#music is subjective and my head understands this but sometimes it just annoys me seeing people shit on bb’s music lmao

[akkivee]

i hate it when people gas up posse and bat’s discography and then throw in bb needs to change up their sound as if posse doesn’t have 3 bubblegum pop songs rebranded and bat doesn’t have 3 spoopy songs of the same vibe 😤

[nartml]

My little brother

When I meet people without siblings I can't help but wonder whether they're lonely. And when they tell me that they aren’t, I'm always a bit surprised. I suppose I can understand it, but I can't say I truly get it. When I try to imagine myself in their shoes, I find that it's not exactly impossible, but it’s a very close thing.

My little brother is the most annoying person in this universe; but he really isn't. My little brother is the silliest person in this universe; but he really isn't. My little brother is the smartest person in this universe; but he really isn't. My little brother is the center of this universe.

But he really isn't.

He's only the center of mine.

He's so sensitive, and his eyes well up with tears when he's irritated, and he can be so whiney and picky, and he normally refuses to sit still, but as he climbs down the ladder of our bunk bed when he's freshly awake and groggy, he becomes adorably pliant.

My little brother thinks he's funny, but really, he only repeated something cool that I just said minutes or seconds ago. I swear his eyes sparkle when they see me, but he greets me with an insult that reminds me he's nine years old.

I almost said eight, but he hasn't been eight for a little while now and I find there's something terribly sad about that. He'll be ten years old next year, and I'll be pushing seventeen. I hate that as much as I look forward to it.

My little brother isn't old enough to want to listen to music during car rides, but he's old enough to discuss his current concerns about the state of the world with me, meticulously listening when I tell him that nothing is black and white, fixing the economy isn't as simple as becoming president and investing in new industries, and that he shouldn't be calling ancient Greek a useless subject just because everyone else is doing it.

I hate ancient Greek, but that’s because I find it tedious, not useless.

There's a difference, and it's important to me that he can think critically about these things.

My little brother is a uniquely clever person, and my conversations with him are routinely more stimulating than the ones I have with people my age.

My little brother is a curious thing, and he loves helping our grandpa in the dingy workshop situated directly underneath our grandparents’ house at our village. He spends most of his summer there, exhaustingly sweltering days stretching out endlessly, while he helps repair trucks and sucks in every scrap of information on farming with that brilliant sponge-like brain of his.

My little brother and I share a room. A room that has been ours for way longer than it ever was just my own. There's a desk next to mine, and it's hopelessly messy. The Ikea metal drawers I put together fit snugly under it. The closet doesn't have enough room for two people's clothes, so I have to put mine in boxes under my bed.

He's young, so we both have to go to bed early. He's always restless, so the bunk shakes as he tosses and turns, and I often snap at him to quit it. It's never completely dark, because I like it when light slips in from the small gap created by blinds not thoroughly closed, so I can see it clearly when he pokes his head out just enough to stick his tongue out at me.

And even though he prefers spending his day in the living room, he always gets smug when we argue about my leaving stuff on the desk that he rarely uses.

"This is my side of the room, Sia."

"And why should I care? You haven't used your side of the room in two months, you moron."

Honestly.

My little brother gets on my nerves, and sometimes I think about another me, in a universe where I haven't she hasn't met him, if only to picture the life of someone who doesn't have a built-in buddy to smack upright the head.

I hate my room in that universe.

I don't think the other me would really get it.

[teenz-stories]

Teen-Z: Forever Young #5: Failure To Success! (Part 5)

Scene changes  into Cassandra and Creepy entering to boogeyman’s female home. The walls of her home are painted dark purple. There’s many posters of horror movies on the walls. Finally they get upstairs to her room. Her bedroom’s walls are painted same way as the hall. There can be seen bed what’s similiar to coffin. Creepy feels uncomfortable with that but she notices slime ingredients and she relaxes a bit.

Cassandra: sarcastically ... I absolutely still want to be your friend. When I am lonely as hell, I twirl my bracelet. Like that moment we spoke because I needed to wake that stupid idiot up. She eyerolls Do you understand how sometimes dumb it gets? You ask it for useful informations and it replies sweet nothing.

Ninelle: looks at Cassandra’s bracelet Must be broken? Can I try?

Cassandra: Sure! Just don’t damage it.

Creepy gently twirls Cassandra’s bracelet. It looks at Creepy with terror in its eyes.

Bracelet: petrified Run. Please for everyone’s good,run!

Ninelle: confused after Cassandra covers its mouth What did it meant?

Cassandra: It’s indeed broken. She takes her bracelet off We’re going to sleep.

Bracelet: scared But I’m not...!

Cassandra: opens the box as she puts bracelet in her box while she whispers angry Then I don’t know. Do whatever you want but you stay here untill morning. Can’t let you ruin my plans.

She closes her box as she sighs sitting on her bed exhausted.

Cassandra: I can’t believe,one bracelet and it’s being such an embarrassment that I can’t even show with it to public. That’s a bit pathetic.

Ninelle: silently nods

Cassandra: makes some space so Creepy can sit So. Tell me a bit about yourself.

Creepy only blinks confused. Cassandra thinks to herself that this starts a bit pathetic as she starts with telling about herself.

Cassandra: You know. I was a student once of Sky Academy. I remember that one day when three annoying girls came with speaker and started playing annoying rap music.

Ninelle: shyly And?

Cassandra: I was in the middle of she thinks of a lie and then speaks Studying! And these brats ruined my plans. At first I thought I would play the victim and say „I am Cassandra and you are too loud” and think of random excuse to make them leave. But. I am not like that. You see. I used to be a bully in the Amethyst High. That was why I gotten expelled from it in first place. So instead of playing victim. I broke the speaker on some ugly witch’s head and I told rest that they will mess with me again and they will strongly regret this. In fact. They did messed with me again. And I played a silly prank on them. That nymph with glasses was so funny with these eggs all over her face.

Ninelle: swallows her saliva I don’t like the direction where this conversation goes...

Cassandra: ignores Creepy Now here is advice from me.  If you want to be a doormat,be my guest. But if you wanna show who rules. Don’t show any weakness. Otherwise you may end up as laughing stock. Don’t be kind,don’t be weak. Show everyone there exist bigger fish in the food chain.

Creepy looks scared at Cassandra. Boogeyman female quickly changes subject while she smiles.

Cassandra: But you don’t need to be afraid that I will do something to you. You showed me kindness so I will return the favor. In fact. I need to ask you something. On Friday there’s ballet test and I need to prepare.

Ninelle: What do I have to do with it?

Cassandra: Here is my question. Can you help me to prepare to it?

Ninelle: scratches her head I don’t know. My body parts fall apart. Plus I’m not amazing dancer.

Cassandra: I’m not neither. But I need partner to help me with preparation.

Scene change into already test day. Mermaid whispers happily to Greeny.

Mermaid: You’ll got this!

Sue-Nami (offscreen): Camilla! You’re up!

Mermaid: winks at Greeny as she goes to the stage

Greeny watches how flawlessly Mermaid moves and she gets jealous. Meanwhile a shadow lurks checking how it can ruin Greeny’s performance. Meanwhile Mermaid gets off the stage. Mermaid pats Greeny’s back.

Mermaid: You’ll be okay! We practiced this!

Sue-Nami: Daphne Jewel. You’re up.

Greeny gets on the stage. She tries to recreate the moves Camilla did. But then shadow gets on the stage and giggles evily to Greeny. Shadow whispers something in gibberish as quickly scene turns into ice. Greeny loses balance and falls onto desk where Carlos was talking with Demiloon. Greeny whimpers in pain.

Carlos: looks worried at Greeny You’re okay,Daphne?

Greeny: stands up sighing Yeah. I didn’t broke anything.

Demiloon: Maybe I should take you to the nurse?

Greeny: grunts No. I’m fine.

Scene changes into Sue-Nami and Brav already hanging results of the test on the wall in the hall.

Brav: looks at Greeny’s „F” Aren’t you being a bit too rough,Sue? I think she deserved at least D-.

Sue-Nami: looks at judging stare at Brav No,Brav. Absolutely not! I teach in this school already 56 years. I never seen something this terrible in my entire life.

Brav: Maybe she was too stressed? You know how stress affects peoples. Besides. He smirks It’s not like you were perfect when I started to teach here 15 years ago.

Sue-Nami: Fact that I am older than Demiloon doesn’t mean anything.

Demiloon passes by just exactly hearing teachers talk about her. Witch woman stares confused at Brav and Sue-Nami.

Demiloon: hisses You’re having some weird grudge against me.

Sue-Nami: Because you started it two years ago.

Carlos (offscreen): Please,calm down. You’re giving our students bad example.

Sue-Nami: hisses angry at Demiloon Old witch.

Demiloon: smirks I am only a year younger than you. Plus fact that me and Brav tried to date a lot of times doesn’t mean you need to hold some grudge against me. You can try to hit on Carlos or Foxer. She laughs Oh right. I forgot. Foxer wouldn’t even want...

Brav: gulps Girls. You start to act like our students.

[anna1306]

Hello, can you please, please do a Dwayne tlb "if anybody were to kiss me, I would like that person to be you?".

Happy holidays, and thanks for your writing.

Prompts here

Saviour

Dwayne x Reader

The bar was loud. You weren't a fan of this kind of places, but still went here with your friend. It's not like you hated this, no, just... That wasn't your type of place. You preferred quiet cafes or walks with some snacks along the beach.

But your friend Jay asked to go out with him, so you agreed to it. And what a coincidence was to see Dwayne with his friends at one of the tables. He looked equally disinterested in what was going on around, so you exchanged understanding looks.

You both knew each other for a while. And strangely enough you both met on the Boardwalk. It was strange because both of you didn't particularly like noise and lot of drunken people. But his friends liked it and he couldn't leave them alone or else... The meaningful silence after his words made you giggle. You, on the other hand, just wanted to unwind a little bit, so you went to the lights, music and smell of alcohol, fire and sweets.

You were friends. At least you hoped that he considered you a friend, not just annoying person who always rant about things you don't like in books or anything like that. Dwayne liked talking about books, films, but more so he liked to listen you talking about your day or annoying student you met. You really hoped you didn't appear that annoying to him. As... Of course you fell in love with him. Come on, he was cute, hot, his voice was beautiful to say the least. More so, he listened, he supported you, he was kind to you. It was a man from the dream. And you weren't sure if there was really something or you were imagining things.

"Are you even listening?" Jay touched your hand, and you shivered, looking at him. You smiled apologetically.

"Sorry. Got lost in thoughts." You sighed and took a sip from your glass. You ordered one of several non-alcoholic drinks, as you weren't really a fan of drink yourself away. He scoffed.

"I can see that. But you came here with me, not that dude, so be a friend, pay some attention to me." He sounded a bit... Angry at you? No, not the right word. Pissed off would fit more.

"There's no need to be so cranky about that. He's just my friend, we waved to each other. I know that I came here with you." You took your hand out of his grip and rolled your eyes. Jay was quick to put his hand on top of yours once again.

"Sorry. Just... Stressful day and I thought that we both can relax here, you know? And suddenly you all concentrated on him and not me, so I acted out. Sorry, I didn't mean it." Jay looked at you almost sincerely and you believed him. Almost. Maybe it was hard day.

"Don't worry." You smiled and drank again from the glass. You thought something was off, but you couldn't pinpoint what exactly.

"You sure you don't want alcohol? There are tons of good choices here." He motioned to the bar behind the bartender, but you shook your head.

"No, I'm good. So, what did you tell me about that new movie?" It was better to just change the subject, than to explain to him that you don't like a felling of being drunk. Or telling him about your strange feelings on something being off. And especially about your thoughts on Dwayne, who could find himself anyone in this bar.

"Ah, that one... I thought we could go to movie if you would like. It's horror one, but I think you'll like it and besides I will be near you to calm you down if anything." Jay laughed, watching you. You shrugged.

"Why not, just... Let's go maybe on weekends." You offered. It was Tuesday, and he was too much sometimes, you wanted some days off from him.

You discussed this movie, the details of your next meeting and study overall. He was fine, just a little too much sometimes. You weren't against it, he had been your friend for couple years now. He was weird with his words or actions sometimes, but... Who wasn't?

Your thoughts became slower, as if you felt a bit tired. Strange, you didn't drink anything and still were a bit lightheaded. Jay leaned closer to you.

"You're alright?"

"A bit... Lightheaded, can't understand why." You smiled weakly and tried to sit more straight. Your head was spinning a bit, and your vision was blurred a little. Jay put a hand on your shoulder, helping you stand up. When did he stand up?

"Let's go and breath a bit, alright?" He lead you to the back exit, slowly and carefully. "There are a lot of lights in the front, you'll get worse." He reassured, answering your silent question. You looked at him tiredly, and your eyes slid to Dwayne. Was it your imagination or was he really frowning?..

You stumbled into the back alley and you stopped, putting a hand on the wall. Jay was close, maybe too close for your liking.

"Can you give me some... Room?" You asked quietly, weakly grabbing his shoulder. He scoffed, standing at the same spot.

"And what if you would fall down? No, I have to support you like a good friend." Jay stayed at the same place, almost locking you from the exit with his body. You sighed and turned to the noise of the street. It was too loud, but at least there was air.

"Let's go there, please..." You asked and made couple of steps, when Jay stopped you.

"There is noise, there is lights, you would feel worse, believe me." You furrowed your brows, trying to see his face more clearly. His actions made no sense to you.

"Why are you stopping me? I want to breath, there is some fresh air..."

"You don't need any of that, I will help you..." You didn't like the situation, but he was stronger than you right now.

"The hell is wrong with you?" Jay put his other hand on your waist, trying to keep you in standing position and pressed right to him.

"There is nothing wrong with me, but you... Oh, you are really blind." He scowled and in your blurred vision it looked bizzare and weird. Creepy even. "No matter how hard I try, you are still playing fucking hard-to get. Not today, sweety."

"You mixed something in my drink..." That explained your condition now. Your head was spinning, all you wanted to do - sit and do nothing and let that heaviness on your shoulders just be there. You weren't sure what would help you now. And all of this because of your so-called friend. "What a bitch you are..."

"How can you blame me really? You needed to see me more than a friend, and the only way for you to finally look at me and notice... Me! Not some garbage boy from the dumpster was this." He was angry, you could tell from his tone of voice. But that wasn't of your concern. If he wouldn't do anything to help you, you probably wouldn't be concerned at nothing at all ever again.

"Jay... Please... I can't really breathe." You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to keep him at least at an arm length.

"Oh stop it, it should just cloud your mind, not kill you." He rolled his eyes and pushed you into the wall, pressing himself into you and leaned closer to your face. You smelled alcohol and nearly held yourself from puking, it was overwhelming to your senses.

"They said they can't breathe." Something, or rather someone really strong tugged Jay from you. The next second you heard a loud crush sound. Without any support you fell down, but now it was even better, as noone pressed the air out of your lungs. Even though your vision was blurred, you saw black jacket with some wild cat.

"Dwayne..." You breathed out and smiled weakly. He threw a worried glance at you, but looked back at Jay pretty quickly. You saw him stepping up to your ex-friend, but didn't hear a thing he said to him. Only noticed how Jay's figure ran away at a very quick speed, as if he suddenly got scared. You felt cold palms against your flushed face and moaned quietly at pleasing contrast, slowly coming to your senses.

"Hush, princex, I'm here. Tell me, what are you feeling? What do you need, water, air?" You shook your head slowly and winced from the pain shooting through your temples.

"I don't know, really... Sorry for troubling you..." Dwayne scoffed at that and touched your forehead as if trying to understand how you feel and if there was any raising temperature.

"You didn't. I was worried he would do... Something to you." The brunette admitted and for a split second his grip on your face tightened.

"Like a kiss?"

"I guess worse than that. But... You can count kiss as one of the things he would do..." Dwayne shrugged and you let out a tired laugh. He was your safe place. The man you knew you could trust. He wouldn't do anything to you, especially something like this.

"Thanks... You know... If anybody were to kiss me, I would like that to be you..." You almost whispered that tiredly, not sure if he heard you or not. Your mind were slowly drifting away, the effect of that drug Jay gave you, getting stronger even if you felt better and not so sick like minutes ago. But by the looks of it, Dwayne wasn't gonna leave you alone, as you felt him taking you in his hands and standing up.

"I would like to talk about it with you, when you wake up." You smiled, snuggling into his chest. Yes, he was very strangely cold, and you felt very strong wind, that you hadn't felt in the streets ever, but it was alright. At least you could trust him. You were safe. And maybe. Just maybe. He was into you too. He didn't refuse to kiss you, after all.

The Lost Boys Taglist: @minafromasgard @starmullet @iloveslasher @twistedharper @ichorixm @promptsforstuff @collieflower215 @henhouse-horrors @smenny @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - I bet i love you

Gif if not mine, but i swear she looks prettier every time i look at her.

Summary: Prompt based from @ecruzsalaz: The one where Wanda is popular, and Reader is a nerd. The popular kids do a bet that Reader will fall in love with Wanda. Everything will be reveal after their trip. 

Warnings: Light angst, kissing, teasing, underage drinking, lies, Vision being an idiot completely out of canon.

Words:  13.446 k /// Read on AO3

Notes: I don’t even know what happen here. I’m been busy and this took a lot of days to be done, but it’s finally here, hope @ecruzsalaz will be satisfied haha. Good reading everyone and apologies for any typo, it sucks to translate so many words. There are a few pop culture references, i wonder if anyone will catch those.

Marks (if i forgot your name tell me i’m lost):  @mionemymind @abimess

In your last year of high school, you just wish things would be peaceful.

The previous years hadn't exactly been ideal, since you were surrounded by assholes, but you are optimistic.

Your small, select group of friends, consisting of exactly two people, who you could swear were probably the only decent human beings left in West View High School, were currently the only reason you still wanted to go to high school.

Right now, for example, you were sitting in the outer cafeteria, a book of historical fiction to escape reality plus headphones with some old rock music that you weren't really listening to, since you were so focused on the story you were reading. And then someone pulled on your headphones, and you looked up ready to complain, but the mischievous smile of your best friend Bruce Banner was all you could find.

- I've been calling you for five minutes. - He said, sitting down on the stool in front of you. You smiled, apologizing, and put your cell phone on the table. - No problem, you always do that.

You laughed awkwardly, closing the book while Bruce put his backpack on the table.

- Where is Mon? I haven't seen her today. - You tell him, but Bruce shrugs. 

- Maybe her mother changed shifts again. - He comments, and you make a noise with your mouth of agreement. Whenever Maria, your friend Monica's mother, switched shifts at work, she would be late for first periods. It has been like this since primary school.

- You still haven't let me see your schedule. - You told Bruce with a slight frown, and he laughed, going through his pockets. Then he took out his cell phone, fiddled with the screen for a few seconds, and then handed it to you. You read the attached class schedule with a frown. - Bruce! You didn't sign up for half the classes you took last year?

He shrugged, running his hands through his hair.

- Yeah, I think I'll focus more on what I want for college. - He explained a little shyly. - I was getting too anxious about all that stuff. And honestly, you should have done the same.

You made a grumbling sound with your mouth, and started biting your thumbnail as you finished looking at the schedule. You would barely have any classes together. And then you handed the cell phone back to your friend.

- I would do it if I had any idea what I wanted to major in. - You tell him. - It's better to have several interests on the curriculum, so I'll have more course options.

- You can also develop burnot. - He remarked with mild irony, and you laughed, looking away.

The bell for the first class then rang, and the two of you exchanged a look before getting up. Bruce kissed you on the cheek before heading in the opposite direction, and you grumbled lightly as you picked up your book and walked to the chemistry labs.

In the hallway of the main building, a few meters before the entrance to the lab, someone bumped into you. It was one of the boys from the team, who was laughing at something his colleague said. Your notebooks fell to the floor, and the boy looked at you with contempt.

- Watch where you're going weirdo. - He warned and you rolled your eyes.

- You're the one who bumped into me, you brute. - You grumbled angrily. The boy just laughed and walked away.

After picking your books, you stood up. The athletes at your school were jerks, but you didn't blame only them for their arrogance. The rest of the school, including the faculty, treated them as gods, so they behaved as such.

Sighing with impatience, you entered the chemistry labs, wishing that the day wasn't long.

Darcy Lewis had been your chemistry partner for three years. You smiled as you greeted her and sat down next to her. You were not friends, but she was very kind and extremely intelligent. You really thought you were very lucky to have her as your partner, and then, as if the universe would like to laugh at you, Professor Nakia announced that she was switching partners.

The whole class let out a chorus of dissatisfaction, and one student asked aloud.

- Please, Professor Nakia, we have been working with the same people for three years. Why change now?

- Excellent question, Miss Quinn. - Nakia said, smiling. She was at her desk, finishing putting her materials on top. - Three years is more than enough time for you to create tricks to cheat on my exams. 

The room exchanged complicit and guilty looks, and the teacher kept a serious posture.

- The school board found evidence to indicate this. - She explains. - I was very disappointed to learn that there were students cheating on the evaluation method not only in this class, but in several others. You will notice that all teachers with fixed groups will rotate them from now on. This was a decision made by the principal.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed that you would lose your amazing partner and were running the chance of ending up with someone irresponsible or slacker, just because some kids were careless at cheating. The room let out a chorus of understanding, and everyone began to move around as the teacher indicated the new groups. You ended up sitting with a guy named Vision, who you didn't really know, but you knew was quite popular because he was class speaker, and head of the fencing club.

- Hello, dear. - He greeted you as he sat down, putting his coat on the chair. Vision dressed very well; he was part of the group your classmates called "preps”, even if he was usually hanging out with jocks.

You made a noise with your mouth in greeting, but he didn't seem to mind your lack of sociability. 

Fortunately, Vision was a decent chemistry partner. Although he was bossy, and had a habit of interrupting or explaining as if you were stupid, he was intelligent and knew how to do the experiments. You thought that was enough, since you would only have to put up with him in this class.

Feeling a glance at you, you raised your eyes from the notebook, and were slightly startled to notice Vision looking at you with amusement and curiosity, you frowned ready to ask what's wrong, but then he let out a dry laugh.

- I knew I knew you! - he declared. - You're the Presley freak!

Vision laughed lightly nostalgically, and you felt your face flush, turning your attention back to your notebook. He was talking about the Halloween party in freshman year, where you dressed up as Elvis Presley and the track team decided to nickname you "Presley Freak" for the next whole year. The teasing died down after a while, but Vision brought it back as if it were a good memory.

Fortunately he just shook his head with amusement, and didn't mention it again. When class was over, he didn't say goodbye on his way out, but you didn't care.

//-//

The story that all the teachers followed the new norm of switching partners was true. In History, you lost your partner Bucky Barnes to sit with Natasha Romanoff, equally quiet and intelligent. For the most part, you are satisfied with the partners you got. 

But then in fourth period, biology class, you ended up partnering with someone you never imagined.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the most popular girls in school. You didn't really know her. You were classmates during elementary school, and you even became friends with her twin brother in elementary school, Pietro Maximoff, before he became a complete idiot. But other than that, you didn't know much about her. Although you had a strange sympathy for the girl. Unlike the group of girls she hung out with, Wanda never tormented you at school. Or your friends. She was probably fake and sneaky like the others, but she left you alone, so you had nothing against her.

You were pulling your biology book out of your backpack as the teacher announced the new pairs, and you stopped in mid-motion when she said Maximoff and your name.

Wanda sat down beside you the next moment, smiling politely. You shook your head slightly, dropping your backpack on the floor.

Wanda was surprisingly nice. You didn't talk about anything unrelated to the subject, but she was quick enough to catch your ironic glances when Professor Darkholme made an inappropriate comment or a funny remark, and match it with a smile or a look. 

As the class came to an end, Wanda nodded slightly at you, and you smiled back before gathering your materials.

It had been four months since classes had started, and you were already used to your new partners in class. 

Vision was inconvenient in many comments, as if he took pleasure in recalling your most embarrassing moments in high school, but you learned to change the subject quickly whenever this happened. All you had to do was pretend you didn't know about some subject he mastered, only to hear him explain it to you in the most arrogant manner possible for the next few minutes, effectively distracting him.

Natasha Romanoff was exceptionally sarcastic and ironic, and you sometimes you felt that she was a more aggressive female version of your former partner Bucky Barnes. She was quite individualistic, and you had to make an effort not to get left behind, or you had to constantly remind her that you were a duo, but otherwise she was a good partner, and you were happy to invite her to lunch with you, which eventually became a habit after a week.

And then you had Wanda Maximoff. You weren't friends, but you had a strange kind of complicity as biology partners. You never would have guessed that Wanda would have a sense of humor so similar to yours. Two classes in a row, and you already had inside jokes about the way Ms. Darkholme caught the attention of her students. Two weeks in, and you two knew how to cheat your way through assignments. You didn't know how to make friends, and judging by the history of who Wanda was hanging out with, you had the impression that she wouldn't want to develop any kind of relationship with you. And honestly, this was your last year, you wouldn't see these people again, so you were more than satisfied to have just one good lab partner.

With the mid-winter vacations approaching, you were looking forward to getting some rest.

Non-Reader Pov

- God, Wanda, why are you talking about that weirdo again? - interrupted Vision impatiently. His girlfriend blinked in confusion, looking away awkwardly.

- I'm just commenting on a joke we…

- Really, Wanda? - He interrupted again with an accusing look. - It seems like all you do lately is "comment" on your little jokes in class. - He sneers as he settles down on the sofa. The two of them stand together outside the school, their group of friends watching the discussion with amusement. - I don't know why you talk to her at all. She is so silent and awkward with me in chemistry class.

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, looking forward. 

- I think your girlfriend has a girl crush. - Tony Stark sneered next, making everyone laugh. Wanda frowned, feeling her heart race.

- You are an idiot. - She grumbled impatiently, crossing her arms. Vision looked at her curiously.

- Honey, don't tell me that you actually appreciate that girl? - he asks ironically, and Wanda rolls her eyes without looking at him. Vision laughs. 

And then Tony is holding out a craft-paper covered bottle to Vision, and he takes a sip, coughing slightly afterwards. Wanda frowns at the scene, but none of her friends seem concerned that they are drinking during school hours, as the bottle continues to pass in everyone's hand.

- You know, I think it's sweet that you have sympathy for that freak. - Tony comments a moment later and Wanda tells him to fuck off, making him laugh. 

- I think we are witnessing a beautiful love story. - Mocks Pepper, Tony's girlfriend, approaching the three of them as she sits on Stark's lap. Wanda rolls her eyes, as the group laughs. And then Vision has a thoughtful expression.

- I have an idea. - He says slightly drunk, as he throws his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. - Let's make a bet.

Tony and Pepper let out excited exclamations, while Wanda frowns.

- What kind of bet?

- Well, you guys remember when the weirdo dressed up as Presley for Halloween, right? - he asked, and Tony and Pepper laughed, agreeing. - And then Pietro saw her kissing that girl who hang with the bikers, Jones something.

- Jessica. - Pepper clarified before taking another sip of her drink. 

- Then we know she's a dyke. - Vision says, but Tony frowns.

- Wasn't she dating that guy with the long hair and the angry face? 

- Barnes? - Vision asked and Tony nodded. - I don't think so. Anyway, she is into girls. - he said and the group nodded in agreement. - I mean the bet is this: I can prove that she is just like everyone else in this school. Give her a bit of our attention, and she will be completely obsessed.

- Vis, what are you talking about? - Wanda asked, and Vision laughed ironically.

- It's very simple, love. - He says. - You are hot. Everyone knows that, and even someone like her, who pretends not to be part of the social circles of this school, can see that. - He clarifies, and the group looks at him intently. Wanda doesn't say that she doesn't like being objectified, swallowing the bitter feeling in her stomach. - So my bet is that you win her over. It should take what, one or two dates for her to be completely in love with you.

The friends laugh in irony and Wanda thinks she should follow, but only a forced laugh escapes. Because of the alcohol, no one notices.

- This is ridiculous. - Wanda comments and then Vision looks at her with irony.

- Unless you're getting attached to the girl, dear. - He sneers, and the group laughs. Wanda swallows dryly, shaking her head in denial. - So, what's the problem? You'll just prove me right. And you will realize that there is nothing special about her. 

- I think we can make this even more fun. - says Tony with a wicked smile. - I bet you a hundred bucks that Wanda will fall in love too.

Tony sneers and the group laughs with irony.

- As if anyone would even like that girl. - Vision declares, accepting another drink. 

- How do we make sure it's working? - Tony asks and Vision bites his lip thoughtfully. Then he lets out an exclamation.

- Our trip! - he says, and then turns to Wanda. - Love, invite the weirdo to the cabin! We can watch you work.

Wanda frowns, but then the group is suggesting ideas of conquest, and laughing, and debauchery, and she hates it. But she smiles, and nods in agreement, accepting the liquor as the bottle comes into her hand.

Reader Pov

You intended to study during the winter vacations. And maybe get out of the room a little if Bruce or Monica visited. Your surprise was genuine when in your last biology term, Wanda Maximoff started talking to you about something other than the subject.

- Hey, are you doing anything this holiday? - she comments amiably. You didn't notice the looks Tony Stark was giving you two from the front seat. 

- Huh... No?

- Are you asking me? - She replies with a smile. You blush, looking away at your notebook. Wanda bites her cheek, and it takes a moment for her to speak again. - I wanted to invite you to something.

You blink in surprise, looking at Wanda. She looks away from the board for a moment, as she wiggles her fingers against her own thigh.

- My friends and I are spending the holiday in a cabin. - She clarifies. - There's all this winter activities, you know. Skiing and stuff like that. I'd like you to come.

- Why? - The question slips out a little harshly, but you can't help it. Wanda looks away, and you almost apologize. But then Wanda smiles, shrugging.

- I'd like to get to know you better, I guess. - She says. - I think it would be fun if we could be friends outside of class.

You look at her suspiciously for a few seconds. But then you sigh, looking down at the notebooks.

- Alright, Wanda. - you say after a moment, ignoring the growing anxiety in your stomach. - Is it okay if I bring a friend?

- Of course! - She confirms excitedly. - You can take whoever you want, it's a big place. 

The teacher gives a warning for side conversations next, and you shut up. You blush when Wanda approaches you to write down her phone number in her notebook. You are distracted enough not to notice her blushing slightly when Tony Stark gives her a mischievous look. 

//-//

- So you actually said yes? - Bruce asked with surprise when you told him about the biology class, while you were having lunch together in the cafeteria. Monica had the same expression.

- Yes, and I would love it if you would go with me, because I think I am close to completely freak out. - You ask with mild desperation and your friends laugh. And then Monica is looking behind you.

- Look, I would be too. They are so... - She starts and you turn around, looking at the group of Wanda's friends a few meters away. The kids are sitting at the table, making noise with their loud laughter. One of them was throwing a football up in the air. A short boy walked past them and was pushed slightly. - I can't even define them.

You let out a grumble, laying your head on your arms on the table.

- This was a bad idea, wasn't it, guys? - you ask. - They're going to eat me alive.

- Why the long faces, nerds? - Natasha asked as she came over to the table, placing the tray of food next to Monica, staring at you. 

And then your friends explained it to her, and you groaned in dissatisfaction when she started laughing.

- You've lost your mind, haven't you? - she asked wryly. - It's a trap, I'm sure.

- There's no reason for it. - You retorted, trying to eat a little. - Besides, it was Wanda who invited me. She said she'd like us to be friends.

- Look, I know that Maximoff is the least worst of the bunch. - Nat began as she opened her soda. - But she still hangs around with those idiots. 

- Yeah, I know. - You agree with a sigh. And then you remember your classes. - I just... She has been surprisingly nice, you know? I think she was being sincere. It's just a trip, it's not the end of the world.

- Good to know you think that. - said Bruce. - Because I won't be able to go.

- What? - You then exclaim.

- I applied for an internship at S.H.I.E.L.D. Labs. - He remarks and you let out a grumble, remembering.

- Shit, it's true. - You say. - I completely forgot about it.

- Girl, I can't go either. - Informs Monica with a guilty expression, and you let out an exclamation. - I'm going to spend the holiday with my father.

You bury your face in your hands. And then you risk a glance at Natasha, and she laughs wryly.

- Don't even try. - She says. - Even if you paid me I wouldn't travel with Tony Stark.

- I'll pay you.

Nat laughs at your desperation, and stops eating, looking at you with surprising kindness.

- You, girl, are adorable and kind. A nerdy cute dork, and I'm sure that if that's not enough for those idiots, they're the problem, not you. - She assures you, and you smile wryly. - Don't worry about pleasing any of them, you're going to become friends with Wanda, aren't you? Try to enjoy the trip, and if anything happens, call me and I'll finish them all off.

You laugh, nodding slightly. You don't want to think so much about this trip, but you know it's going to be the only thing on your mind for the next few days.

The week ended quickly. And you were very anxious when the weekend arrived, and you received a text message from Wanda saying that she would pick you up at home on Saturday morning. You would spend the holiday at the Stark family's winter cottage, a property big enough to fit the whole group. Wanda said it was somewhere with mountains, near a lake, and you bit your lip, wondering if you should bring a bathing suit. Since it was snowing, you figured you wouldn't try to swim anywhere.

On Saturday you were up bright and early, your bags packed. You kissed your parents and your younger brother on the cheek before you left, finding a pickup truck parked in front of your house.

Wanda hugged you when you said good morning to her, and to the boys. Vision and Pietro were in this car, and she said that Tony was in the second car, and had gone for gas.

Vision drove towards the cabin next, and he tried a little small talk before shutting up. Wanda was in the passenger seat, and Vision let his hand rest on her thigh, and you didn't understand the bitter feeling in your stomach.

- God, put on some decent music! - asked Pietro, scrambling up on the seat beside you to reach for the radio.

- Leave it, Pietro! - complained Vision pushing the boy backwards. - You only want to play that emo shit!

Pietro laughed, not insisting. And Vision looked at you through the rearview mirror.

- Let's let our guest choose the music. - he said with a smile. You cleared your throat. 

- Okay. - You agreed, pulling your cell phone out of your pocket. You turned on Spotify next, and when Vision asked if it would be any longer, you bit the inside of your cheek. And then you put on some pop rock.

Nobody said anything, and you thought that somehow you had just passed some kind of test. But then your set list started, and when the classic rock song from the 50's started playing, Vision burst out laughing.

- They don't call you Presley Freak for nothing. - He scoffs, switching to the radio next. 

- I like it. - Wanda comments surprising you, but neither Vision nor her brother change their debauched posture.

- Yes, yes, your taste is terrible too. - He replies with irony. You bite your lips as you watch Wanda roll her eyes and look away to the window. Vision lets Pietro choose the music next.

The cabin was really very big. 

You guys met Tony's car on the way, but he didn't stop. It didn't take long for you to arrive. You smiled in appreciation at Pietro when he carried your bags inside.

You looked at the structure impressed. Tony Stark really was very rich. Hugging your arms lightly after feeling the cool breeze, you smiled politely at Wanda's other friends as they greeted you.

- I am Pepper Potts, and this is Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. - says the blonde girl cheerfully, as she waves to the other boys. - You must have met Tony by now.

- I think I've seen all of you at school. - You say feeling out of place, but they smile as they walk into the cabin. Tony hands the bags to the other boys, and then is throwing an arm around your shoulders, and you want to push him away for the inappropriate contact.

- It's a pleasure to meet you, sweetie. - He says, and you blink when you feel the alcohol. - Who knew that nerds hid pretty girls with them?

The joke makes the group laugh, and you look around uncomfortably. Tony then releases you as you enter. 

Pepper is the one who shares the rooms, and you are happy to know that you won't be sharing with anyone. 

While you are unpacking upstairs on your bed, Wanda joins you.

- Hey. - She greets me as she enters and closes the door. You're folding your clothes.

- Hi, Wanda.

- Is everything okay? - she asks and you nod in agreement. - They can be a bit much sometimes, and I don't want you to get uncomfortable and... Do you like "Bewitched"?

The sudden question startles you and you blink in confusion. Wanda nods at the item in your hands. The T-shirt you are folding has the logo of the old sitcom you used to watch with your parents.

- Oh yes. - You sigh in agreement. - It is one of my favorite shows actually.

Wanda laughs in surprise, crossing her arms.

- Wow, I didn't know that. - She says. - I love this stuff. Vision thinks the jokes are stupid, so don't tell him I'm talking about it.

She jokes and you let out a wry exclamation.

- Why would I tell Vision anything? - You ask and Wanda hesitates slightly, but then smiles.

- No, it was just a figure of speech. - She clarifies as you fold your shirt.

- Right. - You say, not really understanding this conversation. - If you want, we can watch it together anytime. I think we'll have time to do it here.

Wanda looks at you with surprise and excitement.

- Really? I'd love to. - She confirms, and you smile as you finish packing. 

The redhead clears her throat afterwards.

- I just wanted to check on you anyway. - she says. - I think Steve is cooking dinner tonight, so join us when you' re ready.

- Okay, Wanda. - You say. - Thanks.

She smiles before leaving. You stare at the Bewitched's T-shirt on your bed for a few moments before you leave.

Steve tries to cook some chicken breast. And he almost burns the kitchen down. So you are on your feet, investigating the cupboards, and although cooking is not your favorite activity, you don't mind making some chili for everyone. 

- I love Mexican food. - Wanda comments excitedly as she stands next to you and watches you cook. The rest of the group is in the living room, the boys being very noisy as they throw a soccer ball around the room. You smile at the redhead next to you. 

- God, did you see the picture that Tabitha Smith posted on instagram? - Pepper asked aloud, staring at her cell phone. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, a look of disgust on her face. Wanda approached her and quickly looked at the screen. - She put on silicone, I'm sure of it. 

Wanda made a noise of agreement, exchanging a quick glance with you, clearly not caring one bit about the topic, and you smiled, turning your attention back to the pot. Pepper didn't notice and continued making comments about her classmates' social media posts.

- It's ready. - You announce. Your breath catches in your throat as Wanda puts her hand on your waist, leaning behind your back to taste the food. She lets out a satisfied groan, and you feel her cheeks flush.

But then she walks away next, and you struggle to disguise yourself as the boys are joining you, announcing that they are starving. 

- Wow, this is delicious. - said Pepper as soon as you sat down at the table and started to eat. The group agreed, and you blushed with embarrassment. Soon they started talking among themselves, and you tried to keep up as best you could, but the topics weren't really of interest to you.

When you got back to the room, Tony proposed that you all play a game, and then he went through the storage room and came back carrying monopoly.

At first you thought it would be innocent fun, then there were drinks and gambling. 

- It's a four! - shouted Tony excitedly. - That's my property, Wilson! 

Sam let out a grumble of dissatisfaction as he moved his figure around the board. Tony laughed mischievously.

- So, how do you want me to pay the rent?  - Sam asked and Tony made a thoughtful face. 

- With a question. - Tony announces maliciously. - Among the people in this room, tell me who would you have sex with?

Sam laughs in surprise, as the group gives a chorus of excitement. You swallow dryly, uncomfortable with the direction of the questions. So far, the questions and challenges had been innocent and slightly awkward, but after a few beers, the group was clearly getting more excited in other respects.

- Careful with your answer, friend. - Vision warned, putting his arm possessively around Wanda's shoulders. You looked away to the board.

- That might be shocking for a straight guy, Vis. - Sam remarked with mild debauchery. - But not all of us are looking at the girls.

The group laughs in surprise, and Vision rolls his eyes. 

- I would do Steve Rogers for sure. - Sam declares the next moment, and the group lets out a celebratory chorus. Steve laughs too, slightly surprised. Sam just smiles playfully, shrugging his shoulders. Then Steve steps forward, amusing himself by pretending to kiss him, and the group laughs. You smile awkwardly, not really understanding what everyone thinks is funny.

The game continues, and you are doing very well. You laugh when Pepper has to tell you all about the worst sexual experience she has ever had, but you are slightly uncomfortable when Steve has to demonstrate on a pillow his first time. A few rounds later, you grumble in dissatisfaction when you take a five and end up in jail.

- Whoa, that's has a punishment. - Tony announces when he sees your move. You look at him, and he looks excited. - Finally, Presley, your moment has come.

- Tony. - Wanda scolds him for his nickname, but Tony doesn't listen.

- Let me think about it. - He continues with a thoughtful expression, and then a mischievous gleam takes over his gaze. - Have you ever heard that shy girls are the biggest freaks in the room? 

You swallow dryly, feeling your face heat up as the group lets out a laugh. 

- I will not...

- Don't even start. - Tony interrupts your denial with a smile. - Don't spoil the fun. I'll give you a simple challenge.

You bite the inside of your cheek, frowning as you fight the urge to get up.

- Your sentence of freedom will be to give a hickey to the person who gets a six on the dice. - He declares, and the group lets out a chorus of excitement.

And then everyone is rushing to throw the dice and you cross your arms, feeling your face hot.

- If more than one person gets six, you'll give them both a hickey and win immunity for a round! - Tony laughs as he makes up the rules.

Pepper is the first to play, and lets out a despondent sigh when she draws two.  And then Steve plays next, and complains when the die lands on four. Sam and Tony don't get six either. You hold your breath when Wanda rolls, and feel your heart race when the die stops.

- This should be interesting. - Vision comments with mild irony and mischief as he takes his arm off Wanda's shoulders, picking up the die stopped at six. Tony laughs and you can't keep your eyes on the redhead.

Vision gets a four. And then Pietro gets a six, and you grumble.

- I can't believe you're going to get both of the Maximoffs! - Wilson comments with amusement and you swallow dryly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

- Finally some action. - Pietro jokes as he approaches. He kneels in front of you, and you take a deep breath. - Come on, Y/N, it's just a silly challenge.

He tries to reassure you with a smile, and you try to ignore the staring eyes on the two of you. You think the boys are laughing as you bring your face closer to Pietro's outstretched neck, and land your lips on his skin. He smells like aftershave lotion, but it's just embarrassing to be so close. Pietro lets out a breathless chuckle as you begin to suck on his skin, and he clenches the support of the couch.

You stop quickly, and he pulls away. The red skin glows on his neck. He flashes you the seductive smile, and you look away, listening to the group celebrating. 

- Next, please! - Tony says clearly intoxicated. You feel your racing heart echoing in your ears. Wanda gets up from the couch, and unlike her brother, she completely short-circuits your brain when she sits on your lap. You think someone whistled.

- Wanda, what are you doing? - You mumble clumsily, and she just smiles as she puts her hands on your shoulders.

- Don't you like this position? - she asks and you swallow dryly.

- Come on, girls! - Tony tells you between laughs. Someone knocks over the vodka bottle on the floor, making a mess. You think the group is barely paying attention to you, fighting among themselves to save the rest of the board and Tony's expensive rug, but you're not really taking in anything other than the girl on your lap.

You move forward, sinking your face into her neck and inhaling Wanda's scent. When you let out your breath, she trembles and squeezes your shoulder lightly, making you swallow dryly.

You let your lips kiss her skin, watching Wanda's chest rise and fall, indicating her unregulated breathing. And then you lick her skin, and she chokes. When you suck on her skin, she bites her lips hard, stopping herself from moaning.  And then you let go.

Ignoring the urge to kiss the red dot again, you throw your back against the armchair, moving away. Wanda lets out a breath, and before you can say anything, Tony is complaining that the game is over because the board has been ruined, and she rushes off your lap. 

Your face is very hot when Sam makes a snide remark to you, and then you are all saying goodnight. You don't have the courage to look at Wanda when you go up to your room.

//-//

The next day you go skiing. 

You absolutely suck at it, but so does everybody else, so nobody really cares. 

You don't want to think so much about Wanda's hands on your waist when she teaches you how to do it.

You also don't want to be so annoyed when Vision insists on getting a kiss from her while you are walking back to the cabin.

During the afternoon, you are distracted by a video game with Pietro, extremely surprised that he has invited you to do something. After dinner you go back to your room to read a little, and are astonished when Wanda appears at your door a few minutes after you have gone upstairs.

- How about we watch a sitcom together? - She invites you in, and you shrug as you smile, making space for her to enter your room. She giggles when she notices the open book on your bed. - Of course you brought a book.

You laugh awkwardly as you close the door. Wanda throws herself on your bed, opening the laptop she has brought with her. You take the book out and place it closed on the dresser, before joining her, trying to keep a respectable distance.

She ends up putting on Bewitched, and you are distracted enough by the program.

- Wow, that's kind of wrong. - You comment between giggles. And Wanda laughs lightly, turning the program's attention to you.

- What?

- The joke. - You clarify. - The way they imply that it's okay for boys to behave like that.

- Yeah, I know. - She agrees, turning her attention back to the screen. - But we're still laughing.

- Yeah. - You agree, laughing. - I guess it's okay as long as we don't find it funny in real life.

Wanda makes a noise of agreement with her mouth and then you are silent again. 

Two episodes later, Wanda suggests that you eat something. Then you go downstairs to the kitchen, and find the room empty. 

- Pietro had called the boys to play soccer. - She says. - And I think Pepper and Tony are in their room.

You nod in understanding, following her around the kitchen. Wanda starts preparing a snack for you two.

- What is it? - You ask as you observe her choice of ingredients. She smiles mischievously.

- My masterpiece. - She says. - Just trust me, you'll like it.

You laugh, nodding. When she warms the bread rolls, and starts to pour oregano on top you let out an exclamation.

- Wanda, are you sure you know what you're doing? 

She laughs, shaking her head slightly.

- Trust me on this. - She asks with a smile, starting to cut tomatoes. You cross your arms, not believing that you are actually going to eat that.

And then the sandwich is ready, and Wanda assumes a cheerful posture. She puts the bread on a plate and turns to you, leaving the object on the counter beside you.

You take a piece while she takes another, and together you taste the sandwich while Wanda looks at you expectantly.

It's surprisingly good, and you blink in amazement when you feel the taste, looking away from her to the food.

- Wow, that's good. - You comment before taking another bite. Wanda smiles.

- Really? I'm glad you like it. Vision doesn't like it very much, he says it tastes strange.

You grumble lightly, continuing to eat. Wanda pours you two some soda. You are silent for a moment and when she leaves the phone on the countertop to wash the dishes, your gaze runs quickly across the screen as you reach for your glass.

- Hey, are you into poetry? - you ask as you look at the open Instagram post.

Wanda smiles, nodding.

- That's cool, I think we follow the same page. - You comment quickly pointing to her unlocked cell phone. Wanda looks surprised.

When she finishes washing the dishes, she asks to borrow your cell phone. You spend the next thirty minutes laughing and joking as you compare your Instagram feeds and follower list. You don't want to overthink on how many common interests you have with Wanda.

//-//

On the penultimate day you want to build a snowman.

There is a Hockey game on TV, and everyone seems excited to watch. So you just walk out of the cabin while Tony hands out snacks and drinks to everyone.

You are just finishing assembling the body when you hear footsteps.

- You are very antisocial. - Wanda jokes as she approaches, hands in her pockets. You don't want to think about how adorable she looks.

- Yeah, I know. - You comment with your attention on the snowman. - It's not your friends' fault, by the way, I'm just not a big sports fan.

- All right, I don't see what's so funny about it either. - She says as she stops beside you. - Can I help you with him?

- Let me see your hands. - You ask, and she looks at you in confusion, taking her hands out of her pockets. You deny it. - No gloves, no playing. I don't want you to get hypothermia.

She laughs lightly, putting her hands back in her pockets. You turn your attention back to the snowman.

- We can go for a walk. - You suggest after a moment. - Since we're not going to watch the game.

Wanda smiles, looking away to the cabin.

- Okay.

You finish your snowman in silence. It's decent you think.

- I used to do it all the time. - You tell her as you stand up, putting your hands in your pockets. Wanda looks at you curiously. - But then I grew up and my parents thought it was a kid thing.

- Yeah, I know how that is. - She agrees as you stare at the snowman. - One birthday is all it takes for the treatment to change completely.

You nod in agreement, and then you look at her, signaling for you to go the other way.

You walk side by side in the opposite direction of the cabin.

After spending the whole way talking about the most random subjects, you end up at a small pier, at the edge of the lake that covers the entire back stretch of the cabin. You and Wanda sit side by side on the wood cross-legged.

- We should have brought something hot to drink. - You comment with a smile, hugging your arms for a moment. Wanda nods.

- So, are you enjoying the trip? - Wanda asks and you look away, smiling at the lake.

- I suppose so.

- You suppose? - She replies with amusement, making you laugh.

You clear your throat before speaking again.

- I enjoyed the time I spent with you. - You confess, looking forward. Wanda wiggles her fingers nervously, looking away from you to face the lake as well. - Don't get me wrong, Wanda. Your friends are... nice I guess. But they're not the reason I'm here.

You look at Wanda, and she nods frantically. Your heart is racing, but playing games isn't exactly your thing. You want to know what's going on.

- And you? - you ask, studying her face. - Did you enjoy the time I was here?

- Yes. - Wanda confesses breathlessly, her face flushing slightly. 

Swallowing hard, you look away to the lake again. And then you slowly move your hand against the wood, reaching for Wanda's hand next. You give it enough time for her to move away, or to strike you, and she does neither. Feeling your heart soar, you intertwine your hands, holding back a sigh at how good it feels even when wearing gloves.

Several minutes later, you let out an excited exclamation when you hear a noise in the nearby forest. Turning your head, you confirm your suspicions. A small white fox is looking at you curiously. 

You help Wanda to get up quietly and slowly so as not to startle the animal.

- Hey. - You say softly to the animal, walking towards it. The fox looks at you wide-eyed, but your posture doesn't frighten him. You smile when he lets you pet him.

- He is so cute. - Wanda comments softly, kneeling down beside you. The fox lies down on the grass as the redhead strokes his head.

He tires of the attention quickly however, and the next moment he gives you a look before running back into the forest. You and Wanda laugh lightly as you two stand up.

You walk back to the cabin in silence, a tension in the air that makes your stomach turn. You don't hold hands, but you walk very close together. 

When you are almost to the cabin area, you stand in front of Wanda, pushing her by the waist against a tree. You both sigh breathlessly, but you lose the courage. It's not right, not yet. Resting your forehead on hers, resisting the urge to kiss her, you close your eyes.

- Leave him. - You say and Wanda squeezes her hands in your arms.

Wanda lets out a sigh, closing her eyes like you did, and your faces come closer together.

- I won't share you, Wanda. - You whisper against her lips. - Either you're with me, or you're not.

Resisting the urge to close the distance, you sigh and turn away. Wanda's pupils are dilated as she looks at you. You lock your jaw, putting your hands in your pockets. And then you turn around, and disguise it nicely when Pepper comes out of the cabin, asking where you were, and you just smile and say you went for a walk.

//-//

Vision and Wanda argue on the last day at the cabin. 

You frown as your awakened by the volume of the argument. But you decide not to pry, and when Pepper signals for you to join her on her morning walk, you agree.

- You know, you are surprisingly nice. - She comments as you two take a break for some water.

- Thanks, I guess. - You mumble, and she laughs.

- What I mean is that nerds are usually know-it-all types and not at all sociable. - She explains. - You're quiet, but you're fun.

- Who says I'm not a know-it-all. - You retort with amusement, and Pepper laughs as you walk back.

- I'm just saying that it turned out to be nice to invite you over despite everything.

- Despite everything what?

Pepper laughs awkwardly, shaking her head.

- The differences between our groups I say. - She quickly clarifies. You don't perceive the lie. - Maybe there is a chance for us to remain friends after here.

- Why wouldn't we? - you ask confused. Pepper seems to be talking as if it is impossible for you to continue talking to each other after the trip is over, and you don't understand why.

Pepper blinks in embarrassment, and then pats your arm, hurrying her steps.

- It's nothing, I'm just overthinking it. - she says. - I'm sure it will all work out.

You don't ask any more questions because she's walking too fast, and exercise isn't really your thing. You're struggling to keep up.

//-//

After your walk with Pepper, you agreed to let Steve teach you how to play a bit of hockey. And then you all had lunch together, and Wanda avoided all your attempts to start a conversation with her. You figured she was upset with her boyfriend, so you didn't press her.

Later in the afternoon, after you played snowball wars with everyone, and perhaps laughed more than appropriate when Wanda kept hitting Vision in the face, Steve made a fire in the backyard area and everyone gathered around.

- Let's tell some horror stories, please? - Pietro asked as he sat down, and Tony slapped him on the head, laughing. 

- You are such a baby. - he sneered, holding out a bottle of whiskey to Steve. You rolled your eyes, impatient with Stark's annoying mania for proving his maturity.

Then he began to share sex stories, and the group seemed happy to join in. The bottle swirled around, and you let it pass you by without taking a sip. It stopped at Wanda, and she drank much more than anyone else.

- And you, Y/N, don't you have any sinful stories to share with the group? - teased Tony ironically, and you rolled your eyes.

- I prefer to be silent.

Tony laughed at her hostility.

- Now all that's left is for you to say you're a virgin! - he sneered, causing the group to laugh. You exchanged a quick glance with Wanda, who didn't even seem to be listening, the whiskey bottle still in her hands.

- I'm not, but if I were that wouldn't be your business - You retort impatiently. Tony whistles impressed.

- Tell us how it was! - he asks excitedly. - I bet it was Jessica Jones who fucked the weirdo!

You stand up abruptly as the group laughs.

- You're drunk, and you're talking shit. - you say angrily. - But if you ever annoy me again, I will punch you right in the face!

Tony seems slightly impressed by your attitude, but he is clearly drunk so he shrugs his shoulders. You then leave, returning to your room.

Non-Reader Povs

- What is your problem? - Pietro complained as soon as Y/N entered the cabin. Tony blinked surprised and alcoholic.

- It was just a joke, it's not my fault she's weird. - He retorted with a wry laugh.

Pietro let out an irritated exclamation.

- You know what? - He spoke angrily, looking at everyone. - What we're doing is wrong.

- What was that? - Vision sneered, but Pietro looked at him seriously.

- You heard me. - he said, getting up. - She's a nice girl and she's been fun to be with. That bet was stupid.

The teens exchange guilty glances, but then Tony and Vision are laughing.

- One hickey and you're in love, Maximoff? - Vision sneered and stood up, as Pietro clenched his jaw. 

- You're an asshole. 

- Oh, I'm an asshole? - Vision retorted ironically. - This little scene of yours is absurd, treating your friends as if we were the villains of the story. - he says laughing. - The girl is a weirdo who must be absolutely fascinated that people like us even talk to her!

Pietro looks at him impatiently, but Vision does not lose his debauched posture.

- Shut up. - Wanda's drunken speech startles the group. Vision turns to her in surprise, but then he laughs.

- That's excellent. - He says. - Both Maximoffs teaming up against the group.

- You're full of shit. - Wanda exclaimed angrily, getting up, and Vision shook her head. - She's not...

- She's not what dear? - He interrupted. - You know I'm right. In fact, I bet if you go up to her room right now, you won't even need to ask twice and she'll fuck you.

- Vision! - Pietro exclaims angrily, but he stares only at the redhead, who has her jaw clenched.

- Everyone just wants to fuck you, Wandy. - He says. - There's nothing worthwhile beyond that.

Wanda holds back the tears in her eyes, bumping into Vision as she leaves, and the boy laughs, shouting between giggles that he was only joking, but the redhead doesn't turn around. 

- That was cruel. - Potts then said, and Vision let out a wry laugh.

- It was just a joke. - He says and sits back down. - You girls are so sentimental. 

Pietro then leaves, and Vision rolls his eyes. Steve and Sam exchange a look with Pepper.

- You can't really think it's okay to say something like that to your girlfriend. - Steve said annoyed. Vision laughs, incredulous at Steve's insinuation. - What is it, people? - he replies. - I just said she's hot, how is that a bad thing?

- You know, Pietro is right. - Steve said as he got up. - This whole story is absurd. - Steve, come on. - No, he is right. - Sam then agreed. And then Pepper stood up, exchanging a look with Tony. - Good, then. - Vision exclaims angrily. - Be my guests! I suppose you'll start hanging out with the school's weirdos on Monday then. You guys are a joke. Hypocrites. Vision grumbles before exiting angrily, walking towards the trail. The group exchanged a guilty look.

Reader Pov

You had just finished showering and putting on your pajamas when Wanda came into your room. You frowned in surprise, and let out an exclamation when she pushed you onto the bed and sat you on your lap.

- What are you doing? - you asked, and Wanda just grumbled, trying to unbutton your pajamas, but clearly too drunk to do so. - Wanda, stop. Wanda!

- That's what you want, isn't it? - She retorts with irritation, but her eyes are filled with tears. - Everyone wants to fuck the hot girl.

- Wanda, what are you talking about?

But then she's crying, falling against you. You let your arms go around her, trying to calm her down. She only stops crying when she falls asleep.

You don't know what has happened, but you feel your heart clench. Moving to the bed, you lay Wanda down on the mattress, then cover her with the blanket. 

When you consider going to sleep in the living room, she takes your hand and whispers "stay," and you obey her.

//-//

You wake up with Wanda entwined with you. It is warm and comforting, and you smile shyly at the sensation. 

The redhead starts to wake up next, grumbling as she buries her face in your neck, making you smile.

- We have to get up. - You whisper to her. - We're leaving.

- In a minute.

She says and it really only takes a moment for her to open her eyes, and be startled by the position. She awkwardly pulls away from your embrace, but still lies there. You turn on the bed to look at her, resting your face on your hand.

- I'm sorry about last night. - She says embarrassed, looking down.

- No problem. - You say. - But what was that about anyway?

Wanda sighs, running her hands through her hair as she stares at the ceiling, her back on the mattress.

- Vision told me some stupid things, and well, I believed him. - She says and you look at her curiously. With your silence, she clarifies. - It was just some comments he used to make about my body, okay? Things like, people are only interested in me because I'm hot.

You frown, surprised and annoyed. 

- That's bullshit.

Wanda looks at you, surprised that you said something. You look into her eyes as you speak again.

- Your boyfriend is an insecure scumbag who uses your body insecurities against you. It's sick. - You tell her seriously. - You, Wanda Maximoff, are completely passionate for a thousand reasons other than your looks. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

You smile at Wanda's surprised expression, letting your fingers wander across her features. 

- Do you really mean that? - she asks insecurely, and you give her a tender look.

- You're sweet. - You start, letting your fingers caress her cheek. - Smart and sincere. You have this different energy, like you never fit anywhere and you're absolutely magnetic. - You tell her. - And of course, you also laugh at my jokes, which suggests that you are as sarcastic and perceptive as I am. 

Wanda smiles and closes her eyes for a second, and then looks at you with almost guilt.

- Can I ask you a random question?

- Sure.

- If someone needed to apologize to you, what would be the best way?

- This is a very specific question, Wanda. Should I be concerned? - You retort with mild amusement, and Wanda quickly denies it.

- Come on, answer me. - She asks, and you giggle.

- I don't know, Wanda. - You say laughing, and roll your eyes slightly. - I guess it would depend on what the person did. - You explain, and Wanda looks at you with a frown. - What's that face, what would your answer be then?

- Food. - She says and you look at her with confusion. - The person would only have to buy me food and apologize and I would forgive them.

You let out a laugh, and Wanda follows. And then you assume a thoughtful posture.

- Honestly, I don't think if there is a right way. - You tell her. - I would like the person to be honest with me, and explain to me what happened. - You say, and Wanda nods with a serious expression. - That, or a really cheesy apology act.

- What? - Wanda asks with amusement.

- Yes, like in those old movies. - You clarify with a slight laugh. - If someone apologizes in the rain, or with a serenade at my window, I would probably forgive that person for the shame they are going through for me.

You and Wanda laugh and then your alarm clock starts to ring, signaling that it was already time for everyone to get up and go home. You sigh slightly.

As you sit up in bed, throwing your feet out, Wanda hugs your back, surprising you.

- Thank you. - She says against your ear. - Don't give up on me yet, okay?

You frown in confusion, laughing without understanding Wanda's seriousness. You squeeze your hands together, but then she lets go. 

- Is everything all right? - you ask as she turns around on the bed and stands up in front of you. Wanda swallows dryly, nodding. She smiles before she leaves, and you ignore the strange feeling that has settled on the pit of your stomach as you stand up toward the bathroom.

//-//

The way back to your house is strangely silent. It seems that all of Wanda's friends have changed their personalities overnight. Pietro gives you a quick hug across the shoulders as you get out of the car, and Wanda kisses your cheek. Vision doesn't look at you.

You call your friends as soon as you finish packing your things in your room. And everyone is extremely surprised when you share what has happened in the last few days.

When you return to school the next day, you are feeling excited. 

Your first class is Biology, which means that you would have some time alone with Wanda, and while you wait for the starting bell, sitting on the benches outside with your friends, Wanda's group passes you by. 

You frown as you notice Vision with his arm around Wanda, and she quickly looks away when she notices you watching. You clench your jaw at the childish attitude, and then you are getting up and walking toward the table they have chosen.

- Can I talk to you? - You ask the redhead directly, who seems to have trouble keeping her gaze on you. Her friends also look awkward, as if they are almost embarrassed, and none of them look at you for very long. Completely unlike Vision, who has a smug posture and a wry smile.

- Leave my girlfriend alone, freak. - He then says, and you blink in surprise.

- What is your problem? - You retort in irritation and Vision lets out a wry laugh.

- What is your problem? - He repeats, getting up and facing you. You don't hesitate, but you don't understand why everyone just stares at you. - What did you think was going to happen, huh? That you would start hanging out with the cool kids?

You look at him in confusion, and then he crosses his arms.

- I just want to talk to Wanda.

Vision laughed, looking mocking.

- You're so stupid. - He accused and you took a step back. - The bet is off girl, Wanda has nothing to say.

You blink in confusion, and the redhead is getting up, pulling on her boyfriend's forearm, but you look at them feeling your heart racing.

- What are you talking about?

Vision laughs, releasing Wanda's grip. You think she whispered "Please don't," but you are trying to understand what is going on.

- Oh, your dear friend didn't tell you? - he asks debauchedly. - We had a bet. I was sure you'd be completely obsessed with Wanda by the end of the holiday, and look at you! Here you are. I don't blame you though, Wanda is hot.

You choke in surprise, taking another step back. You risk a glance at the rest of the group, and they have their heads down, guilty looks on their faces. And then you look at Wanda, eyes watering as she clenches her fists. Feeling your heart break, and your stomach clench, you nod.

- Y/N, I can explain. - Wanda starts and you laugh, running your hands through your hair.

- I've always defended you. - You say, putting your hands in your pockets. - When people told me you were false and deceitful, I defended you. I really thought you were different from them.

- I....

- I can't believe I trusted you. - You say. - Never speak to me again, Wanda Maximoff.

You turned around walking away, ignoring the times the redhead called your name as you held back your tears. 

//-//

Your mother told the school that you were sick.

That's how you felt anyway.

It had been three days since you had left your room. Bruce, Monica and Natasha were sending you all the school content you were missing, and you struggled to keep your focus on that and not on the heartbreak that seemed to take over your whole body.

The weekend arrived again, and you decided to get some fresh air. You were on your balcony, sipping hot chocolate when Nat came into your yard.

- Hey, stranger. - She greets you with a smile, sitting down on the seat in front of you. You give her a sad smile.

- Hi, Nat. 

- How are you?

You shrug, and she sighs.

- It will pass, I promise. - She says and you drink some of your chocolate. - By the way, I'm suspended.

- What? - You ask in surprise, and she giggles, showing you the bandage on the fingers of her right hand.

- I punched Vision in the nose shortly after you left the cafeteria. - She tells you, and you widen your eyes in surprise. - I didn't say anything before because I didn't want you to feel guilty.

- Nat! - you exclaim, slightly upset, looking at her hand. - You didn't have to do that.

- I know. - she says with a slight laugh. - But you are my friend, and he is an idiot. You're a dork who doesn't have the strength to hurt a fly, but I have a feeling you'd do the same for me.

You laugh, nodding.

- I would probably get beat up in reality.

Nat laughs in agreement.

You are silent for a moment, until Nat speaks again.

- I hate to see you like this. - She comments, and you sigh, leaving the coffee mug on the table. 

- I hate feeling like this too. 

Nat sighs, opening her arms. You accept her invitation to hug her, and sit down next to her on the bench, letting her wrap you in a side hug.

- You'll come out of this, dear. - She starts to say as she strokes your hair. - Next year you'll be in college, with so many people wanting to get into your pants that you won't even remember who Wanda Maximoff was.

You laugh shyly.

- I hope you are right. - You grumble, closing your eyes.

- I always am.

//-//

You go back to school the following week.

Your body always seems to notice that Wanda is in the same room as you, even though she is meters away, but you learn to deal with the feeling.

You talked to the biology teacher on Monday morning. Apparently, the news quickly spread throughout the school, and she did not refuse to change your partner. 

It wasn't an ideal scenario knowing that everyone in the school was feeling sorry for you, but at least you wouldn't have to talk to Wanda in class.

And so two weeks passed.

You were almost getting used to the feeling as you walked towards the main building, after stopping by the library and returning the physics books you were using, when you heard a commotion in the courtyard.

There was already a circle of students around, and you were considering turning around, because fights are not really your thing, but you had a feeling you should check it out. 

As you slipped in among the students, you let out a surprised exclamation.

- Bruce! - You shouted as you threw the bag on the ground and lunged forward, but the boy who was fighting with your friend just turned around when you jumped at him, breaking free of your grip and laughing with irony and anger. He slapped you in the face that drew a surprised chorus from the crowd. You staggered back with the impact, feeling your face burn. But you stepped forward again, but he gave you a hard shove that knocked you to the ground. As you got up to go forward again, someone grabbed you around the waist. - Pietro, let me go! Help him!

You let out another exclamation when the boy punched Bruce in the face, but Pietro pushed you away from the fight, and Steve held you by the arms in the crowd. Pietro lunged at the boy next, while Bruce fell unconscious.

You broke free of Steve's grip and ran to your friend, and then there were teachers all around you, and you were all being led into the principal's office.

The counselor motioned for you to sit in one of the chairs to wait your turn, and you used this moment to send messages to your friends. Monica told you that she heard about the fight, but that she was in the history room when it happened. Natasha didn't answer, and when she appeared in front of you, you frowned.

- Nat, Bruce he...

- I know. - She interrupted seriously with an almost tearful expression. - He was fighting for me.

- For you? What?

Nat shook her head, looking toward the direction door.

- I told him not to get involved, but he is stubborn. - She says and then takes a deep breath. - That boy over there, his name is Clint. He's my ex. He... he hit me.

- Whoa, what?

- I know, it's too much to explain. - She says. - Me and Bruce, we... we've been going out for a few weeks now. And Clint wasn't happy when he found out. I told Bruce not to get involved but…

- Hey, Nat breathes. - You interrupt by seeing her eyes filled with tears. - This is not your fault.

You hug your friend, trying to calm her down. It doesn't take long for Monica to reach you two.

Soon the director calls you to give your side of the story, and you just tell him that you arrived in the middle of the fight. As you leave, the principal asks you to go to the infirmary and only then you remember that you were beaten.

You give up the idea of getting a bandage when you find Pietro and the group of friends, including Wanda, in the infirmary, but as soon as the nurse lays eyes on you, she pulls you in, sitting you down on one of the free beds.

She starts grumbling that the students have decided to behave like savages as she rushes over with the first aid kits to attend to all the students who were in the infirmary. You don't quite understand what happened, but it seemed that some kids had made a mess in the pesticide gardening class, so there were several students with red spots on their arms complaining of pain.

- It's okay, I can do it. - You tell the nurse as soon as she approaches you with the first aid kit. She looks at you suspiciously, but then a student at your back lets out a complaint and she sighs, handing the items to you as she leaves. You get up to look in the small mirror on the edge of the bed. There is a small cut on your cheek. That guy really hit hard.

While you were preparing the alcohol swab, Wanda walked over to you. You stared at her reflection in the mirror.

- I can help you with this. - She said about the bandage.

- I don't need your help. - You retorted harshly. Wanda looked at the floor. 

- I am sorry. 

You blinked in surprise, and turned away in irritation.

- No.  - You warned, and Wanda swallowed hard.  She looked at you, ready to start talking again, but then you shook your head. - Don't you dare.

- Please…

But you left right away, bumping into her shoulder.

Almost four weeks, and your chest still hurts just the same. 

You think the nurse has called you, but you keep walking towards the exit. 

When you reached the outer courtyard, you collapsed. 

Sitting on the floor, and trying to control your breathing and your crying, you were startled when someone touched your shoulders. Monica didn't ask questions, she just hugged you.

- I can't do it, Mon. - You said between sobs. - I love her so much it feels like I'm going to suffocate.

- Shh, it's okay. - Monica tried to calm you down as she ran her hands down your back.

- Why can't I move on? She hurt me, why can't I stop loving her? - you asked in desperation. Monica just kept calming you. 

- I know it feels like the end of the world now. - Monica says. - But I promise it will pass.

You cried for a few more minutes, trying to push or smother the pain away. It wasn't fair the way Wanda had your broken heart in her hand.

//-//

Bruce did not suffer any serious injuries.

You visited him in the infirmary as soon as he was released from the principal's office. He was worried about your swollen crying eyes, but you assured him that everything was fine.

And then he told you that he was in love with Natasha, and that Clint had been expelled. You shook his hand, saying that everything would be all right now. Soon Nat was in the room with you, hugging Bruce, while you went out with Monica to get something to eat.

The week passed quietly after this. 

Your friends started the "Moving on squad", and they did everything to keep you distracted and well cared for. It was sweet and caring, and it was enough to keep your feelings well under control.

A few days after that mess, you needed to buy tomato sauce for your mother and found Pietro Maximoff in the supermarket checkout line.

- Hey. - He greeted you politely. You felt your heart race at the possibility that he was with his sister. 

- Hi, Pietro. - You answered in the same tone.

You were checking around for signs of the redhead, but Pietro was alone. He said something about the prices, and you just grumbled in agreement, and then it was your turn.

In the parking lot, while you were unlocking your bike, he approached you again.

- I want to apologize to you. - He announced as he approached, and you let out a sigh.

- Look Pietro...

- No. - He interrupts with a quick smile. - I meant it. I'm really sorry. You're a nice girl, and we were idiots. 

You stare at him for a moment, then go back to picking the lock.

- Is that all?

- Yes. - He confirms with a wry smile. But when he turns around, you call out to him.

- I... Thank you for that day. - You say. - You pulled me out of the fight. I probably would have got hurt if... what I mean is... 

- It's all right.- He interrupts with a smile. - It was nothing. 

You nodded and he smiled, turning again and walking away. You finished unlocking the lock and got on your bike.

//-//

The next week you were surprised to find a box of chocolate in your closet.

Nat exchanged a mischievous look with you, and you rolled your eyes absentmindedly, opening the package. It didn't have a name on it, and only said "you are cute". 

- I can't believe you have a secret admirer. - Monica commented excitedly when you told her during lunch. Bruce and Natasha were sitting next to you, laughing lightly as they talked among themselves.

- Neither do I. - You comment with humor. - But the chocolates were good at least.

- I think it’s sweet. - She comments with a smile, and you shrug, blushing.

- It's weird. - You say with a slight laugh, and Monica squeezes your red cheeks lightly, saying that you're adorable, making you laugh. - Damn, I'm terrible at these things.

You start talking about the upcoming exams after that, and then the break ends.

It is in the last period of PE that you speak with Pietro again several days after you saw him last.

- Hey. - He greets you with an excited nod. You smile politely as you tie your shoelaces. 

- Hi. - You say as he joins you.

- Are you going to the game on Saturday? - he asks, causing you to frown. 

- I'm not...

- My god this guy never gives up. - He interrupts with a scowl, looking at something behind you. You turn your head to see what it is, and notice Vision talking to Wanda several feet ahead, near the bleachers. The redhead looks impatient, and you feel your heart ache just by looking directly at her. Shifting your gaze back to Pietro, you notice that he is still grimacing. - They've been broken up for over a month and he still keeps insisting.

You blink in surprise and Pietro looks back at you.

- They broke up?

- I thought you knew. - He quips, slightly surprised, and then shrugs his shoulders. - They broke up that day in the yard. Wanda slapped him in the face in front of the whole school, everyone talked about it for weeks.

- I'm not really into school gossip. - You comment and Pietro laughs.

- Of course not.

You stand up next, your gaze quickly shifting to Wanda, but you disguise it by looking at Pietro, who has an expectant expression on his face. Then you remember the question and let out an exclamation, running your hands through your hair.

- I'm not into sports, Pietro. - You tell him and he nods in understanding, looking upset. - But I like the food. And Natasha loves the games, so maybe I'll show up with my friends there.

Pietro lets out an excited exclamation, and gives you a pat on the shoulder, saying he hopes you can make it, before heading out onto the court. 

You ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach when your gaze meets Wanda's on the other side of the court, and you quickly turn away, starting to do your exercises for class.

//-//

You were slightly surprised by Natasha's outfit. She was covered head to toe in school colors, down to a commemorative hat and matching socks. You looked at her with a raised eyebrow, but she just smiled as she pulled you by the hand to Monica's truck.

- How is the story about the secret admirer going? - Nat asked as you sat in the back seat, and Monica drove to school and Bruce fiddled with the radio.

- I received flowers on Wednesday. - You tell with a smile. - And a collection of special gift vouchers.

- What are these? - She asked curiously, and Monica laughed lightly as you felt your cheeks flush.

- It's a special kind of ... eh ... vouchers for hugs, kisses, that sort of thing. - You mumbled clumsily and Natasha laughed.

- My goodness, look at your face! - She laughed. - You are loving how corny this is.

You grumbled with a hot face, turning your gaze to the window. Bruce chose a very good song next, and your friends started singing along. It didn't take long before you joined them.

//-//

The school stadium was quite crowded. Senior year games always had scouts from universities, so you weren't surprised by family members, and well-dressed strangers in the stands, as well as faculty. 

- Wow, Mom is going to have fun today. - Monica commented as two you walked to the bleachers. She was looking at her cell phone, and showed you a picture of two glasses of wine that Maria had sent her. - She has a date.

- Have you met them? - you asked curiously, and Monica made a noise with her mouth of agreement.

- She's from the Air Force. Very pretty and fun, and she treated me very well. - She told you with a smile. - I hope everything works out between them, Mom deserves to be happy.

You nod in agreement and then you find empty chairs. Bruce and Natasha join you many moments later, carrying the food. 

- Yay, fries. - Monica says excitedly as Natasha distributes the food among you.

The band then enters the stadium. And the crowd seems excited, you and Monica laugh at Natasha's excitement.

As soon as the band makes their formation, the cheerleaders enter the field and the crowd cheers. You try not to look at Wanda so immediately, but that is exactly what you do. When they are all in the center, and finish the performance with lots of applause, the director gets up on the stage and starts announcing the game.

- And without further ado, West View High let's...

The principal is interrupted abruptly by one of the students. You and the audience watch intently as Pepper nudges the principal on the shoulder, and he turns around confused and surprised. She smiles innocently as she quickly takes the microphone from his hand.

- We had a slight change of plans, West View. - she announces, smiling. And then the band is moving on, and you recognize the music quickly. It was an old rock song. The audience sings along excitedly, surprised and in shock, but still happy with the music. 

As the music plays, Pepper turns back to the director, and they discuss something. He lets out a sigh and shakes his head, and she gives an excited little jump, and then is joining the cheering team again.

When the song ends, it is not Pepper who comes up to the podium with the microphone, but Wanda, which generates a lot of comments from the audience.

- Is that? - Natasha starts and you feel your stomach turn.

- Yep.

- Hello West View. - Wanda begins looking nervous, the audience looks at her in anticipation. - Many of you must think me a complete bitch after the rumors that surfaced a few weeks ago.

- Oh my God. - You mumble clumsily, feeling the stares of some people on you. 

- I think I should explain what happened. - Wanda says tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and ignoring the comments from the audience, she continues talking. - My ex-boyfriend and my best friends decided to make a bet. - She explains, and you clench your jaw. - He bet my friends that if I gave even the slightest bit of attention to our colleague, Y/N Y/L/N, she would become obsessed with me in one weekend. - The audience seems shocked by the confessions, but Wanda was looking at you. - The funny thing is, it was the exact opposite. Y/N is this amazing girl, sweet and caring, and I can't stop thinking about her. It must be because I am completely in love with her. - She confessed, and you felt your eyes fill with tears. - But I blew it. I was mean and cruel, and I'm sorry. I'm here to apologize to you Y/N, and you don't even have to forgive me. I just wanted you to know.

The audience erupted in murmurs at the confession, and you were in shock to react. Wanda was also teary-eyed. 

A mixture of "forgive her" and " start the game" and various other comments began to grow louder, and then Director Fury was approaching Wanda, and asking for the microphone back. She took one last look at you, before bowing her head and walking off the field. The audience let out a mixed chorus of celebration and sadness, and then Monica was pushing you slightly, and you waved frantically as you hurried to catch up to Wanda.

- I can't believe you did that! - You shout at her as soon as you reach her in the gymnasium hallway, the noise of the game starting muffled by the distance.

Wanda turns around in surprise, wiping away tears.

- I just...

- When I said the perfect apology would be like a cliché, I can't believe you took it seriously. - You comment as you approach laughing lightly. Wanda looks surprised at your friendly posture. - You are such a dork.

And then you kiss her as you bring your hands to her waist, and she sighs in astonishment, but responds the next second, trembling as your tongues touch. 

You push her against the wall of the hallway, and she slips her arms around your shoulders, melting into the kiss. You separate your mouths for breath.

- I'm sorry. - She asks again with her eyes closed. - I'm really sorry.

- I know. - You agree breathlessly. - Just... don't ever do anything like that again. 

She nods in agreement, kissing you again. It's delicious the way your tongues feel together, making your head spin. You are blushing because Wanda is sighing and making a warm tightness rise in the pit of your stomach.

- I love you too, Wands. - You confess against her lips and she opens her eyes in surprise, you look at her with a smile. - I guess ever since you laughed at my joke in biology class.

Wanda lets out a short laugh, her eyes sparkling with joy.

- I love you. - She answers by kissing you quickly. - I love you. - She repeats and starts depositing kisses all over your face, making you laugh. She repeats and repeats until you kiss her again, intensely this time.

You stay like this for several minutes. Exchanging not-so-innocent kisses against the gymnasium wall. Until the first half of the game is over, and you hear the sound of the players returning to the locker room, and then Pietro is reaching for you, making a false threatening posture when he notices your swollen lips, and Wanda's lipstick on your face.

- Please get a room. - He then jokes, continuing on his way to the locker room. 

You and Wanda agree to leave the stadium, wanting to enjoy some time together without the stares of the audience on you.

You two end up in the back of Monica's truck, staring up at the stars, your hands entwined.

- So it was you who sent the presents. - You conclude by looking at Wanda quickly, to catch her blushing cheeks.

- I was trying to find a way to talk to you. - She explained, turning to you, releasing her hand only to stroke your cheek. - That's why I made the voucher “worth a conversation”.

You laughed lightly, looking at her fondly.

- I liked the kiss coupon. - You say with amusement and she raises her eyebrow, smiling. 

- Yeah? - She replies, bringing your faces together and stealing a lingering kiss from you.

- Best one.

Wanda laughs, pulling away a little. You swallow dryly, watching her carefully. 

- What happens now? - you ask, and Wanda looks into your eyes.

- I don't know. - She says. - But I hope we'll be together in the end.

You smile, nodding. 

- We will. - You assure her before adjusting your position to embrace her. Wanda snuggles against you, enjoying your warmth.

[shurisneakers]

harmless (ix)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: a lot of requests came in last week, so cool and thank you for sending them in!! i’ll try my best to write them if they weren’t originally what i had planned for this series bc they’re so cute kfjdghdf. also hey shoutout to @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ for suggesting the backstory thing! 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Additional Scene   || Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Hot single in your area! 😈  Find your solemate! 

Somehow it bypasses Bucky’s spam folder and is in his primary email. SHIELD tech is too advanced to let fake mails like this reach him and this doesn’t make sense. Unless it was one of the stupid dating websites he signed up for.

Leaving aside the obvious typo in the subject, he clicks on it, hoping it doesn’t unleash a virus onto his computer. 

He’s instead greeted with a poorly Photoshopped picture of you at a bar with a martini in your hand. He doesn’t have to look too hard to see that the martini is, in fact, an emoji. Off to a terrible start already. 

Right beside it is an even worse image, an imitation of an early Internet chat box.

Harbinger of Doom just sent you a message! 

Come to the empty lot near lair. Bring goggles. 😩💦

Decline/Accept

He wants to strangle you. 

______

“Why did you curse my eyes so early in the morning?” He spots you at the top of the lair, speaking loudly so that it hopefully reached you. 

“What?” you yell back down instead. “If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.”

He rolls his eyes. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses on your contact. 

He watches the look of confusion morph into one of slight surprise when you reach into your pocket and pull out your call.

“Don’t ever send an image like that to me again,” he says directly.

“If that one image is too much for you, how will we ever make our sex tape?”

His mouth opens and shuts like goddamn fish.

He can hear your laughter even without the phone.

“First of all- stop laughing- first of all, a sex tape is never going to happen. Second of all, I have a debriefing to go to, we need to make this quick.”

He holds up a finger when he sees you begin to say something. By the look of trouble painted all over your face, he knows it’s going to be a dumb innuendo. 

“Thirdly, why are you standing there?”

“I watched The Last Airbender,” you say once your cackling dies down.

“I like that show.” He did. Peter sometimes watched it when he came over and Bucky more often than not joined in.

“I know, you told me.”

Oh. 

“Okay, what now?” 

“Put your goggles on.” You take one step towards the ledge. 

“What are you doing?” The goggles don’t do anything to shield him from the sun, considering that they’re not tinted. Maybe he could invest in those.

You send him a smile, taking a step further. His walk towards the building turns into a jog, then a sprint when you’re basically standing on the edge.

You spread your arms out like Jesus Christ himself before flinging yourself off the building. His stomach drops.

His phone falls to the ground, discarded to the side as he sprints to break your landing. 

It never comes. 

Instead, a gust of wind smacks him in the face, forcing him a few steps backwards. 

“I am now an air bender.” your eyes shone. “Kind of.”

Just like that, the show was ruined.

He wipes the dust on from his glasses that he now understands why you made him wear. Considerate, for a person who nearly just gave him a heart attack. 

“Why.” It’s not even a question, just a statement. 

“You know how the Tower has a giant ‘A’ on the side?” 

He stares at you. 

“I‘m gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of it.”

Pepper would not like that. 

“That’s not even evil.”

“Yeah, but it’d annoy your super friends,” You do a flip midair, testing out the repulsors that were tied around your palms, “and I’m the voice of the people.”

You’re too high for him to reach. He doesn’t have his tools, or anything useful on him considering that he never had to use them before. He couldn’t even launch himself at you from the side of the building because you’d just move out of the way. He could jump really high but it would just have the same consequence.

He could talk and keep you distracted but that worked once, it wouldn’t again. At least not for long. 

Fuck, he really had only one option. 

He leaves you to do your somersaults and turns, walking over to where he dropped his phone. It’s an upgrade from the brick he was using a while ago, but not a high end Stark model. A smartphone, but barely.

He sighs, punching in the number and holding it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you yell from above him. 

“Go back to your shitty aerobics,” he yells back.

You pause for a second. “Was that a fucking pun, James Bar-”

The dial tone ends when someone picks up. He diverts his attention back to the call.

“Hey man, I-

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“It’s probably something stupid,” Sam doesn’t even sound annoyed, just uninterested.

“I need your wings.”

“I was right. Bye.”

It was a long shot anyway.

“Fuckin’ hold on a second.” He sees you disintegrate a concrete block by having it drop from the air. “You come here and fix this, then. She’s air bending now.”

“...like Avatar?” Sam unsurprisingly got the reference. 

Peter’s interests were usually shared by everyone in the Tower, just because they had to compensate for the teasing he had to endure. It led to a lot of geeky documentaries and occasional musicals. Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead humming songs from Thoroughly Modern Millie under his breath. 

“Yeah.”

“You want me to come and fight your girlfriend,” he says slowly. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky urges, “and yes, I need help. Can’t exactly reach her when she’s twenty feet above me.”

“We have a briefing in 30 minutes. Why did you even go there today?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Just looks up at you smacking one of the repulsors against your thigh when it sputters for a second. It’s tradition. 

“Well?” Bucky ignores his question.

“Fine,” Sam’s voice is distant for a second as he agrees. “Clint’s asking if he can come too.”

“Fuck no.” One of them was more than enough and Sam was way better at negotiation. 

He hears a faint profanity from who he assumed was Clint before the call cuts.

He takes a seat on the ground and waits.

“You’re not going to make any effort to stop me?” You have your arms pressed to your side, palms pointed downwards to keep you afloat.

 “I could just throw things at you again.” He makes a mention towards the small pebbles.

“I will fuck you up if you even try,” you warn. He lifts his arms in surrender. “So that’s it. You’re just going to sit there.”

“To be honest, I couldn’t care less if you painted the building,” he says with the least amount of interest he could muster, not that that was very hard.

“Do you not like your team?” 

“I do.” He isn’t lying. “But they’re little shits.”

“I can draw a couple of dicks on their window, no problem,” you say offhandedly.

He looks up at you through his fingers. “That won’t be required.”

Although it was appreciated. 

“Cool, so then I’m gonna go.” You make a mention of the utility belt on your waist. He looks at the many spray cans that decorate it. 

“What colour are you going with?” he interrupts quickly. Fuckin’ Sam. What was the point of wings if he couldn’t get here in 2 minutes?

“Red, probably.” You look down. “I got purple and white just in case.”

“Building’s dark, red is good.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” You lower yourself down to the ground, a few feet ahead of him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” For fucks’ sake, Sam. “You really don’t like superheroes, do you?”

“I don’t have anything against them.”

“Then why do you do this every week?”

This was wading into personal territory and he did not like it. 

“Well.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Because I want to. It’s fun.”

“No other reason?”

“Do I need to have another reason?” You push your palm downwards, sending you back up into the air. “Can’t I just be evil because I want to?”

“Sure,” he says. He’s heard worse reasons. “Why not?”

“Besides, if you think I don’t like superheroes then you should meet Jake.”

“Who’s Jake?” He hadn’t ever heard you mention him before because he’d remember if you had.

“My roommate.” 

“I didn’t see him when I came over.”

“That’s because we’re not conjoined at the hip.” It takes you a second to stabilise. “Besides, he grabbed the water while I got the bracelet but he refused to come say hi.”

Bucky looked down at his wrist. It was still there. He found himself fidgeting with it more often than not.

“He hates superheroes?”

“He has a valid reason.” Your eyes widen in worry when your head suddenly dips. 

“What is it?” He knows the height at which you’re at isn’t very dangerous but if need be, he’s close by. 

“Come find out.” Your eyes shone mischievously. “But yeah, no reason for me to be evil.”

“Not even a tragic backstory?” 

“None. But if you want it, I can give you one, Barnes.” You test the waters, seeing how long you can lie horizontally. “Can’t promise you’ll like it though.”

“Try me.” He has time to kill. He’s a good listener.

“Well, it all started with my family- a troop of gorillas.” You flip over to lie on your back. “They practically raised me, they did. Until my gorilla mother died and I was all but consumed by grief and-”

“Your mother was a gorilla?” He entertains the notion. 

“Or was it my father?” you ask thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I don’t remember. Anyway, I met a-”

“Just to clarify, none of this is real, right?” he interjects. 

You stare at him. He stares at you.

“Bucky, that’s the plot of Tarzan,” you say slowly, “or at least whatever I remember of it... which I’m beginning to realise isn’t much.”

“Just clarifying.” He leans back again.

“Anyway so then when my mother, the deer-”

“Gorilla.”

“Whatever. Was killed, I escaped to some place-”

“Where?”

“Somewhere. And I stayed with these seven men-”

“Why seven?” He actually remembers watching this movie with his sister when it came out. An early memory, a bit faded. He remembers how long he saved up for the ticket.

“Because character development. And then I realised the reason my life was so weird was because there was a rat controlling me by pulling on my hair-”

“What the fuc-”

“If you ask any more questions, I’m going to stop.”

Bucky blinks at you. “So that’s your backstory.” 

“Raw and uncut, baby.”

“Just to get this straight, your mother, the gorilla deer-”

“Witch.”

“Huh?”

“She was a witch who stole my hair.”

“Wha-”

He’s interrupted by the giant shadow cast by something that flies overhead. 

Fucking finally. 

He doesn’t even have to look up. Sam does a small glide to the ground, landing gracefully beside him.

Bucky finds you speechless but straightened up from your earlier posture.

“Buck,” Sam greets him.

“Sam,” he says in return, getting up from his place. 

A grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Sam Wilson. No way.”

“You’re Y/N, I’m assuming?” Sam offers, posture relaxed. He clearly wasn’t here to fight. 

“The one and only.” You tear your eyes away from Sam to glare at Bucky. “Barnes, if you had told me we were expecting guests, I would have dressed better.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows in suspicion at you. You’d dress up for Sam. 

You dressed up like a suburban tourist dad for him. He was feeling the offence incoming. 

“Can’t count on him to be useful in any situation.” Alright, he did not call Sam just to have the both of you team up against him. 

“Normally I’d agree with you but he did just invite you here, so...” you trail off, looking at Sam expectantly. 

What the shit.

Sam smirks. Bucky switches rapidly back and forth between the both of you.

“I see why Buck keeps coming back every week.” It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, enlisting a feeling of triumph from you. 

“I can’t see why he doesn’t just stay at home everyday if this is the view.” You gesture to him.

This is not what Bucky wanted.

“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “what is going on here?”

“Pure chemistry, I’d say.” You’re half tempted to bite your lip to seal the deal.

“I agree.” Sam just nods, completely and utterly serious. 

You think that you’ll give him a gift basket just for playing along despite meeting you for the first time at that moment. 

“Get a room.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Maybe we will.” You tap your finger against your lip in thought. “How do you feel about Indian food, Sam?”

“Very positively.” 

Bucky grits his teeth. “If you’re not planning to spray paint the Tower, can you just hand over the repulsers so we can go home for the day?”

You let out a small tsk in disapproval. “See what I have to deal with?”

“Can’t imagine how you do it every weekend,” Sam says dryly, not wasting a second in replying. 

“Hello?” Bucky waves his arm around. “She’s the villain here.”

“Your face is the villain here.” You tear your eyes away from Sam only to glare at him. “He won’t even wear a cape. Why am I the only one who brings their A-Game every week?”

“Sam just get the damn-”

“You should wear a cape, man.” Bucky’s absolutely sure that even Sam knows it’s a ridiculous idea.

“I’m not wearing a fuckin’ cape,” he grumbles. 

“What are your thoughts on swords, then?” Your finger finds a place under your chin in deep contemplation. “You’d look great with a sword.”

Bucky buries his face in his palms. “Sam, for the love of God.” 

“Okay, alright.” Sam finally gives in with a small chuckle. He runs a few steps to get a small head start before launching himself into the air, whizzing past your levitating figure. He does a neat little flip midair before matching your height.

Showoff.

“How difficult are you gonna make this, Wilson?” you ask, a smirk on your face.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky exhales, looking at the both of you through his goggles. 

“What’s your play here?” Sam calls out loudly.

“Was gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of the Tower.”

“After the ‘A’?”

“After the ‘A’,” you confirm. 

“Now that’s too small,” Sam tutted. “You gotta think bigger. Paint the whole Tower.” 

“Sam!” Bucky looks horrified. 

“Hmm.” You look like you’re considering it. “Don’t have enough paint for that though.”

“You’re an evil genius, right?” Sam casts a small glance at Bucky. “At least that’s what he tells me.”

“You talk about me?” You grin at the disgruntled man on the ground. 

“I don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. A lie.

“Yeah, so build something,” Sam points out. “Get some more paint. I’ll even tell you the best vantage points to spill it.”

“No, he won’t,” Bucky shouts from below. 

“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his prune juice this morning, ignore him,” Sam dismisses him.

Prune juice? He was a young 100, not ancient. 

“What’s your favourite colour, Falcon?”

“I like red.”

As annoyed as Bucky is right now, he stores that away in his memory for later. He also knows Sam loves seafood and a good pair of shoes. 

“A couple of gallons of red paint it is, then.” You lower yourself to the ground, Sam slowly follows suit until he lands beside Bucky.

“You know we can’t let you go without taking those, right?” Bucky tilts his head towards your invention.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t budge.

“I’ll tell ya what,” Sam pipes in instead. “I’ll keep them until you finish getting the paint and once you’re done, we’ll make an evening out of vandalising the Tower.” 

Bucky may not enjoy his company all that much but he admires Sam’s diplomacy. Of course, you would never make it this easy while reasoning with him.

“That a promise, Mr. Wilson?” You raise your eyebrow at him questioningly but are already in the process of removing the things from your hand. 

“Wouldn’t ever lie to you, doll.” He holds up his hand in a mock swear.

You walk towards Bucky and him, rotating your wrists to get rid of the soreness. “Bold claim for a man who met me ten minutes ago.”

“Feels like it’s been longer.” He sends you a wink and you can’t stop the laugh the escapes from you finally. 

Bucky holds his hand out for the gadgets. You shrink away from him with a click of your tongue.

“Technically, he takes this round.” You send a nod towards Sam, dropping off the repulsors into his hand. “So he gets it.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“You gonna keep ‘em safe?” you ask Sam, this time a little more earnestly. 

“Guard it with my life,” he says seriously, pressing his lips together in a line to avoid smiling. 

“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky cuts in.

“You’re going to be late.” Sam tucks the devices into his pocket safely. “You know how Steve gets when people walk in on his speeches. Do you even have a ride?”

“Got the motorcycle.” 

“See you there.” Sam nods. 

“Save me a place,” Bucky says to him.

“No.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Y/N. It was a pleasure.”

“Still holding you to that evening, Sam.” You send him a smile.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He gives you a small three finger salute before taking off, leaving you staring after his retracting figure. 

When the dust settles, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. So that was that.”

“Dude,” you let out an exhale. “he’s so hot.”

He murmurs something unintelligible. It vaguely sounds like a series of threats but mostly a list of complaints.

“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” You turn your attention back to him.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you going to be late?” You glance at the clock on your phone.

“I’ll just tell them I was on a mission.” Well, sort of. “Besides, what are they gonna do? Kick me out?”

“Fair enough.” You shrug. “Have a safe ride back.”

From what he knows of you and Sam, the both of you were kidding around. But he could never be too sure. He can’t even ask if you were serious about the entire thing because it’s none of his business. 

Were the implications of having his mortal nemesis and other mortal nemesis date important enough to overrule that? 

“Are you planning to skip your meeting, or?” you ask when he remains freezes in his spot, eyes glazed over like he’s thinking about something. “Because if you are, I know this great Thai place-”

“Don’t do that again,” he says instead, shaking his head to jolt him out of his thoughts. 

“What?”

“Flinging yourself off roofs like that.”

“Why?” Because it scared the hell out of him, for one.

“Just don’t.”

“Oh please, like you’ve never done dangerous shit like that before.” You narrow your eyes at him, reading his face. “Are you telling me you care about me?”

“No.” His nose twitches. “Just don’t throw yourself off buildings when I’m around.”

“What about when you’re not?”

“As long as I’m not there to witness it.” He shrugs, spinning on his heel to leave. Technically he preferred if you didn’t do things like that at all. 

“Fine. I’ll just have my clone try out all the dangerous stuff for me.”

 He stops in his tracks. “You have a clone?”

“Well,” You squint, “no. But I’m working on it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Bye Y/N.”

“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you’re saying we’re friends.” Your whole demeanour changes and he already knows what’s coming.

“I never said that,” he argues vehemently. “All I said was that I can’t have your murder on my hands.”

“Thus implying that we’re friends. In a fucked up, enemies kind of way.” You positively beam at him. “Aw, Barnes, that’s adorable.”

Adorable? Adorable?

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too, bestie,” you gush, dumb grin on your face. “I’ll make us friendship rings next time. What are your thoughts on matching tattoos?”

He wants to cry. 

______

By the time Sam walks into the meeting room, the session’s already begun. He shoots an apologetic look to a monologuing Steve before taking his place at the nearest chair available. 

Something sharp pokes his thigh. His wings are off and in the backpack beside him, but then he remembers your little inventions that were still in his pocket.

He tries not to make much of a noise while he pulls them out, giving them a look over to make sure they’re not broken.

“Watcha got there, Big Bird?” Tony asks lowly from beside him.

“Something that Barnes’ enemy made.” Sam holds it up slightly. 

“The one he’s been rendezvousing around town with every weekend?” 

“That’s her.” He’s about to put it in his backpack when Tony stops him.

“Pass that here for a second.” He recognises it immediately for what it is, interest piqued. 

Sam hands one of them over while he puts the other back in the bag. It’s a metallic circle, not bigger than Tony’s palm, with a thick leather strap to tie it around your palm.

“She made this?” 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sam mentions towards Bucky who silently slips into the conference room, standing in the corner near the potted plant since there were no more chairs left.

“The balance has gotta be off on this thing,” he mutters to himself, wholly ignoring the brooding man standing in the corner like a Christmas tree.

“She seemed to be manoeuvring it fine,” Sam catches the eye of a lower ranking agent who makes the mistake of glaring at him for talking while the meeting was going on. A few seconds later the agent hastily looks away and doesn’t turn around for the rest of the hour. 

“Could be better.” He uses a much more intricate model for his suits, although this isn’t even half-bad for a homemade version. “Do you know how long she took to make this?”

“Buck says she comes up with a new one every week, so I’m guessing that long.” 

It had a few glitches but it was incredibly refined for a week’s worth of work.

“Interesting.” He gives it a quick overlook before handing it back to Sam who drops it into the bag.

He casts a swift glance at Bucky, noting how he wasn’t even paying attention to the meeting but rather to whatever he had tied around his metal wrist, fidgeting with it with his thumb. 

Tony has an idea. 

And that was generally bad news.

Next part

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

heated, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: An (innocent?) conversation about D/s dynamics accidentally leads to you confessing that you think about your childhood best friend while getting off. To your childhood best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Erm. This is after he told you that you would be “an awful sub”, btw.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, discussions about adult topics; reader is bisexual; smut (fem reader, dry humping, fingering, [tiny bit] m-receiving oral, penetrative sex); fluffy af; non-idol!AU; F2L; softdom!Jungkook x softbrat!reader; you kind of have a forearm kink and you never let Jungkook have his lovey-dovey moment, whoops

MMA 2020 ‘ON’ Jungkook? Yeah. That one.

--

“I could never be a sub.”

You clicked rapidly as you spoke, mashing the right button on your mouse. It was quite loud, paired with your mechanical keyboard.

“Why not?”

The music coming from Jeon Jungkook’s smartphone was a rhythm game, nearly as loud as you, since he was grunting angrily at it. It was very obvious when he missed a beat.

“I can’t imagine that being me, you know?”

You, on the other hand, were on your computer, playing with the new items in League of Legends from the latest patch. Using the practice tool, you had loaded up your favorite champion, Jhin, the Virtuoso, and messed with various builds, trying to find the best combination. So far, Lethality was feeling pretty good.

“Like why would I ever let my pleasure be handled by someone else?” you mused, reading the high damage numbers of each shot. Oh, the fourth shot felt nice. “That sounds stupid.”

Jungkook rolled over on your bed, growling in his throat as the level ended. He restarted it, trying to get a better score. “Maybe people like to let go sometimes. You know, not always be in control.”

You snorted. “I could never trust someone else with my body.”

“You got an alien body or something?”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

“Anyway,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your outburst. “I didn’t ask if you could be a sub, I just asked what you thought of domination and submission as a dynamic in general.”

You shrugged, trying to see if you could do Baron alone. Welp, you needed lifesteal, of course. “I mean, I’ve tried it in various situations. I was never the sub.”

“Kinky.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.” Jungkook suddenly sat up, excited that he achieved a higher score. “Look, look. I got ninety-eight.”

You craned your head to look at his phone screen. “Why isn’t it one hundred? You’re a disgrace to this family.”

He bopped you on the nose with his phone. “If I was part of your family, your family would be even more dysfunctional than it is now.”

You rubbed your nose and looked up at him. “How much gel did you use in your hair? You look like a wet dog.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows went up and he touched his long black hair. “It’s not crunchy though.” He grabbed your hand and lowered his head, placing your palm on his slicked back hair. “See?”

You pulled your hand back, staring at your palm. “Still feels weird though. I call sorcery.”

He shrugged, creaking the black leather jacket he was wearing. He wore a black t-shirt under it. The black jeans he had been wearing were on your bed, swapped for the black joggers he kept at your place. You weren’t really sure why he left the jacket on. Maybe he was cold or something. It was pretty cold in your apartment. You were wearing fleece green pajamas with Pikachu all over them.

“You want me to turn the heat up?” you said, gesturing to his jacket.

Jungkook looked down at his chest. “Eh. It’s fine. Saves you money.”

You shrugged, getting up from your chair, leaving the League client open. “You’re only staying a little while, right? Party to go to and all that?”

Jungkook followed you as you left your room. “Told you it was cancelled, so I was just going to sleep over. No reason to go back home.”

You turned around, walking backwards. “When did you say it was cancelled?”

Jungkook raised his dark eyebrows. “Literally when I walked in your apartment.”

“Hah.”

You turned back around and went to your fridge, grabbing an aloe juice. Jungkook went to your water kettle, hunting for hot chocolate among your tea packets.

“You’d make an awful sub anyway,” Jungkook said, returning to the original subject as he filled the kettle with water from your filtered sink faucet. “Like, probably the fucking worst.”

You took a large swig and glared at him. “Alright, first of all, you wouldn’t even–”

“You’re terrible with authority.”

You paused. “Okay, true.”

“You’re angry, twenty-four, seven.”

You walked up to him and slapped him in his very hard pecs. He gestured at his chest, as if to indicate, exhibit A.

“And you’re super uptight.”

“I am not uptight.”

“Control freak.”

“That’s–”

Jungkook turned around and placed the kettle on its stand. You swooped in with a Pikachu-themed kitchen towel and wiped the excess water away, scowling. Jungkook raised his eyebrows at you, brown eyes laughing.

“That’s literally a safety hazard!” you exclaimed, waving the towel at him.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and pressed the button to start heating the water. “Haven’t you ever just… not freaked out over every little thing? Done something spontaneous and stupid?”

You placed the kitchen towel back in its proper place. “No, because that would be spontaneous and stupid, Jeon Jungkook.”

He leaned against the counter, watching you perfectly fold the towel into three parts and hang it on the rail. He scratched his nose, shaking his head. “You should be more like me.”

“Having the police called on you because you were standing on a lawn chair tooting a party horn at four in the morning?”

“That was one time! Stop bringing it up,” Jungkook groaned.

You raised your hands in innocence. “Well, I was the one called to pick you up because you literally couldn’t remember any other number and I was very disturbed on New Year’s Eve, where I should have been peacefully sleeping and not hauling your drunk ass across town.”

Jungkook sighed exaggeratedly. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t drink that much again. Jimin made me do shots–”

“You always blame Park Jimin,” you interjected, smiling. “Jimin’s the kind of guy who only wears clothes to take them off.”

“Well, it gets him laid, so I guess it’s working.”

The kettle whistled noisily, cutting through the conversation. You took a sip from your aloe juice as Jungkook grabbed a mug from your cupboard and poured the hot chocolate powder into it.

“You want some milk?”

He looked up. “You have milk?”

You went to the fridge and took out a small carton. “Because you said you were coming.”

“Aw, what a sweetie.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.”

That’s how it was with you two. Growing up together was the same conversation over and over of you constantly saying shut up and Jungkook always replying with no. If both your dads hadn’t been such good friends, you probably wouldn’t have been able to tolerate him. Since they were, you were forced to, which turned out to be okay, since it turned out you had similar interests in games and such. It drifted apart a bit when you two entered high school, but you two reconnected once university started.

The dysfunctionality Jungkook was referring to was your two older sisters, who both got pregnant out of wedlock and thus caused a lot of tension between them, your parents, and you, the one who hadn’t actually done that yet. And you were trying to keep it that way.

Jungkook poured half-water and half-milk, stirring it with a silver spoon he found in your drawer. You lived alone, having gotten a full scholarship to be able to pay for tuition, meals, and part of a small apartment. Your parents paid for the rest – another point of strain between you and your sisters. That’s why you kept your grades up and rarely went out.

“When was the last time you fucked a guy?”

You sucked the inside of your cheek. “Dunno. Maybe two years ago.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows and took a long sip. “So, only girls, huh?”

You tilted your head and sighed. “They don’t get you pregnant.”

“Neither does a condom.”

“That’s a ninety-eight percent chance, not one hundred.”

He licked the excess off his pink lips. He looked like he wanted to say something, but reconsidered, taking another sip before replying. “You don’t miss dick?”

“I mean, a dildo is a dick.”

Jungkook nearly spat out his hot chocolate. You snatched your Pikachu towel again and threatened him with it. He raised a hand, coughing.

“A dildo is not a dick,” he hacked out. “You insult me.”

“Hmph.” You turned back around and placed the Pikachu towel back in its place, making sure the graphic was perfectly centered.

“You tell your parents?”

You narrowed your eyes. ‘Why the fuck would I tell my parents that I fuck girls instead of guys to avoid getting pregnant?”

He shrugged. “Give them peace of mind?”

“You think too highly of the generation before us.”

Jungkook gave you a weird look. “So… you’re just using them?”

“No.” You paused. “Okay, maybe a little, but it’s not because they’re girls. I guess I haven’t found someone who understands me yet.”

He took a long, noisy sip of hot chocolate. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“No one can understand you if you only fuck once and drop them.”

“Wouldn’t you fucking know,” you replied irritably.

“Now, I fuck multiple times before I realize it’s not going to work out,” Jungkook countered.

You shoved your bottle of aloe juice back into your fridge. Suddenly, you weren’t thirsty anymore.

“Is that the only reason?”

You closed the fridge door.

“Reason for what?”

“Is fear of pregnancy the only reason you fuck girls?”

“I don’t know!” you shouted, throwing your hands up. You spun around, blowing hot air. “I don’t fucking know why I do it, Jungkook. I don’t know why I load up dating apps to only hook up with girls, I don’t know why I don’t try to get into relationships with them, I don’t know what is wrong with me and why I can’t give anyone a chance and I don’t know why you pop up in my head every time I try to fucking masturbate! It is annoying and I do not like it, so I try to get off with someone else!”

Your chest was heaving with exertion and annoyance, hand curled onto a fist and planted on your kitchen counter, glaring at the space past Jungkook’s head, muscle twitching in your cheek. Your heart was beating so fast it didn’t feel real.

Silence.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.”

And then you turned around, stalking back to your bedroom.

Or would have, if you didn’t hear the clink of the mug touching the kitchen counter and Jungkook grabbing your upper arm, yanking you back, slamming you against his muscular body. You hissed, staring into his chest.

“Let me go.”

“Hold on a second.” You watched Jungkook take a deep breath, his toned, tan skin rising and falling. The silver necklace on his collarbones flashed as he breathed. “Just hold on a damn second.”

Your eyes were on the low neckline of his black shirt. It felt weird being close to him. Not that you two haven’t been physically close, because you had. But it had never been like this. Since you realized he wouldn’t leave your mind every time you tried to masturbate. Since you started looking to other people to push him out. Since you were sure that it was not just a passing thought, not just your brain playing tricks on you. And being this close to him now, you understood.

And it scared you.

“You cannot dump all that on me and expect me not to react,” Jungkook said quietly.

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No,” he snapped. He grabbed both your upper arms and shook you violently, making you jerk your head up to blink at him. Jungkook furrowed his brows, his dark eyes glaring at you, jaw clenched tightly. “I will not shut up. Why should I shut up? I should shut you up.”

And then he kissed you.

Your eyes widened. Jungkook’s pink lips were on you. You. On your lips, pressed firmly against them, gripping you so tight you were losing feeling in your arms. You tore back, stumbling, touching your lips, shoulders shaking, not sure why your heart was beating out of your chest, not sure why your lips tingled and wanted more, not sure why Jungkook slowly opening his eyes and flickering to you made your knees knock together uncomfortably.

“What are you doing?” you sputtered. “You don’t even… what…?”

“I’m kissing you,” he growled, walking up to you and pinning you against the counter. “I’m fucking kissing you because you want me to.”

“I don’t…”

“Just shut up, please.”

And then Jungkook kissed you again, harder this time, pressing you against the kitchen counter, hands coming up and taking you by the waist, pulling you to him and his leather jacket, him and his black shirt, breathing your name into your lips, your hands grabbing his t-shirt and yanking him to you, gasping into his mouth. And you wanted to say, no, no, you weren’t supposed to know, but it was too late because you were shoving his leather jacket off, grasping his shoulders, fingers pressing into his hard muscles, sliding down his biceps.

You yanked your head back and his hand came up to grab it back, kissing you more, more, tongue licking your lips, hissing your name, grinding his hips against yours. Your hand came up in between you two, stopping him, stopping him and his insatiable lips.

“You have to s-say–” You moaned, feeling him harden against your fleece pajamas. “You have to say it.”

“Say what?” Jungkook muttered impatiently, kissing your hand, speaking into your palm.

“Say you’re okay with it,” you gritted out as he rolled his crotch into yours.

“Obviously I’m okay with it,” he grumbled. “Why else am I humping you in your kitchen?”

“You said I’m a c-control freak,” you groaned, throwing your head back as Jungkook slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed it, grinding against you.

“You are,” he grunted. “You can’t let go, you can’t enjoy yourself, you can’t even tell me you like me so I can fucking fuck you already, instead of me cancelling my parties so I can spend time laying on your bed and staring at you playing video games wondering when you’re going to fucking notice that I want to bang you.”

“What?” you replied breathlessly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “You’re so busy controlling your own life that you don’t even notice the people around you anymore.”

“What?” you repeated again as Jungkook hoisted you up by your ass and began to walk, forcing you to grab him by the shoulders and stare down his right arm, the fully tattooed one with flowers and script and the tiny circle with angry slits for eyes and a frown on the inside of his elbow, the one Jungkook said was for you and you had slapped him in the chest and told him to shut up.

“Let me take over for once,” he mumbled, placing his chin on your shoulder and nudging you with his head and his non-crispy but still not quite soft dark hair.

“You said I would be an awful sub.”

Jungkook dumped you on the bed, shooing you upwards. You didn’t move, frowning at him. He sighed dramatically.

“You would. You are,” he corrected, planting a hand on your chest and pushing you down, bouncing you against your Pikachu bedsheets. He sandwiched your arms at your sides and straddled your torso. The bed bowed far too low and you almost slid off. Hurriedly, you scooted upwards and Jungkook followed, unbothered.

“You said I’m terrible with authority.”

Jungkook wrestled your arms back down and pinned them with his strong thighs. “You are.”

“You said I’m angry, twenty-four, seven.”

He cocked his head, slowly unbuttoning your pajama shirt. “Still true.”

“And you said I’m uptight,” you added ruefully, pouting.

Jungkook shrugged, reaching in between his legs to unbutton he last few ones. “I’ll fuck it out of you.”

“Jungkook!”

“What?”

He paused, towering above you, eyebrow raised. His black hair curled around his ears, against his silver hoops and base of his neck. His dark eyes pierced down at you, tiny mole under his lips clearly visible from this position. You could see the bottom of his sharp chin, the black t-shirt clinging to his chest, the shape of his tan arms, one tattooed, one not, from below.

“Y-you’re pinching my right arm…”

Jungkook looked down, moving his left leg. “Sorry.”

You winced, pulling out your left arm to rub the other. He tapped your forearm impatiently with his finger.

“You’re ruining the moment,” he scolded.

“You ruined it by bruising me,” you shot back, backing up to your pillows on your elbows, grimacing as you soothed your arm.

“I’m going to bruise you more if you keep being a little brat,” Jungkook growled, following you on hands and knees, the neckline of his t-shirt hanging down, revealing way too much of his skin. Your eyes widened and you slipped, a white plush Poro bonking you in the head. He grabbed it and tossed it aside, the poor guy rolling on the floor.

“That’s very rude,” you muttered, but he was over your body now, breathing hard, staring down your now open shirt and the curve of your breasts into your black bra.

“Why do you get hotter every year?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I… don’t?”

Jungkook shoved the sides of your pajama shirt apart impatiently, reaching under your back and pinching the bra clasp, undoing it with one hand.

“Yes, you do,” he exhaled hotly. “Every year you get prettier and prettier and it pisses me off so much that I have to work out to look half as good as you.”

You felt your ears and cheeks get hot. “Well… you do look very, erm, good.”

“You’re very convincing,” Jungkook chuckled darkly, pushing your bra up and sucking in his lower lip as he revealed your hard, quivering nipples.

Your eyes shifted away from his hungry eyes. “I, uh… am very wet.”

A single, perfectly shaped eyebrow ticked. “Show me.”

“Um…”

He lifted himself off you, pointing down.

“Show me,” Jungkook commanded.

You tried to move your arms and found them tangled in your clothes. You frowned and shrugged out of your pajama shirt, chucking it and your bra aside, before gripping the waistband of your green fleece pants. You hesitated and looked back at Jungkook, who just flapped his hand downwards, giving you a neutral expression.

You puffed your cheeks and raised your hips, yanking your pants and panties down your thighs. You had to bend your legs a bit to fully take them off since Jungkook’s knees were on the outside of your thighs.

Now you were fully naked in front of your childhood best friend. And he was still fully clothed.

“Er, aren’t you going to–”

Jungkook cut you off. “You still haven’t shown me.”

You blinked at him. “What do you want me to do, become a fucking pretzel?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Any way you can prove to me you’re wet.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Fucking…” You bent your right leg and slid it up between his thighs, brushing against his sweatpants and feeling his hard-on for a hot second before you jammed your leg into your chest and lifted it out, pressing your thigh against your torso and raising your calf into the air. You turned your head to the left, letting out an exasperated huff.

“There. You see it?”

Shit, this position was embarrassing for some reason. You could feel cold air on your dripping pussy. Maybe he couldn’t see or something. You lifted your right arm to wrap around your thigh, pressing it down against your breasts since Jungkook wasn’t saying anything.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jungkook breathed.

“Okay, going to put my leg do–”

You gasped, suddenly feeling Jungkook’s fingertips touch your heated core, smearing your juices around the lips, his hot breath against your ear as he touched you. You shuddered as he stroked your folds, your name on his lips, his lips kissing your ear.

“Had to touch you,” he whispered against your neck, tone desperate. “I’m sorry, I just had to touch that beautiful pussy, all wet and slopping for me.”

Your eyelids fluttered as his middle finger found your clit, pressing on it. “J-Jungkook… That’s my…”

He chuckled deep in his throat. “Yeah? That’s your what?”

Slow, lazy circles, pushing it around, moan leaving your lips. “My c-clit…”

“Want me to touch it?” Jungkook purred. “Want me to handle your pleasure?”

But he as already touching it, nursing the sensitive bundle of nerves and rousing your lust, igniting it and setting it on fire.

“Y-yes…”

He kissed down your neck, whispering softly, licking your collarbones. “You trust me? You trust me with this pretty, perfect, hot, sexy, fuckable body?”

You arched your neck, giving him more access as he ran his pink lips all over, rubbing your clit, mouth on your throat. Your whole body shook, hips rolling into his finger.

“Y-yes…”

His breath so electrifying that you could barely focus, barely speak as Jungkook’s other hand came up behind your head, long fingers burying into your hair, holding tight, so tight it almost hurt, teeth nipping at your skin.

“Want to mark you,” he mumbled. “Want to give you a big fat hickey you can’t explain, want to bruise you so bad you’ll be staring at it for weeks, thinking about my lips on you, remembering my teeth gave you that.”

He pressed another finger to your clit, increasing the pace, and all you could do was hiss out a yes, a burning yes, a pleading yes, please, Jungkook, whining as his teeth sank into the spot where your shoulder and neck connected, sucking hard, his tongue licking away the prickling pain. His hips rolled into your thigh, his hard cock pressing against you, straining against his pants.

Jungkook moaned into your skin, so hot, so intense, rubbing your aching clit faster, harder, more urgently. Sucking and humping your leg as the feeling of his teeth and his fingers overwhelmed you, one hand clutching his shirt and one hand curled into your sheets as your thighs shook, trying to close but unable to because Jungkook was so strong, so there, so overpowering that you could only lay there and take it, take it as his name poured out of you in a breathless wail, throwing your head back as you felt your pussy clench around nothing, your juices becoming slicker, thicker, the scent of your orgasm staining the air.

He shoved the two fingers inside you and unlatched his mouth, moaning with you as he felt you squeeze his fingers, pumping you in long, slow strokes, all the way to his knuckles. You whimpered, tightening your core and Jungkook moaned again, eyes closed, his hair in disarray as you fucked his hand, clamping your hands on his right forearm, gasping at the feel of his muscle. Pussy throbbing around his fingers, hips meeting his knuckles over and over.

His eyes opened, watching your fuck yourself with his hand, an almost bored expression on his features, but you didn’t care because you felt him flex his fingers and his arm, telling you to continue, telling you he liked it.

“I thought you were going to let me do it.” Jungkook’s voice was low, trying to stay even despite his shallow breathing. “Have to control everything, don’t you?”

You caught your lower lip in your teeth, eyes moving to his face, his handsome, angular face with his black hair curled around his forehead and his cocked eyebrow, smirk on his lips.

“I’m not in control,” you panted. “Your forearm is…”

Jungkook flexed it under your hand and you moaned pathetically, breath hitching.

His smirk grew wider.

“It’s getting you off touching it.”

You swallowed, close, so close and Jungkook was taunting you and for some reason you couldn’t tell him to shut up, because he kept tensing his arm and it was so fucking hot that you really were going to orgasm.

“Say it,” he purred, breathing your name. “Tell me you like my forearm.”

Your eyes shifted down to his arm in your hands, the tiny angry face tattoo in his inner elbow frowning at you.

“I fucking love it, Jungkook,” you gasped. “Fuck, I love your delicious, sexy-as-fuck forearms.”

He grinned and began to thrust his fingers into you, fast, so fast you couldn’t even fathom how he could be that fast like a fucking vibrator, sending torrents of pleasure through you and his arm was so hard and his skin so soft that your eyes rolled back into your head, moaning his name far too loud. Jungkook placed a hand over your mouth and you screamed into it, liquid gushing down your thighs, but he didn’t stop, he kept going until you felt it again, pussy throbbing, back-to-back, eyelids fluttering, nails digging into his arm as the crescendo slammed into you, taking your breath and senses away, lost only in the feeling of Jungkook’s secure presence above you.

He slowed, breathing hard. Gently, carefully pulling his fingers out of your pulsating pussy, gasping as he removed his hand. You vaguely heard Jungkook place his fingers in his mouth, sighing wantonly at your taste.

“You taste so good,” he whispered around his fingers. “Fuck, so sweet and thick and delicious.”

Your brain could not compute what the fuck was happening. Did Jungkook just give you three mind-blowing orgasms in a row after you exploded at him and admitted to thinking about him while masturbating?

Holy shit.

He pressed his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You swallowed thickly.

“Jungkook, do you, ah… want something too?” you asked quietly.

You heard him snicker. “If I take my clothes off, I’m going to want to put my dick in you.”

“… I’m cool with that.”

“I thought a dildo was the same as a dick?”

You cleared your throat. “Ah… Well, I didn’t think you’d want to put a dick in me.”

Jungkook laughed. “If I had five dicks, I’d put them all in you.”

“Erm… mathematically speaking, that doesn’t really work…”

“Shut up.”

Jungkook sat up, looking down at you with a smile. The same smile he always had, but a little different now, because he didn’t have to hide his attraction to you anymore.

“You really let me put it in you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “With a ninety-eight percent chance, only.”

His smile became mischievous. “That’s not one hundred percent.”

You puffed your cheeks.

“I’ll take the two percent chance for you and only you, Jungkook.”

He grinned and turned around, throwing himself to the end of the bed where his jeans were barely holding on. Fishing through the pockets, retrieving the foil packet from the back pocket. You blinked at him.

“How long has that been–”

Jungkook gave you a silencing look. “I bring a new one every time I come over, in hopes you become drunk enough to sit on my dick.”

You blinked at him. “What.” Not a question, just you stating it.

“Because you’re paranoid.”

You frowned. “I’m not–”

He launched himself over the bed and silenced you with a kiss, deep and longing. You leaned into it, breathing softly, tongue against his, pressing back against him. Jungkook drew back slowly, thumb on your cheek. Eyes looking into yours, careful and tender.

“I don’t want you to worry,” he said against your lips. “I’ll do anything you want. I know it’s not easy for you. I know you’re not ready for the million babies I want from you.”

“I can’t have a million babies. It’s not scientifically possible,” you interjected.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “Can you just let me have one romantic moment?”

“Erm, sorry.”

“You want me to have a damn vasectomy or something? Because I’ll fucking do it. That shit’s reversible.”

“No, that kind of requires more time and I’m pretty horny for your dick right now. Condom will do.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “You are a shitty sub.”

“I will do better after I’ve had the dick.”

Jungkook straightened and yanked his black t-shirt over his head. “No, you won’t.”

Your eyes roamed over his toned chest. Damn, he was ripped. Maybe he was insecure about you being hot or something, but you were certainly benefiting. “You never know?”

Jungkook sent you a pained look and pressed a hand to your chest, shoving you back into your bed. “I’ve known you way too long to believe those words coming out of your mouth.”

You were going to reply, but he ran his hand over your chest, inhaling sharply as he brushed against your nipples. He ran his fingers over them, squeezing a little. You whined, trying to get more, but Jungkook pressed his palm down on your breast, breathing hard.

“Listen, woman, I’m about to explode in my damn underwear. Stop sounding so sexy this instant.”

Your eyes found his, pupils blown wide, lips pursed, and jaw tight. Your lips parted a little, tongue peeking out, a soft moan of his name emitting from your throat. You saw a muscle in his eyebrow twitch. He looked like he wanted to throttle you, at least a little bit.

You grinned.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

“You are lucky you’re cute,” he muttered. “And lucky I want to be in this pussy more than I want to be alive.”

“Don’t you ne–”

Jungkook planted his hand on your mouth. “The only words I want to hear out of you are, “Fuck me harder” or my own name, you got that?” he snarled, pressing his hand into your face for emphasis.

You nodded quickly.

He sighed, almost in relief, and yanked his pants and underwear down, wincing. There was a large wet spot on his boxer briefs, strings of pre-cum clinging as he pushed it down his muscular thighs.

“You made me a giant mess,” he muttered, eyes flickering up to you. “What do you have to say?”

You blinked at him and gave him a thumbs up.

He grinned. “You do know how to listen.”

In truth, you couldn’t say anything because you were breathlessly staring at Jungkook’s thick cock, red head glistening with pre-cum, dripping everywhere. You slid down quickly, startling him, and wrapped your lips around the head, moaning as his strong taste invaded your mouth. He hissed, gritting his teeth as your tongue swiped around, licking his length all over, feeling the veins and contours, memorizing them.

“F-fuck,” he gasped. “You wanted to clean me up that bad?”

Your eyes traveled up his abs, his pecs, his neck, to his face, giving him your best imploring look. He smirked, placing a hand on your forehead, and gradually, with great effort, pulled out of your tight mouth. Tight because you sucked in your cheeks, not wanting to let him go, but Jungkook was stronger than you. You frowned, but he shooed you away.

“I allowed it this one time. Now back to your spot.”

You backed up, tsking as you watched him roll down the condom, groaning as it covered him.

“I’m actually glad I have this fucking condom,” Jungkook muttered, glaring at you.

You couldn’t say anything, so you spread your legs. His eyes dropped down and he bit his lower lip, crawling to you, grabbing your thighs. Placing himself right in front of your soaked entrance, staring down at your pussy as he guided himself, sinking into you.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut.

You moaned, feeling Jungkook’s cock stretch you out, so different from a silicone dildo or multiple fingers, because it was Jeon Jungkook praying for air as you clenched around his length, his cries of pleasure as he rocked his hips into you. Those long nights with your vibrator and his Instagram open on your phone were incomparable to his cock molding to your walls, his hard hips finally hitting your thighs, all the way in, and it was so good that you throbbed around him, shuddering.

“J-Jungkook…” you pleaded.

“I know,” he panted, hands gripping your knees tight. “I know, but give me a second to appreciate this pussy, holy fuck.”

He jerked his cock inside you and you cried out, definitely crushing your sheets, but Pikachu had seen a lot by now and there was only going to be more.

Jungkook finally began to slide out and push back in, groaning, starting slow and deep because quite frankly he needed to last more than five seconds and your pussy was not letting up. You had too much control over your vaginal muscles and he was too into you to not be hugely turned on by it, shoving your legs up higher so he could go deeper, feel more of you surround him and massage his length.

“H-harder…” you whimpered. “Please, Jungkook, fuck me harder…”

And how could Jungkook say no to that? Begging so perfectly, with just the right amount of desperation, and you didn’t even know it was driving him insane, because he knew normally you were so wound up, always worrying about being perfect, always worrying about doing the right thing, but now you were unraveling on his cock as he bent down and put more force into it, pounded you harder, watching the ecstasy in your eyes, your mouth opening and tongue peeking out, hot breath in his face. Knuckles white as you clutched the sheets, pleasure radiating up his length as you came with a cry, his name, his name on those perfect lips, lips he always watched with envy, wondering who had them, wondering who was so lucky to capture them.

And now it was just him, just him and you, and his hips slapping into your hips, pussy nearly choking his cock, but it felt so good, so fucking euphoric as you fucked him back, raising your hips to meet his, loud, wet, and lewd, probably causing a ruckus next door. But neither of you cared, your names mixing together, your eyes staring to Jungkook’s piercing brown ones, hot pleasure radiating up your stomach, your chest, to your head and there was no one else.

No one else but Jungkook’s name tumbling out of your mouth as the wave soared into you, pussy spasming as you came again, unsure at what number it was, but it was the one Jungkook wasn’t prepared for and he groaned, smacking into you one last time before you felt his cock throb and pulse against your walls, spilling into the condom. You gasped at the feeling, clenching around him, his right hand reaching over to grasp yours and hold it tightly, intertwining your fingers.

“W-wow…” you whispered breathlessly. “Nice cock.”

Jungkook burst out laughing. “You’re unbelievable.” He reached down and gingerly felt around in your dripping folds, finding the end of the condom and pulling out carefully.

“Fuck. It’s so much,” he gulped, brows knitted in worry.

You waved a hand. “It’s fine. I finished my period yesterday. Likelihood of you getting me pregnant is pretty low.”

Jungkook jerked his head towards you.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say that sooner?” he roared, slapping your leg. “I was scared shitless over here!”

You placed your hands over your ears. “So loud. Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No!”

--

masterpost

[jayfortheday]

Music Lessons (Chapter 2) (Eddie Munson)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Jock!M!Reader (romantic), Lucas Sinclair/Reader (platonic)

Word count: 1790

Description: Y/N gets ready to meet Eddie for his first guitar lesson

Tags: crushes, homophobic language, musician Eddie

~~~~~~~~~

The next day, you walked to school with a new air of excitement. You had something new to look forward to after school and you could barely think of anything else. You happily listened to your walkman on the bus. You had meant to go to the store yesterday to pick up some tapes, maybe something metal like Lucas said Eddie liked to play, but you didn’t have time. Instead, you were listening to a David Bowie album, which you couldn’t say you were upset about. 

Your first classes felt slow. This was just how they always felt. You had English, science, and history. After lunch, you would have gym, wood shop, and math. You weren’t particularly enthused about wood shop, but it was that or Home Ec, and you didn’t even want to imagine what people would say if you took Home Ec. English was a work day for a paper due in a couple of weeks, but you were ahead on the assignment, so you just took the time to relax. Science was continuing a lecture about covalent bonds you had started on Monday, which wasn’t uninteresting, just a little difficult to keep up with. History felt the longest, learning about King Charles the First wasn’t particularly exciting to you today. 

When the bell rang to end history and to usher you to lunch, you happily sprang up, your bag already packed and headed to the lunch room. You took your seat at your usual table. You were the second person to arrive. Chance had a class next door to the cafeteria, so he was usually the first to arrive. He gave you a friendly nod but focused on his food. You watched the door as people entered the cafeteria, on the lookout for one man in particular. A small smile pulled at your lips as you saw Eddie enter the cafeteria with his group of friends. They all congregated around him, eager to be in his presence, a sentiment you understood. 

Beside him, you saw Lucas, who waved a quick goodbye to the group before walking towards your table. He must have noticed your staring because you could see him laughing as he approached. 

“I wouldn’t say you’re the king of subtlety,” Lucas joked as he sat in the seat next to you. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled, a little embarrassed at having been caught staring. 

“You definitely look excited,” Lucas noticed, shifting the subject to something more relevant. You gave him a nod and let your gaze shift back to the other table. Eddie and his friends were happily chatting away, laughing at their own jokes. “Maybe sometime, you could join when I sit with them.”

Your eyes went wide and your face blushed as you turned to Lucas. You sputtered, not quite sure what to say.

“Doesn’t Eddie hate basketball players?” You pointed out, trying to subtly weasel your way out of sitting with your crush. 

“He talked to you easy enough,” Lucas argued, causing you to shrink a little in embarrassment. “I kinda took off my jacket when I talked to him so he wouldn’t know,” you said sheepishly. Lucas gave you a slightly annoyed expression.

“Come on, man. I just wanted a chance to talk without that being the only thing he saw me as,” you explained.  Lucas’s expression turned to one more understanding.

“Yeah, I guess I get it, Eddie definitely has…opinions,” Lucas hummed, glancing over to the other table. 

“I wish I could just talk to him without having to pretend, but I guess it’s not too bad,” you said. Talking to Eddie would be a lot harder if you were as well-known a player as Jason, but you often spent most of your time in the middle ranks of the team, so that wasn’t a concern. 

“I mean, I play too and me and Eddie are still friends. You won’t have to pretend the whole time,” Lucas pointed out. 

“Meh, you’re probably right,” you agreed, leaning back slightly in your seat. 

Suddenly, you felt Lucas grab a hold of your collar and pull you back to the table, bringing your head down below normal level. 

“Sinclair, what the hell?” You asked quietly, your tone annoyed. 

“You said you didn’t want Eddie to know you’re on the team yet, he was about to look over here,” Lucas explained, only releasing your collar when he saw Eddie look away from the table. You gave Lucas a thankful look as you straightened up. 

“Thank you, but I also appreciate not being suffocated by a 14-year-old,” you laughed, rubbing your neck despite feeling no pain.

You saw Jason looking at the pair of you quizzically. You gave him a shrug like you didn’t quite know what that was about, and went back to your food. 

“You’ll have to spill the beans tomorrow. I gotta leave early to get to class.” Lucas stood up from the table, grabbing his trash and slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

“See ya man,” you said as you waved at Lucas. You could feel Jason’s eyes boring into the side of your head, but you made no indication you noticed. 

“What’s happening?” Jason asked now that Lucas was out of the cafeteria. 

“Nothing special, just something me and my cousin are doing,” you responded, your expression blank. 

“Why would Lucas care about that?” Jason asked again. 

“Just drop it,” you said bluntly, standing up from the table. “You wouldn’t care anyway.” That was a lie, Jason absolutely would care. He would hate it. Under your annoyed exterior, you felt your stress levels rising. You knew you would be in deep shit if your friends found out. They would call you a faggot, or find some stupid reason to get you kicked off the basketball team. You didn’t want to risk even any suspicion. 

Your anxiety was high as you continued to your next class, and it stayed that way throughout the day. Part of it was the fun kind of anxiety, the nerves you get before doing something exciting, the other part of it was terrifying, the nerves you get when you’re scared someone will find out you’re doing something you shouldn’t be. The bell signaling the end of the day sent your heart fluttering as it rang. You quickly picked your bag up off the ground and took off towards the cafeteria. Your long legs carried you through the hallways as you moved against the flow of the crowd. You had already taken off your jacket in math, telling Jason you were hot when he looked at you with a quirked brow. 

You slid around the corner, entering the doors of the cafeteria with a bead of sweat beginning to form on your brow. When you looked up, you could see Eddie Munson sitting at his normal table. He held a magazine in his hands and his feet were propped up on the table, his ankles crossed. You took a deep breath and approached him. 

“Hey Munson,” you called out to him, doing your best to maintain an air of relaxed confidence. 

“Y/N,” Eddie greeted in response. “Figured I’d be waiting a bit.”

“Meh, my class is only a couple of doors down,” you lied, shrugging. You weren’t exactly trying to tell Eddie you ran to meet him like there was no tomorrow. 

Eddie gave you a small smile before taking his feet down from the table and standing up. Picking up his backpack from the floor, he placed the magazine inside and slung the bag over his shoulder. He began to walk out of the cafeteria, motioning his head for you to follow. You obliged, following about four feet behind. You were going to be taking music lessons from Eddie, but you had no idea what that would entail. Would you be going to his house? Your heart raced at the thought of being at Eddie’s house. What would it look like? Who did he live with? Maybe his mom and dad? Did he have pets?

Your racing thoughts of Eddie Munson were only interrupted when your chest ran into Eddie’s extended forearm. Your eyes widened and a blush crosses your face as you looked up. When your eyes actually focused on your surroundings, you noticed you were about two steps from walking into the window beside the exterior doors. Eddie had held out his arm to stop you from banging into the glass. 

“Bit distracted today?” Eddie giggled, letting his arms drop back to his side. 

“Just, uh, lost in thought,” you responded, doing your best to play it off. Eddie’s eyebrow quirked, but not in the meanspirited way Jason might, but rather a more playful one. 

“Come on,” Eddie sighed with a smile. Stepping aside to let you get back on the correct path. You stepped out through the door, then wait for Eddie just outside, leaning against the brick. As Eddie stepped through the door, his eyes crinkled in the sunlight. The rays bounced off his dark brown curls, shining in a way you had never really seen before. You stood captivated as Eddie took a second to adjust to the light. Eddie shook out his curls a little, bringing you back to reality. Eddie began to walk down the steps toward the parking lot and you followed close behind. 

Eddie’s van was the only one left in the lot, standing lonely in the shade of a tree on the edge of the asphalt. Eddie jogged up to it, not so subtly trying to beat you to the car. He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the back door, opening them only enough to slip inside before closing them again. You paused your steps around five feet from the van, waiting for Eddie to reemerge. You could hear the faint sounds of movement from inside before Eddie flung the doors open again. 

The inside was cleaner than you expected, but even from where you were standing, you could smell weed. You walked closer to inspect a bit further. Inside were two black milk crates, which appeared to be makeshift chairs. Leaned against the back of the car’s actual seats were two guitars. One was a simpler one with a white finish while the other was black and decorated with various designs that appeared to be hand-drawn. There were a couple of books by one of the crates and a closed bag resting under the other. 

Eddie had taken a seat on the milk crate near the books and had picked up the black guitar. He fiddled with the strings before shaking his head and setting it in his lap. 

“Well, what are ya waiting for?” Eddie called to you. “Hop on up.”

Next Chapter

[eleni-cherie]

8 mile ✨ || myg au - chapter 0.2

"Thanks to you I could make my dream come true."

first time yoongi laid eyes on soyeon was eight years ago, at a rap battle in a rundown club. how could they know the effect they would have on each other ever since?

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: musicians au, romcom, humour, fluff, angst, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

»»»

With a yawn Yoongi exited the elevator. Making his way down the corridor to his studio. It was quite early but he wanted to continue working on some songs today. Taking a sip from his water, he took a turn when seeing some people standing in the distance. One was Jay, along him another guy and a girl. She was much shorter and had short, dyed blond hair. That was all Yoongi could recognise. They were all facing a door, so he couldn't see any faces.

With a shrug, he entered the code to his door lock and stepped into his warm studio. After switching on the lights, he closed the door behind him and threw his jacket on the couch. He left the coffee cup on his desk, sitting down on his chair.

Today should be a good day. He had a dry hoodie and felt like inspiration was slowly taking his mind. He felt ready, yes. Today he would manage finishing the lyrics, so he could finally focus more on the melody again. He turned on his computer, seeing numerous new notifications popping up. With a sigh, he skimmed over them. Most being meeting invitations to discuss some projects he was working on with the rest of the team. Others were just reminders. And one from Jay.

"Subject: demos"

Right, he had almost forgotten. The new artist's demos. He was curious, to say the least. He had asked around some other colleagues and apparently their executive producer had been delighted about her. That was all he could find out from the office's gossip radar. It wasn't anything weird though. The executive producer might have been open and easy-going when it was about the music itself and artistic freedom, but when it came to business decisions he could be closed off. Too closed off for many employees' liking. He was a cool dude but at the end of the day, still a typical boss in many aspects.

With anticipation but not too high expectation he clicked on the file and let it start play. A piano melody starting playing, soon accompanied by a cello.

"it's kinda funny and it's kinda sad this mad world

faces around me are unfamiliar with their daily races going nowhere in particular-"

He stopped the track. Frowning. Hadn't Jay said she was a rapper? Maybe he had sent the wrong demos. After all the woman on this track was singing. And that quite well. Scratching his head, he continued with the next track. An upbeat melody suddenly starting playing. Definitely inspired by oldschool hiphop.

"'Told you, I'm the gem in this place, invest in me quickly The new kind of cripto currency You're only looking for the shiny things Couldn't find me, maybe I've changed?

You're rude, stop preteding to be nice and go away Don't be pretentious now Said you expected my success, liar That's absurd, don't pretend to be close and go away"

Now that was definitly rapping, not singing. And actually good rapping.

Had she also composed those melodies?

If this really was this new artist Jay had told him about, he was a little impressed. Not too much, but he still was. He could see potential in her work. Understanding why the executives wanted to sign her.

Still, what could she want from him?

A knock on his door disrupted his train of thoughts. Sometimes he wished he had a normal door without a security lock so he wouldn't have to always stay up whenever someone wanted something from him. But then again, it would make it easier for everyone to just burst in whenever they wanted, which would probably annoy him more.

"Oy, Yoongi. You're early today." Of course, it was none other than Jay greeting him with a grin, "But that's okay. She's already here as well." Confused, the boy pinched the bridge of his nose. "Who?" "The new artist. Didn't I tell you it'd be today?" He surprassed a groan. "Yeah, no, I knew it was today. But not that it'd be in the morning." With a sigh, he got up. It seemed he wouldn't be able to continue his work just yet. "Alright, let's get over this quickly." Almost dragging his feet, he followed his colleague to one of the conference rooms. Stopping in front of its door. "I figured out you'd want to talk to her without the executives." Yoongi smiled, patting Jay's shoulder. "You know me too well." The tall man let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "Talk with her and if you don't feel like working with her, just say so from the beginning. Don't expect me to do it again. Got it?" "Yeah, yeah," Yoongi mumbled, chuckling quietly. He placed a hand on the door, about to push it open when he stopped in his tracks. "By the way, what's her name?" Jay's eyes widened before knitting his brows. Clearly not remembering. "Wait, it was J-j- or was it Y-?" "Whatever," Yoongi muttered, shaking his head, "I'll just ask her myself." "Ask me what?" A sudden voice behind them made them wince in surprise. Yoongi looked over his shoulder, seeing the girl with the short blond hair now standing in front of him. With an arched brow and wide, brown eyes. "Ah, your name," the tall guy quickly responded, "He asked for your name. Right?" His gaze quickly switching to Yoongi for confirmation. However, he didn't say anything. Only stood there with a frown. Not saying anything. It felt like he was having some kind of déjà-vu. Unsure of what though. It was a blur. He saw the girl's lips curling up into a shy smile then. Her features softening. "Soyeon. My name's Soyeon." »»»

next chapter: here

[javier-pena]

triumvirate

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Word Count: 13.7k (I know, I know ...)

Rating: Explicit (and I mean explicit, this is the most explicit thing I’ve ever written)

Summary: You and Javi have been talking about inviting someone into your bed, just to see what it would be like. But you had no idea he already has someone in mind.

Warnings: mentions of food and alcohol | some language | threesome (f/f/m) | thigh riding | fingering | oral (m and f receiving) | light choking | light dirty talk | unprotected (p in v) sex | praise kink if you squint | size kink if you squint | orgasm delay/denial | sub!Javi until he’s definitely not | multiple orgasms | creampie

Notes: This started as a brief conversation I had with Dani @javierpcna while making a gifset actually, and it turned into this huge fic involving a character that doesn’t even speak a single line of dialogue (yes, this is Katie, the woman from the elevator in s3e1, the one who looks at Javi ... respectfully). I actually don’t remember the last time I had this much fun writing anything, so I guess I will be writing more Javi fics in future ... also, as always, huge thanks to Dani for putting up with my crazy ideas for a week, for encouraging me, for sacrificing a Sunday evening to read this, and for kindling the flames that brought this on in the first place! Also I believe Javi doesn’t share but he can be a bit ooc - as a treat ...

***

Javi doesn’t like to talk about his work. He doesn’t like to “bring it home” with him, even though the word “home” is all relative to him. He keeps quiet about it when you’re at his flat, that’s sacred ground to him, but your flat is fine. So when he’s at your place, he sometimes talks about his colleagues, the paperwork he needs to finish, how his boss got on his nerves today. You know there is much he could tell you, a lot he doesn’t share on purpose, and some things he never mentions because he’s not proud of them.

At first, you are worried because he doesn’t let you in. You aren’t used to having someone in your life who keeps so much hidden from you, especially someone you slowly, over time, start to share everything with, from a cup of coffee over breakfast, over a cigarette during a hasty lunch break, to sighs and moans, joined hands and heartbeats under the cover of the night. Especially someone you slowly but surely find yourself falling in love with, someone you want to share your life with, but also someone who doesn’t seem to feel the same way, who keeps a part of himself hidden behind tailored suits and starched shirts. It makes you nervous and wary when he never answers your questions, it hurts you when he changes the subject, sometimes quite cruelly, but over time you begin to see this arrangement as something enjoyable.

In all your previous relationships, you’d mostly talked about work, discussed your day, asked boring questions to get boring answers from your partner. Maybe that is the reason why they never lasted – you were so preoccupied with involving each other in your professional lives that you never focused on the personal aspect of your relationships. But with Javi you’re forced to talk about something else, about anything else, books, movies, music, travels, that little dog you saw on the street today, how your mother is doing, the sock that has gotten lost in the dryer. And you love this about him, love how you’d gotten to know an entirely different version of him than most people know. Granted, he doesn’t watch a lot of movies and he doesn’t listen to a lot of music, he hardly ever has time to read, but he’s seen the world, he tells you stories you don’t bore of hearing repeatedly, while your fingers lay entwined on his broad chest, the warmth of his skin seeping into your body, his breath tickling your hand, while he talks, and you listen. Sometimes, on the rare occasion he cooks for you, he tells you about his childhood, about how his mother taught him to kill a chicken (“If you can eat it, you can kill it”), about how is father gave him his first beer to drink when he was eight (“It’ll make a man out of you”), about how his grandmother showed him which spices to use for what dish (“Never mix garlic and lemon juice, it’ll turn the garlic green”). It’s moments like these where you feel he trusts you. You don’t need him to give you a detailed rundown of his day, to tell you how badly his morning coffee tasted, how boring his meeting was, how much his colleagues annoyed him. Getting to know this personal side of him, the one you know he doesn’t usually share, that’s enough for you.

You trust him, and he trusts you.

His withdrawnness when it comes to his work is the reason you’re completely caught by surprise when you’re over at his place one cloudy Saturday afternoon for a late lunch and he mentions work. You’re the one cooking this time, a stew your grandmother taught you to make, and while you wait for it to finish simmering, you sit at his small kitchen table, lost in idle conversation. And no matter how idle those conversations get, talking to Javi is never boring, and that is one of the things you love about him. But when he does mention work – and nothing prompts it, no probing questions on your part about a torn shirt you find lying discarded on his couch, no need to share something with you out of weariness and frustration on his part – you are immediately snapping to attention. It’s infuriating how he does it, casually, while he fills a glass with tap water for you.

“There’s this girl at work,” he says, and your ears prick up at the word work, immediately on guard. He turns off the water but doesn’t turn to look at you when he continues. “I think … I think you would … like her.”

It’s so uncharacteristic of him to be this careful, almost flustered – is that a flush you see creeping up his neck? He’s usually very assured, he usually has no trouble making eye contact, he usually says what he needs to say with as little or as many words as he sees fit. So when he stammers and blushes like this, you can’t help but smile. You can guess, of course, what this is about. You’ve mentioned a few times that you miss your friends back home, that you sometimes feel lonely and wish you had more people to talk to. And he remembered, he listened to you and he remembered, which makes a warmth spread from your chest to your limbs, and the corners of your eyes crinkle with a soft smile.

“Is that so?” you ask teasingly.

He turns around and takes the two steps to close the distance between the sink and the table. You take the glass from him as soon as he stands in front of you.

“She’s … nice,” he tries to elaborate. He sits down next to you and takes your hand into his, his skin warm to the touch. His thumb brushes over your knuckles as he watches moisture gather on your glass. It is a hot day, and the windows of his small kitchen are open, allowing for the sounds of the city to drift in, to swirl around the two of you, to give you some background noise to the comfortable silence that sometimes settles between you. “She’s funny,” he continues finally. “Ambitious, too. Junior agent. You have a lot in common.”

That sounds more like the Javi you know; observant, good at reading people, good at making connections. He’s still not looking at you though; it feels like he’s asking you something big, something life-changing, not like he’s trying to help you find a friend.

“Yeah, she sounds nice,” you agree. You raise the glass with your free hand and take a sip of water. “I’d like to meet her.” And even if you shouldn’t get along, there is no harm done. But you feel like you will because Javi is very good at reading people and if he says that this woman is someone you would like to spend time with, you know you will.

“You would?” His head snaps up in surprise, and it makes you smile again. As if you could ever refuse him! And if he’d ask you to move to Antarctica with him, you wouldn’t hesitate. But you can understand his tentativeness because you haven’t technically told him that. Yes, Javi is easy to talk to, but not when it comes to feelings. Those conversations are reserved for the dead hours of the night, for when it feels like you two are the only people in the world, for when you both know you can open up to each other, be at your most vulnerable state without the other person taking advantage of it, of crushing it like a fallen leaf. And you haven’t had many of those conversations yet.

Still, your heart picks up speed at the thought of how he’s looking out for you, of how he met a woman at work and thought to himself that you maybe would like to be her friend, how he was nervous to bring it up because he thought he might have misread your needs. But if there is one thing Javi is brilliant at, the one thing no one else in your life has ever been able to do, it is reading your needs, interpreting them correctly, and then acting accordingly to them, doing everything he can to care for you and look out for you, sometimes even at the expense of his own needs. You wouldn’t be able to tell that about him by looking at him, by hearing how his acquaintances talk about him, but there is a soft side to this man, one you feel very protective of.

You nod with enthusiasm. “Sure, why not? If she’s as great as you say, then I don’t see why we wouldn’t be getting along.” You are very curious to meet this woman. He’s hardly given you any information about her, but still, she sparks your interest.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Good.” He also nods, but when he does it, there is an air of determination to it. It feels like you’ve just agreed to some big plan you don’t fully understand, not to having lunch with one of his colleagues. “Listen, there’s this work thing next Friday.” His voice gets lower with each word, so he pauses to clear his throat. “I think you should come along, meet everyone … officially. She’s also gonna be there, it’s a good opportunity …”

Now you can’t help but giggle. He squeezes your hand, and you squeeze back. “You’re very eager to introduce me to her, aren’t you?” you tease, but there is no malice in your words. You’re actually flattered he’s talking about introducing you to his colleagues, about bridging that divide between private and professional.

Your fondness for him gets lost in translation, and your words fall on different ears than they are intended for. “I’ve been telling everyone at work a lot about you –”

You cut him off with a firm kiss that elicits a low growl from his chest. “Javi, I’m already convinced, okay? No need to lie to me,” you whisper against his lips, your hand brushing against his rough cheek. He has to understand that he doesn’t need to pretend with you, that he can be his true self around you.

He lifts your entwined hands from the tabletop and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles. “I’m not lying.” You want to believe him, but there is a glint in his eyes when he looks up from your hand and locks his gaze to yours. It would be wise to be annoyed with him or tease him in turn, but you can’t help yourself. Every time those brown eyes land on you, you feel a pull towards him you cannot quite explain but also cannot ignore. You have to give in.

Still, you roll your eyes in a valiant attempt to keep up a semblance of dignity before pushing yourself off your chair and onto his lap. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck and you grip it and hold onto it as you carefully roll your hips under the pretense of finding a comfortable position. Both his hands immediately land on your sides and squeeze.

“Then let me give you something to tell them about,” you whisper, your lips right next to his ear, and nothing beats the feeling of pride rushing through you as he pushes his hips up, chasing a tiny bit of friction. You’re sure it’s basic instinct, something he can’t quite control, and you love nothing more than making him let go.

***

You thought you would be meeting Javi’s colleagues at a bar, but then you find yourself in front of a nice restaurant. It’s the only place in town that sells good burgers, or at least that’s what the man at your side tells you. You were planning on getting pleasantly drunk, not making conversation while trying to coordinate a knife and fork, but you think you’ll manage as long as you stick to your companion.  

But something about Javi feels off tonight. He nervously fixed his tie in your hallway mirror when he picked you up (usually he doesn’t care about the state of his tie’s knot), he didn’t talk to you much during the drive to the restaurant (usually he points out little details he notices about the city or takes this opportunity to compliment you), and now he keeps fiddling with the cuff of your blouse as he leads you up the stairs to the restaurant’s entrance.

You’re also nervous, mostly because you haven’t met any of the people you’re about to be introduced to, and you don’t know if you’ll have something in common with them or if you’ll spend your evening sitting alone in some dark corner nursing one fancy cocktail after the other. If there’s one thing you’re not good at, it’s going into a situation unprepared, and Javi did nothing to help you build up some expectations about what to expect from tonight. To be fair, you didn’t ask. You didn’t ask about the colleagues you’re about to meet, you didn’t ask where you were going to meet them, and you didn’t ask about the woman he is planning on introducing to you. The reason for your silence? You didn’t want to annoy him, show him just how insecure you are.

But you feel oh so apprehensive about this evening. Your positions are reversed now – suddenly it is you who thinks it might not be such a good idea to mix personal and private. You have no answer as to why you feel like this. It is just a dull sensation in the pit of your stomach that makes your hands feel cold even though it’s a hot, humid evening. It makes you want to turn to the man at your side and ask him to go home. But you won’t. Because despite the dread you’re feeling you’re kind of excited at the prospect of meeting this new colleague he mentioned to you. There is an air of mystery around her that intrigues you because he hasn’t talked about her since that afternoon almost a week ago. And you appreciate the gesture of him biting the bullet and mixing the two sides of the coin that is Javier Peña so you can find a friend.

Once you make it inside, Javi leads you to a group of people who are already standing together in a cluster. The introductions are over way too fast, and you don’t remember a single name. Most of the men you meet look the same to you – they’re wearing suits in different shades of blue and grey and brown, broad, colorful ties, and big smiles. You’re smiling too as you shake their hands, while Javi introduces you to them as his girlfriend, and you know he would because he told you he would, but it still makes you feel warm and tingly, and it cements your right to be here by his side. You’re pretty sure you keep smiling at him like a lovesick teenager, but you don’t care. He’s smiling too, keeping close to you, a hand at the small of your back or on your elbow, his chest always right behind you for you to fall back into should you seek comfort.

Sometimes, you feel him stiffen behind you when a few of his colleagues crack jokes about how you were able to tie down the elusive Javier Peña. He rolls his eyes at their remarks, but you laugh along. You know about his reputation, you know about his past relations with other women, but you don’t mind. Why should you? You also don’t mind his colleagues’ reactions – all you care about is that this feels right at the moment and you wouldn’t change it for anything. But you do understand a bit better why Javi was wary of you meeting his colleagues.

To your relief, there is enough to drink, and soon you find yourself standing at Javi’s side, a bottle of beer in your hand, while you listen to him talk to a man about ten years his senior. You don’t understand much of what they are saying – they’re using so many abbreviations it sounds like code – but Javi stands with his hip cocked to one side so he’s leaning close to you, and you enjoy feeling the ghostly shadow of him by your side. Since he doesn’t like to talk about his job, you enjoy seeing this relatively unknown aspect of him, this other man who’s like a stranger to you, who talks with so much confidence and poise that you cannot help but listen to his every word. And you understand why he seems to be so admired among his colleagues, why they were eager to shake his hand when you arrived, why they seek out his company, why they wave at him from the other side of the room. He’s good at what he does, competent, capable, he knows how to be in charge of a situation without obtruding, and you feel such a strong pull towards this side of him you have to take a big swig from your beer bottle to hide how much this is affecting you. The last thing you need is him teasing you about it.

But before your behavior exposes your desires, he suddenly moves away, and you’re pulled after him, not so much in motion but in attention. He’s spotted someone, a woman, and he’s leaning down to press a light kiss to her right cheek before turning to you.

“This is Katie,” he introduces her, and there’s something in the way he says those three words that makes you pause. You smile at her as you shake her hand, but then your gaze flickers back to Javi who suddenly looks at you like he did in his kitchen six days ago, unsure yet with an edge of something more, something you can’t fully grasp, and then you know.

This is the woman. This is this girl at work that he thinks you’re going to like.

You turn your attention back to her to look at her, to see what he’s seeing. She’s shorter than both you, with long, brown hair that she wears in open waves. You think she has a winning smile and kind eyes, and you immediately want to get to know her better. She compliments your blouse, she makes a joke about something Javi did at work the other day, she’s even holding a bottle of your favorite beer. She seems to be all Javi promised her to be.

Then why is he looking at you so nervously, like a small boy bringing home a teacher’s note?

Javi introduces you as his girlfriend, and Katie doesn’t miss a beat before she says, “Oh, he’s told me a lot about you,” with one of the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen.

“He has?” you ask. You’re not fishing for compliments. You’re genuinely surprised, since you hadn’t expected him to be sharing his private life with his colleagues, much like he doesn’t share his professional one with you. The thought of him talking about you with this woman who is standing in front of you, makes you smile. You decide to tease him about it. “You two spend a lot of time together then?”

Katie’s smile flickers, if only for a short second. “No, it’s not –,” she starts, but Javi interrupts her before she can finish.

“Katie likes fishing,” he says.

It catches you completely off-guard, as does the look on his face. He raises a hand and lets his fingers run over his lips, something he always does when he’s nervous, while he waits for your answer.

“I do,” Katie says with an enthusiastic nod.

You have no idea what’s going on, but you decide to play along. “I go fishing with my dad whenever I’m in the States,” you tell them.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Katie exclaims, and it should, by all means, sound like something she’s only saying to be polite, but it doesn’t. Instead, it sounds like she means it. “Where are you from?”

“North Carolina,” you answer. It’s something you don’t talk about often because it’s not interesting. If you were from California or New York, people would follow up this revelation with questions and stories of their own. But North Carolina? You always feel a bit embarrassed about mentioning it.

But Katie’s reply is something you haven’t heard before. “You don’t sound like you’re from North Carolina.”

Maybe you should be offended – you don’t know what she’s implying with this – but for some reason it just makes you laugh. “Thanks,” you say.

“No, oh my God,” she backtracks immediately, “I didn’t mean to offend you …”

“You didn’t,” you assure her with a dismissive wave of your hand. You glance at Javi then, and he’s following your conversation like a cop watching his partner interrogate a suspect, like he’s afraid of missing just one syllable of what you are saying. His whole body is rigid, his hands are balled into fists at his side, and his face is a mask of pure concentration. “So,” you start again, turning back to Katie, “what has he been telling you about me?”

Several tables have been put together to stand along three walls of one of the biggest rooms in the restaurant. As you sit down and skim the menu, Katie answers your question. Javi speaks of you differently than most of their colleagues speak about their wives or girlfriends. When he talks about you, it doesn’t feel like he would rather do anything else than spend time with you. Quite the opposite, in fact. It makes your face grow hot. You try to distract yourself by ordering your meal, by changing the subject (“So, tell me, Katie, where are you from?”), by watching Javi talk to a middle-aged woman next to him, by watching Javi make her smile.

Katie tells you everything you want to know, answers all your questions in great detail, but always turns the attention back to you. When you ask her about her favorite music, she asks you about yours. When you ask her about her family, she asks you about yours. When you ask her what made her take a job in Colombia, she asks you about how you came to be here. It is a dialogue, not a monologue. She tells you about her brothers back home, about how one is a bank manager while the other went into environmentalism. She tells you she’s always wanted to go to Europe, and she hopes her next DEA assignment will finally get her there. She also tells you about her work for the DEA, about how she spends most of her days in the office, but also about how Javi took her along on a raid recently.

And you realize Javi was right. You do like her. She’s pleasant company, she’s educated but not in that stuck-up way most of Javi’s colleagues are. When you admit that you have no idea who the current Attorney General is, she doesn’t look at you like you just said you enjoy drowning kittens. She just brushes it off and changes the subject. When you tell her about a book you’ve been reading, she takes a small notepad from her bag and jots down the title and author, telling you she’ll check it out. And you truly believe she will.

When you’ve finished most of the food on your plate, she excuses herself to go to the bathroom. You check your watch, surprised that it’s already this late. Your gaze wanders over to where Javi is now talking to two young men who hang on his every word. But he’s glancing at you, a question on his face. You mouth, “What?” but he just shrugs. If he’s still worried you won’t like Katie, he has no reason to. You’re having a very pleasant evening.

When Katie gets back, Javi glances between the two of you, running his finger over his lips again. You just smile at him and, with ease, pick up the conversation with Katie once more. Maybe you should talk to someone else for a change, but Katie doesn’t seem to be bored by your company either, so you have no desire to change anything about your current situation.

Towards the end of the night, you too find yourself in the bathroom. You’re tired, but pleasantly sated, yawning while you wash your hands. You can’t wait to curl up next to Javi tonight and tell him about how much you loved talking to Katie. But you’re also not quite ready for this night to be over yet.

When you step out of the bathroom, Javi is there, waiting for you in the cramped space of the dimly lit hallway. You jump, caught off-guard, but when he shoots you an awkward glance, you can’t help but giggle.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” he asks. He’s curling the fingers of his right hand into a tight fist and releases them again, over and over. It’s another one of his nervous ticks, one he does when he’s trying to relieve tension.

“Sure, what’s up?” you reply, trying to sound casual.

Javi looks nervous, so maybe you’ve fucked up. Maybe you did something or said something, and one of his colleagues saw or heard and complained to Javi about you. You swallow hard, trying to keep the smile on your face.

“Are you having fun?” he asks next.

“Yes, of course.”

“And the food?”

“Am I enjoying the food?” you try to clarify. “Sure.”

“And Katie? You like her?”

This makes you laugh. “Yes, I like her. What’s this about, Javi?”

He doesn’t reply, just shoots you a look, pregnant with meaning.

“What?” you ask, and finally stop smiling. “Do you want me to say I don’t like her?”

“No, no,” he says, too quickly. “I’m just –”

You interrupt him. “I know you’re nervous about me liking her, but you don’t have to be. She’s really nice.” He still doesn’t look convinced. “I’m gonna ask her if she wants to meet up for coffee.”

“There’s something …,” he starts before clearing his throat. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Do you want to get coffee with me?” you tease him.

“It’s about Katie,” he answers.

“Sure.”

He takes a deep breath and then breaks eye contact with you, focusing his attention on the wall behind you. “I would like to ask her to join us …,” he says very slowly, making sure you catch every word, “… in bed … tonight.”

Still, you’re not sure you’ve understood him correctly. “What?”

“Just if you want to,” he clarifies.

That doesn’t really answer your question, or any of the other, and there are a lot, but you don’t know where to begin. “Katie?” you say, trying to encompass everything you’re feeling with this single question.

You look past Javi to where she’s sitting, watching the people around her with interest. And then something drops – you’re not sure you’d call it a penny because it feels smaller than that, but you suddenly remember having talked about inviting someone into your bed to see what it would be like. The conversation happened a few weeks ago, after Javi had fucked you for what felt like hours. You had lost count of the number of orgasms you’ve had, but still he didn’t seem to be satisfied. You hadn’t thought much of it then. All you remember is agreeing to give it a try; your fucked-out brain would have agreed to anything. But you had no idea Javi already had someone in mind, you had no idea he’d brought it up thinking of Katie. And suddenly the tone he had used to talk about her in his kitchen a week ago sounds a lot different to you.

Javi’s silent, staring at you with his big, brown eyes, patiently waiting for an answer, while you’re trying to wrap your head around this proposition.

And your mind is racing. You did say yes to the idea of it when he asked you about it, but he just sprung this on you, and it’s so much more than an idea now, it’s a plan, one he’s fully prepared to set in motion. He’s talking about tonight, he’s talking about leaving here and taking her home with you and doing this … tonight. You haven’t been given a chance to prepare for this, you don’t know how you feel about it, how you’re supposed to feel, so you decide to try something.

“Would you like that?” you ask him.

He nods.

“Why her?” you want to know.

“I think she’s nice, pretty, …,” he answers with a non-committal shrug.

“I thought you wanted her to be my friend,” you remind him.

“Of course, I want that,” he’s quick to assure you. “I want you two to get along.”

You reach up to grab his tie then. “Javier, are you sure about this?” you ask with emphasis.

His eyes open wide at this. “Yes.”

You feel a familiar tingling between your legs at hearing his breath hitch. Before you let this go too far, you look over at Katie again and try to imagine her in bed between the two of you, but you can’t. You have no idea how you would even start thinking about this, so you focus on something else, something you’re familiar with, something steady: Javi.

“All right,” you agree. “But there’s some rules I want us to follow.”

“Is that a yes?” he asks and it sounds so incredulous you almost smile.

“Yes, just –”

But he crowds you against the wall, pushes you back against the bricks before you can finish the sentence.

“What –,” you start.

Then he kisses you in a way that’s meant for the privacy of your bedroom, not a public restaurant. You kiss him back tentatively because you don’t want to encourage him too much. He comes even closer, and you feel something brush against your leg.

A smirk spreads across your face. “Why didn’t you say something?” you ask between kisses.

“I am saying something,” he points out.

“Yeah, but sooner.”

He shrugs again, then goes in for another kiss. You hold him back.

“Javi, stop,” you say in a firm voice. “Just listen to me for a minute, okay?”

He nods.

“You have to ask her,” you insist. “I’m not doing it, all right?”

He nods.

“And I don’t …,” you lower your voice, “want you inside of her. Is that clear?”

He nods.

“I’ll be in charge,” you go on. “I’ll decide what we’re doing.”

The “fine” he gives you as an answer is accompanied by a deep rumbling in his chest.

“And she’s not staying over. I don’t care how late it gets, she’s leaving afterwards.” You feel like you need to set these boundaries if you want this to work.

“Can I take her home?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer.

He licks his lips. “Yeah, okay.”

***

You’re in the car. Javi is driving, you’re next to him, watching the lights of the city drift by. Your heartbeat is louder than the sound of the engine, you expect Katie to remark on it any second now, to ask if everything’s okay. But she doesn’t. She’s talking about a book she’s reading, one you’ve also read (and loved) but you can’t bring yourself to hold a conversation. Katie doesn’t pick up on the shift in atmosphere, and if she does, she doesn’t comment on it. But you feel like there’s a deadly snake resting between your feet, one that will bite if you make a single wrong move.

There is a difference between talking about inviting Katie home with you in a room full of people where it’s just a theoretical concept and actually doing it.

Javi agreed to be the one to ask her. But he’s kept quiet so far. All he did was offer Katie a ride home, which she accepted with a big smile on her face. You glance over at Javi as he’s driving, his face alternating between being aflame in golden lighting and hidden in complete darkness. You can see the tension in his facial expression by the way he furrows his brow, but when he glances over at you there is something in his gaze – reassurance, yes, but also an edge of something you can’t quite put your finger on. You tell yourself his eyes are only this dark because your environment is. And suddenly you don’t feel like you’re in danger anymore; suddenly you want to exploit this situation, exploit the power it gives you over him.

You turn around to look at Katie, who’s sitting in the seat behind Javi. She just ended a long explanation about a character’s motivation by saying, “… you know,” and you nod to signal you’ve been listening, even though you haven’t.

If Javi doesn’t want to bring it up, you have to. Because the more you think about it, the more you want to do this, and you don’t want to rely on a man who can’t make the first move.

“Katie, I was wondering …,” you start, and immediately Javi’s right hand leaves the wheel, and his fingers dig into your thigh. You inhale sharply at the sensation but continue, “… are you seeing anyone?” Javi loosens his hold on you but doesn’t let go completely.

Katie shakes her head, then bites her lip bottom lip. “You know,” she says then lowers her voice, “I actually had my eyes on …,” she nods at Javi, “but please don’t think –”

You interrupt her. “No, please, Katie, it’s fine.” You smile at the man next to you, who shakes his head ever so slightly. “I completely understand.”

“Yeah,” Katie sighs and shakes her head so her hair tumbles down over one shoulder. “There are actually a few broken hearts at the office.”

That makes you laugh, if only because Javi looks utterly miserable. “I think he’s secretly enjoying that,” you whisper in a conspiratorial tone of voice.

Javi makes a sound of warning, one that tells you to shut up.

“Javi, I’m kidding,” you say with a light laugh. It’s only half the truth. You know him. You know he enjoys the attention.

Katie, too, starts to apologize, but you interrupt her again.

“Please, you have nothing to apologize for, he can take it.” You wonder if you should press your luck, if you should rile him up a bit more, and you decide it’s the right thing to do. “Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy the attention, Javi. Broken hearts … women pining for you …”

Javi makes another sound of warning. “It’s not like that,” he says through gritted teeth.

“What’s it like then?” you challenge.

Katie interrupts your stand-off before Javi can reply. “You guys, this is me, actually,” she says, pointing at the dark shape of an apartment building at the end of the block.

You turn around to face her again. “Katie, would you like to come up for a cup of coffee? Javi lives just down the street.”

“You sure?” Katie looks at Javi when she asks.

The knuckles on Javi’s hands are white from clutching the steering wheel.

“Of course,” you say, nodding eagerly.

“Yeah, all right,” Katie agrees.

You’re all quiet until you reach Javi’s apartment building. He gets out to open the garage door, then drives the car inside. You can’t help but notice that he still hasn’t asked, and you feel yourself getting nervous and antsy. If he doesn’t do it soon, you’ll definitely be the one to bring it up.

As soon as the car is parked, Katie gets out and shuts the door behind her with a dull bang.

Javi turns in his seat so he’s facing you. “What was that?” he asks.

“Ask her,” you tell him. “Now. Or I’m gonna do it.”

“What?” he snaps.

“I was trying to give you an opening,” you explain, as calmly as possible. Why does this have to be so complicated? “Like a scene partner, you know? Set up everything, so you can ask her.”

“Well, you weren’t doing a good job.”

“Gee, thanks,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I’m gonna do it,” Javi tells you, his voice much softer now, “just give me time.”

“How much longer do you need?” you want to know. “She almost had us drop her off at her flat.”

“I’m doing it,” Javi sighs, “just … go away.”

All the tension in you leaves your body in one big wave and you smile softly at him. “Javi, are you nervous?”

He shoots you a stern look.

You raise your hands defensively. “All right, I’m going.”

You both get out of the car, and while you walk towards the exit to the stairwell, your steps echoing through the underground parking lot, you hear Javi say, “Katie, do you have a minute?”

You stop once you reach the door, lingering in the shadows, your eyes on Javi and Katie. You watch them talk, but you cannot hear what they’re saying; they’re too far away and standing too closely together for the sound to carry all the way to you. All you can tell is that he’s explaining something to her, and when he grows quiet, he cocks his hip, arms akimbo. Then he nods at you.

You have to admit you’re more nervous than you want Javi to know. So much could go wrong. What if she starts shouting at you? What if she storms off? She’s still Javi’s colleague, he would still have to work with her. What were you thinking? Why did you agree to this? Why didn’t you ask a complete stranger? It would certainly have made things a lot less awkward.

Katie is also looking at you, just for a moment, but it’s enough time for her to take you in, from head to toe, and then she looks back at Javi. She says something, something you can’t hear, and he nods. Then she nods, too.

***

You’re on Javi’s couch, Katie is sitting next to you, another bottle of beer in her hand, while Javi has made himself comfortable in an old leather armchair. You’ve been sipping on a glass of water for the past 15 minutes while you’ve been listening to them talk about work. Neither of you has mentioned anything about the proposition, and you have no idea how to bring it up again. Yes, you want to be in charge, but you had hoped Javi would do more than just ask. You had hoped he would initiate something … anything.

But instead, they’re both relaxed and at ease, talking about some new regulations that have been introduced recently, while you try to find a way into the conversation, while you try to find something more elegant than, “Well, anyway, do you guys wanna take this to the bedroom?”

Luckily, there’s only so much time you can spend discussing regulations on car safety, and soon a tense silence settles over the room, settles between you, waiting to be cut, to be torn apart, and you know that this is your chance.

“So,” you start, and immediately both Javi and Katie turn their heads to look at you. You take a sip from your water before continuing. “Katie, there’s some things –”

She interrupts you immediately. “I know, Javi told me. I’m fine with it.”

You take a deep breath. “Yes, I just want us to go over it one more time, to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

God, why do you sound so awkward? This isn’t supposed to be a business negotiation and yet it feels like one. You don’t want to alienate Katie by insisting on those rules, but you need something to hold on to once you get started.

“I’m gonna be in charge,” you say quickly. “I hope Javi mentioned that.”

“He did,” Katie confirms with a nod.

“And I want you to leave once this is over.” It sounds mean, but it’s too late to phrase it nicer now.

“Yeah, sure,” Katie says, her expression neutral. “No problem.”

“I’m open to trying anything,” you go on. “But the minute someone feels uncomfortable with something, we stop. All right?” You look at both of them for confirmation. They both nod. “I need a verbal confirmation, please.”

“Yes,” Javi says, “we stop.”

“Of course,” Katie agrees.

“And there’s one more thing,” you say, trying to work up the courage to address it. You know it’s silly to be nervous about it, especially since you all just agreed to be open with one another, and since Javi already knows about it, but you still feel apprehension at the thought of bringing it up.

“Yeah, I know,” Katie says before you can continue. “No penetration.”

She says it so matter-of-factly, in the same tone of voice she used to talk about the new regulations that suddenly you feel like there won’t be any problems at all.

“I’m fine with fingers,” you say quickly, “just not …”

“Yes, and I’m completely fine with that,” Katie assures you.

You have no idea how she does it, how she can sit there and talk about this without flinching. Maybe you’re the problem; maybe you need to relax more. You enjoyed your evening talking to Katie, you enjoyed getting to know here, so there is nothing to indicate you’re not going to enjoy this. Katie is certainly set on enjoying herself, judging by the way her eyes roam over Javi, practically undressing him with her gaze.

And suddenly, you don’t feel shy at all. You feel brave and bold, and entirely not yourself as you lean closer to Katie and, before you can change your mind, capture her bottom lip between your lips. Katie makes a surprised sound, but then her hand is at the nape of your neck as she pulls you close. You can taste the beer lingering on her lips as you pry them open with your tongue, and you feel her gasp softly against your skin, and you just know that this won’t be a problem at all. You feel bolder with each passing second, not breaking the kiss when you rest your hand against her thigh, and she’s not breaking the kiss when you move it higher up to cup one of her breasts. All that catches your attention is a sharp intake of breath somewhere behind you. Katie hears it, too, and it makes her break the kiss.

“So, where’s the bedroom?” she asks, putting down her beer.

***

Javi’s bedroom is dark, except for the occasional flicker of light from a passing car that illuminates the walls and the bed for a few short moments. Neither of you switches on the light as you enter. It is a quiet procession, slightly awkward, as if you all don’t quite know how to approach this. You still feel apprehensive, but this feeling is slowly being replaced by giddy excitement, by adrenaline and arousal mixing together to form a dangerous, explosive cocktail you long to control but you also want to see ignited. You try to breathe in deeply, slowly, but your throat feels tight as your heart beats loudly against your ribcage.

You want this, you have to remind yourself, and it’s not the act itself you’re thinking about, but what you discussed just a few minutes ago. You wanted to be in charge, you tell yourself as both Javi and Katie look at you, their faces hidden behind thick shadows.

Katie looks as nervous as you feel. You’re all new to this, but she’s not as used to hiding her emotions behind a solid mask as Javi is. She glances at you, then back at him, waiting for you to say something. Or for him to do something. You were so brave and determined in the other room, as if you knew exactly what you were doing. You were another person. But now this feels solid and real, not something you just talk about with Javi to see the heat in his gaze. They actually expect you to do something, to guide them, and you’re not sure you can do it.

Javi, ever observant, ever determined to look out for you, senses your insecurity. Of course he does, how could he not? He is focused on you, it feels like you’re the only person here who matters to him, like this is about you and no one else. He takes a step forward until he’s a hand's width away from you, then pulls you close into a deep kiss, one that leaves you breathless within seconds. His tongue is everywhere, and his teeth nip and bite at your lip and neck until all you can do is cling to the collar of his shirt to help you ground yourself. He pushes you up against the nearest wall until you’re trapped between two solid entities. You’ve never felt safer and more sheltered. Your initial insecurity blows off as you lose yourself in the attention he’s paying you. His hands are eager to explore, roaming across your chest, pulling open your blouse with so much force you hear one of the buttons hitting the floor somewhere. You don’t mind; all you want is for him to keep going.

He does, forcing you to spread your legs so he can push one of his strong thighs between them, and you obey willingly, while you press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against the hot skin of his neck, against the bulging vein that protrudes when you let your fingers brush against his chest and stomach, trailing lower and lower, eager to reach their goal. Before they can, he pushes up his thigh and you grind down onto it, both of you moaning from the strain and the tension of it. You can feel your slick coating your underwear, you’re sure he can feel the heat through the fabric of both your trousers, and it only spurs him on – he takes a hold of your hips and urges you to keep moving. You do, your eyes fluttering shut, as your entire world is reduced to that sweet friction as you chase your pleasure, completely lost in the moment.

But then his mouth is right next to your ear and he whispers something, his voice raspy and raw, and your whole body trembles.

“Look at you,” he says, and you feel the words reverberating in his chest. “You want this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out in a whispered pant. “God, yes.”

He pushes up his thigh again and you let out a moan that fills the entire room.

His lips are still right next to your ear, you can feel his breath tickle your sensitive skin. “Can I kiss her?” he asks. “Will you let me?”

You can’t tell if it’s that he’s so close to you, so overwhelmingly close and solid and present, or if it’s the pleading edge to his voice when he asks you, but something makes you vibrate with desire and all you can do is nod quickly, your head connecting to the wall with a dull thud. You don’t even feel it.

He pulls you in for another kiss, taking his time with you, and you taste him, inhale his scent, drink him down, before you pull back with a soft chuckle. “Go,” you whisper, “she might get bored.”

“Yes,” he agrees, and presses another soft kiss to your lips. “I want you to take off your clothes, all right?” His thumb brushes over your cheek when he quickly cups your face. “Get comfortable …,” he hesitates, “… and if you want us to stop …”

“No!” you interrupt him. “No, please.”

The smirk spreading across his face is too cocksure for your taste, and while he’s turning away from you, you’re already trying to come up with a plan to get back at him.

Your skin still burns, it feels like your whole body, every cell, is on fire, your lungs struggle to draw in air to keep you alive. You’re sure you look like a mess, your fingers tingle and your legs shake, and you just can’t explain it, why he suddenly has this effect on you. You’re attracted to him, more than you’ve ever been to another man before, and he makes you feel so good whenever he touches you and fucks you, but this is new.

Your eyes never leave his back as he steps over to where Katie is standing completely still, as he pulls her close by her wrist, cups her cheek, his fingers tangling in her long hair, and then his lips are on hers, and she melts against him. You listen to her soft moans and his rough pants as they explore each other, and suddenly your body burns up with longing again, longing to be touched and kissed, longing to pull out those same sounds from someone else. You watch as he undresses her with adept hands, as he roughly cups one of her breasts and she mewls, satisfaction flashing across his face, as he shoves one hand between her legs, then turns to you with a satisfied grin.

He doesn’t have to say it. You know.

You hurry to get out of your clothes while Javi does the same. Katie is leaning against the wall, her body trembling, and you know how she feels, you know about the burning between her legs, about the heartbeat pounding in her ears. You’re all too familiar with the effects of his touch, his kisses, his filthy words whispered against sweat-slicked skin. But she’s been hit by it without a chance to prepare herself. When another car drives past, you get a glimpse of her flushed skin and the glimmer in her unfocused eyes, and yours flutter shut for a second in response as your hands curl into fists.

If this is what Javi gets to see when he touches you it’s not surprising he does it so often.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bed, helps you settle down comfortably. Katie follows, her gaze fixed on Javi’s hard cock, eyes wide.

“No,” he says, as if he can read her mind. “She’s first.”

It’s against your deal, against the rules you set for this to work. He shouldn’t be in charge, you should be, you should tell them what comes next, how to approach this. But when one of his hands grips your thigh and pulls so your legs spread and you hear a hissed breath as he looks at the evidence of your arousal slick and glistening between your legs, you lose all will to take charge. Instead, you let your head fall back and wait, wait for him.

And then there’s something else, too; Katie, on your other side, much smaller, less imposing, but there, smelling sweet and clean where Javi’s scent is heavy and choking. She settles down comfortably next to you, her body pressed against yours, and before you can get used to the feeling of her own arousal against your leg, she softly moves your head, so you look at her, and then she’s kissing you hungrily. Suddenly, her sweet scent is all you breathe and taste, her soft lips against your own ignite something deep within you, something you already felt back in the living room but which you pushed down for the time being because it wasn’t the right place. Now it is, and you pull back and push one of your legs between hers, watching how her jaw tightens, how her eyes open wide, and then she starts rolling her hips, coating your skin with her slick. You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck and force her to look down, to watch herself, and when she does, you’re suddenly filled with two of Javi’s fingers, stretching you open.

A hoarse moan escapes your throat as he pulls them out again but immediately replaces them with three. You’re used to it, used to his thick, strong fingers stretching you, but you’re so wound up and on edge that it almost feels overwhelming. There are tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but then you feel Katie’s lips against your neck, and it brings you back down.  

Somewhere above you, Javi huffs. “You’re so wet,” he says, his voice unbelievably deep and rough and it makes a shudder run through you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You want to come up with a witty retort, but you can’t, not when you hear what he says next. “Do you want to feel her, Katie?”

“Can I?” Katie whispers against your neck, but before the question has left her mouth in its entirety, you’re already replying.

“Yes, fuck,” you moan, trying to push up your hips to take Javi’s fingers in deeper.

He grips you with his free hand and pushes you back into the mattress. And then you feel the much softer touch of Katie’s fingers against your stomach, stroking you soothingly. She even whispers a soft, “Shh,” against the shell of your ear, and you squirm in reply, but then she finds your clit and softly circles it, once, twice, and you go limp at the same time as she bites down on your neck to muffle a breathless, “Fuck.”

You share that sentiment. Her fingers feel nothing like Javi’s. They’re softer both in touch and pressure but combined with his three still buried deep inside of you, still fucking into you with wet, obscene noises, you feel like you’ve found Heaven on Earth. You’re close, every muscle in your body tenses, and you close your eyes with a deep groan.

Suddenly, Javi’s hand closes around your jaw and he pulls. “Look at me,” he demands. “I want to see you.”

Reluctantly, you open your eyes, but then you see it. Javi is looking at you like he usually does, with amazement and want, but there is also a different edge to it, something between unrestrained lust and uninhibited pride, and something like adoration too, and he’s never looked at you like that before. It’s enough to push you over the edge and you come with a hoarse cry, tightening around his fingers, pushing him even deeper into you, and this time Katie has to hold you in place with a firm grip as he continues to fuck you with three wet fingers, fuck you through your orgasm, the muscles on his arm taut with the effort.  

Only when you hiss and try to move away does he stop. He leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple as you shudder and try to catch your breath. Katie’s hand moves up to stroke across your stomach in lazy circles, while she presses small kisses along the underside of your jaw. You swallow hard and close your eyes – you have never, never, felt like this after an orgasm; you feel so open and vulnerable with both of them doting on you like this, but you also feel safe and secure. The only thing that’s missing is a feeling of deep satisfaction, and you might have an idea how to achieve that.

“You all right?”

It takes you a moment to realize Javi has addressed you, but once this information registers with you, you nod slowly. “Just give me a second,” you answer, your voice raw. You clear your throat and the movement stings.

Did you scream? You probably did but you don’t remember.

Javi relaxes, sits up, and carefully pulls out his fingers. You hadn’t even realized they were still inside of you, and you hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He only smirks at you, a lopsided grin that ignites another spark of desire deep in your belly.

“Lie down,” you tell him, your voice still hoarse and dry.

He looks at you, a question on his face.

“Come on,” you urge him, pushing yourself up on your elbows so you’re closer to him. “Lie down on your back.”

He does as he’s told, lying down on your right side next to Katie who’s still cuddled up to you, still trying to kiss your neck, your shoulders, anywhere she can reach. But your eyes are on Javi, and on the unreadable expression on his face. There is definitely some curiosity there, some inquisitiveness, and you haven’t forgotten – you haven’t forgotten about wanting to get back at him.

With a finger under Katie’s chin, you tilt her head up to kiss her, a slow kiss that quickly turns into something more. She grips your arm and holds on as you take your time with her, exploring her mouth, exploring all the ways you can make her sigh and whimper. By the time you pull away, she’s a quivering mess and you can’t blame her, especially not once you realize why her moans have grown louder and more desperate during the last few minutes.

Javi’s hand is between her thighs, and you see him move two fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace. This sight – his thick fingers, the same ones that were buried so deep inside of you only minutes ago, now coated in her slick – makes you bite back a moan that’s trying to force its way out of your chest. You lock eyes with Javi as he pushes a third finger into her and she drops her head onto your shoulder with a strangled sigh; there’s a challenge in his gaze, one you’re ready to accept.

You run your fingers through Katie’s hair and watch Javi continue what he’s doing, listen to the obscenely wet sounds his movements make, and whisper soothing words to the woman by your side, whisper to her how good she is for you, how well she’s taking it, how pretty she looks on display for you like that. You know Javi can hear you, you see his cock twitch when you ask, “Would you like him to taste you?” and her breathlessly replying, “Yes.”

Javi moves to get up, but you quickly put a stop to this by shaking your head. “No,” you say, “we’re doing this my way.”

Yes, there’s definitely curiosity in his gaze, but you also don’t think his eyes have ever been this dark before.

You softly kiss Katie again, then say, “Hey,” in the quietest voice you can muster, giving the circumstances. “Look at me.”

Katie opens her eyes and gazes at you, her brow knit tightly, her eyes glazed over with lust. The sight makes you bite your lip, and her gaze immediately flickers down to where your teeth dig into the soft flesh.

“Are you all right?” you ask her.

She nods slowly.

“If there’s something you don’t feel comfortable with, just tell me.”

She swallows and nods again. You have a feeling she wants to say something but doesn’t trust her voice.

You nod too. “Get up,” you say, giving the softness in your voice an edge to show her this isn’t up for debate.

Javi slowly pulls his fingers out of her and you see her thighs quiver at the loss. You help her into a kneeling position.

“He’s gonna taste you now, all right?” you ask, making sure everyone is on board with what’s going to happen next. “I’m going to take care of him, so I don’t want you to worry about that. But you’re going to look at me the whole time.”

Her eyes widen as she realizes what you mean, and you hear Javi inhale sharply behind her. You let them find a position that is comfortable for them while you move to settle between Javi’s legs. His cock is an angry, red color and you cannot wait to feel the weight of it in your hand, to give him some of the relief he’s craving. He’s been so good for you – for the both of you –, he deserves to be taken care of. You let your eyes wander to the tip, to the drop of pre-cum that is inviting you to lean down and taste him, when you hear a deep groan vibrate through his entire body, so depraved and unrestrained it makes you look up.

Katie’s thighs are planted to the left and right of Javi’s head, his hands are digging into her soft flesh to spread them even further. Her head is thrown back in pure bliss as he licks up into her, holding her down so he can reach as much of her as possible. You’re completely mesmerized by the sight in front of you, by Javi’s face buried between another woman’s legs, by her arousal coating his chin, and it makes your own cunt clench with need. For a moment, just one brief moment, you consider abandoning your plan, taking him inside of you until you’re joined, connected, until nothing could pull you apart, and then fucking him until he spills inside you, moaning your name into Katie’s cunt.

But you don’t.

You take a deep breath, then wrap your hand around the base of Javi’s cock.

His moan of strained relief sends a jolt of pleasure through you.

You run your fingers up his length and swipe your thumb across the tip, collecting some of the pre-cum. As a response, he digs his nails deeper into Katie’s thighs and she cries out, a sound somewhere between pain and pleasure.

“He likes it rough, you know,” you say, circling the tip of his cock with your thumb lightly, casually, as if you were doodling a circle while talking to someone on the phone.

Katie’s eyes snap open and she looks at you, but you’re not sure she sees you. You don’t blame her. You’re well aware of what Javi can do with his tongue. You know what it feels like when he moans against your wet cunt, your swollen clit. In fact, you’re surprised Katie hasn’t come all over his face yet.

“Grab his neck,” you say, and cannot help but laugh lewdly when she immediately complies, her slender fingers closing around his strong, muscular throat. You watch as a vein at the base of his neck bulges, straining with effort, while he never once falters, while he continues to lick through Katie’s wet folds like she’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. “Go on then,” you say, your hand closing around the base of his cock again and squeezing, “don’t be shy – fuck his face.”

The way Katie follows your orders immediately, without hesitation, without the flicker of a doubt on her face, makes pleasure shoot through your veins. You swallow hard at the sight of her rolling her hips almost leisurely, her fingers still wrapped around his throat for purchase, while he drinks her down without complaint, a dark flush creeping up his chest and neck.

You’ve teased him enough.

You pump his cock once, twice, before settling yourself so you can wrap an arm around his leg, running your fingers through his coarse, dark hair, and then you finally allow yourself to taste him. You suck the tip of him into your mouth, letting his taste burst on your tongue, appreciating it like you would appreciate expensive wine. You take him in deeper, his heaviness familiar against your tongue, his taste sharp and strong, and he rewards you with a deep, dark growl, with low moans, with clipped sighs. One of his hands find its way to the nape of your neck to push you down further, and you let him. He’s been patient enough – he’s allowed to take for a while.

But there’s something else, too, another noise, one you usually don’t hear when you do this: the wet sound of his tongue against Katie’s center, her quiet gasps mixed with his strained huffs. You can feel yourself get impossibly wet at hearing them, at hearing this ambient noise all around you, and you let out a moan of your own before hollowing your cheeks to take even more of him in your mouth until his tip brushes against the back of your throat and you feel tears sting at the corner of your eyes.

Javi lets out a low growl and pushes his hips up. You hold him down, try to restrain him, but his muscles tense, his breathing gets ragged and then ….

You hear it, a quiet gasp, and look up. Katie’s eyes are on you, her face is flushed, she looks like she’s burning up, and it takes you a moment to realize what is happening until you notice she’s stilled completely, and her hands have left Javi’s neck and are braced against his broad chest, her nails digging into his flesh, leaving angry marks. She’s coming, she’s coming all over his face, while he continues to lick her with the most obscenely wet sounds you’ve ever heard. She doesn’t even have time to call out or shout his name because she’s so overwhelmed, taken completely by surprise, and you are, too. All you can do is sit up and watch her, brushing the loose strands of hair from her face, as she comes completely undone without a single sound.

You don’t give her much time to catch her breath, neither of you do. With a firm grip, Javi pushes her off him and you immediately set the next step of your plan in motion.

“Do you want to return the favor?” you ask her.

Her eyes grow wide, and it feels like she’s unable to speak, but she nods eagerly. You can see her heartbeat, a quick pulsing in her neck, tempting you, and you lean forward to kiss it.

“Go on then,” you whisper against her skin.

You swap places; she settles herself between Javi’s legs and you lie down next to him. He looks like a mess. His chest is rising and falling rapidly like he’s just finished running a marathon. There are marks all over the skin, and his cheeks are flushed. His eyes are glazed over, and his curls are damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead. You run your fingers through them, trying to smooth them back. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, drawing your eyes lower to his mustache that’s impossibly darker.

The urge to kiss him becomes unbearable.

When you do, he doesn’t taste like himself. There is another taste mixed in there, one that is foreign to you, and you bite down on his lip possessively when you taste it. He lets out a low growl and bucks his hips, drawing your attention downwards.

Katie looks up at the both of you, tears in her eyes. She’s doing her best, but you know how it is, you know that Javi’s size can be overwhelming at first. You decide to help her, to make this as enjoyable as possible for both of them.

“He likes a firm hold at the base,” you say.

Katie’s fingers close around his cock in a firm grip and Javi hisses, his breath fanning across your neck.

“Good girl,” you praise. You don’t know where this is coming from, but Katie’s eyes flutter shut and Javi’s chest rumbles with a desperate purr and you know you’ve said the right thing. “Use your tongue more,” you continue, “and try to get out of your head … he likes it sloppy.”

Katie’s tongue darts out to lick along the underside of Javi’s cock, from base to tip, before she takes him in her mouth again, doing her best to hold him steady. She doesn’t break eye contact with you and it’s only when you nod encouragingly that she lets him fall from her mouth with a wet plop, a trail of spit connecting her to his tip.

“Yeah, that’s better,” you tell her. “Keep that up and he won’t last long.”

You turn your attention back to Javi who looks at you with eyes impossibly dark. If there was a source of light in the room, you’re sure you’d be able to see your reflection in them. You grip a tuft of hair at the top of his head and hold him in place.

“Is this what you wanted?” you ask him, whispering the words into his ear, against his hot, flushed, sweat-slicked skin.

He nods, nothing more.

“I want to hear you say it,” you urge him on.

When he answers you with words, you hear why he was trying to communicate non-verbally. The “yes” he gives you is a hoarse, deep, desperate sound. You had no idea his voice could sound like this, could sound so wrecked, so taut, so pleading. You kiss him, and he kisses you back with such urgency, like a drowning man coming up for air.

You’re drunk, drunk on this power you have over him, drunk on being in charge of his pleasure while not even touching him, and you feel the desire to exploit this, to push him as far as he’ll let you without breaking him. You kiss him back, holding him in place with the fingers in his hair, while you listen to Katie moan around his cock. He moans, too, and his hips twitch, and you know he’s close, one fist tangled in the bedsheets, the other holding on to your arm.

“Katie, stop,” you say.

She does immediately, thinking there’s something wrong. Javi groans in frustration, his hips jerking upwards to chase that bit of friction from Katie’s hand still wrapped around him.

“Change of plans,” you tell them.

“No, please.”

You don’t recognize Javi’s voice. If you wouldn’t have seen his mouth move, you wouldn’t have known it was him who had just spoken.

“Please, querida.” He’s trying to convince you, he really is, knowing you usually can’t resist him when he calls you that, but you can, you have to this time.

“There’s something I want to try,” you tell him, letting your fingers run down his chest. “You said I could decide what we’re doing.”

“Yes, you can, but please …”

“If you do as I say …,” you say slowly, swallowing hard, “you can fuck me as hard as you want.”

He thinks this is hard for him, but it’s nothing compared to how hard this is for you. You’re sure you could come from hearing him say two more words in that voice of his. Luckily, he shuts his mouth and nods, determination on his face.

You sit up. “Katie, come here.” You beckon her close with a wave of your hand. “Lie down next to him.” Katie does as she’s told, glancing at Javi whose eyes are fixed on you. “Make sure his hands stay where you can see them. He’s not allowed to touch himself.”

“Yes,” Katie says, her voice hoarse.

You allow yourself to give her one kiss, just one, before you frame her chin with your thumb and index finger and turn her face so she’s looking at Javi. Where Javi’s skin is burning, Katie’s is cool to the touch when you let your hands run down her sides and over the taut plane of her stomach. She sucks in a quiet breath as you brush your fingers over her thighs, over the mound of hair between them, and then you touch her.

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, at feeling her soft, warm, wet center. You run your fingers through her drenched folds, you listen to her gasps and whimpers, you hear Javi’s voice, too, but you can’t understand what he’s saying. And then, with a shallow breath, you push one finger into Katie. You feel her clench around you, you hear her whisper your name in surprise, but you’re too mesmerized by the sight of your digit vanishing between her folds to look at her.

You get it. You get it now. You know, you understand why Javi loves doing this to you.

When you add a second finger and pick up the pace, Katie moans loudly, but still not loud enough to drown out Javi’s aroused grunt. You finally lift your head to look at them both, at Javi, whose mouth hangs open, who has a look on his face like he’s trying to solve an unsolvable puzzle, and at Katie, who’s doing her best to keep her gaze on Javi, but whose eyelids flutter dangerously.

You shift positions and then your face is level with Katie’s weeping cunt. You pull out your fingers, grab her thighs in a tight grip, and give her one experimental lick, just a taste, just a sample. It’s so different from what Javi tastes like, it’s less heavy, less prominent. You try it again. And again.

Katie is a whimpering mess by now; one of her hands is resting against the top of your head; what the other one is doing, you don’t know. All you can focus on is the feeling of her against your tongue as you suck on her clit. That makes her scream, and you do it again, until her voice is hoarse.

Then you hear Javi. “You like that?” he asks, and you think he’s talking to you, but when you lift your eyes, you see he has Katie’s face in a tight grip, forcing her to look at you.

Katie nods.

“Tell her,” Javi demands, tightening his grip.

“Fuck,” Katie moans, and for you, this would have been enough, but not for Javi.

“You can do better than that,” he coos.

“It – you feel so good,” Katie tries. “God, I … more, please.”

“What do you need?” Javi asks. “Tell her.”

“Can I have … I just need … a finger,” Katie answers, her face and chest impossibly red, her expression open and vulnerable, her eyes glazed over. “I just want something to come on.”

You pull away for a second, a smirk on your face. “You can have two,” you say, before shoving two fingers inside her. You feel her tense around you, pulling you in deeper, and when you put your tongue back on her clit, she lets out the filthiest, most desperate moan you’ve heard her make all evening.

She didn’t moan like that when Javi was between her legs.

“Do you want to come?” you hear Javi ask her, and a strangled sound is the reply. “That good enough for you?” he asks you.

“No,” you say between licks.

“You heard her,” Javi goes on. “Try again.”

“Please …,” Katie whimpers. “I need to …”

You push your fingers impossibly deeper into her and she tightens around them with a hoarse scream, over and over, while you suck her clit into your mouth again with a filthy sound. She tries to pull away then, but you hold her in place with your free hand.

“No,” you say, your voice breathy. “Another one.”

Javi lets go of Katie’s face and shifts on the bed. Your eyes flicker to him, but he’s keeping his promise so far.

“Think you can do it?” he asks Katie.

“I don’t know,” she answers.

“You can,” you tell her. “Just keep an eye on him.”

You’re on thin ice, you know that. There’s only so far Javi will allow you to push him. But you feel drunk on the power you hold not only over him, but also over Katie. Her legs tremble when you drag your tongue through her wet folds again, her muscles twitch, and her hips push upwards. You hold her down, then repeat the movement with your tongue before pushing the tip of it into her. Katie’s head falls back with another loud moan, and this time you let her roll her hips against your mouth before pulling away.

The desperate whimper she makes cloaks your mind in a hazy, filthy mist of lust.

“Tell me, Katie,” you start, lazily pushing the tip of your finger into her, “who’s better? Me or him?”

You don’t look at her as you say it, you look at Javi. He holds your gaze, his expression unreadable, but there is something in his eyes, something that reminds you of a gathering storm.

“You,” Katie breathes out. “You, fuck!”

And then the storm breaks loose in Javi’s eyes. You see the lightning, hear the thunder, you feel the electricity prick at the back of your neck. You shouldn’t have asked Katie this question, you shouldn’t have provoked him like this, but here you are. There no taking it back now.

Even as you turn your attention back to Katie, even as you taste her cunt once more, you know he’s watching you. You feel his heated gaze, you feel something simmer just beneath the surface. As long has Katie moans and writhes beneath you, you’re safe. Javi won’t make his move. But as soon as Katie comes, you will have to pay.

And she does, eventually. She pushes her hips up, pressing your face against her with a firm grip at the back of your head, and you feel her come all over your tongue and chin with quiet shouts of pleasure.

Before you have time to collect yourself, before you have time to sit up or catch your breath, Javi is behind you. You don’t even see him move, you only realize he’s changed position when you feel the heat of his body against your back, when you feel his fingers on your sides, when you feel him slam into you. The sheer force of it pushes you up the bed until you’re right above Katie’s dazed face. You hold on for dear life, your fingers gripping the bedsheets, as Javi fucks you with so much force you can feel him everywhere. You don’t even have enough air left in your lungs to cry out, all you can hear is his skin against yours and his low grunts as he’s finally taking what you’ve denied him for so long. There is nothing you can do but let him.

You know you won’t last long, neither of you will. But when you feel Katie’s fingers against your clit, when you look into her eyes and see her bite her lip in concentration, it’s too much. The contrast between Javi fucking you at a punishing pace and Katie’s soft touch, almost like a caress, loosens something within you before your entire body tenses up. Something is happening to you that you cannot quite explain. You feel yourself grow unbelievably wet, so wet Javi slips out of you completely for a second but pulls you back onto him with a rough tug, and then you hear Katie moan out a low, “Shit”. You bury your face in the crook of her neck, feeling wrung out yet taut at the same time. It’s so overwhelming you feel like you’re about to explode, like you cannot keep going, but they don’t stop. Javi has an arm slung around your stomach as he holds you in place, Katie has your hip in a firm grip while she circles your clit with a movement that’s enough to keep you on edge but not push you over it. Javi has grown completely quiet, and you know exactly why; you know what his face looks like even though you can’t see him, you know he’s about to come from the way his muscles twitch against your back. But you don’t know if you can give him what he wants, if you can come on his cock buried deep inside you, his cock that sends jolt after jolt of rough pleasure through you. You’re too overwhelmed, you won’t be able to let go.

But then, your face still buried in Katie’s neck, you hear her say, “Come for us,” and that’s all it takes. You do, your muscles closing around Javi’s cock like a vise, while you bite down on the soft skin of Katie’s shoulder, trying to muffle the scream that tears itself from an undiscovered place within you, so well hidden, so deeply buried you had no idea it existed. And while you feel wave over wave of pleasure rush through you, you also feel Javi flood you in wave over wave of hot release, his body completely still, holding you in place until he’s done.

He pulls out of you with a wet sound, and you immediately sink down next to Katie, spent and exhausted and more tired than you’ve ever felt in your life. Katie kisses your cheek, your temple, your lips, anywhere she can reach, while Javi gets a wet cloth from the bathroom to clean you up. The second to last thing you remember is Javi joining you on the bed again, his strong arms wrapping around you, whispering soothing words.

The last thing you remember is taking Katie’s hand into yours and saying, “Stay.”

***

It’s early morning, the street outside Javi’s flat is still quiet, and you yawn as you lean against his arm, a cup of coffee in your hand.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast?” you ask Katie as you watch her put on her shoes.

“Thank you, but I have a lot of work to catch up on,” she rejects your offer again with a smile. “Another time maybe?”

“Do you want to grab coffee sometime?” you ask her.

“Sure!” she exclaims excitedly. “Anytime.”

“I’ll give you a call, okay?”

She nods, then pulls you away from Javi and into a tight hug. “It was lovely meeting you,” she says, her arms still slung around you. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” you say, before pulling away.

Katie turns her attention to Javi. “Thank you,” she says. For what exactly, she doesn’t reveal.

Javi, his hair still messy from sleep, wearing nothing but an old pair of boxers, looking exhausted and tired, still manages to smile at her. He leans down and presses a kiss against her cheek. She presses a kiss against his lips.

“See you,” she says, meaning both of you. 

taglist (mostly people who showed interest in this fic): @acdeaky | @ah-soka | @chasingdreamer | @codenamewife | @darksber | @deliriouslybewitching | @dindja | @doin-stuff | @filthybookworm | @for-my-satisfaction | @frannyzooey​ | @itssmashedavo​ | @kesskirata​ | @leannawithacapitala​ | @murbeft | @omgreally​ | @pedropascaldice​ | @phoenixhalliwell​ | @phrog-seeds | @pilothusband​ | @queenofthefaceless-main | @reluctantlyresponsibleadult​ | @skyshipper​ | @softpedropascal​ | @speakerforthedead0​ | @starrdvstkenobi​ | @sunnydunnydays​ | @tacticalsparkles​ | @theorganasolo​ | @walt-breslin​ (if your url is crossed through it means I couldn’t tag you for some reason, I’m sorry!)

[charliedawn]

Imagine being in a hate love relationship with Peter Hale

Warning : attempt of rape

You were on Peter duty..Again. Since Peter Hale was the man that everybody feared, it had been decided that you would be the one keeping an eye on the overly fool-of-himself werewolf with the power of your mighty patience. Scott and Stiles stop in front of Derek's loft and he jogs out to meet you.

" Thanks Y/N. I owe you one !"

He says with a grateful smile and you smile back.

" Big time. But come on, you three go hunt whatever creature you have to hunt and I'll stay to take care of Mr Smarty-pants up there !"

You say enthusiastically and they all smile apologetically at you, knowing how the two of you were not exactly on friendly terms.

" Be careful, okay ? And tell him that if he touches you, I'll kick his ass !"

Stiles says confidently, which makes you laugh.

" Don't worry, Stiles. If there is any problem, I'll call you guys immediately and plus, I have a way to take care of moody children.."

You tell him with a mysterious smile and Stiles nods understandingly.

" I know..Just, stay safe."

And with that last warning, they are all out of here. As soon as they are out of your sight, your smile leaves your face and you sigh loudly before turning towards the building and whisper to yourself.

" Welp..Here we go.."

As soon as you enter, you smell something burning and see the stove on fire. You run towards it and take a glass from the cupboard to fill it with water in order to stop the fire. When you're done, you are panting because of the effort and look murderously at Peter that is sitting calmly on the couch, as if nothing had happened.

You glare at him while he doesn't even raise his eyes from his book.

" Let me guess..You couldn't smell the smoke ?"

You ask annoyed and only then does he look up at you with a small mischievous smile.

" Aren't you supposed to be the one keeping me out of harm's way ? You are here to keep me from doing anything stupid, not the other way around..I create chaos and you're here to stop me. Do your job and stop whining."

You grit your teeths in anger before sitting on the couch, as far away from Peter as possible. You can't believe the nerve of this man that was ready to burn the entire flat only to prove a point !

" I don't know why you're so eager to unnerve me. Does it entertain you ? Would it kill you to be nice and helpful from time to time ?"

You ask while taking a nearby book and starting reading yourself, not really interested in his answer that you knew would not be anything but upsetting.

" I'm the spark that lits your fire, sweetheart..Try to let go sometimes, you would actually enjoy it. Why don't you try to be less of a killjoy ?"

You raise an eyebrow at that before returning to your book and replying nonchalantly.

" Have you ever considered, even for only a moment, that I simply don't like you ?"

He fakes being offended by putting his hand above his heart and widening his eyes dramatically at you.

" Oh darling ! Me who thought that you were about to ask my hand in marriage ?! How disappointing ?!"

You snort.

" Hard pass."

He sighs in false disappointment before taking his coat and walking towards the exit.

" And where do you think you're going ?"

You ask with an eyebrow arked in curiosity.

" Out."

He answers simply before opening the door. You sigh before taking your coat and running after him.

" Didn't Derek warn you that I am allowed to use silver bullets if you disobey me ?"

He scoffs before shrugging, not bothering waiting for you.

" I'm going to get a beer, not kill a bunch of innocent virgins.."

He winks at you cheekily before stepping inside the bar that was the nearest to the apartment. You role your eyes at his comment before entering the bar after him.

You look around and are amazed to see that the place wasn't as bad as you had previously thought. It had good background music and not a lot of customers, besides a couple of drunk friends who were talking in whispers at their table. However, Peter isn't visible and you sigh again before walking towards the counter to ask the bartender if he had any idea of where your irresponsible dog had run off to. You sit down and attract the attention of the bartender by raising your hand. He walks towards you and leans in to listen to your order.

" A soda, please."

He arks an eyebrow at you, nearly amused, before turning around and getting out what you asked.

" Are you sure you don't want anything else ? Anything stronger ?"

He says while eyeing your bottle of soda warily, as if it was an insult to his establishment for you to order such a drink. You smile, tempted beyond reason, but then remember that you had a werewolf to find.

" Sorry. Can't. I'm on the job. By the way, have you seen a man ? Sarcastic. Arrogant. Energic. Tall. Very annoying. Awfully blond. Seen him anywhere ?"

He looks suspiciously at you before asking in a slightly worried and even threatening voice.

" You're a cop ?"

You can't help but laugh bitterly at the question before replying.

" You could say that. But I am only responsible of one criminal, and the only crime he committed is to not have messed up my night, yet.."

He smirks when he understands the irony in your tone and was about to answer when someone puts his hand on your shoulder. You turn around to see a very smug Peter with a huge grin.

" Oh ! Look at that ! The overly confident puppy is finally back ! What ? Got lost on the way ?"

You ask sarcastically and he only humphs in response before sitting next to you, the grin not leaving his face.

" Why ? Missed me ?"

You scoff before taking a sip of your drink.

" As much as a needle in my heel..But, if Derek was to find out that I've let you out of your cage, he would have my head.."

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and makes you spill your drink a little over yourself.

" Aww..You do care ! My cold heart warms at the thought of the packs brat worrying about me !"

You groan in annoyance before biting his hand off. He hisses in pain before retrieving his hand and massaging it while glaring at you from the corner of his eyes. Just at that moment, the bartender comes back to get Peter's order and eyes Peter suspiciously before looking back at you with an inquisitive glance, asking discreetly if you needed an escape. You could have laughed if it wasn't so sad. Peter was such a nuisance that people were now wondering if he was the one bothering you, when in fact it was the opposite. However Peter, that had not missed the silent conversation, growls when the bartender gives him a warning side glance. But, not intimidated the nearest, Peter smirks a toothy grin at the bartender before showing his bitten hand.

" Careful. The brat bites. I've seen what it is capable of, first hand..literally. Don't worry, if you should be worried about anyone around here, it's everyone else besides her."

He cautioned and the bartenders eyes widen at the mark that would certainly have left a scar if he was a normal human being while you snicker in your corner. The bartender quickly runs towards his other customers at the far end of the bar, leaving you two in your sudden awkward solitude.

" Well..Isn't he a gentleman ? Thinking you need saving from me. Not even considering that I could be the abused one in this relationship ? How rude !"

You try to stifle a laugh. Unfortunately, he hears you and smirks proudly at his small victory.

" I'm not the psychopath that tried to murder a bunch of teenagers just because I wanted to become the big bad alpha.."

You taunt while giving him an amused side glance. He groans in annoyance as you make him remember his past and he gulps down his whiskey, an attempt to make him forget faster.

" Aren't you a delight ?! Playing unfair by spreading out the touchy subjects like that..No wonder Stiles rejected you. You would have chomped his lips off !"

You glare at him as he talks about Stiles before replying harshly.

" Says the man whose only date was Scott's mom, and that was to trap him ! You're so terrible that nobody could stand being with you more than 5 minutes without hating you ! I would tell you to go to hell, but it would be unfair on Satan !"

He chuckles at that last part and you take your drink in order to take a sip and calm your nerves, but grimace at the awful taste. You had asked for a soda, but it tasted more like salt with water..He cackles at your expression before whispering mockingly in your ear with false concern.

" Oh ! What ? Ain't sweet enough for you, sweetheart ?"

You only raise a very distinctive finger at him, warning him that one more word from him would result in extreme pain and look around the room to distract yourself from his presence..and from the fact that you were his entitled babysitter. Your eyes wander and finally settle on the nice bartender that winks at you when you meet his gaze. You blush slightly before smiling back at him. He wasn't bad-looking and everything would be better than bantering with the overly sarcastic and confident werewolf that couldn't seem to leave you be. You were about to stand up and walk towards the cute bartender when suddenly, a hand raises to lay on your shoulder and pin you down to your seat. You were about to complain and even yell at Peter when you hear him growl from deep withing him while he shoots a dirty glare at the poor young man. You frown in incomprehension and grit your teeths in annoyance, thinking it was one of his attention seeking gesture. You then take his hand and force him to let go of you to walk towards the exit. Here you go again, you couldn't even enjoy your night without having to take care of the sulky werewolf. You soon hear his footsteps behind you and when he is about to grab your arm, you turn around abruptly and glare at him with such seriousness that it freezes him on the spot.

" How about you and your insanity stay the heck away from me ?! I'm so tired of your bullshit, Peter ! Why can't you just leave me alone ?!"

At your harsh words, Peter's gaze hardens and he retracts his hand to only smirk at you and tilt his head a little bit to the side, as if he didn't understand the question.

" Oh darling..I would love to ! But, you see, it seems that me and my insanity are often required to solve your friend's little problems !"

Suddenly, unnerved beyond belief and having had more than enough of him, you feel tears threatening to spill from your eyes and yell at him, so loud that it surprises the werewolf himself.

" Leave me alone ! Why am I the only one who always has to handle you?! Why do you always ask Derek for me to keep you, even though you don't even like me ?! If I'm such a bother, why not just get rid of me ?!"

He doesn't seem to be able to find an answer and you don't even let him reply. You start running until you reach a small and dark alley. When you're sure you are far enough for the werewolf not to hear you cry, you crouch down and start sobbing. When you've spilt all of your frustration and sadness out, you wipe your face with your sleeve and stand up to get back home. However, when you are about to leave the alley-way, you see someone else blocking the exit. You first think that it's Peter, but the more you approach the individual, the more you have to admit that it doesn't look like Peter. You try to walk past him, but he brusquely grabs your arm and throws you to the ground. You want to get your phone out of your purse, but the man stomps on your hand and you scream in pain. The man takes you by the jaw and forces you to look up at him. His disgusting breath hitting your face, smelling of alcool and his evil smirk making you want to puke even more.

" Aren't ya a sweat ass ? Tell me, what does a young lady like yourself doing here by herself in the middle of the night, hmm ?"

You want to scream for help again, but another individual behind you puts his hand against your mouth to muffle your screams and you feel the familiar shape of a knife against your throat. When you know that there is nothing else you can do, you close your eyes and try to stop the new tears from leaving your eyes..You didn't want to cry for those men, they didn't deserve your tears..

" Now..You're going to be a good girl and let us take care of you, okay ?"

The one posted behind you whispers in your ear and you clench your jaw, your last thought going to Peter. You had been awful to him, even though you knew he wasn't a bad person..You had let out your frustration on him and you were now regretting it bitterly. You should have sticked to your job and stay with him. If you had, maybe you wouldn't be in your current situation. Reality hits you hard when you feel one of the men starting to open your blouse. When you thought that that was it, that you were going to be raped in that dirty alley-way and probably killed, you hear the hurried footsteps of someone running towards your location. You want to scream again, but the knife is raised once again against your throat.

" One peep and nobody will even find your body.."

You whimper and nod in understanding. The footsteps stop and you hold your breath.

" Sweetheart ? Are you there ?"

You hear the familiar voice of Peter and feel relieved to know that he is near. However, the man whispers instructions in your ear and you can't help but nod in agreement, knowing that he wouldn't hesitate to slice your throat if you were to disobey.

" You're going to tell him to go away, that you don't want him to come any closer..I know what he is and the knife is made of silver and has been dipped in wolfsbane for a while..Don't play smart or you'll lose more than your life.."

He uncovers your mouth and you respond in a shaky voice.

" G..Go away, Peter..I don't want you near me ! I hate you !"

You bit to your inner cheek, wondering if he would insist or know that something is wrong. You know that even if he was to guess that something is wrong, you couldn't afford to lose him as well..However, you hear him take a step towards you and sniff the air. He suddenly growls animalistically and his eyes light up in the dark.

" I can smell the stench of two putrid little humans that shouldn't be touching what isn't theirs.."

You start panicking, knowing that he could die if he was to step any closer and yell in a last attempt to protect him.

" Don't, Peter ! They've got wolfsbane ! Run !"

One of the men muzzles you again, but Peter doesn't step back. He gets his claws out and snarls.

" Alright boys. Let's rumble."

The two men stand up and face Peter that doesn't seem scared. He doesn't keep his eyes off them while they circle him. The man with the knife tries to attack him first, but Peter grabs his arm and tears it off from the rest of his body. The man screams in agony, but Peter slashes his throat before turning towards the other man that is shaking with terror.

" What ?! You are brave enough to attack a defenseless woman, but not enough to fight a werewolf ?!"

He roars and the man suddenly gets out a gun that he points at Peter. Before he could react, the man shoots and the bullet goes through his abdomen. Peter falls on his knees and the man runs away, leaving you and him behind. You force yourself to get up and crouch down in front him to see that the wound is not closing itself.

" Wolfsbane bullet.."

He affirms what you already suspected and you have to take deep breathes in order not to panic. You know what to do, you had seen Derek do it a thousand time already. You need to cauterize the wound. You close your eyes and try to calm yourself before trying to carry him back home. When you finally enter the building after a few grunts and moans of pain from the both of you, you lay Peter down on the couch and look around for something hot enough to burn the poison. Suddenly, your eyes fall on a blowtorch and when Peter understands what you were thinking about, he looks pitifully up at you.

" I have a very bad tolerance to pain."

He warns you, a warning that sounds more like a desperate plea for you to reconsider your plan..But you know that you don't have much time and address him a silent apology with your eyes before taking the handle of your purse and make him bite down on it.

" This is gonna hurt. Bad. But, I'm going to try to be as fast as I can, okay ?"

His nostrils flare in fear for the pain to come, but he nods in agreement and you take a big shaky breath before using the blowtorch. As soon as the fire gets in contact with his skin, Peter visibly whitens, his eyes flash blue and you can see his claws digging in the soft material of the couch. You don't know what to do to attenuate the pain, so you do the first thing that comes to mind to distract him..You kiss him. His eyes widen perceptibly at your action, but he doesn't hesitate before burying his hands in your hair and reciprocating the kiss, even though the handle of your purse forms some kind of barrier between you and him. When you take a step back, he seems more relax and you glance down at his wound before switching off the blowtorch. You are relieved when you see the wound closing and smile widely at him. But, before you could truly process what was happening, Peter had gotten rid of your purse and had bounced on top of you to pin you to the floor and kiss you passionately again.

" Stiles doesn't deserve you..Nobody does..Nobody needs you like I do..Nobody can handle me the way you do..I don't want them to take you away from me..Stay with me..If you leave, I'll lose my fucking mind.."

He mutters between each breath he takes while kissing you and you blush vividly at his words. He looks up at you with his bright blue eyes and you can't help but smile up at him before kissing him back yourself and petting the top of his head appreciatively.

" You damn nut job, if you wanted me that bad, why didn't you tell me ? Instead of making me lose my mind.."

He grins before nuzzling your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist.

" Because I like when you get mad.."

You chuckle before returning his embrace.

" Bad pup.."

" Stiles lover"

You ark an eyebrow at the odd insult before replying teasing.

" Does that mean I won't be able to go back to his place and sleep on his couch ? Do I have to remind you that I live with him ?"

He tightens his hold on you and grumbles tiredly against your ribcage.

" Over my dead body. The only thing you will be allowed to sleep on from now on is me, got it ?"

You seem dumbfounded for a second and Peter picks on your uneasiness before laughing and looking up at you with a sly smile.

" Not what I meant, you pervert."

You blush a deep red and hit him on the back of the head playfully.

" Hey ! You're the one always insinuating things !"

He genuinely smiles at you before lowering his chin on your belly and tilting his head to look at you with fake innocence.

" I'm not the one who kissed me.."

You sigh, it was becoming a competition, like many things with him. You sit back up and make him fall at the same time.

" Yeah ?! Well, you were badly injured..and you reciprocated !"

You don't know why you wanted to defend yourself, you just know that you can't allow yourself to succomb for the man that had nearly killed all of your friends. Plus, you had just been attacked and were too weak to make any decisions. He seems to notice your worry and takes a step back immediately to get up and extend his hand towards you.

" I'm sorry. You helped me and I was being an idiot. You need to get some rest. Come on."

You look at his hand for a few seconds before slipping your hand in his. He yanks you upwards and proceeds to carry you back to your room where he lays you down on your bed. He leaves the room promptly afterwards, mumbling a small goodnight before walking out. When you're sure he is truly gone, you curl up into a ball and try to muffle your sobs. You couldn't sleep, every time you would close your eyes, their hands were there, touching you and making you feel as if you were weak..So weak..You whimper and cry as silently as you can until someone opens the door suddenly and blinding light surrounds the room. You turn around to see Peter standing there, his eyes glowing with such an intense color that it shocks you, you then notice the slight rise of his shoulders at each of his heavy breathing and finally, his lips curled and teeths grinding in rage.

" I should have killed them both..I should have never left you.."

You open your eyes wide at the realization, he had probably heard you and was reacting to your emotions. He approaches slowly and tenderly strokes your cheek, placing his forehead against yours.

" I'm so sorry, darling.."

You feel as if he's been crying too and step back. He seems to be hurt by your sudden distance, but you quickly indicate the spot next to you.

" Come on, I need a bed warmer."

His eyes light up like a happy puppy and he crawls next to you in order to cuddle you, making sure that you are comfortable every step of the way. You sigh in contempt before feeling sleep slowly taking over your tired body. Just before you fall asleep however, you mumble sleepily at Peter.

" You were right..I won't be able to sleep when you're not there anymore..You're too good of a bed warmer.."

You feel him chuckle behind you and smile as you realize that being best bud with Peter wouldn't be so bad..and maybe with time, a bit more.

The next day :

Derek finds the both of you on the sofa: you reading a book out loud, and Peter with his arms wrapped around you, listening attentively.

" So, I guess the babysitting went better than our stake out last night ?"

He asks, amused by your sudden friendliness towards each other. You look up at him with a small smile while Peter chuckles against your ear, the sound alone making you feel things you shouldn't be.

" Best of friends, aren't we, sweetheart ?"

Instead of answering his question, you try to change the subject.

" What happened to the stake out then ? I thought you were supposed to catch a couple of bounty hunters ?"

Derek shakes his head before shrugging his shoulders.

" I know, but when we got there, there was only one of them, and he was screaming that his friend had been murdered by another werewolf in town..I wonder if there are any others like us that we've not yet been in contact with ?"

At his explanation, you feel a lump forming in your throat, but when you were about to tell him what happened last night, Peter beats you to it.

" Funny, your description of the scene exactly matches what happened to me last night.."

Derek frowns before looking up at Peter with his jaw clenched.

" I thought I was pretty clear when I said stay put ?"

He glares at Peter, but then his eyes shift to you.

" And you, where were y..?"

But before he could finish his sentence, Peter cuts him again.

" Asleep. I waited for her to fall asleep before going out. Poor humans, can't manage a night without craving sleep.."

You look up at him with your mouth wide open, ready to deny everything he just said when you see him wink at you..He wasn't trying to make you look bad at your job, he was trying to save you the embarrassment. You close your mouth as fast as you had opened it and turn around towards Derek that was looking at you with an eyebrow raised, waiting for your confirmation. You nod and he sighs.

" Maybe it was a bad idea to leave you alone with him, you're still young and he's had plenty of experience when it comes to get what he wants..I'll ask Scott or Stiles next time."

You feel the lump in your throat slowly making its way to your stomach and your expression twists into one of pain and regret.

" No !"

To the surprise of everyone in the room, including yourself, you're the one who just shouted your disagreement. Derek frowns again before crossing his arms and waiting impatiently for an explanation while Peter only tightens his grip around you, a silent warning as to what you are about to say. You take a big breath before glancing up at Derek and saying in a calm and unfaltering voice.

" This is my job. I'm part of the pack. It's bad enough that I'm completely useless when it comes to working on the field, I can't let my only participation in all this go to someone else. I made a mistake, it won't happen again."

Derek seems to believe you, even though he shakes his head in hesitation.

" I don't know, Y/N..I was allowing this to continue since it seemed to work..But, Peter succeeded in complicating things, again."

He emphasizes on the last word while staring at Peter accusatively. Peter flashes an innocent grin at him before agreeing with you.

" I promise to behave from now on. Please, dad ? Can I please keep my plaything ? It gets lonely around here when you're all running around, chasing your own tails over and over.."

You elbow him as a warning, but Derek is already shooting daggers in his direction, on the verge of growling in annoyance. Fortunately, Derek succeeds in keeping his cool and only sighs in defeat before walking away.

" Fine. But, I warn you, one more mistake and I'll personally kick you out.."

" Can't do that, chief. It's my house !"

Peter answers with a big shit-eating grin, but Derek frowns at him before looking straight at you.

" I was talking to you, Y/N..I can't allow you to become a weakness, we've got already too many and Peter is the master of manipulation, dont fall for his tricks. It's a warning, let it be not a premonition."

And with those last words, he is gone. You both stay still for a moment until you decide to stand up and make yourself a cup of coffee. The words of Derek are swirling around in your mind and you glance at Peter when you think he's not looking..Were you really just another pawn in his mastermind plan to bring down the pack ? He seems to feel your stare and points it out.

" If I didn't know you the way I do, I'd say that you actually believe this idiot.."

" Why did you protect me ?"

You ask him abruptly, still not sure about what to make of last night's rescue. He seems to thinks about it for a while before answering you with such honesty that it surprises you.

" Because there was no reason for me to talk about it..Unlike what you all think of me, I'm not such a monster. I feel no satisfaction in a young girl's life being ruined by such macabre events. I care about you more than any of the other dumb teenagers of your group, even my own cousin. You're nice, kind, smart and you don't judge. You never told me that what I did was despicable or that I didn't deserve to live. You did what you had to do and tried the best you could to help. I agree that we have had our disagreements, but it was always playful and never really serious. Why would I ever want anything bad like this to happen to you when you're the only person who ever believed that I could become an ally ? Tell me, how many people do you think ever read to me or felt safe in my arms ? Not even my own family ever believed I could change..So, yes. I protected you, because you would have done the same thing for me. Your strength remains in your humanity, Y/N. Stiles may be the voice of reason, but you're the voice of mercy.."

You are awestruck by the words that seem to be tumbling out of his lips and surround you like the warmest of blankets. You would be happy to listen to him all day. You genuinely smile at him and, before you could stop yourself, you kiss him. He relaxes under your touch and wraps his arms around you to close the gap between the both of you. He finally breaks the kiss and laughs softly before adding.

" You also have very nice lips.."

You playfully punch his torso before laying down on top of him, finding the rhythm of his heartbeat oddly soothing.

" You're a jerk..But you're still a good person.."

You whisper while closing your eyes and you can hear him snicker above you.

" Congratulations, you just qualified me with two opposites. Jerk and good normally don't go together."

You don't answer, already snoring softly on his torso. He smiles sweetly at the sight before kissing the top of your head.

" Sweet dreams, darling.."

[bruhlsbees]

modern!flatmate!andrea marowski headcannons (sfw)

shout out to @rumblelibrary for the idea!!!! :)) i hope you enjoy our sweet boy (now man?) and his love for birds. if you'd like to see more of modern!flatmate!andrea please let me know! also here is the link for the nsfw headcannons! minors pls dni with that one!

andrea marowski was a transfer student from a school in poland, studying fine arts with a concentration in playing the violin

coming to america was a bit of a culture shock for him - at first he planned on living alone, but the transfer program suggested he live with a group of people, that way he would have a better time adjusting

and so he did - andrea moved into a flat with five other roommates and got to experience the full american college life

he was terrible at cooking when you first moved in - you'd find what he was cooking still on the stove with andrea nowhere to be found - prompting you to finish the cooking so the house didn't burn down

the man was so scatter brained that you felt like you were taking care of a toddler - he had a hard time remembering to eat, since he was always playing the violin or doing school work - that you would always make enough for both yourself and him

"you need to eat, you know, i think playing the violin could wait until after a meal"

he'd shake his head, brushing you off as he sat down at his desk to eat

"i'm not hungry"

you'd laugh at his comment, sitting on his bed as you ate your own plate

"you say that because you think you've eaten. you go to make something and when you walk away and forget your brain tells you that you ate it. when really you haven't and your body is starving"

he'd look at you, eyebrows furrowed into a glare, although he looked more adorable than frightening

"rude" he would say flatly

and you'd laugh again, shaking your head as you ate

"it's not being rude, andrea, it's telling the truth"

he lived next door to you - and since the walls were thin you could hear just about everything that went on in his room

you knew that andrea played the violin, and you always were pleased to listen - but he didn't understand that playing the violin wasn't something you do at 3 a.m. while everyone was sleeping

andrea also liked to knock on your wall. your desks were positioned at the same spot on either side of the wall, and with the walls being so thin you could hear him just fine

"y/n, i print paper?"

you were the one to have a printer in your flat. you knew that you should have just put it in the living room or something, but you used it the most so it stayed in your room

andrea was always polite, asking to use your things and doing it in your room so he wouldn't forget to give it back to you - but he had a terrible senes of personal space

when you laid in your bed, he would lay beside you, and since he was taller than you, he took up more room, but didn't see the issue

"andrea, could you please move your feet? they are in my face"

if you were sitting at the dining room table, he'd sit beside you, only he'd move the chair so you were shoulder to shoulder

at first you thought he was only doing it to be funny - to bother you like an annoying brother would - but then you caught him staring, smiling at you with his cheeks pink

he would whisper things in polish towards you during these moments, but you never knew what he was saying - and he never told you either

they were cute names though, nothing bad - beautiful was his most favorite that he called you

andrea did a lot of odd things - one of the things he especially liked to do was play dead in the pool your flat had out back

you were all dressed in your suit, ready to go swim, when you'd find him floating face down in the pool

of course you'd scream, you always did and you started to wonder if that's what kept him going

when you'd shake him, plead for him to be alive, he'd open his eyes and grin at you, letting out a laugh as you shoved him away, turning to go back inside and to your room

but he'd catch your wrist, giving you his best puppy dog expression, before mumbling an apology

and of course you accepted it, how could you not when he looked at you the way he did

you always liked to float on a raft in the pool, baking in the sun - when andrea arrived though, and after some time, he liked to hang off the raft, his head resting against your stomach

again, personal space was not something he seemed to understand

and then came the obsession with birds

one of your flatmates was a zoology student, concentrating in ornithology - the study of birds

he'd invite andrea out with him in the mornings to go bird watching and when andrea had come home, he'd be doing his best to mimic the bird calls

"y/n, listen!" he'd plead, coming into your room and nudging you back from your desk to turn your attention towards him

he'd smile proudly and close his eyes to concentrate before pursing his lips together to whistle out a tune of a bird he'd heard that day

it was adorable and even if it were bad - which sometimes they were pretty awful to listen to - you always clapped, grinning afterwards

"wow, andrea! that sounds so lovely. i'm happy to hear you are enjoying the bird watching"

he'd nod his head and smile, taking your hands in his before pulling you out of your room, still seated in your rolling chair, and into his room

"we go sometime?" he would ask as he pulled out his violin to play for you

you'd smile, nodding as you settled into your spot to listen to him perform

and when he finally began to play, he stared at you so intently that you couldn't help but blush, earning a smirk from andrea

it was one night, when he was laying in your bed beside your, flipping through one of the bird books your flatmate had given him, that you realized that maybe you liked andrea more than you realized

he was terrible with remembering to wear his glasses, but whenever he would read in your room you'd always make sure he had them on

you noticed him squinting, reading something on the page he was on, confused by the wording

"p-plumage"

you turned, looking at him, "what did you say?"

he pointed at the word, silently asking you to say it to him so he knew how to pronounce it

"oh, yeah, you were right. it's plumage"

he'd go back to reading, his nose stuffed in the pages as he continued to read

"y/n..." he'd begin, glancing at you, "do you think plumage attractive?"

it threw you off and you genuinely only asked what he said because you didn't catch him

but he didn't take it that way, he thought you were teasing him and he quickly turned back into his book, his face growing red

"andrea...what did you say?"

he was silent for a moment before glancing at you again

"i think my glasses broke" he said, trying to change the subject

you shifted to your side and took his face in your hand, turning for him to face you, looking over him and at his glasses, shaking your head

"i don't see anything, you just trying to get out of wearing them? you don't wear them and you won't be able to read your bird books or sheet music"

without thinking, you kissed his cheek, pulling back almost the same time as when you leaned in, before being the one to blush now

despite it being your room, you quickly climbed over him and excused yourself to the bathroom, leaving him to his book

he'd smile as you leave, looking down at his book once again

"you have nice plumage"

if you were they you'd probably ask what he meant by it, seeing as though you had no feathers, but he knew that and he would be too shy to tell you what he really meant, and would shrug it off like he did when you asked what he said to you in polish

but inside he knew what he meant: your plumage was the color of your eyes, how they twinkled when they caught the light - how your hair framed your face, bringing out all his favorite features

your plumage was everything about you, and to andrea you were his favorite song bird

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“Fighting and Making Up” -The Pack Preference

Request:  For preferences you could do a two part of what y’all get into fights about and then make up.

        I wasn’t sure how to do this exactly, but I wanted to keep it lighthearted! I hope you enjoy :) 

Jacob: 

It isn’t something that happens often, but when it does Jake has no issue telling you that you done messed up. 

“Why didn’t you tell me there was a problem with your car?” 

“Because you’re so busy, I know you’re tired from patrol and hanging out with me. I didn’t want to bother you.” I say looking down at my feet. 

“Well, now it’s worse and needs more work. Don’t wait to tell me when something is wrong.” He shakes his head in disappointment. 

It doesn’t get very intense, he just usually gives a mini lecture about how damaging it is to my car. Not yelling, but the disappointed, annoyed tone someone gives when they don’t wanna yell. 

It’s usually making up by sitting in the garage, bonding over fixing whatever is wrong with the car. Keeping each other company, talking, and eating snacks. 

Seth: 

Seth is a loving boyfriend, caring way more than you thought was possible. He gets upset with you when you get sick but push it off. It causes some tension and frustration because he doesn’t like seeing you like that. 

“Please, my mom is a nurse. Let her look at you.” He pleads.

“Seth, it’s just a cold! I’ll be okay.” I reason.

“You don’t know that, it could be anything.” He pouts. 

Eventually, a few days pass and you end up being worse instead of better.

“Maybe if you had listened to me the other day you wouldn’t be this sick.” He says, making you your favorite soup. 

A lot of times he’s just more upset that you won’t make it easier on yourself. It usually starts out with an argument like one above, but you guys make up as he takes care of you, refusing to leave your side. He makes sure you take your medicine, makes sure you get rest, and is always ready to bring you food and water. Oh, and a lot of cuddles, can’t forget the cuddles. 

Leah:

Leah and you don’t fight often, but it’s often when you overwork yourself or spread yourself too thin. 

“(Y/N), why did you say you can cover their shift? You’re already working a shift that day, call them back and tell them you can’t. Plus you agreed to help Seth with his math homework tomorrow morning. And you agreed to volunteer at the shelter. Plus you need to do your paper and study for your final, it’s your senior year of college.” She says, frustrated. 

“Leah, you know I can’t say no. They need my help!” I defend. 

“I know, but you can’t do it all! You need to take care of yourself, make sure that you’re helping yourself. You’re making yourself sick with how much you’re doing…” She grabs for my hand. 

“I know, I know. I can’t help it, I hate saying no.” Tears brimming my eyes. 

“I’m not trying to make you sad, you’re just spreading yourself too thin. I hate seeing you like this, you’re ready to explode at the drop of a hat.” She pulls me into a hug. 

“I know, I don’t know how to fix it.” I let the tears fall. 

“I’ll help you. We’ll get you through this, but next time-- don’t do this to yourself.” She smiles, kissing me on the forehead. 

Afterwards she helps you get your stuff done, helping take the stress off your shoulders. Though, she reminds you constantly to stop taking so many things on at once. The night is usually filled with hot chocolate and cuddling by the fire, including long and loving kisses. 

Paul:

It was no secret that Paul always had the hardest time out of everyone in controlling his temper. Though, after he imprinted on you it did improve vastly. The only issue with this is that now he was a ticking time bomb when it came to the subject of you. He was one of the most emotional and caring people you’ve ever met-- which is why he had such a hard time controlling his temper at times. It happens every once in a while where he gets too jealous/protective over you and goes off the deep end, just a bit. It usually goes something like this:

“Paul, stop being pissed off.” I sigh, walking in our front door from the party we just had to leave. 

“No, did you see the way he looked at you? He hugged you for way too long. You don’t get the way he looked at you. If I wasn’t right there he would’ve absolutely tried something.” He huffs.

“Paul, he was my chemistry partner from a class three years ago. He was just saying hello. That’s the first and only time I’ve seen him since high school. He just hugged me hello, albeit very long but… you’re the only one I see.” I look deep into his eyes. 

“You didn’t hear what he said before he came up to you! He told his friend that he used to wanna get you in bed, and then said he still would. I just hate seeing other people look at you like you’re an object.” He walks over, hugging me. 

“Well, Paul you can’t fight everyone who checks me out or says something in poor taste.” 

“I know, I’m sorry. I just lose it sometimes when it comes to you.” He sighs, closing his eyes. 

“I know, I know it’s because you care. I love you, Paul.” 

“I love you, too.” He kisses my forehead, pulling me into a tighter hug. 

Lots of cuddling and snacks ensue, by the end of the night you guys always make up. 

Embry: 

Embry and you have been inseparable since you were kids. You guys dated before his phasing, and thankfully he imprinted on you. He was always overprotective, worried about everything you did from day one, and now that he’s phased and imprinted, he knows the real dangers out there and his feelings have only gotten more intense. It’s not always an argument per se, but it usually ends with him worried when you go out into the woods alone or just with one of your friends. 

“Embry, she just wanted to go on a small hike. It wasn’t even at night.” 

“(Y/N), it doesn’t matter if it’s day or night. You should’ve told me so I knew to make sure nothing happened to you, I can’t fathom what I would do if something happened to you.” He trails off. 

“I understand, but I didn’t know we were going into the woods. She just asked me to go while we were at her house, it was just the woods behind her house. I didn’t know I was going to or I would’ve mentioned it.” 

“Well, you went pretty deep for Quil to find you on patrol. I just need to make sure you’re safe, I can’t let anything happen to you.” His voice trails off. 

“I didn’t realize how far we went until after. I’m sorry, Em. I can’t exactly say anything about vampires or the pack to her. I didn’t mean to upset you, it was just a nice day to take some pictures.” I look down at my feet. 

“I understand, I’m sorry for getting so upset with you. Just try to send me, or all of us, a text. Just in case. I need to make sure you’re safe, always. I love you.” He kisses my forehead. 

“I will, I’m sorry again. I love you, too.” I push myself further into his chest. 

It doesn’t happen often, but if it does you guys make up and often lay in bed listening to your favorite music. A lot of cuddling, talking about how much you mean to each other, and back scratches. 

  Jared: 

Jared doesn’t really argue, he’s a snarky guy but overall one of the sweetest people ever. The one thing that always gets under your skin though is whenever you guys have somewhere to be or something to do, he always needs “five more minutes” to wake up. This wouldn’t always be such a huge deal if it was actually five more minutes, but after ten of those you’re set back almost an hour. 

“Jared. Get up, for real.” You throw a pillow at his sleeping body.

“Five more minutes.” He grumbles, clutching the pillow close to his body.

“You said that an hour ago! We’re going to be late.” You huff, getting onto the bed. 

“Don’t do it.” He pleads.

“Too bad.” You say, jumping on the bed.

You then have to deal with grumpy Jared for the duration of him waking up and getting ready to go, but he makes up for it by apologizing and leaving kisses all over your face before you leave, only making you later. He gets you your favorite snacks on the way home.  

“I won’t do it next time, babe.” He says as we walk out to the car to leave.

“Mhm, okay. You say that every time.” You laugh.

You buy him an alarm clock for Christmas. You buy another for his birthday. He keeps throwing them out.

Quil: 

While with the pack you were always witty due to your comfort levels, you didn’t always behave that way. You were always meek and nervous with confrontation with others. It all started in high school where Quil would get upset that you would let people talk to or treat you a certain way, earning no backlash from yourself. Quil began to stick up for you, smart mouth and all. It has lasted all through the years, even when someone was rude at the grocery store. 

“Quil, you don’t have to do that.” 

“Yes I do. You don’t stick up for yourself, it’s horrible. You need to stop letting people talk to you like that. I can’t sit there and let you take it.” He argues.

“Okay, but did you have to tell him that he looks like his mom huffed gasoline when she was pregnant? What does that even mean? What if she did?” I ask, astonished after the incident. 

“I did, I told him the truth. A lot of nerve for him to think he can say anything about you.” He scoffs. 

“Quil… I just ignore them because it’s easier, it’s so much easier than to get so angry.” 

“I get angry for you, it works. I love you, I can’t sit and let someone disrespect you.”

“I love you, too. Just chill out sometimes, okay?”

“We can agree to disagree, I can’t let someone disrespect my girlfriend. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” He kisses my cheek before pulling me over to our bed. 

After these kinds of situations, it usually ends with a lot of cuddling and watching funny movies to make us feel a little better. 

Sam: 

When you take too long to get ready and make a mess in the bathroom with all of your cosmetics he tends to get upset, especially when he has to get in there to get ready, too. 

“Please at least let me pee, you’ve been getting ready for an hour.” “I’ll be out in a minute!” I yell back through the door. 

“You said that ten minutes ago! What else could you possibly be doing?” He knocks again. 

“You can’t rush beauty, Sam.” I open the door. 

“You don’t need to spend an hour of your time to look beautiful, you look amazing when you wake up. But let me pee, now.” He runs into the bathroom, frustrated with how long he’s had to wait. 

“Thank you, Sam.” I blush from outside the bathroom door. 

Sam always respects the fact that you like to get dolled up sometimes before certain events, but cannot help but be frustrated at how long it takes you. It’s always a “just a minute!” from you, as you hog the bathroom counter. You make it up to him by not only cleaning the bathroom up immediately, but by giving him a sweet kiss. After you guys return, you cuddle and watch movies. You give him back rubs and spoil him with affection, promising to get ready quicker next time. 

__________________________

Word Count: 2028

[nagimitsus]

Title: somewhere along the line

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Synopsis: For all his delicate appearance, Venti has always been incredibly strong.

Diluc has known this from the start. Before the traveler entered their lives, before the battles, before he saw him standing in front of a dragon, ready to give everything in exchange for the freedom of another. And Diluc had thought, now that is how a god should behave.

That is someone I could believe in.

 [Read on AO3!]

For all his delicate appearance, Venti has always been incredibly strong.

Diluc has known this from the start. Before the traveler entered their lives, before the battles, before he saw him standing in front of a dragon, ready to give everything in exchange for the freedom of another. And Diluc had thought, now that is how a god should behave. 

That is someone I could believe in. 

It should come as a surprise, the amount of respect that he has gathered for the bard of melodious voice that makes himself at home only at his tavern. But it doesn’t. Maybe Diluc felt a pang of nuisance at first, when he thought of Venti only as a drunkard with too many stories to tell. 

That was before he came to know him. Before the nights when his smile became sad after too many bottles of wine, small and nostalgic and unfitting in such a bright face. Before he understood that there was still a raw wound behind those eyes of his, still bleeding as much as Diluc’s own. 

Diluc took the habit of offering him a glass of water and telling him to go home. The sensation of discomfort that nested his chest when Venti smiled up at him and asked what home was he talking about made Diluc wince.

.

At some point between that and the whole Dvalin situation, he stops asking Venti to go home and starts keeping him company until the silent streets of Mondstadt, illuminated only by the moon and the stars, call back for its bard. 

When Venti leaves, his smile is a bit more grateful and a lit less lonely, and Diluc tells him “I hope you find something more rewarding to spend your time on, tomorrow” but thinks See you later. 

Venti laughs. It sounds like a breeze. “What’s more rewarding than wine, I wonder?” he says, and has the audacity to wink.

Diluc sighs, because there’s nothing else he can do. 

.

The thing about Venti is that he doesn’t want to be worshipped. 

He doesn’t. It’s made clear in the way he behaves, the way he doesn’t stop too much in front of the church unless it’s to perform, the way he talks to the citizens of his country as if they were more friends than subjects. And it’s not because he likes the freedom that comes with anonymity, it’s not because of his own wants or needs. 

It’s because he wants them to be free, in this city where there are no tyrants and no gods. This city where they can follow the winds and their hearts alike, bound by nothing but their own ideals.

Diluc protects Mondstadt, fiercely. Because he loves everything it represents and everything it stands for. 

And likewise, he protects the god that gifted them all of this.

.

 Venti stops by the Winery of Dawn sometimes. Diluc finds him trying to steal wine or sleeping inside a barrel, and thinks: this is not a deity, this is a raccoon. 

Still, because he has a bit of faith left in him and because he used to go to church with his father back in the day, Diluc takes him by the back of his cape and into the house, where he makes sure he’s put to rest in one of their spare rooms, with enough water on his bed table to deal with the hangover. 

By the next morning he’s always gone, but the wind blows gently through the open window. 

Sometimes, if he’s still sober enough to string a few words together when Diluc takes him in, Venti laughs, and clings to his shoulders with both arms, and says things like “I can sing for you if you desire it, Master Diluc”, with that sweet voice blurry but cheerful. 

Diluc sits him down before the fireplace on those occasions, just so he can make sure that Venti drinks enough water and doesn’t do something like throwing up into his own mouth and suffocating on it.

What a troublesome bard, Diluc thinks. The thought is covered in affection anyway, and he has to sigh to himself at that. Venti blinks slowly at him, almost as if he could know what’s crossing his mind just by looking at him, and then he leans in his direction with a drunken smile that makes Diluc roll his eyes. 

��You,” Venti says, slowly but with intent, “are a very good person. Do you know that, Master Diluc?”

The reaction is immediate. Diluc can feel it start on his stomach and creep up until his head, his ears, his hands. It’s a fuzzy sentiment that makes home on his chest and purrs like a cat, a reminder of how good it is to be acknowledged. 

Diluc looks back at Venti’s eyes, clear even in his state. 

When he was young, he wondered how the truly religious felt. He asked Jean once, eleven or so, as little Barbara tried to sign in tone with the croaking of a frog. And Jean, always patient and warm, had said: I don’t think it can be explained.

But it can.

Diluc feels like he’s being hugged by a tornado and cradled by the breeze at the same time. It’s excruciating and infuriating and exhilarating, and it’s making a knot into his stomach, reddening his ears. 

He scoffs lightly, but his voice is not unkind when he says:

“And you are very drunk.”

Venti laughs at that, and the sound reverberates in the space of the room.

The only reason Diluc doesn’t leave is because he’s still afraid that Venti will throw up all over himself. 

.

(The traveler comes.

The traveler comes, they fight against Dvalin, and Diluc has to see Venti’s slender form fly across the battlefield when the dragon hits him once. Even when he gets up immediately, smiling through the pain, the knot that he made in Diluc’s stomach twitches and hurts. 

He makes sure to tell Barbara that the bard got hurt once they go back to Mondstadt, and ignores the perplexed look that he sends his way.)

.

Venti doesn’t come to the winery for a few weeks after the Dvalin incident, and they don’t meet up at the tavern either. Diluc would be worried, if he didn’t see him here and there, talking to Kaeya or playing a simple tune for Klee (who he seems to adore, if the warm look in his eyes as the little girl tries to harmonize with him.)

Diluc is not prone to lie to himself, so he doesn’t even try to deny that he misses Venti’s annoying presence. Still, since the traveler left for Liyue, the whole town seems to have subdued, its upbeat attitude turned into a dull sense of longing. 

Someone knocks on his door one night, almost sixteen days after he saw Venti for the last time. And of course, as fate would have it, it’s the bard himself who’s waiting at the other side.

Rain is not unusual in Mondstadt, even when they’re accustomed to a gentle drizzle, so most citizens have learned to take an umbrella with them when the spring is creeping on them.

Venti is dripping wet, and there’s something in the way his clothes cling to the line of his shoulders that make him straight up sad, almost pathetic. Still, the gleam on his eyes is a tell-tale that he’s been drinking, and the curve of his smile is too close to loneliness. It stirs something in Diluc, calls for the silent understanding of their nights in the tavern.

He doesn’t say anything, just takes a step to the side to let him in. 

The maids will find awfully unpleasant the wetness on the carpet, Diluc’s mind supplies, but it’s difficult to care when Venti smiles like rain and alcohol and apples, all mixed up. His mere presence tends to be intoxicating, with the way he takes so much space with his voice and his laugh and his music, but it’s even worse now. Maybe it’s because Diluc has become unaccustomed to it.

“Do you need somewhere to stay?” Diluc asks after a few seconds. Venti’s smile is still sad, but it’s there nonetheless. 

If this were any other person, the sound of the wind outside might have drowned their words. But Venti has never known how to be quiet, and so Diluc hears him without any trouble:

“You care about me, don’t you, Master Diluc?”

He sighs, and closes the door. The storm becomes a muted sound behind the wood and the steel, and somehow that adds to the intimate atmosphere that this scene carries. Diluc can feel it at his throat, the warning, the threat that comes with the closeness. He talks through it.

“I don’t think you’ve made all the way here just to point out the obvious, bard.”

He turns then, and Venti is still there, looking straight into him. In the pit of his eyes there’s an ancient kind of loneliness that makes him look terribly old. It’s in times like this when it becomes easy to think of him as a god. Again, Diluc thinks of what being religious means, thinks of kissing his temple and his hands until pink and red go back to his skin, thinks of drying his hair and lending him a bed.

That’s not the kind of devotion that a God requires. But for Venti, who would treat the cathedral built in his name just to see Klee smile, who dirties his hands helping Sucrose with her work and runs away from Diona between laughs whenever she gets angry at him, it might be enough. 

Venti laughs. The sound is enough to loosen the muscles of Diluc’s tense shoulders.

“I haven’t,” Venti says, and then he turns around and walks into the house as if it belongs to him. Diluc follows, waiting for him to go on. Since he doesn’t, he adds:

“I’m not going to serve you wine here,” just to make sure that’s out of the table. 

Venti hums, amused. He goes straight to the fireplace, sticking both hands in front of the flames. Diluc stops just three steps away from him, taking a few seconds to stare at the side of his face, shadows dancing over the curves of his nose, his eyebrows, his neck. 

“I lost something important,” Venti says at least, his voice soft, “and my power has decreased drastically.” 

Diluc frowns before he can stop himself. Venti looks at him with that same smile that doesn’t suit him, even as he’s winking, probably trying to downplay his own words.

“Worst possible time too, right?”

Diluc would know. The Abyss Order’s activity is still on rise, and the Fatui are getting bolder every passing day. He knows the Knights of Favonious are not good enough to keep them all at bay, not enough to protect all of Mondstadt, bound by the laws and diplomacy and their own duty.

Even so,

“I’m still here,” he reminds him, as if it was obvious. “And Jean will do everything in her power.”

Venti looks at him through the corner of his eye for a second before he’s turning his whole body, hands on his hips. He giggles again, and even though the sound is far off the usual, it doesn’t sound as tense as his last words.

“Are you saying you will protect me, Master Diluc?” 

Diluc doesn’t roll his eyes, because he’s not keen on the gesture, but he hopes that the expression on his face is enough to convey his feelings of fond frustration. One can’t be serious with Venti around unless someone is in immediate danger, it seems. 

“I am saying that if my actions can bestow some peace upon you, know that I’ll keep protecting Mondstadt.”

Venti takes a step in his direction, then another. When his hands close around Diluc’s white shirt, they leave wet marks that extend through the cloth under his fingers, cold against his skin. The flower on his hat has lost at least two petals in the rain, but his eyes are alive and  warm as they look straight into Diluc’s red ones.

He doesn’t feel the need to confess, doesn’t want to kneel down and ask for forgiveness for his sins. But he wants to keep Venti here nonetheless, in the intimacy of the room illuminated only by the flames. Maybe that’s a thought that needs absolution. 

“You,” Venti says, very slowly, “are a very good person. Did you know that, Master Diluc?”

He smirks, the little shit. Diluc doesn’t bother to answer this time, because he’s too busy trying to calm down the beating of his heart as Venti gets on his tiptoes, one hand going to his shoulder, the other remaining on his chest.

Diluc leans down into the kiss, and it’s impossible to think of a god when the laugh that he swallows in his own mouth it’s so undeniably Venti.

[flowercrown-bard]

You must have some review for me (1/ 2)

 pairing: Geraskier

word count: ~2k

read on AO3

part 2

summary: Geralt gives Jaskier three-word reviews and Jaskier is not very happy with them. Until he is.

---

"Fuck off, bard."

"How very dare you!" Jaskier clutched one hand above his heart, pointing the other accusatorily at Geralt. "I asked for a review, not for an impudence. At least the first review I ever got from you was constructive criticism, but you've only gotten worse since then."

Geralt shrugged and hid his shit-eating grin unsuccessfully behind a tankard. "You wanted three words and that's what you got."

Jaskier huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "That's it. I'll never ask you for your opinion again."

They both were very well aware that that was a lie. Still, Geralt said, "Thank fuck for that."

Jaskier narrowed his eyes. Oh, if this was how Geralt was going to be then Jaskier would not hold back either. He would pester Geralt for reviews until Geralt admitted that Jaskier was good. -

Jaskier knew Geralt hated the song. He had complained often enough about the length, subject matter and utter obnoxiousness of it.

So naturally, Jaskier kept adding more and more verses to The Fishmonger’s Daughter. Sometimes it was just too much fun riling Geralt up.

For now, the drunks in the tavern were eating it up, cheering for the song to continue. Jaskier beamed at them and happily obliged. Truly, he was having the time of his life.

Contrary to him, Geralt seemed to very much despise every second of this. He kept glaring at Jaskier, only interrupting his brooding by taking occasional swigs of his ale. He probably contemplated throwing the drink at Jaskier. Or maybe he just thought his performance was better when Geralt himself was drunk. Either way, Geralt’s thoughts were surely full of impertinence.

As provocatively as humanly possible, Jaskier danced past the table Geralt sat at and stared daggers at Jaskier.

In between lines, Jaskier stopped playing and stole a sip of Geralt’s drink.

“How do you like the performance, darling?” He asked, putting his hands back on the lute and playing a little flourish to distract from the fact that he had stopped singing for now.

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled in warning.

“Ah, that’s not a review, I’m afraid.” Jaskier winked at him and began making his way back to the centre of the tavern. “Give me a review and I might consider stopping. Three words or less.”

Geralt glowered. “Stop singing already.”

Jaskier’s grin widened. He continued playing.

-

“It was a forktail, not a dragon.”

Jaskier huffed and put his lute down. He should have known better than to ask Geralt for constructive criticism while he composed what might just be his most important song this year.

“Really, Geralt? That’s what you focus on?”

Geralt shrugged and leaned back on the bed of the inn they were currently staying at. “I don’t know what you want from me. All of your songs are inaccurate.”

“It’s not about accuracy. It’s about making the audience feel things. I need them to weep and to laugh and to fall in love with adventures as if they had experienced them themselves. So, what does the song make you feel?”

“Mainly annoyance.”

“Marvellous,” Jaskier said bitterly and flopped down on the bed, burying his head in his hands. He knew Geralt didn’t mean it, and any other day Jaskier would have laughed and teased him back, but Jaskier was stressed and stuck and he could really use some support right now. “I guess I’ll just try to annoy the judges of the most important bardic competition of the year into giving me points.” He groaned. “This is terrible.”

The mattress dipped when Geralt shifted, scooting a little closer. He radiated awkwardness and if he had been anyone else he might have started fiddling with his fingers in nervousness. As it was, Geralt just stayed quiet for an uncomfortably long moment, before looking at Jaskier from the side and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not terrible.”

Jaskier let out a quiet laugh. “Well, you’re terrible at giving compliments.”

“Wasn’t supposed to be a compliment. I’m just saying your song can’t be worse than Valdo Marx’”

Ever so slowly, Jaskier could feel a smile stretch his lips. Geralt could pretend not to care all he wanted, but remembering a name Jaskier had dropped only a handful of times when he had been talking about music in order to cheer him up, was something that proved his claims of disinterest lies.

“Of course I’m better than Marx,” Jaskier said and bumped his shoulder into Geralt’s. “And just you wait. When the judges declare me the winner, you’re going to regret having called my song only ‘not terrible’.”

Geralt grunted in disagreement, but he didn’t try to hide his almost proud smile.

That alone was better than any review Jaskier was likely to get from Geralt any time soon. He found that that was good enough. For now.

-

After Jaskier finished his last song of the day - this one not so much about any gruesome fight or danger but about the good parts of the Path, like the stars that shone brighter over the open fields than they did above any city - Jaskier didn't even have to ask for his three words.

As soon as he came back to the table Geralt was sitting at and snatched the ale out of Geralt's hand, as had become his habit, Geralt quietly said, "It was good."

The shock of the almost shy admission was enough to make Jaskier choke on the ale.

"Excuse me?” he rasped out between coughs. “Geralt are you alright? Do you feel sick?"

He reached out to put a hand on Geralt’s forehead in mock-concern. Geralt let out a grunt and turned away. If Jaskier hadn't known any better he have almost thought that the tips of Geralt's ears were tinged with a lovely shade of red.

A grin spread over Jaskier's face and he let his hand wander to Geralt’s chin, turning it so he could see his face again.

"I'm just asking," he said in a teasing tone, "because for a second there I thought I had heard a compliment coming from you. Not even one wrapped in an insult!"

"Fuck off," Geralt said in a strangely raspy voice, lacking any heat. "I take it back."

A laugh bubbled up in Jaskier's throat and he put his hand on Geralt's arm for balance as he threw his head back when the laugh finally escaped him. "Ah there you are. Still the same Geralt that I know and love."

He could feel Geralt's muscles clench under his touch, but Geralt didn't pull away.

"You're insufferable."

"I know," Jaskier said with mirth dancing in his eyes. "But you love it."

He took another swig of the ale, mostly so that he wouldn't have to see Geralt's reaction to his words.

As he sat the tankard down, a strange disappointment overcame Jaskier. He had gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? Geralt had finally given him the praise he deserved. And yet Jaskier didn't want to end their little game. He wanted to keep asking Geralt for his opinion and he wanted Geralt to keep teasing him with impertinent replies or give him this soft look as he told him his song was good.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt if Jaskier continued to play this game a little longer. - "You are good," Geralt said without looking at Jaskier. If Jaskier hadn't known any better, he'd have said that Geralt way avoiding his eyes.

"How unoriginal.” He rolled his eyes with a smirk. “You already said that last time."

Not that it mattered. He would gladly listen to Geralt tell him he was good over and over again.

"No I didn't." Geralt's eyes flickered up to Jaskier's for a second before darting away again. "Last time I said it was good. The song."

"Is there a difference?"

Geralt stared into the fire for a long time. His jaw was working as if he couldn't decide whether he should explain himself or not. Eventually he settled on a simple "Yes."

Jaskier raised his eyebrows, waiting for Geralt to elaborate, but no more words left Geralt's mouth. Jaskier kept searching his face with the sinking feeling that he was missing something crucial. -

Geralt didn’t talk. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered Jaskier too much. Over the time he had spent with Geralt, he had gotten used to his silence and to cheerfully filling it with his own words.

Except today it felt wrong to try and do so. Geralt was different. His silence was different. The way he had refused to look at Jaskier even once since returning from the hunt was different.

Geralt hadn’t told him what exactly had happened – what had gone wrong – but he didn’t need to. Jaskier had spent enough time with him to realise that the scratches on his face were caused by fingernails and not claws. He knew that the bruises blossoming on his skin were caused by stones rather than a monster’s body slamming into him. He knew that no fear caused by a monster could get Geralt into this unresponsive state. Only words of hatred and terror flung at Geralt, claiming that Geralt himself was the monster, could do such a thing.

Jaskier wanted to touch Geralt, to reassure him. To hold him close and tell him that he was better than anything he was told, anything that he thought himself. He wanted to whisper words of kindness into Geralt’s hair until he believed them. But Geralt’s back was turned to him and he was tense, ready to flee if Jaskier so much as took a step in his direction.

Jaskier fingers moved on their own accord. There were not words to this song. Geralt didn’t need words right now. He wouldn’t have believed them.

But as Jaskier’s fingers plucked away on his lute, pouring his understanding, his comfort, his love into it, the tension slowly eased out of Geralt.

Softly, Jaskier began to hum the tune, trying to tell with the melody what Geralt would reject with words. He could do nothing but hope it helped. He doubted it did.

Geralt turned, not with his full body, but just enough that he could watch Jaskier as he played.

When Jaskier eyes met his and found them full of some emotion he couldn’t name – something soft and vulnerable and achingly beautiful – his fingers faltered and his throat grew tight, choking his voice.

Something flickered in Geralt’s eyes and suddenly he looked strangely young and afraid. “Keep playing, please?” His voice was so small.

Jaskier’s heart broke for him. Slowly, as if not to spook a frightened animal, Jaskier came closer to Geralt until their shoulders touched.  

He kept playing and he could almost imagine that the faint rumble in Geralt’s chest was him humming in tune.

He didn’t imagine the way Geralt leaned into him and pressed his head into Jaskier’s shoulder as if being close to Jaskier was the only comfort he could imagine.

-

This song was terrible. It was objectively the worst and if Jaskier had had any audience other than Geralt, he would have been ashamed to even think about playing such a thing.

But like this, with only Roach judging him and Geralt looking at him almost fondly, Jaskier warbled away to his heart’s content.

“Roach, the mighty steed

Does many valiant deeds

So she deserves all the treats

Yes, on that, we can all be agreed!”

A toddler could have come up with better rhymes and the metre Jaskier used could not have been worse.

But he was laughing and enjoying himself as he sang this little ditty. There was something freeing about not having to worry about being good for once, in being allowed to sing as badly as he wanted to just for the fun of it.

Geralt didn’t laugh at him, didn’t even roll his eyes. Instead he had this look in his eyes that Jaskier had seen more and more often lately and that could only be described as fond. One of the rare smiles that only Jaskier ever got to see tugged the corner of his lips up.

Jaskier ended his performance with an overly dramatic flourish and gave an exaggerated bow to Geralt and Roach.

When he righted himself, he knew that his face was flushed; from the exertion of dancing, from the excitement of having carefree fun and from the wave of emotion brought forth by the soft look on Geralt’s face.

“Where’s my review?” Jaskier teased, his heart pounding in his chest.

Geralt rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. “You’re really never going to stop asking, are you?”

“Not until you tell me what I want to hear.” Jaskier cocked his head to the side and grinned. “Don’t be shy, you can admit it. That right there was a masterpiece. A song so great it shall never be surpassed.”

Geralt huffed, but his smile grew wider. He kept his mouth shut, almost as if he wanted to see how much longer Jaskier would go on with this ridiculousness.

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at Geralt playfully. “Come on, just say it. You know you love it.”

He jabbed Geralt in the chest, more to see his reaction than anything else.

Geralt caught his hand and held it right there against his chest. His smile grew impossibly softer.

“I don’t love the song. You want three words or less? Fine.” He brought Jaskier’s hand up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles. “I love you.”

[caramelcal]

Slow Down

Request(s):  Ooooooo could you do a Luke x reader fic based on the song Slow Down by Why Don’t We?

+  Anonymous said:Luke x reader? He’s on tour halfway across the world but all he can think about is spending time with his girlfriend?

Word Count: 2.1k!

a/n: hey! i know that this doesn’t fully cover the second request so if you want something completely based off of that, just request again! Thanks for requesting anyway and I hope you enjoy! Also did you guys see Madi’s lives today??? The cake decorating??? THE COVER?? MY EARS ARE B L E S S E D  update: not me forgetting to add tags

Masterlist

Oh, I've been lying to myself and I might know why I miss the way you looked at me before you left New York (hey) I've been tryin' to find help, 'cause I can't deny The way that I feel when I'm with you Oh, I'd do anything to save ya

He could hear the fans screaming in excitement, the overall chatter of them but he couldn’t enjoy it at the moment. How excited they were to see the band. He was filled with nerves, and even though he was born to perform as many would say, he still couldn’t help feeling nervous.

It was no surprise that Julie and the Phantoms had gotten big, their music was amazing. After they played at the Orpheum, they got a lot of recognition and only ten months later they were whisked up on a tour, a new album out only a month ago gone viral. Everyone loved them, and they were finally living their dream.

Luke loved performing, it was second nature to him, but being on tour was very different from playing in the garage with the band like he was used to. So whilst he basked in the glory of the fans, there were still nerves and that’s what he felt right now.

Checking his phone, his foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace, his guitar sitting to his right. Normally, playing his guitar would comfort him, but it wouldn’t right now, that’s why he needed you.

And thankfully, his worries that you weren’t going to answer as he heard your calming voice through his phone, “Hello?”

“Babe,” Luke replied, breathing out a sigh of relief when he let the nerves out of his body.

“Luke? Aren’t you supposed to be on stage right now?” You started, and he could hear the worry in your voice, “Is everything alright.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just nervous, that’s all. We’re just about to go on,” Luke informed you, eyes staying on the ground as he simply focused on you and not any of the fuss around him. Backstage concerts were always crazy like this, especially just before they started. No doubt someone would be through in a second to pester him about getting ready to go on stage.

“Luke, babe,” You said, your voice calming as you spoke to your boyfriend. You knew he was going to absolutely kiss it out there, he did every single time he performed, “You’re going to be amazing, okay? I’ve never met anyone as talented as you and the rest of the band. I’ll be cheering you on all the way from California.”

That brought a smile onto Luke’s face, making him bend down his face so he was facing the ground. He didn’t like everyone to know just how in love he was with you, and the beaming smile on his face would be a clear indication. It wasn’t like he was very good at hiding it anyway, he constantly talked about you, somehow managing to praise you like you were a god even if you did a simple task. He was completely and utterly in love with you, no one could deny that.

“Thanks, babe, I miss you so much. I will find time to see you at some point,”

“You better, I miss you too. Plus, who else am I supposed to jam with in the car when you aren't here?” You joked, laughing lightly with Luke.

Luke casts his hazel eyes up to the figure in front of him after catching on to the very professional shoes that stood just in front of him, catching eyes onto his manager, “Listen I gotta go, but I’ll call you tonight, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too, my rockstar,” You said teasingly, knowing that it always made Luke flustered when you called him that. It wasn’t long before you guys had finished saying goodbye and his phone was turned off and put away, guitar in hand as he was ushered on stage.

Yet, just before he got on stage, he stopped, whispering, “This is for you, y/n/n. I love you.”

And with that, he ran out, and the fans erupted into screams and cheers.

I think we need a little California 'cation We took a shot at this, but maybe we're too wasted It's hard to swallow, but I know we gotta chase it, oh

Slow down, I think that we just need to slow down, slow down  Turn around, things were so simple way before now, 'fore now

Turns out, that even if Luke did want to meet up, that the tour was far too demanding for that. It was two months since the time you called, and you guys still haven’t had the chance to meet up. Hell, you guys barely had time to facetime. Luke was on constant vocal rest, and the times he normally was available, you were in class.

It was safe to say, the distance, and the different time zones were definitely getting to you. Some people were too, saying how people go off on tours and lose feelings if their girl stays back home, they often find flings and extra stuff like that. You knew Luke wasn’t like that, and both Carrie and Flynn have cussed the girls out for putting that in your head when it was obviously not true, but you couldn’t help but think about it sometimes.

Luke barely picked up your calls anymore, and you knew that what he was doing was very time demanding, but you thought that at least he would make a bit of time for you. You guys did text of course, but you often wouldn’t get around to replying to each other until hours after so it wasn’t a stable conversation. You thought about flying out for a weekend, or taking a few days out of school and flying somewhere to meet him, but your college student finances were not stable enough for that and you didn’t want anyone’s help, not even Carrie’s when she offered.

After being deprived of your boyfriend for so long, you often found yourself wallowing alone in your college dorm, but that wasn’t where you were right now. Flynn and Carrie had somehow managed to drag you outside to a party, a red solo cup in your hand and a fancy top on with some nice jeans. You contemplated drinking but found yourself denying any alcohol that went your way, getting drunk probably wasn’t the most responsible way to go.

Yet, as you saw the couples, some sweet ones holding hands or hugging, and some a little more...heated, you couldn’t help but drown in the thoughts of him. This was supposed to be a distraction from your wallowing, but you felt even more miserable here than you did back in your dorm room. You wouldn’t be for long though, not when you found out who was here.

See ya, I wanna see ya, ah  I wish you weren't so far so I could see ya, ah  'Cita, mamacita  We were comfortable, we didn't understand but now we know

Two weeks before the party, Flynn found herself on her bed, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram before her phone went. She quickly answered, seeing Julie’s face pop up on the small screen with a smile. They talked for a while, just catching up and Julie shared some concert and fan stories before she asked, So how is everyone? Carrie? y/n?”

“Carrie’s doing good, Dirty Candy is slowly getting some recognition for themselves, I see a tour in their future,” Flynn said with a smile, trying to distract Julie from the subject of y/n. She knew that most likely, the boys would be close by, and she did not want to tell them how miserable she was without them. That would only damper their moods.

“That’s so cool! I’m really glad, they deserve it. How’s y/n?” Julie asked, a smile on her face but as she looked at the hesitation on her best friend’s face, she knew something was wrong, “Flynn, is y/n okay?”

However, Flynn quickly found out that her silence was not helping her in any way, and when Julie asked about y/n again, Luke who playing about with his guitar in the corner of the room caught onto her concern. He stood up, alarm flooding his features as he walked over, taking the phone from Julie.

When his face showed up on the video call, Flynn could see his concern and worry and it made her eyes go wide. She knew there was no getting out of this, “What’s up with y/n?”

“Nothing, she’s fine,” Flynn tried her best to dismiss, laughing awkwardly but when she looked back to the camera she could tell that Luke was not buying it.

“Flynn.”

“Really! She’s-”

“Flynn! You do realize this is my girlfriend?” Luke said, raising his voice slightly to get the girl to stop rambling, which she did. Luke was only growing more concerned for his girlfriend and annoyed at the girl for trying to keep something about his girlfriend away from him, “I wanna know what’s going on with her.”

“She’s just,” Flynn hesitates, trying to think of a way to make this easier on Luke without lying to him but she realizes that she needs to be straightforward with the guy. Sighing, she starts, “y/n misses you to the point that she holes herself up in her dorm, and only comes out for food and classes. Hell, she hardly gets out of her pajamas anymore, Luke. She’s taking this a lot harder than she’s telling you.”

Luke went quiet, a frown forming on his face when he realized what his girlfriend was doing. He knew that she couldn’t keep going on like that; he still had another two months left of the tour and she would have wasted months of her life locked in her dorm. He casts a glance towards Julie, before looking back at Flynn, “I’ll sort this out. I’ll send you the details once I work them out but clearly, something needs to change.”

And with that, Flynn hung up and Julie and Luke started to plot a plan...

I think we need a little California 'cation We took a shot at this, but maybe we're too wasted It's hard to swallow, but I know we gotta chase it, oh

Slow down, I think that we just need to slow down, slow down  Turn around, things were so simple way before now, 'fore now Slow down, I think that we just need to slow down, slow down (need to slow down, slow down, whoa) Turn around, things were so simple way before now, 'fore now (things were so simple way before now)

“Y/n!” Carrie calls out, grabbing your attention from the red solo cup in your hand. You look up at her, giving her a small weak smile.

“Hey, Carrie,”

“You enjoying the party?” She asks, hands on her hips as she looks around the room with a smile on her face. She had a fitting golden dress on, much fancier than what you were wearing but you didn’t care.

You tried to wrack your brain for what to say, and how not to offend Carrie about her party. Her party wasn’t bad, you just...didn’t want to be there, “Uhh, it’s alright, yeah.”

“Well it’s about to get a lot better,” Carrie says, a wide smile coming on her face as she looked behind you, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

Then, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You whirled around and saw him take a few steps away, a wide smile on his face. You stood there, shocked, this couldn’t be real, he was on tour. He wasn’t here, he couldn’t be.

But then, you sprinted, jumping into his arms, head leaning against his shoulder with your legs around his waist. He held you close to him, savoring the moments of you just being in his arms; something he had not got to experience in months.

Everyone at the party watched on but didn’t say anything, fond smiles on their faces for the reunited young couple. For you and Luke, however, it seemed as if you two were the only ones in the room, because no one else mattered at that moment.

You pulled your head up from his shoulder, eyes meeting his as the wide smiles that were on your faces only growing wider, never fainter. When you next spoke your voice was quiet, almost as if you believed if you spoke too loudly he would go away, you would realize this was just a dream, “Luke, you- you’re here.”

“I am y/n/n,” He whispered back, nodding his head as he leaned in and softly kissed your hips, your hands going to each side of his face, playing with the soft messy hair that he had. With eyes shut, you stayed in each other’s embrace, simply enjoying the moment, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Don’t leave me for so long ever again, I can’t live my life without you.”

Let's just say, you two were never parted for too long after that.