#my god i forget to tell you about the thick ass eyebrows

[omgeto]

☆ COVER UP — tattoo artist!GETO SUGURU

summary: all you wanted was a cover up tattoo to replace the name your ex left on you. you didn't think you'd be leaving the tattoo shop with a replacement for your ex's tattoo and a replacement for him as well.

wc: 3k

cw: afab!reader, geto gives you backshots, he's kinda obsessed w/ your ass here, unprotected sex (since I forget condoms) BUT he's a gentleman pulls out </3 your kinda a meanie. he's kinda a meanie so light angst (?) but barely. MDNI

an: haven't posted a longer work in a hot minute, but here is how you meet tattoo artist boyfriend!geto soooo give this one a chance big fanks to my lil twat @kazushawty for helping me out and reading bits of it.

as you push open the heavy glass door of ‘cursed ink studios,’ a subtle bell chimes softly, announcing your presence. instantly, the atmosphere inside crackles with an electric charge. the air is thick with the intoxicating scent of ink, mingling with the sterile bite of antiseptic. the walls are adorned with vivid flash art form a chaotic tapestry, while the rhythmic hum of a tattoo gun echoes through the room.

and there he is, geto suguru – a tall, enigmatic figure with jet-black hair and sleeves of mesmerising tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. he sits at his workbench, surrounded by an array of ink bottles and tattoo machines, his piercing eyes never leaving the art he's creating. a carefully curated playlist of music plays softly in the background, punctuated by the occasional buzzing of the tattoo gun.

he glances up from his intricate work as you enter, his gaze slowly travelling up and down your form. there's a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as though he's wondering why you, of all people, have ventured into his sacred space. his expression, however, suggests that he's far from thrilled about the interruption.

"need something?" he asks, his irritation evident.

"i need a cover-up” you swallow your nerves, holding your head high, your voice steady, ”my ex's name."

geto raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by your request. "ex's name, huh? you people never learn."

your jaw clenches at his condescending tone. "well, i'm here now, so can you do it or not?"

he continues to scrutinise you, his gaze feeling like a judgmental weight. finally, he nods, albeit reluctantly. "fine, show me."

with a sigh of resignation, you turn around, your heart pounding as you pull down the waistband of your jeans just enough to reveal the offending name covering your left ass cheek. it's a constant reminder of a relationship gone wrong, and you're more than ready to be rid of it.

"this won't be easy," he mutters, his fingers cool against your skin as he traces the outline of the name. his touch lingers, just a little too long, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. his fingers, skilled and confident, continued to trace the inked letters of your ex's name on your skin — almost toyingly. and you could feel the chill of the tattoo parlour's air-conditioning contrasted by the warmth of his touch.

his voice, though still gruff, held a trace of disgust "who did this?" he asks, not looking up from the tattoo.

you hesitate, your memories of that past relationship flooding back. "my ex-boyfriend," you reply tersely.

geto's fingers stop their tracing, and he lets out a low, almost imperceptible sigh. "you let your boyfriend do a shitty tattoo on you, and you let him make it his name," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "you practically let him brand you."

“is it your job to be such a bitchy artist?” you snap, already fed up by his comments. you’ve heard it from your parents, your friends, ever since you got that trashy tattoo. but couldn't disagree with that sentiment — you knew it was a shit tattoo. “i thought i was paying you for your artistry, not your smart mouth.”

"listen," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "you walk in here with that god awful mess on your skin, and you've got the nerve to criticise my attitude? if you want to be rid of it, you'll do well to keep that attitude in check, sweetheart."

you bite back a retort, realising that you've indeed crossed a line with your comment. there's a palpable tension in the air now, a simmering anger beneath the surface, and it seems that geto has no intention of backing down.

with a deep breath, you swallow your pride and offer a reluctant apology. "i'm sorry," you mutter, a touch of remorse in your voice. "i shouldn't have snapped at you."

he continues to hold your gaze for a moment, his expression still stern, before finally nodding. "apology accepted."

you didn’t actually have an idea of what you wanted for the cover up, you just knew you needed it gone. geto was a highly sought out cover artist so you had no doubt that he’d be able to do you good. with your initial meeting being heated, you thought it was best to leave him to do his thing.

with a sense of relief that the confrontation has subsided, you decide to give geto some space to work his magic. "i'll leave you to it," you say, your voice quieter now, and you turn away from him.

"good," he mutters, his focus fully on his ipad as he starts to sketch, not even looking as you leave the shop. 

geto usually was quick to draw up tattoo sketches for clients, but when it came to you he was stunned — too busy thinking about how your ass looked rather than what he was meant to tattoo on it. from the moment you stepped in his shop, he was intrigued, you didn’t see the type to get work done by him and the marking stretched on your ass didn’t seem like it would belong to someone with an attitude like yours. 

his mind was anything but focused on the design. he couldn't help but replay the encounter with you in his thoughts, your brashness and the way you'd stood your ground, even under his scrutiny.

"why the hell did she get that shitty tattoo?" he mutters to himself, his fingers deftly working his pen. the sketch was beginning to take shape, but his mind kept drifting back to the curve of your ass. he couldn't deny the attraction he felt, and it frustrated him. he was supposed to be a professional, detached from his clients beyond the art he created on their skin. but something about you had thrown him off balance.

“so you ready to get this tatted on you?” is the first thing he asks when you return the following day. you inspect his sketches in awe, of course you never doubted his talent but you didn’t think he’d be able to draw something you wanted without you even having to say.

“well it seems you do live up to your reputation,” you comment with a neutral facade, but you both know that you were downplaying your excitement — you were pleased. and like with any client, that made geto satisfied that he was doing his job correctly. but when he saw the way your eyes lit up when he initially showed you the sketches, it was a sight he wanted to see again. “i guess we can start the tattoo.”

“okay i’ll get my stuff set up, get rid of those,” he says nodding towards your jeans, “and lay down when you’re ready.” you slip yourself out of your bottoms, leaving the itty bitty thong that you knew you’d need for the appointment and that a small part of you hoped he liked.

he pauses when he sees you laying down on the seat in his station, your head resting in your arms, your ass slightly raised.  ‘this is gonna be a long session,’ he thinks to himself as he smirks, shaking his head as he works his way to his seat.

as he sits down, he places the stencil over your ass, and you berate yourself for getting giddy at the feeling of him rubbing over the design to make sure it was in place — wishing that his hand stayed for longer. 

“how are you with pain?” he asks, and from the way you were laying you weren’t able to see the way he was gawping at your ass.

“what type of pain?” you retort.

“y’know the type of pain where someones drilling into your ass for hours,” he comments as if it’s obvious but you both knew his words were hinting at more than just the tattoo.

“choice words there,” you muse, “but any type of pain i’m alright with, so give me your best.”

geto's needle hovers just above your skin, poised for action. "you sure about that?" he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive.

a coy smile tugs at your lips as you respond, "I can handle it if you can."

with a deliberate, almost tantalising slowness, he lowers the needle to your skin. the first touch is a sharp, stinging sensation, but you refuse to flinch. you're determined to hold your own, to meet geto's challenge head-on.

he continues to work, the needle dancing across your skin with a practised precision. the room is filled with the rhythmic sound of the tattoo machine, creating a hypnotic backdrop to your growing tension.

as minutes turn into hours, you find yourself lost in a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. the pain is undeniable, but there's something oddly exhilarating about it. you steal a glance at geto, his intense focus on his work, and you can't help but wonder if he's enjoying this as much as you are.

"still doing okay?" he asks, his tone a mix of concern and something more primal.

you bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan that threatens to escape. "i told you, i can handle it."

geto smirks, his gaze locked on your ass as he continues to tattoo. "you've got quite the threshold for pain. impressive."

“is it really? i'm sure you’ve worked on a lot of other clients with higher thresholds for pain.”

“but none of them have had an ass like yours though,” he mumbles to himself — but you hear him loud and clear, a grin forming on your face at the confession. “anyways, we’re all done now, go ahead and look in the mirror.”

you stand in the full length mirror, your head slightly turned at an angle as you gawp at your ass. your eyes widen seeing what was once your shitty exes name, now turned into a piece of true art. 

“so what d’you think?” he asks, and you didn’t even notice him coming to stand behind you until you felt his breath on the back of your neck, “this shit is hot right?”

“you can say that again,” you agree, keeping your eyes focused on the tattoo, trying to ignore the quickening of your heart beat at the presence of him, “this is really great though, like i couldn’t imagine my ass could look this good after having that tattooed on on it all his time.”

“well no need to imagine anymore,” geto’s face forms a smiling grin, you can tell he was admiring way more than just his artwork, “you mind if i take a picture… for my instagram?” he says, barely asking as his phone is already out of his pocket and is in his hands, he looks up at you for permission and you give a slight nod before he’s snapping away at your ass.

“are you sure this is for your instagram,” you tease, as he continues to take photos crouched down, as he circles your ass with his phone, “or is this just for your personal wank bank?”

“would you like it to be?” he retorts back swiftly, there wasn’t even any mischief in his eyes as he looks up at you, just pure lust.

“um i–” you stutter, only now feeling exposed — as if he hadn’t been working on your ass already for the past six hours.

“don’t get shy on me now,” he coos, standing up to face you head on, “y’gonna let me finish off making you forget that ex or yours or what?”

“be my guest,” you respond, trying to come across as nonchalant, but the eager look in your eyes gave geto all he needed to know. 

he pushes you softly, as he commands, “hands against the mirror and spread your legs.” and you do just that, as he comes behind you, fitting in between your legs perfectly. his hand forces ur back down, deeping the arch of your spine before both of his hands grab onto your ass.

geto really rubs and digs his thumbs into your cheeks, biting his lip at the sight at the way his fingers mould into your ass. “fuckk man,” he groans out, he’s not even in you yet and he was already obsessed with every inch of you. 

he frees his dick from his pants, and pumps it quickly before sliding it across your already gushing slit. you hiss at the contact, a pleased smile working its way on your face as the tip of his dick edges into you.

“s-shit,” you stammer, as he inches himself into you deeper, “w-what about the rest of the shop?”

“what about them?” he shrugs, “you don’t want them to hear naught you’re being right now? HEY GUYS—”

“oi,” you hiss out, your eyes widening as you turn your head to look directly at him.

“i’m just playing, i’m not ready to share you quite just yet,” he retorts, his dick moving in you at an achingly slow pace, “now, keep your eyes focused on the mirror, and you better not let those hands slip.”

before you can respond, he thrust his hips into you as deep as he could, his dick slamming into you. you moan out at the surprising force, trying your best to keep your palms flat on the surface of the mirror, as you stare straight at him — watching how he works his hands from your ass to your hips so he can drive into you with all of his force. 

“this pussy is s-so fucking good,” he praises, the sloppiness of your cunt making it easy for him to slide his dick in and out of you. “oh and this ass,” he continues giving a hard spank on your ass cheek, to emphasise his point, “c’mon throw your ass back on my dick, i wanna see it bounce.”

you fuck him back, doing exactly as he says, your ass meeting his hips with the same amount of force. his spanks encourage you to be quicker, to give him everything he wants. his repeating, strong strokes, have you feeling weaker, your hands slipping as you try to stay up right, when all you want to do is collapse and cum everywhere. 

“f-fuckk it’s too much,” you whine, as he drills into you.

“nah,” he says, shrugging his head, “it’s not enough,” he lifts up his legs, his digits pressing into your deeper, as he now angles his strokes even further into your pussy, hitting your spot with ease. “give it to me harder, i know you can” he encourages, another two swift spanks landing on your ass.

with his continuous contact of your ass and his hips, and the way his dick pushes into you deeper, you felt like you were splitting in two. but you kept going, thinking back to your earlier conversation, you didn’t want to prove him wrong, you wanted to show him that you can handle it, handle him.

geto was practically beaming, licking his lips feverishly at the sight of your fucked out face through the mirror as he watches himself plough into you, your body rocking forward with every thrust. his eyes concentrate on your ass, as he says, “d’you see how your rocking my work on you now?” and you nod dumbly, too busy trying to reach your climax to string a sentence together, “so fuck that ex of yours and his shitty ass tattooing, from now on you only can me on your body, you got that?” he asks and you nod again, but he shakes his head, his hand moving from your waist to your chin as he grips it making your eyes stay locked on his through the mirror, “i said do you got that?”

“ahhh s-shit yet i do, i do,” you say, mirroring his words, “i will only have you on my body, ‘promise.”

“good girl,” he approves, giving your chin a squeeze before letting go, “now cum.” 

with those simple words, you release all over him, your stance getting weaker, as you shoot out cum all over his dick. he’s quick to pull out of you though, stroking his dick as he sprays his cum all over your ass, with a deep groan.

your hands are still on the wall, as you take deep breaths, trying to recollect yourself. but you turn around swiftly seeing a flash of a camera behind you, and geto is back to crouching down, with his phone out, taking pictures of your cum covered ass.

“you mind if i keep these in my wank bank forreal this time?” he asks, smirking as you nod, “i’ll take some more later, but i got two questions to ask.”

“and those are…” you say, prompting him to continue.

“first, let me take you out after this?” he asks with a smirk, already knowing the answer. after the way he just dicked you down, you’d be a fool not to let him wine and dine you, “second, y’gonna come suffocate my face with that ass of yours or not?” you couldn’t even answer the second question since he’s pulling you down to the floor with him, with a joyous grin on his face.

AN: IGNORE THE FACT THAT HE CUMS ALL OVER UR FRESH TATTOO. LIKE JUST IGNORE IT. just focus on the fact that you have a lovely ass and geto loves it too. but yes do you want to see more, I HAVE ENOUGH IDEAS TO EVEN MAKE A LIL MASTERLIST FOR IT. I love tattoo artist boyfriend!geto so so much, like when u guys become an established relationship it actually gets so good. BUT I DONT REALLY LIKE THIS ONE, BUT IF U GUYS FW IT I PROMISE ILL ACTUALLY WRITE AND POST THE ONES I LOVE. BUT I FELT LIKE I HAD TO WRITE THIS FIRST SO YOU COULD SEE HOW U AND GETO STARTED. LMK UR THOUGHTS

[insidekatmind]

More than friend~Kenan yildiz

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

You’re still laughing when Kenan turns off the TV. The movie you’ve just watched has turned out to be a crappy comedy instead of the thriller you’d chosen. The couch in his house is comfy and soft, and you’re sunk into the cushions, legs crossed and your face still red from laughing.

“I didn’t think I’d laugh this hard tonight,” you admit, running a hand through your hair.

“Me neither,” he laughs, tucking a pillow behind his back. His eyes shine in the dim light of the living room. “But at least we had fun.”

You nod, heart beating a little faster than usual. Kenan has been your best friend for years, yet lately there’s something different between you. Something that you feel grow every time he looks at you in that kind, yet insightful way.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asks, standing up from the couch. His smile is disarming, so natural.

“No, I’m fine,” you say with a shy smile. The two of you remain silent for a moment, and then, almost without thinking, you add, “I like being here with you.”

His eyebrows raise for a moment, surprised by your sincerity. But then he smiles, a warm expression that seems to slide over you like a hug.

“I like having you here, too,” he admits, sitting back down next to you. This time he’s closer, so much so that your knees are touching. You feel a shiver run across your skin.

“I have something I need to tell you,” he says softly, his voice lower, more serious. “For a while now… I’ve noticed that I think of you differently. Not just as my best friend.”

You hold your breath. Those words are exactly what you’ve been trying to ignore, what you’ve tried to repress every time your heart beats too fast in his presence.

“Me too… I feel the same.”

For a moment, the world stops. Then, slowly, Kenan brings his face closer to yours. His eyes lock onto yours, seeking one last confirmation. You nod slightly, and his warm breath mixes with yours.

When his lips touch yours, it is sweet and intense at the same time. A kiss that tastes of promises never said and feelings finally confessed. His hands gently touch your face, and you let yourself go, forgetting everything else.

When you pull away, his eyes shine brighter than ever.

“I think this changes things, right?” he says with a slight smile.

“Maybe so. But I’m fine with it.”

And for the first time, you realize that being there with him is exactly where you want to be.

Kenan kisses you again and in the meantime he takes off your skirt and panties and drags you astride him.

Kenan's hands grip your hips firmly as he pulls you onto his lap, your bare bottom pressing against his growing arousal. His lips crush against yours in a passionate kiss, tongues dancing and exploring. He breaks away, panting softly.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. His hands roam over your curves, squeezing and caressing. "I've wanted this for so long."

He lifts you slightly, fumbling with his belt and zipper. You hear the sound of fabric rustling as he frees himself, his hard length springing up. He positions you above him, the tip of his cock brushing against your wet folds.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with lust and concern.You nod, biting your lip.

You moaned and kissed his jaw. "So big."Kenan's breath hitches at your words, a smug grin spreading across his face. "You like that, huh?" he teases, his hips rolling up to meet yours, driving his thick length deeper inside you.

His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the firm flesh as he helps guide your movements. "You're so fucking tight, it's like you were made for my cock," he groans, his lips trailing kisses along your jawline.

He leans back slightly, his eyes roaming over your body possessively. "Look at you, riding me like you own me," he praises, his voice low and husky. "You're so damn sexy."

You smiled at his words and caressed his chest as you continued to ride him. Kenan's chest rises and falls rapidly beneath your caressing hands, his skin hot to the touch. He watches you through hooded eyes, his pupils dilated with lust. "Fuck, your touch drives me crazy," he groans, his hips bucking up to meet yours.

His large hands span your waist, gripping you tightly as he guides your movements. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts. "You're so perfect, so fucking perfect," he pants, his words slurring slightly.

Suddenly, he sits up, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you onto your back. He settles between your legs, his thick length still buried deep inside you. "I need to be in control," he growls, his eyes intense as he begins to thrust into you with renewed vigor.

His powerful hips snap forward, driving his cock deep into your soaked pussy. The new angle allows him to hit that sweet spot inside you with every thrust, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. "Yes, just like that," you cry out, your nails digging into his back.

Kenan's face is flushed, his eyes wild with desire as he pounds into you relentlessly. "You're mine," he growls, his voice possessive. "Say it. Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," you pant, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. "Only yours, Kenan. Forever yours."

Those words seem to ignite something in him. He kisses you fiercely, his tongue dominating your mouth as he continues his brutal pace. The room fills with the sounds of your moans and the creaking of the couch beneath you.

"Come for me," he demands, his hand snaking between your bodies to find your clit. He circles the sensitive nub with his fingers, pushing you closer to the edge.

As his fingers work your clit, Kenan's thrusts become more erratic, his own release approaching. "Come with me," he grunts, his voice strained. "I want to feel you squeeze my cock as you come undone."

Your body responds to his command, your inner walls clamping down around his throbbing length. "Kenan!" you scream, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body convulses beneath him, your juices flooding his cock and balls.

With a final thrust, Kenan buries himself deep inside you, his own release finding him. He groans loudly, his hot seed pulsing into your contracting pussy. "Fuck, yes," he pants, his hips jerking as he empties himself inside you.

He collapses on top of you, his sweaty body pressing you into the couch. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both catch your breath. "That was incredible," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You smiled sweetly and stroked his hair. Kenan's eyes flutter closed as you gently stroke his hair, a contented sigh escaping his lips. He nuzzles into your touch, his arms tightening around you possessively. "I could stay like this forever," he murmurs, his voice soft and sated.

After a moment, he lifts his head to look at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "You're amazing, you know that?" he says, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "I'm so lucky to have you."

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. It's different from the passionate kisses of earlier, this one is softer, more loving. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours. "I love you," he whispers, the words sending a flutter through your heart.

"I love you too," you reply, smiling up at him. "More than anything."

He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good. Because you're stuck with me now. I'm never letting you go."

And as you lay there in his arms, basking in the aftermath of your lovemaking, you realize that you wouldn't have it any other way.

[ellieinink]

The Trouble with Admitting Things

Baek Kang-hyuk x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor, Light Slow Burn

Warnings: Mild teasing, secondhand embarrassment

Word Count: ~6,500

Synopsis: After a grueling shift, you accidentally admit to admiring Dr. Baek Kang-hyuk—big mistake. He seizes every chance to tease you, turning your embarrassment into daily entertainment. But when the teasing gives way to unexpected sincerity, you realize admiration might not be so one-sided after all.

You should have known better than to let your guard down around Baek Kang-hyuk.

Especially not when you were running on fumes, too exhausted to keep up your usual defenses.

It had been a brutal shift at the trauma center—back-to-back emergencies, rushed procedures, and a never-ending stream of critical cases. The air had been thick with tension, every second spent making life-or-death decisions. But despite the chaos, the team had worked together like a well-oiled machine, with Kang-hyuk at the helm, cool-headed and sharp as ever.

And now? Now you were all slumped in the break room, desperately clinging to the last ounces of energy in your bodies.

The scent of instant coffee mixed with antiseptic filled the air, and you nursed your mug as if it held the key to your survival. Across from you, Dr. Park Gyeong-won sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples.

“I think I lost about five years of my life in that last hour.”

Jang-mi, one of the trauma nurses, groaned. “Forget years, I think my soul left my body when that last code was called.”

There was a chorus of agreement.

And that was when your sleep-deprived brain betrayed you.

“Honestly,” you muttered, stretching your sore neck, “if it weren’t for Dr. Baek, half of us wouldn’t have made it through that shift.”

The moment the words left your mouth, the room fell eerily silent.

You blinked, sluggishly registering the amused looks being exchanged.

Gyeong-won raised an eyebrow, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “Oh? Is that admiration I hear?”

Jang-mi, who had just taken a sip of tea, nearly choked. She slammed her cup down, eyes wide with exaggerated shock. “Wait, wait—our Dr. Baek?” Her gaze snapped to Kang-hyuk, who was leaning against the counter, watching the scene unfold with an infuriatingly smug expression.

“Did you hear that?” she gasped.

Dr. Yang Jae-won, who had been lazily sprawled in his chair, perked up. “Wow, (Y/N). That’s high praise coming from you.” He smirked. “You usually just call him an insufferable ass.”

Your stomach dropped. Oh, no.

“I meant professionally,” you blurted, suddenly very aware of how hot your face felt.

Kang-hyuk chuckled, arms crossed, his smirk widening. “Professionally, huh?”

You shot him a glare, but he was enjoying this way too much.

Unfortunately, so was everyone else.

“Oh, don’t backtrack now,” Jang-mi teased, practically vibrating with excitement. “We all heard it.”

Gyeong-won leaned forward, chin resting on his hand. “So, tell us, (Y/N). What exactly do you admire about Dr. Baek?”

You swore you felt your soul leave your body. “Can we not—”

Jae-won smirked. “Is it his surgical skills? His confidence? His broad shoulders?”

Jang-mi gasped. “His hands, maybe?”

“Oh my God, stop—”

“Or is it,” Kang-hyuk drawled, tilting his head, “my charming personality?”

Your entire face went up in flames.

Kang-hyuk took a slow step closer, voice rich with amusement. “Why are you blushing?”

“I am not—”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“No—”

“You are.”

“I swear to—”

Jang-mi gasped again, dramatic as ever. “Oh no. What if it’s actually his hands?”

Gyeong-won feigned deep thought. “It’s the hands, isn’t it?”

“I HATE ALL OF YOU.”

Kang-hyuk grinned, full-on thriving in your misery. “So, (Y/N),” he mused, “do you admire my hands?”

You considered throwing your coffee at him.

The problem with Baek Kang-hyuk was that he never let things go.

Ever.

For the next week, he found every opportunity to remind you of your unfortunate slip-up.

During morning rounds: “(Y/N), you seem distracted. Thinking about my hands again?”

During surgery: “You’re staring. I get it. My technique is admirable.”

Even in the middle of a high-stakes procedure: “Focus, (Y/N). Just pretend it’s me guiding you with my admirable skills.”

It was relentless. And the worst part? Everyone else was in on it.

Jang-mi started taking exaggerated notes whenever Kang-hyuk spoke, dramatically whispering, “Such admiration,” under her breath.

Jae-won? He would randomly sigh in the middle of conversations and lament, “If only someone admired me the way (Y/N) admires Dr. Baek.”

Even Park Gyeong-won, who was usually the most mature of the bunch, just smirked whenever you shot him a pleading look.

You were never going to live this down.

The tipping point came when Kang-hyuk—absolute menace that he was—walked into the break room while you were alone, arms crossed, looking far too amused.

“You know,” he started conversationally, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh no.”

He ignored you. “Since you admire me so much, maybe I should return the favor.”

You groaned. “Please don’t.”

“But there’s just so much to admire,” he continued dramatically. “Your sharp tongue, your ability to withstand my teasing—”

You threw a napkin at him. He dodged easily.

“See?” he grinned. “That resilience. Very admirable.”

You contemplated homicide.

It all came to a head late one night.

You were in the on-call room, exhausted, head resting against the back of the couch. The door creaked open, but you didn’t bother looking up.

“If this is about my admiration comment,” you grumbled, “I am going to scream.”

A chuckle. “Relax. It’s just me.”

You cracked one eye open to see Kang-hyuk standing by the door, hands in his pockets. He looked… different. Less teasing. More thoughtful.

You frowned. “What?”

He hesitated before stepping inside, closing the door behind him.

“Listen,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I know I’ve been messing with you a lot, but…” He exhaled, looking almost—shy? “It actually meant something.”

Your breath caught. “What?”

“What you said.” His voice was quieter now. “That you admired me.”

You swallowed, suddenly unsure where this was going.

He let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle. “I don’t really hear that a lot. Not from people who—” He trailed off before shaking his head. “Anyway. It was nice. Coming from you.”

Your heart did something funny in your chest.

“You admire me?” you repeated dumbly.

His lips quirked. “Someone who keeps me on my toes? Someone I—” He paused before smirking, voice dropping to something softer. “—also admire.”

Your brain short-circuited.

“I—what—”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “Relax, (Y/N). It’s just admiration.”

Your face burned. “You’re the worst.”

“I know.” His grin widened. “But at least now we’re even.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

Baek Kang-hyuk just laughed.

I’ve got a Yang Jae-won fic cooking in my drafts… should I??? 👀👀👀

taglist: perm @missroro @study-with-reine234

[little-ghostgirl-31]

Think you the shit? Bitch? You not even a fart

Reyno solis antsy

-100 y/o + only / cursing (🙀) / only for those who know / 999999999999+ spice level 🥵🌶️

Fic request by @radkatzzstuff

Reyno was sitting in the cafeteria in the cohorts when he heard this nasty ass Bleach blonde, bad built butch body hoe talking shit about him from behind his back. Reyno, knowing he was not about to take this shit. Especially from a girl named ‘Emily’. Tf? Like, ain’t no way this bitch really think she can talk when her hair is so blonde she looks bald and you can’t see her eyebrow. Especially since she had a stupid ass slick back bun. She was for real feeling her self into, which is really confident for someone who was wearing tight ass lululemon leggings that were way too small, and a purple shirt. Like…

“ excuse me?! What the actual fuck did you just say about me? “ reyno said, walking up to this jackass. “ oh! Guys looks it’s the furry!! Ha!” Emily said. By the way she said that I can tell that she doesn’t take showers and only uses ten dollar five and bellow Sol de Janeiro knock off as a way to cover up her green aura.

“ oh hell no “ reyno said clenching his fists, holding back everything he had to not slap this bitch in the face. “ you really think your the shit-… “

Reyno said before cutting himself off, he knew he could go off on her, but he also knew damn well that this bitch would run and tell her mum. “ you’re not even a shart!! “ reyno said, biting his lip trying not to laugh. Of course that was a crazy ass come back but it would have to do the job.

Emily’s eyes widened, she was not expecting that. She stayed slightly for a moment before smirking, knowing what the she was gonna say back “ do I think I’m the shit? Of course I’m the shit, I’m the biggest, stinkiest, wettest shit you’ve ever seen!! “

…

She really thought she ate saying that. Reyno raised his eye brow, forget what the first thing, that’s the most crazy come back ever. Damn. “ okay bitch, since you the shit, guess Ima have to flush you, hoe “ reyno responded while grabbing her hair and dragging her to the bathroom. Emily screaming and kicked her legs like a spoiled child. She cried so loud, reyno was getting on his last nerve. “ if you keep crying I’m going to make it worse, I swear to the gods. “ reyno mutters, rolling his eyes

As soon as as reyno made it to the bathroom, he stuffed her into the toilet. Leaving only her head to be seen, as the rest of her body was down the drain, like skibidi toilet. Reyno flushed her down and she screamed “ Nick Eh 30 freaky fanum tax Let him cook tiktok rizz party Thick of it i like my cheese drippy bruh 💀💀 Quandale never fails to ice spice mrbeast kai cenat 😂😂😂😂 Ishowspeed !!!!!!!!!!! “

Reyno rolled his eyes as he started to walk away, but then out of no where. The toilet exploded, a large shit monster crawling from out of it “ IM THE SHITTER BUNNY IM THE SHITTER BUNNY, IM THE SHITTER BUNNY IM THE SHITTER BUNNY !!!!!!!!!!!!!! “ the monster crawled onto the walls with all fours, chasing reyno. But then from heaven. Big dick Randy came and snatched the shitter bunnies ass. Leaving reyno unharmed. Happily ever after

[free-for-all-fics]

Part 2 of my Modern Lioncourt Saga ft. Rockstar Lestat and you as his sister! Again, special thanks to @une-lueur-dans-la-nuit for the French and other additional dialogue! Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of this and I’d love to read it! 🎸❤️🩸

Part 2: Gossip is a Girl’s Best Friend

Juliette spends the Lyft journey to your and Lestat’s place girding her loins for what she might find. You only sent her a vague text telling her that she looked like someone who could hang, so she should come over ASAP and bring her makeup bag with her, followed by a second text in all caps emphasizing to NOT forget the makeup bag, then a third text that was just a bunch of heart and kissy face emojis. Having worked for you and Lestat as long as she has, she knows that that text could either mean you want to celebrate something and are feeling giddy, or you “went overboard” as you like to call it, and now need her to make arrangements to dispose of a dead body or two that are hanging from the ceiling before the housekeeping comes in to clean up any other traces of your wild night. There’s a very real possibility it could be either a grumpy, monosyllabic you and/or Lestat answering the door covered head to toe in blood, eyes dilated from anger or lust, (That’s the problem with vampires; their pleasure and their wrath often look the same.) fangs poking out, or it could mean you and/or Lestat being drunk off your asses from drug- and alcohol-infused blood and melting into giggly messes as you let loose and abuse your vampire powers - the Cloud Gift to float, both literally and figuratively high as kites and bouncing off the walls, the Mind Gift to freeze time and puppeteer people, etc., all to pull crazy and stupid pranks for your entertainment. She’s been warned about when either of you are in one of your moods. She knows by now it’s almost always either a party or a massacre. The cacophonous sounds of loud rock music, indiscernible chatter, and laughter coming through the intercom as an unknown man, probably a security guard, comes on the screen only confirms what she already knows to be true.

“Do you have an appointment?”

Juliette leans over the driver so the guard can see her. “I’m Juliette, Mr. And Ms. Lioncourt’s PA. I just wanted to—”

“Employed by the Lioncourts or not, all visitors are required to make a reser—”

You shoo the guard away. “Get back to work! Go walk Mojo or something! What is it? Who are you? What do you want?” You press your face closer to get a better look. You can see it’s Juliette. “My god, you’ve gotten even fatter.” You almost smash the keypad as you buzz her into the house that’s more like a mansion, complete with a wrought iron gate that slowly opens, allowing Juliette’s Lyft to drive through. “Come in. Come, come.”

The cacophony of loud music blasting and nearly 200 guests, both vampire and human, chatting and yelling amongst themselves as they gorge themselves on food, alcohol, blood, drugs, and sex nearly makes your and Lestat’s house shake and vibrate. The lights, the colors, the sparkles and the glitter, the sounds, and the smells nearly make Juliette’s senses overwhelmed.

“Oh hey, babe!” You fling open the door and wrap your arms around her. Your corset, stockings, short skirt, and heeled boots combined with your jewelry, hair, and makeup make you look like a princess that’s a mix between the Rococo/Baroque period of France and 80’s gothic glam rock. Juliette’s eyebrows almost hit the ceiling. This is…unexpected. Yet not. The house is heaving with people. A mess of half-dressed bodies bouncing to the music with the beauty of oiled-up professional dancers, some in drag while others are stripping. From the corner of her eye, Juliette can faintly catch a glimpse of people drinking blood and/or having sex in “private” rooms only sealed off by velvet curtains. Like a very debauched music video, all body glitter and taut torsos, the air is thick with the scent of weed, sweat, blood, and sex. It’s repulsive and intoxicating at the same time. Whatever the fuck is happening here, it’s about a whisper away from an orgy. Not that you or Lestat are morally against that. You and he could fuck them and then eat them. Neither of you would turn down dinner and a show.

You take Juliette by the hand and, together, you retreat from the crowd and the noise to the relative calm of your massive bedroom upstairs, complete with an in-suite bathroom and two spacious walk-in closets which, luckily, is separate from Lestat’s room. You’ve half-joked before that if you and your brother had to share a room, you’d probably fuck or murder each other in some drugged and sleep deprived delirium after consuming blood from intoxicated people.

“Sorry about the chaos and the mess. Lestat and I decided to throw a house party to celebrate the release of our new album and the end of our tour. Usually the After Party is enough but, since tonight is the last show, we really wanted to go all out before taking a break from touring to work on the next album and book. Go out with a bang, as they say. Except we’re taking it literally. Don’t worry, though. My and Lestat’s bedrooms are strictly off limits, so nobody has been in there except us and whoever we invite in. We’re safe in here for tonight, and then we’ll get our maids to clean up and spray down and disinfect everything with alcohol so that, by tomorrow morning, this place will be looking brand new.”

Juliette gives you a look like she doesn’t believe you.

“I’m serious! The floor will be so clean you’ll be able to eat off of it. Yum yum! Anyway, thanks for coming. I’m looking forward to you being there tonight. I know this was unexpected of us. Lestat and I are often unpredictable, so I really appreciate your flexibility. Do not get the wrong idea about this, though. We’re not like friends or anything.”

“Oh yeah, I know.”

“No. It’s just that you’ve cleaned up after Lestat’s and I’s bloody messes and covered up our murders so many times I was starting to feel bad. Like, I don’t know, I need to throw you a bone soon or it’s gonna be bad karma. Like my Porsche or house is gonna get swallowed up by a sinkhole or something. I don’t know. What are bad things that happen to people? Only good things happen to me because I do charitable work like this. Je suis une sainte. (I’m a saint.) So my actual friends are gonna be here at 11. I asked you to come early because I figured you were gonna come looking…like this…and we need plenty of time to do something about it. You know the last thing I need is for you to embarrass me in front of my friends with…this whole look.”

“We’re going through this again?”

“Yeah. So I wanted this to be a one-on-one thing so I didn’t call Lestat. Usually we do everything together but I wanted this to be one-on-one. But now that we are rockstars, have our own makeup brand and fashion magazine, and are writing our own books in response to Molloy’s trashy bestseller, we started off on a really high note and we want to keep riding that high. So before I accept you into my friend group, we really have to do something about your look.”

“I thought we weren’t friends?”

“Hush, babes. That’s why I called you over today. No offense or anything but we need to maintain a certain image. Before you buy anything, you have to consult with your friends just to make sure, you know, that we like the outfit because, sometimes, you might have tastes or you might like something that one of us doesn’t like and, if we don’t like what you’re wearing, we’re not gonna ask you to join us because we surround ourselves only with people that will obviously be bringing our reputations up, not dragging them through the mud. Like we have a really good name for ourselves so that’s what we do. We ask each other for advice and, if I can be totally honest with you, just keep this our little secret, but my and Lestat’s opinions are the ones that matter the most. Andy’s great. Tough Cookie’s…wonderful. And Larry is…Larry. But my and Lestat’s opinions are the ones you want down pat, okay? Because we pretty much made them who they are. Like, they weren’t anything before so we pretty much made them who they are today. D’ailleurs (by the way) where were you on Saturday?”

“I can’t remember.”

“What do you mean you can’t remember? Saturday? Hello? Weekend? You didn’t come to my party. Why is that?”

“Oh, I had a family dinner to attend.”

“Family dinner? How sweet. Dinners don’t run until like midnight, though, so where did you go after?”

“I went to the mall.”

“Uh huh.”

“My cousins came from out of state and I wanted to spend time with them before they went back home.”

“What do you mean you wanted to spend time with your cousins? Okay. You could’ve just brought them with you, you know. Are you coming with me to the After Party tonight?”

“I can’t come tonight. Sorry.”

“No? Why not?”

“I already made plans and have to get up early tomorrow.”

“For what? Clarinet practice or something? Qu’elle ingrate.” (She is so ungrateful.)

“I’ve got a date, so I ca—”

You cough in surprise and fan your face. “I’m sorry, I think the dry shampoo fumes are getting to me. Did you say a date? Oh my god. What a world we live in, like literally anything can happen. Kind of beautiful when you think about it. I didn’t even know you had a crush on anyone. So, spill, spill, spill.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Oh my god, it’s okay, you can tell me.”

“I’d rather not. It doesn’t seem appropriate. Since you’re like, my boss…”

“Why not? Because we’re not friends? Okay, well, I’ve just decided we’re friends now. So now that we’re besties officially, I hope you’re aware that if at any point, you do happen to develop a crush, no matter how small, you are legally obligated to inform me and your secret will be safe with me. I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

“But vampires can read minds, though…”

“Ugh. If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay. Fine. I have eight of them - wait no, seven. Why do you look so surprised?”

“I just…uh…thought it would be more, given your...” Juliette is too afraid to finish her sentence by saying “age.”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like trying to meet another vampire?”

“Um…”

“It’s totally impossible! There’s maybe only a hundred of us in the world at any given time and the majority of them are total dicks. Trying to increase the vampire population is a fool’s quest. You make one, and two go insane and kill themselves the same day. And there’s no vampires in this city, except for Lestat.”

“Ew.”

“I know. I thought about it. Il est beau. (He is good looking.)”

“Ewww!”

“Well, what am I gonna do?!”

“You’re gonna do your brother?!”

“NO! I just thought about it!” You huff and move your hair out of your face and behind your shoulder. “One of my crushes used to be Grace, but I forgot, last week, I overheard her tell Stephanie that she doesn’t think Sheila should be made to feel embarrassed or sent home for coming to work without makeup. Isn’t that insane? Like what is wrong with some people, seriously? It’s just the cavalier disregard for our employee appearance policy. So now Grace has been officially moved from my crush list to my hit list, which is…five people. Yeah. Five. I’m proud of myself for that. It used to be…fifty-three. It shrank so much - not because I killed those people or anything - but just because one of my new century’s resolutions was to forgive and forget. All of my enemies from the last century have been pardoned. Even Richard. That guy stuck gum in my hair because I didn’t wanna go to Phantasmagoria with him. That was a hard one to let go of, but I did it. I did it in the name of personal growth.”

“Very impressive.”

“Your turn. Who’s the lucky cutie?”

“Kevin—”

“Kevin? Are you serious? Like larper Kevin? Répugnant. (Gross.) Ugh, babes, are you actually trying to kill me? Anyone but larper Kevin…. Yesterday at lunch I saw him eating baked beans. What is that, like Shrek food? Répugnant. (Gross.) Oh my god. Girl, you are so out of his league. And I never thought those words would be coming out of my mouth but, Jesus, you can do so much better. “

“I don’t know, I like him…”

“But yeah, whatever. Heart wants what the heart wants, I guess. And your heart wants Mr. Dungeons and Dragons from the Renaissance Faire. Good for you. So here we are, I guess. Better any date than none. How did he ask you?”

“He left a little note in my locker. It was very sweet actually.”

“He left a note in your locker? Aww, is he like shy or something? That’s cute. Ou pas.” (Or not.)

“He’s going to meet me at the concert and we’re gonna go out to eat after, then we have a date tomorrow morning—”

“Aww, and where’s he taking you tomorrow?”

“Coffee and then Barnes and Noble. He said, ‘I’ll get you whichever book you want.’”

You snap your fingers. “Okay, work, Kevin’s got a little game. Make sure you pick out a fat hardback and a plushie. Barnes and Noble always has the best selection of plushies. I swear like half of my Squishable collection is from there. Be careful, though. Girls get crazy trying to grab the one they want. Nearly lost my life over a rainbow caterpillar one time. I came out on top though, of course.” You tap your nails together. “These nails are both fashionable and functional. Okay, I’m thrilled for you about this date but I do have some uh…concerns. Are you planning on stopping at home first to get ready?”

“No, I’m going to meet him as I am now.”

Your eyes widen and you suck in air, seething through your teeth as you try not to physically grimace. “Ummmm. Are you aware that you look like a crypt keeper or not?”

“Come on, it’s not that bad!”

“That’s what I thought! Here’s what’s going to happen: You’re gonna sit back and relax and I’m going to do the heavy lifting, the miracle working I’m so known and so loved for. I love makeovers. You’re gonna look so amazing by the end of it.” You pull Juliette by her hands to get her to move to a different chair next to your vanity mirror, where all your supplies are. You want to be able to get a proper look at her with your ring light.

“Oh my god, where to begin, where to begin? I guess the main emergency staring me right in the face right now are the creatures lurking above your eyeballs. Girl, what are these eyebrows? You have like a unibrow situation going on. Not pretty. Literally possum mode. C’est fou comme cette fille se moque de son apparence! (It’s crazy how this girl doesn’t care about her look!) Mmkay. Well, I could just fix your unibrow if you want.”

“My unibrow…? I don’t have—”

“Huh? Oh, I didn’t mean like you have a unibrow or anything, I’m just saying like, if you want, I could fix the situation happening between your eyebrows is what I meant.”

“Sure?”

“Okay, cool. So the first thing we’re going to do is definitely work on this situation right here because…you have really great eyebrows, but…they just need a bit of structure, you know? Let me just get rid of that for you. You don’t wanna look like a gorilla.” You start to shake your bottle of cleanser. “You’re not wearing any products on your eyebrows, are you?”

“Nope, don’t need to!”

“Yeah, thought so. But you never know.” You spray the cleanser on a makeup removal pad. “Maybe you’re lying to me like Armand, that crazy psycho skankaroodledoo...”

“What—?”

“But anyway. I’m gonna wipe around your eyebrows just in case you’re lying.”

“I’m not!”

“I know you’re not, but like…you know, just to be on the safe side. Wipe away debris and stuff, whatever. Okay. Come closer. You have such nice eyebrows, oh my god. I wish I had your eyebrows. Mine are such a mess. Just gonna remove that spot right there and see if you’re lying to me. I don’t think you are. Oh, look at that. Clean. You were telling the truth. That’s good. I guess I should start trusting you a little bit more but I have major trust issues because you know the things I’ve been through and like, you know me. Mais c’est la vie.” (But this is how life is.) Let me get in there with some tweezers. Luckily for you, these are industrial strength titanium limited edition 5770’s Rubis Switzerland. Yeah, I don’t think anything less would quite cut it. No need to worry, I am an eyebrow virtuoso. Everyone in the whole studio comes to me. I wouldn’t expect you to be quite clued in enough to be aware of that, but yeah. I am known internet-wide as ‘The Eyebrow Girl.’”

“The Eyebrow Girl?” Juliette tries not to laugh.

“Well, yeah and I think you can see why. Okay. So now I’m just gonna go ahead and shape your eyebrows, okay? Just hold still. Let’s get in there and get them in a more respectable shape. Let’s get in between there.”

“Ouch!!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, did that hurt you? Sorry, I don’t, like, know my own strength. If I’m hurting you, just let me know, okay? But like…try to handle your pain tolerance. Women aren’t wimps. Well, real women aren’t anyway. We can handle our pain. Right? So just hold still—”

"Sister, I'm back home!” Lestat’s voice is loud enough to be heard over the voices and music blasting from downstairs, even though he just came through the front door.

You don’t answer him back, focusing on Juliette.

“Sister!! Why aren't you here to greet me!? Where are you??" He yells, his voice more insistent and having an almost whiny tone to it.

"I'm upstairs," you groan in annoyance.

Lestat rushes upstairs, opening your bedroom door. He lurks in the doorway, pouting by the lack of attention he got from you, his precious, darling, baby sister. “Knock, knock! Hi, girls!”

“Lestat! Leave us alone! I’m trying to give my friend a makeover.”

“Oh parce que c’est ton amie maintenant?” (Oh, because she is your friend now?)

“Elle fait de son mieux et c’est important que je fasse attention à mon karma.” (She is doing her best and it’s important that I take care of my karma.)

“Ah je vois. C’est vrai qu’elle n’est ni jolie ni très intelligente… Tant mieux pour elle si tu t’intéresse à elle!” (Ah, I see. It’s true she isn’t pretty nor smart… good for her if you are interested in her!)

“Parfait, nous sommes d’accord. (Perfect, we agree.) Can you go now?”

“I just wanted to know if I could get you anything. Tu sais, comme je suis un frère aimant et attentionné… Pas comme tu peux l’être avec moi.” (You know, since I'm a caring and loving brother…not like you can be with me.)

“No, we don’t want anything, thank you. Bye.”

“Are you sure? Not even some champagne?”

“Bye.”

“Or some blood?”

“Bye!”

“Oh, but Sister—”

“Oh my god.”

“Anything at all—”

“Lestat. I swear, you’re like a child som— Wait… Is that my top?”

“No…”

“Lestat! I’ve been looking for that!”

“It’s yours?”

“That’s what I said! You just decided you were gonna borrow it without asking?”

“We’re siblings, we shouldn’t have to ask. What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours. You can go into my stuff and borrow whatever you want at any time. What were you saving it for? You haven’t even worn it.”

“Because you took it from my closet without asking or telling me!”

“You weren’t going to wear it tonight though, so…let me borrow it. I’ve already been to the mall and it sucked!”

“Are you going to wear it to the concert tonight?”

“Yeah…’cause it’s a cute top— I just—wanted to borrow it…”

“Fine, whatever. Just give it back when you’re done.”

“Je t’aime?” (I love you?)

“Great. Bye.”

“Come on, Let me stay. We can play 'boyfriend/girlfriend' like we used to. This looks an awful lot like a slumber party and isn’t it a rule to always share the bed and play games at slumber parties?”

“If you really want to be here that much, are you going to help me with this? Or are you too pretty?”

Lestat pouts even more. “I’m too pretty.”

“Then why don’t you go bleach your mustache instead of being needy and annoying!?”

“You didn’t even say ‘I love you’ back. Tu es si méchante avec moi.” (You’re so mean to me.)

“Love you too.”

Lestat finally leaves.

“Mon dieu, he is so weird.”

“He really lov—” Juliette starts, but gets interrupted by you holding up a hand.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to be quiet for just a second ‘cause I don’t wanna accidentally over pluck and then you’re just gonna hate me. Can’t have that, sooo. Too many other people hate me. Well, at least I’m not Celeste. She thinks the whole world hates her ‘cause she hasn’t been invited to the Immortals’ Ball by Lestat or I.”

“The what?”

“You remember Celeste? She did your hair for you last time.”

“No, no, the part about the ball.”

“Oh, right. You don’t know what the Immortals’ Ball is. Okay, so now that we’re like friends or whatever, I’ve got to clue you in on all the current gossip. All the important happenings around here. Definitely can’t have you being around me and Lestat and oblivious. You might say the wrong thing to the wrong person and cause irreparable social damage but this should all stay between us, okay? Good. Like top secret. Highly classified information.”

“I won’t say a word, I promise.”

“So the Immortals’ Ball is the largest party of the year in the vampire community. It’s this really big, lavish affair. Lestat and I first began hosting it at our family castle in Auvergne in the early 19th century shortly after our transformations and the deaths of our remaining family members. Only the most elite vampires are invited. There’s a very strict social criteria you must meet to get an invitation. You must be ancient, rich, fashionable, influential, or famous. Anybody who’s anybody is there. The only humans in attendance either work for us, like you, or are food. Lestat and I did something similar in New Orleans with Louis and Claudia but we put a twist on it and, instead of vampires, we invited humans and gave boutonnières to whoever we picked to kill. We fasted for three days so the blood would taste all the more sweeter when we gorged ourselves. It was 18th century Baroque/Rococo themed. We dressed up all in white and had our wigs and makeup styled to perfection, there was a parade and Lestat was Raj, King of Mardi Gras, so we got to perform on a float, we hosted a masquerade ball… It was absolutely immaculate and decadent. It was just like the old days in Paris. C’était divin, mais les temps changent. (It was divine, but times/things change.) Everything was going perfectly. Well…until Lestat and I started choking and vomiting up blood. Claudia poisoned us. She and Louis slit our throats. Lestat and I bled out so much, we would’ve died if Louis hadn’t decided against burning us in the incinerator and stuffed us in old trunks instead. We survived by feeding on rats and other vermin in a landfill.”

“That’s quite mean… Who are they though?”

“Who’s Louis and Claudia? Claudia was like a daughter to Lestat and a niece to me. Louis was Lestat’s companion and lover, and he was a good friend. Whatever you do, don’t mention their names to Lestat, okay? Claudia…died, and Louis left. It’s still a painful subject for him, and Louis collaborating with Daniel to write that book of lies about us hasn’t done anything to help Lestat get over Claudia’s death or Louis’ leaving. It’s a story for another time. Leave the subject alone for now, okay?”

“Yes, of course. I won’t bring it up again unless you do.”

“Anyway, we started missing our old ways, right? So we are planning for this year’s ball. There’ll be music, costumes, Cirque du Soleil performers, seances, demon summonings, witchcraft... There’ll be this - well, hopefully if I can get one - this really big like ten foot blood fountain where everybody can, like, help themselves and I’m going to try to speak to Christine and see if she can get human celebrities. Cela sera l’évènement de la décennie!” (It will be the event of the decade!)

“Human celebrities? What for…?”

“I was kind of thinking we could just maybe lay them on the table and everybody could just help themselves but I think that would be a little bit tacky. So I thought maybe we could just suspend them from the ceiling and then people could have their photo taken with them and just have a little snack or something. But I’m not really sure which one I wanna go for. What do you think?”

“I’m not too sure. I’m not a party planner or event coordinator… But you were talking about Celeste, you know…”

“Oh yeah…I was telling you about Celeste. Celeste has been our stylist for centuries. She provides us with all of our beauty treatments. She has looked after us for many, many decades now. She has been coveting an invitation for our Immortals’ Ball ever since she graduated from the College of Undead Beauty. Unfortunately for her, it’s never going to come. She says it’s because we just keep forgetting her invitation, which is a lie, by the way. We totally do not. Nous n’oublions jamais rien. (We never forget about anything.) Lestat and I invited our nail tech last year and she’s still butthurt about that. Don’t get me wrong, while Lestat and I do our own hair and makeup most of the time, she still does amazing work. I can understand why she’s upset. It doesn’t seem fair that she’s the one providing all the glam, and all the niceties for all vampires that go and every single year she’s the one that stays behind. She must feel like Cinderella. She keeps saying her invite got lost in the mail, and I keep saying that it’s not personal, she just doesn’t fit the criteria we’ve put in place for guests.”

“It sounds personal though…”

“If it was personal, I’d bring it up to her how she’s just always been…too much of a people pleaser, if that makes sense. She’s always been obsessed with rising through the ranks of the vampire social hierarchy. Always willing to pull out hair, nails, and teeth - even her own - to get people like Lestat and I whatever we wanted. One time I sent her to Tommy Hilfiger’s daughter’s house to buy a dress off of her that I wanted. It looks better on me than it does on her. Celeste would often show her affection for Lestat or I by being at our side as much as possible and trying to say or do whatever she thought would keep her in our good graces. Once, when Lestat was very, very, very upset, he turned to Celeste and drained her of nearly all her blood during a sexual tryst. He then left her naked on his chaise to recuperate alone and considered it a kindness he didn’t just throw her out onto the curb.”

“Oh my god!”

“I don’t condone what he did, I just think it’s weird, the effect Lestat and I have on people - even other vampires. More recently, Celeste tried to get into the limousine with Lestat and I to go to an After Party after one of our concerts, but he pushed her out and slammed the door in her face. She had to get a ride separately from us. Oh my god, that reminds me, at that same After Party, Celeste was hitting on Lestat’s most recent human partner all night. Celeste has always liked Lestat, but usually he and I have people surrounding us, so she can’t make any moves and usually just lurks around, hoping to be called on by one of us for something. Lestat and I have had a revolving door of human lovers. Frivolous hookups and one night stands that never amount to anything. It’s just sex for me but, for Lestat, it’s rebound after rebound for him to try to get over Louis. But try as he might, Lestat hasn’t found anyone who’s come close to being Louis’ metaphorical twin. Anyway, Lestat went out for a smoke or something, giving Celeste the perfect opportunity to swoop in and hit on his boyfriend or girlfriend for that night. They fell for it hook, line, and sinker like humans always do. They ended up making out in the closet. Someone opened the door and got a picture catching them in the act, posted it to Snapchat, and now Lestat is out for blood, telling everyone Celeste has Herpes. Yikes. So now Celeste has been officially moved from Lestat’s guest list to his blacklist. Yeah, she’s not invited to our parties anymore. Once her job is done, we have a car pick her up and take her straight home. After suffering humiliation after humiliation, Celeste should hate us, yet here she is, still working for us and wanting us to like her. I still try to be nice to her to like, keep the peace or whatever, but I can’t exactly call her my friend. And the meaner Lestat is to her, the more Celeste tries to win Lestat back. It’s weird, right? Like totally desperate and sad. Pathétique même. (Pathetic even.) It’s like she thinks it’s better to be in our social circle, hating life than to not be in at all. I wish she’d get a grip already. Lestat’s 6’0, not Jesus. Anyway.”

“I kinda feel bad for her…”

“Ugh, don’t. You should tell me a secret now too or I won’t keep feeding you with all the vampire gossip. You know, friends are supposed to share stuff and, for the moment, I’m the only one—”

“I’m French.”

“What?”

“I’m French.”

“I thought you were Canadian?”

“Nope. French.”

“French Canadian?”

“Nope. French as in Parisian.”

“Oh. You’re from the motherland?”

“Yup. I was born and raised in France. I only recently moved to America.”

“So you understood…?”

“Yeah, je parle Français évidemment.” (Yeah, I speak French obviously.)

“Oh… you heard and understood Lestat and I the whole time and didn’t say anything. Well. Egg on our faces. Um. Well.” You clear your throat and carry on. You don’t admit you’re wrong or apologize, nor will you ever. Typical Lioncourt behavior. You just go back to gossiping.

“Marius got dumped by Bianca. He’s telling everyone he dumped her but he didn’t. She dropped him. They had been together for like 500 years, but Bianca overheard him pleading for Pandora, his ex-girlfriend, to leave her companion, Arjun, and run away with him and, when that didn’t work, he said he would leave Bianca if Pandora were to come back to him. Poor Bianca was so distraught by what Marius said, she just up and left, ignoring his protests that he was out of his mind when he offered to leave her. And to add insult to injury, Pandora still rejected him. This is like the third time he’s tried and failed to win her back. He knows it makes him look désespéré (desperate) to keep crawling back time and time again, but he’s obsessed with her. He definitely has a thing for younger women. He met her when she was ten and he was twenty-five and he asked her father for permission to marry her, but he refused.”

“Oh my god, that’s fucking nasty!!”

“Right!? Like I know it was like eons ago, like before 21 CE or whatever, but…yikes. Even Marius knows their breakups were his fault. I wish he’d just write a sad poem in his journal and move on already. He’s such a simp for Pandora and I just don’t get it. She’s pretty, but she’s not the Queen of the Damned.”

“Because the Queen of the Damned exists?!”

“Oh yeah, speaking of simps and the Queen of the Damned, that reminds me - there’s this other vampire, Thorne. He’s like a Viking warrior originally called Thornevald that was sent to slay a vampire-witch that had been killing villagers and stealing their eyes. Thorne found the vampire and learned that she had no eyes of her own, and must take eyes from her victims to see.”

“Wait what?!”

“Yeah and after a time, the mortal eyes wore out in her immortal body and she had to take another pair from one of her victims. And wouldn’t you know it? This vampire was Maharet, one of the most ancient vampires and twin sister of Mekare, the current reigning Queen of the Damned who took over after Akasha’s death so all vampires wouldn’t like explode into bloody bits on the spot. Something about an evil spirit cursing Akasha and making her the first vampire and the evil spirit inside her body being too much to contain but, with each new vampire she made, it decreased her bloodlust or weakened the evil spirit inside her and kept it dormant or something? So it’s like all vampires’ lives are connected like a web and if the Queen of the Damned dies without someone taking her place as host to this evil spirit, then all vampires just drop dead out of nowhere? I don’t know the full details on how it all works. Lestat spent much more time with Akasha than I did. He knew her intimately. And I mean that both ways. Anyway, Maharet didn’t slay Thorne but turned him into a vampire and kept him as her companion. Super weird flex, but okay. If it were me, I would’ve put him down centuries ago and just been done with him. He had major issues. Like he was weirdly jealous of Maharet's attention to the other vampires.”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me of someone…” Juliette hums, thinking of the way Lestat can sometimes be with you.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing!”

“Anyways, if she would blow him off to hang out with other insanely gorgeous vampires, he’d be like, ‘why didn’t you call me back!?’ and Maharet would be like, ‘why are you so obsessed with me?’ and Thorne was so tilted by Maharet’s blasé attitude and malded so hard that he eventually left her and laid asleep for centuries in the ice of the far north in a self-induced pity party.”

“The melodramatics of men, I swear...”

“I know, right? It’s so embarrassing. Total incel energy. I don’t even- whatever. He was awakened from his moping when Marius made contact with him using the Mind Gift. Thorne journeyed south and found Marius in a large city near the Arctic Circle. Marius said he enjoyed it there as the noonday darkness ‘allowed him to live more like a normal person.’

“A normal person??”

“I think he was just too heartbroken and embarrassed to show his face to anyone after the Bianca and Pandora thing, but was lonely and wanted someone to talk to. Marius thought he and Thorne could relate to each other and bond over their ‘girl troubles’ or ‘doomed love lives,” you used air quotes. “So he took him to his home but discovered that Thorne still harbored a jealous rage for Maharet, which…”

“I take it Marius wasn’t impressed with him at all?”

“…Duh. Like no shit, Sherlock. Anybody could see that. Like I said, major issues we don’t have the time to unpack, so let’s just throw the whole suitcase away. Marius knew that Maharet could easily destroy Thorne if he tried to fight her, so Marius tried to dissuade him from his suicidal obsession. Thorne listened to Marius's account of his life and what he learned as a vampire. He was particularly interested in the story of the brutal attack on Marius by the vampire Santino and his Satanic cult of followers. Santino and his cult burned Marius in his house and kidnapped his apprentice, Armand.”

“Armand? Oh my god, I thought there weren't that many vampires!?”

“Armand is… Ugh. Girl, don’t even get me started. Seriously, we don’t have time for me to explain it all right now, and he’s his own can of worms. It’d take me an entire day to even begin to scratch the surface of explaining who Armand is to you. He’s such a hot mess. He couldn’t even decide what name he wanted to go by. Andrei, Arun, Amadeo, Armand… like dude, just pick one and stick to it! We had a couple of different like really horrible things happen to us because of this vampire…Armand. Yeah, he broke the cycle for a bit. Totally made it…just awful. Like it was such an awful, awful period of time for us. All I can say about him for now is that he fucked up Lestat real bad. I can’t even begin to get into how much Armand broke him, but to give you an idea of what he’s like, I’ll just say this: No one has been able to make Lestat cry the way Armand made Lestat cry. And that's saying something because our abusive father and older brothers and Magnus came before Armand, but the other tortures Lestat and I endured were...brief. We ran away from home, the abuse from our father and brothers stopped. Magnus died and that abuse stopped too. No one in vampiric history has matched Armand's level of crazy. Armand is a petty and spiteful little bitch who, instead of moving the fuck on, has decided to dedicate the rest of his immortal existence to torturing Lestat. It has become his favorite pastime.”

“This is so terrible! I’m sorry you went through this… Kinda explains a lot too. But why did Armand hate Lestat that much?”

“Why? Because Lestat grew bored of the Theatre Des Vampires and left him. Seriously. That’s it. He chose himself and me over Armand, and we left France together and went to New Orleans because our father was there and we took care of him until he died. Armand didn’t like not being the center of Lestat’s universe. He couldn’t reconcile with the fact that Lestat was the center of Lestat’s universe. You know that saying, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’? Even scorned women would look at Armand and tell him to take a dirt nap and chill the fuck out. Everything about Armand just messes with a person's mind. It's the way he's not even chasing Lestat around that gets to us. He’s really out in the world somewhere like, ‘I'm old enough to be your biggest problem by staying in the same spot for five centuries.’ He’s like a leech or a cockroach that refuses to die and won’t leave us alone. So Lestat and I keep him under total…like, he’s under our eyes at all times. We cannot have him mess with us. He gaslights, he gatekeeps… Even Marius abandoned him after determining he was a lost cause. I think he was afraid of the monster he had created. All that trauma and abuse and brainwashing and memory loss… No amount of therapy can fix him. So we’re very hesitant about him. We don’t trust him at all. And we’re not even talking badly about him anyway, it’s just facts. He can’t be trusted. But we wanna keep a close eye on him just in case.”

“Okay, that’s an odd choice. I wouldn’t do that at all.”

“Hello? First rule of war: Friends close, enemies closer. Back to what I was saying before, at the end of the tale, Thorne questioned Marius why he hadn’t taken revenge on Santino and offered to help kill him. Marius explained that Maharet now ruled the vampires as regent for her mute sister, Mekare, and Maharet forbade it. Marius pleaded with Thorne to forget the past and talk of revenge, but Thorne still insisted on Marius taking him to see Maharet. Marius reluctantly agreed and the pair were mysteriously whisked away. They awoke in a jungle location, where Maharet lived in seclusion with her sister, the new Queen of the Damned. Several other vampires were present, including Pandora, Armand, and Santino.”

“Tell me you’re making everything up… It’d make a great telenovela.”

“You have no idea. Anyways, after a brief, bitter back and forth between all these crusty vampires with clashing personalities that contained varying levels of toxicity, Marius admitted that he still wanted to kill Santino. But he wouldn’t because Maharet forbade it, and Marius believed that for Maharet's rule over the vampires to be valid, all vampires had to obey her. It had to be unanimous. The joys of political meetings between vampires. Ugh. But Thorne had absolutely zero chill and abruptly killed Santino himself and then attacked Maharet in a jealous rage. Mekare came to her sister's aid and easily pulled Thorne away because his strength compared to theirs was like that of a newborn baby. Thorne, knowing he fucked around and was about to find out, whispered a request to the mute Queen as they struggled and she complied. Mekare removed Thorne's eyes from their sockets and handed them to Maharet. Maharet accepted the gift and bound Thorne with ropes made of her hair. Lestat likes to make bondage jokes about it, how it’s ‘kinky’ and he’s ‘totally been there before’, but I think it’s just so gross and unhygienic. It’s the only material strong enough to hold a vampire, I guess, but I hope she uses shampoo and conditioner. I’ll send her some of the hair products from Bloodlust for free if she wants me to.”

“Wait, wait, wait… How can it be the strongest material…? I… what?”

“It reminds me of people I see on TikTok that propose with ‘rings’ made out of their greasy, unwashed hair that’s probably riddled with dandruff or lice. Disgusting. Fans ask Lestat and I for locks of our hair all the time and it’s whatever since it grows back in seconds for us. It’s a nice little side hustle we got going on. It’s crazy how much people are willing to spend on a small lock of our hair. Franz Liszt actually gave us the idea when he told us he used to send locks of his hair to women, but started sending dog hair to admirers instead when he got tired of doing it. So now we send dog hair to people we don’t like, and they’re none the wiser because the dog hair is always similar in color and texture to our hair.”

“Did you say you have dog hair?” Juliette asks with a raised eyebrow and you pretend you don’t hear her.

“What was I saying? Oh yeah. So Thorne is Maharet's eternal prisoner now. She treats him like a pet but, last I heard, he’s happy knowing that the object of his obsession will always be near him and that her new eyes will last her forever. To each their own, I guess, but, in my opinion, he’s so delulu it’s kind of sad.”

“I never imagined things could be like that. Gosh, I’m glad I’m not a vampire.”

You catch something, or rather, someone out of the corner of your eye from the open doorway. Lestat is awful about closing the door behind him whenever he leaves. Your eyes squint in suspicion. “Don’t move. It’s that Lioncourt wannabe clone watching me. Technically she’s my new Personal Shopper. Faker. Poser. Seriously, she's been copying my outfits all week. I can't take it any longer. I swear I’m gonna snap. I swear I’m gonna snap. You can’t - you’ve gotta like - yeah.”

“I’d be grateful if I didn’t have to stop you from hurting her though… I’ve cleaned up enough blood this week already.”

“She’s supposed to be bargaining and compromising with other celebrities, basically buying them off because they have stuff I want, but instead she’s been copying the way I do my makeup, the way I do my hair, all of my outfits…except hers are knockoffs because she can’t ever hope to afford the genuine articles in her natural lifetime, but still, I’m— I can’t, I can’t. Well, you know how Lestat and I get most of our clothes custom-made? Well, sometimes he likes to buy lots of outfits for us from designer collections, and occasionally there’s a 2 for 1 sale and he buys double the clothes because there’s two of us and we play around with gender a lot in our looks, kind of exploring our femininity and masculinity, challenging the constraints of both, whatever.”

“Oh yeah, fuck genders. Androgyny is fun too.”

“Yeah, that’s the word - androgyny. Androgynous. Yeah, like David Bowie.”

“Was he the one who first inspired you and Lestat?”

“Actually, no. He is an inspiration to us, but he wasn’t our first. It was our mother.”

“Your mother?”

“Yeah, our mother, Gabrielle. After her transformation, Lestat procured for her an extravagant dress to replace the one she died in since it was covered in blood and excrement stains, but then she killed a man and took his clothing for herself, discarding the dress. She only wore dresses on rare occasions after that, and she did it only to please Lestat.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she called him her phallus and lived her life through him before we parted ways from her.”

“With all due respect, this is really fucked up. And I didn’t know Lestat turned your mother…?”

“Didn’t I mention that Lestat turned our mother before he turned me? Whoops. Well, now you know.”

“Is she still, well, not alive, but…around?”

“Yeah, she’s still around. She’s in Egypt now, I think. Yeah.”

“That’s cool, I guess? What is she like? What does she look like?”

“Best way I can describe her in a way that’ll make sense to you is, imagine Lestat if he was female. Yeah, she has cobalt blue eyes and long yellow-blonde curly hair just like Lestat’s, but her features are smaller, more kittenish. She tried to cut her hair short when she was first made.”

“She did? Was it very long?”

“Yeah, she tried to just chop it all off into a blunt bob, but it grew back to its original length the next night. She was shaken and horrified. She’d tuck her hair beneath a cap. Yeah, she’s…what’s the word? Transgender? Transmasculine? Lestat and I haven’t seen her since saying goodbye to her and parting ways in Egypt, but her candor and comportment was that of a man. Her girlish and kittenish facial traits kept her from carrying off the ruse successfully, though.”

“I hope she is doing okay… What are you looking at? Oh. the Lioncourt wannabe.”

“But this girl…she does not have to choose my Outfit Of The Day the day I’m wearing it, right? Like, that’s just messed up. Whatever.”

“Take a deep breath, please.”

“Anyway, Okay. Calm. Oh no. She’s coming over here. Just don’t make eye contact. Just…”

“Oh my gosh! I can’t believe it’s you! It’s been so long! Where have you been?”

“Uh, hello?”

“Seriously. Oh my gosh, did you hear what just happened?”

“Can’t you see that this is my bedroom and that I’m doing something? C’est incroyable comme les gens ne connaissent plus le respect ni la politesse de nos jours.” (It’s crazy how people don’t know respect nor politeness nowadays.)

“Oh, I’m sorry! The door was open so I thought… I just… What are you doing exactly?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I was just wondering if you or your friend wanted help.”

“Well, Juliette came to me for help.” You emphasize Juliette’s name, making a subtle dig at the wannabe for obviously not knowing it yet being bold enough to come into your bedroom uninvited to share some nonsense gossip that was probably made up, just so she can pretend Juliette is her friend and get closer to you. The things humans do to feel important… You’re not having it. “So…you can just mosey on over. Like…leave. Turn around. Go.”

She doesn’t leave. She just hovers.

“I said go away. What do you want? You’re ruining the vibrations here. You’re ruining my energy. I feel some negativity coming from my friend, Juliette.” You emphasize the possessive adjective. “She’s clearly a little bit…you know…in need of some quiet time. So I think it’s best if you leave. Could you just like…” you wave her away with your hand like she’s a gnat in your eye.

“Fine. Whatever. Bye.” She leaves. She’s so fake she’s more exhausting to be around and deal with than Lestat.

‘‘K, bye bye!” You give a fake smile that immediately drops as you turn to Juliette to talk shit. You inhale deeply and seethe under your breath so only she can hear, “I hate her. Don’t like her one bit. Hm. I know what she’s up to. She’s looking for Lestat. Oh, that makes me so mad. It kinda creeps me out too, like, if she’s gonna try to seduce my brother, she shouldn’t dress up like me, you know? I try not to think about it or read her thoughts at all. I’d rather not know what’s going through her head when she does what she does or says what she says. It just gives me the heebie-jeebies when I think of her around Lestat. Where is he? I gotta go find him in a minute.”

“The heebie-jeebies?”

“Is that not what Americans say?”

“Sometimes, but most kids are calling it the ick now. She gives you the ick.”

“Oh. I’m not caught up on all the internet lingo yet. This is good. You’ll have to teach me more. Yeah, she gives me the ick.”

“You really worry about your brother, don’t you? I don’t think he’d be interested in a girl like her anyways.”

Not wanting any more interruptions, you get up to close your door and lock it. You go back to what you were doing and put your finger and thumb into L shapes as you lean back and check your work on Juliette’s eyebrows.

“Don’t move. I’m gonna check something. They look even. Just gonna make sure. So? All right, step back for me. That’s better. You look better.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s good.”

“You guess? Y/N Lioncourt, she’s done it again. I’m such a saint for this. You are looking better already. Now for your makeup. Did you bring your makeup bag like I told you to?”

“Oui.”

“Good girl. Hand it over. Wow, this is really ugly. Do you like, like this pattern? Do you think this is cute?”

“It’s very practical, that’s why I bought it.”

“You just grabbed whatever? Weird. Okay…is this…drugstore makeup?”

“Well, yeah… I don’t do my makeup that often and the products seemed good enough.”

“Mhm. BB cream, what the fuck? Clear mascara? Do you even have like any lip products in here? Blistex? You’re gonna give me an aneurysm. Okaaaay, babes… You should feel really honored because I never do this - not even for my besties - but I’m gonna use my personal makeup on you.”

“But…”

“Yeah, this stuff you brought? Perfect for like the middle school dance but, for our purposes, it’s not gonna cut it. Your makeup bag is going in the garbage disposal. Here’s mine. Cute, right? Yeah, I chose it for a reason. Let’s keep it light, keep it cute, nothing too crazy. Let me see how the texture of your skin is doing because, girl, last time, it was crazy. It’s like a popcorn ceiling in here. I’ve got just the thing, though. Yeah, I’ve got a primer that can like shellac that right up. This is called Celestial, which is quite fitting. The miracles this stuff works really are mystical in nature. I’m gonna spread that over your chin and cheeks.”

“Okay, maman.” (mom)

“Perfect.”

“And then?”

“What’s next? Some concealer for those eye bags definitely. Let’s put a bit of concealer just under your eyes because you look a little tired and that’s not good. Girl, what were you up to last night? Your shift at the watch tower or something? Jesus.”

“Yep, didn’t sleep a lot. Like maybe two hours. I really didn’t want to get up this evening but you called…”

“You only got two hours of sleep last night? That explains it. What’s that about?”

“What are you doing?”

“I want you to look like you’ve been well rested and you’re ready to eat the heart of a man in like under five seconds only if I ask you to. You know what I mean? You need to get yourself some bubble bath liquid. A lavender spray for your pillow, some sleepy time tea, a silk eye mask and a meditation audio layered with rain sounds. Write that down.”

“Write it down?”

“Yeah, write it down, write it down. Yeah, I call it the princess secret formula to beauty rest. You’re welcome. Literally more priceless than the mathematical formulas for the moon landing.”

“I’m so not buying a lavender spray though.”

“Let me put just like the touch of shadow on your lid and you’re good because you got mascara on already, that’s good. You took my advice about mascara, that’s good. Waterproof mascara, of course, in case it all goes to shit.”

“Yep, hate the emo black stains of mascara on my face.”

“Very smart. I’m glad that you wore that. Good. Let’s see which eyeshadow colors would suit you. Yeah, let’s start with a rusty shade. Then the bronze in the middle. Then highlight the center. A touch more at the outer corners, okay. Pretty. I deserve a Nobel Prize for this literally. Now it’s time for blush. Oh, this color is perfect on you, oh my god. You know, take it from me, men love blush. You gotta really pack it on.”

“We’re not in the 18th century, though.”

“Rococo and Baroque is making something of a comeback, though. Goths love the 18th century. Really bringing those old trends back and putting a modern spin on them. Now for the lips. All that’s left is the gloss. The finishing touch. The cherry on top of the sundae. But I really don’t like that lipgloss color on you so I’m just gonna wipe that off, okay? And you can use mine. Wipe that right off because you do not suit that color whatsoever.”

“You mean that the color doesn’t suit me, right?”

“You can use mine. It still works. Let’s see, what do I have here?” You look down for a second and when you look back up at Juliette and what she’s holding in her hand, you gasp. “Put down the Blistex or I’m calling the cops! I swear to God. We’re doing Buxom Ultra Plumping Gloss, obviously. I think this shade of pink is gonna suit you really well. You don’t have any like Herpes simplex or anything, do you?”

“Nope!”

“Okay, that’s fine, I’m just asking because I got like ten other ones of these but if you got like some kind of oral issue, um, I can just give this to you. Okay, pout for me, babe. Some more. It’s gonna take a lot more gloss than that for these little lips. Cute. Your face is looking gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. If Kevin follows you on Insta, we should take some pictures when I’m done. He’ll definitely slide in.”

“Oh, I’m not a big fan of social media! I only use them for you but, yeah, I don’t really care about it.”

“You don’t use your personal Instagram? Okay. Well. I guess you can send them to him on Discord.” You immediately cringe as soon as the last word comes out of your mouth. “Ugh. No. Give me your phone.”

“MY phone?”

“Yeah, hand it over.” Your nails start clicking against the screen as you tap away on the phone. “Okay, let me feed your algorithm a little bit. Clearly you are not getting the inspiration that you need to be getting. What’s going on in your Instagram? Oh. Nothing good. Looks like you follow a lot of bird watching accounts. Dungeons and Dragons? Geocaching? Sudoku influencers? What the hell? Let’s get you following some baddies who can hopefully influence you in a more positive direction. Zendaya, Tori and Electra, Ice Spice, Kylie Jenner, Dua Lipa, Margot Robbie… and let’s like some cute posts. There. It’s like I’ve just enrolled you in the baddie academy. You’re welcome.”

“... Thank you then?”

“And then unfortunately it looks like your hair is back to looking like a rat’s nest since I last fixed it for you. Luckily I would not be caught dead without a hairbrush and some oils. So let’s get to fixing this. Hologram hair serum. Two pumps of that. Start working that through your ends. Don’t want to bring it too close to the top or else your hair will just look greasy. But the ends we’ll just make sure look nice and healthy. Then brush it out. That hair oil smells amazing. You’re so lucky to have me. Have you seen Sophie’s hair today?”

“Hmm no, what about it?”

“Ugh. Gruesome at-home dye job. The pipe dream of white-blonde in one night has claimed yet another helpless victim. She clearly didn’t use a high enough volume so there’s like these awful orange patches that she tried to save with toner that she left on way too long so there’s also huge patches of purple. God. My money is on her showing up tomorrow with it dyed completely black. Kind of the only next step besides a buzz cut unfortunately. I think she’ll be fine though. She’ll pull it off well. I always thought black hair would suit her. In a crazy twist of fate she just might come out of this fiasco on top. And…Voila! Your look is done - except for the outfit.”

“I’m comfy in these clothes though… Perhaps you could tell me some more of that vampire gossip. I need a break.”

“Fine. Let me think. What else, what else, what else? Oh, and then there’s Sybelle and Ella’s situation. They were born in like the late 1970’s and changed in the late 1990’s or early 2000’s. Yeah so they’re like really young in both human years and vampire years. They’ve been inseparable besties since like pre-k. Though the situation was…messy. They lost touch for like ten years because Sybelle was held captive in her luxurious home by her abusive older brother who regularly beat her after they were orphaned when their parents were killed in a car accident. He kidnapped Benji as a companion to keep Sybelle stable while she financially supported them with her concert performances.”

“This is crazy!!”

“When the abuse culminated to Sybelle's brother about to kill her, Armand killed him, thus freeing Sybelle and Benji from further fear for their lives. Last I heard about Benji, he was living in Trinity Gate in New York and created a podcast that is broadcast to all the vampires around the world.”

“Do people know he is a vampire??”

“Yeah, he’s known as the “official voice of the vampires” through this podcast thanks to Lestat and yours truly. I think you can listen to it on Spotify. Sybelle and Ella eventually reconnected and their friendship was still going strong, even after Marius changed them and brought them both into the blood. Everything was fine for like 25 years, but they’re beefing right now.”

“I’m not too surprised after everything you told me about vampires.”

“They’re both frozen at like 18-20 years old so…high school mentality. You know how we’ve been looking for instrumentalists for our upcoming symphonic album? Well, they both desperately wanted to be in the orchestra and auditioned. And Sybelle got a spot and was chosen for the solo. No surprises there, like everyone knows Sybelle’s the better musician by a long shot. But Ella is delusional about that. She thinks it’s so unfair and accused Sybelle of seducing Marius and Lestat into giving her the solo. So crazy. Like, Ella, girl, I get that you’re disappointed but you can’t read sheet music to save your life and…you have butter fingers. Just chill out, support your bestie, no need to get nasty about it. Sit down and cross your fingers for an acting gig in our music videos next year.”

“It’s kinda funny how all the drama starts with you and Lestat.”

“But it doesn’t end there. Sybelle always comes to dances and special events in the most spectacular handmade gowns, but she always keeps them a secret from everyone until she finally shows up wearing them. Last weekend at the party you skipped for window shopping with your cousins at the mall, she showed up wearing the dress she made for the upcoming symphonic orchestra performance and posted pictures to her Instagram story. Ella, who didn’t attend the party and who Sybelle had told she was at a sleepover, saw it and now the dress that she was preparing for the symphonic concert and album recording has been irreparably damaged. I mean like covered in pig’s blood and torn to shreds. Needless to say, Sybelle was devastated, like nearly inconsolable. She bought thirteen yards of fabric, crinoline, boning, and Swarovski crystals to make that dress. She sewed each panel of the skirt one by one. Just hand painting the flowers in the skirt took about five days. It took Sybelle about a month to make the dress, from design to creation. And now it’s all been flushed down the toilet because Ella was having a colossal temper tantrum.”

“But you’re sure it’s Ella?”

“Ella hasn’t confessed, in fact, she’s denied it up and down, but Sybelle is convinced it was her doing. Like what else could it have possibly been? No way a wild animal got in. Now Sybelle has sworn she’s not talking to Ella for the rest of the year, if ever. She isn’t of a mind to forgive and forget. One crime of passion and their friendship has blown up. Tragic. Fingers crossed Ella will have a change of heart and get over herself and her feelings of jealousy and insecurity and apologize and Sybelle will find another dress in time. Even Lestat and I have personally reached out to Sybelle and offered to help. Money, materials, emotional support, whatever she needs, it’s hers. We’re even willing to push back the date of the recording session because we don’t want her to drop out because of this incident. We truly want her there and to not get to witness her performance or one of her handmade outfits would be truly devastating.”

“Yeah, you really care about outfits, don’t you.”

“As for your outfit…”

“Fuck. Me.”

“Who made you think this was okay? Your outfit is weak. You look like you’re dressed for jury duty or church.”

“Well, yeah… It’s Sunday.”

“You came right here from church? Ew. What do you do? Sing in the choir or something? Okay. Well, I’m sure your vocals are better than Larry’s. He was the lead vocalist before Lestat came along and, well…Lestat and I secretly call him Lackluster Larry for a reason. Don’t tell Larry or Lestat I told you that. Friends keep secrets, remember? It’s like girl code.”

“I’d die with your secrets… Don’t kill me.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot really help you with your outfit as far as your date tomorrow. Ummm… Try to maybe like make his glasses fall off his face and then ‘accidentally’ step on them?” You use finger quotes. “That way, to him, your upsetting fit will be turned into a…tolerable blur.”

“Don’t be mean now.”

“For tonight, I’ll come to your rescue yet again. You are about to enjoy the esteemed privilege of borrowing one of my outfits. Do not take it lightly. You have to make sure you have perfect posture for the rest of the night or else you’re gonna stretch it out, ok?”

“...I don’t think I have the choice anyways…”

“Ok. I picked out this top for you. It’s the same one I’m wearing but in white. Yeah, I think that’s gonna work well for you. And then these jeans. Like a light blue. They’re faded in all the right places and they’ve got these rips. Pretty stylish.”

“Meh.”

“You don’t like the rips? Ok, grandma, why not? They remind you of the Great Depression or something? Put them on.” You throw them at Juliette and they nearly hit her in the face as she grabs them and holds them to her chest so they don’t fall to the floor.

“Can I at least go change in a room or a bathroom?”

“Yeah, bathroom’s over there.” You point and go back to your phone. When Juliette comes back out wearing the outfit you personally picked out for her, you clap excitedly.

“Yeah, you’re looking pretty cute. Let’s see if you can act the part. We’re gonna work on some flirting techniques. Show me your best seductive pose. Give me a soft serve. It’s giving gollum. Very much ‘my precious!’. Let’s try softening the face. Relax. Drop it down. Especially the eyelids, drop the eyelids down a bit and then bring one eyebrow up a touch, okay? A little less than that, a little less than that. That’s good. Slight smile. Slight. Perfect. Show me a bit of jaw like tilt your head to the side then bring the shoulder forward like that. And let me push that shoulder back. And it’s in the hips too, you wanna tilt the hips with the shoulders, so bring this hip forward, this hip back, then tilt your face down and look up at me from there. There it is. Yes, girl! There we go. Oh, can’t forget the perfume. A splash of this will get you smelling irresistible. You’ve had a Mountain Dew fragrance for Kevin’s sake, but he’ll have to settle for Versace. I think you’re ready. I think you’re ready. Oh oui, tu es prête! (Oh yes, you’re ready!) Good luck, babes. Can’t wait to hear all about it! Et surtout ne me remercie pas, les amies sont là pour ça!” (And do not thank me, friends are here for that kind of thing!)

[ketchupcaptain]

Downhill (Harry AU Fanfiction) - Chapter Two: Fallout (on Wattpad) 

Should I run after him? I should, right? God... what have I done. Darting out the door, I stood on my tippy toes, trying to survey the area. No tall, sexy dudes within a 20-foot radius. Shit. I fished my piece of shit cell phone out of my tote bag and called my older brother, hoping to get a ride to the police station.

"Hey... Uh, Jason?"

"What do you want?" He responded through a mouth full of crisps.

"Could I get a ride somewhere?"

"For god's sake, Ellie, get a freakin' car. I'm tired of driving you around," He said in his thick cockney accent.

"Do you think I have the money for a car? Please... This is important."

The line went silent.

"Fine." He huffed.

"I'm just outside Camden Market."

"See you in a bit." The line clicked off.

It was ages before I saw him roll up in his rinky-dink car. "What took you so long?" I huffed as I plopped in the passenger seat.

"I had to finish my snack. Snacking is important." I rolled my eyes in protest. "Where to?" he asked.

"Umm... Don't be mad... Please."

"What did you do?" He said, looking at me with one of his eyebrows raised.

"Will you super-secret swear on it that you won't tell Dad?" I reached out my hand for the classic Ravensdale swear. Jason and I used to be really close until Dad kicked him out after he was caught selling pot and drinking in our attic with a bunch of his friends.

Even though Jason can be annoying, I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for him.

I told him everything, and he listened patiently. "Harry... that name sounds familiar. Is he really tall, got a bunch of tats, curly brown hair?" Fuck. He knows who he is; things just got semi-interesting.

"Uhh. Yeah. Let's hurry on now so he doesn't get arrested, shall we?" Jason turned and looked at me intensely, "I wouldn't help that boy if I were you."

"Oh, whatever, just drive. Come on now. Chop chop!" I nudged him playfully.

"I'm serious, El." He always called me that when he got frustrated.

"Jas, I don't really care what history you two have. This guy's done me a real solid, so let's go bail his ass out, shall we?"

Jason suddenly got absolutely livid and slammed his hand on the steering wheel. "El, you don't fucking get it, do you?" He becomes a whole different person when he's mad. "Harry is the one who brought the weed to the party that night. He's my supplier."

I didn't even know what to say. I couldn't imagine the man I met a couple of hours ago being a drug dealer based on how he practically flipped shit over me shoplifting. Weird hill to die on if you ask me.

"I never even smoked any of it." Jason put his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes. "Of course, Dad didn't believe a word I said." He pounded on the steering wheel once more. "Fuck! He never believes anything I say, El." He glanced over at me with tears brimming in his eyes. I've never seen my brother like this, so broken and helpless. In fact, I've never seen him cry.

"Jason, I'm so sorry." I looked up at him with sympathy.

"Just forget it." He scoffed while wiping his tears and putting the car in drive.

We drove for 10 minutes in awkward silence. I felt terrible and could not wrap my head around the fact that the seemingly sweet and normal guy I ran into earlier was why my brother had been couch surfing for over three months.

Harry... a drug dealer? Really? He seems so; I don't know. Not drug-dealery.

He did get aggressive with me when he was dragging me back to the shop, but it didn't feel too threatening. I secretly enjoyed it.

We stopped at a red light, and I looked over at my brother. He had brown eyes just like mine, but strangely enough, he had dirty blonde, curly hair that he cut short for the summer. He caught me looking at him and gave me the middle finger.

I know I'm his little sister, but I have this urge to protect him. Maybe it's because of Mom dying or the way I've seen Dad treat him, but I want to keep him safe.

I don't know if I can believe what he said about Harry. I really want to trust him, but I can't. He's lied to me before; why should I believe him now?

AN: Hi guys! What did you think of this plot twist? LOL. I can't believe 13-year-old me came up with this juicy of a storyline. I promise it will only thicken from here on out and the romance level will turn up a notch or two. I'll update you all tomorrow, so stay tuned for more drama ;)

[k4nill]

I've been thinking of Leon being a latino in a Human AU

Whenever I imagine a Human ROTTMNT AU, I can clearly see how Leon is totally a Latino. Like: thick wavy hair, with really small monolid eyes, and medium light skin (latinos know what the hell i'm talking about, those kids that get told they have "ojos de chinito" and rock the neapolitan tanning: caramel where the sunlight hits, milky way where it doesn't and pink when it's too much sun for the day) and then Donnie is this asian™ bean, so, sometimes they are mistaken as blood related brothers (Mostly cuz the eyez) and the stripes are the tanning y'all.

The twin thingie between Donnie and Him started with Mikey tho, but i'm not talking about that today, i don't wanna overload my 3 brain cells.

Also Leon it's the only one that had had said something in spanish like (?????) please give me more Leon talking in spanish

nickelodeon escUCHA MIS PLEGARIAS POR FAVOR, gracias

[batfam-slash]

The first thing that comes to Tim’s mind as his lips touch Jason’s is that Jason’s lips are really dry.

Jason clearly isn’t bothered what Tim thinks of his lips though, because he pulls away a mere two seconds later.

“What the fuck was that?” Dick sighs, looking less than impressed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’ve had more passionate kisses than that from Alfred.”

Jason snorts. “What do you want from us? We’re not gonna be having a passionate make-out session. We just gotta look like a couple. That’s it. We’re probably not even gonna need to kiss.”

“Yes but if you do need to kiss, that is not going to cut it, Little Wing. Your cover will be blown. No one will believe that shit. Try again.”

Tim rolls his eyes. This is going to be the most testing undercover mission he’s ever been on.

“Why can’t you and I go undercover?” Jason asks Dick, waggling his eyebrows. “I can make that way more convincing.”

To prove his point, he grabs Dick round the waist, dipping him low and melding their lips together. Tim tries not to feel insulted; him and Jason have never had a great relationship whereas Jason has forever been flirting with Dick, but Tim doesn’t think he’s that difficult to kiss. He can’t help but roll his eyes again when he sees Jason stick his tongue in Dick’s mouth.

Dick lets out a muffled noise and hits Jason on the chest, smiling fondly as they part. “Stop that. B wants you and Tim on this one. So you’re gonna have to learn to play nice. So kiss our baby bird like you just kissed me and then we can call this a day and I can tell Bruce this mission will be a success.”

Jason gives Tim a sceptical look, clearly still not convinced.

“Forget your differences,” Dick says softly. “Think about everything you like about Tim. Everything you respect about him.”

“Well, there’s not much there-“

“Jay! C’mon. Take this seriously. You’re supposed to be boyfriends. Do you want to take down this trafficking ring or not?”

“Yeah, of course-“

“Then tell me one thing you like about Tim. One thing you respect about him.”

Tim’s ears prick up. This could be interesting.

Jason looks at him for a moment. He pauses, clearly in thought, and Tim’s heart starts to sink. He doesn’t know if Jason is joking now. Maybe there really isn’t anything that Jason respects about-

“I like that Tim is super smart. He always seems to just figure things out and…I respect that.”

Jason’s voice is soft, genuine, even if he can’t look Tim in the eyes.

“There’s a lot I respect about you, Jason,” Tim offers gently, wanting to turn this tiny spark into something stronger for them to work with. “I respect your strength. Like, obviously your physical strength, but your mental strength too. You’ve been through so much but you’ve built yourself up again, mostly on your own, and you don’t take shit from anyone.”

Jason actually looks a little surprised to hear that.

“Cool,” Dick beams. “That’s great. See, you can do this. And Jay, Tim is cute right? Like, putting the past aside, you could get with someone who looks like him, right? Tell me one thing about Tim that you find attractive.”

Jason looks noticeably uncomfortable, but Tim knows what Dick is trying to do, and he doesn’t want them to lose the momentum.

“I can go first,” Tim offers, blushing. “Like, if I had to pick something I find really attractive about you, Jay, it would be your thighs. Like, oh my God, your thighs are so thick and could probably crush me and it’s just hot.”

Jason blinks, but there’s a smile forming on his face. “Wow, Replacement, I had no idea you were so thirsty for me.”

“Your turn, Jay,” Dick encourages.

“Er.” Jason rubs the back of his neck. “I guess…Tim’s eyes? Like they’re kinda pretty. Oh, actually scrap that. I’m gonna go for the ass. Replacement, if there’s one thing I’ll compliment you on, it’s your damn fine ass.”

The flirtatious banter almost feels easy now, and Tim wants to continue it, almost forgetting Dick is there.

“I find your scar really attractive,” Tim says softly. “Your autopsy scar. Again, because it reminds me how strong you are.”

That seems to be the thing that does it.

Because at first there’s a moment of silence, and Jason just stares, and Tim wonders if he’s just fucked this up. But then Jason is grabbing him round the waist and pulling him close, just like he did with Dick, and suddenly Tim finds his lips against Jason’s once more.

He doesn’t really notice if Jason’s lips are dry this time.

Instead he focuses on the feeling of Jason’s warm tongue against his, their breath mingling together. He focuses on the feel of Jason’s muscled chest beneath his hands, the smell of Jason’s cologne, the feeling of Jason’s hands on his ass.

“You boys are gonna do just fine,” Dick says proudly.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙎𝙐𝘾𝙆 & 𝘽𝙇𝙊𝙒 ☆ 𝙨𝙖𝙥𝙣𝙖𝙥 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

∘ request: 

goddamn your writing is so good 🥵 any chance you’d be able to write something with sapnap where you’re both at a party and know each other through friends but not well and you’re both a bit tipsy and he just can’t control himself and drags you into a bathroom? kinda fluffy where there’s lots of kissing but also desperate and accidentally rough (because the idea of someone wanting me so much that they lose control is a major thing of mine)

∘ pairing: sapnap x fm!reader

∘ warnings: nsfw (18+),  party scene, drinking, crude language

∘ links: ao3

∘ word count: ~2000

a/n: Thank you so much for the request! I literally have the exact same thing so i think we’re soulmates or something. I hope you enjoy!

For the duration of the day, you’d been waiting for this moment. Your hair tangling amongst itself as you danced to the music with a group of your friends was almost a baptism for you. No longer were you restricted into your business casual attire and socially acceptable behavior. Now you were free to forget your name and responsibilities as mashups of different genres of heavily bass boosted music pulsed in your ears.

The large house was swelling with people, melding together as if their lives depended on the superficial human connection the beat could bring them. Many of them you recognized from some of your lectures; it had been a day where your classmates had planned a party for someone’s birthday. You hated to admit it, but you didn’t know or care whose party it was, you were just happy to have an excuse not to study.

You’d already lost one of your rings and your clothes were sticking to your body from the layer of sweat glistening against your skin, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. As cliché as it sounded, going to random college parties had equated to your own kind of religion. These senseless addresses were homes to a different kind of worship, but one you had quickly become devoted to. The smell of another girl’s perfume rubbing off on you and the nameless identity of the boy that offered you hard liquor were your new sacraments.

As the song died out, beginning a new string of beats to thunder around the room, you found yourself out of breath. You gestured to your friends that you were refilling your drink, but really you were in search of air that was a bit fresher. You wove through the heavy crowd, ending up in the kitchen and beelining for the fridge. There was a small group of boys standing around the keg, one of them filling his cup as they discussed something a few of them were getting heated about.

You tucked a cold water bottle against your side and grabbed a clean solo cup. As you got closer, you would hear what they were talking about. “I don’t know how you don’t remember that. It was like a big thing a few years ago?” One of them grumbled as his eyes narrowed at the liquid streaming into his cup.

“Sorry, Nick. I forgot they were selling kids on eBay. I honestly don’t see-” They continued on into overlapping ramblings that you couldn’t help but laugh at. One of them, that had been referred to as Nick, looked almost too familiar to you. Yet as you stood there, you couldn’t remember even if your life depended on it.

Nick’s eyes drifted to you as if just realizing you were standing there. “Sorry, do you refill?” He asked, mustering a somewhat shy smile. You snapped out of your train of thought, handing your cup to him.

“I didn’t mean to seem like a creepy, sorry,” you stated, sending him an awkward laugh. His lips parted in a smile. His dark hair was slightly ruffled, probably just from the weather earlier in the day. You weren’t sure if it was your slight buzz or the close proximity, but God, he looked good to you.

“No, I was hogging. It was my bad,” he answered. You brushed your hair off of your warm forehead and he looked up at you from what he was doing, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “I think I know you from somewhere,” he mumbled before something clicked behind his eyes as he handed you your cup back. “Oh, you’re Clay’s friend, right? I’m his roommate, Nick.” At his words, your brain clouded with embarrassment as memories of him finally fled your brain.

You smirked slightly. “Oh! Yeah, sorry I didn’t recognize you. You look…” You paused for a second. Where were you going with this statement? Hotter? “Grown-up,” you wheezed, making him chuckle again. “- I mean, since freshman year English, I guess.”

He chewed the inside of his cheek, attempting not to grin wider. “Yeah, you look… grown-up too,” he offered, sending you a slight smirk. “It’s weird how close you and Dream are and I never see you around anymore,” he continued.

You chuckled a bit, wetting your lips. “Yeah, I told Clay I had a crush on you and he kicked me out,” you joshed, making him laugh. For as quiet as you remembered him being, you were shocked he was engaging with you in the way he was. Maybe it was just the atmosphere and the alcohol that had him loosened up. Whatever it was, you found yourself partnering with him in beer pong and spending most of the night at each other's side.

You sat closely to him on a couch in one of the several living rooms, your heads set close together as you listened to what he was saying over the music. “Hey, you too found each other,” a deep voice bounded, making you jump slightly, almost spilling your drink on Nick. Clay plopped down on the other side of you, wrapping his arm around the back of your section of couch to tug on Nick’s ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me Nick was a stud now?” you joked, slightly cringing about how bold you sounded. Nick chuckled at your words, swatting Clay’s hand away from him and taking another sip from his cup.

Clay setted further into the spot beside you. “You guys wanna play ‘suck and blow’?” He stated, more to the group of people around you guys. You furrowed your brows at him, almost wanting to roll your eyes at Clay’s blatant mission to set you and Nick up together. But who were you to avoid his attempts.

The card was passed successfully around the group, until it got to Clay, whose breath you could practically feel on the other side of the thick paper. You turned to give it to Nick but dropped it at the last second, making his lips press against yours. It was almost like he was expecting it because he was utterly calm at your action, nearing leaning in on his own accord. There were cat-calling noises made from the group as the kiss ended briefly. “Ope, looks like you guys are gonna have to leave the circle,” Clay stated with an almost sing-song tone in his voice. You were thankful that you had turned towards Clay enough that Nick couldn’t see your jokingly scornful look.

“Well, that’s just too bad. We were so good at this,” Nick chided as the two of you stood to leave. You ruffled Clay’s hair as the two of you left, following Nick into another room. “Would you want to… go somewhere quiet?” Nick asked, his eyes flashing to yours. Your eyebrow perked in his direction before you wordlessly slipped your hand into his.

You found yourself in the bathroom, Nick's hands settling on your hips as he pressed his lips against yours. You let out a sharp moan as he ground his hips against yours, yearning for more friction. Your fingers dug into his hair as his tongue slipped into your mouth, hungry for your taste. His breath was like a drug for you as he groaned into your mouth, moving against you.

His lips left your mouth but only to caress your jaw before settling against your neck, sucking on the skin with a slight sting. You tilted your head back, giving him more access to you before wrapping a leg around him, begging him to go further with you. He chuckled at your neediness, his warm breath fanning over your neck. He tugged the strap of your dress down your arm, pressing his lips against the newly exposed skin, grinding against you. The taste of cheap beer passed between the two of you.

One of his hands slipped beneath your dress to squeeze your ass, pulling you tighter against his jeans, encouraging you to ride his thigh. "I want you," he moaned unevenly in your ear, sending heat straight to your core. You wanted him to completely ruin you, to show you what was hiding beneath the surface of his reserved nice guy barrier.

You answered his words by attending to his zipper, slipping your hands into his jeans and stroking him against his boxers. A moan broke through his teeth, his lips crashing against yours as you egged him on. His erection grew stronger with each of your movements. You could tell he was becoming desperate to ravage you with each of his restrained breaths.

Your teeth dug into his bottom lip, your fingers pushing his pants to the ground as he pressed himself against you. He pushed your underwear aside, answering your silent pleas. Pressing his lips against your neck again, he drove himself into you, earning a blissed out moan from you. A breath of pleasure and relief escaped his chest at the feeling of you instantly tightening around him.

He thrusted into you, as if testing the waters as you moaned his name against his skin. One of your arms tightened around his shoulder as he held you in place, setting his pace. The mix of alcohol and pleasure you were feeling with each snap of his hips was sending your head reeling. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, fingers digging into your skin. You moaned against his lips, sending him to speed up his movements. A sense of roughness came out in him as he pounded into you harder, and you were eating it up. You fingers dug into his hair, pulling tightly to earn a groan from him.

Your hands slipped beneath his shirt, raking against his back, urging him to use you like a flashlight. "Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, voice husky with some type of forced restraint as if he wouldn't let it come out evenly. You tightened around him, moving in what little space he'd given you to grind against him.

With that, he began to thrust into you harder, as if he was finally giving into whatever he was attempting to hold back. His teeth dug into your shoulder with each pulsing movement, driving himself deeper into you. Ungodly moans left your lips, only confirming his actions as he hungrily chased his high, dragging you with him.

His paces became less rhythmic and more sloppy as he gripped onto you, your fingers digging into his skin as you felt your orgasm was just within reach. You tightened your leg around him, your head swimming as he began to hit your sweet spot repeatedly. With a nearly choked out moan of his name, your body flushed with relief, your climax ripping through you. Nick succumbed to his own as if he'd been waiting for you, the two of you leaning against each other for support as you rode out your highs.

After you caught your breath, you reapplied a layer of lipstick, eyeing Nick through the reflection of the mirror as he stood behind you, straightened his clothes. "Let's not tell Clay about this, purely because he'll make it weird," you stated, turning and evening out his hoodie strings.

He chuckled slightly. "Oh, I agree completely. Don't tell Clay." His sly smirk nearly drew you in as you pressed your lips against his again, a promise that you'd definitely be seeing each other again.

[leatherednlace]

Jolene

Dean Winchester x Male reader

Tags - Drinking, Tipsy, Sad, Phone calls, Mentions of Sam x Male reader, Revenge, Kissing, Dean Winchester puts the P in A, Riding, Hickies, Dirty talk, Praise, Slow sex, Aftercare

You watch as the man of your dreams, sam winchester fall in love with a women...you out of your mind, angry, upset for him leading you on, you call Dean to take you home...by telling Dean, now’s your chance to get back at sam...

A/N - Thank the “slowed” version of Jolene for this...

Taglist - @flamencodiva @wonder-cole @superfanficnatural @that-one-gay-girl

——————————————————————————

You took the last swig of your drink, the glass slightly cold in your hand, but the feeling was so comforting...the numbness.

“Another”

You slurred. Your eyes set on the pair in the far corner, you could already feel your blood boil, stomach turning, mouth twisting in disgusting.

There he was, hands on the strangers hips, moving there bodies to the music, he was heavily intoxicated clearly by the empty sets of glasses on the table they were once sat at.

You sigh...music filling the void, the drink making your head fuzzy with each beat. You continued watching them closely. Sam was never like this with you, his hands never travelled up your back, never wound up in your hair, lips never met yours...

Shaking your head...you had enough, you wanted more, anything.

You heard the regular knock of the glass being placed infront of you, the whiskey sat at the bottom, the brown liquor making your mouth water, you needed it.

You bring the glass to your lips, taking a swig, you feel the burn which was very addictive, your throat already revelling in the contact, but you wanted to go home, to feel those soft blankets wrap around your body keeping you warm.

Sam wasn’t paying any attention to you at all, as if you were invisible, non-existent. You could feel the usual pang in your chest, the hurt, the empty feeling, everytime you thought of him.

One of your hands steadily dove into your left trouser pocket, you pulled it out, as soon as the phone screen turned on, your eyes flicked over the 2 missed calls from Dean...why Dean?

Your eyebrows furrowed, without thinking, presumably letting the alcohol take over, you tap call. A wave of nervousness travelled across your body, hands standing up on your arm, why were you having this reaction?

“Hello?”

The deep, gruff, slightly soothing voice echoed in your ears, you couldn’t help the groan that left your lips, not only was it Dean...but his voice...

“D-Dean...”

He could already tell, a sigh sounded from the speaker, you don’t blame him, you had told him you wouldn’t get drunk, but he can thank Sam for that.

“Are you drunk?”

You nodded, but blurted out a sloppy “y-yeh”. You couldn’t help think why Dean hadn’t hung up yet, but you were glad he hadn’t, nothing ever compared to how...horrible you felt right now...

“You want something?”

You paused, to regain a somewhat “sober” state.

“D-Dean can y-you come p-pick me up...Sammy left me alone f-for some woman.”

You awaited an answer, clearly he was annoyed, not at you, but at his brother. He felt kind of sorry for you, Sam had been leading you on for all these months...it’s not right...he would treat you so much better.

“Hold on...”

————————

Silence.

The silence was like a heavy weight, both you and Dean keeping your eyes on the road. You tried mustering up some kind of plan to forget about Sam and what he was doing...what his deal was with kissing that woman.

But you couldn’t, every touch, every kiss, they were like memories imprinted into the back of your head, everytime you closed your eyes, you saw the way Sam was with her...he was never like that with you.

You could feel the tears brim at your bottom lids. You could feel anger course it’s way through your veins, taking over your body.

“What Sam did...” Dean paused, correcting himself “is doing...it’s not right, it’s not fair” Dean kept his eyes on the road, glancing back at you and forth to see if you were okay.

“It isn’t...D-Dean nothing’s fair...not in this life, we are hunters, we hel-“

You were cut off by Dean pulling off the road into a lay by, he couldn’t handle seeing you like this, the guilt he saw in your eyes every time he looked at you, Sam has broken you.

Parking the car he switched the engine off, twisting the keys and sliding them into his pocket. Placing a warm, comforting hand on your thigh he shook his head.

“Listen...I can’t control my brother or his actions, what he did tonight shouldn’t really be any of my concern but I can’t bare to see you like...”

His voice had you shivering, it was a comfort at this point, deep, quiet, much like a whisper but loud enough to not be. You looked to his hand rubbing up and down your thigh, smiling weakly to yourself.

You look up into his green orbs, everything stilled as if time itself switched off, if only for mere seconds. “It’s nice to know i have someone fighting in my corner...”

Your words were rather breathy, both of you close...too close to be friends. Dean’s hand squeezed your thigh, his eyes asking if this was okay...there was a slight pause as you watch Dean closely, hungry tongue lapping over his dry bottom lip.

“I-Is this okay?”

Removing his slightly warm hand from your thigh, he brought it up to cusp your cheek, pulling your face towards his own, nothing could prepare you for the way his lips crashed against your own, this wasn’t needy...this was want.

This kiss was wet, deep, everything you had dreamed of...with Sam. But what was this feeling? Butterflies? Maybe...Maybe Dean was the problem solver here, What if it was Dean all along?

Dean sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it. A whimper escapes you as Dean took charge, his tongue sliding against yours in a fight for dominance, clearly he’s won.

Soft grunts left his lips at the sounds of your whimpers, they sounded oh so heavenly. You move closer wanting to feel more, his hands pulling you into his lap. You were now situated on his lap, knees at either side of Dean’s thighs, his tongue still in your mouth.

He pulled away, eye’s now getting a good look of you, your features. “God your more beautiful then I remember”. Dean already managed to make you feel good with just words…you wonder how else he could do that.

You feel yourself blush underneath the street light, Dean chuckled deeply, clothed cock brushing against your ass. “D-Dean please make me f-feel good” you moan sloppily, hoping he would take charge of the situation and make you forget.

His hands pushed down your rather loose bottoms past your hips, your bare ass on show. You hiss at the cold air now surrounding you, hands clinging onto his shoulders as he manoeuvres your trousers and boxers.

Your cock sprung free and rested against his clothed stomach. Dean smirked knowing it was him doing this to you, making you hard under his touch.

“I’ve always wanted to make you feel good…fuck” he groans into your ear, his deep gruff voice forcing a shiver out of you. Your hands wonder down to his belt, unlooping it from it’s confines, finding it easier to unzip his trousers.

He buries his face between the crook of your neck, hiding away as he nibbles on the soft skin. One of your hands dive into his now open trousers, grazing the plump hard on he was sporting.

You pull him out, now feeling the heavy weight of it in your hands. Dean moans at the slight friction your hand gives his aching member…god he was a mess.

“I-I need to feel y-you”

You place his aching tip at your wanting entrance, plunging into you.

The low rumbling moans that leave his lips make you clench around him, squeezing him tighter, “oh my God.” Dean can’t even find the words. 

You whimper in pain, the feeling of his thickness stretching you to accommodate his size.

Chanting your name over and over, whimpering as he sinks further into your warmth, as deep as he can possibly go. He grips onto you for dear life, as if he’d loose you.

His lips circle the shell of your ear, nibbling the soft area, breath fanning against it. “So fucking tight” he groans, using his hands to force your hips up and down, bouncing away in his lap.

Holding each other, you stay connected for a little while, enjoying the moment as Dean continues his harsh thrusts, rocking his hips into your tight heat, whimpers sounded out into the now fogged-up car.

“So much better then Sammy” you groan, this only had Dean slowing his hips, now pointing his aim at your sweet spot. “Love feeling myself deep in you…balls pressed to this ass” he gives it a smack, watching your face twist with pain and pleasure.

“Thought about this for years…’bout plunging my cock deep inside your little boy pussy…”

That’s all it takes for the coil to snap, you cling to Dean, hands squeezing his skin tightly as you scream his name, your cock twitched as you released your load onto his flannel, vision turning white.

“That’s it…squeeze around me, milk m- shit” Dean cums deep within you, load after load filling you making sure you knew who you belonged too. His eyes closed tightly…you could hear him pant, hardly able to catch his own breath.

He chuckles, half blissed. His eyes watched you closely, one of his hands coming up to cup your left cheek, taking in your features.

“How was it…” he mutters.

Your too fucked out and slightly tipsy to even open your mouth, instead you kiss him to show how much this actually means to you. Dean held you against his chest, kissing back with the same amount of passion.

Sammy was now a distant thought, everywhere you looked there was Dean…this felt right.

[swtki]

Dancing Days - Edward Cullen x Reader Smut

Anonymous said: 19&24 on edward smut? love ur writing!

A/N: Thank you so much :) also I’m so happy everyone is h*rny for Eddy. I decided I want to explore more period times with Edward, changing his persona in a certain decade, but still ultimately being in the same universe as cannon. This will play into the readers character a tad bit.

WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT, SWEARING, S*X, VAMPIRES, ORAL SEX (MALE RECIEVING), VIRGIN! EDWARD, NON VIRGIN READER, GENDER NEUTURAL READER, MENTIONS OF WAR AND DEATH. 

19: “Fuck me like you want people to know”.

24. “Thing is, I’m a virgin”. 

_______________________________________

I brushed my hair into its usual part, making sure I looked flawless. The year was 1976, I was a senior in Highschool. It was a wonderful time to be a teenager, no longer afraid that my friends would die in Vietnam. Even in my dinky little Washington town, the culture was becoming our own. 

The Led Zeppelin record playing on my record player stopped suddenly, alerting me that I was no longer alone in my room. I turned, my expression soft as I saw my boyfriend, Edward.

“Whats up with you and this album? Everytime I come in, its always House of Th Holy on repeat.” I rolled my eyes, lifted the record in question off of the tray, and put it back snuggly in its case. 

“I can’t help it, Ed. Robert just speaks to me. I’m sure you’re like that with Louis Armstrong.” I waved my hand, walking back to my mirror to finish getting ready. 

“Maybe, but the music you listen to it’s...” Edward paused for a moment, sitting on my bed. “It’s suggestive, Y/N.” I turned to him, my eyebrow raised.

“Suggestive? What’s that supposed to mean?” I placed my hands on my hips, and waited for him to explain.

“Well, for one that one song says ‘Sipping booze’, I quite think that is blatant alcohol reference.” I looked at him, dumbfounded. Then, I started to laugh, and I walked over to him. Instinctually, he pushed his head into my chest, enjoying the comfort it brought him. 

“I love you, but god are we from two different Mars.” He chuckled, sending a rumble through my chest.

At school, I was an average kid. Fair grades, many friends, many ex friends. When Edward was paired up with me in math, I got through his cold, stone skin. At first, he was annoyed when I would fuck off, leaving him to do the work himself. Understandable, and once I realized how rude I was, I stopped. I talked to him, prodded him truthfully. I would ask him once we started dating if he had noticed me previously, because I had never noticed him. 

“Yes, I noticed that you were the only one who didn’t acknowledge me. Ironic I guess.” 

A year into our relationship, I would never let him go unnoticed. We walked the halls, hand in hand. Our outlooks were so different when it came to life. He was modest, I was free spirited. Edward was different from my boyfriends previously, I didn’t want to fuck things up, and I refused to even risk it. 

School went slowly that day, possibly because my head was focused on what I would ask Edward, my boyfriend of one year, about sex. About us and sex. 

I hadn’t told him that I wasn’t a virgin, I was worried he would only want a virgin girl, after all they can never look at you disappointed and say “I’ve had better.” A definite plus. Many a nights I tried to imagine him, moaning completely under my control. I wanted him, but I didn’t know if he wanted me. Surely in 50 years he had found a good fuck. I worried that he would be into someone else, forever tied to a vampiress. 

The end of the school day couldn’t have come sooner, my anxiety rising as I got into Edwards car, starting a long silent car ride. I tried to keep my mind off of it, an attempt to avoid the conversation until we were at my house. I kept my mind busy with the lush scenery outside of the passenger side window. 

“So... I know you want to ask me, and I know the answers to what I would ask you.” He said blatantly, putting the car in park outside my front lawn. 

“I don’t wanna talk out here Ed, lets go inside.” I swung my bag onto my shoulder. Thats the thing with Edward, I never have to say anything, just as long as I think it. 

My house was empty, making it easy for Edward to follow me upstairs to my room. I shut my door behind us, then turned to him. Unsure of what to say, I breathed in deeply.

“How long have you known that I wasn’t...you know?” He smiled, sitting on my plush navy sheets. 

“Y/N, I knew before I met you what I was getting into. Your ex had a lot of thoughts about that one night where you guys-” 

“Oh my god okay ew.” A blush rose upon my face, and I saw Edward laugh as he watched my body fill with embarassment. “Well why didn’t you say something?” I asked.

“I figured if it needed to be brought up, it would be. You and I aren’t exactly a physical couple so I didn’t worry too much.” I walked over to my bed, taking a seat next to him.

“I see...I mean it wouldn’t be a big deal for me so if you want to...” I bit my lip at him, his gaze turned to the other direction.

“Thing is, I’m a virgin.” My expression went from a seductive look, to a puzzled one. I wondered if I had heard him correctly. “I’m old school, Y/N. It wasn’t like how it is now when I was human. People didn’t just have sex in highschool, unless they were married because the man was off to war. So, it hasn’t been on the menu for me. You’re the first girl I’ve dated in fifty years, you know. And no, there was no vampiress or anything.” I smiled.

“Well, I don’t wanna scare you or push it or anything. It’s just you know-” 

“You want to touch me, to be touched by me.” his eyes trailed back to mine, looking deep into my soul.

“Yes, I want you, Edward.” I pressed my lips to his, pulling away jut as it got intense. I could feel his disappointment. “I want to...but I can’t let you down. Tomorrow night. I’ll call you and we can talk about everything we want out of it, I’ll give you a fucking fairytale, my love” I chuckled.

I called him that night as I had said I would. We talked about my first time, and everything I liked, followed by what he had seen on video, what he wanted to try, and his fears.

“I don’t want to kill you, darling.” He said.

“Then don’t. I won’t let you.” He laughed at me, enjoying my lack of seriousness.

The next night rolled along with a quick pace. I looked at the clock and saw that it was time for me to start getting ready. 

I made myself look simple, a small bit of makeup and hair product, but otherwise just a tank top and jeans. Sometimes, dating an old fashioned guy was a pain in the ass. Always complaining about suggestive behavior. But other times, my shoulders counted as being half nude.

“You look stunning, as per usual.” Edward said, stepping into my room. He was tense and barely moved. “I don’t know what to do..what usually happens with it if I’m not the one doing everything.”

If he had any blood flow, he would have been blushing right about then.

“We don’t have to do anything you know. We can just lay down and watch a movie if you want to, I just want to make you happy, Edward.” I walked over to him and put a strand of his messy auburn hair behind his ear. Without hesitation, he pressed his forehead to mine.

“I want to, thats the part that’s been eating me away ever since I met you. I want to make you feel good, I just don’t know if I’ll lose it and-“ I cut him off with a kiss.

“Even if you break my pelvis into pieces, I’ll still be happy. I’m always happy when I’m with you.” we both smiled, and suddenly the thick tension that once filled the room vanished. “I’ll take care of you tonight, just as long as you’re doing it for you. I just need to know you’re doing this for you, and you need to be sure you wont roll over afterwards and hate me.” I said, my hand clasped in his marble one.

“I want you, Y/N. I have no doubts that I’ll want you afterwards, too.”

I pushed his head down, level to my own. Our kiss was deep, filled with a years worth of hunger. My hands tugged on his hair, making him whimper. Suddenly, I felt my feet lift off the ground as Edward carried me to my bed. With a soft thump, the plush sheets surrounded my body. It was a contrast of warmth on my back, and Edwards cool body on my top.

His hands were balled into fists, clutching my duvet as if his life depended on it. I pulled away, panting for air.

“Sorry, I forget you need air.” He smirked. I rolled my eyes in response.

“Well, its a shame you don’t. Because I intend on taking your breath away.” we both made small laughs at my remark.

“What now?” He looked at me for guidance.

“Get on your back.” I said.

We switched positions, he was now on the bottom. My legs straddled his torso, I sight he visably enjoyed. I slithered my hands up to his head, cupping his face as I kissed him again. My left hand left its post, reaching down to the buttons on his shirt.

I paused, looking up at him once I got to the last button.

“Does it...work like normal or...” He threw his head back and laughed.

“It doesn’t have spikes, I can assure you its just like a humans. But Emmet did tell me to pull out so...I’m kind of worried about the implications of that but-“ I leaned down to shut him up with a kiss.

His hands were still at his side, resting on the bed. I picked up his wrists, and placed them on the side of my thighs. He squeezed them lightly.

My hands roamed over his bare chest, cool to the touch. I lached my lips onto his neck, causing his back to arch below me. I could feel his excitement beneath me, it gave me a big self esteem boost. His hand reached along my waist, tugging at my shirt. His eyes lit up at the sight of my bare chest. He reached for me but I pulled away to slide down onto my knees.

He looked confused, like I had left him high and dry.

“Sit on the edge.” I said softly, my knees burning slightly due to the rough carpet underneath them.

He rid himself of the unbottoned shirt, slidding over to me once finished. My hands slowly stroked his thighs, he was desperate for some type of touch.

I smiled, tugging on his belt until it came undone. He stayed silent, looking at me like I was the only thing in the world. I unbottoned the trousers, tugging on them. He kicked them off and was left in his breifs.

“Is it okay if I..” I looked up at him and he nodded frantically. I palmed him over his underwear, feeling how hard he had gotten from kissing. My fingers latched onto the waist band, pulling them down to reveal a pale yet pink cock. It wasn’t too big, but deffinitley satisfactory. I ran my finger over the tip, earning a small groan from the vampire. My eyes trailed up to him, so I could see him when I took him in my mouth.

He let out a breathy moan, eyes focused on my mouth. His lips were parted ever so slightly. I bobbed my head, and grotesquely sexual sounds arose from my throat. I felt Edward move a strant of hair out of my face, he looked at me like I was a god.

“Fuck..Y/N if you keep doing that there wont be anything for you, dear” He said in a breathy moan. I pulled back, my mouth feeling sore and tired. “Do you still want to?” He asked, grasping his hands on my waist.

“Yes, I fucking need you.” I threw off my jeans, I would worry about finding them later, I needed him. He layed back down, propping his head up on my pillows. Our lips collided in another kiss as I leveled myself with him.

“Are you sure?” I ask him, stroking his hard member.

“I’m sure.” He pecked my lips again as I got ontop of his lean figure. I spat in my hand, lubing up my needy hole.

“How do you want me to do this? I mean like slow? What do-“ He said with genuine worry.

“Fuck me like you want people to know” I whispered, “ Fuck me like you want the entire neighborhood to know that I’m yours and yours only.”

“I can make that happen, love.” He flipped me over, now being back to where we first started. He lined up his cock with my hole, running it around the tight area. I put my fingers in his hair, making a slight tug as he pushed into my body.

Pleasure filled my body as he filled me up, his cock stretched my insides in the right ways. Without pausing, he started to push his hips into mine, making sure not to hurt me.

He reached down to suck on my neck, adding to the pornagraphic moans in the room. My hands travled to his back, scratching my nails down the cold stone like skin. His moans echoed in my ear.

“Y/N, I can’t be on top I’m going to crush you” I laughed at him, tapping his side so he fell onto the bed. I swung my legs over him, sitting on his perfect cock.

“Perfect, fucking amazing.” He said as I steady myself onto him. His face was in a euphoric expression, the most relaxed I had ever seen him.

I began to rock my hips, sliding him in and out of me. His hands grabbed onto my hips, guiding me. Everything was a euphoric experience. My gut filled with that wonderful sensation.

“Edward I’m gonna cum, oh my god” I moaned out, picking up my pace.

Suddenly, the world went still. My eyes went black and I saw stars as my orgasm washed over me. My moans echoed in the room as my body twitched. A few thrusts up into my body and Edward pulled out of me, rubbing his cum out onto his hand.

I layed there panting while he sped to the bathroom, and came back with a clean cloth, wiping down my body. He put the cloth down, pulling up his underwear and handing me mine. I slipped the fabric on, slipping under the covers.

“Get in here, I wanna kiss you”

He laughed, obeying and slipping beside me. Our lips reunited in a soft clash.

“I love you so much, dear.”

[bangtanfancamp]

Champagne Silk | KNJ

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⋅summary: Almost year ago, you became the arranged bride of the most powerful man in the city, Kim Namjoon, but this morning, with you, he’s just a man who’s head over heels for you who can’t help getting lost thinking about his future with you.

Alternatively: no matter how powerful a man Namjoon is, he is still a klutz in the kitchen. A sexy klutz though.

⋅ author’s masterlist

⋅part two of the Silk series ( read part 1 here)

⋅also the second installment of breakfast with bangtan series (masterlist here)

⋅pairing: mafia!namjoon x reader

⋅genre: mafia! au, arranged marriage! Au, smut, fluff, angst, established relationship

⋅word count: 15.5k words

⋅rating: mature

⋅warnings: a generous amount of consensual sexual activities 🙃, brief scene of oral sex, impregnation kink, a shared bath tub, multiple instances of christiana being uncomfortable with using proper technical names for genitalia and being intentionally ambiguous instead. (honestly it’s more tame and wholesome than you think but god, if these two aren’t hot for each other )

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“Damn it.” 

The sound comes rumpled from the other side of the kitchen, like someone’s trying to keep it hidden. It’s so subdued and muttered that around anyone else, it might have been successfully hidden. But not right now. And certainly not with you. Because you know the distinct, adorable huff of your husband’s regret in an instant.

“You all right over there, darling?” There’s an innocence in your voice to hide your humor.

“Promise you won’t laugh if I tell you?” 

“Oh, unfortunately I can do no such thing, my love. You’ll just have to brave the odds and tell me.” 

Your smile is benevolent, but unyielding. You politely, pleasantly even, refuse to give him another option, and he knows it. It’s that simple. Even with his back to you, he knows the jig is up. As he hunches with heavy shoulders, he sighs and mutters something too low for you to pick up at first.

“Once more for the people in the back, yeah?” You tease.

“I said, I spilled wine on everything,” he exhales. 

His voice is tinged in shades of caramel, rich with resignation, as he confesses, stepping aside so you can see the mess he’s made. 

“Oh, Joon.” 

A terribly bright fondness pulls your lips into a smile as your clumsy giant sheepishly ducks his head across the room. His once pristine white shirt, his linen pants and your white antique tablecloth are all freshly dip dyed in swirls of Pinot Grigio and rosé.

“I know. I know. You don’t have to say it.” His eyes flit down to the stack of too many wine glasses slotted between his large fingers that have spilled their bounty across every available fabric surface.

“You have no idea what I’m about to say,” you point out graciously.

Crossing the room, you tip up on your toes to press a tender kiss to the spots where his jolly dimples would show if he weren’t so flustered. 

“MmmHmm. Sure I don’t.” He squints at you while you slip one glass at a time out of his grip and reach for a cloth.

“Precisely. You shouldn’t assume, Namjoon. You know what they say.” You smirk, wetting the cloth with water you know will be too frigid for him to stand in this half asleep state he’s in, but the stains have got to go.

“And what exactly do they say?” His large palms dip to rest on his hips as he braces for your commentary.

“Simply that assumptions only make an ass out of you and me so…”

His nose scrunches in distaste, even as he starts to laugh. “What a beastly phrase. I forget how much delicacy Americans have.” 

“Oh heaps of it. More than they know what to do with, really.” You shrug as you wring out the cloth. “Positively genteel. Is that not why you chose to marry one?” You add with a wry smile.

Glancing down at the bands on your finger, you warm at the way they glisten in the bits of lazy Sunday light filtering through the window. Namjoon’s glints golden across the room as he waits for your rescue. Both still new enough to feel like a novelty. Enough to make a small light inside you beam with pride whenever you catch sight of it.

“I chose to marry the only one I could find who was quick enough to get the stains I make out before they set and sweet enough not to give me grief for it.” He arches an eyebrow down at you in challenge as you slip one hand past the deeply undone row of buttons on his shirt to pull the fabric up and away from his skin as you begin to gently blot at the wine.

“Oh no. Well, I hate to inform you of this, but unfortunately, I’m actually 0 for 2 in those qualifications. But I will sincerely try my best since you’ve placed so much trust in me.” You chuckle as you set to work. “Would it be helpful if I mention what a smart wife you have to have ixnayed buying that cabernet sauvignon you wanted so badly, especially given your current predicament?”

Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to your forehead before dipping to press his nose against your own while shaking his head. 

“No. Not in the slightest.”

“See? That’s good to know. Would have been awful if I mentioned the Merlot I put back too then. Can you imagine? Could have been so unseamly.”

He laughs, smiling against your hairline. “Well, what would have been the point of whisking my bride all the way out to a little villa in wine country and inviting guests only to not serve them red wine?”

“The point would have been you not turning into the kool-aid man whenever said wine inevitably spilled all over you. Case in point.” You look up at him through wide, fluttered lashes as you press the icy cold cloth against a particularly bold splatter on his chest. The frigid water grazes his nipple through his thin shirt and your giant of a man winces like he was wounded on the playground.

“Hey, that’s freezing.” He moves to swat your hand away. 

“Would you rather just take this off then? So I can work properly,” You smirk.

“No,” he sighs. “That would just be colder.” 

He looks so adorable right now. The lavender locks you’d once loved so well have been replaced, faded into a dusty blonde instead. His thick hair, usually coiffed so neatly, so perfectly, is currently disheveled entirely. Bits that had been gently curated to frame his face the night before are now plastered to his forehead, others shooting off at odd angles, all from falling asleep on the couch beside you once your dinner guests finally left late last night. 

He’s still in last night's now stained and rumpled clothes, still looking absolutely divine with the sleeves cuffed against his elegant forearms and his now wide open neckline thanks to the buttons undone all the way down past his rib cage.

His body is every bit a grown man, but his sleepy features- those wide eyes and pouted lips- make him look every bit the little boy you saw once in his mothers photo albums the week of the wedding. Big Namjoon still makes the same faces when he makes a mess as little Namjoon, and it makes your heart squeeze in your chest.

“Don’t be such a weenie,” you tease. 

“Careful who you tease, woman. You’re the only one in this city who forgets how many people are afraid of me.”

“This city is half a day’s drive away. There’s no one to fear you here,Joonie. Besides, your enemies have clearly never seen how quickly you’d fall in a battle against the cold or else you would have been displaced ages ago,” you tease with a twinkle in your eyes as he narrows his at you.

“I don’t think you’d like ice water on your breasts first thing in the morning either.” He huffs under his breath.

“You never know til you try,” you wink.

“Would you like to try?” His eyes rake over you salaciously despite the tenderness in his smile. 

“No, I can’t say that I do,” you chuckle, pushing a palm against his chest. “Besides, it’s hardly first thing in the morning, Joon. It’s almost noon.” You nod toward the clock.

There’s still sleep in his voice when he laughs, the sounds rich and resonant where it blooms from his chest. “Well, it’s still morning for me when we didn’t fall asleep til well after 3 because our guests don’t know when to leave.”

You smile to yourself at the memory of time spent with your friends. Well, more accurately Namjoon’s friends, i.e. the members of his crew who have become like family to both of you. Namjoon’s been on the move so much with work lately that there’s been no time to simply sit and enjoy their company. You were in raptures when he suggested they join you for dinner last night.

“It was so good to see Hoseok and Jungkookie though. Their new girlfriends seem so sweet.” 

Namjoon’s gaze seems far off somewhere as he listens to you.“They do, don’t they? JK’s seemed spunky too. She’s good for him.” 

“I think so too. He spent half the night blushing- he was so happy. It was good to see him so over the moon for once, that little romantic.”

Namjoon smiles, a soft thing nestled in the pocket of his cheek, full of fondness for the youngest of his friends. “Yeah, I’m glad he finally found someone so good for him.” 

Pulling you in, he kisses you gently, once, twice before pressing his lips to the top of your forehead, an unspoken “as good as you are for me” hidden his warm brown eyes.

“Big softie,” you whisper, reaching up to cradle his face, thumb brushing over his cheeks. He tips his face toward your palm to plant a kiss there too, his lips just brushing the inside of your wedding band as you smile.

“For you? Always.”

“For me? It was the food last night. God, That charcuterie board Jin brought was positively masterful.” The memory alone has your mouth watering. “Such a shame it was all gone so soon though.”

“Ooo, speaking of,” Namjoon slips out of your grip to rustle around in the kitchen behind you. “Not quite.” 

“What did you do?” You narrow your eyes at him as you settle into a wooden chair to start tending to the swirling stains on the tablecloth.

“Oh, the best thing. Husband of the year level best thing.”

“Husband of the year? Can't wait to see this then. Very moderate expectations, indeed.”

With his back to you, you can’t see what he’s up to, but you can certainly hear it. Especially the low grunt when his hip snags on the new island counter. This poor man was clearly made for a different life than this old world kitchen provides. You wonder which will go first, your husband or the architectural detail. You chuckle to yourself until you realize exactly what it is he’s carrying.

“Kim Namjoon, is that-?”

“A mini stolen charcuterie board? You bet it is,” he winks your way, and a storm of winged things flutter in your stomach.

“How did you even-“

“When you had everyone gathered in the backyard, and Jimin tripped over the cord for the string lights.”

“I’ll never know how such a graceful man can cause such disasters. Or how you managed to befriend the only other man on earth as poised and clumsy as you all at once,” you chuckle, stealing a fig from the corner of the board as he peels back the plastic film covering it. “Oh my god, that’s so good.”

“Mmm Hmm. I knew you thought so,” he taps you on the nose lovingly. “You always ask Jin to make these for you, and then you’re always so sad when all twelve people you invite make it vanish in half an hour.”

“I know. I know. It would go farther if there were fewer people to share it with, but Joon, the boys are like family. I haven’t seen them all together in so long. I couldn’t bear to leave anyone out.”

There’s a twinkle glinting in his eyes as he smiles down at you. He’s glad to see how soft your heart somehow remains despite the life you both lead. 

“Which is precisely why I took the liberty of stashing some of this bounty away while the guests were busy and saving it for you.” 

When he smiles at you like that, all softened edges and warm brown eyes, it’s impossible not to fall in love with him all over again. It’s not like you’ve forgotten how kind he is or how striking he can be when he smiles. It’s simply that the more you see it, the more in love you become.

Rising up in your chair, you reach across the table to tenderly cradle his cheek.

“I hate to say this, because then you’ll know you were right, but this is really is an excellent submission for husband of the year. I would like to point out, though, that you are welcome to make as many entries as you’d like before the panel comes to a consensus, you know.” 

He smiles so wide that his eyes get lost in their beautifully crinkled edges. “I’ll keep it in mind. Now, they do say that you should play toward the judge’s preferences. Would you happen to know any? To help me get that inside edge.”

“Now, now. I can’t help you cheat. You’ll have to conduct your own research.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. We have a strict moral code. They’d ruin me if I let that sort of intel slip.” You tilt your chin up in defiance despite your smirk and laughing eyes.

“Hmm. We can’t have that, can we? Shame. I really thought this was going to be my year.”

“Do you really think the only way you’d win is to cheat? Come now...it can still be your year if you play your cards right.”

Your hand drifts up to his carelessly perfect hair, fingers gliding through it and tugging a bit near his scalp. One of his favorite ways to receive affection you’ve found out this past year. His lids fall heavy before he can catch them, a small hiss catching behind his teeth that means you’ve done it right.

“Careful. You don’t know what you might be starting.” His eyes wander the edges of your lips, trace the frame of your collarbone.

“I’d never take the risk if I wasn’t ready to face the consequences.” The twist of your lips is subtle, as gentle as the seduction you’ve learned is your forte. 

Namjoon licks his lips, the lower one snagging in his teeth as his eyes drift over you. Without breaking his gaze, he takes a champagne grape from the board and lifts it to your lips. You can feel your pulse flutter and quicken beneath your skin. It always does when he eyes you like that.

The man might as well be a snake charmer for all the control you feel like you have over yourself right now as your mouth parts of its own accord for him. But just before the fruit can graze your lips, his grin widens- wicked with delight- as he decides to pop it in his own mouth instead.

His dimples are so deep as he laughs at your flustered state that you wish you could crawl inside them and hide.

“Ha Ha. Very funny, Joon. Tease the woman you claim to love. Excellent way to keep a happy wife.” 

Rolling your eyes, you push off from the table, fully intent on doing... you have no idea what, exactly. All you know is that you need to get away from this table as fast as you can before you knock the carefully preserved remnants of this charcuterie board to the floor and take him on the table.

 The blush that was rushing to your cheeks is now crashing in your ears and all you can think to do is “go,” but before you can get even half a step too far, Namjoon’s warm, impossibly large hand is already wrapping itself around your wrist and grounding you to your spot.

“All I want is a happy wife,” he laughs. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I thought I made that pretty clear from the first day.”

Slowly, he stands as his hand trails its way down to dance across your palm before lacing your fingers with his. 

“Certainly doesn’t feel like it right now,” you pout, despite the excitement thrumming in your veins. You know that look on his face now. The one that’s evil and beautiful, sincere and serpentine. The one that wants to devour you playfully. To love you even as he ruins you.

“Oh no,” he tsks. “That won’t do.” 

Suddenly, he snaps you to him, his hands fastening themselves to the dip in your waist. You gasp, the force making you brace against his smooth, exposed chest to catch yourself.

“It won’t?” Your voice comes out airy, too thin, as the morning breeze billows through the open windows. 

“No. Not at all. So I wanna know: how can I fix this, baby?” His eyes are possessed by something wicked as one hand leaves your waist to trace a thumb over your parted mouth.

“I- I”

“Shh, I made this mistake. I’ll make it right.” He arches a single brow as his tongue wets his lips, and your brain loses any grip on rational thinking.

“And h-how do you plan to do that?” It’s a whisper- too breathy, too barely coherent. His hands are so warm. His touch is like lightning and suddenly even breathing requires too much energy with the way you feel like you’ve shorted out.

“I don’t know. You tell me, baby.” His knuckle tips it’s way under your chin, tilting your face up to his as you follow in obedience.

“But… I thought… I told you. The judge can’t help.” You swallow, lashes fluttering shut as his breath ghosts over your lips.

“Then she can’t get what she wants,” he challenges.

“Fair enough. That’s fair.” Your head bobbles in assent. 

“So I’ll try this again,” his face dips down until his mouth rests just below your ear. “What do you want, baby?”

You feel lightheaded as you melt in hands, rushing out the words, “Counter. Now. Please.”

 Your expression folds in on itself in satisfaction when Namjoon grips you around the waist and plants you on the kitchen island without a moment's hesitation. You gasp, airy and quick, before his palm is fitted against the curve of your throat with just the amount of pressure he’s learned that you like.

“Good girl. Open your legs for me, baby.”

A muffled inhale later, your knees have parted where you’re sat on the island and Namjoon is fitted between them, his hips to the counter as he kisses you in earnest. 

“Oh my god,” you gasp as his tongue and open mouth work their way down your throat, painting wide open blossoms of scarlet and blush along the way. Your hands are in his hair, at his scalp, tugging and grabbing to bring him back to your kiss. His taste is tinged salty and sweet from your skin and the grapes, and your thighs wrap themselves tight around the narrow slope of him.

He’s gotten so broad since the wedding day. If you had trouble composing yourself around him then god only knows how you’ve survived the past year. His shoulders seem wider, his arms more substantial, his chest impossibly inviting as you claw at the last remaining buttons of his dress shirt. 

“Off. Off. Take this off.” You push at the sleeves that bunch around the arcs of his newly swollen biceps, taking a moment to drink in how beautiful they are as you clutch at his golden skin. 

“So eager now. What happened to my shy girl?” His voice is teasing, light, but his eyes look proud of you.

“You did things like this to her, and now she can’t get enough.” Your mouth fits itself to the beautiful stretch of bare skin beneath his ear, suckling the indescribable taste of him before traveling down his throat and across his jaw.

He laughs, something deep and melodic, before his fingers begin to glide over your collarbone and dance over your arms, featherlight, like he always does when he’s trying to rile you up.

“Should I get this out of our way then?” His fingers tug at the slim straps of your champagne blush dress. You’d worn it especially for him at last night’s party. You’d never forgotten his affinity for your skin draped in silk.

“Why? Don’t you like it?”

“Of course I do, baby. It’s perfect.”

“Then why do you want me to take it off?”

 Your voice is sticky sweet with innocence, but Namjoon knows better. He doesn’t know where you got the wherewithal to tease him right now as he holds you pressed against his growing warmth, but when your eyes flick to his, he knows you’ve made the right choice. He likes it when you challenge him. It makes it more fun when he wins.

“So I can do this,” he grins with a flash of his teeth.

Without missing a beat, he’s slipped both straps clean off your shoulders, leaving the dress to pool around your hips, and scoops one of your soft breasts gently into his mouth. Your breath comes sharp, a stuttered, inhaled moan that tastes as sweet to him as the ripened figs on the tray. Deliciously priceless. 

He still can’t get over you. He doesn’t think he ever could. He’s never reached a point where the sounds you make fail to set his world ablaze. He’d like nothing more than to make drawing them out of you every morning just like this his sole profession.

Reverently, his other hand brushes up your side to cradle your other breast beside it. God, they’re so soft. Namjoon is almost ashamed to admit how infatuated he is with your breasts.  It would be embarrassing if you weren’t equally in love with receiving all the attention he gives them.

What can he say? He’s a simple man. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to him and for him? They’re perfect. Even with all the exploration the two of you have shared this past year, he knows this part of your body has got to be his favorite- your skin there is so velvet smooth and supple, so delicately sensitive, so perfectly sized for him to devour to his heart's content.

As his tongue warms the tender skin of your nipple with affection, and his thumb steadily plays with the other, he feels the muscled grip of your thighs tighten against him. The sounds you make for him as you clutch at the edge of the granite might as well be a symphony. He loves you like this. Wild and coming undone at his touch and attention. No one in the world but you and him.

“J-joon, baby.. I-“

Looking up at you through heavy eyes, entirely impressed with himself, he smiles and flicks his tongue against you again. When the jolt makes you jump, he stands to his full height above you, and sets his hands back on your sides.

“What is it, baby? You have to tell me.”

Your brows crumple in softly as you look up at him through your lashes. If you could speak, you would, but the way he plays you like an instrument with no effort at all always seems to dispose of your grace.

“But Namjoon…”  you’re trying and failing to catch your breath as both his thumbs come to lazily torment the soft swells of your chest. 

“You know what you like. You know what you want. Just tell me.”

You’ve barely got enough breath to function as it is, let alone to form a sentence. “But baby, I can’t…”

“Then I’m afraid you can’t have it.” He tuts. “Not if you can’t ask.” 

His grin is wicked, and as much you want to drown in it, something in you wants to wipe it off his pretty face.

“Not… fair…”

He runs his tongue over his teeth as he smiles.

“Really? Because to me, what’s not fair,” he grips your hips, snatching you forward that last little inch to sit snug against his hips, “is me giving you a prize you haven’t earned.”

His hands dip to cup the curve of your backside,

his fingers digging deep into the silk and softness he finds there as he continues.

“ What’s not fair is the way you teased me in this little dress last night when you knew there would be too many people around for me to enjoy it properly…”

Dipping down, his sumptuous lips brush your ear as he whispers, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What seeing you in this dress all night did to me?”  

As yet another lightheaded gasp leaves your lips, a dark, satisfied chuckle leaves his. 

“H-how would I know?” your air comes in shaky as he has his way with you

“You know, baby girl. You always know.”

 As his fingers dip firmly into the globes of your backside, he begins gently, just barely, rocking against you. No hurry. No fuss. Just maddening, slow pressure as he grazes you. When an airy moan comes whimpering from your lips, his strong hands tense, keeping your hips too fixed to succumb to moving with him.

“But you didn’t... say anything.”

Your eyes flutter closed as his face lowers toward yours. You can feel the brush of his lips ghosting over the edges of your cheek, his nose tracing against your skin.

“Don’t act like you couldn’t tell. You know silk always does me in.”

His fingers slip across your stomach where your dress has pooled to rest. They ghost like a whisper over your hips and down your legs until they reach the hem of your skirt. He fits his hands against your skin and drags them up achingly slowly, willing his touch to memorize the feel of your skin along the way as he pushes the fabric up inch by merciless inch- all while never stopping the insatiable way his lips move warm against yours.

His touch and his kiss are languid, unhurried, as he sets you on fire. When he reaches your thighs, his palms splay across them, his thumbs dragging along the inner swell of your legs as your vision begins to blur. 

He’s taking his time. He’s teasing you and enjoying it. It’s evident in the way he slows down the higher he gets. The way his mouth begins to travel down your throat in kisses so soft, so divinely sweet, that you swear you’re growing lightheaded from the swelling rush of pleasure.

His thumbs have made their way to the folds of your hips, his hands hidden beneath the fabric as your body lights up electric at his touch. Like if it shines bright enough for him, he might bless it with all that you know he is capable of. But even though he knows you’re more than willing, your tease doesnt satiate your body or her cravings for him just yet.

Instead, he slows down further. He fits his hands on the outer edges of your hip while his kisses turn gentle, calming, resolving, as if he has no intention of following through further after riling you up like this.

“What are you— why are you stopping?” Your eyes flit between his, a subtle , whining irritation building up beside your impatience when he doesn’t move. He’s quiet at first, in no rush to answer. As his beautiful face hovers over you, he's so smug you almost want to slap him for toying with you like this. 

But that won’t get you what you want. What you need. So Instead, you take one of his hands and press it to your breast as you guide the other toward the center of you.

He plays along at first, until his fingers are about to brush the part of you that’s positively tingling for his touch, and he abruptly pulls back, resting both of his hands on the countertop on either side of you.

“Ah, ah. That’s for when you use your words, my sweet.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, and suddenly, you’ve never been more greedy or more furious. 

Snatching at his waistband, you pull his hips forward and slip your hand over the linen to hold him. His breath catches at the back of his throat, and his eyes go wide, dumbfounded at the shift in power.

“And I said, the judge can’t tell you the answers.”

You level him with a look of quiet confidence as your fingers slip between his skin and the linen to hold him where he wants you most. His brows tip into softened u’s as the coolness of your touch brushes against him.

“Husband of the year should know what I want by now. I shouldn't have to tell him.”

You grasp him, fingers running delicately up the underside of him at the same time that you lick into his mouth. You feel him dip a bit as his knees buckle, making his hands on the counter the only thing holding him up.

“Mother of god,” he mumbles, even as his hips move in compliance with your touch. “Where did you learn that?”

“From the best,” you beam. Your smile is genuine, sweet and blindingly bright. It makes him want to take a bite out of the apples of your cheek, so he does. A playful nip that has you giggling and him pressing his lips together in fondness. 

The moment is sweet, until you catch his eyes with that same saccharine smile on your face, and take your hand away. His mouth opens, about to protest, until he watches you run your tongue in a long, slow stripe up your fingers before reaching back down behind his waistband to run the wet digits over his heated skin as you grasp him.

“Oh my… fuuuuck,” he exhales, his weight dropping to press into the counter. His face dips to lean against yours as he struggles to stay lucid. This feels so good, so out of nowhere, that his body is bursting to life more rapidly that he can keep up with. 

With every movement you make, he moves with you, gasping through his open mouth with every touch as he tries to keep his composure. Leaning into your forehead, he feels his nose bumping against yours as he searches for air. He feels nearly lightheaded but god, you’re incredible. Your touch feels so good- he never wants you to stop. 

Still, he wants control back though. To make you as much of a mewling mess as you’re currently making of him. He was enjoying the game you were both playing before, but he likes the feeling of winning more. However, just when he thinks he’s got a way to get the upper hand back, you ever so lightly twist your grip as you pump him, and suddenly, he can’t tell if he’s dying, ascending or blacking out. 

It feels so good so fast that he can barely remember his own name, let alone stage a coup. Your fingertips gently play with the tip of him at the top of each swell in your fluid flourish, and suddenly he can’t think of anything else to do with all this bursting excess inside of him but to kiss you. So he does. Open mouthed. Sloppy. Full of want. It feels so incredible that you can’t help but laugh brightly into his mouth, ethereally elegant, even as you wreck him. 

As you work, he can feel the way he’s growing harder with your attention, the way his blood feels like it’s singing the longer you touch him. His hips are obeying you like they belong to you, and at this point, he’s pretty sure they do. His mouth is painting your throat, adding swathes of crimson to the blooms he made before until your neck is colored with an entire bouquet of his affection. 

When he closes his eyes, the light behind them sparkles with effervescence as he listens to the quickness of your breath as you work. The sounds, the moans, the gasps you make as you touch him mingle with sounds of early morning nature and Namjoon wonders if this was what the poets meant when they described paradise. 

Pleasure is cresting over him in warm, molten waves now, and as it builds, he realizes he was wrong.

That as much as he loves your luminous eyes, your serene smile, the softness of your breasts, that those aren’t truly his favorite part of you if he’s honest. At least not right now. Not in moments like these. Because right now, with your hand wrapped around him, wrecking him with craving, that title is held by the treasure between your thighs; and as the blood rushes away from the rest of his body and swells where your hand lies, all he can think of, all he wants, is to bury himself in the wet, velvet warmth of you and never leave.

If he doesn’t get you naked with him inside you within the next three seconds, he thinks he might die.

So he does something about it.

“Open, baby. Open your legs for me,” he demands. It’s firm, commanding, but his eyes are so full of needy want that it’s hard to say who’s really in charge right now. 

Pushing your hand away and placing it on his chest, Namjoon kicks down his linen trousers and slides up your dress as you obey. He springs out, the length of him pressing into the meat of your thigh. It has you whimpering before you can catch yourself.

“God, I knew you were a smart boy. You’d figure it out eventually,” your voice is teasing, but your face is so dizzy, so desperate for him, that he could give you the whole world if you asked.

“You ready for me, baby?” His eyes are half blown with lust, his lashes hanging heavy as he runs his fingers over your opening, before collapsing against your shoulder. “ Oh my god.”

“What is it, Joon?”

“Nothing. I just,” he chuckles once, “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how wet you get for me.”

With no hesitation, he slips two fingers inside you as your belly contracts. Gasping his name, you can’t help but cling to him as light shoots through your body at the incredibly welcome feeling of his hands there.

“Nam- Namjoon, ah!” Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you can feel your nails dig into his sturdy flesh as he begins rocking you with a motion so good, so fluid you fear you may simply float away and never touch the ground again.

“Yes, baby? What is it?” 

“You. I want you. Please.”

“You have me, baby.” His teeth are gritted in focus as he works you, his brow dipped low as he watches how easily you come undone with his attention. Warmth gushes over his fingers as he feels your walls contract in tandem with the tug of your hands in his hair. The sting is sharp and sublime as you grasp him tight with every part of you.

“Inside. Come inside. Need you. Now,” you plead. Your other hand trickles down his torso to the soft hair above his member before holding him firmly with a twist of your hand. He moans, hips canting into your delicate palm.

Namjoon doesn’t need to be told twice. Slipping his fingers out of the way, he scoops you safely to the edge of the island, one large hand stroking himself and guiding him to line up with your eager entrance.

The essence of you coats the tip of him without any effort, your body unfolding, so relaxed for him, as he easily begins to slip inside you. It’s so abundant that the slide is effortless, helping him bottom out almost immediately within you. Your head falls back in wonder as he does, your hands quickly planting against the cold counter to catch you. 

Wow. God, Namjoon’s body always has a tendency to overwhelm you, no matter how many times you get caught up in each other like this. You still can’t get over that. Honestly, it would be impossible to when he’s built like he is. 

He’s broad everywhere- that’s obvious to anyone. But here, he’s long and thick, with thighs like tree trunks powering each movement as he glides inside you. Any other time, you might have needed his help to adjust, for him to take his time to warm you up, but this morning? Your body is ready for him, and he knows it. 

It’s unfolding itself for him like a bloom to the sun, and he’s reverent enough to return its worship. You’re so wet that he can feel it trickling down his hip as he pistons into you, and he regrets not dipping down to sample a taste of it before coming inside. But now that he’s here, there’s absolutely no way he’s leaving the warmth of your walls until you're both falling over and spent.

Your ankles are crossed behind him, pulling him as close as you can get him, and his face is pressed against your neck and collarbone as both your hips work in dizzy tandem. The sensation of it sends his consciousness swirling as the pressure in his abdomen builds.

He’s convinced now that you’re a real, actual goddess. There’s no way you could make him feel this divine if you weren’t. Your ambrosia coats his thickness, spilling over him as he thrusts harder, deeper, tilting his hips to curve against that spot inside you that—

“Oh! God! Joon,” you yelp. “Yes, don’t stop.”

His grin is infectious. You can feel it against your skin as you pull him tighter, rocking in time with him as your euphoria builds. Your laugh is bright, sparkling as he licks his fingers and slips them swirling over the sensitive burst between your legs. Your breath catches, his name and profanity tumbling from your lips in equal measure.

You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. Your senses are on overload, your vision darkening around the edges as the pleasure he paints across your body escalates rapidly. Somewhere far off, you can hear his voice. His mouth is near your ear, his breath cooling your skin that’s become sticky with sweat, but you can’t understand, can’t wrap your brain around what he’s saying…

Until you realize that even fully coherent, you’d still be lost because your forever intoxicating husband has slipped back into his native tongue. You love it when this happens. With his senses so thoroughly drowning in you,  translating language just becomes too hard a thing to manage, so the harder and deeper he goes, the lower the bass in his voice becomes as he mumbles in korean against your ear.

You’ve learned enough to catch words like “beautiful” “perfect” and “God, I love you,” but the rest remain a mystery as he captures the innermost parts of your body for himself with swift, perfect strokes of his hips. The depth he’s reaching right now has you in raptures. It has your breath coming in short gasps as your breasts bounce buoyantly with each...incredible… thrust he delivers.

You won’t last much longer. You know it. And All you can think right now is how badly you want to look in his eyes when you come- which you know will happen any second now.

  Between his touch, his voice, the indescribable way he moves his hips when he’s inside you, and the crescendo you feel from the spot he’s internally caressing right now, you know you’re only moments away from dissolving into the atmosphere, yet all you want is more of him.

“Joon, baby, I’m so close. Look at me. Please,” you move one of the hands supporting you to hold his face and bring it to yours.

God, that please of yours. It flows so naturally from your lips when he has his way with you. He doesn’t know how to describe what it unleashes in him, but he knows it never fails to wreck him. “Shh, let go, baby girl. I’m right here. I got you.” 

Before he can think, he’s kissing you deeply, his tongue insatiable as he tastes you. He alternates between kissing you and pulling back to catch your eyes. The depth of affection in his gaze warms you brilliantly from the inside even as you swear you can practically feel his thrust against the underside of your lungs. 

His once seamless rhythm has become all feel and nuance. All order is long lost as he makes his last powerful dives into the depths of you. You can feel it- the tightness in his body, the firm set in his jaw, the profound depth of his voice as he praises your body in Korean. If you were to die like this, caught up in Namjoon’s impeccably loving, gracious body, you wouldn’t have a single regret.

There’s nothing more you could ask for. 

The glittering sensation pulsing through your body let’s you know it’s almost time to surrender, and you’re ready to come undone. Surely, there could be nothing more blissful than this— until Namjoon takes the hand he’s kept gripped around your waist and slips it up to your throat.

Your eyes go wide. 

He really was paying attention. Husband of the year, indeed. 

And just like that, the express trip to ecstasy nearly slams into your body. His eyes are locked on yours. He’s muttering a soft “good girl” and “that’s it, baby” as he works his powerful hips into you. He has one hand clamped firm and perfect below your jaw along your throat, and the other dancing elegantly along the bundle of nerves between your legs. He takes those fingers into his mouth to wet them, his face crumpling in a satisfied moan at the taste of you on his skin, before slipping them back where they belong. 

It’s altogether too much and you are lit up sparkling as the combined sensation of it all builds with the warmth of his body against you, within you. 

“Come for me, baby,” he says it clear and firm, his touch generous to help ease you over the edge. 

“Only if you come with me,” you breathe. Your eyes meet his as you try to find something to hold on to as the tension in you crests. 

He smiles then. All dimples and sweet eyes and perfect lips. He places a sweet kiss on your cheek beside your lips, and that’s all it takes to ruin you.

You feel your body contract around him in bliss as his name spills from your mouth. Making love to Namjoon has never felt commonplace, but there’s something about today. About him. About the sweetness of this morning in the middle of your perfect hidden home with him that makes you burst not only with pleasure, but with love. 

As your orgasm washes over you, you feel illuminated from within like the sun is glowing out of your skin as your body melts against him.

“I love you,” you whisper. “You’re so perfect.”

As your body floats back down from wherever you just astral projected from bliss, you can feel that his body is just a breath away from tipping over the edge itself. He’s pulling back, pulling out, intending to spill himself elsewhere, but in that instant, you realize you don’t want that.

Your memory flashes back to your wedding day. To the moment those hideous people decided to squawk about your child-rearing, heir-producing duty just hours after your vows, and Namjoon had cut them off immediately at the jump and whispered,” don’t pay them any mind. That happens when you’re ready. Not a second before,” soft against your ear. 

It was one of the first instances that made you realize what a good man he was. How willing he was to put your readiness, your comfort, before anyone or anything else. And now, as you take him in, as you remember how truly and deeply you love him, you realize you’re ready for there to be more.

You’ve had countless discussions with him about starting a family, and everytime, without missing a beat, his answer has always been, “whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.” 

You've come to learn over this past year that he’s wanted nothing more than to become a dad since he was a small boy.

You’ve gotten to witness how fun, gentle and gracious he is with his nephews. With Jimin’s daughter, his sweet godchild. For a year, you’ve watched him be good and kind to any child he meets, patient with you, subdued as he hides the depth of his desire to be a father behind his dimpled smiles and suave redirection when you bring it up. 

He’s been willing to wait for you. He never pushes. He never demands. And in this moment, as you study the face of the incredible man who’s welcomed you into his heart and his home, all you want is to begin the journey to give him what you know he will never ask for, even though it’s what the secret parts of his heart want the most. 

“Namjoon,” you whisper,” don’t. It’s okay. You can finish inside me.” You caress his face lovingly as his eyes go wide. 

“Really? But baby… I… what…” Your eternally eloquent man has gone slack jawed in his loss for words as his hips begin to still.

“It’s okay,” you nod. “I want you to. I want to feel you.” You kiss the dip of his dimple.

“Are you sure? i-“ he stumbles before you lovingly cut him off.

“I think it’s about time we start trying for our family, don’t you?” You whisper. Your fingers thread through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes as his face beams with light. His shoulders and chest are shaking with laughter as his eyes flit between yours and he smiles.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” His hands slip up to cradle your face, the most beautiful mixture of excitement and relief and the purest joy making his misty eyes look brilliant in the early light.

“Absolutely,” your voice is soft as you tip your nose against his. Your smile is all pearls and laughter as you reach to grab the full apples of his ass and push him into you.

He’s laughing and smiling and gasping when you do, before happily resuming the final few thrusts he would need to send himself over the edge.

“Use me, baby,” you whisper, eyes alight with the gentle seduction that always ruins him. “I want to feel you when you finish.”

Biting his lip, he swallows and nods, almost too eager, but you’re beautiful and warm and you’ve gotten so tight around him and he can’t help himself. He’s close. He’s already soo close. He’s spent nearly this whole morning trying to contain himself inside you despite the absolutely mind numbing feel of you, and here you are telling him to let go? It’s impossible that you’re real.

Pulling his face to you, he realizes you’re kissing him. Your honey sweet tongue has made a home in his mouth. Your soft breasts brush his chest with every thrust. Your hands are clutching his back and in his hair. Your heels pressed into the back of his legs to pull him close, and now he knows you want to carry his baby.

To allow your body to grow and change just to hold his seed, start his family and realize his dream of not only being a husband to you but a dad to your babies. He’s so in love with you. So maddeningly, ridiculously, stupidly, over the moon in love with you, and all at once, it’s happening.

His release is coming, strong and quick, and he can finally drown in the feeling of it happening while you surround him. His body is reeling at the burst of perfection he feels from losing himself in you like this. The cloud like swells of your thighs pressing around him might very well be the only thing holding him up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I love you.” His face is buried in your neck, your chest, your hair, your cheeks- everything all at once- his full lips dropping kisses on your skin like stars falling from heaven. 

When he pulls back to look at you, he can’t even put what he’s feeling into words. But it’s okay. Because you know. He can see it in your eyes.

Cradling his face, you smile up at him, eyes glossy and happy. “You ready?” 

“To have a baby with you?” His voice falters as his smile grows so wide his eyes nearly disappear. “There isn’t anything I want more.”

Pressing his forehead to yours as he hugs your waist, you both press your noses together and laugh. Overcome with something almost too sweet to simply be called happiness. The word seems too small to encompass it all.

“Maybe I’m not husband of the year yet, cause I definitely didn’t see that coming.” He chuckles.

“Oh shut up. I know you felt how you made me finish. You’re just showing off at this point.”

“I can’t have my baby girl leave anyway but satisfied with me.” He winks, and you smack his chest lightly.

“I’d be mad at you for being so smug if you weren’t actually as great as you think you are,” you scrunch your nose at him as he laughs.

“Well, if there are any areas of improvement I can work on, let me know. I hear I'm about to have a lot of time to workshop your suggestions.” Namjoon lovingly nips at your collarbone, and you tingle in bliss at the thought of how many more moments like this lie in your near future.

“Duly noted. On that note then, I feel compelled to point out that what you just did counted as an excellent submission for husband of the year.”

“Oh really?” He licks his lips slowly as you nod.

“Remember- you can make as many entries as you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Limitless,” you assent. 

“Good to know. I’ll keep it mind,” he smirks, dipping down to lift the fullness of one of your breasts into his hand as he gently kisses the top of the swell of flesh. You sigh into his kiss. This is going to be a spectacular journey— you can already tell.

“Namjoon.”

“Hmm?” His eyes perk up, though his mouth never leaves its preoccupation with your bare chest.

“Is this… is this okay? I hope I didn’t spring this on you too soon or… I don’t know...too out of the blue? Because your comfort is important too, and I—“

You’re swiftly cut off by the sweet press of Namjoon’s delicious lips against yours. “Shh. Yes, I want this. More than anything.”

“So my timing wasn’t—“

“No. It was perfect. You’re perfect,” he kisses the tip of your nose as your lips bloom into a smile. “And if we are going to try to fill that cute belly of yours with a baby, then maybe… maybe this shouldn’t just be a weekend visit.”

Tipping your head to look at him, you feel your brows scrunch. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this has always been our getaway spot. A place to stay safe and lie low when things get jumpy in the city. A place to take you when we want to be alone. Truly be alone. But if…” he hesitates, lacing your hand with his and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “If you’re going to be carrying my baby, I want to keep you safe. I promised you that the day I met you- I’d never let anything happen to you. It’s been risky enough to have you in the city all this time as it is.”

“So...what exactly are you suggesting, love?” You run your thumb lovingly over his knuckles.

“I’m proposing if you do get pregnant, we move you out here. Permanently. Or at least somewhat long term.”

“Wait…” you pull away, eyes clouding as you do. “Alone? Without you?”

“No. No. I didn’t word that right. I’d be here as much as i can, and I’d send the security detail to stay out here whenever I have to leave so—“

“Namjoon, I don’t want to be all the way out here by myself. Surely, that’s not necessary.”

He frowns as he tries to gather his thoughts. “This is coming out wrong...You wouldn’t be fully by yourself. I’d be here as much as I can. I just... want you protected. Safe. And out of the city while you're carrying something so precious.” The backs of his knuckles graze your stomach. 

“But I don’t understand. Why—“

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you.” His voice has turned solemn, his eyes an odd shade of vulnerability when they meet yours. 

“Joon, nobody’s gonna do anything. You’ve made that city so secure-nobody could hurt me even if they tried.”

Something stormy and troubled clouds his eyes.It makes you wonder if there are things he hasn’t told you. Things he’s kept to himself to ensure that your life is as peaceful as possible. You wonder what kind of darkness he’s had to swallow for your sake. 

“But they have tried.”

It's news to you. 

“What do you mean… when?” 

“It’s happened a few times. Nothing ever got far enough to warrant bringing it up.”

“What on earth? Joon, why in the world wouldn’t you tell me that?” 

He sighs once, from some deep place in his bones. “Because i never wanted to have to see the look in your eyes that I do right now.”

Suddenly, any anger you held vanishes all at once. 

“Baby, why are you carrying something like that all by yourself?”

“So you don’t have to. I promised I’d keep you safe, and I meant it. That includes taking care of your peace of mind. Something you won’t have if you knew how many times someone’s shot off at the mouth about coming for you because they’re irate at me or how many times someone has done more than just talked and actually tried.”

It’s a sobering thought.

“Is that… is that the real reason why you never pushed for an heir?” For reasons you can’t explain, the idea makes you want to cry. Namjoon sees the shift immediately, his fingers ready to brush your tears before they even fall.

“Shhh, hey. No. I mean, it’s part of it. You know all I’ve ever wanted was to be a parent. When I married you, please know the idea of you being the mother of my children sent me over the moon, but I know this world. How people take what they want. Do what they want. I wanted better for you.” He runs his fingers soft over your cheek like you’re some spun glass artifact he needs to protect. 

“I wanted to be better for you than the men in this world were going to give you. I promised myself that I was never going to demand anything from you. That’s why I didn’t push for an heir. I meant it when I said we go at your pace. Always.”

Sniffling, you look up at him through wet lashes. 

“Joon, protecting me doesn’t mean you hide the truth from me.”

“Not even if it would hurt you? Scare you?”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to marry you. It’s so kind of you to try to take these burdens so I don’t have to, but then who carries them for you? That’s my job. You have to let me do it.”

Closing his eyes, he exhales long and slow through his nose. 

“You really mean it, don’t you? You really want to know.”

“Yes,” you nod, caressing his face. He looks troubled. You’d give anything to help take some of his cares away.

“Then you should know why we came to the villa this weekend.”

“So it wasn’t just for a getaway?” You brace yourself for whatever it is you’re about to hear.

“It is, and it isn’t. I guess I have to go back a bit for this to make any sense, but my family isn’t from here. You know that. Our roots don’t go back as many generations as yours do, so when the new kid on the block started gaining power in this city faster than anyone had seen before, there were a lot of families that weren’t happy about it.

Especially not when the daughter of one of the oldest families in the city became my bride. There had already been a lot of grumbling against me before I made such a powerful ally, and there were certainly plenty after. Anything we’d stumbled on over the last few months had been mostly hearsay, but…”

“What is it, Joon?” You're worried now. You can hear the way his voice sounds choked.

“There was a deal that went wrong a few weeks back. Just a skirmish with some lower level captains that got out of control, but I thought I’d put a pin in it. Turns out the other family involved hadn’t let it go like I thought …” he stops, eyes going cold as color drains from his face.

“Baby, it’s okay. You can tell me,” you reassure. 

Closing his eyes, he licks his lips and takes a deep breath, his voice lower, raspier when he continues. “There was a hit put out on you this past week.

You’re shocked. “There— what?”

”It’s okay now. Jungkook caught intel on it soon enough that he crushed it before the people responsible could hurt you, but I've never seen anyone get this close. Y/n, I couldn't breathe when he told me. When I found out, I nearly lost my mind. I called you immediately to make sure you were safe— I couldn’t breathe til I heard your voice.”

You had no idea he’d been through that. You can’t imagine what you would have done if the roles were reversed, if you’d been seconds away from losing him. It would’ve shattered you. You’re not sure how he’s still standing.

“Once I knew you were okay, the first thing I could think was that I needed to get you out of town as fast as I possibly could. Something’s building in that city, y/n. The lower families are tired of their rank. They’re itching to get back any sort of power they can- it’s making them reckless. There’s rumors of a war building…I’d dismissed it so far. Didn’t think they were a real threat until they had the nerve to try something like this. We squashed it, but this was too close, and I’m not willing to risk you.”

Realization dawns across your face. “That’s why we left with less than an hour's notice. I’d thought you were just being romantic about a weekend getaway but ...That’s why we came to this safe house and not the one on the edge of town, isn’t it?”

His eyes fall away as he nods, “That’s why our security detail was thicker than usual.”

“But I've hardly seen anyone.”

“That’s on purpose. I didn’t want to scare you.  Didn't want to draw attention to a whole parade leaving town so I had them follow us at a distance. They’re stationed all around the property and schooled to stay out of sight.”

“What about the boys? Was it safe to have them here this weekend with their wives? Their girlfriends? Didn’t we put them in danger?” Your rounded eyes betray the sudden guilt you feel for what you thought had been such a beautiful night.

“Shh, no. Hey, they’re fine. I had them all moved out to safe houses not too far from here with a security detail on them too. They’re just a few miles from here. That’s why I didn’t feel bad about them driving out last night- they didn’t have to go all the way back to the city, just to our guest houses and then their safe houses in the morning….I’m having them all lie low for a little while. Figured they’d want their girlfriends and wives as close to their side as I want mine. Thought having them over was a good distraction for a night.”

You had no idea. Something cold runs up your spine at the thought that this weekend, this beautifully perfect day could’ve been so different. Or perhaps not even happened at all. 

Slipping your dress back into place, you cover yourself. It feels wrong to have this conversation half naked. Namjoon seems to sense it too as he pulls his pants back on. He offers to help ease you down from the counter, picking you up and placing you gently on the whitewashed floorboards, making sure you’re steady before he lets you go. 

Under any other circumstances, you’d laugh at how he has to make you sure you’re stable enough not to keel over where you stand after blessing you with an orgasm so bright it makes your soul radiate around your body. Now though, you find your hand cradling your lower belly, feeling entirely naive for thinking now was the time to bless the world with Namjoon’s child. You should say something, but the words get stuck in your throat…. you feel like a fool.

“I’m gonna make us some coffee, yeah? You want a cup?” Namjoon offers softly. When you look up, he looks so worn out all of a sudden. Like he’s somehow aged years during the course of this conversation. Like he really does need a cup of coffee, if not something stronger.

“Sure, baby. I’ll take one.”

Nodding, he presses a kiss to your forehead before he plugs in the black gooseneck kettle you’d gotten him for his birthday. The gift had been simple, thoughtful, and if he was honest, it was the best present anyone had ever given him.

He practically survives on black coffee most days. At the beginning of your marriage, he was always long gone before you rose most mornings, so in an attempt to slow him down and have more time with him, you’d gotten him a pour over set and a gooseneck kettle to replace his old instant apparatus.

He wondered if you were aware of all the additional gifts it had given him along the way....It required time to steep and brew. Time he’d never given himself before he met you. The methodology of it soothed him, provided his mornings with a small structure and routine he’d never had in a lifestyle marked by so much chaos. 

Taking the time to make his absolutely necessary coffee this way helped wake him up gently, slowed him down enough for you to have the time to slip out of bed and catch him before he was gone, to hold him while he prepared it. To remind him of the precious reason he needed to be careful while he was out that day. 

As the water boils, he turns his back to you. He feels himself melt when your arms wind around him. Softly, you press a kiss between his shoulder blades before your touch slips away as quietly as it appeared. The subtle sounds of your footsteps fading as you walk away and the gentle buzzing of the kettle are all that fill the room in the silence between you.

Namjoon sighs as he turns, his arms crossed as he leans against the counter to watch you.  Without a word, you silently procure a hearty loaf of fresh,crusty bread from the pantry and begin to slice it for breakfast. As your head tips down in concentration, he watches your untamed hair fall in your eyes. It’s beautiful the way it frames your face. It makes something squeeze in the center of his chest.

Crossing the room, he comes to stand beside you, lightly brushing your hair back into place for you with his hand. You still in your task, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes, baby?” 

“If it’s this dangerous…” your voice is barely above a whisper, “this unsafe… does that mean we shouldn’t have a baby?” When you look up at him, your eyes are starlit with tears. Your hands are trembling, and he hates to see you so sad.

“No. You’re ready, and I want a family,”’he soothes.

“But… but if there’s this much risk, how can our child ever have a normal life? Won’t we always be afraid for them all the time? Is that selfish? To make a life that has to live in this world just because we want them to?”

He brushes his fingers over the cascade of teardrops starting to fall from your eyes. “All parents have to worry about that, y/n. This world is still a scary place even outside my line of work.”

“I know. But they don’t have to worry about a hit on their child’s life or a ransom or generation’s old grudges putting their child at risk....They just have to worry about whether or not a child in their daughter’s class has a peanut allergy because little ashley will only eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches right now and nothing else.”

You’re talking with your hands as Namjoon gives you a smile that’s equally warm and sad. “That’s a really specific scenario.”

“I went through a phase in first grade, okay?”

He finds your eyes until you laugh before pulling you in tight against his chest. “First of all, that’s adorable. We’ll address that again later because little y/n sounds incredibly cute. And secondly,” he sighs,” you grew up in this world- the same as me- and we both survived. Having a child is expected of us, yes, but if that’s not what you want... it doesn’t have to happen. But, if we both want one… if being a mom will make you happy, then I’m going to find a way to give you that.” There’s a heaviness about him right now. An authority resigned to accept whatever fate weighs on your heart the most as he watches your eyes fill with questions.

“But won’t we be afraid for them all the time? I feel so naive for only thinking of how much I’d like to meet them, how much I’d love them just because they’re a part of you, when I should have known better.”

“That’s not naive. That’s beautiful. No matter what they’re like, we’ll love them. Because they’re ours.”

“What if they don’t want any part of this world? They should have a choice… but can I even give them one or will their only option be serving as the new head of the Kim family one day?” Your face looks stricken. “Did you get to choose?” Your watery eyes flit up to his. 

He swallows, face stony as you survey him. “I did what I had to do so our life can look however we want it to,” he’s sighing again, worn out out by memories you may never see. “Look, you’re my wife, and I’m your husband. As far as I’m concerned, we’re the ones get to decide what’s right for us, y/n. I’ve told you that, and I meant it- that extends to our children too. Their lives don’t have to look like what anyone else wants but them. I don’t care if they want to be painters or accountants or captains in the family. They get to shape the life they want. That’s what I’ve worked so hard for.”

You feel your eyes flutter shut in relief on their own accord. Of course he’s already thought this through to this degree. When has your Namjoon ever done anything less? It soothes your mind to know he’s taken the time to lay the groundwork so you don’t have to. Still though, questions you’re ashamed didn't occur to you sooner rattle through your head and spill from your mouth.

“Do they have to spend their life in boarding school like I did? Are our only options to send them away or be scared for them every day?

“Y/n, no. We’ll find what works for our family. I want that with you- figuring that out and watching them grow. I’ll keep you both safe. However I have to. I promise you.” His thumb brushes over your ring as he holds your hand against his chest. “I promised you.”

And just like that, it hits you all over again- how much you love this man. How deeply you trust him with every fiber of your being. How you couldn’t have found a better man to love you if you’d tried. You two are it for each other- you’ve known it since the day you met him on the steps.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers, kissing your knuckles,”... but, y/n?”

Your eyes flit up to meet his. “Yes, love ?”

“I meant what I said. If this is all too much, if this scares you, we can wait.” His brown eyes are so deep and sincere. You know every part of him means it, and it’s precisely because of that, that you say the words you do.

“No. I want this. All of this. With you. We’ll figure this out,” you nod, gently pulling the back of his neck down so your foreheads are touching. “I want to have a baby with you. I’m all in, if you are.”

You can feel the rush of tension that leaves his body. He wraps you in his arms, so close and secure, and something innocent comes from him that you don’t think you’ve ever heard.

“God, you know I am. Thank you.”

His voice is as robust and full as always, but his eyes… there’s something so young and soft and terrified in them. Like the weight of all he’s been carrying alone has crashed down on him all at once. “I’m so excited to have a baby with you if it happens. And it’s okay if it doesn’t. But I can’t wait to try.”

You’re nodding and crying, and you realize something that perhaps has never dawned on you before. This is the first time you’ve seen him truly this vulnerable. He’s always so strong, so composed. Too busy holding up an entire empire and caring for you to let his walls fully fall. 

But as he buries his face in your neck, you suddenly feel dampness pooling against your skin and realize he’s crying. You wonder how you got here on a morning that had been so serene and full of bliss. Bliss you now realize has come at a price.

“I was so scared I'd lost you the day we came here.” Slipping your hand into his hair, the other soothes his back as he clings to you tighter. “I'm so glad you’re okay. You’re so smart. I know you are. You don’t make reckless mistakes when you’re out— you take good care of yourself— but I was so afraid. My heart dropped when Jungkook told me what he’d heard. He couldn’t calm me down until I heard your voice on the phone.”

Stroking his hair, you recall the phone call just a few days ago. How strangled and out of breath he’d sounded. How you’d asked if he was okay, and he’d simply said he was now.

“It’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay.” 

He takes a moment to collect himself, pressing you so close you may fuse together. It’s unguarded, and precious. Something you know both of you treasure as he nuzzles into your skin in that space along your neck where his face perfectly fits.

It’s as simple as that. You both stay like this for as long as you can, secure in his embrace, your breathing settling until it’s nearly in sync. It’s peaceful for you, cathartic for him. It’s a moment framed by a different kind of intimacy than the one you both shared in this very room less than an hour ago. 

He shows no sign of letting you go until the kettle begins to howl for him from across the room. When he does, his fingers trace the silk fabric along your waist as his lips kiss your forehead. He takes one more heavy breath before he squeezes you in release to tend to the coffee.

“Cream and sugar?” He asks, his voice thicker than usual.

“Always,” you answer.

And so the morning resets itself. 

The day shifts into afternoon. The sun drifting higher, brighter, casting the shadows and ridges of Namjoon’s sculpted body in almost Grecian relief as he carefully pours the water for both of you over the coffee grounds. You finish slicing the crackling bread loaf and bring it to the table to place it beside the remnants of Seokjin’s charcuterie board. 

It’s only when you catch sight of your lacy table cloth that you remember the accident that started the whole morning to begin with. You’d both gotten so preoccupied with each other that you never made it any further than cleaning his shirt and not the rest of the disaster.

Smiling to yourself, you gently slide the cloth off the table and fill the sink with cold water to soak it. Looking over at your husband, you realize wine stains still swirl over the front of Namjoon’s linen pants. There’s a very good chance those are fully set now, but just in case, you might as well try to fix them. 

So, gently, you hook a finger into his waistband and tug. “Let me have these.”

“Round two all ready? Greedy girl.” He winks, his voice soft as follows the drip of his Colombian roast.

“No, smart girl. We did a terrible job of getting you cleaned up.” You pop the p at the end of the word as you snap the elastic on his pants.

Looking a bit lost, Namjoon glances down to see the lovely pastel splashes of rosé running clean down the front of his pants. He’d been too busy to notice once you’d gotten him out of them. Blushing for no reason other than the embarrassment of you having to clean up his foibles, Namjoon dips down to remove the trousers, leaving himself looking statuesque and unreasonably gorgeous in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs in the afternoon light as he tends to the coffee.

You feel terribly immature over how quickly affected you are by the sight of him in his current predicament and carefully take the pants from him, only to turn abruptly in search of some fresh air and relief. Namjoon catches your equally flustered state, smiling to himself, but doesn’t acknowledge it out loud. This spell of quiet that’s settled over the room is too peaceful to break.

Once the coffee’s done, he brings both your cups to the broad heirloom table, and you enjoy breakfast… or, he supposes, brunch at this point...together in the stillness. Every bite you take is piled high with prosciutto and fig while Namjoon drizzles honey on his slices of bread. 

It’s peaceful, idyllic. Tranquil enough to forget the world that awaits him back in the city.

It’s funny, the duality of his life. How easy it becomes in moments like these to lean into the simplicity of breakfast with his lover and ignore the undulating danger and uncertainty awaiting him in the rest of his world. It makes him realize how much he’s come to covet exchanges like this when he gets to feel like you’re just two people in love and nothing else. 

As his eyes trace over you, he promises himself to do everything in his power to make sure your life with him is hallmarked by sweet pockets like these. As many of them as he can give you. 

At some point Namjoon pushes up to get the carafe of orange juice from the fridge, and after assigning your more capable hands the job of opening the champagne, you both polish off your brunch with the tinkling clink of your toasting mimosa glasses. 

Once your bellies are full and satiated, Namjoon looks up at you. His elbows are propped up on the table, chin contentedly resting in his hands. There’s a question hidden in the corner of his lips as his eyes glisten with mischief.

“So… what else do you have in mind for your agenda today, my bride?” He reaches across the table to grab your hand, kissing the back of your palm as you giggle and roll your eyes.

“Well if you must know... I'm thinking I might give my sister a call. See if she’d be willing to come pay me visit.” You offer, pushing one of the last grapes around the corner of the board, avoiding the way Namjoon’s eyes shine. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you shrug nonchalantly. “Maybe she could come stay in one of the guest houses. Potentially. Once I move out here. Whenever that may be.” 

“So my baby won’t be alone when I’m gone?” His dimples are popping in his cheeks as his smile spreads wide. It’s a brilliant idea to bring her out here with you until Namjoon can finesse a way to be by your side 24/7. He wonders why he didn’t think of it sooner. Probably because you’re as smart as you are beautiful. 

“Neither of your babies.” You crinkle your nose as you smile back at him. 

“I like the sound of that,” he’s beaming back at you, happy and light. His eyes are misty with emotion he can’t hide, and it only makes you love him more.

“Me too.”

“So, how would you feel about getting to work as soon as possible then?” His eyebrows bounce salaciously your way, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Is that what you want?” 

“If it’s what you want. Always.” Namjoon licks his lips and a crackle of electricity shoots up your spine. The parallels to how this morning started are not lost on you. It makes something in you thrill with excitement.

“Well, I would love to take a bath. Our activity this morning was excellent, but I must say you left a bit of a sticky mess in your wake.” 

“Sorry,” Namjoon ducks his head bashfully.

“So I’m going to break in that beautiful clawfoot tub and fill it to the brim with matcha bubble bath.”

“Mmm. With the orange blossom bath salts too?”

“Always,” you wink as Namjoon bites his lip.

“God, you always smell so good when you use that. It makes your skin so soft.” The thought of your skin fragrant and bare has his blood stirring again as his eyes rake over you.

“Well you are welcome to keep me company and read to me while I soak,” you offer nonchalantly as you walk away. You can feel his eyes on your hips as you round the corner, quickly followed by the sound of his bare feet against the floorboards.

“Or I could join you in the water.”

When he responds, his voice is closer than you expected it to be. He’s caught up to you so quickly with those long legs of his.

“Or you could finish the chapter of the book you were reading to me on the way up. You left me on such a cliffhanger when your hands got distracted on the drive. I’m dying to know what happens next.”

Biting his lip, that wicked gleam is back in his eyes at the memory of the drive up and the things the two of you got up to in the privacy of the tinted, shielded back seat.

“Fair enough, but I get to join after.” His hand is forceful where it slips across your waist. You tumble into him, wanting nothing more than to let him win and start this game all over again, but you had a feeling you were winning this round, and you like to win.

“I can promise you no such thing. We’ll just have to see how the day goes,” you shrug, dismissing him completely to climb the stairs.

As much as he enjoys the view, Namjoon loves the play for dominance more: it’s cute on you. Too bad he’s still got the upper hand. He catches you on the stairwell, turning you around to face him. His hand ghosts down the front of your silk draped stomach directly to the dip between your legs.

 He places enough pressure to catch your sensitivity there, smiling something wicked at the sound of your sharp inhale. He already knows how delicate you are after you’ve already finished once until he warms your body up again. The prospect of starting this dance all over again has him stiffening with delight against your leg when he feels the familiar slip of your essence help the fabric glide beneath his touch.

“Oh baby girl, you have no idea how well this day is gonna go.” His voice has dipped to an octave reserved only for the devil as he smiles at you and lifts you off the stairs and into his arms.

You squeal at the suddenness of it, wrapping your arms securely around his neck so you don’t fall. He just chuckles, something throaty and dark, as he carries you up the stairs and down the hall to the sunlit bathroom. 

Setting you on the counter, he turns to start the bath- scooping in bath salts, pouring your bubbles, raising the blinds so the room is flooded with light. He doesn’t want to miss a single look on your beautiful face when he has his way with you for a second time today.

Not once has it occurred to you to move from the spot where he put you. Instead, you sit perfectly still on the bathroom counter, feeling your nails dig into your palms, your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you watch him. Your pulse is already thrumming with anticipation all over again. 

When he turns back to you, you can see clear evidence of his arousal reshaping itself beneath his black briefs, and suddenly, despite your meal, there’s something else entirely that you want in your mouth. He catches the hungry way your eyes follow him as he walks back to you.

“Can I help you, baby?” His laugh is warm, even if his eyes are sinister. It’s all you can do just to nod your head and slip your fingers forward to tug at his waistband. When it begins to fall, you slip down to the floor, catching him off guard entirely. Not in a million years did Namjoon didn't plan on this course of events, but he certainly isn't unhappy about it. 

Namjoon leans back against the counter in the spot you’d just been sitting in as your hands grasp onto the muscular ridges of his toned legs. You set to work kissing his golden skin on his thighs slowly, indulgently, enjoying yourself as you go. 

You’ve always been weak in the knees for his absurdly gorgeous legs. They’ve only gotten more toned in the last year just like the rest of him, and between his dimples, his arms, his chest, and his legs, it’s hard to know where to begin. Or it would be if there wasn’t something hard and beautiful staring you in the face.

Namjoon is in heaven watching this unfold from above. When you slip him into your mouth, he feels all his rational thought go dark. He’s helpless to do anything but cave in. God, the two of you are like rabbits, but honestly, how can you not be when you make him feel like this? He begins to lose himself in the soft rhythm you create, something lazy and hypnotic, that makes him feel weightless.

He can barely hold himself, but every second is worth it. All he can do is luxuriate in the way you take your time as you bless him. At least, that’s how he always thinks of it because it’s truly nothing short of divine. 

He can’t tell if it’s been a few minutes or an eternity when all of a sudden, you’re abruptly letting him slip from your mouth with a pop and a sultry smile. The cool air rushing against him nearly startles him in the wake of the warmth he’d been cocooned in while your tongue did its incredible work. Because just as quickly as you started, you’re gone. 

He realizes then that the floor is wet. Apparently, You’d both gotten so lost in each other that the water in the tub had spilled over its edges and he hadn’t even noticed. Also, at some point during all this, you must have slipped out of your dress, because you’re lowering yourself into the water now as bare as you were on your wedding night.

Namjoon swallows. His body is ramping with endorphins, and he’s so worked up it nearly hurts. As he makes his way to the tub, you stop him with a dainty hand against his lower stomach.

“Ah, ah. I asked you to read to me.” 

Your eyes are coquettishly round as you bat them up at him. He’s tempted to scoff.

“Are you serious right now? Aren’t we in the middle of something?” His face is serious, focused as he eyes your breasts floating in the water amidst the matcha- scented bubbles.

You push back against his stomach again. “Yes, we were… in the middle of that last chapter. Book. Please.”

There it is again. The “please” he’s always been so enamored by. The “please” that’s usually the product of your need for him. The one he’s so infatuated with that he’d do anything to satisfy it. The one that, up until now, he’d thought you were unaware of, yet here you are using it against him.

That’s when he knows he’s trained you too well. There’s pride sparkling in your eyes as you look up at him, and he can’t believe it. Running a hand down his face, he shakes his head at you. What has he gotten himself into with you?

“ If that’s the way you want to play it, fine,” he squints at you with playful derision. “But I’m reading to you in the tub with you when I come back.”

“Oh please do,” you coo, batting your lashes at him.

Oh, you’re good. 

Namjoon can’t help but laugh at himself as he walks to the bedroom to collect the book. When he met you a year ago- the blushing, soft spoken girl who was too nervous to meet his eyes- he definitely never would have thought that a year later you’d be sending him down the hallway fully naked and half hard to fetch your literature for you while you float in a bath. He wonders when he got so wrapped around your finger like this, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t mind.

You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

 Being with you is the best his life has ever been. He’ll forever be grateful, that against all odds, you agreed to marry a man who was nearly a perfect stranger and create a life with him.

As he walks back to the bathroom, Namjoon catches a glimpse of your rosy smile flashing his way, peeking at him beyond the wall of bubbles. It fills his chest with something buoyant and light as he makes his way back to you.

There’s absolutely nowhere he’d rather be.

As he sinks down in the water behind you, more displaces, splashing out across the white wood beams and dousing your hair in the process. He apologizes profusely but instead of getting mad, you simply slip the rest of the way under the water to finish the job. When you resurface, you’re laughing so happily that your smile is the brightest thing in the room, putting even the afternoon sunlight to shame.

He pulls you to him, affection for you glowing warmly in his chest as you settle between his legs and look up at him. He kisses your forehead, his heart filled with contentment, before reaching forward to dry his hands on the closest available towel and thumbing through the book until he finds the page he marked.

The two of you stay that way until the chapter is finished and the book is closed. Until the bubbles all dissolve and the water’s gone cold. Even then, once the water is drained, you still stay wrapped in a tangle of Namjoon’s long limbs as you twist to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.

Eventually he straightens out his legs to allow you to climb into his lap so he can find his way home again and slip inside you. Your bodies are swathed in the golden light illuminating the room as the two of you go effortlessly slow and unhurried, taking your time . 

Namjoon sinks into you, lost in the beauty of you and your connection. 

This time, your session together is marked in emotion and security. 

He knows how much you want to start a family with him, and you know how special it was for him to let his walls down, to let you know how scared he was to lose you. Both of you are in awe of not only how attracted you are to each other, but also of the caliber of human you’re currently sharing your bodies with, of how transcendent love making can feel when your hearts and hopes are as interwoven in the act as they now are with all your cards on the table.

When Namjoon finishes this time, it’s in sync with you. It’s the first time that happened for the two of you in tandem. As your eyes search his, you're both aware that this shared state of bliss is nothing short of miraculous. As story-worthy as this act has always been between the two of, this time feels different. Markedly so.

Perhaps, it’s because you’ve both dropped your guards enough to fully let the other in, in a way you hadn’t uncovered before. If the crashing of his heartbeat has anything to say about it, Namjoon would probably guess that you've both sunken so deep into each other that it was impossible for the crescendo of your orgasms  not  to crest all at once for the both of you.

Once you’ve gathered yourself enough to speak, you watch Namjoon with dazed eyes, in awe that someone as incredible as him even exists, let alone that you get to call him yours. As he slips out of you, the warmth of his seed flows out between your thighs, and some ridiculous part of you can’t help but smile.

Namjoon catches it too, and leans forward to kiss you. 

“You’re gonna be a great mom, you know that?”

Your eyes flash to meet his. Your body is spent, your emotions are big and at this point, your heart feels so filled to the brim with affection for him that you fear it won’t fit in your body anymore.

“They’re gonna be the luckiest kids in the world to have you for a dad,” you whisper with shining eyes as you touch his chest.

He dips his head, smiling so exorbitantly wide that it consumes his whole face, and all you can think is that you can’t wait to see that dimpled grin shining back at you from the face of a little boy or little girl down the road.

“By the way,” you begin as his gaze perks back up to meet yours. “You should know that we’ve tallied the votes for husband of the year.”

“Oh really?” His brows lift attentively. “Should I pack it up? Is it time to let the dream go? Surely it’s not going to a rookie this year.”

“You’d be surprised,” you tip your head. Taking his hands you place them so they’re cradling your chest. “On behalf of the board and the esteemed academy, it is my honor to present the award of husband of the year to you, Kim Namjoon.”

As he throws his head back, he bursts into a bright fit of laughter and mock cheering like you’re both surrounded by a make believe crowd. 

“Oh my goodness,” he squeezes your breasts in his palm like the globes are irreplaceable awards. “I would just like to thank all the people around the world who supported me and believed me, who shined the light of their support on me even on days when this seemed bleak. We couldn’t have made it here without you guys. This award belongs to all of you.”

He waves to the imaginary audience he’s created before pressing your breasts together and happily burying his smiling face between them. He mumbles something you can’t understand that gets lost in the downy softness of your chest as you laugh at him.

“What are you even saying down there?”

“I’m thanking the people who got me here.” He eyes you soberly like that should be obvious before breaking character and cackling at how ridiculous this is. “I can’t believe we really kept this joke going all day.”

“I can’t believe I got in the tub to clean up the mess you left earlier only to now, once again, be sticky with dried up mess.” You look ruefully between your legs.

“Hey, hey, that mess may very well become your child.” He tuts as you grin and narrow your eyes at him. 

“I don’t think that’s how this works.”

“Semantics,” he shrugs, kissing your nose. You can’t help your eye roll that follows. “Hey,” he breathes, eyes suddenly serious.

“Yes, love?” 

“Please know, whatever happens, I’ll always love you, and I’ll always take care of you. Both of you, if we’re so lucky.” The tips of his fingers rest against your lower belly, and yep. You were right. Your heart bursts clean out of your chest. You can feel the way your eyes glisten, happiness spilling from them as you get lost in Namjoon’s smile.

“I know you will, Joon. I know you will.”

-fin.

[donutloverxo]

Stevie's new beard

*gif by @marvelheroes*

Birthday shot #2 & Kinktober day 8 - Beard kink

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - You have some strong feelings about Steve’s new look.

Warnings - 18+ only please, smut(m/f), dom Steve, daddy kink.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x female reader

Word count - 2.5k

Masterlists are linked in the bio!

One more swift turn over the corner, your eyes squinting as you tried to concentrate, “That’ll show him,” grumbling under your breathe, pressing the scissors down, “done.” With a smirk on your face.

You had been working on cutting out Steve’s face from your honeymoon album. An album you had spent hours on, your blood, sweet and tears, literally, you must’ve gotten like five paper cuts working on it. But none of that mattered. You were mad.

No, you were fuming.

The previous year, you hadn’t been able to celebrate your birthday with Steve since he was called on an emergency mission. Which was fine at the time you had only been dating for a few weeks. And when he went to Siberia over a month ago, you thought he’d be back for your birthday for sure. Then you’d get to have him pamper you and baby you for the whole day, not that you needed such an excuse, but still.

It was one in the morning, your birthday had already started and you doubted that Steve would be able to make it. He had gone silent a week ago, for his teams and your safety.

Well, by the time he’s back you’ll have cut him out of all your pictures. Maybe you’d even go stay at your sister’s for a while. You missed her and needed a vacation and teach Steve a lesson. You wouldn’t be back until he’s growling on his knees - begging for your forgiveness.

Or maybe... he wouldn’t care. Maybe he’d be glad that you’re gone. You didn’t know what you’d do if that happened, you always seem to be weighing him down. You understood that being married to Captain America meant that you had to share him with the rest of the world. Most of times, you were alright with that. You didn’t care much for the Captain, he was fine but he was no Steve Rogers.

You sighed, giving up on your little project, thinking about maybe calling it a night. Hopefully your friends remember your birthday and do something special for you.

Slipping into Steve’s t-shirt – because as much as you were mad at him, you really did miss him. This was the longest you had been away from him.

Fluffing your pillow, keeping Mister Steebie next to you, you climbed on top of it. Ready to switch off the lights -

“Hey there, sweetheart,” you gasped when you heard the low rumble, clutching your neck, taken aback and panting.

Taking a deep breathe, you looked at your door over your shoulder, sighing when you noticed it’s Steve.

Except it wasn’t...?

“What the fuck?” you frowned and did a double take.

Getting off your bed and walking over to the door. He was still dressed in his dark stealth suit, his dirty blonde hair swept back, his jaw covered in a thick beard - a few shades darker than his hair.

You stopped a few steps away from him, taking in his new look. You didn’t know what to make of it but it did make you shiver - for some reason.

Your lips pressed in a flat line as you stared at him. He spread his arms out, in an attempt to hug you, probably, trying to close the distance between you but you took a step back. Eyeing him suspiciously.

“What’s wrong, doll?” he tilted his head to the side, giving you his Disney eyes.

“What’s wrong with your face?” you spat.

“What do you mean?” his eyebrows scrunched together as he rubbed a hand over his beard.

“Don’t do that!” you admonished him, folding your hands under your titts, perking them up.

“Do what?” scratching his beard, “You’re not making any sense, doll. Didn’t you miss me?”

“I did,” you huffed, “Do you know what date it is?”

“Yes, I do know. That’s why I’m here. I got back as soon as the mission wrapped up. Now come here and let me give you a birthday kiss,” extending an arm towards you.

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head.

“Why?” he pouted. “I made it back in time, just like I said I would. I missed you, come on just one kiss... wait a minute. Is this about the beard?” You nodded. “You hate it? Tony said you would, I just didn’t have time to shave. I’ll go do it now then.” Since he was desperate for kisses and cuddles.

“No, don’t!” You pressed a palm on his chest, in an effort to stop him. “I mean, sure if you want to... but I don’t hate it. It’s kind of the opposite... I think. I just need time to process this.”

“Doll,” he exasperated, sighing, 'politely’ trying to tell you off. “I’m tired. And you’re really not making any sense.”

“I just fucking love your beard, ok!” you snapped. Your cheeks heating up at the brash confession. Clenching your thighs together. You shouldn’t like it as much as you did. It hides Steve’s beautiful face and makes him look so feral and dangerous. So not Steve.

“Really?” he quirked a brow, pulling you flush against his chest, “how much do you like it, puppy?”

“I - I don’t know...” Still embarrassed, you hide your face over his heart, rubbing your cheek against the rough kevlar of his suit. “I like it a lot, I think. Please keep it?”

He hummed, “But you won’t even look at me.”

“It’s a lot to take in, okay? It’s like, ugh remember when you saw me in my wedding dress?”

He'd never forget, he had cried like a baby. “This is nothing like that,” he rolled his eyes.

“It’s... give me some time. Small steps.” Bringing up a shaky hand to touch his soft fuzzy jaw, “Oh! Remember that time I bought that forties style nightie. And you went to town on me?” looking up at him, “This is like that.”

He nodded, finally understanding. “I get it, doll. But I’m afraid I don’t have time for ‘small steps’. I missed you so much,” Rutting his erection into your belly - as if to physically prove it. “And I need to make your birthday special. Treat the birthday girl right, huh?” He pressed his thumb on your cheekbone, caressing it, dipping his neck down to kiss you but you pulled away.

You hugged him again, standing on your tippy toes and nuzzling your nose in the crook his neck, his beard tickling you ever so slightly.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it. That I’d be all alone.” You whined. And then he comes back looking this good! Making it impossible for you to stay mad at him.

“Of course, I made it. Couldn’t let my best girl be alone. Now let me kiss you,” you shook your head again, “fine then. We can do your small steps. Let me eat you out,” biting the shell of your ear, “I’m hungry, doll.”

There was no way you could say no to that. “Oh - okay,” you gulped a huge lump of air.

Suddenly, he swept you off your feet, throwing you over his shoulder, his hand kneading your ass before smacking it, “Missed this sweet ass too.” he said, throwing you on top of the mattress. “I like this shirt on you, pup,” he smiled, his heart swelled as he felt strangely possessive of you, hovering above you, “But it had to come off.”

With a lack of finesse, his greedy hands ripped the poor clothing to shreds. He hadn’t gone so long without you. He needed to be inside you as soon as he could.

“Stevie!” You tried to chastise him.

He threw the shirt away, growling at the sight of your naked breasts, your hard pebbles, your hands coming up to cover them from his dark eyes. That won’t do, he pulled them away, pinning them beside your head. “What do you think you’re doing?” he frowned

You shuddered. Really, a beard shouldn’t make that much of a significant difference but it made him all the more intimidating. “Sorry, daddy.” You pouted. If nothing else, the D-word always worked.

He shook his head, capturing a nipple in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. He made sure to run his beard over your breast. Letting go of your twisting hand as it clenched on the back of his head. Your back arching, pushing more your body to him.

With a loud ‘pop’ he let go of your hard nub, shoving two fingers in your mouth and ordering you to suck and like he obedient doll you were - you followed.

He pulled his fingers out, snaking his hand between your legs, dipping them in your heat. Then he noticed it and frowned.

Looking to his side, a sack of flour? No, looked fluffy enough to be cotton. “What is this?” he wanted to know.

You were too far gone to even register his words but you vaguely heard him. You bit your lip, following his eyes. “Oh, that’s Mister Steebie.”

“What?”

“That’s you. I missed you and I needed a cuddle buddy. So I stuffed some cotton in a sack, dressed him in your flannel and drew your face on him.”

His 'face' was just two dots with a blue sharpie, golden hair on his head and a pink mouth. “It’s cute.” he chuckled, grabbing ‘Steebie' and putting him on the floor, “But you don’t need him. You have the real thing now,” he reminded you, trailing kisses down your body, pushing your thighs apart to make room for him and settling between them.

“I suppose I should upgrade him now. Draw the beard on. I wonder if I have a brown sharpie,” you mused, yelping when you felt his teeth grazing over your clit. “God!” you heaved, propping yourself up on your elbows you looked down at him. A few strands of his hair had fallen on his forehead, he looked ethereal. “You’re so pretty, Stevie.” Your hand caressing his face.

He leaned into it, having been touch starved for over a month. “You’re the pretty one, pup. Now, will you be good for me? Let me treat my birthday girl right?”

You nodded. Laying back down, running your fingers through his longer locks.

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” he asked

“No, I followed your rules.”

“Good, I didn’t either.” Not that he had the time or space to anyway. But he wanted to save himself for you.

“Thor told me, women like a nice thick beard,” rubbing his face on your inner thighs, “he’s a bit of an oversharer. But I knew you’d like it too. Guess I was right.” He was smug about it too. He knew you inside and out. More than anybody else, maybe more than you know yourself.

He pushed your thighs apart as you squirmed above him, trying to clamp them on his head. “Now, sweetheart. I thought you promised to be good. Do I need to tie you up?”

You furiously shook your head. “No, please! I’ll be good.” Normally, you’d love to be tied up. But you needed to touch him, his face and his hair.

“I know it’s hard, pup, just try a little harder,” He tongue nudging at your entrance. His fingers spreading your lips apart, “such a pretty pussy,” he praised.

Wrapping his mouth around your clit and pushing his fingers in your pussy. He made sure to gather as much of your slick over his beard as he could, to make a mess of it.

You threw your head back, trying your best to stay still, it was too overwhelming, too good, “Stevie! Stop, stop please,” you begged, pulling on his hair.

He immediately pulled away, hovering back over you, inspecting you for any distress.

“I want to come with you inside me. Please.” you said, fluttering your lashes.

He sighed, “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Come on! It’s my birthday. You have to do as I say,” you giggled.

“As you wish,” he shook his head. He would’ve given in even if it wasn’t your birthday.

His fingers scrambling to get his dick out of his suit. Kissing your neck, sucking on your special spot, he pushed inside you. Digging his fingers in your hips, he bit your neck, “So fucking tight, doll.” He groaned, he was at the end of his rope, he couldn’t take it anymore, snapping his hips with a swift thrust he buried himself inside you.

“Stevie,” you mewled, feeling his tip pressing against your special spot. “Right there!”

Pulling his cock out and then pushing back, “Here?” he wiggled his hips, pressing his lips to your jaw.

“Yeah,” you gave a shaky reply. Already on the edge as he kept ramming in on your g-spot. “Steve, kiss me please?” You needed to feel his lips on yours, to feel his beards on your face.

Circling a hand under your waist to pull you up and closer to him, his hips setting a punishing pace, he crashed his lips on yours. Clashing your teeth together. He moaned as you pulled his bottom lip with your teeth, before kissing him again.

Letting go of his lips, just for a second to pepper kisses all over his beard and then kissing him deeply.

You clenched around his length, pulling his hair, biting the hilt to his jaw to stifle your scream. Waves of pleasure crashing over you one after another.

He came right after you, with a few more thrusts, filling you to the brim. He collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you.

He laid beside you, on his side your bodies still connected. He couldn’t have any of his spend escaping your tight cunt.

He kissed the crown of your head. “You liked your first gift?” he asked as you hummed. “Don’t worry, I got plenty more for you.” he smirked already feeling himself get hard again in your pussy.

When you were quiet for a while, so unusual for you, your fingers playing with his beard, “What’s wrong, pup?” He tilted your face up so he could see it.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. Suddenly feeling guilty for ruining your precious pictures. “They need you more than I ever will - your team and this world.”

“That’s... true. You don’t need me. You’re a strong woman, if anything I need you. But that’s a good thing, sweetheart. You want me. And that's enough for me.”

“Really?” Your lips curling up in a big grin as you nuzzled his beard, feeling awfully proud of yourself.

Steve’s heart was big enough to share him with the entire world. That he could still love you more than you could even begin to comprehend. And always make his way back to you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

[duskamethyst]

after party. (ft. keigo)

a/n: at this point i hope someone reads and enjoys it (i dont have any influence in this app lol). this is my longest fic yet.

word count: 6k

genre: quirkless AU, nsfw, smut, angst

warnings: fucked up– noncon/dubcon, tw physical abuse, tw emotional abuse, possessiveness, abusive relationships, cheating, intoxication (voluntarily), slight suicidal thoughts, yandere behavior

the behavior displayed by dabi is not love. no one deserves to be treated like shit in a relationship. if you are being abused, please find help.

pairing: dabi x f!reader (x keigo)

summary: keigo takes a liking on you but what does your ex boyfriend, dabi has to do say about it?

you walk out of the uber in your tight little dress with your friend and line in front of the club before the bouncers can check your IDs. your friend was the one who initiated the idea to go party since she had a rough day at work today and you would do anything to make her feel better so you agreed. besides, you were convinced that you were also in need of plenty of doses of serotonin and you haven’t gotten stupidly drunk for a while.

the echoes of the music that you heard from outside has become much louder and clearer as you walk inside the room. a throng of people are already wildly grinding against each other on the dance floor, some are making out and some just watch by their table, sipping on their expensive alcohol. your friend grabs you over by the bar to buy you some drink. one glass quickly turns to two, to three, four and five. you’ve finally reached your high and your body itches to join the crowd so you pull your friend towards the floor and squeeze in between bodies before you start to sway the night away – oblivious to the prying eyes that have been staring at you from one of the vip tables. 

you’re mouthing the lyrics as you shake your hips voluptuously with your hands snaking up and down from your hair to your body in a sultry manner, slightly aware of some of the males’ gazes around you but none even dare to make a move. you love how you manage to make their heads turn towards you while you’re doing the least and now you’re just drowning in euphoria and confidence. you know you’re stunning and you made damn sure that the dress you chose for tonight would show off your curves at the right places, not forgetting the hem barely covering your ass. you know you’re a fucking tease to those idiots.  

a pair of arms suddenly wraps around your waist and pulls you back, enveloping you into a warm and muscular hold – but loose enough for you to continue dancing. you turn your head back to the person and he raises his eyebrows invitingly as he locks his golden eyes with yours with a devilish smirk that graces his lips and instantly makes your heart leap. 

you feel like you’ve hit the jackpot. 

you keep on dancing and he slowly follows you from the back. when you boldly tease him by grinding your ass on his mid hard on, you can feel the grip on your hips hardens. with a proud smug tugging on your lips, you confidently turn your head to see him watching you down with his lip already between his teeth. you both know very well the effect you have on him right now.

“if you’re gonna do that, why don’t you come to my table?” he says loud enough in your ear to suppress the banging music. 

you pretend to think a little, though you know you can’t (and don’t want to)  turn down his offer – not when he’s this attractive because usually you’d easily reject any sleazy and scrawny guys without a second thought whenever they invite you for a drink with them. “i don’t know... should i?” you start to flirt.

“you like being a tease?” his hot breath lingers around your ear as he chuckles, sending a tingling sensation down to your core. “well, you’re damn good at it. come on.” 

from the look in your eyes, he already knows your game. he doesn’t give you a moment to answer and only smiles before pulling your hand as he walks you through the crowd. the fact that he is tall and built easily causes people to step away from him, making him look like moses parting the sea. you look around as you follow the man and spot your friend who is long forgotten, dancing with a random guy and giving you a thumbs up before shooing you away, most likely to tell you to just go with him.

by the time you reach his table, another guy that you assume as his friend is already seated and making out with a girl leaning next to him. you don’t have a clue of who they are and the dim lights aren’t really helping so you choose just to ignore it. 

“come here, baby.” the blonde pats on his lap as he sits down on the opposite side of the table, directly in front of his friend. there’s something about him that is mesmerizing as a whole and certainly, this man can easily get anyone that he wants. though you initially wanted to play hard to get, you find yourself to obey him, already straddling his laps as asked. you face him, wanting to give yourself a much clearer view of his features. his brows are thick and his lids are a little hooded, not sure if it’s from the alcohol or it’s naturally like that and he has some stubble on his chin. his eyes are dark – is he wearing eyeliner? but his golden irises make them bright at the same time. he’s too handsome for his own good and you’re pretty sure he knows it well. 

“such a pretty little thing.” he mumbles as his hand caresses your cheek and you’re hoping he doesn’t notice how your skin warms up to his touch.

you move your hips closer to his, your core grinding tauntingly through the fabric close to his groin. he rests his hands low on your back – too low and guides your hips as you continue to grind and roll against him, all while maintaining eye contact with you. 

“keigo. you can say it.” he suddenly says as he notices how you bite your lip from escaping any shameful noises as he bucks his hips closer to your needy cunt. you blankly stare at him before realizing that he just told you his name, most probably hear you to moan out. embarrassed, you lean and hide your face on the crook of his nape, involuntarily sniffing his cologne as you inhale. fuck, he also smells amazing. 

he laughs, “thought you were cheeky, but you’re also shy, huh?” 

the fact that he knows that he has the power of making you feel flustered gets on your nerves. as a retaliation, you bite the soft skin on his neck and successfully feel his body tenses up a little as a response. you grin victoriously against his skin and decide to deliberately try to get more reaction from him as you begin to suck and nibble on the same spot and it’s already making him shudder.

“already marking me, babe?” keigo looks at you as you pull away. “i’ll be sure to put ‘rough’ on the list then.” he grabs and squeezes your ass before pulling you into a hungry kiss, taking you off guard but you’re more than happy to return. you can feel that your dress is moving up almost revealing half of your ass from the way he keeps on clutching it along with the fabric and his friend can probably see a bit of your panties but you couldn’t care less, not when you feel so needy right now.

“get a room.” a deep voice from the other side suddenly interrupts.

keigo pulls away and glares at his friend past your shoulder. the remark alone suddenly makes you feel bad and ashamed so you think it’s best if you don’t turn around, no matter how much you want to tell him to piss off-- but he also probably paid for the table so you have no place to say that at all. 

“shut up, dabi.” 

dabi?

sure, you’re tipsy but you’re sober enough (and not deaf) to clearly hear what keigo said and it’s a name that you never want to come across again, let alone the person himself. you don’t want to be reminded of the person that hurt you so many times before. the person who threw out a year long relationship for his own desires and constantly making you feel bad about yourself, like you’re not enough and blamed you for the reason of why he cheated on you. the thoughts and memories of him haunted you for so long and you were grateful when you finally managed to get over it but now... guess you thought wrong.

the feeling of embarrassment you had is replaced by fear. you don’t have to see it but you know that dabi is wearing that ugly smirk when he sees how your body freezes and quick to pull down your dress properly. in a second, your brilliant portrayal of femme fatale suddenly vanishes into thin air. the bass from the music suddenly feels so loud and it makes your head dizzy. god, it’s all too awful. keigo notices your uneasiness that his jackass friend caused and he immediately pulls you into a hug. he apologizes to you but you can only manage a meek nod of your head. 

“let’s go somewhere else.” he comforts you before you get off his lap and stand up with him to leave. your head is hanging low, staring at nothing but the floor. you can’t comprehend what you’re feeling right now. is it embarrassment? horror? anger? are you being set up? you can’t bring yourself to look at dabi in the eyes and you don’t want to be in his presence any longer. you’re already wishing for the ground to swallow you whole. you just want to leave. somewhere. anywhere. 

“leaving already? don’t want to introduce me to your friend?” keigo stops in his tracks before turning around to his friend with an eye roll. you, on the other hand, aren’t sure whether the question is directed at you or keigo but you can feel that dabi is intensely burning holes through you and it makes you want to puke. 

keigo wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer, “sorry. i don’t think she wants to know you, dude.” he sneers and walks away with you before dabi gets the chance to say anything. the last thing keigo wants is a fight with his friend right now. he’s the worst when he’s drunk, after all. 

“i’m sorry about my friend,” keigo apologizes again as he leads you to his car and opens the passenger’s door for you before walking around it and getting in the driver’s seat. “but that’s dabi for you. annoying fella.” he laughs and starts the engine. 

“it’s fine.” it isn’t – but you force a smile and you don’t want him to think that you’re weird-- you have to keep up and act normal. keigo sighs in relief and puts his hand on your thigh, rubbing it gently as he drives the whole way. from your understanding and the way he talks about him, keigo probably doesn’t know that you and dabi used to be a thing and you don’t plan on telling him much about your life either. it’s not a surprise since dabi was the one that wanted the relationship to be discreet – or in his book it’s called “lowkey” or “private”. it felt like he was hiding you from a part of his world.

thus, he barely (or most likely never, if he didn’t hold your hand on dates) showed you off and you had never met his family and friends. you were so in love with him so you tolerated, but the moment you started to bother him by asking why (or when you asked him to post your pictures together on his stories at least), he’d lose his shit. he said that he was not into those kind of stuffs and he hated and cringed when people showed off their partners excessively, so putting himself on the same level as them was the last thing he wanted-- until you found out the real reason: he was fucking around behind your back. 

and it didn’t happen once. it was hard but you forgave him the first time when he apologized. he said he was so sorry, he’d change and he couldn’t live without you, all those things you wanted to hear. you knew you had and wanted to give him a chance. you loved him but trust wasn’t something that was easy to build and you were always wary of him a couple of months after that. he found it ridiculous when you tried to check his phone so much, said that you were overreacting and it often broke into a fight. deep inside, you knew he was doing it again. you’d yell at each other and one of you would end up bruised after. later he’d say he was sorry for what he did, make up with hot sex, whisper sweet nothings to you and you would forgive him again – and the cycle repeated itself. in the end, there was never a proper closure but the day he took away all his belongings from your place, you both knew it was already over and none of you ever said anything since then. it was devastating but so liberating.

right now, you’re not sure where keigo is taking you and you don’t care because you’re just glad that you and him didn’t have to deal with your ex for too long back there. keigo tries to crack some jokes as he drives and keeps on recommending to you the songs that he currently likes by playing it on the radio. your mood lifts up gradually as you hear him sing and the thought of dabi slowly becomes a blur.

he brings you to his house (or mansion, by the size of it) and offers you a drink. he’s regretful that he couldn’t buy you a drink earlier since he ended up just making out with you before the whole dabi fiasco happened. so he brings out one of his expensive liquors for both of you before nuzzling on his sofa. after a light hearted conversation and a few sips of the alcohol, you’re quick to get drunk and giddy again. keigo softly caresses his hand up and down your thigh as you mumble nonsense but the lack of response from the male makes you turn your head to him and he’s already staring at you. it’s quiet for a few moments before both of your reddened faces inch closer and you impatiently crash your lips onto his. he hums into the kiss while his hands rub gently on your sides.

“not here.” he bites your lower lip and picks you up bridal style. you giggle as he brings you upstairs to his room before throwing you on his bed. keigo gets on top of you and kisses you hungrily, only pulling away to take off his shirt to reveal his toned body and goes back to kiss you again. his hands roam greedily all over your body as if you’ll be gone if he lets go before slipping one of his hands under your dress, feeling the wet pool already formed against the thin fabric. 

“oh?” he smirks, rubbing your wet slits with his fingers and watches you as you squirm under him. keigo immediately leans down between your legs and licks a wet strip through your panties. “i wanted to give payback for what you did, but i can’t wait anymore.” 

keigo pulls your panties to the side and starts to lap off your juices like a starved man, the aftertaste of the liquor he had earlier replaced by your flavor. your legs begin to tremble as his tongue expertly licks your clit and through your folds. keigo watches you between your thighs, your mouth gaping as you chant his name repetitively like a prayer while your hands clench on his soft pillow. 

“cum on my face, baby.” he soothes his erection against the mattress, grinding through the sheets as he focuses on making you orgasm. 

“oh, fuck – keigo!” you squeal as he slides in two fingers inside your sloppy cunt and the lewd sloshing sounds do nothing but make you and keigo even more aroused. you press your thighs together as you feel the coil inside you tighten up but his free hand pushes them apart from crushing his head. with a suck on the clit, he eventually pushes you over the edge and he grins proudly as you cum. he licks your juices off and hovers back up to you and kisses you again, making you taste yourself. 

“you taste so fucking good,” he whispers as he pulls the straps of your dress down to reveal your breasts before getting up to his knees to take off your panties and anything he has left, freeing his hard cock. “i’m gonna leave you with that on because you look so –” he smacks your thigh, “fucking hot in it. pretty sure you thought hard about wearing that dress.” he chuckles.

“happy to know it’s doing its job.” you giggle as you eagerly spread your legs again before him. god, alcohol really makes you forget every ounce of shame you’re supposed to have, doesn’t it? 

keigo gives his cock a few pumps with his hand before he leans forward to slide inside your soppy cunt and he hisses as the warmth engulfs him while you feel every vein against your tight walls. he slowly starts to move his hips when he hears you moan his name again before building up the pace. you wrap your legs around his waist and he leans closer to you, enabling you to hold him while he fucks harder. 

“fuck,” he groans. “you feel so good.” 

your nails are clawing his bare back, making him want to thrust into you faster. the quiet room now filled with moans, squelching sounds and skins slapping against each other. keigo nibbles on your neck while his hand reaches down to press and circle your neglected clit, quickly causing you to reach your climax.

“wanna cum!” you cry, the aftermath of your previous orgasm making you sensitive even more. 

“yeah? baby wants to cum on my cock?” 

“please, please, keigo!” you beg as your toe curls and the legs you have wrapped around him pushes him down and deeper into you. you can feel your walls tightening as he thrusts harder through the spongy walls and with a couple more circles on your clit, your eyes roll back as you come undone. keigo continues to fuck you and you can feel that he’s close by the way his cock twitches inside you before he shoots ropes of thick cum inside you. 

the both of you are left in a daze as you pant and keigo slowly pulls out his cock before laying next to you and pulls you close into his warm embrace. 

“you did so great, baby. oh, god.” he says between breaths as he caresses your hair and kisses your head. the silent ambience and the fact that the both of you are dead tired from the whole night eventually causes the both of you to fall asleep in each others’ arms instantly. 

you wake up suddenly and see that it’s still dark outside. you can only assume that it’s currently four to five in the morning and you turn to your side to see keigo is still sleeping peacefully next to you. you know it’s best to not stay around any longer, you’re not looking for a relationship though it’s a shame because telling by the way he treated you, this man is just amazing.

then again, you only know his name. worse, he’s a friend of your ex boyfriend and that’s just kind of fucked up in a lot of ways.

quietly getting off his bed, you put back on your panties and carefully open the door before walking back downstairs. the place is so huge but you manage to find your handbag from the sofa earlier and head straight outside before you can call the uber back to your apartment. surely you hope keigo doesn’t mind that you’re leaving him so suddenly. heck, you might even be doing him a favor. he was nice and thoughtful to you throughout the night but it’s really hard to put someone that’s been around dabi in your good graces now.

the elevator stops on your floor and you walk through the same, familiar hall while rummaging through your handbag to look for your keys through the receipts that you always reminded yourself to but forgot to throw out from your bag. the minute you lift up your head to watch where you’re going, you stop in your tracks as you see a man leaning against your door. a man that you thought you’re not going to see so soon and now you’re thinking that staying with keigo until the morning probably was the best idea. 

but it’s too late for that. he already notices you.

you can feel your blood boiling and your hands clenching into a fist. he’s wearing that stupid smirk that you’ve always used to adore – the same one that made you swoon once but now it only makes you want to punch him hard and break a tooth or two – if only you’re brave enough.

“the fuck you’re doing here?” you snarl at him with every ounce of bravery you still have inside you. you’re grateful that you don’t sound as meek as you expected to but seeing you like this amuses him even more. he had always liked it when you were all riled up until he thought that it was annoying and ‘had’ to get physical to shut you up.

dabi whistles, “mm, feisty.” 

you roll your eyes and ignore him as he steps away for you to open your door. you try to remain calm and stop your hand from shaking as you insert and twist the key through the keyhole so he won’t even get the hint that you’re shitting inside your pants right now. you quickly get inside your house once it’s unlocked and instantly push the door close, but to only have his foot to stop it from closing. you begin to panic and try to push the door harder while he tries to push the door back from the other side. 

“let me in.” he slurs as he leans down to meet you on eye level. the azure eyes that used to be captivating and mesmerizing are now dark and horrifying-- like when he used to look down at you condescendingly while your body was trembling on the floor.

“no! dabi! you’re drunk!” you scream as tears begin to prickle your eyes.

“don’t be like that. come on, i just wanna talk.” he says calmly with a smile, in an attempt to calm you down, though the smile doesn’t really reach his eyes and only scares you even more. you’re certain that he can see fear running through your eyes.

“fuck off!” you push the door with all the strength you have left. you’re not naive, you know that dabi is far stronger than you and you can only hope for a miracle to happen right now – for someone up there to suddenly grant you superhuman strength so you could shove the door right in his face or to just make dabi give up from pursuing you.

but you can only hope. there’s no such thing as super powers and you know damn well your ex boyfriend is not the type to easily give up on the things he wants. 

“let. me. in.” he threatens under his breath. “you don’t want to make me angry.” 

a wave of bitter flashbacks creeps into your mind again, as if seeing his face isn’t enough to remind you of the past you desperately want to forget. you feel your body tremble and grow weaker as you look at the monster outside your door again and when he feels the force from your side drops, dabi takes the opportunity to easily push back the door and invites himself in and makes sure to lock the door before turning to you.

your shaky legs weren’t enough to support you and caused you to tumble back when the door swung open. you look down to the floor as you shake and sob while dabi walks slowly towards you before kneeling down in front of you.

“baby, look at me.” he coos. 

your body stays frozen in place, your head suddenly weighs too heavy to lift itself up. you’re a sobbing mess and you don’t want him to see that. judging from the experience you’ve had with him, you know it’s wise to not make him repeat things twice so you slowly force yourself to look up at him to see his blue eyes already taunting you. dabi shushes you as you cry even harder when you face him and he gently strokes your hair to soothe you. his touch is far from comforting and it’s nothing like how keigo played with your hair earlier. 

“you missed me that much?” he chuckles as he wipes away your tears with his calloused thumbs. you’re too afraid, you can’t even muster any reaction no matter how much you want to, you can only weep in his hold. 

“i know i was happy when i saw you,” his lips curl into a grin before it swiftly turns into an unpleasant scowl as he replays the scene inside his head. “until you decided to whore out for my friend. right. in. my. fucking. face.”  

you quickly shake your head to deny his accusation. well, it’s true that he’s friends with keigo but how could you have known? you couldn’t even see him when a girl was literally sucking off his face when you came up to their table! let alone the fact he never introduced you to his friends while you were together!

“n-no– i didn’t know–” 

an abrupt loud pang echoes throughout the room. it was so quick but now, somehow, you suddenly feel a stinging pain on your cheek. your eyes widen as your palm reaches for the burn on your skin, as if to reaffirm yourself that yes, you just got slapped by dabi. again.

“you don’t get to talk back.” he scoffs as he looks at you in irritation. 

your fear turns to anger and it suddenly gives you courage to defend yourself. you start to wail again and push his body away from you, to make an effort for him to walk out the door – to go away. you keep on pushing his chest and his hands whenever he tries to grab a hold of you. you’re aware that you look and sound hysteric but you just want him out. out of your house, out of your life forever. 

of course, it’s a pathetic display to dabi. he went through this with you before, you’d never win against him and it would never make the slightest change. he’s two times your size, a little push won’t budge him. it only annoys him more. 

dabi easily grabs your wrists with one of his hands while his other free hand grabs you by the hair from the back of your head, yanking your head to tilt upwards. understanding that this is your utter defeat, you can only manage to sob helplessly again. 

“you didn’t know?” he growls. “you did it just to spite me, didn’t you?” 

you try to shake your head no, but the stinging pain from your scalp won’t allow you. 

“did you fuck him?” 

you don’t answer, not even a nod or a shake of your head as you only continue crying. 

“did you,” he clutches harder and causes you to wail louder, “or did you not?” 

you’re convinced anyone can hear you through the wall but what are the chances for your neighbors to actually want to get involved this early in the morning? especially when they’re the type to only mind their own business.

“fuck. you did.” he sees the distinctive bruise on your neck and finally pushes you free from his grasps – as if the sight of it makes him feel disgusted that another man had already fucked you. but it’s okay! he can turn that around and make it right. “you’re gonna make up for me, yeah?” 

you swallow hard as you look at him, unsure if you can speak so you carefully manage a timid whisper, “wh-what do you mean?” 

dabi's lips tug into a smirk. he’s glad you asked. 

“i’m gonna fuck you and you’re gonna take it. i’m gonna make you forget about that asshole.” 

you shake your head no and start to crawl away but dabi is quick to grab and pull you back to him. if you had a book about yourself, he already finished reading it. he knows you like the back of his hand by now and you both know that.

dabi positions you on your knees, cheek rests on the hard, wooden floor so you can directly stare at the wall and pushes your back down into a desirable arch that gives the best view of your ass for him. when you try to wriggle out from his rough grasps on your hips, he gives a hard slap on your ass.

“doll, it won’t hurt if you behave.” he chuckles darkly as he pulls his pants along with his briefs down to his knees before pushing the hem of your dress up to your waist, revealing the panties that were peeking in front of him earlier.

“dabi, please. don’t do this.” you glance back towards him pleadingly but he only snickers in amusement.

“shh, i’ll be gentle this time.” he takes off the flimsy fabric down to your knees before rubbing your clit in circles with his thumb and he continues doing so until he feels a wet slick slowly starting to drool from your cunt. with a stroke of his tongue, he laps off your juices and hums at the taste that fills his buds. oh how he missed it, how he always adored how you tasted in his mouth. 

you bite your lip to suppress any whimpers when his warm tongue glides on your throbbing clit ravenously. it shouldn’t feel good, but it does. you keep reminding how much you hate him and the millions of reasons why but god, he’s so good, it’s leaving your mind in a haze. he still remembers where and how to make you ache for him. unlike him with other girls, he memorized every inch of your body because you’re just that special to him.

dabi glances at you to see how your brows are already knitted together as you close your eyes shut and your lips pressing into a thin line to try not to entertain him with any sort of reaction. it’s so endearing. 

dabi pulls away and slaps your ass, “you like that, doll?” 

you keep quiet and refuse to look at him but he is quick to draw your attention to him as he rubs the tip of his cock along your sloppy folds, coating his cock with your slick and nudges on your clit with his tip while your body trembles underneath him. he spits on your cunt before he presses the tip of his cock in, causing you to gasp at his thick girth. 

“so fucking –” he grunts as he pushes inside through your walls, “tight.” 

you whimper as you feel him stretch you out but once you quickly get used to it, you subconsciously buck your hips closer to him to take him more. dabi chuckles in amusement when he sees how you easily give in and stroke his ego by submitting yourself to him. he knows he could never be replaced. he knows how your tight cunt still remembers how his cock felt inside you.

he groans in deeply as he starts to thrust his cock in and out of you before picking up into a much brutal pace and your nails start to claw and dig the plain floor, “t-too much, dabi!” 

your cries fall into deaf ears as he drowns himself into his own pleasure while you try your best to take him in until you’re quick to acclimatize to his rhythm and you start to mindlessly slip out moans after moans from your lips in a sinful chant. 

dabi smirks arrogantly as he watches you becoming a mess for him and he leans down closer, causing the tip of his cock to hit your cervix each time he rams inside. “bet he didn’t fuck you this good, hmm? bet you were– fuck– thinking of my cock instead.” 

your mind is hazy as you’re succumbed into your carnal desire, already fucked dumb by his thick cock to even build coherent sentences so a few single ‘yes’ are the only thing you can manage to say. 

“you’re clamping down on me baby,” he laughs. “gonna cum in this tight cunt, yeah?” 

his words send a jolt of electricity down to your core and your breath begins to hitch as you’re able to feel your third orgasm for the night begin to wash over your body. dabi realizes this as he feels your body shaking under him and your walls contracting around his cock. he takes this chance to slow down his pace so he can hear you beg for him. he wants to be reminded that only he can make you feel this good. not his friend keigo, no one. 

“w-wanna cum!” you whine in desperation as your hips buck to meet his thrusts. 

“yeah? say my name.” he taunts. to be calling for his name in a situation like this is humiliating enough and he lives for this moment. he loves how he’s able to turn you into a dumb, drooling mess for his cock and itching for a release.

“d-dabi, please.”

“whose fucking pussy is this?” he gives a deep thrust as he emphasizes the word, making you yelp in surprise. 

“y-yours!” 

“you’re goddamn right.” he continues to pound into your tight cunt relentlessly before his hand reaches to press down and rub your clit with his thumb, just enough to make you see stars and lips part in a silent scream as you finally come undone. 

dabi groans as he feels your walls clamping around his cock, his nails already forming red, crescent shapes as he continues to chase after his own orgasm. 

“fuck– i’m gonna fill up this pussy.” his thrusts begin to stutter as he feels his climax washes through him and his cock twitches inside you before he releases hot cum inside you. 

dabi’s grins proudly as he watches your limp body slumped down against the floor as he pulls out his cock. he makes sure to put back the dripping cum inside your cunt with his finger, making you shriek weakly from overstimulation. 

the both of you say nothing as he picks you up and takes you to your room. both are too drained for any further arguments and he’s glad that you’re not trying to make a fuss anymore. he puts you on your bed and you swiftly turn to your side before feeling the bed dips behind you as he puts his weight down on it. 

dabi wraps his arm around you and presses your back to his chest. you went through so much tonight, you can’t even bother to cry anymore and you’re too numb to process all your feelings right now. you don’t know what will happen tomorrow instead you wish it won’t come at all. 

“we’ll start over.” a faint voice suddenly cracks the silent room.

you want to laugh. with your clouded mind, you can’t make up whether it’s dabi who just said it or is it only a voice in your mind that subconsciously replays the same damn sentences that you heard way too often after each time you were laid bruised and limp on the bed, in the exact same position as you and dabi are now. nonetheless, you remain still and ignore it as your eyelids start to feel too heavy to keep your eyes open and your vision fades into darkness, despite the warm orange morning glow looming in the corner of the room as the sun begins to rise. 

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[spookysmujer]

Maraschino pt.2, O. Diaz

Summary: After the rejection from Oscar, things seems to take you on a roller coaster ride. 

warnings: angst, f e e l s, theTEAbeenSPILLED ☕️ daddy issues

word count: 3.5K

a/n: Here is the highly requested part 2 of Maraschino! I had fun writing this though if it is trash it’s because I wanted to hurry and get it out for y’all since I been getting msgs. heh. But Ray? Whew chile, the ghetto! Part 3? Please enjoy and don’t forget: follow the blog, heart/comment/reblog the content as well as turn on the notifs! (Y/S/N: your sister’s name)

(gif belongs to @thesewickedhands​ ✨)

 “Have a wonderful day!”

God, why is the person yelling? You smile weakly and squeeze your eyes nearly shut as the sun is blazing down on you while you say your thanks and exit the uber. The throbbing of your head and the loud lawnmower from one of your neighbors has you internally cursing.

How did you end up like this? Granted this was the plan last night to go out and have a good time, you certainly did not expect to be doing such a thing. You never let yourself get to this point before. But you also never got denied like you did with Spooky last night. A shiver goes through your body as you think of him. You won’t let him infiltrate your mind no more.

“Y/N!” Your sister’s voice sounds frantically as you round the corner of the house.

Well there goes your plan to sneak in through your window to pretend you were in your room all along. She wraps your arms around you, gluing herself to your body causing you to stumble back a bit. “You are a dead woman walking!” She whispers to you as you arch an eyebrow at her. 

As confused as you were, José appears from around the corner taking long strides towards you. His face sports no emotion of missing you but a lot of anger. It causes you to automatically back up the closer his approaches you. Your sister has since removed herself from you as your brother is now in your face.

You blink as you peer up at him, “Where the fuck have you been, hermana? You know how much shit you are in, hm? I get a call from Y/S/N saying you aren’t home. I assure her you would be and when she calls me at 6 in the morning telling me that you still aren’t in? You left a note?”

“José! Calmate, I went out with a friend. And I spent the night. What’s the big deal about that?” You briefly explain yourself. He laughs for a moment before grabbing you by your upper arm and pulling you towards your sister. Now it’s her turn to start backing up, “Ven aqui, her! That’s the big deal. When I ask you to be the sister you need to be, I don’t mean when you feel like it. You know the Santos have been getting into heavy shit lately. I need you here when I’m not!” 

The tension is thick as you pull your arm from his hold and push him, “But when you wanna go and do whatever it’s okay? When you wanna hitch a ride with Spooky to Sin City with dirty ass hynas last week, it’s all good. Business trip, huh? Don’t come for me when you are far from perfect!” 

The two of you are both very stubborn with your brother usually being calm and collected while you’re more expressive with your feelings. Family is important to him especially considering it’s just the three of you. Jose scoffs as you stomp away from him and your now crying sister. 

Oscar suddenly appears in front of you as round the corner and collides with his body. He reaches out to grasp you before you can stumble back, the feelings hitting you all at once, “What are you doing here?” You swallow thickly.

He licks his bottom lip as his eyes rake over your body. Still in your dress from last night, hair unruly and make-up smudged. Anyone can spot a ‘walk of shame’ when they see one. He laughs internally thinking of how you wasted no time after last night’s rejection.

“I offered to drive him when little hermanita called up again worried you weren’t home yet. Seems we know why now.” A small grin painted across his lips, you squint your eyebrows at his words as you hear your brother approaching the two of you. You step back before Spooky migrates his eyes to behind you, “We got business, everything good here?”

José nods and steps beside you, “Don’t be leaving.”

The two guys leave as you stand there a bit dumbfounded. Y/S/N appears next to you and grabs your hand. She apologizes for you getting into trouble with José. You want to yell at her for starting unnecessary drama. But she explains she didn’t want your brother to potentially find out about your little sneaky link with Spooky.

“Well, he and I ended that shit so nothing to worry about. I went out and got wasted. I am done with these guys. No más!” Though even sounding like fake news to yourself, you go and wash off last night’s memories. 

As the day had gone by, you skimmed through your daily journal of all the entries you wrote about Oscar ‘Spooky’ Diaz, ripping them out. All 6 pages. You roll your eyes at your thoughts about him, some sappy and some nasty. How did you believe a man who runs a street gang, that is as mean mugging as Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street, would be into you the way you are him?

It didn’t matter the answer now. Good riddance of him! That’s when the sound of your window opening pulls you from the wandering thoughts. You stand up quickly, reaching for a bat that’s besides your bed. “Get the fuck out!”

“Calmate! It’s me, Oscar.”

You clutch your chest, doubling over to catch your breath. “What is wrong with you? Ever think of flying a pebble at the window or calling first?” You say as he climbs in, adjusting his flannel before closing the window then your room door. You watch him as he starts to look around your room. Though there’s a part of you that wants him out, you haven’t made any advances to get him out.

He sits on your bed and finally looks at you, “Abajo.”

Uncompliant, you cross your arms and shift your weight to make it known you are fine standing there. He smirks and looks away before locking eyes with you. “You don’t think I like you too? You think I fucked with you for this long cause it was just convenient? Girls everywhere around my place but I was only fucking you. Why do you think that?”

“Is this supposed to be your sweet confession that makes me go all heart eyes? You're gonna apologize and I’m supposed to forgive you and then we give us a try and realize all our worries were nothing but fear that our anxiety instilled in our heads? Because that’s not how it’s gonna go.” You say as he gives you a semi-disgusted look.

You chuckle softly and watch him intently.

Oscar analyzes you closely. It’s a front, no doubt he thinks. He doesn’t deny the thought that you are a thick-skinned woman. He knows you have a superior mind and a mouth to go with it but he knows there is no way that you could’ve gotten over him that quick. Though judging by your appearance earlier in the day, you definitely tried.

You laugh a little more as you step in front of him and lean over to get your vision in line with his. “You made it clear to me and now I’m making it clear. Nothing you say will convince me that you give a rat’s ass about me. If you really did? There would be no sneaky link shit. You wouldn’t have a problem with people knowing about me, or my brother knowing but it is a problem so get out.”

This ticks Ocscar off a bit. He stands which makes you straighten up as he gets in your face, stepping towards you. You are stepping back slowly as he creeps more, “You think you can handle this lifestyle? The constant threats, the territories? You can’t. When it comes to this kind of life, something like love can be the bane of your existence. So we don’t get into it. We don’t get involved because the people we fall for end up dead.”

You’re pressed with your back against the wall and your chests against each other. Oscar’s eyebrows are connected and he’s staring at your agape mouth. His breath is fanning against your lips, emotions hitting you all at once. “I-I slept with someone last night. Got it good too.”

The jealous tactic seems to fail immediately as Oscar laughs. And for some reason the look of amusement on his face seems to be familiar for a reason you can’t seem to figure out.

“Sleeping around is simple, falling for someone is something else entirely. I’m not saying that we jump into something. But at least you know now it’s not just one-sided.” He steps out of your room. You follow and watch him walk down the hall as Y/S/N stands there. She is stunned seeing Oscar nonchalantly trek through the house.

You don’t know what to say. As you look at your little sister, you sigh in defeat trying to explain this one. Instead you go back into your room and shut your door. You got what you wanted, right? But you still feel like something is missing. 

The week had slowly crept on.

A few shifts at the bodega, classes at the community college and life at home. Jose had basically converted you back to your teenage ways. Making sure you were doing your part in parenting your little sister. Friday night Y/S/N wanted to have Dwayne’s BBQ for dinner and since your social life is drier than your skin, you agree. 

The thought of a  BBQ bacon cheeseburger lifts your mood which has been dragging throughout the week. Your sister happily skips into the restaurant as you trail behind slowly, when you enter you look for her and see she chatting up with Dwayne. 

“Y/N!” José calls out and your vision unfocuses from them onto your brother and pile of Santos in a booth. They all look your way including Oscar. You exhale a deep breath through your nose as you put on a fake smile and wave before stepping up to place an order. 

 Your brother approaches you as you look past him to the booth of Santos, “Didn’t know you guys would be here.” He sets down a $20 bill on the counter when the cashier tells you the total. “Foos gotta eat too.” José starts talking to you about something but your focus falls back on Spooky again. You watch as he stands and makes his way towards you. A small panic sets in your chest but fades away as he ends up exiting the BBQ joint. 

Unknowingly to yourself, your watch as he walks to his car. He leans against it and pulls out a cigarette, no matter how hard you try to avert your eyes from him, you can’t. All week you had been doing fine. Even with the little things reminding you of him, even with the memories that have been seeped into your bed. You didn’t dwell too much on thinking of him until you see him now. 

“Talk to him.” 

It’s just like the movies where the car tires come to a screeching halt and there’s the obnoxious crashing sound. You move your eyes to your brother’s. Did he just say what you think he said? “Talk to him? Spooky, what for? Why would I need to talk to him?”

Jose chuckles, “Hermana, I had my suspicions about you two. Then he told me bout it, he acts like it doesn’t bother him much but it does so go talk to him. Yeah, I’m not so thrilled that he’s messing around with my baby sister. I know how he is but I know he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you so I’m cool with it. So go talk to him, figure that shit out because I’m getting over you moping around the house.”

You push him away as you look back to the red impala.  After a moment of contemplating it, you decide to head out and approach Oscar, he had his eyes on you since he settled by his car. You lean on it besides him and cross your arms, “You told my brother?”

He smirks and shrugs his shoulders. You try your best to keep the smug look off your face. He holds out the cigarette, you take it and inhale. Coughing a bit as the smoke burns your throat a little. You hand it back and sigh, turning to look at him.

“I like you, you like me. I’m not saying we jump into something… but why not?” You question as he exhales some smoke, you lock your eyes into his, “You ain’t cut for this lifestyle, you would be a liability. Plus your brother in my line of work? That makes him vulnerable as well. It woul--”

You groan loudly which quiets him mid-rant, “Drugs, alcohol and money do all the same things to him too. You see how he is when he gets wasted. There are so many things that make you all vulnerable. If he can make it work with the hyna he’s with, then you can make it work with me. Plus I know this lifestyle more than you think. I know when and where to be and not to be. I know who to know and who not to know. I know things! So don’t act all big bad Spooky to me.”

Now standing directly in front of him and he’s peering down at you. He dips his face lowers and looks at your lips as you look at his. In no time your lips are connected. Oscar slides his hands over your waist, gripping it and pushing you flush against him. You bring your hands to cup his face, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. A full on make-out session breaks out.

As if you didn’t dream of something like this happening you smile into the kiss, pulling away, “You get into this with me, it’s not gonna be glitter and gold. This shit is tough, I can’t be worrying about the things I already do plus you.” You nod and kiss him again, wringing your arms around his neck, he hugs you and feels calm for the first time in a while.

So you enjoy the night more than you thought you would be. With your siblings and the Santos at Dwayne’s. After a night of chatting, Oscar asks you to come back to his place. And well since it isn’t your first rodeo, you agree and send Y/S/N home with José. 

You don’t keep your hands off him while heading back to his place, you are pressed against him and kissing his neck, he is loving every moment of it. The both of you get out to head into the house but the mood is killed when you walk in to find Cesar and his friends on the couch who get frightened due to the scary movie playing on the TV.

Oscar cursing under his breath, “Can’t you watch movies at some else’s house?” You elbow him as he rolls his eyes. But Cesar didn’t want to start anything with his older brother so he asks Jamal if they can continue watching at his house. Soon after the house is empty and quiet again. The two of you settle on the couch, you straddling him and pulling your top off.

“Yo! There’s someone posted up outside!” Cesar suddenly bursts through the door which causes Oscar to push you off him and reach for his gun. He tells the younger Diaz, his friends and you to stay put as he checks out the fool that runs up on the Santo trap house. You scramble to put your shirt back on and curse when Cesar trails after his brother. You follow in pursuit, trying to tell Cesar that Oscar said to stay inside. “Who is that?” 

“Ray?” You say out loud though you thought you were just thinking it.

Oscar turns to you when you say the name of none other than his estranged father. You look to both Ray and Oscar, looking at the two men and making the connection. You feel the color get sucked out of your face, oh fuck.

“You know him, who is he?” Cesar asks you and he looks at Oscar. The Santo leader has his eyes on you and is still confused as to how the hell you know his father. “He’s our father.” Oscar says, still looking at you.

The confirmation makes you want to be obliterated right in your very spot. This can’t be happening! Is it? You try to speak but nothing comes out of your mouth. You finally look to Ray who has a small smirk on his face and that’s why that look Oscar had on his face that day seemed so familiar. You saw it that night you went out of town to have a good time. 

“Hola de nuevo, pequeña coyote.” Ray says looking at you. 

You grimace as Oscar connects the dots himself. The amount of heat that settles into your face along with the gasps from Cesar’s friends don’t make it any easier to bear.

“Wait Oscar, wait!” He is stepping towards his father, ready to charge. “I didn’t know he was your dad! Listen to me, please!” You step forward quickly and pull his arm back, he yanks it out of your grasp quickly as you plead for him to listen to you.

Oscar begins to snap at you, “Him? This is who you slept with and you want me to listen to explain? Huh?!” The anger booms in his voice as he is mere inches from your face. Cesar appears next to you trying to get between the two of you. You didn’t think Oscar could ever get so mad. And you have seen the Santo leader in moments of rage before. 

“Mijo, listen..” 

Ray’s voice sounds from behind Oscar now. He turns and wastes no time in welcoming him with a right hook. His father stumbles back as you gasp along with the sounds from the teens. “Oscar!”

You take the initiative to stand between the two of them, holding out a hand against Oscar’s chest as he is heaving and exuding anger. Ray is mending to his jaw as he stands up. You notice the lights of the neighbor had turned on and people were beginning to pile outside of their homes to see all the commotion.

“Oscar just stop and listen to me for one fucking second! No, I did not sleep with Ray. We did get together that night, yes but we didn’t do anything that involves other body parts. I started going off about you with him, I vented and we spent the night drinking. I got too wasted and he offered to let me spend the night in his motel room. Nothing happened!” You release in one breath. 

Everyone looks at you, unable to make sense of the situation. 

“That’s why I came, when she mentioned things about you, I had to come see for myself if what niña said is true. That you’re running the Santos.” The two men stare at each other as you stand in the middle. Your heart is racing. 

Oscar doesn’t say anything as he looks back and forth between his father and you. When you step towards him and reach out to grab his hand, he raises his hand up in defense and steps back. You can see the glint of hurt in his eyes as he backs away from you. Your eyes pleading for him to try to understand everything.

You trail behind a fuming Oscar into his house, you are nearly jogging when you catch up with him. But he steps into his room and slams the door in your face. You step back and sigh. “Please talk to me…Oscar. Nothing happened, you have to believe me.” 

He doesn’t respond as you rest your head on his door. You hold your hands on the door silently cursing yourself. What could you say that made the situation sound better? How could you make it look like it really was nothing even with Ray right there?

A few moments have passed by when the door opens, a still very upset Oscar stands there as he flies forwards a bunch of crumbled paper at you. You watch as the papers fall to your feet and he slams the door in your face again. No context of nothing. 

When you pick up the papers, it’s drawings of you. Portraits sketched out from a ballpoint pen. Some dated as far back as a month ago to as recent as a few days ago. Oscar drew you. He did so multiple times and in such craft it takes your breath away. 

You feel the tears begin to well in your eyes. The pain that you have caused him. How do you fix this?

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss@princesstiffxoxo@firebenderwolf @spookysnena @mbaku-babygirl @chellybear98@multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc@roury66 @kkim120 @lillict @tinylumpiaa @prettymya3@starrynite7114 @onmyspookysblock @aneitii @b3mybunnybaby  @angelxfics  @spookysbabymama @ladylj @vayagrxce @irenne-stans @boujee-bitches (please let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

[itsstrange]

Coffee Run & Green Eyes

Series: Spark Between Us

Relationship: Jensen Ackles x Skyline McNoir (OFC)

A/N: Hey everyone! I know it’s been a long time and I apologize for those waiting for more stories, but if you follow me on IG then you would know that this last week I was struck with a stomach flu which caused me to not have enough energy for various things. Luckily, I’ve recovered and feel much better. I also want to apologize to those who have requested me some stories, don’t worry I have Not forgotten about you! Just been dealing with some things!

But!! To not keep you guys in the dark I decided to post a Series I wrote for Ao3 on here, just to give y’all something to read meanwhile I work on some other works for y’all!! Hope y’all enjoy it!

Another thing, we have hit 105 followers y’all!!!! Thank you so much for all the love y’all continue in giving me!! I appreciate it so much!! 🥲💚

✨{Credits to owner for the gif}✨

Summary: Skyline McNoir tags along with a few friends who are attending a convention of some show she’s never watched. Little did she know, she would fall head over heels for the lead actor.

Word Count: 2.4 K

Warnings: Will contain Fluff, public sex, alcohol consumption, public fingering, just pure NSFW for all you Jensen fans out there 😊

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ENJOY!!

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The blasting chorus of Follow Me Now by Jason Gleed, wakes Skyline up. Her Hazel eyes glare straight ahead at the coconut cream wall for a few seconds before bringing the cover above her head, trying to muffled the music. Which didn’t help. At all. Then to make the morning less fun, her bed begins to shake violently by her best friend who’s jumping up down awhile singing at the top of her lungs. Skyline groans into the covers and tries to bury herself deeper into the warmth, but before she can even hide, the covers are being shoved off her form. A shiver runs throughout her body from the coldness in the room.

“C’mon Sky! Today’s the day!” Erin yells as she hovers above,

Skyline groans once again, eyes closed shut when it’s far too bright in the room “Five more minutes,”

“No come on,” Erin says, slightly pushing Sky’s body with her foot, “Tiffany and Laila are already downstairs grabbing breakfast,”

Still not moving, Erin shoves her body once again with her foot, when that didn’t do the trick an evil smirk spreads on her face. Grabbing an unused pillow, she raises it above her head before roughly slamming it against Sky’s head, causing her to jerk upright. With sleep still in her eyes, Sky is only able to squint at her best friend.

“Erin! What the fu-,” Her words were cut off when a large pillow smacks her in the face,

Erin chuckles at her, ignoring the death stare as she hops off her bed, “Chop chop.. we got a busy day today!”

With a roll of her eyes and a loud groan, Sky rolls off the comforter and towards the bathroom. After taking care of her regular morning routines, she hops in the shower. Erin’s music still blasted through the speakers, as Sky took a quick shower and she honestly hoped none of their neighbors complained about their disturbance, she knew she would have if she was trying to get a few more hours of shut eye.

That’s all she ever really wanted at the moment, sleep. After months of studying, exams, piles upon piles of work, and busting all nighters she was finally in winter break. The feeling of being able to come home for the holidays and spending those days with her family sounded amazing and relaxing. However, after the second day of being home, she gets a call from Erin. Mentioning something about having another extra ticket for a convention to meet the cast of some show she’s never watched. She kindly declined the offer, wanting to spend her days off with her family sounded like a much better idea than meeting unknown actors. However, Sky often forgets Erin is not the type to take no for an answer and demanded her to hand the phone over to her mother.

Thinking her mother would defend her and find a way to convince Erin to try and find someone else to take to the convention, Sky hands the phone over to her mother. You can only imagine who won that argument.

Once out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her body, Sky heads out the bathroom and towards her duffel bag. In the winter season of Austin, Texas, she decides on a plain long sleeve, black jeans, grey hoodie, black boots on her feet with a leather jacket on top. Once her hair is made and adds a couple splashes of makeup on her face, she grabs her phone and book from the small counter as she follows Erin out the room. After a few minutes later, they finally arrive in the breakfast buffet where Tiffany and Laila are already stuffing themselves with waffles and eggs. With a yawn, Sky makes her way over to the buffet with Erin right behind her. Once they both get their plates and sit down on the table, they dig in before getting on with their day.

****

8:45 am

“Oh my god!! I just hugged Speight!!” The sound of Laila coming around the corner interrupts Sky from her book,

The sight of Laila bouncing up and down on her feet with a wide grin makes a small chuckle escape from Skyline. As her friends beamed over this Speight guy, Sky returns her focus down on her book. Not really paying much attention at their excitement, but still having a smile on her lips as she reads the next chapter in her book. Even if she’s not having the same excitement as her friends, she is still having fun with them. Being around them in general for whatever reason always brightens her day. No matter how rough of a day she’s seems to be having, her girls always know just how to distract her and make her have fun.

“Ohh it’s almost time for Osric’s panel,” Tiffany says while looking down at her phone,

No longer able to focus on her book, Sky marks her spot before getting up from the floor.

“You guys go in, I’ve got auto’s for Kim at nine,”

It’s barely nine in the morning? Jesus. Sky thinks to herself, the day has felt extremely long she could have sworn it was already noon.

“Okay, let’s go Sky,” Laila motions her head to the side for her to follow,

“If you guys want me to continue tagging along, I’m gonna need an espresso,” Sky states, feeling yet another yawn creeping up her throat,

Her friends chuckle at her but agreed with her idea. They wouldn’t want her dragging her feet all over the convention, besides, coffee did sound like a great idea. Once writing down their preferred drinks in her notes, Sky leaves through the doors, down the steps and towards a coffee shop not too far away. It was only a couple blocks away, she should make it back in no time. Hugging her jacket closer to her body when the wind picks up, Sky quickens her movements to avoid its freezing weather but careful to not slip on the wet pavement. The last thing she needs is to fall flat on her ass, better yet get a concussion or go back home with a broken wrist.

Boy would her mom faint if she saw her daughter in a cast. Will most likely give her a lecture on why it’s important not to be on the phone during the most worst seasons. ‘If you weren’t on the phone this wouldn’t have happened Skyline’. Yep. She can definitely hear her ranting.

After a few blocks in the harsh winds, Skyline is finally reaching the small little coffee joint. Just as she reaches for the handle of the door, another, large, hand reaches at the same time. Thick fingers slightly touching her own, making her pull back with an apology.

“No it’s fine go ahead,” A deep voice says beside her, letting a shiver run down her body,

Most likely from the weather, what else would it be?

She looks up at the man. Dark beard, shades on his face, black hat on his head, with a black T-Shirt underneath a checkered navy flannel and black Levi’s jacket. Even under the dark shades she can tell he was good looking, handsome in fact.

“No you can go ahead,” Sky smiles at the man, stepping aside for him to enter,

He only shakes his head, gripping the door handle as he opens it for her, “Please I insist, my mom would throw a fit if she finds out I didn’t show my manners,”

Sky chuckles at him, “Well we wouldn’t want that now,”

The man chuckles back, smile forming on his lips. Man did that smile just make her stomach flip.

“No, we really wouldn’t,” Chuckling once more at him she accepts the offer with a thanks before entering the coffee shop,

As she walks inside, the change of temperature immediately hits her cold cheeks. Almost as if a heating furnace was suddenly shoved in her face, but she wasn’t complaining, the warmth was needed. Walking further into the coffee shop, she takes a glance over her shoulder to see if the man was behind her, but only lets a smile appear when she catches the moment of him allowing an elderly couple enter before him.

That’s sweet. She thinks to herself as she walks up to the counter. Once her drinks have been ordered and paid, she heads over to a small empty table near the window. Sitting on the chair she pulls out her book and continues where she left off as she waits for her drinks. A few minutes had passed and Sky was too engrossed in her book to notice her name being called out by the barista. Eventually though, she comes back to reality when someone places her drink in front her. Looking up from her book she meets eyes with bright emerald orbs, and noticing those breathtaking eyes belong to the same man from the door.

“I’m guessing your Skyline?,” The way her name rolls off his deep voice sends a shiver down her spine,

Definitely can’t be the air this time, absolutely not.

Eyeing the cup of coffee in front of her, she lifts a eyebrow at the man, teasing him. Even if she sees her name written on the side of the cup.

“And what makes you think that?” The way his lips slightly lift causes something to flip in her stomach,

Again.

“Well.. seeing how there’s hardly folks in here,” He looks around the shop for a few seconds before landing his eyes on hers again, “and you being the only one sitting down without a coffee.. I took a guess,”

Sky hums with a smile as she takes the cup, “Nice deduction,”

He shrugs a shoulder with a smile, “This seat taken?”

Sky shakes her head as she takes careful sips from her drink. With a small smile the man pulls out the chair with his other free hand, seeing how he has a cup of his own in one hand.

“I’m Ross by the way,” The man extends a hand once seated,

With a smile Sky accepts his hand, feeling it warm and rough as it wraps around her own.

“Nice to meet you,” Still smiling she pulls away from his firm hand,

“You around from here or just passing through?” He asks, taking careful sips from his cup,

Sky softly smiles at him as she wraps her hands around her coffee, trying to warm up her fingers.

“Born and raised,” He raises a brow at the small fact,

“No kidding?”

She nods, “Yeah but I’m just home for the holidays,”

He hums with a nod, “In the army or something?”

Sky couldn’t help the chuckle that escapes from her, definitely noticing how the corner of the mans lips slightly lift as well.

“More like college. My last year,”

“Really? What’re you studying?” He asks, taking another sip, never letting his eyes drift from her Hazel ones,

But does notice how they dart down towards his mouth before quickly looking back up to his eyes. A small smirk hides behind the cup, but doesn’t hide it when he pulls it away from his face.

“Biology,” He hums once again with a sincere smile, making her stomach flip,

It was such an odd feeling, especially when it was coming directly from a man she hardly knows. But for some reason, it felt right. Their conversations switched from topic to topic, never faltering. It just felt right, as if they were long time friends catching up with each other instead of two strangers who just met. Eventually, their conversation was cut short with the barista calling out her name once again with the rest of her drinks.

Getting up from her seat she walks over to the counter where her drinks waited. As she grabbed a cup holder and begins placing her drinks in each space, Ross, settles next to her. Getting a whiff of his cologne. Leaning on the counter he had both his and her coffee in either hand, which he hands over with a smile once all coffees were safely secured in place.

“I should get going,” She smiles up at his green orbs, and only then noticing how freckles are splashed on his face,

This man was literally dashing, no doubt about it.

“Yeah same here,” He says looking down at his watch, “Need a ride?”

She shakes her head with a smile, “I’m good thanks,”

“You sure? Heard it might rain,” He continues to lean on the counter as she places her coffee in an empty slot of the holder,

“I’m sure, it’s just a few blocks from here,”

“Well it can rain from those few blocks,” He argues as he gives her a smile, not wanting to end their little moment,

Neither did she, but she had friends waiting and the moment she tells them the reason why she took a little longer than expected, they wouldn’t leave her alone until she gives them the whole shebang.

She lets a small chuckle escape her lips as she picks up the coffees, “I’ll make a run for it,”

He softly chuckles at her comment, green eyes staring straight into her Hazel orbs that have slightly turned grey from her sweater. Definitely finding her and her eyes fascinating and beautiful.

“It was nice meeting you Ross,” She smiles at him as she walks away,

He smiles as he watches her, sending her a wave goodbye when she looks over her shoulder before walking out the door. Watching her leave didn’t feel like a loss, it felt the complete opposite actually. Why? Well for starters, he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he saw her considering she had the all too familiar Creation Entertainment wristband on her left hand. Also, he had her book inside his jacket, another reason on why he would see her again.

Both to retrieve her book and to have a reason to see her again. Don’t get him wrong, he was actually going to give it to her before she left, but the thought of holding it and having a reason to see her again sounded like great idea. He wanted to see her again, wanted to have a conversation longer than 10 minutes and just wanted to get to know her. She was different, in a good way, absolutely in a good way. The way she seemed to not know him or maybe she did but simply did not care made him feel relaxed, made him feel somewhat normal and he would give anything to feel that way again.

Even if it meant “stealing” her book to have an excuse to see her again.

PART 2

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-Hope y’all enjoyed this first part of the series!! Stay tuned for random updates for ‘Spark Between Us’ I won’t give an announcement on when I’ll update it so keep your eyes peeled on it!!

-Turn on Post Notifications!! 🔔 For more!!

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