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writingwithcolor · 3 years

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What Does Our "Motivations” PSA Mean?

@luminalalumini said:

I've been on your blog a lot and it has a lot of really insightful information, but I notice a theme with some of your answers where you ask the writer reaching out what their 'motivation for making a character a certain [race/religion/ethnicity/nationality] is' and it's discouraging to see, because it seems like you're automatically assigning the writer some sort of ulterior motive that must be sniffed out and identified before the writer can get any tips or guidance for their question. Can't the 'motive' simply be having/wanting to have diversity in one's work? Must there be an 'ulterior motive'? I can understand that there's a lot of stigma and stereotypes and bad influence that might lead to someone trynna add marginalized groups into their stories for wrong reasons, but people that have those bad intentions certainly won't be asking for advice on how to write good representation in the first place. Idk its just been something that seemed really discouraging to me to reach out myself, knowing i'll automatically be assigned ulterior motives that i don't have and will probably have to justify why i want to add diversity to my story as if i'm comitting some sort of crime. I don't expect you guys to change your blog or respond to this or even care all that much, I'm probably just ranting into a void. I'm just curious if theres any reason to this that I haven't realized exists I suppose. I don't want y'all to take this the wrong way because I do actually love and enjoy your blog's advice in spite of my dumb griping. Cheers :))

We assume this is in reference to the following PSA:

PSA to all of our users - Motivation Matters: This lack of clarity w/r to intent has been a general issue with many recent questions. Please remember that if you don’t explain your motivations and what you intend to communicate to your audience with your plot choices, character attributes, world-building etc., we cannot effectively advise you beyond the information you provide. We Are Not Mind Readers. If, when drafting these questions, you realize you can’t explain your motivations, that is likely a hint that you need to think more on the rationales for your narrative decisions. My recommendation is to read our archives and articles on similar topics for inspiration while you think. I will be attaching this PSA to all asks with similar issues until the volume of such questions declines.

We have answered this in three parts.

1. Of Paved Roads and Good Intentions

Allow me to give you a personal story, in solidarity towards your feelings:

When I began writing in South Asia as an outsider, specifically in the Kashmir and Lahore areas, I was doing it out of respect for the cultures I had grown up around. I did kathak dance, I grew up on immigrant-cooked North Indian food, my babysitters were Indian. I loved Mughal society, and every detail of learning about it just made me want more. The minute you told me fantasy could be outside of Europe, I hopped into the Mughal world with two feet. I was 13. I am now 28.

And had you asked me, as a teenager, what my motives were in giving my characters’ love interests blue or green eyes, one of them blond hair, my MC having red-tinted brown hair that was very emphasized, and a whole bunch of paler skinned people, I would have told you my motives were “to represent the diversity of the region.”

I’m sure readers of the blog will spot the really, really toxic and colourist tropes present in my choices. If you’re new here, then the summary is: giving brown people “unique” coloured eyes and hair that lines up with Eurocentric beauty standards is an orientalist trope that needs to be interrogated in your writing. And favouring pale skinned people is colourist, full stop.

Did that make me a bad person with super sneaky ulterior motives who wanted to write bad representation? No.

It made me an ignorant kid from the mostly-white suburbs who grew up with media that said brown people had to “look unique” (read: look as European as possible) to be considered valuable.

And this is where it is important to remember that motives can be pure as you want, but you were still taught all of the terrible stuff that is present in society. Which means you’re going to perpetuate it unless you stop and actually question what is under your conscious motive, and work to unlearn it. Work that will never be complete.

I know it sounds scary and judgemental (and it’s one of the reasons we allow people to ask to be anonymous, for people who are afraid). Honestly, I would’ve reacted much the same as a younger writer, had you told me I was perpetuating bad things. I was trying to do good and my motives were pure, after all! But after a few years, I realized that I had fallen short, and I had a lot more to learn in order for my motives to match my impact. Part of our job at WWC is to attempt to close that gap.

We aren’t giving judgement, when we ask questions about why you want to do certain things. We are asking you to look at the structural underpinnings of your mind and question why those traits felt natural together, and, more specifically, why those traits felt natural to give to a protagonist or other major character.

I still have blond, blue-eyed characters with sandy coloured skin. I still have green-eyed characters. Because teenage me was right, that is part of the region. But by interrogating my motive, I was able to devalue those traits within the narrative, and I stopped making those traits shorthand for “this is the person you should root for.”

It opened up room for me to be messier with my characters of colour, even the ones who my teenage self would have deemed “extra special.” Because the European-associated traits (pale hair, not-brown-eyes) stopped being special. After years of questioning, they started lining up with my motive of just being part of the diversity of the region.

Motive is important, both in the conscious and the subconscious. It’s not a judgement and it’s not assumed to be evil. It’s simply assumed to be unquestioned, so we ask that you question it and really examine your own biases.

~Mod Lesya

2. Motivations Aren't Always "Ulterior"

You can have a positive motivation or a neutral one or a negative one. Just wanting to have diversity only means your characters aren't all white and straight and cis and able-bodied -- it doesn't explain why you decided to make this specific character specifically bi and specifically Jewish (it me). Yes, sometimes it might be completely random! But it also might be "well, my crush is Costa Rican, so I gave the love interest the same background", or "I set it in X City where the predominant marginalized ethnicity is Y, so they are Y". Neither of these count as ulterior motives. But let's say for a second that you did accidentally catch yourself doing an "ulterior." Isn't that the point of the blog, to help you find those spots and clean them up?

Try thinking of it as “finding things that need adjusting” rather than “things that are bad” and it might get less scary to realize that we all do them, subconsciously. Representation that could use some work is often the product of subconscious bias, not deliberate misrepresentation, so there's every possibility that someone who wants to improve and do better didn't do it perfectly the first time.

--Shira

3. Dress-Making as a Metaphor

I want to echo Lesya’s sentiments here but also provide a more logistical perspective. If you check the rubber stamp guide here and the “Motivation matters” PSA above, you’ll notice that concerns with respect to asker motivation are for the purposes of providing the most relevant answer possible.

It is a lot like if someone walks into a dressmaker’s shop and asks for a blue dress/ suit (Back when getting custom-made clothes was more of a thing) . The seamstress/ tailor is likely to ask a wide variety of questions:

What material do you want the outfit to be made of?

Where do you plan to wear it?

What do you want to highlight?

How do you want to feel when you wear it?

Let’s say our theoretical customer is in England during the 1920s. A tartan walking dress/ flannel suit for the winter is not the same as a periwinkle, beaded, organza ensemble/ navy pinstripe for formal dress in the summer. When we ask for motivations, we are often asking for exactly that: the specific reasons for your inquiry so we may pinpoint the most pertinent information.

The consistent problem for many of the askers who receive the PSA is they haven’t even done the level of research necessary to know what they want to ask of us. It would be like if our English customer in the 1920s responded, “IDK, some kind of blue thing.” Even worse, WWC doesn’t have the luxury of the back-and-forth between a dressmaker and their clientele. If our asker doesn’t communicate all the information they need in mind at the time of submission, we can only say, “Well, I’m not sure if this is right, but here’s something. I hope it works, but if you had told us more, we could have done a more thorough job.”

Answering questions without context is hard, and asking for motivations, by which I mean the narratives, themes, character arcs and other literary devices that you are looking to incorporate, is the best way for us to help you, while also helping you to determine if your understanding of the problem will benefit from outside input. Because these asks are published with the goal of helping individuals with similar questions, the PSA also serves to prompt other users.

I note that asking questions is a skill, and we all start by asking the most basic questions (Not stupid questions, because to quote a dear professor, “There are no stupid questions.”). Unfortunately, WWC is not suited for the most basic questions. To this effect, we have a very helpful FAQ and archive as a starting point. Once you have used our website to answer the more basic questions, you are more ready to approach writing with diversity and decide when we can actually be of service. This is why we are so adamant that people read the FAQ. Yes, it helps us, but it also is there to save you time and spare you the ambiguity of not even knowing where to start.

The anxiety in your ask conveys to me a fear of being judged for asking questions. That fear is not something we can help you with, other than to wholeheartedly reassure you that we do not spend our unpaid, free time answering these questions in order to assume motives we can’t confirm or sit in judgment of our users who, as you say, are just trying to do better.

Yes, I am often frustrated when an asker’s question makes it clear they haven’t read the FAQ or archives. I’ve also been upset when uncivil commenters have indicated that my efforts and contributions are not worth their consideration. However, even the most tactless question has never made me think, “Ooh this person is such a naughty racist. Let me laugh at them for being a naughty racist. Let me shame them for being a naughty racist. Mwahaha.”

What kind of sad person has time for that?*

Racism is structural. It takes time to unlearn, especially if you’re in an environment that doesn’t facilitate that process to begin with. Our first priority is to help while also preserving our own boundaries and well-being. Though I am well aware of the levels of toxic gas-lighting and virtue signaling that can be found in various corners of online writing communities in the name of “progressivism*”, WWC is not that kind of space. This space is for discussions held in good faith: for us to understand each other better, rather than for one of us to “win” and another to “lose.”

Just as we have good faith that you are doing your best, we ask that you have faith that we are trying to do our best by you and the BIPOC communities we represent.

- Marika.

*If you are in any writing or social media circles that feed these anxieties or demonstrate these behaviors, I advise you to curtail your time with them and focus on your own growth. You will find, over time, that it is easier to think clearly when you are worrying less about trying to appease people who set the bar of approval so high just for the enjoyment of watching you jump. “Internet hygiene”, as I like to call it, begins with you and the boundaries you set with those you interact with online.

#PSAs #asker concerns #diversity #motivations in writing #writing with diversity #blog housekeeping #internet hygeine #asks #WWC

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daphnedauphinoise · 2 years

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Next style guide 🥺

For you,my muse:

Carolyn Bessette

She was a publicist at Calvin Klein when she met the king of prep, my personal hearthrob, JFK Junior. I love this deatched vibe that you get from her and well JFK Junior got that too from her. I loved her because she gotJFK Jr but I love her even more because she has never not looked good.

Carolyn’s style in three words would be simple, androgynous and straightforward. She doesn’t venture into anything too colourful or too risque but that is what works with her look and why she looks good all the time. Her style is a result of having a solid capsule wardrobe with items she van rotate throughout the year. But her capsule wardrobe is slightly different from the modern 2020 capsule wardrobe. What I love about Carolyn is the lack of blazers. Instead she uses long coats, long sleeved knits or she just goes sleeveless. Constantly wearing a blazer (imo) isn’t as stylish as people think it is, it is very easy to use a blazer as a scapegoat when you know your outfit is heading south. Sure, there isn’t alot of variety in her style but that 'simpleness' is what looks good on her and her commitent to that, is why she looked good all the time.

The basics of her style is a button down, trousers and loafers. In most of her pap photographs she is wearing a variation of this. During warmer months, she switches to a silk skirt. She wasn’t a accessoriezer either or a makeup girlie. Infact in most of her pictures she is only sporting red lipstick and her hair either out and in a bun.

Regardless she has the coolness about her and she complimented JFK Jr well... a lot of people did not think so but I say she did.

How to dress like Carolyn Bessette in..

Autumn/Winter?

Long silhouettes work beautifully during winter. Long A-line coats made with good quality wool are some of the best types of coats. Thicker knits layered on top of each other paired with structured trousers. I like to advise my friends to keep their knits and cardigan loongg. Long shilotues are very pleasing to the eye, it makes you look more uniform and it makes you look taller with a silmming effect. If you are petite and/or you have a large bust, avoid crowding your neck with knitwear. High necks tend to make women with bigger bust look congested and stuffy. ( It also gives us the most unforgiving uniboob too) Try more v-line neckline or scoop neckline with knits, also I tend to avoid thick knits as the volume of the fabric makes me look clunky and not oversized chic.

In a style where everything is so consistent, colour is how you are going to look different. You would think people would wear darker, rich colours in the colder months but they don’t. There is no need to be mono-chromatic all the time and again being dressed in mono-chromatic head to toe, isn’t the hallmark of good style. Carolyn used a lot of red to stop her outfits from looking repetitive. I think red is avery underrated colour. You only ever see it in lingere or silk-satin dresses because people only associate sensuality with red and compelty ignore that red also means power. Red in coats has the power to draw you in becuase you look different but the sleekness of your style isn’t screaming clown from the travelling circus but powerful lady coming through.

Carolyn (i say as we were besties) loved wearing loafers. I think she wore them a lot because loafers show skin which helps break up an outfit. Because she wears a lot of long silhouettes and matching dark trousers and dark footwear, it is good to wear something that breaks up your body so you don’t look like a long line with no feet. Ballet flats are coming back and they do the same thing as well. Boots are another staple. I love pairing boots and long dress together. For the Carolyn Bessette look I would ditch the bratz esque knee high boots for something that is more loose with a moderate heel height.

Spring? Summer?

Personally, I am resortwear kind of girl. Heavily perfumes, heavily adorned and in soft fluttering fabrics is how you will find me. But Carolyn, nope. She still maintains those structures in her clothing choice during the summer months. Boxy oversized shorts, structured linen shorts (I highly reccomend everyont to have one pair in cream or beige, its such an essential), sandals, chinos, ribbed cami and silk-satin dresses that end just under your knee.

Hamptons chic is her summer style. Linen, cotton and merino wool for the chiller knits. This is the time to wear the lighter colours of your favourite colours. If you want (and Carolyn did this) you can wear the same ensemble of an outfit but with lighter fabrics.

What I have noticed that is different in her spring/summer style and her autumn/winter is that there is a certain laissez-faire in her dressing style. Top buttons are undone, her hair is messier and she is relaxed. Her hair was always unkept but I think that really worked for her.

Brands to get inspo for Carolyn’s style: Iris & Ink, Khaite, Joseph and The Row.

There is a girl on tikok who is a great person to follow if you like Carolyn’s style ( i will tag her when i find her) .

Overall her style is very model-off duty-esque. There isn't really anything that stands out about her style from the next model but her style is undeniably hers. Apart from her marriage to JFK Jr her cool style is what she is remembered for. Everyone who met her in NYC would say that her style and grace were what caught their eyes. She had a way of holding her neck eye and she has this look that nothing could truly surprise her. It was her who truly established the minimalist look when fashion was heading straight to colour, glitter and prints. I miss her and I think about her all the time and I hope as she looks down from heaven that she is the blueprint and 20 years later people still want to emulate her signature look.

Daphne xoxo

#you ask for daphne's answer #daphne's style file

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h34rtizuku · 3 years

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༺♡༻ if ur under 18, dni ✧ luv u tho

∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗

୨୧ izuku is a pro hero with a 6 year old kid and it’s not mf easy

୨୧ while he’s at work, inko will watch over the child but he feels bad for putting all that burden on her so he decides to hire a nanny

୨୧ you're not too big on kids but you're good with them and that he experiences first hand ~

୨୧ he’s at the store one weekend with kiddo and he’s in the chip aisle looking for which type he wants to get

୨୧ mumbling to himself about which type he’s craving now but what if that craving changes later and he wants a different flavor instead

୨୧ he lets go of the little one’s hand for a split second to get the bag off the shelf and once the grocery is in his arms he turns to his side to grab the little one’s hand once more, only to find him not there

୨୧ he looks up and down the aisle - no kid

୨୧ he goes to the neighboring aisles - not there

୨୧ he goes all around the store, nervously sweating, muttering insults to himself that he lost his only kid - how stupid and unfit of a parent he was

୨୧ until he comes upon an aisle and hears the sniffles of a small child the child took a bit after him when he was a kid, a bit of a crybaby

୨୧ but he sees you

୨୧ calmly reassuring the child, patting his back, telling him to calm down and not to worry that you’ll go look for his father together

୨୧ he doesn’t know why but the sight tugs at his heart, there is something so pure and natural about how you are treating his child

୨୧ but he’s breaking up the sweet moment with a call of his child’s name causing the little boy to turn around and rush into izuku’s large warm arms

୨୧ you’re standing there a little shocked because omg that’s pro hero deku in the mf flesh

୨୧ but you're also happy that the lost boy has been reunited with his father

୨୧ you're about to walk off with a smile when he stops you

୨୧ he thanks you profusely for your help and you’re shyly like ‘it’s no biggie’ with blushed cheeks

୨୧ he asks if he can properly thank you and you’re like dude it’s really no problem

୨୧ he really is thankful but there is also something deep inside him that doesn’t quite want to let you go

୨୧ so he’s like let me buy your groceries and take you out for coffee

୨୧ and you’re about to refuse but you’re a poor college student so getting this weeks groceries for free was one thing

୨୧ but also how are you gonna pass up having coffee with the number one hero and his cute little mini-me ???

୨୧ so yall are at a cute lil cafe where he learns that you're a college student and looking for a partime job over the summer

୨୧ he’s like, you know what, why don’t i hire you as my nanny

୨୧ you’re like i’m not sure, i’m not really a kid person

୨୧ he’s like, i saw you with him, you’ll be just fine - besides he’s a good kid, he just needs someone to watch over him and feed him

୨୧ also i pay really well

୨୧ so you’re like … say less

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

୨୧ so the first day on the job you arrive at like 8 am, he gave you the code to his door so you just let yourself in

୨୧ you see kiddo at the kitchen table just eating his cheerios or whatever but no sign of izuku

୨୧ so you just go over and take a seat next to the kid and make small talk with him

୨୧ then you hear some shuffling coming from behind you causing you to turn around and investigate

୨୧ lo and behold you see a shirtless izuku with nothing but gray sweatpants hanging low on his wide hips

୨୧ he’s got a towel across his broad shoulders that he’s using to dry the jade curls that haven’t been shaved off as a part of his undercut

୨୧ you follow the droplets of water as they slide down the crevices of his pectorals and abdomen, drifting down his v line and the small tuft of hair leading down from his belly button and melting into the waistline of his pants

୨୧ you’re trying not to salivate at the sight but you also can’t bring yourself to look away just yet wanting to memorize and study the location of every scar and freckle littering his muscular torso

୨୧ he stops drying his hair for a minute and finally sees you like ‘oh great you’re here - how was the trip over here? it wasn’t too hard to find right?’

୨୧ and you’re burning eyes finally tear away from caramel torso and you’re like ‘nope, i found it just fine’ ahaha

୨୧ he gives you a little low down on like, what kid likes to eat, what he doesn’t, what he likes to do, when he goes down for a nap … all that good babysitting stuff

୨୧ after he’s dressed in his hero outfit, he’s kissing his lil nugget goodbye, telling him to treat you nicely, and with several final thank you’s he’s out the door

୨୧ and that’s the start of your job nannying the kid of the number one hero

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

୨୧ he was right, the kid is a really easy kid

୨୧ he goes down easy for his nap, he’s potty trained, inko raised him like she did izuku so he’s basically the perfect kid, he’s really sweet and will sit down and watch movies with you or he plays really easy by himself playing with his deku, all might, and dynamite action figures

୨୧ and if how easy a job it was, or the smoking hot employer wasn’t enough, the first time you got your paycheck was

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

୨୧ one day, there was a sudden summer storm that hit right as you reached your stop on the bus

୨୧ you didn’t have an umbrella, forcing you to run to izuku’s house in the pouring rain

୨୧ you show up through the front door and he comes in to greet you only to see you drenched and shivering due to the ac in his home

୨୧ he’s like, “hey y/n how- oh my god, you’re soaked.”

୨୧ and you’re rubbing at your arm awkwardly and trying to create any sort of warmth as you tell him how you got in this mess

୨୧ he’s taking in your soaked form and suddenly his worrying eyes turn into curious ones as he watches a droplet slide from your chin, down your neck, and down your chest to fall between the top alley of your breasts due to the first few buttons of your top being opened

୨୧ the white top you decided today was the perfect day to wear, and without a bra no less

୨୧ but in your shivering and embarrassment you forgot all about that minor detail

୨୧ oh but izuku didn’t forget it

୨୧ he imagined that water droplet sliding down the valley of your breasts underneath your blouse and gliding over your stomach, almost getting lost in your belly button, only to disappear under your waistband

୨୧ he imagined what it would be like to lick the droplets off your hot skin

୨୧ he scanned back up and noticed the tight see-through material of your shirt hugging your tits, dipping into every crevice leaving nothing to the imagination

୨୧ he sees the dark hue of your nipples from behind the cloth, along with the 2 little peaks your buds have made due to the cold air circulating in his house bonus points if you have your nipples pierced, i’m jealous of you

୨୧ he pulls his gaze away when he sees a violent shiver rack your body

୨୧ he leaves for a moment and comes back with a warm towel, almost sad to see the sight of your tits gone but your comfort and warmth was more important to him

୨୧ he tells you to dry off a bit as he goes and gets the shower started for you

୨୧ you’re thanking him yet apologizing for the trouble as you’re gonna make him late for work

୨୧ and he’s denying any negative comments coming out your mouth saying that he technically is at work as helping people is his job and he wouldn’t be a good hero if he didn’t help someone right in front of him

୨୧ he tells you to take as long as you need getting washed up and getting the temperature back in your body

୨୧ he doesn’t have time to think about how you’re just a few feet and a closed bathroom door away from him, naked ~ as he picks out the smallest pieces of clothing he has in his closet

୨୧ he finds an old t-shirt and shorts from his high school days and lays them on his bed telling you through the door that when you’re done he has clothes waiting for you

୨୧ you don’t take too long getting washed up as you know he needs to get to work so only about 10 minutes later you’re walking into the living to izuku sitting on the couch watching the movie his kid wanted to put on

୨୧ he sees you come in from his peripherals as his heart damn near stops seeing you in his clothes

୨୧ the clothes were so small they couldn’t fit him any longer, not after getting a post-high school growth spurt and getting broader due to his hero work

୨୧ but the fact that his already small clothes were swallowing you just did something to him

୨୧ blame it on his size kink he don’t know he has quite yet

୨୧ he pulls himself together to tell you that he threw your soiled clothes in the wash before he says his good byes to his kiddo

୨୧ he’s heading out the door while you and his son are telling him to be safe out there when just as he’s about to leave you call out to him

୨୧ he’s turning around maybe a lil too fast, but he sees you with an umbrella in your hand telling him that you ‘wouldn’t want him to make the same mistake you did’ with a cute bashful smile on your face that almost made him call in sick to work

୨୧ but he knew he couldn’t do that

୨୧ screw being number one hero and all that

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

୨୧ a few weeks later he comes home from work, tired af as one would

୨୧ but he gets to the door and sees you and his kiddo waiting for him inside

୨୧ you have a cake in your hands and his little one pops one of those little confetti canons at his father with a loud “happy birthday”

୨୧ he’s a lil shocked, a lil surprised, but in a good way

୨୧ he looks at you

୨୧ “well kiddo told me it was your birthday and with a quick little google search i confirmed it to be true. and i felt bad that you had to work on your birthday so we decided to bake you a cake while you were gone and wait for you to get home.” you said softly

୨୧ he had totally forgotten it was his birthday but if it being his birthday meant that he could see you in a little apron waiting for him to come in the door …

୨୧ damn he wished it was his birthday everyday

୨୧ y’all move into the kitchen to start cutting the cake and as you’re plating slices you lean down to the little one and tell him to ‘go get the birthday card he made for daddy’

୨୧ and izuku who wasn’t quite paying attention is like “hmm?” and you just like look at him

୨୧ and he’s like, “oh i thought- you were calling for me-“

୨୧ and you’re like mf, i don’t call you daddy yet

୨୧ but yall just kinda like awkwardly get past it and move on when the child comes running in with his folded construction paper with a green stick figure on the front labeled ‘dad’

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

୨୧ it all leads up to the day about a month later when you arrive at their home to no sign of the kid

୨୧ and you’re like ~ wtf? he always comes to greet me at the door with a hug and he’s not doing that

୨୧ and you’re looking in the kitchen and the living room to see no sign of the child

୨୧ when you’re about to head into his room to see if he somehow decided to sleep in today, izuku comes out his room

୨୧ and you’re like, where’s the kid?

୨୧ and he’s like, oh, i meant to tell you that my mom came by just a few minutes ago and decided to take him out for the day

୨୧ so you’re like, okay, should i just go home then?

୨୧ and he’s like, you could but i just so happen to have the day off and i think it would be nice if we got to spend some time together, without the kid around

୨୧ and you’re like, what am i gonna do ?? say no ?!

୨୧ so y’all go out for coffee, take a walk around the park, and then go out for lunch before going back to his house to watch like a movie or whatever

୨୧ y’all get back home and he sits on the couch scrolling through streaming sites looking for a movie and you’re coming back from the bathroom

୨୧ when you’re walking to the couch, your foot catches one of the kid’s toys that was lying on the floor causing you to trip and stumble forward

୨୧ izuku moves to catch you causing you to fall into his chest and practically on top his lap

୨୧ you’re out of breath from the sudden adrenaline spike but the close proximity between the two of you isn’t making it any easier to catch said breath

୨୧ neither of y’all are moving, just staring into each others eyes as he quietly asks “are you alright?”

୨୧ his warm breath dancing across your face as you give him a light nod

୨୧ his eyes suddenly move to your lips and out of his mouth comes the words you thought you’d never hear

୨୧ “can i kiss you?”

୨୧ and with a split glance to his lips you’re nodding fervently

୨୧ not soon enough his lips are on yours : plump, warm, and soft ~ tasting of the coffee and the mint gum he chewed after lunch

୨୧ you two pull apart reluctantly but he sets his forehead against yours as he catches his breath

୨୧ “please tell me you feel the same way for me as i do for you?” he whispers

୨୧ you bite your lip, “and how do you feel about me?”

୨୧ “like i want to hold you. kiss you. and come home to you everyday. not just as a babysitter.”

୨୧ “is that all?” you ask

୨୧ “i have a few other things i feel about you but i think it’s too early to tell you.”

୨୧ you link your arms around his neck and play with the stubble of emerald that is his undercut, “i wanna know.” you whisper.

୨୧ he’s like, are you sure…. you won’t think it’s inappropriate ?

୨୧ and you reassure him cuz little does he know of the countless nights you laid with your hand between your thighs imagining it was him getting you off

୨୧ “well uh- i-i really wanna fuck you.” he quietly admits

୨୧ you readjust your position to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of his thighs

୨୧ “how?” you ask

୨୧ “how what?” he replies as he tentatively places his hands lightly on your waist

୨୧ “how,” you start, leaning down to ghost your lips atop his, “do you wanna fuck me?”

୨୧ his breath stutters, something about those words coming out of your mouth

୨୧ he’s quiet for longer than you would like, “c’mon tell me” you whine, moving your lips from his mouth, down his jaw, and along his neck

୨୧ his breath quickens, soon letting out a low groan when you stumble upon his sweet spot

୨୧ you pull away causing him to almost whine, “start talking ~ tell me how you wanna fuck me.”

୨୧ “well f-first i wanna kiss all over you. your cheeks. your neck. your hands. i w-wanna feel your warm soft skin under my lips.”

୨୧ he pauses a bit but you urge him to continue

୨୧ “i wanna play with your tits. i wanna suck on your nipples. i’ve wanted to ever since you came in soaked by the rain that day.”

୨୧ as he gets more confident, his voice gets deeper, raspier, laced with lust

୨୧ “i wanna kiss all the way down your body until i reach that sweet pussy of yours, i’ve been dying to get a taste.

୨୧ you let out a low moan into his collar bone, “and then what?”

୨୧ “then after i’ve made you come on my tongue a few times, i wanna stuff you full of my cock. not stopping until i breed you. gave you a baby of your own since you’re so perfect with kiddo already.”

୨୧ “i wanna make you a mommy.”

୨୧ you gasp, your breaths coming out in short hurried puffs as you come up from sucking on his neck

୨୧ “so why don’t you?”

୨୧ he’s frozen

୨୧ “why don’t you fuck your child in me, daddy?”

୨୧ and just like that whatever submissive izuku moment you had going on, is gone

୨୧ he’s on top of you in seconds, squishing you into the couch cushions beneath you as he does just what he said he would do, and then some

yoooooo, happy belated birthday to the actual love of my life. i cried like three times over him yesterday. i hope he’s doing good.

also i’m not gonna sit here & pretend i know anything about how the japanese choose to name their offspring so that’s why kiddo is nameless

#bnha smut #bnha headcanons #bnha imagines #mha deku #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #deku smut #deku headcanons #deku #deku x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #izuku smut #izuku headcanons

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justmeandmyimagination123 · 2 years

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I. PART You can´t put him in the case (Newt Scamander x OC)

(As I said before, I am not a native speaker, and I am not good at English. That’s why I apologize for all the mistakes I have made. Anyways, hope you enjoy <3)

It was a bright summer morning. The sky was light blue with some fluffy white clouds covering it. People were hurrying past each other, and everything seemed almost too usual. Every one of them had tasks to do or needed to be somewhere on time. Women were wearing long dresses; men were wearing trousers. It was like an unwritten rule. But amongst them, a woman in her early twenties was running because she was getting very late for her class. She had never fit the rule and being the first woman to attend vet school was not doing her a favor. Instead of wearing a dress as a lady should, her outfit comprised simple brownish men’s trousers and a white blouse. She also didn’t mind putting some fancy shoes on. For her, some old black boots did just fine.

As Betty ran around the corner, she tripped over something small on the ground. It turned out it was a weird black animal that could be a platypus, yet it wasn’t. The woman had never seen anything like it before. And this was very odd considering she was a vet student. The little creature seemed to injure its paw. At that moment Betty already knew that she would be late because leaving the injured animal didn’t seem like an option to her. She kneeled on the ground and thought about how to hold it so it wouldn’t get scared. But at the very same time, a male voice interrupted her: ˝I see you have already found a company, Teddy. But I am afraid we are in a little hurry. So, thank you Miss…˝ ˝Betty. ˝ the woman who now looked up at the men answered. She noticed the mysterious man who suddenly appeared near her was very handsome and probably in his thirties. He had curly coppery hair and funny enough he was wearing almost the same outfit as Betty. What was strange was that he didn’t make eye contact with her, instead, he kneeled and started to observe Teddy. ˝I am afraid he is injured because of me. You see, I tripped over him and probably hurt him that way. But I can fix it I swear. ˝ everyone could hear the guilt in her voice. ˝No need to worry. I know the basics of healing. ˝ his voice sounded very gentle and to her surprise, he didn’t seem to be upset at all. Betty apologetically looked at Teddy and smiled at him. Before she stood up her curiosity took the better of her: ˝May I ask you what kind of an animal Teddy is. Because I am a vet student and I have never seen anything quite like him. ˝ He was thinking about what to say to her but couldn’t make up something clever enough that the woman before him would believe, so he simply said the truth: ˝He´s a Niffler. You probably haven’t heard about the species. ˝ What the hell was a Niffler. Could it be possible that she wasn’t paying attention in the class in which they had mentioned it? But as far as Betty’s memory could go, she couldn’t recall what a Niffler was. ˝Hmm… Your assumptions were right. A have never heard about it before. ˝ as she was talking, the men had already put the animal in the case. Before he wanted to say farewell, Betty looked at him in disbelief: ˝Why did you put Teddy in the case. He cannot breathe in there properly. He will die because of a lack of air. That is not right of you. ˝ She seemed so concerned that Newt almost felt sorry for her. ˝My case has holes in it so Teddy will be able to breathe˝ But Betty wasn’t buying it: ˝I am sorry, but I cannot agree with you on this. ˝At that point he didn’t see any other option. She kind of reminded him of himself. The woman was very stubborn when it came to animal welfare, he could see that. That’s why he reached for his wand and was about to obliviate her, but something intertwined. Buckles on his case were unbuckled and without any warning, another creature jumped out of it. In a jiffy, Betty moaned from pain, holding her hands in her lap. The creature bit her.

˝Oh…Just great. ˝ Newt whispered to himself and put his wand in his pocket. He quickly decided what to do since Dougal attacked her and she needed to be healed as soon as possible. ˝Miss Betty. I know how this will sound, but I can guarantee you that I am not a kidnapper…. Would you mind coming with me so I can take care of your wound? ˝ his voice was gentle. She hesitated before speaking: ˝If I am coming with you, at least tell me your name. ˝ He looked at her sideways, but they made eye contact for a brief moment. ˝Newt. ˝ He simply answered. Maybe it was the fact that his eyes met hers for the first time since their encounter or it was the poison in her body, but she felt like she could trust him. He picked his most valuable possession and beckoned her to follow him.

#fantastic beasts #newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #mugglereader

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ghstandpucks · 4 years

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Nothin’ Like You ~ Cale Makar

In honor of reaching over 200 followers, here is a song fic based on Dan and Shay’s Nothin’ Like You. I have a few requests in my inbox that I will be working on. If you have any, feel free to send them in using this prompt! Thank you for 200!!!

Master List

I remember when I first met you Sipping coffee in a corner booth You were twirling your hair And I just had to stare For a minute or two

Cale was with Tyson and J.T. after practice one Wednesday afternoon. The three of them decided to stop and get some coffee as it was a cold winter day outside. They were waiting in line talking about something E.J. had said earlier that day when Cale’s eyes landed on you in the back corner by a window. You had a cup of coffee and were staring at your laptop, completely oblivious to the world around you. He couldn’t help but stare as you wound and un-wound a strand of hair around your finger, every so often stopping to type something. Tyson kept talking as J.T. realized their defenseman was completely distracted by something. Following his line of sight, he chuckled. “See something you like? Or someone?” he chirped his teammate. Cale started to turn red as he looked away from you.

“I thought maybe I knew her,” he muttered. Tyson had stopped his monologue and was paying attention also now. He looked over as you had your head buried in a book, slowly typing something out.

“How did she carry all those books?” he asked with a slight laugh. Cale had noticed the numerous books you had scattered around the table. Didn’t people just do their research online now? “You like studious girls Makar?” Tyson elbowed him.

I was laughing at your stack of books Then you shot me that smile Hey beautiful girl, in your own little world Let me in it

“Man shut up,” Cale said turning on his friend. Unknowingly to them though, you had actually heard all the commotion. It was why you enjoyed doing your research in coffee shops; the garbled noises made it easier for you to concentrate. This doesn’t mean that you had heard what they said exactly, but who could really miss three hockey players walking into a small coffee shop in the middle of the week.

You looked up right as Cale was glancing back over at you. As you locked eyes, you sent him a shy smile and looked back down, trying to focus on your work again. Of course you knew who they were, all of Denver practically did. You were just an overstressed grad student with too many deadlines coming up though; he was probably just looking around the place.

The three of them ordered their coffees, and Cale noticed that you had looked sadly at your cup after taking a sip. He walked up to the counter and got the attention of the barista. “What did that girl in the corner order?” he asked, and was told it was a caramel latte. “I’ll take one of those too,” Cale said, paying for a second coffee. J.T. gave Tyson a look before he could say anything as they watched Cale walk over to you with two coffee cups.

You got all of my attention And you ain't even trying Yeah, you're my kind of different And I never seen nothin'

Nothin' like you

“Um hi. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought you could use this,” Cale said, announcing his presence at your table. You looked up, slightly startled as you had been engrossed in a thought you had while typing out your research. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled nervously.

“No, you’re fine! Sorry, I had a train of thought going,” you sputtered out just as nervous as him. “Thank you, that’s very kind. What do I owe you?” you asked, instinctively reaching for your wallet. Cale shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said, trying to think of what the guys on the team might say in this situation. “Your number maybe?” he made a face like he couldn’t believe he just said that, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Um, sure, yeah,” you squeaked out, writing your number on a piece of notebook paper and ripping it out to give to him. “I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself.

“Cale,” he said, taking the paper from you. He was about to ask what you were doing when Tyson called out to him.

“Makar, are you coming?” Cale turned toward his friends who had big, goofy grins on their faces watching the interaction. You blushed slightly at the thought of others watching you.

“I’m sorry. I’ll text you,” he stuttered out, putting your number into his pocket. You smiled softly at him and nodded.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you said and he smiled at you.

“My pleasure.”

Shades on spinning in a summer rain Dancing when there ain’t no music Just the right kind of crazy, baby

Cale had texted you like he said he would that same evening. You honestly weren’t expecting it, but felt completely giddy when you saw the unknown number and read his message. He explained that he would be gone on a road trip with the Avs for the next week, but would like to take you to dinner when he got back. You accepted and plans were made; the two of you talking regularly throughout the week getting to know each other better.

The Avs returned home on Thursday, and a few hours later Cale was at your apartment knocking on your door. He had brought you flowers and you couldn’t help but smile at the kind gesture. The two of you made your way to dinner, talking the whole time. He had just finished telling you a funny story from the trip, beaming at the giggle he had enticed from you when your food arrived. As you looked down at your plate, you started moving your head and shoulders in an excited fashion. “Are you dancing?” Cale questioned you with a chuckle. You stopped immediately.

“Oh my gosh, sorry. I tend to have a happy dance with food. It’s a weird family thing. I don’t even realize I do it until it’s pointed out to me,” you rambled on, face turning red. Cale shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry. I though it was cute,” he said in a low tone. You smiled and giggled nervously; Cale deciding then and there that he wanted to continue seeing that smile for as long as you would let him.

Something about you Rocking that rock 'n roll t-shirt Whole party dressed up But you just doin’ your thing Ain't nobody ever seen nothin' like you

You were working on your research the following Friday night, having the game on in the background. Cale had taken you out to dinner once more since your first date, and the two of you had been nonstop texting. The Avs had won, Cale scoring that night. After the game you were about to text him a ‘congratulations’ when your phone started to ring, the caller ID showing it was him. “Congratulations!” you said as you answered and heard him chuckle on the other end of the line.

“Thanks Y/N. Hey, what are you doing tonight?” he asked, and you heard a few wolf whistles behind him with muttered ‘shut ups’ coming from the defenseman.

“I’ve just been working on my research since I got out of class earlier. Why?” you asked, trying not to laugh.

“Come out with us. We’re all going out to celebrate,” he said in a more hushed tone, and you could imagine him trying to avoid the whole locker room from hearing.

“Cale, I would love to but I’m not dressed to go out,” you said.

“Who cares. Please? I would like you to come,” he pleaded with you ever so slightly. You looked down at your outfit, deciding it wouldn’t take much to put on some jeans quickly. Your Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt didn’t look terrible at least.

“Text me the address,” you said into the phone, and you could hear the excitement in Cale’s voice as he said he would.

When you're wearing them worn out jeans Purple untied shoestrings You're a light in the dark And you're stealing my heart like a gypsy

Showing up to the bar, you became a little self-conscious. Maybe you should have changed? The second Cale spotted you though, he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the room. The front of your band tee was tucked into your ripped black jeans, your white converse showing years of wear as they were no longer exactly white and the shoelaces were frayed at the ends. Cale knew you were probably stressed with your research, and yet you still had the softest smile and a sparkle in your eyes when you found him in the crowd. “You made it,” he whispered into your hair as he hugged you close. He felt you giggle into his chest.

“Couldn’t let you down,” you answered simply. Cale smiled at you and took your hand, leading you over to a table where some of the team was sitting.

“Coffee shop girl!” A slightly tipsy Tyson shouted.

“Oh my God,” Cale muttered as you giggled. You were introduced to everyone as you took a seat between Cale and someone he called Gravy.

“So what is your research on?” Gabriel Landeskog asked when you said you were a grad student at the University of Denver.

“The archaeology of Zoroastrianism,” you said, and caught many blank stares.

“Zoro what?” Andre asked.

“It’s an ancient Persian religion. Today’s modern practices of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism all have common ties to it,” you briefly explained.

“Wait, that was the religion Freddie Mercury practiced,” Sam Girard commented, looking interested. You nodded.

“That’s how most people have heard of it now,” you responded.

“What is your research trying to say about it?” he asked.

“So I’m basically writing a big literature review to make sure it is preserved in the archaeological record. It was the first dualistic religion in a time where civilizations had their pantheons to believe in. It spread with the Persian conquest, but no one they conquered was ever forced to convert to it. Now it’s a rare religion to come across, and their numbers keep getting smaller. With it being one of the oldest organized religions, it needs to be preserved and the traditions documented before we lose it all through modernization attempts.” To you, your explanation was simple and one that you had said many times whenever asked what you were studying. It seemed you had impressed the table though, and you slightly blushed as a few questions started flying your way. You didn’t notice Cale softly smiling at you while you talked about a topic that you loved so much; he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. His teammates noticed though, and boy were they going to give it to him at practice.

I love the way that you kiss me In front of everybody So baby come and kiss me They ain't ever seen nothin'

Nothin' like you

The following day at practice, the guys were giving Cale crap for how head over heels he seemed for you. The fact he hadn’t kissed you yet was another source of ridicule. Everyone who had met you ended up adoring you within the time span that you spent with them at the bar; and they could easily see that their defenseman was taken by you as his cheeks would turn red at the mention of your name. They were all happy for him, but that didn’t mean the chirping would stop.

They had another home game to play the following day, and Gabe convinced Cale to invite you and have you sit with Mel and Linnea. Later that day Cale went to your apartment and handed you his jersey, asking you to be there for the game. You couldn’t say no to him, not that you wanted to anyways. That Sunday you put on the jersey and headed to the stadium. Meeting Mel at the front, you quickly got along and enjoyed the game. The Avs came out victorious again, and you followed the captain’s wife to the locker rooms. You stepped aside as Gabe made his way over to his wife, feeling a little out of place. Luckily for you, Cale wasn’t far behind.

He didn’t know if it was from the guys comments or seeing you in his jersey, but one second he was smiling widely at you, then the next his lips were on yours and his hands on your waist. Without a second thought, you kissed him back, your hands holding his face to yours. You were both grinning ear to ear as you separated, chirps flying all around but all in good nature. Giggling, you hid your face in Cale��s chest as his face turned bright red.

Shades on spinning in a summer rain Dancing when there ain’t no music Just the right kind of crazy, baby Something about you Rocking that rock 'n roll t-shirt Whole party dressed up But you just doing your thing Ain't nobody ever seen nothin' like you, yeah

A year had passed and you were at the end of your grad program. You were set to present your research at the graduate fair, having been selected to present your research on behalf of your department. The Avs were scheduled to be flying back home that day, but Cale wasn’t sure if he would be there in time to see you present. You told him that it was fine, that you understood; and you really did. He was hell bent on making it though. You weren’t that surprised when you saw Cale sneaking into the back of the auditorium. What did surprise you was that half the team had followed him in. Having become good friends with them, they wanted to be there to support you too. As your name was announced, you swear you had the loudest applause.

You calmly presented your research, smiling at Cale when you finished and a few questions were thrown your way. Having worked so hard, the questions were simple to answer. Finding Cale afterward, he took your poster from you and the two of you made your way to his apartment so he could unpack from the trip. Changing into some leggings and one of his shirts, you showed him the bound copy of your 105 page thesis. He was so proud of you and couldn’t help but share the cover on his Insta story. The two of you cuddle and slept better that night then you had in a while. For him it was being back home with you, and you finally had the stress of your research gone since the first time you met him.

Nothin' like you Shades on spinning in a summer rain Dancing in the rain no music Nothin' like you Rocking that rock 'n roll t-shirt Whole party dressed up But you just doing your thing Ain't nobody ever seen nothin' like you, yeah

Once you graduated, Cale asked you to move in with him. You had secured a job at a museum as a curator in their Antient History section. Setting up an exhibit all morning, you met up with Cale at the same coffee shop you had met at two years prior later that day. “Sorry I’m late” you muttered to Cale as you found him. He smiled and gave you a quick kiss.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I already put your order in,” he said as you sat across from him, taking a sip of the coffee he got you.

“You know me so well,” you hummed with a giggle, the caramel latte tasting sweet. Cale grinned at you.

“Technically, your coffee order was the first thing I learned about you, so I better get that right,” he chuckled. “That and you seemed like a huge nerd.” You faked offense, but laughed anyway.

“It was all those books that got you. I knew my tactic of sitting in a coffee shop would work for me one day,” you winked at him.

“It did. I’d never seen nothing like you,” he grinned, reaching into his pocket to take out a small velvet jewelry box.

Never seen, never seen nothin' like you Ain't never seen anything like you Mmm Never seen nothin' like you

Tagging: @yeahcalesy @avsfans95 @tysojost

#nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #cale makar imagine #cale makar x reader #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

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One Summer In Paris ~ JJK ~ Three Little Words

WORD COUNT: 4.7 K

GENRE: Fluffy, romance, ex-lovers to lovers,

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

DESCRIPTION: Jeon Jungkook had always loved Paris with its amazing views, incredible museums and the small Bookshop right across from the Effiel Tower. It was were he spent a lot of his summer breaks as a kid so he loved it well into his adulthood. There was one bookshop he rented a room in the summer that changed his life. It was a place where he felt happy and at peace whenever he had the chance to stay there. Where he fell in love for the first time and had his first heartbreak, a lot of firsts for him were in Paris. But what happens when he goes back to the same book shop four years later and finds the love of his life in the arms of another with a daughter who looks suspiciously like him…

THEMES: Single Parent, Jungkook x Fem!Reader, self insert, Smut will be included in a later chapter

MASTERLIST || PREVIOUS || NEXT

The next morning you woke up early for the shop while Areum stayed in bed like she usually did whenever you opened up, instead of part-time work as you worked summers ago you were now running the shop full time and managing everything inside of the store since Grace to was far too old and busy to do any of it for herself. You carefully closed the door to your apartment before heading down the staircase to go and open the front door for Grace to come inside.

"Morning Madame Grace, you're here early." She hummed unapprovingly at you she must have remembered who Jungkook was but she was carrying a basket in her hand.

"I don't want any funny business with that boy, I brought this around for you and David later. He'll drop in after work," Grace stated as she looked at you disapprovingly, she made it no secret that she didn't like you and Jungkook together. Even the day he left you, she made it clear how much she hated him. You nodded taking the basket through the store and placing it into the small kitchen while Grace began making herself at home in the small shop. She still came around every day like she owned the place which was sweet since she was letting you run the place for her while only paying your rent.

"Are you staying here for the day?" You questioned her as you looked up from the basket and over at her, Grace was looking around the store before her eyes met yours. She'd been looking for any signs that Jungkook was there in the store and when she realises he wasn't there she answered your question.

"I think I'll stay here today. Watch the shop for you, Graham wants to go to the Louvre today." You nodded along with her as she began talking to you telling you what Graham - her husband - wanted to do for the day, the door to the shop opened and you glanced over your shoulder to tell whoever it was that you weren't open yet.

"We're not open yet-" You stopped when you saw Jungkook standing in the entrance holding a brown paper bag and a tray of drinks in his hands, he held them up higher to signal what he was there for.

"I thought I should bring some breakfast for Areum, I didn't know what she liked so I just got something of everything." Thoughts crowded your head of how sweet he was being with his daughter and you nodded slowly. Looking at Grace who was grumbling under her breath as she walked out of the shop telling you that she would be back later with David to watch over the shop for you if she and Graham were done for the day.

"I'll just lock the door and you can come and wake her up." You spoke softly and he watched as you let Grace out, then went to the staircase with him he knew where to go but since he hadn't been here in over four years it seemed wrong to go up the staircase without you. He kept his eyes on the steps as you walked in front of him in nothing but a black shirt and some denim shorts.

"Areum?" You called out knocking on the small door that led into her room, it was originally the walk-in wardrobe since the apartment you now lived in was just a studio apartment. You'd done everything you could to make the room livable for her and she seemed to love it.

"She's in the wardrobe?" Jungkook frowned looking at the door you were knocking on. The white door had a princess castle with her name written across it, he could already tell just how much his daughter loved the thought of being a princess.

"I decorated it to make it a bedroom, we got some dressers for our clothes instead, it's no longer a wardrobe." You told him as you slowly pushed the door open to reveal what the room looked like, he was shocked. It looked nothing like the wardrobe that used to be there, it was now a fully pink bedroom with a Princess castle bed where Areum was asleep in some Princess Pyjamas with matching sheets. The whole room had taken forever to perfect but you managed, with Grace's help as she drew out blueprints for the room to be fit for a small princess.

"She likes Princesses?" You nodded your head and smirked walking over to one of the wardrobes that were inside the room, these were all filled with her dress-up clothes and toys.

"She also loves Marvel and Star wars." You reached into the wardrobe pulling out a Kylo Ren outfit, then a baby Yoda toy that you'd recently gotten her. Jungkook smiled happy that she got his nerdy side as well and that he could bond with her on things that they liked.

"Areum, baby? Look who's here." You whispered softly going over to her and shaking her gently trying not to startle her too much from what you were sure was an amazing dream of hers,

"Five more minutes." She grumbled tugging at the bright pink blanket and pulling it over her head but you pulled it back down and tickled her sides. The girl didn't even move an inch, she was like a rock whenever he slept.

"She's like you, so hard to wake up." You grumbled, your daughter mumbled something in her sleep before rolling over to look at you when she saw Jungkook standing there, her eyes widened as she realised he'd come back like he said he would.

"You came back?" He nodded holding up the bag of food that he'd been carrying,

"I thought we could have some breakfast together." She immediately jumped out of the bed taking his hand in hers and began leading him towards the kitchen, telling him how she would make pancakes or something instead of whatever was in the bag. It didn't look the most appealing.

"Can we not burn our kitchen down? I have to go downstairs, Areum make sure you behave for your dad- For Jungkook." She nodded watching you walk out of the door she was making sure that you were gone before she turned back to Jungkook. She stared into his eyes taking on the confident look as she began interrogating him,

"Why did you leave my mum?" He almost choked on the air he was breathing hearing her ask him so bluntly about something and she stared at him waiting for an answer. Tapping her foot against the floor as she placed her hands on her hips

"Do you like eggs? Pancakes?" She stared at him as he avoided her questions, she wanted answers from him

"David makes my pancakes into the shape of Minnie Mouse...Actually, he makes them in the shape of blobs." Jungkook bubbled with anger at the thought of someone else making his daughter breakfast that wasn't him nor you. He didn't know who this man was and now he was finding out that he spent mornings with you both. His family, the love of his life and someone else was making you breakfast. His grip on the tray of drinks tightened so he placed them down so he wouldn't spill them.

"Does David make you breakfast a lot?" She nodded her head seeing no reason to lie to Jungkook. She was only young so she didn't see the big deal with David making her food.

"He's normally here every morning but he's busy lately." He hummed and began making pancakes for Areum making sure he was making them in the shape of Minnie Mouse for her just to prove that he was better than this David guy. Trying to push down the bubbling anger and jealously that was raising inside of him.

"Mummy! Mummy! Look!" You looked behind you on the ladder as Areum came running into the bookshop wearing a bright pink tutu, matching pink tights and a bright pink top and a tiara. You smirked as you climbed down from the ladder.

"Did Jungkook let you pick your own outfit?" You laughed looking as she began twirling around in circles and waving a small pink wand that she had in her hand acting as though she was casting spells around the shop.

"We're playing dress-up!" She cried out, spinning around in circles as the door to the shop opened and David walked through the shop in a pair of jeans and a white shirt holding up some flowers. Sunflowers and red roses were grouped together in a small bouquet, Areum stopped turning and looked at David giving him what you thought was a dirty look but you brushed it off, going over to David to greet him with a kiss. Areum was still giving David a dirty look but you couldn't think what her problem was, she normally loved him coming around.

"You're dressed awfully bright today, what are you doing?" He knelt down to greet Areum but she twirled away from him acting as though she wasn't bothered he was there.

"Me and my daddy are playing dress-up together." You froze as David stared at you, you'd never told him where Areum's dad was either and not to mention who he was. David straightened as he stared at you, wondering why you hadn't told him there was another man in the apartment right now.

"Her dad?" His voice came out cold as he dropped the bouquet down onto the counter, you swallowed the lump in your throat trying to come up with something you could say that would explain it in the most basic way possible. But before you could even think of something Jungkook came into the bookshop with his sleeves rolled up exposing all of the tattoos you'd never seen before including one of an eyeball you thought looked kind of like yours. It was the same colour as yours but it was common for people to have eye's tattooed on then, you shook your head trying to stay in the moment.

"O-Oh erm, Jungkook this is David, David this is Jungkook-"

"I'm Areums father," Jungkook cut you off as he tried to establish his dominance here. They shook hands but you could tell Jungkook was squeezing David's hand just a little as they stared into one another eyes as if they were having some kind of secret men-only conversation between one another.

"Where have you been? Y/n's been raising Areum alone for four years." David asked cockily as he tilted his head to the side. You stared at David as he said that and you stepped between them, splitting them apart so that nothing would happen. The tension in the air was thick, thick enough that you could cut it with a knife.

"I never told him I was pregnant, not that it's down to you to know that." You told him from the start of the relationship that he wasn't going to be like a father to Areum but to David, it felt as though you were defending Jungkook.

"What are you doing here anyway?" You questioned putting the step ladder away as Jungkook and Areum began to chase one another through the aisles of books, laughing and joking to one another. It was nice to see how close they'd grown over such a short time. You watched them both closely questioning what life would have been like if he'd stuck around with you...If he'd even have stayed if he had known you were pregnant with his child.

"Didn't Grace tell you?" Oh fuck. Your date, you'd forgotten altogether until he walked through the door. You were supposed to call in Audrey the part-timer that was working for you over the summer but you'd forgotten to when Jungkook came to the door that morning. Grace would be back later but that wasn't until later,

"I can't. Audrey isn't here and I can't leave Areum alone-" Jungkook came over after catching the end of your conversation,

"Leave her alone where?" Jungkook questioned, raising his eyebrow at you, you shook your head,

"David and I were supposed to go out but I was distracted and forgot to call in the part-timer or a babysitter." He shook his head looking at Areum who was now holding her head and sitting on the floor too dizzy from the spinning she had been doing. Jungkook chuckled softly looking at her and then back up to you.

"I'll watch her, shut up shop for a while. It won't hurt right?" You supposed not but you looked at Jungkook worriedly.

"You can trust me Y/n." It wasn't the fact that you couldn't trust it, it was just that you'd heard that from his mouth before which was why you were still nervous about it but you went against your gut and nodded.

"Thanks, you guys can sit upstairs while I go out. We won't be out late." David watched you as you walked over to Areum to tell her where you were going. He wasn't happy with the fact that you said you wouldn't be out late, he had plans he wanted to stick to with you. Jungkook took this time to look at David properly, from one look he knew he wasn't right for you in any way shape or form. David was boring, he looked like he led a boring lifestyle and had a boring job and he was clearly easily forgettable if you forgot you had a date. As soon as Jungkook saw you struggling to say no to going out he decided to offer his babysitting abilities. He would be able to tell how you feel about David when you came home from the date.

"What do you do for a living?" It was his turn to interrogate someone this time,

"I'm an accountant, why?" David snapped, Jungkook was smirking in his mind. The guy was easily wound up which wasn't good for him, Jungkook would use that to his advantage. Jungkook shook his head and leant on the counter, he still had many questions for David but he knew he wasn't going to be able to get through all of them since you were only with Areum.

"Do you want kids?" He began looking down at the bunch of flowers he'd brought along with him. It was a boring and plain bunch if it was Jungkook taking you out he would have brought an extravagant bunch and made sure you put them in water first.

"If you're asking if I like Areum I do, she's a wonderful girl." Jungkook stared at him and then at you as you came walking over wondering what they were talking about, David seemed tense and Jungkook was relaxed against the counter.

"I'll go and grab the basket." You mumbled, leaving them both as you went towards the back kitchen area.

"Where are you going?" Jungkook went back to questioning David as soon as you were out of earshot and he knew it was safe to do so again,

"Going to take her by the Tuileries garden for a picnic," Inside Jungkook was smirking as he remembered the time he took you there for a date it was one of your favourites places to go and he wondered how many other places you'd been to together with him that you'd been with David. Then he wondered if you'd thought about him while you were out with David if you even liked him enough to keep dating him. If Jungkook still had a chance with you.

"Ready?" You asked, coming over with the basket and looking at David who was staring intently at Jungkook. You frowned watching the two of them engage in, another, silent alpha-male conversation.

"Sure thing babe." He wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek, something David would never do with you. He was never big on public display's of affection, he regularly told you how disgusting he found it. That and he would never use a nickname with you like that because you told him how much you hated it. The only reason you hated it was because Jungkook was the only one you allowed to call you cute nicknames.

Sitting on the grass you looked around trying to ignore the thoughts going around in your head. You hadn't meant for this, you knew you were there with David but now Jungkook was back in your life you couldn't help but remember the last time you were here with him. The last time you'd been together here, the way you acted around one another.

"So I told Quinn that if he was going to make it such a big deal..." You were drowning out the boring joke he always told you and stared over at the trees where you and Jungkook had carved your initials into it, part of you wanted to run over and see if it was still there but you knew that you shouldn't. Not while David was there with you at least. You knew you should have been focussing on whatever David was saying because he was now looking at you as if he'd asked you a question,

"Sorry. I was just lost in thought, what?" He chuckled shaking his head at you and feeding you one of the grapes from the basket, it was filled with different foods. None of which you were hungry for, your brain was taking over with thoughts of Jungkook and Areum, how it would be to have a picnic with them instead.

"I was asking when Areums dad came back?" You looked down at the blanket and shook your head not wanting to go into detail about it all.

"Last night, he just sort showed up when I wasn't expecting it." He nodded going back to talking about himself as he always did and you stared at the blanket again remembering the last time you saw Jungkook like this. Walking hand in hand to go and put a padlock on the railings full of lovers padlocks, kissing at the top of the Effiel Tower, it had been the most romance you'd ever experienced in your life and you doubted you'd ever get that again. You only ever get one true love and for it it was Jungkook. Your gut sank as you thought about everything you'd been through together, the longer you thought about it the more David began to fade from your mind.

"We've never really spoken about us before..." You frowned at what David was saying, he'd just been walking in silence and now he was staring at you. You were walking side by side past the river near the shop together and he waited for you to ask what he meant.

"Our future." He said as he realised you weren't following along with what he was saying but as soon as the words left his mouth your heart sank. The truth was you'd never seen a future for you and David before, you weren't even sure you liked him as more than a friend and a friend was a push. He was so monotonous and uptight you thought he might crack if you ever told him about the things you and Jungkook used to do on days off. All the adventures you used to go on together. David's idea of an adventure was going to the Effiel Tower and travelling to the top.

"What do you mean?" You questioned dumbly as you tried to play it off as you didn't know what he was talking about. You didn't want to have this conversation. Not here, not now, not ever.

"Well, I mean...I have strong feelings for you Y/n and you've never put anything forward to suggest that back. We're together but we're not together." You knew what he meant, when you first started dating there had been something there but over time it just faded and now with Jungkook showing up your heart was at a crossroads. You'd never really wanted to date David it was just something Grace pushed you into. Telling you that you needed to get back into dating.

"I love you Y/n."

Walking into the shop later that day you found it to be silent so you walked up the stairs to the apartment, the sun was setting outside so it was too early for either of them to be asleep. It had taken you forever for you to convince David that you were tired and wanted to go back to the apartment alone. That you needed time to think over what he'd said to you and that you didn't need him to come back with you. You just needed to be away from him, all you could think about was Jungkook whenever you looked at him. Thinking about the first time Jungkook told you he loved you and how different it had made you feel. When Jungkook told you he loved you it was as if the whole world changed. You could have started floating on a cloud but when David said the same thing it was as if you were in a lead hot-air-balloon and heading straight to the floor. It was wrong to compare everything to Jungkook but it was the only example of love you had, it made you feel uneasy to be around David right now. The sad thing was that you were still madly in love with Jungkook and you knew you always would be no matter what happened, he was still the love of your life and the father of your daughter.

"I mourned for you!" Your daughter yelled out snapping you out of the daydream you seemed to be having. You frowned, walking into the living room to see them both watching Avengers on the big Tv, they were curled up on the sofa reciting lines from the first avenger's movie and you smiled at the sight of them.

"Does mother know you weareth her drapes?" Jungkook chuckled before looking over at the door to see you, he smiled weakly as he waited to see what had happened on your date. You were alone so it was a good sign that things weren't going well.

"How was your date?" He could already tell by the look on your face that you didn't want to talk about it and it filled him with hope at the thought of the date being bad. You clearly didn't like David a lot since you kept him at arm's length but something was different now, Jungkook could sense that something had happened on the date that was making you feel weird.

"Areum go and brush your teeth baby," She walked out of the living room not questioning it. It was still light out so she sat in the bathroom waiting for the all-clear that she could come out. Jungkook continued to watch you as he paused the movie frowning when he saw how you dismissed your daughter from the room.

"Did something happen?" You shook your head, you didn't need to tell Jungkook about the shit love life that you had when he'd probably danced in and out of relationships since being with you. It was clear over the years he'd had his fair share of women from what you'd seen in magazines, you weren't an idiot you kept up with the things he was doing in his life mostly to make sure he wasn't planning on coming back to Paris but there had been nothing about him coming this summer.

"No, we had a nice date, he walked me home and that was it." Jungkook laughed softly as he already had it figured out by the look on your face and the way you were trying to dismiss him now.

"He told you he loved you didn't he?" He scoffed, he knew how you felt about love. The first time you had a conversation about it with Jungkook you told Jungkook you never thought it could be real.

"Not that it's any of your business but yes-" Jungkook's blood began to boil again at the thought of you saying it back to him,

"Did you say it back?" You froze and Jungkook froze as he stared at you, realising that there was a possibility that you did love David, not that Jungkook could see any real reason why.

"You don't love him?" He questioned, his voice coming out softly as he looked at you. His body slowly un-tensed as he realised you weren't sure how you were feeling.

"I don't know." You mumbled, playing with your keys as you tried to avoid looking up at Jungkook.

"You don't know?" He quizzed,

"No," You answered blankly not wanting to get into this right now.

"No you don't love him or no you don't know?" He questioned quickly as he got up from the sofa. You wanted to scream at him so you just threw your hands up in the air giving up with this conversation physically,

"No, I don't know! I don't know if I love him," The door to the bathroom squeaked as it opened and Areum came out clutching a newspaper clipping with a clown on the front of it, you stopped being angry the second she came into the room.

"The funfair is in town tomorrow...Can we all go?" You looked at it, it was a Sunday so the shop would be closed for the day.

"I'll take you baby-" You went to say but she shook her head, looking at the both of you.

"I want dad to come to." Dad? That was a recent development that you weren't used to hearing coming from her. You stared at her in shock and then looked at Jungkook waiting to see what he was thinking about all of this.

"It depends on what Jungkook has planned, I doubt-" You tried to talk but Jungkook shook his head,

"I'll come, I'll go back to my hotel tonight and then meet you here in the morning." She grinned brightly hugging his leg as she got excited for going out as a family the next day. Though she would never tell you this out loud, going out as a family was something she'd always dreamt of. It would make her feel as though she had a normal childhood.

"Can you make the pancakes again, mum loves them in the shape of Minnie just like I do." He nodded and she ran off towards her bedroom and you shouted that you'd be in after letting Jungkook out first.

"You don't have to come back, don't feel forced about staying here." You whispered as you walked down the stairs to let him out of the shop, Jungkook knew what you were trying to do. Trying to push him away but make it seem like it was his idea instead of yours.

"I don't feel forced into staying. I want to spend time with you and my daughter...It'll be a nice day out, I haven't been to the fair since the one I took you to one." He mentioned your fifth date together and you smiled remembering how you kissed him on top of the Ferris wheel at midnight it was also the first night you'd spent together passionately.

"Okay, come by the shop same time in the morning and I'll make sure the door is open for you." You told him as he walked out into the street smiling at you as he pulled on a baseball cap and some sunglasses to keep himself hidden.

"See you in the morning." You nodded shutting the door behind him and locking up as you walked back to the staircase and thinking about David again and those three little words. They should have meant the world to you, every person in the world was dying to hear them from someone but it wasn't David you wanted to hear, say it. You knew that it wasn't David you wanted to hear it from but from Jungkook, you shook your head. Turning off the lights in the shop and headed up to your waiting daughter, ready to question her on how her day went with her father.

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bebepac · 3 years

Text

Derby Girl

ORIGINAL POST DATE: 05/12/21 at 7:22PM EST

This is The Life of Riley Book Two. To catch up with what you’ve missed so far, please click:

The Life of Riley- Book Two.

My Book 2 starts with basically TRR book 1 starts.

If you’re curious to see the elaborate back story I have created for my version of Riley Brooks Please click:

The Life of Riley Book One.

It will answer a lot of your questions that are left out of the Canon that PB wrote.

The Book: TRR

The Pairing: Liam x Riley

Word Count: 2011

Warnings: Sexual innuendo

Summary: Riley goes to her first derby. Liam and Drake make a bet (this episode has a few canon-ish parts. The most you’ll see in my series.)

Deena is my own character, all others belong to Pixelberry.

A/N: I’m on vacation as of yesterday until May 25th. I plan to do as much writing as i can in this time period. Hopefully release some chapters of people’s favorites and get back on schedule a little bit with some releases on things people haven’t seen in a bit.

Riley slowly opened her eyes.

She thought she had dreamed the whole thing. She was sure she would wake up in her tiny little apartment with Daniel. She sat up in the ornately designed bedroom.

She went to peer out over the balcony seeing the beautifully trimmed gardens.

I really have the chance to win a Prince’s heart. She thought. Last night dancing in the Maze with Liam was the most amazing feeling. Riley could not wipe the dopey grin she had on her face.

There was a soft knock on her door.

Maxwell appeared.

“Good Morning Little Blossom! How are you today? You look so happy this morning.”

“I’m great. I’m still so amazed by this place at times Maxwell. There’s just so much beauty here. And Liam is here."

“And you get to be a part of this Little Blossom, because of the way he feels about you. I see the way Prince Liam looks at you.”

“Then why can’t he just say it then?”

“Because that’s not how things are done here with people of his status. You wouldn’t only be only his choice, but the choice of the people and they have to love you too and they don’t know you. No one knows who Riley Antonia Brooks of New York truly is.”

Both Riley and Maxwell abruptly turned around to the voice of the person talking in the room.

Smile officially gone. Stolen by the rat bastard with the sneer standing at the door to her bedroom.

“Lady Riley meet my brother Bertrand.”

“The Duke of Ramsford.”

Riley decided since he went with such a formal title even though she was wearing her pajamas she should curtsy. He seemed stuffy and the antithesis of Maxwell.

He nodded. “The New Yorker can be trained to fit in here.”

Riley glared at him. “I’m not an animal Duke Ramsford.”

“That remains to be seen. If the Cordonian people do not fall in love with you, even though he could be Lady Riley, he will not choose you. Love is not the only thing that matters here. It’s honestly not even a factor here. Prince Liam has a duty to his people to pick the most suitable woman to be at his side. So you, my dear idealistic girl, must learn to give the people what they want. The derby today will give you the opportunity to meet the press for the first time. This will set the tone of how the people will begin to approve of you or disapprove of you. The Queen is also important here as well.”

“I think the Queen might potentially be on my side.”

Bertrand laughed. “You don’t know The Queen.”

“I met with her and she wasn’t rude to me. She was actually helpful when you think about it. She told me to get a feel for the audience that will be watching me and dress for them. I think that’s helpful advice.”

“You’re right, that is helpful advice.” Maxwell chimed in trying to release some of the tension.

“You need to get ready. Head to the boutique and make sure you pick something suitable.”

Riley almost didn’t want to go to the boutique after what happened to her the last time.

However, when she walked in, she was greeted by a kind middle-aged woman with a genuinely welcoming smile.

“And you must be Lady Riley.”

“I am.” Riley still had her guard up her voice and body language tight and protecting herself.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh?”

“I know that the last time you were here, you didn’t have the greatest experience with the staff, and I apologize for that, but if there is anything you need I will be more than willing to assist.”

“Thank you so very much.”

Riley smiled.

“It’s no wonder….”

“It’s no wonder what?”

“Why he’s so enchanted with you. Lady Riley you’re absolutely breathtaking, without a stitch of makeup, and you have such a kind-hearted spirit. I can almost feel it radiate off you. I was sworn to secrecy, because he couldn’t hide how he feels about you. Let me know if you need any help picking out something for him. You’re living your very own Cinderella story right now.”

It was the nicest anyone had been to her since she landed. Riley’s eyes filled with tears.

“Oh no, don’t do that dear. I know things have been a little rough for you. The royal life is not easy. They don’t only fight with words, they fight with glares and underhanded behaviors. But I’m here now. At least here, you will always be treated like the royalty I believe you will become someday. Now let’s pick out something beautiful for him.”

Riley thumbed through the racks.

"If I may? I did notice his eyes fall on this dress here. It looks to be your size, and that color would look like heaven on you."

"Pink is my favorite color."

"Then you should try it on."

This woman Deena, had made the palace boutique an oasis.

Riley tried on the dress staring at herself in the mirror.

"His face is going to be just as pink as that dress when he sees you. That dress was made for you. And since you're going to the derby try this as well."

She gave Riley a white hat.

The hat didn't quite stay on.

Riley laughed. "Big hair goals and hats don't generally mix."

Deena laughed. "This is true. I think Dolly Parton said it best, if someone tells you hair is too big. Get rid of them, you don't need that kind of negativity in your life!"

"That's a plan!"

“Thank you Deena.”

“You show them honey. You show them why he’s picking you.”

Riley decided to be the "Derby Girl" for the day she would straighten her hair. The hat laid perfectly.

“Little Blossom! You look amazing!”

“Thank you Lord Maxwell,” she responded as Bertrand walked into the room.

“Yes, she picked a suitable outfit to be seen in and for the media. We should be on our way.”

The whole duration of the ride Bertrand droned on about royalty, the queen, and the event and the Cordonian Ruby Apple.

“When you are done with your interview you’re going to go over to the pink tents to watch the race with the other suitors.”

“Greaaat. Will Prince Liam be dropping by?”

“Probably not, you’ll see him at the picnic afterwards.”

“You got this Little Blossom!”

Riley managed to stay cool and calm while talking to the press. The press deemed her “The Mystery Woman” based on her answers. It was fitting she thought, because a lot of her life, even for herself, was a mystery to her. All the missing memory gaps she had of her life before the accident, at times, Riley felt she barely knew herself.

She looked for the pink tents not seeing any, but when she turned she saw Drake heading toward a tent. She quickly followed him, leaping inside.

The Prince jumped to attention, his jaw locked, his body rigid, and his face stern. She realized what she had done. He had probably been trained for surprise attacks, and he had to always be alert.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t think..” Riley whispered.

The prince visibly relaxed.

“No, on the contrary it’s a very welcome surprise. How did you manage to get in here?”

“Playing a game of following the leader.”

The beer Drake was about to drink she pulled from his hand.

“Thanks for the beer Drake, you're too kind.”

Drake looked like he wanted to say something, but he remained silent.

Liam lightly cleared his throat.

“I’m going to….”

“You don’t have to….” Riley started to say, but she saw the look in Liam’s eyes.

“Bye Drake.” She whispered, her eyes not leaving Liam’s.

Drake walked out letting the tent fall closed.

He pulled Riley to his lap, softly stroking her hair.

“You look beautiful. But you know I love your curls.”

“I know. I would have had a wardrobe malfunction otherwise if i didn’t straighten it. My hat wouldn’t fit.”

“You would have been just as beautiful without it.”

“I know but it’s the derby and Bertrand was making such a big deal about the derby and looking appropriate. And even though I know nothing else about derbys I know next to the horse race, number two is woman in hats. Your hat game must be on point. Serious hat-age.”

Liam laughed, tightening his grip around her.

“Lady Riley, no one makes me laugh like you do. I’m always so happy when you’re around. Not just the things you say, or the way you look at me. It’s who you are, that radiates off you, and I just feel it wrap around me.”

“And what does that feel like?”

“You feel like sunshine Lady Riley. Sunshine on a summer day. The perfect summer day. When you close your eyes and just feel the sun warm your skin, and you are so content to just.....be in that moment. That’s how I feel when we are in the same space together.”

She softly kissed his lips.

He began another kiss, but then pulled away too soon. “As much as I would love to see where this could go, we have to at least watch the race.” Riley slipped off his lap into the seat next to him as he opened the tent.

Drake came in a few minutes later with new beers.

Riley was silent, listening to Liam and Drake talk about the race and their friendly wager, and how she got roped into it she’ll never know. She was going to be sitting on the back of the loser while they did ten push-ups.

“Who’s your money on winning the bet, me or Drake?”

Riley winced.

“As much faith as I have in you Liam, I think Drake might know more about horses and the stables. So my money is on Drake. I’m sorry.”

“Ouch that had to hurt Liam.” Drake chuckled.

Liam looked hurt.

“Did you want the truth, or did you want me to lie to you Liam?”

“The truth Lady Riley, always the truth.”

Annnnd…. Riley was right.

Liam unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it on the empty chair.

He got into a push-up position.

“Lady Riley if you will.”

Riley hopped onto Liam’s back. Even though he was surprised he still held a tight planked push up position.

“Lady Riley!”

“God she’s ruthless, are you sure you want this one?” Drake laughed.

“I’ve been on him before, I knew he could handle it.”

Liam choked back a laugh for a moment, his form unwavering.

“She’s right, I can handle her.”

“TMI Brooks!!!”

Liam easily did all ten push ups unbroken.

When Liam was done he put on his dress shirt again.

“Drake will take you back to the other suitors for a late lunch.”

“A sweet little goodbye kiss to tide me over until I'm in your presence again?”

Riley seductively puckered her lips, tapping her index finger against them.

Liam glanced around and pulled her to him kissing her. Her fingers gently tugged his hair as his kiss deepened and his grip tightened around her.

Drake dropped her off with the other suitors.

“I can’t believe we didn’t even get to see Prince Liam at all!” Lady Penelope's voice rang out in annoyance. “I had the best story to tell about my poodles to make him laugh.”

“Where were you Lady Riley?”

“I got lost again. All these places around here look the same. Drake found me finally and brought me over here to you guys.”

“Lady Riley you need to get it together. Being late because you got lost won’t look well for you with the media.” Lady Kiara shook her head.

“I’m not sure I believe her.”

Olivia stepped up to her staring into Riley’s face.

“Why would I lie? You saw Drake drop me off here right Liv?”

“I saw, but something feels off. I don’t trust you Lady Riley. Something is afoot.”

“Well, then I guess it’s game on then, Scarlet Duchess?”

“Yes. Game on.”

Tags in the comments!

#bebepac writes #the life of riley #book two #riley goes to cordonia #trr fanfic #trr fandom #liam and riley #trr mc x liam #prince liam #riley brooks #riley origin story #trr riley #choices fic writers creations

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vydante · 4 years

Text

Restart | END | Avengers x Male! Reader

I am discontinuing my Restart series because I've simply lost creative juices for it. That's it, no elaborate or other reason. Anyways, I didn't want to just end it on the last chapter, and as someone who loves to overshare (especially if it's unsolicited), I thought some might like to see what drafts I had in plan, going chapter by chapter.

It goes up to Ch. 20 with additional bonus chapters, and chapters where I wasn't sure where they were going to be placed in the timeline.

If you have any comments, let me know! I'd love to read them :)

Here goes! Warning: very long, since the formatting is weird! The reader will be referred to as (Name) and "you", as in the story.

Right after Ch. 12 (Circumvention), are 2 special chapters (High Caliber Bullet) & (America's Sweethearts).

(High Caliber Bullet)'s basic plot was that Barnes, now # amount of weeks since the last chapter, has gained some freedoms and can now go out and about with either (Name) or DAHLIA for supervision (via his phone, and through the cameras everywhere).

In this particular chapter, he basically goes out for a typical grocery run with DAHLIA "accompanying" him, since before, he remembers (Name) telling him that "I won't always be there with you". But something bad happens! Wooo! (Maybe an attempted robbery, I didn't have the details sorted out yet.)

Either way, DAHLIA loses contact with him, and she tries to contact you ASAP, but it takes a little while since your dumbass was asleep the whole time! Wow! The suit had to manually power on and shake you awake.

Anyways, the only thing I had "written down" after that was that, after a failed search attempt for James, you go back home and are greeted with a surprise... "Kabedon"? Or, you're pinned to the walls by James... Or, rather, the Winter Soldier!

You're not sure what's going on, only that, "Wow, Barnes is acting weird. Why is he suddenly Russian? Wh- Okay, wow, he's suddenly gotten a lot closer. Now, wait a fuckin' minute-!"

Either way, you and James make a discovery of a second personality living inside his body- the Soldier! Or Winter, I'm still unsure which I would have gone for. If you're familiar with certain WinterIron tropes, this is one of them. Anyways, that's the end of that chapter, or what I had written so far, anyway.

This chapter is really important to the canon of Restart since it establishes Soldier, but it didn't fit into my initial plans of 10 chapters an arc, so. That's why it's a "special" chapter.

The next "special" chapter after that was (America's Sweethearts). I had written 2 "chunks" of text for this chapter. The main plot is, basically, you and Steve spent a platonic (promise!) Valentine's Day together. Hence the title. Cute, right? This was referenced in Ch. 9 (Revelation) during Future! Steve's reminiscing.

Anyways, below the next text is what I had written for that chapter. It will be in normal text.

No other thoughts on that, so let's move on.

"You live like this?"

In his defense, Steve's apartment wasn't messy in the slightest. In fact, it was the other way around- everything was too clean, too pristine, too detached. The only saving grace he's getting from standing in the middle of his apartment is the fact that compared to the chilly Brooklyn weather, it was almost obnoxiously warm in his apartment.

Not only did he have the heater going on, but he had another separate, portable heater blasting hot air in the corner.

(Sometimes, and only sometimes, Steve will stand in front of the heater and slowly spin around like a rotisserie chicken. The heat feels good, in his defense.)

The heat was something that you, thankfully, didn't comment on as you shed your jacket and slung it around the coat hanger near the door. You're wearing an over-sized tee- Thor's tee, he absentmindedly notes- and some sweats, both like and unlike the (Name) he often sees.

(It's not uncommon for Steve to glance at a newspaper or TV still shot and see you with your hair slicked back and dressed head to toe in a suit so expensive he's confident it costs at least a few years' worths of a typical New Yorker's rent.

Neither is uncommon to see you on the front cover of Men's Magazine, wearing a simple tee that shouldn't look that good on you but still does and posing confidently for the camera.

But despite all that, all of the clearly flattering outfits you could possibly wear at the tips of your fingers, often Steve will see you wear a disparagingly obnoxious, dirty shirt, and an old pair of sweats as your go-to outfit.)

(No, he will never admit that he really likes seeing you like that. Even with the mysterious smudged substance often found on the bottom of your sweats, as if you had swing danced in mud and crude oil.)

Regardless, while he often questions your private life fashion choices (and this is coming from a man who willingly wears khakis), he at least knows why you're wearing what you are, given the fact that he's also dressed in an overused tee and some joggers.

"What's wrong with my apartment? Not up to par with your penthouse standards?" Steve jests.

"Steve. Please." You threw him an unimpressed glare, much to Steve's never-ending amusement.

You glanced back to the inside of the apartment and squinted at it with what Steve could only describe as a rich man's scrutinizing gaze, before shrugging nonchalantly. You strolled into his apartment with a confidence Steve can still never get used to, one that reminds him so much of Tony's, and even Howard on his bad days.

(He understands why Tony doesn't like it when he brings Howard up, as he belatedly realizes that Howard didn't die the same man he knew him as, but he never understood why you've suddenly gotten bitter about Howard as well.)

He follows you into the hallway, and if it weren't for the fact that this was his apartment, he would've looked like a lost puppy following its new owner.

His apartment's not really that big, so it doesn't take long before you've both reached the living room. A simple TV, simple couch, simple table. Nothing really exciting in his living room, but it serves its purposes, in Steve's opinion.

(This is the end of that chunk. Next is where I picked up in writing. Short time skip, they both fall asleep and now Steve's waking up.)

It was the change in the smell that woke him up.

It's always the scent of fresh linen that greeted him early in the morning, something that's become so attuned to his everyday life. So when, instead, popcorn and sweets drifts his way, for a brief second his heart rate jumps.

'What?', his mind asks as he opens his eyes, bleary but cautious.

'Oh,' his mind responds back at him when his eyes drift down to your sleeping form laying splayed right on top of him, body glued to his side. You're mainly hogging the blanket, but he doesn't really mind as he runs hot 24/7.

'Oh', his mind repeats softly, as something deep unfurls from his stomach and rises to his throat, clenching up and unable to say anything as his eyes fixate themselves on your steady breathing. Your lips are too close to his neck, each breath too warm, even for him. His skin burns where it meets yours, and absently he thinks, 'this is nice'.

'Yeah,' he lifts his hand to brush away a strand of hair away from your eyes, 'This is nice.'

Steve blearily throws a glance at the clock on his nightstand. 4 more minutes until he'd typically wake up and start his day with a morning jog.

'No,' his body protests.

'Okay,' his mind agrees without a fight.

He carefully reaches over and presses the silence button on his alarm. Above him, a breathy exhale escapes your lips at the sudden movement, and if possible, you curl closer to him than you were before. He pauses, unsure if you're going to wake up or not, but relax when he realizes that you're still in a deep slumber.

(Another break. Next sentence was supposed to be the final sentence of the chapter.)

In the end, neither of you commented about how Steve had missed his daily morning run as his limbs were straddled in between yours.

Ch. 13 (Upheaval) and 14 (Airlocked) are short in terms of drafting, so I'll combine them into one section here. Ch. 13 (Upheaval) was about taking down SHIELDRA in a better manner than the mess that was CA:TWS. And (Name) also forces Steve and Natasha to fess up immediately about Tony's parent's murderer. ((Name) threatens them.)

As for Ch. 14 (Airlocked), it's pretty much a filler chapter of sorts. (Name) graduates, there's now an official class-action lawsuit against Ross, also now keeping an eye on Baron Zemo, and we see some progression on Barne's therapy session. Not much, but some.

I really was not looking forward to these two chapters, as I knew they were gonna be boring as hell.

Ch. 15 (Spiralling) has actual written chunks. It's basically about the early prevention of Ultron. The Avengers go to a Sokovian HYDRA base, take out baddies, and the Super Twins get captured first- wow! But not before Wanda does... something to (Name), causing you to hallucinate and lose contact with the team- uh oh!

But don't worry! You get run over by a car. Lol. Below is what I had written for it, sans minor text.

A/N: In Ch. 7 (Summer), there was a 'dream-sequence' that happened where (Name) was on Titan with Tony, Peter, Stephen, and the GOTG. I've now decided that in canon, (Name) was not on Titan- instead, you were on Earth instead during IW helping at Wakanda. Just a brief plot-hole wrap-up; let's imply that (Name) had watched video footage of the fight at Titan via Tony's suit afterward, and that's where the nightmare came from. Okay bye.

(VERY abrupt start into the story, not meant to be the start of the chapter in the final draft, just where I wanted to start writing. Intro to Wanda.)

You jerked your head, catching a glimpse of brunette hair in the corner of your eyes. You swung your gauntlet instinctively and made instant contact with whatever was next to you. Flutters of red wisps followed your eyes, and you instantly knew what just happened as a body dropped next to you.

You grunted and leaned onto the nearest wall, watching the girl's limp body with caution. Your shoulder plate lifted, and a tranquilizing dart connected to her thigh.

Just in case.

"Guys, I- I've been- ugh..." You wanted to vomit, the pounding in your head worsening with each millisecond that passes. Already, your surroundings distort you with each blink, walls melting and the floor sinking in on itself. "I've been- com-," you swallowed back your bile, "-compromised... Sending- location... Ergh..."

You didn't even have enough time to hear a response before the whole world around you shifted. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm your thundering heartbeat. The pounding got worse as the armor around you dissipated into nothing but the under-suit you were wearing. Before, where there were the shouting and gunshots, is now replaced with an eerie silence filled with just your laborious breathing.

You didn't know the full extent of what visions you were about to see, but you needed to remember that none of this is real. Scientifically, that was your only safe haven from possibly losing your mind for what's about to come. And it was worse because you had no idea what visions you'd see. Would you see Thanos? The Chitauri, just like your father once had? Or would it be something more close to home; the bunker? Tony's dead body, splayed with vomit around him, frostbitten to the touch and still like a marbled statue?

Ready to go up and arms at whatever it was you're about to see, you cautiously opened your eyes.

(Line break, there's meant to be an "oh shit" line, like "Only, you were met with eyes far too similar to yours." but I still didn't know what I wanted to do for the hallucination sequence. Maybe meeting an older you, a younger you, or your dream life without the Avengers or meta-humans.)

(Below is an abrupt shift in the story; same general setting, but outside POV! What I had was dialogue only, alternating between people in bold, as a POV switch.)

(Name) "Guys, I- I've been- ugh... I've been- com-compromised... Sending- location... Ergh..."

(Steve) "Apex, do you copy? (Name)!"

(Steve) "Shit, (Name) isn't answering! Tony!"

(Tony) "Got his location, he's inside the base. J.A.R.V.I.S., what's his status?"

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I'm sorry, Sir, but it appears that I am not in contact with his suit."

(Tony) "Wha- the hell do you mean you're not in contact?!"

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I cannot connect to his suit; it appears that Young Sir has somehow deprogrammed me from his suit."

(Tony) "Wha-!"

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "However, it seems as if there is an A.I. present nonetheless. Though..."

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I do not recognize the code. Would you like me to attempt at forming a mode of communication?"

(Tony) "Yeah, just- God, make sure (Name)'s okay, please."

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "On it."

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "Establishing a connection."

(DAHLIA) "Mister Stark?"

(Tony) "Wha- I'm sorry- who are you?"

(DAHLIA), ignoring Tony, "An enhanced got to (Name). The operative is down, but (Name)'s experiencing hallucinations. I can't get through to him- you need to get to him, now. I fear he may hurt himself more than he already has."

(DAHLIA) "And if I may be privy to a request?"

(Tony) "What?"

(DAHLIA) "Don't bring Rogers." (I don't remember why I wrote this bit.)

(Steve) "Any updates on (Name)?"

(Tony) "Yep, and by the looks of it," there was a loud boom coming from the base, and as Tony looked up to see an all too familiar suit fly out of the building. Or, rather, flying was an interesting way to put it- it was more of a free-falling more than anything else.

(Steve) "What was that?"

(Tony) "That was (Name), and he's not havin' a great time I'll tell you that."

His voice was light and joking, but he'd be lying if he didn't say that his heart wasn't in his throat by the sight of you flying out of the building and falling back into the forests.

(Line break, another POV switch)

Steve sprinted towards the loud boom, movements quick and calculated, but mind racing a thousand miles an hour. He saw a red and gold glint fly up above him, zipping in and out between trees gracefully.

(Line break, but no switch, same place. Another story POV shift, sort of. Steve makes contact with (Name), or so he thinks.)

"(Name)? Hey, do you copy?"

The suit was eerily silent, glowing eyes that once gave comfort to the soldier now bringing nothing but an awful, gripping dread; one that he'd get when there were Nazi soldiers nearby, but he couldn't tell where even with his enhanced senses. The suit gave away nothing that usually screamed out everything that was you- no head swaying, no restless and constantly shifting feet, only a stillness that looked so unnatural. Almost as if there was no one in there.

"(Name)?"

There was no response from you.

The hairs on Steve's neck stood up, everything in his system suddenly screaming to get out of there, run, leave, get away from the suit, but he ignored it as he took a cautious step forward.

Again, you didn't seem to react.

Then, the suit took a step forward.

Then another one.

And another one.

"(Name)-"

Before he could say anything more, the suit lunged forward. Only for a moment could Steve react, but even he wasn't as fast as you could be when you're in the suit. He raised his shield, ready to be shot at, but only the sound of harsh metal on metal makes it to his ears. By the sounds of it, it sounded like Tony had managed to land a direct hit on you, from wherever position he was at. Cautiously, Steve lowers his shield to look.

But instead of the familiar red and gold suit of armor greeting him, it's the sight of two (color) suits wrestling on the ground with each other that manages to sucker-punch all air from his lungs.

(Basically, you went bat shit insane and got out of the older suit, then prematurely activating the nano suit instead, in a fit of panicked hallucination. The older suit, now operating by DAHLIA, was trying to protect Steve from being ambushed by (Name), and now they're wrestling.)

(Another big break, but I think I had a hallucination sequence from (Name)'s POV planned here. Not sure what I was gonna do here since I planned this like, maybe in 2018, early 2019. It's... 2021 now...)

"-(Name)!"

Your eyes widened as the world around you suddenly shifts out of existence, and instead, you're outside in the dim, snowy alps once again. Someone called out to you, you don't know who, but there's a light in the corner of your eyes that's so goddamn bright. You turn your head in the direction of the light, and amidst all of the yelling and gunshots, DAHLIA's cool, chilling voice rings the loudest in your ear.

"Aborting protoc-"

And then the world turned black.

Ch. 16 (Enflamed) also has written text. Basically, you're recovering from being caught slipping by a car, the team is now aware of certain secrets you've been keeping behind their backs, and you realize that you have to get back to Barnes to let him know you're okay.

This chapter was meant to be focused on the twins, but I guess I forgot that as I was "writing" it. Basically, the gist was that their parent's deaths weren't by officially licensed Stark tech (maybe even a counterfeit since Stark weapons are the best, and don't malfunction as it did in WandaVision ep. 8). Maybe HYDRA was the one that did it in order to recruit more people. Or something like that. Basically, Tony wasn't the one who authorized those weapons to be sold and used there, but it was Stane. Either way, they get their own healthy moment to mourn and lament over it all.

Here's the text below. Italics for a dream sequence, since you were unconscious/ in a coma from being bOnked on by a car.

"Hey, sweetheart."

You smile, turning around to face the voice only to be greeted with lips on yours. You chuckle, amused that this was the first thing you'd be greeted with, but lean into the kiss anyways as you wrapped your fingers around their cheek.

They pull back first, but their eyes are warm as they smile, lingering in the space between the two of you. Where their hands laid on your hips, your skin burned bright hot, but you paid no mind to it.

(There's supposed to be more, maybe foreshadowing, but I stopped here in terms of the dream sequence. Jump cut to another POV, but you're waking up!)

(Name) "Hnng..."

(Steve) "Stay down! You're in no condition to move at all, just- just rest, okay? The doctors- and- your dad are coming."

(Steve) "How're you feeling? You want some water?"

You tried to turn your head to look at the blonde but hissed suddenly.

(Name) "S'nnof'a' b'ch..." (Son of a bitch.)

Steve helped you settle back onto your pillow- which even he'll admit doesn't look like the most comfortable setting in the world.

"Language, (Name)..."

He reprimanded, but there's no heat in his words as he's just so thankful that you're even capable of forming any words, no matter how profane they may be.

Beside him, Clint laughs a bit too loud for comfort. Steve wants to tell him to be quiet, as he's sure you're sensitive to noise right now, but God he can't blame the archer for his overwhelming relief.

Lord knows Clint wasn't the only one to stress over their youngest Avenger.

"First words after a damn coma, and it's 'son of a bitch'! I told you he's a fighter!"

"Of course he is, he's a Stark after all."

All eyes turn to see the billionaire and assassin walk into the room. They look clean and pristine as always, but by the slight sheen of sweat on both of them, Steve knew they rushed here as soon as word spread that you were awake.

(Natasha) "Tooting your own horn a little much there?"

Natasha's smile betrays her words as she looks fondly from the senior Stark to the junior. Even the ironclad wall she has up 24/7 has a soft spot for the team's junior member.

(Especially for the junior member, but you didn't hear that from Steve.)

(Tony) "It's both of our horns, excuse you."

Tony turns his attention to you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"You sure took a hit back there, champ."

"Mmm... 'm feel like a... Nn... A damn Make A W'sh kid...", (Mm, am feeling like a damn Make A Wish kid...) your eyes, though blown out from still being drugged up, wandered across each Avenger. You frowned, then smirked- well, as best as you could, anyways.

"Where's th' Hul'k? T'or?" (Where's the Hulk? Thor? (As a joke, since usually the whole gang visits, but they're missing))

"Relax junior, you're not that special. We can only afford so many Avengers to visit you."

Despite his harsh words, Tony places a kiss right on your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed, lashes delicately batting as Tony leans away.

(Big block of nothing, there were supposed to be more text here, more dialogue or something. Same setting!)

(Tony) "So. We need to talk about what happened back there. Y'know. The brand-smackin' new A.I. that's in your suit- she's been awfully quiet. Oh, and the- lord, the thing's a work of art- the- what is it? Nanite suit? That's in a collar- a collar? I mean, I'm not one to judge questionable fashion statements, but-"

(Steve, or someone else) "Tony."

(Tony) "Right- but, we are going to talk about all that, okay?"

"L'ter, ple's? Am tir'd..." (Later, please? Am tired.)

"An' b'sides, chok'r's fun..." (And besides, chokers are fun.)

(Line break, basically, you remember you have a certain Winter Soldier that's been sitting at home without any word from you.)

’Oh fuck.’

(Big line break, basically, you get discharged from the hospital, and now you visit the safehouse Barnes is in to check up on him.)

It was eerily quiet when you opened the door to the safe house. You limped into the door, thankful that the ride on the way back, there were no paparazzi to see you leave at all. (Really, Happy should get a raise.) Lord knows how much of a rile that'll get out of the news media.

'Avengers' Golden Boy: Fatally Injured?' or something dumb like that.

You'd love to roll your eyes, but the tension that's coiling up in your gut surpasses the want as you slowly step into the house. It's warm, more so than the slow brewing chill that's been tempering outside. James never liked the cold, but even so, the house was warmer than you remembered. His shoes are still near the doorway, in the exact place that you remembered it to be, so he definitely hasn't gone anywhere.

(Though, the alerts that were on your phone from DAHLIA definitely show that he wanted to.)

For a brief moment, you were concerned that there wasn't enough food; but even then, DAHLIA would still be up, so she could place an online order to refill the fridge at a moment's notice, so it's not like James (even with his super-soldiered appetite) would starve himself here.

You quietly slipped out of your shoes, slowly as to not incur another cramp in your back, and stepped into the hallway barefooted. You glance into each room you pass by, but not a single sign of the soldier was anywhere to be found.

You stopped when you stood in front of one specific lounge room; yours and James' favorite lounge room.

Lurking into the room, you glanced around.

The room looked exactly like how it did days before when you were still conscious. There are a few mugs strewn about. Most empty, conjoined in one area of the table (James' area), but there's one that's filled with your favorite drink. A drink that you don't remember making for yourself.

And it's placed right in front of your favorite chair, too. Something squeezes at your heartstrings as you couldn't help but smile fondly.

It's gone cold, you absently note as you dip a finger into it. Wiping your finger on your pants, you grabbed it and the rest of the empty cups, making a note to place them into the dishwasher when you make it into the kitchen.

"James?"

You called out, but only your voice echoed back. The cups quietly rattled with each step, and it's not long before you make it into the kitchen. It, too, looks the same, but there's a thin layer of dust only a clean freak would notice. The sink is empty and clear of any beads of water. Unused for a little bit, you concluded.

Yeesh.

You placed all of the cups into the dishwasher, which was also dry and empty as well. Sighing, you turned on the machine and jumped out of your skin when you felt a pair of built arms wrap themselves around you tightly.

It only takes a split second for you to realize that, no, this is not some ax murderer that's about to choke the life out of you, it's just James.

James who, apparently, is holding you flush against his chest, fingers curling themselves against your bandaged abdomen. You held back a wince of pain, careful not to make your breathing waver, as James nuzzle his whole head against the crook of your neck.

(Honestly, for someone named the Winter Soldier, he sure is warm because whew, boy-)

"Ja-"

"I thought you were gone."

His name is caught in your throat as James' voice- gritty, deep, unused- rumbles into your skin. You freeze, unsure of what to say to that as you shuddered, suddenly breathless as he mouths at your neck. Your ears turn bright red as he takes that moment to speak up, not once letting up on his fingers ghosting a trail on each muscle on your abdomen.

"You were gone. One second you were in my arms, and the next... The next, DAHLIA's tellin' me you're in a damn coma."

You winced, not sure how to respond to both what he said or the growl that accompanied it. You looked up at the camera that was in a nearby corner and threw it a withering glance, feeling slightly betrayed by DAHLIA for telling James that.

Thankfully (or probably not), James isn't really looking for a response as he continues on.

"Моя звездная пыль (My stardust)," Russian slips out, bringing a chill up your spine as bits of Winter spills out from James' fingertips, "The witch got to you, didn't she?"

Goosebumps raised on your skin, and to your silence, James snarled. You can barely feel his teeth graze on your nape, and you really don't know if you should feel embarrassed or something else.

And wow, okay, maybe you should tell James to ease up on the "hug", because holy shit, his grip's getting tighter and it's starting to actually hurt.

(Ah, he might tear the stitches.)

"HYDRA сукa...! Я убью ее...!" (HYDRA bitch...! I'll kill her...!)

You huffed, still red in the face as he hasn't even nudged away from letting you go. You patted his forearm, signaling for him to loosen up his grip, and to his credit, he does. Barely, but it was still something.

"I dunno what ya' just said in Russian, but I know what Hydra сукa means. No cussing in Russian, only in English."

He mumbles something incoherent into your shoulder, rubbing circles into your stomach with a tantalizingly slow speed. You coughed; in literally any other situation this would be one of the hottest things you've ever experienced, but considering that James was more Winter than James right now, and your stomach is literally burning in pain from the rubbing, you opted to ignore the fact that you really liked that James was this close and spoke up.

"Not to alarm you or anything, but uh, if you keep rubbing my stomach like that," your breath hitched, the pain starting to become a little too much, "I'm gonna pass out from the pain," you said, with clenched teeth.

(End of what I had written down. Anyways, not sure where I was gonna go from here.)

Ch. 17-20 are relatively short in terms of what I had written down.

Ch. 17 (Reconditioning) has 3 things typed down:

integrating the twins, thoughts of integrating bucky

supreme distrust between you and the twins

meanwhile maybe thoughts from twins abt you? you're around their age

3rd bullet introduces the idea that they might be love interests. Maybe. Shrugs. That chapter would be heavier on the character developments of the twins, both as their own persons and their relationship with you, specifically. They don't like you because you're Tony's son, still some bitter feelings there, and you don't like them because... Well... there's just a lot of bad feelings. They helped kill J.A.R.V.I.S. in your original timeline. Wanda basically fucked off with Vision. She antagonized Tony. (And there is a hypocrisy there since I would've written you to have done the same thing there. (Name) isn't perfect.)

You just didn't get along with Pietro since, back when he wasn't dead, you were immature and not yet accustomed to dealing with people who're purposefully frustrating/ teasing/ mocking/ etc. Nothing really personal with him, it's Wanda that you had beef with. But you'll get over it one day.

Ch. 18 (Longstanding) is shorter.

you and james have a talk, and after a year or two being solitary, you agree that he should be in the avengers

he joins the avengers

That's it, that's the chapter.

Ch. 19 (Accountability) deals with newer Accords (not a Sokovian one! Just from the proposed need for accountability).

It goes better around this time, as basically all of the Avengers agree to it, with their own caveats of course. Steve especially, but of course, he's willing to work with the governments about it this time around. Also, Peter Parker gets introduced, in accordance with the "underaged enhanced/ superheroes" clause, or some bull like that.

Ch. 20 (Wakanda) is basically the intro to CA:CW but like, civilized. No bombing since Zemo still has his family. Introduces Wakanda, and T'Challa as a potential love interest. If you're interested in IronPanther, I highly recommend reading the IronPanther Collection by Okyverlo on AO3. It's great and got me a lot of interest in T'Challa as a love interest.

As for official chapters with the plot, that's about it. I wasn't sure what to do afterward.

There were some loose ideas I had about what would happen to (Name). Maybe the truth is revealed, that you're actually from the future, and Dr. Strange separates past and future you into two separate bodies. Future! you into your original future body, and past! you into the current body. Past! you still have the same memories and thoughts that future! you had, but with less angst. Future! you is noticeably more depressed and just a bummer. Lol.

And after that, 2023! you would go back to the future where you belonged, and Past! you would stay in the present since, duh, that's still Past! you's original timeline. It's a little confusing when I type it down haha.

I was thinking maybe 2023! you would pair up with Steve since you realized how burdensome it is to continue to resent someone. Now you understood what Tony meant.

And Past! you would definitely pair up with James, but maybe Steve too. A nice lil' polygamous relationship.

Now here's the other, non-official chapters.

2 What If's, and 3 Specials, in the order they're listed at the moment.

What If (2013 Counterpart) plays with an initial idea I had, where Past! (Name) was actually sent into the future into 2023! (Name)'s body during the prologue. Not sure where I was gonna go with this chapter, but I really wanted to mess with that possibility, and show just how immature and teenager-y Past! you were.

What If (Swapped Places) plays with the idea that you and Tony, in the original timeline, had swapped places. You were on Titan with Spiderman, Dr. Strange, and the GOTG, while Tony was on Earth with everyone else. That's all I had planned. Maybe you actually won and managed to get the gauntlet off of Thanos when you realized that Peter Quill was about to go crazy over his ex's death, and you knocked him down in time.

Special (Find My Body, Only At The Oak Tree), deals with you and your depression over the reality that you might have to relive the blip again, and aside from the Avengers, you really don't have anyone else and nothing's worth really living for at this point. I actually have a lot written for this one. Not sure if I wanted this to be canon.

Trigger warning: suicidal tendencies.

(Below is the general idea I had for the plot.)

(names) birthdays across the years so far

we see slow mental deterioration of (name) as he aches

we see as we reach closer and closer to the deadline, (name) dreads even thinking about thanos and wants to die before even looking at him, a symbol of their failure

lowkey highkey suicidal

___

The first time you celebrated your 17th birthday was in 2014.

The second time you celebrated your 17th birthday was also in 2014... Obviously.

The first time you celebrated your 17th birthday, the whole tower was flooded with people who you knew and people who you couldn't care to know. It was filled with what little was left of your friend group outside of the Avengers; it was also filled with the rich, the pompous, the irritating of New York.

You got into a yelling match with your dad that night, over something you couldn't even bother to remember, and stormed off into your room, fuming as the party still went on without their birthday boy present.

(It's always like that as if you're replaceable. Surely, you must be; the Avengers can and will, if need be, exist without you.)

The second time you celebrated your 17th birthday, you told your dad you wanted it to be small and personal. Only the Avengers were there, as a few days ago did you spend a pre-birthday celebration with some of your high school 'friends' (which only mainly consisted of playing Smash Bros Brawl in your room and eating an ungodly amount of junk food as you fake laughed along with their shitty jokes.) (Steve promptly made you burn those calories off in training.).

(What Steve doesn't know is that you purposefully ate that much to train with him; otherwise, you had the whole day off the next day.

You didn't want to be alone.)

It was sweet as everyone gave their gifts to you (which you already knew what it was, but said nothing of it), and as everyone got drunk off of the expensive liquor or Asgardian mead, you quietly snuck out of the building and back into the safe house where James was waiting for you.

(He waits, but how much of it is because he has no other choice?

It is not like that, you keep reminding yourself.

Who is to say, other than you?

James never says anything of it, and you start to wonder if he feels as if he has no choice.

As if he feels like he's been made another prisoner, once again.

At what point, what is separating the distinction between you and HYDRA, in his mind?

You're not too keen on finding out the answer anytime soon.)

The whole way there, you thought of nothing in particular.

You quietly celebrated with him too, shared a few slices of cake he made just for you before you quietly said goodnight to him. He kissed you on the cheek, said a simple goodnight, and slipped away into his own bedroom.

Meanwhile, you spent the rest of the night drinking too much alcohol, alone, in the dark of your room, staring at nothing in particular, thinking about nothing in particular.

The next morning, you jokingly wished you had just died last night as you're bent over the toilet emptying your stomach contents.

___

The first time you celebrated your 18th birthday, you spent it outside in another country with your friends.

The second time you celebrated your 18th birthday party, you rented out a bumper kart arena with the Avengers.

The first time you celebrated your 18th birthday, you tried desperately to hang onto the remaining friends you had outside of the Avengers, a chance to feel normal for once. You practically went hiking across Europe and into Asia over the week of your birthday, and by God did you visit so many places. From the Louvre to the casinos in New Deli, you trekked everywhere with your friends and acted as a cash pig for their endeavors under the guise of celebrating your birthday. Least to say, you always got 'accidentally' blackout drunk on multiple occasions, oblivious to their actions.

Later you found out and cut them off instantly without another word. They didn't seem to notice that you stopped talking to them.

It hurt.

Pointless of you to try to maintain that friendship.

So on your next 18th birthday, having long forgone those friendships ages ago, you suggested going bumper karting with the Avengers. Bruce operated as the 'coach' of sorts, but he seemed to have enjoyed it as well.

It was fun, obviously.

It went on for a few hours, as you all had made up mini-games to play along with as they got bored of chasing after each other aimlessly for half an hour. A few games had you pairing up with some of the Avengers; the other had them actually using their skills to try to maim each other.

(Wanda at one point lifted everyone into the air as Pietro zoomed through the rink; though, he did slip and slam into the wall. Everyone laughed, but it was interrupted as Wanda promptly dropped everyone out of shock.

Everyone was too busy in their own shock as well to notice your labored breathes, wild crazed eyes, or how you clawed viciously at your throat at the sight of Wanda's red wisps. Your fingers were tinted a sick vermilion.

Thankfully, the arena was relatively dim, so no one could tell what just happened.)

It was fun. Everyone didn't hold their shoves back, and when things riled up, it turned into who would break a bone first. No one did, but everyone was definitely sore afterward. Of course, the enhanced ones didn't limp as much, but it made your limp nothing out of the ordinary.

(You tried your most damn not to just collapse completely, both exhaustion and pain threatening to snap your spine into little bits and pieces.

You jokingly wished it did.)

Thankfully, during the whole ordeal, no one noticed how you didn't avoid obvious hits, instead opting to just get harshly jostled in your kart and neck snapped haphazardly to the side at the sudden jolt. Or how you 'accidentally' keep forgetting to put on your seat belt or keep your fingers inside the kart.

Or at least, if they noticed, no one said anything as you limped around the tower the next day, bruises marred everywhere on your skin, a sheen of sweat blanketed on your skin throughout the whole day.

___

The first time you celebrated your 19th birthday, you were too swamped with both college and SI to actually... Celebrate.

You didn't even realize it was your birthday. No one did, actually; it took one of your professors to comment on how your name was trending on Twitter to actually get you to realize what the day was.

But even that didn't change your schedule, and as you moved on with your day, so did Twitter and the Avengers.

You never got to celebrate your 19th birthday, too swamped with other things to care.

The second time you celebrated your 19th birthday, you had too much free time in the world.

It ended up being just like your 17th. The Avengers had a little get-together (they remembered this time; what made it so different?) and all of them got drunk wildly off their asses. Once again, you slipped away from the main lounge, and stalked silently, blank-faced, towards a balcony.

You adjusted your collar appropriately and stood there. You stared outside into the bustling busy streets of New York, the city that never sleeps.

(Strange, that it's named that when often times it's the quietest whenever you're there to see it.)

You spend maybe 10 minutes standing there, staring into the oblivion that is New York.

And then, you climbed onto the railings.

Standing there, there was no rush of adrenaline that coursed its way through your veins, nor was there any fear or dread.

Only an overwhelming and crippling exhaustion that made waves through your body. No longer are you in your 19-year-old body, but your 27th. No longer are you in your younger, former self; one that shone brightly above the others, aspiring as both a heroic figure and one that would help pave the way towards a better, peaceful world.

No, instead, your soul feels like it's settled deep into your bones, an aching tire that keeps rocking and rattling at your already fractured, beaten down body, laughing at how pathetic you look.

(You're so tired.

You just wanted to live normally.

You never can, you eventually come to realize on your first 24th birthday.

That thought, now fully realized, would come to permeate it's way deep into your bones.)

All you wanted to do was to just take one step forward, off of the railing that you're so delicately balanced upon, and dive into air headfirst.

Really, all it takes is just one step.

And truly, you've never felt more at peace as your body dropped from the railings, descended quickly towards the streets below you.

What should've been a quick few seconds of a dive felt like an eternity drowning in a bottomless pool. The lights of New York flashed and beamed at you, but it changed rapidly from one to another. Your throat closes, shuttering, and you want so desperately to start screaming.

Only, no one would hear them.

The winds would carry away your screams, rushing a sound of its own that would overpower yours.

You wonder, absently, was this similar to what Rhodey felt that day?

Well.

You'd never really find out, now, will you?

Too late to ask.

(There's no way to get back home.

You can never see Morgan again- the Morgan that called you her big Care Bear, the Morgan that cried and threw a temper tantrum because you forgot to give her a goodnight kiss.

You can never see mom and dad again- while they're still here, it's just not the same. You'll never get to see the same Pepper who was so relieved just to see you alive after the Battle of Wakanda, even if you were practically on your death bed. You'll never get to see the same Tony who you spent hours crying into the shoulder of after the Blip.

You can never see the same Steve, Natasha, Rhodey, anyone, ever again.

Years spent just trying to be better, to help the world, to mend and build any relationships you could, gone.

And even if they weren't?

There's just no way to get back home anymore. Not back to the person you used to be.)

The next day, you got an earful from your parents when photos of your falling body appear all over the internet. All the meanwhile, you're not really listening to them, just staring right back at them.

Odd.

('When did you start looking at me with contempt?', you'd ask one day.

Tony just stares at you, then out the window. In his hand, he's holding a cup of coffee; in yours, water. You've since stopped drinking anything remotely sugary, caffeinated, or alcoholic, though you've never told anyone why.

'When did you start mistaking concern with contempt.', he responded, though it was more of a statement rather than a question.

You stared at him, then followed his gaze out the window.

Neither of you says anything, even as the hours go by in the blink of an eye.)

(That's all I had written down so far. Not sure where I wanted to go with this afterwards.)

Special (Vapidity, Testament To Absence) deals with future DAHLIA realizing what it means to mourn someone.

The house is empty.

It is an irrelevant thought, DAHLIA notes.

Technically speaking, the house has been empty quite often than not; after all, you were a busy man with an equally busy schedule. Being the CEO of SI and a huge contributing factor to the world's rebuilding made it more or less impossible for you to stay at home for long. Though, she also doesn't linger long in the house, either. But she's still there regardless, even if she's also with you on the other side of the planet for diplomatic reasons.

She knows of the emptiness inside this house; it was never an unfamiliar concept.

But with this emptiness, she's never once associated loneliness with it either.

It's a bit better when Virginia occasionally comes around to the house to do some maintenance. She might even bring along little Morgan with her.

("You keep saying she's a pest, but I know I sure as hell ain't the one that keeps shifting the TV to the kids' channels when she's around," you comment, not even taking your eyes off of the pan. DAHLIA says nothing towards your accusations, instead opting to tell you that you're burning your eggs.

You aren't, but she says nothing amidst your panic.)

A few others occasionally visit, too, much to DAHLIA's internal disapproval.

Rogers used to visit every day ever since she first noted the emptiness. His behavior was also peculiar. He'd prowl around the house, pausing here and there at random parts of the house. He'd often just... Stand there, seemingly looking at nothing for a long period, before jolting back and continue what he was doing. She's thankful that he hasn't noted her silence when he's around.

Often Banner would come along too, and he'd be talking quietly with Rogers. As of recently, they've stopped visiting though. Probably because of the recent news (that (Name) might still be alive, just lost in time), DAHLIA almost bitterly notes.

James ("Just call him Rhodey- literally no one calls him James nowadays." you laugh, eyes crinkling with amusement) visits too. He doesn't linger for long, but he makes sure to check up on DAHLIA, help tend to the flowers... She'd even dare say she wishes he'd visit more often.

Peter also visits here and there as well. He often comes with Morgan and Virginia, but there have been a few occasions where he's come here by himself. He'd spend most of his time in the garden, your favorite place. And when he's alone, she'd given him privacy out of respect, but even at a long distance, she can hear him talking by himself. He'd come back eyes red and swollen, but he's always smiling afterward.

A few others have visited too, but not as often as the others. Though, none of that really helps negate the emptiness she feels as she wordlessly navigates through a routine she devoted herself to after your disappearance.

And the final chapter, Special (Chemically Compromised) is basically a fluff filler with (Name) chaperoning Peter's field trip, inspired by an Instagram post.

Written in bits and pieces, unfinished. Not sure if I wanted it to be romantic (the name implies it in a nerdy way) or just a fun, platonic, "dude you're literally embarrassing me" way.

(Peter) "I can't believe you're doing this...!"

(Name) "What? What's wrong with this?"

Pan to (Name) dressing like he's a Typical, Normal Civilian Man, but it's clearly (Name) Stark, son of Tony Stark, and an Avenger.

(Peter) "I don't need you to chaperone my field trip...! May could've done this-"

(Name) "No, she really couldn't, sweetheart. She's got a busy shift, and even told me that no one else's parents was free."

(Name) "Listen- this really could have gone worse if, say, Tony, knew. God knows Tony would've dropped everythin' and just embarrass ya- he did that shit to me every chance he got," Peter winces, almost forgetting that Tony was still your dad, and a chill ran up his spine as he imagined what it would have been like for you.

(Peter) "But still..."

(Name) "Don't worry, I'll just wear a cap and sunglasses."

(Peter) "That can't possibly work."

(Name) "You'd be surprised- Sam's standin' down there, right near that phone booth."

Peter's head snapped over to where you were pointing at, and indeed, right on the floors of the Manhattan streets, there was a relatively built black guy that's wearing a cap, sunglasses, and a brown leather jacket. Peter tilted his head.

He hasn't been around Sam all that much, but he still knows what the Avenger looked like. But even then, he wasn't sure if that man was actually Sam. He's built right, but Peter can't see much of his hair or eyes. Plus, he's kind of far away.

He squinted at the man, before glancing back at you, now unsure of himself.

(Peter) "That's really the Falcon?"

You stared at him, before snorting.

(Name) "Nah, I'm joshin' ya, that's just some random guy...", you glance at the man, sniffing, "... Probably."

That's... pretty much it. That's all I had for Restart, as far as writing goes.

Now here are some closing thoughts, just to wrap all of this up nice and tight, sort of.

I'm not really happy with how the initial chapters were paced and how they were written. My writing style has mildly changed, and if I had the motivation to, I'd love to rewrite them. But alas, I don't.

I think about this story often; or at least, variations of it. It's like when you daydream, and you restart it but to the left. But unfortunately, writing a plot without too many plot holes while remaining as canonically correct as possible, and making it interesting without being a complete word-by-word remake of the movies, is difficult.

I'm not sure if I would ever pick up this story again, especially since this whole chapter told you what I had in store anyways.

Thank you to those who took the time out of their day to write nice and encouraging comments about this story. It's unfortunate it had to end this way, but I'm glad it happened anyways. And hopefully, it's the same for you.

And remember: the one thing writers love to do is talk about their story! If you have any other comments, questions, or just general thoughts about the story, I'd love to discuss it further!

Anyways. If you're reading this now, thanks for sticking with Restart for as long as you did.

_____

Masterlist

_____

I know I had people on the tagged list, but it’s a bit hard to get them all as URL’s change, so I opted not to. Sorry!

#male reader #avengers x male reader #steve rogers x male reader #bucky barnes x male reader #avengers #reader insert #avengers x reader #restart

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gay-ghosts-committing-crimes · 3 years

Text

Two Best Friends Going to the Thrift Store!! (They Don’t Kiss)

AO3 link is here

Summary: Bobby and Flynn decide that watching people get their nails painted isn't fun, so they figure that shopping is the only answer.

Warnings: swearing and a sickening amount of platonic friendship

Words: 1,472

taglist, just ask to be added or removed: @barrel-of-cat-mituna @completekeefitztrash @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @lemontarto @hershis-kotlc @genesiscaveat @everything-else-and-mars @juline-dizznee @chaotic-basics @an-absolute-travesty @classyfunnyquotesmuffin7 @iamstealingyourgenderaswespeak @itstiger720 @introvertedscarecrow @sunset-telepath @an-idiot-in-a-trenchcoat @cowboypossume @anaccidentwaitingtohappen @sofia-not-sophie @fire-sapphics @dr-alan-grant-blog-blog @real-smooth @juline-dizznee @it-tastes-like-lizard

Flynn groaned from where she lay sprawled out on Julie's bed.

"I'm bored," They complained, idly picking at the covers, "I'm too gay and adhd for this."

Bobby agreed from his spot on a beanbag. "Don't get me wrong, I love the vibes, and if anyone can pull off red nail polish, it's Reg, but watching nails get done? Not my version of a hot girl summer."

Julie rolled her eyes at them and continued painstakingly painting Reggie's thumbnail, making sure it was completely even before responding.

"First of all Flynn, don't pick at the blankets, your nails are still drying, second of all, Bobbin, you are literally nonbinary. You don't get a hot girl summer."

Bobby clutched dramatically at their chest, purposefully deepening his voice and pouting.

"Jules! The pain- who knew you were the gatekeeping girlboss of the Molina family? That's so transphobic." They paused, clearly waiting for someone to stand up for him. No one did.

"Fine, I see how it is. It's because I'm amab, isn't it? If Luke and Alex were here, they would let me have a hot girl summer."

Reggie piped up, "They probably wouldn't. Luke would be on Julie's side, and Alex would either agree with Willie, or if they weren't here, say something sarcastic about how you haven't earned a hot girl summer."

Bobby huffed, flipping over on the bean bag so he was basically upside down, and made a face at Reggie, who only smiled and shrugged, his cheeks lightly pink.

Flynn laughed but didn't disagree, and Bobby glared at them before flipping them off and haughtily crossing their arms. She only cackled more and he gave up, scoffing under his breath.

Julie hummed quietly under her breath as she worked, and Flynn made various noises to stim in an effort to not ruin her nails, but otherwise the small group fell quiet.

Finally Bobby couldn't handle the silence and pushed themself up, stretching and ruffling Reggie's hair before grabbing Flynn around the waist and lifting them up onto his shoulder, ignoring her protests about being careful of her nails, and heading for the door.

"Flynn and I will be back, we've got hot he/they and she/they shit to do." Flynn grumbled from where they were thrown over his shoulder, complaining about how they treated her like a rag doll, but didn't put up a fight to leaving. After all, she had been bored too.

"Alright half-pint, where to?" Bobby gingerly set her down once they made it outside, this time noticeably more careful about their nails, and she gave a nod of thanks.

"I'd pinch you for calling me that, but my nails are still drying," She glared disapprovingly at him, but they only gave a cheeky smile and started walking, leaving her to follow.

"I think there's a new thrift store we could check out; I've been meaning to get some nice platform shoes."

Bobby nodded in understanding and plucked at their black shirt, which they had cropped himself "I've been wanting a new crop top or two," They replied.

Flynn checked out their outfit and raised her eyebrows approvingly. Bobby was sporting his black crop top, a pair of red high-waisted cut-off shorts, and black combat boots with rainbow laces. Their hair was loose, and he had black winged eyeliner to finish off the look.

"You can't really go wrong with a crop top," She agreed, and he grinned in response.

"Thanks half-pint." They went to rub his knuckles on her head, but laughed and pulled away when they threatened him with being called a CisHet™.

"Hey hey!" He gestured placatingly as he laughed, "No need to be harsh!"

She rolled their eyes, but gave a soft smile and bumped their shoulders together.

They slung their arm over her shoulder and started walking again.

The thrift shop was mostly empty of people when the friends got there, but the selection was good and they both enjoyed searching the racks and showing off the random treasures they found tucked away, like a pair of boots that would have been a near perfect match of the combat boots Bobby was wearing, except for the fact that they were a beautiful floral pattern, and an adorable button up with sunflowers and bees that Flynn found between an atrocious neon orange jean jacket, and cute quarter-zip jacket with handmade embroidery on it.

Bobby paused their search for the Perfect Crop Top to hold a teal dress against his chest, and raised an eyebrow at Flynn.

"Well, what do you think? Figure this would convince Julie that I deserve my very own hot girl summer?"

Flynn snorted and shook her head, grabbing a garish purple dress with more frills than square inches, and handed it to him.

"Try this," They smirked, "You'd have the hottest girl summer of us all. Might even catch yourself a man in that outfit."

He stopped as if considering, and then regretfully shook their head, "I couldn't. There's only one person I'd want to catch, and I wouldn't want to make anyone feel bad by being the hottest in the group." He winked and bit his lip to make the fuck-boy face, to which Flynn responded by slugging them in the arm.

"Never, and I mean never, do that at me again, and also? I literally exist. I'm the hottest of the friend group. We all know this." She posed for a second and then turned back to the dresses, eyeing them up and down and smiled to themself.

"'Only one person'," They teased, partially pulling out a sequined pink dress and wrinkling their nose before glancing back at Bobby, "Please, you are head over HEELS for him. I'm surprised you haven't made a move yet honestly."

She grabbed a lavender sundress and held it up for his approval.

"Cute, I like it for you. And it's not "surprising" that I haven't made a move. I'm just... being patient. Besides little miss disaster lesbian, you haven't stopped pining over Carrie in years, and you haven't even asked her out once!! at least I've done more than that."

Flynn spun on him, "What?! You didn't tell me?!?!?"

"Wait wait wait, it wasn't anything big!" Bobby held up their hands and took a step back, "We were all up until like, four in the morning, and high on lack of sleep and all that, and I said we should all go on a double date. Luke pouted because he didn't want to go without Julie, and Alex was already asleep, so it was just me and Reggie.

"I guess now that I think about it, it was kind of a date? But like, a platonic one." They shrugged and turned back to searching the racks of clothes, but Flynn wouldn't let go of it so easily.

"So you're telling me you went on a date, with your crush, alone, and you think he doesn't like you back?! Are you fucking kidding me?? Oooh, pretty!"

They paused their rant momentarily when a cute pair of pants caught her eye, and she held them up to see how they looked. Flynn put them back and shook her head.

"Anyways, he's as much in love with you as you are with him. And. I'm getting these sunglasses because fuck you, that's why."

Bobby rolled his eyes, "I wasn't going to tell you not to, but aight. And he might like me back. It's not like-" They waved their hands vaguely, "- like Luke and Jules."

They were practically made for each other, and it was never a question about whether or not they liked each other back. They just. Did.

"With Reggie it's different. He's been through a lot Flynn, and I'd die alone a thousand times before hurting him. I just don't know if he feels the same about me."

They were both quiet for a bit, flipping through hangers and assorted shoes. It wasn't an awkward silence, just a thoughtful one, and Bobby was grateful that Flynn was able to tease and annoy, but ultimately listen and offer advice too. They were a good friend, and Bobby wouldn't trade it for the world.

After a while they went to check out, the cashier offering them a smile and polite goodbye when Flynn pushed open the door, warm air flowing around them as they began the walk back to Julie's house.

"Hey Bobbers?"

"Yeah half-pint?"

"I don't think the boys, or you, would ever let you come close to hurting Reggie. And by the way? He tooootally likes you back."

"Yeah?" He gave a grateful smile.

"Yeah."

"Thanks half-pint." They laughed when she flicked them, and pulled her into a hug before linking their arms and singing a song under his breath.

It was a good day to have friends like his.

32 notes · View notes

saebyeog-i · 4 years

Text

soft | njm (m)

genre | office romance au / slight humor, smut lol

rating/warnings | stream of consciousness bs / alcohol consumption / semi public sex {oral, m receiving; mentions of breathplay} / slightly unedited whoops

word count | drabble! 2.1k because I don’t know how to shut up

pairing | IT Worker!Jaemin x reader

—

When you start your new job, you realize pretty quickly that Jaemin from IT wears sweaters all the time in the office. Even in the summer. Even when it’s 95 degrees outside, because he gets cold easily and they always blast the AC too much indoors.

He’s a very soft and unassuming character, and he’s the youngest person on his team by at least ten years, and during your first meeting when he’s getting your work station set up in your office he tells you he just likes that he gets paid to play around with computers all day and that’s why he keeps the job.

“Couldn’t you be a software engineer or something? Make far more money and not have to answer dumb computer questions all the time?” You ask offhandedly, and then realize you’ve insinuated that he’s paid poorly. You attempt to back pedal your statement, but he’s not the least bit offended.

He chuckles, eyes crinkling and he shakes his head. “I get paid plenty well for this job, and besides, I never have any tight deadlines or work overtime. I don’t exactly dream of extra and strenuous labor.”

He wears sweaters that are two sizes too big for him, made up of bright obnoxious colors and gaudy patterns that would usually make you fake vomit at seeing them on a real life human. But he makes them look charming, somehow. Grandpa sweaters, you call them, even to his face, with patterns that just make you gag. Never a sweater vest, mind you, only ever a full pull over knit sweater, with the occasional cardigan over a long sleeve turtleneck. Over time, you see a variety of patterns and colors, and you think he must have an endless supply of them.

You’re not bad with computers by any means, but you do like to bat your eyelashes and have other people do things for you when you can. You’re admittedly a little bit lazy, not stupid, and besides, he’s much faster at fixing any issues than you are, why waste time trying to figure it out yourself?

You think it’s cute, the way he smiles with his eyes and chuckles quietly whenever he comes to your office to fulfill a help desk ticket. You like the way he smiles at you and the way he’ll compliment your outfits, how soft and unassuming his words always are, and never cringe worthy like that older man in marketing who thinks he’s being nice but is in fact just being slightly creepy. When you tell your roommate about Jaemin from IT complimenting your new dress in the kitchen as you made your morning coffee, she asks if you have a thing for him because of how often you bring him up in your stories from work.

“Oh, no, definitely not— he’s soft, but a little too soft, you know? Need me a bit of a freak, someone who wouldn’t be opposed to like, I dunno, choking me if I said I was into that,” you sigh, trying to imagine the soft and pixie-like Jaemin from IT with his hands around your neck. It doesn’t compute. “Besides, I think he puts like, eight shots of espresso in his coffee, his cum probably tastes like battery acid,” you sigh into your yogurt as your roommate crinkles her nose one morning before you both depart for work. You move on from the brief idea, and think you’ll stick to just enjoying sweet and innocent Jaemin that wears oversizes sweaters from afar instead.

On anyone else, the fashion sense would be annoying.

But not on Jaemin.

He’s soft and squishy and kind of adorable with the way he scrunches up his nose when he laughs, and the endearing way he explains to the older company employees how to run the Microsoft Office automatic software updates to get the latest version of Excel and PowerPoint. He does his best to teach them how to do it on their own to give them a sense of accomplishment and understanding of the technology they rely on but seem to have no hope at operating beyond the basic level needed for their jobs (but still doing it for them anyways, with patience and a smile and never a complaint).

It’s an attractive quality, you have to admit, and if he wasn’t the walking embodiment of marshmallow fluff you’d think more about him. But he is, so you don’t, and instead sigh out loud as you watch him huff and blow the fluffy bangs out of his eyes as he’s crouched under your desk, re-running the wires for your office phone.

You’ve always had a bad habit of mumbling your thoughts out loud when you’re distracted, and sometimes he’ll catch you cursing out the equipment or your supervisors for not knowing the difference between something you’d deem as basic for your department or field. He finds it charming, thinks it makes you more candid and honest and it’s a different side of you than the one who bats her eyelashes and files help desk tickets when she could easily do something herself. You’re taken aback by this comment, because you didn’t count him for someone that would keep track of something like that, which you admit to him in slight disbelief.

“Oh believe me, I’m more observant than you think I am,” he chimes mysteriously as his fingers glide across your keyboard, entering his admin password to run another round of program installations and software upgrades.

You don’t think much of it when he’s the only person who fulfills your tickets for six months straight.

Not until the holiday party, anyways.

At the holiday party, it’s an open bar and everyone is dressed UP up. You expect to see Jaemin in another grandpa print sweater two sizes too big for him— that is, if the soft boy shows at all. Company holiday parties like this don’t scream ‘Jaemin from IT’ at you, given that from what your more seasoned coworkers have told you about years past, after tonight you can expect at least one person to end up suspended or fired for behavior; that and the Company President gives everyone an Uber code for a free ride home since they already know how absolutely wasted everyone plans on getting.

To your surprise, Jaemin from IT does in fact show up at the holiday party. You spot him as soon as he enters, about an hour into the party itself, and he slips into the crowd and makes his way to the bar. You were expecting a tacky Christmas sweater on him, but instead, he’s dressed in the exact opposite.

Instead, he’s got his hair styled up (a first, and you never realized how badly you wanted to see his forehead before) and instead of a gaudy array of colors and patterns, he’s wearing a nicely tailored suit in a rich wine color with a black button down underneath.

When he waves from across the room and approaches you just to be friendly and say hi, you’re definitely caught off guard enough that you don’t realize you’ve mumbled out “How is that fair? How can he look like THAT outside of a sweater and then not let me just suck his dick right here?”

Jaemin blinks for a moment, taken by surprise, when he realizes it’s that same candid habit of yours and you haven’t realized you’ve said it out loud. His mouth curls into a smile and he presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek and gets nice and close, close enough to flirtatiously whisper “Well if you insist, though I’m sure we could find somewhere a bit more... private.”

And then you’re so caught off guard by confident sexy suit wearing Jaemin you think he’s read your mind for until you realize what you said out loud. But he’s into the idea given the fact that he doesn’t run in fear from your words and fuck it, so are you, and he’s not just cute and squishy anymore he’s fucking hot in that suit and with his dark hair styled just so, so you feel flirty and courageous when you say “You know I think I like the suit over the grandpa sweaters, but I think I’d like the suit even better on the floor.”

After the way his mouth ticks upward in a smile, the movements are all a blur that you can’t quite separate out into discrete events: downing you drink, linking hands with him, scurrying off towards the single occupancy restroom furthest from the dance floor and bolting the lock so you can be sure as shit that when your lips crash against his and then your knees hit the floor there will be no interruptions.

“Funny,” you say, trailing kisses down his throat after a moment, “Never thought I’d see you as anything but soft.” The admittance and double entendre are entirely intentional and you know that he knows.

“Seems like now’s a good as time as any to pay back all those superfluous ticket requests,” he breaths out, and your lips curl into a grin as your fingers find their way to his belt and tug his dress pants down.

“If you insist,” you tease back his words from earlier, sinking to your knees all too happily.

You take him into your mouth easily, relishing in the groans and shaky exhales that comes from his perfect lips as his fingers thread through your hair and his grip tightens. A fire deep in your belly ignites at the noises, enjoying how easily you can make the man you thought so soft and unassuming fall apart at just a run of your tongue and a hollowing of your cheeks.

“Fucking shit don’t do that unless—”

He’s cut off by his own groan as you run your tongue along his slit once before taking him as afar back in your throat as you can manage, then he’s cumming in your mouth with a high pitched shaky whine.

When he’s finished, you make an obscene show of his cum in your mouth for him and curl your tongue back as you swallow, wiping away the excess saliva with the heel of your palm. “Pay back enough?” You ask surreptitiously as you rise back to your feet, dusting off the skirt of your cocktail dress.

Jaemin from IT digs his fingers into your hips and pulls you close to him, a growl deep in the back of his throat before his lips clash against yours, “All that and then some.”

His fingers link with yours after as he hurriedly drags you from the bathroom to the exit of the venue, waving haphazardly at his team members before launching the ride share app and tapping in the provided code for that free ride. “I meant it when I said your wardrobe is both flattering and professional,” he hums, “But out of respect for your sense of style, I’ll refrain from tearing any garment off of you and provide a hangar for it instead. Deal?”

The words are so forward and presumptuous. You can’t help but feel a little turned on by the action, however, and find yourself scoffing as you smile and stick a hand out for him to shake, “Deal.”

So even though you’d maybe been hoping to get a bit more free alcohol out of the company holiday party, you’re celebrating some much better company some thirty, forty minutes later, once you’re out of the car and your bare back is pressed against the locked front door of his apartment as Jaemin from IT fucks into you in a way that is the absolute opposite from soft, just as he’d promised. And when you’d moaned it out and asked, he happily agreed to (delicately, tenderly) lay his hand on your throat and apply pressure.

Your expensive cocktail dress rests on a hanger on the coat rack in his living room, just like he’d promised. You don’t put it back on until the following afternoon. And then again a year later, when you enter the company holiday party arm in arm with Jaemin from IT— Na Jaemin, you’d finally learned and committed to memory his last name after that first night, who was now your boyfriend.

“You know I didn’t take you for an outfit repeater,” he teases, this year arriving on time (at your behest) and wearing an all black suit save for the glittering of the jeweled pinstripes on his jacket.

You roll your eyes and tug him towards you by his neck tie. “Who’s fault is it that not enough people got to appreciate this dress last year, hm?”

He looks up in thought playfully for a moment before answering, “The sweaters?”

You press another kiss to his lips, this one a little less aggressively and a little bit softer (like you liked him, you’d come to find out) and reply, “Yeah, definitely the sweaters.”

—

author’s note | I originally wrote this in my dm’s to Clover half asleep at 6:30 in the morning on a Saturday and she told me she’d sue if I didn’t post it, so, here, lol have the expanded version that I wrote after chugging a glass of Reisling and a shot of Jameson at 10pm last night.

#let's #try this #one more time sigh #get your shit together tumblr #fix your damn tags sigh #jaemin fanfic #jaemin fluff #jaemin smut #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct smut #-sighs- clover what have you done to me #swamp witch writes

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oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

Steamy Waters — Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten), Namjoon x Vixen (mentioned)

Wordcount: 8.7k words

Genre: smut, a tinyyyyy bit of angst, pwp, established relationship, idol!au

Rating: very18+

Hello strawberries! With Namjoon’s Steamy Waters we saw the guys leaving for tour, with Yoongi we see them come back. Of course there will be a few things happening in between the two fics, but that will come later (see it as some special piece similar in terms of genre to Girls’ Night). Quick recap of the plot: Yoongi comes back from tour and Kitten is there to greet him. It has been a long day, and a he’s been away for a long time: the two decide to head to the shower to help Yoongi get rid of his travelling filth and help Kitten get rid of her bitter feelings. (AKA that one time Yoongi finally convinced Kitten to move in with a very unorthodox method.)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: filth. Swearing. Sarcasm. Dirty Talking. Slight angst (Yoongi’s shoulder is sore; Kitten finds condoms in his travel bag and she is afraid of cheating, even though she knows Yoongi is 3000% faithful, past relationship trauma). Shower blowjob, cum swallowing, cock worship and breast worship, lots of ass grabbing (both male and female receiving); again, Yoongi wakes her up with oral which is something he does a lot but still, it’s non explicitly consensual since she’s sleeping, he asks for consent as soon as she wakes up. Unprotected sex within an established relationship (GET TESTED BEFORE GOING BARE WITH YOUR PARTNER. PLEASE. USE CONDOMS UNLESS YOU’RE 1000% SURE YOU’RE CLEAN). Spooning sex, fingering, he uses his fingers as a gag. Multiple rounds and very multiple orgasms and squirting. Mentions of a cocksleeve. Mentions of anal sex; mild anal play (female receiving), mentions of rimming (female receiving). Use of a G-spot vibrator with remote control via smartphone, squirting, cunnilingus and face riding, crying, slight degradation, use of safeword, old school missionary jackhammering, choking kink. On a side note, reader is bisexual and everybody has a crush for Vixen

If you want background music for reading I suggest playing the whole About Time album by Sabrina Claudio or Over It (complete set) album by Summer Walker. [Thank me later 😉]

Finally, here is my masterlist and well, Enjoy!!! ✨💜

———————————

You stood in the middle of the underground parking lot of Yoongi’s apartment, waiting for his van to arrive from the airport. Today he was back from the tour and you’d taken a few days off work to spend time with him.

You stood there, checking some emails on your phone when the doors of the lift opened on a dolled up Vixen.

You had seen her wear black, blue and white quite consistently, head to toe impeccable at all times. That’s why you had to do a double take when you saw her in a pink, frilly, tiny sundress that looked like it could unravel if you stared at it for too long.

“Am I late?” She asked, only to stare at you and realise that if you were there waiting, then no, they hadn’t arrived yet. “Sorry, dumb question, I’m just excited.” She smiled nervously, fixing non-existent creases on her dress.

“There’s a bit of traffic. They’ll be here in a minute, though.” You explained, putting down your phone. “Plans for a date?” You asked her, looking at her outfit.

“No, actually. I just wanted to dress pretty.” She said, elegant and sweet as usual.

You smiled and looked at your oversized, worn-out T-shirt from a rockband you listened to when you were a teen, and the loose cotton shorts that reached your mid-thigh, paired with casual flip flops. You weren’t even wearing your nice bra. Not that Yoongi would care about that once he took your shirt off. Bras were just a nuisance to him anyway.

“Are you on vacation?” She asked, checking her phone before locking it again. It lit up again with a notification, her lockscreen showing a picture of a boy staring at a sculpture. No doubt, Namjoon.

“No, just took a few days off.” You replied kindly. You checked your phone yourself. “You and Joon are going on holiday?”

“Just a quick getaway.” She explained, beaming at you. She looked radiant, as if the last seven weeks had never existed. But her face looked slimmer. Her arms too. You had often met at the gym, spending time together and working out, ‘to stop thinking’ she had said. And you had bonded like that, over working out to stop your brains and dull your edges while your boyfriends were away.

You tried not to think if Namjoon was going to propose while they were away. Yoongi had mentioned the man was considering the idea. “Then have a safe journey and a nice holiday.” You said, grinning. “Hope you can get your fill of him.” You said smirking.

She caught the innuendo mischievously. “Trust me, I will.” She replied before winking.

The bar to the parking lot lifted, before a black van entered the space, stopping a few slots away from you.

Vixen was basically skipping on her toes, ready to throw herself at her boyfriend. Beside her, you felt like a flock of hummingbirds had been caged inside your chest, the fluttering feeling almost uncomfortable. When you heard the doors open, your ears stopped working, blood pressure making them perceive nothing but a dull beeping sound.

Namjoon appeared from the door, Vixen dashing to him and throwing her whole body into his arms as he picked her up. The whole scene was very romantic and dramatic — just in their style —, almost making you sneer in a mysanthropistic fit, however the smaller figure appearing behind the lovey dovey couple made you reconsider your hatred towards humanity.

Let’s be clear, you weren’t normally this sour, but seven weeks without Yoongi had taken their toll, and all you wanted was to incinerate every couple until he had had his sweet way with you and you weren’t underloved and underorgasmed anymore.

“No dramatic welcome back for me?” He asked, staring at you from the distance with his hands on his hips. “No balloons and banners?” He shook his head. “You’re a disappointment.” He grinned at you.

“You’re sucking your own dick tonight.” You teased back, Namjoon and Vixen too caught up in their idyllium to bother with your bantering.

He shrugged. “Thank you for letting me know.” He opened his arms and you walked towards him, hugging him tight as he did just the same, your arms around his neck as he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you to him. “Hi, Kitten.”

“Hello, Yoongles.” You said, your voice emotional.

“I’m sorry, I smell a bit.” He said, thinking about all those hours on the plane.

“Not really.” You said, nuzzling into his neck, reacquainting with his cologne. “You’re as good as usual.”

His hands rubbed up and down your spine. “Let’s go upstairs. It’s too hot outside today and I could kill for a shower right now.”

The back of the van was already open as Namjoon took out the suitcases.

“Hyung. Here is yours.” He said, letting it roll towards Yoongi.

He thanked and caught it, sprawling his left hand over the top of it before catching the handle. Your eyes went wide as you stared at the tendons and veins just below the pale skin, jumping and flexing at the effort.

You had missed those hands. Dearly. Deliriously.

As he noticed your focused stare, he smirked, his other hand searching for your fingers, intertwining them with his. “I have my backpack too. Careful, there’s equipment inside.” Said Yoongi, pulling at your arm as he neared the back of the van and grabbed his stuff.

“Let me get that.” You said, fussing over him. He looked tired and thin. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Not too bad.” He said. “A bit crumpled up because of the long trip and the air conditioning, but overall not bad.” He let you take the backpack though, showing you that yes, it was probably not nice.

“I’ll have a cold pack ready upstairs.” You said, kissing his temple. The boys and Vixen said goodbye to the driver as he left, leaving the four of you trying to fit inside the lift.

It wasn’t too difficult and you were grateful that Namjoon stayed mostly silent even as his hand kept drawing patterns on the back of Vixen’s naked thigh, climbing decisively too high — and too under her dress — for public decency. Not that he noticed you or Yoongi staring and looking at each other conspiratorially, trying to find ways to tease him about it in the future.

Anyway, Yoongi drew you close with an arm around your waist, whispering in your ear, “I’m just as needy myself.”

You turned to look at him with a knowing smirk. “I wouldn’t expect any less.” You whispered back, pressing your brow to the side of his head.

Luckily, the doors dinged and opened, making the sweethearts quit their endeavours and hurriedly grab the suitcase and the smaller carryon. Next, you took care of Yoongi’s luggage, helping him slide it down the corridor, to the door of his apartment. Namjoon and Vixen stood in front of the door beside you while he opened the front door to their apartment and brought his stuff in.

“I don’t think I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Namjoon commented.

“I don’t think so, no.” Yoongi replied chuckling as you raised your eyebrows and looked away, avoiding Namjoon’s knowing smirk.

“Then have a nice break. Guess I’ll text you.” Namjoon replied.

“Of course.” Yoongi said.

“Kitten,” Namjoon greeted with a small nod.

You waved at him, at the same time as Vixen said goodbye to the both of you and Namjoon picked her up again.

“We didn’t tell them to keep it down.” Yoongi realised after staring at the closed front door for a couple seconds.

“We could sleep in your studio.” You reasoned with a doubtful pout.

Yoongi’s expression unintentionally mirrored yours.

“Shall we?” You said, gesturing to the door.

He placed his arm around your waist and dragged you in. “I’m not strong enough to carry you like that.” He said, closing the door.

“They’re so disgustingly sweet.” You replied, shaking your head and combing his hair with your fingers. He looked so good with black hair.

“You say that only ‘cause it’s been too long since I last fucked you.” He replied, ignoring the suitcases and placing his lips on yours, chastely, sweetly.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered, rubbing his lips on yours tenderly.

“I’ve missed you too.” You replied, placing your hands on his ass and pushing him closer to you.

“I love you.” He murmured with his deliriously sexy voice.

“I love you.” You echoed, squeezing his behind eloquently.

He grinned. “Did Namjoon give you ideas?” He said, referring to the lift scene.

“I’m just appreciating the small things in life.” You quipped, making him part from you with an outraged frown.

“My ass is not that small.” He opposed.

“You are small.” You replied, cupping his face and squishing his cheeks.

“You have clearly forgotten how it feels to have my cock inside you.” He teased right back, gripping your ass himself and pushing you against his front, making you feel his hardening length.

“Maybe you could give me a reminder.” You wondered.

“I need a shower.”

“And I need to blow you, which, in my opinion, makes an excellent combination.” You said reasonably.

He grinned and shook his head. “Fuck, if I missed you.”

“Yes ‘fuck, if I missed you’, but also fuck me, please?” You said, raising an eyebrow and opening your hands with your palms up in front of him in a helpless pose.

“Let’s get that shower first, yeah.” He rubbed his hands up and down your sides. “You’ve waited so long that you can wait a bit longer, right.”

“I repeat, you’re this close to sucking your own dick tonight.” You warned jokingly.

“Then we can have that shower and let you blow me before you change your mind.” He teased, calming you down with heavy touches to your cheeks and hair.

He was secretly enjoying the feel of you in front of him, getting reacquainted with the materiality of you, with the joy of feeling you at his side, of feeling you, full stop. He had never known he could miss touching someone. Innocently, attentively and lovingly.

He had missed the feel of you under his hands. Combing your hair, hiding his nose in the crook of your neck, holding your hands.

Holding your hands.

He felt like he could do just that as you fell asleep on the bed.

He felt so tired.

“Let’s go.” You said, noticing his tired gaze.

“The bags.” He said, pointing at his luggage in the entry.

“Later.” You replied, squeezing his hand and leading the way to the bathroom adjoined to your bedroom.

“How was the journey?” You asked, taking off your shirt once you entered the bathroom door.

“Tiring. Very long. We had a long delay due to the connecting flight being late.”

“You had a connecting flight?” You said, incredulous, stopping as you were taking off your shorts.

“Well, it’s pretty difficult finding direct flights from Europe to South Korea.” He said, taking off his own shirt.

You turned around to look at his naked torso. It was pale as usual, more sculpted, but barely, still you immediately spotted the slightest curve on his belly and relaxed. It wasn’t as bad as it looked. Next he took off his loose linen sweats, a pair of plain white boxers emerging underneath. His calves were slightly bronzed, and as he noticed you staring he explained. “I stayed out with Hoseok one afternoon. I had bermudas on.” He pouted.

“My poor little cracker.” You cooed, getting closer to him in nothing but your underwear. As he hugged you, his hands went immediately to the clasp of your bra, unlatching it.

Grinning, you took it off and offered it to him, who threw it hatefully behind his shoulders. “I hate that shit.” He sneered, before cupping each of your breasts and pushing them up, planting his face snug in between.

“I missed you.” He mouthed, kissing both.

You giggled. “Are you talking to my tits.”

“I am appreciating the great things of life.” He murmured.

“I hope appreciating them includes covering them in hickeys and cum.” You commented, caressing his hair as he kept trying to suffocate himself between your boobs.

“What if I appreciated your dirty mouth first?” He teased, opening the tap to the shower and feeling the water temperature with the palm of his hand before bending down to take off his boxers.

His cock was half mast, as glorious as you remembered it, the hair around kept just long enough to stay soft.

As he noticed you staring, he snickered. “It looks like you really want to reacquaint with it.”

“Says the man who said ‘I missed you’ to my tits.” You teased.

“Fair enough.” He conceded, getting under the water falling from the shower head.

Taking off your panties, you followed him in.

“You look beautiful, Kitten.” He said, “a bit too thin, though.” He commented, running his hands up and down your sides.

“All those nights in the gym took a toll.” You replied.

“I still can’t believe you actually went to the gym.” He said, kissing your lips as light as a butterfly. “And just because you wanted to fuck but I was away.”

You shrugged, “the alternative was starting a very sapphic tryst with Vixen, but I don’t think Namjoon would have condoned it.”

Yoongi chuckled, “No, I don’t think so.” He admitted, massaging your ass under his palms. “Nice improvement.”

“I did Vixen’s workout. That girl is a fucking power plant.” You shook your head. “Completely crazy.”

“She is after all Namjoon’s girlfriend. I’m surprised he called her Vixen and not bunny or rabbit.” He shook his head.

“Enough with the sweethearts. Give me the D, mr Min.” You said, getting on your knees.

He laughed and ran his hand through your hair, while you scooted back towards the wall. You precisely knew how you wanted him.

“Kitten. What is it.” He asked, looking at the way you parted your legs and crouched, making sure that your spine and the back of your head pressed against the wall, your heels tucked under your ass.

“I want you to fuck my mouth?” You said, eyes imploring, your hands already running down the back of his thighs, trying to bring him close.

“You sure?” He asked, licking his lips repeatedly, swallowing once and then again in an attempt to bring comfort to his dry mouth.

“Yeah.” You replied, looking up at him bringing your hand between your legs, testing your own wetness.

Your eyes met as he stroked his length a couple times before feeding the tip of his cock into your mouth, parted wide for him. “Tell me how deep I can go.” He murmured, pushing in slowly.

You placed your hands on his hips, pushing him deeper into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around him, covering the edge of your teeth and bobbing your head tentatively. His hand moved protectively to the crown of your head, trying to keep your head from hitting the wall.

“Easy, tiger,” He said, chuckling, before his laugh stopped, interrupted by a moan. “Kitten, that's deep.” He murmured as you pushed him past the back of your tongue and deep into your throat. You kept him there for a couple seconds, focusing on the feel of him to avoid choking, before pushing him away.

He placed the other hand on the wall, holding up his weight. “Are you okay, love?” He asked, noticing your reddened eyes and heavy breath.

“Yes.” You murmured. “It feels so good to have you back.” You said, elated, as you pulled him back into your mouth, asking him with delicate motions of your arms to thrust into you.

“Missed your lips. Your tongue,” he moaned, groaning as you squeezed your cheeks against his tip. “So fucking good.” He combed your hair back and moved the hand from the wall to your chin, making you look up to him. “Look at me, ____.” He ordered you. “I want to look into your eyes as I fuck your mouth.” He leaned his forearm against the wall, plunging in with a gentle curl of his hips, his mouth wide, the water falling down his spine, his black locks plastered against his forehead. “I love your mouth. Your nasty tongue.” He drew out. “Touch yourself.” He growled, teasing you with his sexy voice.

“Yoongi.” You moaned as he slid out. “Please.” You whimpered.

“Please what, kitty.” He said, touching your face.

“I want you to cum.” You cried out, scratching his abdomen lightly.

“How do you want that?” He asked, brushing a few loose strands of hair off your face.

“I want you to fuck my mouth.” You repeated, eager, your fingers rubbing in between your legs.

“Then let me give you what you want, love.” He purred, grabbing his shaft and placing the soft, reddish tip right on your lower lip. “Is this what you want?”

You nodded, begging him with your longing glance.

He grinned sinfully and let his hip arch forward.

He entered your mouth with a slow and steady stroke, giving you time to prepare yourself, until he was all the way in.

“I'll never forget how it feels, Kitten. I've spent hours thinking about this.” He groaned, his chest heaving.

And then he slipped out, only to stroke in again. You moaned a bit, and then kept quiet, focusing on the feel of him, on his eyes screwed shut, on the rhythmic contractions of his belly, on the flexing of his quads and his glutes.

He was so beautiful, lost in bliss, chasing his high, stopping only when you tapped his leg twice.

He let the tip rest on your tongue, “love that dirty mouth.” He praised you as you slurped and twirled your tongue around him. “Can never resist it.” He went on.

Once more you pulled him towards you, humming wantonly.

“Close, Kitten. Need your… Yes.” He groaned as you reached for his balls. “Sq–”

He didn't have the time to give you orders: you were already doing his favourite things, massaging his sensitive spot, squeezing him gently until he sank deep into you and went silent for a couple seconds, not even breathing before he let a raspy roar tear from his mouth and echo in the small space.

You shut your eyes tight as he gave the smallest thrust, burrowing deep into you as he spilled inside you, the lack of oxygen getting to your head, but still you tried opening your eyes, looking at Yoongi's lips hanging open, gasping for hair.

His chest expanded in a deep breath. “For fuck’s sake.” His eyes opened slightly.

He was leaning over you, the light dimmed by his body shielding you, the sound of the water precipitating against the floor a bit too loud for his ears and your own.

You touched his leg twice and his eyes shot open as he slipped out quickly. “Damn it, you okay, Kitten?” He knelt between your legs, touching your cheeks and taking in your closed eyes and your chest heaving as you finally got some brand new oxygen in your lungs.

“A bit short of breath.” You whispered, leaning into his touch and nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“Oh, precious.” He moved his hands behind your back, hugging you close. “Poor thing.”

“Don’t baby me.” You mumbled, raking your nails down his back, making him shiver.

“No?” He asked, smiling softly, rubbing his cheek against your hair. “You’re a tough cookie?”

You nodded with your eyes closed and he snickered.

“My tough cookie.” He murmured, patting your head. “I missed you so much, beautiful. I love you.”

You untucked yourself from his shoulder and looked at him in the eye. “I love you, too.” You cooed.

“What can I do for you, ____?” He asked, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You dipped your head forward, hiding into him. “I want you close.” He felt his heart melt.

“You don’t want me to fuck you?” He asked, simply caressing your head as you mouthed at his throat.

“Let’s finish the shower first.” You said, parting from him and standing up.

He placed a chaste kiss on your hip as you stood before him, his tongue delving between your legs, tasting your honey-clad folds. “I swear the taste of your cunt keeps getting better and better.”

“We can take this to bed, Yoongi, now stand up and let me wash your hair.” You murmured, running your hands into his dark locks

“You could wash my hair while I make out with your pussy.” He suggested.

“I need to focus, stand up you menace.” You smirked playfully.

He obeyed, bending his head forward, planting it between your tits.

“Yoongi!” You said, playfully outraged.

“Oh, come on.” He murmured. Immediately he found his usual spot and took it past his lips, sucking it with his teeth, rubbing it with his tongue while you found the bottle of his shampoo and poured some in your palm, rubbing your hands together and spreading the foam over his hair.

“Don’t be a whiny pup.” You scolded him, spreading the soap over his scalp, carefully avoiding it going into his eyes.

As he felt your fingers massaging his head, making sure that all the shampoo was rinsed off his hair, his lips accidentally parted in a wide yawn.

“Let’s go to bed.” You murmured, maybe for the first time since you saw him downstairs, the dark circles underneath his eyes.

You closed the tap quickly, stretching to reach a towel and drying him up, pressing the towel to his pained shoulder, dabbing the cotton softly before peppering a cascade of kisses on the skin. “We’re gonna put some lotion on this baddie.” You said, smiling gently at him. “Does it hurt?” Your lips still caressing his skin there while you kept drying him up, knowing how dangerous it was for him to stay wet under the air conditioning. He was delicate and something inside you, something affectionate and apprehensive, made you want to pamper him.

“A bit.” He said, pouting, feeling like he could drop his facade now, abandoning himself to your gentle care.

He yawned again. “You had your orgasm and now you’re sleepy, kitty cat?” You teased, cooing at him cutely.

“I’m a bit jet-lagged,” he admitted, stealing a towel and opening it up, cupping your breasts from over the cotton, and then moving his attention elsewhere, brushing your belly, your arms, kneeling down and placing a small kiss on your lower belly, before rubbing the fabric over your legs, first one, then the other, helping your foot up and drying first your left, then your right one.

“Where’s the lotion?” You asked, kissing his brow as he stood up.

“In the carryon. It’s with the toiletries.”

You quickly wrapped your towel around your body, exiting the room and looking for his large suitcase. You opened it, his laundry neatly folded inside, his beauty bag perfectly fitting in. As you rummaged into his beauty bag, you frowned, spotting a familiar bottle of lube and a small silicone pocket. A few condoms loose among his toiletries.

Something in you hesitated. Even though you knew Yoongi would never, ever look at someone else, old ghosts of your ex immediately started tormenting you.

You tried to ignore the unsettling feeling, blinking a few times before grabbing his shoulder lotion and heading for the kitchen, immediately finding a cold pack inside the freezer, and bringing it to the bedroom. You looked inside a drawer, finding a little kerchief or a bandana — whatever it was — and bringing it to the bedside table.

Yoongi was laying in the middle of the bed, looking at you as you obstinately avoided his gaze.

“Lay on your side.” You asked gently but coldly before he obeyed, still a bit confused at your change in mood. Was it because he hadn’t fucked you? Maybe you were okay with it, but now you weren’t anymore? Were you disappointed?

You poured some cold lotion on the round muscle, following the instruction he had taught you before he left, when he came home tired and sore from practice. And then again, his therapist had taught you some small tricks after the concert in Seoul, when you had accompanied him to the doctor the following day for his ordinary session.

He hissed as the cold gel met his skin, while your thumbs dug into the skin gently but surely, massaging the stressed muscle. “It’ll warm up.” You said simply, spreading the lotion and massaging it where flesh and bone met.

You opened the cold pack, cracking it in the middle and placing it behind his shoulder, where his shoulderblade and collarbone met. locking it into place by tying the bandana around it, running it around his armpit. “There you go. I’ll go rinse my hands.”

You hadn’t kissed him. Or looked at him.

“Kitten.” He called, but you were already walking into the joined bathroom, willingly ignoring his call.

You opened the tap, rubbing the heavy stench of the gel off your hands, and then placing your clean, wet, cold palms against your cheeks, trying to calm down.

You grabbed one of his t-shirts before you lowered the blinds, walking towards the bed and laying down on your side of the bed, curled up in a ball and sliding under the covers after turning on the air purifier. His eyes opened as you laid down,

“Why are you wearing a shirt?” He asked.

“I’m cold.” You replied briefly.

“Kitten.” He called again.

You turned away from him, taking a few deep breaths, pondering whether you should talk or not.

“Kitten.”

“I found the condoms. In your bag.” You voice shook. “I know you would never do what he did but still.”

“Goodness.” He murmured, his breath freezing in his lungs. “Fuck. Kitten. Don’t.” He said calmly, with a reassuring tone, coming closer to you, hugging you to his chest, his tender arm coming around your body, while his good one moved under your head, pillowing it. “They’re there from when you came to our concert in Busan. Remember?” He said, kissing the crown of your head. “Remember Busan?”

You nodded. Of course you remembered. “I do.” You had changed birth control and you had used the condoms for safety. And accidentally — since you were already equipped — you had tried anal for the first time, quite to your surprise.

“And I kept them there. Hoping that maybe you could find a way to come to one of the concerts. That maybe we could have a couple nights somewhere.” He explained, intertwining your fingers. “No one else. I swear to God, no one else, Kitten. No one else, ____.”

You relaxed in his hold, kissing his arm under your head. “I’m so sorry. I know you would never. I trust you, but… You know how it feels.”

“I do, love. I know you trust me, baby.” He kissed your shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, being so strong, my love.”

“Can you just hold me?” You asked, slowly slipping into complete relaxation. Even though you knew feeling him inside you would be the best form of reassurance, you abandoned the idea. Because, as much as you’d love him to ruin you, what you had missed the most while he was away was his hands combing your hair before falling asleep, his chest expanding and deflating against your back as he slept behind you, his hand gently placed on your chest, while you simply laid there, basking in the peacefulness of being together. You missed combing his hair, feeling the weight of his head resting in your arms, kissing his temple as he laid his head on your shoulder, you watching a movie while he pretended not to nap.

“There you go, Kitten.” He murmured against your nape, sprinkling little pecks all over your upper back. “I missed you.” He whispered, again, losing count of how many times he had said it. His body relaxed behind yours, his mind already thinking how he could possibly offer you true reassurance later — and repay you for the blowjob. In kind. With interests. Once he was sure you were sleeping, he stood up, looking into the drawer of your bedside table and smirking once he found the small case together with the charger.

He considered he’d better recharge it and avoid unfortunate mishaps, he unplugged your bedside lamp and connected the charger, plugging it into the toy. Satisfied with the potential developments, he curled up around you; his eyelids fluttered closed, his yawns becoming stronger and more frequent, sleep conquering his body as your own muscles loosened with Morphean abandon.

————————————

When Yoongi woke, it was already sundown, a gentle orange light coming in from the window. Around seven pm.

First, he noticed that his shoulder felt better. Next, he noticed that you were wearing a shirt.

Disappointing.

And next, he realised that he was home. At your side. In your bed.

Finally, he realised that he hadn’t yet seen you cum. He had been home for around six hours and he had spent the majority of those sleeping. When he could have made you cum on his tongue several times.

He started considering his options.

With quiet and discretion, he parted from your sleeping form, heading for the small drawer where he kept bedsheets, towels, underwear and sleeping clothes. There, under a blanket, he found exactly what he was looking for.

“Yes.” He huffed out, placing his treasure on the drawer and fixing the rest, moving back to the bed together with the soft object. He removed the cold pack from his shoulder and spread the small two-layers blanket on the free side of the bed, planning to lay it out fully once he managed to wake you up.

Now he only had to rouse you.

He arched his eyebrows, thinking of how he could do that without getting his cock bitten off.

You were a very smart and adult woman, but still you took your naps very seriously, acting like a whiny child whenever someone interrupted them.

He crawled on top of the bed, curling up in a ball below you, pressing his knees to his shoulders as he gave a tentative lick on your naked labia, his tongue insinuating between your folds until he found your sweet nectar.

Your hips moved against his face, just barely, an involuntary movement of your body. You were still asleep.

He gave a full lick, as far as your position allowed.

You fussed in your sleep, maybe mumbling his name, or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He lifted your leg just enough to have access to your clit, the tip of his tongue toying with it, tapping it a couple times before he flexed his appendage and rubbed it against your sensitive spot, first in tiny licks, then in circular motions.

“Yoongi,” this time you called for real.

Finally happy with the result, he put down your leg and laid down behind you, placing his palm on your belly and sliding it under the shirt, feeling your naked skin.

“Kitten?” He called, making sure that you were actually awake.

“Yes.” You replied, your voice groggy.

“I want inside.” He murmured at your ear.

“Yes.” You confirmed, mind still a bit hazy with sleep.

“Yes what?” He asked with an arrogant chuckle.

“Inside. Please.” You whimpered, your hand stretching behind you and grabbing his sex.

“Let it be, Kitten. I’ll take care of it.” He slapped your hand away before he wrapped his fingers around his shaft, rubbing his tip against you. “You want it like this?” He said, nibbling your shoulder. “Want me from behind?”

You nodded, lifting your upper leg and hooking it back over his hip, offering him access. “You’re so good at spoons.”

He snickered. “Told you it was good.” He slid the tip in slowly, stretching your hole as the thick, red, spongy head breeched your inner cave. “Remember when we played twenty question here, in my house?” He said, voice raspy as he slid in all the way, stilling only once he bottomed out.

“I do.” You replied with difficulty, through gritted teeth. “I rubbed you through your pants unti you came.”

“You were fingering yourself while jerking me off.” He murmured. “You were there, so open about your pleasure, so unashamed.” He kissed you below your ear, slowly sliding out.

You whimpered as he parted from you, lifting your shirt and pushing his hand to your chest, his fingers immediately tweaking your nipple. You turned your head, trying to meet his lips, almost getting a crick in your neck at the effort. He slid in with a deep stroke, bending over you and joining your mouths.

“In that moment I realised I had to have you.” He groaned against your mouth.

“We hadn’t even kissed and you were thrusting yourself into my hand.” You mewled as he rubbed against the tender tissue inside you. “God, you always hit my sweet spot like this.” You cried out, giving him a few squeezes.

“So tight.” He cried out, purring against your ear. “And I hadn’t kissed you because I was afraid.” He said, almost as if he weren’t trying to possess every inch of you, as if it wasn’t the most difficult thing he had ever done, to stay perfectly still inside you as you milked him.

“Afraid.” You said, provokingly. “Ten dates in two months and you were afraid.”

“I knew that the moment I got my tongue in your mouth, I would never slow down.” He murmured, pulling out just barely before ramming into you. “I wanted to hear you moan for me from the first time I heard your voice. So soft. So sexy.” He groaned against your ear.

His hand moved to the other breast, your gaze focusing downwards, on his skeletal fingers, on the way they spread and constricted around your flesh. “Yoongi, I wanna cum.” You moaned, grinding your hips in circles while he gave tiny thrust that rubbed the head of his cock against your g-spot. “So good.” Your hand reached behind, grabbing his ass cheek and sinking your nails into the flesh, imprinting five red crescents into the skin, scratching it, marking it.

His other arm slid beneath you, fumbling a little as he substituted the one on your breasts, while the other one, a bit freer, moved up, to slip his fingers into your mouth. “Suck them, Kitten. Moan around them.” He said, pressing his index and middle finger on your tongue. “Make them wet before I rub them on your clit.” He murmured, giving small circles with his hips, feeling you clench around him.

“Close.” You moaned while he moved his fingers away from your tongue, right on your sensitive bud.

“Come on. Cum for me.” He groaned, rubbing his palm delicately over your nipple, teasing it barely, only the tip meeting the rough skin of his calluses. “Cum on my cock. Claim it. Come on.” He said, his voice strained, his hips pushing with quick small strokes, focusing on caressing and pressing against your sweet spot.

“Yoo—” You tried to speak his name but your mouth stayed open, a loud scream ripping from your throat, as it all became too much. “Yoongs, wait, fuck, too good!” You screamed as his fingers kept teasing you insistently, overstimulating you. “Yoongs, fuck, another!” You felt his thrusts become faster, harder as your second high approached.

“No no no no, please, stop!” You screeched, trying to tug his wrist away, while he kept it against your mound, tucked in tight.

“You know the word, ____.” He growled as he gave a few final strokes inside you, your whole body shaking with effort, your second high so incredibly strong that it took your voice away, your ears filled with a shrill beeping sound. “So good.” He hummed pushing your back into his chest as he stayed deep inside you, coating your cunt with his seed as he gave a couple tentative thrusts. “So fucking good, Kitten.”

“Yoongi,” you murmured with your voice hoarse.

“The whole neighbourhood will know about you getting that good dick,” He teased, slipping out of you and holding you tight, rolling you on top of him, and then on the other side of the bed, where he had laid the special blanket just for you.

“There’s the blankie.” You said, surprised.

“Yup. I laid the blankie for you.” He said, as he noticed you sitting up and tearing your t-shirt off your torso, throwing it away before you rolled your body on your front.

You smiled and nuzzled into the soft microfiber, anticipating the special treatment you were about to get.

“Are you ready, Kitten?” He asked, rubbing your ass, then letting his finger walk up your spine, carding through your hair and grabbing it, massaging your scalp with his hooked fingers.

“Yes, please.” You said, half still dizzy with your previous orgasms, and half dizzy with the anticipation for the ones that were about to come.

“Would you like to stay on your front?” He asked, stretching to the bedside table and unplugging the device, placing it away from your curious eyes.

“Yes? And then turn around?” You asked, turning your head to look at him, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Maybe you could play with my boobs, choke me a little, then fuck me again?” You said, arching your back and pushing your ass up, trying to lure him in, and at the same time rubbing your sensitive nipples against the soft fabric.

“Greedy little beast.” He said, patting your head affectionately.

You pushed your face against it, like an obedient little cat.

“Stay put, Kitten. I’ll come back in a second.” He said, dashing for the entry room lightning fast, rummaging in his backpack for his phone, finding it and murmuring a “aha!” before he headed back to the bedroom the small toy still placed in his palm, his fingers wrapped tight around it.

As he entered the bedroom he slowed down, looking at you kneeling with your ass up, your front pressed against the mattress, your arm trapped underneath you as your fingers played peekaboo between your legs, tickling your folds like the long, spindly legs of a spider.

“You got started without me?” He asked, looking at you with his phone in his hand, his other palm unfolding as he let the vaginal vibrator dangle from his fingers pinching the small cord that simplified extraction.

“Fuck it, I love you.” You chuckled, pushing your fingers inside, feeling how deeply he had stretched you.

“You only love me for the sex.” He said, grinning, making the vibrator swing back and forth like a pendulum.

“That’s not true.” You said, whimpering as you hit a really good spot. You giggled. “I also love you because you’re fucking filthy.” You teased.

He grinned his signature gummy smile and brought the toy to his face, his lips parting wide and wrapping around it, sucking it in his mouth.

Your eyes went wide at the gesture, the cord dangling like the tail of a mouse caught in the cat’s clutches.

He crawled behind you, placing down his phone as he caressed the back of you thighs, grabbing your ass and massaging it with his firm, strong hands.

“Put it in?” You asked, wiggling your butt in his grasp.

His right hand parted from your skin, pinching the cord and tugging at it, the toy popping out with a loud noise. “My filthy babe wants her cunt filled?” He asked, licking at his cum as it has oozed out of your slit, coating your inner thighs.

“Please, Yoongi.” You purred, using your fingers to part your labia.

He snickered and placed the toy on your entrance, letting it slide in one millimeter at the time.

You felt every single second of it, the slightly oval shape calling for a barely-there stretch at the tip, but hitting an almost-burning sensation once you reached the widest part, Yoongi devilishly stopping it there, his other hand disappearing from your leg.

That’s when the vibration started. Slow, steady, almost imperceptible.

“Yoongs...” You whined, stretching the vowels in a whining tone.

“Oh, quiet.” He shushed you, putting down the phone to caress your spine, “Be a good girl.” He murmured, scratching your butt before slapping it playfully. “You should keep up with the work out. Look at this ass.” He said, before letting his teeth sink in it.

You screamed, the toy finally sliding all the way in.

The vibrations started propagating inside you, together with his teeth tightening on your flesh. He would leave a mark for sure. It was only a matter of how harsh it would be, how long it would last.

He parted from your butt, pondering for a second whether he thought it a good idea to run his tongue down the junction of the two ass cheeks, teasing the hole in between.

Not yet. He felt like he should discuss it with you first.

To silence his doubts he parted from you, admiring the view, letting it eventually suggest him how to proceed.

He wished he could preserve the moment in his mind forever, even if he couldn’t quite see your face, your pretty nose scrunched and eyes shut as you focused on the feeling between your legs, trying to make it good enough to lead you to pleasure once more.

With his phone he let the intensity of the vibration grow just a bit. A very, very tiny bit.

“More.” You mewled, your fingers rubbing your clit.

There was his suggestion.

Sliding his hand up against your side, then forward, near your belly, he managed to take control of your wrist, pushing it away and trapping it behind your back. “I’m gonna give you more, but that’s all you’re gonna get, Kitten.” He warned, letting his thumb increase the vibration on the touch screen of his phone.

“Fuck it. Yes.” You said, as the stimulus became medium-intense.

And then mild again. “Don’t mess with me please, just please!” You cried out, writhing against nothing, parting your legs wider as he noticed the cord hang between your leg twitching with the tight contractions of your cunt.

“Oh, I shouldn’t?” He raised the controller all the way up.

“YOONGI!” You screamed, your body out of control as your legs gave out, pushing your hips against the mattress, the soft fiber of the blanket feeling divine on the delicate tip of your clit.

And then again the vibration quieted down, your brow furrowing as you felt your eyes get watery, huffing out, panting and grunting as you looked for relief, grinding against the bed desperately.

With a grin he let the vibration flutter on a middle ground, giving you a fleeting feeling of stronger and weaker stimulation.

“How does your tiny cunt feel, Kitten? Is it tight? Wet? Warm?” He asked, provokingly.

“It feels very— Yoongi!” You called again as he let you begin talking comfortably and then turned the vibrations all the way up, making you tear up and cry out his name.

“That’s right.” He said. “It feels me.” He toyed with the cursor on the upper side of the screen, letting it oscillate among the higher values. “It feels only me. Because that’s my cunt.” He said, talking over your small hiccups and whines. “And it’s the only cunt I want to be inside.” He snarled, bringing the controller down low again, your desperate sniffling making him feel compassionate as he let the vibrations go to the maximum and left them there, his torso rising over you as he let a dollop of spit fall from his lips to your puckered hole, his hand leaving your wrist and spreading over your ass, his thumb spreading his spit and pressing enough to cause a stimulation but gently, not to violate your delicate entrance.

“I’m so close.” You cried out, panting, your mouth so dry as you felt the wet slide of his finger between your ass cheeks, on the sensitive skin of your anus, where even the slightest outer pressure echoed inside tenfold.

“Cum for me.” He groaned, picking up your hips and laying his front against your back, rutting his crotch against the seam of your ass.

“I’m— Oh—” You stayed silent as the high rushed over you, an incredible amount of wetness pouring out of your slit, getting caught in the blanket, just the way it was supposed to, the double layer protecting the sheets below. “Oh, Yoongs, babe.” You said, your whole body falling down, your legs kicking and twitching as the vibration stayed too high on your still delicate spot.

“I wanna ride your face, quick I’m gonna c—” You tried to focus on not squirting again, waiting for him to get in place.

Mercifully, he turned down the vibrations, laying on his back, parting your knees and sliding below your pelvis, his mouth immediately finding your clit while you raised your front on your elbows, so you could make more room for him — but also to feel your breasts hang heavily, and to tease your nipples while the whole scene carried out.

Yoongi started sucking almost immediately, one of his hands spread on your ass, rubbing it and squeezing it, the other one toying with the controller, giving you that rhythmic increasing and decreasing stimulation while you got used to the feel of him on your clit.

And once more you were close, your inner muscles shaking violently as he hummed against you, clicking his tongue fast against your delicate bundle of nerves.

And just like that, your hips started undulating gently above him, giving him the sign to leave the vibrations high up as you moved your weight on your hands, raising your upper body to look a his eyes focused on your bouncing tits, on your parted mouth, on your eyes, rolling shut as you gushed on him, your cum covering his upper chest as you grabbed your left breast in your palm, constricting it in your painfully tight fist, while your hips went wild on him, fucking your clit into his mouth, moving so hard and fast that he lost his grip on it while you rubbed yourself all over his face, meeting his nose, his chin and simply chasing the feel of the hard surface of his lineaments against your overstimulated clitoris.

He basked in it, after all the time it had taken to have you this wild, this reckless while his mouth worked his magic on you. You had began your experience with him as a shy novice in the art of getting head, but now here you were, spreading your wetness all over his nose and chin and lips and dammit, forehead too, riding him with the prowess of a tiger, glorious in all your ruthless lust.

He was aroused by your confidence and it took him a while to realise that you had collapsed over him, crying, begging, your legs kicking against the mattress while your hand had left your breast and had tightened its grip into his hair, keeping his face still first while he tried to move it side to side. Now oversensitive, with tears in your eyes, you pushed his head away, down, off of you.

“Yoongi. Please. Oh, god. Icycle, Yoongi. Icycle.” You sobbed, your voice breaking as he quickly found the cord and pulled the vibrator out of you.

And there you were, laying barely alive on the bed, his head under your hips, the toy vibrating on the bed, somewhere.

He allowed himself one brief second before he lifted your hips and slid out from below you. “Kitten,” He said, worried, wiping his face and chest with a corner of the blanket while he switched off the toy, trying to turn you around, on your back, so he could see you properly.

Obeying to his insistent hands, you turned, showing him your eyes rimmed with tears, your wild hair, your chest, still shaking with sobs and hiccups.

“Poor Kitten.” He said, caressing your face. “You had to use your safeword, baby? Are you okay?” He asked, cupping your cheek and kissing you.

You immediately wrapped yourself around him as he laid on top of you, your lower lip pouting. “I want you closer.” You said, grinding your hips against his hard sex.

“Need to be fucked by my cock?” He asked. “Again?” With a gentle expression, he parted from you enough to pump his length a couple times before you felt him enter you.

The sensation was different. With the vibration gone, all you felt was the fullness, the thrusting motion that he started straight away now that your cunt was slippery and wide.

“Hard and fast, love?” He asked, checking on you.

You nodded. “If possible, then yes.” You said. “Can I please touch myself? I’m not sure I can cum without after that...” You explained, his head nodding as he already dove for your tits, tightening his hand around your neck — more precisely your jugular — while his mouth focused on your left nipple.

You felt him beginning to hammer into you, at the beginning with slow, thorough slides that had you feeling every single vein, from the tip to the base. And then he simply focused on the angle, your head growing dizzy as you gurgled his name, helpless, desperate, horny out of your mind, completely fucked out.

“Does it feel good, Kitten?” He asked, releasing your breast and focusing on your neck, biting and leaving a few bruises and hickeys around.

“Always.” You whispered, meeting his thrusts.

“Then move in with me.” He said, pouncing on you in the most unexpected moment.

“What?” You said, trying to open your eyes, to focus on his expression, his crunched nose, his lips parted and his hair sticking to his forehead with wet locks, the vein on his neck popping out every time he thrusted in and bit his lip in an attempt to control himself.

“Move.” Thrust. “In.” Thrust. He said, grunting.

He hit a very good angle, your fingers stilling on your clit. “Yoongi—” With a very smooth stroke, he made your eyes roll close, your lips parting in a tiny word. Very tiny.

“Yes.” You sibilated.

“Yes?” He asked again.

He had probably fucked you dumb and brainless.

“Yes.” You whispered again.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good in our home.” He said, ramming in with renewed enthusiasm, finding a speed and an intensity you didn’t think his delicate body could muster.

“Our home.” You murmured, pushing your heels into his butt and meeting his thursts with impatient little moans as you felt your last high approach, your eyes rolling shut as he tightened the pressure on your veins and finally collapsed on top of you, your fingers strumming your clit a couple more times before you felt that definite clenching; his mouth releasing a tiny hum as he gave two small strokes, his lungs releasing a long exhale.

“You’re moving in.” He said, exhausted on top of you. “I love you.”

In the small limbo between death and life, in the postorgasmic bliss of the French ‘small death’, you wore a small smile. “You fucked me dumb enough to make me say yes.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard my D is your kryptonite.” He joked, giggling weakly.

“This was probably your best performance, mr. Min.” You said, patting his head. “Really fucked me dumb. Cunnilingus so good I cried. It’s a ten across the board, love.”

“Well, now that you’re moving in I’ll have a lot more time to defeat my new record. Upgrade. Improve. Elevate.” He nibbled your nipple. “Outdo myself.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. Good: getting the D anytime. Bad: having multiple near death experiences in a week. I might have to reconsider moving in.” You mumbled, combing his hair.

“I’ll simply have to keep you dumbfucked twenty-four-seven.” He pondered. “Can do.”

You giggled. “Can do.”

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #suga smut #suga x reader #yoongi fanfiction #suga fanfiction #bts smut #bangtan smut #bts blog #bts fanfiction #yoongi x y/n #suga x y/n #min yoongi

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do-y0u-have-to-let-it-linger · 3 years

Note

Hi! Can I get a ship? I'm an INFP, straight girl with social anxiety. I listen to music all the time. (mostly rock) I never leave the house without my earphones. I enjoy movie nights, reading books (romance and mystery are my favourite genres), playing videogames, goofing around with my friends. My friends would describe me as kind, helpful and loyal. I'm really into photography. I wanted to be a photographer as a kid, but it's just a hobby nowadays. I'm a hopeless romantic and a night owl. It takes time for me to open up to people, but once I'm there I can be pretty talkative. I'm 5'8" tall, I have half long brown hair, dark brown eyes and I wear glasses. If I have to describe my style it would be somewhat 80s grunge. Thank you!

(tw: swearing and eating)

I ship you with Scott Summers!

You never got along very well with Scott Summers.

He always came across as a bit of a preppy asshole. Not that his preppy-ness was necessarily correlated to his asshole-ness, but it did seem to enhance it.

You may think that not getting along perfectly with some random boy who happened to live in the (large) building you live in is not much of a problem, but you are incorrect.

When your best friend (and dorm-mate) of ten years, Jean, is on a so-called "superhero team" with and is good friends with said boy, it is not exactly easy to avoid him.

Since Jean's biological family was not around, she made her own.

The first member of her so-called found family was you, who arrived just a day before she did. When she first entered your dorm, you were adjusting all of your newly unpacked trinkets. You were both young enough to immediately become friends, no questions asked, and your friendship stuck. You two tended to keep to yourselves and each other, until you two were older.

When Jean was invited to join the X-Men with some of her friends, you couldn’t have been prouder. The problem was that when you met this other part of her found family, it did not go well. None of you clicked whenever in the same room, and Scott immediately made fun of you the moment he met you. You ultimately decided to avoid her other friends, but be supportive of them. Not because you couldn’t handle Scott, but because you didn’t want to put Jean in a position where she had to choose between you and them. Overall, this just made Jean desperately want you and her other friends to get along.

"Come on, just sneak out with us this one time!" Jean was sitting on the edge of your bed, making puppy dog eyes at you and clasping her hands together.

She always tried to convince you to hang out with her friend group. Even if that meant, in this case, convincing you to break (very reasonable) rules with them.

"No. Absolutely not. Jubilee is going to try to 'catch me a man', and Scott's going to try to be funny but just end up making fun of me. Besides, why would I break school rules and steal a car for a trip to the mall?"

"Because you haven't seen Empire Strikes Back yet, and I bought you a ticket for 1:00 PM today."

"Shit. You're evil, you know that? This is unfair. You know me too well."

Jean beamed at you. "Thank you, I try. Now, get dressed, you're going to love this."

"I am dressed, and you can’t make demands. I’m the one being convinced here!"

"I will not be pestered by Jubilee's pleas to let her give you a makeover! Just throw on jeans instead of your sweatpants or something! Now chop, chop! We're leaving in 10 minutes!"

"I'm sorry, 10 minutes?"

"I knew if you had more than 15, you would change your mind. Meet me by the front door when you're ready to go!"

After Jean left your shared room, you threw on some different clothes and hastily grabbed everything you needed to go. With your sneakers in your hands, you ran into the school's kitchen and shoved a granola bar in your mouth. As you were hopping, trying to force your shoes on your feet, someone spoke from behind you.

"Well, you look elegant as ever."

You froze, squinted your eyes, and clenched your jaw. Well, as much as you could with the previously mentioned granola bar in your mouth.

Scott Summers.

You swallowed and turned around, plastering on a smile in preparation to respond to his sarcasm.

"Well, you know me, unwaveringly ethereal."

Once you finished your attempt to keep the peace, your grin dropped off your face and you went to tie on your shoes, occasionally having to push your glasses back up your nose as you did so.

Jean then started talking to you while making her way into the kitchen.

"Come on, we need to go before Charles's class ends- well, well, well, look at you two!" she spoke in a sing-song tone at the end.

"Trust me, there's no 'you two' here." Scott hissed at her. Hissed! The audacity, would it be so terrible for him to be theoretical friends with you?

"Calm down, I just mean that I'm glad you two are talking," Jean said. "But we need to go. Like- now."

Jean then grabbed you by the arm and started to pull you out of the room, wiggling her eyebrows at Scott on the way out. Scott got up to trail behind you two, if he could glare at people with the glasses he wore, then he would have been glaring at her.

You elbowed Jean in the side and whisper shouted at her.

"What was that? What was the purpose of the eyebrow wiggle?"

"What eyebrow wiggle? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're a menace to society, you know that?"

"I am aware that you don't actually think I'm a menace, but I appreciate the compliment." She leaned down and messed up your hair. "Now let's move it!"

When you got to the minivan you were all "borrowing" from Charles, most everyone was already there. Kurt, Jubilee, and Peter took the back seats, and Ororo was sitting in the driver's seat.

You walked to sit shotgun, but Jean sped up to beat you to the seat.

Suspicious.

Squinting at her, you went to sit in the middle row, where Scott also made to sit.

It was silent for the first minute of the drive until Jubilee tried to strike up a conversation.

"So! Y/N, I'm so glad you decided to hang out with us! I love your outfit. Ooh! Peter, hand me my bag! I have a scrunchie that will match perfectly."

Peter looked at her with mock disbelief. "Yeah. dude, make me reach behind my seat and into the trunk of the car."

Kurt clearly did not want to be part of this conflict.

Jubilee smiled sweetly at Peter. "Shut up and grab me my bag, please?"

Peter sighed half-sarcastically. "Yes ma'am."

Well, Jean's friends were just as you remember (aka slightly crazy).

You heard Jean's voice in your mind "If you don't wear that scrunchie it will genuinely hurt Jubilee's feelings, and I will never forgive you."

You looked at her through the mirror and raised your eyebrows.

Jubilee's voice took back your attention. "Here it is! Scotty, I can't reach. Can you hand this to her?"

Scott visibly winced at the nickname "Scotty" but handed you the scrunchie anyway. After trying to hide your amusement at the use of "Scotty", you attempted to put your hair up with the scrunchie, and you saw Jean smile. You were determined to make friends with these people for Jean.

"Thanks, Jubilee," You smiled at her. "So, how do I look?"

Scott chimed in immediately. "Like you're twelve."

"Ok, shut up Scott. You look cool, Y/N." Ororo gave you a thumbs up from the front seat. They were all clearly told to make friends with you by Jean in the same way you were. Well... told or threatened. Who's to say.

The car ride was awkward, to say the least. When you finally arrived at the mall and exited the car, you felt like you could finally breathe. You spoke first while you were all walking into the mall.

"So, how are we planning on killing time before Empire?"

"Well, Jubilee wanted to pick up some more eyeshadow with me, and Peter, Kurt, and Ororo are probably going to buy even more colored leather jackets," Jean said.

"Where does that leave me and your wallflower?" Scott asked Jean. You turned to look at him, attempting to make your lack of amusement clear. "What?" He shrugged, "It's true!"

"Ok, first of all, she's not actually that shy, you're just mean. Second of all, I was hoping you two could go into the book shop together until we're done."

Your eyes widened as you turned to Jean, silently begging her not to leave you and Scott alone.

"What? Why are you looking at me like I'm crazy? Maybe I thought you would try to get along because you both love me and I want you to be friends!"

Scott responded first. "You're totally guilt-tripping us right now."

"Yes!" Jean responded. "Yes I am, and you better be feeling guilty. Now, we're all going inside, and you are going into that bookstore together, you are going to bond over your cheesy dreams about falling in love, and, Scott, you are going to be kind! Or I will be very upset!"

You and Scott looked at each other (slightly afraid) before you turned to Jean and nodded your head at her.

"Ok. Let's go, Scott." You looked at him and he nodded at you both of you then started to head to the bookstore.

In the door of the shop, you glanced at him awkwardly. "So... is there a specific section you want to visit? Or-"

"Uh, I usually just... wander." He was bouncing on his heels.

"Oh! Ok, uh... where you lead I will follow!"

He spun around and started to walk aimlessly, actually trying to make conversation.

"So- you take photos?"

"...How did you know that?"

"I've seen you. That sounds creepy, I just mean that I saw you with a camera once when you walked Jean to training. It seemed nice. Only a dumbass would own a nice camera and not use it."

"How kind of you to not see me as a dumbass," you mumbled as you ran your hand across the book binds. "Do you have any hobbies?"

"Not really to be honest. Well, actually- I like... cars."

"...Cars. Huh. Elaborate."

"My brother, his name is Alex, taught me how to fix up cars when I was younger. Ooh- recently we found this beautiful 1962 AMC Rambler- I mean, it was basically a pile of garbage, but we're fixing it up."

"What's a Rambler?"

"W- 'What's a Rambler?'" He looked at you like you were speaking another language. "A 1962 AMC Rambler is only the car of my dreams!"

"The 'car of your dreams'?"

"Uh, yeah. What- do you not have a dream car?"

You laughed at him, "No? I don’t know that much about cars."

"You don’t have to know shit about cars to have a dream car! Come on, you don't have any car you would want to drive?"

"A school bus."

"...What do you mean."

"I mean- I bet I could live in a school bus. It's big, has a lot of windows, it's yellow." Scott was surprisingly easy to talk to.

"A school bus. Huh."

"I thought of that on the spot, it's not a long-term dream of mine."

"No, I see the appeal. I do think it's weird that you listed it being yellow as one of its positive attributes though."

"Holy shit. Holy shit!"

"What? What's the problem?"

You grabbed the book you spotted and held it out to him with your arms fully outstretched, it almost hit his nose. "Do you know what this is?"

Scott's hands appeared at the top of the book, and he pushed it down so you could see his confused expression. "A... book?"

"Very funny, Scotty, but no this is not just a book. This is a sequel."

He crossed his arms across his chest. "... 'Scotty'? I'm gonna kill Lee."

"Who's Lee?"

"Jubilee."

"If you can call her 'Lee' why can’t she call you 'Scotty'?"

"Because 'Scotty' makes me sound like I'm twelve!"

"Well, according to you, this scrunchie makes me look twelve. So I guess we're even, Scotty."

"I see why you and Jean are friends. You’re both evil."

"I called her evil not 10 minutes ago! Look at us, 'bonding' and all."

"Speaking of a 10 minutes ago, and that whole 'twelve' thing, I'm sorry."

"What do you mean?"

"Sorry for calling you twelve... and a wallflower. You seem... neat."

"Thanks... I think."

"Neat is a good thing."

"I'm kinda messy actually."

"I meant neat as in like- cool. Plus, you’re the first friend-ish person I've had that also wears glasses!"

You smiled at each other for a moment.

This was amusing.

He was amusing.

Unfortunately, someone popped the bubble encasing you and Scott. "Wow, 'friendish'? That's an upgrade from them low-key hating each other."

You whipped your head around to see Peter and Jean standing on the other side of the aisle, clearly having been observing and talking about you.

Scott spoke first. "How long have you two been standing there?"

"Long enough," Jean smiled. "You two get along."

"...So?" Scott asked.

"So, about an hour ago that seemed completely impossible."

An hour? That couldn’t be possible. "Wait, what time is it?"

Jean responded. "12:45, you’ve sure been chatting for a long time."

Scott cleared his throat and turned to you, "So, uh, you should buy that book, and then we should head to the movie theater room thingie."

You looked back at him. "Yeah! Ok, so... yeah."

After you and Scott walked away, Peter leaned over to whisper to Jean. "Well, that was a long glance. We've really gotta lock 'em in a closet together or something."

Jean shoved Peter, and you all went about your mall trip as you did before, except that now you might have a new friend... ish.

#tw swearing #scott summers x reader #x men #scott summers #tw eating #writer's block #am i right?#i really hope this is good #i did research on cars for this #also i know hank has glasses but him and scott aren't really friends they're more like a teacher student thing so shut up

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