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If You'll Be My Bodyguard | Part Seven

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Summary: Circumstances beyond your control separate you from Austin and leave him vulnerable to attack. The outcome not only results in injury to him and Ari, but a realization of just what you and Austin mean to one another.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Bodyguard Reader

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Firearms, Austin Butler Does Not Win the Oscar - Just Like Real Life, Mentions of Reader’s Mother Being Attacked, Mentions of Reader’s Mother Being Injured, Discussion of Parental Mortality, Discussion of Automobile Accident, Discussion of Attempted Homicide With An Automobile, Austin Butler Injury, OC Male Character Injury, Austin Butler Hospitalization, Austin Butler Pain, Austin Butler Recovery, Reader Acting As Caregiver, Home Invasion, Attempted Shooting, Dog Bite to Intruder, Shots Fired, Minor Reader Injury, Allusions to Handcuff Kink, Mature/Explicit Themes [manual stimulation – m/f receiving, oral – m/f receiving, face sitting, sex while injured, multiple orgasms, condom, penetrative sex] – 18+ Only.

Credit: Mark Seliger

Author’s Note: And so we’ve reached the final chapter! Honestly, it is actually two chapters worth of material but I didn’t feel like adding another part of making y’all wait. So, strap in, there’s a lot to come!

Word Count: 8726

You were quite certain you had never seen someone lose more graciously. From desperately clinging to Angela Basset’s hands to surging to his feet to cheer on Brendan Fraser as he made his way to the stage, face wide with excitement for his fellow nominee and now Oscar winner. You were thankful to be standing beneath the shadow of the balcony box above as your heart fell through the floor and you were positive that you looked exactly as crestfallen as you felt.

Taking advantage of the time afforded by Brendan’s acceptance speech, and the Best Picture category, you managed to ruthlessly stomp down your disappointment and assemble your expression into a warm, kind, neutral mask before moving to join Austin once the broadcast came to an end. It took nearly an hour for him to make his way from the auditorium – there were simply that many people who wanted to snag a photo or offer their condolences. When you finally reached the doors, he looked to you and swallowed tightly.

“Let’s just go to Ysabel.” He murmured into your ear, and you nodded, sending Ari a message to meet you around the side, away from the press, to make a quick exit to the Warner Brother’s party.

While the Governor’s Ball would be lavish, with food and drink fit for royalty, it was undeniably biased towards celebrating the winners and you could hardly blame Austin for not wanting to go through that. Especially not when, waiting at the private party were people like Polly, Xavier, Kelvin, and Luke. As the car pulled up, you opened the door for him, looking up to his face as he held out a hand to help you in. You smiled softly and slid in carefully, moving across the backseat to the other side so he could climb in immediately after you. Though he did so chuckling and shaking his head.

“I coulda gone around, you know Betty.” He smirked softly and closed the door against the noise outside, leaning back against the seat as the silence of the car wrapped around the pair of you.

Ari carefully navigated his way to West Hollywood, and you politely watched the darkened streets flow past the window. The outcome of the evening was not sitting well with you. It felt like the wrong ending. Like the writer had made a terrible mistake and it just needed a brutal treatment by an editor. Unfortunately, real life did not work that way.

At the brush of his fingers against yours on the seat between you, you looked to him quickly, swallowing tightly as he took your hand and squeezed tightly.

“Thank you, Betty spaghetti, for helping me make it through the insanity of awards season. I’m sorry we’re not on the winning team tonight…” His voice waivered a bit and your fingers tightened around his. “But we’re on the living team and that’s in no small part to you…”

You shook your head, a touch violently, and took an unsteady breath as your heart clenched in sympathy.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Mr. Butler. What you have accomplished is truly extraordinary…d..did you hear them? Every time a presenter came on stage they referred to them as a nominee…you will forever be Academy Award Nominee Austin Butler. And not to mention Golden Globe Winner Austin Butler, and BAFTA winner Austin Butler, and Virtuoso Award Winner Austin Butler, and whatever Palm Springs gave you…” You trailed off and he gave you a laugh, with tear-filled eyes, as that definitely took some of the power out of your speech. “But regardless, this is just the start. Your opening act.” You nodded firmly and gasped as he pulled you into a crushing embrace, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder.

“Thank you, Betty…I really needed to hear that…” He whispered, voice fragile against your neck and you could feel the undeniable dampness of tears on your skin as you slid your arms around him tightly in return, holding him firmly for as long as he needed to be held.

“You’re welcome” You murmured softly into the expensive fabric of his tuxedo jacket, neither of you aware of the fact that Ari had parked around the corner from the restaurant a good five minutes ago until he politely cleared his throat.

“Sorry to interrupt but I believe a photographer may have spotted us.” He said quietly from the front seat and Austin quickly straightened, wiping at his face.

You pulled back with similar speed, tugging your dress into place before sliding out from the car to walk around the perimeter and open his door. Walking together, he entered the party to a hero’s welcome, which brought a small smile to his face.

Being swarmed by those who had seen firsthand what it had taken to achieve the artistry captured on film for eternity acted as a balm for Austin. You found the tension and concern leaving your own body a little as he relaxed and seemed to enjoy himself. And when Jerry Schilling showed up? Austin’s smile only grew. You had to chew on the inside of your cheek to keep from beaming as they huddled close on a bench in the courtyard, swapping stories and kind words. Austin’s instincts to come here had definitely been correct.

He ate a somewhat proper dinner and once buoyed by their love and support, made his way to you a little over an hour later.

“We should go meet the stylists at the house to get ready for the Vanity Fair party.”

You nodded quickly, having been eyeing the time and trying to wait as long as possible to allow him to soak in as much of their presence as he could.

“Ari is waiting exactly where we left him.”

While he went upstairs to change, you took advantage of the quiet moment to eat some dinner yourself, sitting at the island as you carefully enjoyed some leftovers with a tea towel draped over your chest. Biscuit was dozing at your feet, somewhat used to the odd hours of awards season, but still not entirely awake. The pair of you lifted your heads at the click of his heeled boots on the kitchen tile as he returned now dressed in a treacherously low-cut silk shirt and black suit. You were grateful that you remembered how to swallow the food in your mouth rather than letting it tumble out, slack-jawed. But only just.

“That still smells good, Betty, gimme a bite…” He leaned in and you carefully loaded a forkful before sliding it past his plush lips. You paid far too close attention to the way his perfectly straight, white teeth scraped the food from the metal fork tines before his lips seal shut as he began to chew.

He made the tiniest noise of pleasure and your eyes flicked up to watch his eyelids fall shut as he nodded with enthusiasm.

“We did a really good job on that one…” He smiled once he’d swallowed, squeezing your shoulder as he licked his lips. “I promise I won’t keep you out too late, you must be tired.”

You tugged the tea towel free of your body, not missing the way his eyes flit to the plunge of your dress. His height and your seated position surely giving him an eyeful before he yanked his gaze away forcefully. You slid from the stool to put your dishes in the dishwasher as goosebumps prickled in the wake of his stare.

“We are going to a party for you to have fun and celebrate the fact that this insanity is over. We will stay exactly as long as you would like.” You replied stubbornly and left Biscuit with dinner before leading him out to the car.

In the dark of the vehicle, you retrieved the tube of lipstick the makeup team had left you from your dress pocket and carefully reapplied some, trying to ignore the sensation that he was watching you.

In the ranking of afterparties, this was certainly the most press intense. There was also a rather breathless moment where Austin’s ex-girlfriend happened past him while he was in conversation with Sharon Stone. Mercifully, everyone did an excellent job of playing blind and after an assault of photography flash and shouted commands, you were inside the party.

There was mixing, mingling, drinking, and nibbling. Kate, Baz, Catherine and some of the Elvis cast also appeared. At one point Austin was pulled aside to have some photos taken by Mark Seliger. There was no shortage of toasts in his name, and when Brendan Fraser arrived he immediately sought Austin out to hug him close. Smiling fondly, you felt your phone begin to vibrate in your pocket and rolled your eyes playfully thinking Maddie was going on another tirade. Given the time, she really ought to be in bed.

You could barely contain your confusion when your father’s name displayed on the screen and felt a cold trickle of panic drip down your spine to settle in the pit of your stomach. Your father never called. Let alone in the middle of the night. You forcefully pushed the answer call button and lifted the phone to your ear, eyes casting about for somewhere quieter but also flicking back to Austin – torn between the urgency of this call and the importance of your duties.

“Hey dad, I…What’s up?” You found yourself half-shouting as you cupped the bottom of the phone to hopefully capture as much of your voice as possible.

Only select words were audible above the din of the crowd and the throb of the bass from the music.

“….mother….town….mugged��.hospital….ok….”

Austin was making his way over to you excitedly talking about a private island in the Bahamas that someone had offered for him to relax upon as you felt all the blood drain from your face and extremities, the snippets of your father’s words making your hands clammy and shaky.

“Daddy, just wait I can’t…” You glanced around frantically now, vaguely registering the change in Austin’s countenance.

His arms wrapped around you, hands gripping your hips as he easily navigated through the crowd to lead you out onto the patio. He did not stop walking until he reached the very edge of the party and continued to shield your body from the curious glances of the other attendees you had passed, caging you against the fence as you could at last hear yourself think.

“I’m outside now, what happened?” You tried again, feeling yourself swaying a little on your feet as he relayed the full story of some local troubled youths who had decided to mug your mother and her friends on their monthly night at the theatre in town.

You clutched at the lapel of Austin’s jacket, desperate for some stability as the entire universe seemed to be off kilter.

“Your mother’s friend, Cynthia, well she fought back and it…didn’t end well. Everyone is…well they’re hurt but the hospital discharged them all same day, today…well tonight.” You could hear the exhaustion in his voice. “She’s just gone up to bed, told me not to call you but…”

You shook your head quickly and swallowed roughly, trying to find your voice.

“No, no thank you for calling me I…she’s really going to be ok?” You asked quietly, feeling all of six-years-old despite the fact that you were standing in a gown at the Vanity Fair Oscar’s After Party wrapped up in Austin Butler’s protective embrace. “I…tell her I love her ok, Dad? I’ll…I’ll talk to my boss…No I…Dad. Dad, I want to see you guys I…thank you for calling. Love you too. Bye.”

You let the phone drop from your ear but made no move to stand fully, rather preferring to hide against Austin’s chest and ignore the outside revelry for as long as possible. You leaned into him, the crown of your head settling against the hollow of his throat as his arms slid around you fully, supporting you more than you would care to admit as you tried to take steady breaths.

“Betty, I would like to give you time, I just need to know you’re not going to keel over on me here…” He murmured gently into your ear. You nodded quickly, rocking back on your heels and straightening so quickly he looked briefly startled before resuming a patient and supportive expression.

“Some little shits decided to jump my mom and her friends on their way home from a play tonight.” Your gaze was unfocused as you were picturing the faces of the known delinquents.

“Oh Betty…” His voice broke as he gripped your shoulders tightly to help steady you on your feet.

“My mom…she’s not like me, she’s a lady. She does lady things like get her nails done, and bake, and go to the spa and the theatre and…This is not how tonight was supposed to go. She was supposed to have fun with her friends watching some local people do a Tennessee Williams play and get a little tipsy and come home….and you were supposed to win because you deserve it so much. You put everything in that role, which was incredible by the way” you dropped the wall of professionalism for the first time, “and you’ve dragged your ass around in this dog and pony show, performing tricks for them for weeks only for them to give it to the other guy and now here you are putting on a brave face and watching me fall apart at an after party…” Your cheeks were wet and you’d started sniffling somewhere in the middle of your tirade against awards season, though you weren’t quite sure when.

“Oh, my darling Betty…sweet Betty spaghetti don’t waste your anger on this frivolity. We’ve spent months on this empty preening for golden statutes and here you are staring down the things that really matter and you’re spilling your priceless tears over me…” his hands cupped the sides of your head gently as his thumbs swiped at each traitorous tear that stole down your cheek. “Let’s get you home, ok?”

You gripped his wrists and looked up to him, brow furrowing.

“But I’m ruining your night…” You protested weakly as he shook his head.

“You’re reminding me of what really matters, come on.” He slid his arm around your shoulders protectively, guiding you back through the crowd of attendees.

You kept your head low, certain your makeup must be ruined, arranging for Ari to meet you at the side door. Austin helped you into the car and pulled out his own phone once you were settled.

“You find a way home, I’ll call Scott.”

You looked to him startled.

“Like…right now? I meant…I meant once you were on your vacation or something…”

“Now, Betty. You’re going home, home. Now.” He nodded firmly and dialed Scott before you could utter another word in protest.

Swallowing tightly, you pulled out your phone to make travel arrangements to get home as soon as possible. He went upstairs to change when you arrived back at his house, and you went into his office to pack but he found you fifteen minutes later, still standing in the doorway dressed in your gown, staring at your empty suitcase open on the bed.

“C’mere…” He said gently and pulled you close into the soft hoodie he now wore. “Facing the mortality of our parents is a truly foundation-shaking experience.” He murmured into your hair, and you nodded speechlessly.

He helped you fill your suitcase with some clothes and useful things, sending you to the washroom to change into something more practical for travel. You wiped the makeup from your face and blew your nose a few times before collecting your things.

“Are you sure about this, Austin? I could always delay…”

He cut you off with a shake of his head, gently pressing his lips to your cheek.

“I’ll be fine, you go take care of your family.”

In your fragile state, you had been easily seduced by his words of comfort. Fooled into believing that, despite all evidence to the contrary, he would be perfectly fine in your absence. That there wasn’t a psychologically unstable woman out there hellbent on killing him for the spiritual transgressions she so strongly believed he had committed.

It had been the right thing, for you personally, to go home. It felt good to be in the embrace of family, to gather with the people you loved and support one another after such a scare. It had admittedly been far too long since you had been home, regardless, and you made a vow to not let it be so long in the future. On Wednesday, Maddie and her mother came by with a casserole and you took is to the kitchen to allow them a chance to visit with your parents – to let them relax in the living room.

The shot of the coastal highway on the TV screen in the corner of the kitchen caught your eye as you began to assemble a salad to balance the richness of the casserole. It screamed for your attention, despite its anonymous, sundrenched beauty. Grasping the salad bowl tightly, you reached out to turn up the volume, your eyes skating over the variety of emergency vehicles assembled at the scene…the automotive debris scattered across the asphalt. That’s when his name splashed across the screen.

Austin Butler in Critical Condition

“The award-winning actor was transported by rescue helicopter to Cedars-Sinai Medical Centre where he is listed in critical condition. His driver was taken by ambulance to a nearby hospital in stable condition. The female driver of the vehicle suspected of running him off the road was pronounced dead at the scene. The FBI is now confirming that she was their primary suspect in a string a threatening letters sent to the actor…”

You had not even noticed the heirloom crystal bowl slide from your fingers and shatter against the kitchen tile until Maddie called your name sharply from the doorway. You glanced down through rapidly blurring eyes and swore thickly, crouching down to quickly pick up the scattered shards. Shock had stolen all sensation from your fingertips, the countless nicks on your skin marked only by red blossoms of blood.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Maddie shouted and yanked you back at which point you collapsed against her sobbing. You had failed him. You had left for selfish personal reasons and now he was clinging to life alone in a hospital room.

Several Band-Aids and a cup of tea later, you were once again packing your suitcase. The gut-wrenching reaction to his accident had equalled that you’d felt for your own mother. And was hanging around like a bad penny, filling you to the brim with nervous energy. There was no possible way you could deny what Austin meant to you any longer. You would only be lying to yourself. To him. And he deserved better than that.

“You’re gonna make it to LA ok?” Maddie asked quietly as she zipped up your suitcase and you sighed heavily.

“I’ll do my best, Mads…thank you…” You hugged her tightly before saying proper farewells to your parents and heading out.

It was well past visiting hours when you arrived at the hospital, but you’d called Scott on the way and he was there waiting to lead you up to Austin’s hospital room.

“He’s been upgraded to stable condition, you’ll be relieved to know.” He informed you as the doors to the elevator closed.

“Scott I’m so sorry I…” You looked to him as you rose floor by floor.

He looked to you startled.

“What on earth…sorry you weren’t there to get hurt? There’s nothing you could have done to prevent this. Nothing you could have done in that car but increase the list of injured or worse. Thank hell you weren’t there…How’s your mom?” He asked quickly and you smiled just the hint of a smile.

“So much better…I…it was good to see her.”

“Good.” He nodded firmly and led you to the room where an armed police officer watched the door. He introduced you to the man as Austin’s bodyguard, all pretense now dropped in light of the story having gone public since the accident, and quietly led you into the room where Austin lay. “I’ll leave you to it…” He whispered and nodded before stepping out.

Because the unit was a higher level of care, the door remained open to the nursing station to allow them to keep an eye on him, but he otherwise had the spacious room to himself. The bed and monitoring equipment only served to make him look small. You pressed your fingers to your lips, trying to smother your shaking breaths as they seemed to thunder in the otherwise quiet room. The only other sound was the beeping of his heart rate monitor – reassuringly steady.

Your eyes scanned across his face and down his body, taking stock of marks that would bruise and numerous abrasions. The image of him beneath the stark white, antiseptic blankets began to blur and you sealed your hand over your mouth as you tried to focus on the expanse of the city lights out the window beside him, tried to regain your composure, when you heard him rasp your name.

You moved closer to the head of the bed, leaning in to see his eyes made glassy from pain medication trying to focus on your face.

“Austin, I’m here…” He reached out with his left hand and you took it carefully, trying to wipe your tears away quickly with your other.

“Oh Betty, there you go wastin’ those tears again…” He murmured and you couldn’t help but laugh.

He chuckled briefly before wincing with a groan and you frowned deeply.

“Jus’ some broken ribs, I’ll be all right…”

“Shit…I shoulda been there Austin…I’m so sorry…” You whispered, fresh tears spilling from your eyes.

He reached with his free hand, grunting in pain as he wiped at your face, only making your lip wobble, sobs building in your throat.

“I have to resign.” You choked out suddenly and his eyes flashed to your face.

“What jus’ because you weren’t here?!” He asked incredulously, words slightly slurred.

Shaking your head, you took a deep, fortifying breath.

“I’ve gone and done something I shouldn’t.” You whispered.

His brow furrowed as he looked at you quizzically.

“I’ve fallen in love with the client.” You confessed, holding your breath as you were only brave enough to risk glances at his face before looking back for your entwined hands.

“Oh, thank god” he exhaled after what felt like an eternity and released your hand, cupping the back of your neck to pull you close.

You braced your hands on other side of the hospital bed, not wanting to jostle him, to cause him any pain, as you brushed your lips against his gently.

“You’d better give me a better kiss than that…” He teased, mouth moving against yours as he held you stubbornly close.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Austin…” You protested, feeling the rough edges of the abraded side of lips against your own.

“I’ve been dyin’ to kiss ya since you threw Marwan into the floor in Palm Springs…please….” He whispered.

“How much medication have you had…” You hissed, half playful, half mortified, still hovering above his lips.

He whined your name, completely washing away the last of your resolve and you slotted your mouth against his firmly, shifting your weight onto one hand to slide the other into his hair on the uninjured side of his face. He hummed against your lips eagerly, fingers curling into the skin at the base of your neck as his lips moved against yours needily. You sighed deeply, warmth spreading through your entire body, until a politely rapping on the door frame had you quickly pulling back from his lips.

“So sorry to interrupt…” The nurse could barely contain her grin as she came in to check Austin over, noting his vitals in his electronic chart, before leaving you two alone.

“Guess I don’t get a vacation…” He pouted playfully and you shook your head, pulling up a chair to settle at the head of his bed.

“One day at a time, Austin…Let’s get you home first, ok? And for that to happen, you need to sleep…” You smoothed his brow with your thumb, fingertips stroking his curls.

“Just wanted to go to the beach while the groomers got Biscuit ready for our trip…the car came outta nowhere…They said Ari is ok, he’s really ok, right?” He rambled sleepily.

“Yes, at a hospital in Santa Barbara, stable just like you.” You reassured him gently.

“You’ll be here when I wake up…? You’ll stay?” He whispered with open fragility.

“Yes, I’ll be right here Austin…rest…”

“Love you, too…” He breathed.

You smiled softly as he closed his eyes, quickly falling asleep, clinging to your other hand.

Sleeping in a chair with your hand trapped in his grip was hardly comfortable, nor were the frequent interruptions by the nurses to check his vitals and administer frequent cognitive tests – you surmised the reason was a concussion he had neglected to share with you, restful. But there was honestly no other place in the entire world you would have rather been. Daylight brought the arrival of his father and you moved to step out, but Austin insisted you stay.

He held his hand out to you once he’d settled back into the bed following a nurse assisted bathroom trip. You shyly avoided the knowing smile of his father, sliding your fingers through his. The attending physician arrived not long after and delivered the full litany of Austin’s injuries. You clung to his hand silently as his father asked the follow-up questions, doing your utmost to fight back the urge to let the guilt overwhelm you once more.

“We anticipate that Mr. Butler will be able to head home tomorrow but he will absolutely require assistance in his home, including supportive devices, and physiotherapy as he recovers.”

You heard Austin’s father suck the air between his teeth, knowing he had a life and responsibilities of his own back in Arizona while you? Well, you were recently unemployed and more than willing to take the time off to care for the man you loved.

“I’ll be happy to take care of everything.” You swallowed and looked to Austin. “If you’re ok with that?”

He looked to you, face softening.

“I am more than ok with that, you beautiful woman…” He sighed lovingly and lifted your hand to kiss the back of it gently.

“Wonderful, I’ll send in Occupational Therapy to help you prepare for his homecoming.” The physician departed just as Kate appeared, looking fresh off the plane from somewhere tropical. She even smelled of coconut suntan lotion.

Though he was still quite medicated, Kate worked with Austin to determine the loose parameters of a press release before she set up in the corner of the room, calling her team to hammer it out. Austin’s father pulled you into a grateful hug before making a trip to cafeteria for coffee and food for the three of you and you remained at Austin’s side as he still refused to release your hand.

Once everyone was fed, the nurses insisted Austin needed his rest. Kate took Austin’s father home while you met with OT in a nearby conference room, arranging for the necessary items to be delivered. You gave Trey a call to make sure he could let the deliveries in, before creeping back into the room to doze some more in the chair. As visiting hours came to a close, you left a pouting Austin for the night, placating him with the knowledge that you were going to his house to set up for him to come home in the morning.

You were struck by the scent of flowers when you stepped into the house, every surface on the main floor covered in floral arrangements from friends, family, colleagues, and acquaintances. The second thing you noticed was a very enthusiastic Biscuit who was surely very confused and lonely but looked very good from her well-timed trip to the groomer’s.

Austin’s father already had a head start when you arrived, setting up the shower chair and the supportive pillows on the bed. The last thing that had to be done was taking the mattress from the murphy bed in the office to lay on the floor of Austin’s bedroom so that you could be close by to assist him in moving around. You made up the beds with fresh sheets before passing out for the night with Biscuit in your arms, alarm set for six the next morning.

You showered and ate the breakfast that Austin’s father generously prepared for the two of you before you got the discharge call from the nurse. The pair of you headed over in Austin’s car to pick him up, greeted by a beaming, lanky man in a wheelchair whose mood was utter elation at being released. In a group effort, the three of you got him to his feet and into the front seat of the car, buckling him in and closing the door before taking him home.

The next few weeks were entirely devoted to getting Austin well. His father was able to stay for a few days, cooking all the meals and filling the freezer with food. At first, Austin mainly rested, but you insisted he spend some time on the main floor and outside, keeping him moving to avoid any negative complications. His physiotherapy appointments began after a few days and they carefully taped up his ribs which went a long way to improving his comfort level. His bruises slowly transitioned through the rainbow as they healed, and his abrasions smoothed out. The many kisses he insisted upon helped you to confirm this.

Scott arranged for the FBI to present their findings on the case to Austin at home, and the entire team breathed a sigh of relief when it was confirmed that the deceased driver was indeed the woman responsible for the threats and letters. With the case now closed, the contract with Lane Protective Services was ended and you found yourself alone in the house with Austin. His sister, Ashley, made a weekend visit, but on the whole his home was one of peace and solitude. One in which your rather young relationship blossomed.

As his strength increased, you began to take him on short walks with Biscuit, choosing to still carry your firearm. It would take some time, it seemed, for you to shake that habit. On a particularly warm day at the beginning of April, at Austin’s request, you settled out on the pool deck in bathing suits to soak up some sun. You found yourself smiling as you looked over his torso.

“You can barely see your bruises.” You remarked softly, fingers brushing along his side gently, well aware that he still had healing ribs beneath.

“Must be thanks to you, sweet Betty, taking such good care of me…” He grinned, hand grasping your wrist to lift your fingertips to kiss each one.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips before pulling your lower lip to sink your teeth into it as he pressed his mouth to your palm.

“If my body wasn’t still broken…” He groaned against your skin.

“S…s..sorry.” You apologized quickly, accidentally licking your lips again.

He growled a little and cupped to back of your head, pulling you down for a hungry kiss. His lips had barely pressed against yours before his tongue was licking into your mouth, seeking yours eagerly. Sinking onto your knees on the pool deck, you braced yourself on the arm of the lounger, trying desperately to keep your body weight off of him as he seemed to be sucking the strength from your body, turning your bones into molten metal.

He pulled back with a grunt, gasping for breath as he wasn’t able to hold deep breaths just yet, but immediately moved to trail his lips down your neck, punctuating his kisses with gentle nips of his teeth that had you trembling above him.

“Austin…” You panted. “You gotta be careful…” Your warning was choked off into a moan as he sealed his mouth over your pulse point and began to suck at your skin making your control waiver.

You pushed yourself back from him, chest heaving, terrified as you’d almost crashed into him.

“Come back…” He pouted huskily, licking his lips.

“Austin…fuck I almost fell on you this isn’t safe…” You rasped, voice obviously affected.

You watched as he pulled and chewed at his lips for a moment before carefully pushing himself to sitting and then to standing.

“Come on…” He held out his hand and you took it carefully, following after him suspiciously, but also unable to deny the heat of desire pulsing through your veins.

He made a brief detour to the kitchen, setting up Biscuit with a puzzle toy before taking you upstairs, closing the bedroom door behind you.

“Lay on the bed beside me? Then you can’t fall?”

“What if I move too much?”

“I’ll tell you if it hurts, sweet Betty, I just need to touch you so badly…” He whispered heatedly as he cupped your cheeks, stealing the breath from your lungs, before leaning in to press his lips to yours in a scorching kiss that easily erased any and all reason from your mind.

He carefully walked you over to the bed, sliding up onto the pile of pillows, looking back to you expectantly once he was settled. You gingerly crawled onto the bed next to him, laying on your side as you shifted closer until you were within his reach. He pulled you close, mouth latching onto your neck once more, pulling another ragged moan from your throat as one hand came to knead at your hip and butt cheek.

Moving slowly, you slid your leg over his, giving him ample time to protest in pain before your thigh pressed against the growing bulge between his thighs. When no outcry of pain reached our ears, only a shuddering sigh against your damp skin that sent goosebumps racing down your neck, you applied subtle pressure and friction, pleased when his lips crashed into yours once more. Burying one hand into his golden curls, you allowed the other to skim down the muscles of his chest and abdomen, tracing the hard planes beneath his smooth, soft skin.

You felt his hand shift to cup between your legs, your hips bucking into his touch involuntarily as he stroked at your folds through the thin fabric of your swimsuit with his long, elegant fingers, confirming your long-suspected hypothesis that he was indeed very good with his hands. You tore your lips from his to cry out eagerly as his skilled digits pushed aside the inconvenient fabric to touch your bare skin, immediately seeking your sensitive bundle of nerves. His head shifted lower to kiss and nip at your cleavage before huffing against your chest in frustration.

“Can you take off your suit for me?” He pleaded hoarsely, looking up to you with blown pupils, only a tiny ring of blue iris now surrounding them.

Licking your lips you nodded, carefully disentangling your limbs from his to shift back, sliding from the bed to work the suit from your body. You could feel the heat of his gaze as he watched you expose your body, the moisture evaporating from your mouth, making it impossible to swallow as you climbed back onto the bed with him.

“You are unspeakably gorgeous…” He breathed, reaching out to pull you close to him, lavishing kisses along every inch of exposed skin he could now access as his fingers resumed their torment of your clit, the pad of his thumb circling and pressing at your entrance.

“Ahn! Austin!” You whimpered, bending the knee of your top leg and planting your foot between his calves to give him more room to work, admittedly greedy for his touch.

“Sweet girl you’re positively drenched…” He breathed against your breast before sealing his lips around your nipple, sinking a finger into the heat of your cunt.

You wailed and arched against him at the dual assault, fingers tugging at his hair before holding him to your breast needily. Rocking the heel of his hand against your clit, he began to rhythmically work his finger in and out of your heat before adding a second, growling hungrily against your skin at the eager gush of arousal your body rewarded him with. He withdrew his hand from between your legs, making you whimper at the loss, eyes flashing open only to be treated to the sight of him devouring every drop of your nectar from his hand.

“Oh, please I need to taste you…” He pleaded, hooded eyes burning into yours. “Can you get above me?”

You did not need a second invitation. With legs like jelly, it was more challenging than first anticipated, but with the assistance of the frame around the top of the bed you were able to kneel on the pillows on either side of his head before sinking down onto his eagerly waiting mouth. He barely gave you a moment to breathe before his wicked tongue was working through your folds, his lips slurping up your arousal, filling the room with an obscene mixture of noise as you moaned helplessly. He suckled at your clit before burying the pointed length of his tongue deep into your cunt, hooking his good arm over your hip to pull you down and encourage you to grind your bundle of nerves against his nose as he rocked his head from side to side. You pressed your face into your bicep as your thighs began to shake, eyes clenching shut as you could feel yourself just on the precipice.

One hand moved to cup your breast, massaging and pinching at your nipple as you gave in and rocked dock against Austin’s face, earning a deep moan from the man below you. The vibrations ricocheted through your body and sent you surging forward, tumbling into your release with a harsh cry of his name. Slumping forward against the wall, wave after wave of shuddering pleasure flowed through your body as you felt him avidly lap up all your body had to offer until you had to pull back, climb off him, as it was just too much – you were too sensitive.

Settling onto the mattress beside him, you leaned in to kiss Austin warmly, giggling a little at his face was soaked. He just grinned at you proudly. Rolling over, you found some tissues on the nightstand and gently wiped at his cheeks and chin before tossing them into the bin on the floor beside him, the prominent outline of his hard cock beneath his swim trunks catching your eye.

“Would you like some assistance with this?” You asked, sitting at his hip and running your fingers along the waistband of his suit.

His teeth sunk into the plush pink of his lower lip as he nodded, and you worked together to slide the bathing suit off his hips and down his legs. It was not the first time you had seen him naked – you had been helping him shower, towel off, and change since his return from the hospital, but this was different. And not just because his sizable length lay hard and angry against his abdomen. The intention set the tone, this was about pleasure, and you allowed yourself to enjoy the full expanse of his sun-kissed, freckled skin.

“Unspeakably gorgeous, was it?” You breathed and reached up to cup the tip of his length, collecting the precum that pooled there before wrapping your fingers around him, stroking his cock and delighting in the way it made the muscles of his abdomen flutter.

“Oh fuck…” He hissed, writhing against the duvet.

Licking your lips, you slithered down onto your stomach, planting an elbow between his legs and laying your chest across his uninjured hip as you licked a broad stripe from base to tip, grinning as his hips jerked towards your mouth. His whimper reminded you to be merciful and you gently began to sink your mouth down onto him, taking as much of his cock as this angle would allow, leaving your lips parted to allow your saliva to flow freely over his rest of his length and further down between his thighs.

He moaned your name as you wrapped your hand around the base of him before you began to work up and down, hollowing your cheeks and tracing the prominent vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue. He whimpered and rambled, fingers gripping the back of your head. You hummed in sympathy, and he writhed beneath you, length twitching against your tongue.

“Please! Oh, please get back up here I wanna kiss you when I cum, wanna pretend I’m inside you…” He pleaded and you pulled back, releasing his cock from your mouth with a pop, before laying on your side.

His lips crashed against yours as you slid your leg over his, hand resuming the rhythm of your mouth. His hand gripped your ass and his hips rocked in time with the strokes of your fist. You found yourself grinding your still-damp core against his thigh, earning a ragged groan against your lips.

“Gonna…gonna…” He panted and you opened your eyes to take in as much of his face as he could, his breath panting into your open mouth before he gave a sharp cry and spilled his climax against his stomach as you continued to gently stroke his length to prolong his pleasure.

As the tension left his body, allowing him to sink into the mattress, you kissed the corner of his mouth softly and retrieved a warm washcloth to clean him up. You helped him into his pajamas, frowning as he gave tiny hisses of pain, but the lopsided grin never left his lips.

A pathetic awooo from the hallway alerted you to the fact that Biscuit was well finished with her puzzle toy and now aware of her locked-out status. You quickly slid on your own pajamas before scooping her up from the doorway to settle her at Austin’s good hip to allow the pair to settle in for an afternoon nap.

He only continued to get stronger as his bones and ligaments healed, yourself and Biscuit joining him in bed nightly by the end of April. And while creative solutions were keeping the pair of you satisfied enough, when Austin’s physician finally cleared him for more strenuous activity, both of you admittedly had the same thought.

The evening began innocently enough, with a nice dinner the two of you made together, with a delicious wine now that Austin was no longer on pain medication. You talked for hours, still in the beginning stages of your relationship where there was more to discover about one another, before cleaning up the kitchen. Yet it ended with you on your back, legs hanging off the side of the mattress, propped up on your elbows as you salaciously watched him indulgently stroke his cock a few times before carefully rolling the condom down his length.

Chest heaving, cunt throbbing from the orgasm he had just wrung from you and the promise of him inside you at last, you chewed your lip impatiently.

“Don’t you go damaging those plush pretty lips, sweet Betty, I like kissing them far too much.” He leaned down carefully to prove his point, the wet muscle of his tongue twining with yours until you were both humming with need.

He straightened, guiding your hips to the very edge of the bed before sliding his length through the slick of your folds, gathering as much as possible while teasing your clit before shifting to slowly begin sinking into your wet heat. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you dropped back onto the mattress, keening softly as you gripped his wrists while he stretched and filled you impossibly full.

“Oh my…fuck you feel so good…” He hissed above you, his fingers curling into the flesh of your hips.

“Oh yes…” You panted in return, rocking your hips against his experimentally, a chorus of moans falling from both of your lips.

It was all the motivation he needed to pull his hips back before immediately sinking back into your demanding warmth. And while you wished he were closer, wished you could be wrapped up in his arms, it was amazing to finally feel so connected to him, completed by him.

“Austin!” You exclaimed, too overwhelmed to put the emotions swirling in your chest into more words beyond his name.

“I know….I know…” He panted between thrusts. “I love…you too…” He moaned your name raggedly and rocked harder, thrust faster, pushing you ever closer to release.

“Love…you…” You whimpered in return, feeling your walls starting to clamp down around him.

“Oh, fuck yes…” He quickly reached for your clit, circling it in a way that he knew after weeks of practice would make you cum, and growled happily as you did just that, scratching at his forearms a little as you clenched around his length through wave after wave of climax. “Yes!” He barked out triumphantly before thrusting erratically once, twice more, joining you in release.

You could feel him sway on his feet, recognizing that though the position had kept pressure and impact from his body it had demanded tremendous physical effort of him. You quickly shifted back to slide his length from you before guiding him to sit on the bed. Peppering his face with kisses, you rid him of the condom and then helped him into his pajamas, noticing the winces.

“Would you like heat or cold for that?” You frowned, guiding him to lay down.

“Heat please…” He sighed a little. “So worth it though…” he smirked, and you rolled your eyes playfully before kissing him gently.

“Well, it’s a good thing I left the mattress on the floor. Biscuit and I will let you have the bed tonight.” You teased before getting him some over-the-counter pain killers and a heating pad.

Tucking away the stairs that helped Biscuit access the bed, you and the dog curled up on the mattress on the floor beside him, kissing the tips of his fingers as he dropped his hand down while wishing you a good night before his slow, steady breaths filled the room.

Biscuit’s low growl startled you awake some hours later and you lay perfectly still, trying to locate the source of her upset. The less-than-subtle sound of footsteps thundering up the stairs not seconds later provided you with a very clear answer and had you surging to your feet. Your firearm was locked in a small safe on the other side of the bed and based on the speed of the approaching intruder in the hallway, you did not have time. You shook Austin awake as you launched yourself over the foot of the bed just before the door flew open, the metal of a gun barrel flashing in the glow of the streetlights from the hallway.

You surged up, under the intruder’s arm to push the muzzle upwards as he pulled the trigger, sending the bullet into the ceiling in a shower of drywall and paint chips. Biscuit was barking at a ferocious pitch you had never before heard as you struggled with the shadowy figure’s bulk, trying to wrestle the gun free. Another shot was directed into the hardwood floor before you were able to claw the gun from his hand. His elbow snapped back, slamming into your nose with a sickening crunch. A gush of warmth down your face and the coppery tang of blood filled your mouth – an oddly nostalgic sensation that took you right back to a Judo match.

The intruder let out a sudden wail and jerked back, and you felt something fluffy dart past your legs. Biscuit had scored one for the home team. The gun now fully in your grasp, you threw it into the ensuite bathroom before taking down the freshly bitten man with a Judo throw while he was distracted by the pain. You knelt in the middle of his back, pinning his arms behind him.

“Austin, I need something to tie him!” You cried out, listening to his footfalls as he made his way from the ensuite, where he must have been hiding, to the nightstand, and then over to the foot of the bed where you were.

He procured a pair of silver handcuffs and you looked to him in slight disbelief, before gesturing with your head for him to secure the assailant’s hands.

“I’m going to put him in the chair, don’t want to compromise his airway any longer….he’s probably going to say terrible things…”

“I’m ready, Betty.” Austin said through gritted teeth and you hauled the incapacitated man to his feet before forcing him down onto the chair of the built-in makeup stand that Austin’s former girlfriend had designed. “Turn on the lights?”

Everyone blinked rapidly to adjust to the sudden brightness, and you swore under your breath as you recognized the dog-walking, brick-throwing, psychopath-loving man who was supposed to be in prison in Santa Barbara.

“Gabriel.” You muttered in shock.

“You fucking godless whore bitch!” He spit at you and you didn’t bother moving, not wanting to loosen your grip on him.

You had Austin call the police on speaker phone while you strapped the man to the chair with a series of belts, as he continued to spew hate and vitriol at both you and Austin.

“Betty you’re bleeding…” Austin whispered at one point, trying to wipe at your face.

“Later…” You whispered back, not wanting to take an eye off the man.

“The love of my life is dead because of the two of you! She was a righteous woman! How is she dead and the two of you are alive! You do not deserve to walk this earth!”

The police, thankfully, showed up rather quickly and took the man back into custody. They collected the man’s firearm from the ensuite, as well the bullets from the floor and ceiling, before taking your statements and assuring you that these charges would keep the man locked up for a much longer time than throwing bricks.

You allowed Austin to pull you into the bathroom once they’d left, sitting on the counter patiently as he gently cleaned the blood from your face before testing your nose.

“I don’t think it’s broken…”

You shook your head carefully.

“Just a solid whack. I’ll have a nice pair of black eyes tomorrow, most likely.”

He frowned deeply and kissed your forehead.

“Oh, Betty I’m so sorry…”

“I’m not. That bastard deserved worse than Biscuit gave him…We should get her some extra treats.” You smiled weakly as he snorted into your hair.

“I’m going to get the ice and then the three of us are booking that damn vacation to an island far away. Deal?”

You nodded your acquiescence and it was less that thirty-six hours from the time you confirmed the booking, snuggled up against him with an ice pack pressed against your face, to the time you were sitting on a private island in the Bahamas. Biscuit was darting back and forth between you on the sand, chasing a tiny crab, making the pair of you laugh.

“Terrifying little guard dog…” Austin smirked and shifted to sit next to you, sliding an arm around your waist.

“Invaluable asset, she is.” You nodded with a grin; your black eyes hidden beneath a pair of sunglasses.

“Betty spaghetti, I love you, you know that?” He kissed your temple, making you smile softly.

“Yes, I do, Mr. Butler.” You grinned. “Love you, too Austin.” You pulled him in for a kiss.

“I’ve been meaning to ask though…” You smirked when he eventually pulled back to allow you both a chance to catch your breath and he raised a curious eyebrow. “…about those handcuffs in your nightstand…”

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Tag List: @littlewhiterose, @austinsvlrslut, @emrysdreams, @slowsweetlove, @xstrengthxinxtragedyx, @shelbygeek, @kingdomforapony, @artlover8992, @eliseinmemphis, @haydensith, @breadsquash, @chimchimjiminie16, @qxiva, @lilsiz, @18lkpeters

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #blurredcolour

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cascader · 2 years ago

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smile! a jilytober "drabble"

for the @jilytoberfest drabble prompt "smile!" except it's 1.3k words. read on AO3 or below!

“Smile!”

“Oh!” exclaims Lily, her voice cracking a smidge. She’s blinking rapidly, as he is, in a futile attempt to recover from the bright flash. “I wasn’t ready…”

“Yeah, mate, er, maybe a redo?” James asks. He’s abruptly grateful for his skin not betraying his fluster. “Prefer my right side and all. You know how it is…”

“Sorry, but I can’t,” and to his credit, little Michael Fields does look apologetic as he waves away the last of the orange smoke that accompanied the camera’s flash.

“You haven’t even added the developing solution,” Lily points out.

“I’m under strict orders from Editor Pettigrew—”

“He’s got you calling him Editor Pettigrew now? Merlin, when I suggested he take up a hobby…”

“—that we take only one photo per feature,” Michael barrels on. “He said something about one of his mates scaring a first-year into a photoshoot?”

James’s scowl deepens. “Sirius has got to ruin everything for the rest of us, doesn’t he?”

Lily rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Don’t act like you don’t love him for it.”

Michael shakily siphons developing solution out of a vial with his wand, coating with it the two copies of the photo he’d taken.

“He did give us permission to give the subjects an original copy,” Michael says, clumsily flicking the solution back into its bottle. Bright blue splotches of it stain the ground at his feet and the sleeves of his robes.

Michael’s eyes dart down to the two copies of the photo, and his eyebrows raise almost imperceptibly before he schools his expression back to its — presumably Editor-Pettigrew-trained — careful neutrality.

“I actually think it’s perfect,” he says. “It’ll go nicely with the article, that is.”

He clears his throat and stows his copy in his bag.

“Ah, yes. The mysterious article that Editor Pettigrew won’t tell us the angle for,” Lily says.

“What d’you mean, angle?” James questions. He slides his hands into his pockets. “I thought it was about new Head initiatives? All his questions were about what it’s like working with you.”

Lily frowns. “Pete asked me barely anything about that. He did ask me for my favorite sandwich and to rank your relative strengths in every Hogwarts course we’ve ever shared, though.”

“You’ll see soon enough,” Michael says cryptically. “I think it’s a great one.”

James looks like he’s about to push it, but Lily rests a hand gently on his elbow, and he stills.

Michael seems to hesitate with the remaining copy of the photo, eyes flicking from James to Lily and back to James again.

He squares his shoulders and hands the photo quite pointedly to Lily. She holds the still-drying image gingerly between two fingers, eyebrows furrowed.

“Thanks for your time,” he says, already scurrying off. “The Hogwarts Post appreciates it!”

“They follow Pete like a cult, I swear,” scoffs James, who’s turned to watch Michael’s hasty retreat down the corridor. “Don’t you think, Lily?”

“Lily?” he prompts again, turning back to look at her. She’s faced away from him now, staring intently at the photo in her hand.

He takes a cautious step forward, and then another, until he’s hovering at her back, well into her space. He can see easily over her shoulder — over her head, even — to the photo in question.

Its colors haven’t yet deepened into full force, but the image is still clear. It’s them, in the moment before Michael had yelled “smile!” and set the camera’s flash off.

Michael had asked them to think of a pose for a joint photo, and James had suggested a piggyback ride, and Lily had suggested that specifically she give him one, since she was so used to helping him in their Head duties all term. Lily had laughed at her own teasing, had turned to him to watch his reaction, and he’d laughed too. And he’d smiled, just looking at her as she looked back.

Then: “Smile!”

Michael had done a good job. Peter would be proud.

In the photo, they’re standing quite close. Close enough that he’s almost embarrassed that someone else bore witness to the moment, though James hadn’t realized the full extent of their proximity at the time. Lily’s fingertips hover mere centimeters away from him. James startles as, after several seconds of no movement in the image, he’s reminded it’s a magic, not muggle, photo. As he watches, her fingers flex closer to his, like they can’t help it, pausing a hair away. He hadn’t known that. Hadn’t seen it at the time.

They’re close enough in the image that her eyes flicker back and forth between his. She’s smiling brighter than almost anything he’s ever seen. She looks happy. She looks… adoring.

He has to force himself to look at his own image, and he’s less shell-shocked by what he sees there. He looks in love. Sirius always said he was obvious.

The picture looks… intimate.

Still standing behind her now, still silent, James reaches with his left hand for hers. When he’s centimeters away, in an echo of her movements just minutes before, he pauses. And then — he doesn’t even mean to — his fingers flex for hers, pulled forward by years in the making.

Lily shudders. He can feel it, see it, hear it.

Her hand is shaking, still holding the image, as she drops it towards his.

When their fingers touch, James’s eyes close. He can’t help it. Her body is warm. She’s standing still, even as her hand still trembles. He rests his forehead on the top of her head. She tilts back into him. Her hair smells like coconut. When he was younger, he’d always imagined it smelled like strawberries.

“Oh,” Lily says, so softly it sounds like a breath.

“Oh,” James echoes. He wraps his other arm around her front. She drops her bag onto the floor and grips his right hand in hers.

James takes a deep breath in.

______

“Hot off the presses!” Peter shouts, entering the room with a swagger that only this school newspaper, of all things, gives him. “Get your Hogwarts Post here!”

Folded awkwardly into an armchair, Sirius grumbles, “He couldn’t have come up with a cleverer name than that, really? And it’s still given him this much of an ego?”

“Be nice,” Lily chides absentmindedly, thumbing through her Charms textbook.

Sirius rolls his eyes.

“Here you go, you lot!” Peter exclaims, chucking a copy at Sirius and dropping one into Lily’s lap with rather more grace.

“None for me?” James asks mildly.

“We’re low on copies. Printing problems. You can share,” Peter says, before whisking off to a group of third-years.

Now James rolls his eyes, and maybe he’s about to agree with Sirius on how Peter’s newfound power has made him mildly intolerable, but Lily interrupts him with a gentle elbow to his side.

“Look,” she says softly. “It’s us.”

Indeed, when James glances down at the newspaper, the first thing that catches his eye is the photo in the bottom corner of the front page. It’s the one from all those months ago — the one they’d thought was bad, and then thought was revelatory. He’d almost forgotten about the promised bizarre article.

But it’s not bizarre at all, James thinks. Partners in Life, Love, and Leading: Potter and Evans Embody School Strength in Times of Trouble.

“Guess he took that tip you gave him on alliterative headlines to heart, Evans,” James mutters, scanning down the rest of the article.

Lily laughs. Her fingers trace down the column of the article — their article.

“Looks like everyone else knew a lot more about our hearts than we did,” she says.

James presses a smile into her shoulder, snuggling into her side. “We needed some help to get here,” he admits. “But I think we’ve got the hang of it now.”

#jily #jily fic #jilytober #jilytoberfest #jilytober drabble #lily evans potter #james potter #hana writes #jilytober fic

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boldlyvoid · 4 years ago

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Million Dollar Man | chapter two

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)

word count: 3.4K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est

Chapter Two | Masterlist

She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.

Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.

Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.

She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.

All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.

She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.

But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.

He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”

He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”

She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”

He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.

She doesn’t accept it just yet.

It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.

“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”

He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.

Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”

“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”

Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”

She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”

Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.

It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.

“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.

“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”

“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.

She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”

“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.

“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”

“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”

“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”

“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”

“Yes please,” she smiles.

“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”

“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.

—

They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.

Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.

For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.

He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.

He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.

They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.

“How many gifts is this now?”

“We’re at 5 out of 24.”

She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”

“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.

“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.

The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.

“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”

“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.

“He lets her choose,” he whispers.

“He rescues her,” she corrects him.

“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.

It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”

“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.

“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”

“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.

“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”

She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”

“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”

She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”

“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”

“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.

“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”

She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”

He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”

“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.

As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”

He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…

“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.

“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”

With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.

“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”

“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”

He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”

She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”

He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”

He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.

She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.

“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”

He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”

“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”

Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.

She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.

“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.

“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”

“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.

“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”

“Daddy’s girl.”

He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.

She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.

He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”

“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.

“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”

For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.

“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.

She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”

“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.

“Only if you let me wash the front too?”

She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.

Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.

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1kook · 4 years ago

Text

BORN SINNER III

→ MASTERLIST

summary; Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you. warnings; virgin jungkook, timid jungkook, church boy jk, a LOT of religious themes/discussion, catholic guilt, fear of sinning, mentions of masturbation, heavy doubts, a little paranoia/fear of being outcasted, jk has a crush, confessions, making out, boob lover jk has his boobs touched, groping/petting, light praise, very brief/light choking, jk is horny like 75% of the time, positive character development <3 rating; m (18+) wc; 9.5k

banner; as always, by @jamaisjoons !! ty ty ty!! <3333

notes; i have to apologize for delaying this update for so long. truth is, it was difficult to write the next part bc i felt like i had trapped myself in pt2-- jk wasn't showing ANY progress & i started to really hate his character. LUCKILY, with the help of my amazing editor n wife @kigurumu *audience cheers* i was able to put him back on the right track towards redemption! (& even more painful angst in the future!) sadly, that means that this part doesn't include any explicit smut, you'll see why. still, I'm very proud of how much i was able to build his character in this part and i hope you enjoy it!!! lemme know what u think <3

in the future, i will try my best to make sure the chapters aren’t so spaced out. again, i am so so sorry about taking so long to update this series

He gets your text the following Tuesday morning.

Now, Jungkook has never been one to be overly invested in his cell phone; he uses it as much as he needs to, just checks his emails, takes some photos, and sends texts when necessary. But you had set up a particularly unique ringtone for yourself the other day, had sweetly asked for his phone as he laid against your chest. His skin had felt warm and the slightest bit sweaty, his body pressed so closely against you that he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. “Did you have fun?” you asked, fingers combing back his hair. He had hummed, eyes fluttering shut to the faint tapping of your fingers across the keyboard. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember the soft beating of your heart beneath his ear, the leg you had hooked around his waist to pull him closer. The memory makes him shiver.

It’s a high-pitched bell sound that alerts him of your messages now, completely unlike the classic default tone he had set for everyone else.

From the other side of his room, Jungkook immediately pauses to look at it, the lit up screen glaring back at him from its idle place on his bedside table. He always leaves it there in the mornings, beside his rosary and the picture of his family, as he gets ready for work.

He knows exactly who it’s from— after all, that’s what you wanted when you stylized your ringtone —which is why his hand trembles in excitement as he unlocks his phone.

[❤️]: picnic tomorrow? 🥰

[❤️]: after my last class of course

Jungkook’s first thought is that this was a date, his first one with you since he had met you. His heartbeat hammers at the thought, at the mere suggestion that the two of you would be able to spend more time together this week outside of your usual weekend… acts. Additionally, if you’re asking him on a date, then surely it means you view Jungkook as a potential suitor, just as he does you? Do you want to maybe date Jungkook? Jungkook certainly wants to date you— in fact, if he starts gathering his courage now, he might be able to properly ask you out tomorrow.

Jungkook’s second thought is of that guilty, gross feeling that’s been gnawing at his insides for three days now, and how it was inevitably going to get worse when he saw you again.

He had lied to you, Jungkook recalls, sinking down against his mattress, shirt half buttoned, as he stares at the screen. He had lied to your face during a critical moment, had felt that seed of doubt in his chest blossom more than ever. And not only had Jungkook lied to you, but he had lied to you about his feelings toward you. How could he ever hope to hold you close, to date you, when he couldn’t even be honest with you?

The memory of your curious gaze presents itself at the forefront of his mind, the soft sound of your laughter ringing in his ears.

You had been so sweet to him despite his blunder, had cupped his face and kissed him on the lips when he dropped you off outside your apartment. “Not today,” you crooned, unbuckling yourself as Jungkook’s eyes trailed over your throat— ignoring your cross —and down your chest. “I have schoolwork to catch up on. But soon, okay?” Another sweet peck had left him trailing after your touch, your finger bopping the tip of his nose playfully. “Call me when you get home.”

And because he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with you, Jungkook had done as you said and called you. He’d called you and then had whimpered against his sheets as you generously talked him through another sinful deed. You had softly sighed his name over the line, told him he was handsome and that you missed him. That you wanted him in your mouth—

And of course, he had felt… something afterwards.

This is where his dilemma begins: Jungkook had felt something afterwards, and he’s not sure if it had been entirely good or bad. The longer Jungkook stays around you, hangs out with you, does things with you— the more he can feel parts inside of himself change. Because after the phone call, Jungkook had felt two distinct emotions within himself, both of which were up for questioning.

First, there was that one feeling he was becoming all too familiar with, the crushing guilt that would consume him following any sexual interaction with you or himself for that matter. Why was he like this? Why did he indulge himself in such heinous pleasures when he knew, knew better than anyone, what committing such acts meant for the future of his soul? He was practically dooming himself the way he was now, but Jungkook just didn’t understand— why did something so bad feel so good?

But alongside that gnawing guilt was this tiny, weirdly pleasant satisfaction, a gratification that superseded the relief felt by an orgasm. It was this oddly serene feeling that settled over Jungkook in the moments following a climax, the soft brush of your hands through his hair, the low lilt of your voice. They made him feel like he was floating on the softest of clouds, kissed and pampered by its wispy tendrils. It made something inside of Jungkook feel different, new. Good.

(In the back of his mind, Jungkook realizes he’s always felt that way. At the height of his pleasure, at the faintest brush of your hands against his. It was a staple of your presence, one that made Jungkook feel like he was walking on air.)

From whatever angle he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense. They were contrasting emotions; while one made him feel godawful, the other one practically made him transcend. The fact they could coincide, exist all at once, had Jungkook’s brain folding in on itself as he tried to figure out why. They kept him up the last few nights, eyes blankly staring up at his ceiling following his evening prayers. Mulling over everything he’s ever learned and been told, always circling it back to your beautiful presence in his life.

He knows sex in itself is not bad— after all, that was how the beautiful process of life came to be —but years upon years of studying his religion, cultivating his faith, had all led him to the same conclusion: premarital sex was wrong. And for the past few weeks, well. That’s all Jungkook had been doing with you.

It seems like every time you meet, you’re dead set on pleasuring him, turning Jungkook into a shivering, teary-eyed mess while you grinned from above. That confused him too— as far as Jungkook knew, the whole point of sex was to chase after your own pleasure, something you admittedly did not do. It was always Jungkook’s pleasure, Jungkook’s enjoyment that you wanted, covering him in languid kisses and long caresses until he was inevitably shooting his hot cum all over your lap and into your hands.

You had told him it was okay, that he should never feel bad for enjoying himself. But, to return back to his original dilemma, he doesn’t quite know if he can trust your word.

You’re a liar, that much Jungkook can look past his rose-tinted glasses to admit. While you may not have lied to him (or at least, Jungkook wants to believe you haven’t), the fact still stands that you are quite willing to deceive others in order to get what you want. He already knows you aren’t the biggest believer of the Church yourself, that you frequently brush off your religious duties in order to fulfill your own desires— the aforementioned sexual cravings probably the biggest one —so, quite frankly, Jungkook is untrusting of the rest of your practices. Were you lying to him, telling him all was well, just for your own benefit? Just because you wanted to drag him along on your lustful adventures? He wasn’t sure, and as much as he wanted to trust you wouldn’t, there’s a shred of doubt that plagues him.

But still.

Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you.

He taps his phone against his chin, brain a frenzied mess.

If Jungkook really wanted to pursue this relationship with you, he needed to be honest with himself and with you. Did it bother him that you were so flippant with the Church, the one he himself feels so devoted to? Yes and no. Jungkook has never been one to impress his beliefs on others, and truthfully, he would not be the slightest bit bothered if you don’t believe in the same things he does. Would there be some awkwardness in your relationship? Certainly, but at least Jungkook would know the real you from the very beginning.

But to him, posing as an avid follower when you really aren’t rubs part of him the wrong way. He’s slightly put off by that aspect of you, and justifiably felt that anyone would feel such a way if someone were to use something they love as mere leverage for their own personal gain. And to make matters worse, now that he’s been made aware, it weighs down heavily on his conscience.

Part of Jungkook, as selfish as it may be, wishes you had never revealed your secrets to him. He may have been left in the dark a total fool, but at the very least he would have been a happy fool. Would he still feel guilt about all the sexual deeds he’s partaken in with you? Sure, but at least he would only have himself to blame. The way things are now, he’s unsure who really needs to be condemned.

Realistically, it is Jungkook’s fault. He knows how you are and even more, he knows you would never proposition him for any such sexual deed if he told you no, if he simply denied you. But he doesn’t tell you no, and that’s the problem: Jungkook really likes you as you are now, questionable behavior be damned. He likes you when you make him cry and when you pinch his cheeks and when you snake your hand down his pants.

He still thinks you’re amazing, gets this fluttery feeling when you look at him with that sparkling gaze of yours. Your laughter makes him smile, even if you’re not laughing at something he said, because the sound is just so comforting, warm and soothing, makes his entire body relax when you chuckle. You have this gentle touch, these delicate hands that carefully comb his hair back for him in the car sometimes, tracing the side of his face softly. Your smile makes him dizzy, makes him want to cup your face in his hands and kiss you breathless. And, of course, he can’t complain about your… other talents when he’s only been on the beneficial receiving end of said talents. That aforementioned satisfaction, as small as it may be and as difficult as it was to admit to, was something Jungkook has begun to look forward to on the occasions that you meet.

But his inability to overlook his own beliefs and your confusing nature brings about a great strife within Jungkook. It’s the reason he hesitates outside the church after dropping you off, his car running as he glares at his steering wheel. Everything in him says to go inside and confess to his sins, relieve himself of this overwhelming sense of guilt and shame to the closest person to his Lord.

But he’s scared.

Scared that, despite the oath of confidentiality, word will get out. His fellow brothers in faith will hear about what he’s done and call him out for his lecherousness. But even worse, he’s scared of what will happen to you. Would Jungkook’s life be over if he were thrown out of his beloved church? As dramatic as he may be, no. But he recognized that there were different standards to which men were held in this society, that an act of desire by him would not ruin his name the same way it would you.

And Jungkook didn’t want that. He wanted to keep you safe. Wanted you to be happy and smiling, regardless of how conflicted it made him, because he likes you. He likes you so much, despite the fact he has yet to uncover the true extent of your character.

But the cloud of mystery is partially what intrigues him, has him pondering over your very existence instead of getting ready for work as he is now. He’s terribly enamored, thinks about you and prays for you every night. So maybe Jungkook is still the fool, because he still daydreams about you when he knows he shouldn’t.

His phone buzzes in his hand—

[❤️]: i miss you bunny ☹️

—and his decision is made.

Tuesday passes by in a blur and before he knows it, it’s Wednesday afternoon and you’re texting him the location of one of the parks in the city. You had told him not to worry about the food because you would bring it. Jungkook’s only job was bringing the picnic blanket, a huge checkered thing he had spent all morning rifling through three stores for. He wants to impress you, desperately so, that he’s even wearing a nicer outfit today, darker tones unlike his normal warm palette because he had heard a woman at his job say men look cooler in dark colors.

Suffice to say, he sticks out like a sore thumb at the park, the stark black of his jeans contrasting with the vibrant green of the neatly cut grass. Jungkook has half the mind to feel self-conscious about it, but then you’re calling his name from a couple meters away and his breath leaves his lungs.

“Hi,” you greet, the handle of your wicker basket held tightly between two hands; Jungkook rushes to relieve you of the weight. “Did you wait long?” you ask, rewarding his gentlemanly behavior with a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth that kick-starts his heart back into action and has his face burning up.

In all honesty, you have never dressed very modestly— not that you had to, nor that there was anything remotely wrong with that. Jungkook has spent many a mass service fighting the urge to glance down the front of your dresses and tops, ignoring the cleavage you liked to show off now and then. But apparently, what Jungkook had seen up until now was your version of dressing modestly. The dress you show up with today, an off day where there are no church ladies to impress and no unspoken dress codes to follow, makes his brain short circuit. The thin, thin, straps that hold it up giving him an all access view to the broad expanse of your shoulders and chest and collarbones and boobs—

“No!” Jungkook rushes to reassure you, fighting down the blush that threatens to travel further down his neck when you carefully straighten out the collar of his shirt for him. “I- I, um, just got here.”

You beam at the news. “I bought cheesecake,” you tell him, looping your arm through his as you tug him along. “I hope it hasn’t melted yet!”

By the time the two of you settle at a suitable spot near the lake, the cheesecake hasn’t melted. It’s still cold and solid, tastes like heaven on Jungkook’s tongue, and you laugh when his eyes light up. You look gorgeous like this, nestled against the checkered picnic blanket with a glass bottle of sparkling water in your hand, sandals just beside the edge of the blanket. There’s the faint chime of a bicycle bell somewhere to his left and the chatter of birds as they flock over the pond. Wonderful sights that would normally take his breath away and make him marvel at their beauty, but when you smile at him so gingerly like that, all Jungkook can think about is you.

He watches you slip a strawberry past your lips. “Tell me about yourself,” you hum, seemingly out of the blue, wiping the corner of your mouth with one careful finger. “Other than, like, church stuff,” you tease.

As you lean forward for another one, Jungkook’s brain stutters for a moment, eyes focused on the curves of your boobs as they naturally follow the movements of your upper body until he’s dizzy. “Huh?” he says, and you snort. “Oh— me, right, yes um—“

“Your favorite color?” you suggest, tugging the skirt of your dress tighter around your legs. It’s not cold, but there’s a slight breeze that keeps rolling over the two of you, pushing your floral scent over Jungkook and fluttering through his hair. “Right now, all I know is that you like cheesecake because you ate three slices at the bazaar the other week,” you chuckle.

It’s such a basic question, the bare minimum of knowing a person. But when you look at Jungkook like that, blinking those long lashes at him, it makes him forget his answer. “Um… Red,” he murmurs, watching you tug off the stem of the strawberry in your hands. “And white.”

You nod, and then you’re stretching a hand outward to offer him the aforementioned strawberry. When he doesn’t open his mouth right away, you silently demonstrate first, until Jungkook is slowly parting his lips and accepting your strawberry. The flavor bursts on his tongue, sweet and sticky, coating the very tips of your fingers when you don’t pull away fast enough. Jungkook averts his gaze when you pop them between your own lips and suck them clean.

“Red and white,” you repeat, unaware of the lustful images that flicker through Jungkook’s mind, the way his eyes unconsciously drop to the front of your dress, at the crevice between your breasts that he remembers oh so well, the tight suction around his cock as you— “They make pink, which is my favorite color.” He desperately clears his mind of the memories that flash before his eyes.

It’s a pretty color, fit for a pretty girl. Jungkook keeps the thought to himself as he watches you sift through the contents of your basket. It’s the perfect compliment to give you, he knows it’d make you happy, but his valor disappears when you throw him a soft grin and he’s transported back to a more recent memory, the memory in the car instead.

A bad influence, he had called you, had watched your eyes well up with an emotion he had never seen on you before. Sadness? Disappointment? Disgust? He wasn’t sure, all Jungkook could really remember was the acidity on your tongue when you had repeated the words back to him, the ghost of your touch when you had abruptly pulled away from him, shut him out. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so closed off before, not even when he had first met you and you were parading around with that staged shyness.

And even when Jungkook had corrected himself afterwards (read: lied to you to cover his tracks), the emotion had lingered. Even when you had playfully brushed him off, he had caught your reflection in the window beside you as he drove to your place. The sullen look on your normally happy face, lips down-turned, eyes lowered. A look he had put there.

And now he’s watching you carefully rip apart bread to throw at the birds with a tender smile. A cloud moves and suddenly the sun is beating down on your little picnic again, casting a beautiful glow across your skin that renders him breathless for the shortest moment, trapped by the sheer beauty you exude. You’re absolutely ethereal, and yet he had questioned you. Your morals, your character, everything.

“__?” he says before he can stop himself.

You hum, “yes, bunny?” before pausing your little feeding task to glance back over at him. When you look at Jungkook like this, meet his gaze straight on, he doesn’t see an ounce of ingenuity in your eyes. It might be Jungkook’s lovesick heart speaking, but he can’t imagine you ever lying to him. He looks away first, frowning at the various fruits sprawled between the two of you.

You care about him, that much Jungkook wants to believe. And his beliefs are confirmed, when your voice drops an octave lower, becomes softer, as you murmur, “is everything alright?” The fruits are carefully set aside, breaking the wall between the two of you until you can shuffle forward, your knees bumping against his. Hands reach for his, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against his skin.

Before you can repeat your inquiry a second time, Jungkook finds himself asking, “do you like me?”

Jungkook’s sudden inquiry makes your cheeks heat up just the slightest, your startled inhale barely contained.

It’s like a scene straight out of a teenage romcom— a confession in a park, your hearts bared for each other. But it’s a little awkward, you have to admit, unintentionally giving Jungkook’s soft hand a nervous squeeze as his question rolls over in your mind.

Duh, you want to say. But there’s something about the look in Jungkook’s eye— the eyes he very purposefully turns towards your hands, the hair he had let loose today providing him ample protection from your gaze —that has you pausing, carefully considering your next words.

You had hoped by now that it was obvious, that Jungkook understood how much he meant to you, and didn’t require some dorky confession in the park. Partially because, well. This wasn’t your usual role. Usually, it was the guy confessing to you, raving about all your redeeming qualities in an effort to win you over. But with Jungkook, all you know about relationships is flipped upside down, forcing you to play a position you’ve never played before.

Jungkook wasn’t like you; he was soft and sentimental, practically wore his heart on his sleeve for the whole world to see. And it was a massive heart, filled with so much love and adoration for the world around him, that you felt bad when he wore such sullen expressions on his face.

Expressions like the one he has now, lips pressed together tightly as he misreads your silence. He has honest eyes, a dark toffee color that sends tingles down your spine when he looks your way. They glimmer with a sort of innocence for the world, a thin sparkle that makes him look like a prince sometimes. He was devastatingly handsome, and now he was upset. “Um— it’s okay,” he stammers, trying to move the conversation along. But his eyes flicker around nervously, anxiously. Like your silence has left a burn mark on him, painful and delicate to the touch.

His comment isn’t completely unexpected. How very on-brand for big-hearted Jungkook to try to save you from an uncomfortable interaction, even if it was caused by him. “Um…” he murmurs, “it’s okay. If you don’t, uh. Like me?”

It sounds flimsy, even to you.

“No, no,” you rush to correct, your ability to speak slowly coming back to you only after the fact. “I do,” you admit, nerves on edge at this rather foreign situation. “I… like you a lot, Jungkook.”

You shouldn’t be surprised by his reaction. Jungkook blinks slowly, like his brain is still processing the information, and then, ever so artfully, goes up in metaphorical flames. “O- Oh,” he stutters, reaching a free hand up to press his knuckles against his face. The rosy hue that had first blossomed over his cheeks has now started crawling down his neck now, up his ears. It’s terribly endearing. “I— um. I didn’t know,” Jungkook rambles, and it’s so cute, so sweet, how a simple confession from you renders him this flustered.

His face emanates a warmth tangible even on your own skin, lips cutely quirking to the side as he fights off a bashful smile and the raging blush your words bring about. It certainly is a sight to see. His hair tickles his eyebrow, swept out of its usually neat style, but it makes him look all the more gorgeous. “Cute,” you chuckle, feeling the slightest bit shy at such a warm response from Jungkook. You sit back, giving him the space he needs, and turn your attention up at the big blue sky instead. “Really? I thought it was obvious,” you hum.

Part of you actually feels really awkward; as you said before, everything is so brand new with him. With Jungkook, he flips everything around for you, makes you actually admit to your emotions as opposed to simply going along with his. It’s a nice change of pace, as difficult as it may be, and the results are rather… cute as well. (He bites down a smile, but the action makes his normally soft cheeks look more pronounced than usual.)

“Because, I, um. Me too,” he says, voice wavering. He clears his throat and tries to meet your gaze under his fringe, but doesn’t last more than a second before he’s pointedly glancing at the picnic blanket beneath the two of you. “I’m— I like you too,” he admits, ears tinted a bright red. You figured as much but it was always nice to hear, especially from someone like Jungkook. “A lot.”

“Thanks,” you smile, placing a hand on his thigh.

His lips pull into a shy smile, aimed at your knees because he can never look you in the eye when you shower him in praise and other gooey, mushy feelings. It’s the same in the car or against your front door— he always manages to give your hand a tight squeeze, maybe even a kiss if he’s feeling brave. But the second you try to tell him you’ve had fun or that you’ll miss him, it’s like all his courage fades away, leaving him a blushing, smiley mess.

He was cute like that. Despite being so kind and caring, it was like Jungkook’s entire being stopped functioning when those types of gestures were aimed at him. So you relished those moments, looked forward to them with a fluttery feeling in your heart that couldn’t be tamed.

Today, he throws you for a loop. Just as that proud, giddy smile appears, cheeks and ears a pretty pink, it fades away. The excitement from your mutual confessions seems to remind Jungkook of something else, something less warm, that has him quietly mumbling, “I’m sorry.”

It’s confusing, to say the least. Just a moment prior, he had been pursing his lips in a silly attempt to hold back a smile. Now he’s staring at the ground with a rather pensive look, his apology sitting heavy in his throat. “What for?” you tentatively ask after one long beat. It had been so sudden. In your mind, there isn’t a single reason for Jungkook to be apologizing to you, especially so out of the blue. There is, however, an inkling of fear brought upon by what can only be classified as insecurity; you had just confessed your feelings for each other, why was he sorry about that?

Jungkook exhales, a quiet sound that is nearly lost among the bustling noises of the park. If you hadn’t been sitting so close, maybe you wouldn’t have heard it at all. “I just,” he huffs, pointedly glaring at some random spot of grass beside you. His features look sharper than ever now, jawline defined, brows narrowed together. It’s a rather misplaced realization, but Jungkook looks absolutely gorgeous with distress painting his face. “I was… being selfish before.”

In the few weeks you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize Jungkook was many things. First and foremost, he’s an absolute gentleman. Raised on manners and compassion, looking after others everywhere he went. He was caring and sweet, loved this world and the people in it so much. Soft-spoken but straightforward. He was dreamy, disgustingly so.

But selfish? It definitely sounds like something Jeon Jungkook is not.

Before you can interrogate him even further, it seems like Jungkook is dead set on getting through this alone. “I- I’m sorry,” he repeats, eyes downcast. Noticing his wavering confidence, you resign yourself to listening, hand giving him a reassuring squeeze. Finally, after a short moment, Jungkook murmurs, “...in the car.” You tilt your head to the side curiously, waiting for him to go on. “I said, um. Something rude.”

It takes a moment for the memory to load, and when it finally clicks into place and begins rolling, you find yourself muttering a faint, “ah.”

If it’s what you think it is, he’s talking about last weekend outside of the church. That terribly awkward encounter that had left a sour taste in your mouth afterwards. A bad influence, you recall him saying, the memory of his voice looped in your mind the entire drive to your place.

In all honesty, it had stung a little. While you were aware that Jungkook had an ongoing mental battle, you hadn’t realized your role was that big in it. It’s the reason you had sent him home that day, made up a lie about schoolwork just to give him some space. It’s nothing new, everyone’s had someone think badly of them before; gossipy classmates, rivals, maybe even random strangers on the street. But it felt different when it was coming from someone as sweet as Jungkook, so polite and righteous, who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Like he was stating a fact, not an opinion.

It was a slip-up on Jungkook’s end, that much you could tell. Because he had been frantic to correct himself afterwards, had looked at you with these fearful eyes, like one wrong move and you’d slip from between his hands. Luckily, you weren’t that sensitive— definitely not as sensitive as him, at least —and such a comment had been practically meaningless moments later.

Still, in those few moments where it was meaningful (read: the short period it took for Jungkook to get home and call you, the words looping around your brain until the harsh ring of your cell phone finally interrupted), it had left you wondering. Have you been pushing him too far, asking for too much? The way you saw it, you always gave Jungkook room to object to any of your advances. You know he’s trapped in his thoughts more often than not, but you pay attention to him, you really do. You make sure to take his reactions into account, try to offer solutions where possible. But, for the briefest moment, all of those efforts had felt fruitless that day in the car.

What you say next is not a complete lie; sure, Jungkook’s comment had hurt for a bit, but here he was now apologizing for it. That was a good sign… right? “It’s okay,” you brush off, patting his cheek softly, hoping with every fiber in your being that it really was okay.

Your voice is gentle, soothing his doubts. Just moments prior, Jungkook had felt like he was asking for too much, especially when your feelings toward him were up in the air. But your earnest confession soothed the ache in his heart. It’s all he’s wanted these past few months, to belong in your heart like you do his.

But the guilt from before, the tumultuous feelings he’s been harboring towards you since the weekend, dampens his excitement. From your confession alone, it doesn’t seem like you questioned Jungkook. You weren’t put off by who he was, what he loved. So why couldn’t Jungkook be like you, think like you?

“I’m still sorry,” he says again, feeling like a broken record when he catches this sympathetic smile on your face. The scraps of eloquence he had gathered while originally apologizing seem to fade away, leave him a stuttering mess when he tries again. “That was— I shouldn’t have said—“

“Hey,” you cut off, placing a hand against his cheek. It stops his fidgeting, forces him to meet your gaze head on. There’s a smile on your face but something inside of Jungkook says it doesn’t feel real. “I like you, Jungkook.”

And it’s true and genuine, your words so honest it pains him to think he had ever thought otherwise. And you’re still smiling, even after being hit with the implication that Jungkook questioned your character and maybe that’s what hurts the most. That you still try to put on an easygoing expression for him after he’s said something hurtful. It’s the car all over again, that blank look in your eyes when he had spoken carelessly.

Before he can apologize for the umpteenth time, you’re shaking your head softly, smiling anew. But this time, he can’t tell if it’s real or not. “I brought orange juice,” you say, expertly moving the conversation along. And just as Jungkook has been thinking for weeks now, it’s like you know him so well. You know when things make him anxious or uncomfortable, know just how to help him out.

There’s a feeling of guilt that blossoms in his chest, but this time it’s different.

It’s not the usual sticky gross feeling of before, the one that has him staying up at night repenting for all his wrongdoings. It’s a personal kind of guilt that comes along with the frank realization that, while you have been learning and adapting to being around Jungkook, he has not been doing the same for you.

Though you may be a little playful at times, you don’t tease him for who he is, don’t stomp all over his beliefs as much as he deluded himself into thinking you do. (That whole, faux-believer thing was a different circumstance.) Like with the cross in his house the other day. As much as Jungkook wanted to believe what you had done was evil, he had, quite honestly, enjoyed himself afterwards. There wasn’t that heavy discomfort sitting on his chest anymore, that sense of shame lingering as you’d kissed his body and let him caress yours too, in the safety of your eyes only. It was enjoyable and fun, had felt exhilarating to be so intimate with you.

And instead of being thankful for your mindful efforts, he had questioned your sincerity.

The picnic goes by in a flash. Jungkook is sad he can’t enjoy it to the fullest, his brain filled with clamorous thoughts that circled around to torture him every few minutes. Still, the entire date feels like a dream, vibrant and beautiful, leaving him in a daze. He doesn’t want to wake up.

By the time you suggest wrapping up, the sun is setting over the horizon, the windows and lights of the buildings around you slowly flickering to life like a sea of tiny stars. He feels weak in the knees as he helps you pack everything back in your basket. “All set,” you smile, walking beside him, knuckles brushing against his until you fulfill Jungkook’s wordless wish and slip your hand into his.

Jungkook agrees, hoping his hand isn’t sweaty and that you mean what you say. “I- I liked the food,” he remembers to mention, the fact that you had so carefully and lovingly prepared all this not entirely lost on him. His compliment, as simple as it may be, has you beaming at him as you exit through the park’s front gates. His car is parked along the street, the sleek vehicle coming into view as you round the street corner, hands still fastened. “Um,” he mumbles, pausing beside it. You turn to face him, eyes clear and content.

All good things come to an end, he supposes, reluctantly letting go of your hand when you tug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” you say, stepping up close, chest pressed against his. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes going wide when you nuzzle against his neck. Your hands slip around his waist. They wrap around him perfectly, make Jungkook feel like he was made for you.

By the time he’s springing into action, jerkily raising his free hand up to your back, you’re stepping away. “Call me when you get home,” you wink, sending shivers down his spine when he remembers what happened the last time you said that.

But Jungkook doesn’t think he can wait that long.

You’re slipping further and further away, fingertips just barely brushing against his forearm, when Jungkook jolts into action. “How are you, um—“ he stammers, feels too big for his shoes when you tilt your head curiously. And then, “d- do you need a ride?” he mumbles, cheeks warm.

It’s a feeble attempt at asking what he really wants. Offering you a ride home, while not a bad idea considering it was late and you had taken the bus here, is nowhere near what Jungkook really wants. What he wants is standing before him, thin spaghetti strap slipping down their shoulder, eyes sensually half-lidded and you know this too— because, again, you know Jungkook so well, know what he wants even if he can’t say it —as you step into his bubble again, peer up at him with your arms held behind your back.

“A ride home?” you ask, blinking your long lashes in a way that robs him of his breath. And he can see that switch flick on inside of you, watches that pure and innocent gleam in your eyes slowly become replaced with something mischievous. Jungkook nods dumbly. “I’d love that.”

Jungkook blinks. “Great,” he chokes out, neatly dropping the wicker basket in his hands. In a way, it brings him back down to reality, lets him snap away from your hypnotizing gaze as he reaches for the keys in his pocket. “Let me— I just have to— yeah,” he stammers, clicking the button on his car keys one too many times, has it perkily beeping. Your lips press together into an amused smile, the last thing Jungkook sees before ripping himself away from you and yanking the back door open.

He nearly throws the basket in like a madman, glassware be damned. It’s his last shred of rationality that tells him not to, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge as he steps up to the edge of the sidewalk and carefully places it on the floor behind the passenger’s seat.

When Jungkook rises back up, there is a hand that brushes against his forearm, a gentle touch that has him throwing a curious glance your way. He’s not expecting to be so entranced by the dreamy look in your eyes, feet glued to the ground as you trail your hand down, catching his wrist between your fingers. You’re standing so close, making Jungkook feel like he’s trapped between you and his own car. His entire body is on edge when you lean in, placing a soft kiss against the very corner of his mouth. It leaves a tingling sensation, and accompanied with the growing warmth beneath his skin, feels like he’s been burned. “I had fun,” you murmur, voice low. It sends a shock of electricity down his spine, a wave of exhilaration that has him fully turning to face you as you eventually step away, that same playful grin on your features again.

A surge of confidence and greed overcomes him, has him stepping forward into your space despite the nervousness that builds within him. There’s a hint of surprise in your eyes that you quickly mask, placating his bumbling nerves with a delicate hand placed over his heart. He can’t breathe when you lean in, softly humming, “kiss me?”

Jungkook’s lower lip wobbles. “O- Okay,” he concedes, voice but an airy whisper that is soon swallowed up. You taste like fruit and orange juice, remnants of your picnic clinging to your lips as you slowly consume Jungkook’s entire attention with this soft brush alone. It’s a rather short affair, one that ends all too soon when you pull away with a soft sigh against his lips.

Your smile is so pretty when you angle it at him, has him taking one jerky step backwards. His back hits the car, feels trapped. But he isn’t scared, doesn’t find himself anxiously awaiting your next move. “Good boy,” you purr, reaching one graceful hand forward, playfully tugging at his tie, wrapping it around your knuckles as you use it as leverage to pull him close again.

You’re just so pretty, Jungkook has always thought so. From the moment he first met you until now, there is something about you—a glint in your eyes, a quirk to your lips—that has had him under your spell for weeks now.

Had Jungkook seriously despised you and your ethics, perhaps this feeling would have gone away. But the fact of the matter is that you make Jungkook’s heart hammer dangerously in his chest, a shot of adrenaline through his veins when you look at him with those low-lidded eyes, touch him with those experienced hands. He wants you so bad, even after all he’s learned, all he’s seen. He wants you over him and under him, pressed against him from head to toe. He wants and he wants, and he knows it’s bad to want so much, to be so greedy. But with you around, Jungkook finds himself giving into that greed, clutching at it like a lifeline. “We can, um—,” he stammers, placing one uncertain hand against the top of the door frame beside him. You raise your brows, egging him on yet patiently waiting all at once.

Your gaze is so strong, and it’s in moments like these that Jungkook feels that feeling crawl up his throat. A serpentine gaze, a sticky sweet tongue. Everything he’s ever known says it’s wrong, but his heart and your confession says otherwise. He looks away, throws a bashful glance at the plush leather seats behind him. “In… inside?”

And the offer has you positively beaming before him, that same flirtatious shimmer in your irises doubling at the words that roll off his tongue. “Oh my,” you swoon playfully, stepping back to, Jungkook assumes, allow him to get in.

He plops down, feels like he would break out in a sweat if the evening temperature wasn’t so cool. The car’s interior blends into the shadows, his clothing practically indiscernible against the dark shade of the seats. A stark contrast to the pretty floral dress that suddenly spills itself over his lap when you climb in, the door tugged shut beside the two of you. All is silent, your thighs over his, hands on his shoulders. “Hi, bunny,” you murmur, lips pulled into a smirk, provocative yet playful, like you know something that Jungkook doesn’t.

Jungkook’s throat feels dry but he still manages to gulp. He’s drowning in your perfume and your body lotion, in the faint smell of the outdoors clinging to your clothes and your hair, the absolutely heavenly scent of just you in your entirety. “Hi,” he whispers back, voice lost beneath the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. And his quiet greeting is rewarded with two soft hands that crawl up his neck, cupping his face in their palms.

“You were so sweet today,” you purr, nose nudging against his when you finally lean in, pressing your breasts against Jungkook. A tiny gasp catches in his throat, his hands instinctively going to your waist. “Can I kiss you again?”

Jungkook has never wanted anything more. “Please,” he exhales, feeling like he’ll explode if you don’t kiss him soon. You take his request in stride, jut your face forward just the slightest bit until your mouth is pressed firmly against his, the movement of your lips a practiced rhythm that he just can’t seem to master. He still tries his best, puckers his lips when he feels it’s right, tilts his head when you urge him with a soft nudge. He tries his best and hopes it’s enough.

By now, Jungkook has come to understand that there is a pattern to your kisses. You always start off slow and relaxed, mouth languidly moving against his as you lure him across a tightrope of anticipation. They gradually become more intense, pulling out whimpers and sighs from Jungkook that he had never known were possible. It’s a carefully crafted art form, the tongue that slides out from between your pillowy lips, dips into his own mouth with a giggly pant. “Good boy,” you hum in between, hands burying themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Always so good.”

Jungkook shudders when you eventually part, can’t catch his breath fast enough before you’re reaching for the buttons on the front of his shirt, easily undoing the casual tie too. “Relax,” you tell him, bypassing his lips for the warm expanse of skin just below. You kiss over his chin, down his neck, as your hands crawl beneath his shirt and around his naked waist.

He’s ticklish, and when you brush against his ribs, he unwillingly releases a sharp huff of laughter. It’s followed by a wide-eyed look of embarrassment, cheeks a warm hue when you lean back in surprise at this new bit of information. “I— sorry,” he blurts out, because he doesn’t know proper make-out etiquette, doesn’t know anything really, except what you’ve shown him.

But the sound makes you snort, looking at him with this gaze that drips with honey. “So cute,” you tell him, placing a chaste kiss against his lips, before disappearing back down to lavish his throat with filthier kisses. And with you laving your tongue across his skin, biting at every inch available, Jungkook is left to fuzzily stare over the crystal clear windshield. He’s struck with the faint realization that if someone were to look hard enough, they would see him through the tinted glass as he fell apart into the hands of a pretty girl.

The soft smack of your lips against his skin is sensual, makes every hair on his body stand stiff. Your lips trail down the column of his neck, placing a bruising kiss at the juncture where it meets the rest of his body. “Oh,” he sighs, eyelids fluttering when a hand squeezes at his chest, thumb against his nipple.

Another muffled giggle pressed against the base of his neck, and when Jungkook focuses his eyes again, he catches his own gaze in the rearview mirror.

The sight of him is… weird to say the least.

Even in the dark, his lips look thoroughly debauched, puffier and redder than usual, slick with saliva that isn’t entirely his. He doesn’t tell himself to, but his mirrored counterpart peeks his tongue out, runs it along his top lip sinfully. Startled by his own appearance, Jungkook jolts in place, feeling you shift in his lap with a soft little whine. “Bunny,” you frown, and Jungkook watches your side profile in the tiny mirror as you sit back up, press your lips against his ear. “Sit still for me,” you tell him, hand slithering up his chest, around his throat. Over his Adam’s apple, squeezing just the slightest. It’s not tight, but it knocks the air out of his lungs when he sees the action mirrored back at him on the reflective surface.

That familiar guilt sticks in his throat, evident when your hand slips away and he swallows harshly, the protrusion just beneath his skin bobbing up and down.

In the back of Jungkook’s mind, he can recall the religious story that surrounded this bodily feature; a sin and the consequence. A garden and a fruit, a beautiful woman by his side.

Your hand creeps down between your bodies, palming over his quickly fattening cock, and Jungkook swears he sees stars, a strained whimper escaping from his lips that you giggle at. “Oh my,” he huffs, clutching at the skirt of your dress. You nuzzle close again, pressing a tender kiss against the side of his neck.

Your hands are so soft and sweet, brushing over his cock like you’re simply caressing him out of adoration and not because you want him to cum, staining his seats and your dress. Either way, Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine what you must be thinking; before the date and his confession, he had been afraid that you would discard him. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t what you wanted, maybe he wasn’t what you needed. You were so confident in yourself and your actions, a stark contrast to Jungkook and his constant uncertainty, his fear of doing the wrong thing plaguing him at all hours of the day.

Even now, with your hands expertly tugging his zipper down, he finds himself going back to that story. That apple in the garden, the consequences it had hailed. Never mind the fact you’re on top of him, claiming to like him, with your hands touching every inch of his skin. He keeps looping back to that Biblical verse instead, thinks about it when your fingers meanly let the elastic band of his briefs snap against his skin. “Ouch,” he flinches, voice a soft whine. He turns too quickly and too suddenly, nose bumping against yours because you’re still so close.

You smile, puckering your lips for the lightest of kisses. It’s the little things like that that make Jungkook’s entire thought process stall, distantly aware of the fact that it’s, like always, you leading the majority of your encounters once again. Even during your picnic, it had been you who had practically held his hand as you navigated through basic information, asked for his favorite color and his favorite drink. Had it not been for your own proactive tendencies, Jungkook fears he would have never known your favorite color was pink or your favorite day of the week was Thursday.

It’s a fact that makes him pause, jaw tightening as he once again realizes how little effort he was putting into knowing you. For someone who claimed to like you a lot, he rarely did the work to prove it. Even now, he’s too unsure of who he is and who you are to indulge you properly, instead watching you lead the scene as usual. Before he can stop himself, a sigh is escaping his lips.

It must convey his emotions perfectly, because it’s enough to make your wandering hands pause by his waist. “Everything okay?” you ask, always knowing what he’s feeling. And it sucks that he couldn’t say the same for himself.

“N— Yes,” he rushes to say, looking up at you with round eyes, the moonlight painting half of your face a paler color than usual, the other side shrouded in darkness. It makes your eyes look darker, makes Jungkook gulp loudly when you turn those inquisitive eyes on him.

His answer doesn’t seem to convince you, and it’s with little to no hesitation that you sit back. It puts a distance between the two of you that Jungkook can’t say he’s a fan of. “Jungkook,” you say, voice stern yet warm, one hand reaching up to brush your knuckles against his cheek. “Tell me what’s bothering you?”

It makes Jungkook nervous. He knows he thinks too much. Part of him fears that oversharing with you will drive you away, put you even farther than you are now. Maybe next time it’ll be a room’s length away, a football field’s length away. And he doesn’t want that; he wants to hold you close, he really does. But there are traditions he carries and beliefs he holds dearly that make it hard for him to do so, as much as it pains him.

The only reason he knows he’s frowning is because you press your pointer finger against the corner of his mouth. You lean in close, nose bumping against his. It sends your scent billowing over him, makes him dizzy when he becomes aware of the hand he’s got on your bare thigh, the rumpled skirt of your dress pushed away. “Talk to me, bunny,” you murmur. You don’t make a move to kiss him, a fact that Jungkook feels both grateful and disheartened by. “Please?”

And he can’t deny you, not when you ask so nicely. You have this metaphorical grip on Jungkook, a tight hold around his throat that has made him act impulsively these past few weeks, desperate to be with you, to please you. Even now, despite how much he wants to withhold his thoughts, he finds himself quietly admitting them instead. “I want to know you,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eye. You don’t push him to. “I really, um. I like you, __. A lot.” It’s a repetition of his earlier confession. And still, it makes him nervous. A thumb brushes against his cheekbone, encouraging him to meet your solemn gaze even if it means being a blushing mess afterwards. “Before we, uh, do… things.”

His words may be choppy and incoherent, but you understand him all the same. “You want to go out some more,” you clarify, removing your hand from his cheek. The phantom trail of your fingertips on his skin remains, feels colder when you lean away to allow him some more space.

Jungkook nods quickly, hoping this rush of adrenaline might help him through this. He bites down on his lower lip, carefully analyzing your expression for any signs of disbelief or disgust. But all he sees is understanding, a cool expression that makes Jungkook’s heart thunder. “I…,” he says, glancing down at where he’s still got his hand on your naked skin. Something inside of him tells him to rub his thumb across it, an action he doesn’t think through until he hears a sharp inhale, watches goosebumps rise over the skin. “I’m sorry,” he rushes out, snatching his hand away before he can do something else of a similar sort. “I- I just—“ said hand now waves around wildly beside him “—I really like you, as a, um— uh. A person. And I—“ and this is where he becomes aware of his unbuttoned shirt and the way you’ve got your pretty pussy pressed against his thigh now “—I, um. I want to know me— I mean, you —better? More? Like—“

His embarrassing babbling is cut off with a gentle kiss to his lips. No tongue, no saliva. Just soft lips against his, a delicate hand against his shoulders. When you pull away, Jungkook unconsciously trails after the touch, eyes half-lidded and in a daze when you place a palm on his chest. “I got it,” you say, lips quirking into a tiny smile. “I want to know more about you too, bunny,” you admit, reaching for the front of his shirt. He watches on with flushed cheeks as you slowly button it up for him, finishing it off with a playful tap against the underside of his chin.

You glance out of the window thoughtfully. Jungkook is suddenly reminded of how pretty you are, your skin practically glimmering under the pale moonlight. It catches on your necklace, a thin chain with a cross on the end. If he focuses his eyes behind you, his own reflection stares back once more. Jungkook’s entire body threatens to lock up tightly, but a single kiss on the cheek from you interrupts the process. “Do you wanna date?” you ask, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Jungkook can’t agree fast enough. “I— yes,” he gasps, leaning forward too suddenly. It makes you flinch back in surprise, back pressing up against the driver’s seat behind you in surprise. You wouldn’t have fallen or anything, but Jungkook reacts like it was a serious possibility anyway, grasping at your waist and pulling you snug against him, soft thighs sandwiching his tiny waist. “Oh, God,” he frets, immediately moving to release you.

But you catch him with two arms thrown around his neck, pulling Jungkook close to you for another kiss. Deeper and… meaningful, your satiny lips carefully slotted against his. While it surprises him at first, Jungkook finds himself melting into it soon enough. This was okay, he tells himself, and for the first time in a few weeks, he finds himself believing it.

It was just kissing— intimate yet appropriate kissing —between two people who were seeing each other. Him, properly seeing you. His heart threatens to burst out of its cage for a second. It’s the first time since he’s met you that he can fully say he hadn’t felt nervous about his actions, hadn’t felt like he was committing some grave sin for chasing after your touch. It was just a kiss, simple and sweet, making both of you smile bashfully when you eventually pull away. There was no lying and no guilt, no tears and no stress.

It felt good.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jungkook fic #jjk fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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spiderqueen8 · 3 years ago

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So as you may or may not know, Universal Reboot is at 50% today and Mark dropped something big, a website almost entirely written in cypher. Decoding it is easy enough both because there is a page with an alphabetized list but also because copy pasting the text into a text editor will translate it for you automatically.

And while this is far from my usual content I wanted to share some of my findings. Just cause I thought it was funny/interesting. Definitely still check all this out on your own tho!

SPOILERS BELOW!!

The password for the website, first of all is: THE UNIVERSE IS LITTERED WITH THE CORPSES OF YOUR FAILURES (yes in call caps)

Now most of the links don’t work and just lead toa 404 page not found message that reads:

ERROR 404 The page you’re trying to access doesn’t seem to exist. The most likely answer for this is that you entered an incorrect url, the less likely answer is that the universe is in a paradoxical state and trying to reboot itself causing some things to act erratically [but that would be absurd! so it’s probably just the incorrect url thing].

But one page we can look at is the Case Directory. Now, again, most of these links just go to the same 404 message, BUT! The links themselves can be deciphered. And not only that, clicking on them will still show unique links in the URL bar despite the 404. And that’s an easy enough way to figure out what the links say but not all of them match up directly. Other people have already posted full lists of the translated links but here are some noteworthy link name vs URL comparisons.

“Corn” = corn-dm (DM of course standing for Del Monte) “Harold Potter” = Terf war (lmao is Mark calling JK Rowling a TERF?) “Lunky” = LixianTV (Oh that’s fun, probably just an easter egg but considering the video that led to this website in the first place I’m personally gonna consider Lunky and Lixian Markiplier canon) “Moses, Norbert” and “Subtitle #1, James Charles” both = redacted (Unus Anus references let’s goo)

There’s a bunch more funny ones so I encourage you to check them out yourself but those are the ones I really wanted to mention.

Moving on, there are 2 links here that work. One leads you to The Drowned Man - Chapter 1 @ 13:47 specifically. Wade says a bunch of numbers here that presumably mean something but idk what.

The other working link is for the Invincible Syndicate (worth noting that the URL says Invincible 2 Syndicate instead) and through here we can actually access a list of suspects. Some of which have descriptions! Most don’t tho, and some of the photos are even missing.

But hey, we get a description: Being of otherworldly beauty and/or handsomeness. Great decision making.

As does Gunther: Fleshy combustion vessel with firearm appendages, trails exhaust fumes, shoots objects to submission

And also 2 thus unnamed characters: Theoretical physicist, member of crew. No proof of work, just a theory. (Matpat) - Multiversal being of sexuality and prominent arousal. Direct eye contact leads to procreation. (Danny? The picture is blurry and I don’t know the Game Grumps well, sorry T-T)

There’s a bunch more text that can be translated so go check it out on your own but that’s the main ones I thought were fun, even if they might not be particularly important.

#Look at me actually participating in one of these for once #In Space With Markiplier #ISWM #This is an insane amount of content #Do you think some of these links are gonna actually lead places eventually?#Markiplier

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unlikelyempathpruneauthor · 4 years ago

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Tour without You

Summary: fans saw the video of cal singing ghost of you and people think you two broke up.

a/n: SO YALL KNOW WHICH VIDEO I'M TALKING ABOUT RIGHT? Idk if he was actually crying, but a part of me tells me he was, but idk who knows, but i hope he was okay and is doing okay now.

You were currently home watching duke at yours and cal’s place. You couldn't go on tour with cal because of work, so being alone was a norm you had grown into. Whenever you didn't go on tour you and cal would spend time calling one another whenever a show was over, so he could see you and if you needed to comfort him for anything. He hated when he had to leave you alone, but you would reassure him you had someone that was a part of him. Duke would usually stay with the dog sitter, but when you stayed back home you watched duke. You two would have some quality time together as usual so the small pup can use his energy throughout the day.

For Cal though today, just wasn't his day. Their bus tour had taken a re-route, they got to the venue late, he couldn't focus during rehearsal since it was cut short, from them arriving late. Usually when stress came he was able to handle it well, but you usually were there to comfort him right there and then, which also added to his stress as well, not being able to be with you in moments like these. Fans in the audience and online had seen his expression and worried for him, especially when singing Ghost of you. He hated that his stress would reflect how he acts during shows, but today was really bad for him. Cal doesn't really notice when fans are recording, but a video had gone viral during the concert within minutes and fans skepulating about you and cal. You had no idea of this hence you not being near your phone all day and having a nice day out with duke. Your phone had been blasting all night and once you got home with duke you checked it once seeing all the notifications on all of your socials.You were slightly confused as to why there were so many so you checked it out.

@5SOSUPDATES: is it possible cal and y/n broke up? Could be because they haven been posting with one another. Also today’s performance he seemed sad, especially during Ghost of you.

“What the hell?” you said as the puppy barked at you as you continued to look for something that gave you some sort of idea that was going on. Then MTV also made a topic off of it.

SPECULATING BREAK UP RUMOURS: POPSTAR CALUM HOOD AND GIRLFRIEND Y/N L/N POSSIBLY BROKE UP BEFORE A SHOW DURING TOUR

You were quick to find the resources they were using to claim these speculations and there was a video of cal singing ghost of you, at first it was all good, he was singing good, you saw no sad emotions, but when it got to him harmonizing, with the ghost of you, that's when his expression changed. At first you thought that it was just the way he was singing. But you looked over and yeah you were convinced he was crying.

You tried to first go over anything you might have said to make him upset, but there was nothing, you texted when you could and he seemed fine the night before, so you didn't know what was wrong. Unless he lied to you, which he would do when he was away from you. He didn't want to bother you, but you always told him to talk to you when he was feeling down and not himself. You were always going to be there to talk to him always. Just then you got a call from mali, you were quick to answer as she probably has seen these as well.

“Mali, hey.” you said as she spoke, “hey super weried, but have you been on your socials and possibly MTV?” she asked as you sighed, “yes i have.” you said as she contuned, “okay, is it ture?? Did you two break up? Omg did cal do something because i swear-” she said as you giggled and cut her off, “no we didn't, well at least i think so, but uh, no i called him before this show and he seemed fine, but you know how he is, he doesn't tell the full truth until you get it out of him.” you said as she hummed, “thats true, well are you talking to him tonight?” she asked as you hummed back, “yeah i should be getting a call in about an hour, i dont think he has checked his phone yet, so i'll call you first thing alright?” you said as she hummed and you two said your goodbyes. As your phone was still blowing up, more and more rumours were being made, but you didn't expect to be getting attacked.

5SOSWILDFLOWER: Yall, there are some photos of y/n with another guy before cal had gone to tour, guess cal has a reason.

Caly/n_stan: i don't think she would cheat though, they've been together for years.

Lukehemmingsstan: i mean yeah but people change especially when dating a celeb, and it wouldn't be the first time a 5sos member would be cheated on.

@mikeycliff5sos: i mean you can tell she was just in it for the money and the fame, she never spoke about her job.

You were at first confused as to what pictures you were talking about, but then you clearly remember you were with the dog sitter, who happens to be a guy. He was one of Cal's best friends and he always took care of duke when you were away. You were there before cal had gone to tour, to tell him personally that you were staying with duke, since you knew him and it would be nice to catch up on duke’s behavior. Of course the fans didn't know that, but that didn't mean they should attack you. You were kinda stressed about this situation, especially with the things being said, fans even started to question your real intentions with cal and wondered if you were just after cal for his money and fame questioning your line of work as well, which wasnt public because you line of work was importnatn, you were a visual editor at entertainment company and well you kept it private and you didn't want any problems.

On cal’s side of things, he hadnt checked his phone at all wanting to handle one side of stress at a time. After teh show he realxed before calling you, making sure he looked good and fine. But once he lifted his phone he had seen so many notifications, at first he thought it was about the show from tonight but when he clicked he saw everything that was being said about you and him that you two had broken up and the means things being said about you. He was quick to call you as you answered quickly hoping he was okay.

“Hey” you both said quite rapidly, “sorry you go first.” cal said as you sighed and spoke, “are you okay? But i want to know the full truth cal, you know you can talk to me.” you said as he rubebd his head and wished he had spoken to you before anything, he knew if he talked to you hten these rumours wouldnt be made. “Fuck love, im sorry, we had to reroute the show for tonight we got there late, and rehearsal was rushed and, today i didn't do my best to hide my stressed emotions, i tried, but i couldnt, all i wnated to do was talk to you before the show, but i wasnt able to,” he said as his voice was cracking and you felt bad for him, you knew he handled stress well, but you knew today was one of those days, “bub its okay, just talk to me about this kind of stress to help you when you can, no matter what time it may be. I know im not htere, but remeber im a phone call away, always. No matter waht okay, you call me when youre feeling like this.” you said as he smiled a little missing you so much more than he should be able to.

“Youre too good for me you know that? Im sorry for waht the fans are saying, i'll straighten it out babe, they shouldnt be saying this stuff about you,” he said as you giggled, “its fine, it hurt at first, but i mean this all happend beucase i was out with dukes dogsitter,” you said as he laughed a little, “gosh the fans are really out of hand, i love you so much, youre there for me more than many times i could even count, you know youre it for me,” he said as you blushed hearing his words, he would tell you this all the time. It was true, you were it for him and he was it for you. “And youre it for me too, and i'll happily be there for you, always you know that.” you said as he smiled and jsut couldnt wait to get home to you. After talking for about 2 hours, you said your goodbyes and you had gone with the rest of your day as cal had straighten out with the fans about his citation.

He posted a picture on his story of you and captioned it:

To clear out the rumours from today, me and y/n are happily together. y/n has not and has never cheated on me, for those who know she is everything to me and i will do anything to not lose her. There is no anger towards this situation jsut please, be careful with what you say on the interent, even if y/n and i dont post about us everyday its not htat wer are not together, we like to live in the present with one another since i go away for tour. Usually shes here with me, but sadly she isnt. So again please just be aware with what you are posting, we are human and things that were said towards her will hurt anyone.

#calum hood #calum 5sos #calumthomashood #5sos calum #calum hood imagine #calum hood 5sos

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shuahoonie · 4 years ago

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out of love [tom holland]

PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader

SUMMARY: being close friends with your ex is fine, right? even if your love for them was unparalleled among others. even if you were still in the process of moving on from them. even if you know they’re happy with someone else. even if you have no clue whether they loved you like you loved them.

WARNINGS: foul language, so much angst, it starts ok at first then goes downhill from there. i literally write things on the go so i don’t know if this will have fluff at some point

(if it does and i didn’t state it here, send me a cute photo of tom and a message of: ok wow she pulled thru 🤪; and if it doesn’t have fluff, send me a meme and a message of: miss girl i simply cannot today ✋😃)

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

A/N: hello! tonight, we are going to be sad!!! i know i usually like to write about all things fluff, but this?? this is just for me because i am having one of those episodes. i just need to feel something again aside from the stress of writing 3 academic papers per week lmao. i’m def not expecting people to like this type of vibe but yannoe. i apologize in advance.

this is inspired by that one episode from new girl (season 6 x ep 16)

gif credits: @thollandgifs

vanessa’s masterlist | taglist form | part two - pandemonium

“You know, you can still live with us right?” Your friend Maia commented as she placed the box, labelled “fine china that mom gave me but will i ever use them?”, on the kitchen island.

“I know,” You murmured dropping the heavy case of pots and pans on the floor. “But maybe living alone will be good for me.” You replied, forcing a smile. “Besides, I don’t want to int—“

“Hey, Y/N, where do you want this?” Harrison asked as he held out a box that’s labelled with “books that my grandpa passed on. HANDLE WITH CARE!”

“Oh, just set it down on the living room—“ before you could even finish, Harrison dropped the box on the floor as if it was nothing. “Harrison!” You hissed, as you quickly rushed to check on the box.

“Y/N, babe, they’re just books. Surely they can withstand any amount of pressure, yeah?” Haz tried to reassure you.

“Haz, those books are from my grandpa—which I’m sure he got from his grandpa.” You sighed. “They’re really old and fragile, so I just want them to be in a well enough condition to stand in my bookcase.”

“‘m sorry,” He murmured, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s just, why do you have to move out?” Harrison asked, frustrated at the whole thing.

“Like I told Maia, maybe having my own place will be good for me.” You replied calmly, as you neatly put the box filled with your grandpa’s books in the corner room—the initial place where you want to build your bookcase. “It’s been a while since I’ve lived on my own.”

“Yeah,” Harrison acknowledged “But there’s absolutely no reason for you to move out. You can’t possibly leave me with her!” He pointed at Maia who let out an audible gasp. Harrison was being dramatic of course.

“Haz—“ You were trying to fight off a laugh. “You two are my constants and if I became dependant on having you two at my convenience, it’s going to be a huge problem.”

“In my opinion, I don’t see it as a problem.” Maia pointed out childishly. You shook your head in disbelief. You had to move out because you miss having a place to yourself— a place where you can be at your complete worst and you don’t have to think about your friends worrying about you.

Besides, moving out means you don’t have to see Tom that often and that was a bonus in your book. It wasn’t a sour breakup per se, it’s just really difficult to feel happy for your ex when he practically showcases how different he is now with his girlfriend.

You prided yourself as a mature and well-rounded person who could be complete friends with her ex as if that’s normal. You could only keep the façade for so long.

Four months. It’s been four months since you and Tom broke up. You lived with Maia soon after the breakup and that enough was a blessing. Maia couldn’t bear to handle the fact that you would be alone at a time like this. Harrison usually crashes at Maia’s so he was bound to move in with you two. In fact, he was always there more often than you.

That was the point where you were convinced that Harrison liked Maia and that Maia liked Harrison.

Conveniently, you and Tom never ‘officially’ moved in together so you could avoid him freely at all costs.

Of course, that was eventually going to end soon. You and Tom were in the same friend group so you were bound to see each other, much to your dismay. You couldn’t exactly make Harrison and Maia pick friends because it’s not fair for anyone.

You were all friends before you and Tom decided to date. Maybe that’s why people say to never date a friend—especially if they’re near and dear.

You were coming back from work when you found people in the living room, and as if the universe really wanted to test you, it was the least likely people you’d expect to see.

“Y/N!” Maia’s voice was pure panic. “I didn’t know you’d be home this early.”

Your eyes quickly flickered between the two people standing across you before you diverted your attention to Maia. “Uh—yeah. There wasn’t really much to do in the office so I came home early.”

Maia turned to Harrison who was equally lost on how to handle the situation. I mean, who wouldn’t?! What were you supposed to do when your friend drops in unannounced with their new girlfriend and to makes the matters worse, your other friend—whom your friend dated before— decides to come home early?

You didn’t know how what kind of spirit took over your body that prompted you to extend your hand to the girl sitting beside your ex and say: “Hello, I’m Y/N.”

The girl looked surprised but shook your hand in return. “Nadine,” Nadine smiled slyly “I—um, I’m Tom’s girlfriend.”

Tom looked mildly uncomfortable but you chose to ignore it. You were becoming good at that—ignoring Tom.

You returned the smile at Nadine. You could feel the burning stares from your friends, mostly Maia. You cleared your throat and said, “I’ll just be in my room to finish the papers I need to send to my editor if you’ll excuse me.”

Before you left completely, you gave Nadine another smile and said, “It’s nice to meet you again, Nadine.��

You don’t remember how you got to your room but that was the least of your concern. You were just undeniably overwhelmed with what just happened that you didn’t even notice that there was a knock on your door.

When you opened the door, it was the last person you expected to see standing in your doorframe.

“Can we talk?” Tom asked in almost a whisper.

You gave him a half shrug and opened the door slightly wider for him.

“We’re okay, right?” He asked, looking at you in the eye.

At this point, you convinced yourself that you were numb. You never talked about the breakup. You never overtly said anything about what you felt. You felt empty. You convinced yourself that you were empty.

You stared back at Tom and without missing a beat, you replied “Of course. Why shouldn’t we?”

“Just admit that you two will miss me,” You teased, grabbing another box from Maia.

“Only if you admit that you’re moving out for an entirely different reason,” Maia whispered carefully as her eyes flickered towards Tom who was also helping with your move out.

You pressed your lips together and acted like he wasn’t even there. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said, you know, like a liar.

You weren’t a vocal person. The idea of talking about your feelings was really difficult for you so you try your best to avoid it. Actually, it’s worse than that. You’d go to extreme lengths to avoid confrontation.

Obviously, it wasn’t healthy. You would always distance yourself whenever you feel emotionally exhausted, and you really meant that distance. It wasn’t bad at first—maybe a day or two was all you needed before you felt comfortable enough to be around people again.

Then it became worse when you were in university. You were beyond unreachable. Aside from being emotionally exhausted, you were mentally drained too. You were always buried with papers and readings which was unavoidable but it took a huge toll on you. So whenever you get a chance to get a break, you completely shut off from people.

Your friends definitely noticed it and they tried their best to help.

Tom was among the people who definitely went out of their way to help you. He would always drop by at your dorm with food or coffee—he would literally just drop them off, most of the time. He would leave small notes that up to this day, you still kept and tucked away in a box.

Both Maia and Harrison followed Tom’s approach. They would all alternate on who’s dropping what and when. Some days, Maia would drop off a new skincare product she’s been using or a lovely box of macarons from your favourite patisserie.

On other days, Harrison would drop off some of his home-cooked meals or maybe a book he saw from a local bookstore—a book that reminded him of you.

Tom was very persistent though. He would sometimes wait out on the hall, just so he could see you and reassure himself (and your friends) that you were okay.

You found it taxing at first—you would often try your best to match the energy from your friends, which only left you exhausted at the end of the day. You wanted space and you clearly weren’t getting that from Tom. You did acknowledge that he only did it out of pure concern.

You often wondered why he did that, staying, but you didn’t ask him. You never did.

Maybe you were afraid that you’d come off as rude or that you’d seem ungrateful for dismissing someone when they’ve clearly taken the time off their day just to check on you.

However, every time you’d open that door, it always seemed that Tom would breathe a huge sigh of relief when you lock eyes. Even if it was just for a quick second. You wondered about that too.

Tom wasn’t really being intrusive. Most of the time, he will leave a few minutes after you’d open the door to get the things your friends would drop off. You’d always ask him if he wants to stay inside for a bit, but he’d always decline.

Except for that one time, though. That one time that you knew you were going to fall in love.

It was the week of midterms and deadlines. You were knee-deep with papers from different classes that demanded to be finished that week, one of which was a research paper that practically tied you to your laptop and made you consume an unhealthy amount of caffeine.

It wasn’t until 2 am when you were about to go on a quick drive to a McDonald’s but saw Tom dozed off in the hallway, his back pressed against the wall.

“Tom,” You shook him gently, trying not to startle him. “Tom, wake up.”

His eyes slowly fluttered open, seemingly disoriented at first but would soon fall into the warm familiarity that your face always brings.

“Why are you sleeping in the hall?” You asked quietly, careful not to make a fuss. The walls in your dorm were very thin and you learned that the hard way. You’d think they’d put a disclaimer about that in the lease when you’re housing a bunch of university students with raging sex drives.

It took Tom a minute to fully comprehend the question, seeing that the bright fluorescent light was being harsh on him and that he’s generally like that when being jolted awake.

“Oh, erm, I—” Tom was finding the right words to use. He can’t exactly exclaim ‘I’ve been worried sick about you!’ out of nowhere. Instead he said, “I was waiting for you to open the door, just to see if you’re alright.”

“All night?”

Tom scratched the back of his neck. “It seemed that way, yeah.” He muttered sheepishly.

You were dumbfounded. Surely this was the first time someone actually fell asleep outside your door, waiting for you to come out. It was sweet but highly unnecessary.

“I was just about to head out and get some McDonald’s, do you wanna come with?” You asked, giving him a hand to hoist himself up.

“I should get going—“

“Have you eaten yet?” You asked cutting him off, taking Tom by surprise. He shook his head no. “Then you should really come.” You said, jingling your car keys in front of him.

Tom was debating whether or not to go with you. It’s been a while since you hung out, but that was the same case for everyone. None of your friends have properly hung out with you ever since the semester started.

Tom should say yes, right?

“Let’s go, Tommy,” You said as you grabbed his hand and dragged him across the hall. “I’ve been staring at my laptop all day and I really need some unhealthy food to balance out the concerning amount of caffeine I’ve consumed.”

“Is that why you’re practically bouncing off the walls?” Tom asked amused, trying to keep up with your pace with your hand holding his.

“Totally,” You grinned at him. “I need to wear out the caffeine or else, I’d have to skip my morning class again.”

“French?”

You nodded. “They’re counting the amount of absences in that class and I really need to keep my shit together.”

“‘m not exactly sure why you took that as an elective,” Tom commented, properly wrapping his hand around yours with fingers interlacing each other.

You tried to ignore it, you really did, but the warm feeling that settled around your stomach drove you crazy.

“Why not? I think it’s cool to learn another language.” You nudged him playfully which he gladly returned.

“I know and trust me, I’m in awe that you’re learning another language! erm—I guess it’s just I feel like you’re overworking yourself too much.” Tom pointed out softly, hoping he didn’t come off as rude or intrusive.

“Eh, I don’t mind.” You replied “It’s what drives me to keep going and for me that’s more than enough. Even if it leaves me little to no sleep, even if it takes too much of my time—it’s enough reason for me to do it.”

Tom stared at you in admiration as soon as those words slipped out your mouth and you didn’t even notice it. You were walking towards the student parking lot, consumed by the twinkling lights from the neighbouring lanes near campus.

Maybe if you weren’t busy consuming the quiet campus grounds, you’d notice the very first time Tom fell in love with you.

“Besides, I know a phrase in french now.”

“Hm—and what’s that, then?”

“Je ne suis pas l’escargot”

“L’escargot? Isn’t that—“

“I am not a snail,” You giggled. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

Tom laughed, “I supposed so.”

Maybe if you weren’t so afraid of confrontation, you’d have an idea of when Tom knew that you were his person.

See, the thing is— you needed to face reality sooner or later and both your friends could see right through it.

“Honestly, Y/N, how on earth can your box of art materials be this heavy—” Tom appeared in front of the door frame, heaving as he carried the box from two flights of stairs.

You quickly averted your gaze from Maia, who was staring at you expectantly, and cleared your throat. “You can just set them by the door, Tom. I don’t know where to put them yet.” You said as you tried your best to act normal.

“You sure? They’re a tad heavy and I don’t want you to strain yourself.” Tom asked with furrowed brows.

All you could do was nod. The last thing you wanted was Tom’s focused attention on you.

“If you say so,” Tom sighed in defeat “I’m going to grab more boxes—Baby, you don’t have to carry that!” Tom was quick to disappear as he urgently dashed towards his girlfriend, Nadine.

“Oh, but I want to help, Tommy.” You heard Nadine say sweetly, assuming she was also pouting.

You could see Maia roll her eyes, urging you to give her a nudge and a taunting look. “Maia,” you called her out, silently pleading her to stop.

Maia settled down but she wasn’t exactly calm about it either. “I’m still not sure why she’s here.” She murmured. You and Harrison were close enough that you can hear her rambles—which was expected from her anyway.

Maia and Nadine go way back—like toddlers and playgrounds kind of way. Though that sounds figuratively adorable in a way, Maia and Nadine never got along.

Nadine used to date Maia’s brother, which already caused Maia a great demise. As one could expect, the relationship didn’t end well. She left him out of nowhere, saying she needs to find herself—or something along those lines.

A week after the breakup, what Nadine found was herself in the arms of another man. Of course, Maia’s brother was devastated—He truly loved Nadine. Maia had to be the pillar that her brother leaned on. It took Maia a great amount of time to help her brother pick up the pieces that Nadine left.

So yeah—Maia wasn’t thrilled when she heard that Tom was Nadine’s new boyfriend.

“She offered to help, Mai,” You whispered “Who am I to deny help?”

Maia looked at you as if you managed to empty your head while you were moving in between flats. “She’s been after me ever since we were kids. She’s also the reason why it took my brother months to get out of bed,” Maia deadpanned “and She’s Tom’s new girlfriend. Remember Tom? Your ex?” She said rather loudly.

You gave her a tiny pinch on her arm, causing her to yelp. “Maia, are you nuts?!”

Harrison left the two of you so he could grab more boxes, while you and Maia bickered silently amongst each other.

“You are thicker than I thought—Seriously, Y/N. Quit pinching me!” Maia aggressively rubbed her arm.

“They’re going to hear you!” You hissed. “The last thing I want is for those two to get involved.”

“Babe, they’re already involved. Tom, especially.” Maia remarked. “I see the way you look at Tom. I also see the pain you feel whenever he’s with she who must not be named.”

“I’m not doing this Maia,” you mumbled as you walked past her. Your objective was now to help Harrison with the remaining boxes. Your objective was anything but to talk about you and Tom.

“You have to face it sooner or later, Y/N.” Maia called out “I’m not leaving you or this apartment until you tell me what really happened.”

“What’s going on?” Harrison asked as he entered the apartment, carrying three sets of boxes. You grabbed one from him and actively avoided his question.

Before Maia could reply, Tom and Nadine appeared on the doorframe, with Nadine practically glued to Tom.

“Harrison got the last remaining boxes so we’re heading off now,” Tom announced as Nadine’s face painted with clear desperation to get out of your place. “Are we still going bowling tonight?” Tom asked before Nadine whispered something in Tom’s ear and left.

“I’m actually exhausted so I’ll pass,” You answered, obviously avoiding spending time with your ex and his current girlfriend. You’re not that pathetic.

“Same might actually have to just drink the night away,” Maia responded with a grin.

“Well, there’s no way I’m third-wheeling so I’m good,” Harrison said as he threw himself towards the plush teal couch that you snagged from a flea market.

For the tiniest second, Tom seemed disappointed but gave a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, maybe we can reschedule our bowling night, then?” He asked. “It’s not as fun to go bowling with just the two people.”

You, Harrison, and Maia all shared a look. You weren’t on board with bowling-night, to begin with, but you didn’t want Tom to feel as if you were avoiding him—which you were but no one needs to know that.

Maia looked at you, waiting for an answer because god knows she will solely depend on her decision based on yours. You don’t even have an answer, to begin with.

“What are you two supposed to do then?” Harrison asked Tom. Thank god for Harrison.

“I might take Nadine to this poetry jam event that she’s been dying to go to” Tom replied with a soft voice.

“A poetry night?” Maia almost wanted to laugh “You don’t even have the slightest interest in literature, Tom.” Maia didn’t mean to offend him or maybe she did? She wasn’t completely fond of Tom ever since you and Tom broke up—well, she wasn’t fond of the idea that Tom was dating her ‘arch nemesis’, but Tom was her friend and so were you.

“I know that, Mai.” Tom rolled his eyes “but Nadine likes it and I’ll do everything to make her happy.” That left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“If you say so,” Maia murmured before she took a quick look at you. She looked like she wants to give you the biggest hug. But you held a stoic look on your face—something that you picked up because you were afraid of confrontation.

“I’m serious,” Tom defended, lost in his feelings, which only irked Maia even more.

“I know, I heard you— we heard you,” Maia replied, her face showing only one emotion: annoyed. “God, read the room,” Maia grumbled to herself. Harrison had to reach for her hand, urging her to calm down.

“I really love her,” Tom whispered. That left a slap in the face.

It was a cold Saturday afternoon and it has been raining almost all day. It was one of the rare weekends that you weren’t really occupied to do anything other than to lay on your couch and consume a copious amount of entertainment.

Despite the spitting rain, you actually want to head out this time. Being confined to your desk and the university was torture especially since you couldn’t do anything about it—the four of you were graduating this year, no one could afford to slack off.

You and Tom were cuddled against the sofa— Tom was busy watching something on TV while you were busy scrolling on your phone.

“Hey, Tom?”

“Yes, my sweet girl?”

“Do you want to go downtown?” You asked, looking at your phone as you read the details of an event happening this weekend.

“Right now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “There’s a book fair being held at the local theatre.” You rested your chin on top of his chest and gave him a pout. You were getting sick of being cooped up between your study table and the library. This book fair was a change of scenery and it’s definitely right up your alley.

“But it’s raining, darling” Tom tried to say in the softest way possible. It’s not exactly up in Tom’s interests though.

“I know,” You sighed “I guess I’m just getting sick of this place.”

“You’re getting sick of me?” Tom asked with a huge pout. He was kidding of course.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of you, Tom.” You chuckled softly.

“Okay,” He hummed, pulling you closer to him—if that was even possible. “Then can we stay like this for a while?”

“Anything for you, angel.” You whispered as you closed the details about the local book fair. Maybe next time.

Soon after Tom left, Maia pulled you to her side and asked, “You okay, babe?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You feigned innocence. It was clear as day that you weren’t okay, your friends knew that.

Knowing that you weren’t going to budge, Maia walked towards the kitchen and brought out a bottle of wine from the fridge.

Harrison raised an eyebrow at her and asked, “When did you manage to put that in the fridge?” All of you had been occupied with grabbing boxes that there was no way that Maia had the time to put wine in the fridge, let alone obtain them from somewhere.

“It was supposed to be a celebratory drink for Y/N’s new place,” Maia replied as she set the wine and three various mugs on the coffee table. “Obviously, that’s not happening now.” Drinking wine using the oddly designed mugs you collected over the years was a cry for help.

“It’s 4 pm, Mai.” You pointed out as you stared at the white LED clock that you bought off Amazon—another impulse purchase enabled from scrolling on Pinterest for way too long. “We haven’t even had lunch yet.”

“Oh please,” Maia snorted “If there’s one thing that I’ve picked up from university, it’s drinking with little to no food consumption.”

“And if there’s one thing that I’ve picked up from university, it’s cancelling all of my plans for the entire day because I have to tend your hungover-self, Mai,” Harrison remarked as he grabbed the bottle and placed it back on the fridge. “I’m ordering food and no one’s drinking until everyone has finished a meal.”

You heard Maia mutter a string of curses but most especially the part that she said, “This is not the version of daddy that I envisioned Harrison to be.”

All of a sudden Maia’s idea of binge drinking doesn’t seem like a bad idea, you thought.

Turns out Harrison had no intention of letting any of you drink. He was pretty adamant about not having to babysit two drunk messes in one night.

“As if babysitting one isn’t enough,” You recalled Harrison say. He was obviously pertaining to Maia, in which she just huffed the entire time. You often wondered if Maia and Harrison noticed the obvious tension between them, because personally you found it endearing. It was no question that they were meant for each other.

“Y/N, you still haven’t told us whatever happened between you and Tom.” Maia suddenly pointed out. You, Maia, and Harrison were still in the living room, silently watching TV.

You were actively avoiding this conversation for the longest time as you haven’t told anyone about it, and based by the curious faces of your friends, you figured that Tom didn’t tell anyone about it either. You’re still not sure whether that’s a relief or not.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You mumbled. It’s not like you were lying, there really was barely anything to talk about. Heck—You and Tom never got to talk about it properly either.

“We see the way you look at him, Y/N.” Harrison replied softly. “I think there is something.”

“Look—” Maia sat up properly “I know you’re not really vocal about your feelings, but the fact that you’ve never talked nor showed any emotion about your breakup terrifies me, babe.” Maia’s tone was laced with concern.

“I remember the day you told us about it too,” Harrison couldn’t hide his concern too “We were having brunch together at our usual diner and half-way through our meal, you promptly said “We broke up” when Maia asked where Tom was,” Harrison recalled it like it was a fever dream. He and Maia had already expected that you weren’t going to tell them about the breakup when it just happened. However, it baffles them that it’s been over a year since you and Tom broke up, and not one word has been said about it.

It was silent for a while, except for Criminal Minds that was playing on the TV. You blankly stared at the screen, hoping that you’d catch whatever the agents were saying. It was impossible, especially when all your mind could focus on was the recollection of the day Tom knocked on your door at 1 am to breakup.

You were relatively busy that day from volunteer work, so you haven’t seen any of your friends the entire day—or Tom for that matter. Actually, you haven’t seen Tom in a few days. He would send texts periodically throughout the day but they were always short and most of the time, you always forget to reply.

You figured Tom was busy with his own thing and both of you established early on in your relationship that texting—or lack thereof— shouldn’t account to your relationship, especially since both of you are equally bad at it.

You didn’t think any of it since you were bound to see your boyfriend and your friends tomorrow for brunch anyway. He will have your undivided attention by then.

So imagine your surprise when you heard a soft knock from your door at 1 am, only to find Tom in disarray. His eyes were bloodshot red, tears falling down his face. His messy curls were masked under the hood from his jumper.

At first you were in panic, you thought that something terrible had happened to any of your friends—his family even.

But as soon as Tom dropped to his knees and whispered, “I’m sorry,” you had a clear idea what was bound to happen next.

It’s been silent for a while. The door was still open and Tom sat out in the hall with his back leaning against your wall. You did the same thing except you were on the other side of the wall that Tom was leaning on.

You two were close enough to the door frame that you could hear each other, actually facing each other was a whole other thing. Tears kept streaming down your face as you kept your eyes closed and rested your head against the wall.

At some point in your relationship, you prepared yourself in case this happened— that you would accept whatever happens between you and Tom. You didn’t exactly anticipate that it would happen so soon.

“Was there someone else?” You asked quietly. It was the first time you spoke after Tom dropped to his knees. You hoped there wasn’t. In fact, you silently begged to yourself that there wasn’t someone else, because you knew that you couldn’t handle that.

“No, no—of course not.” Tom immediately answers.”I could never do that to you.”

It was silent again. You were starting to feel numb—you tried your best to gather your thoughts and forced words out of your mouth, but you couldn’t.

“Are we not worth fighting anymore?” You practically whispered. It was a gamble— you weren’t exactly sure if Tom had heard it and you don’t have enough strength to ask it again.

“Y/N,” Tom sniffled. “You can’t say that.” He placed his hand on top of yours. You had your hand resting on the floor and you didn’t exactly notice that it served as an invitation for Tom hold it again.

You love Tom with all your heart. He kept dismissing it but Tom made you a better person. He made you feel like love can be expressed through different forms of things—not just words.

You loved him by exclusively making time for him. You went on museum dates where he would make cheesy remarks, saying that you’re the most remarkable piece of art in the entire place. You went on dates to watch football games—you never understood it but Tom was happy, so you were happy.

You loved him through your touch. You would often massage his back because he had been tirelessly working himself to the core. He didn’t ask for it but you knew it would make him feel better. Your touch didn’t have to be intimate—though you expressed it through that way too

You loved him through mindless actions. Almost every time you would stop by at the local cafe to grab yourself some coffee, you would always recite Tom’s favourite order on autopilot.

You loved him through silence. Study dates were gems for you. Even if you didn’t talk for the entirety of it and even if you were the only one who studied for the most part and Tom was just playing on his phone, having Tom beside you was enough.

You loved him so much that it pains you to think that maybe you weren’t enough for him.

“I don’t think I can fight for someone who doesn’t even want to,” You muttered bitterly. “Just answer the question, Tom.”

He didn’t answer. All you could hear were the silent sobs that you two were trying to hold back. At this point, you knew you wouldn’t look at Tom. Your heart wouldn’t take it—it will crush you.

“Are you not happy anymore?” Your voice cracked as you broke into a sob.

“Y/N—“ Tom squeezed your hand even more. You’re going to miss it, but you had to let go.

“Tom, if I’m standing in the way of your happiness then we should end this.” You cleared your throat and pulled your hand away. There’s a ghostly feeling that still lingered from Tom’s touch.

“Please, Y/N, let me explain—“

“It’s okay, Tom.” You whispered. “I understand.”

“You know I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Tom.”

“But—“

“But maybe it’s best if we end it, I know. I got it.” You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down from crying. “Maybe it’s better if we stayed as friends.” Maybe it’s better to realize that whatever you and Tom had were too good to be true—that your love will never compare to the love he deserves.

“Do you want the truth?” You asked your friends, with tears forming in your eyes. You can’t even decipher how they looked at you because of the tears clouding your vision.

Were they looking at you in pity? Empathy? Sadness?

“The truth is—I’m mad.” You gritted the words through your teeth. This was the first time your friends had seen you like this. All of the pent-up sadness, aggression, and hurt you felt was starting to get the best of you.

“I’m angry. I’m hurt.” You snarled, furiously wiping the tears from your face. “I’m angry at the fact that I can’t seem to be genuinely happy for Tom. I’m hurt at the idea he seems to be a better boyfriend for Nadine, that he constantly makes an effort for her.”

“I don’t even know if he even loved me the way that I loved him,” Your voice became quiet “and it’s selfish for me to think that way because I never fought for it—for us. That’s enough reason to keep me up at night.”

That’s enough reason for you to wonder if you’ll be capable of loving someone so deeply again.

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11 @tomshufflepuff @spider-babe @goodgirlgonetom @tabi-toast

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland angst #tom holland x you #tom holland x fem #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland blurb #tom holland and reader #tom holland and you #tom holland imagines #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au #tom holland and y/n #the girl writes i guess #txmhoellandwrites

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kagedaddy · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I'm not sure about your rules for asks, but I was wondering if you could do a 'prom-posal' thing for Akaashi, Noya, and Kageyama? Thank you!!

promposal - akaashi, kageyama & nishinoya

Warnings: none

akaashi keiji

kageyama tobio

nishinoya yuu [masterlist]

thank you for the request, is it prom season already? always such an exciting time and one of the best of high school. hehe

It was Prom season and everyone was busy, as seniors it was your class’s job to organise the whole event, that entailed getting the venue ready, the invitations that need to be sent a week before Prom, the stress of picking the right dress and the pressure of finding a date as a senior student you’d hope for Akaashi to be your date but every girl wants him, a girl can dream. Everyone was staying extra hours in school to complete the elements for the venue. “I’m so tired.”you friend groans beside you and you just laugh at her slumped form you had just finished the decorations for today and were heading to your lockers, “At least you know our Prom will look nice,”she nods her head feeling a little bit more motivated.

“(first name) look!”your eyes follow where your friend was pointing and to your surprise on your locker was a single (favourite flower) with a pristine white note attached to it.

You pick up the (favourite flower) and the note, a smile forms on your lips, this person knew that you liked (favourite flower) it was kinda sweet, examining the note for any signs of the sender but there was none, all that was written.

‘hey. i hope you liked the flower. if you want to find out who i am meet me at the courtyard.’

“It’s leading me to the courtyard, should I follow it?”you turn to your friend who had a wide grin on her lips eyebrows wiggling, “You know who set this up, don’t you?”she just smiles at you before bolting for the exit before yelling, “go find your mystery man, he’s been waiting for you!” You shake your head at your friend and begin your journey to the school’s courtyard and your heart was beating rather loudly in your chest, who’d be waiting at the courtyard for you?

Your eyes widen in surprise and your hands fly to your mouth as you gasp in disbelief, standing under the cherry blossoms, a bouquet of (favourite flower) in hand was Akaashi, fucking the gorgeous setter Akaashi Keiji. Oh my don’t tell me my mystery man is the all too talented setter, you walk up the path leading to him, “Akaashi?”his figure whirls to the direction of your voice, you shyly walk up to the male and such a pretty smile graces his lips. “Am I right to assume you’re my mystery man?”you raise an eyebrow, his gentle laugh makes your heart all warm and fuzzy that you have to hold in a squeal. “Surprise!”comes his sheepish grin and you’re swooning, his free hand tucks a stray strand behind your ear, “I’ve never asked anyone to Prom so please bear with me.”he clears his throat and cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink.

“(last name) would you do me the greatest honour of being my Prom date? There are thirteen (favourite flower) to represent the thriteen months I’ve waited to ask you.”his voice was soft and gentle, you felt yourself melt and cheeks burning in embarrassment, he waited that long to ask, you had not expected this. Akaashi Keiji of all people to ask you it was unreal, “Of course I’ll go to Prom with you!”you engulf the tall setter in your arms, Akaashi is taken a back but slowly moves to wrap his arms around you, pulling both your bodies closer.

“You’re quite the romantic Akaashi.”

“Uhh (friend name), will you go to prom with me?”

“Yes Jouji!”your friend throws her arms around the male and you smile at the scene, it was another successful promposal, Jouji-kun had asked you to help him set up his promposal for your friend, he enlisted your help because you were close to (your friend) and knew what she wanted. “I’m so happy (first name), thank you for helping him.”Your friend walks over to you bouquet in hand, you knew she was super happy, she would not shut up about the dream promposal she wanted and you were happy that you were able to let it play out.

“Nee (first name)-chan, do you think Kageyama will ask you to Prom?”your friend pulls her seat to sit across you opening up her bento box, “I don’t think so, it’s Inter-high season so they’ll be busy practicing.”you shrug your shoulders before taking a bite of your lunch, “you’ve been helping plan out everyone’s promposal don’t you want one?”you thought about her words, of course you wanted to get a promposal what girl wouldn’t want? But you had accepted the fact that your boyfriend wasn’t the type to do such sweet acts and he was busy with volleyball no way this would be in his mind. “I mean I want one but I’m fine not getting one! It’s fun to help out you know!”you answer truthfully but deep down it kinda hurt, seeing everyone get asked and helping plan out but it’s okay.

The rest of your afternoon classes flew by and it was time for dismissal, as you were packing up your things your friend hands you a stack of papers and you tilt your head in confusion. “Sensei wants you to bring this to the faculty.”a way too big smile sits on your friend’s face, you eye her suspiciously before brushing it off as happy remnants from her promposal. You accept the stack of papers and slung your bag over your shoulder. Heading for the faculty room, “Ah (last name), thank you for bringing them but I remember asking (your name) to do it.”your sensei thanks you in confusion, that bitch I knew something was up, she dumped her task on me. After biding your sensei goodbye you pull out your phone writing a long message to (your friend) before shaking your head and heading for the volleyball gym.

Your push the large grey doors open, “Sorry I’m la-“you cut yourself off noticing that the volleyball court was empty except for your overly awkward boyfriend who stood in the middle of court, hands behind his back and a nervous smile on his handsome face. You quirk an eyebrow at his odd behaviour but he shakes his head, before you could get a question out he beats you to it. “Uh (first name), can you bring me that ball.”his faces begins to flush red and his voice is not his usual stoic tone, you nod your head and picking up the blue and yellow Mikasa ball. Your boyfriend seems to stiffen more and it’s then you noticed the volleyball had words written across the material.

‘I set this up, it would be a nice kill if you were my date to Prom?’

You read over the writing again double checking if you weren’t imagining things, you look to your boyfriend and he held out a beautiful bouquet of (favourite flowers), you can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face. Clutching the ball and charging towards your very flushed partner. “Tobio, yes I’ll be your date!”you excited throw your arms around him, Kageyama sighs happily and returns your embrace, all of a sudden balloons are falling from ceiling surrounding the both of you it was kinda romantic. Confused you looked up to the balcony to find the members of the volleyball club and your friends fashioning bright smiles and teasing grins. “I knew it, you didn’t set this up yourself.”you tease your awkward boyfriend whose cheeks burn a bright red and you can’t help but swoon at the male, you were thrown for surprise but your were so happy he asked. You couldn’t love him more.

“But thank you for asking me.”

Your joruney to the club room was an eventful one, left, right and centre was filled with Promposals. Prom was rounding the corner and everyone was asking each other as their dates even some of your friends had been asked. You weren’t really fussed about the idea of Prom or getting a date for that matter, you were still excited for Prom it was an excuse to doll up with your girl friends and to drool over the nicely dressed men in your class.

Especially a certain libero.

Sliding the club doors open you plop yourself on your usual table, arms sprawled out on the table, “Oi (first name)-chan anyone asked you for Prom yet?”one of the editors in the club takes the seat beside you, “no, I don’t need a date.”you mindlessly scroll on your phone, social feed filling up with promposal posts, it was gonna be that way till the end of Prom season. “Ayy everyone says that but I’m sure you want one. I can be your date,”he teases you ruffling your hair in the process and you turn to him sticking your tongue out, playfully pushing the male and him retaliating. “Alright kids cut the games, (first name) I completely forgot you need to picture the men’s volleyball club for our big article.”you raise your head to face your club president.

“Awwe does it have to be me? I went last time tor the basketball club.”you pout from your slumped form, you were feeling extra lazy and weren’t in the mood for more promposal encounters. “Yes yes, Shuna is busy with another club so that leaves only you also isn’t Noya in the club why don’t you ask him to Prom.”your president crosses her arms and tries to narrow her eyes at you but you don’t miss the mischievous glint in her eyes, what was she up to?

“Now go!”

“Fine I’m on it!”you playfully salute your president and she just rolls her eyes at you, slinging the strap of camera over your head before waving one last time before turning the corridor towards volleyball gym. Standing infront of the doors it was odd to not here their shoes squeaking on the court but you guess it was because they’ll be taking photos. Slowly lifting your hand on the metal door your rack your knuckles before pushing the door open. The boys all jump in surprise and you looked at them oddly, “Hi, I’m (last name) (first name) from the school’s newspaper. I’m here to take your photos.”you bowed your head introducing yourself, their captain, Ennoshita welcomes you.

The boys seemed unlike themselves today, they seemed more jumpy than normal but you ignored it and thought they were just excited for the photos, your eyes find Nishinoya and boy did he look tasty in his uniform. The Captain moves the boys into their position and you take some candid photos of the club, capturing them as they are. “Alright, I think we’re good.”you nod your head before adjusting them slightly and positioning yourself at the perfect photo snapping distance.

“3, 2, 1”

Just as you snapped the was to be picture perfect photo the five tallest boys all of a sudden held out individual letters, putting the letters together it all clicked in your brain it spelled out.

‘P R O M ?’

“uh, (first name) will you rolling thunder with me all the way to Prom?”a red faced Nishinoya walks up to you, a large (favourite flower) bouquet on one hand and the other rubbing the back of his head nervously, you were taken a back cheeks just ablazed as his. “Yes I would like that.”as soon as the words left your lips the gyms erupts in cheers and Nishinoya jumps in excitement handing you the flowers and trapping you in an embrace. Your ears pick up the sounds of camera shutters and you turn to find the newspaper club members with a shit eating grin snapping photos of the promposal, all the more your face flushes and it dawned on you, they had set you up! But your attention turns back to the Libero, his handsome face adorned with the most cute smile and reddened cheeks, this beats all the promposal you’ve seen. a little bias, maybe.

“I’m so glad you said yes!”

hi hi! i love this really like this idea, it gives me the feels haha! i was only asked to prom once it wasn’t the most extravagant but i thought it was sweet. well hope you guys enjoyed it and gave you the warm feeling haha! leave a like and comment, have a great one! jaa mata!

the late valentines special will continue tomorrow. check out the other specials here [masterlist]

happy birthday akutagawa ryuunosuke 💕

my twitch

all the love xx

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definitelyseven · 4 years ago

Text

hurts so good | three

summary: growing up with Park Jinyoung was never easy and things are about to get worse when you’ve been asked to marry him

You woke up to the sound of your alarm and an empty bed next to you. You sighed - he didn’t come home at all last night.

“Good morning mom and dad,” you greeted Jinyoung’s parents. “Chae and Jae,” you continued to greet as you made your way to a seat at the table.

“Where’s Jinyoung?” his father asked.

"He left early for work,” you covered for him.

He scoffed loudly before throwing a stack of photos onto the dining table. You looked down and see pictures of Jinyoung and a woman. She was on his lap, leaning down towards his face. His hand was on her thigh. “Come up with a better excuse next time,” his father revealed. “Do a better job taking care of your husband so he doesn’t need to look for another women to please him.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“Being a Park women isn’t easy. You have to learn how to swallow your pride, when to speak up and when to shut up,” he lectured. “It’s your fault this happened.”

“I understand,” you said swallowing your tears.

“Fix it,” he demands before leaving the dinner table. Your mother-in-law gives your shoulder a light squeeze before leaving the table. There was nothing she could do but agree with her husband. Your father-in-law was right - being a Park women wasn’t easy. Look at your mother-in-law who had to share her husband with another woman and take in her son as her own.

“Could you get father’s medicine?” Jaebum asked Chaewon. She nods, leaving the table. You grabbed the photos in your hand, flipping through them. Each photo making your stomach churn. “Still think he’s worth defending?”

“Where did father get this?” you asked with tears in your eyes.

Jaebum sighed, “Sunrise Magazine.”

You were upset and mad. No matter how much he disliked you, never in a million years did you think he would actually cheat on you. You thought he would be faithful especially witnessing how his father treated his mother.

“I’m sorry Mr. Joo. She wouldn’t wait outside,” the editor-in-chief’s secretary explained. You ignored her, taking a seat in front of him.

“It’s okay,” he tells her before she closes the door. “How may I help you?”

“I’m Mrs. Park, the Marketing Director at Park Inc.,” you introduced, sliding your business card across the table. “If you don’t know, our company gives your magazine billions of dollars of business every year from advertisements alone.”

“Ah...yes. How can I help you, Mrs. Park?” he asked nervously.

“I’ll make this quick.” You tossed a photo of Jinyoung and that women on his table. “This is my husband and this photo came from someone in your office. If you want to continue to work with us, I better not see any of these photos leaked to the public,” you warned. “Or else you’ll be the one explaining to your boss why you lost the magazine’s biggest account.”

“Yes certainly,” he agreed immediately. “I will make sure this will never happen again.”

“If you or anyone in your office follows me and my family again. I will blame it on you,” you warned once again before getting up.

“Mrs. Park,” he called. “I can promise that no one from this office will bother you and your family again, but I must warn you of something.”

“What is it?”

“The women is this photo. She is one of our owner’s mistress. Even if this photo doesn’t leak to the public, I’m sure he’s already seen this.”

“And your boss is?”

“Mr. Choi.”

Mr. Choi was one of your father-in-law’s oldest friend. He is notorious for his four wives and his many affairs. He is also the biggest investor in Jinyoung’s new project. The women in the picture was one of his mistresses which makes this situation more complicated.

The car stopped at the red light and you quickly glanced outside. You shifted in your seat when you see a familiar face, Taeyong, your ex-boyfriend. Up until the day you agreed to marry Jinyoung, he was still your boyfriend. How do you tell the person you once loved that you will be marrying someone else instead of them?

“Wait,” you tell your driver as you stole another glance at your ex-lover. He was standing there alone, playing on his phone.

“Mrs. Park, the lights turned green.”

“Just one second,” you tell him. The sound of school bells caught you and your ex-lover’s attention. A bunch of little kids running outside the school. In particular, one little girl running straight to your ex-lover.

“Mrs. Park,” your driver called again.

“Okay, let’s go.”

You had to be calm, no matter how mad you were at Jinyoung. No matter what he did wrong, he was still your husband; still the man that save your father from his gambling debts.

He owned you.

“Someone might see us,” you hear whispers coming from inside Jinyoung’s office. “Not here,” the woman inside continued to whisper.

“I don’t care,” he tells her before the sound of her giggles filled the room. You shut your eyes and clenched your fist into a ball. You recognized that voice and it wasn’t the same woman in the picture. It was his secretary; Nayeon. Now you understood why she always acted weird with you.

You had choices - you could go in and expose him or you could pretend this didn’t happen. You could let it go and maybe, just maybe you’ll still have a chance with Jinyoung. You could let it go and he would still be your husband and you will still be Mrs. Park.

In this very moment, you chose to walk away and pretend nothing happened.

You walked away from Jinyoung’s office and headed for Jaebum’s. If anyone was going to help, it would be him.

“Come in,” Jaebum said from the other side of the room. He looked up at you as soon as you walked into his office. “You need something?”

“You knew who she was.”

“Do you still think Jinyoung’s worth defending?” he questioned again.

“You knew who she was and you didn’t say anything this morning,” you repeated.

“Does it matter? You know now.”

“I need your help, Jae.”

“No,” he refused immediately.

“Why? You didn’t even know what I was going to ask. Please,” you begged. He shook his head. “He’s your brother.”

“Has he ever treated me like his brother?” he asked through his teeth.

You let out a deep sigh. “Please,” you looked at him with tears in your eyes. “Save me from the humiliation. I don’t think I can take it,” you admitted honestly.

This time it was Jaebum’s turn to sigh. “You don’t deserve this, Y/N. You deserve better, so much better.”

“I know you’ve always cared for me like a sister-”

“You know I cared about you as more than a sister,” he admitted.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re both married. Chae’s pregnant. Jinyoung’s my husband.”

“The answer is still no. Last time I checked we were fighting to be the next Chairman. I think this would be my advantage,” he revealed.

“Jae...”

“What do you need from me?” he sighed in defeat.

“With your relationship with Uncle Choi, you can easily get me a meeting with him.”

“And what do you plan on doing once you meet him?”

“Leave the rest to me. Just don’t let Jinyoung know. He would be pissed if I meddled with his affairs,” you said before walking out of his office.

You and Jaebum sat patiently in the VIP room for Mr. Choi. He was 30 minutes late and you were getting anxious.

“Relax Y/N,” Jaebum tells you as you looked at your watch for the sixth time.

“I’d be more relax if Uncle Choi showed up on time.”

“He has a right to be late,” he reminded. Of course he did. Especially after Jinyoung fooled around with his woman.

Just as you were about to speak again, Mr. Choi walks in. “Uncle Choi,” the both of you called.

“I know why you’re here and I don’t care,” he says right away as he sat down across from you both.

“Uncle Choi, I know what Jinyoung did was wrong. We’re here to show you how sorry we are.”

“Sorry? Where is he then?” he scoffed. “He should be here apologizing if he was sorry.”

You smiled subtly, “Uncle Choi, you have four wives. I’m sure they’ll do exactly what I’m doing if you were in this situation.”

Mr. Choi chuckles, “If they were as forgiving as you, I wouldn’t have four wives.”

This time it was your turn to chuckle. “So what do you say Uncle Choi? What can we do to get you to forget about this? You can get any women you’d like - no need to ruin our relationship over one woman,” you pointed out.

“I don’t like to share,” he tells you.

“No need to share when there’s plenty to go around,” you smirked. You clapped your hands signaling the women outside to come in. “You can have anyone you’d like.”

Mr. Choi laughs out loud. “Y/N, I didn’t expect this from you. You must really love our Jinyoungie.” You smiled subtly again. “Our collaboration agreements, raise my share from 50% to 70%.”

“We can’t do that Uncle Choi,” Jaebum immediately shuts down.

“That is my offer if you want to keep working together - including Jinyoung’s new project,” he said firmly.

“We can agree to 70% -” Jaebum quickly turns to you, attempting to stop you from making any rash decisions. You grabbed Jaebum’s hand, giving it a small squeeze. You looked directly into his eyes - sending him a mental note to trust you. “We can agree to 70% but with conditions,” you requested. “We will stick with our agreed upon advertisements in your magazine as well as 10 billboards around your most popular locations in the mall; free of charge.”

“Fine. I always appreciate doing business with a beautiful lady,” he smirked. “Mistress #5 was supposed to be my lucky charm tonight. Why don’t you take her spot tonight?” he asked rhetorically as he hands you a red dress. You knew you couldn’t reject it. If you wanted him to forgive Jinyoung and accept your conditions, you had to do this. You had to be his lucky charm tonight.

“Y/N...” Jaebum whispers. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I’ve always been lucky,” you tell the both of them as you grabbed the red dress from him. The dress was tight and small. It was obvious what his intentions were tonight.

"My my my, Y/N. You look marvelous in that dress,” Mr. Choi smirked, licking his lips. Although you were disgusted by his words, you still had to fake a smile. “Look who I invited.”

You turned around to see Jinyoung standing there. Once he laid eyes on you and your short dress, his blood began to boil. “Jinyoung...” you called out.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked pissed off.

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littlefreya · 5 years ago

Text

Bourbon and Candy

Summary: After a frustrating day at work, August just wants to sit down and enjoy his princess, in any way possible.

Pairing: August Walker x OFC

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: Smutty Smut, Daddy Kink (alert!), stripping, oral sex on a man, possessiveness, sex, depiction of bodily fluids.

A/N: I saw this photo and was inspired to write about August watching his girl perform for him. Many thanks @agniavateira for being my editor and my muse 💕 Hope you’ll enjoy.

Title: Bourbon and Candy

The harsh CIA agent sits on the sofa wearing a strained look on his face. It has been a long, frustrating day at work and he hasn’t even had the chance to take off his suit. He stirs the bourbon in its lowball, watching the little vortex that forms in the agitated golden-brown liquid

And there she is, his little kitten. She sneaks into the great living room with the obvious intent to welcome him back. Wearing makeup like an actress from an old French movie, she dons a sheer pink babydoll dress over a luxurious lace lingerie set and golden high heeled shoes.

Diamonds sparkle on her skin as the sunlight kisses them through the open window. She never owned diamonds before, she’s not a materialistic girl, but August loves seeing her adorned with expensive necklaces and bracelets as if she is a doll to play with.

And his to covet.

With a sweet smile of her face, she begins to dance for him in slow, snake-like movements. Her hands caress her soft skin, twirling her long dark hair before she throws it back and lets it fall against her rounded ass.

August sips the bourbon and grits his teeth as the spiced liqueur hits the back of his throat. His eyes fix on the treasure, the way those slender hands run through her own body sinfully, approaching the mysteries that belong to him, where his big rough hands should be. He muses to himself; the only person allowed to touch her except for himself is her, and only when he permits it.

The first article of clothing, if you could call it that, falls from her body like a feather floating down the air. She kicks it away with her high heel and pushes her shoulders closer to squeeze her breasts against one another as they’re still locked inside that lacy Victoria Secret’s bra.

Also a present from her dear love. Cotton-candy pink, of course. He loves her sweet, the way she is.

The bulge in his trousers becomes overwhelmingly evident. She eyes it while letting the strap fall off from her shoulder, sucking her lips and putting a finger inside her mouth to let him know how badly she wants to taste his cock. August places the empty glass on the end table next to the sofa, the sound sharp against the surface. He places his knuckles against his mouth and ogles her with pure fascination while his other hand rubs at his erection to slightly ease the need.

She exposes her delicious breasts, hugging a hand over them while her bra slips between her fingers. A large smile slowly spreads on his face. He loves it when his kitten acts so innocent, it makes his cock twitch with double the excitement.

There is an ocean of admiration in his eyes for his little pet, his little piece of gold in a pile of coal that is this horrible world. In her, he sees all that’s pure and delicate in this world, the sweet among the bitter. He likes to pretend she was a virgin when he met her, even though she told him she wasn’t, never wanting to lie to a man like August. Yet he’d like to think he’s the only man who picked her ripe fruits and every time he fucks her, his dirty soul defiles her body and steals some of the purity in her soul.

At last, she reaches for her underwear. Her dance moves are stilled as she looks deeply into those beautiful malicious blues and allows the flimsy piece of lace fall from her thighs, exposing her silky smooth mound.

Just the way he likes it.

“Leave those on.” He commands, seeing as she means to take off her jewelry.

Ever so obedient, she nods and then sensually crouches on the floor, crawling naked on the carpet, hair thrown back and resting on her back.She moves to where he is seated with his legs spread conveniently to accept her while massaging the bulge in his groin.

He swallows the lump in his throat, watching his kitten give him that sweet naive look. She gazes at him with big eyes, adoring her master, greatly devoted to him. She presses her cheek against his thigh, humming gently as he entangles his fingers in her soft hair.

“My sweet girl,” he murmurs, tilting his head while looking at her dreamingly. Her creme-painted nails scratch at the hard bulge, tracing the metal of his belt buckle against her tips.

“May I, daddy?” She asks for permission and is granted a pleasant smile as his hand waves away from her head, allowing her space to work on freeing his painful cock from the captivity of his trousers. Her nimble fingers do quick work on his belt. The sound of leather slipping through the metal clasp makes her shiver and the rich juices that drip from between her legs are becoming a burden, but she is not allowed to touch herself yet.

It’s forbidden.

August growls as her hand sneaks into his trousers, her small digits taking him in her palm, appreciating how vast and beautiful he is. She shifts her thumb across the pulsating veins, trailing across the ridged surface until reaching the head of his cock where sheer precum drops greet her sight.

His groans are melody to her ears, music that makes her heart flutter and her core throb. She wants him to unload himself in her in any way he chooses.

Nothing in her body is scared anymore anyway, he made sure of it.

She lowers herself, breasts brushing against the soft material of his trousers as her tongue slips between her lips to taste him. Her velvet tongue swirls around the tip, eliciting the most pleasant groans from his beautiful lips. Carefully, he is taken into the warmth of her mouth while her gaze is fixed on his and his cock disappears between her succulent lips.

August throws his head back, relaxing as his kitten works her mouth up and down his big shaft. Her back arching, her ass sticking in the air behind her. An erotic view for him to feast upon with his ocean blues.

But it’s not enough. He needs more, he needs to be buried deep inside her lush walls, to have his anger surge through her body and cleanse his soul.

His fingers cup her chin, gently pausing her ministrations. There’s a slight worry in her eyes, afraid she might have wronged him in any way but the enamoured look in his eyes relaxes the surge of anxiety that runs through her heart.

He takes her hand and guides her to sit on top of him. Legs spread with knees to each side of his hips, she sinks herself onto his meaty erection, gasping as he spreads her walls inch by inch until he is sunken in her depth. Her ankles lift in the air, the heels of her shoes point upward as her head falls back.

“You’re so big!” She yelps, nearly powerless, feeling full with his cock reshaping her taut canal. The tightness of her cunt makes it impossible to move so she remains still, keeping him inside her abundant warmth.

He grips her ass, squeezing the flesh and guiding her, bouncing her on his cock while taking her breasts into his mouth. His teeth nip at the tender flesh and then licks at the hollows that his teeth created.

The thrill of the pain and the comfort that comes after makes her body comply with his invasion.,He leaves her no choice anyway, he will keep going even if it hurts, but he’d rather have her enjoy herself as well.

“Good,” he groans, watching her as she begins to ride him, swaying her hip and dancing on his cock, letting her clit grind against him with every shift she makes. He thrusts up to meet her pace, biting his teeth as he enjoys the desperate look on her beautiful face. She looks as if it hurts to have him in there yet the pain brings her so much pleasure. Her body wants to resist and take him at once whilst she is driven into madness by desire.

Fire begins to tingle in her core, increasing her pace. Something inside her breaks, and his little angel turns into a succubus in front of his very eyes. Her body is thrown back hanging in the air with only their sex keeping them together. Her hand grabs at his tie for support while she squirms onto his girth in an urgent rhythm.

He grunts, nearly choking as the noose tightens around his neck. It does nothing but make him harden even more inside her already too tight heat. Letting one hand glide at the small of her back, he holds her from falling and puts his right hand to his mouth, coating his fingers with his saliva before pressing them against her clit.

“Who does this pussy belong to, angel?” He asks, another guttural grunt escaping his lips as his kitten tightens around him while he manipulates her clit into submission.

“Yours, August!” She wails, feeling the warmth increasing, fury burning between her thighs.

“No,” he rasps, pressing harder against her clit. His cock swells inside her, his sack squeezing beneath her ass.

“Da...daddy!” she cries out, pulling back with all her might as the fire consumes her, making her melt with ecstasy with him hitting her cervix. He lets himself go right after her, coating her walls with his liquid and continuing to push into her until it drips between them, warm and smooth.

“I’m sorry, daddy…” she bites her knuckle, letting go of his tie and looking at the mess she made.

He gives her a smile, with his hand still on her back he pulls closer against him, laying soft butterfly kisses all over her face and then nuzzling her temple.

“Don’t worry, angel. Daddy’s not mad, not this time.”

___________________________________________________________

#August Walker #Smut: Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill #August Walker Smut #Fanfiction: August Walker #Smut: August Walker #August Walker Fanfiction #augustwalker #Smut #augustwalkersmut #henrycavill #henrycavillsmut #Mi6 #mission impossible fallout

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bagadew · 4 years ago

Text

The Great Ace Attorney Playthrough: The Adventure of the Great Departure (Part 3)

Last Time: We finally found Miss Brett, the English woman who’s present had been erased from the scene of the crime, and dragged her ass to court only to discover that she was a Massively Racist Bitch in a swan hat. After a lot of back and forth it became clear that Dr Watson Wilson actually died of poisoning, and that Miss Brett took advantage of the fact Japan currently doesn’t do autopsy reports to shoot his corpse in the chest and frame me (Ryunosuke) for the murder. Fortunately for us Hosonaga took the bottle from the crime scene, and after needlessly translating Miss Brett for the last hour (and presumably filtering out a lot of questionable content) was only to happy to produce it for the court. Unfortunately for us the poison wasn’t in the bottle, so it’s up to a lady in pink to save the day!

I’m going to roundhouse kick Auchi

I’m liking how everyone else in this room is just as done with Auchi as I am

Our saviour Ryunosuke, that’s who

Oh, that’s not a glass

Is it about poisons?

It is!

Ok so I’m pretty sure that Curare is incredibly powerful and fast acting poison (which lines up with what we know). Unfortunately I think it needs to be injected but I might be mixing it up with something else.

Susato’s actually given me the report now, which is probably a much more sensible way of getting information (rather than me trying to remember what I’ve picked up from Agatha Christie novels), and unfortunately it looks like I remembered correctly about it needing to be injected.

(Side note: how alarming is it that I’ve retained this much knowledge on poisons? I feel the need to explain that I’ve been reading and listening to audio dramatisation of Agatha Christie novels since I was about three, but I feel like that makes it worse)

What is curious though is it’s potential use as an anaesthetic. Given that Dr Wilson had just had a tooth removed with anaesthetic I wonder if there’s a connection there?

I’m not sure what it could be though, unless it turns out Miss Brett Weekend at Berniesed his corpse all the over way from the clinic.

GET HER ASS RYUNOSUKE!!!

Actually wait...

GET HER ASS JUDGE!!!

Auchi if we were to run this courtroom on things you know about we’d be running a kindergarten.

Auchi, you’d never even heard of Curare until I told you about it, be quiet while the grownups are talking.

Yeah, Curare is not a nice poison.

I’m not going to post the full explanation here, but wow, Kazuma’s really going all out with his description!

Also it looks like I misunderstood about it needing to be injected. Everyone’s saying that it can just be swallowed, which I guess that makes sense given how deadly it is.

Miss Brett’s being a bitch again (but what else is new) and Kazuma’s taking none of your shit and telling her that the feeling’s mutual. (Something I would have screenshot, but I was too busy calling Kazuma a legend to press the little square button.)

I knew it, it was only in the glass.

Yeah, now try it again from the glass you took.

Don’t worry Ryunosuke, I got this!

It’s ok Kazuma! Believe in me (Ryunosuke) and our beautiful friendship!

It astounds me too Kazuma, but for once I’m on to something!

Kazuma, please stop saying foreboding things, I need you to survive the next case and you’re already not being helped by the fact that you’re so much better than me. You’re so good you kind of render me, the protagonist, a little bit obsolete in fact.

PENALISED!

I guess I was wrong then! That bottle does somehow contain poison.

Yes Kuzuma, because I’m going to be penalised otherwise!

OH FUCK I’VE GOT IT!!!

I UNDERSTOOD CORRECTLY THE FIRST TIME!!!

IT DOES NEED TO BE PUT INTO THE BLOODSTREAM!!!

AND THE DOCTOR HAD A GAPING WOUND IN HIS MOUTH!!!

WHICH MISS JEZAILLE BRETT ADMITTED SHE KNEW ABOUT!!!

It’s finally time!

Let’s get her!

He’s got it!

GET HER ASS RYUNOSUKE!!!

She’s cracking!

Is it hatred Ryunosuke?

Ah no, my mistake - it’s lawyer rage conviction!

I know I’ve said this a lot but...

GET HER ASS RYUNOSUKE!!!!!!!!!!

HE DID THE THING!!!!!!!!

WE’RE USING HER OWN WORDS AGAINST HER

AND IT FEELS SO GOOD!

Oh good... she’s started laughing

Oh no. We’ve set things into motion haven’t we.

Kazuma, I can’t stress enough how important it is for you to take care of yourself in the case to come.

SHE’S DESTROYING THE EVIDENCE!

You can’t do that!

Oh who am I kidding, this lady’s been dancing on privilege since she walked in.

Oh Ryunosuke I think she might have done...

I knew she felt like an end of game villain!

Auchi’s about to catch these hands!

Kazuma’s telling us to step into our mind palace.

‘Is Kazuma right’, he thinks, as he remembers the blood on the plate.

I don’t know Ryunosuke? Is water wet?

You got it Kazuma!

I mean to be fair it did only just happen.

DID HE STEAL THE PLATE?!?

YES HOSONAGA!!!

YOU BEAUTIFUL GENIUS!!!

I do genuinely love these moments in Ace Attorney though. When everyone works as one to get some untouchable big fry. There’s something very rewarding about the whole thing.

Shit... she swapped it out...

Fortunately my man Hosonaga has everyone’s plates though!

Cheer up Ryunosuke, look, we have steak blood at least. And I’m sure Hosonaga’ll bring us the rest of the plates if we ask nicely. Especially after Miss Brett broke his bottle.

Miss Brett’s now making racist statements again.

But at least I’ve been given the steak to examine!

Bless you Kazuma

Ryunosuke what short of cats have you been looking at!

Get his ass (affectionately) Kazuma!

THE STOLEN COIN!!!

I KNEW SHE SWAPPED THEM!!!

(Also it looks like I was right about it being stolen by Nosa)

Didn’t know that was there, did you Miss Brett?

Now, dig your own grave with your words!

Now it’s time to dob Nosa in it. Sorry Nosa but you were kind of a jerk. Look on the bright side though, now’s your chance to redeem yourself in my eyes, like Hosonaga has!

Old man Korekuna’s armed and pissed!

Nosa I’m sorry. It’s best to throw yourself on his mercy now before I rile him up more. Use your baby to calm him if you must.

NICE CATCH NOSA!

I take everything back, Nosa your complete safe, old man Korekuna has no idea how to use that thing.

Ah, I forgot he was proficient in vase!

(Which I forgot to screenshot)

Never mind Nosa, you’re still screwed!

That is the right face to pull (Nosa not Hosonaga):

Look at him in the corner there. I feel bad now.

It was theft wasn’t it?

...oh Nosa what have you done?

(Kept food on his kids plate probably, given how he can’t afford childcare)

Nosa’s now accusing his infant son of being the mastermind... Sure Nosa, everyone’s bying that.

Either accusing a baby is a panic response, or I don’t need to feel so bad anymore.

Hosonaga how did you not immediately catch this guy?

HE SLIPPED THE COIN UNDER THE STEAK SO IT WOULDN’T BE FOUND WHEN HE WAS SEARCHED!

MISS BRETT’S TRYING TO WEASLE HER WAY OUT TO LUNCH AGAIN!

Oh thank god!

I thought for one terrible second we were letting her go.

(I’ve say it before and I’ll probably say it again, this is an intense first case)

Yes! ‘Her’ steak had a big bite mark in it!

But I thought and English Lady like yourself wouldn’t eat steak that way Miss Brett?

Of course, there’s a difference between the two photos.

I knew I could see the glass in the first one, which means it was taken before Miss Brett rearranged the table!

Oh, now Nosa’s saying that he switched the plates.

I must admit I didn’t expect that, I thought it was something Miss Brett did to remove the bloody evidence.

She’s cracking!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

YEEEEAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!

IT WAS ALIVE!!!

BABIES!!!

BABIES EVERYWHERE!

Oh god... what’s she planning.

Your honour, she’s already poisoned one person, do you want to be next?

Kiss my ass Miss Brett

Get used to it Auchi.

HAHA!

DAMN KAZUMA

(Editor Note: I am very upset by how poorly my screenshots conveyed Kazuma destroying Auchi’s hairdo with his sword)

Also, were you always hot Kazuma?

Wait no - I can’t be thinking that. The bar for fictional men I like is the floor and if I want Kazuma to continue to live a long, happy, non morally ambiguous life, I need him to not fall into the category of ‘fictional men I find hot’.

For some reason, I picture it being blue and spiky your honour

Wait what’s this about Kazuma having a mission?

Oh fucking hell, I’ve doomed you to moral ambiguity haven’t I Kazuma?

Thank you for the backhanded compliment your honour!

Ooh, petals rather than confetti, that’s a nice touch!

We did it!!!

And most importantly of all, we’re being praised by Kazuma!

Susato! Our saviour! Has turned up, along with her father: the innocent Professor Mikotoba, who I would like to thank and to reiterate that he could never kill anyone!

Seriously though, what was the relationship between him an Dr Wilson?

Ah ok, I simply just had to click on to find out.

So apparently the two of them worked together in the same hospital in London for a while.

OH MY GOD KAZUMA’S TAKING THE SWORD WITH HIM TO GREAT BRITAIN!!!

YES KAZUMA! F THEM UP!!!

(Also if your journey tragically ends in the customs office there’s a non-dead-Kazuma reason for me to go in your place.)

Oh fuck, she got off didn’t she...

I knew it

Of fucking course...

So basically she’s going to get off with a slap on the wrist. That’s what I’m getting from all of this.

Yep

Ah, but what you’ve failed to understand Kazuma is that the British Government and 99% of those people in power, are hypocritical dirtbags who will change the rules to suit them.

OK TEAM LETS GO GET HER ASS!!!

FINAL BOSS! FINAL BOSS!

Now on to the party with Kazuma!

And also Hosonaga apparently. Who is clinging onto his waiter job even though the case he was investigating is solved. Look like Ryunosuke was right about money being tight.

Hosonaga, do you not have a job anymore?

Were your superiors upset when you said ‘fuck the government’ and bought Miss Brett to us? Or was it your one man forensics team shtick that upsets them?

Oh yeah, we never did find that out did we?

Kazuma Asogi I forbid you from charging me with looking after your sister, of for that matter anything, incase something happens to you!

Fortunatly for us Hosonaga is here! Diving in-front of that Kazuma shaped plot bullet with promises of food!

Ryunosuke over here, taking the cases final moments to roast Hosonaga.

I think we’re even now Satoru, my second favorite character.

I don’t want to click to the next text box.

OH FUCK!

Oh wait, false alarm everyone!

I genuinely thought that the case was going to end with something like: but little did I realize that he never would.

Anyway that’s enough worrying about Kazuma! For now let’s enjoy the fact we’ve finished this bastard hard first case!

We’re moving on to Episode 2: The Adventure of the Unbreakable Speckled Band next!

#tgaa spoilers #tgaa #the great ace attorney #the adventure of the great departure #ryunosuke naruhodo #kazuma asougi #satoru hosonaga #jezaille brett #susato mikotoba #yuujin mikotoba

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