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writeforfandoms · 3 years ago

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Merry Go Round of Life 7

Find my masterlist

Here we are. Chapter 7. Stuff is happening, we’re getting to see more of plotty stuff. We’re still nowhere near the end, I have Plans still, but!

This will be Din Djarin x f!reader eventually. Don’t hold your breath folks, this one’s a slow burn. Sort of.

Warnings: Some mild violence. Some magic.

Taglist: @tibbietibbs @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @shoopidly @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @zinzinina @beskarprincessjenny

In which there is some adventuring

“Now?” you asked, surprised. It wasn’t late, there was still sunlight out, but it wasn’t going to be light for much longer.

“Now,” Djarin confirmed, sweeping over to his work area and starting to gather things up.

A bit perplexed, you picked up the kid and shrugged at Peli. Well, if the wizard said so, it looked like you were going with him. He wouldn’t take the kid anywhere dangerous, which likely meant that, by extension, you’d be fine.

Djarin nodded when you walked back over to him, and he opened the door again and ushered you out first. You stepped down into the sand, taking a moment to adjust. It was slippery under your feet, softer than you were used to feeling. It was a very curious feeling, but not altogether unpleasant.

“I’m Cobb Vanth,” the silver-haired man said, holding out a hand to you. You took it after a moment of juggling the child to your other side, giving him your name in turn.

“Which way?” Djarin asked before you and Vanth could talk further.

“It’s not too far,” Vanth said, jerking his head and starting to walk. You kept pace with the two men, although you had the feeling they were taking pity on you and walking slower than they otherwise would. Well, that suited you fine. You could only hobble so fast.

“You say you found this crystal near your town?” Djarin asked as he walked.

“‘S right,” Vanth agreed. “There’s a deposit of ‘em. Too close to the creature, now. Can’t get close without getting trampled. Once the creature’s gone, you’re welcome to as many of ‘em as you want.”

Djarin hummed quietly at that and then fell silent. Vanth looked at you, and you shrugged and continued walking. It was a bit harder to walk in the sand than you were used to, and before long Djarin reached over and took the kid from you. You rather wished you’d grabbed your trusty walking stick before you’d left. Vanth offered you his arm, which you took with a grateful murmur.

“Not much farther,” Vanth told both of you as the sun slid towards the horizon. “We’ll be there before full dark.”

Well, that wasn’t as reassuring as he thought it was. You huffed but soldiered on, grateful for the assistance.

Finally, the village wavered on the edge of your vision, slipping in and out of sight for a while. It was quite curious, but you didn’t quite dare to ask Djarin or Vanth about the illusion effect. It also occurred to you that your eyes were possibly just acting their current age. (Another thing to wallop the Witch for.)

And then all at once you were just outside the village. Only a few people were still out and about, but you could see lights flickering in the huts.

“C’mon,” Vanth murmured to the two of you. “My place is this way. You can stay the night and start out first thing.”

Djarin started to protest but Vanth still had you firmly in his grasp, and he led you away. You heard Djarin sigh behind you and then start after you, and you smiled a little.

“It’s very kind of you to let us stay,” you murmured to Vanth.

“Oh it’s no trouble, ma’am,” he replied with a grin. “I like havin’ visitors over.” He shot you a wink, and you half-hid your chuckle behind a hand. “How’d you end up working for the wizard, anyway?”

“It’s a long story,” you deflected, waving a hand airily. “I’m sure a youngster like yourself wouldn’t be interested in anything so dull.”

"Indulge me?" Vanth asked, giving you his undivided attention.

You hesitated and then started crafting a somewhat vaguely truthful account. "I'm from Kalevala," you said, starting out speaking slowly. "I decided that I wanted to see more of the world, so I left home. I found the castle as I was walking and let myself in."

Vanth choked briefly on air as he opened the front door for you. "You let yourself in? Ma'am, you are far braver than I."

You waved off his compliment. "That's when I met the child. And, well, I have experience with my niece, you know. So I offered my services to the wizard."

"Offered?" Djarin drawled from behind you, very nearly giving you a heart attack.

You made a face at the wizard. He wasn't exactly wrong.

"Well, that's quite a story," Vanth said, looking between the two of you like he wasn't sure he'd gotten the whole story. Good instincts on this one. "Have y'all eaten? I can whip somethin' up for you."

"No, thank you," Djarin answered. He handed the kid back to you, and you cradled the little one easily.

Vanth nodded after a moment. "Make yourselves at home," he offered, waving at the space. He kicked his boots off and padded further inside.

You exchanged looks with Djarin, shrugged, and carefully toed your own shoes off. You were going to poke around (just a little), but Djarin expertly herded you to the couch.

"Let the kid sleep," was all the explanation he offered. You huffed but gave in, settling there for the moment.

Honestly, it wasn't as awkward as you would have feared. Not to mention the walk had worn you out more than you'd anticipated. By the time it was fully dark, you'd fallen asleep on the couch. You roused only briefly when Djarin encouraged you to lay down flat, the kid sprawled across your torso, and then you were out again.

Gentle nudges roused you in the morning, and you blinked your eyes open, bleary and a bit irritated.

"We're going now," Djarin murmured to you. He was crouched next to the couch, in his usual armor.

"Hmm?" You blinked at him, lifting one hand to rub crust out of your eyes.

"Vanth is showing me where the creature lives," Djarin reminded you patiently.

You grumbled something unintelligible at him. Djarin chuckled and stood.

"Go back to sleep," he told you. "I'll be back soon."

You lifted your head to watch him leave. Vanth nodded to you and shut the door after the two of them. Your head hit the pillow again and you were out.

You woke again later to little hands patting your cheeks, and you smiled without opening your eyes.

"Good morning," you murmured to the kid, who burbled happily at you. You cleared your eyes carefully and looked at the kid. "Hungry?"

The kid cooed, and you got up carefully. You weren't as sore or stiff as you thought you would be, which was nice. It didn't take long to find a little something for the kid to eat, but you both grew bored quickly.

"Shall we take a look around?" You asked the kid. He blinked up at you, and you carried him outside. You didn't plan to go far, you just wanted to look around. Stave off some boredom waiting for Djarin to return.

The village was small. You might even use quaint, if asked. It was a handful of huts and other buildings, with one general store and a few other odds and ends. Sand stretched out in all directions from the village, but you could see some greenery. Likely the crops Vanth had mentioned before.

You wandered over closer to look. In the clear light of day, the footprints you could see looked… large. Just a little worrisome.

"Well, whatever did this clearly wasn't happy," you murmured to the child, crouching down to get a better look at the crops and the footprints. "Look at the size of these! Why, I would certainly like to flee from anything with feet so large."

The kid cooed his agreement of that, looking around with big eyes. He wiggled to be put down, and you set him on his feet. He promptly stuck one of his feet in the massive footprint with a quiet noise of awe. Then he stuck his other foot in. And then jumped up and down a few times for good measure before he turned to you with a toothy grin.

"Ah, I see. You vanquished the footprint. Well done, my little friend." You chuckled. "Let's see how the remaining crops fare, hmm?"

The answer to that was not well. They looked traumatized - smaller than they should be and not at all healthy looking.

"Well, this won't do," you tutted. "Straighten up there, plants! Yes, you've had a fright, but you can do better than this! People depend on you, you know. You'd better get in shape soon."

A villager passing nearby gave you a look that was equal parts scared and wary and hurried away.

"How's that for gratitude?" You grumbled as you stood up straight. You looked down, expecting to see the child agreeing with you, and found no child. It took you a few moments to locate him, during which you had a minor heart attack. He was busy toddling away from you as fast as his little legs could carry him, heading further into the desert. "Kid?"

He made a noise somewhere between distressed and angry, and you caught up to him quickly.

"Show me," you told the kid, picking him up. There was a sense of urgency about him that you couldn't ignore.

The kid pointed off towards the desert, and you took off at a brisk walk. You could still see evidence of the creature as you walked - half-erased footprints in the sand, a few dung heaps, a tuft of dark, matted fur. You could also see occasional footprints from Djarin and Vanth. Worry started to gnaw at your insides.

The ground started to slope downwards, and rocks started to accumulate. It wasn't long before you were looking at… not quite a mountain. A hill, certainly. With a lot of mud. Sandy mud. You could feel it squishing under your shoes.

You found Vanth first, crouched down behind some boulders. He hissed at you both, waving you over.

"What are you doin'?" He demanded. "It's not safe out here! The wizard said to stay out of it and stay here!"

You set your jaw stubbornly. "I'm going to check on him," you said, shaking your head. "I'll be careful."

"At least gimme the kid," Vanth tried.

"Where I go, he goes." You stepped around the boulders and started towards the muddy depression. You could see a cave opening yawning in front of you. It took you a moment to spot the creature, but only a moment. It was well away from you, head lowered, gigantic horn aimed at the wizard. Who was sprawled inelegantly on his back on the ground, covered in mud and muck.

The kid let out a cry, and you found yourself mirroring him. The great head swung towards you and the kid, and Vanth yelled a warning. The creature snorted and then charged.

The kid raised a hand, eyes closing in concentration, and you felt the air around the two of you humming and vibrating with energy. So you focused on the kid, well aware that whatever was happening, he was doing it.

“Good, kid,” you murmured encouragingly. “You can do it. I know you can. I can feel how much strength you have - you’re quite impressive, actually.”

The creature stopped advancing towards the two of you and slowly lifted up into the air, its feet still going. It bellowed, clearly confused.

“Good, very good. Hold it there,” you instructed the kid. “You’re doing an excellent job. Just hold it a little longer.”

Djarin had jumped to his feet at all the yelling, and stood staring (so far as you could tell) at the scene until Vanth yelled something. You couldn’t quite hear, honestly, too focused on the child in your arms and the scene unfolding in front of you. But Djarin pulled a knife from… somewhere, you honestly weren’t sure where, and ran up to the creature. One quick plunge and twist of the knife, and it was over. The creature dropped to the ground. The kid slumped in your arms.

And you abruptly found yourself sitting in the mud, dizzy and euphoric and so scared, staring up at the wizard before you.

#Merry go round of Life #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #howl's moving castle au

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unbridgeabledistances · 4 years ago

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prompt: domestic gallavich/being intimate in a nonsexualway bc there’s like 3 weeks til the next episode 😐

your wish is my command, anon!<3 i decided to tie this into next ep bc i simply cannot HANDLE mickey’s outfit/big gay metamorphosis & i needed to create the scene that inspired it so i wrote this

a one-shot bridging 11x06 and 11x07 in which ian and mickey talk about “gay friends,” ripped jeans, and do a bit of processing along the way

tw for brief mention of homophobia/abuse (bc terry lol)

“How come we don’t have any, like, gay friends?”

Ian looked up from where he was laying on the ground, breathing heavily after a series of push-ups, a nightly routine that he was trying to keep intact even though he and Mickey were practically driving the entire circumference of Chicago every day to make weed deliveries from dawn til dusk, leaving them both exhausted. It had been a week since all the shit with Terry, and a month or so since he and Mickey had started the security gig; while months ago their evenings would be spent sitting side by side on the bed in a brittle silence while Ian read or scratched in his notebook and Mickey played games on his phone blasting at full volume in the pajamas he’d been wearing all day, these days the evenings in their bedroom were softer and warmer— like they were settling into the space together, like they were both on the same team instead of constantly clashing and butting heads while trapped in a too-small space. These days, after having dinner in the clamor of the crowded kitchen, he and Mickey would head upstairs and change out of their uniforms, and Ian would work out while Mickey mostly just lounged on the bed, sometimes making commentary and watching him bob up and down with a pensive smirk or scrolling through his phone.

But tonight, Mickey was quiet— his eyes flickered to the curves and edges of Ian’s torso every now and then as Ian broke a sweat, but otherwise he wasn’t playfully poking and prodding like usual.

Mickey had been a lot quieter in general this week, after all the stuff with Terry— Ian knew seeing the source of all of Mickey’s trauma in a wheelchair immobile from the neck down, the most vulnerable Terry could have been, felt worse than someone repeatedly twisting a knife in Mickey’s abdomen. But beyond the initial shock and the almost-murder and lugging him up the stairs, having Terry in a wheelchair twenty feet away did something deeper to Mickey. This whole situation shifted something solid that had been lodged in the pit of Mickey’s stomach for years— Ian could see it, and he fucking hated it. He hated Mickey’s glassy contemplative eyes as he looked out the car window while they drove to a new dropoff location, lost in his head when he thought Ian wasn’t looking. He hated the tightly wound tension between Mickey’s shoulder blades as he slept, curled into himself and twisted in the comforter, facing away from Ian on the other side of the bed. He hated the tight smiles Mickey gave him as he made some offhand joke about Terry when they could hear him cursing and shrieking through the open front windows, smiles that were trying to prove something outwardly but showed the barbed pain stinging at Mickey’s insides. Ian poured out what he could in soft touches, in skims of fingertips at the breakfast table and in an arm over Mickey’s waist while they slept; but he could only give as much as Mickey would take, and for most of the week Mickey had shut everyone out with iron walls.

Ian couldn’t imagine what was stirring in Mickey’s mind; he’d seen some of Mickey’s trauma firsthand, sure, and some of the stories about Terry came slipping through the cracks when Mickey’s guard was down— mostly on those late nights when they both couldn’t sleep and Mickey whispered into the crook of Ian’s neck as they were curled into each other, cradled in the dark silence of their bedroom. But Ian knew there was deeper shit that he hadn’t heard about, and he could see the constant fear of Mickey’s adolescence hanging heavy around his neck all these years later. But Mickey didn’t need anyone to push his walls down— Ian knew he’d open up when he was ready.

Which is why this random question, the most direct statement Mickey had really made to him all week, caught Ian off guard. He sat up, folding his arms over his legs and staring up at where Mickey was slouching on the bed, propped up by a pillow he’d shoved between his back and the wall. “Gay friends?” he asked, more than a little confused.

Mickey cleared his throat. “Yeah, gay friends, y’know. Like all your youth center queers that came to the wedding or whatever.” He suddenly looked down and picked at a fraying thread on his shirt sleeve, not meeting Ian’s eyes.

Ian raised an eyebrow in curiosity. This was random, sure, but Mickey wouldn’t have brought it up if something wasn’t weighing on him, bubbling up after all the events of this week.

“I don’t know— I guess since the pandemic and stuff, I haven’t really kept in touch with Geneva or any of those guys who came to our wedding. We only really talked after I got out of prison because of all the Gay Jesus publicity bullshit, but after you got out I wasn’t really thinking about that as much.”

Mickey blew out a breath, so quietly Ian barely noticed it. Ian stood, wiping his sweaty forehead and plopping down on the bed next to Mickey, folding his legs so their knees were almost touching— but still giving him space, still letting him breathe.

“Why’re you asking?”

“Don’t know, really. Just thinkin’.” Mickey picked at his shirt sleeve again, then flickered his gaze up to meet Ian’s eyes, two clear pools of glassy blue. “Thinkin’ about what life could’ve been like. If I wasn’t scared shitless of who I was for so long.”

Ian felt something twist in his gut, the same queasy pang of pain that always resurfaced whenever he saw Mickey like this, whenever he was reminded of all the unspeakable agony that Terry had put him through.

“It’s fucked up that you didn’t get to be who you were for so long, Mick,” he breathed, knowing that statement didn’t cover the amount of things that were fucked up about this situation.

Mickey ran his teeth over his bottom lip, like he was concentrating. “Yeah.”

Ian let them sit there for a second. It seemed like Mickey wanted to say more, but something in him was frozen solid. After a moment, Ian tried to break the tension.

“Hey, for the record, I’ve had lots of gay friends and you aren’t missing much. There’s lots of PC bullshit that’s important but took me fucking forever to learn— and even then, I never really felt like I totally belonged.” He gently nudged Mickey’s ribcage. “I guess that’s why I forgot about everyone, between work and getting to be with you all the time— I’d rather eat pizza in the mall food court with you than go to some boujee fucking café with the youth center people any day.”

The corner of Mickey’s mouth ticked upwards slightly. “Yeah. Guess you’re right.” His fingers went slack around the threads on his shirtsleeve he’d been picking at. “You don’t… miss it though? Bein’ around people who’re like us?”

Ian paused for a moment, imagining the youth center crew in the same room as Mickey— it would be fucking comical, like people speaking two different languages, like astronauts trying to communicate with aliens on Mars through gestures and confused looks. But that was just because Mickey didn’t know how to speak that language— he’d been kept shrouded in an abusive household with daily death threats for years, and then stowed away in prison where he didn’t have the chance to go to fucking brunches and clubs and education events like Ian could. Ian got the chance to learn all that shit— it wasn’t Mickey’s fault that he never did, and if it was anyone’s, it was all Terry’s.

Ian’s eyes flickered to Mickey’s face— he looked vulnerable and split open, like he was drifting away in all the possibilities of what could have been. When he answered, Ian spoke softly, carefully.

“I mean… I guess I do. There were nice parts of going out with people, or even those after-parties back when I used to work at the club. There’s something nice about being with your people, where you can make jokes about stuff or talk about deep shit and everyone’s on the same page. It’s hard to find that around here.” Ian tentatively crawled his hand over the blanket, letting it rest on Mickey’s knee. “S’there anything else going on?”

Mickey raised his thumb to his mouth, biting at a hangnail contemplatively. “Dunno, man. Just thinking. How it might be nice, to have friends like us. I used to be scared of hangin’ with other queers, but I think that was just some deep bullshit with Terry.” He looked up to meet Ian’s eyes. “It’d be nice to stop… hating that part of myself, or whatever.”

Ian smiled, reaching to intertwine his fingers with Mickey’s and tracing a pattern with the thumb that was free from their grasp on Mickey’s inner thigh, a soft touch of validation that Ian hoped would soak into Mickey’s skin.

“I think so too.” Ian watched the corner of Mickey’s mouth curve upwards. “I can definitely hit up some of the people I used to hang with, and see if they wanna get coffee or something? With the two of us? Only if you want.”

Mickey nodded— then chuckled a breathy laugh, like he was relieved. “Fuck it. Yeah.”

Ian couldn’t help it; Mickey looked so fucking sweet and so relieved that he had to press a kiss to the top of his head. Mickey squirmed underneath him, bristling like a cat that didn’t want to be pet like he did with most of Ian’s soft touches— but Ian just grinned and doubled down, pressing another slower peck onto Mickey’s temple. Mickey blew out a slow breath.

“Don’t know what I’d fuckin’ wear to a brunch with a bunch of Northside do-gooder gays,” he said after a moment, his voice wavering so slightly that no one except Ian would have noticed.

Ian rolled his eyes fondly, giving Mickey’s hand a quick pulse of a squeeze. “Mickey, are you kidding? Wear whatever the fuck you want. You don’t need to change yourself, that’s kind of the whole point.”

“Yeah. Fuck. Guess it is.” Mickey was quiet for a moment, but still chewing on his bottom lip, like he was building the courage to say something more. Ian could tell— he let the comfortable silence hang between them, knowing that Mickey would break it when he was ready.

“D’you think it’d be stupid if I, like, tried to… jazz up my look a bit?” He darted his eyes nervously to Ian’s face, down to their clasped hands, and then back to the covers again. “Like, uh— I don’t know. Maybe wore some shit that didn’t have holes in it. With patterns, or whatever.”

Ian felt his face split into a grin. Patterns, or whatever— god, he loved his dumbass husband so fucking much. He pressed another kiss to Mickey’s cheek— this time Mickey didn’t flinch away, his only resistance a forced roll of his eyes.

“Mick, I don’t think that’s stupid at all. I think you should dress however makes you feel good.”

“’Kay.” Mickey pursed his lips, like he was still hesitant. Ian rubbed his thumb over the back of Mickey’s hand, their fingers still clasped and hanging limply in Mickey’s lap. The silence was hanging again, and Ian could still feel the tight waves of anxiety bouncing off of Mickey. He took in a breath.

“I could… help you, y’know. If you wanted to dress a certain way. At the very least I could gas you up and tell you how hot you look.” Ian paused, smirking and running his eyes over Mickey’s torso. “But I could also help you pick shit out, or whatever. We could order some stuff online.”

Mickey looked up at him, his eyes oddly relieved and open in a way they hadn’t been in days. “Yeah?”

Ian softly smiled. “Yeah. Only if you want to. You’re you, and you don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. I love the way you look— hell, it drives me crazy, Mick. But— if you feel like you aren’t dressing the way that makes you feel the best, or like you’re putting on an act for other people and you don’t want to anymore— then we can figure this out.”

This time it was Mickey that initiated affection, lifting their clasped hands and pressing a quick ghost of a kiss to Ian’s wrist. Ian smiled in acknowledgement, then playfully raised his eyebrows. “You wanna look online now? I’m done working out and more than happy to help you gay up your look.”

Mickey unclasped their hands, playfully shoving Ian squarely in the chest. “Fuck you.” Then, in an uncharacteristic move from the way Mickey had been flinching away from his touches all week, Mickey leaned in closer to Ian’s chest, nestling his back on Ian’s sternum and reaching for his phone that was discarded on the blanket beside him. “Alright, hot stuff. Where’re we fucking shopping?”

Ian grinned and snapped the waistband of Mickey’s sweatpants playfully, shuffling underneath him and getting comfortable.

“’Kay, let me think. I used to order a bunch of shirts and stuff from Primark when I was going out with the youth center people. They have good denim, too.”

Mickey’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth again while he listened. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the phone’s keyboard— then, in an automatic movement, he quickly shoved his phone into Ian’s hand, cheerfully wriggling back into Ian’s chest. Ian smirked and unlocked the phone, happy to take the reins— online shopping for fashion was clearly lightyears out of Mickey’s comfort zone.

Ian navigated over to the Primark homepage, plastered with torsos of toned models wearing striped button ups and ripped jeans. His thumb pressed down onto the “denim” tab, and he started to slowly scroll through the rows of options, holding the phone so Mickey could see.

“I don’t know what you really want, but they’ve got pretty cheap pants and shit that’re good quality…” Ian let his voice trail off, speaking softly to where Mickey was lying on his chest in a voice that he knew was tickling the shell of Mickey’s ear. Mickey almost seemed… nervous, or at the very least paralyzed by the wealth of options. He raised his thumb to his mouth, anxiously biting the hangnail again.

“I guess those ripped ones don’t look too bad.”

Ian clicked on the picture Mickey was referring to. They were black jeans, a dark wash and skinny cut, with patches ripped on both knees. Ian felt something well in his chest, probably an overreaction to a pair of jeans— but these jeans were perfect for Mickey. They weren’t too much, weren’t overly fashionable, but they still felt more clean-cut than the baggy pants Mickey usually threw on. These jeans were badass, and totally aligned with Mickey’s don’t-fuck-with-me vibe, but they were deliberate. Stylish. Like they were saying here the fuck I am.

“Yeah?” Ian knew Mickey could tell he was smiling from his voice.

Mickey smirked, craning his neck and turning to look up at Ian. “Yeah. Think I can pull ‘em off?”

Ian pressed his lips together. “Fuck yeah. You’re gonna look so good.”

Mickey just gave a satisfied smile, and nestled back against Ian’s chest again. “Let’s get ‘em, then.”

#i hope u enjoy!<3 #also im sorry I’ve been so mia in regards to prompts #my mom’s been in the hospital all week and it’s just been a very tough and draining time #but writing this brought me so so much joy!#gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless season 11

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purefrostbyte · 4 years ago

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Beauty in Strength

Bnha Japanese Deity AU

Ungyo!Kirishima

Rating: Smut

Beauty in Strength

“…,..i,…oi,….OI!” The red haired god was awoken from his slumber by his loud and irritated partner. “Shitty Hair you can’t just sleep all the fucking time! We got shit to do, prays to answers and offerings to sort through. Do I need to remind you that there’s a war brewing down there!?” The red head looked over at the ash blonde god who scowled him and grinned, “Come on Bakugo, just getting some rest. You don’t get strength without it.” Bakugo growled at him, “Get your ass up, we’re going inside.” The redhead stretch his muscles before popping off his chair and following his partner. The temple was dark, no monks or people in sight only the orbs of prays that had been said during the day. The redhead sighed, until he noticed an offering on his table, one he was all too familiar with. “Bakugo!” he cheered as he raced to his offering table to pick up the small plate, “She came! And she left food!” The red haired god grinned before biting into the offering, moaning at the tenderness of the meat and the flavor. “She always brings you food dipshit,” Bakugo snapped as he looked through the many prayers left to him.

All of a sudden the sound of the front doors opening filled the temple and the two gods froze, what the hell was a human doing here this late? The two quickly hid as they heard soft footsteps approach and Kirishima couldn’t help the grin that settled on his face when he saw who it was. It was you, dressed in a red silk kimono and holding a plate of Yakitori on your hand. You gently placed it on his offering table before bowing and sliding down to the floor to pray. Kirishima and Bakugo watched you, curious as to why you would be at the temple this late.

“Oh God Ungyo,” you started and Kirishima cocked his head to the side, she was here this late at night to pray to him? “Please hear my prayer. I pray for strength but not the usual type.” The two gods stared at you puzzled, the hell did that mean. “I know I am just a woman, but I cannot stand by and watch my village be demolished.” Kirishima gasped, you weren’t doing what he thought you were doing…were you. “Please give me strength on the battle field to defeat my enemy and protect my home.” Kirishima and Bakugo’s jaws dropped, if the people of your village found out you were doing this, you would be put to death. “Please,” you breathed, “Please be merciful and grant me the strength I need. I care not for if I am discovered and put to death. I only care for the wellbeing of my family.” Kirishima frowned, you were willing to put your life on the line, for you family that would ultimately be the ones sentencing you to death.

You bowed once more, giving your thanks, before quickly getting up and leaving to make it back home before dawn. The two gods watched your retreating figure, one with a frown while the other shook their head. Bakugo shook his head, “She’s fucking crazy.” Kirishima looked to the offering she left him, the Yakitari that she left every time as an offering. Bakugo looked towards his godly partner, “No fucking way,” Baku said, shocked at what he was seeing. “What?” Kirishima asked, fidgeting nervously. “You can’t fore fill her prayer, it’s a fucking death wise Kirishima!” Kirishima sighed before looking in the direction you retreated in. “I have you Bakugo, even if I really don’t want to.”

The battle had been a success and your village was safe once more and it made your heart over flow with happiness. It had been weeks of fighting, of hard work and bloodshed, but finally it was over. But sadly so were you. You smiled at your family one last time, watching you siblings and parents cry as one of the generals you had fought with, and might I add whose life you had saved, lit the fire beneath you that would soon kill you. You smiled though, much to everyone’s shock, and you thank Ungyo for granting you the strength you need to protect the ones you love. You had prepared for this, you didn’t fear death and now all you waited for was for the fiery embrace of death to take you.

“Please Yaoyorozu! I’m begging you, give her soul to me!” Kirishima begged as the Goddess of creation and death held your soul. She sighed deeply, “It’s not that simple Kirishima. To keep a soul with you in the heavenly realm, well it would mean she is either your slave or a devout follower.” Kirishima yelled, “But she is Yaoyorozu! She is one of my devout followers! Her life ended because I fore fulled her prayer! Please Yaoyorozu, I need to make it up to her!!!” yaoyorozu sighed and took pity on the god of strength, she could see he felt guilty over everything. “Fine, but you must promise to take care of her,” Yaoyorozu instructed and Kirishima nodded profusely, “Of course, of course! Anything!” And that is how you landed up in the care of the God you worshipped the most.

Everything hurt, your feet burned and your lungs felt like they were on fire. You sat up, needing a glass of water desperately and your eyes scanned the room. It looked like you were in heaven, everything in the room was white and gold, the decor expensive looking and the sheets you lay on made of silk. Your eyes fell on a man with ash blonde hair, who sat in a chair a little ways away from you. He seemed to be reading a book and hadn’t noticed that you had woken. You looked down at your body and you couldn’t hold the gasp that tore from your throat. You were dressed in probably one of the most beautiful kimono’s you had ever seen, it was red with gold accents and golden loins were sown into the red fabric.

The ash blonde looked up from his book and scowled at you, causing you to shriek slightly. “Shitty Hair! She’s awake!” You cocked your head to the side out of confusion until the doors to the room flew open and rushed in came a man who made your stomach full with butterflies. He had spikey red hair, a scar just above his right that accentuated his crimson orbs. He was muscular, that you could tell because he was only wearing a pair of Hakama, leaving his torso bare for your eyes to wonder. The ash blonde tsked before getting up and leaving, yelling something about going to answer more prayers. You sucked in a breath as the red head stepped closer to you, “I’m sorry for not being here when you woke up Y/n, but the war had me very busy. I’m sure you understand.” He grinned at you and you heart felt like it could leap out of your chest. “Where….Where am I?” You asked timidly and the redhead smiled at you, “Why, you’re in my home!” You bit your lip, not the answer you were looking for. “Then…who are you?” Kirishima found the shyness in your voice and actions adorable, “I am Ungyo, God of Strength. But you can call me Kirishima, you’re currently in my house in the heavenly realm.”

Your jaw dropped, there’s no way. “No,” you said and Kirishima cocked his head to the side and laughed, “No? Sorry but it’s the truth. I answered you prayer about helping protect your village, but I knew the fate you would succumb to. So I spoke with the goddess of death and asked if your soul could reside here with me.” Kirishima smiled and your face flushed, “So your telling me that you’re the God Ungyo and that, I’m currently in the Heavenly Realm?!” You asked, shocked out of your mind. Kirishima chuckled nervously, “Yeah, basically. The guy that was in here earlier is Agyo, but you can just call him Bakugo.”

Kirishima gave you time to take in all the information given to you, he didn’t mean to overload you. He was just excited that you were awake. “Why?” you asked quietly and Kirishima furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why what?” he asked and then he noticed the small wet dots on your kimono. “Why do you want me to stay here? Aren’t I a disgrace because I’m a woman who fought?” Tears stained your eyes and Kirishima’s heart broke. He had always hated it when you cried, he had followed you around since you left your first offering of Yakitari on his table. It was the first thoughtful gift he had received and he had granted your prayer instantly that day. From there he continued to watch you, and the more he did the move he fell in love with you.

“Hey,” he said softly, lifting your face to look at him, “You are no such thing. You were strong when your village need it most. If anything they made a mistake when they sent you away. Not that I’m complaining, causing now I have you all to myself!” You looked up at him with big doe eyes, you heart bounding at his last comment. “A-..All….t-o….All to you-yourself!” Your stuttering was adorable to him and he couldn’t help the almost primal grin that appeared on his face when he noticed the hint of lust and longing in your eyes. “Yip,” he whispered licking his lips before slowly pushing you back onto the bed, “All,” he was on top of you, “To,” he was leaning down, “My,” his hands were undoing the ribbon of your kimono, “Myself.” He ripped the ribbon open and with it your kimono opened to reveal yourself to him.

A gasp left your throat that was hungrily swallowed up by Kirishima as he pressed his lips to yours. Your lips were just like he imaged, soft and warm, and he couldn’t help the groan that left his lips when his hand met the soft skin of your back thigh. You let out a shaky moan, you had never been touched by a man before and the feeling of Kirishima’s large, strong hands on you was addictive. He licked at your bottom lip, wanting entrance and you obeyed. When you were alive you had given everything to the God in front of you and that translated over in death to. Ungyo held your heart, body and soul and we was free to do what he pleased with it.

The feeling of his tongue massaging yours was heavenly and you didn’t notice when you bucked your hips upwards due to the feel Kirishima was giving you. He pulled away from you with a pop, a small trail of salvia connecting your lips. Your face was nothing less of erotic. Cheeks flushed, eyes half lidded and mouth parted slightly as you panted. Kirishima groaned at the sight, “Fuck I can get use to this.”

His hand trailed up your delinquent skin and you ached your back into his touch. Kirishima’s pupils fully dilate when he hears you moan as he cups your breasts, needing them in his giant hands. You panted as he touched, wanting nothing more than to please you. The only problem was that you wanted to please him too. Your attempt to flip him over and take charge was foreseen however and soon you found yourself with your arms pinned above your head by a strong hand. “Oh no you don’t my little lion,” he nipped at your ear and you moaned, “Today, I pleasure you. After all, you did give up your life for this, let me give you a good reason baby.” His voice was low and raspy and it made your stomach coil delightfully at the promise he was making. “Please,” you whispered in a dreamy state and Kirishima chuckled, “Begging already? Fuck you are just too perfect.”

The swear word had court you off guard, but so did the finger Kirishima had now slipped into your core. You threw your head back, you had never been touched and had never touched yourself, and that made Kirishima all the more excited to claim as his forever. He slipped second finger into you and started scissoring inside you. You gasped and withered under him and all he did was watch with a smile. “Your beautiful baby, god I can’t wait to make you mine,” You mewl at his words, wanting nothing more than to be his. He then let go of your wrists working his way down your body, “Be a good girl and keep your arms there for me ok?” you nodded and did as you were told, confused as to what was about to happen.

Then Kirishima’s mouth engulfed your clit and your moaned so loudly that you were sure that if Bakugo was hear he would have heard it. Kirishima smirked against your core, loving how responsive you were to him. He continued to suck and lick at you lick, working you open and watching how you thrashed and withered because of him. “Kirishima! Kirishima Please!!” you gasped, you wanted him, wanted nothing more than to be his and be by his side. Kirishima let go of your clit and retracted his fingers, which caused you to whine at the loss of contact. “Shhh, baby,” he whispered as he shed his Hakama and aligned himself with your core. He pushed in, whispering words of comfort as you gasped and shook. It was painful, but Kirishima helped you through it and waited until you were fully adjusted.

“You…you can move,” you whispered as you panted, the feeling foreign but not unpleasant and when Kirishima started thrusting, you saw stars higher that the heavens. “Kirishima!” You gasped as your legs clamped shut around his waist. Kirishima growled and picked up his pace, determined to wreck you. “Fuck baby, that’s it. You take me so well,” he was growling in your ear, one of his hands on the back of you thigh for support while the other was lost in you mass of h/c locks. “Kiri, Kiri, Kiri,” you chanted his name like a prayer and fuck if it wasn’t everything he ever wanted. “Yes Baby, fuck. Tell me how you feel baby,” Your head tilted back as he hit a small bundle of nerves on you, “OH GOD! Kiri! Oh, I feel so good. God PLEASE!” Kirishima chuckled at you bending down to you ear to nipple playfully, “Your god’s right here Darling,” his thrusts became harder and faster as he was filled with renewed vigor, “And I ain’t letting you go baby.”

His next thrust was angled just right and you cam, his name rolling off your tongue sinfully as you screamed through the heavens. Kirishima growled and kept thrusting, prolonging your high while chasing his. He cam in you with a groan that boarder a growl and it along and the over stimulation made you cum a second time. He grinned down at you, not bothering to pull out as he wrapped you both in the silk sheets, “Sleep my little lion, you need rest.”

Dear lord was this one long. I want to make this into a AU, so there will be more with other characters. Its all loosely based on Japanese folklore, deities and spirits. I really tried my hardest and I hope you all enjoyed it

XOXO

#ungyo!kirishima #Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima x reader #bnha smut #bnha #kirishima smut #bnha japanese god au

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jpegjade · 4 years ago

Text

Hot Coco (Part 2) - Spencer

random but i finished hot coco part 2 while procrastinating a paper!!!

warnings: talks about medication and a panic attack but that’s it.

genre: fluff. a little angsty

word count: hella.

Hot coco part 1 - Here

enjoy!

*****

“I hate this.” You muttered, bouncing your leg.

The anxiety filling the air, you noticed every detail about the room and it made you nervous. The little girl across from you wouldn’t stop staring and her mom didn’t do anything to tell her that staring was rude. She also wouldn’t keep still, swinging her legs back and forth while yours bounced. The pictures on the walls were all a little bit crooked. You didn’t like that. You wanted to fix it. Why was it bothering you so much? Everything seemed to bother you these days, even when Spencer was home.

“You’re biting your lip and bouncing your leg. You’ve been staring at that little girl the whole time we’ve been here and you keep fidgeting with the rips in your jeans. You’re anxious about something. What’s up?” Spencer said, half whispering into your ear, trying not to disturb the quiet in the waiting room.

The waiting room wasn’t that big. It was just wide enough to fit the 6 people waiting in the room, plus you and Spencer, but not with enough breathing room. You felt suffocated in that room.

“I don’t like doctors. I especially don’t like the ones that will just tell me something’s wrong with me and classify me as something. I’m not something. I’m a goddamn person.” You angrily half whispered back. You were a little louder than Spencer so the mom of the little girl shot you beady eyes as if you cared. You had the extreme urge to flip her off and Spencer noticed your hand twitching so he grabbed it, interlacing his fingers between them.

“You can’t tell children to go fuck themselves.” Spencer whispered, grinning. “Imagine if it was the girls.”

You paused for a second, thinking about your daughters. The funniest part was that they had seen you get angry at Spencer, even if he didn’t get angry, and you screamed ‘Fuck you’ at him when he barely responded.

“Y/n Reid.” The nurse called out.

You and Spencer stood up together, walking towards the open door, following the nurse. You got your basic vitals taken, weight and blood pressure. You weren’t excited about your weight, and Spencer saw it in your face so he said your weight was “so many pounds of love for only him.” You smiled at his cheesiness, following the nurse into the psychiatrist’s office. The office was different than going to a general doctor. There was no bed for you to recline on, there were only two seats in front of a desk.

The psychiatrist was a nice enough older lady who spent her time trying to get your back story, understand your history, know more about your experiences with anxiety and stress. She just talked to you like a normal human being, not like a patient. She even laughed at some of your jokes, depending on which one you cracked. All of them were about how much you loved your husband and how outgoing your daughters were.

“Do you often have panic attacks and the medication you have doesn’t work?” She asked, scribbling on the paper.

“What medication?” You asked, wondering what you were missing out on.

“She doesn’t take medication.” Spencer said, noticing that your leg was bouncing again. It wasn’t bouncing a moment before. He put his hand on your leg and gently moved his thumb to help calm you.

“Well I’m going to give you something for the day to day anxiety and something for the panic attacks. I’ll see you in two weeks to check in, alright?” The doctor said, handing over some samples and a piece of blue paper with her handwriting on it.

Saying your goodbyes and scheduling the next appointment was a daze to you so Spencer handled it. He was used to making appointments for his mom so long ago that he already knew how things went.

The car ride home was just as frustrating as the appointment so you sat there, arms crossed, staring out into the distance. You barely registered when the two of you pulled into the driveway, parking next to Penelope’s car. Spencer turned off the engine and looked ahead while you looked out your window.

“I used to hate driving.” He said, chuckling.

“Spencer, you still hate driving.” You scrunched up your face.

“That's true. But I hate my girls not being able to get around properly, especially when my favorite girl isn’t feeling her best.” Spencer said, reaching over for your hand.

You uncrossed your arms and let Spencer hold your hand. You felt some of your anger melt away.

“Spencer, I’m broken. How am I supposed to be a good mom to the girls with these?” You shook the sample pill bottles.

“Pills don’t make you any less of a good mom. They don't make you any less of a good wife or less of a person. Honey, you just need some extra help staying regulated and calm.” Spencer kissed your hand and held it to his cheek, flashing those big puppy eyes at you.

“It’s just something else I can’t do by myself…” You said, sighing.

Tears began to prickle your eyes when you felt Spencer put his head in the crook of your neck, resting on your shoulder. His hair was fluffy on your cheek as a tear slipped and you smiled at the feeling. It must not have been comfortable to stretch his torso over the middle console but he still made the effort anyway.

“You know that having to take medication doesn’t define you, right? Needing chemical assistance isn’t a bad thing. It just means you have a need and that’s how you fill the need when I can’t be there. And when I can be there. And when the girls can be there. And when we all can be together, drinking hot chocolate and watching kids movies together.” Spencer lifted his head to kiss you on the cheek.

“That’s easy for you to say.” You sighed, wiping a tear away.

You didn’t know why this was really so frustrating to you but you knew that this was the last thing you wanted. You knew it was hard for Spencer to watch you need medication because it made him think about his mom. You didn't like the moments when you reminded him of his mom because he should only have to worry about his mom and his kids. He shouldn’t have to worry about his wife.

“Let’s go in and get some ice cream. I think you need some ice cream.” Spencer kissed your cheek again before he grabbed the bag of samples and got out of the car.

You watched as he shuffled around to your side of the car, opening the door for you. You wiped away your last tear and stepped out of the car with a deep breath. Spencer pulled you into a calming hug as soon as he closed the door, wrapping his arms around you.

“The girls are so proud of you for getting help.” Spencer said, squeezing you a little bit.

You smiled into his chest knowing he was just saying that to make you feel better since the girls wouldn’t completely understand the full weight of what it meant to you. Honestly, all you wanted in that moment was a nap.

Spencer let you go, kissed your forehead, and grabbed your hand as the two of you walked up to the front door. As the two of you put the keys in, you heard sounds of screaming, which alerted the two of you.

Penelope was watching the girls so the fact that they were screaming wasn’t a good sign. Spencer quickly unlocked the front door, pushing it open and racing to the living room to find Penelope and the girls screaming in laughter over Halloweentown 2. A big sigh was released between the two of you before the girls noticed that you were home.

Penelope was the first to get up, carefully stepping over the action figures and dolls strewn throughout the floor, arms wide open to hug the two of you. The girls quickly followed behind, Spencer picking them up, and they stretched their little arms as big as possible to reach between their parents and Penelope.

“Did you girls have fun?” You asked as Spencer put the girls down on the floor.

“We did!” Chloe cheered, jumping up and down. She was always more excited than her sister.

"They did!" Penelope said, smiling as she walked over to get her bag.

You offered to pay her with the extra cash you took out of the ATM for her but she refused with every part of her being.

"I did it because I love my little god-daughters." She said, waving at everyone as she closed the door behind her.

You were absolutely exhausted, tired of everything, and a little depressed. You went to your room to lay down while you heard Spencer talking to the girls.

"Okay, loves of my life. It's time to clean up." There was rustling but you didn't really hear anyone move.

In a not so hushed tone, Chloe and Alexandria both asked, "What about mommy? Is she okay?"

There was quiet as you waited for Spencer to figure out how to explain everything to the girls.

"Mommy's going through a hard time right now." Spencer started.

There was more rustling.

"Why?" Alexandria asked. She was always the one to ask questions.

"There's no reason. She didn't do anything wrong. But her brain isn't very happy with life right now so we're going to be very quiet and put everything away and I'll get you girls a snack while you finish the movie." Spencer said.

After you heard giggles that brought a smile to your face, you thought about how badly you wanted to be in the room with the girls and Spencer. But then the feelings of isolation came back. The fear of ruining everything by just being in there with them, their watchful stare as they worried about you. Spencer not seeing you as the person he married...

Before you knew it, you were back in the corner of the room, trying to catch your breath. You curled up as much as possible, facing the wall in front of you as the tears streamed down your face. Thoughts came rushing back to you: Spencer taking the girls and leaving; the girls growing up hating you for not being able to care for them; Spencer leaving you alone with the girls; Spencer...

"Hey, babe? I brought apple slices and..." Spencer looked up from his plate of apple slices he arranged into a smiley face and saw that you weren't in the bed anymore.

Looking around the room, he heard sniffles, the signs of quiet crying, and mumbling. Putting the apple slices on the bed, he found you on the other side of the room, rocking, back facing him.

"Y/n... Are you okay?" Spencer asked.

He knew you weren't okay, not in the slightest, but he wanted to let you know he was in the room and he cared. Meanwhile, your mumbling continued, the labored breathing as you tried and failed to regulate it.

Spencer heard the girls giggling in the living room and was glad that they had their movie and their snacks as he closed the door. They were already worried about you. They shouldn't have to worry more right now.

"I can't..." You kept repeating, over and over again.

You were so far out of it that Spencer didn't think you registered him sitting about a foot away from you as you cried heavily.

"Princess, what can't you do?" Spencer sat with his legs criss-crossed, facing you.

He wanted to badly just to hold you but he didn't want to send you into shock or make anything worse. He still had the pill samples in his pocket and he needed to convince you to take one but he was racking his brain as to how...

"I can't... I can't..." You kept repeating, you head growing light headed. The room was hot and spinning...

"Y/n, please talk to me? It's Spencer. It's just the two of us." Spencer watched as you looked over at him, a hint of recognition in your face.

"Spencer... I can't do this." You said, tears streaming freely now.

"Do what, my love?" Spencer did a small scoot towards you now that you acknowledged him but he didn't touch you. He just got a little bit closer.

"I can't... Anything. I'm not like you. I'm not strong. I'm alone. I'm scared. I can't do any of it." You said, not even bothering to wipe your cheeks of the drying tears because more would just fall.

"You can do this. You aren't alone, I'm here. I got time off from Hotch and we can go on a trip. We can do something different while we get you settled, balanced." Spencer smiled a little, just to give you some ounce of hope, but you weren't going for it.

"Spencer, I can't function... Not like I used to. Not like before..." You burst into a fresh set of tears.

You didn't want it to seem like you were blaming the girls. It wasn't their fault. But you knew things were different than when it was just you and Spencer together. Alone together.

"The girls were a big life change..." Spencer said, already knowing.

He always knew...

"I'm sorry. It's not their fault and it's not yours. It's..." You were about to blame yourself, halfheartedly.

"It's not yours either." Spencer always knew.

You were shaking and all you wanted was to breathe again. Stop crying. Go out and hang out with the joys of your life, all three of them.

"Princess, come here?" Spencer opened his arms and you climbed into his lap.

Whenever you were ready to be touched, Spencer was there with open arms. He knew that you would have said no if you weren't ready. He held onto you softly, not too much pressure. He made sure you could see everything in front of you so you didn't feel closed in. He even had a small bottle of water from the bedside table on the floor with him.

"Spence, I'm a failure..." You said, almost at a whisper.

"You're not a failure. You just need help." Spencer pulled out the little capsule and opened the bottle of water for you.

You stared at it blankly before grabbing it in your hand. Spencer nudged the water bottle a little closer to you and you sighed, taking it in your hand before swallowing it.

"It's supposed to make me sleepy..." You said, sighing again.

"Let's climb into bed and I can hold you until you wake up. Or until the girls start burning the house down. I think that would be grounds for letting go of you to put the fire out." Spencer smiled, kissing the top of your forehead.

You weren't able to walk to the bed on your own so he held you as much as he could as you both climbed in and got comfortable. Spencer noticed you were still shaking even though you were calming down slowly. He knew part of it was because you were cold again and the other part was because you were so emotionally drained from the process.

Spencer put on his 'y/n's bad day' playlist that he made for you on that app you convinced him to get. You know, the music one. The two of you make collaborative playlists to keep each other going through the days when he was away from home. Since the last time you listened to it, Spencer added a couple new songs that you hadn't heard before but you decided you liked. Slowly, your blinking grew longer and your body grew heavier.

"What about a road trip?" Spencer said, thinking.

"Hmm?" You hummed, deciding to just let your eyes close and listen to his heartbeat.

"A road trip. We can go somewhere... Away from here for a little while. Let my girls see something different." Spencer kissed the top of your head as he felt you growing more relaxed. Your grip around his waist was getting looser.

"I think the girls would like that..." Your voice was very soft at this point and Spencer was a little less tense knowing that the medication was helping.

"What about you? You're my girl too." Spencer smiled and nuzzled the top of your head.

"I'm happy whenever I'm with you, wherever we are." You drifted off to sleep with a little snore that Spencer found so cute.

"I love you so much..." Spencer said, yawning.

As if on cue, there was a tiny knock at the door, followed by two heads peaking out from around the now-open door.

"Daddy? Can we lay down with you and mommy?" Alexandria asked as she and Chloe tiptoed towards the end of the bed.

Spencer lifted his head to make sure you were still sleeping before quietly nodding.

The girls climbed into bed on Spencer's side, getting cozy in his free arm. Soon, all of his girls were sound asleep and all he could do was think about how lucky he was to have you. Through all of the darkness he lived in for so long, now he had you and the girls.

#dad!spencer #spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine

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sha-nwa · 4 years ago

Link

Rating: General Audiences

Word count: 1072

Summary:

If I wished myself a superpower I would make this moment last for hours

Or, Marinette deals with the fact that she will someday lose her memories, and Adrien is there to comfort her.

A/N: hi hello this is my very first fic!! based off the song photograph (cody fry). big thanks to @anna-scribbles, @chatnoirinette and @marikittynoir for hyping me up enough to post ily guys 🥺

Photograph

Marinette sat curled on the couch, knitting needles forgotten in her lap. Across the room, she watched Adrien play with his hair as he admired the sunset. After putting dinner in the oven, he’d gone back into their room to wrap himself in the duvet before settling on the window seat. The golden rays bounced off his face, making his skin glow and his eyes sparkle. Marinette used to wonder if he modeled subconsciously, but had learned that awe was a natural expression for him. He couldn’t help but soak up the beauty in everything he saw, and echo it back into the world. As quietly as she could, Marinette slid from her spot on the couch and snapped his picture.

The click shook Adrien from his daze. “Like what you see?” He smirked.

“Maybe,” she said, blush giving her away. She took the polaroid from the camera and began to fan it out. “Sometimes I just… Wanna keep these moments, you know?” She looked down. “Of us. Of our life, like this.”

Adrien stood and swept an arm out, bowing. “My lady?”

She took his hand as he spun her, laughter bubbling up in them both. He pulled her close and she wrapped her arms around his torso. They began to sway slowly in the center of the room, socked feet on shag rug. Adrien began humming into Marinette’s ear and she smiled-- they’d done this hundreds of times. At parties when they were fourteen, on rooftops at midnight to avoid saying goodbye, and in bedrooms on tiptoes as parents slept soundly. At this point, dancing with Adrien was second nature to Marinette. She wished she could remember every single time they’d danced together so she could replay the memories in her mind like old movies.

Memories seemed so precious these days-- since becoming guardian, Marinette knew she’d have to give all of them up someday. She knew every new memory she made had a shorter shelf life than the one before. Usually, it encouraged her to make the most of every day she had with the people she loved. But sometimes, the thought of giving up everything she had ever known was just too much to take in. Sometimes, it just hurt.

Marinette nuzzled her face into Adrien’s shoulder, trying to feel as much of him in this moment as she could. Trying to sear right now into her memory as deep as it would go. His heartbeat was steady. The way he held her was safe. He smelled like home.

She gripped him tighter.

Adrien nudged her forehead with his nose. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she nodded into his chest. “I just-- sometimes it feels like my life is flying by, and every moment I spend with you is also a moment I’ll one day have to give up, and sometimes I feel like I’d give anything just to freeze time for a little while. Just to keep you a little longer.” She swallowed, trying hard not to let her emotions get the best of her.

Adrien rubbed small circles into her back, and she felt the tension leave her body instantly. “Marinette, you will never have to give me up. I’m gonna be here the whole time. And we are going to live a whole life together before that day comes.”

“But that’s it, isn’t it?” She shook her head into his chest. “We’re going to have years together, and then I’m going to forget all of them. I don’t want to forget what it’s like to be in love with you,” there was a small wet spot on the front of Adrien’s shirt now.

He kept rubbing circles into Marinette’s back, and she sank further into his touch. She didn’t ever want to forget what it was like to be here with him, to love him. She didn’t want to forget falling for him at fourteen, fighting by his side, falling for him again, and building a life together. And she didn’t want to forget all the things that were to come-- the kids, creating the family Adrien never had, and growing old together. And after all that, she didn’t want to leave him to remember it alone, either.

“Marinette, do you remember the first scarf you ever made me?”

His question broke her from her thoughts. “Yes,” she laughed. “It was so awful. The stitches were super uneven, and it took me way longer than it should have. I think it was actually the first knitted piece I ever finished.”

“Yeah, and I loved it even more when I found out it was from you. But how many scarves have you made me since then?”

“Oh gosh. Fifty? Too many to count.”

“And if I asked you to make me one right now, how long would it take you?”

“Like two days, tops. I could do that now without even paying attention. I could do that and beat you at UMS at the same time.”

Laughing, he hugged her tighter. “Yes. You absolutely could. You have had so much practice knitting-- and beating me at UMS-- that your fingers can do it reflexively. They know how to create and play without your brain having to work at all.” He was quiet for a minute. “I think, after it happens, loving will be like that. Like muscle memory. You and I will have had so many years of loving each other, it’ll be like breathing. Even if your mind doesn’t have the memories to hold on to anymore, I think you’ll look at me and remember how to be in love.”

She looked up to see glistening eyes that matched her own. “Like breathing?”

“Yes, My Lady. Like breathing.”

Marinette rose on to her toes and pecked him on the lips. He kept his forehead pressed to hers, and Marinette thought how familiar it was to feel his breath on her face. Every time they kissed, every time they saved each other from an akuma, every time they danced. He was right-- loving him wasn’t something she had to remember how to do. Loving him was something she couldn’t stop if she tried.

“Chaton?”

“Yes, princess?”

“Will you remind me anyway? After it happens. Will you remind me what our life was like?”

Adrien took her hand and kissed it. “Yes, My Lady. I will never stop reminding you of the honor it has been to love you.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml fics #adrinette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #mine

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

Text

Forget Him (P.JM)

Warnings : partying, mentions of sex, swearing, punching

Synopsis : her relationship with notorious fuckboy Kim Taehyung is over, but she can’t seem to move on. her best friend tells her the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, so she takes his advice. little does she know, he’d do more than just help her get over Taehyung.

Word Count : 3703

When my eyes met his I could feel my heart break all over again. It’s not that I expected to never see him again, we go to the same university. I just didn’t expect to see him with someone new so soon. I thought I meant more to him than that, but he warned me from the start.

“I hope you’re not looking for anything serious.” I looked up from my plate of food, curiousness prevalent on my features, even I could tell without seeing my own face. “I like you, but if you’re looking for serious I’ll just break your heart.” A smile took over my previous curious expression.

“I have thick skin; you’ll have to try really hard to break my heart.” I joked before taking another bite of the food he paid for. “Besides, I’m way too busy with university to be serious.” It was his turn to smile at me and I had to calm my heart. I could do casual, it’s for the best anyway. I don’t need any distractions. But at this point, who am I trying to convince?

I was telling the truth when I said he’d have to try really hard to break my heart. I’d been hurt in the past, it took a lot for me to open up, but it seemed as if he made it his mission to do exactly that. He was perfect, for me and just in general. And the girl currently wrapped up in his arms, smiling up at the man I never meant to fall for, is nothing short of perfect as well. There was no doubt in mind moving on would be easier for him than it would be for me, but did he really have to rub it in my face like that?

“You say you hate the guy and yet you can’t take your eyes off of him.” The familiar sound of my best friend’s voice tore my attention away from the sickeningly sweet couple. He draped his arm across my shoulders and dragged me away from the scene. “You know the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” I playfully slapped him.

“Only you would say that to me.” I shook my head and rolled my eyes. When I met Hoseok, I was immediately drawn to him. He made it so easy to open up to him and to fall for his energy. I’d never gotten close to someone as quickly as I did with him, and for good reason, but he never made me doubt my decision.

“Just come hang out with me and my other friends and stop looking so pitiful.” I rolled my eyes, but I wouldn’t protest to being as far away from Taehyung as possible. “Jimin, Namjoon, this is my best friend Y/N.” He quickly greeted when we approached two guys standing off in their own little world. “Can you watch her so I can go get us drinks?” I wasn’t someone who needed to be watched, but I appreciated the sentiment.

“Any reason you need to be babysat?” Jimin chuckled as he took a sip of his drink. I rolled my eyes at the cockiness that he exuded, so similar to Taehyung’s, but I trusted Hoseok’s judgment of his character and refrained from punching him.

“My ex is here with his new girlfriend.” Could I even call him that? Were we ever actually dating?

“You look stunning.” He said almost breathlessly, reaching out to take one of my hands in his. “How did I get so lucky to have you by my side?” His smile was genuine as he looked down at me, slowly wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

“I should be the one asking that, Tae.” We spoke so softly, as if we were afraid others would hear and pull us out of this bubble we created for ourselves.

“Well we should get going. I have something special planned for our 100th day.” My heart skipped a beat at the thought that he put together something special just for me. If he still wanted casual, he wouldn’t go out of his way for something so minuscule as the 100th day, would he? I didn’t let myself dwell on it too much as got into the car when he opened the door for me. He held my hand the entire drive to what I thought was a restaurant, but instead he stopped by a field. In the distance I could see a small table for two set up, candles adorning the table.

“You did all of this for me?” I asked when we approached the table. I looked at what we’d be eating and saw he had made my favourites.

“You’re my princess, and I wanted to show you that.” We said casual, but neither of us really meant it, did we? I couldn’t help the smile I wore the entire night, looking across the table to see the man I was falling in love with without even realizing it.

“Here, let’s get your party on.” Hoseok placed a red solo cup filled with who knows what in my hand. I thanked him and tried my best to forget everything.

The next morning I could feel the headache before I even opened my eyes. The night came back to me in flashes as I tried to piece together how I could have gotten so drunk. It wasn’t until I felt the bed move as a body next to me rolled over that I wondered just how drunk I was. “God what a night.” He groaned as he opened his eyes and smiled at me. Park Jimin was in my bed staring at me with a smile. “Good morning, angel.” I chuckled at the nickname Hoseok gave me our first year here. We were paired up for a dancing project and he told me I resembled an angel to him when I danced.

“Good morning, Jimin.” I smiled back as the night continued to return in flashes. The images of rough kisses and tossed clothes hit me suddenly. I had to clench my legs as I thought of how the rest of the progressed, suddenly wanting to feel it all again while sober. Hoseok was right, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

“About last night..” Jimin started as he slowly started to sit up, the blanket falling from his bare torso, allowing me a good look, a look I’d remember.

“Want to do it again?” He looked at me with wide eyes before smiling and moving closer to me.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Being with Jimin felt easy. I didn’t have to open up about past heartbreak or try to be a proper lady. We didn’t pretend that we were anything more than fuck buddies. There was no fancy dinners or empty promises. Just take out and crumpled bed sheets. “Let me watch you at dance practice today.” He said as he hovered over me, placing a kiss on my nose. I pushed him off of me as I stood to get ready.

“And why would I do that, Park Jimin?” I made my way to my closet, not bothering to cover my currently nude body with a blanket, it wasn’t anything he hasn’t seen.

“Because Hoseok goes on and on about how hot you look while dancing.” He was soon behind me, his hands on my shoulders as he kissed the back of my neck and slowly made his way around to my lips, bringing me in for a deep, needy kiss.

“Really, Hoseok called me hot?” I didn’t believe that for a second. Hoseok flirted with me in the past, that’s not something we’ve kept a secret. But not once in the three years I’ve known him has he ever called me hot. Stunning maybe. Ethereal definitely. Especially when it came to my dancing. The only person I knew who could beat me in a contest was him, but it would be pretty close.

“Okay so he didn’t say hot per se, but the way he describes you, I need to see it for myself.” I could see the pleading in his eyes and decided to cave to his puppy dog eyes just this one time. What’s the worst that could happen?

“Just this once, but you’re buying food after.” His smile widened as he quickly agreed and helped me pick out an outfit for practice.

I could feel his eyes on me the entire time I was dancing. It almost made me stumble a few times, but I was able to keep my composure as if he wasn’t even there. By the end of practice, Jimin was jumping up from his spot, spewing out about how good it was, trying his best not to let Hoseok in on the fact that we’ve been sleeping together.

“I told you, she looks like an angel!” Hoseok added onto the nonsense that Jimin was spewing. I couldn’t help but laugh and roll my eyes at the two of them. “Don’t laugh when you know it’s the truth. You could make it in the big leagues, I just know it.” I playfully slapped him.

“As much as I love the two of you complimenting me, and trust me I love it, Jimin promised dinner.” I smiled over at him to see he was already smiling at me with a look in his eyes that reminded me of Taehyung.

Six months. We both said it would be casual and that no strong feelings would be involved, but I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t think we’d last this long. I could do casual for a couple of months, but we’ve been together for six months now. Every time I look at him, he’s looking at me with a look in his eyes that reminds me of a lovesick child. It’s the same look I give him, I’m sure.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I let out a little laugh as I covered my face. He reached over and took my hands from my face.

“Because you’re so beautiful.” He kissed me before I could say anything. My heart was threatening to beat right out of my chest, and I could swear he could hear it, but he didn’t say anything. The words were burning in my throat, dying to come out, but I knew that would ruin everything. So I swallowed them down and pretended I didn’t fall absolutely head over heels in love with him.

“Should we text Namjoon to join us? I don’t want him to feel left out.” I pouted at Hoseok and Jimin. Since I met the two of them at the party a month ago, I’d actually grown quite close to them, Jimin more so than Namjoon for obvious reasons, but I’ll be forever grateful to have the two of them in my life.

“As if I didn’t already text him.” Hoseok jokingly rolled his eyes. “I know you love him more than us.”

“Not true and you know that Hobi!” I said as I jumped on his back. His hands immediately wrapped around my legs to stop me from falling. “No one loves me the way you do so you’re my favourite.” I kissed his cheek as I usually do. I could sense the difference in atmosphere after looking over to Jimin who was staring at us with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Still offended I wasn’t invited to watch dance practice.” Namjoon huffed when we met him at the restaurant. I pouted up at him and told him he could come to the next one if he wanted to.

“How did you even convince Jimin to buy you dinner?” Hoseok asked, looking between the two of us. “I’ve known him for years and he’s never offered to buy me anything!” I stifled a laugh at that fact.

“I’m cuter than you, what did you expect?” I joked, wrapping my arms around the arm Jimin had resting on the table. He looked over to me with a wide smile and placed his hand on mine.

“Damn I see how it is. I’m not a pretty girl so I got to buy my own food.” Hoseok shook his head.

“Don’t even pretend like you don’t always buy my food too!” I joked back, unwrapping myself from Jimin as my food was placed in front of me. Just as I was about to dig in, I heard a familiar voice from behind me and I immediately lost my appetite.

“Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here.” He exclaimed with a wide smile and a pretty girl tucked into a side, a different girl than the one at the party. She glared at me with a look that could kill, but I didn’t pay her any mind as my eyes couldn’t move from Taehyung, standing there dressed in all black looking like some sort of god.

“Well I’m here.” I replied, trying my best to hide the hurt in my voice. I couldn’t let him know he hurt me.

“I think it’s time we go our separate ways. This already went on too long.” I blinked back my tears and gave him a smile, telling him I agree.

“We said casual. A one-year anniversary is too serious.” I chuckled as I took a sip of my coffee. “This was fun though. You were a good distraction when I needed it.” He chuckled and shook his head.

“Yeah, you were too. I’ll see you around.” He stood from the table and I watched as he walked away. I just sat there, staring in the direction he left long after he was out of view. After I finished my coffee, I went back to my apartment and stared at the gift on my table. Something I found that would have been perfect for Taehyung. I wasted my money even though I knew it was all casual. I fell in love with a man who didn’t know what love was.

“Why are you standing there like we’re going to ask you to join us?” Hoseok snapped, anger prevalent on his features and I couldn’t help but smile at my best friend.

“Awe come on, we’re friends, right Y/N?” A small laugh came out of my mouth when he said that.

“We’ve never been friends, Taehyung.” Namjoon and Jimin seemed to put two and two together that Taehyung was the ex from the party a month ago. I could see it in the way their faces changed from confusion to anger. Jimin wrapped his arm around me.

“Should we get this to go, love?” He asked me softly. I looked away from Taehyung and met Jimin’s eyes. He seemed to always have an unreadable emotion in his eyes, and I just wish I could read him as easily I can Hoseok.

“No that’s alright, babe.” I played along with the prettiest smile I could muster while Taehyung’s eyes were still on me. “I’m not going to let irrelevant people ruin our good day.” I looked up at Taehyung who rolled his eyes.

“So much for not having time for relationships.” He muttered just loud enough for the table to hear as he walked away, the girl asking him a million questions. I chuckled at his annoyed expression and the way he all but pushed her away.

“You did not tell us that the notorious Kim Taehyung was your ex.” Namjoon said when the two were out of earshot. Jimin removed his arm from around me and just stared at his food while he ate.

“Not something I like to brag about, Joonie. Besides, it wasn’t anything serious.” Hoseok scoffed at that.

“One year isn’t casual, Y/N.”

“You dated him for a year?!” Jimin basically shouted at Hoseok’s words. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

“We weren’t really dating, guys. Really it’s not a big deal.”

“It was a big enough deal that we had to babysit you at that party.” Namjoon added and I rolled my eyes and just let the conversation drop. It wasn’t something I wanted to talk about. Falling in love with Taehyung wasn’t my finest moment, and I’d rather forget we ever had something.

A few days after the incident at the restaurant, I found myself sitting at a café, my drink sitting on the table getting colder as the minutes passed. He was always good at making me wait, and I began to wonder if he was even showing up. After sitting there for almost 30 minutes, I reached for my drink and got up to leave. “Hey! Sorry I’m late.” He ran in, out of breath and sat down across from me.

“It’s not new. I should just stop showing up on time.” I said as monotone as I could.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ll try to be better; I promise.” I furrowed my brows at his words. “I want to try again. I miss us. I was stupid to think things could be casual with you.” I crossed one leg over the other and sat back in my chair, my thoughts a jumbled mess. “I know you’re dating that guy, but I also know that you still love me.” I thought back to Jimin and how he distanced himself from me these last few days. I tried texting him and calling him, but it seemed as if he was ignoring me, ever since he found out about Taehyung.

“I love Jimin.” I told him simply and went to stand when my eyes met Jimin’s, sitting across from a girl who seemed completely oblivious to her surroundings. Taehyung turned to see what I was staring at.

“That asshole.” Taehyung seethed, standing from the table and storming towards Jimin. Jimin stood before Taehyung reached him but that didn’t stop Taehyung from grabbing the collar of his shirt and yelling at him. I knew I needed to stop him before anything else happened, but I was frozen in spot. The other patrons looked on, wondering what was happening at this usually quiet café. It wasn’t until Taehyung threw a punch that I was running over to them and throwing myself in between them.

“Stop!” I yelled as I put my hands on Taehyung’s chest. He looked down at me and his features softened. “It’s okay, Tae. Jimin and I aren’t dating.”

“What?” He asked, looking between the two of us. “But you just said you love him.” I nodded and took one of Tae’s hands.

“I did say that. Let’s go somewhere else to talk.” I turned towards Jimin and the girl he was with. “I’m so sorry. I’ll call you later, please answer.” Jimin just looked at me with tears in his eyes, but I wrote that off as pain from the punch Tae threw. Taehyung and I walked out of the café hand in hand, and it brought me back to the days we were okay.

“Tae can you stop walking so fast.” I said when we were outside. Just as he stopped, I felt another hand wrap around my wrist, and by the way Tae’s eyes widened, I knew it was Jimin before I turned around. When I looked up at him, he let go of my wrist and cupped my face before pressing his lips to mine. The kiss was different than the others we shared. It wasn’t needy or demanding. It was soft and filled with passion. Butterflies filled my stomach, and I couldn’t help but kiss back, my hand dropping from Taehyung’s.

“I love you.” He whispered, hands still cupping my face. I said the words to piss Taehyung off, knowing I couldn’t allow myself to fall more in love with him. I couldn’t get back with him knowing how fast he moved on. Deep down, I knew he just wanted me back because he couldn’t have me. Because I wasn’t letting myself be hurt over his absence.

But as I stared into Jimin’s eyes, I thought back to all the moments we shared, in and out of my bedroom. How he never thought twice about protecting me, without even knowing the truth. The way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. The obvious jealousy at me and Hoseok that I wrote off as awkwardness about Hoseok not knowing about us. How he would always bring me snacks when he knew something was wrong, even at 3 in the morning. He was always there, little by little kicking Taehyung out of my heart.

“Please don’t go to him.” Jimin added when I didn’t say anything, his hands dropping from my face. I turned towards Taehyung, seeing he was just standing there, fuming as he watched us.

“How can you say you love her when you were just in there with another girl?” He yelled, taking a step towards Jimin. I stepped in between them, hoping Taehyung wouldn’t throw another punch.

“How can you say you love her when you’ve been sleeping around since you guys broke up?” Taehyung scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“You don’t know anything.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But I know you don’t deserve her!”

“And you do?”

“Can you two just shut up!” I yelled. “Tae, I don’t want to be with you. There’s nothing between us anymore.”

“You can’t seriously tell me you’re choosing him.” Taehyung took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest.

“My love life has nothing to do with you, not anymore. Jimin, can you please take me home.” I looked up at his bruised face and he nodded, draping an arm across my shoulders and took me away from Tae. “Thank you.” I whispered as we walked. “And I’m sorry. I never thought he’d act like that.”

“I meant it you know. I love you.” He was already looking down at me when I looked up.

“Me too.” I didn’t when I said those words to Taehyung, but I did now.

#forget him #bts #bts imagine #park jimin #park jimin imagine #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years ago

Note

Hello El!!

I bring my exchange info for an matchup. If say creepypasta/marblehornets matchup for this.

So my name is Shay, I go by Whiskey because it's a preference in liquor on my end. I go by they/them pronouns, AFAB and I'm bi and omniromantic, I do have an mild preference for men or masc aligned people. I'm a Libra sun, Virgo moon and Aquarius rising. I'm also introvert (INFJ-A) and I'm constantly sleeply. I do have C-PSTD, Bipolar II and GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder).

I'm Caucasian/White and I stand at 5'9. I have celtic and Danish heritage, My family where vikings. I'm really tall and legs double the size of my torso, as in my thighs are as big as my torso in length, same with my calves. I call myself spider legs because of that. I have this natural like wolf cut going on that is this dark green with my roots be my natural dark chocolate brown hair. My eyes are hazel with gold flecks that shift in color which I found out is normal for people with hazel eyes. I paint my nails black a lot because I find the color pleasing. My build wise is like a rectangle like shape with broad shoulders. I'm pretty strong and I'm proud of my strength. I'm currently starting to get into shape and lose weight so I have fit shape but not like over for. Just the right amount of fat over my muscles. I have a lot of stretch marks,, mostly around my waist and my biceps. I call them my stripes or lighting marks. I have plans to get snake bite piercings and wear like the ring ones in them. I'm getting an tattoo soon that is like this and then I want a burning match tattoo on my color bone. My ears are piercing and I like wearing fake gauges, spirals and then the ratings that have the dangly stuff and cuffs with them. I also wear like those stereotypical hot topic chokers. I wear a lot of long sleeves and skinny jeans, I do like ripped skinny jeans. I also love flannels and black boots like doc martins or converse.

I think you can assume by the statement of me liking whiskey I am the rebellious sort which is true. I have drank a bit and tried weed, I don't do it anymore tho.I have been told if people don't know me and see me from afar I'm intimidating to approach. Even being spooky and intimidating, I promise I'm just a big softie. I usually assume the mom friend of the group with my friends. I always worry about them and make sure they take care of themselves. Sometimes I do it so much I forget to take care of myself. I'm really gentle and compassionate, along with being extremely empathetic. I can be stubborn and bit judgemental at times, mostly working off first impressions myself when getting to know each other. I have an hard time being insertive and putting my foot down with my boundaries, scared to lose people even if the hurt me. I'm an introvert through and through, liking to watch from the back and observe the way things go on around me. I do my best to be an optimist because I can't see the point in see everything wrong in this world, it helps me to see the good. I love going on adventures with my close friends and love being a chaotic bastard with them. My dnd alignment is chaotic neutral and I'm Hufflepuff. I do live by the saying do no harm but take no shit. But I won't hesitate to fight someone for the right causes.

I do always constantly look like I am going to funeral of some sort because I own nothing but black. The color makes me feel really comfortable but it's not my favorite color. My favorite color is green but I like sage green, forest green, mossy green, etc. The earthy greens are my favorites. I have a love for the forest and woodlands, finding a sense of home in the woods. I do love archery and something I'm definitely going to be picking up along with playing the drums. I also smoke herbal cigarettes as well as alternative to smoking.

You know that I often get called a cryptid and at this point, I am just one. Cryptidcore, Midwest Gothic, and Pacific Northwest Gothic are my favorite aesthetics. I have a huge love for cryptozoology (the study of cryptids), parapsychology (the psychic phenomena and other paranormal claims), original creepypasta stories and to be honest anything like spooky and creepy. I want to be a mortician and I'm attending school for that. I also really love the dark, especially if I have some good music blasting through my earbuds. I am a sucker for long road trips and seeing things, filling the adventure heart I have. My favorite animals are coyotes and I also like horses. I like to write a lot as well. My favorite cryptids are The Beast of Bray Road, Not Deer, Jersey Devil and Jacklopes.

Thank you so much and I'm so glad I got a chance to reach out to you. It all started with me wanting to send memes to you and being a little 🌲 anon.

Also here is what the tattoo I'm am getting done looks like ↓↓↓

Your matchup is... Jeff!

Sorry this took me a hot minute, I've been out all day! But here's my part of the exchange :}

In general:

Alright, I read this over and just immediately thought about Jeff, mostly because of your personality!! I have so many things I want to get into and want to say though. SO, let's get right into that.

Things he likes about you:

Physically speaking, as that is how I always start, Jeff really, really loves your height and your legs make him fuzzy on the inside. He just loves it SO MUCH. Your hair is gorgeous, and he's never going to stop wanting to run his fingers through it. Whatever color it's dyed as becomes his new favorite, and he loves seeing your natural hair poke through as well. Your eyes are so gorgeous in his opinion and he finds himself getting lost in them. He thinks your nails being painted black is nice because honestly, he's prone to painting his nails black as well. He finds your body so great!! Wants to hold you and loves feeling new muscles when they get built up. Regardless, he just physically adores you. Your stretch marks are also something he adores as well, and he will fondly call them your tiger stripes and admire them in their entirety. He would love your piercings and the tattoo you want to get. Also really, really loves your choice in jewelry. Chokers are hot in his opinion lmfao. Ripped skinny jeans, flannels, black boots, converse!! just everything about your style works so well with him. And your personality!! That slight rebellious edge am slightly intimidating nature??? PLEASE

General cute stuff:

I feel like the two of you are going to spend some evenings in painting nails. Jeff is slightly touch starved and will absolutely run his hands over your body and just adore everything about you. I can also see Jeff working out with you as well!! He will be your number one supporter regardless of what you're going to be doing. He finds it so sweet that you take care of other people. Jeff also understands you being an introvert, because he's kind of the same way. He would absolutely would hang back with you and just exist. He likes observing as well. However, he also can be a bit of a chaotic guy and will go on adventures with you! Scary places, nature, wherever you want, Jeff will go with you. He'll also read up on fun little places and then go with you. He will absolutely get you green things just because he knows that you like that color. Jeff will also take you on walks in the woods, and he'll also let you wear his clothing!! Jeff actually smokes weed semi-regularly, so while you smoke herbal cigarettes, he's going to be lighting up alongside you as long as you're comfortable. He'd probably like the herbal cigarettes as well. Jeff would love to hear about your love of cryptozoology! He's met so many beings in his life that fit that that he'd just go buck wild being able to tell you about his stories and experiences as well. Parapsychology is also something he'd love to listen from you. He finds you going into the mortician business so incredible, and that you like the dark. Your music?? Please share that with him!!

You two as a couple:

Jeff knows that you are intimidating but so, so sweet. He finds you so admirable and honestly, he needs that kind of caring, loving influence in his life. He finds you being the mom friend of your group super fun and while he's not a dad friend, definitely loves saying things to remind all of your shared 'kids' to listen to you. He wants you to take care of yourself!! He wants you to be kind to yourself!! You being stubborn is something he understands because honestly he can be stubborn. Judgmental? He gets it but honestly might challenge the notion from time to time. He will remind you about boundaries and how important it is to set them. Time to time, he may step in just to help you out. He will also remind you to be assertive, mostly because he would hate to see anyone take advantage of you. Jeff will read up on C-PTSD, Bipolar II, and your anxiety simply so he can be more prepared to help you in any way he can. He deals with some things himself, but he doesn't always know how to handle others. So, he would definitely read up for you and end up becoming your rock when you need it. Honestly, just let him take care of you in his own way. Rough around the edges?? Absolutely. But he's so soft for you. He will help you in any way he can, whether it be weathering the bad days and loving the good ones. Let him adore you.

Closing Thoughts/Other Things:

Hi love bug, or as I will often fondly refer to you as, Dr. Cryptid! I was so happy to read all of this about you. Thank you so so much for sending this in and once again doing mine! I loved reading all about it, and I love talking with you. Thank you so much for that lil pine tree emoji and memes. Also, please take care of yourself!! There's only one of you in the universe and it's so important to love and cherish yourself. It's always okay to say no or know when to bail. Never take care of so many people that you leave all your energy with them and none for yourself. I look forward to our future convos and just friendship in general. As always, let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed!

#jeff the killer #jeff the killer headcanon #creepypasta #creepypasta matchup #matchup #jeff the killer x reader

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frostsinth · 4 years ago

Text

Lost Time - Pt. 1

- MasterList -

Dear Gods; Its been a long time without having an active and open orc story. SIX WHOLE DAYS LORDS! So I decided to rectify that immediately. .. With a new orc story. Sincerely... Me.

I have... 3 open stories now, not including the Reptile Monster One-Shot and the OctoMer One-Shot I was thinking to continue... But I missed my orcs. I need an orc story at all times. So enjoy!!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are my sustenance. Check out my MasterList up there ^^^ to read more of my stuff. Feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you’re there. Oh, and don’t forget to check out my Monster Match Giveaway! Closes 9/4!

DM me or shoot me an ask if you are interested in commissions or have questions!

The pounding in my head wouldn’t reside, despite how long I kept my eyes closed. I squeezed them tighter, finding my hand in the swirling, spinning pain that was my brain, and willing it to come up to palm my forehead. The smell of dirt filled my nostrils as I did, and I managed a groan. What the hell happened?

Last thing I remembered was… well, that was a blur. A foggy shadow clouding my thoughts. At least, what thoughts I could distinguish amid the blinding pain and dizziness.

I laid my head back against… something, and waited. Nothing else to do for it. Hopefully I wasn’t in any immediate peril, or someone was watching over me. My head hurt too much for me to even consider trying to differentiate between the different sounds assaulting my ears.

The minutes ticked by like hours until slowly the throbbing and swirling subsided. There was still a dull ache behind my eyes, and a stabbing pain at the back of my head. But I found the courage to crack open one lid. Blinding light hit me square, but a few timid blinks had it clearing into a smooth wash of emerald green.

Trees, I realized. Or, more specifically, a canopy of leaves with sunlight splashing through them. As my brain took in that realization, it connected the sounds of rustling leaves it had previously dismissed. The smell of dirt now washed with the smell of greenery and bark. Pine, I thought, though I was sure there were others that were less distinct. The general expected rumblings and trappings of the forest filtered through as well; bird song, a squirrel chittering. And someplace distant, branches snapping.

I managed to sit up a minute or two later, but cradled my head in my lap as a fresh wave of dizziness struck me. I breathed in carefully, in through my nose, then out in a rush through my mouth. Felt the pain subside once more like a cool compress to the back of my head to allow me to look around.

As I might have guessed by the trees and birdsong, I appeared to be in a forest. Though I had absolutely no recollection how I got there. I tried to blink and fight my way through the fog in my brain, but the more I did, the less I could recall. And the more the back of my head throbbed.

I reached with tentative fingers, and found a damp patch in my hair near the base of my skull. I jerked at the touch, pulling my hand back to see the tips coated in drying blood. Well, that explained the pain then. Perhaps the memory loss too, if my limited understanding of such things was to be believed. I realized then that my hands were coated in dirt too. Looking down at myself, I found the rest of me equally disheveled. Had I fallen? I glanced around, but I seemed to be in a flat area. No hills. No rocks. I supposed it was possible I had fallen out of a tree, but didn’t seem particularly close enough to any to surmise that. And why would I be climbing a tree?

Had I been struck then? I gingerly touched the wound again, to see if it would yield any more clues. I winced, but managed to trace its edge. It ran about the length of my hand right at the back of my skull. It wasn’t deep, nor particularly wide. And as I certainly was no expert on wounds, or weapons for that matter, I found no reasonable response.

I dropped my hand, defeated, looking around again. Did I know this place? I asked myself. There was no strong answer if I had at some point been familiar with this wood, then again, there was no strong answer that I had never been here before either. Regardless, I found I was happy just to know the words “tree” and “forest”. I honestly otherwise couldn’t say much else about my time in the world. Nor, a few moments of quiet contemplation later told me, did I know where I was supposed to be.

I was surprised how calm I found myself. Looking around, turning things over in my still throbbing head. Trying to piece together the puzzle that was literally everything about me. It was… oddly comforting. The fact that I knew nothing about myself. I knew words, I knew my approximate age, I knew I had blue eyes and blonde hair without checking. And that was all I needed to know for the moment. I wondered if I had been missing patches and holes rather than the blanket of memory that was gone if I would have been more panicked. Because I would have enough reason to be.

Instead, I found my feet, brushing the forest floor off my pants, and looked around again. The sun overhead was bright. So probably about midday, I would hazard to guess. I didn’t seem to have any supplies with me, therefore I reasoned I couldn’t have come from far away. Right? I mean, hopefully I wasn’t the kind of stupid idiot who tended to go wandering deep into the woods without any overnight gear, food, water, or even a coat. But what direction to go? Picking the wrong way could send me further away from help. And there seemed to be no strong indication that one direction would be better than another.

The loud snap of a branch pulled me out of my contemplations and sent a shiver down my spine. I was suddenly reminded of the fact that it wasn’t just birds, squirrels, and myself that existed in the world. There were other, much larger, much more dangerous things as well…

I turned towards the sound, and found the hairs prickling on my arms. Warning me. A memory? No, it didn’t feel familiar. More like instinct. A response to the realization that something large was moving through the underbrush.

Another snap, this time from my left. I spun again, my heart now racing in my chest. I hoped it was just a deer. But not knowing for certain one way or the other put me on edge. I made up my mind quickly. I would head away from whatever was hiding amid the trees. It seemed a pretty safe bet overall.

I turned, practically running as fast as I dared between the trees in the opposite direction of the last snap. Making an effort to make as little sound as possible as I fled. I kept glancing over my shoulder, as if I would be able to tell if whatever had been snapping branches was following me. Which perhaps was not the productive way to move through a dense forest.

This point was accentuated as my foot caught an errant root, sending me blundering through a particularly large bush. And smacking straight into something quite large. I fell back from the impact, landing on my backside with a soft “oof!” My eyes shot to the warm body that I had crashed into.

He was much larger than anything I would have ever expected to see moving amid the loosely packed trunks of the forest. His torso was at least as thick as the largest of the trees, and I wasn’t entirely certain the dark hair piled on the top of his head and spilling down his back was not scrapping the canopy above. I craned my neck back to look up at him, my mouth inadvertently falling open. He had broad shoulders, armored with layered, plated leather whose thick straps ran across his muscled chest. His skin was a deep green, so dark I wouldn’t have been able to identify the color save for the sparks of emerald that flashed as the sunlight brushed over him. He turned to consider me, eyes narrowing beneath a thick, hooded brow. One side of his face was distorted by lighter scar tissue. It was knotted and torn, twisting his lip and eyebrow as it passed from his hairline, over his pronounced brow and temple, all the way down to his chin and thick neck. My eyes widened even more as they moved from his scars to his mouth, where four prominent tusks protruded from between thick lips.

I didn’t need my memory to decide that this was not a creature I wanted to mess with. I scrambled backwards, away from his great, lumbering form as he took one long stride towards me. He lifted a broadsword as big as I was tall as easily as a child might a stick, resting it on one muscular shoulder as he scowled down at me. He towered over me, looking me up and down with a look on his face that made my stomach lurch in fear.

Having seen more than enough, I managed to jump back to my feet and bolted back through the underbrush. I heard something from behind me, perhaps a growl, though it almost sounded like words. I didn’t pause to try to figure it out. Crashing back through the brush. My shoulder hit a tree painfully as I tried to dodge quickly between them, but I didn’t slow. Nor did I care to try and quiet my progression, favoring speed over grace. After all, I reasoned, he already knew I was there. I hoped my smaller size would allow me to navigate between the trees and brush quicker than he could pursue, and my pounding heart insisted that he would.

Once again, I made the fatal mistake of looking over my shoulder. Perhaps I would have learned my lesson had I not still been nursing a throbbing headache. But that was likely wishful thinking; it seemed to be becoming a character flaw. One which I considered heartily as the ground suddenly dropped out unseen from under my feet.

I gave a shout of alarm, then slid and tumbled down the broken ground. It seemed a storm had uprooted the trees, or perhaps it was an ancient riverbed. Either way, my hasty retreat had me careening off its edge and rolling through the dirt once more. I felt my foot catch on something as I fell, jerking me sharply off course. I smashed heavily into a large tree near the bottom of the incline, jarring my already sore head. I closed my eyes in defense against the sudden barrage of pain, my arms having instinctually curled up to protect myself during the fall.

A minute later, I shook my head, clearing it enough to come back to the present once more. My ankle thrummed now too, and a quick jerk found it painfully stuck between two roots. I wrapped my hands around my calf, trying to tug it free. But merely managing to send another wave of pain coursing through me.

I heard and felt the ground shudder beneath monstrous steps, and yanked harder. Barely stifling my cry of anguish at the sharp searing pain that shot through me again. Panicked eyes looked up, and I nearly swooned at the sight of the huge beast standing at the top of the hillock. For his part, he glared down at me for a moment, before bending to catch the edge of the drop in one big hand and jumping down. In that single movement, he had covered half the distance between us.

I struggled against the roots, trying to loosen their hold, my heart racing in my ears. Another stride and he was upon me. I jerked back, unsure if I should try to roll to the side or raise my arms in defense. A puny defense it would be; the man could likely snap through both of them and my spine with one single blow and still sink his sword into the ground behind me up to its hilt.

I jumped in surprise as he dropped down to one knee, tossing the broadsword to the damp leaves beside us instead of bringing it to bare down on my head. His big meaty hands grabbed either offending root, and with a sharp twist and a loud crack, my foot was freed.

I quickly tugged it backward, dragging myself away from his crouching form which still looked like it might be taller than my standing one. But I found the reaction more wary than fearful. After all, had he wanted to harm me, he certainly didn’t have to free my foot first. Perhaps he liked the challenge of an unbound prey? My heart skipped at the thought.

His eyes watched me, still narrowed and darkened by the shadow from his heavy brow. I could see now they were a brilliant copper, and I swallowed nervously as they appraised me. Again came that strange sound. Deep and guttural. Easily mistakable for a growl. But this time, I was sure they were words. I frowned at him, glancing over my shoulder as if checking he was actually talking to me. When I looked back at him, he seemed to be waiting patiently. Though for what, I couldn’t begin to fathom.

I shook my head, unsure what else to do. “I-I’m sorry,” I stammered, “I don’t understand.”

His big head cocked to the side, and his scowl deepened. I ascertained he also did not understand. Though the intelligence in those simmering copper eyes was now unmistakable. I suddenly felt incredibly foolish for being so frightened of him before; of thinking him some mindless monster or beast. I couldn’t help but remain wary though. After all, he could still mean me harm, and even if he was harmless, why had he pursued me? Why not just shrug and go on his merry way? Certainly it couldn’t be completely out of the goodness of his heart to follow up on me. Though, I wondered, perhaps he had been headed this way anyway. And it was simply coincidence he had come upon me again.

His eyes studied me for a moment longer, then he let out a loud snort. I jumped again as he put his hands on his knees and pushed off, straightening back up to his full height. I had had the impression that I was tall, at least of what I could remember (which granted, wasn’t much). But compared to him, I might as well have been a mouse.

Less panicked by his sudden appearance than before, I used the moment to appraise him further. His arms were thick and muscular, as was his exposed abdomen and chest. Despite his broad shoulders, he had a somewhat narrow waist, but his legs were as big as a tree trunk each. He had layered fur armor like a kilt around his hips that reached to his knees, and tough looking boots that seemed ready to break with each flex of his huge calves. Other than the armor, he was adorned with a huge belt around his hips, a small pouch on each side. My attention was once more drawn to the scar that took up most of one side of his face all the way down his neck, and I saw him turn slightly. Presenting more of his better side. As if sensing my eyes on it and seeking to hide the unsightly skin. I swallowed nervously again, not entirely soothed by my fresh assessment.

But he gave a grunt, then made a very obvious gesture that I should follow him. He reached down and picked up the broad sword, resting it on his plated shoulder once more as he looked down at me. It didn’t seem a demand; I certainly could just… refuse. I wasn’t sure if he would stop me, as he waited so patiently, and I felt my twisting nerves abate a little more. I hesitated, glancing around. Yet it seemed as good an option as any, even though the idea of going anywhere with him still made my knees knock together. What were my other options? Wander haplessly about the forest? Perhaps this creature at least could lead me to its edge. Bolstered by that thought, I worked to get my feet back beneath me and moved to stand.

I was promptly back on the ground, clutching my ankle in pain, as soon as I tried. It felt hot to the touch, and I could already feel it swelling. I heard him grunt, and then grumble something in his own tongue. He extended one hand, bending down a little. I glanced at it, unsure what to make of it, and after a moment he slowly pulled it back. I gritted my teeth, gathering my good leg beneath me and carefully standing. Balancing all my weight on one side with my bad foot lifted. One hobbled, hopping step made me realize walking like this was not likely to be an option.

Another hearty growl preceded my soft “eep!” as I suddenly found myself hoisted into the air. My heart alternated between racing and skipping about frantically and my breath caught in my throat as my hands frantically searched for purchase instinctively. They latched to the straps of his shoulder plates, and I felt suddenly hot as I realized how tightly I clung to him. Tense for the fear of being dropped what seemed like quite a long way down and surprised at having been picked up at all. The man’s burly arm cradled me against his chest, as unbothered as if I were less than a feather to him. I didn’t doubt I was, but was unsettled by the proximity of him. He smelled heavily of pine, moist soil, and wood-smoke, as well as his own musky scent, and his skin was warm against me. I felt a flush rising to my face, and my mouth opened and closed useless. But a glance to his face made me realize he wasn’t looking at me anyway.

With surprising speed and grace, he turned and with a single flex of his thick legs scaled up the broken ground. Bringing us back to the top of the crater and reorienting himself to then follow along its edge. Certainly not the direction I had originally been travelling, though I couldn’t be quite sure where that had been. In my flight I had lost all sense of my positioning, and looked around to try and gather my bearings again.

“Where are we going?” I asked him quietly, unable to keep the nervousness from my voice.

I didn’t expect him to answer, and he didn’t, but it made me feel better to ask anyways. He carried me quietly with one arm, his other hand still holding the broadsword tucked against the shoulder opposite me. I wrung my hands nervously over the straps, feeling his skin brush against my knuckles lightly as I did. Perhaps he was bringing me back to civilization. I was certain he would do so quickly if that was an option, as he didn’t seem eager for my company based upon the deep scowl still on his face. It made the knots of his scar seem more prominent, and deepened the lines. Again, he turned as if he felt my eyes on it. The other side of his face suggested that perhaps he was not very old, not yet middle aged from what I could tell. Certainly an adult, though I had no basis for standards of what that would mean in regards to… whatever he was. I wondered if it was my lack of memory that I had no name for such a green skinned behemoth. Or if perhaps I simply had no experience or knowledge of them. The speed of my pulse suggested the latter, and there was certainly no familiarity about him.

A small, amused part of me wondered if we were of the same race. Perhaps I had just forgotten the gender dysmorphia due to the knock on my head. Which would make my actions prior seem quite ridiculous indeed. It almost made me smile to think that he was just a typical male, and I was the one acting the fool. Which led me to wondering if he found me attractive, and what exactly he meant to do with me.... I quickly pushed the notion aside, as it sent blood rushing to my already throbbing head and brought some sinful thoughts to my own consideration of him. Not to mention the improperness of him cradling me against his half bare chest if that were the case. He didn’t seem very interested in me though, other than a mild, annoyed concern for my existence. Perhaps escorting lost people was simply his job; maybe this happened to him all the time, which was why he seemed so familiar with the proximity.

I resolved to try not to worry too much, as I didn’t have much control over it anyways. The light between the trees was beginning to fade, suggesting a fast approaching night. And given the state of my ankle, I wasn’t exactly in a position to be traipsing off by myself again. Even if I did have some sense of where to go. The conscious decision was not enough to slow my heart though, and my breath still came in nervously shallow wisps.

My hopes that he would bring me to civilization (or at least someone who spoke the same language) were dashed after a long quiet walk as we approached what appeared to be a campsite. It was more permanent than that, I realized, based upon the perimeter of spiked sticks and the separate smoking and tanning racks set beside a stone fire pit. There was a cave, formed amid a copse of dense trees and a prominent pile of rocks. It didn’t look particularly deep, but it was tall enough that the man likely wouldn’t have to bow his head much to service it. A thick fur was pulled back from the entrance like a curtain, and I could make out dark piles of things beyond. A house? I reasoned. Shelter at least, and with night almost upon us, it seemed as good a place as any.

He stomped through the small opening between the makeshift wall, and deposited me unceremoniously next to the fire pit. I opened my mouth to try to communicate with him again as I released the straps of his armor, but he was already off. Gathering logs from a huge pile beside the cave. He set his sword to lean against the rock and brought over an armful of the wood. Dropping it into the pit and crouching down. He drew a flint stone from somewhere beside the fireplace, and with a handful of dried leaves gathered from within reach, he quickly had a smoking flame beneath the pile.

I listened to the sound of the crackling and snapping build as the fire sparked. Watched it lick and bite at the first log hungrily. He bent low to blow some air onto the glow, fueling it’s growth.

“Excuse me,” I braved politely as he leaned back. His copper eyes turned to consider me at the words, even though his frown suggested he still didn’t know them, “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but ah… what are we doing here?”

He watched my lips move, and his own thick lips scrunched together around his large tusks. He appeared to chew at the inside of his cheek, then shook his head and grumbled something in that foreign tongue. No luck then. Still not understanding each other. I sighed quietly, reaching down and rolling up my pant leg to take a better look at my ankle. I removed both of my shoes, rubbing my hand carefully over my foot and joint.

It was painfully swollen now, and I winced as I touched it. I didn’t suppose I was in enough pain for anything to be broken, but knew (somehow) that a sprain could be as bad as any break if not treated properly. I started slightly as the big man grunted and rose to his feet. I watched him out of the corner of my eye moving near the cave entrance, and glanced up at him as he came back over to my side. He dropped down to his knee again, and swatted my hands gently away with one of his. Surprised but wary, I leaned back. I jerked as a cold cloth dropped around my ankle, and I drew in a thin breath as his big fingers slowly eased it to wrap around my joint. A particularly rough movement had me instinctively grabbing at his hand in pain to stop him. I froze as his copper eyes jumped to my face and his movement paused. We stayed like that for a moment, until I couldn’t hold his curious gaze and dropped both my eyes and my hand from his. He began wrapping the cool cloth again shortly after. But I noticed he moved more gently, more cautious of the tenderness of it. He leaned back when he finished to admire his own handiwork.

He said something else in the strange, guttural tongue, then glanced at me again from the corner of his good side. I offered him a weak, thankful smile. Hoping the meaning would get across. He gave a grunt, shaking his head and standing once more.

As he went back to the cave, I was glad for the heat from the fire. The night was quickly forming around us; lengthening the shadows of the trees and bleeding the color from the forest. And with it came a chill that threatened to reach my bones. I eased a little closer to the flames, listening to him rustling amid his things in the cave.

He returned not long after, a piece of rolled up paper in his hands. He showed it to me as he crouched down next to me again, then swept one palm across the ground to clear away leaves and debris. Spreading out the parchment, he grunted again, gesturing to me then the page. I leaned over, frowning, until the dark lines and shapes registered to me.

“A map.” I exclaimed, understanding.

Another grunt, and he pointed to me with one big finger. Then to the map. Speaking in his own language. I looked down at the lines and ridges. I saw mountains and forests and rivers neatly marked. I could identify the names of each of these things, as well as the labels for what appeared to be villages and towns. But a pang of disappointment hit me as I realized I didn’t recognize any of it.

I looked up at him, waiting for me patiently, watching my face. He frowned as I shook my head, and I tried to look as apologetic as possible. He pointed to me again, then the map. I shook my head again, and he growled something in his language. I supposed perhaps he was getting frustrated. I sighed, disappointed, shaking my head a final time. Trying to figure how to explain to him that I wasn’t stupid (at least as far as I knew); I just couldn’t remember anything. He seemed to be getting increasingly impatient, and I shifted nervously as he gestured with one hand almost angrily at me.

He seemed to notice my unease as his mannerisms became more intense, and stilled himself. Instead, sitting back on his ankles and rubbing the back of his neck. His movement reminded me, and I reached my own hand back, touching the still throbbing, tender spot at the base of my skull. I winced, but found the dampness again and pulled my blood stained fingers around. I held them up in the firelight to show him, trying to look appropriately apologetic again.

His copper eyes widened slightly and his thick brows raised. He scooched closer and leaned his big bulk over me. His shoulders were so broad, I felt as though a ceiling had been drawn over my head. I drew in a sharp breath as he reached out and caught my chin in one big palm. His hands were huge, each one bigger than my face, and rough to the touch. But despite the firmness of his grip, he moved gently. Turning my head to the side and down. He spoke as he moved, and the tone was softer. Soothing, almost. I felt the fingers of his opposite hand brush through my hair, and my skin tingled on my neck. I resisted the urge to wince as his thumb brushed the tender flesh around the wound. His nostrils flared and I heard him draw in a huffing breath.

He grumbled, releasing his hold and sitting back on his ankles again. I glanced up at him to see him rubbing at his chin, seeming to be thinking it over. He turned back to the map, and pointed to a forest there. Then gestured to around us, before pointing back at the same spot. I leaned closer, studying the area to see if anything sparked a memory. I couldn’t help feeling a little sad as well as disappointed as I had to shake my head again. I ran my fingertips over the spot, trying to concentrate, my brow furrowing. But my head merely throbbed with the effort, and I reached up with my opposite hand to palm my eye in an attempt to ease it.

I started as his big hand swallowed up my wrist, pulling my hand away from my face. I looked up at him again, swallowing nervously. But despite the heavy set curl of his brow and the deep grooves of the scarred half of his face, I decided he didn’t look too frightening right then. And I realized he never really had been. Every movement and gesture had been slow and careful. Every touch had been gentle... and kind. I had looked at him the first moment I saw him and scared myself, but he had never once given me a reason to justify that fear. He growled something I didn’t have a hope of understanding, then released my wrist to brush his fingers through my hair, pushing it back out of my eyes.

He froze suddenly, his big fingers lingering by my temple. I looked back and forth between his copper eyes, as he seemed to consider something he saw in mine. I saw him shuffle, then clear his throat. He mumbled something else in his language, then turned his head to the side. His long hair fell about his shoulders and I let out my breath as he dropped his hand. He cleared his throat again. Then planted his palm against his chest and gave a hearty grunt.

“Njord’roshan.” He rumbled. I looked at him in surprise. He smacked his breast. “Njord’roshan.” He said again, firmly.

“Neeyord-ro...?” I echoed uncertainly.

He nodded, cocking his head to the side and chewing his lip. Then smacked his chest again. “Njord.” He offered instead.

I smiled slightly as I realized his intent. “Oh! That’s your name. Njord.”

He grunted, nodding his big head as he recognized my understanding. Then gestured to me. I winced, and my face must have fallen again, because he titled his head slightly. Looking at me from the corner of his good side. I shook my own head, giving a little shrug of my shoulders.

“I-I don’t know…” I told him, the realization hitting me then as my hand went instinctively to the back of my skull.

I dropped my eyes to the side, feeling a strange emotion welling in me for the first time since I had woken in the forest. It was… hollow. As if everything about me was wrong. As if I was somehow out of place; a missing piece in time. It made me feel almost suspended from the moment, like the body I was in wasn’t mine. I didn’t even have a name...

Perhaps it was this strange, ethereal concept of myself that kept me from starting as his hand came up again. Brushing thick fingers lightly along the edge of my jaw. His language came from his wide mouth again, and I strained my ears, longing to understand him.

It was a long string of the guttural words, thick and heavy. But softly spoken from between his thick lips, and I watched them move to form each sound. He tucked his knuckles lightly under my chin, and the corners of his lips curled upwards slightly. I found his touch oddly comforting then, and had to fight myself not to reach up and run my fingers over his knuckles. Even as my hands itched to do so. I felt a lump forming in my throat, and tried to swallow it away as my heart skipped a beat.

“Shikobakin.” He told me after a moment’s silence, tapping my chin with his thumb. His lips twitched at the corners again, and he brought his hand to his chest. “Njord’roshan... Njord.” Then reached back out, touching the tip of his large index finger back to my chin. “Shikobakin.”

I returned his smile, though it felt heavy by the time it reached my eyes. “Did you just name me?” I asked, my voice peppered with a hint of amusement.

I thought his returning expression might have been a small smirk, and his copper eyes seemed to glimmer. He patted his chest once more. “Njord.” Then tapped my chin again. “Shikobakin.”

I placed my hand on my own chest. “Shikobakin.” I echoed the strange word, but it felt warmer as I accepted it as my own. I smiled, then reached out and lightly touched his chin with the tips of my fingers, as he had mine. “Njord.”

He stiffened slightly at my touch, and his copper eyes darted down to my hand. He brought his own big hand up, wrapping it around and engulfing my tiny pale one. The big beast gave a pleased sounding grunt, soft and distracted, nodding as he gently pulled my hand from his face. He shifted, angling his head to the side. Turning his scar away again.

After a breath too long, he released my hand, then brought his pinched fingers to his mouth. “Di’chin yiya?” He asked softly, miming eating and patting his stomach.

He didn’t wait for an answer, standing and going over to the smoking rack. He returned a moment later, holding out a large piece of meat to me as he dropped back down next to me. I took it gingerly, offering him a small smile. Our fingers brushed as I took it, and I thought I saw him stiffen. But it must have been my imagination. After all, why would a small little human make such a big creature anxious.

I sniffed at the meat, taking a small bite. I quickly recognized it as fish, and seemed to find I liked it. I smiled up at him as I chewed, pleased I had learned at least two things about myself now. I had a name. And I knew I liked smoked fish. I saw his brows raise slightly as he considered me, and again he turned his head slightly to the side.

We finished the smoked meat in companionable silence, watching the fire bite and lick at the logs. I shivered as the darkness fully settled around us, and hunched up my shoulders against the chill of the night. My ankle and head throbbed in an offset rhythm, and I felt my eyes growing heavier with each passing minute. Especially as the salty fish settled in my stomach.

He passed me a waterskin, which I drank from thankfully. When I lowered it back down, I noticed him watching me from the corner of his copper eye. I couldn’t read the expression on the untouched side of his face, but felt a strange tickling in the pit of my stomach that had me turning my attention to my bare feet. I shuffled them and shifted, kneading the skin gently between my palms before passing it back to him. He cleared his throat, placing the skin to the side. Then smacked his hands together and moved to a crouching position next to me.

He spoke more of his language, jerking his big head towards the cave. I looked up at him, surprised to find his hands reaching out to me. Waiting. I barely nodded my permission before he quickly scooped me back up in his arms and carried me over to the shallow cave. His chest brushed my shoulder, and I found his skin pleasantly warm after the chill of the night. I couldn’t help leaning into him slightly, even as my heart skipped in my breast.

The cave was too dark for me to see, but he seemed untroubled by it. The air tasted damp, though slightly warmer than the outside air. He moved purposefully, bringing me to what I could make out as the far back wall before crouching down once more. I started slightly as he lowered me into something soft and plush. A moment later, I recognized the furs for what they were, and shuffled amid them. I felt his big hands come around, dragging what appeared to be more furs and blankets, making a pile near the foot of the bed. Gingerly, he took my injured ankle and rested it on the elevated lump. I could barely make out his silhouette in the dark, but saw him reach out. Felt his hand brush my cold shoulder. He muttered something, then pulled more furs to wrap around me.

“Thank you…” I told him softly as his motions quieted.

His face turned towards me in the dark, and I tried to trace its outline. I couldn’t see his features, but imagined he must be peering back down at me. I felt a sudden bolt of electricity shoot down my spine as I wondered where he was going to sleep. My stomach twisted at the thought that perhaps we would share the furs…

After a moment though, he leaned back, giving a pleased grunt.

“Wet’hay tlee, Shikobakin.” He breathed, and I found his deep voice a pleasant comfort in the dark. I watched him stand, then turn and head back towards the cave opening.

“Goodnight, Njord.” I called softly after him. I saw him pause in the entrance, his huge, burly body carved out from the night air by the orange glow of the fire. His head turned, glancing over his shoulder at me. “And.. thank you again…”

I knew he couldn’t understand me, but I hoped he understood at least the meaning. He didn’t give a response, and after lingering a moment longer, walked back over to the fire. I couldn’t quite see him anymore, and relented to burrowing a little deeper into the furs.

The motion kicked up their scent, and I was suddenly washed in the deep odor of pine, wet earth, and wood-smoke. And another scent, one I had smelled on him each time he had carried me, though the musky, masculine smell was stronger here. My heart leapt again as I realized that I was, in fact, in his bed. A pang of guilt shot through me. I hoped he would not think me an imposing guest. I certainly would have been fine with just a mat and a fur in the corner. Though the memory of the chilly night air had me pulling the furs tighter about myself in denial of that silent offer.

I brushed the soft fur against my nose, drawing in his thick scent. It soothed me, strangely, and my eyes felt heavier. Warm and feeling better than I ever had in what little time I could remember (which surmounted to that one day), I snuggled down. A few minutes later, I was fast asleep.

...

To Be Continued

#monster x human #terato #exophilia #orc x human #orc lover #orc boyfriend #slow burn #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster romance #orc romance #Lost Time #oc #new story

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faustrinus · 4 years ago

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Warm

* Drarry (TW: mentions of blood and injuries). This is my second time posting this haha I am sorry. “Bloody hell, Potter.”

Harry lifted his head, staring at the blood pooling from his torso, “Yeah, it’s really bloody,” he agreed, “in case you couldn't tell.”

“This is no time for jokes, you git!” Draco rushed over, fumbling for his wand. “What did you do?”

Draco staunched the bleeding with a flick of his wrist and sighed, trying to assess the damage. How did I end up here? He asked himself for the hundredth time. Finding your Auror partner bleeding out on your driveway should be a strange sight, but it was one that Draco was all too familiar with.

“Where is the injury?” he asked, siphoning the blood off the ground with his wand.

“'m fine,” Harry slurred, mumbling something incoherent under his breath.

“Bullshit, where is it?”

Harry huffed. “Torso. Right side.”

The injury was starting to bleed again, so Draco didn't waste any more time. The slash across his ribs had torn a hole in Harry’s robes, so Draco used his hands to widen the hole to get a better look at the area. By now, the blood was pooling again- and the way Harry was squirming like a fish out of water was making it worse.

“Stop moving!” Draco snapped, using his hands to press on Harry’s ribs.

“It hurts.”

“I know, but it will hurt a lot more if you keep moving. Just listen to me for once in your bloody life.”

“Fine, just-” Harry gestured with a limp hand. “try and make it quick.”

Are you really in the position to be bossing me around? Draco shook his head, trying to remain calm. Healing was easier when you were calm, and Draco needed a steady grip on his wand for this to work.. He couldn't let Harry die, not like this.

Draco pointed his wand at the wound, forcing his arm to stop shaking as he began muttering an incantation that made Harry wonder if Malfoy was singing to him at that moment by the tone every word was pronounced, the wand tracing the long injury slowly, it seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing, coming from some knowledge buried deep down in his memory. The flow of blood got slower and there was less, provoking a breath of relief from Draco, the spell was repeated one more time before the wound started to knit itself, making Harry flinch in discomfort for the suddenly burning sensation in the area. At least he's alive. “Now that you're not dying, could you tell me what on Merlin's beard happened here?”

“Thieves. They were trying to get into your house.”

“Potter. While I appreciate the concern,” and Draco coughed to hide the fact his heartbeat was louder than he expected it to be, “I am, in fact, fully able to defend myself.”

“Even without magic? The Ministry wouldn't like knowing you performed magic in front of muggles.”

“I would have managed.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“That doesn't matter. Why were you outside of my house?”

Harry tried to shrug, wincing from the movement and biting back a whimper, “I was just checking on you.”

“Checking on me? Why?”

“I haven't seen you at work in a few days. I wanted to find out if something happened to my partner.”

My partner. Draco was thankful that the streetlights were dim enough that this blush was hidden. "Luckily, it seems like no one saw anything," Draco changed the subject, "so if you could get up-" Draco cut himself off as he got a better look at Harry's face. "Is that a black eye?"

“Ehm.. yes?” Harry prodded at his eye, “I think so.”

“You think so?”

“Well, I dunno, you're the one who can see me,” Harry grumbled, he made no move to get up.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. Did Harry have any survival instincts? He'd survived dozens of harrowing situations- both during and after Hogwarts- and yet here he was, bleeding and bruised on Draco's driveway. If Harry always acted like this when his life was at stake... it was a wonder that he hadn't been killed yet.

“Come on, let's get you inside," Draco sighed, "before someone sees.”

“You didn't mind that earlier. When I was drowning on my own blood.”

“That's because I wasn't interested in your blood staining my best rug, Potter," Draco said dryly, "besides, your life is a little more important than the Statute of Secrecy.”

“Thanks for that, I think. Can't wait to see your fancy rug.”

Draco huffed and slipped an arm under Harry's back to help him sit, cringing inwardly at the blood that soaked through his robes. He just needed to get Harry inside and make sure he wasn't about to die- and then he could worry about the states of his clothes. “I think I'm okay,” Harry grunted, relying heavily on Draco to stand.

“Careful,” Draco said sharply, “the wound is only knitted. It'll still hurt. “

”'m fine,” Harry insisted, but he let Draco wrap his arm around his waist anyways, "What about my glasses?”

“Draco cast his eyes to the ground, but he couldn't see anything in the darkness. “I'll find them later." he said.

Harry nodded and shuffled forward, and he would have fallen over if it wasn't for Draco supporting nearly his entire weight.

“You alright?” Draco asked tentatively.

“Yeah,” Harry grimaced, "doesn't hurt so bad."

Draco nodded, pretending not to notice the way Harry was gritting his teeth. He resolved to use a pain relief spell as soon as they were inside.

They both started walking towards the black door that opened itself with a flick of Draco's wand. Harry felt a wave of warmth envelop him as they passed the threshold, like a welcoming hug for his shivering body. From the outside, Draco's house looked like it'd be similar to what time ago was the Malfoy manor, but on the inside, it was the total opposite. Rugs covered the dark wood floor under each piece of furniture, and despite the monochromatic (green, of course) colour scheme, it was still very home-like.

“Your house is much nicer on the inside," Harry said, trying to fill the awkward silence.

“I have a lot of wards to keep things warm,” Draco explained, slowly guiding Harry to the sofa, "mostly for when winter comes around since I'm generally a pretty cold person.”

Harry huffed a laugh, “cold, as in personality or…”

“Right, that too, Potter.” Draco rolled his eyes.

The candelabrum hanging above the living room was what reminded Harry the most of the Malfoy manor, with its expensive design and sparking metal accents. The sofa that Draco lead him was clearly expensive, too- and there was a certainly reason for its price. Harry sighed with relief when his body hit the soft cushions. It even smelled good- he sighed deeply as mil citrus scent- Draco's scent- surrounded him.

“I like your sofa,” Harry murmured.

Draco arched an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile, "I noticed," he said, rolling up his sleeves, and kneeling on the ground next to the sofa, "You look like a mess."

Harry tried to laugh, but he felt dizzy instead- like the world had stopped for a moment before getting back on route. His eyelids dropped, and the last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the worried expression across Draco's face. “Potter, stay here.” And then everything went dark.

...............

When Harry woke up he felt weak, the type of weakness where you move a little and your body sends a big alarm reminding you you're going to faint if you try to move a lot. It was annoying to feel so useless when there was probably someone out there needing his Auror services.

Well, the good thing was that he did faint once, so it wasn't that probable for him to do it again. And seeing how the wound was already recovering thanks to what seemed like Draco healing abilities, Harry's spirits lifted up, it looked so much better and it also didn't hurt half as much. It was a really well-done work.

But of course, his muscles were still aching like he had run some type of marathon.

“You're awake.”

His eyes tried to focus, but it was hard when his classes were nowhere to be able to reach them, “Did you get my glasses?”

“Good morning to you too, Potter. And yes, yes I did,”

“Morning...?” Harry mumbled, looking around for a window to check if it was truly a new day, “How much time did I sleep?”

“Like fourteen hours? It was a lot. I don't know how you can sleep so much.”

Harry yawned and looked at Draco, who was sitting on the ground next to him, a blanket covering his legs- it wasn't really clear, but Harry could see the pillow laying on the floor and the rug wrinkled under it. Connecting all the dots was easy.

“You slept on the floor?”

“Yes, I stayed to make sure you didn't die in your sleep.”

“Sweet,” He answered rolling his eyes, “Thanks. You are very good at healing.”

Draco searched for Harry's glasses and handed them over to him, they were shining clean and looked more new than ever, “I fixed and cleaned them. They probably broke when one of the … assholes yesterday hit you.”

“You're acting very nice to me,” He started putting on his glasses, “Is it because I almost died?”

Draco ignored the comment and cracked his knuckles softly, his gaze noticing how messy Harry's hair got. It was cute seeing it sticking out in different positions and falling in a funny way on the man's face, “You were saying I'm good at healing?”

“Oh, yes. You are, the wound almost doesn't hurt anymore.”

“I'm glad. I had a lot of practice, I guess I became good without noticing.” Harry knew exactly what he was talking about- the whole sectumsempra thing. He knew Draco could not have healed himself that time because of how badly injured he was at the time, but he assumed he had to learn how to treat his own wounds after it happened.

“I'm sorry about that.”

Draco tilted his head, “Sorry about what?”

“The whole... “ Harry coughed, “curse thing.”

“Oh.”

“You weren't talking about that?”

“Not necessarily. But I guess it came to my mind now that you say it.”

Harry tried to make himself more comfortable to carry on the conversation, shifting around the couch, “Did it… leave scars?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Knowing if I left some mark on you thanks to how irresponsible my actions were is something I deserve to know. Right?”

“You want to make sure you have reasons to feel guilty?”

“Yes.”

“Potter…” Draco tried to convince him subtly to change the subject, but Harry was a stubborn bastard and he was about to start complaining again if Draco didn't tell him, “Yes, it did. Only one though, It wasn't healed fast enough I'm guessing..”

“I'm really sorry...Draco,” Harry tried to sit correctly, groaning when he felt a pull to the side due to the wound, “Can I see it?”

“What makes you so interested? I don't get it.”

“I don't really know. I guess…. to make sure you're okay?”

Draco couldn't help but laugh a little, “It was years ago. Why wouldn't I be okay?”

But Harry was still staring at him to what looked like his attempt of puppy eyes- how old was he again? ten?

“Please.”

“Just because you almost died doesn't mean now you get everything on a silver plate.”

“We haven't seen each other in a long time. As Aurors we need to have a bond.”

He really wasn't giving up.

“Fine.”

Draco mumbled something and grabbed his wand that was laying next to him and muttered some spell. It took a few seconds for Harry to see it, there was a long scar going up from his neck to what it seemed down his chest. It wasn't really striking, but it was noticeable at a close distance. That's why Draco used a glamour charm- they were always working side to side, Harry would have already noticed and asked about it.

“It reached your neck? Merlin, it had to hurt a lot.” Draco denied softly and sighed, maintaining the charm drained his energy sometimes, “It's okay. Stop worrying about stupid things.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “I almost killed you. It's not stupid.”

“I think we can both agree it's too early to talk about this, Harry.”

Harry grunted but nodded anyways, letting himself relax a little. You almost die a few times and you get all sappy he thought, brushing the thoughts away. They stayed in silence a few seconds, and Harry could sense how his heart was beating a little bit faster than usual- how was he still paranoid after what happened yesterday? It was Draco's house, both of them were there, it was safe. Yet he still could hear his heartbeat bouncing around like it was a goddamn party in his chest.

“You know… Now it's my second bad memory with a knife, not really fond of them.”

“Well, I'm glad. I would be worried if you were fond of them.”

Harry giggled softly, making Draco smile a little when he saw he had enough strength to do it. “Well, what was the first memory?”

Draco decided to get up, stretching his legs while Harry was getting ready to say whatever he was thinking about. His eyes were squinted as he searched for the memory probably already forgotten, but when the light hit his eyes Draco saw it- he remembered.

And Harry swallowed, because he actually did not want to remember it. He was trying to keep an interesting conversation, but he had exposed himself without noticing.

“I remember that when I was living with my… The Dursleys, a lot of things happened, to be honest,” Harry started, trying to ignore Draco's stare, “clearly, they weren't the nicest people on earth. I remember this one time where I was cooking and my Aunt Petunia told me she would chop off my fingers if I messed up.”

“What?”

“It's not a big deal. But for some reason it stayed in my mind after all these years.”

Draco felt himself getting angry, “How old were you?”

“I don't remember. Seven? maybe eight.”

“Merlin's beard,” Draco eyes got wide, “You were a child, Harry, of course it stuck with you. And who in their right mind makes a seven-year-old cook?”

“I thought every kid had to do it. And I assumed Dudley didn't because well… he was their son.”

“And what were you? their servant?”

Harry shrugged, “I don't know. Something amongst those lines.”

Draco huffed, playing with the rings that adorned his fingers, “It sounds horrible.”

“But here I am,” Harry tried to play it off, but it was noticeable the subject was affecting him somehow, “all okay.”

Draco nodded and they stayed in an uncomfortable silence until he yawned, gaining Harry's attention- if he slept like fourteen hours, how many did Draco?

“...Did you sleep the same amount as me?”

“I can't hibernate like you, Potter.”

“So… you didn't sleep at all?”

“I slept a reasonable amount.”

Harry patted the empty space next to him, “How much is a reasonable amount?”

Draco hesitated a bit before slowly sitting next to the man- he would notice he was looking a bit tired. Well, it wasn't easy looking extremely bright when you spent most of your night making sure The Chosen One didn't die on your couch.

“...two hours.”

“What? Why? two hours is nothing. How are you even alive?”

“I have survived with less, thank you very much,” and with that the conversation was done, of that he thought until Harry tugged on his sleeve a little bit stronger that Draco could have expected, making him fall against Harry's body, he blushed instantly, pushing, “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you get some sleep.”

“And you are planning to hold me?”

Harry yawned, “Yeah, pretty much,” he tugged again, making sure Draco stayed laying on top of him comfortably, “C'mon. Sleep.”

“I'm not your dog, Harry.”

“Then stop barking and get some sleep with me.”

Draco tried to push again, but Harry was holding him strongly. If he wanted to, he could have used a spell to get free of his grab- but it was rather comfortable to lay there. For a recently injured person, it was surprising Harry wasn't complaining about how he was closely brushing his wound, “What about the wound?”

“It's okay. It doesn't hurt.”

Draco accommodated himself, “If one Auror knows we…”

“Cuddled until we fell asleep?” Draco nuzzled his face into Harry's neck “Yes, that. If one Auror knows that, I'm going to hex you.”

“Sounds like a deal. Good night.”

“How are you still sleepy?”

Harry was already closing his eyes, “I save my tiredness in a little box in my brain and then I set it free.”

“Dumbass.”

“Sleep.”

At the end, Draco stopped trying to ignore the idea. “Fuck it,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and letting his head rest on Harry's chest, hearing his heartbeat.

“Draco..?”

“Oh, wow. Now you're the one interrupting my sleep.”

“It's not that.”

“Then what?”

“You lied to me about something.”

“...What?”

“You're actually warm.”

“I don't understand.”

“You're warm,” Harry repeated, sighing, “I like it.”

Draco rolled his eyes, but the faint smile drawn on his lips couldn't lie.

Maybe being warm wasn't that bad when Harry Potter was cuddling you.

#drarry #dracomalfoy #harrypotter #HarryxDraco #drarryoneshot #drarryfanfiction #drarryfanfic #dracoxharry #harryjamespotter #gay #LGBTQ PRIDE

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hornsandthings · 4 years ago

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solemn steppes

pairing: cassian (ACoTaR) x reader

summary: reader, a student of cassian’s defence training in the illyrian mountains, has a bad session. after, when he checks up on her, cassian is given an intimate reminder on how bleak and cruel illyrian life can be. angst and fluff.

note: agh, i got really stuck on this one and i think i’m a bit rusty. i tried, but decided to just get it out there hehe. i hope cass is somewhat in character... haven’t read ACoTaR in ages (something i should remedy...) // wc: 1771

+++

the illyrian mountains were certainly beautiful – misty mornings and pale sunlight. you knew, however, that this majesty was only a surface quality. what the visitor often overlooked were the frozen animal husks, the dry tundras, the abandoned hamlets. the snow was not white, not for you or any other illyrian. it was discoloured, the purity corrupted with mud, blood, piss. there was no peace here; the winds sang no lullabies.

the cacophony of the village rivalled that of the thunderstorm in the distance – the blacksmith was busy hammering away at some forged steel, a brawl was brewing, and cassian’s students were training.

you grunted as your sparring partner pushed you to the ground, limbs too weak to defend. her wings flared wide as she straddled your torso, frustration evident in her furrowed brow as her hands encircled your neck.

you clutched at them, barely keeping away the choking grip. every muscle was on fire, vision hazy with dizziness. training had only just reached its midpoint, but already a headache was pounding against your skull, making you slower, making you weaker. from the very beginning it had been a poor match; today you just couldn’t hold your ground. your blocks weren’t strong, your counters slow.

as you lay there, trapped, snow soaking through to chill your bones, you bit back tears - it shouldn’t be like this. you were older than the other students, had better control and movement. but your meat stocks had spoiled prematurely, the wind had battered the hinge of your cabin door, and screams in the night had you sleeping with one eye open.

but it wasn’t only this week. things had only gotten worse for you for some time, and cassian’s training had been the only reprieve. the opportunity to do something purely for yourself was liberating, and there was safety in the feeling of getting stronger. cauldron - you were even good at it; a rare thing. there was this, but also cassian. focused and particular - this was how he held himself during training, upholding that hard earned title of general of night’s armies. but sometimes he revealed a different side of himself, one that was funny, kind, and so very genuine. for the first time in your life you wanted to impress a male, and pushed yourself every session to do so.

but now, as you did everything wrong, you felt so useless. how could you ever believe you could be strong, if you couldn’t even feed yourself? you reached out, pawing blindly at your partner.

“elbows by your ribs,” cassian was saying, voice nearing as he knelt closeby. you tried, oh how you tried, but your mind had become so muddled with exertion that you couldn’t comprehend the meaning.

and finally her hands grabbed your throat, thumbs pressing down and soon you were choking, the little breath you had snatched so swiftly—

stop – the word was on your tongue, but all that came out was a wheeze. you clawed at her shoulder, the other clutching her wrist – but sweat made it slip, and then she was clenching her jaw, and then everything was burning—

“enough. enough! she’s trying to tap out—”

the weight lifted and the looming shadow vanished, but still you felt you were drowning. hoarse coughs wracked your body, and soon cassian hauled you up. “hey, look at me. are you alright?”

you squeezed your eyes shut. his big hands rested on your shoulders, and you used that to try to ground yourself, to focus on anything besides your seizing lungs or roiling stomach. cassian said your name once again, soft and intimate, like those few times where he could find you outside training sessions. you shook your head, giving him a weak shove before vomiting onto the ground. you spluttered, a bitter taste left in your mouth.

“for cauldron’s sake,” one of the students muttered, her sentiments echoed by others. you squinted up at the onlookers that had assembled, looks of scorn on their faces. honestly, you could understand why, and didn’t even care when tears escaped.

cassian sighed, grumbling a reply under his breath. you looked away, thinking he was annoyed, perhaps even embarrassed, but his touch was gentle as he reached for you again.

“can you stand?”

you swallowed, finally looking at him. you should’ve been intimidated, knowing that the night court’s general was seeing you so exposed; it always was hard to separate him from his role. but now, with his hazel eyes in such clear contrast to the monochromatics of the steppes, you reminded yourself that he had indeed become a friend.

lingering nausea turned your stomach once more, making you wince. cassian took it as answer, and gathered you up in his arms. “i’m taking you to the healers.”

curled up, you focused your gaze on nothing in particular as he carried you across the camp, trying not to think of what onlookers would think. this only reinforced the helplessness, the frailty that you so foolishly tried to overcome. cassian’s leathers were rough and cold against your skin, but his scent was comforting.

he set you down on a damp bedroll, hand briefly cupping your cheek. your heart pulsed violently; so unfamiliar you were with such gentle touches. “i’ll be back for you, alright?”

cassian then nodded to the healer just beyond, leaving you rather reluctantly.

the healer - an old woman, wings deformed by force - readied some herbs in the dark corner of this meagre tent. you looked around, barely keeping in the scoff. no viable blankets, no food… there wasn’t anything here that would help.

+++

cassian found you again later, when everything was graying. you hadn’t been at the healer’s tent when he finished the girls’ training session; she had told him that you left before she could even administer anything. he’d had some trouble, but eventually one of the girls pointed out the derelict shack.

you were sitting in a wooden tub - a glorified basket, really - listless in the cold water. cassian gritted his teeth, hesitating in the doorway. his relationship with you was undefined; you two saw each other only for a few hours a week at a time, and much of it was only in an official capacity. you were a quick and keen student, starting out strong. at first it had been an acknowledgement of your potential, then the liking of your smile, and eventually he found excuses to talk to you outside training. you were unyielding to the challenges of the steppes, and he admired that. being a good judge of character, cassian also found it so very easy to read you - something that had perhaps saved your life today. he knew you were interested in him, but kept yourself at a distance.

sometimes he wished you didn’t, and right now was one of those times.

he looked around at the splintered walls, the ragged bedding. he was familiar with illyrian poverty, but hadn’t experienced it so intimately for some time. you hid it well before - perhaps it was the clothing. but here in the twilight, your form looked so weak.

he quietly called your name, but you didn’t move. steeling himself, he made his way to you and crouched next to the tub. your knees were clutched to your chest.

“i’m sorry,” you croaked.

“what happened today can happen to anyone,” he said, choosing his words carefully. he didn’t blame you for a thing - didn’t think any less of you because of today’s overexhertion - but illyrian pride was a thing he had to keep in mind. you finally looked over, and your forlorn expression clutched at cassian’s heart.

“i was pathetic. the other girls are better - some of them can even fly! with my wings… what’s the point?”

he couldn’t help but glance at your curved wings, bent to fit inside. they were marked with scars and pockmarks, cruel memories of illyrian practices. he shook his head, swallowing the anger. “don’t say that. you worked hard today, as you always do.”

he sighed, thinking back on today’s overexertion and the way you had been steadily disengaging over the last few weeks. at first he thought it was an enhanced effort and trying to ignore your feelings, but he shouldn’t have been so arrogant.

“what’s going on, sweetheart?”

and your face crumpled, tears quickly welling and rolling. you shook your head, covering your face with your hands before your shoulders shook with a sob. cassian shifted involuntarily, a knee-jerk reaction.

“those… those gifts you gave me? i’ve had to sell them… trade them away… i’m so sorry, cassian. i don’t even have anything to show for it now. i— i—”

“hey.” he reached over, cupping your face, but you couldn’t stop.

“if i can’t join the legions, what am i going to do? i don’t have anything, cassian,” you implored, trying to make him understand. you didn’t need to, because cassian already knew what that felt like. “no skills, no prospects… i don’t—i don’t want to sell myself—”

he gripped you tighter, forcing you to look into his eyes. “hey, hey! just breathe, alright?” you were really crying now, sobs heavy as you gripped his arms. there was desperation there, a kind of hopelessness that he immediately wanted to change for you. the breathy sobs continued, and he quickly found a towel. “come here,” he said, helping you out of the tub and into his arms, your wet hair cold against his neck. he hugged you close, pressing what he hoped to be a reassuring kiss to your head.

when he felt your palm press over his heart, he intertwined his fingers with yours, calluses as rough as his. your hitching breaths evened out as cassian held you. he was hesitant to disturb the tentative calm, but he had to know. “how long has it been like this?” he asked, gently lifting your chin. thumb caressing your jaw, he regretted that this intimacy - both physical and emotional - had taken your humiliation to come to pass.

the reply was a mere shake of your head, full of shame and regret. your gaze lowered, but cassian pressed his forehead against yours, trying to comfort you in a way when words simply couldn’t. but he tried anyway. “i’m going to help you, alright, sweetheart? i promise. i’m sorry.” he tasted salt on his lips, and gathered you closer. “we’re going to be alright.”

he wasn’t quite sure how yet, but he was going to deliver on his promise. he cared for you, whether you believed it to be foolish or not, and cassian would endeavour to show it from now on.

#acotar x reader #acotar cassian x reader #acotar imagine #acotar fanfic #cassian acotar x reader

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ve1vetyoongi · 5 years ago

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take a sip | jjk

summary: Your best friends engagement party was a dreadful reminder of your painfully barren dating life. That is until you laid eyes on the tattooed waiter who can’t stop staring - after all, the wine tastes sweet but he tastes sweeter.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut, fluff

au: countryclub!au, waiter!jungkook, rich!reader

word count: 9.4k

warnings: oral (f receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, some dirty talk, (very) soft dom!jungkook, bratty tease oc.

a/n: ITS MY MUHFUCKIN BABY’S BIRTHDAY so i decided to write a lil something to celebrate because i love him with my whole heart shh who said that <3 (p.s this is largely unedited rip excuse any mistakes)

You fell asleep last night so I saw myself out. Thanks for the drinks! — Jungkook.

You crumpled up the note you found folded neatly on your nightstand and dropped it into the trash with a groan.

Another failed attempt at dating. God, you were such an idiot.

Your temples throbbed with the tell tale signs of a hangover, courtesy of a night of reckless drinking at some scummy club that played Top 40 EDM tracks like they were actually good — the drinks were cheap, though, so you put up with the hearing loss more often than you cared to admit.

The words on the note echoed in your head. Last night?

Hazy drunken memories slowly began to piece together, making you wince when you remembered the way you'd clung onto the arm of a dark haired boy in skinny jeans on the dance floor the night before.

How you had shamelessly grinded against him, probably whispering something unnecessarily filthy in his ear.

And even worse, how he had followed your stumbling form out onto the sidewalk, refusing to let you walk through the streets cloaked in night time alone.

"I can call you a cab?" A voice filled with concern.

"My place...'s not far from here..." You had slurred.

What happened next?

He'd insisted on escorting you home, you knew that much. You remembered the way his eyes widened when you stumbled into the lobby of Paradise resort -- the elite residential area your father paid ungodly amounts of money to be a member of -- instructing Jungkook to rummage in your bag for the key card that would let you inside.

"You live here?" He had asked, straightening his simple white T-shirt when he took in the grand chandelier and the classical music humming overhead which boasted the highbrow nature of Paradise, a juxtaposition to the casual setting in which you'd met. You noticed the way he'd ogled your red bottomed shoes, probably putting two and two together now.

"Mmf," you had mumbled into the crook of his neck as he helped you climb the stairs to your suite. "Parents are rich."

You remembered asking him if he wanted a drink and then watching his own hands pour a shot of whisky when yours proved too shaky to get any of the liquid in the glass.

You remembered the tattoo which started at the base of his neck beneath rosy stains from your lipstick, the design curving down his arm and ending in a rose on the back of his hand.

You remembered how said hand felt warm when it cupped your cheek and how his lips were sticky with the sour taste of alcohol when they touched yours in a way that set your body on fire with a craving to never stop.

You remembered how he carried you to your bedroom, face scanning yours with something that looked like concern when the alcohol in your blood stream had you slurring your words. How he laid down next to you, body heat comforting as your eyes fluttered closed.

And you remembered how you fell asleep like that, wrapped up in a near strangers arms before you'd even asked his name.

Jungkook. That must have been it.

He didn't leave his number. Were you even surprised?

Ugh. What did it matter anyway? It wasn't like you were ever going to see the dude again.

While you were popping a painkiller out of the blister packet, swilling your dry tongue with water to get rid of the lingering flavour of vodka that made you want to blanch, you heard your phone buzz nearby.

2:45, Somin: — Are you up? Don't forget my get together tonight. — I can't wait to show you the Pinterest board I made with wedding ideas!!!!

And there it was. The literal headache of your life that no amount of painkillers could soothe.

Your best friend Somin was getting married.

And you were happy for her, you would swear it to your grave...

Another buzz.

2:47, Somin: — P.S. Namjoon will be there 😜 I have a feeling you'll get along great.

You just didn't see why she felt the need to pressure you into following in her footsteps.

"We're getting married!" She had announced one afternoon while you sipped Chardonnay on the sun deck just in time to gaze at the resorts badminton team taking the field for a game from a nearby balcony. She had been hanging off Hoseok's arm all day, a sparkling diamond on her left hand nearly as big as the mushy grin on his face. "Can you believe it?"

"No." You had answered, voice tight and a little too high to give off the I'm-happy-for-you vibes you had hoped for. "I can't believe it."

It was true; Hoseok had been a member at Paradise for as long as you could remember and last time you checked Somin wasn't in any hurry to get married.

Until she learned of Hoseok's six figure income. Eye roll.

After that it was all wedding this and wedding that and when are you getting hitched because it's suddenly socially unacceptable for me to be friends with someone not in a financially convenient marriage.

So that's why you almost said no when Somin had booked you in for a wine tasting session at the resort's most luxurious bar in celebration of the engagement. Sure, you liked drinking the stuff as much as the next person but Somin's mindless gloating about her dashingly handsome CEO boyfriend-turned-fiancé couldn't be drowned out by even the strongest of liqueurs.

Neither could her fruitless attempts at setting you up with Kim Namjoon, Hoseok's rich best friend.

Sure, she liked to think that her intentions were generous, but deep down you knew it was because there was one thing Somin couldn't stand: a smudge on her perfect reputation. And right now, you were the dirty mark she just couldn't clean.

But you promised. To be happy for her and to actually turn up. So you found yourself choking back an excuse invovling your self inflicted headache and dragging yourself to her engagement party despite your reservations.

You could see the distaste on her face when you arrived at the bar ten minutes late, black cocktail dress and fur jacket a far cry from the pretty pink number she'd picked out for you to wear to "impress Namjoon."

Her face darkened even more when you strutted straight past the place marker labelled with your name in her delicate scrawl atop of the seat next to Namjoon himself in favour of slumping down into one of the empty seats beside her at the head of the table.

The truth was you didn't want to date a Namjoon or a Hoseok or any of the other guys swirling aged alcohol in their glasses at the party. You didn't want to be one of the wives hanging off their arms and smiling pretty when they gloated about their business promotions.

Was it too much to want some passion? Something more than a social statement? Maybe you were living in a fairytale you just didn't want to wake up from.

Instead you popped a grape from the intricate table piece displaying a range of wines into your mouth, gathered a deep determined breath and willed the alcohol you were about to pour down your throat to make the night go by faster. Because each time you caught a glimpse of Namjoon your mind drifted back to the pretty boy with tattoos. The one who had held you in his arms and made sure you got home safe and kissed you with a passion unlike anything you'd felt ever before—

"Ma'am? Can I get you anything else?" A formal voice shook you from your thoughts. A voice that sounded strangely familiar.

"Huh?" You started rummaging through your bag, retrieving a cherry red lipstick and a pocket mirror, the tell tale marks on the rim of your glass a sign you needed to touch up.

"I asked if I could get you anything?"

You could see the torso of a young man in the distinct Paradise uniform in your peripheral, barely even glancing in his direction before you were waving him off.

"Im fine, thank you uh, Jeon...Jungkook?"

Your lips curled around the name on his name tag before you could stop yourself.

The lipstick in your fingers clattered to the ground.

It all hit you too quickly, like the breath was sucked out of your lungs. The tattooed forearm that peeked out from beneath the black shirt stretched across his torso, the slightly chapped lips that formed a small 'o' when you locked eyes for the second night in a row.

Except this time you weren't giving him bedroom eyes from across the dance floor and he wasn't ogling your bare legs in the cocktail dress you were wearing because this time it was his hands that shook as he poured wine into your glass and you were expected to tip him generously. Because he was your waiter.

A heat flushed your cheeks and you scrambled to pick up your lipstick but Jungkook was quicker, his hand brushing yours. The contact was brief but you shivered when he pressed the container into your palm.

Jungkook cleared his throat, wiping the shocked expression from his features while you stared at your hand, still processing.

"Better be more careful, ma'am." His voice was formal again, serious. Exactly how a waiter should speak to a customer.

"Y/N." You stammered, daring to look him straight in the eyes for the first time. "My name is Y/N."

Jungkook seemed taken aback, swallowing hard when his gaze dropped to your lips before he was averting his gaze bashfully and pinching the inside of his hand, as if to chastise himself.

Cute.

No! You were not about to admit that he was cute or that were regretting falling asleep last night because goddamn how can one guy have dimples and thighs that look so good in those pants? You resisted throwing your head in your hands and diverted your gaze from his hot cheeks to the tattooed hands which fidgeted at his sides instead.

"What are you doing here?" Your voice was but a whisper, hoping to avoid funny looks from Somin although she seemed engaged in a particularly enthusiastic debate about wedding cake toppers luckily for you.

He started at your voice, seemingly too invested in letting his eyes run over the cleavage which peeked out of the top of your dress to hear you. Huh.

His professional resolve seemed to break. Did he remember last night? He was sober enough surely... "I-I..."

"Excuse me, sir? Do you have any more of that Chateau Margaux? I'd like to taste it again."

The bubble around you and Jungkook popped. His head jerked, attention drawn back to his job and before you could prod him further he was straightening his tie and scurrying across the room in search of some expensive brand of wine.

You took a glug of the liquid in your own glass. Maybe he didn't remember you after all...

You thought back to the way he'd practically done a double take when he saw you. No. He definitely remembered. You could tell by the way he kept glancing up at you from beneath the choppy bangs that covered his eyes, fiddling nervously with the row of black studs littering his ears whenever he thought you weren't looking in his direction.

Everyone around you was engaged in mindless chatter but you were no longer interested, choosing instead to stare over the rim of your glass at the tattooed boy across the room. The Paradise uniform he donned was a far cry from the skin tight leather you'd seen him in last night but you had to admit he still managed to make the black get up look hot.

Maybe he was clumsy or maybe he could feel your eyes on him, a light blush creeping onto his cheeks as he very nearly dropped a crystal wine glass and you had to stifle a giggle, drawing funny looks from the people beside you. You saw a smirk appear on his own lips when he saw how you awkwardly covered the slip with a cough.

The night seemed to drag on as you tried to make small talk with the other guests, desperately trying to ignore the way the waiter's eyes burned into your back. Every moment felt like a fight to focus on Somin's lips as she drawled something about the wine being very dry and you found yourself just nodding where appropriate, too busy remembering how good Jungkook's lips had felt pressed to yours last night.

That's when the idea struck you. It wouldn't be so bad to make it up to him, right? Show him what he missed out on, per se, now that you were marginally more sober. And there was no time like the present...

Perhaps the alcohol had gone to your head. That would be a reasonable explanation for why your head span dizzy with a rush of excitement. For the first time that night you felt something other than utter dread. Something was drawing you to him - something you knew you should just ignore and focus into one of the other more...suitable suitors sitting across from you.

But you couldn't get Jungkook out of your head, especially now he was stood dangerously close to you yet somehow so far away at the same time.

Would it hurt to finish what you'd started the night before?

Oh god, you thought to yourself as you retrieved a pen from your purse, uncapped it and scribbled a note onto a serviette next to the signature Paradise logo. This is a bad idea. The disapproving voice in your head was not enough to stop you from handing the folded napkin to another waiter, a hushed whisper in his ear sending him on his way to the tattooed boy wiping down a table across the room.

You cleared your throat. "I'm going to use the ladies room."

Getting to your feet, the chair scraped across the tile a little too abruptly, drawing everybody at the table from their conversations. The way you folded your napkin was too careful, a ploy to avoid their gazes in fear of giving away your true intentions.

"Wait! I'll come with you." Somin announced, throwing back the red liquid which sloshed at the bottom of her crystal glass. She started to fiddle with the strap of her bag, nearly already on her feet before you were shutting her down hurriedly. Shit!

"No!" You started, Somin's eyes widening as you waved your hands wildly in a gesture for her to sit back down. "I mean, no! You're the host, you can't leave the guests alone at your own party."

"Oh." Somin fell back into her wicker chair, eyebrows still furrowed at your fervent outburst. She looked a tad hurt at your rejection of her company to powder your noses or whatever she assumed you were slipping away to do (the thought of you getting it on with the waiter of all people probably too unimaginable to even cross her mind) but you didn't have time to feel bad about it - besides, she'd probably forget once one of the blonde girls beside her asked whether she planned on honeymooning in Paris or Prague - as Jungkook was unfolding your note, glancing over your scrawl before scanning the room with wide eyes for the sender - you.

"Hello, earth to Y/N?" Somin's voice snapped you out of your vacant stare, momentarily drawn away from checking out Jungkook's ass to stare down at her. "Will you be okay?"

"What? Oh yeah, I'll be fine." You managed to pull your crimson lips into a tight smile, the action appeasing Somin a little when she settled back into her chair, crossing her bare legs under the table. You were in the clear - now you had to make your escape. "The bathroom is just over there." You said simply, considering but resisting an I'll be back before you know it knowing you would probably be a while.

With that you pulled the strap of your designer bag tightly around your shoulder, excusing yourself with a reassuring smile.

Your red bottoms clicked against the tiles in time with your pulse which only quickened when your hand reached the exit, evening air caressing your face as you slipped through - but not before throwing your hair across your bare shoulders, eyes immediately landing on Jungkook as he fidgeted with the napkin between his fingers. The wink you sent him caused a hot flush to creep up his neck, visible even from where you stood and you ensured to sway your hips a little more than usual while his eyes burned into your back.

A few minutes later and you were stood with your knees knocking on the balcony, the door flying open and sending a slightly sweaty, panting Jungkook tumbling straight into you full force. His eyes widened comically, staggering to a stop but not before his arm was curling around the small of your back instinctively to ensure your balance.

His chest ended up flush to yours, palm a little too close to your ass and he looked nearly as shocked as you did, lip pulled between his teeth as he jerked away from you, as if suddenly remembering something. Probably the fact that you had the power to get him fired for touching you indecently without permission - not that you minded, in this instance.

"Ma'am I'm so sorry-"

"Please call me Y/N." You corrected him quickly. "And it's fine. Not as if I've got anywhere better to be."

He looked down at his feet, swallowing thickly as another blush carressed his cheeks. God he was so cute. "I, uh, had to get someone else to run the tables...can I ask you something?"

"If it's about last night then I wanted to talk about it too." You butt in before he can finish.

You practically heard him gulp at that, looking past you as if meeting your gaze might turn him to dust or something. "Why do you even want to talk to me now you know that I — you know — work here?"

A flirty smile tugged at your lips, your arm brushing against his a little. "I think you know why I want to talk to you."

He coughed anxiously in response, tugging his arm away to interlock it with his other behind his back like they tell the workers here to do, scuffing his black shoes in the gravel.

"Did I..did I do something wrong?" He looked startled." I really need this job so if there's anything I can do to make it up to you.."

You cut him off. "No! Of course not-" You tilted your head, thinking your next words through carefully. "Honestly? I'm the one who should be saying sorry for last night."

His head tilted, confused. "Why? You didn't know who I was so I'm the one in the wrong-"

"It's not that!" He twisted the rings on his fingers, still not soothed. "I'm embarrassed because I had way too much to drink and you were still nice enough to take me home."

"Oh." He scratched his neck, shaking his head with a smile. "Don't be embarrassed, it's the least I could do."

"Well I am," You persisted. "And I wanted to say sorry..."

"Not necessary," He insisted. "I had a good time with you, actually."

"You know, I wanted to kiss you goodnight. Before I fell asleep, like an idiot..." You began to close the space between you. Here goes.

"What?" He smirked cheekily. He seemed to be getting a little more comfortable, the small talk making him forget your social differences. "Are you gonna show me what I missed out on?

"Precisely."

"Wha-"

And with that you placed both hands on his shoulders, no time to acknowledge how broad and strong they felt beneath your touch before your lips were pressing tentatively against his own. You felt him tense beneath you, breath hitching as your teeth grazed his bottom lip.

His reaction was not what you were expecting — his arms pressed to his sides firmly, eyes wide and stiff as his lips stayed still against your advance. You pulled away quickly.

Jungkook's fingertips grazed his lips and you took a step back, allowing a little more breathing space. You turned sheepish. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't have done that."

A few beats of silence followed and it was as if all the confidence you possessed previously melted away into a pitiful puddle beneath your heels. God this was so embarrassing.

Not only had you kissed one of the waiters but he didn't even want to kiss you back.

You fiddled with the fur around your shoulders, desperate to hide your shame. Jungkook was still stood like a statue, mouth open in a small 'o' as he gawked at you.

Clearly you read the signs wrong and he wasn't interested. Idiot.

"I'll be going now." You spun on your heels, tears threatening to prick your eyes with sheer embarrassment at your misjudgement.

"N-no!" Jungkook rushed forward, taking hold of your elbow, forcing you to meet his gaze. "It's not that I don't want to..."

Your interest perked up at this. "Then what?"

"It's just...why do you want to? You know.."

"What?"

"K-kiss me." A small smile graced your lips when he stuttered over the word. Anybody would think he'd never kissed somebody before. "I-I mean, you're you and I'm...me." He looked clueless as if the idea of you wanting him was completely off the cards batshit crazy. It was, in some ways, you supposed.

"You didn't mind last night." You mumbled.

"That was before you knew who I was."

"And you think I would have asked you to come back here if I cared about that?" You studied his face properly for the first time. The quirk of his brow at your question, the way the corners of his mouth twitched cutely and his eyes, staring at you firmly for the first time then.

"I guess not..." He swallowed before squaring his shoulders. As if he was telling himself a mantra. Be confident. "Can you kiss me again?"

You took a step forward again, enjoying the way he shivered lightly when your hand traced up his arm.

Jungkook's lips were parted now, his tongue snaking out to wet their chapped surface. His hands twitched, desperate to reach out and touch you but never quite gathering the confidence to do so; you admired his self control - you weren't sure you would be able to stop yourself from touching him everywhere now he said you could.

With a deep breath you stood on your tiptoes. He was a few foot taller than you, his lips a fair distance from your own until your were closing the gap, his eyelashes fluttering closed against your cheeks this time as you pressed your mouth flush to his in a kiss rougher than the last.

Jungkook's lips moved against yours immediately this time, slotting the damp flesh of his bottom lip between yours. You couldn't help but tug on it a little with your teeth, enjoying the way he sighed into your mouth when you did so.

He was still being careful, treating you as though you were a piece of the fine china he polished eight times a day upstairs. You grabbed both of his hands, placing them firmly at the small of your back and letting out a breathy laugh when he immediately began to rub circles with his thumbs into the flesh of your hips. He was just waiting for the opportunity, willing to give the attention you craved if you allowed him to.

Your own hand had snaked up the back of his neck, tentatively tangling in the hair at the nape and angling his head to crash against yours harder than before.

You could feel yourself getting lost in the heady aroma of his woody cologne, a warmth you recognised as lust pooling in your stomach when he drew you flush against his chest.

His warm skin scorched yours, sticky lips sliding against yours a little too lewdly for the public setting - despite your current predicament you weren't one for PDA - and you found it hard to pull back for air, his forehead coming to rest against yours, panting as you admired his reddened, swollen lips.

"Is there anywhere we can go that's more private?" You managed to get out between laboured breaths, hand coming to cup his cheek gently as he nodded a little too eagerly, knocking your heads together. He bowed his head, apologising bashfully as he removed himself from your hold.

"Y-yeah." He stammered, making you giggle at his awkwardness. "I think I know a place."

His eyes dropped to your hand, as if debating whether he had the balls to take it and before long he was nodding decisively and lacing his fingers with your own firmly. His palm was clammy, testament of your effect on him but he squeezed tightly anyway, dragging you behind him around the back of a bar and into a little back room labelled VIP’S ONLY.

The room was cool enough to have the hairs raising on your arms, glass cases filled with rows of chilled wine bottles lining the walls. You realized this must be one of the private rooms which country club members booked out if they wanted to share a few drinks with a little more privacy.

"Nobody comes down here unless we get a special request." Jungkook asserted as he fiddled with the light.

The place was plush, typical of Paradise - a faux fur rug on the ground, even its own chandelier - and of course, two chairs around a table, already set up with matching glasses, as if someone had been expecting you to wander in here with a good looking waiter. Perfect.

You discarded your jacket and reached for a bottle of red on the middle shelf, the glass cold to the touch. It looked expensive. You would have to add it to the bill upstairs. "Care for a drink-"

You were expecting an answer but Jungkook wasn't listening, his hands wrapping around your wrists and pressing you against the shelves with an audible thump, the bottles rattling precariously but you were too focused on the way Jungkook scanned your face hungrily to care.

It was as if he couldn't wait any longer, the grip keeping your arms suspended enough to bruise; his broad chest wracked with his laboured breath, your own body squirming beneath him as he hovered over you and effortlessly made your legs turn to jelly.

Then his lips were on you; everywhere and anywhere they could find an expanse of skin, mouthing harshly at your exposed collar bones and then your neck before nibbling gently at your jaw and drawing a breathless whine from your lips when his tongue slipped out to sooth the grazes left by his teeth.

You couldn't take the teasing any longer, tilting your head so his lips were in line with yours and he wasted no time in connecting them.

Unlike before he took control, crushing your lips with desperation. When you felt his hot tongue slip into your mouth you practically melted against him, a damp throb appearing between your legs. He tasted of whisky and grape and you already found yourself addicted.

Jungkook was already out of breath, panting lightly into your mouth when he let go of your hands in favour of allowing them to curl around his neck, crushing his chest against yours close enough to feel the way your heart was hammering.

Jungkook let his hands trail down your sides, touch firm as they edged closer and closer to the curve of your ass. The action had you writhing, willing him to just hurry up and touch you like you could tell he wanted to but he hesitated when you let out a frustrated moan into his mouth, clearly mistaking it for discomfort.

"Sorry," He ripped his hands away, resting them more modestly on your waist. He was blinking at you now, somewhat shy again, the way he drank your bare legs in hungrily the only evidence of the rougher Jungkook from before. "Got carried away. 's cause you look so pretty."

You practically flushed at this. His choppy fringe was covering his eyes, but the dark arousal was still evident in them, even if his lidded gaze was cautious. His lips were smudged with your red lipstick and you imagined yours were not in any better condition.

"I liked it." You assured him, trying your best to calm the waver in your voice by biting your lip as seductively as humanly possible when your head was spinning with the scent of his woody cologne and lust, tracing your hands down his arms encouragingly and removing them from your hips to guide them beneath the hem of your skin tight dress to cup the flesh of your ass directly this time.

His hands were burning hot against your bare skin, a delicious contrast to the cold wine cooler against your back. Jungkook shuddered above you, letting out a groan - an actual one, not like the choked ones he'd been suppressing until now - unable to stop his swollen lips from bumping against yours again and you smirked into the kiss mischievously knowing you had found a chip in his resolve. "You're not too bad yourself, by you way."

"Shit." Jungkook gasped, hot breath mingling with yours, torso shifting uncomfortably. Although he seemed desperate to hide the growing arousal in his pants, the noises that left his mouth weren't doing much to conceal it — and as soon as you rolled your hips up to brush your own crotch against his momentarily he was falling apart, knuckles turning white as he staggered to grip the shelf above you like his life depended on it. "Ah s-shit!"

You rolled your hips again, enjoying the way his head fell into the crook of your neck. He hissed into your hair every time his bulge brushed against the cotton of your panties, his length rock hard in his pants to the point you considered it may be painful.

"You're already this hard?" You managed to get out between a small moan of your own as his hips stuttered into action, meeting your thrusts in a way that put pressure directly on your clit which was pulsating by now.

"Can't help it." he admitted, squeezing his eyes shut and focusing on the feeling of his cock circling your clothed heat, desperate to get any relief.

He was lost to the feeling and you took advantage of his lowered guard by flipping him over and slotting yourself between his legs, pulse racing when you caught the look of surprise on his face. Never allowing your body to stop moving you were diving for his neck with an instinct nearly primal, leaving open mouthed kisses down the centre. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, choking back a strangled moan when you found his sweet spot - just behind his ear - and began sucking at it teasingly.

So he was a sucker for neck kisses, huh? Interesting.

You couldn't help but feel proud that you managed to get him to practically melt beneath you, his hands grabbing at your dress in any attempt to pull you closer to his body, as if you weren't already grinding on his hard cock with your mouth latched onto his neck intent on leaving a mark. Your heart swelled every time he let out a little gasp, pleased it was you making him fall apart so easily.

You removed yourself from his neck, looking up at him through your lashes as you let your fingers trail down his stomach, the ache in your heat intensifying when you felt the toned muscles of his abs beneath his shirt. Your fingers found the button of his pants, fiddling with it until the warmth of his big palms covered yours, grip firm enough to stop your ministrations entirely. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused. "You don't want me to?"

"God no, fuck I do," Jungkook managed to stammer. His voice was thick with lust, the huskiness making your core throb for attention. "Jus' wanna make sure you do, that's all."

You smiled at the way his lips parted cutely, scanning your face for any sign of hesitation. You pushed his hands away, palming him through his trousers and returning to your previous ministrations by making quick work of his pants button. "Believe me I want to." You confirmed before untucking his shirt, allowing your hands to roam beneath it. His breath hitched when your fingers explored his bare skin for the first time, smirking at the way he tensed beneath your touch.

Jungkook licked his lips in anticipation, eyes trained to the hand slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers. The whine that left his lips when your hand finally wrapped around his cock had you rubbing your legs together, panties sticky against your sensitive folds. Jungkook's head lolled back against the shelf, eyes squeezed shut as you ran your hand up his length once and then twice. His pants were pulled down enough to expose the reddened head of his cock, clit pulsing as it twitched when your palm smeared the wetness that gathered there down his shaft.

"F-fuck," Jungkook got out between gritted teeth. "Feels so good."

Your core was practically dripping by this point, desperate for any relief, hole clenching around nothing when your hips tried to grind against something, anything to no avail.

Jungkook must have noticed the way your bit your lip in frustration, wasting no time trying to offer you some much needed relief by hooking a hand beneath your knee, encouraging your leg to wrap around his waist and sending you straight on to his semi-clothed cock.

You both let out a groan when your panty clad core began to move in circles against his nearly bare length, your sensitive clit finally getting some attention.

You reached between your bodies to wrap your hand around his length again, using the palm of your hand to massage the swollen head in time with the roll of your hips. Jungkook's face fell into your shoulder, muffling a strangled moan next to your ear. "I'll c-cum if you keep this up, fuck."

His words went straight to your heat, eyes fluttering shut and pace turning sloppy as you lost yourself to the feeling of his length slipping up and down your sopping slit, the blunt end of his cock so close to your needy hole that he could fill you right up if you just moved your panties to the side, a visible wet patch appearing on the cotton as the action made the fabric cling to your folds.

"I want you so bad," Your words slurred, brain completely clouded by arousal and everything Jungkook - the way his hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you through the motions, the way his lips let out hot gasps of air against your neck with every twist of your hand, the way his cock was already leaking needily against your palm. "Fuck."

"P-please," Jungkook muttered huskily, nibbling in the lobe of your ear. "I can't — please just let me..." His sentence drew out into a low moan when you squeezed his cock, halting your movements in favour of looking up at his fucked out expression.

"What?" You were curious now. His cheeks were rosy, breath quickening when you pulled back and allowed him to look between you at where your hand was wrapped around his shaft, then back up to your expression which you were aware was probably just as fucked out as his. Truth be told you would let him do literally anything he wanted to right now, let him have you in any way but you needed to hear him say it first. "Let you what?

Jungkook licked his lips, hips bucking up lightly into your hand that still didn't budge. Cute. "Let me taste you — fuck please."

The words alone nearly sent you over the edge, clit throbbing at the thought of feeling his lips around it, mouth forming a small 'o' as Jungkook finally let go of all his shyness. "O-oh — fuck okay."

Your mouth was dry, legs putty under his lustful stare. Permission was all it took for him to snap, sweeping you up of the ground with his palms under your ass, legs naturally curling around his waist. He grunted when your fingers tangled in his hair, tilting his head back to connect your lips in a heated kiss while he stumbled to throw you down roughly on the table.

"You're driving me crazy, you know that?" Jungkook never left your lips as he hovered over your body, encouraging you to lay flat against the surface beneath you. His arms slid up your waist to find your arms, pinning them next to your head harshly. "Leave 'em there."

You did as he said, enjoying this bossy side of Jungkook. Before he was cautious, eager to please you but careful not to scare you away; now he was too far gone to care, desperate to get you out of your clothes and wreck you as quickly as he could, all worries dissipating when his hands roamed across the swell of your breasts.

His large palms cupped your tits through your dress, though the low cut didn't leave much to the imagination, your hardened nipples visible through the fabric. The way you bit back a moan as his fingers brushed the hardened buds made the corners of his lips turn up slightly though it was quickly replaced by an open mouthed gawk when he got the spaghetti straps down your shoulders and pulled down the front of your dress.

"No bra?" He spluttered, wide eyed.

"N-nope." The hitch in your voice as he cupped your breasts skin-on-skin was unmistakable.

"F-fuck." He whispered, taking in the way you squirmed beneath him every time his thumb stroked your hardened nipple. He looked almost amazed at the effect he was having on you. "You're so hot shit." That came as more of an unconscious after thought, his mouth already latched onto your nipple and flicking it sinfully with his tongue before you could respond.

His hand snaked between your legs, dragging up and down your inner thighs a few times before finally settling on your core. His thumb slipped beneath your panties, finding your clit immediately making you keen at the sudden contact. He rubbed firm circles into the swollen bud, getting you to squirm as you finally found some relief from the needy pulse in your core.

Jungkook's finger gingerly teased your swollen entrance, feeling the way it clenched in anticipation as you panted, desperate to be filled in any way. "Please, Jungkook." His eyes met yours and you could tell he didn't have the strength to tease, your begging enough to have him pushing one of his digits inside you to the knuckle, almost as if he couldn't resist it any longer himself.

"Oh," You couldn't help but whimper when he curled his finger inside you, dragging agonisingly slowly against your velvety walls. "So good - more p-please."

Before you could adjust to the feeling, Jungkook was circling a second finger at your entrance. The slow slide inside had you panting, both digits stretching you open a little more as Jungkook upped his pace so that the lewd sounds of your wetness echoed throughout the vault.

It wasn't long before you felt Jungkook's hot breath against your thigh, his free hand spreading your legs as far as he could. He wasn't on his knees for a near second before his fingers were leaving you despite your whine of protest when your core was once again left with the feeling of emptiness.

Jungkook encouraged you to lift up your ass so he could pool your dress at your waist, now allowing him full access to the place you needed him most. His fingers gently toyed with the waistband of your panties, eyes darting across your nearly bare core like a man starved although he needed reassuring before he could see you completely. "Fuck, just take them off already."

"O-okay." Jungkook sped into action, dragging the cotton down to your ankles and finally taking in your bare heat, letting out a whimper when you gasped at the cold air against your swollen clit.

"Fuck you're so wet." There he was, wide eyed Jungkook back again as he drank in the sight of your dripping heat but you didn't have time to think about how goddamn cute he was before he was lapping a flat stripe up your slit, head falling back against the table with a whine instead. "Mmf tastes so good."

"It's y-you who got me like this." You managed to stammer between laboured breaths when his pointed tongue began to target your clit, the sensation almost too much to handle, your legs determined to close around his head if it weren't for his fierce grip around your thighs keeping them open.

"Me?" Jungkook sounded breathless, hot breath ghosting across your dripping folds and making you shiver. "God I want to see you cum on my tongue."

The hot throb between your legs only intensified hearing Jungkook speak with a new found confidence, the glint in his darkened eyes conveying his determination to make you come undone with just his mouth. And judging by the way your breath hitched every time he teasingly grazed his teeth across your needy clit it wouldn't take much. "I'll come just listening to you talk if you don't — oh."

Jungkook didn't wait for you to beg even though you would have if he'd asked you to, instead throwing your legs over his shoulders, pads of his fingers attacking your clit and prodding against your clenching entrance with his tongue. You were writhing again as soon as you felt him push inside, unable to keep your hands pressed to the table any longer and instead finding your fingers twisting into his curls to encourage him to keep going.

"Fuck right there," you panted when he pushed a finger into your heat, the way it curled against your sweet spot combined with the feeling of his tongue lapping noisily at your clit enough to have you tugging his roots mercilessly. " 'm gonna cum—"

The coil in your stomach was tightening rapidly and you could feel your high approaching, a few more flicks of his tongue all it would take to have you coming undone, you were sure of it.

Jungkook's hand slid up your body to fondle your breasts greedily, his fingers twisting your nipples painfully slow in comparison to the way his mouth devoured your slit. The sudden pleasure made you writhe and he had to use his other hand to hold you against his tongue, snorting when you whined a little louder than you wanted to.

"Want you to cum for me so bad," he coaxed, tongue getting sloppy now as he opted to pull your clit between his lips instead, sucking obscenely, the motion enough to tip you over the edge with a cry. Your power of your high had tears spilling down your cheeks, thoughts wiped of anything other than the way your legs shook with your release and Jungkook's thumb stroking your hip encouragingly. "That's it, let me see you cum."

Your hands pressed him against your folds firmly and he moaned into your mound - at your neediness or at your hole clenching deliciously around the fingers that still pumped into you throughout your high you couldn't tell - but the vibrations were almost too much against your sensitive clit.

"Fuck Jungkook, I can't ugh." Your fingers found the collar of his shirt, pulling him upwards until he was face to face with you again. The sight of his lips glistening with your arousal was enough to kick start another bout of lust pooling in your stomach, the way his tongue cheekily swiped as much of it from around his lips making you dizzy with want for him - all of him.

"You're pretty when you cum." He spoke softly, still trying to regain his breath as he hovered over you. You must have appeared as speechless as you felt - a testament to his ability to give earth shattering orgasms with just his tongue - and it made him furrow his brow, eyes darting away from yours bashfully. "W-was that good for you?"

You connected your lips to his in a reassuring peck, the tang of your own arousal mixing with the wine which still lingered on your tongue from earlier. "Fucking incredible."

A smile spread across his features at your confirmation, knuckle wiping away the tear of pleasure that streaked your cheeks. You couldn't help but return his grin, slowly dragging your hands down his chest until they reached the hem of his shirt.

"Wait!" Jungkook tensed. "W-we can stop now if you don't wanna..."

"But I do want to," Nipping at his neck had him shuddering in your grasp. "Need to. So bad." You got out between kisses across his cheek, getting ever closer to his sticky lips.

"Sure?" Jungkook's hands came to cover yours, gently guiding you to raise his shirt like you were itching to do. Anything to see him. "I'm happy to just get you off."

"Fuck, why are you always the one being nice to me?"

His shirt was around his neck by now, muffling his breathy laugh as he shook the garment off. "I think I'm the real winner here after that."

You leaned back onto your elbows in an effort to drink him in - the real him, not the him covered by a baggy uniform - his broad shoulders, the tattoo that curved across his shoulder, tiny waist dipping into a perfect V at the hem of his pants. "I'm definitely sure."

If you didn't know better he was unsure of your prolonged stare, almost looking as if he wanted to wrap his arms around his chest to hide from your gaze. In all truth you were just glad to not be the only one who was exposed, reminded all too suddenly that you were semi naked, core on display for him.

He seemed to remember too, zoning in on your tits and groaning when you pressed your hardened nipples to his chest skin on skin. "I can't believe how hot you are." His warm hands cupped your chin. "Can't believe you're letting me see you like this."

"Me neither," You breathed, Jungkook's eyes widening. "How hot you are I mean."

His adam's apple bobbed when you managed to shimmy his trousers down his thighs, pupils dilated with anticipation or need you couldn't tell.

"Let me suck you?" You had to resist licking your lips, mouth nearly drooling at the thought of returning the favour and wrapping your mouth around his hard length. He had felt heavy and long in your palm earlier and you had to swallow thickly to ignore the way your core throbbed at the thought of his hot cock fucking your mouth mercilessly.

"I-I don't think I'll last if I feel your mouth." Jungkook's hand cupped his bulge through the fabric of his boxers, hissing at the contact.

"Are you sure?" Your fingers clasped his wrist, bringing his hand to your lips and fluttering your lashes at him innocently when you wrapped your tongue around two of his digits. They still tasted of you and the thought alone had a moan caught in his throat and you knew you had broken him when he pushed his throbbing length against your leg, desperate for some relief.

"Shit, that's so hot." Voice barely a whisper, mouth agape as he studied the way you guided his fingers in and out of your mouth messily. "But I nearly came just from eating you out so —"

You sighed with mock exasperation. "Then just fuck me."

"F-fuck you? Now?" The surprise in his tone at your request was almost comical. As if he hadn't just eaten you out on this very table and fucking you was somehow crazy in comparison.

You traced the head of his cock through his boxers with your fingertip teasingly, holding back a moan at the wet patch which appeared on the front of the fabric. His breathing was almost as ragged as yours, hips lightly bucking into the contact. "I wanna cum with you inside me."

Jungkook's eyes bulged, a groan leaving his throat. "I-I can do that."

"Good." You let your lips connect, biting down on his lower one cheekily. "Be a good boy, hm?"

Jungkook's eyes squeezed shut and he let out a shaky breath when he covered your hand with his larger one, guiding it under the waistband of his boxers which quickly joined his trousers around his ankles. He hissed when you smacked his hand away, finally able to stroke his length properly.

"Fuck I need to be inside you right now." He stammered, palm squeezing your shoulder tightly as he tried to control his breathing when you twisted your palm around the sensitive tip of his cock. "I won't last otherwise."

You let up your unrelenting pace on his length and he let out a sigh of relief. He must have been really holding back huh? You bit your lip when you felt him pulse in your palm, your entrance clenching in anticipation for what was to come. He felt girthy and you nearly whined at the thought of how good he would stretch you out. How good it would feel to finally have him filling you up like you wanted.

"Please." You felt him spread your legs as far as he could, his hand replacing yours at the base of his cock. He stroked himself a few times as he drank in the way you shuddered beneath him, core soaking and completely on display for him.

"Look at you," He murmured huskily. "All pretty and spread out for me."

"F-fuck Jungkook, what are you-"

Jungkook ran the head of his cock up and down your slit agonisingly slow, a gasp leaving you when the action provided some much needed relief to your pulsing clit before he was circling your entrance teasingly. "Want me to be a good boy huh?"

His eyes were darker than ever before, utterly consumed by lust and the way they bore into yours made you writhe. "Please I need to feel you, ugh."

Jungkook put pressure on your clit again, leaving your hole feeling emptier than ever. "Would a good boy do this hm? Tease you like you tease me?"

"No - ah!" The head of his cock slipped into your entrance, arousal dripping down your ass now in anticipation for the full thing. As much as you tried to push back onto him, slide down his shaft and feel him fill you completely, he was unrelenting. You had to admire his self control considering the way his cock twitched against your heat gave away just how close he was.

"Y-you never even looked at me before today," Jungkook breathed, hips stuttering with a desparation to sink into your velvet heat. You tried to reach between your legs in an attempt to relieve the ache in your clit but Jungkook was too quick, pinning your wrist to the table. "But now look at you, about to cum around my cock yeah?"

"Mmf, please Jungkook I need you." You gave in, begging now. "Need you so bad oh my god—"

"That's more like it." And then he was sinking into you, slow enough to feel every ridge of him drag against your velvety walls. Once he bottomed out he let his face fall into the crook of your neck, completely lost to the feeling of you clenching around him. "So tight, fuck."

"Move!" You pleaded, scratching at his bare back. He obliged, hips snapping back until he was almost falling out of you before he was sliding back in again, both grunting at the feeling of him finally stuffing you full.

Hearing the way he slid in and out of you so easily, the squelching sound audible over his thighs slapping against your ass every time he bottomed out made you even more eager to take as much of him as you could, twisting your hips to meet his thrusts and making him groan when he saw the way your face twisted with a desperate pleasure.

"Want me that bad baby?" The pet name made your heat pulse. Jungkook hooked his arm beneath your knees, pulling your legs together above him, the action making your entrance even tighter than before and allowing him to hit deeper than ever, the head of his cock brushing your sweet spot with every stroke. "S-so fucking close." He stuttered.

You managed to open your eyes, taking in the way his long hair stuck to his forehead, beads of sweat glistening across his tattooed chest as he focused all his attention on ramming himself inside your pussy with a roughness you didn't think he was capable of. You weren't sure you'd be able to walk once he was done with you but it felt too good to beg him to stop.

Jungkook felt the way you clenched around his rock hard member, confirming you were just as close to a second high. He began to roll his hips upwards, his pubic bone grinding against your clit with every thrust of his cock and by that point you were lost to the pressure building in the pit of your stomach.

"Gonna cum again for me?" Junkook's lips brushed against your ear lobe, hot breath making you shudder. "G-going to fill you up so good, fuck." He was just muttering to himself now, earlier shyness lost to the feeling, filthy words turning you on even more knowing the fact.

"Mmf gonna c-cum." You managed to stammer between thumps of your heart.

"What will your friends think when they see you've been fucked out nice and good?" A strangled moan left him at the mere thought. "My cum dripping down your legs? Ah!"

That was all it took to have you cumming around his length, vision turning black as you felt the tension in your core finally release, his hips stuttering as he found his own release deep inside your pussy, the feeling of him filling you up making you whimper with oversensitivity.

Jungkook's pants were hot against your neck and you pulled him to your face by the collar, smirking when he struggled to move his lips against your own, still completely lost to the blissful feeling of his cock softening inside you.

"T-too sensitive." You mumbled against the corner of his mouth when he wriggled his hips, his eyes snapping open and scanning your face for discomfort before he was slipping out of you with a small gasp.

He took your face into his palms, planting one last kiss to your swollen lips before he was giving you a bashful lopsided smile. "Sorry I uh, got a little carried away."

The way he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly made your brain scream cute, cute, cute, before you were returning his grin. "I liked it."

He seemed surprised. "Y-you did?"

"Mmm." You shimmied your dress back down around the curve of your ass, shamelessly ogling Jungkook's naked torso as he buttoned his trousers back around his waist. "Couldn't you tell how hard I came?"

"Not as hard as I did!" The words sounded a little too eager and Jungkook sucked in a breath, dropping his shirt before it could even make it around his shoulders and making his red cheeks burn harder. "I've kinda uh...noticed you for a while now. Like before we met at the club..." He admitted.

Cute but the implications of his words made you wince. Why did you only just notice me?

You were eager to put him at ease. "Well, you definitely made a good first impression." That made him smile a little. "How about a sorry gift? For keeping you waiting?"

"What?" He asked cheekily. "You gonna give me a tip or something?"

"I didn't think of that," You mused. Instead you picked up your soiled panties, slipping them into the back pocket of his trousers with a flirty smile. "Maybe next time."

"N-next time?"

#btssmutclub #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfiction #bts #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #happy birthday jungkook!#my writing #fic: take a sip

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ambrial-blog · 3 years ago

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Behind Enemy Lines (Rising Serpent Overlord Striker AU)

Blitzo, the head of IMP was not entirely trusting of Striker. But was forced into working with Striker due to some unsavory circumstances that left his company bone dry.

Blitzo grudgingly work and supports the snake imp's cause not fully comprehending why the resistance was so close to Striker's heart. His main goal was finding Stolas: The Goetic prince was captured an enslaved by the resistance.

The Boss imp creeps down through the long a narrow corridors clutching a jar to chest as a light burn bright and swirls within. the red imp looks around, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. Being caught meant certain death.

Blitzo pauses his heart lurches into his throat as he quickly hides the container behind his his back. Listening to the eerie fizzing sound of the rattler. Blitzo turns sharply seeing a pair of glowing yellow eyes staring back at him.

Striker's southren drawl tickles the back of Blitzo's neck as he slithers through the shadows emerging from the shrouding darkness his tail swaying back and forth. His blessed handgun holstered at his side. He draws closer, and closer. forcing Blitzo to take a step back while trying to shield the container from view. "I've been look everywhere for you, Boss-man, where have you been hiding sugar-cube, thought we were partners he hisses why are you here?- in a place where you shouldn't be?" "well you found me says Blitzo- taking another step back. his back presses into the wall. "I got curious and wanted to see for myself" Blitzo answers.

Through working together Striker held many opportunities to sway Blitzo while attempting to open the murder professional's eyes

He openly sought on to IN doctorate Blitzo into the big four while secretly plotting Stella demise it was only a a matter of time before that harpy of a woman ran out her welcome. Striker was both the brute force and the intellect behind, operation Serpent as will as the gathering of the big four.

The other two being from Blitzo's past, Verosika: the Sucubus who secretly sought out to rekindle the relationship she had, with Blitzo. And, a blast from his childhood, a cold reminder that his sisters were no longer with him, the real Fizzouali. Who was the open wild card he had his own reasons for being here that concerned the former Harlequin. Unsure of his relationship with Blitzo if he wanted to help or hinder. Becoming, older brother, confidant silly friend, or did he want to claim Blitzo for himself?.

The only reason why he was here was to get answers.

Striker wants to covet Blitzo, taking him all the way to the top. Till the day he has Lucifer graveling on his hands and knees while Blitzo watches with malicious glee curled up in his lap their tails intertwined, Lilith's head mounted above his throne. As Charlie's severed head stares on clutched in his blood drenched claws: a horrific look frozen on her angelic features.

And when the day come when Striker strikes the name Ares Goeita from existence plunging hell into chaos. than so be it.

The In-Between a place where souls come to rest, before judgement. A place where no imp dare to tread. The influx of time. A Kassam full of emptiness that echoes with the disembodied voices of the damned. One Imp dares to defy all logic as he sets out to retrieve the kindred hearted Ares Goeita.

Only to be halted in his tracks by the power hungry serpent. Striker blocks Blitzo from leaving that particular room. The room's very essence pulsated with raw untapped powers. Knowing if he let Blitzo go, and the head of IMP was successful in resurrecting's of the Ares Goeita his future empire would fall.

He corners Blitzo, his tail snaking his way up Blitzo's leg coiling around his thigh until it rest on Blitzo's hips as Blitzo desperately tries to hide the jar from Striker's hypnotic gaze. "So you do have it" Striker purrs. Pulling Blitzo from the corner the red imp stumbling on his feet clutching the container to his chest careful not to drop it.

Striker pins Blitzo beneath him, believing that Blitzo was under a spell: that somehow even in this raw new form Stolas had control of his future mate. His hand slides up Blitzo's thigh his voice a low seductive hiss as his hand reaches for the container.

Blitzo snaps at his fingers with his teeth, pulling the container closer to his chest a feral hiss at the back of his throat. warning the wrangler to tread lightly and with trepidation

That one act forces the cowboy to make brash erratic decisions on how to retrieve the accursed object from one of his most trusted generals. "Now Darlin, I think your making a terrible mistake, I am not the enemy hear?. There is a reason why you should never enter the in-between Blitzo Striker growls holding Blitzo down.

"Let me go! "Blitzo growls an ivory glow in his eyes. Striker moves his knee up to Blitzo's groin before kneading it. "Come on Blitzy, lets drop the act hand me that container and I'll make you feel real good partner"

"Or don't and I'll make you, writhe in pain I'll tare you open, twist you in ways that you can't even imagine"

I'll pump you full of my seed, I'll fill you every night till you writhe with in ectasy"

"I'd rather die! hisses Blitzo spitting into his face.

Striker wipes the spit from his face before cracking Blitzo's wrists snapping his ankles and shattering his bones. Blitzo cries out in pain.

Each inflection more jarring than the next.

But the IMP Boss, still adamant about freeing Stolas clutches the container for his life. "You don't know what your doing!, your making a mistake Striker!" Blitzo yells through clenching his teeth in pain

Striker only hisses his irritation as his tail slithers up Blitzo's torso wrapping around Blitzo's wrists forcing the jar to fall Striker catches it with deft ease as Verosika and Fizzuroli arrive on scene hearing the commotion. Striker snarls at them handing the container to the Succubus, while Fizzuroli looks around whistling at all the damage the two caused. Breathing heavily Striker remains on Blitzo telling the others to take Stolas far, far away- from the in-Between and his intended mate.

Knowing fully well he couldn't get rid of the Ares Goeita but by controlling Stolas he could keep Blitzo at his side until he could rattle the vermin's cage as to where Blitzo had hidden his own damnable soul. Before joining the big four.

For now until he could get his answers that's how things are Stolas reduced into his raw demonic essence: a soul-like variant of his former self. Only to be locked away in Striker's war cabinet where the snake could keep an eye on him.

Blitzo was no longer permitted to walks these corridors alone. Flanked on either side by Verosika and Fizzuroli or Striker himself. Striker had more questions than answers at this time keeping Blitzo broken in body alone, chained to his side.

His promise of torture was carried out every night: Verosika shuts her eyes to the sound of Blitzo screaming. the harsh creak of the bed. She is starting to have her doubts. Along with Fizzoralii who starts to believe that Striker is going too far. They quietly plot to u-surp the rising serpent overlord. Fizzouali looked at his many doubles, He was willing to go to war to protect his former Harlequin against this rising threat. With the reluctant help of the broken IMP members, Moxie and Millie who stayed in business by the hair of their teeth. Verosika is able to learn the whereabouts of Loona and Princess Octavia, the last heir of the Ares Goeita who is the new bearer of her father's Grimoire.

Verosika tells Loony about how her father is treated by vexing snake imp, that has laid claim to him. and how thin a line she walks every-time she enters the bedroom chambers to give Blitzo a much needed bath and time alone to soak. She relays how painfully light, Blitzo is now. and how it hurts to hear Blitzo talk, his voice cracks his eyes seem to have darken.

Loony pays Moxie a visit. Lighting his ass up. showing him clips and pictures Verosika has taken of her father. As she begins to open their eyes to the many tortures Blitzo was made to go through. Its up to Verosika and Fizzuroli to Free Blitzo and Bring him back home. To what remains of IMP headcounters.

How long can the Succubus and jester play along? Will Fizzouali implore his army of Robo-Fizzes to help Verosika free Blitzo from the tyrannical snake. Or will he sell her out?

And how long, will it take for the Snake Lord to catch on?

#Hellvua Boss #Striker/Blitzo #Stolas/Blitzo #Verosika/Blitzo #Fizzourali/Blitzo #Badass Loony #Villian Striker.#(Overlord Series)#Explicate scenes #fanfiction

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btssmutficslovingfan01 · 5 years ago

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Just Fine (1)

Summary: Things are going great with you and your two boyfriends until you and Jimin get jealous when you see Jungkook cozying up to another man. Who knew punishing him would be so much fun?

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Slight Angst

Warnings: Mistress Kink, Light Bondage, Degradation, Water Fun, Daddy Kink, Switch! Jimin, Switch! Reader, Switch! Jungkook, Mentions of Vkook

**Words: 2k+ **

Next >>

Paring(s): Jimin x Reader x Jungkook

_______________________________________________

“That brat, I wish I could just-”

“I know, Jiminie. I know.” Jungkook was currently “talking” to a friend of his, an old classmate of Jimin’s, Taehyung.

“We have to punish him. What do you think?” Jimin looks at you, his eyes filled with lust.

“I think that’s a great idea. Just gotta get the brat out of here now.” You turn on the balls of your heel, walking the opposite direction.

“Where are you going?” Jimin looks between you and his boyfriend, unsure on who to run to.

“Home. I know tonight was a big night for you, but I just can’t stand seeing this anymore.” You walk out, flipping your hair behind you.

Jimin reluctantly follows you, his heart heavy as he gives Jungkook one last look of longing, and then he finally sits in the passenger seat, as you drive.

“What are we gonna do?” He quietly asks to himself, thinking aloud. You reach over and put your hand on his. Jungkook normally doesn’t flirt with other people. Jimin was more of a flirtatious type when you first met him, but then after you officially started dating, he changed his ways. He became more attentive and caring, and you gave him that attention and love. And then once Jungkook joined, you equally split your heart for them both. You know that Jungkook loves you, but after seeing the way he was touching Taehyung and whispering in his ear and doing all the things he does with you and Jimin, you just felt a little...unloved.

“It’s gonna be okay, Chim. Kookie loves us, but I’m pretty sure the brat’s forgetting who he belongs to. We just need to remind him.” You pull into the driveway and then you take your boyfriend’s hand as you walk towards the house. It normally ends this way, with either one of the boys coming back with you while the other gets drunk out of his mind. But this time, you didn’t tell Jungkook that you were leaving. And your best bet is that he’s gonna be mad when he gets back. He may not seem like it, but that man is just a pile of stress waiting to blow up.

“Hey Chim, remind me, have we ever used the chains before?” You ask, grabbing the metal with your fingers.

“N-no. What chains are you talking about?” You lift it up so that he can examine them. They are just glorified handcuffs, custom made for the purpose of purely kinky sex.

“These chains,” You show him where to connect them. “Wanna try em on? Give Kookie a little show when he gets back?” You allow some of your dominant persona to slip out as you speak to Jimin, his voice caught in the back of his throat as he tries responding. The best he can do is whine. “You know the drill. Clothes off, I wanna see you again, baby boy.” With your order, Jimin is already stripping, scrambling for the edge of the bed and sitting down where you usually have him.

“How do you want me, mistress?” He asks, his long eyelashes batting as he looks in your direction. The way his hips move across the sheets are sinful, and he is just a picture.

“I want to ride you, baby. Is that okay with you?” You always ask for consent, even if you have been dating for a long time. There’s never been a time where either of you refused, but everyday with Jimin is a mystery.

“Yes mistress.” He moves up to the center of the bed, as you kiss him fully on the lips. You always start slow, building up to the climax. The bed creaks as he settles in one spot, and you climb onto his lap, teasing him with you short dress and red lace panties. You were debating on whether you should wear red or blue, since red is Jungkook’s favorite color, and blue is Jimin’s favorite. In your opinion, red made you feel more sexy and appealing, so you wore it for yourself. You sigh when you realize Jungkook isn’t here to see you, but at least you have one half of your heart right beneath you. “Mmmm, you feel so warm.” He moans, bucking his hips up and running his fingers up and down your sides.

“You want me to fuck myself on you?” Your breathing is uneven, and your hair is disheveled from all of Jimin’s tugging.

“Yes, please!” He begs, his dick hardening to the point where you can no longer tease him.

“You’re always so big for me, Jiminie. Such a good pup.” Your moans invoke a primal response in him, as he thrusts upwards into you when you slather down on him. You didn’t even bother removing your dress, just taking off your panties while you ride Jimin to your high.

“You’re so tight, Mistress. Tight and warm because you’re my home.” He grunts, his thrusts growing sloppier and his hands groping your breasts as you leaned down to connect your lips with his. You dress somehow comes off, being forgotten on the floor along with your bra and panties. You don’t care, however, you focus solely on Jimin. You both have a simultaneous orgasm, calling out each other’s names in harmony as you cum.

“Jimin-ah.” You look at him after breaking the prolonged kiss, and he runs his fingers over your eyes, which are glistening with tears.

“Are you okay?” You want to tell him exactly what you are feeling, but a pang of guilt in your heart doesn’t let you.

“I’m feeling just fine.” You close your eyes as he presses a light kiss to your forehead, and then suddenly, you’re shackled. You don’t care, as Jimin takes control and pushes you on your back. You actually feel really good, with him inside you, skin against skin. You just can’t help wondering if Jungkook was cheating on you, in this very moment. He couldn’t, right? “Fuck me harder, Jimin, just please nnghhh!” You let out a cry, the tears spilling from your eyes as your boyfriend fucks you while your hands are pinned above your head, and you can’t move because of the chains binding you to the headboard. It’s just your arms, though, as you can move the rest of your body just fine. Your boyfriend senses your discomfort as he starts peppering kisses down your chest and leaving hickies in his wake.

“I know you miss him. He’ll be back soon, he just texted me. Let’s give him a proper show,” Your mind goes blank as your baby boy pounces on you, and he flips you on your side, before sliding back into you in an awkward angle. “You’re like a drug to me, I can’t live without you.” He moans into your neck, thrusting quickly and making your body clench at the sounds of his melodic voice.

“I’m sorry, I just feel like I’ve let you down,” You purse your lips as he slows down, and you allow yourself to let go as he moves with ease. He pulls out, cumming on your stomach. “Why didn’t you…?”

“Cum inside you? Because you’re sad. You hate it when one of us gives you creampies when you’re sad,” He turns you back around, so you can face him properly. “Now, why do you feel like this?” You hate it whenever your boyfriend gives you a therapy session, but if he doesn’t, then who will? You just want to talk to someone, because of how horrible you’ve been feeling lately.

“It’s because I can’t get my mind off Jungkook. I’m just so afraid of losing him...on top of that I can’t give you the proper attention you deserve. Life is just really stressful right now, with us trying to hide our relationship from the public, and your groupmates,” He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms holding you tightly as you sink into his chest.

“On top of that, I’ve barely been able to sleep because I feel so...so terrible!” You confess your true feelings to your kind-hearted boyfriend. Instead of getting mad, or reacting badly like all of the men you had in your life the past, he shows understanding and patience as he kisses you gently.

“I know what can make you feel better...vanilla, right?” You briefly break the kiss to meet eyes with him and confirm it once again.

“I just wanna feel you…” You admit, as he kisses your neck comfortingly.

“Mmm, what about punishing JK?” He asks. You bite your lip as his warm lips meet the surface of your cool skin.

“That can wait. I’m with you right now, aren’t I?” You wink as he presses his lips against yours again. You sigh into the kiss, feeling much more confident and a lot better than you felt before. He gently rocks his hips against your, his dick teasing your entrance as he slides down and after many moans of protest, you take him into your hands and you push him back inside, making you feel complete again. He gently nudges you down, and then after you get comfortable with your legs around his torso, he starts moving. Moans of pleasure spill out of your mouth, his name on your lips as he sinfully tortures you with his cock.

“Always so tight for me. This delicious cunt, wet and slick, yet you’re still so tight.” His eyes shut as he throws his head back, his hair draped around his head like a curtain of silk. Both of your moans echo each other, but mostly you, as he gives you a generous amount of pleasure.

“Jimin, I’m close.” You pant, as he starts rolling his hips into yours, making your eyes flutter open at the sudden intensity and heat that travels from his body to yours. You’ve never felt anything like it, usually sex with Jimin or Jungkook is light, you’ve never done anything too kinky before. So why, why is this time different? As he releases his knot inside you, you both let out a heavy moan in sync, and you feel heat buzzing from your core all the way to your head, and you think he feels it too, as he stares down at you with wide eyes and a smile, pulling out gently.

“More...I need more.”

“My greedy little slut,” His words astonish you, as you had never been one for degradation before. “You want my cock?” He looks at you as his seed leaks onto the bed, straight out from under you. “Lick it. Lick it clean.” An aura of dominance emanates from him, as he sits upright, leaning against a pillow as you crawl up to him, your pussy a bit sore from the sex. You lazily kiss the head, palming him as well, and then using your strength, you lean forward and push him further into your throat. “Fuck, just like that, whore. Greedy little bitch want to devour my dick whole, don’t you?” His words awaken your inner slut. You didn’t like being degraded in the slightest, but because it was none other than Park Jimin saying it to you, you didn’t mind. You actually felt more turned on, that he was taking control of the situation. Such Switch-like behavior. You let out a moan in response when he suddenly pushes your head down, and the rest of his dick disappears into your throat, making you choke as he fucks your mouth. “So hungry for dick. Insatiable little slut.” He teases as you tear up, and then when your teeth lightly scratch the sides of his dick, his face goes white. He stays still and quiet as you slowly push off the bed, his cock erect, red, and angry as the cold air hits him again. A flicker of worry crosses his eyes, when he thinks he hurt you, but then your surprise him with your next actions.

You lie down with your back touching the bed, and then you tilt your head up as Jimin hovers over you.

“Fuck my mouth like you do with your favorite toy, daddy.” With your words, Jimin jumps. His dick is suddenly sliding in and out of your mouth, curses falling from his beautiful lips as you squeeze his plump ass and swallow all of his cum, not even wasting a single drop as it flows out. He slows down, as you swallow carefully, and then after he’s done, he pulls out, replacing his dick with his lips. You smirk into the kiss as he tastes himself in you, and then you hear your stomach growl.

“Uh-oh, looks like someone’s hungry for real food.” He lets out a light chuckle before leaving the bed and grabbing a towel to clean you up.

“But I don’t want real food, your dick is enough for me.” Your comment has Jimin in a fit of laughter as he kisses you again and then wipes you with a fluffy towel.

“Why don’t we take a bath after dinner? We can continue later, you’re exhausted.” He throws the towel aside before putting on a pair of boxers and an undershirt.

“Okay, fine.” You both make your way to the kitchen after changing into some fresh clothes and then after eating some ramen, Jimin runs a bath for you. It’s only 9 pm, but it feels like days have passed since you’ve seen Jungkook.

“Y/N, the bath’s ready!” He calls you as you strip off each article of clothing, fully naked by the time you reach the door. “Do you want me to wash your hair?” He asks as you open the door. He grins when he sees your naked state, and you can see the excitement in his boxers as he motions for you to come forth.

“Leave the door unlocked. I want Kook to see what he’s missing.” You capture his lips with yours, surprising him a little by your sudden lust-driven actions. You drape your naked body around his, tugging his shirt off and slowly nudging the boxers away before making your next move. You push him into the water, and as the water rises, your kisses get deeper and sloppier. He reaches back and pulls the hair tie from your hair, releasing it and allowing it to fall down your back. You moan as his hands grope your ass, and he moans as you rub his hardened nipples.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asks between kisses.

“I just wanted to show you how much I love you. And if Kook doesn’t come home, that’s just fine.” You continue kissing your boyfriend, as his erection pokes your butt.

“Ride me again, babygirl.” He urges you with a deep, husky voice, which is unexpected from Jimin. As you slide into him, the water creates a suction effect and you find it hard to move, since you’re glued together. You share a kiss before he spins you around and while your bare ass is in the air, and his hands are on your cheeks, Jungkook walks right in.

“Well, well, well, what have we got here?”

“Jungkook!” Your vision starts blurring because of the tears in the corners of your eyes. Jimin takes his hands off your ass as Jungkook dives into the water, fully naked.

“Thank Goodness we got this three person tub, huh?” You throw your arms around your second boyfriend, as he teases you for being a crybaby. During all this time, you notice that Jimin is being particularly quiet. “What’s up with you?” Jungkook looks over at his boyfriend, confused by Jimin’s sudden change in attitude.

“We didn’t like seeing a brat like you flirt around with other people.” Jimin’s voice matches his personality, as you can sense the anger in his voice as well.

“And brats like you deserve to be punished.” You grab Jungkook’s chin as Jimin’s hand grips his cock, and you both corner him.

“N-no, you misunderstood-”

“Shut up and take your punishment like a man. Don’t cum without my permission either. Mistress doesn’t like it when brats disobey her.” You coo in his ear, making him shudder from the pressure of Jimin squeezing his dick.

“You gonna be a good boy for us? So that we’ll suck your cock nice and slow?” Jimin’s dominant side comes out again as he has Jungkook whimpering underneath him.

“Y-yes daddy.” He stays still as you both attack him, your lips against his as Jimin lets his lips wander down to his nipple. Jungkook lets out a gasp and then you see it: white jizz floating in the clear water.

“You came.” You break the kiss and stand up, Jimin doing the same. Jungkook whimpers in fear. “Get out of the tub and follow us.”

___________________________

A/N: Next part out now!! I feel bad for iphone users so here you go! Part 2

#jikookxreader #jimin #jungkook #jimin smut #bts #smut #jungkook smut #poly #smutcentralnet

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breathinginthevapor · 5 years ago

Text

“Can I sleep here tonight?”

Summary: When faced by the loneliness of staying on campus for spring break, you decide to pay a visit to your best friend Jacob. Only, it seems you’ve forgotten he’s with his parents, but luckily, Jacob’s roommate and fellow drama major, Tom, is there, and offers you some company.

A/N: This is written for the lovely @bringmethehorizonandpizza ‘s writing challenge in celebration of her 21th birthday, so happy birthday, Anne! I chose the blurb “Can I sleep here tonight” and I personally think the result ended up pretty cute. Feedback would be very much appreciated!

Word count: 5200+

T/W: Swearing

Masterlist

It’s raining outside, pouring, even. The sky is dark, and the blackness creeps onto you, making you shudder. You’ve always hated being out in the dark, especially while alone, and not even the beautiful full moon can make you feel better. It feels like every shadow is lurking on you, and the yellow light from the street lights only makes it worse. You curse yourself far away for watching that serial killer documentary, knowing that your brain would process the horrific details and let them surface in a moment like this.

The rain soaks through your clothing and hair, making everything cling tightly to your skin. If it wasn’t for your vehement hatred against umbrellas in general and your lack of raincoat because you were stupid enough to forget it last time you went home, you wouldn’t have been so surely catching a cold.

But well, stubbornness and stupidity brought this on you, and a cold luckily won’t kill you. It won’t even be as bad as staying in your own dorm room, listening to every footstep outside your door and getting more and more scared while the extreme stress of all your unfinished assignments and loneliness lays just underneath the fright.

Still, you are about to turn on your heel and run home when you finally reach the dorm, relief shooting through your body.

As soon as you step inside the hallway, the smell of junk food, sweat and boy hits you, but more importantly, a warmth that makes you realise how your teeth are clattering and goose bumps covering your skin.

A rap song you faintly recognise but wouldn’t know any words of plays behind one of the doors, and you can hear the sound of a shower a little down the hall. It’s still audible when a brunette walks out of the door, only clad in a white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. He has a deliciously toned stomach, you acknowledge, a sight for sore eyes, for sure.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” the guy asks, just as you’ve realised who it is. You immediately feel your cheeks turn hot while you try not to look at his exposed torso. Surprisingly, he doesn’t seem anywhere near as flustered as you.

You wonder if it’s an actor thing, not being as easily ashamed as “normal” people, because Jacob’s exactly the same way.

“Hey Tom,” you mutter, glancing at a shabby concert poster on the wall instead of him. You can’t make yourself look at him, not now, at least.

“I was just- I wanted-,” you start, but you don’t know what to say, really. The reason for your visit seems both embarrassing and stupid now.

And then, to make matters much, much worse, you start crying. At least the tears are a little warmer water than the rain that’s already slid down your face, but opposed to the rain, your cries make the whole situation far weirder.

“I’m just really lonely, and I watched that creepy new documentary on Netflix, and then I thought Jacob would be able to cheer me up, but I’ve just realised that he isn’t even here, and I really don’t wanna go back to my dorm, but I guess it’s my only choice,” you sobbingly ramble, the hurried and uncontrolled way the words leave your mouth reminding you of the feeling of puking.

Fortunately, you’re 95% sure you didn’t actually puke. That would have been the cherry on top of your bad day, truly.

You’re absolutely certain that Tom will respond with something awkward and then close the door to his dorm room in your face, but instead, he walks to you and engulfs you in a warm hug.

In spite of the uncomfortable feeling of your soaked shirt against his bare chest and the clear awkwardness of hugging a hot shirtless guy whose lower body is only hidden by a towel, it’s a nice hug. Especially because he doesn’t let go of you after the usual few seconds that such embraces last.

You cry into his chest as he soothingly caresses your back, and miraculously, your eyes stop dropping tears, and your breathing slows down. You can feel your body heat rise, the warmth of his body affecting yours.

“Thank you,” you mumble, the unfamiliar feeling of your lips moving against his naked skin causing goose bumps to rise on your skin once more. It reminds you all too much of your dark fantasies, the ones you’d never admit to anyone, the ones where your lips move against his skin just like now, but under much different circumstances.

He releases you and eyes you with a soft, worried expression on his face. Your focus shifts for a swift second to a pearl of water that runs from his wet hair down the side of his face, leaving a shimmering trail. His skin looks flushed, perhaps he rinsed it while showering, and his forehead and chin are a little spotty, but it doesn’t make him any less handsome.

“I know I’m not Jacob,” he says, biting his lip and pulling your focus back from his facial features, “but do you wanna stay in my room for a while? I don’t want you to go home like this, especially not in this weather.”

You can’t believe how sweet he is, first letting you cry your eyes out against his chest and then offering you his company. It’s not at all helping you get rid of the crush you have on him, and perhaps it would be healthier for your budding feelings to go home, but you only have to think about laying alone in your dorm room for a second before you make up your mind.

“Are you sure? It’s my own fault for forgetting that he’s with his parents, and I don’t want to intrude.”

He grins widely at you, grabbing your hand and pulling you after him. “Of course! I’m sick of watching Friends on my own anyway.”

You laugh, feeling happier than you have in what feels like a terribly long time. At least ever since most of your friends, including both Jacob and your roommate, went home over spring break and left you on campus with long-ass assignments, nobody to talk to and one hell of a mess in your room.

You’re also pretty sure your roommate had some sort of existential crisis before going home as she kept mumbling about breaking up with her boyfriend and how he would hate her for it and then if she had remembered to pack her favourite yellow dress, although she’s told you about a hundred times that she hates wearing dresses. Besides, you’ve never seen her wear anything that wasn’t black.

Her mental state resulted in a terrible mess in your room, at you just can’t bear to look at the scattered school books, crumpled pieces of clothing or half-eaten packs of jelly beans anymore.

“Well, make yourself at home. I’ll- uhm, I’ll put on some clothes,” he tells you once he’s closed the door behind you, clearly remembering how little he’s wearing.

“I’ll just turn around and cover my eyes,” you stutteringly assure him, following your own instructions and adding a small joke to try to ease the tension, “I promise I won’t look.”

He chuckles, sounding a bit more relaxed. You hear him shuffle around and then exclaim a muffled sound, similar to the ones you let out when you get stuck in a shirt or sweater.

“Are you stuck?” you giggle.

“I was, but I’m good now,” he answers, sounding out of breath. “You can look, by the way, I’m fully dressed.”

You remove your palms from your face and turn around, sitting down on Jacob’s bed. Tom’s wearing a grey sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, and he looks so soft it takes everything in you not to jump into his arms or squeeze his cheeks. You have to remind yourself that you don’t even know him that well, that just because you’ve heard so much about Tom from Jacob, it doesn’t mean that you’re, by any means, close with the boy. You wish you were.

He crooks his head and looks at you with furrowed eyes, glancing up and down your body.

“D’you want a towel to dry off? And maybe some dry clothes? I don’t want to overstep, but I’d also hate myself if I was the reason for you getting sick.”

The apple of his cheeks grows to resemble, yes, (red) apples, as he scratches his neck and shoots you an uncomfortable glance.

A lump forms in your throat, amazed at his hospitality and kindness. You nod, “You’re not overstepping at all. Actually, you’re being scarily sweet. Sure an alien isn’t possessing you?”

He laughs, “Yeah. Pretty sure. Just naturally this charming,” he winks at you.

“That’s what someone possessed by aliens would say, though,” you point out, trying to ignore how flustered you got at his gesture. He shakes his head at you with a big grin.

“Careful now, if you’d like to avoid the flu,” he jokes, picking a green towel from the cabinet and throwing it at you. “Tee or sweatshirt?”

You shrug, already drying of your hair with the towel, “Don’t care.”

You’re barely able to catch the blue hoodie that flies through the air, inches from hitting you in the head.

“Shorts or sweats?” he then inquiries, holding both a pair of football shorts and a pair of sweats that looks identical to the ones he’s wearing.

“Shorts,” you decide, this time ready to receive the black fabric.

“Do you want me to wait in the hallway while you get changed?” he offers, closing the cabinet and smiling softly at you.

You shake your head, returning his smile, “No no, just turn around.”

“You sure?” he checks, and you nod, assuring him that you are. He turns around, drying his brown locks in the white towel he’s already used in the shower as you quickly slip off your wet garments and put on Tom’s instead.

When you pull the shirt over your head, the smell of Tom hits your nostrils, a delicious mixture of citrus, musk and washing powder.

“All decent,” you tell him once you’re fully clothed, and he turns to you again, walking to his own bed and sitting down.

You’re facing each other, the narrowness of the room causing your knees to be just inches apart, so close that your bare legs can feel the warmth radiating from his.

“Do you wanna talk about what upset you, or should I just ramble about something completely else?” he offers, a sweet smile on his lips.

You bite your lip, feeling out of place even though you’ve been in the room to visit Jacob countless times.

It’s a nice and cosy place, much tidier than most boy dorm rooms. There are movie posters on the wall, both old, classic ones and newer comedies. It smells good, too, like masculine deodorant with only a tiny and actually not all-too-bad hint of sweat, perhaps caused by the few pieces of sports clothing discarded on the floor.

Tom quickly rises from his seat on the bed to put it in the laundry basket when he notices you eyeing the stuff. He continues with quick, clumsy movements to clean up after himself, almost tripping over his own feet.

“Sorry it’s so messy,” he sheepishly apologizes.

You shake your dismissingly, “Don’t think you’ve been to Mark Smith’s room if you think this is messy.”

His gaze is still shy, stuttering as he replies, “Do-do you- erhm- do you spend a lot of time in Mark’s room?”

“No,” you deny, noticing how his shoulder relaxes at your words, “Not really my type, to be honest. Just did a group project with him a couple weeks ago.”

“Oh,” he mutters, sitting down again.

“To answer your question from before, I’ve just felt really lonely during the break. Don’t really wanna talk about it, though.”

“Fair. Wanna watch a movie instead?” he proposes, and you nod. He stands back up, fetching the laptop from his backpack before dumping back on the bed for the third time, kicking his feet up and getting under the duvet.

He shuffles close to the wall, patting the space next to him on the bed. “Do you wanna sit here? Unfortunately, my laptop isn’t as big as a telly, so you’ll see much better over here.”

You feel your palms grow sweaty as you nod, leaving Jacob’s bed in favour of joining Tom. You sit down on the duvet, legs touching through the cover and your shoulder bumping into his while the back of your hands almost brush, laying side by side.

“What do you wanna watch?” he inquires.

“Dunno,” you shrug, “Maybe that new Thor movie?”

His features brighten, an excited grin on his face. “Yeah? I’ve been wanting to watch it for ages but haven’t gotten around to it.”

“Then let’s do it,” you smile, your gaze switching from the screen to his face while he finds the movie.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to him. Being so near to him makes you able to stare at him without getting interrupted, and you realise he’s even more handsome than you thought.

Or, maybe he’s not, because he surely looks almost angelic, perfect, even, from afar, but of course he isn’t any of those things. He’s human, and he’s got moles and acne and zits and scars like everybody else, but you can’t help but think that these small imperfections just make him look more attractive. Unfair.

Then, the opening music of the movie plays, and you turn your eyes to the screen again.

You’re completely captivated by the story unfolding for your eyes until the very end, only realising how tired you’ve become when you yawn while the ending credits roll.

“Well, I guess it’s getting kinda late,” Tom trails off, looking unsure. His words immediately send you back into a different mood, replacing the content, relaxed one.

“Uhm, yeah, I guess,” you mumble, looking down. You’re barely able to hold back the tears, every fibre of your body feeling uncomfortable at the thought of returning to your own room.

“I- You… I completely understand if you say no, and you have every right to, but I was just wondering,” you pause, suddenly losing to courage to ask.

“Yes?” he encourages you with a smile.

“Can I- Can I sleep here tonight?” you whisper, your heart sinking when his eyes extract into a surprised expression and a surprised sound, almost like a small gasp, leaves his throat.

He runs a hand through his hair, but it gets stuck for a few second when he hits a knot in the tousled locks. He seems to fight it, his focus turning from you to his hair for a moment before he bites his lip, looks down and nods.

“Yeah, of course,” he assures you. “Of course, you can,” he repeats with a low voice, sounding like it’s something he tells himself rather than you.

“Are you sure?”

This time, he seems more convinced, eyes meeting yours, “Wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t.”

You shoot him a smile you hope looks grateful, and it’s quickly returned with a grin of his own.

“Anyway, it’s not the first time you’ve slept here, is it?” he points out, changing both the subject and atmosphere to a more easy-going one.

You giggle, hit by memories of drunkenly dropping down on Jacob’s bed and not having the energy or self-restraint to get up again before you woke up the next morning with a massive headache and killer breath next to the Hawaiian/Filipino boy.

“I guess it isn’t,” you agree.

“Before Jacob met Alyssa, I thought,” he pauses, swallowing, looking at you expectantly like you’re supposed to know what he’s hinting at. But you don’t, and he seems to realise that as he elaborates, “That you two were… a thing.”

You can’t help but laugh, “Me and Jacob?”

Tom nods, confirming.

“Oh god, he’s like a brother to me, that would be disgusting!”

“Dunno, you just seemed really close,” he explains.

You shrug, “Well, we are really close, but we aren’t exactly each other’s types. There’s never been anything more than friendly between us, ever.”

“I think you’re everybody’s type, Y/N,” he blurts out, looking horrified afterwards.

You can feel the heat rush towards your face, wondering what exactly he meant by that compliment.

Because it is a compliment, right? It must be.

“I didn’t mean- I don’t- I-,” he starts, a panicked look on his face, before he calms himself down with a deep breath that you try to match to get your own heart under control. “Erhm, yeah, just can’t really comprehend how anyone wouldn’t think you were absolutely amazing.”

You can’t believe how courageous he is, telling someone he barely knows something so personal. And yeah, you already knew he was brave, having seen him perform in plays and knowing that he dreams to become an actor, a profession that takes insane amounts of courage, baring yourself to strangers every day, but this seems different. This isn’t a job or a dream or an artform. This is the real life, and it’s scary. At least you think so.

Though perhaps you aren’t as unfamiliar to each other as you have convinced yourself you are.

You think back on all those mornings hungover with Jacob, and you can’t come up with one where Tom didn’t go with you to get breakfast, terribly chirpy and energetic while telling you about some prank his brothers had pulled on him once or a weird audition he went to.

You recall some of those small comments he made when he studied in the room while you were hanging out with Jacob, seemingly keeping up with the conversation enough to add his thoughts every once in a while.

And you remember those parties where you and Jacob managed to convince Tom to tag along, watching him dance surprisingly great (it took a while before you found out he had danced a lot growing up, even starring in Billy Elliot), loose fatally in beer pong and shy away from all the girls who made a move on him, shooting you desperate glances before you saved him from their drunk persistence with an apologetic smile to the girl and a tight grip on his bicep.

“Thank you,” you mumble while you feel your skin heat up, something it does an awfully lot today. “That’s really sweet of you to say.”

He offers you a small smile, “Just telling the truth.”

No need to say, you blush even harder.

But before you can reply with a compliment of your own or at least explain to him how much his words mean to you, he abruptly changes the subject, “We should probably get ready for bed. I don’t have a spare toothbrush, and I’d offer to lend you mine if it wasn’t, you know, terribly unhygienic and gross.”

You chuckle, “Thanks for the thought, but I’ll manage with my finger if I could just get a bit of toothpaste.”

“Of course.”

You brush your teeth side by side in the claustrophobic miniature bathroom, once in a while catching each other’s eyes in the mirror before shyly looking away. It’s like a game, and you can’t stop playing, not when his words from before are repeated in your head over and over again.

“Have you asked Jacob if it’s okay with him that you sleep in his bed? I’m sure it is, and I’ll just take the floor if it isn’t, but I’d just rather that he knows.”

You nod after spitting out the toothpaste, “Just sent him a text.”

Not even five seconds later, your phone buzzes with a text from your mutual friend.

Jacob: Of course!

You turn your phone to Tom to show him that Jacob has agreed to your arrangement, but then you see Tom’s eyes enlarge and a blush creep across his cheeks and look at the phone yourself.

Jacob: Just don’t get frisky in my bed, lovebirds.

You can’t believe him. That really wasn’t needed, especially with the tension already so weird. You try to laugh, but the awkward cough-like sound doesn’t even convince yourself, and you abruptly go quiet, making it seem, if possible, even more fake.

Luckily, Tom acts like nothing happened, asking you if you’re ready for bed.

“Feel like I’ll collapse soon so it’s probably for the best,” you agree.

He smiles at your comment and returns to the dorm room, plopping down on the bed. You don’t know what to say, and the silence is thick and unpleasant as you lay there in your respective beds, staring at the ceiling.

Then, Tom clears his throat and turns of the bedside lamp, leaving the room in darkness.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says.

“Goodnight, Tom,” you whisper back, feeling your heart pumping in your chest while you inwardly curse yourself being such a coward. Usually, you’re good at taking the first step when you’re interested in or intrigued by someone, but this feels different. Like a no from Tom would be much worse than a no from all those other sweet, pretty guys you’ve had a crush on.

But you take a deep breath and try to calm your nerves before speaking up with a low voice, “Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for letting me sleep here.”

“No problem,” he assures you, voice soft.

“I’m really glad you were here today,” you start, convincing yourself not to chicken out. “I feel like I’ve kinda gotten to know you a bit because of Jacob, and I know we don’t really talk that much just the two of us, but,” you take another deep breath, knowing that your next words will possibly make it terribly awkward for you to visit Jacob, “I wish we did. I just never know what to say because you’re this sweet, funny, hot drama major, and then I just chicken out.”

Although it’s dark, your eyes have gotten used to it, and you’re thereby able to make out his features when he turns around to face you, laying on his side. There’s a small smile on his face, his brown eyes glistens and his hair is a mess, but an incredibly cute one.

“What’s my major got to do with anything?” he just asks, and you almost tear up. He clearly doesn’t like you, he wouldn’t have asked about something like that if he did, and you try to tell yourself that at least you know now, and that you can move on instead of spending most of your day thinking about Tom. It doesn’t really help all too much, though.

You chuckle half-heartedly, “Dunno, you’re just all so confident and brave, and that’s kinda intimidating, I guess.”

He doesn’t answer, and instead you lay in silence looking at each other, until Tom turns back to laying on his back, and you’re sure that you’ve ruined everything there was to ruin between the two of you. You mentally prepare yourself to the prospect of having to go home to your lonely dorm room, catching a cold in the rain and your only company for the rest of the break another stupid Netflix series while you cry your eyes out.

“You think I’m hot?” he then inquires, and at least he’s not ordering you to leave yet.

“Um, yeah? Half of the school does, to be honest,” you bitterly acknowledge, recalling all those times where you caught girls (and every now and then a boy, although the boys in general seem less interested) looking dreamily at him or slipping him their number or even those parties where you saved him from other students flirting with him. You get mad at yourself for thinking that you were better than those people, thinking you had just a slightly bigger chance than them, just because you know him and talk to him regularly, when in reality, you’re just as hopelessly crushing as the rest of them. Perhaps even worse because he’s an actual part of your life and not just a cute guy on campus.

He laughs quietly, “Then I think you should get your eyes tested ‘cause you’re clearly blind. People don’t find me attractive.”

“It’s true. Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed how people throw themselves at you. I have to rescue you from at least two at every party,” you remind him.

“They’re just drunk. I could be a 70-year-old with a Gandalf beard, and they would be too pissed to notice,” he protests, making you roll your eyes. Fortunately, he can’t see as his gaze is still fixated on the ceiling.

“No, they aren’t. And even if they were, what about that redhead in the cafeteria last week, or the boy with the glasses at the diner?“ you argue, his only response a muffled sound, seemingly agreeing with you. He doesn’t really have a choice, though, because everyone who was there with you at the diner when the guy asked Tom out jokes about it. Tom’s perplexed reaction made it almost too easy for you to make fun of him, really.

Then, there’s another minute of silence before Tom faces you once more and slowly, almost carefully as if he’s tasting every word, asks, “Y/N, do you like me?”

Now, you tell yourself, you’ll get thrown out, and you’ll never get to hear another of Tom’s stupid jokes or clever comebacks to Jacob’s joking insults and you’ll probably also need to find another place to crash when your roommate is fucking another girl as she does at least once a week, and it’s just terrible.

But you still answer his question truthfully.

“Yeah,” you whisper, closing your eyes to avoid seeing his face when he rejects you.

“As more than a friend?” he checks.

“Yeah,” you repeat, scrunching your eyes even closer together.

Then he starts laughing, the act surprising you so much that your eyes fly open to look at him, although it’s still too dark to see his features properly. At first, you’re confused, but then you just feel even more humiliated. Are your feelings really so strange he has to make fun of them?

However, he proves you wrong when he turns on the light and stands up energetically, looking almost giddy. You can’t look away, and you’re just awaiting the deathblow, but it doesn’t come.

“I don’t even know what to with myself,” he chuckles, the grin on his face so bright you’re sure it could light up the room, if the light wasn’t already turned on, of course. “I’ve been pining after you for so long, and I didn’t believe Jacob when he said that you wouldn’t reject me if I made a move, but this is, like, the dream!”

Your tiredness causes you to become confused, not understanding what he says immediately. And then, your lack of confidence and the long time you’ve spent thinking that Tom didn’t feel anything for you but friendship, forces you to tell yourself that it can’t be real, that he must joking.

“I’m sorry, am I coming on too strong? I’m just really excited,” he explains, this time calmer.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” you whisper, shaking the covers off and slowly sitting up on the bed.

“Are you making fun of me?” you then ask, because although it seems unlikely as Tom is one of the kindest and most considerate people you’ve ever met, the other alternative is even more unlikely.

“No! No, no, I would never,” he desperately assures you, sitting down beside you, his upper body turned against you as he bites his lip and looks you in the eye. “Why would you even think that?”

You shrug, and he takes your hand in his, and although his palm is sweaty, you can’t help but feeling that you’ve never experienced anything as amazing as the feeling of his palm in yours and his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

You look down at your joined hands, the realisation slowly hitting you. He likes you. Tom likes you.

“I dunno. It just never seemed like you liked me back,” you mumble, a thousand thoughts and feelings shooting through your head, driving you to the point of dizziness.

He looks bewildered at you, like you’ve said something unbelievable.

“Are you telling me you haven’t noticed how I stare at you for literally hours and that I always tag along when you and Jacob hang out? Not to mention how I not even an hour ago blurted out that I thought you were everybody’s type.”

It makes sense when he puts it like that, but you still don’t think it’s that simple.

“Yeah, but then I told you how amazing I thought you were, and you just asked me why I mentioned your major!” you shoot back. “And you didn’t notice either how Jacob and I hang out here waaaay more than in my room, and that I always beg you to come party with us and that I’m acting like a creepy stalker all the time, watching over you like a hawk and becoming overly jealous and miserable every time someone flirts with you!”

You almost spit the words out, wanting to point out that you’re not the only one who’s been oblivious, but it looks like it has the opposite effect. Tom looks taken back by your outburst, watching you with wide eyes, and you absolutely hate yourself for being too much, like you always are, and it’s just so typical you.

But before you can do or say anything to save the situation, there’s a warm pair of lips pressing against your own. When you don’t react, too shocked to move any part of your body, the lips disappear almost as fast as they came and makes you wonder if it even happened at all.

Luckily, Tom’s guilty expression and next words assure that the kiss was real, “I’m so sorry, I should have asked you first, I’m really sorry-”

“No!” you cut him off, only making him look more terrified, so you decide it’s probably best to tone it down a little and speak with a calmer voice, “No, don’t be sorry. I just thought I had scared you away and ruined everything with that stalker-thing, so I was a little surprised, that’s all.”

His face slowly softens, a relieved noise leaving his mouth.

“It was nice. The kiss. Dreamt about doing that for a long time, to be honest,” you sheepishly add, making him smile.

“Me too,” he admits, and then he kisses you again. He releases your hand and grabs your face again while you bury your fingers in the small curls in his neck. His mouth is warm against yours, and you can’t believe it’s really happening.

You break apart first, panting a little as you rest your forehead against his, grinning.

“I really really really like you,” he admits happily, making you laugh just because you’re so tremendously ecstatic. The world feels light and so full of possibilities, completely opposite to how sad and lonely you felt a couple hours ago.

“I really really really like you, too,” you answer, and you can’t help but kiss him again, this time slipping your tongue through his lips, letting it taste the tip of his.

And well, when Jacob a couple days later comes home to you and Tom making out in Tom’s bed and sighs knowingly, you must admit that staying on campus for spring break wasn’t the worst decision you’ve made.

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