”

You see a twinkle of tears forming in his eyes, “Be my queen,” you shake your head no, your own tears clouding your vision. “Please?”

His voice barely a whisper, but his movements don’t waver. Pushing and pulling you off of him, until you’re a whimpering mess. Cumming hard over his cock when he says it again. “Please.”

You feel the heat of his spend spurt deep in your abused hole, and you collapse on his shoulder.

“What are we doing then?”

“Curtis, I can’t be queen.”

“Why? Because what he said?” when you don’t answer, he knows it to be true. You would never ask him to give up his suit, but that’s what you want. A life of you and him, away from this life. Because you don’t deserve to be queen. Don’t even deserve him. “I want you, Snowdrop. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Don’t listen to him.”

“I’m sorry,” he feels you tremble, as you finally succumb to that nagging pain and guilt that you have felt your whole life. “I can’t. I’m not good enough.”

“You’re perfect,” he adds a sweet to your shoulder, “You’re mine. My queen. I love you, and either you marry me, or I’m doing this every night until you’re swollen with my child. Because I want you. A Heart. A perfect, beautiful, amazing Heart. Your father has been lying to you. Even Jefferson knows.”

Next

Masterlist

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