#still gotta fiddle with both their designs i think but the them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ariadne-does-her-best · 3 years ago

Text

Sparks Dancing Across Your Skin

Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot; Soulmate!Au

Word Count: 5,000+

Warnings: Mentions of death, gets very angsty but ends with a happy ending :)

Author's Note: Hey guys! I just wanted to let you know that I’m trying to post once every two weeks on Sunday but its very difficult for me right now. I just started college this week so I haven't been very active on any of my socials because of my orientation schedule. Originally, this was going to be around the same length as the Dick one-shot but when I finished writing it, it didn’t feel complete so I may go back and turn this into a series. I’m not very satisfied with this but I did want to try and post regularly. Please let me know how you like this and if you would be willing to read a series with a similar plot. Thank you, Ariadne.

Summary: As someone with a busy schedule, you never really thought of who could be your soulmate. Rather you didn’t have the time. But lucky for you, it’s your friend. Unluckily for you, he’s a vigilante and you don’t even know his secret identity.

You sighed as you packed up your belongings. You never meant to stay late but here you were, sitting in Mrs. Jones’s classroom, and if the clock was correct, Mrs. Jones herself had left more than two hours ago.

The class committee meetings weren’t supposed to take so long but that was only if the president, vice president, and secretary were all sharing the workload. As president, you had to pick up all of the slack that your friends left you. But you didn’t mind since you understood that they also have a life outside of school.

As you left the classroom, you made sure the door was locked on the inside before checking your phone. You only had one text and it was from your mother, telling you that she had to jet over to Paris to meet with an investor and that your father had gone to South Korea to look at some sort of textile for her. She ended the text by saying that she loves you and that she’ll try to be back in a week.

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket, turning the corner of the hallway towards the main entrance. You had parked your car in the back of the parking lot, something that you had started to regret once you saw how deserted the school really was. Remembering the fact that most people were kidnapped in parking lots, albeit grocery store parking lots, they were still parking lots at the end of the day. You sped up when you saw your car and yanked the door open before locking it after sitting inside. When you turned around to put your seatbelt on, you let out a scream when you saw that someone was in your backseat.

“Calm down, it's just me,” the boy said in the back, his red domino mask doing nothing to mask the laughter threatening to spill out of his mouth.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the boy who was laying on your backseat. Robin was organizing the items in your car, putting them into two piles. You watched him as he pulled out a piece of gum and popped a bubble. You smiled as you shook your head before coughing as you turned your car on, effectively grabbing his attention.

“You wanna go to the diner and tell me why you’re not with the Bat tonight?”

At that he pursed his lips, a small smile threatening to spill over.

“I dunno if I should…”

“I’ll pay.”

“Deal.”

*****

When you had first met Robin, it was after he had tried to help you escape from a mugger. Instead of cowering like he had expected you to, you had just grabbed the man's arm, twisting it as far back as you could without breaking it, and kicked him down. Robin had swooped down, laughing as he handcuffed the man and complimented you on your punch. You both were waiting for the GCPD when your stomach grumbled and you offered to treat him to some waffles at the diner across the street since it had started snowing. After that, you both kept meeting up frequently at night, him on patrol and you going home after finishing whatever official school-related event you had.

And soon enough, those nights all added up to you and Robin meeting up frequently to eat at the same diner from the first time you had met. You liked your friendship with Robin. Even though you had no idea who he was under the mask, you felt comfortable with him, like he was your rock to help keep you grounded.

As you sat there and watched him fiddle with the menu, you resisted the urge to grab his hands and instead looked down at your own hands. You started picking at the skin on one of your still healing scabs from where a cat from the animal shelter you volunteered at had scratched you.

“You should stop that,” Robin was looking at you, his bottom lip stuck out slightly in what you recognized as worry.

“You’re my distraction,” you waved your hand at him, “so go on, distract me.”

“What do you want me to talk about,” he asked as he leaned back, letting Linda, the waitress, put your regular orders down on the table. After a chorus of ‘thank you’s, you sipped your hot chocolate and contemplated on what to ask him. There was so much you didn’t know about Robin, such as his identity, but you didn’t want to scare him away.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”.

“Maybe a librarian,” he said after a long pause. You smiled at that and started stuffing your face with your hashbrowns, watching as Robin finished chewing his food.

“What about you, what do you want to be?”

You sat there, thinking. You never really knew what you wanted to be. Every year, you would have a new dream job but it never felt right to you. You just shrugged before turning the topic to books and different book recommendations, watching his eyes light up at the mention of literature.

“You should read Le Petit Prince,” you said as you both stood outside on the chilly November night. You had talked about different works by Shakespeare and had only started heading outside once Linda told you that it was ten. It was snowing slightly and Robin looked breathtaking with the white snow in his dark hair, his red mask creating a sharp contrast against the fairness of his skin.

“Only if you read it to me,” he said before grappling to the top of the veterinarian's office near the diner. You slowly walked to your car and turned it on. Robin was still sitting on the top of the building and as you pulled out of the parking lot, you waved goodbye to him before heading home, rolling your eyes with a smile when you realized that he was following you by running across the roofs of the buildings.

*****

“Hello, I’m (Y/N) (L/N), your tutor here at the Student Center. And you are?”

“Jason Todd,” the boy said, nodding at you as he pulled out his chair and sat down. You smiled at him and wrote his name down on the form you were given. You asked him basic questions about his grade, what class the assignment he wanted to go over was from, and what his reason was for visiting the center.

“All right, so it looks like Mr. Mijia wanted you to come in here and just have someone review your essay for you. Is he doing the extra credit padding before final exams again?”

Jason nodded his head and you marked the according box.

“Alright, the first thing I’m going to have you do is pull up an electronic copy and pass the hard copy to me. Then we’ll have you read it aloud so we can catch any grammatical errors.”

Jason nodded again before clearing his throat and reading his paper off of his screen, stumbling over the wording of his essay only twice. You were impressed, his style of writing was advanced, with him connecting his ideas throughout the whole essay.

“As time progresses, it is imperative to look--”

“Hey bestie,” you sighed when you heard the grating voice of Elsie Lager. You gave Jason an apologetic look before forcing a smile on your face as you faced Elsie.

“Hi Els, what are you doing here,” you asked, taking note of the way her eyes flitted over Jason, before landing on you.

“I’m just here to give you these,” she said, holding out a thick manilla folder. “Mrs. Jones said that we have to read through all of these proposals for the Spring Fling and Jackson and I thought that you could do it since you are the president. And because your mom is the famous torchbearer in today’s fashion world. It’ll just be soooo easy for you.”

You resisted the urge to smack Elsie with the manilla folder, aware of the fact that if you did that there was a witness, and instead took it from her hands before flipping through it. Great, there were over fifty concepts and designs to choose from. Taking out your planner, you wrote down ‘choose Spring Fling concept’ between your Taekwondo lesson and your animal fashion show at the shelter.

“I have that down, anything else I can do for you Elsie,” you asked with a strained smile. The brunette stood there, twisting a piece of hair around her pointer finger before smacking her forehead.

“OMG, I totally forgot! Callisto Barsotti told me that you should keep your ears open for an invite to one of his parties. I’ve gotta go now but you just have to tell me how you got Callisto to notice you, you lucky bitch.”

You watched as Elsie left the library, blowing a kiss towards you, in a blur of white. Sighing, you turned back around to Jason.

“I’m so sorry about the interruption. Why don’t you continue reading from where you were interrupted.”

“She’s a bitch,” Jason said. Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as he leaned towards you, resting his face on his hand. “Why are you friends with people that take advantage of you like that?”

You sucked in your breath, keeping your face impassive as you stared down at him.

“You have no idea what my life is like Jason Todd,” you said evenly, setting the manilla folder to the side. “And because you don’t know me, why don’t we talk about something we do have some knowledge about: your essay.”

Jason just sighed before he started packing his items up, tugging the hard copy of his essay out from under your hands.

“You and I both know that I don’t need help with my essay. But if you ever need help, let me know,” and with a familiar wave, he left you sitting in the library, confused about how you had gotten his attention when you both weren’t even in the same grade.

*****

You scanned the room as you tugged your jacket around you. You normally didn’t attend parties, especially those that you knew involved alcohol, but your mother had pushed you to go after being nagged by Elsie’s mother by her daughter’s lack of invitation. And speaking of Elsie, she had left you alone as soon as she had entered the house. Which sucked since she had insisted on driving in her new Mercedes.

As you walked around the living room, making small talk with the people who greeted you, you couldn’t help but think about what Jason Todd had told you. It frustrated you that he took up so much space in your head, that he was all that you could think of since that day in the library.

He didn’t know anything about your life. While he had grown up on the streets, you had grown up with a silver spoon in your mouth, never having to worry about anything.

‘But you do worry,’ the small voice in your head said, sounding very similar to Robin. You needed a drink.

You were searching the coolers for a bottle of water when a heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders causing you to flinch and elbow them in the stomach.

“Ow, what was that for,” the person asked, slurring their words slightly. You looked up and sighed when you saw it was the host of the party, Callisto Barsotti. He smiled at you and rubbed at his stomach before holding his arms out, “I’ll let you go if you give me a hug,” he said, enunciating his words with grabby motions.

Normally, you would be on your best behavior, helping whoever was drunk by getting them water and calling their friends, but you were pissed. You didn’t want to be at this party, instead, your mother had forced you to go after Mrs. Lager had bitched to your mom about her precious Elsie not being invited. And to make matters worse, you were tired. So tired.

You were tired of your mother, for filling up your schedule with things you had no interest in, such as modeling gigs and piano lessons. Your father for never being there. Elsie for complaining to her mom and Callisto for inviting you to his stupid party. Jason Todd for being in your head for over a month. Robin for not reaching out in weeks. But mostly at yourself. You were upset at yourself for quietly taking all of this and then loading yourself up with more so you could be the perfect doll for your mother to brag about raising.

So when Callisto tried to grab you and hug you, you kneed him in the groin before deciding to walk home. Ignoring his cries and the looks you got from others at the party, you ran out of the house, only pausing to take a breath once you exited the gated property. You didn’t know where you wanted to go so you let your legs decide on what direction to walk.

Walking around anywhere in the middle of the night was not a great idea. But walking around Gotham in the middle of the night was one of the worst ideas anyone could have. Looking back at it, your night could have gotten worse, like you being kidnapped by a c-grade villain or something.

Instead, you ended up running into Robin. He didn’t look surprised to see you and instead gave you a small smile.

“So, do you wanna go to the diner,” he asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No,” you snapped, “Leave me the fuck alone birdbrain.” You pushed past him, a look of surprise etched on his face.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

You ignored his calls and instead sped up, aware of the fact that he was catching up to you. At this point, you were walking near the actual city parts of Gotham so maybe you could get a cab to drop you off at your mother’s apartment near the business sector.

At that thought, you broke into a run, sprinting down the street before calling a cab, hyper-aware of the fact that Robin was staring at you with a look of hurt and confusion on his face.

*****

You felt bad for how you treated Robin. He didn’t deserve your cold shoulder and you certainly didn’t deserve him. With his witty jokes and the way he always followed you to make sure you got home alright, you had realized yesterday in the cab, watching the red and yellow of his costume jump by on the roof, that you didn’t deserve him.

You threw yourself back into your different activities and soon, you didn’t even have enough time to even think about what you were going to eat for dinner.

As you exited the school building, you walked slowly towards your car, being careful not to slip on the ice on the ground as you rounded the corner.

But you felt someone grab your wrist, making you scream and fall. The person cursed as they tried to pull you up but you slid as far away as you could from them so you could see their face. It was Callisto Barsotti.

“What the fuck,” you yelled, trying to yank your wrist out of his iron-like grip. When that didn’t work you got ready to elbow him but he twisted your other arm behind you, causing you to scream.

“Not today you bastard,” he growled as he started to drag you. You screamed and tugged against him, and when he turned towards you, you stopped pulling against him and stomped on his foot, making sure to drag your snow boots against the skin on his shin.

Callisto let out a cry of pain and you pushed him away from you, letting yourself fall to the ground out of shock.

“You little gremlin,” Callisto stuttered out as he started limping towards you. You panicked as you tried to find something heavy to hit him with. A rock or anything would do. But you couldn’t find anything so you got up on trembling legs to run towards your car.

But you didn’t have to worry as a figure in red and yellow dropped by and wacked Callisto in the back of the head. Your eyes widened as Robin took this moment to start kicking the fallen boy. You don’t know how long you stared at him, but you snapped out of your daze once you started hearing cracking noises.

“Stop! Robin, please stop,” you cried desperately. But he didn’t stop, he continued to beat Callisto.

“Please stop,” you cried, whimpering as you knelt down near Robin. When he didn’t listen to you again, you leaned forward and grabbed his face, turning it towards you. You were going to tell him to stop again but you then felt a warm sensation, different from the coldness from the March air, followed by the feeling of a shock. Your soulmate, Robin was your soulmate.

He stared at you in shock, allowing you to pull him off of Callisto. You pushed him towards your car, and he stumbled since he was still staring at you as a look of understanding passed on his face.

“Look,” you said, inspecting the blood on Robin’s costume, “you need to listen to what I’m going to say carefully. Go to my car and grab the cleaning wipes from the trunk. Clean yourself off as I call the cops. The story is going to be that you were patrolling the area and heard my screams.”

Robin stared at you, mouth slightly open as he reached to touch you with a bare hand. You let his fingers ghost against your skin, the shock from before still present as you pulled back to stare at him.

“Go.”

*****

It's been over five hours since Robin beat Callisto. Not half to death like you had expected but still pretty bad since he had a broken nose, arm, and bruised ribs. As you waited in the police station for your parents to pick you up (“The gang that you described could always come back for you,” the officer had said), you could only think about how scary it was, watching Robin hit someone so many times with so much anger in him. In the end, your parents didn’t come and instead, your older brother had driven all the way from Metropolis to pick you up.

You both didn’t talk to each other during the ride back to your house but you could tell he was worried by the way his eyes would flicker to you. When you reached the gates to your house, your brother had parked the car and turned to look at you.

‘(Y/N), I have no idea what's going on with you right now but if you ever feel overwhelmed or alone, just tell me and I’ll take you with me back to Gran’s in Metropolis.”

You smiled at him, eyes tired but filled with a small spark as you exited his car, making sure to express your thanks with a kiss on his cheek. As you entered your house, you took off your shoes and slipped on your home slippers before going to your room and taking a shower. Drying your hair, you walked towards your windows to close your curtains, letting out a slight scream when you saw a hand pressed against the glass.

You sighed when you saw it was Robin and opened your window, letting him come inside to your room. He looked around your room, studying the many medals and certificates you had accumulated from the years along with the magazines you had in your room, before turning towards you.

“Hey,” you said, walking to him slowly. Robin licked his lips slightly as he stared at you before coughing.

“Can I please touch you,” he asked, his voice breaking slightly. You nodded and watched as he took off his right glove before caressing your cheek with his hand. You watched as he smiled when he felt the same spark from before, a breathless laugh escaping his lips as he took off his left glove so he could hold you with both hands. You shivered as his thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, eyes closing before snapping open when you couldn’t feel the warmth from Robin’s hands.

“Don’t freak out,” he whispered in your ear, “I’m just going to close the window and then dry your hair for you. Just go and sit down and I’ll be right there.”

You nodded and sat down at the chair in front of your vanity, watching as he closed your window and pulled the curtains before grabbing your towel. You smiled as you watched him in the mirror, massaging your head with your hands before wrapping your towel around your scalp.

“How come you never asked me what my name was,” Robin asked as he brushed through your hair.

“You’ll tell me when the time is right.”

*****

“I should’ve asked him what his name was,” you thought as you walked near an alley, waiting for a sign of Batman so you could ask him what happened to your soulmate.

A couple of months had passed since you had last seen Robin in April. He had looked angry when you both had met up at the diner and he had further worried you when he ignored the ringing of his phone. As soon as he had seen that you were tucked into bed, he had given you a peck on the forehead before leaving through your window.

You were worried for him. Dressing up as a traffic light every night was dangerous, no matter how much you loved going out there and beating up criminals. So you had been following Batman for months, trying to find a moment to ask him what happened to your soulmate. But you never had the opportunity since he always managed to lose you by either disappearing or by just leading you into a dead end.

Months of following Batman has helped you as you were now familiar with the rooftops of Gotham, like the roof of the veterinarian’s office near the diner you and Robin used to meet up at. Sitting with binoculars, you let out a small gasp when you saw a familiar flash of red and yellow, watching as it ran across a rooftop. Scrambling, you started following the figure, zigzagging around multiple large gaps that you couldn’t jump before cursing when you realized that he was gone.

“Why are you following me,” an unfamiliar voice asked behind you. You turned around and assessed the boy, taking note of the fact that he was taller than your Robin and didn’t seem to have the same half-smile-half-smirk that he did. But the only way to confirm, for your brain to tell your heart to stop searching would be direct contact.

“I can’t find someone,” you started, voice shaky as your eyes filled with tears. The boy’s mouth twisted in a slight frown but he still let you continue.

“I just need to check that you’re not my Robin. Please, let me just hold your hand briefly or something. I just need to know.”

At this point, you were crying. When he hadn’t returned the next day, you had started to panic, wondering if he had really left you and gone somewhere else. But that night, you had started out of your bed, wondering what had woken you up when you felt a hollowness inside of you.

The boy patted your shoulder sympathetically before offering his hand to you. Sniffling, you pulled his glove down slightly so his wrist was showing and touched it.

There were no sparks, no warmth, as you collapsed on the rooftop and cried.

Your Robin was no more.

*****

You smiled as you entered the diner, waving at Linda before taking the booth that you and Robin used to eat at. Six years had passed since you had learned that he was no more and even though it was hard most of the time, you always moved forward. You had graduated high school and gone forward to become a librarian, your choice mostly influenced by your late soulmate.

As you waited for Linda to bring out your regular order, you looked around the diner, recognizing everyone except for a man wearing a red sweatshirt. He was staring down at his phone but was now looking up at you when he felt your stare. You flushed slightly and gave him a wave before looking out of the window.

When Linda came out with your packed regular, you left after giving her a large tip. You had to go back to work.

*****

When Jason came back to life, he knew something was wrong.

After finding out that you were his soulmate, he felt this familiar warmth inside of him, similar to the feeling from when Bruce had first made him Robin. But after the pit, that feeling was multiplied tenfold, to the point that it felt like he was being burned from the inside out. And then the random sparks started.

The first time was when he was with Talia. It had been months since she had started training him, helping him remember a bit of who he was beforehand. When she grabbed his wrist, he felt a spark. It wasn’t the same familiar, welcomed spark with you but it was still a spark. He had brushed it off as static electricity, especially since Talia didn’t seem to have noticed.

But the sparks continued. He felt it frequently when people would hold him, touch him, brush against him. It was an annoyance at that point. A reminder that something was wrong with him, especially since he knew that you were his soulmate and that the others seemed to have not noticed the sparks.

So when Jason saw you walking home one night, he couldn’t help but follow you to make sure you got back safe, just like in the old days. Except for the fact that it’s not like the old days and he was malfunctioning. He was too scared to meet you; he was terrified of the idea that he might touch you and that there would be no spark anymore.

Jason had decided to only follow you home and keep you safe from the shadows, to never interact with you directly. So why exactly was he bleeding on your couch?

He watched as you helped him out of his leather jacket, eyes following your movements to the best of his abilities. He then watched as you pulled out a pair of scissors and started cutting the area he was shot.

Your eyebrows were furrowed and Jason couldn’t help but want to reach out and smooth them. Instead, he settled for helping you by peeling the square of his cut shirt away as you prepared the gauze to apply pressure.

His head was spinning and his breathing sounded labored even to his own ears but Jason didn’t want to take off his helmet in fear that you would recognize him from the red domino. But you seemed to have other plans as you reached your hands towards his head, still applying pressure to his wound with your knee.

He tried to avoid your hands but it was difficult to do when his head started to spin. He just watched as your hands reached out towards his helmet and opened it.

A small, selfish part of him wanted you to pull off the helmet and accept him, regardless of whether or not the spark was still there. But from the two years that he had known you, he knew that you’d accept him as Robin, but he wasn’t sure that you’d accept him as Red Hood.

Jason watched as your eyes widened at the sight of his red domino but you didn’t go as far as to peel it off. Instead, you turned your attention back to his wound, gathering more gauze to apply pressure.

As he lost consciousness, he watched as your concerned face entered his vision. And then he felt the fated spark, and all he could think about was how right it felt.

*****

When Jason woke up, he was surprised. By multiple things. For one, you hadn’t called the cops on him. The second thing being the fact that he was, in fact, fine and not dead: he had checked by pinching himself. The third was that his domino was still on his face. And the last being that he could hear your voice clearly, it was distinct, like music against his ears.

He listened as you spoke, not understanding what you were saying but knowing that you were reading Le Petit Prince. After all, one of the first things he did after coming back from the pit was listening to the audiobook, imagining what you would sound like.

He heard the page flip and decided that now would be a good time to open his eyes and sit up.

His sudden movement startled you. You both stared at each other before Jason croaked out a ‘hi’. He watched as your eyes filled with tears as you hugged Jason gently like he was the most delicate, expensive thing in the world.

“I missed you (Y/N),” Jason whispered against your shoulder, feeling the tears form in his eyes as he pulled back.

Your eyes flitted down to his wound with a concerned look but he tilted your head up, towards his face as he pulled the domino off.

He saw a look of recognition in your eyes, knowing for sure that they recognized him when you whispered ‘Jason Todd.’

He nodded, watching as you slowly extended your hands towards his face, caressing it as you skimmed your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I’m a terrible person,” Jason whispered, looking down into his lap. You simply lifted his face, shaking your head.

“You’re not a terrible person Jason. You were a hero back when you were Robin and you’re a hero as the Red Hood. You’ve always been one. Now lie back down before you pull your stitches and tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Jason smiled as he laid his head across your lap, smiling as the sparks now seemed to dance across his skin in joy, happy that he was finally home.

#robin #red hood #robin jason #robin jason todd #jason todd #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #dc imagine #dc imagines #ariadne writes #ariadne does her best to write

122 notes · View notes

mikkomacko · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet As Honey 18

Hello everyone! Here she is! Thank you all so much for being so patient with me and this chapter. I hope it lives up to the hype and the wait lol. I'd also like to say that I will still be writing and finishing this series as well as my other in progress ones. However, I'm currently feeling like I'm not that interested in Harry right now and I feel like it's mostly all the drama and everything going on with him right now so updates will be slow. Also I've changed my theme to a Marvel x One Direction theme because I've decided to take one of my Bucky Barnes plot and actually publish it. I'll still post Harry because of course I love him but he won't be the main focus of this blog anymore.

Thanks for waiting and reading. Hope you enjoy the chapter! X

Harry's good under pressure. At least looking from the outside in, he is. It's a skills he's picked up from boxing. Always pretend you know what's going on. No surprises, no shocks. If he's in a fight and his opponent is stronger or faster than he originally thought, he doesn't show it. Acting like it was expected, like he planned it rattles others and helps him maintain his grace.

He keeps that same approach when it comes to interviews.

Liam meets him outside the gym, waving with a bright smile that Harry just smiles at, shocked to find his trainer in the parking garage rather than the ring.

"What's going on mate?" Harry greets, trying to step around him to get to the stairs but Liam halts him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Gotta reporter here who wants to chat with you about recovering from your concussion and reaching the finals."

His tone is laced with hesitance, lips pursed in suppressed grimace and Harry doesn't blame him. Liam knows how much Harry hates interviews. They're his least favorite part of the job. He's here to box and get paid, to provide for his family, not to tell the world every detail of his life.

"Oh," Harry mumbles, shrugging and stepping up to the door. "Alright. Only for a few minutes though, wanna get home a little early today."

If Liam is surprised by Harry's ease he doesn't show it. "Got something going on?"

Harry follows Liam inside, nodding to Mark at the front desk. "Y/n has just been exhausted lately and Arlo can't spend a second alone without screaming bloody murder. Just want to be there to make sure she's resting and Arlo's not being a pest."

"He's your son, of course he's being in a pest."

The comment leaves too much pride in Harry's chest for him to even care that Liam just insisted he himself is a pest. Besides, Harry knows he's clingy and a little too attached but that's just how his relationship with y/n is, and they love it.

In his private locker room,Harry finds the reporter, a young girl who can't be too far out of undergrad with dark hair and a bright red lips. She's sat on the bench, a notepad on her thigh and her phone resting next to it.

"Hello Mr. Styles." She greets, shaking his hand when he approaches her. "I'm Rebecca Weese."

Harry takes a seat next to her, nodding. "Nice to meet you. I don't have a lot of time today but I can answer a few of your questions if we can make it quick." He smiles guiltily, hoping to not come off as rude.

She nods, immediately glancing down at her notepad and crossing some things out. Harry assumes they're questions she's decided aren't important enough. "Is it ok if I record this? Just sound of course."

Again, he nods, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie as he waits for her to begin. Tapping at her phone, she places it between them to catch both voices and then scans her notes again.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but you've only been boxing for a few years, right?"

Harry shrugs. "I trained a lot when I was teenager, worked under Ted until he decided to bring me up to the pros. Was about 20 I think when that happened." He tries to stay vague, knowing he can't tell the public that his "training" was an illegal boxing ring.

"Five-Six years is a short amount of time to be included in a tournament like this one. Most contenders are well into their careers before being qualified to participate. What do you think has been the main factor in your success?"

Routine question, and he's got a routine answer. "I was fortunate enough to figure out early on that boxing is what I wanted to do and I think that helped out a lot. I also got a very good team behind me. My trainer, manager, my wife, they're all the main factors in my success. I'm very grateful to have them."

Rebecca smiles a bit, jotting down a few words. "Does your wife work in the industry?"

It's her casual tone, as if she were a friend just wanting to hear him brag about his lover that has him answering so honestly.

"No she works in design but I met her early in my career and she's always supported me. Takes care of me after bad matches and whatnot, always comes to my fights even if it means being on her feet for hours. Which isn't exactly her favorite thing at the moment with the baby-"

Harry stops, eyes widening a bit at what he's just revealed. Part of him wishes desperately that Rebecca didn't hear him but he knows that's impossible.

"I didn't know you're a father," she says kindly, sensing his panic. "Do you want to talk about it more or should I scratch that part?"

He doesn't know what makes him say it. A year ago he'd have fled the room if he were questioned about his family. Harry likes to keep them separate, to keep his kids away from his boxing. It's possibly a small part of him that's conditioned to keep his work a secret from his family even if he doesn't have to. But Rebecca's offer to drop the whole topic is what breaks him.

"S'ok," he says "I've got a son that's about a year old and another on the way."

Her eyes light up, beaming at him and he grins shyly but somehow proudly at the same time. "That's awesome. Congrats. I know your son's young but does he have any part in your career? Influence maybe?"

"He doesn't watch any of my fights or anything. Too young to be around violence like that but he does affect my fighting in a way. I used to go into boxing with just the mentality that I'm doing something I love, but now I've got the added success. A win means more support for my family and I want them to always have what they need so I've got sort of an edge there."

"Like having something to fight for?" She confirms, and Harry nods immediately.

"Yeah. I'd do anything for them and I think that makes me a bit dangerous in the ring."

No matter what, he'll always be fighting for them. Everything he does is for y/n and his boys.

The house smalls of tomato sauce and pasta when Harry walks in, mouth instantly watering and stomach rumbling. He had a light breakfast this morning before going to the gym and now that's he burnt off all that energy he reckons he could eat a horse. Dropping his keys on the table in the entryway, toeing off his sneakers, and dropping his gym bag to the floor, Harry makes a beeline for the kitchen. He's so caught up in wanting to eat he doesn't notice the TV playing a Disney movie or the two figures sprawled out on the couch until one of them is calling for him.

"Daddy!" Arlo's head pops up over the cushions, dimples sunk into his cheeks and eyes bright. Harry immediately changes course, coming up behind the couch and meeting Arlo's outstretched arms.

"'Ello bug," Harry greets, smacking a kiss to his cheek. Arlo coos happily, curling up against Harry's shoulder. Y/n is watching them with a small smile, a hand resting easily over the stretched fabric of his tee-shirt she's wearing. "And hello darling." He leans over the back of the couch to press a crooked kiss to her lips.

"Hi baby," she sits up, smiling dreamily at him. "How was the gym?"

Harry shrugs, adjusting Arlo on his hip. "Was good. I had an interview today about finals and....stuff." Her eyebrow quirks up at his hesitancy to continue.

"What stuff?"

Gnawing on his bottom lip, Harry drops his gaze to Arlo. "You, Arlo, the baby." She doesn't respond immediately and he knows it’s because she’s trying to analyze him. He's fairly private about his family, especially his children and the only reason he'd informed the world of Arlo was to get people off his back about leaving y/n, so he knows she's probably confused by his ease with talking about the new baby.

"How'd it go?" She asks, pushing herself up from the couch with a hand on her belly. Without hesitation Harry reaches out to place his free hand over hers, moving her with him towards the kitchen. "Where are we going?"

"M'starving darling," he says and his stomach grumbles in agreement, making Arlo gurgling back and nudge his foot into Harry's tummy. "But interview went well. Announced the pregnancy."

"You did?" She questions, perching herself on the counter stool with wide eyes. "Seems a bit early compared to Arlo's announcement."

Managing as best he can with one free hand, Harry retrieves a bowl from the cabinet and serves himself a heaping mountain of spaghetti. "Just came out if m'being honest," he shrugs, settling into the stool next to her with Arlo still glued to his lap. "'sides it's different this time. He was my first baby and I was scared."

He doesn't realize that she's fallen silent until he's slurping back noodles and she doesn't scold him. Curiously, Harry rotates just enough to look at her. Y/n is staring at him, eyes big and moony when he mumbles a suspicious "wha'?"

"You were scared?"

Swallowing down his food, he nods. Her intent gaze brings a blush to his cheeks and he has to drop his eyes to peer down at Arlo. "Y-yeah. Didn't know if he'd like me as his dad, ya know?"

Harry's never said those words out loud, now that he's come to think of it. Whenever something's pertained to Arlo, Harry was always the positive reinforcement, the one reassuring y/n about them stepping into parenthood. He never really told her how much it scared him because he didn't want to scare her.

"I-I didn't know that," she mumbles. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He shrugs, lifting his gaze from Arlo to y/n. "Because I wanted to be a good dad. Ya know, like the kind that can kill spiders and scare aware bad dreams.....Just wanted to be strong I guess."

He doesn't say it, but he knows she's picked up the fear he won't acknowledge. He doesn't want to be his dad. His father was great but the sad thing is, everything great about him was brought out by alcohol. Des needed that poison to combat his own fears and insecurities, and Harry doesn't want to be like that too. He doesn't want to leave his kids the same way he was left.

"Being scared doesn't make you weak Harry."

She leans over to press a tender kiss to his jaw, belly brushing against his side, and he thinks about those words for the remainder of the day.

Crouched down, Harry steers the shopping cart with one hand and guides Arlo along with the other one. By the way he's trudging along, Harry knows Arlo is getting tired of walking. It's good for him to practice though, so Harry leads him along for another few minutes before scooping him up in one arm.

"Did so well bug." Harry compliments, pecking Arlo's cheek. The toddler curls up into his chest, yawning. It's a bit difficult steering the cart with one hand but Harry manages, steadily making his way up and down each aisle. He gets baby cereal for Arlo, a couple bags of puffy hot Cheetos to stash in the cabinets, and he's stocking up on y/n's latest craving (spaghetti-o's and meatballs) when a familiar face rounds the corner.

Zayn is pushing a cart filled groceries, eyes scanning up and down the shelves and Harry curses under his breath. The last person he wants to see right now is Zayn. Last time they had a run in he said something that bothered y/n and Harry never wants anything to bother his girl.

In an attempt to hide, Harry pulls his hood up over his head, shrinking into his pullover and craning his neck to not make eye contact with his old friend. Grabbing a few cans of the fake pasta y/n is living off of, Harry sets them in the cart and quickly walks down the aisle. A man who looks a few years older than Harry moves towards him, stepping around Zayn and in front of Harry's cart.

"Excuse me," the man stops him, gaze dropping to the boy against his chest for half a second before regretfully meeting Harry's eyes. "m'so sorry to bother, didn't notice the little one-"

"It's fine." Harry cuts off, glancing at Zayn to make sure his back is still to them. It is and Harry relaxes a bit at that, but his curiosity grows. "How can I help you sir?"

The man smiles, grateful. "I just wanted to tell you that m'son and I are big fans and we're excited for your fight this weekend."

Harry knows he has fans, he's run into a few around the city but they're usually teens and kids that want an autograph. He's never had a grown man approach him about his career and it's odd. Flattering, but odd.

"Thanks man. I really appreciate your support." Harry says sincerely, smiling. The man nods in response, taking a step away from Harry. He moves to leave but stops last minute, turning back to Harry.

"Congrats on the baby news too." He says quickly, almost shy or embarrassed. Before Harry can even thank him, the man is rushing out a "have a good day" and then he's moving down the aisle.

Confused, Harry stands there for a moment trying to figure out what happened. He knew announcing the new baby would bring more attention to him in the media and he's not surprised that that man, who's clearly a fan, had already heard it. He is surprised that the man seemed almost scared to admit to Harry that he knows.

"Harry?"

Fuck.

He looks up, meeting the golden eyes that could only belong to Zayn. Harry doesn't even bother trying to smile at his old friend as he stands in front of Harry's cart. A lady maneuvers around them, murmuring a soft "excuse me sir." Harry scoots his cart over, smiling apologetically.

"How have you been man?"

Harry's gaze returns to it's impassive expression, glancing over Zayn's too-bright presence. "I've been good." Harry responds, moving Arlo to his other arm when he starts to lose feeling in his fingers. The movement draws Arlo out of his nap-like state, the toddler now noticing Zayn standing in front of them. Immediately his face scrunches into a look of annoyance.

If Zayn notices, he must not care because he smiles at Arlo, teeth dazzling. "That's good to hear. Congratulations on the baby, by the way! Saw the article up front. S'amazing!"

Article? Harry lips are just starting to form his question when his phone rings, the tune specific to y/n. "Sorry, gotta take this." Harry says in Zayn's direction, digging into his pocket and retrieving his phone. He hits answer before Zayn can even respond.

"Hi darling."

Harry wiggles Arlo into the basket. "Hi H. You still at the store?"

He pushes the cart down the aisle, not caring that he's left his old friend hanging. "Yeah I am. What's up"

The sound of a running faucet comes through the speaker. "Forgot to add yogurt bites to the list. Arlo ate the last of 'em last night and ya know how he is if he doesn't have any before bed."

Harry snorts, steering towards the baby food aisle. Arlo has fallen in love with yogurt bites and they've become his snack before bed. Harry thinks he shouldn't be having them every night and he'd tried to tell Arlo that two nights ago, but Arlo is a stubborn thing. He screamed his head off, ignored Harry's attempts at giving him fresh fruit instead, and then only calmed down after y/n nursed him.

"I'll grab 'em darling. No worries." He assures, tossing a couple bags of the bites into the cart. "Anything else?"

"Do we still have the old flower vases from our wedding in the garage?" She asks.

"Umm, I think so. You expecting flowers from a secret lover or something?" Harry jokes, eyes catching on a pack of bibs hanging in the aisle.

"Not unless you've got a trick up your sleeve Styles." She retorts.

He tosses a pack into the basket. "Buy you a whole flower shop if that's what ya want darling." Arlo grumbles from the baby seat of the cart, tiny fingers coming up to play with the rings on Harry's fingers that are locked around the steering bar.

"Don't worry about that, we've got enough flowers." Y/n laughs and he can hear her moving around the house. "Three bouquets just arrived with congratulations cards."

"What?"

"Guess the baby announcement was well accepted." She says. "We're getting lots of flowers for it."

Pushing towards the checkout, Harry frowns in confusion. "Got stopped by a fan today for the same thing. Can't believe it's such a big deal."

"Well you're more known now than when we were having Arlo." She reasons, and Harry hums his agreement. He passes the self checkouts, freezing when he spots numerous copies of his face on the ends of the aisle.

"Holy shit," he breathes, not even thinking about the innocent ears before him. Y/n gasps through the phone, scolding him for his language. "Sorry darling, s'just I'm bloody plastered all over the grocery store."

He reads over the cover of the sports magazine. It's got a big photo of him in the ring, gloves held up to his chin and jaw tight around his mouth guard. Next to it is a photo of him and y/n leaving a big fight awhile back. She's got her head down, hand snug in his as he leads her along. And written in bold yellows is "Harry Styles Expecting Baby #2 As He Prepares for Biggest Fight Yet!"

"They put me on the front page." He tells her, not bothering to flip open the article before he's quickly moving away from the display. "Why would they do that?"

When he did that interview, he thought it'd be a small, breezy section in the magazine. If he had known he'd be getting stopped in the grocery store and flowers sent to his house he wouldn't have said anything. As previously mentioned, he's a private guy, so having this detail projected in a way he wasn't warned about makes his stomach twist uncomfortably.

"It's alright Harry," y/n says reassuringly, knowing that he's become anxious at the publicity. "No harm done. It's just flowers bub and as long as we've got those vases in the garage, everyone will survive."

He chuckle weakly at her joke, picking an aisle so he can quickly checkout and go home. "Don't go digging around for them by yourself, don't need ya falling and getting hurt. I'll help ya when I get home."

"Aw my hero." She coos, and he knows she's teasing but it still makes him blush. God he loves her.

"Those bloody things are making my nose itch." Harry grumbles, aggressively rubbing the palm of his hand into his burning nostrils. He glares at the bouquet of peonies on the dresser, a gift from y/n's co-workers, and moves towards the bed.

Y/n is propped up against the headboard, a pair of his pajama bottoms on her legs but her shirt has been abandoned on the carpet by the bed. Arlo is attached to her hip, mouth latched to her nipple and she's stroking through his soft hair while he breastfeeds. Harry's heart throbs in his chest, warmed by the sight of his wife coddling their baby, and he's so fucking in love with her he's anxious to get Arlo into bed so he can have his way with her.

"I can't just throw them out, H." She sighs, pulling her gaze from the television to his pouty face. He huffs, running the damp towel in his hand through his hair one last time before haphazardly tossing it towards the closet. Kneeing his way up the bed, he curls into y/n's side and smiles when she tucks her arm around him.

"Stroke my hair too?" He mumbles, peering up with puppy eyes and she giggles before threading her fingers through his hair too. Arlo gurgles around a mouthful, bright green eyes opening to look at Harry. He worries for a moment that Arlo is going to get fussy and kick him away, but the toddler just blinks at him sleepily.

"Tha's ma boy." He coos fondly, squirming a hand over to pat Arlo's full tummy. Y/n giggles and continues to stroke his hair, Harry watching Arlo slowly be soothed to sleep. "Lemme get him to bed darling."

Grunting, he pushes himself up from the mattress and too his feet. Y/n transfers Arlo to his awaiting arms, swiping at the milk that dribbled out of his snoring lips and onto her skin. Harry leans down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Wanna have a shag when I get back?"

A shocked laugh bursts out of her, Harry's face lighting up at the sound as his heart swells. He was trying to be a bit silly, not enough to have her eyes crinkling like that, but he's happy she finds him funny.

"Sure baby." She breathes, still grinning. His stomach flutters, excitement bubbling in his belly and he nods quickly before moving across the room.

Arlo stays cuddled into Harry's neck as he flicks on the nightlight in the nursery and adjusts the blankets in the crib. Theo watched Harry from his bed in the corner, sleepy puppy eyes following his every move. He lays Arlo down, gently shushing him when he store and tucks Bunny into his side. With a peck to his head and a quiet "good night bug," Harry partially shuts the bedroom door and rushes back into the bedroom.

Y/n has already kicked off her bottoms, leaving her naked on their sheets and Harry groans as he works to catch up with her. His shirt is playfully tossed at y/n's grinning face, Harry laughing as he wiggles out of his sweats. Naked as the day he was born, Harry jumps onto his knees at the bottom of the bed.

A laugh bubbles out of y/n when the whole bed shakes under his weight, clearly amused at how excited he is. She must be just as excited though because she quickly leans forward to cup his face, attaching their lips and bringing him back down to the pillows with her.

"Wanna be on top," he mutters into her mouth, ghosting his hand down her tummy and tickling his thumb over her clit. "f'that's ok?"

"Mmm," she hums, happily "too tired to top anyway."

Harry seals their lips together again, using his knees to spread her thighs a bit further apart for him. Her palms smooth down his sides and around to his back, a breathy moan interrupting their kiss courtesy of his fingers. Harry utilizes the chance to break away and snag a pillow from his side of the bed, urging her hips up by tapping the fluffy thing against her side. She lifts, and he settles it under her lower back and bum to prop her up. Luckily for him, he's had a lot of practice getting around a baby bump for a shag.

Settling between her thighs, Harry giggles when she wraps her legs around his hips and tugs him closer. His body hovers over hers, love-sick smiles a breath away from meeting each other, and he drags his fingers through her folds, groaning at how slick she's become.

"Don't even have to try anymore do I?" He teases with a wolfish smile, capturing her lips just as she rolls her eyes. Giggling, he leaves soft kisses across her cheek, heading towards the base of her jaw.

"S'the baby's fault honestly." She argues, her fingers disappearing into the damp locks sticking to the back of his neck.

He hums, smirking against her skin. "Is it?"

With a small tug she's pulling him back up to her mouth. "Yeah. Gets me revved up all the bloody time. I don't know what you're putting in there mister but it's exhausting."

Harry laughs quietly, nipping at her bottom lip. "Don't worry baby, I'm gonna take care of ya. S'my problem after all, isn't it?"

Y/n nods, biting back a grin as Harry grips his cock with the fingers that had previously been fondling her. Chest to chest, Harry smiles at the feeling of their stomachs pressed together as he guides the head of him into her slit.

The sigh that puffs out of her chest sends a zip of pleasure up his spine, as if she'd been partial without him and the pure relief of just having him in her is all she could ever want. Harry hums appreciatively, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in how warm and gooey she is for him. He'd almost forgotten how it felt to have her this desperate for him and his touch.

"Oh it's so good darling," he mumbles to her, dropping his head into the crook of her neck. He pulls his hips back, breath stuttering when he easily slips forward again.

Y/n moans softly, dropping one hand to the small of his back as if guiding him. "So so good H." She confirms in a whisper, her voice tickling his ear and he squirms with a small laugh at the sensation.

Harry's soft with his movements, cautious of the baby between them and the one sleeping down the hall. Even the kisses he places on her jaw and lips are tender, small brushes between their confirmations that he "feels so good" inside her and she was "made for being wrapped me huh?" And Harry thinks nothing ever been truer. Her arms were made to hold him, her hands were made for pulling him closer and closer, and her heart was made to completely consume his.

Y/n reaches her high before him, rolling her hips up to try and quicken his but he maintains his sensual thrusts, stroking her temple as she trembles and gasps, clinging to him in every way possible. There's something about how quick she falls apart for him when she's pregnant and how utterly earth shattering it is for her, that it completely obliterates any sense of stamina Harry's ever had. He couldn't care less when he follows shortly after, grinding down into her heat as his cock twitches and buries deep in her walls. She's the one stroking his temple this time, and he knows she's watching his eyes scrunch shut and his gaping mouth curl into a breathy laugh as he comes.

Maybe it's the lingering anxiety that washed over him at the grocery store, but when y/n kisses him and gently nudges him off of her so she can go pee, Harry's desperate as he grips her hand and pouts, practically begging when he asks "can I get back in ya after? Just to fall asleep darling?"

Of course she nods, brushing sweaty curls from his forehead to soothe him and just like that he already feels lighter. He never has to sorry with her, because they were made for loving each other.

"Oh fuck!"

"Would you stop being so loud! It's 8 in the morning!"

"Can't help it, darling."

Harry tightens his hold around y/n's thighs, dipping his tongue back into her slit and groaning loudly despite the warning she's already given him this morning. She tugs on his hair scoldingly, drawing a pained hiss out of him. Harry brings his teeth up to her clit, nibbling in retaliation. A pained hiss of her own leaves her lips, cut off by a soft moan as he soothes his tongue over the spot.

Grinding her hips up into his mouth, Harry can't help but push his own into the mattress and a deep groan escapes him as he does so. Huffing, y/n scolds him again for being too loud when they've got a sleeping child one room over.

"Stop yelling at me so I can make you cum." He purrs, lips brushing over her clit. Their eyes meet over the curves and dips of her body, Harry smirking when she raises a prodding eyebrow at him. He kisses her thigh just once, lapping his tongue through her slit and he's just reaching her most sensitive spot when the beginning stirs of Arlo waking up break through the baby monitor.

Simultaneous groans leave both their mouths, this time of frustration. Harry pouts, knocking his forehead on y/n's hip bone and shaking his head.

"I told you Styles." Y/n teases, stroking through his hair for a second. He can't even think of a rebuttal before Arlo is calling out softly for her, and she's pushing up from the bed to get dressed.

"Take care of that while I take care of this." She calls as she disappears through the door, snickering softly and leaving him there desperate for her. But then again, when is he not desperate for her?

Hey man, hope I'm not being a bother. I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for a drink Friday or something?

-Z

Harry stares at the message, wondering why Zayn would sign it when the Instagram handle is clearly him. He also wonders why the hell Zayn is trying to hang out with him now.

It's a sunny day, the air outside relatively warm for March so Harry slipped a sweater on Arlo and brought him out to the backyard to play. They're sat in the grass, Arlo between his legs as they teach Theo to play fetch. Arlo's gotten good at tossing the chew toy himself, so Harry used the free time to start clearing out the congratulations messages he's received on Instagram.

"What's the matter H?"

Harry locks his phone, tilting his head up and squinting into the sun as y/n stands over them. She's got a bowl of puffy hot Cheetos in her hand, cradling them as if they were a precious gem as she settles into the grass with them.

"Nothing," he mumbles, pecking her temple when she leans into his side. "just got a weird text from Zayn. He wants to hang out."

Crunching through a chip, she hums. "Did you know he lives here?"

She lifts up a Cheeto, offering it to him. Harry gladly takes it between his teeth, pulling it from her fingertips and crunching down on the puffy chip. Swallowing, he shakes his head.

"Ran into him at the store once around Valentine's Day," she says, eyes watching Arlo dig his stubby fingers into the dry grass. "Was trying to talk to me about you I think but your son threw a fit and I was too busy to care honestly."

"Really?" Harry asks, perking up at the idea of Arlo throwing a tantrum to keep people away from y/n. That's the only time he'll agree with such actions. "Taught him well then haven't I?"

Rolling her eyes, she elbows him. "If you're son grows up to be rude I'm going to kick your ass Harry Styles."

Laughing, he steals a chip from her, locking his phone and dropping it to the grass. Arlo, interested in the device, crawls over to pick it up.

"Wouldn't expect anything less darling." He says, reaching over to swipe his phone to the camera so Arlo can snap random pictures.

"What are you going to do about Zayn then?"

"Suppose I should see what he wants, yeah?"

Y/n shrugs but Harry can read the look on her face easily. She's always silently encouraged him to face things that need mending or fixing, and his past with Zayn is one of those things.

"S'done then," he laughs, pinching her side affectionately. "I'll figure out why he's so obsessed with me."

She laughs, throwing her head back and scrunching her nose in the way makes him want to stare at her forever. "Think it's that one he's obsessed with. Look how cute he is."

Harry follows her line of sight, smile growing at the sight of Arlo making faces at himself in Harry's camera.

So bloody cute.

"Are we gonna be besties? I think we're gonna be besties." Niall states, swinging an arm around y/n's shoulders. He's on his third beer of the night already and Harry hasn't even made it to the ring yet. Y/n just laughs, continuing to maneuver tape around Harry's fingers but he's not as kind.

Casting a glare at the Irish man, Harry calls out to Gemma. "Get your leprechaun off of my girl before I use him to warm up."

Niall isn't really phased by the words, only pouting softly at Harry's steel gaze but Gemma is quick to rush over and pull Niall up from the couch by his hand.

"Come on babe, let's go find our seats." She coos to him, sending Harry an apologetic smile. He waits for her and Niall to turn their backs before chuckling softly. Y/n pinches at his wrist.

"Be nice to Niall. I really like him."

"Oh you really like him, huh?" Harry huffs, nudging his knee against hers. She rolls her eyes, giggling when he slips his free hand around her waist and pulls her into his lap. "Please tell me how much you really like Niall darling." He requests, shoving his face in her neck and playfully biting at her throat and shoulder. Just as he'd expected, she giggles and squirms, Harry having to wrap her up in a bear hug to keep her from sliding right off his thigh.

"Harry! Stop!"

He laughs with her, moving up to bite at the apples of her cheeks and her nose, growling as if he were a rabid beast. His freshly taped knuckles ache under the tightness of the wrap as he grips her flailing legs but he ignores it in favor of listening to her laugh.

"I like you more! I swear!" She shouts between laughs, wiggling a hand free and gripping the back of his neck. Pleased with her words, Harry pants out a laugh before sealing his mouth to hers.

"Tha's good because I like you more than Niall too." He mumbles into her lips.

"You like me more than you like everyone." She chuckles, stroking her thumb along his jawline. Harry's eyes shine with delight, proud that she knows her place in his heart, but he still teases.

"Mmm almost darling. Quite like my son, ya know that?"

She rolls her eyes but looks at him fondly, pinching the meat of his cheek. "Cute," she murmurs, "now go get ready for your fight baby. Want everyone to see my husband's gonna be the national champion."

Her words bring a rush of blood to his cheeks (and his cock if he's being honest), but he nudges her onto the couch next to him. "Just need two more wins." He whispers in her ear, pecking her temple.

Just two more wins.

There's good fights and there's bad fights. Everyone knows that. But not everyone knows that there's good wins and bad wins. Harry's experienced a few of those bad ones. Wins that he probably shouldn't have gotten because he certain his opponent had landed more punches and the judges miscounted. Or it was clear the other fighter wasn't into it and let him win.

Harry thinks tonight is his worst win ever.

The fight had been good. Trinsky, tonight's opponent from New Jersey, was short and stocky but strong. Harry was quicker than him though so they'd gone back and forth for a few rounds. Nothing two rough, just enough punches to have bright red welts on his torso and an ache in his jaw.

He fought through it though, fueled by the sounds of y/n and Niall cheering for him. Win this fight and he's onto the championship match. So he went at it with all he had left, charging Trinsky just as the man knocked his fist into Harry's temple.

It felt like a lightning bolt of pain zapped through his brain, shaking his core and causing his feet to stumble. Trinsky slid to the right as Harry crashed into the ropes, blinking furiously as the room around him spun. He was still in a daze as his body moved on its own, quick enough to uppercut his left fist into Trinsky's chin. The man crumbled to the mat, out cold, and Harry's dizzy head brought him down as well.

There's cheering and an announcement of his name, declaring Harry the winner but he can't seem to focus on it. Trinsky is being moved from the ring by his team, Harry falling to his bum on the mat as he rips at the velcro of his gloves with his teeth.

The room is coming back into focus, someone is calling him from the side of the ring but he doesn't recognize the voice so it goes ignored. He gets his hands free, rubbing his fingers into the tender spot on his head and wincing. He needs to take some Advil and ice it.

Harry climbs to his feet, a bit disoriented as he ducks under the ropes to leave. He knows he's got a team here somewhere but his mind can't seem to recognize what they look like or how to find them.

"Man, what are you doing?"

He turns, confused to find two men watching him like he's grown a second head. Harry feels like he knows the warm brown eyes of the taller man but he's not sure from where. Smiling uncomfortably, he motions behind him.

"I n-need ice or something." He says, excusing himself with a shrug and turning back to the locker room. He doesn't like the way his stomach twists or how his chest is telling him he knows those men when he couldn't even tell you there names right now. His heart thunders in his chest, panic seeping in and he's desperate to find something or someone that'll just help him out.

"Harry baby," she says calmly, a hand rubbing up his bare back comfortingly. "you okay?"

Y/n appears at his side, head tilted so she can meet his nervous gaze. Almost immediately he latches onto her hand, shaking his head. Her eyebrows crease, lips frowning as she reaches to cup his cheek.

"What's going on H? What's the matter?"

"M'head hurts," he answers immediately. "I-I think I forgot my team."

A trembling breath leaves his lips, tears stinging behind his eyes when he sees the concern on his wife's face. She brushes her thumb over his temple, the one she knows got hit the hardest, and then brushes a sweaty strand of hair off his forehead to place a tender kiss there.

"Let's get you to the locker room babe."

He follows like a lost puppy, trailing behind her through the back hallway and into his locker room. Y/n closes the door behind him before anyone else can enter, twisting the lock. Harry sits in the closest chair, fiddling with the tape on his fingers as he tries to calm down.

"Do you want to talk to me bub?" Y/n asks quietly, pulling up a seat directly in front of him. He nods, lifting his gaze from his hands to her face.

"I don't know what happened. It's like I got hit in the head and everything got shook up." He explains, frowning. He hates the way this feels. Hates that his body is screaming at him to just remember but his brain refuses to accept the message. "I know them, I know I do but s'like their names and stuff are just gone."

Y/n inhales sharply, biting nervously at her bottom lip. Harry's not even sure what to say and that makes him feel so much worse. He doesn't even feel like he has a concussion, not really. Everything else is still there, still in the forefront of his mind. His wife, his boys, Anne and Gemma. And he faintly remembers sitting at bars with one of the men from his team, remembers crashing on his couch late at night. But the soul of those memories are gone.

"I'm gonna get you some painkillers and water okay babe? Then we'll figure out what to do."

He nods, smiling wetly when she kisses his forehead. Watching her move around the room to gather water and whatnot, Harry wills himself to just think. He knows these men, he's just gotta focus on it. A memory stands out, one of the three of them in a car on a road trip. His trainer is driving, his manager in the passenger seat and he knows this is a trip for a match. A recent match too because he remembers saying goodbye to Arlo and y/n, kissing her swollen belly before he went.

Y/n returns to him with a bottle of water and a couple pills, watching him cautiously as he squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to just think. Recalling conversations from the car, remembering the screen in the front of the vehicle that reads Connected to Liam's iPhone. Liam. Almost instantly Nick's name floods his brain again and he feels his whole body tremble with relief.

Harry takes the medicine, gulping it down and slumping into his seat. "Nick and Liam," he finally murmurs, voice thick. "I couldn't remember darling. They were right in front of me and I couldn't remember their fucking names."

A silent tear trails down his cheek, Harry sniffling as y/n wipes it away with a tender touch he's only felt from her. "Its ok Harry. We'll figure out what happened. At least you remember now baby." She tried to comfort, but Harry's heart still aches.

"What if-" he peers up at her through wet eyelashes. "what if it had been you? Or Arlo? Or all three of you? What if I-"

He can't even finish the thought before he's shaking his head, more tears slipping down his cheeks and jaw. What would he have done if he'd looked at y/n and not remembered her name? Not remembered the beautiful son they created? Or the one she's growing now?

"It wasn't Harry," she stays sternly, cutting into his spiralling thoughts. "it wasn't and even if it did happen, it wouldn't change a thing. You're not getting rid of us."

Trying to smile, he nods and takes a deep breath. He trusts her, more than anyone, and he's never known someone that fights as much as she does. He knows, no matter what, that she'll always have his back.

#sweet as honey #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #one direction #harry styles au #dad harry #boxer harry #cute #smut #daddy harry styles #sweet as honey talk

390 notes · View notes

usmsgutterson · 4 years ago

Text

Yellow- Pin Hawthorne

OKAY, YES-- I’ve wanted to write for Pin Hawthorne since having finished the show, and I’ve decided to do it, because I simply can’t resist and Pin is my favorite moody horseboi, plus, this blurb (imagine? I don’t know how long it’s gonna go yet!) is entirely inspired by the songs Yellow and Sparks by Coldplay, because the show is modern and the songs were released W A Y before the years that show is set in, so yay!

Pins aged up in this, as well. In the show he’s around 16-17? In this, he and the reader are both 20!

I might have Pins characterization a little off because I’ve only watched the show once (I’m gonna rewatch it before I do a shadow and bone rewatch,, moody pin is just a bit too endearing) but other than that, lets do it!

The reader is American for this, and I did mostly keep it gender neutral, aside from an outfit description! Even then, though, I did try to keep it androgynous

Fic type- fluff

Warnings-none

It took a ton of convincing on Pins part to get his dad to let him use the castle for something that, to anyone else, might’ve seemed small. He’d known it might’ve, and started the process a good month before the event was even to happen. A decision that he’d made that wound up working in his favor.

“You really love them, don’t you?” His father asked, pressing the keys into his palm as Pin gave a nod. “Even with all the stupid nicknames?” Pin grimaced, but nodded again.

“Even the stupid nicknames, Dad,” he assured. “All of them.” His father broke out into a smile, pulling Pin in for a hug as he tucked the key away into his jacket pocket.

“Well then, happy anniversary,” his father mumbled. “Five years? Gotta admit, I had faith, but I didn’t think you’d make it this far. Not with someone like them.”

“I know,” Pin retorted. “I’m pretty lucky.” Pin knew that ‘pretty lucky’ might as well have been understatement of the year, but went along with it anyway, pulling away from his father and slowly approaching Elvis, patting his side a few times before climbing onto the saddle and riding down to the castle that he, as the duke, could technically call home.

The castle was big and at times, tough to get around, but he made his way just fine, letting Elvis move at a slow gallop rather than a run, figuring that he had the time, considering you’d agreed to meet at 8 and it was barely 7:15.

When he arrived, he put Elvis away safely, and made his way through the entrance and up to the outdoor balcony, which had a view outlooking the expansive land on which the castle was built, and the trees that went around the outerrim of the space.

He grabbed his bag off the chair on which he’d had his butler leave it the day previous, almost grinning to himself as he sat at the glass table, rummaging through the bag for everything that he’d put in it.

A bottle of wine, because why not, several sweets, a ton of the polaroids you’d taken in the seven years you’d known each other, some fairy lights that he’d hang up so that you weren’t totally and completely in the dark, and a bluetooth speaker that Becky had gotten him that Christmas; one that he’d still not bothered to use, despite the fact that it was almost June.

“Can I get you anything sir?” Arthur poked his head through the balcony door way, and Pin found himself startled.

“Uh, yes please. Wine glasses,” Arthur gave a single, solitary nod.

“The dinner that you requested will be here by the time you requested for it,” he responded. “Though, are you really sure fast food is what you want? It doesn’t seem right to celebrate an anniversary with fast food.” Pin forced his gaze to his lap so that Arthur wouldn’t glimpse his smile.

You’d come from America, just like Zoe had, but you’d moved with your family to the island when you were eleven. You’d met Pin when you were thirteen.

One summer, Pins father was insistent that he get away from the stables, spend some time somewhere he’d not gone before, travel a little, and your family had agreed to let him spend the eight weeks of summer with you in the united states.

You’d had your first date in a McDonalds that same summer, when you and Pin were fifteen. He’d felt weirded out, at first. The fact that he’d never eaten from a McDonalds, despite there having been a couple on the island, almost made him confused. You’d gotten chicken nuggets to split and a couple of the pastries to count as a desert of sorts, and thus sparked the relationship.

“No reason,” Pin murmured. “It’s quick. It’s easy, and the last meal that they ate was lunch.” Arthur gave another nod, and Pin began fiddling with the speaker as he heard Arthurs footsteps grow farther and farther away.

It was a speaker that was almost the size of his hand and designed to look like a vintage radio. Forest green was the color, and the dial on the right side would control volume. The three buttons below the dial were the power button, the on/off button, and the skip button. Pin turned it on, checking the sound quality by playing two MCR songs, silently bopping his head as Arthur returned, the supplies that Pin had asked Arthur to gather in a bag perched neatly on his arm.

Arthur placed the bag on the table wordlessly, leaving Pin to do his thing as he stopped using the speaker, deciding that the sounds of nature; the river, the rustling of trees and the beautiful view of the sky as the sun grew closer and closer to setting was much better company than Gerard Way scream-singing his lungs out.

He’d spent the remainder of the time he had working on your gift. At the end of it, he felt proud of himself, even despite how dumb he’d thought the idea was at first.

It was all of his favorite photos of you--polaroids he’d taken via polaroid camera and polaroids that became polaroids when he’d used a polaroid printer alike-- neatly put into a big picture frame, plus a couple of his sweaters that you liked to steal, some of your favorite sweets, and a journal he knew you’d been eyeing at one of the shops.

Arthur put the McDonalds onto the table in the last ten minutes before eight, putting the wine glasses beside the bag. “I’ll send them here when they’ve arrived,” he murmured, shooting Pin a smile as he turned and walked away.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Pin had the dinner mostly set up, the chicken nuggets at the center of the table, fries on either side, wine glasses filled the appropriate amount.

“You’re lucky I love you, Hawthorne,” Pin was almost breathless as he glanced over to you, putting the bag that he’d put your gift in on the ground to his right. “If you were anyone else, I’d not have waited so long to eat dinner.” You’d worn a simple pair of black jeans, with a black turtleneck and a dark gray blazer overtop. You styled your hair like you always did, and your smile was bright, eyes warm as you looked at him.

“McDonalds and wine,” you sat, putting the gift you’d gotten Pin on the ground to your left, reaching across the table and taking his hand in yours. “The perfect way to a persons heart.”

“Do you like it?” He asked, gesturing to the fairy lights Arthur must’ve put up while he was busy in the world of gift making. They weren’t lit yet, as the sun had barely begun to dip over the horizon, but he’d light them once it grew darker. You nodded.

“It’s absolutely lovely,” you responded. “I didn’t think you’d put this much effort in, to be totally honest.” You were poking at him, pricking gently at his work ethic in the hopes of getting a kiss across the table.

“I’d have been fine just cuddling the day away,” you admitted. “And I know you would’ve, but thank you. For everything.” He smiled, feeling grateful for Zoe’s suggestion that he use the castles balcony to his advantage when he’d brought his plans up to her and Marcus.

“You’re welcome,” he responded.

After that, you lapsed into a comfortable silence, making occasional conversation as you ate and drank. You let Pin ramble about the sick horses at Bright Fields and made a mental note to visit the hospital part of the stables, see how they were doing and make sure they knew that they were loved. As you cleaned up, putting your garbage back into the McDonalds bag, you gave Pin updates on some of the horses around the stables and the wild horses that you and Jade had been tracking.

“There’s a foal, too!” Pin loved seeing you get so excited, and that was no exception. “I know that we shouldn’t name the wild horses, but I couldn’t help myself, so I named the horse November.”

“Why November?”

“The foals coat is white. Snow is white, and snow happens in November. It just seemed fitting!” You grabbed the bag, going inside only briefly to put it into the nearest trash bin before walking back out and sitting back down.

Pin grabbed the bag with your gift in it at the same time you grabbed the bag with his. He slid yours to you with a bright smile, and you slid his to him with the same.

You opened yours first. “Your hoodies!” You yelled out, smile turning into a full on beam, “Pin, you know that we’re moving in together in the fall, right? You’re just gonna get these back!” Pin shrugged.

“You get them until the fall, I’ll wash them, wear them a couple of times, and then they’re yours again. I get to see you in my clothes and you get to be warm and comfortable constantly! I call it a win-win situation!”

“Can’t disagree with that!” You put the sweaters back in the bag, grabbing the photo frame next.

You sighed, feeling your legs turn to jello as your heart melted. You looked up at him, feeling tears well up in your eyes as you did. “Five years of polaroids,” you whispered. “And you’re giving them back to me?” Pin just shrugged, feeling tempted to round the table, crouch next to you and kiss you senseless, but he resisted.

“I took photos of them,” he responded, pulling his phone out of his pants pocket and waving it around. “I can always get more copies from the polaroid printer.” You laughed lightly.

“Thank you, Pin, so much.” You’d never stop saying it. You had so much to thank him for. Every smile, every laugh, every dinner date, every ride out into the countryside and every kiss.

“You don’t need to thank me, love,” he responded. “Theres one more thing in there for you.” He gestured to the bag as you put the photo frame back into it, pulling out the journal you’d been eying a moment later.

“No fucking way!” You cursed, turning it over in your hands. Pin leaned back into his chair, shrugging while he nodded.

It was a simple journal: a brown leather bound thing that was the same color as Elvis’s fur, but it had pages that were suitable for practically anything.

“I know you’ve wanted it for a while, and, well, I figured you could use it for just about anything. Sketches, diary entries, even putting bank statements in the thing would make a good use for it,” You slightly stood, planting a kiss to his nose across the table.

You put the journal back into the bag and gestured to the bag he’d put in his lap. “It’s your turn, duke.”

“Don’t call me that,” he whispered. He narrowed his eyes at you, but the smirk that followed after told you he’d not been serious.

The first thing he’d pulled out was a scrapbook of the years that you’d spent together. From photos like the victory one that Ted had taken after you’d completed riding lessons, Pin doing a thumbs up on the right side of your horse while you sat on it still, throwing a peace sign and smiling, to random photos you’d taken together.

Blurry ones that’d been taken with the timer feature. You flipping off the camera while Pin flopped back onto his bed. One from when you were both sixteen, in the middle of turning around, his arms snaked around your waist and yours resting on his shoulders as you kissed, the screen blurred but not so blurred that you couldn’t tell what was happening.

A couple that Zoe, Jade, Becky and Marcus had taken. You, exhausted, with your head in Pins lap as he fiddled with a camera, curled up and almost hidden from sight in the haybales. You and Pin at the pony prom, slow dancing, looking at each other with nothing but love in your eyes. A shot taken as you and Pin left the stables, backs to the camera, hands interlocked. A photo of you and Pin in the haybales again, you with your head on his chest, his arm around your shoulders, hay in your hair. A laptop sat discarded beside Pins sleeping body, playing old episodes of Criminal Minds. Both of you had sleepy smiles on your faces.

Pin laughed as he saw more than one picture of you two asleep in the haybales, some taken by Jade, most taken by Zoe, though there were a few shots that’d been taken by his father.

“I love this,” he glanced up at you, then to the speaker that sat on the edge of the table. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, horse-boy!” He snorted, putting the scrapbook on the table and grabbing the next thing in the bag.

It was a sweater; one that he’d not seen since before his eighteenth birthday. “Thief,” he murmured, folding the sweater and putting it atop the scrapbook.

“You’re my favorite person,” was your lovestruck retort. He blushed as he grabbed the last thing in the bag.

It was a camera; a polaroid to replace the one that’d been broken in the months before, and it was vintage.

“You didn’t,” he looks up at you, face showing disbelief as clearly as his voice did. In response, you just shrugged.

“We’ve taken a lot of photos, and you loved the polaroid camera. I used a connection or two that I have and I grabbed it for you.”

“How much was it?” He asked. “We had a limit! No more than fifty pounds!”

“It was forty nine pounds, and the taming of a wild horse found just outside the coast of Maine. She comes in a couple of days, by the way.” Pin put the things back in the bag and stood, grabbing the speaker and turning it on, connecting his phone to it a minute later.

“You love chaos,” he teased. “But I love you, so I love it by association.” He held his hand out to you, and you took it, giggling as he pulled you in close, bringing you into a passionate kiss that lingered on your lips even after it’d ended.

He paused only to have Yellow by Coldplay stream through the speaker, putting his phone on the table next to it.

“May I have this dance?” He asked, emphasizing more on his accent in a silly way to get you to laugh. It worked, to his delight, as you nodded, cheeks flushing bright red.

“You may have every dance, if you so wish it,” he felt his cheeks heat up as he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead and gently swaying with you as your arms moved to rest at his shoulders and his moved to your waist, wrapping around it, his hands meeting and folding at the small of your back. ‘

He’d found a way to loop the song so that it played a couple of times back to back, but you didn’t mind. You had Pin. You had Pin and his sarcasm, his smiles, his voice, still drenched with sleep in the mornings and his peaceful face while he slept. You had tea in the mornings, quiet afternoons spent riding or in helping horses, and evenings laughing with your friends, Pin at your side.

You’d known Pin for seven years, and you’d been dating him for five. He was like the lgiht at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel, and he embraced you tightly as you finally escaped it.

“What makes you happy?” he asked you absentmindedly, just to get to hear the melodic sound of your voice again. You laughed, meeting his gaze with a smile.

“You, Pin,” you responded. “You make me happy.” He stared at you for a long moment, wishing that he had what he’d kept in his sock drawer since Christmas.

“What makes you happy?” You repeated.

“You, Y/N. Always you,” you leaned up, pressing your lips to his without so much as thinking twice.

The kiss was messy, and you stumbled backward a little, but you giggled as you did. When you pulled away, you were delighted to find that Pins cheeks were burning as bright as yours, the same red that coated some parts the sky as the sun dipped down the horizon.

“You’re the love of my life,” Pin was almost in awe at how easily you said it, like you’d been reading off a grocery list or ingredients for a recipe. Pin had wanted to say it since he’d bought the thing that sat in that pathetic little sock drawer, but he’d still not figured out how to say it and make it worthwhile.

“Do you want forever?” The closest he’d get, but he was fine with that, and relieved as you’d nodded. “I promise you forever then, Y/N.”

#pin hawthorne #pin hawthorne x reader #free rein #netflix #netflix series #freddy carter #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader

198 notes · View notes

daemoninwhiteround2 · 4 years ago

Text

"What do you mean, you've never nursed?"

Grayson sounds scandalised. Damian tuts. "Mother never breastfed me and I have not had an omega packmate. Asking one of the omegas I know would be inappropriate."

Nursing, when not undertaken for sustenance, is something that's only supposed to happen in packs or between mates. Damian personally thinks it's overrated.

From the horrified look on Grayson's face, he doesn't agree. "You mean you've never-"

"What did I just say?"

"No, but like. Not at all."

Damian allows himself an irritated huff. "Communal nursing doesn't happen in the League. And when would I have the opportunity to do so here?" He arches an eyebrow at Grayson.

Grayson looks to the side and then gets a determined set to his mein. "I have an idea."

Damian sighs and picks up his book. He might as well attempt to finish this whilst Grayson processes whatever foolish idea he's cooked up. "There is no lack-"

Grayson snorts and fishes his cell phone of a pocket. "No, for real, you don't know what you're missing. Nursing's the best."

Damian rolls his eyes. Grayson's gaze is fixed on his phone, so he doesn't notice, but it's the principle of the thing. He turns a page, pointedly loud, but Grayson continues to fiddle with his phone.

It takes long enough that Damian actually relaxes and settles back into the rhythm of Joyce's words.

"Jay's available, if you want?"

Damian tenses but doesn't look up from his book. If he doesn't engage Grayson, he'll tire himself out. "If I want what."

"If you want to nurse."

Damian puts his book down and looks over at Grayson, just in time for Grayson to look up from fiddling with his phone and for them to catch gazes. Grayson looks... Uncomfortably sincere.

Damian pushes down his initial response - he wasn't aware that Todd was an omeva. 'This is important to you isn't it?"

"Everyone should nurse, Dami. It's... I don't know how to explain it. It's connection."

Ah. Grayson is concerned that Damian feels disconnected from the pack. He's unsure as to how drinking from an, at best ancillary packmember will assist with that, but.

Damian is weak to Grayson. He sighs and looks for a bookmark. "Very well."

Todd is spending the night at the Manor - Damian hadn't cared to find out why - so they walk upstairs to the bedroom wing. Grayson doesn't knock at the door, merely waltzes straight inside.

Todd has the curtains closed but the lamp on the bedside table sheds enough light to illuminate the scene sufficiently. He's propped up in bed, surrounded by a pile of pillows. He looks very comfortable. Unexpectedly welcoming. He's reading too - or was reading, is half way through putting his book on the aforementioned table. He's shirtless and when he leans back, Damian realises that he's never seen Todd shirtless before and realises why.

Todd's breasts aren't particularly large, which is perhaps to be expected as none of them have a high body fat percentage. But his chest is visibly... Different, in a way Damian wasn't expecting. Softer, flushes red by a blush that runs from Todd's cheeks down to his mid-sternum. And when Damian inhales there's this smell of... He doesn't know how to describe it. He doesn't realise his jaw had been clenched and his shoulders tense until they relax.

He had assumed that the things he had read about packs needing an omega were all alpha-propagander designed to prevent omegas from obtaining true independence, but...

Grayson climbs into the right side of the bed and presses his body against Todd's. He pats the bed on Todd's free side. "Come on in Dami, the water's fine!"

"Jesus, Dick, seriously?"

Damian tunes out their bickering to examine their body language. Todd and Grayson typically don't interact that much, at least not as alpha and omega. But there seems to be this new... Awareness in how they touch in another. Todd is unexpectedly biddable, leans subtly into Grayson's touches, and Grayson is ... Not possessive so much as proprietoral. Like it is his right to touch Todd's body.

To cup a breast and pinch a nipple until milk beads up.

"Come on, Dami. Aren't you thirsty?"

Damian tuts to cover his nerves and climbs onto the bed. He. Where should he put his hands?

"Here, Damian, you kind of." Todd pulls at him until Damian relents and allows Todd to rearrange him.

He ends up pressed quite tightly to Todd's side. It's. Unexpectedly nice. He's warmer than Damian anticipated and that scent is even stronger here.

"Like this, Dami."

Damian watches as Grayson wriggles down the bed until he's head level with Todd's breasts and then leans in close and sucks it into his mouth. Todd shudders, faintly enough that Damian only notices because he's pressed up against Todd, and cups Grayson's head to hold him close.

"Like that," he says with the tiniest hint of a purr.

Damian doesn't need to rearrange himself, he's still much smaller than Grayson. He leans in and presses his mouth around Todd's nipple.

"You gotta, gotta suck. Like this."

Todd presses a finger to the corner of Damian's mouth and in some instinct that Damian doesn't understand, he sucks.

At first there's nothing and then

Milk.

Delicious and sweet.

He wants, needs more. He presses closer, sucks harder, but it just makes his neck hurt. He bites down so as to not loose the connection and climbs into Todd's lap. Todd's arm come up to cradle him closer and yes. This is perfect.

He's not sure how much time passed before he pulls away. This should concern him, but all his worries feel muted and distant. The milk never stops and even lessens. Todd and Grayson both smell so good, like.

Damian draws back and presses his forehead to the swell of Todd's breast and admits to himself. Todd and Grayson smell like home.

There's a faint whimper and he looks up to see Grayson and Todd pull away from each other, their lips bruised and slick.

"Had your fill, baby?" Todd murmurs, his voice thick and slow.

Grayson presses his face against Todd's head and purrs. "My little brother makes such a good mommy."

Todd shudders and cries out, his body arches up into Damian and Grayson's touch.

He smells so good. Like home but something more. Brighter. Deeper. Something that calls to the alpha in Damian.

He's so hot to the touch.

"Hey Damian," Grayson asks and his fingers creep under the waistband of Todd's sweatpants. "Wanna learn how to eat an omega out?"

#jaydick #damijay #lac kink #dae writes #omega Jason Todd #alpha Dick Grayson #alpha Damian Wayne #dc #batman #Omegaverse #Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #Damian Wayne #pov experiments

279 notes · View notes

saltycharacters · 3 years ago

Note

i love love LOVE your designs sm, esp your lion characters! theyre so unique! did any of them take a lot of trial and error to design just right? and if so, which one(s)? theres gotta be fiddling with different concepts to some degree for all of them id think, but i imagine some mightve been harder to come up with than others?

((ps: i like your content and send asks pretty frequently, and from what i can tell, you seem like such a kind and genuinely cool person!! your work is also a big inspo for a younger artist like me!! i hope life has been treating you well!))

Aaaaah thank you!!!! Very flattered to hear that my work has made an impact on you :,]

As for the lions, I actually designed most of them once and right as I drew them, only having a vague idea of what I wanted beforehand. When I went on my lion designing spree, I specifically had a paper with some quick sketches of lion mane ideas and what they were meant to look like, such as a sunflower or egg- everything else was thought of on the spot. However, technically not all of these lions were invented within one year- about half I've actually owned for a long time, and were either pre-existing lion ocs or characters I redesigned into lions. Those were easier to because I already had some groundwork to work off of. Here's some examples;

All that said, I think the lions i struggled with the most were Molian and Ravencrow. Both technically came from old ocs, but I had trouble perfecting the balancing act between preserving that nostalgia and coming up with something fresh and good looking- I'm still not quite happy with either. Molian has way too much going on and RavenCrow's colors could use adjustment.

#Ravencrow also use to be two ocs but now theyre one #i try my best to recycle old ocs and use them to their full potential instead of making new ones all the time #because heaven knows I have enough as is #so only like. 50% of those lions were created this year #does make designing easier but not always #molian #ravencrow #jassel #chev #chu #lions #my art #ocs

29 notes · View notes

honeymoonjin · 4 years ago

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 11.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

Congratulations! You’ve been accepted as the Lady in the first season of The Gentlemen.

<- prev || masterlist || next ->

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, exhibitionism, filmed sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), big dick namjoon serving us tripod realness, dom!joon, and when i say dom i mean both dominant AND domestic : ), impregnation kink, daddy kink, praise, dom!jimin, sub!reader in both of these scenes, lingerie kink (m wearing), copious teasing, very light spanking, french kissing, lapdance, the jimin scene is filthier than the tags give it credit for ngl, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing/eating, aftercare (as always)

banner designer @jamaisjoons | thank you everyone in the sfhs server, you bring me so much joy, motivation and good ideas | AND finally thank you to the anon that suggested [redacted] jimin i legit replanned everything just to make that his prompt

DAY TWELVE

The mattresses in the room of bunk beds are surprisingly comfortable. The metal springs squeak a little if you move too much, but you wake up feeling well-rested.

“Not too bad, right?” Hoseok chirps, swinging out on the ladder and jumping down onto the floor with a thud. Using his laundry from the day before, he unceremoniously swaps his sleep shirt and boxers for some deep green skinny jeans and an orange sweater. Namjoon, more modest and distinctly more sleepy, grabs his clothes and stumbles back to his own room.

“The beds? Better than I was expecting for sure.”

Hoseok smiles warmly as you hop down the ladder and arrive on steady ground again, toes curling into the carpet. He fiddles quickly with a chunky watch, doing up the links. “Breakfast is downstairs if you want it.”

You throw him a teasing grin. “Not if you’re making it, thanks.”

He has the good graces to pretend to be offended, before tugging you into a playful side-hug, ignoring your squeak of surprise. “No, you cheeky fucker, Jungkook bought pancake mix. He texted me saying there’s plenty for everyone.”

“Jungkook making breakfast?” you ask dubiously, but the warm image of pancakes for breakfast makes your stomach growl. “Let me get dressed real quick and I’ll come down.”

Jungkook, it seems, is starting out the day cheerful as ever. He gives you a big grin when you, Namjoon and Hoseok come down for breakfast, and he makes sure to dish up the biggest pancakes for you, before taking the second biggest for himself.

Jin raises a teasing brow when you come down accompanied by the two men, Namjoon still with his hair ruffled up awkwardly from his slumber. “Long night?” he questions with a cheesy wink.

Hoseok catches on to the teasing nature, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Sadly, Namjoon wanted a rest day, so we didn’t enjoy any funny business.”

Jungkook watches the three of you closely, lips tightening just a little bit before he breaks out into a cheeky smile. “I think Y/n would have been too tired out to do anything more anyway.”

You choke on air, a forkful of pancakes blessedly not in your mouth yet. Beside you, Hoseok chuckles awkwardly. “Goodness, JK, we heard enough yesterday. The gym walls are not as thick as they should be.”

Instead of blushing like you are, Jungkook puffs his chest up. “I’ve never heard Y/n scream like that with any of you guys. Then again; I bet you haven’t made her squirt like I did.”

This time you aren’t so fortunate, coughing on a mouthful that you’d anxiously stuffed in to keep yourself occupied. You send Yoongi a grateful look as he slides you a glass of water.

“Jesus, Jungkook,” Jin grimaces, “we’re trying to eat breakfast.”

You keep your eyes down, confused by Jungkook’s behaviour and more than a little embarrassed.

When you hear Namjoon speak up, his voice is strangely tensed. “That’s really not appropriate.”

A heated pause. “This is literally a porn show,” Jungkook states defensively, “sex is the whole reason we’re here. I think everyone’s forgetting this is a competition about being the best in bed, I’m just- You know what, never mind, pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“You just what?” Namjoon questions. It’s unlike him to be argumentative, and you shift in your seat, taking another sip of the ice-cold water. “Did you really make us all pancakes just so you could gloat? Y/n is a person, not a video game, Jungkook. Have a little respect.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but when you glance up, the frustrated rolling of his eyes and furious stabbing of his fork in a pancake speaks volumes.

Yoongi pinches his brow. “Jin-hyung, can you pass the syrup? Thanks.”

Namjoon stares expectantly at the youngest Gentleman for a few moments, before letting out a light huff and returning to his food.

Silence continues for a moment or two before Taehyung pipes up, voice tiny in the oppressive tension. “How many people still have to do their prompts this week? I haven’t done mine yet.”

Yoongi sends him a lightly exasperated look. “Really?”

Taehyung gives a small shrug, glancing to the camboy sitting beside him. “I mean… I don’t think we need to be explicit but this show is about sex. I feel like it’s equally bad if we don’t talk about it at all, you know?”

“The kid’s right,” Jin allows with a wry grin. “I’ve done mine. Tuesday; though I suppose some of you saw.”

Jimin cocks his head, lost. “Saw? Uh, yes, I haven’t done my prompt yet. Actually, uh, if you guys wanna take part, stay in the lounge tonight. I need an audience.”

You send him an inquiring look. “What about me?”

Jimin lets out a short laugh. “Your participation is kind of mandatory. Please stay in the lounge too.”

You appreciate the slow brushes of conversation that ease the tension away. “Am I an audience member or a volunteer?” You grimace suddenly. “Wait, fuck, it isn’t like a circus act or something, right? You aren’t a magician?”

“Don’t worry, the show won’t be that kind of magic,” he promises.

You go to reply, but your attention is caught by the way Jungkook is openly glaring at Namjoon like he’s waiting for something. “Kook?” you question.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. “Why aren’t you saying anything now, Namjoon? So they get to talk about sex but I can’t?”

Jin sucks in harshly through his teeth, sending a look of alarm to the youngest. “Okay, break it up, that’s enough. Jungkook, any more smart comments and you can leave. We’ll talk privately if you need it.”

Jungkook lets out a bitter scoff, but Namjoon is already rising hastily, banging the edge of the table in his haste to get up. “I’ll go,” he urges, “you all can enjoy your breakfast in peace.”

Nobody seems to even breathe as the sounds of Namjoon’s footsteps fade away, a door upstairs shutting harshly.

Yoongi has his face bent, thumb and forefinger pressing to his forehead, like a headache is coming on. “What the fuck was that?” he muses tiredly.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, staring at his pancakes like he’s trying to make them burst into flames.

You bite your tongue harshly, unsettled by how tempers flared so quickly. Unsure of what to do, you stare at Jungkook for a moment. You don’t want it to seem like you’re picking a side, but he has five others around him, and Namjoon is upstairs alone. You slide your chair out, quieter than last time. “I’m just going to check on him. Jungkook; you’re fine, I’m not angry.”

He breaks out of his death stare at his breakfast to send you a look of bewilderment, but Yoongi is already clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I am,” the second eldest declares, and you rush upstairs before the scolding begins.

Namjoon answers, albeit reluctantly, when you knock on the door and call out to him. He’s well and truly awake and alert now, hair combed down sullenly, the purple looking more faded than ever against the rich blue of his long-sleeved t-shirt. “Are you okay?” he asks with a tired frown.

Your brows lift automatically. “That is the exact question I came up here to ask. Can I come in?”

His bedroom is even more tidy than usual, now that he hasn’t been sleeping there. You sit down on the edge of his bed, feeling an unsettling swirl of dread.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook,” is the first thing out of his mouth as he sits down beside you, shoulders hunched like he’s making himself as small as possible.

You shake your head slowly. “You shouldn’t apologise on other people’s behalf. He’ll say sorry if he wants to.”

Namjoon pauses for a moment. “Then I’m sorry about contributing to the uncomfortable atmosphere.”

Despite the situation, your mouth quirks into a grin and your eyes soften. “Forgiven. I’m more worried than angry, you know? About the both of you.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh, eyes dancing aimlessly around the room, no doubt pondering complex concepts at the speed of light like he usually was. “This is probably to be expected, right? Tension. I didn’t think I’d be the one involved, though.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t be a reality show without some drama,” you allow, scooting back on the bed so you can tuck your feet up, crossing your legs. “We’ve just gotta move past it, I guess.”

“Didn’t it make you uncomfortable?” Namjoon blurts suddenly, cringing at the volume of his voice. “Him talking about you so publicly like that?”

You run your tongue along the inside of your cheek. “It took me off guard for sure. I don’t know; I guess sex is kind of our currency in here, you know? Him being so, uh, bold about it out of nowhere is pretty weird, though.” You shrug it off. “Maybe he slept bad last night.”

Namjoon searches your face. “I’m too much of a prude, aren’t I? Things like that bother me, so why did I sign up for a porn show?”

You turn to face him, brows knitted in sympathy. “Just because others are more open doesn’t mean being modest is a bad thing. Don’t let Jungkook’s bad mood make you believe that you don’t belong on the show or that you need to change. Okay?”

The two of you share a tender moment of eye contact, before Namjoon laughs shyly and turns his head away. You grin at him. “What?”

“It’s stupid,” Namjoon deflects, “it’s not the time.”

“Not the time for what?” you press. “Tell me; I’m curious now.”

Namjoon’s eyes dart up, pausing briefly at your lips. “I just… I really wanted to kiss you.”

Your heart swells, but you keep your face open, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “Then you should kiss me.”

All the breath leaves his lungs in a rush, but before he can inhale again, he’s propelling himself forward, wide hands cradling your jaw steady so your lips can join, a little uncoordinated but perfect nonetheless.

The small whimper of surprise is muffled by his lips, but you quickly melt into him, hands clutching at the front of his shirt for stability.

You can taste the remnants of breakfast, the sweet stickiness of maple syrup on his lips. You deepen the kiss to seek out more of the flavour, breaths escaping your nose as you don’t dare part for a second. Namjoon seems equally enraptured, shy flicks of his tongue making your head spin.

You lean in until your wrists are pinned between his chest and yours, and then lean in more, wanting to be close. Like oxygen to fire, the more contact you get the more desperate you become, and when his hands lower to lift you easily onto his lap, grinding you unconsciously against his erection, you feel ablaze.

“I need to-nm-do my prompt,” Namjoon murmurs out, teeth catching on your tongue with how deeply you kiss.

You swallow, leaning back slightly to take a breath in. “We don’t have to now,” you assure, moving your hands up to stabilise yourself on his shoulders so that he cranes his neck up to chase your lips. “Or have you graduated from Hoseok’s School of Sexual Prowess already.”

You smile down at the way his eyes flutter shut with a crooked grin, delicate crescent moon lash line a deep brown against his tanned skin. His lips are flushed and swollen, and he swallows like a man parched before he speaks, blinking blearily up at you. “I prefer to learn on the job,” he quips hoarsely.

You grin, leaning down to nudge him slightly to the side with your nose, giving you a better angle to leave a trail of light kisses from the corner of his mouth to the top of his jaw, tugging on his earlobe just enough that you feel his dick twitch against you. “What’s it gonna be, then? Am I a naughty student? Slacking receptionist? Do I need to sign for a package, delivery boy?”

The chuckle Namjoon lets out is pained and reluctant. “Was that what you were hoping for? It’s a bit more romantic than that.”

“Romantic is good,” you assure, letting his arms on your hips hold you steady as you lean back and search his face. “Do I get any more clues? Tell me something.”

When he blinks up at you, there’s something open and earnest in his gaze, like he’s left behind that shy boy that blushes at any mention of sex. “Let me show you, love.”

He cradles your back and lays you down on his bed so delicately it takes your breath away. Without speaking, he presses his lips to yours again, and once again you feel unanchored in an ocean, kept floating by the pressure of his proximity. Slower than usual, you move against each other; his hands bracing him up by the pillow, your leg hitched up over his waist to keep him close. Between the soft cushioning of his bed and the solid heat of his body, you feel secure and safe, eyes closed so that he fills your other senses entirely.

The sweetness of the maple syrup on his tongue and lips has long since melted away, but it leaves behind his natural flavour, one you think you prefer more. Aftershave still clings to his cheeks, tingling your nostrils, but past it is the bright candylike scent of his orange blossom shampoo, and they mix dizzily as the ends of his hair brush your skin.

Need begins to pool between your legs, but it doesn’t drive you, instead staying muted in the background like the pleasant heat of a bubbling jacuzzi, hips rocking lazily without any true purpose as you focus on the shocks of pleasure when your tongues connect.

It’s impossible to tell how long the two of you stay like that, no urgency or haste, just enjoying the intimacy and closeness of shared breaths and swollen lips. When he trails a hand down to slip under your shirt, even his slightly calloused fingertips running up your side is enough to make you whimper, sensitised to every touch.

Namjoon groans when his palm covers your breast, gripping it and swiping a thumb over your stiffened peak, arousing even through the fabric of your bra, his mouth only leaving yours for the second it takes to push your shirt over and off, connecting again with a small grunt of need.

Though Namjoon’s body is hot like a furnace against you, the open air still causes you to shiver, arching your back so Namjoon can blindly locate the hooks on your bra, able to slip it off you in no time at all.

This time, when his teeth tug at your lip and you feel the uninhibited contact of his fingertip tracing a circle around your nipple, it’s like a spike of electricity straight to your core, igniting that spark of full-blown arousal. Namjoon’s lips quirk against yours when you let a moan catch in your throat.

When he shifts down, you’re expecting his mouth on your breast, or perhaps him to sit up to take his own clothes off, but he doesn’t go nearly that far. Instead he presses your jaw up, exposing your neck but laying kisses on the underside of your chin first.

Perhaps it’s that you weren’t expecting that touch, or perhaps such a unique place isn’t used to that type of attention, but his swollen lips caressing just below your jaw feels magical, eyelids fluttering as he sucks so, so gently.

His hand never leaves your breast, massaging the flesh, tracing where your regular skin pebbles into the dusky areola, nail dragging teasingly over the bud, and your mind is working itself into knots trying to process all the sensations he’s stirring in you.

If his first time was thrilling, this was nothing short of electric, neon bursts of colour behind your eyelids the only thing you can see. As his kisses slowly venture lower, dipping to the base of your neck, pulse throbbing against him, you picture your nerve endings like purple strands of electricity in a plasma ball, lighting up with every touch of his fingers, lips and tongue to your skin.

“Na-Namjoon,” you gasp out, swallowing to ease the dryness in your throat, “don’t tease, I need you.”

Namjoon shifts lower, but not low enough, chin resting on your chest as he looks up at you with a pleased smile, clearly satisfied with his improvement from last time. “But love, there’s no rush. We have the rest of our lives, remember? To have and to hold,” he rumbles lowly, pressing two light kisses to the top of your heaving breasts, “til death do us part.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

Namjoon’s lip twitches. “Oh,” he repeats playfully. Goosebumps break out on the tops of your arms at this sudden brazenness. He’d clearly been doing plenty of talking with Hoseok, and to see his hard work pay off in your pleasured reactions probably gave him a burst of confidence. “Are you going to be patient for me now, love? Let me savour you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, so you just nod shakily.

Satisfied with your response, Namjoon quirks a lip before using the very tip of his tongue to trail a circle around your nipple, just wide enough that the bud strains for his attention. Your fingers clutch his sides, annoyingly still clothed, as he moves to the other one, still giving your nipple a wide berth. “C-come on, Joonie,” you complain hoarsely, “I need more.”

When he looks up at you from below his lashes and sucks one nipple slowly into his mouth, tongue pressing it against his upper teeth, you hiss sharply, releasing the air in a breathy moan. Namjoon suckles at you gently, still languid but no longer avoiding your most sensitive areas, and the hand not propping him up begins rolling the other one between his fingers, making you shudder.

You’re so wet between your legs it’s growing uncomfortable, and so you cant your hips up towards him, hoping he gets the message. He tuts at you, but pulls off your nipple with a wet pop and sits up to undress further.

Namjoon shucks his own shirt without ceremony before his fingers find your waistband, and you let him slide off your pants and underwear as you lie back and enjoy the sight of his thick chest and smooth stomach, a trail of dark baby hairs disappearing past his jeans that you didn’t remember noticing the first time you slept with him.

He takes off those jeans, his boxers too, and joins you on the bed again, running a warm palm up your side. “I want to taste you,” he announces simply, carding a hand through his hair to keep it out of your face.

“Fuck, please.” You watch with wide eyes as he lies on his stomach, hands dipping under your thighs to lift and part them. The exposed air has you clenching instinctively, and you swear you can see his eyes dilate at the sight. “Namjoon,” you whine, back arching in impatience.

“Shh, love, I’ve got you,” he assures, peppering kisses from just below your knees, down your thighs until you can feel his breath on your core. “So beautiful.”

You can barely breathe, head propped up on the pillow to stare down the plains of your chest and stomach to the insanely attractive man between your legs. Though you’d grown fond of the kinkier, wild scenes - in fact, your dreams at night had taken a turn since joining the show - something about seeing Namjoon so at his element in this domestic atmosphere has you dripping.

Like he has all the time in the world, he locks eyes with you and blows a wave of slightly cool air over your folds. You breathe out a groan, sending him what you hope is a convincing-enough pleading gaze. He smiles placidly, licks his lips, ducks his head even further, and-

And blows another stream, this time narrowed and colder, directly over your clit. You shudder and buck instinctively in his grip, his hands on your thighs keeping you spread.

“Come on,” you gasp out, “Hoseok’s made you into a fucking demon!”

“Oh, trust me,” Namjoon murmurs, “Hoseok’s version was way kinkier than this. I’m trying to be romantic and sensual.”

You shift again, fruitlessly trying to wiggle your hips closer. “It would be really fucking romantic if you would actually put your mouth on my-ah!”

Just like you know Hoseok would (you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for this), Namjoon strikes when you least expect it, and when you most need it.

Though his mouth is small, his tongue is no less nimble, darting deeply through your folds to collect your juices and using them to slurp harshly at your clit. You jerk, hand shooting down to latch in his hair, but he continues that constant, unyielding vacuum until you’re squirming hopelessly beneath him, finally pulling off with the slightest graze of teeth.

“Happy now?” he retorts, swollen lips glossy with your slick. His hands tighten on your thighs. “Hold them.”

Invigorated by his command, you rush to grasp the backs of your knees, keeping your legs up and spread for him. “Fuck, so good, Joonie, w-want more.”

Now with two hands freed, it’s no surprise when two fingers find their way into your wet heat, twisting inside you with every smooth thrust. His chin is smeared with your wetness when he lowers it to continue laving his tongue over your sensitive clit, but he groans sinfully into you, like he’s getting just as much pleasure from it as you are.

Once he really gets going, he’s merciless, his fingers so thick that you don’t even need a third one to really feel him filling you, hooking up to rub at your g-spot every now and again to hear the involuntary whimpers you give out.

You hold onto your own knees for dear life, writhing under him as a hot coil tightens inside you. “Fu-fuck, Joonie, I’m getting close.”

His mouth detaches from your clit for a bare moment, enough for him to pant out a groan and stare lustily up at you. “Don’t cum yet,” he instructs lowly, “you’re going to cum on my cock this time, love.”

You whine, biting your lip harshly to try and distract from the building pleasure. “Then you have to- have to stop, Joonie,” you shudder out reluctantly.

To your surprise, Namjoon is even more begrudging than you are, tugging out his fingers to chase a last few indulgent licks up your seam before he finally sits up to kneel, panting. “Are you ready for me?”

You feel yourself grow impossibly wetter at the sight of him grasping his length, slipping it through your folds to slick it up. “Yes, god yes, I need it, need your cock,” you garble.

Namjoon’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, before he presses his head to your entrance, sinking in barely an inch to test your reaction. “Can’t wait to fill you up, love,” he admits, abs clenching with the effort it takes to sink in slowly. “Fuck a baby into you, my perfect girl.”

Your heart races at his words, clenching around. “God, yes, Joonie, please.” Though all the Gentlemen were well aware you were on birth control, there was something wildly erotic about the thought of it. “Fill me up, wanna be good for you.”

Finally he bottoms out, and your thighs shake at the stretch. With your hips tilted up, it almost feels like he’s fucking right into your stomach, so deep your mind struggles to process the sensations. He heaves a few breaths, giving you a chance to squeeze around him experimentally and grow accustomed to him filling you so completely.

You mumble out your permission for him to move breathily, the air punched out of your lungs when he pulls out only to drive deep inside of you in one slick thrust. Your mouth drops open once he begins to thrust, holding onto your knees for dear life as they tremble uncontrollably.

“God, look at you,” Namjoon pants out, chest heaving with excitement or exertion, perhaps a mix of both. One of his palms presses against the top of your stomach, increasing the pressure of his cock inside you. “‘Be so beautiful with my baby inside you, love, tummy swollen. I’ll take good care of you, would you like that?”

You have to squeeze your eyes shut to put all your focus into speaking. “Ye-yeah, I want that, Joonie,” you manage to articulate, his length keeping your mouth watering whenever he’s inside you. “Gonna be such a good daddy, Joon.”

Like a switch being flicked, Namjoon suddenly jerks, going rigid. Your eyes open blearily when he stills inside you, and you moan openly at the fucked-out look on his face, his eyes lidded and hair wild.

“S-say that again,” he commands, and your mouth drops open at the desperate grate to his voice.

So Namjoon liked to be called… “Daddy,” you whine experimentally, grinning when his cock twitches, hips juddering. “Want you to fuck me, Daddy, please move.”

“God, love, so fucking perfect for me,” he makes out before he starts off again with a renewed vigor, hands kneading at your breasts, at the flesh of your hips, at your ass as he lifts you up to meet his every thrust.

The feeling of him fucking into you so intensely has you feeling delirious, unsure if the ringing in your ears is actually the sounds of your own cries, torn from your throat with every slap of his balls against your ass, the weight of his hips jerking you into the pillow more and more every time.

You feel the pressure of his body hovering just above you, the angle of his thrusts changing, then suddenly his mouth is on your breast again, sucking harshly at the nipple. With the way your body moves beneath him, he can’t help but scrape his teeth against you a couple times, but it just makes the pleasure soar higher, neon starbusts of colour behind your eyelids when you squeeze them closed.

“Close again,” you warn desperately, losing the grip on one of your knees due to the sweat gathering there. With one up and one down, the angle changes again, and you reach out blindly to latch onto his upper arm, screaming at the heights of pleasure. “Can I cum this time, Daddy, please let me cum!”

“Fuck, give it to me, cum for me,” he growls out around your breast, and you see stars.

The orgasm that rips through you is powerful enough that all your senses fade suddenly away, unable to feel anything expect a rush of pleasure all the way down to your toes, boneless yet convulsing as he pistons his hips into you once, twice, three more times until he’s taken by the way you clench tightly around him.

He laps clumsily, wetly at your nipple as he spills inside you, before the two of you are completely drained of energy. Panting, heaving, you don’t even manage to catch your breath before you’re falling into slumber, Namjoon still inside you.

“He told us to wait here, right?” you ask anxiously.

There are six of you gathered on the couches in the lounge. Television off, the silence is weirdly uncomfortable. Perhaps that’s just because you know that everyone is waiting here not only to see Jimin, but to see what Jimin is going to do to you.

Hoseok, tucked into the smallest corner of the couch on the right, huffs lightly at your question. “He’s Jimin, Y/n. Either he’s up there primping or he’s just making you wait to be obnoxious.”

Perched beside him with a glass of whisky, two fingers full, Yoongi sends a droll glare to Hoseok. “Bold words for a man who’s choosing to watch the show.”

“I’m curious, sue me.”

“I think we all are,” Namjoon adds, curled up beside you in the central position of the three couches. “I think the only one that knows his prompt is Tae.”

Taehyung turns to answer, propped up against Jin’s side on the left, but the eldest interrupts, a crease of worry between his brows. “Not all of us, it seems,” he points out. “Don’t you find it strange that Jungkook isn’t here?”

“Does he know?” Taehyung wonders, fingers dipping into his pocket to reach for his phone.

Yoongi frowns. “He knows. He asked me not to make him anything for dinner tonight. Said he wasn’t feeling well. Didn’t seem like he was sick, just… distressed. I think you should talk with him, Jin.”

Jin sucks in a breath, pauses, and exhales again, jaw flexing. “Sure.”

The six of you lapse into a slightly strained silence again, before Namjoon gets restless, shifting beside you until he finally clears his throat and looks up at Yoongi. “What is for dinner, hyung?”

“We didn’t really have much for lunch, so I’m thinking steak and pasta,” the doctor offers up. “There’s some carbonara sauce in the pantry that looks good.”

Taehyung coughs nervously. “Do we have steak? I didn’t think there were-”

“We had plenty this morning when I checked,” Yoongi cuts in evenly. “Should I be aware of any recent developments?”

The masseuse pouts, leaning further into Jin’s side like he’ll protect him. “Well… It’s just that I feel so bad for Mango! The kennel I bought online isn’t as insulated as I hoped it would be and I know she gets lonely.”

Yoongi groans, going lax on the leather of the couch. “So you figured she’d what? Cuddle with the steaks?”

“I just figured maybe if I gave her nice food she’d cheer up,” Taehyung adds, “and it was just two! Are you mad at me?”

“No, I guess I’m not. Jungkook isn’t eating anyway, and…” Yoongi grins. “As penance, you can have plain pasta and watch the rest of us enjoy our perfectly cooked steaks.”

Taehyung throws himself against Jin dramatically, but even as he moans in misery, a relieved smile crooks at his lips. “I suppose,” he drawls begrudgingly, and once again a light atmosphere fills the room, like everyone’s just sighed out a breath of relief.

You lean onto the arm of the couch, facing Taehyung. “Tae, Jimin’s prompt isn’t too, like, intense, right?”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean? For him or for you?”

“Uh…” Your mind whirls blankly, cheeks heating up as you draw the attention of the other guys. “For- for me. So far some of the scenes have been pretty taxing, and I guess I just didn’t expect such a jump up from Week One.”

Instead of laughing or teasing, the others go a little solemn, perhaps even bashful. “Jimin’s isn’t super crazy, Y/n, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures quickly.

Yoongi bites down hard on his tongue, jaw popping. “We didn’t go too hard on you, did we?”

You suck in a breath. “I mean- No, not individually. It builds up though, you know?” Something niggles in the back of your mind, something you’ve wondered for a while. “Do you guys talk about it?”

Hoseok hesitates. “About fucking you?”

Your cheeks are on fire as you curl up small in the corner. “Not- Not that specifically, but just… Do you guys discuss who goes when and who has what? I kinda wondered why you spread yourselves out, if it’s just a coincidence or if you- Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“We kinda do,” Hoseok admits freely. “Like, obviously we don’t all sit down in a room brainstorming or something-” You don’t miss the way Taehyung and Namjoon instinctively lock gazes, though you can’t quite read their expressions. Hoseok continues, “but we do chat with each other and try and give each other space.”

Jin shrugs easily. “Yeah, like, I’ll just say in the groupchat, ‘I’m planning on doing my scene outside, look outside at your own risk’ or whatever.” The eldest stiffens as he’s fixed with several glares of alarm, including your own. “What? Were we not meant to tell her about the groupchat?”

Your mouth drops open. “You guys have a groupchat without me? I wanna see!”

“That defeats the purpose of you not being in the group chat,” Yoongi points out, though his grin is more sheepish than mischievous.

You make a noise of exasperation, ready to protest further, but before you can open your mouth the doorbell rings.

Everyone freezes.

After a moment, the doorbell rings again.

“You should go get it,” Taehyung supplies helpfully, eyes on you. “Might be interesting.”

Your heart picks up with the cool thread of adrenaline. It’s time. All eyes are on you as you sit up and make your way out to the foyer, the tile cool under your bare feet.

Though the door is a rich mahogany, clouded glass panels on either side betray a dark figure, perfectly still. Even though you can barely see the outline, there’s no deny the expectant tilt of their head belongs to none other than Jimin.

By the time you pad up to the door and turn the knob, his hand is outstretched to ring the bell a third time, and his mouth parts in surprise before giving you a pleasant beam.

You’d been wondering if he was meant to be a delivery guy, a mechanic, something along those lines, but your first glance over him proves you wrong.

His blue hair is glossy enough to reflect the light of the lamp above the doorway, curled in graceful swoops on his forehead and temples. Though he always wore makeup, it was clear he’s set to impress, with a bold russet red lip, powerful black eyeliner and a spot of gold under each eye.

He’s taller than usual, and you glance down automatically, to be greeted with the most gorgeous black heels, stiletto points giving him an extra few inches of height. The shoes make his legs look a mile long, and you suck in a breath as you follow them up, realising they’re completely bare, the only adornment a sinfully tight pair of black fishnets that dig in to his thighs and calves.

In fact, all he seems to be wearing otherwise is a black trenchcoat, falling to mid-thigh and with the sash tied so tightly it accentuates his narrow waist.

All put together, he looks like sin personified, the kind sailors drown for. You can’t help but want to dive in yourself. Trying to go along with the roleplay, you play dumb. “Do I, uh, do I know you?”

Jimin’s smile broadens as his arm falls, hand resting snugly on his hip. “You will soon, sweetness.” Usually one for pinks, nudes and clear glosses, seeing him suddenly in a deep red makes you realise just how full his lips are. You miss the feeling of them on you. “Did Taehyung not tell you I was coming?”

“Did Tae-?” You clear your throat, unsure how to proceed. This Jimin was Amazonian; bruisingly pretty and intimidating in his grace. “I guess not? Was he supposed to?”

His eyes crinkle empathetically, darting past you into the foyer. “Let’s talk inside, shall we? I’m not exactly dressed for the outdoors.”

“Oh, fuck!” you blurt instinctively, and you swear his lip twitches before you’re backing away hastily, ushering him inside. “I’m so sorry, please come in! Do you want me to take your coat? I don’t- I don’t know what you need.”

Jimin steps inside and closes the door behind him in one smooth motion, punctuated only by the click of his heels on the tile. He reaches out to pat your cheek, only somewhat condescendingly. “No wonder, sweetness, you didn’t even know I was coming.” That isn’t quite true, but in the scheme of things, you may as well not have known he was doing his scene tonight at all for all it’s helping you. “Why don’t you lead me to Taehyung? I assume he’s here.”

“Of course he’s- I mean, yes, he’s here. Right this way.”

The two of you only have a short trip to the lounge, where no doubt the other five have been straining their ears to eavesdrop, but every strike of his heels against the floor behind you has the hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end.

In the lounge, the guys are all turned around in their seats to shamelessly ogle Jimin, Taehyung the only one without the gobsmacked look on his face - though even he takes in an unsteady breath at how gorgeous the man looks.

You make your way to him, standing awkwardly in front of the couch that him and Jin share. Turning back to face Jimin, you can’t help but match Taehyung’s reaction. Jimin looks even more radiant in the decent lighting of the room. You can see now his trenchcoat is a lush fabric, slightly thicker than silk, and deeply matte. Around the inside of the collar is a faint embossed silver logo, promoting Chanel as the designer of that piece.

Ignoring the stunned silence of the room, Jimin slinks immediately to Taehyung, tipping his chin up with his knuckles. “Did you not tell Y/n about me, hm?” he questions with a faux pout. “Kept it a secret, our naughty Taehyungie.”

The masseuse wilts pleadingly under Jimin’s gaze, and the responding wicked grin makes you think that Jimin probably told him to keep quiet, only to tell him off for it now. “Sorry, Minnie,” Taehyung mutters nonetheless. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Did you now?” Jimin lets go of him, stepping back. “I suppose we should get down to business, then. Are you all leaving, or do I have an audience tonight?” Glancing around imperiously, you watch as his eyes dart back and forth, smile faltering. His breath catches, eyes dull with disappointment that he quickly masks under a broad smile. “It’s just the six of you, then?”

Your heart aches as you think of the missing person still upstairs in his room. “Yeah, it’s just us.”

Always the professional, Jimin moves on without comment. “Well, then, sweetness; take a seat and get comfortable. You’re a lucky girl tonight.”

Your mouth feels dry even as it waters. Taking your seat beside Namjoon again, you watch in rapt anticipation as Jimin slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, fiddling with something on it as he strolls slowly into the center of the room, just in front of the television.

“We have a few rules,” Jimin announces. “No heckling, no getting drunk while I’m here, and no touching unless I give you permission. They’re simple, so I expect you to follow them. Got it?”

With his back to the group as he sets up his phone, you’re unsure who exactly he’s addressing, but some of you make general hums of confirmation, all the attention on Jimin.

When the music starts - a deep, thrumming beat with a sensual pace - you can see the change in him immediately, even from the back. His shoulders adjust, head tips back slightly like he’s letting it run through him, and his fingers find the knot of his sash.

You can barely comprehend the fact that Jimin is about to dance for you, breath caught in your throat when his hips begin to sway and the fabric of his trenchcoat loosens, slipping down just enough to reveal the tops of his shoulders, bare except two skinny black straps.

Following the groove of the music, he rocks his head back, hips shifting side to side, and lets the coat fall an inch at a time. A tight black bodice is revealed, structured leather with a soft velvet trim that covers most of his back. Sleeves dangling right at the ends of his fingertips, the coat dips just below the swells of his ass, which are clad in a racy g-string, a thicker band of lace low across his hips and a narrow one running down the middle of his cheeks. Letting the coat go completely, the last of his back silhouette is exposed, the leather garter straps that hold those fishnet stockings up.

“Shit!” Yoongi hisses under his breath, hands glinting in the light and whiskey glass significantly emptier than before. A dark patch spreads across one leg of his pants, evidence of him spilling his drink.

Though he was quiet, Jimin picks up on it, and turns smoothly, lightly surprised and heavily amused, watching Yoongi squirm in embarrassment as he approaches.

If the view from the back is breathtaking, seeing Jimin full-frontal is another level. The bodice has clearly been tailored for someone with a flat chest, but the shape no less speaks to the feminine style of a bra, roughly triangular leather covering the upper half of his chest to meet the smooth velvet straps. The whole piece is just short enough that it leaves a stripe of skin between fabrics, his hipbones jutting out gracefully and guiding your gaze lower, where the front of his lace panties strain with the size of his length, the tip threatening to peek out the top.

He’s hard, you notice with a start, and from the hazy look on everyone’s faces, they’ve noticed it too. Jimin likes this.

When he’s standing in front of Yoongi, towering over the other in his heels, he reaches out a hand silently, eyes darting to the glass in Yoongi’s hand.

The elder gulps, holding it up, blushing as Jimin wraps one hand around Yoongi’s wrist, and takes the glass from him with the other. In a graceful swill, he downs the last of Yoongi’s whiskey, not even wincing. Teasingly, he bends down to place the empty glass directly over Yoongi’s crotch, making him hiss.

Like he has all the time in the world, Jimin straightens up again and tugs the wrist in his grasp higher. Locking eyes, Jimin parts his lips and wraps them around the base of Yoongi’s thumb, sucking off the spilt liquor.

Yoongi groans lowly, cheeks stained red as his eyes flutter shut in a mix of pleasure and humiliation. As Jimin makes his way through all of Yoongi’s fingers, bobbing his head obscenely and swirling his tongue, you think you see the empty glass wobble on Yoongi’s lap, like his cock is twitching in his pants. Fuck. It’s not even you getting the full weight of Jimin’s attention and you already feel dizzy with need.

Once he’s done, Jimin lets go and Yoongi’s hand falls limply to his side. Satisfied, he moves to the center of the room again, hips fluid with the flow of the music.

A cursory glance around the room shows that you’re not the only one heavily affected. Beside you Namjoon is restless, shifting back and forth from spreading his legs to ease the pressure, and clenching them together to try and hide the bulge in his pants. Hoseok looks pale, eyes wide and locked onto Jimin’s ass as he walks away from their couch.

On the other side, Taehyung and Jin are significantly more shameless; Jin rests a hand on the back of Tae’s neck and tugs at the curls of hair there as the younger boy ruts against his thigh, curled into his side even as the two of them focus on the attraction in the centre of the room.

You can only imagine how fucked out you must look too, wriggling against the couch cushion seeking friction with your heart thudding in your chest. The effect is only heightened when Jimin locks his eyes to you and begins to dance.

One day, a few of you were gathered in this very lounge, having enough drinks to get a bit silly and uncoordinated. Jimin had told you all a little bit about his dancing career. From what he’d said, you formed this mental image of him in soft makeup and satin shoes, dainty but powerful in front of an adoring crowd. The way he spoke about music - too much of a heavyweight to be as incoherent as the rest of you - made it seem like it was his greatest love, a match made in heaven.

Though now pirouettes and grand jetés had been replaced by spread legs and lidded eyes, you could still see that passion he spoke of. It enchanted you like a snake charmer or a siren, and arousal entwines endlessly with awe in your stomach.

After what feels like the shortest eternity, the music of the first song fades out, and Jimin straightens up, exhaling a breath like he’s releasing its hold from his body to make room for the next.

The tune that fills the room next has a decently higher tempo than the first one, each beat punctuated by a clap, and he grins when he hears it, stalking forwards.

Between Jimin and the rest of you is a coffee table, and he makes his way around to Taehyung and Jin, eyes sparkling at how Taehyung straddles Jin’s thigh, blinking up at the dancer owlishly.

“Oh, baby,” Jimin coos, “enjoying the show?”

Taehyung nods, not shy but too wound up to speak.

At the lack of verbal response, Jimin grins, perching himself on Jin’s other thigh, making the eldest hiss. “Taehyungie,” Jimin calls in a sing-song voice, fingers winding into his hair, just above Jin’s, “you still haven’t paid me for my services, you know?”

“H-huh?” Poor Taehyung looks barely coherent, interrupted from his grind and staring weakly at Jimin’s glossy lips. You can’t imagine you’d be faring any better in his situation. “What- How do I pay you?”

Jimin faux pouts. “Normally I’m very expensive,” he admits lowly, but the room is silent apart from the music, and since it’s just playing from his phone, it doesn’t impede the rest of you listening in. “But I like you. I’ll take my payment tomorrow. You know what I mean, right?”

Taehyung nods dumbly, obediently, making the dancer grin wickedly.

Fixing his attention on Jin, Jimin trails his fingertips up his thigh and traces the outline of Jin’s cock in his makes, making him groan. “Take good care of my baby tonight, won’t you?”

Jin sucks in a shaky breath, eyes darting to Taehyung, but the curly-haired boy just whines and buries his face in the crook of Jin’s neck, a wordless display. “You got it, Min.”

From the other side of the room, a click of the tongue catches your attention. Hoseok is straight-faced, extricating himself from the corner of the couch to stand up and make his way out.

Jimin swiftly stands in front of him to impede his way. “Where are you going?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes with a shrug. “I came, I saw, I sated my curiosity. I’m not interested in waiting in line to be fondled, thank you very much.”

Jimin seems to have forgotten the music, eyes gleaming as he faces off the dom. “Poor baby too impatient to wait, hm? I’ll let you jump the queue,” he finishes in a husky voice, grinning.

Hoseok eyes the doorway behind Jimin, huffing impatiently. “Nice try. I’m not interested.”

Tipping his head to the side, Jimin’s brows lift in a mix of surprise and bemusement. “I’m inclined to disagree,” he says, taking a step closer so that only a sliver of air parts them. Hoseok stiffens, stubbornly avoiding looking at the dancer. “I’d venture a guess that you’re leaving so suddenly because you’re a little too interested.” Slow enough that Hoseok has plenty of time to refuse, Jimin runs his knuckles all the way down Hoseok’s front, brushing over his crotch. His grin widens, flashing white teeth. “Hmm.”

Hoseok scoffs and pulls himself away, neck and forehead slightly red. “Don’t get too cocky. It was from Taehyung, not from you, peaches.”

Even from the other side of the room, Jimin’s instinctual reaction is clear as day. His shoulders drop and his lips part, lashes fluttering before he can control the response.

If you didn’t miss it, Hoseok certainly didn’t either. He barks out a laugh, back in power again, and steps to Jimin’s side to pass him. “Knew it. Don’t miss me too much, then, peaches.”

Even as Jimin is shuddering at the petname again, Hoseok rears his hand back to smack Jimin’s ass with a sharp noise of impact, Jimin jumping forward with a startled squeak. “No touching!” the dancer hisses, one ass cheek already flooding with a sweet candy pink.

“Apologies,” Hoseok says with a teasing grin, already at the doorway, “I’ll see myself out.”

Jimin makes an indignant cry, but the older man is already bouncing up the stairs cheerfully. Determined to get the sexy atmosphere back, Jimin takes a deep breath and turns back to you all with a rueful smile, but it falters when the music fades out, the second song ending. “Ah,” he murmurs, “show’s over, kids.”

Namjoon, the only guy that hadn’t received any personal attention, sits up with a frown. “Wait, already?”

Jimin shrugs, smiling at him sweetly. “Sorry, Joon. Last song’s a private dance. Maybe another time.”

A private dance. Your breath quickens as Jimin turns off the next song that randomly came up on shuffle, collects his phone, and hitches his coat off the floor with the point of a stiletto, gathering it under his arm.

The others quietly start to stretch, sit up, Yoongi going to fill up his glass again. By the time Jimin makes his way to you, Jin has already lifted Tae up with a single arm under him, carrying the younger upstairs as Taehyung sucks shamelessly at his neck. Namjoon is slower to move, probably still a little worked up and edged from the show, but he joins Yoongi in the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone.

Once Jimin is directly in front of you, your breath stops. He’s gathered the lightest sheen of sweat from dancing, or perhaps that’s just the highlighter on his cheeks, and his eyes are hazed from the excitement of performing. He silently reaches a hand out to you with an enticing smirk.

You furrow your brow in confusion. “Not here?”

“I did say private. Unless you want me to fuck you where everyone can see?”

You gulp at the thinly veiled threat. “We can go.” You take his hand and let him lift you up with effortless strength, pausing when he looks at you expectantly. “Did I do something…?”

Jimin beams like you’re a cute but stupid pet. “I haven’t been here before, remember? Show me to your room, sweetness.”

“Oh!” You rush past him, hands catching to guide him out and upstairs. The thrill of excitement speeds your steps, and in no time at all he’s placing his coat and phone on your desk, guiding you to sit on the end of the bed.

The third song starts with the familiar smoothness of Beyonce’s voice, an older pop song that holds up still, and Jimin slips off the black straps of the bodice, another set directly below them. Arms tucking behind him, he begins to undo the clasps one by one.

“You were being very well behaved, you know, sitting there and waiting for your turn,” he muses, fiddling with the fabric behind him. “Now you get a reward.”

You don’t know what to say in response, just nodding wordlessly, but it seems he is content with that. After a moment, you notice the top half of the bodice pull away from his chest lightly, revealing not plain skin but more lace, matching the panties that struggle to cover his cock. He approaches you as he undoes the last few at the base, and slips smoothly between your legs, letting it fall to the side.

In front of you in all his glory, Jimin looks gorgeous, the inky swoops of his tattoo peeking out from under a sweet black lace bralette, the skinniest straps holding up the delicate cups. In the center is a tiny black satin bow, and you think you feel your heart give out a little at the sight of it.

Even in his pretty lingerie, he’s no less intimidating, and you shudder at the feeling of his eyes locked onto you, feeding on your reactions and pinning you to the bed.

“You like it?” the dancer asks, voice rough with arousal. You nod quickly, still too stunned for words. Jimin hums, winding a hand around the back of your neck. “Show me how much you like it.”

Before you can suck in a breath, his mouth descends on yours, and a shot of electricity runs through you as he spares no time for pecks and caresses. This kiss is nothing short of filthy, his tongue runs over your teeth, he bites your lips, he sucks on your tongue. You do your best to reciprocate enthusiastically, but there’s no question who’s in charge.

With how deep and primal it is, there’s no surprise when you feel your shared spit begin to collect in the corners of your lips and run down your chin. Jimin doesn’t stop, but lowers his mouth to lap it up, pushing it back in and continuing to fuck his tongue into your mouth.

You moan hopelessly into the kiss, hips rocking on the edge of the mattress fruitlessly and fingers holding on to his neck and shoulder for dear life. His teeth are sharp, nipping mercilessly at your bottom lip until your eyes sting, but it only serves to drive more need.

The music in the background livens up as it reaches the chorus, and suddenly the thought of the song finishing and him leaving you high and dry comes to mind. You tug yourself away from him, sucking the spit off your swollen lip. “Jimin,” you gasp out, “I want you.”

Jimin grins. Though his gloss is all but gone, the colour on his lips remains intact. “You aren’t gonna let me finish my dance, sweetness?”

“Wi-Will you still fuck me after the song ends?” you ask, feeling stupid for needing confirmation.

Jimin lets out a soft but condescending coo, hands squeezing your cheeks together so that your lips pout. “Poor baby just wants to get fucked, does she? Baby just wants a cock in her.”

Even as he mocks you, you can’t even defend yourself. “Please, Jiminie.”

He places a single light peck over your protruding and obscenely swollen lips. “Let’s make a deal; I’ll dance for the rest of the song, and if you can keep your hands to yourself, I’ll let you cum when I fuck you. Sound fair?”

At this point, you’d agree to anything, and both of you know it. “I can do it,” you insist even as your voice wobbles.

Instead of answering, Jimin begins to move, following the momentum of the music. Your hands lie at their sides, the duvet cool against your heated flesh.

He starts out easy, stepping back to give himself more space and slowly lowering into a crouch, the heels making his calves pop. Running his hands down his chest, fingers slipping under the lace, he sighs out like his own touch gives him unspeakable pleasure.

You grit your teeth. Watching him touch himself just makes you want to touch him more. He widens his legs, showing the place where the lacy band narrows down below his balls into a thin string. Whether it’s the angle or just the amount of moving he’s done, the tip of his cock has nestled up higher, poking out just to the side of his hip. Shamelessly, he runs a single fingertip over it, tapping so you can see the clear strands of precum that cling.

You let out an unsteady breath, relaxing slightly as the song begins to build to the final chorus. Not long.

Unfortunately for you, Jimin recognises the changing keys as well as you do, and he stands up smoothly, slinking towards you.

Instead of settling between your knees this time, he turns his back to you and bends down, folding himself in half to fully bare his ass. Hoseok’s handprint still pinkens the skin of one, and the sudden desire to reach out and see if it’s as warm to the touch as it looks overcomes you. You hiss and fist your hands in the fabric of the duvet cover, making Jimin stretch up with a laugh.

Merciless, Jimin widens his stance, choosing to sit on top of your lap, ass grinding on you. You can imagine this movement would be much more unbearable for a guy, but you still feel your resolve unravelling, taken by the fluidity of his hips, the lace accuentuating his slender waist, the pressure of his head as he tips it back onto your shoulder.

“This is so unfair,” you complain shakily, and are rewarded with the musical giggle Jimin lets out, bubbling from his arched throat right into your ear.

Luckily, the chorus ends, and the final notes settle down. Jimin’s hips still and he turns his head, lips just about brushing your cheek. “Good job, sweetness,” he praises warmly, “can I have another kiss?”

Your jaw jerks automatically before you catch yourself. Though it’s fading out, the song technically hasn’t ended yet. “Not yet.”

Shameless even as his ruse is exposed, Jimin just beams and twist around so that he’s straddling you face-on. He lowers his mouth to your collarbone, nibbling at the skin there as the beat fades and the overlaying instruments peter out. Though it must only be ten or fifteen seconds, it feels like forever as he rocks himself against you just like Taehyung had done to Jin - albeit less desperate and more strategic - and licks at the bite marks on your neck.

Finally, it goes silent, and you exhale deeply, hands automatically coming up to rest on his hips as he laughs lightly at your successful efforts. “I’m impressed,” he admits, “guess you get your reward after all, sweetness.”

So relieved that the heat between your legs will get some attention, you barely take notice of him standing up off you, at least not until he slips his cock fully out of the panties.

His cock, straining with being left unattended so long, is a far deeper pink than the mark on his ass, particularly around the head. He sucks in a breath through his nose as he strokes himself, before blinking down at you.

“Clothes off if you want me, sweetness.”

You could guarantee you’ve never undressed so quickly before, frantically enough that your hips are hot from the friction of tugging down your pants. You take no note, however, just spreading your legs wantonly as you eye up his cock.

“Fuck, look at you,” Jimin curses, bracing a hand on your hip as he lines himself up. “Don’t even need stretching, do you? Looks like Joonie opened you up for me already.”

Your cheeks burn, but there’s not enough time to dwell on the embarrassment, as Jimin holds you down with his grasp on your hip and bottoms out in a single thrust.

Even though he’s right, the sudden fullness has you gasping a moan, almost falling onto your back. You prop yourself up and widen your legs further, eyes locked on the sight of his cock, nestled underneath by the lushest black lace, buried deep inside you. “Fuck, please move.”

“My pleasure,” he coos with a sweet smile, before the smile drops to a slack pout of lust, snapping his hips with a deftness that you now know is due to his background as a dancer.

You fight to keep yourself sitting up, one hand around the back of his neck as he fills you with every stroke, but the angle isn’t quite right, and you find your pelvis shifting to find it.

Jimin notices your frustration, and wordlessly pauses, grips your thighs and tugs you forward so that you’re flat on your back, ass over the edge and held up by his upper body strength. Without you even processing the change, he’s returning to his ruthless place, and you sob from relief at the way your insides come alive with pleasure, so much stronger than before.

“Fuck, right there! Right- ungh, yes, Ji-Jimin,” you pant out, feeling unbearably hot all at once with the intensity of it.

Though part of you is still sore from the scene you had with Namjoon earlier, your swollen walls only increase the drag of him against your sensitive tissue, and you quickly turn incoherent, tongue so thick in your mouth that you open it, panting as your fingers clutch the duvet to anchor you.

“That good, huh?” Jimin notes with a laugh stuttered by grunts of exertion. Normally, you’d protest or retort, but with your ankles wrapped around him and back arching off the bed, there’s nothing on your mind but the enveloping urge to cum.

Rather than reply, you just let yourself drown in the sensations, vision going black as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your orgasm comes so fast that you don’t even notice it approaching, can’t even warn him. It’s like a clap of thunder, making you go stiff with a scream before turning completely boneless, legs slipping down off him weakly.

Jimin curses as you squeeze around him, but fucks you through it thoroughly, only slowing down once you begin to fuss, shivering and wriggling away.

Dazed from the sudden onslaught of pleasure, it takes you a few moments for the fog in your brain to clear. Once you do, you glance down and realise Jimin is still achingly hard, dripping with your slick and the remnants of Namjoon’s cum, but none of his own. He strokes it lazily, gaze searching your face.

So exhausted from two intense scenes in one day, you don’t think you could manage to jerk him off or give him a decent blowjob, but to leave him hanging would be cruel. Instead, you fumble to slide yourself off the bed, landing a little too hard on your knees.

“What are you- oh, Y/n, fuck,” Jimin exclaims lowly as you blink up at him and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. He gets the message easily, speeding up his strokes as his tip bounces on your tongue, brief sparks of the salty tang of your shared arousal.

He must have been close before, because it doesn’t take him more than a minute to fall over the edge, cumming into your mouth with thick spurts. A shame it couldn’t have been inside you a different way, but you nonetheless chase his cock, blade of your tongue dipping into his slit to make sure you’d gotten every last drop.

Jimin swears lowly, stroking your hair back fondly as you swallow, and helps you stand up on wobbly legs.

Leading you to the bathroom, Jimin sits you on the closed toilet seat as he runs a bath. Having slipped off his heels somewhere back in the room, he unhooks his garters as he waits for the tub to fill. With one leg resting on the high edge of the tub, rolling down the fishnets one at a time, you once again are silenced in awe of his beauty.

It feels unspeakably intimate to watch him unclasp the bralette, slip off the panties, and slowly take his makeup off, easily locating the makeup remover he’d borrowed from you that very first night.

Your eyes sting a little as you’re reminded of that time. It feels like an eternity ago, even though it’s just under a fortnight. You’d thought he was so intimidating back then. Though he still had the power to command attention, you’d seen enough of the kindhearted, thoughtful and sensitive man beneath that the Jimin two weeks ago felt like a very different man.

“Water’s ready.”

You blink yourself out of that train of thought, letting Jimin help you carefully into the tub, joining you on the other side, legs tangled. “Thank you,” you manage to say, still feeling a little out of it after a tiring day and a good orgasm.

Jimin beams, glancing away to obscure some of his face. It’s clear to you that the lack of makeup has him feeling a bit vulnerable. His skin is flushed red - either naturally or from exertion you couldn’t tell - and his brows were softer, eyes looking smaller without the shadow that emphasised them. He wasn’t any less beautiful like this, just more human. Comforting, in a way, as he passes you a washcloth and begins to lather himself up in strawberry-scented bodywash.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jimin starts, but his voice sounds weirdly stilted and unlike him.

“Mm?”

“My, um, my…” He lets out a light cough, avoiding your gaze with an air of forced aloofness. “Granny keeps asking about you. She’s convinced we’re dating, but that’s, uh, I’ve assured her we aren’t. She really liked you, and whenever we chat she asks to speak to you, and, um…”

You feel more coherent than you have in a good couple hours, sitting upright. “She does?”

Jimin laughs ruefully. “I never really knew how to ask you if you wanted to speak to her, or if I should even ask you at all-”

“So you thought now, while we’re both naked in a tub after you fucking my brains out is the right time?”

Jimin’s cheeks colour more as he splutters. “You can say no, I just didn’t want you to… I don’t know. You can say no.”

You beam at him. “I have one rule.”

“What?”

“I’ll hang out with Mrs. Park on one condition.”

The blue-haired boy stares at you warily. “Which is?”

You lean forward with a deadpan expression on your face, making him grimace in worry. “You let me sleep in your bed tonight,” you explain gravely, “I’m running out of options for this Bangasm Bomb thingy, and it’s only fair after you just took me out of commission like that.”

Jimin laughs in relief, throwing his head back with a joyous grin. “Deal! Don’t scare me like that.”

You return his smile, heart swelling from the fondness you hold for him. “Of course I’ll chat with your grandma, Jimin. I love her. She reminds me of you a lot.”

You may have said too much, but Jimin goes lax against the opposite end of the tub, smile never leaving his lips, and you don’t regret it for a second.

1K notes · View notes

sickly-sweet-imagines · 4 years ago

Note

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG CAN YOU PLZZZZZ DO VALENTINES DAY DANCE HCS FOR KIRISHIMA, KACCHAN, DENKI, SHOUTO, AND MOMO PLZZZZZZZZZZ

YES OF COURSE I CAN!

– – – – –

Eijiro Kirishima

Kirishima is the most casual out of everyone

When he asks you to be his valentine you almost think he means it platonically at first

The only thing that makes you realize he’s asking you out on a date is how he’s trying to hide that his arms keep hardening from nerves

His excitement when you say yes is incredible, he gets motivated to do some wildly intense workouts with Bakugo while he tells him all about it

He’s still very casual when he shows up at your house on the morning of Valentine’s day, handing you a bouquet of flowers and some chocolate covered strawberries while talking to you like you were about to go workout together

It’s extremely endearing, especially when you notice that he’s fiddling with his shirt nervously and his voice will sometimes waver when he talks because he’s so nervous and trying to hide it

You take his hand once you get everything set down and you two go off on your date

He takes you on just about the cheesiest Valentine’s day date in the world

You have breakfast at some little cafe he found then he takes you to a local fair going on, bringing you to all the game booths to win you a prize from each one

He gets especially soft if he wins you a shark plushie because both of you know that you’re gonna compare it to him

It makes him blush anyway

The date doesn’t have many twists and turns, and it’s kinda cliche, but it’s the most perfect date you could’ve come up with and the more you show how much fun you’re having, the more you feel Kirishima loosen up and relax

He tries to kiss you at the end of the night but his arms harden too much for him to cup your face, so you kiss his cheek while he’s leaned over blushing before dashing back into your place

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo is not exactly fantastic at being romantic

He gets embarrassed easy and then he starts yelling to deal with the embarrassment

Asking you to be his valentine was very soft until Katsuki noticed someone watching the two of you and he turned bright red and started shouting the question instead

You said yes anyway, of course

You weren’t totally sure if he was going to do much on the day, so you tried not to get your hopes up too high- he never really came off as a romantic type, you figured the chances of him bringing you gifts or taking you somewhere special were slim

But when he showed up at your house early in the morning with a bouquet of flowers and box of chocolates you were very quickly corrected

You took the gifts just in time before he started getting antsy and his quirk acted up, getting the flowers in a vase and chocolates on the table before anything happened to them (the same couldn’t be said for your doorframe, but you weren’t too concerned about scuff marks on that)

He’s really sweet the whole day (even if he still teases you a lot)

If you two go out he’ll have an arm slung over your shoulders the whole time

You ask if it’s a jealous thing and he gets mad

(It’s totally a jealous thing- he’s gotta make sure everyone knows you’re his)

He kisses you at the end of the day and it’s obvious he spent the whole date building himself up to do it

Now that he’d done it, you were both going to spend the next several days thinking about it

Denki Kaminari

Yes Denki is a flirt

Yes he is going to use at least ten more pickup lines on you than usual on the day he plans on asking you to be his valentine

Shockingly he isn’t super grandiose with the proposal (but you’re pretty sure that’s just because Sero and Mina refused to hold a banner for him)

It’s still major flirting though- his goal is to get you blushing enough that it’s easier to say his genuine feelings without getting hit with any embarrassment or shame

It’s obvious that he’s gonna be going all out for it

But you don’t really realize just how all out he’s going until he shows up at your house with one of the biggest bouquets you’ve ever seen and a whole collection of gifts from the usual sweets to a necklace with a lightning bolt on it with a gift card to get a custom charm of your own design to put on it

He notices the shock on your face and chuckles in that slightly nervous way as he tells you that he wanted to make this really memorable and good

You melt more hearing him be so soft than you do at all of his flirting

Though there’s no lack of that, either

You guys spend the whole day wandering through parks and towns, Denki hadn’t planned things out too meticulously so you guys could just be together rather than worry about a schedule (definitely not because he didn’t expect to get this far and had zero ideas. No way)

If a stray cherry blossom falls early, he’ll catch it and put it in your hair or behind your ear and tell you how cute it looks

He really does act like a major softie for most of the date

He does kiss you several times though- the one at the end of the day is especially perfect and your lips are buzzing with electricity the rest of the night

Shouto Todoroki

Shouto is... Kinda clueless

He’s very unintentionally smooth but when he’s trying to be romantic he gets awkward

Asking you to be his valentine was very blunt

He said it so confidently and abruptly that you were caught off guard and wound up stuttering your yes

None of the confidence was real he was an anxious mess in his head the whole time

The whole room got a couple degrees colder while he was asking and several degrees hotter when you said yes

You found yourself getting nervous when the day came- was he going to take you somewhere fancy? Should you dress up? Would answering the door already dressed up be weird? Would it be weirder if he was dressed up and you weren’t?

He knocked before you could actually make a decision, so you opened the door in your pajamas and hoped the date wasn’t in a rush

The way he smiled when he saw what you were wearing was going to make you blush for weeks

Apparently this was perfect- as he gave you your flowers and candy he explained that you two had a reservation at some restaurant you’ve never heard of later that day and he was planning on taking you shopping beforehand so you could find an outfit you liked

You worried you’d look out of place in fancy stores being underdressed but he shook his head, reassuring you that you looked perfect

He told you to get whatever you wanted because it was all going on his dad’s credit card

It was a really nice date, even if he was too awkward to kiss you on the lips (you got a kiss on the cheek though, which was equally perfect)

Momo Yaoyorozu

Momo is more on the awkward side than the smooth side when she asks you

It’s not because she’s bad at romance, she just gets so nervous so easily and she likes you so much and what if you say no and oh gosh-

When you say yes you can see how much she relaxes

She doesn’t make your date a surprise like the others do

She wants to plan it out with you to make sure you both enjoy it (and tell you all of her hundreds of ideas so you can help narrow the options down)

Really, the two of you had like three Valentine’s days since you spent so much time planning your date out and spending time together that way

She, like Shouto, takes you too a pricey restaurant you’ve never heard of and takes you to buy a fancy outfit beforehand

The rich kids are pretty good at spoiling their crush, it seems

She brought way more presents to your door than you were expecting- flowers, candy, a stuffed animal, apparently she was really excited to spend time with you and wanted to give the gifts as a thank you

Before your fancy dinner date she insists you take her to your favorite places around where you live (she says it’s just because she wants to know the area you live better but you’re pretty sure she has another motive considering how you keep catching her staring at you with hearts in her eyes as you tell her about some store you like)

You’re pretty sure she has more fun than you do when you go shopping for an outfit

The hearts in her eyes are replaced with stars as she holds clothes up beside you and imagines how you’d look in them

To be fair it’s extremely cute and you’re pretty sure you just fell for her even more

At the end of the night she gets way too nervous to kiss you, so you kiss her hand instead before she goes

She’s still staring at her knuckles when you see her the next day

137 notes · View notes

mehbzz · 4 years ago

Text

Home

I had the sudden urge to try and write some hurt/comfort TLC with our A/B/O chocobros. An impulsive bit of writing that probably needs some editing but it fulfilled my itch! SFW, maybe 2 lines of mild suggestiveness. Just some snuggles and love.

You had dreamt about home. You had woken with an odd mix of guilt and sadness that had eventually dissipated and left you feeling muted and distant. You were aware you were bringing up the idea of getting home less often, and thinking about it even less so and whether by design or by accident your pack were also rather quiet on the subject. The fact that you had started internally thinking of them as your pack added another burst of guilt to your already fraught emotions. You knew the sadness was there, but you couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel much of anything that morning except a hazy cloud of brooding disinterest. Of course the boys had noticed immediately, the lack of privacy for your own feelings souring your mood further and after your fifth snapped response to their pestering they had quietly backed off. The day had passed in a majority of uncomfortable silence, you being dragged along with one alpha or another as they finished up whatever business they had in town.

You were all now sat in the diner around the corner from the hotel. You were staring blankly out the window at nothing, fiddling absentmindedly with your napkin. Gladio had ordered for you, after you had shaken your head silently at the waitress. Not really caring what he had asked for but the plate that was put in front of you had been a pleasant surprise. You weren’t aware Gladio paid that much attention to your eating habits but seeing your favourite food in front of you sent a small wave of grateful happiness through your low mood. “Thank you” your words are quiet and you offered him a small smile when he locked eyes with you. “You need to eat it all” his words are gruff and if you didn’t know better you’d think there was a light pink tinge to his cheeks. Before you can muster up the energy to tease him Prompto is pushing into your side. “You gotta try this” Holding up what looks like a fry dipped in his milkshake you eye it warily. “No thanks?” “Come on! Trust me it’s -”, a cough from Ignis has him lowering his offering in disappointment. “Aw man, you don’t know what you’re missing out on” He remains close to your side as you go back to your own food. You don’t feel particularly hungry but you can feel Gladio and Ignis watching you and you don’t have the energy to argue. You must have zoned out again as Ignis soft call of your name startles you. “Noctis is having trouble with his back this evening”, he repeats, “We were discussing delaying our trip for a day” You glance at Noct and you know immediately that’s it’s a lie but you don’t care enough to point it out or to wonder what they are up to this time. You shrug. “Ok” “A day off will do us all good” Ignis continues, watching you intently as he speaks but you just nod and give another quiet ok in response.

“It’ll be fun!” Prompto swivels back to you “I can show you some of the cool shots I got yesterday, there’s a couple of really funny ones of Noct when he – “ Noctis cuts him off with a low warning growl and you can’t help but smile at the playful threat. Prompto raises his hands in mock surrender before turning back to you. “First photos I’ll show you” he whispers before he continues his plan for the day. “Just chillin with some trashy TV and a pile of junk food,” he pauses and glances at Ignis, “uh, right Iggy?” Ignis stares at him before sighing “I will pick something up on the way back to the hotel” “Great!” Prompto’s enthusiasm is infectious and you find yourself nodding along as he continues his ideas for the day. Leaving Ignis to sort out the bill the rest of you start a slow walk back to the hotel. With Prompto and Noctis walking in front of you still arguing over whatever embarrassing pictures he had on his camera, you feel a little happier than you did before your meal but you still feel tense and oddly exposed, even with Gladio walking next to you. He steps closer, wrapping an arm round your waist to bring you tight into his side. He doesn’t say anything, which you are incredibly grateful for, just leans down to press a lingering kiss to your temple. Smothered into his side makes all your senses scream ‘safe’ and relaxing into his hold you are back at your hotel room before you know it. With another kiss he pushes you through the door with a sharp smack to your backside. He laughs at your reaction and lets his hand linger on your ass as he guides you in to the middle of the room. “Shoes off” The way he kneels down in front of you sends a mild buzz of arousal through you, which he notices, because of course he does, and he winks at you as you place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. “I think you like me down here” With your shoes off his hands glide up your legs to the button of your jeans and you roll your eyes in mock annoyance. “I can take my own jeans off” he ignores your comment and instead places a quick kiss to your stomach as he yanks the fabric down your legs.

Your protest turns into a yelp as Gladio hoists you up over his shoulder to deposit you unceremoniously on his bed. “Get comfy” your disappointment as you watch him walk into the bathroom is short lived as Noctis and Prompto instantly try to snuggle you down into the mattress with them. Your hiss of annoyance is half-hearted and they both ignore it. Noct slipping straight into his favourite position at your side, head resting against your chest while Prompto grabs the remote to the TV before laying his head in your lap. Noct’s usual technique at comforting you was an unusual method of ‘bothering you until you pet him’ rather than outright affection but the way he was purring softly as you ran your fingers through his hair was actually calming, you had to admit. And the knowledge of the little huff he would have afterwards when he noticed the state of his hair added a small boost of amusement to your mood. Although the way he noses at your nipple through your shirt has you groaning in slight annoyance. “Not now Noct.” You can practically hear the whine building up in his throat but he doesn’t push you further, just shifts until his head is resting comfortably on your chest.

The sound of the TV and Noct’s gentle purring lulls you in to a drowsy peaceful state. Prompto quiet murmur of your name has your attention drawn back to him. He wants to say something or ask you something, you can tell from the sudden flux of nervousness in his scent and you brace yourself. Instead he presses a quick kiss to your thigh that surprises a giggle out of you so he does it again. “I’m glad you’re here” his words are quiet, whispered against your skin in-between his kisses but the sincerity in them is obvious and you bite your lip to stop yourself from crying. “You are too, right?” His question hurts, and your thoughts from the morning come rushing back to you. You were glad, but the guilt at feeling like that was overpowering at times. You hum noncommittally in response, not trusting yourself to answer. Noct obviously notices your distress and his hand squeezes your hip briefly before reaching down to smack Prompt lightly on the head “noisy” he grumbles “I’m trying to watch this” Gladio’s emergence from the bathroom and rumbled demand of ‘move’ distracts Prompto from making whatever snappy reply he had, and instead he moves with a pout, clambering over you to sit behind Noct. As you move from under Noctis’ weight, Gladio is not even completely down before you are curling up into his side. “Where’s Ignis?” you can’t stop your hand from trailing over his bare chest, tracing over the edge of his tattoo lightly. “Probably talking to the hotel clerk, he'll be here soon.” Gladio’s hand slips up under your t-shirt to rest on your ribs and you shiver, trying to push yourself closer. His fingers tracing small circles into your skin “Relax baby, daddy’s got you” the word is new, and you do your best to ignore the way it makes your stomach flutter. He doesn’t complain as you hook your leg over his, content to let you wriggle and shift until you are comfortable, half lying on top of him. “Better?” You nod against his chest and he raises his hand to start stroking through your hair, mimicking your earlier position with Noct. “You’re allowed be happy“ Gladio’s words whispered into your hair take you by surprise and you bury your face further into his chest to try and hide your sudden rush of tears. He says nothing further and the quiet as he continues to stroke your hair is surprisingly soothing, the only noise over your quiet sniffles is the slight creak of the bed as Noctis and Prompto try to subtly move closer to you, offering you comfort and warmth against your back without saying a word. You must have dozed off after a while as the next thing you are aware of is the soft press of Ignis lips against your forehead. He sits on the edge of the bed next to Gladio’s quietly snoring form and the concern in his expression makes tears prick at your eyes again. He moves slightly, his hand brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. "Talk to me?" he asks softly. You’re silent for a few long seconds, not sure if you can explain your mess of thoughts and emotions well enough for him to understand

"I don’t…” your breath hitches and you try to swallow around the lump in your throat, “I don’t think about it much anymore” Its vague, and you don’t say any more, don’t clarify what you mean but Ignis seems to understand you. “Whether you do or don’t, it’s Ok, we still love you“ He brushes away another tear. He cups your face gently, and you turn into his touch with a shaky sigh. The outright acceptance of your jumbled emotions that you receive from the four of them is unsettling in the best way. You feel loved, and the tears begin anew at the realisation. In your own world, with your own family, you had never felt this level of belonging and acceptance. The guilt that maybe you didn’t actually want to return there was still prevalent, but felt less sharp than it had done. The look of alarm across Ignis face at your fresh tears makes you smile in faint amusement. “I’m ok” he looks doubtful at your claim and you fight back the mild hysterical urge to laugh “I am, Ignis, truly I am”. You swallow, wrestling your emotions back under some semblance of control and kiss his palm. “It’s just,” you hesitate “a lot. I’m not used to,” you gesture loosely between you “this” you give him a genuine smile this time, “but it’s getting easier” ‘This’ was a poor descriptor for describing the bond you felt as part of the pack. But Ignis seemed to know what you meant. He stills looks a little concerned but he leans down to kiss you, “You’re our omega” he reminds you. The possessive lilt to his words sends a happy shiver through you and you hum into his kiss in agreement.

Feeling vulnerable but a lot more stable, the adrenaline from the whiplash of emotions over the day has left you feeling restless and fills you with the sudden childish desire to annoy the man sleeping beneath you. You flick your finger sharply across Gladio’s nipple, snickering quietly at his sleepy annoyed grunt and at Ignis’ look of bemusement. He stands with an almost audible roll of his eyes just as you are considering biting down on the nipple closest to you. “I won’t protect you from the consequences of whatever foolish action you are thinking of taking” He watches as you bite your lip in thought before he turns away with a small huff of amusement “Those two are a bad influence on you”

“Hey,” as if summoned by the promise of trouble Prompto stirs behind you, poking you in your side. You twist in Gladio’s tight hold to try and look at him. “Noct is asleep” he gives you a mischievous grin and you respond automatically with a smile of your own even though you don’t know what he’s planning “wanna see those photos now?”

#ffxv #ffxv ignis #ffxv gladio #chocobros #a/b/o universe #fanfic

64 notes · View notes

too-kinky-to-live · 3 years ago

Text

buffet

yes i know i teased this fic months ago but i finally got it finished! this is a pregame oum.asai fic (feat. mutual stuffing owo)

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32253592

(based off a real experience i had in japan .3.)

Going out to a fancy restaurant was never a luxury Kokichi had.

Going to a standard sushi bar, however, was just barely within his reach. His new Danganronpa buddy, Shuichi Saihara, had invited him to dinner after watching the new episode. Shuichi was far better off than himself, so of course it would be no trouble treating Kokichi to a simple meal.

“Are you sure you don’t mind paying for me? I’ll try not to order too much if that’ll help…” the smaller one mumbled, not meeting the other’s eyes.

Shuichi gently put a hand on Kokichi’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. We’re just here to enjoy ourselves, and celebrate another great episode of the best show on television!” The purple haired boy gave a sheepish smile as the two walked into the restaurant and took their seats. A myriad of images flashed onto the screen on the wall next to their booth, showcasing the delicacies available to them. Such a variety was new to Kokichi, to the point where it felt overwhelming. Meanwhile, Shuichi wasted no time in selecting numerous plates of sushi.

Truthfully, there was another reason Kokichi wanted to come. There was something special about watching Shuichi eat - the glimmer in his eyes and genuine smile when he bit into his favorite foods. His calmness was contagious and made the normally anxious Kokichi feel at peace with him. (And, well… it was nice for Shuichi to focus on something other than Danganronpa, for once.)

It didn’t take long for the sushi plates to slide along the wall’s conveyor belt, accompanied with a cheery chime. Five small plates containing two sushi pieces each were grabbed hastily by Shuichi and placed before him. Faster than Kokichi’s eyes could keep up, a piece of tuna sushi was popped into the blue haired boy’s mouth. Shuichi grinned and chewed a bit, before giving a hearty gulp.

“Aren’t you gonna order something?”

Kokichi was snapped out of his stupor by the sudden question. “Y-Yeah, I’m still deciding.” Although that was easier said than done, considering his picky nature and the unknown options displayed. Settling for a couple plates of salmon sushi and a can of Panta, he placed his order and tried his best not to stare at Shuichi, who effortlessly wolfed down four of the five plates in front of him. The taller boy’s appetite never failed to amaze him. It was… cute.

And there it was. It was getting harder for Kokichi to conceal his odd crush on Shuichi, given the circumstances. Watching someone eat so much wasn’t supposed to be cute, was it? He should be disgusted at the other’s brazen disregard for manners, but such an emotion just didn’t exist in this moment. It was mesmerizing, in a way. Just as Kokichi’s order was arriving, Shuichi casually ordered another 3 plates of varying sushi.

“You okay, ‘Kichi? Your face is red,” he asked, taking a swig of water.

The smaller boy hurriedly rubbed his cheeks in a futile attempt to cover his blush. “It’s just hot in here, that’s all.” Shuichi said nothing in response, but he could have sworn he saw a smirk on his face.

Shuichi was on to him, wasn’t he?

Kokichi grabbed his plates and drink and stuffed a piece of sushi in his mouth. He was caught off guard with how fresh it tasted. He was so used to measly cafeteria food, he couldn’t help but smile. No wonder Shuichi was fixated on this stuff. By the time Kokichi finished his first plate, his friend had already cleaned his three new plates. The smaller boy’s mouth was slightly agape as he watched him lean forward to order a small bowl of ramen. Shuichi plopped back in his seat with a satisfied smile, resting his hands on his stomach.

Kokichi couldn’t help but feel bad about his pace. Maybe he wouldn’t be so scrawny if he ate like his friend. With this new resolve, he shoved the rest of the food in his mouth and took a gulp of soda. Shuichi’s bowl had arrived just then, with the taller boy taking it off the conveyor belt.

“There’s no need to rush,” he laughed softly. “Your food isn't going anywhere.”

Kokichi looked up with a smirk. “Same to you, Shu.”

Shuichi shrugged, but bounced back after a slurp of his noodles. “Dude, you gotta try this!” Kokichi foolishly expected his friend to let him try his, but Shuichi was already scarfing down the bowl. He chuckled quietly before ordering a bowl of his own. The smaller boy was comfortably full, but who was he to deny indulging his best friend? Surely he could handle a small helping of ramen.

The taller boy went on to order a few more plates along with some side dishes while babbling on about the new episode. Kokichi listened intently as he ate the delicious ramen, finishing his drink straight after. By the time he finished, though, he felt a tightness at his belt. As discreetly as he could, he went to unbutton his pants. He was relatively shocked to see a small lump formed under his uniform. It was such a strange yet warm feeling. Placing his hands on his newly formed belly, he rubbed at it a little.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Shuichi lean in slightly. “Hey ‘Kichi, you want dessert?”

The smaller boy looked up and blinked. “You’re still hungry?” Just how big was his crush’s stomach capacity?

“Sorta, but I want to share it with you. You’ve still got room, right?” he asked.

Kokichi looked down at his stomach, as if he could feel it voicing complaints about the prospect of more food. He did see a delectable-looking slice of strawberry cake on the menu, and he knew he’d regret passing it up. Of course, he also didn’t want to disappoint Shuichi. That was far more important in his eyes.

“I think I’ll manage,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

Minutes later, and the cake slice arrived. Despite his fullness, Kokichi felt a bit of drool form around his mouth as he took in the sight before him. A slight strawberry drizzle coated the top with a zigzag design, with a large strawberry sitting atop the back. The filling consisted of vanilla and more strawberries with a rich, creamy icing. Shuichi used his fork to slice it in half, giving the larger portion to Kokichi. Having a dessert like this would be a piece of cake, literally.

...Or so he thought, until the last bit of strawberry sat on the plate in a taunting manner. His tummy definitely wasn’t happy with him at this point, but he was too far in to give up now. Slowly, Kokichi lifted the piece and brought it to his mouth, easing it in. The strawberry went down with a hard swallow, causing the smaller boy to lean back with a light moan. His fingers curled around the now-open seams of his uniform, feeling the shirt underneath. Kokichi's body was practically begging for a nap, and all the warm food inside him felt heavenly. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so at peace; but that peace was quickly interrupted by excess air rising up his throat. He quickly moved a hand up to his mouth to stifle a small burp before closing his eyes and leaning back once again.

He peeked an eye open to see Shuichi’s twelve clean plates stacked neatly to the side along with his empty bowl and water glass. The taller boy was also panting a bit, seemingly fiddling with his own pants button.

“Guess we’re both *urp* done, huh?” Shuichi asked tiredly. Kokichi could only nod in response.

After a few minutes of struggling to stand, Shuichi paid the bill and the two headed out into the cool, quiet evening. The smaller boy finally got a good look of the damage on his crush, and… wow. Shuichi almost looked pregnant with how much he packed into himself. Kokichi’s belly looked so small by comparison, it made him look like he was exaggerating. He had never eaten so much in his life, he felt as though he would pop at any moment.

Shuichi, however, seemed to be taking it in stride. “Man, that hit the spot! Guess watching Danganronpa really works up my appetite,” he sighed, giving his soccer ball belly a firm pat. Giving a brief look at his stomach, he suddenly looked at Kokichi with regret. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I probably looked like a pig…”

Kokichi shook his head. “Not at all! You’re not gross. I, um, liked it a lot,” he blushed. For once, Shuichi returned the blush. “That’s a relief. I gotta confess something too, though.”

The smaller boy looked at him curiously. “I wanted you to have a lot because you look so frail… I’m really worried about your health." He looked away, putting a hand behind his head sheepishly. "Er, sorry, that sounded rude didn’t it? I didn’t mean it like th-”

“It’s okay, Shuichi. Thank you,” Kokichi gave a gentle smile, placing a hand on the taller boy’s warm stomach. “I’d love to go out with you again sometime.”

Shuichi gave a large smirk. “So it’s a date, then?”

Against all odds, Kokichi’s face became even more red. The blue haired boy merely laughed, bending down slightly to give a peck on Kokichi’s cheek.

“See you after school tomorrow, ‘Kichi.”

#stuffedronpa #forgive me for i have sinned #lol jk #we need more mutual stuffing fics so heres my contribution <3 #pora's fix

40 notes · View notes

maxineswritingcenter · 3 years ago

Text

Bragger - Dean x fem!reader part 2

Suggested by @rileynicole1967 based on the song Bragger by Kelsea Ballerini.

(Y/N) stared the vampires down, wishing that she had at least some sort of weapon on her.

“Stay behind me.” She told her parents, trying to keep an eye on all three of them.

“Listen here, you buncha hooligans” Her dad, pulled her behind him as she protested, “I don’t know who you vampire wannabes think you are but you need to get out of my house.” Dad’s big head was going to get them all killed.

“Don’t be the hero, old man.” The one in the middle looked around him to (Y/N).

“So, where is Dean Winchester?” He asked, “We got a couple questions for him.” Dad looked back at her, hands on his hips.

“They’re here because of him? He just keeps getting better and better.” He complained.

“(Y/D/N)!” Her mother glared.

“What? Are you trying to defend him?” He asked. The lead Vampire and (Y/N) made eye contact. He raised his eyebrows are her as if he were asking if they were really like this. She nodded, shrugging her shoulder. The vampire let out a deep breath. He reached forward, grabbing her father by the neck and lifting him in the air. (Y/N) and her mother reached out but were stopped by the henchmen.

“Old man, I think it’s about time you stopped talking. Man alive, if my daddy was anything like you I woulda killed him faster.” Her father’s eyes widened, swinging his feet back and forth.

“Put him down, it’s me you want, I can get Dean here.” She pleaded.

“Oh I know you can, sweet thing. I’m just wanting a quick bite.” His sharp teeth came down from his gums. Dad’s eyes widened even more.

“Then wait until you get Dean.” (Y/N) reasoned, “You capture Dean and eat them as a reward.” The vampire thought a moment then nodded, setting Dad back down on his feet.

“You make a good point. Why don’t you give him a call?” He tossed me my parents landline.

Dean his just been mindlessly driving around the small town, watching the locals go in and out of shops and restaurants. This didn’t seem like a bad place to grow up. Didn’t seem like a bad place to live. He wondered if (Y/N) ever wanted to come back here.

His thoughts were broken from his phone ringing, from a number he didn’t recognize. But this was the phone designated for hunters so it was someone he knew.

He hit answer, pressing the phone to his ear, “You got Dean Winchester.”

“Dean, it’s me.” (Y/N)’s voice crackled over the phone.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry-”

“Oh it’s fine. Don’t worry about the vase. Accidents happen.” He quickly glanced at the phone.

“What?”

“I know that you accidently knocked over my grandparents urn, but all has been forgiven.” Grandparents urn had been their code for vampires.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, starting to turn his car around.

“Oh and before I forget mom and I are gonna start making your favorite - red velvet cake.” She said gleefully. That was bad. Red velvet cake was code for hostage situation, need back up now.

“I’m on my way.” He gripped onto the steering wheel, hanging up the phone.

(Y/N) set the phone down and sighed, “He’s on his way.”

“Excellent.” The vampire reached out, holding onto her chin. His hands were ice cold, cold as death.

“I may just turn you. You seem to understand when you’ve been beat.”

“You get your dirty hands offa her!” Her mother shouted, struggling against the restraints they had been put in. While on the phone, her parents had been strapped to chairs from the dining room table.

“Lady,” The vampire pulled his hands away, “I really don’t like hearing lip from a lush.” Her mother gasped.

“You can’t talk to her like that-” Before her dad could continue, they were both gagged by the henchmen.

“Now...” The leader turned back to (Y/N), “Why don’t you let us have a taste, huh?” The vampire grinned, stalking forward. (Y/N) stepped back. He laughed.

“Aww sweetheart, don’t play coy.” He nodded for his other henchmen to move forward. The lacky came forward, grinning. As she backed away, her hand brushed the side of her bag. She stopped, subtly grabbing the syringe of dead man’s blood she kept there. When he got close enough, she popped the top and slammed the needle into his neck. He cried out and back away, stumbling back into the wall, holding his neck. He slide down the wall. The other lacky came around.

“Hey!” The henchman kneeled down and looked over his partner, “Deadman’s blood.” He stood up, stomping towards (Y/N), “YOU BITCH!” He stopped mid step, eyes wide. In front of the eyes of her parents and the lead vampire, the henchman’s head slid off and landed on the floor with a sickening thud. His body followed. In his place stood Dean with a machete.

“I told you those syringes work.” He grinned.

“Is now the right time for you to tell me ‘I told you so’?” She said in an exasperated voice.

Dean looked from her to the two vampires still alive, and the lead vampire looked pissed, “Right.”

The lead vampire growled, rushing Dean. Dean swung.

Dad and Dean drove the pickup truck to the dump with a trap covering the back end. Mom and (Y/N) followed in the Impala. Mom was fiddling with her fingers, very clearly having things on her mind.

“He’s not a fireman, is he?” She asked.

“(Y/N) shook her head, “Nope.”

“And he isn’t volunteering at a youth shelter?”

“Nope.”

“And you’re not a lawyer are you? You do what he does, kill monsters.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, “Yeah.”

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell us-”

“Would you have approved?” She cut off her mom, “What was I supposed to tell you? That I dropped out of school and started hunting monsters? You would have had me committed.” When they made it to the dump, Dean and Dad had parked and opened the back of the truck. They were grapping the garbage bags of bodies and started a pile. Mom went to open the door of the impala.

“I wouldn’t, the smell is the worst.” At her words, mom took her hand off the handle.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Mom asked.

Dean and (Y/N) father loaded the last of the vampires bodies off the truck and into the pile. Out from his jacket pocket, Dean brought out a flask of lighter fluid and a book of matches.

“So, what if the cops find this?” (Y/F/N) asked.

Dean shook his head, “These bastards burn to dust. All they’re gonna find is burnt plastic.” He dumped the lighter fluid on the pile, then lit the matches, tossing the book on the pile that went up in flames. They both stared in the flames in silence.

“You married my daughter?” Her father asked. She must have told him when he left.

“I did.”

“Where’s her ring?”

Dean ran his thumb over his ring ring finger where his mother’s ring had been, “I proposed to her my mother’s. She wore it around her neck today so you didn’t see it and get upset that you weren’t invited.”

“Well, I am upset.”

“Sir, with all due respect and believe me I’m trying to even give you the respect that (Y/N) would want me to, I wanted to invite you, my brother did as well. But she didn’t. She didn’t want to continue to bring you into this lie, bring you closer to her so that you would be in danger.”

“She’s in danger being around you.” He sneered.

Dean glared, “Don’t you think I told her that?” That seemed to surprise him, “I told her that I wasn’t safe, that what I do wasn’t safe for her. I love your daughter, it killed me to push her away.” Dean looked back at the flames, “But she’s stubborn. Must get that from you.”

(Y/F/N) smiled a little, “Yeah, she’s a rock, ain’t she?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, “Alright, I’ll allow this... But, you guys gotta visit once a year. At least.”

“You gonna keep giving me crap?” Dean asked, looking at her father’s out of the corner of his eye. Her father thought a moment, sticking out his bottom lip.

“I’ll keep it to myself.”

Dean hummed, “Deal.” They shook hands.

“Bye, sweetie.” Mom grinned, hugging her. She was dressed head to toe in cleaning gear to start cleaning up the blood.

“Mom, I said I would help.” (Y/N) started.

“No, no, you need to get on the road. That’s a long drive back to Kansas.” (Y/N) hugged her dad. He pulled away, holding her cheeks in his hands.

“Now there’s my happy little girl.” He smiled. (Y/N) tightened her lips, tears in her eyes.

“Dad, come on.”

“Hey, hey, no tears, Mrs. Winchester.” Dean, who managed to get out of her mother’s arms and came over, shaking her father’s hand.

“I’ll call when we get home.” (Y/N) said as Dean walked her to the car.

After a few hours on the road, (Y/N) started feeding Dean cookies to help him stay awake on the road.

“These are so good.” He hummed around a bite. She giggled and fed him another cookie, he nipped at her fingers. She laughed, taking the cookie and biting it. With one hand on the wheel, the other hand taking hers, looking over her her left hand where her wedding ring was.

“I hated that you didn’t have this on all day.” He said softly.

“I know, Dean-Bean, but I was just afraid of what they would say.”

Dean chuckled, “I understand why. Your dad is so intense.”

“I know I’m sorry. But at least we don’t have to lie anymore.” She sighed, resting her head on the window.

Dean looked over, then back at the road, “Well, we die lie about one thing.” He poked her stomach.

----------------

Thank you everyone for reading, I’m sorry part two took so long. I just got caught up in another fic.

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated!

Comment or message me below to be added to the general tag or a SPN tag.

@happy-little-winchester

@hobby27

@tranzfred

@vicmc624

@ria132love

@lilulo-12

@teenwaywardasgardian

@tloveswriting

@mikrokosmicjoon

@calaofnoldor

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fic #maxineswritingcenter

31 notes · View notes

jiminsfault · 5 years ago

Text

Gamin’ for love 0.2 | jjk

— pairing: gamer!Jungkook x escort!reader

— genre: 18+ / smut, angst, fluff

— word count: 13.5k

— summary: if love was a game, even Jungkook wouldn’t know how to win. Ordering an escort might help.

— warnings: sex work, oral (m & f receiving), daddy!kink, awkward tension, emo!jungkook, pining, verbal and physical abuse, threats, manipulating and controlling behavior, harassment, implications of taehyung x reader, mentions of smoking, angst (like a lot), tears, jungkook and y/n are idiots in love, fighting (not fists, just words), implied panic attack(?), implied physical abuse, language, lots of love, soft!Jungkook, degradation, spit kink, name calling, slight spanking, tiny bit of aftercare, lOVe

— thank you so much for beta reading this! @shadowsremedy @meowxyoong you guys really pulled through and saved my ass!! Also @interludemoonchild thank you for helping me decide stuff!

— A/N: I’m really sorry it took me half a year to finish this fic!! I’m a clown but I finally got it done and I’m so happy and proud of it, gfl really is my whole heart so I hope you’ll enjoy reading it!!

moodboard | part one | part two | masterlist

When you rang the door to Jungkook’s apartment it wasn’t long until the door swung open, in front of you Jungkook, wet with only a towel around his hips. His eyes were big and his breath a little rushed.

“You’re earlier than expected.” Is what he greeted you with. It wasn’t unfriendly, just surprised, a smile gracing his face full of cheeks and teeth.

“Yeah, Bunny gave me a ride,” you explained, “she’s a colleague.” Jungkook nodded in understanding and made an overdramatic move to beckon you in, that made you grin widely.

As you walked through the door, you see the living room again, this time in the light of the day. The setting sun shined through the slightly closed blinds that were covering his windows.

“It’s pretty in here... really simple and minimalistic,” you throw into the quiet. You could see Jungkook fidgeting, scratching his neck.

“Yeah, it’s…” he thought about his words a little. “An interior designer told me it’s the latest trend...so...” he trailed off. The atmosphere was awkward, the air tense and heavy around both of you. Jungkook moved around in the background, the black TV screen showing you a blurry image of his silhouette when you sat down on the couch.

He moved around the room and clicked things on his computer, when he cautiously tried to start a conversation. “You want to watch TV? Eat something? I only have instant noodles though…” you let out a breathy giggle, as he trailed off and turned around to face him over the couch.

“Some dick would be fine too, don’t you think?” Your response made him laugh and he nodded. “Right. Hold on, just gotta do something. I didn’t think you’d be over this quick, so I didn’t get a chance to, you know...prepare,” he chuckled.

The clicking stopped and he walked over to the couch, still in his towel, hair slightly dried, but overall wet. As he sat down you didn’t have it within you to not stare at his body, muscles well toned and broad. His thighs, that so deliciously spread open, are big and you’d gladly suffocate between them. He noticed your ogling and blushed slightly. When he went to say something, his voice got stuck in his throat.

You groaned. “Why are we so awkward?” Laughing it off seemed right and Jungkook joined you.

“Ah...I’ve just never done it like this...usually I’d never have sex outside of a relationship and we don’t know each other well yet, so...” trailing off once again, he shrugged his shoulders.

You nodded and scooted closer to him, deciding to defuse the awkwardness. You put your hand on his knee, you trailed your hands all over his muscles, higher towards his towel. “Can I take this off?” You asked with a glint in your eyes.

Jungkook wasn’t good at hiding his nervousness, that was for sure. His Adam's apple bobbed with a big swallow and quickly he whispered a shy, “yes, please.”

His hands were clammy as he fiddled around with the cushion of his soft couch. You’ll never be able to not coo at him. Even when he sat here, in all his golden glory, he was able to make you smile with his hesitation.

Slowly you went on your knees, between his legs and you slid your hands up his well built stomach to touch his cute, dark nipples. You pinched each, Jungkook gasping with a high pitch and clenching his hands laying next to him.

Letting your hands roam around his body, he leaned back into the pillows and breathed out, finally relaxing a little. Smiling, you smoothed your fingers over his pecks, down his body again and curled them into his towel teasingly. Moving the soft fabric down just a little, more skin revealed itself to you.

You licked your lips in anticipation, remembering how his dick stretched you out just last week, ruined you for all the other customers. You weren’t able to walk properly for three days, still felt him inside of you. You couldn’t wait until he would thrust inside of your mouth and throb on your tongue.

He raised his hips to make you hurry up and take off his towel. His eyes pleading as he laid a hand on your soft cheek. “Just suck me off already, baby...” he almost let out a low whine, barely catching himself.

You hesitated, this seemed somehow off. The dominant Jungkook from last week nowhere in sight and his soft touch on your cheek had you anticipating what he was going to do next.

His eyes hardened as he lifted his hand and let it collide with your face, just softly enough to make a clap, not hard enough to sting. He was testing your waters, seeing how far he could go with you. A smile sneaked itself on his face, not the cute toothy grin, just a dangerous smirk.

“A week is kind of a long time, huh? Do I need to remind you who’s in charge here?” He snarled. His dominance appeared out of nowhere and almost gave you whiplash. Of course, it made sense. He made it seem like you could be in charge and quickly changed his mind when you didn’t comply. Through the harsh demeanor, you could still tell that he wanted your consent for this, not sure if he could just suddenly slip into this dominant act.

“Hmm, maybe you need to put me in my place, Daddy.” You purred. A low growl was building up in Jungkook’s chest, he pursed his lips a little and clicked his tongue.

“Such a fucking slut,” he groaned and pulled his towel completely off, his dick already hard and standing. Precum was oozing out of its slit and slowly trickling its way down his head. Your pussy clenched at the sight of it, felt the phantom pressure of his shaft inside your walls. “Come suck me off, now.”

The authority radiating off of him turned you on beyond belief and without hesitation you moved forward, closing your hand around his length. He breathed out, moving his hips around to get comfortable and laid his hand on top of your head. You were able to tell that he wanted you to just take him in already, putting a little pressure on and pushing you forward. Never too much, though. He still respected you too much to mistreat you.

You went down and took him in, licking along his shaft and paying attention to the grunts he made. When you suckled around his tip and flicked your tongue across his slit, he tugged at your hair particularly hard.

It felt good, he liked it when girls went down on him, but at the same time, it didn’t feel right. Jungkook would’ve hoped for you to maybe just watch a movie and eat with him. He wasn’t really up for sex, but he couldn’t take head from you and then bail. The thoughts made his dick deflate a little due to his growing discomfort. You assumed you were doing something wrong, given his reaction, and tried harder to get him up again.

But Jungkook only went softer. “Babe, this isn’t working today. I’m sorry,” he said, sounding off and stressed about something.

Curiously, you looked up at him and decided to sit back on the couch. “What’s got you thinking so much, handsome?”

Your question made him flush a faint pink, averting his eyes down. “I just...my mind’s not there. Sorry.” He threw his head against the back of the couch and grabbed his towel to cover his now limp dick.

“You don’t have to apologize, Jungkook. It’s fine, I’ll just take a cab ba-,” he scrambled up and interrupted you with his hands on your shoulders. Your mouth stood open and you leaned your head to the side in question.

“You don’t have to leave, we can just talk for a bit. I’ll pay you for the full time,” he hushed. A little confused, you raised your eyebrows and rose up from your knees to sit next to his side.

“Jungkook, I’m not here to be your friend, you know that.” Your statement was clear and he stilled, gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Please, I really want some company. I could eat you out?” He suggested. You felt bad for him, he seemed troubled and you wouldn’t be able to leave him alone like this. Your soft spot for him was already too present.

Breathing out heavy, you nodded, slapping your hand on his biceps. “Alright, get dressed and I’ll stay for a bit. Only an hour though, and you have to pay me, still. This is work time I’ll be spending with you.”

So that’s what you did, cuddling into his couch and selecting a nice series to watch when he came back with sweatpants and an oversized shirt. The TV noise started to blend into the background, neither of you paying attention to the screen and rather talking to one another.

Jungkook caved in to tell you what was bugging his mind, after long convincing of him. He revealed that his ex girlfriend contacted him again, not in a good way at all. She talked down on him in a way he didn’t specify, but you could already imagine enough. The poor boy seemed like a little puddle of sadness, talking about the rude girl and how she broke his heart three years ago.

He told you about how he only concentrated on video games to start his career and didn’t prioritize her, which made her seek the attention elsewhere. His voice cracked at a point and he stood up to get water. It was obvious that it still hurt him.

He mentioned, once his voice was smooth again, that that was the reason why he seeked out an escort. Not wanting to risk getting hurt again, he settled for an unavoidable way to not catch feelings. Through his story, you could still tell that he was seeking company, clear to see in the way he asked you to stay, willing to pay without using your services.

Once he exhaled, done with his narrative, he went quiet. “Please tell me something about you, otherwise I’ll panic about how much I just overshared and embarrassed myself.”

You chuckled airly, nodding and preparing yourself to spill your own story. He didn’t expect to hear about your manipulative ex, who you still lived with. It made him livid — to hear about the restrictions and daily struggles your ex was causing you.

He was expressing how much he desired to kick his ass, before he calmed down and carried a more sincere expression. “You need to get out of there, Y/N. You can’t possibly consider staying with that prick!” His voice was now collected, not laced with the irritation that he felt just a moment ago. It showed how much he considered your feelings, knowing that good advice was better instead of pointless anger.

Even though you knew he was right, you couldn’t just decide to leave, without considering all the different aspects that would come with leaving your job.

Realizing how much time went by, you straightened up. “Uh, I really have to go back now. If you won’t fuck me, I’ll leave,” you murmured. If your boss would find out about how you spent your time chatting with a customer, instead of doing your job, you couldn’t imagine what the consequences would be.

You felt awkward, mentioning your profession in a heartfelt conversation. The atmosphere was broken and he rasped his throat, sitting up as well. “Yeah, right. I’ll…let me get my wallet.”

Motioning for him to stop, you shook your hands in front of you. “No, no. Not necessary. I...really enjoyed spending time with you, Jungkook. Let’s not change the memories of today. This was just us, hanging out. Alright?”

He looked you in the eyes, seeing if you were sure of it. “Let me at least give you money for a cab?”

Biting your lip, you nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, alright,” you breathed. His gaze went down to your lips, he exhaled shakily. Reaching his hand up to your cheek, he pulled your lip from between your teeth with his thumb.

He leaned in, holding eye contact and flicking down to your lips again. Clammy hands, you waited for him to meet you, leaning in yourself. It was a soft kiss, he barely put any pressure in it. You could still taste the faint strawberry flavor of his lip balm and felt the softness of his lips.

Surprisingly, it didn’t make it awkward. You smiled at him, stood up and went to get your shoes while he got his wallet.

“Hey, uhm...before you leave, can I maybe have your number?” He suddenly asked, collecting all his bravery and holding his breath.

With a cheeky smile, you asked, “private or work reasons? Because I’m not allowed to give clients my private information.” He grinned, scratching his nape.

“Private,” he said shyly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to see you again...not during working hours.” You giggled, nodding and holding your hand out for his phone. After tapping in your phone number, you saved yourself with a yellow heart and told him to call you. He assured you that he would very soon.

Before turning around to open the door, he handed you the money for your ride back and after thanking him for it, you took your leave with a smile on your face. With a weird, giddy feeling in your tummy, you went and waved a cab over, driving back to the club.

Over the next few weeks your phone had your constant attention, at home, on breaks and sometimes when you hid in the back of the club ‘to prepare drinks’.

Jungkook had the best humour and sent you the greatest memes, you had no idea where he got them from, but they always made you giggle. Sometimes he tried to flirt with you, but in a gentle, undemanding way, which made it cute and your stomach felt tingly. You’ve never had this, a guy showing interest in you for more than just your body.

You lost hours of sleep, texting him at night and once you asked why he was so active this late, he revealed that he was a professional gamer. He told you all about how he used to upload YouTube videos of him playing video games with friends. Always just for fun, until people started watching and his follower count rose through the roof.

Now he was mainly streaming on Twitch, even though he still uploaded the streams to the other platform. He stayed up late at night to cut the streams and edit them a bit, revealing his passion for video editing and photography while he was at it.

Sometimes you guys would have late night calls, you would listen to his voice and his tales about the latest games he reviewed. Once you told him about how much you loved to play video games yourself, it was a constant topic of your conversations.

At the beginning, he held back, not wanting to bore you with this kind of thing. The memory of his girlfriend and her hatred towards all video games flashing his mind. But with you shyly admitting that you always wanted to learn how to be really good at gaming, he couldn’t stop himself.

“You have to come over sometime, I’ll teach you how to get the best aim!” He exclaimed one time. You mentioned that you couldn’t play any video games at home, your boss didn’t want you to use his console and you didn’t have the money to buy one yourself.

Some nights you both fell into deep conversation about less fun matters, Jungkook insisting for you to find a job elsewhere and get out of your ex's apartment. You could only agree, but didn’t want to kill his hopes and tell him that nobody wanted to hire somebody with your history.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried before.

When the mood went more down the gutter, with time you started to reciprocate his flirting. Even sending one or two risky pictures of yourself, barely wearing anything. Jungkook could only groan when he looked at your body, looking gorgeous even just on screen. He’d prefer having the real version in front of him, but the pictures did what they were intended to do just fine.

He’d grip his half erect cock over his sweatpants and send it to you, telling you to finish what you started. You declined most of the time, giggling at home in front of your screen. Teasing was still the best weapon against a horny guy in his twenties, it always proved itself to be effective.

Only once did you give in, replying to him with all the things you wanted him to do to you. With the image of you, naked in his bed and moaning wantonly like you previously did that one night, he jerked himself off, sweaty and moaning your name.

But the sudden attention towards your phone didn’t go unnoticed by your ex. He side eyed you when you giggled at the screen, tapping away with a grin on your face.

“What’s got you all giggly, huh?” He asked, forgetting about the dinner that was in front of him on the table. His tone wasn’t teasing, not even happy the slightest. It was controlling and insistent, not giving you space to deny his question.

“Uhm…,” you fumbled. You couldn’t tell him that you were chatting with a client, but he wouldn’t allow you to have a relationship outside of your job, either.

“It’s just a friend,” you tried to lie. You looked at him with a careful expression to see if he believed you, but his scowl proved contrary.

“You don’t have friends, who are you talking to? Should I remind you of your place, whore?” His voice raised with the words and he ended it with the screaming insult. You ducked your head in, shying away from him and locking your phone. “Give me your fucking phone, right now, if you want to live to see the next day.”

His hand reached out for the phone, but when you tucked it back to retreat from the table, he stood up and grabbed your upper arm. “Who do you think you are, disobeying me in my own house like this?”

His grip on you was hard and he squeezed until you dropped the device and he finally let go, letting you pull away. With slow steps he walked around the table like a predator, eyes still on your shocked face and snatched the phone away, looking at the display to see Jungkook’s last message.

Gukkie [7.36 PM]: are you gonna come over tonight? Missing you.

“Do you really have to prove what a slut you are? Like I don’t already know?” He growled. Your crying blurred your sight so you only heard the slam of your phone on the table, looking up at him when he continued, “If you don’t want to end up on the street without a job, I’d suggest you to not test my limits.”

The words were final. He left the kitchen with a smirk on his face, proud that he put you back in your place. After he completely dismissed your crying figure, you could only hold your shaking figure as you sat in your chair, dinner getting cold in front of you.

You were splayed across Taehyung’s lap, bored from the conversation he and his company were having. Business usually wouldn’t be discussed in a club such as this, but Taehyung doesn’t realize these limits like others, uncaring about the location.

He pulled at his cigar and blew it away from your face, knowing how much you hate the smoke. He patted your thigh when you started to get squirmish, urging you to sit still.

Obediently, you straightened up, sighing. He gave your temple a barely there kiss, whispering into your ear, “getting impatient? Want me to fuck you tired and compliant?”

You whined, looking for his eyes, but he still had his gaze set on the man sitting on the couch across from him. The past few weeks, Taehyung was the only man accompanying you, so you had to keep him close. If he’d seek out another girl, you wouldn’t earn enough money to stay at your ex’s place. So it was natural for you to use your weapons, grinding on Taehyung’s lap until his sharp look made you whimper.

He noticed your advances and grinned, apologizing to his business partner, “I have to attend other matters now.”

Grinning, you stood up and dragged Taehyung up to the rooms. Usually, he wouldn’t put up with your behavior, hadn’t he told you before the conversation started, that he wanted you to give him a reason for an early leave.

This was going to be an extra big tip. Literally.

Before you could disappear up the stairs, your colleague called after you. “A client called and asked for you. Jungkook? He said you’d know who he was?”

She waited for your answer while you looked back at Taehyung. You really needed the money from him and your boss told you to separate private and work life, after he found out that you were conversing with a client.

“Uhm...I’m kind of not free right now?” You said sheepishly. Eying the man who walked a few stairs up, you bit your lip. You missed Jungkook, but you couldn’t risk your job. “Can you send someone else?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll just go myself? If you’re fine with me taking your customer?”

You nodded with half a mind, pushing the ugly thoughts to the back of your mind and rushed to catch up to Taehyung.

Jungkook wasn’t sure about any of this. When he called an escort and you came, he started to genuinely like you. Calling another girl over felt wrong, but he was lonely and didn’t know what to do when you disappeared. Not even ramen noodles, cheap beer and video games helped that.

His best friend was busy with deadlines and other friends weren’t in Jungkook's vocabulary. When you didn’t reply to his texts, he called the club, but you were busy. What was he supposed to do?

He would have to get the best out of this.

So he opened the door when the bell rang and let the woman inside. “I’m Candy, and you must be Jungkook?” The prostitute said with a wink and allowed herself to stride through his apartment. He swallowed the dread down and nodded, following her movements with his eyes.

“Come here,” she purred, patting the back of the couch and striding around it to sit down. He gulped loudly this time and touched his ears slightly, before walking towards her.

When he sat down, she caressed his thigh, scooting closer and putting her right hand into his hair. “What are you into, cutie?” She giggled.

What was with escorts thinking he would be submissive just because he was shy?

“A bunch of things, actually.” His tone was cold and distant, it surprised him. She didn’t seem to care or notice much, humming and moving in to kiss his jawline.

With a hurried move she pulled his face close and placed her lips onto his, starting to bite his lip and lick into his mouth. Candy overly exaggerated her moaning and moved her hand up to his crotch.

Before she could start to rub over the fabric of his jeans, Jungkook’s hand flew to hers and held it away from him. Pulling back, he removed her hand from his hair and looked like a deer caught in the headlight.

“I-...I can’t do this, I’m really sorry,” he whispered, his eyes filling with tears and his bottom lip wobbling.

She was taken aback, trying to read the situation, but staying clueless. “What do you mean?” She asked in panic, “what’s going on?”

“I just-,” he stopped, looking down at his hands laying in his lap. “I really like someone else and this feels...wrong. I’m really sorry.” His words shocked himself as well as her, trying to cope with the realisation.

She sat there, looking at him with a blank expression on her face. But Jungkook really couldn’t care about what she thought, he had just realized his feelings for a woman who was now ignoring him after seeming to be interested. He didn’t know what to do, he was lost and sad about liking you.

A tear slipped past his eyes and across his cheek, dropping onto his hand. He wiped it away quickly, moving to stand up. “I didn’t want to waste your time, I’ll still pay for the full hour. Let me get my wallet and then you can go back to actually work.”

He sounded heartbroken and even though she was only here for the money, Candy couldn’t leave him to be on his own, not like this. So she let the words slip, curiosity getting the better of her, “Do you like who I think it is? Because I noticed that she started texting someone and it was after she came back from yours last time, that she started to seem happier.”

Her words made him only feel worse, couldn’t believe how he made you happy, but you still decided to ditch him.

It made him legitimately start to sob.

He sat back down again with his hands over his eyes and shaking shoulders. “Ohh no! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t want to make you upset I-...” she trailed off, patting Jungkook’s shoulder.

“This is ridiculous!” He exclaimed, roughly wiping his tears. “I’m an idiot! I fell in love with someone who only saw me as a client and I took it too far!”

She kept moving her hand up and down his back and tried to calm him down.

In the end, after he collected himself again, Jungkook apologized for his breakdown. When he wanted to pay her extra, she waved him off, “you had to deal with my mess, it’s only fair!” he said.

But she insisted that she did it because she wanted to, she could’ve just left after he didn’t want to have sex. “You’re really sweet and I hope you’ll find a girl who appreciates it, but stop trying to get Y/N out of this. It won’t work,” she said, smiling sadly and turning to the door.

Jungkook sat down on his couch again, leaning back and looking at the ceiling. “I wish I could stop.”

Gukkie [10.28 PM]: Y/N please let me talk to you :(

Gukkie [11.57 PM]: Is it me? Did I do something wrong?

Seeing Jungkook’s messages hurt your soul, but you couldn’t respond. And you didn’t even want to. You couldn’t mean this much to him if he just went ahead and ordered another girl home.

You knew that he was just another client, but you still thought it meant more than just sex to him. Why did he even bother putting in the effort? If he wanted your body, he could have it for the money. He proved that when he went and fucked your colleague the moment you didn’t come around.

But you did ignore him for a few weeks now...and the fact that he still tried to reach you?

Maybe Jungkook wasn’t the bad guy you thought him to be. Maybe you were just doing this to get over the little tug your heart felt every time you thought of him. To make living here easier, get that bullseye off of your head, that your ex saw ever since he knew of Jungkook.

He had made it his mission to make your home a living hell and to keep you away from Jungkook. You didn’t know why you couldn’t just leave.

Maybe you were waiting for someone to save you. But that someone was buzzing your phone and you didn’t let him in.

You were too afraid.

A week passed with a lot of things on your mind. You were constantly thinking about Jungkook, how he still tried to reach out to you. You couldn’t understand his motives behind that, did he not realize that you knew of the other escort? If he thought you’d just forget about how he replaced you this quickly, he was wrong. Even though this was just work, it really did hurt you.

For most of the time, Taehyung had been visiting the club more frequently. He was still very keen on you and payed you extra most of the time, ‘for good company and good character’.

Everytime he left, your ex looked at you proudly. It made things easier for you at home. He let you eat in peace, sometimes even allowed you to sit and watch TV instead of growling at you to move to your room. When you thought you could live like this, Jungkook’s words sneaked into your head. Were you just trying to adjust to the situation or did it really get better?

Jungkook was right about telling you that you had to get out of this. Feeling yourself adjusting to living with your manipulative ex and selling your body wasn’t enjoyable, but inevitable if you were going to stay.

But how would you even manage to get away? Right now, you didn’t have any qualifications for a good job. And not much savings to even get a hotel room for a bit until you had an income and would get your own place.

“What’s taking you this long? It’s just a few drinks.” A voice boomed through the backroom you were standing in, facing the wall. It was Namjoon, one of Taehyung’s business partners, you could tell them apart by their voice easily. You didn’t bother with turning around when you heard steps and Bunny appeared as well.

“Y/N? Let me do this, there’s someone outside waiting for you.” Her tone was too happy for it to be a customer and you looked at her cheeky smile, once she arrived at the bar you were standing at.

She hurried you out of the back, alongside the tall man who complained. On your way to the entrance you walked past the booth Taehyung was sitting in, eyeing you with a questioning look.

Making an apologetic face, you shrugged and walked past, your heels clicking on the dark hardwood floor. Once out of the main area, you saw a man standing with his back to you, waiting. While he was obviously the one who asked of you, you couldn’t exactly tell if you knew him.

He was wearing a black hat, leather jacket and blue jeans. You couldn’t help the little spark of hope when you asked, “Jungkook?” Into the almost empty hall.

He turned around, dismissing the greek paintings hung onto the wall in favor of Aphrodite’s Erotes’ theme. Not knowing what to feel when you faced the man who’d been trying to reach you for weeks now, you reeled back a bit.

He hurt you, but you still missed him so much. Was this a pattern of yours? Falling for the men who hurt you the most?

“What are you doing here?” Your question made his little smile fall, his eyes growing when he saw your hesitant posture, ready to turn around and leave him there.

“I came here to see you, Y/N. You weren’t answering my calls or messages, I needed to see you.” His voice was soft, but still reverberated in the entrance hall.

“Well, I’m busy. You can fuck one of the other girls though, right?” You spoke sarcastically, your tone full of anger and demand. You crossed your arms in front of your chest and furrowed your brows. Jungkook opened his mouth to reply but his voice got stuck in his throat.

Trying to figure out why you were this angry at him turned out to be harder than he expected. “I’m not here for sex, Y/N. I really needed to-“

“This is a bordello, Jungkook. If you’re not here for sex, then leave.” He fished for words, taking a step towards you with worry in his eyes.

“This is his fault, am I right? He must’ve done something to you, you wouldn’t push me away like this on your own. I didn’t just imagine the way you looked at me.”

“Stop trying to solve me like I’m a puzzle! Stop contacting me and stop trying to act like you’re the innocent one here! You’re just the same as him, you lied to me and still act like you’d do everything for me! Go fuck someone else over, Jungkook.” Your voice became hoarse through half of your outburst and his eyes only grew, his mouth open because he couldn’t believe what you were saying.

“Y/N, I’m not trying to solve you, I’m trying to help and understand you. Please just talk to me! What did I do for you to bring me on one level with your asshole of an ex-boyfriend? When did I ever do any harm to you?” He gestured wildly with his hands in the air and walked closer to you, desperation in his eyes clear and he sounded really clueless.

“You fucked my coworker! Just because I wasn’t free for you to fuck! If you just wanted my body like everyone else, then why did you feel the need to go overboard and make me fall for you, Jungkook? Why do you have to hurt me when I’m already down?” Tears started to collect and you tried to fight them off. He gasped, quickly rushing over to your side and standing in front of you. You were holding yourself, trying to contain your shaking and felt small against his tall, broad frame.

“No, Y/N. I didn’t sleep with Candy, or anyone else beside you for the matter. I called her over, yes. But I just couldn’t do it. I tried to get over you, tried to make me realize that I’m just a customer for you. As soon as I hung up, I regretted it. We kissed, but I stopped her and...fuck. Y/N I fucking sobbed in front of her.” He laid his hands on your cheeks and looked you in the eye, “I never thought that I’d be able to fall for someone else after my ex hurt me. But you were there for me when you could’ve just left like everyone else did.”

He looked at you like he was searching for something inside of your eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just want you next to me, smiling and safe. Can you believe me?”

Your bottom lip wobbled and you reached up to lay your hand on top of his. “Jungkook, why can’t you make me hate you? It would be so much easier…” you muttered. Before you could say any more, steps could be heard. They were quick and when they came to a stop, you realized in what compromising position you were in.

“Y/N, did you forget where you are?” Bunny said with panic in her voice. “Taehyung is looking for you, please just get back in.”

You looked at her, seeing her big eyes. She was ready to walk back and you nodded, sending her an assuring smile. After Bunny left, you turned back to Jungkook. With much hesitation, you searched for words. “I’ll text you, once I’m not working.”

He searched for the lie in your eyes, you could tell he was unsure about leaving. “But do you accept my apology? Will you come over soon?” He asked hastily, knowing you had to get back to work. “I really want to help you, please let me,” he whispered, staring into your eyes a final time. When you nodded slowly, you took his hands off of your face.

“I know you want to, but my boss was really angry at me when he saw me texting a customer. I shouldn’t be privately affiliated with you,” you confessed.

Jungkook was biting his lip, looking down at his feet. “I’m sorry if you got in trouble over me,” he murmured. “I won’t be a customer, Y/N. I’m in this for you, not for sex.”

You looked at his face for a short, quiet moment. The pause made Jungkook reach for more words. “Come over tonight, after your work.”

His request seemed innocent, but your need to clarify took over, “but no sex! And it’ll be late until I get out.” You just had to make sure Jungkook really meant what he was saying.

He breathily chuckled at the finger that you poked in his chest, nodding as he engulfed your hand in his. You smiled at each other for the shortest moment before he whispered that ‘you should go, he’ll wait for you’.

Going back in, Bunny visibly relaxed next to her own customer, looking at you intensely. You put your index finger in front of your mouth, motioning to keep quiet about your visitor.

After your shift at the club was over, you packed your things in the changing room for all the girls that work at Aphrodite’s Erotes. Just when you were done with brushing your hair out, Candy stepped in through the door. The air immediately felt tense, the both of you meeting eyes but not saying a word.

You couldn’t explain why you felt the way you did towards her, when you were the one who told Candy to take Jungkook’s call. Now that you knew they didn’t have sex, you felt bad. It wasn’t right to be jealous when Jungkook was supposed to be a customer, it didn’t matter that he wasn’t anymore. This is after all still your job, you couldn’t start a war with your coworker.

Wetting your lips, you checked if she was occupied, seeing her apply her lipstick. “I heard that you and Jungkook didn’t fuck. So I’m sorry for being weird to you,” you said, looking at her with a sincere expression. You weren’t closer than colleagues usually are, so an apology felt out of place, but you knew it was necessary.

“You know, Jungkook is a really nice guy. But he just won’t accept that you’re in this life, you know?” Candy trailed while she still touched up parts of her makeup, leaning over the sink to get close to the mirror. “He seemed like he was forreal about you. But in a different way than Taehyung. He likes you too, as his bitch.”

You thought about her words, knowing that she was right. For Taehyung the lines between work and privacy were set in stone, you belong into his work life. It was a business deal, to be with you for his money. He didn’t have the time to go out and occupy himself with girls who try to trick him for his money, so he’d rather go out and instantly pay. This way you both knew where you were for each other.

It was like this for Jungkook, at the beginning at least. But he started to like you, ultimately not his goal when he decided to order an escort. Still, you could tell that he meant his words, you believe that he’s in it for you. Nodding, you turn away from Candy to pick up your bag.

“I’m not sure if I can do this for much longer. I’m not made to be in this life, Candy.” She looked at you through the reflection, standing behind her. “I did this because I loved someone who isn’t here for me anymore. I really want to get out of this.”

Your words made her smile in a pitying way. “Baby, if you wanna get out, try it. But where are you supposed to go?” Her question made sense, you’d been asking yourself this ever since you got dragged into this life.

Without responding to her question, maybe because you didn’t know the answer yet, you left the changing room and the whole building after saying goodbye to Bunny. Exiting the club and walking onto the streets, you grabbed your phone, checking your messages.

Gukkie [9.26 PM]: Are you already on your way? Do I need to pick you up?

You [9.34 PM]: I’m out now. I’ll get an uber, be there in 15.

When you were just about to close the messenger app to call yourself a car, the bubble meaning Jungkook was typing, popped up.

Gukkie [9.35]: I’m waiting in the parking lot actually, I knew you wouldn’t ask me for a ride ;)

Exhaling a breath that was visible because of the cold air, you chuckled quietly to yourself.

“You cooked? I thought you survived on ramen,” you said, surprise evident in your tone. Jungkook grinned proudly and pointed to the plates full of pasta, cheese on top and even real forks and spoons laid out.

As he walked towards his couch table, because that’s the only surface besides the kitchen counter in this apartment apparently, Jungkook explained the reason for his efforts. “I thought I should let us get a bit of a reset. I want to get to know you, without your work between us.”

His words could’ve made you tear up, if you weren’t so hungry. You supposed emotions could come after your hunger has been stilled and the pasta has been consumed, it really did look delicious.

“Noodles are my forte, as ramen and pasta are in the same family, it has to be good. Don’t tell me otherwise, my feelings will get hurt.” He sniffed, playing up the act and pressing his hand where his heart sits in his chest. Laughing at his antics, you sat down next to him, grabbing your plate. “Please have a taste,” he wrapped up his speech.

It didn’t take much more than the first bite to realize, Jungkook really was talented with noodles. Moaning at the taste, you munched on the pasta and creamy sauce, turning over to the waiting man. With big eyes, he’d been watching you, waiting for your final conclusion. “It’s delicious! The best pasta I’ve probably ever had!”

This left him in delight, finally taking his own bite and throwing his body back against the couch. When he swallowed the food down, he groaned in satisfaction, “I’m such a good cook, my god.”

The rest of the meal was spent mostly in the quiet, Jungkook turned a playlist on to play for background noise. From time to time you complimented him again, making a blush slowly fade onto his protruding cheeks, eyes smiling too.

After the plates were almost licked off, you sat back into the couch pillows and watched Jungkook as he walked to his kitchen, used dishes clinking when he put them into the sink to let them soak.

Jungkook went to get into a bit more comfortable clothes than the jeans he was wearing, he offered you to change as well. You declined the offer, thanking him but thinking it wouldn’t be appropriate to wear his clothes.

Deciding that you should watch a movie, you tried to pick up a bit of small talk, to fill the quietness while Jungkook was searching through his movie collection. “That really was one of the greatest pasta I’ve ever eaten, Jungkook.” The compliment made him turn around with a big smile from where he was sitting on the floor, so you continued, “what’s your secret?”

“If I tell you, I have nothing to bribe you with to come over again,” he joked. Having the movie on start, ready to play, you completely missed what he picked out before sitting back down next to you. “It’s just adding the pasta water, is all.”

He still wore the gentle smile and his lips wouldn’t falter, leaning back into his couch and pressing play. The movie blasted through the sound system in his living room, giving a better experience.

The experience was great until about half an hour into the movie, when you accidentally looked down to the side and saw how Jungkook’s legs were spread open, innocently enough. The short sweatpants he was wearing were up until his knees but bunched together from sitting, so his thighs were on show and you remembered how good they felt underneath your fingertips. Just rippling muscles and golden skin, deliciously broad and full on display for your hungry eyes.

Jungkook and you hadn’t had any physical interaction past a few gentle touches ever since you were at his place weeks ago, so you were deprived of the feelings of his rough hands on your skin. They’d glide across your back, holding you up on his lap, looking up at your lust filled eyes. The way he would guide your movements to rub your cunt across his meaty legs, whisper encouraging words and filthy names. You could feel yourself getting hotter, pressing your own thighs against each other to create some sort of friction but suddenly, the very man of your heated daydream interrupted your fantasies.

“Y/N, are you even watching the movie?” He asked, looking at you, now sitting cross legged and turned to you on the couch. Realizing how long you’ve probably stared at his crotch and thighs, you turned red almost immediately. You felt your face heating up and could imagine very well what you’d look like, eyes opened wide as you felt like you’d been caught in the act.

“No,” you admitted honestly. Gulping, you scooted closer to Jungkook and tried reaching in to his frame but he raised one eyebrow sceptically.

He leaned back a little and took a hold of your wrist, looking in your eyes to regard you with a concerned expression. “You know that’s not what I invited you here for. No sex,” he said sternly, of course he saw where you were looking and after weeks of calls and text messages, he knew many of your thoughts. Including how much self respect is missing from you. “You’re here for a date, Y/N. I’m not expecting anything from this other than some quality time with the girl I have an embarrassingly huge crush on.”

Jungkook’s voice was laced with humor but his sincerity never wavered. He truly meant it and it made you feel horrible. “But that’s what I’m always there for, Jungkook. How do you not want to fuck me right now, I don’t understand it.”

After you spoke those words, you looked up from your hands in your lap to see his eyes full of regret. “You shouldn’t ever reduce yourself to a body. Baby, you’re a person, with valid feelings. You’re so much more worth than just sex,” he said, fully loaded with all his feelings.

“Just because I want to see you, doesn’t mean I need sex. And just because I say ‘let’s not have sex’, doesn’t mean you’re not desirable. You’re still the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, but I want this to be more than pleasure.”

His rant, words spoken with a soft tone, made your bottom lip wobble a bit, not being able to contain your feelings. Never has anyone ever told you that you’d be worth more than the price your body costs, that you’re deserving of just enjoying time with somebody. It shook you up, to see how much you mean to him, he would’ve just given up on you long ago if you wouldn’t be special to him.

Trying to wipe your tears away from your cheeks before they could roll down to your chin, you nodded, showing Jungkook that you understood what he had said. You understood that he wasn’t rejecting you, but that he just wanted to have a nice evening with you.

When you looked up at him again, eyes a little red and watery, he took your face in his hands. Wiping the tears off with his thumbs, he smiled at you. “You’re so beautiful, I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to look at you right now. I’m undeserving of such a wonderful girl right in front of me.”

You exhaled a laugh, still sounding like you were crying but he could tell he made you feel better. “Can I kiss it better?” He whispered, inching closer.

Nodding, you held eye contact and sniffled a bit, waiting to meet his lips. When they finally clashed, it was soft, sensual. Full of emotions and you could feel how much he tried to hold you with care. He didn’t move his tongue onto your lips, just pressed his soft kiss and poured his heart out. After you parted, his hands still on each side of your face, he pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again to look at you, his teeth were on display, his lips parting to show you his widest smile.

“I’m in this with you, if you let me. I won’t give you up.”

When you came home that night, you were determined. Before opening the door, you rid yourself of the playful smile, dreaming about the way Jungkook held your hand during the drive to your place. He insisted on bringing you home, wanting to spend as much time with you as he could. When your hand was already resting on the door, he reached in and kissed your cheek, wishing you a good night. Jungkook had no clue that you already decided to leave as soon as you would be alone at home tomorrow. Once your ex will go to work, as late as ever, you’ll pack your things and get out of your own personal hell.

That was at least the plan. Until you got called in because the club was low on girls, rushing into work even though you should’ve been on your way out of the apartment with your luggage. But now it was sitting in your room, only half packed and waiting for you to get it.

Your nerves were at an all time high, not being able to concentrate on anything other than ‘how is your plan going to work out now?’

“Are you okay?” The sudden noise from behind your back made you flinch, turning around with your eyes opened wide in shock. Bunny stood in the doorway, looking at you questioningly. “You seem out of your mind today. Maybe you should go home,” she suggested.

You considered it. If you’d leave now, you could still make it before your ex will come home. But you felt bad leaving your friend almost alone on a semi busy night in the club. She saw your worry, smiling at you. “I’m telling you to leave, no buts! Get some rest and be better on your next shift.”

“Thank you, Bunny. I love you, I’ll text you as soon as I can,” you hushed with hurry. Her confused face was expected, you never once told her that you don’t want to be in this life. “I’m so sorry, I’ll go now.”

She must think you would go down with a fever, the way she looked at you seemed to speak her mind, you must be going crazy. None of it made sense to her, but you knew she’d get it once the employees had to carry out the hell that you built them tonight. Your ex was furious and he wouldn’t hold back to take it out on the other girls.

The rest of your bags were packed quickly. You never had a lot of things so you ended up with one backpack on top of your suitcase, a duffel bag slung over your back already.

Right when you closed the door to your cleaned out room, turning to the hallway, that would lead to your freedom — a key turned in the lock of the front door. You could feel the fear and tears building up in you, only imagining what was going to happen now.

And your ex, your personal devil, went beyond all you could’ve had imagined. Once he saw you, he let loose, screaming and throwing things. You flinched, curling into your frame and crying, sobbing. “What do you think you’re doing? Where do you think you’re going?” He furiously asked, burning eyes held on your shaking body. “You have nowhere to go! Except for back into that goddamn room of yours.”

Your sobs turned high in pitch, breathless and panic cursed through your veins. You knew, this couldn’t continue on like it was. But your nerves were failing you.

It started becoming a challenge to get air into your lungs and when you looked up with panicked eyes, you saw your ex coming closer, raising his hands, reaching to you. The stress made itself more present by raising a high pitched noise in your ears, blending out all noise and the voice of the man coming closer blurred out. Everything felt far away and when he finally grabbed your arm and yanked you to your right, you yelped. Seeing his hand raise to impact with your face, you clicked into autopilot.

In seconds, you renewed your hold on your baggage and you made a run to the door. It wasn’t far away, not even closed yet. Without looking back, still fighting the blurred out noises, you ran as quickly down the few stairs, out on the street and meters along the sidewalk.

Once you breathlessly stopped, collapsed down on the pathway, you looked back. He hadn’t followed you. Pitiful sobs escaped your throat once more, shaking with the adrenaline of finally escaping. You couldn’t stay there, the risk of him following you wasn’t out of the picture yet and you needed to call someone.

Like a punch into your gut, you realized that you just gave up everything. But the thought of Jungkook made everything seem like an easy battle. You’ll get through this.

That is what you repeated in your head as you started walking along the streets in the dark, dialling the saved number and sobbing into the speaker once he groaned a greeting.

“What happened, why are you crying?” He asked, suddenly sounding alert. “I’m sorry, Baby. I was asleep, I just — he what?”

At your slow explanation, disturbed by hiccups and sniffles, he put down his phone and slipped into his clothes. “Share your location with me, I’ll be right there. Don’t talk to anyone, okay? I’ll be quick!”

He hung up and you sat down on the curb after you did as he asked, shaky hands making it harder to press and your tears blurred your vision. You held your knees to your chest, laying your head down on them and breathing out heavily. It felt like no time passed when suddenly, the familiarity of Jungkook’s arms was around you, hugging you close to his body.

“Come on up, let me help you.” He guided you into the backseat, came around and sat down himself. With a short look at him, you started crying all over again. “Hey, stop crying. Please, I’ll cry too.”

He was gentle with the way he talked to you, trying to calm you down and make you look at him. “It’s fine, you’re fine.” His whispered words made you relax a little bit into the seat and to his orders you reached back to find the seatbelt, pulling it only for Jungkook to take it from you and securing it. He reached his hands up and wiped your cheek a bit with the back of his fingers, cooing at your pitiful sniffles.

On the drive to Jungkook’s place, after he went back out to get your luggage, he played calming music and you curled into yourself, lone tears still straying, shock still evident. Your ex was going to hit you, he never went that far before. He would’ve pushed you or gripped your arm harshly but he never once hit you in the face. If you wouldn’t have ran away, he would have beat you to a pulp and you shuddered at the thought.

The gentle touch of Jungkook’s hand on your shoulder shook the images out of your mind and made you look at him. Once you nodded that you were fine, he turned off the car and stepped out, retrieving your bags and making sure your steps were secure enough so you could walk on your own. They were shaky but still grounded, so you staggered in front of him through the parking lot and into the building.

Once in his apartment, Jungkook made you sit down on the couch and murmured that he was going to brew some tea, it was going to calm you down. And it did, you curled up into Jungkook’s side as he let you ramble your thoughts about the day and he just listened. Brushing up and down your back to soothe you when you started crying again, he took the half empty cup away from your hands and held you with both arms close to his chest. Jungkook turned his head to kiss the top of your head and whispered, “you did it, Y/N. You’re so strong.”

Somewhere along the way you fell asleep, causing Jungkook to carry you into his bed, unmade from how he sprung up when you called. He tucked you in, making sure the blanket covered you and put a glass of water on his nightstand in case you’d wake up thirsty. Out of respect and self restraint, he decided to grab a blanket and crash on the couch.

Jungkook’s couch was comfortable, the blanket was soft and the pillow just right. Still, sleep wasn’t welcoming him. He closed his eyes and tried his best to drift off, the hour of sleep he got before you called him wasn’t blessing him right now. He’s awake, so he sat up again. If he couldn’t sleep, he could at least work.

Work, as in start filming a video of him playing his newest game, a completely new and never seen before first person shooter. It was clearly a rip off but he had to review it since they sent him the game for free and will get extra pay if people use his code to buy the game. Giving it his all, headphones on and trying to keep it quiet because you were in his bedroom sleeping, he laid down an awesome game and just started to sum up his opinions of it, when he saw the light in the hallway flicker on.

Sucking air through his teeth, he knew you must’ve woken up and probably came to complain. When he turned his head around the back of the chair, his heart turned liquid. You came out barefoot and wearing his sweater, which was out because he was wearing it to sleep earlier and pulled it off when he left the house. It was an old, worn sweater but you still looked precious in it, no pants and ruffled hair. Your face was puffy from all the crying and your eyes were swollen and red as well.

“Hey,” he greeted you, voice just above a whisper and full of worry. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry, Baby.” Jungkook turned his chair around to look at you fully.

You shook your head slowly and walked closer, looking at his screen. “Are you making a video?” Your voice was sleep drunken and he had to pull himself together to not coo at you.

Instead, he hummed and pulled you towards him with a hand on your hip. “Wanna see?” You nodded and sat down on his lap, surprising him but ultimately Jungkook decided to just quietly thank God for his blessings. Turning now both of you around again, he pulled up the already saved file of the screen recording and the separate one of his face. “I have to edit my face camera onto the game so it fits and then I have to edit out unnecessary time or lame moments.” He explained.

You leaned back into his chest, resting your head in his nape and watching him cut scenes out or edit them so that they fit, adding music and doing all kinds of other things that you were too tired to pay attention to. When he whispered that he now only has to film his review and add it onto the file, you glanced at the clock on his screen, gasping when you realized how much time went by. “Do you always spend so much time on just one video?”

“Yeah, it has to be perfect. I have a lot of followers, they won’t accept an uncut video with no background music and a fancy intro anymore. Quality is important, you know?” The nerd started to show and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from explaining more, “when I play a game and the match doesn’t turn out good enough, I have to refilm everything.”

Stunned at the work he puts into his gaming career, but also extremely worn out from the day, you yawned and stretched with a squeaky noise.

“Can I watch you play sometime?” You asked after you sat up straighter on his lap, turning your face towards his own.

He smiled at you, turning away to close the tabs on his computer before he layed back in his chair, “Hell yeah you can, or you could just join me for a match?”

Surprisingly, your Ex hadn’t bothered to find you. He had everything needed to seek out Jungkook’s place; the most obvious person for you to escape to. But instead, Bunny called you a few times over the last week that you’ve been out of the club.

She told you about the morning after you ran away, how confused all the girls were. Your ex-boyfriend and now ex-boss let her know about you leaving and showed no anger towards anyone but you. He’d clearly displayed the displeasure whenever your name fell but unexpectedly didn’t leave it out on one of the other girls.

“He announced just tonight that he found a new one, you’re being replaced by a complete rookie!” Bunny said, full of drama. “And Taehyung, I feel so bad for him. Maybe he really cared for you, Y/N.”

That did leave you with a bit of guilt, you disappeared for everyone else and didn’t ever thank Taehyung for how well he treated you, given the circumstances. He was your best customer at the club and was almost always respectful towards you and whether or not you’d be in the mood. “But he already found a liking to another girl, at a different club!” Bunny announced just before you could really think about it.

“So many people are disappointed about you leaving, it’s insane! One of my main customers told me about how a lot of people only stayed for you, our Boss is fuming with the loss of clients!”

That did soothe your soul a tiny bit, made your chest swell with pride. Even though you never wanted this life, proven by the lack of pseud and different identity. Bunny, Candy, all the other girls at the club — they enjoy being a different person, different name and completely new life. You never did that, your Ex being completely apathetic towards your comfort in the club.

Sure, it was a risk to go by your real name. At least you never lost track of who you are this way. Talking to Bunny was fun for a bit, but after three calls in one week you had to break it to her. “You know that I’m never coming back, right? And I can’t keep in contact with you much longer. I have to leave all this behind me, Bunny.”

She sighed, agreed with you and wished you the best for your life from now on. With mischief in her voice, she’d also voiced her congratulations towards a certain young man who stood in the kitchen, cooking dinner for you both. “I love you, Bunny. I’ll never forget how great of a friend you were to me.”

Before the tears that were building up could fall, you hung up. Exhaling a big breath, you stood up and joined Jungkook behind the kitchen counters, hugging him from behind.

“Are you okay, Angel?” He murmured, noticing the tension in your movements. You hummed, nodding sideways against his shoulders and kissing the fabric that laid over his back.

“I’m fine, I know I’m doing the right thing. It was good to hear about all that I’ve left behind, even hearing about my clients felt kind of reassuring.”

Jungkook fumbled around with the pots and pans on the stove before he turned around quickly. An obviously overplayed expression of shock laced over his face, he exclaimed, “I just realized that I have to prove myself against all these men! I have to be the best man who you’ve ever laid with!” He put his hand on his heart with momentum, resulting in a thumb and an almost unnoticed wrinkle of his eyebrow.

You laughed at the display of drama, invading Jungkook’s space and laying one hand on his chest, the other on his cheek. You caressed his cheek and drove back to get a gentle grip in his hair. “You already are, Jungkook. Don’t worry about that,” you breathed against his lips, pulling him closer and feeling the corners of his mouth raise into a smile.

With heat in your stomach, you leaned in to give him a passionate kiss, slowly licking against his bottom lip and when Jungkook opened his mouth to align it with yours, he sucked on your tongue and pulled you close to his frame with both of his hands on your hips. One of them slid down to your bottom, gently rubbing the skin, still covered by your shorts, before he moaned into the kiss and grabbed a handful of your plump asscheek.

Reluctantly, you parted yourself from his kiss, already missing the press of his lips against yours and looked into his eyes with a glare full of desire. “But you can always prove it again,” you purred suggestively before completely parting yourself from his hold and walking out of the kitchen. “Make sure the food isn’t burning!”

Living with Jungkook had a lot of perks, besides his large movie collection, the delicious food and the regular cuddles he provided for you. For example, the way that you laid down for a good night's rest in his bed before you heard slow tapping on the floor. The shadow in the doorway was predictable, Jungkook standing there and seeing if you were still awake, before he walked closer and put his one knee down on the mattress.

“You know, I’m still hungry.” He said, a playful glint in his eyes as he threw his other leg over your body, covered by the blanket. “How about dessert?” He wiggled his brows, crawling over you to be directly above your face.

“I’m kind of full, though. You can have some yourself,” before you could roll to the side with a giggle, he planted his hand down on the pillow right next to your face.

“Or,” his voice dropped an octave lower, “you could sit on my face, Baby.” Unwillingly, a whimper left your mouth and you scanned his face for any sign he was just trying to make a joke. You hadn’t gotten a hand on this godly man right in front of you for weeks and for him to so casually offer his tongue, the one that curled together so well with your own, was cruel. “Seems like you’d want that?”

His cocky tone made the pull towards him even stronger and without much more thinking, you hissed out a curse before you threw your arms around his neck and pulled Jungkook close to your body, moaning deeply into the kiss. He slotted against you perfectly, moving around to remove the blanket from your body and with a strong grip on your waist, he almost ripped your shorts, including your panties, down your legs.

“Fuck,” he groaned, moving his hand up and down your thigh before he slid to the inner leg and hesitantly brushed across your lips. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Baby? You don’t have to,” he hushed once he lifted himself up on one hand.

“Yes, I really want it. Please, Jungkook. Please make me cum.” He moaned loudly and closed his eyes forcefully, seemingly collecting himself. His chest filled with air quickly and moved with it, the friction moving against you.

“Okay, let’s switch places,” he said, hurrying the both of you around so that he was laying down on the pillow. You sat across his lap with no clue how to go about this, before Jungkook saw your obvious struggle and pulled your hips towards him. “C’mon, really wanna taste you.”

With his help, you comfortably settled down with your knees next to Jungkook’s ears and your legs opened up so he could easily have access to your glistening cunt.

Still hovering in the air, you weren’t sure what to do, you couldn’t just sit on him, right? In all the years of having sex for money, you never once experienced this.

You felt his breath on your lips, warm and tickling. “God, you’re so fucking wet already. I missed this pussy so much,” he murmured senselessly, brushing a finger through your slit and making you jump. With more determination, he parted your lips and rubbed his thumb across your wetness, collecting your juices before he circled your clit. You moaned out breathlessly, sinking a bit down towards the pleasure, towards Jungkook’s face.

“Don’t be shy, Princess. Sit on my face, I won’t die ‘cause of a little bit of pussy, huh?” He groaned when you followed, moving your hips downwards and scooting around to fit your lips onto his mouth. His nose was brushing against the hood of your clit and you gasped, moving forward but his hands reached up to hold your cheeks. You moaned at the subtle display of dominance, the way he was controlling you when he used his hold on you to move your hips against him. At the same time, he moved up to lick a long stripe across your cunt and sucked your clit into his mouth. Gently, he took the bundle of nerves between his teeth and graced them across, making you mewl and shudder.

You needed to hold onto something, desperately gripping the head of his bed before your hand slid down your body and buried itself into Jungkook’s hair. Tugging, you ripped a moan from his chest. The sound almost vibrated against you, losing the last control you had over your hips and completely pushing onto Jungkook’s face.

“Fuck,” he muttered into your folds, licking along your entrance and moving his face with his tongue pressed against you. One of his hands moved up your front, groping your breasts and twisting your nipples. Your senses were overwhelmed, moving against his tongue and holding his hand close to you. The hand in his hair kept tugging, gracing his scalp and the moans slipped out of you like you were in a trance.

“Jungkook, I can’t I- ah!” you interrupted yourself with a high pitched noise when he slapped your ass where he was holding you. The sudden movement made you press against him after you coiled forwards, he moaned from being soaked with pussy and his nose kept a delicious pressure on your clit. “I’m cumming, please don’t stop, I’m,” he nibbled on your clit and that was the last kick over the edge, you almost screamed and wantonly moaned out his name, folding into yourself when he continued to lap up your juices.

“You’re so hot when you cum, fuck,” he groaned with a gravelly voice and kissed your clit, smacking your butt lightly again before he used both of his hands to help you be stable. He slid from beneath you and sat down on his knees, ready to let you sink into his frame. You were sweaty, breath heavy and eyes struggling to keep open, laying on his lap.

“I’ll never get enough of your fucking cunt,” he gritted, taking your jaw in between his fingers and opening your mouth with them. If you were more concentrated on him than on calming your breathing, you would’ve clearly noticed his tongue swirling around his mouth before he pursed his lips, bowing down closer to you and spitting onto your tongue. Realizing it, you moaned before you looked into his eyes and obviously swallowed the glob of spit down, tasting a sheen of yourself in it. “Such a good slut, moaning so loud when she gets her tiny pussy eaten, hm?”

His words made your head spin, eyes rolling for a second before he manhandled you towards the pillow again, face down and legs opened. “Stay here, I’ll clean you up.” He whispered, his voice back to the familiar, soft melody.

When he came back with a warm, wet rag, he wiped your thighs up and carefully over your lips, making sure the cum wasn’t going to flake on your skin. Jungkook brought the rag back into his bathroom before he removed his pants and shirt, climbing back into the bed.

“C’mere, Princess,” he pulled you close to his chest and put one arm underneath your neck. Leaning over you, he removed your hair from your face and stroked over it, smiling at your flatted out form. He kissed your temple and got comfortable behind you, holding your body close and feeling warm.

“Jungkook,” you whispered into the sudden dark room, not remembering it to be this dark when he walked through the door. He hummed in recognition, breathing out a sigh into your nape, ready to knock out. “I feel like I could be in love with you.”

He grunted, raising his head to look into your face. “Then let me work towards that,” he smiled, dropping an overly loud kiss onto your cheek. With a chuckle, he laid back and whispered, “you don’t need to be afraid of love. It can be a good thing.”

It felt like he didn’t only say that to you, but also for himself. With a smile on your lips, you turned around to face his chest, putting your head onto his pecks.

Falling asleep next to him, you knew you were, where you were supposed to be.

The next morning you not only woke up to the delicious smell of pancakes but also to the loud sound system in the living room. Jungkook was playing a shooter game, yelling profanities once in a while and monotonously announcing his position on the map.

Not thinking much of it, he was a gamer after all, you slid into a sweater of his and tapped with bare feet towards the noise. First, you saw the strawberry pancakes sitting on the kitchen counter, visibly still warm. After that, you looked at Jungkook, or more like his chair. The big backrest covered his frame almost completely and you only saw his arms that were reaching towards the keyboard and mouse.

Still full of sleep, you walked towards the food. Jungkook wouldn’t be able to give you attention anyway, so food was clearly the bigger priority. After munching on one, Jungkook removed his headset and turned towards you, a grin on his face. “Slept well?” You nodded, stuffing your cheeks with more of the delicious breakfast.

Jungkook chuckled and turned back around, putting his headset on and being sucked into the game again. Mischievously, you walked around the kitchen and towards Jungkook, moving his arm from his mouse and slipping underneath to sit on his lap. “Baby, this is live-” he gasped, his eyes wide.

“Oh,” you pondered, “hello!” With a wave, you grinned into the web camera and looked down onto the screen, seeing the small window in the corner where you and Jungkook were visible. He broke into a short laugh, teeth on show and took his hands off of the keys to reposition you. Pulling up the chat of his stream, you could barely read what was commented, people spamming multiple messages in only short moments.

Jungkook’s game didn’t seem to be of interest anymore, considering how he hadn’t removed his hand off of your stomach to hold you. “What are they saying?” You curiously asked and tried to read the messages. Jungkook scrolled up in the chat to let you read a few comments and you grinned. “They all wanna know who I am.”

While you giggled because of how Jungkook rolled his eyes, he concentrated back on his game, with you on his lap this time. Absentmindedly, he muttered, “I guess you could say that she’s my gamer girlfriend.”

You looked to the side and took in his profile with wide eyes. “Heart eyes, or something,” he added, the viewers only being able to hear him because of the microphone that stood directly in front of you on the desk. The rest of the game Jungkook’s subscribers calmed a bit down from your guest appearance and enjoyed how you watched him play and started to feed him a pancake after some time passed.

Once the stream ended, with both of you waving towards the camera and Jungkook disconnecting the live broadcast, you turned towards him. He removed his headset again and lifted you, making you turn around and straddle him. “So,” you trailed. “Gamer girlfriend, huh?”

His eyes widened for a split second before he smirked. “Ah, well. I guess I said that, hm?” You smiled at his try hard, cocky expression and lifted your hands to his cheeks.

“I like the sound of that,” you whispered as you leaned in towards his face, holding eye contact.

“Yeah?” He asked, nudging your nose with his and keeping only a hair's width apart from your lips. “Guess it’s official then.”

With a chuckle, he pulled you closer to his chest and closed the distance, kissing you. He bit into your bottom lip before he licked over it, holding it between his own and moving your head to the other side, deepening the kiss.

“Then let’s play a round? You know, for the title,” you suggested, pulling away and wiggling your brows. Laughing breathily, he nodded. With an applause, you jumped from his lap and threw yourself onto the couch, waiting for Jungkook to get the controllers and starting a game for you two.

Only a few days after, Jungkook asked you to move in with him, officially. He led with the obvious argument, that you just got out of living with your ex and that moving in with Jungkook would be so fast. But he also pointed out how he was willing to help you find a job and a place to stay would definitely lift one of your worries. He insisted that you were free to leave his place whenever you wanted, just as you were free to come back anytime.

He gave you a key, shy smile on his face and his cheeks reddened a little bit. So of course you agreed. He was right when he said that you should accept the offer without thinking about the future of their relationship. In a regular time schedule, moving in together would be much after the first year.

It should be considered that your relationship wasn’t regular at all. Staying would hurt and once you found a job as a waitress in a bar Jungkook’s best friend worked at, you stopped feeling bad about constantly being at home.

Finally you were able to actually contribute to living with someone in a healthy relationship and you were overly excited for every day of coming home to Jungkook.

At home he was more of a roommate than anything, with the occasional kisses sneaked in between video game wars.

“No! Jungkook you’re going to kill me again!” You screeched, moving the joystick on your controller aggressively to make your character run away from Jungkook’s.

“Noo don’t die, you’re so sexy aha,” Jungkook quoted, pushing his shoulder into your frame to distract you. With success, the move got him the opportunity to attack your character and end the game with a win for him.

You pouted, slumping into the couch. With a pout equally deep, Jungkook turned around and cooed at your pitiful state. “I’m sorry, Baby. Let me make it up to you.”

“You said you were with me in this! Not fair! How do you play like this with your girlfriend? A little love here, sir!!”

Your tantrum made him giggle and he leaned over you. “This isn’t a love game, Baby. Winner’s losers.”

The pout was glued onto your face from this point forward and Jungkook wasn’t able to shake it until he made a peace offering. “Let me win your heart back, Angel. I’ll let you win every round until you bully me for being a loser.”

Springing up with a gleaming face, you took the controller back into your hands. “Deal!”

738 notes · View notes

heyheydidjaknow · 4 years ago

Text

I finished it, finally! Yee fucking haw! It’s not perfect, but I’m not feeling terrible about it, and the next one is going to be fun. Unless something happens, the next chapter should come up on Sunday as planned. Knowing me, it won’t, but I wanna hope. As always, the table of contents and the previous chapter is at the bottom, and a full list of the shit I’ve published is at the bottom of the table of contents. I’ll do a proper proofread tomorrow. Right now, Grammarly and Kami are carrying the team, so if there’s a mistake, take it up with them.

Chapter 14

“I trust you won’t be creepy.”

“I’m thankful.” Yoshi runs his thumb along the rim of his cup slowly. “You have little faith in me, as I understand it.”

You try not to be disrespectful. “Well, things in your life could’ve gone better, right?”

He seems to consider this for a moment. “I suppose so.” He takes a slow drink. “Mistakes from my youth have led to many hardships. Still, though the road has been a long and strenuous one, I would not want to change my past.”

Your untouched drink is cradled in your hands. “You don’t regret anything?”

“It is a foolish and maddening thing, longing for a life unobtainable to you.” He closes his eyes, your own scanning the walls for the photograph you know is in some nook or cranny. “Besides, if things hadn’t happened the way they did, I wouldn’t have my sons.”

You can understand, intellectually, he does not mean to be—and likely is not— as arrogant as you perceive him. Still, something about the way he sits, the way he speaks, even how he looks at you now makes you feel painfully inferior, as if you reacting the way you are makes you somehow beneath him in more than a literal sense.

You decide against arguing the point, eyes flickering from the shrine back to the man in front of you. “I guess that’s true.” You know you are not going to drink any of what he has offered until you have to. “And you’ve always thought like that?”

He nods. “It was what I was taught.”

Nodding, you look back down at your cup, a deafening stillness settling between you two. ‘He convinces me to come here,’ you grumble silently, ‘and all I get for it is a lecture and an awkward silence.’ You look back up at him, setting the clay vessel on the ground and pulling your knees to your chest. ‘I could be doing something else, like fixing my shirt or something.’

“Speaking of them,” he continues, “Donatello tells me you have been experiencing night terrors.”

‘Snitch. Did he tell me he told him?’ “You don’t?”

His eyebrows rise. “Sorry?”

“We have the same trauma,” you explain simply. “Both our families died in fires we caused. Think that counts.”

He does not even flinch. “I’ve never thought of it that way.” He smiles softly. You want to punch him in the face. “I suppose so, yes.”

“You seem pretty calm about it.”

He chuckles at your expression. “I’ve had fifteen years to come to terms with my loss,” he takes another drink. “And,” he jokes, “I was often simply too exhausted to have nightmares back when the wound was fresh; caring for four young boys is tiring, you understand.”

“Right.” You crisscross your legs in front of you. “Yeah, the makes sense.”

“Having said that,” he continues, voice lowering, “I can’t imagine going through what I did at your age.” He sighs. “If something like that happened to one of my boys at this age, I can’t honestly say how they would cope.”

‘Poorly. I’d guess they’d cope poorly.’

“I understand that you and I have differences in ideals and morals.”

“You could say that.” Your mouth stretches into a wry smile. “I honestly only started hangin’ with and helpin’ y’all as a way to make up for my manslaughter. With this exception, I live by the adage, ‘Not my circus, not my monkeys.’”

“As I said,” he covers his mouth to hide his amusement, “we differ in that respect. I take it that’s why, when Donatello explained the situation—” you break eye contact—“he was unable to explain in any sort of detail what they were about.”

“Not his circus not his monkeys. ‘Sides,” you shrug, “he was already being really caring and understanding, and I was already sobbing my eyes out, which I’m sure he already told you, so.”

You stare down at your tea. “Are you going to elaborate?”

“Not if I don’t have to, no.” Your face heats up.

“Do you want my help?”

‘I hate this,’ you squirm. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be here if Donnie hadn’t asked me to.”

“For someone who believes in leaving people to their own devices,” he notes, “you seem to value the requests of my son a great deal.”

Your knees are back up to your chest. “He’s important to me. He’s been there for me. It’s the least I can do.”

He takes a beat to gather his thoughts. You brace yourself for a lecture.

“You care for him, then.”

You nod once, treading carefully.

“Romantically?”

You still do not look at him directly, staring instead at the gorgeous screen door. “I dunno.” Your fingernails scratch at the surface. “I’m not exactly in my right mind, you understand.”

“I can’t say I do.” A pause as he takes another drink. “Then again, I’ve only felt for one woman all my life.”

“Look at that,” you try to joke. “Another difference between us.”

“Do you mind letting me in, then?”

“A little,” you admit, “but I will since there isn’t really a point to being here if I don’t.”

“That’s the spirit.” You can hear his smile.

You set the cup down again, glancing up at him before fiddling with the laces on your shoe. “People under stress and without anywhere else to turn tend to latch onto the first people they relate to,” you explain, practicing your knot tying with fumbling fingers; there is no harm in practicing your dexterity. “He was the first guy I met after I died, got kidnapped, and almost got killed by a giant vine creature. I like him,” you clarify quickly, “I really do, but it’s hardly fair to pursue that sort of relationship, especially considering everything going on with the Kraang and Shredder.” Your eyes go out of focus. “We get along great,” you mumble. “He’s sweet, kind, generous, and empathetic. He deserves to make sense of his feeling properly without me muddying things up with my possibly trauma-induced attachment.”

“So,” he clarifies, “it is not that you aren’t in love with him, but, instead, you’re worried for his sake?”

Your face goes scarlet as you choke on your saliva. “T-that’s a bit—uh—extreme, isn’t it?” You rub the back of your burning neck. “I’m not even sixteen, Yoshi. You don’t understand love properly at sixteen!”

“I fell for my wife at thirteen,” he smiles. “It’s certainly not impossible.”

“That’s—look,” you protest, “that is entirely besides the point. The point,” you state, “is that is completely irresponsible for me to pursue a relationship with your son. Frankly, I’m surprised you don’t agree.”

“He cares for you. You know that. Who am I to decide who he does and does not pursue, especially when that person makes him happy?” He reaches for a worn kettle sitting between you two on a table, pouring its contents back into his teacup—you remember Leo telling you that it is technically called a yunomi. “I find love typically does no harm so long as it does not consume you. Moderation is key.”

You look up at him. “So, you don’t have any reservations about it?”

He takes another drink. “I wouldn’t say that. He is my son, after all. In truth,” he admits, “I was more concerned that my sons would never experience what I did than anything. Given the circumstances of our existence, I’m sure you can understand my wish to give them a relatively normal, happy life.”

You sigh. “I guess, yeah.” You adjust your blanket again. ‘Seems counterintuitive, teaching them the art of murder, but I guess that’s his normal.’ “That’s just a generally good parenting thing though, right? I’d hope you’d want that even if you weren’t a giant rat and they weren’t anthropomorphic turtles.”

A parent. He is talking to you like one might speak to their kid.

“I suppose so,” he nods. “It’s been difficult, but we’ve certainly come a long way over the years.”

The screeching of tires pierces the still air, the chattering of his four sons bouncing off the concrete walls.

You strain to hear what they are saying. “I never noticed that there was an echo in here. It’s less noticeable than in the tunnel.”

“That’s by design,” he explains. “I’ve made something of an effort to dampen it.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” You set the yunomi on the table. You sigh, holding your breath and downing your now gross, cool tea in three quick gulps. “I hate to cut this short,” you lie, wiping your mouth with your sleeve and tottering to your feet, “but I’ve gotta check to make sure everything went smoothly on their mission and adjust my timetable accordingly.”

He nods, deciding not to point your tell out. “I won’t keep you, then. Would you like to borrow my cane?”

This is not the first time he has offered. You, of course, refuse.

“Oh well. I thought I’d offer.” He sets his cup down, staying seated. “It has been pleasant talking with you, Y/N.”

“Likewise, Mr. Hamato.” You nod once in acknowledgment, hopping over to the door and slipping out into the hallway.

Your stomach churns at the stench coming from the lab—you can smell the gasoline. You lean against the wall, making a pointed effort not to eavesdrop and rapping your knuckles against the door. Their voices immediately lower to hisses and someone drags the door open.

“Hey,” Mikey beams. “We were just talking about you. Need somethin’?”

“Just is an over-exaggeration.” There is a considerable amount of protest as Donnie pulls him away from the door with an uncomfortable edge to his voice. “P-please, come in.”

A beaten DIY van sits pathetically on the subway track, looking not dissimilar to a burnt, crushed soda can from where you stand. The once hot pink graffiti has most certainly seen better days, and you squirm at the thought of the sound it must have made if you understand the situation properly. Raphael, who you glance at out of the corner of your eye, looks similarly beat up. Of course, you are not going to say anything because you value your life.

You whistle, smiling incredulously. “So,” you try not to laugh, “I take it you took on the cucaracha.”

“Made it my bitch is what I did,” boasts Raphael. “Shot it with a laser.”

“Cool, cool.” You chuckle at his excitement. “You take care of the egg?”

Is there a better sight than watching the light in someone’s soul die? You would hesitantly say no. “The what?”

“Right outside the building,” you elaborate. “On the side of the road. Looks like a horrifying imitation of an orbee?’

He takes a slow, deep breath, holds it, exhales. “I’ll be right back,” he says calmly, and sprints out of the lair.

Michelangelo laughs. “Were you being serious or are you messing with him?”

“Serious.” You readjust the blanket, trying to subtly figure out how to breathe without being assaulted by the mechanical smell. “I won’t joke about that sort of thing. It’s cruel.”

He hesitates. “… speaking of, are you alright? I didn’t get to ask before.”

The other two are quietly watching the interaction with an odd amount of intensity.

You shrug. “I guess. Probably.”

“Alright,” he nods. “Just lemme know if you need to talk, alright? Donnie’s no—ow!”

“Don’t talk bad about people in front of them,” Leonardo criticizes. “It’s rude.”

“You called him special, like, four hours ago!”

“The word of the day is hypocrisy.” Donatello puts his hand down.

“Hypocrisy’s right” You rub Mikey’s shell reassuringly. “To be fair, though, Leo could honestly probably just dodge it anyway.”

He leans into it. “I guess,” he grumbles, shooting a look at Donatello. “Favoritism.”

“It’s strategic favoritism,” the tallest brother corrects. “It’s to encourage parti pris.”

“Cronyism,” you tease, grinning. “You mean cronyism.”

“Hey, I’m plenty qualified!”.

You stifle a giggle as his face reddens, looking back over at the battered vehicle, raising an eyebrow.

“That was a team effort.”

“Yeah, okay, Hamato.” You blow a strand out of your face. “How long do you think it’ll take to fix?”

“Half a week? Maybe a bit less.” He looks back at it ruefully. “The spy roach completely jacked it.”

“Clearly.” You remove your hand, Mikey seemingly thoroughly comforted. “Then mind if I borrow a needle and thread so I can fix my jacket? I have school tomorrow.”

“Do you have the dexterity for that?” Leo crosses his arms across his chest absentmindedly.

“If I can hold a pencil,” you reason, “I can do basic stitching. ‘Sides, it’s only gotta hold until I get home.”

“I didn’t know you sewed.”

“I don’t. That’s why I’m asking now.”

Donatello pipes up again. “I really don’t mind—”

“Dude,” you reason, “you have to fix a whole ass van. I’ll manage.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket. “It’s a quarter to twelve. You won’t finish before midnight.”

“Then sucks to be me.” You shrug. “I’ll fix it here and walk home.”

He looks at you with a surprising amount of incredulousness. “It’s New York City.”

“You go out at night all the time,” you protest.

“I can carry you—”

Immediate panic. “Nah, I’m good!” You try to sound confident. “I walk home all the time, remember?”

“Not at midnight.”

“What’s a couple hours difference?” You would rather get attacked or kidnapped than fly over buildings again.

“A hundred-twenty minutes,” he states. “You know that crime is statistically more likely to happen at night, right?”

“That tracks. What’s different?”

“Violent crime peaks at midnight.”

Mikey butts in. “Why can’t she just go in the blanket? It covers enough.”

Donatello rolls his eyes. “Mikey,” he sighs, “she’s a teenage girl walking around with her torso covered by a single conspicuous quilt. Let’s use our heads here.”

It takes him a minute. “So you’re worried about her getting, like, attacked?”

“… were you paying attention to any of the conversation? Or the lesson we just learned?”

“Dude,” he protests, “when do I ever?”

“What, you mean the one where y’all learned to face your fears or the one where talking about people in front of them is rude?”

The bitter edge to your words is not lost on him. “Look,” he reasons with you, “I-I’m not saying you’re incapable of taking care of yourself—”

“You are, but that’s not the point.”

“Shut up, Mikey.” You are surprised he did not punch him, though, admittedly, you can hardly argue the point. “What I mean is that if you put yourself in harm’s way, you’re going to get hurt.” He nods at Leo. “He’s a really experienced fighter and even he gets overwhelmed if he goes out of his way to do something reckless and dangerous like Karai.” He spits out her name like it is poisonous.

“Since when have you had a thing against Karai?”

The eldest brother sighs. “I’m never living that down, am I?”

“Unimportant, and nope. Point is,” he continues, fingers twitching at his sides, “it doesn’t make sense to tempt fate.”

You open your mouth to argue. You close it again. He has an extremely valid point all things considered, especially considering everything that has been happening, and although you are completely certain about your stance on him carrying you home, you would be lying if you said the idea of stumbling home without your walker or shirt sounds very appealing.

“Then what exactly are you suggesting?”

He looks off. “I’m suggesting she stays the night, Leo.”

Mikey blinks. “What, in your room or on the couch?”

“It would be up to her.”

That works for you. “Your home. You pick. Where do you keep your sewing supplies?” You slip out of the circle the four of you have formed.

“On top of the bookshelf,” he points. “Behind the cardboard box.”

You nod, hopping over.

Mikey offers his two cents. “It makes more sense for you two to share a room. It’s kinda cold in the front room, and you guys’ll probably end up going to bed at around the same time anyways. She also has your blanket.”

You stand on your toes, fingertips brushing against a plastic container.

“That’s a fair point.” You catch it before it cracks open on the ground. “Training starts pretty early, so she should have time to grab her things before school.”

“See? Foolproof plan.”

“Would Master Splinter approve?”

“Leo,” you call over your shoulder, “he’s slept over at my house twice already. I really doubt he cares.”

“But we don’t know.”

“Then you can go ask him.” You turn around. “Where’s the jacket?”

“In the cardboard box.” Donnie starts towards the train wreck on the tracks.

You pull it down, taking your shirt and jacket and sitting down, crossing your bad leg under the one you can use, despite the nausea. ‘Exposure therapy.’ “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

You feel a tap on your shoulder. You glance up at Mikey, who crouches down next to you as Leo waves to his brothers and leaves. “You need anything?”

He shakes his head. “Just wanted to hang out with you is all,” he shrugs. “You didn’t go after Donnie.”

“I didn’t,” you nod in agreement.

“Why?”

“Because car.” You unlatch the box, carefully digging around inside for some pins. “That, and the smell is bad enough from over here.”

He crosses his legs in front of him. “That’s fair.” He taps his foot absentmindedly. “You think he knows?”

“I thought I made it pretty damn clear,” you shrug, “but it’s Donnie, so I wouldn’t bet on it.”

He grins at that. “Then do you wanna hang out while you work on that out front? He isn’t exactly talkative when he gets in the zone.”

You shake your head. “If I do, I won’t get much done,” you admit. You unwind a long portion of the thread, snapping it apart. “Besides, the only way to get over a fear is to face it head-on.”

“Alright.” He hops to his feet. “Thought I’d ask. Have fun.”

”Bet,” you mumble through a bit tongue, shaky fingers making threading the needle almost impossible. “You too.”

“See ya.” He waves, running out of the lab.

You let out a breath, picking a piece of loose wire off of a table and creating a poor imitation of a threader. While you genuinely enjoy talking with Michelangelo, you have some things to think over.

Clumsy fingers start on a running stitch. If your timetable still holds true—which, surprisingly enough, it has thus far—the episode after next’s plot will take place in about three weeks. Your cast is coming off in two. You do not know where and when The Kraang are coming through their portal, or if there is any way for you guys to know, but seeing as you are skipping the episode where the turtles get stuck in a labyrinth under the assumption that, without Baxter being bullied by the Shredder and his goons, he has no reason to construct it, you would tentatively estimate the next episode will happen in about a week. You are still fairly sure that Stockman will not get involved with the Shredder without his input until Oroku finally opens his eyes to the dangers and powers of the Kraang, which should happen around the same time as the next episode.

Your eyes glaze over as you get into the groove of it. ‘The next episode is also when the guys get on Karai’s shit list because they betray her, and, if that happens, the episode where the Shredder starts getting involved with the Kraang and comes to appreciate their resources." You prick your finger. ‘It wouldn’t be long after that before Saki gets the idea to create a mutant army, and with Baxter already somewhat on the villainous map, our best chance to make sure he doesn’t end up under his employment is to…’

You wipe the sticky liquid on your jeans, careful of the bandages on your back. ‘It’s not a guarantee that he even knows Baxter exists.’ Your eyebrows furrow in concentration as you try to keep the stitches separated at equal distances. ‘Hell, it’s not a guarantee he’s even alive. Still, it’s better to air on the side of caution and not think about how you’ll have to do it until the time comes.’

You let out a soft sigh. “I’ll buy a gun, when that happens,” you murmur to yourself. “Just want more time where bodily harm is all I have to deal with is all.”

You slide your poorly stitched jacket over your shoulders under the blanket, pulling your sleeves into place and zipping it up. After folding the blanket up and draping it over your arm, you pull yourself to your feet, hopping over to Donatello and his death trap as he sat down, looking over his work. “How’re the repairs comin’?”

The two of you have not spoken for the three hours it took you to repair the jacket, and significantly more progress has been made on his end than yours. At the very least, the generally rectangular frame was pounded back into submission.

He looks over at you, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and stifling a yawn. “Fine,” he sighs, looking back at the hulking mass of metal as you lower yourself down next to him. “It won’t blow up or anything if it’s driven, but it still needs another day’s worth of work to get it back to where it was before.” You nod along as he goes into more intimate detail, not understanding half of it, but happy to just listen to him talk resentfully about the whole process that you can tell he genuinely does not mind.

“Sounds like a time.” You rest your head on your good knee. “And you’re not gonna fix the graffiti?”

“It rubs off,” he shrugs. “Besides, it’s not exactly important to the design.”

Your head bends in a subtle nod, cheek numb from the pressure of your knee. “Are you going to sleep today?”

He shrugs. “Maybe? It wouldn’t be a bad idea.” His legs are almost crisscrossed in front of him, and he leans his weight back on his skinny, muscular arms. “I honestly don’t want to leave it alone, though. It would be weird to just leave it unfinished.

“Hardly, but alright.” You sit up for a moment, handing him back his quilt. “Thanks for giving me something to cover myself up with, and for not ditching me on a roof, and patching me up, and—I owe you, is what I’m getting at.”

He smiles tiredly. “Don’t worry about it, really,” he reassures you, his face flushing and muscles relaxing slightly. “You’ve made it up plenty.”

“I disagree. I’ve never saved your life.” You trace the fading lines on your cast his brother had left.

“I don’t think a ton of people would literally kill someone for me and my family,” he argues. “That’s pretty awesome, right?”

‘Not sure how I feel about framing murder as a positive thing.’ You do not say anything, looking back at his work.

He sighs. “You should go to bed,” he advises practically. “It’s getting late.”

“Never stopped you.” You straighten your legs. “I’ll go if you come with.”

“Tempting,” he teases with a sudden burst of confidence, hoping to his feet and outstretching his arm to help you up, “but what’s in it for me?”

Your face lights up as your face goes red at his borderline roguishness, taking his arm pulling yourself up. “For as much shit as you’re going to get for it,” you promise, pecking where his nose would be with an almost kittenish smile, “I’ll get up extra early, make everyone breakfast, and go topside for coffee.”

His face almost turns the shade of a human blush, forwardness gone in an instant. “C-can’t,” he stutters, clearly flustered. “When I was eleven, I got addicted to it and I’m not allowed to have any anymore.”

“Relatable,” you giggle. You blow the hair out of your face, comfortable as he helps you walk towards the door, the air between you two charged with electricity. “Is that for all caffeine or just coffee?”

He opens it for the two of you, ever the gentleman with the quilt over his shoulder. “Tea’s fine. Don’t bring tea down, though,” he quickly clarifies. “Leo’ll have a very inconspicuous fit.”

You blink curiously, looking up at him as he pulls you along. “Why?”

“It’s the one food thing he’s particular about,” he shrugs, not bothering to hide his gooey smile as you use his upper arm for support. “Couldn’t tell you why.”

“Are you particular about any foodstuff?”

“Not really?” He helps you up a few steps. “I’m not Mikey, but I don’t think I’m that picky about that sort of thing.”

“That’s fair.”

You do not let go of his arm to use the wall. You do not even think to if Donnie is reading your body language correctly. His smile widens as he opens the door for you.

You give a nod as thanks, lowering down onto the foot of his relatively narrow bed. “Alright,” you clap your hands together quietly as he sits next to you. “How do you wanna do this?”

You are sitting on his bed, willing, with no pretense other than sleeping getter. He is currently on cloud nine.

You look back at the frame. ”Too narrow for us to lay side by side,” you note. “You sleep on your front, meaning you will likely take up most of the room." You look between him and the bed, trying to imagine a position that would work. “You could lay on top of me, I guess, but then your legs would hang off the end.”

“I can sleep on my side,” he offers hurriedly. “If that makes things easier, I mean.”

“You sure?” Your fingers fumble with your shoelaces.

He nods eagerly. “S-so long as you still don’t mind being close to me, I mean. The bed’s still kinda narrow.”

You roll your eyes, smiling. “We’ve slept together before,” you reason. “If you wanted to pull anything, you would’ve the other two times.”

He glances off, face still red. “Y-yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “That makes sense.”

You gesture to the bed. “Then,” you nod once, “so long as you’re comfortable, you lay down. I’ll work from there.”

He tentatively lays himself down, facing the wall, tensing ever so slightly as you lay behind him, legs curling up under his thighs.

You lay your arm under your head as a pillow, the other pulling the blanket over the two of you. “This work,” you whisper, closing your eyes.

“Mhm,” he hums, covering his face with his hands. “We closed the door, right?”

You look back over. “Yup.”

“Locked it?”

“Seems so.”

He relaxes a bit. “Alright,” he nods, quietly reveling in the way your fingers, again, traced the indentations in his shell like the first night.

‘When I wake up tomorrow,’ he realizes, ‘she’ll be right there. Right behind me, in my bed. By choice.’ He smiles behind his fingers. ‘When we get older, maybe we could have our own place. Or our own room, more accurately, where she just lives with us. Imagine her moving in. If—no, when,’ he corrects himself, ‘we defeat The Shredder, if I ever get the nerve, I’ll ask her.’ He reaches his leg back, entangling it with yours carefully. ‘Would we have to get married first? No, you move in before you get married, right? I should’ve paid more attention during those movie marathons.’ He closes his eyes as you drift off, focusing on this train of thought. ‘How long do you need to be in a relationship before you get married? How would we get married, even? Legally, that would be impossible, right? I can’t go to a courthouse. And if we had a child—practically speaking, of course—would they live with us or go to a public school? We could give them a good education, I’m sure, but—’

You shift in your sleep, absently laying your arm over his side and pulling him closer.

He exhales, allowing himself to relax back into you. ‘Not tonight.’ He rests his hand on top of yours. ‘It’s too late, too soon.’ His thumb runs along the back of your hand, letting himself drift off in your arms.

‘It’ll be okay. We’ll last long enough to take it slow.’

Table of Contents

Chapter 13

Chapter 15

31 notes · View notes