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marvelsmylife · 3 years

Text

About fucking time

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Plot: the reader is the quiet agent Steve’s had his eye on since she joined the team. He’s always wanted to ask her out but hasn’t because his nerves get the best of him. During Valentine’s Day party hosted by Tony Steve notices the reader standing by the bar. With the encouragement from both Bucky and Natasha steve finally makes his move.

Steve Rogers was unlucky when it came to love. The first girl he was really interested in pursuing a relationship with was Peggy Carter. She was a prominent agent of the SSR and Steve was in love her the minute he saw her. Sadly before anything could happen between them steve sacrificed himself by flying the plane that had an infinity stone into the ocean.

Then there was Sharon Carter, she was the first girl he was interested since he was out of the ice. Of course, when they originally met she went by the name Kate, a nurse who lived next door to him. They would playfully flirt with each other but Steve never made a move because he was still hung up on Peggy. It took a late chat with Natasha for him to actually entertain the thought to ask “Kate” out on a date.

Unfortunately for him, that was the night an injured fury was in his apartment. Right after fury got shot Steve was surprised when “Kate” barged into his apartment revealed she was actually a Sharon Carter, a shield agent assigned to keep an eye on him. Steve felt so betrayed that she lied to him that he decided to not only not pursue a relationship with her but stopped talking to her altogether.

That changed Steve was face to face with Sharon at Peggy’s funeral. He saw it as a sign that he should pursue a relationship with her. He knew it was messed up to think that at his first loves funeral but he remembered Peggy told him to not wait until it was too late.

Steve thought he was finally going to get the girl after he shared a kiss, Sharon. His heart broke when she revealed that she was engaged to a man named Henry and the kiss they shared was more of a closure kiss. Since that day Steve swore he was destined to be alone, that was until you came along.

When you joined the team Steve and Tony had just made up and the entire team was on good terms. You were hired by tony to help design new weapons for the team. You were a quiet person who only spoke when you were spoken to. The only person who was able to pull a conversation out of you was Natasha and that was because she was persistent. She was determined to be your best friend and after six months she succeeded.

The only problem Steve had with the friendship was that Natasha kept setting you up on dates knowing that he had a crush on you. He knew she was doing it to get a rise out of him and give him push to ask you out but he never did. “So what are you going to wear to the party tonight? Do you want me to get you a date for the party?” Steve felt his heart slightly break when he overheard you and Natasha talking.

Steve knew the day Tony announced he was throwing Valentine’s Day party Natasha was going to try to get you a date for the party “I don’t know what I’m going to wear and no nat I don’t want you to find me a date for the party. All of the guys you’ve set me up with have been sleazy.”

“Ok, what if I find you a man to sleep with? You gotta have sex with someone on Valentine’s Day” Natasha looked directly at Steve as she asked.

That caused you to roll your eyes and responded: “You know I don’t do one night stands”. A small smile appeared on Steve’s face at your answer. He loved that you weren’t loose like the other woman in this era. You actually respected yourself and didn’t feel the need to sleep around.

Natasha was about to respond to your comment when tony waltzed into the room with pepper by his side “ladies and gentlemen, remember that tonight’s party is mandatory. I will have Friday inform me if one of you guys doesn’t show up. Oh and capsical please don’t stand in the corner like you do at every party.” Tony pointed to Steve and caused everyone, including yourself to look over at him.

There was a scowl on Steve’s face because of Tony’s comment and earned a few chuckles from everyone in the room except for you. You just sent him a sympathetic smile before you got up and walked out of the room. Natasha followed you but just as she was about to pass Steve she whispered into his ear “I’m going to make sure she’s dolled up for this party so you better compliment her when you see her at the party” before she left.

The party was in full swing by seven and as expected Steve was in the corner watching everyone partying and having a great time. There were dozens of women who approach him and asked for a dance but he kindly declined. He explained that he was waiting for you before he’d look away from them and started to search for you in the sea of people.

When he did finally find you, you were standing at the bar and holding a can of sprite. He thought you looked gorgeous with you flawless makeup that matched you modest purple dressed that hit you at your knee. A frowned when he noticed a guy walking up to you and started whispering something in your ear. That frown quickly turned into a smile when he noticed the man's head lowered and walked away from you. “I suggest you go talk to her before another guy tries to talk to her again or one of Tony’s female friends tries to talk to you.” Steve heard Bucky’s voice behind him. Steve didn’t pay attention to him due to the fact that he was still staring at you. It wasn’t until he heard “Hurry, one of them is coming this way” that he began to panic. Looking over to his left he spotted a brunette with an orange tan and a dress that is too short walking over to him.

“Don’t worry grandpa, I got her” Steve heard Pietro's voice. Patting Steve’s shoulder lightly Pietro walked over to the girl with the bad tan and all of her friends. After a few minutes, Pietro turned and gave him a thumbs up before left the party with six girls he was talking to.

“Now’s your chance, go talk to her.” Bucky shoved steve in your direction and earned a glare from him.

Taking a deep breath Steve walked over to you and shouted “hey y/n” over the music.

“Oh hey Steve ! ! ! !” you gave Steve a side hug before you looked over at Natasha and raised your empty can “can you please give me another one?”

“Sure thing sweetie” Natasha took your empty soda can and replace it with a new one.

Steve had an amused look on his face as he watched you open the soda and took a sip “Sprite?” Steve pointed to the can of sprite you were holding.

“Yeah. I don’t like the taste of alcohol.” You gave him a small smile. There was a long period of silence after you answered Steve’s question. It was mostly because you were waiting for Steve to speak again but he never did so you turned away from him and stared at the people dancing.

Natasha wanted to shoot Steve for what just happened because she noticed you were waiting for him to continue the conversation. She thought Steve blew his chance until she heard a slow song playing so she motioned for Steve to go to the other side of the bar before grabbed Steve by the collar and whispered: “ask her to dance before I kick your ass” into Steve’s ear.

Knowing she would actually do it Steve walked over to you and tapped on your shoulder. “Would you like to dance!” Steve's voice cracked when he asked.

“I don’t know. I’m not really a good dancer” you got nervous at his invitation.

“Neither am I but I’m sure we can fake it out there.” Steve gave you a lopsided smile that caused your heart rate to increase.

“Ok” you responded. Abandoning your drink and took his hand as you followed him to the center of the dance floor “I apologize in advance if I step on your feet” you apologized in advice while you placed one of your hand on her shoulder and the other intertwined with his.

Steve held you close and whispered, “it’s ok if anything I’m sorry in advance if I step on YOUR shoes.”

Surprisingly neither one of you stepped on each other’s toes. You felt like you were gliding on the dance floor as Steve spun you around and occasionally dipped you which earned some glares from the females in the room. The women watched with envy as Steve held you close to him and danced along to very cheesy slow songs. They wanted to cut in but every time they tried a member of the team would step in before they got close. They all knew about Steve’s crush on you and they’d be damned if a girl in a cheap dress would try to ruin this moment for him.

After a few slow songs, the music changed to a really raunchy song that caused you and Steve to scrunch up your faces in disgust “do you want to ditch this party and go up to my floor? I have two tubs of ice cream and a packet of Oreos.”

“Yes please ! ! !” Steve grabbed your hand and ran towards the elevator. From the corner of his eye, Steve spotted tony smiling and raising his glass.

Once you guys got up to your floor you told Steve to wait for you while you got the junk food from your kitchen. When you entered your room you spotted Steve laying on your bed with his shoes off. Placing the junk food on the bed you walked over to your DVD collection and searched for a movie to watch. You let out a yay when you found ‘perks of being a wallflower’ and popped it into the DVD player. “Perks of being a wallflower is one of my favorite movies of all time. I hope you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will” Steve replied and got one of the tubs of ice cream before you pressed play on the movie.

Three hours after ditching the party you and Steve were laughing hysterically. The movie you put on was long forgotten as Steve told you about the shenanigans he got up to with Bucky when he was in the 1940’s. Steve felt totally at ease sitting next to you and having a full-blown conversation with you. “I can't believe I‘ve so scared to talk to you.” Steve rested his arm on your shoulder.

“What you mean? Do I come off mean or something?” You gave Steve a confused look.

Steve replayed what he said in his head and he immediately started to apologize “no no no I’m sorry that’s not what I meant to say. What I meant to say was that seeing you don’t talk a lot when we’re outside of the workplace and I was scared that if I went up to you wouldn’t want to talk to me.”

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way” you apologized “when was little I was told by my parents that I needed to stop talking because I got on people's nerves. At first, I ignored them because I thought they were having a bad day but then I overheard some girls from my class say they couldn’t stand me because I talked too much. From then until I started working here I just kept quiet and only spoke when someone would ask me a question.” A wave of sadness washed over Steve as you continued to talk “when joined the team I had every intention to continue being quiet so I wouldn’t annoyed you guys but Natasha being Natasha was very admitted on befriending me.” Steve suppressed a laugh because that sounded exactly like Natasha. “As our friendship grew I told her about why I was always quiet she got upset. She promised she wasn’t going push me to talk to the team outside of work hours but she was going to help build the confidence that I lost when I was a kid.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you as Steve started to think of what to say. That’s when he decided it was time for him to reveal his feelings for you “you are amazing. What you do for the team is amazing and if you would allow me to be your boyfriend I’ll spend every day telling you how amazing you are.”

“Are you being serious? You’re not just asking me out because you feel bad?” you bit your lower lip.

“Of course I’m being serious, why wouldn’t I be serious?” Steve reached over and touched your jaw.

Avoiding eye contact with him you responded: “because there are girls that are ten times prettier than me.” Steve couldn’t help but feel sad because you thought you weren’t pretty enough for him.

“You might not think it but I think you are the most gorgeous gal in the world and I would be honored to call you my girlfriend.” Steve moved his hand from your jaw to the back of your head.

There was tension in the room as you stared into each other’s eyes for several seconds before Steve leaned in and kissed you. It was a slow but meaningful kiss, a kiss you would remember for the rest of your life. But just as the kiss started to get heated you felt your dress getting wet “Fuck”. When you looked down you noticed the melted ice cream in your tub spilled on the bed. “Let me clean-”

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time, we can clean this up later.” Steve placed the ice cream tubs on the nightstand before he leaned in and kissed you again, this time the kiss was twice as passionate.

Meanwhile, at the party, Natasha had Clint take over bar duty so she could search for you in the sea of people. “Have you seen y/n?” Natasha shouted at Bucky who was also looking around the room.

“No. Have you seen Steve?” Bucky shouted back. When Bucky notices Natasha shaking her head no he grabbed Natasha by the hand before they went somewhere quiet “where do you think they disappeared to?”

“Mr. Rogers and ms. Y/l/n are currently up in ms. Y/l/n room.” Friday informed them.

“Hey, Friday do you know if they are having sex in there?” Bucky asked and earned a punch from Natasha.

“Their heart rate is racing but not enough that would suggest they’re having sex,” Friday informed Natasha and Bucky. “My guess is that they are kissing.”

“About fucking time ! ! !” Bucky laughed “you also seem happy about them getting together. Do you want to tell me why?” Bucky asked when he noticed a smile on her face.

“I’m happy my girl is finally going to be happy.” Natasha replied “but if Steve does anything to hurt her I’ll chop his dick off and make him eat it” she threatened and caused Bucky to laugh harder.

#avengers imagines #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers x reader

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thebeautyoffanfics · 3 years

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Hiya! I love your blog! Could I please request a platonic Akane x reader x Aoi where th reader is their best friend and they are a trio (Aoi finding reader to be one of the few people she can be herself with and also being a wingman (wingwoman? Wingperson?) for Akane) and the reader decides to make a raspberry pie for Aoi with Akane since she's been seeming down lately but none of them can't cook and reck everything so they get a mildly amused Aoi to help them despite wanting it to be a surprise

(platonic) akane aoi x gn!reader and x akane

a/n: hello hello!! Love these guys!! I can’t remember the last time i wrote for aoi, so that’s definitely fun!! Thank you so much for requesting, and thank you for the compliment!! <3

warnings:

word count: 1,583

Seeing Aoi feeling down was unusual. When you asked her about it, she told you she wasn’t sure why either. “I’m fine, (Y/N). It’s just one of those weeks, you know?”

Yes, you definitely knew. But, it didn’t make it any better. All you could do was be there for her, and rely on Akane to be the one to make her laugh- he’d be there as well, but his confessions always brought a smile to her face. When the smile she usually wore at one of his attempts was blatantly empty, Akane approached you as well.

“She’s feeling really out of it,” He sighed, looking at the school’s beauty from across the room. She was watering the plants, eyes slightly downcast, though she “cheered up” when someone took notice of her. No matter her smile and raised eyebrows, for you and Akane, it was easy to see through. All you could do was nod. He didn’t need to point it out- you both were aware. It was just him… noting it. Getting it off his chest?

“Say, Akane, do you have anything to do after school?”

“Technically, I have to do things for the student council. Teru usually takes my work load when I’m ‘not doing it properly’ or ‘getting on his nerves’, which entails simply existing, but- I can get out of duties, if you need me to.”

“I was thinking… Aoi likes sweets, yeah? What if we made her a pie or something? Dropped it by her house after we’re finished?”

Akane raised his eyebrows, nodding in agreement. “That’s actually a good idea. You know how to make pie?”

“Nnnno, but, there’s gotta be a recipe online, or in a cookbook somewhere. While you get your student council stuff done, I can run to the store quickly.”

He nodded again, telling you that it sounded like a plan.

If only that enthusiasm could have influenced the results-

“It can’t be too hard!” You had said, looking at the array of ingredients after washing your hands.

“For Ao-chan, it’ll be a piece of cake.”

“A piece of-”

“Please don’t-”

“Pie.”

Akane rolled his eyes, looking over the recipe. “Anyway, preheat the oven to 425.”

You walked over to the oven, preheating it, then feeling rather proud of yourself. One step down, only so many more to go! Easy-peasy!

Grabbing a pie plate, you reached for the pastry. “I’ll roll out the crust if you’ll work on the filling?”

“Alright… I just put everything in it?”

“Yeah. Measure the stuff and whatnot.”

Akane grabbed the ingredients, putting the necessary amount into a bowl, as you glanced at the recipe.

“Oh, but not the egg or water-”

“...(Y/N), I swear to-”

You tensed as Akane sighed in frustration, walking to the trashcan and pouring the combination of ingredients into it. He rinsed the bowl lightly, before taking the recipe and reading it over once more. After reading it, he began to make the mixture properly, not sparing you a slightly annoyed- though harmless- glance. He mixed, then pushed the bowl your way.

“I mixed, you put it in.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, as you poured the mixture on top of the crust, then wet the outside of the crust lightly. Once that was finished, you reached for the rest of the pastry, setting a knife aside as you rolled it out.

“Are we gonna make it all criss-crossed?” Akane asked, walking over to you, and peering down as you took the knife.

“Yep, as best we- aH ouch, ouch,” You yelped, dropping the knife and bringing your hand to your mouth.

“Oi, don’t put your hand in your mouth- you’ve been touching the dough, wash it off first.”

You grumbled, walking to the sink and wincing as you washed your bleeding finger off. Luckily, it was nothing more than a knick, but it still hurt-

“You got blood in the dough,” Akane groaned, walking over to you and placing the knife and plate in the sink, then tossing the dough. He walked over to the counter, taking an extra thing of dough that he was now glad you bought, and rolling it out. He took it upon himself to slice the bits, telling you to mix the egg and water while he did so.

So, he placed the slices over the pie, and you lightly applied the egg-water mixture, smiling as he crimped the edges. You sprinkled a small amount of sugar over the top, then placed your hands on your hips proudly. Akane shoved the pie in your direction, then motioned to the oven.

“Cook for 15 minutes, then, once that’s over, we’ll lower the heat and cook it a little longer.”

“50? Isn’t that a little long?”

“15? Not really, no, not unless you have a plane to catch.”

You shrugged, placing the pie in the oven, then setting the time for 50 minutes. All that was left to do was wait.

You walked back over to Akane, then took a seat on the floor. He looked down at you, then followed your actions. “You think Ao-chan will like it?” He asked after a moment, causing you to shrug once more.

“I think so. Heartfelt things are supposed to mean more, right? Nothing gets more heartfelt than a homemade pie. Though store bought would have been easier, the trial and error just makes it better. At least, that’s what I hope-”

“That’s true. You’ve got the cut to prove it.”

“Shut it, four-eyes.”

Akane laughed, as the conversation continued lightly. Mainly talking about Aoi, drifting to how you hoped she’d feel better, drifting to how the pie smell was starting to get strong.

“I told you, Akane, I feel like 50 minutes is a little too long.”

“...HOW MUCH-”

“50?? Did you not say 50???”

“50? Five-zero?”

“Yes???”

“I SAID 15- ONE-FIVE, FREAKING-”

You both jumped up, running to the oven. You turned it off, while Akane grabbed the oven mitts, opening the oven and grabbing the pie. The brown, slightly smoking pie. The burn smell filled the room, but… at least it still smelled somewhat like raspberries…?

“(Y/N), we’re friends- but more importantly, you’re one of Ao-chan’s best friends- so I won’t say what I’m thinking. But I do want you to know, I have a few choice words that I’m keeping to myself.”

“Maybe you should enunciate-?! You’re top of the class, and for what???”

“Okay, first of all-”

“(Y/N)? Akane?”

“Ao-chan..” Akane muttered, in sync with your, ”Aoi...”

The purple-haired girl sniffed lightly, before her eyes landed on the pie resting in front of the two of you. Her expression was pure curiosity, practically asking the both of you “what’s going on?”

“Ah… Akane and I were just trying to… make a pie…”

“What for? You guys know I can cook, I would have helped.”

“Well- it was supposed to be for you, Ao-chan. We ran into… some misunderstandings though.”

Aoi’s surprised expression melted into genuine joy, which quickly melted into sweet laughter. You saw Akane’s face flush slightly from the corner of your eyes, and you couldn’t blame him- even platonically, her laugh really was purely… music. She was laughing at the two of you, you both knew that- but, the two of you made her laugh. For the first time that week, she was smiling, laughing. She was happy. You and Akane exchanged victorious glances, fist bumping underneath the counter.

“Ah, it can’t be helped then. (Y/N), Akane, are there extra ingredients?”

You nodded, grabbing the extra things of dough from a grocery bag, then motioning at the already-out ingredients.

“Great! Akane, preheat the oven please? 425 for now.”

Akane nodded, walking over to the oven and preheating it. While he did that, Aoi handed you the dough, and took over the ingredients for the filling. “Roll that out, please, (Y/N). I’ll take the filling- but, Akane, I’ll trust you to roll out the second thing of dough. I can cut it and apply it to the pie,” She ordered, placing the necessary ingredients into the bowl. The way she went about things was neat, showing off her perfectionist tendencies. Compared to the mess you and Akane had created earlier… she really was a diamond in the rough.

---

Time had passed, the pie finished and cooled off, though the sun was nearly gone. Aoi cut the pie, offering the both of you a slice, then taking one for herself. Cheerily, she took a bite, as you and Akane followed suit.

The sweet smell filled the room, so much nicer than the burning smell created earlier. The taste was just as lovely- accompanied with Aoi’s smiles, everything in the world suddenly felt right again.

“Even if it didn’t go as you two planned, I am really grateful for you both. I know the two of you wanted to try and cheer me up… I think this was a really sweet way of going about it. And, to be completely honest, I am feeling better.”

“Ao-chan… I love you so much…!”

“Hmm… 5 points! 3 bonuses for the pie.”

Akane sighed lightheartedly, taking another bite from the pie.

“Aoi, I love you so much,” You spoke, placing a hand on your chest and smiling at the girl. “Platonically, of course-”

“I love you too, (Y/N),” Aoi smiled, closing her eyes cutely.

“(Y/N), those choice words from earlier really are seeming very nice to share with you-”

#anon #request #platonic #platonic x reader #gn!reader #x gn!reader #tbhk #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #aoi akane #akane aoi #tbhk x reader #jshk x reader #toilet bound hanako kun x reader #jibaku shounen hanako kun x reader #aoi akane x reader #akane aoi x reader

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nasaty · 3 years

Text

Noctilucence

Student Aizawa x (she/her) student reader, so much angssssttt and grief and a bunch of fluff. (Do not bring any pedo shit into my presence or I will fucking destroy you

MANGA SPOILERS until episode 107 comes out. - also this requires context that I am not providing from MHA manga and the arc with Aizawa in Vigilantes. TW: death. 9 part series.

Ch. 1 here | Ch. 4 here | Ch. 6 here

Ch. 5 the Mourning

As you got ready for school, usually a mundane task that took no effort, it required a lot more thought today.

‘How. How am I going to do this. How can I get through today. I can’t even get out of bed. I can’t stop crying. I don’t know what I’m going to do. What do I do. How is this real. How am I going to survive this. How.’

It had been two weeks since Oboro’s passing.

The school had allowed Oboro’s close friends to take some time off for mourning, and had hired counselors on staff for the students at school. They held a vigil last week. You decided you couldn’t go. You couldn’t stand to see them, to experience this, to make it real. You’ve been crumpled up in bed for almost two weeks straight, and had to return today.

‘How is this possible.’

Despite being a hero school, this was nowhere near a common occurrence. Not only were the students the top of the generation of new heros, they had pro heros backing them up at every step. The school never let the kids into any REAL dangerous situations knowingly. They didn’t KNOW this was going to be dangerous. You heard that Purple Highness and all of his sidekicks got knocked out by one of those villains. All Mights agency took care of most of the rest, (all might was not even in the country at the time, but he had many apprentices and sidekicks to do the job.) and they thought since Purple’s agency was well known and well maintained, they would have no problem. But this villain was different, much more powerful than the others the work studies encountered. And it killed Oboro.

You had to go to school today. Your time of ‘mourning’ was over. As if it could ever be over. The images of the helicopters coming in to assess the damage, the rubble, Hizashi and Aizawa with the medics, they all replayed, rushed through your head over and over, dizzying you. You hadn’t eaten in days, hadn’t slept since that horrible day. You could barely think and had to go back to school and try to experience life again.

None of your friends had reached out to you other than Hizashi that night. You didn’t take it personally, everyone was absolutely broken, you didn’t need to talk to them to know that. The CATfé chat was silent for the first time, and was for two weeks straight.

You dragged yourself out of bed, passed the counter where your parents had left a note with some pastries, ‘hope you feel better soon, we love you’ they wrote. As you took the note in your pocket for support, tears stinging your eyes, you made your way out the door.

You made your way through your classes in a daze, lazily taking down sorry excuses for notes and living through nightmares during the day. Your deskmate leaned over and whispered ‘are you okay?’ And you realized you were lost in thought.

You found yourself atop the steps to the roof during lunch hour. You stood there, swallowed the lump in your throat and took a shaky breath.

When you opened the door you were surprised to see Aizawa, more disheveled than usual, sitting on the bench with head in his hands and elbows on his knees. You thought he couldn’t hear your footsteps as you approached. He could.

Since you hadn’t seen or heard from any of your friends in what felt like a lifetime, you slowly and softly made your way over to the bench, and sat as far away from him as possible, to give him space. You could barely tell, but by hearing his breathing, you knew he noticed you were there.

The silence was deafening. You wanted to scream. Your heart hurt so much, and you couldn’t stand it, but on the outside you just sat completely still and stared into space for an unknowable amount of time.

Music started playing quietly, indicating that there was about 5 minutes left to lunch. Neither of you had eaten or said a word. You debated saying anything but couldn’t choke anything out. You both walked back to your classes in silence together. The rest of the day was a blur.

You went home, kicked off your shoes, and sat on the couch for some studying. Your house was always cold, so you brought over a blanket to snuggle in, and had some quiet music playing to distract you. You felt horrific.

Your stomach churning, you pulled out that note from your parents from this morning, made your way to the kitchen and ate a couple bites of a pastry. Even though they were your favorite, it tasted like despair somehow.

The next few weeks felt the same. You barely made it to school, sat in silence with Aizawa at lunch while he always left halfway through lunch to go do more training. Then you went home, tried to eat and ended up just sleeping. You exchanged a few supportive texts with Hizashi and Nemuri, both saying that they were here for you as you were there for them. After a while, you could force yourself to down something bland like some crackers or toast at lunch. You noticed Aizawa starting to eat in small amounts as well, though still leaving about halfway through lunch to go train more. It was obvious he was overworking himself.

One day, you had made chocolate covered strawberries the night before, (you liked to stress bake, but could hardly eat it,) so you brought a few to school with your lunch as it seemed tolerable at that point. You had noticed that for weeks, all Aizawa had been eating was chicken and rice, and hardly any of it. Your meals changed every day, though they were also bland, but you thought he might need a change.

You scooted slightly towards him, just enough so that you could nudge him gently with your elbow. He made the most quiet sound you’ve ever heard to reply, it sounded like it could’ve been all in your head. You point with your chopsticks at one of the strawberries. He turns his head slightly, still with his head in his hands like it had been for weeks as he had not looked up at you once this whole time. He turned back to his food, and you leaned in and placed a strawberry on his plate. What seemed like an impossibly faint smile appeared on his face and was gone in a flash. You ate your strawberries in silence together.

The next day, you came to lunch and sat with him as usual. Earlier that morning you had decided you were going to speak to him today, just a little, so you’d give him any support you could manage. Maybe that would help you feel less empty too.

“…um,’ you squeak out as quietly as possible, trying to not startle him. He didn’t flinch. His reaction (or lack there of) reminded you that he was a stealth hero and he most likely knew you were going to talk before you even did, just from your breathing.

“I know I don’t know how you feel…I only knew…him… for a short time…but I’m here for you. If you need to scream or cry or…break something, or if you need a hug or to just sit in silence, that’s what I’m here for.”

A minute or so go by with no reply.

“…silence is comforting…for me…”

You hummed in agreement and went back to your regular routine of sitting and eating quietly, in solidarity, but this time it felt a little lighter.

At the end of the lunch hour, he stood up as usual, but breathed a quiet ‘thank you’ in your direction as he walked away.

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tooruluv · 3 years

Text

Kei Tsukishima x F!Reader ( part 7 ) [ final ]

❝ they were the sun and moon, destined to be together but only ever totally meeting once every hundred years or so. ❞

description: in a world where you only see color when you're in love, you've grown frustrated of the greyscale. but falling in love with someone you barely know was never something you planned. and, him not returning the feelings definitely wasn’t planned.

genre: soulmate au... except not quite. everyone is born colorblind. you can only see color once you fall in love (and it grows brighter until you see full color as the love grows). however, that doesn't ensure a lasting connection. it simply means that love exists in that moment, until it doesn't.

word count: 1,879

warnings/notes: that’s all folks!! thank you all for reading and leaving feedback on this one <3 it was my first time writing a soulmate au so i hope it was okay for the most part fsjklhalfkh anyway! enjoy and please leave feedback <3

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“ if you could only see how blue her eyes could be.. ” - if you could only see, tonic

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You decided to keep your distance. You couldn’t be his friend when your heart continued to be shattered at a measly “no”.

As he walked you home in silence that night, you considered a thousand different ways to get rid of the colors. To get rid of the love you had for him.

It was incredibly toxic, you thought, to continue to be friends with a boy your heart pined for.

You still volunteered with the Karasuno team. It was a bit strange, though, because you would do your best to either stay behind with Hinata and Kageyama, or you would leave with Ukai. Anything to get you out of walking with Tsukki and Yamaguchi.

Hinata was the first one to notice that things weren’t the same (always the observant one).

“Did something happen with you and Tsukki?” He asked you after practice as the both of you cleaned up the last of the volleyballs.

“I can see color, and he can’t.” You confided.

“We knew that.”

You chuckled, considering if you should tell him. In the end, you figured “what’s the harm?”, so you said, “We kissed. And even after that, he still couldn’t see color.”

He audibly gasped. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”

“It is not your place to be sorry.” You fluffed his hair. “Are you all done for the night?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Staying away from Tsukishima was harder than you anticipated.

He was in your class, he had lunch the same time, he was on the team you voluntarily helped with. Everywhere you went, he seemed to be there.

“Do you really think the colors will finally go away?” Haru asked you.

You three were sitting at a picnic table at lunch. It had been almost a week of avoiding the boy and the colors were still as vibrant as ever. You figured falling out of love would be harder than falling into it.

“I hope so.”

At the same time, Tsukki and Yamaguchi walked by. They both looked your direction, and you only exchanged a small look with Yamaguchi.

“They miss you.”

“I know.” You returned to your food, no longer hungry. “I miss them, too.”

One day at Blu, Tsukishima had come in with only sweatpants and a hoodie on. He seemingly just woke up and rushed out without thinking much of it.

You thought he looked handsome no matter his attire.

“What can I get for you today, Kei?” You asked in your usual customer service voice.

He didn’t glance at you as he ordered his usual black coffee.

You were about to punch it into the register when he added, “And a blueberry muffin.”

“I heard that blueberry muffins are actually purple.” You offered as conversation. Not that you knew what either of the colors looked like.

“That’s stupid.” was his reply.

After a month of avoiding the boy, you were growing frustrated. The colors hadn’t even dimmed, let alone left. They were still bright and loud.

It was like a taunt every time you woke up.

You shoved an (obnoxious) bright yellow shirt on as you cleaned your room. It was an old softball practice shirt that you found in the bottom of your drawer. You had no idea back then how incredibly bright a lot of your clothes were. Why did your mother let you leave the house?

It was a weekend, and you figured that cleaning your space would also help in clearing your mind. Putting on the shirt was your way of saying “fuck you” to the colors.

As you blasted music, a knock on your door interrupted.

“What did you do to her?” Yamaguchi asked Tsukishima the day after the kiss.

“What do you mean?”

“You did something to her.” He crossed his arms. “What did you do? She won’t talk to either of us, like I have some part of whatever fucked up shit you did.”

“I…” Tsukishima pushed up his glasses. “I kissed her. Well. We kissed.”

Yamaguchi nodded, thoughts processing. “Then you rejected her again right after, didn’t you?”

“Am I supposed to lie?”

“Yes.” He shrugged. “But you’ve been doing that a lot, huh?”

The knocking on your door persisted, and you eventually gave in and answered.

With a hard swing of the door, you sighed, very irritated, “What?”

Kei Tsukishima stood in front of you, hand still above your head in an attempt to knock again. His eyes made contact with yours. Those golden fucking eyes.

“You’re avoiding me.”

“No shit.”

“Why?”

“Why?” You scoffed incredulously. “You’re kidding, right? Why am I avoiding you?”

“Yeah.” Tsukki seemed sincerely confused as he shoved his hands back into his pockets. “What did I do?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. You shook your head, looking away from his eyes.

He said, “It isn’t like I’ve lied to you.”

“That’s true. You’ve been brutally honest.”

“Then.. why are you avoiding me?” Tsukki tried to catch your eyes again.

“Because every second with you hurts, Tsukki.” Your frustration echoed in your voice. “Every second that I spend with you is a painful reminder that you don’t and won’t feel the same way about me that I feel for you. And you constantly remind me of that little detail.”

Without a moment of hesitation he said, “Telling you that I don’t love you back should help you. I don’t see what your issue is.”

“You don’t see what my issue is?” You put your hand back on the doorknob. “How’s this: my issue is you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m done, Tsukki.” You met his gaze. “I’m done. I tried to be your friend, I tried to get rid of the stupid colors. But everything I do only makes them worse. And you consistently telling me that you don’t see the same that I do and always being an avid reminder that you don’t love me back… it sucks. And I can’t do it anymore. It’s draining.”

“So you’re going to… what exactly?” His voice got louder. Angrier. “Just forget that I exist and never talk to me, or Yamaguchi, or the team again?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, clearly still pissed off. “That’s the plan.”

You were pissed that he came to your house a month after you stopped talking to him. You were pissed that all of this started with your stupid part time job. You were pissed that he was standing in front of you looking fine as hell. You were pissed that you still saw colors with every waking moment.

You were pissed that you fell into an unrequited love.

“You can’t just…”

“But I can.”

“No, you can’t!” His voice got louder. You could raise your voice, too.

“Yes, I fucking can, Kei.” You told him. “You don’t know how many times that I’ve tried to get rid of these stupid fucking colors. I’m so over looking like an idiot because of the one person who…”

“Can you shut the fuck up for just a second, I can’t even pay attention to what you’re saying with that bright ass yellow shirt you have on.” Tsukki interrupted, grimacing as he looked away.

The entire world froze around you. He seemed to figure out what he said far too late, closing his eyes. Your heart seized in your chest and you felt as though you just got the wind knocked out of you.

“Wh.. what did you just say?” Your eye twitched.

“Hm?” Tsukki turned to you, pretending to be oblivious.

“What did you just say, Tsukki?” You felt tears arriving, but you were forcing yourself to stare at him. “How long have you… How long have you been able to see color?”

“Since I ordered my first black coffee.” He stated. As if it was nothing.

As if it didn’t matter.

“You…” You let the tears free fall down your cheeks. But you laughed. “You could see color this entire time?”

“Just listen…”

“No! No.” You took a step back, putting distance between you and the cause of your heartache. “You just claimed to have never lied to me, yet you’ve been lying to me this entire fucking time.”

He started to say something, perhaps explain himself. But you could barely breathe.

If your heart hadn’t been damaged enough by his constant rejections and painful “no”s, it was completely shattered now.

“You let me believe this entire time that you didn’t feel the same way about me.” You could taste your tears, but ignored it. “For nearly a fucking year, you watched me go through hell. You let me ruin my own heart and let me become frustrated with my own fucking life. You kissed me and then told me that you didn’t love me. You…”

“I love you.” He interrupted, trying to get you to stop yelling.

It was the first time he had said it, and it had slipped past his tongue as if he had been meaning to say it for months.

“I guess it’s a bit late for that.”

You watched as the colors drained from the world. Your focus turned back to the greyscale as if a vacuum sucked every single color that had existed.

The last color you watched dissipate was the gold in his eyes.

fin.

tag list: @vhskenma @elianetsantana @mini-eggs-reads @ysasian @hhwanggu @i-stole-your-juice-box @definitelynotbianca @denkithunder @smuttyanimeslut @yourlocalbabybird @theydy-madamonsieur @expiredbananamilk @sunandtsukki @babyoomi @alwaysbeanunknownfan

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hyuniebaby · 3 years

Text

Summer Love

Pairings: Chanyeol x Y/N

Song reference/inspiration: August by Taylor Swift

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

A/N: So I've been listening to Taylor Swift a lot these days and I literally just found out about The Teenage Love Triangle thing in her Folklore album. It gave me inspiration to write this. 😄 It's been a while since I wrote for EXO so here's my first EXO fanfic for 2021! I hope I did Taylor Swift's song justice. Please let me know your thoughts~

You could hear the loud music playing at the club from a block away. You really didn’t plan on going out at all, too tired from your shift at the yogurt shop that you worked part time at. But your friends were insistent.

“God, I need a break,” you messaged your friends, ranting about how work was tiring. If there was one thing you learned about your work, it was that people come flooding in at the shop for frozen yogurt every summer. You couldn’t blame them for it, of course. The heat was unbearable, people would buy anything cold to beat the heat.

“Then let’s go to the club tonight!” Krystal messaged back.

You groaned. You should’ve expected she was going to say that. But the “break” you meant was more of “needing more time to rest” than a “I need a fucking drink.”

You were about to explain to her that you weren’t in the mood to drink but the rest of your friends had already agreed with her. You closed the group chat and massaged your head.

You knew your friends like the back of your hand so you expected them to give you reasons why you should go clubbing with them. Hell, they would probably even make a powerpoint presentation to convince you. And you have to ready yourself for that level of extra, hence, the head massage.

But your friends knew you the same way you knew them so when you didn’t reply after two minutes, they came to the conclusion that you didn’t want to go. You were, after all, the person who always replied instantly — whenever, wherever. Even at work, that’s why they have your schedule so they can avoid messaging you during your shifts.

By the third minute of silence, yes, you counted , a series of messages flooded your phone. As expected, their messages were reasons why you should go to the club with them. One, it was summer so there’s no school work to catch up on. Two, you don’t have work the next day so there’s no need to worry about getting a hangover. Three, alcohol, that’s enough explanation.

You snorted at that.

They listed plenty more reasons but the one that convinced you was that you haven’t seen them in a while since summer break started. So without reading more of their reasons, you replied with a simple, “Ugh, fine.”

When you entered the club, you immediately scanned the area to look for your group of friends. But instead of finding them, your breath hitched as your eyes locked with someone else. He was tall and gorgeous. And hot. Yeah, definitely hot. You shamelessly ogle at his form. From his silver locks to the chain necklaces he was adorned with to the thin white sleeveless shirt he was wearing that was tucked in his denim pants. It was like he wasn’t even trying with his style yet he looked tempting.

And if there’s one known fact about you, it was that you lacked self control.

If you knew you’d find a guy like him that night, you would’ve worn the short black dress you owned or your favorite red satin dress, instead of the gold mini dress you were wearing.

There was nothing really wrong about the dress you’re wearing. It fits you like a glove and it shows a generous amount of skin, but it screams sophistication and elegance. Something that was the opposite of you, but you liked to play pretend sometimes.

But still, red and black were the sexiest colors. Both sexually alluring — arousing, even. And those were what you needed him to see, to feel.

By the time you had shifted your eyes to look back up his handsome face, you saw that his eyes were still traveling over your body.

Okay, maybe gold was fine.

Before anything else could happen, however, Krystal, Lia, and Rose had tackled you in a hug. You wanted to roll your eyes at them. Talk about perfect timing. They started chattering off about how they missed you, oblivious to your encounter with the man.

Before they could whisk you off to the table they claimed, you stole another glance at the hot stranger. His eyes were still on you and you couldn’t stop the small smirk that crept into your face.

Your friends shared stories about what happened to them since summer break started, meanwhile you ranted about your work and how hectic it had been. As the conversation continued, alcohol came and went. Overall, it was fun hanging out with your over-the-top friends.

Every now and then you look at the hot stranger. You were tempted to just get up and go directly to him and just kiss him but not now when he was finally graced with the presence of his friend. Not now when your friends were still there with you.

Not yet.

When your friends got borderline drunk, they stood up and went to the dance floor. You knew then that they weren’t going to come back.

They were always like that when they got a hold of the liquid courage. By the time they’d dance off, they would find a man to spend the night with and not bother to say goodbye. And then the next thing you’ll know, they’ll be updating you on the group chat about how their night went. That’s what always happens every time you all go out clubbing so you were quite used to it.

You waved them off as they made their way to the dance floor. You downed another drink and found yourself looking over at the location of the hot stranger once again.

You watched as his friend got up and left him when he saw your friends heading to the dance floor. He’s probably interested in one of them. Or all of them. You didn’t know. You didn’t care.

Despite the distance, you could almost hear the sigh of relief your hot stranger released. Yes, you claimed him already. When he lost sight of his friend on the crowded dance floor, he immediately snapped his head to your direction. You smirked as he did so.

You made your way towards him. You could tell he was entranced with your body. The lust was written all over his face.

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted as you sat beside him. Your dress had hitched up and you didn’t bother adjusting it. Why would you when he was eyeing your legs like that? Like he’s one breath away to opening them up.

Once he’s gotten his fill on the sight of your legs, his eyes once again traveled the entirety of your body before settling his eyes on your face.

If only it wasn’t indecent to take him then and there, ugh.

“Chanyeol,” he introduced himself as he placed a kiss on your hand.

You hummed and told him your name, “So Chanyeol, I noticed you looked a little bit bored a while ago,” then you leaned in and whispered to his ear, “don’t you want to do something fun?”

He tilted his head so that his lips touched your neck when he talked and then placed his hand on your thigh, “My place is just around the corner,” was his answer.

He gave your leg a little squeeze before offering his hand to help you stand up.

The next thing you knew, he was fervently kissing you after he shut the door to his room. He tasted like cigarettes but also something sweet that you just can’t name. But the taste doesn’t really matter to you, what matters was how he was using his lips. And, god, was he good at using his lips.

His hands wandered around your body while yours trailed over his toned chest and abs. He grabbed your butt and slammed you to the door, bringing his erection closer to your pussy.

You instinctively rubbed against him, moaning at the much needed friction. He brought his lips to your neck and nibbled your sensitive skin.

Then he slipped his hand under your skirt, feeling your damp panties.

“Please Chanyeol,” you moaned.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

“Are you sure?”

You huffed but said, “Never have I ever been so sure.”

He moved your panties to the side and slid a finger in you. “You’re so wet, babe,” he said as he pumped his finger in and out of you.

“Chanyeol, hng, more.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He added another finger while you cursed at how good it felt. He was leaving kisses all over your neck, you were pretty sure you’d be painted with reds and purples by the end of the night.

You were in a daze but you weren’t just going to let him do all the work. Your hands quickly went on to undo his belt and his pants. You freed his hard shaft from the offensive garment and gave it a few strokes. Then you spit on your palm and finally gave the attention his cock deserved.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he mewled.

You went back to kissing him after his statement. It was like there was an unspoken agreement between the two of you — both of you wanted to get on the bed — so he carried you there, never once pulling away from the kiss.

As your bum touches his mattress, he immediately strips himself of his clothes while you shimmied out of your dress.

You were able to remove only your dress when he locked his lips with you once again. He laid you down on the bed, his left hand groping your breast.

When he pulled back, he took his time in scanning your body. You bit your lip to prevent a whine from the sudden lack of contact.

“You’re so sexy, babe. I want to fuck you so badly.”

“Then do it, Chanyeol.” You looked up at him.

The sight was something to behold. Chanyeol on top of you, naked — his skin glistening with sweat, and the light makes him look perfect. His muscles were flexing as he breathed. The sight increased your arousal by tenfold.

You rubbed your cunt to his shaft to grab his attention since he was back to ogling your body. The action snapped him out of his trance and he quickly unhooked your bra and removed your panties, throwing them somewhere in the room. He took your right nipple in his mouth and sucked while he squeezed your left boob. On reflex, you arched your back as he gave attention to your breasts. He shifted between your two mounds. You moaned in delight from the sensation.

Once he was satisfied with his work, he abruptly inserted two fingers to your core. You cried at the sudden intrusion. He expertly fingered you. You closed your eyes and relished on the way he was making you feel.

You felt him shift but he didn’t stop the onslaught to your cunt so you paid no attention to this. You released a whimper when all of a sudden he slipped his fingers out of you. You peeked at him, ready to scold him because he pulled out just when you were about to cum. But what greeted you was the view of Chanyeol putting on a condom.

“Sorry babe, I couldn’t wait anymore. I need to be inside you,” he said, not a hint of regret in his tone.

You gulped as you saw his big, veiny cock. “I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he promised.

Then he shoved his dick to your pussy. “You’re so fucking tight.”

You grit your teeth, he was big and you felt so full. He waited a while for you to adjust to his size when he bottomed out.

“Fuck me, Chanyeol,” you begged.

The moment the words slipped out of your mouth, he obliged and pounded into you. His thrusts were so powerful that you couldn’t help but moan and gasp. He shifted a little, the position let him adjust his pace to a much faster one.

Lewd, sinful noises came out of your mouth as he fucked you hard, fulfilling his promise. “Who’s making you feel this good?” He asked cockily.

“Y-you are,” you stuttered.

“Say my name.”

“Cha-Chanyeol. Fuck. You make m-me feel so g-good Chanyeol.”

He was driving you to your climax so fast from his ministrations. You were clenching on his cock the closer you got to your release. His hand found its way to your clit and he rubbed it.

You spasmed as you reached your high. Chanyeol was quick to follow after a few harsh thrusts. After he came, he stood up to throw the used condom and grabbed a wet towel to clean you up. He was so gentle at doing it and you found yourself closing your eyes at how relaxing it was. The tiredness from work and the sex caught up with you. You didn’t even intend to sleep yet, but when you closed your eyes, nothing stopped you from falling asleep.

Chanyeol was nice enough not to kick you out after the sexual encounter. You thank the gods above that you woke up before Chanyeol did, because you knew it would be too awkward if he woke up before you. This was supposed to be a one night stand after all.

You slowly got out of bed, careful not to wake Chanyeol from his slumber. You quickly put on your clothes, well, as fast as your aching body could anyway. You tiptoed out of his room and left.

There wasn’t any need to write a note for him or whatever. Sure, the sex was good, amazing even, but you know nothing about him aside from his name and address. He could be a completely different person when he’s sober, you’ll never really know.

But fate had other plans for the two of you.

It was a week after that event that you saw Chanyeol again. You were driving home, taking in the view of the city. He was walking slowly, seemingly lost in thought, under the streetlights two blocks away from the yogurt shop you worked at.

You debated on whether or not to call him. He looked quite distant and lonely. If you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, you wouldn’t have thought that it was Chanyeol.

This Chanyeol looked the opposite of the Chanyeol you met at the club. There wasn’t any trace of cockiness. Even the smile you saw that he easily gave away to his friend was gone.

As if your body has a mind of its own, you found yourself pulling up and rolling down the window, “Chanyeol!”

He whipped his head to look at you, shocked. It kind of seemed like he saw a ghost. You chuckled.

“Get in, let’s drive!”

Normally, you wouldn’t be doing this. Chanyeol was a stranger after all, but oddly, he did feel familiar.

He looked reluctant but eventually he gave in. The car ride was quiet. You didn’t mind though, you like the silence so you didn’t attempt to break it.

Initially, you didn’t have any destination in mind, you were just driving aimlessly. You thought you were making random turns but then you realized you were going to the quieter parts of the city and into the location you’d always go to when you were feeling blue. It was fitting, Chanyeol did look like a darker shade of blue after all and no, you weren’t talking about his physical appearance.

You stopped your car by the cliff overlooking the city. There, everything looked small and less overwhelming. When you were there, it always made you feel like your problems were trivial things and it calmed you down.

You stepped out of the car, sat on the hood and watched as the sun set. The sun was giving the busy city a golden glow.

After a few minutes, Chanyeol got out of the car as well and sat beside you, taking in the view of the city. For the first time since you picked him up, a genuine smile had made its way into his face.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, never taking his sight away from the beautiful view.

You looked over at him, his features looked like he was relaxed. His blue faded and changed into a warm yellow. He looked better like that.

“Yeah, no problem.”

The both of you stayed there until the sky had turned black and it was the city lights’ turn to shine.

“Come on, Chanyeol, let’s head back.”

“Right.”

You were a block away from Chanyeol’s flat when he spoke up again. “Sorry I took up your time.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t have anything to do anyway,” you said nonchalantly.

By the time you reached his place, you turned to him, “So—”

You didn’t even get to finish whatever you were about to say when he cupped your face and kissed you. You were surprised but you kissed back anyway. And just like the first time you met him, you ended up tangled in his sheets, begging him to fuck you.

The third time you met him it was probably the hottest day of summer. You were in the mall to cool down. You’d rather be there than use the air conditioner in your room and take extra shifts to pay for the electricity.

You were wandering inside the mall, just looking through different shops and avoiding any crowded area in general.

“What are you doing?”

You got startled at the sudden sound.

“Chanyeol? What the fuck, I almost dropped this mug because of you!” You exclaimed.

He chuckled, “Sorry. It’s just that I noticed you looked a little bored.”

Oh, so he was using your lines now. You raised your brow and crossed your arms, waiting for what he’s going to say next. But the action only emphasized your breasts and of course Chanyeol just had to look.

“Don’t you want to do something fun?”

You smirked, “Only if it doesn’t involve sweating.”

“I can work with that.”

And work with that he did. You ended up being bent over under the shower as he fucked you relentlessly.

The only difference with this encounter from the rest was the piece of paper you found in the pocket of your shorts. Scribbled there was his number and a simple “Thank you.”

You didn’t even hesitate to message him as soon as you found it. He replied in an instant and surprisingly, he was pretty decent to talk with. You don’t talk about the nights of passion, but you do talk about yourselves.

For the first time since you met him, he was shedding his layers, and this time, these layers weren’t his clothes.

The next time you met up, it was intentional. One day he called, “Meet me behind the mall.” He didn’t have to ask twice, you’d go regardless.

By the time he arrived, he was riding a motorcycle. He shook his head as he removed his helmet. Then he ruffled his silver hair.

God, he was attractive.

“Hop in, babe,” he said as he hands you another helmet.

You grinned. It was your first time to ride a motorcycle and you couldn’t stop your excitement from showing.

He drove to an abandoned parking lot and for a moment you were confused. “What are we doing here?”

“Don’t you want to do something fun?” He smirked.

Your eyes widened. You definitely didn’t want to do that here.

He only laughed at your reaction. “I’m kidding! I mean, technically, I’m not.”

Your brows had furrowed. “Huh?”

“I’ll teach you how to ride this baby,” he said as he patted his motorcycle, “It’ll be fun.”

You squealed. “Really?”

He rolled his eyes but he had a faint smile, “Yeah.”

Chanyeol was a great teacher, but you liked to tease him so you purposely acted like you couldn’t understand him. You could tell his patience was wearing thin after two hours of him teaching you to no fruition.

“Okay, okay, let me try. Like, alone now,” you said.

He frowned, obviously unimpressed with your statement. Of course, he’d react that way, it was his baby, you just might crash it.

“I promise I’ll do my best,” you pleaded.

“Fine,” he reluctantly said.

“Thank you!”

You grinned at him as you got ready while he only pouted. But the pout had been replaced with a look of surprise when you finally rode and drove his bike.

And by the end of the day, his motorcycle wasn’t the only thing you got to ride.

The next few times you met up, you always ended up beneath him. But there were also days when he’d take you out — to a diner that was barely visited by people, to an arcade somewhere downtown, to the cliff overlooking the city.

Dates with Chanyeol were fun and weren’t overwhelming at all. He never brought you to places with too many crowds. It was intimate, the moments were shared between only the two of you.

It got to a point where you basically spent everyday with him. You would even cancel plans with your friends, just waiting for his call. Before you knew it, you were falling for him.

What sealed your feelings was the time he brought you to their beach house where you both spent the day swimming and chasing each other around.

“I want you,” he said as the night came.

Wanting was enough for you.

By the time you were both panting after the sexual activity, he turned his back to you and looked out the window, his facial expression as calm as the sea. You thought you had him then. You thought he was yours and you were his.

That is until you saw him at a record shop. You were there first, scanning through sections, looking for the 5 Seconds of Summer CD you wanted to purchase for so long. You paid no attention to your surroundings, too busy with your task.

And then you heard Chanyeol’s name being mentioned by a guy. Curiously, you hid behind a shelf and peeked. Chanyeol was there and you unconsciously smiled at the sight of him.

“Chanyeol, dude, be honest, are you seeing Y/N?”

Chanyeol looked confused. “Who’s Y/N?”

Your heart dropped at his answer.

“Don’t act so clueless.”

“I don’t know any Y/N.” He looked genuinely at a loss.

“Inez told me she saw you and Y/N at the arcade a couple of weeks ago. Did you even break up with your girlfriend?”

Your vision was already blurry when he said he didn’t know you but you tensed up at his friend’s question.

Chanyeol has a girlfriend?

You didn’t bother staying there to listen in to their conversation anymore. Your tears had already started falling so you quickly rushed out of the shop, keeping your head down low.

There were a lot of thoughts running through your mind.

“Chanyeol didn’t know my name… Is that why he only called me babe or kitten?”

“Chanyeol has a girlfriend and he cheated on her with me.”

“Was his girlfriend the reason why he only brought you out to secluded areas? Meeting only behind the mall? Driving to the quieter parts of the city to hang out?”

You were so frustrated at him and at yourself. You let him charm you. You let him worm his way into your heart. You let him make you fall in love.

So much for summer love.

#chanyeol x reader #chanyeol x you #chanyeol smut #chanyeol angst #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol fanfiction #exo smut #exo angst #exo fluff #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #park chanyeol #exo chanyeol

206 notes · View notes

bellafarallones2 · 3 years

Note

From the meet uglies prompt list:

84. I’m not entirely sure who you are but we’ve been in a massive prank war ever since your first prank on your friend went awry and I was covered in paint

For JakeHollis, please? Sfw or nsfw! This screams them to me!

JakeHollis, SFW, very light angst, some absolutely weird vibes! QueerElfClub's Hollis cosplay is my headcanon for them always and forever

All told, Jake’s first day at Kepler High hadn’t been too bad. Barclay and Dani had told him roughly what to expect, including a rapid rundown of the Earth history he’d be looked at strangely for not knowing. So far, math was his favorite class, because it was the same as on Silvain. Mama had gotten him into something called AP BC Calculus, which seemed like far too many acronyms for a class about shapes. His next most favorite class was PE.

Now it was almost three, and the final bell had rung. Packing up his backpack had taken so much time that the hallways were mostly empty, and he wandered idly, looking for the exit. Barclay was supposed to be picking him up somewhere called the “kiss and ride,” though Jake had been assured kissing was not mandatory. No signs pointed the way, and Jake knew better than to ask someone for directions. Teenagers were the same everywhere.

He found himself in a wing of the school none of his classes had been in, passing rooms labeled ORCHESTRA and BAND and COLOR GUARD EQUIPMENT STORAGE. The sound of music came through the walls.

Finally, though - miracle of miracles! - he saw the light of day, and hurried towards the door it was coming from. The door was even cracked open, and Jake pushed it open the rest of the way and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Something hit his head.

Something that made a klang noise against his skull, and he thought for a moment his head had cracked - he didn’t know how fragile these disguises were - but no, there was something else dripping through his hair and down his face and down all over his new colorful jacket. He looked down. It was white and foul-smelling, and when he blinked his eyelashes clumped and stuck together.

Jake was fairly certain neither Dani nor Barclay had mentioned this. He could barely see, just the edges of a person saying oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I thought you were Keith, and tugging him back into the school, which was not at all where he wanted to go.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” the voice said, and Jake found himself in a restroom, without even the time to make sure it was the correct one - he needed to be in one called BOYS or MEN, or the one with a little outline of a person without a skirt. or GENTLEMEN. (Barclay knew a long list of things he’d seen printed on bathroom doors.)

But here he was, and he bent to the sink to wash his face and came up dripping. Then he repeated the introduction he’d given so many times already today.

“I’m Jake,” he said. “Dani’s brother.” (People knew Dani; she’d graduated only two years earlier. He told teachers he was Barclay’s brother. Barclay was a little older, but a better student than Dani had been.)

“Oh,” said the person. “I think I had an art class with her. I’m Hollis.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Hollis had curly black hair and brown skin, and the sleeves of their shirt were tattered like they’d been cut off and not hemmed afterwards. When they rubbed at the stuff on Jake’s sleeve with a wet paper towel he could see the fine line of muscle beneath the skin in their arm.

Jake took a deep breath. “Do you think you could point me towards the kiss and ride?”

By the time Jake climbed into Barclay’s truck, he was as clean as one could get with hand soap and paper towels.

“How was your first day?” said Barclay, tactfully not saying anything about the paint.

“Fine. I’m really glad you and Dani told me so much about what to expect. But when I was trying to find my way out at the end of the day a bucket of paint fell on my head.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Someone helped me clean up, though. Their name’s Hollis. I think we’re friends now?”

“Well, that’s nice.”

“One girl in my homeroom brought in brownies to share with everybody because it was her birthday. Are you allowed to do that even if it’s not your birthday?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Can I bring in cupcakes tomorrow? The ones you make are really good and I think people would like me if I gave them some.”

Barclay looked over at him, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll make you some cupcakes.”

The cupcakes were gorgeous. Each was as the platonic ideal of what a cupcake should be, the cupcake held before the fire to cast a shadow in Plato’s confectionary cave. The cake part was delicate and moist and yellow, and the frosting was pink, dusted with rainbow sprinkles.

“Oh,” said Jake’s homeroom teacher when she saw him come in carrying the lovingly packed tray. Barclay had put crumpled saran wrap between each cupcake so they wouldn’t knock into each other. “Is it your birthday, Jake?”

“Nope! But I brought cupcakes for everyone.”

“Alright,” said the teacher. “You can start passing them out now, if you’d like.”

Jake held out the tray to each person in the first few rows in turn, receiving varyingly sincere ‘thank you’s in return. But sitting in the back corner by the window was Hollis, and when Jake got to them, he didn’t hold out the tray. No, he selected the most perfect cupcake there was, cupped its soft bottom, and shoved the perfect pink frosting into Hollis’ perfect face.

“Oops,” Jake said sweetly.

“Jake!” said the teacher. “What do you think you’re doing!?”

But Hollis was already laughing, wiping pink frosting off their face and licking it off their fingers. “It’s fine, Ms. B., we’re in a prank war.”

“Well, please refrain from waging it in my classroom!”

“I’m sorry,” said Jake. He’d never heard the phrase prank war before, but the word war he didn’t like at all. War was the slowly narrowing boundaries of habitable land, war was an enemy that was somehow both inuman and implacably angry.

The boy sitting to Hollis’ left was looking up at Jake with something like shock and anger in his face. Looking away, Jake held out the plate of cupcakes to him so he could select his own.

Jake still had trouble finding the cafeteria, and so most of the students were seated when he arrived. He was scanning looking for a seat where he wouldn’t be intruding on someone else’s friend group when Hollis’ waving hand caught his attention. “Yo, Jake! Come sit with us?”

Jake hurried over. Before he reached the table Hollis elbowed the boy who was sitting next to them, the same one who’d been next to them in homeroom, and he scooted hurriedly over into the next seat so Jake could sit next to Hollis.

“Hello,” Jake said, nodding at each person at the table.

“This is Jake,” said Hollis. “He got me good in homeroom with a cupcake to the face.”

The others at the table laughed.

“Jake, this is Keith, Madison, and Ty,” Hollis continued, indicating the boy who’d been displaced, a girl with purple streaks in her long brown hair, and a boy with a mullet.

“Nice to meet you,” said Jake. He listened to them talk as he unpacked the lunch Barclay had packed him. A sandwich on part of a baguette, a chocolate-chip cookie, a honeycrisp apple (Jake had just been on earth long enough to have opinions about the different varieties of apples), and a note reminding him that Barclay loved him and wanted him to have a good day.

His tablemates were discussing what they were going to do over the weekend. Ty suggested going to Walmart, which was shot down on the grounds that they’d done that last weekend. No one’s parents were out of town, which eliminated the possibility of a house party.

“There’s nothing to do,” Madison whined.

“Can you drive places?” Jake asked.

Everyone went quiet. “Yep,” said Hollis. “When Madison’s parents let her use the car.”

It was Jake’s first autumn on earth, and from his bedroom window on the second floor of Amnesty Lodge he could see the leaves changing colors, red and orange and yellow between the bristles of the evergreens. “You could drive around and look at leaves. I’d like to come along, if that’s alright.”

Everyone was silent, deciding whether that was the lamest thing they’d ever heard or so lame it went straight through the other side into being kind of a good idea again.

“Fuck it,” said Hollis finally. “Let’s do it. And of course you’re invited, Jake, let me add you to the group chat.”

That Saturday, a silver Honda pulled up in front of Amnesty Lodge. Madison was at the wheel, Ty in the front passenger seat, and Keith sulking in the back. Behind it was a sleek motorcycle, and the rider’s helmet reflected the autumn leaves above.

Hollis pulled off their helmet. Their hair was disheveled and gorgeous. “If it was five of us in the car someone would have had to sit in the middle back, and that sucks,” they said. “Hop on, Jake.” They were holding out a second helmet.

“Um,” said Jake, offering them a bottle of sparkling cider with gold foil around the neck. “I brought something for us to drink?” The agreement had been that they would drive to one of the pull-off spots along the highway and have drinks there.

“Sweet,” said Hollis. “Put it in the back of the car?”

When Jake opened the back door of the car he saw a case of white claw on the seat next to Keith. “Was I supposed to bring alcohol?” Jake said. “I could have.” There was wine at the lodge; sometimes on the weekends Mama and Barclay went wine-tasting together, because Dani’s ID said she wasn’t old enough.

“No, Jake, you’re fine,” Hollis said. “Climb on.”

Jake fit the helmet over his head and climbed onto the smooth leather seat of the motorcycle behind Hollis. “Hold on tight,” said Hollis.

The motorcycle roared to life like one of Silvain’s larger beasts. Then it leaped forward, swerving hard to veer around Madison’s parents’ car. Jake swallowed a shriek and held on tighter. He could no longer feel the soft fabric of Hollis’s shirt, only the beast beneath them and the wind tearing at their jackets and the red, orange, and yellow leaves racing by above.

By the time they reached the appointed meeting place the others weren’t even in sight.

“So,” said Hollis when they pulled their helmet off. “What brings you to Kepler?”

Jake knew how to lie, when presented with questions like this. But with Hollis they found they didn’t want to. “I got kicked out of my old school.”

Hollis’s eyebrows went up.

“For… stealing.” Stealing food, because his family’s traditional hunting grounds had been corrupted by the Quell, and everyone else had barely enough for themselves. The huge mounds of apples in the grocery store in Kepler were the first thing to convince him he’d been exiled to paradise.

“Damn, Jake. And here I thought you were so wholesome.”

Jake threw up a hang-ten. “Nah, I’m a real bad boy.”

“Are you… with anyone? From your old school?”

“Nope. Are you?”

“Nah.” Hollis took a deep breath. It was the first time Jake had noticed them breathing. Human beings had to breathe so frequently, he’d found, and he sometimes forgot to until his lungs reminded him. His old body had been able to hold its breath for over an hour, collapsing his lungs so he was sleekness against the water inside and out. Incompressible.

“Wanna make out?” said Hollis.

“Yeah,” said Jake.

Hollis leaned in and kissed him. The best part was how warm their lips were, how warm their face was, right up close to his. No, scratch that. The best part was how they smelled, a smell Jake hadn’t encountered on earth up to that point but knew now he could never get enough of. No, the best part was -

Tires on gravel. Jake startled, but Hollis didn’t stop kissing him, even as Madison honked the horn on her parents’ car.

To Jake, that was the most surprising thing, that Hollis would want to kiss him in front of their friends. Teenagers were the same everywhere.

#jakehollis #taz hollis #jake coolice #taz barclay #taz keith

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lovesanmotion · 3 years

Text

Inception - Choi San

summary: in which san is haunted by the memories of you

warning: dead!reader, suicide, attempts of suicide, unprescribed medication, drugs and blood

songspiration: painkillers - t-ara, the seeya & 5dolls & evanesce - super junior

tags: @bonbonhwa

Choi San wasn't sure if coming back to this place is the best decision he could make, but nevertheless, he went back.

The only one place he could ever call "home" is now unhibited, the remaining items covered with white cloth to prevent dust sticking onto the surfaces and the window blinds closed. Nothing much has changed, the furnitures were still in the same place.

San gulped, he knew he shouldn't be here. But he went against his own will and decided to come back here. Why? It was the place where he once lived with you before he lost direction in life and will to live. But maybe, just maybe, the memories here will help him.

San smiled to himself and removed the white cloths off the furnitures. He'll try to be a better man, for you. He opened the blinds and let the rays of sunshine inside the old home. When was even the last time he saw the sun? Lastly, he removed both the cloths of the piano and the mirror. His smile vanished.

San sat down beside you as your fingers gracefully danced across the piano keys, playing Fur Elise one Sunday afternoon. He always loved hearing you play the piano, he thought that you looked calm when playing and he always love whatever melody you played, even if you completely just made it up.

The song suddenly stopped and your fingers stopped moving around the keys.

"Hey why did you stop?" San asked, laying down on the couch.

"I was supposed to ask you what song should I play next? Musn't disappoint my only audience." Your laughter. Even the sound of your laughter is music to his ears. He loves watching the curves your lips curl up and your eyes closing in a crescent shape.

"Play Prelude for me then" San smiled, he watched as you slowly turn your back on him again. The soft melody finally coming to life just as he requested.

San glumly walked towards the bedroom. He found it still the same, only the bed and the cabinet remained. He held the handle of the cabinet and opened both doors. His heart dropped. It was still filled with your clothes.

San slowly took the sweater he once bought for you and brought the clothing to his nose, taking a whiff. It still smelled the same, your powdery rose scent. His lower lip quivered and his eyes brimmed with tears, bringing the clothing to his chest as if he was hugging you. He couldn't even give you one last hug.

Finally, the tears fell down on his face and he lets out a painful shriek, cluthing on your remaining clothing to his chest tightly. He drops the clothing on his lap and rummages through his bags, throwing away the items that got in his way and took out the pill bottle, opened the cap and pour a handful on his palms before downing in one go in his system. His body jerked forward after, his hands clutching onto your clothing tightly as he slowly laid down on the bed he used to share with you and then closing his eyes.

"Sanie, you made a mess in our room and you only slept?" You shook your head and picked up the clothes on the floor before sitting down on the edge of the bed and folding the clothes neatly before putting them back on the cabinet.

"I'm sorry Y/N" He spoke, he watched as you opened the lights and climbed on the space beside him in bed, caressing his hair.

"I still love you, remember that" you leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead.

San's eyes slowly opened, he was tucked in bed, his side of the bed to be exact. The clothes were no longer on the floor and the lights were open. He immediately sat up on the bed, you weren't a dream. You had to be not only a dream.

He picked up his phone on the bedside table and dialed your number.

The number you dialed is no longer in service.

He dropped the call and dialed your number again.

The number you dialed is no longer in service.

Tears fell down on his face as he dials your number once more, bringing his phone onto his ear.

The number you dialed is no longer in service.

San throws his phone from across the room, not caring if he broke it. He reached for his pill bottle and poured a handful in his palms once more and downing it in one go. He felt like dying day by day. But he isn't complaining. If it meant seeing you again, he would be more than happy.

He brought his legs down and got up, trudgingly walking to the last room he didn't get to earlier. The bathroom.

The bathroom was empty. But the bathub, faucet and toilet were still intact. San walked over and went to face his reflection. His clothes shrivelled, hair oily and unkept, his eyebags darkening in a deep purple color and eyes swollen. He gulped and tried to smile at his reflection. He wanted to become a better man for you, he truly does want to.

But a glimmer caught his eye through his peripheral vision. Turning his head to the right side, his eyes landed on your bottle perfume. The one that smells like powdery rose. Slowly, he walked towards the item, opened the cap and inhaled it.

Smells just like you.

He removed the spout of the perfume and threw the remaining liquids in the bottle to his shirt. Finally, your scent lingered around the bathroom.

"The bathroom smells like you. A scent to know if Y/N was here" San chuckles inside the bathroom, but he isn't complaining. He loves your scent, loves the way it takes over his nostrils.

When the bathroom was filled with your scent, he felt like you are here with him. Physically, emotionally and mentally. A smile etched on his lips and he got up from the floor. Ready to live a life like a better man. Leaving the bathroom and heading into the kitchen.

He prepared your favorite foods, delightfully plating them like how a five star restaurant would do and placed them down on the table. He prepared the food fit for two people, one for him and one for you. San sat down on his usual spot in the dining table and glanced around the room, waiting for you.

"Y/N! The food is ready!" San calls, waiting for you.

Silence. He was only greeted with silence. San violently threw a coughing fit, feeling a metalic taste powering over his mouth. When he no longer feels a strong stabbing pain rising from his chest he glanced down on the food.

Blood. The food he made was covered in blood.

But San only laughed. He laughed at the sight before him. His hand and clothes were covered with his blood as well. He took the appetizer plate and violently threw it away, followed by the wine glasses. He threw the plates once more around him, not minding if his legs' skin were bleeding from the shard or not and laid down on the floor covered with food, blood and shards of glass.

"Sanie I'm really worried about you" He watches as your figure emerges out and helps him get up from the floor and immediately cleaning the mess you made.

"Y/N I'm sorry...I'm truly sorry" He says, tears falls down on his face and he could only watch you come up to him.

"Sanie, you'll get through this. I believe in you." You smiled at him assuringly.

San stared at the calendar and clock before him. The calendar was a year behind and the clocked didn't functioned anymore. But he brought the calendar back to a certain date. The date he first met you.

He sets the calendar down and took the clock and arranged it to the time he first met you. Setting the clock back down on the table beside the calendar.

And beside the clock is the pill bottle. He poured himself onto his palm, a little more than what he'd usually take and downed it in one go. San noticed how the clock is functioning, everything around him is clean and soft melody being played.

The piano.

A smile graces his lips as he watches you walk over to the piano.

"Is it the prelude for you?" You asked him, smiling at San. And he smiled back at you, nodding his head.

And San watches you sit down on the piano stool, removed the cap and heard the soft melody of the classic.

#ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez angst #ateez san #choi san #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpop angst

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boognish-worshipper · 3 years

Text

Midnight City AU

it took me forever to decide where to go with this chapter and i was literally getting fed up editing it 😭 i’ve been so busy with all the chaos goin on in my life rn too so yeah writing’s been feeling delayed over all but i decided to just finalize this one for rn and uhhh sorry if it seems funky or shortttt

//Chapter 3: Vanished

The next day, Trevor went back to Sterling Lake Park, after spending the night at Wade’s. He agreed to meet up with him there later, walking around the park with his earbuds in. As he threw himself down on his usual bench, he settled on listening to his usual playlist of his favorite songs. He scrolled through nosedivr once again, taking a photo of the lake. It was foggy, and the thick air sat atop the water. He liked when it was like that. A sturdy drumbeat thumped in his ears, making him feel whole. He paused it briefly, just to change it to a different song that was even louder, but with the lack of music he could now hear the crunch of gravel not too far away. He thought he told Wade to come later on? He looked up from his phone, pulling out an earbud. It was the guy from yesterday.

“Hey.”

“Hello.”

“Where’s Amanda?” He asked, glancing around.

“Uhh she’s.. not here today. I kinda came to see if you were here. I wanna get to know more people at this park if I’m gonna hang ‘round here more I guess.”

“But she doesn’t like me?”

“She don’t gotta know.”

“Well aren’t you Boyfriend of the Year.”

“Oh uh, we aren’t dating yet.”

“Thought she was your girl though.”

“She is, she is. But it’s nothing serious. Not yet. And I don’t know what happened between you guys but you don’t seem that bad, so if I wanna talk to you that’s more of a her problem than me.”

“Huh.”

Today Michael wore an eCola shirt, which was obviously made to resemble their old logo, with blue jeans. He had on a pair of red sneakers this time to match the color of the shirt. They looked slightly newer, compared to the pair he wore yesterday. He dressed nice for such a basic style. Trevor on the other hand, threw on an old, frayed Love Fist t-shirt, and messy jeans. He wore a different pair of boots, some kind of knockoff of a popular name brand. A pair of purple lensed circular glasses sat on his head, the nose pieces caught in his hair.

“So.. uh. Mind if I sit there?”

“Not like I own the bench or anything, go right ahead.”

He cautiously sat next to Trevor, hands in his lap. Trevor started one of his other playlists up again, settling on a mix of Paramore and Green Day. He left an earbud out, just so he wouldn’t be completely rude. He mindlessly scrolled, occasionally looking back at the lake or casting a sideways glance at Michael, who was looking at him funny. Sighing, he paused his music, putting his earbuds away.

“What.”

“I.. nothin’ man. I just, I dunno. What is the point of coming here?”

“It’s a public fuckin’ park man.”

“I know, but you said that you don’t even really like the people here, so what’s the point?”

“There is no ‘point’ to it. I just like time to myself is all. These guys don’t bother me, and I don’t bother them. They only start trouble when they see fit.”

“Ah… I see? What were you listening to by the way?”

Trevor stifled a groan, not really wanting to talk to the guy when he had time to freely plot his scheme.

“Pop punk shit. Ever heard of it?”

“Uh, no? I thought punk wasn’t supposed to be popular. Or fit in. Or whatever.”

“That’s merely the ideology, which I do follow, dear Michael. I just like the sound I guess. You know Paramore?”

“Not really. I don’t listen to that stuff much.”

“Then what the fuck do you listen to?”

“Not sure if it has a genre per say, but I like that song Radioactive goin’ around? Songs that sound like that I guess.”

“You like Imagine Dragons?”

“That’s what they’re called?”

Trevor could only stare at him. Was this guy living under a rock?

“Uh.. yeah. Y’know what- never mind, what else do you listen to?”

“80s music?”

No wonder this guy was unaware of who’s popular now.

“Amanda’s been trying to get me into groups like the 1975. I actually kinda like them.”

Trevor rolled his eyes.

“Of course she did.”

“They’re not that bad to be honest. She likes that weird alternative shit.”

“Yeah, I know. By the way, there is a name for that genre. Indie rock. Can’t stand the stuff.”

“How come?”

“You know, you ask a lotta fuckin’ questions.”

“I’m just tryna understand this shit here. I ain’t in the loop of all these trends.”

“Well, for your information I just find the style to be too slow and whiny for my taste. I like fast, upbeat, wild stuff.”

“Any recommendations then? I wanna impress Amanda by at least knowing one artist off that nosedivr thing she goes on.”

He raised a brow, not really wanting to share anything else knowing he would just repeat it back to her, but he shrugged and continued.

“Alright. Besides pop punk, I like experimental songs. Underground groups. Crystal Castles are my favorite.”

“Never heard of ‘em.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to.”

“Right.”

“If you want more indie rock shit though, I suggest listening to I don’t know, the Arctic Monkeys? That seems more like her taste.”

“These bands have such weird names.”

“I think bands have always been like that.”

“Hey wait a sec, I thought you didn’t like that stuff? How do you know the name of one of those groups?”

“Ugh… I guess I might as well say it if you’re gonna get with her, but we were friends at some point. She introduced me to those bands, but even then I didn’t really like it. We had a stupid falling out I’d rather not get into.”

“Oh.. sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be. Shit happens. You definitely seem like her type though, no wonder she got with you.”

“What’s her type?”

“Heh. As if I’d tell you.” He scoffed.

“C’mon man, please?”

“Nope.”

Michael frowned, slumping in his seat.

“Fine. Whatever. Not like I need to know.”

“You could at least pretend you don’t care.”

“I don’t.”

“You clearly do, bro.”

He sat arms crossed, turning a smidge away from Trevor. This was his opportunity to listen to his tunes again, but before he could Michael spoke up.

“Can I… can I listen to whatever you’re listening to?”

“Huh?”

“I wanna hear what you’re into.”

Trevor shot him a puzzled look.

“Uh.. okay.”

Wiping off an earbud, he handed one to Michael. He already had one in.

“Pick your poison cowboy.”

“Cowboy?”

“Just a nickname I give people.” He shrugged.

Michael settled on his experimental music, actually nodding along to the sound. They were closer than a minute ago, and it made Trevor uncomfortable for whatever reason. Maybe because he was never in such close proximity to strangers, but the other part of him didn’t care that much. Michael’s eyes were closed, smiling.

“You like it?”

“Yeah! Reminds me of synth stuff from the 80s, just more modern I guess.”

He smiled back at Michael, appreciating the fact there was someone else who liked the music he liked. The two listened to a couple different playlists he had, up until the moment Wade arrived at the park.

“Trevor! Hey!”

“Woah. Who’s your friend?”

“Hm?” He pulled out the single earbud, turning his head around. Wade had clown makeup on, making Trevor jump in his seat.

“Fucks sake. Hey Wade.”

“Ooh who’s this?”

He wasn’t sure if Wade freaked him out or not, seeing as the guy not only had matted locs, but many facial piercings as well. And the clown shit. He stood up to introduce them to one another.

“Wade, this is Michael. Michael, Wade.”

The way Michael looked at him was like a kid seeing a zoo animal for the first time. He looked bewildered, but not disgusted.

“Hi. What’s with the..?” He wavered a hand in Wade’s direction.

“Oh! It’s jus’ clown face. Not tryna scare ya or nothin’!”

“Uh huh… man. How have I never been around these parts? You guys are real different.”

“You got that right, Mike.”

“Seems like I’ve been missin’ out. I hangout with some dudes who would hate this place if I’m being honest.”

“I’ll have to meet ‘em sometime.” Trevor chuckled.

“They’re real cool guys. Didn’t expect our paths to cross, but anything’s possible in this fuckin’ city.”

“Oh yeah. Land of opportunities, for all types of wackjobs.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

A hand tapped Trevor on the shoulder.

“Uh, excuse me, Trevor, but are we still gonna talk about the Merryweather thingy-”

“Wade! Shut it-”

“What Merryweather thing?”

“Nothing, nothing. Not important.” He said, gritting his teeth, glare strong on Wade.

“Okay..”

“But you said we’d talk about it over icecream!”

“Later, Wade. Not right now.”

“Fiiine. Can we still get icecream though?”

“Sure. Promise. I’ll let you know.”

“Okay! Bye Trevor, bye stranger!”

Michael lifted a hand to haphazardly to wave goodbye.

“What was that about?”

“I told ya man, nothin’. Just going over some plans we’re making.”

“Is it about that special event being held there?”

“How you know about that?”

“Mandy told me.”

“Mandy… yeah. Figures as much.”

“She got an invite, and wants me to go as her plus one. I don’t know if I really wanna go though, I’m still pretty unfamiliar with all this.”

“Trust me, you don’t.”

“Seriously, what is your beef with those guys?”

“I told you, they start shit when they want. Taught ‘em a lesson and that was it. Nearly got me banned from this place, but it was kinda worth the looks on their faces.”

“You are.. quite peculiar y’know. Anyway, you mind showing more of that music? I was honestly gettin’ a kick outta it.”

“Uh, yeah.”

He sat back down next to Michael, handing him the same earbud as before. He clicked on one of his favorite Crystal Castles songs, Vanished. As they were listening, Michael furrowed his eyebrows.

“Hey wait a minute.. I think I’ve heard this before.”

“You have? I thought you didn’t know them.”

“No, I mean yeah I haven’t, but that’s not it. The lyrics. Vocals. I’ve heard them in a different song.”

“Oh.”

“Lemme think, lemme think, ah… I got it! Pass me your phone real quick.”

His fingers typed in the song title fast, pressing play right away. It was an indie rock song, much to Trevor’s dismay. But something stopped him from complaining, seeing how Michael’s face lit up.

“Yeah! This is it, Sex City by Van She. Y’know, I honestly think that’s neat.”

“What is?”

“The fact that a song you like, samples a song I like! Who would’ve guessed?” He said, eyes sparkling. Trevor didn’t notice how bright they were until now. The eye contact, along with the lack of space between them, made him feel stuffy again. He averted his eyes back to his phone, trying to loosen up a bit. As the song played, he savored in the sound, shocking himself a bit. The rock sound was there, but had an 80s sort of feel to it. The song finished before he knew it.

“So.. What’d ya think?”

“You know my thoughts on indie shit. Wasn’t for me, sorry.”

“Oh c’mon, you know you liked it.”

“Nope. Prefer Vanished.”

“Yeah, okay. Keep telling yourself that, but I honestly think they’re both really good. You think that too, I can feel it.”

“Whatever you say bro.”

He switched the song over to that Grimes song he listened to yesterday, the two of them sitting silently. It was a pleasant afternoon they shared. Suddenly Michael’s phone went off, and he yanked the earbud out.

“Ah shit. I gotta take this. Mandy.”

“Gotcha.”

Trevor grabbed the other earbud, putting it back in. He saw Michael wave his free hand around, looking close to hurling his phone right into the lake. Trevor assumed he must’ve been shouting as well, from the way other people were looking at him. Hanging up not much later, he returned to the bench, as Trevor put his earbuds away.

“Fuckin’ Christ.”

“So.. how’d it go?”

“She’s finally not mad at me anymore, but demanded I go take her shopping now. I swear, she’s gonna clear out my bank account or something.”

“How? You guys aren’t even dating.”

“I know, but I just can’t say no to her.”

“Uh huh.”

“Look, I’m sorry to leave so suddenly, but I really gotta go before she goes back to being pissed at me. See ya around?”

“I’ll be here man.”

Michael stood up, storming away. Seemed like he had a short temper, huh? He wondered to himself how long he was gonna stick around, seeing how Amanda’s dating history was… an extensive list. He thought back to last night, when he had seen that post of them, remembering the fact that no guy stayed for longer than a week. It almost made him bummed, seeing as he only had Ron and Wade for friends. Lester too, but that was on rare occasion. Shit. The plans. What time was it?

“Ah, fuck me.” He muttered. How did he let the day go by so quick?

He shot a text to Wade, telling him to grab Ron and meet at some icecream place. He did promise Wade after all.

Ron ended up meeting them there a little bit later, apologizing profusely before Trevor told him to just sit down and shut up. He did just that, almost apologizing once more.

“Now, let’s get down to business. Who do we know that would help us sneak into that club to cause sheer utter mayhem?”

Ron raised his hand excitedly.

“I could get Floyd maybe-”

“Definite fuckin’ no. He would have a heart attack the minute he set foot in there.”

This was getting nowhere. He tossed his head back to look up at the sky. As he did, he saw a couple walking out of the icecream place.

“Oh fucking hell.”

Was this guy following him or something? He snapped his head forward, trying to be a little more hidden.

“What? Trevor what is it?”

“Shh! Keep your fucking voice down Ron!”

He made all three of them lower their heads as the couple walked away, peeking over his shoulder to make sure they were gone. As he did, he could’ve sworn he saw Michael looking back at him. The both of them turned away as quick as possible from the split second of eye contact.

“Trevor?” Ron repeated.

“It was nothing. Just thought I saw someone.”

“Ain’t that the Michael fella I met today?”

“Nope. Don’t think it is.”

“Are ya sure-”

“Pretty fucking positive. Now, back on topic.”

The next hour or so still went nowhere. Wade had gone through two servings of icecream, and Ron started to get restless. Trevor was just bored.

“Ughhh there has to be something we can do!”

“I don’t know what to tell you Trevor. We’ll find someone, soon. There’s enough time isn’t there?”

“Yeah, but I’m not waitin’ til the last possible fuckin’ second to get a guy to help us out here.”

“But we still have time.”

“If you fuckin’ say so Ron.”

The three of them called it a night, as Trevor tossed around the idea of possibly getting Michael involved in his head. On one hand he wanted to out of spite just to make Amanda and the other hipsters mad, and on the other he didn’t want to screw up whatever new friendship he had started with Michael. Ron did say they had time to find someone soon. They weren’t exactly in a rush, but he still wanted to make sure their plan was concrete. They all went back to Wade’s, Trevor deciding to take a walk along the beach. He threw on the same playlist from earlier, watching the sunset. As he walked, he didn’t pay much mind to where he was going, bumping into someone.

“Ah fuck, watch where you’re going-”

“Shit, sorry man-”

As they spun around from the collision, he realized exactly who he had run into.

“Trevor?”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck? Are you following me or something?”

“Huh?”

“This is the third time I’ve seen you today. What are you even doing here?”

“Uh, it’s a public fuckin’ beach man.” He said, mocking the comment Trevor had made earlier.

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“Hey, I’m just tellin’ you how it is. I didn’t purposely search for you, hell I didn’t even know you lived this way.”

“I do. So make like a tree and fuck off.” He said bitterly.

“Woah, chill the fuck out. What’s your deal? I thought we were cool man.”

“I don’t like being followed.”

“I just told you I wasn’t!”

“It doesn’t exactly seem like it. You just so happen to look for me this morning, and just happen to go to the same icecream place I went, and then I find you here? I mean Jesus-”

“I’m telling you, it’s all purely coincidence.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fuckin’ hell man..” He mumbled.

“Y’know, you’re as fuckin’ stubborn as Amanda is. I already told you-”

Trevor balled his fists, before jabbing a finger into Michael’s chest.

“Don’t fucking compare me to her.”

Michael threw his hands up defensively, not realizing he touched a nerve.

“Woah woah, easy dude. I didn’t think it was that bad between you guys.”

He exhaled loudly, unclenching his hands.

“It wasn’t. Isn’t. Just.. don’t compare me to her.”

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling hard himself.

“Look, I think you’re cool and all but you can’t flip out on me like that. I mean we are just getting to know each other y’know. I can’t have you wanting to bite my head off like that if I just so happen to keep running into you. I really am just trying to navigate the area better, so forgive me if I came off as some sorta fuckin’ stalker. Amanda went home and I had nothing better to do so I chose to walk over this way.”

“Hmph. Fine. Whatever.”

“So we good?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now, since we’re already here why don’t we just hangout or something?”

Trevor folded his arms, trying to look like he didn’t want to spend another minute with him. It didn’t really work though, because he actually did want to talk to him more.

“If you insist.”

“Alrighty.”

The two of them started to head in the direction of the boardwalk, neither one speaking yet. After finding a bench to sit on as the sun sunk below the horizon, the silence was still there. This sort of thing was bizarre for both of them in different ways. Michael never really frequented these parts of LS, and Trevor never really hit it off with any kind of stranger. Ron and Wade were exceptions if anything, and he had known Lester for a while now. Yet there was something about this guy that didn’t make him feel like he was spending time with a stranger, even though he knew jack shit about him. He might as well try to make small talk.

“So I-”

“So uhh-”

They spoke over each other while trying to start up a conversation, making things feel a little more awkward.

“Shit sorry, you go first.”

“Nah nah you go.”

“Um. Okay. So.. tell me about yourself? We haven’t really talked about much besides music.”

“Yeah.. right. What do ya wanna know?”

“I just asked you to tell me about yourself, so it’s your job to decide what to say.”

Michael gave him a sardonic smile in response to that, partly because he wasn’t sure what to bring up about himself. It seemed like they were gonna be here a while if they wanted to say the most basic shit you say when getting to know someone.

“Well, I ain’t that interesting if you really need to know. I’m guessing you already know about my whole ‘affinity for the 80s’ thing, like the culture n shit that came from it. Real sick stuff.”

“If you say so.”

“Yeah. Anyway, if you really want to know plain shit about me though, I will tell ya that my favorite color’s blue.”

Trevor snickered at that.

“Pfft, seriously? We’re talking favorite colors now?”

“Hey man, you said you wanted to know more about me.”

“Uh yeah, but that’s so fuckin’ silly.”

“Maybe it is, but what about you? You got one?”

“Favorite color? You kiddin’?”

“I’m waiting..”

“Uh huh… I’ll give. Always liked the color red I guess. Like, in variety. Not picky about something as childish as that.”

“What’s childish about that?”

“Cuz only kids exchange that whole ‘oh what’s your favorite color?’ thing. It’s like if I were to ask you what your favorite dinosaur is.”

“Hmm.. I’d probably say a T-Rex.”

“Oh now you’re just pulling my dick. And no, I’m not telling you what mine is just because you did.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask you though. That was all you.”

“Mm… shut it.”

“You got one though?”

“I’m not telling you!”

“Ah ah, I didn’t ask which one, I asked if you had one.”

“Well I don’t, so knock it off.”

“That’s fair. I won’t push.”

They grew silent for the second time that night, before Trevor mumbled something under his breath.

“It’s a pterodactyl..”

“What was that?”

He forced a breath through his nose, acting annoyed.

“It’s a fuckin’ pterodactyl. That’s mine. Okay?”

“Hah, okay. Any reason why?”

“You’re so nosy.”

“You’re the one who started this conversation about getting to know each other man.”

“Ugh, I know that.” He said, lightly shoving his shoulder.

“I think it’s cool that they could fly and shit. I like flying.”

“You like flying?”

“Loved it.”

“Wait, you tellin’ me you fly? Like, planes and shit?”

Trevor winced at the words, regretting what he just said.

“I did.. at some point. Air Force shit. They said I was one of the best they’d seen in a while but I.. left. Sort of.”

“Then why’d you leave?”

“I didn’t exactly leave on my own accord. More or less got kicked out.”

“How come-”

“I don’t like talking about it. I know we’re opening up or whatever the fuck but that.. that’s still too soon for me to want to bring up. Especially to someone I barely know.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He said, even though it really wasn’t. It’s not like Michael knew though, he really wasn’t trying to prod in a bad way.

It was almost pitch black by the time their conversation got to that point, only distant streetlight and the nearby pier lighting up their surroundings. The whole mood had shifted, and both of them decided to just break it off there.

“Hey uh, I’ll probably see you tomorrow man. If I’m with Amanda I think I’ll just send a wave or something your way.”

“Got it. See ya.”

“Bye.”

Trevor stayed put, watching Michael leave as he turned down a random one way street. This guy was tripping him out and he couldn’t pin point why. It was getting late though, and walked off himself back to Wade’s. He’ll save that vexed question for another night.

//ahhhhhh i rlly did not know what i wanted to do with this….,,., sorry if this wasn’t as good as the first two !! i alrdy know i repeated a bunch of stuff in there and i feel like it got kinda sloppy so again, soz (including typos or whtevr)

but uhhhh anyway yeah i cut it off here bc i wanted to continue some of this shit in the next chapter ig lol,, more stuff to come soon god willing

#gta v #grand theft auto v #grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips #michael townley #ron jakowski #wade hebert #midnight city au

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

Text

The Temple- Chapter 3

Taglist: @nahimjustfeelingit-writes, @quietstorm-73, @ladymac82

Read Chapter 2 if you haven’t already, and let me know if you want to be tagged. Don’t forget to check out my Masterlist!

CW: smut

Word count: 4231 “Hello, my prince. I am Aisha.”

The words sounded like a prayer on her lips. Aisha.

“N’Jadaka.” The prince gingerly grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it, causing her to giggle at the tickling feeling.

“I am aware. This is your first visit?”

“That obvious, huh?”

Aisha full on laughed this time, a melodious siren call. He wanted nothing more than to let her drag him into her waters and keep him for eternity.

“Painfully so. No worries, I’ll ease you into it.”

N’Jadaka’s ears perked up at her forwardness.

“‘It’ being…?

“The reason we were called to each other.”

He leaned in to whisper into her ear, just loud enough for her to hear him over the crowd.

“And what reason is that, beautiful?”

The prince’s arm went around her waist, and he felt her place a kiss just under his collarbone. N’Jadaka just about melted right then and there, so Aisha grabbed his hand and led him through the crowd in the opposite direction from the entrance. Instead of another large door, this part of the temple was only separated from the rest by an ornate purple curtain, and when she drew back the curtain his eyes travelled to the winding staircase before them. Vibranium lit the halls as his eyes took in the artwork on the wall, some different stories of Bast and others scenes of sexual pleasure featuring the oldest Daughters of Bast from thousands of years ago. After staring in awe at his surroundings, the prince’s eyes fell to Aisha’s ass. It was by no means the biggest ass he had ever seen, but it was the perfect size and shape for his hormones to go crazy.

“How much farther?” He asked, pulling her back towards him and placing his nose in the crook of her neck, taking in her sweet natural scent.

“Not much farther, my prince. I promise.”

“I like when you say that shit.”

“My prince?”

N’Jadaka grinded his erection into her lower back and she reached back to grab him by the balls, making him release a whimpering sound in her ear.

“Not yet...my prince. There is much we must do before I let you experience Bast’s blessings.”

He pulled back and tilted her face towards him, staring into her light brown eyes.

“What else is there?”

Aisha chuckled darkly and pulled him along once more, hand never moving from her warm cradle between his legs. He followed with his bottom lip wedged perfectly between his teeth, trying not to bite down as hard as he wanted to.

__________

He swore the temple was bigger on the inside, or maybe it was just his raging hormones making the walk seem impossibly long. Once they arrived at what N’Jadaka assumed was her door he felt like they had been walking for forever. She opened it and motioned for him to enter.

“After you, your highness.”

N’Jadaka stepped in and took in his surroundings once more. The room was dimly lit and the lingering smell of incense greeted him before anything else. The only window was stained glass with a large kaleidoscope pattern that N’Jadaka was sure would look amazing in the sunlight. He took note of the massage table in the middle of the room, and then he noticed a bed as well as a chair over to the side. He could barely hear faint instrumental music playing in the background.

“So you’re a masseuse, too?” N’Jadaka asked Aisha.

“We are all well-versed in many physical arts, including massage.”

“So you’re good with your hands?” he asked with a devilish smirk.

Aisha smiled knowingly.

“Yes your highness, I am.”

“Well let's get to it then.” He rubbed his hands together and walked towards the massage bed, He stopped when he noticed the hole near the middle.

“Wait, is that for my dick?”

Aisha giggled.

“Yes, my prince. Some find it uncomfortable to lay on an erect penis during a back massage, and others enjoy it as part of a kink. We will see which one you are. Either way, you will be receiving a full-body massage in every sense of the word. Would you care to lay down?”

“Yes ma’am.”

N’Jadaka laid on his stomach, awkwardly placing his dick through the opening.

“Feels weird just hanging like this…”

“It always does at first, but if you wish you do not have to utilize it.”

“Nah I’m curious.”

“Are you ready to begin, my prince?”

“Uh yeah, let's do this” He said, trying to mask his nerves. He was instantly calmed down when she placed her hands lightly on his head to feel his energy and slowly trailed them to his feet, touching everything in between and acquainting herself with his body.

“Lavender or eucalyptus oil?” Aisha asked the prince. He pointed to the lavender bottle and she pumped some into her hands before rubbing them together.

When her hands came up to knead at his tense shoulders, her strength surprised him. He had never felt anything like that before. Her thumbs beat the shit out of his tension and the heels of her palms ran it out of town.

Aisha’s hands moved to his lower back and he let out a moan that he wasn’t expecting, before clearing his throat.

“It’s ok, you know? Moaning, expressing yourself in that way. If it feels good it feels good.”she told him.

N’Jadaka nodded slowly, not trusting his voice at the moment.

Her strong hands made their way to his backside and he giggled.

“Sorry, I guess I’m ticklish.”

“Plenty of people are, it’s a very sensitive area.”

She continued to knead his glutes and he tried to speak through his giggles.

“So- aha, how long have you be-been doing thi-sss?”

“Just two years. I got the call young so I started studying anatomy, massage therapy, reiki, and acupressure. When I hit adulthood I began my training to be a Daughter of Bast, and after three years I was able to officially call myself a Daughter.”

Her hands moved to the backs of his thighs, which was no better for him sensitivity-wise and he felt a stirring in his loins. He could feel his dick hardening and being pulled down by gravity herself the more it grew.

“Three years? That’s a long time.”

Aisha smiled at his attempt to make conversation.

“Yes, but it flew by. It takes time to learn the physical arts, even with my background.”

“I like that y’all call sex ‘physical arts’”

“Not just sex, my prince, but intimacy. What we are doing now is intimate, yes?”

“Hell yeah it is,” he said with a smile.

“Everybody comes here for different reasons,” She began as her hands moved down to his calves. “Some require sex, some just need us to lend an ear, some need the relaxing environment, some need to be held...it varies from person to person.”

“Makes sense. So what do I need?”

“Everything I just mentioned. Life was not kind to you, and that much loneliness doesn’t just disappear with talk therapy. Humans require intimacy not just for survival, but for our mental state as well. And I don't mean just in terms of sex. No, I mean familial relationships, romantic and platonic relationships. Even the intimacy that comes from community. That love and support and closeness can come from anywhere, you just have to be open to it. But it is difficult if you’ve never been given that chance before. After all, a child not embraced by their village will burn it down to feel it’s warmth.”

A lump formed in the prince’s throat as he thought back to the scorched Garden of the Heart-Shaped Herb.

“I’ve heard that somewhere before.”

“I’m sure, it is a very old proverb.”

Aisha massaged his feet and he felt his body respond to her touching the corresponding pressure points. He felt a rush of blood and his dick immediately jumped.

“How are you feeling,” Aisha asked, already knowing the answer.

“Relaxed and horny. Yo this upside down glory hole is kinda nice though, I might have to get a bed like this...”

“May I pleasure you like this or would you prefer a different position?”

N’Jadaka froze as if he had forgotten why he came here.

“Uh yeah, this is good…”

Aisha crawled under the massage table and sat on a pillow, cross-legged under his raging erection.

“If it pleases you, I will start with my hands.”

“Oh, it pleases me…”

She pumped some unscented oil into her hands before bringing them up to his dick. It was sensitive to her touch and he winced as she grabbed the base with one hand and massaged the tip with her other hand.

“My prince, there is no pride or ego here. When you feel the need to release you do so. Do you understand?” “Yes.”

“I did not hear you.” She said as she squeezed a little tighter around the base.

“Y-yes!”

“Good.” Aisha smirked and her focus returned to the task at hand. She used her fingertips to tease the underside of his dripping dick, watching with joy as it tried to twitch out of her grasp only to be pulled back in by her soft hand sliding up and down his shaft. His foreskin pulled back more and more as his dick grew in size and thickness the more she worked it. When she reached for his balls again he nearly lost it, letting out a loud guttural moan.

“Looks like I found it,” she giggled to herself.

She added more oil to her hands and coated his sack with one hand while working just under his head with the other, causing the vein under his dick to throb more and more until he released on her face with a growl. Each time his hips jerked, more spilled out and Aisha couldn’t help but get a taste. She swiped her finger across her face, gathering his cum, and brought it to her lips to sample the salty goodness. She brought the flat of her tongue to the underside of his already sensitive dick and ran it along the length to the tip, pressing her tongue into the still-leaking opening of his urethra hoping to catch every last drop. When she took him into her mouth, the prince stopped her.

“Hold on babygirl, I want to watch you suck my dick.”

Aisha crawled out from under the table and he stared at her cumstained face in awe. She looked even more beautiful than before. He slowly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the table before looking around the room.

“We doing this here, or…”

“Where do you want me, your highness?”

Aisha watched his dick twitch at her words and smirked at her power over him.

N’Jadaka motioned to the high-back leather chair near the stained glass window and she grabbed his hand to lead him over to it. He sat down and she stood between his legs. They stared into each other's eyes before he pulled her in for a sloppy kiss, not caring that her face was dripping with his essence. Their arms snaked around each other and she caressed the back of his neck while he gripped her ass tight. He pulled back to admire her body, taking in her deep brown areolas, and bringing his tongue out to taste the sweet saltiness of her skin.

His tongue worked one nipple while his fingers kept the other company. He alternated between the two, lazily tonguing and sucking and nibbling her erect buds causing Aisha to let out a moan that was more music to the prince’s ears. It was one of those deep, low moans that starts in the gut and travels up the spine before loudly breaking free. Her nipples were extremely sensitive to his touch and as she came down from her high he peppered light kisses around her chest.

“My prince…” Aisha said between breaths.

“Yeah, beautiful?”

“It’s your turn again.”Aisha said while sinking down to her knees before him. She began to drool at the sight of his already hard and leaking dick, throbbing because of her. She stuck out her tongue and opened wide before taking him inside her mouth to the hilt, tongue swirling around the bottom of his ever-thickening dick.

“Fuck! Girl y-you better suck the fuck out this dick.”

Aisha swallowed and sucked his dick like her life depended on it, cheeks hollowing and spit dripping down her chin.

She removed herself from him with a loud pop, and a thick string of saliva connected her lips to his bulbous head. She traced her tongue along the underside of his dick from his frenulum to his ballsack. She brought his balls into her mouth one at a time and worked them on her tongue while lightly suckling on them. Her hand never left his dick, pulling back his foreskin and stroking along his shaft.

“Babygirl, if you keep that up I’m gonna come.”

“No holding back, remember?” She took his balls out her mouth and looked at him with a devilish smirk before placing her lips around his head, and hollowing her cheeks to suck him hard and sloppy. Her tongue came out to massage his dick and he let out a stuttered moan before he burst inside her mouth.

Aisha made sure to clean her plate, sucking him dry and licking up anything left behind. He grabbed her by the chin and pulled her closer, smacking a kiss on her juicy, cum-covered lips. He loved how he tasted on her.

“Do you have one more for me, your highness?”

“Of course babygirl, how do you want me?”

She didn't answer verbally, choosing to push him back and straddle him instead.

“Oh so it’s like that?” He secretly loved her brief flashes of dominance.

Aisha lowered herself onto him, sliding all the way down until they were connected pelvis-to-pelvis.

“M-my prince, you are v-very big.” She struggled to get the words out, distracted by the way his dick stretched her out.

“Yeah and you got that tight, pretty pussy babygirl. Lean back, lemme watch your pussy swallow my shit.”

Aisha did as she was told and planted her hands on his thighs before leaning back and allowing him a view of her treasure trove.

“Ooh, fuck. That’s right, take my shit deep.” N’Jadaka.

“Your highness, it’s so deep.”

“You like that shit?”

“Mmm, yes sir.”

“Bounce on it then” He said as his fingers dug into her ass.

Aisha used her thighs to lift her body, then gracefully slid back down his pole with her hips circling like wind in a tornado. He was caught up in her storm, eyes intensely glued to hers. Her hand came up to grab his chin and hold him in place while her other hand sneaked into his messy dreads. Without breaking eye contact, she leaned down to kiss him and lightly snuck her tongue in his mouth. The kiss was soft and sweet as she grinded her hips slowly into his. They moaned into each other's mouths and climbed towards their peaks together.

“Mmm you feel so good your highness. How do I make you feel?”

“Like I’m on cloud nine babygirl. You got some strong juju in this pussy, I can feel it.”

Their foreheads leaned against each other and she picked up her pace, slamming her ass down on his lap.

“Keep that up and Im cumming in that pussy”

“Please, my prince. Cum inside me.”

At her command, his body convulsed and he released his seed deep inside her. She pulled up and only rode the tip of his dick, making him release a whine-like moan into the crook of her neck while his dick throbbed once more, pushing out the very last bit of semen his body could provide. Aisha’s pussy clenched and she let loose a deluge of her juices onto the prince before sinking back down and relaxing onto him. Their bodies still connected, they stared into each others eyes and took deep breaths in and out until they calmed their heart rates down.

“How do you feel now, my prince?”

“Call me N’Jadaka.”

“Alright, then. How do you feel, N’Jadaka?”

He paused to think about it, leaving them in silence for a minute. Still inside her, his fingers aimlessly traced patterns into her hips while her fingers lightly ran through his hair. She laid her head against his chest and he placed his chin on top of her head. He had never been held like this before. So calm, so close.

“Lighter. Open. Tired.”

They both laughed at that last one.

“Lighter and open how?”

“I don't know how to explain it, I just- don't feel as heavy and closed off in my spirit.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Yeah, I just-,” N’Jadaka began to tear up and Aisha brought her hand up to wipe them away as they fell. She gave him the time to let it all out. When he was able to talk again, he cleared his throat. “I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

“How what could, N’Jadaka?”

“Living.”

She pressed a kiss to his forehead and they continued to talk for a few more minutes before they finally parted. Aisha walked N’Jadaka back though the temple to retrieve his clothes and when they said goodbye neither wanted the other to leave.

“I am sure I will see you again, my prince?”

“Come on with that ‘my prince’ shit.” he said with a smile, causing her to send him one right back. He pulled her in for a hug and they both took in each other's scent.

“Be safe getting back, N’Jadaka.”

“I’ll see you around.” He kissed her cheek and turned to leave, nearly tripping over a black ball of fuzz.

“Isa? Hey lil mama, what’s good?”

The cat purred and rubbed on his legs.

“It looks like she likes you. You know what that means?” Aisha leaned down to pet Isabis, too.

“Nah, what?”

“You’re pure of heart-”

He looked at her and his eyes got misty before he noticed a smaller black fuzz ball making it’s way over to him.

“-and she finds you worthy enough to care for one of her babies.” Aisha answered with a smile.

“Aww, Isa.” He said as the cat moved to lick the kitten on it’s head before turning back to the prince. He reached out to greet his new friend but was beat to it by the kitten jumping into his large hand.

“It looks like she’s happy with her mama’s decision.” Aisha looked on with pride. This man had transformed right before her eyes and she couldn't be happier for him and his progress. “Do you have a name for her?”

He looked at the little black kitten intently.

“Nah, she’ll tell me what it is eventually.”

The two smiled at each other and exchanged kisses on the cheek once more before the prince was off to the palace with his new fur baby.

____________

“Someone seems to be in a good mood,” Shuri teased the moment he walked in the door.

“Hello to you too, beanstalk.” N’Jadaka threw it right back at her, and fully expected her to make some jab at his scars but the kitten distracted her.

“Bast, she’s adorable! Where did you find her?”

“The temple.”

“Ohhhhh, I’ve heard they have kittens everywhere!”

“Yeah you still got a couple more years before you get to visit all these cute little guys. Isn’t that right….” N’Jadaka paused, thinking a name would come to him. “Damn, nothing.”

“What's the problem?”

“I can’t think of a name. I don't want to just be like ‘hey cat come here’, you know?”

“I get it, but once she shows you her personality it’ll be easier to name her.”

“Name who?!” Nakia rounded the corner with a scowl on her face.

Without a word, the prince held up his new kitten and her face softened. She immediately grabbed the kitten and sat down with her on the couch.

“She’s the cutest! Did you get her from the temple?”

N’Jadaka cleared his throat, not necessarily wanting to go into details with these two. Especially with Shuri’s young ears around.

“I did. There’s a cat that fosters the kittens-”

“Isa? Oh how is she?”

He chuckled at Isabis’ popularity.

“She’s fine, she pushed this one on me and now here we are.”

“I understand, T’Challa and I have two that run our lives. Once this baby gets here I fear we will be outnumbered.”

“What’s T up to anyway? I want him to meet his new little cousin.”

“He’s in his office getting some work done”

“Bet. Can I have my child back please?”

Nakia kissed the kitten’s head and reluctantly handed her back to N’Jadaka.

“Thank you!” He waved goodbye as the kitten climbed up his arm to lay on his broad shoulders. Neither of the three of them could contain their ‘awww’s.

The prince made it to T’Challa’s office on the business side of the palace. The guards saluted him and after he saluted back he noticed their ear to ear smiles. He felt a tug and realized they were smiling at his kitten trying to play with his hair.

He walked in, interrupting what appeared to be a meeting on the screens in front of him. He recognized several of the faces as Avengers.

“My bad…”

He tried to slip back out the doors, but T’Challa stopped him.

“Nonsense, you should join-” The king paused at the adorable sight before him. “Actually, meeting adjourned. We can pick this up tomorrow.”

As the Avengers screens went black, N’Jadaka sat in the chair across from his cousin. As soon as he got close, the kitten leapt from his shoulder to the king’s desk.

“So I take it your time at the Temple was fruitful, umzala.”

“Fruitful? Nigga I almost fell in love and I came home with a child.”

“Love?”

“I mean, I know it's nothing because they do this all the time but damn she was something else.”

The kitten had taken to T’Challa, naturally, and began to climb up onto his shoulder.

“You’re correct that they are professionals, but that doesn’t mean a spark wasn’t felt. Our grandmother was a Daughter of Bast. She chose to leave the temple when she married our grandfather, but that was how they met.” The king explained while play-fighting with the kitten on his shoulder.

“I didn’t think that was possible...so they're not married to Bast or something like that?”

“No, they are free agents. Some of them stay Daughters after marriage or children. Several leave and come back. Bast is the goddess of pleasure, and how unpleasurable would it be to force everyone into the same box?”

N’Jadaka nodded slowly, trying to wrap his brain around the new information.

“So have you named her yet?”

“Nah, I figure it’ll come to me. I can already tell she’s a handful.” He said as they watched the kitten jump down and begin chasing her tail, falling over in the process.

“So back to the temple. Who did you see?”

“Aisha.”

“I can’t say I know of an Aisha, I haven’t been in so long. Every time I go, Isa tries to push more kittens on me, and I hate denying her.”

N’Jadaka chuckled at the thought of Isabis and the king’s interactions.

“So this Aisha, are you planning on seeing her again?”

“Hell yes. How soon is too soon to go back?”

“You can go back whenever, but I would suggest waiting until you feel it is the right time.”

The prince thought over it for a moment before responding.

“I saw her before I met her. In a daydream. Then when I saw her in person I felt this warm pulling in my stomach like-”

“Like a chain pulling you towards her. Yes, I am familiar.” A goofy smile appeared on T’Challa’s face as he thought of his wife.

“So you get it?”

“I do, but does she?”

_______________

On the other side of Wakanda, Aisha lowered herself into a fragrant bath and thought over her day. She had told herself it would be an off-day, but then when she saw the prince she felt something in her gut tell her to go to him. When he kissed her hand ‘hello’ she nearly melted at the touch of his skin on hers. She wasn’t used to experiencing those feelings from patrons.

When she caressed and massaged his body, she could feel the pain melt away. When she rode him she could feel his soul opening up and she gladly stepped through the door. She could feel his emotions and she opened herself to him, allowing him to feel hers. When they came together, she saw constellations in his chestnut eyes.

She stayed in the bath, daydreaming about Prince N’Jadaka until the water ran cold. When she emerged from the water, she air dried her body and covered herself in cocoa butter before lowering herself to the floor for her nightly prayers to the goddess.

Aisha pulled back her sheets and slid in naked. She laid there for an hour, mind racing over all the possibilities, before sleep finally took her in for the night.

Next Chapter

#cecewritessometimes #the temple #n'jadaka x oc #n'jadaka #erik killmonger #black panther fic

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gravelyhumerus · 4 years

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 6

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

The team takes on trivia. Emily strips in front of JJ. It's quite an evening for all.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

“Come on, Jayje,” Penelope whined. “It’ll be good for you to go out.”

“I’m sick,” JJ said, fake coughing. “And I need to get a head start on my project for my new media course. It’s worth forty percent.”

“Bullshit.” Penelope said, “I know for a fact that that isn’t due for two weeks. Tonight is NOT the make or break point in that assignment for you.”

JJ sighed.

“You need to get out. See the world. Do more than just play soccer, work out and do homework. You’ve been hiding since your break up. It’s not healthy.”

She had told herself she would stop avoiding Emily after she had figured out what her feelings were. Despite JJ’s realization that it was a genuine crush, that JJ truly liked Emily, JJ needed to also be sure that she wasn’t simply rebounding onto someone nearby.

Someone pretty and smart and kind and who lived right across the hall.

“It’s trivia night JJ,” Penelope said, “and we have Spencer on our team it’ll be fun.”

JJ sighed, looked up from where she lay on her bed.

“Fine.”

“Make yourself pretty, you know who will be there,” Penelope replied, turning back to her make-up mirror to finish applying her purple lipstick.

“Yeah thanks for that,” JJ said sarcastically, “I saw what you did there.”

“Who, me?” she feigned innocence.

JJ changed from a plain t-shirt to a tighter, low cut long sleeved blue shirt. She then took her hair out of a ponytail, brushing it out before tucking it carefully behind her ears. On principle, she huffed the entire time, so that Penelope would know that she wasn’t happy about the situation, despite the butterflies in her stomach at the idea of seeing Emily again.

She took care to apply some eyeshadow, some blush and a pink lip gloss that tastes like strawberries. There was something intimidating about Emily. She looked so… put together. With Will, he never really noticed, or cared, if she wore makeup, but Emily definitely would.

God. This was stressful. Is this what liking girls was like? If it was, JJ was not sure she was cut out for it.

At least she was going to be on home territory, as trivia was their thing, something that Penelope and JJ had been doing since their floor was forced into going back in first year.

JJ was working hard at learning to relax a bit. Between maintaining her grades, soccer, and her new job editing press releases for the student government, she was already being pulled in multiple directions. A night out would be fun, she reminded herself.

She tried to quell her nerves at going out with Emily. It wasn’t a date or anything. Just friends hanging out. JJ’s friends and Emily’s friends. Penelope’s meddling was further tying her to the girl across the hall by blending their friend groups.

While half of her mind wanted this to happen, wanted to see Emily all the time and have an excuse to see her, smell her, hear her laugh…. JJ frowned as she realized that her crush complicated everything. Emily was already across the hall, and if she admitted her feelings, and they weren’t reciprocated, she would run into her all the time. Now, with Derek Morgan befriending Penelope and Spencer, and all of them going out together, JJ’s silly crush could send ripples across more than just her own life.

JJ ran her hands through her hair, worrying about the possible ways she could fuck this up. She did not entertain the possibility that Emily could possibly like her back. First of all, she had no idea if she was straight or not. JJ didn’t even know how to tell.

JJ glanced over to Penelope, who was finishing up her makeup sitting at her desk, looking into a small mirror on the desk. JJ knew Penelope was queer, as her roommate was not shy about it whatsoever. In her mug full of pens was a pride flag from last year’s pride parade. It was in June, so JJ had been back in Pennsylvania then, but she remembered seeing the joy on Penelope’s face in the photos she posted on Instagram. Penelope wasn’t the person she knew that identified as queer. In fact, Spence had recently told them that he was bi. It wasn’t like JJ was not aware of the community, she thought she was just supporting LGBT+ issues on principal, and for her friends.

She hadn’t considered that when, in her politics class in high school, she was viciously debating on gay marriage for someone like herself. The topics always felt distant. Like something that affected someone else. She was so certain in her heterosexuality that she had joked about it to Penelope earlier in their friendship.

The token straight friend, she had said. So much for that.

“Pen,” JJ said, trying to force a neutral tone to her voice, and failing. “How did you know you weren’t straight?”

Penelope turned and simply stared at her for a long moment before giggling and saying: “Are you finally realizing you have a crush on Emily Prentiss?”

JJ sat up in her chair.

“What?”

“Aw darlin’,” Penelope said to her, tilting her head, ”You barely talked about your break up. You were too busy literally running from your feelings for her ever since you ran into her at the library. I had to finally ask her out for you.”

“I–” JJ stuttered. “I talked about my break up.”

“So to answer your question,” Penelope said, matter-of-factly, “I realized when I had my first crush on a girl, just like you’re doing now. Don’t worry about it too much, you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

JJ’s jaw had dropped.

“Babe, you came home one night babbling about how she taught you French,” Penelope giggled, “You might as well have held up a sign.”

JJ buried her face in her hands.

“Oh god,” JJ said. “Am I gay? What am I?”

Penelope walked over and tossed her arm around JJ’s shoulders, pulling her into a hug.

“Aww baby’s first girl crush,” she cooed, “So happy to witness it first hand. You might be gay! Or bi, or something else. Don’t worry too much about the terminology right now.”

Unfortunately, JJ was worrying too much. About not just the terminology.

Even if Emily was gay, or bi or whatever, she wouldn’t like someone like JJ. She was always a bit of a tomboy, barely knowing how to do make up and dressing like she was going to practise most days. JJ always felt a bit awkward when she dressed up, feeling most at home in joggers and a hoodie.

Emily, on the other hand, was all elegant with her pretty black hair, her perfect eyeliner and the way she always looked out together when she went out. Moreover, Emily was cool. She listened to music on vinyl and her bookshelf was filled with classic novels and smoked cigarettes. She lived in multiple countries, spoke more languages than JJ hoped to ever learn.

Emily’s mom was an ambassador. She had a nanny growing up. She had a single room and was paying out-of-state tuition. Well, her mom was probably paying her tuition.

JJ could only afford to be here because she was on a soccer scholarship, and barely had enough money to cover her caffeine addiction. The surprise small stipend from her new student government job was probably the thing keeping JJ from applying for a job off campus.

Emily would never like someone like JJ, she thought.

After checking herself in the mirror one final time, she looked at the time. 6:54. Emily and her friends would be there soon, and if JJ knew Spencer well, he would be showing up in just under a minute.

There was a knock at the door. She was right.

“Hi guys!” He said, entering their dorm room and taking his customary seat on the very edge of JJ’s bed. “Am I dressed properly? I wasn’t sure what to wear to a bar.”

He was wearing a button up, with a beige sweater vest over top, with slacks and converse to complete the outfit.

“Aw Spence,” JJ said. “You look great, I promise.”

“Remind me to take you to the mall to get some party clothes,” Penelope quipped.

“Those were two contradicting statements,” he complained.

Once Penelope had finished adding rhinestones to her makeup look, they opened the door to find Emily flanked by two boys, waiting in the hall.

Derek Morgan, JJ recognized, but the other one JJ hadn’t met before.

“Hello all!” Penelope called out from inside their room.

“Hi Derek, Emily,” JJ said politely, “I’m not sure we’ve met–“

She reached her hand out to shake the new boy’s hand. He was tall, with a shock of black hair and a serious expression on his face.

“I’m Jennifer, but my friends call me JJ.”

“Nice to meet you,” the boy said with a small—almost non-existent—smile, shaking her hand with a firm, confident grip. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

“His friends call him Hotch,” Derek piped up punching his shoulder in a friendly way.

“He’s pre-law,” Emily informed her, “we have a bunch of classes together.”

“I do not have that much experience with trivia,” Aaron admits, rubbing his shoulder and feigning injury.

“No need!” Penelope says, rounding up on the group, “Spencer here is basically a genius. You’re just a warm body.”

“I just have an eidetic memory!” He said, piping up from in the room.

With introductions complete, they headed to the small pub just off campus. It was a squat brick building tucked between a restaurant and an old book store. It had a nice back patio in the warmer months, and each Monday was trivia night.

Just inside, the bouncer drew big xs on their hands to indicate that they were underage, which were all promptly wiped off once they were inside and found a table. The atmosphere inside was relaxed, the staff not really caring if people were drinking underage on a Monday night if they didn’t cause trouble.

JJ loved this bar. It was old, with exposed brick walls and large wooden rafters over their heads. The ceilings were low and the bar was packed and loud, making the place feel cozy, yet not quite claustrophobic. On weekdays, it was mostly locals or upper year students, as their peers were more likely to try to drink underage on the weekends. The crowd was quite a few younger adults, with the occasional older couple or group of middle aged women having a girls night.

They found a table big enough for their group by just to the right of the bar, tucked out of sight, far from the bouncers. The six of them squeezing tight onto the rustic booth and shrugging off their coats.

Trivia started at 7:30 pm, so they still had time to get settled and acquire some drinks. JJ was squished between Penelope and Emily’s friend Aaron, who was explaining that he played forward on the men’s hockey team. JJ knew he seemed familiar, realizing that she and he had probably crossed paths at athletics functions.

“Did you guys rub the marker off your hand?” Spencer asked, too loudly, receiving a chorus of shushing in response.

“Dude,” Derek laughed, “Not so loud you’re gonna get us kicked out!”

“What do you mean?” He asked, the classic Reid obliviousness shining through.

Emily tossed a casual arm around his shoulders.

“You see,” she said, “we would like to drink this thing called alcohol tonight. If we have an x on our hands, we don’t get served.”

She pointed to the x on his hand.

“Speaking of which,” Aaron said, standing up, “I’m grabbing a beer, who’s with me?”

“Me!” Emily jumped up, with Derek on her heels, “What are you guys drinking? This rounds on me!”

JJ balked, drinks here were expensive. Did Emily actually want to buy them drinks? Or was she simply being nice. JJ should say no.

“Vodka cran, por favour!” Penelope responded before JJ could politely decline. “JJ drinks beer, and Reid will take a soda.”

“What kind of beer?”

“Whatever’s on tap,” JJ said sheepishly, feeling guilty about someone spending money on her. At the same time, with JJ’s baby face, there was little chance the bartender would buy that she was already 21.

“Root beer please!” Spencer called out after her, though Emily had already turned around, following the boys over to lean against the bar.

The bartender, a gorgeous young woman with shoulder length brown hair was serving Emily, leaning over the bar. Her eyes were rapt with attention as Emily ordered, even giving her a once over before she left to make their drinks.

Emily seemed to flirt back, but JJ could not hear what she said, the two women going back and forth for a few moments, their attention hardly broken by the other patrons.

JJ felt jealousy flare in her stomach.

As Emily’s fingers grasped the glass, the other girl’s hands lingered, and JJ watched the bartender wink at Emily before turning towards the other patrons. Emily had a cropped tank top, with a plaid shirt on top. Her tight jeans gripped her long legs, and her heeled boots gave an extra inch or so to her already impressive height. She looked hot. The bartender clearly saw it too.

She tried to push back that jealousy. She had no right to be possessive, Emily and she weren’t dating, or anything, they were friends. New friends.

“Your girlfriend is so good to us!” Penelope cooed, breaking JJ out of her thoughts.

JJ felt a blush spread across her face.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” she sputtered.

“Have you told her you like her yet?” Spencer asked.

“Guys,” JJ exclaimed, “this is not the time. She’s right there.”

“She has not,” Penelope replied. “Even though it’s so obvious that Emily likes her back.”

“Pen!” JJ said as she buried her face in her hands.

“Spencer you wouldn’t believe it!” she continued, unheeded, “Emily brought her cookies to the game!”

“She was just being nice!” JJ said, peeking out from between her fingers.

“She didn’t give me any cookies,” Spencer pointed out. “And we spent almost three hours in class together.”

As he said that, Derek, Aaron and Emily returned with not only alcohol, but also nachos and fries for the table. JJ, too polite to protest when being offered food, and who had the appetite of an athlete, dug in. She took a guilty sip of her beer, and felt Emily’s eyes on her.

Did Emily like her back? That couldn’t be true. JJ was just… Jennifer. JJ. No one special. Not like Emily. JJ decided not to linger on that thought, it wasn’t like JJ would risk their friendship by admitting she had feelings anyways.

“You know,” Spencer said between mouthfuls, “I’ve never done trivia before, but I’ve been told I’d be good at it.

“No shit, kid,” Derek replied, talking through a mouthful of nachos, “You talk like a textbook.”

Spencer looked like he was unsure whether or not to take that as a compliment.

“What are the topics?” Emily asked.

“They don’t tell you until you get here,” Penelope replied, “Someone should be by with papers and pencils.

As if summoned, a tall girl with short black hair came by, dropping off a pencil and a paper, split into four quadrants with ten blanks on each page.

“Who wants to write?” JJ asked, looking around the table.

Hotch was busy scanning the page for the topics: science, television, sports and music, and he didn’t realize the activity going on around him. Everyone, including Reid somehow, (Derek helped him) had stuck their finger to the tip of their nose, the official sign for ‘not it.’

He looked up, seeing the fingers and without comment he grabed the pencil.

“It’s for the best,” Emily said, “My handwriting is illegible.”

“Can vouch for that,” Derek laughed, “It’s like half cursive half something inhuman.”

Emily punched his shoulder and took another drink.

“So how does this normally work?” Hotch asked, gesturing towards her paper with the pencil.

“Question, two minutes to write down your answer, no phones,” Penelope replied, “Then we swap with a nearby team to mark it! And so on for four rounds.”

“There’s prizes,” JJ added. “Whoever gets the most right in the end wins, we hand in the sheets to the MC to enter.”

“Sweet,” Derek said.

“We need a name,” JJ said, looking up.

“The twinkies,” Emily blurted.

“The… twinkies?” Hotch repeated, incredulously.

“I don’t know,” Emily muttered, “I panicked.”

The group burst into laughter, which Emily laughed along with. She was a good sport.

“Let’s get Quizzical,” Penelope offered.

“I don’t get it,” Spencer said.

“Quiz me, daddy,” Penelope tried again, winking at Derek.

“Settle down now, little lady,” Derek said, laughing.

“We’re not doing that,” JJ laughed.

She wasn’t sure who looked more horrified at the idea, Spencer or Hotch.

“Counter intelligence,” Derek proposed instead, it has a nice ring to it and works with the trivia premise.

“That’s funny,” Penelope said. “And seems ok for the prudish ones amongst us.”

Hotch wrote that down on their page.

“Hello everyone,” the MC said through a microphone as the music quieted, a hush fell over the bar, with everyone listening to the women speak. “My name is Tara and I’ll be your MC tonight.”

Tara was beautiful, with curled hair tucked behind her ears and a friendly smile, she was tall, wearing high heels making her stand tall over the seated audience. JJ thought she might be a student, as she looked a bit familiar.

“Hi Tara!” Someone yelled out from the other side of the bar.

Tara chucked, “Hello Dave. Welcome all to Trivia Night at O’Keefe’s, we have brand-new questions and prizes for you. Are you excited?”

The audience whooped, Hotch pulled the paper close to him and readied his writing hand, taking a quick swig of his beer to prepare himself.

“We’re going to start off with some science questions,” the MC said.

The group looked expectantly at Spencer, who looked slightly nervous.

“First question,” Tara announced, “We’ll start by looking outside of our planet, at the others in our solar system. Scientists have long been able to calculate the masses of most planets, including Earth. It has taken longer to measure the masses of Venus and Mercury, primarily because these two planets lack what?”

“Moons, obviously,” Spencer said, too loudly. Other groups clearly overheard, writing the answer down on their cards.

“Reid,” Penelope scolded, “You’re on our team. Whisper please.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, taking a sip of his soda through a small straw.

“Question two: of what material is a rhinoceros horn made?”

“Bone?” Derek whispered to them, “They look boney.”

“That’s actually a common misconception,” Reid replied, “They’re actually composed of keratin, which is essentially hair.”

“Huh,” Derek tilted his beer in acknowledgement. Hotch wrote that down.

“How many hearts do octopuses have?”

“Three!” Emily hisses, before Spencer has the chance.

“Nice one,” Hotch murmured back to her.

“I like cephalopods,” Emily said, as explanation.

JJ desperately wanted to comment on that, but the game moved too quickly.

The next few questions were rapid fire, covering everything from the speed of a sneeze, to the surface area of the lungs, to the oxygen in the atmosphere, to which letters from the alphabet were missing from the periodic table (the answer was J and Q.)

JJ perked up when she heard the last question: “What are people who study or collect butterflies called?”

“Lepidopterists!” She said, triumphantly before the MC even listed the options.

Everyone looked at her, surprised about her beating even Reid to the punch.

“I- uh,” JJ stammered, “I collected butterflies as a kid.”

JJ caught Emily smiling at that. She looked away, embarrassed.

Next was music, which, between Hotch and his impressive understanding of dad rock and Penelope’s encyclopedic knowledge of current pop music, and Derek’s well-rounded passion for all genres, they did fine. Reid pouted, as his eidetic memory doesn’t quite work for things he hasn’t read.

JJ, unfortunately, was not any help. JJ liked music, but she did not bother memorizing facts about writers or sampling or anything like that. She just liked listening to it.

After that was sports, and that topic went by quickly with JJ, Derek and Hotch answering the questions with a high degree of confidence.

Hotch, who was already writing aggressively and getting into it, wrote more and more excitedly, and on the second to last sports question—about the composition of a baseball—he snapped the lead off the pencil right off.

This caused sheer chaos.

With no writing utensil, one more answer to write down, they scrambled. JJ shrugged helplessly, typically known as the mom friend in her group, she felt bad that she had nothing to offer. After a moment, Penelope discovered a fluffy pink gel pen she found at the bottom of her purse.

“Is the ink pink, too?” Hotch asked, raising an eyebrow.

He tried writing. The ink was pink and sparkly.

“Yes, sir,” Penelope replied.

“Did you just call me ‘sir’?”

“I don’t know what came over me.”

During the brief intermission between Sports and Television, somehow the Salem witch trials came up in conversation. (It was actually because Penelope had mentioned the Blair Witch Project and Spencer misheard, but that’s neither here nor there).

“She was four?” JJ demanded, “That doesn’t seem right.”

“Oh I read about this,” Penelope said, “Dorothy something, she was accused of witchcraft alongside her mother.”

“Dorothy Good, also referred to as Dorcas Good, was only four years old when she was arrested in 1692. According to her accusers, she had allegedly bitten them on their arms. She was actually placed in jail and interrogated by Salem officials where they took the fact that she had a pet snake as proof that she was a witch, as the snake would serve the role of her animal familiar.”

“She was a child,” JJ said, horrified.

“Yup,” Spencer replied, unfazed. JJ frowned but continued writing.

The last one was television, which was very clearly Penelope’s favourite.

“Friends ended in May 2004 after how many seasons?”

“Oh I know that one,” Hotch said, “Seven.”

Hotch wrote that down in pink ink, the fuzzy pom-pom danced as he wrote.

“Amy Poehler, Rob Lowe and Chris Pratt worked together on which US comedy series?”

“Parks and Rec,” Penelope said, “Parks and Recreation, God, I should rewatch that. Such amazing girl-power vibes in that one.”

“What were the names of the two government agents played by David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson in the 1993-2002 series X-Files?”

“Special Agent Fox Mulder and Dr. Dana Scully,” Emily said with a smile.

“Wait, you too Prentiss?” Derek said. “Nerding out with Reid tonight.”

“Guilty as charged,” Emily said, “What can I say, I’m a sucker for Gillian Anderson.”

JJ’s mind stuck on that comment. Was she simply a fan of the acting? Or was she implying some sort of attraction to the actress. JJ did not ask. Her mind was wandering for too long, all while looking at Emily, that she missed the next question.

Whatever it was, Hotch was informing her that the answer was ‘72 survivors’.

Questions about Saturday Night Live, The Office, Scooby-Doo and a few old-timey shows that they didn’t recognize followed.

“The last question for the night!” Tara announced, “It’s been lovely being your MC for tonight. I hope you all had as much fun as I did. You ready?”

The crowd cheered.

“Ok this one’s for all the nerds out there: what sci-fi series premiered in 1966?”

“Star Trek: The Original Series,” Reid hissed, struggling to keep his voice down. “Which was the beginning of a franchise that has now lasted over fifty years, spanning nine television series, thirteen films and assorted shorts, video games and novels.”

“Ok Mr. Spock,” Emily laughed, “Thank you for your brain.”

“Spock’s Brain is actually one of the best episodes in the Original Series,” he replied, JJ couldn’t tell if he had made a joke or was simply spouting another fact.

As trivia wrapped up, and the scores were being tallied, the bar roared back to life, with music booming and the attendees milling about near the bar, back at the darts and grouping around the tables.

She found herself chatting with Hotch and Penelope, about some question they were unsure about, but her eyes were fixed on Emily and Derek. Derek had a hand in the small of Emily’s back, guiding her past the crowd near the bar.

JJ wondered if there was really something more there, despite Penelope’s encouragement of her crush on Emily. Maybe she was already into Derek? He was very affectionate with all of his friends, especially Penelope, so maybe it was nothing. But still, Emily seemed to be reciprocating.

But the hand didn’t leave, it held her close, almost protectively, something a boyfriend would do.

JJ turned away, pushing the thoughts away and slamming the last of her third beer, scanning for where Spencer had run off to after the game wrapped up. He was seated with two other people at a table near the back, talking excitedly at them while they looked at him with rapt attention. Out of curiosity, she wandered over.

Maybe she can hang out with Spence as she banished the strange feelings of jealousy burning in her chest.

“Return to tomorrow?” the girl asked Spencer, leaning over the table in excitement.

“Return to tomorrow, season two, production number fifty-one,” Reid replied, “An alien named Sargon takes over Kirk’s body while two others take over Spock and Dr. Mulhall.”

JJ frowned, she had no idea what he was talking about, but recognized that it seemed like the plot of an episode of Star Trek.

“Alien races appearing?”

“Trick question, a race is never identified. Sargon is a disembodied mind?”

“Dr. McCoy quote?”

He looked stumped for a moment.

“Five, four, three, two-”

“I will not peddle flesh, I’m a physician!” He concludes enthusiastically.

This all appeared to be an extension of his trivia game. JJ was happy that he was making friends, despite him worrying that he wouldn’t fit in at a bar, he seemed to have found his people.

JJ gave him an affectionate pat on his shoulder before passing, on her way to the dart board. With Reid occupied, Derek and Emily flirting at the bar and Hotch and Penelope hitting it off, JJ decided to show some random boys up.

It would make her feel better.

There was a pair already at the board, tossing the darts fairly inaccurately. JJ asked if she could join, batting her eyelashes in a way she knew would grab their attention quickly.

They immediately welcomed her in, handing her some darts. She hit the nineteen, twenty and dead centre in quick succession. The rush of the game kept away her earlier feelings of jealousy, centering her in the moment and her goal.

The boys were floored. JJ was good at darts.

She played three rounds, slamming them each time easily. Amateurs. They were drunk, aggressive with their throwing, all force no finesse. Typical men.

After the third round, they left for the bar, offering to grab her a drink to celebrate her win, she followed close by, knowing better than to leave a drink unattended, but also not passing up the opportunity to drink for free when it was a silly boy paying.

Maybe she should rebound after her break up and sleep with a random man. She looked at the man in front of her, he was tall, with dark hair and hazel eyes, wearing a tight fitting white shirt. His companion had sandy brown hair and dark eyes, but neither of them were stirring anything in JJ’s heart. Both were objectively attractive, but neither were the beautiful brunette that lived across the hall.

JJ accepted her drink graciously, knowing she had to fill another few minutes of small talk before it was appropriate for her to rejoin her friends.

The one boy was telling her about darts, in detail, despite the fact that she had informed him that she did know how to play, and had just beat him at the game.

“Can I steal JJ from you guys for a sec?” She felt a hand on her bicep and Emily’s sweet voice in her ear.

JJ turned and the taller girl was next to her, her hand resting lightly on her bare arm, feeling electricity where their skin touched.

“Uh, yeah,” the brown haired boy said, JJ didn’t remember his name, “Of course.”

JJ smiled apologetically before allowing herself to be led away.

“Thought you could use an out,” Emily whispered in her ear, “You looked bored.”

“Thank you,” JJ replied. “I was.”

They stopped further down the bar, standing close, with Emily looking down at her, their hips brushing each other. JJ could smell her perfume over the ambient smell of alcohol, bar food and the old building.

“Men,” Emily laughed, “Am I right?”

They laughed. JJ wasn’t sure exactly what she meant but she thought she got the gist. JJ gulped down a sip of her drink, a vodka soda that the boy had chosen for her.

“Speaking of, are you and Derek, uh,” JJ asked, nervously, “A thing?”

Emily’s eyes widened, and her lips tugged into a smile, she began to laugh.

“Derek Morgan?” She guffawed, “Absolutely not, that boy is like my brother. Oh my god, JJ you thought we were together?”

JJ felt herself sigh a breath of relief, hoping that it was not visible on her face.

“I just saw how he was at the bar,” JJ explained, “I just assumed.”

“Oh that,” Emily smiled, “I asked him to basically pretend to be my boyfriend, a beard if you will. Keeps guys hands from wandering.”

JJ frowned, that she could empathize with.

“But no, we’re very much just friends.”

JJ looked over to their table: Derek, Hotch and Penelope were currently playing a game that seemed to consist of tossing coins into Reid’s empty soda can.

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, both girls listened to the music, standing closely, closer than they needed to.

Emily ordered them another round, and by that point JJ had given up protesting, realizing that this is just what Emily did.

Grabbing their drinks, Emily handed JJ’s to her. They smiled and raised their glasses in cheers.

“To new and old friends,” Emily said, “and to us winning at trivia!”

“I can drink to that!”

Both accidentally raised their arms too enthusiastically, their glasses crashed together. Emily’s grip slipped and the glass went tumbling out of her hand, right onto JJ. She was suddenly damp and sticky, the liquid soaking through JJ’s thin shirt.

“Oh my god,” Emily gasped, “I’m so sorry.”

“Shit,” JJ gasped, putting her own drink down onto the bar and stepping back. “It’s ok, it was both of our faults.”

“Let’s get you to the bathroom,” Emily said, with a hand pressed to the small of her back, leading her away from the bar. As an afterthought, Emily grabbed JJ’s drink and carried it with them.

A few people gave her concerned glances, one patron offering her a small napkin that did basically nothing. JJ wasn’t mad, it was fully an accident, but now she was just desperate to dry off.

Now, JJ was acutely aware of Emily’s hand on her lower back. Warm and firm, it guided her into the bathroom.

As soon as the door shut, the silence made JJ’s ears ring. Emily had turned to the paper towel dispenser, yanking probably four feet of it off and bunching it up before handing it to JJ.

It was a small bathroom basically just the room, one sink and no hand dryer, much to JJ’s sadness.

JJ hoisted herself up onto the counter, taking the paper towel from Emily, patting her shirt hopelessly. The alcohol soaking into the cotton and leaving the shirt a noticeably darker blue. JJ sighed.

“I’m such a klutz,” Emily said apologetically. “My mom always was on my case for it.”

“It’s not your fault, Em,” JJ said, “it was an accident.”

Emily grabbed more paper towels, moving closer and helping her, patting on the shirt, over her stomach.

JJ held her breath, realizing that Emily was so close. JJ could look up, see Emily’s face, looking concentrated, with her perfect red lips right there. Her strong hands were carefully dabbing at her shirt, fussing over JJ in a way that made her heart skip a beat. Emily’s collarbones led down to her chest, visible with her low cut chest. JJ felt herself blush, looking up to the ceiling, feeling embarrassed at these thoughts.

JJ’s top hadn’t changed much, besides it feeling a bit less damp, it still showed the liquid clear as day.

“This is doing just about nothing,” JJ sighed, clearing her throat. “Maybe I should just go home. It’s getting late anyways.”

“Nonsense,” Emily said. “You can wear this.”

JJ’s jaw dropped as Emily shrugged her plaid shirt off her shoulders, revealing her tank top underneath and handed it to her. JJ took it, dumbly, closing her mouth but saying nothing.

Emily turned around, clicking the lock on the door, and leaning her shoulder against it, just in case. She took a sip out of JJ’s glass, casually, as if JJ was not about to take her shirt off behind her.

Emily’s back was to her, but JJ sat, frozen, holding this new shirt in her hand. JJ pulled her wet shirt off, very aware of being naked in front of Emily. Well, shirtless, with her white bra visible, but still feeling incredibly naked.

She quickly buttoned up the plaid shirt, it was oversized and a warm grey with hints of green and navy, feeling very incredibly soft.

Warm and dry, JJ felt the shirt envelop her in what felt like a hug. A hug from Emily.

JJ hopped off the counter and smoothed out her new shirt, Emily’s shirt. JJ folded up her wet shirt and held it in her left hand. The other girl turned and looked JJ up and down, with an unreadable expression on her face.

“You look good,” Emily commented.

“Thank you,” JJ managed.

They stared at each other, for a moment, the room filling with a tension that made her shiver. The music thumped from the other room, but JJ’s heartbeat was deafening. She had accidentally stripped a layer off of Emily, and desperately wanted to take more off of her. Emily’s black tank was riding up, revealing a small strip of her stomach above her high waisted jeans. Emily’s face was flushed from the alcohol, her pale skin becoming pink on her cheeks and nose. JJ thought back to that morning when she had caught Emily in her PJs, of what she knew was under her shirt. This too hugged her curves, revealing hints about what lay beneath.

“We better get back,” JJ found herself whispering.

The bathroom was small, so the two of them were packed together in the tiny space. Emily suddenly leaned forward, closing the distance between them, reaching her hands out towards JJ.

JJ’s heart raced, unsure what to expect. Was Emily going to kiss her? No. Why would she? Oh my god what if she was?

Emily’s hand carefully fixed her collar, tugging on it slightly.

“There,” Emily whispered, “you’re perfect.”

JJ closed her eyes at the feeling of Emily’s hands on her. Sighing slightly.

She chastised herself for being silly. Emily was just fixing her collar. Being a good friend.

“Let’s get back,” JJ said.

“If we have to,” Emily replied. JJ tried not to read into that too much.

They returned to their table, squeezing back in tightly with their overcrowded group of friends. They were in a heated debate about the Zodiac killer. Neither girl knew how the conversation got there, but Emily immediately joined the conversation.

After a few minutes, and after quite a few sly looks from Penelope, the MC tapped on the mic, gaining the audience's attention.

“We officially have a winner!” Tara announced, “With 36 points, it’s Counter Intelligence!”

Their table erupted in cheers. They had won! There were a flurry of high fives, hugs and fist bumps in their celebration.

Tara, the MC came over to their table to congratulate them. She told them that they had beat out the second place by one point.

“Impressive work everyone,” Tara said, “that’s close to a high score, and these were hard questions.”

“We have a great team,” Penelope said with a grin.

“I can tell,” Tara replied. “Are you all going to come back next week? It’s Halloween themed!”

They looked at each other, then nodded at her. It was a plan.

“See you then!” Tara said.

She gave them their prizes, which were mugs with the bars logo printed in white on the green mugs. She would treasure it.

JJ finds herself yawning, catching the eye of Emily, who said: “we better get JJ to bed, looks like she’s fading.”

Please, JJ thought sleepily, resting her drunk head on her hand, take me to bed.

Sitting down, JJ’s five or so drinks had hit her hard, and she dreaded standing up and risking stumbling. She was drunk. JJ wasn’t a light weight, but over their time at the bar, she had gotten quite a bit of alcohol into her system.

“Come on, sweetheart,” JJ could feel Penelope grab her arm and hoist her up. JJ leaned on her, feeling a warm affection for her friend in the moment.

Together, they walked home in the cold night air. Laughing, chatting and walking together amicably, all holding their prizes in hand. JJ leaned into Penelope’s side, feeling warm despite the chill of the air. Something felt incredibly right about that moment, those people.

She didn’t want it to end.

They went their separate ways from Hotch once they got to campus, bidding him farewell, not before Penelope added him to a group chat titled “The Team 🕺” in reference to their trivia playing. Hotch promised he’d join them all again next week.

Once they climbed the stairs to their floor, Reid continued up to his room and the four of them found themselves trying to quietly return to their rooms without getting caught by the RA.

Despite being served for the entire night, if they got caught drinking underage they would get in a lot of shit, especially Derek and JJ on their athletic scholarships.

Muffled whispers and giggling filled the air as they walked through the common room.

Derek hugged them all goodbye—he seemed to be a hugger JJ surmised—and went to his room down the hall.

“Oh!” JJ said, spinning to face Emily in the hall. Penelope had already entered their dorm, with the door closing behind her. “I can give your shirt back tomorrow! I can… er… wash it for you. It probably smells like beer now.”

Emily gazed at her, from over her shoulder as she unlocked her door, looking JJ up and down.

“Keep it,” she said. “It looks good on you.”

JJ would swear she saw Emily wink at her, but couldn’t be sure.

Emily disappeared into her dorm room, and JJ went into hers.

She slept with the shirt folded neatly next to her pillow, the smell of Emily’s perfume filling her senses as she dreamt.

#criminal minds #criminal minds tv #jemily #gravelyhumerus cm college au #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #cm #prentiss x jj #jennifer jareau #fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #FINALLY HAVE AN UPDATE FOR YOU #its almost 7k #enjoy :)#my post

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iwriteforthetincanman · 4 years

Text

Mandoctober Day 11: Sorgan

A/N: I went off the deep end with this one folks! This also acts as I part two to day 4: Nevarro. Thank you for reading! Also I may have drawn inspiration from one of @dindjarindiaries writings at the beginning of this with Ad’ika’s eating habits. :3

Warnings: angst, self deprecation, sadness (lil anxiety) hurt and comfort, fluff and a hint of spice at the end

This is for @leo-moon ‘s Mandoctober!!

Another place Din didn’t think they’d ever return to was Sorgan. It had been a while since they had last visited, before Din had met you at least. After what took place on Nevarro there had been a little distance between the both of you, but not enough to cause concern.

Din had admitted to himself and to you (whilst you were asleep) that he was deeply and utterly in love with you, forevermore. What the both of you didn’t know was that whatever was about to take place next was going to change both of your lives...forever.

As cliche as that sounded, you had a job to do.

Feeding the child was as mundane as things could get around the Razor Crest, but he sometimes made it interesting. Whilst you weren’t looking he managed to sneak three extra berries by floating them into his mouth with his special powers. The only way you knew this had happened were the purple stains on his face, the one that you had just wiped clean.

“Ad’ika, you know you’re not supposed to eat more than I give, you might get a tummy ache.” Chastising the kid gently, you plucked him out of his high chair, making your way to the cockpit.

---

Din had been as strict as usual, Mandalorian style. Don’t communicate with anyone suspicious or unnecessary, Don’t contact me unless absolutely necessary and last of all, don’t do anything stupid. These were all the rules you had to abide by just to go unnoticed on each and every planet your feet touched. He reminded you so often it was like it had become your version of the creed.

What Din didn’t tell you was that there was a village on this planet where everyone knew him. Apparently the last time he visited he had helped save the village from being practically destroyed by thugs. So when they saw him again, they weren’t only surprised (which is what you were expecting) but they also celebrated. Alot.

There was dancing, music, drinks and lots of food. You could stay here for a couple of weeks, Din had told you. It was safe enough for now. This whole experience had been a clear juxtaposition of what the Mandalorian told you. It broke the rules, you didn’t know why he did this.

That is...until you met her.

Omera.

When you first met her, you should have sensed something between them just by the way she practically ran over at the sight of him. Over time, you realised that Din knew her better than the other villagers of Sorgan. Then it started to scare you how close they were. She gave him food, cared for the child and kept him company.

It was like you weren’t even there. Either he didn’t care as much as you thought he did or...you really weren’t needed.

Not right now at least.

That night you watched as the villagers danced around the campfire, so happy and content with their lives. A new song started to play, this time husbands started to bring their wives into the circle, bringing them close as they swayed slowly. You would’ve smiled at the heart warming sight if it weren’t for one thing…

Omera holding her hand out to Din.

It felt like someone was ripping your heart from out of your chest and crushing it into dust right in front of you. If he chose to dance with her you knew you never had a chance with him...probably from the beginning.

Were all these emotions you felt over the past couple of years a figment of your imagination? It was insane how stupid you felt in that moment. Feeling tears pricking at your eyes just went and proved that thought...all you could do was get up and walk as quick as you could, away from the gut wrenching scene.

You didn’t want to cause a fuss, despite all these conflicting thoughts and feelings.

---

Crying your eyes out didn’t seem like the best solution at first.

Hidden amongst the boxes in the hold, you tried to will yourself to stop. It felt like your heart wouldn’t cooperate with your brain. Din hadn’t even done anything to you specifically and he had managed to tear your heart in two. It could’ve been worse…

Who are you kidding? All of today had been a perfect recipe for disaster.

Omera had known Din longer than you had...did you even have a chance against her? She was beautiful, capable and she was already a mother. To you, she was everything you weren’t.

And Din Djarin...you could never say a bad word about him. You had recklessly fallen for him, not even thinking twice about the consequences. If another person hadn’t gotten between you two it would’ve been something else, with him being a Mandalorian, he could’ve gone on a hunt, leaving you and the child only to never return.

Yeah...that could be the ‘worse’ option.

Seeing him die in front of you? That was a close second.

Dying in his place? ...you would do it in a heartbeat.

Even now, thinking your heart had died in that one evening, you knew you would still do that.

“What are you doing down there?”

In the midst of your self deprecation you hadn’t even noticed Din standing in the middle of the Crest. Startling out of your stupor, you got to your feet, wiping your tears away rapidly.

“W-Where’s the kid?” You sniffled. No matter how much wiping away you did, you knew Din had spotted the tear tracks.

“He’s fine...he’s with Omera.” Just the very sound of her name on his lips almost caused you to cry out in pain. It was like he had directed a knife right at your heart.

Seeing your face crumple like that, Din had no clue what was going on. After he had refused Omera’s offer to dance, he turned to you only to see you practically running into the woods. Wondering what on Sorgan you were doing, he followed. He would follow you anywhere, really.

“She’s...she’s an amazing mother.” In an attempt to compliment her, you tried to keep yourself together. Of all things to happen, you didn’t want to lose your composure in front of Din over something so...foolish.

“Why were you crying?”

It wasn’t a question of if you had been crying, he already knew that, he just wanted to know why. Of course...you couldn’t tell him the truth! Not without admitting the intense series of feelings you had for him!

“I-I was upset...about the dancing.” What. The. Kriff. Was. That? Of all the excuses you could’ve come up with? You went with the dancing? Well, it was partly true in a sense.

“The dancing? What was wrong with the dancing?” Upon asking this question, you really looked at him. Even in all his beskar clad glory, you couldn’t help hearing how quiet his tone was. Did he always talk like that or was it just with you? Taking a breath, you answered.

“I...don’t know how.” Now that...that was a whole truth.

Even if you had been upset over Din’s choice in dancing partner, you had no clue how to even approach the subject of dancing, let alone with another person.

“...I could teach you, if you like?”

...You weren’t expecting that. But how could you refuse?

Stepping closer towards the bounty hunter, you gave him a small smile.

“I’d like that very much Djarin.” Hearing a chuckle at the use of his last name, you grinned. Hearing him laugh was always a rare experience, knowing you caused that kind of joy? Sent you over the moon.

Just the touch of his gloves brushing against your spine as he pulled you closer was the cause of many impure thoughts racing through your head. Scolding yourself internally, you let out a shaky sigh, awaiting his next move.

“Usually the guy leads and since I know how to dance and you don’t...seems like a good idea.” A laugh peppered his words as he placed one of your hands in his, leaving the other around your waist. Thinking back to the villagers, you remembered how the women placed their other hand on their partner’s shoulder.

Mimicking the action, you felt like you had drifted somewhat closer to one another, if that were even possible.

“If you listen hard enough you can hear the music coming from the village...it kinda echoes off the trees.” Doing as he said, you closed your eyes, intently listening out for the soft hum of dainty instruments as the notes thrummed through the forest.

“...it does.” You giggled lightly at the observation. Wondering how, even with the helmet on, he caught on to all these little details regarding the common senses. Sight, sound, smell, taste and...touch.

It felt like his hand prints were burning through your skin, despite the extra layers. This was the closest you had ever been to the Mandalorian, armor or not. Wounds or not. This felt so...so intimate.

“Now, it’s okay if you step on my feet the first couple of times, but it's a simple pattern so you’ll get used to it after a couple of minutes.” Minutes? He was going to dance with you for longer than a single song?

“S-Sure thing.” Stumbling over your words, you tried to gain a grip on yourself. The need for coherent thought struck you as he began to sway. Tripping over your own feet, you realised how difficult it was to do this whilst keeping your eyes on Mando. All the couples made it look so easy. That was when something Mando had said came crashing back to you.

“Wait...you said you already knew how to dance? Who taught you?” You didn’t know what you were expecting him to say as he took a moment to collect his words but you guessed that someone in the covert had taught him for fun. Instead...he opened up to you.

“My mother taught me.” Those words were spoken so quietly yet it was almost as if he had yelled them into your mind. Just the image of a little Din standing on top of his mother’s feet as

they swayed around their home brought a fresh batch of tears to your eyes.

“You’ve...You’ve never talked about her before…” Trailing off, you didn’t expect him to tell you more. You didn’t need him to, you knew how sensitive the subject of his parents was. You would never make him feel uncomfortable for your own personal gain.

“You remind me of her...sometimes.” This sentence was an attempt to knock you off of your feet altogether as you glanced down, a furious blush kidnapping your features as you faked a hurried look at your feet.

“...how so? If you don’t mind me asking that is.” You would ask, but if he didn’t want to go further. Further than this...a simple dance lesson yet it was so much more. If he didn’t want to tell you about his mother, one of the people who meant the most in the galaxy to him besides the child...perhaps besides you. You were completely fine with that.

“I don’t mind you asking questions Y/N...it’s one of the many qualities I like about you.” The combination of the words ‘I’, ‘like’ and ‘you’ filled you with an overwhelming urge to hug him. Restraining yourself, you chose to grin at him, shyly albeit.

“My mother was curious, kind, forgiving yet fierce in the way she loved those around her. It showed through in the many ways she cared for me and my father. I remember asking her one night how they met, she told me that the scenario of that night was predictable up until the point where she saw him through the crowd. I remember the look in her eyes when she recalled ‘It was like the galaxy was pushing us towards one another’ she said. I remember...at the time, I yearned for something like that to happen to me one day...although it was a childish dream I know now.”

“It’s not childish to yearn for love Din.” You couldn’t help your outburst, biting your lip, you refused to meet his gaze. That helmet may have deemed an unforgiving message to others but to you, it was him. You had refused to face the facts for so long now...no matter how true they were, but you were...you are so utterly in love with him. The Mandalorian.

“You sound like you’re talking from experience.” He hummed, letting out a bitter chuckle you faced him with a forced smile.

“I always seem to fall for those who have already fallen...for someone else it seems.” The overwhelming sadness was threatening to overtake you once more. You didn’t want to cry...not in front of him. Not after this wonderful pick me up, the feel of the beskar against you, all you wanted to do was rest your head on his shoulder and dance the rest of the night away.

“-Are you...are you in love with somebody right now?” The daring request shocked you. Sure, you had learnt a lot about Din tonight, you knew you refused to tell him your true feelings in the past but...you couldn’t seem to lie to him in this moment. This bittersweet yet perfect moment.

“...Yes.” The force of air that left your lips was inhuman in a way...like you had stopped breathing. At this point you hadn’t even realised how effortlessly you had been dancing with the Mandalorian. Not until he brought you to a complete stop, the music carrying on through the wind.

“I...I think that despite how often I tried to remind myself that love wasn’t in the cards for me...that I wasn’t worth that kind of sacrifice...I fell in love. What I didn’t expect was for it to hurt...Din, it hurts so kriffing much and I don’t know what to do because I don’t want to leave you and the kid so I can run away from the pain.” You were crying now...brilliant.

“Why? Why would you talk about leaving? Ever?” You could hear his breathing now, it was heavy and gasping, like he had been dunked in ice cold water. You hated to imagine the look on his face that went with the sound of his voice. It broke your heart all over again.

“Because Din...I fell in love with you and I didn’t even think twice about it. About how you could go on a job and not come back, you could get killed right in front of me, leaving me to care for the kid alone or...or you could already be in love with someone else.” A sob bubbled up into your chest and it pained you to keep it there...not as much as this though.

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Omera!”

The scream of this dragged itself around the edges of the Razor Crest, leaving you a heaving mess due to the effort. Through the tears you realised you had ripped yourself away from him, his hands were held in mid air...he was reaching out for you.

“I’m...I’m not in love with Omera.”

His voice pierced your heart in the complete opposite result of tonight’s events.

“What?” This time you were completely and utterly confused, tears beginning to dry. Slowly, the Mandalorian approached you, noticing the way he wrung his hands it was obvious...he was nervous.

“Do you know what ‘Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum’ means cyar’ika?” At the nickname he frequently called you, your heart warmed despite your lack of knowledge towards Mando’a.

“No? ...But why do I feel like I’ve heard those words before.” Crinkling your forehead in confusion, you wracked your brain for where you had heard those words before. You may not know what they mean but you knew they were important. Infinitely important.

“...Probably because I’ve said them before.” His helmet was hanging now, the lip of it pressed against his chest as he stared at his own feet.

“...Din, please tell me what they mean.” Stepping closer to him this time, you pressed your hands to his chest. Refusing to meet your gaze, the quiet intensified by tenfold, loaded with tension.

“Din Djarin...please.” Resting a hand on the cheek of his helm, you raised his head so he knew how serious you were.

“They mean…’I hold you in my heart forever’...it’s the Mandalorian way of saying I love you.” He may have whispered these powerful words but it felt like he had stolen your breath. You wanted to kiss him, gods above you did. Instead, his arms wrapped around you once more and he pressed the forehead of his helm to yours.

“How could you ever think I was in love with something else when I’ve only ever had eyes for you? I’ve been pining after you for months on end, wondering if there was even a possibility that you could love someone like me in return.” These words may have been softly spoken but they scorched a way into your heart as you pressed against him in return.

“Din Djarin, a fearless bounty hunter and Mandalorian...do I make you nervous?” You joked a blush still fresh on your features.

“...Extremely cyar’ika.” Biting your lip once more, a pleasant sensation rang through your body at the sound of his voice lowering.

“Are you ever going to tell me what that one means?” Fluttering your eyelashes up at him, you attempted to flirt.

“Darling, sweetheart.”

“That was two different words?”

“It means either and both at the same time. Mando’a is complicated.” He shrugged under your palms.

“What about...cyare?” You tested the word on your tongue only to gain a shiver under your fingertips. Knowing that Din felt the same way made you the happiest person on Sorgan. But learning that your words affected him just as much as his bewitched you? It sent stars into your brain.

“Beloved.”

At the dangerously low pitch he emitted, you knew you were in for a long night.

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Honey & Velvet - Part 6

A/N: We love a little cat and mouse game, don’t we? Either way, enjoy. Once you get to the end, you’ll know what happens next chapter ;) If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know, and as always, feedback and comments are always welcome! xx

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: none really, sexual tension (dot dot dot)

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

After Maxwell had left your office, you gave it a few moments before storming out and attempting to track him down and to make him atone for what he had just done. But he was long gone; your mind had taken just enough time to make its mind up to give him an easy escape. Sighing, your shoulders slumped as you let ran a hand through your hair in exasperation.

“Y/N?” you were snapped back into reality by the sound of Adina’s concerned voice, as she looked up at you with a confused expression etched on her features. Plastering on the best smile you could muster, one most accurately described as your customer service best, you feigned innocence, “what the hell was that?”

“What do you mean?” your voice was about an octave higher than normal as you turned to go back to your office, “where did he go?”

“Mhmm?” she’d already pointedly made the decision not to question you, especially as of late and her focus was already back on her paperwork.

“Maxwell,” you hissed through gritted teeth, loathing the bit of longing that seemed to seep its way into his name, “where did Maxwell Lord go?”

“Oh,” she peered up at your over her glasses, trying her best to keep off the little smirk that threatened to bubble up. She was slowly, but surely, putting two and two together. Not that it was particularly difficult at this point, subtly wasn’t your (or Maxwell’s) specialty, “he asked for directions to the restroom as he was leaving. Dunno where he went after that.”

You inhaled sharply at the revelation, inadvertently picturing him in your mind. You could imagine him stalking into the secluded bathroom, locking the door behind him as leaned against the cool tile of the wave, taking care of the…small problem you had created. You wondered what he sounded like while he worked himself to the point of no return, if he was vocal, if your name rolled off his lips as he spilled into his hand.

But no.

You couldn’t (and wouldn’t) dwell on that idea too much. If you did, you might completely lose any sense of self collection that remained and resort to doing the same thing to yourself. Biting the inside of your cheek to control yourself, you gave her a swift nod before stepping back inside your office and slamming the door.

The nerve. The absolute nerve of that man to walk into your office and pull such a stunt. But…then again, perhaps it was only fair after what happened over the weekend. It had been an accident, more or less, but it you weren’t quite sure that it warranted the little assault he had just committed. To stand him up outside of the boardroom was one thing, a light snub at best, but for him to make it personal and come into your office like a loose cannon? That was a whole different story.

But you had kissed him first.

That was besides the point you reminded yourself. You never would have pushed yourself on him like that if he hadn’t started it. You were…just trying to finish things.

Sure. You could live with that interpretation of things, even though it was only half true at best.

You flopped down in your chair and sighed. It was going to be hard to focus on anything else for the remainder of the day. All you could think about were his lips on yours, all over your chest, how they’d felt surprisingly…soft. Gentle even. And right. You’d half expected him to be as decent of a kisser as a limp fish, but he was pleasantly good. He knew his way around your body already. Maybe you’d just been desperate?

That must have been it. But it couldn’t have been desperation…could it? You’d been getting plenty of attention lately, mainly from Ben, who you were surprisingly on good terms with for once, so you weren’t exactly touch starved at the moment. So that meant…it really could have only left one reasonable answer.

Absolutely not. At least that’s what you told yourself in your head. You were not attracted to the spoiled brat of a man that sported last season’s suits and had hair the color of decaying corn. There was absolutely nothing attractive about him; you’d rather admit you found a squished slug handsome before you said the same about Maxwell Lord.

And yet…he was the one your thoughts kept drifting back to. He was the you thought about as you had brought yourself to orgasm late at night; his name was the only you allowed yourself to whisper. It was his ring clad hand that had been around your throat, turning you on much more than you thought about possible.

“Fuck,” you sighed at yourself, at your foolishness, under your breath. Tossing your head back, you stared at the messy pattern of the cork on your office ceiling, hoping it would provide you with some sort of answer. But it didn’t; instead you stared and stared, and the longer you looked, the more it felt like it was mocking you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your reflection in the mirror, the same one Maxwell had stood in front of not long before. Pulling yourself up, you walked over to it, and started to fix your hair. It was a mess, locks out of place and wild, but you made swift work of straightening it back and making it look semi decent. Not like you’d just been on your back practically begging a man to fuck you.

The buttons on your blouse were mismatched, once again, a common theme in your life lately. Shaking your head at yourself you completely undid the whole thing and let it hang open for a moment, studying the upper half of your torso. The delicate skin of your breasts, collarbones and neck were flushed still, and the ghosts of bites and nibbles were already popping up, colorful hues of blue and purple. That fucker had really done a number in such a short period of time. While you rued how hard it would be to cover up in the coming days, sure they would attract some unwanted attention…you weren’t as mad as you though you would be.

They served as a reminder that while you had been the one who initiated the fervent slew of kisses, he’d been just as eager. He’s been just as eager to touch you, to feel your soft skin, to finally kiss you. Your soft moans had been like sweet music to ears, and will he would have gladly taken you then and there, he’d done everything in his power to hold back. And it had been a huge struggle, but somehow he’d managed. But still…he’d kissed you. He hadn’t fought you off, or completely denied you. That had to count for something, right?

Just a taste for now. It would have to satiate both of you for now. That’s what he reminded himself while his hands had been all over your body. Just a taste.

The rewards of him waiting, restraining himself would be the sweetest reward of all. At least that’s what he figured.

You slowly put yourself back together, making sure the buttons of your blouse were aligned, an irritated groan living your lips as the phone on your desk began to ring. You weren’t in the mood to speak to anyone earlier, you most certainly weren’t in the mood to speak to anyone now.

Before picking it up, you let out a small fuck, fuck, fuck of frustration. Hopefully this wouldn’t take long and you could go back to the afternoon of daydreaming you now had planned.

“Yes?” it sounded more defeated than you cared to admit.

“I’ve got Ben for you, if you’re available,” Adina’s tone was colored with bemusement, almost as if she knew the exact predicament you were in. Hells, she probably did. Half of your office probably did by now, “and uh, he wanted me to specifically mention that it was just business related.”

“Of course,” you turned to sit back and kicked your legs up on your desk, “go ahead and put him through.”

“Is…everything okay, boss?” she was desperate for you to spill more details but wasn’t about to push…not more than necessary anyway, “it seems like you’ve been…preoccupied lately.”

“If only that was the half of it,” you rubbed your brow, “men are a tricky situation.”

“That’s why I only date women,” she joked and you had to admit it had its own appeal, “but don’t let me influence your decision. Men always say that women are so complicated, but I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around.”

“I concur wholeheartedly,” you laughed quietly, “I guess I’d better talk to Ben and see what he wants.”

“Good luck,” she snorted with laughter before you heard the click of a button and Ben was on the other line. You heard about half a breath before you could practically see the smirk on his face.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Benjamin?” you couldn’t even lie and say you were annoyed to hear from him. After you’d reached your little…whatever you wanted to call it, you felt better. Like you could actually maintain a civil friendship with him, “okay wait, how bad and sarcastic did that sound?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“Hit me.”

“I’d wager a solid eight,” he laughed as you groaned, “I don’t take these things personally. I’m not offended, and my heart will go on.”

“Ahh, what a man,” you let some silence hang in the air for a moment, drumming your fingers along on edge of your desk, “what’s up?”

“I have a favor to ask,” he admitted and it was your turn to laugh at him, “it’s nothing big, but I’d appreciate your help.”

“Alright, alright, I suppose that’s only fair,” you had zero clue as to what he could need help with you. He seemed like the type of guy that had it all handled, that wouldn’t dare to ask for help, “what’s this favor then?”

“I have a gala I need to attend this Friday,” he explained and you leaned forward in your seat, trying to figure out what he was getting at, “our company is one of the sponsors for the center that’s throwing the gala and therefore its prudent that we attend and I realize it will likely be a dull affair and-”

“Ben,” you cut him off mid sentence before he could stammer on further, “you’re rambling. Please cut to the chase.”

“Will you be my date to the gala?” it was a rushed question, and it caught you off guard. You hadn’t been out in public with Ben in what seemed like eons; your first concern was what would people think? But then again…did it really matter what they thought? No. No one’s opinion mattered, not as long as you were satisfied with the truth, “please?”

“You want to be seen in public with me?” you joked, almost immediately having made up your mind, already trying to think of what dress you would wear.

“You make it sound like torture. Is the idea that repulsive to you?” you could tell he was joking, but there was a small part of him that was wondering if you were actually going to say yes.

“Oh the contrary,” you reassured him and there was a small sigh of relief on the other end, “I’ll go with you. I’ll be your date.”

“Perfect-”

“On one condition,” of course there was a stipulation attached.

“Name it.”

“Friends only,” you insisted. You wanted to set clear boundaries, to make sure he knew that you weren’t interested in anything else with him, “no sex. No…whatever else. And we don’t even pretend it’s a date.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed. You were a reasonable woman for the most part and it was a condition he could easily agree to, “saving yourself for someone else? Mr. Lord perhaps?”

“Oh my - goodbye, Ben,” you wanted to work that little smirk you knew was on his face off. He chuckled on the other end, clearly pleased with his little comment, “this is over for now. Send me details and I’ll see you Friday night.”

“So I was right-”

“Goodbye Ben-”

“You didn’t say no!”

“Ben,” you slammed the phone back into the cradle and let out a long sigh. Well, at least you had plans for a Friday night instead of moping around at home. Plus it would give you an opportunity to go and dress up. Now that was something you could get behind. Even if you were picky when it came to men, you liked to give them something to look at. They could always look but couldn’t touch.

Besides, despite how much you tried to fight it, you knew you were on the prowl for someone else. You knew, at one point or another, things would come to a head and one of you would fully snap. You didn’t know when, or where, but something deep within you knew that it would happened.

And you vowed to break Maxwell Lord before he could break you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was too much. You knew it was as soon as you had spotted it hanging on the rack at Bergdorf Goodman’s. Ben had told that the affair would be formal, but not overly so, and had insisted that whatever you had at home would probably suffice.

When you’d glanced through your closet, nothing had struck your fancy, nothing screamed pick me, pick me. Even though it didn’t really matter, and you’d be most likely spend the evening a space full of older people who would gloss you over, you still wanted…something special. You’d all but slammed your closet doors shut and made up your mind to go shopping. There was nothing but disappoint to be found in several stores, but at one of your last stops, you had found it. The dress you had been searching for, despite not being consciously aware of it.

But something, deep within you had caused you to gravitate towards the glittering gown. Something even more primal had compelled you to purchase it. You didn’t even bother to try it on, not wanting to waste time in the overly posh store and feel the judgment of the aging women that worked the registers. They were often the worst; they’d try and up sell the most expensive things and then call you a two bit whore as soon as you left.

But with this, you didn’t care. You knew all eyes would be on you and for one you night, you welcomed it.

By the time Ben had arrived to pick you up, you were looking at yourself in the mirror, topping your look off with the oxblood red color. It was indescribably eye catching and hung on your frame perfectly. It was a strappy number, pale pink in color, and glittering at every angle. It left very little to the imagination, but was just enough to be socially appropriate. You, honestly, weren’t planning on getting anything out of this whole evening. You just wanted to feel good…sexy even. That wasn’t a crime after all, right?

“Holy shit…” Ben let out a sigh somewhere between exasperation and pleasure as he met you at his car when the time. Flashing him an innocent smile, you slid into the backseat and followed suit, “I’m pretty sure I mentioned that this was…casual, more or less?”

“You did,” you admitted, feigning innocence, “but you can never be overdressed, can you?”

“I suppose not,” he shook his head, but gave you a gentle nudge with his knee, “if you’re not going to be the death of me, you’ll probably break a few necks when the old geezers get a look at you.”

“Tragic,” you put a hand on your forehead and sighed dramatically.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Conversation with Ben was pleasant, and by the time you arrived, you were feeling strangely at ease. That was until the valet helped you out of the car and you surveyed the swarm of other guests that were in attendance that evening. There were more people than you had anticipated, and a fair number that didn’t look over the hill.

But then your eyes landed on one particular guest, and your heart nearly stopped, plummeting into the bottom of your stomach. It couldn’t be…could it? Of all the people in all the world that had to be there, it had to be him; the golden haired man that had been haunting your every waking thought for the last several weeks.

Ben was behind you, attempting to straighten his bow tie when he noticed your sudden hesitation, the tension in your shoulders, and grim expression on your face, “what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen-”

“Maxwell Lord?” you sighed as your turned back to him, raising an eyebrow in question, “yeah, because I did. What the hell is he doing here?!”

“I-I had no clue,�� he insisted, looking around as he tried to spot him in the crowd. His face turned into a mask of worry and confusion; you knew he was being honest. Ben was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar, and you knew he’d never do something that low to you, “I swear it. If I had known he’d be here, I never would have asked you to come.”

“Ben, sorry, it’s just…” you trailed off as you tried to figure out how to convey exactly what you were feeling to him. How were you supposed to explain, and appear rational and sane, to someone that while you loathed Maxwell (more or less), you also harbored a deep, burning desire for him?

“Do you want to go?” he put his hand on the small of your back, almost as if trying to shield from you being seen.

“No, really, it’ll be fine. I’ll suck it up and deal with it,” you promised, linking you arm through his, “but if you see him anywhere near me, warn me so I can run and hide.”

“Running from your demons?”

“Oh no,” you insisted, “Maxwell isn’t my demon…he’s something much more…I can’t describe.”

“Yeah,” Ben agreed, a little smirk on his face, as he started to lead you inside, “that sounds about right. What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself in, silly girl?”

“I wish I knew the half of it,” you sighed heavily, “I wish I knew.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

The evening had been going…surprisingly well. You’d managed to avoid your friend finding solace in tucking yourself behind Ben and remaining out of the center of attention. Normally you’d be out and mingling, enjoying the free flowing champagne and good company. But this evening - you remained almost silent, and pretty much as sober as you were quiet. Being the kind gentleman he was, Ben had promised you both make an exit as soon as it became socially acceptable. To say you were counting down the minutes would have been an understatement.

“I’m going to the ladies’ room,” you whispered into Ben’s ear, hoping for a quick there and back trip. He turned and gave you a nod, a questioning look on his face.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“It’ll be fine,” you promised, giving his hand a squeeze of reassurance, “it’s the ladies room after all, I think it’d be foolish for anyone to try anything there.”

He nodded as you walked away, keeping your eyes training on the floor so you didn’t draw too much attention to yourself. It was difficult with your current state of dress however; maybe you should have stuck to something more simple and muted.

But just before you could reach the reprieve of the privacy of the rest room, you felt a hand on your forearm, trying to stop you and get your attention. You froze in silent horror as you instantly knew who it was. You thought about yanking your arm out of grasp and running away, but instead, you remained there, waiting for his next move. It was all up to him now. Tugging on your hand slowly, you allowed him to turn you around so you were facing him. For once you were surprised to find an almost pleasant expression on his face.

“Miss L/N,” his voice was dripping with honey as he gave you the once over, taking in the dress and how it looked on you. To say it was a pleasing sight to him was a far cry from the truth, “you look positively…stunning.”

For once you didn’t feel like you needed to make a smart remark or give him some sort of witty push back, “Maxwell. Thank you.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here this evening,” he dropped your hand and crossed his arms over his broad chest, leaning against wall of the quiet hallway. You were both thankful that no one was around and you were more or less secluded, but part of you wished that Ben was there. Maybe you should have let him come.

“I could say the same for you,” you gave him your most dazzling smile as you got ready to turn around and head into the bathroom. You were definitely going to need a breather after that. You already felt hot and flushed from the most minute of touches.

“Here with Mr. Vasquez again,” he commented and you stopped, shrugging your shoulders.

“He’s a friend,” you insisted, feeling the need to prove yourself, like you somehow needed him to understand that. Why? Why did it really matter at the end of the day what Maxwell Lord thought?

“A friend,” he remained unconvinced, tilting his head slightly, only working to anger you further. He just had such a way about him, “and does your friend knew what happened to your neck?”

Your hand instinctively went to the flesh of your throat as you trailed a few fingers over it. The marks he had left all over you had been fading throughout the week, but a few particularly stubborn ones had proven to be a monumental challenge to try and cover. They were still peeking through every so slightly.

“He hasn’t asked and I haven’t volunteered the information,” you narrowed your eyes at him and he let out a soft laugh, “does that amuse you so?”

“Indeed it does,” he took a step closer and suddenly there was very little space between the two of you. You could smell his warm cologne, and tried to look anywhere but him, but your eyes found his. Somehow you were still just as drawn to him know as you had always had been, “you practically throw yourself at me and then hide it? What a shame.”

“You weren’t exactly fighting me off,” you reminded him as nodded slowly. He brought a hand to your face and ran his thumb over your cheekbone. Your breath hitched at the surprisingly gentle touch, “y-you want this just as much as me.”

“I do,” he admitted and you felt a small victory run through your veins at his revelation. He did want you, which he had made very clear, but hearing it like was…something else. It was like you’d just established some sort of common ground. He leaned closer and your lips were inches apart, if you leaned forward even slightly you’d be able to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him, every part of you was desperate to feel his touch again, “do you have any clue how hard it is coming here and seeing you look like that? How everyone’s eyes are on you?”

“Maybe,” you smirked slightly, wetting your lips as you stared at him, “and what about it?”

“I want to rip out the heart of every single man whose eyes have lingered on you, even if it was just a moment too long,” his large hand was on your cheek, lips pressed to you ear as he dropped his voice so only you could hear. It sent a delightful shiver down your spine in both wicked anticipation and a slight bit of fear.

“Oh?” you teased, turning your head ever so slightly to press the faintest of kisses to his cheek, “and just what are you doing to about it, Maxwell?”

“I’ll make sure everyone knows who you belong to you,” he trailed a few kisses along your jaw before stopping at your lips and staring into your eyes. You felt like he could see into your soul, and suddenly you didn’t feel like the strong, confident woman you had been playing at all night; you felt vulnerable and weak. Letting out a soft breath, you finally managed to regain some composure.

“And just who do I belong to?” you knew what he was saying, what he was attempting to get at, but you still wanted to hear it from his mouth. He put his hands on either side of your face, keeping your gaze trained on it; it was firm and commanding, but not too harsh or rough.

“You are mine,” he stated and you slowly found yourself nodding in acquiescence. You were his; he had instilled something in you that kept pulling you back in long ago. And here you were, at the precipice of giving into him, “and everyone will know it.”

Where was the brat that you wanted to be? Where was the woman that vowed she would not bow, bend, or break to the will of one man? Where the was the woman that would never give into Maxwell Lord?

You didn’t know her. At least not in the moment. At least not when the familiar fluttering had started in your belly and the throbbing between your legs increased.

He brought his hand to your throat and pressed ever so slightly, causing your lips to part with a surprised gasp. Then, in a surprisingly intimate gesture, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours, a contented sound leaving his mouth, “say it. I need to hear you say it. Who do you belong to?”

“You,” you agreed quietly, “I am yours.”

And then he crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you with a hunger and urgency than you had never felt before. And you…gave in. Just like that, just like you had been wanting to you, even if you were loathe to admit to yourself.

But just like that, you were all for him.

So you kissed him back, and wrapped your arms his neck, relinquishing control to him. It was frenzied tango, slowly crescendoing into something more, and you were so lost in what you were doing, you didn’t even remember where you were or what you had originally intended on doing. Until someone cleared their throat, and you pulled apart, pushing Maxwell away from you.

“I was wondering what happened to you,” Ben’s face was a mixture of surprise and concern as he spotted you. Once you’d been gone for some time he’d come going for you, just to make sure you were okay, “is…everything alright?”

“Ben,” you just knew you must have looked a sight but tried to play it off, “I…ugh, yes, everything’s fine.”

“I can see that,” he snorted lightly with laughter and Maxwell tried to smooth out his suit, “I’ll just wait for you and we can leave whenever you want.”

“Actually,” you surprised even yourself with your next words, “you can go without me. I’ll…be okay.”

Max raised an eyebrow at you, but kept his expression neutral as Ben gawked but nodded, giving you a small wave before turning the corner and heading out. You didn’t need to expand further.

“Are you…sure about this?” he searched your face as if to make sure you were positive. As much of an asshole as he could be, he wasn’t going to take this any further without you being fully willing. You turned to him and nodded, biting your lower lip.

“Yes,” you said as you turned to him, “I want this. I want you.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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xplrerdolan · 4 years

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐆𝐔𝐘 [ 𝘊𝘖𝘓𝘉𝘠 𝘉𝘙𝘖𝘊𝘒 ]

⤬ SUMMARY: Colby thinks he may have met the one. Amber is everything he’s ever wanted; he’s never been so in love before, he’s sure of it. And then he meets you—and suddenly, Amber’s once shining colors seem so dull. He knows it’s wrong, but the more he resists you, the more he wants you—and the more he hates himself for it. ➝ NOTE: this fic is written from Colby’s perspective.

⤬ WARNINGS: cisfem!reader, adultery, swearing, consumption of alcohol [reckless; in excess], smut, unprotected sex

⤬ WORD COUNT: 4.5k

⤬ DISCLAIMER: this is a work of fiction. i do not condone the act of cheating, and in no way is this fic meant to glorify or promote adultery.

pinterest aesthetic board // spotify playlist

❋ ❋ ❋

I loved Amber—love her. I swear. Everything from her auburn hair and honey-brown eyes. She dazzled me when we first met, and I want to believe that those feelings are still there. They're just buried... really, really deep.

It was killing me; she was killing me, slowly and torturously. With her claws impaled in my ribs, still sinking, threatening to own every part of me—down to my last breath.

It was getting bad. Or maybe that's just what I'm telling myself to provide me some sense of comfort. "Getting bad" was an understatement; even "getting worse" didn't do it justice. The other night, I did something terrible—so far beyond bad or worse that my stomach clenched every time I thought about it.

For the first time in weeks, Amber and I got intimate. I wanted to remind myself of who I had fallen in love with a year ago. I wanted to pull myself out of the mess I'd made; I wanted to pull Amber right back into my arms and lock her there tight.

We fucked in the dark—my first mistake. My second: I fucked her from behind. Hearing her moans, which normally drove me wild, was making me soft inside her. I didn't give her time to notice. I did the only thing I could do. I twirled her hair around my fingers and pulled her back, lifting her upper body off the mattress toward me. I brought my other hand to her mouth and silenced her. She perceived this as an act of dominance, not of shame.

I screwed my eyes up tight and thought of her. The mere memory of her sent blood coursing through my groin again, making me rock-hard inside of Amber. I focused on the wisps of her image that flashed through my mind as I chased my orgasm so it could all be over.

In the midst of my euphoria, I nearly called out her name—[Y/N]. I felt it teasing the tip of my tongue before I swallowed it forcefully, her name swelling in my throat and choking me. Tears rose to my eyes and I pulled out of Amber quickly, the evidence of my crime mocking me from inside the condom. I pulled it off me in disgust, flinging it towards the trash can and probably missing.

Amber—bless her heart—started to comfort me. "Baby, don't worry," she said softly, pulling my hands away from my face. "Don't be so hard on yourself. It's been a while. I didn't expect you to last long. Besides, I enjoyed myself while it did."

Her smile was so sweet. It took everything in me to not break down right there. I pulled her in for a tight hug to hide my face. I held my breath until the burning feeling in my nose went away and my tears dried. I kissed her cheek, fighting the bile rising in my throat as I did so. It's not that she disgusted me—I disgusted myself.

Without a word I stood from the bed and went to the shower. I turned the tap all the way to the left, the water quickly becoming scalding hot. I forced myself to stand under it, my back arching away from the heat as it assaulted my body. I grimaced as I endured my self-inflicted punishment, grabbing a bar of soap and scrubbing at my skin desperately. I wanted to wash her away. I wanted to remove the layer of skin she corrupted. Twenty minutes and half a bar of soap later, I resigned myself to the fact that it wasn't working. When I stepped out of the shower, my skin was a stark red.

I tried to remember all the pain of that night as I drove to her house for what I promised myself would be the last time.

❋

I didn't tell her that I was going over there to talk. I just told her I was coming over. To be completely honest, I told her instead of asking to feel like I had some control over the situation knowing I didn't. From the moment I'd met her, she had me wrapped around her finger, tucked neatly under that silver and amethyst ring she wore on her left middle finger—the one I'd first complimented her on when we met.

My fingers curled around the steering wheel in response to the flood of memories from that night; her little black dress, shamelessly flaunting her body; her body, the source of my hypnosis, my obsession. Even among a slew of memories I wish I'd never made, I savored the image of her body—covered, uncovered; coated in sweat as we fucked in the backseat of my car, drenched in water as I fucked her against the tile walls in her shower.

That night, she'd walked right up to me and snatched the red-solo cup right out of my hands before taking a long, deep drink from it. In fact, she drained it. The amethyst in her ring glittered as she handed my cup back to me, and since I was already pretty drunk, I didn't pay any mind to the sheer audacity of her careless, crass actions. Looking back on it now made me puff out a dry laugh and shake my head at myself. Our very first interaction was a red flag—[Y/N] took what she wanted when she wanted, and once she got what she wanted, she discarded what she didn't.

If I could go back, I'd say, "Get the fuck away from me." But hindsight is 20/20, and that's not what I said. On my way to incoherence at the hand of alcohol, I slurred at her, "Ni—cool, uh... thingy."

Couldn't decide on an adjective, couldn't remember the noun. Completely helpless in her presence from the first moment. And just like every other time she left me helpless, she just giggled at me for it. She found it funny, the effect she had on everyone around her. Everyone—men, women, nonbinary people, regardless of their sexuality or how attracted they were to her sexually. Every person she touched or talked to or smiled at was instantly inclined to like her. She was the kind of person who made you insecure in your own desirability—not just sexually, but whether people desired to be around you, and if people desired to be your friend. She was the kind of person you craved approval from. You could beg her for it with your eyes, try to get her to say it out loud, but she never budged. She left you hanging, dangling in front of her judiciary stare.

Imagine what happens when a person like that decides she wants more than just the drink in your cup? more than the shirt off your back? more than what you have to give? Here I am, the remnants of an answer.

She informed me that the thingy on her finger was a ring. She held her hand out, fingers sprawled, palm down. Innocently (ignorantly) I held her fingers in mine and gently twisted them, just barely turning them to the left and right, to watch the crystal glitter. Its edges were jagged, the rock as sharp and raw as her sense of humor. I traced the swirls of smoky purple with my eyes, squinting to really focus.

She humored me as I was clearly very drunk. She was feeling the buzz from the drink she'd stolen from me, and she was keen to catch up. When Tara, who had brought her to the party, walked up to her with a cup filled one-third of the way with brown liquor, which I could see from the shadow against the plastic, she was only too happy to take it with her free hand and immediately chug its contents. Rather than cringing from the taste, she stood before me with her eyes closed, humming. I stared at her in awe, my attention ripped away from her shiny ring while my fingers were still wrapped around hers. I only snapped back to reality when she pulled her hand from mine and gently pushed up against my chin to make me close my mouth.

After my mouth was closed, her fingers lingered on my skin, and subtly—quick enough for no one else to notice—she trailed her thumb over my bottom lip. She told me later that she liked the way it always made me look a little pouty, even when I smile. I had a feeling it only did that around her—when I was reduced to a beggar.

Stopped at a red light, I looked into the rear-view mirror and examined my lower lip. I ran my fingers over it, exactly where hers had been, and heaved a sigh through my nose. I could never look at my own lips the same way again.

I remember that I'd tried to tell her I had a girlfriend; I'd giggled it out, sounding like a little boy about to do something his mom had told him not to. Rather than backing off, she only seemed that much more interested. She didn't like being told she couldn't have something. And she'd take it anyway, just to prove she could, just to spite the rules.

She got off on the idea of making a loyal man disloyal. Whether it was to prove there was no such thing as a loyal man or to prove that she could get anyone she wanted no matter the circumstance, I don't even think she could say. It might be a little bit of both.

As I pulled onto her street, I solemnly admitted to myself that she'd done more than prove both, even with me walking away today. Walking away today didn't negate that I'd walked toward her before. The memory of the first time I met her was often revisited with anger; anger directed at her. Until now, I'd blamed her for my actions. But she hadn't been in that bedroom a few nights ago. She hadn't replaced Amber with herself, I did.

I knocked on her door twice. She called back to give her a second, and I could hear her music playing in the background. When she reached the door, she swung it open and posed in the doorway.

An involuntary whine came from the back of my throat, feeling briefly lightheaded as the blood in my body redirected south. I peered down at her over the bridge of my nose as if tipping my head away from her would make her any less irresistible.

She stood before me, dressed only in lingerie. The lacy ensemble was a bright cherry red, the color stark against her beautiful skin. The bralette cupped her breasts as if it were made for her body—and knowing [Y/N]'s tastes, it probably was made for her. The lace detailing continued down over her ribs, and a satin bow rested at the base of her cleavage. The matching panties came up to her waist, and a bow matching the one on her bra sat just under her bellybutton. They were incredibly simple, but her beauty and grace made them seem intricate and complex. What really killed me was the matching sheer boudoir robe, with its satin belt tied around her waist, emphasizing her curves, and its faux-fur trim surrounding her like a demonic aura.

She took my resistance for teasing, giggling at me—or maybe she could see right through me, and she knew I was desperately trying to resist her. And maybe she planned to dress as she had just to ruin me.

But truthfully, that's exactly what it did. And because I'd already accepted that I was a pathetic, weak bastard, I let my resolve crumble. One last time, I thought firmly. One last time and then it's over.

I brought my left hand to her waist, the satin belt feeling like heaven against my fingertips, and pushed her back into her foyer and shut her door, pretending for the moment that she was mine. She was mine and she wanted me as much as I wanted her, and she didn't want anyone else.

My hands moved up to cup her face, my thumbs tracing over her jawline. My eyes roamed her face freely, looking over her features as though I hadn't memorized them already, as if they weren't stained on the backs of my eyelids. Her gaze steadily met mine, a twinkle dancing in her eyes like she knew just how much power she had over me. She knew how weak I was for her.

For fuck's sake, she hadn't even touched me yet and I was already drunk on her. She'd left me breathless with just a look; she'd stolen whatever fragmented sense of control I had left without so much as a "hello."

Somewhere between wallowing in self-hatred and drowning in lust, I pressed my lips against hers, welcoming the sweet torture. Her lips felt softer than the satin draped over her waist. My hands started exploring her body, pushing past her robe to grab at her ass over her panties. While the feeling of it was enough to send a thrill through my lower abdomen, nothing brought me more euphoria than hearing her respond to my touch.

Her moans sent me out of my body; the only thing I cared about was her pleasure and being the source of it. My fingers pushed the red lace to the side before properly gripping the plump flesh, massaging it gently the way I knew she liked. It pleased her enough to earn her fingers raking through my hair, tugging on the little hairs at the base of my neck to make me whine.

It pained me that she had found that sensitive spot of mine in the few weeks we'd been sneaking around while Amber still hadn't found it after a year. My eyebrows knitted together, and I pulled [Y/N] tighter against my body, savoring these last moments of true satisfaction. The friction between our bodies made me harder than Amber had made me in months. Among the embers of my burning lust flared the searing heat of self-hatred; indulging in her made me a masochist to my own sadism.

I guided her backward through her hallways, the route all too familiar. We stumbled into her bedroom, making sure to lock the door—hiding from even the pictures on the wall.

On a less significant day, I'd be ravishing her. But, as I reminded myself sternly, this would be the last day I spent with her—I had to savor it. Despite telling myself that over and over again, the reality of it hit me hard at that moment. I felt myself choke on the emotion, my body betraying me as I felt tears prick at my eyes.

I refused to allow [Y/N] to see it. I turned her around, facing away from me, and gathered myself. While I calmed myself down, I slowly trailed my fingers over her sheer robe from her wrist up to her shoulders, raising goosebumps along her skin. I focused all of my energy on disrobing her, not letting a fraction of my attention slip elsewhere—especially not toward inconvenient, intrusive emotions.

My hands moved to caress the bare skin of her chest, just above her gorgeous breasts. They traveled south over her bust and then settled on the delicate bow holding the garment together. I undid the bow gently, taking my time loosening it. I could tell she wanted me to hurry—she sighed and pressed herself against me—but, just this once, I was going to indulge myself first.

I shushed her softly, drawing the sound out as I brought my mouth next to her ear. I whispered to her, "I'm going to take my sweet time having my way with you today."

She shivered against me, my breath fanning over her sensitive skin tickling it just right. She chuckled softly, an amused smile stretching over her face. She then clicked her tongue and cast a gaze over her shoulder, considering me briefly. Apparently, she decided to play along; her body relaxed against me, allowing me to control the pace.

I carried on with my actions, pulling the garment off at a painstakingly slow pace before draping it over a chair in the corner of her room. Her stillness made her look statuesque; I wouldn't be surprised if she turned to stone right before me, proving to be some artist's rendition of perfection.

"Lay down for me, on your back," I ordered.

She complied. If I didn't know any better, I might feel like I had some control over her, like she was naturally submissive. But the truth was [Y/N] merely allowed others to feel dominant; we both knew it was me who followed her, not the other way around. But for the moment, it was nice that the cat humored her mouse.

I crawled across the bed, pausing to hover over her and steal a kiss. Before I pulled away, she tugged at my shirt by the hem, wordlessly commanding me to remove it. I pulled it over my head by the neck, tossing it haphazardly to the floor. I leaned over her again, my hands on either side of her head, my arms outstretched.

She trailed her nails softly over my arms—always careful to not leave marks—before resting them on the back of my neck, pulling me down toward her again. She kissed me then like I'd never been kissed before: with a gentle passion, a soft intensity. She must have known—somehow, she must've.

When she pulled away from me, I lingered above her with my eyes closed, still processing the complex emotions she stirred in me. As I contemplated this, she pressed another kiss to my lips, this time quick and succinct, a little peck. It was enough to ground me back in reality.

I moved down her body, trailing open-mouthed kisses across her skin. I watched as her chest began to rise and fall faster the closer I got to her core, feeling more pleasure from causing her arousal than I'd felt in my entire relationship with Amber.

I situated myself between her legs, scooping my arms under them so they rested on my shoulders. She shot me a confused glance as I had yet to remove her panties, making me smirk. I blew softly over her covered core, a sensation that would do little more than tease her. She sighed again, a wry smile on her face. I was staying true to my word of taking my time with her.

I closed my mouth over her center, pressing my tongue against it to dampen the lace and taunt her with a feeling just on the cusp of pleasure. I sucked the cloth into my mouth, drenching it further, making sure it just barely grazed her most sensitive spot. She moaned, the sound a mix between pleasure and frustration. She ground her hips toward me, seeking more from me. I felt drunk on her desperation and wanted to feel more of it. I brought my hands to her hips and held them down, continuing her slow torture.

She balled her fists in the sheets, pouty moans falling past her lips. I felt her resist the pressure I placed on her hips, but I wasn't ready to give into her. I delivered a sharp, quick smack to her outer thigh. She gasped, relaxed into me, and let out a low moan.

After another minute of making her endure my teasing, I pushed myself up on my elbows to pull her panties off, earning a sigh of relief from her. I returned to my position and pressed kisses to her skin—along her thighs, in the crevices where her legs met her hips, and all over her mound. Finally, I kissed along her lower lips, starting at the very base and working my way up to the place she needed me most.

I settled my attention on her clit, slowly swirling my tongue around it, earning the tiniest moan from her. I then sucked the bundle of nerves into my mouth to further stimulate her, watching her back arch slightly and pull even harder at the sheets.

I couldn't stop watching her reactions. I felt myself growing impossibly harder at the sound of her moans, the head of my cock starting to throb. I lapped at her ambrosial juices, my tongue roaming the entirety of her pussy. She really started to squirm for me when I slipped my tongue into her, curling it up each time it entered her. After teasing her with my tongue, I brought it back to her clit and moved my left hand to finger her with my middle and ring fingers, sucking on the hardened bundle of nerves while my fingers pumped in and out of her.

At this point, her fingers were in my hair and her legs trembled around my head. She moaned my name in pleasure over and over, seemingly incapable of saying anything else. Her head was tipped back into the pillows, her back arched dramatically. I brought her closer and closer to her orgasm, my eyes trained on her writhing figure, enjoying the view immensely.

It didn't take long for her walls to start clenching around my fingers, a feeling that made my dick twitch in anticipation. I sped my fingers up, curling them up to tease the most sensitive part within her. Her voice broke off as she reached her peak, her hips grinding against my mouth desperately. My fingers worked through her high, slowing down as her body relaxed again. I lapped at her folds for a few moments longer, just enjoying the taste. When she looked down at me again, her eyes were filled with lust and affection.

When I crawled over her again, I pressed my lips against hers in a long, sensual kiss. I felt her push against my chest, wanting me to lay back so she could return the favor, but guilt weighed heavily in my stomach at the thought. As badly as I wanted it, I truly did not deserve it, and I would rather feel regret and longing than even deeper guilt. I chuckled into her mouth softly and shook my head.

"I can't wait any longer," I lied, pulling her bottom lip between my teeth. She moaned softly at my words, her nails scratching lightly over my chest.

I pulled away from her to finish undressing. I kept my eyes on hers, watching her reaction as my cock slapped against my lower abdomen, feeling a rush of lust as she subconsciously bit her lip. I attempted to crawl over her again, but she shook her head, sitting up.

"I wanna ride you," she purred. Another wave of lust washed over me, making me moan softly. I laid back against her pillows and watched her straddle me.

She leaned down to kiss me, grinding her dripping pussy over my shaft as she did so. A strangled moan escaped me; finally getting the attention I'd been craving was enough to make me quiver under her touch. She teased me like that for a while, working me up even more—the sweetest torture.

Finally, she allowed me to slip into her, my eyes rolling back into my skull at the feeling. She let out an erotic moan, the sound mixing with my own gasps of pleasure. I gripped her hips as she worked them over me. My eyes lazily trailed over her body, drinking in the sight of her gorgeous body.

She placed her hand under my chin and lifted my gaze up to meet hers. When our eyes locked, my heart stuttered in my chest. We held eye contact for a long moment, long enough that I felt myself unravel beneath her.

Then, she smirked down at me, a little giggle slipping past her lips. It was incredible how she could do so much to me while doing so little. I flipped our positions, surprising her, making her giggle more. I couldn't hold back a chuckle and a wide smile myself. I swooped down to kiss her before working my hips against hers, the feeling of her pussy around me making my mind go almost completely blank.

In fact, horrible as it was, the only thing on my mind was how much better it felt to be with [Y/N] than Amber.

I dipped my head down, biting marks into her neck—a luxury she could afford. She tugged on my hair, hard; it was the only thing she could do without leaving any evidence behind. I shut my eyes tight, trying to push the image and memory of Amber from my mind at this moment, focusing only on the woman underneath me.

I brought a hand up to grab a fistful of her hair, tugging on it to expose more of her neck to me. I sped up the rhythm of my thrusts, my teeth grazing against her sensitive skin. I felt my orgasm approaching, so I brought my thumb to her clit and rubbed it vigorously, wanting to feel her clench around me one last time.

I knew her body well enough to make it happen. Not even a minute later, the walls of her pussy fluttered around my cock, a stuttering, breathy moan escaping her. The way her legs trembled around me and her hips rolled up to meet mine sent me over the edge, making me cum harder than I'd ever cum before.

I rested inside of her after the fact, my head nestled in the crook of her neck. She played with my hair, humming contentedly as she gave me a moment to collect myself. When I finally did pull out of her, I reached over for the baby wipes she keeps on her nightstand, cleaning myself and her up carefully.

I laid back, opening my arms to her. She curled up next to me, laying her head on my chest. I stayed silent for a few moments, trying to enjoy my last few moments of peace for what they were—the calm before the storm.

When I took a deep breath, [Y/N] already knew what was coming. I explained my feelings to her in as little detail as possible—I was too ashamed to admit to her that I'd been replacing Amber with her in my mind, but I suspected she already knew.

I left her fifty bucks for a Plan B, kissed her once more, and left her house for the last time.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #series: where we go #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic

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uwua3 · 4 years

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request: “Hello!! Just found your blog and I'm excited to see what you got installed for us. On that note, can I request Azuma x Reader who was Azuma's former client but they developed into a serious relationship? Thank you so much and looking forward to the rest of your writing!! 😊😊😊” — @sakura-1819

summary: azuma always left before morning came, but all you wanted him to do was stay

warnings: slut–shaming, derogatory “cat calling/wolf whistle” culture, violence, arguments

author’s note: i want to apologize for the long delay on this TT i hope you’re not too mad~ but you have every right to yell at me for taking so long !!!

word count: 3,357

music: high class women – jet black alley cat, lie – bts (jimin)

in your bed.

❄️🍶 yukishiro azuma

azuma knew all the red flags that came with spending the night with someone

if they asked to stay for breakfast? leave quickly, act like it’s against the contract (it’s not). didn’t let go in the morning? pretend to go to the bathroom and never come back. wanted to see him again during the daytime? azuma wouldn’t have them as his client anymore

azuma was the perfect cuddler—if you ignored his ability to trick anyone. he would lie and tell you sweet compliments that didn’t mean anything, he’d touch you the way you want but didn’t let you linger for too long, he would promise all these things with no intent to carry them out

he knew how to draw the line between romance and professionalism; azuma wasn’t going to deal with someone’s accidental developing feelings because he let someone fall in love with him

azuma was smooth like a snake and if you got too close, he wouldn’t hesitate to bite

he expected you to be another normal client. when he arrived to meet you in a nearby outdoor bar with an easy, practiced smile and natural ethereal appearance that made the whole room have their eyes on him, you were just like everyone else

your jaw nearly dropped, your eyes wide and skin flushed just from seeing him. he must have been the most beautiful man you had ever seen, you almost spilled your drink over the bar countertop (how innocent, azuma just wanted to take you to bed right away)

when azuma walked in your direction with a charming wink, you seemed to have made the connection as you instantly looked away, staring down at your hands with an expression of embarrassment. of course you were caught admiring the one person who you’d go home with that night

“is this seat open?” azuma hummed, his footsteps silent like a cat. you wondered how stealthy someone could really be, he even sat down elegantly without making any noise. before you could contemplate the ethereal man’s unusual trait, azuma spoke with the same effect as the gods

“azuma, here at your service for tonight.” azuma said, his voice like velvet as he lightly laughed at the blush on your face. you stammered out your name in response. he repeated it, it sounded even better coming from him

as you looked back up, you took in the sight of azuma being absolutely radiant in the purple neon sign just behind him. the yellow fairy lights decorating the roof illuminated his sharp eyes in the same hue. he leaned his cheek on his hand, his thin fingers tapping on his face as a small smile graced his lips. in a way, his silver hair almost glowed purple in the night life and you were afraid if you blinked, he would disappear

(azuma really was too much to be real, or mortal, to be honest)

“my dear, i believe we will have the best night.” azuma giggled, gratefully taking an order from the bartender (he didn’t have to look to know someone bought it for him) as he winked over the rim of his drink

he didn’t know what it was, maybe it was the influx of alcohol in his system or the thrill of being in power, but you were a delight. you responded to his every word with a honest reaction, keeping light conversation easily as you slowly opened up to him. azuma liked you, perhaps you could hire him again and become one of his regulars

after hours of getting to know one another over drinks, it was time for azuma to escort you home as he offered his arm, a pretty smile on his face when you shyly took it. you were borderline drunk, but azuma’s high tolerance kept you safe as he helped you stand up like a gentleman would

before azuma could ask for your permission to take you home (even though he had it in your client details form), a heavy hand rested on his shoulder as his back went rigid. of course he knew where this was going to go, it didn’t mean the confrontation was desirable

azuma turned his head and forced a thin–lipped smile, an expression only a person tired of shameless cat calls and wolf whistles could make. the man must’ve been a regular with how much he reeked of alcohol, azuma almost scrunched his nose at the way the predator was staring at him like he was a piece of meat

“how much for a—” the sleazy man started and before azuma could even tell him to leave, the bastard stumbled back with a thud as he held his bleeding nose

oh my god, did you just punch that guy?

you were suddenly much taller, standing with andrenaline–rushed anger as you clenched your fists, ignoring the pain in your knuckles. you stood between the man and azuma, glaring up at the jerk like he wasn’t a foot taller than you

“what the hell is wrong with you?! he didn’t let you touch him!” you called him out, pushing him back even more as you stretched your arm out, keeping azuma behind you. you were staring down the guy, who cursed and knew he couldn’t hit you without getting kicked out

“whatever, not like you’re worth a fight anyways, whore.” the deadbeat swore before he lazily left, stumbling over his own feet as azuma rolled his eyes at the comment, boredly looking at his own nails with distaste. wolves really acted like they were the alpha

“fuck you!” you yelled after him in your drunken rage, about to chase after him before azuma held onto your wrist, acting neutral for the most part but he had a warning look in his eye, like it truly wasn’t worth it (like azuma wasn’t worth the drama that would come from the bar fight)

“you poor thing, your hand must be hurt.” azuma said, slipping his hand into yours as he lifted your knuckles to his lips. you paused amidst your frustration, letting out a sound of surprise as you became flustered under the sudden attention

(it was working, you were distracted enough to forget. thank god for that, azuma wouldn’t know what to do if you had gotten into a fight)

“let’s get you home.” azuma hailed a taxi like it was second nature, letting you in as he said the address (you didn’t ask why he already knew it), buckling you in safely and running his thumb over your tight fist

as azuma watched the city pass by his window in a blur of lights, he felt you lean your head on his shoulder. he tried not to, but azuma knew his whole body was tense when he felt your breath on his exposed neck (this was a little too close, but maybe you deserved it after the night you had)

“azuma...” you whispered and the way you said his name made him think you’ve known him for years, your chapped lips ghosted over his collarbone as azuma gulped, looking down to see your tired yet determined eyes. you weakly pointed at him, furrowing your eyebrows as you nodded like what you were about to say was fact

“you—you’re not a whore. you’re not, no one should—” you hiccuped and shook your head, continuing, “no one should, treat you like that. i’m sorry.” azuma hoped you didn’t notice his slightly shaky fingers as he pushed a loose strand behind your ear, you smiled despite the redness in your face

“it’s not your fault.” azuma reassured, running his hand through your hair as you hummed against him, not noticing how hard his heart was beating against his chest. was that a blush on his cheeks? there was no possible way, azuma ignored the heat in his face and blamed it on the drinks

“stay with me tonight.” you mumbled sleepily, moving closer to him. you were crossing so many lines and boundaries that azuma had every right to reprimand you right now, but for some reason, he didn’t. azuma lifted his arm so you’d lay under it, and he did so willingly

“of course, that’s what i’m here for.” the words left a bitter taste in his mouth as he thought, only for tonight

azuma helped you up the stairs to your apartment, patiently listening to you ramble about anything that crossed your mind. he unlocked your door with your keys you had fumbled with for a minute or so, took off your shoes at the foyer, and assisted you to your own bed

(you had to go change and he gave you your privacy by facing the wall, waiting for your confirmation to turn around and help you get into bed)

“you have a lovely apartment, thank you for inviting me into your home.” azuma said and you barely acknowledged him, muttering something about city rent as you climbed under your blankets. azuma tsked, gently sitting next to you as he lifted the pillow off your face with a soft smile (you looked especially angelic in this light)

“darling, i simply cannot let you sleep with your make up still on.” azuma insisted to which you ignored. you tried going back to sleep but azuma had already somehow found your make up remover

you didn’t react when azuma began doing it for you, lecturing you about the importance of skincare as he patted your cheek, saying you were too young to have wrinkles

azuma leaned in closer to carefully remove your lipstick, your sheets pooled around your hips as your eyes landed on his lips, tracing the shape of them and committing them to memory

was it too much to say drunk thoughts were honest thoughts? because you grabbed azuma’s wrist, unaware of your proximity to him as you breathed out what was on your mind in that moment

“you’re so beautiful.”

azuma’s breath stuttered in his throat, his hand freezing mid–air as he noticed the adoring look in your eyes. there were so many red flags already—the intense sincerity, you really did mean it

(maybe, that’s why he wanted to stay)

azuma was about to stand up and leave you to your own means, hoping your drunken state would forget him long in the morning. this was too much, you weren’t like his previous clients who were so superficial with their meticulously placed flattery. you were very much real and so unbearably honest it made him uncomfortable

yet, you had kept your grip on his arm, staring at him with confusion as you whined. “i thought you were staying?” you asked, and something in your expression made azuma stop as he looked out the window. the glass reflected his uncertainty, as the cars below raced on the empty streets

“azuma?” you asked again, about to get up before azuma joined you in bed, taking you in his arms regardless of the warning bells going off in his head

“go to sleep, my dear. it’s quite late.” azuma murmured, letting you rest your head against his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist, hiding into him. azuma made sure the blanket covered your frame as he pushed your hair from your face, positioning it in a way so you wouldn’t have to brush the knots out tomorrow

typically, he wouldn’t sleep for a majority of the night. his mind was like the city that never slept, overthinking every little thing he did earlier that meeting as he stared up at the ceiling, knowing it would be the last time he saw it. he would think about what time to leave, which mask he should put on tomorrow, who he was going to pretend to be

but with you, azuma didn’t even have time to overthink that night. when you dozed off, he had followed suit without another word

for the first time in his entire career, azuma woke up to an empty bed

azuma sat up, about to escape without anyone noticing before you entered the bedroom, stopping at the door frame with a sleepy smile and a wave of your spatula

“hi, azuma. care for some breakfast?” you inquired, the smell of something homemade wafting in from the kitchen as you leaned against the frame, your baggy tee shirt hanging past your shorts. your hair was tied up and azuma noticed you had smile lines around your eyes (he didn’t)

azuma knew this was his turn to leave, to politely decline and refuse to let anything happen between them. he did this every time, and it was never hard to say no. yet, azuma watched the sunlight stream in through your bedroom window, the dust floating in the air as a blue sky welcomed him to today

it almost felt like a dream, maybe he was still sleeping. if he was, azuma would let himself have this, just this once

you were glowing in the morning light and azuma couldn’t help but agree, getting out of bed to come eat with you in the dining area

your living space looked different during the day. it was lived–in, from what he could tell. of course your home felt like you, it was welcoming and open. azuma rested against the chair after he helped you bring the items to the table, insisting on setting up after all the hard work you’ve done

the pancakes weren’t perfect by any means, the circular shape irregular and had an unbalanced amount of chocolate chips & blueberries. the orange juice was nearly overflowing at the brim, the utensils slanted near the plate, the fruit overabundant and a mismatch of flavors. yet, azuma loved it, and you blushed when he told you that

“i–it’s no big deal. i wanted to thank you for the night before, it was the first time in a while i slept that well.” you laughed, brushing him off with a wave of your hand as you sat across from him. azuma bit his tongue to refrain from saying “me too” before he did something he never thought he would do: eat breakfast with someone

like last night, it was surprisingly easy. for some reason, it felt like azuma had met you before. like you guys were friends in a past life and already knew everything about each other, azuma found himself telling you things he hadn’t told others he’d known for years

it was like all the red flags were just flags now

when he thanked you for the meal, you invited him over again for another night. azuma agreed, going against every single one of his rules as he promised to see you again (he meant it this time)

azuma began seeing you in the daylight, staying past dawn and watching the sunrise

he complimented you but it was heartfelt, genuine, honest, like you deserved. he let you place your fingerprints upon his skin without warning, slowly becoming used to your presence around him. although he made few promises, azuma carried it out every single time

during nights when he couldn’t see you, when he was with another client, azuma would leave sooner just to see you the next day

it was one of those nights again. he didn’t know what time it was, but azuma was making his way towards his scheduled appointment as planned

his phone buzzed in his pocket, which he casually was about to reject before he noticed your contact blink up at him. azuma stopped, glancing around before answering, unsure why you were dialing him in the first place

“you know i have a—” azuma teased, about to hang up before a sniffle came from the other line. were you crying? azuma picked up on the sound of glass in the back, the stillness of your apartment apparent through the phone

“azuma, i want you here.” you slurred, clearly drunk like the first night he had with you. azuma continued towards the bar that was minutes away, narrowing his eyes as he tried to figure out why you were drinking in the first place

“like i said, i have a client right now.” azuma reasoned. wrong move. you huffed, gulping something before slamming the cup down on your counter. you must’ve been in your kitchen, probably leaning against your table with your phone against your ear. it was so like you, azuma knew where you were just based on the background noises

“why? am i not enough?” you asked and azuma paused, unsure of how much he could admit. he walked faster, letting the wind carry through your speaker for a moment before he spoke warily

“of course you are, angel, what makes you say that?”

silence. then another drink being poured. ah, liquid courage

“you go to every other person’s bed, when you should be with me.” you ranted, your syllables mixing together and enunciation unintelligible but he heard you perfectly clear. azuma was afraid of what was coming next, but before he could’ve stopped you, you kept going

“why do you go to them when you have me?” you asked, your voice cracking towards the end. azuma wanted to say something that would’ve made you feel better, but the bar was right there and his client waved from across the street

“you know it’s the same.” azuma said and the message was clear. you were a client to him, that was all (at least, that’s what he tried telling himself)

“it doesn’t have to be.” you weakly argued and azuma lowered his hand, signalling his guest to wait a moment as he forced a pleasant smile

“call me back when you’re done and tell me if things are going to change, azuma.”

a click. you had hung up. azuma swallowed the hitch in his throat as he walked over to his guest, at the same bar he met you before

everything reminded him of you. azuma could recall every detail: the way you were speechless and taken away the first time you met him, your foolish bravery and need to make things right as you stood off with a man that cat called him, your brutal honesty about your feelings and holding nothing back. azuma ordered the same drink you had that night, and felt his fingers pass your contact one too many times

azuma could barely remember the client’s name, even as he entered their apartment and laid in bed with them. the moonlight seemed to spotlight his phone on the nightstand beside him as he stared at the ceiling. the shadows outside crept into the room, reminding him how much time had passed

when azuma had slipped out of the room much earlier than he had anticipated, it didn’t take long for him to start heading towards your apartment not too far from where he was, in the midst of putting his blazer back on as he held his phone to his ear

your phone rang but you didn’t pick up

by the time he was at your door, he was about to knock before he hesitated. azuma rested his forehead against the surface as he closed his eyes. the light in the corridor flickered

was he about to do this? to go against everything he’s ever established for himself? but, how many nights had he spent with you? he stayed for breakfast and kept coming back for more, he even helped you make it and clean up because he wanted more time with you. he let you cling onto him in the mornings and encouraged you to do so. azuma met with you during the daytime because he loved the way the light made you seem ethereal

the line between romance and professionalism was long gone between you two, and he wanted it that way

he let you fall in love with him because he wanted it, too

before azuma could knock, you called him. his ringtone echoed in the hallway. a rustle and suddenly you opened the door, your phone screen illuminating the dark apartment

azumxa answered anyways, bringing the phone to his ear as he smiled at you

“can i sleep in your bed tonight?”

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