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221bshrlocked · 4 years ago

Text

Fever in my Eyes

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Words: 8.5K (yeesh)

Warnings: Smut and Angst, my two faves. Blindfold. Breeding Kink!!! Things are consensual from both sides but since this is a sex pollen fic, some of you might consider it as non/con so please proceed with caution.

Summary: Felucia was not an ideal planet to track a quarry on and you find yourself in a sticky situation when you lose sight of the Mandalorian for a moment. An unexpected standoff between Mando and the bounty leads to you escaping back to the Razor Crest, unaware of the pollen which seeped into your nostrils and past your skin. What will the bounty hunter do once he realizes what you’re asking of him? And more importantly, is it worth risking whatever relationship he has with you?

A/N: As always, I am shit with summaries. It’s a sex pollen fic yall. I apologize if my smut isn’t as good as it used to be, I am trying. Also, please please please let me know how I did in the comments. This is only my second ever Star Wars fic and I was very reluctant to post it but Pedro Pascal made me do it because I cannot stop thinking of the man so here it is. Seriously, tell me how I did and what I can do to better my writing. There will be more Din Djarin fics to come :) Enjoy. And this is not beta’d!

This was not an ideal situation, but it never was. At least not ever since you took the ‘glorified babysitter’ position offered so graciously to you months ago. A short snort made its way past your lips as you walked through the greenery and recalled how you came into caring for the child currently biting and playing with your necklace. You looked down and smiled at him, not bothering to stop him from chewing down on the colorful jewels because you knew for a fact that if Mando heard you criticizing him over something so trivial, he might scold him and make him pout. Maker, the little womp rat made it so hard to be angry with him, let alone attempt to teach him some proper manners.

So busy playing with the Child, you didn’t notice when the bounty hunter suddenly came to a halt ahead of you. You walked right into his back and stumbled backwards, apologizing immediately when he turned around and tilted his visor to the side. You’ve grown to learn what each tild meant and at the moment, he was definitely a tad bit annoyed with you.

“S-sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Smiling awkwardly at the man in front of you, you waited until he turned around before narrowing your eyes at the kid currently giggling at your mistake. It was amazing how often he did that, almost as if he knew he was purposely getting you in trouble for his own entertainment.

“So you never actually told me why this bounty was so important,” your eyes searched your surroundings and marveled at the lush reaching all the way to the top of the strange trees, barely noticing the way the Mandalorian’s shoulders tensed before continuing to walk towards the edge of the forest. If there even was an edge to this jungle. Maker, this was such a weird planet, it smelled weird, it was too hot and too wet, and you sensed there was something strange with all the exotic plants beneath your feet.

When he didn’t respond, you slowly put the Child down and reached inside your satchel for a drink. As soon as the kid noticed the satchel, he waddled back to you and pulled on your cloak until you brought out his favorite blue biscuits.

“All I’m saying is, this bounty is weird. Who hides all the way out here anyways? I mean I have never heard of this place-”

“You’ve said that about the last four quarries.” You didn’t expect him to respond and eyed him cautiously, looking between him and the kid who continued to eat his snacks and understood absolutely nothing of what you were saying. A shiver ran down your spine when you noticed the way he put the tracking fob back in his pocket before slowly reaching for the blaster pistol. Reflexes instantly kicking in, you hurried to the Child and snatched him off the ground, shushing his little coos and preparing for the worst case scenario which was always, somehow, what transpired.

Silence filled the humid air and you tried to read the bounty hunter’s body language, knowing very well he was not one to say anything unless it was perhaps a little too late for you. His visor dragged through the dried prints on the grass and before you knew it, he was taking off towards the edge of the purple and pink plants. As you followed him, you felt your throat dry much quicker than usual. Thinking it was just the extreme weather of Felucia, you decided it was best to slow down and wait until the Mandalorian caught the bounty before following his path. He’d even told you once to not follow him if you ever saw him running off because that usually meant he was close to the quarry and wouldn’t need your aid. It was a little insulting in the beginning but you were caught during a shoot-out one too many times and understood he was only trying to look out for you and the kid.

But not even a full minute passed before you heard a sudden blast sound off from the trees above you and before you could figure out what was happening, a heavy weight landed on top of you, and you watched in horror as the kid flew out of your hand into a nearby puddle.

Trying your hardest to grab the blaster on your hip, you cried out in pain when you felt talons digging into your arms and twist them back. You didn’t know what else to do, eyes scanning the trees in hopes of finding the Mandalorian rushing towards you. But when you realized he was nowhere around, you looked at the kid and prayed he was alright. When you saw his large eyes blinking a few times before struggling to sit up, you knew there was only one outcome.

“Make a sound, and I will feast on your organs.” The stench of the creature filled your nostrils and you sobbed quietly at the implications behind his words. Taking one last look at the kid, you took a deep breath and pushed off the ground as hard as you can.

“MANDO!” As soon as you screamed his name, you felt three talons break the skin of your shoulder blades and drag all the way down to your lower back. You felt hot tears roll down your cheeks and hated how distressed the Child looked. Almost on queue, he was standing up and trying to waddle your way, refusing to listen to your little objections as you tried to tell him to run the opposite direction.

Before you could dwell on the many different ways you were about to die, you heard a large blast sound through the forest, throwing the creature off of you against one of the trees with a loud cracking noise. You looked up just in time to see the familiar glint of beskar coming closer through the greenery and as you tried to stand up, you felt the same weight behind you again, twisting the talons into your hair and pulling you to your feet.

You swallowed the lump in your throat when you felt the edge of the hunting knife against your throat. Eyes unable to focus on the figures in front of you, you blinked a few times and realized there were too many sensations hitting you. But the one seemingly outdoing all the others was the growing wet patch on your back and you soon felt sharp pain growing against your skin where the strange liquid rolled down your skin. You weren’t sure if it was blood or if it was drool from the thing behind you and a part of you didn’t care because what difference would it make.

“Should have known you were the only crazy one to come here...come after me.” A slithering whisper made its way past your ears and your knees buckled as you started to feel faint. But then the creature held you up roughly and pressed the knife harder against your throat, warning you against falling to the ground.

“Your problem is with me T'doshok. Let her go.” You vaguely saw the Child walk towards his father, relief washing over you when you knew he was safe once more. At some point, you’ve come to care more for him than for yourself and you were never sure if it was because he was so precious or because of how important he was to the Mandalorian.

“Aren’t we past formalities Mando? At least do me the honor of saying my name...old friend.”

Your gaze immediately shifted from the kid to the beskar-clad man standing in front of him. So they knew each other? Why didn’t he tell you? Did he still not trust you to know such matters until now?

“ Ni Kelir kyr'amur gar meh gar vaabir not ba'slanar kaysh.” You heard the Mandalorian growl through the visor and even though you didn’t understand what he said, you knew it was anything but friendly. Wait, that meant the T'doshok behind you understood Manod’a.

A sob escaped your throat when you felt the bounty laugh behind you at the warning.

“You can’t possibly mean that Mando.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was a hint of surprise etched in the voice growling in your ear.

“Ni vaabir not baatir te waadas...believe me.” The conscious part of your brain wondered why he continued to speak in Mando’a. He knew you didn’t understand much of it…

The silence was almost deafening and you weren’t sure what was happening until your boss stepped forward and tilted his helmet to the side,

“Gedet'ye.” The modulated voice sounded strange to your ears. He was only ever this softly-spoken with the Child.

“Well, this is unexpected. In that case-” You didn’t have time to react, watching as the world twirled around you before you fell among the purple and pink flowers you were so impressed by earlier. A strange scent hit your nostrils but you couldn’t dwell on it for more than a few seconds. Willing yourself to stand up, you pushed off the ground as soon as you saw the kid waddling towards you. As soon as he tried to walk behind you, you knew what he was trying to do and picked him up before he could do anything.

“No little guy...you- I can’t...I need to make sure you’re okay.” You could faintly hear the sound of blasters going off for a few moments and by the time you managed to take the gun out of your holster, you saw the Mandalorian standing above an unconscious reptilian creature. So that’s what a T'doshok is…

Slowly making your way towards them, you blinked away the tears and wiped your eyes to try and clear your sight.

“Ad'ika, are you alright?” You shivered at the tone Mando was using with you. Dank Ferrik, you must have hit your head pretty hard if you thought the Mandalorian was worried about anyone but the green little thing in your arms.

“I- yes. I’ll be f-fine. Just-” You hadn’t meant to react the way you have but as soon as you felt his gloved hand touch your neck, you jerked away from him and held out your hand to stop him from coming any closer to you. Mando was shocked at your reaction and was glad to have something to hide behind. A few seconds passed in silence and you were still staring at him with wide open eyes and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were afraid of him. It occurred to him that it wasn’t shock that beat at his heart but a deep and twisting sense of hurt. And when he scanned your body language, he could tell you were trembling in front of him and the last thing he wanted to do was to give you another reason to fear him.

“Can you walk back to the-”

“Yes. I’ll- fu...I’ll take the kid.” Before he could say anything else, you were clutching the Child closer to your chest and walking back to the Razor Crest. You searched your mind to try and understand why you reacted the way you have to his touch but couldn’t find anything to explain the sharp pain striking through your insides. It was too much too quickly. Even though it wasn’t his skin, you felt neurons firing simultaneously as soon as he trailed his fingers down your neck. You hoped to the gods he wasn’t offended by your reaction because the last thing you needed was to drive him further away from you.

Barely making it back to the ship, you managed to go up the ladder and put the Child back in his crib in the cockpit before shutting it and locking the door behind you. Scrambling inside your mind for a moment, you turned to the ramp and walked towards the hatch before pushing in the code until it sealed shut.

In an instant, everything touching your skin was too rough and incredibly heavy. Before you could think twice about it, you were violently stripping out of your clothes, throwing them to the ground on your way to the refresher. As soon as you walked into the small room, you turned on the cold water and sighed heavily as it beat down on your heated skin.

“Not enough…” Crying to the empty room, you made sure the hot water wasn’t on before leaning back against the cool tiles of the walls. But no sooner than that were you hissing and pushing off of the wall. You completely forgot about the open gashes on your back and the shooting pain was almost instantaneous when you remembered just how large the wound was.

As you dwelled on the last hour or so, you felt your legs give out on you and before you knew it, you were sliding down to the floor. Eyes shutting slowly, you fell to the side and let the cold water run down your form. And as hard as you tried to stay awake, you couldn’t help your mind’s request as it begged to rest. You let sleep wash over you, the last sound ringing in your ear was Mando’s worried voice asking if you were okay.

Back outside, the bounty hunter was fuming with anger, not caring about how oddly violent he became with the quarry. He was never one to beat an unconscious being but something took over him when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks. As he pushed his way through the forest, he thought back to the way you looked up at him with those innocent eyes. And he hated himself for the way his body reacted to your fragile body.

“Ni’duraa.” He whispered to himself when he saw the Crest come into view, continuing to pull the T'doshok until he walked up the ramp and onto the ship. It was awfully quiet but he decided to freeze the reptile before he walked around to look for you. Minutes later, he was ascending the ladder to the cockpit, unlocking it and reaching for the crib on his pilot chair. When he opened it and saw the kid cooing in his sleep, he shut it once more and left to look for you. It was strange how he couldn’t hear a single sound. You were normally talkative after a mission, and as he placed his weapons back on the wall, he noticed your clothes lying haphazardly on the ground. Mando sighed heavily as he picked them up, flushing violently when he saw the last two items leading into the refresher. Strange, you were never one to throw things around.

Not wanting to bother you anymore, he placed the clothes on your cot and ascended to the cockpit once more, wanting to leave Felucia as quickly as possible because he knew how the locals became when uninvited guests stayed for too long. As they left the sector, the Mandalorian couldn’t help but question why you were still in the refresher. You’d arrived long before him and it took him a while to navigate through the jungle because of how heavy the bounty was.

Putting the ship on auto-pilot, he made his way to the refresher but not before noticing a strange scent fill his nostrils. Looking down at his hands, he noticed a bright purple powder covering his gloves and as soon as he brought his hands up to the edge of the visor, he was hit with many different sensations, all of which he could distinctively place back to you. Your honey-scented soap, the orange tea he saw you constantly drinking, the smell of your sweat on a particularly hot day when you tried to fix the ship...

“Fuck…” He swore before wiping his gloves against his cloak and approached the refresher.

Knocking on the door, he waited a few moments for a response and breathed impatiently when you didn’t bother to say anything.

“Open up, Cyar'ika.” He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly using such endearing words to call for you and when he was met with more silence, he groaned in annoyance before warning you. “If you don’t open the door now, I will break it.” Normally, you would have clapped back with a snarky comment that would get his blood boiling but he knew something was wrong when you remained quiet. Throwing propriety out the window, he kicked the door open and walked in, eyes searching the small room until they fell on your unconscious form under the water.

“Maker,” kneeling to the ground, his heart clenched when he saw a viscous, black liquid oozing out of the gash on your back. How did he not notice this when you left? Quickly reaching for the left knob, he swore when he noticed the hot water wasn’t even on and almost broke the other one as he tried to switch it off. Why would you take such a cold shower when you weren’t even on a desert planet? Wiping your hair away from your face, the Mandalorian tried to wake you and began to feel anxiety seep into his clothes along with the water cascading down your body when he realized this was much worse than he thought. He took off his gloves and pushed you onto your back, trying his hardest to avert his gaze from your naked skin as he bent down and carried you out of the refresher.

Opening his quarters, he laid you on his covers before grabbing the anesthetic above him and turning you on your stomach to care for the wounds. As he sprayed your back, he noticed the way you groaned in your sleep and forced himself to attend to the task at hand. He hoped to the gods there wasn’t any poison in the wound before he grabbed the bacta spray and slowly made his way down the skin of your back. He sighed in relief when he noticed your skin slowly shifting and sealing itself, trying to calm his increasing heart rate when he remembered just how fragile and naked you were beneath him. Some sick part of him was attracted to you even in such a state and he wished more than anything for you to be awake and willing to-

This is not how he pictured seeing you for the first time.

When you started shifting beneath him, he kneeled away from you and covered your legs, continuing to care for the wound on your lower back until it started to close as well. By the time he put all the medication back in its place, you were turning around and moaning in discomfort and Mando realized it was because you were probably still freezing from the cold water. Taking off his cloak, he barely draped it on your sleeping form when you pushed it off and turned on your back. He felt the fabric of his pants tighten around his crotch and looked away from you.

“Please...too- too much. I can’t-” He couldn’t understand what you were trying to say and moved to place the cloak on you again, head instantly turning to your face when you smacked the offensive object away from him and began to trail your fingers down your skin. He hadn’t meant to and before he could stop himself, he was watching as your fingers made their way down to your hips before dipping into the space between your thighs.

Maker be damned, how were you so glistening and flushed?

“M-Mando?” His eyes snapped to your face and watched as you spread your legs until he positioned between them. “Mando I need...you. I need you please, this is- it hurts. I can’t...it hurts so much. Please h-help me.” Your voice was filled with dangerous requests, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants when he saw the way you reached for his thighs and dragged your nails down to his knees.

“Cyare, you don’t know what you’re asking.” He forced himself to keep his gaze on your face and nowhere else. But with every passing moment, the need to look at where he’d dreamt of feasting on for so many nights outgrew his respect for you.

“Mando...I want you, n-need you...please, I promise I’ll be good. So so good for you, just- oh maker I-”

The small part of his brain that wasn’t ruled by his pulsing cock finally figured out what was happening and he growled as he pushed off of you and out to your cot. Grabbing your shirt, he turned it around and saw the same purple powder that was on his gloves coloring the whole front of your cloak. He recalled back to what happened when he left you and remembered where the T'doshok pushed you before he attacked him.

Of course. The pollen from the spore plants.

Which meant that-

“Oh fuck.” The Mandalorian felt his insides churn when he realized what was taking place not ten feet away from him, and he felt his heart skip a beat when he knew what could potentially happen to you if your...needs weren't properly met. With reluctance, he made his way back to his sleeping cot and felt his chest tighten when he saw what you were doing.

You were on your side, fingers rubbing furiously at your soaking core and whimpering at the consistent and harsh touches passing through your nerves. But it wasn’t the mess you were making that caught his attention. No, it was the fact that you had his cowl twisted between your thighs and around your back. He watched in awe as you pushed your face into the rough material, taking in deep breaths to try and fill your nostrils with his scent. Taking one step closer to you, his eyes bore into your heated skin and he choked on air when he saw you lick at the hood of the cloak before taking your fingers out of your cunt and replacing them with his cowl. He couldn’t believe his eyes and the thought of wearing it around with your scent sticking to it broke him.

Mando looked around the ship for a few moments in an attempt to think of what he should do. Swallowing the dry lump in his throat, he approached your slowly and gasped when he met your eyes and saw the way you were looking at him.

“M-mando! Please...fuck me. I- I need you to...don’t c-care how. I promise I’ll do anything, wh-whatever you want...ple-please.” Chills ran down your spine when you forced yourself to throw the cowl away. Turning around, you laid on your stomach and took a deep breath before raising your lower half off of the covers. As you rested your head on your arm and bit into your wrist, you looked back to the beskar-clad man, silently pleading with him while swaying your ass in the air.

“Gota'la…” Before the Mandalorian could talk himself out of it, he was kicking his heavy shoes away and making his way closer to you. A part of him screamed that of the two of you, he was the one less affected by the pollen and was technically responsible for whatever transpired next. And he was close to asking you if you were sure you wanted to take this further if it weren’t for the way you reached beneath you and faintly trailed your fingers through your soaking slit.

“Ad'ika, gar cuyir mesh'la.” He was speaking to himself more than to you and smiled to himself when he noticed your cunt clenching around nothing as soon as his words filled the silence. “Sweet girl, you like it when I speak to you in Mando’a?” You shivered at his tone and found it difficult to respond to him, especially when you could tell he was definitely not looking at you but at the mess you were making on his bed. A loud cry rang through the small room when you felt his hand come down on your backside before squeezing the flushed skin.

“I asked you a question Cyar'ika.” His deep and modulated voice only made it worse and you found yourself nodding at him before whispering out a low ‘yes.’

“K'olar,” you squealed when you felt Mando twirl your around onto your back before pulling your naked body flush to his still-clothed one. You were about to beg him to just fuck you already when he shoved two of his fingers into your mouth to shush you. You moaned shamelessly around his fingers, whining even louder when you realized you were sucking on his calloused skin and not on the gloves he almost never took off unless he was alone.

“You’re going to come just like this sweet girl.” Mando manhandled you until you were straddling one of his thighs, growling impatiently when you tried to push yourself away from him. His arm tightened around your waist, pushing you down on the beskar cuisse until you finally understood what he wanted from you.

“C-cold…”

“Be a good girl and drench my armor little one. Let me walk around with the memory of your cunt dripping on me.” His words hit too close to your somewhat aware mind and you chose to dwell on their meaning later. Softly inching your hands onto his shoulders, you fisted your fingers into his shirt to support your weight before dragging yourself against the rugged and cool beskar in between your thighs. As you threw your head back and sighed in pleasure, Mando couldn’t help but squeeze the heated skin of your hip, knowing very well there would soon be fingerprint marks wherever he touched you.

“That’s it...could smell how much you want me Cyare. Can’t believe you’re in my arms...look at you, using my thighs to get off.” You barely managed to turn your attention to him, lips still enclosed around his fingers and biting down on them the more he shoved them in your mouth.

“Mando I- I need to-” Before you could finish your request, Mando was wrapping the other arm around hips and violently dragging you against his cuisse, looking down to watch as your juices dripped on his beskar armor.

“What a sight…” He groaned and turned his gaze towards you again just in time to watch you fall apart on him. He marveled at how quickly he brought you to pleasure and figured it must have been the pollen making you extra sensitive to his ministrations. Wanting to stretch out your pleasure for as long as possible, he threw you back onto his bed and pushed your thighs open, not giving you a chance to question him as he shoved two fingers into your cunt and massaged that spongy spot deep inside you. You arched your back and grasped at his arms, barely managing to look at the visor just as he increased pressure and fucked you with his fingers.

“M-MANdo oh g-gods-”

“Scream my name sweet girl, and only my name.” Had you actually listened to what he said, you would have sassed back at him and told him you didn’t actually know his name. But you couldn’t care less at the moment, digging your fingers into his forearms as you came around his thick fingers, repeatedly praying his “name” until you couldn’t remember anything else.

“Mesh'la...you’re so tight and warm for me...that’s it, squeeze my fingers like the good little girl you are.” Mando watched as you came around his fingers, his eyes not knowing where to look and wishing he could taste the sweat sticking on your neck as you whimpered beneath him.

He heard it before he felt it, moaning in blind lust as he took in the sight beneath him. Your legs shook violently as you, quite literally, drenched his thighs and blankets with your cum and Mando didn’t know if he wanted to lick you dry or stuff his nose into your pulsating cunt.

“Sweet fucking darling, look at the mess you’ve made,” you shivered when you felt his fingers leave your slit, blinking hazily and turning to look at where he was staring. When you saw what he was referring to, you quickly covered yourself and tried to move away from him, embarrassment washing over you when you saw the way he was so obviously staring at the wetness dripping down your. But Mando was much quicker than you, grabbing your thighs and pushing them wide open again before laying in between them and dragging his crotch across your sensitive clit.

“Never hide from me,” you nodded instantly and the Mandalorian would never admit feeling his chest fill with pride at the lust-filled fear he instilled into you with only a few words. Your chest heaved as you continued to look into the visor, almost whimpering when you were met with incredibly dazed eyes and messy hair staring right back at you. It was quiet for a few moments, the only proof that Mando was very much aware of your state being the hardness twitching against your sensitive cunt.

Mando wasn’t sure what to do with you. He wanted to simultaneously fuck you into the next system and lick every inch of you until you couldn’t take it anymore. “I can smell your cunt Ad'ika...can almost taste your neediness.”

“Ma-mando I- I want you to r-” You felt so naked beneath him, wishing he’d at least take off his clothes before this went any further. Not a single care was given to his helmet and it was out of the question to even attempt and ask him if he could take it off. You just wanted to feel his skin sliding against yours as he fucked you. Nothing else mattered. Just his scarred and sweaty muscles contracting and trailing over your own.

“What is it sweet girl?” His voice felt like a thousand needles piercing your soul and you didn’t realize where your hands were moving until you felt him roughly grab your wrists and slam them above your head. You could tell there was a shift in the air around you and ceased to breathe when you no longer heard his moans.

“This is the way.” Those four words hurt you more than they should have.

“I- I would never ask you to...I swear I just wanted- I wanted to touch you. Not take it off...please I-” Mando felt his heart shatter into a million pieces because somehow, even in your most inebriated state, you respected him. You put him before yourself. And he ceased to breathe when he sat up and watched as you grabbed at his arms and refused to let go.

“N-no don’t go...I need you- d-don’t leave me pl-” Your breathing was erratic and the Mandalorian feared you’d spiral into shock. Without thinking much of his next moves, he grabbed the nearest item of clothing and ripped a small piece of it, returning to rest between your knees and not giving you a choice as he wrapped the band around your eyes and tied it in the back. You trailed your fingers over the band and pulled away instantly when you felt his the hair on his wrist.

“I’m sorry…” Mando thought of your actions so far and knew in his heart that if there was ever another who’d look upon him, it would be you. Softly taking your hands in his, he pulled them towards his helmet and rested them at the side.

“T-take it off.”

“I can’t...Mando, you don’t have to- I swear I was only-” As hard as it was to say those words, you wanted him to know that he owed you nothing. And you hated how selfish you were being in that moment because the man was trying to tell you something and you were only worrying about yourself and how much your cunt ached for him. You were so close to pushing him on his back and taking your pleasure from him but something told you it would be worth the wait.

“Mesh'la, I want you to.” You always marveled at how much the Mandalorian could convey in only a few words and shouldn’t have been surprised when you felt just how much he was willing to put his trust in you. Not wanting to scare him, you slowly pulled on the visor until it was completely off, remaining motionless as he took it from your hands and placed it on the floor. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with your hands so you kept them to the side, fisting your fingers into the blankets to prevent you from reaching out and touching his face.

Mando could tell you wanted to touch him. You even told him yourself. So he made the decision for you and leaned down, passing his lips over your forehead and smiling down at you when he heard you suck in a breath. You gasped when you felt his beard tickle your cheeks. He had a beard. Of course he had a beard. But as he continued to leave kisses over your face, you realized it wasn’t really a full-grown beard. It didn’t matter in the end because he was driving you insane with every small pass of his plump lips near where you wanted him.

As he finally molded his lips with yours, you felt him pull your hands up to his face and lay them on his cheeks, the groan escaping his throat letting you know he enjoyed you touching him as much as you, perhaps even more. The kiss grew frantic the more you explored his naked skin, and you couldn’t hold back the long moan that erupted into his mouth as soon as you felt him suck on your tongue. When you pulled on his soft hair, Mando couldn’t help but growl into the heated kiss, not caring for how rough he was being as he grabbed and squeezed your thighs.

But the kiss was over as soon as it began and you whined after him when you felt him pull away from you. You felt your fingers ascend to your face but remembered why the Mandalorian blindfolded you in the first place. Not wanting to lose his trust, you pushed your arms beneath your back to prevent any temptations from taking place. Unbeknownst to you, Mando was watching every little muscle twitch on your nude form and he almost devoured you right then and there when he saw you quickly moving your fingers from your face.

He was amazed by how caring you were even when you didn’t hold any proper level of the right consciousness. Anyone else would have removed the cloth and blamed the pollen. But not you.

You were special.

Refusing to waste any more time, Mando made quick work of the beskar armor, not caring about the mess he was making just outside his room. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, smiling when he noticed you shivering beneath his gaze. He was on you as soon as he deposited his long-sleeve and pants, devouring your mouth and digging his fingers into your waist as he rutted against you.

“Ner-”

The possessiveness was almost palpable and he surprised even himself at the single syllable. Since when was he like this?

“Mando,” you whispered his name as you wrapped your arms around his back and pulled him flush against you, sighing in relief when you felt the hair of his chest tickle your nipples. Mando noticed your reaction and instantly descended on your heaving chest, biting and licking and pinching at the hardened buds until you begged him to slow down.

“Ni'm liser't...taylir norac. You’re so fucking delicious.” The way he effortlessly switched between his mother tongue and Basic shouldn’t have turned you on this much and yet you were.

“Fuck me.” Your words were dripping with desperation and the Mandalorian wasn’t able to hold any longer. He wanted to take his time with you, commit every little curve to memory. Memorize what made your breath hitch and what made you sigh.

But the request ended all of his curiosity and before you knew it, you felt him roughly pull down on his boxer briefs. You flushed when you heard the sound of his hand jerking his cock, mouth falling wide open when it jutted at your inner thighs and you felt how fucking hard and thick it was.

“What will it be sweet girl? You want me to make love to you,” he paused for a moment and took advantage of your distracted expression, rubbing the head of his cock against your wet slit and biting his lips when he felt you arch against him at the simple yet filthy movement. “Or fuck you like I own you…like you’re mine.”

Hearing him say ‘fuck’ in such a vulgar tone did it for you and you didn’t know what to do with yourself except widen your legs more for him and grab the bed sheets beneath you.

“F-fuck me like you own me Mando...ruin me. Take what you want and- oh maker you’re so- so...fu- please, u-use me however you want. Just- I need your cock. Need to cum on your cock...can’t wait anym-”

Mando was sure he broke you with his words, watching in awe as you begged and begged until you couldn’t breathe anymore. There was no warning, no asking if you were ready for him. There was just your wet cunt teasing him until he couldn’t bear the thought of not being deep inside your pussy.

Resting his head against yours, he took his painfully hard cock in his hand and shoved it past your wet lips, letting out a deep growl as he felt you scratch his back.

“Mando, Mando, M-mando…”

You didn’t find the strength to think of a proper sentence to express what you were feeling so you opted to pray his name over and over again. He was shaking above you and you knew instantly he was trying his hardest not to break you.

“Take what you want- I...I won’t break.”

Just hearing you say those words to him almost made him cum right then and there. You were returning the trust he gave you and he knew there was no way of putting this moment behind him even if he tried.

Pulling out until only the head of his cock was splitting you open, Mando bucked his hips violently back into you, whispering the filthiest promises into your ears as he set a rough pace that had you seeing worlds you didn’t even know existed.

“So, fucking, tight...how are you so wet and tight for me Cyare?” It took you a while to realize you were hearing his voice without the modulator of his mask. How had you not noticed how beautifully sinful it was when he first took it off? You wanted to tell him how much you loved hearing his thick and smooth voice. You wanted to kiss down his neck and bite onto his shoulders. You wanted to push him down and force his cock inside your throat.

So much. You wanted so much.

But you couldn’t find your voice in that moment. Not when he was railing into you with such an unforgiving force.

“Made for me...made to take my cock. Such a sweet fucking girl- ah.” You should have known Mando would not be the quiet type in bed. He was a man of few words during his day-to-day life so of course he would take this chance and spill out his innermost thoughts. But it surprised you nonetheless considering how downright dirty his moans and whispers were. And you were sure he was as filthy, if not more, when he continued to speak in Mando’a.

With every passing moment, you felt a piece of your heart split from your chest and slowly make its way into his hands. He was branding you, his cock reaching so deep inside you that you were sure you could feel him right below your navel if you only moved your hands against your skin. But you couldn’t afford to let go of him, not when he was using you just as you requested.

“Mando you...maker, you’re filling me so- so good. I- please, can I cum? I want t- to cum. Been so good for you. Need to-” The chuckle that left his lips was sweet music to your ears until you realized he might be laughing at how pathetic you were.

“Fucking gods Ad'ika...fill you up? Is that what you want sweet girl? You want me to- fuck, fuck...want me to fill you up with my cum? You’re killing me baby.” His voice was hoarse and he realized his mistake as soon as the words left his lips. The last thing he wanted was to scare you away from him. It was his deeped, darkest secret. He swore he would go to his grave with it. Too often he thought of breeding you, fucking you and fill you up until his cum leaked out of you and you couldn’t move. Too many nights he went to sleep thinking of what it would feel like to wake up with your sweet cunt still wrapped around his cock. What he’d give to ensure not a single drop went to waste.

Too many days were spent dreaming of giving that little womp rat a sibling to run around with.

Your silence didn’t go unnoticed by him and he was about to slow down when he felt your hands grab his ass and push you closer to him.

“Want your cum Mando...want you to cum inside me, fill me up until I can’t breathe...oh fuck, until I can’t feel anything but your cum hot and deep inside me. Fuck a baby inside me Mando I- oh oh gods I-” Mando couldn’t hold back anymore, violently pushing his cock inside you and swallowing your moans every time they echoed just a little louder than he preferred. He groaned in ecstasy when he looked down and saw pure bliss etched on your soft features. You clenched around him, thighs vibrating around his hips as he somehow drove into you harder and carried you past the point of pleasure. You didn’t know you were coming around him until you heard him whisper ‘good girl’ in your ears. And it sent a jolt down his spine when he continued to rut against you and fill the ship with the heavy sounds of skin slapping on skin. It was almost painful, the way he didn’t let up and continued to rail into you without a single care.

“Mine...mine, fucking mine. That’s it sweet girl, feel me. Feel me marking your fucking soul.” He was a mumbling mess at this point and he wasn’t sure if it was because you were panting like an animal in heat or because of the way you desperately licked and kissed and nipped at his neck and lips.

“Yes, I’m yours Mando. Yours...always have been.”

The heaviness of your words struck his heart instantly, and he shoved his cock so deep inside you he swore he could feel your heartbeat. Mando rested his head in the crook of your neck, biting harder than intended on your shoulder as hot spurts of cum coated your inner walls. You feel a sudden warmth wash over you and dug your nails into his ass as he thrust once, twice, three times before stilling completely.

The two of you continued to breathe heavily against each other and when Mando moved his knees to get comfortable between your thighs, you unintentionally squeezed his cock and felt him twitch inside you.

“Ni chaabar gar, cyar'ika.” It was such a silent comment and you knew this was much different than everything he’d said thus far. Something about his tone told you he was spilling his heart out and you wished more than anything to ask him what he was saying but knew you shouldn’t...wouldn’t. Not unless you wanted him to continue and speak to you.

You were brought back from your thoughts when the Mandalorian kissed your lips, and you felt yourself drowning in his scent when he rubbed your hair and nudged your jaw with his nose.

“Gar cuyir too jaon'yc at ni. Ni liser't nibral gar.” Slowly, Mando wrapped his arms around you and rolled you over until you were practically sleeping on top of him. The two of you hissed when you felt his cock leave your heat and Mando wished more than anything to spread your thighs and watch as his cum leaked down your thighs. No worries, he’d do that later.

Later…

Oh what he would give for there to be a ‘later’ with you.

The thought of not being able to have you again snapped him back to reality and he realized there was a very high chance this would never happen again because as far as he knew, this was only a consequence of the pollen.

Not wanting to bother you with his insecurities, Mando pushed your head down onto his chest and rubbed your shoulders, telling you to get some rest and to not worry about anything else.

Hours later, Mando was waking up to a soft noise emitting from beneath him. As he rubbed his eyes and took in his surroundings, he looked down and noticed you were still very much naked and cold next to him. Pulling the covers over you, he allowed his eyes to feed on your curves before meeting your face. Dread filled his heart as soon as he saw the wet patch on the band around your eyes.

You must have woken up and realized what happened. A thousand different scenarios flew through his mind and Mando knew that almost each one of them was caused by your regret of sleeping with him.

“Ad'ika, are you alright?” When you didn’t respond and sniffed loudly, Mando knew he had to brace for the worst.

“Please...are you hurt anywhere?” Hearing his pleas was what did it for you and you threw yourself into his chest.

“Mando I- I took advantage of you. I’m so sorry, I- I didn’t know what was happening...I promise I- please don’t tell me to leave. I can’t leave you or the Child. I- I promise I’ll pretend this never happened. Just- don’t leave me. I can’t bear the thought of living without you...without him.”

Of all the things the Mandalorian thought he would hear from you, those were certainly the last to make the list. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky with you? Not only did you refuse to take the blindfold off when you woke up but you genuinely thought you’d forced him into sleeping with you.

“Cyare, it hurts to see you cry. Come here.” Mando sat up against the cold metal wall, pulling you into his lap and wrapping the covers around you so you weren’t exposed to the cold air of the ship.

“You didn’t take advantage of me sweet girl. If anything, I- I should be the one apologizing. I was not hit with the effects of the pollen as much as you have been and...and I should have refused your pleas. But you looked so beautiful, Cyar'ika. You prayed for me to have you and I- I was selfish. I was selfish and I couldn’t stop myself from sinking into you. Branding you. Being with you.” To say you were surprised by his words would have been the understatement of the century.

The Mandalorian wanted you. He wanted to have you. He wanted to be with you.

“I-I’ve wanted you for so long...spent so many nights dreaming of being with you.” You confessed to him before you could think of the meaning behind your words and you were met with a deep sigh and a kiss on the lips almost immediately.

“How long Mesh'la?”

“S-since Tatooine.”

Mando’s heart skipped a beat at the short yet direct response. He’s only ever been to Tatooine once with you, months and months ago when he needed Peli to fix something on the Crest for him. You hadn’t even been with their group for three weeks then. So busy thinking of all the ways he could have had you since then, Mando didn’t notice how the silence affected you until your fingers twitched against his chest.

“Mando?”

“That was eons ago.” It was more of a comment than a question and you weren’t sure if he was angry or surprised.

“Is...is that bad?”

“Bad? No Ad'ika, not bad.” When he didn’t offer more of an explanation, you rested your head on his chest and continued to draw circles on his naked abdomen.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there in each others arms but the faint sounds of cooing and laughter snapped you out of your haze and you realized you should probably get up and make something for the kid to eat. Before you could move away from him however, Mando was bringing you closer to him and kissing you again. You knew you could never tire from feeling his lips mold and pass over yours and you welcomed his tongue with as much vigor as you could muster up.

As he pulled away, you smiled at him and wished more than anything to be able to see him smile back at you.

“Din.”

“Hmm?”

“My name...it’s Din. Din Djarin.”

Mando could see the exact moment you registered what he just said and he smirked to himself at how pretty you looked when something shocking took place.

“Din.” You repeated his name silently, afraid this would all be a dream and that he didn’t actually just tell you something that was so important to him.

“You didn’t have to tell me…” You traced his jaw with your fingers and marveled at how oddly soft his beard was.

“I didn’t, but I wanted to.” Din was silent for a few seconds before he flipped you beneath him and took hold of your wrists before slamming them harshly above your head. “I wanted you to know it, Mesh'la, so you could scream it the next time I fucked this sweet and tight cunt.”

For a man of few words, he sure knew what to say to get you worked up again.

Translations:

Ni Kelir kyr'amur gar meh gar vaabir not ba'slanar kaysh - I will kill you if you do not leave her.

Ni vaabir not baatir te waadas. - I do not care about the credits.

Gedet'ye. - Please.

Ad'ika - Little one

Ni’duraa! - You disgust me.

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Cyare - Beloved

Gota'la - Maker.

Gar cuyir mesh'la. - You are beautiful.

K'olar - Come here.

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Ner - Mine.

Ni'm liser't...taylir norac. - I can’t...hold back.

Ni chaabar gar, cyar'ika. - I fear you, darling.

Gar cuyir too jaon'yc at ni. Ni liser't nibral gar. - You are too important to me. I can’t lose you.

#The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian smut #mando x reader #Mando smut #Mando fanfiction #Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin smut #Din Djarin fanfiction #The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #baby yoda #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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venusiangguk · 4 years ago

Text

gold rush pt. 3 | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, v little plot, smut, kinda fluffy, college au (kinda), established relationship

>>word count: 9.9k um?

>>warnings: pegging!!!, butt stuff!!!, sexy anal!!!, sub jk, soft dom oc, crying why do i always make everyone cry, fingering (m), strap on, dildos, vibrators, sex toys, sex shop adventures, explicit sex, like so explicit this bitch is basically 10k, mutual masturbation, coming untouched, kisses, aftercare in the form of snacks, titty squeezing, dirty talk, excessive use of pet names, yoongi exists

>>notes: i wasn’t gonna write this bc ur girl does not know the first thing about pegging, but jk sucking the strap came to me in a dream and i had to do it. it was highly requested so i hope u like it! i wrote and poorly edited this whole thing today so im sorry for any mistakes !!

>>summary: jk wants the strap, and jk gets what he wants !!

pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

The sun is shining, and there’s just the perfect amount of breeze to cool Jeongguk as sweat runs down his temple. The soccer pitch just got cut, making the ball much easier to control, and therefore much easier to aim at Jimin’s ass. It’s cool-down time, so the team is in groups of three, idly kicking the ball between each other, for the last few minutes of practice. All in all, a great day to talk about getting pegged with his best friends.

Jeongguk glances around the field, making sure the other groups are far enough away from him and his friends before clearing his throat. “So… do you guys like… get pegged?”

When Taehyung passes the ball to Jimin, Jimin completely misses it due to the fact that he is looking at Jeongguk like he is the most pitiful human on the planet. Jeongguk adjusts his shin guard to avoid the scrutiny.

“Gguk… honey… are you dumb?”

Taehyung’s jogging back after retrieving the ball that ran astray. “No, Mini. He’s straight.” He kicks the ball to Jeongguk. “If by ‘pegged’ you mean fucked in the ass by a real dick, then yeah. We do.”

Jeongguk receives the ball with a ‘rainbow’ and juggles it from his thigh to his laces, balancing the ball for a second before kicking it to Jimin. He nods, contemplative. “Nice.”

“Okay ace.” He passes to Taehyung, before throwing Jeongguk a teasing look. “You thinking about taking it up the ass, Gukkie?”

“Perhaps I’m contemplating.” He sniffs nose in the air.

Taehyung laughs. “Got your button milked once and now you wanna take a phallic shaped object? Proud of you.” He places his hand over his heart, like the mere thought of Jeongguk getting railed makes his heart warm.

A whistle blows, and Jeongguk kicks the ball up to his arm, tucking it into the curve of his trim waist. “Why does everyone call it a button? And it hasn’t only been once.” He sounds exasperated and so so tired.

His friends jog to bump shoulders with him as they make their way to the locker rooms. “Hey, jokes aside, I think it’s cool you’re like comfortable enough, or whatever, with __ to explore the things you like.” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “Okay Dad.”

“No seriously!” Jimin insists, holding the locker room door open for them. Fuck the rest of the team. “She seems good for you. Babys you like you need.” Jimin laughs.

Jeongguk’s shirt gets caught on his head as he squawks. “I don’t just like being babied, fuck you.”

“Okay so she also entertains your sadistic side. She’s the full package.”

Jeongguk looks down with a blush. He shrugs his shoulders lightly before bending over to get out of his gear. “She’s pretty cool I guess.”

Taehyung knees him while he’s still bent over making him stumble a bit. “Awe, Jeonggukkie is in love.”

“Shut up.” Jeongguk smacks him in the face with his smelly sock.

“When you gonna do it?” Jimin asks, buttoning his new pants.

Apparently they aren’t showering today. Jeongguk will just have to stop at his dorm before heading to yours to help you study. That reminds him that you have a test on Friday, but are free this weekend. He just so happens to be free as well. The team they were supposed to play had to forfeit because their coach got caught sleeping with one of the cheerleaders. Sucks, but good for Jeongguk and his little asshole.

“Maybe this weekend.” With their backpacks on, they start the trek back to the dorms. It’s nearing night now, the sun just starting to set in the sky. Jeongguk pulls out his phone to tell you he’s stopping by his place before heading to you. You reply quickly.

baby🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

okie

wanna have sex instead of helping me study

me:

yeah but im not gonna

just think about how good the sex will be when u get an a

baby🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

🙄

When Jeongguk pockets his phone, Taehyung speaks up.

“You think she’ll be down?”

Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah, probably.”

Ever since the first time you made him cum untouched, butt stuff has been a moderately regular occurrence for you both as a long-term, healthy, pro-ass eating couple. Honestly it was mostly him getting his butt played with, but he supposed it made sense. Like Jimin explained to his once naïve self, it was just biological- or something. Whatever. He wonders if three fingers will be enough to fit a fake dick in his ass. He asks his friends.

“Eh…” Jimin starts, looking up like he’s thinking. “Maybe, but you might wanna try to get to four, maybe five if you're using hers, since she’s tiny.”

Jeongguk’s mouth falls open and he pales. Taehyung notices and laughs.

“Don’t get scared. It’s just better to over-prep than under-prep. And like obviously you work up to it, she’s not just gonna shove her fist or her cock up your ass.”

Her cock. A little tingle settles in Jeongguk’s lower belly at the statement. He’s been thinking about this for a while, looking at porn in his free time. Seeing the way the guys moan on their girls’ strap always gets him hard. Seeing how hard their cocks get when the toy hits them just right. He throbs when he sees the guys cum just from the strap, no hands. Maybe he should fuck you when he gets to your dorm instead of helping you study. His cock is feeling a little plump.

“Alright well… Bye, thanks for being gay and answering my anal questions!”

As he’s pressing the button to his elevator, they lived on opposite sides of the athlete dorm and there were different elevators for each of the wings, Jimin chirps, “Don’t forget to empty your asshole really well, and don’t eat the day of! Also buy extra lube and put a spare blanket down!”

Jeongguk winces. Valuable information indeed, information he mentally pockets, but did he need to yell it in the dorm common room?

“Noted!” He yells back at the elevator dings and opens up. Jeongguk pretends like he doesn’t meet the curious, kind of confused gaze of one of his teammates. He must have walked in while Jimin was yelling and only caught the end of the conversation while waiting for the same elevator. Jeongguk gets in and immediately closes the doors. He can catch the next lift.

~~~

Jeongguk’s got his head in your lap and you’re running your fingers through his long, silky hair. He showered today, so waves of his aromatherapy lavender shampoo are wafting up to you. Sweet boy. He seems sidetracked, occasionally sighing and subtly twisting, but is still more or less purring on your thigh, feet tucked up onto the cushion of the couch. Netflix is on the small tv that was left by the last person who lived there, you’re mac book connected via HDMI. You’re not really paying attention. Mind kind of tired from all the studying you had done this week. Jeongguk fidgets a tiny bit again, wiggling like he’s trying to get comfortable. He huffs a sigh.

“Hey,” You say softly, getting his attention.

His body curves at the waist, causing his t-shirt to bunch up and show off the dip of his hip bone. He looks up at you with wide eyes. He seems surprisingly awake. Must have some busy little bees buzzing around his mind. He makes a little questioning noise.

“You okay? You’re kinda fussy.” You murmur.

He groans. “I- am just thinking.”

“About?” You drag the word out in a singsong-y manner.

The way Jeongguk’s face flushes is so pretty, you have to stop yourself from cooing.

He moves himself from your lap and sits facing you. He looks like he's thinking about what to say, or how to say what he’s thinking so hard about.

Eloquently he states, “I’m horny.”

You glance at his cock. Not quite hard, but a little happy and excited. You chuckle, leaning towards him, giving him a playfully sexy look. “Okay, let’s fuck baby.”

Jeongguk blushes even more, cheeks tinted red, while he leans away from you.

You pout. “What?”

Again he pauses, a small pout on his lips. He seems to be in a soft, needy, difficult mood. You’re probably going to have to pry what he wants to say out of his mouth.

With another uncalled for exasperated huff, Jeongguk rolls his eyes and moves closer to you before catching you by surprise and swinging a leg over your lap. He’s facing you while he straddles your thighs. His arms are looped around your neck, he’s playing with a little bit of your hair, twirling the long length around his fingers. You smile up at him, gently. Your palms squeeze at his narrow hips encouragingly.

“I want to try something new…” He says. He sounds nervous and looks at you the same.

“Mhmm.” You say, fighting a smile.

“Really bad. Like I want it really bad.” His hips roll, probably unconsciously from the way he closes his eyes to ground himself.

You peek at his lap, and his cock is bulging, the fabric of his sweatpants doing nothing to help hide it. You bring your hand to it, and massage him through his pants.

He whines and pushes against your palm before a hand comes down and grabs your wrist, stopping the movement. “Quit it, I’m trying to talk.” He’s so petulant and whiny.

You move your hand away and place it back on his hip, giggling a little. “Well spit it out, then.”

He scowls. You reach up and smooth the wrinkle in his brow before trailing it down and cupping his cheek. He softens immediately, melts like butter in your hands. His eyes close and he lets out a soft sigh, body relaxing a little.

He’s whispering, kinda giggling out of embarrassment, when he says, “I want you to fuck me.” He pauses, peeking at you through his lashes. “Like for real.”

Almost instantly a little spark ignites in your belly, and you feel your pussy get that telltale heartbeat. You didn’t want to push Jeongguk into anything, but you’ve been thinking about taking the ‘next step’ with your… ass-plorations for some time. But you figured he would get to the same point on his own, and would come to you when he was ready. Turns out you know him as well as you thought you did.

“Yeah?” You rub your free hand up his side.

He nods quickly, eagerly. You pinch his cheek lightly, and he retaliates by trying to bite at it. To avoid the attack it finds his way back to his waist.

“When did you want to? Tonight?”

He wiggles impossibly closer to you. Kisses you quick before nodding again. “Yeah. I um. I already like prepped… mostly. I prepped what I could by myself.” He pauses with a cute thinking face. “You will probably have to help me a little. But yeah. I got ready for you just in case.” He nods.

You hum, glancing at the old clock on the wall, another gift from the prior tenant. 11:52 pm.

“If we hurry, we can make it to a sex shop? They don’t usually close until 2 or 3 in the morning.” You suggest.

Jeongguk bites his lip, smiling excitedly. “Really? Can we?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, duh.” You lean up and give him a speedy, but thorough kiss, smiling into it. “Been wanting to peg you for so long.”

His face scrunches endearingly. “Don’t call it that.”

He hops off your lap, and goes to grab the keys, wasting no time. He stands by the door expectantly. His cock is, extremely obviously, sticking out. Someone didn’t wear his briefs today.

“Can you like… kill that?” You’re laughing as you tug on some sweats of your own, having only been lounging in your panties and one of his shirts. Your usual at home attire.

He looks down, and has a smug grin on his face when he looks at you again. “It’ll go down in the car. Hurry up!”

~~~

A dildo looks so much bigger when one is looking at it knowing that it will be inside of them within the next few hours. And there are so many options and colors. Some vibrate, some have fake pubic hair on them. Some have balls that are squishy and feel eerily… accurate.

Jeongguk isn’t having second thoughts, no. But he is having thoughts. Very overwhelming thoughts.

You’re next to your boyfriend, glancing between him and the varying selection of fake cocks displayed in front of you both, trying to gauge his reaction. He looks a little pale, but tentatively excited. Curious at the very least.

“Which one do you want?” You ask.

“No idea.” He responds, eyes wide.

Like most store clerks, one shows up, almost like they have a built in ‘customer needs help and has no idea which dildo to get to peg her super hot boyfriend’ radar.

“You guys need help?” He is a small man, with a monotone voice. He looks like he would rather be anywhere else at 12:30am on a Saturday night.

“NO!” Jeongguk says quickly and loudly. Very loudly.

Both you and the store clerk flinch, looking at him shocked.

Jeongguk shifts on his feet. “No.” He says in a more socially acceptable tone. “No- I’m sorry. But we’re uh-” He grabs your arm and pulls you closer. “We’re good, thanks.”

The clerk looks between you and Jeongguk and the dildos. “Um… Alright.” He starts to walk away before he turns back around. “Well if you change your mind, I’m Yoongi and I’ll be at the counter. If your toy is electric I’ll test it in the back before you leave… We uh- provide batteries with your purchase if needed…” With one last glance, a very judgmental one in Jeongguk’s opinion, Yoongi takes his place at said counter. His eyes flicker to you guys every once in a while.

“Baby,” You grab Jeongguk’s face between your palms and make him look at you. You squeeze and his lips poke out making him look like a guppy. He blinks. “I know you’re nervous, but it’s going to be okay.”

He rolls his eyes, guppy face and all. “Well obviously. I just- We don’t need help.” He wiggles out of your grip, much like a… guppy.

You grin, trying not to laugh, and just be the supportive girlfriend you are. “Okay, did you decide which one you want?”

A side glance. “Not yet…”

You walk up and go to grab a pink sparkly one.

“Uh, not that one.”

You quirk an eyebrow and move your hand to a larger one.

“No.”

You play a little game of dildo hot or cold until you have a better idea of what Jeongguk wants. His preference seems to be skin tone, close to his own, with a more realistic feel. Normal balls though, not squishy. Also no faux hair. You thank him for that. If you actually had a penis it would surely be waxed. Bless Jeongguk for doing the same. As for size, he leaned more towards a very normal, moderate size. Maybe 5 or 6 inches at most, not too thick. Smaller than himself. One last option.

“Do you want it to vibrate?” You ask, holding one in your hand testing the numerous different settings.

He shakes his head, answering quick. “No.”

He pauses.

“Wait.” He thinks. “Maybe. Should we? You could use it too?”

Sweet, kind, considerate angel. Always thinking about you and your pleasure. Couples who share the strap last the longest.

You shrug, pointing out, “I could use one that doesn’t vibrate too.”

He looks offended and sounds snotty. “Uh, you don’t need to.”

“Whatever. Why don’t we get both?”

You had a point. He pretends to ponder it, before nodding, already persuaded. “Okay.”

“We need the harness now.”

You begin the harness hunt, walking through the store, coming across many a things, but for some reason you both keep missing them. They’re nowhere to be found.

“Maybe they’re sold out?” He tries.

“Doubt it. Let’s go ask.” You grab him by his pinky and try to drag him to the counter. He resists.

“Let’s not.”

“Koo.” You say giving him a look.

He whines, throwing his head back. Borderline throwing a fit. You hold your ground, smiling.

He’s easy to give in. Being a brat just on principle. “Fine but you’re talking.”

You stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “Of course, baby.” With his pinky in hand, you make your way to the counter.

The store clerk, Yoongi, if you remember correctly, is sitting behind the counter hunched over smiling at his phone. He doesn’t seem to notice you’re there.

You clear your throat gently, “Excuse me?”

Yoongi jumps, almost throwing his phone. “Fuck!” He exclaims. His fists come up ready to fight before he sees it’s you and Jeongguk. He then places his hand over his heart. “Shit, you scared me.” He chuckles, recovering quickly. “How can I help you?”

You stare at him for a moment longer before speaking up. “Um yeah, I was just wondering where your harnesses are?”

He leans on the counter, head in his hand looking kinda bored. “Hanresses? What kind? Hanging harness? Body harness?”

You glance at Jeongguk and he looks like he’s going to die.

“The um- strap on harnesses?” Your voice goes to a whisper when you say it, despite it just being you guys in the store.

Yoongi sits up, and looks at you, and then looks at Jeongguk. A look of understanding comes over his face along with an amused smile. He nods to himself, while getting up to help you. “Nice. Follow me.”

Jeongguk gapes at the ‘nice’ and looks at you in disbelief. You pat his butt telling him to get going.

With some help from Yoongi you pick out a harness that looks supportive and comfortable, the ring that holds the dildo, compatible with both the ones that you plan on getting. It’s a simple adjustable black one. Yoongi recommended wearing something under it if the straps dig into you and irritate. He seems bored, but he’s actually very good at his job, and very knowledgeable.

Finally you’re at the counter. You place all the items in Yoongi’s reach and he’s just about to tell you the total when Jeongguk perks up.

“Wait!” He says before scurrying off.

It’s quiet for a split second. Before the clerk speaks up.

“He’s cute.”

You smile, “Thanks, he’s mine.”

Yoongi laughs, small little fish teeth and gums on display. Must be a Pisces. You know Pisces teeth. “Does he have any cute friends?”

You nod. “Yeah, but they are dating.”

He shrugs. “Don’t care.”

“Uh… I can give you their Instagrams?”

He pulls out his phone, and follows them right there after a quick glance at their pages. Confidence is nice.

There’s a short lull in the conversation. And Jeongguk seems to be taking his sweet time getting something you guys must have forgotten. Or the poor things lost. It’s a big store. You speak up this time.

“Do you have like a manager I could leave a review for? You were really helpful, and seemed like you really knew what you were talking about.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I own the place. You think I would be here on a Saturday night if it wasn’t obligatory? Thanks, though.”

“Oh.” You say. That was pretty impressive. The store was quite successful based on the reviews. You would make sure to let Jimin and Taehyung know Yoongi was a business man.

“Okay, I’m back.” Jeongguk announces. “Sorry I forgot where it was.”

He places 2 (two) large bottles of lube on the counter. You cough out a laugh.

“Baby, we have lube at home.”

“But do we have enough?”

“I think maybe one more would be more than enough.”

He ignores you, looking Yoongi in the eyes for the first time tonight. “Add both please.”

Yoongi nods, looking a little scared of Jeongguk’s seriousness, and does as he’s ordered.

After Jeongguk pays, and you both are making your way to the exit, Yoongi calls out, “Good luck, tell your friends to follow me back!”

“Uh- Okay?” Jeongguk yells back. When you’re in the parking lot, he asks, “What the heck was that about?”

You shake your head, laughing to yourself. “Don’t worry about it.”

~~~

As soon as you get back to your dorm, the atmosphere is thick, full of tension and nervous anticipation. Jeongguk’s fidgety, eager to get started. You’re not far off, but contain yourself a little more. Need to keep control of the situation in case Jeongguk gets deep into his mood.

You guys are in the bathroom now, each one washing a toy before you use it. You make sure to unwrap the harness and the lube as well, both at Jeongguk’s insistent request, ensuring you don’t have to stop and deal with it later.

“Let’s just get undressed in here, it’s where my hamper is.” You say already tugging your shirt over your head, tits bouncing freely. Jeongguk went without briefs today, and you went without a bra.

Jeongguk quietly follows suit, and you don’t miss the way his hands are trembling a little in anticipation. When you’re both naked he kisses you quickly, and jiggles your boobs a little just because they are there and because he can, before saying, “Okay, lets go.” He’s out the bathroom before you can even respond. You laugh to yourself and gather the stuff he forgot in his excitement.

When you walk out with your hands full, you see Jeongguk spreading out a blanket over your comforter.

“Whatcha doin?” You ask curiously, placing the items on the nightstand.

“Gets messy. Wanna save your bedding.” He states.

You squawk, grabbing the blanket he set up on your bed. “Not my baby blanket you monster.”

He laughs, abs tensing. You notice he’s already hanging a little heavy between his thighs. “Sorry. Was the first one I saw.” He walks over to the couch and replaces the blanket that’s hanging over the back with your baby blanket and resets up. “Better?” he asks, extended his arm towards your bed to show off his work.

You nod, and take the few steps needed to close the space between you both. Your hand runs down his belly, and you feel his muscles jump, and you see little goosebumps sprout all over. His hands come up to cup your tits. You kiss softly where his heart is. You look up at him.

“I love you.” You smile.

He blushes. “Love you.” He whispers, before he leans down and slots your lips together.

It’s eager from the start. Your bodies press together, as your hands roam. When he takes a breath and surges back in, your teeth click together is his haste, before his tongue slips into your mouth. He groans into you, his hand going down to cup your ass, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer.

You feel his cock against your belly, almost fully hard already. You reach down to wrap a hand around him, wanting to help him get there before you get started. He hisses, thrusting forward instinctively before pulling away. He looks like he hates that he does.

“No- I,” He’s already short of breath, chest rising and falling a little bit faster than normal. “I wanna watch you cum. With the toy.” He reaches around you, grabbing the vibrating dildo. “Please?” He asks. His eyes are fervent.

You take the toy in your hand, and kiss him again softly. “Yeah, baby. Whatever you. It’s all about you tonight.”

He shakes his head. “Always about you too.”

Your heart beats, happy in your chest. You thought about it earlier in the night, but Jeongguk really was the best lover. He always, always made sure you were taken care of, before, during, and after sex. He was so vocal and communicative, genuinely wanting you to know it was always about both of you, even if one was receiving more attention. He was caring like that in and out of the bedroom. You were so lucky to be his.

“You’re too good to me,” You laugh, climbing onto the bed. You settle back against your pillows, propping some behind you so you can see him, and watch him while you get off. He takes his place in front of you, looking at you expectantly.

He’s impatient, placing his hands on your knees, spreading you open so he can see your cunt. You let him get you into position before saying, “Keep your hands to yourself now, okay?”

He nods, eyes never leaving your pussy. He licks his lips. “Okay.” It’s said in a distracted kind of far away tone.

You hum as you bring the toy to your mouth, getting it wet. You wouldn’t need any lube, you would be dripping in no time. You don’t waste any time putting your free hand down between your legs and spreading your pussy lips, so your clit and the pretty pink center of your cunt are displayed for Jeongguk. You glance at him through your lashes, when you hear a small gasp fall from his lips. He’s already got a hand around himself. Just the tips of his fingers stroking his length, at a leisurely pace.

“She’s so pretty… You’re so pretty.” His eye flick to your face before zeroing in on your center again.

“Tell me how to do it baby. Tell me what you want to see.” You say, voice salacious and soft. You circle your finger slowly around your nub, dipping inside just a bit to spread your slick around.

When he swallows, it’s audible, his Adam's apple jumping. “I want you to turn it on low, and put it on your clit. I want you to feel good.”

You smile, and drag the tip of it down your body to just above your clit, turning it on the lowest setting before making contact with your sensitive nub. Your legs jolt, almost closing when you feel the vibrations. Even the lowest setting was strong. Your head falls back, and your legs spread more for him once you get used to the strength of the toy. “Fuck…” You breathe.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, greedy for your pleasure.

You nod, eyes still closed, focusing. You move the vibrator in small circles over your clit. You can hear Jeongguk’s breaths speed up.

“Turn it up.” His voice gives away that he’s speeded up his hand on his cock too.

You do as he says, looking at him as you do. He’s sin personified. He’s on his knees, sitting back on his feet, so his thighs are flexed and bulging. His abs tense when his palm twists under the crown of his cock. His eyes almost look black, pupils blown so wide, lust taking over his face. He’s got his plump bottom lip drawn between his teeth. He looks up from your pussy and catches you staring. He smiles shyly.

You keep your eyes on him as you bring the toy back down to your core. A short high pitched moan falls from your lips, as your brows knit together, before your eyes roll back. He groans, your expression enough to make his cock start to leak.

“Feels so good, Jeongguk.” You moan. The vibrator is right where it feels best, pulsing against your clit, causing pleasure to bleed into your veins.

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, he’s breathless, sounds like he’s in love. With you, your cunt. “Tell me.”

“‘S just right Koo, could make me cum just like this…”

He curses, and you open your eyes just in time to see him grip the base of his cock, keeping himself in check. “Not yet, baby. Little longer, please.” Still so polite and good for you, even when he’s the one telling you what to do.

He has you keep the vibe there, for a while longer, right in the spot that’s gonna make you lose it. He watches as a tiny clear drop leaks from you pink little pussy. It looks like it’s heavy and about to drip down to the blanket under you. He doesn’t notice your legs shaking until you’re gasping, “Koo, I’m almost- I’m gonna-”

“No!” He says quickly, his hand reaches out to pull the vibrator from your cunt just before you get your high. Your pussy aches and throbs, wanting to cum so bad.

Your chest is heaving when you ask, “Are… are you edging me?”

He shakes his head, even though your eyes are closed, trying to catch your breath. “No, no! I just. I got distracted.” He looks at that small drop of slick again. Fuck, he wants to lick it up and drink you down. “You’re leaking.” He states.

You laugh, breathing getting back to normal. “Yeah?” You reach your hand down to collect the distracting little droplet and bring it in front of you. You press the sticky finger to your thumb and then pull them apart to see the clear strings stay connected even as you pull. You hum, before offering your hand to Jeongguk. He sucks in a breath.

“Want some?”

He’s quick as he crawls between you legs, cock fully hard now. He watches you as he sucks your fingers into his mouth, tongue swirling around getting every last bit, before he sucks off with a pop!

He crawls farther up your body to kiss you deep, wanting you to get a taste of yourself too. He pulls back just a bit, and whispers against your lips, “I want you to fuck yourself with it, okay? Just for a little bit, then you can cum?” He’s phrasing it as a question, knowing he really doesn't have the final say, not tonight. But his voice is shaking from how turned on he is, how could you ever say no?

“Sit back.” Is all you respond. He does as he’s told.

You buzz the toy over your clit again, just because you can. Wanting to see how long Jeongguk can be good before begging. Turns out it’s not long at all.

“Put it in…” He moans. You look at him and his mouth is parted, and his eyes heavy as he watches you. His hand is moving fast over his cock, sticking straight up to his tummy. “Please.”

You drag the toy down to your slit, and tease it there before just barely pushing it in just a fraction of the length. Jeongguk whines, high and desperate. Apparently you’re moving to slow for him.

“More,” He begs.

You sigh, “You’re so needy tonight, baby.” He nods, agreeable.

When the toy sinks inside of you all the way to the hilt, you and Jeongguk both moan a quiet, “Fuck.” simultaneously. You’re coherent enough to laugh a little at the jinx, but he seems to barely notice, too focused on watching the toy sink into you, and then come back out to vibrate your clit again. You keep up this teasing pattern, again waiting to be told what to do by him, waiting to see how long he makes it this time.

“Harder, do it harder,” He’s panting. Moaning every word that leaves his lips.

You do as he says, and finally push the toy in at a pace that gets you climbing to being close again. You won’t be able to come like this though, and he knows that. Knows that you can only cum from penetration with him. He leans over and grabs the other toy from the end table, spitting on it and spreading it around until it's covered well.

“Use them both, want you to cum for me.”

With two toys in your hands, one in your cunt, filling you up, and one on your clit, making your legs shake, you do your best to make yourself cum. But it’s not enough. A soft whine falls from your lips, you’re so close, but you need more. More than you can give yourself.

“Faster baby, faster. You’re so close.” He whispers. He got both hands working now too, one stroking and one down tugging on his balls.

You whimper, “I can’t my arm hurts. It’s tired.”

Immediately he stops pleasing himself and gets right to pleasing you. Your pleasure taking priority. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll help you baby.”

Jeongguk sits between your legs, and takes over the toy fucking into you, and turns up the one on your clit. With him pushing the toy in at a pace that you couldn’t do yourself, and the other toy vibing your clit incessantly, it takes barely any time at all for you to cum. You were so close already, just needed him to push you over.

Your legs are shaking and your toes are curling, when you cry out, “Baby, I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, baby. Wanna watch.” He’s quiet, paying close attention to your body and the reactions he’s helping pull from it. He’s part of the reason why your face looks so pornographic as you finish. He’s part of the reason why your back is arching off of the bed. He’s part of the reason why your toes are curling, and why your legs are shaking, and why your pussy is contracting over the toy he’s still thrusting inside of you, working you through every last second of your orgasm. He reads your body cues, and slows down and pulls it out when you start to come down. You look blissed out, and you bring a hand to your hair and fluff it a little before laughing.

“That was good.” You sigh smiling, and when you look at him an image forms in your head, and you have every intention of making him carry it out.

Right before your eyes, Jeongguk wraps his lips around the toy that is going to be inside of him in just a short while, sucking off your slick. He laps his tongue around it trying to get it all. He’s obscene.

“Gimme,” You say sitting up with an extended hand.

He pouts at being interrupted, but does as he’s told. He takes your spot on the bed, and you head to the bathroom, stopping by your dresser on the way.

When you get to the bathroom, you close the door and get to cleaning the toys once again. After, you get to the stuff you grabbed from the wardrobe. A lacy pair of black panties, and sheer black thigh highs with matching lace adorning the tops. You slip into them, and then move on to the strap on. You hold it in front of you and try to make sense of which part goes where, and which holes your legs go into. It takes a second, but you get into it, adjusting it so it's nice and snug. Your outfit probably won’t help much with protecting your thighs, but at least the little part above your pussy will be safe. You look at yourself in the mirror. Not too weird or scary yet. You glance at the dildo on the counter.

It’s not too big so hopefully it’s not too… jarring when you see yourself with it. You get to work, slipping the suction base of the non-vibrating toy into the ring that’s meant to hold it in place. You look at it sticking out from your crotch and take a deep breath before turning to the mirror.

You gasp, before cackling quietly. You knew it was going to be weird. Like you knew. But actually seeing yourself with the whole get up is funny. Right now at least. You know it’s going to be sexy, once you get used to it and into the moment and inside of Jeongguk. You wonder how he’s going to react. Only one way to find out.

While you're walking to your bedroom from the bathroom, the dildo bobs, and you're giggling distractedly until you lift your eyes to let your boyfriend know you're ready. Again you’re met with a scene so indecent it belongs in a porno.

Jeongguk’s eyes are closed and soft moans are falling from his lips as he strokes his cock. He’s got three fingers in his ass, opening himself up for you, for your cock. Such a good good boy. He was so patient and productive while you got ready for him.

“You’re so good baby,” You murmur softly.

Jeongguk blinks his eyes open slowly, and rolls his head to the side to look at you. He doesn’t even falter in his movements at all, hand still moving, fingers still thrusting. He smiles a little when he sees you, but his eyes are hazy and he sounds lust drunk when he simply says, “You look sexy.”

You blush and a fond smile graces your lips, any embarrassment or self consciousness you were feeling prior to seeing him spread out for you on your bed, quickly vanishing.

You settle on the bed between his legs and watch for a moment as his hole takes his long fingers in. “Want me to help?” You ask quietly.

“Mhmm,” He nods, eyes closed still, tongue peeking out from between his lips. He doesn’t take his fingers out, though.

You grab the lube next to him, and flip it open. “You gonna get out so I can get in?”

He shakes his head. “Nuh uh. Put one in with mine.”

Something about that makes your body tingle. Inside of him with him. Opening him up. You can’t explain it, because you don’t really even get it yourself, but it makes you buzz and feel almost high.

You slick up your middle finger, and drizzle some more on his for good measure. He jumps slightly, and then giggles softly.

“Cold.” He says.

“Sorry,” You say distractedly. Your finger is lined up with his now.

“I’ve never done 4 before so you… have to go slow…” He pauses as he speaks, letting himself moan freely when his fingers graze over that secret spot that he’s grown to love so much.

“Tell me to stop if you need to.”

He doesn’t reply, just stops his fingers so you can wiggle yours in next to his. At the first push against his hole, there’s resistance. Very much expected. He’s quiet, teeth gritted, but he never says stop, knowing his body wants it, and knowing it will accommodate what he wants. After the second knuckle, your finger sinks in, almost gets sucked in, by his hole.

He lets out a shaky breath.

“You okay, baby?” You check in.

“Yeah just… full.” He moans when you wiggle your finger experimentally. “”S good. Move it some more.”

You do, and his start to move with yours. You can feel his fingers curl inside of himself to reach his prostate, and it’s pleasant in an out of body way, knowing when his face is going to contort in pleasure, and when he’s going to cry out, when you never really knew before. You’ve milked him before, of course, but feeling him do it to himself from the inside? It’s kind of thrilling.

“Pull, stretch me out.” He moans, voice impatient and needy.

He gets kinda slutty when something’s up his ass.

He swears when you do, his finger rubbing insistent circles on his prostate to distract himself from the minor sting of the stretch. His moans, start to raise in pitch and his hand that’s on his cock, still jerking it, starts to speed up. You can tell he’s close. He clenches against your finger that’s still stretching him open.

“Fuck,” He says, on a breathless giggle, “Take them out. Or I’m gonna cum.” He’s still stroking his cock, like he doesn’t wanna stop.

“You c-”

“No. Out.” He demands, hand finally pulling away from his cock, and his fingers inside stop. You gently ease out of him.

When Jeongguk’s fingers slip out, you gasp. His little pink hole is clenching on nothing, still open just the tiniest bit, thoroughly stretched.

“You know how you always say my pussy is pretty?” You ask, fingers tracing around the puffy stretched rim.

He makes an affirmative noise, watching you with hooded, lazy eyes as you touch him. He even spreads farther so you can touch and see better. You marvel at the difference between the embarrassed boy you made cum untouched a couple months ago, and the one in front of you now, so comfortable and relaxed. It makes you happy.

“Well, your butthole is pretty.”

He snorts, and kicks you lightly. He smiles at you, soft and sluggish. “Just fuck me.”

He sounds so wistful and just ready.

But you’re not.

You grip the base of your cock, and stand up. You walk to the head of the bed, next to his confused face. You stay there waiting for him to get it. He doesn’t.

“You want me inside of you right baby?” You ask, voice gentle.

He nods, eyes no longer hazy, but wide and confused. He looks between you and your cock.

“I think that means you have to get me ready. Get me nice and wet, right?”

You can physically see when Jeongguk gets it. When it clicks for him. His eyes darken, and he licks his lips. “Yeah… You’re right. I should… help you.” He whispers, sitting up. You back up enough for him to have a place on the floor.

Jeongguk on his knees for you isn’t a new sight. He’s eaten your pussy like this before, you either grinding onto his face, or him holding you still and making quick work of your clit. But Jeongguk on his knees for you to suck your cock? New, and lewd.

He looks nervous, kind of hesitant. A hand is raised midway, like he isn't sure if he should grab it.

“Lick it, baby.” You encourage.

He glances at you, doe eyes seeking approval as he leans forward and gives a kitten lick to the tip. You nod, letting him know he’s doing well. His hand comes up and replaces yours at the base and he opens his mouth enough to wrap his lips around the head, and he swirls his tongue.

He pops off, and strokes up to where his mouth was and spreads the little bit of spit. The silicone is still dry though, so he spits on it more, straight from his mouth. You suck in a breath.

“Fuck, you’re so hot baby.” You whisper a breathy moan as his hands move up and down your cock. He adds his mouth again.

He hums a little, before backing up and looking at you again. “Does that feel good?” He asks.

You laugh lightly, in pure awe of him. He’s so sexy, and so sweet, and so incredibly lust inducing. Your pussy aches behind your cock. “Feels so good, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He hums, still stroking you off. “I really want it inside me…” He says, hinting that he’s ready.

You have mercy on him, having fulfilled your newfound personal fantasy enough for the night. Maybe you could revisit it another time. But now it was time to fulfill a mutual fantasy.

“On the bed, hands and knees.” You tell him.

Excitedly he hops back onto the bed, and gets into position, his hole on display for you. His back is arched and you can see the plush swell where his lower back meets the top of his cheeks. You settle behind him, and his shoulder to waist to hip ratio, is sinful. He’s always had the daintiest waist, strong, but still so small. But at this angle, it’s cinched and the way his legs are spread makes his hips look wider, accentuating the dip at his middle. You rub your hands over the narrow curve, all the way to his cheeks, grabbing handfuls of the muscle. There’s a slight give when you squeeze your hands.

Jeongguk’s head drops, and he lets out a shuddering sigh, he’s got the chills again, and he’s got a constant thrum coursing through his body. “Please…” He moans, so quietly, so desperately.

You kiss the small of his back before grabbing the lube left abandoned on the bed. You lather 2 of your fingers, and push them into Jeongguk’s hole making sure he’s nice and slick. There’s no resistance at all, hole loose and ready enough for them to slip right in. Then you lather your cock, probably with too much lube, honestly, but you wanted to be so sure that he didn’t feel any more pain than absolutely necessary. You knew the first initial push in would be the worst, but you were hopeful you both had stretched him out enough to at least minimize or diminish it altogether.

You grab the base of your cock and line it up with his hole. It flutters, when you barely press against his rim.

“Ready?” You ask, giving a heads up.

“Yeah.” He says softly.

He’s tight. His hole sinks in with the tip of your cock before the rim gives and swallows around it. Jeongguk tenses and his hands grip the blanket under you.

“Shit…” He groans. He sounds like he’s clenching his teeth.

You rub soothingly at his lower back, fingers dipping when you run them over the dimples at the bottom of his spine. “You’re doing so good baby.” You tell him.

“Doesn’t really hurt, I’m just stretching.” He says through his teeth. “I can take it though, keep going.”

You grab the lube and drizzle more directly onto his hole. He doesn’t mention the cold this time, too focused on taking your cock. You push against him, and feel yourself sink deeper into him. It’s like after the tip was in, his body knew what to do to take the rest. The slide wasn’t a swift, fast stroke, but it was a smooth and slow glide. When you bottom out Jeongguk’s arms give out from under him, his face going to the bed.

“Holy fuck.” He keens, resting his head on his arms. Your hands are constantly on him, soothing him in any way that you can.

“Tell me when.” You whisper patiently. He nods. With his head turned to the side and pillowed on his arms, you can see his eyes are squeezed shut. The inhales and exhales you can see in the expanding of his ribcage, tell you that he’s taking deep breaths working through the stretch, getting himself used to it.

“Okay… Ready.” He murmurs.

You pull out just a bit before pushing back in. Jeongguk moans softly. Spreads his legs even wider, arches his back even deeper. He’s pushing his ass out for you, his body begging you to make it feel good.

You keep a slow pace, kind of nervous to speed up.

“You can go faster, feels nice.” He says. He’s been puffing out little gasps of air every time you bottom out with your slow pace.

With his consent, you grab at his hips and pull out to just the tip, before swiftly pushing back in, fast and hard. His cheeks bounce on the impact. You grab one and jiggle it a little, thrusting into him again, drinking down the whines that slip out.

“You’ve got such a bubble butt, I never noticed before. But it like… bounces.” You say, wonder in your tone.

“Thanks, can you like tell me about it later?” He asks, voice strained.

Point taken.

Your thrust game is kind of shitty, in reality. It’s hard to find a rhythm, your hips not used to moving this way. But Jeongguk is moaning freely underneath you, just happy to have something inside of him after thinking about it all week. So you keep going, and eventually, the pattern comes to you, still kind of messy, but now you’ve got him cursing beneath you. You’ve got one hand on his ass, the other braced on his arched spine.

A particularly good thrust has Jeongguk burying his face into the bed, teeth biting at the bedding. “Yeah fuck-” He groans with his mouth full of blanket. With his hands now free, he brings them behind him and settles them on his cheeks and spreads.

You watch clearly as your cock sinks into Jeongguk’s ass. You’re out of breath, but you make sure to tell him how good he looks, how pretty his hole looks swallowing your cock, like it was made to take it.

“Wanna ride you.” He says. His voice is pitifully wrecked and he sounds so thoroughly fucked, you feel a little proud. Still, you’re grateful for a break. You don’t know how he fucks you like he does. ‘Topping’ is tiring. You pull out of him, and realize that when you were in awe of his hole at taking your fingers, it was premature. Jeongguk’s hole after he takes your cock is vulgar. It’s properly gaped now. Not huge, but around a fingers width.

He rolls over, and settles on his back like he just needs a moment. His chest is heaving, similar to yours. You hop off the bed, and a needy keen comes from him. You glance back at him, and he looks like he’s going to get up and follow you, but you hush him gently.

“I’m just getting some water, baby. I’ll be right back.”

He huffs flopping back onto his back. “Hurry please.” He whines.

You get back as soon as possible with a glass of water for you both to share. He sits up onto one elbow and makes a grabby hand for the cup after you’ve had your share. You swat his hand away and hold the cup to his lips. He hums, gulping the water down. He’s happy to be coddled and taken care of. When he finishes with a cute little gasp, you place the cup to the side, and brush your hand through his sweaty hair.

He butts his head against your palm and laughs. His eyes shut, and crinkled at the corners. His water break seems to have perked him up. His cock hasn’t deflated one bit. Rock hard and red, throbbing against his tummy. It’s messy and wet too.

You’re about to ask if he touched himself while you were inside of him, but before you can, you’re getting manhandled until he’s on top of you. He’s got your hands pinned above your head, and he smiles at you playfully, before leaning down to kiss you, deep and slow. He sucks on your lip, and slowly grinds his cock onto your belly, soft whines spilling from his tongue. He brushes his nose against yours as he sighs into your mouth, finally allowing himself the pleasure of paying attention to his cock.

He doesn’t allow himself relief for long, however. He’s sitting up and looking from side to side for the lube before finally spotting it. His movements are quick and hectic, like he’s too excited and overly eager.

You rub your hands over his strong thighs. “Hey, slow down. You don’t have to rush. We have all night.”

He sighs at your touch, and nods softly. He whispers. “Yeah… okay. I love you.”

The little affection makes you swoon, absolutely smitten. “I love you.” You squeeze at his legs, tenderly.

He hums. “Gonna ride you now.” He opens the lube and continues with eager actions, almost like you didn’t even slow him down just a moment ago. You smile fondly to yourself. Jeongguk’s too busy slicking up your cock again to notice the mushy look.

He’s got a hand reaching behind him and he’s gripping your cock to line it up with his hole. He wiggles to get into the right position before slowly starting to sink down. His eyebrows are pinched, and his mouth falls open. But his eyes roll back when he bottoms out. His hands are braced on your stomach.

“Oh, I love it like this.” He whimpers. His legs tense at your sides, almost like he’s trying to close his legs at the pleasure he feels from your cock being tucked inside of him, hitting all the right places. He starts to grind on your cock, soft pleasured little mewls just tumbling off his tongue.

He looks so good, whining, grinding on you with his weeping cock displayed. But you wanna see him lose it on your cock. See him fall apart at how good it feels, not watch him bask in it.

“Bounce on it.” You say, voice sounding almost as fucked out as his. You know your panties are soaked through at this point, pussy pulsing and neglected, tucked away behind the strap.

Jeongguk nods. “Yeah, wanna.”

He’s lifting himself off your cock to the tip before sliding down on it again, hard and fast. It punches a sharp gasp from his lungs. He finds a pace he likes and keeps it up, his thighs tensing, and his abs flexing as he tests his stamina, chasing that euphoric feeling he wants so so badly. He’s so strong and fit, bouncing up and down on your cock as loud unabashed moans fill the room.

The force of him riding you makes your tits jiggle, bouncing around until they catch his attention. He groans before his hands find them, squeezing hard, using them as leverage as he pulls and drags his hips over yours. Your cock must be rubbing over his prostate because he’s losing his mind. All kinds of noises leave his mouth, and the expressions he makes are filthy.

“Fuck baby. You make me feel so good. The best- I-” He eyes squeeze shut and his mouth opens in a silent moan, overwhelmed, before a guttural groan sounds from deep within his chest. “God. Wanna cum on your cock, baby. Fuck me-”

You laugh, wonderstruck, and kind of deliriously high on the satisfaction and fulfillment you get from seeing Jeongguk feel so just…. Good. “Yeah baby? You’re gonna cum for me? All over my cock?”

He whimpers and nods as he gets back to bouncing, a desperation to his movements that wasn’t there before. His cock is slapping against both of your stomachs with nasty wet noises due to his precum getting everywhere. You feel some fly and hit your neck, his cock just dripping, weeping and begging to cum.

It won’t be long though, before he cums. You feel the way his thighs tense, and he gets that confused look on his face, and he’s got that puzzled pitch to his moans. It’s the way he always gets when he cums untouched, always in awe that he can do it himself, without a hand around his cock. His whole body is flushed and hot to the touch, sweat making him glow in the soft light of your bedroom lamp.

He throws his head back, neck extended, and veins bulging, before looking down at his bouncing cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He’s so whiny and noisy when he moans.

“Yeah?” You ask again, “Do it baby, show me how. You can do it, cum for me.”

He’s nodding frantically, “Yeah- I’m gonna... Fuck, yes- Yeah, I’m-” He bounces a few more times, silent aside from the obscene squelching noises of your skin meeting, before his body tenses one last time before that string in him snaps. “Cumming-” He chokes it out. His moans don’t stop the whole time his cock shoots out his load, landing on your tummy. The moans even turn into cries, actual tears filling his eyes and falling down his cheeks. His body jerks and twitches with his orgasm. But still, he’s grinding on you, your cock still rubbing that spot inside of him, it’s like he never wants the feeling to end, even if it’s devastating, bordering on too much to handle.

You smooth your hands all over his sweaty body, before firmly placing them on his hips, stopping him. “Hey. You’re good, you did so good baby, you don’t have to keep going.”

Jeongguk’s cries are quiet, and he takes a few deep stuttering breaths to try and calm himself down, nodding with your soothing words. He rubs the back of his hand at his eyes, trying to dry them. It doesn’t help much, he’s calmed himself some but a few silent tears still make their way out, along with some soft hiccupping breaths.

“Lay down, and wait for me, hmm?” You whisper gently. He nods and lifts himself slowly, wincing at the sore ache in his hole. It’s more prevalent now that the pleasure has subsided. He all but collapses onto your pillow.

“I’m gonna get some more water, and a towel okay?”

He grunts in response.

Before you go, you strip out of the gear, just tossing it on the ground, eager to get back to Jeongguk after getting the things you need.

When you get back, he is in the same exact position, and you laugh lightly.

“Baby?” You ask, making sure he didn’t fall asleep.

Another grunt.

Good, he would hate you in the morning if you left him to sleep being so messy.

“Sit up, I have water and snacks and cleaning supplies.”

His head pops up. “Snacks?” His hair is sticking up on one side.

You laugh, endeared. He’s not crying anymore either, a good sign that he will be okay in just a little while after some kisses and love.

“Yeah, I got some of those seaweed chips you like, and some water.”

He sits up, leaning back on the pillows knowing the drill for after butt stuff. You hand him the water and the chips. He eats first.

“You hungry?” You ask, fitting yourself between his legs with the warm washcloth. He opens easily, munching away. You both are far past after sex shyness.

He talks with his mouth full. “Yeah. Jimin said not to eat the day off.”

You hum curiously, but don’t question it. Jimin partakes in butt stuff much more than you both.

You’ve got all the lube cleaned off his thighs and cheeks, now all that’s left is his hole. You do it as gently as you can, knowing he’s sore just from how red and swollen and puffy it is. But he still winces.

“How bad is it?” He mumbles.

You hesitate. “Um… You’re gonna be a little sore.” You tell him simply.

He groans, before downing his water. When he’s done, he says, “Practice is going to suck.”

You nod in agreement. It was. You wrap the used cloth in the blanket you used to protect your sheets, once again just tossing the bundle to the floor.

“Worth it though,” He smiles, pleased.

You chuckle as you find your place by him. He’s set his refreshments aside and lets you curl against him. His body sags with exhaustion when he feels your warmth press into him. You plant kisses on every inch of skin you can reach. He purrs.

“Why’d you keep going?” You ask, between smooches.

“I don’t know… it just felt so good. I guess I didn’t want it to stop.” He’s quiet, and his words are said on a sigh.

You nod, your kisses making your way to his lips. You just kiss him, slow and easy, for a few minutes until he yawns into it. He giggles.

“I’m so tired man.”

“I bet man.” You tease.

He kisses you one more time before asking, “Will you tickle my back until I fall asleep?” It’s hopeful and so sugary sweet.

“Yeah roll over.”

It’s barely a few minutes before you're met with his soft snores. You kiss his shoulder blade, before following right behind him.

~~~~

you ask for pegging and you shall receive :] i hope you liked it and that it met ur pegging standards askdkhjd as always, comments and feedback and asks and notes are loved and appreciated. thank you for reading friends ily :*

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

Note

Hi val! Got a request, it's okay if you don't wanna write it, but can you write about peter telling the reader he's going on a huge mission and he's excited about it but the reader is so worried they end up arguing? But when peter gets back from mission all bruised, the reader is still upset but dresses his wound anyway and it ends up with fluff??

abort mission

w/c: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, and angst

a/n: woah woah woah i ended up writing way more than i expected but i loved this request so much :,) i hope you do too

“we’re staying in this, like, super fancy castle while we’re there. it’s gonna be awesome,” peter rambles to you. he takes all the clean shirts in his drawer and throws them into a suitcase.

he’s packing for a mission in europe with the avengers, and you’re here to say goodbye. you’ve been pretty quiet while peter gives you as many details as he’s allowed to. it’s always an honor when the team invites him on. he gets so stoked about it. you’re happy he’s happy and gets to pursue his passion, but you’ve noticed a pattern.

every time peter leaves the country with earth’s mightiest heroes, he comes back in worse condition than the last. it seems like they protect everyone except peter. he’s oblivious to the fact that the end result is always his suffering. he’s just glad to be there. really, he gets nothing in return except scars that never heal, not even a permanent spot on the team.

so, you’re not thrilled he agreed to go.

“plus, i get to miss two weeks of school.” peter beams, getting onto his knees to zip the suitcase. “feels like a vacation almost.” “you like school, though,” you remind him. you’re sat at the edge of his bed while you watch, rather than help. he hops up again with a shrug. “i like vacations more.” “it’s not a vacation,” you mutter to yourself, then speak up.

“how are you gonna catch up? that’s a lot of missing assignments.” with that same innocent smile, peter walks over to you. he grabs both your hands and laces your fingers together. “i’m a fast learner. besides, ned said he’d help me.” you sigh, looking down at the floor so you don’t have to look at peter. “or, you could. make it into a little study date when i get back,” he suggests while playing with your fingers.

“i don’t even want you to go,” you finally admit and meet his sparkling eyes. nothing could ever dull them. “why not? you’re gonna miss me?” peter teases, pressing a couple of kisses to your palm. “you don’t have to. i’m pretty sure france has wifi.” he wiggles his eyebrows. “oui oui, mademoiselle, eh?” despite yourself, you giggle at his french accent and tug on his hands. he sits down next to you with a chuckle.

“nat has been giving me lessons,” peter explains, you quirking an eyebrow. “she speaks french?” “she speaks a lot of languages, actually. she’s so cool.” peter scoots closer to you and sets his hands on your waist, his voice dropping. “you’d love her.” your face twists up in confusion at the idea.

you don’t have anything against the avengers, obviously. they’re good people. you’re just not the biggest fan of them at the moment, considering the circumstances they’ve put peter under.

“peter, i don’t want you to go,” you repeat more seriously than before. your teeth sink into your lower lip. “and, it’s not because i’ll miss you.” “none taken,” peter jokes, implying there should’ve been a no offense. he then realizes how distressed you look, so he cuts it out. “sorry, sorry. i’m done now. how come?”

you take his hand again and hold it tight. “what if you get hurt?” you ask in the nicest way possible, out of care. “i don’t wanna see you hurting, pete. this mission sounds really... dangerous.” he runs his thumb over the back of your hand, his grin faltering a bit. “it is, but i’m ready for it. i’ll be fine.”

you’re not convinced yet. that line he likes to overuse isn’t enough to do the trick.

his eyes searching for yours, peter brushes a piece of your hair back. “have a little faith in me, babe.” “no, i... i do. i have the most faith in you, peter.” you find yourself frowning as he twirls your locks around his finger. “that’s not the problem.” peter’s voice becomes a whisper. “what is it, then? talk to me.”

you do the opposite because you’re afraid you’ll upset him further, which is the last thing he needs right now. your silence prompts peter to fill it. “would it make you feel better if i say mr. stark is keeping an eye on me?” he’s smiling sheepishly, you scoffing. “oh, like he kept an eye on you in amsterdam?”

the only eye related activity that happened there was peter almost losing one of his. he’d come back with an eyepatch and couldn’t see out of it for over a month. to this day, there’s still a bit of blood in it when you look close enough.

“i already told you, that was my fault,” peter grumbles, turning so he faces forward. “i didn’t listen to him-“ “who gives a shit? he’s the one who put you in that situation!” you blurt out. you’ve been way too patient this whole time, and now you’re reaching your breaking point. “you say that like i didn’t wanna be there.” peter clenches his jaw, still mostly calm.

“either way, mr. stark,” you mock what peter always calls him, “was supposed to keep you safe, and he didn’t. i’m scared it’s gonna happen again.” letting out a noise close to a growl, peter stands up from the bed. “you’re not listening to me, y/n. everything was fine. i just-“ you’re not in the mood to hear him make excuses, so you interrupt.

“do you know any other sixteen year olds who fight literal terrorists on their free time?” you rhetorically ask and get to your own feet. peter tries to walk away from you, only you follow him. “you’re a kid, peter, in case you forgot.” he spins around to give you a nasty look. “do you know any other sixteen year olds who stick to fucking walls?”

your heart starts to race from his sudden outburst. he’s scary when he’s mad, and he almost never gets mad at you. all you can do is blink dumbly. “didn’t think so,” peter spits. “this is what i’m supposed to do, help people. is that so wrong?” his breathing becomes ragged as his anger grows.

“what about you? are you helping yourself?” you speak softly, expecting an answer this time. “you’re not my fucking therapist, y/n,” he deflects the question. “i am your girlfriend, though. i care about you so much, you know that.” eyebrows furrowed in concern, you reach out for peter. he takes a step back. it doesn’t take long for tears to cloud your vision.

“i was excited to share this with you, and i thought you’d be happy for me.” peter balls his hands into fists at his sides. his voice stays low. “instead, you made it all about yourself. you can never let me enjoy team stuff.” you’re speechless, peter nodding as he lets his words sit. “thanks for the support.”

“you’re an asshole,” you laugh out bitterly and wipe under your eyes.

he didn’t mean to make you cry. he was so caught up in himself, he didn’t realize you were.

peter’s whole demeanor changes. “y/n, baby...” he attempts to put a hand on your cheek, but you hit it away. “get off of me. what did i just say?” you sniffle, your tone harsh in contrast. “you’re an asshole, peter.” he changes his mind about feeling bad. you’ve berated him way more than he did you, anyway.

“you should go. i have to be up early,” peter decides, even though he’d said you could stay the night. whatever, you don’t want to anymore. “fine,” you agree shortly. “i’m leaving.” he stands there while you collect your things, shoving them into your bag. you’re going slow enough so he has a chance to stop you. he doesn’t.

you pass by him on your way to his door, sucking in a breath. here’s your official goodbye. “see you later, peter. don’t die.” “mhm, i won’t,” he replies, his tongue poking at his cheek. with one more shared look between you two, you make your grand exit, no doubt informing may of her nephew’s behavior before you’re gone.

peter immediately regrets the way he talked to you, and that you’re leaving things like this. you were only trying to protect him. you’ll never be able to save the city like he does, so this is how you do it. he truly is an asshole for not seeing that.

frustration consuming him, peter kicks over his fully stuffed suitcase, its contents spilling out. he grits his teeth.

“fan-fucking-tastic.”

you don’t talk to peter the whole two weeks he’s gone except for some are you alive and yes texts. he’d called you quite a few times, and was sent to voicemail for all of them. he gave you the benefit of the doubt because of timezones.

it was actually because you declined, which peter knew deep down was the real reason.

he’s coming home from his mission today. you’re not sure when or if he plans on dropping by. you’re not sure you’d like him to, either. you don’t really get a choice in the end.

there’s a series of knocks at your window, at some ungodly time in the night. you’re all too familiar with this routine. it’s peter.

you slip out from under your covers, a scowl already painting your face as you go to the window. surely enough, peter is perched in front of it, clad in red and black. the suit must be new because you’ve never seen it. you push up the window and step aside so he can get through.

“thanks,” peter mumbles, climbing into your room less gracefully than usual. he’s sort of wobbly when he lands. “yeah,” you dully acknowledge. “how was france?” “uh, good. you know, lots of cheese and all that.” his voice is muffled from his mask, since he hasn’t taken it off yet. that’s odd. “i was talking about the mission, but cool,” you almost laugh back.

“the mission was... fine,” peter clarifies and scratches the back of his neck. he never describes something as simply being ‘fine.’ when the boy talks, he lectures. you’re starting to get worried. “that’s good. at least you didn’t die, right?” you say to lighten the mood. peter awkwardly chuckles. “haha, yeah. thank god for that.”

you hum and walk over to sit on your bed, peter staying where he is. “what time did you get back?” you wonder, a completely harmless question. “um, this morning,” he says in response, raising your suspicions. “why’re you still in the suit, then?” you squint at him. “i like it, by the way.” “thanks, y/n/n. i, uh,” peter trails off, no good explanations coming to mind.

you’re quickly developing a hunch for what what down. you wordlessly get up again, meeting peter by your window. he’s nervous to see what happens next. peter’s shoulders slump when your fingers land on his mask. you carefully lift it, revealing his face to you. his banged up, bloody face.

“surprise.” peter musters up a grin, you tossing the mask at his chest. you’re beyond angry now. it’s not at him, athough it is at his injuries. “please don’t be mad,” he nearly begs, you shaking your head. you go to leave your room for some space. peter’s fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back. “i should’ve listened to you, okay? i’m sorry,” he genuinely apologizes.

you still don’t say anything while you look over his beaten body. there’s a gash with stitches in it on his chin, a deep slice across the bridge of his nose, cuts littering his cheeks. he’s even got a busted lip for good measure. this might be the worst condition he’s let you see him in.

“you were right, y/n. i think... i think i’m gonna sit the next one out. it’s too much for me, clearly,” peter continues, fingers sliding down to lock with yours. “you should say you told me so.” “how... how did this happen?” you manage to get out instead. “the bad guy fought me,” he says with the hint of a smirk. “i won, though.”

it’s a relief that he’s handling this so well, even earning a laugh from you. that puts you more at ease.

“this is probably a dumb question, but are you okay?” you brush your thumb over peter’s cheekbone gently, avoiding his scratches. “not really. my face hurts a lot, and flash is gonna tease the hell out of me on monday.” his lips form a line, arms looping around your waist. it’s very much welcomed by you.

“you just spent two weeks trying not to die, and you’re worried about flash?” you snicker and draw a heart on his skin. peter shrugs a shoulder. “he’s so mean to me.” he brings you in closer to him. “besides, this is the normal kid stuff i should be focusing on.” you’re glad he finally came to terms with that. you’ve been saying it for the longest time.

you smile wickedly at him. “exactly. so is all that homework you have to make up.” peter lets out a breathy laugh, you laying your head on his chest. “i missed you,” he tells you quietly. “really wish i could kiss you right now.” “i missed you too, pete. so much,” you murmur into him. your hands settle on his biceps. “and, i forgive you.” “thanks, baby,” peter exhales.

“of course. once your lips are healed,” you pull back from his chest, making a kissing noise. “pucker up, lover- oh my god.” you’re looking up at him with wild eyes. peter gets reasonably startled from it. “what? what’s wrong?” “you... you’re bleeding!” you point at his stitches. he winces, touching the spot. there’s blood, alright.

“crap. do you have a bandaid or something?” peter gives you an apologetic smile. “mr. stark said i should cover them when this happens.” maybe, tony isn’t so bad after all. you nod and take him by his hand. “yeah, in the bathroom. come with me.”

peter sits on the edge of your bathtub while you patch up his chin. he tells you more about the fun parts of his mission, you placing the cinderella bandaid over his gash. you have those from a while ago and also regular ones. however, he preferred the princess design.

“you saw the real mona lisa? like, in person? that’s insane.” you grin, smoothing down peter’s bandaid one last time. “yeah, she’s even prettier up close.” peter returns the smile. “thanks for taking care of me, y/n. i swear i don’t deserve you sometimes.” now pouting at him, you crouch down so you’re at his level. “it’s the other way around, peter.”

“let’s just agree to disagree,” he concludes and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “i love you, okay?” “i love you, too.” you press a light kiss to his bandaid, getting a giggle from peter.

yeah, it’s going to be hell finding replacements for his lips.

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut

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allsassnoclass · 3 years ago

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dance with me

Pairing: Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 1320 Read on AO3

Summary: "Dance with me. It doesn't have to be for very long, but I want to dance with you."

Michael comes home to the gentle sound of guitar strumming. It's too soft to be a recording and too stripped-down and sweet to be any of the songs they're currently working on, and Michael can't help but smile as he kicks off his shoes and rounds the corner to the living room. Ashton is sitting on the couch, guitar in his lap and one leg propped up. His hair is pulled up into a little bun at the back of his head, a few stray curls sticking out here and there, and his shirt is one of the older ones that he cut the collar off of, worn and stretched out enough that Michael has a clear view of all the smooth skin from his neck to the slope of his shoulder.

He must have noticed the door open, because he looks over his shoulder at Michael and smiles, a small, private thing that sets everything inside him at ease. His fingers keep moving over the guitar strings in a simple picking pattern, and Michael feels more affection rush through him with the effortless way he continues playing. Ashton has always been relatively proficient at guitar, but he's mastered it more and more over the past year and the process of making his album. Michael has loved seeing his progress and watching him truly fall in love with the instrument. It makes Michael fall deeper in love with him every time he hears him play.

"Hey," Michael says, sinking down onto the couch next to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek, right where his dimple would be if he was smiling a little bit wider.

"Hi," Ashton says. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah," Michael says. "It was good to hang out with everyone all in one place. Just got a bit crowded after a while."

Ashton hums. The sun hasn't quite set yet, meaning that the party most of Michael's friends are currently attending won't slow down for a while, but Michael is already tired. He loves seeing them, especially since this is the first time they've all been able to be together for a while, but after a year of keeping mostly to the house he needs to work on rebuilding his social stamina. He doesn't want to be around people any more tonight.

Of course, Ashton doesn't count as people. Spending time with him recharges Michael more than drains him.

"How was your evening?" Michael asks. "Any writing?"

"Nope," Ashton says, still picking at the guitar strings. "Just noodling. It's okay, though. We have enough good ideas to work with already that I'm not bothered."

"Good," Michael says, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. The skin there is warm, the very faint remnants of a recent sunburn lingering despite the skin being healed. Michael leaves his lips there and breathes him in for a moment, closing his eyes and letting Ashton's presence and the guitar gently lull him.

"What do you want to do for the rest of the night?" Ashton asks. He tilts his head and gently knocks his cheek against Michael's hair. Michael smiles against his skin.

"Whatever," he says. He really means whatever, as long as I get to stay close to you, but Ashton will understand. The guitar stops, Ashton shifting as he puts it to the side. Michael leans back and watches him, then gets pulled in the next second by Ashton's hands on his back. He presses loud, smacking kisses to Michael's cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin, peppering him with affection while Michael laughs. He loves when Ashton gets like this, sweet and cuddly and playful, keeping Michael close simply because he wants to.

"Get off me, you animal!" he giggles, squirming enough to be annoying but not enough to dislodge himself. Ashton finally lands on Michael's lips, a quick peck before he pulls back to grin at him.

"Come on, give me a better kiss than that," Michael requests, leaning in again. Ashton retreats, teasing smile on his face, then gets up.

"Dance with me first," he says, holding out his hands.

"What?"

"Dance with me. It doesn't have to be for very long, but I want to dance with you."

Michael stares at his bright, infectious grin until a mirroring one breaks out on his own face. He grasps Ashton's hands and lets him pull him to his feet and into the kitchen.

"What's with you today?" Michael asks as Ashton hooks up a playlist, fingers still loosely linked with his. Gentle music starts to play through the speakers, something old-school and classic. This type of music will always remind him of Ashton, giving him claim to a sweep of genres that Michael wouldn't like as much if Ashton didn't share them with him.

"Nothing in particular," Ashton says, shrugging. He leads Michael out to the center of the kitchen, Michael's socks sliding a little on the clean tiles, and twirls him. "Just been thinking about you today, that's all."

"Yeah?" Michael asks, pressing his hand against Ashton's lower back to pull him closer. Ashton complies, giving him another kiss on his cheek.

"Yeah," Ashton says. "I'm always thinking about you, but I was thinking about us today. Me and my opposite end of the battery."

"Oh," Michael says, using the dance to hide his smile. "It's been a while since I heard that one."

Ashton has called Michael a lot of things over the years (my darling, my friend, my bandmate, my lover, my guitarist, my partner) but my opposite end of the battery is one of Michael's favorites. He likes what it implies, the closeness that comes from being part of the same machine, how they work together not despite of their differences, but because of them. He knows that some people don't quite get why they work, but Michael thinks a phrase like that tells the world everything they need to know in six little words. It's the most accurate way Michael has to describe what Ashton means to him besides simply my Ashton.

Ashton begins humming, leading them in a slow, simple circle around the room. Michael matches him step for step, always in synch with him in the ways that matter. Ashton is warm against him, and Michael takes the opportunity to twirl him under his arm just to see the way he smiles after.

"Hey," he says. "I love you."

Ashton's face splits into an even bigger smile at that, highlighting the pleased flush on his cheeks.

"Right back atcha," he says. Michael rolls his eyes teasingly as they continue their dance, letting the song switch over to a new one with a slower tempo. Ashton steps closer until they're toe to toe, swaying gently in more of a hug than a dance. Michael's heart feels full, and when Ashton finally gives him that kiss he initially requested, he thinks it could burst.

They keep dancing until the sun has set and Ashton's playlist has started repeating itself, letting the shadows in the kitchen grow longer while they stay wrapped up in each other, talking about everything or letting the quiet speak for them. Michael forgets that he had previously planned to go upstairs and decompress after the party, but this is better. By the time they do finally stop, it's only so they can transition to the bedroom, changing into pajamas and sliding under the covers together.

Ashton is still as radiant in the darkness as he was in their kitchen, glowing with the type of light that comes from perfect contentment. He traces Michael's cheekbone with his thumb, eyes soft.

"Thank you for dancing with me tonight," he says. Michael leans forward and kisses him again. He knows that Ashton understands him by the way that he smiles into it.

"I love you," he repeats when he gets the chance. Ashton simply smiles and pulls him in again.

#my writing #mashton #5sos fic #i just think that mashton deserves some fics like this you know. like just some little sweet things #let them be really really mushy!!!!!

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kkysolo · 4 years ago

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Stuck On You / Chpt. 2

Prologue / Chapter One

Pairing: Ben Solo|Kylo Ren/Reader (female) Setting: Modern AU - Cyberpunk, dystopia, gangs, best friends to lovers. Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, language, emotional reactions, classism, poverty, war, co-dependent relationships (eventual fluff, smut, romance).

A/N: Yeah, I know I said I wasn’t gonna post this story on tumblr anymore because of the anxiety posting on here causes me, but here we are in our clown shoes posting anyway. There is a major language warning for this chapter. Listen, I grew up in a pretty small town in Ireland where many of us were from poorer households and swearing as punctuation just seemed to be how we all spoke growing up. So that’s been a huge inspiration for how our characters in this story speak, though their circumstances are far more dire. Also, a very dialogue heavy chapter. Also, I tend to write in second-person omniscient, which is why you’ll see a lot of head-hopping.

Fic Summary:

The year is 2084.

Despite its advances, society has collapsed on itself. The world is crooked, damaged, dying. Rezoned into new territories, separating the elite from the unworthy. Civilization is crumbling at your very feet, and in the midst of it all, your best friend, Ben Solo, has been missing for three years. You desperately cling to what’s left of him, hoping that he’ll come home, praying that things will fall back into place.

And then he does. And they don’t. Because life is different when you’re a scoundrel in the midst of a class war.

Available under the cut, and here on AO3

You wake with a start, inhaling sharply as your eyes adjust to the morning light. It cracks through a crooked break in the rotting window shutters, the black paint has long since flaked away to expose it’s decaying wood. You yawn, nuzzling into your pillow. You relish in the quiet of mornings like these - a brief sliver of serenity, of tranquility, amidst a raging war. There’s no patrols this morning, no roar of ion engines, no gunshots, no screaming. No sound, no peep at all from the hell you’ve come to live in. Just the quiet rumble of resistance vehicles, the soothing hum of conversing pedestrians. You stretch, elongating your limbs as you turn away from the window, groggily humming as you do.

And then, you see him. And then, you scream.

The pitch of your glass-shattering screech startles him awake, and he jumps out of his sleeping position - his head resting heavily against his fist, his elbow supporting his upper body weight on the arm of one of the only two chairs you own. You scuttle backward frantically, your back hitting the wall - you couldn’t afford a headboard even if you saved. Your bed doesn’t even have a frame.

“Woah,” he grunts. “You scared the shit out of me.”

You blink. You can feel it, the panic. You know it’s coming, and you try in vain to calm your heart as it begins to race, pounding against your flesh. You can hear it in your ears, can hear the blood draining from your face. Your breathing starts to catch in your throat as your chest tightens, and you think, for a moment, that you might vomit all over your knees.

“You look like you’re going to puke,” he comments, rising from his seat. He steps closer to you, but you flinch, and your breathing only accelerates. “It’s alright, it’s just me, it’s Ben,” his tone drops to a soothing murmur as he continues his approach. “It’s just me, sunshine.”

It’s the nickname that does it, that throws you over the edge. Sobs erupt from your chest with a force, causing you to cough and choke as tears start to spurt, cascading down your cheeks and streaming past your lips. The bed dips as he appears beside you, pulling you to him, right into his chest - and the feeling, how it feels to finally have you like this again, right in front of him, your skin beneath his fingertips, your hair tickling the plains of his cheeks. The moment, this indulgent little fragment of repose, it doesn’t last. You thrash against him, shoving him away with every ounce of strength you can muster first thing in the morning.

“What the fuck, Ben?” You wail, kicking him away and scooting to the opposite side of the bed. “W-what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you to wake up,” he says - and calmly, too. Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You look at him incredulously, frantically wiping the tears from your face. Your shock is replaced by a glower.

“Where have you been,” you grit out, enunciating each word with as much venom as you can. “For the past three fucking years?”

Ben pauses, eyes falling to the floor.

“Smuggling,” he mumbles, almost too low for you to hear.

“Smuggling,” you repeat the word indignantly. “You left us. You left the Resistance, your family, me, to go and fucking smuggle?”

“It’s not that simpl-”

You cut him off. You don’t care if it’s not that simple. Everything is that simple.

“Well what the fuck are you smuggling?” “Just weapons at first, but now with the whole alcohol thing-” “Jesus, Ben, how the fuck did you end up in this mess?” “The Knights of Ren-” “The Kni- the fucking bounty hunters? The fucking gang? Are you fucking for real?” “They fucking found me on the outer rim on that mission with a top tier warrant on my head!” “And?”

“Wh-” Ben looks at you incredulously, mouth half hanging open. “What the fuck do you mean ‘and’? They cut me a deal, I work for them, they don’t hand me over to the Empire.”

“Work for them? What, you’re hunting bounties, now? Picking us off?”

Ben shifts backward in surprise, a hand running through his raven hair. It’s longer now, than it used to be.

“No, Jesus. The deal was that I bring in their credits. I smuggle whatever they want me to, I do whatever they want me to - they keep me away from the Empire, and they leave the Resistance alone.” “Sounds like a sweet fucking deal, bet you’re living the life of luxury,” you fold your arms across your chest, sniffling quietly.

“Well, I made them enough fucking credits,” he makes a gesture of exasperation with his hands. “But I don’t get a cut. Them leaving you alone is payment enough, as far as they’re concerned. They lose a lot of fucking money not picking up your bounties,” he pauses for a moment, his eyes that had settled on the ground now snap up to meet yours. “Do you know you’ve got a second tier warrant on you?”

You ignore him. Of course you know.

“I can’t believe that’s what you were doing, that that’s where you were.” “I was staying alive,” “We needed you.” “And what fucking use would I have been to anyone dead?” He roars, and you jump only slightly. “What fucking use am I to you if I’m dead?” “You were as good as, you dick.” “I always knew I was coming back,” he tries to settle his temper. “I couldn’t have left you forever.” “You left for long enough, didn’t you, though? Because we didn’t know you were coming back.” “I couldn’t-” “You could have fucking called!” You shriek. “I texted your stupid fucking phone every fucking time I thought of you, which was all the damn time.” “I know,” he murmurs. “I got them. Your voicemail, too.”

You can’t help the whimper that escapes you. It feels somewhat like your whole life has just shattered around you.

“I fucking hate you,” you sob. “I absolutely fucking hate you.”

“No,” Ben murmurs, and he reaches for you again. You swat at him. “You don’t, sunshine. You know you don’t.”

“I do,” you cry. But Ben shakes his head again, and you don’t even see, don’t even notice that he’s crying, that he’s been crying.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” he whispers. “Please,” and he tries again - arms winding around your waist as he pulls you to him, sliding you onto his lap. You don’t resist this time. Your head lolls against his chest as you cry, and cry and cry and cry until it feels like your throat is coated in splinters. And he holds you like that, while your hands clutch at his shirt, bunching it in your fists, and he rocks you gently. Humming softly as his own tears drip down onto your scalp. Humming a song - that song. Your song.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

_______________________________________________________________________

“She can’t see me,” Ben toys with his coffee cup. He sits, hunched over at your kitchen table - if you can call a decaying wooden crate with two chairs as much. “She can’t know.”

“You’re not gonna tell your own mother that you’re alive?” You’re standing at the counter, watching him from a safe distance. Your anger, your fury has simmered, but hasn’t dissipated. “What the fuck has happened to you?”

“I’m not supposed to be here,” he grits, grinding his teeth. You’ve always hated when he does that. The noise of it would wake you during the night when you’d both shared a closet-sized bedroom some years ago. You’d shared a damp mattress, too. Mold ridden and lumpy and cold.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

“Then why did you?”

Ben rolls his eyes.

“What fucking good is it explaining anything to you? You don’t listen.” “I’ve been listening.”

“Well, you’re not fucking hearing me, then,” he mumbles, focusing his attention on your feet instead of your face. He’s irritated, irate with himself for thinking this would be easy - that you’d leap into his arms without a second thought. Because really, you’ve always been this way. Stubborn, unyielding. The two things he’s always so deeply admired about you are now serving only to undermine his feeble plan.

“Even if you did want to tell her, she’s leaving on a mission today.” “And dad?” “Going with her,” you sip at your own coffee. It tastes of used filters. “You know Han doesn’t let her go alone.”

Ben nods solemnly, twirling his cup in his hands.

“I came for you,” he murmurs. “That’s why I’m here.” “For me?”

“I needed to see you,” his voice drops an octave, and it trembles only slightly as he speaks. “And I can keep you safe.”

You scoff. The concept of safety has been long lost on you. For years now, you’ve endured, survived - but you’ve lost sleep, jumping awake at the sound of an ion engine. You’ve lost blood, lost hair, lost half your sanity simply trying to stay alive.

“There’s no safety, not here, not anywhere.”

“I can keep you safe,” he springs up from his seat, knocking his empty cup over as he does. “But you need to trust me.”

“What about your parents? Your friends?”

He’s inches from you now, biting at his lip in that way that he does, the way that makes them red raw and swollen. He’s determined, adamant that this will work - that you’ll hear him, that you’ll come with him. He needs to know that the past three years haven’t been in vain, that they haven’t been for nothing, that his work, his fucking slavery meant something.

“My parents don’t need my help, you know that as well as I do,” he murmurs, his voice dropping deeper. “They’re untouchable. You aren’t.”

“None of us are.”

“You’re my priority,” he insists, and the power he holds with his stance, his figure that looms over you alone almost convinces you of it - that you are.

“Didn’t feel like that when you fucking disappeared,” you grumble, not stepping back when he moves closer. “And I don’t see how you’re going to be able to protect me. Ben Solo the smuggler, what hold do you have on the Empire?”

He cocks an eyebrow, his honey eyes twinkling as a soft smirk forms on his lips - and all you can think of is trouble, because that smirk, those eyes - they’ve never led to anything good.

“Ben Solo? Nothing,” he shrugs. “Kylo Ren, though? Everything.”

#gonna go run off and drown myself in gin now #god i hate posting dslkjf #i hope you like this so far guys #eek #my writing #stuck on you #kylo ren #ben solo #kylo ren x reader #ben solo x reader #kylo ren x you #ben solo x you #cw: language #cw: emotional reactions

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prettyboybarzal · 5 years ago

Text

tattoos together (3) // tyler seguin

(PART ONE) (PART TWO)

pairing: tyler seguin x reader

summary: being in dallas with tyler feels exactly right, but it’s not reality and both of you know it. with your trip coming to an end in just a few short days, you and tyler struggle to come to terms with whatever it is between you.

(2016 dallas stars and 2/3 of tyler’s dogs, apologies if some details aren’t accurate about the stars season. i was too lazy to do my research.)

word count: 9k+ (she a lil thicc)

author’s note: you know the drill... like, reblog, shoot me a message. ((hopefully part 4 will be up next sunday, but first i gotta write it)) xoxo love y’all!!!!

warnings: more alcohol, angst (???), def cursing

The rest of your time at Casa de Seguin, as Tyler keeps calling it, is packed full of things to do. He seems to have a plan for every second of every day. While you appreciate the thoughtfulness, it feels like the two of you haven’t been alone and lazy together like the old days and you miss it.

Tyler misses it, too, but the idea of the two of you being alone again brings him to places he knows he can’t go with you.

Three days before your flight, Tyler is making breakfast with the dogs at his feet. When you enter the kitchen, he smiles over at you before stating, “I haven’t planned anything for today. I was thinking maybe we could go to the Rangers game tonight?”

You don’t respond off the bat, leaning against the counter. The lack of a response has him glancing over with a raised eyebrow.

“Ty, we haven’t stopped moving for days,” you state. “And, don’t get me wrong, I love how much we’ve done. I feel like I know Dallas and Texas like the back of my hand. However, we’re constantly surrounded by people and fans and friends of yours, especially Jamie. I just want one day with just you, and the boys.”

You and the boys. Tyler loves the sound of that coming out of your mouth. The dogs do, too. They turn their heads at the inflection of your voice when you referenced them and Cash comes trotting over to plop at your feet. Tyler glances over with a smile and nods.

“Alright, how about this?” he asks. He turns the heat on the stove off and moves the frying pan over to let the eggs simmer. “We go to the dog park with them and then we can come back and just hang out back. I’ll grill up some burgers for lunch or something.”

“That sounds perfect,” you admit. Tyler smiles. “Need help with breakfast?”

“Can you put on a pot of coffee?”

You nod, moving to grab two mugs from his cabinet before brewing it. The two of you work in silence, backs to each other, but you keep stealing glances at him as he puts together your plates and throws some bread in the toaster.

You pour the coffee into each mug, asking Tyler if he still takes his black (the answer is yes), and hand his mug to him. He shoos you away to the dining table so that he can present the food to you in a dramatic fashion.

He glides into the room with a plate in each hand and does a little spin before putting the plates down on the table. The dogs are waiting eagerly for something to drop, but Tyler pulls the spin move off elegantly. He sits across from you and announces in an atrocious French accent, “Bon appetite.”

Marshall and Cash lose their minds when Tyler pulls their leashes from the closet. Marshall hears it from another room and comes running at the sound, practically knocking you on your ass in the process. Tyler attaches each leash to their collars and hands Cash’s over to you.

When you get to the park it’s almost empty, save for a family or two. You walk through the gates and unleash the boys who immediately start chasing each other around the open space.

Tyler nods towards a bench and sits down, tugging on your hand to pull you down beside him. You lean forward with your elbows on your thighs and rest your head in your hand, watching the dogs play. Tyler leans back against the back of the bench. He reaches out and rubs a hand on your back before pulling it away to pick up a ball by his feet. He whistles once and calls, “Cash, Marshall!”

The dogs come running, tripping over each other as they approach. Tyler smiles and throws the ball, sending them the opposite direction. You giggle as Cash gets to it first and comes running back, Marshall chasing him the entire way.

Cash drops the ball at your feet, so you grab it before Marshall can snatch it up and toss it again.

The whole day is so domestic. Making breakfast together, bringing the dogs to the dog park, having barbeque plans for lunch. It’s so domestic that it makes your cheeks burn with a blush you haven’t felt in a long time.

Tyler feels it, too.

Back at home, Tyler is quick to change for the pool. It’s hot and by the time you’ve gotten back to the house Tyler is all sweaty from wrestling the dogs. You change into your suit in the guest room where you’ve been staying the entire trip. The suit is a new bikini and before heading out you make sure to lather the tattoo with sunscreen.

Tyler’s mouth goes dry when you exit the back door of his house and step out in your tiny, bright red bikini. He’s thankful for the dogs and his sunglasses because the combination of the two things make it seem like he isn’t staring at you, but trust… He most certainly is.

“Want a beer?”

“Yeah, sure,” he answers. You turn and walk back into the house, amazingly not feeling the weight of his gaze on you despite the fact that he can’t stop staring at your ass.

You return with two beers in your hands and sit at the edge of the pool with your feet in. You hand Tyler his bottle with a soft smile as Cash settles beside you on the brick. Tyler taps the neck of your bottle with his.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Tyler says. He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a swig. “Otherwise I’d have to leave the pool myself to get the beers.”

You splash water at him with a kick of the foot, but he dodges it.

You stand again, retrieving your towel from a lounge chair to spread it out beside the pool. Tyler watches you situate yourself, smiling to himself at the sight. He sees the tattoo from a far, but he wishes he could get a better look.

Cash comes over to curl up against your legs and soak up the sun with you. You smile down at the dog as Tyler chuckles at the scene playing out in front of him.

“I think Cash is in love with you,” he says. “I can’t say I blame him.”

About an hour and a few beers later, Tyler reaches out of the water with his cold and soaking hands to grab your ankles. He tugs on them, attempting to make you come into the water with him. You kick his hand away, sending him an irritated face. He pouts at you and begs, “Come in please.”

“Why?” you ask tersely. “I’m tanning.”

“You’ve been tanning for hours now,” he complains. You roll your eyes, sitting up so that you’re on your elbows to get a better look at him. “Just come in.”

“The only way you’re getting me to come in is if you make me,” you inform him. What a stupid thing to say to Tyler Seguin. He smiles at the challenge and climbs out of the pool, towering over you so that his body blocks the sun. You immediately realize where you fucked up and murmur, “Why did I say that?”

Without another word, Tyler reaches down and grabs both your arms until you’re standing in front of him. He wraps his arms around your waist, picks you up off the ground, and tosses you into the pool. He jumps in a second after to join you.

When you pop up above the surface, your hair is matted over your face. You reach up to wipe it away while you catch your breath, but Tyler’s hand is already moving to do it for you. He pulls the hair out of your face, revealing the glare you reserved just for him. He chuckles and wraps an arm around your waist to keep you close to him.

“I don’t know why I always challenge you like you won’t follow through,” you admit, throwing your arms around his shoulders. Tyler laughs. You wrap your legs around his waist and the laughter stops almost immediately as it gets caught in his throat. You reach one hand up to run your fingers through his hair. He drops his head to your shoulder to give you better access.

“Would you hate it if I was planning to have a party tomorrow night?” Tyler asks. His face is tilted so that his lips ghost the skin on your neck as he speaks. You lean your head on his, trying to ignore the goosebumps on your arms, trying to blame them on the breeze.

“For me?”

“Yeah, like a goodbye and I’ll see you soon party,” he states. He pulls away to look up at you. “I’ll totally cancel it if you don’t want it to happen.”

“No, that’s okay,” you answer. “It’ll be nice to go out with a bang.”

Another hum rumbles in his chest. He stands in the shallow end, you wrapped around him, for a few more silent minutes. Your fingers run through his hair, stopping at the nape of his neck to twirl the longer pieces around your index finger. The hand not wrapped around your body reaches up to your ribs. Tyler looks at his fingers as he brushes them over your tattoo and then he lets out a hefty sigh.

“I keep forgetting that this isn’t my real life,” he mumbles. Your fingers stop moving in his hair. He shifts slightly and places a kiss to your collarbone before he pulls his arms away and you drop your legs from his waist. “Want another beer?”

Your response comes out in the form of a whisper, “That’d be great.”

Tyler gets out of the pool and grabs a towel to dry himself before heading back up to the house for the beers. The dogs follow closely behind leaving nothing to distract you from your thoughts and Tyler’s words keep playing on repeat in your head.

Once the sun sets, you’re all showered and ready for dinner. Tyler’s busy with the dogs and getting his own self comfortable that you have a few minutes to yourself. You’re sitting at the end of the bed in the guest room in a pair of joggers and one of Tyler’s sweatshirts when Dan texts to see if you’re around to talk. You call him right away, realizing that the two of you hadn’t spoken on the phone since your first night in Dallas.

“Hey, babe,” he greets. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you murmur. You lay back and stare at the ceiling with the phone pressed to your ear. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” he answers. “A little swamped at work. I wish I was coming home to you.”

“I’ll be home in two days!”

“I can’t wait.”

There’s a moment of silence that makes your stomach upset. You know the next time you are home with Dan is going to be nothing like the last times you’ve been at home with him. For one, California is calling. And, on the other hand, you’re so absolutely fucking in love with Tyler that it makes you a little bit sick.

Dan’s voice brings you back down to Earth as he asks, “What are you doing now?”

“Well, I just showered,” you explain. “Now I’m waiting for dinner to get here.”

“What’s the plan for dinner?”

“We ordered Chinese,” you answer. “Gonna go sit out by the fire pit and eat.”

“Sounds perfect,” he muses. When you don’t respond, he gets restless. “Are you okay? You don’t sound like yourself.”

You don’t mean for it to come out without a second thought, but your conscience feels way too guilty to keep this charade up for three more days. You blurt out, “I was offered a job at a publishing house in California before I left for Dallas. I accepted it.”

“I’m happy for you, YN,” he says. Although those words come out of his mouth, you can tell he doesn’t mean it. He’s confused by what this means. “Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t even know you were applying out there.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you answer. “It’s just that I’ve been coming up empty in Boston and New York and I went to that conference last month where they said California is a hot spot right now for people looking to go into publishing.”

“So, you’re moving to California?”

“Yes,” you answer, running a hand over your face in frustration. “The job starts on July 15th.”

“That’s in like three weeks,” Dan says. “That’s so soon.”

“I know.”

“I wish you told me.” It’s so silent on his end of the phone that you can hear Tyler talking to the dogs across the house. You stand up and start to pace the room. “What does this even mean for us?”

“Um, I don’t think I’m interested in doing long-distance,” you tell him. He sighs. “I really am sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this over the phone.”

“I mean, I definitely would’ve preferred a face-to-face conversation,” he admits. “But I did ask why you didn’t sound like yourself.”

“Dan, I’m sorry,” you murmur. He lets out a soft chuckle. “I wanted to wait until I got home, but I feel guilty doing that.”

“Hey, listen, I understand.”

“What?”

“I get it,” he repeats. “I know that it’s been a bitch for you to find a job. I’m just happy you found one.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m assuming we’re going to break up?” he asks. “Long distance doesn’t sound appealing to me either.”

“Yeah, I think that would be best for both of us,” you state. He hums in agreement. You let out a long sigh. “Dan, I didn’t want to do it like this.”

“I know that,” he says. “It’s just the way some things come up. In the moment.”

“Why are you so good?”

“Well, if we’re being honest,” he starts. “I think we both knew we weren’t in it for the long run. Don’t get me wrong, I really like you. You’re beautiful and funny and smart, but you’ve never been in this for real. I know that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he presses. “We had fun, but it wasn’t meant to last. We were just trying to force it to work.” When you fail to answer him once more, Dan sighs and says, “Listen, let me know when you’re back. I’ll come by and pick up the stuff I left.”

“Okay, I’ll text you,” you respond. “Again, I’m sorry that I’m doing this over the phone.”

“It’s alright,” he states. “Text me when you want me to swing by. Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

Usually, you’d cry. You’d feel guilty for ending a relationship that never had any blow up. But, this break up feels like a weight off your shoulders. You lay down in the bed for a while, taking some time to yourself to just think, until Tyler calls for you to join him for dinner.

No more than two hours later, you’re sitting on one end of the sectional in Tyler’s living room watching Titanic. It’s been on for thirty minutes and you haven’t been paying attention one bit. Tyler’s sitting a few cushions away, his legs stretched out towards you so that his socked feet are inches from your thigh.

Dinner is long gone, empty cartons in the garbage, and the fire in the yard is out. Now, it’s just the two of you with Marshall curled up against Tyler and Cash sitting beside your feet.

“Why are you off right now?” Tyler asks, nudging your thigh with his foot. “Where’s your head at?”

“A million and one places,” you answer. Tyler grabs the remote and pauses the television. His abrupt movement alerts the dogs. He smirks at them, patting Marshall’s head to get him to put his head back down and turns his attention back to you.

“Explain.”

“I’ve just been thinking about what you said in the pool,” you elaborate. “About how this isn’t your real life, or mine.” Tyler sits up, but doesn’t say a word. He didn’t realize the statement would even resonate with you like it clearly has. “I just don’t want to go back to reality.”

“How come?”

“Reality means packing up my entire apartment, apartment hunting in California, starting a new job, being away from my family and my friends for a long time,” you list off. Tyler scratches the side of his head. “Besides, reality doesn’t have Marshall, or Cash, or you.”

You don’t hear it, but Tyler’s breath hitches in his throat.

“It’s not a big deal,” you continue. “Once I get back into the swing of things I’ll be fine.”

“You know you always have me around,” he states. “I might be a few states away, but I am always one call or text away.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Is that all?”

You debate telling him about your phone call with Dan, but decide against it. Instead, you nod ‘yes’ before crawling down to his side of the couch and laying your head on his chest. Tyler shifts, wrapping an arm around your back to keep you close to him. Then, he grabs the remote and turns the movie back on.

You don’t start paying attention, but having your face in his chest keeps him from noticing. His fingers trace soothing patterns along your back and after a little while your eyes start fluttering shut. It doesn’t take long for your breathing to slow and you fall asleep against Tyler.

“YN,” he whispers not long after. “You fell asleep.”

“Hi,” you grumble. He chuckles as you lift your head with your hair matted to your cheek. “Morning.”

“Ready for bed?” he asks. You nod, crawling off his body to stand. He shuts the TV off and fixes the throw pillows that had been tossed to the side hours before. Before heading down the hall, he whistles for the dogs to follow him. They do, and so do you.

You walk a few steps behind him toward the guest room, but stop at the door as Tyler continues walking.

“Can we have a sleepover tonight?” you ask from the threshold of your room. Tyler spins on his heel. “It’s okay if not.”

“You can totally come sleepover,” he answers. “But does that mean I have to sleep with a shirt on tonight?”

You roll your eyes at him.

Tyler stays true to himself and remains shirtless for bed. When you walk into his room after brushing your teeth, he’s leaning up against the headboard and tinkering away with his phone. He glances up at you, taking in the sight of you in his baggy sweatshirt and your grey joggers. You look so cozy that it makes his heart beat a little bit faster.

“Mom says hi,” he says. You smile. “She wants to know why you haven’t visited her with me.”

“Tell Mom that I say hi,” you counter. “And that I am a stressed out post-grad who struggles to visit her own family and they live twenty minutes away.”

Tyler laughs, typing out exactly what you said, and sending it. But, he also texts her: Plus, she just got a big girl job in LA. Busy times for Ms. YLN… I’m excited for her.

Tyler locks his phone and places it down on the bed side table, then reaches for yours and does the same. You slide into bed beside him, leaving a good chunk of space between your bodies. The dogs take your entrance into bed their cue to join. They fill up the space between you and Tyler.

“How am I supposed to cuddle you now?” Tyler asks. His lips are in a pout. He sits up again and shoos Marshall and Cash down the bed to your feet, then reaches out to pull you in. You scooch over without protesting and drop your head to his bare chest. His hand falls into your hair, fingers brushing through the knots gathered at the nape of your neck.

“Thank you for having me here.”

“Thank you for coming.”

It’s almost been exactly three years since the last time you shared a bed. It’s amazing how time has changed so many things, but hasn’t changed how easy this feels.

Tyler’s phone buzzes twenty minutes later after you’ve already fallen asleep. He reaches over without moving too much to avoid disturbing you. There’s an unread text from his mom: She’s making her way closer to you, huh? That’s good.

You wake up before Tyler the next morning. It seems like neither of you moved all night. Tyler’s still on his back, one arm around your body to keep you curled against him. It’s a struggle to leave the bed without waking him, but you manage to do it anyway.

You eat a bowl of cereal with Cash at your feet, then brew coffee to bring to Tyler in bed. The moment you walk in, the smell stirs his senses. He lifts his head, peaking an eye open to see you place the mug on his bed side table.

“I just ate some cereal,” you tell him. “I’m going to head out to the pool. Meet me out there?”

“Thanks,” he mumbles. He sits up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed, and picks up the coffee as you head out of the room to change into your suit. Cash follows you the entire way, plopping himself on your bed as you throw on the one piece you’d brought in addition to the bikini, not wanting to waste your day worrying about your tattoo.

When you leave the room, with towel in hand, Cash trots over to follow you. You pass the kitchen on the way out and see Tyler standing at the stove. His back is to you, toned and strong and begging to be touched by you. Okay, maybe not, but your hands want to touch it badly. Tyler hears you as you tug the sliding door open and glances over with a fond smile at the way Cash is still following you around.

Outside, you lay your towel on the bit of grass a few feet from the pool and collapse onto it. The sun is bright and warm against your skin and Cash is soft against your legs.

Tyler joins you about fifteen minutes later in a bathing suit with a towel of his own. Instead of jumping right into the pool with Marshall, he comes over and lays his towel down next to you. He plops himself down, inches from your face and smiles widely at you.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Tyler situates himself to lay on his stomach, like you, and keeps his face turned toward yours. His eyes scan down your body, taking in the black bathing suit that cuts low on your back. He looks back up, not so subtly licking his lips, before saying, “I like this suit.”

Around lunch, Tyler’s been in the pool so long that his fingers are starting to prune. He pulls himself out long enough to make sandwiches for lunch. You follow him into the kitchen to help.

The two of you put together an assembly line of sorts with bread, cold cuts, cheeses, and condiments all laid out on the counter. Tyler starts, handing you a plate so you can create a sandwich beside him. You bump his hip with your own and he smiles down at you as he spreads mustard across his bread. He bumps you back with a little too much force, sending you stumbling to the right. Tyler barks out a laugh and grabs you by the waist to keep you upright, again with too much force.

“Are you trying to kill me?” you ask as you hit his chest with a thud. “You forget how much larger you are then me.”

Tyler looks down at you against his chest, takes one glance at how large his hand looks against your bare back, and grins. He leans his face a bit closer and states, “Trust me, I don’t forget.”

He releases you from his grip and continues down the line without another word.

Jamie shows up around dinner time with steaks to grill up. He’s dressed in a button up and some khaki shorts with boat shoes, hair done. You’re still out back in your bathing suits when he arrives. You two didn’t even know he was on the way to the house, or that he arrived. He just walks out the back door and hollers at you, “What the hell are you two still doing out here? I’ve been calling you both for the past thirty minutes.”

A look of concern passes over Tyler’s face. He asks, “How’d you get in?”

“I still have your spare.”

“I need that back!” Tyler exclaims. “I’ve been looking for it forever.”

“It’s on the counter,” Jamie says. He holds up the steaks in his hand and smiles. “Ready for dinner?”

“I’m starving,” you answer. You climb out of the pool, patting Cash on the head as you make your way up to the deck. You pass Jamie on the way into the house. “I saw some French fries in your freezer, so I’ll go make those.”

Tyler stays out at the grill with Jamie, despite how many times Jamie yells at him to, “Put a fucking shirt on, dude. I don’t need you breathing on me while you’re shirtless and wet!”

Cash and Marshall tangle themselves up at your feet while you cook, the promise of French fries far too good for them to pass up. And, yes, you do give them one or two, even though Tyler keeps fat shaming Cash.

You toss Cash a fry and smile when he hops up to catch it. Crouching down to pat him on the head, you say, “You’re beautiful. Don’t let Daddy tell you otherwise.”

“Daddy, huh?” Tyler’s voice makes you jump. You assumed he was still at the grill because you never even heard the sliding glass door open. There’s a shit eating grin on his face as he leans up against the counter, arms crossed, and stares at you. “I never thought I’d get the chance to hear you call me that.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you murmur. You stand upright, rolling your eyes at that smirk on his face before turning back to finish dumping the fries in a bowl. Tyler steps over to you and reaches up to the cabinet above your head. His hand drops to your back, right above the place where your suit starts, just above your ass.

He’s so close you can smell the chlorine on his skin, you can feel the body heat coming off him and his freshly tanned skin. He grabs a serving plate and pulls it down, tapping your head lightly with it on the way down. Then, his hand falls away and he’s walking back out of the room.

After dinner, Tyler and Jamie run out to grab alcohol for the night. People aren’t planning to come until 10 p.m., so you have a lot of time to relax and get ready. As soon as the boys leave to run their last-minute errands, you hop in the shower and admire the fresh tan you’ve acquired over the past two days on the way out.

For the next thirty minutes, you stare at the mass of clothes piled onto the guest bed. You hadn’t realized how much you packed for this trip until this moment. You look through them, pulling out a pair of funky light wash jeans and a few cropped tops. You shove the rest of the clothes back into your suitcase with no plans to fold them. That’ll be a Boston issue.

You put the pants on and stand in the mirror to check your butt out. Then, you rotate each shirt to see which one you like the best. You’ve grown slightly obsessed with your new tattoo, so you find yourself gravitating to the shirts that will show it off. That’s why you end up settling on a long sleeve, black shirt that stops just a few inches below your boobs.

You sit on the floor in front of the floor length mirror in the guest room and put your make-up on, cursing the low lighting the entire time. You don’t spend too much time on it tonight, just highlighter, mascara, a light eye shadow, and some lip gloss.

The boys come home and you can hear Tyler’s shower starting, followed by his awful shower singing voice.

You stand and check yourself out in the mirror once more. Your tattoo is completely visible and looks beautiful. You trace a finger along the lines with a satisfied smile.

You find Jamie out in the living room. He’s watching a baseball game on mute and turns when he hears your bare feet against the hardwood floor. He checks your outfit out and lets out a low whistle before complimenting, “You look good, dude.”

“Why, thank you!”

“And that tattoo!” he exclaims once he sees it. He stands up and walks around the couch, crouching a little once he gets closer to you to take a better look. “Seguin did good.”

“I agree.”

“Are you bummed you’re leaving tomorrow?” Jamie asks as he steps back and sits on the arm of the sofa, folding his hands in his lap.

“Yeah, it sucks,” you admit. “But, I think it’s good. I was getting way too comfortable here.”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“This isn’t where my life is,” you answer. “It’s just a vacation that feels really, really normal.”

“You should just move here.”

“I can’t spend my whole life following Tyler around.”

“Why not?”

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Quite frankly, it’s a good question, but you ignore it regardless and retreat to the kitchen with a roll of your eyes.

Tyler suggested making a jungle juice type of punch for the party and, sure enough, he followed through with the alcohol and the fruits to make it. He pulled out a punch bowl for you, too, so you start making it to the sounds of the now unmuted Rangers game.

When Tyler finally comes out of his room, he’s dressed in a tight black t-shirt and a pair of black jeans that make you a little light headed. He doesn’t look in your direction at first, the Rangers game capturing his attention the moment he steps into the room.

“Good game?” he asks. He sits beside Jamie and pulls his shoes on, then leans forward to continue watching. There’s another few seconds of silence. “Where’s YN?”

“Right here, dumbass,” you call out. Tyler looks over at you. You’re still not facing him, having only glanced over at him to see him enter the room. He hops off the couch and sidles up beside you, one arm wrapping around your shoulder to watch you stir some liquor into the bowl. His cologne floats to your nose. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you,” he says. He plants a kiss to your right temple and then drops his arm to grab beer from the fridge. He places one beside you, passing you on the way over to Jamie with a soft touch to your hip.

He can’t stop looking over at you. One second he’s completely zoned into the game and the next he’s turning his head to look at you again. Jamie catches on almost immediately and attempts to ignore it. But, after the fifth time Tyler glances over, Jamie smacks a pillow into Tyler’s chest and knocks the wind out of his lungs.

“What the fuck?” Tyler yelps. He yanks the pillow from Jamie and smacks him back.

“Ladies!” you exclaim. They look up at you with boyish smirks. “At least take your clothes off before having a pillow fight.”

“Don’t objectify me,” Tyler warns. Jamie snickers, mumbling under his breath, “You’d love it if she objectified you.”

Before either you or Tyler can respond, the doorbell is ringing and Cash and Marshall are running to it. Thus, the wave of partygoers makes their way into the house. You don’t know a single person in the crowd other than Jamie and Tyler, but everyone seems nice enough. There are a few guys, teammates you assume, that make a point to introduce themselves.

“Tyler always talks about you,” one of them, who you’re almost certain is named John, notes. “Sometimes it feels like the best thing that happened to him in Boston wasn’t the Stanley Cup, it was you.”

That’s not the only comment like that, but you try not to dwell on the others longer than necessary. These aren’t feelings you want to feel right now, not when your flight is a mere 18 hours away.

It doesn’t take long for the house to fill up and you soon find that it’s packed from wall to wall. The influx of guests has separated you from the two boys you feel most comfortable with and you’re desperate to find at least one of them. People are out by the pool, crowded around a folding table in the living room, sitting around the island in the kitchen. Everywhere you go you find people, but you can’t find the party host.

“Hey,” Jamie calls out to you. He’s sitting on the counter, a girl you’ve never met before between his legs. “You look lost.”

“Where’s Tyler?”

“Out back, maybe?” Jamie answers. He grits his teeth in a silent apology. “Do you want me to come look for him with you?”

“No,” you state after noticing his arm snake around the girl’s waist. You smile at them. “I’ll find him.”

You step out to the yard and find Tyler sitting at the table by the pool with a group of guys that had come in with your new friend, John. One of them taps his arm and nods up to you. Tyler looks over and a grin spreads across his face. He motions for you to come over to him and scoots his chair back from the table as you approach.

“Where’ve you been?”

You step up to the table, lean against the back of Tyler’s chair, and answer with a laugh, “Looking for you.”

“Everyone, this is YN.”

“Oh, we know,” one of the guys speaks up. He stands and announces that he’s off to get another drink, earning a murmur of agreement amongst the other men who get up to follow him. “Nice meeting you, YN. See you two inside.”

Once they’re on the way to the house, Tyler reaches up and tugs on your hand. You let him guide you to stand in front of him. You situate yourself between his knees, reaching up to cup both of his cheeks in your hands. He leans into your palm, staring up at you with his puppy dog eyes, and says, “Hi.”

“Hey,” you retort. He reaches up and grips your hips, pulling you into his lap. You wrap your arms around his shoulders in response, melting into the way one of his hands slides up your thigh and the other settles against your lower back. “When you said you were throwing a party, I didn’t expect this.”

“Too much?”

“No,” you answer. “I just didn’t think you had so many friends.” Tyler throws his head back in laughter and you smile at the reaction adoringly. You run one of your hands through his hair and tell him, “I like John.”

“Klingberg?”

“Yeah, he’s nice,” you state. Tyler chuckles softly. “Told me that people wouldn’t even know you won the Stanley Cup in Boston because all you talk about is me.”

“He said that?” Tyler asks, jaw slightly ajar. You nod. He drops his forehead to your shoulder with a loud groan. “Why would he say that? They love chirping me.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m very flattered,” you tell him. “I like to think that my friendship is a little more valuable to you than a large, silver trophy that too many mouths have touched.”

“I mean,” he murmurs. “Both are pretty fucking great.” Tyler leans back and stares at you as you watch the dogs chase each other in the grass. His fingers trail up and down your forearm, giving you goosebumps that he notices right away. “When am I going to see you again?”

You look back at him, tilting your head as you think about the answer. You state, “I’m not really sure.”

“I hate that answer.”

“Well, I need to get settled in Cali,” you answer. His eyes study your face as you talk, falling to your lips more than any other feature. “And you’re going to Canada after I leave to have some family time. Then, you’re going to be back here for the season.”

“And I have a feeling my California road trip isn’t until like halfway through the season,” he grunts. “Maybe I can come around the holidays? Or you can visit for Thanksgiving or something?”

“We’ll figure it out,” you promise. He nods. “We always do.”

Tyler squeezes your thigh lightly and, in response, you pinch the skin at the nape of his neck playfully. It feels so peaceful out in the backyard that it’s easy to forget the party inside. Once again, you’re wrapped up in your own little world with him. He runs his fingers along the back of your top, then down your spine. He looks down at your outfit again and then looks up at your eyes with a smile and says, “You look really good.”

“Tyler!” a shrill voice calls from the deck. Tyler almost winces when it shatters the moment between the two of you. “Come inside! We’re playing Thunderstruck!”

“Coming!” he responds before dropping his head against your shoulder again with a sigh. The hand that has been resting on your lower back trails up to the nape of your neck, scratching the back of your head lightly before dropping again. He taps your thigh to get you to stand and then takes your hand in his on the way back up to the house.

Thunderstruck did its job and, after it was over, everyone was on their way to lowered inhibitions and stupidity. Soon after, Tyler and Jamie were ripping shots with their teammates. They even managed to talk you into a few. Tyler’s fingers lingered a little too long on your back at the top of your jeans, but he never made it known that he knew what he was doing. He’s just drunk, touchy Tyler.

More people show up, this time a group of girls dressed like they’re going to a club. They’re beautiful and flock over to the boys as soon as they enter. They embrace all the guys like they’re old friends. It feels odd to be looking in at a moment like this. It’s a look at Tyler’s real life, the people he spends most of his time with nowadays.

Tyler gives a quick introduction to the girls for you and they’re friendly enough, but you can tell they’re wondering who you are and why you’re here. Then, one of them wraps her hand around Tyler’s elbow and tugs him away. He sends you a quick glance before going with her willingly to the corner of the kitchen.

“That’s Kelsie,” Jamie informs you. “They sleep together, occasionally.”

“I think I could’ve figured that out on my own,” you grunt. Jamie chuckles. “She’s pretty.”

“Yeah, but she’s kind of a bitch,” he murmurs. You smack him on the stomach. “I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

You take one last fleeting glance at the two of them in the corner. Tyler’s hand rests against the counter beside her hip and they’re both leaning into each other, smiling as they talk about whatever it is they could possibly be talking about. She giggles, tapping his arm lightly.

“Do you want to play beer pong?” you ask Jamie. He nods with a knowing smile and leads you out to the living room.

You’re bad at beer pong. It’s a known fact. Yet, Jamie carries the team enough for you to run the table for three or four games. Each time you finish a drink, John Klingberg goes to grab another for you. You’re steady on your feet, but you know that you’re drunker than you feel. Eventually, you and Jamie lose the spot at the table when two of his teammates beat you.

Jamie gives you a tight squeeze after you shake hands with the boys on the other end for playing a good game. Then, you step to the side and watch.

Tyler’s in the room now, but he’s sitting at the recliner on the other side. Kelsie’s still with him, sitting on the couch closest to the chair. He’s telling some elaborate story, you can tell by the way his hands are moving as he speak, and she’s giggling along with him. It makes you a little sick, sort of mad, but what are you going to do?

You think back to Dan and how easy it was to just break up with him because you knew Tyler was in the other room. Every relationship you’ve had since that kiss has meant nothing to you. You’ve been trying to date all these guys just to feel something and, yet, it hasn’t happened.

“Can I tell you something?” you ask Jamie. Your words come out a little slurred and you make a mental note to mix in a water after you have this conversation with Jamie. He furrows his eyebrows in response and nods. “I broke up with Dan yesterday.”

“What?” he asks. His eyebrows shoot up at your admission, but he leans in to have you repeat it because he’s almost certain there’s no way you just said what you said to him.

“I broke up with Dan,” you repeat. Jamie’s hands shoot out to grab you by the hips and shake you. You slap his chest lightly.

“Have you told Tyler?”

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“I didn’t want the rest of my trip to be all about the break up,” you tell him. Jamie rolls his eyes so dramatically that you’re convinced if you hit him in the back of the head they could get stuck like that.

“If you think for a second that Tyler would want to spend another minute talking about Dan, you’re out of your mind,” Jamie states. It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “I’m serious.”

“It’s so stupid,” you murmur. “I’m not telling him now. He’s with that girl.”

“He’s with that girl because he thinks you’re still with Dan.”

“Stop,” you grumble. Jamie grabs your hand and yanks you down the hallway to the guest room. He pushes you in and shuts the door behind him. “Why are we in here?”

“Because I need to talk some sense into your drunk ass.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“He’s in love with you,” Jamie declares. “The kid’s been in love with you for years and I think you’ve been in love with him just the same. This is the chance to figure it out.”

“I’m moving to California.”

“So?”

“I’m not doing long-distance,” you state. Jamie run a hand through his hair, face red in frustration.

“You two already do long-distance,” he argues. You shake your head. He’s right and you know it. You literally said it to Tyler the other day as a joke. “I have spent the last three years listening to him pine after you. Every single girl he’s ever been with, even if it’s only for a night, is compared to you. I’ve been a third wheel for far too long just to make sure that he doesn’t fuck up the way that he did on the Fourth of July in 2013.”

“He didn’t fuck up.”

“Well, he’s spent the better part of three years thinking that kissing you was a mistake,” Jamie says. “You’ve never talked about it with him and, although I can see the way you look at him, Tyler is way too dense to see how crazy you are about him.” He takes a breath and then says, “If nothing else, at least tell him it wasn’t a mistake. Tell him that there are feelings there for him, however small they may be. He deserves to know that it’s not a lost cause.”

You stare at Jamie, dumbfounded. He stares back, waiting for a response. After a minute of silence, you sigh and tell him, “It’s bad timing, Jamie. Tyler deserves someone to come home to and that’s not going to happen with me now, maybe not ever. Our timing has never been right, and it’s not right now. I don’t want to jump the gun and try to make this happen when I know I can’t put my all into it like I would want to.”

Jamie huffs, tossing his head back like a frustrated toddler. A groan escapes his lips just before he returns his attention to you. He shakes his head and says, “Fine. If you’re not going to talk about your feelings for him to him, then at least tell him you broke up with Dan. He is your best friend after all.”

Before you can respond, he turns to the door and reaches out for the handle. He looks back once more, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. It reads 11:30 p.m.

“You have until midnight,” he says. “And if you don’t tell him by then, I’m taking it into my hands.”

You’re way too drunk, wayyyy too drunk. You’ve lost Tyler again, as well as Jamie, so you’re in the kitchen with a glass of water hoping that it’ll sober you up enough to get through the night. You’re having a stare down with the clock on Tyler’s stove. It’s five minutes from midnight and there’s no shot you’re finding him before Jamie breaks the news.

Tyler is sitting out back in a lounge chair on the deck with Kelsie by his feet. She’s rubbing her hand against his shins, listening to Tyler’s conversation with a friend. Tyler checks his phone, wondering where you’ve been and why you haven’t come looking for him. He glances over at Kelsie with an uneasy sigh.

Moments later, the door slides open and Jamie’s on the other side. He lets out a breath when he sees Tyler. Tyler looks up at him and sits up straight, swinging his feet off the lounge chair and away from Kelsie’s hand.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Jamie says as he steps out onto the deck. “Have you talked to YN?”

“No,” Tyler answers. He gets to his feet immediately, feeling a panic set in. “Where is she? Is she okay?”

“She broke up with Dan yesterday,” Jamie tells him. Tyler’s eyes widen. “She just told me.”

Tyler brushes past Jamie and storms into the house to look for you. No sign of you in the living room or down the hallway to his room, so he continues into the kitchen and finds you talking to John. Tyler approaches, grabbing your wrist to pull you away from his teammate without an apology. You stumble forward into his chest. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, bringing his lips to your ear to ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You look up at him, eyes wide, and he returns the same gaze. His hold so many questions. You sigh, running a hand up his chest to his shoulder to push away from him lightly.

“Can we talk about this later?”

“I just don’t understand why you told Jamie, but not me.”

“Later.”

Tyler’s shoulders drop and he releases you from his arms. He takes one last look at you. His face is riddled with anger, frustration, hope. He’s never felt like this before, like he has no control over a situation. And this situation, with you, is one he’s never been able to control.

Fortunately for impatient Tyler, people start clearing out about half an hour after he confronts you. He’s been doing his best to steer clear of you because, honestly, he didn’t think he could talk to you without bringing the conversation up again.

Jamie and the boys are the last to leave. They step out onto the porch with Tyler as they walk out to their Ubers, but Jamie stays a moment longer. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes.

“I’m sorry I had to tell him,” he mumbles into your hair. “I needed him to know.”

“It’s okay,” you state. “Hey, maybe I’ll be thanking you.”

“Maybe,” Jamie repeats. He steps back, smoothing a hand over your hair. “Good luck on the move and the new job. I’m excited to see the place whenever we come visit.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, you will,” he says with a nod. He plants a kiss on your forehead, gives your hand one last squeeze, and then steps out to the porch, passing Tyler on the way. They exchange a quick goodbye, saying something about seeing each other tomorrow, and then Tyler steps inside and closes the door.

After he locks it, Tyler turns around and looks at you. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He throws his arms up in defeat and then laces a hand through his hair. You cross your arms against your chest and bite your lip before blurting out, “I’m sorry.”

“When did you break up with him?”

“Before dinner yesterday,” you answer. “He called and everything just came out. About my job, about my move, everything.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want the last 48 hours of my trip to revolve around it.”

“Never in a million years would it revolve around that,” Tyler states. “I have never wanted to talk about your relationships or your boyfriends. I don’t like to hear about that part of your life.”

“Should we clean up?” Tyler’s jaw drops at the question. He just sort of admitted to his feelings that are still very much there and you ask to clean up? “We need to clean up because we’re not going to bed with the house looking like this. I’ll answer all your questions. We will talk. But, first, I need to clean some of this mess.”

“You drive me crazy,” he mumbles. He walks past you into the kitchen and mumbles as he grabs some cleaning supplies, “In more ways than one.”

Tyler takes the living room, you take the kitchen, and you work in complete silence. You take a bit longer than him, scrubbing the surfaces of his counter to get the stickiness off it. He steps into the kitchen and watches you for a moment before asking, “Need help?”

“I’m almost done,” you answer. You wipe a few more times as he approaches. He sits down at one of the stools and drops his chin into his hand to watch you. “Are you done?”

“Yeah, I just threw stuff in a garbage bag.”

You hum in response, wiping a towel across the counter to dry it. Then, you take a step back to look at the entire counter. It’s completely cleared and washed down. Tyler stands, trailing a finger across the surface with a smile.

“All clean,” he notes. “Can we talk now?”

“Can we brush our teeth first?” you ask. He rolls his eyes. “Please.”

You’re stalling. He knows it. But, he also doesn’t mind.

You follow him into his bedroom where you left you pajamas earlier in the day. Tyler pulls his clothing off shamelessly on the other side of the room and slips on a pair of sweatpants before leaving to brush his teeth. You change as soon as he leaves the room, back into his t-shirt and your sweats.

You enter the bathroom where Tyler is standing in the mirror with his toothbrush in his mouth. He hands your toothbrush over to you with the tube of toothpaste and smiles. He spits moments after you start brushing and washes his mouth out with some water. Instead of leaving the room, he sits against the counter and waits for you to finish.

You spit a minute later, washing your mouth like he just had. You wipe the corners of your mouth with a paper towel, then look over at him. The frustration and confusion displayed in his eyes from before has melted away to the look you always get from him. Adoration.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t reach over to take your hand or pull you into a hug. He stays complete still, his eyes the only part of him that is moving and, even then, they stay on your face. So, you move. You step forward, between his legs, and drop your head to his shoulder. His hands slide up your sides and around your back, pulling you into his chest.

Another few minutes are spent like that until one of Tyler’s hands moves to your chin. He picks your head up and his lips part with a sigh. He leans in, the side of his nose bumping with yours, and then he closes the gap with his lips.

It’s the same type of kiss as the one from 2013, but this time when he pulls away neither of you stop another kiss from happening. His lips ghost over yours before he leans back in again. Your fingers find the curls at the nape of his neck and stay there, playing with the loose strands as you wait for the next kiss.

The second one is more passionate and Tyler can’t get you close enough. His hand wraps around the nape of you neck, the other keeping you steady at your lower back. Tyler swipes his tongue along your bottom lip and your lips part in response.

Tyler’s arms wrap completely around your waist. He pushes off the counter, keeping you close to him and lifts you off the ground. You wrap your legs around him with your hands laced in his hair, gripping at the roots. He carries you to his room and shoos the dogs off the bed before placing you down on the mattress.

He’s hovering over you moments later and your hands have a mind of their own, traveling over his shoulders and his biceps, back to his cheeks. He pulls his lips away from yours long enough to kiss your jaw and your neck. His hands trail beneath your shirt, pushing it up to reveal your stomach.

There’s no thinking involved, just his mind on overdrive. He inches down your body and presses his lips against your stomach, kissing to the waistband of your joggers and earning a gasp from your lips. He smiles against your skin.

Your fingers lace through his hair as he ghosts his lips over your skin. He brings his lips to your ribs and kisses the tattoo. Then, he comes back up to kiss your lips again. He knows he needs to slow it down, but he doesn’t want to.

After a few more kisses, he drops to your side, nestling his face in your neck after placing one last lingering kiss against your skin. He sighs, “This wasn’t how I wanted this conversation to go.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I kissed you,” he says. “It’s on me.”

“It’s okay,” you say again. There’s a heavy silence that settles between the two of you. Tyler presses a kiss against your throat and then lifts his head to support it in his hand. You look at him as you play with his hair, admiring his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like that.”

“That’s the only way you should ever be kissed,” Tyler states. He leans down and kisses you again, short and sweet. He’s trying to keep himself from letting this get too far. He drops his head into your neck again and asks, “Can you feel my heartbeat? It’s pounding.”

“Mine too,” you respond. You reach up and run a hand over your face. “God, this is so stupid.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, lifting his head to get a better look at you.

“Our timing is such shit,” you elaborate. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“I know that,” Tyler says. “But that doesn’t matter. Right?” You don’t respond, but he sees the look on your face and knows immediately where this conversation is going. He knows you too well to not realize he’s about to be shot down by the only girl he’s ever loved like this. He shakes his head and says, “You know what? Don’t answer that. We can have that conversation tomorrow. Just let me have this for one night.”

Tyler lifts your hand to his lips and flips it to place a kiss on the stars on your skin.

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin x reader #tyler seguin story #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin imagine #dallas stars imagine #hockey imagine

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whumphours · 4 years ago

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Corrin's Story - The Dog

New OCs? That I haven't ever written about or mentioned before? You bet! Will I write more? Maybe. We'll see.

During a game of poker, one guest learns why not to annoy Jack Everton... or his dog.

Thank you to @slaintetowhump because my trash man and also I want your validation crömbs please, and tentatively @moose-teeth because B was a heavy inspiration here

Warnings: Dehumanization, pet whump, conditioning, beatings (shown and referenced), broken bones, blood, muzzles, sadistic whumper (aka Jack Everton is kinda fucked up and it's very fun)

The young man across the table eyed Corrin with a mix of interest and suspicion. Corrin supposed he was certainly a sight to those who hadn't seen him before. He hated being seen like this, almost on display, but Jack had told him to come, and that was the end of it.

"Fine, fine, I'll raise, then I'm done," came a voice from above him. "There's no way you-"

"Assuming I don't know what I'm doing is a big mistake," Jack chuckled, and whatever hand he revealed was obviously a good one, as the whole table was immediately in an uproar.

The sound of the cheering hurt Corrin's ears, and he whined ever so softly. Jack seemed to hear it though, as he grabbed a fistful of Corrin's white-blond hair and forced the dog to look at him.

"Shush," Jack whispered, in a way that could be almost comforting. "You know why you're here. You know you deserve this, don't you, Cor?"

Corrin went to speak, then remembered the muzzle tied around his head, and simply nodded. Jack knew exactly how much Corrin hated being in these games, out of fear that he'd be humiliated in front of the entire table, or, god forbid, be part of the bet. It made for an apt punishment when Corrin hadn't fucked up enough for a beating, but the muzzle was new. An extra twist that Jack wanted to try out, and was so far loving the lack of Corrin's voice, more than usual since it hurt him if he tried to speak.

"Then don't complain," Jack hissed. Corrin trembled and nodded quickly, and Jack couldn't help but love the rush he got from his dog's fear.

Corrin knew it, and wanted to scream.

The men at the table were too distracted to notice the little conversation, except for the young man directly opposite.

"What's with the mutt?" he suddenly asked.

Immediately, Corrin glared daggers at the young man, and growled. The table went utterly silent at the sound. It never preceded anything good, and they knew that Jack was rather… overprotective of his dog.

To their surprise, Jack laughed, though darkly so. "I don't think he likes you calling him a mutt."

My name is Corrin Russel-Khan, Corrin thought, though nobody had used his full name in a long time. Even Jack only ever called him 'Cor', or 'boy'. He clung onto his name like it would fade away at any moment, like the rest of his distant memories that Jack beat out of him years ago.

"I mean, I knew you had a dog, I just wasn't expecting something like…"

Jack's hand, still buried in Corrin's hair, shifted, enough so that only Corrin picked up on it. Corrin tensed.

"Like what?" Jack asked.

The young man seemed to realise what a mistake he had made. "N-nothing, it doesn't-"

"Like what?"

"Well, I mean, he isn't… isn't exactly… scary… he's just sitting there, he's... he's got a muzzle..."

The young man cowered in his chair as Jack let go of Corrin and stood up, eyes narrowing. "What's your name?"

"N-Neal."

"And I assume this is your first time at one of my games?"

"Y-yes, but I-"

"Well, Neal, I think this'll be an excellent lesson for you," He untied Corrin's muzzle, twirling it on his finger. "Sic 'em."

Corrin gently rubbed his aching jaw and glanced towards Neal. "Do I kill him, Jack?" His voice was barely more than a whisper.

"No, no. Not this time." Jack smiled. "Get creative though."

Neal stepped back. "Wait, wait, no, I'm-"

"Don't worry." Jack's sickening grin widened. "He doesn't bite."

Corrin didn't think about it. He never did. It was easier not to. The crunch of bones breaking, the screams that suddenly became hoarse, the flecks of blood hitting his face - it was nothing if he just focused on the steady pounding of his fists, almost like a drum beating, keeping him grounded, keeping him sane.

"Heel, Cor!"

Corrin pulled away, every bone in his body willing him to react, to feel something, anything, at what he'd just done.

Neal lay against the wall, the chair he was sitting on thrown aside, breath ragged and unsteady, groaning softly each time he so much as flinched. A broken rib protruded from his chest, the white bone starkly contrasting with the blood staining his shirt.

And Corrin felt nothing. Just like he was trained.

"Damn, good job!" Jack grinned as he kneeled down to examine Corrin's handiwork. "You really went for it, huh? Must have been pissed off. You really fucked him up."

Corrin smiled very, very slightly, but said nothing aloud.

He rarely ever got praise, and he didn't want to risk losing it by speaking. Jack never liked Corrin to use his voice much. So he never knew what Corrin was really thinking about. The idea that Corrin wished, so badly, that he was brave enough to do to Jack everything he was forced to do to others, worse even, just to watch the man who ruined his life suffer like he had - that was absurd to Jack. It barely made sense to Corrin's fleeting sanity.

Jack only saw his loyal dog, and it was truer than Corrin liked to believe.

"What do you think of him now?" Jack said, tilting Neal's chin up to look at him.

"Gnh…" Neal gasped, then screamed as Jack sunk a boot into his stomach. "STOP- PLEASE!

"Oh, I love this part," Jack laughed. "I don't have to do any work to get you to beg me for mercy. Cor's such a good boy, isn't he?"

Neal nodded frantically, hoping, praying, that agreeing would get Jack to stop.

"Hm, maybe I could take you downstairs…" Jack wondered to himself.

Corrin felt his heart beat faster at the mere mention of the room. The place he'd been dragged into, kicking and screaming, and emerged six months later with a dead look in his eyes. Most people who went down there came back up in a body bag.

There was a reason people were afraid of Jack Everton.

Neal's screaming and pleading, knowing what would happen to him, rang in Corrin's ears, and he covered them up, whining to drown out the sound. He couldn't stand loud noises, he could barely stand Jack's yelling whenever he did something wrong. Corrin could feel his head starting to throb.

Neal was lucky Jack had been in one of his nicer moods.

"Nah, not today. Hey, Connor," Jack gestured at one of the men seated at the table. "Get a medic. Try to make sure the kid doesn't bleed out."

It felt like a weight had been lifted from everyone in the room. The man in question stood up, and carefully lifted a sobbing Neal out of the back door.

Jack turned to Corrin and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey, hey boy, it's okay, he's gone."

Corrin leaned into him, and part of him hated that he found comfort in the embrace. "Don't like it, don't like the sound…"

"I know, I know," Jack said, voice soft. "I'll try not to do it in front of you again." Corrin didn't believe him. "I'll let you keep the muzzle off for the rest of the game, how about that?"

"Thank you, Jack," Corrin mumbled.

Jack ruffled Corrin's hair. "Try not to growl at anyone else. Even if they annoy you. The cleanup is a hassle. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Hm." Jack lifted Corrin off him and looked over the table. "I think we'll need someone to replace our missing player. I was supposed to be meeting with a… Matteo de Silva, wasn't it, Cor?"

Corrin nodded.

"He should be waiting in the bar somewhere. Go fetch him for me, would you?"

"Okay."

Corrin stumbled to his feet, still dizzy and disoriented. Whoever this person was, he was going to regret coming here when he saw Corrin covered in someone else's blood. It was what Corrin was good at, hurting people, killing them, whatever Jack wanted him to do.

He was simply Jack Everton's dog, after all. He was loyal, even if that was the last thing he ever thought he'd be.

#whump #whump writing #corrin's story #YES jack is fucked up YES i love him NO i will not stop #also corrin?? babey. even if he kills people. my babey.#this comes to you sexy and unedited #pet whump

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wellhellsbelles · 4 years ago

Note

How about a Riley finally realizing she's in love with Farkle?

of course! fun fact about this one (besides the fact that it ended up being really long lol): this is actually from a riarkle fic i started awhile ago but never really finished! i liked this part so much and i knew i wasn’t going to get anywhere with the fic, so after a little bit of refurbishing and a bunch more added on (the after prom part is all new stuff for it!!), i finished it!

hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! :)

ao3 link here or read below!

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants. He stood in front of her, right in the space between her bed and her bay window, but even that felt miles away.

“I don’t either,” Riley told him, “But I’m willing to try. Are you?”

“Oh my god, you guys better not tell my dad about this or I’m dead!” Riley shouted over the pounding music (it was “Blinding Lights” by the Weeknd which meant she was ready to JAM) as they entered the loft belonging to Missy Bradford.

Missy’s loft was bigger than the apartment her family lived in and fancier; the windows were huge panes of glass, the balcony containing a lit swimming pool. The flooring was made of ritzy mahogany wood and the counters posh marble that stretched around the kitchen and, Riley would wager, the bathroom, as well. She had several rotating disco balls set up around that illuminated the space with a spectrum of colors as most of her graduating class pressed up against each other, gyrating along to the music.

“Because our plan was to let Cory Matthews, our history teacher, know that we’re all getting blasted at eighteen!” Maya quipped, pulling them through the crowd towards the kitchen. Riley could already feel the heat pooling off all the bodies in the room and she had a hunch that she would probably need several runs through the dry cleaners in order to get the sweat out of her jewel-laden lavender chiffon dress.

It took more of Maya elbowing herself a path through a sea of drunk teenagers to arrive at the kitchen, but they made it eventually, their reward the smiling faces of their friends, Lucas, Zay, Smackle, and Farkle.

“What took you two so long?” Zay asked as he sipped at whatever was in the red solo cup in his hand. Maya reached into the bag off her shoulder, pulling out a bottle of her mother’s coconut rum. Riley had warned her that she was absolutely, totally going to get her ass busted for raiding her mom’s liquor cabinet, but Maya only shrugged her shoulders, reminding her that they were going to graduate in two weeks anyway and that any punishment was worth the night of their lives.

“You’re welcome, by the way. There was no way we were getting drunk off of PBR. Also, I don’t want my life to be made a living hell by Missy Bradford the last two weeks of school for stealing her parent’s alcohol. I’d rather get in trouble by my own mother, thank you very much. Alright, bottoms up!” she said, raising the bottle and taking a big swig from it. Farkle’s eyebrows furrowed and he reached over to take the bottle from Maya.

“Maya, geez!” he told her, but then finished with, “Save some for the rest of us, yeah?” Maya grinned as Farkle stole a sizeable gulp of alcohol himself, downing it like a champ.

“Wow! Who are you and what did you do with Farkle Minkus?!” Farkle passed off the bottle to Smackle, wiping his mouth of with the back of his sleeve.

“It’s prom night! I’m letting myself get loose!”

“I’ll say!” Riley exclaimed. She gave him a once-over—he was starting to wobble slightly, obviously affected by the beer he was drinking previously. His hair was mussed up, hanging above his eyebrows instead of gelled in a perfect quaff like it was earlier, and his bow tie was undone, resting around his neck.

“Smackle, rum, please,” Riley demanded with the room suddenly feeling hotter, reaching out for the bottle. Smackle obliged, relinquishing the bottle as Riley brought it to her lips quickly. She was surprised by the rush of rum pooling in her mouth, wincing from the burning sensation as she swallowed it to the best of her ability, coughing once it was down.

“Smooth, Riles,” Maya joked, but she knew it was only light teasing. Riley gave Zay the bottle instead, trading him for his red solo cup of PBR.

“We’re all gonna drink until that bottle is finished, got it? Then I got another bottle of cheap whisky we can get down,” Maya explained as they passed the bottle around to one another.

Riley could tell all her friends were reluctant to do so, but she also knew that it was prom night, their graduation was only less than a month away, and that they had all agreed to let loose at Missy Bradford’s after prom party weeks ago. They all figured it was the last party they were ever going to be at together since they were all going to different colleges and they damn well were celebrating like it.

“C’mon, guys, let’s get a picture together before we all get trashed. I wanna at least get something out of this party that I’ll remember,” Farkle said, pulling his iPhone out of his pocket and gesturing for them to crowd around him.

Riley tucked into his side and Maya next to her, while Smackle, Lucas, and Zay all gathered around his opposite side. They all squished together, smiling brightly until the flash went off. Farkle checked the picture quality before deciding it was adequate and pocketing his phone once again.

“You better make us all copies of that!” Zay yelled at him, the music growing louder with the next song.

“Duh,” Farkle rolled his eyes, stealing back the bottle of coconut rum and draining the remainder of alcohol into his mouth. “Next bottle, Maya!” he proclaimed, setting the empty bottle onto the counter. Maya followed orders, extracting the whiskey bottle from her bag and uncapping it, raising it in the air to toast.

“To getting fucking wasted and having the best night of our teenage lives!” she shrieked, leaning back with the container to get a large enough sip. She hacked after downing a mouthful, handing it over for someone else to deal with.

“Shitty whiskey?” Riley asked, smug. Maya’s eyes bugged out.

“Hunter Rye is so cheap but the worst,” she wheezed. “I have no idea why my mother drinks it.”

“As long as it gets us drunk quickly, I don’t give a damn,” Zay murmured, choking after swallowing.

“Amen to that!” Lucas agreed, and as Riley felt her vision start blurring, she still held to the fact that their night was going to be the best ever.

Riley figured that, if this were her father’s history class and if this were the point where they learned a “big lesson”, the lesson would be “don’t get wasted after high school prom” because oh boy. That alcohol was kicking her ass.

The world around her was extremely wonky, her vision going in and out as she watched her classmates around her having the time of their lives. She had an urge to both sit down and stand up as the world quaked beneath her feet, and her thoughts were both infinite and non-existent all at once.

Being drunk was weird.

“Okay, is it just me or do you feel like you could black out any moment?” Farkle slurred next to her, his hands reaching up to ruffle the locks of his hair that were only getting messier by the second.

“Totally,” Riley replied, nodding her head. She felt herself begin to tilt, eventually resting upon Farkle completely without her even meaning to.

“How much do you think we’re going to regret this in the morning?” Riley shrugged.

“In terms of hangovers, I’d wager a lot. In terms of how much trouble our parents are going to get us in, I’d wager there’s no end to the depth of that scale.” Farkle snorted, burying his nose into her hair.

“Well, you wanna dance so we can get a bit more fun in before the world comes crashing down around us?” he asked, extending out a hand towards her. Riley smiled, taking him up on his offer, following him through the crowd until they found a spot toward the edge of all the dancing. Right as they were about to start jumping around, the song changed to a soft, slow cover of “Iris” and everyone started closing in with their dates, the pace around them slowing with the song.

“I guess we gotta slow dance now,” she commented, looking up at Farkle. He seemed to come to the same conclusion, the goofy smile he had from being drunk fading, concentration suddenly clear on his face as his hands went to rest on her waist. Riley hooked her arms around his neck, closing the amount of space between them as they began to sway back and forth with the music.

Neither of them spoke as the song flourished on, but their eyes kept meeting despite difficulties in keeping focus. Riley could feel her heart stutter in her chest and her breath catch as his fingers tightened and settled on her hips, and she couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was happening.

This was Farkle, her Farkle, and he was making her feel this way? Was it the alcohol causing her to feel dizzy, or was it his closeness, the way his eyelashes fluttered with each blink as he stared directly into her soul, tempting her with those irises of his that were gray as a storm, tossing her about in his tumultuous sea?

“Farkle, I really think you should spin me right now,” Riley told him abruptly, breaking them of their trance. A small smirk played at his lips as he obliged, picking her up easily and twirling the both of them. They broke into a peal of laughter once he began to gradually stop, Riley still high in the air as he held her up.

Their eyes met once again as Farkle’s feet halted in place, and as Riley slid back down to the ground she paused at his shoulders, locking herself into place as she leaned forward, brushing her nose up against Farkle’s. His arms reached around to keep her in place, his mouth hanging open as she ducked down to softly, ever so gently ghost her lips against his. He gasped at the sensation before rushing to press his own lips to hers once again, much more fervently than last time, encapsulating her wholly.

It was fire, kissing Farkle was, like she was frostbitten and he was her panacea, shooting warmth back into her veins with a pulchritudinous rush. Her fingertips sparked with electricity as she grasped at his neck, trying desperately and surely to cling to him and the moment they were existing in. It was only Farkle and Riley, Riley and Farkle, and she didn’t want this reverie the two of them had carefully crafted together to end.

Riley woke up the next day with a headache the size of Texas and the intense need to find a bathroom STAT. The light filtering through her window was overwhelming, and Riley stumbled out of the bed to go close the curtains swiftly.

God, she should not have drank that much. What was she thinking?!

“Someone shut those curtains or I’m gonna vomit all over this bed,” Maya groaned into Riley’s pillow.

“Agreed,” Smackle concurred from her perch on Riley’s fluffy, pink saucer chair, pulling the blanket she had tighter around her. Riley pulled them shut and then flopped back down on her bed, immediately regretting the action when it caused her stomach to turn tumultuously.

She tried to return to sleep when she felt less like she was going to toss her cookies, but as soon as her eyes fluttered closed, an image burned itself into the back of her mind, one of the only things she could truly remember from the previous night. Riley couldn’t remember how she got home, when it was exactly that they stopped drinking, what she even talked about last night—but she could remember one sweltering, staggering detail:

She kissed Farkle.

Or was it Farkle kissed her? Whatever, it didn’t matter. What did matter was she wasn’t aware she had any feelings for Farkle whatsoever, so kissing him was about as mind-blowing as finding out there was water on Mars.

Did she like Farkle? Because she honestly had no freaking clue.

Riley checked her phone to see if he had sent something—she’d never known Farkle to be quiet about something that mattered to him. Then again, she’d never had to deal with kissing Farkle for real (that chin kiss does not count in her book), the territory completely unexplored and frankly to frightening to even consider broaching at the moment.

So when she saw no text or anything, she tried to pretend to not be disappointed, but she was. All Riley wanted to know was what Farkle thought; they were both very drunk, of course, but Riley doesn’t believe in accidents. They kissed, and if Riley remembered correctly, they did it for a long while that night.

Ugh, why couldn’t she have a normal life?!

Riley was almost tempted to get a second opinion from Maya, but she wasn’t certain it’d be of good taste with Smackle sitting there, too. Smackle was Farkle’s ex, but they had parted on good terms and Smackle had since moved on with Zay, so maybe . . .

“Farkle and I kissed last night,” Riley announced with no preamble, flipping onto her back and staring at the ceiling with a long sigh.

“Freaking finally,” Smackle said. Riley glanced her way.

“What do you mean ‘finally’? You act like this was a long time coming!”

“Riles, I’m gonna level with you—it was a long time coming. I mean, with Farkle it was always obvious—no offense, Smackle,” Maya told her.

“None taken,” Smackle mumbled, burying her way further into the blanket she had wrapped around herself.

“But you were more subtle about it, Riley,” Maya continued.

“So was no one going to tell me I was in love with Farkle?! Because I’m literally finding this out right now!” Riley exclaimed, pulling a pillow over her face to shield herself from the embarrassment.

“Riles,” Maya began, extricating the pillow from Riley’s grasp, “I can’t tell you how to feel about him. Ask yourself—how do you feel when you’re around me, and then how do you feel when you’re around Farkle?”

Well, for starters, whenever Riley was near Maya, she felt like she was comfortable. She felt a sense of affection that came from years of friendship, something that glowed in the foreground of her mind as a constant. Being around Maya made Riley happy and at a sort of peace, the way Riley felt always when she was surrounded by the people she loved.

That same sort of feeling always applied to Farkle, but now? Sure, Riley still felt that sense of affection rise from being around him, but now that she had kissed him, that affection became surrounded by tendrils of uncertainty. She felt both safe around him and like she wanted to jump out of her skin, like the neurons in her brain were firing with an intense surge of electricity. There was a pull towards him now like he was a magnet, like all the atoms in her body wanted to simply exist alongside his.

. . .

Oh crap.

Riley was in love with Farkle. How had she not noticed this shift in herself? Looking back, it made sense that she felt that way because of how her heart would respond in kind to his presence, how being around him not only made her feel happy, but she felt safe.

“I’m in love with Farkle Minkus,” Riley declared, eyes wide as she stared at the ceiling. Then she sat up abruptly, locking eyes with Maya. “What do I do?!”

“Wait until tomorrow and then tell him. You kissed, so I’d wager he was into it. Besides, I’d be willing to bet money on his feelings for you; the odds are looking very favorable.”

“Why tomorrow? Why not today?” Riley asked, frowning. Maya sent her Riley look that she couldn’t decipher.

“Because,” she said simply, “We are hungover as fuck, and I want to be able to bask in the glory of years of hard work coming to fruition.”

Riley chuckled, rolling her eyes.

“Nice, Peaches.”

The problem about waiting until the next day was that prom did not mark the official end of senior year, and they all had to return to school on Monday as if they didn’t spend their whole weekend partying and drinking (and subsequently recovering.) Then a problem to add to that problem was that Monday was a homeroom day, so she’d end her school day with her classmates that shared a last name starting with ‘M’.

Which meant that she would, inevitably, be seeing Farkle Minkus at school.

The same Farkle Minkus that she made out with drunkenly at a prom afterparty, the same one who had been her best friend since she was six years-old and despite having a (priorly) unrequited crush on her, made no move to change anything between the two of them.

Until now.

Riley was also aware of the fact that he was currently ignoring her. She couldn’t be too sure, of course—Farkle had the inexplicable habit of self-isolating whenever he wasn’t feeling up to human contact, so radio silence wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. She just couldn’t help but be suspicious of the fact that his current bout of radio silence was following a life-altering event that had occurred between the two of them.

“You’re worrying about this too much,” Maya had told her when she voiced her concerns aloud at lunch, “It’s Farkle. Whatever it is that’s going on between the two of you, you’ll figure it out. I’m just surprised he hasn’t said anything yet. I was sure he’d be unable to contain himself after kissing you.”

Riley wished that was how he felt. But he’s been absolutely silent and it’s killing her; she just wanted to know where she and Farkle stood, what kind of change this meant.

If he’d allow her inside his genius mind for one second, to let her be there in an entirely new way.

Unfortunately, she knew Farkle, and if something was real, he tended to . . . run.

Which is why it was unsurprising to her when he doesn’t show up for homeroom—that doesn’t stop the disappointment from seeping in further, however.

Maybe . . . maybe this was his way of letting her down gently? It wasn’t most gentle of ways, granted, but his sudden disappearance from her life didn’t mean nothing. It meant avoidance, plain and clear, and it felt an awful lot like rejection.

Whatever. She could handle it.

She couldn’t handle Farkle not speaking to her, though, so during those last thirty minutes of her school day, she spent her time typing out a few texts to Farkle.

There. Now all she had to do was wait and see if he’d talk to her.

Riley had spent the last three hours trying and failing at doing her homework. The sun had already set over the city, the world outside her window illuminated only by streetlights. She tossed her AP Chem textbook to the side with a sigh, staring at her ceiling as she laid on her back.

What a mess her life had become.

“Riley?”

A voice so familiar it hurt cut the silence of her room, and she sat up abruptly to face it.

“Farkle?”

Sure enough, the boy that had been ignoring her and yet infiltrating her mind and dreams was standing there, uncertainty clear on his face. Riley couldn’t help but be angered by his presence, but her heart had other opinions on the matter. Here he was, the boy she tried oh so hard not to love yet failed so miserably.

How could she hate him in this very moment, yet still love him all the same?

“So, you’re talking to me now?” she countered, and Farkle winced.

Good.

“I don’t either,” Riley told him, “But I’m willing to try. Are you?”

He nodded.

“I am. I just . . .” He hesitated, the warring thoughts in his mind making themselves apparent through the turmoil written in his expression. “I don’t want to hurt you. You’re Riley, my best friend in the whole wide world. I can’t lose you, I’m so afraid of losing you.”

She watched him for a moment before slowly rising from her bed, her feet hitting the floor as she inched forward to meet him. His gaze never wavered despite the anxiety clawing its way through his bones, and she stopped with only mere inches between the two of them.

“I’m always afraid of losing you,” she said quietly. “I’ve been afraid of losing you since the day I met you, but I want to risk it with you. You mean the world to me, Farkle.”

Farkle’s brow furrowed as his gaze met hers, his eyes so blue they threatened to drown her. His Adam’s apple bobbed hard in his throat, but he did not waver.

“Riley—”

“Farkle, I’m in love with you,” she cut him off, finding the confidence she’d been unable to muster all weekend long. “I’m in love with you, and I know we were drunk at that party, but I don’t regret it. All I regret is that I didn’t realize I was in love with you sooner.”

His eyes widened at her admission, mouth dropping open as the words reeled through his mind. But then he blinked, and as if he’d snapped out of his own trance, he pulled Riley towards him in one swift motion, his lips crashing against hers.

And oh, oh—this was what it was like to have a kiss to end all kisses. She felt the heat rise inside her like she could combust at any second, her mind spinning as Farkle pressed against her. Her hand rose to grip at his denim jacket for traction, eyes fluttering closed as she relished in his proximity and his kisses.

It was like a billion fireworks lighting off in her brain, kissing Farkle was. She never wanted it to end, but she had to breathe eventually, so she broke the kiss off, her nose knocking against his.

“I’ve always been in love with you, Riley,” he told her, panting shallowly, “I love you in so many ways, each one so vastly different. This one is new, but I want to experience it with you, if you’ll let me.”

A smile spread slowly over Riley’s face as she leaned back to gaze at him.

“Are you asking me out, Farkle Minkus?”

He grinned back at her.

“Absolutely, Riley Matthews.”

Farkle kissed her again, this time gentler and not quite as passionate yet still bone-rattling all the same.

“I love you, if that’s not clear by now,” he whispered in her ear.

“I love you, too, Farkle Minkus,” Riley whispered back, “Always and forever.”

#riley x farkle #farkle x riley #riarkle #riarkle fanfiction #riarkle fanfic

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ourneverendingpossibilities · 5 years ago

Text

It’s Always Been You

Anime: Kuroko no Basuke Pairing: Kasamatsu Yukio x Reader Rating: K+ A/N: Here’s another chapter!! Ah, there were many ways I could have written this scene.. But this fit it best.. I really hope you guys like it!! (I love how I’m writing Kasamatsu in this series.)

____________________________

Coming to the mall was a big mistake.

In the back of your mind, you know you could've waited until Saturday to give your brother his birthday gift. You were holding a party on that day for the two of you so it wouldn't conflict with your busy schedules. But you also know that Kise would've complained about you not giving him a gift on his actual birthday, as he's done in the past.

Leaving you in this predicament.

You were crouching inside a bookstore, trying to hide away from the four boys standing about a hundred feet from your location. Of course Kise would be hanging out with his senpais for his birthday... That's the kind of guy your brother was... And then to have his fangirls make a huge deal... Right in front of the store you were forced to hide in... You rub your temples, trying to find a creative solution to escape... Releasing a heavy sigh, you take out your phone, sending him a text.

"I'm in the bookstore behind you... Come in alone... At the back."

You watch from behind the shelf as he opens his phone, wishing you could read his expression... His back was towards you, and you try very hard to keep out of sight of his teammates... You feel stares on your abnormal behaviour, and you ignore it, secretly hoping your brother would hurry up and come in the store... You breathe a sigh of relief when he comes towards you, watching the way a certain individual handles the crowd, with reddened cheeks. You weren't sure if it was out of embarrassment or anger, probably both, but you found your eyes drawn to his form for quite some time.

Until you hear a cough beside you.

Standing up straight, you turn your head up, staring at your brother with a look of embarrassment and annoyance.

"Really Ryouta? You brought your senpais with you?"

He pouts, golden hues bright with emotion, "I..Is that any way to address your older brother, ____--cchi! I don't know why you won't come out and meet them!"

You roll your eyes, arms crossed with the gift in your hand. "We're from different schools, Ryouta… I highly doubt they'd want to meet me."

Though a certain captain already knows me...

You bite your lip, feeling guilty for not telling Kasamatsu about your relationship with Kise. You sigh, knowing he wants to say something else, when you thrust the gift in his hands.

"Here... I wanted to give you this. I have to get back home now... But please... PLEASE... Don't say where you got it from..."

He blinks, watching your posture with curious eyes, "But why ____-cchi?"

You open your mouth, as if ready to retort when you stop, shaking your head instead. "Just... I don't want any attention on me... So go back to your senpais, enjoy your birthday and we'll see each other on Saturday okay?"

He can tell you're hiding something, but chooses to remain silent... He wonders if his senpais are intimidating you, and that's why you don't want them knowing you're giving him a gift...

"Okay... If you say so..."

He proceeds to leave, gift in hand, before he pulls you into a soft hug, resting his head on yours.

"Thank you for the gift, ____-cchi…. Happy birthday..."

You feel a smile tug on your mouth, thankful your hood is up and covering you from the unwanted stares.

"Thank you, Ryo-chan..."

You watch him walk out of the bookstore, joining up with his senpais, almost giggling loudly when Kasamatsu kicks him for ditching them. It's then, you sneak towards the front, watching the four men walk away from the store. You feel a tinge of loneliness at the display of affection your brother receives.. Particularly from a certain raven-haired male, who's yelling at Kise for whatever it is he did...

"You have good senpais, Ryouta… Please treasure them."

When a large group of people walk by, you take that as your sign to leave, blending in well with the crowd. Amidst sneaking past, you didn't notice your bracelet snapping from being pushed forward, doing your best to leave this mall and get on the next train to Tokyo... You just want to retreat home, spend the rest of your birthday in peace without any drama.

Unfortunately, that's the complete opposite of what happened.

__________________________________

He's never felt so hurt and angry in his entire life.

Kise begged him to spend time with him at the mall for his birthday.. Which resulted in them being swarmed by a group of fangirls, and then he hastily vanishes for several minutes inside a bookstore. When he came out, he was holding a gift, with a tender expression in his golden hues.

"From my biggest fan-su… She personally came by to deliver this gift."

The same gift you bought while shopping with him a couple weeks back.

The memory of that day is now tainted when he realized that gift was for Kise…. He should've known... You were much too pretty to be single... To think a guy like him would even stand a chance... He sighs, trying to quell the anger in his veins... But the anxious expression in your eyes when you bought it flashes in his mind, making him bite back a growl in his throat. His hand clenches the bracelet now resting in his pocket, having noticed it on the ground as they were leaving the mall after another group of Kise's fangirls became too much.

Against his judgement, he decides to head to Tokyo, realizing it'll be late by the time he gets home. But at this point, he doesn't care. He NEEDS to know... It's driving him crazy, not knowing what your relationship to Kise is... And why you chose to keep it from him instead of being open. The anger in his veins is at war with how he genuinely feels for you.. And his mind goes back to the time at your house, when you fell asleep on him, bundled in his jacket. The hand he was using to massage your head wound up in your hands, as you half cuddled him in your sleep.

His heart didn't beat the same after that day.

You haven't left his mind since. And it's been driving him crazy, to the point he wants to scream. To yell to the sky how much he likes you... He sighs, almost bumping into you as you run towards the train station. Instead, his hand grabs your arm, and he's dragging you to the nearest park, ignoring your cries and pleas. He needs to know... God, he has to know... Or he'll go mad.

"What is Kise to you?"

The two of you are at the playground, abandoned due to the setting sun and his blue hues are glaring down into your golden eyes. They're bright, like the sun, and he watches them flicker with several emotions, it leaves him breathless.. The silence is deafening, and yet, he finds he can't comprehend what your expression means, because it's giving him mixed signals... It's leaving him confused.

Your mind is reeling, trying to come up with an answer to give him... You can feel the anger, the seriousness and what appears to be pain in his eyes.. That's the one thing you can't quite pin down... Why does he show pain within those beautiful eyes?

You swallow, trying to breathe... But with him standing so close, the desperation within his voice ringing through your mind, you're left immobile.

"I know you're the one who gave him that gift, _____... You can't fool me." he pulls out your bracelet, pressing it into your palm, "You dropped this on your way out..."

You couldn't take your eyes off him, feeling yourself shrink at his anger.. God.. You want to speak... Want to tell him that it isn't what he thinks... He's the one you really like..

And yet... your voice is lost.

"S....Senpai...."

His eyes soften a little at your voice, but they immediately harden once more. He pulls away, distancing himself from you, never tearing his eyes from your widening ones.

"Look, I don't care what your relationship with Kise is. But I don't need anyone ruining his concentration for the Inter-high." He begins, voice slightly quivering, "Our priority is winning first, and I can't have any girl coming between my ace and the team, understand?"

The tone in his voice hurts. You can feel your heart slowly crack, as if he's telling you he wants nothing to do with you... Just like.... your brother last year... You told yourself you wouldn't cry, no man could ever make you cry... But damn, his words take you to the time your brother abandoned you, putting all his focus on modelling. He distanced himself from you, the same way your friend/crush is now...

"I...." you stop, biting your bottom lip before shaking your head, walking towards him with anger in your eyes. It's dulled by the tears, but you don't waver, not when the man in front of you matters more.

"What Kise is to me doesn't matter." you finally say, grabbing his jacket roughly to hold him in place. "You want him to focus on basketball? So do I. Because we made you a promise that we would face you at the Inter-high, and I'm not going to back down from that promise."

His eyes widen at your words, the conviction behind them, "H...How?"

"Hyuga-senpai told me." you declare, voice even, "I would never come between Kise and his team. I never had any intention of doing so. But I will make myself clear."

Your eyes harden, voice stern, "It's not any of your business what he is to me. Because my relationship to him, has absolutely nothing to do with my relationship and feelings towards you, Yukio-senpai."

You let go of his jacket, shoving by him and wanting to go home... You're tired, exhausted, and just want a good night's sleep. To just start tomorrow off right. You want to return to your dreams, where Kasamatsu is running his hand through your hair, lightly massaging your head as you lay beside him, the two of you alone. To hell with this drama, with Kise somehow ruining your chances of even dating before it begins...

You don't hear the rushed steps, or the low growl in the back of his throat, so you're completely caught off guard when Kasamatsu grabs your wrist, twirling you to face him. You don't have time to escape when his hands grasp the sides of your face, holding you in place as he crushes his mouth on yours, a half whimper leaving his occupied lips. You wince a little at the force, but rather than fight him, you ease into it, your body melting at his embrace. You weren't sure what spurred Kasamatsu to act like this, but you'd be lying if you say you didn't want this to happen. Your fingers find purchase on his jacket, holding him close as you move your mouth slowly against his.

However, just as quickly as it happened, he withdraws from your lips, staring down at you with half-lidded hues. His thumb rubs the corner of your mouth, lightly panting as he fights to regain breath he lost from not only the kiss, but the emotions overtaking his mind, body and heart. Kasamatsu's heart races when your eyes open, revealing glazed golden hues, full of emotion mirroring his own, and he can't help but lean down again to press a soft, lingering kiss to your mouth. You reciprocate his actions, feeling yourself floating on cloud nine, until you pull back, meeting his gaze with your own. You lick your lips, releasing a shaky breath, before burying your face in his jacket, cheeks burning darkly at the display of affection.

"Y...You really know how to make a girl feel special on her birthday, senpai...."

Your words bring him back to reality, and he blushes, shaking his head at your words.

".... S....Shut up.... brat..."

Your giggles make him fluster further, but he pulls back, staring down at you with a look of confusion, "You share a birthday with Kise?"

You blush, avoiding his gaze with a pout, "It's rather annoying... He gets all the attention..."

He snorts, pulling you into his chest resting his head on top of yours. "Be grateful you don't get the same attention as Kise… I think I'd have a heart attack if I had to chase boys away from you..."

You burst out laughing, holding him tighter as you bury yourself in his chest, feeling oddly secure and protected.... He's always made you feel this way, but after sharing that surprisingly good kiss, your first kiss as well, you find yourself addicted to him. In ways you can't begin to describe.

"Someone sounds rather... jealous..."

He frowns, blushing at your teasing tone before lightly bonking your head. He smirks when you pull back, pouting at his playful teasing, before leaning down to sneak another kiss from your pouty lips.

"Coming from you, that doesn't mean much..." he winks, pulling back from your reddening face and snakes his hand between yours.

"I'll walk you home, birthday girl... Maybe we can stop at the bakery on the way home to get you a small cake."

He watches as your eyes widen at his words, before you're beaming at him, nodding your head happily. "I...I'd like that, Yukio-senpai!"

And once again, his heart races in his chest, this time because he has all of your attention, and he'd be an idiot not to keep you with him.

#knb imagines #knb scenarios #kasamatsu yukio #tension #birthday girl #comfort #first kiss #fluff

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avintagekiss24 · 6 years ago

Text

A few days in Brooklyn.

Steve Rogers has taken over my life! I reblogged a prompt earlier today that was ‘salt and sweet’ and here you go, lol. Hope you like :) This isn’t CapKoye, so I didn’t tag anyone, but if you want to be tagged in all my Captain America stuff, just let me know!

You’ve always been a daydreamer. You barely made it through high school, always doodling on your work, staring out the window with your chin in your palm and a strand of hair twirled around your finger. How could you not be though? You live in New York. Spiderman jumps from building to building saving old ladies from muggers. Captain America and The Winter Solider frequent the small hole in the wall bar just a block from where you live. You often see Iron Man streaking through the sky as he returns to the Stark Industries building. How is this world you live in not a fairy tale? How can you not dream?

You met him once; the Captain. You work at this coffee shop called Brooklyn’s Finest in the middle of, you know, Brooklyn. It’s a hipster joint, certainly not a place where you’d ever dream of seeing Steve Rogers. You were behind the counter, chin in your palm, eyes plastered on the windows as you worked out a plot twist in your mind for your latest work of erotic fanfiction about him. You didn’t even realize he had walked up to the counter. He cleared his throat and you jumped in surprise, standing up straight and blinking your eyes toward him. You look away, starting to recite the greeting until you slam your eyes back toward him again. Your mouth drops open as your big brown eyes widen. He’s so… big. Tall. Wide shoulders. Huge chest. Biceps bulging. His eyes are big too. Blue-green. His dark eyelashes long and wispy. His hair as golden as the sun.

Stop staring! Fuck! You look away and begin to stutter as you feel your face begin to heat up. He chuckles a little as you fumble your way through asking his order, staring down at the POS system in front of you the entire time. That chuckle sent a chill right down your spine that you don’t think you’ll recover from.

“Umm,” he hums lightly, his bright eyes scanning the handwritten chalk menu behind you, “I think I’ll just have a black.”

You shoot your eyes up at him in surprise. Your brown skin is simply on fire as he cocks his eyebrow toward the ceiling, a confused smirk on his face. The coffee, you idiot! He meant he’ll take a black coffee not a black girlfriend! “A black coffee,” You mumble, “Right. Yeah. Um, that’ll be um, three twenty five.”

He handed you the exact change, which you shoved into the cash register before you turned briskly on your heel to pour his cup. You slam your eyes shut trying to will your hand to stop shaking as you poured the hot, black liquid into the Styrofoam cup. You place the top over it with a soft click and move back in front of him, outstretching your hand. He wraps his fingers around the cup, his fingers caressing yours lightly, sending another jolt of electricity through your body. You swallow harshly before sending your eyes toward the counter.

“Any s-s-sugar?” You stutter, “Sir?”

He takes a sip of the tart nectar and shakes his head, “No thank you ma’am. This is perfect. Have a nice day.”

You can’t even respond. You just nod stupidly and smile as he moves out of the shop. Perfect. Captain America said the coffee you made was perfect! You jump up and down a little, twisting your hips as your dance and squeal. Your day has been officially made. You gotta work this into your fanfic somehow.

That was months ago now. You never saw him again after that. It’s another Brooklyn day. It’s starting to get cold. The leaves are burnt orange and yellow, but the sun is high in the sky. You pull your leather jacket around you and shove your hands in the pockets as Drake’s In my Feelings fills your ears. You keep your head low, eyes on the pavement before you as you make your way to work. The day is slow, it’s just you on duty with a small group of high school students in the corner, two young businessmen on lunch, and a few college kids tapping away on their laptops. You’re wiping down the counters, humming lightly when a blood curdling scream erupts your peaceful afternoon. You whip your head toward the noise, but don’t have time to react. Something or someone crashes through the windows and door, sending glass and tables and chairs through the air. You duck beneath the counter and cover your head, slamming your eyes closed at the sudden intrusion.

You peak up over the counter a few seconds later, your chest heaving, your eyes wide as the scene develops before you. Aliens or robots or whatever the fuck they are, run through the streets. Loud pops sound as bullets whiz through the air. People run as fast as they can past the coffee shop, turning to keep their eyes on the threat. You turn toward the back of the shop, seeing a car door leaning up again the wall. The alien invader stands tall, shaking off it’s rough landing before running back out into the street, not even bothered by you or the other patrons. You forget your phone and your bag, rushing out onto the streets with everyone else. A loud explosion blasts on the corner, a building literally collapses in front of you, causing you to duck again, covering your ears.

“Thor!”

You hear the Asgardian Gods’ name being screamed and you whip to your left, just in time to see a bolt of lightning cracking through the sky. He lands with a thud so harsh, it rumbles the ground beneath your feet. A shadow distracts you, sending your eyes toward the sky as the young Spiderman slings from a light post, his body spinning and flipping effortlessly as he shoots his webs toward the enemy. You should run. You should hide. But, you can’t move. You’re frozen from fear and anxiety but also out of awe. You watch as the Black Widow and Hawkeye punch their way through the crowd, throwing alien bodies around like rag dolls. Falcon zips through the air with Iron Man and War Machine. This is incredible. Intensely frightening, but certainly incredible.

“Ma’am! Go! Now! Run!”

A police officer pushes you harshly, forcing your limbs out of their frozen state. He turns and fires his weapon as you begin to run in the opposite direction. A car flips through the air as explosions continue to sound around you and lands on its roof just in front of you, halting you in your tracks. You scream, covering your head with your hands. It’s one thing to write about events like this, but it’s another to be in the middle of it. You start to run again but your suddenly whisked off the ground, like you weigh nothing. Another scream escapes you as you’re carried higher and higher. You twist in the grip of your attacker and scream again as you realize that one of the earth invaders has you. He scurries up the side of the building like a cat up a tree; it’s claws breaking the bricks and making them crumble.

You don’t know why it has you, why it picked you, but suddenly, some forty or fifty stories in the air, it just lets you go. It’s drops you like a bad habit. Everything moves in slow motion as you reach out for something, anything to grab onto. Your hair flies around your face, your eyes wide, your mouth open as you scream and your body hurls through the air toward your certain death. You don’t see or hear Spiderman pointing toward you, calling for a certain six foot two, two hundred and forty-pound Brooklynite beneath you. The blond man whips his head toward his name being called and focuses his eyes on your falling body. He takes off in a sprint, jumping over bricks and fallen light poles, running up a parked SUV before launching himself toward you. He cuts through the air like a knife, twisting and flipping in style as he catches you in midair. You slam against his body as he cradles you in his arms, curling himself around you to take the brunt of your impending landing.

You scream again when you finally hit the pavement, rolling and tumbling like a tumbleweed, his body still wrapped around yours. You somehow end up right side up, the blond man still holding you like a baby in his arms. You look up at him through your hair, hot air bursting through your lips and teeth as you expel it quickly. Your arms are wrapped around his shoulder and neck as you stare at your savior. Your brown eyes are big and watery as they search his.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly through his own harsh breathing.

You nod quickly and before you can stop yourself, you kiss him. You don’t even know where it came from. You always thought it was ridiculous when the girl kissed the hero in the movies after a near death experience, but here you are, smooching on Captain America after a death drop. He tastes of salt and sweet. An intoxicating mixture. You break away from his bloody lips with a smack and stare back at him as he stares at you.

“Thank you.” You whisper breathlessly, still in shock and awe.

He sets you down on your feet, pushing you into the lobby of a business building. He tells everyone to stay inside, to stay down, and cover their heads. That someone will be back for them once it’s safe. He makes eye contact with you again and holds it for a few seconds too long. He nods slightly in your direction and takes off running back toward the fight. You and a few others rush toward the entrance, watching as he runs off, throwing his shield toward one of the aliens and throws himself into a somersault before scissor kicking two aliens in the face.

“Holy shit.” One of the teenagers standing with you murmurs.

Hours pass. The city is safe once again. The Avengers have cleared out, not wanting the cameras on them. Some kid with an iPhone caught your ordeal on camera and leaked it to the press. Channel three, four, five, eight and eleven surround you, their microphones in your face, shouting questions at you. The paramedics dab at you, clearing your cheek of blood and glass, but they can’t wipe the goofy smile off your lips. Your eyes sparkle as you stand in a dumbstruck haze of emotion.

“Captain America saved my life.” You smile widely, letting out a breath as the cameras zoom in on you, “If you’re watching,” You start, staring right into one of the cameras, “Your next coffee is on me.”

Months pass. You’re the local celebrity after having your face plastered all over CNN and other news outlets as the girl who kissed Captain America. People are even writing fanfics about you now. You’re back at work, Brooklyn’s Finest is back, better than ever with business booming once people found out you work here. You hand a coffee to a small girl and smile widely at her as she gushes over you and how pretty you are. Asking what it felt like to kiss the Captain America. You shrug, dropping your eyes as you relive the moment over for the ten millionth time in your head, “It’s everything you’d think it’d be.”

The girl squeals in delight and moves out with her coffee, leaving you with your thoughts. You turn back toward your line and blink up at the tall man before you. You do a double take as your eyes connect with that familiar blue-green pair. He smirks back at you as all the air leaves your body.

“I think you owe me a coffee.”

#Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #Captain America #Captain America fanfiction #Captain America x reader #Captain America x you #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fandom #mcu fandom #Captain America fanfic #Steve Rogers fanfic #avintagekiss24

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our-jensen-ackles-love · 6 years ago

Text

Dial Tone; Chapter Two

Pairing: MOC!Dean x Reader

Summary: With the Mark of Cain lowering his inhibitions, Dean’s head was a mess. When a simple waitress picks up his other-other cell phone that was left behind after a late night diner run, it leads to a very interesting relationship between two strangers. Could this woman help Dean fight through the Mark or will she just be another one of his victims?

A/N: SO SO SO SORRY that this took legit forever to get out. But as we all know, life happens. Things will start being regular again over the next week. Thank you all so much who had stuck it out and I hope you guys enjoy - this is going to be a fun one to write. ;)

Word Count: 1698

Warnings: language, mentions of stranger danger, flutters of anxiety

Masterlist Series Masterlist Buy me a Ko-Fi What’d ya think?

Chapter Two

“Who the fuck are you?” A gruff voiced asked aggressively on the other end of the line, taking you back completely.

Your immediate reaction was to get defensive. Clutching the phone somewhat angrily, you replied through gritted teeth. “Why should I tell you who the fuck this is?”

There was a moment of silence, making you think that the caller had hung up, but you didn’t hear the dial tone that usually followed. Hearing what sounded like labored breathing, you waited in angry patience for a reply while absently twirling your cleaning rag around the table. For the first time in about a month, you were happy that your boss was on vacation because he would have been having a field day if he saw you on the phone while on the floor.

“Listen,” the voice came through the speaker finally. “I think I left my.. my phone somewhere. Can you just tell me where you found it so I can pick it up?”

“Only if you promise me you aren’t a drug dealer.”

There was another moment of silence. “What?”

“I will tell you where your phone is only if you can promise me you aren’t a drug dealer.”

You weren’t sure why you needed this reassurance, but you knew that it would help you sleep a little better to know it wasn’t your creepy neighborhood drug dealer on the other end. “I… I’m not a drug dealer.”

Chewing your bottom lip, you thought you caught the slightest hint of a chuckle from his tone of voice. Releasing your lip from the clutches of your top teeth, you spoke your next words carefully. “You left in at the The Boot.”

“The Boot? You mean it’s at the dinky little diner we just left?”

You quickly thought through the number of customers that you had dealt with at The Booth tonight, but only a handful stood out. “You just left? I was just waiting on a table with two guys and a bunch of books.”

There was a definite chuckle this time. “Ah, yes. The bunch of books would have been my brother Sam.”

“Oh, you were brothers.”

“Wait,” there was a stall. “You didn’t think.. you didn’t think we were together did you?”

Now you couldn’t help the smile that followed and gave the air a shrug continuing to focus on the absent cleaning of this already clean table in front of you. Squeezing the phone closer to your ear with your shoulder, you shifted some clean silverware back on to the table. “I mean, your brother was lecturing you like someone would to their significant other.”

“God dammit.”

You laughed, standing up and admiring your work for a moment. “So does this mean you will be coming back to pick up your phone or do I get to just use up the battery tonight making crank calls?”

“No, no.” He sighed, giving you a slight insight to the exhaustion in his voice. “I need to have that phone on me.. it’s my.. work phone.”

“Alright, well we are open all night, but I’m only here until two.”

The two of you hung up and you realized that you never got the mystery owner’s name before hanging up. You knew who his brother was and a faint remembrance of what he looked like, but he had spent most of his time at the diner kind of spacing out into the window. Now thinking back on in, they both seemed to be polar opposites of each other.

You spent most of the night catering to the random passersby who were looking for the nearest gas station and the oddball here or there who just needed a cup of coffee during their night shift, which was mainly nurses, police officers and other food service workers. For the first time in a couple weeks, not one drunk wander in during your shift.

Just as two o’clock crept up, you began to feel oddly disappointed with the fact that your non-drug dealing caller still hadn’t come by for his supposedly important “work” phone. Toying with the idea of leaving it in the lost and found, you decided that just about anyone could come through and say they lost a phone and snag this one. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened and the hookers that roamed the surrounding corners could sniff that shit out like it was nothing.

“Hey.”

A sudden gruff voice interrupted your back and forth thought process of what to do with the phone, pulling you into the gaze of a familiar pair of eyes. “Uhm, hey?”

The man before you gave you a side smirk before picking his hand up and running it through his hair haphazardly. “I, uh, I left a phone here. I think it was you I spoke with a couple of hours ago.”

You nodded your head slowly, remembering all too well the cocky smile he had given you just hours ago. “And you are..?”

“Dean.”

“Ah, Dean, what’s your brother’s name?”

“Sam,” he answered raising an eyebrow at you. “Why are you asking me about my brother?”

You shrugged, fishing around in your apron pocket for the cool, sleek box you’d only just become accustomed to lugging around. “I just wanted to make sure you were who you said you were.”

“Got some trust issues there, huh?”

Handing him his phone, you didn’t really answer him. Instead you went about your usually prep for heading back home. Things like making sure you hand your wallet safely tucked about into the backside pocket of your bag and your bus pass already in hand. Once you were sure that you had all your belongings including your own phone, that had the local police on speed dial, did you turn your focus back to the man who went by Dean. “Something like that.”

You shouted a quick goodbye to Steve and swerved around your visitor keeping your attention on the door; you had exactly seven minutes to get out of the diner and on the next bus home.

You had been so focused on getting out of there that you didn’t hear someone fall into step behind you. “Where are you going?”

From the tone of their voice, you didn’t even have to glance over your shoulder to know that Mister Green Eyes was trailing behind you. “Why does it matter?”

“Well,” there was a semi-frustrated sigh that came from behind you, but you literally didn’t even have the time to spare to look and roll your eyes at him. “I just wanted to say thank you for holding on to this, I guess.”

“Not a problem.”

“Wait.”

Now it was your turn to sigh and stop in your tracks. With a slow turn you faced the green eyed, freckled face of a very exhausted looking man, but that didn’t stop the bite that came off your tongue. “What?”

“I.. I just wanted to know your name.”

“Why?”

“Damn woman,” he gave himself a soft chuckle and kicked a small pebble with his boot before shoving his hands in his jeans. “You ask a ton of questions.”

“Maybe I don’t like sharing personal information with a stranger.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to reply, but you noticed him squint his eyes and lean a little closer to where you were not so patiently standing. “Well, then Y/N,” he started with an all knowing smirk. “You might want to remember that the next time you leave work still wearing your name tag.”

In the same moment that it took you to glance down and groan at your own stupidity, was the same moment that for the first time in basically ever of you working at the diner, did the bus arrive early and speed on by; since you weren’t waiting there per usual.

“Dammit,” you muttered, followed by a slew of other un-lady like words while you ripped off your name tag and shoved it into whatever pocket you had a nearby. “That was the last bus of the night.”

“You take the bus home? At this time of time?”

Dean was wearing a look; one that was probably a cross between confused and impressed. It was a look you got a lot when you told people that you didn’t drive, but what always followed by your explanation was not worth the look of pity. So most times you just went with your standard excuse, “I don’t have a car.”

The leather jacket wearing man rocked back on his feet for a moment before releasing a breath of hot air that was visible in the cool night. “Well, where are you heading?”

Knowing he was probably going to ask you again when you headed inside to try and scrounge up the cash for the overpriced cab ride, you decided to get this part of the conversation out of the way. “I’m going home.”

Your vague and mostly one-word answers were really starting to grate on Dean’s nerves and it was evident in the way that his knuckles were turning white again his fists. But trying to fight through the rage, he took a sobering breath and focused on his next words carefully.

“You’re probably going to say no, but in a pay it forward kind of gesture.. I could give you a ride home.” Your eyes widened at his suggestion and the anxiety ridden butterflies began their assault, which must have been noticeable because Dean quickly threw his unclenched hands up. “Or a local gas station a little bit closer to home.”

It was going to start raining at any minute, you could smell it in the air and you really didn’t want to chance getting sick and having to call out of work for a couple days only to fall behind on bills that you had just caught up on.

Everything inside of you was screaming that this was a bad idea, but comfort was out beating your nerves tonight. “Fine, but only because you’ve assured me that you aren’t a drug dealer.”

“Just tell me which direction to drive in.”

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beepbeeprichiellc · 7 years ago

Note

can you do “I love you, you know that right?” for ready please!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

This is kinda…ehhhhhh. Middle sucked, ending was great. Lots of love friend!

The wedding had been absolutely beautiful, the flower arrangementsperfectly displayed for the guests, the piano playing softly in the hall to enticepeople, the flowing gown that seemed endless and the couple who only ever hadeyes for each other. Yes, it had all been so stunning and had gone off withouta hitch. As the new Mr. and Mrs. kissed the crowd erupted in cheer, thehappiness they admitted seeping on to the others, making Eddie smile with enthusiasm.

The bride and groom barreled down the aisle, laughing theentire way. Beverly stopped at the door, pulling Ben in to a passionate kissbefore exclaiming loudly, “I’ve got him now!” They smiled at one another, thelove radiating between them before exiting through the double doors and out tothe hall. Eddie looked over to his friend, smiling up at his elated grin.

People began to spill from the pews, orderly filing outtowards the reception. “I sure hope they put out for an open bar.” Eddiewhispered a little too loudly, “Receptions make me uncomfortable.”

“What because Richie was the maid of honor?” Mike asked, notbothering to hide his annoyance. “It was kind of surprising to see him here, Ithough he was in Europe.”

“Okay first off.” Eddie hissed, following behind a ratherfat woman and immediately regretting the close proximity, “it’s not because ofhim. I’m forever a bachelor and receptions always remind me of that. Noteveryone can have a pregnant wife at him asshole.”

Mike chuckled, “Touché.” They entered the reception hall,the DJ already playing music as gusts began to find their assigned tables. Theset up was just as perfect as the ceremony making Eddie wonder how much Ben hadpaid for the whole thing.

“And second off, I agreed to come with you so that you canwatch me and make sure I don’t do anything stupid. Tozier’s band landedstateside last week, my limo service was contracted to pick them up. I knew hewas going to be here, he wouldn’t miss Beverly’s wedding.”

There was a scoff from the opposite side, surprising both ofthem. “You got that right.”

“Well shoot me where I stand, if it isn’t Stanly Uris!” Mikeexclaimed, pulling the stoic man in to a hug. “I haven’t seen you since lastChristmas!”

“I know, we meant to call but we got all caught up with the surrogateand-“

“Oh my god, are you guys having a baby?” Eddie asked, acceptinga generous hug from his friend. He felt his stomach twist, knowing that thesepeople were further in life than he ever hoped to be. The past year had beenrather rough and Eddie had chosen to bury himself in his work rather than focuson the aching in his heart.

Stan nodded as he pulled away, “A little girl, due nextmonth.”

“I’ve got a boy due in two weeks!” Mike replied happily, “I’llbe damned, we will have to set up a play date or something.”

“Oh god you two are making me feel old.” Eddie groaned,rolling his eyes. “What happened to us? Marriage, kids? God, where did the timego?”

“Well they say time flies when you’re having fun, isn’t thatright Eds?”

Eddie felt himself stiffen, the deep angelic voice ringingin his ears. He didn’t turn to see who it was, because he already knew. It wasthe devil wrapped in Prada, parading around with his head held high as hestomped on the dying hearts of those who dared to love him. It was the ghost ofEddie’s past, come back on the form of Richie Motherfucking Tozier.

“Hey there Mike, congrats on the new baby!” The maid ofhonor exclaimed, patting the man on the back and flashing his famous grin. “Stan’sgotta watch out for his little girl, I know your kid’s is going to be a heartbreaker.”

“Very funny Trashmouth.” Stan nipped, “Thought you were in Europe,what are you doing in the states?”

“I landed in JFK about a week ago, I wasn’t going to miss mygirls big day! “He playfully replied, nudging Eddie in the ribs. “Good newsthough, the limo service was pretty fucking great, props to you EddieSpaghetti.”

Eddie could feel his face fluster, his body reacting to thesimple touch poorly, wakening the dormant butterflies in his stomach. His headwas spinning, the smell of cigarettes and vanilla wafting off of Richie andcrashing on to him. He was going to puke.

“Excuse me.” He managed to blurt out, pushing past Mike and Stanand making a beeline for the hallway. The thump of his feet matched the beatingof his heart, making it out in to the empty hallway where he allowed himself tofinally breath. He should have just stayed home, he could have avoided thisentire fiasco. The contract with Richie’s band had hit his desk last month, thedate displayed clearly across the paperwork, he knew his old lover would behere so why in the hell had he agreed to come?

The sound of footsteps behind him announced another person’spresence, figuring he knew who it was, Eddie didn’t bother to face him as hemumbled, “I’m fine Mike. Just need a minute okay? Go ahead and order me a Rumand Coke.”

“Rum and Coke?” A voice, that certainty wasn’t Mike’sreplied. “Since when did you start drinking those?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Ever since none of your fuckingbusiness.” He bit, turning to meet Richie’s curious gaze.

“A little rude don’t you think?” Richie replied smoothly, smirkingat the harshness in his tone. “I mean come on, it’s been what, a year? Is thathow you treat someone you haven’t seen in a year?”

“No, it’s how I treat you.” Eddie quipped, not missing abeat.

“Ouch, that hurts my rock and roll heart.”

“Oh shove it up your ass Tozier.” He replied, scoffing atthe nonchalant tone the trashmouth was taking with him, considering the vibrantanger he had expelled during their last encounter. “Just take your jokes, lubethem up and shove them way up your ass.”

“God damn Eds, you’ve got quite a potty mouth on you.” Hejeered, the nick name sliding off of his tongue effortlessly. “You’re new boyfriendteach you that?”

“Stop calling me that.” Eddie corrected, “I told you tonever call me that again.”

Much to his surprise, Richie laughed, actually laughed as ifall of this was some kind of joke. Eddie couldn’t move, standing there like theidiot he felt he was. “I’ve missed you Eddie. I really have, I didn’t think youwere going to show but I’m glad you did.”

Eddie’s mouth gaped open, a burning building in the pit ofhis stomach. “Did you do a bad stage dive in Europe or something?”

“A few, why do you ask.”

He snorted, “I don’t know, maybe because you fucking left meto go tour a year ago, telling me that you wanted to be free to basically fuckwhoever you wanted and dumped me on the spot. Then I get an order for yourfucking band that just happens to cross my desk at work, requesting that I, theowner of the service, drive all of you back from the airport. Oh and then,after all of that, you have the audacity to speak to me like this, like we werejust two friends catching up after a long time apart!” Eddie tried to keep hisvoice down, knowing that a reception was proceeding on the other side of thewall but he couldn’t help the rise and fall of his emotions, the hurt returningto his heart, even after all the time spent recovering. “What is your problem?”

“Eddie, look-“

“No. You know what? Screw you. Seriously, screw you Richie.I don’t need this.” It was like venom between them, all of his frustration putinto his final statement. “I don’t need you.”

Eddie tried to storm off, having had the perfect ending tothe fight he had imagined in his head for months. Only this time, a strong arm caughthim, twirling him back in to place. He staggered slightly, surprised by thetouch. “Alright, that’s enough hot head. Just wait one fucking moment okay?”

Richie’s touch was like a drug, making the hair on the backof his neck stand on end. He quickly pulled away, not wanting to becomeintoxicated. “Let me go, I’m leaving.”

“No, we are having a conversation.” Richie corrected,holding up his hands in defeat. “I didn’t come out here to fight with you.I just wanted to talk.”

“You said enough when you left.”

“That was a misunderstanding.” Richie replied, hisface twisting in annoyance. “I never said I wanted to fuck other people Eddieand I had a reason for leaving, if you let me explain I can-.”

“Explain?” Eddie gaped, his body shuttering from frustration.“After a year of no contact you think you have a right to explain?”

“I tried to get you to talk to me, I had my agent hire yourservice to get you-“

“Oh that’s the stupidest thing I have ever fucking heard of.What you think I would just see you and jump into your arms like nothing everhappened between us? This isn’t a fucking movie!”

“Okay bad example.”

“And you know what? Even if you tried to call, or write, orwhatever I wouldn’t have responded.” His heart was nearly jumping from hischest, his tears brimming in his eyes making him fight against himself. “I gaveyou everything and you left me. Kicked me to the curb like yesterday’s news. Ifucking loved you asshole.”

Richie shook his head, watching the man before him crumbleat his hand. “I love you, you know that right?” He whispered, “That’s why Ileft, that’s why I ended it. I fucking love you Eddie and the tour of Europewould have broken you. I left you so that you would actually have a chance athappiness, a chance you didn’t have with me.”

“You don’t know anything Trashmouth.” Eddie choked, whippingat his eyes with the hem of his suite. “I was broke the moment you left.”

“Eddie-“

“Their calling for the maid of honor, Richie you need to getin there.” The two looked over to Bill, his worried eyes shifting between them.Richie groaned, running his elegant fingers through his sculpted hair ruiningit forever.

“I’m coming.” He nipped towards the best man, whonodded. Looking over to Eddie he added, “Don’t go anywhere, this isn’t overokay? I’ll be right back.”

Eddie didn’t respond as he watched Richie walk through thedouble doors, plastering on a fake smile and waving to the people who yelledhis name. Once the doors cut his view off, Eddie pulled his keys from hispocket and headed in the opposite direction, towards the parking lot.

Richie had broken him once before.

He was not going to let it happen again.

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secret-rendezvous1d · 7 years ago

Text

Cologne Christmas.

DECEMBER 5TH, 2017

Harry and the missus and the kids spending Christmas at a vacation

I’m not so sure how I feel about this short and sweet one... some of the requests are really getting my brain going and searching for ideas. I haven’t written a whole load about the four kids, all in one story, for a long while, so I hope this one lives up to something good. Thank you all for the most loveliest of feedback. It’s been so great to get back into the swing of things and getting back into the writing feel; I’ve missed it so much and I can’t wait to do more and more it when next year rolls around!

It’s going up earlier than usual today... just because I’ve got a busy evening planned, with some shopping to do and some decorating to help with, and I don’t want to miss a 6pm post. But, hey! I know you guys like it when I post earlier than normal. ;))

Feedback is welcomed, as always.

Enjoy! xx

The aroma of hot chestnuts and glazed apples and gingerbread biscuits, thick with hint of cinnamon, sat heavy in the Cologne atmosphere, wafting through the alleys lining the packed streets of the German markets and steaming from each pagoda, and wooden shack, that you passed on your slow walk through the crowd of people. The smell hitting you in the face each time you came to a halt to allow the kids to take a look at the brightly-lit stands surrounding you. Their tiny faces illuminated with, not only, the literal light as the lamps glowed before them but a metaphorical light of happiness and joy taking over them. Some displaying German books, some showing off what it was like on a glass-blower’s daily schedule, some crowded with curious eyes to see a specific gadget being shown off, that whizzed and whirred, some catching Persephone’s eyes as they sold trinkets she could see in her bedroom, and some being shelter to children’s toys and plush bears that had caught the eyes of Alfie and Darcy, Rose having fallen asleep against Harry’s shoulder, snoozing into his neck, as she’d attached herself to his hip from the moment they’d left the hotel room.

They hadn’t ever seen something so magical and so beautiful and so spectacularly sumptuous.

In the trees, standing tall above them, bare and naked and sporting just a set of thick twigs, were glowing fairy lights that twinkled and flashed, rhythmically. And, hanging on strings, above the walkways and of all shapes and sizes, were large stars bold with a yellow luminescence. Enough of them to help guide the way down the turns. There were faux holly bushes, dotted with falsely sugared berries, hanging from the roofs and, stood in the centre of all the festive chaos, and ahead of the cathedral that was built tall and sturdy and light with spot-lights, was a Christmas tree. Decorated with the most elegant of baubles, with glitter scripture in the German tongue, and little tassels of tinsel catching in the bitter air.

It was nothing like London was at Christmas, and it couldn’t ever be compared to Hyde Park’s Winter Wonderland, and it caught them in a completely mesmerised state as they took in their surroundings.

“Daddy, can we get some hot chocolates again?” Persephone asked, her gloved hand tugging on Harry’s free hand, his other cradling his five year old upon his hip, as she looked up at him with a glisten of hope in her eyes, green and bold and similar to his own. Cheeks bitten with the frosty wind, tinged a (almost) dark magenta, with her lips a little chapped and cut in some areas from the wind that nibbled at her wet skin. Chocolate still clinging to the corners, forming a rather thin line above her upper lip that she’d missed with her swiping tongue, and that he’d missed with his wool-clad thumb, when devouring her previous hot chocolate. Alfie’s ears perking up from your side as he looked up at you, any mention of something warm making him want it. “Can we, daddy?”

“If it’s alright with your mum,” he craned his neck around to look over his shoulder to send a glance in your direction, seeing Darcy, now, upon your hip and watching behind you, with Alfie tucked underneath your arm, the underside of his nose glistening as he sniffled, “I think we could all do with something hot to drink, yeah? A nice sit down to warm up, as well, because my toes are freezing in my shoes.”

He looked down at his black Vans, completely worn out, with laces loose and almost turning into a dark grey rather than the crisp white, that they once were, and tried wiggling his numb toes at the front. Barely feeling them as that sat, numb and almost feeling dead, as he wobbled his weight. His face scrunching as he waited for the burn, that prickled up the soles of his feet, to come to a stop.

“Daddy, you’re not wearin’ any socks, that’s why,” Persephone cackled, her boots scuffing across the tarmac, kicking smaller stones in her path and cringing back slightly when one large one, in particular, caught the heel of someone’s shoe, although, much to her fortune, had gone unnoticed as she strolled passed. “Mummy told you to put socks on.”

“Mummy did tell me, didn’t she? And daddy didn’t listen because daddy thought he knew better. But, mummy always knows best at these things,” he chuckled softly, coming to a halt in front of a petite little shack, decorated with hanging tapestries outside and garlands around the doorframe, with a sign above the entrance saying ERFRISCHUNGEN, smelling strong of all sorts of spices and German delicacies and sweet treats that he’d seen, during his travels as a teenager, but never once tried. His toes already feeling the slither of warm as he let Persephone lead the way up the slope. “Seff, hold on a minute, poppet. Let’s wait for mummy to catch up first. Gon’a lose her otherwise n’she’s got the hotel key.”

You weren’t so far behind the three of them but, with a five-year old wiggling in your hold, who was eager to touch everything she could get her hands on and grab whatever she could, and a seven-year old, who was suffering from the tail-end of a rough cold and wanted nothing but to be snuggled into your side for warmth, it was a challenge to manoeuvre between groups of people. Apologising, with a sorrowful, yet rather tight, smile on your lips, as they side-glanced you. Popping out into a gap and strolling forward. Coming to a stop before him as Darcy began to wiggle more in your hold, shoes digging into areas that caused slight discomfort, eager to get down on her feet and run havoc in the space, impatiently wanting to scurry towards the direction of the slope.

“You get the kids some hot chocolates. I’m going to get us some mulled wine. Might even see if they have a bottle that we can buy and share when the kids are in bed later,” you grinned, snaking your arm from around Alfie’s shoulders and setting Darcy on the ground as she took a run towards her eldest sister. Persephone swinging and twirling around on a pole, twisted and twirled tinsel sellotaped to the metal. “No sweet treats for the kids, okay? Especially the twins. They’re absolute nightmares to put down when they’re on a sugar rush. And I mean that, Harry. Or else you can sort them out for bedtime tonight,” you informed him, eyes dropping to Alfie, who whined at the loss of your warm side, “I’ll be back in a minute, sweet boy. I’m just going to get me and your dad something to drink. You stay with him and-”

“Bu’, mummy, s’cold,” he whimpered under his breath, the cold air making his heavy breathing visible as his teeth chattered and his knees knocked together, “m’cold, mummy.”

“I know you are. I know. But a nice hot chocolate will make you feel all warm and cosy and then we’ll head back to the hotel and have a nice cuddle in bed before we go to sleep. Might even get you warm in a bath. Got’a sweat this cold out of you,” you cooed softly, cupping his chilly cheek in your palm and running your thumb across the curve, catching the wind-induced tears that sat under his eye. His hands coming up to pull down his beanie that covered his curls and warmed up his ears. “Nothing but a good sleep that won’t fix you up, Alfie. We fly home tomorrow and it won’t as cold in London, will it?” He shook his head as Harry’s palm softly came to rest upon his back. “Go with daddy, get some nice hot chocolate, and we’ll make our way back.”

“Come on, bugger. Let’s get you nice and warm. I think there’s a hot chocolate, in there, with your name on it,” Harry hummed, guiding Alfie up the slope, before sending a wink in your direction, enough for you to spin on your heels and tighten your coat around your torso. Scarf wound around your neck as you cosied into it. Disappearing around the corner with only the cream bobble of your maroon beanie on show. Rose slowing coming to, her head lifting from his shoulder, groggily whining and yawning out, heavily, as she rubbed her eyes with her fists. “Hello, rosebud. Did you have a nice sleep? Was daddy’s shoulder comfortable?”

She nodded, his head ducking down to miss the hanging sign from colliding with his forehead. His eyes seeing his eldest daughter sat with one of his youngest, helping her slide off her coat and setting her gloves on the table top. His son, his cheeks finding a bit of colour from the heat of the small space, falling to the seat opposite and dropping his head to his forearms. Refusing to take off his coat as the beanie slipped from his head. Landing beside a shaker of sugar. Harry set Rose down in a seat before he shrugged out of his coat, draping it over Alfie’s shoulders before ruffling his hair.

“Think we could do with some marshmallows with our hot drinks, as well, yeah? But, you can’t tell mummy, do you understand me? Promised her that we’d have no sugar,” he snickered, looking towards Persephone as she dragged two extra chairs from an empty table, “Seff, can you look after everyone whilst I pop to the counter, yeah? Four hot chocolates, right?”

“Daddy, can I have a cuppa instead?”

“A cuppa, hm?” His lips quirked up as Persephone nodded sporadically, a chuckle escaping his lips. “You, little lady, have been spending too much time with Auntie Gem, haven’t you? She’s always called it a cuppa. Drinks it all the time, doesn’t she?”

“She always puts two extra spoonfuls into mine,” she admitted, hands coming up to cup her mouth at the sudden confession; one that she promised her auntie that she wouldn’t spill to her parents. Eyes wide as she giggled. “Always lets me choose as many digestives as I want, as well. And uncle Michal always buys those bourbons and custard creams.”

“Custard creams?” Harry dramatised, his eyes widening and his eyebrows furrowing as his mouth fell open, “I think they might be corrupting you, poppet. Me and mummy don’t like custard creams,” he teased, his trainers scuffing across the wooden panels of the floor as he swiped his wallet from his front pocket, asking for four hot chocolates and a bowl of marshmallows, that he knew he would need to help eat and hide before you came back, slipping a twenty euro note from the back slot of the leather and passing it over, “Rose, you wan’a come and get the marshmallows for me?”

* *

“You gave Darcy something sugary, didn’t you?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders with a smirk on his lips, taking a seat on the balcony beside you and reaching forward for the glass of mulled wine that you’d poured about an hour ago. Pouring more than you’d poured yourself because, it was quite possibly that he needed more, after chasing a 5-year old around a hotel room. Her squeals and her cackles and her giggling and tiny feet coming to a halt and suddenly dying down once the clock ticked passed 9pm, passing out on the bedroom floor, just a few feet from the bed she shared with Rose. He kicked up his feet and rested them upon the chilled bar of the balcony railings, eyes focused on the lights that shone in the horizon as the markets still continued.

“I may have brought them all a bowl of marshmallows to share with their hot chocolates,” he hummed behind the rim of his wine glass, allowing the burning liquid to trickle down his throat and give his tastebuds a burst of life, “that’s some good stuff, innit? Mum and Gem would love some of that. Your mum would find it ravishing, too. Should’ve brought a coupl’a bottles to take home with us. Could’ve cracked it open on Christmas day evening when all the family come.”

You ignored his attempt at trying to change the subject and cocked an eyebrow up, twisting in your seat to face him, the cushioned pillows sliding beneath you.

“I told you what happens, mister. She’s an absolute nightmare when she’s had sugar. She’ll be grumpy at the airport tomorrow and I don’t need angry Germans scolding me, in their native tongue, to shush my child,” you huffed, swiping your socked foot up the back of his calf and frowning at him, “you’re just as much of a nightmare. She should’ve been tucking her into bed. Not running around it.”

“We’re on a small weekend holiday, Gorgeous. Lighten up a little bit, yeah?” He grinned, reaching his hand across and wrapping his fingers around yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, “have you had fun this weekend? Did I do a good job in picking a good place to come?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, nodding your head softly, “yeah, you did really good.”

“I know it’s not Paris or Italy or America but, I remember you telling me, and I think it was on our wedding night, that you wanted to go to the German markets at Christmas time. Never got around to taking you back in the year we got married ‘cause I’d just finished a tour and then we had Persephone the next year and,” he brought your hand to his mouth a pressed a kiss to your knuckles, letting his lips linger against the soft skin, “we never got the chance to go. When you said, to Gemma, a few months back, that you wanted to go awake for the weekend, at Christmas, I knew it was the best place.”

“That was over thirteen years ago,” you reminded him, his eyes landing on the glistening wedding band that decorated your ring finger, “you remember that?”

“‘course I do, you nutter. You’re my wife. I’d be a pretty shit husband if-”

You interrupted with a deliberate cough, head tilting and jerking in the direction of the kids’ room, a blush forming on his cheeks.

“I’d be a pretty bad husband if I forgot what my wife desires in life. Have to fulfil her wants in life before things come to and end,” he smiled, your lips quirking into a smirk at his correction, squeezing his hand back before pulling away, letting both hands fall into your lap, thighs draped with the thick blanket he’d packed in his carry-on - for when the plane got a little chilly during the journey and the kids wanted to snuggle. “Do you fancy finishing this bottle in bed before waking up for our flight? Or are we just going to be like a coupl’a teenagers and pull an all-nighter?”

“Can you make it passed midnight without zonking out, old man?”

“Hey, I’m only 36,” he whined, taking a swig of his wine, swishing and swirling the liquid around his mouth before swallowing, “we’re the same age, you donut. F’that makes me an old man, then, you’re an old lady.”

“I’m, what the kids would call, a milf,” you grinned playfully, kicking your feet up and resting them upon his bare ones, curling your toes around his to warm the chilled tips up, “I guess that could make you a dilf because, you’re a dad that I would very much like to fuck.”

He mocked your deliberate cough and mimicked your head movements with a smirk sitting on his lips.

“Mulled wine makes you change personas, did you know that?” There’s a silence that swallowed the both of you. The sounds of Alfie’s thick and cold-induced snores, and the gentle breathing from the girls, being heard over the rumble of the cars and buses and taxis, and beeping horns of vehicles with rushing drivers at the wheels, from down below. “Got summink planned for Christmas Day. Let’s just say the big guy in red might have some involvement in it. Think you’ll be satisfied, though. Thoroughly, thoroughly satisfied.”

#one direction preferences #one direction imagines #harry styles imagines #harry imagines #harry styles blurbs #harry blurbs #1d harry #1d harry styles #blogmas 2017

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