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flipomatic · 1 year ago

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Face First

Summary: Falling in love? No, Taki didn’t think of it that way. This was more like tripping on the overpass stairs and smashing her face straight into the cement, a sudden feeling that engulfed her instantly in the immense longing for another person. The words of this song, the truest words from Tomori’s soul, struck straight through her like the echoing of a drum pounding in her chest in perfect time with the rapid beat of her heart. The drum that, oh no she was supposed to be playing.

Word Count: 2300

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In terms of first impressions, Taki wished she had made a better one. As she sat around the table at Hazawa Coffee, reminding herself not to stare at the Afterglow member who took their drink order, her simple introduction was irritatingly supplemented by Soyo and Sakiko’s comments about her older sister. This wasn’t the foot she wanted to start on with the new band, she thought as she reminded them that her sister had nothing to do with this. They didn’t seem to understand why she cared about the distinction.

More than anything, Taki wanted to make an impression that was all her own. Being in this band was her chance to start doing that, to show off her drumming to the world and be known as more than just Maki’s little sister. It was a chance to be herself, even if she couldn’t put that desire into words.

As she tried to establish herself with this new group, so too did she form impressions of her new bandmates. She had been speaking with Sakiko via text for a while to organize the band, and already had an idea of what she would be like. The other three, however, were completely new to her.

They didn’t make too strong of an impression, not at first. Soyo seemed polite and overly friendly, while Mutsumi gave off more of the opposite sort of vibe. Their vocalist sat across from Taki at the table, quietly fidgeting as Sakiko talked up her lyrics. When she handed a notebook over to Soyo, Taki was able to take a peek at the lyrics. With a single glance she could see that they were emotionally driven, just from seeing a handful of lines.

Even after they parted ways for the day, Taki couldn’t stop thinking about those lyrics. She wondered what kind of song they would become, what kind of meaning they held.

How had those words come from the slouching, quiet, stuttering person who had sat across from her? Tomori had barely spoken a few words the entire time they were at the restaurant, let alone with any confidence. It didn’t make any sense and, at this point, Taki didn’t understand her at all.

However, she withheld judgement until rehearsal. After all, a musician spoke through their music much more than their words.

But the practice only made it harder for Taki to understand Tomori. Their new singer couldn’t sing in front of a mirror, let alone a group of people. Even at karaoke she was too shy to sing at first, clutching her notebook to her chest with her cheeks dusted pink at the mere thought of picking a song to sing. As Taki walked her through the steps to search, she did slowly settle on choosing a tune.

When Tomori sang into the microphone, still seated next to Taki on the couch, her voice was so quiet it could hardly be heard through the speakers. She stared down towards her knees as she sang, at the cover of the notebook she’d been writing in earlier.

A loud rattling noise came from Taki’s other side, the sound of the maracas, as Sakiko leapt to her feet and cheered. “You can do it Tomori-san!”

Tomori’s voice caught in her throat and she looked up, turning her head so that her pale gold eyes locked directly on Sakiko. From where she was sitting, Taki felt as if Tomori was staring straight past her.

The next words of the song came stronger through the mic, louder and more coherent. Taki could hear Sakiko shaking the maracas again as the slightest hint of a smile graced Tomori’s lips.

Taki merely watched her sing and listened to the sound of her growing confidence. There was something about her, something that drew Taki in. She wasn’t sure what it was, couldn’t break down why, but she wanted to know more.

From that point forward their rehearsals ran more smoothly. They wrote a song with the new lyrics Tomori created, called Haru Hikage. Sakiko wrote the music to go along with the words and sent everyone their parts before the next rehearsal. Taki practiced reading the drum part in advance so she wouldn’t be sight reading it at rehearsal. Even though she’d been playing the drum for years, she knew better than to go to rehearsal blind. She could hear the guitar, bass, and keyboard in her mind as she went through the motions of the piece. She wondered how the vocals would sound, how Tomori would blend with the rest.

When their next studio date came, Taki was ready to play the song.

The band set up in their new usual positions, facing the studio mirror as always. To Taki’s right, Saki stood at her keyboard with her hands tense and ready against the keys. Mutsumi stood in front of her, silently prepared to begin. On the other side of the band, Soyo leaned back slightly with her fingers ready to pluck the first note.

Directly in front of Taki, stood Tomori. Though she had her back to Taki, she could still see her face in the mirror. For once, there was not a hint of nerves in her eyes. Both of her hands were wrapped tightly around the wireless microphone, holding it close to her face.

Taki lifted her drumsticks up and counted them in.

The song began with the piano, and then the guitar easing them in. Throughout the piece the drums played a more subtle role, which Taki kept in mind with light hits against them and the cymbals.

Tomori’s vocals joined in after the opening phrase and the music swelled to meet her. Though Taki had seen the lyrics before, this was her first time hearing them out loud. She listened as Tomori sang about being lonely, about writing words down and failing to reach others.

Even as she hit the drums in perfect time, Taki heard the meaning clearly. She absorbed the lyrics as Tomori sang about finding friends whose fates were tied together. Her voice carried more emotion than Taki had ever heard from her before, laced with something intangible.

Taki’s own heart trembled in her chest as the song went on, resonating with the emotion and message within it. She knew all too well what it was like not to be understood, to long for connection and only be seen as someone you weren’t.

“In the world revealed by that light were people dear to me, in full bloom.”

Taki’s hands stuttered in their next hit, stunned by the passion of the line as it struck her. The band members were the people Tomori had been waiting for, the ones she had been searching for to understand her. She had finally found them and could convey her feelings clearly. Wasn’t that what Taki wanted too?

Even though this song wasn’t written about Taki, it echoed her thoughts as if somehow spoken from her lips.

“I've learned that spring is warm.” Tomori continued to sing strongly. “And so I shed tears for me and for you.”

This was Tomori’s song; these were the words that radiated from her soul. Though her appearance hadn’t changed in the last 60 seconds, Taki could’ve sworn she glowed like the sun peeking through on a cloudy day. After weeks, she finally understood who Tomori was. Taki swore she could fall in love with her like this, in just a moment she already had.

Falling in love? No, Taki didn’t think of it that way. This was more like tripping on the overpass stairs and smashing her face straight into the cement, a sudden feeling that engulfed her instantly in the immense longing for another person. The words of this song, the truest words from Tomori’s soul, struck straight through her like the echoing of a drum pounding in her chest in perfect time with the rapid beat of her heart. The drum that, oh no she was supposed to be playing.

Sakiko had waved the band to a halt mid song. Four sets of eyes were locked on Taki, each carrying varying degrees of annoyance. Taki’s cheeks burned as she melted under their stares.

“I’m so sorry!” Taki exclaimed, resetting her hands into their proper positions and trying to ignore the heat creeping up her neck. “Let’s try it again.”

“If there’s a problem with the part, let me know so I can make changes.” Sakiko replied calmly before turning back to her keyboard.

Tomori blinked a few times slowly at Taki, an unreadable question contained in her eyes that Taki yearned to understand, before facing the front without a word.

As they began to play the song again, Taki reigned in her pounding heart to play the drums. She had to pick herself up off the metaphorical pavement and fulfil her role in this group, after all. Even so, as they rehearsed she couldn’t keep her eyes off Tomori, not anymore.

She would never forget that first playthrough of the song or the feelings it sparked within her.

After the rehearsal, the band split up to all walk home as they usually did. The sun was already mostly set in the sky, leaving long shadows and dark corners on the streets. Taki found herself on the same train as Tomori and Sakiko, which had happened after previous rehearsals as well. The two of them were talking quietly nearby when they were only one stop away from their usual exit.

“Are you going to be alright walking home alone?” Sakiko was asking in a hushed voice, a worried frown plastered on her lips. “I deeply regret that I will not be able to join you.”

“I’ll be ok.” Came Tomori’s quiet reply, the words slow but with an underlying confidence.

“Hmm…” Sakiko didn’t sound convinced as she glanced out the window.

Taki’s ear perked up at this, she only went one stop further than Tomori and didn’t have to be anywhere for a while. Her sister certainly wasn’t counting the minutes until she arrived home. There was another feeling growing in Taki, the desire to protect her vocalist from harm. Besides, wasn’t this the perfect opportunity to get to know Tomori better?

“I can walk you home.” Taki interjected into the conversation, drawing a surprised gasp from Tomori.

“Really?” Tomori asked as she turned to meet Taki’s eyes, a smile adorning her expression.

Taki’s cheeks felt warm again, this time for a different reason. “Of course. It’s no big deal.”

“Thank you so much!” Now Tomori was beaming, an expression that was probably powerful enough to stop Taki’s heart if she was exposed to it for too long. She broke eye contact to prevent that from happening. Sakiko was smirking, just the slightest hint of one, and if Taki had more time she would’ve said something about it. They had known each other from before the band formed, Taki knew that, but something about their relationship gave her pause.

There was no time to ask though, as the train was arriving at the station. Taki rose to her feet while the train slid to a halt, and then followed Tomori out onto the platform as Sakiko watched from within. After that Tomori led the way out of the station and down the street.

Now that it was just the two of them, Taki was able to ask her some questions. She asked about school, they went to different schools, and about other hobbies, she liked to collect things, and about her family. Tomori gave short answers, but they were sincere. Taki learned a few things, though not nearly as much as she had in the initial performance of Haru Hikage earlier that day. She didn’t ask about Sakiko, even though now she had plenty of time.

Instead, Taki shared about herself, about how she learned to play the drums and why she wanted to join the band. She thought about talking about the practice earlier and how she had connected with the song, but the embarrassment over freezing in the middle prevented her from doing so. She wanted Tomori to think well of her; some stories didn’t need to be repeated.

When the pair reached an overpass, they climbed up the stairs together. When they were halfway across Tomori pointed to a building on the other side. “I can go the rest of the way.” The sun had fully descended beneath the horizon by now.

Taki’s feet came to a halt at the top of the next set of stairs, watching as Tomori began to descend them. “Alright, see you at practice.”

“Thank you again.” Tomori looked back up the steps, only half visible in the streetlamp light. “Bye bye.”

As Tomori turned and vanished down those stairs, Taki thought she should’ve been thanking her instead. She wanted to thank her for her Haru Hikage, for the band that finally might see her. Taki remained silent as she watched Tomori go.

Once she had vanished, Taki turned back towards the other side of the overpass. She descended the other steps slowly, lost in her own thoughts.

If Tomori needed someone to walk her home, Taki would keep doing it. If she needed someone to help her with music or set up a mic stand, Taki would do that too. Or, if she wanted help with a different relationship, if she already had feelings for someone else, Taki didn’t want to think about that, but she was prepared for it. As long as Tomori was happy, and could keep singing her songs, then Taki would be happy too.

But, there was a chance she could return Taki’s feelings.

One of her feet slipped against the step at the last thought, causing Taki to stumble forward. She grabbed the railing to her right to steady herself. She would handle that when, if, it actually happened.

For now, she was content to be at Tomori’s side.

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Translated lyrics to Haru Hikage can be found on the wiki: https://bandori.fandom.com/wiki/Haruhikage.

#mygo #mygo fanfic #takamatsu tomori #shiina taki #takixtomori #ship name?#idk haha #flip writes #bandori mygo #takimori #or so I've been told

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magicspace114 · 1 year ago

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The tavern was loud with drunkards and questing parties that either finished their quests or merely started them. You belong to no group, having stayed in your town your whole life.

You were no bard, just some idiot with a guitar. No power stemmed from your fingers when you played and your music ability was mediocre at best. You could barely touch the strings without the voice of someone you knew telling you how boring your songs were and it made you want to puke.

You flinched as you heard the tell-tale roaring of a fight breaking out on the opposite side of the tavern, yelling and chairs being moved. Tables were flipped and people moved to get out of its way as the fight devolved into a whirlwind of movement. It was getting out of hand and anyone trying to stop it only got hurt.

You were too weak to step in between the fighters so instead, you raised your hands up to the strings of your instrument. Already you felt nausea growing but this was a good way to get attention while not being directly in danger and you hoped to just distract the fighters for a bit in hopes that more people could get out of the way or stronger fighters could break up the fight.

You swallowed the bile in your throat and gave one hard strum, your stomach lurched at it but it did its job. One fighter looked up from the fight, still strangling the other. You strummed again, harshly. This wasn't your song, you were never original enough to make one of your own, this was a war ballad you'd heard from your great uncle. If played properly, the strums portrayed a steady march but your shaky hands could barely manage a consistent strum for each step and you could not manage to sing through the pain in your stomach.

Tears streamed down your face as your fingers tingled and your stomach twisted painfully, fighting with everything to get you to stop. It was a fight to do what you did but for some reason, the fighting stopped entirely. It was only meant to serve as a temporary distraction but now both fighters were smiling at each other, putting an arm around their shoulders and singing the ballad like they were old battle buddies.

A crowd had gathered to watch. Separate questing parties were now intermingling with each other, sharing stories and songs from their own corners of the land.

By now, you were able to stop the song, rushing out of the establishment and throwing up just outside. You choked back more vomit, legs shaking as all you could do was cry in the dirt. You felt awful despite having stopped a bad fight and getting everyone inside to get along. You just curled up in the dirt, one hand touching the edge of your guitar whilst carefully avoiding the strings.

The door to the tavern opened and a pair of boots appeared in your blurry vision. All you could do was sob next to the pile of vomit as the person bent down.

"Poor kid," they mumbled to themselves, "let me get you some water, at least." They reached out to touch you but you flinched. They ignored it and took your arm, pulling you to your feet and you were so shaky that you had to rely on their weight to keep you up. Their touch was burning and you couldn't handle the pressure.

They led you back inside, taking you away from all the drunk laughs and jeers to a private booth. You sighed in relief once they were no longer touching you and you could sit down.

By now, you could see this person. He had light brown hair that poked out from his dark hood and a gas mask hanging freely around his neck. He looked young, almost as young as you and from the scars across his hands, you knew he was an adventurer.

He handed you a glass of water. "Thanks," you muttered lowly, no longer looking at him.

"That was a pretty cool trick back there," the man said, "you must be pretty powerful."

"It was just a bit of music," you mumbled.

The man frowned. "Oh, I'm not talking about the fight. Sure, a bit of magic could calm them down easy. I'm talking about how you brought everyone together. I've not seen a tavern mix so easily before over a song. That's a very powerful power you have there."

"I don't have a power," you said.

"Everyone has one," the man said, "they just haven't earned it yet." He looked at the tavern again where the jolly mood remained. Parties were exchanging ways to contact each other for support after forming bonds. "To earn something like this... you must have really pushed through something." He looked back at you who was staring down at your guitar, hands shaking violently as you lifted your water to your mouth. "Are you ok?"

You shook your head. "I want to cut the strings," you said, staring at the instrument that caused you pain.

Truthfully, you'd feel that pain whether it was a guitar or flute or anything but this guitar specifically had been passed down and every time you held it, you could feel the eyes of your ancestors staring at you in disgust.

"I loved your song," the man said.

You just grimaced, "you have bad taste."

The man chuckled. "Perhaps. But who's to say my ears are the problem?"

"I bring nothing new to the instrument. I'm not a visionary like my grandmother, I can't create beautiful lyrics like my mother. I won't perform in multiple kingdoms like my great grandfather nor march in bands like my great uncle. I come from a long line of amazing musicians," you say, glaring at the guitar, "I can't even touch it without throwing up."

"Well..." the man pondered, "was your great uncle a lyricist? Did your grandmother go to places with her vision as her father had?" You shook your head. "Your ancestors didn't copy each other. Why should you copy them?"

"Because I'm not original," you hissed, "my grasp of music is basic and everyone tells me I'm ending my line of good musicians." Your eyes filled with tears. "I'm a disgrace."

The man looked down into his own drink, eyes sad, "only someone who had to fight through so much could earn as much."

"What?"

"You hate playing. Don't you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" You quickly wiped a couple tears that fell.

"So you really had to fight against yourself to do what you just did. And for that, you were rewarded with your gift. Bringing together so many different groups is a powerful skill, you know."

"But I have to play to do it, right? Thanks, gods. That's really helpful to me when I can't even touch the strings."

"I want to thank you for doing it, even at a great cost to yourself." You looked up and saw the man grinning sheepishly, "my friend is a bit of an oaf sometimes and doesn't think before jumping into a fight. I don't want to know how badly hurt he would have gotten if you hadn't stepped in. So thank you."

You took a breath, lowering you head again. "Don't mention it."

People are not born with powers but must earn them through secret achievements. You randomly unlock one of the most powerful abilites

#writers #writing prompts #writers on tumblr #writing inspiration #writeblr

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roguestarsailor · 2 years ago

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sorry another moody spiraling i am going on --

it’s that i think part of why i am single is because i am afraid to be in love with a guy. i grew up with the idea that if a guy THINKS i like him, he’ll pull back and run away. i’ve never said “i like you” to anyone ever in my entire life and yet i dont have the best relationship with men.

so being here, i see how co-ed everything is. i see guys and girls hanging out like nothing special. i see THAT guyTM and his BZ girl friend and how cool and buddy buddyy they are. they were suppose to travel in a car for 6+ hours to LA for a weekend; just those two together. idk if they are an item but that’s so shocking for me to hear (and my heart hurts just writing this). then there’s another friend and how she talks to this other guy in our group often and they started to hang out outside our usual friend group outings. they clearly message each other often and she just casually goes over to his house to try his cooking. that shouts love no??? i even see my roommate just go to a music festival with just her guy friend and they have a good time together. another time they got stranded and had to rent a car and drove +7 hours to get back to the city; so they were together in a car ride but apparently they don’t like each other like that? what?? what’s that like??

i never gravitated toward friends to lovers stories because i think part of it is just envy. like how do these people find people like that? how do you find someone of the opposite sex and enjoy each other’s company?? they always develop feelings slowly and its endearing. whats it like??

maybe its the asexual in me but i would really truly love a friends to lover story. i cannot imagine ever being close enough to someone of the opposite sex and not feeling like i dont belong here or like oh your girlfriend/crush/some hot girl should be sitting in your passenger side. i always feel like i need to be make it VERYY obvious that we are NOT an item. its like a reflex so i dont have to see yet another broken male friendship.

i still hear my old elementary school classmate who i talked to through AIM all the time say “i would date you if you were skinnier”. i also remember another high school classmate (and elementary school classmate) tell me that he doesn’t want to sit with me on the train back home because he’s afraid that people will think we’re dating (he liked this white girl and also nobody else took our train since we were going to fucken chinatown so ???). there’s also little incidents in between that didn’t impact me as much but i know the look and the body language where men will make sure to not touch me or be TOO near me..and it sucks..even me as a person is so repulsive??? did they even like talking to me??

i also think about the song “It’s Nice to Have A Friend” and i love it with my entire heart. and i wish that were me. i wish i had a friend who would become my lover. i definitely fantasize about it. less childhood to friends to lovers but just being friends and hanging out often and then BOOM just like lightninng it hits both of us and time was on our side and we just aligned and we’re in ~ love ~. like its just organic and its just so smooth..... god i wish i wish!!!

maybe i carried those two boy’s comments for too long and i need to unlearn that. learn that i’m much much more older and men are matured and are out here. maybe i’ll find one who will love me and i’ll feel less afraid to speak my truth. i hope one day i can be so open with my feelings and he would LOVE it and i can just feel that freedom that comes with not hiding, feeling like i belong, affectionate touches and genuinely connection.

#amandathoughts

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dragon-kazansky · 4 years ago

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Smile for me | Helmut Zemo

Zemo couldn't stop looking at you. Earlier on Bucky had said something that had you and Sam in stiches, and since then he hadn't been able to stop looking at you. The smile that had been on your face was so pure and full of joy. Your laughter rang like music to his ears. He could still hear it now.

You hadn't laughed or smiled since. You had been all serious game since that moment, and Zemo just couldn't let it go.

How long had it been since he was able to make someone laugh or smile like that? Would he even be able to get you to smile, despite how you perceived him?

He would love to find out.

You were sitting on your own at the moment. Sam had excused himself with his laptop to try and find more information on where the Flag Smashers might be. Bucky had gone for a walk, but you weren't convinced that was all it was.

Zemo was the only other person in the room.

You had a book open in your lap, your thumb brushing along the edge of the page slowly as you absorbed the words. This was the most relaxed you had been since you agreed to come along with Sam and Bucky.

Helmut poured some tea for two and approached you. He put the tray down on the table and took a seat next to you.

"You made me tea?"

You had looked up from the pages of your book to the cup in front of you.

"Yes, is that alright?" Zemo asked, amused by the confusion etched on your face.

"Yes, thank you..."

Zemo watched as you closed the book and put it to one side. You reached out and took the cup he had made for you, letting the tea warm up your hands. You sat back and brought it to your lips.

"It's good."

Zemo smiles. You had yet to smile at him, but he would keep trying. Grabbing his own cup, he made himself comfortable next to you. You seemed content enough to sit next to him.

Once your cup was empty, you put it back down and picked up the book again. Despite the lack of a bookmark, you managed to find where you had left off. Zemo let his gaze rest on you as you lost yourself back within the pages.

You had managed to make him smile just by being you.

You only put the book down again after reaching the end of the chapter. This time around you turn so you're facing him. Zemo hadn't moved since he sat down and you felt bad for ignoring him. That was something you expected to feel considering who he is.

"It's a shame we didn't come to Riga under different circumstances." You sigh.

"Oh? What circumstances would you rather be here under?" Zemo's heart leaped at the fact you were even giving him the time of day. He wouldn't confess that though.

"Well, we need to lay low, which means we can't tour the town."

"You want to go outside?"

"I'd like to see more, not that your safe house isn't lovely, it is."

Zemo grinned. His eyes seemed to light up. "Is that so?"

You nodded your head gently, looking into those deep dark brown eyes of his. Why did his warm gaze make you feel so safe? That's the exact opposite of how you should be feeling either him.

"There is a square just further up the road. I could take you that far." He gave a little shrug.

He saw the way you perked up, sitting more upright, your eyes glistening with interest. He's got you.

"Do you want to go?"

You turn your head in the direction of where Sam had gone.

"I will tell him we are going out, I won't keep you long. If I don't have you back in 15-20 minutes, he can do whatever he wants with me." Zemo raises his hands a bit to show he was serious.

"I won't let him do anything to you, but I would very much like to go out."

Zemo smiles as he gets up and goes to seek out Sam. You wait eagerly. When he returns, Sam in tow, he grabs his coat and slides it on. Sam comes over to you, looking like a big brother about to give a lecture.

"If he tries anything, call me. Bucky is still out, so you let me know. I don't trust him, but I know I trust you. If Zemo so much as makes you think he's up to something, call." Sam glares at Zemo.

You get up from your seat and nod, turning to Zemo and gesturing for him to lead the way.

When you step outside, you stand and let the sun hit you, feeling its warmth. The slight breeze that cuts through the street felt fresh against your skin.

Zemo comes up behind you, placing a hand on your back as he gazes at you.

"Shall we?"

You nod and let him walk with you up the street. There are very few about and it's nice. These buildings around you looked old, yet stunning. You could get used to walking these streets. Maybe you should retire from the whole saving the world thing and live in the backstreet of Europe.

You could dream.

The square opens up just ahead. Still few people were wandering about. Zemo led you to the centre and let you look around. You spun around slowly, taking in the few stalls that were set up, the buildings towering over you, the children playing in one corner. It was so peaceful.

"Do you like what you see?" Zemo asked.

You stop and look at him. You nod. Then, thought it's slight and barely there, you smile.

Zemo swears his heart stops for a moment.

"I do. Thank you."

Helmut takes a step closer to you, his hands down by his side. Those deep dark eyes of his are focused on you.

"That's the first time you have smiled because of something I did." He speaks quietly, as if this was a secret only for your ears.

"Oh? I think this is the most we have spoken to each other. I've kind of been ignoring you, haven't I?"

"Perhaps, but I'm not offended," he chuckles. "I'm honoured you have shared with me something so beautiful."

You stare at him.

"Are you blushing?" He laughs, the sound makes your heart skip a beat.

"No."

He raises a hand, a gloved finger lightly brushes your cheek. It was so soft and quick, you're not entirely sure you felt it, but it happened. You step back just a little, turning your head to the side slightly, biting back a bigger smile.

"Is that another smile I see?"

"Nope." You shake your head a little vigorously.

"You wound me."

You glance up to see he has a hand over his heart as he leans back, sort of as if he had been shot with an arrow.

With that cheeky grin on his face, and the way he's messing about and teasing you, you can't stop the laughter from spilling out. It's the exact sound he had hoped to hear again.

You place your hands on his shoulders and push him lightly, trying to get him to stop messing around, but he just grabs your hands gently and brings them to his chest, pulling you closer to him.

"I made you laugh! Such an achievement." He grins some more.

"Is that what you wanted?" You ask, happy enough to stand this close with him. His gloved hands were warm on yours.

"Yes."

You don't even bother trying to hide the next smile. This man has made you feel so comfortable in his presence, all while standing in unfamiliar territory.

"I should probably get you back now, but if you ever find yourself here in Riga again, I shall give you a list of places to go and things to see."

He goes to remove his hands from yours, but you are quickly to hold onto one of them with both of yours as you look him in the eye. You shake your head, causing him to furrow his brow at you.

"What's the point if I don't have my tour guide to show me everything?"

"Your tour guide?"

"Well, aren't you?" You tilt your head to the side. Your melting his heart with every little thing you do.

"I suppose I am, but I doubt we'll ever be back here together. I am a criminal, remember?"

"Yeah I remember. Still, I refuse to come back if my favourite tour guide isn't going to be with me." You squeeze his hand.

"I'm your favourite?"

"Well, technically, you're my only tour guide." You give him your best cheeky grin.

"I see." He steps a little closer. "Do I get anything for showing you the square today?"

"Oh, you want payment?" You roll your eyes.

"Perhaps just a little something?"

You smile softly as you brush your nose with his. The fact you're even considering it makes you think you've gone mad, but there's something irresistible about this man in front of you.

Before you even get the chance to kiss him, a cold metal hand grabs Zemo by the shoulder and pulls him back. You step back and look at Bucky, who is glaring at the man you were so close to kissing.

"What are you two doing?"

"Zemo was giving me a tour. Sam knows we're here. I wanted to see Riga." You look down, embarrassed.

Bucky let's go of Zemo and places an arm around you, guiding you back toward the safe house. Zemo straightened his clothes before following after you, annoyed that a perfect moment was disturbed.

When you get back, Bucky gives Zemo a warning before he goes off to brood in the next room. Sam follows after him to find out what happened.

Zemo goes to pour himself a drink, but you slide up beside him and take his hand back in yours.

"I'd like to pay now."

Zemo chuckles softly. "I was only teasing you."

"I know, but still."

Zemo sits there as you lean in place a delicate kiss to his cheek. You pull away and drop his hand.

"If you want anything more, you have to take me on a proper tour."

Zemo smiles softly.

"Is that a promise?" He asks, whispering to you.

"Yes."

"Then I shall have to do everything in my power to make sure I give you that tour."

You give him the brightest smile you can manage and step away before the boys come back.

Zemo gives a subtle wink.

Now there is NO WAY he is going back to prison. Not unless he disappoints someone so special.

#tfatws #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #zemo #marvel

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samaraannhan20 · 2 years ago

Text

Pete Davidson Imagine: Nonsense

https://youtu.be/ECVA6FvhdEE

Inspired by Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter

A.n: I’m sorry for any inaccuracies, I know nothing about music production😅

“Okay, let’s go from the pre-chorus and chorus, then we’ll do the verses,” your producer says over the speaker as you walk back into the sound booth.

“Sounds good,” you say into the microphone as you slip your headphones on. You hear the music begin, and start singing the first chorus

“But I can’t help myself, When you get close to me, Baby my tongue goes numb, sounds like bleh, blah, blee. I don’t want no one else. Baby I’m in too deep. Here’s a little song I wrote, It’s about you and me. I’ll be honest, Lookin’ at you got me thinkin’ nonsense. Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in, And when you got your arms around me, Ooh it feels so good i had to jump the octave. I think I got an ex but I forgot him, And I can’t find my chill, I must have lost it. I don’t even know I’m talking nonsense,” you finish, and grab your water as your producer starts talking.

“That sounded good, let’s do the first verse when you’re done getting a drink. After we get each of the parts recorded separately, we can do a run through of the entire thing, does that sound good?” he asks you, and you nod your head, then give the okay to start the music.

“Think I only want one number in my phone,” you sing, closing your eyes to get more into the music, thinking of your boyfriend, Pete Davidson. “I might change your contact to don’t leave me alone. You said you like my eyes and you like to make ‘em roll. Treat me like a queen, now you got me feelin’ thrown,” you finish the first verse, and open your eyes. “How was that?” you ask your producer who is sitting on the other side of the glass.

“It was great!” he responds, looking very happy. “Let’s do the second verse, and then we can go into the chorus, then the bridge. Sound good?”

“Yeah, just let me grab a drink really quick,” you respond, turning around to find your water bottle. As you take a sip you hear the people in the booth start saying hi to someone who just walked in. You turn around and look out the window and see Pete standing there. You quickly close up your water bottle and yank open the door that separates the two rooms. “Pete!” you exclaim, rushing over to him and jumping into his arms, which he was holding out for you. “What are you doing here? I thought you had an SNL rehearsal?”

“I did, but it ended early, and I knew you would still be here, so I thought I would come hang out while you recorded. Oh, and,” he says nodding his head behind him, “I brought Colson.”

“Hi Colson,” you say, moving your head so that you can see him standing behind Pete. he waves back at you, and Pete lets you down. “Well, I’m going to go back in there,” you say, suddenly shy, because you realized the song you are currently recording is about Pete, and he brought Colson with him, who is famous for his music career. Fantastic, this isn’t nerve wracking at all you think to yourself as you get situated again in the booth. You sit for a minute and get situated again, before giving the okay to your team to start the music. As the music starts you can feel the nerves start to wash away as you close your eyes and get back into the music.

“I’m talking, I’m talking. I’m talking all around the clock. I’m talking hope nobody knocks. I’m talking opposite of soft. I’m talking wild, wild thoughts. You gotta keep up with me. I got some young energy. I caught the L-O-V-E. How do you do this to me?” you finish and slowly the music stops.

Looking through the window you can see Pete and Colson sitting on the couch and smiling at each other. You get off the stool you were sitting on, and walk through the door into the rest of the studio. “What do you guys think?” you ask, going to sit next to Pete for a second.

“I think it sounds amazing, Y/N,” Colson says, holding his hand out for a high five, which you give him.

“I agree baby,” Pete says, leaning over and placing a kiss on your neck.

“Thank you guys,” you say with a laugh, and then stand up. “We’re gonna go through the whole thing now, so you’ll get to hear the whole thing together,” you say, walking to the door. You go back in the sound booth and put your headphones on, then think of something. “Hey,” you say to your producer, and he looks up. “After I finish, keep the extra music going, I’m going to do an outro,” you tell him, and he nods his head. The music starts, and you get into it. This time the music has your backgrounders in it, and it sounds even more put together.

“Think I only want one number in my phone, I might change your contact to don’t leave me alone. You said you like my eyes and you like to make ‘em roll. Treat me like a queen, now you got me feelin’ thrown.

“But I can’t help myself, When you get close to me, Baby my tongue goes numb, sounds like bleh, blah, blee. I don’t want no one else. Baby I’m in too deep. Here’s a little song I wrote, It’s about you and me. I’ll be honest, Lookin’ at you got me thinkin’ nonsense. Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in, And when you got your arms around me, Ooh it feels so good i had to jump the octave. I think I got an ex but I forgot him, And I can’t find my chill, I must have lost it. I don’t even know I’m talking nonsense. I’m talking, I’m talking. Blah, blah, blah, blah, Uh-uh-uh-uh. Ahh. I don’t even know anymore. Ohh,” you finish the song, then start making things up as the music keeps playing, keeping with the rhythm of the song.

“This song catchier than chicken pox is,” you say, the smile on your face growing. “I bet your house is where my other sock is,” you say, seeing Pete and Colson laughing through the window. “Woke up this morning thought I’d write a pop hit. How quickly can you take your clothes off pop quiz?” you say, full on laughing at this point. “That one’s not gonna make it,” you laugh looking at your producer. “Most of these aren’t going to make it,” you say, slipping the headphones off your head as the song ends. You quickly walk back through the doors, and sit next to Pete on the couch. He wraps his arms around you, and lifts you to be sitting on your lap.

“Give us a minute Y/N, and we’ll have it ready to listen to,” your producer says.

“Awesome, and then we’re done recording! Just have to choose an order” you reply with a slight chuckle. You slide off of Pete’s lap and stand up and hold out a hand. “Hey, Y/P/N, we’ll be right back. I’m going to go see what snacks are in the break room,” you say, and pull Pete out of the room. You walk down the hall side by side, with you keeping a hold of his hand to make sure that he follows you into the right room. “So, what did you think?” you ask him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Be honest,” you blurt right as he opens his mouth to respond.

“Honestly?” he asks, and you nod eagerly. “Honestly, I’m jealous of whoever that song is about,” he says, smirking down at you. You let go of his hand as you walk into the break room, skipping over to the fridge.

“What do you mean?” you ask him coyly as you grab a water bottle out of the fridge.

“Well, I could tell that you really care about whoever it was you were singing about,” he says as you hand him a soda.

“You dummy,” you say, slapping his arm gently. “I wrote the song about you. You’re the person who has me thinking nonsense.”

“Oh. OH,” he says, when he realizes.

“Yeah,” you say, looking down. Although you and Pete had been dating for six months, you had yet to say the three words to each other.

“Hey,” he says, using his hand to lift your chin up. “I wanted it to be in a more romantic setting when I told you, rather than the break room of your recording studio, but, well, I love you,” he says, still holding your chin in his hand.

“I love you, Pete. That song was kind of my love letter to you, that’s why I got kinda shy when you showed up and I had to record it in front of you,” you say, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He leans down to kiss you, fiercely. You wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. Before you know it Colson walks in to find you sitting on the counter in the break room with your legs wrapped around Pete, deep in a makeout session.

“Um, ahem,” Colson says, laughing, as you two suddenly break apart and you bury your face in Pete’s chest as he turns to look at Colson.

“What man?” Pete asks him.

“They finished the song. They’re ready for her to hear it,” he says, still laughing. Once you realize what he said, you push Pete away, jump down, grab his hand, and pull him all the way back to the studio.

After you listen to the song, you and your producers decide to call it a day, and you, Pete, and Colson head out to celebrate the fact that you just finished your album.

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson fanfiction #pete davidson x reader

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faeriwon · 3 years ago

Text

DIMPLE BOY - no way

wc ; 1k

“oh y/n!“ san jumped up when he saw you and ryujin walking into the kitchen. “i’m happy you came.” the raven haired boy eyes you up and down, as if he was taking in a view. it made you feel a bit self conscious of the shorter dress you were wearing, making you pull it down just slightly.

chaeryoung was the one to spot the dress and immediately forced you to try it on. you weren’t sure about buying it but wearing it made you feel beautiful. so after a quick thought, you found yourself at the register, paying for the white dress. you wanted to look extra pretty for dimple boy.

“i couldn’t just not show up, you always throw the best parties.” you giggled at the boy, getting a wink in return. ryujin loudly coughed, trying to clear the odd air. “i’m gonna go get myself a drink, you want anything?” she poked you in your side, expecting an answer. “no im okay.” you quickly returned before letting san take up your attention again, ryujin quietly walking further into the kitchen.

he lead you to the living room which was overly full with people had all the furniture pushed against the walls. you looked around at the people dancing on the middle of the room, the people sitting on the couches and the people making out in the corners. you felt a bit out of place, parties truly weren’t your ideal scene.

“want to dance with me.” san asked after he had turned around to face you. you returned a hesitant nod. “don’t worry, it’ll be fun!” he exclaimed before grasping you by the wrist and dragging you into the middle of the room. the boy looked smug, too smug. you still weren’t sure about who dimple boy was but you were almost sure it wasn’t san. it just couldn’t be him. but you still let him lead you to the dance floor, it was a party after all.

a few drinks and a few hours later, the party had mostly cleared out. the music was turned down and the livingroom was littered with solo cups and empty beer bottles. you were situated on the coach, with sunoo and chaeryoung making out besides you. riki was resting his head on jungwons lap across the room and san and a few of his friends went outside for a smoke. yuna and ryujin were in the bathroom, fixing up their hair and makeup.

you were busy, scrolling through your phone and feeling slightly disappointed at dimple boy for no showing again, when san walked back into the living room.

“everyone in a circle on the ground, were playing seven minutes in heaven.” san declared, taking a random empty beer bottle and laying it down in the middle if the room. all of you in the living room were quick to oblige, sitting in a neat circle, chaeryoung and san sitting next to you. “ryujin and yuna are still in the bathroom, so just wait a sec before beginning.” you whispered to san.

jungwon furrowed his eyebrows from the opposite side of the circle. he had been trying the entire night to get you alone with him. but it felt nearly impossible, san had been taking up all your time at the party. leaving your dearest dimple boy frustrated. this game of seven minutes in heaven, how stupid it may sound, felt like his last option at getting you alone with him.

yuna and ryujin returned not long after, sitting down in the gap jungwon had left between him and yeosang. “okay so im spinning the bottle twice, the people it lands on go to the balcony for seven minutes to do whatever. ok?” san briefly explained getting conformation in return.

he nodded and spun the bottle, jungwon looked at the bottle with wide eyes, it was now or never. the bottle came to a stop with its head facing you. you looked up from the bottle with a little smile on your face. san spun it again, this time the bottle head pointing towards jungwon.

the boy was ecstatic, this was the moment where he would reveal himself. he was actually going to do it.

you stood up and made your way to the balcony, jungwon following closely behind you. some people in the circle whistling at you guys.

once on the balcony, you turned to jungwon. “so, what do you want to do before someone picks us up?” you question, fiddling with your hands. jungwon was now leaning on the railing of the balcony, looking at the lit up city in front of him. “i wanted to tell you something.” he looked at you with a smile, revealing his dimples.

you joined the boy at the railing looking back at him, “go ahead.” you sighed out.

“i-uh, i think it’s obvious that i’ve liked you for a while.” jungwon stammered. “but i don’t think it’s clear how much i actually like you.” the boy nervously bit his lip, slightly scared of your reaction to what was coming next. “i’m dimple boy.”

your eyes widened and you inhaled a deep breath. jungwon couldn’t even bring himself to look at you right now, he felt like his knees would give in. “could you repeat that?” you stuttered out. “i’m dimple boy.” he repeated, this time louder than the last time.

your looked at him, with wide eyes and you mouth slightly opened. “no way.”

jungwon finally looked back at you and nodded. jungwon nervously looking at you was the last sight you saw before blackness engulfed your eyesight and you fell down.

jungwon was quick to catch your limp form, worry washing over him. “y/n? y/n! wake up!” he shook your body. he hurriedly laid you down on the balcony before running back into the livingroom.

once he entered he screamed, “she fainted, she fucking fainted!”

previous | masterlist | next

synopsis ; you didn’t really mind when you started receiving cute twitter dm’s from a private account named dimple boy. but now that your secret admirer has admitted to attending the same school, you are committed to finding out who it is.

tags ; to be added to the taglist, you can fill in the google forms linked in the masterlist. names in bold could not be tagged

dimple!boy.tags ; [ @enhacolor @beibybtch @lhsng @blaaiissee @naxoxomi @markleepooh @hoonieswrld @yutaeminnie @chirokookie @higamersitsbarney @jungwonerz @meowoni @alyselenai @yvesismywife @lumixen @lunaflvms @tenten-67 @staysstrays @ihrtwon @heatrache @p-rincess-minki @nikifartt @hobistigma @rrvvby @andromedawillburryyou @p-ocki @ohmy-fandoms @stoatwashere @gyuszn @mavlogist @ily-cuz-i @luviehyuk ]

perm.tags ; [ @maiwon @acciomylove-blog @hiqhkey @vantxx95 ]

#hooniesdreams💗#dimpleboy #enhypen #yang jungwon #enhypen smau #jungwon smau #yang jungwon fanfic #yang jungwon x reader #jungwon x you #jungwon scenarios #jungwon fluff #jungwon fanfic #jungwon social media au #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen social media au #enhypen fanfiction

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smolla-than-a-bug · 3 years ago

Text

shinichiro as your boyfriend

sano shinichiro x reader

navi | tokrev m.list

content — gn!reader, sfw, mentions alcohol and smoking/vaping, hands + pics, includes a short filo au bonus at the end

notes — *brainrots* IM GOING CRAZY OVER THR LAST EPISODE OH MY GOD JENDKKEMDMF anyway so ill try updating m:i by this wednesday!! i should really balance my school work better LMAO

such a clingy bf under no circumstances will he let go of u ever

hes like omg finally a s/o and he loves u sososo much that he physically needs to be close to u all the time

will constantly have a hand or a limb attached to u in some way or another

he likes to have u sit in his lap regardless of what ur doing and let u do ur thing as long as he gets to squeeze u tight in his arms and nuzzle into ur neck

he just hides in ur neck and… inhales… ur scent

he cannot get enough of u istg

has 100% fallen asleep like that before and will do it again

then when he wakes up hes the cutest omg

he would be all fuzzy and fluffy inside and just overall happy to be there and wake up w u in his arms

drives manual cars idk i jus strongly feel like he does

he barely drives cars tho,, he only does on occasion cos he still prefers his bike over anything else

music taste 100% consists of classic rock

is a sucker for 80s-90s love songs that u always hear on the radio like when i met you by apo hiking society and more than words by extreme

randomly sings them, especially if its playing on the radio he has in his garage

will definitely pull u away from work to dance even if he is the worst dancer on the planet

dancing is fun and he gets to see u having fun so its entirely worth it

cried watching the notebook but denies it with his whole chest if the topic comes up

would build a house for u if u asked him

despite his reputation in the gang world, between his friends and siblings he’s the one who everyone bullies

will whine and fake cry about it to u and use it as an excuse to cuddle bc he “needs the comfort”

if ur there when hes getting roasted he will hide behind u, use u as a shield, and try getting u on his side

ur his s/o so u have to, right?

but if u start making fun of him too, he will get extra whiny and cling onto u bc “my s/o is so mean to me”

then he will demand extra snuggles for u to make it up to him

but like he gets super defensive when getting teased. he has an answer to everything thrown at him bc he is #witty

but when its u, no doubt his answers will be very flirty and sometimes even suggestive

he doesn’t hesitate teasing u tho he’s playful like that

he doesn’t mind other people making fun of u as long as it’s clearly a joke but if he senses some weight in that ‘joke’, then it isn’t a joke anymore and he will not hesitate to square up

is so protective of u

not protective like u cant do this u cant wear that, but he’s protective in the sense that he will accompany u if u feel unsafe and will fight anyone who tries to violate u

has gotten beat up before bc someone made a comment about u behind ur back and he didn’t like what he heard

makes faces at children in public to try to make them laugh but it rarely ever turns out the way he wants it to

a lightweight when it comes to alcohol

caring for drunk shinichiro is such an experience omg

he would be tripping over his feet, mumbling about how he has the best s/o in the world and how he loves u so much

he tries not to but when he smokes in the presence of other ppl (especially u, whether or not u smoke), he always exhales the smoke in the opposite direction

if u smoke, he likes winding down with u thru a little smoke sesh at the end of the day and he will always make sure to ask u how ur day went n give u a due response. it makes it more comforting, not smoking by himself

if u vape, he honestly loves the smell of ur juice and when u try new flavors, he likes to guess what flavor it is

i’d like to say he smells like freshly washed sheets but ik he be greasy w sweat n motor oil LMFAO

and hes so used to it that he never really wipes the grease off unless needed, like if he has a customer walk in or if a distant relative visits

but he prefers when u come over with a towel to clean him up yourself, even if u scold him for it <3

his nails are always dirty i said what i said

he tends to pick at the dirt under his nails a lot but it just never gets clean clean and hes used to it

but of course when u entered his life, it became a usual thing to just have him sit down while u clean his nails for him. properly.

and while he sits there, he watches the entire process and the focus on ur face just so mesmerized no matter how often u do it

he has that dumb smile while watching u work on his nails and in his head he’s all like “my s/o is the most perfect and caring and loving and amazing…” the list goes on

in short, he loves getting babied by you

but!!!!!! he loves taking care of u just as much <3

u are definitely a role model/parental figure to his siblings too (and all the other kids by extension) i feel like that goes without saying

everyone looks up to u and u are definitely the one to contact for advice or when they have personal concerns bc they know u wont judge and u will give substantial help <3

they all defo have family problems too like dude no way are they allowed to be running around in gangs if they didnt

so like u always make it known that if anyone needs a place to stay, a meal to eat, help with school, etcetc then they can approach u <3

bc they are all so young and deserve to have a childhood they can look back on and smile at <3

shinichiro falls more and more in love with u whenever shit like that happens too like,,,

he gets all soft n fantasizes about having a family with u if u are ever up for it

he personally would rather adopt but if u want ur own biological children then hes all up for that too !!!!

he would be the best dad ohmyfodfdmme

but if u dont want kids, he genuinely doesnt mind as long as he has u

listen i know he has the perfect hands tho like hear me out

not too veiny, not too slender but oooo i know his fingers r long n his knuckles r big

disclaimer idk who owns the hands in the photos above i got them from pinterest n in my mind, they r shinichiros hands <3

imagine him in rings n chain bracelets omg

he loves giving u massages especially when ur stressed imagine getting massaged by these hands oh my god

ok enough abt his hands

he likes to bring up ur hands to his lips n put little kisses on it

he thinks hes being romantic and he is absolutely correct

i would like to see this man in a long sleeved dress shirt but with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows

we know he doesn’t have much muscle he’s lowkey a twig but like that jus means the button down would be kinda loose on him rather than form fitting and he would look so cozy n cuddly omf soft boy

he is not embarrassed at all about his middle school self’s hairstyle

he would never go back to doing it every day again bc hes too lazy but to this day he still thinks he looked so cool

hes so annoying HAHAHAHA (affectionate)

he likes to bug u for attention out of the blue when he feels like it or just… when hes bored

and he tends to distract u from work/school work habitually

he is either (1) so chill he reacts to everything like its a normal occurrence or (2) super easy to fluster

i know some people get weirded out by feet but if u send him a video of u wriggling ur toes to show off the pedicure u just got, he wouldn’t even blink before replying how the design u got done is so cute

or if u remember the whole “would u love me if i was a worm” trend, he wouldnt even think twice before saying something like “yes. we can be worms together <3”

but if u compliment him out of the blue super casually, he turns red so fast and forgets every word ever invented

it’s not the same if u indulge him tho. like if he asks/prompts u to compliment him and u give in to it, he gets all smug

but if u compliment him unprompted, it catches him sooo off guard

even tho he literally compliments u every chance he gets, its a very different story when the tables are turned

overall, 11/10 boyfriend id propose to him on the spot

filo au bonus

has the most jeje typings to ever typings

pero i feel like ginagawa lmg nya yon to give u a headache HAHAHAHA

but he has jeje humor n di nyo alam kung ironic ba o nde

taga “sanaol” pag may dumaang magjowa na may bitbit na milktea

dates sa bgc except hes never been there kaya kung saan saan na kau nakakarating

“tara tags?” aka spontaneous dates to tagaytay para lang maka starbucks tas paminsan minsan kasabay din nya mga kapatid nya

si mikey ang pinakamadalas na kasama nyo kc nililibre nyo sha

speaking of his siblings,, i know si kuya shinichiro ung taga hatid sundo sa kanila for school or pag may gala

pero pag busy sha at di nya talaga kaya, ikaw ung tinatawagan

pero mas prefer ka as driver nila mikey emma at izana <3 HAHAHAH mapanlait cla kay kuya ihh

laging ikaw ung niyayaya ni emma mag mall tho (panira daw kuya nya)

mahilig toh maghugot pagkatapos owshii sabay kagat labi but ironically

pag may rambulan o bardagulan kumbaga sya ung tagasigaw ng “TAMA!” sa gilid

kamikazee, silent sanctuary, the itchyworms, orange & lemons, etcetc basta lam mo na

idk why pero feeling ko favorite chips nya is piattos na cheese or rollercoaster

and then he likes to show off ung paghagis salo ng chips sa bibig

mahilig sa isaw na baboy ung mukhang ganto 🪱

plus points kela papa at kela tito kase marunong mag ayos ng motor usapang vroomvroom cla tuwing reunion o party

pasipsip sa mama/titas/lolas mo langya

owemji ok pag nagkakaroon ng family roadtrip sa inyo laging invited si shinichiro

if u have siblings or younger cousins,, grabe magalang sha sa mga bata like si shinichiro talaga ung favorite nila

but like mahilig din kayo mag roadtrip na kayo lang like sa beach ganon

u gotta keep it a secret tho kung gusto nyo kaung dalawa lng kc pag nalaman nila mikey izana at emma,, nagpapasama sila lahat

pati na rin ung mga tropa ni mikey tas si kaku bc of izana tas si hina bc of emma

anoyan fieldtrip chz

pero masaya naman enjoy naman <3

i feel magaling sha mag patintero cos look at em long ass limbs

lam nyo ung dlsu freedom wall post this one:

if ur a hardcore kpop stan, ganto ^ ung pakiramdam ni shinichiro

has hatdog humor

tokyo revengers taglist — @victoirey

#shinichiro headcanons #shinichiro sano fluff #sano shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro fluff #shinichiro hcs #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers hcs #sano shinichiro #shinichiro #shinichiro sano

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strangelysamantha · 3 years ago

Text

crumbled cookies ☆

jj maybank x plus!reader (fem!reader)

warnings: abuse/hitting, hate speech, fat shaming, bullying, insecurities, swearing, fighting, jj’s dad, luke (yikes!) mad jj, mention of pills.

words: 3,365.

summary: you decide it would be a good surprise to stop by jjs house quickly to drop off some of your homemade cookies, since you believe he isn’t feeling the best. then, unexpectedly jj's dad comes home with an unwelcoming embrace, which ruins the surprise.

request? nope, but requests are open :)

a/n: i randomly thought about this, i obviously don’t believe that us plus size baddies should ever be insecure, but i thought it would be a nice little angst imagine with fluff at the end! if you could, please comment and like if you enjoyed it, thank you! after i write a few requests i will proofread my stories :)

my masterlist

——————————————————————————

jj hadn’t answered any of your texts, usually this would worry you, but you understood that sometimes he just needed some space to be alone. you surprisingly were used to this because he always disappeared, and if he genuinely needed you, he knew where to find you. it also wasn’t bothering you because he had only been MIA for a few hours.

you, assuming that jj was just overwhelmed, decided to stay home and bake homemade cookies. jj always complimented your cookies, he loved taste testing them, and more importantly, he loved how you put so much effort into making them perfect, even if you were only making the cookies for him. jj wouldn’t admit it, but he definitely didn’t see you as just a friend. he didn’t know how he viewed you. he was too confused for his own good with his emotions. all he did know was that he depended on you, and that he never wanted to lose you. it would ruin him, especially if he had done something to intentionally lose and hurt you.

you preheated the oven, excited to use a new cookie flavor for jj. you danced lightly to the music playing in the background of your kitchen, softly humming along as you gathered the dry ingredients, mixing them together. it was a fun little game you guys played, where he’d try and guess what extra ingredients you added that affected the cookie's flavor. he almost always got it wrong, but he was so cute sitting there always trying to guess it right, when he didn’t even know that much about cooking anyway.

unbeknownst to you, you were completely unaware of his feelings, despite the same feelings bubbling in your heart too. jj was your best buddy, and obviously you guys had flirtatious banter but it was nothing too serious. it didn’t help that every girl jj had a one night stand with, was the complete opposite of you. how could he like you, when every girl he fucks was not only skinny, but also rich, and mysterious?

pope wasn’t on your side either. he would always express how nauseated he felt when jj would jokingly flirt with you, and openly play with your feelings. he was quite vocal in scolding you when you would tell him that jj blew you off, or jj had pissed you off. deep down you did agree with pope, he wasn’t wrong.

a beep was heard from the oven as it was fully preheated. you had fully completed the cookie dough, now adding the most important ingredients. you decided to be nicer, and chose an easier flavor for jj to guess. you did this just in case something was seriously wrong he could at least be lifted up for guessing it right. m&ms and hershey’s kisses would be mixed together, creating a chocolate m&m hershey cookie, with added caramel on top. you quickly evenly separate the dough, before placing it in the oven waiting for it to rise.

the timer in the kitchen went off as you pulled the cookies out of the oven, careful to not burn yourself. you stick a knife into the cookie to ensure it was fully cooked before smiling contently to yourself. you let them cool off as you got dressed and prepared to go to jjs house.

you added caramel before sliding four cookies into a ziplock baggie. the cute baggy had a drawn on heart and a nice message for him. you didn’t expect to stay long, and you honestly didn’t even know if he would be home.

when you arrived to jjs house it looked vacant and abandoned. the nerves finally catching up to you as you realize he hasn’t talked to you all day. you knock on the front door, waiting for a response but you are left standing there waiting. you frown before hesitatingly walking down the steps. you look up when you hear a car approach, and a glimmer of hope flashes your mind as you thought it was jj, but instead it was his dad.

your heart was beating fast, and you didn’t know what to do. you waited to see if luke would talk but he just looked at you confused, and obviously annoyed. you shook your head quickly, “i’m so sorry, i was just going to drop these off for jj, but he’s not here so i’ll be on my way.” you smile softly, and start to walk away but his strong arms grab yours. you’re startled since his reaching for your elbow was quite unexpected.

“well you are already here. might as well get it over with.” his voice was unrecognizable as his emotions weren’t clear. you nod shyly. “no really i don’t want to inconvenience you, i can come at another time.” he shakes his head before walking to his door, opening it as the door loosely opens entirely, hitting against the wall to its side. you walk behind him being extra cautious in case he tries to grab you again.

you walk straight to the kitchen to set the bag of cookies on the counter, which was no use since right when you placed the bag, luke had scooped it into his hand reading the note. “oh, so you are the one dating my son?” your face twists in confusion. “no, no. jj and i are just friends.” you laugh awkwardly, swaying from feet to feet. the floors creak beneath you causing you to stop shaking back and forth. “okay good.” his eyes look up and down your figure as his mouth forms into a line. “i wouldn’t want him dating someone like… you.” his words hurt, but you didn’t want to break down in front of him.

you feel uncomfortable under his intense stare so you hurried to put an end to the conversation. “uhm. okay, welll thank you for letting me drop them off, i appreciate it mr. maybank.” you nod softly before he states, “no.” you turn over to him, “no?” you repeat as more of a question. your patience wears thin as you notice the cookies are still in his hand, and he is carefully undoing the ziplock that concealed the cookies.

he pulled a cookie out, before admiring it closely. “chocolate chip m&m caramel cookie. very yummy, very good choice.” you avoid eye contact, trying to focus on anything else displayed in the room. “and it’s still warm.” he stares at you as he takes a bite of the cookie, its crumbs slowly falling from where he sunk his teeth in. “it’s quite good.” you smile softly, “thank you… but-.” he cuts you off completely. “of course you, of all people, would be bringing him cookies. i’m not surprised, i can see you are trying to fatten my son.” his words stung you because this wasn’t what you were expecting. his father seemed intoxicated, and before you could leave it seemed like he still had stuff to say to you.

“yes the cookies are good, but they don’t excuse you for lying to my face. you are just like my ex wife… lying, scheming, going behind my back, but still creating delicious snacks.” you stumble back a little, as shock sets over you. “how did i lie?” you ask, quite confused as you hadn’t even talked to him that much. “i know you’re dating jj! i see his hickies i see that when he leaves this house it’s always to meet with your fat ass.” his words hold no meaning, he was just a lousy drunk taking his anger out on the closest thing to him. you stayed silent, when he suddenly shook his head before grabbing the rest of the cookies and throwing them on the floor, jumping on the bag, completely squishing them.

the once yummy cookies, now downgraded into a small pitiful pile that was brutally smeared against the kitchen's tile. your heart speeds up as his eyes are focused on yours, as if trying to read your emotions. “i’m sorry, but i’m not sure what i did to deserve you ruining my cookies?” your tone comes out sassier than intended which definitely didn’t help your case.

“pick it up.” he threw paper towels towards you, as he waited patiently for you to clean up his mess. you silently obeyed scooping your mutated bakery treat up. you got most of it cleaned, but you ran out of napkins. you bite your lip trying to think of a quick solution to finish picking it up so you could possibly leave, but it’s too late because he’s already grabbing your arm forcing you up. tears stream down your face, while you contemplate your choices.

before you could even register what had just happened, his hand had collided with your cheek, as he screams hurtful comments. “you are good for nothing. i honestly hope that jj didn’t choose you, because if he did, that would make him an embarrassment to this family.” he pushes you to the floor, and you quickly try to stand up so you can leave. you hurry to the door, but he catches you before you could get in your car and drive away.

“you can't tell anyone about this. i swear if you tell anyone...” his tone is laced with venom and your face scrunches up in confusion. “dont act stupid! god this is why people treat you the way they do.” you look at him one last time before he sends a fast fist to your face, that hits the side of your nose, and your eye. your face begins to pulse as the blood rushes to the quick forming bruise. you couldn't think straight as everything had happened so fast. all you wanted to do was drop off cookies, but somehow you were now being punished just because you resembled this man's wife. your breath is shaky as your tears are starting to slow down, but they are still evident on your cheeks.

jj’s dad stumbled backwards as if he had finally realized what he had done, before he eventually collapsed on the couch and fell asleep. as he landed on the couch, multiple loose pills fell from his pockets ensuring you that he wasn't mentally in the right place, and he was very obviously intoxicated.

you avoided jj at all costs, which was actually easy since he hadn't even contacted you. you were dreading his routine appearance that was bound to happen soon. you knew it was inevitable, he hasn't missed a nightly check in once, and you had been doing it for months. when you first met the pogues you were slightly scared since you were new in town and you didn't have any friends. so, jj took you under his wing. he quickly became protective over you, which is why he created this elaborate plan to sneak into your bedroom before bed every night. whether it was to just chat, talk about your day, or even just cuddle. you could always expect him at your window at around the same time every night.

usually you would confide in jj, ask for his advice. granted his advice isn't the greatest but it does help that he listens to your problems. not tonight. that wasn't the case. if anything, you wholeheartedly hoped that he would forget, or he would be too busy. he hadn't seen you since before your whole encounter with his father. you wondered if his father had told jj about what he did, and if he did, how did jj react?

you glance at the clock noticing that in the next ten minutes jj would be climbing his way into your window. your body was shaking with nerves as you glanced in the mirror. your black eye was a dead give away that something had happened. could you even tell him the truth? what if you lied, and then he called you out on it saying he already knew about it because his father told him. you contemplated every outcome of the future event that you weren't even ready when he slightly tapped your window. you quickly pulled on sunglasses that easily blocked your eye.

you smile widely, sliding your window up as he gracefully lands on your floor without making a noise, a talent he had perfected. “hey princess!” he has a huge grin on his face, his goofy smile is reason enough as to why you can't break the news to him about what his father did. “hi!” jj pulls you into a hug and you gladly take it. you wrap your arms tightly around his abdomen, as his arms are rubbing your hips. the hug ends and he slowly pulls away, his hands lingering on your hips before he grabs your hand to move to the bed. “do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?” jj asked. you waited, contemplating your choices. “either way is fine, you can choose.” you smile as he immediately gets into the little spoon position.

“hey i forgot to ask you why you are wearing those stupid glasses inside.” he laughs lightly as he reaches for them and you completely jump off the bed, scared he actually grabbed them in time. luckily, you were fast enough and the glasses were still settled on your face. “i have a horrible headache, that's all.” you nodded as his face slowly fell, he stood up, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. he glanced up at you. “we can turn the lights off so it isn't as bright in your room.” you shook your head at his compromise. “princess, i need to see your pretty face before i can declare that you are okay.” you hesitated, trying to piece together a quick story that you could tell him to explain how you wounded up with a gruesome bruise. he wasn't going to leave unless he knew you were okay.

he watched you intently, trying to see what you were hiding. “before i show you please promise me you won't freak out.” you reach for his hands and he grabs them in return, slowly nodding. “no, that's not going to count. please tell me that you won't be angry at me.” his heart swiveled up inside his chest as he heard that you thought he would be mad at you. “i promise that whatever you are about to tell me won't make me upset, and that i could never stay mad at you.” you nodded to his words. “okay so you know what you just said?” he tilted his head confused, “yeah?” you breathe in, trying to calm your nerves. “remember that.”

you hesitantly reach your arm up to expose your once hidden eyes. at first it doesn't register so he stares at you blankly. but the moment he saw it, he was already standing up, and freaking out. “hey you said you wouldn't be mad!” he ran fingers through his blonde hair, his eyes wide. “what the fuck…? i said i wouldn't be mad if YOU did something, i never said anything about not getting mad when it involves someone else!” he looks back at you and immediately investigates your eye. his jaw clenched as he looked above you, his hand gripping your chin. “who the fuck did this to you?” you stayed quiet, until he looked down at you waiting for an answer.

silence fills the room leaving it eerily silent. “i can't tell you jj,” he laughs, shaking his head, “that's a funny joke, now tell me what happened and who the fuck hit you?” you looked away. “jj there's nothing you can do.” he followed along with your shenanigans. “and why is that?” you couldn't look at him so you looked at the floor. your silence was only making him more worried. “who was it actually? who are you protecting!?” he was getting frustrated. “fine. i'll tell you, only because i know you'll find out sooner or later.” he pulled you onto his lap, one hand holding your thigh, while the other grabbed your curvy hip. you took a deep breath before continuing. “okay. earlier today i baked you cookies and i stopped by your house so i could drop them off. but your dad was there, and i was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. it was my fault. okay?”

he shook his head, his grip on your thigh tightening. “you're telling me that my father gave you a black eye?” his tone was shockingly low as he absorbed every word you said. “yes. and he stomped on the cookies i made you.” his chest started heaving. “i fucking hate him! everything in my life he has to ruin. you, you mean so fucking much to me, and he’s over here throwing punches at you!” you stayed quiet. “jj?” he looked down at you, trying not to get too worked up because the last thing he wanted to do was scare you, “yes princess?” you hesitated with what you were going to say. you leaned your head to rest onto his shoulder.

“i- okay, i really appreciate you, but i can't have you getting hurt because of me. you're not my boyfriend, and you don't have to protect me anymore. i know you feel obligated with that pact we made when i first moved here, but you don't have to inconvenience yourself by coming over here every night, or by fighting people who harass me, or anything. jj, i feel so bad that you are roped into this position because i never intended for this to happen.” he stays silent, “no way am i leaving you. princess, please throw that thought away right now. i’m here for you always. and i am going to continue to protect you because even if i'm not your boyfriend, that doesn't mean i don't want you safe.”

you are so stunned by his response that your breath gets caught in your throat. “what do you mean?” he smiles looking down, his hands finding themselves comfortable around your hips. “what i'm saying is, that i do want to be your boyfriend. i want people to know how much you mean to me, and i want the whole world to be jealous that i have you, and they can't have you. i want to be the one who protects you. so, if you'd want me too, i'd love to be your boyfriend, if not that is completely okay.” you stared at him, “jj, you'll never know how long i've wanted to do this.” he looks at you confused before your lips connect to his. you run your hand through his hair, while the other hand is sitting on his jaw. his hands hungrily grasp your hips as he pulls you closer to enhance the kiss. you both pull away, smiling.

you asked jj to spend the night with you. he agreed, which resulted in him laying on his back as your head lay still on his chest. one of his hands was always touching you, so he could ensure you weren't going to go anywhere. as you slowly fell asleep beside him, he started to think about what his father had done. with anger clouding his better judgement, he stealthily slipped out your grasp, and climbed out your window, set to fulfil the goal in his head.

eek i hope this was good <333. perhaps a part two...???

#jj maybank #plus size reader #jj maybank x plus!reader #jj maybank x reader #maybank #jj #jj maybank angst #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader angst #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks fanfic #fiction #writing #jj maybank plus size reader #jj x fem!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 3 years ago

Text

Definitely Not Dating (H.HJ)

Warnings : none i can think of?

Word Count : 1622

Synopsis : all their friends tease them about dating due to how close they were, but they were just friends. or were they?

“Your boyfriend’s here.” My roommate and best friend, Felix, teased after answering the door. Hyunjin was close behind him, chuckling at the joke all our friends made about us.

“Still not dating.” I countered as I stood up from the couch, grabbing my purse. “Where to today?” My words were now directed at Hyunjin who was standing in the doorway, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“I figured we’d go see that play you’re always talking about. There’s a showing downtown tonight.” My eyes lit up when he said that. “I already bought the tickets.” He added with a chuckle.

“Have I ever told you I love you, Hwang Hyunjin?” I asked with a smile, linking my arm with his as we made our way outside and to his car.

“Only everyday.” He countered with a smirk.

“Never mind, I hate you. Ugly.” I unlinked our arms as he opened the door for me, as he always would. As I got in and buckled my seatbelt, I could see Felix in the window, watching us with a teasing grin on his face. I knew exactly what he was thinking, so I flipped him off just as Hyunjin got into the driver’s seat. He looked forward just in time to see Felix return the gesture while sticking his tongue out.

“You two have an odd friendship.” He chuckled as he did up his seatbelt. My phone automatically connected to his car as he usually let me play whatever I wanted to listen to. Our friends would always mention how cute that fact was. Maybe if you had better taste in music, he’d let you play your playlists. I’d always retort, hoping the growing feelings weren’t as obvious as our friends insisted they were.

The next day, I sat at a table in the library with a couple of friends, working on the homework given out that day. My phone, that sat on the table, seemed to vibrate with a text message every few seconds. “Should probably see what they want. It’s probably your boyfriend.” Jeongin teased, nudging me with his shoulder. I rolled my eyes, once again saying that Hyunjin and I weren’t dating.

“It’s probably Felix asking me to pick up something on my way home. Hyunjin said he was going to the dance studio today.” Hyunjin always threw himself into his dances, barely looking at his phone unless it was to pick a song or pause the music. There was absolutely no way he would be texting me right now. But when I picked it up, I was shocked to see it was him.

We should get dinner tonight.

That restaurant you like has an opening tonight. I’ll make the reservations.

We could go stargazing after.

Why aren’t you answering me?

Oh right, you’re studying with Jeongin and Seungmin. Tell them I said hi!

Let me know when you’re done, I’ll pick you up : )

I couldn’t help but smile at the messages, my stomach doing flips as I thought about how this would be a cute date, if it was a date. Dinner and stargazing. “So, what does Felix want?” The teasing tone coming from Seungmin’s lips told me he knew it wasn’t Felix.

“Hyunjin says hi.” I answered, watching as their faces contorted into teasing grins.

“And?” Jeongin prodded, nudging me with his shoulder again.

“And that he’s making reservations at a restaurant before taking me stargazing.” I mumbled under my breath, hoping they wouldn’t hear me. They did.

Hyunjin stayed true to his word and was outside the library doors when Jeongin, Seungmin, and I exited. His long blond hair tied up in that half pony he always did, his bangs falling across his face. I never was one for long, dyed hair before, preferring men with shorter, dark hair. But Hyunjin pulled off the long blond look so well it was hard not to be drawn to him. “Have fun on your date!” Jeongin teased as the two of them took off in the opposite direction of Hyunjin and I.

“Do you think our friends will ever believe we’re just friends?” Hyunjin joked as he slid his hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. I giggled to myself, knowing that if I was an outsider looking in, I would think exactly the way they do. But this is how our friendship has been since high school. We’ve always been touchy with each other, cuddling and holding hands.

“Once we’re married to other people.” I joked, trying not to let the hurt I felt at the very thought of him falling in love with someone else evident in my voice.

We sat across from each other at my favourite restaurant, browsing the menu in silence. Soft chatter from the other patrons, and the soft classical music they played filling the comfortable silence between us. If I’m honest, I’ve only been here one other time. My previous birthday, Hyunjin brought me here. It was the first time we’d been somewhere so fancy, and we were quite underdressed, not knowing the dress code for the restaurant. We laughed about how badly we stuck out among the other patrons, but neither one of us cared. That memory alone made it my favourite place.

Hyunjin held my hand from across the table as we ate, catching each other up on our day as if we hadn’t seen each other in ages, even though I saw him yesterday. We rarely went a day without seeing each other, almost as if we had a need to be by each other’s side whenever possible.

We laid beside each other on the blanket Hyunjin brought, staring up at the night sky sparkling with stars. Soft music played from his phone that was laying in between us. He quietly sung along to the songs, and my heart swelled with joy. I absolutely loved listening to him sing, even though he hates singing in front of people. I’m sure I’m the only person that’s ever heard him, and honestly that should be a crime. His voice was my favourite in the entire world, but maybe I’m biased because I love him.

“We’re friends, right?” I asked, silencing his singing, and bringing his attention from the stars to me. I turned my head to face him, our eyes meeting.

“Of course.” He replied almost immediately.

“But are we just friends?” The question hung in the air longer than the first one, but neither one of us moved, our eyes still locked. The weight of his hand in mind suddenly clearer than it’s ever been before.

“What do you mean?” It was as if the words he meant to say were caught in his throat. I could hear it in the way his voice cracked when he answered.

“Our friends always tease us about dating.” I pointed out.

“That’s what friends do.” He smiled, his thumb now running over my knuckles. My skin burned from his touch, but I loved the feeling.

“We’re always holding hands and cuddling.”

“We’re touchy people.” He shrugged. I didn’t bring up the many times he told our other friends that he didn’t like skin ship. He wasn’t much of a hugger unless it was me. But I didn’t bring that up.

“What about all the fancy dinners? The plays? Movies? Stargazing?” I gestured to what we were doing right now with my free hand, refusing to pull my hand away from his, loving the feeling of his hand in mine. I always have.

“I like spoiling you.” Silence fell upon us again as I tried to think of what else to say. So many more things to point out, but I’m sure he had an explanation for it all. The drawers of my stuff at his place, and the drawer of his stuff at my place. The loving captions on pictures we posted of each other. The heart-shaped necklace he gave me one day, our initials engraved on the back of it. He’d have an explanation for it all, that I’m sure of. But there’s one thing he couldn’t explain away.

“I’m in love with you.” The words rolled off my tongue before I could stop them, as if they were meant to be said in that moment. He could explain all the cute moments and thoughtful gifts, saying it’s just the way our friendship is. That’s just how close we were. But the love I have for him isn’t platonic.

My confession hung in the air like a neon sign, and the confidence I once had began to fade. But before I could take it back, his lips were on mine. The same lips I’ve been dreaming about kissing for years, were now pressed against mine in the sweetest kiss I’ve ever experienced. It was a kiss filled with love and passion. A kiss that couldn’t be explained in a platonic way. “We aren’t just friends.” He whispered after pulling away. “I don’t think we ever were.”

He kissed me again when dropping me off at home that night, whispering a quick I love you before I walked into the house I shared with Felix. “How was your date?” Felix teased when he saw I was home.

“Perfect.” I smiled, watching as his eyes widened at the fact I didn’t bant with him.

“You’re not denying that this was a date?” He questioned, fully emerging from the kitchen, where he was most likely baking brownies.

“Why would I?” I kicked my shoes off and placed my purse on the coffee table before sitting on the couch, still on cloud nine.

“Because you always do? You and Hyunjin are just friends.” I smiled and shook my head.

“Hyunjin and I are definitely dating.”

#stray kids imagine #stray kids au #skz au #skz imagine #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin au #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #bang chan #lee minho #seo changbin

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mountswhore · 3 years ago

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Hey girl, me again 🥺I’ve had this idea in my head for ages 🤔 based off the song ‘Polaroid’ by Liam Payne Mason Mount on holiday with the boys in Mykonos, him and the boys befriend a small group (reader and friends) bassically a holiday fling between reader and Mason but he never actually gets her name or anything just a few ‘Polaroid’ pictures of them both, few months later he’s been trying to find her but can’t and the lads convince him to post it on Instagram with the caption “Instagram do your thing” after a while he notices numerous different people (her friends) tagging the reader in it and turns out it’s her and sends her a message. Thankyou sweet cheeks 😎💙

aaahh bestie this is such a good idea

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 — mason mount

summary: mason can’t find the girl he had a fling with last summer, so he takes to the internet to find you.

notes: my requests are open, ask away!

for @yourmypurpose

Winning the Champions League was supposed to be a feeling like no other, a feeling that you’d remember for the rest of your life. But Mason felt deflated, he felt like the world was closing in on him and he could do nothing but watch it happen. Even his friends noticed his awful mood, they’d gone from watching him run around the pitch with the trophy, with a smile nobody could take away from him, to this; a man not wanting to leave his bedroom, let alone his house. His career was the only thing he was doing well in, his girlfriend left him, he would just train, come home to an empty house, sleep, and repeat. It wasn’t a life worth living.

“It’ll be fun,” Declan pleaded, following his best friend into his living room, “it’ll be the perfect chance to get away from everything, from work, from the UK, from your ex.” He spoke the last part quietly, yet Mason still heard and shot his friend a glare as he sat on the couch.

“I’ll think about it.” Mason mumbled, reaching for his PlayStation controller and turning his console on. Declan was trying to get Mason to come to Mykonos with a few of the Chelsea boys, as a celebratory vacation after winning the Champions League. But he wasn’t budging.

“You say that, but you never do. Come on, if it doesn’t lift your mood, you can take the next flight home.” Declan was trying to reason with his friend, to do anything in order to get this man out of his sweatpants and into some swim shorts. This holiday was all Mason needed to get back into his rhythm, to realise you don’t need a girlfriend to be the best version of yourself, to realise he was Mason fucking Mount.

The look on Mason’s face was completely readable, a smile appearing on Declan’s face. Declan jumped onto his friend, cheering and shaking him vigorously. “You won’t regret this, we’re gonna have so much fun.”

Mason found himself in his plane seat, earphones on, and on the way to Mykonos. Greece had always been one of his dream destinations, it was one of the places he’d planned on going to with his ex. Shaking his thoughts from his head, he’d drowned himself in the music. Waiting for the next three hours to be over.

The villa was lovely, the view from his room was even better. He felt himself smile just a little, hopeful for this holiday. He’d spent the first day enjoying the food of Greece, visiting the beach, taking in the place he was staying. Every time the negative thoughts would try to push in, memories of his previous vacations with his ex, he shut it down. He forced a smile and laughed with his friends, hoping they didn’t see through this façade.

It was tiring. Getting back from a busy day and then being told there was a club in town. Having to force that smile back onto his face once more. He still dressed appropriately for the night ahead, pre-gaming with his friends before heading out to this club. It was only 8pm and it was packed, the place had an outside terrace, which didn’t seem so crowded.

Drink after drink, rounds of shots, drinking games with his friends and a few randomers. It was wild. Mason was finally beginning to let go of it all; his negative thoughts weren’t affecting him right now. It was pure bliss.

“Mase,” Declan called out, gesturing to him on the other side of the bar, “wanna play beer pong? These guys need another group.” Mason just nodded along, looking over to the group he was referring to. It was a group of four, just like them, but he’d locked eyes with you for the first time.

Throughout the game, you constantly had a smile stuck to your face, brighter than anything he’d seen before. It was the infectious type of smile, one that spread to his face too. The drinks had done a number on his movement, almost stumbling to the terrace, where only a few people sat. He took in the cool air, resting his head back onto the wall behind him.

“You good?” You questioned, sitting beside him and placing a hand on his shoulder. He quickly opened his eyes, turning his head to face you. There you were again.

“I’ve had a lot to drink,” Mason mumbled, breathing heavier than usual, “your twin looks so much like you.” You just laughed, understanding how much he’d had to drink. You had also had a lot to drink, but clearly Mason didn’t handle alcohol well.

“Here,” you instructed, holding his hand out for him and placing a cup into his hand, “it’s water, drink it.” You watched as he did so, downing it rather quickly and slamming it onto the table beside him. “Do you remember your name?”

“Yes, it’s Mount. Mason Mount.”

“Well, Mount, Mason Mount, do you remember where you’re staying? I think it might be an idea to get you home.” You spoke, the cool air sobering you up almost entirely. Mason’s head was getting droopy, you’d seen this all before, he was inches away from snoozing on your shoulder. You just giggled at him and stood up, grabbing both of his hands and pulling him up.

“We walked here from our villa, it’s a silly looking one. One with the pool shaped like a love heart.” You hummed, not knowing which one exactly, so his information rendered useless. He was leaning against you as you both walked back into the club, spotting his friends again.

“Hey, he’s had a lot to drink. I was going to walk him home but the only thing he said about the villa was that the pool was heart-shaped.” You laughed to his friend, who you’d learnt was called Ben. Mason was looking around the club, the multi-colored lights making his eyes squint in pain. This was the beginning of his hangover, he knew it was only going to get worse from here.

Ben had been kind enough to give you the villa address, and a key, so you made your way to the location. It was weird how trusting they were, for all they knew, you could be a psycho thief. You’d gotten to the villa, after an awful walk up the hill, and placed him on the couch. You didn’t even want to look at their stairs, let alone take Mason up them.

“I’ll stay here until your friends get back,” you spoke quietly, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and laying it over the half-asleep Mason, “night, Mason.”

“You never said your name.” He stated, craning his head to look at you as you sat on the opposite couch.

“Y/N.”

Declan had gotten back, wanting to arrange another outing together, a bit less boozy than a club. And here you were, on your way to spend the day on a boat. You’d brought your polaroid camera with you, hoping to get some nice pictures with your friends before you go home in a few days.

“You’re back.” You spoke, sitting beside Mason as the boat started to move. He smiled at you, handing you a flute of a sparkly liquid, which you’d taken without complaining. “Having fun so far?”

“Yeah, I’m glad I’m seeing you again. I don’t really remember much from last night apart from your face.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. You blushed, hiding it with your hands and reaching for your camera.

“What do you say to a picture? To remember this moment.” You suggested, holding the camera up at the two of you. Mason’s arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you in closer with a smirk on his face. You just smiled your usual, bright smile, and let the photo develop.

The day was spent enjoying the view, jumping off the boat multiple times, finally making your way back to the docks when the sun began to set. Everyone was sitting on the front of the boat, taking in the last few hours of the sun on their skin, whilst you and Mason were at the back together. Away from the sun, completely alone. You laid beside him, your eyes shifting to look at him every few seconds.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He retorted, poking his tongue out at you as you laughed, shoving his leg slightly.

“Oh, I already have.” You replied wittily, holding the polaroid up to show him. It was quite a creative picture, actually. His skin was tanned, muscles perky, the sun hitting him in all the right places. He was very handsome, you could only imagine the job he had back home.

“Hey, give that,” Mason chuckled, reaching for the polaroid but you’d held it away from him. He leant over to you, hand out to grab it, but you’d both been focused on something else. How close your lips were. You could feel the other’s breathe, it was straight out of a movie the way Mason grabbed your waist and closed the gap between the two of you. He was pulling you down with him, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. This was an Oscar-worthy kiss.

You knew you wouldn’t see these boys again, as you didn’t have long before you returned back to the UK. So, as you were grabbing your things, you’d flicked through the polaroid's from today, finding the one of you and Mason.

“Here,” you spoke, holding the polaroid out for him to take, “I thought you’d like it. And it’s a way of remembering your time here, and the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever laid eyes on.” You joked, but Mason really felt that way. You were the most gorgeous girl he’d laid eyes on. He came on this holiday thinking it would depress him even more, but he found fun in you.

“Trust me, I won’t forget a face like that.” He replied, placing the polaroid into his wallet and smiling. “See you,” he whispered against your neck as you hugged, one last time, “someday.”

It had been two months since he’d returned from holiday, back to work, but more importantly, back to his old self. He enjoyed going to work, coming home, and spending time with his friends. He saw beauty in his mundane life again. But he missed you. He never thought he’d miss a two day fling with a random girl on holiday, it wasn’t even a fling, The pair of you hadn’t hooked up, only shared a kiss. But it was a good kiss, an unforgettable kiss.

“Have you searched her name up?” Declan asked, relaxing into the corner of Mason’s couch, rolling his eyes as Mason opened his wallet up for the fifteenth time that day. The boys were round for their frequent game day, a day Mason looked forward to.

Mason shook his head, slightly embarrassed to have forgotten your name, in his defense, he was out-of-this-world drunk. “I don’t remember it, I was hammered. Plus, I’m sure there’s at least a thousand people in this country who share her name.”

“Post the picture on Instagram, people always find people on there, it’s creepy.” Ben added, laughing at the end of his statement. It was a good idea, but was he ready to put it out there that he’d moved on, only for his ex to be mentioned in his comments again? Were you worth all of those nasty comments?

He’d posted the polaroid that evening, with the caption:

‘Instagram, do your thing.’

You had received a call from your brother, just as you were heading up to bed. Strange, you thought, your brother only called if he had some ridiculous news. You’d answered it, sitting on your stairs as he spoke.

“Did you meet anyone on holiday?” He questioned, your mind instantly flicking back to your memories with that man. The kiss on the boat, the horrible walk up the hill, the fighting over a polaroid.

“Why’s that your business?” You questioned, running up your stairs and grabbing the polaroid's from your bedside table and flicking through them.

“It’s my business when I’m scrolling through Instagram, only to find a Chelsea player has posted a picture of you and him.” He mentioned, voice raising in disbelief as he finished his sentence. You furrowed your brows, Chelsea player?

“Chelsea player? Chelsea, as in the football team you follow?” You wondered, opening Instagram to find this man’s account. You’d forgotten his name, curse your horrible memory. “What’s his name again?”

“Mason Mount,” he recalled, and you were kicking yourself for not remembering his silly James Bond introduction. Finding his account, you’d seen his recent post. It was your polaroid. The one you’d given him the last time you’d seen each other, he was looking for you. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, scrolling the comments and seeing everyone compliment you. How did you manage to run into this man and not remember his face? Or his name? The amount of times your family had mentioned how A1 he was on the pitch, how happy they were when Chelsea had won the Champions League.

“That’s not me,” you lied to your brother, knowing there was no way of escaping this now, everyone you knew would be able to tell it was you.

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N,” he laughed on the other end of the phone, as you were frantically shoving the polaroid's back into your drawer, “I don’t know anyone else who uses a polaroid camera.”

“Should I text him?”

“You’d be an idiot not to.”

After ending the call with your brother, you sat in Mason Mount’s inbox for over an hour, unable to send him a message. Was there a right thing to say? Was ‘hi’ not enough for the man you’d left a mark on? Throwing away all of your conflicting thoughts, you sighed and just sent the word, ‘hey’. It didn’t take long for him to get back to you, so over the moon that he’d found you.

Mason: I can’t believe it worked, I actually found you.

Turns out my brother follows you and saw the picture, small world?

Mason: Chelsea fan, huh?

Guess so.

Your conversation lasted until the early hours of the morning, you promising Mason a proper date when you were both free. He had training the next day, but how could he sleep when he now knew you. He now had your Instagram, so he could talk to you, instead of staring at the polaroid in his wallet a million times a day.

#mason mount request #mase #money mase #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount

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impulsivefanwriter · 3 years ago

Text

A Flipped Scar

You know, I’ve been wondering where Red (M!Kai) got his scar from. It’s on the opposite side compared to Smith (S!Kai), and because they mostly fight in mechs, logically it doesn’t have to be from a GarmAlarm fight. What if it happened when they were younger...?

Did I have fun with this concept? Yes. Did I throw in a couple m!counterpart references? You bet!

This is set in the movieverse. TW for blood.

------

Kai knew it was going to happen eventually. Being the friend of the son of Lord Garmadon came with its own brand of dangers.

He should have just kept walking. He really should have.

But he’d heard the three older teens- were they even teens? They looked like college students, or college dropouts- badmouthing Lloyd.

On any other day, he would have kept walking. Barely. But he would have. Not because he wasn’t itching to butt into the conversation with every inch of anger he possessed, but because Lloyd didn’t like it when he did that. And it tended to backfire where it only seemed to encourage people to go directly after Lloyd, whether to say their words to his face or worse.

But then one teen had brought up the newly formed ninjaforce, and now they were badmouthing Kai’s entire team.

Cole, for being quiet and having ‘bad taste in music’.

Jay, for his panicked screams and yelps during fights.

Zane, for his overly weird attitude and sayings.

Nya, his sister, for being a ‘girl ninja’.

And Lloyd, the leader, for not being enough to stop Garmadon.

They were just kids, for FSM. Six kids against an army and evil warlord.

Ignoring the jabbing comments about the Red Ninja (he’d heard it enough on the news and on Reddit and in gossip, thank you very much), he stormed into the mostly empty playground (by himself, at night, what had he been thinking- oh wait, he wasn’t) and barked out a sharp “Hey!”

One of the teens, a fourth sitting quietly to the side, startled at his shout, but the others laughed.

“Whatcha doing out so late, kid?” One hissed out, her voice shrill and thick with smoke.

Kai wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms, holding his ground. “I don’t like how you’re talking about m- the city ninja.” He almost slipped up and said ‘my friends’, but aside from their comments about Lloyd, it wouldn’t make any sense.

The teens laughed. Another leaned closer, a big thug with a skull tattoo painted over his face. He laughed stupidly and shoved Kai, sending the boy stumbling.

The youngest of the teens, the one that had startled at his shout and the only one who hadn’t participated in the vocal jeering, shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. His green-streaked hair ruffled lightly in the wind. “Leave him alone, guys. It’s not worth it.”

“Au contraire,” said a crisply-dressed teen, studying Kai with a calculating glint in his eyes. “I want to hear why he wanted in our conversation.”

The youngest shrugged with a scowl. “Then I’m out. I’m not wasting my time here.” He stood, shooting Kai a look before huffing, turning on his heel, and walking off with clenched hands in his pockets.

The brute teen shoved Kai again, and he turned with a growl to shove back. It was about as effective as shoving a brick wall. Shrill girl shoved him from another side, and suddenly Kai found himself surrounded by the three older teens.

…he should have kept walking.

“I won’t let you talk bad about the ninja or my friend!” He snarled out, unable to keep his mouth shut. "They didn't do anything wrong!"

"Your friend..."

Kai froze. He didn’t like the tone of the calculating teen.

“Your friend,” they repeated. “Lloyd Garmadon.”

Kai’s hands clenched at his sides. “Yeah? So what. I won’t let you badmouth him.”

The three teens laughed. Shrill-girl slapped Kai hard on the back. “Oh, this is rich! A friend of the Dark Lord’s son!”

“Ha, funny man!” the brute added. “Jokester!”

The calculating teen was still staring at him oddly. Kai felt a shiver wrack down his spine- and considering he rarely, if ever, got cold, he didn’t like it one bit. Still, he held his gaze with a glare of his own. “You bastards leave him alone, got it?”

“Would you look at that, kid needs to wash his mouth out with soap!” Shrill girl crowed.

“Or better yet-“ The calculating teen said, reaching for something under his jacket. “He needs to learn to shut his mouth.”

Kai was about to retort with a fiery comment when a knife was suddenly held to his throat. He gaped, ninja instincts trying to kick in, but he hadn’t been the Red Ninja for very long yet, and he was facing three much older and bigger enemies without his mech or any weapons or backup.

Shrill-girl cackled. “Nice one, Archer! That got him to shut up quick.” She leaned closer over Kai’s shoulder, keeping him from moving away from the knife. “Not so tough now, are you?”

“Not tough!” The brute grunted. “Not tough at all!”

Despite the fear of the blade so close to his neck, Kai bared his teeth at them. His voice only barely trembled when he spat out, “I’m tough!”

The three teens looked at each other before bursting into laughter. Kai kept still, the cold knife-edge pressing his skin without breaking it. He kept his external appearance calm and angry- shoulders hunched, a furious glare, and planted feet ready to spring into a fight. But internally he was panicking, gut twisting into a million knots, warnings yelling too late.

“You hear this kid, Archer?” Shrill-girl had a laugh like a crazed banshee. “Priceless!”

“Priceless!” The brute echoed with a ghoulish smile.

“I say we shut him up,” Archer said. “What do you two think?”

Kai tried to bolt but the other two teens grabbed his arms, locking him in place. He struggled as hard as he could without slicing himself on the knife.

“I say go for it,” Shrill-girl hissed in Kai’s ear, and he recoiled at the puff of smoke blow into his face.

The brute squeezed Kai’s arm so hard he thought for sure there would be bruises the next day. “Fun!”

Archer pulled the knife back, but Kai didn’t feel any relief; not with that cold look in the teen’s eye, nor the ghost of a smirk peeling at his lips. No, he wasn’t pulling the knife back to let Kai go, he was pulling it back to-!

Kai twisted, tried to duck, or spin to the side, or just plan move, and-

“Drat, I was aiming for his mouth to shut him up. Whatever, that works too.”

Kai blinked for a moment with one eye, the other closed from reflex when he’d seen the flash of the blade in the light of the streetlamp close to his face. He wondered for one blissfully fleeting moment why he didn’t open his right eye again after the knife was gone.

Then his face exploded with pain, like a bee stinger had been dragged across his face and then lava- no, saltwater- poured on the wound. Something akin to static- like the dull background noise of a crackling campfire- filled his ears. The two teens let him go with twin hisses like they’d been burned and he dropped to his knees, one hand flying to his eye while the other caught himself before his face could hit the asphalt. Sticky liquid dripped between his fingers and rolled down the back of his hand.

The wind changed direction. A police siren sounded in the distance.

“And it was just getting good,” Shrill girl scoffed, her tone disappointed. “Let’s scram. You did a pretty good number on the kid, Archer. Hate for you to get in trouble because of this brat.”

Kai barely felt the hand cuffing the back of his head as the three teens shoved him as they hurried off, all his focus narrowed on the slick sensation of blood and the iron taste in his mouth. Hiccuping sobs, traitorous noises of pain and fear, clawed out of his throat. No, no, he couldn’t be weak, he couldn’t let something like this get to him-

He furiously wiped the red stream off his face. Leaving a splattered puddle on the playground floor, he stumbled to his feet. Immense relief swept through him when he blinked his eye open; other than the stinging pain and the blood trying to drip into his vision, he could still see.

He didn’t remember getting home, each footstep fading with the others. When he snapped back to focus, he was standing in front of the bathroom mirror at home, having somehow snuck in before Nya realized he was home. When he glanced up at the glass he quickly dropped his gaze back to the swirling red in the sink. His hair was a mess, plastered to his forehead with blood. His eye- he couldn’t tell what the injury looked like under the smear. He could still see, that was good, but FSM did it hurt.

Knocking on the door. He startled, slamming his hand into the sink faucet. Shaking it in pain, he stammered out an insisted collection of “I’m fine!” to his sister in the hall. No need to worry his older (by a handful of minutes) twin. Everything was fine. He wasn’t hurt. There were plenty of reasons why he only returned home now, it wasn’t that late. You don’t have to get mom and dad, they’re barely even here anyway.

His shaking hands spilt rubbing alcohol on his face as he tried to clean the blood off, and he yelped as the pain intensified to the point where he felt lightheaded. Suddenly Nya was at his side, the echo of the door banging open in his ears as she took one look at him and shrieked. He was in her arms a moment later, scooped in a hug that hurt his bruises but overall felt so needed. His bones melted and he went limp, the full tidal wave of fear crashing over him.

Nya was crying, saying something, but he couldn’t hear her. Nor did he hear when his parents entered, one of the rare moments where they were home, but he did feel them join the hug. The rest of the evening was a blur; sometime during it someone pressed him for details and he finally coughed out an explanation, and sometime someone must have cleaned the wound because he woke up the next morning with Nya pressed to his side and a gauze bandage wrapped around his eye.

Archer had been arrested the following afternoon as Kai was stuck in bed resting. It pissed him off that the teen would only be in custody for a couple hours maximum until they got the story out of him over attacking a friend of Lloyd Garmadon. Then Archer would probably be released with a slap on the wrist and a waggle of a finger, if even that much.

When he arrived at school the day after, scratching at the gauze mess obscuring half his vision with the sole intent of tearing the cheap knock-off eyepatch off, he was seething. He had to wear this stupid thing for a week, had to get stitches (he could feel them every time he blinked and he hated it), and to top it off, he signalled to the entire school just how weak he was. He wasn’t even through the front doors and he could already hear the rumours pouring out.

“Finally snapped-“

“-knew that kid was trouble, even before he hung out with Garmadon’s spawn-“

“-Just as corrupted as Lloyd-“

“-bet that freak as him doing all his dirty work-“

“-wouldn’t be surprised-“

“-hot-tempered and dangerous-“

“KAI!”

The whispering around them grew hushed as a green blur slammed into his side, sobbing. Kai sent a glare- hard to make it look intimidating with the cotton fluff on his face- at the students around them and carried Lloyd down the hall toward the quieter area of their lockers. When he got there he was pulled into a near-suffocating hug from behind.

“Zane, buddy,” he managed through his squeezed lungs. “Need- air-“

Zane let him go, but he’d barely had a chance to catch his breath before Cole slung an arm around his shoulder, nearly knocking him over. Jay slammed into his other side, babbling a mile a minute, and Kai huffed, exasperated but also touched by their worry. “Guys, I’m okay, really-“

“You nearly lost an eye!” Lloyd wailed. “Because of me!”

“What- green bean, no-“ Kai hugged Lloyd tighter. “No, it wasn’t because of you.”

Lloyd sniffed and rubbed off his tears in his hoodie sleeve. “But that’s- that’s what everyone’s saying-“

“And you really believe anything those idiots say?” Nya said, coming to his rescue. “The only person at fault is that stupid teen with the knife and his friends.”

Kai nodded. “Yeah!”

Lloyd didn’t look entirely convinced, but he slowly let go and sucked in a breath. Jay too grabbed a lungful of air before continuing his panicked rant about ‘never walking home at night anymore by yourself’, which Kai agreed to when he had a chance ten minutes later to interject. Zane didn’t pull him into another hug but he did continuously bump into Kai’s side in support, listing off a barrage of references to cool characters with scars.

Because of course it scarred after he took the bandage off. It looked wicked, sure, a smooth cut from above his right eyebrow, through his eye, and down his cheek in a curve towards his ear or lower jaw, but it was incredibly annoying. Despite its ‘rough look’ factor, it showed people he was a target, and in a society where intimidation was the best method to keep people from bothering his squad… well, it was like adding blood to shark-infested waters.

Not to mention those stupid rumours. It was only his friends’ concern, energy, and protective natures (usually he was the protective one for them) that helped him get through the week. He was still reminded of his failure every time he looked in a mirror, and it took a while to stop viewing the scar as weakness.

It was a scar he was left to live with, and for Lloyd and his family, he’d gain a thousand more to see them safe and happy.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #the lego ninjago movie #Lego Ninjago movie #kai #Kai Smith #kai ninjago #movie kai #kai lego ninjago #headcanon #Imp's Writing #Imp's Theories

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sisterlelianas · 4 years ago

Text

another life (oh, if only you knew)

ao3 link

this is a “small” (🤡) one-shot where our lady alcina dimitrescu meets the woman who ends up being her future lover for the first time before she’s turned into a vampire. they meet again, centuries later and are both unprepared to face each other, in their own way. In other words: they are gay ❤️ + someone tell these two fools how to navigate their feelings for each other, PLEASE

word count: 10.810 words (yeah, i know)

author’s notes: a huge chunk of this was written before i played the game, meaning most of it (including things regarding Heisenberg’s powers, etc) is not canon compliant, still, i feel like going against canon is a good thing for us, anyway. y’all know what i mean. SO! this one-shot is actually really close to my heart. alcina and the girls live in my head absolutely rent free and i don’t even mind. hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it

p.s. this is the first fic that i have ever posted and written. blame it on our milf

Big, social gatherings were useful in their own, distinct way. Meeting counts, their wives, the countesses... the secret lovers of those same counts, which everyone, but the wives, were aware of... there were plenty of those. Never a dull moment, truly. Attending a party your dear, darling husband organised, however, was a different story. Alcina Dimitrescu was not the kind of woman to be more than glad to step back from her role and allow a man to take the reigns for her, to allow him to play the part of the head of the house. She oftentimes found herself wishing for his... mysterious disappearance. He could even flat out drop dead - she was not picky.

The overwhelming noise of constant blabbering from her guests was beginning to irritate her, though. Meaningless social affairs were most definitely beneath the Countess - hiding the frown that would frequently settle on the corners of her mouth, after a particularly loud cackle from one of the men, by sipping some wine seemed to be turning into a recurring move for the woman. Everywhere she looked all she could see was uninteresting people playing a part. Acting as if they were all happy to be there. What else was new? The same faces carrying out the same conversations. The worst part was that her husband had the most... particular taste in friends. They were all male, of course, and so incredibly stupid and dull. The kind you look at and just know they won’t be saying anything insightful throughout the entire affair. Men, the Countess mused. What else could you expect from such limited beings? The mere thought of them making her frown deeper, her lips pursing slightly for what seemed like a millisecond.

Her husband was fuelled by attention - seemed to thrive off it, actually. She turned to look at him from the red, bergère chair she was sitting on and observed his behaviour from afar. One hand was in his pocket, the other holding a golden goblet filled to the brim with red wine. The contents of it would often spill and fall to the floor whenever he would give a hearty laugh or swing his arms around to better illustrate whatever dull-witted point he was trying to make. The goblet was filled to the brim no longer and his cheeks were rosy, meaning he was far from being sober, at that point. It was only a matter of time before she had to step in and chastise him for acting like a fool whose goal seemed to be disgracing House Dimitrescu, something the Countess would never turn a blind eye to. She held on to her own goblet of wine tighter, then. Luckily, it was not made of glass, or it would have shattered.

She exhaled harshly from her nose, once, before a charming, almost musical laugh broke her reverie. She had to keep herself from snapping her head to the side to look at where the sound had come from, making her movements slow and precise instead, so as to not draw attention to herself or her newfound curiosity. Well, well. Now that was a pleasant sight. The sound had come from a woman. An extremely beautiful one, at that. Her hair was brown, braided most elegantly, and complemented her features in a way that was almost indescribable. The warm lighting of the ballroom they were in altered it’s hue, reminding the other woman of free, autumn leaves, drifting gracefully in the wind. The Countess wondered how long the woman’s hair would be if she were to free it from the pins that were holding it in place.

Her dress was red, cut somewhat generously at the front. Bold, for the gathering she was attending, though it certainly made a statement, it would seem. The frame fitting, silken dress appeared to draw the attention of several men, who, of course, barely even bothered to make eye contact with the woman whenever they spoke to her. This made Alcina’s lips curl down momentarily in disgust. Men could truly be such dogs, she thought.

The brown haired woman captured the attention of every person around her whenever she’d speak, although the smile she wore did not reach her hazel coloured eyes - it had a subtle, mechanical look to it - and her posture was slightly too stiff, as if she studied every move before actually moving. Her smile, her demeanour... it was all clearly forced, but only those who were paying very close attention could see through her mask. The woman’s eyes then shifted downwards when she sipped her wine. She felt a pair of eyes on her - sort of like how you feel when roaming around in a haunted house, you don’t see anything, yet feel everything, only this time, the feeling was more than welcomed. Drifting her eyes upwards, she finally met the Countess’s gaze. Almost like a magnet. How intriguing. She was, indeed, hauntingly beautiful, the mysterious woman thought.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment, in a way that was almost too cliché. The brunette half-hoped she could relive the moment all over again. She could not look away. They both couldn’t.

The woman’s lips were still hidden behind the glass of wine, but her eyes told the Countess all she needed to know. They stared at each other for what seemed like centuries and every second of it was absolutely delicious - the brunette didn’t shy away from Alcina’s prying eyes at all, she seemed to revel in the fact that she was the one the Countess was looking at - her chest puffed slightly, her head tilting upwards a bit, and when she finally removed the goblet from her face she had an almost missable smirk painting her soft, red lips, making one of Alcina’s eyebrows arch slightly. Ah, at this rate, the things you could see just by looking into another person’s eyes was almost criminal.

Their staring contest was, much to Alcina’s chagrin, broken when a particularly loud and obnoxious laugh came from her husband. The fool was probably trying to charm one of his guests for the umpteenth time that evening. Having had enough, she stood up at once and took long strides towards him so as to not allow him to embarrass himself, or, rather, her, any further. The room didn’t fall silent, but several people spoke in a hushed tone as they watched the Countess walk towards the opposite side of the room. The way she moved was almost hypnotic - the skirts of her dress shifted delicately, her face completely still, not betraying any emotions, not a hair on her head out of place. It was almost as if she was floating.

“Beloved,” the sound of her voice evoked an immediate reaction out of her husband, who quickly turned to face her, visibly sputtering, and out of several other people near them. Heads literally turned.

Everyone knew who was at the helm of House Dimitrescu, it didn’t matter how many parties her husband attempted to throw or how many Counts he tried to butter up. There was only one, and it was not him. It was her. He knew this. She knew this. Everyone did, and playing the part of the good, perfect, respectable wife was beginning to wear the woman down in a way that was borderline dangerous, at that point. Men are technically allowed to rule sometimes, unfortunately. This was not one of those times.

“My dearest wife-“ her husband started, slurring his words slightly. She immediately cut him off by grasping his arm in a way that told him to stop talking, but also looked relatively loving to whoever was watching, “A word,” she was not asking, she was telling.

The brown haired woman, who had previously captured the Countess’s attention, watched as the couple walked, with their arms linked, towards a secluded part of their castle. She noticed how the black haired woman nodded curtly towards her guests as she walked past them, not wanting to be a poor host despite being displeased with her husband’s behaviour. Brown eyes took in the other woman’s.... figure as she walked away. A sight to behold, as she had initially guessed. Her dress hugged all her curves in the most mouthwatering way. It was almost too difficult for one to tear their eyes from her.

In the meantime, the party was simply not the same when she was absent. Like an ever-present energy, not a soul in that room could look at the Countess and mistake her for a person who could go unnoticed. Even if she wasn’t in the room physically, everything had her name written all over it. It was hers. It was all hers.

——

Several moments passed before the Countess and her husband decided to grace the party with their presence once more, still, the brunette immediately took note of it and watched as the other woman navigated the room confidently to greet some of her other guests, never once breaking into a full smile, however. Maybe they just hadn’t earned it.

If she wanted to greet her and leave a lasting impression, before having to leave the party, it had to be now.

——

“— they are positively dreadful. I cannot bear the sight of them. The man calls himself a painter yet cannot seem to find within himself the ability to paint properly!” a man loudly said, some of the guests laughing along with him. Others at him. Alcina’s facial expression, on the other hand, remained completely neutral with no signs of her cracking a smile anytime soon. The man noticed and, unfortunately for him, made an attempt to mansplain art to the Lady of the House. The group fell silent, uncomfortably so, as the man waited on Alcina to grace him with a response. It did not seem like he was getting one.

“You are out of your depth, Constantin,” Alcina immediately recognised the lilting voice, looked over her left shoulder and towards the sound. It was her. The phrase was voiced with a hint of playfulness so as to not humiliate the man any further, “Our host knows more about the wonders of the arts than you ever will.” She was standing directly beside Alcina now, yet seemingly refused to meet her gaze, choosing not to break eye contact with the man who dared question the Lady’s knowledge instead.

“In fact,” she inhaled through her nose, pursed her lips - allowing a hint of contempt to escape her for a fleeting moment - and clasped her hands at her front, “I believe we are all uncultured, empty-headed people in comparison, no? Some more than others”, she gave the man a pointed look, making the people around her chuckle in consensual agreement. That’s when she finally turned her head to face the other woman, whose gaze had been boring holes into her head as soon as she had decided to stand beside her. That’s when the brunette noticed that no one else was near the Countess, but all directly in front of her. It was as if she had stepped onto the woman’s stage. The realisation made her bow her head humbly before turning her body to fully face her, “I don’t believe we’ve met, my Countess”, she extended her hand, “Angela Drăculea, I have been meaning to make your acquaintance for awhile, now”.

This time, her smile had reached her eyes, which were now half-lidded. The laugh lines that formed charmingly around them only seemed to become more noticeable once Alcina took her hand in her own and hummed in acknowledgement, “I don’t believe our husbands have met”, she stated matter of factly.

“I beg your pardon?” the other woman said. They were still holding each other’s hands, the feeling sending shivers down Angela’s spine - she even seemed to draw nearer when the Countess spoke, which did not go unnoticed. Like a sailor being charmed by a siren, completely unaware of the perils surrounding such action. Alcina’s gaze refused to leave her own. It soon became intoxicating.

“He would have introduced us by now,” her calming voice said, before finally dropping the other woman’s hand, “Unless you come here uninvited and are a trespasser,” once again, it was not posed as an inquiry, it was as if she was throwing statements at the other woman, gauging her reaction to them.

The brunette squinted her eyes without dropping her endearing smile, “Our husbands have not met, no.” she squared her shoulders, then, and allowed her gaze to drift downwards, towards the Countess’s necklace, though she doubted that that’s what the other woman was really looking at, “I am afraid I have no husband to introduce in the first place,” she playfully said, giving her a knowing smile and looking into her eyes once more. Angela was good at matching other people’s energy. If they teased, she would tease back. If they taunted, she would follow. If they threatened...

A hint of a smile ghosted Alcina’s lips, “Is that so?”

The atmosphere changed around them almost immediately. Some of the guests even squirmed uncomfortably whilst watching the verbal exchange unfold. It was not a normal conversation by any means. The brunette seemed to be speaking to the Countess for a particular reason. Alcina, on the other hand, was testing her. Watching her. Studying her, in a way that was not totally uncomfortable but also let the other woman know that she was not to be taken for a fool. Even so, their audience didn’t seem to bother this so-called ‘Angela’, Alcina noted. If anything, it only seemed to encourage her. Interesting, she thought.

The woman gave a smile, that was absolutely sinful, and bit down on her bottom lip for a split second. The woman opened her mouth to say something before placing her, now empty, goblet of wine on a round, silver platter one of the servants, who walked past her, was holding, “Indeed,”

“Rather unusual, wouldn’t you say?”, her tone lost all signs of amusement, then, and her expression turned almost sour. The sudden change of heart caught the brunette off guard, but unfortunately to Alcina, she was quick-witted and would not back down easily.

“Some would say so, yes,” her chin tilted upwards almost imperceptibly. She couldn’t stand taller than the other woman even if she tried, however. They were about the same height, Angela was slightly shorter, but the way the Lady of the House carried herself made her look taller than any other person in that room, almost incomprehensibly so, “Some would even go as far as to question my womanhood. Be that as it may... it is not how I see it.”

Alcina’s nostrils flared for a brief second, she had a feeling that the woman before her was about to cross a line that should never be crossed. Not with her. It was as if she was pushing all her buttons just to see if she could. A mistake. Nevertheless, she pressed on, “How do you see it?”, she glowered, daring her to speak her mind.

Angela didn’t look the tiniest bit regretful. It drove Alcina mad. She was a lady, therefore making a scene was absolutely out of the question, but Gods be damned, if the woman in front of her didn’t stay in line—

“Complete and utter freedom.” she cooed. The last thing Alcina expected was for the woman to bend at the waist, then, seemingly choosing to remove herself from the conversation now before it ended poorly, and moved to hold the Countess’s hand in her own once more. She paused, allowing Alcina to remove her hand from her grasp. When that didn’t come, she looked up from under her lashes, not moving from the position she was in, and placed a deliberate kiss on her hand, feeling it tense up under her touch.

Once they stood at eye level, the first thing Angela observed was the Lady’s facial expression. First, her eyes flashed dangerously. Then, her jaw clenched. But then, and much to the brunettes dismay, Alcina’s face went blank. All terrible signs, when one is making an attempt at courtship, really. No matter though, because the last thing Angela noticed before finally moving away from the Countess were her eyes. One’s body always betrays them, it would seem, for the woman’s pupils were blown and only one word was written all over her face. Desire.

“In another life, perhaps?” was all the infuriating woman said, a soft smile on her face, before finally moving away, turning her back on the Lady and disappearing into the crowd. She left just as the Countess’s husband decided to join in on the conversation he had just missed. Whatever it was that he said, it earned him a hissed out reply from his wife.

———————————————

“My decision is final, there will be no argument. Remember from whence you came,” was all the priestess had to say for the room to settle down, “Unless any of you provide me with a reason as to why our plan should change, I advise you all spare me your childish, petty squabbles”. Her voice was cold and left no room for disagreement. Heisenberg looked at his sister, his chest puffed and a ridiculously smug grin on his face. There was nothing more she wanted to do at that moment than wipe it off his face. With his hammer, perhaps.

He had always been an irksome man, yet became even more so after his transformation. Alcina was thankful for the fact that she did not have to deal with his presence on a daily basis. He was like an annoying smell you simply could not get rid of and having to deal with familial issues even after your death felt like a poor joke. He did not respect her. She would have to change that.

“Thank you, Mother Miranda,” he patronisingly said, bowing to his sister mockingly, “you will not be disappointed”. There was his wolffish grin again. Alcina tsked and moved to stand behind her seat once more. Losing Ethan Winters did not irritate her too much - she did not care for the man nor for his safety - the fact that she was losing him to her brother, of all people, however... Now, that was a different story. It seemed that, even in death, men attempted to reach for things that were not theirs to claim. She knew her brother. His irresponsible nature would end up getting the best of him and she would have to clean up his mess. That’s how it always went. She and her daughters would’ve killed the mortal so much quicker.

He turned to face the man in shackles then, opened his arms wide and began, loudly, “Lycans and gentlemen, we thank you for waiting! And, now, let the games beg—“

He would have finished his speech if he had not been rudely interrupted by the sound of the doors, leading to the old, dilapidated chapel, slamming against the walls, a woman standing on the threshold. She was wearing all black garments, which were softly swaying in the cold, winter breeze, her face fully shadowed and hidden both by her hood and some kind of plain, black material covering the lower half of her face. Not a single hint of skin in sight. Her ensamble was not poor or dirty in the slightest. It was perhaps a bit hard on the eyes, but one could tell it was carefully handpicked by its wearer. Clothes do make others perceive you differently, after all. Whatever it was that she was trying to achieve by dressing in such fashion, it seemed that she had succeeded.

Her posture was straight and one of her, gloved, hands was holding on to some kind of satchel. Everyone in the room was surprised by the sudden interruption, including the mortal, who was now making pathetic attempts to uncomfortably turn and face whatever new threat he would have to deal with later. Everyone looked as if the woman was trespassing. Everyone but the priestess.

“You have decided to join us after all, I see,” her tone was far from welcoming. It almost sounded as if she was reprimanding the woman, not just for interrupting their meeting, but for showing up at all, “Do you come bearing news?”, once again, her tone was flat, giving away the impression of utter disinterest and boredom.

Heisenberg was leaning against his hammer and pinching the bridge of his nose with his right hand, probably wondering when he was going to be allowed to play with his food. Alcina, on the other hand, was watching this woman, who had not yet made a sound, carefully. It was almost like they had been interrupted by a ghost. A ghost they were not meant to see. She took the other woman in once more, noticing how she was, surprisingly, not as short as the others around her. Still not as tall as the Countess, but definitely much taller than her brother, for instance. How interesting.

“My suspicions were correct,” that voice.... where could she have heard it before? Lady Dimitrescu stood taller then, her eyes widening for a split second and her lips forming a thin line before she could keep her facial expressions under check. It could not be, could it? After all those years?

“You took your precious time,” Miranda critiqued, “what have you learned?”, the room was dead silent, save for a few lycans who were growling lowly at the new guest. All eyes were set on this newcomer, which, interestingly enough, seemed to upset her. Her hand had left her satchel and was now gripping her black cloak, as if she was trying to wrap it around herself even tighter. Only one other person in the room kept most of her body covered - Donna, the head of House Benenviento, but even she was a poor example. One woman was a... grieving daughter, the other was not.

“Our enemy, our true enemy, is one Chris Redfield. He plans to strike from the shadows once we are all too exhausted to retaliate.” Her voice was being somewhat muffled by the material covering her face, but it was clear enough that no one needed to listen closely to understand what she was saying. Even if she looked utterly uncomfortable, her posture did not give that away at all. She stood tall. Proud. She did not cower or shift closer to the shadows, no matter how badly she wanted to. In all honesty, it was not a poor effort, but there was one person who could see right through her.

“And you know this how, exactly?” Heisenberg drawled. Moving away from his hammer and sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose just to take a better look at the woman.

“He is here. In your village. Roaming around your property. Studying you. Something that is only happening because you were much too busy hunting down this stupid, useless man for sport,” the woman snapped, yet kept the volume of her voice relatively low and her tone neutral, clearly not entertained by the man’s behaviour. Her eyes gave out this orange glow with a red tint to it - they flashed whenever Heisenberg tried to address her. Some curses become a blessing though, because the man’s infuriating demeanour made the woman let go of her cloak, her posture straightening once more, but not out of discomfort this time.

“Careful, Angela,” the priestess warned, cutting their argument short, “know your place.” it was posed as a warning, not a threat, but, frankly, Angela had been roaming the Earth for far too long, now, and standing down was not something she was inclined to do. Ever.

“With all due respect, my Priestess, my place is something I am excruciating and painfully aware of.” Angela spat out, her tone making Alcina’s lips curl upwards in acknowledgement for a brief moment. That did sound like the woman she had met on that dreadful party all those years ago. Though she was, obviously, not the same as she once was... in more ways than one.

The room fell silent for the umpteenth time that day and remained that way for a few, uncomfortable seconds. Angela’s chest rose and fell steadily, her eyes never leaving the priestess’s. The awkward, tense moment was broken when the House Beneviento puppet, Angie, coughed once, followed by a small, meek “.... sorry...”. This was going to be a long day.

“I just want my daughter—“ general grumbles of annoyance and a loud ‘shut the fuck up’ came from the people around him. Well. Maybe that would have to come later.

“You cannot be suggesting we let this man go?” the word was practically spat out, which was definitely in character for Lady Dimitrescu, “For once, I agree with my sister,” was what Heisenberg said, earning him a disgusted look from the Countess.

“Maybe I have not made myself clear,” Angela turned to face Alcina for the first time in literal centuries, then. The taller woman wished she could see her face, her fingers twitched momentarily at the thought. Still, she refused to let any kind of emotion seep through her mask, opting to pretend to be completely unfazed by their conversation instead.

The other woman did not seem particularly glad to see her, which sent an uncomfortable feeling through the lady vampire’s chest. This kind of behaviour was not to be rewarded.

.... Surely she had not forgotten her?

“I suggest we move our efforts towards a more fruitful endeavour, such as doing away with the man who wants to eradicate us. It is entirely up to you, however,” her eyes scanned the taller woman’s face. Looking at her eyes, her hair, the laugh lines around her mouth and, then, settling on her lips before looking away entirely.

It was strange, seeing her like this. Her fiery personality was, of course, still there, but before the Countess stood a woman who was merely a shell of who she used to be. She had often thought about the woman who had boldly courted her for all to see. Wondered if she had lived a full life. Happy and free, as she was. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. She looked utterly miserable now, which was a clear indication of just how consensual the experiments that were inflicted upon her were. There they stood. What had once separated them centuries ago seemed to separate them now. One was still a caged animal, struggling to get free.

A pang of something hit Alcina’s chest. That was definitely not a feeling she welcomed with open arms. Some things are meant to be secured under lock and key. Never to be brought up, not once. This was one of those things.

The woman bowed her head slightly, a sign of respect towards the Countess. Having seen that, Heisenberg made a disgusted sound, immediately destroying whatever moment they were about to have.

“Fine. If this one goes, I want the other one,” he turned towards Miranda, “It is only fair,” the smug smile returning to his face.

The Houses argued amongst each other whilst Angela stood on the sidelines watching it all unfold. The dynamic between them seemed about what you’d expect from a bunch of dysfunctional monsters whose Mother was hellbent on calling them a family, though it was borderline comical most of the time. Angela pursed her lips and looked away from the scene with disinterest, her gaze landing on the mortal, instead. Funnily enough, he looked more confused than frightened, which almost made the woman’s lips curl up in amusement. His expression was understandable.

She was pulled away from her thoughts when Alcina threw a particularly petty insult at her brother, her eyes flashing dangerously and her booming voice carrying throughout the entire building. Even after centuries having passed, she remained the most strikingly powerful and beautiful woman Angela had ever seen. She took her time observing her then - the way the veins on her neck became more noticeable when she began raising her voice; the way her nose scrunched up in disgust whenever her brother tried to speak to her; the way she scoffed and waved her hand at him dismissively whenever he made another stupid comment. Even so, she remained positively regal throughout the entire verbal exchange. Angela wished for nothing more than to be a painter, at that exact moment, so she could immortalise the Countess as she saw her. Gazing upon her this freely almost felt like a privilege.

If only she could go back in time, she would have taken her away from that blasted party and her stupid husband and kept her all to herself, though she doubts the Countess would have let her.

Sighing in relief when Miranda put an end to their fighting for the second time that morning, Angela awaited her orders. She could spend the rest of her days admiring the taller woman, the screaming, on the other hand, was beginning to wear her down. That was when the priestess finally made her decision. Ethan Winters was no longer a priority, though he should not be allowed to leave the village as of yet. This earned her several shouts of protest from the man, who ended up being taken away by two of Miranda’s helpers.

“Do not stray from the village, Angela. I need you here,” Miranda commanded, “Alcina, take her with you. You are to await further instructions,” her wings fluttered as she spoke. Her demeanour calm, as always.

Heisenberg’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything, Angela interjected, “Very well. I will find my own way to the Castle,” and with that, she abruptly turned and walked confidently towards the exit. She needed to get out of there as soon as possible. The amount of eyes on her were making her skin crawl.

“She’s going to walk there?”, Heisenberg scrutinised, glaring at the woman as she left. His sister didn’t seem to be paying attention to what he had said, seemingly lost in thought, which was definitely uncharacteristic of her.

“Heisenberg...,” the priestess warned. The conversation was over.

Having realised his mistake, he raised his hands up in defeat, though his eyebrows were still snapped together, either in confusion or irritation.

——-

Angela could technically use her powers to get to the Castle in the blink of an eye, yet saw fit to do the exact opposite of that. Call it stubbornness or whatever else you wish - she saw her powers as entirely unnatural. Animalistic, even. There was not one thing about her transformation that she had come to terms with over the decades. There was no encore, there was no sense of accomplishment. It didn’t make her feel more powerful. No, there was only blood, sweat and tears. That’s all there ever was. No need to romanticise it. You couldn’t, even if you tried.

She looked up, trying to take in the Castle in all its glory. She wondered what the Countess had done to her husband once she was turned, the thought making her purse her lips in amusement. She didn’t seem particularly fond of the man, so her best guess was that he died an excruciating death. Whether or not he deserved it was not up to her to decide. She got exactly what she wanted, in the end. She was officially the Head of the House, no man holding her back and keeping her from achieving her fullest potential. Good. She deserved it. She deserved all of it.

Yet... facing her now, after all that had transpired? Gods forgive her. She didn’t know if she could take it.

She walked steadily towards the main entrance, her fist hovering over the flat surface of the door before finally giving it three, strong knocks. The doors were opened by two, frail looking maids who immediately stepped to the side to let her in. Choosing not to give it much thought, Angela walked through the threshold and looked around. It all looked exactly the same. A pang of nostalgia and sadness hit the woman’s chest, but her reverie was broken when the sound of two loudly beating hearts overcame her senses. Her head turned slowly towards the two maids. Their chests were rising and falling rapidly, meaning they definitely saw her as a threat - she didn’t blame them, all they could see were her eyes, and they were not really welcoming, either. Her gaze traveled along the women’s faces yet settled on their necks as soon and she noticed how they had both been... branded. The bite marks were small, so they were not given to them by the Countess. How intriguing.

“Lady Drăculea,” Ugh, “so nice of you to finally join us,” he sauntered towards her, his hammer resting on his right shoulder, “how was your morning stroll? Not too many corpses on the way, I hope”, he grinned. There were... a lot of corpses, actually. It made her stomach turn, but she would never tell him this, regardless of whether or not he was right. His ego was already too big for his own good.

“Why do you pester me,” she asked, her tone flat and her mouth twitching downwards when she realised he planned on annoying her even further. Thank goodness her face was covered, that way he had absolutely no way of knowing if he was getting under her skin.

He gave out a mocking smile and pressed on even further, “You know, I have just been made aware of the most interesting piece of information,” he toyed with the handle of his hammer and eyed the woman up and down, sizing her up. It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

Angela clenched her jaw, her mouth set in a hard line. She moved to the side in an attempt to walk past him, but he would not let her - sidestepping in front of her whenever she tried to leave.

“This isn’t your first time in the Castle. You came here once long before you were turned into one of us,” he stated matter of factly. He turned to the side, then, and used his free hand to wave it around, never letting go of his hammer, “this must really take you back. Say,” he moved closer then, his voice barely a whisper, “on a scale of one to ten, how awful was my sister?” there was his stupid grin again. Angela didn’t have the faintest clue as to how he came to know of her past - Alcina certainly had not told him, so that leaves.... who, exactly?

She heard the distinct sound of heels clicking on marble in the distance before finally deciding to give the Countess’s brother a reply, “I remember being bothered by a pesky, little man that evening and I can certainly relate to that now,” she said, curtly, “this feeling brings me back more than the haunting halls of this Castle ever could”, that was when a flash of white entered her peripheral vision. There stood the Lady of the House, in all her glorious beauty, at the top of the stairs. Her left, gloved hand resting on the railing, she seemed to be accessing the situation, trying to decide whether or not she would step in and get her brother in line. The two, poor maids were still standing on the very same spot, not being allowed to leave until the guest moves away from the front entrance and into the Castle. It was, overall, an incredibly uncomfortable situation.

Heisenberg stared at her blankly at first, but then his face broke into an almost predatory smile. He stepped closer to Angela, who refused to step back, “I am going to tell you this once and only once. Do not test me any further. I am not as patient as the Priestess, dog,” she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. It looked as if she had grown ten inches taller. Maybe she had. It certainly felt like she had. Heisenberg’s grip on his hammer tightened at the final word the woman spat out, the air around them almost crackling from all the tension. Funny how she was several inches taller than him and yet the man was still brave, or bold... stupid enough to irk her. She half hoped he would keep going - she needed to release some pent up anger anyway. Heisenberg’s posture stiffened.

Having had enough of the display of ego measuring, the Countess decided to interrupt their special moment before they ruined her day even further, “That’s enough,” she said, her voice had an edge to it. She was obviously not pleased with their behaviour - they were both just guests in her Castle, after all. She continued then, her voice much more neutral this time around, “Your chambers are this way,” she was speaking to the woman, yet her eyes were trained on her brother. The Countess slowly extended a long arm towards one of the corridors to her right, her movements precise, and her left hand, still resting on the railing, gripped it tighter.

Angela took that as her queue to finally leave Heisenberg behind, glaring at him one last time before moving away from the door, which put the two maids out of their misery and allowed them to leave the spot they were stuck in moments ago, and going up the stairs. Alcina was still standing near the railing and still eyeing her brother, who now had turned to face the two women, craning his neck slightly to look up at them. Angela watched as the two siblings seemed to communicate telepathically. She didn��t fully understand it, but felt as if it was not something she wanted to insert herself into or interrupt.

Her brother grunted something under his breath before tipping his hat at his sister and finally walking out. She was asking — no, telling — him to stand down. He was on her turf, now. No one understands the implications of that better than a dog, Angela thought.

They were alone now and, for someone who was bold enough to flirt with a married Countess at a social gathering her husband hosted, Angela did not seem to be able to meet her gaze. The taller woman enjoyed seeing her squirm, apparently, because they remained silent for a few, long seconds before the brunette was forced to say something to break the ice, “I humbly thank you, my Countess, for your gracious hospitality. It has not gone unnoticed”. Maybe her boldness was not what it used to be, but her courteousness and charm were still very much intact, Alcina noted.

All that came from Alcina was a soft hum. She stood there, accessing the woman before her. It was almost as if she was expecting something from her - Angela, being the chivalrous person that she was, knew exactly what was missing, but chose to ignore it for the time being, “That way, yes?”, she looked down the corridor Alcina had previously extended her arm towards. She secretly hoped she could simply go looking for the room herself. Standing near the Countess was torture - in the best way possible, of course.

“Indeed,” came the sharp response. She was not pleased with Angela’s choices leading up to this moment. The Lady’s lips curled downwards, something the other woman missed, since she was not even looking at her to begin with. A mistake.

Not one more word was said before the raven haired woman turned and began taking long strides towards her guest’s assigned chambers. Angela followed. She always would.

Clenching her fists to keep herself from drifting her eyes downwards and along the Countess’s frame, arriving to her guest room came as a distraction and was therefore a god given gift. Someone please. Put her out of her misery.

She watched as Alcina opened the, now ridiculously small, door, bending over at the waist to enter the room. Angela had to do the same, only she did not bend as low as her host. The room was elegantly decorated, as was expected, and surprisingly clean. She wondered just how many maids Alcina actually had and how long it would take scrape the floors clean, let alone dust each and every room off. She was glad she was not in their shoes, to say the very least.

“I won’t be needing that,” Angela said, flatly.

She could sense the taller woman’s rising anger, but her statement left the Countess confused enough that she ended up allowing the brunette to keep her head, “A mirror,” Alcina deadpanned. It was posed as a question, but when Angela turned her head to look the woman in the eyes, all she saw was utter disinterest.

“Yes. I would rather not,” she clasped her hands at her front and looked around the room. She should really stop doing that. The way she refused to meet Alcina’s eyes when she spoke to her was beginning to anger her. She could tell.

“The tone you have been carrying thus far is extremely ill-advised. You are a guest in my Castle. Do not make me remind you again,” her voice was as cold as steel, yet the Lady of the House seemed to show leniency for the second time that morning. If Angela were someone else, her head would probably be on a spike in the Castle grounds. Still, abusing her luck any further would be unwise.

The shorter woman’s pulse quickened and she bit on the insides of her cheek to keep herself grounded. Turning to fully face the Lady once more, she began removing the garments that were covering her face. First her hood and then her black mask, letting it settle around her neck, instead.

Alcina’s eyes seemed to immediately absorb the newly exposed features, her gaze scanning her face shamelessly before falling squarely on her lips and on a scar on the left side of her upper lip, which was new to her. Her hair also looked different. Gone was the intricate hairstyle with braids - taking its place was a loose bun. Alcina’s eyes were, once again, the only thing that betrayed her emotions and cracked her mask, for everything else in the woman, from her face down to her posture, was absolutely still and unreadable. Angela was aware of the fact that she looked older. Pale. The agony she felt over the decades written all over her face.

She did not bother to decipher how Alcina saw her now, it was ultimately pointless and she doubted the Countess cared that much about whatever it was that she thought she saw in her. It had been years since the smaller woman had looked at herself in a mirror - she refused to do it ever since her transformation, in fact, which explained her aversion towards them now.

“Forgive me, offending you was not my intention. It never will be,” her eyes were tired, yet she did not break eye contact with the woman this time, “it was poor of me,” she was visibly choosing her words in the most careful way possible, “I simply need to cover it, is all,” she hoped that her choice of words did not anger her host this time around. She awaited her response

...

“Do as you must,” and with that, the Lady left.

Angela sighed to herself and began looking for spare sheets so she could cover the blasted thing and not have to look at it any longer. Thankfully, no one was there to see her as she struggled to place the sheets over the mirror - not wanting to look at herself as she did it made the affair ten times harder. It almost made her laugh, in fact. It was too ridiculous. A low chuckle resonated throughout the room all of the sudden. It... didn’t come from her. Turning slowly, she was met with a pair of bright, yellow eyes, lurking in the shadows.

“It would be easier if you turned them to the side and tucked them behind it,” the young woman said, nodding her head towards the sheets Angela was holding. The brunette stared at her for a few seconds before looking down and taking her advice, turning the sheets, placing them over the mirror - though she turned her face to not look at her reflection - and, after a couple of attempts, managing to tuck them behind the damned thing. Finally.

“Well, would you look at that,” Angela mused.

“That took you way longer than it should have,” the faceless woman deadpanned.

That seemed to catch Angela off guard and she snorted, against her better judgment, before clearing her throat and facing the pair of eyes once more, “I don’t think we’ve met. Angela D—“, she thought about extending a hand to greet the mysterious figure in the shadows, but was interrupted before she could even finish saying her name.

“I know who you are,” she teased, “Mother has told us all we need to know about you,” she continued. That made Angela’s posture straighten. Us? Mother?

“I seem to be at a disadvantage, then. The Countess has not told me your name,” Angela countered. She didn’t feel threatened by the girl, still, she seemed clever. And nothing good can come out of Alcina’s children, surely.

The mystery girl left the shadows then and, curiously enough, she did not seem to resemble Alcina at all, yet the way she carried herself did remind her of the Countess. Her calm, yet reserved demeanour almost too close to her mother’s.

“Bela,” she told the taller woman, her face blank.

“It is an honour to meet one of the Countess’s daughters,” she bowed her head slightly at the girl.

“Mother spoke of you often,” the girl told her, apparently seeming to be more inclined towards skipping the pleasantries, “though I must warn you, do not upset her,” monotoned the daughter, “my sisters and I are not kind to those who do.”

Angela didn’t take it as a threat, though she knew she probably should. Part of her was glad Alcina had such devoted daughters. The other half was amused at the child’s boldness.

“I understand,” she told her, wanting to reassure her. Upsetting the Lady of the House was definitely not on Angela’s list of things to do, yet she didn’t want her daughters to think that she, a guest, planned on harming their mother. Gods forbid.

“Good,” Bela finished. As soon as the word was out of her mouth she all but dissipated in front of Angela’s eyes, leaving in her wake a cloud of small insects who disappeared through the cracks in the walls and left the room. Were the cracks there to allow them to traverse the Castle faster...? Angela stood there for a second, trying to understand what had just happened before giving up and shaking her head slightly. Hopefully this day was done with throwing things at her and actually allowed her to finally rest before being summoned by Miranda.

She was out of luck, it seemed. The nights were always so much harder on her for no apparent reason. At least not one that she was aware of. Before she tried to go to bed and call it a day, she had to ask Alcina for.... a bigger nightdress. It was utterly embarrassing, but thankfully the Countess was kind enough to not make any comments. The maids then gave her a silk nightgown - it didn’t fit her particularly well since the Lady was still taller than her, but it was better than wearing nothing at all.

She was in bed and staring at the ceiling, her fingers intertwined and her hands resting on her chest. She was tired, but knew that having a good nights sleep was not something that would happen any time soon. Even if she did manage to rest her eyes for a couple of hours, the nightmares would certainly wake her up. She longed for the nights, before her transformation, when she simply had to shut her eyes to fall asleep for as long as she wished. Now she didn’t need to sleep as much, true, but the nightmares proved themselves to be much more than a nuisance. They plagued her almost every night. It frustrated the woman beyond words.

Choosing to do something else with her “free” time, she got up, put her, or Alcina’s, slippers on, which were also not the right size for her, and left her room. The Castle was not as cold as it appeared to be, for whatever reason, so discomfort was not something she had to deal with as she explored the halls of a Castle she had already been in... in another life. Something caught her eye, then, as she roamed around, taking everything in. A piano. An expensive looking one, at that. She drew nearer to take a closer look, running her hands over the keys without pressing too hard on them so as to not make any sound. It was clean. Not a speck of dust on it. Those poor maids.

She felt a pair of eyes on her again, but the way the energy in the room shifted dramatically told her this wasn’t one of the daughters.

“Do you play?” Angela asked softly, her fingers still running over the surface of the piano. She heard a low hum first - the actual reply came a few seconds later.

“Yes, though it’s been centuries since I last indulged in it,” said the Countess, her tone was almost matching the other woman’s. It wasn’t soft per se, but it was softer than usual.

“Ah,” Angela let out a bitter, halfhearted chuckle, “the mundane getting left behind once more, yes?”, she rested her hand on top of the piano and turned her head slightly, awaiting the other woman’s response but still not looking at her.

“You speak of the past most fondly,” Alcina’s tone indicated that she disapproved of such notion, though she was clearly trying to not flat out say it. The comment made Angela’s expression close up immediately and she moved to stand next to a big window, trying to distract herself from the unpleasant thoughts creeping up on her. Ah. The moon and her were well acquainted by now.

“If I could go back in time, I would.” she retorted. That was all she wanted to say on the matter, though she doubted the conversation would end there.

Alcina was still watching her from the shadows, her gaze trained on her. The scenario reminded Angela of a sinner confessing the unspeakable to a priest. Funny how the Countess was the priest in that situation. The thought had Angela biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling. The amusement quickly dissipated from her mind, however, as it often did.

“I have.... regrets. Nothing has meaning now,” the woman confessed, she crossed her arms at her midriff then, her nails digging into her biceps.

“If you feel as if there may not be meaning, then find one and seize it,” the reply was not meant to sting, but it did nonetheless. Of course she would say that. Why wouldn’t she?

“It is easier said than done,” Angela said bitterly. The conversation was beginning to turn sour.

She heard the Lady tsk and then felt her getting closer, her steps almost soundless. She doesn’t hear the telltale clicking of her heels, so she must not be wearing them, “Excuses, excuses,” she was standing right next to her now, though she wasn’t facing the shorter woman. They were both looking out. Facing the moon. Angela found it preferable, that way. Stripping herself of all her walls in front of the Countess was easier if she did not have to stare into her eyes. The shadows served as her shield. The dark making her feel at home.

They stayed in comfortable silence for awhile before Angela broke it “I still feel it,” she had an almost pained expression, her voice no more than a whisper, “withering away, like a dying ember, and rotting inside me,”

That made Alcina turn her head to face her, waiting for her to continue. She watched as the woman’s arms dropped, only for her to begin pinching the area between her index finger and thumb with her other hand. It looked painful.

“My humanity,” Silence. Her jaw clenched and her bottom lip trembled for a brief second, not out of sadness but anger, “she took everything from me” she sneered.

“Mother Miranda only does what is best for us,” Angela wanted to interrupt her before she even had the chance to finish her sentence, but thought better of it. She pinched her hand harder. Alcina noticed.

“Do not say that. It might be what you tell yourself, but do not say it to me. Please.” Her face twisted in both anger and frustration. She was trying her damnedest not to snap at the Countess.

“The world could fit in your hands now. Seeing that as a curse and not a blessing is completely unfathomable,” Alcina coldly said. It was almost as if she was daring the shorter woman to test her patience once more.

“To you,”

“To me, and everyone else,”

Angela knew she could not make the other woman listen. Alcina had everything she had ever wanted - her transformation opened doors for her that would otherwise remain closed. Angela could understand that and was glad that the Lady of the House belonged to no one but herself. Still, that’s not how she saw it. Angela was taken, against her will, and experimented on by a woman whose only goal was to take what made Angela herself, turning her into one those.... things. And for what? What purpose did that serve her? They were all failed experiments. The rejects wrapped around her finger, some more than others. It was hell. How could Alcina not see that?

The point was, Alcina would never understand what she felt. Angela didn’t even fully understand it herself, to be quite honest. All she knew was she was not living. She wouldn’t wish what she was going through on her worst enemy.

Knowing that debating the Countess was a pointless resistance for her, she simply turned to walk away, wanting to put some distance between them. She was so incredibly tired...

... and she would have left, if the other woman hadn’t grabbed her wrist with inhuman speed. Being forced to turn her entire body and face the Countess, she tried to pull her wrist back, which she failed to do. Alcina was unsurprisingly strong and her grip unrelenting. The amount of force she used caused Angela to stumble forward a bit and into her - they were practically breathing the same air now, though the shorter woman had to crane her head upwards to actually lock eyes with the Countess. Her height allowed her to be at eye level with Alcina’s collarbone, but no more than that. It didn’t bother her too much.... no reason behind it.

“Do not turn your back on me,” the Countess warned, a scowl painting her face.

Even in this moment she looked absolutely magnificent, making Angela’s heart squeeze almost painfully in her chest for the first time in years. It dawned on her then, that the Countess was out of her normal attire - she wore a silken nightgown, much like her own, only hers actually fit her, and a sheer, black robe with a floral pattern; her hat was also missing. Closing her eyes to keep her gaze from wandering lower, all she could feel was the woman’s cold, yet impossibly soft, hand wrapped around her wrist.

She knew the tips of her ears would’ve turned pink by now, if they could. Thinking about it only made it worse. Her chest was heaving, her heart hammering in her chest, and their breaths mingled. Angela gulped slightly before opening her eyes again. She desperately wished to caress the other woman’s face, right about now - the light provided by the moon highlighted her features in the most beautiful of ways. She was utterly and completely under the Countess’s spell.

Alcina was still holding on to her wrist and using the same amount of force. Angela’s hand was trapped in between their bodies, if the Countess were to let go of her.... Well.

There was a scowl on her face no longer and she seemed to be struggling to keep her facial expressions under control. Her eyes dropped to Angela’s, now parted, lips, particularly on her scar, causing her own lips to twitch. The brunette noticed and was overtook by longing almost immediately. She needed to get away from the other woman, though she didn’t know how and every second that went by made it harder for her to tell Alcina to unhand her. Maybe she didn’t need to get away. Maybe what she needed was to draw even closer.

She could smell something floral - the other woman’s perfume? Maybe to honor the crest of House Dimitrescu? She could smell the Countess’s perfume, so, yes, they were that close.

Choosing to blame it on how intoxicating the woman’s scent was, Angela’s right hand, the one that was free, slowly moved upwards and towards the taller woman’s face, her fingers ghosting over it, not daring to touch just yet. She was silently asking for the Countess’s consent - she knew she should’ve verbalised it, but all her senses were malfunctioning. All she could see was her. All she knew was Her.

Alcina did not object, though her jaw clenched for a brief second. Angela suspected it was not due to anger, so she took it as her confirmation.

Initially, her touch resembled that of a feather - she feared that if she moved too quickly she would lose the woman just as fast. So far, so good. She ran the pads of her index and middle fingers over the Countess’s cheekbones, her eyes tracing the movement. Then, she ran the tips of her fingers over her nose, her brow; memorising every feature. Her pupils dilated when she traced them over the woman’s lips, which were now bare and without any lipstick. She wondered if she was taking more than she should, but her worries floated away when she heard the taller woman’s breath quicken before she was able to control it once more.

Feeling emboldened, Angela cupped the right side of her face. Alcina was no longer forcefully grabbing her wrist, but gently holding it. The brunette’s hand then fell to the right side of her neck, sliding down to settle on the top of her breast and near her heart.

And there they stayed for awhile. The moon their only witness. If this was a dream, Angela would kill whoever dared to wake her up. It didn’t seem like a dream, though, because what the other woman said next was vocalised much too clearly.

“You have haunted me for years,” she professed, her brow furrowed - she was clearly struggling to come to terms with whatever it was that she was currently feeling. Angela didn’t blame her.

“Good,” it was said absentmindedly, though there was honesty behind it.

Alcina’s chin turned upwards. She seemed... determined, maybe? Or was it something else? Angela was distracted.

Oh, it was definitely determination, for the Countess’s hand, the one that was holding Angela’s wrist, snaked around the shorter woman’s neck and pulled her towards her for their lips to meet.

Angela’s eyes all but bulged out of her head at first, but she quickly regained her senses. She was not a shy lover and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about this specific moment several times throughout the years - she was not going to blow it now. Grabbing a fistful of Alcina’s robe and nightgown, she parted her lips, allowing the other woman to deepen the kiss further. They fit together perfectly - it was as if Angela had finally found the missing piece to her jigsaw puzzle. They had finally come full circle. This is what they should’ve done the first time they met. They both knew this. This was a second chance they were not going to miss.

Turns out the Countess was an excellent kisser, not that it was of any surprise. She did have centuries to practice, after all, but it still made Angela’s heart flutter in her chest, the feeling settling on the pit of her stomach. Damn, that woman. The shorter woman inhaled through her nose sharply when Alcina’s hand, the one that was previously resting on her neck, moved upwards to grab a fistful of her hair - angling her head just so. Angela was more than happy to comply.

Suddenly, Alcina broke their kiss, her lips now pink, causing Angela to lick her own in anticipation. She wanted nothing more than to hear her name leave those lips. Would the Countess even allow herself to do such a thing? Her thoughts were interrupted when the taller woman wordlessly began freeing her hair from the bun it was in. Her eyes burned with lust, but her movements were slow and gentle - they told a different story.

When her hair cascaded down, Alcina’s lips upturned, making Angela’s twist into a smile. They gazed into each other’s eyes then. Alcina’s, in particular, revealing too much. They both knew this. It was too soon.

The tender moment was broken when the black haired woman took notice of how Angela’s nightgown, which was hers - the thought sending a wave of possessiveness through her chest - was beginning to slip off her shoulders. Something dawned on her face then, and she used her left hand to pull one of the sleeves down, fully exposing Angela’s shoulder to the night air. She shivered, which did not go unnoticed by the other woman - her nipples were practically tearing holes through the soft fabric of the nightgown. The Countess locked eyes with her then, and what she saw only confirmed what was about to happen.

Angela’s eyes wordlessly told her ‘Consume me’. And so she did.

———

It seemed that it was possible for Angela to sleep without being plagued by nightmares, after all. Maybe it was due to how exhausted she was. She chose not to overthink it, now was not the time.

“What’s that,” Heisenberg said, flatly, looking to start another argument for the third time that morning. It seemed that not even during breakfast did the man mind his business. It didn’t help how he was sitting directly in front of her, either. Why had Alcina arranged the seats like that?

Angela’s expression seemed to speak for her, because the man felt like he had to explain what he had meant by his question, “That,” he pointed with his fork, “on your neck,”. Ah. Well.

She can’t talk about how the Head of House Dimitrescu picked her up effortlessly, placed her on top of her grand piano and... pushed her over the edge. Several times. She most definitely cannot talk about how, even after not allowing Angela to catch her breath, the Countess picked her up bridal style - the brunette’s legs shaking too much for her to walk - and took her to her chambers to make the shorter woman sing her name again. Over and over again. She certainly will not mention how the woman branded her with her mouth, though never actually biting into the soft flesh, as she allowed Angela to come down from the heights, her fingers still inside her as she did it. No. She couldn’t say any of that.

The woman looked down at her plate to keep her composure before meeting the man’s prying gaze again, “I woke up with it,” she paused to chew her food, not daring to look at anyone else. Alcina was on her left - she could tell she was watching her - and her girls were on her right - also watching her, “Maybe I have began decomposing faster than expected,”. She heard one of the daughters snicker before being forced to keep it down after being kicked under the table - by Bela, she was guessing.

The reply didn’t seem to satisfy Heisenberg, but he choose not to pry, for he sensed that the truth would probably end up disgusting him.

Angela gave Alcina a sidelong glance then, noticing the way she was hiding how the edge of her lips were turning upwards behind her glass.

......

In another life, indeed.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x oc #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x oc #(tagging it as x reader so it can reach a wider audience lmk if u want me to change it)#my writing #<3<3<3<3<3<3 #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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lcksndkys · 4 years ago

Text

Pairing: JJK x reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: smut, fluff, tiny hint of angst

Word count: ~8k

Summary: Save a drum, bang a drummer.

Warnings: one tasteful semi-nude sext, brief flashback of male masturbation, discussions about conception, an unholy amount of nipple play, blowjob, fingering, pussy slapping with a dick (but like, romantically), unprotected sex within an established relationship, multiple orgasms, creampie

A/N: This is my first attempt at creative writing… ever. Borne from my horny imagination and a thirst dream, this piece is an epilogue of sorts. S/o to @jinpanman and @wwilloww for being the wind beneath my wings and the floaties around my arms. Also, big thanks to Willow who made the banner <3

There are two things you know are happening tonight. One: Beyond the Scene is out celebrating the completion of their newest EP. Two: your husband, the drummer of Beyond, is going to come home, high off the adrenaline of a successful night, and fuck you into oblivion. Your period tracking app that you both have been studiously monitoring over the last few months has notified you that you were going to be ovulating over the next couple of days.

You slip into one of Jungkook’s oversized cut-off tanks and a pair of crotchless black lace panties that you know he likes. Checking in the mirror, you see a generous view of side-boob due to the cut of his shirt and you turn around and decide to forgo bottoms entirely—they’ll be discarded soon anyways. Your husband may be out with the boys tonight, but you’re determined to wait up for him. It’s not that late after all. You roll over, pulling a bottle of lube from the nightstand and set it out for later.

Lying in your shared bed, you check your phone again, reading the last messages you sent to each other.

[9:51pm] Jungkook-ah: i’ll be home late babe. dont wait up. love you.

[9:54pm] You: … but i’m ovulating today. I want you.

You haven’t heard from him since. Tapping to the camera icon on your phone, you decide to send a little more encouragement. You quickly snap a photo of your torso covered in his shirt, making sure to give a tasteful glimpse of your ensemble.

[11:39pm] Jungkook-ah: fcuk. dont temnt meee idk when ill b home

You sigh. He's definitely drunk which means that even if he did come home soon, he’d be too wasted to finish the job, more likely to fall asleep seconds after washing up. Tossing your phone onto your pillow, you roll to Jungkook’s side of the bed. Breathing in his clean, slightly sweet scent, you let it comfort you as your eyes close. Your mind drifts off to the first time you ever saw Jungkook as a man.

Sprawled out on a twin sized bed, there was barely enough space for the two of you. Propped against the headboard and wearing nothing but a smile, he laced his fingers behind his head and cockily encouraged you to take pictures. “They’ll last longer,” he had said. Cheeky brat. You had instructed him to pleasure himself as you watched. “Tell me what you think of when you touch yourself, Koo” to which he replied, “You in my clothes with nothing on underneath”. He had whined, panting and desperate to hold off his climax with the hopes that he might get to feel you wrapped around him.

You made him promise that night would be a one off; an itch scratched. And above all, he wasn’t to speak of that night to anyone, especially his sister- your best friend. At the time, an emotional relationship was not something you were ready to pursue. And certainly not with someone so intimately linked to your inner circle. So when it happened again, and then again, you proposed an easy benefits-only relationship to which he quietly accepted. You didn’t know he had been secretly yearning for something you could not yet give him. Despite trying to push him and your emotions away, Jungkook persisted, and with time and patience, you let him into your heart and let him show you the meaning of true love.

With a love-sick smile plastered on your face, you drift off to sleep, plans for tonight all but forgotten.

_______________________________________________

Eyes still closed and hanging on to the quickly fading wisps of your dreams, you unconsciously feel around the sheets for your husband. When your hands come across nothing but layers of bedsheet and blankets and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s body heat, you roll over seeking the comfort of his embrace.

Sitting up, you see that he must’ve moved you during the night towards your side of the bed before climbing in behind you. Realizing you’re still in his shirt and the sexy panties from last night, you huff out a groan of annoyance.

You get out of bed and make the short trek to your bathroom to wash up. Jungkook never missed an opportunity to “practice” baby making. The thought that he was avoiding a session in the sheets with you makes you press the bristles harshly against your teeth.

Upon returning to your bedroom, you see that at some point Jungkook had plugged your phone in to charge. You open up your app and double check that you’re still within short the ovulation window.

The shuffling of slippers alerts you to your husband elsewhere in your shared apartment. As you leave in search of him, you notice he had put the bottle of lube away.

Padding out towards the kitchen, you can hear the tinkling of dishware and cutlery. The smell of toast floats through the air as you spot Jungkook at the counter pouring his cereal into a bowl of milk. Endearing. You smile, remembering he once reasoned that adding cereal to milk ensures you won’t be left with any soggy bits.

Coming up behind him, he startles a little with your quiet arrival. You wrap your arms around his middle, pressing a light kiss between his shoulder blades, and nuzzling your face against the wide expanse of his back.

“I missed you last night, baby,” you coo.

Turning in your embrace, Jungkook wraps one arm around your shoulders and uses a pointer finger to gently tilt your head, aligning your mouth to his. He leans down to give you a sweet, chaste kiss in greeting before pulling away.

“I’m sorry I was out late. But I’ll make it up to you ok?”

“How about you make it up to me right now?” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively, stepping back from his grasp.

His eyes rake up and down your figure, pausing to take in the long expanse of skin showing from under his cut-off tank. You turn your torso slightly, lifting your arms up overhead to smooth back your bed head, allowing him a generous view of your tits through the large armholes. You smirk to yourself knowing this simple outfit is one of his favorites on you.

“- oh, fuck,” Jungkook breathes, feeling the beginnings of desire stir in his sleep pants.

“I was so ready for you last night,” you continue, planting your hands behind you on the kitchen counter opposite of Jungkook. With a hop, you sit yourself upon the cold hard surface and try not to cringe at the sudden change of temperature on your bare rump.

You beckon towards your husband with a crook of your finger.

“I even wore one of your favorites,” you purr. Slowly trailing a hand towards your hip you pull the hem of your—well, his—shirt up, exposing some of the black lace panties you had worn.

Jaw clenched and brow furrowed. You enjoy Jungkook’s rapt attention.

“Come closer” you plead.

When he shows no sign of approaching, you lean back onto your elbows and prop one foot onto the countertop. Parting your legs, you smile victoriously when Jungkook’s eyes drop immediately to your exposed core. Thank goodness for crotchless panties.

His throat constricts at the sight of your pussy, framed in black lace, and bared lewdly for him.

“Fuck,” he growls lowley. You watch his throat bob again swallowing down a moan. He looks from your eyes, to your lips, and down between your thighs. Cock hardening, his desire rises hot and heady at the sight of you glistening before him.

Seeing him grow in the unforgiving fabric of his grey sweatpants, you grin at his visceral reaction. “You know I’m ovulating, right?” You bring your other foot up onto the counter further spreading yourself out for him. “Fuck me, baby. Fill me up with your cum.” A little dirty talk was nearly always enough encouragement to get your husband started.

Doe eyes wide, he is torn between his carnal desires to ravish you on the countertop and his mounting emotional distress.

When your husband doesn’t immediately react to your proposition, you know something is wrong. You hop off the counter and come to wrap around him. Jungkook has always been a shy boy, and as he got older, grew into a reserved man. He had a small social circle, knowing first hand that some people had no qualms with using him for his services. He was the golden boy. Jungkook was good at things and always has been- drums, sports, computers, video games, writing music, singing, sex. Many people sought to use him and had gotten away with it. And at first, he was eager to please; to prove himself worthy of the attention. But it wasn’t long before he grew cautious and began to keep a selective few close, including you.

You've always seen him. And you see him now, eyes tight with emotion he's been holding back from you. He hasn't done that in years.

Your arousal from earlier has all but dried up, evaporated with the sense that something important is weighing on Jungkook.

"Do you need me to listen or find a solution?" you ask him.

"Listen" he replies softly.

You take his hand, leading him towards the couch. Sitting down, you part your legs pulling his back to your front. You wrap all four limbs around him and lay back to let his weight press the both of you into the cushions. His hands immediately go to stroke along the soft skin of your shins. You tuck your face into his nape, ghosting soft kisses along the skin available to you. Holding him against you, you feel Jungkook slowly melt, head leaning back against your shoulder. You know he’ll speak when he's ready.

“I just… Lately I’ve been feeling like you only want a specific part of me,” says Jungkook quietly. His hands go to tuck back some of his hair behind his ears- a nervous tell he's never been able to kick. "And I guess it kind of reminded me of the time from before we officially got together, ya know?"

You feel your heart crumble in your chest at his admission. At that time, you weren’t ready for what Jungkook wanted to give you, convinced that the age gap and BTS’s rising fame would ultimately lead to disaster. Thus you had pushed for a purely physical relationship. He had agreed mistakenly believing that having your body, but not your mind or heart, was better than not having you at all. He hoped that time and love would help you change your mind. Luckily for both of you, it did.

You want to say something to comfort him, but you remember he asked you to listen. You stay quiet, giving him a safe space to speak.

"And I know we're trying for a baby, but lately there's no intimacy when you make love to me. It's like once I finish, it's over and you push me away to lay with your legs up against the wall."

You feel his ribs expand as he takes a deep breath, and then another. In, then out.

"You know how important aftercare is to me," he continues. You do know. Jungkook is a romantic; being held and praised for a job well done has always been just as important as the actual act of sex for him. "And if you're just trying to fuck me, I don't know if I want it."

There's a few moments of pause.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to have sex?” you ask softly.

Jungkook’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “No! I mean- I want it, trust me, I want you. But the last few times, it felt like you just fucked me until I came.” Jungkook goans. “You didn’t even finish. Makes me feel like a bad lover."

You cringe remembering that the last time you had been intimate with your husband, you straddled him and then rode him fast and hard until he spilled his seed inside you. The whole ordeal lasted 3 minutes tops, and then you were rolling off him onto your back leaving him to clean up on his own.

Sensing he was finished, you start to apologize. “I had no idea you felt that way,” you start. “I never meant for you to feel that way. I’m sorry.”

“I just- I love you so much, and I would give anything to make you happy,” he says quietly. His hands continue to absentmindedly traverse the length of your legs.

Your hold around him tightens, a silent I love you.

“What do you wanna do today, baby? Today’s all about you,” you promise. You’re ready to give your husband the attention he craves.

“Anything?” Jungkook asks, craning his head back to meet your gaze.

“Mhmm.”

Jungkook smiles, pleased with your enthusiasm.

“I promise you I’ll give you a creampie, but can we please just play super smash bros first?”

Seeing the child-like wonder in your husband’s eyes, you can’t help but chuckle at him. Jungkook has always been easy to please and competitive to a fault.

“Sure, Kook-ah. Maybe I’ll even let you beat me” you joke, fingers digging into his ribs causing him to laugh and squirm from your grasp.

Jungkook unwinds your legs from around his waist to set up the gaming console.

_______________________________________________

After several rounds of super smash bros, Jungkook has other ideas in his mind. Pulling you onto his lap, you’re forced to part your legs to straddle him. He fingers along the hem of your shirt pulling up the backside to expose your bare ass.

“Ah, you wore these for me?” he asks, hand rubbing circles along your quickly heating flesh.

“Depends. Are you ready to take them off me?” you retort with a wink.

Giggling, Jungkook lunges for you, wrapping his strong arms around you and burying his head into your neck. You feel the gentle pressure of his lips suckling and tilt your head further back to grant him more access to the sensitive skin of your neck.

He laps against your throat, making you moan out in satisfaction. Your arousal starts to leak onto Jungkook’s grey sweats as you absentmindedly grind your bare cunt against the stiffness growing there.

“Mmm, fuck. Let’s go” you pant, urgently tapping at Jungkook’s shoulder.

Walking into the bedroom, Jungkook slowly lowers you down to the ground, letting your front drag along his, your soft curves trailing along the firm planes of his chest. The moment your feet touch down, you gently press a hand against his chest- right over his thrumming heart- and encourage him to sit at the edge of your bed. His eyes gaze lovingly up into yours, a small smile hanging on his lips, waiting for your instruction.

You tug at the hem of his shirt. “Can you take this off, baby?”

Jungkook eagerly nods, licking his lips in anticipation. He reaches back, hooking his fingers into the neckline of his collar and pulling his stupidly oversized shirt over his head in one swift motion. For a second, he lets you admire his body. He works hard to achieve his physique and enjoys knowing you’re your attraction towards him has never waned.

You swallow down a groan as your eyes trail from his chest, dusky nipples pebbled with arousal, down his abdominals, towards the bulge in his sweats. Your husband is a beautiful man, inside and out, and he is all yours. Tonight and forever.

Climbing into his lap, you straddle him and cup his face between your hands. Jungkook needs emotional intimacy, and you’re prepared to deliver.

You kiss his forehead. “I love the way you think. You’re quiet, but so clever, and I wish more people could see how your brain works. You’re considerate of other people and so fucking humble, qualities I really admire about you.”

Moving down to his eyes, you place twin kisses over his closed eyelids. “I love the way you see the world. When I’m tired, you remind me that there is so much beauty in the mundane, and I’m so lucky to see it all by your side.”

You reach down for his hands and press your lips along the knuckles of both his hands. “I love the life you’ve helped build for and with me. People always say you’re good at everything, but they don’t see how hard you work to earn it. I respect you so much for that.” You play with his fingers- somehow long and delicate, but strong at the same time- and lace them together.

“I love your nose,” you continue, pecking the tip.

“But-”

“No interruptions, Jungkook” you hold up a hand, effectively cutting him off. “I know you’ve always thought it was a little too big and round when we were younger, but it shows how much you’ve grown into yourself over the years. You are so sexy- both on the stage and off.”

You pull back in time to see him fighting down a shy smile at your praise. “Besides, a man should have a big nose,” you wink. Unable to hide his toothy smile or blushing cheeks, you continue.

“I love these cheeks,” you say, planting sloppy kisses over his face. “When you smile - a real, genuine smile- your whole face lights up. I hope our children inherit that.”

You plant more against the beauty marks on the bridge of his nose and under his lip, on the faint scar high on his cheek. “So beautiful,” you murmur against his skin.

“These are my favorite lips. You were the first man that I believed when you told me you loved me.” You press your lips against his, kissing him gently. Tilting your head for a better angle, you press forward more ardently, and part your lips further to slide your tongue against his.

When you pull back, Jungkook’s eyes are still closed, face craning forward to chase your kiss. You card your fingers through his hair and push him back enough to look into his eyes again.

Your lips continue their loving path down his face, nipping along his sharp jawline and down his neck, paying special attention to his sensitive pulse point. Jungkook whimpers in appreciation encouraging you to work color into his skin.

“Most of all, I love your heart.” Your arms wrap around his torso, hands caressing up and down his back as your head tips down to press your mouth against his chest, just left of center. “You are patient and kind and romantic. You show me every day what true love means, and I am forever grateful for that. You have all of me, and you always will. And tonight, I want to make you feel good because I love every part of you. Even the parts you don’t particularly like yourself.”

You continue to leave wet kisses along his clavicles and throat making him moan quietly.

“Lay back for me, baby” you say, and he allows you to push him onto his back.

Your body follows him down prone on the bed, allowing your comforting weight to settle atop him and press him into the sheets. Linking your hands, you bring them up to rest by his head. You reconnect and kiss him senseless, lips and tongues moving seamlessly in a dance well practiced over the years. You continue until he’s whining, until you feel him thickening further in his pants.

Lips descending downwards, you continue a fiery trail along his jawline, hands caressing his neck and chest to maximize his pleasure. Evidence of your love blooms down his neck as you continue a path towards his chest. Perched on his lap, you grind against him as you take a nipple between your lips and begin to suck.

“A-ahh fuck”, Jungkook pants as your lips wrap more securely around his pebbled bud, tongue flicking against him. Your other hand rakes along his other pectoral, thumb catching along its twin and you rub circles over him with your thumb. His cock, which had begun to throb when you love bombed him, is now fattening with arousal.

You trail your lips across his chest making sure to provide equal attention to his sensitive buds. Dusky and shining with your saliva, you continue down his abs, licking the contours of his hard earned muscles. Jungkook continues to quietly moan at the sensation of your soft, warm mouth slowly moving south along his body.

Sitting up a bit from his supine figure, you tug down at the band of his sweatpants. “Can I take these off?” you ask, slipping your fingertips into the waistline of his bottoms. He nods his consent and you push them down as he lifts his hips up, effectively removing Jungkook’s remaining piece of clothing.

As you move to stand from his lap, he immediately sits up as if pained by any distance between your bodies. You give him one last, sweet kiss on the mouth before settling down on your knees between his spread legs. His cock, perfectly framed between powerful thighs, is hardening rapidly and attempting to defy gravity as it bobs in the space between your bodies. Licking your lips at the sight of his leaking length, you settle on the floor and reach for his base.

“Hold on” he says, stopping you to reach across the bed and pulling his pillow from under the covers offering it to you for comfort. Your heart swells at his consideration and you accept it gratefully. You place it under your knees for an added cushion and make yourself comfortable on the ground.

Maintaining eye contact you run your hands up and down his thick thighs letting your fingernails lightly scratch along the sensitive skin there. Each pass brings you closer and closer to his cock, subtly twitching in eagerness to feel you wrapped around him. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you wrap a hand around his base and feel him harden fully in your grasp. Bringing your lips down to his weeping tip, you run your tongue up and down his slit, then slowly in a circle around the engorged head leaving a ring of precum and saliva in your wake.

“F-uuuck” Jungkook keens as you continue to tease him with your tongue. “Please. More, please.”

Your lips immediately close around him, surrounding his throbbing cock with the wet heat of your mouth and begin to suck tasting his musky flavor. Popping off, you run your tongue up and down to spread moisture along his shaft; your hand will have to cover what your throat cannot take. He is not profoundly large, but he is more than thick and long enough to satisfy you.

Unable to mask his desire, Jungkook pants as your mouth works up and down his rigid length. You take him as deep as you can tolerate, gagging lightly when you feel him slide down the back of your throat with each pass. The hand not grasping his base is rubbing soothing circles along his hip and inner thigh, amplifying his pleasure.

“Mmm yeah, you’re doing so g-good,” he groans as you continue bobbing, hand furiously pumping whatever won’t fit in your mouth. He weaves his fingers into your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper into the depths of your throat. Eyes starting to water, his other hand wipes at the tears in your lash line as you continue to enthusiastically blow him.

Jungkook’s volume steadily increases along with the pace of your mouth and hand as you work over his cock. You continue to suck him off sending white hot pleasure through his veins. “Oh shit- shit.” Jungkook stops you as his impending orgasm begins to crest. “You need to stop, or I’ll cum” he breathes out. Though your mouth is no longer on him, your hand continues to slowly jerk him off.

“Aren’t you ovulating?” he tries to confirm with you. “I need to put it in you,” he insists, teeth clenching together as your hand glides up and down the full length of his dick twisting your wrist with each upstroke.

“Tonight is all about you - about us,” you shake your head. “I want to make you feel good. Can I do that?” you ask as your other hand travels from his hip to cup and gently fondle his balls.

He whimpers in pleasure as you continue to stroke him.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth tonight, baby?” you purr. No longer able to formulate a coherent sentence, he nods his head aggressively.

“Good boy,” you tease with a smirk. Your mouth returns to his cock and joins the hand pumping his shaft. Years of learning each other’s bodies has taught you the tell tale signs of your husband’s orgasms and you can tell he’s close. Very close.

Hollowing out your cheeks, you apply the suction you know he has never been able to resist. You’re determined to suck his soul from his body, gripping him firmly as you furiously work his throbbing length exactly the way you know he likes. Your mouth focuses on his mushroomed head, lips sealed around the tip and tongue lapping against the sensitive frenulum.

Jungkook desperately tries to stave off his release to linger in the wet heat of your mouth. It’s been a while since he’s allowed himself to finish down your throat and he wants to savor it. “Ah, I’m so mad that you’re so good at this” he groans, earning a muted giggle from you. Stuffed full of cock, the vibration sends a thrill up his spine.

You know Jungkook’s cumming before he can warn you. It starts with a subtle lifting of his balls as they prepare to empty into your eager mouth. Eyes squeezed shut and moaning wantonly, he chants your name over and over as he begins to orgasm. You continue your determined ministrations as his shaft pulses in your grasp.

“Hmmmph- ahh, fuck yes! Oh fuck, so good,” Jungkook whimpers as ribbons of cum burst across your tongue and hit the back of your throat. You quickly swallow his load as he erupts into your mouth. You continue stroking and sucking Jungkook through his high, helping him ride it out until he gently pushes you away when he feels the burn of overstimulation.

“Good?” you smile up at him and let go of his wilting length to lick at a stray bit of cum from your thumb. You wipe off the remaining spit on your shirt.

“Amazing,” he replies, smiling dazedly down at you.

You allow him to pull you from the ground up onto the bed with him, laughing when your knees pop loudly in the quiet of the room as you stand up. Giggling, you curl up against his side listening as his heart rate evens out to a steady rhythm. You can't be bothered to care that his skin is tacky with a light sheen of sweat.

You lay against Jungkook for a few minutes as he basks in the afterglow of a powerful orgasm. He pulls you tighter against him, tipping his head down to kiss you for a blow job-well-done. Tasting the residual flavor of his cum, he groans against your mouth, enjoying your combined essences.

Jungkook rolls you onto your back, continuing to kiss you with fervor. The sound of lips and tongues clashing fill the room as the two of you enjoy the simple intimacy of being together. Reaching down, Jungkook spreads your legs apart to make room for him to lay comfortably between your thighs.

“W-what,” you’re breathless as his lips leave your mouth and travel down your jaw.

“Mmm,” he mumbles against your skin. “It’s your turn now.” He nibbles along your sensitive neck, goosebumps rising with his light touch.

You run your fingertips up and down his back, scratching along the peaks and valleys of his spine. Leaning his weight into one arm, he uses the other to push up the hem of your shirt, ghosting a hand under to cup a breast. He palms greedily at the flesh as he continues to kiss you passionately.

“I wanna see you,” says Jungkook. “Can I take this off?” he gestures at his cut-off tank you’re still wearing.

Criss crossing your arms and pulling up by its hem, you bare your chest to Jungkook’s eager eyes. His gaze drops down to admire the bouncing of your tits as you wiggle out of your top. Propping up on his elbows, he ducks his head to capture a nipple between his petal soft lips, coaxing it into a stiff peak with gentle suction and the lapping of his tongue. When your back arches in pleasure and you clutch his head to you, Jungkook takes the opportunity to slide his arms under you to hold you securely to his mouth as he worships at the altar of your breasts.

“Baby, yes, you’re so good to me” you pant, feeling your arousal generously leak from your core.

Eyes closed and relishing in the sensation, you whimper, sending one hand to grip his long, dark locks and feeling the prickle of his freshly trimmed undercut. With a hand in his mane, you feel him unlatch from your tight bud to plant wet open mouthed kisses around your areola and across your chest. He stops over your heart, lips lingering to feel the rapid thumping rattle your sternum.

Generous with his attention, he moves to nip and suck around your neglected breast. He slurps your nipple into his eager mouth, tongue swirling to tease it to a hard peak. Jungkook's diligent stimulation of your breasts sends sparks of pleasure down to your cunt as he continues to lap at your pebbled beds.

“More, please,” you whine, bucking your hips upwards, hoping to encourage him to touch you where you need it most.

Hearing you beg so prettily for him slowly coaxes life back into his spent cock. He feels himself begin to swell again against your thigh. Pleasuring you has always been incredibly arousing for him, and he knows with a several more minutes of rest, he’ll be ready to fuck you senseless.

Pulling an arm out from under your torso, Jungkook leans his weight onto one elbow and sends his free hand down between your legs to the treasure between your thighs. His lips pursed around your nipple continues to suckle and tease you into a frenzy.

The room fills with sounds of your mewling and his blunted goans as he plays the familiar song of your body. His hands brush against the soft black lace as he spreads your legs, positioning you to his liking.

“So wet,” Jungkook acknowledges with a quirk of his lips, fingers swiping along your slit to feel for your arousal. Bringing those fingers towards his mouth, he sucks your essence from his fingertips, savoring your taste. Jungkook switches nipples again and his fingers, now slickened with his saliva, return to the warmth of your pussy.

You gasp when you feel him caress at your opening before sinking a lone finger into your tight, wet heat. Jungkook can’t help but grunt as he feels your walls clench around him, excited to feel it around his growing erection.

“It’s all for you baby,” you praise him, carding your fingers through his fringe and pushing his hair back to get a better view of him suckling at your breast. Your breath hitches when you feel him add a second finger, stretching you open with his long, tattooed digits and curling them against your g-spot.

“Mmm yes- ahh. Fuck me with them,” you plead. Lacking the power to drive you towards an orgasm, he teases you with sensual strokes until your cunt drips down your ass and his fingers come out sparkling with your arousal. Completely at his mercy, you feel Jungkook slow down further. Brat.

You’re writhing beneath him as he continues his personal brand of slow, pleasurable torture. His lips release your tender nipple and return to your open mouth attempting to swallow your moans.

“Fuck me harder, please, I need it harder.” you beg, hoping to convince him to finger you to completion. Despite your request, Jungkook stops thrusting completely, opting to curl his fingers and rubbing softly against your g-spot while grinding the heel of his palm just off center from your pulsing clit. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his gaze on your visage committing your whining and fucked out expression to memory. You’re being uncharacteristically pliant for him tonight- a change that he is very much enjoying. He files it under ‘spank bank material’ for when Beyond ultimately goes back on tour.

“Please, baby, make me cum. I’m so close.” you try one last time. You’re panting and desperate for release.

“You’re not cumming tonight unless it’s on my cock,” he grits out. His fingers stay hooked inside you, caressing at your sensitive front wall. Jungkook’s mouth returns to suckling at your pebbled bud and he slowly fucks you open with his fingers. Your cunt quivers and leaks with your arousal, but without the thrusting or clitoral stimulation, you won’t be cumming anytime soon.

“But how-” you glance down, not expecting his nearly fully erect cock. Pleasuring you had sparked his arousal again, the sounds of your approval and sight of your wet pussy glistening with desire has encouraged him back towards full mast. Licking your lips at his growing girth, you push his hand from your core to collect some of your personal lubricant. You wrap your slicked up fingers around his length jacking him to his full potential.

“Uunffff- ok, ok. Hold on,” he says, reaching out into your bedside table for lube. You hear Jungkook uncap the small bottle and are eager to feel him deep inside you. Quickly flipping onto your front, you prop yourself on your elbows and knees, presenting your husband with your sloppy, swollen cunt- a soundless request imploring him to fuck you from behind.

“I want to feel you deep,” you reason and unable to resist you, Jungkook agrees. Eyes glued to the way your crotchless panties have dampened with your cream, he spreads a generous glob of lube up and down his cock. He wipes the remainder against your labia and rubs some onto your clit making you mewl out for him. He wipes off the residue on your sheets. You’ll have to wash that later.

Taking a moment to admire his view, his hands caress over your hips and ass. “Are you ready?” Jungkook asks, always so considerate of your needs.

You nod and delirious with lust, you reach between your legs for him, sliding his bulbous tip up and down your slit before pushing your hips back to take him into your awaiting passage. Jungkook descends down creating a canopy with his body, sheltering you with the physical representation of his love. Jungkook’s hands find yours, lacing his calloused palms to the backs of your hands, fingers interlocking. With light pressure, he encourages you to lay your front down onto the bed. He nudges your knees further apart, propping you ass high in the air.

Positioned to his liking, he takes his first stroke into your eager cunt. Despite his diligent fingering, the fit is still tight, and you feel the initial pinch as he breaches you. You both release matching moans upon your coupling, and you already know you won’t last long after enduring Jungkook's extensive foreplay. He sets a slow pace plunging deep into your velvet heat.

“Harder, Kook, I’m already so close.” you puff into the sheets, turning your head as far as possible to watch your lover as he takes you from behind. “Please,” you rasp.

No longer denying your release, Jungkook thrusts faster, snapping his hips powerfully with the intent of getting you off. His cock hammers into you and you’re helpless underneath him to do anything but take it. He can already feel you tightening around him deliciously and lets go of one hand to reach down between your legs. With two fingers, Jungkook rubs tight circles around your clit while he continues to drill into your cunt which is just what you need to finally cum.

“Oh, fuck! Ah- ah-ah, Jungkook!” you chant. Your hands furiously grip the sheets trying to hold onto something to ground you as your high threatens to pull you under. Legs quaking and pussy fluttering around him, your walls contract rhythmically around his turgid length as he continues to rigorously fuck you through your orgasm.

Jungkook whines at the sensations gripping his cock, but pulls out of your spent heat to spare you from the sting of overstimulation. Any other night, he may have considered fucking you into a second orgasm, but tonight feels different. Tonight, he wants to make ardent love to you.

Without Jungkook’s strong frame to hold you up, you crumble limp against the bed. Your ears ring with the aftermath of a good round of fucking. It takes a second to register that he is speaking.

“Can you take more?” he asks. Confused, you look down and see that he’s still painfully hard. Oh. His erection is glossy with your juices, shining as it bobs between his well-muscled thighs.

“Fuck- yes,” you quickly consent to him.

Jungkook swiftly rolls you onto your back again and sits up on his knees between your spread thighs. “I love you in these, but I want to see all of you,” he rasps, tugging at your ruined panties and pulling them off while his eyes stay glued on your saturated folds. Climbing back up your body, he spreads your legs wider and leans forward bringing his cock to your core. You look down to watch him steadily thrust his length against your slit, bumping against your clit on the upstrokes.

Wanting to draw out his teasing, he grips his slickened base and slaps his dick against your slippery folds. Each wet smack sends waves of electric pleasure through your system as Jungkook works you back up. “Just fuck me, baby. I’m ready.” you insist. Your gaze trails up, meeting his heated stare.

“I want you to keep your eyes on me when I make love to you,” he says, voice dropping an octave. When you nod in understanding, he catches his tip against your entrance and pushes back into your ripe, warm cunt. Your legs immediately wrap around his trim waist pulling him closer and encouraging him to brace the weight of his upper body on his hands. Your ankles interlock against the base of his spine to bring him deeper.

Jungkook starts with long, slow strokes, pulling nearly all the way out of you before feeding his cock back into your sopping pussy. Going slow enough for you to feel every ridge of his throbbing length, he impales you over and over.

Your back arches in pleasure and you have to fight to keep your eyes open for him. Wanting him closer, you greedily reach your hands up to pull him down closer to you, forcing him to drop to his elbows as he continues to give it to you slow and deep.

Jungkook braces on his forearms and cradles your head. He tilts your chin up to align with his intense gaze as he continues to plow into you. Brow furrowed and eyes locked, your husband watches your dazed and needy expressions while his body and mind make love to yours.

He’s always so good to you. Devoted and adoring. You’re suddenly struck with the reminder that this beautiful man is yours. Always has been. Always will be. And tonight is a good time to remind Jungkook how deeply you love him. A fear of commitment used to hold you back, but he peeled back your layers and showed you that love didn’t have to hurt. You haven’t been afraid since. Jungkook has the whole of your heart.

“How did I get so lucky?” you say, reaching up to caress his jaw as he continues to thrust into your depths. “I’m sorry I lost sight of us,” you stutter trying to sound coherent as your husband diligently sinks his thickness into you again and again. “I never meant for you to feel-”

“- I know. And I’m sorry I didn’t communicate better, I just- I’m working on it,” Jungkook cuts you off. He knows this is a two way street.

“We don’t have to try anymore if you aren’t ready. Pull out and I’ll suck you off again” you offer. If Jungkook isn’t 100% in, you aren’t either.

“No, I want it. I’m ready for our love to create something beautiful and for everything that comes after that.”

You moan, eyes closing briefly, as Jungkook begins to pick up the pace. The increase in friction against your walls is quickly bringing you towards the edge again. An unexpectedly fierce pump of his hips has you gasping in delight.

“I said-,” Jungkook grunts with another sharp thrust, “-eyes on me, baby.” You pry your eyes open, surprised by his display of dominance and try not to squeal.

Jungkook reaches one hand down to tilt your pelvis back further and you lock your legs up higher on his frame allowing him to shove a pillow under your ass. The new position brings your clit directly under his pubic bone. When he slams back down to stuff you full, he grinds deliciously against you, making you nearly scream out in ecstasy.

“I love you,” you whisper in earnest. “I love you so much,” you moan as Jungkook begins to pound you into the sheets. You’re both quickly unraveling, approaching another high, bodies tingling with impending release. When your thighs begin shaking around him for the second time tonight, he picks up the pace filling the room with a symphony of your euphoria.

Breaking your eye contact briefly, Jungkook looks down at the juncture of your connection and is enthralled by the visual- his cock coming out foamy with your cream and slamming back into your weeping pussy. Groaning, he suddenly feels the sharp sting of your nails raking down his back as you’re overcome with pleasure.

“Come on, babe. Cum on my fucking cock,” Jungkook grunts, urging you towards completion. With your hips canted deliciously, he continues to ram directly against your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, it’s so good. I’m so close,” you babble, feeling Jungkook push deeper against you to stimulate your pulsing clit. Hands clutching your husband and thighs trembling, your eyes slip closed as you finally succumb to his endeavors. You cum with a silent scream, head tilted back and throat exposed as your walls spasm uncontrollably. The wild contracting of your pussy squeezing his cock triggers Jungkook’s own release. His length throbs desperately within your walls as you coax him towards his end.

“Ahh, I- I’m holy shit- I’m cumming, too” Jungkook whines as he climaxes with breathy whimpers, exploding as he fills you with streams of his ejaculate. He thrusts as deep as he can get while his length continues to spurt inside you, shallowly rutting to ride out his high.

Panting, he collapses his weight into your waiting arms. “Oof,” you grunt as you feel your husband’s sweaty and spent body pin you against the bed. You let him rest against you for a while, content to feel the warm fullness of his cock and spunk nestled deep inside you.

“Can I stay inside?” he asks shyly. “I just wanna hold you.” You smile and Jungkook holds you close and carefully rolls under you so you can comfortably lay against him. With his arms wound around your waist and your thighs spread wide with his dick sheathed inside you, he ensures maximal skin contact.

Seeing his blissed out face, you giggle as the two of you revel in your post-coital afterglow. His spent length slowly softens letting some of his cum leak from your used hole onto him and the sheets below. You’re definitely going to have to wash these.

Your fingers find their way into his hair, scratching along his scalp and pushing back his long locks to expose the sexy undercut hiding beneath. Jungkook’s eyes are still closed, but he still leans his face forward knowing you’ll meet his lips with your own. The two of you make out for a little longer, savoring the intimacy shared in your little bubble.

Jungkook clings to you, preening at your gentle caress and basking in his favorite form of aftercare. Your cunt is runny with lube and your combined releases, but you’re too content to lay with Jungkook in your arms to clean up just yet. You lie wrapped around each other for a few more minutes, mindlessly kissing at his face and neck, whispering praises for his performance.

It’s quiet for a long moment, and assuming he must have fallen asleep as he tends to do after a vigorous round of love making, you attempt to unwind your limbs from his. Grumbling, he tightens his hold around you, preventing you from getting far.

“Jungkook,” you warn with a laugh, “I have to get cleaned up.”

“Mmm not yet, hold me a little longer” he requests as he burrows deeper in your embrace.

Sighing, you relent, slowly dozing off with your husband in your arms.

_______________________________________________

When you wake, you find that you've shifted in your slumber. Jungkook's chest is plastered to your back and he has an arm slung over your waist with a hand curled around one of your tits. The mess between your legs has dried making you cringe when you move to get up. Leaving Jungkook who is slowly stirring, you go to the bathroom to shower.

You step under the spray and let the warm water relax you while you clean off the sweat and unholy mix of bodily fluids from between your thighs. You hum along to the new Beyond the Scene single and sing some of the chorus that you can remember. You exit the shower, wrapping a towel securely around you and return to rouse your sleeping husband.

You find that Jungkook is already awake and sitting against the headboard. “You know, I hope our kid doesn’t inherit your singing voice,” Jungkook cackles, cutting through the silence.

"Why you-," you gasp, tackling him down into the sheets and laughing along with him. You pin him down and pinch at his nipple in retaliation. It’s not long before he’s pulling the towel from your body and rolling you under him to latch his mouth to your cunt. Before the night is over, he delivers another two orgasms and a fresh load. After all, practice makes perfect.

#Jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #jjk x reader #drummer jungkook au #husband au

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