#today I was able to shave (both my legs and face) and wear my skirt with a baggy shirt and now I feel like life is worth living

[upper-eepy-sleepy-girl]

being trans is crazy because I can tie my will to live with how long it's been since I've shaved

[shiftylookingcrow]

A (not comprehensive) List of Little Self Care Things I Do When Everything Feels Like Too Much:

Bathing

Wash just your body, or just your hair. You may not be completely clean, but you ARE cleaner

Still feels like too much? No problem!

Take off any jewelry from your hands/wrists and wash your hands up to your elbows, just taking your time

Then wash your arm pits and groin, those are the stinkiest parts of the body

If you're feeling up to it, wash your face too

Once you're done washing, take your favorite body lotion and massage it in anywhere you washed

Shaving

Shaving takes time and patience (especially if you prefer to be mostly hairless), but you don't have to go through the whole process every time

Wanna wear that cute tank top/crop top but don't feel comfortable with how hairy your pits are today?

JUST shave your arm pits then

Wanna wear shorts/capries/a skirt, but feel your legs are too fuzzy?

Where on your legs do the cuffs/hem sit? JUST shave from there down

Facial hair looking kinda scruffy? Got an electric shaver? It won't give you as close a shave as a razor, but it'll help neaten you up a bit

After any shaving, get back in there with your lotion and work it in well

Laundry

Don't have the energy to drag that big basket you've been avoiding down to the washing machine? Out of clothes but need something to wear tomorrow?

Wash ONLY what you'll need for the next 1 or 2 days. A smaller load means less to put away after

Need a bra/binder/mask/etc for tomorrow? Wash ONE, then hang it to dry with a fan blowing on it.

The air movement will help it dry faster, and while it may not be 100% dry by morning, it should be dry enough to wear comfortably

This can be done for underwear and socks as well

Dental

Mouth feeling like sandpaper, but you still can't find it in you to go through the whole tooth care routine?

JUST brush your teeth before bed. You can floss in the morning

No energy to get in there and really scrub like your dentist told you to? Even just a quick scrub is better than nothing

You know those little Gum brand toothpick things? With runber bristles on them? They can't replace proper flossing, but the CAN at least get the worst of the gunk from between your teeth

Food

Hungry but can't bring yourself to put together a whole meal? That's okay!

Get all the fixings for a sandwich (bread, spreads, cheese, meat, etc), put them on a plate and eat that. You're still eating a sandwich, it's just not an assembled sandwich

Want a smoothy, but don't want to fuss with the blender? Put it all together as a yogurt bowl instead

Want a salad? Grab a couple lettuce leaves, a stick of celery, half a tomato, or whatever else you'd have in there, and toss it on a plate. Grab some dressing (or not) and you've got a personal size veggie platter

Cut an orange in half and eat the pulp out with a spoon

Cut an apple in half, and eat JUST one half. You can save the other half for later, or eat it right after the first if you feel up to it

Cutting a banana in half and squeezing out the fruit means you don't have to worry about those gross stringy bits

Simple Smoothie Recipe:

1 banana

1 egg

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 tsp honey/sugar

Milk (dairy, soy, almond, whichever)

Berries, yogurt, chocolate chips, jam (optional)

Directions

Put all ingredients except milk in a blender (or 4 cup measure if using a hand mixer)

Pour in milk until ingredients are ALMOST covered. There should be about 1 inch/2.5 cm of solid ingredients visible

Blender/mix for 30-60 seconds, or until desired consistency. Pour into your favorite glass, or drink straight from the container

Simple baked potato:

Clean a medium to large potato and use a fork to stab holes down the sides and at each end. Depending on the size, you should have stab your potato somewhere around 9-12 times.

Place the potato in the microwave just off of center, one end facing the center of the spinning plate

Microwave for 15 minutes, flipping the potato end for end after every 5 minutes

Put the potato on a plate with some sour cream or ranch dressing, and dip it like a big ol' french fry

House Cleaning

Feel like there's too many dishes? Pick ONE place setting (bowl, plate, knife, fork, spoon, cup), and ONE pot/pan, and clean those. Do the same at the end of each meal, and while it might take a while, you'll eventually get things down to a manageable level

Dust bunnies breeding in the corners? Pick ONE room or hallway every couple days and just clean there. ONE clean room is better than NO clean rooms

Your room is so messy you don't know where to start? Every time you enter your room, put ONE thing back where it belongs. Every time you leave your room, take one thing that doesn't belong out with you and put it where it belongs.

Sink looking kind of gross? Give it a quick wipe down the next time you wash your hands

Toilet needs a clean? Pick a part (lid, seat, back or bowl) and just clean that bit. Even if you're just wiping some of the dust off the back.

Scum ring building up in the shower/bathtub? Give it a quick scrub next time you bathe. Maybe you don't get the whole thing, but you DID make a start.

Fitness

No energy for a full walk? If you can, walk around your house/apartment building. You might not have gone far, but you were UP and you were OUTSIDE.

Can't get out for whatever reason? Are there stairs in your house? In your apartment building? If you can, walk up and down those a few times.

Not really able to do stairs? Do some simple stretches instead.

Reach down and try to touch your toes, holding for 20 seconds. Reach up over your head as high as you can, holding for 20 seconds. Repeat 5 times

Sitting in a chair, reach your right hand across your body and over your left shoulder and try to grab the back of the chair without lifting your butt. Hold for 20 seconds. Do the same with your left arm, holding for 20 seconds. Repeat 5 times

Standing, or sitting on a chair, gently pull your head towards your shoulder (right hand, right shoulder; left hand, left shoulder), reaching the other hand down towards the ground. Hold for 20 seconds, then gently push your head upright again (lifting your head with just your neck muscles can cause them to seize after a stretch). Repeat 5 times

Miscellaneous

Need to trim your nails, but don't feel like sitting through both hands? Pick one finger on each hand, and just trim that nail. Do another nail on each hand tomorrow, and another the day after that. You don't have to do them all at once

Having trouble remembering to drink enough water? Find a water bottle/mug/glass that you like and try to keep it near you as much as possible. I find actually having a bottle with me helps me remember to keep sipping.

Still having trouble with your water intake? Fruit and veggies (specifically like apples, oranges, tomatoes, bell peppers and avocados to name a few) have high water content and can help keep you hydrated

Even if you can't get to sleep, lieing in bed with your eyes closed is more restful than trying to wear yourself out by reading or something

Alternatively, doing some mild stretches, or a few sit ups/push ups/jumping jacks can help wear you out without engaging your brain too much

You are aloud to say "no". You don't even need to give a reason. If everything feels like too much, taking on more responsibility will only make it worse, which will only make your output poorer as a result.

A reminder that this is by no means a complete list, just some things I've found helpful in my journey through adhd, depression, and anxiety. Not all tasks need to be done all at once. Maybe you can't do much, but that doesn't invalidate the some you did. Just because you take longer to do a task doesn't mean your bad at it, or that it isn't worth doing. You'll get there when you get there.

Please feel free to add to this post, I'd love to see what self care tricks other people are using!

[bonny-kookoo]

Under Your Skin (JJK x Reader) | 🔞

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Goth/Punk!Jeon Jungkook x Secretary!Shy!Reader

Genre: Tattoo artist!AU, Badboy x Sweetgirl AU, Idk what else

Tags/Warnings: Ultimate goodboy Kook, He looks grr but is actually sweet, shy reader, smol reader, Kookers is WHIPPED, Also a tease, Dom!Jungkook because how could I not, Sub!Reader, Babygirl!Reader, Its not heavy on the whole ddlg-stuff but yeah they be having some vibes y'know, don't come @ me don't I'm not forcing you to read it lol, anyways moving on, because smut, yes I mean it's my content, and yall nasty admit it, slight hair pulling, manhandling also only a little, oral (f & m receiving), praising, mentions of emotional and physical insecurities, but Kook be supportive so we good, back to the nasty, body worship yes pls, biting, fingering, because why not, protected sex because we keep it clean in this household, light-hearted sex, kook being a romantic goof, yeah I think thats it?

Summary: Jungkook looks like absolute trouble; like one wrong look could set him off, and turn him into an absolute murderer. But oh well, ever heard the phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover'?

A/N: you might have noticed me only putting one emoji up top. I have decided to from now on only mark my adult fics with emojis (which is basically almost every single one lets be real). Also; stop reading my fucking fics if any of the tagged/warned things make you uncomfortable. I'm tired of everyone clowning in my inbox telling me how disgusting ddlg/smut content is. You can't even tell me you 'read it by accident' because that's why I'm always putting the cut underneath my fics =) so pls go finish preschool and then we can maybe shake hands. Maybe not. Covid and all. Yeah.

On the outside, Jeon Jungkook seems like absolute trouble.

He's working at a tattoo and piercing studio, dresses in all black, clattering chains and heavy boots always alerting everyone around of his presence. His long black hair is never truly tamed, his nails painted black, and his face expressionless most of the time. He's a talented artist and well trained piercer, always visiting conventions to keep up with the newest trends, styles, and equipment there is. He takes his job seriously- and is proud of it, knowing that he had proven his family wrong by now. They had been worried about him; especially his mother had scolded him that he shouldn't throw his time away trying to make it in a world of art many had already failed. But last year, he had finally invited them over to his rather nice apartment, showing them that he was living a good life, with nothing to really worry about.

Jungkook had made it.

Well, not quite.

Because as of currently, Jungkook had a new mission, a new goal.

"Ah, Jungkook!" You say, eyes sparkling as you smile at him when he enters the shop he works at. You had recently started to work there as well, since Taehyung was absolute shit at keeping files in order and track of schedules. You hadn't applied for the job specifically, that's at least what his coworker had told him- he had known you prior already, and was aware that you had wanted a change these days.

And Jungkook had been painfully crushing on you ever since you started.

"Your schedule for the week is already here- I uhm.. didn't put it on your desk cause, I didn't want to intrude your space and all.." You say, giving him a small black booklet where you always noted down his appointments. He appreciated it a lot- knowing how much of a hassle it could be to move dates back and forth just to somehow make it fit. You always made sure that he had enough time in between multiple daily pieces in case something took longer or less so you could make sure to be able to move things accordingly. You didn't want him to get overworked, you had said. He had smiled.

"Thanks- and you can go inside, no problem." He says, and you nod. "I know you don't make a mess, like someone else here." He says, hinting at Namjoon, who was known to be quite clumsy- yet a mastermind when it came to designing pieces he struggled with. Jungkook stayed at your front desk for a bit, making you tilt your head a bit, as you tried not to stare. He always took so much care of himself, you would have had to be blind not to see how attractive he actually was. But then again, you didn't get your hopes up- after all, he was nice to almost everyone around. "You've never been in there, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. You haven't been in his space at all- too scared to invade his privacy and making him upset in the process. "I mean- you got time right now? I can show you around." He casually tells you, and you look at your computer screen in front of you. Everything had been filed for today- so you probably had a bit of time to spare.

"Sure." You said, taking your phone and standing up from your chair, making sure to lock the pc so no one would accidentally make a mess out of your tabs. Or worse; close them. God knows all hell would break loose.

Jungkook had to really force himself not to let out any noise as you walked next to him.

You were so tiny next to him.

He wasn't that tall to be honest- with Namjoon and Taehyung both taller than him, he knew he was average at best. And for the longest time, he'd had a thing for tall girls, all elegant and confident. He still liked their aesthetic, yes- but now that he spotted you, he could really see the appeal of having a shorter significant other.

You were so cute.

You carefully stepped inside when Jungkook lifted the curtain that was used instead of a door, surprised to see how.. organized everything was. A little.. off- some things seemed to be randomly put somewhere, but in general, it seemed like everything had their proper spot. "I like to have it like this." He comments, and you nod your head to that, finally spotting his tattoo-gun. It was made out of purple steel- polished, and changing its hue depending on how you looked at it. It was absolutely beautiful, even though you had a rather limited understanding of these things. "Was a present from Taehyung last year." Jungkook says, sitting down on his chair. "I never asked- are you inked at all?" He asks, leaning backwards as you stand there a little awkwardly. "You can sit down somewhere, don't be so tense." He chuckles, and you look around, before you sit on the stretcher across from him. You shake your head, and Jungkook isn't surprised. Your pink converse sway back and forth as you sit on the stretcher, legs too short to reach the floor anymore as you rest your hands underneath your thighs; hem of your dress revealing more of them than he can usually see.

"I don't have any tattoos yet, but I've been talking to Namjoon about it." You said, and Jungkooks saliva tastes a little bitter at that. He doesn't want to pout or give away that it's bugging him at all that you're not talking to him about it- but he fails miserably. "Namjoon actually said I should talk to you about it, since the style I want fits you best." You say, and he can't hide his smile, bunny teeth on full display as he leans forward a bit.

"You'd let me tattoo you?" He asks, and you shrug, before nodding. "What do you have in Mind?" He instantly asks, not even bothering to hide his excitement.

If only you knew that it's because of you; and not just because he's gonna be the first to ink you.

You've both agreed on a design you want, and Jungkook can't deny that he thinks it's absolutely perfect on you.

"Are you scared?" Jungkook asks you as he prepares everything, his sweater's sleeves rolled up, revealing his own body art to you, as well as some bracelets; one that you recognize as the wooden-bead bracelet you had gifted him last year for his birthday. It was weird to see him wear it.

"I.. no. Just nervous." You say. "I'm worried I might cry and make a fool out of myself." You say with a laugh, and Jungkook chuckles, placing a reassuring and warm hand on your upper arm.

"It's fine. I've seen grown man cry like kids on this stretcher before." He casually says. "Don't worry; I won't think any less of you just because of some tears." He says with a smile, and you nod, turning your head to look at his room's walls instead; covered in drawings, sketches, and pictures of finished works he was most proud of. "Do you want anything to hold onto?" He asks, as he starts to shave the skin of your thigh to make sure he can work as best as possible. He's so into his work, so concentrated on doing everything perfect, that he doesn't even take much into account that you're laying in only your panties and oversized sweater; skirt neatly placed on a chair in the corner of the room, to get it out of the way.

"It's fine" You mumble, although you really want to. So instead you curl your fingers around the fabric of your sweater- something that doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook, who decides not to comment on it for now. He simply throws the one-time razor away as well as the tissues used to clean your skin, before he carefully places the tracing paper onto where he seems fit.

"I think it would look great right here." He says lowly, carefully removing the paper to reveal the lines he's gonna trace with his gun in a few minutes. "You wanna look at it again?" He asks, and you shake your head. "Alright." He says, before he gets up and walks out his room; only to return with your small squishy and round unicorn plush that's usually sitting on your desk. "To hold onto." He winks, and you chuckle at that.

Jungkook really pays attention.

"So, Taehyung has told me you're a bit younger than me." Jungkook says to start casual chit-chat, trying to help your nervousness as his tattoo-gun starts to buzz to live. "Only a Year if I remember correctly." He says, and you nod.

"Yeah.." You say, and can't hide your dissapoinment flooding your voice. Jungkook, until now, only had relationships with girls older than him. He's even said before that he just likes having someone older than him around- which made you even more nervous around him.

"You sound upset about that." He chuckles, and gently holds onto your thigh as you jump a bit when he first presses the tip of the gun down. "Sorry. I'll be gentle." He lowly tells you, and you swallow.

Not the time Y/N, not the time.

"Uhm.." You say, fingers digging into the squishy plush in your hands. "I.. there's someone I like, but he.. only likes older girls, so.." You say, and Jungkook glances at you. You're already interested in someone? He continues to trace the lines, wiping afterwards to get the excess ink and blood off. "But I mean, then again I don't think I have a chance with him anyways." You chuckle, and Jungkook can't help but shake his head. Even if you're interested in someone else, he shouldn't let you have thoughts like that.

"Highly doubt that." He says. "If he doesn't see you, he's blind." He tells you, and you giggle, glad that he's able to make you feel a bit better about everything. "I'm serious." He says, and you nod at that, watching his inked arm flex every now and then as he draws with absolute concentration; black facemask hiding half of his face. You can see the way his eyebrows furrow, eyes fixated on his work as he moves with absolute routine. "Do I know the guy?" He casually asks, before he dips the tip of his gun in the tiny pot of ink again.

You don't know what to say.

He looks at you for a second, and decides not to dig. "You don't have to tell me. Sorry if I seemed nosy; didn't mean to." He apologizes, and you shake your head to let him know its fine. It's quiet for a moment afterwards, only the buzzing of his gun and your occasional whine of pain. "Sorry; it'll hurt a bit more now since I'm getting close to your inner thigh- that's always a little more sensitive." He comments, and you really hope he doesn't pay much attention to your panties.

When you can see his eyes stick to them for a second, you really want to just disappear.

He doesn't comment on it though. What is he suppsosed to say? He really doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, and considering that you already have a crush on someone else, he doesn't want to get himself in too deep as well. He simply works away, finally finishing the thin and delicate outlines of your piece- the first step, before he will see you again for color and shading. He finally connects the last line, and doesn't think twice about what he says next.

"Good girl."

It takes a second that feels way too long for the both of you to register the words, and Jungkook quickly occupies himself with turning off his gun and cleaning up your skin and his workspace to get the awkwardness out of his room. You try to instantly stand up, but his palm holds onto your leg- silently ordering you to stay put, which you do. He rubs something over the piece, before he gently lifts your leg to wrap it. "I'll give you a bottle of lotion for it. Leave that bandage on for.. I'd say until tomorrow morning at least. Afterwards, apply the lotion everyday to help it heal properly." He lectures you with a gentle voice, before letting you sit up.

"Thanks." You say, grinning eagerly at the now hidden artwork on your leg. Jungkook chuckles.

"We're not done yet, but I'll take it." He says. "I uh.." He starts, as you jump off the stretcher and go to take on your skirt. "uhm, you up for some fast food?" He asks, a bit hurried, before he can chicken out again. And he hates himself for a moment, because you had literally told him just half an hour before that you already had interest in someone else. But maybe you were too innocent to get his innuendo, maybe you wouldn't get that he was asking you on a date-

"Like a date?" You ask, and he really wants to hit himself.

"I mean, if you want it to be?" He says, swallowing as he averts his gaze, a sight very weird. His hand runs through his hair, chain around his neck and piercings on his ears clattering against each other and making sounds as he moves, his combat boots nervously tapping the floor a little. "It doesn't have to be.. I know you're already-"

"I'd love to." You say however, now fully dressed again, as you grin with your bright sparkling eyes.

And Jungkook feels like he's won the lottery.

It's your third time laying on Jungkooks' stretcher like this- waiting for him to work on your art, finishing it today. But the energy is different.

Things are different between you two in general.

After some casual movie dates and rounds of overwatch, Jungkook had admitted to you that he had a crush. It was rushed, while he was driving, so he didn't have to look at you and instantly get hit by your reaction. But then, you had told him that you felt the same- and the two of you agreed to let things process from then on. Whatever would happen; you would let happen.

And Jungkook was starting to flirt with you.

It was a little weird to get close to him like that. While everyone seeing you two was a little taken aback- with your dresses and skirts, and colorful and almost childish personality, he seemed like the absolute opposite- quiet, all dark and dangerous while carrying your milkshake so you could put your phone away into your purse.

"Alright doll, let's finish this." He said with newfound enthusiasm, winking at you as you laughed at his demeanor.

"You seemed more excited than me!" You say, and he chuckles. "You're really desperate to have me gone?" You say in a playfully upset tone, and he simply huffs out a breath, before cockily looking at you for a second.

"That's not true." He says. "I'd just rather have you laid out somewhere else than in my studio, that's all." He casually says, and you shut your mouth at that, cheeks red as he laughs at your cute display of embarrassment. He routinely prepares your skin, before he starts his gun. "Too much?" He asks, and you know he's not talking about the pressure of his ink filled gun on your skin.

"No-" You start, and he now seriously speaks to you, voice a bit muffled through his facemask.

"Please tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable." He says. "You're not upsetting me if you tell me I'm going to far." He says, and you nod, knowing that he now needs a proper answer. Jungkook is way more attentive and romantic than people may think he is. He's a gentleman pulled out of a dictionary- careful and gentle with you, and always keen on getting to know you for you, and not for the person you like to portray yourself as. He wants to know what you like, what you don't like, what you dream of, and what you hate about yourself.

"Don't worry- I will." You say, watching him work on your skin. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums a reply to let you know he's listening. "Is it okay if I sleep?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Didn't I tell you not to stay up for too long before I left yesterday?" He teasingly retorts back to you, and you pout at him- with no hard feelings behind it. He had left last night after eating with you for dinner at your place; and he did indeed tell you to go to sleep a little earlier since he knew you would have an early shift today, opening up the store. "I'm really tempted to say no." He says, eyes now on your skin again as he dips the tip of his gun in a pot of color. "You know, as punishment for not listening." He mumbles, and you almost don't catch it.

Almost.

"Jungkook?" Taehyung stands in his doorway, finally finding him sitting at his desk. "Oh?" He says in a surprised tone, spotting your sleeping figure on his coworkers lap- head resting against the inside of his shoulder, with your arms around his middle.

"Yeah?" Jungkook asks, not at all shy or fazed by the fact that Taehyung is looking at you. "What is it?" He asks again, as Taehyung smiles, giving the younger man his small booklet that you usually give him every morning.

"Nothing left for today." He said. "Just wanted to tell you good work and send you home." The older one explains, zipping up his own jacket. "Guess she'll be coming with you?" He asks teasingly, but Jungkook doesn't bite the bait at all.

"Yeah. Don't burn the house down while we're gone, you two. " He says, slipping the booklet into his pocket before he pats your back. "Come on doll, let's go home." He tells you, waking you up at least enough to put on your shoes and lead you out the store to his car.

He buckles your seatbelt as the engine comes alive, radio playing its tune softly in the background as he drives you home. "You awake doll?" He asks, and you nod your head, turning towards him with barely open eyes. "You haven't had anything proper to eat today, so I'll make us some ramen at my place, ok?" He asks, and you nod, before your eyebrows scrunch up. "What is it?" He chuckles, and you now grow more awake.

"Wait- but if we eat at yours then you're gonna have to drive me home late." You say, and he shrugs. "Noo, Kook, what if you crash the car because you're sleepy?" You tell him with a whine, genuinely concerned for him, as he has the audacity to laugh. "Kookie, it's not funny I swear to god-!" You say, and he apologizes.

"I mean." He starts, casually dropping what he had wanted to ask you for a couple of weeks now. "You could always just stay over." He tells you, and you look at him, meeting his gaze at the red light he stops at, his head turned towards you for a moment until the lights turn green again.

"We.. would have to stop at mine so I could get some stuff though.." You mumble, and Jungkook looks at you with newfound enthusiasm, setting his turning lights to enter a different road.

It's in a parking lot that you first unintentionally confront him with your biggest insecurities and flaws.

You've tripped over a stray stone you didn't see laying on the ground, leading you to fall onto your hands and scraping your knees open. Just like any normal human being, you dust yourself off, instantly hoping that Jungkook inside the shop hadn't seen you fail at something so basic as walking. You had carried some of the items you two had bought into the car while also returning the shopping cart while he had payed- and by the look on his face, he had definitely seen you.

He wasn't laughing, or hiding his grin, or anything alike. He looked concerned, taking his card back from the cashier before walking out the store, jogging towards you, who sat in the open trunk, ready to get laughed at. Even though somewhere deep in your mind you didn't think he would, past experiences had led to you now having that fear, no matter with whom. "Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, looking at you as he squats down to take a look at your bleeding knees. He reaches into one of the shopping bags, taking out a water bottle and a pack of tissues, before he wets it, one hand holding your leg by the backside of your knee, while the other carefully cleans the small wound. "You gotta be careful Baby." He chuckles a little- nothing like the laughter you had expected.

"I'm fine." You say, not looking up at him.

"It's okay to cry, you know?" He says, and you stay quiet, trying not to breathe too much as you desperately hold them back. "I won't laugh." He promises, deciding not to look at you as to give you a bit more space.

"People will stare though.." You quietly murmur towards him, and he finishes his job, before he goes to throw the now used tissue away in a nearby trashcan. When he returns, he's taking his jacket off, the item way too large on your form as he throws it over you, pulling the hood up as you look at him for the first time since your little accident, eyes sparkling with unshed tears when he pulls the sides of the hood towards him a little. "There." He says, a reassuring smile on his face. "Now no one can see you but me." He tells you. "And I will never, ever, laugh at you." He promises, and pulls your head against his chest, as you start to let go.

He really hates to see you cry- but he's glad that you're letting him in enough to let him see you this way.

Jungkook is frustrated.

He tries not to really show it, because he doesn't want to blow up in your face like that, but then again, you're kind of the reason he feels the way he does. Because even though he thought you both had a genuine connection, you're yet to let him touch you.

And not just hugging and holding hands.

It's not that he's impatient- its because he knows you, at one point, wanted him that way as well. But something happened, something he didn't notice, that made you take ten steps backwards from him. You seemed to be retreating, giving up, and he has no idea what he had done to make you react that way.

As far as he knows, he had done everything right.

But then he sees them; the messages sent back and forth between you and Hana, a returning customer at the shop- well known to flirt with everyone around here. Jungkook himself had actually considered hooking up with her once a year back, simply to make her shut up, but then again, he wasn't into one-night-stands. And she had never truly been his type anyways.

'Ah yeah, just re-schedule that then, I don't mind at all! Just make sure we have enough time together, since we haven't had time to catch up on things recently, if you know what I mean.' She had sent, a week ago; exactly the timeframe you had started to distance yourself. He knew he shouldn't look into it, but then again- this was his business too. He had the right to know.

'Sure? I can give you an appointment at around 4 PM then, so you'll be the last one. Would that be okay with you? Again, sorry for re-scheduling on such short notice.' You had written, and Jungkook can't decide if you had been oblivious to her implication (which was bullshit), or if you were simply too polite to call her out. But it's the next messages that make him fume.

'Again, no troubles. As I said, I only care that its Jungkookie, I don't really trust anyone else with my body that way ;). 4 PM is perfect, you guys still close at around 6 PM right? He's got skilled hands, I'm sure we don't need much more time, if you know what I mean.' she has the audacity to write.

But its your answer that makes him fume.

'Good to know.'

"Jungkook?" You say, looking at the screen, as you suddenly dash forwards, trying to shut the screen off- as if that would make any difference. But he catches your wrist with ease, holding it in his palm as he looks at you.

"Do you think I'm sleeping with her?" He asks, and you try to escape his grasp; and he lets you, staying at your workspace however as he keeps you locked in place with his gaze. "Y/N." He urges, making you look away from him.

"It's none of my business." You say, shrugging. "I.. No, it's-" You start, but he cuts you off.

"No, finish that sentence. 'No' what?" He says, and you've never heard him talk like that.

"I just.. didn't think you'd.. do that." You meekly say, murmuring it as he tilts your head gently upwards to look at him; his face now more relaxed as he softly smiles.

"That's good that you think that way." He tells you. "Because I don't do that at all." He says. "She likes to start drama all the time- was probably bitter I turned her down so much. You know what?" He suddenly says, turning towards the screen as he clicks to change the account, opening his own Inbox as he starts to write an E-Mail.

'Appointment is cancelled, be glad I'm not suing you for defamation. JK.'

"Jungkook-" You say, trying to get him not to send it- but it's already gone. "Why would you do that? Just because I misunderstood?" You whine, and he chuckles, shutting down the system as he looks at the clock, signaling that it's closing time.

"No." He says. "But because I don't want her around anyways, and this gives me a proper reason." He tells you, ruffling your hair as he looks at you. "You coming?" He asks, and you nod, taking your bag and coat before following him out the shop.

In the car, you finally speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums out a reply. "Do you.. think I'm attractive?" You ask, and he clears his throat at the unexpected question.

"I- what?" He asks, unsure what you mean.

"Just.. Namjoon said, that he thinks you.. see me as a friend only? Because I'm nothing like the girls you dated before.. If I misunderstood something here then Oh my god-" You start to ramble, and Jungkook laughs suddenly.

"You think I'm not into you?" He asks, and you shrug. "Of course I want to fuck you doll." He casually comments, and you can't help but feel your cheeks redden. "Wait- did you really think I didn't?" He asks, face showing genuine horror as he looks over at you.

"I mean.. you never really initiated anything so I thought.." You started, and he groans out.

Thank god you're staying the night.

"Looks so pretty, does it?" He hums out, palm running over the tattoo on your thigh, delicate lines and well-placed shadings complimenting the colors perfectly. "You know why I love it most?" He starts, hand suddenly gripping the flesh for a moment, before he pulls you closer on his lap by the small of your back. "Because that's mine." He says, before he leans in, placing an open mouthed kiss against your pulse. "The ink that's under your skin, the design, the idea-" He mumbles against your skin. "And the body it's drawn on." You whine at his tone, dark and low, as he urges you back and forth on his clothed thigh- your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Isn't it like that, baby?" He asks, and you nod, furiously, and he chuckles. "Hm, you seem out of breath baby.." He grins at you, like a predator.

"Jungkook.." You whine, not knowing what you're asking for.

He wordlessly moves, helping you lay down on his bed before he crawls over you, his lips instantly attached to the skin of your neck, hands helping you out of your dress wordlessly, as he can't help but let his gaze linger on your body for a moment. "I can't believe that-" He says, pulling off your overknee socks. "-you'd ever think of yourself anything less than perfect." He says, placing a gentle kiss to the colorful image now forever placed under your skin by his skilled hands. He continues to display his affection over your skin, wandering over your stomach up to your chest, where he playfully bites just above your breast. He struggles with the front of your bra for a second, unsure how to open the undergarment without breaking it, as you help a little; letting them spring free. But only for a moment.

Because in the next, he's got them in his hands, palms gently moving over them, feeling their softness as he groans. "You're so sweet." he comments, as he finally kisses your lips, smile interrupting him every now and then. "So soft." Another kiss. "So delicate." Another one. "And all mine, yeah?" He asks, and you nod, smiling as he grins back, the expression making him look so young and carefree you can't help but wonder how anyone could ever think he's a bad man.

He's anything but.

He's so careful touching you, so delicate in moving his palms over your skin, as if its the most divine thing he's ever felt. He's still smiling, as if in a trance, while he can't stop kissing you. Your hands move into his hair- way softer than you thought it would be, and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers running over his scalp.

There's no urgency in anything he does.

He slowly moves again, hands opening your legs for him as he sits back on his heels, playfully pulling you closer by the backs of your knees, making you giggle. "You sound so sweet baby." He tells you, innocently, as if he's not currently placing his hand onto your center, ring finger collecting your already leaking wetness before he spreads it, moving his thumb over your most sensitive bundle of nerves while his ring finger enters you slowly. You whine at the feeling, not enough to get you as riled up as you'd like to be. Also; this is the first time you're genuinely experiencing foreplay. You don't know what to do- and Jungkook seems to pick up on that. "You good?" He asks, and you nod.

"I.." You say, breathless as he tilts his head, smile still present on his lips. "What should I do?" You ask, as his eyes widen.

"You?" He wonders, before he stops for a moment. "Don't tell me- this is your first time?" He asks, now genuinely worried he might've gone too fast.

"No.." You admit. "But uhm.. no one's ever, like.. you know, what you're doing.." You say, and that's when it clicks for him.

What kind of guys did you date before him that never gave you any attention like this? He's upset by it, but also weirdly cheered on by that simple fact; it gives him even more reason to make sure you'll get the most out of it. "Ah, I see.." He humms out, letting another finger stretch your entrance for him. "..well, I'm not like that." He explains, before he moves, face now close to your center- and you're unsure what he's going to do. "Trust me." He says, mumbles out, before his tongue places itself flat onto your clit, licking painfully slow as you move your hands over your mouth, trying to keep your noises in. "nuh-uh baby." He scolds, free hand pulling yours away. "Let me hear you." He demands, before he places his mouth back where it was.

Your mind is completely blank at this moment, the only thing you can really concentrate on being Jungkook, working you up so quickly you feel dizzy. It's new, and it's a little weird- but it's more than anything you've ever experienced before. And it brings you towards your end so suddenly you suddenly gasp out, back arching off the mattress as you grab at the sheets below, one hand grasping for Jungkooks, who lets you ride out your high to its fullest. "So pretty." He comments after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at your blissed out state.

"Kook-" You say, moving as you sit up, less shy now that your brain is still clouded by pleasure.

"Ah- you don't have to." He tells you, but you shake your head, and he lets you. He slips out of his clothes, finally bare, and you would've taken time to look at all the different pieces of art decorating his body- if it wasn't for his cock, red and ready in front of you. Usually, you would've let your insecurities and doubts get the best of you. But this was Jungkook. And you wanted to really believe that nothing you would do could ever be judged by him. So there was no hesitation as your hands reached out for him, gently moving, before you took him in, your lips wrapping themselves around his tip, before you moved downwards, fitting as much as you comfortably could. Meanwhile, Jungkook himself was steadying himself with one hand on the mattress, while the other was buried into your hair, his own head thrown back as he closed his eyes.

Of course he had fantasized about this every now and then; but he had never thought you'd actually be comfortable doing it. And even if- nothing he could've imagined would've ever compared to the real deal happening. There was something absolutely mindblowing about the way that you handled him, your sweet and pretty presence looking so divine doing such a sinful act with him. He had to pull you off by your hair, gently, because any more, and he would've been a goner. "G-Good god baby." He chuckles, pushing you a bit so you were on your back again, reaching for his bedside table to search for a condom. "I swear to god if I- HAH!" He tells you in victory, hands making quick work of opening the foil package and wrapping the safety over his length. "I swear I would've run out butt naked to buy one if I wouldn't have found this." He says with a grin, making you laugh.

"That's weird." You comment, and he chuckles, entering you slowly as to not hurt you, his breathing labored as he still kept the lighthearted energy going.

"You think?" He asks, and you nod, giggling as your eyes close, the feeling of him filling you up too good to keep them open. "Hm no." He said breathlessly. "Would've probably put on some pants maybe." He says, before he starts thrusting. "Doesn't matter if it means I'd get to fuck you." He says, and you giggle again.

"Kook!" You scold him, and he still continues to thrust into you, exhaling forcefully as he kisses your neck.

"What?" He whines high pitched as if to imitate you.

"Be serious!" You tell him, but can't help your own smile either.

"Oh, why though?" He says. "We're making love, not war baby." He whispers into your ear, and you still laugh at it.

"I can't believe you!" You complain playfully, moaning out when he suddenly thrusts with more force, obscene noises now interrupting you two as he picks up his pace, clenching his jaw.

"And-" He starts. "I can't believe how fucking good you feel." He presses out, hand now reaching between the two of you as he brings you towards an earth-shattering orgasm, making you mewl as you can feel yourself bursting. "Good girl!" He praises, watching as you squirt all over him, his own orgasm hitting him soon after as he grunts out, finally slowing down until he stills completely, his mouth attached to your neck to place gentle kisses and teasing bites near your pulse point.

"I love you." He mumbles out, and your eyes sting.

Because yeah, you love him- you absolutely do, but hearing it from him, hearing it in such an honest and warm-hearted tone, having this final proof of his own feelings towards you, makes you emotional. "Baby, why're you crying?" He chuckles out of breath, wiping your tears as you smile, and finally look at him with glossy eyes.

"Cause I love you too." You say. "So much."

And he can't help but grin at you.

You really are the sweetest thing.

You watch as Hana walks out of Taehyungs studio, arm wrapped up in clear foil as she walks towards your counter, pulling out her purse. "Taehyung agreed on 345." She says, until Taehyung yells another number out of his studio, making her eyes roll. She wasn't supposed to come back- but Taehyung had agreed to finish her piece at least. "Alright, here you go." She says, watching as you counted the money. "Does Jungkook work today?" She asks, and you nod. "I'm just gonna go say hi then. You can finish the receipt yeah?" She says overly sweet, and you're about to tell her that Jungkook doesn't want anyone entering without his permission, but he's already walking out his studio, black sweater and silver necklaces on full display as he walks towards you. "Jungkookie!" Hana exclaims, but her face drops almost chomically as she watches Jungkook walk up behind you, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder as he looks over it onto your screen.

"Oh, looks like I'm done for the day. You need anything Hana?" He asks innocently, one hand on your desk while the other rests on your chair behind your back.

"I- just wanted to apologize for uhm.. the emails. I didn't know you'd read them." She says, and you slowly close all programs, while Jungkooks humms out something.

"Yeah, I figured." He says, before he shakes his head. "As I said, I'm letting it go. No hard feelings." He says, shrugging, before he walks towards his studio again, stopping in his tracks for a second. "Ah, baby, can you text Jin-Hyung and ask him if we can come now? I'm actually starving I swear." He says, and you nod with red cheeks, pulling out your phone.

"Huh." Comes from Hana, as she takes the receipt from you. "I honestly.. would've never thought." She mumbles, before she simply leaves, without any more words.

Yeah. You would've honestly never thought either.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi.com/bonnykookoo. Thank you for reading.

[lyssismagical]

Maybe 28 and 57 for the prompt writing? That would be really cute 💖

28 - “No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

57 - “Who changed the thermostat settings? I’m freezing to death.” 

Idk how it happened but nearly 4k words of Cheerleading Captain!Peter x Quarterback!Harley for your consideration

 *

Joining a new school in junior year wasn’t easy. Moving from Tennessee to New York was even harder.

But if there was one thing Harley had on his side, he was a fantastic football player. And everyone knew football players were top of the social pyramid.

“Quarterback? Really?” One of the boys say when he says it to the coach. “You think the new kid will get the position?”

Harley shrugs. “I played in Tennessee. I won every game.”

The coach lifts an eyebrow and then nods in approval. “Ever since the schoolboard started talking about implementing athletics at a STEM school, we’ve been pretty emptyhanded. Not enough students willing to drop robotics to join a team, not enough good students. We won one game last year out of a total of nearly fifteen.”

With a smug grin, he rolls his shoulders and slips his helmet over his head.

He gets Quarterback with ease.

As he’s leaving the field after tryouts, he notices a group of girls and a boy congregating by the bleachers, all dressed in blue and gold.

“You’re new here,” a girl says, appearing beside him. He recognizes her, having been sitting in the bleachers alone during tryouts. She’s not wearing a football uniform or the ones the group across from them is wearing.

“Harley Keener,” he replies. “You’re Michelle, right? You’re in my chemistry class.”

She offers half a smile. “MJ. I heard you landed Quarterback.”

“Not that it was particularly hard, there’s not much competition.”

Looping their arms together, she leads him a few more feet away from the group. “They’re the cheerleaders in case you didn’t know. Cindy, the one with the pink water bottle, she’s co-captain. And Peter Parker is captain, he’s been captain since freshman year.”  

“He’s captain?”

MJ’s smile turns knowing. “Yeah, he’s captain. Too bad you missed him in freshman year. The school didn’t have the budget for two sets of cheerleader uniforms, so Peter had to wear the short skirt the whole first year. I had to teach him how to shave his legs. Now he gets to wear pants.”

Harley turns, pretends not to look, but still says, “The pants are nice.”

“I know what that’s code for,” MJ laughs.

Indignant, Harley huffs, “I’m not a creep, his pants are just really tight.”

“Well, he is both single and bisexual, so if you’re courageous enough, I’d say to shoot your shot, Keener.”

Before Harley has the time to reply, MJ’s already walking off towards the school, without even a glance over her shoulder.

Harley’s not courageous enough to ask Peter out. All he does is wave from a distance, reveling in Peter’s little smile in return before making his way to the locker rooms.

* The first game of the season they nearly lose thanks to Harley’s constant staring at Peter on the sidelines.

The next two games, he focuses so intently on winning for Peter that they totally annihilate the other teams.

At the end of their third game, a home game, Harley’s on his way to the showers, grinning at his teammates when Peter catches up to them.

“Congratulations on your win,” he says.

Harley’s stunned into silence. It’s the first time he’s really seen Peter up close. They only share one class together, Spanish, and they sit on opposite ends, with Harley only able to see the back of his head.

But Peter’s gorgeous.

His brown curls are messy from the last few hours of cheering on the sidelines and the halftime show, some of it still sticking to his forehead. His pale skin is practically glowing in the lights of the field, bambi-brown eyes sparkling and wide, and chest still heaving from the exertion of their last, over-the-top performance. His arms are practically straining in the tight t-shirt he’s wearing, the gold accents making his eyes look a little more honey, smile wide on his face.

“I, uh-” Harley chokes out, cursing himself for acting dumb. “Thank you. You guys were pretty incredible.”

“Thanks.” A soft blush rises on his cheeks, makes him look down, smile turning shy. “Good luck on your next game. The Brooklyn Team’s the best in state.”

Harley can’t help the frown. “You won’t be there?”

“I’ve got Academic Decathlon competition in DC that weekend. But good luck anyways.”

“You too…” Harley feels like his chest is constricting over the knowledge that Peter’s smart too. “I, uh, I guess I’ll see you around?”

Peter smiles sweetly and leans up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

* Over the next few weeks of short conversations after games or practices, Harley finds himself watching Peter all the time.

Peter wears his cheerleading uniform all day everyday like the others do, head held high and students parting for him like he’s royalty. He’s friends with pretty much everyone, sending smiles and having short conversations as he goes down the hallway to class.

He’s also unbelievably kind, stopping teasing at every chance he gets, using his popularity to keep people in line, being nice to even the nerdiest looking freshmen.

Harley finds himself falling hard the longer he knows Peter.

Watching the way he moves with grace and confidence in such contrast to the way he blushes and smiles shyly whenever he’s complimented. It makes Harley’s heart clench with this crush that feels like it’s developing way too fast for his own comfort.

* “Could I talk to you?” Peter asks him after practice.

Harley’s still sweaty, still uncomfortably warm in his pads and uniform, helmet dangling from his fingertips leaving his hair messy and ruffled. But he offers a smile. “Yeah, everything okay?”

The cheerleader looks uncomfortable, turning his gaze to the grass, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Hey,” Harley says, voice dropping low and quiet as he pulls them farther away from their teams, trying his best to keep his thoughts away from Peter’s bicep flexing wondrously beneath his fingers. “You can talk to me, whatever it is.”

“It’s just embarrassing…” Peter looks up at Harley through his eyelashes. “My grades have dropped in a few of my classes, and I know we only share Spanish, but I kinda got MJ to snoop and it turns out you have one of the highest GPA’s in school.”

Harley frowns because that can’t possibly be right. “From what I’ve seen in Spanish class, you seem really smart.”

“Well, I don’t want to sound overly confident, but I am smart. I’ve just had a bad habit of slacking off when it comes to homework. So my grades aren’t looking too hot and my aunt threatened to make drop out of cheerleading if I didn’t get it in order.”

Offering a reassuring smile, Harley nods. “Not really tutoring, but I can sit with you in the library and help you work through the homework? More like study date- sessions. Study sessions.”

Peter positively lights up in a grin. “Wow, really? Thank you! I’ve got cheerleading practice three nights a week and Academic Decathlon every other night, so I’m not really free, but if you’re willing to hang out after your football practices…”

“Yeah, of course, sounds perfect. We’ll start Wednesday?”

“Yes! Thank you! I promise I’ll be a good study partner. I’ll see you around, Harley!”

And with that, Peter skips off to catch up with his cheerleader friends.

Harley can only shake his head in wonder and head off to the lockers.

* Wednesday comes quickly, and Harley’s glad because with how much time he spends daydreaming about Peter, he’s not sure he can keep up his grades either.

But soon enough, he’s waiting outside the locker rooms for Peter, hoping that the shower was enough to wash away the sweat from the tough practice.

“Hey!” Peter says, bubbly and smiling brightly. “I know we said we’d study at the library, but I’m getting a little bit sick of being inside all day. Do you want to work out on the bleachers?”

Harley nods, swallowing thickly and trying his best to keep his eyes strictly on Peter face and not watch his arms or his neck or his legs. “Sounds good.”

They head out into the setting sun, playfully nudging shoulders and nearly racing each other to get to the bleachers first, which ends in Peter laughing and shouting when he makes it their first.

“So, I heard from MJ this morning that you were being unbelievably humble when you said you were smart. She said you have a genius IQ. And you needed study help, why?”

“I told you,” Peter says, laughing. “I haven’t done homework in nearly three years. My grades are solely based on test scores and participation which would be fine if the take-home projects weren’t weighted so heavily.”

Harley rolls his eyes but takes out his Chemistry textbook anyways. “Alright, let’s get you caught up then. You’ve got nearly two months of homework to catch up on.”

“Let’s do this then.”

It turns out, Harley loves watching Peter work. He really is a genius, easily getting the work done like it’s second nature to him, able to answer mathematical equations without a calculator or a second thought, speed reading his way through chapters in the textbook. And it definitely helps that he looks absolutely stunning in the light of the setting sun and the gentle wind.

Eventually, though, they can’t stay much longer with the fading, and curfew closing in.

“Thanks for your help today… Same time Friday?” Peter asks, eyes all wide and hopeful, smile sweet.

“Actually, not to be presumptuous, but we’d have more time if we hung out for longer… Would you want to come over? Spend the night? We could work later and get more done on Saturday?”

Peter thinks about it for a moment and then he shrugs. “I don’t think my aunt would be happy with me spending the night, but you’re welcome to come to mine?”

“Sounds like a plan, Parker. You need a ride home?”

“Sure, yeah, thanks.”

Harley helps pack up their things and then takes Peter’s bag before leading him out to his truck. He opens the door for Peter, memorizing the dazzling smile he gives in return.

They only have half an hour together on the drive home, but it’s enough time for them to share more personal information.

Harley tells Peter about his sister and his mom, about Tennessee and how different life was there, how much he loves New York in comparison. He talks about getting quarterback, winning games, being on top of the social hierarchy for the first time in his life.

Peter, in turn, mentions quietly how he was bullied in the ninth grade before and when he first joined the cheerleaders. How at first, people told him it was girls team, that it wasn’t meant for him. But then they won their first trophy which snowballed into him becoming captain and leading them to win nationals and get them fifth in worlds. And then, very quickly, he became the most popular kid in school.

By the time they reach Peter’s apartment, Harley feels like they’ve grown closer and he doesn’t want to say goodbye to him.

“Today was really nice,” Peter murmurs, leaning across to kiss Harley on the cheek. “Thanks for helping me out. I’ll see you at school tomorrow and then Friday night?”

The words are on the tip of his tongue, wanting to ask Peter out, change Friday Night into a Date Night instead of a Study Session.

But then Peter’s hopping out of his truck, bag slung over his shoulder and gold accents of his uniform glimmering in the streetlights. And Harley misses his chance.

* Peter’s quiet the whole way to his apartment, bag sitting in his lap.

He looks almost out of place in the outside world while still in his Midtown Cheerleading Uniform. But Harley’s still in his jersey, so it’s not so strange in comparison.

Peter leads him into his cozy apartment, empty apart from them, and they make themselves at home in the living room around the coffee table.

“Everything okay?” Harley asks, almost startling himself with his own voice. He was planning on leaving it alone, he’s not really Peter’s friend.

“Yeah, I just kind of have a lot riding on this.” Peter’s quiet for a second, fiddling with his nails before he explains, “I can’t afford to go to a school like Midtown, but I got awarded a full ride. If I don’t get my grades up, I might be put on academic probation, have my scholarship taken away… I’d have to switch schools for my senior year, also meaning I’d probably lose the university scholarships I might’ve been offered for cheerleading.”

Harley mulls over it for a moment before shrugging. “Well, you have a very good study partner on your side. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your grades are up by exams. Don’t start thinking of the worst-case scenarios just yet.”

The tenseness leaves Peter’s shoulders in one exhale, expression softening. “Thanks. I don’t want to put pressure on you, but-”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Smiling, Peter opens his bag and they get to work.

Time passes quickly when they’re focused on getting things done, it’s not hard for Peter to get closer and closer to catching up, but there’s only so much they can do before boredom and hunger starts to set in.

They order pizza, Harley offering to pay but Peter insistent after Harley’s helped him so much.

“You know,” Harley says after Peter gets off the phone, “Breaks are important to keep up consistent work.”

Peter grins knowingly, flopping down onto the couch beside Harley. “Are they?”

“As an avid homework-doer and studier, I can totally say that breaks are important. So, I suggest we do pizza and a movie, and then a bit more work before bed.”

“Of course. And as someone who doesn’t do homework or study, I can’t disagree with anything you say. Here.” Peter gives him the TV remote. “Let me go get changed, I can only wear this for so long before I start craving sweatpants, and when I get back, we’ll start on a movie of your choosing.”

Harley picks out Star Wars, seemingly a safe bet considering the very obvious Star Wars poster stuck to the wall above the couch, and texts Abbie in the meantime who teases him endlessly, already having figured out his crush on Peter.

“Star Wars! It’s like you read my mind!” Peter calls out, slipping around the couch.

“I mean there’s science so it’s-” But the words are gone as soon as he sees Peter.

He looks so much different than the Cheerleading Captain Harley’s always seen him as, tucked in a pair of loose sweatpants and an even looser t-shirt, hair mussed and body relaxed. God, if Harley thought he looked incredible in his uniform, it’s nothing compared to the way he looks relaxed and content in lounge clothes.

“So it’s…” Peter prompts, forehead creasing but smiling in amusement.

“Sorry, I- You’re just- Sorry, I’ve never seen you outside your uniform before,” Harley says, voice suddenly thick. “The movie’s educational, that’s all.”

Peter giggles, sitting down beside Harley, against Harley, and presses play so the beginning credits begin to roll. “I’m going to take that as a compliment, but I don’t think Star Wars counts as educational.”

“It is a compliment!” Harley gasps, higher than he means it to come out. “I was just surprised is all… You’re- It’s just- Wow.”

He laughs again. “Wow? For someone with a nearly perfect GPA, that’s not the most articulate compliment.”

“I meant- Oh god, I’m totally embarrassing myself, aren’t I?” He runs a hand through his hair, feeling his face flush warmly. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s sweet. I get a lot of compliments, but most about how my ass looks in the uniform, so I do appreciate being complimenting for being wow while in sweats.”

Harley’s eyes go wide, and he’s quick to try to redeem himself, “You’re just really pretty is all! That was worse than wow, wasn’t it? I’m just making this worse.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Peter repeats, eyes so soft and open and earnest. “That’s a new one.”

For once, Harley manages to keep his mouth shut, not wanting to say anything more, but Peter’s still blushing and smiling when he turns back to the TV, shaking his head fondly.

*

Long after pizza and their movie’s done, homework continued through until they were laughing too much to continue to think straight, Peter finally calls it a night.

Harley changes in the bathroom and purposefully leaves his jersey on the back of the couch, while Peter makes him a bed on the couch.

It would’ve been a good time, Harley knows, to ask that question, to see if this will lead in another direction, but he chickens out and ends up just with, “Goodnight, Peter.”

And Peter smiles, all warm and sweet, and he murmurs, “Night, Harley.”

And that’s that.

In the morning, Harley wakes to the smell of coffee.

He pretends he’s still asleep when he hears voices drifting in from the kitchen.

“So that’s the infamous Harley Keener,” a woman says, Harley guesses it’s Peter’s aunt.

“He’s helping me get my grades up.”

The woman laughs. “For someone with a genius IQ, I don’t know how you managed to let your grades drop like that. It’s not his fault? Or cheerleading?”

“No, May, I promise I’m working on it.”

“Good. Don’t let him get in the way of your education or focus, honey. Don’t let him hurt you, alright?”

Harley finally stretches up, making himself known as awake. He yawns, looking over the back of the couch towards the kitchen. “Morning.”

Peter lights up in a smile. “Morning, Harley. You want coffee?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He slips up just as May says she’s off to bed, still wearing her nurse scrubs, and he offers a quiet greeting to her on her way out.

And then it’s just him and Peter.

“Sleep well?” Harley asks when the silence stretches a second too long. Peter nods, passing him the mug of hot coffee. It’s a Star Wars mug and he can feel his cheeks warm.

“We don’t really have much breakfast food… You wanna maybe go out somewhere to get some?”

Harley, still sleep-warm and relaxed, jumps as the chance. “Do you want to go out? Like on a proper date? Breakfast? On me?”

“The quarterback with the cheerleading captain?” Peter says. “That’s a bit of a cliché, isn’t it?”

“I suppose. Is that a no?”

Peter seems to ponder it for a moment before he shrugs. “I kind of love clichés.”

“Breakfast then.”

Grinning, Peter nods, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Let me get dressed and then we’ll go.”

“Perfect.”

As soon as he’s left alone in the kitchen, he pumps his fists in the air, barely managing to stifle his excited cheer.

“I saw that!” Peter calls out.

Flushing, Harley quickly sets down his coffee, grabs his bag and heads to the bathroom to get changed quickly, wishing he’d packed something nicer than jeans and a flannel.

“I’m surprised you’re not in your uniform,” he says when he sees Peter waiting by the door.

He’s wearing a pair of tight jeans and a simple t-shirt, grinning just as bright as always.

“I only wear it at school.”

Harley shrugs. “I was starting to think it was the only thing you owned.”

Peter links their hands together and pulls open the door, smiling just as bright as ever.

* All eyes turn towards the cafeteria doors.

“Oh my god-” Betty breathes from near Harley.

He looks over his shoulder, expecting to see something vaguely newsworthy but otherwise boring, but instead finds Peter.

Peter who’s wearing his blue and gold cheerleading uniform as always, curls messy and cheeks flushed pink, except he’s wearing a jersey over his uniform.

Harley’s jersey.

“Who changed the thermostat settings? I’m freezing to death,” Peter calls out, dramatically loudly to get the rest of the student’s eyes on him.

Harley trips up to his feet, eyes wide and shocked because after one date, Peter’s already announcing it to the world.

“You left this at my place,” Peter says, walking up to him. His eyes are bright and amused like he expected Harley to get this flustered. His voice drops to nearly a whisper. “I know it’s soon but I saw you staring, saw you watching me during practices. The only reason I saw is because I was watching you too. I want to make this official.”

“Yeah, I- Yeah, I want that.”

Peter grins, kissing Harley on the mouth for the first time, they’d parted yesterday with only a kiss on the cheek. When he pulls away, he’s still smiling. “Sorry about doing this here. I couldn’t wait. Too much?”

“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes,” Harley chokes out. “I’m just- You look good. I didn’t expect you to like me too.”

“I do. I really do.”

Harley finally smiles back at him, grabbing Peter by the waist to kiss him again. “You want to go out with me again? Wednesday? After practice?”

“I would love to. Can I- Would it be okay for it to be as boyfriends?”

“Okay? Yes, more than okay. I would really love that.”

Peter laughs, tucking himself close to Harley’s chest. “Wow. Boyfriends.”

For the rest of the year and the following year, they’re considered Midtown’s Power Couple.

And when they make it MIT together, Peter having managed near-perfect grades with Harley’s help, they’re considered MIT’s Power Couple too.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @spidey-reids-2003  @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed  @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @justme--emily  @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

[seancekitsch]

Prize Buck

I’m out of my hiatus. I was asked for Klaus Headcanons, wrote a smut fic after work today instead whoops

A/N: drug use, addiction, oral(m/f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap that shit folx), female or nb afab reader, thinking sad thoughts while doing sexy things, sorta sub!Klaus, mental health issues, roughness, unedited, i added a line that only makes sense if you read the comics

———————————————

“You’re seriously telling me you’ve never done this? You?” Klaus asks, bringing the bowl and the lighter closer to you. You hadn’t, in honesty. You were the worlds most casual of casual stoners. You’d roll a joint if the mood struck you; meticulously crafted and thin for the perfect little heady time. Or you’d take a hit from a bong at a friends house, only if they offered to smoke you out. Really though, weed wasn’t your thing, it just had to become a part of the routine now because there weren’t other options. You couldn’t get your normal poison, amphetamines, so feeling uncontrollably sluggish instead of uncontrollably wired was the new normal.

A non-committal head shake was all you could offer. He was right to be incredulous at that revelation. You had met in rehab, for god’s sake. Klaus had, no HAS, a lot of problems, some you watched him scream and sweat through during his first week in the room across the hall from you. You were the one that he woke up constantly, because your crash left you near coma and crying when you were conscious. Despite making your recovery hell, he was the only one you could talk to when the tears subsided. Before rehab, you were a a published scholar at the height of your career, working with a newly discovered artifact from an anthropology dig. You’d spent your career hopped up on all of the meds you could find, culminating this research, staying up for thirteen days before having a breakdown in which you break the artifact from shaking so hard and crash your car fleeing the research center with your writing.

Weed was new. It was never your thing. But Klaus was new too, and he was your thing. You’d become fast friends in group therapy sessions, and inseparable out of them. It was unorthodox and frowned upon, but you became roommates once you’d gotten out. Just a small studio above a shop. A couch and a mattress that you’d switch off sleeping on, or you’d just both crash on the flood a hairs breadth away from snuggling. But it was the option that worked. You’d both confided that true sobriety wasn’t an option. So instead of anything hard, it was weed and alcohol. This was something that wouldn’t kill you or get you sent back. Controllable. And maybe one day you’d be able to go into a different field. Get an apartment with an actual bedroom. Maybe he could be able to shut out some of his power. But for now, this is what would work. It was a transition that made sense to you.

“I just can’t believe you’ve never shotgunned a bowl. Don’t all the great writers have their little parties where they smoke each other out? Isn’t that how Mary and Percy had that orgy with Lord Byron?” You wanted to correct him that you were a disgraced anthropologist, not a writer, but his warm thigh nudging yours reminds you now isn’t really the time. You give a weak smile instead.

“I guess since you’re the only person I smoke with, you’d be the only person to shotgun me.” He scooches closer to you, earthy scent already working wonders to entrance you. You wonder if he knew he had this effect on your mind and body.

“So you’ll let me shoot you now?” He asks. You smile, a little anxious, a little toothy.

“Shoot me? What am I, a ten point buck?”

There’s going to be a great feat of self control to keep yourself from jumping the curly haired man next to you, and self control is not one of your strong suits. You were head over heels in lust with Klaus and you didn’t even know if he was into women.

He begins with an unceremonious prodding at the fresh ground bud in the glass bowl with his pinky. Then he flicks the gas station lighter once. Twice. A spark. The flame dips into the bowl and there’s a soft crackle that’s accompanied and fueled by Klaus’ plump lips wrapping around the head of the pipe. It’s almost obscene to look at and you find yourself shifting uncomfortably. Well, not uncomfortably, but not in a way that’s appropriate for this setting. There’s probably more than a slight chance Klaus knows you’re aroused, but he’s being polite about it. Even now, as his lungs are filling up with smoke, and he’s puffing out his cheeks like a chipmunk, there’s this ebbing and throbbing between your legs.

And now, for the shotgun itself. You know he’s blowing all the smoke in his body into your mouth, but the last thing you expect is how it feels to actually have his lips on yours. At first he’s methodical, a slow diaphragm push of smoke into your mouth, your lips parted slightly and drinking in the smoke as it comes. But no, that’s not enough; not giving Klaus enough access to deliver the goods. He makes quick work of parting your lips further by a harsh squeeze to your jaw. The way the smoke and his tongue invade your mouth does nothing to help curb the lack of self control you possess as you moan wantonly into the kiss. The shotgun. You could be addicted to this alone.

By the time he pulls away, you feel like a balloon in that you’re floating, and the hand you have securely placed on your roommates thigh is the only thing keeping you from floating out the window and into some electrical wires or into a tree for birds to choke to death on. You start low, reddened eyes looking from your hand on his thigh, up to his chest. Klaus’ chest is almost always bare. His arms and the muscles of his abdomen were littered with the odd scar and tattoo here and there. He told you they’re from fighting in Vietnam in the 1960s and France in the 1400s. When he said it, he was so earnest you could do nothing but believe him. Then your eyes travel a little more north, to his lips. He needs a shave; his mustache and his chin getting a bit too scraggly, but they tickled when you came together for the smoke. And then you finally meet his eyes, unabashed that you just drank him in like lemonade. His pupils are blown wide when you finally look into them; not something weed would do to you. No, this was something else.

“Another?” He asks, voice trembling and breathy, not above a whisper.

“I- I want more.” Your voice coming out a tad huskier than you intended, not masking how his actions had an effect on you. Your skirt feels entirely too open right now. If you were wearing jeans, or tight pants like his, you’d feel some kind of restraint. Like a chastity belt, you think, some real medieval torture. But it would be all too easy to lift this skirt, or even to shift your hips and grind against something for even a tiny iota of relief.

You don’t even watch Klaus take the hit this time, only turning your head back to face him when you hear him stop sucking. This time, he sets the bowl down before leaning in. Your mouth is open and ready for him, already a quick learner from what just transpired. So Klaus doesn’t grab your jaw this time. Instead, he grabs the hand that’s still resting on his thigh.

And he shoves it towards the crotch of his pants.

Where your open palm lands clumsy and hard against the hardness straining at his pants.

He groans as contact is made and almost coughs the rest of the smoke into your mouth, but you’re there to suck it down in stride. There’s only a quick pause for you to exhale this now twice filtered smoke before your lips re-attach to his, the bowl and lighter now forgotten.

His hand drifts to your jaw a second time, before sliding down further to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, until it strains your back. He knows you fell asleep on the couch last night, so he knows how much this burns your taught muscles. All to his advantage it seems, as you shift your weight to your knee before turning and straddling him, all without breaking the kiss or your removing your hand from his clothed cock. Your skirt pools at where both of your hips meet, and he readjusts it -ever the gentleman- for you as you begin to knead and squeeze him beneath your hand.

Instead of smoke now, your mouths fill with the moans and sighs of each other, both refusing to end the kissing first and both running out of air. The onslaught of kissing continues through some under the shirt fondling, through Klaus less than gently pinching at your nipples, through you unbuttoning Klaus’ pants- now much too tight. He only breaks the kiss finally to beckon you,

“Stand up, I’ve got something else I want to show you”

Wobbly, you give his clothed cock one more squeeze before you rise to your feet.

While you move to reposition, standing over him now with your skirt bunched in one hand and your panties in another, he shimmies his pants down to his knees. All of your wondering if he was into more than just men is silenced when his tongue makes first contact with your clit. He takes the time to swirl his tongue tantalizingly slow, then quickly flicking his tongue upward, making your knees buckle until they land at the back of the couch just above his shoulders. You lean into it as he writes letters to you with his tongue, teasing the entrance to your cunt with his fingers and gathering the wetness until his fingers are slick.

You’re about to beg for it, cry for his fingers to penetrate you, but you don’t have to because he plunges in to the hilt. There is no easing into it, he thrusts his middle and ring finger at a break neck speed. Your skin feels white hot and the only purchase you can find is in squeezing the fabric balled in your palms and Klaus skewers you and torches every one of your nerve endings with his hot mouth and fingers.

Your high is coming to a head, literally and figuratively, when Klaus retracts all attention. You whine, pouting and pitiful, when he says something that surprises you:

“You’re gonna cum, right? Order me. Order me to make you cum. I’ll obey.”

So you do.

“Fuck— Klaus. Fuck! Make me cum. Make me cum on your face.”

When he returns to your cunt he’s unmerciful, working you back up to and through your high before you can even realize it’s happening. You barely savor it before you’re convulsing, sinking your knees further until they rest on his shoulders and he has to grab you by the ass to hold you up. You hadn’t been touched like this since before you had met Klaus, and you wanted more. Insatiable and prone, you make your next move untangling yourself from his grasp.

Sinking down, you feel the old wood creak beneath your stiff knees. This would hurt like a bitch, but when Klaus smiles down at you with his face covered in the wetness of your orgasm, you can’t find a reason to care. His smile is genuine, wide and splitting, the same look he gives you when you come home with pizza. Well, this was about to be better than pizza. The tip of your tongue touches the head of his cock first, a tiny testing lick earning a full body shudder from the man in front of you.

“Please don’t tease. Do a guy a favor. Please baby?”

You’re a sucker for his pleading, and just as he didn’t give you time to adjust, you don’t give him any warning before you sink your entire mouth down on him, only stopping to hollow out your cheeks when his tip hits the back of your throat. You hold it there for a moment, and then only gag as your lungs run out of oxygen. Klaus could be a substitute for oxygen, you’d gladly rather take him in than anything you would have tried before.

He whines, you notice. High pitched and needy. He would probably do anything I asked right now to cum, you think, but you quickly dismiss the thought. In a way you’re glad it’s you sucking his soul out through his cock and no one else, because he’s putting so much of himself into this. You wonder if he’s been taken advantage before. You hope not.

You banish the thought by moaning around the head of his cock. You revel in his reaction, to bury both of his hands in your hair as he all but sobs out “oh god please keep doing that” or something like that, you can’t really tell for sure over the rush his touch sends straight back down to your core.

As much as you want to worship his cock, your own tears from gagging on it start to sting your eyes. So you pull off him, just long enough to ask,

“Do you want me to finish you like this? Or another way?” Pausing to kiss the underside of his cock before adding, “You can have any part of me you want”

It’s like a flip switches, and he’s pulling you back up, pulling your skirt down and off of you in fluid motion, before you take your spot straddling him again. Impatient, he pushes you down onto him, thrusting away immediately finding a groove.

“Oh I’m gonna make you cum— gonna be real good for you. M-make you feel real good.” He’s a stuttering, groaning mess as he thrusts up into you.

“You feel amazing inside me. You’re doing so good, Klaus. Making me feel amazing,” you coo, doing everything to praise and encourage him. “I’m gonna cum, can you feel that? It’s all for you, do you want that— OH”

The thought caught mid air stopped short by a particularly accurate thrust right into a spot that makes you scream, your second orgasm of the afternoon now much closer than it had been. You feel your muscles clench as you bear down on him, trying to make Klaus hit that spot over and over. By the way his rhythm is almost non existent, you can tell he’s almost there too.

Something crosses your mind, and before you fully process the thought, one of your hands is wrapping around his throat, fingers and thumb squeezing deftly so that you don’t close the airway, but that he sees stars. That does it.

Klaus cumming is almost more beautiful than it feels. His cock twitches and paints your insides, and you cum from the sensation as well, but the blissed-out fucked-out face smiling up at you is to see heaven itself. His eyeliner is streaked with tears, his lips swollen and bruised, a smile splitting his face in two.

You move to get up, maybe clean yourself up, but at least put your panties back on. Klaus stops you though with his hands gently but firmly on your hips, holding you in place.

“Just stay. For a bit. I’m not one of those dames you can deflower and avoid their calling cards.”

A snort of laughter. A joke covering real insecurity; you can see right through it.

“Klaus, you were deflowered long before I ever got here, but I’m not gonna go anywhere. You shot me, I’m your prize buck.”

[cosplaydude637]

Chapter one: normal days.

New York is a city field of all kinds of people. going from place to place leaving their lives. What everyday people did not know is that there small little world was all fake. For underneath all the coffee dates and business. There is a world of darkness a Shadow world.

In this world, we have guardians called Shadowhunters or “police for Downworlders”. They are humans that have angel blood. The angel blood allows them to use rune to enhance their already heightened natural abilities to battle rouge downworlders or demons.

Jace Lightwood Herondale is one of these guardians. He is a tail man with saggy blind hear and golden eyes his body was covered in black marks and a long sword was griped in his right hand. His eyes were locked on a huge wolf that’s stands in front of him. “Torrent don’t make me do this.” Jace pleads throw his teeth. The wild wolf Just snorts and lunges at Jace.

Jace quickly doges to the side. So fast no mondane could of seen him. The wolf slide on the wet grass of Central Park. It turns and finds Jace right in front if it’s face. Jace brings his sword down quickly and blood shouts out from the wolf’s head and now a human ear lays on the grass. “Torrent you have broken the law and if you continue to hunt Mondanes I will be forst to kill you.” Jace grips his sword handle ready for another attack.

“Torrent he will do it” says a girl voice. Jace smirks as a black girl walks up behind him. “It's about time you got here Maia.” Jace says as his body losses.

“Sorry the pack was on a hunt last night. I did not get your note tell today.” Maia replies. Maia Roberts was the leader of the New York wolf pack. She was a slender girl with curly black hair. She did have a aura of leadership to her. “Did you have to cut his ear off?” She asks.

“It was a ear or his life. I think the ear was a batter idea.” Jace snickers. Slow the huge wolf turned back into a teen boy with his left ear cut off.

“I will kill you shadowhunter!” Torrent snapped. Maia looks at Torrent with a stern look and he drops his head in somishen.

“Lisson cub and lisson good you got a chose to make. Join my pack and deal with the punishment I give you or.” Maia says

“Or I kill you for breaking the Law” Jace smirks. Torrent looked form Maia and Jace then charged at them full speed his transformation beginning. Maia was way more skilled and was able to change in to her wolf form in a split second and attacked Torrent her jaws biting down on his throat. Jace sheaths his sword and shakes his head in disapment. There is a loud snapping sound and Torrents human body falls to the grass. Maia turns back to normal spitting out blood. “I really don’t like having to do that.” She spits out angrily.

“I know Maia but he left us no choose. If he head not joined your pack the clave would of sent the order to kill him. He murdered four Mondanes.” Jace stats laying a hand on Maia shoulder.

“I know but it still sucks. We will deal with the body. He is of are kind after all. A child of the moon.” Maia gives a wisale and two very big men come out of the tree line and pick up the body. One slow picks up the ear and holds it out with two fingers. They nodded at Maia and walk off. “Say where is Clary and the others?” Maia asked looking around.

“Clary is with her mom and Luke getting them saddled in at the academy. Alec and Magnus are off somewhere with the boys. Ask for Izzy and Simon there still on their honeymoon.” Jace says with a black face.

“Man how long they going to be in Israel?” Maia retorts. Jace just shrugs. The two walk over to the street where his Motorcycle sits. “You have a Vampire bike?” She asks.

Jace smirks and looks at his bike with admiration. “Yep the Vamp clan made it for me after that event with the ogre attack on the hotels dumort.” He responds with joy. Maia just shakes her head and start off for the subway. “See ya later blondy” she waves. “Later fle bags,” Jace chuckles and jumps on his bike and speeds off.

In Manhattan live Magnus and Alec. In side there home kayus is happening. Max a blue skinned worlock child is running after a young black haired shadowhunter child named Raphael. “Daddy help!!!” Raphael says running into the kitchen and ducking be hind Alec’s leg.

“Wow wow wow what’s going on?” Alec asks looking at his boys.

“Dad he broke my Harry Potter wand.” Max says holding up two pieces of a toy wand.

“I didn't mean to I was just practicing my dagger throws Ankle Jace showed me.” Raphael cry’s.

Alec lets out a heavy sigh. “Where's papa?”

“He was in the study last we saw him.” Max says glaring at his younger brother. Raphael head more behind Alec.

“Ok Max we will get you a new wand and Raphael no more knife throwing in bedrooms.” Alec takes the wand from Max and then rifles both his boys hair. “Go play with Chairman Meow for a bit boys.” The two kids hug their Dad and runoff and a few scents later there is the sound of a cat crying out in tirrer. “I side play not kill!”

Alec walks in to the studies to see his Husband setting behind his disk. Magnus is a strap dresser and has his very own still. However today Magnus was dressed in a old gray sweater and black sweats. His black hair was tasseled like he head been holding his hands in his hair. Alec cross the room so quiet and light. He kisses his Husbands cheek. Slow Magnus looks up and smiles.

“Hey there my handsome man.” Magnus says and is cut off by Alec kissing his lips.

“You ok Magnus? You look like you seen a ghosts?” Alec inquirers.

“Oh yes fine fine it’s just a letter from someone wanting my sirves.” Magnus explains shifting the latter he was reading under some other papers. Alec looks unaffected. “Well I need to go in to town Max wand is broken and we need milk.” Alec says and heads for the door. “The boys are playing with the cat.” Alec says and opens the steady door. Chairman mew came running into the room and hides under Magnus disk. “Playing?” Magnus says raising his left eyebrow. Alec shrugs and walks out of the office.

A week later Jace sits in the library. Behind a large oak desk with angels holding up each end. On the desk papers are everywhere. Some in piles others just scattered around the desk. A few are all crumpled up in balls. A young 20 year old girl with fire red hair walks in to the Library and over to Jace and kisses his cheek. “Hello hottie.”

“Hey there Clary.” Jace says smiling up at the girl.

“They are all in the main yard and the others will be here soon.” Clary says smiling. Jace hangs his head down

“Man why are we doing this again?” He asks

“Because we are a institute and the clave wants us to and I love to see you tell the Console no” Clary responds pulling Jace to his feet. The two walk out of the library and head down to the front of the Institute.

In the main yard stands three other people. Two guys and a girl. One of the men is Alec Lightwood. The other guy is kind of scrawny compared to Jace and Alec his hair was plain brown and it was ruffled. He was wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt with the words the mortal instruments on the front. This was Simon Lovelace. Standing next to Simon was a girl with long black hair she was in a short black skirt that come to just above her knees and a black string tank top with a black leather jacket. This was Isabelle Lightwood.

“Magnus gone to get them?” Clary asks walking up holding on to Jace arms. Alec just nods.

“We’re are the boys?” Isabella asks.

“With mom” Alec answers.

“You guys get moved in?” Clary inquiries looking at Simon and Isabelle.

“Yes we did thanks for that huge room.” Isabelle smiles.

“It was the farthest from our room I don’t want to hear you newlyweds all night.” Jace snickers.

“Oh ya like we had to deal with the two of you.” Simon retorts. Jace was not able to use a come back because a blue portal opens up.

Magnus Bane walks out of it smiling. “Right this way kiddos.”

Out of the portal rolls a young man with brown hair and a average build . After him tumbled a girl with poofy brown hair and a slender body. Once that girl was out of the way a younger boy with black hair shaved down to the skull and was a skinny toothpick came flying out Superman style and finally a small girl with long reddish brown hair down to her butt and a slim build walked out like any other normal ShadowHunter would.

“On your feet and line up!” Jace shouts and the four teens scramble to their feet and line up shoulder to shoulder. “Ok newbies I am going to only say this once and if you don’t get it to bad. I am Jace Lightwood Herondale and this is Clary Fray Fairchild.” Jace says and points to Clary who gives a light wave. “We run this place. You will be sent on missions by us. Simon will be your physical trainer and Izzy will be your weapons master.” He adds and then points to Simon and Isabelle. “Most of your are from the dregs class and one is from the elite class. The one that is form the elite class you go nowhere in this city without one of us! Now I want your names and were you lived before here.” He finishes.

The tallest teen steps forward and with a very british accent says. “Mekyle form London.”

Next is the girl with puffy hair. “Angelique form Texas.”

Then the Superman diver steps forward.

“Xander from Queens, New York.”

And last the small redhead skipped up and seemed to be jumping out of her skin. “I am Ruthie from Europe and can I just say I am so honored to be here working with legends.”

“Hold up this is one of the group of Shadowhunters. You been fangirling over?” Angelique asks looking down the line at the jittery Ruthie.

“Yes this is the shadowhunter that ended not only the mortal war but the Dark war also.” Ruthie adds bouncing on her heels.

“Then that means your Headmistress Jocelyn’s kid?” Xander chimes in looking at Clary. Clary just smiles and nods.

“Guys I need to get going to the meeting with Maya and Lily” Alec says.

“No way the leaders of the Vampire and lycan clans!” Angelique squeals in excitement.

“Umm ya” Alec says a little shocked.

“Don’t mind her. Her focus of study was Downworlders and politics.” Xander says.

“Welp maybe next time you can tag along.” Alec smiles and grabs Magnus hand and turns to walk away.

“Ok Newbie head inside and find your own room.” Jace says. All the teens nod pick up their bags and head into the Institute. “This is going to be a pain.” Jace says after all the teens were in the building.

[ill-skillsgard]

Henry’s Birthday Weekend - Friday Night - His Mistress

Warning: 18+ sex toy play/mentions of cheating/marital conflict/mature language & themes. Please read at your own discretion.

Note: Hi! What started as a fun little idea has turned into something much longer than expected (surprise, surprise). I feel like Henry’s birthday deserves to span an entire weekend and be full of unexpected surprises and sexiness. So here it is... Friday Night.

Read more Henry x Mistress imagines here > Masterpost

You fiddled with the shoulder straps of the bra, making sure they didn’t cut into your skin. The oxblood lace didn’t cover much, but that was the point. The garter belt around your waist matched the red of the bra, although you wouldn’t see the finished product until you clipped the garter straps to a pair of stockings. Those were waiting behind the purchase counter.

Satisfied with the set you chose, you slid the lock from the door and peered out with a smile in hopes Henry was paying attention. He looked up from his phone and gasped like you had strutted out nude.

“Babe! I told you, I don’t want to see it yet!” Henry covered his eyes with his free hand.

“Okay, okay,” you withdrew into the change room, locking the door behind you. “I think this is the one.”

“Great. We’ll pack it up and take it home.”

Henry held your hand with his right and the bag from the lingerie shop in his left as he escorted you to his car. He opened the door for you, waited until you sat down, shut the door and circled to place your purchase in the trunk. Before sticking the key in the ignition, he reached between his legs under the seat and pulled out a small box wrapped in pink paper.

You instantly glared at him.

“Henry! It’s your birthday, not mine!” You berated.

He smirked and passed you the box. “It’s a gift for me.”

“Then why are you passing it over?”

“Well, because... It’s also a gift for you. But mostly for me.”

When you woke up that morning, you got the feeling Henry’s version of a birthday celebration would have a lot to do with giving you gifts. The lingerie was one thing. He could justify that it was for him, but the pink box confused you. Until you ripped open the crepe paper wrapping, you glowered at the item in your hand. Then you turned over the box, and it all made sense.

Henry’s smirk developed into a beam he couldn’t reel back. He adjusted in his seat, slicked back his hair and played with the knot of his tie as a distraction.

“Wow. This is—okay, I can see how this is sort of a gift for you.” You held up the box and giggled.

It was a palm-sized vibrator in cotton candy blue with a flat side and an insightful diagram on the back of the package. Henry pulled out his cell phone and waggled it.

“I can control it with my phone.”

“I see that,” you sang.

“You’ll wear it for dinner. Along with the set and those heels I bought you last week?”

His uncertain tone propped your eyebrow. “Oh, I will, will I?”

His large hand slid up your knee and ruched up the fabric of your pencil skirt to squeeze your thigh. “Yes, you will.”

All ambiguity in his voice melted away, and the expression left on his face was one of sternness. When Henry bucked up, straightened his tie and asserted himself, he passed well for threatening. It reminded you of the way he carried himself at work and how his subordinates took him as seriously as a bomb set to explode. It was his birthday, after all.

“Yes, sir,” you agreed.

“Good girl.”

Out of nowhere, Henry decided it best to drop you off at home to get ready for the night. Before he left, he instructed you again to wash up like he meant to eat off your skin, wear your new lingerie set under your outfit and stash the vibrator between your legs. Then, after a long kiss goodbye, he gave you a wink and left you to stew in the excitement.

You laid out the night’s outfit, showered, shaved, and prepared for an evening of secret naughtiness, humming as you went. The vibrator rested in its package on the foot of your seldom-used bed. It called out for inspection as you towelled off from your shower. You plucked it from the packing foam and caressed the smooth finish with your thumb.

There was a button on the vibrator and a small, oval-shaped magnet to help lock it into place. Before you touched the raised nub to turn it on, your work phone rang. It skittered across your vanity table with each vibration until you picked it up, scowling at the screen as though it had slapped you.

Mary Deaver calling

Whenever Henry ignored work calls or forwarded them away, it redirected them to your work phone. It was standard practice, and you were used to receiving client calls during odd hours, but Mary’s name gave you a dreadful empty-gutted sensation. For a moment, you considered ignoring the call, but that would be unprofessional. You had to keep a cool head and answer the call just like you would for any other person.

“Good afternoon, Henry Deaver’s office.”

Mary chuckled from the other end. “It’s funny how he has you answering the phone as though you’re in the office.”

“I beg your pardon, Ms. Deaver?”

“Oh, so you know who I am?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. “Mm-hmm. Caller display, ma’am.”

“Henry isn’t in the office. Where is he?” She asked.

You glanced over at your bed, covered with gifts from Mary’s soon-to-be ex-husband. It filled the hollowness in your gut with a warm trickle of satisfaction that rose and rose until your chest was alight with amusement.

“Usually, I’d be able to answer that question for you, ma’am, but today is Henry’s birthday, and he’s out of the office.”

“I know it’s his birthday, you twit. I’m his wife.”

“Hmm. Well, I’m sorry, Ms. Deaver, but Henry has taken the day off. I think I heard him mention golfing.”

“It’s Missus Deaver. And I’ve called his buddies. He’s nowhere to be found.”

“I’m sorry, Mary. I’m under strict instructions not to bug Mr. Deaver today.”

Her scoff grated your eardrum. You held the phone from your face, glaring at it as though spit had come flying through the earpiece.

“I want his girlfriend’s number.”

“Mary—”

“Give it to me. I know he has one, so don’t play dumb. He told me.”

You sighed, mock-patience dragging out your breath until she stopped talking. “I can’t give you any information about my boss’s personal life. Please, Mary, I’m just trying to do my job.”

“I don’t want to get angry, girl, but you’re not making it easy. Can’t you see what he’s doing? He’s cheating on me, and everyone is allowing it to happen! They’re all patting him on the back and running circles for him. Would you think a fellow woman would recognize this and come to my defence? No!”

All you needed was another repeat of Mary’s hailstorm of insults, and the thin strand holding you back from screaming would snap. You listened as she droned on about women helping women, but she was pandering to the wrongest ear possible.

“Mary,” you cut her off. “You’re separated. You’re both locked in a divorce settlement. I can’t treat you like his wife when I know that’s not true.”

The line went quiet. Then, a bubbling of laughter popped against your face. “You know... I was going to make it easy for him, but not anymore.”

“Miss—”

The line hacked off, and you stood in the middle of your bedroom, staring at the black screen of your phone. With a heavy sigh, you opened a new message to Henry and told him about the call you had received. He replied within seconds.

She’s called me twenty times. I think I should just answer. She probably wants to wish me a happy birthday.

The last thing Mary said to you before hanging up fastened on the edge of your lips. Did you want to ruin Henry’s entire day by relaying her cryptic threat? On any other day, you would have told him the unabridged truth, but not on his birthday. Not after the wonderful morning and before the evening’s promises took flight.

She was angry as hell and asked for your GF’s phone number.

Awkward.

Very much so. I gotta say, Henry... I’ll be thrilled when she gets it through her head that you’re no longer husband and wife.

Why? What did she say?

She just demands information on you. I told her you said not to let anybody bother you and that you MIGHT be golfing.

That’s good. And I know, baby. I’m sorry. All I can do is work through this as fast as I can.

I know.

After the call, you didn’t feel sexy and titillated as you had after your shower. But you couldn’t let it cut holes in the night’s plans. You had to suck it up, breathe deeply, and remind yourself that divorce proceedings were a long and stressful process, and you had jumped aboard of your own free will. You signed up for this.

When Henry pulled up to collect you, the incident was long from your mind. You’d taken a couple of hours to reset, dress and figure out the most comfortable spot to hide the vibrator in your panties. At first, the toy felt too foreign for comfort, like a pad that had no business lining your underwear. But the longer you spent with it pressed against your most sensitive spot, and the more you thought about how much fun Henry would have teasing you, the more you disregarded its existence.

Until you got in Henry’s car, and he pulled up the phone application, you forgot about the object stowed away in your undergarments.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Making sure it works before we head out,” Henry replied.

He pressed a button, and a fine buzz tickled to life. You clenched your legs together, eyes round and wide as Henry giggled and asked, “is it working?”

“Yep,” you peeped. “She workin’.”

Dark amusement moulded a leer so devastating on his face, and you wanted to forget the dinner and go back to the condo to have sex instead. Henry couldn’t stifle his entertainment.

“Okay, I’ll turn it off,” he said, and then nudged the cursor up, increasing the intensity.

“Henry!”

“How’s that feel, baby? You like that?”

“Stop, stop, stop, stop.” You clutched the edges of your seat.

Henry relinquished, turning the toy off and pocketing his phone. “Oh, my God. This will be so fun.”

Your boyfriend had been correct. The night was full of teasing and low whispers detailing what he wanted to do to you after he got you back home. At the dinner table, you sat with your fingers gliding up and down the stem of a wine glass, awaiting the buzz to startle you.

After the waiter took your menus away, Henry casually reached into his pocket and set his phone in his lap where he could navigate in secret. The vibrator hummed to life, and you flinched, causing the wine in your glasses to tip back and forth. The rumble between your legs heightened, then dissipated, only to peak again and again and again. Up and down, low to high, back and forth until you shot him a playful, accusatory look.

“I can’t believe I... I agreed to this. Um. Oh... Oh, Christ. Henry.”

He anchored his cheek to his propped fist, his other hand under the table playing with the app. To on-lookers, it would appear Henry was staring lovingly into your eyes from across the table which was normal behaviour for him, but his trigger thumb was happily teasing you from afar.

“How about we keep it on low for a while? You think you can handle that?” He asked.

“Maybe,” you breathed out.

As promised, Henry lowered the strength to the first level. Yet, even that setting shook your core with devilish waves.

You lifted the wineglass to your lips and calmly took a sip, though you were anything but calm. The sensation dug into you, culling forth wetness that absorbed into the gusset of your new panties. It was time to start playing back.

“Wow, I don’t think anything has ever made me this wet before. Honestly, I feel like I’m sitting in a puddle.”

Henry masked his intrigue with a snort and a long sip of wine. “Is that so?”

“I’m not kidding, Henry. It’s like the Falls down there. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do anything with you after if you... If you—”

That same darkness from before overrode his face, a rare expression that unsettled your emotions. Henry leaned over the table to stroke the back of your palm. “Who said you have a choice?”

You flashed your teeth. Henry was playing a rather lewd game by firing off a warning shot. Tonight was about what he wanted, and not what you doled him. It’s what he wanted for his birthday; to be the big, bad man with the power. But there was no way you could resist rocking the boat.

“Henry, please. The sommelier is coming right this way. You have to—”

“Let him come,” Henry shrugged.

He reclined—a cool, calculated smile on his face, pupils dilated.

The tinkle of piano keys mixed with the low murmur of guests was enough to muffle the sound of the vibrator, but only just. If you pressed down on the chair, the toy would hum louder and garner attention. You had to clench your thighs to stifle the noise. Henry knew you struggled and took his time discussing the night’s wine choice with the sommelier. The man was enthusiastic about Henry’s assessment and played favourites with your table.

Talk of cherry notes, oak and nuts were a poor distraction. You cared not for the history of the region the grapes yielded from nor the casual brushing from one topic to another, unrelated one. The man had to leave, and Henry wouldn’t allow it.

The purring between your legs felt more like a hiss after long. Pressure built up in your groin, and you were unsure if you had to pee or if you were on the brink of a powerful orgasm. Whatever the sensation, you pushed your chair out, nodding at the two men.

“Excuse me. I have to use the washroom.”

Henry’s mouth snapped shut as he watched you leave your seat and walk toward the restrooms. When you were out of sight, you let your expression slacken. By the time you entered the lady’s room, the vibration had stopped. You halted, waited for a second and scoffed when the toy stirred again.

You waited a minute in the restroom, washed your hands and picked the lint off your outfit as you composed yourself.

In your rush to return to your roguish boyfriend, you pushed open the door and clipped a man’s shoulder. He recoiled in the hall, whipping you an offended scowl before his eyes took you in. You recognized the man, but couldn’t place him in your memory. You forgot about the toy going haywire in your underwear and went pale.

“Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?” The man asked.

A prickle of alcohol from his mouth tainted your airways, and you realized the man you’d hit with the door was one of Henry’s colleagues. A man named Frank, whom you hoped you would never have to see again.

“Yeah, I do know you! You’re from the hotel.”

“Um, no. I don’t—I don’t work there.”

“But you did!” Frank exclaimed. “I couldn’t forget your face.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.”

“What’s a little server girl from the Southside doing up in my neighbourhood?”

You backed away, shrugging, and chuckling your nerves down. “Just on a date. Sorry, I should go.”

Then you turned and shot off to your table. Henry spotted the worried look on your face and waited for you to sit down before asking questions.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Mm-hmm, yep. Oh, except that Frank guy you work with is here, and he saw me in the hall.”

Henry’s chin wrinkled, the faint dimple glimmering as he drew in his eyebrows. “Frank? Frank, who?”

“I don’t know. Could you please stop the thing now?”

It was too late. Frank spotted Henry from across the dining room. “Henry goddamn Deaver, is that you?”

Frank’s voice carried over the music, earning several queer looks and murmurs. You tapped the table frantically with your finger as the man lumbered forward into the eye of the dining room.

“Henry, please. Henry. Now. Turn it off. Please,” you hissed.

He fidgeted with his phone, turning up the strength by accident in his haste. You made a face like swallowing a shot of lemon juice. The rumble gyrated and continued to do so until the very moment Frank bumped into your table. It ceased, and you let out a frustrated breath, covering your face with one hand to mask your identity.

“Hang on just one hot minute now. Southside, you’re not on a date! You’re trying to shake me like last time. And Deaver! What the hell are you doing out this late? Isn’t it past your bedtime? Won’t Mary wring your neck?”

Then it was Henry’s turn to hide his face. “Frank, would you lower your voice? The whole restaurant is looking this way.”

Frank’s brow knit together while he tried to fit the pieces together. He stared at you, then at Henry, then back at you. The lopsided grin between his red cheeks flattened.

“What’s going on, Deaver?”

“I’m having dinner. It’s my birthday.”

Frank thumbed at you. “This your side-piece?”

You, mortified, let Henry handle the reigns of the conversation. Without a comment, you downed your wine in one large gulp in hopes the alcohol might wash away your embarrassment.

“No. This is my whole piece. I’d introduce you, but you’ve already met.”

“No shit, you’re banging the cutie from the coffee shop now? What about Mary?”

Henry’s cheeks, already pink from wine, then turned red. “We’re divorced.”

“What!”

More eyes locked on your table as you sank into your chair and wondered if it would be rude to fill your wine glass up to the brim. Henry turned his pursed lips out, rubbed four fingers across his forehead and sighed. “Frank, good Lord, can’t you be quieter? Do you have a megaphone stuck in your throat?”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me, Deaver? I swear we just saw each other, and you were happily shackled.”

“This,” Henry remarked. “This is why I didn’t tell you. Because I don’t need attention and public humiliation.”

“Frank!” A woman’s voice, equally voluminous as Frank’s cut through the tension.

Frank’s face drooped, all zeal rushing away. The woman beckoning him motioned him along with an impatient wave of her hand. It was his wife, you presumed, and she had her coat on.

“Fuck me, Deaver. You got life sorted, don’tcha? Hot little girly-friend, no more ring. When the hell are we getting together to celebrate?”

“I’ll have my assistant call you,” Henry said.

Frank waved his club-like hand, missing your face by a bare inch. You recoiled in your seat and blinked a few times to showcase your concern.

“Bullshit, Deaver. I’ve heard that one before. Come on. We gotta get together and go to the titty-bar or something. You’re single now!”

Your boyfriend opened his mouth, but no words tumbled out. Instead, he chuckled while shaking his head and motioned at you.

“Frank, I just told you I’m not single.”

The large man swung his eyes at you. He scanned you up and down, smirked and tapped the table with one hairy knuckle. “You’d let this old boy go with his friend to the rippers, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

You stared at Henry now, daggering him with sarcasm and a fake smile. “Oh, yeah! Henry can go to the strip club with you, Frank. I’m sure he’d love that.”

Henry covered his face with both hands. “I’ll call you Frank, but it looks like your wife wants to leave.”

“I’ll be waiting for that call, Deaver. And if you don’t... The phone goes both ways. I won’t let up until you say yes!”

“Okay, Frank. Have a good night.”

Frank placed his mit on your shoulder and squeezed you. “And you too, honey. I hope to see you again very soon.”

There were too many things you wanted to say at once. Henry fiddled with his apologies but came up speechless. He spread out his hands in a tabletop version of a shrug, snickering to himself at the absurdity of what had just happened. You wanted to be angry, but your mouth quirked, and soon, you were laughing.

“Want me to pen you in a date with Frank? I’m not well-versed on what adult entertainment establishments exist around here, but I can do a little research, and—”

“Please, stop. That was so, SO embarrassing.”

“Yeah? Try having a vibrator on your junk going ballistic while bumping into that hurricane of a man!”

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” Henry muttered.

“What wasn’t a good idea?” You asked.

“I don’t know. I—hold on.”

Henry fished his phone from his pocket. Was Frank already calling him? He squinted at the screen and scrolled his thumb up twice before clicking something.

“What is it?” You inquired.

The vibrator whirred to life. Your back snapped straight as a blissful smile poured over Henry’s face. His bottom lip disappeared between his teeth. The edge of the table made a good spot to hold on to while he played with the settings on his cell phone.

“No, I take it back. This was the best idea I’ve ever had.”

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Promises - Chapter Eight

Chapter Summary: Tony Stark's wine cooler suffers neglect as Bucky bails on work to rush back to Izzy. Visiting her twice in the same day? Their FIRST day? Bucky is in deep, and no amount of emotional hurt is going to stop him from giving her what she needs. Little does he know that she is just as stuck as he is. 

Warnings:  Sex, Smut, bit of foul language, more sex, bit of angst.  Pretty much gratuitous smut. 18+ only please!

PROMISES MASTERLIST  |  MAIN MASTERLIST  |  MOBILE MASTERLIST

Belated Prologue Part 7 – Second Audition

Bucky got back to his apartment with just enough time to shower and get ready for work.  All the ride home he thought about Izzy, replaying in his head every look and every sound right down to her soft breathing as she slept. He decided to shoot her a quick text just so she didn’t think he’d bailed on her for a bad reason.

  [Buck]  Hey, sorry I had to leave for work.  You were comatose – cute, by the way.  Let me know when you’re up so I know you’re ok after the best sex of your life.  I’m gonna assume I passed the first audition? 😉

Bucky didn’t know whether he was overstepping or not but they both had a friendship that was full of mockery and jibes so he figured he was safe.  He didn’t know if it was ok to talk about what had happened, they didn’t cover it in the rules so he was just going to feel it out.  He wanted to tell her she was wonderful and that he’d not felt like that with anyone else, which was the god’s honest truth.  He wanted to tell her she was beautiful and sexy, and that he wanted her in whatever capacity she was willing to give herself to him.  He wanted to be with her but couldn’t tell her any of it.

 His night at work dragged by, despite being busy.  Saturday nights were always packed, even after people started making their way to the night clubs.  Stark’s was open until 1am Friday and Saturday but 11pm every other night unless there was a special occasion like a birthday party or late night sports event that was covered on pay-per-view.

Bucky kept checking his phone.  He’d sigh, irritated, when he received a text that wasn’t from Izzy.  So that was basically all of them up until about 10 past midnight.

His heart jumped when he saw her name flash up on his phone.

  [Izzy]  Yeah, I’d tell you it was more than alright but I wouldn’t want your head to get any bigger lol.

  [Izzy]  And no being a creeper!  Watching people sleep is for perverts and serial killers.

  [Buck]  I never said I wasn’t a pervert 😉

Bucky felt relieved. The casual teasing was a sign that everything was just fine between them.  He tried to put his mind on the job but found he kept most of his attention on the device in his pocket, the slightest sensation against his leg and he was whipping it out to check if she’d replied.

He was putting together drinks for the last order of the night before he rang the bell for ‘time’ when his phone went crazy in his pocket; a phone call.  Hurriedly garnishing the cocktails and presenting the order he rushed the customer away.

He clanged the bell loud enough to wake the dead.

“Time at the bar!”

Then he was checking his phone.

1 Missed Call.  1 Message.

It was Steve.

  [Steve]  You still coming clubbing after your shift?  Me and the boys are in Ikon. Let me know.

He was about to reply to Steve to tell him he’d be there by 2am when another text from Izzy came through.

  [Izzy]  I think you broke me lol x

  [Izzy]  I’m not broken enough that I can’t go again though 😉  If you’re free after work? X

Holy shit!  So soon?  Bucky practically punched the air in jubilation.  He replied to Izzy immediately but decided to leave his reply to Steve until he was actually leaving work.

  [Buck]  Sure thing, doll.  I’ll stop by my place for a few things first.  Be about an hour x

  [Izzy]  I’ll be waiting. X

 Bucky was already getting that pre-aroused feeling low between his hips.  Just the thought of being with her had his head all messed up. He broke 2 glasses as he rushed to clear up and forgot to stock the wine cooler before he left.  Tony, who lived above the bar called after him as Bucky almost launched himself out of the side door.

“Does my wine cooler offend you or sum’thin?  What am I paying you for here?”  Tony grumbled

“I’ll get it in the morning.”  Bucky stopped, turning back he gave the man a beseeching look.

“That skirt better be worth it.”

Bucky grinned, shrugging on his jacket.  “She is.” He laughed and made a dash for the door.

 He drove like crazy to his place, changed his t-shirt, sprayed some deodorant, grabbed a handful of condoms and a pack of gum and left.  He drove like crazy the few blocks to Izzy’s place too and she buzzed him in with the kind of haste like she’d been waiting on him.

“Hey!”  She said when she opened the door to him.  “You got here quick.  How was work?”

As soon as she opened the door it was only going to go one way.  She’d bathed and was all wrapped up in a fluffy bath robe, her hair was damp still and scrunched up on a messy bun.  Her skin looked radiant and the dimmed lights in the lounge were almost certainly purposefully low.  When he laid eyes on her he knew there was no way they were going to make it to the bedroom.

She had turned and padded barefoot into the lounge, leaving him to close the door behind himself but when he didn’t reply she turned with a frown.

Bucky was almost certain he looked crazed at that moment.  He kicked the door shut with his heel and was on her in a second, herding her backwards against the breakfast bar.

“Everything okay, Bucky?” Her eyes were wide with concern.

“James.”  He ground out, tugging the belt of her bath robe until it came loose.

Izzy was quick to catch on, she smirked with satisfaction, and gave him a shit-eating grin when he got the robe open and saw what she was wearing underneath.

He groaned, rolling his eyes up to the heavens in such a show of supplication that she couldn’t contain her smugness.

“Izzy…”  He sighed, pushing the rob off her shoulders to fully expose the black and red lace lingerie set she wore.  The balconette bra pushed her breasts out perfectly, the lace sheer enough he could see her nipples.  The panties were a thong and also sheer.  Sheer enough for him to see that she’d shaved everything.

“Call me Bella.”  She took a cue from him, asking to be called by something other than what they normally called each other.

It suited her, especially seeing her like this, all sultry and dressed to seduce.  Bucky wasted no time cupping her breasts and squeezing them firmly.  He stepped closer, forcing her to arch backward over the counter, pushing her hips forward against his.

“Fuck, Bella…”  Bucky moaned into the valley between her breasts, squeezing them around his face, massaging them while he circled her nipples through the lace with his thumbs.

Trailing his tongue up the clean skin of her chest, he latched his mouth on the delicate spot above her clavicle and sucked.

Izzy recoiled, pushing him away with a nervous giggle.

Bucky searched her face for a brief moment before lowering his head and teasing the same spot with his tongue.  Izzy obviously didn’t want to be marked.  Bucky didn’t mind if she claimed him, but he’d never be able to tell anyone it was her mark on his neck.

“No hickeys. Check.”  He mused as he shifted his attention to her legs, hooking his hands under her thighs and lifting her until her legs were wrapped around his hips.

His moment of looking at her in awe and exploring the new imagery of her lingerie, was over.  The breakfast bar was too high but the stools were not.  He deposited her roughly on the black varnished wood seat and shrugged his leather jacket off.

Izzy helped him, by unbuckling his belt as he dropped the jacket on the floor.  Soon she was reaching into the open front of his jeans and taking his cock in her hand.  He had been hard by the time she’d opened the door to him, anticipation built up until all he could think about was how she felt when he was buried in her to his balls.

“You’ve got such a pretty cock, but you know that already don’t you, James?”

He nodded and bit his lip, watching her stroke him.  The intense pleasure combined with the slight thrill of seeing himself in her hand as she teased him with her thumb, spreading his pre-come around the tip and under to where his frenulum was pulled tight, was intoxicating.

Bucky pushed his jeans and shorts down to his knees, pulling the condoms out of his pocket as he did so. He dropped them on the counter, save for two; one of which he tucked into the cup of her bra, the other he rolled onto himself with practiced ease.

“You walking alright after this afternoon?”  He asked, breathy from her teasing.

She smirked.  “Pretty much.”  Her light but bashful chuckle told him otherwise.

“Well, you won’t be after this.”

 He pulled her thong aside and buried two fingers in her straight away, earning him a startled gasp. She gripped his shoulders hard and her legs twitched where they were loosely wrapped around his hips.  He curled his fingers ruthlessly, repeating the stroking motion against the softness of her g-spot while he worked her clit with his thumb.

Earlier today had been an exercise in control, a chance for him to show her that he could draw out her pleasure indefinitely, make her feel amazing for more than just a few moments. Now, with her clinging to him as he relentlessly broke her down, he was here to show her his masculinity, and how much he wanted her.

Bucky worked her with his hand until the very second he felt her start to come.  He pulled his hand free and grabbed her hips, burying his cock in her all the way and stilled, fingers now only working her clit as she cried out and came around his sold shaft that stretched her almost painfully.

“Ohhhh, God!”  She cried out, scrabbling to pull him closer, clutching the front of his t-shirt in a death grip.

She felt exquisite, spasming and pulsing around him.  Her gasps were half laughs through the disbelieving grin she wore.

 Bucky began to move, long slow strokes, pulling out almost to the tip and sliding home with a powerful but controlled thrust.  Gradually increasing the speed and forcefulness, he held onto the backrest of the stool with both hands and used it as leverage to fuck her harder and faster. She was already reaching the edge of another orgasm, losing the strength in her legs so they slipped down off his hips.

He tucked his forearms under her knees and gripped the chair again.  She was so exposed now and he could see himself spreading her open, each thrust tugging against her labia, the pink flesh becoming more and more flushed as he ravaged her.

“Shit!  Bu-.”  She choked on his name.

Whether she realised and stopped herself, or whether she just couldn’t get the words out it didn’t matter.  All that mattered was the tight pleasure of her clenching around him and the ragged gasping breaths that tore from her throat as she came again, hard enough for tears.

Bucky slowed as she came, pushing her gently through the pleasure, giving her just enough to keep it alive so it wouldn’t just be an intense blinding flash of ecstasy.  He’d almost came then too.  The sight of her coming undone, seeing himself sliding in and out of her, his sheathed cock glistening with her arousal.

Sweet Jesus!

With his arms still hooked under her knees he picked her up and walked her to the sofa where he lowered himself to the cushions, still buried inside her.

Izzy looked at him then, like he might be a little crazy.

“Who are you and where have you been all my finding Mr Wrong life?”  She laughed, giddy and flushed from her release.  She had no way of knowing that her words had cut him deep.

His eyes watered to the point he had to close them.  It hurt. He was insanely happy but it hurt like a shotgun blast to the chest, he should know, he’d had one.  A Kevlar vest was the only thing between him and death. The pain was unreal, and right now he’d take that again if it would only replace this new pain, this fresh hell.

How could he tell her he’d always been here?  That he’d been waiting for her.  Always waiting for her.  He’d promised himself he’d never burden her with his feelings, and now they had rules. He was bound twice by his word to keep all of this inside.

“Ride me.”  He gasped as the pain began to sap his arousal. “Use me.  Fuck me.  I want you to ruin me.”  He practically begged her.

And she did, pulling him down by his hair, she smothered him in her cleavage as she began to grind herself on him.  She made him forget her words and forget the tears he’d almost spilled.  She made him forget he was Bucky Barnes, the man who had loved her since he was just a boy, the man who left his life behind to join the army because he couldn’t bear to be without her, the man who would live every day of his life by her side only in friendship if that was what she needed.

In those moments, there with her taking her pleasure from him, he was only James.  An abstract concept of a man, a fantasy, all bravado and cocksurety.  He lived each moment to enjoy it and the pleasure they shared.  This was the distance he needed, to almost be someone else with her like this.

She moaned loudly, throwing her head back as she began to peak.  He was swollen and riding the line between pleasure and pain where he’d kept himself until she was ready to come.  There on the cusp he waited, needing only the tiniest of pushes, a feather stroke of something different to pull his focus away from control and fully into the path of the freight train that was threatening to plough through him.

“James!”  Her sigh was like a chorus of angels.  She was so close, he could see her working for it, struggling to find her release.

With shaking fingers he reached and lightly pinched one of her nipples through the lace of her bra, then harder, twisting it in his grip.

Falling forward with a gasp that morphed into a low guttural moan, she climaxed.  Her last act before she began to slow was to return the favour. She pinched his nipple hard and tugged on it until he twitched deep inside her and spilled with a cry that was part pain and part pleasure.

Bucky’s thrusts fell away and they both sat panting, sweaty and dumbstruck, his hands idle by his sides. He couldn’t touch her.  He was too raw emotionally, right then.

“Christ!  I need to pee.”  She laughed and tried to stand, legs wobbling as she climbed off him and staggered away.

Externally he laughed, she was adorable and funny, but inside he was numb.  He thought he could do this, the no-strings sex thing.  Not with her, he realised too late.

 Bucky pulled off the condom and tied it off, dropping it on the coffee table.

“Drink?”  Izzy walked past the sofa and went to the kitchen.

“Just water, is fine. Thanks.”

“You gonna tell me about work now?”  Her question seemed too domestic now, too weird.

“Not with you dressed like that.”  He snorted a breath out nasally.

“Right, right, sorry!”   She grabbed the robe and covered herself.

Bucky was shifting his hips on the sofa, already pulling up his jeans and tucking himself away.

“I think it’s best to keep friendzone conversations separate from the sex stuff.”

Izzy looked at him sat there frowning at her and she must’ve known what it was that had gotten under his skin.  Her face grew worried as she passed him the glass of water.

He downed it.

“Look, I’m sorry if what I said crossed the line.  I guess I didn’t realise how it sounded when it came out.”   She looked sad and the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel guilty.

“Yeah, we can’t get caught up in that happily ever after stuff if you want to keep to the rules.” Bucky ran his hands through his hair. He did that when he was tired, nervous, stressed, self-conscious, among other things.

“Scared you’ll break Rule 3?”  She teased.

Goddamnit!  Why was she torturing him?

“Are you?”  His voice was as flat as he could make it, and he stood up to create some space between them.  “It’s a rule for a reason, is it not?”

She’d set that rule. He already had feelings and for her to fall for him was his ideal situation.  But she obviously didn’t want it that way.  She just wanted him for the sex.

“Sorry.”  She looked tired all of a sudden.  “I’ll do better next time.  If you want there to be a next time?”

What was he supposed to say? Yes, he wanted there to be a next time. He wanted to be her every time.

“Yeah, okay.”  Bucky sighed heavily.

“Thanks, Buck.”  She smiled, almost relieved.

She was his kryptonite. His main vice.  But also the thing that kept him ticking.  It was wrong to say she was his raison d’etre but she was pretty close.  Promises and rules, that’s what kept this thing together, like a fucking band aid to hold together a fractured but priceless Ming dynasty vase.  If it had to be, it had to be.  It wasn’t like he wasn’t getting almost everything he’d ever wanted for his whole adult life so far.

“Bucky?”

“I need a fucking smoke.” He scooped up his jacket and pulled it on.  “I’ll be back.  Don’t fall asleep, and don’t get changed.”    He gave her a crooked smile and a wink.

“Ohhh!  God dayum!”  She blushed hard.  “Okay.”

[givemethatgold]

Clearing out my drafts and found this unfinished gem from 2015 😂 WHY AM I LIKE THIS?

Bucky x reader

It wasn’t often that you found yourself alone in the tower with Bucky. Usually one or both of your skill sets were required for a mission, or there would be another teammate home with you.  Today, however, it was just the two of you and neither of you were going to waste the opportunity. 

With an unspoken agreement you had both retreated into your respective rooms to tidy yourselves up for your dinner date.  Bucky had ordered lobster diavolo from your favourite Italian restaurant and you wanted this to feel as close to a real date as you could. It was hard for Bucky to relax and enjoy himself when in public; his infamy was widespread. You had pulled one of the small dining tables to the balcony off the common room and set it in the classic style. Gingham tablecloth, candles, tri-fold napkins: the works. 

Working quickly, you flipped through the hangers in your closet, looking for the  right outfit for tonight.  Your eyes fell on a beautiful blue dress with a bright floral pattern, perfect. You had bought the dress for a Murder Mystery years ago and hadn’t been able to part with it even though you knew you’d never wear it again. To be fair, you didn’t know at the time you’d be dating a super solider who grew up in the early 20th century!

The dress was cut in a classic 40′s style with capped sleeves, boning and clever seam-work to create that oh-so-dated pointed bust, and knee length skirt complete with petticoat. Once you finished with the buttons (deciding to leave the last few undone, providing a nice view of your cleavage) you moved on to your hair and makeup.  Keeping it simple but aligned with the classic look, you were done and no time.

Just as you were stepping out of your room F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced that the delivery man was at the door and that Mr. Barnes was already on the way to meet him. This information set you on edge, your overprotective reaction every time Bucky had to interact with the general public. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, although he could be quite surly. No, it was thankless civilians who couldn’t look passed his sordid past and treated him like shit because of it. 

Your fears were put to rest the second Bucky walked out to meet you on the balcony. He looking good enough to fucking eat. Hair slicked back, dark blue suit, and shy smile all worked together to create a breathtaking vision. You were tempted to forgo dinner and drag him to the nearest room with a bed. Until you smelled the pasta, that is. There was a reason you paid the ridiculously high delivery fee for Il Pasticcio, it was worth taking a bullet for.

“Doll...” Bucky murmured with a shuddering breath. “You look-” shaking his head, searching for the right word, “-you look like home.”

Tears pricked your eyes at the sentiment and you had a swallow a few times to get your throat working. 

“James,” voice soft and wavering a bit with emotion. “You are home.”

The two of your stupidly grinned at each other, still standing a few paces apart.

“Your dinner will no longer be at optimal serving temperature if you continue to dodder.”

While the A.I.’s declaration had broken the mood, you were also semi glad for it.  Honestly, the pasta was that good. With a laugh, the two of you made your way to the table.  Bucky, ever the gentleman, pulled out your chair for you but you drew the line at him trying to place the napkin on your lap.

“Sit down, you spaz, I’m famished!” You swatted his hands away but softened your words with a peck on his cheek.  It made you squirm a little when you noticed he hadn’t shaved; he knew you loved the scruff.

Dinner was lovely. Being like this with Bucky was always so relaxing, neither of you feeling the need to hold back. Out of the public eye and the cautious gazes of some of your team (Tony was still bitter and Steve always worried about a relapse from his friend) you were free to be your affectionate, dorky selves. 

By the time you had had your fill of pasta and wine the sun had set and a few stars were already shining. You made your way to the railing, taking in the cityscape sprawled out before you. Bucky walked up behind you, wrapped his arms around your waist and hunched over enough to rest his chin on your shoulder.  He was humming an old song from his past, and you found yourselves gently swaying in time to the tune. 

“Where’d you get the dress, doll?” asked Bucky as his hands roamed your body. “Its, uh, its something you should wear more often.”

You just hummed in response, enjoying the feeling of his warm body pressed up against you. Turning his head, Bucky ran his nose up along your jaw to just behind your ear, where he placed a warm, wet kiss. Then, whispering, he told you all the things your outfit was doing to him. For a guy as quiet and reserved as he, Bucky’s mouth was filthy enough to make even you blush.

“Why don’t you quit talking about it and show me, Sarg?” you sassed, turning around in his arms to gaze up at him with a perfectly arched eyebrow. The both of you knowing damn well it was false bravado, as Bucky could just about make you cum by merely speaking.

With a mischievous smirk Bucky spun you around so you were leaning against the balcony railing again, facing the city. He tugged on your hands, placing them on the railing as far apart from each other as they could be so your chest was resting on the cool metal. Next, he tapped your feet with his, wordlessly commanding you to spread your legs. Oh god, you thought, he’s going to fuck me up here. Just the thought of it sent heat down to your core.

“Stay” he commanded.

You couldn’t see what he was doing but soon you heard the patio doors closing and him muttering something to F.R.I.D.A.Y., then “Of course, sir”. At her acquiesce he made his way back, brushing your hair away from your face once he’d reached you.  The lust in his eyes sent a jolt through you. 

“Good girl,” he praised, running his hand from your neck, down your back, and all the way down to your ankles. 

“How comfortable are you in these? Because I’d really like to fuck you in them.”

Holy hell, this was a bold side of Bucky you hadn’t seen before and that was a damn shame. Your heart beat skyrocketed and you could feel your clit pulsing with the need for him to touch it.

“I-I’m good. Please Buck,” you barely got the words out you were so breathless.

Kneeling down, Bucky ran his hands up your legs and lifted the skirt of your dress with them, exposing your bare ass. The cool air was a shocking relief to your overheated skin.

With a groan Bucky kissed your exposed thigh and slapped your ass cheek, “You’re killin’ me, Y/N. My dirty girl, all splayed out and bare for me already.”

Smiling to yourself you arched your back, making your ass stick up into the air and exposing your wet center to him.

With no warning he grabbed your thighs and buried his face into your mound, making your cry out first in shock then in ecstasy. 

AND THATS WHERE I STOPPED AND DIDN'T BOTHER FINISHING 😂😂

[5289belle]

The Dragon Wolf chapter 2

The horse galloped into the woods, spurned on by it’s rider. With haste she steered the steed deeper into the woods, finally she declared she was far enough that no one would discover her here by the stream. Dismounting her horse she took off her oversized helmet and began working on the mismatched armour.

“I should have known the knight of the laughing tree was a woman, after all your size compared to the other knight is miniscule.” He declared with amusement.

Startled by his voice she turned around and was greeted by the sight of the silver haired prince. Decided that it was foolish to lie she replied “Your grace, I will not go without a fight! I do not intend to die a fiery death.”

A look of understanding flickered across his features, with the wind billowing around them he looked into her steely grey eyes and spoke with kindness

“My lady, you misunderstand me. I would not reveal you to my father, however please tell me why you wished to joust?”

Lowering her shoulders she studied him, his face seemed to hold truth in it. Deciding to trust him she licked her lips and began to delve into a story of how two days ago one of her father's bannermen was accosted and beaten by some squires. How she yelled at them and told them to be gone. Deciding that the squires needed to be taught a lesson in honor and respect, she gathered odd bits and pieces of armour left about and entered the jousting tournament to unseat the squires. She never intended to reveal herself or cause suspicion on the knight.

“ I understand, I will keep you secret. Although I'll need your shield to show my father, to keep him satisfied with the shield. I’ll tell you I could not find the knight , only his shield was left here in the woods.

“My thanks, your grace.” She replied with a sincere expression. Their eyes met and she was lost in his indigo eyes. The reminded her off plums, a dark purple with a hint of blue.

Waking from her dream Lyarra was disoriented, the dream was so vivid. It almost felt as if she was there as if it all really happened.

Rising out of bed and dressing for the day she left to break her fast.

On her way to the kitchens she caught sight of Arya trying to sneak in and pilfer some cakes.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She said with a semi serious voice. Smiling down at her she watched as Arya jumped in surprise and turned out.

“Lya, you scared me!” Arya shouted.

A giggle erupted from the raven haired girl, “Yes well that’s what big sisters are for”

“Now are we still going to have our secret lessons in the godswood today after your lessons with Septa Mordane and all the other little ladies in Winterfell?”

“Of course, why shouldn't we?” Arya replied worried that her lesson was in danger of being cancelled.

“Just checking, you never know if you changed your mind.” she said with a laugh.

“Now come lets break our fast before the boys awaken and eat all the food!”

 

“Arya will you please slow down!” Lyarra yelled towards the younger girl.

Picking up her skirts she hurried after her.

“Lya, if I don’t hurry then I won’t be able to practice my sword practicing skills with you, Lady mother might call upon me any moment now! Or worse Septa Mordane…” Rubbing her knuckles in memory the girl quickly hurried forward into the godswoods with her sister at her heels.

“Yes, however if you fall again you’ll have scrapes on your palms you’ll need to explain to your Septa and Lady Stark.” Lyarra muttered with frustration. Shaking her head she followed Arya through the godswood to their spot.

“Of course when the King and his entire retinue arrive we'll pause our lessons until they leave.”

“Or we could be very secretive about, please Lya!?” Arya pouted her lips and begged her sister.

Laughing with humor Lyarra replied “Arya you promised that if I agreed to teach you in secret that you would listen to every instruction I gave, this counts as one. It’s too dangerous to be sneaking around with the kings guard around.”

“Yes.” Lyarra interjected with a look. “No buts. Now let's begin the lesson” with that she lunged towards her and began dueling with her.

With each lesson Arya was improving. Raising her sword to block an attack to her right she took a step forward with her left foot and drove her back.

Entering the Godswood Jon stopped to watch his two sisters sparring.

He never doubted Arya would have begged Lyarra to train her until she agreed, after all Lyarra had a hard time telling her no. She was her favorite sibling or sister.

Robb was definitely her favorite, they spent every minute together since they could walk. Though in the last few years they spent less time together, Robb was off with Theon or himself, while Lyarra spent her time riding and sparring with Arya or himself. If she wasn’t with any of her siblings she was playing her harp and singing ballads to Rickon and Bran.

Sensing a presence behind her Lyarra stopped their sparring and quickly turned around, relief spread across her features when she realized it was only Jon.

“The king and his caravan has been spotted, they’ll be here within the hour” Jon announced, continuing on with a smile “I thought you would like sometime to prepare, style your hair and change into a fancier dress.”

Arya scoffed in annoyance at having her lesson interrupted by the arrival of the King. Lyarra raised her eyebrow and answered in a snicker “Of course how could I not prepare myself for the arrival of the King and his court. After all Robb, Theon and yourself had to shave and trim your pretty locks of hair”

“Let’s go and prepare for their arrival, after all what would your Lady mother say about her less than adequate appearance” she said to Arya.

Rolling her eyes Arya merely nodded her head and followed her two older siblings back to the castle.

 

“Where’s Arya?” Lady Stark asked Sansa, she merely shrugged. Arya quickly ran up and surprised her parents by wearing a helmet. Jon and her tried to contain their laughter and smiled in amusement. “What are you doing with that?” Ned asked his daughter as he took off the helmet. She gave him no reply and hurriedly took her place beside Sansa and told Bran to move out of her spot in the family order.

Standing beside Jon and Theon behind the Stark family Lyarra watched as the Kings retinue rode in. In the front was a blonde boy, that was Prince Joffrey most likely. He radiated cunt energy, she bet that was a real pratt, then there was the man with a helmet shaped in the image of a dog, that must be the Hound.

Then came the royal wheelhouse, with the King. She could hardly believe that King Robert was ever able to wield an enormous warhammer much less win a single fight, the only thing it seemed he wielded nowadays was a turkey leg in one hand and a wine goblet in the other.

Bowing her head and kneeling down as he dismounted her horse she heard the King approach Lord Stark.

When Lord Stark started to rise, everyone else followed. Lyarra kept her head bowed. “Your Grace” Lord Stark said with respect, King Robert looked at him and replied “You’ve got fat.” Both men gave each other a look, everybody tensed up until they broke into laughter.

One by one the king greeted the Starks “Cat” he said with a smile and gave her a hug, moving on he merely patted little Rickons head. Moving back to Ned “Nine years since I last saw you. Where the hell you’ve been? He asked.

“Guarding the North for you your grace. Winterfell is yours” He replied, then the King went to Robb “What have we here? You must be Robb. They shook hands, walking on to Sansa “Aye, you’re a pretty one”, she smiled in reply. Leaning down towards Arya he asked “Your name is?”

“Arya '' he nodded his head and went to Bran “Ooh, show us your muscles' ' Raising his arm up Bran flexed his muscles, hissing in laughter he replied “You’ll be a soldier. Then he looked up and stopped dead in his tracks.

“Lyanna” he said as if he saw a ghost.

Realizing he was talking to her, she froze. Lyanna? That was her aunts name, the one she never met. Looking up she saw the King was staring at her intensely.

“That is Lyarra your grace, one of my bastards.” Ned said to the king hoping to distract him. Coming to his senses Robert nodded his head.

“You look just like you aunt” looking over to his best friend he followed with “better keep a close eye on her, all the men will be fighting over this one.

Grimacing Ned nodded his head.

Looking over Lyarra watched as one of the Kings guard removed his helmet, while flipping his golden hair in the process. “That's Jaime Lannister, the Queen’s twin brother” Arya said in wonder, with annoyance Sansa replied “Would you please shut up” Always the same those two. He was quite handsome the tales did not lie, although he was nothing compared to Robb and his auburn hair and blue eyes.

Walking over the Queen went over to Lord Stark and reached out her hand, taking it and kissing it he said “My Queen”. Giving a contrived smile in return. “My Queen” Lady Stark said with a bow.

“The crypt I want to pay my respects” Robert announced.

“We’ve been riding for a month my love, surely the dead can wait” Cersie replied.

Ignoring the Queen, Robert nodded to Lord Stark and commanded him to take him to the crypts. “Ned”

Well clearly the King and Queen is miserable in their marriage Lyarra thought.

Where was the Queen's other brother? Looking over she noticed the Queen and her twin were talking about something important from the looks of it.

Ignoring the glare Lady Stark was throwing her way for no doubt distracting the King and having Lord Stark announce his bastards to the whole court, Lyarra turned away and left.

“Noticing his mother's venomous looks towards Lyarra he went and followed his sister.

All the while Jaime watched with curious eyes. Perhaps Winterfell would not be as boring as he thought.

[cyoza]

shrike

I was not going to post on here and I tried like 5 times but for some reason the ao3 link isn’t showing up in the tags sand I’m feeling very frustrated so I’m just going to upload the first chapter on here and then the rest of the chapters will be on ao3 because it took me forever last time to get all the chapters together here 

I’m going to post the link to my ao3 at the end and see if it works this time but its literally giving me a headache lol 

- 

In his 3 years as a protective agent of the CIA, Dick Grayson had never once slept past his alarm. However, he’d never felt the urge stronger than he did that morning. Even with the blaring siren of his alarm sounding, he’d lay staring at the ceiling for the few minutes he could spare wishing he could hit the snooze button. 

For the next 6 months. 

Dick had been very lucky in his 5 year career, shadowing various important but interesting diplomats and thus learning a lot more than the average person about the world and often top secret information. But it seemed like his luck had run out. For he was to spend the next 6 months babysitting some spoiled, pampered princess. 

Kory Anders had definitely built up a reputation for herself - and not necessarily a good one. From his research, he had found multiple articles that described her short temper, recklessness and honestly almost careless attitude towards dating; a new man or woman on her arm every month. It didn’t help that she was an actual princess which meant that guarding her was going to be a bigger pain in the ass than usual. When it came to Royals, they would feel more comfortable with their own services as well as CIA protection which made it all the more difficult to get the job done. Safe to say there was no real part of him looking forward to the task. 

But Dick got up anyway, clicking off both his phone alarm and battery back up along the way. He got ready in a daze, cruising on autopilot until he stood in front of the mirror adjacent to his front door. White shirt crisp and immaculate as usual, dark navy tie placed perfectly at the centre, all pulled together with a sharp angled black blazer. 

A picture of a model agent. 

Bruce Wayne would be proud. 

Dick watched as his eyes narrowed automatically at the thought but he forced himself to relax; he didn’t need anymore tension in his body today and thinking about his adoptive father wasn’t going to help.  

So he grabbed his keys and made his way to work, again not really present for the journey but the dread that settled in him as he pulled into the parking lot forcibly ejected him out of his reverie and back to reality. 

He tried to ignore it, doing the best he could to seem like his charismatic but professional self as he made it through security. Saying hello to Joe as he x-rayed his bag and commenting on Max’s new hair do as she scanned through his fingerprints and ID before making his way through the halls to the DS’s office. 

He paused facing the heavy mahogany door, bracing himself before knocking. 

‘Come in,’ was the gruff reply. 

Dick let out a sigh before entering, shutting the door softly behind him and making his way to stand by the double burgundy leather arm chairs opposite the mahogany desk. 

Directorate of Support Officer Charles ‘Chip’ Wenthem looked every bit the stereotypical middle-aged officer was to be expected to look. Thick grey caterpillar moustache with a matching buzzcut and permanently stress induced protruding coronary in the neck. 

‘Ah Grayson, good you’re here. The Royal Family will be here any minute. I know this isn’t the best assignment but I want you to put your best foot forward, alright? We really need this to go well.’ 

‘Of course, sir. Looking forward to doing the best I can for my country as always.’ He lied, giving him a tense but polite smile that neither reassured nor reinforced his statement. Yet neither of them mentioned anything, knowing the job would get done either way to an exemplary standard anyway. 

‘Glad to hear it, son. Now, as explained in the dossier, you’ll be guarding the Princess Kory Anders of Tamaran along with her personal protection services named Faddei Adeliyi. You’ve done this enough times that I don’t need to hold your hand, Grayson, but proceed with caution. The Tamaranians keep to themselves so we don’t know much about them for a background on customs. Follow their lead and watch yourself. You’re one of my best agents and I don’t want you to get kicked off this case for something stupid, alright?’ 

Dick suddenly felt the tension he’d tried very hard to suppress return to his body at full force. Chip was a good DS but it was times like this that he felt his patience with him was paper thin. 10 years of experience in law enforcement with 5 of them in covert operations just to have him speak to him like he was a teenager fresh out the force on his first mission. Dick bit back his frustration and gave him another tight smile but before he could speak again, there was a knock at the door prior to Chip’s mousy assistant poking his head through. 

‘Um, sir, we have the Tamaranean Royal family through security and here to see you.’ Arthur spoke quietly, shifting his eyes rapidly between Chip and the floor. Even after 2 years working here, Arthur was still terrified of every single thing; it was a wonder how he even got the job. 

‘Send them in.’ Chip waved his hand in confirmation sending Arthur’s head back around the door before he came back to swing it wide open again. 

Dick had seen beautiful people in his life as he seemed to always fall into their orbit unintentionally. But they all paled in comparison to the people who walked in the room in those next 5 minutes. The man who walked in after Arthur could only be described as ethereal. Towering taller than any other person Dick had come into contact with, it wasn’t his height that commanded the attention in the room nor was it his transfixing good looks. His shoulder length dark locs framed his face and corresponded with his gruff beard, which were both laced through with grey and emphasised the high slant of his cheekbones. It was his eyes, however, that drew the attention to the face, a gleaming brilliant gold that seemed luminescent even in the poorly lit office. But it was neither of these things that person would be enthralled by. Rather the aura around him was so authoritative and regal that it demanded an attention that you never wanted to withdraw. He seemed to glide as he walked into the room, his mulberry chiffon-like robe swishing around him as if there was a breeze that existed only for him. Dick could only assume he was the King, especially with the thin intricately woven golden crown he wore, pinning back some of his locs. 

Even the guards that trailed behind him were some of the most stunning guards he’d ever seen, despite them dimming in comparison to the King. A man and a woman, again taller than the average person and again dressed in a similar shade of mauve to the King but more combat appropriate. Dick felt his knowledge of gender binary being challenged as he observed them both, the woman’s head shaved with a complex design tattooed across the expanse and the man with equally elaborate braids running across his scalp and trailing down his back. He had never felt more inferior in his life, even with Bruce Wayne as a father. 

Dick’s attention was brought back to Chip as he made his way around the desk to greet them. 

‘Your Majesty King Myand’r, welcome to the US. It is our utmost pleasure to be able to host you on your stay here.’ Chip had never sounded or looked more nervous in his life, this interaction clearly having the same effect on him as it was having on Dick. 

‘Thank you..Charles, is it?’ He questioned, moving forward to extend a hand which ‘Charles’ anxiously but gratefully accepted. ‘And you must be Dick.’ He turned to Dick and stretched out a hand toward him too. 

‘Yes, Your Majesty.’ Dick hoped his voice sounded strong and stable but he made sure that his handshake was, uncharacteristically wanting to exert himself, as futile as he felt it was. 

‘So you’re the one protecting my daughter. Then let me introduce, my eldest daughter - Princess Koriand’r.’

King Myand’r stepped aside and it felt like all the breath had been punched out of Dick’s lungs. He had seen pictures, of course, but as beautiful as she was in them, they all felt like insults compared to the real thing. Dick didn’t know where to look first, completely overwhelmed by her presence. She seemed to be a head shorter than her father so she still dwarfed everyone in the room and it didn’t help that the vivid scarlet curls that sat atop her head gave her added inches that she really didn’t need. The crimson coils seemed to halo her face in a heart shape, her cheekbones high and sharp like her father’s and just like her father, her eyes were transfixing. Bright and shimmering, they mimicked his luminosity but hers were an emerald green that paralleled the jewels themselves. They were only emphasised by the glittery gold eyeshadow she wore, her pouty full lips also painted with a dark maroon. 

Dick knew he was being rude but he couldn’t help but look at her. It was difficult to look away, especially when she also wasn’t wearing very much. As relatively warm as it was in Virginia in September, it definitely didn’t warrant the outfit she wore, or lack thereof. Again she wore a varying shade of purple to her counterparts, but this time it covered way less. Clothed in a light cotton skirt he could barely call a skirt, it reached the floor but the two high slits travelling up her legs all the way to her hips left very little to the imagination so her legs seemed to go on forever which were only highlighted by the 5 inch gold gladiator sandals she was wearing. Her midriff was also bare, the top she was wearing covering her breasts and not very much else, wrapping around them with two tiny trivial spaghetti straps holding the fabric up. 

Dick felt like he had been staring at her for a lifetime but it was probably only 10 seconds, so he cleared his throat and stepped forward to greet her. 

‘Princess Koriand’r, hello. My name is Dick Grayson, I’ll be forming part of your protective team while you are here in the US. It is very nice to meet you and it’s an honour to be guarding you.’ Dick stepped forward to extend a hand to her but was taken aback when she merely rolled her eyes to the side and ignored his outreached hand to fold her arms. 

Dick looked frantically between the King and Chip dropping his hand and worried that he’d made a faux pas and offended her within a minute of meeting her. But he had merely taken the cue from her father with a handshake. Maybe it was different for different genders? Perhaps he was supposed to curtsey or bow? 

‘You must excuse my daughter, Mr Grayson, she is proving difficult to convince that she does in fact need your services. She is quite headstrong which is a trait we admire in our country as it shows strength. But in times like this, we could possibly do without it.’ He explained before gesturing to his daughter.

‘You don’t need to talk about me like I’m not here, Father.’

Dick reeled hearing her voice; it was rich and melodic and suited her perfectly. 

‘Well, Koriand’r, start acting like you are here and maybe I won’t have to,’ the King retorted. 

‘I don’t see why we have to be here at all. I am a trained warrior, there is no way that I could benefit from having these feeble h-’ 

‘Koriand’r, that’s enough!’ He cut her off sharply, eyes suddenly blazing. ‘It is time to stop acting like a child and act like you are next in line for the throne, for X’hal’s sake. The CIA were kind enough to extend their services to us while we are here and we were grateful to accept. You shall greet Mr Grayson here appropriately and behave yourself whilst you are under his care.’ 

Dick could see the fury building under her guise as her father admonished her, obviously wanting to argue when her body abruptly relaxed. She swung her head to face Dick, a wide, sultry smile on her face before making her way to stop a few inches in front of him, hips swaying enticingly as she strolled over. He only hoped his swirling mind wasn’t evident and his professional facade was still in place as he inhaled her sweet rosy scent. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to keep control of himself and not let himself be party to whatever game she was trying to play.

‘Hello, Mr Grayson, it’s a pleasure. I can only thank you for your service and I look forward to being under your care.’ She purred, lifting her hand towards him. 

Oh, these 6 months were going to be longer than expected. 

- 

Further chapters: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21785914

[jojoreadwhat]

you're all in my hands tonight, tonight I'm a rock 'n' roll star. / honey & smoke - m.h. x OFC story

Four Days Later, On A Friday.

Matty's POV

Computer Education had already given me a sour taste in my mouth and I only sat through two of its lectures. One because I knew majority of what was listed on the slides Professor Nolan was scheming through. I really had no explanation why I applied at UNI in the first place. I had high hopes that the tapes the boys and I sent into Capital Records would hit a soft spot. Sending us on a one way trip to success, where none of these qualifications would matter as long as I wrote out the music.

Then again if it all went down hill where I'd arrive at my flat with a box of tapes with the word 'denied' repeatedly stamped over it like fragile, even though my heart would be the fragile piece in that box. It would open the door behind the scene, the little paper of a degree with my name. A ticket of being able to tweak the shitty tunes on the radio that replayed like the TV movies do on Sundays.

Two, Professor Nolan was a bit of a drag. A fine dapper looking gentlemen in his early fifties. His hair slick back dirty blonde with what looked like emerald eyes the last time I stood close. A close shaved beard that extenuated his sharp jaw line. Dressed to the nines that if you seen him on the streets, you would've thought he had millions and a white collar type business. Even though, his Gucci navy suit that my father had exactly and bought for fifteen hundred dollars could make you believe he sat on a green mountain of dollar signs.

I felt his personality and aura resembled a present me. Barely in tune with all the new things happening but completely in tune with the young ladies that gave any advantages to pass. But in his case the young ladies could pass as daughters if the sucker had any.

"Open Audio Access on your laptops." He commanded, changing the slides that was accompanied with taps and clicks from everyone following along. I sighed to myself, everything that was on those poorly designed boards. I had edited and achieved on a new track the boys and I had recorded last night.

I slouched back in my seat, listening to Nolan's cocky Mr. Know-It-All demeanor. His degrees decorating the back of his desk fact it in that he knew more. Only giving him the approval of having Professor in front of Nolan instead of Mister.

++

After commenting on Mindy's plaid skirt, Professor Feast-A-Lot finally dismissed us.

I still had a class within the hour, just some simple music class that I signed up for the laughing matter. Always stating my answers to bands I drowned myself in as the other students wanted to cuss me out. Sighing to themselves, like that mop got the spill of answers.

With the time I had between I decided to get some coffee. The tea I had earlier with George talking about his night wasn't living up to it's strong expectations. Even though the class I just left could stand as a contender of an explanation.

I walked with the rush of the hundreds in the halls, making my way to left wing lounge and turning the corner of muraled up wall, covered in vibrant flowers and weird shapes from the art program.

Waiting at the counter I turned to scan the little lounge, just many studying with their textbooks as heads. Some talking to another. Just the common vibe of any little coffee shop you stepped your foot into.

One of them sticking out like a sore thumb.

Lucy.

Writing in her leather bound journal that rested on her crossed legs, playing with the slight tear in her in the hem of her playful colored dress.

Relaxed and looking out the window on the purple wing-back in the cafe lounge. Watching the shades of orange, red and yellow converse against the blue sky. Admiring her side profile, a high cheek bone with a light dusting of blush against her milky skin, her perfectly rounded jaw. Her lashes curled with a coding of mascara that complimented her baby blues.

I watched as she grazed her bottom rosy lip with the back of her pen in thought.

The red headed barista asked for the second time what I wanted before realizing that she was even speaking. Finding it hard to take my eyes off the scenery near the window. I ordered my black coffee, then pointed out Lucy who looked disappointed in the last drops of her cup. Dark roast, light with vanilla, sugar and two shots of the sleep she had lost the night before.

--------------------------------------------

Lucy's POV.

I was finding myself becoming a frequent patient with my therapeutic glances of the vibrant trees and the sounds of the espresso machine. Sitting in the same wingback, looking about the window, stuck in what I was going to jot in my journal next. My first week of being in London and enduring classes was wrapping up, nothing worthy had happened yet to write about and I was finding myself running around a writer's block.

As much as I wanted my creative juices to keep blending. I couldn't complain about how things were going. University has been so far treating me well. I've met a good handful of my professors in Week A, many have taken a liking to me which I couldn't quite grasp. But it wasn't a bad feeling to know about, plus Professor Jones really liked my thesis of A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Putting a good word into the librarian of the Uni's library and landing me a interview for Monday.

Things at the university housing with Liz and Abby was going pretty well too. I was growing more fond of them by the minute, both interested in the same type of books, music and films. Liz was a bit realistic and logic about life, which kind of put a damper on things if you were trying to live in a fantasy world with reality biting you in the ass. Then Abby was more free spirited and self aware of what made an individual very much happy, even when the world was not so happy.

Then lastly, home. I finally Skyped my brother Eric and my dad. It was early for them but quite late for me. But in all I was mixed with emotions, both joyful and sad that I wasn't home. They are doing well so far.

I sighed to myself, resting my leather bound on my lap and retreating my blue eyes to the shades of orange, red and yellow. Reaching for the coffee I had finished moments ago, but reluctant to get up and grab another.

But that was before one was brought to me instead. By another thing that I had happened to come across this week.

"Am I intruding?" The English native that I met my first night here had greeted, handing me the warm paper cup with pretty botanical flowers repeated. I shook my head, gesturing my free hand to the wingback across.

Matty sat down, folding his long legs over one another. His eyes meeting mine, smiling softly as his mouth indulged in a sip. Giving me a few moments to admire before another word.

He wasn't wearing his glasses today but his hair was the same as the night I met him. Pulled back into a bun with loose curls shaping out his face. My eyes leading down to his lined out jaw. His collarbones, the tattoo that always made an appearance no matter what type of shirt he wore this week. To the lasting hole over his knee.

I was broken from my stare when he had chuckled, possibly figuring out that I was staring long.

"Anything new?" He asked, his eyes gesturing to my open leather bound. I shook my head, slowly closing it against my knee before my eyes met his again.

He looked at me surprised and in disbelief, "So the storyteller doesn't have a story to tell?" He questioned, resting his cup on the table aside us. I shrugged, it was truly hard to believe but as my mind moved fast the world outside of it didn't and I was at a stand still.

"It just been classes, reading and then some." I finished, finally taking a sip of my coffee.

Matty smiled at me again, a smile I could watch curl at the ends of his mouth like a favorite part to a movie. "We may have to change that." He said, looking at me with tricks under his sleeves and me swimming in his over sized sweater.

I had to cut my coffee break short when I realized I had time run to my next class, Woman Studies.

Shortly becoming my favorite class as we debated fundamental rights and she played Kathleen Hanna fronted Bikini Kill winning my anarchy heart.

"Don't forget to read The Second Sex and please have your reasoning's sent in by 12 AM on Monday." She dismissed. I followed suit with the rest of the class as I packed away my things for the weekend.

Making my way to the hall to get lost in the hundred of others trying to head out and not miss the next Tube coming by. The boy in a leather jacket that I was sharing a coffee with an hour earlier was leaning against the wall next to the door.

His devious smirk gracing upon his face, "I'm feeling like you're onto something." I commented, a small smile plastering across my cheeks. Matty rippled a contagious laugh that I could listen to like an album on my turntable.

"Can't a gentleman just walk a lady home safely?" He remarked.

++

"No! That's a lie!" I laughed, hitting Matty's forearm lightly. We had moved onto music since Matty offered to walk me home. And let's just say we had a few differences.

Matty loved older music, which I did too. But I found Prince to be a bit cooler than MJ. Which didn't sit well with Matty. "Have you heard the magic in Rock With You?" He mentioned, "It's fucking legendary!" It was so funny to see him go off, but I never said I didn't like the man! I knew how the sounds had your hips moving. I was just a Purple Rain kind of girl.

Matty stood in front of me, walking backwards down the sidewalk.

Girl. Close your eyes... He began singing, moving his hips to the beats that played out in his head. Taking my hand, and pulling me close.

Let that rhythm get into you, don't try to fight it. Placing one hand above my hip, the other still in mine. Directing my hips into a sway, as his voice hit me like sweet serenity.

He went on, and I was enjoying every bit of it. Music was his muse like books were mine and he wasn't ashamed to show it. His hips showing that he never stopped moving either.

We had arrived to the front of my flat, Matty belting more songs of MJ.

"I have to get in," I mentioned, not really wanting to do so. Matty's lips kept moving "Not until you change your mind." Singing in the measures of Don't Stop Till You Get Enough.

I chuckled, still dancing with him till I finally caved in. "Alright, Michael Jackson is better." I confessed, meaning every word that fell from my mouth. He just chuckled, pulling me closer and bringing his lips to my ear.

"I think you're lying" his warm breath grazing my lobe. Sending chills down my spine. I went to protest when Liz and Abby got out of their car. Interrupting our manifest. They just softly smiled, saying Hello before retreating up the porch. I looked up at Matty, who still had his hand around my waist.

Matty pulled away with a soft but questionable expression on his face. I wondered what was on his mind.

"Come watch us play tonight." He said, "The boys and I are playing at the bar George's bartends in. I'd like to see you there."

Many different excuses ran through my mind. Studying, catching some sleep, watching the same three episodes of The Office, outline my far along memoir that would be a flop. Just a rush of things that could've fallen from my mouth.

"Alright, sounds like fun." Happened to be the better option.

Matty's smirk turn a bit shy, looking to the ground before he looked back up at me.

"I'll pick you up at 6?" He questioned, I nodded. Still confused on why I was agreeing to this extravaganza in the first place. A smile gracing his face once more before turning on his Vans to head back to where his road led him.

"See you soon, Blue."

[child-of-thedarknight]

His Dirty Little Secret

I woke up and rolled out of my bed, slowly shuffling to the bathroom in my dorm as I went for my shower. I turned on the water as I got in, letting the hot water relax my muscles as I attempted to wake myself up for the day. I quickly washed, shaved and dried myself off, putting moisturiser on my legs to make them smoother. I then blow dried my hair before getting dressed. I put on my tights, skirt, shirt, tie and my school shoes that had a little bit of a heel on them. I made sure my skirt was higher than the school rules allowed, then I curled my half black, half red hair. I then grabbed my school books and bag, and went downstairs for breakfast.

I walked in and saw my brothers all sitting at our house table. I went and sat with them grabbing a green apple and pouring myself some pumpkin juice for breakfast. "Why do you always only eat green apples Emma?" My brother, Jackson asked. "Because red apples taste funny. That's why." I replied, pulling out my potions homework that was due today. Snape would kill me if I didn't have it done. As I was about three quarters of the way through, my bestfriend Ashleigh walked over and said she needed to talk to me. I got up, grabbed my book bag, and followed her out. We went back to her common rooms and sat down on her bed. "Help. Dilemma. Make up crisis. Sebastian wants to take me to Hogsmeade as we have a day off and I am useless when it comes to makeup. Please help." She pleaded. I sighed and went through her make up, thinking of what would work, trying to match it up with her outfit. I eventually decided on a smoky cut crease for the eyeshadow, winged eyeliner, a light foundation and blush, and a dark pink lipstick. I did her eyebrows, helped her change out her nose stud for a nose ring, and then she was ready to go. I also quickly put on a deep purple lipstick and did a smoky eye for me. "Thank you so much Emma. What would I do without you?" She asked. "Probably die." I replied as we laughed. I heard the bell toll, signaling my first class of the day, Herbology. I quickly hugged Ashleigh, wished her well on her date, and rushed to the greenhouses.

"Greenhouse Three today guys." We heard Professor Sprout yell out from behind us. We had Herbology with the Ravenclaws, so I paired up with my bestfriend from Ravenclaw, Amy. "Girl you are gonna get in so much trouble with Snape for your skirt today." She informed me as we sat down. "Incase you haven't noticed babes, I really don't care." I replied as we completed our task. We then parted ways as I headed off to Transfiguration and she went to Ancient Runes. I successfully turned my turtle into a teapot, and got ten points awarded to my house. As soon as the bell rang for lunch, we were up and out of there so quickly. I rushed to the Great Hall, wanting to get a seat with my brothers. As I sat down next to Freddie, I noticed a certain blond Slytherin staring at me from across the hall. "He is staring at you again little sis. Can I deal with him?" asked Freddie. "Nahh. I can handle him." I said as we ate our lunch and talked about Quidditch and the team trials that were coming up. I finally agreed to try out for the team beater and then headed off early to my last class of the day, Potions.

As I was waiting outside for Professor Snape, Malfoy and his gang came and stood next to me. He clicked his fingers and they all went and did something else. "Sit next to me in Potions today. We need to talk about certain things." He demanded and walked off before I could reply. I sighed and went in as Snape walked in. I took my seat at the back of the classroom and Draco came and sat next to me. We received odd looks from others, but between his cold stare and my resting bitch face, they all looked away. "Today, we will be doing theory work with who you are sitting with. By the end of the lesson, you will be able to tell me the uses of Wolfsbane, Draught of Living Death, and Veritaserum. Understood?" Snape drawled in his monotone voice. We all nodded and got to work. "Want to explain to me what the hell you are doing wearing your skirt that short?" Draco hissed at me as I started writing down the uses of Wolfsbane. "I wear it like this everyday, Malfoy. You know this." I said as I rolled my eyes. Draco let out a sigh of anger as he started writing down what we needed as well. "How about why you were with Zabini last night, past curfew? I know you weren't studying." he queried. "How do you know I was with Zabini? Also, what I do with my life is none of your concern. If I wanted to have fun with Zabini, I could. You don't control my life Draco!" I whisper yelled as I got up, handed my finished essay and my homework in, and left to go to my dorm. I was so frustrated with Draco at the moment. Honestly, who does he think he is? Thinking he can control my life and what I do. I got out of my school uniform and changed into my black ripped skinny jeans, my Machine Gun Kelly shirt, Rap Devil hoodie and my combat boots. I put my hair into two braids, and put on my EST 19XX bandana. I grabbed my firebolt and my wand, going out into the corridors before mounting my broom and flying out of the window.

I flew around the castle, over the trees of the forbidden forest, and then to the Quidditch grounds, where I lazily floated in the air, casting random spells and practicing for our charms quiz later this week. After about half an hour of flying around, another person joined me. I looked over to see the ever so annoying Draco Malfoy flying next to me. I rolled my eyes, not ready for another argument with him, and slowly started flying away. It started to drizzle as I was flying around so I decided to just take it slow. Malfoy was still following me, which was making me even more pissed off. "And what in the world could you possibly want now Malfoy? Haven't you got Pansy to go and be with?" I asked him, letting my anger seep through my words. He looked shocked, but quickly recovered as he replied with a witty comment. "I really don't want to be around that clingy bitch. I would rather annoy you to the point of breaking." I sighed and flew down to the ground, heading off towards the castle. "We aren't done with our talk yet little miss." He yelled as he sent our brooms to their respective places, picked me up, and apparated to his dorm. "What the bloody hell are you doing you numpty?" I questioned as he cast the Muffliato charm on his dorm. I rolled my eyes at the fact that of course the Prince of Slytherin got his own dorm, and went and sat on the couch. He walked over to his bed, took off his shoes, socks and his jumper, loosening his tie before lying down and motioning for me to join him. "I'd rather not thanks." I said icily as I turned back to the fire and continued to stare into it. I heard him sigh loudly in annoyance before he went quiet. After an hour of nothing being said between us, I sighed and finally joined him on the bed after taking my shoes and socks off.

"Why aren't you talking to me anymore Emma? We used to talk everyday before the holidays, and now you are just ignoring me and swanning around with other guys that aren't me. What's going on?" He asked me as he put my hood of my jumper down. I looked at him and saw that he truly was hurt, but I honestly did not feel sorry for him at this moment. "You know what you did Malfoy. You know why I'm not talking to you. You don't control my life, and if I choose to go around enjoying myself with other men, then I can. And you can't stop me Malfoy. It was YOU who made the decision to join in with your stupid friends when they gang bashed Jason. It was YOU who had no intention of stopping them. It was YOU who I thought would have the common sense to realise what you were doing. But you didn't. You fucked up. You just can't accept that. So no, I will not stop messing around with Zabini or anyone else I want to." I finished my rant and wiped away the tears that I wasn't even aware were falling down my face. I went to go get off the bed and leave when I felt Draco's hand wrap around my wrist and pull me into a hug. "I am so sorry for what I did Emma. I know I can't fix it. I know that what I did was irreversible and I can't take it back. If I could have done anything to help, you know I would have. I am so sorry for what I did and I want you to forgive me so bad. I know that you hate me right now and I shouldn't be trying to control who or what you do. I just want us back. I want you to be mine the way we were before I fucked up. Please Emma. Please give me one more chance." he started trembling as he spoke and I knew the tears were going to start soon. I pulled back from the hug and wiped his tears. I noticed he had rolled up his sleeves, and when I looked down I recoiled from his touch as if it had suddenly become acid and was melting my skin. He noticed and then realised why I had.

"HOW COULD YOU DRACO?! YOU PROMISED ME YOU NEVER WOULD. YOU SAID YOU WOULD RATHER DIE THAN GET THAT DONE!" I yelled as I got up an went to leave. "NO! DON'T YOU DARE WALK AWAY FROM ME EMMA! I HAD NO FUCKING CHOICE! HE WAS GOING TO KILL ME IF I DIDNT. I WAS GOING TO TELL YOU, BUT YOU JUST WOULDNT FUCKING TALK TO ME. IT'S BAD ENOUGH BOTH OF OUR FATHERS ARE WITH HIM. IT'S EVEN WORSE THAT NOW WE BOTH HAVE OUR MARKS!" He yelled as he grabbed my arm and pushed up the sleeve of my hoodie. I ripped my arm away and glared at him. "DON'T YOU DARE BRING MY FATHER INTO THIS! I SWORE WHEN I TOOK THE MARK THAT NO ONE WOULD KNOW. DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS FOR ME AND MY BROTHERS TO HIDE IT FROM PEOPLE? YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE IN THE SCHOOL THAT KNOWS DRACO! SO DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO TURN THIS ON ME!" I retorted. His face was red with rage as he tried to think of a reply. I was so prepared for him to yell at me, so when he kissed me, I was shocked. This wasn't the slow, gentle kind of kiss either. This was the rage filled, passionate, demanding type of kiss that sent shivers down my spine. He picked me up and threw me on the bed, climbing back on top of me as I threaded my hands through his hair. He bit my bottom lip and I moaned into the kiss. He took this opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth as his hands slowly trailed down my body, sending electric shocks through my body wherever he touched me. He pulled my hoodie off and discarded it somewhere in the room, along with my shirt. I loosened his tie enough that I could pull it off, before ripping off his shirt, buttons flying everywhere. He smirked at me before dipping his head down between my breasts, leaving kisses all over my chest as he unclasped my bra and threw it somewhere in his room.

He took one of my nipples in his mouth and started sucking on it whilst playing with the other. I moaned when he bit my nipple as it sent a pleasurable pain through my body. His hands trailed down as he came back up to kiss me, undoing my belt in the process. He took of my jeans and my panties before I flipped us over and took control. I took off his belt, jeans and boxers, and threw them somewhere in his room, not really caring right now. I looked up into his lust filled eyes as I slowly made my way down to his cock, leaving love bites all over his hips as I went. I licked and sucked on the tip, keeping eye contact the whole time. Draco moaned out in pleasure, and I was glad he had cast that spell. I slowly started taking him in, inch by inch, until I had all of him in my mouth. I bobbed my head up and down as Draco laid back, moaning in pleasure beneath me. I pulled off and slowly licked him from base to tip, tasting his precum before going back down. I went faster and faster as I started pumping him as well, trying to get him to his climax. "Ahh. Shit. Emma! I'm g- gonna --" He emptied his load into my mouth before he could finish his sentence. I swallowed it all and licked him clean before showing him. "Holy fuck." He whispered as I moved on top of him. I smirked and then giggled as he rolled us over so he was on top.

He slowly started kissing down my neck, sucking on a few spots to mark his territory. I moaned as he found my sweet spot and I felt him smirk against my skin. He continued sucking on that spot, leaving a dark purple hickey on my pale skin. He then continued his journey down to my core. He kissed my inner thighs, and made his way up to his destination. He licked a long strip up my heat as I let out a long, loud moan. He put my leg over his shoulder and then put his tongue inside my heat. I was in heaven. He slowly started working his fingers in as well as his tongue and it felt so good. I was moaning and biting my lip, trying not to scream out from the pleasure that I was receiving from him. I threaded my hands through his hair and was tugging so hard, I was surprised I didn't rip his hair from his scalp. Draco started to rub his thumb against my clit and within a few seconds, I reached my climax, moaning out Draco's name as I came down from my high. I pulled him up and kissed him long and hard. I then put his fingers in my mouth and licked them clean. Draco groaned at the sight, and his eyes darkened even more. "Fuck me Draco. Now." I demanded as I laid down on his bed, stretching out on his silk sheets. That was all Draco needed to lose all control. He slammed into me, hitting my spot right on the first time. I screamed out as he thrusted hard and fast, continuing to hit my spot dead on. Our kisses were filled with passion as our tongues danced and our bodies collided. I was reaching my climax. I could tell that Draco was as well. I tightened my walls around him and he started get sloppy with his thrusts. I screamed out his name as I reached my climax and he did the same as he reached his. We rode out our highs before he pulled out and collapsed on the bed next to me. I tried to catch my breath as he pulled me into his arms, putting the sheet over us. 

"Well, if that's a way to get rid of our anger, I suggest we do it more often." Draco spoke, panting as he also tried to catch his breath. I looked up at him and grinned, nodding my head in agreeance with him. He kissed the top of my head, wrapped his arms around me, and held me as we fell asleep. We would deal with the hell that was to come for the both of us in the morning. But for now. Sleep.

This is so bad. I’m sorry

[firekissedpiper]

— ✗ CHARADE

— ✗ Time Period: Late January, 2020.

— ✗ TW: Death, funeral, anti-religious thoughts, mentions of abuse.

Piper hated these things.

The ebony clad people, all sniffling and vying to try and show they were the most emotionally distraught. A dark way to think perhaps. But Piper had seen people. She knew people. And it wasn’t hard to be able to tell the crowd that’d shown up today was the type who would all be putting on the model worthy water works show. It was as if they were all ready to deliver a teary monologue on a soap opera. 

Every funeral she’d been to was like that. Elephant tears and couture gowns. As if the deceased cared about the new Louis Vuitton pumps of the season. She supposed that was just every funeral she’d been to with royals. Perhaps funerals for the common people were different. Maybe they were genuine. Maybe the person mattered more than their crown. 

Piper herself, was playing her own game of make belief. A tight lipped smile. Anyone knew she’d rather be scowling right now. Her straight posture, a regal pose that her mother would make some comment about if she was her. A black shirt combined with a skirt of all things. She was not Piper right now. She was just another sheep in the moment, hiding her true intentions, her true feelings. 

She was doing a lot of pretending lately. Pretending she wasn’t pregnant, pretending she was okay after murdering Tomas, pretending she didn’t love Gabel. She felt the slightest tremble within her stomach as the chaostrophic images flashed through her mind. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. Usually she’d rest a hand on her stomach, but the dress she wore barely concealed her bump now. The last thing she needed was the rumors.

“You look like a princess,” a voice purred from beside her. She looked up from her thoughts to see Gabel standing beside her. Even though that might have been misconstrued as compliment by anyone else. She could tell well enough by the amusement in his voice there was playful mockery mixed in. Sometimes she wondered what he’d say about her pregnancy, if he’d known. 

“Something important if I’m to blend in with the horde of mourning monarchs,” she retorted rather easily. She wouldn’t admit yet she was a mourning monarch herself, more genuine in her sullenness than she was ready to admit to herself.

“I never thought I’d see the day where you tried to be like other royals,” he purred, his trademark half-smirk on his lips. “May I sit?” He wasn’t usually this polite. It was probably an act, or maybe she didn’t remember him as well as she thought she did.

“And you’re any different, with the black suit and tie?” She jabbed back. A weak comment really. The brunette wasn’t exactly in the mood for the antics of the royal. 

“Well, father wouldn’t allow my funeral clothes to be anything different than traditional,” he commented, sitting down despite the fact she hadn’t agreed to such a thing. He crossed one leg over the other, making himself comfortable in his spot.

Piper settled back into her chair, fiddling subconsciously with the black skirt she was wearing. It was a rather loose fabric. It was soft - a good fabric for her anxiety twirling. When she was younger, her mother would shame her for such behaviors. Always complaining of wrinkles. Piper knew wrinkles were better than the other things she did. Thinking about the ways she used to pinch and press and pick at the scars on her burned hand made the old healed wounds ache once more. 

“You’re rather on edge,” Gabel noted, sounding very flippant. 

“Imagine that, given it’s a funeral and all,” Piper’s words dripped with sarcasm. Once upon a time, he had always done this. Whenever she was feeling the painful anxiety, or the fits of panic - when she’d often resort to destructive behaviors as opposed to dealing - he’d get her just irritated enough so she could let the cap off her emotions. He’d made her boil enough that steam would get out and she’d feel just a little relief. She missed it. She didn’t realize just how much he’d done until those months since their fight. 

“Well, does it really matter to you that much, surely very few people here actually care,” he pointed out, gesturing to the crowd. She looked around briefly. Some people were sat stone faced, others were pouring tears as if the pipe to their eyes broke and they simply couldn’t stop. She felt a stirring of hatred for those people. The ones making a spectacle out of this. It was usually something she carried very little about, but this time it mattered.

“I am not other people,” she remarked steadily, knowing that unlike most people, the guest of honor so to speak had meant something to her. 

“Here comes the family,” Gabel noted, taking her mind off the spiral she found herself going into. She didn’t know if that was the intention, or if perhaps her short attention span was starting to wear off on him. Hazel hues shifted to the left aisle of the church as she watched the family file in. They walked in perfect unison, looking fairly graceful and elegant. As was their job she supposed. Something about a united front.

Two females - both tall and thin and graceful. They looked like fairies, or what she imagined they’d look like. With their perfect figures and delicate features she could imagine if they couldn’t be princesses they’d one day have a career in modeling. Their almond shaped eyes glistened with tears. But in those chocolate orbs - the ones that almost appeared like molten gold with the sunlight pouring in through the windows - she could see past the feigned sadness. She could see the darkness coiling underneath. Despite their pretty forms she knew they were monsters. 

And of course, leading the group was a stone faced man. A perfectly trimmed grey beard, shaped to bring out a sharp jawline. Two accompany it was silver hair atop his head, trimmed and shaved into a rather smooth faded look, secured back with gel. He did not muster tears in the green eyes that might have looked so much like those of the deceased - but so much colder. No, he couldn’t pretend that much. Instead he appeared stone faced. The facade was layered, paired with an occasional lip twist as if he was holding back a well of emotions he was bombarded with upon entering the room. She didn’t hold back from staring at him. She knew the truth. 

Behind the three leaders of the family procession, were less defined members. They were quiet. She didn’t pay as much attention to them. After being greeted by the pastor, they all filed into the row. She knew the person who should have been resting in the empty closed coffin would have hated a church funeral. They’d hate the closed coffin too. 

“Burying an empty coffin like they actually care about the closure people claim to get. What a joke,” she muttered rather quietly. She didn’t want anyone else to hear her. Surely someone would make a big deal and she’d just contribute to the spectacle the tabloids would already be feeding on. “I hate this, wouldn’t you hate this?” She remarked, her anxiety showing in the hastily spoken words. 

“I do hate this,” he agreed briefly, his green eyes watching the procession rather carefully. 

Piper settled back somewhat, not enough to tighten her clothing and make the baby bump evident, but enough to try to become more comfortable. It was hard when she was as stiff as a wooden board, teeming with anxiety and wrecked with sadness. The brunette was having trouble concealing her emotions. 

It wasn’t two minutes after the family had seated themselves that the proceedings went on. The pastor took his place and began spewing as many lies as the people around them carried in each individual water droplet rolling down their faces. Lies of how the deceased took such comfort in God. It was a typical royal funeral. All the families were so tight in the religion department. It was like some royal tradition to worship one god or another. 

They were all told to rise. So she rose to her feet. The heels were uncomfortable as hell. It’d taken what felt like ages for her to try and find a pair that fit over her swollen feet. Pregnancy was such a pain. She couldn’t wait for the next six months to pass so she might finally be able to fit in her usual shoes. She was certain the pumps weren’t helping either honestly. But it was all part of the image, all part of blending in so it wasn’t so obvious that she didn’t belong with the crowd of imitation mourners. 

All at once, she tried to pay attention to both the crowd and the polished wooden coffin that sat in front of her. She took the opportunity of the closed eyes and bowed heads to see who actually seemed upset. Maybe she was just protective, or maybe she just knew the way these royal families were. Trying to slit each other’s throats one moment and then crying at their funerals the next. She hated this world so much.

Things were moving fairly quickly, at least it felt that way. It seemed like just a moment ago she’d been walking through the right aisle and tucking herself into one of the pews in the back. Now she was halfway through the service. A glance at the ornate clock told her it’d been more than a few minutes that had passed. Time just felt like it was moving faster. Moving too fast, to be correct. 

“Almost over,” Gabel chimed beside her, not bothering to whisper. It wasn’t as if he’d be noticed anyway.

When the pastor was done speaking, it was time for the eulogies. There were two. One from the cold man in the suit, the one who’d been making her life Hell for months. And then one from one of the beautiful monstrous pixies. She’d never met either, but she heard enough. Aside from the visitors, she knew enough about the others in the room. She’d been told stories of even the common people delivering cruelty to their crowned heir. 

She grit her teeth to hide her rage, so she could pretend like she wasn’t disgusted as the King put on the show of his life. If she did not know better, she would have believed that the deep creases in his face had been caused as he mourned for his former lover, for his wife, and now for his child. If she did not know better she would believe the words that sounded so sincere from his lips. But she knew better, and she knew that the words that dripped of honey and sincerity was just a way to disguise the venom that his mouth so often spilled. The spoonful of sugar that was meant to hide the foul taste of a bitter medicine. 

People around her fed right into it. Perhaps they believed him, or perhaps they were in on the act. Perhaps they were all just puppets, posing for the cameras that were no doubt televising this event. Somewhere in front of her she heard the first person break. Real or feigned? She didn’t know. She was starting to spin herself. Anger and crushing waves of melancholy had turned her brain into a tornado, picking up the chaotic emotions and the pieces of thoughts that came with it. 

She managed to stay silent. But she didn’t hide the fury and judgement in her eyes. She almost dared him to look at her. But he didn’t. He probably didn’t even know that she was hearing, judging him as he made a mockery out of his child’s funeral. It was a good thing she hadn’t brought Kaia or Ella. They shouldn’t have seen her like this. She was practically shaking.

“It’s infuriating isn’t it? He’s quite skilled at deception,” Gabel commented absently. His voice sounded faded.

Finally, the man stepped down from behind the podium, not before letting one tear slide down his face. So calculated. She understood the struggle now. Soon, one of the perfectly preened princesses rose from their seats. Tall and elegant, they glided up to the podium, as if it was a fashion show and not a funeral. She supposed that wasn’t so atypical. Most royals turned every walk into a runway when they had the chance to. 

The speech she delivered was far more heart wrenching, filled to the brim with childhood stories and memories. Tearful sentiments about losing her mother and now her brother being gone too. Piper knew a twisted lie when she saw it. The others in attendance believe it. But Piper knew the truth. She knew this girl had been just as much of a monster as the shark in the starch white suit. 

When the woman who presented herself broke down in tears near the end of her speech, claiming her brother now rested in Heaven with her mother, the rest of the church lost it too. So they wept, as if they had not been been complacent in the torture of the one who they claimed was now in Heaven. They wept as if their torment had not crafted the broken boy who sported the moniker of monster because he would rather be feared and hated than loved. 

Finally, she walked down the steps and headed back to her seat too. Piper was relieved when the pastor took over. Even his jabbering was easier to listen to than that of the family of serpents. The closing sentiments included a hymn and some spoken words of the deceased resting with god now. She wasn’t really listening by that time.

“That was a charade, wasn’t it? I suppose you’re not any better though,” Gabel commented rather glibly, amusement dancing on his features. 

Piper reeled from that comment. She stumbled to find the words to speak, a way to respond. “I am better,” she said quickly, dismissing his words. 

“You are sat pretending as if you’re clean. As if you’ve never inflicted just as much damage as they did. You act better, and angry. But the word monster left your lips too. Near the end you hated him too,” he said, as if he was saddened by that. And while he’d been hurt, Piper knew he was rarely one to show sadness. Anger was the first resort for Gabel.

“I didn’t mean it. It was a mistake, I was damaged,” she said rather quietly, almost embarrassed. It was one of her biggest regrets, calling him a monster. She still hadn’t forgiven herself. Her throat was starting to feel thick and dry, like she hadn’t had water in months. But the tears in her eyes told another story. “I miss you,” she whispered quietly. “There are so many things I want to tell you,” she said the words rather weakly. 

“You had your chance to do that, but you didn’t,” he told her. 

Piper had a hard time getting a handle on her emotions again. She was trying to stop the falling tears. For so long she’d been able to hold back, to not cry about what had happened. To not cry about what she lost. She didn’t even realize that the funeral had ended. People were starting to leave. Finally, a voice pulled her from her spiral. 

“Is anyone sitting here?” It was a rough voice, old and weak. But someone soft at the same time. She looked up to see an elderly woman gesturing to the seat behind her. “It’s hard for an old lady to make their way around these seats you know.” 

“Yes, it’s available,” Piper said, looking at the empty seat beside her. No amount of wishing, daydream or imagination was going to fill that seat with who she wanted it to be. No amount of memories could make it so she could really hear his voice again, or take in his scent. 

The elderly lady sat down alongside Piper, huffs and puffs leaving her as she did so. “It was a beautiful service wasn’t it?” The woman asked.

“Yes, lovely,” Piper didn’t share her true opinion. It wasn’t going to gain her any popularity among this crowd. Aside from that she couldn’t tell if this woman was testing her or was genuine. 

“How did you know him?” The woman asked, looking over at Piper with a soft expression. 

“Who?” She asked. She knew who she was talking about, but she needed to hear it. She wouldn’t be able to convince herself it was real until she heard it. 

“Prince Gabel, God rest his soul.”

[pillowfluffs]

Pouty!Changkyun

Pairing: Changkyun X Reader (Gender Neutral)

Genre: I don’t even need to say it (fluff if you’re new)

Author’s Note: this is short but I saw this on Instagram and it was too cute and I literally started and did the majority of this story in one day and ahh wefweif I love it so I hope you enjoy it! This is basically a heart healing story for those who read You Promised!Changkyun since that story was very angsty!

You walked hand in hand with your love, Changkyun approaching the somewhat crowded mall, both wearing couples' matching jeans and white shirt. Today was the first day in a few weeks where Changkyun was able to have a free day with no practices or recordings or anything idol related. Today he was your Changkyun than the group’s maknae, I.M. The sky was clear with some white fluffy clouds here and there, the sun reflected off some of the glass that majority of the mall was constructed of. The automatic sliding doors opened as the two of you approached it, triggering its sensor. A cool breeze of air blew into your faces from the air conditioning running throughout the mall. Soft music played over the speakers, filling your ears’ along with the hum of chatter from everyone as they walked to and fro from stores. 

“Are there any stores you want to in particular first?” Changkyun looked at you as the two of you walked slowly, approaching the lineup of stores as they were side by side. The light from the windows on the ceiling of the mall reflected off of him, making it seem as if he was an angel. The light made his light brown hair seem even lighter, accentuating his somewhat pale and melanin skin. 

“Mmm, I don’t think so... I remembered I wanted to buy some art stuff but I’m not in a rush so we can just get it when we walk past the store.” You wanted to buy some watercolor paper and the actual watercolor paint and brushes needed. You drew a wolf poster for Changkyun for his birthday coming up but he didn’t know that. You were an art student at university so he assumed this was just as a small side project or assignment of school, thinking nothing too big of it. “What time is it?” You realized the two of you woke up rather late and left later. The mall seemed empty even though it was the weekend. 

“It’s.” The two of you paused in your tracks as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. “Shoot, my phone’s dead,” he sighed. “I forgot to charge it after last night..” He recalled to yesterday evening, you spent the night with the boys at the dorm. The eight of you had put on your onesies, yours being a fox. How you were able to convince the boys to do it through they had a long practice earlier that day, you didn’t know yourself. Hyunwoo had called and ordered shaved ice to be delivered to their dorms, beginning the most fun night they had aside from their concerts. Music was blasting through their dorms along with small disco-strobe lights. All of you had danced around the dorm in animal onesies, eating shaved ice; life was good, simple, there were no pressures of perfect idols looming over them or the pressure of being successful after university crushing you. 

“Do you wanna go back to the dorms so you can charge your phone?” You looked up into his dark brown eyes. You were down with anything so you didn’t mind greatly if you guys had to leave at this moment. You would have to go out on your own to get your materials. 

“No, it’s okay. We just got here. We’ll just have to stick even closer,” he teased, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, squeezing you closer to him. “Let’s wander!” You two walked down and through the line of stores, trying on clothes and making each other laugh by finding the most ridiculous articles of clothing, making the other wear it. It was almost like a competition to see who could make the other look the worst. There were no limits; you even made Changkyun put on a bra and dress with high heels. He got his revenge, however, picking out the most cringey motif-quoted shirts and the most ridiculous shorts or skirt, or whatever it was. The two of you did buy clothes from the actual stores though so it didn’t seem you two were shoplifting or anything (this is an actual thing I feel when I go into a store and don’t buy anything asdlkdaslj) Changkyun and you had bought some clothes from hoodies and shirts from M&H, some summer clothes from Forever 22, and more. Time had gone by, slowly beginning to get late, getting closer to closing time. Since it was the weekend, the mall closed earlier than weekdays. The two of you had walked through all three levels of the mall, even stopping in the food court for milkshakes.

“Oo, the art store!” Changkyun adored seeing your eyes literally light up when you saw something or you were doing something you were enjoying. He smiled feeling your hand squeezing against his as you began pulling him towards the large art store. It was like heaven for you; you could spend hours wandering through every aisle, finding something that intrigued you. Changkyun once even had to take you away since you almost blew all your money on the things you wanted. He told the members many funny and interesting adventures of following you through the art store; how you spent almost an entire hour in one single-aisle; the drawing supplies. The long aisle was filled with sketchbooks of numerous variations, watercolor, sketching, coloring, as well as materials needed from color pencils to sketching pencils and special kneading erasers (which aren’t the best tbh but that’s just me). 

“Wait, I’m going to use the bathroom.” Changkyun walked toward the bathroom to the left of the entrance of the store. “I’ll be right back.” He walked off towards the bathroom, leaving you there. You stood outside, sipping on the last bit of your milkshake, looking around, anticipating when he would come back until there you saw it. You walked directly towards your favorite aisle; the art and sketch aisle. You had coupons on your phone since you were a member, but there was an all store discount, making this the best day, and the best haul you will ever have. You grabbed an empty basket and began putting things into your basket, wandering deeper and deeper into the store, completely forgetting about Changkyun’s absence. Your basket slowly became fuller and fuller as you walked, roaming with your eyes wide, scanning at anything and everything that caught your eye. You made a mental note to come back next time in the future to get this brand of something than that, remembering to find a coupon for another thing so you could try a new project in the future. You now stood at the farthest corner of the large store, looking at yarns, contemplating making one since the old ones you made were fraying. Plus, you hadn’t knitted in a while so it’d be fun. Your happiness and focus on the yarns you were contemplating buying was interrupted by an announcement over the PA system. 

Changkyun emerged from the bathroom after a minute or two with his hands in hand. He looked around to where he saw you last, to a somewhat surprise, seeing you gone. He sighed, resting his hands on his hips. “What am I going to do with them?” He chuckled to himself as he began walking past aisles, scanning down them for your presence. He began to see why you liked the art store so much considering if he were you, he would spend hours here as well. Peculiar trinkets and art supplies caught his eye, some being so weirdly shaped, he questioned their purpose. He began to walk down the row of aisles a bit faster until he realized he was at the end. “How did they move so fast? Where did they go?” He was now slightly concerned. Knowing you, your mind would be completely blank in here, except for your list of buying things.

After walking past the tall aisles filled with art supplies, he walked towards the front of the registers. “There’s only one thing left I can do..” He sighed, knowing he was going to be slightly embarrassed. As he approached a closed register, a large metal bin of large stuffed animals caught his eye. “Oo, I’ll take you,” his voice was playful as he picked out his champion out of the various animals. He made his way to the register to ask his request and pay, making the lady open her lane. 

“Would Y/N Y/L/N, please report to register 10 to pick up your child.” A lady over the speakers called you, confusing you. You couldn’t choose just one and chose both yarns, tossing them into your now mostly full basket.

“Child?” Confusion washed over you as you began walking towards the entrance of the store where the registers were. You walked past more things, slowing down to stop and look again, but you had to restrict yourself. “Next time..” It pained you to turn away from something that just looked so interesting to you. You wanted to have it yourself to try to make something out of it, though what you had in your basket was enough, more than enough. 

Changkyun watched in amusement, but content as you began to walk towards him with confusion plastered on your face, but you, of course, didn’t see him due to his friend. He bit his lip, trying not to confront you, not yet. “Keep it together...” he told himself.

You arrived towards register 10, almost all the other register lanes completely empty since it was near closing time. You approached the lady at the register with your basket and began putting your items on the conveyor belt. “My child?” You tilted your head to the side, watching her as she continued scanning. The taller and older employee glanced toward the bench against the wall. 

“Your baby!” Changkyun sat on the bench, pouting as he pressed his face into a large white seal stuffed animal. “OHHHHHH That CHILD!” You yelled in your head. Your mouth created an ‘O’ shape as you approached Changkyun. “Kyun, I’m so sorry, oh my gosh. I’m so sorry!” You repeatedly pressed kisses on his face as you stood between his separated legs as he continued to hold the large stuffed animal. 

He pouted, the corners of his lips pointed downwards as his lower lip was pushed out. He seemed not too pleased despite your apologies, but deep down you knew he wasn’t truly mad at you. “I bought myself a friend since you abandoned me..” He shook his head as he glanced from you to his new friend.

You smiled as you looked down at him. You held his face in your hands, pushing his cheeks together and making him look chubby with cuteness. “I’m sorry Changkyun. Will you please forgive me?” You knelt down, looking into his eyes. You folded your hands together, giving your own puppy eyes towards him which was his kryptonite. 

He felt his heart beating faster and melting all at once, staring into your eyes. He drew his lips into a straight line, looking back to his new soft friend. “Do you think we can forgive them?” He then brought the stuffed animal to his ear as if it was really talking to him. “We’ll forgive you, but we demand more kisses.” 

“Of course, I’m sorry.” You stood up, holding his face once again before you pressed your lips against his. 

He could feel you smiling against his lips, making him smile until he remembered where you two were. He broke the kiss, his cheeks slightly red. “Go pay, let’s go back to the dorm..” He quirked, raising an eyebrow and winking at you. 

You watched him as you now stood at the register, heat rising to your face by the second. You bit your lower lip, containing your laughter. You paid, leaving hand in hand with him, beginning to go home for what you assumed an adventure Changkyun had in mind.

~~~~~

Masterlist for more!

[ilytuan]

Warmth 「yugyeom」

genre ›  fluff ︱ domestic boyfriend!au

pairing › reader ︱ yugyeom

word count ›  2,034

warning › none

synopsis › #NoOneElseButYugyeomDay

Yugyeom rubbed his tired eyes, trying to rid any traces of sleep from his face that was unwashed and long due for a shave. He blinked at your message, wondering if there was any hidden meaning behind it. Was today a special day?

He scratched his already dishevelled hair, messing it up further as he tried to think of any important dates or anniversaries with you. None. He brushed it off, maybe you just had innocent intentions and missed him? The more he thought about it, he realised he missed you too and he tried to remember when the last time he saw you was. A month ago? Or maybe even longer.

The message you sent him asking to go on a date had come from nowhere, and Yugyeom knew you were away on a trip with your friends from college at the moment, so he wondered where you found the time to be able to hang out with him. Even though you were dating, you almost never spent much time out on dates. There weren’t many chances for you two to hang out, so he wasn’t going to turn down the date by any means, but he was slightly sceptical of what you had planned. The fact that it was his birthday completely slipped his mind as he began to make himself presentable enough to go out.

A message tone broke his train of thought while he was brushing his teeth. He ignored it, figuring it was one of the members trying to bother him or ask him for a ride somewhere, but then another one came. And another. Until he finally grew frustrated and picked up his phone, ready to snap at whoever it was. He was just trying to brush his teeth peacefully.

It really was the members. What a coincidence, he thought as he rolled his eyes. Messages were flowing in rapidly and Yugyeom struggled to read them, since they were flying past his eyes right as he caught sight of them. They were spamming and screaming, exclamation marks and emojis being the only thing he caught sight of. None of it made sense to him, almost like they were talking gibberish, so he switched his phone off completely and continued brushing his teeth to get ready to see you. Today was for you and him only. Whatever the occasion.

Yugyeom drove his sleek, black car out to the nearby park where you were already waiting for him. The chilly air resulted in a large scarf being wrapped around you and winter coat over your outfit. You were wearing a skirt with thigh high socks though, obviously not cold enough to make you dress in anything else and when you had gotten a touch of the cold air on your way out, you wanted to run back in and change but Yugyeom had told you that he was already on his way, so you didn’t want to keep him waiting. The coat would have to do, you decided.

You were almost completely covered up, minus your shivering legs and your face which was barely visible behind all of the layers. Yugyeom would’ve completely missed you had it not been for the cute little wave you gave him. He would never miss your cute ministrations. It was how he met you in the first place, all those years ago in this exact park when he saw you feeding a squirrel and tending to a bird who’s wing had been damaged.

He quickly turned on the heater, warming up the car for you before you got in. Yugyeom was thick skinned and rarely got cold so he was only wearing a light jacket, but he knew you were easily affected by the cold weather hence your current get up. You blew warm air onto your hands, smoke puffing out around them, before you reached for the door handle. The tip of your nose and cheeks were tinted red, how cute, he thought.

When you were comfortably seated and with your seatbelt fastened, Yugyeom grasped one your cold hands and placed it on his lap, driving away from the park and off into the city while you gave him directions to the bakery. “Did you wait long?” He asked you when you were waiting for the traffic light to signal go.

You shook your head, removing the scarf from around your neck because it was getting warmer in the car thanks to Yugyeom’s blasting heater. If not for him, you’d be completely frozen by now. “I was in the neighbourhood.” He seemed to be puzzled by the fact, but it didn’t surprise you.

The trip away with college friends wasn’t a complete lie. You had planned to go, and you did. For the first day. But after you took a dip in the nearby lake for a dare, you had fallen ill and spent the day getting an IV drip at the hospital for early symptoms of hypothermia. Fun.

Then you spent the next day wrapped up in blankets, with hot tea around the fire, as recommended by the doctor, and tried to come up with a plan for Yugyeom’s birthday. It had been awhile since you spent time with him, so you wanted it to be special. You could have told him, but it was useless as he would only worry and fuss over you. He was busy enough.

You actually lived quite a distance away from Yugyeom too, which was part of the reason why dates were rare and probably why he was being sceptical about your meeting place, but he’d find out in no time with the day you had in store for him. It wasn’t a lie that you were in the neighbourhood, but it was a surprise, so you kept your mouth closed and gave him no hints.

“So, birthday boy. Anyone spoil you with gifts and love yet, or am I the first?” He gave you a quizzical look and you laughed at the sight of pure confusion that was painted on his face, his eyebrows furrowed together, trying to piece it all together.

His face stilled and paled as he remembered the messages from the members. He was going to get his ass bet as soon as they see him tomorrow. They were birthday wishes to him and more than likely offers to go out to eat together and also the reason why you were going out with him today. He slammed his head on the steering wheel when he rolled to a stop at a red light, groaning in pain afterwards and rubbing his forehead. The members were going to think he was being bratty and ignoring them. He was literally doomed.  

You giggled quietly to yourself, knowing the antics of his members very well. Jinyoung and Jaebum especially since they frequently volunteered at the veterinary where you worked. It was near the park but quite the commute to your house as you lived in a suburban area.

The way they treated and took care of all the animals were quite the contrast to how they treated Yugyeom, but you could still feel a sense of love behind their actions. And it was unbelievably funny whenever they made fun of him. He was teased relentlessly when he first brought you to meet them, and they never let him live down the fact that he split the entire dish of spaghetti because you laughed at his mismatched socks. That was funny.

“Y/n! How stupid am I? I forgot my own birthday! Of all days!” He groaned again, repeating the same stupid mistake from earlier and slamming his forehead down on the steering wheel. He whined in pain and you rubbed the red spot soothingly, still giggling at him.

When you arrived at the destination, Yugyeom scrambled to turn his phone on and check all their 320 messages. He was dead meat.

‘Yah, you punk. You’re ignoring us?’ was sent from Jackson, along with multiple other angry face emojis of him exclaiming he won’t ever buy meat for him again. Always the dramatic one.

‘We practically raised you, and you dare ignore us on your birthday? We ought to slap some sense into you, brat.’ Obviously came from Jinyoung. Yugyeom quickly shot them a sheepish smile emoji and switched off his phone, not wanting to read the influx of texts that would surely come in the next few seconds, no doubt telling him off again.

He pulled you out of the car, momentarily forgetting about the cold weather and making you scramble to put the scarf back on. It was absolutely freezing today. The skirt was such a bad idea and making Yugyeom wait a few extra minutes wouldn’t have been a big deal when he would be in his warm car the whole time anyway. You were literally making yourself sick all over again. Guess both of you were quite the fools today. What a pair.

You swung his hand in yours, trying to take his mind off it all and just have a good day. His hand kept yours warm too. It always baffled you how he never got cold.

Popping into the bakery, you quickly picked up the cake you had ordered and grabbed Yugyeom’s hand again, making your way to the train station. Out of nowhere, rain started to pour and Yugyeom’s grasp on your hand tightened, beginning to run with you in tow to a place with shelter. The heels and skirt you wore slowed both of you down drastically, and by the time you reached shelter, you were almost completely soaked from head to toe and you felt even colder than before. How is that even possible?

Shaking like a leaf, Yugyeom removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, “stay here, I’ll go get an umbrella from the car.” You refused to be left alone though, so you both stayed under the flimsy plastic roof instead, waiting for the rain to pass. But just to your luck, gusts of wind were added instead of it stopping and Yugyeom sighed exasperatedly. He was only wearing a shirt. His birthday was not going well so far.

“I know you have a lot planned, but how nice does cuddling and movie sound?” He turned to look at you, concern in his eyes at your shivering state. He probably would have dragged you home even if you refused at this rate. His offer did sound tempting though; a warm bath and cuddles was just what you needed right now. “You have a bath, right?” When he gave you confirmation, you took a deep breath and grabbed his hand, running in the direction you had just come from. So much for a perfect day out together.

Snuggling up to Yugyeom’s side, you sighed in relief when your shivering finally subsided. The bath had soothed your nerves and pushed the hypothermia away, thankfully. You figured the Gods didn’t hate you so much as to completely ruin your day. Yugyeom wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap and letting you cuddle into his warm chest.

Your date may have been ruined, but you would much rather be warm and happy in Yugyeom’s arms, than cold and grumpy in nature’s wrath. And at least you still had a cake to munch on together. It wasn’t too bad and both of you were content with being like this. As long as you were together, what you were doing didn’t matter much. But you did feel sorry for not doing something more special for his birthday. Yugyeom didn’t let you dwell on it for long though, blowing out the candles on the cake and making a wish.

It wasn’t much but being with you made Yugyeom happier than anything else could. He had you in his arms, warmth and happiness surrounding the two of you as the movie played in the background and tasting the sweet cake on his tongue. Yugyeom decided simplicity was best and curled up into the bed, taking you with him. This was all he truly needed to feel happy and he couldn’t wait to spend another year with you like this.