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coastielaceispunk · 3 years ago

Text

Grapefruit & Vodka

Maxwell Lord x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.1K+

Warnings: SMUT, Language, alcohol, dirty dancing, edging, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, oral f receiving, semi-public sex, protected p in v, Max really likes tights, you really like his hands.

Summary: You needed a night out at your favorite dance club with the girls after a particularly rough work week. You meet a handsome stranger who REALLY knows how to dance.

Main Masterlist

A/N: This story is Maxwell Lorenzano in an AU. Maxie did everything right and earned everything he has from hard work and his own business intelligence. Inspired by the character who loved latin dancing, the song Ride It by Regard, and how I miss going dancing so much during these times! Oh to dance with Maxie...please enjoy the playlist below for the night at the club!

So much love to my beta readers @lowlights and @shiftingsands14

FLOOR ONE (1404 words)

FLOOR TWO (1265 words)

FLOOR THREE (941 words)

Take Me Home Max? (1487 words)

FLOOR ONE

Movida is your favorite dance club. It’s three floors, each one catering to a different genre of dance music with incredible DJs. All the bartenders know you; it's your place. The dance floors are always packed, the drinks are damn good, and it's exactly what you need after a rough week of work. Dancing is your favorite way to blow off steam and burn some calories after being too damn busy to go to the gym. Dressed in your favorite club tank, high-waisted leather shorts, black tights, and heels you float past the friendly bouncer into the thick air. Maybe tonight you will even find a worthy dance partner. Who knows?

The first floor is Hispanic influence. Reggaeton, Latin dancing, and mostly bachata, which happens to be your favorite.

You spot friends at the bar and push your way through the crowd. Hips already moving to the current song’s enticing beat. Once you arrive at the sticky countertop, you hug your girls while squeezing into the open space between stools. Smiling wide you say hello to your favorite bar back, Kris, and you can’t help but notice she is already making your “usual”. Grapefruit juice and top-shelf vodka. She tops it off with a lime and shakes her head as you go to reach for it.

“This one is not for you, chica!” Kris yells over the music, “It seems someone else has your taste.” She winks and walks to the opposite end of the bar. Curious, your eyes follow her and the glass until it is presented to a man.

The low lights of the bar make it hard, you can’t really see him from so far away. Only able to notice the large ring-clad hand that grasps the drink, instantly engulfing the glass. Immediately mesmerizing. With a flash of the dance floor lights, you catch a glimpse of his profile and neatly styled hair as he leans in to thank Kris. Good god...the strong profile, jawline, and dark locks almost put you on your ass. The hook of his nose is so...arousing? Stop it. He is a stranger, are you really that touch deprived?

Turning your attention back to your friends you blush at the fact they catch you staring. They instantly give you shit, but you wave them off. You finish your first drink during easy conversation, bullshitting about work and hook ups. When you start on your second drink, the DJ begins to play one of your favorite bachata songs. Jumping up in excitement you look towards the DJ who is pointing at you with a smile. He knows how to start your night right. God, I love this place.

Time to dance!

Grabbing your friends you all rush to the center of the dance floor. Bachata is a dance meant for partners, so your small group trades off fluidly to the music. Small steps and wide turning steps, mixed with sensual hip swings. You're even one to hike up your knee with the beat as you move. Laughing and light from letting loose you throw your arms up while you dance alone. Now feeling the liquor warm your body and melt the stress away. That’s when you see HIM.

The man from the bar is tall with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and gorgeous legs. He is dressed in burgundy slacks and has his black button-up tucked into his pants. His sleeves were rolled up exposing his bare forearms. He has no regard for top buttons, showing off his collar bones. Currently, he’s dancing with another regular of the club. She can dance almost as well as you can, but you know you’re definitely better at bachata.

As you dance, you watch them closely. His one hand is holding her lower back and the other is interlaced with her hand over his shoulder. They are so close. His hands are so large and he towers over her. His thigh is perfectly slotted between her legs as they grind to the bachata music. His hips...holy shit. They circle and sway and change with the beat flawlessly. He is definitely leading her, she can barely keep up with his skill. He is good. The realization hits, you have to dance with him.

The song changes to one that is a little slower. Hovering in his area you watch as he thanks his partner for the dance, and exits the dance floor to grab his drink at a close-by table. He leans against it and looks in your direction, swallowing the rest of his cocktail. Not shocking that he's facing you because you are the only one without a dance partner. Others are watching too but you two make eye contact. His eyes are intense as he watches you dance. It would be a lie to say you weren’t dancing just for him. The liquor must be strong tonight.

Kris stops by his table with two grapefruit juice vodkas and he furrows his brow in question. You can’t hear what she says but she must be explaining your similar taste because he glances at you as she talks, and he smiles. Damn even his smile is sexy. Kris starts to bring yours to you but he stops her. He relieved her of your glass to set it on the table. She shrugs and turns to wink your way, good luck her face says and you giggle, twirling to the music.

When you make it back around the tall man is stalking towards you with drinks in hand. Your breath hitches at the look of him trained on you. So broad and beautiful. Standing in front of you in seconds, you continue to dance. You place a hand on his chest unable to resist, shit he is firm, and it makes him sway with you to the music. To rest his hand on your waist the man transfers a glass to his other hand, in front of your face, now holding both drinks in the same large hand. Damn. So tall up close, you wink up at him, and take one of the drinks.

“Seems we both have good taste” you practically shout at him over the loud atmosphere.

The man bends down to your ear so he doesn’t have to yell, “Seems so, bonita.”

His voice is...wow. It takes the breath out of you.

Both swaying, drinking your beverages, you size each other up. Eyes flickering up and down. When you both finish, he takes the glasses to place on a nearby table. You glance over your shoulder at your friends who are giving excited thumbs-ups.

Then, as the beat picks up again, the man pulls you towards him...to properly dance bachata.

You are practically straddling his thick thigh while standing. He takes one of your hands and interlaces your fingers, while his other hand rests on your lower back. The grip is magnificent on your body. His hips circle forward and you grind into him, stepping to the beat, and feeling the music together. The chemistry is so sensual. Hips never create space as you move in unison. Dancing so hard into each other that you both start to glisten with sweat. Breathing heavy, you look up at him and his deep brown eyes are already boring into your face. He is so handsome this close.

Are you going to kiss?

Time is lost after becoming hypnotized by his hips and pelvis on yours. Dancing bachata with the right partner turns you on so much it's embarrassing. It even turned you on to watch him dance with the other chica earlier. He feels so good. You may be having the same effect on him by what you can feel in his tight pants. You’re spacing out on lust. The man’s hooded eyes say the same. The song ends, and the haze is gone. You catch your friends waving for your attention to go to the next floor soon.

You break apart from his warm body and motion to your friends to wait. Your hand is lifted to his plush lips and he kisses your knuckles deeply, to thank you for the dance. Did you read this wrong? He smiles and nods towards your friends, you smile back, and reluctantly turn to push through the crowd. When you make it halfway up the stairs, you turn back to steal a glance and to your disappointment, he's gone.

FLOOR TWO

The second floor is hip-hop and mainstream, where you really break a sweat.

On every floor the group starts at the bar. Here comes a fourth drink along with water, thank god for hydration. Now you are really loose and ready to fuck up the dance floor.

The group is twerking, grinding on each other, and all out jumping around to the music. You are nearly out of breath but laughing and dropping to the floor with your besties. Reaching for your water a familiar form catches your eye, and there HE is again. Can he dance to this music too? He was so good at bachata. Can he let loose more here? Oh to grind on him again.

A little tipsy you manage to hone in on him as he leans up against the wall. He’s talking with another guy, someone you recognize as another regular. You dance over to him with your friends in tow.

“Hey grapefruit vodka!” you yell over the vibrating bass, “you wanna dance?!”

He smiles at you, your friends are trying to get the other guy to dance as well.

“The name is Max!” He shouts.

Leaning into MAX, both hands on his chest, you introduce yourself. Damn he smells good. Max nods towards the center of the room then you’re dragging him to the dance floor. You turn around close to him and push your ass into his crotch to grind into him, with force. Max grabs your hips and meets your grinding with his own, of course he can dance to this music too, he has the hips! His hands trail up your sides, pulling your club shirt up a little on your hip, his fingertips brushing your skin lightly. The metal of his rings cools your burning flesh and sends a flash of heat to your core. He runs his hands up to your shoulders and down your arms as the grinding continues to the song. Next, Max pulls your hands, engulfed by his own, straight above your head. Arching your back away from him you roll the meat of your ass into him. Both panting from the exertion you feel, yes feel, him growl from low in his chest. Max feels so good.

Bringing your arms down you hold the back of his neck, feeling his sweat-slick hair, and move your back flush to his chest. Breathing heavily into his neck, you make a bold decision as the beat changes and grind a little slower. So sexual. Max throws his head back slightly as his hands move over your thighs, moving across your abdomen while you dance. You take this opportunity to lick the cord of his neck, his sweat salty on your tongue. A gasp leaves his throat and he looks down at you, eyes black.

You grab Max and walk him towards an open spot on the wall to show him what you’ve really got and what your intentions are for him tonight. You shove him against the dark wall. Max let’s out a grunt as the air is pushed out of him, and he looks you up and down. Holding his hands out, palms up, he motions you closer with all fingers. His rings glint in the dancefloor lights. One of your friends is dancing with the guy from before on the same wall. Get it girl.

Giving Max a teasing smile, you run both hands over the expanse of his chest, around his shoulders, and squeeze his biceps. You continue down his torso, feeling the firmness of his slight tummy and down the outside of his hips to his thighs. You drop to an eagle squat, knees wide, and the motion purposefully suggestive in front of his widened stance. Max’s plush lips are parted, he’s staring, and you give him an innocent smile from below.

“Fuck sake,” he says under his breath and you barely catch it as you stand up ass first. You roll back up against him, pressing your hands over him in the opposite direction. You decide to make a slight detour to caress the bulge in his pants.

Max sucks in a breath at the surprising touch and spins you around to place your ass back on him and grind for friction. He is so strong. You can’t help but let out a pitiful whimper as you start to dance on him again. With the wall behind him now, the two of you can really feel each other. And good god he feels large. Max is holding your hips against him with a bruising grip, bouncing to the beat of the music. You lean all the way forward, placing your hands on the filthy floor, to practically grind your cunt onto the hardened length of him. You are dancing on him so hard, practically bent in half, becoming so wet in this dirty position.

You lift yourself a little to put your hands on your knees and start to twerk on him. Knees wide and hips rolling. Max grabs the back of your neck and squeezes slightly, the cold touch of his rings starts to coil something deep within. Max snaps you back to lean against him again, slowly moving to the beat, your arms entangling and moving to the music. Both of you panting and sweating more.

“Touching and teasing me, baby girl, but now I have to feel you,” Max whispers into the shell of your ear. It gives you a much-needed chill. Then he is spinning you both around so he can trap you against the wall, arms caging you in with either hand on the wall over your shoulders.

Still dancing perfectly to the next song, he is grinding you into the concrete, breasts pressing up into your shirt’s neckline. He pays you back when he licks a warm stripe up the side of your neck tasting your sweat, and you gasp and feel his smile against your neck. Your hands find his hips to feel him more closely. You whimper when he snaps his hips into you. Max turns you around to face him and lifts one of your legs over his thigh. He is rutting and circling his hips into you causing the seam of your leather shorts to catch your clit deliciously. You might just cum in this position, fuck you need it after all of this. Downright filthy, like the floor, if he did that to you. Good thing most other couples dancing are nearly dancing the same and do not pay any attention to the two of you.

As the song ends and transitions, Max releases your leg and lets off for air. You are both standing still for the first time in a while looking into each other's eyes. So close you are trading heated breaths.

Will he kiss you now?

Just as your eyes dip to his lips and back up your drunker friend is leaning into you both. Her boyfriend who just came from work is right behind. Max supports her as she yells at you that it's time to move on from this music. Damn, this music was going great.

“I will go grab us all some water,” Max leans in to tell you and you nod, mouthing thank you. He is so kind, and he has a nice ass. Your friend elbows as you stare then you both giggle.

When Max returns to the group that has easily accepted him he hands out the waters. The group starts to make its way up the stairs once more. This time you have Max’s hand in yours.

FLOOR THREE

The third and final floor to the club is maybe the most fun. It's all EDM and serotonin and techno. Plus it's outside and thank god for fresh air.

You’ve learned by now that Max is adaptable and can dance to anything. You can’t wait to continue to dance with him. His hand interlaced with yours the group marches across the dance floor and all take a minute to sit and relax. Saving seats you decide to sit on his lap and he doesn’t protest. You are sideways across his thighs and Max is holding your lower back, stroking absentmindedly with his thumb. His other hand is rubbing your thigh. Max must like your tights. The motions are making you hot again.

With the open air you can all chat easily with separation from the dance floor. You decide to get to know your new dance partner.

“So Max...what do ya do? Where ya from? What's ya story?” you question playfully, still having liquor in your veins.

“Well I like grapefruit juice vodkas and I like to dance.” You roll your eyes at him and he lets out a laugh; his broad shoulders bounce with it. It’s one of the best sounds in the world.

“Seriously c’mon!” swatting at his chest and he grabs your wrist, your smile drops slowly as you realize your faces are so close. Close enough that sweetened breaths are mixing in the air between lips.

“And I like you...I want you…” Max whispers to your lips.

The sexual tension is thick...

“OUR SONG, let’s go!” your friend shouts and you are being lifted from your new favorite place. Max holds on to your hand with a crinkly-eyed smile for as long as he can, arm outstretched as you are hauled away. The look of disappointment on your face makes him laugh. You laugh too at the ridiculous timing of your friends all night and go to dance your heart out.

While dancing your friend grabs you and bobs to the music waiting for the drop to come. “You know that's Maxwell Lorenzano right?!” she yells over the building music, “the self-made businessman, millionaire, all around sexy as fuck nice guy!”

The beat finally drops and you FEEL it.

Bass in your bones, treble in your muscles, liquor in your veins...you're floating.

Your face says it all, shock and oh shit, and your friends laugh at the realization. Would have never guessed he would be so normal and personable...so hot. It's kind of interesting he didn’t lead with that information. You are probably a breath of fresh air to him like being outside is now for you. Interesting.

The thought to fuck him started on floor one, and floor two solidified your plan; this information changes nothing. You are successful in your own right, and not the gold digging type. This explains all the jealous looks you got when walking up the stairs both times with and without him.

The song changes to another favorite as you continue to dance but you feel a familiar presence behind. Turning your head you tilt your chin up to meet his face, his handsome face. His broad warmth encompasses you as he wraps his arms around your form. Max is swaying and singing the words into your ear. Well, his version of the lyrics. His face says he means every word.

“Ride it like we are all alone.” You dance closer together.

“Grind it and just lose control.” He ducks his head to where your neck meets your shoulder.

“Ride it, come touch my soul.” His lips touch your burning skin.

“Ride it, let me feel you.” His hand brushes your hair to the side to expose your neck more.

“Ride it, the lights are turned down low.” He kisses you again, and your eyes roll back.

“Let me touch you from head to toe baby girl.”

You turn, pulling him closer to sway together and continue the lyrics to the song.

“Just close your eyes boy.” You run your hand through his hair.

“I’m telling you we gotta go now.” You lean up to nip his neck and he groans.

“Won't you take me home?” You bring your lips to his ear.

“I wanna ride it.” Max shivers and crashes his lips into yours.

Finally.

The kiss is desperate on his patient lips, his hand on the back of your neck. You take his plump bottom lip between your teeth and pull down, Max fucking growls and you are immediately wet again. His other hand grabs your ass to press you into him and you lick at the seam of his lips for access. Max grants it and you are licking his tongue. Sharing the same taste, literally now. He's an amazing kisser but you need more.

You break apart after a minute both with kiss swollen lips, gasping for air. Were either of you breathing just then or just living off each other?

“Well Maxwell Lorenzano, won't you take me home?” you say a little more needy than intended.

“You’ve figured me out then, bonita?” he smiles, good lord he even has a dimple.

You nod, biting your lip, “I wanted you before the third floor and none of that makes a difference to me Max, I just want you to take me home.” You throw your arms around his neck, pressing your hips into his.

Max looks at you with admiration, and then his face changes completely into something darker, it excites you. He leans down, “I can’t wait that long…”

You swallow loudly, “Can we go somewhere?”

“Come with me, baby girl.”

Take Me Home Max?

Max takes you by the waist and leads you off the dance floor, the group waves goodbye and whistles and hollers to embarrass you both. You two are too enthralled with each other to care. You can’t keep your hands off one another as you descend the club’s stairs to the second floor, and then to the first. Still packed with people enjoying the night and music, he is dragging you through the crowd towards the door. He shakes the bouncer’s hand on the way out and you give the man a smile when you pat his chest.

You are being led to the back of the parking lot towards a large black town car with a driver presently waiting.

“Simon,” Max waves, “go get yourself a drink.” The driver walks away towards the club without a word but sends you a nice smile.

There are no other cars around and no one to be seen. Fuck you can’t wait any longer. When you get to the car you pull him to face you and smash your face into his. You walk him backwards to press him against the car. Max moans into your mouth and you match his sound as he grabs at your body. It's hot and heavy, hands grabbing everywhere, tongues and teeth, and you break away for air to bite his neck. He is starting to rock himself into you and you feel him hard again. He has to be as pent up as you are.

Max walks you both along the car, switching spots and pinning you as he opens the car door. Your arm snakes down between your sweat-slicked bodies from a night of dancing to palm him over his slacks.

“Mmghh...get in pretty girl and let me show you what I’ve wanted to do all night since bachata.” You both can barely breathe in anticipation of what the night has built up.

You duck your head and climb onto the bench seat in the back of the car. It is so roomy inside. Max sits beside you quickly and shuts the door, locking it. The sound makes your fingers twitch and reach for him. Your lips are back on his and your hands are in his hair at the back of his neck. His ring-clad hand is pressed to the back of your neck again and his other is on your ribs. He slowly moves his palm to knead your breast and you sigh into his mouth. His large hands feel even better on you like this.

Soon his hand is under your bra and you are unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. You undress each other frantically trying not to prolong any longer. When Max gets to unbuttoning and shucking your shorts down your legs you are on your back with him kneeling over you. Max tosses them onto the pile of clothes and leans down to stick his face into your core, over your black tights, inhaling you with a lustful groan. His nose nudges your needy clit and you buck your hips into his face. Oh to sit on his face one day.

“You have no idea how sexy I find these, cariño.” You knew he liked them. Max gives your pussy open mouth kisses through your thin tights while rubbing your thighs. You can’t take it anymore.

“Max...please” you beg as you continue to hump his face, that's when he tears your tights at the seam causing you to gasp in shock. His mouth is back on you in an instant without the sheer barrier. You scream his name and your hands shoot down to pull his hair. Max groans at the sting and you feel the vibrations in your core. He’s eating you out like a starved man. You are a moaning, whimpering mess rolling your hips, clenching around nothing. That's when Max presses two of his long fingers into your entrance and curls them upward.

“Cum on my tongue, bonita, you taste so fucking good.”

You near the edge quickly at the pet name and praise. One more thrust of his fingers curved perfectly inside you, and him pleasuring your bundle of nerves, sends you into tingling ecstasy. You come all over Max’s mouth and chin.

“Mmm...so sweet baby girl, now you are ready for me” he smiles down at you, his chin glistening with your arousal. Max removes his pants the rest of the way with his briefs and your mouth falls open at the sight of him. Long and thick just as you suspected when grinding him into the wall. You are staring as he puts the condom on and lines himself up at your entrance. The moment you’ve been waiting for all night. You still can’t believe he made you come once already.

When he pushes into you, you both gasp and you lose your ability to breathe. Inch by inch he is breaking you open and the stretch is magnificent. When he is all the way in he leans down to kiss you, the taste of you on his tongue, “breathe baby, you’re taking all of me so well.”

“Move Max, please, fuck me. I know what your hips are capable of.” you gasp out as you find air and smile on his lips.

He grabs your thigh to bring your leg up over his hip, just like he did while dancing, and starts to thrust in and out of you with expert hips. You cry out at the amazing drag of every inch of him inside of you. As he fucks you into the backseat you lift your hips to meet his thrusts and you are both a panting, moaning, sweaty mess. It’s fucking amazing.

“Come on my cock pretty girl...your sounds are music to my ears...so tight, prettiest pussy grinding on me earlier...these tights feel so good around me...not gonna last long, been pent up all night...wanted to fuck you on that dance floor, bonita.” Max’s filthy words are just tumbling off his lips as he picks up the pace. His thumb finds your clit to press circles and pull the strings of another impending orgasm.

A few more seconds of his deep thrusts and his thumb on your clit sends your second orgasm crashing into you both as you clamp down on his dick and cum around him. Practically convulsing under him as he fucks you through the shockwaves.

“Fuck Max! So good, feels so fuckin’ good” you are panting into his mouth. His heavy breathing tells you he is close. “Feel so full, Max, fuck!”

At your words, he is pushing you up into the car door with the deepest thrusts yet as he reaches his climax. Max’s face is beautiful and his lips make the most erotic sounds. You are smiling against his neck as he grunts and moans with pleasure in your ear. He collapses on top of you and you throw your arms around him. Kissing up and down his shoulders and neck, you both try to catch your breath.

Max lifts himself up and carefully pulls out of you with a soft groan. You whine at the loss of him, he secures the condom and tosses it into the garbage bag behind the seat. You lay in bliss as he sits next to you with his head resting back, his hand stroking the top of your thighs, continuing to caress your tights.

After a minute of euphoria you break the silence, “You wanna go get one more drink and dance some more bachata to end the night?” You sit up and start to get dressed again, removing your ruined tights to leave in his car. Max looks at you in surprise.

“What?” you ask, fastening your shorts.

“Nothing...I...I would love to actually. You are the best dance partner I have ever had.” He smiles and then starts to redress too.

“Same to you.” You smile back, helping to button his shirt.

“After, maybe, I can really take you home and fuck you properly,” he says when you are both nearly dressed and about to get out of the fogged up car. You lean over to give him a chaste kiss.

“Like I sang earlier...I wanna ride you” his breath hitches and you lick him along his jawline, “c’mon, let's go drink and dance the night away. Then take me home.” He nods quickly and opens the car door, helping you out then holding you close to him.

“I don’t think I will ever want another dance partner again,” he kisses you deeply. You feel it too. The stranger at the bar just hours ago that ordered your same drink is now someone you want to know more about, spend as much time with as you can.

Thank you grapefruit juice, vodka, and lime. What a night at the club.

++++++++++

Tag list: @lowlights @shiftingsands14 @littlemisspascal

#maxwell lord #maxwell lorenzano #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #maxwell lord smut #pedro pascal #dancing the night away #damn his hips #OH MY MAX LORD #PP and I were both gogo dancers #filthy dancing #our Maxie #Spotify

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wiccansimmie · 3 years ago

Note

Do you prefer Maxis Match CC or Alpha CC?

Ooo This is a really good question. You see once upon a time, I use to do a LOT of Alpha CC content. However, I done it for SO long, I wanted to change things up. So I started to do less alpha and more Maxis Match. I wanted that little cartoony feel to it. Plus after changing things up, I enjoy Maxis with the colorful vibrant feel.

I notice some of my sims have few mixture of both. which I really like. leaning towards my original roots with a twist.

LOL so long story short, I like them both they give a distinctive feel and when you mix them together you get something great. like Garret here lol.

#ts4 #ts4ask #anonynous

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thatesqcrush · 4 years ago

Text

Time of the Month

Kevin Mulrooney x Reader. I mentioned possibly writing him again and an anon was definitely interested. Warnings: Dark!fic - dubcon, knife play, blood play, smut (they have sex while she is on her period), language. Possibly squick for many so I am only tagging those who may be interested: @beccabarba @madpanda75 @dreamlover31 @teamsladsandgents

AN: Final piece for Love You, Love You Not Bingo. Using South of the Border for my song of choice.

WC: 1.8K

“Babe, I’m a bad wife, I got Chinese for dinner.” You replied as you made your way into your Brooklyn apartment, slamming the door behind with your foot. When you received no response, you called out for your husband again.

“Kev?” You set down the bag of takeout and your work bag. You made your further into the apartment; it was eerily quiet. You pushed the door to the bedroom, when you felt a set of hands on your shoulders. You let out a scream as you whipped around and met the green eyes of your husband.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!” You frowned, hitting him slightly on the shoulder. “I hate when you sneak up on me like that. I thought you were a murderer or something.”

A smile twitched on Kevin’s face and he let out a small chuckle. “That’ll make the headline - ADA Kevin Mulrooney, secret slasher extraordinaire.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “You got Chinese for dinner?”

“Yeah.” You sighed. “It’s that time of the month and I am having the worst cramps. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Kevin replied. “Why don’t you change and I’ll set out the food.”

“You’re the best - this is why I married you.” You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Ah, see I thought you married me for my looks.” Kevin murmured, stroking your chin. His hand moved down to your neck and wrapped around it so gently, you hardly noticed. Kevin could feel your pulse throb with his thumb and his cock stirred to life.

“That too.” You replied, before raising up to kiss him once more. Kevin pulled you closer to him and you could see a glint in his eyes, causing you to arch your brow in curiosity.

“Go change.” Kevin replied, giving your ass a squeeze.

You rolled your eyes, “Okay my little murderer.” You turned and made way to the bedroom, where you changed into a tank-top and sweats. Your hair, which was loose, was bundled into a messy top-knot and you walked back to find that Kevin had spread out the food on the coffee table with chopsticks.

“What movie do you want to watch?” Kevin asked as he turned on the tv.

“Oh anything - I don’t really care.” You replied, curling up on the couch. Kevin chose a documentary, but it wasn’t really watched as the two of you ate and caught up on the day's events.

After dinner, the two of you cleaned up. You were rinsing a plate when you felt Kevin come up to you, him pressing into your back. You shivered as his lips touched your skin, trailing down kisses down the slope of your neck.

“Mmm, babe, I want to,” you protested, “but I told you, it’s that time of the month.”

“Did you know, having an orgasm can help relieve cramps?” Kevin murmured into your ear as one hand slipped under your tank top to cup your tit. He rolled your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

“I don’t know… I have never…” You continued to protest. Kevin removed his hand from your tit and slipped down and into the waistband of your sweatpants.

“Babe, I don’t want…” You protested once more, but Kevin ignored it as his hand pushed past the waistband of your panties and cupping your cunt. The back of his hand felt the material of what he assumed was your maxi pad. He was pleased you chose to wear one instead of your usual tampons. Kevin’s fingers quickly found your clitoris and he began to rub it in soft circles. He directed his mouth back to your neck, sucking marks into your skin. You moaned and closed your eyes as you gripped the lip of the sink as he continued to play with you. “Kev, I … oh fuck.”

Kevin could feel your wetness grow and he wondered how much of it was your arousal versus actual menstrual blood. He slipped his hand from inside and brought it to his face, his eyes darkening at the sight of your arousal streaked with some blood.

You happened to turn around to face him and you swallowed hard as you watched him suck his fingers clean. You opened your mouth to say something and instead you crushed your lips to his, in a rough kiss. Your hands tangled into his hair as you kissed him, hungry and desperate. “Join me in our bed.”

Kevin picked you up and smacked your ass as he brought you to the bedroom. Once in the bedroom, Kevin gave you a wicked grin before making quick removal of his clothes, his cock hard, red, and weeping.

“You trust me?” Kevin asked, breathless as he stood over your form.

You nodded. “Of course.”

You thought Kevin was going to make way to the chest in front of the bed where the two of you kept various sex toys. Instead he went to his side of the dresser and pulled out a fixed blade knife, about 5 to 6 inches in total length, with about a 3-inch blade. You scrambled up slightly, fear coursing through you as the night seemed to take an unprecedented turn.

Kevin took a step towards you, causing you to jump once more. You felt cemented in place as all you wanted to do was run but you were too panicked to do so. Kevin noticed and his gaze softened momentarily.

“I am not going to hurt you - I promise. It is sharp on one side and dull on the other.” Kevin explained as he played with the knife.

“Kevin - I don’t know…” You stammered, feeling tears well. “I love you but…”

“Shhh, relax.” Kevin replied, sitting next to you. “I am going to make you feel so good. I’m gonna put my time in. You never live 'til you risk your life.”

He pressed his lips to yours once more, kissing you gently and softly. “Trust me.” He took the knife and ghosted it under your tank top, the feel of the cold blade grazing your skin. Your heart began to beat faster and goosebumps covered your skin.

“You’re a little crazy, but I'm just your type.” You murmured.

Kevin brought the knife back up from under. He grabbed at your tank top with his other hand and jerked up with the knife in one sharp motion, tearing the material with a pained rip. You gasped as he did so. Kevin ran the blade up between the valley of your breasts before tracing the tip around your already so sensitive nipples. His hand made way down your sweatpants again, finding its way easily to your pussy. You let out a groan as he sunk a finger inside of you. As he stroked you, Kevin continued to run the knife along your body. Part of his psyche urged him to nick you, but he fought against that, focusing on your moans to keep him locked into reality.

Kevin could feel your walls flutter against his fingers, so he slipped his fingers out of you, much to your protest. He grabbed the hem of your sweatpants and pulled them down. Kneeling in front of you, he spread your legs apart.

“Kevin - no, that’s too much.” You protested again. Kevin took the knife and ran it along your inner thighs before bringing it to the waistband of your panties, and repeated the actions from earlier, tearing the material with ease.

Kevin dropped the knife and encouraged you to lift your hips to remove the ruined material. Then his mouth was on your hot, wet core, eating you out as if he were a man starved. He dragged his tongue around, tasting you and enjoying the mixture of your arousal and slight metallic taste of your blood. Your body arched in response and he moved his arm to lay it over you to keep you in place. Kevin kept a steady pace on you, watching your face as you gasped and moaned as he brought you to the edge. His teeth nipped your clit as he stroked that sensitive spot.

“Kev, oh shit, fuck, I am gonna- fuck, gonna c--” You voice faltered as you came hard around his mouth. As more of your arousal and blood mixed into his mouth, his arousal surged through his body as if something animalistic and primal was awoken.

You barely had a moment to come down, before Kevin was over you. He pushed your knees up and sunk his cock into you. You let out a gasp as he bottomed out and began to fuck you hard, and furious. Your foreheads touch and you pulled his face to yours, streaked with red. He captured your lips once more, and you gasp against his mouth. “Fuck me harder Kevin, give it to me.”

Kevin growls and picks up his pace. He pounds into your mercilessly, gripping you hard and you know come morning, you would be very much sore and his marks would remain as evidence of this night.

You angled your hips, finding friction against your clit and you can feel your orgasm begin to crest. Kevin was now chasing his own release, getting closer and closer. He let out a deep guttural groan as he stilled, coming deep inside of you. You reached between finding your clit and you rubbed until your own release crashed over you, moaning Kevin’s name.

Kevin slumped over you, and you continued to cling to him, your bodies sweaty and sticky. A thought comes across your mind and you let out a giggle. Kevin raises his head and your eyes rake over the smatters of dried blood on his face.

“I guess you earned your red wings. Oh my god, did I just say that? Still can’t believe we did that.”

Kevin removes his now softened cock from you, and he can’t help but spread your legs apart, watching his come drip out of you, no longer virginal white. A smile spreads on his face as he slips his fingers back into your cunt. You let out another moan as he starts stroking you once more. He leaned closely to you, his eyes meeting yours.

“Out of curiosity, how long does your period last?”

FIN.

#kevin mulrooney x readerr #dark fic #dubcon cw #thatesqcrushvdaybingo #kevin mulrooney imagine

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utterlyinevitable · 4 years ago

Text

The Conference (Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 2.9k Rating: T+ Warning: Some cursing Summary: Rebecca reminisces about the night she finally pushed Ethan away.

Author’s Note: ngl the last part with the ryan arc was 100% self indulgent. it was also the first thing i wrote and built the series around. have ya ever had a friend/lover/someone you never got a proper goodbye with and carried with you everything you wish you’d said? yeah. that’s what that was. it also is the perfect contrast to mc x ethan’s relationship.

Taglist: @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @aylamwrites @binny1985 @ramseysno1rookie @interobanginyourmom @queencarb @imactuallytheceoofthecompany @rookiefromedenbrook @eramsey28 @choicesficwriterscreations @heauxplesslydevoted @schnitzelbutterfingers @purpledragonturtles @ramseyandrys @ermidc @mrsdrakewalkerblog

________________________________________

I finally walked into the foreign and dimly lit tavern after wasting the beginning hours of my day off scrolling through Bumble, scouring the app for a good distraction. Eventually I found one - a legal assistant named Cameron. He was cute and his choice of profession gave me the feeling he could carry an intelligent conversation with minimal sexual advances. His tone was friendly enough and a little awkward at times but harmless. We messaged back and forth for like an hour and a half before agreeing to a date across town.

I made sure to put on my best face, watching youtube tutorials for the perfect date night eye to accompany my black cap sleeved maxi dress - you know that one with the high slit. A little bit of sultry but not enough to give him the assumption he could take me home.

I’d never been to The Happenstance tavern before. Hell, I barely had any time to explore parts of the city that weren’t directly surrounding Edenbrook. I was pumped with adrenaline for my first actual date in god knows how long. Thus for once in my life I was fifteen minutes early and decided to sit at the bar to calm my nerves.

I’m meeting a stranger I’ve had half a conversation with an hour ago! In a part of the city I’ve never been to! What am I doing!?

I didn’t even have a chance to flag down the bartender before my name was called over my shoulder.

“Rebecca,” my name fell expertly off his lips and I turned towards the velvety voice fully thinking my date was nervous enough to arrive early too.

There he was, only a footfall away. My eyes quickly and involuntarily trailed over him. His slate gray slimming slacks elongating his legs and outlining the curvature of his manhood, a navy blue polo tucked in with the two top buttons undone and form fitting to hide the taut muscles underneath but accentuating the uncertain look in his eyes.

The hair stood at the back of my neck and I swear goosebumps coated my skin.

Nope. No. Nope!

Immediately I turned right back around on my stool.

Not happening!

“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking the empty seat and motioning to the bartender for two more of whatever he had earlier.

I had been ignoring Ethan, as best I could given our close workplace dynamic. We’d only talk about patients and pertinent information to the caseload. No hello’s, how are yous or see you tomorrows. Nope. Those little accolades were reserved for friends - someone you actually give a damn about.

It had been nearly twelve weeks since we spent that last night of heated passion in my apartment; 12 weeks since I thought it was the start of something new, the start of us. As surely as he promised me we would make a future work, he took it all right back. Running all the way to the fucking Amazon. But I forgave him the moment he came back and our eyes locked in the beer garden of Donohue’s. I trusted him above all else - his reason for leaving was probably justified. Oh how wrong I was. I kissed him and he - he did nothing. He reset us without my knowledge. He made the executive decision for my heart.

That was the final straw.

He couldn’t keep toying with me and my emotions. No. No more push and pull. That’s not a lover that’s… that’s... I’m not quite sure what that was but it certainly isn’t the actions of a respected partner. He knew where I stood and I needed to take my own stand - to continue living my life as if I never experienced him.

I chose to push him away.

To move on from chasing the notion of wholly and completely loving The Ethan Ramsey. Finally.

“If you must know, I have a date,” I said with the most nonchalant malice I could muster.

There was a thick and uncomfortable silence taking up the small foot of space between our seats.

I was staring dead ahead at the bottles meticulously placed behind the bar but out the corner of my eye I could see Ethan’s eyes fell from me to the two tumblers now sitting in front of us.

I reached out for my drink, letting the cold glass soothe my boiling blood. “At least someone wants to date me.” I muttered it mostly to myself, but secretly hoping the words would hit him where it hurts the most.

Take the hint and leave, Ethan.

His voice was even and the words melted off his tongue like butter, “It has nothing to do with want, you know that.” It was a truth he came to know.

My eyes now fixated on the decorative mirror behind the bar as I took a drag of the scotch, hoping to take a peek at how my words affected him. With a thick roll of my eyes I shrugged, “Want, can’t, what’s the difference?”

“The difference is your professional development and our jobs,” his voice was straight as he repeated his same rationale over and over again. “Once you’re an attending -”

That’s a new additive. What -?

The last words took me by surprise. He’d never added them into the mix of rejections before - he never added a glimmer of hope into the mix before…

Don’t let him suck you back in, Bec.

I shook my head dismissively to myself. “You’ll find other excuses to push me away.” I brought the liquid to my lips as I took a moment to let myself turn enough to see his full body language. He was at the edge of his seat, body angled towards me, one arm leaning on the bar and the other tightly gripping his thigh, his scotch untouched and forgotten. An onlooker would assume he was a casual man but to me he looked distraught; the careful ridges in his daily features had fallen.

Good.

My glass hovered just above my lips and I could feel the heat from Ethan’s gaze boring into my cheek. With a little bit of courage and a sly smirk I added, “Either way you’ve made your choice and I'm moving on, don’t worry.”

I checked the time on my phone, downed the rest of the scotch in my glass and slipped off the stool gathering my things into my bag, preparing to head to the back where I agreed to meet Cameron at a reserved table.

My feet fled all of two steps before there was pressure on my forearm grounding me back towards the bar. I whipped around to finally see him face to face, my heels bringing me to his level.

We were close. Much too close. In the simplest of movements his body could be flush against mine.

Stop, Rebecca, don't go there. Don’t think about it - don’t think about his lips or…

I was acutely aware of his firm yet gentle hold. His shoulders once stiff and rigid fell with vulnerability. His soft and supple lips were parted and begging to be bitten.

Pull yourself together, woman!

“Rookie,” his grip on the back of my arm tightened, lighting every nerve in my body on fire. “Rebecca,” he breathed, “Please.” Ethan’s stormy blue eyes were pleading, conveying all he wished he had the strength to say.

I tried to coax it out of him, “Say it.”

“I -”

Even now. Even with me visibly moving to put us in the past like he instructed and the shattered heart he must have had, he doesn’t have the balls to tell me.

If he can’t say it he can’t have me.

“Say it and I’ll stop,” I taunted. “I’ll squash this right now.”

Our eyes locked in showdown. Enraged brown overtaking conflicted icy blue. Standing my ground with a tightened jaw I internally gave him just three seconds before I pulled away once and for all.

Three...

His grip on my arm loosened.

Two...

His eyes squeezed closed and he shook his head.

O-

I was being pulled towards the exit by my hand.

“Lets go,” Ethan said gruffly as he laced out fingers together in a tight hold.

My heart fluttered, Good enough.

I wish I was stronger. God, do I wish I was strong enough to pull away from the black hole that is Ethan Ramsey but I couldn’t. His gravitational pull was too strong. I was and will forever be sucked in. I had a probably perfectly nice boy waiting for me in the other room with a promise of mutual affection. And what did I do?

I got into Ethan’s car.

On the drive we sat in silence, Ethan’s hand never freeing mine except to start the car. The purple and pink evening Boston sky passed by the window. I smiled at the people out the window who were still going about their day and, for the first time in months, I was content. Content with my feelings that never seemed to fade away no matter how hard I tried. Content that he feels the same way. Content that this is an actionable promise that we can be something.

I noticed Edenbrook pass in the distance. My eyebrows furrowed as I realized we were getting further from his apartment complex. The other all-too-familiar street now coming into view.

“Ethan, what the fuck. You’re taking me home?”

He said nothing.

“I thought…” I trailed off, mentally chastising myself for thinking he’d actually give in and let ourselves be happy. I huffed, “So I can’t have fun and I can’t have you. That seems fair…” I tried to free my hand but he held onto me tighter.

A few moments of time passed in the dead silence of his car. Ethan was focused on the road ahead and I was trapped in limbo. Again.

“Are you gonna say anything?” I bit, clearly needing an explanation for this round of betrayal.

He opened his mouth slightly but nothing came out. My unencumbered rage started bubbling over like an active volcano.

WHAT THE FUCK!!!

“Let me out, Ethan.” I said sternly and yanked my hand out of his. His hand now left palm up on the center console as he kept driving.

And he wasn’t slowing down.

I rose my voice through gritted teeth, “Let me out of the fucking car right now.”

Still the side streets passed behind us at a steady pace. Surely he was ignoring me.

My red hot anger reached my ears when I yelled, “Doctor! Ramsey!”

Ethan jumped bringing both hands securely on the steering wheel. Within thirty seconds he pulled the car over. Panic set in and I needed to use all my strength to control my breathing.

Not again. He’s not doing this to me again.

As soon as the car stopped at the curb I unbuckled my seat-belt.

Still staring out the windshield and white knuckles gripping the wheel he begged, “Please let me get you home safely.”

I scoffed, “I can take care of myself.”

What the fuck does he want from me?

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed, “I know.”

I looked over at him completely dumbfounded. If we weren’t going to be anything he should just let me move the hell on.

“I’m not your responsibility,” I said honestly through my rage as I moved to get out of the car. “I know deep down you want to help but you’re not. You’re making things worse.” I looked over at him. His fingers left his nose and he started to sit up straighter at my words. “You - You…”

I wanted to tell him he’s broken my heart over and over again. I wanted to tell him how much I missed him and that if he just promised me we’d give us a proper try I’d forgive him. But I didn’t, because saying those words out loud wouldn’t change a thing. Everything with Ethan was inevitably complicated.

He looked over at me for the first time since the tavern. The whites of his eyes were starting to go red and my chest began to ache at the sight. He shakily asked, “I… what?”

Why do you keep doing this to yourself?

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” Furiously I pulled the door handle and jumped out of the car as best as my dress would allow. The air in the car was suffocating.

Behind me I heard the car shut off and a loud slam of the door. There were two beeps alerting me that Ethan did indeed leave his car in the no parking zone. Heavy footfalls caught up to me on the sidewalk accompanied by the uneven huffs of breath from the brisk jog.

“Let me walk with you. Please.”

We were only a 10 minutes walk away from my place. As mad as I was at Ethan for the false pretenses, I was angrier at myself for falling for it. For letting him have me unconditionally. The thought of going through this same old cycle with him again and again made me nauseous.

I can’t do this anymore.

“Stop,” we both ceased our movements at my definitive tone. Turning to Ethan I saw the storm brewing within. Frankly, I didn’t give a damn. “You’re not listening to me.”

His eyes widened like that of a scolded child.

My next words were frank and to the point, “I cannot do this anymore. You cannot turn up and pretend you care when it’s convenient for you.”

“I do -”

“No.” I shook my head. “You’re self-serving,” the words fell quickly off my expert lips. “Choose me or lose me, Ramsey. You don’t get both.”

I paused my rant for a brief second expecting the rebuttal that never came.

“I’m confused enough as it is,” I continued. “Jus - Just get back in your car and find me when you figure your shit out.” I bit my lip before harshly saying, “I’ll be fine without you.”

There on the narrow street on a Tuesday evening in Boston my chest tightened as I took one final look at the man I once trusted above all else. His hair windswept, cheeks flush, shoulders slumped in defeat and...

His hand twitched at his side beginning to reach out for mine. But I was quicker on my heels, turning around and storming off.

The last thing I heard as I sauntered off with a heavy heart was the unlocking of a car.

“Hey, I thought you had a date tonight?” Sienna asked from the kitchen when she saw me cross the threshold of our apartment.

“It didn’t happen,” I said flatly.

“Oh no!” My dearest friend started moving around the kitchen, pulling out all the comfort food we had on tap - a pint of ice cream, cookies she had made earlier that evening, a bag of popcorn - all because she thought I was stood up.

“I…” Fuck, how do I tell her? “didn’t make it.”

Sienna stopped in her tracks and her light brown eyes looked up in confusion, “Huh?”

I shouldn’t feel guilty but I do. Sienna’s the only person who would understand, she did catch him sneaking out of my room that last morning. She’s also the only person whose opinion matters most to me. My stomach tied in knots as I sighed, “Ethan…”

“What!” she practically shouted. Luckily the others were in their rooms for the night otherwise it would have been a very awkward conversation between us. Having to tell Aurora about Ethan is another certain kind of hell I’d rather not deal with any time soon.

“He was at the bar,” I began to explain in complete exasperation. “Of course he was at the bar, of all the bars in Boston he had to choose this one tonight.” I threw my hands in the air for dramatic effect. The irony isn’t lost on me; I agreed to The Happenstance because I knew I wouldn’t run into anyone I know and yet the one person I absolutely never would have wanted to see was already there. “He stopped me before I could meet the guy.”

There was a hopeful gleam in Sienna’s eyes, “And?”

“And he had the audacity to drive me home.” I made a ‘here I am’ motion with my arms.

“That’s it?” she pouted, obviously wanting this story to have a happy ending.

I leaned my arms on the counter and rested my head in my hands, trying to rub the evening out of my eyes and the weight of what I’d said finally sinking in.

“I told him to leave me alone until he got his shit straight. I’m done with him,” my voice cracked at the end and I hoped Sienna didn’t hear it.

If she did, she didn’t let on because her next question was, “Then… why don’t you call that guy and tell him something came up at the hospital?”

Why wasn’t I going to call Cameron? Well for starters I was embarrassed for standing him up - no fake medical emergency could blow that over. I also never wanted to set foot in another bar again - Ethan can set claim to every bar in the state for all I care. I don’t want to see him outside of work ever again.

If you don’t want anything to do with him why do you feel so guilty?

With a weighted sigh I said, “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”

And that’s the story of how I pushed the man I loved away.

___________________

A/N: becca is literally the most unreliable narrator, she’s so problematic 😔 also sorry for this chapter, it’s not the best thing i’ve written :/ fun fact: this scene started out as a one shot called ‘good enough’

comment/reblog bc i need the validation

#had mc stand up my actual husband #soz lover #lol #open heart #open heart fanfic #choices open heart #choices fanfic #choices oph2 #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #oph #oph ff #ff

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thisismandee · 5 years ago

Text

The Rebel and The Criminal

Chapter 6) Are you a Virgin?

The time was 7:45, I noticed that Bender still seemed a bit steamed from the exchange that happened earlier. I was debating whether or not I should say anything to him or not. He had been nothing but a prick all day, but that doesn’t mean that he deserved the treatment that he was getting. I decided that it wouldn’t hurt to try to be nice to him. I took the piece of paper that was in front of me and crumple it up. I threw it in his direction, but I missed hitting him and instead it landed on the table in front of him. Either way it still got his attention.

He turned around to look at me. He had an annoyed look, but I was already in this deep I might as well go for it.

“Are you okay?” I whispered to him. Trying to make sure I didn’t grab the attention of the others in the room. He just looked at me for a second before he responded.

“I don’t need your sympathy, sweets.” He then turned back around. I was a bit annoyed. I went out of my way to try to be nice and it bite me in the butt. Oh well, at least I could say that I tried to make everything better.

***

I watched as the clock just ticked by. It seemed like it was going by at a snail's pace. I looked around the room. Claire was daydreaming, Andrew was playing with his sweatshirt, the Brain was messing around with his stuff. The girl in the corner was drawing on the desk. And Bender, well Bender decided to light his shoe on fire, and then proceeded to light his cigarette with his shoe. I watched as he slapped the flame out.

I decided to take this time to zone out and maybe day dream a bit. I took the jacket I had and put it under my head to use it as a pillow. After what felt like ten minutes, my eyes began to get heavy. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep.

***

I got woken up to hearing Vernon coming into the room. I didn’t bother opening my eyes.

“Wake up!” He said, but I refused to move, and I don’t think anyone else moved either. “Who has to go to the lavatory?”

My hand shot up and I also heard everyone else move, so my best guess we all raise our hands. I was glad to be able to finally get up and stretch my legs.

***

The time was now 10:22. Bender was sitting at the front desk ripping pages out of a book. The Brain was leaning on a pillar close by. Andrew was stretching his legs out on the railings that was nearby. Claire and the other girl remained sitting in their seats. I decided to sit right on top of the table that Bender was sitting at earlier.

Bender continued to rip out the pages in the book and he threw them in the air. “That’s real intelligent.” Andrew commented.

Bender replied, “You’re right, it’s wrong to destroy literature.” He continued to tear out the pages in the book. “It’s such fun to read and,” He looked at the pages of the book, “Molet really pumps my nads!”

“Mol-yare” Claire says from her seat looking over at the group of us.

“I love his work” The Brain said from his spot by the pillar. Bender threw the rest of the book over at him for that comment. John then takes a draw full of catalogue cards and begins to mix them up. All I have to say is I am glad that I don’t have to work in the library after Bender has been in here. I would not want to have to pick up this mess.

“Big deal, nothing to do when you’re locked in a vacancy.” Bender says.

“Speak for yourself.” Andrew responds.

“Do you think I’d speak for you? I don’t even know your language!”

Andrew ignores Benders comment and instead turns to face Claire.”Hey, you grounded tonight?” Claire gives him a shrug.

“I don’t know, my mom said I was but my dad told me to just blow her off.” She says.

“Big party at Stubbies, parents are in Europe. Should be pretty wild.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, can you go?”

“I don’t it” Claire sighed.

“How come?” Andrew questioned

“Well, cause if I do what my mother tells me not to do, it’s because my father says it’s okay. There’s like this whole big monster deal, it’s endless and it’s a total drag. It’s like any minute, divorce.”

Bender decided to speak up. “Who do you like better?”

“What?”

“You like your old man better than your mom?”

“They’re both strict”

Bender shook his head. “No, I mean if you had to choose between them.”

Claire shrugs and looks down at the table, “I dunno, I’d probably go live with my brother. I mean, I don’t think either one of them gives a shit about me. It’s like they use me just to get back at each other.”

“HA!” We all whipped our heads around to find the source. It was the girl in the back of the room. She blew some of her hair out of her face. She gives all of us a grin. I was shocked, she did speak.

“Shut up!” Claire snapped at her. I couldn’t help myself I glared at Claire. She didn’t even know this girl and she was being rude.

“You’re just feeling sorry for yourself.” Andrews says.

“Yeah, well if I didn’t nobody else would.” I couldn’t believe she was saying this.

“I doubt that. If you told your friends, they would feel sooo sad for you.” I spoke up from the table. Claire gave me a mean look. She was about to say something when Andrew interrupted.

“Aw, you’re breaking my heart”

“You guys are one to talk. Hey Newbie, do you get along with your parents?” Bender decided to ask me.

“No, and before you get to ask me. I would choose my mom. Correction, I did choose my mom. My parents got a divorce in December.” I snapped right back at Bender. I don’t think he was expecting that type of answer. He gave me a blank expression. I was not going to deal with this kid anymore today. I had tried to be nice to him, and then he came in and started to single me out. I was not going to play this game. I think he caught the hint because he turned his attention to Andrew.

“What about you sporto? You get along with your parents?” Bender then jumps down from the desk he was sitting on and jumps over the railing to face Andrew.

“Well if I say yes, I’m an idiot, right?”

“You’re and idiot anyway, but if you say you get along with your parents, well you’re a liar too!” Bender starts to walk away then all of a sudden Andrew pushes Bender.

“You know something man, If we weren’t in school right now, I’d waste you!”

Bender pints his middle finger to the floor. “Can you hear this? Want me to turn it up?” He begins to flip his finger around so he is now flipping off Andrew.

I see the Brain stand up and get in between the two boys. “Hey fellas I mean, I don’t like my parents either. I don’t, I don’t get along with them, their idea of parental compassion is just, you know, wacko.”

Bender turns to face the Brain, “Dork”

“Yeah?”

“You are a pren’t wet dream, okay?” Bender starts to walk away, but the Brain was not going to stop there.

“Well that’s a problem!”

“Look, I can see you getting all bunged up for them making you wear these kinda clothes. But face it, you’re a Neo-Maxi-Zoom-Dweedbie! What would you be doing if you weren’t out making yourself a better citizen?”

“Do you have to insult everyone?” Andrew asks Bender.

“I’m being honest, asshole! I would expect you to know the difference.”

“Yeah well, he’s got a name!”

“Yeah?” Bender said while raising one eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Andrew looks over to the Brain. I am not going to lie I was a bit excited to finally learn this kids name. “What’s your name?”

“Brian” The Brain responds.

“See”

Bender looks over at Brian. “My condolences”

Claire speaks upf from the front of the room. “What's your name?” She directs towards Bender.

“What's yours?”

“Claire”

“Ka-Laire?”

Claire seemed offended by his response. “Claire, It's a family name”

“No, It’s a fat girl’s name” I couldn’t help but hold in a chuckle. I knew exactly what he was talking about. I had a friend in the past and she also had a fat girls name.

“Well thank you”

“You’re welcome”

“I’m not fat!” Calire yells at Bender.

“Well not at present but I could see you really pushing maximum density. You see, I’m not sure if you know this, but there are two kinds of fat people. There’s fat people that were born to be fat, and then there’s fat people that were once thin but they became fat. So when you look at them you can sort of see that thin person inside. You see, you’re gonna get married, you’re gonna squeeze out a few puppies and then uh...” Be fills his cheeks with hair and makes a fat noise. Claire flips him off. “Oh obscene finger gestures from such a pristine girl”

“I’m not that pristine”

Bender bends down and gets closer to Claire. “Are you a virgin? I’ll bet you a million dollars that you are. Let’s end the suspense, is it gonna be a white wedding?” These comments were actually starting to get me pissed off. I didn’t like the populars that much, but I think someone's sexual life is not a topic that should be talked about in front of a bunch of strangers.

“Why don’t you just shut up?” Claire exclaimed.

“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?” I felt my blood starting to boil. “Have you ever been felt up? Over the bra, under the blouse, shoes off, hoping to God your parents don’t walk in?” I began to stand up from the table. No one deserves to be harassed like this.

“Do you want me to puke?” Claire asked him. I could see on her face that she was getting upset.

“Over the panties, no bra, blouse unbuttoned, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?” Before I knew it I was right next to Bender. He hadn’t noticed, but I was fed up with his shit attitude, and at this point I was blinded my rage. Before I knew it, my hand was in a fist. In a blink of an eye my fist had made contact with Benders jaw. Oh my god, I just punched John Bender.

#the breakfast club #breakfastclub #john bender x reader #john bender #john bender x oc #andrew clark #allison reynolds #claire standish #brian johnson #fanfiction #therebelandthecriminal

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riseandshinelittleblossom · 6 years ago

Text

Down and Dirty in Nashville Pt. 2~ Dirty Little Secrets

loThis is another entry into the marvelous Cordonians Gone Wild AU created by @speedyoperarascalparty @ao719 @cocomaxley and @leelee10898 . thanks again ladies for inviting me along! Catch up here.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the TRR characters, they own me.

My tags: @fullbeaumonty@brightpinkpeppercorn@hopefulmoonobject@itsstillnotwhatyouthink @blackwidow2721@choiceslife@dancetothestoriesinyoursoul

CGW tags: @annekebbphotography @carabeth @moneyfordiamonds@give-me-ernest-sinclaire @3pawandme @ooo-barff-ooo@tornbetweentwoloves@ownworldresident @lodberg

As always if you want to be added or deleted let me know!

Stephanie awoke with a sinful sensation coursing through her body. Peering over her shoulder she found Maxwell, chest pressed against her back as he planted gentle kisses to the back of her neck. She felt his fingers between her thighs gently stroking her core.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck as he hummed “Happy Birthday.”

“Maxwell?”

“Did you think I forgot? It's your birthday, Red. I wanna start your day off special.” He pressed his lips to her shoulder, then her shoulder blade, and finally the top of her spine before she rolled to face him.

“And what exactly did you have in mind?” she giggled.

*************************

Stephanie and Maxwell joined their friends in the kitchen. Alicia and Leo were making pancakes while Liam was frying bacon.

“So I've got bad news. Our dinner reservations are being pushed to tomorrow night. Something about a banquet...anyway we were double booked. So it looks like we need new plans for tonight.” Anitah told everyone as she came into the kitchen, phone in hand.

“Don't think we've forgotten that you all lost last night's bet either.” Alicia said pointing at the guys with her spatula.

“That's right! You all will still have to dress up like us for dinner tomorrow.” Gen reminded.

“False. That wasn't a win. Maxwell cheated. The little turncoat. He went to perform with your team.” Leo scoffed.

“Hey! They were having more fun than we did! I couldn't help myself.” Maxwell defended himself and Liam shook his head.

“Leo's right. Maxwell voided the bet.”

“No way, guys. A win is a win. We expect you all to look gorgeous tomorrow. You too, Maxie.” Stephanie grinned. The guys rolled their eyes.

“Fine. But from here on out, you ladies can have Beaumont. We see where his loyalties lie. Stef, you can stick with us.” Drake commented.

“Well it's my little Rosebud's birthday today. I say we go dancing to celebrate.” Maxwell chimed in.

“It's your birthday, Stef? I had no idea. Happy birthday!” Pam exclaimed.

A chorus of happy birthdays later and everyone agreed to a night of bar hopping and dancing in downtown Nashville.

***************

“More booze?” Rashad asked, already a little more than tipsy as they all stumbled into the rental house.

“Hell yes! Drake you be bartender!” Stephanie shouted, the alcohol already coursing through her veins amplifying her voice.

Drake rolled his eyes reluctantly letting go of his wife's waist to take his place behind the kitchen island. We waved his hand over the dozen or so bottles of liquor scattered on the counter.

“The ladies each get ONE drink outta me, then it's someone else's turn to keep bar.” he announced, already mixing the first drink. He dropped in a sprig of mint leaves and pushed it across the counter.

“Here ya go, Brooks.” He laughed as Anitah grabbed the mojito with a smile.

“Who's next? How about the birthday girl?” He nodded towards Stephanie.

“Long island iced teeeeeeeeea.” She giggled leaning so far over Maxwell's lap she nearly fell over.

“Careful, Red. Let's try to stay up right.” Her fiance laughed. He'd seen Stephanie casually drink before. He'd even seen her a little tipsy, but this was like a whole new side of the love of his life and it amused him.

Drake approached the couch where the couple sat a few moments later, long island iced tea in hand and an uncharacteristic smug grin on his lips.

“This time it's my turn to get your girl white girl wasted, Beaumont. Think you can handle her?” He joked.

“I am NOOOOOT white girl wasted, Drake. I'm birthday girl sauced thank you.” Stephanie clarified. Maxwell and Drake shared a look as the ladies laughed.

A beer for Gen, a glass of Cabernet for Pam and a Malibu bay breeze for Alicia and Drake finally returned to the living room, taking his seat next to Pam, one arm around her shoulder.

The fellas had filtered in and out of the kitchen already, pouring their own drinks and Leo was the last to return, with a bowl, some paper and pens, and his drink, completing their circle as he plopped down between Gen and Alicia on the floor.

“Okay, okay..so the rules are you have to write a secret…” Stephanie explained, her speech slurred. “Don't show innie-one then throw em in the bowl. We mix em up and take turns readin em. Everyone has to guess who wrote that secret. If you guess right good for you. If you guess wrong, even better cuz ya gotta drank.”

“Anyone else notice how strong her accent is when she drinks?” Maxwell chuckled. Stephanie shushed him, playfully elbowing his side.

“Oh yeah, we've noticed.” Gen laughed.

Everyone scrawled down a secret, tossing the balled up papers into the bowl and Stephanie shook them around. She arched an eyebrow at Brad who stood in the corner, ever vigilant.

“Hey there, cowboy. Will you do us a solid and read these? It's no fun if we can guess the handwriting.”

Brad took the bowl, picking up a few balls and dropping them, further mixing the selections.

“Okay first secret: my significant other and I had sex in Bastien's bed.” Brad read, his eyes going wide as some in the group began to snicker.

“Hmmmm.its either Leo or Alicia...I'm bettin Leo.” Stephanie announced.

“Look at his face! It's totally Leo!” Gen agreed.

After a few more guesses Leo revealed that, yes it was his secret.

Brad reached back into the bowl. “Okay, uh….” Brad's face had suddenly become a deep shade of crimson. His eyes flicked toward Rashad and he took a giant scissor step backwards, away from the group.

“C'mon Brad. Read it already!” Anitah called. He gulped and finally read, “I slept with Anitah's security guard, Brad.”

The ladies giggled wildly as Drake, Alicia and Pam all pointed at Gen.

Rashad arched an eyebrow in his girlfriend's direction.

“I totally did, okay? It's my secret!” She said taking a long pull of her beer.

“Was he good? He looks like he'd be good in bed…” Pam giggled

Gen narrowed her eyes at her friend, purposely avoiding Rashad's gaze as she turned a bright shade of red, before finally answering, “Mmmmhmm. Yep. Really good, Pam.”

“Next secret!” Brad exclaimed speedily grabbing another paper. “It says ‘my golden number is 8. 8 people.”

“Well we know it's not mine.” Leo laughed, hands up defensively. “Is it Liam?”

“That's a.. how did Stephanie say it? That's a draaaank.” Liam poorly attempted a southern drawl. “It's not my secret, brother.”

A few more incorrect guesses were shouted and finally Pam said, “We know it's not Anitah, Leo, Liam, Gen, or me. I know it isn't Drake…”

“Wait why does it just say people?” Leo asked.

“Obviously so it doesn't give away the answer by saying men or women.” Drake rolled his eyes.

“Or perhaps because it means BOTH men and women.” Rashad chimed in.

“My guess is Stephanie.” Leo said crossing his arms over his chest. “And I'm also willing to bet that Rashad is right. She's been with chicks AND dudes.”

Stephanie raised her glass, gently bowing her head in Leo's direction. “Guilty as charged.” She drawled and took a sip of her long island iced tea, her fiance's bottom jaw smacking the floor.

“No….not my Rosebud. I feel like this is something we should have already taken advantage of somehow.” He commented.

“Wait, I'm...I'm confused. Stephanie has been with 8 guys? That's what we're talking about?” Drake chimed in.

“No, Drake. Your cousin has been with 8 PEOPLE.” Pam tried to explain, but her husband just blinked at her, clearly still confused.

“Drake it's because I'm-” Stephanie started but Pam cut her off.

“I'll explain it to you later, baby. Let's move onto the next secret.”

“This one says: I've slept with Olivia Nevrakis….multiple times.” Brad dutifully read the next paper.

“That's Drake Walker! I know it, I know it!” Stephanie exclaimed, and Drake looked as if he were about to lunge across the room at her. Liam's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped momentarily. The king quickly corrected his features while Maxwell spit his drink in a wide spray all over Brad's legs. “S-sorry, Brad. Drake slept with Livvy?”

Pam quirked an eyebrow. “Figured as much. Oh and by the way, remind me to thank her for all she taught you.”

Drake looked at his feet, unable to meet Pam's eyes, even if she'd taken it in good humor.

“Can we move on please?” He asked.

“Moving on!” Brad declared. “I spit in Madeline's food.”

Everyone pointed at Alicia who merely shrugged, proud of herself as she took a swig. “She deserved it.”

“I slept with Kiara Castelsarreillan.” Brad said.

The group exchanged glances. “Um...was that a confession, Brad? Because ew.” Anitah piped up, but the guard shook his head. “It's a secret, your majesty.”

All eyes fell to Drake who scrunched his nose is disgust. “ You guys JUST read mine. I only put one secret in there.” Everyone took a drink, contemplating their next guesses.

“Gotta be Rashad. That's my guess.” Maxwell announced, and Rashad sheepishly nodded.

Pam threw her head back in the deepest belly laugh imaginable, finger thrust towards Genevieve in an accusatory fashion.

Gen looked appalled as she glared at Rashad, screwing her face into a disgusted scowl.“Really? How long ago was this? Do I need to have my skin bleached?!”

“Years ago! I was nineteen and drunk. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” Rashad explained.

“Only a few left.” Brad stated uncrumpling the next paper. “Olivia Nevrakis took my v-card.”

“Liam. If Drake slept with her, Liam definitely did.” Alicia guessed.

“Sorry to disappoint, Alicia, but I did not give my virginity to the duchess.” Liam replied as Anitah smiled at him. Liam gulped inaudibly.

“S'gotta be Maxie then. Was it you, baby? Who's this Olivia chick anyway?” Stephanie questioned.

Pam reached for her phone and swiped a bit. “She has been really helpful with fundraising for the clinic, actually. Here's a pic of us at the last fundraiser we did.” She passed the device to Stef who looked over the tall, thin fiery haired woman standing next to Pam.

“That must be where Maxwell's red hair kink started!” Gen bellowed, slapping her knee jovially. Stephanie handed Pam her phone and her head snapped in her fiance's direction. “What?” He asked defensively. “I do NOT have a red hair kink. That's not the only thing I love about you. It's just a coincidence.”

“Coincidence my ass!” Anitah called, fingers flying over the screen of her smartphone. She thrust the screen in Stephanie's direction, a picture of Maxwell clearly intoxicated, dancing with a woman with bright red hair. Gen, Pam,and Alicia had other shots of Max with various red headed women. Even Leo showed Stephanie a picture of Maxwell grinding on a rather handsome ginger man.

“Looks like you're just full of secrets, aren't you Beaumont?” Stephanie asked, folding her arms across her chest, a smug look on her face.

“It isn't...like...that….thanks a lot guys!” Max stammered, his cheeks flushing.

“On to the next. I was in a brief but steamy relationship with Isaiah Domvallier.” Brad announced.

“Steamy? What the hell does that mean?” Drake barked in Pam's direction.

She sunk deeper into the couch. “How do you know it was my secret?” She asked innocently.

“Well it certainly isn't Liam's.” He retorted.

“ Okay, so it was me, but it was before you Drake, honest. It was very brief.”

“And steamy...I heard. How many times?” Drake's jaw clenched.

“Aw Drake, come on. Green ain't your color!” Stephanie chided.

“A few. No more than ten.” Pam admitted and Drakes fists tightened into perfect balls.

“I knew he was shady...no offense Rashad.”

Rashad laughed, “ None taken. That relationship is actually how I met Pam in the first place.”

“Final secret.” Brad began and all eyes turned to Liam, everyone knowing it had to be his.

“I slept with Olivia Nevrakis.”

Drake and Maxwell shared a look before turning back to Liam.

Anitah was fuming.

“When? How many times, Liam?!”

Liam fumbled with his fingers nervously, looking directly at Anitah. “ I...well...it was a long time ago. Before my social season.”

“You said you didn't sleep with her.” Anitah accused, poking the king in his chest, one hand on her hip.

“I said she didn't take my virginity, Nitah. I never said I didn't sleep with her.”

“Well there's another good question! If not Liv, then who? Who got the king's v-card?”

You could practically see the steam rising from Anitah's ears as she crossed her arms.

“Nitah…” Liam began, but his wife's raised eyebrows told him that he'd better find an answer.

“If Drake leaves, I will gladly tell you.”

“Oh, no way in hell am I leaving now, Li. I wanna hear this.” Drake smiled.

Liam rolled his eyes. “Alright fine. But may I remind you, if you hit me it's treason. I lost my virginity to….Savannah Walker.” Liam squared his shoulders trying to look regal. “Are you happy now, Anitah?”

The queen's jaw dropped open momentarily. “ Savannah I can live with, but Olivia..we will definitely be talking about this again.”

“Well I'm sure as hell not happy now. What the fuck, Liam? My little sister? Really?” Drake snarled. His face was beet red and his jaw was clenched. Drake looked as if her we're a bomb about to explode. Pam placed a hand on his shoulder, silently calming her husband by measures.

“I'm very sorry Drake. I should have told you sooner.” Liam replied, embarrassed.

“Well I guess Duchess Lythikos has certainly made her rounds among the court.” Rashad laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

“What about Anitahs secret?” Alicia asked as Brad placed the empty bowl on the table.

Anitah looked like a doe in headlights.

“I guess I forgot to throw one in.” She shrugged.

“Well that's not fair. I want to know your secret.” Liam demanded.

“How does it feel to want, my king?” Anitah asked.

The ladies laughed as they watched Liam's famous vein pop out of his neck as he gritted his teeth.

“ This isn't funny, my queen. Rules are rules. What's your secret?”

The queen placed a finger to her chin, mock-thinking.

“I know! Why don't you go find Olivia and ask her for a secret, Liam?”

Although they had had a good time playing the secrets game, everyone was still just a little tense as the couples headed off to bed.

Stephanie starfished atop the bed, tilting her head to the side as Maxwell slipped the shoes off of her feet.

“Did you have a happy birthday, Rosebud?” He asked and she smiled against the sheets.

“Mmmhmmm. Oh, but did you have fun too? It's your stag party weekend after all.” She questioned sitting up to face him.

“As long as I'm with you I'm having fun.” He laughed, sliding her shirt over her head, replacing it with one of her silk nightgowns. She leaned back and drunkenly peeled her skin-tight jeans down her legs as Maxwell pulled off his jeans and t-shirt, crawling into bed beside her.

“Good. And I can't wait to see how hot you and the guys will look tomorrow night for dinner.” She giggled, curling her body into him as the little spoon.

“Are you sure you ladies can handle the competition? I mean we are totally gonna slay tomorrow night. It's been a long time since Leo and I busted out our high heels.”

“A long time, huh? You have GOT to tell me that story, baby.”

“All in good time, Red. You'll get to hear all of the stories.” Maxwell assured her, but she was already asleep.

#cordoniansgonewild #cordonians gone wild AU #down and dirty in nashville #doe and stag weekend #maxwell x stephanie #liam x anitah #leo x alicia #drake x pam #rashad x genevieve #choices trr #trr fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices stories you play

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voluptuous-love-4-kpop-blog · 6 years ago

Note

hiya!! could you possibly write for hyungwon or sehun ?? either something that has to do with the person being confident and that making hyungwon/sehun more attracted to them (maybe it being summer could help with any ideas you have??) thank you nonetheless and even if you don't i hope you have a nice day !!

Pairing: Hyungwon x Chubby Reader

Rating: M

Genre: NSFW Smut

It was a fashion show for Charity and you were one of the models, it was a mixture of different models too. There were a few that looked like actual Models, there were teenagers, older women and also some plus size women like you. Of course, there were male models too and your friend was freaking out for you because one of them was a Kpop Idol, one from your favorite group of Monsta X. Chae Hyungwon!

You were just coming off the runway, going backstage after strutting your stuff almost oozing confidence, giving life to the outfit you had on. Your curvaceous body in a beautiful dark blue wrap maxi dress with a thigh high slit had everyone mesmerized. Even a certain pinky haired blonde with sleepy eyes that was watching from the wing, he couldn’t believe your confidence and couldn’t wait to walk on the lane with you.

“How were you not nervous up there, Y/N?” Your friend who you talked into modeling with you had asked. She was chubby just like you but unfortunately, lacked the confidence that you had despite you trying to help her. Thankfully, it was getting better so, no worries!

“No, why would I? This may be my first time doing something like this but, I’m not nervous.” You said back with a confident smile, you’ve done smaller things like photo shoots for struggling photographers trying to get their names out there and one would think that the fact that you’re going to be sharing the runway with a Kpop Idol would have your nerves through the roof. But, no. You were just a cool as a cucumber.

You are a Kpop fan, yes. But, you know that they are still people and respect them as such. They have enough craziness in their lives, they don’t need any sasaengs.

“Oh, Y/N, there you are. C’mon, we need to get you in your next outfit for the couples segment with Hyungwon in a few minutes.” One of the stage managers found you and was taking your hand to take you to the changing rooms. Oh.. Whoops, judging from the look on your friends face, you had forgotten to mention that little detail.

The manager pulled you along to one of the rooms where the people in their helped you get out of your current outfit to switch into your other one, that was going to match what Hyungwon was going to have on. They got you down to your dark red lacy bra and panties when said Idol came walking in, just to turn around with his back facing you.

Looking over at him, you could see that the tips of his ears were red. It was so adorable that you couldn’t help but, smile.

“Yes, Hyungwon-ah?” You asked with the soft smile still on your pouty lips, you weren’t shy at all about you being half naked in front of him and he could tell though, he was doing his best to remain a gentleman by keeping his back to you. However, it didn’t keep him from looking at you from over his shoulder.

There were a little mirror on the shelf by the door so, he still had a good view of you as you were being helped into the denim mini dress that he noticed hugged every curve of your Goddess like body.

“Uhh, I was just coming to make sure that they had gotten you for our turn coming up soon.” Hyungwon said, covering the nervousness in his voice as best as he could. Even off of the runway, you were just raditing with confidence and his heart was pounding a million beats per minute. He was just that shook by you. Not only was your confidence a turn on, seeing that denim dress on you was sending the blood rushing down like a waterfall.

Despite how painful it was, he tore his gaze away from the mirror and cleared his throat while trying to think of something to kill the quickly raising boner that he was getting.

“Five more minutes!” Was what both of you heard from the other side of the door before it opened to reveal one of the other managers.

“Hyungwon, we need to check your makeup!” Then in the blink of an eye, he was taken from the room like one of his hyungs had dragged him away.

Once he was out the room, you let out a breath that you didn’t realize that you were holding. Even though you were cool and collected, you had just spoke a little bit to one of your favorite idols. And you just had him blushing.. Holy shit!!

You were still in your head, going over everything as the assistants were getting you ready. Making sure the outfit and makeup were on point, as well as your hair.

~five minutes later~

Hyungwon was at one side of the opening while you were on the other, both of you waiting for the cue to start walking. As soon as the last couple went past you, it was your cue.

Walking next to a man that was six foot even while you just got a little over his shoulder in heels, was very much nice. You loved the height difference. At first, you two were just walking hand in hand but by the time you reached the end of the runaway, he let go of your hand and pulled you close to him.

You turned to where you were chest to chest, locking with his dark eyes while tilting your head to the side. He smirked down at you before leaning in as if he was going to kiss you and of course, there were some Monbabes at the event so, you could hear the excited screams mixing with some jeers.

With a playful and teasing smile, you turned away before taking hold of the lapel of his denim jacket and pull him along back lightly towards backstage. You could see the amusement in everyone’s eyes as they watched the two of you act like you were a couple, it made you feel good. This is why you enjoy modeling like this, it’s always fun.

Finally when you reached the back, you let go of his jacket only to have your wrist to taken a hold of. You turned towards him with a quirked brow, curious as to why he grabbed your wrist. Before you could even open your mouth to speak when he took his turn in pulling and was bringing you towards the dressing room from earlier.

Hyungwon let go of your hand to close the door and lock it then turning back towards you as he took off his jacket to reveal the loose white v neck tee underneath. He tossed the jacket on the chair nearby while moving closer to you, causing you to step back just until you fell back on the sofa.

Without even waiting a second, Hyungwon got on top of you on the sofa and began to passionately kiss you. A moan escaped you as you returned it in kind, bringing your hands up to his shoulders to dig your nails into his skin. Hearing groans and moans of pleasure leave him causes the growing tingling between your thighs to turn into an intense ache. Hyungwon made the sexiest noises as his lips left yours to trail little kisses and nips down from your jaw, neck and breasts.

His mouth was busy worshipping your gloriously endowed breasts while his hands were at the bottom of your dress, pushing it up to your waist before making quick work of your panties and pushing them to the side.

“Mhmm, I need to taste you.” Hyungwon groaned out between your boobs, kissing the spot before getting between your thighs.

You looked down at him, his dark lust filled eyes staring up at you as he let out his tongue and slowly licked up your dripping slit. Biting your lip could only muffle the mewls leaving your mouth slightly, when the tip of his tongue just lightly grazed against your clit, your back instantly arched and was starting your ascent to cloud nine.

Smirking to himself watching what he was doing to you, Hyungwon continued his delicious meal and was enjoying every second. Damn near was purring when he felt your fingers run through his pinky blonde hair, your nails racking through, the sensation didn’t help the tightness he felt in his pants any. As much as it pained him, he had to stop.

He moved away from your core to kissing the inside of your thighs, keeping his position on his knees before you. Your eyes were closed as you tried to catch your breath but opened them when you heard the sound of a belt being unbuckled as well as a zipper being unzipped. Looking over at him, your eyes locked with his dark ones as he bit his lips while stroking up and down his lengthy hard cock. A little pearl of precum shining on the tip before he brought it down to nudge at your soaked entrance.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Hyungwon asked, his voice sounding needy and a little husky as his cheeks started to flush. You nodded your head being unable to control your hips, one perfectly timed nudge of his hips and yours put his head right inside you. As soon as he felt your warm and wet cunt around his tip, there was no controlling him. He thrusted himself deep inside of you, growls and groans escaping him as moans and mewls left you. He stretched you out so good and feeling him nudge that spot of you with each thrust, you couldn’t even think straight.

“Hyungwonnnnn, f-faster please!” You whined, grinding your goddess like hips against him, meeting each thrust.

A groan from his bitten red pillow lips was your answer as he did as you asked before he wrapped his arms around your plump body, holding onto you tightly feeling your breasts against his chest, his lips and teeth decorating your shoulders and neck with marks. He was getting close to reaching his end just like you were, your walls gripping his cock tighter and tighter by the second, growing more and more wet. You felt like heaven to him.

“A-ahhhh, I’m cumming!” You moaned against his shoulder, kissing and biting him as well holding onto him while your hips and his started to lose rhythm. It was going to be an intense one for the both of you and when it hit you both, all you could see was white and feel the other twitch slightly in your arms.

Deep breathing was all that was heard for a couple minutes before Hyungwon finally got up and looked down at you with a shy smile. Funny how he gets shy now. And right as soon as he was about to open his mouth, there was knocking on the door.

“Hyungwon-ah, I was going to say good job out there but, I think after hearing what I just heard a few moments ago, I should say good job in there!” Wonho exclaimed through the door causing both you and Hyungwon to turn red from embarrassment. A chuckle from Wonho as well as a familiar giggle could be heard so, that told you that your friend was out there too. You won’t be living this down for a while.

So sorry for the wait! Really hope you enjoy it!

~ Fluffy Goddess

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kenzieam · 6 years ago

Text

Druid - Chapter Six

Rating: M (smut, language, violence, mature themes, potential major character death)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt @iammarylastar @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @notimetoblog @captain-ariel-barnes @jaamesbbarnes @lancefvcker @bitsandbobsandstuff @softlybarnes @lovelybbarnes @buckitybarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @moonbeambucky @badassbaker @citylights221 @empress-of-boujee @shynara51 @diinofayce @casestudy-mw @jewels2876 @damnaged-princess @everythingisoverrated @allmyfanficfaves @melgoodwin @clarabella960 @curvybihufflepuff @angryschnauzer @wowspideyholland @sergeantwhitewolf @smilexcaptainx @plaidcat4815 @shirukitsune @chook007

If you want off this list, send me a DM

Thank you, my lovelies, for your kind words and support XOXO

******************************************************************************

“Levi.” He stumbles over my name, sounding blown away, almost like he’d just been kicked in the guts.

“Hi, James.” I reply and he winces; from hearing my voice or my use of his given name?

Steve clears his throat and steps to the side, pulling Nat against him. He eyes his best friend carefully before turning his gaze back to me; something flashes in his eyes, something knowing and he smiles ever so slightly.

“Why don’t you two catch up?” He asks, glancing down at Nat, brow raised. “We’ll take you out another night as thanks, right, babe?” At her nod he resumes his piercing stare, directed partially at me, partially at the leather and denim-clad man shifting uneasily beside his monster bike.

Neither James nor I seem to possess the ability to answer, so Steve continues; I both curse and love his gentle insistence, giving us the push we seem to need.

“Yeah, go have dinner.” He turns to James. “Nat and I are buying Lev’s house, we were just taking her out to celebrate.”

James shifts his weight, leather boots squeaking quietly, a massive hand rasps against the stubble on his jaw. “Brother, I can’t intrude-”

Now Nat’s in on it too. “No, it’s fine.” She looks my way. “Tomorrow night, okay, Levi?” There’s a quiet plea in her eyes. She’s worried about James and I too, and in the same gentle-hearted way as her husband, she’s trying to help us.

I’d be a major fucking bitch if I said no to this, it’s just eating and talking, can I not get through that?

Well, my original plan was to see if the fates pushed James and I together, and the fates have definitely done that.

“Okay.” I murmur, forcing a smile, even though inside I’m shaking with nerves. What if I’ve come to this realization, that I love James and want to start a family with him, and he uses this dinner as his opportunity to tell me to fuck off? I ran away like a brat a year ago and refused to even speak to him, I’d definitely deserve it.

Relief and something else far more vulnerable flash across his handsome face and, for the briefest second, I see the depths of the despair and anguish he’s been carrying and my heart clenches in a mix of shame and tenderness. I never want to see that again in his hypnotic eyes, never want to feel the abject misery he wears like a coat ever again.

Only good times, only happiness.

“Great!” Steve chirps. In a few short strides he’s at James’ side, slapping him hard on the back then turning back to me.

I take a hesitant step forward, swallow past my dry throat. “Any place in particular?” I ask James.

Steve, his hand clasping James’ shoulder, glances at his friend, waiting for his answer.

“How about the Station?”

I nod, unable to stop a smile. “Yeah, that would be nice. Can I meet you there? I drove down.” I point vaguely towards my Subaru. We might be meeting for dinner and to talk, but I know I won’t be able to survive straddling this man’s bike and clinging to his wide, hot body.

He nods, and if he’s disappointed I’m not going to spider-monkey him, it doesn’t show. He jolts again as Steve slaps his shoulder a second time.

“Have a good time. Levi, we’ll call you tomorrow. Trent said the papers should be ready by noon.”

“Yeah.” I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Thank you, you guys.” I embrace Nat and get a bone-crushing bear hug from Steve, not missing his breath of a whisper in my ear.

‘Just talk to him Levi, please don’t break his heart.’

Shit, if the Captain only knew my thoughts.

They leave, pulling away in Steve’s massive jacked-up pickup; it’s similar to Thor’s monster truck, but is painted a deep maroon red, almost black cherry.

James clears his throat, reminding me why I’m still standing here. “You don’t have to-” he begins, sounding like a defeated little boy.

Hot shame rises in my throat. Christ, I did a number on him, I need to make this right, I need to let James know how I really feel about him.

“No, I want to.” I turn back to him, reach over tentatively to take his hand. He tenses, eyes darting to me and back down to our hands, before relaxing minutely. His fingers jolt in mine, as if hit by a current.

I felt it too.

“I’ll meet you there?” I glance down. “I’m not really dressed to ride.” It’s true, I’m wearing a boho printed maxi skirt and knotted black tank, a few inches of midriff showing, no matter how much I pull and tug at the shirt.

James swallows visibly. “Sure.” His voice has a noticeably rasp to it.

“Let’s go...?” I half ask, half declare. He’s standing here like installation art and I’d rather be sitting somewhere a bit more private than at public sidewalk when I tell him what is half-bursting from my chest.

He shakes himself loose visibly, and a nervous, embarrassed grin pulls at his adorable lips. “Sure.” He repeats.

He waits at the curb, sitting on his idling bike until I pull out, then falls in place behind me. He’s wearing a full-face black helmet, and it’s slightly disconcerting not being able to see his eyes, so I clear my throat and focus on the road ahead.

The Station is just that. Functioning as a railway station until the mid-fifties, it was converted into a restaurant/lounge not too long after. It’s the most popular restaurant in town, managing to project a friendly, hip vibe even though it hasn’t been renovated in my lifetime. It’s a safe option; not too formal, not too relaxed, especially if we sit on the lounge side.

I park at that end of the building and James pulls his bike beside me. I step out then turn and reach back inside to grab the light cardigan on the passenger seat. Too late, I realize this probably put my ass on display for James to look at and jerk back upright, whirling to catch James quickly looking away. I fumble nervously with it, cursing myself for the slip-up. He’s suddenly beside me, breath warm on my bare shoulder and I fight a shudder of rising desire. I glance silently towards him, see his cheeks are pink, eyes studiously lowered to where his hands help my arms through the sweater.

His touch is scorching and his hands rest for the briefest moment on top of my shoulders after he pulls the cardigan completely up. I’m just about to lean back against him when he lets go and steps past. Stepping up onto the sidewalk, he pauses then turns back to me, holding out his hand with a hopeful look.

His smile when I reach out and accept his proffered hand is dazzling and it makes my heart skip a few beats. He pulls me closer than he probably would have if we were just friends, or if I hadn’t accepted his hand so easily just now. He holds the door open and waits until I walk through.

Although still tentative, he seems to be gaining confidence at my receptivity, leading me to a booth in the corner.

A waitress appears out of nowhere. “Drinks?”

James glances at me. I quickly debate then go for it. “Dirty Corona, please.”

He grins. “Two please.” After she leaves, he turns back to me. “Haven’t had one of those in a while.”

“Well, it is the Station’s specialty.” I tease. If it is, it’s only because our senior class first decided to drain the neck of a fresh Corona and refill it with spiced rum before adding the lime and then beat that horse to death, ordering it practically non-stop until the restaurant gave in and made it a regular menu item.

She’s back, dropping two sweating bottles and the shots of rum if front of us then pulling out her notepad. “Have you decided what to eat?”

I glance at James. “Do they still have fish tacos?”

He nods.

“I’ll have those and a side of calamari, please.”

James settles on a bacon cheeseburger with sweet potato fries and I lean forward covertly, motioning him closer. As he leans forward, I grin, feeling a little flirty.

“Are you sharing those fries?” I tease.

His brows lift, obviously not expecting me to be playful. He recovers quickly. “Only if you share the calamari.”

“Deal.” I reply, reaching for my beer. I drain the neck, then pour in the rum. James watches me intently as I squeeze some lime juice into the beer before stuffing the wedge down into the neck. His eyes flick to my throat as I swallow and I feel a bolt of heat.

“So... what have you been up to?” James asks quietly, doing the same to his own drink. There’s a hesitancy in his voice that I ache to relieve. The ease in which we’ve been interacting for the last few minutes has only emboldened me, confirmed my burgeoning hope that we can work, that there was something between us, and still is.

“Honestly? A lot of thinking, a shit-load of tattooing, trying to distract myself.”

Surprised longing darkens James’ gaze and he blinks a few times, concentrating hard on his thumbnail worrying at his beer’s label. He swallows hard but doesn’t speak.

“I’m sorry, James. I was wrong to run away like I did.” It’s easier to say the words than I thought it would be.

He physically jolts, obviously not daring to hope for such a confession. His eyes dart back up to mine before dropping back to the bottle. His exhale is unsteady. “I wish you’d stayed. We should have talked.”

“I know. I was scared.”

“Of me?” There’s a quiet despair in his voice.

“No.” I chew my bottom lip until it stings sharply. “Of what I felt, being with you.”

His eyes lock with mine and he blinks rapidly; burgeoning hope warring with painful wariness.

I let out a long breath, run my hands through my hair as I fight for the right words. “I had a crush on you in high school, maybe even more than a crush, but I told myself these last ten years it was nothing, that you never had the same feelings. And then, when I came back, and you started glaring at me like I stomped on your puppy, I figured it was because you hated me, or thought I was distracting Thor or something. I never thought it could be because you wanted me.” I pause, swallowing hard before I continue. “When you kissed me in the clubhouse kitchen, it woke something up in me; something I had no idea even existed. After that, Thor’s attention wasn’t what I wanted anymore, but it all happened so fast... I panicked.”

James swallows hard, bottom lip trembling slightly before he replies. “Loved you.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t just because I ‘wanted’ you, I loved you.”

Jesus. But he said ‘loved’, past tense. “Not anymore, though?”

He seems surprised, glancing back up at me with a frown of confusion.

“You said ‘loved me’, not anymore?”

A hint of his old cocky grin, a flash of relief in his eyes. “No.” He takes a deep breath and continues, his voice warm and rough. “Not loved. I love you. I always have.”

Sudden, hot tears spring to my eyes and I can’t stop a shuddering gasp. He can’t, after all the shit I’ve put him through, still feel that way.

He leans forward to speak, only to sit back sharply in surprise when the waitress appears, all but throwing our plates on the table with her near-demented efficiency.

“Enjoy!” She chirps and I wonder if she’s so focused on her job she honestly didn’t realize the emotional miasma she just walked into. She is genuinely oblivious, already turning on her heel to hit another table.

I sniff, managing to rein in my tears and reach for my fork, hesitantly spearing a piece of calamari. I need some time to process James’ words and he seems to realize this. He’s quiet as he assembles his burger, flicking careful glances at me. He looks relieved I haven’t just leapt to my feet and ran out.

“I-” I bite my bottom lip again. “I didn’t know, I didn’t-” I look up, trying to convey through my eyes what I’m having such a shit time forming into words. “You always looked so pissed off.”

“I know.” He replies quietly, food forgotten as he watches me. “I wasn’t exactly obvious. And I was mad, but because you were with Thor and not me, that I’d blown my chance again.”

I think back to his flirty, friendly demeanor as I teased him about piercings, before Thor appeared and wrapped me up in his whirlwind; he had been trying, had been interested; I just hadn’t recognized it. Shit.

He reads my thoughts. “It’s not your fault. I could have said something instead of just sulking, but Thor’s... Thor; he’s like a god or something, women just fall all over him.”

He honestly thinks he doesn’t compare to Thor? That he too isn’t some earthbound god?

“I did,” I admit. “He is charming, but there was always you in the background. I didn’t understand why you were always staring at me, but I never stopped to ask myself how I knew that, if I wasn’t watching for you too?”

A flicker of surprise in his blue eyes, and he’s silent for a heartbeat, contemplating my words. I myself hadn’t even wondered this until recently, how I always seemed to know where James was, what he was doing, even though I was usually firmly planted in Thor’s lap.

We’re quiet for a while, but it’s comfortable; I pretend to be sneaky, snatching a few of James’ fries, and he grins widely, reaching a massive paw over to grasp a goodly portion of my calamari, laughing out loud when I squeak and try to wrestle them back. He relents, but his hand stays in mine and, for a beat, that low-level static charge between us seems to quiet, fall into a contented hum. He’s the first to pull his hand free and return to his food, but his eyes don’t leave mine.

One beer turns into two and, before I know it, the thought that’s been running rampant through my head dodges my filters and tumbles out of my mouth. “I don’t want this to end.” I say as we share the Station’s famous dessert, ice cream and a sinful brownie so decadent and soft, it’s still half batter.

His eyebrows quirk. “What to end?” His voice is low but wary.

Oh well, I’m committed now. “Tonight, we’re done eating, but I don’t want it to end.” Too late, I realize I’ve been holding my spoon too long in my mouth, my tongue curling in the bowl, trying to lick the last of the brownie, giving James’ an unintentional show.

A warm grin lights up his face. “It doesn’t have to; did you want to come over? We could watch a movie.”

I mask my abject delight with a teasing lilt. “Big scary bikers have movie nights? They aren’t out rabble-rousing and partying all night?”

“Not this one; some of my younger brothers, yes; but not me, not anymore.” He grins again. “And what the hell is rabble-rousing? Some Texas thing?” He distracts me for a moment, licking his own spoon with swoon-worthy attention; damn, these brownies are epic.

I snort a giggle, rolling my eyes. “That would be great, James. I just need to book a hotel room and drop off my stuff-”

“You can stay with me.” At my surprised look, he continues. “Not like that, not if you don’t want to. I have a guest room, save you some cash.”

I ponder the wisdom of that. The cash part doesn’t bother me, but are we ready? Not if you don’t want to, echoes in my head. James isn’t pushing me, he isn’t expecting me to share his bed; he’s willing to go slow. I have to admit the thought of cuddling with him on the couch is definitely enticing.

“Okay, but-”

He holds up his hand, correctly interpreting my next words. “No pressure, just friends.”

“Friends.” I agree.

His house is surprisingly homey and comfortable. I expected a full-on bachelor pad, but he’s taken pains to surpass that. Sure, his bookcase is still 2 x 6’s and cinder blocks, and one corner of the living room seems dedicated to an indoor workshop, but if you didn’t know it was an MC President living here, you wouldn’t know by looking around.

A cat twines sinuously around my legs, purring like a chainsaw. I say cat in the loosest terms, it’s roughly the size of a pitbull, it’s tail crooked and one ear chewed. James leans down to stroke it’s head and the chainsaw roar increases.

“Is that a cat or a cougar?” I tease.

James glances back up at me, his grin lighting up the room. “Lilly found him as a kitten but their other cat kept beating him up, so she begged me to take him.”

Lilly? Oh yeah, Steve and Nat’s oldest. “Aww, Uncle Bucky.”

He smirks but I think he’s secretly pleased.

“What’s his name?” I’m expecting something like Harley, or Killer or something else appropriately biker for a cat that reminds me of a short-haired Crookshanks, so I only stare dumbly for a second when James responds.

“Pickles.”

“Pickles?”

He rolls his eyes. “She was four, you’re lucky it’s an actual word; her favorite doll was named Shnork for years.”

I find it incredibly heart-warming, not to mention ovary-exploding that he’s so attentive to his nieces, so willing to do anything for them, even take in their cat and keep its ridiculous name to keep them happy.

Apparently satisfied, Pickles sashays back out, taking his roaring purr with him.

Remembering why I’m here, James snatches the remote off his coffee table and holds it out to me, the TV chiming musically behind us as it turns on.

“I’ve got Netflix, you want to find a movie? I’ll be right back.” He disappears and I busy myself scrolling the menus. I have one queued up by the time he gets back. He’s lost his cut and boots and has pulled on a fresh shirt.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I just had to make sure Pickles hasn’t torn apart your bed, little shit’s got some sort of sixth sense for making trouble.”

I snort, amused. “Can I use your bathroom?”

A few minutes later, we’re finally sitting on the couch. My bags are safely deposited in the guest room, Pickles has been pushed outside and James has brought out snacks. We’re sitting close, but not touching.

And, it turns out, not watching the movie.

“Tell me about yourself, Levi.” James asks suddenly, and I realize that, although the movie is barely past the opening credits, he’s been watching me instead of it the entire time.

“Not much to tell,” I evade.

“I doubt that, you ended up in the polar opposite career from your chosen field, you must at least have some interesting tattooing stories to tell.”

I do, it turns out; and James is a rapt audience. His throaty chuckles and outright laughing sends shivers up and down my spine. The movie is forgotten, we’re facing each other on the couch, me cross-legged; James facing forwards, his ankle resting on his knee, upper body turned to face me because honestly, he’s too big and muscular to fit sideways on his own couch.

The stories flow easily, and I’m surprised how comfortable I am talking with James, he’s a good listener and I sense this is more than just him on good behavior, he’s one of those genuine people who actually cares to listen to others, it’s a rare trait nowadays.

Before I know it, the movie is over. “Okay, your turn.”

His chuckles fade and he wipes his mouth. “Mine?”

“Yeah. You must have some interesting stories.”

His gaze becomes guarded. “There’s things I can’t tell you. About the club, and what we do.”

This thought has already occurred to me, many times over the past year. Even when I was with Thor I understood this; it’s called ‘club business’ and it functions on a strict need-to-know basis, and the women around the club never, never, need to know. It used to bother me but, along with my newfound feelings for James is a grudging acceptance of this. I’ve gotten to know the people in this club and have chosen to look past it.

“No, I know. I mean stuff you can. Funny stories; you and Steve growing up.”

He relaxes slightly at not having to explain ‘club business’ further and tips his head back, thinking.

I sit back and listen, letting his words and deep voice flow over me. I’m hard-pressed to think of any other time in my life when I’ve felt this relaxed and content. There’s a strong feeling of safety and security surrounding James and my body seems to instinctively seek this from him, subconsciously yearn for it. I scoot towards him, my heart melting at the wide, surprised smile that greets me in return. James tentatively lifts his arm from the back of the couch, an invitation to move even closer and I don’t stop to think, I just move.

His chest is wide and warm and I can’t help but snuggle closer. He shudders against me, his heavy arm carefully settling on my shoulders. His scent is intoxicating; musk and motor oil and leather, a hint of whiskey and danger and something inside me, something that’s been restless and edgy my whole life, slows and takes a deep breath, settles and curls up to sleep. I feel him drop his head, press his nose into my hair and inhale deep and long, exhale with a barely audible groan.

We’re getting awfully serious awfully fast and, while my body is clamoring for more, I force myself to speak, to redirect and slow us down. I tense when the first thing out of my mouth reaches my ears.

“What happened to your arm?”

Open mouth, insert foot.

If he’s offended, he’s good at hiding it. Instead, he takes a deep, reflective breath, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “An accident, five years ago.”

I wait for him to elaborate and his hand starts to trace gentle random patterns on my shoulder. It’s all I can do to not start purring like a cat.

“Her name was Daria. The only other girl I’ve ever wanted to put my patch on, besides you.” He continues. “I was trying to get past my feelings for you, start fresh. I, uh... the bike hit a patch of gravel and laid out. It all seemed to happen in slow motion... I tried to control it, keep us, or at least Daria away from this steel post we were flying towards.” He pauses for so long I wonder if he’s going to continue, then starts again, his voice no longer completely steady. “I missed. When I woke up, I was in the hospital and two weeks had passed. I’d hit the post hard enough to literally rip my arm off. Daria was killed instantly. I missed her funeral, closed casket.”

“Oh my god,” I murmur, tears trickling down my cheeks. I never would have asked if I’d had any idea-

“I would have given up, laid down and died if not for the club. They kept me going, kicked my ass when I whined too much. Steve got me into a therapist when shit got bad. I was lucky, and my shrink knew a guy who knew a guy working in experimental prosthetics. In exchange for letting them publish in some medical journal I received their most advanced prototype.”

“Does it hurt?”

“It aches sometimes,” he replies. “The scars itch.” There’s a hesitation in his voice, like others in the past have been repulsed by this. I appreciate his willingness to bare his soul like this.

“I think it’s beautiful.” I murmur, and mean it. I reach across his lap to pull his metal hand closer. He removed his glove earlier and, while he tenses when I first touch him, he lets me study it, trail my fingertips along the plates and up to his wrist. I play with his fingers, measure the span of his palm, marvel at the full inch his fingers reach past mine, at the latent strength in his grip.

I feel his lips press to my hair, then his cheek rest on the top of my head. He doesn’t speak again, and neither do I.

The most unbelievable serenity is flooding my body, spreading through my limbs.

This is what it feels like to finally come home.

I let the steady beat of James’ heart lull me to sleep.

#bucky barnes #au bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky and lev #bucky barnes angst

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nyewclear · 6 years ago

Text

doin’ some dialogue practices for creative writing class! i had to write dialogue based off of images n stuff :^)

. one . > picture > characters: max | teeny

The clouds swirled overhead, forming obscure and vague shapes that somehow Teeny managed to pick things out of.

“Look!” she crowed, pointing her finger at a nondescript blob of clouds that looked more like a lump to Max than anything. “Issa turtle.” Max wrinkled his nose as he squinted up at the clouds.

“It does not look like a turtle,” he said flatly, putting a hand up to his face to shield his eyes from the sun.

Teeny snorted, turning on her side to flick Max on the cheek. The freckles dotted across her nose had gotten darker from all the time she’d spent in the sun lately. “You’re jus’ uncreative! What does it look like to you?”

The corners of Max’s mouth turned down. It literally looked like nothing. It was a smear of white across the sky. “Um…” he started, feeling Teeny’s big eyes stare at him from the side. “I don’t know? Maybe a…” He peered at the sky a little more, trying to see something. The clouds writhed in the sky above them. “A g… ghost?”

Teeny snorted again, louder this time, and it dissolved into laughter as she flopped back onto her back. Max made a face, trying to keep from laughing himself. “You suck at this, Maxie,” she teased lightly before staring off into the sky for another long moment.

It was quiet when Max sat up after a minute or so. He could feel the grass stains seeping into the backs of his pant legs. There was a rumble in the distance.

“It’s planting season, isn’t it?” he asked idly, plucking grass from the ground and twisting it between his fingers. He looked back to see Teeny fold her arms behind her head. Her eyes were closed, inky black lashes fanned across her cheeks.

“Sure is, cuz,” she replied. “Daddy’s probably runnin’ the tractor over the hill.”

“Soybeans this year?” Teeny opened one eye to gaze at him.

“Nope! Corn this time. We did soybeans last year.” There was a silence. “Remember when you ran through that soybean field by the pig pen and stepped on the hornet’s nest?”

Max grimaced. “You laughed at me for, like, two hours. That hurt so bad. I couldn’t walk for a week.” Teeny grinned at him full force and it was almost blinding.

“You city slickers know nothin’ ‘bout the stuff that creeps around in those fields. You’re lucky you didn’t get bit by a cobra or somethin’.” Max gaped at her.

“There aren’t any cobras in the middle of Ohio, TT.”

There was a mischievous glint in Teeny’s eyes. “You don’t know that.”

. two . > picture > characters: boomer | oliver

The office desk shook violently when a pair of hands slammed down onto it, making Boomer’s pen skid to the side of the form he was filling out. Ophelia was going to kill him. She was always so adamant about having all the museum’s human resources paperwork filled out so very neatly. His brow crumpled with annoyance, looking up to probably frown deeply at whoever had made him do this, only to see a flushed faced Oliver looking down at him.

“Is it true?” was all he said, his voice stretched thin and layered with something that sounded like anger. Disappointment? Betrayal? Boomer couldn’t tell. He set down his pen, carefully, quietly.

“Is… is what true?” Oliver leaned back, green eyes ablaze. They looked watery.

“About you,” he bit out, forcing the words out of his mouth like they were foul.

Boomer cast him a bemused look. “About me?” The fact that Boomer had simply repeated Oliver seemed to bother him more. He crossed his arms stiffly across his chest.

“Yes. About you. And Valentina.”

Oh.

Boomer didn’t know how to answer this, his mouth working uselessly. He’d like to say that he’d forgotten about Oliver and Valentina and their very, very complicated history, and he’d like to say that he had thought about that before he’d kissed Valentina over the summer (he’d kissed her many, many times. But to be fair, she always kissed him first), and he’d like to say that he’d felt bad-- guilty even-- throughout all of this, but he didn’t. He really didn’t.

“I thought you and Ross were together,” he said lamely, biting his lip.

“We are,” Oliver snapped, exasperated. “But you? And Lenn-- Valentina? Are you kidding me? Are you f… are you serious?”

“You… you guys broke up in freshman year.” Oliver smacked the table again. The tin of pens on the corner of the table rattled.

“That doesn’t matter!” he retorted, even though it mattered a lot. He’d started dating Ross three months after Valentina broke up with him. It shouldn’t matter anymore. “You know how much she meant to me. You were there when things ended.”

“Oliver, just because I’m your roommate doesn’t mean that I--”

“You were,” Oliver interrupted suddenly, voice flat and brimming with something terrifying. Boomer had the urge to stand up. It was unnerving to be looked down on by Oliver.

“... What?” It came out as almost a whisper.

“You heard me.”

A hot flush came rising up Boomer’s neck and flooded into his cheeks. He sputtered, “B… but-- You already submitted your roommate request. We’ve been roommates for two years, you can’t just--”

��I already did.” Oliver’s voice wavered, and Boomer realized that his friend’s eyes had brimmed with tears. They threatened to spill as Oliver reached into his back pocket and thwacked a folded piece of paper down onto the table. “I apparently can’t trust you to not stab me in the back, so I told housing I’m living off campus.”

“Oliver--” Boomer’s eyes flicked to the paper. It was folded so sloppily that he could see the bold heading of the page peeking through one of the flaps. Notice of resignation, it read. All the breath was abruptly sucked from Boomer’s lungs. Oliver turned on his heel, began to walk towards the door.

“Don’t you ever talk to me again, Boomer,” Oliver went on over his shoulder, his voice shaking so badly that it would be impossible to believe that he wasn’t crying. Boomer watched Oliver’s back, watched him reach up and viciously wipe tears from his cheeks. “I hope you and Lenny last longer than she did with me.”

He was out the door in a second, his footsteps only a faint echo down the hall. Boomer wanted to call out to him, wanted to call him back, but he couldn’t find the words.

. three . > picture > characters: rosiane | james There was a loud crash from the living room, one that sounded like shattered glass and toppled chairs. The sound reverberated throughout the house, traveling up the stairs to Rosiane’s bedroom. Her pencil halted in the middle of her sentence as she looked up from her homework. A momentary silence passed and it made Rosiane uneasy, so she pushed back from her desk and clicked off her lamp.

“James?” she called, shoving her feet into her slippers as she left her room and began to pad down the stairs. “Are you okay?” There was no response. She opened her mouth to say her brother’s name again, turning the corner that led from the hallway to the mouth of the living room to see the disaster in there.

“James??” Rosiane shrilled, rushing into the living room and to her brother. He was sitting in what had been the rounded coffee table, the glass surface all fragmented into a thousand pieces and the wooden base splintered under his weight. He was sitting there with a stunned sort of stupefied look on his face, bloodied scratches from the glass on his bare arms. He turned to look at her, big green eyes overflowing with tears.

“Rosie… Rosie, I broke the table,” he sniffled, the words coming out slow. Rosiane let out a sob mixed with a laugh, trying to navigate her way to him without getting glass stuck in her slippers.

“Oh, James, what on earth did you do?” There was another moment of James simply just sitting there looking lost, tears still running down his ruddy cheeks.

“I was trying to use my quirk,” he answered, looking down at his hands, his palms up and open on his thighs. A crushing sympathy tore through Rosiane’s chest, and she carefully lowered herself down next to James, glass crunching under her feet.

“Jameski…”James curled his fingers tightly into his palms, squeezing his eyes shut as he did so. More tears spilled down his face. “I wanna be… I wanna be like you, Rosie,” he mumbled, his chin quivering. His dark hair fell over his eyes and Rosiane reached out to tuck some behind his ear. “I tried to do it like you told me, to concentrate on the object, to… to reach out to it, and-- and it would...” He sighed heavily, shakily, shoulders hunching up to his ears.

“What were you trying to move?” Rosiane asked softly, ungracefully plonking her butt to the floor to release the strain on her legs. Glass painfully poked into her pajama pants and she met this fact with a wince. James curled into her like he was trying to hide.

“The picture frame by the TV.” Rosiane looked over at the television across from them, knowing exactly the picture James was talking about. It was a photo that her dad had taken the day they’d moved to their new house in Musutafu after leaving Kensington. James was just a baby, held in her mother’s arms, and Rosiane had been a skinny girl of nine. Her two front teeth had been missing.

The picture hadn’t moved from the spot that it had always been, perched on the TV stand like it had been for the past seven years. Rosiane assumed that James had climbed onto the coffee table for a better angle and it had given out on him.

“Jameski, you know these things take time,” she murmured, rubbing her hand up and down her brother’s back gingerly. She thought that she could feel glass in the back of his shirt. Her brother was beginning to cry into her shirt, big, heaving sobs that soaked the fabric through in moments.

“R-Rosie, I c-can’t do it,” he said through his tears, hands gripping her shirt in fistfuls. “I can’t, it’s s-so hard.”

“Shh… don’t rush it. It’s okay, Jameski, it’s gonna be fine.” A minute stretched into what felt like an eternity, the only noises being the clock ticking away on the wall and James’ blubbering into her shirt. It took a long while for James to calm down and stop crying, a while until James peeled his face away from Rosiane’s shirt and instead pressed his wet cheek to her chest like he was trying to hear her heartbeat.

“My q-quirk’s weak, isn’t it,” he hiccupped quietly. Rosiane gasped without meaning to, her eyebrows knitting together.“Oh, my God, no, it’s not! I never want to hear you say that again.” She paused before continuing, “My quirk was slow in manifesting too, did you know that?” James peered up at her with his puffy eyes, her shirt crumpling under his cheek. “Yup. I was so frustrated with it that I gave up on trying to summon golems for almost an entire year. It was like my quirk hadn’t even manifested at all.

“But I had to be patient. Not only with my quirk, but with myself. It’s exhausting to be angry at yourself about your quirk and it not being insanely strong right away. I had to learn to take my time, to pace myself, and not push myself too much before I started to see any real progress at all.” She smiled a little down at James, a long, straight lock of hair falling down her shoulder. “And you know what? I remember my first tiny little golem-- one made of air. I’d summoned it while sitting at the kitchen table back in Kensington and it was incredible. Definitely worth waiting for. Definitely worth trying for.” She gave James a little shake, her arm tucked firmly around his back. “So don’t you ever say your quirk is weak. I know you’re gonna be so frickin’ strong someday, Jameski. You’re gonna be stronger than me. It’s gonna be awesome.”

“You think so?” James squeaked. Rosiane smiled big this time, using her thumb to brush the nearly-dried tears from James’ cheeks.

“I know so.”

#i didnt mean for these to get so long but ok #i swear to god if my creat writ teacher doesnt like these im gonna #(shakes fist)#i actually drew james last night but lord knows when im posting that #i need to make him a toyhouse page smh!!!!#i hate writing with proper capitalization!!!!!!!!!#i usually write in all lowercase and this fucks with me #louro's writing #louro's ocs #maxwell palms #teeny lukas #oliver fitzgerald #boomer shulser #rosiane hajime #james hajime #cow babes #buggy kids/entomology #bnha babeys

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jiminsgalaxxi · 6 years ago

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EUPHORIA

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

☆ Recording Studio

☆ One shot || smut

---

Thank God for halter tops and maxi skirts! The summer sun felt like spotlight on your skin ready to burn a hole through you. You pushed through the door to Jungkook's studio and welcomed the cool blast of aircon on your skin. You happily sighed with the relief. "Ah, bliss."

In the studio, Jungkook and his producers were busy discussing about the new song they were planning to release. A familiar face pops up out of the huddle, "Hi, Y/N!" Adora cheerfully waves at you. "Heya!", you waved back. A couple more heads turned but only one face mattered to you most.

Flashing you a boyish smile with a twinkle in his eye, "One more run with our new mix and we should be done." He reassures you. "All good, babe. Take your time.", you smiled back.

After a few more minutes of bouncing back ideas, Jungkook gets into the glass booth and starts recording. His soft voice blending so well with the melody, your chest swells up with pride for having this wonderful human yours.

There was always something with the way he sang that was so emotive that you just can't help but believe everything he sang to you. Looking at him through the glass window, his sang to the Sony C800GPAC microphone evocatively. A misty voice in a foggy morning dawn, cool and soothing.

He poured out everything that he has for any and all challenges, a trait you have always loved in him, so passionate in everything that he did; his dance, his singing, his music, his solo performances on stage and most especially in bed.

Jungkook in bed was fire understated.

Since the rest of the producers were busy analyzing the musical score, you took on the freedom to stare at him avidly. Noting how his eyes soften to match the mood; his lips softly rolling off the lyrics. You remembered how his lips felt possesively over yours just last night. Your eyes continued to travel down his neck, where you always like to kiss that pulsating vein. The groove of his chest discernable under his shirt where you love to feel his heart beat double time when you get close. Hands gently holding his studio headphones, big veins running the length of his arm disappearing under his shirt, the same hands that know exactly where to touch and make you quiver in ecstasy.

Just thinking about that was already making you hot, yet the a/c was blasting at max. How much longer until you can get him alone for yourself? As if on cue, his eyes found yours. As he sang out the last few notes of the melody, the soft look in his eyes has gone and his lips have curved into a slow smile.

It made you a little breathless. You know all to well what that look was.

Girls all around the world are crazy already about him and his band. Who wouldn't? They were handsome, talented, and dork level relatable.

Jungkook seemed to be cherished by the majority of the population of fans and even by his hyungs. He was funny, generous, athletic, and artistic in every way but most importantly, he belonged to you. Now, they are just doing some final touches to the mix just in time for their upcoming album release.

"That was awesome, Jungkook!" The foreign producer speaks through the mic packing the recording up. A grammy-winning producer has happily collaborated with BTS after weeks of exchanging emails and samples.

Jungkook gives two thumbs up paired with a big smile then started to tidy up inside the recording booth. "I'll run this through with Bang Si Hyuk in the morning and see if it works out with the final production.", the producer continues. "We've made about 15 samples and I'm pretty sure one of them will suit the story line" Namjoon interjects as if reassuring Jungkook. He knows how hard Jungkook has worked on this song, asking the younger man to record and re-record to change the mood of the song.

That was one of the things you loved about their brotherhood; they always pushed each other to their limits and bring out the best in them. They looked out for and genuinely cared for their group's well-being. Their admiration for each other was true and undeniable. All the boys were especially doting to Jungkook for being the maknae.

Jungkook was the amalgamation of all his hyungs.

You noticed the newly built three-meter fish tank on the far side of the room, a dimmed back light making the water glow as you looked around. You and Jungkook were just talking about adding either small tropical fishes or an arowana yesterday when you saw something golden reflecting in the low light elegantly glided by. So, he did get a gold arowana!

“How ya been, Y/N? You are looking especially captivating today.” you felt a weight shift on the leather couch you were sitting on as another figure sat beside you. “Hello, Yi Jeong.", giving him a tentative reply. "It's JPearl now," giving you a look through the side of his eyes. He had always been very friendly towards you albeit bordering on flirty sometimes but he was never physically forward. Yi Jeong aka JPearl appears to always find a reason to approach you. Looking him over, he was actually handsome. Tall and lean, straight black hair framing a small face with uncanningly black eyes, high nose bridge and thick pink lips.

Just imagine if Jimin and Seokjin had an offspring, it would be JPearl.

"I don't think I will ever get used to calling you JPearl. It sounds a little..." your eyes trailed the sound equipment on the table searching for the right word for it, "...offbeat", looking him in the eye. Arms folded, he leaned his head to you "Actually, you are the only one who calls me by my real name. I don't really mind what name you call me, sweet cakes, as long as you call me. Hearing you say my name is a beautiful song already." he finished with a wink. "M'kay" you laughed fakely.

What a flirt.

"Hey, what's this?" You find JPearl picking something up from your bare shoulder with his fingertips. It was when he gave it a little tug that you felt it. What seemed to be an invisible thread at first was actually a very long thin silver hair pinned under the skinny strap of your halter top. “Don’t!” your hand clamping down on his, his face puzzled. “It’s my lucky charm.”, you continued with a dry smile. “Oh. Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” he apologized. “Is that an apology?” you teased.

He started to open his mouth to say something when a voice interrupted. “The only person he will apologize to is me.” Jungkook standing in front of you, his voice dropping low, his eyes almost challenging JPearl. “Hey, Jungkook. No harm intended.” JPearl raising both hands up. “Yeah, keep your hands to yourself and off my girl.” Jungkook almost confrontational.

The other people in the room all of a sudden turned their heads around and fell silent upon hearing the low tones of threat in Jungkook’s voice. “Yah, Jungkook, all good there?” Namjoon asks. JPearl has stood up by this time but still Jungkook, who is even younger, towers over him. “I said, no harm done, Jungkook.” JPearl clarifies. Jungkook kept his eyes on him, near narrow slits. You decided to intervene. “Okay, puppies, drop it. As JPearl said, no harm done.” and in a louder voice, “Why don’t we go to the other room. I brought you something nice to snack on. You guys have been working hard today.” Glancing at Namjoon, “All good here”, putting a thumb up and a beaming smile.

Upon hearing there was food waiting, everybody started for the door. “Yeah, food! Thanks Y/N! You’re always the best!” Adora gives you a tight hug before half-running out of the room. She’s always been so sweet to you, although you have tried many times to make her tell you her real name. None of the boys know it, too. “Can you remember it now?” she asked peeping her head by the door frame. You give her a big smile while shaking your head. She did tell you that one night when you both were drunk but the memory escapes you. Sneaky.

You felt a hand brush up on your arm, Jungkook softly pulling you to him. “Hey, what was that all about?”, you asked. “I just don’t like that punk getting close to you.” eyes down, brows furrowed with his reply. “I know but see, I’m okay. He can be really friendly sometimes but you know I can handle him.” leaning your head to the side to look at his downcast face, still obviously upset, you laid a hand on his chest. He was cutely chewing his lower lip and that just made you want to kiss him so bad. “Friendly, my ass.” he huffed, “I know all too well what he is doing.”, “Is my Kookie jealous?” feeling a little giddy asking him that when you know all too well he was.

“No, I’m just letting everyone know what is mine.” and with that his head swooped down to claim your lips. It was soft and almost peckish. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you felt him press you closer, your breast against him. He was always so possessive and you like that, especially when he gets like this. The course of his kiss changed to something more insistent, you can’t help but open up your lips to let his tongue in. His hands running up and down your back have lingered down to cup your derriere. “Why you gotta be so hot all the time? You drive me crazy.” His voice rough with need, “Fuck, you’re not even wearing a bra. What else is missing in your outfit today?”, he holds you closer to his hips, his growing desire obvious between his legs. He continued kissing you down your ivory neck while your breath in his ear made him all the more aroused. But you pushed him away all of a sudden, “Jungkook, wait! Here?” you scanned around, you can hear warning bells ringing in the corner of your mind. You and him in his recording studio with possible CCTVs monitoring what you were doing. “Don’t worry, no cameras in here. I made sure just in case of...” he looks down at your flushed face “...sexy times” As if reading your mind, his teeth flashed in his naughty smile. “Are you sure? But what about the others waiting for us? And your door, it’s fucking translucent.” you were skeptical. You looked to the door where you can see shadows of passersby. “They can wait. It’s frosted and also auto-lock. No one else knows the passcode. Not even Jimin. Trust me.” he assured. “Now where were we, baby girl?” the want in his voice unmistakable.

“If that’s the case”, you languidly snake your hands over his nape, “Right here.” you whispered, pulling him down for another kiss. You feel him harden between the crevice of your hips. The promiscuity in his studio with the possibility of being caught stirred a different kind of excitement in you.

You turned around to settled your bottom against his erection while moving your hair aside exposing your bare back to him. Holding your hips to his, he slowly starts to gyrate against you. "Your ass feels so good" he whispers in between kisses against your bare shoulder. Hands spanning your slim waist and sliding up to your breasts. You drop your head back savoring the feeling spreading all over your body. "I love the way you smell, baby girl" his voice gruff on your neck. He turned you around and opens his mouth over yours. His hands cupped your ass, massaging them to his arousal. Standing on tiptoes and pressing your breasts to him, you felt his hands inch down to your thighs and in one swift motion lifted you up, legs wrapped around his waist. You lustily gasped in his mouth with surprise but took his lips back, delving your tongue inside to taste more of him.

Your body always wanting more of him.

He sets you down on his table, his recording equipment strewn beside you, his kiss undisturbed. Putting your legs on either side of the arm rest of his swivel chair, he ran his hands over your legs hiking your skirt up, he motioned to sit on his chair when you stopped him, “I wanna show you something”, pushing your hair away, you pulled the black skinny string at your nape. Jungkook’s eye followed the fabric of your halter top slowly fall away, exposing your creamy breasts. “Do you like it?” biting on your lip.

“I love it.”

You found his eyes transfixed on your nipple ring. His hands slowly followed the trail of your neck down to cup your breast, his touch almost scorching. His head lowered to relish on your pierced nipple, wet tongue flicking on your already sensitive nub sending bolts of hot flushes to the pit of your stomach. As his other hand kneaded your other breast, he continued to play with your nipple ring. You thought you were going to go mad with his teasing, you grabbed a fistful of his hair as you arched your back to him. Closing your eyes and throwing your head back, you bit on your lower lip to contain the pleasure running all over your body. A husky moan escaped from your throat as your legs drew him closer.

“Jungkook”, your voice barely a whisper as he leaves a trail of hot kisses from your breast to your sensitive belly button. You hear the rustle of your skirt as he lifted it up over you thighs. “I can see how hot you are for me, baby girl. God, you are so wet” your wetness soaking through the crotch of your bodysuit, he started to palm your sex over the fabric, the friction of the buttons on your clit escalating your lust. “Only for you.” You countered in a raspy voice, you heart pounding in your ears. “Touch me, I want to feel your fingers inside me.” He released the three buttons holding your bodysuit to reveal the soft folds of your throbbing womanhood.

“Fuck, you’re not even wearing panties” you brushed your tongue over your lips as you give him an impish smile. “Touch me,” you said to him again. His eyes darkened to kiss you, his hand brushing the inside of your thigh finding its way to touch you between your legs. After licking his fingers, he deftly slid a digit in to you. In and out of your damp slit, thumbing your sensitive bud. “Like this?” his warm breath in your ear as you throw your head back. Another fingers joined to fondle you, you can only moan in pleasure to answer him.

He gives you a torrid kiss before disappearing under your skirt that has bunched up on your waist and hips. The moment his warm tongue touched your core, you felt the coil in your stomach tighten ten-fold. His hands cupping the sides of your hips as he continues to ravage you. "You taste so good, baby girl" the humming vibration of his voice against your pussy shot a burn to your stomach. You can feel the building white heat spreading across you, consuming rationality. Your thighs tighten and you feel yourself start to quiver as you feel your climax coming. "Jungkook, I- I'm cumming" you grab his hair as ecstasy wash over you. "No, we cum together." His voice almost violently rough against your thigh. He comes up to take his hardened dick out of his pants. You help him out of his shirt and run your hands over his toned torso. You tug him close to kiss his chest and suck on his nipple, your hands gliding to touch what you can reach of his bottom.

He tilts you up by the chin, "Taste yourself" he murmurs before closing his mouth over yours. Your hands reached out to fondle his dick and rubbed its wet tip against your clit, sending a shockwave of rapture through your body. You moaned in his mouth with erotic pleasure. "You like that, huh?" his hands kneading your breasts.

"Take me to utopia."

That was all he needed to shove his blunt length into you, spreading you from the inside. He growled in your kiss as he felt your heat engulfing him. Moaning his name, your fingers dug onto his back as he starts to slowly pace his thrusts. He pulled his hips back almost taking himself out and thrusting back into you again."Fuck! You feel so good, baby girl” burrowing his head on the crook of your neck. “I like that, don’t stop” you bit onto his shoulder. The feel of your breast rubbing against his chest magnified your inflamed desire a hundred fold. “You’re so tight and wet. You are driving me insane” his breath panting against your skin.

“You’re so thick, Jungkook. Take me higher.“ you leaned on your elbows exposing your half naked body to him, arching your back. He grabbed you by your hips and sped up his pace.

You feel white heat spreading across your belly and onto the rest of your body. “Jungkook!” His thumb rubbing on your throbbing clit as his full length filled your walls. "Right here, baby? Is this your sweet spot?". His increased thrust touching your magic spot made you stifle the moans wanting to escape from your mouth. The tightened coil in your tummy becoming too taut is ready to come undone.

Your head turns to the aquarium by the wall and you can see the reflection of your lasciviousness. This and the beady sweat forming on Jungkook's forehead turned you on even more. His low growl each time he pumps into you makes your pussy wetter.

Finally, you feel the pressure ready to burst within you and you find yourself uncontrollably yielding to it. Head upturned and back arching, your walls clenched tighter around his member. You feel yourself clinging onto him as your body surrenders to ecstasy.

You feel Jungkook grip your thighs tighter as he pushes in for a final thrust to his summit. Your bodies riding the wave of your euphoria.

His head drops to the crook of your neck, all sweaty and heart throbbing at high-octane speed. "That felt so good, baby girl."

"You are the cause of my euphoria" you traced his jaw with your finger. He smiles into your skin.

"Can you wear this more often." His eyes playful. "Jungkook." You both chuckle at the same time. You sucked in a breath as he withdraws out of you.

Retying the black string on your nape, you looked up at him to ask, "Can we get something to eat now?" He laughs as he swings you down from your perch and escorts you out of the room.

His golden arowana swimming in his tank, unbothered.

~fin.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts #studiosex #smut #recordingstudio #jpearl

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thatmexisaurusrex · 3 years ago

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The Shotgun Angel: Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2: THE DEVIL’S DEN

She was a good deal taller than six foot. From what Pearl could gander, almost seven feet. She, like Ortega, felt too perfectly put together to be real. A cloud of black hair, no loose threads on here maxi dress over a white turtleneck, vibrant stockings with thick socks and doc martens. She shouldn’t look so on point. Not with a hodgepodge outfit like that. Yet so she did, standing aloof behind Noel, following her like a lost puppy hoping for scraps.

“We need coupled blood for the look up, give me your blood,” Noel demanded at the priest and the fallen angel, flailing a knife at them casually and gesturing with a particularly copper bowl.

Like that was a normal thing to do.

“What,” was the only thing Pearl could muster before the priest interrupted with a groan.

“Again? Seriously? I feel like we should just ring out a pint every other month so that you don’t have to ask us every time you want to locate people,” grumbled Iker.

“Coupled? What does coupled mean?” Pearl asked, something in her brain short-circuiting.

Ortega curled his arms around the priest like a bad joke, like snakes on prey, eyes lingering on the man who leaned into his touch.

“We called each other our own gods,” boomed Ortega with a tantalizing grin, the priest choking on his own spit.

“That’s not what we did,” panicked Iker.

“Did I not kneel upon the alter of your shrine, invoking eternal and absolute love and devotion to your being?” growled Ortega, which, wow, were all angels this intense, “Bowing to you as my new religion, revoking my rite to holy power and immortality to be at your beck and call, as are you to me?”

Iker looked away as if shy.

“Can we not talk about this here,” he murmured, “It doesn’t help with how we look amongst the children.”

“We are gods to each other, my dear, to follow to the end of our days, and there is no shame to show love. We are stronger when we show and accept our emotions near the children,” drawled the fallen angel.

Noel waved the copper bowl and the knife, rolling her eyes.

“We going to talk about eternal love and happiness or whatever or are we getting this show on the road – they got married for a case, by the way. They just never got divorced afterwards. It’s helpful but also so annoying,” remarked Noel.

Iker grabbed the knife, doing a few impressive tricks before pricking himself and the fallen angel, allowing a few of droplets into the copper bowl. He wiped off the knife, tossing it back at Noel in an honestly unsafe way, but the cursed woman caught the knife and ushered for Pearl to take it as well.

“Excuse me?” Pearl queried.

“He’s your brother. To track him I need some blood from you too,” explained Noel.

Reluctantly, Pearl grabbed the knife. It felt lighter than Pearl assumed, and looking closer, there seemed to be runes etched into the edge. Pearl pricked her finger, allowing a few drips to flow down, mixing in with the blood already there.

Noel bounded about the place as if she commanded rooms, gathering strange herbs in weird hidden spots.

“Stop hiding your things around the place like a strange hoarder or a sneaky thief,” half-heartedly yelled Iker, “Just choose a cubby or something.”

Noel headed back, crushing whatever mess she was making with her bare hands.

“I don’t know, like, a good handful of those words. I mean, what even is a cubby?” grumbled Noel, tossing a lit match into the mash as white smoke bloomed from the bowl, going straight into her eyes and Pearl still wondered if what she said about not being a demon was true.

Noel wobbled, Dru reminding Pearl she was in the room by keeping the young woman steady on her feet. It made Pearl jump. But no one cared about Pearl’s reaction, though. Noel rested her head on Dru’s shoulder, frowning.

“Well. He’s in Hades House,” said Noel.

Pearl wouldn’t have said the room was exactly a pleasant atmosphere before, but the room’s tension felt as thick as a trifle now. Iker stomped towards his office.

“I’m going with you,” said Iker.

“What? No. I can do this. I don’t need a keeper,” said Noel.

“Iker, she can work a case,” said Ortega, stopping Iker, holding his arm, “You don’t do cases anymore.”

“But its Hades House,” growled Iker.

Noel shook off whatever fears her frown hid before, shoulders stiff as she glared at the Iker, grabbing Pearl and Dru as she backed them both towards the door.

“Yeah, so? Been there before. It’ll be no problem. Better than stepping into an unknown devil’s den,” said Noel.

“Don’t worry too much, I’ll be there for her,” said Dru, chiming in for the first time since she woke up from whatever bizarre coma she was in.

Noel pulled them out of that chapel into the streets, the children from before gaggling and giggling as they watched the three leave. There were a lot of those, weren’t there? Strange little children scurrying about the place. Noel swung around, keeping her hold on Dru as she walked to the left, deeper into New Town, down narrower streets.

“What’s this about Hades House?” asked Pearl, “And devil’s dens?”

There was a rage simmering in Pearl. She loathed this. Not knowing things. She made it a point to never be at the mercy of another person, yet here she was, being dragged deeper into what could possibly be a dangerous trap.

“They’re places where darkness lurks,” Noel explained, “Where daemons make their human homes, where deals are made to particularly powerful people. It’s a horrorfest. Best to keep close, for nothing good comes of them.”

Dru nudged Noel.

“I wouldn’t say nothing good comes of them. I met you in Hades House, after all,” hummed Dru.

And for a moment, Noel smiled wistfully up at her shotgun angel. As if she were human. As if emotions can be held in those topaz eyes. That poor girl was either pitifully naïve or obtusely ignorant. Angels could have no such emotions, even if that fallen angel Ortega seemed to be an exception to the rule. Pearl almost felt sorry for Noel.

“Yeah. I guess I did,” Noel said before clearing her throat, turning to Pearl as she added, “But I’m the exception to the rule, okay? Trust me, no good comes of them.”

The first thing that felt wrong was how pristine the building was amongst all the clatter. A tall, smooth, black obelisk of a building with fire spelling out the words “HADES HOUSE” atop, fire lighting the way to the front door. Pearl glanced over to Dru and Noel, hoping for some sort of guidance.

“So, we walk?” asked Dru.

“What? No. Never. Never walk through the front door – I keep telling you that,” said Noel.

Dru rolled her eyes. As if she could be annoyed.

“You keep saying that. It always feels rude,” Dru responded.

“Well, we’re not going for a visit and a cup of tea, are we? No. This is a wreck them up sneak attack, in and out,” said Noel, pulling them around the building carefully.

Dru was noticeably awkward in her sneaking about, despite how graceful her movements seemed to be up until then. Maybe it was the whole sneaking around thing? Pearl was sure angels rarely had to do such things. They never had to with the powers they have. Noel faltered, pausing for a moment and patting herself down, tossing Pearl a breathing mechanism.

“Wear the mask. It’ll filter miasma out,” Noel said.

Dru froze, gazing down at the mask.

“Miasma? I thought that only happened in films,” stuttered Pearl.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s how it is up there in Old Town. Very cushy, good for you. Unless you want long term magicks poisoning, wear that mask,” said Noel pointedly.

Pearl grumbled, positioning the ugly mask and adjusting the straps. It felt…filtered. The gross stale kind that one could smell in the particularly old buildings that hadn’t kept up to date on their air systems.

“Why aren’t you two wearing masks?” asked Pearl.

“Oh. Right. Well, angels have no need of it and, um…due to my particular cursing, miasma doesn’t impact me like most humans,” explained Noel, suddenly stiff, “Too much talk. We’re going in. Follow close. Stay near Dru, she’ll protect you.”

Dru gave an empty smile to Pearl that Pearl guessed was supposed to comfort her, but only made her feel worse about this whole situation. To be watched over by an angel? What a monstrous thought. But there didn’t seem to be any other option but to continue on through with them, close to the strange shotgun angel and the cursed woman.

It was gaudier than Pearl expected. Like some sort of hell-themed funhouse, with bright colors and strobing lights. Whatever mooks drew the short straw for back door duty looked like they dressed circus goes punk, intense exaggerated makeup and sharp yet tule-heavy varied uniforms, like someone went to an abandoned carnival and was told to make clothes out of the broken mirrors and leftover costumes.

One stood up, a man with a fuzzy hat and a tiger-onesy, pulling down his mirrored sunglasses as he blew technicolor smoke from his glass straw. Pearl wondered if this idiot was in charge of the rest of the band around.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t lil’ Noel Baird. Haven’t seen you around in a while. Heard you’re making a name for yourself. Whispers on the street,” he said.

Noel didn’t respond. There was a guttural noise, raw and instinctual, as she moved swift, punching the man straight in the throat. He choked for a second, stumbling, gargling, and falling on his back. His friends stood up, twirling their glass straws as they grew longer into glass-like beacons, like horns, horned instruments, something to blow through.

“No, don’t start,” the man tried to warn his cronies before they all began blowing that rainbow smoke like continuous soap bubbles, a woman with half a tutu, half an intricately woven golden clown costume bringing her hands up as she started ruminating words, pulling out a spell.

Spells were usually so innocuous. Blessings by street artists to make money off of crowds. Short films. Hallucinations of a summer day in a desert of red sand. Floating for just a moment. Pearl didn’t know what was happening here. She’d never seen such a spell before. It hurt to look at it.

Noel sucked in the rainbow smoke like a vacuum, the woman starting her spell convulsing and going into shock. For a moment she kept it in, held it as the people around stared in horror.

“Oh halos and harps, she’s a Sin Eater,” a woman with a one-armed, one-legged full body suit announced, horrified, her glass horn wilting back into a thin glass straw.

Miasma. That was what it was, wasn’t it? The rainbow. Daemon magicks. Miasma. They tried to flee. Pearl was sure of it. The only one smart enough to scramble a mask on was the first man who tried to warn the others, the one who knew Noel. Maybe he was able to because he knew this would be coming. The others had no chance, did they? And just like that, Noel blew the miasma straight at them, skin flaying in her wake, all of them crumbling in pain on the ground.

“You’re sick, you know that?” the man on the ground managed to cough, still impacted despite his mask, “To your own people.”

“You’re not my people,” Noel said, stepping over him and continuing onward, Dru pulling Peal away from the carnage in this room.

They stormed quietly through maze-like hallways that didn’t seem to have any normal logic to them, though, somehow Noel knew the way with ease. Maybe it was a disconnect. She was of daemon, even if she denounced it. How could a human swallow miasma like that and shoot it back out? What even was a “Sin Eater”?

They finally reached a door at the end of a diagonal hallway, ducking away from it and stopping. Noel gave Dru a glance, a talk amongst eyes, before Dru grabbed hold of Pearl. Pearl yelped. She heard of an angel’s touch before, sure. She heard about the odd tingly sensation that could come from it, but she didn’t expect it to feel like constant static shock. Pearl squirmed under the surprise of small pain. But neither Noel nor Dru seemed to care. Noel opened the door, hopping down.

When Dru pulled Pearl in too, that was when Pearl realized the gravity felt off, falling to the ceiling of a gold-plated throne room decorated with gem plant sculptures. He was there. Aria. With his stupid expensive quaff and elaborate three-piece suit. And in front of him, a woman with the most spectacular green eyes, like a grassy knoll. Green. Pearl wondered if green was something in all daemon’s eyes. Or simply a coincidence.

The woman was all muscles. A wall draped in an outfit that seemed made of a big top tent itself. She sat on a chair of funhouse mirrors, arms opening as she noticed the intrusion, smile filled with graded down sharp teeth. Noel stepped forward, glaring.

There was something familiar between the woman and Noel. A flicker between the eyes. Of pain, of hope, of humoring the other – both taking a beat before the lava cooled and malice set in between the two. Pearl wondered if this were a different world, then they would talk like it was normal, work out whatever those looks meant. But there obviously was no wiggle room in this world.

“The Baird child. We’ve missed you. Did you come for the price on your own head? How devious of you, I might have underestimated your gumption,” she said.

Pearl knew she should be paying attention or something, but all she could think about was Aria being stupid, kneeling on the ground, gazing upon this strange green-eyed woman with rapt awe.

“You really think that, Mara? That’s what you’re reading from the situation?” spat Noel.

Mara sighed, kicking Aria to the side casually. He toppled over, rolling several times. Pearl moved to do something, anything, but Dru kept her in place.

“I was hoping you’d grown smarter since then. I thought angels were supposed to be galaxy brains or something dumb like that,” Mara bemoaned, “Azazel won’t like this. He wasn’t happy before, but this? In his own abode? You insult him? Oh, you thought it was dangerous before. Let’s see what he does now.”

Noel shrugged, too casual, like she wasn’t scared of this woman. How could she not be scared? How could she be so cool near some daemon? She even looked like she was enjoying this.

“Oh, I’ve gotten smarter. Something I’ve learned from smaller devil dens is that people without your prowess, without your level of Miasma intake? They keep pockets to break over time. They save up and use wisely, unlike the house of gluttony you run,” explained Noel, “They have to, you see, with their limited resources, their lesser scaled magicks.”

Mara was definitely bored now.

“Your point?” groaned Mara.

“It’s like you always told me,” Noel said, circling the daemon, adjusting her stance, signing something so quickly Pearl wasn’t sure if that was ASL or just nervous ticks.

Noel snapped, electricity flowing from a miasma circle surrounding the daemon. Noel grinned for a moment, victorious, seeing Mara roar in pain. She was definitely loving this. There was something in her. There had to be something in her. It horrified Pearl, she knew Noel was not right.

Whatever success Noel earned was short, the ring of lightning quickly dissipating around Mara. Mara growled, turning to a surprised Noel as the lightning soaks into Noel much like the miasma did for Noel back in that first room.

“You spoiled, ungrateful child,” boomed Mara, her hand slapping Noel over.

Like a ragdoll. She flew, broken in the air, hitting the wall hard. Too hard. Deathly hard. She wasn’t moving on the ground. Was she even breathing? Did Pearl make a mistake choosing Noel’s services?

#writeblr #original writing #fantasy #dystopian #writing #Serial #The Shotgun Angel #Chapter 2

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kadtherine · 7 years ago

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alec lightwood appreciation 2017

week 5 : family

Alec was going over a particular mission detail with Raj when he noticed both Isabelle and Max sneaking out of the OPS center. With a frown, he practically shoved the file in Raj’s head, stammering out a barely thought excuse before he took his leave, rushing after his siblings before either of them could disappear from his sight. He dodged returning patrols and avoided the crowded halls, where previously laughing shadowhunters pretended to busy themselves at the sight of the Head of the Institute. Alec payed them no mind, focused on following his siblings’ tracks. He eventually found them standing in front of the Institute’s front doors, both readying themselves to get out much to Alec’s confusion. He watched with crossed arms and a mix of curiosity and confusion, Isabelle wrap a thick scarf around Max’s neck, the latter mildly irritated by her fretting as he busied himself with filling a backpack. After making sure that every morsel of Max’s skin had been covered, Isabelle grabbed a leather jacket and quickly shrugged it on, taking her hair out the her jacket with a swift movement before she tied it up in a tight ponytail. Alec’s eyes widened when he watched Isabelle get her stele out of her back pocket - of all the places to keep it, he thought with aggravation - and started working on a Glamouring Rune.

Both were in the process of switching their combat boots to simple sneakers when Alec decided to make his presence known. Slipping out of his dark corner, he took a few steps toward them before Max lifted his head, a smile appearing on his face when he noticed him.

“Hey, Alec!”

“Hey…,” Alec tilted his head to the side, stuffing a hand in his pocket, “You guys are going on a trip or somethin’?”

“Simon told me about that comic store that I really want to visit,” Max informed him, bouncing on his toes in both excitement and impatience.

Alec frowned down at his little brother before looking back at Isabelle, an eyebrow cocked in question. How had the annoying mundane-turned-vampire spend enough time with Max for him to remember his name, Alec thought. Isabelle responded to his look with an eye roll and an annoyed sigh. Shrugging on her own backpack, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before fixing Max’s collar.

“Do you want to come with us?” Max offered, his tone slightly hopeful before he batted Isabelle’s hands away, “Jace is going to meet us in some coffee in a hour.”

Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, Alec threw a quick look in a direction of the OPS, where things seemed to be strangely calm - the calm before the storm, nagged an irritating voice in his mid - before he looked up to the grandfather clock.

“It’s getting late.”

“It’s barely three,” Isabelle protested, her previous annoyance remplaced by excitement at the prospect of spending the afternoon with her brothers, “Come on, it’ll be fun. When was the last time we spend time with just the four of us?”

His jaw clenched, Alec dipped his head down, frowning at the groan in thought. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he had spend time with Isabelle and Jace because of something that wasn’t a mission. Now that he had been appointed as Head of the Institute, Alec barely had the time to see Max whenever the latter would visit. Alec looked back up and groaned when met with two matching pouts.

“I can’t. I’ve got to-”

“Oh come on!” Isabelle insisted, almost whining. “We’ll go to the zoo and we could have early dinner in Manhattan. You’ve got to come with us or it won’t be the same. I’m sure you can leave the Institute for the evening without it burning down,” she added, her tone softer.

Alec snorted, running his fingers through his hair a couple of times before he let his head fall onto the back of his neck. Looking back at his siblings, he found Isabelle staring at him, a knowing - seemingly victorious - smirk plastered on her face and her arms crossed against her chest in feigned patience while Max was holding both hands in front of his, as if begging for something. Letting his arms fall to his sides, Alec let out a sigh in resign - from the corner of his eye, he could see Isabelle’s smirk widen at his quiet abandon.

“Lemme grab my jacket.”

They stood in front of a street cart, both patiently waiting for their commands while observing their surroundings. A few steps away from them, Max stated wide eyed at the different cosplayers posing with tourists down Times Square, his bretzel forgotten in his hands. With a smirk, Alec turned back to Isabelle, the latter buried against him in search of some warmth.

“Does your special sibling outing activities include you catching a cold and/or us getting food intoxication from this dubious street cart?” he teased, propping his chin on her head.

He winced and leaned back when Isabelle responded by pinching his side. Detangling herself from Alec, she glared up at him before pulling down the scarf that covered half of her face.

“Don’t be rude,” she muttered.

At the call of their orders, Isabelle reached into his pocket, getting two bills of ten and putting them on a counter with a smile while Alec grabbed both his f their bretzels and sauces. Isabelle looped an arm through his, dragging them away from the booth before he could ask for or be given his change. She ignored Alec frowning down at her and grabbed her snack out of his hand.

“You’re aware all three bretzels only costed 15 bucks, right?”

“I wouldn’t have tipped him extra if you hadn’t been a jerk,” Isabelle knocked her hip against his, “come on, you grump. Admit you’re having fun.”

He rolled his eyes and bit into his salty treat as they both lazily strolled down the street, Max ahead of them and exchanging high fives with Spiderman. He was having fun. He had enjoyed their short promenade through Central Park, where both Max and Isabelle had been invited to feed the horses and responded with excited squeals. He then, had fun when they had moved further into the park’s zoo, tugging Max’s hood with an amused grin when the latter would get too close to the felines’ enclosure - like face-stuck-to-the-glass-panel-too close. He had watched fondly as Isabelle had stepped not the monkeys’ enclosure, feeding them popcorn as they climbed onto her shoulder.However, admitting to having fun was only asking Isabelle to smugly brag that she had been right and she probably drop her $5 dollar caramel bretzel to the ground while doing a victory dance.

Alec hummed in an noncommittal way, hiding a smirk when she groaned in frustration. He watched with a small smile as Max stopped in his tracks and walked back to them, a frown on his face and his soggy bretzel in his hand.

“Could I get another thing to eat when we get to the café?” he asked.

“You aren’t done with this,” Alec sighed, inwardly preparing himself for his brother’s arguing, “I thought we agreed on only getting something to drink once we get there.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect it to taste g- to not like it,” Max quickly corrected when Alec leveled a warning glare at him, “plus, I want some cheesecake.“

Before Alec could protest, Isabelle reached forward and plopped the rest of Max’s bretzel out of his hands before popping it in her mouth. Her mouth full, she looked up at Alec, her cheeks puffed as she grinned mischievously at him. He stared back at her, unimpressed, as she made a show of checking and swallowing the food with a loud gulp.

“Problem solved,” Isabelle said, her grin matching Max’s as she sucked salt pearls stuck on her thumb, “Where to next?”

They had decided that, next should be the infamous comic store Simon had talked to Max about. Store that was beyond crowded and did nothing to put the young vampire in Alec’s favors. While Isabelle’s arm was looped through his, Alec had to keep a hand on Max’s shoulder, stopping the over excited boy from wandering by himself and disappearing into the crowd. Max bounced from the comic section to the pop figure section, blabbering about such and such that both tired and amused Alec while Isabelle seemed to be following what he was such with no difficulty. He found himself thinking that it wasn’t only his baby brother that had been spending too much time with Simon. Before they walked out the store, Max insisted on buying a pop figure for each of his siblings - Alec ended up with a Hawkeye figure, Isabelle was the happy receivant of a Black Widow figure and all three agreed on buying a Captain America for Jace.

Isabelle, dragged them from the comic store to the Lego store where then, followed a competition between the three siblings on who coud build the most impressive monument or building. Isabelle was haflway through a perfect Lego-repica of the Institute before a toddler rushed in and proceeded to destruct her piece, much too Alec and Max’s amusement. Isabelle lashed out of frustration, her fist crashing into Alec’s Eiffel Tower and sending Legos flying everywhere, shooting a mischievious grin in response to his protesting cries. Max was declared winnner by elimination.

They walked out of the store, Isabelle and Max ahead while Alec walked a few feet behind them. He snorted as they both began skipping in synch, arms linked together. They had to stop at a roadcrossings, laughing to themselves about something, falling silent when Alec joined them. He cocked an eyebrow at them, to which Isabelle and Max responded with smothered laughter. They sobered and resumed their skipping when the pedestrian turned green. Alec watched as they slowed down, waiting from him to catch up.

“Y’know, your hair’s getting kinda long,” Isabelle said with a frown, raking her fingers through Max’s blonde hair, “you’re in need of a haircut.”

“No, I’m not!” Max protested, batting her hand away and brushing his hair back, “Beside, it gives me an edge.”

“An edge?” Alec snorted, “You’re 11. Why would you need to look edgy?”

Max shrugged in response, oblivious to the look Isabelle and Alec exchanged over his head. Alec caught sight of Jace already in the café, sitting at a window’s seat. Jace lifted his head at the same momen and met his gaze, lifting a hand in greeting. Alec returned the greeting with a nod as he walked ahead to the café’s door, holding it opened for his younger siblings. Isabelle put both hands on Max’s shoulders and led him to the bathroom while Alec went to join Jace by the table.

“Hey, quick question,” Alec started as he caught the drink Jace slid his way, “what’s your opinion about Max cutting his hair?”

“Why should he? It’s giving him an edge,” Jace frowned, sipping on his coffee as he leaned back in his chair, “Why?”

“No reason,” Alec smirked, drumming his fingers against the table.

Narrowing his eyes at him, Jason run his fingers through his hair and crossed a leg over the other. He grinned when seeing both Isabelle and Max joined the table. Isabelle greeted Jace with a kiss on the cheek before grabbing the styrofoam cup of tea in front of her.

“Hey little man,” Jace bumped his fist against Max’ before handing him a cup of hot chocolate, “Ready to meet Lady Liberty? The next ferry’s for Manhattan is in ten,” he added while getting up.

“I thought we would’ve the time to eat before we go,” Max frowned, slightly disappointed.

As if on cue, Jace smirked and held up a paper bag, waggling his eyebrows at the younger boy.

“I gotcha, bro.”

Chuckling at Max’s bright grin, Jace carefully slipped the paper back in his brother’s backpack before he tapped him on his shoulder, silently informing him to move forward.

“Vamos, people,” Jace prompted, earning a look from Isabelle.

The ferry’s bridge was surprisingly empty of people - Alec attributed the lack of crowds to the bad weather and the late hour. Not that it would usually deter New Yorkers or tourists, but for some reasons they had chosen to stay inside the boat. Not that he minded - according to Alec, the less people, the better. Alec had chosen to sit on a bench, safe from the big gushes of wind while keeping an eye on Jace and Max, both - dangerously - leaning over the railing and looking into the Hudson. If it wasn’t for Jace’s arm around Max’s waist, Alec would have already dragged them both away from it.

Stretching his legs over him, Alec pulled his hood over his head and downed the rest of the coffee, relishing in its warmth. He barely had the time to pull his arms away before Isabelle came to lay on him, bundled in her leather jacket, hoodie and scarf. Alec leaned his head back with a grunt and tilted it to the side so he wouldn’t get a mouth full of hair.

“Comfy?” Alec deadpanned.

“Very, thank you,” Isabelle shot back as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Alec scoffed and brushed her hair away before he wrapped his arms around her, swallowing a wince when her elbow dug into his ribs as she got comfortable. As if she heard his intake of breath, she shot him a small look and grimaced, mouthing a quiet apology. He pinced her side in respone before adjusting his hold on her. Isabelle turned back around and let out a content sigh.

“This is nice.”

Alec hummed, his hold tightening around her. A comfortable silence fell between the two, only broken by the sound of the wind and waves. Alec’s gaze turned to Jace and Max, smiling when he saw the both of them engage in an intense thumb-war. His eyes, then, fell to Isabelle at the sound of her laugh, the latter as engaged in the match as both of her brothers.

This is nice, Alec thought, almost surprised at the sound of his own laugh mixing with Isabelle. He pursed his lips, smothering his laughter when Isabelle sat up and threw him a look over her shoulder, a smirk tugging at her lips and a victorious glint in her eye. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

Isabelle kept smirking and shrugged, running her fingers through her hair before she reached into her Pocket and got a familiar device out of it. Eyes wide-opened, Alec sat up, an arm automaticaly wrapping around Isabelle’s waist to prevent her from falling, and snatched his phone out of her hands.

“Izzy! What are you doing with my phone?”

“Had to make sure you wouldn’t spend the day on it, worrying about the Institute and stuff. Plus,” she shrugged in a nonchalant way, unbothered by his annoye glare, “Mom told me to do so.”

As if it were possible, Alec’s eyes grew wider and his eyebrows climbed higher on his forehead.

“Mom- told you to do so?! Mom knows about this?”

“Of course she does,” Isabelle retorted in a ‘duh, idiot’ tone before she took his phone and shoved it back in her pocket, “How do I think I got the four of us to leave the Institute without any resistance? Beside, I’m not an idiot: I wouldn’t leave the Institute without supervision.”

Alec was torn between bein angry or amused by this entire ordeal. He couldn’t help but laugh at the satisfied grin Isabelle wore and for the umptenth time in his lifetime, Alec was relieved that Isabelle was on their side. With her genius, strength and mischievousness, she’d be able to take over the world within hours. Shifting on his lap, Isabelle began poking his chest.

“Now admit it: this was the best idea ever and I’m a genius.”

Alec grabbed both of her hands with his free one, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I never denied the fact that you were a genius. As for this being the ‘best idea ever’,” he cocked his head to the side and smirked, “day’s still young, hermanita. It could all go to hell, knowing us.”

Letting out a scoff, Isabelle freed her hands from his grasp and gave his chest a last shove.

“Aguafiesta.”

Late into the evening, a couple of young men could be seen racing through the streets of New York, each carrying another person on their backs and each talking trash to the other. Pedestrians hastely moved out of their way as they jumped over benches and pratically flew to cross the pedestrian crossings before it turned red.

“Come on, Alec! They’re catching up,” Max urged him on, his arms tightening around his neck as Alec took a sharp turn.

Alec risked a look back, smirking at Isabelle screaming and almost kicking Jace’s sides for him to go faster. He heard his parabatai’s muffled ‘damn it, Iz” I’m not a freakin’ horse! stop digging your heels in’ as he turned back around, nearly crashing into a couple of women. He slowed down his pace with a gasp, ignoring Max’s whining in his ear as Jace and Isabelle flew pass them, the latter cackling at them. Swallowing a curse, Alec threw an apology over his shoulder before he resumed the horse, adjusting his hold on Max.

He breathed out a sigh when catching sight of the enlightened Institute and both Isabelle and Jace sitting at the front steps. Skidding to a stop, Alec let a petulant and arguing Max off his back as he rushed to his smug siblings’.

“I demand a rematch!” he declared, stomping his feet as he climbed the stairs.

“Aw, come on, Maxi-Max, don’t be such a sore-loser,” Jace said as he got up, dusting off his hands on his pants

Max humphed, crossing his arms over his chest and avoiding Isabelle’s hands as he pushed in the heavy front door of the Institute, closely followed by his siblings. The OPS centre was still buzzing with activity at their arrival, Maryse standing in front of a multitude of screens, her lip stuck between her teeth as she listened to whatever was being said. She looked away at the sound of the bickering, her concentration replaced by amusement. Handing her tablet to a nearby Shadowhunter, Maryse quickly got down the stairs and walked toward her four children.

“And here I was thinking that this place was too quiet,” Maryse said, her smile widened when all heads swiveled to face her. Her gaze drifting to a still pouting Max, “Did you have fun, love?”

“It was fine, I guess,” he shrugged before glaring up at Isabelle and Jace, “before these two ruined it by cheating-”

“Hey now, dude,” Jace interrupted, frowning down at Max, “we won fair and square-”

A new wave of bickering erupted between the three younger siblings, causing Maryse to throw a look at Alec. Alec responded with an eye roll, cocking an eyebrow at her as if silently telling her that it was her fault. And technically, it was. Maryse returned the look, crossing her arms and cocking a head to the side : they’re your siblings. Deal with them. With a long sigh, Alec put both hands on Max’s shoulders, putting an end to the argument.

“We’ll have our rematch, Max. Promise. Just not today, it’s getting late.”

As Max was about to protest that he wasn’t tired, a traitorous yawn escaped his mouth. Alec smirked down at him, ruffling his hair before he looked up at his mother, the latter pursing her lips in attempt to smother her laugh. Clearing her threat, Maryse leaned down so she was eye-levelled with Max and brushed away the locks of hair that fell over his eyes.

“How about you go up, put away your things and hop in the shower? I’ll come up later to check on you;”

Max blew out a breath and nodded, dragging his feet as he made his way to his private quarters. Isabelle shot a small, tired smile at her mother and let out a yawn of her own, pulling her hair out of her ponytail.

“I’m going to go up too. I’ll check on Max,” she reached for her mother, giving her a short embrace, “Night, losers,” she threw over her shoulders.

“Night, Iz’,” Alec retorted with an eyeroll.

Jace muttered something about going to see if Clary had already turned up for the night before taking his leave, oblivious to Alec’s and Maryse’s amusement. He threw a look to his mother and let out a long-suffering sigh, earning a snort from the older woman. Alec shrugged off his leather jacket with a groan and fell into step with Maryse as they made their way around the OPS centre.

“How were things around here?” Alec asked, rolling his neck and snapping back into leader mode.

Maryse stopped in her tracks and put a hand on his arm, forcing him to turn and face.

“I’ve been handling this Institute long before you can walk, Alec. I’ve got things under control.”

“I know, b-”

“How about you tell me how about your day?” she interrupted,wrapping an arm around his, in a similar manner Isabelle had done earlier, “Did you have fun?”

Alec blinked down at her, wondering for a second if something had gone wrong during his absence and she was trying to hide it from. But brown eyes stared back into his and Alec only saw genuine curiosity and affection. As if sensing his hesitation, Maryse squeezed his arm, snapping him out of his train of thoughts.

“Uh, it was fine. Max didn’t get eaten by tigers, Izzy made friends with a capucin monkey and Jace didn’t fall into the Hudson. Sounds like a pretty good day to me,” he said, flashing his mother a sheepish smile.

“While I’m glad that all your siblings are alive and well, this isn’t what I asked,” Maryse chuckled when he frowned down at her, as if genuinely confused, “Did you had fun?”

Alec found himself pondering over the question. Unnecessarily, of course since he had already - although, albeit relucantly - admitted to himself that Isabelle’s idea hadn’t been as bad as he had thought it would be. He remembered genuinely enjoying himself when feeding the cows at the zoo - he might have named one or two, but that was his secret to know. Alec remembered laughing at loud during their sibling competition in the Lego store, wiping tears when Isabelle’s building had been rendered to pieces - literaly. Hell, Alec already pictured where he would put the Hawkeye pop figure Max had bought him - on his desk in the office, next to a photo they had taken in Central Park last year.

Alec looked down at his mother,the latter staring back at her with a knowing smile. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I won’t tell Isabelle, promise,” she whispered.

“Well, in that case,” Alec snorted, “I guess I had fun.”

And while his tone was sarcastic, his words were as genuine as Maryse’s responding smile.

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rhnuzlocke · 7 years ago

Text

Bonus Scene

Josh and Zinnia go to a bar

Another scene I wrote a head of time and had to scrap. This was going to go near the beginning of episode 18 between the time Josh gets some new clothes and starts feeling better about himself but before the scene when he overhears Tabitha and Maxie screaming at each other and starts to feel that his actions and Ren’s are tearing Magma apart.

[Josh, Hartmann and Brenton are sitting at a bar. The bartender is a young woman and demonstrates that she is experienced in fending off drunken advances as they watch her make her way down the line towards them.]

Hartmann: I’m glad you came out with us, bro. Why didn’t you let us take you for your birthday?

Josh: I just—I wasn’t feeling up to it.

Hartmann: But is was your eighteenth! You’re supposed to go to a bar and get smashed! It’s tradition!

[Josh squirms uncomfortably and Brenton leans around him to glare at Hartman, who shrinks away. Once he is satisfied, he turns his attention to Josh.]

Brenton: Do things at your own pace.

[The bartender finally gets to them and Josh gulps as she leans on the bar in front of them. This does not go unnoticed by Hartmann and Brenton, who share a knowing smile.]

Bartender: What can I get you all?

Hartmann: Shiftry whisky on the rocks.

Brenton: Domestic brandy, neat please.

Bartender: Coming right up. And you?

Josh: Um, I’m a little new to this. Maybe you could help me? Any recommendations?

Bartender: Of course, hun. Any type of alcohol you’re particularly interested in?

Josh: [flushing just a little] No. I’m sure I’ll like whatever you pick out.

Bartender: Alright then, coming right up.

[She swivels around and fills up a frosty stein with one of the beers they have on tap. She squeezes a lime wedge in it and slides it over to him. Josh takes a sip and smiles.]

Josh: This is great. Thank you.

Bartender: [smiling] Good. Let me know if there’s anything else I can get you.

[She gets Hartmann and Brenton their drinks and moves away down the bar to a group of women trying to get her attention.]

Hartmann: [elbowing Josh in excitement] Hey, that wasn’t bad!

Josh: Really?

Hartmann: Well, for a beginner it was pretty good anyway, right Brent?

Brenton: I would congratulate you, but isn’t that a little dangerous?

[The grin drops off Hartmann’s face and he looks concerned. Josh takes another sip of his beer before answering.]

Josh: [trying to be nonchalant] No. We’re not… exclusive. She doesn’t care what I do and she’s allowed to do whatever she wants.

[They all contemplate this in silence for a while and sip their drinks.]

Brenton: Nice that she’s letting you off the leash, I guess.

Hartmann: Yeaaah, I suppose fuck-buddies is good work if you can get it.

[Josh clearly does not feel intoxicated enough to be having this conversation because he takes a very large swig of his beer.]

Hartmann: It doesn’t bother you though, does it?

Josh: [shrugs] I figure it’s better to keep things casual with her, cuz, you know.

[The other two nod in agreement, though they are still a little perplexed by the situation.]

Hartmann: Well, if you’re sure, then maybe we should give you a few pointers. A little flirting 101, if you will.

Brenton: Couldn’t hurt.

Josh: Okay.

Hartmann: Let’s start with the pass you made at the barmaid.

Brenton: It was good in that you didn’t offend her.

Hartmann: Agreed, but you also didn’t come on quite strong enough. What you said could definitely be viewed as flirtatious, but you also could have just been being nice. You don’t want that. It’s confusing.

Brenton: What he means is: you need to focus on your goal. Obviously you want her to like you, but she has to notice you first.

Hartmann: [taking Josh by the shoulders] Exactly. And sometimes being nice isn’t the best way to achieve that. What you need to do is—

Zinnia: Don’t listen to these chumps. [Hartmann and Brenton start at her sudden appearance beside them at the bar. She smirks at this reaction.] Let an old pro show you how it’s done.

Brenton: And what exactly do you know about picking up women?

Zinnia: [She takes a sip of her drink.] Well, Brenton, a hell of a lot more than you. That’s for sure.

Hartmann: [glowering around Josh’s head at her] If you’re so good, how about a little demonstration?

Zinnia: A challenge, eh? Very well. Take notes boys.

[She knocks back the rest of her drink and heads for a small group of women across the room. They watch as she introduces herself and asks one of them to dance. Zinnia gets her partner moving and grinding and laughing without any trouble at all. The three stooges just watch with various expressions of amazement (although in Hartmann and Brenton’s case, it is mixed with irritation and disbelief) as the women dance and flirt and have a good time. After a few songs, Zinnia leans in and says something in the other woman’s ear. She hands Zinnia a piece of paper which she accepts and gives the woman a kiss on the neck.]

Hartmann: Wait, I thought she liked guys?

Josh: Well obviously she’s bi.

Hartmann: Ohhhhh.

[Zinnia saunters back over to them while the woman practically skips back to her own group, looking thrilled. Zinnia leans back on the bar, exuding confidence and flashes the paper at them, which clearly has the woman’s name and number on it.]

Hartmann: How did you do that?

Brenton: Okay, okay. You’re the queen.

Zinnia: Correct.

Hartmann: No seriously, how did you do that?

Zinnia: [She turns to face them and rests one elbow on the bar as she leans in conspiratorially] Well, first off, I like to treat women like people.

#pokemon #Nuzlocke #oras #running hot nuzlocke #bonus scenes #Josh #Zinnia #Hartmann #Brenton

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